13.
"I can't analyse it." Nines sounds defeated. "Whatever this is, it isn't android technology. It's one hundred percent human, I'm sure—but, Ribbon, I think it's archaic. I think it was designed in the old world, so many years back that I cannot even trace it."
We stand, necks bent as we look down, our heads bumping. The wind is attacking us in relentless bursts.
"Wow." It's that old? "But I'm only—what? Fifteen years old?"
"I don't think you're the humans we came from. Well, that's not true. I don't think you came from the moon, is what I mean." He rubs his thumbs along the fabric of the ribbon, along the numbers. 098/100. "Maybe—maybe there's some humans who didn't make it to the moon and they got left behind and they've been surviving unbeknownst to machines and androids and even the other humans."
I breathe out through my nose. "Is that cool? It sounds cool, like I beat some crazy odds or something."
Nines laughs and the wind carries it away. "Yeah, it's awesome, Ribb." He steps back. "I think I'll have better luck with you."
"What d'you mean?"
"If I analyse you with the ribbon. Maybe it's connected to you and only activates under proper conditions." He walks in a slow circle now, head still bent as he inspects the ribbon. "When I go back today . . . will you come with me?"
I swallow.
I should.
I should, shouldn't I?
"I'll say goodbye to Pascal and the villagers." I'm shaking. "Give me one day. I'll say goodbye."
He smiles. "Okay."
I'll go back with him. I'll see him all the time, right? I won't lose track of him in the sky.
We stand in silence. He puts a hand up to fend against the wind and he sighs. He comes closer and hands me the ribbon. I take it. I'll hold onto this, then.
"How are you doing with all this, by the way?" He tugs at his gloves. "You seem to be accepting of the fact you're a human. Pretty impressive, considering you've had to alter your whole schema and all. So, are you? Are you doing well?"
I cock my head to the left, and then to the right. "Sure. To be honest—"
He spits out a little laugh.
"Huh? What?"
"You always say that, but when aren't you honest, Ribb?" He waves his hand. "Sorry, go on."
I flush. "Um, yeah. I am happy I am a human."
"Yeah?"
"At first, when I wasn't sure, I wanted it to be true but I was afraid of wanting it. What if it wasn't true, after all? What if I what I wanted was just an illusion?" I walk in a circle, pacing, mimicking what he did earlier. "It didn't really matter what I was. Human, android, machine, squirrel. It didn't matter. All I wanted to be was the thing that would bring me closer to you."
He goes still.
"Is that weird?"
He digs a knuckle into his eye. "Show . . ."
"Show?"
He covers his face with his hand. "Show some restraint." He makes a little noise. "How can you say something like that without batting an eye?"
My face gets hot. Why did it get so warm? I want to splash cold water over it.
That was one of those "embarrassing" things, wasn't it?
He drops his hand but still doesn't lift his gaze. He's cheeks are tinged too. Is it because we're both feeling the same thing?
Connections like these—why do I crave them?
"It's, um, weird." It's like I'm talking through mud. "But it's kinda fun, feeling like this."
He sucks in air through his teeth and then his shoulders slump. "Fun?"
"Oh. Do you hate it?"
He shuts his eyes and shakes his head. "No. You're like a pup sometimes, and then when you're like this, you're—well, you aren't a kid. You're fifteen. I guess that's . . ." He tugs at his gloves again, pulling and stretching them. "I wonder if you even know what kind of 'fun' you're referring to."
I don't know what to say. He's right. I don't know what I've invoked but he sure is acting funny.
He tilts his head back. "Or maybe it's me who needs to show the restraint?"
"Why do either of us have to do this 'restraint' thing?" I am so confused.
"Ribb, as a human, you can't say that to an android."
"Why not?"
"Because we're built to comply. I'll do anything you want me to."
I still don't know what he means but those words puncture me in a way that splits me. They make my mouth dry, my palms clammy, my heart rate accelerate. They make me dizzy and strange and a little scared.
The literature, the literature. I shuffle through my memories, my knowledge. Wherever did it explain a feeling so twisted like this? When I'm exhilarated and terrified at the same time? What is this and why do I want more of it as much as I want to cast it away? I want to run, maybe. Do I? But I want to do something else.
What is it?
What do I want?
I reach out, numb. Nines doesn't move. My fingertips graze the front of his jacket. They hook on a button on his chest.
The words leave me, soft and quiet, in a daze: "Tag . . . you're . . . it."
The wind dies down but leaves still stir around our boots.
Nines goes to speak but falters. He turns around, sudden, and I retract my hand as if I've been burned.
His spear is out, hovering close to his hand.
I stay silent, my heart in my throat. Is it a hostile machine?
He relaxes, only a little. "Oh. Hello, 2B."
What?
She's here?
2B steps into the clearing, her boots sinking in the grass. "9S, you've been neglecting your duties."
Nines offers a quick smile. "Not really, 2B. I'm tending to a human. Isn't that our duty, foremost?"
"9S. We have not been assigned to Ribbon." Her voice is void.
"Um." I step forward. "I—I asked him to play."
Nines abruptly shoves me back, behind him.
I waver.
Is she going to hurt me?
No. But he said—they said—
She wouldn't hurt me, would she?
"2B, it's fine." He sounds exasperated. "I'm still gathering intel and doing everything I've been ordered to. What I do on my own time is my business."
"But this human is clearly not our business."
I clear my throat. "Um, I don't think your command knows about me at all, 2B."
"That's unimaginable." She shakes her head, slow, from side to side. "9S, if it was just this—maybe I could let it go on—but it's—the Bunker. The Commander found your trail."
He tenses.
Has Nines been straying elsewhere, too?
"You've been accessing confidential information without authorisation, and Command has . . ." 2B trails off, averting her gaze. "I'm sorry, 9S." She pulls her short sword out from behind herself and assumes a stance. "I'm sorry."
She's going to attack him?
What? Why?
Isn't that a bit much?
I almost grab onto Nines but he moves before I can.
He attacks her first but she evades and their weapons meet. They move so fast my eyes can't comprehend, but they are moving further away. They may be trying to put distance between them and I, but I pursue. I'm slow, but they're distracted by each other. They appear here and there, quick and sporadic.
They swing and dodge. Their weapons clash, and at one point, Nines appears a fair distance away from her and holds his hand out.
"Pod, cover me." His voice is hard.
His pod opens fire while something appears at his open palm like a gathering of light.
But 2B is too fast. Her pod attacks Nines' pod. It veers into Nines, cutting off whatever he was trying to do.
And at that moment, 2B slices him. He tries to dodge but is too slow.
My stomach churns.
His arm.
She has destroyed it.
He clasps his shoulder and staggers away. He's been severed at the elbow. His arm hangs by a few circuits and tendons. I see stars. The sparks, the fluid. He's hurt. He's hurt.
2B attacks again, but Nines manages to evade. He's breathing hard and erratic.
"Fuck." He steadies his spear and then collects himself.
2B walks, calm. "Stand down, 9S."
They're fighting.
Aren't the partners?
Why did she hurt him?
Why did she hurt my friend?
I don't understand.
Nines raises his arm again, palm outward, and that light gathers again.
2B dashes behind a tree and Nines curses again.
She zigzags through the trees and then leaps out at him. Again, he's too slow. She takes out his other arm—also cutting it off from the elbow—and he hits the dirt on his knees.
She stands over him.
She pulls her sword back, readying, and—
—he gives a whispery laugh.
"I can still feel your hands around my throat." His expression is dazed. "Even when they're not there."
She hesitates.
And then she stabs him through the throat and my own heart stops.
Everything does, really.
The conception of time, touch, sound is meaningless. There is no wind to stir or sun to cascade across our skin. Birds don't call and if they were to, they would open their beaks and out would come nothing but a shrill scream.
Grey.
I read once, in a novel, that death can be pretty.
Flowers, resolve, peace.
But it isn't.
It is violent and grotesque.
It is Nines' choking on his own blood in front of me.
It is shell shock and sickness.
It is the hotness behind my eyes and the strangled plea in my throat. Please don't, 2B. She already has, but please don't. Please, please don't hurt my friend.
I can't feel my body.
She takes the sword out and Nines drops to his side. The lightness in his eyes dims to grey, and his expression fades.
2B stands over him for a moment. Silence. The loudest silence I've ever heard.
She knees, slow and robotic, and then slides her arms around him. She props his shoulders and head up onto her lap and her fingers touch his hair, threading through. She is shaking. Her hand drifts down his face. She brushes her thumb along his bottom lip. Her trembles cause her to slouch forward and she hugs him tighter, pressing him to her chest.
She's crying.
The thought crosses my mind like it's the simplest, most obvious thing.
Except—the books lie, or maybe the androids have a programming error.
You aren't supposed to kill the person you cry for.
Though it is similar to a disease, isn't it?
That "love" thing?
She lifts her head, still clutching him to her, but our eyes lock and something stirs in me so strong and thrashing it almost makes me throw up.
"Ribbon." Her voice is steady but laced with a hoarseness that makes it seem she's speaking for the first time in years. "The next time you see 9S, please avoid him."
The next time—?
He'll come back?
"He won't remember you. He won't be the same. The 9S you knew is gone so please don't bother." The words are mechanical like she isn't aware she is saying them.
I swallow.
"Stay away from him."
Is this what she meant?
She's gripping him so hard his shoulder has been dislocated. My head swims.
The first time I witness love is also the first time I understand what it means to hate.
The dream is done.
End Part I
AN: ;.;
I am really behind on review responding, but I will get back to you all soon! You guys are awesome. Thanks to the lurkers who crept forth!
PS: Yes, Ribbon is physically male, but I try to write him kinda androgyny because he doesn't partake in gender society norms aside from the literature he reads.