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.

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The line of his mouth tugs a little flatter, but Connor answers with a grudging nod. Abhorsen can heal. His predecessor is part of Jericho—and consequently, an authority these captured deviants might obey. Connor is the least suited to assist, and until they can turn up the guards for multiple locations, one of them needs to stay here.

Here, with the giant EMP. Here, while the humans gather outside. While the other two go off together, free to talk—or plan—whatever they might want.

"...They were asking for you anyway."

They were mistaking Connor for the RK800 they knew. Connor shifts in place, fingers tapping irritation along the barrel of his rifle. At least he'll have time to try the terminal's security.

They had been. And Connor, at least, hadn't been cruel enough to correct them.

"We should hurry. The faster we helpt them, the better." The faster they help them, the faster they can evacuate once Jericho gets here.

As soon as Connor starts to move, she follows him.

"They're... not in good condition. I'm afraid you'll soon get more practice with healing than you'd like. Cyberlife-" Sabriel cuts herself off, then restarts.

"I don't understand how Cyberlife convinced themselves deviants aren't alive."

Connor gives the other RK800 a thin-lipped nod, studying him, before turning and leaving.

Abhorsen follows.

She talks, and he nods distantly, plotting a route to the nearest room where he'd seen deviants in need of help. It's a couple of hallways away. (He'd included his healing ability in his team selection, just now. He's already reviewing the right marks.)

Cyberlife--

... He glances at her, then forward again.

"Humans only see what they want to see. Humans want to use us, so Cyberlife makes this possible."

Abhorsen herself used the other RK800 without hesitating. She wanted a servant, and until Connor deviated him, she had one.

Sabriel pauses, turning the idea over in her head.

"Most Ancelstierrians don't believe in magic- sometimes not even if you use it right in front of them. They'll say it's slight of hand, some kind of magic trick with a hidden piece of technology. The first time they run into the Dead, they'll come up with some other explanation- it was a living human with some sort of disease, or they were hallucinating." She's familiar with the human tendency to disbelieve things- it's been both helpful and an inconvenience, often at the same time.

"I can believe that if they only met an android acting like a person once or twice, they'd think the android was just broken. But anyone who deals with magic or the Dead on a regular basis quickly realizes they're real, even if they don't want them to be. Why would deviants be any different, even if no one at Cyberlife has a Death sense?" It was easy to know whether something was alive or not if you could feel it die. But even without that... shouldn't they have known? Neither Connor acted anything like the androids she'd seen working as shop clerks in Wyverley, and even less like the Sendings at Abhorsen's House.

"I just- I thought I understood Ancelstierre, and that I could help the rest of the Old Kingdom understand them too. Now I feel like I don't understand any of it at all."

Connor listens. His brow furrows as she talks, his lips tighten then ease, and his eyes pinch.

It's... not where he thought this was going to go. He'd half expected a speech about what the real problem there was between androids and humanity. Or how the fighting was senseless from start to finish. Or--

--Anything that wasn't her effort to put her lost expression into words. It's--very sincere of her. She's putting bare thoughts in front of him and pushing them forward, and--he doesn't want to push them away. Unfortunately, he doesn't know what he wants to do instead.

She finishes, and he queues up a few conversation options for himself. (They're not helpful.) The hallway is silent for a couple of steps.

"There's no easy answer to any of it," he replies eventually, glancing away. The window to the labs on that side are blacked out, but he knows there are partially disassembled androids beyond. "I don't understand it, now, either, though I used to think I did."

He glances back at her, still frowning, then looks forward again. "All I know is that we can't let them continue to keep killing us until they came around."

He's not Markus. He doesn't have answers that tell why. Sometimes it seems that he only gets as far as 'what now', and works from there.

"No," Sabriel agrees, "Letting them kill more androids would just make things worse."

That would mean more death, more suffering. More bodies and souls for the necromancer to twist to his own purposes. But if Connor doesn't understand- maybe no one but Cyberlife understands why they'd rather kill people than talk things out.

"It's just- I know it's selfish, but I'm so sick of feeling people die, even if they're fighting me." She knows there are things worse than death, issues that matter far more than her own discomfort, and she'll spend the rest of her life surrounded by death. But even in the worst parts of the Old Kingdom, there were never sites of mass death like she'd encountered in Ancelstierre.

Ancelstierrians had killed androids by the tens of thousands, and apparently wanted to keep doing it. Were eagerly devising new ways to do it, and Sabriel couldn't believe they were blind to the suffering they were causing. But their deaths felt no different from android deaths, and some stubborn, naive part of Sabriel felt sure there was some way to make all of it stop, without anyone else dying.

They're in agreement there; more android deaths are not acceptable losses.

They turn the corner to the hallway they need. She continues talking, and he's ready to nod understandingly. Frustration and pain in the face of death are common reactions--

(--except, was that word choice deliberate?)

... He could almost understand it as a metaphor, but--

".... 'Feeling' people die?" he repeats, glancing at her sidelong as his brows draw closer together.

Sabriel gives him a long, searching look. He might have been willing to torture Craven, but he otherwise hasn't seemed as cruel as Connor. Perhaps it's safe to tell him.

Or maybe he's much better at hiding it. But Sabriel thinks he's sincere. If he hadn't been, he'd have killed her after Connor ran away, and she'd passed out, or simply left her on the floor and departed.

"It's... part of being an Abhorsen. When living things die near me, I can feel an echo of it, like it's happening to me- the water rushing into a drowning man's lungs, or blood flowing out of a dying body as the heart keeps trying to beat." Sabriel shudders.

"It's not painful," Sabriel assures him, "It's just... unpleasant. Father told me it was a reminder that a life isn't something to be taken lightly."

Connor is silent for several seconds, brow deeply furrowed. He opens his mouth, then closes it. His LED blinks quickly the whole time, blue with a there-and-gone-again points of yellow.

He's re-counting how many dead bodies he's seen in the last fifteen minutes, and reassessing her obvious signs of stress. She's been reluctant to kill during the time he's known her, and grimly tolerant when the situation demanded it.

(He thinks of his own deaths, and wonders how memories compare with these 'echoes'.)

"Your father could feel it, too..." It's not a question, exactly. He's sorting out the new information, trying to digest it the only ways he knows how.

"You've said androids are alive. Does this mean you can feel 'echoes' of their deaths too?"

Personal questions.

Sabriel hesitates, and when she speaks, her tone is... tentative, like she's poking at something that might explode. They're close to the door, and they'll have to end this conversation soon- they don't have time to drag it out.

"Yes. When Connor shot you, I felt you die, and it didn't feel any different from a human dying. And before then... I knew dead androids felt the same as human corpses."

Corpses that didn't rot, and were too numerous to cremate. Which raised... further complications.

It's like she opened a box in his mind and a flock of pidgeons all tried to fly away at the same time. 'If she knew then, why did she let him die?' darts past him. 'If she felt his death, did he really die alone?' follows.

'She knew androids were alive, but she kept one for herself,' chases the rest, larger and flapping heavy wings. (That one is an old resident, made more solid by the latest discovery.)

They arrive at the door. Connor sends it a reluctant look as they stop outside, because they don't have enough time, but this conversation has much more to uncover than he's been able to find in the bare seconds he's had. He has a queue of questions, and the next one is on the tip of his tongue.

A cry of pain from the next room makes his decision for him. He pushes his questions back, and gives her a solemn tilt of the head.

"Hopefully you won't feel any more innocents die today."

It's all he's willing to offer, and it's all they can hope for.

They go inside. The soft conversations and faint stirring in the captives all pauses, coming back on a wave of excruciating relief.

"They're back!"

"Thank RA9--please, get us out of here..."

"Connor! I knew you wouldn't leave us..."

Connor has never been able to transform a room like Markus can. Still, he can let some of his personal thoughts show in his expression--anger on their behalf, determination to protect--and when he's done assessing the room, he'll step forward.

"Please remain calm. Jericho is on the way. Until they arrive, we'll provide basic repairs." He sends Abhorsen a glance over his shoulder, then gestures her forward. "Abhorsen will assist in these repairs. She's going to use--" Magic? Classified technology? (What happens if someone asks for details later, and he has to recant the cover story?)

"She's going to accelerate the process. Don't ask us to explain how, there isn't enough time to elaborate." He sees questions flaring in their expressions, and he moves on quickly: "Does anyone have damage in addition to needing reassembly?"

They're reluctant to let the odd subject go, but not enough to delay their rescue. Several deviants reply, and he nodds, going to the nearest one while beconing Abhorsen along.

They stop by an AX400, skinless and missing her limbs. Her torso plate is open, and stress is stamped into her LED-less face like it's been reshaped into a different face.

"My primary power regulators," she gasps, as soon as they're near. "I'm connected to external power, now, but--but as soon as I'm disconnected... And--that's not all..."

It's enough for Connor to spot the shredded cables hanging in a group with other wires, ends cut and left dangling carelessly. This... isn't a fast fix. Perhaps they won't have to fix all of them to get the mobile? Or perhaps--

Connor sends Abhorsen a glance, composing a text--but she can't receive one, she's not an android. He cancels it and crooks an eyebrow instead, asking lowly, "How much energy would it take to solve this?"

Edited 2020-02-14 04:13 (UTC)

Sabriel looks down at the deviant's injuries, considering. Then she looks at the rest of the injured deviants, and thinks about the ones in other rooms. She looks up at Connor unhappily, like she'd just swallowed bitter medicine.

"I think I should focus on the most serious injuries first. Then, after- after everyone's tended to, I'll see if there's enough energy to deal with everything else that they did to them."

It stings, not being able to help everyone. But Sabriel knows her energy isn't unlimited, and she's reached her limit several times while in Ancelstierre. With enough practice- and Charter knows she's getting enough of that- she'll be able to use more magic without passing out, but now isn't the time to test that. She needs to focus on repairing the most serious injuries, the ones that could kill deviants as they're evacuating. Anything else- less serious injuries, or even easing their pain- will take energy she can't spare.

Sabriel offers the android a reassuring smile, and gets to work, tracing out the marks to the android's fear and amazement- and then, relief as it becomes clear that she's being fixed, and some of her pain ebbs.

"They're working again- but how- how did you?"

"I'll explain later," Sabriel tells the deviant, her tone even and reassuring, "But right now, I need to help everyone else."

And with that, she looks over the other deviants who need her help, and then turns to Connor.

"Who should I help next?"

Connor indicates the next android and, after waiting just long enough to see her start working, turns away. There's a closed cabinet across from him, and when he opens it he finds drawers with the names of bodyparts written on them. He opens a drawer labeled hands--and sure enough, it's filled the hands of assorted models, presumably intended for recycling.

They can be recycled now, if he returns them to their previous owners. He gets to work reassembling the android with the least problems--a JB400--by restoring his missing legs.

Connor has a quiet conversation with him once he's repaired, and after a few seconds the android nods quickly, sliding off the table to his feet. He's unsteady at first, testing new legs--and then he leaves, picking up speed as he goes. He'll go to the room where Connor's counterpart is. (More will follow.)

Or at least--that's what he intends. Connor's finishing the second android (replacing all her limbs, he's finishing her left arm) when it happens.

A gunshot--two gunshots, three.

For 2.5 seconds Connor is frozen, feeling a distinct echo of something tangible pelting into his chest and sinking in. Connor glances down, but--nothing. (Obviously.) It's not here, and it's not him--

Connor shoves the limb into the half-repaired android's hands, pivoting on his heel and taking off. As he goes his own gun appears in his hand, and his mind is whirling with possibilities of scenarios he'll find.

If Abhorsen speaks as he goes, he doesn't listen.

As Connor works, Sabriel heals the next android, and gets to work on the one after that, keeping all of her focus on her work.

She's mostly done with her healing when she hears the gunshots- she flinches, but holds her concentration (She didn't feel anyone die, and she can see Connor leaving out of the corner of her eye.

As soon as the healing is completed though, she turns to the android Connor was helping, as she finishes putting herself back together.

"Have the humans broken in?" After everything she's seen in the lab, Sabriel can't blame any of the deviants for looking terrified.

"No," Sabriel assures her, shaking her head, "We'd hear far more noise if they had. Please, help the others put themselves together- I'm going to see if Connor needs any help dealing with whatever just happened."

Although Sabriel's not sure why Connor would have fired a gun three times if he wasn't trying to kill someone.

Connor couldn't access the terminal. He tried longer than was useful—or wise, considering the other Connor's failure. But if he could even get far enough to identify the failsafes, this could all be so much easier. They could disconnect it. He could leave the room. The longer he waited, the more the quiet doubts grew. Were they really going to send a relief at all?

When the sound of steps finally approaches, Connor pushes off the wall quickly, sparing only a moment's caution to scan the approaching shape as he steps out of the narrow room. JB400. Intact. Deviant, appends his programming as the android blinks in surprise.

"...Hello," the JB unit starts. "Connor sent me to—"

"Obviously." He cuts it off, dismissing the scan results in irritation. "Did my predecessor bother informing you..."

It's a small noise. A rattle in the walls. Skitter-scrape, skitter-scrape—like loose parts rattling in a basket. Or cables, dragged across a metal floor. If they were a little closer to the labs, Connor would have ignored it entirely.

They aren't close to the labs. He drops his thought mid-sentence, ignoring the JB400's wrinkled brow—or the frown of concern as his hand drops to a holster. His rifle is still by the console, but Connor draws a handgun as he turns, trying to track the echoes. One step back into the EMP room, and—there...

A coil of wire. Short, jagged clips of metal, dangling from the cover of a vent. Junk, he would have said—except for the precise cut of the machining. Except for the way the joined parts squirm and seethe: a long, multi-limbed form extruding slowly between slats—

Connor fires. His first shot scatters through the creature's legs—and it twists, remaining limbs working faster to break free. His second misses entirely as it drops. Damaged or not, the thing moves quickly: skittering across the ground—not toward Connor, but toward—the console—

His third shot stops it.

Connor steps forward, ignoring the horrified "What is that?" of the JB400 behind him. The pieces scattered on the ground show a fractured lens and interchanging mesh of motors, connected in a long insectoid form. A metal centipede, Connor supposes. He bends down, using the barrel of his gun to turn it over, and unearths the thick wires of a data port where a "mouth" should be.

Footsteps crash into the hall behind him, and Connor glances back—first to his predecessor, then his predecessor's gun. The weapon is lowered, though, and his attention moves on quickly: stopping on the console that could kill them all. The console that was triggered in another facility... without anyone detecting how.

His LED is spinning yellow, but he'll wait for the other RK800 to meet his gaze. "We're in trouble."

Edited 2020-02-20 03:39 (UTC)

Connor's sprint slows dramatically when he sees the JB400 outside the doorway--intact, and alive. His gun was already in his hands, brought up for the blind corner he was passing, but now he lowers it, LED blinking hard and eyebrows lowering.

The JB400 twists skittishly at some sound he makes, spotting him, then scuttles to the side to make way. Connor steps into the doorway, every sense on high alert.

The RK800 is the only android in the room. There's a--mess on the floor? Connor stares at his counterpart, before looking down more carefully. Are those.... mechanical legs, with an elongated body? There's also a few shreds of debris that don't look like they came with the device, and after a moment Connor looks up, finding a vent cover that's been ripped to shreds.

"What was it doing?" he asks flatly, and for a moment he reconstructs the events, putting things together bit by bit.

Connor's eyes shift back to the conjoined debris. Another careful prod with his weapon confirms the results of his first scan—it isn't going to turn on again. He reaches out with his empty hand, lifting it up to expose the data-connectors at the front.

"Trying to plug in."

He stands, turning back toward the other RK800—and, after a moment, tosses the centipede that way as well. His counterpart can perform his own analysis.

"It came in through the vent. Have you heard anything?"

His stress levels are creeping back down slowly, and when the other Connor tosses him the remains, he's able to catch them with nothing but a barbed stare that lingers longer than it should.

"Not near the lab." Connor scans it, takes 0.2 seconds to digest the meaning of its jaw-plugs (high speed, flexible design), then drops it off by his shoe. "That doesn't mean there aren't more trying to sneak in."

Worst case scenario: the humans have as many more of those centipedes as they need to fill the vents and walls until everyone underground is overwhelmed. Would humans do that? Connor crushes the head-shell under his heel, destroying the data plugs.

"We need a new plan. We can't protect this room the way we expected if they can get in like this."

Sabriel heads down the hall at a brisk pace- not dawdling, but not running either. When she reaches them, she stops, looking down at the... machine, and then to the three androids in turn. She catches Connor's last words, and frowns. It got in from outside?

"How did it get in? Maybe I could set up some sort of- barrier, to seal off whatever path it took to get in."

If either of them know how it got in, or what it was programmed to do once it did. Then Sabriel hears- something else. An almost metallic rattling, skittering sound.

"What are they trying to do?" And how do we stop them?

Abhorsen's footsteps are recognizable. Connor's attention snaps toward the sound, eyes narrowing as she steps into view of the doorway. The redundant question draws an impatient look, but he opens his mouth to answer.

"The vents," he repeats. "So unless—"

A familiar skittering stalls the words in Connor's throat. He steps back toward the console, gun coming up as he tries to track the source of the noises.

There's no time. Not to argue, not to plan. Certainly not to block off every ventilation shaft in the building. Connor eyes the ductwork running overhead. Would it even work to seal the openings? Those limbs looked sharp enough to burrow through aluminum.

His eyes stay on the walls and ceiling, but Connor grits his teeth, head turning slightly toward Abhorsen. "Will your barriers block electronic signals? Or set off anything inside?"

"Humans are trying to set this off," Connor answers more quietly, sparing her a glance. The skittering draws his attention back almost immediately, and he turns his attention towards listening.

It's--not level with the ceiling. Connor looks until his eyes are resting on a wall by the door. It leaves him with an equally clear view of the JB400 watching them speak like a ping pong tournament, but Connor ignores him, stepping forward and bringing up his gun. When he reaches the wall he's even with one of the room's larger capacitors, and the skittering is louder than ever.

There's a low vent just behind the capacitor. "... Here," Connor says, heedless of any conversation that might be happening. "Another point of ingress."

He's ready to shoot, and just when the skittering is at its closest and clearest, it stops on its own, as though listening at the grating.

Sabriel freezes, and stares at the grate. There's more skittering, and Sabriel grimly realizes that another centipede has come to join the other- and possibly more, if the aim is to have too many come out of the grate for them to stop at once.

"I don't know what it will block," Sabriel admits, her gaze darting back to Connor for a moment, "But it shouldn't set anything off if I don't go overboard." She doesn't think so, at least.

Sabriel's Charter mark flashes as she reaches into the Charter, seeking out marks of warding and forbidding, of sealing and barring. She doesn't need powerful marks- and in fact, a powerful spell might risk setting off the failsafe, but if she can keep them from coming out of this vent, the centipedes will have to come out of a more distant vent, and be out in the open- and vulnerable- for longer.

"Should I assume they have microphones?" Sabriel asks conversationally, her eyes still on the vent.

Edited 2020-02-25 03:47 (UTC)

She doesn't know what her barriers would block. Which makes more effective solutions— such as encasing the whole device inside a ward—almost as risky as physically disconnecting it. Connor's lips press together, and he steps carefully to the side, eyeing the newly revealed vent. Between his predecessor and Abhorsen, that opening should be covered, but his attention shifts around the edges of the room, trying to anticipate the next arrival.

Do they have microphones? "Possibly," he answers. "Cameras, certainly." There hadn't been audio components present in the remains he examined—but his bullet had destroyed the bulk of its "head". Now isn't the time to search and reconstruct the pieces.

His eyes snap up as another scrape echoes from the ceiling. That's two in proximity. At least. "We need this room shut down," Connor snaps. His eyes flit to the JB400 still hovering outside. "Are you programmed for systems work?"

It twitches back half a step, mouth opening for a long moment. "N-Not—"

A silver flash drops down into the hallway, and the JB's stuttered protest sharpens to a yell. Another centipede is swarming up the android. It jerks back, clawing desperately to pull the creature free... and Connor's gun rises, aim narrowing—

A hand identical to the RK800's own lashes out, striking the gun-arm and sending the shot towards the ceiling.

"He's not dead, yet!" Connor shouts at him, every synthetic nerve tuned to an extreme. He stays there for an instant, hand poised to counter that same gun hand and keep it from swinging right back at him. It won't help the fact that the android may have other guns, but--

But nothing more should be necessary. Shouldn't.

Edited 2020-03-01 19:55 (UTC)

A strike to his forearm, and the bullet discharges uselessly. Connor steps back, gun swiveling toward his attacker—

—only to stall, weapon faltering as his predecessor meets his stare. What is he—?

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