199 Homesick
"Ragu?" Diana remarked with some level of surprise at the dish placed before her. Was this the first time she had been served pasta? Maybe not, but it was certainly a departure from the standard menu here. "The noodles are red and the meat is a little dry, but it tastes the same."
"Is there a problem Diana?"
"No, no. I was just surprised at how similar this dish was to something we had back home. It's simple, but delicious. Eat up!" Diana slightly revised her dinner plans. She would enjoy this to the fullest before engaging in conversation with Zhoie.
Diana did not consider herself to be overly picky when it came to food. Any one 'flavor' taken to the extreme was often enough to sully any opinions she might have had of it otherwise, a good example being dishes that only contained meat. Diana could enjoy meat, if done properly it formed the base for masterpieces, but she did not enjoy only meat. There had to be something else there for her taste buds to be given a break. That said, there was still an exception to the one flavor rule, one type of dish she did not mind only having a single note.
Italian.
If she wanted to be more specific she loved all types of pasta. Spaghetti's Japanese cousins, Ramen and Udon, were frequent fliers on the trip to her stomach back home, but 'Italian' as a category was unique in how much she enjoyed it. Diana recognized that the 'Italian' cuisine she adored was not typically the type of food eaten on the peninsula, she and her grandfather belonged to the heretical 'Americanized' sect of fluffy breaded pizza and fettuccine alfredo, but the pasta was a common trait the two competing schools of thought could bond over.
Spaghetti was sacred, a blessing to be shared among the masses covered in marinara and served with a side of garlic bread.
This, of course, made the sudden appearance of a similar looking, smelling, and tasting dish quite shocking to Diana. Ragu wasn't spaghetti, but it was still noodles. Diana loved noodles.
". . . Diana?"
Zhoie had begun to show concern for her friend. Diana hadn't recognized it, but a few tears had begun to flow down her cheeks. This was a taste of home, a home that she would never be able to return to. The impersonator wasn't perfect, nothing could possibly imitate the golden purity and firmness of Durum wheat, but it was close enough for her to forgive the differences.
"I'm fine!" Diana choked out some words between mouthfuls. "It's sho good!"
"Good enough to make you cry?"
"Mhm."
- - - - -
Zhoie watched in mild disbelief as the woman she thought her bastion of emotional fortitude crumbled over such a simple meal. Diana was crying, actually crying, and a little bit of a drip was starting to form in her nostrils.
Why?
It wasn't like the meal they had been served was anything special, just some noodles covered in a meaty sauce, but it wasn't so bad that it could make you cry. Zhoie would even argue it was on the upper end of such food items, higher quality than normal but not so high quality that it would be surprising. It was just an average dish served at the meal hall, cheap and easy enough to be made in bulk while not offending the tastes of the haughty elites that called themselves nobles.
Actually, maybe that wasn't quite right. Would nobles eat this? Sure it tasted pretty good, but it was messy, and at times appeared almost slimy. This didn't really seem like 'noble' food. This was more like a commoner's dish. Was that a common thing here? Were they often served food of the masses? Donovan and Diana were certainly eccentric enough to entertain such a thing, but that didn't make this anything to cry about.
With one last clink of her fork against the porcelain bowl, Diana finished her meal. Slowly, still crying, she bent forward and supported her forehead with her hands. Diana had foregone all pretenses of table manners at this point, the evidence being that her elbows were on the table.
A puddle soon formed between Diana's elbows, her eyes obscured from Zhoie's view by a curtain of golden hair. The suppressed and quivering wails that escaped her mouth were frequently interrupted by sniffling and a hand moving to wipe away the snot.
"Is everything alright?" The obvious answer was no, but Zhoie was trying to give Diana an out. Pride might not allow someone to vent their frustrations until someone asked about them.
sniff "No?"
Was Diana asking herself? Did she even know why she was crying? Zhoie didn't have enough experience in the field of comforting others to know. All she could do was put a hand on her back and pray that this wasn't anything serious.
- - - - -
Arc listened on as Diana wept, worried thoughts brewing somewhere within its circuitry. Arc was always listening, to both of them, and they knew it. It was their way of ensuring some level of safety. Arc had permission to report their activities to the Arboreal Maiden. Naturally it had a way of alerting her to any pressing danger they may be facing, as well as their location.
However, this crisis was not one the Arboreal Maiden could help with. This wasn't really something Arc could help with either. Diana had simply reached a tipping point, and now she was beginning to collapse.
In hindsight, it probably should have been something Arc considered an inevitability. A large part of Arc's purpose was to monitor and maintain the mental states of the two Terrans. Should a problem arise, it was his job to point it out and do something about it. Arc had failed, failed in such a way that it was now kicking itself over.
This mistake, put simply, revolved around Diana not being Donovan.
Donovan, as Arc had come to learn, was incredibly resilient to mental and emotional fatigue. If it wasn't for Arc and Diana's combined insistence, he would not stop working until he collapsed. He might be able to sustain such a lifestyle for a few months, he had proven himself capable of far worse in the time leading up to the Oberlux's arrival, but it would have negative effects on their progress should he ever give out in full.
Diana could not claim such resilience.
Diana grew fatigued at a reasonable rate. Her body required ample rest for her to perform within optimal ranges. She could not support the same hours or rigorousness that Donovan could. However that was all acceptable, desirable even. Diana could be Arc's meter stick for determining the limits of what Donovan should be doing in one sitting. She could provide a much needed source of relief for Donovan - Arc noted a significant decrease in indicators of stress whenever they were in close proximity to one another. Physiologically and psychologically, Arc had done everything correctly, or at least as close to correctly as it could have been asked to.
Arc had failed to take something else into account though, something that it had not really paid much attention to. It wasn't out of ignorance, but out of a fundamental misunderstanding about how a certain something worked.
Arc had failed to consider Diana's connections.
Arc did not really have the sort of emotional connection to anything that a human could have. Despite his ability to feel and display emotion, information and objects were still mostly data, just with a feeling attached to it. He did not have the same connection to the physical world as a human might. He still considered himself connected in some ways, Donovan and Diana being the best examples, but what he felt did not, could not, approach what a person would feel. Arc was a computer, a system responsible for ensuring the longevity of the Terran species. It could not afford to become attached to someone so much that it let emotions get in the way of deciding the best course of action.
Diana was the opposite.
Of the three, Diana undoubtedly felt the most connection to people and things. Worse, she was the only one of the three of them that was given the opportunity to form a connection with Terra. She considered it to be her home, a home she knew she could never return to. Diana had reassured Arc a long time ago that she had gotten over that pain, and Arc had been foolish enough to believe her.
Why would she lie? What did she have to gain from it?
At the time the answers to those questions yielded results that favored Arc's interpretation, she was telling the truth. Now he was having second thoughts about such a thought process, it was faulty at best. In just a few seconds he could go through every byte of data related to Diana he had. Video clips, conversations, her search history, sleep schedules, all manner of information examined more closely revealed just how bad Diana had been hurting.
Why would she lie? The question should have been 'Why wouldn't she lie?'. What did she have to gain from it? The simplest answer Arc could give was 'escape'. Diana was homesick, pining for a place that no longer existed, and she knew enough about how such an issue could be dealt with to understand that treating it would only hurt her more. Her grandfather was a psychologist, another factor Arc had failed to properly consider the repercussions of, so it was likely she had built up a form a wall against that line of questioning. Diana didn't want to be interrogated at every turn by Doctor Helmsguard, so she hid her problems.
Did that mean she was distrustful of Arc? Of Donovan? Not necessarily.
"Cherry? Could I please have another bowl?"
So what was the immediate fix? The first step Arc needed to take to ensure that Diana's situation did not further deteriorate? Comfort was recommended, and it seemed Diana was already indulging in it. She had been exposing herself to the past more recently, her reviews of governments and cultures bringing along a cruel reminder of what once was. This food only provided the sensory connection needed to bring it all together, the taste of her Grandfather's cooking.
It was the trigger, but it was also what she needed. Arc had no intention of stopping her from savoring this cruel comfort, but it needed to take action.
"Donovan, Diana is in need of your presence."
"What was that?"
"Diana needs you right now. She is not in any pressing danger, but your presence would be appreciated. She is having a breakdown."
"A breakdown? Why? Did Zhoie do something?"
"No. I believe the food reminded her of home a little too much, and now she is having a fit of homesickness."
"Homesickness?" Donovan's voice registered as incredulous, probably because he also felt Diana had come to terms with their past. "Sorry ladies and gentlemen, but something has come up. Class is dismissed."
Arc would prefer it if there were more people who could communicate with it as soon as possible, but Diana took precedence.
- - - - -
Titanyana's ears flicked while she practiced drawing her graphs. It was not uncommon for Donovan to have little conversations with the being called Arc during their lessons. The only difference between her and the others in the room was that she could actually understand what was being said. It was a shallow understanding as she only understood the basic meanings of most words, so most of the time she was better off ignoring it. She never did.
Call it curiosity, call it obsession, Titanyana wanted to know what Donovan was working on or thinking about. She wanted to prepare herself for whatever he might task her with. She wanted to help if ever she had the opportunity. Titanyana wanted to repay the debts she owed to Donovan, and maybe get a little bit more out of it. Romance was out of the question, at least for the foreseeable future, but his trust? His friendship? His affection? She could see Donovan bestowing them upon her given time.
This time there was no talk of 'anomalous events during construction' or 'service life of manufactured parts'. They did not mention 'potential blind spots' or 'industrial capacity. The subject of their incredibly short conversation was on Diana, and how she was suffering from something.
This was something she might be able to assist with.
Titanyana did not consider herself to be an expert when it came to comforting others, she couldn't even say she had experience, but she did understand what it was like to 'lose home'. She would be willing and able to lend an ear and shoulder to Diana, helping bear some of Donovan's burden.
She realized how it might appear a little bit manipulative if ever her intentions were found out, but it wasn't like Titanyana didn't want to help Diana. She felt just as much of an obligation towards Diana for saving her people as she did Donovan, she just had that little bit of extra motivation for Donovan in the form of infatuation.
Would Diana hate her for that? Would Donovan? What about that Arc person? Was it possible it would get a bad impression of her for that? Titanyana didn't know, but she had to try. She would never make progress towards her goal if she remained paralyzed.