A Metal Pinocchio

By Larry's Joan of Arc

Spanx for the reviews! *Goes to the satellite's ice rink and does a triple whatchamacallit* I updated this chapter a little bit, but not enough to make a huge difference. N E way, I have chosen a new pen name! But you probly knew that already. : ) A little homage to L3K!

Refuge

He sat in front of the computer, typing away. Larry's eyes glowed with the same radiance of the computer screen in the otherwise blackened room. This was no different from most other nights; hours of tedious typing, then finally, he would just shut down in an exhausted haze. And missions? Nothing short of routine. His rapidly moving fingers began to slow down as he lost himself in thought.

Sinking into a trance, Larry let his hands go limp, resting gently on the desk. He sighed gently to himself, and his eyes began to close. That quickly, he forced them back open, and continued to type with a flurry of motion, eyes locked on the screen of the computer. But his focus was skewed, energy draining

Again halting his toil, he glanced over his shoulder. Now that he had silenced himself, the satellite had fallen silent as well. There was nothing to be heard apart from the creaks and groans of its structure. The sounds were comforting, presenting a welcoming aura to Larry. Not that he understood why. The satellite had somewhat negative connotations attached to it in Larry's mind. Most of his memories of this place were unhappy ones.

The chair squeaked as Larry rose, and the dull clanks of his footsteps penetrated the silence, breaking its monotony. Although Larry wasn't entirely sure where he was going, he knew that he had to get as far away from that computer as he could. There was something about it that filled him with a feeling of hopelessness. Was it the fact that they were two sides of the same coin? Practically cousins? The computer has no soul, Larry lamented to himself. And there, minus my emotion regulator, go I.

Once the computer was safely out of his sight, the feeling began to dissipate. Larry's bright cyan eyes, glowing somberly in the darkness that surrounded him, peered beyond the open door and into the room Tuddrussel and Otto shared. The two were sleeping peacefully, and Larry couldn't help but smile at Otto's calm expression illuminated by the night light near his bed.

But as soon as Larry's gaze shifted to Tuddrussel, the smile quickly disappeared. Larry lowered his head as well, slinking away from the room like a dog that had been struck with a newspaper. That was what he felt like most of the time. Stopping in his tracks, Larry had to question himself in what he was thinking. And again. Feeling? Thinking? Impossible.

Blinking his tired eyes, Larry was now left to ponder something that had never occurred to him before. Having a mind of his own. Each attempt he built up in hopes of understanding himself was beaten and crushed by a voice, clearly that of Tuddrussel. "You're a robot. Start acting like one!you have one job, to do what you are told"

"No no nooooo!" Larry whispered, trying to shut out what he heard. "I am more than that" Larry flung a hand against the wall, sending a vibration throughout his body. The empty clang echoed in the hall, and Larry's eyes widened with fear. If Tuddrussel heard him

Larry hated to admit this truth, even if only to himself. He did fear Tuddrussel deep down, but certainly hell would freeze over before he would admit it. Continuing down the hall, through the kitchen, and into the living room, Larry crashed down onto the couch, eyes focused on the ceiling, hands folded across his chest. With one hand, he stroked the chrome of his chest. He couldn't feel the cool of the metal, but he could feel a desire to be human. Instead of a machine. Which was all he was to Tuddrussel.

"I am a servant. A slave." Larry whispered to himself again. One thing Larry had kept to himself, concealed behind the metal façade was his inner world. While on the outside, he appeared to be an emotionless machine, Larry had created for himself rich, complex worlds inside. But no dream could take him completely away from reality.

Larry tilted his head to one side, eyeing his hands. Clenching and unclenching fists, he wished to see human hands. Then Tuddrussel might be able to comprehend the depth of Larry's soul searchings. And human hands could bleed. Many times, Larry had wished that he could, with one nick of a blade, purge himself of emotional pain with physical pain. Just one chance to free himself of a little of the loathing he carried around perpetually.

The truth of the matter was Larry, whether or not he realized it, felt much more deeply than many humans. He knew love and hate, but mostly hate.

His first nine years were lonely, but he didn't know that at the time. Loneliness was what he had always known, so without anything to compare it to, it wasn't unbearable. The years following those were easily the best he experienced. On top of the world, creating the super nation destined to evolve. While memories of those days drifted dreamily around him, Larry couldn't help but come to one conclusion, "to think. I did this to myself!"

In a way, it was true. Had Larry not played such a major role in uniting the nations of the world, he might still be far from Tuddrussel. The day he was sent to join Tuddrussel, Larry assumed it would be little more than another chance to use his diplomatic skills to get the job done. He couldn't have been more wrong.

There was no room for his diplomacy with Tuddrussel's brute force, which was let loose on Larry on more than one occasion. The idea of that was enough to bring Larry to picture it happening around him again. Quickly flinching, Larry shut his eyes and thrust his arms out in front of his face, as if trying to ward off a blow. One vivid scene popped into Larry's mind.

He was sitting in the chair sideways, his metal bell-bottoms dangling over the side as he scanned down the page of the book. Although he couldn't have been there more than fifteen minutes, naturally, that was too long. A hand pushed down onto the top of the book, then pulled down, as if pulling a lever, twisting the top of the book away from Larry. Shoved in Larry's face was a badge, pinned to Tuddrussel's chest.

Slowly, Larry's stare climbed the muscular chest, passed the pulsing neck, and reached the face. Tuddrussel's teeth were bared, and although his eyes were masked by the goggles, Larry could picture the fire in them. Without giving Larry so much as a chance to question this sudden bout of anger, Tuddrussel raised his other hand. In that fist was a phaser. For a brief instant, Larry wondered if Tuddrussel's plan was to use it, but that idea was quickly ruled out.

Tuddrussel turned the phaser so the round mouth pointed to the ground, and several tablespoons of water flowed out. "Again, Larry. I've told you before"Larry's mouth flashed several futile times, attempting to get some sort of apology across. But clearly, that wasn't about to happen. Tuddrussel was no better at accepting apologies than he was at offering them.

With one smooth motion, he knocked Larry's book aside, grabbed Larry's arm and dragged him out of the chair. As he did all this, he dropped the phaser. It wasn't of any use, whether he wanted it to be or not. Larry cowered away from him, knees clanging together every few seconds. Pushing down with the hand that was clasped around Larry's wrist sent Larry crumpling down to his knees. Several sharp kicks were more than enough to break the thin glass covering the dial on his chest, and leave countless dents across his body. "I'll just leave myself and let him do what he wants"

While he managed to become somehow separate from his body, and become someone, something else, it wasn't enough to alleviate every level of pain he felt. No matter how hard he tried to prevent Tuddrussel from finding out the magnitude of the anguish he was inflicting, there was no way to shut it all out. There was no way to shut out the voice, taunting and callous, ""

Larry popped out of his dream world shaking violently. He covered his face with one hand, his cries shattering the silence at broken intervals. He tried to free himself of the memory, to cry it out, but the tears would not fall. Slowly, his sobs quieted, and his head fell back against the arm of the couch. His eyes had shone brightly, but now, they slowly began to fade to black. He relaxed, disappearing into a secret world. A smile spread across his face as the last sparkle of light in his eyes died away. An escape if only for a few hours until it began again