II
"Perl? ...Perl!"
The hacker's head jerked up, a startled look on her face. "...yeah?" she asked finally, giving her boyfriend a blank look.
"I was going to ask if you had the reports from the overnight routine we ran on the P.O.'s systems." He walked over and rested a hand on her shoulder, a frown crossing his face as she flinched. "You okay? You were late this morning. That's not like you."
"Slept through my alarm," she mumbled, not looking at him. "Sorry."
"It's not a big deal. I just worry about you living alone in Backup. It's really not the best sector in the system."
He reached out and brushed her hair out of her face - noting that discrepancy as well - Perl *always* pulled her hair back while working. With all the machinery she worked around, it was simply a smart precaution. His frown returned, and he cupped her chin in his hand, tilting it slightly. With the change in lighting, he could see definite traces of bruising on her face, though it was hard to see given how dark her skin was to begin with.
"What happened to your face?"
She jerked her head out of his hand. "Got in an argument at the bar last night," she snapped. "Not a big deal, okay? Doesn't even hurt much."
Dennis sighed. "Are you *sure* you're okay?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
At her shout, several heads swiveled in their direction. Dennis took her by the arm and dragged her off to a more secluded corner.
"Because you're not *acting* okay, Perl."
"I'm fine," she hissed, jerking away from him. "What do you care anyway? You were perfectly happy to ditch me in favor of work last night. I had to go entertain myself."
Dennis winced slightly. "I'm *sorry*, Perl. It's just that things came up and-"
"And couldn't wait. Like always." She turned away, hugging herself slightly as if suddenly cold. "Just... leave me alone."
"Fine. For now. We'll talk about this later."
"No, we won't." Without another word, she turned on her heel and left the room.
Dennis leaned his head back against the wall, heaving a sigh of frustration. Perl could be temperamental at the best of times; downright hostile when they were on particularly bad terms, but this was different. She'd seemed more skittish than anything else, and that was patently unlike her. For all her fears and anxieties, Perl was a master at not letting them show.
He mulled over the options in his head, wondering if there were any way to find out just what had happened the previous night, when an idea hit him. If she'd gone to a bar, she wouldn't have gone alone - Perl avoided being alone in public establishments like the plague, always aware that a good percentage of the population still held a deep-seated animosity towards a hacker they felt had no business being in their system. She would have taken someone with her - and since it hadn't been him, there was really only one other sprite she was remotely close to.
Like it or not, he was going to have to talk to Robin.
* * *
"So what is it this time?"
The zero binome hopped out of the sputtering CPU. "It keeps making a gurgling sound when I try to get up over 85 revs. That, too," he added, as he saw the Guardian's reaction to the CPU's engine noise.
Robin rolled her eyes. Like the maintenance bay wasn't backed up enough already! Turing had lost a lot of hardware in the viral war, and there just weren't enough mechanics to deal with the backlog of damaged vehicles as a result; never mind recurring problems (or, she mentally added, recurring bad drivers). She turned to survey the status of the maintenance bay.
"Just give me a few nanos and I'll have bay four clear," she sighed. "It probably needs its fuel injectors flushed. Again."
"Where should I -"
"Just leave it there!" she snapped. "And if I see this heap again, I'm going to-"
A vidwindow rudely interrupted her rant. The binome used the opportunity to make himself scarce. She turned to the source of the sound, annoyance etched on her scarred face.
"Yes, what is it?"
Dennis raised an eyebrow at the Guardian. "Did I catch you at a bad time?"
Robin's expression turned to one of mild surprise. She hadn't expected the Command.com to page her, of all people. Not unless it was critically important. She curbed her frustration and adopted a less hostile posture, resting her hands on her hips.
"It's always a bad time around here," she replied. "But I gather this isn't a social call."
He looked somewhat edgy, she noticed. It took a lot to fluster him; the master of being in control. She frowned. Everything about this said 'problem'. Dennis ran a hand nervously through his hair before continuing.
"Did you, ah... have an argument with Perl last night?"
It was Robin's turn to raise an eyebrow. "We're always arguing. Not that it's any of your business."
"It becomes my business when my girlfriend shows up at the Principal Office the next morning with bruises on her face."
Robin narrowed her eyes at the Command.com. "Excuse me?"
"I want to know what happened."
She paused, processing this information. Then she looked at him warily. "You... you think *I* did that?"
Dennis made a conciliatory gesture. "I'm just asking you what happened."
She glared at him. "I'm a lot of things, Dennis. But I'm not a bully. Yes, Perl and I had a... disagreement... last night. But I didn't have reason to lay a finger on her."
Dennis nodded. "Then I suppose the next question is... who did?"
* * *
*I shouldn't have walked out on her last night*.
Robin chided herself as she made her way to Backup. Her initial anger at Dennis' implied accusation earlier had faded, but now she was busy being angry at herself. She'd let Perl get under her skin, and typically, the one time the hacker had needed her, she hadn't been there. Hadn't that been the main reason she'd stayed in Turing to begin with? To stop the rioting, to protect Perl's position despite the dissent?
*I failed. I let her down...*
She stopped at Perl's apartment door, staring at it, through it.
*I've screwed up. I had my chance, and I've blown it. Bob would-*
She halted the thought; closed her eyes. She had to stop thinking about him, spammit. But it seemed lately that was all she *could* do. She couldn't help but note the irony of the reversed position she found herself in; a similar situation that had had Perl at her own door just a cycle ago. The Guardian paused. She wasn't sure just how to talk to Perl about this. She'd never been good at expressing herself verbally, and this was going to require some real work on her part to get the story out of her. She sighed, and tried a knock at the door.
Waited.
No response.
She hadn't really expected an answer, but she'd hoped she wouldn't have to resort to breaking the door; in this sector of the system, it wasn't a good idea to be without a locked front entrance for any length of time. She'd overheard binomes crack jokes about CPU's being stripped for parts and left on databricks. She balled a hand into a fist and pounded the door.
"Perl! Open up!"
Her voice echoed harshly around the building's corridors. The dilapidated building's sagging structure only served to add to the despairing atmosphere. Robin's skin crawled. She could almost swear her paranoia had become some sort of savage animal, stalking her from the multitude of shadows. She swallowed; cast a furtive glance over her shoulder. Nobody was there, as she'd suspected. Still; this place made her distinctly nervous. She had one option left. She stepped back from the door, and raised her arm.
"Drake - skeleton key!"
The keytool chittered and whirred at her, then morphed into the requested object. A matter of a split-nano, and the door irised open.
Robin blinked as the door spiralled closed behind her, her eyes readjusting from the darkness of the corridor. The apartment was, in stark contrast, brightly lit; bringing the spartan furnishings into sharp relief. Robin glanced around the small living room. No sign of Perl; but out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the cadet's PID lying on the small java table. She made her way across the room and picked the icon up, turning it over in her hand, a concerned frown on her face.
"Perl? Are you OK?" she called out.
Then she heard it - the sound of running water. Robin relaxed somewhat. She'd just caught her at a bad time. So much for Dennis getting worked up. Most likely Perl had just been caught in a skirmish and suffered a few bruises for her trouble. Still, she figured she'd wait a few nanos for her to emerge and check on her to be sure.
Robin sat on the couch and waited.
* * *
"Perl? ...Perl!"
The hacker's head jerked up, a startled look on her face. "...yeah?" she asked finally, giving her boyfriend a blank look.
"I was going to ask if you had the reports from the overnight routine we ran on the P.O.'s systems." He walked over and rested a hand on her shoulder, a frown crossing his face as she flinched. "You okay? You were late this morning. That's not like you."
"Slept through my alarm," she mumbled, not looking at him. "Sorry."
"It's not a big deal. I just worry about you living alone in Backup. It's really not the best sector in the system."
He reached out and brushed her hair out of her face - noting that discrepancy as well - Perl *always* pulled her hair back while working. With all the machinery she worked around, it was simply a smart precaution. His frown returned, and he cupped her chin in his hand, tilting it slightly. With the change in lighting, he could see definite traces of bruising on her face, though it was hard to see given how dark her skin was to begin with.
"What happened to your face?"
She jerked her head out of his hand. "Got in an argument at the bar last night," she snapped. "Not a big deal, okay? Doesn't even hurt much."
Dennis sighed. "Are you *sure* you're okay?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
At her shout, several heads swiveled in their direction. Dennis took her by the arm and dragged her off to a more secluded corner.
"Because you're not *acting* okay, Perl."
"I'm fine," she hissed, jerking away from him. "What do you care anyway? You were perfectly happy to ditch me in favor of work last night. I had to go entertain myself."
Dennis winced slightly. "I'm *sorry*, Perl. It's just that things came up and-"
"And couldn't wait. Like always." She turned away, hugging herself slightly as if suddenly cold. "Just... leave me alone."
"Fine. For now. We'll talk about this later."
"No, we won't." Without another word, she turned on her heel and left the room.
Dennis leaned his head back against the wall, heaving a sigh of frustration. Perl could be temperamental at the best of times; downright hostile when they were on particularly bad terms, but this was different. She'd seemed more skittish than anything else, and that was patently unlike her. For all her fears and anxieties, Perl was a master at not letting them show.
He mulled over the options in his head, wondering if there were any way to find out just what had happened the previous night, when an idea hit him. If she'd gone to a bar, she wouldn't have gone alone - Perl avoided being alone in public establishments like the plague, always aware that a good percentage of the population still held a deep-seated animosity towards a hacker they felt had no business being in their system. She would have taken someone with her - and since it hadn't been him, there was really only one other sprite she was remotely close to.
Like it or not, he was going to have to talk to Robin.
* * *
"So what is it this time?"
The zero binome hopped out of the sputtering CPU. "It keeps making a gurgling sound when I try to get up over 85 revs. That, too," he added, as he saw the Guardian's reaction to the CPU's engine noise.
Robin rolled her eyes. Like the maintenance bay wasn't backed up enough already! Turing had lost a lot of hardware in the viral war, and there just weren't enough mechanics to deal with the backlog of damaged vehicles as a result; never mind recurring problems (or, she mentally added, recurring bad drivers). She turned to survey the status of the maintenance bay.
"Just give me a few nanos and I'll have bay four clear," she sighed. "It probably needs its fuel injectors flushed. Again."
"Where should I -"
"Just leave it there!" she snapped. "And if I see this heap again, I'm going to-"
A vidwindow rudely interrupted her rant. The binome used the opportunity to make himself scarce. She turned to the source of the sound, annoyance etched on her scarred face.
"Yes, what is it?"
Dennis raised an eyebrow at the Guardian. "Did I catch you at a bad time?"
Robin's expression turned to one of mild surprise. She hadn't expected the Command.com to page her, of all people. Not unless it was critically important. She curbed her frustration and adopted a less hostile posture, resting her hands on her hips.
"It's always a bad time around here," she replied. "But I gather this isn't a social call."
He looked somewhat edgy, she noticed. It took a lot to fluster him; the master of being in control. She frowned. Everything about this said 'problem'. Dennis ran a hand nervously through his hair before continuing.
"Did you, ah... have an argument with Perl last night?"
It was Robin's turn to raise an eyebrow. "We're always arguing. Not that it's any of your business."
"It becomes my business when my girlfriend shows up at the Principal Office the next morning with bruises on her face."
Robin narrowed her eyes at the Command.com. "Excuse me?"
"I want to know what happened."
She paused, processing this information. Then she looked at him warily. "You... you think *I* did that?"
Dennis made a conciliatory gesture. "I'm just asking you what happened."
She glared at him. "I'm a lot of things, Dennis. But I'm not a bully. Yes, Perl and I had a... disagreement... last night. But I didn't have reason to lay a finger on her."
Dennis nodded. "Then I suppose the next question is... who did?"
* * *
*I shouldn't have walked out on her last night*.
Robin chided herself as she made her way to Backup. Her initial anger at Dennis' implied accusation earlier had faded, but now she was busy being angry at herself. She'd let Perl get under her skin, and typically, the one time the hacker had needed her, she hadn't been there. Hadn't that been the main reason she'd stayed in Turing to begin with? To stop the rioting, to protect Perl's position despite the dissent?
*I failed. I let her down...*
She stopped at Perl's apartment door, staring at it, through it.
*I've screwed up. I had my chance, and I've blown it. Bob would-*
She halted the thought; closed her eyes. She had to stop thinking about him, spammit. But it seemed lately that was all she *could* do. She couldn't help but note the irony of the reversed position she found herself in; a similar situation that had had Perl at her own door just a cycle ago. The Guardian paused. She wasn't sure just how to talk to Perl about this. She'd never been good at expressing herself verbally, and this was going to require some real work on her part to get the story out of her. She sighed, and tried a knock at the door.
Waited.
No response.
She hadn't really expected an answer, but she'd hoped she wouldn't have to resort to breaking the door; in this sector of the system, it wasn't a good idea to be without a locked front entrance for any length of time. She'd overheard binomes crack jokes about CPU's being stripped for parts and left on databricks. She balled a hand into a fist and pounded the door.
"Perl! Open up!"
Her voice echoed harshly around the building's corridors. The dilapidated building's sagging structure only served to add to the despairing atmosphere. Robin's skin crawled. She could almost swear her paranoia had become some sort of savage animal, stalking her from the multitude of shadows. She swallowed; cast a furtive glance over her shoulder. Nobody was there, as she'd suspected. Still; this place made her distinctly nervous. She had one option left. She stepped back from the door, and raised her arm.
"Drake - skeleton key!"
The keytool chittered and whirred at her, then morphed into the requested object. A matter of a split-nano, and the door irised open.
Robin blinked as the door spiralled closed behind her, her eyes readjusting from the darkness of the corridor. The apartment was, in stark contrast, brightly lit; bringing the spartan furnishings into sharp relief. Robin glanced around the small living room. No sign of Perl; but out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the cadet's PID lying on the small java table. She made her way across the room and picked the icon up, turning it over in her hand, a concerned frown on her face.
"Perl? Are you OK?" she called out.
Then she heard it - the sound of running water. Robin relaxed somewhat. She'd just caught her at a bad time. So much for Dennis getting worked up. Most likely Perl had just been caught in a skirmish and suffered a few bruises for her trouble. Still, she figured she'd wait a few nanos for her to emerge and check on her to be sure.
Robin sat on the couch and waited.
* * *