Waking up was a slow and inconsistent process for Matiew. At first he only dipped into consciousness for a few seconds at a time, not really aware of anything else besides the fact that he was in pain until the numb darkness of unconsciousness took him again. Eventually, he started being able to hold on a bit longer, able to begin assessing his injuries, where he was at, and what all had happened. Finally, he awoke and knew he wouldn’t be slipping away again any time soon. Everything hurt, especially his face and ribs. His arms felt bruised but not too badly.

He was also very cold and very wet. He wasn’t lying on the boardwalk anymore and was instead lying on his back in the marsh. Gingerly, Matiew raised himself up onto his elbows, moving slowly in case any of his ribs were broken. It was still very dark and judging from where the artificial moon was currently, Matiew had been out for at least a couple hours.

With the moonlight, he was able to pick out the boardwalk not too far away from where he lay. The water in the marsh was not a consistent depth and Matiew was lucky that his assailant had chosen a shallow spot to leave him, otherwise he would have been in very real danger of drowning while he had been unconscious. Matiew wasn’t sure if that had been the man’s intention or not. The muddy shore wasn’t very far from Matiew and he guessed the man probably just tossed him in and left without checking the water’s depth.

Crawling was never easy for Matiew and now it was even less so but he wasn’t left with much else he could do. His wheelchair was nowhere to be seen. He remembered it being knocked off the boardwalk but when he reached the spot on the walkway where he’d been attacked, he couldn’t spot it anywhere.

“It could have sunk,” he groaned to himself. “Or he could have taken it or hidden it or…

Matiew, sitting on the edge of the boardwalk, looked towards the dim lights marking the elevator doors. It wasn’t very far, and yet, it was incredibly far. Sometimes people made the mistake of saying he was trapped in his wheelchair. They didn’t understand. His wheelchair was what made him free. This was what being trapped was like. His chest hurt so badly from even just the short bit of crawling he’d done. He was certain he had at least a few cracked ribs. He didn’t want to start wondering about how bad his face was. His jaw at least didn’t feel broken but both of his eyes were pretty swollen and his nose still bled whenever he started moving around too much. There was no way he could cross the distance with the amount of pain he was in.

Unsure of what to do next, Matiew let himself lie back and rest a bit. Passengers on the Thesis had personal comms they could use to contact one another or request emergency services. Most of the time Matiew didn’t bother to carry his with him since his office had a comm as well as his quarters and that was where he spent the majority of his time. His mind was still fuzzy and he couldn’t remember if he’d brought it with him or not.

“Please, please, please,” he murmured as he felt at his pockets.

There it was, the smooth little disk, barely larger than his palm. He pulled it out and tried to make his eyes focus on the display that lit up the moment he applied a bit of pressure. Only then did he realize how out of focus everything was. The darkness really helped to mask just how poor his vision was currently.

“Emergency call,” Matiew stammered after tapping the screen twice.

Speaking any louder than a whisper was unbearable so he held the comm up much closer to his face than would be normal. A moment passed and then the screen flickered and a woman’s face appeared on the display.

“Thesis Emergency Response,” she said almost too quickly to be understood, “what is your emergency?”

“I’m on sector thirty,” Matiew told her and a sudden rush of emotion threatened to overpower his ability to speak. The fear, no, the terror of having been assaulted by someone who possibly had intended to leave Matiew to die, hit him now that he was trying to explain why he needed help.

“Sir, are you alright?” the woman asked when Matiew failed to continue speaking.

“I’ve been attacked,” Matiew gulped down the lump in his throat and forced himself to keep speaking. “I don’t know who it was. Some big guy followed me in here. He beat me, and then left me unconscious in the marsh. I think he meant for me to drown.”

All the while the woman was nodding and glancing over to the one side, probably to where her monitor was where she was taking down Matiew’s description of events.

“Sir,” she said when Matiew paused to catch his breath and allow his ribs to rest, “Help is on the way.”

Relief flooded into Matiew upon hearing those words.

“I can see that you’re lying down,” she went on, “are you able to get up and move closer to the exit?”

“No,” Matiew shook his head and then regretted it as his head throbbed all the more from the motion. “I’m paralyzed. I was before the attack,” he added quickly when he saw the woman’s reaction. “But my wheelchair’s gone. I don’t know if the guy took it or hid it or if it just sank in the marsh, but my ribs…I think my ribs are broken. I could barely get myself back onto the walkway.”

“I understand,” the woman said, her voice never straying from the calm, professional tones she’d been using. “The medical team should be arriving at sector thirty now. Can you see the elevator?”

Matiew turned his head ever so slightly until he could see it. The doors were in fact opening and a group of five people stepped out onto the landing.

“I see them,” Matiew replied and waved his arm until it triggered the motion sensors for the lights around him.

The emergency responders all turned towards Matiew at the same time and then began jogging along the boardwalk. Head lamps and flashlights swept over the area as they hurried, not relying on the boardwalk lighting to keep them from losing their footing and then they were there, some kneeling beside Matiew while others began looking around, though Matiew wasn’t sure what for. Maybe his wheelchair?

“Hey, I’m Brad,” one of the responders kneeling beside Matiew said, his voice had the same even tones that the woman Matiew had been speaking with had. “Can you tell me what your name is?”

“Matiew,” he replied.

“I’m sorry you’ve had such a bad night,” Brad said as he gently fitted Matiew with a neck brace. “Can you look right here for me?”

Brad held up a finger and Matiew tried to focus on it.

“Follow my finger tip?”

Matiew tried but his eyes kept wandering of their own accord.

“What brought you here tonight?” Brad flashed his light into Matiew’s eyes a couple times.

“Stress from work,” Matiew said. “That light’s making me nauseous,” he added and tried to wave away the light Brad was using.

“Do you feel like you’re going to throw up?”

“No, just stop with the light, please?”

Brad put the light away.

“Where do you work?” Brad asked but he was no longer looking Matiew in the face and was instead unbuttoning Matiew’s shirt and examining the bruises that were already blossoming on his chest and stomach.

“Robot Control,” Matiew told him and the brief pause and look that each of the responders shared was almost comical to Matiew. “Yup,” he almost chuckled, “most popular group on board right now.”

“Did your attacker say anything?” one of the other responders who’d been searching the marsh asked.

Matiew had to think for a moment as his brain worked backwards to their brief conversation. “Something about his wife. I think she was down on twelve…didn’t like that we…didn’t like how things were handled.”

“Well,” the responder in the marsh said, “we’re running a search in the system. He wouldn’t have been able to follow you in here without his ID so we’ll know who it was soon enough.

“Alright, we’re going to move you onto a stretcher,” Brad said after he and the others were satisfied that they could now move him without issue.

They counted to three and then quickly lifted and moved Matiew onto the stretcher. It hurt but Matiew was able to keep from crying out.

“Thank you,” Matiew whispered as they began making their way towards the elevator.

“Hey, we’re here for you,” Brad said and gave Matiew’s shoulder a gentle pat with his free hand.

“Thank you,” Matiew said again, although it came out so quietly that he didn’t think anyone heard him.

At last, the tears came and Matiew didn’t try to stop them. He didn’t sob. His body hurt to much for that sort of vigorous crying, but he wept all the same. All the pent up frustration, the uncertainty, the stress, everything that had been building up inside of him ever since the incident finally came pouring out of him. None of this should have happened, but some of it, a lot of it, the worst parts of it, could have been avoided if people would just calm down and stop blaming Matiew and the others for things well outside of their control.

Maybe this would help things overall. Maybe now, if people heard that he’d been attacked, they’d take a moment to reflect on their own actions. Maybe now they’d finally see how awful they’d been.

Yeah. And maybe BaBS-Y will suddenly decide to deactivate and stop causing problems for the Thesis.