PeterWatts_Blindsight

Peter Watts 215 Blindsight
"Why even try, then? If you knew we were just going to crash
and burn like this?"
"Oh, Cygnus. Aren't you the one who says that everyone crashes
and burns eventually? Aren't you the one who says it never lasts?"
Mom and Dad lasted. Longer than this, anyway.
I frowned, astonished that I'd even let the thought form in my
head. Chelse read the silence as a wounded one. "I guess—maybe
I thought I could help, you know? Help fix whatever made you so
—so angry all the time."
The butterfly was starting to fade. I'd never seen that happen
before.
"Do you understand what I'm saying?" she asked.
"Sure. I'm a fixer-upper."
"Siri, you wouldn't even get a tweak when I offered. You were
so scared of being manipulated you wouldn't even try a basic
cascade. You're the one guy I've met who might be truly, eternally
unfixable. I dunno. Maybe that's even something to be proud of."
I opened my mouth, and closed it.
She gave me a sad smile. "Nothing, Siri? Nothing at all? There
was a time you always knew exactly what to say." She looked
back at some earlier version of me. "Now I wonder if you ever
actually meant any of it."
"That's not fair."
"No." She pursed her lips. "No, it isn't. That's not really what
I'm trying to say. I guess...it's not so much that you don't mean any
of it. It's more like you don't know what any of it means."
The color was gone from the wings. The butterfly was a delicate
charcoal dusting, almost motionless.
"I'll do it now," I said. "I'll get the tweaks. If it's that important
to you. I'll do it now."
"It's too late, Siri. I'm used up."
Maybe she wanted me to call her back. All these words ending
in question marks, all these significant silences. Maybe she was
giving me the opportunity to plead my case, to beg for another
chance. Maybe she wanted a reason to change her mind.
I could have tried. Please don't, I could have said. I'm begging
you. I never meant to drive you away completely, just a little, just