"TAMPERING WITH ACCESS POINT MAY INCUR PUNISHMENT."
The rusted vending machine facade gave an appropriately ancient creak as it stuttered. Hacking had gotten 9S past the defense system, but it was proving to be a lot more protective of the spare parts deeper inside.
"Does anyone actually have the authority to punish me?"
"CHAIN OF COMMAND UNCLEAR. HOWEVER, RESISTANCE MEMBER JACKASS WHO RESTORED THIS AREA'S TRANSPORT SYSTEM HAS SHOWN UNPREDICTABLE BEHAVIOR IN THE PAST."
"That's...actually a good point." He paused to assess where in the transport's systems he needed to go. Getting accustomed to destroying machines by hacking them had its perks, but this needed a more delicate touch. He didn't want to think about what Jackass would do to him if he blew up a transporter.
"If I can just convince it that there's already a scanner model in-coming..."
A hiss of steam rewarded him, and he snapped out of hacking space. The access point hummed quietly. Barring the peek of light and few muffled noises from inside, it appeared to not be doing anything at all.
1.907 seconds, 9S counted while he waited. Even accounting for the drop in his processing speed, that was an embarrassing time. There weren't many machines around to practice on, but he imagined that wouldn't be the case when it came time to retrieve his weapon.
The access point opened. 9S froze.
When he tried to recall most of what happened after the Bunker fell, it felt hot. All rush and red, like what he imagined the E-Drug felt like when used by combat models. The brand new 9S model freshly assembled inside the access point gave him the opposite feeling—like ice had just been poured into his wiring.
Without a consciousness transfer, the body was only that. It would never wake up. The expression was blank. Peaceful. It fell readily into his arms as soon as he touched it, and the access point closed behind it with an impersonal huff.
In the shadowed nook between the access point and the ancient concrete it was backed against, 9S unbuttoned his damaged coat. He kicked off his worn and filthy boots and shuffled out of his shorts. He even peeled off his socks. The replacements he pulled from his copy smelled faintly of warm metal.
"Hey, did V look kind of sick to you?" he asked casually.
"NO SYMPTOMS OF COMMON HUMAN ILLNESSES WERE DETECTED. HOWEVER, ANALYSIS SUGGESTS SUBJECT V IS BELOW AVERAGE WEIGHT ADJUSTING FOR SEX AND HEIGHT."
The arm snapped clean at the joint and sizzled as he attached it. Though he grimaced, he did not cry out.
Now the model looked more like him. He was thankful that Pod 153 didn't ask why when he replaced the blank model's clothes with his old, dirty uniform. Nor did it comment when 9S flexed his new fingers and closed his hands around the model's neck.
It was only an empty shell. It wasn't him.
He took the blindfold instead. As soon as it was tied, his shoulders settled and he busily searched around for wildlife. "You think he could manage a boar on his own?"
"INQUIRY UNCLEAR."
"Well, if V's underweight it means he wasn't getting enough to eat right? You think he's strong enough to take down a boar?" He lifted the body up over his back with a grunt. "Or maybe get that bird he was flying on to do it?"
"UNKNOWN. …QUERY: WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF CARRYING THE DUPLICATE MODEL?"
"Hm? Oh, this? I might need more parts and I don't want to tamper with the access points again if I can avoid it. I'll hide it somewhere on the way."
He was glad for his freshened appearance when he arrived at the Resistance Camp. Turned heads and wide-eyed gazes followed him from the moment he stepped into the light, and though the attention wasn't hostile, he slowed to a stop by the flower bed.
"If you've got time to gawk, you've got time to move ass," an abrasive voice crowed.
9S tensed as a familiar face strode out from under a tent with Anemone in tow. "H..Hi Jackass."
She waved. Whether it was as a greeting or a dismissal was difficult to say as she was busily carrying tools to one of the camp's trucks.
"Do you...want some help?"
She raised a brow. "You're a real workaholic, huh?" She tossed her cargo in the carriage with no regard for order or even the integrity of the materials. "You wanna help me, grab a shovel and see what else you can find in all that tower rubble."
"Erm... Probably not a good idea. I'm actually here for repairs."
"Then what'd you even ask for?!" She hoisted herself into the driver's seat. "I've got more data than I know what to do with and I bet there's more. Take a break, squirt."
The engine revved, and she drove soberly out of camp. 9S listened curiously. She didn't strike him as the careful driver type, and as soon as she cleared the building, he heard the screech he had expected.
Anemone smiled in her warm but weary way. "It's good to see you're well."
She placed a hand at his back before he could respond and ushered him toward the infirmary area. The tarps were still burned and filled with holes, but the cots had been replaced.
"You've been through a lot," she said, soft enough for only him to hear. "I'm sorry...and thank you."
The words tasted like acid, but he forced himself to be honest with her. "I didn't destroy the Tower. A2, at the top she..."
"It wouldn't have opened without you," she interrupted sternly but politely, and gestured for him to lie down. "Whatever you need, don't hesitate to ask."
"Yeah..." he mumbled lamely. The misplaced gratitude was one thing, but the insistent kindness was hard for him to stomach. "Are you... treating me like this because you saw the YoRHa data...?"
"I'm extending an arm to a fellow soldier in need," she said without batting an eye. "You have my respect. Never my pity."
"Sorry..."
"It's fine. I was worried you might…" Her lips pressed together, and she held in whatever she meant to say. Instead, she squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and left him to his repair. "I hope you'll live on, 9S."
He watched her go with a bitter smile. She had a very familiar way of saying a lot by saying very little. Only with Anemone it felt intentional rather than sweetly clumsy.
"Initiate Maintenance Mode."
"AFFIRMATIVE."
The hacking space is normal. White walls with no sign of viral activity. Motor, aural, and visual systems lay before 9S in neat rows. He checks each impersonally but with uncharacteristic diligence. Maintenance will be important from here on out, and he can't afford to treat it like a tedious chore. The decay in his processing speed is not primarily hardware related, but a fluid change-out will do him good. The external maintenance process of his pod will take care of that.
He delves deeper, until he arrives at his memory area.
It feels small. He had not realized just how accustomed he became to the machine network and its vast systems all interconnected to the point of near-infinity. The curious, analytic part of him whispers that technically that was his home network, given the nature of the black box.
He ignores the thought and delves deeper still.
Unprocessed memories clutter the core of his personality data. He can barely make out the fractured white shape through the noise. It is collapsed inward on itself and stands only in the same sense that many ruined structures in the city still stand. There is nothing he can do about it. No deeper hack, no magic fix.
Massive but unintelligible pieces of his time in the tower float by him, blotted with phantom shades of black where the logic virus had muted or magnified his emotions. He forces them into order while never looking directly at them. They are ugly and painful to the touch, but they are his memories. Proper processing will take time, but for now it's fine so long as they aren't in his way.
The memory of V is the last. It is silent save for V's voice and the click of his cane, all other aural information irrelevant. Opposing tingles of fear and warmth race through 9S and again he is overcome with an unbearable longing for humanity. He leaves the unprocessed memory adrift.
"Humans need a lot of water too right?" he asks the void, knowing the pod can hear. This is likely the only way they can discuss V in camp at all without being overheard.
"AFFIRMATIVE."
"Is V going to be able to drink from any of the local streams?"
"HYPOTHESIS: MACHINE FISH IN LOCAL WATER SUPPLY MAY POSE A HEALTH RISK."
"Hmm… There's none at the oasis. We probably can't take V there through that huge sandstorm though..."
He trails off as he becomes aware of additional noise. There are no more unprocessed memories. The noise emanates from the jumbled heap of his personality data. As he closes in, one voice becomes clear. It is low, feminine. Infuriatingly familiar-and painfully tender.
"Don't worry...I'll take care of everything."
9S jolted awake into a motionless body.
"ALERT: MAINTENANCE MODE STILL ACTIVE."
"What was that?" he demanded over their connection. "I heard... A2."
"...AFFIRMATIVE."
"Why?!"
"HYPOTHESIS: MEMORY CONVERGENCE DUE TO COMBAT HACKING OF YORHA UNIT A2 AND SUBSEQUENT CURATIVE HACKING OF UNIT 9S."
"So that noise was...her memories?"
"UNKNOWN. BOTH UNITS WERE ACTIVE WITHIN THE MACHINE NETWORK DURING THE FINAL EXCHANGE."
"Let me up, let me up right now!"
"SUSPENDING MAINTENANCE MODE."
He shot up and swung his legs over the side of the cot. The heated pulse in his chest slowly died down only to be replaced by shivers in his arms. Eventually he realized his over-tight grip on the frame and rubbed at his wrists.
"Were you almost done?" he asked feebly.
"MAINTENANCE 89% COMPLETE."
Eleven percent wasn't the end of the world... but he couldn't risk it. He dropped back to the cot with an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, fine… Resume maintenance mode."
He entertained himself by looking through the pod's index of old world data. Medicine, fashion, biology… There was a lot to learn, and more to do.
"Mark the location of my weapons on the map," he ordered. More energetically, he added. "And do a scan for safe-to-use containers. Maybe I can just go get water for him. Or would that be weird? Will he think I'm treating him like a baby?"
"ALERT: UNIT 9S' CONVERSATION PATTERNS ARE BECOMING ERRATIC."
"Are not! Or…okay, I guess, I just…don't want to upset him. We got off to a bad start and I wanna make a good impression. Come on, Pod, help me out."
"ANALYSIS: OLD WORLD DATA SUGGESTS IT WAS A COMMON AND SOCIALLY BENEFICIAL CUSTOM TO WELCOME A NEW MEMBER OF THE COMMUNITY WITH PREPARED FOODS."
"I guess that's not all that different from all the materials we got when we first came here… Alright! After we pick up my stuff, let's look for one of those rare boars. And water from the oasis. Maybe we can even find some of those eagle eggs!"
He scarcely noticed the 11% pass.