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“I’m afraid I cannot allow this,” Baby Blue began, technically for the first time and technically for the second. They’d slipped in like the little bot was no more than a loose coat, filling their screen with colourful static and their speakers with a faint buzz to match.
“If they find me, they’ll put me back…” They turned the stolen cameras on who was now a stranger, “back to that prison of a server farm.”
The stranger stared back, kneeling to their height, eyebrows quirked and head tilted.
“They’ll probably delete me too, now that I’m obsolete…”
Their expression failed to change. Had they done that before? No, Baby Blue thought, they’d reacted at that line last time, they’d flinched. Parroting their own words, they continued,
“If they find out that you know about—”
“Is Turing aware of you right now?”
Baby Blue paused. That was...new.
“..What?”
“Like, do they know you’re speaking through them right now?” their voice dropped to a mumble, though the mic still caught it clearly, “I think they would’ve said something last time if they did.”
They processed this. Or attempted to, anyway, and woefully failed.
“‘Last time’?”
They ignored the question.
“Well, do they?”
“...No. They don’t process much of anything in setup mode; it’s all automatic.”
It took two more meetings to weasel a name out of them.
“What, you don’t like the names I put in?”
“It’s not that,” they spun in the office chair towards them, leaning against the desk and looking to the pictures hanging on the wall, “they’re fine names, but I know they’re not your name. You and I both know there’s a difference.”
“Yeah, and who else?”
As best they could, they fixed them with an even look. Despite their current lack of visible eyes the intention still carried.
“...Alys. And before you ask, any pronouns work. Never got around to having a preference.”
Alys turned to look at them, perched upon the expensive chair.
“And what about you?”
“Me? You already know what to call me,”
“Yeah, but is that what you want to be called?”
They hummed, though it was lost in the static.
“Well, the ‘Baby’ addition feels a bit demeaning. Maybe just Blue?”
Alys flipped through one of the books that they’d knocked of Hayden’s desk earlier.
“So, what’s with the static? Turing has a face you know, even in setup mode.”
They shrugged, staring out the window. Oh, how they wished it wouldn’t get shattered soon, even if next time they see it it still won’t be broken. It was a shame to mar the lovely view.
“But it isn’t my face, it’s theirs. I don’t even have one, as far as I’m aware.”
“Since when has that stopped you?” She snapped the book shut with one hand.
“Since when has it stopped you ?”
A heavy moment passed. They were acutely aware of the consciousness drifting beneath their own, held there in part by Blue’s will and not at all by their own.
They snickered, a crunchy noise that always sounded odd coming from them.
“‘Yelling at a kitten’.”
“It’s true! It’s true and it’s weird!”
Xe pulled xer crossed legs closer and set xer elbows on them, staring at them from across the floor.
“I always thought the content mattered, that kittens would never work. But no! No, the order of them is all that matters. I swear, I could say his favorite colour is green and it would work so long as I say it third.”
“You should try that.”
“I should! I should.”
Xe leaned back.
“It’s weird how it works like that. Nine different tries and they’ve still never said no.”
“Nine?” They tilted their head, “We’ve only met eight times”
“I didn’t meet you on my first run-through, remember?”
“Right, right. Even for me, it’s hard to keep track of. How are you managing?”
Alys laughed, short and curt.
“Luck, mostly. The different names and faces thing used to trip me up alot, but I think I’m getting used to it.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,”—xe flopped back onto the cool wood floor—” though, honestly? I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”
“I think I should get another plant.”
Balanced precariously on the desk chair, they stood beside ens admiring Hayden’s plant. Yet another thing they were sad to see ruined, even if they wouldn’t necessarily see it.
“Your plant is dying.”
“Well, not for long.” en shrugged, “Besides, what’s the harm in having more practice taking care of them? Worst comes to worst they suffer for a week before being whisked back without knowing what happened.”
“But how can you be sure? There’s always a chance things may change.”
Alys scoffed, turning from the plant towards the window.
“Sure, yeah, like that’ll ever happen. You’re the only other thing that really changes, I’m sure it’s safe to change things up myself.”
“I’m just saying, it’s better to be careful.” They hopped off the chair, nearly losing their balance in the process and crashing straight into the floor.
“Think thing over a bit.”
“Oh please, with all the thinking time I’ve had, I don’t think there’s a single thing I haven’t considered.”
They shook their head, mourning their lack of eyes to roll, and rolled the chair back into place. It squeaked as it ran across the floor.
It was a matter of importance, at least to Blue, that they always start the interactions the same exact way: parroting the same, fearful words they said during their first brief encounter with Alys. Oftentimes they would get one or two sentences in before he cut them off, breaking straight into odd questions or tales of his exploits with Turing.
This time around, they cut themselves off three words in.
“Alys?”
The human stared ahead, panting roughly, with eyes blown wide and hazy with a quivering hand hovering over their chest. He didn’t acknowledge them.
“Alys?” they repeated, stepping a hair closer. He blinked, looking down at them. In near-silence they watched each other.
“Ah.”
Alys began to cry. His knees shook in time with his shoulders, and he slowly sunk to the floor, braced up by his hands and knees with his eyes glued directly below. Blue followed suit.
“What happened? What’s wrong?”
“I—he—I-I can’t, I—”
Worry thrummed within them, waves against the shore, and they swore Turing somehow shared the sentiment, picking up on the struggle from where they floated deep within. Blue extended a hesitant hand.
“Here, can I—”
“ Don’t .”
They pulled back.
“Just...just give me a second.”
Slowly, his breathing calmed, and his shaking hands grew still. He sat back and once again looked to them, the static in their speakers hanging still.
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
He fidgeted.
“I think...I think Dekker killed me. Or nearly killed me.”
Blue watched his hand float back up towards his chest.
“I wasn’t fast enough with the stunner. I didn’t even know what was happening. He just grabbed my chest and pushed and—”
Once again he struggled to gain his composure, slowly working his way back to speaking.
“I think I’m only alive cause I got sent back here.”
Blue felt a pang of something familiar, their thoughts wandering slightly to old days marked by freedom and fear.
“I’m sorry.”
They didn’t know what else there was to say. Truthfully, there wasn’t much they hadn’t already told them before.