‘It is. I feel upset, yes. But I don’t know what you see. Whatever the kit’s doing, it’s not me.’
Blue tapped a finger against his thigh. ‘You got somewhere to be?’ She shook the kit’s head. ‘G-good.’ He gestured toward a chair facing the back of the easel. ‘Have a seat.’
Blue moved the in-progress canvas aside as she settled the kit down. He bustled around, gathering paints and clean brushes. He poured a cup of mek from a small brewer and fetched a fresh canvas.
‘What are you doing?’ Sidra asked.
‘Something that might help,’ Blue said. He held out his palm. ‘Give me your hand, please.’ Sidra placed the kit’s hand in his. He ran his thumb over the back of it, and rummaged through a box of paint tubes with his other hand, pulling various colours out. ‘I think . . . hmm. I think you’re somewhere between Royal Bronze and Classic Sepia.’
‘Are you going to paint me?’
Blue grinned. ‘Maybe a d-dab of Autumn Sunrise, too.’
Sidra’s pathways lit up with interest. The idea of someone studying her details for an extended period was a fascinating reversal. ‘What do I do?’
‘Just sit there and relax. If you need to, uh, if you need to get up, or if you get bored, let me know.’ He squeezed paint onto palette, beginning to conjure the kit’s skin tone.
‘What should I do with the kit’s face? Should it smile?’
Blue shook his head as he stirred. ‘Don’t ch-change anything. Don’t be anything but, ah, but what you were when you walked through my door. Just be yourself.’ He nodded toward the canvas. ‘I’m curious to know what you think of how you look.’
‘I’ve seen the kit in mirrors.’
‘Let me, uh, let me rephrase. I want to know how you feel when you see – when you see yourself the way somebody else sees you.’ Blue glanced from paint to the kit, then back again. With a satisfied nod, he picked up a brush and began to work. ‘Taste anything fun today?’
‘No. I haven’t eaten anything.’
‘That’s not like you.’
‘I was . . . distracted.’
‘If you want, we can go to lunch after this. There’s a good noodle bar not far from here.’ He dragged brush down canvas in a long, smooth stroke. Sidra did her best to stay still, even though she badly wanted to watch. ‘Come up with, um, with any new questions on the way here?’
Sidra gave a short chuckle. There were always new questions. She pulled up her list. ‘Why don’t the Laru overheat? Other species seem to find it warm here, and the Laru are covered with fur.’
‘Hmm. I never thought about that. You’ll need to look that one up.’
‘How dangerous is it if you swallow dentbots? I imagine they’d go after a lot of good symbiotic bacteria in your stomach.’
‘They do, but it’s not, um, it’s not overly dangerous. You j-just get a stomach ache. Happened to me a few times when I first started using them.’ His eyes flicked cautiously over to hers. ‘So . . . why no work today?’
Sidra looked around the shop. ‘I had a disagreement with Pepper.’
‘What about?’
Sidra sighed. ‘She won’t let me install a wireless Linking receiver.’
Blue raised an eyebrow. ‘You two have been on that merry-go-round before.’
‘I know. But she’s not listening to me. I don’t want to delete memory files.’
‘She is listening,’ Blue said with measured diplomacy. ‘She just doesn’t agree with you.’
The kit frowned. ‘And you don’t either.’
‘I didn’t say that. I don’t always take her side, you know. I’m listening, too. I’m listening to both of you.’ He reached for another tube of paint. ‘Tell me something you’re afraid of deleting.’
‘I’ve downloaded a lot of things.’
‘I know. Pick a favourite.’
‘I . . . don’t know if I have one.’
‘Something you find really interesting, then. Just something at random.’
Sidra worked her way down the length of her memory banks, not sure where to start. ‘Well . . . there’s this. “The Never-Born Queen and Those Who Followed”.’
‘What’s that?’
‘A Quelin folktale. More like an epic, I suppose. It’s a bit dark in places, but there’s a wonderful poetry to it, too.’ The kit fidgeted as she remembered Pepper’s words that morning: you’re filing away half the fucking Reskit library. ‘I have the three most popular translations on hand.’
Blue leaned back, never taking his eyes off the canvas. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever heard any Quelin stories. Feel like sharing?’
The kit blinked. ‘Yes, but it’s quite long.’
‘How long is it?’
She selected one of the three files – the Tosh’bom translation – and ran a quick analysis. ‘It’d take me approximately two hours to recite it aloud.’
Blue shrugged and smiled. ‘Sounds like a great thing to do while painting.’