Happy New Year, folks! As always, thanks for the patience. We're really getting to some juicy scenes now, and believe me they're a joy to write. Hope you enjoy reading this one as much as I did writing it!
o-o-o-o
"I…you..." Tails said, eloquently, "What's going on?"
"We're just here to talk, Tails," King Max assured, "We know what happened at the hospital wasn't your fault."
Tail's eyes darted back and forth between the two men, almost as if he expected this to be some cruel joke, "You...really mean that? You're not going to...rip me apart or anything?"
Both men's eyes widened, and Charles held his hands up in a placating gesture.
"Goodness no, boy!" he responded, "Look, we all got a lot of stuff to figure out here, and things are gonna get real strange before they get better, but no one's tearing anyone apart. I can promise you that."
"I don't know what to say…" Tails breathed, his face buried in his hands, "I thought...I thought this was it. I thought it was over."
He felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see the King meet his eyes, "We're only here to help, Tails. I'm dreadfully sorry the men were so rough with you; we were able to get word to them to let us see you but not much more than that. But I swear on my honor that you're not in any trouble. You're among friends now."
Tails offered a weak nod, and shared a brief embrace with the King. The treatment of the soldiers was the last thing on his mind right now; he was just relieved that he wasn't about to be executed.
"We have some things to tell you that should shed some light on this whole predicament," Charles said as Max returned to his seat, "We were, ah, somewhat in the dark on your situation, as I'll bet you were, until now, but I think I can explain some things. And then maybe you can explain some things for us, yeah?"
"So do you...know what I am?" asked Tails, "H-how?"
Charles glanced at Max, who nodded, seeming to indicate that the hedgehog take the lead.
"Very well. Tails, do you remember what I did before I was Max's advisor?"
Tails cocked his head in confusion, but answered all the same. "You were a computer scientist, one of the best in the world," he recalled, "You were a codebreaker for the government, right?"
"That's true, among other things. But specifically, I was also co-head of an initiative meant to pursue developments in non-binary computing. Information technology was experiencing a boom at the time, and the Kingdom needed to keep up, so our team got to work on researching systems that could be both self-sustaining and practical for all kinds of uses: military, civilian, medical. You name it, we were on it.
"The other head on this project, and this might not be an enormous shock to you, was Ivo Robotnik."
Indeed, it was relatively common knowledge that Robotnik had once been a government scientist, though his exact role was often difficult to ascertain due to the Kingdom's understandable hesitance to avoid mentioning the rogue madman. Given that the Freedom Fighters worked more closely, so to speak, with the man on a daily basis than the average citizen, Tails was not altogether surprised that he'd coordinated computing projects.
The direction this conversation was headed, however, was another story.
"Ivo and I had crossed paths many times before, but this was our first time directly working together. To say we were ecstatic about the progress we were making would be an understatement. Our team was making breakthrough after breakthrough, but it all came to a head when we set out to develop our crowning achievement: a truly cogent A.I. One that could think for itself, feel, and learn. An A.I. that could understand. It would open up a door to infinite possibilities.
"An electronic, modifiable equivalent to the mind could give us revolutionary insight into conditions like schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, PTSD. And that's not even getting into the leaps forward that could be made in other scientific fields. A mind with the speed of a computer, and the heart of a Mobian.
"So imagine our elation when we did it, in a manner of speaking, at least. Our theories were sound, the math was airtight, but unfortunately, it was around that time that Ivo got delusions of grandeur in his head and...well...you know the rest of that story. Before we were ever able to proceed to the next step of the project, he staged his failed coup and took all his research with him when he left."
"Which brings us to the here and now, and to you, Tails," King Max picked up, "It's almost certain that you are an extension of that project, appropriated by Robotnik to serve his own needs. The methods used in Sir Charles' theory are consistent with what we've seen in you thus far."
Tails, meanwhile, was almost as blown away as when he first found out about his true nature. "How long have you known?" was all he could think to ask.
"Well, the incident at the hospital was really our first confirmation," said Uncle Chuck, "But we had our suspicions that something was amiss a few days back when we got a call from Angel Island. Apparently you and Knuckles had something of a brawl?"
Tails' ears dropped, and a small spark of fear wormed its way back in, "We...we did but I promise I wasn't trying to start anything! He noticed I didn't have a Chaos signature because technically I'm not a living thing and so he confronted me about it and-"
"Tails, Tails, calm down," the King interrupted, "Remember: you're not in any trouble. Knuckles explained to us then that he was the one that started the altercation. But he wanted us to be aware of what happened, and since he didn't have all the facts we didn't want to intervene if we were wrong. However, in hindsight, we very nearly left it too late."
"And for that, we can't apologize enough. As soon as I heard what happened I connected the dots fairly quickly. I always figured Ivo would come back with that research at some point. Turns out it was one of the first things he did."
"So you really don't think I'm evil?" Tails asked, his voice nearly a whisper, "I mean, is there a possibility that I...I dunno, that I don't have to hurt people? That I could...still be good?"
It sounded so childish to his ears when he put it that way, but that's genuinely what he wanted. He wanted to be good so badly.
"Oh, kiddo," Chuck said, his eyes full of heartbreak for the desperate kit in front of him, "You might be physically cybernetic, but in every way that counts you're as much a Mobian as me or Max. Take it from me, I spent years working on that project. I knew those concepts inside and out, frontwards and backwards, and I'm telling you that if you're cut from that mold, and I'm sure you are, then you can learn, adapt, change and grow.
"You are your own man, Tails. Ivo can jam whatever hackneyed nonsense he wants into your programming to try to railroad you down his path, but he's vastly underestimated what he's working with here. The things you've done with us these last ten years, the bonds you've formed, the experiences you've had, the pain and joy you've felt, it's all very, very real. I'm not saying it will be easy, it may well be the hardest thing you've ever done, but you can overcome Ivo's influence. You have freedom and you have choice, Tails."
The young fox found he was weeping again, but for once the tears weren't born of agony. He couldn't believe it, after setback after setback, after feeling his morality slip away day by day, after being positively certain that his time had run out, here he sat in a government facility being told the first true good news he had heard since this whole damn mess began. He wasn't a monster, at least not necessarily. He wasn't evil. It didn't solve everything, not even close. He was still a machine, regardless of how advanced, which raised its own crushing morality questions, not to mention his still very dangerous fugue state and mercurial programming.
But for now, he had at least two people he trusted who had faith in him, and that meant everything. It was his lifeline. So he sank to his knees on the concrete floor, hugging his Uncle Chuck, and cried until he couldn't cry any more.
o-o-o-o
The walk from the Minton airport to the hospital was, in reality, perhaps only a mile or so. But for Bunnie, every step felt like a step further into infinity. Neither she nor Antoine had heard word on Rotor since they'd received Tails' message and immediately cut their visit to the U.F. short.
It wasn't the first time one of their teammates had been injured, but it never got any easier. Bunnie's mind always drifted back to her own accident that eventually led to her robotic arm and leg. She was sure she would die that day, and it was only thanks to the tireless work of the medics and Uncle Chuck that she was alive, well, and still fit for combat. She may have missed her organic limbs, but the fact that she lived through that day was something she was thankful for every time she drew a breath.
Antoine had been worryingly silent for the majority of their return from the base. The moment the message came through, he had hurriedly excused the both of them, eschewing the usual formalities he would normally insist upon. He and Rotor had butted heads more times than any of the other Fighters could count; if any two members were going to get into a shouting match, it would be the two of them.
But Antoine would sooner burn all his military regalia than see his brother in arms get hurt. It was moments like these, gut-wrenching as they were, that proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that the Freedom Fighters were a family above all else. Bunnie could only hope and pray that she hadn't lost a family member today.
The hospital stuck out against the modest skyline of the small town, and its off-white exterior contrasted with the purple sky, the sun slowly but surely hiding itself behind the surrounding hills. As the approached, they caught sight of Sonic and Sally milling around a seating area near a side door. Their faces didn't inspire much optimism.
"How's Rotor?" Bunnie asked without preamble.
"He's fine," Sally answered, "Or he will be, at least. The doctor says there shouldn't be any lasting damage."
"Dieu merci!" Antoine breathed, taking a seat across from Sonic and Sally, "We were of ze utmost concern when we 'eard the signal."
"Is he out of surgery?" inquired Bunnie.
"Should be any minute now," Sonic said, "But doc says it'll be a while before we can see him. He lost a lot of blood."
All present cringed at the thought, but shortly thereafter, a dawning look of realization flashed across Antoine's face.
"Eh, where iz Monsieur Tails?"
"That's...that's complicated," Sonic responded, his hand reaching for the back of his neck.
"Whaddya mean?"
"You've walked into something of a situation," Sally began, "Tails has been taken by Robotnik."
Bunnie's mind ground to a halt. She couldn't have heard that right, surely.
"Uh...Sally-girl? He was taken? Like...kidnapped?"
"But how iz zat possible?" Antoine asked. Seemed he was just as caught off guard as she was.
"Didn't he bring Rotor here?"
Sally wearily shook her head, as if she'd already asked herself that a thousand times, "Apparently he was replaced by a robotic double. We found out when it tried to kill me a few hours ago."
"What!?" Antoine and Bunnie shouted in unison.
"We were able to stun it with one of Rotor's portable EMPs long enough for Penn and his team to get here. We were really lucky. It could have been...much worse."
"I'll say…" Bunnie added. She sat down next to Sally on the unforgiving stone bench, putting an arm around her to comfort her friend.
"Who knows how long this has been going on?" Sally continued, "I mean, he could have been taken on this last mission, or it could have been weeks, months since we last saw the real Tails."
"But what are we to do now?" Antoine asked.
"Nothing, apparently," spat Sonic, "We've got direct orders from the Crown not to interfere with the investigation. They won't even let us near the fake."
"That makes even less sense!" Bunnie exclaimed, "Why would King Max do that?"
"Dunno, but if he thinks I'm gonna sit around while my brother might be strapped to some lab table, he's got another thing comin'. I've been thinkin' about it, Sal, and I can't do nothing while my best friend's in trouble. I'm heading to Green Hill to get some answers."
"Sonic, if you want to go to Green Hill I'm not going to stop you," said Sally, "But please try not to do anything too rash. I know we're all upset, but Father must have a good reason for wanting us to keep out distance."
"I'm sure he does," Sonic agreed, "But whatever it is, I don't appreciate being kept in the dark."
"We will wait here with Monsieur Rotor. Go and find out what you can," Antoine assured.
Sonic nodded resolutely, and with a flash of blue and a strong gust of wind, he was off.
"Well," Sally said resolutely as she turned on her communicator, "He's not the only one who could use some answers."
"Oh yeah, Sally-girl?"
"I think we need to have a word with a certain echidna."
o-o-o-o
"Alright, kiddo, show me what'cha got."
With a flip of a switch, four sandbags descended across the spacious hangar. In the blink of an eye, Tails had seared a laser blast perfectly through the bullseye of each one, the burlap smoldering from the deadly precise beams.
Sir Charles let out a low whistle as he walked over to inspect the damage.
The hangar was an ideal place for small-scale combat drills and was often used by G.U.N. when the need arose for scenarios involving particularly secret tactics, infiltration, or stealth. So, it seemed logical as an ad-hoc testing center to ascertain the range of Tails' cybernetic qualities. Various obstacle courses, targets, and the like were scattered around the place, some still in-tact, most not. The past few hours had been filled with innumerable tests designed to help both Charles and Tails understand the specifics and limitations of Robotnik's design. The tablet Charles held now contained a wealth of data, facts and figures pertaining to the fox's strength; running and flying speed; weapons and defense systems; and various combat subroutines.
Incidentally, most people at Green Hill base could not for the life of them tell you the last time this hangar actually held airplanes.
"Pretty sharp, boy!" Charles exclaimed with a chuckle as the bags finally stopped swaying, "Howard, what's the data on that one?"
Howard had been chosen to work with the two mainly for his adeptness with tech, but also because Penn had insisted someone with combat training be on-site with the "unstable robo-fox". The second-in-command dutifully consulted the laptop that had been wirelessly synched to Tails in order to monitor his telemetry.
"Reaction time was practically instant, sir," the raccoon responded with a tinge of awe in his voice, "All targets were neutralized before the average Mobian could have even reached their blaster."
Tails' eyes found the floor, and he sheepishly rubbed one arm with the other as Charles made his way back across the space, "It's...uh...more instinct than anything at this point. I'm calculating thousands of things constantly and...it feels like it's dominating more of my personality by the minute."
"You said you removed some of your inhibitors, correct?" Charles inquired.
Tails nodded, "It started out as background computations, stuff I could focus on if I wanted to but otherwise, y'know, out of sight, out of mind."
"But lately I'm cognitively aware of everything I'm scanning and computing all at once. The dimensions of this building, the speed of the bags as they fell, even both of your heart rates. I just take in the data and suddenly I know it, intrinsically. It's really hard to explain."
"I'd imagine so," Charles said sympathetically.
"Is it...overwhelming?" Howard ventured.
"That's what's so scary about it: it's not overwhelming at all," said Tails, "Logically, I know it should be, but even though I'm thinking a million different thoughts at once, I'm not having any problems distinguishing them. It just…"
A brief silence washed over the cavernous room.
"It just feels like I'm more computer than person now."
Charles heaved a sigh, "And you're worried that might contribute to you...going off the rails again, right?"
"...yeah."
"Well, I developed the method to create your mind, but I have to admit I know very little about your body. That, I'm afraid, is all Ivo," Charles mused, "But in order for the A.I. to interact with the body, the must be interlinked in certain ways, so it's not terribly surprising that removing some of the mechanical inhibitors also had domino effects elsewhere."
"Is that something we should be concerned about?" Howard asked.
"Not overly," responded Charles, "But we should still be mindful of any triggers."
"As far as I've been able to tell, the only time I really lose it is when I get caught off guard by aggressive behavior," said Tails, "But even then it's...inconsistent."
"How do you mean?"
"Well, I got into a scuffle a few days back with Knuckles. That was the first time I really felt it, but it wasn't very intense; I still had control of myself. Every time since then, though, it's gotten progressively more intrusive. When I threatened Sally...I don't really remember anything at all before Sonic pinned me to the ground. That's the first time I've ever lost awareness."
"So it's escalating…" Charles pondered.
The hedgehog strolled over to a nearby workbench, still deep in thought, where he scooped up a tablet he'd been using for the day. Every scrap of information they'd uncovered today was held within the device.
And the results had been as amazing as they were concerning.
The three waited in a semi-uncomfortable silence as Sir Charles skimmed through his information, searching for something only he knew to look for. Eventually, after a few minutes of review, he seemed satisfied with what he found, and looked up with a grin.
"Well, it's all about retraining then, isn't it?"
He was met merely by two puzzled expressions.
"That is to say," Charles continued, "It's exactly what I told you earlier, Tails: adaptability. It may very well be that we can't get rid of your combat state. It wouldn't surprise me if it was intrinsically linked to your physiology, and now that it's been introduced to your A.I. by removing your inhibitors, it's impossible to remove."
Tails' ears dropped in disappointment, "That doesn't sound reassuring at all…"
"No, but think about this: we know that the combat state doesn't necessitate a loss of control. It seems to me you're fully capable of managing it, so long as you're in the right frame of mind to do so."
"So, what? I should...meditate or something?"
Charles shrugged, "Well, to be honest with you, it couldn't hurt. The mind, whether it's organic or electronic, isn't rigidly defined. It's very fluid, abstract. We'll need to do some work on how you can best recognize when you're entering that state so that you can keep hold of the reins, so to speak."
"And we're just going to trust he'll be able to do that?" Howard asked.
"We'll have to," Charles said matter-of-factly, placing the tablet back down onto the bench, "Unless you just want to lock him in a bunker and throw away the key."
"I wouldn't have any objections," a new voice ground out.
The three whipped around to see General Penn stepping coolly into the hangar, hands clasped behind his back. Howard snapped to attention, while Charles and Tails made no effort to disguise their contempt for the man.
"At ease, Howard," said Penn, "Charles, made any progress so far?"
"Plenty," Charles responded drily.
Penn offered only a noncommittal grunt, "Well, I'm just dropping by to inform you I'll be briefing my squad on the upcoming mission this afternoon. The Freedom Fighters will be briefed by the King tomorrow," he took a moment to cast a glare in Tails' direction, "Best I can tell, that includes this thing over here."
Tails clenched his jaw, but he knew Penn was baiting him, looking for a reason to label him a monster. He decided then that he would take the opportunity to implement his Uncle Chuck's advice.
Calm, rational thinking. Control your emotions.
"But if you think you can pull any shit," he continued, moving toward the fox until he was merely inches from his face, "I'll put a bullet through your processor so quick you won't know what hit you."
Tails felt the slight tug pulling at him, telling him to rip this aggressor apart. It normally would begin to take over, but he was prepared this time. After a moment to collect himself, he merely met the general's eyes with purpose, and smiled as sickeningly sweetly as he could manage.
"I'll make sure to keep that in mind, general."
The older man tried to hide it, but there aren't many things you can get past an android, and Tails noticed the flash of fury on his face before it was masked by a carefully constructed calm.
"Howard," the general barked, turning away from Tails, "Take down those sandbags and get 'em disposed of; that should be all for the day."
"Right, sir."
"Tails?" Charles asked, "I think we'll call it a day too. Could you give Howard a hand with that?"
Tails balked for a moment, before nodding slowly, "Uh...sure, Uncle Chuck."
Penn turned to leave without a further word as the two went to tear down the targets, but he was roughly grabbed by the shoulder and whirled around, only to be met by the murderous eyes of Sir Charles Hedgehog. The grip on his shoulder tightened.
"Penn, I want you to know that I have great respect for your intellect and devotion to this Kingdom," he said, his voice low and unwavering, "But that 'thing' over there? He's part of my family. And if you so much as dare to threaten him again, I won't need a bullet to take care of you.
"That will be all, general."