The street was busier now. People – no, thought Mia, workers – were walking out from the grey buildings, out to the road beyond. Some nodded to Jean. Most ignored them both. No one smiled.
Everyone was wearing the same thing: grey work clothes, with blue stencilled names and numbers on the back, as if they were cheap sports kits. Mia checked her: it was blank.
'Yeah, we'll need to get you some clothes,' said Jean. 'I didn't know your name or serial number when I ordered them. Not that it matters much, now.'
'Why?'
Jean sighed and scratched his head. 'Hang on. Let's wait until we get to my lab.'
They opened the door, and traipsed up the three flights of stairs to Jean's floor. Two other workers passed them, going down. One was weeping silently, tears running down her pale face. No one said anything.
They opened the door, and went in. Jean pulled up a folding chair, and opened one. He passed it to Mia.
'There you go.'
'Thanks. Look, before we go any further, can you tell me what the hell is going on? You can now, right? Albert said so.'
Jean smiled, and walked over to the bench with Mia's controller box. He unplugged some of the cables.
'Hey, you're charged; that's great. Your battery isn't damaged. Okay... You want to know what's going on. Let me see.
'When Pilgrim sent you out, your probe was destroyed by something. But, instead of dying, you somehow ejected your controller. It was thrown into a surprisingly stable orbit, and you stayed there for twelve years. You were picked up almost by accident, when we launched a sun survey...'
'No, stop. Let's get to that later. What's Albert?'
Jean paused, his hands over the box.
'Sorry, what?'
'Like, is Albert a mutant or something?'
'No. You really are disoriented, aren't you? Albert is a human. We call them makers because, well, they like it – but also, because that's what they are. They designed us. They wanted something big, and strong, and primitive, to do all their dirty work. They modelled us on large Earth primates, rather than the smaller ones that they're evolved from.'
'But... wait.' I'm evolved from a primate, she was going to say. But I can't have evolved if I was designed.
'How tall am I?' she asked.
'You're five foot four. Standard for your body model.'
'So Albert is... normal. For a maker.'
'He's a little on the tall side, actually. But, yes, that's what humans look like. And we're these big, scary thugs, designed to be their muscle. Apparently when we were first designed, we were stupid, but they realised smart was useful. So they made us nearly as clever as them, and built in kill switches.'
'Nearly?'
'I... we don't talk about that.' He looked away, studied a cable intently.
Mia wanted to press him, but she also didn't want to cause him any more pain. Anyway, it's not like I don't have more questions about other things, she thought.
'Okay. So they're human, and we're not,' she continued. 'And these bodies, they're synthetic, but I also need to eat and drink and stuff?'
'Yes. You're made of artificial cells, layered over plastic bones and some electrical bits.' He unclipped the last of the cables. 'Here, take this.' He passed her the box. It was surprisingly light, and the lights shimmered under her fingers.
'I'm holding... me.'
'Yes, you are. You're running over a short wave radio link now, so don't put yourself down and walk away. It wouldn't be fatal, but it would be unpleasant. You have about two day's worth of charge in there. Now, come on.'
They headed back out, down the metal stairs and out into the grey dawn. Mia's head was buzzing with questions.