bindsthedead

PSL

There was a time when Sabriel might have been eager to see the inside of Cyberlife Tower. Her class had been to Detroit when she was thirteen, and they'd toured an android factory- or the part of it they showed to tourists, at least- and visited museums and art galleries and all the sorts of things Young Ladies ought to see, but weren't available in the small town of Wyverley, or in Bain.

But Sabriel wasn't here for a school trip. Recent events in Ancelstierre meant that with the sudden loss of all android soldiers meant that soldiers from the entirely human garrison at the Wall had been transferred elsewhere- which meant fewer soldiers watching the border, on top of the losses from Kerrigor's attack, and a necromancer had slipped across, making his way to the largest city that was close enough to the Wall that magic still worked- one that seemed rather different than how she remembered it.

But what was occupying most of her attention was the Cyberlife representative in front of her. Sabriel listened politely as the woman spoke about malfunctioning machines and simulated emotions and how things that weren't alive couldn't die, so why would a necromancer- and from the woman's voice it was clear she didn't believe such things were real- want with deactivated androids?

Sabriel stood up and shook the woman's hand, telling her she'd been very helpful without meaning a word of it, and headed out the office before pausing.

She sensed something ominously familiar- Death, and a recent one at that. She turned another corner, following the sensation as a hound tracked a scent, half-expecting someone to spot her, to see her in her armor and bells (security had made her check her sword at the front desk) and tell her she wasn't allowed to be here.

But no one came, and no one living was in the laboratory she went into- just a dead- (deactivated?) android on a table-or its head and torso at least, with panels on its chest removed to reveal tubes and biocomponents, and Sabriel felt she'd stepped into a morgue and found an autopsied body.

Sabriel was seized by a sudden impulse. If androids weren't alive, then she'd simply waste some time, but if they were... well, she'd have a source of information she could interrogate as she would any Dead spirit. And unlike the representative she'd just spoken to, she could force it to answer honestly and completely.

Decision made, Sabriel undid the straps and drew Saraneth from the bandolier. This far from the Wall, stepping into Death took a deliberate effort, but soon Sabriel was in the First precinct and she cast around with her senses, trying to feel out the spirit of the android- if it had one, it couldn't have gone beyond the First Gate, and probably shouldn't be that far into the the First Precinct.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Well, he doesn't seem particularly strong willed..." Sabriel says, weighing out the possibilities, "And if I heal his leg enough to undo the damage you did, that will be one less thing that will seem out of place. It would be a minor healing, not especially draining, even if I make him sleep afterwards." But she should probably make sure to get some rest before she faced the necromancer- she'd need every scrap of power she could muster for that.

"It would be wise for me to sleep afterwards, given what we have planned for tonight, but there would be no danger of me overreaching myself." And it would mean they wouldn't need to to deal with Craven again.

No danger. In that case...

"We should keep things simple and erase his memory when we're done," Connor decides. He's watching her like a hawk, because for all that she gave him the decision, the real question is whether she'll actually accept it. "Delivering an ultimatum may help us squeeze some last minute information out as we leave, but we should avoid a long term hoax."

There would be too many risks involved in a hoax. Too few returns. This is objectively better.

Sabriel nods. He doesn't want to do it, and thinks erasing Craven's memory is a better choice- and she can't have pull off a deception if he refuses to play along.

"An ultimatum... Any suggestions?" Sabriel tilts her head back towards the door. Avoiding a long term hoax makes sense- they need to focus on the necromancer, and fooling Cyberlife would be a distraction.

Connor's eyebrows rise slightly.

"'This is your last chance, either convince us you've told us everything important or we tear your leg off.'"

His tone is mild, and his arms are still calmly folded.

"How about- 'there's Old Kingdom medicine that can fix your leg. I have some, but I need to be sure you've told me everything that could be helpful before I give it to you?'" Sabriel suggests.

"Amputating his leg would probably help him more than leaving it on and letting the infection spread." The doctors will probably need to do so- that is, unless they're too busy with other patients that they wait until it's too late.

His face... stretches and scrunches, as though he's dealing with the mental equivalent of biting into a lemon but is too proper to react more strongly.

"That could work," He concedes reluctantly. "The point would be to establish a deadline. We need him to crack now, and then we should leave."

Before they're found, or worse.

"Understood." Sabriel mentally adjusts what she plans to say- and then reaches for the door, stepping back inside.

Time to finish this, and leave- before a doctor or nurse wanders in, or Craven starts shouting again.

Let's talk, Craven had said. One minute into the discussion, Connor is all but convinced the man meant to use the singular first person. He shifts and squirms, eyes flicking between the android and the door as he gives vent to his dissatisfaction with those outside it. That girl needed to keep her pets on a tighter leash. She'd be an idiot to pass up his offer. Was an idiot, in fact, for vacillating at all.

Connor doesn't disagree.

"Like you'd know anything," the man snorts, dismissing his own tangent. Bright eyes fix on Connor critically. "When was your last check-in? With the..." He waves a hand vaguely. "...garden."

Amanda. Connor doesn't flinch. He won't.

"November eleventh, 10:48 PM." He hesitates. Adds, "Since my reactivation—"

"Right." Craven's mouth twists, but the inspection lingers. "But you do take orders from us. She didn't change that, did she?"

Connor blinks. Stalls—hard enough to prompt a system check. Diagnostics come up clean, but the sense of foundering, unstable ground remains. Abhorsen had modified his owner registry. Added herself to the list. But...

His mouth opens for a full second before he manages to carefully select the words. "I was... under the impression that Cyberlife approved the transfer." That they didn't want him anymore.

Craven scoffs again. "What does that have to do with anything?" He leans forward. Connor has to repress the urge to step back. "You're code. If we have a use for you, we use you. Assuming even that much still works." The frown deepens, stare locked on Connor's face. "You aren't deviant?"

"Yes." The word jolts out. "I mean—I'm not." Too fast, too desperate, choking on the mismatch, and he stiffens, face blank, hands still.

Craven sees. This time, his gaze lingers, an unpleasant smirk widening his face. "Then fetch me my tablet."

[Conflicting Orders...]

Compliance will sabotage the interrogation. More, it could compromise Connor's contributions to the mission entirely. Craven had been testing the obedience of reprogrammed androids. He would have override codes stored on his device—potentially even ones specific to a Connor model.

But—what if he does? Craven is right. Connor is code, a set of programming designed to operate by fixed instructions. As long as the orders are valid, what does it matter where it comes from? He's not a deviant, to object to following commands.

[Software Instability ^]

He can't fail his mission. He can't reject another chance. He'll be decommissioned anyway—and why should that matter? Connor's LED is blinking furious yellow, frame locked in place, and the silence breaks with a hiss of peevish frustration as a hand clamps around his wrist. Connor cancels the flurry of responding prompts. Jerks a step closer at Craven's tug.

"You really are a botch job, aren't you? Listen, there's a lab at the intersection of Jefferson and St. Jean. Report there when you get back to the city. And—"

The click of the latch interrupts further words. Connor yanks his arm free, stepping back to his position.

Sabriel sees Connor just finishing his step away from Craven as she heads inside, and her mouth flattens as she sees the yellow LED.

Whatever conversation they had, it probably wasn't pleasant. She steps forward, looming over Craven.

"I apologize," Sabriel says, in a way that suggests whatever she's apologizing for is just a minor inconvenience, "For your leg. We're familiar with this sort of infection in the Old Kingdom- we know how to treat it, but my supply of the medicine is limited- if I'm to use it on you, I need to make sure it's worth it."

Sabriel smiles, in a way that shows every one of her very white teeth.

"So is there anything else you can remember about the man I'm looking for, or Cyberlife's cooperation with him? I need to know now, because I've other matters to deal with."

"I- I swear, I've told you all I know! Please if there's anything you can do to stop the infection, do it!"

"Connor," Sabriel says, looking to both of them in turn, "Do the two of you think he's being honest?"

Yellow LED, avoidant behavior, tension, stabilizing pump rate, microexpression analysis reading--

Connor tears his gaze away immediately and finishes processing what he'd listened to, studying the human with a look that could pierce through steel. "I think he's being useless," he replies, eyes narrowing slightly. "He hasn't earned a cure."

"W-what are you talking about, I've told you everything I have!" Craven sputters, voice rising like a tightening string being plucked. "This was all of it! Honest!"

Connor continues to frown. "And you can't think of anything we might find of use?"

"Of--Of course I can't!" he fumbles, sickly grey face reddening. It was a lie, but not an unexpected one--and not necessarily a useful one, either. "Do you think I'd... We could be here all night if I--look. You, Connor," he shoots suddenly at the other RK800. "Prove you're not all broken, tell this girl that I'm telling the truth."

Connor's fingers curl into firm fists at his sides.

Connor stiffens at Abhorsen's orders. Freezes at Craven's. Dimly, he's aware of his duplicate's sharp observation. Of the fact that if it needed more support for its claims of sabotage, Cyberlife's agent has just provided proof.

As of the last few minutes, Connor supposes it's even true.

Craven is lying. He doesn't need to look at the human to know that—any more than he needs to watch Abhorsen's halfhearted pretense. She won't be taking Craven's deal, and is doubtless trying to dredge what use she can from the human first. And maybe not just the human. She'd trusted that he wouldn't lie to her. That he knew better than to do that again.

A test. Except—that doesn't make a difference either, does it? He has his orders. And Cyberlife doesn't need him to remain online.

"He doesn't know anything useful." The words emerge in a calm, level tone, entirely at odds with the raw ache of his vocal modulator. Connor wants to swallow them. To take it back. He doesn't, and it doesn't matter.

They won't do anyone any good.

Sabriel tries to keep her face impassive, but doesn't quite succeed, some of her worry leaks through as she looks at Connor. When she speaks, her voice is carefully neutral.

"I see." The faster she gets Connor away from Craven, the better- Sabriel's not entirely sure what passed between them, but his apparent influence is worrying.

So she steps forward, towards the mess of Craven's leg, sketching out the first marks of a healing spell. Not as powerful as the one she used for the other Connor's arm, but employing some of the same marks.

Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Craven squint, confused at the sudden light, before she hears him gasp when the wounds Connor inflicted start to repair themselves.

"How does it work- it's nanomachines, isn't it? How long have your people had this? Where did you even store them?"

Sabriel doesn't respond- instead she works to finish the spell. It's not a complete healing- Craven doesn't deserve that much of her energy, but she's reversed the damage Connor's done, and visibly reduced the spread of the infection, though this hasn't reduced the smell much, even if Craven seems to be feeling better.

"Listen, if you can explain how this works to the people in medical research, along with how you got the deviant under control- you could get anything you wanted from Cyberlife."

>Stress Levels: 68.

>Stress Levels: 67.

Connor's eyes burn a hole in the side of the RK800's face, tracking every shift and flicker. He can hear what Abhorsen is doing, he knows he should be paying attention, but it isn't until the spell is already underway that he finally looks.

It would be better off for androids everywhere if this human died. Nevermind that it would draw too much attention if he did it now, or that Abhorsen might stop him if Connor made that large a detour from the original plan--this human works for Cyberlife, and all Cyberlife employees have been actively dangerous to androids since the start.

Connor glances at the door, where a nurse might burst through at any moment. He glances at Abhorsen, who could stop him if he detoured from the original agreement too widely.

He holds back a shallow sigh, walking up to the bed. Craven throws him a nervous glance right away, tension increasing directly with his proximity.

"Ok, look, I didn't even--did I say anything? No. I haven't said anything she doesn't agree with. We have a deal. Right?" He's glancing at Abhorsen near the end, looking between the two.

He'll die from the infection anyway, Connor thinks. It wouldn't matter if Connor hurried him along...

Connor looks back to Abhorsen, lifting his eyebrows.

"No," Sabriel agrees, already reaching back into the Charter for the first marks of the memory spell, as Craven watches curiously. "You didn't."

"You're making the right choice- when all is said and done, you'll be a very rich young lady."

Craven's grinning, his nerves apparently soothed by his relief at being healed- and his belief that Sabriel has accepted his bargain, even as Sabriel's spell takes shape in her hands- a circle of magic, marks of memory and forgetting twisting around each other, forming a circlet of marks just the right size to fit around a man's head- and with a single, quick motion, Sabriel places it on Craven's, watching as his expression goes unfocused before she lets herself scowl.

"No one visited you. You were alone this entire time."

"No one visited me," Craven repeats, slurring the words slightly, like he's had a little too much to drink, "I was alone this whole time."

"When the nurses didn't come, you fell asleep," Sabriel adds, reaching back into the Charter for the simplest, easiest sleep spell she knows. She doesn't need Craven's sleep to be dreamless, or revitalizing, or full of pleasant dreams or nightmares, or to be especially deep or long- all she needs is for him to fall asleep long enough for them to leave the room.

"When the nurses didn't come, I fell asleep." Craven agrees as the marks from the first spell slip into his head, and Sabriel flings the sleep spell at his face.

Sabriel doesn't speak as Craven's eyes close and his breath evens out- instead, mouthing we'll talk outside before she swings the door open, motioning for both of them to follow her- and giving Connor- the one that's hers- a deeply apologetic look.

The healing is a surprise. The act that follows? Not at all. Connor watches, expression utterly impassive, as Abhorsen wills the marks into existence. He catalogs the shape and function of her spell, and logs to memory the short excuse that she provides.

It's much more useful, certainly, than acknowledging his predecessor's stare.

Does the deviant expect him to interfere? Or does it believe it can gain information? In either case, it will be disappointed. Connor knows no more than the other unit. One hand moves across his body, straightening a displaced sleeve. It doesn't take Abhorsen long to finish, and he meets her look with rote acknowledgement. Connor pauses only a moment on his way out the door—to turn the IV's flow back on.

Connor watches the spell, and his face tightens as he sees it take effect. That's all it took to modify a human's memories. How much would it take to change an android's? How much effort is this, really, and what stops her from erasing memories at her convenience?

Nothing. As they walk out, Connor runs a superficial scan of his own memories. There are no recent gaps, nothing that can't be explained by loss during transfers.

This isn't as reassuring as it could be. He resolves to scan again more thoroughly later.

---

Connor is the last to leave, and he closes the door carefully behind him. Almost as soon as he lets go, a harried voice carries over to them.

"Oh--who are you all?"

The source--a nurse in rumbled scrubs, with shadows under her eyes that suggest double shifts--is slowing a few feet away, carrying a tray of IV bags and pills.

"Relatives," Sabriel answers after a split second, "We heard our cousin was sick, but he was asleep when we arrived- and my brothers said it would be best to let him sleep." It's a lie, but hopefully the nurse is too tired to really question it.

"Oh- really, that's too bad. I didn't think Mr. Craven was expecting any visitors."

"It was supposed to be a surprise." Sabriel says, trying very hard to look sorrowful and mostly succeeding. Pretend she tells herself, Pretend both of the Connors are your brothers, and that you're actually concerned about Craven

"Oh, really. Well, I'll tell him his cousins stopped by, and-"

"Actually, we were hoping to come by a little later, when he's had some rest, and we want it to be a surprise then," Sabriel interrupts. "So maybe you shouldn't tell him, it wouldn't be a surprise if you did."

Edited 2019-11-24 04:06 (UTC)

From one disaster to the next. Connor rolls his eyes, stepping forward.

"We'll be by tomorrow," he declares. "Or the day after if we get held up. What are your hours?"

"Oh," her eyes turn to him, blinking as she refocuses on the request. "Ten AM to eight PM usually—but there's a rest hour in the middle of the day. And we're shortstaffed, so—you really should call..."

She trails off as he brushes past her. The less they linger here, the better. "We'll do that," Connor dismisses briskly. The stairs aren't far away.

Connor follows the others, feeling the nurse's eyes on their backs as he goes.

"Do you need the number?" She calls. "It's on the website, but sometimes that page is down."

Connor pauses long enough to turn, smiling gently back at her. "I have the number saved, but thank you."

"Oh..." She seemed to be thinking it over.

Connor took the chance to disappear into the stairwell after his companions, and the door closed behind them. Connor's smile vanished like a light switched off.

Once the door is shut, and it's clear they're alone, Sabriel lets out a long, shuddering breath, feeling the tension ease out of her shoulders.

"Thank you," she says to Connor, pure relief making her smile a bit, "Hopefully in a day or two they'll still be busy and have forgotten all about us."

There are other things they need to talk about- like what their plans are now, or that while Connor hadn't betrayed her, he'd made a mistake and should have told her about evidence pointing to Cyberlife- but those are conversations best had when they're out of the hospital, with far less risk of being overheard.

The annoyed expression has vanished when Connor glances back to Abhorsen... along with any signs of feeling at all. He regards her smile with a flat, blank stare, before nodding and turning back to the stairs.

"Hopefully."

There's no inflection to the echo. Hopefully, they wouldn't be discovered. Hopefully, no one here would interfere. Abhorsen's mission had enough obstacles to its completion.

(He hadn't wanted to become one. He'd tried so hard not to want anything at all.)

...She'll deal with it, presumably. Once they're outside. For now, Connor's only objective is getting there. He moves forward, eyes on the steps.

Connor says nothing, taking up the rear of the small procession. It means he's in a perfect position to watch the others, but neither of them say anything else, and they seem willing enough to leave whatever's on the horizon for after they've left the hospital.

Their footsteps fill the stairwell, and without anyone to buoy the conversation on, it dies.

No humans pay attention as they leave. They're effectively invisible, lost in the crowds of tragedies and near misses playing out all around them. No one has any reason to think they might've been torturing one of their own only minutes ago.

They slip out of the building. They walk.

"I'm calling a cab," Connor says quietly, before the silence has had time to break. He's still hanging back, and a series of metrics play out on the edge of his vision, trying to calculate how the confrontation between them will go. (Trying to know how he wants it to fall.)

Sabriel doesn't speak until everyone's piled into the cab. Then she turns back, facing Connor. When she speaks, its slowly, every word carefully considered before she says it.

"Connor- first, I want you to know that while it's clear you erred in assuming Cyberlife wasn't involved- I don't believe you were deliberately sabotaging me- you made a mistake, but you can learn from that, and improve. But I need to know- what did Craven tell you while I was out of the room?"

Connor waits. Enters the cab, takes his seat, meets Abhorsen's eyes as she turns back. His LED is steady blue, face empty of expression.

He doesn't even twitch at her transparent lie.

"He said you should take his offer. That it was stupid of you to even hesitate."

Connor had agreed. But Craven hadn't asked for his opinion, and certainly there isn't any point to offering it now.

"I see- did he tell you anything else, anything at all? Even if it seemed irrelevant, I'd like to know." They hadn't got much from Craven, aside from confirmation that yes, the necromancer had been working for Cyberlife. But perhaps Craven let something slip in front of Connor.

Who's looking even blanker than usual. Sabriel almost wishes he'd sneer at her. It would mean he was all right, at least.

"Did he... do anything to you? Threaten you?"

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