He wiped what was left of Priya from her mind and watched as Sierra walked away with Victor, and wondered if keeping such a heavy secret was worth the pain. Priya had asked Topher in confidence to keep her secret locked away forever; now Sierra could not even remember being with him in Nolan's place, stabbing the man over and over, or even how Topher tried in vain to help her in her greatest distress.
I couldn't even save one doll, Topher thought bitterly as he watched the two of them head in the direction of the sleeping pods. He retreated back to his office, full of equipment and testing materials and the chair that started everything in the first place. One hand rested heavily on the arm of the chair; the material was still warm from just holding Priya's frightened body only moments ago. For a second, he stared into the headrest of the chair, a vacant expression on his face.
When he climbed into the chair, leaning back until he could feel the machinery dig into the skin of his neck, Topher felt a familiar feeling wash over him: fear. It was the machine he had a hand in creating, and yet just sitting in it sent chills through his spine. If he turned the machine on remotely, what would happen? Would he lose all the memories and knowledge and emotions that made up Topher Brink?
"Of course not," Topher joked, jumping up from the chair with his usual energy. "Not a doll, can't be wiped." It sounded more like a mantra than a simple statement. Still, there was no time to focus on the night's events just yet. There were diagnostic tests to run on the system, high-tech toys to be properly tinkered with. Memories to be locked away in a hidden cell of his mind which not even the eyes of Rossum could probe into.
He'd already heard Adelle's thoughts on the matter, Boyd's too. All he had left to judge him was the sound of his own mind, deliberately jabbering on at full speed while Topher worked. And it's telling him he can't simply ignore Sierra anymore, or see her as just another doll. It's telling him that messing with the intricate mapping of the human brain is fun, but maybe sometimes he has to put the brakes on and reevaluate the situation at hand. After all, it had been Topher who had been lied to, thinking he was helping a mentally distressed Priya when he didn't know she had deliberately been made crazy. Now the blood that had been on Priya's hands just hours ago would forever be on his own, as the appointed sole witness of her last defiant action as Priya Tsetsang.
When Ivy showed up at the lab despite the late hour, she found Topher working over pieces of tech meant to eventually become a remote wiping device, a look of pure concentration on his face.
"Working late?" Ivy asked, despite already knowing the answer. She held up a sack of sweetly smelling food. "Good thing I brought goodies."
"Stuff one in my mouth, my hands are busy," Topher replied, never looking up from his face. Ivy actually complied, knowing full well when Topher was joking (which happened a lot) and when he was dead serious (which was becoming more and more frequent). She only started working at her own table when she could hear the sound of sugary dough crunching thoughtfully in his mouth, assuring her he was getting some kind of nutrients that day.
Topher was very good at looking busy while not doing much work - a skill born from constant check-ups by either Adelle or Boyd. So he spent a few minutes shuffling through thin sheets of paper covered in complicated mechanical outlines while he thought about his last conversation with Sierra.
"That's him. What's his name?"
"Victor."
"I love him. Is that real?"
". . . Yes. Yes, it's real. He loves you back."
This was, naturally, a very dangerous aberration - for a doll to display romantic tendencies towards another. They were meant to be blank slates, people in waiting until the next assignment, the next sit-down in the magic chair of mind rewrites and wipes. Sierra refused to play by the rules. She loved, and she meant it, and she was loved in return. Dolls loving dolls, what is this world coming to?
He held up part of the casing for what would become the remote wiper's prototype in the light, examining it with a souped-up jeweler's magnifier for any flaws. There wouldn't be any, of course, but Topher was thinking it would be better to be safe than have it crack in usage and somehow become a dullheaded doll himself. He was also thinking about Priya. Brave Priya. Scared Priya. His Priya that was his and his alone, locked up tight in his head case as his only real testament to the fact that once upon a time there had lived someone called Priya Tsetsang and she had lived. Sierra? Even him, in good conscience (if he had one), could not even call her existence 'living' as much as just 'being there'.
"Hey, come look at this," Ivy called over. "I think I've got a good idea for the energy cell pack."
Topher mosied over to her work area, snagging another donut on the way. He had left his examining glasses on, all lenses and magnifiers reflecting the overhead lights like prisms, and the sight of it caused Ivy to yelp and then throw her hand over her mouth to hide her self-deprecating smile. "Is it small?"
Ivy held up a device as big as her knuckles. "What do you think?"
"No no no, that's huge, we need something small. We're not talking miniature dog small, we're talking nanochips floating through your bloodstream small." Topher pinched the air until it looked like he was grasping an inch's worth. "See?"
"I see." Ivy held up one of her digits next to Topher's rudely purloined bit of air. "Like that?"
"I can see you still measure inches by your thumb like a grade schooler. Nice." Topher jammed a walnut-studded brownie in his mouth and walked back to his desk, fidgeting with an equation on one the computers as he did - his way of saying Ivy was on track.
When he did get back to work, preparing to solder together the base of what would hold Ivy's cell pack, Topher wondered to himself if maybe it would be safer for everyone if he got rid of the original print for Priya, wiped it clean from the Dollhouse's main database so that she could never remember how she got there or how they turned her crazy or even the night she got her revenge. He didn't like easy, though. Challenges were a constant source of enjoyment for him. The biggest challenge however wasn't making the remote wiper or keeping the dolls in line. It was fooling Adelle DeWitt into thinking he didn't care one iota about Sierra.
"Sorry, boss, but I can't let this one go." He flipped down the protecting lenses on his safety glasses and started making cold heat come to life between his fingers.
