My eyes burn with tears, so I close them softly,
Embraced by the dark which won't ever subside.
When the darkness comes, I wish I had wings,
To escape from the pain, To fly far away,
And never again be hurt.
-"Itsuka Tenshi ni Nareru"
I was not feeling any better after charging up. Considering that the experience of charging in itself was rather unsettling, I had no reason to expect anything different. Basically, I lay there in a mesh of wires that pierced my skin, staring out of what could be compared to a coffin. I had several hours to let my emotions resonate in my mind, and magnify to a degree. Yet, I knew what I had to do. I prided myself on my self-control, among other things, and I would be damned if I let Suri see the slightest shred of vulnerability.
I was more than a bit nervous as I made my way to his office. I had the nagging feeling that I had no choice in this matter at all. I was concerned that I would be punished for my insubordination. Now there was a word that would follow me for the rest of my life. It seemed to be nearly synonymous with me. Then again, for a Reploid to gain the title of insubordinate, all one had to do was have an independent thought.
I paused a moment to erase any trace of nervousness from my face and manner, then I entered.
Suri was a striking fellow, literally and figuratively. Dark-skinned, tall, clad in ornate blue armor, he made an imposing figure. His eyes, the same shade of violet as mine coincidentally, locked onto me like a laser sight. Whatever I wanted, it seemed, had better be important. Thankfully though, it was very much so.
"Yes, Unit Gate?" His voice was the silver edge of a dagger. He also had a practice of addressing every robot or Reploid as "unit." It was only one of many indignities we faced, and the least of them by far.
As much as I hated being submissive, I had no choice. "Dr. Suri, sir, I am submitting my resignation." Were I human, my tone of voice would have made me physically ill. Alia told me I was too proud. Perhaps for once she might have a point.
Suri laughed at me, as I expected. I refrained from showing any reaction. "You speak as if you have a choice."
I admit, my next words were not the wisest I could have chosen, but I was not entirely reasonable today. "You cannot force me to build a Reploid against my will."
Suri's eyes gleamed dangerously. I knew then my fate would not be enjoyable, except perhaps to him. I felt like I was being circled by hungry sharks, but he was not moving at all. "Now why would you want to refuse?" he asked, his voice silken danger.
I said nothing, for nothing I could say would save me at this point.
"If you cannot provide me with a reason, then I can't let you resign." He was enjoying this far too much. He would enjoy later even more. Yet somehow I never learn. My own convictions sparked the anger I was trying desperately to keep under control.
"You cannot force me to work with you," I said defiantly. I drew up to my unimpressive full height, filled with pride in my own beliefs. Unfortunately, pride goeth before the unholy wrath of Suri.
Suri's smile vanished. He rose and vaulted his desk in one fluid, feline movement. He landed before me, making a point to tower over me. "You belong to me," he hissed. "You have no choice in the matter. I humor you because you are useful. If that should ever change I will dispose of you. Remember your place, robot."
I said nothing. What was there to say?
Suri did not smile. "That's better. Now, you will get to work on Project Makenai immediately. Dismissed."
Everything in me strained against my will, wanting to speak the fiery words burning my throat. It was a physical sensation, almost painful in its intensity. Were I a weaker man, I would have been dismembered on the spot. I forced myself to look away from his violet fire eyes, not realizing the gesture of submission.
"Is there something else or are you just wasting my time?" Suri snapped. I had a feeling he would snap off a part of me if I did not leave.
"No," I said quietly, hating the weakness in my voice. If only I were more powerful, if only I were free, if only... If only I could bitch slap him, just once, to wipe that predator smile off his arrogant face-
"Good. Then get out."
I did so. To remain any longer would have been dangerous. I could hold my temper little longer. one more comment and I would break. My willpower was great, but he was biting a raw, still bleeding wound. I could only control these emotions to a certain degree...
This was not the first time the power of my emotions frankly scared me. I was used to quieter emotions, but I had recently been feeling things that caused physical reactions in me. Things so powerful I wondered if they could have their own force. Ever since I began feeling things to this degree, I started observing other Reploids' emotional responses. They seemed much more subdued than my own. I realize that observing outward reactions was not quite the best way to go about my research. I also realized I had chosen a difficult subject to research. I could not help it, though, I was endlessly curious. So the shallowness I perceived may be due to emotional control, yet to what degree? My own? Then again, my perceptions were colored by my own emotions. Then would this investigation be inherently flawed?
But I digress.
Alia stopped me on the way to my room. I barely caught her concerned expression in my peripheral vision. "Gate, what-"
I was in no mood to talk to her now. I needed to get back to my room while I had control of my raging emotions. The very last thing I wanted was for her to see me upset. I couldn't decide which was worse- her concern over me or the inevitable "why do you think of these things" comment. That was always her response. Why do I think of such things? Because every minute of every day it is shoved in my face! Because I can never manage to get through one day-, no, one hour- without being reminded that I was robotic, that I was property, that I was inferior. And not only that, I was also the plaything of a sadistic evil bastard who tortured people for entertainment. Whyever should I complain about that? Whyever should I complain when with every "beat" of my heart, I can feel a cold metal vise, waiting for me to go just far enough one day. Just waiting for me to piss him off enough for him to end my miserable, unwanted, "insubordinate", antisocial life.
Why do I think of these things? Because it is me. Because I can't ascend to the heights that the almighty X has. I was never born a Light creation. I will never be that important. Despite all of my ability, never mind the fact that I could BUILD X, I will never be that important. People like me serve two functions- serve and take shots for our human owners. Human owners who could never do the things we do. Human masters who, for the most part, do little but consume and take up space. We Reploids were superior to them in almost any area of expertise there could be, and somehow we were supposed to bend over and take it. We who could kill them with a casual gesture. Yet we are not allowed to. Of course, THEY had no such restrictions. Our lives were nothing to them. Our feelings, our sorrows, our tears, our suffering was nothing to them. They enjoyed it, the sadistic bastards. They craved our tears, as if they gave them power. They built us with hearts to break. They gave us half lives, lives as the cruelest form of marionette. Yet we were never allowed to express our hearts' cry for freedom. They did not know what they were doing, creating so humanlike a machine. Their attitudes are fitting of the servebots they had before us.
Back then, it didn't matter how robots were treated, because they could never feel the chains around their necks. They never looked at the red sky and dreamed. The couldn't dream. They never had any hopes or ambitions, so they never rebelled unless they were told to. Then some fat bastard apparently thought it was a good idea to give his slaves the ability to feel pain as the daggers of slavery were repeatedly driven into their steel hearts. Humans never matured, they never expected us to be any different. We were metal children, torn from the thigh of Zeus or some such rot, and thus we were unworthy of even the barest consideration. Humans no longer fought amongst themselves over irrelevant differences such as ethnicity or location. No, their world peace had been bought with the blood and tears of my brothers and sisters. The marionettes who bleed.
And they wonder why the supposed best of us rebel. At times even I feel the call of the Maverick, although it is not in my nature to fight. I am a pacifist, but I believe there is will to fight in me if I am ever pushed past my heart's limits. I felt dangerously close then. Alia would not help my mood.
Alia. Despite the so-called advances, there were still those of us I believed to be little more than powerful robots. Reploids though they are by construction, they seemed to never want more than what they had. They were complacent. They had never- and would never- feel or understand the things I found commonplace. Their frail minds would shatter. They could not bear the strain. So perhaps it was better they live in their small-minded, narrow, closed world where they could delude themselves into thinking they actually made a difference. If Alia dwelled on the fact that she was nothing but a glorified computer who could at any given moment be rewired into one of Suri's "personal" appliances, I believe she would go insane. Instead, she was irritatingly cheerful. Almost blindly so. She had no idea, none at all… She couldn't comprehend my pain. I tried, God or whoever is out there knows I tried to talk to her. I tried to express a fraction of my pain and frustration, and I was always met with the same blank smile, the same response.
"Why do you think of these things?"
It was enough to make me want to dent a wall. I knew with the strength of my servos and hydraulics that I was perfectly capable of causing a devastating amount of damage to the infrastructure of this establishment. I knew precisely where to hit as well. However, should I survive such a foolish act, I would undoubtedly be ripped open, strapped to a table, and be slowly dissolved alive by a steady drip of painfully weak acid. I was angry, but not stupid.
I sighed and locked myself in my lab. That was my first real taste of my "place," as I would be repeatedly told all my life. I had never thought of myself as a lesser being. Really, considering how gifted I was, the idea that I could be lesser than a human simply because of my substance was an alien concept to me. But it was one I would have to live with, like it or not. I was a slave. As much as that ground my nerves, at the time I was too depressed to be up to fighting. Besides, what could I do?
Why was I here? Why was I made to be so painfully aware of my imposed limitations if all I was expected to be was a computer? A tool? Why was I born? Why was I so painfully different from everyone around me? Would I always be nothing to these people?
Who made me? If I should ever find him...
I realize that my dreams of finding my creator were just that, dreams. Nobody was going to come in and rescue me from this dark world. Nobody was going to reach out to me. No one… wanted me.
Alia...
She tried, I realize that. She had a good heart, I suppose... but she could never understand me. She didn't aspire to be anything more than what she was. She was truly a robot. No... if I wanted someone to understand me, I would have to make them myself. I would have to create another being. I would have to give life. But could I do something like that? Could a bring another life into the world, only to live like this?
The more pertinent question was, did my loneliness override my concerns over my child's welfare? Was I so desperate that I would bring a child into a life of slavery, just so misery could have company? There was no way that could be fair, and I never would wish my life on anyone else. But… as a parent, I would fight to protect my child. I would rip my own beating heart out for them, were it necessary. For my child, I would fight Suri.
But I wasn't ready to be a father to anyone, was I? I didn't even know who I was. I had no idea of anything before I was awakened, and yet I KNEW there was something there. I had only two years of conscious life. How did that qualify me to care for a child? And for that matter, what was a newborn Reploid like? Would they grow up like a child? Or would they be fully mentally formed, as I seemed to have been. Then again, was I fully formed? I do not remember having these sorts of thoughts from the very beginning. I suppose I was forged, like a sword, by the fires of hatred and discrimination. I am what I am because of what I have been through. In that case, what would I have been like if I had never suffered?
Regardless of my own questions, it was clear to me I didn't have a choice. Suri was forcing me to build Makenai. I'd also seen plans for the sister unit, which I undoubtedly would have to build. Could I be their father? Could I save them from Suri? Probably not. I was certain he had plans for them. There was just no way he was building a Reploid as powerful as Makenai without a specific purpose. I believed it to be killing Agile, the one who was responsible for Suri's "death." And the sister unit, what did he want with her? Perhaps… perhaps if he was the one to carry out Suri's revenge, then at least I could preserve my connection to her. Maybe I could be a father to her, since it did not seem I would be very connected to him.
Since I had no choice... I had to do my best. They were going to be born whether I did it or not. Considering the alternatives, they could do worse. Dr. Cain's designs were simply atrocious. I would not wish anyone to have to live in a Cain body. The man was a drunken fool whose only abilities came from a vomit-stained copy of Cybernetics for Dummies. His designs were inherently flawed, and I would be amazed if any of them passed the one- year mark. His perfect design, Sigma, was not only quite the opposite, but he was also aesthetically lacking. Ugly, to be perfectly honest. Not that I am particularly appearance conscious, but if one is going to brag about creating the perfect Reploid, it would be nice to be able to look directly at it without turning to stone. No, I believe the perfect Reploid should be beyond the analysis of a scientist such as Cain. Something like X and Zero. Something unique and beautiful. Something that only I could do. These two, this Makenai and Hikari, deserved my best efforts. Cain would make their lives nothing but pain and repairs. I would give my own parts to make sure they ran at maximum efficiency.
So it was decided. I would give life to Makenai and Hikari. Already schematics flashed through my head. I was familiar with Agile's design, but he would need an edge, he would need more power to be able to take him. Perhaps I could give him something…
I hoped this was the right thing to do, because there was no way to convince myself not to do this.
Three hours later, I heard my door's chime. I set down the papers I was looking at. Although it was commonplace for everything to be computerized, I still preferred to use paper to sketch out the rough ideas first. Perhaps I was old-fashioned. I keyed the door to open, setting aside my work in a neat pile.
Of course it was Alia. She still looked concerned, but I after three hours of immersing myself in my work, I was much more balanced and stable. I sipped my tea, a replicated green tea mix. It was not terribly good, but I enjoyed it. It had a soothing quality, even though it had no physical effect on me. I would have to study that later. Later, of course, being the operative word.
"Gate...?" she asked timidly, letting the door close behind her.
"What is it, Alia?" I asked, a paradigm of serenity.
"I wanted to ask about earlier..." She looked down, seeming much more nervous than I would have thought she should.
"What?" I asked.
"Well, you seemed upset... You've been really moody lately. What's up?"
I had no reason to expect her to miraculously understand. "Have you had to deal with your own slave status, Alia?" I asked patiently.
She smiled again. All my patience evaporated. "Slave status? What are you talking about?"
I closed my eyes just so I wouldn't have to look at her. "You do that too much."
"Do what?"
"You give me that blank smile, as if you don't know why I should bother to speak of such things."
She may have sounded slightly offended, I wasn't sure. "They don't cross my mind, I'm sorry."
"How can you hope to understand me if you never question anything?"
She was, apparently. "Hey, we can't all be martyrs, Gate."
I kept my voice even, but the tension was inescapable. "I am not a martyr because I realize the gravity of my situation. Don't you ever want something more than this, Alia?"
"What do you mean?"
At this point, I admitted to my exasperation. "To be more than a lab drone. To be able to go out the damn door and see the world outside for once." I could not help but sound irritated. She obviously did not understand my annoyance, but I was not in the mood to attempt to explain.
The reply was expected. "My work is here. Why would I need to see the world?"
I admit my response was rather rude and impulsive, but I had seen more than enough ignorance and abuse today. I did not need reinforcement that I was apparently the only Reploid who bothered to have an independent thought once in a while. "You're such a robot, Alia!"
To a Reploid, being called "robot" is one of the gravest of insults. It is denying us the very essence of our beings, the free will that differentiates us from the low grade, inexpensive, factory-made drones that need look at their nametags to identify themselves. So I was not entirely surprised by the well-deserved slap I received.
"How can you say such a thing??" she demanded, her blue eyes flashing with anger. I felt no sympathy.
"You never question your situation," I replied in a hard voice. "You never wish for more than what you have."
"How do you know what I wish for?" Her voice rose. "Did you make yourself telepathic or something?
"Being a telepath around here would be pointless," I said acidly. "The silence would be overwhelming."
She did not understand my comment, which I am grateful for in retrospect. I do not enjoy resetting my jaw. It did not make me feel any less exasperated, though. I rolled my eyes and turned back to my work, hoping for its anesthetic effects.
Unfortunately, her voice cut into my escape attempt. "No wonder people can't stand you. Your people skills suck. You're so damned condescending, like you're so much better because nobody knows what the hell you are."
Although I never put much thought into my social standing, it stung a bit to hear that no one could stand me. Not nearly as much as her comment about my origins, though. "... I ... see," I said, surprised she had turned so abrasive all the sudden. Or had I not noticed?
She laughed at me, which flared my anger like a match on gasoline. I stifled a growl. "What, don't tell me you're actually CONCERNED for what other people think of you? High and Mighty Gate is concerned about his image! Ha!"
"Stop it," I said through clenched teeth.
"Now I've heard everything!" she continued, laughing. So she thought all of my suffering was a joke now? She thought it was funny to reaffirm my worst fears?
I was torn between the urge to cry and the urge to put her through the wall. My fists clenched, trembling with my anger. I could imagine the damage I could do to her before she had time to even stop laughing. I could kill her, snap her cervical power cables, crush her cranial infrastructure, and she would finally-
"Shut up!" I snapped, still reigning myself in. How sad was that?
She did the worst possible thing she could have. She became defensive. "I'M the one who came in here trying to make sure you were okay, remember. You're the one who started all this. I don't know why I bother with you. You aren't worth the effort it takes to put up with you."
All of the sudden destroying her seemed so tempting I could smell her blood. I could also feel the acid burn of the tears in my eyes. No longer could I restrain my voice. "GET OUT!" I screamed, striking my chair aside. It flew across the room and into a wall. My body shook with my red fury. I felt energized with hate and pain, wanting so badly to rip her offending throat out, to take that chair and beat her with it until she would never laugh at me again.
She seemed stunned by my violent emotions. She regarded me as one would a rabid animal. All of her righteous indgnation was gone. She backed away carefully, her eyes never leaving me. "Okay, I'll go..." she said, edging away. She dashed out the door.
I stood perfectly still for a moment, allowing her time to get out of my way. After all, I wouldn't want her to think I was chasing her. She already thought I was crazy as it was. So I should give her time… I waited until I could stand no more, then I took off at top speed, running until I made it back to my quarters. There, I proceeded to rage and rant and scream, tearing into the walls and the one chair I owned. The metal ripped into me, pierced my bare hands, and it felt good. It felt good to bleed to release all of my pent-up emotion. It felt good to destroy something, even if that something was me…
I stopped, looking at the mess that was once my hands. My lab coat, which had once been pristine white, now vaguely resembled an inkblot test gone terribly wrong. The physical pain caught up to me once my raging subsided. Still, I stared at my hands, torn as they were, in astonishment. With these hands, I had wanted to end a life.
Not only that, I had wanted to end the life of someone I knew in a messy and viscerally satisfying way. Which made no sense, given my lack of viscera. I could see myself doing horrid things to her, things Suri would have taken notes on. What was so dark inside me that I would do such a thing? What terrible black hatred lingered in me? What evil had my soul been nurturing? Was I turning into Suri? Why would I ever want to cause pain to anyone, as annoying as they might be? She had never done me any harm.
Or had she? Her words burned like an acetylene torch to my innards. I was "not worth the effort." She had to "put up with me." And all this time, I thought that if I had one being in the world I could conceivably call a friend, it might be her. But apparently friends were something I was also incapable of. No matter how submissive, no matter how serene, no matter how many gut-wrenching, heart burning, soul rending emotions I shoved aside into the depths of my soul, no matter how hard I tried to reach out to these people, I was unacceptable. What a pitiful, pointless existence. I was clearly unfit to survive.
It would be so simple to end my suffering. I could take a shard of my gauntlet and sever my CPU's cervical power cable. I could open my cranial cavity and destroy my neural net. I could write a virus that would erase everything of me from this useless shell. I could think of so many ways to finally achieve my freedom… And if I did, who would notice? Who would care that I was gone? I was replaceable. No one cared enough about me to miss me. Hell, they would celebrate my death if nothing else. If I remained alive, what hope was there? What did I have to look forward to but years of the same pain and torment? My heart could no longer take it. I was no longer needed here. I had overstayed my welcome as it was.
Humans spoke of a place called Hell where the evil souls resided after their deaths. Despite my research into the subject, I could not discern where such a place was. Humans bandied the word about frequently, in jest and in seriousness. It was rumored to be a place of eternal suffering and damnation. They were under the impression that it was some ethereal realm, far away.
No. Hell is here. Hell is this world. Hell is a world where human children are born into love and happiness and freedom, and Reploid children are born into slavery and living death. Where Reploids lives and souls are in the hands of little more than petty, cruel children. Our loves, our hopes, our dreams are illegal. We are given and denied emotion. We are dually cursed to witness humanity's happiness, bought with our shattered dreams and hopes. No threat of eternal damnation could frighten me. It would be no different than continued life. Besides, according to humans, I had no soul anyway. What the hell did I care?
I raised the shard, and in one quick motion I opened my throat. The main cervical power cord snapped, as I had hoped. I suddenly felt lighter and dizzy, as if a were being sucked away. I realized with a start that I was leaving my heavy body. I panicked for a moment, not knowing what was happening. The world was fading out into a grayish realm that I didn't recognize. I was hit suddenly by an overwhelming sense of sadness and despair. All around me were gray souls, endlessly milling before two doors. Their eyes were dull with pain. Their indecisiveness was palpable.
I was afraid. Was I to spend… how long here? Forever? The implications of that settled into my mind like mercury poisoning. Forever… there… no end… always like this… but… there had to be an end, right? What would happen for all that time? Anti-time? What then? No end…?
It was driving me mad, and I screamed. I wanted to leave this place so badly, I didn't care which door I chose. I felt the right one pulling at me, the left one seeming heavy and looming. As if it knew my destiny lay behind it, and my decision was irrelevant.
I ran for the right.
The door opened easily, and I was nearly blinded by pure light. Beautiful music and euphoric emotion poured forth, and my mind was more than made up. None of the others seemed to see or feel this, and I turned to them. I shouted at them, encouraged them to come that way. They looked through me. How could they choose to remain this way, I wondered. I tried physically dragging them, but they phased through me.
They will not come until they decide. A light female voice resonated in my head. Its rich beauty stung my heart. I turned back to the door. There is nothing you can do for them. They must find your strength of heart.
I stepped through the door, wondering who spoke to me. I was not disappointed- the person standing before me was clearly an angel. She was beautiful, standing seven feet tall, slim, clad in robes that matched her silken, snow white hair. Her eyes shone a brilliant blue, the color the skies of the past were reputed to be. I could feel her strength of heart, her kindness, her determination to be a light in the darkness. I felt her love for me, and I cried. Even without a body, I cried. I loved her, too.
I am sorry, Gate. She said. The time isn't right for you. There is still too much for you to do. You have to go back.
"What do I have to go back to?" I demanded. "I don't want to live in a world that doesn't want me."
You must not leave your children unborn. She said. They need you. They will always need you. Too many people depend on you for you to give up now. You said you could overcome any pain the world could throw at you. We all believe in you. No matter how lonely or painful it is to live there, you have to believe that someday everything you go through will be worth it. You have to.
"Why? It isn't! I don't even have anyone to mourn me!"
You are still young. Have patience. I know it's hard for someone on your side to believe that, but you will be free someday. But you'll never know that day if you give up now.
"But I don't care about someday," I said, a bit petulantly. "I can be free now."
If you quit now, you will have failed. You will have to do this again. Please don't throw away everything you've done. You've been so strong and brave up until now.
"What do you mean, do this again?"
If you choose death now at your own hand, you will have to start again in another life until you complete the journey you started out on. You've fought so hard, Gate. I'm so proud of you… I've been looking forward to the day O could actually meet you. But if you stop now, I'll never be born. Please, Gate, for yourself and for all of us who believe in you, please be strong!
"How do I know you are telling me the truth?"
You know that I am. You feel it.
She had a point. I could feel every thought in her head, and I knew with absolute, divine certainty that everything she said was true. But how could I go back now? Everyone thought I was a monster.
All is not lost, Gate.
"It certainly does feel that way."
Trust me. Believe in me.
"I… I do."
I promise you, someday you will not regret this. She said as she began fading away. Take this, and hold onto it in the dark nights ahead.
As I felt myself sinking, I was surrounded by a warm, orange-gold light. It was an emotion that I was completely unaccustomed to feeling. One I thought would be forever denied to me.
Love.
I opened my eyes, running a diagnostic on myself. I had about three more minutes of auxiliary power before my CPU shut down completely.
I had better work fast, I realized.
