bindsthedead

"... Abhorsen."

Connor tears his eyes away from the door, even as the dying tones of a bell ring in his ears. (He'd never thought he would describe a sound like that as visceral, but there's no other word that fits the feeling that's seeping straight to the depths of his mind, whispering 'listen' and 'rest.') His counterpart is watching the door, but it doesn't make sense. How could one teenager be the source of everything they're hearing? How long had she been tracking them? Why bells, what's happening, and is she coming to rescue the android and kill Connor?

'I don't want to kill you!' Being dragged from a hallucination he still can't make sense of. Being paralyzed, not damaged. Being given a message, invasive but short, and androids that were still alive to speak.

Connor considers the door again very carefully, and doesn't raise the gun in his hand. When he hears a single pair of footsteps on the stairs outside, light and quick enough to suit a teenaged human... Connor still doesn't move.

(If she's going to kill him, he can react fast enough to squeeze a shot off before the end--but she's not going to try. It would be inconsistent.)

There's a lot of thirium on the ground. It glistens deep blue in what light there is, a slightly brighter shade of blue than her surcoat.

Sabriel's not sure how much blue blood Connor needs to survive, but she doesn't feel anyone dead or dying in the building- she's not too late to save Connor, she tells herself, even if any fond feelings the army have for her are thoroughly dead by now.

And Connor's tracker is still online, she tells herself as she swings the door open.

"Connor?"

He's there, right where the tracker says he is, and Sabriel's expression shifts from concerned to horrified when she realizes the extent of his injuries... except it's not Connor.

Connor doesn't have a Charter mark, and Sabriel looks around in confusion- only to spot Connor, her Connor, the real Connor. And he seems even worse off than the other one.

"Oh. The tracker didn't switch when you did." Sabriel's tone is a little dazed, but she refocuses quickly, one hand tracing out the mark for light, not even watching as it flares to life, illuminating the room as though Sabriel had flipped the light switch, instead grimacing as she looks over his injuries and tucks away her phone.

"Which ones are the most urgent? I'll deal with those now." Ideally, they'd have gone somewhere safer first- but there was so much thirium on the ground...

These footsteps are familiar. Connor lowers his weapon entirely as Abhorsen steps into the room—though with the deviant still armed, he doesn't put the gun away. He does watch with some exasperation as his owner walks up to the wrong RK800.

"Here," Connor cuts in crisply at her initial address—eyes fixing on his double in challenge. It doesn't get to lie its way into his place again. Abhorsen accepts the correction easily enough... but not before dropping one brief, vital point of clarification.

The tracker.

His mouth opens. Closes. Flattens, stare suddenly poisonously sharp. It wasn't him. It was never him. Had the deviant known that, when it persuaded Connor to stay together? Or when it told him to destroy himself on the pretext that his ruin would keep them safe?

Abhorsen is looking at him. Prompting him. He should reply.

Connor straightens from his lean, emotion wiping from his face and voice. "Biocomponents #8134j is bleeding rapidly. Biocomponents #4559h and #4162b are also offline."

Thirium scrubber. Shoulder components. The hole cut through his side is less critical to his function, nevermind the stream of system alerts it's sending up.

Connor is struggling. She's here. She was concerned, stress carving lines into her face and sharpening her movements. Even as her eyes land on his forehead, and the other android speaks, she jerks her head to the other android, still concerned, and--

--It's like she's slapped him in the face with a bag of jello, and Connor jerks back a little, eyes widening. "It what?" Too late: she's already moved on. Connor jerks his gaze around, landing on the other android.

Cold, dark eyes glare back at him accusingly, and Connor snaps his mouth closed, bristling reflexively. Then he forces his shoulders down, feigning relaxation, looking away and trying not to seem as shaken as he really is. He doesn't have to explain himself to him, not even for the sake of processing this information further.

As the android straightens, Connor closes his eyes. His hardware memory and power usage have logs, and a glance at them tells him that--... Yes. Connor swallows dryly, mouth settling into a deep frown. She's... right. He needs to deactivate the tracker, which should be simple enough. He just needs to disable the biocomponent in question.

...

...

Seconds pass, and his commands have no effect. Connor's frown deepens even further, and he tries an override. It still doesn't respond.

Connor touches his collar and glances at the android and human, tracking the process of their healing (healing?!) through half-lidded eyes. Nothing ever makes sense around Abhorsen, and no matter how outrageous this magic (magic!) is, his tracker is the emergency. He may need to remove it manually. But how...?

Sabriel works quickly and efficiently, focusing on dealing with the wound that's bleeding before she moves on to his shoulder. There are other wounds, but- there's a street full of sleeping soldiers outside. She doesn't need to be as callous as Connor to know that she needs to prioritize serious wounds, and deal with the rest once they've gotten some distance from their pursuers- even if the soldiers won't wake up any time soon, she doesn't know when someone will come to investigate the lack of response.

And away from the other Connor, who the army is able to track.

Once she's fixed his shoulder, false skin spreading over the mended plastic, she looks to Connor's doppelganger- then back to Connor.

"What happened? How did you even run into him?" This part of the city isn't where she'd expect Connor to go to find what she'd asked about. Perhaps the army had chased them there.

"The army were the only ones that attacked you, correct?" Somehow, if the other Connor had attacked him, she doubts Connor would miss the opportunity to tell her how much of a fool she was for trusting his double.

Edited 2019-09-06 03:36 (UTC)

If his predecessor had attacked him, Connor would have shot it. (Again.) As things stand, he only watches, submitting to Abhorsen's repair efforts with a blank face and stiff obedience. He's reluctant to put the gun away, but he only has one working arm, and she needs him to expose the damage.

He's even less sure about doing that in present company. When not manipulating clothing, or pulling sections of his plating back, his hand stays silently over his holster.

But the deviant seems occupied with its own systems. Unsuccessfully, Connor can hope, from the look across its face. Function restored, his left hand rises, buttoning his shirt closed and tugging his jacket back into place.

"I was following a lead." His mouth twists. "And yes."

Abhorsen's been efficient, but the process still took time. And considering who had knocked their troops unconscious last time, he doubted it would take the army long to catch on now.

"They were looking for you."

They should leave. Quickly.

'Did Connor attack him?', she asks. There's something outrageous about being indirectly accused when the overdesigned, half-finished successor was the one who broke into his evidence container, stole his work, then threatened him. It's also dangerous, because the answer comes before Connor can bring himself to interject, and if it'd been a lie, Connor's position would have swung right back to perilous.

It's time that he rejoins the conversation. He needs to control the way all of this proceeds.

"And they were looking for you," Connor points out, looking directly at the other android. "You may have passed the tracker on to me, but until now no one knew this. Why did you do?"

He's dismissing them as quickly as they appear, but it's starting to take more attention to hold back the errors steadily generating over his lost thirium and extensive damage. He's exhausted. He's getting weak. He locks his joints strategically and tries not to show any part of it.

Edited 2019-09-07 04:40 (UTC)

So the entire run in was just spectacular luck- good or bad, Sabriel can't say. When the RK800 asks, Sabriel pauses a moment before replying, squaring up her shoulders and turning to face him entirely. He's... injured too, although she can't tell the extent of it, beyond that he wasn't dying.

"We ran into an army patrol earlier," Sabriel says, choosing every word carefully. "They... mistook Connor for you, and they wouldn't listen when I said he wasn't a threat, or warned them about the Dead. So I incapacitated them and left with Connor." Apparently, she should have left some further form of explanation, because the army has taken her action in the worst way possible.

"If you received my message, then I hope you understand- my purpose is to stop the necromancer. And I need Connor's help to do it- I wasn't going to let them take him away." Not after she'd seen what the army do to androids, but saying that out loud would just irritate Connor.

He passed it on? Connor's eyes flash coldly at that... interesting application of blame. It does very little to make him trust the disavowal that follows, either. Of course his duplicate hadn't known about the tracker.

Not when admitting otherwise would inconvenience it.

The question that follows is a clear deflection—and one Abhorsen traipses blindly into. Connor stares at the wall in sheer frustration as she starts in on the excuses, and cuts in as soon as there's a pause.

"They'll have reinforcements coming. And unless you killed the ones outside—" he spares a skeptical glance "—they could end up in our way too." As soon as their friends get here to wake them.

"We should go."

"I see," Connor says, though what specifically he sees about Sabriel's explanation is unclear. Is it that she's sticking to her usual claims? Is it that despite not objecting to the sentience of deviants, she also sees nothing wrong with having a nondeviant android? Is it that she would fight an army just to keep what's hers?

The other android talks, and Connor's eyes flick between them.

"We should," Connor agrees. "However--"

He breaks off, hesitating. His eyes have gone to the holes in the other android's clothes, where bullets tore cloth and exoskeleton alike, and where her spells (spells?) re-sealed the hardware. His mind is far from the shined exoskeleton, and focused completely on the heavy component embedded between his own shoulderblades.

"... My tracker is still operational. If we leave now the way things are, it will only lead them to us."

His tone is even and cautious, and with good reason. They could decide his information isn't worth bringing him after all; they could leave him, and he could be forced to evade the army until Jericho finds him, hopefully alive.

"—I'm sorry," Connor cuts in, sounding precisely anything but that, "but I think you're misinterpreting."

Deliberately. His eyes flash, teeth cutting out the words. He takes a pointed step forward, interposing between Abhorsen and the deviant.

"We should go." Connor studies it, cursory and unimpressed: from the rotted arm to the damaged one, with all the lying, worthless errors in between. He looks back to his owner.

"It doesn't have anything of use."

Sabriel looks over Connor's shoulder- he's damaged. And apparently rather badly, if he's trying to leave with them, instead of going on his own.

Leaving him behind doesn't feel right, but Connor has a point- they need to leave, and if this android is the one with the tracker, the army won't be able to follow them.

It makes sense. She can practically hear Mogget hissing at her to get out. But it doesn't feel right, to leave a living being behind to face near-certain death.

"And your sure of this?" Sabriel frowns. She knows Connor- well enough to know he seems to hate this other android, and would probably be happy if he died. But enough to disregard useful information?

Connor's eyes snap to his counterpart, narrowing.

"Then you're deciding you don't want the information I withheld from my evidence servers?" Connor returns, every word like a thrown dart. His lips tug--it's the ghost of a smile, without actually being strong enough to from properly. "That's unfortunate, especially when you consider how much it concerns your case."

His eyes are still on his poisonous counterpart, but he's listening after the human, tracking her in his periphery. This is a dangerous gamble: not because he stands to lose anything from an android that apparently already rejected his deal, but because he knows exactly how dangerous humans are, and what it means to engage in deals or games with one. If he's not careful, he could just as easily provide her with motivation to force answers from him, rather than bargain like he hopes.

"It's lying."

He meets his predecessor's stare with his own: hard and flat, lip curling with the pronouncement. Lying, like 'I'll tell you everything I didn't upload'. Like 'you need to deactivate your tracker', or 'you passed it on' at all.

Connor had doubted the offer of information the first time it was made. And now that it's clear just how desperate and doomed his copy was?

"I'm sure."

The android is in a bad situation- Sabriel can see that much. He has every reason to lie, particularly since Connor isn't the type to offer mercy.

And Sabriel- what she wants doesn't matter. What she needs to do is stop the necromancer.

She can't help everyone she meets along the way, even if part of her wants to. Connor's right, they don't have much time.

"Then we need to leave now- I'm sorry." The look she gives to the android is something between sympathy and pity.

"Wait."

They're going to leave him. He won't be able to escape with his tracker. This means...

"I have leads." And why would she listen to Connor, when her own android says otherwise? Connor glances at him, yellow LED and the tension in his face belaying any attempt at calm, before turning back to her. "Four names, addresses, backgrounds--humans that have been directly connected to the necromancer's latest activity."

It's not working. She doesn't believe him, thanks to the other android's claim. A stab of hate and frustration bleeds through him, shocking in its depth, but he smothers it ruthlessly, affecting as much calm as he can.

"If that's not enough, we could make a different deal." There's a half-second of hesitation, because what does he have to offer? Jericho's resources? Himself? He's at the mercy of a human's whims again, and this has never ended well for his model series. Something caustic and acidic is threatening to distract him, like fear boiling up from a box shut deep inside his chest. He pushes that back, too.

"What would it take for you to help me escape?" he asks simply, spreading his good hand. "I could make it worth your while."

He doesn't want to die, and the stress of it is bleeding through at the edges. His LED won't stop blinking, and he's tense enough to snap.

"The same leads you promised in exchange for my help?"

They're going. At last. He steps toward the door, tracking Abhorsen in his periphery—silently urging her to match the motion. To stick to her resolve.

"If you knew something, you'd already owe it. Since you don't—"

Sabriel stops. Hesitates. And then speaks, her eyes darting to the mark on the android's forehead. She can't count on help from the mages in the army. And he's totally untrained. But perhaps...

"Help me kill the necromancer, and stop anyone else with similar abilities from desecrating your people's graves. If you swear to do this on your Charter mark, I'll remove the tracker, heal you, and teach you the spells necessary to accomplish this."

She's not sure if he even knows what the mark is, what it means he can do. But telling him to swear on it feels right, and she needs him both uninjured and knowledgeable enough about magic to perform the bindings.

The words spring up without his conscious instruction.

Mission Objectives:
>Assist in killing Necromancer.
>Stop Old Kingdom Necromancers from using dead android's hardware.

They hang there expectantly, waiting for his confirmation. Connor doesn't move: both goals lead to outcomes Connor would have already wanted, but--she didn't say 'neutralize the necromancer', she said 'help her kill him.' She didn't say 'prevent this specific set of individuals from desecrating the corpses', she said 'prevent anyone with these qualities'. For how long would this deal last? He could set aside a few weeks, maximum, but this doesn't sound like what she's suggesting.

Swear on his charter mark. Learn spells. He doesn't know what either of these means, nor what it would cost him. What's a charter mark? Is he capable of casting spells as an android? What would power the spells, and could he replace it after the fact?

The deal is a nightmare of loopholes, unclear phrasing, and unknowns. He's being offered everything he needs, but at a cost he can't gauge. What if he fails? What kind of contracts do people with her abilities keep?

"... I would need a charter mark to swear on it," Connor says slowly, as though he's still thinking about it. As though he has a choice in the matter.

Abhorsen stops, and doubt lodges in Connor's core: heavy and solid, fixing him in place.

She wastes very little time proving it justified.

She's going to remove the tracker. She'll teach the deviant magic, manage its repair—all in exchange for its service. Help her. Kill the necromancer. That's his mission she's working into their deal. She's giving his mission to the other Connor, when she'd said she thought he would succeed. What does this mean?

(What changed?)

His LED is spinning faster, but Connor keeps his face perfectly, mechanically blank. "Abhorsen—this is a bad idea. You can't trust it."

It's deviant.

Of course Connor objects. Of course he does. She's still not entirely sure what the root of the grudge between them is, and Sabriel pinches the bridge of her nose in irritation.

"Listen- if he betrays us or attacks either of us, you have my permission to do whatever you want with him." Hopefully that will make this easier to swallow for him- Sabriel's not sure why the other android would even try to back out of this, unless he's actually as much of a sadist as Connor is and better at hiding it. As for the other android... Sabriel taps her own mark.

"This is a Charter mark. It's a physical sign of your connection to the Charter- but now is not the time for explanations. Are you going to accept the offer or not?"

He locks on to the mark as its faint sheen brightens, comparing it silently to the way his own had looked in the dirty, cracked mirror at Jericho. It's a match. What's the Charter--

She needs a decision. He's out of time.

Connor holsters his gun without looking, then brings his one good hand up to his brow. He can't see it, but he knows the mark there brightens at his touch.

"I swear on my charter mark that I will assist you in killing the necromancer you've been tracking, and that I will stop similar necromancers from desecrating android remains. In exchange you will help me to escape with you, heal me, and teach me the magic necessary to accomplish this."

He holds his position for a second, half expecting the mark to react in some way, before lowering his hand.

He's taken the plunge, and if he's allowing himself a dramatic turn of phrase, it feels horribly like the moment after a knife sinks in, but before the pain hits and the damage is clear. He doesn't know yet whether this will be worth it, and whether any of them will even survive.

Hers is the next move. And then--they escape.

Edited (i said 'for an second' and I couldn't handle it) 2019-09-10 03:47 (UTC)

Whatever he wants. Connor's mouth opens to object to the suggestion. To remind her: what he isn't. That he can't.

...Then it closes. She isn't listening, and she wouldn't care to hear it if she were. Abhorsen has always made her preferences clear.

(But now more than ever.)

It's not his place to question her decisions. Or the role she plans for him to take. (At least he's useful as a threat.) His deviant predecessor swears acceptance of his task, and Connor watches: face expressionless, hands still and open at his sides.

His LED burns clear, flat gold.

"Very well." Sabriel's fingers wrap around Ranna's handle, but she doesn't move to unfasten the handle. The soldiers are still asleep, but for how much longer? She looks over to Connor, then towards the door.

"How do we get the tracker out?" Sabriel's not familiar with android anatomy. She understands, vaguely, that androids are built in imitation of humans, although not exactly- but she has no idea where the tracker is- in his head? or perhaps an arm?

Connor's functioning shoulder shifts, before he starts shrugging off his jacket, moving his bad arm as little as possible.

"The tracker is in my back, beneath my panscapular plating. It requires reaching behind a strut and overriding it manually." A strut he couldn't reach behind on his own, and an override he couldn't trigger spontaneously.

As he sets his jacket neatly down, not folded but also not in a pile, he produces a small pocket-blade from one of its inside pockets, then offers it to her.

"For lack of any better options... we can use this to override."

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