I'm still unhappy that he's limping. I'm unhappy about a lot of things. I am ready just about a second away from making a mad dash for my computer and loading myself into the subspace just to get away from them and their beliefs and their questions and especially that look they keep giving me, that look that looks exactly like I feel. Worry, and pity. Especially the pity. That I cannot abide.

"Of course not!" I shout at him, not even conscious of the fact that this is probably the last thing he wants to hear, this is probably the last thing that will make my point for me. "I am not one of your BuddyRoids. I am an agent of your greatest enemy, of course I am not worth saving."