Chapter Text
Frozen Butterfly Arc 3 Chapter 1.1 a story of Bubblegum Crisis
The world was comforting and warm, filled with a gentle thrum, light bathing my eyes in a golden glow. It tickled on my skin, like a feather being drawn across it. When with a snap like a dam breaking, knowledge built up for days came pouring through.
Fluidics systems 99.8%, Ocular systems 81.2%, Damage to abdominal cavity and associated musculature 3.2%, Damage to Epidermis 1.3%, time to repair 23:22:00 at current rate. Of course it couldn't be right. I was badly damaged and my blood supply had been deteriorating for weeks before…
The Fight!
Jerking up as my eyes flashed open I was halted abruptly, straps holding me in place. Eyes open wide; I tugged my arms and kicked my feet finding both equally restrained. Turning from the blurry concrete overhead I caught an impression of red hair, Nene? Struggles ceasing my mouth hanging open for a moment.
Beside her was another woman, she seemed strangely familiar, with short black hair and light skin. She was wearing a dark violet business suit and some kind of cream colored blouse. Swallowing past a lump in my throat, I turned my gaze back to Nene, remembering the last few moments before… now.
"Ne-Chan, what's going on?" I couldn't help it; my voice was weak, begging her to answer. I didn't add it, but unspoken another question burned inside my mind. "Why am I still alive?"
My heart pounded as she stepped closer, the care in her bearing, the way she leaned in, one hand rising subconsciously to reveal her thoughts. Subject exhibiting relief and concern 95% probable. But, wasn't she a Knight Saber? They killed boomers like me, and she had to know what I was now.
Nene shuffled her feet under my gaze, mouth opening as if trying to figure out how to start. But before she could the other woman cleared her throat, instantly drawing my attention.
"Ms. Ceallaigh, rather 4m83r, as I am sure you have realized by now you would not have survived without our assistance." She paused for just a moment to let that sink in. "I presume that you are also clever enough to come to the correct conclusion as to who we are." Subject is member of the Knight Sabers, probability approaching parity.
"Despite your previous association with Officer Romanova it is not safe for you to wander about freely, neither for you or for us. For the time being therefore you are and will remain our prisoner. That much is non-negotiable. However, within the confines of that there is room for discussion." Her tone was calm, stating facts, and sent a chill down my spine. Somehow I knew this was a woman to be wary of.
"For the time being you are required to wear a security bracelet. It regulates your systems, prevents you from accessing any wireless network and of course serves as a monitor recording your movement and activities." At her words I looked down with a hint of fear feeling something cool on my left wrist. There hooked into a now fully repaired maintenance port shone a simple metallic bracelet. Worse, now that my attention had been drawn to it I could feel the connection in the back of my mind, a low whistling sensation as if from a breeze; blowing through me and taking with it the heat of life.
Heedless of my sudden discomfort she went on. "If you answer our questions honestly and cooperate fully, you will be allowed some privileges."
I could almost physically feel an urge to respond, the promise of freedom dangling just within reach. Without pausing to think it over I found myself nodding. "Of course, anything, please, I'm not a danger, really." My voice straining to project sincerity well enough that she would believe me. As although she didn't say it; she didn't have to. My options were cooperation and confinement, or death.
Disconcertingly without my glasses I couldn't read her well enough to read a response to my plea. Her face nothing but a blur revealed none of the subtle clues I had grown so accustomed to seeing.
"Good, now then, we will start with Genom. What is your current relationship with them?"
Personally I thought it was a rather stupid question, she was being either intentionally dense or fishing given the vagueness of her question. "I don't have one, if they knew I was still alive they would probably try to kill me." Given that I would give a similar answer no matter what the truth I could only hope she was fishing and accepted the bait I left dangling.
"What leads you to believe that they do not think you are alive?" her question following swiftly on the heels of my response.
I actually paused to think about that, wondering why she was more interested in that, then why they would want me dead. I was surprised; it was a pertinent question, particularly if she somehow knew I had gotten caught up in things by mistake. Catching a slight shift, a hint of impatience slipping into her stance I stopped trying to second guess her motives to answer, as truthfully as I could.
"Well, as far as they know I was properly disposed of. Mast…" stopping as I realized the wrongness of that thought, I corrected myself and continued, "Mister Flint was careful when he acquired me to make sure that there would be no trail leading to him. From what I could discover my re-activation," a phrase that sent little shivers down my spine, "wasn't approved by anyone else in the company. For that to change Flint would have to admit what he had done and that I escaped. I don't think he will do that." Analysis of subject Flint shows supposition 93% probable.
Staring up at that still judging form somehow recognizing despite the lack of detail my instincts required that she wasn't satisfied I realized just how much I had left out. "Let me explain… it's a long story. I-" worrying my lip between my teeth I paused. It felt wrong to keep secrets from her; but maybe I could give an edited account, one she could believe instead of the farfetched truth.
"I'm an experiment. I was first activated in 2032 by Brian J. Mason. It had something to do with transferring memories but I wasn't ever told the specifics." Only the complete control I extended over my physical reactions let me appear calm beneath her imposing gaze, even blurred her narrowed eyes seeming to look right through me.
"Ah, that's when I first met Nene. I… didn't like it there and wanted to be free." Like that wasn't obvious… "And she helped me to escape the facility I was being held at. Unfortunately there was some kind of tracker I didn't know about and… well, Genom caught me in less than a day and I… was shut down."
Physical control or not I felt a quiver as I remembered my encounter with Mason, the helplessness and certainty that it was the end. "Actually, I'm kind of getting used to 'waking up' like this now." I tried to joke a little tugging at my wrists to indicate the restraints, but unfortunately she didn't take the hint and offer to let me up, though it did have Nene squirming uncomfortably behind her.
"Soo," I went on with a little sigh, "the next thing I knew I was waking up in Mister Flint's penthouse. He's some bigwig in Genom R&D. Not an egghead but a suit. Anyway it was pretty obvious he wasn't supposed to have me. The reactivation sequence was done incompetently. It's his fault I need glasses."
When even that didn't draw a reaction I tried to hurry things up, now just wanting to get to the next question, anything to try and relieve the nerves now plaguing me. "So, um, anyway he had taken care of all the records Genom had on me, not wanting them to find out he wanted his own private slave. Then I escaped; so in Genom only he knows I exist and hopefully won't ever speak up to cover his own ass. "
There was a nod, and I got the impression, 58% probable low certainty due to limitations on subject input clarity, that she had expected my answer or somehow knew my story without even asking. I looked over to Nene, and from her slight shrug and unfocused smile realized they had already put it together. Those actually made me feel better. It meant that telling the truth, being forthcoming like I was might buy me some good will.
"Um, is there anything you don't already know that I can answer for you?" I asked, my tone a little wry, and somewhat annoyed, as I didn't bother to hide my feelings.
"Yes, why Nene?" The question was short, simple, but I something in her tone implied the answer was more important than the question warranted.
"Uh, she's a friend. She helped me out when she didn't have to…" Clearly I wasn't giving her what she wanted. Even with my visual impairment the certainty was rising by the moment. "Why not Nene, I don't understand." It was my turn for confusion as she just nodded, more to herself than me.
"I am going to release you now, but you are not to leave this room. The door to the rest of the basement is sealed. The elevator will not function if you are present or if the bracelet is removed or disabled. We will monitor you around the clock." Her hands worked at the bindings as she explained the limits to my new world.
Finally removing the last strap, she handed me my glasses. Focusing on her face I got a good look for the first time. Her eyes were piercingly intelligent, brown but far from ordinary. I had to look away first. "Thank you." Hands fumbling with the hem of the hospital gown someone had put me in I changed the subject.
"Do you have anything else I could wear… or can I take a shower? How normal is my life going to be?"
"Nene can help with that, she visited your apartment to gather your personal effects. Good day Amber." And with that she turned on an expensive heel and was gone, the door locking shut in her wake leaving Nene and I sitting alone together, staring, the silence growing awkward between us.
Unable to let it continue any further I finally looked up, brushing back my bangs and asked point blank. "So, you're a Knight Saber huh… how, or well, I guess, why am I still alive? I thought that, you guys just killed boomers…" I left off, 'like me' but it wasn't really needed. She obviously knew what I was asking.
It was a relief to see her fidget beneath my gaze. Nene looked just as nervous and distressed over the situation as I felt. "We don't just go around hunting boomers. Really we're more of uh, mercenaries?"
It was cute watching her say that, trying to make it sound like a good thing. Add in how she began to blush when I lifted a single eyebrow questioningly at the statement making her realize that from my perspective that wasn't much better.
Growing a bit incensed she glared back at me. "Don't look at me like that, we only take good jobs. Or, well, uh, we don't do bad one's…" another raised eyebrow and I had her almost fuming. "Hey, it costs a lot of money to build and maintain power armor. Sure sometimes we have to do some shady things. But even though we stop rogue boomers as a public service, but we're not like, a boomer hate group or something. "
That nervous flutter in my stomach was gone. Yes she was a Knight Saber but still, this was Nene, my Ne-chan and it was hard to remain afraid when she was standing there nearly steaming and trying to defend herself to me.
Reaching out I put a hand on her shoulder feeling her warmth beneath my fingers. "It's okay, I believe you I do. I even understand why you can't let me go, but this is better than being dead. Thank you."
I took a nice steadying breath just in case the next thing I had to know resulted in bad news. "Nene, what happened to Irene?"
The slight hesitation before her answer didn't match with her expression. Indication subject focused on ancillary concerns 83% probable. "Irene is fine… mostly." She let out a sigh. "She was injured, but given who she's related to there shouldn't even be scars once she's recovered." Drooping even more she continued on. "But she's left Japan, and probably won't ever return, ever."
"What, who's her family, and where did she go?" I can't explain it, but just hearing that she was gone hurt more than my lingering injuries from the fight. A few simple words having stolen away part of the foundation of my new life.
"To China, I can't say more, really, but she'll be safe there, Genom won't threaten her again." Her dreary countenance turning what should have been an expression of triumph into a depressed confession. "We were supposed to protect her, protect you both really but, I'm sorry we just weren't fast enough."
Looking like she wanted to say more but wasn't quite sure how Nene fell quiet. To my dismay I realized that Irene wasn't the only thing I had lost in that night. The intimacy of our relationship was gone another casualty, and as I sat watching Nene get up and slip quietly out the door I just hoped somehow it could be salvaged.
The first few days of confinement were spent in heartbreak isolation. It was worse than waking up to the tender attentions of Dr. Sutekina, because then at least I had things to do, people around to prevent a slide into depression. Most of my time was spent alone, locked in a small storage room with nothing to do beside endlessly wonder how I could have avoided an ending like this.
I was only rarely let into the common rooms of their base, to go to the bathroom or shower before being locked away again. When I was let out one of them was always on guard but the few times I tried to start a conversation with Priss ended in miserable failure and an even more upset singer.
The look of betrayed confusion in Linna's eyes the first time it was her turn to watch me was enough to quell the desire to even try to explain myself. It was harder to be beneath the gaze of a friend than that of a virtual stranger.
The only bright spot in those early days came with Sylia. When she appeared at the door letting me out I could almost feel the world becoming a better place. She always had something to say, and even though she never used my true name around her the tedium was vanquished until once more I heard the deadbolt click into place. The lingering scent of life outside lasting long after the door had closed.
I found solace in spying. While Sylia's bracelet somehow managed to disable my ability to speed up or slow down my own processing speed, it didn't seem to affect my senses. Still able to distinguish sounds as low as 20dB eavesdropping was very possible.
"Nene, I know you care about her, but you need to be careful. It does not seem like it but she is a newborn, and still in the danger period."
"She's not like that Sylia. She's stable, and even if she weren't she wouldn't hurt us. I trust her."
"Perhaps, but that very attitude is why you cannot be trusted with her by yourself. You know the numbers as well as I do. Ninety percent Nene, that is how many go rogue; violently. And while it may be argued that Kari has already gone rogue or is past the danger point I'm not willing to gamble with your life."
"It's not a gamble Sylia, you saw what she did. She risked herself twice for Irene. She wouldn't hurt me, heck she was frightened of me when we first met and she realized I was with the AD Police."
"This is why I have not allowed you to be alone with her. If something went wrong you would not respond in time. This is an end to the discussion. If you want to see her I will allow it, but not alone; she is not safe."
After I overheard that Nene came to visit me for the first time since I woke up. To my frustration her visit was strained. The comforting connection between us missing and it was awkward trying to find something to talk about. The things I wanted to say I didn't feel comfortable admitting to in front of the cool eyes of Sylia across the room. On her part Nene was just too guilty and confused to feel comfortable.
Fortunately for my sanity Nene's stubborn and didn't give up. It took a few visits but finally inspiration struck and I begged her for a piece of cheesecake. To my relief the walls seemed to tumble down. That mundane desire, a need I could express and she could share helped us rediscover common ground to explore.
Linna was doing her best to pretend I didn't exist, probability 69%. She didn't say a word for two full weeks though she served as guard for Nene several times. My chance to change that came when it was her turn to let me out for a shower and she caught me in the middle of my weekly required self-maintenance fitness plan, I finally saw a chance to connect.
"Why are you doing that?" She asked when the door opened to me being in the middle of a set of crunches. Subject curiosity overcoming distrust 87% likely.
"I don't want to get fat." I grinned up at her. "You don't really think you can get a body like this for free do you?" Indications subject has not given prospect thought 80%. Overriding the requirement to finish I paused in my workout to face her directly.
"Linna, my body may have come off a production line somewhere but if you really think about it so did yours. I have to take just as much care of it as you. I have to exercise and watch what I eat carefully. The consequences for me are immediate, while you have some leeway. Everything I told you at the club is true, even if my manufacturer wasn't true-life I'm the same person now as then. I have to deal with the same problems every heavily cybered person does.
Going back to my work out I let her stew on that for a bit, letting her see me struggle and strain through the vigorous routine. Watching her from the corner of my eye I let her think on what I had said. Laying back and panting for air just like I did at the conclusion of her classes an idea came to me and looking up at her I could feel the sly grin come over my face. Subject susceptible to planned proposal 75% likely.
"You know, exercising alone is pretty boring, and I just know Nene hasn't been back to the club since… especially without me to pester her, 96% likely, and while I understand I can't leave, that doesn't mean you couldn't hold classes here just for the two of us. Even if she tries to get out of it you let her know, she promised to come to classes with me. We never said where."
I don't know it was that I suddenly seemed more human in her eyes, or if she just couldn't keep me at arm's length any longer but plotting together against Nene did the trick.
In fact, learning of the idea Sylia decreed all the Knight Sabers show up as well turning my spur of the moment idea into a thrice weekly ordeal. One that quickly took Nene and I from fit, to downright athletic.
After one of our sessions I overheard them discussing me again, the sound of the shower not quite enough to drown out their voices.
"I don't trust it Linna, that, that THING was pretending to be a real person. It fooled me, it fooled Nene, it even tricked you. If it did that once how can we trust its promises to behave. It's a liar and it's not human."
"Priss, calm down. Kari-san isn't here to trick us. She's as much a victim as Genom is. Have you talked with her? She didn't want to hide things from us but how honest did she need to be? One word of the truth into the wrong ear and she would have been dead. Can't you see it from her perspective?"
"Yah right, that bloodsucker's probably just waiting for a chance to stab us in the back."
"I wish you wouldn't call her that, we both know it isn't Kari's fault she had to survive on human blood, and we both know she wasn't out…harvesting like some kind of vampire. From what Sylia says things were actually past the critical point for her already and she still hadn't done anything to hurt someone.
Linna's faith was reassuring. I was slowly but surely winning back my friends.
In spite of Priss's continuing distrust it didn't take long for my calculated efforts to pay off. Not only did the others begin to talk to me again, but started bringing books and tapes to help pass the time.
In little more than a month came a kind of daily liberty from the confines of the holding cell. I was free to join them in the common room, or use the facilities and kitchen unattended. The rest of the basement however remained off limits. Door's locked if I approached too close and I was under no delusions about what would be done if I actually did manage to get into the hardsuit lockers. Even so this little bit of freedom was enough to go to my head.
Maybe that's why I confronted Priss. Things were going so well with everyone else and I just wanted to win her acceptance.
She's a prickly one. I wasn't quite sure how to deal with her because she didn't stick around long enough to analyze her feelings. We hadn't gotten to know one another before the 'reveal', and she certainly didn't seem inclined to change that now.
The continuing silence and cold shoulder ate away at something inside. I could take hatred, or contempt, but the way she pretended I wasn't real wore at me. Finally I snapped and cornered her. Confronting her probably could have been handled better.
The Knight Sabers had gone out again. Boomer hunting or one of their mercenary jobs I wasn't sure and it didn't matter. The important thing was that this time I wasn't letting Priss slink away after they got back.
As usual she tried to ignore me, even quickened her pace when she saw me coming but in this instance security worked in my favor, elevator doors refusing to open with me in close proximity.
"What the hell is your problem?" She beat me to the punch, with my own question no less. Of course I wasn't feeling in any mood to be polite either, the weeks of being treated like a pariah wearing on me.
"What do you think? Did I choose to be here? That I like being treated like I've got a contagious disease? The Hell! The others at least accept that I exist. It isn't enough for you to keep me here, but can't you at least acknowledge I exist?"
I could see her face screwing up with anger, watch as she took a breath to refute my statement but this time I beat her to the punch. "What the hell is your problem? I know you kill boomers for a living but that can't be the whole story, I mean your band is named the Replicants for kami's sake."
Her face flashed from anger to surprise before a mask slipped into place. Likelihood that origin of band name taken from movie Bladerunner 98%. With a shove she stepped into my personal space towering over me. Warning! subject unstable, likelihood of hostilities 87%. "What do you care, it's not like your emotions are real anyway?"
Looking back there are a lot of things I could have said at that point, about why Priss might empathize with a runaway opposing a faceless megacorp, or some clever analogy between myself and Rebecca or Decker, how if I thought and felt like a human didn't that make me close enough to count. I didn't do any of those things though. Instead I took a swing at her.
Even as my fist flew forward I realized it was a mistake, but I couldn't help it I was just that mad. I think surprise is the only reason it landed. Priss's head snapped back, teeth closing with a sharp clack. I had all of two point three seconds to revel in my victory, David beating Goliath. That's when she got past the surprise; I saw her eyes narrow and body begin to move.
Now would have been a great time to enter accelerated time, but Sylia's bracelet disabled that ability and I hadn't found a way around the block. Instead Priss' lunge introduced her fist to my chin, and knee to my stomach.
From there it got worse. Priss may fight dirty but she's also good. I got two lucky hits in, but reviewing the fight after the fact I can't claim they were intentional. The beating she gave me once she got over her initial surprise however was both brutal and thankfully short.
As I lay on the ground, curled into a ball to cradle fresh injuries and dialing back the pain she stood over me panting from the sudden burst of adrenaline. Shaking out a bruised fist she asked belligerently "Had enough?"
"Have you?" I shot right back quickly. "Or do you need to beat me up some more to feel human?" My words intentionally cutting, and just the opposite of what my instincts screamed at me to say to defuse the situation, probability course of action will defuse tensions 12%.
Her response was to draw back her foot but before she could land the next kick I bore on. "It's okay, I'm starting to get used to getting beat up by soulless killing machines," 6%.
That she went through with the kick wasn't much of a surprise. "What the hell do you know about it?" She screamed as she dropped down straddling me, fists gathered the shirt at my neck and slammed me back against the concrete floor. "You can't understand. You're just a thing!"
I don't often give thanks for my loss of humanity but the ability to suppress the pain and think clearly then was invaluable. "I'm a person, just like you, like Nene, like whoever you lost. The only difference is I was born a slave. I wasn't given a choice about getting fucked over, I was made for it. Do I deserve to be killed for it Priss, or should I call you Decker instead?"
In the middle of my rant I felt her begin to tremble, frustration stealing her conviction. The profanity of my response driving the nail home, I watched as the rage turned to confusion and guilt. Letting go she tried to shake it off with a snarl. "That doesn't mean you're real, and just because you have a shitty life doesn't mean you're not just a marionette."
Rather than speak up I let her have the last word, not moving anything but my eyes as she backed into the elevator, my subconscious unable to provide a meaningful read on her emotional state. Instead I just watched her go, feeling the chill of the floor sink into my bones as the doors cut off that accusing stare.
Interacting with Sylia was different than dealing with the others. From the beginning I felt, no I knew she was key. Something in her very presence bespoke command. I found myself wanting to please her as much or more than those actually on her team did. It wasn't just to get out from under the microscope either.
It was hard dealing with her at times because she was difficult to anticipate. After my fight with Priss I expected the terms of my confinement to return to the beginning. To be punished for lashing out, or at least some kind of negative repercussions.
Instead the next time I saw her she brought in my dialysis machine and to my surprise several fresh pints of blood.
"Amber," she again referred to me by designation rather than name a habit I couldn't work up the nerve to confront her over. "By my calculations your internal systems will require a fresh supply of nutrients for repair and proper function." With a gesture she made it clear I was to sit so I did.
Without another word she quickly and efficiently set up the transfer, as though she had done this a thousand times, showing no discomfort at proof of my inhumanity. Her proximity was strangely disturbing as she took my wrist in hand to make the connections. Her skin was warmer than I expected 37.2 degrees; she seemed so cold I somehow assumed it would translate to everything about her.
Instead I couldn't help but catch her scent, slightly sweet yet metallic, lingering as she stepped back and settled into the chair opposite me. Her eyes bored in, judging as though they could look right through me. Here it came, now she would decide my fate.
I shuddered a chill running through my veins. It took long moments to realize it was simply the rush of fresh blood and not her cool gaze causing the sensation. I wondered what she saw in me, at the shivering pleasure of fresh life literally bleeding into my veins.
Awkward the silence stretched between us before finally she broke it. "Why did you attack Priss?" I couldn't read her intention behind the query at all. The frostiness of her tone indicating to my mind just how stupid the decision to attack had been but she gave no sign of chastising me for it directly.
I wanted to give the question some thought, but beneath that penetrating gaze found myself blurting out the first thing that came to mind. "I was angry." The slight twitch of her eyebrows broke her façade, indications subject intrigued by response 62%, and prompted me to go on, and this time taking a moment's thought I did.
"She was ignoring me, pretending I don't exist. It pissed me off. Where does she get off judging me like that? No… deciding that I'm not even worthy of that much attention. She doesn't know my life, what I've been through, but she knows I'm a boomer and that's enough. Like that one little fact means she doesn't even have to take the time to think before stuffing me in a little mental box to be forgotten."
"I wanted to make her see me. Not what I am, but who." Running a hand through my hair in frustration the tubing at my wrist swaying wildly I leaned back with a sigh. "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have," the need to apologize before that impassive gaze rearing up before I went on. "But I wasn't trying to escape or anything. Just, make her notice me…" Why did it feel like I was standing in the principal's office?
I couldn't come up with anything better, to explain the inexplicable need to be noticed, acknowledged but thankfully a slight nod relieved me of the need. "What do you think your punishment should be?"
I sat slack jawed for a moment. She was asking me?
"You did attack one of my Knight Sabers. Putting you down would be a perfectly reasonable response on our part." Subject exhibiting control over pulse and respiration, suppressing voluntary body movement and maintaining constant eye contact, intentions inconclusive.
I had to fight to suppress the urge to blurt out the first thing to come to mind. Instead I took a deep breath, and holding it measured off exactly 10 long seconds, let it out and only then answered her question.
"Miss Stingray, if anything my… actions should prove that you and your organization are safe from me. I admit I was angry; and acted without thinking it through but the results are that even attacking with surprise I couldn't outfight Priss. You now have proof I'm at best a minor threat and your programing blocks are working." That last bit coming out a bit bitterly.
"Or," Her voice calm and measured, "You are a student of Machiavelli and this is just a small part of a deeper plan."
"Machiavelli?" I asked incredulous. "He wrote the Prince as a primer for people in positions of power, not prisoners like me. What on earth makes you think I could or would even dare that kind of manipulation with people who could kill me out of hand?"
Her response sent a shiver down my spine. "The facts that not only do you recognize the name, but are capable of relating it to your situation. That is not standard behavior, or information for a boomer to have; certainly not one less than three months old. Explain."
The hard look in her eyes seemed to pin me in place. I couldn't move. It almost felt like I couldn't breathe with her staring expectantly at me. A thousand possibilities flashed through my mind, lies, half-truths, a full confession. I desperately sought out something to say, something to justify myself.
What came out of my mouth next rattled me to the core. "They aren't my memories." I could feel the blood almost humming in my veins as my heart rate skyrocketed. "I was given them w-when I was activated," wide eyes studying every facet of Sylia's face for a reaction.
A brief flash of shock let me read her feelings before once more her control locked out my instinctive knowledge once more. Subject surprised 68% likelihood, warning subject shifting toward feelings of anger 63% likely.
"T-they're real memories, Human ones," I swallowed unable to hide my nervousness as I went on rationalizing; it was too late to hold back now.
"They are my memories from before I died. They saved them somehow, transferred them and made me." The slightest narrowing of her remarkable eyes had me hurrying to say more before she could make up her mind to just shoot. "I'm not working for them, just an experiment. Mason really does think I'm dead. I was just a, a test run, proof of concept." I knew I was babbling but couldn't stop now that I had started.
It wasn't until I had blurted out the story behind my life, death, and resurrection beneath her piercing gaze that I slumped down, spent but feeling oddly light and content. Only one secret had been retained, my original sex. It wasn't me anymore, and I knew, instinctively, that it would cause more problems if it got out. I would need to leave the cocooning shell of gender behind if I wanted to be able to truly fly free.
"Good evening Ms. Ceallaigh." I caught her scent moments before a hand settled on my shoulder. She squeezed it gently before disappearing out the door. That single moment of reassurance, of support stayed with me for the rest of the day.
Since then I felt her thawing toward me. Even though my subconscious couldn't quantify it something subtle in our relationship had changed; something beyond her using my name instead of model number. Her behavior didn't shift in an obvious way, she didn't give me any greater freedom, or lighten the security further, but still I could tell something had changed.
As for Nene, she and I had mended our friendship. Though it was strained she was a good enough person that my betrayal wasn't enough to break the bonds we had forged. Although it did take rehashing many of the conversations we had once I admitted the truth behind my memories to her.
It was the day after Sylia had browbeaten the truth from me when Nene came in, tense, excited and looking like she wasn't sure if she should hit or hug me.
"What do you mean you're a real dead person?" Her tone made me cringe and look for somewhere to run. Of course there wasn't, so I had to turn back to face the music.
"Um, I don't…" but before I could say more than that she was continuing.
"I thought you were a real person when we met! How could you let me think that?"
"I was I mean, am a real person… and what was I supposed to say?" Wait, she's angry that I told the truth at first?
Talking over my response she ranted on, "Then you turn out to be a boomer, and what am I supposed to think?"
This time I knew enough to wait her out before trying to get a word in edgewise.
"And now, you let me think you were just, just some machine when you've been a real person all along! I should shoot you myself just so you stop changing on me!"
Waiting a moment longer to be sure she was done, for the moment at least, I drew breath. "Nene, I'm sorry. I just didn't know what to do. I don't even really know what I am anymore. I'm me, but still I'm also a boomer…" Standing up I stepped close and put a hand on her shoulder following subconscious prompts to help calm her down.
Meeting her eyes I spoke softly forcing her to quiet down and listen. "I'm just me. The same person you met on the internet, the same one who was scared out of her wits when she realized you were a part of the AD Police. I'm the same one who's gone with you clubbing and for coffee. I'm just, also a little bit more."
"Please, you're the only thing that is real in my life. Everything else happened to someone other than me. I may not seem it but in truth I'm only a few months old." I watched her closely; thumb slowly brushing against her clavicle measuring her pulse, respiration and dilation of her eyes.
Something in what I said caused her to stop and think. As though she had recognized something profound. Something that last admission blew right back out of her thoughts.
"Wait a minute… you said you were 19 years old. But, that movie, Wargames was from 1983. Just how old are you… er were you?"
Darn it, why did she have to ask such a messy question. "Ah, that's not really easy to answer. I could be 43, or 61, or 5, or 3 months old. It all depends on how you decide to count it." I think I broke her for a minute as she tried to work that out.
"So, you're really 43 years old then?" The expression of doubt and mild aversion on her face was priceless, and a memory I decided I would have to be sure to save forever.
"Don't be so jealous Ne-chan, I'm sure by the time your my age that science will have advanced to the point that you'll be able to match my figure too." The teasing tone and pin up pose I gave her was just enough to shake her from the building funk.
"Kari!" Delivering a well-deserved punch to my shoulder she broke out laughing. "I can't believe you!"
"I'm sorry, I was built this way!" My smile slipped just slightly as I made a decision. "I'm really not quite the same person I was before Nene. You shouldn't just assume that I just picked up where I um, left off," the euphemism for death coming more easily to me than saying the hard truth aloud.
"It isn't just the body, but, I have, it comes with…" I didn't expect this to be quite so hard. "You know what the 33-S model was made for right?"
She watched me curiously the humor slipping away as she recognized that I was trying to be serious. "Yes, for sex." The fact she got it out in one go despite the blush was somehow a triumph.
"Well, we're also um, equipped to facilitate that by being especially good at… manipulating and reading people." I tried to go on before she could draw her own conclusion from that.
"It's instinctive, I can't really help but notice, or act certain ways. It's…" searching for a way to say it she might understand I settled on programing language. "It's hard coded into me. But just because it's there doesn't mean that my feelings aren't. I have let it color our relationship, but before you ever knew that, you knew me. The real 100% genuine article. It doesn't work online and, and any time you want to be sure I can't, cheat, we can talk that way. Please don't be mad." The last line added by that same subconscious urge that I was admitting to consciously. Something expressly designed to mitigate her anger by instilling a feeling of guilt for feeling any.
Sitting down on the sofa she took the time to really ponder what I had said. It was obvious now, why even at such a young age she was part of an elite mercenary unit. "You've been doing it to me all evening haven't you?" Those emerald green eyes bored into my own lighter ones seeking truth.
I hung my head a bit, all the proof of guilt she should need. Still I spoke up. "Yes, I'm sorry. I really can't help it. I just see how to act to calm you down, or defuse tension. A way to try and keep you as a friend and do whatever it is."
"If it makes it better I only do so because I care about you, about your friendship. I don't have to follow those feelings, if I did I never would have taken a swing at Priss, but I wanted you to know that they are there. I don't want to have any more secrets from you."
To my surprise she laughed. "Kari, it's okay. Seriously, you don't have to explain why Priss pisses you off. We all want to punch her some days. As long as you only let them lead you to do what you really want to do I won't get too upset."
After that we sat up all night long, watching TV and talking. I insisted the first movie be Bladerunner. We shared a little laugh over Priss' choice in names before moving on to Wargames and other esoteric films from my youth.
As the evening grew long she almost drifted off several times. The lost closeness of our relationship restored I finally gave up and let her sleep, tucking my blanket around her and let her rest.
I think she may have gotten into trouble later, but the fact I was still there in the morning and she was alive went a long way to showing I was trustworthy.
"She attacked me Lina, she can't be trusted!" I could hear Priss's voice coming from the changing rooms again, and unsurprisingly I was still the subject of her ire.
"Priss, I saw the tape, everyone saw it. You can't claim to be entirely innocent here. Besides, you put her down in seconds. She can't be as big a threat as you're trying to claim."
"I still say she's up to no good, just waiting for a chance to betray us, you'll see."
"Then why didn't she do anything last night, Nene was asleep with her in the same room. If she really meant us harm she could have taken her hostage or even killed her."
"It's a trick, I'm telling you, this talk of real memories, it has to be…" but with that last line I could hear a waiver in Priss' tone. Subject exhibiting self-doubt 76% probable.
After the fight with Priss I had realized just how vulnerable in a fight I really was. I needed to do something; anything to fix that but without a connection to the outside world I couldn't just download combat software and it was unlikely despite the thawing attitudes that I would be given permission to do so anytime in the future. Amusingly it was gaming that finally offered a solution.
Tekken has come a long way since the 90's. The battlefields are incredibly detailed and characters modeled true to life with bone, sinew, muscle and the best part, the motions and fighting styles are taken from real life martial artists.
It took a little conniving but after Nene had thrashed me for the umpteenth time I talked her into to cobbling together a direct interface to use in place of a controller. I think it was the technical challenge as much as my pleading that did it but that night when she went home I went to work.
From the multitude of styles only two were modeled on characters whose body types were similar enough to mine I could use them. Learning the moves perfectly was a matter of moments; implementation was the issue. The last thing I wanted to do was try to download the game's fighting AI and figure out how to run it in my head.
So, after a half hour of work I looked like a master in wushu and jujutsu. Learning how to actually fight would take time. Thankfully I had a perfectly good simulator right here and a selection of 32 opponents and five difficulty levels to teach me when to duck.
After the great revelation the days when Lina arrived for private aerobics became my favorites. There was something about getting them all in a room that put me at ease. It filled some subliminal need for socialization and with each repetition I realized how much I missed it when they were gone.
Sylia appeared to have no concerns over my behavior, but then she had never exhibited them before. The only true change was that she used my name instead of my designation. Her behavior was a complete opposite to Nene's. Our friendship was back and growing stronger with the younger? woman happy to talk about her day or whatever she had been doing lately.
As if in deliberate contrast Priss became even pricklier. She quit ignoring me, but instead actively went out of her way to try and antagonize me. Knowing that the most annoying response I could take was pretend not to notice and it almost became a game with her trying to taunt me into some kind of 'slip' while I became a model prisoner whenever she was around.
Only my relationship with Linna remained in an uncomfortable state of limbo. We were familiar with each other, but didn't know enough to get closer. She maintained some of Priss' distrust but trying to get over it she only found herself having trouble relating to the me behind the mask.
Meeting Mackey was a surprise. I knew he existed from snippets of conversation but catching a teen boy sneaking into your room at night to install a hidden camera doesn't convey the best first impression. Neither does his subtly trying to ask if, "You're sure there aren't any needs I could help fill for you?" Yes I'm a robot built for sex, and it's both flattering and oddly nice to be vindicated by a demonstrated desire to peep on me but seriously… get a life.
As the weeks passed even Priss began to forget why she was so upset. I changed from enemy to rival in her mind as we pushed each other as far as we dared.
To them all I changed from boomer to woman, from dangerous prisoner to unfortunate detainee. So why the confinement began to grate upon me more and more each day I couldn't say. Only that I could feel my mood settle into disturbing patterns of euphoria and depression.
Though my privileges were slowly increasing, more choice in clothing, movies, games, and books, Sylia was always careful to keep any contact with the world outside cut. I was always one step removed from real life. A fact I finally realized one day when Nene described how a co-worker and she were caught in a rainstorm at lunch.
I wasn't living anymore. I was just coasting from one meeting with the Knight Sabers to the next. My thoughts focused on that next social 'fix'. I could even feel the dependency growing, feel myself slipping further into the grasp of programing and instincts that weren't me.
My helplessness wore away at me, time alone seeming to be without end and that's when I overheard one more conversation.
"But Sylia, why not? You've seen it too. You know how miserable being confined for her is. She's spent day's moping in bed just waiting for someone to visit."
"Nene that behavior more than anything else is why we cannot let her go. I warned you before, no matter her apparent age she's just a few months old and the odds are against her. This instability, it may be the first indication she is going rogue."
"That's nonsense, she's trustworthy, and I know it. How much longer will she have to stay locked down here before you decide it's safe, that she's past the danger point?"
"I know it is hard, but we might not ever be able to let her go, how can we be sure she is safe?"
"What about the imprinting?"
"It has never proven itself reliable with her model. I do not believe it held. For the first month possibly two she would have done anything I asked, but I am not her master anymore Nene. Not reliably, and nowhere near firmly enough to let her go and trust her not to reveal things we cannot risk being known."
"It's just not fair Sylia, she's my friend."
"I know, but that does not change the situation. I am sorry."
I couldn't just accept that. No matter that things seemed to be getting better. They let me move about more, gave me things to do to keep myself occupied. But it wasn't enough to just live my life as a 10 to 2 friend, Monday Wednesday, Friday and alternating Saturdays.
What I had overheard was true. This life was eating me up. Something intrinsic to my being wanted to be free. Even Priss starting to use my name instead of "it" wasn't enough to change the fact that I couldn't stay here.
I wanted live again. To be me, without some strange programing enforced Stockholm syndrome. That life was one I didn't think I would ever have if I remained here, locked away and so I began planning and looking for a chance to escape.
My chance finally came. There was some kind of emergency, all of the Knight Sabers scrambling to respond. Something to do with Dr. Raven and a motorcycle gang but the details weren't important to me. Only that this once Nene was careless before rushing off to suit up was.
She remembered to take her laptop, but forgot to disable the network connection in the wall. A steady green LED winking at me showed it was still active.
And it if was still active then I finally had a way out.
The first step made me feel a little bit dirty, but hey, they didn't need the money in their purses and I definitely would. It was the second step that had me worried.
Hacking a security system designed by Nene didn't even cross my mind. I settled for a much simpler solution. I tripped the entire building's public fire alarm. It was a gamble, a big one but I was growing desperate, and even if it didn't work I no longer believed they would execute me for the attempt.
As the emergency lighting kicked in there was a light click and the powerful magnetic lock on the emergency stairs disengaged and pushing it wide I was free, sort of. If I took another step there was no going back.
I looked down at my wrist, of course it was a tracking device, but it was also plugged directly into my maintenance port. I could feel the soft pulses of data circulating as it reached deeply through my now fully operational maintenance port.
I still didn't know everything it was responsible for.
So I was understandably nervous as I tore it free and tossed it aside. A pulse from the bracelet rushed over suddenly active wireless receivers almost stunning me with its intensity. The feeling was strange after so long having gone without. I almost missed the whirr as the door began to shut, but a twisting jump and I was through. Sprinting up three flights of stairs I paused at the final door barring me from freedom.
Could I do it, was anything holding me back? Nene, Sylia, no. I pushed open the final door to leave them behind. This breach of their trust hurt but even just remembering the feel of sunlight on bare skin and anticipating it again washed away those feelings of guilt. "I was free at last."
To Be Continued