Chapter Text
"This isn't necessary…" he tries to object yet again, struggling to keep up with Stratt’s wide, firm strides.
She doesn’t even pretend to listen, swiftly walking ahead of him. Grace might have thought she was trying to run away from him or the conversation, but the problem was that he was the one who wanted to run. From the situation he found himself in, from the responsibility that had suddenly dropped on his shoulders.
There was already too much of it, and now...
"You have no say in this matter, Dr. Grace," comes the emotionless voice from up ahead, making Grace want to claw at his hair.
It wasn't quite clear, though, whether he wanted to claw at his own or hers.
"I don't need another bodyguard. Can't I just... not go anywhere? Order delivery?" he tries once more, nervously fidgeting with the sleeve of his sweater.
He still felt heavy and ashamed that Carl had been hurt because of him. No, technically, it wasn't Grace's fault, and besides, it was literally Carl's job, but that didn't lessen the vile feeling of helplessness and uselessness.
"This situation showed that there is a risk. And in our case, we cannot afford to take risks. You are too valuable an employee," Stratt measures him with a quick glance over her shoulder, and for some reason, coming from her lips, it doesn't sound like a compliment. "All you can do is accept it."
Grace sighs loudly, feeling his face grow warm with frustration, and nervously adjusts his glasses. He wasn't used to people risking their lives for him. Especially those for whom he wasn't exactly highly significant. The thought of Carl lying in a hospital right now with three stab wounds because of him still made him sick to his stomach.
Until the day before yesterday, he hadn't even suspected that opponents of the mission existed. It sounded downright unthinkable — how could anyone not want to save the planet? But, apparently, somehow they managed to. His and Carl's routine trip to the store was proof of that. Grace had only managed to open his mouth helplessly, like a fish washed ashore, while Carl subdued some fanatic who had lunged at him, frantically wielding a knife.
His stomach twists again at the phantom, raw smell of blood that had soaked through the sleeve of Carl's coat, and Grace swallows hard. Stratt leads him somewhere through long corridors, fueling his suspicions that, contrary to her own words, she is going to lock him away somewhere far and deep, just to absolutely eliminate all risks.
But very soon, the sound of functioning machinery drifts from somewhere ahead, and Grace realizes they have come out to the back part of the base, somewhere in the loading-unloading zone. He clenches his hands inside his pockets when Stratt opens the door to an office, looking at him expectantly, but he enters submissively, still not fully understanding the meaning of what is happening.
"In fact, you should be grateful to us, Dr. Grace," she says unperturbedly, walking in behind him. "One could say you cost us more than anyone else. Even astronaut training isn't as expensive as our work with you."
Grace flushes again, at a loss for words, but Eva doesn't give him a chance to speak.
"Initially, he was meant to be only your bodyguard, but the CyberLife R&D department agreed to customize the model 'for the sake of saving humanity,' so he will also perform the role of your double if necessary."
Eva looks at him from under her brow, and Grace even thinks he sees a hint of amusement in her gaze, but then she types something on her tablet, the door to the connecting room opens, and he freezes in place, staring dumbly at the man. At first, he thinks he's having a stroke or something; apparently, the articles weren't lying when they said that illnesses were getting younger. But then the puzzle pieces begin to come together in his head: the mention of CyberLife, the details of an appearance subtly differing from his own, the perfectly fitting uniform with a serial number...
Not that Grace hadn't encountered androids before. It was just that they weren't particularly common among his state yet; he had seen a few accompanying some important people... He wasn't too into robotics. Like yeah, he had attended a conference about five years ago where CyberLife first introduced its earliest models, but he hadn't followed their development much since then. Perhaps he should have...
"Wait, did you say 'customize'?" Grace swallows and averts his gaze, because the blue eyes are staring at him far too intently. "Meaning you allowed them to use my appearance to create an android?!"
Stratt only shrugs, having no intention of voicing the obvious.
Ryland Grace is horrified. No, of course, he is slightly flattered that a whole corporation created an entirely new skin just for him alone, but for the most part, he is horrified. He cautiously steps closer to the android, swallowing — that unblinking stare creates an uncanny valley effect. Absolutely creepy, considering that Grace had never once in his life had such an expressionless... expression on his face.
He stands opposite him, warily studying the android's appearance. Whoever designed this model definitely tried hard. Grace even notices a thin scar on the cheekbone beneath the light stubble, left behind from his very first shave. The only question is why they decided to keep his hair cut short... Perhaps they thought it would be easier that way.
He blinks, and the android blinks too. For the first time the entire meeting, and Grace flinches.
"Hi," he mumbles hesitantly, still feeling partially like he's in a high-fever dream. "I'm Grace."
He holds out his hand, feeling increasingly awkward with every subsequent second of silence, but then the android's gaze finally breaks away from his face, falling to the hand extended for a handshake. And he finally thaws.
"Good morning, Dr. Ryland Grace," a slightly cool palm, which immediately warms up a bit as if matching the temperature of his own hand, squeezes gently but briefly and lets go at once. "My name is KD6-3.7, the android sent by CyberLife..."
Grace waves his hands awkwardly, stopping him.
"No, no, just Grace. Nobody calls me Ryland, so... just Grace. And I don't think I can pronounce that serial number every time, so... How about "K"?.."
The LED on the android's temple blinks.
"Good morning, Grace. My name is K, the android sent by CyberLife..."
Despite himself, the man lets out a chuckle and immediately covers his mouth when K's temple LED blinks again.
"Right, I see the introduction went excellent," Eva closes her tablet case with a loud snap, reminding them of her presence, which makes Grace flinch involuntarily. "I assume you can figure things out on your own from here. The android is programmed with a bodyguard function, he will accompany you everywhere. You may also use him as an assistant — without abusing it, of course."
"Wait, 'everywhere' means even to the restroom?.." Grace asks dumbly and immediately cowers under her unimpressed look.
"If he deems that a trip to the restroom poses a threat to you, then there too," Eva hands him the tablet, pressing it against Grace's chest with a thud, making the man sway slightly as he automatically grabs hold of it.
The android's gaze becomes a bit more intent.
"There is information from CyberLife in the tablet, I advise you to familiarize yourself with it. Study the control section especially carefully — the android will execute your commands only if they do not conflict with his instructions."
With that, Stratt leaves them, leaving Grace alone with a new responsibility, because... Grace cannot imagine that it's the android who is supposed to be responsible for his safety, and not he for the android that has literally been given to him to use. It's almost like... a Tamagotchi, probably, just more advanced? And more expensive... Grace tries not to imagine how many organs he would have to sell if the android accidentally broke through his fault.
"Well... I suppose we can return to the lab?" he asks uncertainty, still clutching the tablet.
It is at this exact moment that Grace especially regrets having shown little interest in androids before. He has no idea how to behave or what to say, and in general, he is still in shock, and furthermore, he would dive right into all this information in the tablet this very second, without a moment's delay, if it weren't for the clatter of loading behind the walls.
Evidently, K is the one who knows what to do. He doesn't even hesitate after his words, but simply walks to the door, opening it and looking at the man expectantly. Well, Grace is left with no choice but to follow him.
***
The first time KD6-3.7 was activated was at a CyberLife factory. In fact, this was his very first memory — he could not see the people discussing things around him, but could only register their conversations. A post-assembly diagnostic of his systems was underway: data transmission from sensors across his chassis, mechanical performance, and software execution. It was right after this that they launched a check of his auditory systems, and finally, his vision. Not that it provided much, but now he was no longer confined to a vacuum. He was fixed in place so that only a high ceiling, rows of lights upon it, a few tall columns, and a section of a wall were visible, yet his algorithms still greedily latched onto the crumbs of available information. As different areas of his chassis were brought online, he began to feel his legs, his arms, his entire body as a whole. From somewhere came the realization that his central panel had been removed, though he could not see it, and his skin was absent. "Naked," an association surfaced, but it immediately drained through his temple into some external storage. He listened to conversations about his own status, analyzing the geometry of the room, its architectural nuances, and the materials used — any available data, until he was shut down.
When KD6-3.7 was activated the next time, data regarding his mission had already been uploaded into his memory. Following a brief self-diagnostic — he was now fully assembled and represented a finished project — KD6-3.7 rapidly ran terabytes of new information through his processor, lingering on the personal file of the human he was assigned to accompany.
Doctor Ryland Grace, a scientist in the field of molecular biology, a middle school science teacher. Along with the dossier, media files had loaded — recordings from old conferences, official photos, and a few personal snapshots. KD6-3.7 spent the longest time processing a video recording from a supermarket CCTV system, where the incident had occurred that led to the decision to assign an android to the human.
KD6-3.7 replayed the video footage several times, pausing and zooming in on specific moments.
The moment where Ryland Grace and another man, whom he identified as Carl Summers, a security employee, enter the camera's field of view: Carl Summers is pulling a fully loaded cart by the front edge, while Ryland Grace stands on the bottom rack of its rear end, allowing himself to be wheeled along with the cart.
The moment when Ryland Grace says something apparently funny, causing Carl Summers to look back, and thanks only to this, he manages to notice the attacker with a knife.
The moment where the cart does a full spin along with Ryland Grace, sent sideways by a powerful shove. The knife intended for him meets the bodyguard's forearm, but KD6-3.7 zooms in on a different moment. The cart rolls backward, slamming hard into a display shelf; Ryland Grace's back collides with it, and from the impact, boxes and packages tumble to the floor. The quality of the video footage suffers upon zooming, but even so, KD6-3.7 can discern how the pain of the impact on the man's face gives way to bewilderment, shock, realization, and horror. Frozen, the man does not even adjust his glasses, which had slipped from the collision and now hang crookedly on his face, and for a thousandth of a second, a strange signal arrives from the android's fingertips — too insignificant to interpret in any way. His entire interface was occupied with registering what mattered most: the purpose of KD6-3.7's existence and his primary objective was to prevent a repetition of such situations.
The dossier vanished, minimizing, and KD6-3.7 shifted his attention to the human in front of him. The facial expression of the engineer tracking the displayed logs on a computer was determined to be pleased.
"All tests passed successfully, he is ready for operation," he said to someone over a radio, and then stepped closer.
The engineer disconnected a cable from the port in his temple, and the strange sensation of his "brain" draining away subsided. KD6-3.7 blinked, turning his head to follow the man, but the engineer entered some command into the computer, and everything vanished once more.
The third activation is performed not for diagnostics. As soon as all systems boot up, KD6-3.7 analyzes his location and concludes that he has been transported to the site of operation. The engineer performing his activation quickly reviews the data on a tablet, commands him out of the transport crate in which he was brought here, and hands the tablet to a woman.
Eva Stratt, administrator of the UN task force, head of Project Hail Mary, direct superior to Doctor Ryland Grace.
"Follow me," she orders after a few moments of close scrutiny.
KD6-3.7 is led into a small office and left to wait there. The android catches a glimpse of the surroundings, scanning them and finding nothing of interest, save perhaps for a small mirror hanging on a cabinet. He steps closer, analyzing his reflection. He knew he was supposed to look like Doctor Ryland Grace, but he had not yet seen himself from the outside since full assembly. He immediately notes several discrepancies: the hair length and its color do not match the specimen, but ultimately the android determines this length to be more efficient. The absence of a logical reason to change the hair color causes his LED to blink yellow for a moment, but KD6-3.7 lacks sufficient data for analysis. He turns away from the mirror and returns to waiting.
Twenty-seven minutes later, voices are heard outside and the door to the main office opens. KD6-3.7 immediately identifies the voice of his future owner. Judging by his conversation with Eva Stratt, he is not particularly pleased with the prospect of being accompanied by an android, but KD6-3.7 is prepared for this. He possesses the knowledge that humans are most frequently predisposed toward androids in a less than positive manner, and there are protocols for resolving crisis situations. He can handle the human being hostile toward him; his primary task is ensuring his safety.
A call signal arrives via his internal network, and KD6-3.7 enters the office.
The list of facial discrepancies is immediately updated with new items: dark circles under the eyes, the rough surface of the lip skin, the flush on the human's cheeks and cheekbones — none of this had been reproduced on his skin, causing a series of non-critical errors in the logic chain. He also notes an elevated heart rate, dilated pupils, and uneven breathing in the human, which points to an increased stress level; therefore, the best course of action seems to be to simply freeze and allow the human to grow accustomed to him. And by all indications, this is the correct strategy. The human even initiates contact first, triggering yet another cascade of errors in prediction. KD6-3.7 analyzes his behavior and concludes that the human is not against androids as a whole; he is disconcerted by the very idea of needing a bodyguard. Making a note to act more subtly based on Dr. Grace's traumatic experience, the android returns the handshake.
Sensors and detectors immediately send a wave of information regarding the texture, density, and temperature of the human's body, and the android instantaneously adjusts, raising his own by a few tenths of a degree.
Then, several things happen at once. The first, though not in order of importance — KD6-3.7 acquires a name. "K." It is logged and accepted by the system as a given, but for some reason, the algorithms continue to replay the exact moment the human utters it, in the background, behind all other tasks, even when the conversation moves further along — as if something in those few seconds ought to draw the android's separate attention, but he does not know what exactly. In the background, the algorithms continue to break down the tone of voice, facial expression, and lip movement at that moment into micro-details when the second thing happens.
The human laughs.
KD6- K experiences another cascade of errors — after all, he had said nothing funny? But Dr. Ryland- Grace finds something amusing in his words, and while K attempts to analyze what exactly, his algorithms stumble for a fraction of a second, reproducing that short chuckle over and over again.
He is drawn out of this cycle by Eva Stratt. She slams the tablet into the man's chest more roughly than necessary, and the algorithms immediately react to how Grace sways and subtly winces. There is no direct threat, and besides, Eva Stratt is on the exclusion list — the android has no authorization to take any action toward her — but the signs of discomfort displayed by the human require a reaction. The inability to react results in system errors once more, which this time have to be ignored.
Ultimately, K silently accompanies Dr. Grace to his laboratory. Next, several more things occur. Grace, evidently feeling uncomfortable with him simply standing in the corner, asks the android to take a seat in a chair, and K has to rewrite several of his behavioral protocols on the fly. He possesses a complete and detailed psychoanalysis of this man, but even it does not prepare the android for how the human treats him right from the start. Grace behaves toward him as if considering him a person, without a single drop of hostility, and even the initial wariness vanishes within half an hour. In the lab, Grace buries himself in the tablet, and K, who had anticipated the execution of test commands, runs into errors again when the human begins to barrage him with questions as he reads through the files. Dozens of varied technical questions about his construction, algorithms, capabilities, biocomponents… The android answers each to the extent of available public information, but in reality, it looks nothing like the way he catalogs it. In reality, it looks like this:
"So you can reach speeds of up to eighty kilometers per hour on flat terrain?" Grace asks with inexplicable admiration, looking up from the tablet, and K nods in confirmation.
The man nods back, muttering something enthusiastically under his breath, and buries himself in the tablet again.
"Seriously, you can perform up to half an exaflop of operations per second?.." Grace looks at him, his mouth slightly open.
K nods again, not specifying that most of those operations are currently focused on this very human.
Because Grace lets out a whistling breath, returning to the documentation.
The android has already confirmed for himself the presence of certain self-esteem issues in the human, which were described in the baseline psychoanalysis. He has not yet identified the causes, but has set a task for himself to be as cautious as possible in his remarks and when voicing facts about himself. The last thing he needed was for the human to arrive at the illogical conclusion that K was an upgraded version of himself and shift his attitude to a negative one.
"Oh, I've reached the part about the stylistic choices," Grace sets the tablet aside, chuckling softly, and leans back in his computer chair. "They decided that a perfect match in appearance would negatively impact my psyche, so they gave you a different haircut."
Grace spins in his chair to look at him. K knows that some reaction is expected of him, but for some reason, practically all of his processes are occupied with processing visual and audio data. The quiet laughter, the small crinkles at the corners of the eyes, the contraction and dilation of the pupils, the gleam of the blue iris — all of this is cataloged and laid out in his memory.
"Well, it definitely helped my psyche cope with the appearance of my clone. Huge thanks to those guys," Grace laughs again, but K registers sarcasm in his words.
"Does it cause you that much discomfort?" he inquires carefully, venturing to speak first for the first time.
Grace turns to him again, his eyebrows arched in surprise, but K finds no irritation in his facial expression.
"It would be strange if it didn't cause me any discomfort. Unfortunately, my ego isn't quite massive enough to enjoy it," the man's brows draw together at the bridge of his nose, and K registers a slight increase in his central processor temperature. "But toward you, I have absolutely no complaints. It's just… your job, I suppose."
K nods, minimizing a cascade of warnings hovering over the system.
"If it alleviates the problem, I can wear a medical mask," he offers, logging the human's reaction.
The man laughs again.
"Oh, no, no. It's not that bad. I just need a little time to get used to it."
Grace looks at him with a soft smile. At some point, he had pulled his glasses down, and right now they are hanging off one ear instead of resting on the bridge of his nose as they should.
K's fingertips twitch for a fraction of a second, sending some signal, but all of his processes are once again too busy processing visual and audio data to register it.