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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Connor doesn't say anything, but Sabriel keeps talking. She's not sure if she could stop, even if she wanted.

"I was- stupid. When you attacked Connor- I thought Cyberlife was making you do it. And I knew you were lying about being a machine, but- I thought you liked getting orders, if they were the orders you wanted. Except now I realize you probably hated all of it."

She's practically curled up into a ball right now, her chin resting on her knees.

"And- even if you made it clear you didn't like me, when you were there, I wasn't alone- except that wasn't fair to you, and I should just- accept I'm going to be alone, until I get back to the Old Kingdom."

Connor was a machine. Is a machine. But now he's malfunctioning—failed, finally, past any chance to be repaired. He stares at the door, LED pulsing slowly: gold, red, gold. It's a relief, he thinks. It is and it isn't.

He doesn't contradict Abhorsen. Her misunderstandings are the best defense he's had, and he can't think of many worse mistakes than damaging them now. Assuming he even could.

"You should," he agrees. It would make things much easier. Unless, of course...

Connor hesitates, but—he's been curious.

"Did you bind my predecessor?"

"I will. I'm not a child anymore, and I-" Sabriel goes silent as she processes what Connor says next.

"No!" It comes out more vehemently than she expected, and Sabriel straightens up. It's probably unfair, but she's... offended.

"I didn't do anything to him. After you left- I told him he could consider our deal dissolved if he wanted. He told me the necromancer was still a threat- so our deal was still on." And she's fairly certain he won't linger a moment longer than that. Not that she can blame him.

Didn't do anything is demonstrably false. When Connor had left, the other RK800 was bleeding out on the floor. But if she really did stop at healing his double...

"Then why are you whining about loneliness?"

It's annoying. No, stupid. "He—It—"

...Connor freezes. Stares ahead. Swallows, and tries again.

"It's staying with you. Apparently of its own choice."

Abhorsen could be lying, of course. She's just very bad at that. Whatever she has or hasn't done to his copy, he doubts she considers it binding, at the least.

Edited 2020-05-26 01:05 (UTC)

"He." Sabriel intones. "And- I think so? It's clearly not because his friends told him to. And- I'm not in a position to turn down his help."

Even if he asks for more in exchange- except he hasn't. He's stuck by the terms of their original agreement, despite... everything.

And if he sees the Dead as a true threat, he's the only real ally she has in Ancelstierre. Jericho doesn't recognize the Dead as a threat, and the army has apparently decided that killing androids is more important.

Connor scowls, swallowing the urge to insert another 'it' out of sheer spite. She doesn't get to tell him how to speak. Or anything else, for that matter.

"Then it sounds like you've got everything you wanted."

"What I want doesn't matter. But things could be far worse."

They could be dead, or captured by the army, or the necromancer. Instead, they're being held by people who want none of them dead, and will hopefully release them to go on their way.

"But- Connor, what do you want?" She's asked him this before. Hopefully, this time he'll give her an answer, instead of just saying he's incapable of wanting anything and looking at her like she's an idiot for asking.

Admittedly, he's probably looking at her like she's an idiot right now, she just can't see it.

Probably? Definitely. His eyes have been turned toward Abhorsen's wall for a while, and her new bout of self-pity only sharpens the loathing in his glare. She just admitted to keeping him to satisfy her wants—and now that they're satisfied, she trots out this?

What a convenient time for 'selflessness'.

"I want you to cut the bullshit." The words hiss out, sharp and angry.

There's a long pause before Sabriel speaks. She's not even sure if she should, but the words press in her throat.

"Fine- I have at least one ally, and while I'd prefer it if the army and Cyberlife weren't after me- I don't regret doing what I did to set them on me. But I still owe you a debt, and I want to settle it." And she's not entirely sure how, or what kind of payment Connor would even accept.

...There it is.

The pause returns, long and silent. In part, Connor's swallowing back acrid commentary: did that much honesty physically hurt? She exercises it so rarely. But still, Abhorsen insists on that 'debt'. Admits she wants to settle it.

Wants, not needs. For herself, not as a favor. Not something for him—leverage, or maintenance of a resource. No, this is a human serving her own self-centered whims. Checking off an arbitrary box so she can think more highly of herself.

It's pathetic. But not useless to him, either.

"...Fine," Connor cedes. "I'll think about it." She's just told him she can't do anything right now; delaying shouldn't make a difference.

(He eyes the wall, half-expecting a protest anyways.)

"All right." There isn't any need to say more than that, and Sabriel shuts her eyes and sinks back into her cot. Connor will come up with some way she can pay her debt, and the other Connor will explain things to Jericho. There's not much she can do now but rest and wait.

Even the obnoxiously bright lights can't stop her from drifting off- within a few minutes her breathing is steady and even as she sinks deeper into much needed slumber.

Hours pass.

The cell's harsh lighting stays on, uncaring of the human's obvious desire for sleep. The light fixture hums faintly, the guard in the hall makes no effort to be quiet during her regular patrols.

Eventually footsteps come to a crisp stop outside the cell, this time with a longer stride, with crisper shoes.

They wait.

... When nothing stirs in the cell, there's a polite, measured knock on the class.

(Pause.)

A careful, "Abhorsen," called, in a familiar voice. The manners involved are familiar too, and telegraph at least as much as the voice's timbre itself.

(Pause.)

(There's still no response in the cell. Connor can see that she's breathing deeply and evenly.)

"Abhorsen..." he calls slightly louder. "Are you awake?"

(Pause.)

(No answer.)

His hand is still resting on the cell window, he considers hammering against it. Shouting. Finding some strident alarm that would force her awake.

Connor lowers his hand slowly, and his shoulders rise and fall in a silent sigh. Her condition may answer at least two of the questions he'd wanted to ask her, but that leaves him stuck where they are until she's been debriefed, let alone released. (Assuming Jericho releases her.) Connor has already been debriefed, and he's already answered everything the technicians in sick bay asked of him. He's already taken the time afterwards to regroup, switching out his damaged clothes for cleaner ones without bullet holes. He's resupplied.

He can't leave without Abhorsen. She can't leave unless she's been debriefed, and she obviously hasn't done this yet. He'd vaguely wanted to speak, but he's disinclined to pound the glass in a way he's confident would wake even the most comatose of subjects.

... They can't leave until she's been debriefed. Isn't there anything else productive that Connor can do?

Without calling again, Connor turns, then leaves. He has contacts to check in with, and... food to have sent to her.

---

When Connor comes back, there's a bottle of water and a few bags suitable for a vending machine waiting just inside the door of her cell. Abhorsen herself is still sleeping.

Connor goes to the cell window, and this time his tone dips mulishly. Any hesitance he might've had before is now gone.

"Abhorsen, wake up."

Sabriel twitches awake, what she was dreaming about already slipping out of her mind (Whatever it was about, it wasn't pleasant.) She's confused, for a moment, blinking at the bright lights until she remembers where she is and what happened.

"Connor?" She asks blearily, sitting up and blinking away the last bits of sleep, "When did they let-" Then she stops- this isn't the Connor she thought he was, and she doubts Jericho would ever put one of their own in a cell. She takes a few hesitant steps toward him. She feels- better, she realizes. She must have slept for hours, at least. She grabs the water bottle, suddenly realizing how thirsty she is as she takes a deep drink.

"I'm awake. What's happened, can we go now?" The necromancer isn't wait. And she needs to get her bells back, and go get her sword before she can do anything.

"Where's Connor- the other Connor, I mean. Did they let him leave already?"

This time she stirs immediately. After some initial disorientation, she sits, speaking--then cuts herself off, though not before it's clear what her mistake is.

(His lips thin as he realizes what she meant. Still, she corrects herself, and is it fair of Connor to resent the confusion when most androids share appearances with thousands of counterparts? No. He shouldn't be irritated at all, except by the reminder of the counterpart himself.)

Speaking of him, the cell beside hers is as empty as it was the last time he arrived. He's been watching as he's moved from place to place, but there's been no sign of him where Connor can see. Has he left? Connor feels--

"He's not in this cellblock," Connor says, severing the line of thought like a snake from its head. "They may have finished by now."

"Has anyone spoken with you about debriefing, yet?"

Sabriel gives him a guilty, apologetic look as she sees his lips thin, and she makes a mental note to be absolutely sure which of them she's talking to in the future.

"Not that I know- I've just been sleeping." And she feels much better for it. Sabriel rips open one of the bags- potato chips, this time- and eats a few- then a few more, as she realizes she was hungrier than she thought.

"Did they ask you to do it?" It makes sense. Connor, more than anyone, would know the right questions to ask, and is the only person here she knows.

"They'll be wanting to talk with you directly," Connor says, shaking his head. His gaze drops for a moment, because there was a tangible weight to realizing how deeply they thought he'd been compromised, and how shaky their trust really was.

He shakes himself internally, trying (without success) to banish the feeling. "They need to corroborate what I've said," he continues, bringing his eyes up again. "Until they're certain, it's practical for them to interrogate us separately."

"But- they listened to you, didn't they? About magic, and the Dead, and the necromancer?" Or will this be like her dealings with the army all over again- dealing with people so focused on their own mission that they won't listen, even when their own allies are warning them?

"I understand that it can be- hard for some people to believe those things, if they don't have first hand experience, but if the necromancer isn't stopped-" If the necromancer isn't stopped, they'll all be dead, or forced to flee south into human controlled territory. And Sabriel understands now what the humans will do to them.

"They listened." To a degree. He shakes his head, waving a hand as though brushing his mind clear. "There was already evidence of the Necromancer's work before I encountered you, and I was able to show them a few basic spells. Those basic points aren't the problem."

Should he tell her? It would give her time to prepare. What would be better, for Connor's friends to have an unfiltered look at her obviously unprepared reactions, or for her to have answers ready to speak concisely?

... If they want a raw reaction, Connor has full faith that his friends can find one. "They're concerned that I might be compromised. I'd told them about the bell after you used it, and some of my actions have seemed puzzling since then."

Edited 2020-06-07 04:57 (UTC)

Sabriel looks at Connor like he just slapped her. When she speaks, her voice is louder than she intends it to be.

"But I haven't done- anything to you! And it's not- not something I could do without knowing I did it!" She'd never used Saraneth on him. And even the first time, with Connor- she might not have known how she'd altered his programming, but she knew Saraneth had put him under her control.

"I- what are they worried about? They can just- ask, and I'll explain everything."

Connor is silent for a moment, watching her, and her distress.

"... They're worried that you may have deliberately altered my behavior to favor you over my android companions," Connor answers finally, stressing key words as though he's trying to explain something difficult. "They're worried that you're using me, so they're comparing my accounts with the other Connor's, and soon yours."

"They're going to ask you what you've done." He opens his mouth to continue, then pauses, struggling. She's surprised that Jericho would suspect her of using the power she has, like she doesn't know that every human that's ever had power was likely to use it.

"... Be honest," Connor manages. "And don't be surprised if they assume the worst." He considers smiling, but instead narrows his eyes further, frown deepening.

Connor's next words- aren't reassuring, and Sabriel stills at them.

"But I'm not- I wouldn't!" And Sabriel's not even sure she could control someone with that degree of subtlety, even if she wanted to. He'd said they had evidence of the necromancer before they'd encountered her, couldn't they see how important it was to stop him?

She frowns unhappily as Connor keeps talking.

"I'll be honest," she promises, "And I won't get upset if they assume the worst." She assumes that's what he's worried about- that she'll react poorly if whoever's interrogating her makes an accusation, and do something that will just make things worse.

Connor's chin dips in a single, curt nod. Good.

"They'll likely assume the worst," he confirms, though it hadn't been a question. "We're at war, and we're fighting for our rights. Every human we've ever met has been out to harm us."

Prompts to cushion the blow of what he's saying weave themselves into his words, remnants from days when he was expected to defer to humans and be adaptive to their needs. Connor plucks the words back out, dumping them in the recycling bin without missing a beat. (The actions are almost reflexive.)

Despite knowing what he doesn't want to say, this doesn't mean he knows what he'll say instead. He's silent for another pause, eyebrows pinching closer together.

"Focus on the necromancer."

... That's not enough. It's maybe a thing to start with, but it can't be the whole picture. (At the same time, Connor's already spent too long speaking. Does she have enough for him to stop without letting the entire mission derail? Would it be better for him to leave even if she's left half-equipped?)

Sabriel's about to say that she understands, that she needs to not get upset if people are hostile to her, or doubt her intentions. His next words make things clearer.

"Abhorsen's business is with the Dead," she recites, in a tone that makes it clear she's repeating what she's been told before. "So I shouldn't- talk about anything else, because it's not relevant to my responsibilities as Abhorsen. Meddling in anything else wouldn't be welcome. It's just..."

It's what Mogget told her, but Sabriel's not sure if it's good advice outside the Old Kingdom. But Sabriel's not so sure it works here. What's happening between humans and androids is relevant- without countless android deaths at humans hands, the necromancer wouldn't have the makings of an army. And all of Sabriel's attempts at neutrality, well...

"I tried to stay out of things, but all that led to was the army after my head."

A line has appeared between his eyebrows, and he shakes his head sharply.

"Don't avoid their questions, that will suggest guilt. Don't ignore anything, the things that happened are important. We're at war, and no matter what the necromancer might do, the humans are what's killing androids now. Just--"

His shoulders are stiff, and he has a hand up to gesture while he talks. He only notices the latter because it brushes the bullet-proof glass between them, and he jerks it back, LED pulsing solidly.

He needs to relax. If the upcoming conversation doesn't go well, he'll renegotiate with North. Together they'll find a way to prevent what might come. Perhaps he should speak with her afterwards one way or another; half of this confusion has been because he hasn't somehow communicated, because he hasn't--

Connor shakes his head, forcing a silent breath out through his nose. His shoulders lower, mimicking relaxation. "You were on the right track before." His lips curve up, and he fights the false expression back down to something flat. His eyes, unaffected by the 'smile', are drilling into her. "Don't be discouraged if they hate you. Be clear about your intentions. Do your best."

"Be honest," Sabriel repeats, "Answer all their questions, and don't get upset or try to convince them otherwise- just tell the truth?"

Sabriel can do that, she thinks. It's not like she's much good at lying anyway. Connor- both of them- know that.

"I understand. I need to be patient, and not get upset. But... Do you think they'll believe me?" Connor being on the other side of the glass, rather than a cell, suggests Jericho believes him to some extent, even if they're worried about what they think she might have done to him. But Connor still seems on edge.

"Don't worry," Sabriel reassures him, "I'll be completely honest and hopefully that will settle everything."

PSL

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