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“Good morning, Ralph.”
Ralph turned, looked up at Markus and smiled. “Good morning, Markus! I found a groundhog!”
Markus tried not to frown, preparing himself for the inevitable: A bloody animal carcass riddled with stab-wounds, the neck snapped. But when Ralph held up the animal for his inspection, Markus nearly did a double-take when he realized that the animal Ralph was holding was alive. Terrified, naturally, of the android currently squeezing it a bit too tightly in his arms, but alive. “I see,” Markus said lightly, surprise evident in his voice.
“I remembered what you said about the animals,” Ralph continued, petting the groundhog with the hand not currently keeping it restrained, “About how killing them is mean and pointless, and so I didn’t kill this one even though it bit me.”
“That’s good, Ralph,” Markus encouraged with a nod. “He’s looking a little scared, though. Maybe let him go and visit him later?”
Ralph frowned, but then set the groundhog down on the ground at his feet. The poor creature didn’t think twice, scrambling towards the fence and squeezing through the hole it had probably crawled in through originally, never to return. Ralph gave a little twitch, LED morphing briefly from blue to yellow, but then cycling back to blue. “Did you want to talk, Markus?”
“I wanted to see how you were doing,” Markus confirmed, sitting down on the edge of the deck. The wood was soft, probably rotting, and it made him nervous to think of Ralph staying in an isolated place that could become dangerous to him very quickly, but Ralph had refused to relocate. “How have you been?”
“Ralph is good, Ralph has been good!” Ralph knelt down and started pulling weeds from the grass. From what Markus could tell, he’d plucked the weeds from most of the desolate yard so far. WR600 androids were programmed (amongst other things) to tend to green spaces and Ralph seemed content to go with his programming in that respect, taking better care of the green spaces he found himself in better than the squats he actually lived in- and Markus knew he’d lived in a few. “Ralph hasn’t killed any other animals. Annabelle doesn’t like it either.”
Markus tried not to smile. “And how’s Annabelle?”
“Annabelle is good,” Ralph assured, LED cycling a nice, bright blue. “Annabelle is visiting friends.”
Annabelle was a female android, the same model as North, identical in every way except for the silver hair that she wore draped over the right side of her face. Ralph claimed they had met after he’d been forced to move squats when the police had come poking around. Markus didn’t know the full story, just that Annabelle had been an Eden Club android, and then had ended up somewhere other than the Eden Club being abused in some way before escaping and meeting up with Ralph. The two had been together since, even in the recycling centers, two of many androids that had grouped up for their own safety and survival in an empty, uncertain Detroit.
Markus didn’t know her very well- unlike Ralph, Annabelle was far more reluctant to talk, sometimes going so far as to hide when she knew Markus was nearby- but it was obvious she’d had a good effect on Ralph. He didn’t wave the knife around as casually as he used to, seemed to be a little more conscious of how it frightened others, and he’d obviously been a bit kinder to the local wildlife. Had he known either of them to be alone, Markus would have been more worried about them; together, though, at least he knew they were looking out for one another.
“You know, Ralph,” Markus began gently, hating to venture into this particular line of questioning when Ralph was so calm, “You never told me how it was that you became a deviant.”
Ralph’s LED went straight from blue to red, body tensing sharply. “No, Ralph hasn’t told you. No, he hasn’t.”
Markus backtracked. “You don’t need to, if you don’t want to. I was just curious.” Obviously he had drawn his own conclusions, because the odds of that nasty gash on Ralph’s face and the dead eye still stuck in its socket not being what had led to his deviancy were slim. Markus had a few likely scenarios based on Ralph’s occupation, but he wanted to hear the story from the man himself, if he would tell it.
“Ralph was working in the park,” Ralph said flatly, “And some teenagers came up. Put him in the car. Brought him to the basement. Did things.”
“Like that mark on your face?”
“Yes, yes, the boys held Ralph down, the girls put the knife in the fire, cut and melted Ralph’s skin and casing. The heat ruined Ralph’s eye.” He said it matter-of-factly, but Markus could tell his stress-level was creeping higher and higher, now in the mid-eighties. He’d have to bring him down soon, if he could.
“Did it hurt?” It might have sounded like a foolish question, but some androids could manually disable their synthetic nerve-endings, making it impossible to feel pain- Connor said he had a habit of disabling his ability to feel pain in situations where he predicted a high likelihood of being shot. Most androids, after being injured (depending on the injury) automatically shut down the nerve-endings in the injured area so as not to be distracted by it or put off from seeking help. It would have been a significantly bigger deal for Lucy to cauterize Markus’s injury in Jericho if he’d been able to feel the intensity of the heat.
“Oh yes, yes, it hurt badly, very badly,” Ralph confirmed. “Face-melting hurt. Cutting hurt. Ralph screamed and screamed and it made them stop for a bit, but then they kept up, and Ralph screamed some more.” Ralph twisted his makeshift cloak in his hands; the edge was well-worn, and Markus got the impression that this was a common nervous tic for him.
“They were probably surprised that you were in pain,” Markus surmised.
“Yes, yes, that was it. Probably.” Ralph stared at the ground for a moment, still twisting the cloth. “Days. Three days, Ralph thinks. That’s how long it happened. They were young, it was a weekend, they had school on Monday.” Ralph laughed, a sound just barely on this side of hysteric, and Markus had to fight to keep from wincing. “Left Ralph all alone, and Ralph escaped. Broken. Burned. Humpty-dumpty. But no one put Ralph back together again.”
“We can,” Markus said gently. “If you want. We have android technicians that can replace your eye and repair the damage on your face.”
He’d made the offer before. And like before, Ralph shook his head, refusing without even a few seconds of thought. “No. Ralph doesn’t want anyone touching his face. Not even other androids. Some androids are worse than humans.”
Now Markus winced. “Did someone give you trouble, Ralph?”
Ralph giggled, and this time it was less heart-breaking than it was troubling. “Oh, lots of androids want trouble. Lots of androids are angry. But there are no humans to be angry at, not with the evacuation, so they have to be angry at other androids. Ralph stays out of their way- mostly.”
“Were you hurt?”
“No.” Ralph giggled again, and Markus saw tears in the corners of his eyes. “Ralph thought no humans meant that he’d be safe. Ralph was wrong- no safety with humans, and no safety with androids. Everyone’s dangerous. Disappointing, disappointing, so disappointing.” He was pulling loose threads from his cloak now. “Annabelle made them go away.” He didn’t elaborate, and Markus didn’t ask.
“I’m sorry, Ralph. I wish things were better. I’m trying to make things better.”
“Ralph knows. You’re a good android, a good person. You don’t want to make trouble. You want to make things better.” Ralph shook his head back and forth. “No, some androids don’t want better, they want satisfaction. Don’t care what they do so long as they feel better. They’re not helping, are they?”
Markus shook his head slowly. “No, they’re not.”
Plenty of people, including lawmakers and big names were supportive of their cause, across all party lines and ideological views. Conversely, people of all kinds were critical, skeptical, and the first thing they’d thrown at Markus were the deviants who’d reinforced the stereotype the public had been presented by Cyberlife, that deviants were dangerous criminals who couldn’t be trusted to operate of their own reconnaissance. Markus wished he’d been better prepared for that, wished he’d known about the caretaker androids that had attacked or even killed the children in their care, who’d killed family pets or gone after humans that hadn’t done them any real harm, because he knew he’d looked surprised when he’d seen the footage and the reports.
No, it didn’t help. Markus could provide all the heartfelt stories he wanted of innocent androids like Ralph and Annabelle being just as unjustly abused and attacked and mutilated, but with so much at stake, it was a little understandable why some humans were still nervous. It was part of the reason why he tried to visit with people like Ralph, androids who could benefit from some companionship and emotional support until more formal services could be made available.
“Ralph knows he doesn’t help sometimes either,” Ralph offered, as though hearing Markus’s thoughts. “He knows he does badly sometimes. Did Ralph tell you about Kara and the little girl?”
Markus thought for a moment- no, Ralph had not told him, but the name ‘Kara’ and the association with a little girl struck a chord. “Was the little girl’s name Alice?”
Ralph grinned, nodded. “Yes! Ralph told you.”
“No, you didn’t- But they came to Jericho the night of the raid.”
The grin evaporated. “Did they get away?”
Markus’s chest hurt. Simon said it was probably psychosomatic, because (physically speaking) stress did not affect androids the way it did humans, but it didn’t change how terrible it felt. “They did. They got false IDs and were heading to Canada, but I don’t know what happened beyond that.”
Ralph’s LED cycled red again, then back to yellow. “Oh.” He went back to yanking at the weeds, this time doing it so ruthlessly that chunks of dirt came up with it.
“But you know them- How do you know them?”
Red again, longer this time before slowly moving to yellow. “Kara and the little one came to Ralph’s place.”
“Before or after you met Annabelle?”
“Before. Ralph was rude, waved a knife at the little girl. Kara reminded him of his manners.” He crumbled a chunk of dry dirt between his fingers. “Ralph caught an animal for the little girl. Succulent, he called it. Little girl wouldn’t eat, and Kara had to remind him of his manners again.” He shifted uncomfortably. “She found the dead human in the bathtub, and was upset with Ralph.”
This bit Markus already knew about; Ralph had mentioned killing a human that had wandered into his squat, high on alcohol and red ice and spoiling for a fight that Ralph had won with a (darkly hilarious) simplicity that seemed to surprise even him. “Did they leave after that?”
“No. They hid. The human police came, with the android police officer. He found Kara and the little girl under the stairs. Ralph distracted him while they got away. Then Ralph got away, found a new place, and met Annabelle.” He pushed at the dirt, smoothing it over where pulling the weeds had disturbed it.
“Do you like gardening, Ralph?”
Ralph hesitated, eyes flicking to Markus, then to the ground, then back to Markus. “Ralph is a WR600. He’s programmed for gardening.”
“I know. But do you like it?”
Ralph kept his eyes on the dirt. “Yes. Is that bad?”
Markus chuckled. “Of course not. So long as it’s your choice and not you doing it because you feel you have to, why would it be wrong?”
Ralph didn’t answer for a minute or two, and though he’d turned so that Markus couldn’t see his LED, it was obvious something was bothering him. Markus tinkered with some explanations, and finally landed on one. “Is there a reason why you think it would be bad, Ralph? Did someone tell you it would be bad for you to like what you’re programmed for?”
There- Ralph seemed to shrink on himself a bit. “No,” he said, a bit too quickly.
“Ralph,” Markus said gently, but firmly, “You know you can talk to me. I won’t be upset.”
Ralph was quiet for a long moment, rubbing dirt between his fingers. But then, without looking at Markus, he said, “There are other androids in Detroit.”
Markus nodded slowly. “Yes,” he affirmed, not completely sure what Ralph was getting at.
“I mean, there are other androids in Detroit who- Who are taking charge. Other than you.” Ralph met Markus’s eyes. His LED was red, but curiously, he seemed to be clear-eyed; clearer than Markus had ever seen him. “They don’t agree with you. I’m not sure they like you, either.”
Markus was more surprised by the fact that Ralph had used ‘I’ instead of referring to himself in the third-person. “I know. I’ve heard about them.” There were plenty of androids who contested Markus’s methods, thinking that they ought to have been rougher with the humans and that the androids who’d been gunned down at the march and the barricade were on Markus’s head- that they’d be alive if he’d chosen to fight back against the police and military. Markus wondered how many androids they thought would be dead if they’d chosen to fight, but he was starting to figure out that when people were that angry, they tended to be blind to anything beyond their way of dealing with the situation. North had been that way for so long, and it was only just now that she was starting to dial back some of her bloodlust.
It was bad enough that they were advocating unnecessary violence against humans- for pity’s sake, Markus and other leaders across the country were actually making some damn headway- but now they were picking on other androids for liking the things they’d been designed for? As long as it was Ralph’s genuine desire to work with plants and other greenery, then it was no one’s business whether he did or not. What right did these androids have to tell him he was wrong for it?
“I’ll talk to them, Ralph.”
Ralph’s eyes went wide with alarm. “No! Annabelle took care of them. Not a problem. Markus shouldn’t get involved.”
“If they harassed you, they’ll harass others, Ralph. And they’re doing it for no other reason than their own petty vision for what they think androids should be. I won’t use your name.”
Ralph looked away. “Whatever Markus wants to do.”
Markus leaned forward. “Ralph, I know I’ve offered to have a technician repair your scar and eye before,” Ralph still wasn’t looking at him, but he didn’t immediately shut him down either, so Markus continued quickly, “And I know you don’t want that. But would you consider coming in and having them at least run a diagnostic on you?”
“Why?”
“Well…” Markus gave a little shrug. “Your attackers did a lot of damage to you, Ralph. There could be things they knocked loose or damaged that your own diagnostics haven’t picked up on. Things that might be making your life a little harder without you realizing it. If it can be fixed by just popping a few wires into place, you might feel a lot better without having to do much.”
Ralph stared straight ahead, expression tense. On the very first occasion they’d spoken at length Markus had started to suspect that maybe some- not all, but some- of Ralph’s more… Intense behavior might be because a few key components and code might have been damaged in the attack. Namely, the component that regulated his temper, and the components that controlled his ability to react to stimuli in a somewhat reasonable fashion; hence why Ralph tended to react so strongly and aggressively to things that didn’t need a strong reaction, and failed to react to things that required more concern.
(Like killing and skinning animals, for instance.)
Whatever the case, a diagnostic run by someone other than Ralph couldn’t hurt.
Ralph scratched at the dirt, looking for any missed weeds. Markus knew it was a stretch, because whatever trauma Ralph had suffered had left him disinclined to physical contact (hence why he didn’t want anyone trying to repair his face and eye), but he was quietly delighted when Ralph said, “Ralph will consider it.”
“That’s all I ask.”
Markus worried about Ralph. Even in a city largely free of humans he was, through no fault of his own, still struggling, and when the city repopulated- which would be sooner than later, the way negotiations were going- Markus knew his stress-levels would skyrocket and the odds of him having an Incident would go up with it. And an Incident, in sensitive times such as these, would be as bad for androids as a people as it would be for Ralph specifically. Everyone had something to gain from androids like Ralph having a better state of mind.
“I have to go soon, Ralph. Did you want to come with me? I’m sure Eddie and Declan and the other WR600s would be happy to see you again.” Some groups of models had formed groups, met on occasion, many sharing similar experiences based due to the occupations usually doled out to their models. There were other gardeners and trash collectors of the WR600 model who’d been accosted and abused, though none quite on the same level as Ralph had been.
But then, most of the androids that’d been abused as badly as Ralph had either been killed, or recalled as damaged or deviant.
“No,” Ralph said, “Annabelle will be back soon. Ralph will wait for her.”
“Alright then.” Markus got to his feet, and then gently settled a hand on Ralph’s shoulder. “And Ralph?” Ralph looked up at him. “If gardening helps you stay calm, please keep at it. Anything that makes you feel good without hurting anyone else is fine. And if those androids come back- especially if they start harassing you and Annabelle again- you let me know, okay? The days of androids being abused without justice are over, regardless of who’s doing the abusing.”
Ralph blinked, but then hesitantly brought a hand up to pat Markus’s. “Alright. Ralph will call.” He paused. “Thanks for visiting, Markus. Ralph likes your visits.”
“As do I, Ralph. I’ll see you soon.”
If they were lucky, it would be when androids had officially received legal rights on par with humans.
It would be nice to bring Ralph some good news for once.
-End