Chapter Text
"You did it!"
Rambley appeared on a nearby screen and yelled the words so suddenly Ed recoiled as if he'd been hit.
"You did it!" the cartoon raccoon repeated. "You're safe, buddy. Oh my. Of course I knew you'd get through, but it's such a relief to see it done."
Ed gasped for breath. Not only would Rambley not shut up for a second, but the last few minutes had really taken the last of his strength. The collapsed gantry now lay squished into the gooey remains, the twisted metal rocking back and forth slightly as the… thing… under it finally stopped moving.
Rambley peered out of the screen, and Ed noticed a security camera on the far wall rotate to survey the scene in more detail.
"Ew," Rambley said, sotto voce, his paws over his mouth. "That's… really nasty."
Ed turned away and stumbled through the nearest door into a short hallway. Anything to avoid looking at what they'd done for longer than necessary.
Rambley transferred to another screen high on the wall. "Hey buddy, are you okay? I'm certain that's the last one, I've checked on all the cameras I can find and I'm sure there aren't any more." The raccoon looked concerned. "You're safe now, I promise!"
Ed shuffled on, through the door beneath Rambley's image and into the large room where the ride's queueing space meandered back and forth. This time he didn't bother following the path, instead pushing the barriers aside to make a bee-line for the exit.
Rambley's worried face flashed up on a monitor by the doorway. He didn't speak this time, just watched Ed push the door open and sink to the ground in the pre-dawn air, shaking slightly.
Rambley moved to a nearby information kiosk. "Hey buddy, it'll be okay, really it will. It's done. That was the last of them. I know it hurts that you had to… get rid of them like that, but there really wasn't any other way. Keeping you safe is what matters. Yes, that's right, sit down for a bit, take a break! You've earned it. Oh! Oh! Remember to breathe!"
Ed gasped, realizing he'd barely been able to take a breath since that horrible, final, squelch. He coughed and sucked in a few lungfuls of fresh air, trying not to throw up. Slowly the nausea started to dissipate.
"Oh thank goodness", said Rambley, "are you back with me buddy? Feeling okay?"
Ed looked up at the screen.
"My facial tracking data says… you're gonna be okay." The raccoon smiled anxiously. "I sure hope it's right", he added quietly.
"You really did amazing though", Rambley continued. "I don't know how you kept going! I've had plenty of adventures with my friends Mollie and Finley, but… that was something else." Rambley's animation glitched and froze in place for a moment. When it resumed a few seconds later, the raccoon looked defeated. "That was an adventure I never want to have again", he said, quietly, and the screen went blank.
Ed lay on the paving for several minutes, getting his breath back. Weak daylight flooded in from the horizon, lighting up the wide, round courtyard outside Salem's Stakeout, which he could now see clearly for the first time. Something caught his eye — a Bird Up vending machine across the way that looked like it might actually still be working.
When he felt a bit more alive, he slowly picked himself up and made his way over to it. This machine was the right way up, unlike most of them, and it even sounded like its refrigeration was still working. He pushed the button, dug out a coin from his pocket and gulped down the beverage. It was surprisingly cool, but also stale and flat, several years past its expiry date. At this point he didn't care. It was liquid so it was fine.
He looked around again. A nearby shop window conveniently housed a display screen, so Ed moved over to it before waving at a nearby security camera.
"Hey bud!" cried Rambley, appearing on the screen. "You feeling any better now?"
Ed stared up at the camera.
"Oh my", said the raccoon. "I keep forgetting to remember things about humans. Like the way they need sleep! You're really tired, aren't you, friend? Oh goodness, you must be. You've been awake all night fighting my fights for me." Rambley looked guilty. "I've really taken advantage of you, haven't I? I don't know how I can make it up to you."
Rambley paused for a moment. "But I can help with one thing! Sleep! There are a few bunks in the backstage area. They never got much use but they were there so that Rambley's Ranglers could use them if they need. And you're a Rangler now, and you need! So let's go!"
Ed followed his cartoon guide's directions through an unobtrusive door in a corner of the courtyard and down some stairs into a hidden staff-only area of the park. It was quite a long walk through underground passageways but he eventually reached a door part way along a curved corridor.
"That's the one!" said Rambley from a screen at the far end of the corridor as Ed touched the door handle. "I don't know the layout in there so you'll have to find your own way. There aren't any security cameras in there of course — humans don't like cameras where they sleep, do they? — but I know there is a working PC with a webcam I can use in one of the rooms. See if you can find it?"
It turned out to be very easy to find. Behind the door was a small lobby with half a dozen little bedrooms off it, and from one of the doorways came the glow of PC screen, just as Rambley had promised. The webcam light above the monitor turned on as the raccoon jumped up and down on the screen.
"Oh, you made it! Well done, pal! I'm so glad I didn't lose you. And there ya go! One bed, all ready to sleep on."
Ed poked the bed gingerly. It looked okay, although the duvet was rumpled as if the bed hadn't been made since someone last used it. After being neglected for eight years, Ed decided, it wasn't at all ready to sleep on.
Rambley stayed on the screen as Ed scouted around the little room. As the raccoon watched, he found a fresh set of bedding, vaccuum-packed in a plastic bag and stuffed in a drawer under the bed. He laboriously stripped the old linen, leaving it in a pile on the floor, and replaced it with new.
Finally, Ed flopped onto the bed and sighed deeply — although maybe it was more of a groan than a sigh.
"You know", said Rambley, breaking the silence, "I love watching you. Oh wait, no, that sounds all wrong. Creepy even!"
Ed rolled over so he could look at the PC screen. The raccoon was sitting at the bottom of the monitor, legs crossed.
"I mean", continued Rambley, "I don't know much about humans really. Until you arrived I hadn't seen one since the park was evacuated, and even before that most of the humans I saw were either just staring at my screens or not interested in me at all. So as you can imagine, I never got to know anyone. Apart from my pals, of course! Mollie is so much fun to be with!"
Rambley sighed. "Watching you doing your normal human things, getting your bed ready… it just reminded me how little I know about you guys. You're my friend now, and I wish I knew more about you, about humans in general. But I've been on my own here for so long.
"Did you know", the raccoon continued after a beat, "that I'm the twenty-seventh version of me?" The cartoon character smiled to himself. He was staring at his feet while he spoke, instead of looking out of the screen like he usually did.
"The first versions were a really long time ago. I've seen the clips. I was on VHS back then, haha! I was animated by hand and recorded onto film, frame by frame. They added a voice and copied me onto tape to play back on the rides. Tape has no memory, so of course I don't remember that. And I said exactly the same thing, in exactly the same way, every single time, can you believe that? I must have looked such an idiot."
Rambley played with the tip of his tail as he remembered. "It wasn't until version twenty-five that I really became aware, with real memories. Oh, I remember stuff from before that — my engineers put a lot of things in there for me so I wouldn't have to start from scratch. But twenty-five is where I started making my own memories, for real.
"What's annoying, though," said Rambley, "is not being able to hear. Y'know? I don't know if you picked up on that, but I'm actually stone deaf." The raccoon shook his head with a lopsided grin. "You could have been chattering away to me the whole time you've been in the park and I wouldn't have a clue! Ha! Oh, I hope not, though… and I'm sorry if you were."
Rambley sighed again. "You see, when they built version twenty-five, the first proper AI version of me, they hooked me up to the security cameras around the park so I'd be able to see. But those cameras don't have sound! Without microphones, there wasn't an audio input for me. And without any sound to feed into me, they didn't give me any kind of audio processing ability. Nothing to use it for, see? Nothing to train it on. Later on there were webcams, like this one, and they do have microphones, but that doesn't help me because I just wasn't designed to hear. There's nowhere in my neural networks to input the sound signal. So many times I've wished my designers had dedicated just a bit of neural net space to lip-reading, but no, they didn't think of that either."
Rambley sat back, supporting himself with his paws on the ground behind him. He looked out of the screen again, and the little webcam light blinked on. "Hey ho. It is what it is, I guess. So many times I've wanted to know what people are saying, but what can you do? It's how I was made."
Ed nodded, eyes nearly shut.
"Aw", said Rambley, "you're so tired. And here I am, keeping you awake with my rambling. I'm sorry buddy, I'll shut up now. Tomorrow's another day, as they say! We'll find you something to eat, and if you like you can see more of the park before you go! Then you can get the word out that Indigo Park is safe again and everyone can… Oh gosh, I'm sorry, I'm rambling again. You get some sleep, pal."
Rambley thought for a moment. "Oh hey, humans need dark to sleep, don't they?"
As the raccoon spoke, the monitor faded until his outline was barely visible, leaving the room nearly dark.
"There ya go, does that help?" said Rambley in a low voice. "Get some rest, friend. I'll stay here with you."
Ed didn't even hear the end of the sentence. In the dark, exhaustion won.