Nick checked his food stores, and cans of alien beans were the easiest and fastest to print. He set Petra to printing more food for several hours, then to start in on the food printer. The time critical things dealt with, Nick went for a long swim. He was feeling pretty depressed. Exercise was fifth on his checklist of things to do while depressed, right after checking that he had taken his meds on time, food, water, and sleep.
He didn't feel ready to sleep, so he swam, trying to empty his head, trying to look on the bright side. My situation just got a lot more interesting and hopeful, so this is probably just stupid brain med issues. He'd missed his monthly check-in with his psychopharmacologist (and wasn't that a mouthful.) He knew med dosages were not an exact science. Too bad Petra can't be my psychopharmacologist. But that's probably a bit too far for an alien super-printer.
He went and looked at the apple saplings. There were three of them now, and they showed no sign of wilting. In just a few short decades, I'll have trees to sleep under, he moped.
Just because he hadn't done it in a while, he called, “Petra's status,” and looked at the closest display.
Name: Petra
Level: 8
Class: Dungeon
Rooms: 31
Traps: 6
Monsters: 230
Inventory: 705388/1048576
External Storage: 585222
Languages: Galactic 100%, Foglupa 100%, English 41%, Kthufu, 14%
He snorted. She's picking up Kthufu faster than English, which is fair enough. Maybe I should try learning Kthufu, but man that language hurts my throat.
Next, he called up his own status.
Name: Nick
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Level: 7
Class: Boss Monster
Gender: Male
Nick frowned. How did I get to Level 7? And what does that even mean? “Petra, explain my level, please.”
For once, Petra got it on the first try. “You have survived the dungeon more than 64 days.”
More than 64? That sounds random. “When will I reach Level 8?”
“You have survived the dungeon more than 128 days.”
Nick started doing math in his head. 64 plus 64 is 128. Does it double every time? I guess it doesn't matter; this is just Petra trying to cope without good English, talking about everything in gaming terms.
He looked over the rest of his status page and spotted
Debuff: no pills
Nick stared at that for a moment, then tapped to edit it:
Debuff: depression
“Petra? How did you know I have a depression debuff?”
“I don't understand.”
Nick groaned. I know I hashed this out with Petra at some point. “How did you know...?” Nick wracked his brain, trying to remember. He even looked at the transcripts and searched for the phrase, finally finding what he wanted when he was on the verge of giving up. He read it over a couple of times, then spoke.
“Petra...what tool...give you data...debuff, no pills?”
“Monster 219.”
Nick hunted through the menus for “Monster 219” and found that it was apparently lodged in his brain.
God damn. Having them in my stomach and blood is one thing, but in my brain? Nick grimaced. Well, unless it is causing my depression, which I doubt, it doesn't appear to be doing any harm. I was always this much of a dumbass.
Nick braced himself, and then dove into talking about his brain chemistry. He seriously couldn't understand much of it, but forced Petra to dumb it down enough for him, eventually.
“So, you know this number all the time?”
“Yes, Nick.”
“And when this number is less than 47, I get the depression debuff?”
“Yes, Nick.”
“Petra, what is the most this...um...what is maximum this number...” Nick groaned.
“I don't understand, Nick.”
“I know, I'm trying. Please be patient.” He had taught her that that phrase meant 'wait.'
“Yes, Nick.”
Eventually, he got it across. Apparently, the highest value Petra had ever seen for that number was 81.
“Call that the brain med number. Petra, alert me when the brain med number goes above 81, or below 47.”
“Yes, Nick.”
My doc would probably give up a leg to be able to track this number in her patients. Nick went and got the bowl of tiny pills Petra had made for him. He double-checked that he had taken his meds less than twenty-four hours earlier, and then started taking mini-pills, one at a time, hoping to wait until he saw the number go up and settle again. Unfortunately, it took far too long, so Nick just picked a number of pills to try.
Then he turned to an old habit: doing something boring but productive when depressed. I don't always get to be in a good mood. It would suck to be in a good mood and then have to do something unpleasant. So, do the unpleasant stuff when I feel bad.
He loaded Rockhunter with nearly all of his food. He pulled out half of his air purifiers and one of his water purifiers from different rooms, and loaded them as well. He took three of the solar panels down from outside. If I wanted to spend six hours commuting back and forth, I could bring them some food now. Better to wait until the food printer is ready, and the feedstock.
Plus, I should get some decent sleep and wait for my brain number to go up. I probably shouldn't be cranky and depressed when I talk to the aliens.
