The gun was held steadily, key clicked back and ready to fire. The quartet were talking among each other as the maintenance packed and moved speakers from the stage into the back closets. Pixal had found her spot next to Lou, waiting for any sort of instruction and listening in on the conversation they mused. She swore she saw a glint in the rafters, but her reflex was too slow. The shot rang out as everyone ran in different directions, chaotic movements and yelling as people headed for the doors. More shots rang out, Pixal grabbed Lou's arm and attempted to pull him towards the exit but to no avail, he sunk to the ground, arm flopping lazily as she threw tugged. The gun fell from the rafters as she looked up, seeing a flash of red that disappeared in the dark.
He remembered it as a failed mission, one that bumped him back in the world of agents and thievery, the one that costed him a great deal of income. He didn't mean to kill him, he wanted the droid not the blood, but it was too late now. It had been over a year since it happened, yet it still came back to him now and then. Ronin tried not to think about it.
Climbing into the abandoned building, he snuck around looking at the monitors and trashed computers, graffiti, and rust. This place had once housed a mysterious company that was known by the name 'Julien', after the head engineer. Originally the company dabbled in electronics -cars, lights, monitors and computers for devices,- but after the music craze that gained steam on the late 70s, their efforts turned to instruments. It was rumored that they had created a synthesizer that buddied with a robot, a tall droid that bore shades and a broad, cocky smile. There were seldom pictures and video of the synth in action before the instrument and the company mysteriously disappeared, that of which Ronin had obtained through the grapevine.
He looked through the cabinets and pulled the remaining hard drives from the dusty computers, throwing them into a pack that was held on by satchel. He knew that, if he had found this lost piece of tech, he could sell it for the highest bitter and reclaim his worthiness in the industry. Ronin snuck his way through the stripped rooms, gliding the flashlight into every crook and cranny. He worked his way down from the top, sliding down the rails of the loose stairwells and sticking to the walls as he went. So far, it was a bust- the place had been raided and vandalized through and through, and Ronin was losing hope. That was, until he caught his foot on the tiled floor near the wall. It's hollow sound sparking the passion in his eyes.
"A-hah!" He chirped, pulling an old water pipe from the ceiling and slamming it into the drywall. It broke away with ease, revealing the full tile and a small latch that was hidden within. Prying it open, a plume of dust released from the stale smelling hole. He slid his way down the ladder, flashing the light on the dust-covered walls. Prying open an old door at the bottom, he was surprised to see everything clean and orderly on the other side. The shelves held various electronics and wiring, tools lined up on the walls and boxes pushed underneath the tables lining the walls. The light glistened against the yellowing plastics and glasses, brushing across two yellow dots before shining against the speakers and more wire. He whipped the light back, the dots missing followed by brief shuffling. Ronin quickly snapped the door closed, sucking down his giddiness.
"We can do this the easy way or the really easy way," He started, flicking off the light and silently moving around, "There's nowhere for you to run, so might as well give yourself up." He followed the noise, throwing marbles across the room. The footsteps stopped and shifted, stepping the other way before bumping into him. Ronin wrapped his hands around the droid, surprised by how short it was. "Gotcha!" He smiled, picking it up as it squirmed and whimpered. He threw the pack around it, zippering it shut and tossing it out of his shoulder. "Now stop squirming, We're going for a ride."
-o-o-
"Say somthing."
"Ssssomethingggg"
"Okay, anndd, say something." Zane let out an unholy garbled screech, to which Jay loosened a wire and hooked it up back to here it was. "Okay, let's not move that one, how abouutt.." Zane glanced up at the searing sun through his shades, Jay had been at this since he got home from school and the two weekdays before. Wires being undone and rehooked to various other nodes over and over, he was making steady progress but it seemed that when one wire was adjusted, the rest would have to be as well. "Okay so I did that one, that pattern, that, that.. Hmm hmhmmm.." Jay marked down the arrangement in his notebook, a checkmark besides it. He flipped through the pages of similar drawings, glancing between the wire-board and the papers checking to see if he missed any patterns. "Well, one more for today, okay?" He unhooked a wire and plugged it in, "Say something."
"I can't see." his smooth voice came through clear as glass. Jay blinked, surprised by how calming and soft his voice was- his appearance definitely made him think he'd sound different. "Jay, did you hear me?"
"Wha-? Oh, uh, heheh, what did you say?"
"I literally cannot see." Zane moved his head around, blinking and taking off his sunglasses. His eyes were blank screens that flickered and let out a high pitch quiet squeal.
"Ohg, gosh darn it!" Jay protested, "if it's not one thing it's the other- hold still." he pulled the wire and put it back where it was, Zane's eyes flickering back to standby colours. "And now we're back to square one, great, peachy!" he let his frustration show through, throwing the notebook and pen on the dusty ground. "Uhg, and I was soo close! Now I have to start all over!" He paced around, rambling. Zane watched him and slowly fit the glasses on, masking his look of concern.
"Not to mention the eyes- which were tedious as it was-" Jay looked up at the droid who held him still, being tugged close into a brief hug.
'It's okay.' Zane smiled softly, 'I can see, and I can write.'
"I know, I just… wanted to make things easier for you," he sighed and kicked the ground, "This would be so much easier if I had the instruction manual." Zane hesitated, biting his lower lip. He watched jay clean up the tools, writing and erasing words on the board over and over. He didn't want to go back there, the musty dark cramped space that he had been in time and time again. On the other hand, he didn't like seeing him so stressed… a little bit of pain for a booklet is better than seeing him this way over and over.
"Hey Zane, did you see where I placed the soldering pen? Zane?" he looked around before noticing the whiteboard and marker set neatly to display: 'Be back later, see you tomorrow.'
-o-o-
The broken glass crunch beneath the old sneakers, he snuck his way through the window in which he left when he found Jay. It was a day he'd never forget, seeing him sleep so soundly, arms wrapped around his pillow and stuffed bear. Actually he thought he was dead, but it was still special to him nonetheless. Zane made his way to the back of the building, sneaking between broken doors and wooden boards, sliding a panel to the side and stepping down the small spiral staircase. He spun the wheel on the heavy steel door, pulling off his shades and illuminating the area with his eyes. He made his way down the dark, dusty corridor, glancing at the various lab doors marked by letters. Zane pushed open a door, stepping into the musty lab that he had been left laying in for dozens of years.
Posters, newspapers, blueprints and notes littered the far wall and extended up the sides, pencils and pens left spread out across the floor and desk, computer tipped over and gutted, the monitor left untouched. Various other spare limbs and attachments were pushed to the sides with an attempt at some form of order, lab and test reports left crumpled and littered at the waste basket. He pulled open a draw of a file cabinet, fingering through and checking various manila folders before pulling the one labeled 'Proj. 40 Manual' in bold red letters.
He pulled a few extra folders with similar names, 'maintenance', 'Data log', and 'programming'. Fingering through the papers to make sure they were all there, He lifted shirt and slid them into his chest panel for safe keeping. "Got'cha!" a hard voice muffled triumphantly through the vent. Zane froze, slowly kneeling down and putting his ear to the grate. There was some clanking and shuffling from the other end before hearing the door handle squeak and shut. Pushing himself to his feet, his sneakers slid across the dusty floor and up the steps where he gingerly slid the panel back in place with a loud 'click!'.
Zane held his breath, feeling the footsteps increase in vibration as they came closer. They halted suddenly before landing hard. Another bout of silence before hearing the voice cuss and land hard again. Then, silence. Zane slowly backed down the steps and into the main corridor again, cautiously slipping back to the lab room. He began to organize more papers together, filling them into the chest compartment. He took the gutted computer case and filled it up with notes and articles, the evidence and records stacked neatly in and screwed shut. He glanced at the dusty picture frame, hand hovering above indecisively.
Pulling the picture out, he gently looked it over, looking at the other pictures that were hidden underneath it. The first one being a family picture, Julien standing proud with a hand on Echo and himself- he looked different then, he looked human. The one behind it was silly, Zane pointing to the left, Echo dramatically holding his hand to his head as if he were to faint, and Julien with his tongue sticking out, hammer held to his cocked head and eyes unfocused. He couldn't help but chuckle to himself, remembering….
Zane's face fell flat, staring at the image that became iconic in magazines and interviews. That time then was blurry and fragmented, where he was told to not act a certain way or say any words that he hadn't recited. He ran by scripts and false smiles- media ate it up and begged for more. He had awoken without being able to recognize himself, his face, his voice- everything. For the longest time, he disliked how the lights would reflect off of his metal plating, or how people would entertain him with their elementary talk and questions spoken out of accent. The spare limbs were never for him to use, nor Echo.
Echo had fallen out of the plans completely, Julien had made sure he wouldn't mind, disabling a whole slew of emotions from him and hiding him in the back room. It was the first time Zane realized that he was a machine in a mans world, and it broke his heart. Were it all a facade? Did Julien treat him so badly at the end as a cover up, or were it his true colours? He crumpled the picture in his hand, letting it fall to the floor before taking the others and tucking them away within a manila folder.
After taking a brief nap, Zane cautiously made his way up the latter, pushing on his shades and slipping out the window, tower-case in hand. The late night silence drew its shadow that spun with every passerby of a streetlamp. Only the smokers and 3rd shifters were out at this time, it would make an easy trip home. He passed by a few various store-fronts, stopping to look at the mannequin wearing a scarf and jacket. Immediately, his imagination lingered to Jay and the surprised look on his face- oh, how he'd throw his arms around him with a broad smile, 'Oh Zane, This is so beautiful, you know me too well~' and he'd hug him tightly, and they'd share a kiss and- well, okay maybe not that far. But, the colour and style would look perfect. Taking a mental note of the street and store name, he carried on, trying not to let his fantasies get the better of him.