#memorandum

It wasn’t really the kind of place an intruder would be hanging out in, so Skwydd got up to look without making all that much of an effort to be sneaky.  Inside, bent double over the shelf they used as a counter, was Tuck.  

“What are you doing?” asked Skwydd.  

Tuck startled, hitting his head on the shelf above, and jostling several metal scraps to the floor.  “Ow!”

Skwydd ignored him, staring at the scraps.  “Is that Rex’s journal?” he asked.    

“Yeah,” said Tuck, picking up the scattered pieces.  “So what?”

“So, what are you doing with it?”

“I’m trying to fix it.”

Skwydd crossed his arms and leaned against the corner where the cubby let out into the rest of the room.  “Why?”  

Tuck turned and frowned at it, the inhuman lines of his face making the expression difficult to read, even for him.  “You know, before Quarry pulled this thing out, I never would have thought Rex would have sold us out.”

“Just let it rest.”  Skwydd and Cricket certainly wanted to, if for different reasons.  “It’s like he said, he’s basically a different person now.”

“That’s not what I meant.  I mean, why did we believe it after?”

“What d’you mean?”

“We’re not wearing tattoos for the fashion statement,” said Tuck.  “And, think about it.  Rex gives up his journal to Quarry, and Quarry just… keeps it handy?  For three years?  When he didn’t think Rex was ever going to come back?”

“Yeah, so he could play mind games with us.”

“Mind games he waited three years for?  Come on, like, we knew Rex.  And we know him now, sort of.  And then there’s this.  One of these things doesn’t fit.”

“We thought we knew him.”

“How many kids did he cure when he was with us?  He didn’t double cross any of them, far as I know.  And he freaking cried when he couldn’t cure someone.”

“Okay, and what’s your theory?  John Scarecrow?  Some kind of deepfake?  It sounded just like Rex.”

“Yeah,” said Tuck, picking up a screwdriver and playing with it.  “Just like him.  Hey, d’you remember what Rex sounded like back then?  Before he disappeared?  Or do you just know what he sounds like now?  ‘Cause, I can’t be sure I do.”

“Yeah, yeah, and what’s your theory?”  There was some movement behind him, and Skwydd was aware he was being maybe a little loud.  Cricket had still been sleeping.  "Remember, Rex said he had a- a memory flash or whatever of taking Quarry's offer."

“I don't know.  But Rex, he could be a jerk sometimes, but our Rex– the only way I can think of that our Rex would have willingly given this up – and freaking unlocked it for Quarry to snoop – is if he got his memory back or if he had no idea what it was."

"Holy crap," whispered Cricket behind Skwydd.  "Do you really think that's what happened?  Rex lost his memory and Quarry scammed him into leaving?"

"Honest?"  Tuck laughed humorlessly.  "I dunno that this's even Rex's journal."  He dropped the screwdriver on the shelf.  "I thought maybe if I get this put back together, it'd be blank except the one video or something, or if it was the real one, then there’d be something about Quarry one way or the other, but I'm not Rex.  I can't talk to machines, and even he didn't think he could get anything out of this one." 

"But if it isn't," said Cricket, "then where's the real one?"

"Who freaking knows.”  It wasn’t a question, more an exclamation of defeat.  “It’s been years.”

“Do you think we should talk to Rex about this?” asked Crickey, audibly trying to keep herself calm.  “Like, if we really think it wasn’t him in the recording…”

“But we don’t know,” said Tuck.  “We don’t know.  And even if we did know, we still believed…”  He covered his mouth with his hand, elbow firmly set on the shelf.  Almost like he was grinding it in, trying to make it hurt.  

He was going to break that if he wasn’t careful.  The shelf wasn’t that stable.  

“Would it do any good, either way?” Skwydd found himself asking out loud.  “Would it do more harm than good?  Since we don’t know…  Maybe he did do it.  We can’t tell.”

“Yeah, exactly.”  Tuck’s voice was muffled by his hand, barely understandable.

“What,” said Cricket, looking back and forth between them.  “You can’t be serious.  You just had this whole big thing about how it wouldn’t make sense for him to do it.  Like, it’s completely out of character, right?  That’s what you said.”

“Yeah, well, the world doesn’t make sense, did you ever think of that?”  Tuck got up and roughly pushed past Skwydd, the ribbons that made up his body briefly unknotting and brushing by him.  

“Hey!” said Cricket.  “Hey!  Why are you so mad?  You’re the one that brought it up!

Tuck spared Cricket a withering glare and otherwise only stopped long enough on the way out of the apartment to grab his hoodie and throw it over his head, so he wouldn’t be instantly pegged as an EVO.  

“What gives!?”  she started to go after him, but Skwydd caught her arm.  

“He needs time to cool off,” he said.  “Just let him be.”

Cricket glared at him and shook him off, but went back to her cot.  

“I don’t get it,” said Cricket.  “If we don’t think he actually sold us out, isn’t letting him think he did kind of a crappy thing to do?”

“Maybe, if we had proof one way or another,” said Skwydd.  “But we don’t.”  He stepped into the kitchenette and picked up a piece of the PDA, examining the sharp edge where Rex had cut it with his giant sword.

“Just, he’s our friend, isn’t he?  He helped us.”

Skwydd shrugged, trying not to show how much this was affecting him.  “It’s like he said.  He’s a different person now.”  He let the piece fall back to the table with a clatter.  “In the end, he didn’t want to know about the past, either.”