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Big Blue was not ‘alive’ in any sense, and yet Alys could it feel its monolithic presence. It thrummed and pulsed, despite its dormancy. White noise echoed throughout its chamber, bouncing off the edge-less walls back to Big Blue’s enormous, bulbous mass. It loomed overhead, casting much of the room in its shadow.
Alys couldn’t take his eyes from it. His legs felt boneless. His lungs strained. Was the air in the room thinning? How long had he been standing here?
Leon Dekker.
What if Dekker had just been playing dead? Turing had said that they couldn’t detect any signs of life, but how much credence did that have over a combat android? What if he had just manipulated them again? Another lie to add to the pile? For all they both knew, he could be right behind them, watching.
“Alys?” Turing’s voice seemed muffled. Were they still in quiet mode? Alys didn’t hear them. He could feel them squirming in his arms, their hand lightly shaking his good shoulder. “Alys, you can put me down now. I’m okay. We need to call TOMCAT now.”
But Alys wasn’t thinking of ‘now’.
He was thinking of barricaded doors shutting, opening, and sometimes crashing down in a hot electric flash. A rock solid body ramming into his side, tackling him to the floor. The sour odor of exposed copper ligaments mixed with bio-fluids that dribbled down the gash in Dekker’s cheek. The flash of the soldier’s eyes as Alys scrambled for his zapper to shoot.
The cold terror of nearly forgetting where the trigger was.
Turing screaming for him to run. Them yanking at Alys’ hand so hard that his arm dislocated from its socket, an exhibition of inhuman power followed by a stream of quivering, whispered apologies as they both crouched in the mist to hide. Alys biting on his shirt collar to keep from crying out as Turing popped his shoulder back into place.
That had been when they both realized that they were out of ammunition.
Back with Big Blue, Alys was not aware of how loud and shallow his breath was becoming. He clutched at Turing in his arms too tightly for any human to be able to tolerate. He couldn’t see the ROM gazing up at him, the simple line of their mouth twisted in worry. He didn’t feel the lapel of his jacket being tugged at.
Turing was saying something to him. Alys couldn’t parse the words. His brain was too busy racing back to the corridors.
He remembered their final sprint. Turing had chosen the path that time, leading Alys by the hand left, then right as they went over an idea from their realization that Dekker wouldn’t be able to track a ROM’s movements as easily as someone with a pounding heartbeat. They stopped at a four-way intersection.
“Stay here,” Turing had said, “and don’t even think about trying to argue! We don’t have time for that. Just trust me.” Their expression had been frighteningly neutral.
Before Alys could even think of a reply, Turing was gone. He was alone. Silence save for the echoes of small footsteps.
The rest was all a flash to Alys. Turing’s voice echoing from down the hall, goading Dekker to follow them. Alys could remember realizing just what Turing had probably planned. He faintly recalled feeling anger before worry. That little idiot! What were they thinking?!
This had all happened, what? Fifteen minutes ago? It felt like years. The sight of Turing being strangled, their legs too short to kick at Dekker’s chest.
Dekker sputtering laughter. “Aw, hey there, little guy! Your friend run off and leave you behind?” he had asked in patronizing singsong tone.
Alys did not know how Turing had managed to kill Dekker then. Frankly, he didn’t want to know. He could faintly recall them joking once that they were capable of ripping off arms, if they wanted to.
Some things were better left unsaid.
All that mattered was that at the end of it, Dekker had shot two large, corroding holes into Turing’s chest. It was why Alys was carrying them, after all. The functionality of their legs had been severed. Their batteries were terribly damaged.
“Alys, please!”
“I…” Alys could barely hear his own voice. The droning of Big Blue’s latent processor was overpoweringly loud. The edges of his vision looked like black static. His knees were locked up. He was going to collapse. He could faintly recall deciding against wearing a binder before he and Turing left for Treasure Island, knowing that he didn’t have one big enough to be able to handle potentially going underwater in the sewers. Instead, he opted to dig out an old sports bra that, miraculously, still fit.
It didn’t feel like it fit now. It felt like a python had constricted around Alys’ chest, or like he had put on a binder after all and just gone for a swim in it. Amazing. Decades of tech and no one had bothered to invent a water-resistant brand. Figures.
“Alys, your heartrate BPM has risen to 120 in the last seven minutes. Granted, you have been straining yourself in carrying me, but I know for a fact that your average resting rate is approximately 85 BPM! What’s wrong?”
From miles away, Alys felt something like cool plastic pat his cheek. Turing’s fingers.
The touch was grounding. Alys closed his eyes. He heard himself mumble an apology.
Turing shifted about in Alys’ arms, scooting themselves more upright to lean their spherical head on his shoulder. “It’s okay. I know we don’t have much time to dawdle, but I want to make sure you’re okay before we do this.” They hesitated for a moment before asking, “is touching like this okay?” They reached up and tapped their fingers against the crook of Alys’ neck.
“Y-Yeah. It helps,” said Alys. His voice didn’t feel like his own. “Thanks, Tur.” But it was a little louder.
“Of course! Would a hug help?” Despite everything at stake, Turing sounded almost chipper.
The thought of being even more constricted made Alys shudder. “N-No… No. Not right now.” He finally dared to open his eyes, turning away from Big Blue and towards the gentler blue illumination of Turing’s digitized face.
“Understood.” Turing was smiling, but it was worn down with the dashes of worry lines that sometimes framed their eyes. “Then please allow for me to provide a calming auditory backdrop of soothing ocean sounds.”
Crashing waves and faint seagull squawks filtered through Turing’s internal speakers. At least those hadn’t been damaged. Alys puffed a quiet laugh.
Turing beamed. “Your heartrate is already beginning to descend. You may laugh, but you can’t deny the power of, as they say on the mesh, self-care!”
“Whatever you say, bud.” If anything, Alys already felt less frantic. He forced himself to take a couple deep breaths.
“Oh!” Turing’s facial display blipped to an exclamation point. “Yes! Guided deep breathing exercises were also recommended quite highly. Great idea!”
It helped. Alys could feel his limbs enough to unlock his knees. His vision was clearing up. Things were clearer, including the present. He took a few minutes to keep breathing, to kick any thought of Dekker right out of his head.
“I’m sorry, Turing.” Alys sighed. “I know we’ve got a job to do, and you don’t need me losing my cool.”
The ocean sound effects cut off as Turing scoffed. “Alys, you’ve shown nothing but the highest fortitude and tenacity these last few days. If anything, I’m worried that I might have emotionally faltered more than I should have…” they trailed off and glanced towards Big Blue, their expression small.
“Hey.” Shifting his grip, Alys leaned down and bopped his forehead against the top of Turing’s dome. “Let’s get this done and go home. I still want to take you shopping for that hat you saw at Golden Gate, remember?”
“Of course I do!” Turing grinned. “I committed the exact dimensions and color pigmentation to my local memory banks! It will be child’s play to find a copy on the net!”
“Alright, then let’s go. Get ready to call TOMCAT.”