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Rhys does notice the way the AI looks at him. Sometimes, there is something close to affection upon Jack’s face. Other times there is something calculating behind those piercing eyes. Rhys isn’t sure which he likes, or which he fears, more. There is something thrilling about all the ways Jack watches him though; like a cat ready to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse. But Rhys was learning to expect everything thanks to the brutal teachings of Pandora. Long days, cold nights, the apparent demonic wildlife (like seriously, why was a rack hive something that needed to move let alone exist?)
But the company man had always been a quick learner and Pandora didn’t scare him anymore. Now the thing that scared him was the free program that would occasionally hack his cybernetics. The thing that scared him most was the loss of his own autonomy. Jack hadn’t done anything to harm him.
Rhys forcefully reminded himself to tack on a yet to that thought because the Atlas facility had illuminated a new side to the AI. That Jack had been the demon everyone on this dusty planet called him. That Jack was a hurricane sweeping through the room with destructive force and a take no prisoners attitude. That Jack would have hurt his friends. But the Jack he talked to later that night on the roof of the caravan wasn’t so demonic.
No, that Jack was magnetic, charismatic. All bark and no bite. There was even that moment when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a blue hand tentatively reach out as if to touch his cheek. A moment of hesitation. A flash of remorse, followed by brief anger, in the AI’s eyes.
“You and me, kiddo. We’re going places.”
But it’s on nights like this one, when everyone is asleep and huddled up for warmth against the punishing desert cold, that Rhys takes a walk. Not too far from the camp (he doesn’t have a death wish) but far enough where only a faint glow from their fire can be seen. From the corner of his ECHO eye, he watches Jack materialize next to him. It… is tense for a moment as they try to figure out who’s going to break the silence first. Or if it will be broken at all.
Sometimes it is not.
Rhys doesn’t want to tonight to be one of those nights. But just as he starts to open his mouth to say something, Jack shakes his head.
“Not tonight Rhysie.”
The AI’s tone is dismissive but… something lurks below, some emotion that Rhys can’t quite pinpoint. He does know, however, the slight pinch at the corners of Jack’s eyes—those were the eyes of a man who had too much on his mind. “You… can talk to me, you know.” He hadn’t told his friends about Jack to begin with.
The AI remained silent, a wall resolutely between them. Rhys had accepted this about Jack.
But he wished that Jack would let him in.