11/09/2020
This was not going to plan.
"Can you reach it?" B9 called down. She had Flora by the ankles, the two of them dangling through one of the empty windows of the old Defense Bunker. Emil, in turn, had B9 secured with a cable wound around her waist that connected to a winch attached to his truck bed.
"Almost!" Flora made a grab and managed to clamp her fingers around the object in question. "Is this it?" she held it up for B9's inspection.
"Emil?" B9 asked in turn. Emil tried to lean forward to see, wheels teetering dangerously on the edge of the window frame. Everyone screamed as they all dropped six inches as a chunk of concrete gave way.
"Yeah, that's it!" Emil affirmed. "That's a set of headphones."
"Ooooh, there's more!" Flora reached and grabbed another set, just in case the first was damage beyond repair.
"Okay, pull us up!" B9 called over her shoulder.
Carefully, Emil backed up and began to wind the rope around B9's waist.
"Will either of these work with the CD player?" Flora held up a headset in each hand.
"I dunno. Let's see." B9 took the CD player and tried to fit the headphone jack into it, but it was much too big. She had better luck with the second. "Looks like this one will work. Let's take them both back to the Resistance Camp just in case."
"Okay," Flora agreed. Boosting Flora up onto Emil's truck bed, B9 clambered up after her and hung on.
"Alright, lets go!"
Riding with Emil was always an adventure. He liked to go fast and took flying leaps from one surface to another that even mom and dad would not have attempted. He always made it, though. B9 could never decide if it was exciting or just scary. Maybe a little of both. The three of them roared into the center of the Resistance camp, Emil's tires screeching loudly as he skidded to a stop.
"Here we are!" he announced as B9 hopped down and then reached to lift Flora down. "Let me know how it goes!"
With that, he sped off. B9 and Flora stared after him a moment before exchanging a shrug. That was just how Emil was. Big kids were cool, but they were also kind of weird.
"We need to make sure this works before we give it to Uncle 42S," B9 said, examining the CD player and headphones.
"How do these work?" Flora tried to fit the extra headset on her own head. "I don't even have any ears!"
"I don't think it's meant to fit Machines."
Flora sighed dramatically. "Nothing is."
"Let's go talk to the Jukebox lady. She should be able to tell us."
"Okay."
The Jukebox lady was impressed with the CD player, and offered to buy it from them. Upon learning it was for 42S, she changed her mind. Taking out a CD, she put it inside the little machine, connected the headphones, and fit them over her ears. She winced and fiddled with a small dial on the side of the CD player labeled "volume".
"Yep, nothing wrong with this thing!" she said brightly, taking off the headphones and handing it all back to B9. "It might need a new battery now and then. I hope your uncle enjoys it."
"Um...what would you like for the CD?" B9 asked.
"You keep it," the Jukebox lady said, patting her hands. "I have two copies of that one. You tell him to get better for me, okay?"
B9 wasn't sure she could do that, Uncle 42S was a little scary, but she nodded and put on a brave face. "I will. Thank you."
B9 was not, in fact, brave enough to face her uncle directly. Writing, she reasoned, counted as a form of communication and therefore she could fulfill the Jukebox lady's wishes without having to brave a face-to-face encounter. His eyepatch still frightened her. Instead, she took the card Uncle Pascal had suggested she draw along with the CD player and a small bunch of flowers contributed by Flora and peeked through the partially open door of his bedroom. Uncle 42S was not there. He and Mom had gone to see Aunties Devola and Popola. Carefully, B9 set the gifts down at the foot of his bed and then hurried from the room back outside to safety and Flora.
"There, that should do it," 4S announced.
42S waiting while the plates of his face slid back into place with a small hydraulic hiss. He blinked and squinted, waiting while his optical sensors adjusted to binocular vision again.
"How is it?" Devola asked, shining a small flashlight in his face. He dutifully followed the beam, eyes tracking it with only minimal lag that soon wore off.
"It's fine."
Devola's brows were faintly creased as she looked at him.
"What?"
"Your eye is discolored. Not much, just a little. You sure there's nothing off? It doesn't hurt? No lag or error messages?"
A tight, shivery feeling seized 42S' chest. "No. Why? What do you mean discolored?"
"Well, see for yourself." She handed him a small mirror and with more than little trepidation, 42S peeked into it.
It was his face with surprisingly little scarring. Devola, Popola, and 4S had done an excellent job patching him up. His hair was a mess. Androids did not, in theory, need to bathe, but only with consistent maintenance. It would be fair to say that he'd neglected his personal upkeep. It was unmistakably him- a rumpled, unkempt him- but with one small difference. His left eye was the same gray-blue he remembered, but the right eye was a pale violet.
"Oh shit…" he murmured. "Why's it like that? Am I still infected?"
"Not that we could detect," 4S assured him. "We both scanned you up one side and down the other. You're clean, don't worry."
"Then why is my eye purple?" 42S demanded, alarm rapidly escalating into panic. He knew for a fact the replacement eye had been sky blue. He'd seen it himself before it had been installed.
"I think it's a scar."
"What?"
"You're not infectious, but the Logic virus still left a mark, but that's all it is. Just a mark."
42S nodded slowly, not happy, but reassured that he wasn't at risk of infecting anyone. A scar. Yeah. Okay. He could live with that.
"I think it looks cool," Devola told him, pink tinting her cheeks. "Exotic. Not a lot of Androids with heterochromia."
"Hetero-what?"
"Heterochromia," she repeated. "It means you have two different colored eyes. Makes you special, not that you weren't already."
Cheeks burning, 42S looked away and rubbed at his neck, embarrassed. "I guess."
"No really," 4S insisted, patting his shoulder. "You look good."
42S smiled a little. "Well. If you say so."
Despite what Devola and 4S had said, 42S still felt a little weird going about with his eye uncovered. As war wounds went, it could have been way worse. He'd already had an arm and both legs replaced, why not an eye as well? Pod 219 no longer needed to provide a safety ring, but he still held onto her arm as he made his way back to 2B and 9S' apartment. He should really think about getting his own place, but the very idea made him feel tired. Maybe a short nap was in order.
Someone had made his bed for him- probably 2B- the blankets smoothed and neatly folded. He did a double take as he noticed a paper bag sitting at the foot along with a piece of paper. There was also a slightly wilted bunch of flowering weeds- Queen Ann's lace, chicory, and milkweed. He'd have to ask for a glass of water to put them in. The paper had a colorful drawing of trees and birds and flowers, along with the words: "Get Well Soon, Love B9 and Flora''. 42S smiled. B9 was a sweet little girl. He felt vaguely guilty about constantly scaring her, but wasn't sure what to do to make her feel more at ease. Setting the paper aside, he reached for the bag.
He almost didn't believe what he'd pulled out: an old fashioned CD player and headphones with a CD player already inside. It powered on when he pressed the button. Sitting down on the bed, 42S looped the headphones over his head and hit "play".
The first note brought tears to his eyes. 42S tried to hold it back, he was so tired of crying, but at least this time he wasn't crying because he was sad. For so long he'd been trapped in silence with only the mournful howl of wind and wolves to punctuate the endless noise of nothing. He'd never heard this song before, was unfamiliar with the artist, but listening was like reuniting with an old friend; one he'd feared he'd never meet again. By the time the CD spun to a stop, he'd stopped crying, but realized he hadn't truly heard any of the songs, or distinguished any of the lyrics, so he hit "play" again. It took him three tries before he could listen to a song without getting lost in it. Eventually, it soothed him to sleep, smiling, the sun warm on his back beneath 9S' cloak.
Perhaps because of his afternoon nap, he didn't sleep much that night. Things hadn't changed, not really, but he felt different somehow. He'd gotten back something he'd thought he'd lost. Everyone had lost so much, he was not special in that regard, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. 42S looked down at the tin in his hands. He still didn't know what to do about that, but maybe there was something else he could do. He wasn't lost anymore. Perhaps he could help to bring someone else back.
Standing, he tucked the tin in his pocket. Removing 9S' cloak, he folded it up and laid it on the bed. He'd be warm enough without it once he got started.