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Citadel
~AN APH FANFICTION~
Warnings: Human AU Utopia-Dystopia Post-Apo,
Unconventional Relationships, Depictions of violence
Sensitive Issues, suggestive themes and strong language
If you like it, please don't forget to F, F and Review
Beta Read by: Tobi Schroedinger
I don't own APH whatsoever.
Chapter 2: The Colour of the Sea
…
-o0o-
What more can be comforting than a cup of warm tea in the morning? At least it would have been the case if only I had drunk mine minutes ago. My hands simply grasped tighter at the porcelain surface where it rested for already almost a quarter of an hour. At this point, the smooth liquid contained inside has long turned cold and utterly uninviting. It only seemed that I have lost all my affection for tea at this specific moment. Sadly, I doubt that even if I try, it will never taste as pleasant as my tongue had remembered before.
The lively chatters inside the whole coffeehouse fell blurred in my ears. Along with it, the ambient music slowly died against the breeze wafting across the sunny open-air deck. Indeed, I was seated amongst circles of prestigious personnel enjoying their very first break in the morning. I could not stress enough how repeatedly I berated myself to just enjoy the relaxed sights and sounds as leisurely as I possibly could. However, a single person's countenance and blunt speech can be provoking enough that you cannot simply turn away, cross your arms, and pretend that you're not hearing anything.
My fingers gripped even more tightly around the teacup, even more so that it started to clatter.
"One thing I dislike the most is when people don't listen to what I say."
The same blunt voice snapped at me, quite reproachful but unfittingly temperate at the same time. Even so, it still burned more than enough to make me flinch and flick my eyes up straight in defence.
"I was listening, professor." My shrivelled throat managed to force out with graceless confidence. Never wanting to look either excessively vacant or too uneasy, I forked up a pastry and smiled at him before I took a bite.
Professor Bonnefoy impassively returned the smile, drank his coffee and never hesitated in tormenting me even more, "If so, care to provide me an inquiry of sorts?"
Immediately after he said that, a very irresistible scoff stung on sides of my face as I tried my best to prevent it from escaping. My breath could only relieve itself in an unsatisfying hitch as I asked ever so tastelessly, "So... what happened next? I bet it gets tragic."
"Everyone avidly debated back then whether those two in microbiology sabotaged the system or if it was merely an accidental case." He lifted his fingers and gave it an effortless glance. "Well, I must say… isn't it highly unlikely for an experienced team to leak their creation towards someplace an entire building away? That bothersome incident surely flees beyond the scope of negligence. In the end, seventy newborns died of encephalitis and that includes my very own, Jones-703. Another fifteen survived but due to strict quality control measures, all of them but one had to be put down."
The manner and tone in which the professor had said the last two words made hot blood shoot and sear sharply under my skin.
"You see what that means, young man? After being almost hopelessly ill, Jones-704 persisted and was deemed usable enough to pass. He's quite an interesting boy, I assure you— tame but never boring. You might find him a little too talkative though, but I know for certain that he's always compliant. When he was younger, I frequently made special use of him to further a few of my studies."
His careless little laugh clawed torturously at the farthest end of my wits. A little further and there's no certainty if I could stop myself from cussing the youthfully-masked old man. He only escaped my thwarted anger when he never spoke furthermore. In spite of that, his watchful eyes still kept on pursuing my attention. It then suddenly hit me that he merely threw all of these unpleasantries just to gauge my reaction. I don't know if he sought it for personal fun or if he simply wanted to strain my ability to stay professional. Regardless of what reason, I am not going to indulge any of his motives.
"It's clear that those two researchers had their certifications revoked." I unaffectedly stated the obvious outcome of his tale. There will never be a single sentiment wasted for such a foolishly-purposed conversation.
Despite that, he just laughed louder.
"Oh, you're too merciful, child!" I steadily studied his face as his impassive smile turned into an expression of pure interest. He then leaned forward and continued in a levelled voice, "Regrettably, those two had to be cut off from the system. Many shook their heads, thinking that it was such a waste. The pair had been what everyone here calls as the 'overprivileged class'— born into one of those influential families and at the same time, also belonging to our stature. However, in my opinion, their final fate was not even close to a complete waste. Their somatic cells were stored beforehand and soon enough, their genetic material will walk the earth once more… well perhaps, as human test subjects instead. A good reversal of fortune easily makes me smile. There's always something about it that just seems so humorous, isn't it?"
I laughed but it was far from being amused. If there's anything else, it just awkwardly implied my stifled repulsion. I can't help but feel ashamed about it. Did the professor quickly inspired this sudden fear in me? My mouth could almost taste the disdain I was determined to express. Even so, not a single sound emerged other than the agitated exhale escaping from my lips. And although his matter-of-fact recounts turned grislier and grislier, detailing every horrid complications of misinformed consent, I just sat there and stirred my own rage in silence.
That relentless one-sided conversation lasted for half an hour. It was the lengthiest thirty minutes of my entire life.
Already past our schedule, the professor finally got tired of talking and asked for us to leave the deck. I got up from my seat with everything else on my side of the table left pristine, cold and stale. As we began our wordless walk back to our sector, it became hard to brush aside how Professor Bonnefoy looked perfectly carefree as if there wasn't a thing to trouble him— not his thoughtlessness, not a single weight of any kind of burden. He walked fast, leaving me behind to pick up and haul whatever it is that he refuses to carry. It was everywhere inside my lab coat pockets, under my sweating palms and quivering fingers. It was intangible yet so heavy, enough to sharpen my sighs and sink my shoulders. I tried my best to ignore and keep it contained under my skin. Just like everybody else here does.
Then again, maybe I just foolishly assumed all along that everyone in this institution carries the same burden. Reality bluntly speaks now that perhaps, there isn't even a single person here who still remembers what exactly that burden was. In my full, outraged sight, everyone around me walks just as fast as the professor does. Keeping up will be an effort of my lifetime as from my very first day, I already had promised myself to never follow their ruthless path.
"You seem so passionate about your work, professor." My soles and heels started hurting as they caught up with his pace.
"I am?" He chuckled nonchalantly, tipping his flask upon his mouth and plainly ignored my scorn, "Perhaps so. However, my motivations are quite different. Extreme passion for our line of work seems to usually stem out of individuals with very strong patriotism. On the other hand, my motivation simply comes from pure scientific interest… nothing else superfluous and irrational."
"Wow, that's cold. I'm so impressed. Is there even a single person you value?"
"What's with that question, child? I'm a man of virility! I have a thousand loves!" He exaggerated, earning my vehement doubt and so he simply threw a very patronising laugh, "Alright, I'm just messing with you. It's actually a thousand and three loves. I once had a family, you know? A beautiful wife, a son and a very vivacious granddaughter."
"Once had?" Those two words caught my whole attention and surprise. "Where are they now?"
"I find work a whole lot efficient without a family."
As he said that, the too-elated quality in his voice still was perfectly maintained and his carefree expression never even died down. But despite of his smiling apathy, my stare insisted that he was just the typical rationalising old man blinded by what he falsely knew as success. He apparently snubbed my eyes and quickly moved away from me. Whether he evaded on purpose or if it was simply because we're now nearing towards our sector's doorway, I never got the chance to sweep the answer off his face.
"Go on. Get to work." He tossed the transportable database over to me and then abruptly focused into unlocking the stubborn door. "I believe you are a capable apprentice, otherwise, you will never be assigned as my protégé. I take it that you can do all of those simple tasks, hmm? It's almost time for that annoying board meeting."
The security mechanism that kept on resisting finally conceded and the entrance clicked ajar, the sound prompting me to say a reply.
"…Of course, Professor."
"Make it fast. I need them all done before the end of the day."
The door was then immediately shut closed at my face and with it, Professor Bonnefoy disappeared into his more important task. Even now, I still couldn't resolve how he weaved himself and his flawed conscience into the supposed ethical system of the institution's board. Something is utterly wrong about it and since the academy never mentioned anything contrary to what is expected of the Citadel Code and Protocol, ridiculous theories simply kept forming inside my head. It seems that clarity is set to unfold only when it wants to unfold. Yet in my mind, the urge to pry for answers ran wild with restless impatience.
However, the impulse passed swiftly as it came by and I found myself hopelessly stranded in the middle of my thoughts. Even with the overpowering desire to know, where to begin was something I still find very difficult and a little too early to place.
"Good morning, Mr Arthur Kirkland of Sector 1423. I'm Aryl your permanent AI assistant. Just give me a vocal order and I'll be very happy to attend to your instructions and organising needs. In the meantime, I'll hand out today's tasks in order of priority. First, Unit Jones-704 checking. Location: Sector 1423 Quarters, Room 1—"
I stared blankly into the profile projected by the transdata, halfway halting the silvery voice that immediately came after activating my earpiece.
Jones Project Unit 704th
Short Serial: Jones-704
Current Quality: Class D
Production code:
2448-1423-2918-0704
My eyes swept through and as it blinked, focus finally settled onto a set of numbers I wasn't able to obtain last evening. I slowly started to pace away whilst bringing out from memory the time we were taught to interpret the four-set production code. Recalling wasn't too long before I made out the fact that the unit is almost four years younger than I am, and the person whom he was derived from had lived more than four hundred years ago. My assistant's bubble below kept on expanding with relentless notices of task scheduling so I permanently popped it away from my view. With that out of sight, an extensive string of very specific information about Jones-704 came rolling down in front of me.
There were an abundance of various tables and charts. Each of them contained organised data from the most basic to the very intricate ones in a generous effort to make it complete— from eye colour, blood type and allergies, to the records of both his birth mother and ovum donor, to every kind of medical measurement and real-time physiological monitoring. Everything was actually routine recording and I did expect files to be this detailed. I simply flicked through most parts until my unconscious searching led me into a part that made my ears drown once again beneath the professor's heartless words.
Studies and Programmes:
Vaccine and Anti-Viral Drug Discovery for Synthetic Virus IVDA-2
Principal Investigator: F. Bonnefoy
Efficacy of Implanted C24 Organic Wiring System in Internal Vital Monitors
Principal Investigator: F. Bonnefoy
Efficacy of OPSOL51 Ophthalmic Solution in Relieving Pain After
Surgical Introduction of Subretinal Implants
Principal Investigator: F. Bonnefoy
Renewed Category B Conditioning Experiments and Simulations
Principal Investigator: A. Vanderstelt
Feasibility of Reformulated IV Feeder Type A in Resolving Food Resource Crisis
Principal Investigator: F. Bonnefoy
...
Scrolling further, pages and pages of various studies came blurring upward against my view. I could never ignore how my gut stirred in dry repulsion as the list continued unravelling to no end. The little hairs on my arm all rapidly wakened in succession with every speeding line that faded away. Almost smothering in quiet outrage, my footsteps slowed down into a halt.
Principal Investigator: F. Bonnefoy
Francis Bonnefoy
It was the only detail that almost never wavered.
"I know for certain that he's always compliant. When he was younger, I frequently made special use of him to further a few of my studies."
A few? Is this vile amount of cruelty what he laughingly called a few? I can't even believe that such an utter extent of abuse was permitted to run freely from his hands! To think of it, with a list this long, 704 surely had been a test subject in at least ten studies in any given period— if the professor had been feeling a least bit merciful. In all actuality, the number ten only counted the barest minimum.
Even so… what's the purpose of striving for reliable results if the test subject is severely overused?
It developed a sensible observation that I couldn't bear to disregard. Perhaps, it might just be a case of simple overthought but there's still not a thing to deny about it. Professor Bonnefoy's methods are beyond ruthlessness, however, a man of position such as him would never do something that overtly idiotic. Immense doubt quickly began its committed journey inside the depths of my mind, rooting itself into my string of thoughts. Without reluctance, I took all my interest towards a study picked from a random page and activated all its contents.
Access Denied: Contents Encrypted
A key is needed to open this subfile
Apparently, the whole record was something prohibited even for me to delve into.
I dismissed the entire file out of my view and leaned against the metal railing at my side, scoffing severely at how answers seemed to dislike my questioning. Feeling the heat of fresh sunlight, I finally realised my presence before a wall that was completely made of transparent glass. It escapes me entirely whether I had noticed it last evening or not. My curious eyes stared as deeply as it could and soon, I found myself seemingly floating far above a striking maze of hedges made with engineered blue-coloured shrubbery. It must be, for the colour blue had never been common in living nature.
My fingers felt for the transdata once again and this time, I gathered all the boy's scans into compilation until a full picture of his came into life. A pair of blinking blue eyes then stared through mine as if it was wholly aware of my gaze. The urge to seek traces of suffering quickly overshadowed every other intent residing within my cluttered mind. But then after, nothing unfolded except for an expression of cold neutrality.
I expected a small feeling of relief, but none ever came.
If nothing else, it only forced me to recall something very awful from my distant past. That face of cold neutrality was simply too evoking, too familiar to me. I had seen it countless of times in the mirror… and it was all the same every day— nothing of any feeling lasted, even though how much I had wanted it to last.
Now I know why the academy had always taught us to treat their kind as if they were ourselves. Their reasoning often stated that if there's somebody out there who could understand them, it would only be us. However, why does this teaching simply gets thrown away once someone gains standing in this institution?
Perhaps subconsciously, those units can easily be looked at with envious eyes.
Even with the comparable likeness of misfortunes, our worlds were simply too distinct to begin with. A mere exam in our childhood forced us to suffer a very controlled environment, a unit was made to live a very controlled environment. I had grown finding out that something very costly was lost forever the moment I was handed over. But what about them? They all grow up never having an idea of what their lives could have been or should have been.
There's just a lot of things a person could only know because of something that was suddenly lost. It had always been realising one because of the other— in losing, gaining… happiness and misery.
The entire heaviness of that thought almost made me overlook my presence within the quarters. It wasn't too long then until I finally came under the plain atmosphere of our assigned wing. The door that securely sealed everything inside appeared rather hefty and its impenetrable design could now be fully observed in clearer lighting. Sturdy and thick as it may seem, anybody passing still can see a faint glimpse of a continuing passageway inside. My fingers slightly trembled at the feeling of such an intimidating door. I didn't stay facing it another second more other than the time spent feeding my identification and quickly let myself inside.
A sudden brightness that I never expected glared at my arrival. It was also just now that I realised what actually lies beyond the corridor of eight individual rooms— the entirety of the wing's wall on the other side was also made of transparent glass. Every bare side in the quarters were made to restrain and imprison. But then, that particular glistening wall inspires to free the sense of sight. As I stepped further into the radiant space which did not exist for my eyes last evening, I saw that it technically serves as a residence without divisions.
A vividly red-haired female unit stood by the living area fist-fighting against a soldierform, trying very hard to win at her recreation while hooked onto two intravenous bags. At the far side where a kitchen was located, another unit— same red hair but a male one— enjoys a paper book on a breakfast bar. Another step of mine made the two of them simultaneously shoot me a glance. I meant to return them a little smile but they seemed rather disinterested, going back to each of their own amusements in a flick of a second.
Ignored, I turned my attention towards a staircase that led to a jutting floor that seemed like some kind of a small viewing platform. My finding was confirmed the moment I reached the top and discovered an office enclosed with one-way glass panels. I even flipped a lonesome metal décor atop the desk, discovering that it was actually a name plate holder.
Abel Vanderstelt
Intern, Sector 1423
My hands carefully laid the device I brought with me behind the second-hand décor and perfectly aligned them both. A few steps from where I stood, everything appeared very exposed below, unhindered and with the assurance of absolute privacy for the observer. As my eyes swept around without anybody else to judge, I openly frowned and cringed at the simulated normalcy that the entire room exudes without shame.
It was only then until a crashing noise of something metal snatched my full attention.
When I drew the curtain behind the desk and peeked through the sliding door, a fallen IV pole against the balcony railings immediately came into view. Then at the moment my eyes rolled sideways, horror mercilessly shredded all my nerves in a sheer instant— an unmistakable young man was tottering fixatedly beyond the rails and atop a terrifying width of concrete protruding from the building's wall. I could see a glimpse of his IV bag almost dangling down his side. Afraid of startling him into tripping over, my fingers tapped on the glass slightly until he notices the sound.
"704… Jones-704, right?" I called anxiously, struggling to get the rest of my body past the door that suddenly jammed less than halfway. "Listen to me. Please, don't carry out whatever it is that you're planning."
He just stared at me, bewildered.
Once again and more calmly, I tried coaxing him out of his dangerous thoughts, "Do not jump, please… Oh no, wait, wait, WAIT!" My chest pounded ever so insanely as he bent his head and nonchalantly gazed at the direct thirteen-floor drop.
"Are you serious?" He innocently deadpanned over my obvious fright, "Why would I do that? I will die for sure if I jump from here."
Even with those words, a rush of relief in that particular sense never reached my mind.
"Whatever foolish reason it may be that you're hanging around there, forget it and come grab my hand, do you hear me?"
A quick hand of mine reached out and demanded that he extend his own right away, which he did silently without a complaint. Two little more careful steps in my direction and I was almost free to let go of my nervous grip at the railing. But then as he struggled to put his first foot forward onto the balcony, adrenaline surged with haste and I swiftly yanked him over into safety.
Apparently, the IV bag wasn't saved. I noticed it the second I laid eyes on its user grasping a trail of fresh blood down his arm where the missing central line was ripped off.
"Oh, well… shit. That'll be a little tricky to explain."
He grinned uneasily, "I'm sorry the feeder slipped."
One short nod was all I could give before telling him to walk inside for his wound needed to be treated right away. Fortunately, the fastidiously-organised office made it easier for me to dig around for a sealed piece of sterile pad.
"Alright," I handed him the packet, "wipe up and grip tight. Go back silently to your room and stay there. I'll follow shortly."
Picking up my transdata device, I entered a few fabricated excuses for the fallen IV bag and soon headed down towards Room 1.
While tending to his injury, every single one of my assessments were only met with no more than a few flinches and some head-shaking. I eventually gave up persuading him to be truthful and simply let out a quick laugh, "Well, guess what? You'll still receive the golden ticket to the infirmary from me… and I'll also book you a lovely bonus trip to Radiology just in case—"
"Please… please don't scold me."
My own expectation of a light-hearted response from him was only met by this unfitting, almost too frightened reply. It occurred to me that perhaps, my voice sounded a bit too unkind, or somewhat sarcastic.
"Did I just sound like I was scolding you?" I asked him frankly.
The fifteen-year-old who's quite tall for his age then dropped his head as if either showing shyness or servility, "It always starts with that small laugh."
"What?" Of course, Professor Bonnefoy inevitably popped in my mind. "704, I would never scold somebody for some mishap that can be easily fixed."
Hearing my words, he finally twitched a real smile for me. It was so heartfelt in a way that drives me to return the gesture with the same openness. However, I could never say that I'm quick in realising such things. It only came over me seconds after I asked him to take a seat for the time being. I then had to turn my back to hide the silly after-grin lingering on my face, wiping off the obnoxiously perplexing feeling that came along with it. Everything about how I expressed myself just felt strangely and frighteningly satisfying. Maybe, I simply had forgotten how to smile in that manner.
"Mr Intern," His mild voice then interrupted my needless checking of drawers, "wouldn't you want to know what I was doing up there?"
Truth be told that his grave thoughts interest me immensely. Even so, the silver sheen of foil-encased force-feeders immediately reminded me to tread lightly towards feelings and realities I probably knew nothing of. A few swift and quiet seconds passed between us before I opted for a more considerate response.
"Tell me, but only if you really wish to speak about it."
"Dying is the last thing I want… but sometimes, I just couldn't help myself."
Hearing that, I got up and sat with him on his bed. A lot of soothing words took shape for me to say, but be that as it may, all of them only shrunk into a tiny exhale. I knew all too well not to start something that might mock another person's suffering. My words could backfire on me easily and when it comes to that, I'm certain that I will run out of reassurances to say and would simply nod my head to anything. I can't be putting myself in a situation that might make me agree in the notion of ending somebody's life out of mercy.
"You can tell me about it and I promise I'll listen." My eyes levelled with his, "I have to admit to you though that I may not know the proper words to say in response. However, if there's anything else to say… I was the happiest person in this world the moment you decided not to jump off the ledge."
That didn't sound right at all.
Although, it still served some purpose of making him chuckle because of its sheer tackiness.
"What are you saying? I don't want to end my life. You weren't even listening to me up there, were you?"
"But I thought…" Indeed, as much as how lost in my assuming mind I was, everything started clearing up quickly and eventually. "Oh, never mind me embarrassing myself."
"Thank you, though." He repeated his heartfelt smile again, "I really felt that you were genuinely concerned and I'm sorry for giving you a very bad reason to be unnecessarily worried. Rest assured, I won't do it again. I promise I will quit trying."
"Trying what, exactly?"
"I just wanted to see what lies beyond these walls."
Confused by his reply, I clarified a point, "Don't you already have a gigantic, fancy window for that?"
"Well, that scenery through the glass wall outside? It's fake." A shallow sigh fell on my ears first before an almost fervent tone replaced it and started explaining the rest, "At first, I merely heard it around as a rumour and of course, I didn't believe it. They frequently whispered about this magnificent thing called a 'metropolis' that was supposed to be seen from every wing facing the west."
What he was trying to say provoked my utmost interest as well as astonishment particularly on how I didn't even realise when it should be the most obvious thing for someone like me. Maintaining all my attentions, I did not interrupt and listened well to everything he has to say.
"I kept dismissing those claims until I found out, just by carefully watching, that everything I see from our window was a complete lie. Everything that can be seen there— fleeting clouds, birds, vivid orange sunsets and all those tiny people passing below— were all looped every sixty-seven days."
As he spoke, paused and breathed out as he needed to, little hints of enthusiasm became more and more palpable in his words. I cannot immediately tell if I understood why, but I'm convinced that he wrapped his very thoughts around the matter as if it was something really important to him.
"You see, I don't know much to expect anything… but wouldn't it be a nice feeling to even have a little glimpse of something I'm not allowed to lay eyes on? If a metropolis is indeed as magnificent as they had whispered around, I'd like to see it for myself."
I abruptly dropped my gaze at what he said as memories from far behind quickly lit up after being dim for so long. Evading that very recollection, I stood up and finally broke my silence.
"Taking all that risk for the simple desire to know some truth, huh? You're kind of insane, don't you know that?" I tried to repress all the forming images in my mind but then it never remained hidden since my thoughts always knew how to slip its way through my every action. "However, I'm starting to realise that there's a lot of bravery in such gestures. Not many people possess the same courageous spirit as you have. Most of them would rather choose to hide behind senseless and unforgiving rules just to protect themselves."
I glanced back towards his blue eyes which responded with only pure warmth, painting a very deep contrast over the picture of coldness I saw in his profile just moments ago. That warmness itself made the past image spontaneously melt away from my mind. Along with it, profound fears and self-doubt started to wash away from within, giving more room for a little courage to sprout.
"Well, letting you know will require me to break a rule, but let's just say that I'm beginning to learn not to care so much about some of them." I started with my most sincere smile. "Yes, you're right. The scenery through the glass wall is indeed made-up and you can trust me the truth on that. However, you still have to guarantee me that you'll make good on your promise and never attempt that dangerous stunt again."
"I promise. I really do promise, Mr Intern." He eagerly replied.
"Okay then. Uh, just let me have a look on my tasks and after I'm done with ones related to you, I'll be giving you the infirmary pass. It won't take long. Will you be alright?"
After receiving his nod, I then moved away to the small desk on the other side of the room and woke up the transdata. My fingers ran around once again along Jones-704's file, dismissing it and searched for the task bubble that I had driven away. Quite a small handful of duties merely rolled down when I finally found it. However, when it came into expanding each bulleted entry, sub-duties branched out in ridiculous quantities. The lengthy details kept me so absorbed that when 704 suddenly called out to me, I nearly flinched in surprise.
"Hey, Mr Intern?"
"What is it, 704?" I gently swivelled my seat towards his direction and asked.
"Uhm, what can I say…" Seeing me giving my full attention made him hesitate a little before continuing, "You now probably know everything about me." He said, pointing to the glowing strings of floating data at my back.
"Not all, actually." I then took the chance to fish something off the display, sweeping the 'Access Denied: Contents Encrypted' message in front of me and afterwards widened it for him to see.
"Just as I thought." Much to my surprise, he then unzipped his suit halfway and revealed a stamped patch of skin. "I'm sorry for not giving you notice right away but they recently had those so-called keys implanted beneath our skin for better safekeeping of highly classified files—that's what they told me. Just a little link-up and the information's yours to see as long as you're near me."
Noting what he told me, I nodded and said, "I'll tell you if I would need it."
"Mr Intern," He broke in once more just as I was about to resume my work. "I'd like to know your name... if it's okay with you."
My hand immediately ran at the pocket of my lab coat and when it came to me that I left my identification back then in the main door's security slot, I simply revealed, "My name's Arthur Kirkland."
"Mr Kirkland," His abrupt speaking didn't allow me a chance to turn my back. "If you don't mind, may I ask you about a few more things?
Even though my overstimulated senses vehemently declined being further disturbed, his face changed into an even more mellow expression, with optimistic eyes that anyone would surely find hard to snub and refuse.
"Oh, alright." I finally swivelled back behind the desk. "You can ask me while I'm going over my work so as to not waste time. It's okay, I'll answer every one of those."
"Well, Mr Kirkland," he went on, "what is it like in a metropolis?"
Stalling in front of my task list, I felt my heart skip a beat. There was a good amount of hesitation that implored me not to speak but then, my lips never managed to hold and silence my words. All I could do is wrap feigned indifference around all the past and present resentment, making sure that none of those uncomfortable feelings surface in my tone.
"Having dissolved its former name over years of attempting to deceive outside aggressors, Metropolis became the simple known name of the nation's capital." Defending myself, I flew into reason. It had always been comforting for me how reason doesn't require emotions. "That fact is one of the only few things I know about that place. Even though I was born there eighteen years ago, a meagre five childhood years of living within it wasn't enough to make me remember. My family still lives there, though."
"Family? Is your family good?"
Nevertheless, of all questions he can ask me…
"I… yes, they were good." I quickly wheeled to my left and reached for the nearby supply drawers as if I was checking for anything missing. It gave me a chance to behave like the question was nothing to me since I was never good at telling lies. On the first hand, supplies were not even on the task list. Everything was just a pure, pathetic excuse to deceive myself further. "They were kind-hearted, loving and I treasure them the most. They used to visit me often while I was studying and brought picnics with them. We had such a wonderful time."
"A treasure, huh? Professor Bonnefoy had used that word too whenever he describes his family to me. It's sad but some time ago, I heard from the former intern that his whole family was killed in an automobile accident."
Shocked by what I heard, I abandoned the sight of perfectly-aligned sample collection vessels and looked at him to ask if I heard right. 704, stripped of all his clothes, then stood there and met the utter surprise in my gaze. Even as my expression quickly turned into uneasiness, his face only maintained its childlike tranquil, as if not even aware of how inappropriate he looked.
"What are you doing?!" I pressed, staring up straight to his eyes. That finally made him begin to express confusion.
"It's also the first Thursday, right? Y-you were even going through the supplies just now."
"Yes, but what on earth—" As fast as I could, my hand grabbed the rumpled-up clothing by his bed and handed it to him. "Seriously, please put this back on."
"What's wrong?"
"Don't ask me. However, I should ask you… who the hell makes you do that? The professor?"
"No, the former intern. He always hated delays and says it'll be faster and more efficient this way. The prof never does check-ups. In fact, I never even had seen him for a few years."
So all along, I figured out, the person he was actually really terrified of was the professor's former apprentice. One thing answered, giving way to even more confusing questions.
"Say, 704..." I started, almost murmuring, "Is Professor Bonnefoy kind to you?"
"Yeah, he cared for me. Even though I often had seen tiredness around his wrinkled eyes, they neither had shown me a shred of contempt nor indifference. He used to visit often when I was younger and seemed happy spoiling me with colourful responses to my most childish questions."
The young unit's voice and expression did exude utmost truthfulness. Even so, I still couldn't stop myself from subtly rolling my eyes in doubt as Professor Bonnefoy's recent heartless words and untroubled laughter loudly resonated inside my head. How could I easily believe such a thing when that vile man had done nothing but provoke me in every possible way while he shamelessly hid behind his armour of superiority. Almost all of these were very irresistible to argue and clarify against 704's positive view about him.
"I still don't know why he doesn't visit these days anymore, though. I have asked the former intern countless times but he wouldn't tell me anything other than the Professor had left for a while because of his family's death. A couple of months turned into a couple of years and he still never came by again. Since it seems that he's really back, how is he now, Mr Kirkland?"
"Ah, uhm… the professor's just busy. That's all, but he's fine. I guess he will be visiting you as soon as he finally finds that spare time in his rather chaotic schedule."
I faltered. In the end, it wasn't easy to ruin someone's fond memories about a person they learned to cherish.
"I'm very glad to hear that, Mr Kirkland."
The smile I gave back to him covered the entirety of the lies beneath it. With the prodding guilt that those lies induced, I thought of some very valuable thing to make up for it. I then turned and grabbed my transdata with haste and told him, "Quickly fasten your suit and come with me."
"Why?" He asked, a bit bemused of my sudden actions.
"I want to show you something."
We both walked towards the living area until I stopped a few steps before the scenery of a vast and harmless landscape.
"Aryl, please deactivate the glass wall."
The expression of wonder from 704's face was priceless. Without this, I never would've thought that his eyes could turn into an even warmer shade of blue.
-o0o-
…
Author's Notes:
To everyone who followed my stories, I am really sorry for the delay in all my works. I had undergone a really huge life change and got very overwhelmed to even find the motivation to write again. Rest assured, I won't be quitting unless I said otherwise. Thank you for your support and follows.
As I wrote this chapter, the word count piled endlessly and so I split the whole thing into two. Going up to almost 15,000 words in one go is too much, I guess.
Yes, Abel Vanderstelt is the Netherlands. His character will play a very (cannot stress it enough) vital part in this fic.
Aryl - The AI's name is my small reference to the meteor shower (April Lyrids) that annually peaks around Arthur's Birthday. The apparent radiant of the meteor shower is located in the constellation Lyra, near its brightest star Alpha Lyrae (Vega). Yes, I'm a space geek.
Last edited 25th of July 2014