Chapter Text
The Commander of the Maverick Hunters treats his desk chair as a throne, his office a grand court. He is the judge, jury, and executioner, and Zero stands before him like he’s on trial.
Except it’s not a trial. Technically, Zero has already undergone judgement though his processor wasn’t screwed on right at the time, and he hasn't done anything to warrant an admonishing. Earlier, Sigma sent him a curt message to come to his office for an “assignment,” which alone has Zero’s wires crossed.
It’s on the Navigators to conduct mission briefings. This must be a special occasion.
“I’ll go over the itinerary,” says Sigma, straight to the point. “You will be accompanying X starting Thursday. You will meet him at Cain Labs, ride to Lakecrest Airport, and arrive to the Capai Union in the same day. The next day, you’ll travel to Udara Pulau.”
Zero looks up the name. Udara Pulau: an aerial city just like Sky Lagoon, but third of the size and capable of traveling around within the continent. Proud to be this quinquennal's host for the World Expo. Adult admission is eighty zenny a day.
He leaves search. “This isn’t a pleasure trip,” Zero throws.
“No, it’s not,” confirms Sigma. “How much do you know about the Emerald Spears?”
“The anti-technology extremists? Are they planning something?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out. They’re becoming more aggressive these days - hosting rallies down in Acre and the Swarf Side, intimidating reploids out of the western sector, and protesting at X’s press conferences. Last week, X noticed that he was being followed. Recon Unit couldn’t grab any footage from the CCTV. The stalker was careful to stay in the blind spots. We had to post a Batton Bone from across the street to see if they tried again.”
“Did they?”
Sigma’s eyes glint icily. “Three times, a different person each time. The one match we found was a Ryan Irons, a former ACPD sergeant and Magyarföld war veteran.”
“ACPD?” Zero says with feeling. He doesn’t know what’s more surprising: that there are humans bold enough to go after X or that former law enforcers are involved.
“We found out from pure dumb luck." Sigma's brows furrowed, plainly displeased with that. "One of Gradient’s friend happens to be an ACPD secretary and she recognized the photo when Gradient was looking at it. Even if we asked the ACPD for a match in their database, I highly doubt that they’d appreciate us accusing their own of stalking, ex-cop or not. We have a tentative relationship and I prefer to not make any waves.”
“Even though they may have ties to the Emerald Spears?” Zero says accusatory.
“We don’t look into their script, they won’t look into ours. After all, what if they find out about you?” Sigma retorts calmly.
Fair. The ACPD aren’t the only ones who have rust in their pipes.
Zero drops the topic. “So X is leaving the country for his safety.”
“He originally intended to leave anyway. OKVIA Labs invited X to be a keynote speaker for their panel at the World Expo. The Emerald Spears presumably have members from all over the globe and we don’t want to chance his safety.”
“Hence assigning me to his security.”
“It’s quite an honor. Guarding X is no small job. He’s arguably the most important person of the century and the centuries to come.”
“And you’re assigning me to his security,” Zero repeats.
“Do you have a concern?”
“I’m on probation. Why would you put me of all bots on this mission?” Zero asks bluntly.
“It’s precisely because you’re on probation. For one, if the mission goes smoothly, I’ll not only lift your probation, but I’ll also make sure that it never existed.”
Zero blinks. “Meaning…”
“I’ll personally prepare the documents to have you registered into Abel City’s RCD. Your history? At best, a rumor, but there won’t be anything conclusive. We’ll jot you down as some generic model series like a Syno installed with extensive customizations. No one will look twice if it's from me.”
Sigma’s lips quirk at the corner. “The ACPD aren’t the only ones who can tweak a couple records.”
Which means…not only will Zero become an officially registered reploid, everything about Gamma’s Unit will be gone.
Ever since Zero joined the Hunters, Sigma had never told anyone where he found him. There were only two other functioning Hunters involved with Zero’s discovery and they’re ordered to never share a word of it. From sheer loyalty, they’ve obeyed, but their silence didn’t slow down any rumors, which Sigma never discouraged. Sigma is perfectly aware of the quiet demands for Zero’s background to be investigated yet never answered them.
Zero expected that it was going to be held over his head and this…this doesn’t look like that.
The warbot scowls in the same way an archaeologist would see a lone, hulking jewel sitting in the middle of a room. There must be more to this than just guarding X based on some theoretical risk. It’s too much reward for something so seemingly easy.
“Asides from the usual, what other risks should I be expecting,” Zero exvents,” Sir.”
“Zero, let’s say you come across a deer missing two legs, bleeding to death. Would you attempt to save it or put it out of its misery?”
Taken aback at the drastic topic change, the warbot warily replies,” I’ll put it out of its misery.”
It’s not like he can save it anyway. He’s no Lifesaver.
“And if it were a human?”
The Commander smiles thinly at Zero’s resulting silence. “You don’t need to answer. Personally, if I were to sustain a crippling injury – for example, an irreparable blow to the processor - I rather be terminated than go on as a defective. I can’t think of anything more humiliating and disgraceful to an advanced robot.
“The unfortunate reality is that such robots exist all over the world. No android template is as sophisticated as Cain Labs’ reploid blueprints, but it doesn’t stop the more…inferior roboticists to make an attempt. They never asked to be made...faulty.”
The deliberate look-over Sigma gives Zero is hard to miss.
The warbot doesn’t do so much as twitch.
“So far, Abel City is the sole producer of reploids and X is contemplating to change that. If he finds the rest of the world deserving of reploids, I’ll trust his judgement. However…”
Sigma’s demeanor darkens. “In the worst-case scenario, your duty is to make sure that the reploid template doesn’t fall in the wrong hands. And I don’t mean X.”
Oh. Now it all makes sense.
“Who else is assigned?” asks Zero. He’s calmer now that he has a better understanding of the potential consequences if worst comes to shove.
“Mac and Toran will be with you. Keep in mind that if anything happens, it is expected that you rise to the call. It’s the least you can do for the Hunters. We kindly took you in after all.”
The Red Ripper nods stiltedly. “Understood.”
Sigma’s marble eyes for optics curve upwards into scythes.
Watch your step, they say.
You don’t know what I can do, thinks Zero.
Sigma didn’t beat him. Sigma survived him.
But this shaky alliance with the Hunters benefits him so he can go along with this. No matter what happens, Zero will survive.
Every bot in Abel City knows who X is.
That monosyllabic name inevitably rises in heated discussions in the canteen, that iconic azure armor popping up in passing on television screens and datapads. X is the walking, talking connection between the Golden Age of Robotics and the twenty-second century, a plethora of knowledge who holds his own against condescending politicians and talk show hosts alike. Despite not fitting what constitutes as a reploid, the First speaks on behalf of all intelligent and independent robots everywhere.
Which, considering how Cain Labs jealously keep its secrets, is really just Abel City.
The warbot senses X before he meets him.
It starts with Combat Mode alerting Zero of a formidable threat while the Hunters wait in the Cain Labs parking lot.
Zero digs his fingers into his palm, stopping them from turning into claws, irked because he has a perfectly usable saber on his back. Subroutine should be rewired to go for that instead.
The other two Hunters besides him aren’t reacting and seeing them talking idly keeps him composed. Mac and Toran fall silent when the door swing open, standing in attention as X comes out of the building. The blue robot waves genially while an equally blue luggage mech wheels behind him.
Zero blinks in soft surprise. His scanners are picking up high energy readings from X’s form. It seems X isn’t as vulnerable as he expected.
“Hello sir, I’m Mac. Seventeenth Unit, A-Rank,” the purple Hunter introduce himself, his visor glinting in the sunlight. “It’s an honor to be your executive protection agent. Everything you do for reploid and human relations is admirable.”
“Ah thank you, I do my best,” X says gratefully with a dip of his head.
“Toran,” the orange, thickly armored Hunter nods. “Eighth Unit, A-Rank. I watch your talks.”
“Oh, I hope you enjoyed them,” X rubs the back of his head modestly.
“I do.”
Zero’s filtering subroutine must have decided to choose that time to disable itself because instead of saying his name, he asks, “Do you expect an attack?”
“...Excuse me?”
From Zero’s side, the other two Hunters are throwing gawking looks at his way. The First simply stands there, clearly waiting for him to elaborate.
“You have us, but you’re armed,” Zero says, hiding his uncertainty. Just to be sure, he manually scans X a second time to confirm what he already knows. X is indeed ostensibly armed.
“He’s new,” says Toran, shooting a sharp, quiet glare at Zero. “Doesn’t reflect Hunters.”
Zero frowns. That’s irrelevant. What does being 'new' have to do with this?
Waving it off in a “it’s alright” manner, X asks,” What’s your name?”
“Zero.” On record, no rank and no Unit. Not until he’s off probation.
“It’s nice to meet you, Zero. And as for your question, I like to think I’m only as dangerous as the next bot. Personally, I rather not enter any conflict though the security is necessary,” X motions vaguely at the Hunters.
“As the next bot? Whatever you have on you, it’s enough to take these two down easily,” Zero thumbs at Mac and Toran, to which they look at the red Hunter like he’s gone bolts. “If anything, they would need security to protect themselves from you.”
Which, now that Zero thinks more on it, X being at risk of a high-scale, premeditated assault is not an unlikely situation to consider when accounting his value.
Mac shuffles close to X and whispers into the First’s aural cone, cupping his mouth like that’ll dampen the volume. “Don’t mind him too much. Zero used to be…broken. The Commander found him in a scrap heap somewhere,” the red warbot overhears. “Medbay might have missed debugging a few glitches. Maybe you can look at him?”
Slag it all – Zero’s history doesn’t take away the fact that he’s one of the most highly capable combat models in Base. He knows what he’s talking about.
X twitches, the only sign that he listened because he doesn’t regale a proper response. Instead he deliberately walks in closer until he’s within close-quarter combat range from Zero. The First tilts his head in a curious manner, eyes boring into Zero’s own as if he’s searching something. Perhaps the missed “glitches,” the warbot thinks with some bitterness.
Then X’s eyes curve upwards into happy crescents with no signs of scorn or pity and Zero stares at that a little longer than he wants to.
“Anyhow, we better get going. Our flight will be taking off soon,” says X, walking past the Hunters towards the armored limousine. He tugs the trunk open and the stretches his arms out to his luggage mech, which rolls to him obediently. It happily beeps as X flips it sideways and tucks it into the truck bed. “Though it’s a short trip, I thank you all for joining me. Let’s exchange comm sequences on the way to the airport.”
X raises a hand towards the door handle, but Mac is already opening it for him.
The ride to the airport was short and silent and they arrive fifteen minutes before the departure time. They wait in a small, cushy lounge away from the public part of the airport where a well-intentioned woman tried to serve refreshments, only to realize she doesn’t have any for reploids. A nameless man extracts them all from the resulting awkwardness and guides them through the airside zone. They climb into a small, private jet where every row is a two-seater. There were enough seats that every passenger could have their own row, which was the case until X plopped down next to Zero.
Zero gives the blue robot a look but doesn’t comment. The First is already resting his head against his hand, humming a soft tune. For someone who was stalked for the past week and in a reasonable amount of danger, he’s quite carefree. Probably because once they take off, the problem will be literally to far away to care.
A half an hour after takeoff, X suddenly says, “We all have cognitive biases.”
Zero, who had his eyes closed, turns to X, attentive.
“It’s neither good nor bad,” X continues at a volume where it’s clearly meant for only Zero to hear. “It’s only natural that our preset drives and databases help inform us of the reality we perceive. For example, as an advanced robot I see bread as an organic sustenance that I cannot benefit from. But to a pigeon that doesn’t know any better, the bread thrown in its path is seen as vital fuel even though it carries no nutritional value to them simply because it is edible.”
“It’s an animal,” Zero contributes, mildly curious where the First is going with all this.
X gazes out the window. “It is and so are humans. Their cognitive biases can be so complex that I notice reploids have trouble following them. Zero, when a human looks at you, what do you think they perceive?”
Zero frowns. Wondering what goes in humans’ heads isn’t something he indulges in his spare time.
“A Hunter,” he answers.
“Someone who lives in Abel City would,” agrees X. “They would see your armor, the sword on your back, and the Maverick Hunter insignia on your armor. But if they weren’t from Abel?”
“A reploid.”
“And what if they didn’t know what a reploid was?”
“A humanoid robot.”
A soft noise escapes X. “Can you at least indulge me?” he says with some exasperation though his eyes reveal his amusement. “You could have said something like a soldier.”
“Do I look like a soldier?” Zero asks with a raised brow. He hopes not.
“Not really. You’re flashier than that,” X admits with a smile. “But someone else might. There are people out there who haven’t seen an android in their entire lives. It’s very possible that one of those people would see you, your weapons and armor, and think you’re a soldier.”
“If there are soldiers out there that look like me, that’s the real international concern,” Zero scoffs.
“Well, as we both know, you’re not a soldier, but other people may not know that. If they don’t have all the facts at hand, they will rely on their previous experiences to fill in the blanks. Once someone has it in their head that you are a soldier, depending on their individual experiences with soldiers, they’ll judge and treat you based on that. They may see you as someone respectable and honorable or they may find you deplorable.”
“What you’re saying is that people can come up with an entirely false version of me in their heads if they don’t know any better.”
Since there are numerous Hunters who expect him to go berserk at any given moment, that explains plenty.
“It happens. It’s an inevitable effect we all experience,” X chuckles. “There’s another form of cognitive bias call the halo effect. It refers to the tendency of creating an overall, positive judgment of a person or object influenced by a single positive trait. An example of this would be a person who’s considered attractive would also be viewed as intelligent, kind, and funny.”
Zero struggles wrapping his mind around that confounding logic leap.
He shortly gives up. “That doesn’t make any sense. How does being attractive have any direct correlation with intelligence?”
“I have no idea. I have trouble with the concept of beauty as well. Now that’s arbitrary,” X snickers.
Well. If someone like X doesn’t get it, there’s no way Zero will.
“Because people’s perceptions are so subjective, it’s not easy for anyone to wholly control how someone else can see them,” X goes on. “After all, we’re not even including other factors like religions, cultures, and ethnicities into it. We can only narrow down the variability by modifying how we act and appear to others.”
“That sounds like too much trouble. If someone formulated an inaccurate profile on me, that’s an error on their part.”
Although to be fair, Zero hasn’t discourage it. He hasn’t revealed all of his abilities either.
“It happens to the best of us. It’s rare to pin down someone’s nature from first meetings alone. We can know someone for our entire life and still not know everything about them.”
Zero makes a face. “Then that means you never really knew them.”
“Maybe. I like to think it’s because we’re that complex. As individuals, we are the culmination of our nature and nurture. We’re each our little worlds of experiences, and when we interact each other like this, it’s like we’re exploring each other’s worlds. I find that exciting.”
Gradually, X’s voice was dropping until it’s become a low hush as if he’s sharing a secret, staring at something unknown beyond his feet as if he can see what’s happening below the jet. Without realizing it, Zero has been gradually leaning in like he’s being pulled into an orbit. Raising his hearing sensitivity never dawn to him.
“Is there a reason you’re telling me all this?” Zero manages.
After a minute ticks away, X answers. “I was going to say that I just wanted to talk, but that’s not quite true. I want to know you better. It’s funny…despite what I said, you give me the feeling like you know exactly what I am, first meetings and cognitive biases aside. That’s not fair. I only got to know you today.”
Now it’s X who’s leaning in, coming in close enough that Zero wants to back away, but he’s pinned in place by this bizarre energy.
“I’d like to know more about you, Zero.”
Before the warbot can say anything more, the speakers crackle into life and the pilots announce to hook on their seatbelts, the jet is preparing to land. X draws away to sit fully in his own seat as the pilots drone on about the time, the weather, and Capai Union’s tourist attractions.
Zero realizes they talked the entire trip away.
“When I called, I was told that these papers were acceptable in lieu of a passport,” tells X.
“Whoever told you was wrong I’m afraid,” the hotel clerk replies with impersonal cheerfulness.
“I never had trouble checking in anywhere else.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Not,” Toran huffs under his exvent. Mac clasps the side of his helmet and Zero looks blandly on at the bellboy. The human keeps sneaking conspicuous glances at the Hunters in the lobby. The fully armored Hunters are out of place among the short sleeves and flip flops guests were sporting.
Mid-argument with the clerk, X is tapping the side of his helmet, interrupted by a call. He steps away from the counter to take it.
“Yes, we just arrived, I was talking to the front desk…an issue did come up. I was going to give a call to Dr. Cain…no, they wouldn’t have them, but I did bring recharge pads. They’re something we've been working on – huh? There’s four of us…wait, you don’t need to!” X’s voice raises suddenly. “You don’t need to, I wouldn’t want to impose – oh, you already called?”
Throughout the call, X displays a flurry of different emotions before it settles on resigned acceptance.
“Thank you, that’s very kind of you…yes, see you soon.”
“It seems that OKVIA Labs is providing lodgings for us,” X explains later with a wan smile.
"If that's the case, why didn't they say that earlier?" Mac sighs quietly, not expecting an answer.
A taxi van picks them up and takes them to OKVIA’s corporate office, a 23,000 square meter triangular building right off the expressway. It has oversized platforms instead of stairways, the floors and walls are pristine white, and the sculptural roof over vaulted ceilings let in ample skylight. It’s appropriately spacious for the thousands of people who mill in and out of it. The workday has ended and there’s less people remaining.
But the ones here in their immediate company are so…much.
“I’m so sorry that you went through that experience,” says a human in polo shirt and slacks. The ID around her neck says Riana Vo. “You could see it as a blessing in disguise. You can try our newest recharge tubes. We streamlined the design, made it lighter. We’re always geared towards energy sustainability.”
“Yes, yes, try our recharge tubes! Try anything you like if it catches your eye. Ah, it’s such a pleasure to have you here - the videos don’t do you justice, X!” the suited man by X’s side chuckles. “Is this your first time to Capai Union?"
“It is, Mr. Ali,” X replies amicably. “I’m afraid I haven’t seen much of the world. Only Abel City has the accommodations for reploids, which is why I sincerely appreciate your company’s efforts to provide for us.”
“You’re too kind! And far too formal. You sound like Alhaya! Please, call me Salman.”
“Salman it is then. And who is Alhaya?”
“She’s one of our AI humanoid robots, but she’s not as sophisticated as you. Even your stoic friends back there show more personality than she does!” Salman remarks over his shoulder to the Hunters.
“I see...well, I can’t wait to meet her. I’m sure Dr. Cain would have loved to meet her as well.”
“Ah yes, Dr. Cain. Shame that he couldn’t make it, but that means you’ll need to enjoy yourself twice as much on his behalf, X!” Salman claps X’s back familiarly then pauses. He doesn’t take back his hand. “Was that my imagination or did that give a bit? Fascinating, what kind of alloy is this?”
The man proceeds to prod X’s upper back, exploring the First’s shoulder pads and arms with his hand. X bears it all with the patience of an old dog.
Zero notices Mac and Toran sharing uncertain glances. They’re eyeing the human guards, watching and taking after their example, which is to stand by idly.
He understands. To combatdroids, humans are unbearably fragile. Zero can easily break a human with a careless swipe. Within Abel City, humans are walking lawsuits but outside of Abel…
There’s a reason Sigma assigned him for contingency.
Still, Zero prefers if he were dealing with the Emerald Spears than this. Currently he’s stomping down the urge to seize Salman’s wrist and snap it backwards. The casual tactility is patronizing and just watching it rankles the desire to forcibly re-balance the tipping power dynamic. It ameliorates just barely when X twists his body to face the man that Salman’s hand comes off, X moving in the subtle, avoidant action under the guise of giving the human his full attention.
“Lightweight with some conditioning. That’s all I know. I’m afraid I don’t know what it is. It’s something Dr. Light personally manufactured.”
“Ah, Dr. Cain couldn’t find out either? That’s no surprise. I heard he found you in a paleoethnobotanical trip. Who knew that archaeology could still be useful at this day and age? Just when we think we found everything worthwhile, we find you!” Mr. Ali laughs boisterously, hand reaching out to pat X, who couldn’t avoid it this time. “But, archaeology can’t inform robotics. They’re simply too different from each other. No amount of digging would have helped us make Alhaya.”
“If you like, we can try finding out what the metal is?” another developer chimes in. “You must be curious to know more about yourself and your creator…”
“Maybe another day? I’m a quite tired from the flight,” X declines.
For some reason, that makes the developer become more excited. “I read the paper by Dr. Khayyam, one of the reploid development team programmers, and he described how in one test you went on weeks without defrag, but you still functioned properly. The downside was that you stopped encoding inputs into long-term memory, but we’re experimenting a – “
Zero makes a blatant show to step in between the developer and X, whispering, ”Don’t forget, we have to talk to Sigma soon. We need to account the time zone.”
Privately, the red Hunter messages, “Act along so we can get out.”
Shoulders deflating in gratitude, X speaks out loudly, “That’s right, thank you for reminding me, Zero.” To the OKVIA staff, he says, “If there’s no pressing matters to attend to, will you be so kind to show us our rooms now?”
It takes a second for Riana to realize she’s the one being addressed. “Oh, certainly,” she jolts, embarrassed. “We prepared a couple on the seventh floor…”
Sleeping in your work building. Not dissimilar to reploids.
They’re given two rooms, each with two recharge tubes. For all the earlier talk of design improvement, the tubes are still bulky with streams of wires barely held down with coaxial cable nail-ins and zipties from the backs. There’s enough space to walk around without hassle, but not much for anything else.
“X, do you have a room preference?” Mac asks.
The First pulls away from studying over one recharge tube. “I’ll be taking none. I won’t be sleeping here.”
“No sleep?” asks Toran.
“I will be sleeping, but I won’t use a tube. I brought a prototype recharge pad and I do want to test it,” the Cain Labs assistant explains.
Signaling silently, he glances at his dutiful carrier mech and it unclicks itself. A tightly packed blanket puffs out from the pressure.
“It’s a device that we've been working on to help reploids travel more freely by making recharge portable. Since there’s not much space on the floor to test it here, I’ll find another room,” X remarks, looking at the floor pointedly. “We passed the nap room on our way here. I’ll use one of the pods.”
Mac’s mouth curls back in a cringe. “Are you sure? Sleeping in a lounge room seems...” he struggles briefly for the right word. “Uncomfortable.”
“I don’t need a cushy pillow to sleep well. I’m like any robot.”
“But you’re not just any bot! You’re…”
X tilts his head innocently. “I’m?”
Fritz, just because X is the First, doesn’t mean they can’t call him out when he’s acting deliberately obtuse.
Flatly, Zero quips, “You’re high profile and worth abducting. Sigma assigned you three guards for a reason. Even he wouldn’t do that for himself.” Since at most Sigma would take only Velguarder with him. “It doesn’t matter if you think nothing will happen to you here. You can’t ever be too careful.”
“I see. What you’re basically saying is that you can’t leave me alone.”
“Correct,” Zero replies with narrowed eyes, daring X to argue.
“Then you just have to come with me. Problem solved,” X says smoothly, stuffing a pad into Zero’s lax arms. “I brought enough for all of us, but I wouldn’t force anyone to volunteer to use them when there’s a perfectly usable recharge tube here. That’s why I’m so glad that you’re willing to test one with me. Thank you, Zero.”
Wait. What.
“Can test too,” provides Toran a second later.
“What would be immensely helpful is for you two to try OKVIA’s recharge tubes and see how they compare to the ones you have back in Abel City,” X directs to Mac and Toran.
Suddenly, the X's eyes widen. He shrinks back, his posture cast in shame. “Ah, I’m sorry. I’m getting ahead of myself. You may be my guards, but I shouldn’t impose you two the trouble of aiding me in my inspection…” he trails off demurely.
“Sleeping in a recharge tube isn’t any trouble though?” Mac says, utterly confused.
In an emotional whiplash, X beams instantly. “Thank you! You’re also helping me very much and I’m grateful. Have a good night, you two. Come, Zero.”
X abruptly strides away without waiting for another word, almost in a rush. Zero glances back and forth between X’s back and the two dumbly staring Hunters, all having an inkling that they’ve been played but now knowing for what and why.
With an exvent, Zero strides quickly to catch up to X.
They’re at a safe distance away when X openly sighs,” At least it’s only one night here. I hope it gets easier when we go to the convention.”
“I’m assuming you don’t mean the lodging,” says Zero slowly.
“That’s a part of it, actually. The tubes have scanners in them. I don’t appreciate the breach of privacy.”
The warbot whirls instantly, “Why didn’t you tell us this earlier?”
“It wouldn’t change anything. Also, I rather not incite any paranoia especially Mac’s. He strikes me as the anxious type…”
“That’s not important. It’s no secret that OKVIA wants the reploid blueprint and you’re just handing it over?”
Worse, if Zero didn’t come along, it could have been his build being scanned. Who knows how they’d react if they knew what Zero was capable of?
“They won’t learn anything new. Though they had some upgrades and customizations, I recognize Mac and Toran’s models. Their builds are like basic humanoid constructions asides a few key design differences in the processor, neural network hardware, and the coding. Their scanners wouldn’t pick up what all the major robot manufacturers don’t know already.” X throws his head back with a drawn-out sigh. “The scanners were meant for me.”
“What would you have that they wouldn’t? They’re reploids. Their builds are based on yours.” As soon as Zero said those words, he answers himself, realizing,” Your arsenal. They may be reploids, but they’re modified civilian models. You’re not.”
Because X, the first independent thinking and feeling robot, is a combat android. Zero’s not the only one with weapons worth studying.
“You catch on fast. If there’s a build worth studying, it’s yours.”
“Mine?”
“Yup. I keep a close eye on the reploid lines but even I don’t recognize…”
Abruptly, X cuts himself off, face unreadable. He’s staring at Zero in a new light, as if the warbot is something akin to wonder.
Zero stills. It can’t be. Is it possible that X knows…?
X glances away first. “I – sorry, I had a strange thought, but it’s unimportant. Anyways, to answer your question: yes, I do have something marketable to the military. This is neither the first time nor will it be the last a company tried to take it, but it won’t be today.”
It’s such an obvious dodge but Zero takes it, secretly grateful that the conversation turns away from anything too prying.
The topic becomes irrelevant when they finally find OKVIA’s nap area. It’s full of office nap pods, systematically lined up like hospital cots in a colorful lounge that wouldn’t look out of place from a café.
X rolls out the recharge pad over the pod bedding and climbs on. “I charged these before I left so you only need to turn on the control unit and lie down. It works via electromagnetic induction and it’s not as efficient as a tube. Hopefully, they can provide the necessary recharge.”
“That’s what testing is for,” replies Zero simply.
X grins, “Indeed. Good night, Zero,” and enters sleep mode.
Originally, Zero never planned to sleep so he turns on the pad, lies on it for ten minutes to see how it’s like, and is pleasantly surprised that it incrementally fills his energy tanks. However, it doesn’t aid in defragmentation, compaction or long-term data encoding, which are the main reasons for sleeping than downing an E-Tank in the first place.
Zero concludes he can forgo all that for the night. Knowing that OKVIA Labs snuck in scanners in the recharge tubes wants him to lean on side of caution.
The way X sleeps is different from reploids, Zero discovers. It’s subtle because of the armor, but X’s chest rises and falls in mimicry of human breathing, his social affectation subroutines working tirelessly through defrag.
Strangely, the combatdroid finds it interesting. He rotates between the tedious task of manually allocating today’s newly encoded information into already existing archives and watching X.
In the next couple of hours, several exhausted salary workers stumble in, give Zero a “what even” look before realizing they’re too overworked to care. They take their naps, leave, and the janitor sweeps in hours later, wide awake and yet refreshingly indifferent to the guests. Zero engages a minor altercation with the security guard making rounds much later, which resolved swiftly by a quick confirmation that yes, X and the Hunters are meant to be here for the night, dismissed.
Overall, nothing drastic occurs. The following morning X wakes up, asks the warbot a couple questions regarding the recharge pad, and they get ready to set off for Udara Pulau.
“I’m an old bot, Salman,” X says self-deprecatingly, rubbing the back of his head in a sheepish manner. “I have cloggy vents and my tighteners don’t track straight with my belts. There’s nothing wrong with the tubes – both Toran and Mac slept in them just fine. They’re practically newly-activated compare to me. Fresh off the conveyor line. I’m simply so old that I’ll overheat with the way they’re angled. I hope you understand.”
Zero has heard a lot of scrap back in Base and what X just said tops all of it. He forces down an uncharacteristic laugh.
Not knowing any better, let alone the reploid slang, the human goes along cheerfully. “I see, I see! Humans or robots, we’re all weak to time! I’ll let our developers know that it’s not friendly to ol – I mean, earlier models,” he elbows X with a wink. “You may call yourself old, but perhaps there’s other reploids who aren’t fond of it! My sister hates being reminded of her age.”
“Don’t worry too much about it. It may be just me. After all, a century of sleep really builds up the dust.”
“That sounds like a concern. Have you ever considered getting that checked out?” Riana jumps in.
Mac sits between Zero and Toran yet Zero can hear Toran grumbles,” Too much,” a mere decibel above the shuttle’s background humming.
“You think this is bad? There’s only five of them now. The expo is going to be bolts,” says Mac, his voice carrying a nervous titter. “If we’re lucky, there’ll be a low turnout at the panel.”
“Unlikely.”
“Yeah. X’s a big name, why else would we be here.” Mac stretches his arms out and crosses them behind his head, acting more casual than he really is. “Not going to lie, I couldn't sleep well last night so I'm going to power down a bit. Poke me when we’re close to landing.”
The shuttle rumbles. The pilot announces through the intercom to put on the seatbelts, there’ll be some turbulence. Zero fingers at the already fastened strap, unconvinced. They’re three thousand meters in the air and climbing. The temperature at this altitude ranges between negative fifteen to twenty-four degrees Celsius. If Zero changes form, he can survive the fall if the shuttle breaks by flying to safety. Everyone else is on their own.
(Except maybe X. Maybe he can be trusted.)
Zero’s gyroscopic stabilizers adjust to the dropping altitude. The shuttle dips below the clouds, revealing an enormous, domed sky town. The dome is tinted and Zero can’t observe what’s on the other side. In the distance, multiple lines of public shuttles and powered lifts are trickling in and out of the floating island, managed by bright red, air traffic mechaniloids resistant to the chill.
More waiting. Escort missions always have too much waiting. At least X is interesting – if he wasn’t, Zero would be rusting from the inaction.
Speaking of…
Zero turns his attention away from the window and towards the blue bot at the other end of the shuttle, who’s more sandwiched by his current company than before.
“ – cities like Sky Lagoon were an engineering marvel, but now it’s last decade,” Riana contributes lightly.
“I still find floating cities exciting,” says X. “To create super-conducting discs and magnet arrays at such scale is nothing short of amazing. To me at least.”
“You get used to them, but they do have a good view!” Salman chuckles. “Still, they take too damn long to make. Asiope leads in quantum engineering, and yet it can’t figure out how to streamline the application to massive constructions. It wouldn’t be an issue if you have a bunch of robots to handle the heavy lifting.”
“You make it sound like Asiope doesn’t have any advanced robots,” says X, his smile a bit too wide and tight around the edges.
“Oh of course we have mechs and they can make a building for you, but you still need to keep an eye on them. You can’t teach them to do the engineering. The Robot Masters from before weren’t any better either.”
“That’s quite the statement. Robot Masters were also advanced – “
“Yes, yes, they could think and plan independently,” Salman interrupts with a wave of his hand, “Until some fourteen-year old troll from Sovsia hacks it…”
“Mechaniloids can be hacked as well. It boggles me how much robotics evolved in the previous century, but cybersecurity lagged so far behind!” a programmer cries.
“That’s the difference between a tool and an asset. If your hammer can pound in all the nails and no one can hack it to pound you, it’s the best of everything.”
“Like a reploid.”
Everyone murmurs agreements while X sits there, being awfully still. Not particularly special for a robot, but on X it looks like a signal. A silent SOS.
The next thing Zero knows, his legs are moving and he’s standing in front of the blue robot, capturing the group’s attention.
“Is something the matter, Zero?” asks X.
“I’m not sure. My suffering circuit seems to be acting up,” Zero says drily. “It’s assigning specific organic entities to be mets when visual inputs declare otherwise. I require your expertise to fix it.”
X coughs into a fist while the humans stare at the red Hunter in confusion. “Sure, I can do that,” X manages. “Let’s go where there’s more space. Please excuse me.”
“What’s a met?” Zero hears behind him as they stride to the back.
“No idea, but see what I mean? He thinks something’s wrong with him and he’s fixing it! That’s agency. A mech wouldn’t be able to tell you if it’s broken…”
Toran aims an unimpressed look at the red Hunter to which he ignores.
“Suffering circuit acting up, huh,” X smiles crookedly. “You didn’t need to do that, but I appreciate it. Did I look uncomfortable?”
“You looked like you needed extraction,” admits Zero.
“Oof, so I was that obvious…I hope the others didn’t notice it as well as you did.”
Despite defragging last night, X has a tired line across his shoulders, a dejected air surrounding him. It has the warbot asking, “What do you want from them?”
“What do I want…?” X stares.
“Commander Sigma told me there are two reasons you’re on this trip. The first is to keep you away from Abel City temporarily for your safety. The second is so you can see if…the rest of the world is ready for reploids,” he voices almost like a question.
Zero motions at the humans with a slight flick of his head. “Where do they come in? As far as I’m concerned, these people want something from you. What do they have that you’re willing to put up with them?”
“You make them sound so bad,” X smiles weakly.
“You mean they’re not? They’re downright obnoxious,” Zero huffs flippantly.
X shrugs philosophically. “I don’t blame you for seeing it that way. Also, can you face towards me and bend your head down? I’m supposed to be checking your ‘suffering circuit’ after all.”
Stiffly, Zero obeys, twisting his upper body and lowering his neck. He’s not fond of this posture. His view vanishes for his lap and seat – an uninformative and unproductive sight. His back of his neck, rarely exposed, is bare.
X’s hand hovers above his ponytail before descending slowly to the sides of his helmet, right above his aural cones. The touch is gentle and if Zero was the type to flinch, he would have jumped when he hears X speak right next to him, as close as a thought.
“Would you believe me if I say this is an improvement?” says X, hushed and yet his voice is the only sound here, the shuttle held in a vacuum. “When I woke up, it was worse.”
Head kept still, Zero looks up to viridian eyes beneath the V of his helmet.
“No one knew what to make of me,” X continues, idly examining Zero’s helmet, fingers tracing obscure lines. “I was both ancient and advanced. I can think, feel, and make my own choices like a human, but I’m not a human. It’s an understatement to say that I received…interesting reactions when Dr. Cain brought me into the city.”
“Good interesting…or bad interesting?” asks Zero meaningfully, too used to Sigma’s doublespeak to not catch that.
With everything X said about cognitive biases and quick, uninformed judgments, Zero has a picture.
X’s face flashes with an unreadable emotion before he plasters on a politician’s smile. Innocuous and utterly fake.
“I didn’t know there’s a difference,” the blue robot replies on the side of too polite and for some reason it compels the former Maverick to snap his head up and out of the other’s grasp like an attack.
In the most unimpressed voice he didn’t know he could muster, Zero deadpans, “Unless you categorize being revered as the Father of All Reploids the same as being stalked by technology terrorists who want to kill you , then yes. There’s a difference. You have so much knowledge and power - so why are you acting so stupid?”
Because of the close proximity, Zero witnesses X’s burst of stunned laughter, the scene slapping him like an electric shock. In the back of his head, he’s vaguely aware that other people are watching them – Toran sitting up straight with wide eyes, Mac jolting as he comes out of low-power mode and the humans – they’re not subtle at all. They’re openly marveling at how X’s face is flushed red, the corners of his eyes wet.
And yet Zero’s mind is distant. Everything feels far away compare to X’s vibrancy.
Completely relaxed and horribly oblivious that he wracked Zero’s processor, X rolls his eyes teasingly. “You’re so rude,” he says casually. He sounds so fond.
Zero is a massacrist. It doesn’t matter that he slaughtered Gamma’s Unit while he was malfunctioning because it’s in his nature. If anything, easily wiping out an entire squad of Hunters without changing form validates what he’s designed to be.
A killer.
No one is fond of a killer.
Zero’s core feels less of a hunk of metal and more of a twisted bundle of wires, tangled and demands to be straightened out.
He gets an opportunity to keep his emotions in check when the shuttle arrives to the toll gate. X leaves with a smile and rejoins OKVIA's people, who are readying their passports and paperwork. Thankfully leaving Zero alone with his inner turmoil.
Zero thinks, with no small amount of dismay, that over the course of the mission it won’t be sinister businessmen crossing out of line, potential terrorists, or sabotage that’ll push him over the edge. It’s going to be X.
It’s been only twenty-four hours.
He's screwed.