Mission: Aquatic Turbo Squirrel

Moses doesn't sleep. He's so heavy, he can barely lift an arm or a leg, but his head is light, like he's floating above his lumbering body. The ringing never leaves his ears. He turns his furnace down for the night, becomes listless and leaden in his movements. For a while he's still.

Its hard to breathe, but he doesn't want to wake anyone up. They need their sleep and he'll be ok. The stickers fixed him up pretty good, and he knows bullets won't stop him. Not yet.

Its hard to breathe, and his breath catches, escapes as little, stifled sobs. He holds a hand over his mouth, clenches his eyes, tries to swallow them but they come back up. He sees the bullet going through the Mechified's head, his eyes watching Moses, looking at the Symbol, dying while looking right at it. The gunfire following them. The shouting Mechified, going to fight soldiers with picks an shovels and drills. Going to get shot and die, just so Moses can run away. So Moses can survive. The weight builds and builds and builds, so heavy, too heavy...

He pulls his hand away some time later, snot clinging to everything, his eyes starting to crust over. He wipes his hand carefully on his coveralls, wipes his face with a rag that replaces snot with little wet smears of grease.

Highdive is watching him, her bright little eyes fixed. She quivers with energy, even in the middle of sleeping-time. Her paws are tucked under her. Maybe she's cold.

Moses roots quietly through his many pockets, comes up with a nut that she gave him what seems like a whole day ago, but is probably just a few hours. He holds it out to her, sees her nose quiver. There's a blur and she's perched on his stretched-out leg (the flesh one of course). She glares at his right side distastefully and snatches the nut in another blur, coming to rest just beyond his reach. She begins munching it, still staring at him.

Moses decides. "Listen..." he whispers, as quiet as he can, knowing she can hear better than he can anyway, "I need your help with something. I know that...some of you...like to carry messages."

Her eyes narrow again and crumbs fall from the corners of her mouth as she mumbles...stupid machines (crunch) not that we like to (munch-munch) well we do (gulp) not the point (nibble) should pay us better.....

"I, uh, I know, uh, sorry. But listen. I need you to carry a message for me. I don't have anyone else here who can do it without getting hurt...but you can. However you want. And then just, you know, run away. And wait wherever you want for a reply. Maybe you could...write it down? Like in a note? I don't want you to get caught..."

The suspicion is now as thick as Blackrock smoke. Her jaws have stopped working and she's glaring at him like she's finding nuts she can loosen. Lefty-loosy.

"Here's the message. I want to ask them. I'm a Symbol. I'm...part of the surgency. And I want to know. If they're after me. If they're...if they catch me, if I go to them, will they stop? Will they stop fighting? If I go to them, and I'm not a Symbol anymore, then they can just...work things out. You know. Make it better down here. We can go back to work. If they make it better. And we can stop fighting. I don't..."he looks away, eyes glistening, blinks a few times, looks right at Highdive, clenches his fist, "I don't want...anyone else to die...because of me. No one else. Can you...can you tell them that?"