Welp, humans are pretty unpredictable with their death throes, so he probably can't waste too much time asking questions or gawking. Monsters pretty much know when they're finished, but humans can go on talking and raving, only to either abruptly die or to go on raving for several more years.

He carefully notes Childermass's name, and carries on with playing paramedic.

"Yeah. Those defense programs from the computer world. Kind of thought they were Matrix exclusives, but I guess not. But, here."

Only a moment later, they've appeared practically in the doorway of the medical tent.

"No problem," he says, his best attempt at being soothing. "Zecora'll get you patched up. I'll go check on your pal, there."