BATTER 58

“I’m still watching it!”

“You know it’s way past your bedtime, right? I’m telling your teacher.”

“You’re so childish.”

Trixie pouted, pulling on his wrist even harder. She was clearly exhausted; her grumbling voice was thick with fatigue. To shake off the brat, all he had to do was give his arm a light flick, but Baron decided to grant her a little more leeway.

The dot, which had been racing across roads and wilderness alike, came to a halt shortly before midnight. Its location looked down upon the colorful container rooftops of Edge Street. He had arrived at the rendezvous point. Baron calmly waited for the guest who would soon arrive.

If things went according to plan, the red dot would resume its movement soon. If it stayed still, it meant they had smelled a rat, and everything would go down the drain. He’d likely lose that stupid android forever and miss his chance to put a bullet in those bastards’ lungs.

The numbers at the top of the map window flipped. It was finally midnight. Baron counted the seconds in silence, staring at the red dot so intensely it left an afterimage. Within a few minutes, the dot began to move. Unlike when he was on Mori, it was moving at high speed, ignoring blocks and terrain.

It was headed toward the center of New-New York. The dot showed no sign of stopping even after entering the Lower City districts. The number representing the distance between the tracker and Baron grew larger and larger.

Baron blinked his dry eyes hard. He glanced down to find Trixie had fallen asleep hugging his forearm. She was like a baby monkey. Even in her sleep, the kid wore a fierce scowl. Baron detached Trixie with an awkward, uncomfortable motion. It was just as he was awkwardly scooping her up to move her elsewhere that Harrison, who had stepped away for a moment, poked his head through the door.

“Mori’s back. Along with a young white woman.”

He left only those essential words before hurrying toward the upper levels. As the village’s only doctor, he seemed intent on checking the teacher’s condition immediately. Baron filled his lungs with a deep breath and stood up, hooking one arm around Trixie’s waist. As he walked upstairs, Trixie’s limbs dangled like a stuffed monkey’s, yet miraculously, she didn’t wake up.

Aria, who was still awake, stepped off the elevator carrying a limp figure on her back. The young, pale face revealed beneath the short-cropped hair was one Baron knew well enough. Baron shook Trixie, who was tucked under his arm like a duffel bag, to wake her. The girl blinked her eyes open, whining incoated sounds.

“Your teacher’s here.”

“Huh…”

Still half-asleep, Trixie rubbed her heavy eyelids. Even seeing the teacher, she seemed to think it was a dream and tried to close her eyes again. He could have woken her more gently, but Baron indifferently loosened his grip. As the support vanished, Trixie landed on the floor with a thud.

“Oof!”

Bolting awake from the shock, Trixie finally recognized the teacher she had been waiting for. For a split second, it was as if her tail was on fire; she jumped up and started stomping her feet at the teacher’s side. Despite the commotion, the teacher’s eyelids remained tightly shut, motionless.

“The teacher… something’s wrong with the teacher.”

Her worried voice sounded like the whining typical of her age. Since Baron was the only somewhat familiar face among the group, Trixie turned to him, feet still shuffling distractedly. Baron didn’t have much to tell her, so he just gave a light shrug.

Harrison, who was exactly as cold as he needed to be and as kind as required, quickly checked the teacher’s breathing and pupil response before shoving a penlight into his inner pocket.

“No obvious external injuries. Let’s get her to the clinic for a proper look.”

Before they moved, Baron took the teacher from Aria. This was the second time he’d held the unconscious woman. However, because Trixie was glaring at him sharply, he couldn’t just sling her over his shoulder like a sack of grain this time. He at least made a show of holding her carefully, as if transporting a precious bundle.

The teacher was soon laid out on the long clinic chair. Her chest, clad in the same clothes as when he’d last seen her, rose and fell rhythmically. Under the bright surgical lamp, Harrison found a tiny needle mark on the teacher’s neck.

The microscopic puncture had only just stopped bleeding. After running a few more tests, he diagnosed that she had likely been administered a sedative just before departure, but otherwise, there were no major issues. Baron agreed.

Behind a yellowish curtain blocking off one side of the clinic were two hydraulic beds. They decided to keep her there until she woke up, just in case there were any missed complications. Only then did Harrison let out a long yawn, finally able to clock out much later than usual. Lawrence, who never felt fatigue, stayed behind to keep watch.

“You should go sleep with your friends now.”

“I’m staying with the teacher.”

“Not gonna sleep? You keep that up and you’re gonna stay a shrimp forever.”

At that, Lawrence turned his head toward Baron. The expressionless gaze felt like a warning about his inappropriate vocabulary. He played dumb, looking elsewhere, while Trixie crawled onto the empty bed right next to the teacher’s. She lay down on her side, staring intently at the teacher’s sleeping face.

As if she believed that staring long enough would wake the other person… Baron let out a theatrical sigh and perched his backside on the edge of the bed Trixie was lying on. The kid, not yet hit by puberty, was so tiny that there was plenty of room.

“You’re gonna wear out the teacher’s face, looking at her like that.”

Trixie didn’t give even a fleeting glance to the man at the foot of the bed. Apparently, his comment was that pathetic and stale. Baron sat comfortably, glancing down at the priest-in-training who seemed determined not to like him. The rude little student let out a sniffle. Trixie kept wiping her runny nose with her sleeve. The sleeve, already worn thin, was shiny from the effort. Baron crossed his arms and smirked.

“You like your teacher that much?”

“Duh.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s the teacher.”

It was a response so curt it was almost lazy, yet it allowed him to feel a love that was honest, unconditional, and bottomless. While Baron remained silent, Trixie spoke first. Her voice was hazy like the dawn mist, as if the sleepiness she’d kicked away was finally creeping back in.

“I actually remember. What happened before we were with the teacher. I think all the other kids forgot, though…”

He guessed she was referring to memories of the clone research lab. The teacher had likely wiped their memories intentionally while removing their chips. He didn’t know how many ethical codes an illegal lab might follow, but it was obvious they wouldn’t leave behind any memories useful for living as a “normal child.” Despite knowing this, Baron played along.

“What kind of memories?”

“That I’m not actually human, right?”

“Is that what you think?”

Baron replied ambiguously. He didn’t offer the kind of comfort an adult might usually provide. Since Trixie was a “cloned human,” she shared the same types and numbers of organs, bone structure, and chromosome counts as the human species. However, Baron Lin had realized long ago that sharing the same order, family, genus, and species didn’t truly make one a kinsman.

To begin with, the reason Trixie was born was to serve as a spare child or an organ sack. An organic vessel for holding a heart or a liver. It was difficult to call such an entity human. A string of thoughts followed that someone else might condemn as cruel.

But was there really a reason one had to be human? Did one have to be human to have dignity? Baron rephrased the question.

“Does it make you sad, thinking you’re not human?”

“I don’t know.”