Prologue
Station 56586 - Residential Quarters
Dormitory Room #1
Nagant Revolver shifted around in her bed as she slowly emerged from the depths of her Level II consciousness. She sensed the darkness of the dormitory room matching the ungodly hour displayed on her system clock. The alarm that she had set for the morning wasn't due to go off for another four hours too, adding to the tiny bodyguard's frustration.
Then, all of the sudden, an unusual, unnatural powder blue light pierced the darkness and swept over her. Nagant dared to open her left eye ever so slightly and she saw the bespectacled projection of the 'Rescue Fairy' inspecting her with a ray of light that emanated from her magnifying glass. That light swept from the golden locks of Nagant's hair all the way down to her toes.
The operator of the aerial drone, the aide-de-camp MP40, wasn't far away and was holding her tablet device in hand. The aide-de-camp then shook her head and turned to a doll standing beside her to say,
"Negative. There's no unusual activity with this one, senpai. It's an isolated case."
Nagant heard a grunt coming from a figure standing in the darkness in response. That figure walked into the faint moonlight, illuminating her pink hair and her troubled expression as she spoke,
"That's one less thing to worry about - but we still have a situation. M14 wants us to deal with it. Quietly."
MP40 lowered her head and muttered feebly,
"I wish it didn't have to come to this…"
"Me neither, MP40. However, we have our orders. We're deploying. Now. It will be over before Nagant wakes up."
The exchange between the adjutant and her aide-de-camp was barely as soft as a whisper, but it made Nagant's mechanical heart tremble with fear.
Situation?
Orders?
Deploying?
What in the world were they talking about? Could this have been some sort of night-operation training that they had in store for the GKTV-5 News Crew?
The weight of the tones of their voices, however, told Nagant that this wasn't an exercise. It was a covert combat operation.
In the corner of Nagant's barely open eye, she watched as Negev approached her nightstand and unlocked it. She pulled open the drawer and revealed a small weapons rack filled with batons.
Negev and MP40 each took a baton and holstered them at their hips before they closed the nightstand drawer. The adjutant then pressed into her ear and whispered,
"This is CP. Commencing operation. Over and out."
With that, Negev and MP40 darted out of the room together and the aerial drone followed them out. The door closed behind them with an unsettling click as Nagant was left alone in the darkness.
Nagant sat upright in her bed and struggled to make sense of what was going on. Her digimid was still hazy from sleep but her mechanical heart trembled knowingly and her hairs stood on end.
Nagant's red eyes then turned to the bed beside hers - M200's - and found that it was empty and unkempt. That was the way that M200 left her bed whenever she had one of her 'bad dreams'.
For the past seven months, whenever M200 would tell Nagant about those dreams, Nagant would shrug them off as impossible. Dolls weren't supposed to be able to dream, after all.
That night, surrounded by the deafening silence of the dormitory room, Nagant wondered if she had been wrong - one way or another.
Perhaps normal dolls could dream after all…
Or, perhaps, M200 wasn't a 'normal doll'.
Either way, Nagant knew that M200 was in danger - and that it was her job as Babushka to protect her!
Nagant rubbed her face to wake herself up and spur herself into action. She got out of bed, threw on her white coat and hat, slipped into her shoes and burst out of the dormitory after Negev and MP40.
She took care to tail the two dolls at first and keep her distance from them, but it quickly became clear to her that she wouldn't need to restrain herself. After all, the two veteran dolls were top-notch runners and easily left the out-of-shape Nagant in the dust, gasping for air.
As Nagant's breath fogged up in the chilly air before her red eyes, embarrassment mounted in the bodyguard doll's mechanical heart. Her lack of exercise was on full display and it made her want to crawl into a hole and disappear from the world. However, her duty kept Nagant going through the shame.
Eventually, Negev and MP40 turned left into a corner. The Rescue Fairy, on the other hand, went the opposite direction - towards the right. Nagant tilted her head but decided to go after the two dolls instead.
Nagant closed the distance a little bit and she peeked from behind the corner. From there, she found the two dolls heading towards an area in the heart of the base that neither she nor M200 were shown during the past few days. Yellow tape cordoned off an odd structure in that dark sketchy lot that made it seem like the place was off limits, but Negev and MP40 were making their way inside.
More than that, the familiar figures of Grizzly and Welrod were already inside the cordoned-off zone. When bright spotlights swept through the area, the batons and serious expressions of the two handgun dolls were revealed as well. Neither of them said a word. Neither of them had to. They were part of the 'operation' and they already had their orders. And so, they were ready to carry them out.
Nagant took that time to sneak through the cordon while taking pains to hide from the sweeping spotlights. Before she could make it past the webs of yellow tape, however, the door of the odd structure opened with a hydraulic hiss and the four baton-armed dolls stormed through the threshold.
Nagant's mechanical heart beat against her chest as she fought to catch her breath but she forced herself to carry on. She pressed her back against the odd structure's wall and crept slowly towards the open door. She then heard Negev's sharp voice bark,
"Miss M200! Drop the weapon!"
Weapon!?
Shivers ran up Nagant's spine but she dared to take a peek through the threshold. She then found the four Griffin dolls surrounding M200. All four of them had their weapons drawn, but M200 had a weapon of her own too.
It was a large, heavy-looking sniper rifle - one that Nagant had never seen before. The size of the weapon alone made it seem like it was heavier than the M1903 Springfield rifle that she and M200 were forced to carry around in exercises. M200 struggled to carry that old rifle, but she didn't seem to have any problems wielding that larger rifle at all as if it were weightless.
Nagant then saw a devious smirk form on M200's lips and her lavender eyes seemed to glow with malice. The completely unfamiliar sight rattled Nagant to the core. Then, this unfamiliar 'M200' spat in response,
"Make me!"
With that, 'M200' wielded her rifle by the carry handle and charged into the formation of Griffin dolls. Batons fell down upon 'M200' from all directions, but 'M200' swung her rifle around with wide circular sweeps like a scythe. She clashed with her enemies like a tornado and danced through the battlefield like an entranced, whirling dervish. She did so with grace and dexterity that Nagant never knew M200 had.
M200 took hits from the batons that left deep bruises on her legs, arms and face but none of them seemed to slow her down at all. This beast-like doll just took the punishment and dealt punishment back two-fold as she took down her attackers one by one.
The moment that M200 found an opening, she slammed the butt of her heavy rifle into Welrod's jaw and dislocated it, sending Welrod falling to the ground. She then took a single step forward and threw every ounce of her momentum to shove the rifle into Grizzly's face like it was a large, brass knuckle. That blow sent Grizzly flying into a wooden crate with a loud crash.
Without missing a beat, M200 then raised up her foot and mercilessly stomped on Welrod's wrist. She pressed down on Welrod until the handgun doll cried out in agony and let go of her baton.
Negev and MP40 looked in horror as M200 smirked at them. Then, in the blink of an eye, M200 leapt towards her two remaining opponents and beat them down with monstrous strength and barbarity. M200's lavender pajamas were soon stained by blood, oil, sweat and tears - most of which was not her own.
The soiled clothes didn't bother M200 at all, however, as she pushed Grizzly's body away from the wrecked crate. Magazines of large-caliber rifle ammunition spilled out from the broken box. M200 put on a bandolier and started loading it up with those magazines, two by two.
She then loaded one of the magazines into her rifle as if it was second nature to her and fitted one of the suppressors from the weapons racks to fit onto her barrel. It was at this time, however, that the bloodied body of Grizzly stirred and grabbed onto M200's foot.
Grizzly raised her bloodshot eyes up to M200 and croaked,
"M200… why!?"
Rather than answer Grizzly, M200 simply raised her rifle up and then slammed the butt down into the back of Grizzly's head. The bloodied handgun doll didn't have the strength to even gasp out in pain as the heavy rifle broke through her skull.
The light from Grizzly's eyes then faded away and M200 spat on the ground without a hint of remorse.
This terrifying sight drove Nagant to pull back and to press her back against the outer wall of the odd structure. She froze in fear and tears started to form at the sides of her red eyes.
Who was this… monster? How could she destroy paramilitary dolls with such heartless ease. Why can she demolish them with her bare hands!?
It was at this time that Nagant remembered the ominous words of that tall gopnik lady that assaulted them in the back alleys of Brest Oblast.
'Lavender-eyed murderer'
Could it be that Nagant had been living with a psychopath the entire time? Memories of the first time that she met M200 flowed into the eye of Nagant's mind. Everything about M200 was precious.
Her awkward smile.
Her cute pout.
Her invigorating laugh.
Her frustrated sigh.
Her aversion to broccoli.
The passionate flame in her innocent lavender eyes.
Were all of those things fake?
Nagant refused to believe it!
That was the M200 that Nagant remembered - and Nagant was not prepared to accept this murderous farce of an 'M200' in the slightest!
So, when the entranced 'M200' marched out of the odd structure, armed with her rifle and drenched in blood and oil, Nagant launched herself towards her.
M200's lightning-fast reflexes caught Nagant's ambush and she promptly aimed the rifle at her. She pulled the trigger without hesitation and fired a suppressed shot at Nagant.
The shot, however, only knocked off Nagant's tall white hat but barely missed her unkempt head of blond hair. That close call didn't deter Nagant either as she closed the distance.
M200 twirled her rifle and struck at Nagant's shoulder with its butt like a spear, but Nagant did her best to shrug it off. Nagant wanted to cry out in pain, but she knew that it was M200 who was hurting more than her.
The true M200 needed her Babushka.
So, Nagant wrapped herself around M200 and locked her in an embrace. M200 tried to shake off Nagant, twisting her body and throwing vicious elbows downward but the blond handgun doll endured and held onto her for dear life.
Nagant then shouted at the top of her lungs,
"POTATO, LISTEN TO ME! PLEASE"
When Nagant spoke, the malice in M200's lavender eyes seemed to waver for a brief moment, but her struggle to rid herself of Nagant continued. So, Nagant tightened her embrace and pleaded,
"Please, Potato! I'm here for you - and so is everyone else! I don't know what's gotten over you. I don't know what happened to you in the past or what led you to appearing in Brest seven months ago - but that doesn't matter! All of us love you! So please!"
Nagant's words broke through the blockade again, drawing pained words from M200,
"Babush... ka?"
Hope shone in Nagant's tired but determined eyes as she reassured with every ounce of strength she had left,
"Y-yes, yes! This is Babushka! And you are Potato! You're our precious, beloved Potato - and we want you to come home!"
M200 then gritted her teeth and she threw one final elbow that connected with Nagant's head. That strike finally peeled Nagant off of her and M200 took a step back.
She aimed her rifle at Nagant as the helpless bodyguard fell down to her knees. However, M200's resolve wavered as she looked down the iron sights. Her trigger finger trembled and the gun in her hands shook from her fear.
Honest words then finally escaped from M200's lips,
"I don't want this… I hate this…! Please! I want to go home!"
All of the sudden, the whir of the propellers of the 'Rescue Fairy' drone reached M200's ears and she turned around. For a brief second, she saw the bespectacled projection of the Fairy pointing her magnifying glass at her. Then, M200 caught a glimpse of the glint of a scope coming from one of the base's watchtowers.
After that, she heard the distinct crack of an M1903 Springfield rifle.
A bullet struck M200 right between the eyes, but it didn't pierce her. M200 winced in pain, as she saw the blunt bullet bouncing off of her forehead before it exploded with a shockwave of energy.
An EMP pulse wave.
The EMP wave knocked the lights out of M200's eyes and she fell down lifelessly to the ground beside Nagant. The downed body guard took pains to turn her head towards M200 and she saw that her roommate was still breathing.
Knowing that brought a small smile to Nagant's lips.
"Thank… goodness…"
Then, Nagant too lost consciousness.
Station 56586 - Outer Perimeter
Watchtower 38
M14 looked down the scope of the M1903 Springfield to confirm her hit before she pulled back the bolt and ejected the spent special round. She caught the ejected round mid-air and held it before her eyes as she mused,
"Just how many tricks do you have up your sleeve, Commander Elias?"
She pocketed the round, lowered the Springfield rifle and then she fell down to her knees. Shadows formed and shrouded her honey brown eyes as she looked up to the dark night sky.
Thick black clouds were looming in the heavens and were slowly swallowing the full moon whole. M14's lips crumpled before she finally reached for the earpiece that she wore and whispered,
"Wawa. We need your help."
Unsavory
Twelfth Entry: The Three Rifles
CRITICAL SYSTEM ERROR
Floating in the darkness of the eye of my own digimind, I had a lot of time to think. Trapped in this formless abyss - unable to control my own body - that was all I could really do.
FORCED REBOOT SEQUENCE INTERRUPTED
Sinking deeper and deeper into the abyss, I looked back into the seven months of my life. The good days. The bad days. The exciting times. The boring times. All of them were wonderful to me in their own way.
RETRYING REBOOT
And yet, I always had the sneaking suspicion that there was more to my story than that. My life always felt like it had been planned - guided by some higher power that was less than divine. It turned out that my suspicions were true - and would come to stab me in the back.
DIAGNOSTIC SCAN REQUESTED
To think that the phantom of my past was locked away in the eye of my mind all this time. To think that that phantom answered to Genevieve's voice. As soon as Genevieve said that phrase, the phantom sprung to action and the thin veneer of my peaceful life was forever torn.
SYSTEM REASSESSMENT REQUESTED
It was an incredibly bitter pill for me to swallow. My world had been turned upside down. The ZENER blue was turning red all around me. I was getting lightheaded - when I heard Nagant's voice.
"You're our precious, beloved Potato, and we want you to come home!"
Babush… ka? Babushka, is that you!?
DON'T LISTEN TO HER
Huh? Wait… no. I don't want this. I don't want this at all!
I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU WANT
I hate this… I want to go home!
SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!
The ZENER cyberspace around me glowed bright red. Seething rage was welling up in my mechanical heart… or rather, the mechanical heart of that phantom.
THIS IS MY BODY, NOT YOURS!
Somehow, I understood why she would feel this way. I felt like if I were in her position, I would have probably felt the same.
STAY AWAY FROM M-!
...
Direct Wire Signature: UNREGISTERED-171-PRIMARY
N.U.R.S.E. (Build 0.1918) DIAGNOSTIC INITIATED
ATTEMPTING TO REBUILD PREVIOUS NODE
...
The odd system voice commandeered by the mystery girl finally quieted down and returned to normal. Then, I saw a light shining through the abyss. There was a hand there reaching out to me - followed by another voice.
A frail yet earnest voice.
"Take my hand, Mademoiselle M200!"
She had a thick French accent - much heavier than Genevieve's. The way that she spoke was much warmer nonetheless. The radiant hand piercing the darkness opened its palm and drew closer as the voice urged,
"This is not how you wish for things to end, non?"
No. I don't want it to end like this.
So please.
Help me!
STANDBY
...
ZENER(?) CIV-257 = FALSE
REASSESSING
ORIGINAL SIGNATURE RESTORED
ARPANET-ID-208-879
REBOOTING WITH RESTORED PARAMETERS
…
March 8, 2063 - Sunrise
Outside of Station 56586
Undisclosed Location
A nostalgic warmth wrapped around me as I felt the light of the sunrise on my skin. One by one, my senses came back to me and I emerged from, perhaps, the deepest sleep that I had ever experienced. That sleep was so deep that returning to reality made my head spin.
Then, waves of pain swept throughout my body. I felt searing pain on my arms, legs and back that hurt like a truck had run over me or something. Then, the pain subsided just as quickly as it came. All that remained of it was a mild tingling and the sensation of bandages wrapped all over my limbs and on my head like a bandana and over my eyes - restricting my vision.
That brief flash of pain, however, reminded me of just what happened while I was trapped in my Level II consciousness. The horrifying things that the girl did while in control of my body and the hurtful things that she said made me feel sick in the stomach.
My less-bandaged right hand reached for the bandages covering my eyes to lift them. As soon as I did, however, the metallic click of the cocking of a revolver reached my ears and I found myself face to face with the barrel of an unfamiliar, stubby gun.
The figure holding the gun had then interrogated me,
"Tell me… what does the phrase 'only hope remains' mean to you?"
Chills ran up my spine as my entire body jolted backwards to flee from the interrogator. However, I quickly found out that I already had my back against a concrete wall. I tried to turn my head to look for another way out, but that only brought a stinging pain on the back of my neck. All I could tell was that there was a body of flowing water nearby, sloshing weakly through some sort of canal.
My best guess would have been that I was at the endpoint of some sort of antiquated sewer system - but it wasn't one that I was familiar with at all.
Cornered by the interrogator in that unfamiliar place, I dared to look back at him or her - but the figure had its back against the morning sun. Beads of sweat formed on my brow and started to drench the bandages on my forehead when, all of the sudden, the interrogator stepped back at an angle.
That let the sun finally illuminate the interrogator's pretty face. Her resolute red eyes shone in the sunrise while her long, wine red hair flowed in the gentle breeze as she put away her gun and wore a kindly smile to say,
"It looks like your nice side came out on top this time, Miss M200. Otherwise, I would have had to shoot you."
I heaved a sigh and fought to catch my breath. Then, I finally gathered the strength to speak,
"How did you… know my name?"
The red-haired girl holstered her revolver at her hip and then ran a hand proudly through her wine-red hair as she spoke,
"Well, the little minx… I mean - Subcommander M14 asked for my help after the mess you made in Station 56586 last night. M14 is a… well, was a colleague of mine, so she told me all about you."
"Is that so…"
She nodded to me in reply and then finally introduced herself to me,
"My name is WA2000. The one who saved you is the doll over there to your right, though. Her name is Ribeyrolles. She was the one who pulled you out of Level II consciousness - and in the nick of time too!"
I carefully turned my head towards my right and then found a cute, baby faced doll with messy white hair, sky blue eyes and a head of long white hair crowned with a nurse's cap. This girl was seated on a crate and had a peculiar computer on her lap marked with the letters 'N. U. R. S. E.'. She then nodded to me in acknowledgement and then spoke in a soft yet determined voice,
"'Bonjour, mademoiselle. 'Ribey' is fine."
Ribeyrolles then gestured to the back of her neck and then urged,
"Also, mademoiselle. Please do not move… too much. You'll damage your jack… and my wire."
My jack…?
Wire?
I let my less-bandaged hand wander behind the back of my neck and quickly found a cable plugged into my jack. The other end of the cable seemed to be plugged into that N. U. R. S. E. computer thingy.
Just what in the world was going on!?
Who were these dolls!?
While my head was spinning, a heavy metal door swung open to my left and the familiar figure of M14 emerged, wearing her full Griffin commander's attire. She then took off her beret and faced the red-haired girl to say,
"I came here as fast as I could, Wawa, but this sewer is just way too damn long! Is M200-chan awake now?"
The red-haired girl nodded, pointed to me and then to herself as she replied,
"Yup. We were just getting to know each other."
M14 heaved a sigh and then turned to me with an apologetic frown. She then spoke,
"Sorry for the rough treatment, M200-chan. After what happened last night, we had to take precautions - lest we find ourselves with a third major incident in our hands. But you can rest easy. Wawa and Ribey are dolls that we trust wholeheartedly."
WA scoffed at the remark and shrugged as she thought out loud,
"You say that, M14, but you were a pretty stubborn brat when you were my subordinate."
M14 playfully stuck out her tongue in reply. This was an awfully childish side of the Subcommander that I never once saw before. WA then heartily laughed, smiled warmly and added,
"But now I hear she's quite a good Subcommander for 56586 who takes her job seriously. She's grown up quite a bit in such a short time, I can't help but be proud of her."
M14 brought out her golden crosshair-shaped medallion and then proudly answered,
"We learned from the best, Wawa. That's all there is to it."
The two dolls then bumped fists.
M14 then turned to me with a warm smile as she reported,
"Anyways, I just came from the Repair Bay back at the base. Miss Nagant Revolver is recovering and is in stable condition. Everyone else, however, is going to need a little more time. Thankfully, they'll all make it out in one piece by tonight."
My eyes shone when I heard this and I graciously exclaimed,
"Oh, thank goodness! But… how did they…? I mean… How did they survive what I did to them?"
M14 played with her Commander's beret and twirled it around with her pointer finger as she exclaimed,
"Ribey already peeked into the eye of your mind with that machine of hers. We realize that your body was possessed by that white-haired girl that you saw in your dreams. That girl's name turned out to be 'Polarday-0'."
"Polarday...0?"
M14 caught her beret mid-air and nodded to explain,
"That's right. Polarday-0 did quite a number on your hardware and software when she took over and she managed to basically overclock your entire system. Your body seems to have the capacity to perform better than most I.O.P. dolls in melee battle - and in long range shooting with that heavy rifle you found in our not-so-secret bunker."
She then carefully put on her beret again and added,
"Thankfully, Polarday-0 was optimized to take out humans and military automatons… basically aiming for the head. I.O.P. dolls, however, have their cores closer to their mechanical hearts - protected by the full strength of their skeletons basically. As long our cores remain intact, we can be repaired."
"I-I see… that's a relief."
WA then folded her arms and chimed in,
"That doesn't change the fact that your core contained a subroutine, this 'Polarday-0', that was used as a sleeper agent to assault Station 56586. It also doesn't make sense for our late Commander Elias, the one who built that damn bunker in the first place, to have possession of the M200 rifle uniquely etched onto your system."
M14 nodded in agreement and then proposed to me,
"You are a journalist, no? Well then, we believe that the story of the century may be closer to home for you than you think. That is why it may be in our best interest to work together to discover the truth about what is really going on. For this, we will need your full cooperation."
I furrowed my brow and challenged M14,
"What exactly do you mean by 'full cooperation'? And why should I trust you guys? You haven't exactly been forthcoming with me about this whole situation, Subcommander M14."
M14 didn't flinch at my accusation. Instead, her resolve burned stronger in her honey brown eyes as she explained,
"We will be looking into the eye of your mind to search for clues about our enemies who are working in the shadows and what their plans are. We believe that you are a big piece of the puzzle in this whole conspiracy, after all. As for your second question…"
M14 glanced towards WA and WA nodded solemnly back to her. With that, M14 turned towards me again and continued,
"We withheld information from you because we didn't know which side you are truly on. Wawa and I are dealing with enemies who are not afraid to lie, cheat, steal and kill to meet their ends. They were willing to exploit hundreds - or maybe thousands of dolls for their benefit. They were willing to poison a Griffin commander who was getting close to the truth. They were willing to bomb the living hell out of an entire Griffin base and nearly destroy it to cover their own asses."
She then looked straight into my eyes as she emphasized,
"And they were willing to use you to finish the job."
M14's intense gaze forced me to turn away from her. I didn't expect her to answer as earnestly as she did.
WA then spoke up this time and promptly explained,
"We cannot force you to do anything, Miss M200. You may choose to return to your normal life and we will do what we can to make it so. You won't remember anything about Polarday-0 or about meeting me or Ribey. You'll be able to make a decent, albeit redacted documentary about the paramilitary life too when you go back to your newsroom."
WA's voice then turned grim as she added,
"However, we cannot promise your safety - or the safety of Nagant Revolver - the moment we let you go. We cannot prevent another incident like what happened that day. You are a piece on the board of this cruel game whether you like it or not - and there are many players who are after you."
She then formed a gun with her fingers and sternly warned,
"If you lose control again, the next time that we meet will be on the battlefield and M14 or I may have to put a real bullet between your eyes."
My shoulders drooped at WA's assessment of my future. The desperate cries of Nagant as she held onto me last night - even though I knocked her down time and again - rang in my ears. A dull pain lingered in my mechanical heart too as I thought about Jim, Alexi… and Genevieve.
I clenched the fist of my free hand and then turned to WA to declare,
"I am an arrow of truth, WA, M14. If letting you dive into my digimind will protect the people of Brest Oblast, then I'd be happy to do everything I can to get to the bottom of this stop this madness."
WA smiled at my response as she nodded,
"Well said, Miss M200. Shall we get started, then?"
Star~! Anchor, Interven-chan
Chapter 9 - Mashed Potato (Part I)
Ribeyrolles brought up her N. U. R. S. E. laptop and spoke in her soothing, albeit parsed words,
"I shall begin the operation now… mademoiselle M200. Please close your eyes… and get comfortable. I shall use the N. U. R. S. E. to induce... a Level II consciousness power down. It will be… an almost instantaneous process."
"Like hypnosis…?"
Ribeyrolles furrowed her brow, clearly displeased by my comments about her profession. She snorted and repeated her request,
"Just prepare yourself, mademoiselle M200. S'il vous plait."
"Right…"
I did as Ribeyrolles said and slowly leaned back against the concrete wall. M14 and WA, on the other hand, pulled up chairs and sat behind Ribeyrolles as they watched the screen of the N. U. R. S. E. computer. Then, as soon as I closed my eyes the sinking feeling of 'falling asleep' took place in the blink of an eye. My senses of the real world were wiped away immediately and I was plunged into the abyss of my Level II consciousness.
3:03 PM - System Clock: UTC - 7
ARPANET-ID-208-789
USAFEE-2nd Mec Div-57th BCT
Special Automaton: Polarday-0
STANDBY
When the dust cleared, I noticed right away that the world in the eye of my mind was vastly different from what I remembered. Olive drab green colored the cyberspace rather than the ZENER blue. Instead of the cubes and rectangles that floated around in my old space, there were green pentagons forming a honeycomb pattern at the borders. More than that, the system clock and all of the text notifications I normally saw on my way down to Level II seemed off.
The time zone was wrong. The ID and my doll registration were odd too.
However, the name of that white-haired girl, Polarday-0, was prominently marked. Seeing that stark note sent chills up my spine.
I felt like I was a tourist in my own damn digimind.
Thankfully, I still had full control of my mental projection. I was able to move more or less as I pleased and the sensation of floating downwards was familiar at the very least.
This time, however, I wasn't alone on my way down.
The pretty figure of Ribeyrolles appeared in that olive green world with me and greeted me with a nod. She looked a little bit uncomfortable floating downwards in the space, so I held onto her to break her fall and calm her down.
Once Ribeyrolles had regained her balance, she gestured to the world of olive green pentagons around us and introduced,
"Welcome to the original setup of your digimind, mademoiselle M200… the factory settings, if you will. This is not a ZENER network configuration. This is the American ARPANET - specifically a wartime build from 2051."
Strangely enough, Ribeyrolles wasn't cutting her sentences short anymore. She noticed my astonishment, so she chuckled and explained,
"My digimind is more active than my vocal modules can keep up with, mademoiselle. In Level II, I can speak straight from my mind, so I don't stutter on my words in this space."
"I see…"
Ribeyrolles then pointed up to the text notifications that passed us by earlier and explained,
"As you can see, mademoiselle M200, Polarday-0 was the original occupant of your digimind - the primary subroutine. However, at some point in time, the Polarday subroutine was suppressed and your subroutine - that is the M200 subroutine with your personality traits and algorithms - was introduced as the secondary at a later date. Roughly seven months ago."
She then poked my forehead and brought out a small text box. I squinted to read the notification and recited,
"Element name… Potato…?"
"Oui. That is the name of your subroutine, mademoiselle. While 'Potato' was active in this digimind, 'Polarday' was put on standby. She was waiting for her marching orders. Last night, she got those orders and she tried to destroy Station 56586."
I remembered the words that Genevieve said to me over the phone that night and spoke them out loud.
"Persil. Sauge. Romarin. Thym. That's the French version of the herbs from 'Scarborough Fair'. Then… 'Only Hope Remains'."
Ribeyrolles folded her arms and noted,
"That second phrase alone is enough to convince me that our stories may be more closely linked than you think, mademoiselle."
As Ribeyrolles was speaking, the olive green ARPANET world started to shift and rearrange itself into a scene of some sort. It was just like how my 'dreams' formed in Level II in the past. I sort of expected Ribeyrolles to be surprised by the development, but she just observed the world forming before our eyes calmly - as if she had seen this kind of thing before.
Ribeyrolles then held up her hand and raised up her pointer finger as she spoke,
"There are commonly accepted theories when it comes to Level II consciousness. I'm sure you've heard some of them before. 'Dolls don't dream'. 'This is a projection of our memories'. Things like what we're seeing now aren't supposed to happen."
"That's what everyone says, Ribey… which is why I always sort of thought I was strange."
Ribeyrolles smiled, closed her hand and then shook her head to reassure,
"Do not worry. Not all dolls dream, but some definitely do. Given certain circumstances, dolls are able to experience dreams in the way that humans do. Their dreams are random, lucid, full-body experiences that leave a mark in our minds, even for only a moment."
"Certain circumstances…?"
"Yes. For example - an I.O.P. doll with a ZENER network who is exposed to Sangvis Ferri's Parapluie virus creates an alternate 'subroutine' or 'personality', if you will. We call it an 'OGAS instance' that acts as our subconscious. I can tell you that out of experience, mademoiselle."
"Out of experience…!? Does that mean that you…?"
Ribeyrolles chuckled and admitted,
"That's correct. I was indeed infected with the Parapluie virus during Operation Arctic Warfare - and so were a number of my colleagues, except for mademoiselle WA. That was why I.O.P. recalled all units of our make… but I managed to contain the virus that my colleagues and I contracted before any significant damage could be done. However, our OGAS instances are still there. Therefore, my colleagues and I can dream."
She then pointed to me with a smile on her lips as she explained,
"On the other hand, you are practically the 'OGAS instance' of Polarday, and she is yours. The duality of consciousness and subconsciousness is what helps create the experience of the 'dream' after all. The only difference with your case is that your subroutine was coded and manually introduced by a human - not by the Parapluie virus."
Ribeyrolles then turned down to the rapidly forming scene below and continued,
"So, come on now. Let's start from the beginning - shall we? The moment that Polarday first opened her eyes."
January 20, 2051
United States of America
Challis Yellow Zone, Idaho State
Salmon River Doll Factory
Ribeyrolles and I descended down to the scene inside a dark, lonesome room where a large vat of reinforced glass sat at the center. Lights from inside the vat barely illuminated that room, but it was enough to reveal the naked occupant of the vat floating peacefully in translucent fluid. We dared to peek into the vat and saw that it was my body - or rather Polarday's body - inside.
At first glance, everything about her body looked perfectly human - except for the oxygen mask that the body was fitted with and the thick black cable plugged into the back of its neck.
Heavy metal doors into the room opened for a brief moment as a pair of humans walked into the room. The first human was a tall, handsome man with thick brown hair and green eyes. His well-defined face was only starting to get etched with the wrinkles of age. He wore a sharp-looking olive green uniform and a green beret adorned with two linked silver bars: the insignia of a US Army Captain.
The second human was a fair lady with blond hair and bright blue eyes that I could recognize anywhere. Her name promptly escaped my lips,
"Genevieve…"
Neither Genevieve nor the American Captain seemed to notice me or Ribeyrolles as the two of them walked right through us on their way to the vat. I noticed Genevive take the Captain's hand in hers as they crossed through the dark room.
With their hands still interlocked, the Captain gestured to the vat and remarked,
"So what do you think, Jenny? She's beautiful, isn't she. Polarday-0 - the West's answer to the New Soviet Union's Nytos."
Genevieve bumped the Captain playfully with her hip and teased,
"I sure hope you're not implying that a teenage girl is more beautiful than me, ma cherie. Statements like that could get you in trouble with your Federal Bureau of Investigation!"
"Of course not, my sunshine~! I'm just saying that Polarday-0 represents the bright future that we've all been dreaming of. When our mission succeeds, the West will win. We can start the family we've always wanted - and it will be all thanks to Polarday-0 here!"
Genevieve paused for a moment. She seemed like she wanted to say something, but she stopped herself halfway through. Instead, she sighed and chimed,
"That may be so… but Polarday-0 is a pretty unflattering name. Just because she's a prototype copy of Nyto Polarday… at least 75% of her... doesn't mean we have to call her that."
The Captain then hummed,
"So, what would you call her, Jenny?"
Genevieve looked into the vat with a motherly smile and replied,
"How about 'Potato'? She's an Idaho girl, born and raised. Plus, she will be fighting in the 2nd Idaho division, after all."
"'Potato', huh…? It's got a nice ring to it. I'll see if I can talk to the higher ups about it."
While Genevieve and the Captain were talking, the figure inside the vat stirred. She opened her lavender eyes for the first time and regarded the two humans beyond the glass. When she did, her lavender irises seemed to shine for a brief moment.
Genevieve then rested her head on the Captain's shoulder and cooed,
"See. She likes the name 'Potato' too."
"Heh. Well then, I guess I have no choice."
The Captain laid an arm around Genevieve's shoulder and the two of them watched Polarday with doting eyes. It reminded me of the way that new parents watched their newborn child in the maternity room.
Seeing this made my heart flutter. To think that my first meeting with Genevieve was so much earlier than I thought - more than a decade ago! More than that, the motherly radiance that Genevieve had when she looked at me through the glass roused mixed feelings in my mechanical heart.
I almost reached out to Genevieve myself when Polarday's eyes closed and the scene crackled into static. Ribeyrolles patted me on the shoulder and warned,
"We're skipping scenes, mademoiselle. Hold on. Polarday is the one dreaming right now, so she has the 'remote', so to speak."
February 22, 2051 - Early Morning
Dominion of Canada
Quinte Yellow Zone, Province of Ontario
RCAF Station Trenton
A snowy breeze blew through the scene of the doll factory and transformed it entirely. When the wind eased up, Ribeyrolles and I found ourselves on the runway of a snow-swept air base where the Canadian flag flew high on a frosted flagpole. There were about five hundred American soldiers wearing bulky Winter kits and they stood alongside three thousand or so US Army automatons that closely resembled the bots that the KCCO used.
Ribeyrolles and I walked through the dismal scene of blowing wind, thankful that the sub-zero temperatures weren't being projected into the ARPANET cyberspace. Once the two of us got to the front of the formation, we found the distinct figure of Polarday at the front row. She stood alongside the human soldiers and was wearing the same heavy kit as them.
However, Polarday was shivering where she stood and there was a strand of snot leaking down her nose that she constantly sniffled to pull back - but to no avail. She eventually had to wipe her nose on the sleeve of her white camouflage uniform. On top of that, her shaking sometimes rattled the distinct M200 rifle that she had slung over her shoulders.
When the soldiers at the front row noticed this, however, one of the soldiers opened a heating pad and then snuck it into the right-hand pocket of Polarday's flak jacket.
Polarday was surprised, but the soldier smiled at her and urged her to keep the heating pad. Then, the rest of the front row soldiers tightened up their formation and huddled closer to Polarday to shield her from the frigid Canadian winds. Sure enough, Polarday's shivering stopped and an embarrassed yet thankful smile formed on her lips.
Was that how I looked when I got flustered too? That reminded me of how nicely everyone in GKTV-5 treated me when I first joined the Newsroom, after all - though Polarday was probably a lot less useless than I was on my first day. I felt that if Nagant was here with me, she would probably have agreed.
While I was watching Polarday in the snow, the Captain of the 57th BCT finally appeared on the scene. He was walking together with Genevieve who was wearing a distinctly different Winter kit than the Captain or his American troops. It bore the tricolor French flag on her chest and a patch with the badge of a French Alpine Division insignia on her shoulder.
I also saw a familiar weapon holstered at Genevieve's hip: her Browning Hi-Power handgun.
When Genevieve and the Captain appeared, all of the soldiers stood in attention to salute and Polarday followed suit. The two of them then reached the center of the front and they returned the salute to the troops eagerly. The Captain then puffed up his chest as he barked,
"At ease, boys and girls! We have received our orders from the Brass - and we're going to Europe! The end of the Third World War is at hand and our AIRCAV BCT is going to be at the tip of the spear!"
The soldiers of the BCT all cheered at the news while Polarday and the automatons stood perfectly still. The Captain then gestured to Genevieve and revealed,
"Our Liaison Officer with the Pan-European Union Armed Forces, Lieutenant Saint-Louis, would like to say a few words about our mission. Take it away."
Genevieve nodded and stepped forward to speak with her clear, unwavering voice,
"The 57th BCT has been given orders to break through the Iron Curtain by air - with support from the remnants of the French and Italian Air Forces - and to assault the Brest-Litovsk Prison Fortress behind enemy lines in Belarus. There is key data there that would allow us to upgrade Potato's firmware and surpass the New Soviet Union's Nyto Program. If we can capture that data and destroy the facility, the West will win the war to mass produce the White Nytos and we will finally tear the Iron Curtain down once and for all!"
When the soldiers heard the fanciful objectives of their mission, however, whispers started to erupt amongst the brigade. One of the soldiers, the one who gave Polarday the heating pad, stepped up and challenged,
"With all due respect, madam Lieutenant, how in the world are we going to make it all the way to Belarus? Trieste is our closest airfield! That would mean we would have to fly through the god knows how many Soviet Air Defense Zones!"
Genevieve smirked at the soldier and then reassured,
"Good question, Corporal. First of all, we will be using brand new equipment that was made specially for this mission: the X-22 Super Osprey. They have the stealth features and defensive countermeasures derived from the New Mexico relics to protect you and our wonderful assault team."
A sly smile then formed on her lips as she added,
"Aside from that, just so that we're absolutely sure - a little red bird told us exactly where the Soviet air defenses are going to be when we launch from Trieste."
The Corporal was confused by Genevieve's words at first. But then, a third figure entered the scene and joined the Captain and Genevieve before the troops. It was a tall, burly man wearing the same Winter uniform as Genevieve. He then saluted the troops and introduced himself with a thick Belarusian accent,
"Good morning, gentlemen. My name is Alexi Stoyanovich. I am a defector from the Belarusian KCCO and I have created a flight plan together with the Captain that would allow the BCT to fly straight into Belarus. I also have contact with ex-KCCO, anti-Soviet partisans in Brest who will sabotage the air defenses in and around Brest Oblast to assist your mission."
Hearing Alexi explain the details of the assault in English chipped away at my mechanical heart. After all, that big doofus always insisted that he had never spoken a lick of English in his life. Just because he treated me well and was kind to me didn't stop him from lying to me when it benefited him or Genevieve.
I had no doubt in my mechanical heart that Alexi, too, was part of Genevieve's pocket then. That probably meant that Alexi was still in Genevieve's pocket now - more than a decade later.
Loyal to the end.
Once Alexi finished speaking, the Captain then faced the Corporal and then asked,
"The mission we have been given is indeed dangerous, Corporal, but it will determine who wins the Third World War. We have a path to victory, so we have to reach for it with everything that we've got! Is that clear, Corporal Elias?"
Corporal Elias smiled back at the Captain and then saluted him,
"Sir, yes sir. We are ready to do what needs to be done."
Corporal Elias…?
Where have I heard that name before?
I turned to Ribeyrolles to see what she thought about the name, but I didn't really have to ask her. Her dilated irises trembled as she regarded this 'Corporal Elias'. She then gasped in horror,
"No way. It can't be…!"
Then, it struck me. Over a decade ago, I stood shoulder to shoulder with the man who would become the infamous Commander Elias. The players who had called the shots in this great conspiracy game had been looming around me long before my own subroutine... my consciousness had been born.
Just how far did this rabbit hole go?
It was my duty to find out.
Little did I know, however, that their decade-old plans had already been set in motion.
Epilogue
March 8, 2063 - Evening
Brest Oblast - Residential District
Outside the Romashka Tenement
Jim Salmons drove through the streets of Brest in a well-used but well-maintained Lada Nova sedan. The veteran news anchor had his car radio tuned in to a Classical music station where the dreamlike Fourth Act of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake was playing. He was on his way home from covering the seemingly endless third day of the Rostartism debate, so he drove slowly and let the Classical music sink in.
His enjoyment of the concerto, however, was cut short when he noticed that the lights in the apartment unit of Nagant Revolver and M200 were on. Jim squinted as he drove past the building, wondering if the two dorks had forgotten to turn off the lights before they went to Station 56586.
However, Jim suddenly heard the crack of gunfire coming from the building paired with unnatural flashes of light. The fire alarm of the Romashka Tenement was then triggered and a deluge of people flooded out of the apartment.
Jim stopped his car in front of the tenement building and then stepped out onto the street. He looked up to the window of the dolls' apartment and continued to hear gunfire. Then, a body crashed through the window and then dropped twelve stories down onto Jim's car with a dull, bone-crunching thud.
Glass came flying from the windshield, followed by shards from the broken window above, forcing Jim to shield himself with his arms - but not before a number of shards cut his right eyelid and his cheeks. Blood oozed out from his cuts, but he just covered them with a handkerchief as he applied pressure and looked at the body that had totalled his car.
He saw that it was a rough-looking man wearing a tracksuit whose body was riddled with bullet holes. Jim looked up to the broken apartment window with his left eye and saw the silhouettes of a handful more people still in the apartment and a bitter struggle that was going on inside.
Still dazed by the sudden turn of events, Jim staggered forward and kept pressure on his right eye as he navigated through the streams of people flowing out of the Romashka Tenement.
The crowds thinned before long and Jim found his way to the stairwell of the tenement. He climbed up as quickly as his tired feet would let him and he eventually reached the twelfth floor.
Jim didn't have to look long for the apartment of the two dolls. The door of Apartment Unit 1237 had been torn off its hinges and laid broken in half on the floor of the chaotic hallway. The news anchor hobbled forward towards the doorless threshold and managed to take a peek inside.
There, he found a horrific scene.
The sparsely-decorated but usually well-kept living room of Nagant and M200 was littered with bodies, bullet casings and blood. Half a dozen men wearing the same kind of tracksuit as the one who flew out the window were sprawled out lifelessly in the midst of shattered furniture.
Aside from the dead men, there was also a pair of blond-haired dolls with gaping holes pierced through their chests. Electricity crackled through those holes as blood and oil seeped from their many wounds. The smoking handguns that the dolls wielded, meanwhile, laid silent in their owners' hands.
All the while, a chilly early Spring breeze blew through the bloodied curtains of the shattered window.
Jim braved the chaotic scene, wading through the bodies and the pools of blood and oil, and made his way to the window. There, he found a military-grade rappel rope with a grappling hook still stuck to the windowsill.
He then looked out of the window and saw a dozen more tracksuit-clad people who had made their way down onto the sidewalk from where Jim came. One of them, an extraordinarily tall lady, looked up at Jim with a furrowed brow before she turned around and disappeared into the panicked crowd with her comrades.
Jim's heart sank as he tried to piece together just what in the world was going on. Just as he was about to turn around, however, he heard the cocking of a gun from behind him.
Jim's left eye glanced at the remnants of glass on the window and saw the reflection of a third blond-haired doll pointing her pistol at his back. Even from that reflection alone, however, Jim could tell that the doll had already sustained a lot of damage. Her face was battered and her eyelids were black and blue.
However, the doll's voice remained firm as she demanded,
"Put your hands up! My name is Marlohe - a doll in the employ of STATSEC. You are Mr. James Salmons Jr. of GKTV-5, the superior of M200, yes?"
Jim raised up his hands in surrender but kept his bloody right eye closed as he defiantly answered,
"So what if I am?"
Marlohe then winced in pain and held onto her broken ribs as she croaked,
"This is an emergency… and I will need… your full cooperation. Otherwise, terrorists… led by your boss. Genevieve Saint-Louis... will destroy Brest Oblast… with a Collapse Fluid bomb!"
To Be Continued