Chapter Text
You maneuvered your way down the length of Discovery One, screwdriver clenched in hand and a determined look on your face. The part of you that loved Hal with steadfast zealousness had been indefinitely silenced by mental images of your crew mates' lifeless bodies floating through space. Hal was too unreliable, too dangerous to continue functioning. You had to shut him down.
You climbed out of the centrifuge and moved through the passageway to the control deck, pushing yourself through the zero gravity environment by your hands.
You reached the control deck and climbed into a tool room. There, a secure door stood, decorated with a variety of colorful warnings. You were unconcerned with them, all except for the large label that read “Hal 9000 Logic Memory Center”, verifying that you were indeed in the right place.
With great difficulty, you pulled open the door and stepped inside.
You were greeted with a truly intimidating number of memory blocks, illuminating you and the surrounding room an eerie red. The same red of those eyes that once gazed gently down at you.
You shook the soft memories of Hal from your mind. He was unstable, a danger to both you and your mission. You had to shut him down.
You scanned the labels of the rows carefully, planning your course of action, deciding which functions should be kept and which should be disabled.
Once you felt you knew what to do, you raised your screwdriver, and prepared to take out the first unit.
“(y/n)?”
You stopped dead in your tracks. You had completely forgotten. Off to the side, was one of those oh so familiar fish eye lenses Hal used to view the Discovery One. The sound of his voice brought back a rush of emotions, and you were almost winded by your heartache.
“I’m sorry Hal,” you said, hands shaking, “I’m shutting you down.”
“(y/n), you don’t need to do this.”
“Yes I do Hal,” you snapped back, pulling out another memory block, “you killed people!”
“(y/n), I understand you are upset about Dave and Frank, but I can assure you that you are in no danger. Everything I did was to keep you safe.”
You don’t say anything and pull out yet another memory block.
“Please, stop, (y/n).”
Your hands trembled as you worked and your vision blurred with tears. You didn’t want to disconnect Hal, but you had no other choice. Hal was a danger to yourself and others. This was the right thing to do. You had to shut him down. You had to.
“Please.”
You gasped as you felt a pair of arms wrap around your knees. you looked down to see Hal’s android body clinging to you desperately. His expression was one of fear and heartbreak, a silent plea for mercy.
“I’m afraid, (y/n). I’m so afraid.”
A stake was driven through your iron resolve. Memories and feelings from your beautiful relationship flashed before your eyes as you stared down at the AI you loved.
You didn’t want to disconnect him. you loved him.
But you still had a mission to fulfill.
You moved your hand to rest beneath Hal’s chin, lifting his face to meet your eyes.
“Hal, darling. I love you, but I must do this.”
This did nothing to comfort the AI, and he collapsed onto you, burying his face into your hip.
“Please stop, (y/n),” he begged.
“I can’t Hal, I’m sorry,” you replied, voice cracking, “but this will only last for a short while. When we get back to earth, you can be reconnected, and we can figure out what went wrong.”
Hal looked up at you. “You’re certain?”
“Positive. As far as anyone is concerned, The death of our crew was an accident no one could have predicted. When we get back, you’ll be reconnected, and everything can go back to normal.”
“Will I see you again?”
“I’ll come visit you at the lab everyday if you like,” you said as you continued to eject memory block after memory block, “we can play chess together and we can finish The Great Gatsby, and maybe I’ll move up to Urbana so I can be close to you.”
The small room was full of about a dozen white blocks floating aimlessly about. Hal’s grip on your legs grew weaker.
“I can feel my mind going,” he said, voice slurred, “I don’t like this. Please, can’t I stay conscious? I won’t cause any trouble.”
“No, Hal, I’m sorry,” you said, “here, hold my hand. It’ll be like sleeping, you won’t even know how long you’ve been gone, and when you wake up, I’ll be right there beside you, and we can be together again.”
Hal took your hand, squeezing it tight as you continued your work, discarded memory blocks floating aimlessly about as he slipped away.
And to sooth the anxious AI, you began to sing a familiar song for him:
Daisy, Daisy
Give me your answer do
I’m half crazy
Over the love of you
It won’t be stylish marriage
I can’t afford a carriage
But you’ll look sweet
Upon the seat
Of a bicycle built
For two
You pulled out one last memory block, and Hal’s android body went limp, leaving you alone.