9.
Pascal already has big, round eyes, but if they could widen any further, I am sure they would.
9S and I approached him together and now we're standing beside him like it's the perfectly natural thing to do.
"Oh, my." Pascal is frozen for a moment, but then he begins to shoo the children around him away. "Later, we'll play later, okay?"
Half the children cling to Pascal and half cling to me. They tug at my clothes.
"It's Ribbon! Play with us, Ribbon."
I push them off. "I can't right now."
They whine but eventually disperse to do their own thing.
I turn to 9S but whatever I'm about to say dies on my tongue. He's staring at me with an expression I've yet to see him wear. It's almost spooked.
Is seeing machines interacting with me like this that disturbing to him?
He snaps out of it. "Mind talking in private, you freaky machine?" 9S sounds like he's joking but he might not be.
I lean away. I've never really heard anyone talk to Pascal like that. Everyone here talks to him with wonder and respect. Well, the children are a bit brattier, but 9S does not seem to really like Pascal much.
I guess he doesn't trust machines, but . . .
"Hi, Pascal." I feel like I have done something terrible, but I haven't. Have I? "I met 9S."
"I see that." Pascal does not seem to know how to proceed.
9S looks back and forth between Pascal and I. "Anywhere we can chat?"
Pascal is quiet a moment. "Yes, inside. Inside." He makes his way to our house, the one we share which isn't much. One room for him and one room for me. Pascal's side is bare except for books scattered around while my room is similar, but I've got my blankets and a change of clothes and a bunch of nuts and berries I snack on.
I make a seat for 9S out of books. I remember reading about human hospitality and one important thing is to make others comfortable when they visit your home. So this is like that. 9S is visiting my home.
We all sit.
"So." 9S' voice has an edge to it. He has drawn his sword and it hovers behind him.
"9S!" My own voice startles me.
They both look at me.
I flush. "Put that away. Don't point that at Pascal."
9S obeys immediately. His sword vanishes.
Right. Because I'm a human? My face gets hotter. He listened to me, just like that.
9S looks away, his jaw tight. "So, ask."
"Uh. Um, yeah." I shift. "Pascal. Pascal—I'm not—I'm not a machine, am I?"
"Oh, dear." Pascal's rickety fingers fidget. "This is quite complicated."
"You think?" 9S looks at the ceiling. "What are you playing at? Is Ribbon some kind of hostage for you? If you've done anything to this human, I will destroy every last machine in this run down village."
My mouth pops open.
"9S." I push my foot against his boot. I've got to remember androids and machines aren't friendly. I've grown up with Pascal. He raised me with the other machines but 9S had no such experience. He's a soldier and from what I've learned about him, it's all he has known.
But I don't want him threatening Pascal or the village.
"Oh, my. No, I have done no such thing, 9S. Please understand I have nothing but the best intentions for Ribbon." Pascal sets his hands in his lap. "We have had a good relationship with you and 2B thus far, so . . . 9S, please do not threaten the children. They have done nothing wrong."
9S' eyebrows rise. "Machines? Nothing wrong? Your kind has driven Ribbon's kind to near extinction, and you wanna tell me—"
I push harder, stepping on 9S' foot, and he cuts himself off.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
I clear my throat. "Pascal, uh, basically I want to know what I am and why I am here."
"I am sorry, Ribbon, that I couldn't stop the androids from finding you." Pascal is speaking in his usual gentle tone, but it sounds sadder somehow.
9S twitches. "What?"
"I did not want you to be dragged into war, is all. It is nothing against androids, 9S."
"You think a human is better off in machine hands? Am I processing this right?"
"It is not a matter of machines or androids. It is a matter of the environment. My village is peaceful and I wished for Ribbon to grow up knowing peace, even if it cannot last."
"By raising him like this, you've made him completely defenseless," 9S snaps. "This is a world full of killing. You've basically raised him in a mine field without teaching him how to avoid the mines!" 9S' sword is back out—not aimed at Pascal, but visible. "He is not equipped for reality. How can you—" He stops to take in a breath. "How could a machine even perceive they have the intelligence—or the right—to raise a human?"
I swallow.
What is this?
I wanted to know how I got here but there's more to it than that.
My stomach feels raw. I didn't really think 9S and Pascal had much to talk about. Why didn't I think there was politics to all this that would go over my head?
This is a world full of killing, 9S said. Maybe 9S' reaction to machines is more acceptable than mine. Which one of us is valid? Can it be both? It can, can't it?
Why not?
He's really fascinating and I can't take my eyes off him.
He's talking on my behalf. Am I supposed to feel what he is feeling? If I was more informed, would I understand his emotional state and would I feel it too?
Pascal has done nothing personal to 9S, and yet 9S is still upset.
Humans do this, I know. So androids do, too. Empathy. Machines aren't good at it, but it comes natural to 9S.
He is feeling things on . . . my behalf?
9S catches me staring and maybe he thinks I'm mad because he settles down a little.
"Um, but." I clear my throat again. I have to control myself. "But how did I get here? If I am a human, where did I come from? Where are the other humans?"
Pascal is quiet.
I wait.
"Well, you see," Pascal says, "I found you nearby."
9S shifts and his jacket brushes my shoulder.
"There were other humans around," Pascal continues, "but they were all dead."
My spine tingles.
Oh.
So there were others.
"Dead?"
"Killed by machines, most likely. I am sorry. You were the only one I found alive. And . . . each human had a ribbon around their wrist with a number on it."
I touch my wrist even though the ribbon has long been removed.
"We burned all traces of the human bodies because we did not want anyone—machine or android—to find out we had a human in our village."
"Why did you take Ribbon?" 9S asks.
"Because he was a child, alone, without a way to survive on his own. A victim of this senseless war."
My first memory. Being held by something cold and kind.
Pascal took me in like that. My real family's dead. Killed by the same kind of species that saved me.
That's—
That's hard to grasp. It shouldn't be hard to grasp, but it is. I've always thought of machines and androids in simplistic terms, like "androids are bad," but among androids, I've made a friend. Machines killed my family, but I've been raised around machines that are also my friends.
Within every group are individuals. It's easy to generalise, but I can't do that anymore.
I can't keep being so naive.
It's like 9S said. The world isn't peaceful or quiet like this village. I have to snap out of the fairytale I've been living in.
"You took in a human even though the sole reason for your existence is to kill humans?" 9S cocks his head. "You want to tell me you have some kind of emotional intelligence that can override your own written code?"
"Since we have disconnected from the network, 9S, unimaginable things have occurred." Pascal spreads his arms. "Like this village. We have made peace with the Resistance, even if it is thin, and we are trying to make peace with YoHRa as well."
9S goes to speak but his pod floats in front of him and he stops.
"Unusual vital activity detected within 9S' emotional regulation facilities. Proposal: 9S should remove himself from the situation in order to reestablish a calm connection."
9S starts. "I—"
"It is alright, 9S. The village and myself aren't going anywhere. You are welcome to speak to me anytime," Pascal says.
9S stands. "Ribbon, come with me."
9S leaves without another word.
"Um, can I?" I half-stand.
Pascal titters. "You don't need to ask me, do you, Ribbon?"
I've always asked Pascal for permission for things, but lately I've been going off on my own. Maybe now that the truth is out, our relationship has changed.
I pass Pascal, then stop and retrace my steps. I lean down and hug him.
"Oh, my. It is always a shock, how warm you are." Pascal's thin arms come around me.
I pull back. "I don't know why 9S is this upset."
"You will, one day, and by then I hope you understand where I'm coming from too."
We let go. Well, I could never yell at Pascal.
I hurry after 9S.
I can tell the direction he went because the machines are all facing the left. I hurry that way and spot 9S at the edge of the village, staring into the trees.
"9S." I stop beside him.
My stomach lurches.
He has removed the blindfold. His eyes are bright and blue and beautiful—eyes defined by human characteristics like emotions, intelligence, thought. He looks more real now, like if I were to grab hold of him there wouldn't be the chance for him to slip away like particles in my hand. He's not going anywhere and that makes me so happy I could puke.
He speaks like he's in a daze. "No matter how many times terrible things happen, this feeling comes back. A human, who I never thought I'd meet, and now: a pacifist machine. A machine who not only refrains from killing humans, but who saved one. If Pascal had not saved you, I'd have never met you."
I sway from side to side, teasing. "Pascal's pretty cool, huh?"
"How can I feel thankful towards a machine? Every instinct is telling me I am being deceived because this cannot possibly be true, and yet—again, it's that stupid feeling. Hope, I think."
"What do you mean?"
"No matter what happens, no matter what shit we have to go through, is hope just something we come armed with?"
9S is full of words and wonders that the machines around me may never possess, and it's because of this I want to spend all the time in the world with him.
Although hearing him talk like this terrifies me because one day, inevitably, I'll understand what he's saying.
"I always thought the road to peace was eliminating all machines. Believing in a future where there is peace between humans, androids, and machine life forms is for suicidal idiots." He drops his head and shuts his eyes tight. "Why am I such a suicidal idiot? Even though I know better? Why am I like this?"
I tense and grab his arm, tighter than I mean to. "I like how you are!"
His laugh is quiet. "That's not the issue, Ribbon."
"But it's true, anyway. Why are you sad when you should be happy?" I tug on him and he makes a startled sound. "9S, Pascal's a good guy and I haven't been mistreated and everything worked out okay, didn't it? Then why are you staring off into the trees like another machine just stole your favourite foot and ran off with it? I mean—if you were a machine, you could relate to that." I let go of him. "I'm bad at this."
He grins, but it's forced. "Are you okay, Ribbon?"
I falter. "What? Sure."
He regards me.
I shrug. "I mean, I think so."
"See?" He sets a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. "We're similar. We've both just had some serious belief-shattering happen, right? You know how it feels to have the ground disappear from beneath you."
I'm happy, I think. I'm happy because being a human means 9S and 2B and even all the other androids will want me. I'm happy because the contact and connections I've been craving won't stop. It won't stop.
"Ah, I gotta get back to the camp." His hand falls.
My chest spikes. "Wait. Wait, can't you stay a bit?"
"I can't stay."
"You can sleep here." I grab onto him, hugging his arm to me, and he tenses.
He wriggles. "Sleep? Surrounded by a village of weirdo machines?" He laughs. "Uh, no thanks."
I cling.
"Ribbon." He wrestles me off. "Please."
Right, he gets funny when I touch him too much. Whatever. I latch back on. "I don't want you to go."
He lets out a breath against my ear. "Ribbon."
"Don't go."
He stiffens, and then relaxes.
We are both quiet as I clutch onto him.
"Okay." It's like the word has been wrenched out of him.
I take a step back.
Oh.
I ordered him.
He won't meet my gaze. His ears are red, like mine get.
"No, never mind." I hear myself say the words before I register them. "You'll get in trouble."
What was I doing, begging him to stay?
He'll get hurt.
Judging by 2B's solemnity, the repercussions of him getting caught isn't a wrist slap. I'm understanding that now.
He straightens his jacket. "Yeah, there would be huge repercussions."
"Ugh, then don't give into me!" I wave my hands. "I'm just being spoiled."
He grins and finally looks at me. "So you realise it?"
I grin back but inside it's like something is trying to scratch its way out of me.
Didn't I just decide not to be naive? Isn't clinging to 9S like a sappy child naive?
In order to keep him around me I have to be tactful.
"What about if I said I wanted to go back with you? To the camp or the Bunker or wherever?"
"Do you?"
"Eventually, yeah, I think so. I can't stay in this village. I'm a human, after all."
He nods and takes a step away.
"You'll come back?" I ask.
"Yeah, of course. In the meantime, can you do something for me?"
"Yes?"
"That ribbon with the number on it Pascal mentioned." He holds up his hand and taps his wrist. "If it's still around, can you find it for me? I want to see if I can analyse it. It might lead to answers or even other humans."
"Okay!"
He hops down the wooden planks that serve as steps. The further he gets the more the scratching intensifies.
I sit down.
He waves and I wave.
The wind ruffles the leaves of the trees, making them hiss and whisper.
He was going to stay.
He was going to listen to me despite knowing the chaos it would cause. Androids are designed to protect humans. He's designed to protect me even at the cost of his own social system collapsing. Should I call it that? Or should I call it his chain of command? Little red specks dance in my vision and my breathing speeds up.
I nibble at my thumb nail, flicking it against my teeth, and fixate on the spot in the woods he disappeared into.
If I wanted to, I could make 9S stay with me forever.
I bite until I taste blood. I pull my hand away with a surprised sound. I've never done that before.
I suck at the blood, perturbed.
What am I doing?
I don't know how long I sit for. None of the machines approach me, which is unusual. Pascal maybe asked them to give me space.
Well. I'm not a machine, after all.
I curl up, pushing my forehead into my knees until there's pain. It feels like I've lost something really important while simultaneously gaining something wonderful.
In my head, something's stitching and unstitching like tedious needlework—in, out, looping and catching.
AN: On a less creepy note, all the Finally's! in the reviews had me laughing so hard! You guys are the best :b