So I ain’t got no fam – biological or logical. Mumsie and Dadsie got burned up workin’ for Solaris United the first time. Figured I’d be a ventkid, but then the Temple came lookin’ to collect on what I took from ’em, an’ left me barely a head. So really, things could only get better from there.
Can’t be a ventkid all Moa’d up. Don’t fit, can’t crawl, can’t board. So I make my logical fam right here in me shop. Y’can see the resemblance. Runs in the family.
Woulda been a ventkid, though. For sure.
Mister The Business has been really good to me since… since my accident. Always comin’ over with somethin’. I tell him he doesn’t have to, but he says to me, “In revolution, it is the weakest who sacrifice the most. You’ve done your part, that I might do mine.” And then he hands me a nutrient canister or a part I can use. It’s nice and all, but why’s he looks so sad about it?
Mister The Business got me thinkin’: me and my Moas, we’re tight. I need it, they do it. If Nef does try musclin’ the Solaris out with his Moas again… I might just replace his with some of my own. Get inside his head, chek? I mean, I’d rather be gettin’ my music to the people, but who says I can’t also be a beautiful spider at the center of a big ol’ web of subterfuge and intrigue?
I was hangin’ in my rack the other cycle, ’bout to power down, an’ I hear Boon and Roky and the venters bangin’ skeg on the pipes and ducts. They had a good bounce goin’ so’s I start singin’, as I do. Got a little loud, and the skeg stops. I get all quiet like. Really stepped in it, thinks me. Then the grill pops and Boon’s got his head in my hab sayin’, “Hey, keep it going!” Hahaha. Didn’t sleep much that night. Neighbours neither.
Ventkid, yeah. That’s me.