Chapter Text
It was nearly noon in my office. I had reports to finish, evaluations to grade, and trainees to pass. TC01-9A sat on the floor in the center of my tiny office with my daughter. It allowed her to toy with its fingers. She was endlessly amused by its knuckle joints.
“You have an urgent meeting with Technician 3310474 in 15 minutes.” 9A announced.
Aria, my daughter, looked up. “Momma?” She said.
“Yes, love, momma.” I took a look at my last trainee report. I only had a few more lines. “I’ll leave in a few minutes.”
“Technician 3310474 will not be pleased.”
“She’ll be fine.” I insisted. “It’s not like she’ll bite my head off.”
“I am not convinced.” My report closed on its own. “Goodbye.”
I sighed. “You’re an asshole.”
My darling baby girl, who, at nearly 2 years old, was still trying to master her own mouth, smiled a crooked little smile and shouted, “Asshole!”
9A looked up at me and blinked slowly, something of a grin, I think.
“Fine.” I stood up and stretched my arms above my head. “You’ve got her?”
“Yes. Enjoy your lunch.”
"Affirmative." I gave a playful salute before ducking through my office door.
I told Stark the story over our empty trays. We would’ve gone somewhere fancier than the training center mess hall, maybe, but the mess hall was included in our contract and we needed every cent. The prying eyes of the student body was a small price to pay.
Stark leaned over the table, laughing into her hands. “At least I didn’t teach her that one!”
“No.” I rested my hand on the back of her neck. “Just every other profanity she knows.”
Stark snorted again and shook my hand off. She said something else, but my vision focused on a new feed message.
424F4F4D, from 9A. It was as close to a raw SecUnit code as an augmented human could process.
SecUnits didn’t send raw codes to humans. That was slow and cumbersome and something that 9A complained about often. I scrambled to look it up and froze on the data page.
“Griffin?” Stark put her hand over mine. I was standing. When did I stand up? “What is it?”
“There’s a bomb.”
Stark had enough time to ask what I meant before the floor of the cafeteria shook so hard it nearly dumped her out of her chair. I grabbed the edge of the wobbly table to stay upright. A nearby tray clattered to the floor.
Stark and I stared at each other as the ground stilled. Quietly, she asked, “9A?”
I tapped it. An error returned. It was offline. Gone. Out of network.
I shook my head.
Stark took a long, deep breath. In through her nose. Out through her teeth. “It has Aria, doesn’t it?”
I nodded. I didn’t wait for Stark to stand up. I just started running.