2nd of January, 2024

9pm; Patsy Palmer awoke to a soft purple lights in her room and a tablet laying on the round table she had not paid much attention to before. It was flashing a soft purple light every few seconds. When she touched it she heard a robotic voice come on that people in this world would recognize as Optimus Prime.

“…Greetings Patsy Palmer, I am Optimus, your digital assistant on DalusNET. Garrick pushed and update to his network giving you access to the Century Station CityNET and the Internet at large. This tablet was left in this room for guests, and due to an “indefinite guest” label he has assigned for your access, this tablet now has been formatted and assigned to you. On the steel table with the four white chairs you have been left all the instruction manuals for the key card, the crystal slab smart phone, and to quote: “plethora of clothes from two thrift stores.” A reminder note some simple cubed chicken and parsley-scallion humus has been left in the fridge with tea, and finally all of the paperwork he could find on identity establishment for “undocumented” births…”

About two seconds later to flashing buttons appeared on a pop-up: “Do you wish to acknowledge the receipt of this message? [YES] or [NO]”

Tapping yes prompted another text message, timestamped at 7pm, “Patsy, I am over at the Giving Tree shelter helping the kids with dinner service and clean up. I should be back about 11pm. I made a little something for you, not sure if you’ll like it so there is a pre-packed Caesar salad as plan B. -G”

He had almost seemed to helpful, but as she wandered around the upper floor she noticed the doors to his room were retracted and open. Wandering pass that she found the table with everything the message said would be there. There was a note on the clothing about how to access the washer and dryer. When she came upon his research regarding getting an identity legally there was yet another note.

Patsy re-read the options again. “That’s a lot to take in,” she muttered. Then she smiled. This “Garrick” was trying so hard to be thoughtful and honestly, she never would’ve thought about trying to establish a legal identity here on this second Earth. It made a lot of sense. She was stuck here for the time being and having a legal identity would make being here easier. Plus, she needed to prepare for the worst case scenario – that she may never go home. Patsy closed her eyes. “Heldamm,” she whispered. Nothing happened.

She opened her eyes and sighed. She wouldn’t give up. If she was going to be here for a while she needed to do this also to pull her weight. Garrick was letting her stay for now, but she wasn’t planning on being a freeloader. Looking back at the note he left for her she started planning out loud. “Let’s see… no, I agree, I’d rather not take someone’s identity… but let’s not discount a simple fake I.D. for the time being. This stuff about writing to prove I have no birth record is weird – I’m not getting married just to do that! The “foundling” option he mentioned at the end seems like the best route. Seems like he’s got this pretty-well thought out. He does mention that we’d have to pose as a couple… that’s weird. Well… he said I had access to the internet so I think I’ll just look that up myself to see why.”

Spending the next two hours doing some research while washing the clothes he gave her, she heard the insulated garage door. She wandered over to the ledge over looking the training area. It was about a 15-foot drop to the floor below but gave an excellent viewing angle of Garrick’s truck pulling in with the door shutting behind it. She watched him exit the truck in nice slacks and a fancy polo shirt that was emblazoned with the Mallic Robotics in racing team style along the arm and back. He walked over to a work table with a pole in the center and four monitors mounted. He pulled another tablet on the table over to him and started typing. He tapped and icon and said a few words which echoed over the house a few seconds later, “Patsy, ma’am, I’m back from the shelter.” Tilting his head either way waiting for a possible reply he headed to the stair case and started heading up.

Patsy moved over to the island in the kitchen area that they talked at all last night. Finishing up her salad and using some red, corn tortillas to eat the parsley hummus she looked over at him, “You donate time at a shelter?”

Putting a picture of a hand-drawn robot with a stylized “Mallic” “M” on its chest to the frig door with a magnet he smiled, “I was trying to build homes for all of those children and ones I will likely never see all over the world. After committing my one crime the least I can do is help feed them, read a story or two and do the dishes with the staff. They deserve the future I failed to hold on to, they’re the future I need to protect.”

Seeing him reply so passionately once more, “But your parole is over why are you..?”

“Because of you, because of people like the Murder Master,” he poured a cup of water and pulled up a chair at the island allowing for the middle chair between as a buffer, “Ashmadiel coming into my life via an act of larceny, saving you from certain death, all I am figuring out is nothing is like the comics or cartoons we grew up on. Figuring out how to care for you while your here on my world, how to get your powers back, how to get you home, and how we’ll stop Murder Master is not some simple – LOOK, I SAVED THE GIRL – moment. I know so many stories about the heroes: Mavericks or Centurions tackling the big fish at the expense of the little guy or gal. I want those kids at the Giving Tree shelter to know heroes don’t always wear capes and being normal does not make you incapable of being a hero. I want to give them hope, hope that I fear I’ve lost.”

She decided to file away the moment he said “we’ll” stop Murder Master, “Did one of them draw the robot there?” Looking back at the fridge door in the wall console unit he smiled and nodded saying that they think Mallic Robotics builds the robot heroes. He laughed briefly that maybe they build some elbow joints or stabilizing struts used in those armored suits. They talked about how every Tuesday he would go down and spend time at the Giving Tree. He did it as an anchor for when he wondered why he started fighting crime he would think of a brighter future for those kids. Garrick’s phone began buzzing and he pulled a foldable tablet out and began typing on the screen briefly. Patsy looked and saw streams of numbers and characters rushing past with a sudden stop, “Garrick what’s that?”

“A script I run once a day checking on the one active bio-dome, Dalus Dome Incorporated, ever built with a sustainable mini-cold-fusion reactor. My father, was the genius behind the power and I did everything else.”

“Wait cold-fusion? I read a little about the person called Alpha Prime and won’t she/it have already taken it?”

Garrick shook his head, “I put it into low-power maintenance mode when the alien began rounding everything up. There is some interference in the minerals or the water in the area and it’s been overlooked. If I ever take it out of that state to full power it will likely become a blip on her watchtower.”

Patsy tilted her head to one side, “Wouldn’t this land you in jail?”

“Oh, I doubt that, I don’t think the Earth governments will be so quick to hand over tech again since Alpha Prime did not help them into a “Galactic Age” of advancement. For now, I just leave it alone and make sure the script comes back stable, but my father built it and I am not half the genius he was.”

Asking her about how she was doing brought up his plan to legalize her identity. He agreed and would begin looking for his contact about a simple fake ID. When it came to the posing as a couple Garrick mentioned that it looks like Patsy would need a sponsor to help support her claim before a judge, “The reason to write in and be told you don’t have a birth certificate suggests that at one point you did. With the only records being held at a church and destroyed in Bloody Monday more than a few people have had this exact issue. A judge may not believe in the kindness of a stranger but a boyfriend trying to help his girl is easier to sallow. Besides without having a preacher to act as a character witness the “couple” route is the easiest to pull off.” He held up his hands though, “Don’t tell me your answer yet, take 24 hours and really chew on it, research it yourself, come to your own conclusions. I am tired and see a few hours of sleep before I head out on patrol and then work in the morning. Then it’s off to the actual library at the university to try and find everything Sumerian I can for you.”

“Garrick, you don’t have do all…”

“Please forgive me this one interruption, ma’am,” Patsy noted the quaint speech return and paused, “Evil happens when good men do nothing, or in this case drop the ball half way to saving the day.” A cocky grin, and one bow toward her he strode past her into his room, “Have a great night and we can chat more on the morrow I am bushed, Optimus, set a timer alarm for 3 hours, go.”

“Yes Garrick, here you go.”

Patsy was bemused and irritated at the quixotic nature of her benefactor, “At least this knight seems more plausible than the one from LaMancha. I almost think he can do it.”