No amount of drink could kill the memory but that didn't mean Snake would give up trying. The eerie metallic copy of his voice still sent shivers down his spine even if the robot was long gone. Still there was more than just the voice. That was him or at least a facsimile of him in that body. The ultimate USPF prison, trapped in a metal hulk. The thought alone brought a queasy feeling strong enough that Plissken set the whiskey aside.
He tried to imagine what it would be like as that thing. He wondered if it thought of the metal as a prison like he did. It was his personality in there but then again maybe it didn't know any different. The metal prison was its body. Snake quivered at the thought. In some things it had been so much like him. It was the cynical, aggressive man. Hell the thing even turned on the USPF. It was too much but not quite. It had said too much and been too outright. Though the Snake thought if he had a metal, bulletproof body perhaps he would do the same.
The time in the lab where he woke up hooked to the machine that created the autonomous processors was still fresh in his mind. Snake wondered how much that thing had known. How much of it was like him inside? There was a moment where he wondered if it grieved for his family. Did it miss Taylor's company? Snake reflexively reached up to touch the top of his head. The slender needle pricks that had held the wires for the machine were completely healed but Plissken still feared he would feel those wires jutting out of his scalp again.
As much as the police bot had unnerved him there was an odd kinship he felt for the thing. It wasn't brotherhood but more of the tenuous kinship he felt with Hauk. All of that feeling was based in knowing someone else had survived the same he had. Yet the robot hadn't survived anything. It was his survival it remembered. He had to cover his mouth to ward off the sick feeling. The thing was him and it wasn't a body snatcher or more a mind snatcher.
Plissken tried to categorize this incident among all the rest. Invading his personality was worse than New York but better than Leningrad; not half bad in the line of things the government had done. Still it was hardly an ok thing to happen. Snake soon gave up. The verdict was that it was all bad. The world was far worse now than he even thought. Plissken wondered if others had been exposed to the mind machine or if he was alone. He didn't even know what the machines were or what they did specifically but he did have names for them. The mind machine had copied his personality. The blocky one behind was connected to a computer. The whole thing had a Doctor Frankenstein feel to it. No wonder the monster was so irate.
None of those things were the cause of his intense drinking. They didn't help matter but what held the root was much worse. Snake had killed himself in a very real way. The disjointed suicide as it seemed gnawed at his soul. How had he managed to pull the trigger on himself? There were reasons. In anger he had told the dying carbon copy that he didn't want competition. He didn't but he also couldn't bear to see his mind imprisoned. Not only in that body of metal but the forced servitude to the USPF and the life the thing would lead. The trigger had been pulled for many reasons including his own safety but pity was up there as well. He pitied that abomination.
Snake hadn't even touched his guns in the two nights since he gunned himself down. Logic said he would have to eventually but for now they seemed like his own suicide weapon.