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

Five guards inside, two guards out front. Enough to handle the subjects and lock down the building, but not enough to deal with any substantial threat. Which means other forces must be on call in the event of an emergency.

...Connor is getting very sick of the Ancelstierran Army.

He's not in any condition for a fight. Not with his copy, not with Abhorsen, and not with the other humans or their countermeasures. Certainly, Connor is in no shape to fight them all. Critical Thirium Levels, and he can feel the window of escape narrowing, like a shutdown timer ticking down just out of sight. How long before reinforcements arrive? How long until Abhorsen leaves?

Fingers clack on the keyboard. A shift of motion, comes from the underside of a table. Connor's eyes flick between it and Abhorsen, expression tightening in a scowl.

"...Shit."

His glare sharpens... before the barrel of the rifle dips. Three strides and the weapon trains instead under that table—on a man with a cell phone active in his hand. He freezes. Connor doesn't. He pulls the trigger on a quick burst of automatic fire, shooting the device—and the man's forearm—to pieces.

Screams tear through the room. The technician collapses, sobbing—only to yell again, in pain and fear, as Connor plants a shoe on his ruined arm.

"Where is your thirium?"

"I don't—I—"

He's taking too long. Connor steps down, eliciting an agonized shriek.

"In—in the main room! The refrigerator, by the w—wall—"

It's enough. Connor twitches his rifle up and braces against the recoil. A sharp staccato, and this human's body slumps into a pool of sticky red.

Sabriel flinches as she feels the man die, but as unpleasant as it is, it's over quickly, and she forces down the surge of nausea.

Sabriel steps aside and towards- the other Connor, leaving Connor a clear path out of the room, and putting her closer to Connor.

The surviving technician looks up at her with fear, confusion- and some anger, even as she keeps typing.

"You're human, aren't you? Why are you helping them? They'll just kill you too!" Sabriel can see the woman's eyes dart from her to all the corpses in the room.

"Because Cyberlife decided to work with my enemy." And the necromancer is a far greater threat to the Old Kingdom than androids, deviant or not.

Connor turns to watch as the cellphone (and arm) are destroyed. Thinly healed wounds in his chest ache, and the gunfire starts again, and his chest feels like it's been caught up in a giant vice.

Fortunately for him he doesn't need to breath. He stops trying, tensing as the other Connor stalks away from the remains, doubling back towards him. Connor's own gun is pointed at the human, but most of his attention--most of his processing power--is taken up by the other RK800.

He leaves, and Connor resumes breathing.

"Your enemy?" the technician hisses. "Lady, this asshole is shooting your people right now! I don't know how you pick 'em, but you're definitely their enemy, whether you think it or not!"

Connor looks at the humans, eyes lingering on Abhorsen, but looks around not long after. The technician is still working, and Abhorsen--

--(She's more likely to argue than to agree,)

--Abhorsen isn't likely to listen to her, he doesn't think. There's two other humans in the room still in hiding, which leaves them with three immediately accessible hostages--not including technicians that might be in surrounding offices.

(They could stand to lose a few. It would be easier to control, and once he finds a way to call Jericho, the humans would die anyway.)

"You're not 'my people'." Sabriel says, "And if you want to stay alive, I suggest you don't try anything clever." And while she doesn't have much sympathy for this woman, she does hope this doesn't end with her dead.

Still when the woman opens her mouth again, and starts telling Sabriel that she's insane, Sabriel shuts her eyes, her mark flaring slightly as she selects a mark for silence and places it, delicately, on the woman's throat. She still keeps trying to speak- inhaling, opening her mouth, apparently trying to shout- but there's no sound.

"Connor- What do we do now?" She's not sure what their next step should be- do they look for another way out once they've found what they need, or try to break down the door?

Connor's eyebrows flick up minutely, but he just says, "If we've all been sealed in, then we may need help escaping. We should inspect what's changed at the exit, and send out an SOS." Maybe not in that order.

The technician's expression falls and her shoulders shake, and she steals a glace at the two of them. She mouths a couple of silent, disbelieving words, and when Connor looks at her she turns forward again quickly.

Connor returns to Abhorsen. "... We may be here for a while."

"So you think we should ask Connor for help?" It's not unreasonable- he's the only other person in the lab who isn't affiliated with Cyberlife. But will he want to help?

"... You should probably be the one to ask him." He'd refuse if Sabriel asked him. If Connor did... Sabriel doesn't know. And he'd be better at convincing the other Connor anyway.

"I'll check the exit and- the rest of the lab. Maybe there's another way out." She doesn't want to keep standing here, in this room surrounded by corpses, waiting to see what will happen next and feeling generally useless with technology.

He should ask him?

... Connor hesitates. He remembers the android's response to seeing her immediately post-deviation. He remembers the gun that didn't leave her a few minutes ago. The android has been threatening her overtly, and letting her hang back from now on is reasonable.

Except--except his insides feel like they're burning, like if he opens his mouth he'll breath flames. His paper-thin healings ache.

"Abhorsen," he says before she can turn. "Forming a temporary truce with the other Connor may be wise, but I would prefer it if you were present for that conversation."

His LED is bleeding red at its two-o-clock.

Sabriel hesitates for a moment, one hand reaching up to the spot on her arm where he shot her, even as she looks at Connor's suddenly red LED.

She wasn't the only person Connor attacked after he deviated though- the other Connor would have died if she hadn't been there.

"Very well. It's just- he's entirely justified in hating me. I think he'd be more willing to talk to you. Can you get in contact with your allies from outside? I doubt they'd like me very much, but maybe the lab is easier to unseal from outside?"

She touches her arm, she looks at his LED, and she acquiesces, explaining. The explosion hasn't disappeared, rising and falling, but the red is smothered out of his LED, and he curls his free hand loosely into a fist.

"I'll try to contact them," he says calmly.

(She's right. The Connor hates her, and will become belligerent and defensive in her presence--but Connor hates him, and hates the sense of diving into danger for an ally he doesn't want.)

(What would be better for the mission, and for androids overall? ... What would be better for him?)

(Do these intersect?)

Connor lowers the arm with the gun suddenly, pointing it at the floor. His jaw is tense, but his LED stays yellow, and despite his obvious displeasure, his tone is even.

"I can be the one to talk with him. I just need you nearby in case he attacks. Unless--" His LED blinks, and his eyes narrow.

"Can you teach me a spell that would subdue him in the event that it became necessary?"

He's unhappy with this, and Sabriel can't exactly blame him, but- they need all the help they can get.

"I could. The paralysis spell would be easiest- it's only one mark." She traces it out to show him, letting the mark hang in the air before dismissing it.

"Just put it on him physically if you're close enough, or-" Sabriel shows the motion she'd use to launch a spell at a target.

"And- you might need to reapply it if it stops wearing off. But you probably knew that already." Considering it's the same spell she used on him before.

"One mark," Connor repeats. She demonstrates. Off to one side, he can hear the typing at the computer stop, and the stillness of someone watching with full attention.

Sabriel speaks as Connor narrows his eyes, picturing the mark and experimentally adding a tiny glowing shape to a wireframe preconstruction. The invisible figure holds its hand forward, flicking sharply with a simultaneous push, and the glowing shape--weightless and frictionless in the simulation--flies forward.

"I guessed as much," he answers her absently, still focused. He glances to the side, and sure enough, the technician is staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed. He looks past her towards the screen, noting her progress. She's already at the screen he'd asked for, but there are other windows open, and it's unclear what she's been doing while he and Abhorsen had both been too distracted to notice.

Connor lifts his hand and acts out the preconstruction, charter mark glowing as the symbol forms. He gives it a sharp flick, and it flies forward with more lift than he expected--but it lands, just off center from the technician's forehead.

She freezes, eyes wide and shocked.

Connor studies her, then nods once, turning back to Abhorsen.

"She's finished finding the tracking data." He puts a hand on the computer's interface terminal, downloading the select files, and copying her access codes along the way.

"Are you still going to check the exit, next?" he asks, tone carefully neutral as his hand drops to his side.

He has the mark for paralysis now, and her presence could worsen the deviant's volatility--but the whole process wears at him in ways he can't describe. He doesn't want Abhorsen to be there. He doesn't want to do this alone, either. Every option is bleak, and sour.

It's probably unfair to the technician, but Sabriel can't stop the look of pleased approval that spreads across her face at Connor's spell.

"Just like that. Before we leave, I'll make her forget everything."

She should go check. But Connor seems... oddly neutral, and Sabriel pauses when she's halfway out the door, her expression suddenly uncertain.

"Connor- Do you want me to come with you?" She doesn't understand why- surely, Connor will respond better to the person who freed him, rather than the person who enslaved him. Unless the other Connor thinks Connor is unstable enough to attack him.

Connor opens his mouth to tell her the memory spell won't be necessary, that the humans will all be killed when Jericho arrives, or held as hostages. His eyes track to the technician, catching the way her face is straining with naked hope, and he closes his mouth.

(There's no point in making her suffer through psychological anguish before she dies. He's cruel when necessary, but right now it isn't needed.)

Abhorsen asks her question, and Connor's thinly-healed wounds ache, and his grip on his gun tightens, and his shoulders feel heavy. He disguises it all by holstering the weapon, then smoothing his oversized coat over it.

"No," he says shortly. "That won't be necessary after all. I'll contact you when I'm done."

He's better-healed and better-equipped. If he can't handle this task, then he has no business holding these missions to begin with.

"All right." Sabriel nods sharply, and turns on her heel. There isn't much more she can say, and she has work to do.

She needs to examine the exit- and possibly reinforce it, if they're going to hold out here. She'll just have to hope the other Connor is able to persuade Connor to help. And that help arrives in time.

This isn't going according to plan. But hopefully they'll make it out alive, without much more death, and with a better idea of where to find the necromancer, and strike when he isn't expecting it.

She's faced Kerrigor. She can face this necromancer, and the mess the Ancelstierians have made.

At first look, the main floor of the lab seems undisturbed. Prone bodies litter the floor from Ranna's passage, tools abandoned at their posts. There are no obvious signs that anyone's come through more recently.

...At least, to human eyes. Another RK800's scan might pick up the millimeters of displacement in the fridge door. The position of some of the unconscious forms has shifted more visibly, and both guards by the entryway are missing the spare clips for their sidearms. Another armored shape has vanished outright.

The scuff marks leading off from its position end in a small security room to the far side of the entryway. The windows are set to one way, dark glass impenetrable from the outside. But the door is open, and two shapes visible once in. Cyberlife's missing guard slumps, propped up in a chair, supplying biometric data to the system just in front. Connor sits on the edge of the wide desk, one skinless hand on the console.

His LED is blue—albeit blinking a little too quickly for true calm. The rifle he'd appropriated in the lab rests on the desk to his right. A glint of a familiar handgun shows at his side, and he glances to the door with no evident surprise. The wall behind the desk is a massive display, screens-within-screens displaying video feeds through the facility.... and slightly beyond. Connor eyes the other RK800 for a moment, before selecting one such image and enlarging it to center view.

"We've got company."

The feed shows the street outside: now, packed with trucks and personnel. A handful of flushed technicians speak rapidly to the commanding officer on site, gesticulating as they point toward the building.

Connor stares back at him, expression artificially blank and LED similarly blue. Only when the android looks away does Connor look past, and--yes, those are security feeds. One is displaying the lab he just left, where the technicians are laying where he'd caught up with them. He can clearly see the one that struggled, causing more damage to himself than to--

The other feed is selected and maximized. The street around the stairwell's exit is blocked off, and there are humans pouring out of a truck.

Connor's brow knits, and he forces back his caution, stepping up next to the other android. The humans are getting equipment out of their trucks. He counts how many and what they're holding, but the number keeps increasing.

... The humans will try to kill them. They're going to try soon.

"Jericho won't make it here before those humans finish setting up." Connor tears his gaze away, glancing at the other android. "We only have a few minutes."

Maybe they can break the controls on the barrier sealing them in. It wouldn't last, but it might buy them time.

Jericho. Connor's LED spins yellow, but he only gives a stiff, short nod. If Abhorsen's powers couldn't guarantee escape, Jericho would be the only chance they had. Probably, they wouldn't be as bad as the humans.

(He doesn't know.)

"...Longer, if you hadn't wasted time with those." Connor flicks a hand up toward the feed his copy had been staring at. His voice is dry, but his eyes linger on the other android's face. "Why didn't you kill them?"

The one accident aside.

"Jericho can't question them about their work if they're dead," Connor replies shortly, meeting his stare head on. It's not a lie. (They don't have time for this.)

"What are you going to do now?" They're in a security control room--Connor steals a glance, but there's no other clues suggesting the android was setting anything up before Connor arrived. (This doesn't mean anything, if he saw Connor coming.)

"You're deviant. Are you going to fight them?"

~~Or will he fight Connor and Sabriel instead?~~

"That's assuming your friends win."

That they win. That they do it before the other humans break inside. Not to mention, of course, how the technicians will help their allies if they do wake up. It's a risk he wouldn't have taken.

What is he going to do? The question loops, prolonging the gold burn at his temple until Connor forces it aside. The other RK800 meant right now. That's what both of them need to focus on.

"The humans?" It's as good a reason as any to glance sideways. He appraises the unconscious form beside him, a finger touching the pistol holstered at his waist. "Obviously."

They'll kill him if he doesn't. Connor thinks he's demonstrated quite conclusively he has no problems killing them first.

It hadn't been obvious. The android shot him for deviating him, tried to shoot Abhorsen, and the next thing they find is that he's here--Connor's jaw bunches, before he forces it to unclench.

(He'd been shooting humans. No longer shooting him. That's the part he should care about.)

"Truce. Until we leave."

(Connor can see the screens in his peripheral vision. There's one showing the inside of the facility, and a lone, tall human moving around--Abhorsen. She's not at the entrance yet, so for now Connor simply tracks her progress.)

The tension registers in his periphery, but there's no reach for a gun. And the last time this android had one, it wasn't aimed at Connor.

(The last two times.)

He nods absently. Notes the wording. He wants to ask what the RK800 means by we—but if Jericho wants anything from him, expressing fear at the prospect won't help him get away. The same goes for Abhorsen.

He eyes the figure on the cameras silently for several seconds. Then:

"...Did you want me to kill her?"

Tension coils around his eyes, the corners of his mouth, the major servo groups responsible for explosive motion.

"No. I don't."

Abhorsen owned the RK800, before. She frustrated his work, she put him in danger, she had him at her mercy with unclear and inconsistent intentions. He tried to shoot her as he left, and it's completely possible that the only reason he hasn't tried to attack her again has been a lack of opportunity--not a lack of motivation.

Connor needs her too much to let her die yet.

"She'd be included in the truce."

At that, Connor does glance over, eyes narrowed in a matching scowl.

"I didn't mean now."

Now, Abhorsen is useful. Is possibly their only chance of lasting long enough against the humans to escape. Whatever countermeasures the forces outside are preparing, they'll be designed for androids.

(And he's noticed how his counterpart has been behaving, too. They arrived together. Fought together. The RK800 supports her with no visible tension. It's different from how they were before—disconcertingly so.)

"Back at the house." Connor stares at the other unit, eyes flitting from one tell to the next. "Is that why you did it?"

... Oh.

The sour look is genuine, and Abhorsen isn't in danger from this. This isn't a taunt or a recruitment, it's a reconstruction of his intent--and it's not about Abhorsen at all.

For an instant Connor is tempted to withhold his answer out of sheer spite. He drowns the impulse with an image of the Connor before the bell and after. The hot coals in his chest bank sharply, and he feels full of smoke.

"No," says Connor bluntly, fighting the urge to glance towards the screen. "I did it to make things right."

...

The other Connor isn't lying. The blinking LED, the almost-flicker of the eyes away—all signs point to discomfort, not deceit.

That doesn't make the reply any more intelligible. Connor's frown deepens, irritated and puzzled. His fingers curl around the edge of the desk, tracing its corner.

"And that means...?"

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