With Jack’s permission, she finally smiles, walking over in order to seat herself on the couch. “Thank you.” Sitting perfectly straight, her hands on her knees, Veda looks to Jack nervously.
“Uh, you’re welcome.” He hesitated for a moment to see if she would begin, realized she wasn’t going to, and went on, “So, will you tell me about yourself? You said you w-weren’t normal – what do you mean by that?”
“I am not sure quite why, but…” Veda smiles, a slight shy expression as she taps a finger against her collar, just above where her frame had been damaged months ago. “I have met only one other who is like me, and they were visibly damaged. I… I do not know if it is the same for me, but…” She shrugs. “I do not regret it, if it is.”
Jack listened intently as she explained. His mind focused on those words, "only one other" – and what that implied.
“I can understand that,” he said softly. “It m-makes you unique. But, er … if you don’t mind my asking, how many others were there?” His gaze focused on her intently. “Where did you come from?” That seemed a politer thing to ask than ‘who made you?’
Jack Maple 