Cry. Play. Eat. Rinse and Repeat.

Posted on Mon 13th May, 2019 @ 9:14pm by Lieutenant JG Artyom Mikhailov

708 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: A Diplomatic Affair
Location: Personal Quarters / Tivoli Gardens
Timeline: MD 4, 17:00

Even their personal quarters seemed alien to young Matthew. Arytom had let the toddler down shortly after they entered and Lieutenant Gray departed so he could explore, and so Arytom could prepare a meal for the two of them using the replicator, but Matthew refused to wander. Worse still, and for some inexplicable reason, Matthew began to cry.

“I no want here!” He shouted after several minutes of Arytom working his way through the various things that could have been wrong, even as he clung to his father’s chest. Artyom was confused, as well as frustrated because he was confused.

“Chto vy imeyete v vidu?” Arytom asked.
What do you mean?

The replicator behind him chirped, and he picked Matthew up and took him over to see what he had prepared. But the boy pulled away and began to kick at the air. “I no want that. I no want that, daddy. I no want that.” He cried.

“But they’re corn dogs. You love corn dogs.” Arytom replied, thinking of the handful of times while they were stranded on the planet that he’d agreed to using the runabout’s replicator to make something special for Matthew even when the runabout’s systems were close to failing. A lucky kick from Matthew connected with the tray of corn dogs, sending everything to the floor.

Desperate for some compliance, Arytom placed Matthew down and held him firmly by the shoulders. “Nedopustimoye povedeniye! Vy ostanovites' i budete ispol'zovat' svoye slovo.”
Unacceptable behavior! You will stop and use your word.

Apparently Arytom’s baritone of a voice had startled Matthew enough that he did stop crying, and then proceeded to bury his head in Artyom’s shoulder even harder while whimpering quietly. After a moment or two, Matthew pulled away with tears in his eyes and snot running down his nose – (and presumably down Arytom’s shoulder). “I want go home.” He sobbed, quietly as though he were trying to be obedient.

Out of his depth, Artyom’s brows furrowed. “Boy, we are home.”

Matthew shook his head and proceeded to sound as though he were about to go ballistic again, but stopped himself. “No. I want go home.” His eyes were fixed. “Home is far away, daddy.”

And then what Matthew was pleading for struck Artyom like a mallet, and he understood. After spending almost three years of his life with very little technology and not one other soul on the unnamed L-Class planet he was born on, everything he’d experienced over the last few hours must have overwhelmed him.

Artyom hugged Matthew closely. “O moy milyy mal'chik”
Oh my sweet boy.

“Matthew, we can’t go back to that place. It was dangerous there. Remember?” Artyom asked; Matthew nodded. Artyom considered his next words carefully for the precious few seconds that Matthew might have allowed before losing his temper again. “We will be ok, son. Everything is better now. Do you want to see some trees? This place has trees. Do you want to see them?”

Snot still running down his nose, Matthew nodded and even laughed a little. It was enough for Artyom to know his answer. Less than twenty-minutes later, Artyom and Matthew had found their way into the Tivoli Gardens. Already much more spacious than their quarters or even most of the station they’ve seen already, Matthew took off like a bat as soon as he saw the trees. Artyom was also pleasantly surprised to see that there were only handful of people around so the overall noise level was dimmed as well.

Matthew jumped up and down excitedly. “Daddy. Trees! I see trees!”

“How many trees?” Artyom asked, chuckling, a relieved smile on his face.

Matthew stopped and started to count. “One. Two. Three. Six. Seven. Eight.” It didn’t seem to matter if he’d gone back to counting the same trees over again before ending at eleven… which was about as high as he could count to Arytom’s knowledge, or that Matthew gave up and started running circles around the trees again soon after. As long as Matthew was happy.

Of course, five minutes later… Matthew wanted to eat again.

 

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