Just a quick note! Because I always forget the important ones! First off, thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. I really appreciate the input I've been getting. Especially in pointing out inconsistencies (Aries28 knows who she is...*cough*). I've been proofreading very carefully. ;) Now, for those of you scratching your heads about Sheik (delightful little weirdo that he is), no, he isn't gay. Anatomically correct he may be, but robots don't need to...engage in such activities. His relationship with Link is master/servant. You know, like a dog, or something. He just hasn't figured out all the little social rules yet. You also might be wondering: "Okay, so Link has a mentally retarded robot, Zelda's a scientist, and there's a creepy melting guy who's generally being an ass. IS there a plot to this story?" The answer is: yes. It's just a bit...different. I'm going to have to be careful, or I'll confuse myself. Feel free to bug me if anything makes no damn sense.
##
Ruins of the Shadow Temple, 4:00 A.M...
Callaghan was not happy. In fact, one might go so far as to say that he was pissed. For one thing, his suit was taking a terminal beating, what with all this clambering through unstable rubble, and it was unpleasantly damp in here, and his associate either wasn't paying attention and hadn't noticed him, or the little prick was letting Callaghan wander around looking for him...
Flicking a sort of...soft, squishy thing off of his sleeve, Callaghan stopped to regain his bearings and ticked off all the creative and somewhat graphic ways in which he could torment his old associate once he found him. He wasn't very fond of the monster by any stretch of the imagination, but considering the circumstances, Callaghan had nowhere else to turn for help...
Sighing and muttering under his breath, the pale man continued his search.
Apt. 99, 5:00 A.M...
Link had, by this time, gotten back to sleep. He was dreaming about three-headed sheep. One of the sheep had the head of the Prime Minister. Golf was also involved. Oh well, dreams aren't supposed to make sense...
Still wound up in his extension cord, Sheik was dreaming. This was worth mentioning, mostly since 'bots don't normally dream at all. It was really a rather pleasant dream; psychiatrists around the country would wet their pants at the complex symbolism and layers of meaning of this dream, however. And, knowing psychiatrists, it would all probably have something to do with Sheik's deep-seated sexual anxieties and his relationship with his parents, or a freakish mixture of both. However, they would all be wrong, because the dream was actually very literal...
Hyrtech Labs, 6:15 A.M...
Dr. Harkinian slumped in her office chair, staring forlornly at her coffee mug (which, incidentally, had a picture of a cute little kitty on it). A few skin cells had been found on the edge of the missing 'bot's storage box, but the DNA testing results wouldn't be available for another week or so, and even then, it wouldn't do anyone much good if there was nothing to compare the DNA with. And, though the investigators were turning the lab upside-down and working around the clock, they weren't finding much by way of leads. On top of that, she was supposed to have a 'bot ready for exposition today. Impa would have to do for now; she had hoped to use the new 'bot, but she was really beginning to doubt that she would ever see it again. With that, seven years of work was unceremoniously flushed down the drain. Zelda sighed and sipped the scalding coffee. After all this was over, she was taking a long vacation...
Apt. 99, 9:40 A.M...
Link stumbled over one of his shoes. It had seemed like a very long night, and the dream about the Prime Minister and a flock of three-headed sheep attacking him with golf clubs was doing nothing to improve his lucidity. He opened one of his dresser drawers and pulled out a shirt that didn't look especially tatty. He didn't feel up to dressing to kill today. In fact, he didn't feel up to dressing even to mildly injure.
While Link was occupied with finding his other shoe, Sheik was coming out of standby. Noting with mild satisfaction that he was fully charged, the 'bot pulled the tiny plug of his extension cord out of the wall outlet. Link glanced over in time to see the red cord reel itself back in, disappearing into places unknown through a little slot in Sheik's upper thigh. 'It's just like the power cord on one of those fancy vacuum cleaners...' Link mused. In seconds, the little plug vanished as well; Sheik smoothed his synthetic flesh back over the slot, and hitched together the seams of his clothing. Noticing Link, he offered a sunny smile.
"Good morning, Master! Did you get adequate sleep?"
It took Link's tired mind a few moments to make sense of the question. In truth, he'd been so shaken by falling out of bed and...everything else, that he really wasn't too well-rested. However, it's common knowledge that when someone asks how you are, he isn't expecting, nor does he want, the honest answer... "Huh? Oh. Yeah."
"Are you hungry?" It was almost as though the 'bot was going through some sort of mental checklist. At least he hadn't offered to brush Link's teeth for him.
'Yet...' Link thought. As it happened, watching Sheik put away his extension cord had done a lot to kill Link's appetite. "Actually...No. No, I'm not hungry at all. Thanks, though," he added, just in case. No point in being more of an ass than was absolutely necessary.
Later on, as man and robot vegged out in the living room, watching the news, the topic of dreams came up. Link had gingerly settled into the sofa, praying that it wouldn't collapse under his weight, and Sheik had simply sat down on the floor. Link couldn't help but suspect that maybe the floor was a tad more comfortable...
During a lull in the news, his 'bot had asked what he'd dreamed the night before. Raising one eyebrow slightly, Link studied his 'bot's near-perpetually chipper face. It seemed an innocent enough question. "I was on a golf course with a flock of three-headed sheep, than one of the sheep turned into the Prime Minister, and he attacked me with a golf club." Link shrugged.
Sheik tilted his head to one side, and rolled his eyes to the floor, as though in deep thought. "Hm," he said finally. Apparently, his analytical little electronic brain couldn't make sense of the vaguely psychedelic dream, either. Soon enough his countenance brightened again. "I experienced a dream last night, also. My first one," he said, with a tinge of pride. And then, with all the candor of a five-year-old, he described his very first dream ever...
"It was very pleasant," Sheik commented after he'd finished. He sat quietly, waiting patiently for an answer. Link noted with no great surprise that his mouth was hanging open a bit.
'I wonder if he isn't one of those factory defectives, or something...' Seeing that Sheik was staring at him, and probably about to ask if something was wrong, Link decided it would be easier if his just said something so they could drop the subject and never, never bring it up again. "So......that was it, huh?" Sheik nodded, smiling even wider, if it was possible. "That's.........creepy." And it was. Link hadn't been able to soften it at all. It was creepy enough that the robot was dreaming, but...even if Sheik had been hylian, that was a creepy, messed up dream. Ick, just...ick.
Sheik was confused. "Creepy? But there was no creeping involved at all..."
Ruins of the Shadow Temple, 9:50 A.M...
Callaghan was so angry. By this time his suit was beyond salvage, and he was tired of looking for his associate. 'That little maggot...' He'd been sulking on a rubble heap for some minutes now, trying to think where to look next. He was tired of this place. It stank of rot and filth...
Imagine Callaghan's surprise and extreme irritation when the person he was searching for found him.
Apt. 99, 10:00...
The conversation over, man and 'bot returned their attention to the news. It was a live feed from Hyrtech Labs, in a large room brimming with camarabots, booms, and people, all swarming like ants. On a raised stage at the front of the room, a slightly plump, pretty blonde stepped up to the podium, and the room fell silent immediately. It turned out to be Dr. Zelda Harkinian, showing off, as promised last year, a demonstration of a new android design that the labs had funded. The 'bot on display, Impa, was big for an android, and seemed to be of the female persuasion. To be accurate, she seemed to be of the female professional wrestler persuasion. She didn't mimic hylians very well: armored plates were built right into her synthetic flesh, her hair was an unnaturally lustrous silver, and her eyes were burgundy. Easy on the eyes, as far as machines go, but odd as hell. Her movements, though, were fluid and graceful; and when a reporter asked Dr. Harkinian a question, half the time the robot answered it herself. Link wasn't paying much attention to the discussion, aside from the fact that Dr. Harkinian was pretty hot for a scientist. After about twenty minutes he got bored, switched the television off, and suggested that he and Sheik go for a walk. The robot, of course, agreed, and out the door they went.
Hyrtech Labs conference room B, 10:05...
Sweating under her makeup in the heat of the lights, Zelda tried to answer the many questions slung her way.
"Since this android was designed for the purpose of replacing hylian secret service, are they classified as lethal weapons?"
Zelda shook her head. "First off, the 'sheikah' androids won't be replacing secret servicemen anytime soon. There's no replacement for experience and hylian judgment. And, as the 'sheikahs' attacks are defensive and completely non-lethal, they have been cleared by Parliament as requiring no special license or registrations." She'd anticipated a question like that. The anti-gun community had a long arm and a loud mouth.
"How exactly does the hybrid-circuit work?"
Zelda smiled. And then there were always the blatantly stupid questions that were never in short supply. "Well, obviously, I can't walk you all through a slide presentation of the schematics." There were scattered chuckles and just as many baffled expressions as several reporters wondered what a schematic was. "All androids currently on the market run entirely on electric batteries. This poses a bit of a problem, as the batteries must be recharged several times per day. Impa here," she gestured toward her 'bot, "has n-cell electric batteries, which are then used to power a small hydrogen generator. The hydrogen generator is less expensive to run, runs more efficiently, and the batteries only need to be recharged once a day. Just like a person."
Most of the reporters were now busily scribbling away at their notebooks, when one of the brighter ones caught Zelda's attention with a waving hand.
"Yes?" she asked politely. 'Only a few more minutes, be nice...'
The reporter was an older gentleman. "Don't hydrogen generators need some sort of fuel source to extract the hydrogen from? Also, hydrogen cars were banned in most of the provinces for their high spontaneous combustion rate; could this be a safety hazard with your project?"
Zelda's smile was genuine now. At least one of them knew what they were talking about... "That's an excellent question. While the generators in hydrogen cars do require an oil-based fuel source, the hydrogen generator in Impa is a completely different take on the concept of using hydrogen as an energy source. The 'H-bombs on wheels' were very volatile, in large part, because they depended on a combustible fuel source. This is because a hydrogen generator on its own isn't powerful enough to move something as heavy as a hovercar. It powered the internal combustion engine. An android needs nowhere near as much power, and therefore the generator needs far less hydrogen. Putting an internal combustion engine in an android would be like putting a V-12 in a lawnmower." This joke was easier to understand, and a few more reporters laughed this time around. "As for a hydrogen source, the generator we designed utilizes hydrogen from the air, which is pulled in by a device powered by the batteries into compartments lined with a mildly electrified jelly; the hydrogen ions in the air can then move through the jelly to the terminals of the generator."
The majority of the reporters gave her a blank stare. 'Ah, well. We can't all be Ph.Ds...' Zelda checked her watch. Hallelujah. "I can take one more question."
A young woman spoke up. "Can you tell us more about the android that was stolen?"
Sighing softly, Zelda decided to throw them a bone. The theft was a scandal, anyway, and the less the labs said, the more the media would make up as they went along. "The second 'sheikah' is almost identical to Impa in structure and programming. It was built as a more civilian alternative to...well...this." She indicated Impa's armor plates and powerful servomotors. "The investigators are analyzing the evidence and following up on a few promising leads." True, a little lie here and there never hurt. "No more questions, please."
Ruins of the Shadow Temple, 10:07 A.M...
Callaghan sat and watched the black fluid mist curl around him. Some people (the smart-ass ones) would be quick to point out that it would be very difficult, nay, impossible, for the ill-tempered man to see black mist in a pitch-black room. An interesting thing about this particular sentient mist was that it was so dark that it was, in fact, a bit on the bright side, and it stood out quite clearly. His associate had finally deigned to grace Callaghan with his presence, it seemed. Glaring, Callaghan stood up and dusted himself off as best he could.
"Cut the crap, shithead. I need to talk to you."
Languidly, taking its time and making it quite known that it was taking its time, the mist coalesced into a solid form. It had been a very long time, but Callaghan immediately recognized the pale pink eyes and aggravating smirk of the monster.
Anyone observing this scene (who had biologically impossible night vision) would have recognized the shape and features of the sweet little android, Sheik. There the similarities ended. The Sheik-monster, for one thing, looked like an albino that had bathed in bleach his entire life. That, and his bearing was such that Callaghan always felt a strong desire to punch the little bastard in the face, as a warm-up for the excruciating pain he'd inflict later, of course...
After looking Callaghan over from head to toe in amusement, the monster spoke. "It's been such a long time since you've visited me, dear, and that's the way I'm greeted," he said in a lilting tenor, in a language long dead. Callaghan wanted so badly to punch him right in the chops. The monster pouted, "And you didn't even bring me a present? No flowers? No pretty shiny things? None of those little rice candies that you know I like?"
Callaghan took up the old language. "They don't make those anymore."
The monster frowned. "Damn."
Callaghan grumbled something under his breath. "You can spout nonsense all you want later. I didn't come here to enjoy your company, because I don't. I need you to help me with something."
The Sheik look-alike crossed his arms. "That's all you woke me up for, is it? A favor? I don't like favors. What do you need, then, dear?"
Callaghan sighed. In truth, he was amazed that the little prick had paid as much attention to what was going on as he had so far. "I'm sure my coming here isn't what woke you up, was it?"
The monster brightened. "Well, look who's starting a conversation. You did wake me up." Callaghan scowled. "But I think I'd have woken up in a few months, anyway," the monster went on. "I had a very interesting dream just now. Very pleasant," he added, grinning knowingly, his voice dripping innuendo. "How long have I been sleeping, would you say, dear?" The monster glanced around. "This mess is almost unrecognizable."
Callaghan looked relatively pleased. The monster could understand fairly complex things, but those things had to be taken apart and given to the monster's decidedly one-track mind in bite-size pieces, very slowly. "Ten millennia, give or take." With luck, the monster would understand what was wanted of him within an hour. The puke could take a lot of persuasion.
The monster's pink eyes widened. "That long?" He closed his eyes thoughtfully. "Ten thousand years. Goodness, how time flies... Have I missed anything important?"
Callaghan shrugged. "Only a few dozen complete social upheavals. Empires, plagues, wars, nothing you hadn't seen before."
The monster glared. "Well, if you're going to oversimplify everything like that, then you just keep it to yourself! You're a bit depressing to talk to; perhaps you could use a nap?"
Callaghan snorted and curled his lip. The monster's brain was wandering off on a tangent again, and if Callaghan didn't guide it back to the subject at hand, he'd have to start over. "You were talking about a dream you had."
The monster (let's just save trouble and call him Monster, shall we?) looked like a deer caught in headlights for a moment. "What? ...Oh! Now I remember!" Monster smiled. "Even you can't ruin my good mood today, dear. I found my counterpart."
Callaghan did a very good job of covering his elation at this. This tidbit of information made everything a hell of a lot easier, provided his could work out some sort of contract with the shithead.
Meanwhile, Monster was counting on his fingers and moving his lips, making calculations. "Let's see...ten millennia, and then there was all the time I was awake and didn't bother about him (I still can't recall what had me so fed up with him), and then there was..." He closed his eyes and opened them again. "It's just been much too long we've been apart. But it was the strangest thing. I wasn't even looking for him anymore, and there he was. And he's so different from how he used to be. Of course, I suppose a person can change a lot after so many lifetimes... I do like the change, though. I think he's much happier this way. So much more agreeable," he purred.
Callaghan interrupted Monster's chattering. "Do you suppose you could find him in person?"
"Oh, of course!" Monster said excitedly. "I'd love to! It would be so nice to see him again, and it's been such a long time since I've been awake; I miss everything..." He paused as a few thoughts managed to catch up with the rest of his mind. "Since when are you so interested in my business, dear? You haven't exactly been very affectionate toward me this past epoch."
Callaghan grinned. Monster shifted slightly. "As a matter of fact," said Callaghan, "that's just what I wanted to talk to you about. I need you to find your counterpart for me."
Now Monster was definitely suspicious. "Why? He's not yours."
Callaghan had a ready reply. "What an astute observation. Actually, I've been looking for mine for years with no luck. And where yours is, mine usually isn't far." He looked nonchalant. "It would be a place to start looking again. Surely you sympathize that it gets lonely after a while."
Eyeing Callaghan sidelong, Monster's galling smirk came back. "I'd be exposing my own counterpart to danger. It has been a very, very long time I've been alone. If I do this, what's in it for me?"
Callaghan frowned. "Finding your counterpart. I thought you wanted to."
Monster smiled and drifted closer. "Yes, but I can do that easily enough on my own. What if I don't feel like helping you? I think we'd both agree that I owe you nothing."
Callaghan snarled. "You'll get your payment. And I think it would be wise of you to cooperate with me and stop being so difficult. I know you do it on purpose."
Laughing and tweaking Callaghan's cheek, Monster said, "It would be wise of me, would it? You have no control over me."
Callaghan growled. "Don't." He was very nearly ready to call it quits on self-restraint.
"Your negotiating skills need a bit of polish, dear. I think I'll pass, if it's all the same to you." He moved his hand to ruffle Callaghan's hair.
And that was that. Callaghan hated having his hair ruffled. With bruising force, he caught Monster's wrist and twisted the arm around behind Monster's back at an exceedingly uncomfortable angle. Monster yelped and tried to pull away. "I think you should be more open to compromise," Callaghan growled.
Monster glared sharply, tears pricking his eyes. "You can't kill me."
Callaghan gave Monster a toothy grin, and tightened his grip. Frost began to form on his hands and Monster held back a scream. "But I can make you wish I could," Callaghan said softly. It wasn't a threat; it was the simple statement of a fact.
Monster felt like his insides were freezing solid. He gritted his teeth, whimpering.
Callaghan leaned down close to one of Monster's pointed ears and whispered, "Now, be a love and agree, and when I do find your counterpart, I won't rip him to shreds alive. There's your payment." He also twisted Monster's arm a bit more, for good measure. There was a faint groaning sound, like a bone about to give.
Monster was not an evil creature by nature, but he certainly wasn't a martyr. His vision was swimming, and he hurt. It was time to sell out until a more convenient time. "All right. All right, I agree," he stammered. "Let go, ALL RIGHT, I said! Stop it, you're hurting me!"
Now smirking himself, Callaghan let go and stepped back, allowing Monster to sink to the floor. The vanquished massaged his aching arm, being careful of the purple-black frost burns that marred the moon-white skin on his arm and side. He stared at the floor glumly. "There's no need for that, dear," he said, sounding cautiously annoyed. He slowly raised his gaze to Callaghan's face. The man looked almost cheerful. 'And why wouldn't he be, considering what he is...'
Callaghan didn't bother helping his associate off the ground, but watched as Monster hauled himself to his feet. "Now that that's settled," Callaghan said calmly, "You'd best start looking. It's nearly lunchtime already."
##
Confused? Me too! Oh, but I do so love Monster... I wish I could have thought up a better name for him, though. Oh well. Monster isn't such a bad name; in fact, I think it's starting to grow on me already. And have we all guessed who Callaghan is? If you haven't, then don't worry about it; you'll find out soon enough. This story just gets more and more fun. I'm glad I decided to write it. It's certainly changed a lot since I first had the idea, but I think I like it better this way. ^^ Happy me...
##
Ruins of the Shadow Temple, 4:00 A.M...
Callaghan was not happy. In fact, one might go so far as to say that he was pissed. For one thing, his suit was taking a terminal beating, what with all this clambering through unstable rubble, and it was unpleasantly damp in here, and his associate either wasn't paying attention and hadn't noticed him, or the little prick was letting Callaghan wander around looking for him...
Flicking a sort of...soft, squishy thing off of his sleeve, Callaghan stopped to regain his bearings and ticked off all the creative and somewhat graphic ways in which he could torment his old associate once he found him. He wasn't very fond of the monster by any stretch of the imagination, but considering the circumstances, Callaghan had nowhere else to turn for help...
Sighing and muttering under his breath, the pale man continued his search.
Apt. 99, 5:00 A.M...
Link had, by this time, gotten back to sleep. He was dreaming about three-headed sheep. One of the sheep had the head of the Prime Minister. Golf was also involved. Oh well, dreams aren't supposed to make sense...
Still wound up in his extension cord, Sheik was dreaming. This was worth mentioning, mostly since 'bots don't normally dream at all. It was really a rather pleasant dream; psychiatrists around the country would wet their pants at the complex symbolism and layers of meaning of this dream, however. And, knowing psychiatrists, it would all probably have something to do with Sheik's deep-seated sexual anxieties and his relationship with his parents, or a freakish mixture of both. However, they would all be wrong, because the dream was actually very literal...
Hyrtech Labs, 6:15 A.M...
Dr. Harkinian slumped in her office chair, staring forlornly at her coffee mug (which, incidentally, had a picture of a cute little kitty on it). A few skin cells had been found on the edge of the missing 'bot's storage box, but the DNA testing results wouldn't be available for another week or so, and even then, it wouldn't do anyone much good if there was nothing to compare the DNA with. And, though the investigators were turning the lab upside-down and working around the clock, they weren't finding much by way of leads. On top of that, she was supposed to have a 'bot ready for exposition today. Impa would have to do for now; she had hoped to use the new 'bot, but she was really beginning to doubt that she would ever see it again. With that, seven years of work was unceremoniously flushed down the drain. Zelda sighed and sipped the scalding coffee. After all this was over, she was taking a long vacation...
Apt. 99, 9:40 A.M...
Link stumbled over one of his shoes. It had seemed like a very long night, and the dream about the Prime Minister and a flock of three-headed sheep attacking him with golf clubs was doing nothing to improve his lucidity. He opened one of his dresser drawers and pulled out a shirt that didn't look especially tatty. He didn't feel up to dressing to kill today. In fact, he didn't feel up to dressing even to mildly injure.
While Link was occupied with finding his other shoe, Sheik was coming out of standby. Noting with mild satisfaction that he was fully charged, the 'bot pulled the tiny plug of his extension cord out of the wall outlet. Link glanced over in time to see the red cord reel itself back in, disappearing into places unknown through a little slot in Sheik's upper thigh. 'It's just like the power cord on one of those fancy vacuum cleaners...' Link mused. In seconds, the little plug vanished as well; Sheik smoothed his synthetic flesh back over the slot, and hitched together the seams of his clothing. Noticing Link, he offered a sunny smile.
"Good morning, Master! Did you get adequate sleep?"
It took Link's tired mind a few moments to make sense of the question. In truth, he'd been so shaken by falling out of bed and...everything else, that he really wasn't too well-rested. However, it's common knowledge that when someone asks how you are, he isn't expecting, nor does he want, the honest answer... "Huh? Oh. Yeah."
"Are you hungry?" It was almost as though the 'bot was going through some sort of mental checklist. At least he hadn't offered to brush Link's teeth for him.
'Yet...' Link thought. As it happened, watching Sheik put away his extension cord had done a lot to kill Link's appetite. "Actually...No. No, I'm not hungry at all. Thanks, though," he added, just in case. No point in being more of an ass than was absolutely necessary.
Later on, as man and robot vegged out in the living room, watching the news, the topic of dreams came up. Link had gingerly settled into the sofa, praying that it wouldn't collapse under his weight, and Sheik had simply sat down on the floor. Link couldn't help but suspect that maybe the floor was a tad more comfortable...
During a lull in the news, his 'bot had asked what he'd dreamed the night before. Raising one eyebrow slightly, Link studied his 'bot's near-perpetually chipper face. It seemed an innocent enough question. "I was on a golf course with a flock of three-headed sheep, than one of the sheep turned into the Prime Minister, and he attacked me with a golf club." Link shrugged.
Sheik tilted his head to one side, and rolled his eyes to the floor, as though in deep thought. "Hm," he said finally. Apparently, his analytical little electronic brain couldn't make sense of the vaguely psychedelic dream, either. Soon enough his countenance brightened again. "I experienced a dream last night, also. My first one," he said, with a tinge of pride. And then, with all the candor of a five-year-old, he described his very first dream ever...
"It was very pleasant," Sheik commented after he'd finished. He sat quietly, waiting patiently for an answer. Link noted with no great surprise that his mouth was hanging open a bit.
'I wonder if he isn't one of those factory defectives, or something...' Seeing that Sheik was staring at him, and probably about to ask if something was wrong, Link decided it would be easier if his just said something so they could drop the subject and never, never bring it up again. "So......that was it, huh?" Sheik nodded, smiling even wider, if it was possible. "That's.........creepy." And it was. Link hadn't been able to soften it at all. It was creepy enough that the robot was dreaming, but...even if Sheik had been hylian, that was a creepy, messed up dream. Ick, just...ick.
Sheik was confused. "Creepy? But there was no creeping involved at all..."
Ruins of the Shadow Temple, 9:50 A.M...
Callaghan was so angry. By this time his suit was beyond salvage, and he was tired of looking for his associate. 'That little maggot...' He'd been sulking on a rubble heap for some minutes now, trying to think where to look next. He was tired of this place. It stank of rot and filth...
Imagine Callaghan's surprise and extreme irritation when the person he was searching for found him.
Apt. 99, 10:00...
The conversation over, man and 'bot returned their attention to the news. It was a live feed from Hyrtech Labs, in a large room brimming with camarabots, booms, and people, all swarming like ants. On a raised stage at the front of the room, a slightly plump, pretty blonde stepped up to the podium, and the room fell silent immediately. It turned out to be Dr. Zelda Harkinian, showing off, as promised last year, a demonstration of a new android design that the labs had funded. The 'bot on display, Impa, was big for an android, and seemed to be of the female persuasion. To be accurate, she seemed to be of the female professional wrestler persuasion. She didn't mimic hylians very well: armored plates were built right into her synthetic flesh, her hair was an unnaturally lustrous silver, and her eyes were burgundy. Easy on the eyes, as far as machines go, but odd as hell. Her movements, though, were fluid and graceful; and when a reporter asked Dr. Harkinian a question, half the time the robot answered it herself. Link wasn't paying much attention to the discussion, aside from the fact that Dr. Harkinian was pretty hot for a scientist. After about twenty minutes he got bored, switched the television off, and suggested that he and Sheik go for a walk. The robot, of course, agreed, and out the door they went.
Hyrtech Labs conference room B, 10:05...
Sweating under her makeup in the heat of the lights, Zelda tried to answer the many questions slung her way.
"Since this android was designed for the purpose of replacing hylian secret service, are they classified as lethal weapons?"
Zelda shook her head. "First off, the 'sheikah' androids won't be replacing secret servicemen anytime soon. There's no replacement for experience and hylian judgment. And, as the 'sheikahs' attacks are defensive and completely non-lethal, they have been cleared by Parliament as requiring no special license or registrations." She'd anticipated a question like that. The anti-gun community had a long arm and a loud mouth.
"How exactly does the hybrid-circuit work?"
Zelda smiled. And then there were always the blatantly stupid questions that were never in short supply. "Well, obviously, I can't walk you all through a slide presentation of the schematics." There were scattered chuckles and just as many baffled expressions as several reporters wondered what a schematic was. "All androids currently on the market run entirely on electric batteries. This poses a bit of a problem, as the batteries must be recharged several times per day. Impa here," she gestured toward her 'bot, "has n-cell electric batteries, which are then used to power a small hydrogen generator. The hydrogen generator is less expensive to run, runs more efficiently, and the batteries only need to be recharged once a day. Just like a person."
Most of the reporters were now busily scribbling away at their notebooks, when one of the brighter ones caught Zelda's attention with a waving hand.
"Yes?" she asked politely. 'Only a few more minutes, be nice...'
The reporter was an older gentleman. "Don't hydrogen generators need some sort of fuel source to extract the hydrogen from? Also, hydrogen cars were banned in most of the provinces for their high spontaneous combustion rate; could this be a safety hazard with your project?"
Zelda's smile was genuine now. At least one of them knew what they were talking about... "That's an excellent question. While the generators in hydrogen cars do require an oil-based fuel source, the hydrogen generator in Impa is a completely different take on the concept of using hydrogen as an energy source. The 'H-bombs on wheels' were very volatile, in large part, because they depended on a combustible fuel source. This is because a hydrogen generator on its own isn't powerful enough to move something as heavy as a hovercar. It powered the internal combustion engine. An android needs nowhere near as much power, and therefore the generator needs far less hydrogen. Putting an internal combustion engine in an android would be like putting a V-12 in a lawnmower." This joke was easier to understand, and a few more reporters laughed this time around. "As for a hydrogen source, the generator we designed utilizes hydrogen from the air, which is pulled in by a device powered by the batteries into compartments lined with a mildly electrified jelly; the hydrogen ions in the air can then move through the jelly to the terminals of the generator."
The majority of the reporters gave her a blank stare. 'Ah, well. We can't all be Ph.Ds...' Zelda checked her watch. Hallelujah. "I can take one more question."
A young woman spoke up. "Can you tell us more about the android that was stolen?"
Sighing softly, Zelda decided to throw them a bone. The theft was a scandal, anyway, and the less the labs said, the more the media would make up as they went along. "The second 'sheikah' is almost identical to Impa in structure and programming. It was built as a more civilian alternative to...well...this." She indicated Impa's armor plates and powerful servomotors. "The investigators are analyzing the evidence and following up on a few promising leads." True, a little lie here and there never hurt. "No more questions, please."
Ruins of the Shadow Temple, 10:07 A.M...
Callaghan sat and watched the black fluid mist curl around him. Some people (the smart-ass ones) would be quick to point out that it would be very difficult, nay, impossible, for the ill-tempered man to see black mist in a pitch-black room. An interesting thing about this particular sentient mist was that it was so dark that it was, in fact, a bit on the bright side, and it stood out quite clearly. His associate had finally deigned to grace Callaghan with his presence, it seemed. Glaring, Callaghan stood up and dusted himself off as best he could.
"Cut the crap, shithead. I need to talk to you."
Languidly, taking its time and making it quite known that it was taking its time, the mist coalesced into a solid form. It had been a very long time, but Callaghan immediately recognized the pale pink eyes and aggravating smirk of the monster.
Anyone observing this scene (who had biologically impossible night vision) would have recognized the shape and features of the sweet little android, Sheik. There the similarities ended. The Sheik-monster, for one thing, looked like an albino that had bathed in bleach his entire life. That, and his bearing was such that Callaghan always felt a strong desire to punch the little bastard in the face, as a warm-up for the excruciating pain he'd inflict later, of course...
After looking Callaghan over from head to toe in amusement, the monster spoke. "It's been such a long time since you've visited me, dear, and that's the way I'm greeted," he said in a lilting tenor, in a language long dead. Callaghan wanted so badly to punch him right in the chops. The monster pouted, "And you didn't even bring me a present? No flowers? No pretty shiny things? None of those little rice candies that you know I like?"
Callaghan took up the old language. "They don't make those anymore."
The monster frowned. "Damn."
Callaghan grumbled something under his breath. "You can spout nonsense all you want later. I didn't come here to enjoy your company, because I don't. I need you to help me with something."
The Sheik look-alike crossed his arms. "That's all you woke me up for, is it? A favor? I don't like favors. What do you need, then, dear?"
Callaghan sighed. In truth, he was amazed that the little prick had paid as much attention to what was going on as he had so far. "I'm sure my coming here isn't what woke you up, was it?"
The monster brightened. "Well, look who's starting a conversation. You did wake me up." Callaghan scowled. "But I think I'd have woken up in a few months, anyway," the monster went on. "I had a very interesting dream just now. Very pleasant," he added, grinning knowingly, his voice dripping innuendo. "How long have I been sleeping, would you say, dear?" The monster glanced around. "This mess is almost unrecognizable."
Callaghan looked relatively pleased. The monster could understand fairly complex things, but those things had to be taken apart and given to the monster's decidedly one-track mind in bite-size pieces, very slowly. "Ten millennia, give or take." With luck, the monster would understand what was wanted of him within an hour. The puke could take a lot of persuasion.
The monster's pink eyes widened. "That long?" He closed his eyes thoughtfully. "Ten thousand years. Goodness, how time flies... Have I missed anything important?"
Callaghan shrugged. "Only a few dozen complete social upheavals. Empires, plagues, wars, nothing you hadn't seen before."
The monster glared. "Well, if you're going to oversimplify everything like that, then you just keep it to yourself! You're a bit depressing to talk to; perhaps you could use a nap?"
Callaghan snorted and curled his lip. The monster's brain was wandering off on a tangent again, and if Callaghan didn't guide it back to the subject at hand, he'd have to start over. "You were talking about a dream you had."
The monster (let's just save trouble and call him Monster, shall we?) looked like a deer caught in headlights for a moment. "What? ...Oh! Now I remember!" Monster smiled. "Even you can't ruin my good mood today, dear. I found my counterpart."
Callaghan did a very good job of covering his elation at this. This tidbit of information made everything a hell of a lot easier, provided his could work out some sort of contract with the shithead.
Meanwhile, Monster was counting on his fingers and moving his lips, making calculations. "Let's see...ten millennia, and then there was all the time I was awake and didn't bother about him (I still can't recall what had me so fed up with him), and then there was..." He closed his eyes and opened them again. "It's just been much too long we've been apart. But it was the strangest thing. I wasn't even looking for him anymore, and there he was. And he's so different from how he used to be. Of course, I suppose a person can change a lot after so many lifetimes... I do like the change, though. I think he's much happier this way. So much more agreeable," he purred.
Callaghan interrupted Monster's chattering. "Do you suppose you could find him in person?"
"Oh, of course!" Monster said excitedly. "I'd love to! It would be so nice to see him again, and it's been such a long time since I've been awake; I miss everything..." He paused as a few thoughts managed to catch up with the rest of his mind. "Since when are you so interested in my business, dear? You haven't exactly been very affectionate toward me this past epoch."
Callaghan grinned. Monster shifted slightly. "As a matter of fact," said Callaghan, "that's just what I wanted to talk to you about. I need you to find your counterpart for me."
Now Monster was definitely suspicious. "Why? He's not yours."
Callaghan had a ready reply. "What an astute observation. Actually, I've been looking for mine for years with no luck. And where yours is, mine usually isn't far." He looked nonchalant. "It would be a place to start looking again. Surely you sympathize that it gets lonely after a while."
Eyeing Callaghan sidelong, Monster's galling smirk came back. "I'd be exposing my own counterpart to danger. It has been a very, very long time I've been alone. If I do this, what's in it for me?"
Callaghan frowned. "Finding your counterpart. I thought you wanted to."
Monster smiled and drifted closer. "Yes, but I can do that easily enough on my own. What if I don't feel like helping you? I think we'd both agree that I owe you nothing."
Callaghan snarled. "You'll get your payment. And I think it would be wise of you to cooperate with me and stop being so difficult. I know you do it on purpose."
Laughing and tweaking Callaghan's cheek, Monster said, "It would be wise of me, would it? You have no control over me."
Callaghan growled. "Don't." He was very nearly ready to call it quits on self-restraint.
"Your negotiating skills need a bit of polish, dear. I think I'll pass, if it's all the same to you." He moved his hand to ruffle Callaghan's hair.
And that was that. Callaghan hated having his hair ruffled. With bruising force, he caught Monster's wrist and twisted the arm around behind Monster's back at an exceedingly uncomfortable angle. Monster yelped and tried to pull away. "I think you should be more open to compromise," Callaghan growled.
Monster glared sharply, tears pricking his eyes. "You can't kill me."
Callaghan gave Monster a toothy grin, and tightened his grip. Frost began to form on his hands and Monster held back a scream. "But I can make you wish I could," Callaghan said softly. It wasn't a threat; it was the simple statement of a fact.
Monster felt like his insides were freezing solid. He gritted his teeth, whimpering.
Callaghan leaned down close to one of Monster's pointed ears and whispered, "Now, be a love and agree, and when I do find your counterpart, I won't rip him to shreds alive. There's your payment." He also twisted Monster's arm a bit more, for good measure. There was a faint groaning sound, like a bone about to give.
Monster was not an evil creature by nature, but he certainly wasn't a martyr. His vision was swimming, and he hurt. It was time to sell out until a more convenient time. "All right. All right, I agree," he stammered. "Let go, ALL RIGHT, I said! Stop it, you're hurting me!"
Now smirking himself, Callaghan let go and stepped back, allowing Monster to sink to the floor. The vanquished massaged his aching arm, being careful of the purple-black frost burns that marred the moon-white skin on his arm and side. He stared at the floor glumly. "There's no need for that, dear," he said, sounding cautiously annoyed. He slowly raised his gaze to Callaghan's face. The man looked almost cheerful. 'And why wouldn't he be, considering what he is...'
Callaghan didn't bother helping his associate off the ground, but watched as Monster hauled himself to his feet. "Now that that's settled," Callaghan said calmly, "You'd best start looking. It's nearly lunchtime already."
##
Confused? Me too! Oh, but I do so love Monster... I wish I could have thought up a better name for him, though. Oh well. Monster isn't such a bad name; in fact, I think it's starting to grow on me already. And have we all guessed who Callaghan is? If you haven't, then don't worry about it; you'll find out soon enough. This story just gets more and more fun. I'm glad I decided to write it. It's certainly changed a lot since I first had the idea, but I think I like it better this way. ^^ Happy me...