31

"The story of how we met, it's actually not something that I want to get into right now," you say. The story really isn't all that extraordinary: you found, saved, and fell for Tamru after he threw himself overboard in a last-ditch attempt to escape from human cruelty. You gesture toward the exit. "Come on. We should be getting back, anyway."

You guide the humans out of the wreck the same way you brought them in. It's slightly less of a hassle because you've got some of the nuances of the system figured out, but it's still kind of annoying. The real awkwardness isn't in the logistics, but in Flynn's dodged question.

The real question behind his more polite inquiry was obviously about how you and Tamru broke up. You dated for a while, and it didn't work out. Anyone could guess at that story, and it's not one you much feel like dredging up.

After the silence goes on too long, Flynn finally says, "Sorry, I didn't mean to tread where I shouldn't."

Tamru answers for you both: "It's OK."

But is it really OK? You start to wonder why you still do things like this: volunteer to take them out, work to make them happy. Is it because you feel an obligation, like Tamru's your responsibility? Will he be your responsibility for the rest of your immortal life? Is that fair? Or is that just the pact you made when you were so hasty as to bring him back?