Note: Hi everybody, this is my second-ever story, first WALL-E one.
Basically, what this story will be when I'm done with it is the garbage airlock scene from the movie from the perspectives of each of the three characters that are in it (M-O, EVE, and WALL-E). So, it'll have three chapters, one from each character. Redundant? Perhaps. Fun? Yup. Oh, and a warning, I tend not to mince words, so I apologize if any chapters are rather lengthy.
This first chapter is from M-O's perspective. Enjoy.
Oh, and of course I have to put my disclaimer for safety purposes. So here goes: I don't own WALL-E. Obviously. Duh.
And one other thing- the phrase "conglomeration of contaminates" was pretty much taken right from Castoro Chiaro's "Where Lines End". I apologize to Castoro Chiaro for stealing your phrase, but I absolutely adore that amazing alliteration.
Now let's proceed...
M-O really hadn't meant to fall down the garbage chute. After all, why would he, of all robots, want to spend even one fraction of an instant amongst filthy garbage? But the thing was, he'd just been so focused on scrubbing away that detestable dirt; so focused on the track marks marring the beauty of the spotless floor, bold and multicolored and impossible not to notice through his microbe-detecting eyes; so focused on the monotone blare of "foreign contaminant" that rang inside his robotic head, that he'd gotten a bit… well, caught up in the moment. One instant he'd been happily scrubbing away at the disgusting tracks- the next, he was falling down a long, dark hole.
His fall ended with a bounce. It took a moment for his optical sensors to adjust to the lower light level, and at first, he didn't know where he was. Then it hit him.
He was completely surrounded by garbage.
Filth! Waste! Refuse! It towered about him on all sides! It surrounded him! It…it was on him!
M-O probably would've had a fit, if it weren't for the monotone voice that caught his attention.
"Foreign contaminant!"
M-O focused. Yes, he could see it! He could see that despicably dirty robot, that revoltingly rusty cubic conglomeration of contaminants! M-O completely forgot about the trash around him. Sure, it was old and filthy and not at all to his liking, but at least it wasn't a- shudder- foreign contaminant!
M-O sped off towards his target, waving his brush over his head in excitement. Finally, he could fulfill his duty! Finally, he would not have to constantly worry about how much dirt this mass of filth was spreading across his nice, clean ship!
He was so bent on success that he failed to notice that his target was being desperately pulled out of giant block of trash by a highly distressed white probe. He also failed to notice that he was speeding right for rapidly closing airlock doors, and that even if he did manage to pass through them before they shut, he would be sucked out into the vacuum of space before he had a chance to lay even a bristle on the filthy robot.
In fact, M-O was completely oblivious to any of this until he heard a clang, and felt a pressure squeezing his head. He was jerked to an abrupt stop, and his traction ball left the ground. Helplessly hanging, he was stuck in a rather embarrassing position, with his head trapped between two doors and unable to touch the ground.
Then so much happened in quick succession that M-O could barely comprehend it all.
First, he was caught up in a powerful force that wanted nothing more than to rip him out of the ship and into space. He could feel it pulling him forwards, strong and frightening. If his head hadn't been clamped firmly between the doors, he would've already been sucked out.
Second, he noticed the white robot. It was an EVE probe, one of the ones he'd been cleaning earlier that day. She was cradling the dirty cube under one fin, and reaching desperately out towards him with the other. She strained and struggled, trying to fly against the powerful pull of the vacuum that threatened to rip her and her passenger out into space and smash them against the flying blocks of garbage.
M-O was stunned. His processor couldn't handle it all at once. He froze.
Next thing he knew, the EVE had clamped her hand around his roller and was hanging on for dear life. He felt himself being pulled on by two opposite forces- he was yanked even more fiercely out towards the deadly vacuum, but also held in place by the sturdy doors. He wasn't built to take this kind of beating. It would only be a matter of time before either his roller snapped off, or his head was yanked out of the doors' grip.
Then, it all stopped.
The outer doors slammed shut. The vacuum vanished. The probe and the filthy cube fell to the ground.
There was a moment of silence. M-O was shaking uncontrollably. His circuits were buzzing with an emotion he'd never felt before- terror. He was absolutely terrified by what had just happened. It took him a few seconds to regain his voice.
"Rrrrr?" he whirred at last. He was still being stretched uncomfortably, his head stuck in the door, and his roller tight in the EVE's grip.
The EVE glanced up and saw how she was pulling him. Her fingers loosened, allowing M-O to hang limply again.
In a few moments, the pressure on his head vanished, and he fell to the ground. The inner airlock doors had been opened.
M-O pushed himself upright, where he wobbled unsteadily for a moment before his accelerometer started functioning properly again. He turned to head back inside, but the EVE pushed past him. Still cradling the dirty cube, she zoomed by him and into the depths of the garbage hold. The giant WALL-As waited for M-O to reenter, then followed her.
M-O went over as well- partially because he wondered what all the commotion was about, but mostly because he was still hoping for a chance to scrub off that filthy cube.
He rolled into the patch of light the WALL-As had illuminated and came up behind the EVE. She had deposited the cube next to a pile of garbage, and was staring at him, sorrow in her eyes.
Now that M-O had a chance to actually look at the cube, he realized that he wasn't at all in the best shape. He looked kind of… lopsided. And he had none of the curious energy that he'd had back when M-O had first seen him. While that curious energy had been, quite frankly, extremely irritating, it also scared M-O to see the same robot that had been purposefully and insolently muddying up his perfect floor slumped, barely moving, against a pile of trash.
The cube emitted a low sound that made M-O's circuits shiver. "Eeeee…"
The EVE looked at him sadly. "WALL-E," she said.
"Foreign contaminant." The message blared in M-O's head. He stared at the filthy robot for a moment, for once in his life, uncertain.
His directive urged him to go right up to the robot, flick on his brush, and start scrubbing away all that horrific dirt. Doing so would obliterate microbes. It would eliminate a foreign contaminant. He could finally stop worrying about how much scum would be spread about the ship.
But… it was easy for him to see that the robot had been damaged. And he, M-O, had just played an important role in saving his life. After that, M-O couldn't help feeling a strange sense of attachment to the cube. Despite how sickeningly filthy he was, for a moment, M-O was tempted to just let him be, and instead of worrying about the amount of dirt on him, worry about the damage instead.
Just for a moment, though. M-O's cleaning neurosis won over in a matter of seconds. Flicking on his brush, he set to work on the robot's arm, scrubbing as gently as he could. A good clean would probably make the cube feel better anyhow.
As M-O scrubbed, the EVE flipped open a panel on the cube's chest. She gingerly pulled out a circuit board. M-O heard the sounds of crackling electricity. He looked up and saw that the board had been completely fried. It had even been burned clean through in one spot. The edges of the hole were ragged and scorched. Electricity crackled amongst the broken circuitry.
M-O winced. Ouch. Poor guy. He had to look away.
The EVE flew off, searching amongst the mountains of garbage for spare parts. M-O continued to scrub off the cube. Despite the situation, he couldn't help feeling rather pleased as at last the dirt he'd been itching to obliterate vanished beneath his roller.
Finally, M-O's scanners showed no trace of foreign contaminant left on the robot. "All clean, all clean," they reported. M-O chirped with satisfaction, before backing off and tucking his head and arms to his body. He wanted to let the damaged robot have his space.
The cube had other ideas, apparently. With slight difficulty, he shifted his arm, offering his hand to M-O. "WALL-E," he said slowly, introducing himself.
M-O stared at the hand. Fastidiously, he flicked on his brush and cleaned the last specks of dirt off WALL-E's fingers before placing his roller in them. "M-O," he said shortly.
There was a moment of silence. Then WALL-E asked, "M-O?" as though he'd never heard such an odd name.
"M-O," M-O repeated.
"…M-O." WALL-E tried out the name again, seemingly satisfied.
M-O didn't even try to compute WALL-E's weird behavior. He'd known from the very beginning that he was dealing with a very strange robot indeed.
EVE had returned. As she flew up to WALL-E and began offering him spare parts, M-O backed off and let them have their space. He wanted to think.
That feeling he'd had, that moment of hesitation, confused him. Robots were not supposed to feel such things. They were not supposed to even consider putting anything before their directive. That was wrong. Did that make him wrong? Was he malfunctioning? Did he deserve a trip to the repair ward? The thought made him shudder.
He glanced up just in time to see EVE holding a strange object, staring at it. He had never seen anything like that object before. He had no idea what it was.
Then his scanners locked onto it. "Foreign contaminant," they declared.
Suddenly, it made sense. EVE probes were designed to find things from Earth. Plants, he thought they were called. Though the thought of carrying around such a contaminant made M-O cringe (even then, he was battling the urge to knock the thing from EVE's hands and begin scrubbing it fiercely), he realized that that thing was the target of EVE's directive.
Then, as he watched, she shook her head and tossed it over her shoulder.
M-O beeped quietly to himself, shocked. She had just tossed the goal of her directive, the very reason for her existence, over her shoulder as thought it were worthless. That was a sure sign of malfunction. And yet… she didn't look like she was malfunctioning at all. Rather, she looked surer than he'd ever been as she offered her hand to WALL-E and said, "Directive."
Robots weren't supposed to ignore their directives. They weren't supposed to change their directives. EVE must be malfunctioning.
But then… he was ignoring his directive. If he hadn't been, he would've already gone and obliterated that contaminated plant. He had also left his line, which was almost as bad. And… he didn't feel like he was malfunctioning….
Robots were not supposed to do such things. But, he suddenly realized, they could.
His thoughts were interrupted by a delighted squeal from EVE. "Earth?" she shouted. "Earth!" Before M-O could figure out what had happened, she'd scooped up WALL-E and was ready to bust of this place.
WALL-E looked at him. "M-O," he called.
"WALL-E!" M-O answered. His mind was made up. He raced up to the other robot and put his roller into a hook on his back. EVE blasted a hole in the ceiling, and in an instant, they were off, zooming away….
M-O beeped in delight. This was so wrong. This deserved being locked up in the repair ward for the rest of his life. He was completely ignoring his directive, changing it even, shifting his cleaning priorities aside for something else.
But he had same feeling he'd had when he'd jumped off his line for the very first time.
Freedom.