Tunes in Profile:

Don't Lose Yourself

The Drugstore Sells Sparks!

Intentionally Left Blank


L crouched backwards in a task chair, with his chin resting on arms crossed over the back, listening intently as Vey explained the entire process. From start to finish, she relayed everything that had happened until finally bringing him up to the current minute. Surprisingly, he took in all of it with very little reaction. A widening of the eyes here, a little pause of the blue code scrolling along his shirt there . . . but nothing drastic that indicated instability. In fact, he was as stable as she'd ever seen, and it made not a bit of sense.

The others . . . even without their memories, they had understood the meaning of their circumstances, and many of them had cursed and raged at her for turning them into "monsters" before imploding. After seeing it happen so many times, Vey had assumed that it was something inherent in the human animal that engendered such a response . . . something that told them they had been stripped of their humanity . . . robbed of their soul . . . reduced to a machine. She wondered why they failed to realize that a machine was all the human brain was anyway. Did they really believe that there was some kind of magical force inside them that animated their existence? Ridiculous.

But this one, he seemed to understand that the brain was nothing more than clockwork with the ability to create and manipulate things such as language. And it struck Vey that maybe that was why the presence of memories produced a viable result. This one . . . L, she had to remember . . . retained everything that made him who he was, including his knowledge of what makes one human. So was it that belief that served to override whatever it was that caused the meltdowns in the others? Or maybe that unknown of destruction wasn't present in . . . L, at all. Would keeping him in tact have made a difference at all then, if it had been simply luck of the draw?

All in all, he took it pretty well. Very well, actually. He even seemed especially interested in the details of his 'conversion', which couldn't please Vey more.

"To put it simply, you've taken my soul, for lack of a better term, digitized it, and put it inside a portable housing?"

"Basically."

"And now it's in this thing," he pointed down to the crystal platform he currently rested on before bringing that finger to his lips thoughtfully. "Which makes it possible for me to interact with you?"

"Yes."

"Interesting. What about that other one?" L scrunched his nose at the mention of her. "She seems to have a greater degree of mobility. Will I have that ability?"

Vey switched hands under her chin, using the other to tap a fingernail at his base. "Eventually. But first, do you understand what exactly she does?"

L stepped down from his chair to move closer to her, the vacated object behind him dissolving in a swirl of black pixie dust. "Besides terrorizing people? No."

Vey chuckled at him, amused by the 'sibling' rivalry going on between them. "The complex you're on houses a network built specifically for the AIs currently stationed here. A 'superhighway' of sorts, it's designed to give them instant access to any given location on the structure. Pandora is one of many who conducts specialized tasks throughout the installation, usually at my request."

"For what purpose?"

"Whatever you can think of. For instance, there are AIs that perform our record keeping. There are AIs that control the climate here. There are even AIs that reign over a certain piece of technology, or even an entire lab. Like Blind Radiance, who I'm sure you'll meet properly, whose domain is the conversion facility. Many of them are given responsibility just as a human being would have. Many of them are also assistants, like my Pandora. She does whatever I need her to, within her ability."

Eyes, dark as ink, gave her an admonishing look. "My Twenty-First century mindset whispers the word slavery to me."

"That's one of the many controversies surrounding the AI field. And I suppose you could look at it that way. There's no real pay-off for what they do, and they typically don't have the capacity to refuse to perform their designated tasks. But people are generally respectful of them, and they rarely mistreat them. There are even instances in which an owner will become romantically attached to their AI."

"Common among slave-owners, I believe. Is that common now?"

"Not so very common, no. Owners bond with their constructs, of course. Many tend to think of them as pets, or that loyal warhorse of centuries past. But to go so far as anything else? You rarely hear about it. AIs have a finite lifespan, and it's a short one at that. People tend to not want to involve themselves given that knowledge."

"I see." He looked as though he really did see, with that concentrated look on his face. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, and looked down to the non-existent dirt he kicked around. "And my lifespan?" he asked softly.

Vey had known this was coming, and her first instinct up until this point had been to lie. She had yet to tell him of his forerunners, and she still wasn't sure if she even wanted to. But lying to him now didn't seem the proper thing to do, not when he'd gotten this far.

"I don't know. It could be an hour, a week, a year. It could be the rest of my mortal life. You're the prototype of a construct that is supposed to last indefinitely, but whether that works out is anyone's guess."

"Story of my life." L mumbled under his breath, a sour look pursing his lips in a pout. After a moment more of staring downward in self-pity, he raised curious eyes back to her. "What are you intentions with me?"

"I assure you, they are of the most honorable kind. I would ask your hand in marriage, my dear, if you would have me." She gave a little wink.

He held up a hand in front of his face. "If you can find a ring to fit my finger, I'll take you up on that offer."

Vey gave a short-lived chuckle at that. "The truth is, I'm not sure. You're hopefully the first of many, but prototypes tend to end up in different circumstances than their successors."

At the word 'successors', his expression darkened, the bits of code on his form freezing in place for almost an entire second. "Successors?" he asked, more to himself than her. His hand fell back to his side, his posture deteriorating just a bit more. "Do you know who I am?" he asked after several moments, turning back to her.

"You mean who you were? No."

"Curious, then, that it didn't last." He mused out loud before deciding to explain to her. "My legacy, I mean. Do you have Google or some equivalent?"

"We do." Vey reached out to the semi-solid screen on her desk, tapping at the glowing blues and pinks of the display. "Query?"

"L + Detective. Could you please read what you find?" He came to the edge of his stage, watching her with interest.

She looked through the information returned, eliminating entries until coming across one that referenced his time period. "Recognized by the general public only by his alias, 'L', he was a world-renowned detective said to have held the top three spots in his respective profession. Known for his unequaled ability to solve difficult cases, L held a unique position among the world's police organizations that allowed him to call upon and direct those organizations however he saw fit."

"Although highly respected for his work on high profile cases, the LA-BB case being one of several, many remained mistrustful of his habit of keeping his identity a closely guarded secret. L communicated with law enforcement only by way of his assistant, Watari, or through a laptop, and it was because of this that he has been described by those who've worked with him as "elusive" and "hard to deal with".

"First formally introduced to the world during the onset of the Kira Case, December 5th, 2003, L became a constant presence in the public eye after his televised confrontation with the supernatural serial-killer termed "Kira". With the aid of the Japanese Task Force, L succeeded in defeating Kira on January 28th, 2010."

"L went on to solve hundreds of difficult cases, and remained undefeated until his abrupt disappearance in 2044 – the beginning of the Third World War. Many claim he was one of the first targets neutralized by the American Empire in their struggle for world power, but such claims remain unsubstantiated. The accepted belief is that L went into hiding in the American Midwest, and was subsequently killed in the enemy bombardments that destroyed the country."

"Third World War?" L repeated quietly from his cross-legged position on his pedestal.

"There's more. Should I read it?"

"Please."

"In recent years, with the discovery of hidden documents in an aging facility known as "Wammy's House", it has been implied that 'L' is not one person, but is in fact a title passed down to gifted children who are incubated by said facility. It is said that the original 'L' was murdered by 'Kira' on November 5th, 2004. The founder of the house, Quillsh Wammy, also passed on this day, and it is believed that Wammy may have been L, or may have worked with him. These documents have not been authenticated, and therefore these claims also remain unsubstantiated."

"That's it. Sounds like there should be more to such a complicated story."

"That's just the tip of the iceberg. One I would prefer you explored at a later time, Doctor."

"Of course." Vey shut off the display and remained quiet, given that her subject was clearly disturbed by the information he had requested. A world famous detective. Who would have thought? What were the odds that he would end up here, and Shepherd would pick him out . . .

Indeed. What were the odds that he would have picked some nameless brain that just happened to have come with Wammy . . . that just happened to have the qualifications she was looking for?

"I suppose competing with a war wasn't something I was going to win. What do you think?" L turned obsidian glass, solemn and sad, towards her in question.

"No one won that one, L. That conflict brought humanity to its knees in ways that no one thought possible. Is that your real name, by the way?"

He hesitated, as though he would refuse to answer, before giving a tiny, almost imperceptible smile. "Yes. L Lawliet is my full name."

"Sounds French."

"It is. A play off famous French explorer, Joliet. You should feel honored that you're only the second person I've told that to."

"Ha!" Vey gave a bark of laughter at his arrogance. "I'll be sure to note that in my log. Right along with "hard to deal with"."

L scrunched his nose again, something Vey wasn't sure to peg as a habit of his, or some kind of tic that she should be worried about. "I'm not hard to deal with. I like to think of myself as a pretty easy going fellow. Given my current circumstances, I think I'm doing very well for a dead man."

"While I'll agree that you look dead, you aren't dead."

He frowned at her, a wisp of raven hair falling to rest in-between his eyes. "I died."

"You paused, you mean. Your body died, but the brain isn't truly dead until it deteriorates beyond repair. Since you were preserved, you simply remained in a state of extended slumber. It wasn't your brain that failed, after all."

He stared at the ceiling for a moment, contemplating her words. "But my brain did fail."

This time it was Vey's turn to frown. "I don't follow. Your record indicates lack of oxygen, not–"

"It's not what killed me physically, but it's the reason for my death." He slid his gaze back to her, his head following a moment later. "My failure to defeat my suspect is what led to my heart attack."

Heart attack? At 25? That sounded suspect. But he'd requested that she didn't pry, so she refrained from taking the conversation down that road just yet. "I've already explained to you that you're not dead."

"And you didn't convince me of it, so maybe you should try again if my referring to it as death is an issue. I think . . ." L stood up, shuffling over to peer at the ledger she scribbled in with narrowed eyes. ". . .what are you writing?"

She didn't respond immediately, working to scratch her pen across the paper a few more times before sharing. "Subject appears hard-headed, displaying an inability to be corrected on his outdated information. Current behavior indicates a superiority complex, possibly brought on by stress or instability. I put that next to "hard to deal with" and "arrogant", in case you were curious."

"That's hypocritical. I already told you that I wasn't hard to deal with."

"Talk is cheap, L. Convince me."

L waved his hand dismissively at her. "See it your way. In any case, how long is this probationary period?"

"As long as I want it to be." Vey played with the antique pen in her hand, leaning back in her chair to regard him casually. He turned as his eyes followed, reminding her very much of a predator's gaze tracking its desired prey.

L gave a frustrated sigh, and as if his body were held up by a hydrostatic skeleton, the release of air slumped him even more. "And how long is that?"

Vey shrugged. "I don't know."

"There seems to be a great deal that you don't know. Perhaps there is someone who does know that I may speak to?"

"Looking to appeal to a higher authority? How very efficient of you. Unfortunately, there is none higher than myself when it comes to you. And when I'm satisfied that you are stable, we will go from there."

Vey could almost laugh. The poor boy, he looked at though he might stamp his foot, give a huff, and turn his back on her. But instead, he only pulled a hand out of his pocket to massage the bridge of his nose.

"Would it speed things along if I said that being an overconfident prick is normal for me?"

"Yes, that helps. What about the playing with your lips?"

"Normal."

"The toe curling?"

"Normal."

Vey scrunched her nose at him in the same fashion he had earlier. "And this?"

"An old habit of mine that seems to have resurfaced."

"Probably just something that got churned up from the bottom of your memory sediment. Nothing to worry about. All in all, how do you feel?"

"Fine. Better than I have in years, not counting your pause. The absence of mortal needs gives me an incredible sense of . . . freedom. Although . . . " L held out his hand, palm up, and gave it his full attention. It took just less than a full cycle for the beginnings of an object to materialize in a play of pink and white spirals – a teacup, complete with its accompanying saucer.

Vey watched in fascination as he brought the little cup to his lips and tested the liquid within. While she could see no reason why he wouldn't be able to taste it, given the brain should have no problem processing the information even in its digitalized stated, Vey had never seen anyone try it before.

"Well?" She asked when he gave a little grimace and cocked his head to peer into the cup with one eye.

L swallowed, hard. "Bitter, even with sugar."

She laughed. "You made it."

He turned his hand, letting the cup fall into dust. "Yes. I'll have to work on that."

"It may be that you're trying to process too many flavors at once. Try something simple."

"Simple? How about one of the most basic carbohydrates used by the human body?" L raised his hand with a fluid movement and gave a snap of his fingers. Apparently, he'd counted on something just a bit smaller, given his surprised reaction at the appearance of a sugar cube almost twice his size that solidified next to him. "The word Mammoth may have crept into my thought process at the last minute." he explained sheepishly while looking over his new creation.

"I understand. Happens to me all the time." Vey clicked her pen absentmindedly, watching as he 'stepped to the plate'.

With hands splayed out on one side of the cube, L leaned in and gave it a tentative little lick. "Perfect." he purred, before licking once more. Turning to her suddenly, he asked over his shoulder, "Do you mind?"

"That you make love to a gigantic sugar cube in front of me? Not at all."

His head lowered slightly. "Can I share?"

" 'Fraid Not."

"What a pity." With a jump, he latched spidery fingers onto the edge above him and pulled his body up to the top. "So why don't you tell me what you do know about my future?" He lay on his stomach, supporting his upper body on his forearms, and dipped his head down every so often to run his tongue along his sugary platform.

"Well, it depends. Protocol dictates that I hand you over to the higher-ups, and they'll make all those decisions. If I do that, there's a good chance they will want you destroyed."

L paused in his licking, his legs curling behind him in thought. "I'm illegal?"

Vey nodded, impressed with the observation. "In a way. You're the first of your kind, and prototypes are typically done away with once their technology goes into general use. Once they hear I've succeeded, your future will suddenly become very grim."

Her construct looked up, the blacks of his eyes twinkling with tiny bits of code. "How long do you think you can keep me a secret?"

Vey leaned forward to sit properly in her chair, tossing the pen on the desk in favor of steepling her fingers together. "I don't know. I can't keep you here forever, and there's more I want to do with you. But waltzing about out in the open will be risky. Tossing you into the system head first doesn't seem to be the best course of action."

"You have something else in mind?"

"I do. Thought I would start small – give you access to a closed system just to see how you handle it. A standalone cruiser maybe, or something a bit more . . . experimental."

Interested, L brought his legs forward to tuck them under himself, and raised into a crouching position on his cube. Giving her a questioning look, he asked "Such as?"

"Well," Vey gently pulled his platform to the edge of her desk, and leaned forward in her chair. "If you search for an Interface, you'll see it." She dipped her head, exposing the nape of her neck to the construct looking on curiously.

Initially, he didn't see anything. But upon closer inspection, he did see the sparkle of light that indicated an access port for him – just as he had seen with her computer. And as before, it was almost as if he could reach out and–

Vey straightened, chuckling. "That tickles."

For once, L looked thoroughly confused. "Are you human?"

"Oh, quite human. It's an implant – something I had done when I first started this project."

"And I can . . ." He searched for the right words. "I can go in there?"

"Theoretically, although I'm not sure what will happen. We could fuse together permanently, thereby forcing one of us to commit cognitive suicide. Or you could end up overriding my consciousness entirely, turning me into some kind of slave inside my own mind."

"I like that one." L smiled deviantly at her, a hideously charming thing of twisted, sharp features and dark eyes.

"Or, it could work as I've intended, and we will simply occupy the same space at the same time within my brain."

"And how would that work, exactly? I'll have access to–"

"Everything." She finished for him excitedly. "My thoughts, memories, voluntary actions. Even my involuntary actions. One heart, two minds. I thought, what better way to streamline the association between AI and owner than to let them share the same 'housing'? Originally, it was for combat purposes to cut back on human error. But, it didn't go over well with . . . well . . . anybody."

"Amazing. Your dedication to your work is admirable."

Vey gave a nervous little laugh. "Admirable being another word for insane."

"Hardly. I've seen insane, Doctor. You don't qualify."

Vey opened her mouth to respond when Pandora's crystal warmed on the desktop. With a little fizzle, she was present in all her ancient glory. Vey gave the AI her full attention . . . L didn't even bother to turn around and look at her.

"The Lieutenant is on his way here, Doctor."

"Exactly who I needed to see. Let him in please, Pandora."

"Yes Doctor." She shot a nasty look at the back of L's head before disappearing.

"The boy from before. A friend of yours?" L hopped down from his massive confection and sent it away with a wave of his hand.

"Something like that, I suppose." Giving the display a gentle push, she gave both of them more breathing room.

"He looks like me."

"He does, doesn't he? A relative, perhaps?"

L gave a shy little smile, shifting on his feet. "No offspring to speak of."

Her office door slid open to give Shepherd entrance, and then slid closed. Immediately, his eyes focused on the new addition gazing at him quizzically, and a grin spread across his face.

"Hey!" Shepherd converged on the desktop, addressing the construct as if it were a new puppy. "Are you talking yet?"

L's eyes managed to widen just a bit more, and he shot a quick glance at Vey before returning to the eager boy. "Yes."

"Sit down, Lieutenant. We need to talk." Vey interrupted, turning in her chair to motion the sofa behind her. Shepherd obeyed, looking just a bit put out about it. Vey watched, collecting her thoughts on how best to approach him. If he'd lied before, he would no doubt do it again, and she needed to bypass that.

"Who is this?" Vey indicated L beside her with a graceful hand.

Shepherd looked confused, his dark eyes flicking from her, to L, and back to her again. "I don't understand."

Vey stared at the boy, giving him her worst glare. "His name, Shep. What is his name?"

His gaze went back to L, his face appearing to be in utter turmoil. Did he really not understand what she was asking . . . did he not know?

"Doctor . . ." L began, stepping forward to the edge of his crystal.

"Don't interfere." Vey tossed him a quick glance before pinning Shepherd again. "I will ban you from this office, and ultimately him, if you don't tell me the truth right this instant, Shepherd River!" Vey hated shrill, but sometimes it had its uses.

At the mention of his last name, the boy winced and screwed his eyes shut.

"River?" L interrupted again, garnering looks from both of them.

Suddenly, Vey got the feeling that she was quite out of the loop. Between L questioning the boy, and Shepherd's oh shit expression, she found herself at a loss as to who she should be pressing for information now. As such, Vey addressed the ceiling.

"Just what is going on here?"