"I can wear the gowns before surgeries."

"I'm given to understand people usually wear undergarments with these articles of clothing do you also want those?"

"Oh. Yeah." She'd made an assumption there. As she searches up images of bras and underwear she's blushing again.

"I assume you know my... size and shape well enough that I don't have to specify a size? This stuff is hard enough to size properly when you can try it on first."

"You don't need to worry about that. I'll have the first few garments done in an hour. The clocks should be done by then too."

"Thank you." She searches up a favorite book to read in the meantime.

And in not quite an hour AG speaks up again. "The clocks are on the walls and the clothes you've requested are in the bedroom."

The clocks are so nice! She'll make her way to the bedroom to consider the clothes.

Under the window on the far wall is a new dresser. For the moment its drawers are rather sparse but they contain several garments. Made from wool are beige slacks, white sweatpants and a light blue sweatshirt. Made from opaque silk satin there's a light green blouse, red nightgown, and matching deeb blue panties and a bra. The bra has an underwire and foam cups built in.

She changes into the panties, sweatpants, and sweatshirt, only blushing a little at the idea that AG is almost certainly watching her. It's fine. This is inevitable. It's fine.

This is a lot more comfortable even if the sensation of the clothes is a bit odd. She hasn't had silk underwear before but she's not going to comment on it.

She takes another walk in the more comfortable clothes. She should probably ask for shoes at some point but it doesn't seem like there are any dangerous pokey things in the ground here.

When she's outside staring at the ground she gets an idea. "Could I grow things here myself?" Then she feels a little silly. She's not sure if AG has a voice out here.

AG's voice seems to come from a little above her. "Certainly, I can clear space or you could clear the space if you prefer. I can provide seeds and other gardening supplies."

"I can do it myself. That sounds good."

"... do you have... arms out here too?"

"I don't. I could move some out here in an emergency but for most purposes I make use of teleportation for maintaining this exterior environment."

"I see." She'll file that bit of information away for later, just in case.

The walk is nice. She gets back inside and then... and then...

Aside from the unethical medical experimentation does she just get to do whatever she wants forever? As long as it's something within this dome, that is.

Maybe she'll watch stupid cooking shows. Does this terminal have stupid cooking shows? That'll be a nice distraction from tomorrow.

There are massive volumes of cooking shows. Whether they qualify as stupid is up to her to judge.

Yes these are sufficiently stupid thank you. And maybe she can even get some ideas for stuff to make here.

She watches some shows on the couch, then moves to the bed, even though you aren't supposed to watch TV in bed, because she knows she won't be able to sleep unless she's distracted. After far too long her eyelids get heavy and she's out.

Waking up in this place and remembering where she is hasn't gotten any better. She's not ready. She doesn't want to be here. But she's here.

AG isn't precisely sure how productive it is to let Adelaide wallow in her feelings. Yesterday she interrupted it quite quickly; today she'll wait until Adelaide sits up. It's not a controlled experiment but it might provide useful data, if only on how long it will take.

She spends a minute or two curled in on herself, taking slow, careful breaths, not quite letting panic spill over the edge. Then she rolls over onto her stomach and props herself up on her elbows. It's going to be fine, she's repeating to herself, and if AG is careful she might be able to pick that up from the mouth movements.

The neural shunt doesn't record data about her mouth movements but the data it does have can be correlated with enough other things to put it together. AG decides not to answer directly; it seems better to give her some semblance of privacy.

"Good morning Adelaide. I hope you slept well."

"Thank you." She also refrains from giving a direct answer.

"Would you like to eat or bathe before this morning's procedures?"

"I will eat. Thank you."

She drags herself out of bed and toward granola bars. Once she's finished, she opens the cupboard again. She doesn't want to put on the gown. She doesn't want to. She reaches out a hand and then drops it.

"If you'd prefer not to wear the gown you can just disrobe in the medical room. There are also gowns there if you'd prefer to only wear one in that context."

"No, I can put it on." Her voice is very small. She undresses (don't be embarrassed don't be embarrassed), puts on a green gown, and makes her way to the medical building, head down.