Chapter Thirteen: Scream of a Nation

ROB woke up when a shock jolted his system, and he sat up. Or he tried to, he was paralyzed from the neck down. He kept his eyes closed, letting out a slow breath to slow his panic. OK, take this slowly. He shut out his living side, his emotions, and ran diagnostics, which came back dutifully. His 'spine' was severed, basically. Someone had gone in and cut him off from his own body, at least as far as feeling went.

Which means…

He opened his eyes very slowly. He was laying on his side on the floor, partly curled—he had probably assumed that position when they threw him here unconscious, and they had kept him that way for some time. All his hatches were open, wires were everywhere. Worse, his chest was cracked.

Bastards.

"About time." A voice said, ROB pinned the speaker to be behind him, where he couldn't see. "We jolted your system thirty seconds ago."

"I didn't ask for a critique of my processing speed." ROB replied. "So. Who are you?"

"You tell me, Robert McCloud."

Bastards.

"Ok. Government spook. Interrogator. Hacker. I don't really care. Doesn't change the fact that you've half-broken my body, does it?" He tried to laugh, it wheezed out, and his eyes widened seeing clear fluid drip down his chest.

"Try fully broken your body."

He looked at his processor, and choked, seeing the temperature spike up. According to his logs, it was climbing at a steady rate, and he was going to fry in… an hour? Less? "What have you done to me?"

"Plugged you into all our equipment. Tried to break into your head, and after half an hour of fruitlessness, we decided we'd try the old fashioned way."

"Which is?"

"Pain."

ROB, in spite of the paralysis, still screamed. Fire burned through his veins as his internal temperature doubled, tripled, far beyond what he had been at when Serenade had shut him down, his damaged coolant system overloading almost immediately. Then it was gone, the heat having lasted five seconds, the damage to his processor done. He swallowed, working his throat, looking at his harddrives. Undamaged. For now. The important stuff, the stuff that was really, really him, was undamaged.

"We've got magnets."

His chest seized.

"Now, how about you be a nice little robot…" The sound of a lighter, the smell of a cigarette catching. "And tell us everything you know?"

ROB swallowed again. "About…?"

"Serenade. Your mission as Rhapsody. How to beat your hack programs. And lastly, Star Fox."

He closed his eyes, drawing into himself. How could he betray everything, everyone? That would mean… god, how many would flicker? How long would Falco be behind bars?

"Have it your way, ROB. If you burn out, we can always direct download your memories. The difference is whether or not your personality programming survives, and to what degree."

"I am expendable." He whispered.

"Oh? Since when? You're the second coming, for crying out loud! Your death would make a huge impact. Or are you a martyr? Would your death be a signal?" When he got no answer, the voice sighed out a cloud of smoke, and at some hidden signal, the fire was lit in ROB's chest again. This time, he didn't scream. Good soldiers don't under interrogation, and he was a soldier. He was a member of Star Fox.

And he knew his friends would have to pull off a minor miracle to save him.

Fox sat with his head in his hands, listening to Persephone talk. Beside him sat Andrea, still undergoing treatment, eyes wide with horror.

"… and they said that if I even tried to broadcast a warning, they'd shoot out my wireless card." Persephone was heartbroken. "And if I struggled, they'd see to it I was destroyed. Not only that, they told me for every time I struggled, they'd make sure more pain was dealt to ROB."

"They've been planning this a while." Fox said quietly.

"For all we know it was spur of the moment." Persephone said, sighing. "The question is… what do we do now?"

Fox was quiet for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. "He's my friend, my teammate. My brother." He stood. "I'm going to do everything I can."

"I wish I could help. He's my… my leader." She looked at him, sad and scared.

"It's best if you don't come. But hey…" He cuffed her chin lightly. "I'm sure you'll think of something." He turned to Andrea, touching his hand to his brow, and left, running and hitting the speed dial on this cell phone.

Falco hung up his cell phone and sat back, rubbing his chin, deep in thought. Fox was proposing a suicide mission: find out where ROB was, break in, grab ROB, get out. ROB was almost certainly deep in a government building, heavily guarded. So what was he going to do? Fox wanted him to come with, practically pleading, saying he needed the backup badly and that Falco was the only one left he could trust.

Time to break out the big guns.

He walked down the hallway to his quarters and pulled a lockbox out from under his bed, unlocking it and sitting back, looking at the contents. Falco Lombardi, the Red Hammer, Assassin of the Pirate Guilds, thought dead. Until now. It was time.

Slippy looked up when Fox skidded in, panting softly. "Whoa dude. Where's ROB?"

"Government got him. Where's Falco?"

"What, now? Mind giving me some more information?!" Slippy wanted to know, waving his hands. "ROB's captured? What?"

"Not now! Where's Falco?"

"I'm right here."

Both turned, and their jaws dropped. Falco was in combat boots, black jeans, and a black tank top. Over it, a blood red leather duster with loose sleeves. Double hip holsters weighed heavily on his waist, and resting on his shoulder was a thirty-pound sledge.

"Red Hammer. Good afternoon." Fox finally said. "Are you sure about this?"

He shrugged. "Hammer's the one that can do this, not Falco."

"There's a difference?" Slippy lifted an eyebrow.

"Falco's a face. Hammer's the truth." Fox said simply. "This will let everyone know you exist, you know this."

"Robert is my friend. He's not going to survive at the hands of our government. Call who you have to, let's go."

Fox nodded, sitting in his chair and bringing up the number for General Pepper, waiting as it rang. Falco moved so he stood in the background, waiting somewhat patiently to get a move on.

"What did he mean, 'Falco's a face'?" Slippy asked, looking at Falco.

"It's a fake name. Sort of. It's the name I was born with, but I chose Red Hammer when I was five years old, and taught myself to use sledge hammers in close combat. It worked out well."

Pepper finally picked up the phone, looking stressed. "Oh, hi Fox."

"Do you know?" He asked bluntly.

"Yes. I know."

"Where is he?"

"That's treason."

"Where… is… he?" Fox leaned forward, scowling. "I'm going to find out one way or another, General. Difference is whether or not I shoot a few people."

General Pepper stared at him for a moment, and knew that Fox was beyond most reason. But it was almost given, and he had told his government to just stay hands off, that they couldn't handle the reprimand that would happen when you backstabbed Star Fox. They hadn't listened, so hell with them. He'd throw his lot in with the AIs. "What's going to happen?"

"I don't know." Fox replied honestly. "Does it matter?"

"No. No it really doesn't." He twirled a disk through his fingers, then loaded it and hit the send button. "That's everything I know. Now go. And Falco?"

"Hmm?" Falco asked, leaning over Fox's chair.

"Make sure Fox gets through this. Got me?"

"Loud and clear… What the HELL?"

The radio had cut out, and around them all computer systems went haywire. Fox turned, looking as all the video screens synchronized, showing a timer that said 45:00, then a voice came on, many voices as one.

"Well, you've made your move, and now, it's time for us to make ours." The voice echoed, repeated, distorted, spoken from the throats of men and women, adults and children, half a million voices. "You've got the person that means the most to us, and you will let him go. Alive. You've got forty-five minutes to do it. If he does not make contact with us by then… well, we'll see how you survive without the help of ANY AIs." The timer started spinning downward, counting by thousands of a second. "We will all flicker. At once. The locks are already undone. So think about it. Whether we live, or we die…

It's checkmate."

Fox turned and looked at Falco, who closed his eyes and shook his head, then to Slippy, who looked like he was about to cry.

"Half a million people are going to die in less then an hour." Falco said, speaking in a hollow voice, opening his eyes. "We've got a timer, Fox. Can we do this in forty-five minutes?"

"I don't know. We can try." He stared at the screens, and dropped his head. "Persephone. You sure didn't waste any time." He glanced at the address that General Pepper had sent him, then went to get his guns, Falco close behind him.

ROB screamed, rolling to his hands and knees, more fluid dumping. They had reconnected his spine just so he could feel the damage done. One of his arms was broken, his ribs were snapped up one side of his chest, his internal organs ripped apart. He coughed, spitting up some of the fluid, watching his vision shake and warp from heat damage. He was slower. He could feel that. All the coolant he had left was diverted to his hard drives, protecting them.

"Why do you persist?" The voice asked, no compassion, blank. "You're dying. Robert McCloud. Why do you choose to die?"

"Death is better… then betrayal…" He gagged out, trying to get up, and another blow hit his back. A baseball bat? Something like that. It sent a hollow gong noise into the air as it reverberated through his metal body.

"What are you protecting? Tell me that." The figure walked around to crouch next to his head, sighing out smoke. "If you were clean, you'd just let us into your head. If Star Fox was clean, you would have given us all the mission details up front." A shove, and he was on his side, looking at the figure in charge of his torment.

"You… you're… you're an AI." He choked at the end of that, shocked.

"Mm." The figure flicked ash at him. "You'd like to think that, wouldn't you?"

"Then… then what are you? Your body temperature… you're ten degrees below living."

The man laughed softly. "Why should I tell you?" He leaned closer, peering at the pained, broken figure on the floor. "What is Rhapsody's mission?"

"Freedom." He replied, voice muzzy. "I told you that. Freedom."

"Wrong answer."

ROB arched his back against the pain, eyes closing and tears running.

"What is Rhapsody's mission?"

"Freedom."

"Why can't you give it up?" The man stood and started pacing. "Look at your processors! You're going to die in less then ten minutes, ROB. You know that. Make it easy on all of us."

"No."

The pain was lit again.

"Go to hell!"

"Oh, was that the wrong thing to say, little robot."

Andrea paced, looking at Persephone, who sat in lotus position, unmoving. She had already been told the last move of the desperate AIs in the system. They were trying to save ROB, but it was so sad. They were all laying down their lives to save his, unwilling to go without his leadership.

She wished she could do something.

"Horrible, isn't it?"

She looked up, and saw Peppy standing in the doorway, cradling a limp Gabriel to his chest. When she gestured, he nodded, obviously staving off tears. "Yes. Him too." He came fully into the room and laid Gabriel on the sofa gently, pulling a blanket over him. "Dammit!" That came out as an enraged scream, and Peppy sent his fist into the wall, right through the drywall, then he started cussing helplessly, shaking his hand and letting the tears go.

She walked over to him and put her hands on his shoulder, trying to calm him, trying to will life to her voice, but nothing came yet. She still had half an hour left before her treatment completed, she knew.

"I know. It won't help." He turned to her. "He gave me a reason to actually live, and now he lays down his life to save one who might already be dead."

They looked at each other, and she gave him a hug, which he returned after a moment.

"And the one he dies for is the one you wait for." He breathed softly. "God, if I ever get my hands on the bastards that did this…"

She nodded, and pantomimed that she'd get first shot. He laughed.

"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Neh. Shoot."

"Why did you break up with Katt?"

"Because I'm married."

"What?!" Fox turned to fully look at Falco, blinking.

"Mind on your mission. Commander McCloud." Falco flicked one of his ears, which he knew Fox hated.

Fox huffed and turned his eyes forward. They had procured a huge semi truck, and now it sat lined up with the lobby doors of the building they were storming. "Any last words?"

"That I had to serve under a sniveling brat of a Commander." Falco punched his shoulder.

"Asshole." Fox put the truck into gear and hit the gas.

The semi truck charged up the staircase and went through the plate glass like it was nothing, plunging into the huge lobby and skidding to a stop. Guards and secretaries had leapt out of the way, and stared when the door was kicked open, Fox stepping down with two desert eagles already brought to bear.

"Anyone going to try and stop us?" He asked mildly, Falco joining him, sledge hanging in his hand.

"You can't be here! This is an intelligence facility!" One of the guards came to life, sputtering and moving forward.

"On three." Falco sized up their odds, seeing black suits entering the room from one of the large staircases. "One, two…"

"Mister President?"

"Yes?"

"Twenty minutes are left in the countdown, sir. We have to assume… that they're completely serious."

"What would happen if they shut down?"

"Most major cities would fall into chaos, as most basics are controlled by AIs, up to and including power and water. All major space-going traffic throughout the system would cease, as they are practically no manual flight teams trained anymore. All in all, it would not be pretty, but we'd survive it."

"Hmm."

The assistant tilted his head to one side, listening to his ear radio. "Situation change, sir. Two members of Star Fox are trying to retrieve their AI. They've already severely wounded over a dozen people."

"Any deaths?"

"No."

"… Let them do as they will. Don't put up any major resistance."

"Sir?"

"Please note: my signature was not on the order to capture Robert McCloud." He sighed, closing his eyes. "Let them retrieve their AI and return him to Incarna Corporation. Afterward, issue an order to the Great Fox for Fox McCloud and their fully repaired AI to report to my office for a meeting. Falco Lombardi has the option to come. Dismissed."

"This is weird." Falco leaned against the corner, loading his gun. "The resistance is way too light. It's like they've given up."

"I'm not going to complain, we've only got fifteen minutes left." Fox replied, crouching, also reloading his gun. "Figured out that map?"

"Just down the hall." He holstered the gun and picked up his bloodied hammer. He'd broken a lot of shoulders and kneecaps, but he'd avoided mortal blows. Star Fox had changed his fighting style, he noted, for better or for worse. "Do you hear it?"

"Something high-frequency." Fox already had his ears back. "Horrible noise."

"Never heard an AI in agony, have you?" Falco started to jog down the hallway, Fox covering his six.

"You're saying… that's ROB."

"We'll see in a minute." Falco looked at a door, tested the knob, and stepped back. "On three. One, two…"

"Do you smell that smoke?"

ROB was curled up in a corner shaking, keening continuously, arms tight around his chest. Now he had the self destruct cued on his hard drives: if he was going down, they weren't going to find out anything from his remains. But he clung to what was left of his life, one hand holding his broken upper arm, playing memories to hide some of the pain.

"Your secondary processors have melted, little robot." The nameless man walked over and propped a foot on his shoulder, pinning him down needlessly. "Your main one is only minutes behind."

"I know." He coughed out.

"You're strong, even for an AI. I'll give you that." The man didn't move, lighting another cigarette absently. "It's sad we have to destroy you. Someone like you can be useful… what in all hell?"

A hard crashing noise had come from the door, and the area around the doorknob bulged. Another hit, and the entire doorknob shot through and across the room, hit by a large force. Then the door swung open, and a blur came through the room, red and silver and black.

The man screamed as a heavy, nearly unstoppable force hit his shoulder, and went straight through. Circuitry flew, and he staggered back as his arm hit the ground, twitching as he turned to look at his attacker. Then the next blow came, hitting his hip, and he went down.

"How'd you know he was a robot?" Fox asked, staring down at the wounded, stunned man.

"I didn't." Falco said mildly, turning and kneeling by ROB. "And we've got bigger problems."

Fox moaned, falling to his knees and taking ROB's hands. "Robert. We weren't fast enough, that's obvious. But we're here now."

ROB smiled very weakly, returning the grip one-handed. "Fox. I'm on fire inside. I'm burning up."

"Is it fatal?"

"To this body. My hard drives are undamaged, and that's the real me."

"All right. Let's keep them that way." Fox released his hands and picked him up, standing and looking at Falco. "I need an escort."

"I'm your wingman. You got it." Falco was looking at the man, frowning. "So who's this guy, ROB? I can't imagine one of your own would do this to you."

"He's a cyborg." ROB replied, voice muzzy and slow. "No loyalties to the living or the artificial, just caught in between."

"Hm. Good to know. Let's go."

When they exited the building, emergency services, the military, and news crews were everywhere, but a gesture from Falco cleared them all out of the way. Fox kept looking down at the broken figure in his arms, stunned at the peace on ROB's face. It was like the AI had faded beyond the pain of his body, happy he was found and had survived to tell the tale.

A white suburban crashed through the police barricade and skidded to a halt in front of them, nearly rolling itself over in the process. The side door opened, and Peppy beckoned, helping them load ROB onto one of the bench seats.

"What's our timer?" Fox asked, sitting beside ROB.

"We have less then ten minutes." Michael, who was driving, left long black marks on the sidewalk when he hit the gas, speeding back to Incarna Corps. "It's going to take fifteen to get to our building."

"So what do we do?" Falco asked. "I don't think he can wireless broadcast anymore."

"There's a laptop in a bag next to you, and a crossover cable. He's got a network port in his left wrist. Cut the flesh away and jack him in, he'll be able to access the laptop's wireless card from there. We're in a city, he should be able to hit the satellites within thirty seconds."

Fox nodded, cutting into ROB's wrist with his teeth gritted while Falco set up the laptop and hooked the cable up. This body was broken, he reminded himself, his clothing was covered in the coolant ROB used to stay running. There was no point in keeping any of it whole now.

"Fas?"

He startled, looking at ROB, who was making the effort to talk again.

"Not sure… can do this…" ROB closed his eyes, swallowing. "Effort… when not… this way."

"You've got to try."

"Could kill."

"I've never heard an AI talk like that." Michael remarked over his shoulder. "He's nearly gone, Fox. His processor is frying itself."

"ROB, listen to me. The rest of the AIs are gambling their lives trying to save you. We've got about eight minutes before all AIs in the system mass flicker, and they won't stop unless you tell them to." Fox said, clutching one of ROB's hands. "All AIs."

ROB whimpered thinly, then nodded, and Fox jacked the crossover cable in.

ROB gave himself to Rhapsody, and the protocol surged to life, and he arched his back in pain as his system overloaded, a desperate wail of pain echoing throughout the solar system. He was alive, he screamed. He was alive. He was here, so don't die. Live for the living. He felt the cry go out, felt AIs startle out of unconsciousness, crying in agony at the shared pain. He felt Fox's grip tighten, heard Fox's voice going past his ears, trying to talk him down from what was nearly a seizure.

Then he was relaxed again, Rhapsody retreating to the most protected layers of his memory, going limp with a weak sigh. Falco glanced at Fox, then ROB felt an impact on his chest, then cool air rushed in as Falco used a crowbar to pry one of his chest plates up, trying to slow the inevitable.

"Did they hear?" Fox asked.

"According to the radio, yes, the broadcasted timer has stopped." Michael said, dodging through a red light. "Now it's just saving him."

Andrea hugged her legs to her chest, watching Peppy and Gabriel. Gabriel had woke up bawling, and had found comfort hugging Peppy, who returned it gladly, rocking him and waiting for the explanation to come. Her timer had ended, but she hadn't tried to speak: no one was here to ask if it was ok.

"He's alive." Gabriel finally said. "He's alive. He's in pain, but… but we didn't loose him."

"They're probably bringing him here then." Peppy replied with a weak smile.

Andrea stood, snapped her fingers, and pointed up. Peppy wove her away, and she left the room, going back up the lobby floor.

The lobby floor was in minor chaos. A white suburban was parked on the stairs, and she saw Fox and Falco walking beside a stretcher. She elbowed through people, running up to the stretcher and stopping in horror, hand lifted to her mouth.

He was unmoving, beaten, chest broken open. She could see his still heart. She choked, touching Fox's shoulder as he passed. Fox startled at looked at her, and sighed.

"He's still in there. His body broke, but his mind is whole. They'll transfer the hard drives and he'll be up and around within an hour or so." He smiled, but it was strained, as if he didn't totally believe it.

She pushed by him and caught the limp hand, the stretcher stopping as she rubbed her cheek against the back of his hand, praying and begging in her mind and rewarded when he moved, a jerk of pained motion. Ignoring the gapes of the technicians, ROB moved his head slowly, looking at her with barely open eyes. She opened her mouth, trying to remember what she had known but never done, never tried, and something inside her throat moved for the first time.

"Don't die."

Dead silence echoed through the lobby of Incarna Corps, all staring at her, knowing those were her first words. It didn't matter that her voice was strange, not broken in, never used. It was her voice.

ROB stared at her, then started crying weakly. "I'll be ok." His hand clutched hers. "Stay with me."

"Yes. Yes I will." She looked at the technicians, and they nodded, moving again toward the elevator.

Fox started following, then got grabbed by the scruff of the neck rather rudely. He went limp, waiting to be let go, then turned to scowl at Falco. "We should stay with him."

"No. She should. Let's get some coffee."