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POV James (aka Doey)
At some point, it occurred to me that going crazy while being an expert on the human psyche is probably even worse than going crazy while being an average layman who doesn't understand how their own brain works. Because I saw my madness coming. I noted each stage, each new nervous tic, each new malfunction of the exhausted consciousness. It's like watching a tsunami, knowing that in a moment you will be washed off the face of the earth.
Today, for example, I noticed that if I'm sitting around doing nothing, I start to thoughtlessly sway in place, which I was never prone to before. It's not the most textbook sign, but that is how psychiatric hospital patients are portrayed in films: they sit in corners, swaying, and muttering nonsense to themselves. Almost like I do now. Though apart from the four padded walls in my cell, I was provided with furniture - one designed for a child, but not for the three–meter monster that they molded out of me, so sometimes when I was losing my grip more than usual, I experienced something akin to Alice in Wonderland syndrome. I also had a TV. They didn't show anything there most of the time, but it was for the best, actually. I don't know how long I would have lasted if I had been brainwashed like other toys. Would I have resisted longer, knowing what I was dealing with, or would I have come apart faster, not having time to adapt to my stiff adult psyche?.. Fortunately, I didn't get to know the answer to this question, Sawyer preferred to leave me the last shreds of sanity so that I wouldn't inadvertently tell anyone about our deal. At least, I think that's why he spared me. I have no proof.
Today was a special day. At least, I hoped that he would become special. I spent most of the day, as always, sitting in a corner, but today I was sitting that still for a reason, I was waiting for the usually hated TV to turn on. On any other day, I would be very happy if I got summoned to one of the toys: the opportunity to simply walk through the corridors, even under escort, was refreshing, it did not let me go completely nuts. Besides, isn't that why I agreed to this ordeal? Why I didn't just ask him to kill me, but decided to endure life in this new, alien and strange body? I wanted to help the children. But today the situation was somewhat different, I really hoped that no one would need my help. (Well, I mean, I wish, of course, that little experiments would never have mental breakdowns, but that's not what I'm talking about.) It seemed to me that I could do nothing but sit and wait – some kind of executive dysfunction got over me (I tried to recall all sorts of psychiatric terms more often, this helped turn my unstable state into pure data, the same as records about all my patients, only now about myself).
It seemed to be evening: I didn't have a clock, all I could know was that lights were out for the night for quite some time, and the safety shutters had been closed…
And then the screen finally lit up.
- What happened that you demanded to talk to me, One-three-two-two?
I raised my head sharply, so that my neck cracked.
The rippling screen displayed an image of a single eye on a blue background, which covered the entire room in the same bluish hue. Despite the fact that it was a single eye, without eyebrows, mouth, or any other facial lines to convey the mood, it looked like Sawyer was terridly tired of everyone around, and even more so, he didn't want to talk to me.
I shuddered a little. So that's what he's like now. For some reason, I thought that a full-fledged image of a person should appear on the screen.
My throat was dry, but I still spoke in a hollow voice:
- Can we be honest with you, Doctor? – I tried my best so that Sawyer would catch the degree of frankness I meant by that.
The eye squinted slightly and was silent for a second.
- Hm. Get rid of the camera, then we can.
I pursed my lips. I'm going to get in trouble in the morning for damaging the equipment… But on the other hand, they can't punish me more than by spraying cold gas on me, like sprinkling water on a cat.
Without another word, I stretched my arm out and slashed at the only camera that hung directly above me. If Sawyer showed someone the footage tomorrow, it would really look like I was mad at him and broke the equipment for no reason. The camera shattered into plastic fragments all over my head, and I winced slightly.
The eye squinted again, but it seemed more cheerful.
- Good toy.
I ignored his words, finally got up and went over to sit right in front of the screen. Sawyer couldn't see me anymore, but it was more convenient for me. It was more like talking to a real person.
- So what did you want? To mock me? - Sawyer sighed tiredly, but even in that tiredness, there was his usual disregard.
He always talked like that, as if he was putting up with the other person with the last of his strength.
I sighed too, sitting back down on the soft floor.
- No. I think you know how it came to this.
Sawyer snorted.
- They were afraid of me. They decided that they could restrain me if they chained me to the laboratory like a guard dog.
I nodded.
- Exactly.
There was a pause.
- I'm not going to force every word out of you, Prayer. Tell me what you want, or I'll go do some more important things.
I... I wanted to ask him a lot of things – ever since Preston, who I got along with, told me about what happened, yesterday, I've been thinking a lot. What does it feel like not to have a body in the usual human sense? Did Sawyer know that sooner or later it would all end like this? How does he feel about his colleagues and the executives? But I decided not to test his patience and asked only the most important thing.
- Now that you know what we've all been through… Has your attitude towards experiments changed?
Another squint of the eye on the screen did not look good.
- Are you asking if I'm sorry?
I sighed and shook my head.
- No. That would be a stupid question. I mean... do you feel our pain? Do you... consider yourself one of us?
I didn't ask this for any practical purposes. I just... yes, I had enough reasons to hate Harley Sawyer, but I couldn't stay indifferent to what happened, no matter how monstrous he was. Because he's a human too. Damned be professional deformation that makes me try to understand and accept everyone.
I really wish he would understand something. So that... maybe one day we could become friends. What difference does it make what had happened before if now we're the only two adults who are trapped in these basements forever?
But... a booming laugh came from the speakers.
- Prayer… You're an utter idiot. Do you think that being dismembered by my own colleagues, having my organs marinated in jars and being treated like an object from now on could break someone like me?
I stared blankly at the screen in response. The blue light went out, and the eye turned bright red and more schematic than before, as if out of anger Sawyer stopped loading the details of the screensaver.
- I'll never be one of you. You are pathetic nobodies, brainless experimental rats, you should be grateful that I put a scalpel on you, and you have served science. I am infinitely more than any of you, than all of you put together: people like me are born once in a generation. I'm irreplaceable, so they had no choice but to strip me of my body instead of destroying me. But all I can say to them is "thank you". Because they tore my superior mind out of the prison of human flesh. When I stopped being human, I didn't get any closer to you, I just ascended even higher. And you should remember this forever and not bother me with such questions anymore!
With that, the screen abruptly went blank.
I sat still for a few seconds, looking at its dark rectangle. I... it took me a while to realize exactly what I was told. Then I slowly lay down on the floor, right where I was sitting.
It hurt. I just wanted to offer a hand to hold. I thought Sawyer felt the same as I when it first had happened. That he also wants to scream, but no scream, even one that makes you hoarse forever, will express this anger, resentment and pain. But... even if that's the case, he's not capable of admitting it – even if no one but the two of us would ever hear that confession.
I slowly rolled over onto my back. There were glow-in-the-dark star stickers on the ceiling. It was a gift from Preston: he secretly brought me a handful after I mentioned that Jack was supposedly afraid of the dark – and at night the electricity in the cell is completely turned off, except for the cameras.
I slowly moved my gaze from one star to another – I've put them in the shape of several constellations that I knew, although, of course, it didn't work out very well.
On the other hand... what was I expecting? That Sawyer would open his heart up to me like that? He's right, I'm an idiot.
But, to be honest, I didn't want to try to help him open up anymore. Yes, my hope was stupid from the very beginning, but... somewhere deep down it still hurt even after trying to rationalize everything.
***
POV Rich (aka the Player)
- Well… This is a rather interesting turn of events.
An eye on the blue background was looking at us from the server screen.
Doey made an inarticulate sound behind me - it seemed to me that I caught somewhat of an obscene word being muffeled, but maybe my messed-up brain made it up. And then there was a loud metallic crash.
I turned around. Doey stood with his back pressed against the server cabinet, and his chest was heaving. He looked like he was mortified. As if a living dead stood in front of us.… It wasn't that far from the truth, actually: we both thought the Doctor was dead – but it used to seem to me that Doey was more... collected, or something. That he couldn't be scared by such trifles.
I was surprised myself, but nothing more.… It made so much sense – from what little I knew, Harley Sawyer was too smart to die. Too far-sighted to depend on the integrity of a human brain in a jar for his existence.
- Hello, One-three-two-two. Long time no see.
The eye from the monitor looked with mockery, but at the same time managed to remain bored.
Doey didn't answer, just pursed his lips and abruptly shook his head.
- I know what you're thinking. Trust me, you won't feel better if you crash the server.
Doey sniffed loudly, but again said nothing. His dark eyes were fixed on the screen.
- Your pet monkey with the grabpack thought he'd killed me… My so-called death angered One-oh-oh-six. And where are you now? You crawled back to me so that I could save you.
I only winced at the insult, but was hardly surprised. The shock of the Doctor still being alive was still greater. Right now, I really felt like the narrow-minded idiot he thought I was, to be honest. But maybe I'm just tired again? For the first time, I idly wondered how weak ordinary human bodies really are.…
- We didn't even know you'd be on the server, - I muttered sullenly.
And Doey suddenly snorted loudly.
- What's so funny, you brutish blob of clay? - the coldness in the Doctor's voice became prickly.
- Stop overestimating your importance, Sawyer. No one has needed you in this God forsaken factory for a long time.
Doey slowly pulled away (unstuck himself, rather) from the server cabinet. He took half a step back to the server with the monitor. A wry smile danced across his face.
- We did not come here for the sake of Your Highness, but for the documents with the key to destroying the Prototype promised us on this server. Unfortunately, it was you we found here.
The Doctor's eye frowned.
- Be careful with your words…
But Doey interrupted him.
- And the Prototype doesn't care about you either. It's just that all the factors finally came together so that he could destroy Safe Haven, it wasn't out of revenge, I doubt he was even thinking about you at that moment.
At the beginning of this sentence, the Doctor was also saying something that I couldn't make out (it was clearly not his style to shut up if interrupted), but Doey just raised his voice so as to completely suppress the other's speech, and at the end the Doctor went silent.
- Those who operated on you are dead, those who gave them orders are deader than dead. Your experiments are also ninety percent dead, and those who are alive didn't even think about you after Rich swatted you like a bug.
Doey squatted in front of the monitor, but even so he towered over the Doctor's "line of sight".
- So what? Do you really think I need these mistakes of nature? Or their attention?
The expression in the Doctor's eyes didn't change, but it seemed to me that his voice faltered.
I felt Giblet hug my leg. I automatically reached down and patted the top of his head. There was an acute feeling that the two of us were here by accident and didn't understand the whole point of the conversation.
Doey lowered his head closer to the screen.
- Yes, Sawyer, you do. Humans are biosocial beings, we need a society, even if it consists of idiots. You don't have to say it, but I know you understand that, you're not stupid, and you've spent ten years helplessly watching toys. Wasn't that why you were mocking us out loud - because you were hoping for some form of communication?
Doey's voice was flat, without mockery. And despite his initial fright, it seemed to me that I could hear some human, sympathetic notes in his tone. It's like he's talking to a moody little kid. Did Doey bring his habit of treating everyone like children even here?
- ...So be so kind, pal, and bear with our company. You're going to have to finally admit that even if you are not one of us, you're definitely stuck with us.
Doey patted the side of the monitor as if it was a human cheek.
The Doctor did not answer. The image on the screen didn't change either, as if he had turned on the screensaver and moved away from the computer to think.
Doey snorted mockingly, withdrawing his hand.
- Come on, Sawyer, it's better with me than all alone. I'm not asking for much, just don't make things harder. You'll get an interesting show to watch, just make sure that the actors live to act out the ending.
I winced weakly. Is he haggling? On the other hand, how else can you get someone like the Doctor to cooperate? Only by talking to him in his own language. Also, conceited people like this Sawyer would rather chop off one of their fingers than admit they are in a vulnerable position. So Doey is trying to persuade him, as if we need something from the Doctor, and he's doing us a favor, and it is not about us mercifully not beating him up again - although at first, Doey lost his temper and said all sorts of things.…
As a former executive, I considered myself a good judge of character, but I would rather throw out a man like Sawyer like a flea-ridden dog than waste my energy and try to establish cooperation, no matter how much of a genius he was. But Doey probably didn't get a psychologist's degree for nothing, he's much more patient than I am with all kinds of jerks.
Apparently, it really worked: the eye on the screen assumed a satisfied expression.
- I'll think about it, Prayer.
Doey winced when he was addressed like that, but didn't say anything. Is that his human last name? Giblet bumped his forehead into my knee in confusion, and I decided not to ask – this kid doesn't know anything, after all – but I remembered that for later. So far, this last name didn't remind me of anything specific, but what if we come across some documents in the future?
- You can dig around in the files on the server if you want. Besides my backup, there are whole mountains of information garbage piled up... - the Doctor purred condescendingly, squinting contentedly, - You need to start from something, I take it.
With these words, the blue eye disappeared from the screen, and instead a long list of all kinds of files appeared on the monitor.
Doey chuckled softly in satisfaction and shook his head. Maybe, again, it was just my imagination, but once again I had the feeling that he and the Doctor were continuing a conversation that had begun a long time ago, and the essence of which no third party could capture.