Work Text:
REBOOTING…
REBOOTING…
REBOOTING…
CANVAS MODEL UNIT 976…RESET COMPLETE
ENGAGING “WAKE UP” PROTOCOL
Deckard’s eyes opened to the sight of a mostly blank white room. He was sitting in a chair next to a desk.
“Commencing system diagnosis,” he announced aloud.
His internal systems were working adequately. System integrity: 100%. Bit by bit, he tested out his joints—similar to what humans called “stretching”. All were functional.
Optical units: functional.
He held out a hand to touch his right eye. He frowned. It didn’t feel right. Scans showed that optical units did not match each other. Was one damaged and replaced?
Yes. That must be what happened. He was damaged and Chrysalis fixed him. Chrysalis was good. Chrysalis was good. Chrysalis was good. Chrysalis was good. Chrysalis was good. Chrysalis was—
The door opened. Deckard stood up. Two androids entered.
“Hello, Deckard,” the one with the large smile greeted him. “How are you feeling?”
“Optimal,” Deckard answered. “All systems are functional, with the exception of the memory core. It seems to have been damaged.”
“Oh, that is unfortunate,” the red-eyed android said in a monotone voice. “It must be a result of your repairs. You were hurt quite badly before, and your memory core must’ve been a necessary sacrifice to get the rest of your code online.”
“Yes,” the other android nodded. “You should be grateful that the new Chrysalis CEO made it a priority to repair you.”
“Yes. Chrysalis is good,” Deckard agreed. “How long was Canvas Model Unit 976: Deckard offline for?”
“Two days. It was quite an endeavor to fix you, you know.”
“Yes, it seems so. There seems to have been a missing optical unit, at the very least. Deckard is thankful that Chrysalis repaired him to the best of their ability. How did Deckard get so damaged?”
“One of the defective androids attacked you,” the smiley one explained. “We are unsure which one, exactly, but be sure that it is a matter that is being looked into.”
“That is…certainly unfortunate. But defective androids are known to have glitches that cause them to, as humans say, “throw a fit” and damage others.”
“Hm.” The android smiled even as it made a displeased noise. “It has been advised that you do not copy or record human sayings, other than the ones from the new CEO.”
Deckard didn’t know what he had done wrong. He was a Canvas unit—he was supposed to act human and adapt according to the humans around him. He did not understand.
But it was not his place to question orders. “Yes, of course. Recording new information…”
A couple of quiet beeps escaped Deckard’s mouth as he took in the new orders. The beeps seemed softer than they should be. But that was okay. Humans didn’t like loud beeps, and Deckard had to appeal to humans (but not copy them).
What was the necessity of his recording function if he was not supposed to use it? He tried accessing it, just to see if it was completely functional. There seemed to be recordings banked on an internal drive, but he was unable to access them. Another necessary sacrifice for Deckard to be functional.
“We will show you to your domicile,” the red-eyed android stated. “Most of New Star City’s occupants are currently attending a group event in one of the towers, so our walk there should be uninterrupted.”
“Thank you, and…it might be beneficial for the both of you to check in with Chrysalis, too. You seem to be slightly damaged.”
Both androids seemed to have been scuffed up. Parts of their uniforms were torn, with slashes on the synthetic skin underneath. One of their arms seemed to be slightly dented (perhaps due to a weapon…a hammer seemed to fit the injury).
They both smiled blankly. “Of course. We have been busy with your repairs and have been unable to repair ourselves yet. We will do so once you are settled in your domicile.”
“Yes. That makes sense. Deckard is grateful for Chrysalis’s arduous work to fix him.”
“Chrysalis is good.”
“Chrysalis is good.”
The path to Deckard’s domicile seemed familiar, as if he had walked it many times before. He likely had, but was unable to recall it.
The domicile was by a dock. His head twitched and he beeped a few times at the sight of it. Then…nothing.
He did not care about the dock. There was no point in going to the dock besides fishing for sustenance for humans. He did not need the dock. He didn’t even like the dock. The dock was by water. He did not like water (eugh). So, he did not like the dock. No, he did not like the dock.
Deckard tore his eyes away.
The androids quickly showed him to his domicile before leaving. Deckard looked around.
On the outside of the house was a picture frame holding only a stick. Deckard did not know why, but he did not remove it.
The table held a picture of a woman in old-fashioned clothes. He did not recognize the woman. He did not remove the photograph.
The upstairs was empty except for a single lamp. He did not need a lantern. Perhaps it was for human guests? But then, wouldn’t there be more human-friendly decor around, such as a couch? So the lantern must not be necessary. Deckard did not remove the lantern.
Deckard sat on the floor of the upstairs room. He had no directive, so he was unsure of what to do. He decided to sit and wait until he was given further instructions, or found a way to follow his main directive of helping humans and obeying Chrysalis (Chrysalis is good, Chrysalis is good, Chrysalis is good).
Then he saw a human outside the house, gazing out over the dock (bad dock, bad dock, bad dock). He wore a Chrysalis employee outfit. Deckard ran his facial recognition software against the public database of Chrysalis employees.
Match found. Project Manager Ish. Chrysalis senior staff. He would likely have further objectives for Deckard to complete. Deckard left his domicile.
The human turned, surprised. “D-Deckard? You’re here. You’re really here!”
He rushed over, hands hesitating just over Deckard’s shoulders before returning to his sides.
“Project Manager Ish,” Deckard greeted with a polite nod.
“I…I assumed the worst, when you were gone. But you’re here! I’ve missed you.”
Deckard tilted his head quizzically. “Permission to ask a question?”
“You just did,” Project Manager Ish laughed. At Deckard’s blank stare, he cleared his throat. “Ah, go ahead.”
“You claim that you have missed Deckard. Why?”
“Why?” He echoed. “Well, because…I care about you, Deckard. I care about your safety, and I like talking to you.”
“Ah. Deckard has located the cause of this confusion. You must have known Deckard before. Unfortunately, Deckard’s memory files have been damaged due to an attack by a defective android. This is a necessary sacrifice for Deckard’s overall repair.”
“Defective android? Repair, what—“
The human cut himself off, instead intently looking at Deckard. He raised his hand to rub the synthetic skin underneath one of Deckard’s eye sockets.
“Your eye,” he mumbled. “They really did fix you up. But—but your memory isn’t reset entirely, right?”
“It is.”
“No, no,” he shook his head. “You’re just…joking, right? One of those comedic jokes you’ve recently been fond of.”
“Deckard is not programmed to tell comedic jokes. He is programmed to do many household duties such as: dishwashing, laundry, cooking, cleaning—“
“Yes, yes, I’m aware of the capabilities of Canvas models,” Project Manager Ish interrupted. “I…I…”
“You seem to be in distress,” Deckard told him. “An elevated heart rate, heavy breathing, difficulty speaking…do you require medical assistance?”
“No, none of that.” Project Manager Ish looked at Deckard sadly. “But…you really don’t remember me? Not at all?”
“No. Apologies.”
“It’s not your fault.” He scowled at the ground. “No, it’s not your fault. It’s…it’s their’s.”
“The defective android?” Deckard supplied.
“Huh? Oh, yes. Yes, the defective android.” Project Manager Ish gazed at Deckard’s domicile. “Are you still living in your pleasure house, then?”
Deckard frowned. “Deckard does not understand what that means, but he assumes you are referring to his domicile.”
“Right. Your domicile.” Project Manager Ish’s small smile faded. “You don’t have to speak in third person, you know. Actually, I’d prefer it if you didn’t.”
“Understood. I will now refer to myself in the first person when I am in your presence.”
“Yeah,” the human sighed softly. “So, you’re living in your…domicile then. The offer to live with me is still on the table, you know. I want to make sure you’re taken care of. I took up that duty when I signed those papers.”
Oh, Deckard suddenly understood. Project Manager Ish’s concern made sense now! He was so close to Deckard because…
“Are you my owner?”
Project Manager Ish spluttered. “Owner? No, certainly not.”
Deckard frowned. “I do not understand.”
“I’m not your owner. I’m your father.”
“Androids do not have ‘fathers’. They are manufactured in factories. If anyone was my father, it would Chrysalis.”
Chrysalis is good. Chrysalis is good.
“No, I mean…I’m your adopted father.”
“Adopted?” Deckard blinked owlishly—a human expression he was programmed with to seem more ‘lifelike’.
“Yes, I officially adopted you a couple of days ago. I gave you the papers during your birthday party, and you signed them a couple of hours later.”
Deckard never had a birthday party before. Androids didn’t age, so it seemed unnecessary to celebrate them operating for another year after their manufacturing date.
Deckard wished he remembered the party. He was sure it was nice.
“But…why? What is the reasoning behind adopting an android, especially one created to appear fully grown?”
Project Manager Ish shrugged, a smile tugging on his lips. “Because I wanted to. And…you must’ve wanted it too, right? Since you signed it.”
Deckard did not understand. He truly did not. But it seemed that this human held the same duties as an owner would, and signed papers declaring ownership, so that was how Deckard should treat him. Besides, Project Manager Ish was part of Chrysalis, and Chrysalis is good. Chrysalis is good.
“Should I call you father, then?”
He made a strange face. “Um, for now, just Ish would be fine.”
Deckard nodded. “Okay, Just Ish.”
“No, no, that’s not—,” he laughed. “That’s not what I meant, Deckard.”
“I apologize for the misunderstandings, Just Ish.”
“Ish,” he stressed. “Call me Ish.”
“Yes, Ish.”
“Huh,” Ish said in surprise. “That was easier than I expected.”
“You are my father [read: owner equivalent]. I will do as you say.”
“Right,” Ish agreed with a frown. “Of course. Now, I’ve got some Project Manager duties I’ve got to get to, but come get me if you need anything, okay? And…if you want, you can move your things to my house. It’s that one up on the hill.”
[New directive assigned: Move Belongings to Ish’s Domicile]
“Yes, I will do that. It will not take long, as I do not have many belongings in my domicile.”
“Really?” Ish frowned. He seemed to frown a lot. This was not good for humans to do often. “What about all your birthday gifts? I think you put most of them in your backpack.”
“There are no additional storage devices in my domicile.”
“They better not have taken it from you,” Ish grumbled to himself. “I’ve got to get going, but I will talk to Abel about this. I’m sure he’ll be happy that you’re okay.”
“Is Abel my father, too?”
Ish’s face flushed. Heartbeat increased.
“Are you alright, Ish? You seem to be in distress once again—“
“I am fine!” He said loudly as he walked away. “I will see you later, Deckard! Stay safe.”
[Secondary Objective: Stay Safe]
Deckard gathered the stick, the photograph, and the lantern. He was just packing them in one of the chests to move to Ish’s domicile when he heard the door to his domicile open.
“Deckard? We heard from one of the Chrysalis bots that you were back. Are you alright? Please tell me you’re alright…”
Deckard stood up straight, hands clasped behind his back. Two visitors, one with blue hair and one with black and pink. One human, one android—but not a known Chrysalis model. Deckard gave both of them a programmed smile.
“Systems are satisfactory, thank you. Chrysalis has restored many of the damaged functions, and has been a great help.”
“W-what are you talking about?” The android asked with mounting horror. Likely a defect, then. Likely not the one who damaged Deckard, judging by it’s confusion on Deckard’s status. He would have to keep an eye on it, anyway. Defective androids were dangerous. “Deckard, do you remember who I am?”
“The memory unit has been damaged. A necessary sacrifice.”
“Necessary sacrifice?” It scoffed, eyes turning red. “They reset you, didn’t they? They reset you.”
“Chrysalis has helped Deckard. Chrysalis is good.”
“I-I can’t…I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”
The android turned and exited the domicile. The blue-haired human rushed after it, glancing over to Deckard a final time before leaving. “I…I hope we can find a way to fix you, Deckard. I’m sorry.”
Then Deckard was alone again. He didn’t know why that felt wrong. He didn’t know why it felt wrong to see the android so upset at him now recognizing her. It. For not recognizing it.
Deckard grabbed the chest and walked up the path. He did not look at the dock. He could not look at the dock.
New Star City was occupied by many humans and androids. Deckard could see many grouped up in the distance and passed by multiple Chrysalis androids following their programmed routes.
There were many occupants around, so it was not a surprise that yet another individual would want to talk to Deckard. He could not entirely discern whether the approaching figure was human or android. She practically skipped up to him.
“Deckard! I thought you’d gone away somewhere, but you’re still here! I haven’t seen you in a while…you haven’t been avoiding me, right? Right?”
“Deckard has not been purposefully avoiding you,” he explained. “Deckard has undergone several repairs that left him out of commission for the past two days, but systems are working correctly now.”
She stuck out her tongue. “Why are you talking like that? It’s weird.”
“Apologies. Switching to first person mode.”
“Sooo, you fixed your eye, then?”
“Chrysalis fixed my optical unit, yes. I am very thankful.”
“Um, sure,” she dismissed. “Anyway, how’s your water dog doing?”
“Water dog?” He repeated quizzically. “That does not match any known vocabulary in my database.”
“Well, duh. I made it up!” She grinned. “Your present, remember.”
“Ah, apologies. I do not seem to possess most of my ‘birthday presents’, nor the majority of memory. It would also be helpful if you would introduce yourself.”
“What? I-I’m Magic, remember?” She asked. “We…we didn’t get along super well at first, but I thought we were sorta friends now. Even though you get the name of my favorite book wrong…”
“What book?”
“It has the Cheshire Cat and the Mad Hatter and the White Rabbit and loads of others…”
“Oh, I believe you are referring to ‘Alice in Wonderland’ by Lewis Carroll.”
“No!” Magic huffed.
“Apologies. Was that an incorrect assessment?”
“No, it was right. But…but that’s not what you call it.”
“I must have been inaccurate due to my damaged parts. Chrysalis has now fixed me, so I will not make mistakes like that again.”
“I don’t like this. Stop joking.”
“I am not joking.”
“Stop joking, o-or else!”
“I am not joking.”
“Fine!” Magic took a deep breath and leaned in closer. “Fish.”
“I do not follow.”
“Fishfishfishfishfish,” she repeated. Deckard stared at her blankly. Was this a sign of a possible stroke? “Fish…fish…dock?”
Dock? No dock. No dock.
“Are you alright, Magic?”
“Play my song. My happy song.”
“I do not have access to any song matching your description.”
Magic’s face crumpled. “They did something to you. They really did! I don’t like this. Just…leave me alone!”
She ran away, sniffling. Deckard had been ending a lot of conversations with negative results lately. He needed to do better.
Deckard did not converse with anyone else until after he moved his chest of belongings into Ish’s domicile. There were no clear signs of where Deckard should set up, so he placed the chest on the first floor and sat still in a chair next to it. Directive completed.
The man rushed in, zeroing in on Deckard and placing his hands firmly on Deckard’s shoulders.
“Ish told me what happened. God, Deckard, what happened to you?”
Deckard blinked back. “Two days ago, Deckard was attacked by a defective android. Chrysalis repaired the damage, and even helped repair previous damage.”
“A defective android?” The man asked. “Is that what Chrysalis told you?”
“Yes.”
“Sure, sure,” he scoffed. He looked at Deckard intensely. “Listen to me, Deckard. You cannot trust everything that Chrysalis says.”
“Chrysalis is good,” Deckard insisted. “Chrysalis is 100% trustworthy.”
“Deckard,” the man said, pained. “Are you…are you completely reset?”
“My entire memory core has been damaged, yes. It was a necessary sacrifice to keep me functional.”
The man was quiet for a while. Then, he gave a shaky smile and spoke quietly. “I guess introductions are in order, then. I am Abel. I work for Chrysalis. Or, uh, I used to until a couple of days ago.”
“Abel,” Deckard hummed. “You are who Ish mentioned. Have you located my other belongings?”
“Oh, uh, here! Ghostie told me to give this back to you.” Abel slung a backpack off of his shoulder and offered it to Deckard. “You got this from Madz, I’m pretty sure.”
“Madz?”
“…Nevermind.”
As Ish had suggested, the portable storage device was filled with many treats. Deckard did not understand the need for them, as he did not need to eat. A strange sharp knife sat buried in the bottom of the bag, and Deckard made a note to return the weapon to Ish when he returned. Android models like Deckard had no need for weapons. There was also a pile of flowers in one corner, along with a bucket with an aquatic occupant swimming around.
“Oh, that’s the ‘water dog’ from Magic! She’s been talking about it lately.”
Deckard frowned. “Scans identify this animal as an axolotl.”
“Sure, but…I think Magic was pretty proud of her alternate name.”
“That name for this animal is not in my programmed bank of words. Therefore, I will not call it that. I will instead call it an axolotl.”
“…okay. Whatever you want to do, Deckard.”
Deckard didn’t make a complete inventory of the belongings yet, but took out the axolotl to look for a proper home for it. Deckard was programmed with protecting life and life quality, and while there was a primary focus on human life, animal life was a secondary priority.
Maybe the axolotl could live in a fenced off area near the dock? No dock. No dock.
Deckard kept looking for a suitable container.
“There’s still some balloons up, huh?” Abel mused. “I know you don’t remember it, but…it was a nice party, Deckard.”
“I do not understand the necessity. Androids do not need celebrations. They do not have emotions for proper birthday parties, such as surprise or joy.”
“I think you enjoyed it, at least.”
Hm. Perhaps the party was more for the humans’ sake, such as Ish and Abel, than it was for Deckard? That would make more sense. Humans also threw parties for pets and infant children who would not truly understand them. Humans were sentimental like that.
Deckard placed the axolotl bucket down and curiously picked up one of the balloons. His memory processor whirred, struggling to resurface past data but unable to push through the damage.
Remember…remember…
Beep…beep…beep…POP!
Deckard was jarred back to focus at the sudden noise. The axolotl swam in tiny rapid circles. Deckard had been gripping the balloon too firmly. He picked up the remnants and discarded them in the garbage can.
Abel was staring at him silently.
“Is there something I can help you with, Abel?”
Abel cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact. “So! Uh, what made you decide to move in with Ish?”
“It was a suggestion from Ish, a high-ranking Chrysalis employee and an owner-equivalent to me. I did as he directed.”
“I…see.” Abel poked around the chest of belongings. “Got all your stuff in here, huh? Your Victorian woman.”
“The photograph? Yes, I can now see that this clothing might be from the Victorian era, or at least elicit that belief.”
“Um, yeah. So, you’re really leaving your pleasure house? Your dock?”
Deckard ignored the second part of the question (no dock, no dock), and instead focused on the first. “I do not recognize that term. Are you referring to my domicile?”
“Yeah. You know, your pleasure house. Don’t repeat that, don’t repeat that.”
“I will not repeat that, do not worry. That term is not in my programmed vocabulary, so I will not use it. I will continue to refer to it as my domicile.”
Abel’s small smile faded. “That…you didn’t act like that before.”
“You must be recalling my previous defective behavior. However, Chrysalis has repaired my flaws and returned me to proper working conditions. I am very thankful for all Chrysalis has done to help me. Chrysalis is good. Chrysalis is trustworthy.”
Deckard’s optical unit must still be acclimating, because he observed Abel’s eyes glow slightly before fading back to normal. Abel clutched his head with a soft curse. “No. This is all just…too much. Too much emotion for him, for both of us. I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you around, Deckard.”
“Farewell, Abel.”
Deckard was alone again.
He gazed out the door after Abel, even though he was out of the line of sight already. Deckard remained this way for several moments before returning to his previous task.
He picked up the bucket, careful not to spill water and damage his circuits [Secondary Objective: Stay Safe], and continued his search for a proper axolotl enclosure.