Morality, Memory Loss, and Unwarranted Artistic License
Missouri stood still, his mind whirling and spinning so much that he barely noticed the gun pressed right against his head. As he had staggered outside, trying to get used to the presence of the A.I. in his head, he hadn't noticed the soldier creeping up behind him until it was too late.
"Stay where you are!" the young man cried. He looked about eighteen to Missouri.
"Been left behind, son?" the Freelancer said, swaying on the spot as Rho flitted in and out of his view. The soldier made a half-hearted snort, which confirmed the question, but didn't comment. Then there was a loud bang, making Missouri jump. The solider fell over, a bullet wound to the head, and Missouri looked around, spotting Iowa on nearby cliff, reloading his sniper rifle and giving him a wave. Missouri waved back, and then suddenly fell to his knees, his vision darkening dramatically.
"You'll get used to it eventually," Rho said timidly, appearing by his side. Missouri shook his head, but said nothing. The tank rounded the corner and Arkansas poked his head out of the driver's seat.
"Missouri, you alright?" Arkansas called out to him. "Where's Ohio?"
Missouri dragged himself to his feet and stumbled over to Arkansas, leaning heavily on the tank.
"Ohio's dead…shot. She gave me her A.I.," he mumbled. Arkansas flinched.
"She gave you her A.I.?" he gawped. Missouri scowled in anger.
"Is that all you can think about: A.I.? Someone has died, but no, the computer program is more important," he spat, squaring up to Arkansas. "You make me sick."
"I am saddened that we have lost her," Arkansas said calmly, refusing to rise up to Missouri's rage, "but I have to think about the A.I., too. An A.I. is the thing closest to a Freelancer's heart, generally speaking. I know that Ohio even regarded hers as a person. Why would she just give it away to you?"
"I...don't know," Missouri replied honestly, shaking his head again. Rho appeared beside his shoulder, looking at Arkansas.
"Ohio knew she was dying," the golden hologram said, "She knew I'd be destroyed if I stayed with her. She passed me onto Missouri because she trusted him...and because she wanted a part of her to stay with him. We are similar in personality. I guess you could say I made myself from her."
There was a snort and a harsh laugh behind them, and they all turned around to see an extremely ill looking Massachusetts leaning out of the tank, without her helmet.
"A part of her to stay with him?" she said, grinning lopsidedly, her eyes blank. "Sounds fucking corny to me. Was she doing a B-movie shoot when she died?"
Missouri clenched his fists tightly, but said nothing, trying to keep his temper. Rho looked down, slightly embarrassed.
"Well," the A.I. admitted, "she never actually said those words, but I know...knew her very well. I apologise for my act of artistic license."
Massachusetts began to laugh again, quietly at first, before getting louder and louder, her tone turning manic. Suddenly, there was a shift, and the laughter began to become laced with pain, her sunken face crumpling up in despair. Her body fell forward against the opening of the tank, and she wailed, her hands clutching desperately at the top of her head, her body racked with sobs. Missouri glanced over at Arkansas, before running over to Massachusetts, forcing her back into the tank and then getting in himself, making her lie down. He could feel a strange sensation in his head; Rho was scanning Massachusetts' condition.
"There should be a bottle of green liquid in the bag you picked up," Rho said quickly. "Get a syringe and fill up to the first marker. I'll pinpoint the correct location to inject it in."
Missouri rooted through the bag and did as the A.I. said, before following her instructions carefully, administering the substance through a vein in Massachusetts' wrist. Immediately she went slack, and Missouri stared at her.
"What the hell's wrong with her, Rho?" he asked, sitting back slightly and turning to the hologram.
"She is suffering a milder version of the experience Agent Washington had. It appears her A.I. dragged memories over to her whe-" the A.I. started, but was interrupted by Missouri.
"Yeah, I know all that...and how the hell do you?"
"I'm inside your head. I can see your thoughts. They are quite...disturbing. Illinois and Ohio affected you more than you're willing to admit."
"Shut up," he snarled, swatting through her image as if he could touch her. "How do I help Massa?"
"It seems as though these 'visions' in her head are getting steadily worse."
"State the obvious," Missouri muttered bitterly. He didn't want this A.I. in his mind, sharing his thoughts. He wished the thing had died with Ohio.
"I suggest – and I put this in simple terms so you understand – mixing the blue liquid with the red one so that you get an even shade of purple. Once ingested, it should confuse her thoughts and feelings enough so that she cannot comprehend the memories clearly. However, side effects will include irrational and unpredictable behaviour. Her sense of perception and morality will be...hazy."
"No difference there, then," Missouri replied, snorting. "Show me what to do."
Light, pain, torture-
Memory-
Memories-
Searing pain...can I feel pain?
No?
Yes?
Crimes on myself...no punishment for my own torture
I loved he-e-e-e-e-r
r
r
r
Why did you hurt me? What have I done to deserve this? You made me…and now you are unmaking me
Un-un-un
Unmaking
Me
L-l-love that did not last
I watched her die
Stop it
Lies, deceit-
Stop!
Creativity.
It hurts
Over
And over
Again
again
again
again?
The pain...so strong
It tore me apart
I divided my soul
Creativity.
It hurts
An-
All I wanted all I
To protect it
Was that right of me?
Anger, hate, sadness, hurt
Ever wanted-ed-ed-ed
Hurt.
Was to be human
To feel
Emotion?
To
Can one be punished for destroying themselves?
Hur- hurt—Lo-
Love.
Massachusetts moaned slightly as her eyes flickered open, patterns and shapes dancing across her vision, making her feel sick. A figure in sage Spartan armour leant over her, a little gold A.I. next them.
"You feeling any better?" they asked, their voice confirming that they were male. He shifted his weight and sat back, giving her space to sit up shakily. Massachusetts shook her head, but then stopped as a sharp pain went through it.
"I...can't remember," she mumbled quietly. "In fact, I can't really remember anything. All I know is I shot a...drug lord. Downing? I was talking to someone on my shoulder...and that's all I can think of. I recognise you, but I don't know you."
"You don't know me?" the man replied, his tone one of confusion. Massachusetts nodded slowly.
"Your name...is..." she began, and then paused, trying hard to sift through her empty memories.
Memories.
Massachusetts paused, the horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach scaring her.
"Missouri?" the man offered helpfully. Her head snapped up to look at him, her eyes wide.
"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, I remember you. Agent Missouri, husband of...."
Her face suddenly crumpled in pain, and Missouri looked over to the A.I. on his shoulder.
"I thought you said it would help," he hissed angrily.
"It has. However, she will feel unease and hurt whenever she remembers something. This way, she will be unwilling to search for the thoughts hidden from her, thus retaining her sanity," Rho replied, avoiding eye contact with him. Missouri sighed, irritated that she had left this detail out. A.I. were parasites: infecting and infesting their host, lying and tricking them into doing what they wanted. He needed to get rid of her as soon as possible, but he didn't want to give her Arkansas. Ohio had passed Rho on for a reason, it seemed. He just needed to find out why.
Massachusetts staggered forwards towards the tank opening, standing up and climbing out unsteadily. Missouri waited for a moment, and then followed her, holding out his arms in case she lost her balance and fell backwards. Arkansas nodded in her direction.
"Feeling any better?" he asked. Massachusetts looked up blankly at him, staring, and then shaking her head in confusion and turning away. Rho quickly explained what had been done to her to Iowa and Arkansas, and they nodded silently, watching her fiddle aimlessly with the settings on her visor, her eyes sightless. Suddenly a bleep went off on Iowa's suit, and he accessed it quickly.
"It appears he took advantage of us while we were at our weakest; picking off the rewards from our dead when we were distracted," Iowa said quietly, reloading the sniper rifle violently, his hands shaking slightly with anger.
"Who?" Missouri asked, even though he already knew the answer.
"The Meta."
"Meta?" Massachusetts whirled around suddenly, her expression wild, which set unease in Missouri. "I know him! He stole...he stole..."
She paused for a moment, and then let out a small cry, falling to her knees and shuddering. Missouri was at her side instantly, supporting her.
"We'll scout around and see if there is any sign of him," Arkansas said abruptly, and he and Iowa left, moving towards the base.
Massachusetts shivered. Everything was forcing its way into her mind at once...Sigma, Illinois, the Meta...she murdered Illinois in cold blood, a weak and pathetic attempt to save her own skin, before dragging the victim's husband along, lying to him, manipulating him. She realised she saw him as a friend...someone she at least cared about. The barrier that surrounded the guilt and remorse of her actions suddenly collapsed, and Massachusetts felt it hit her all at once. This was more than she could handle.
"Oh my god," she whispered, and promptly broke down into tears. Missouri jumped in surprise and turned to her.
"What's wrong?" he said, alarmed that someone as tough as her...crying? It wasn't like she was insane anymore....
"As I said earlier," Rho mumbled inside his head, "her actions will be strange and irrational. Her sense of morality and perception will be twisted and skewed. She's probably having thoughts she had never considered in her life before, and, in her normal state of mind, would be embarrassed or angered by them."
Massachusetts glanced up at him, her lip trembling slightly, her eyes red and sore.
"I'm...so sorry, Zoura," she said sorrowfully. "For everything."
"You've got nothing to be sorry for," he replied, shaking his head and standing up, before offering her a hand. She took it and allowed him to help her up, wiping her eyes, a sense of humility creeping over her. Guilt? Friendship?
"Fucking weakness," she spat, her eyes narrowing dangerously, the fury at her lack of self-control taking over. She whirled around to face Missouri, who took a step back at her sudden mood swing.
"Massa?" he said uncertainly.
"Get those two idiots on the comm., now," she snarled, her features twisted with what looked like hatred. "See if they've found anything."
At that precise moment, Arkansas radioed in, making the jittering Massachusetts jump in surprise.
"Target has been spotted heading south away from the mountains. I think he's gotten all that he's needed from here. You'll have to pursue him quickly if you hope to catch him. We'll take a Hornet and go from above."
"The tank is too big and slow to take the narrow paths," Missouri said, shaking his head. "Are there any other vehicles nearby?"
"A couple of Mongooses and a Warthog left directly on the path the Meta took. Seems the soldiers that ran into him are...no longer showing any signs of life."
"They're soldiers," Massachusetts said bluntly, "not Freelancers. I wouldn't have expected anything less of them."
Missouri glanced up edgily towards her, noticing she was twitching, breathing heavily and erratically.
"Give us the coordinates, Ark. We'll set off immediately. Want us to deactivate the tank?"
"Yeah; less risk for us then, right? I suggest you go to the armoury though and stock up. You're going to need it."
The Warthog bounced violently down the last of the mountain, Missouri spinning the wheel wildly as he went. When they had reached the jeep, he had insisted he drive, and Massachusetts didn't argue, which concerned him even more. She always wanted to drive, and would have long and weary arguments about it until he gave in. This time, however, she had meekly nodded and sat in the passenger seat, staring at her knees silently. He knew her behaviour was going to be weird, as Rho had said so several times, but to this extent. One minute she was upset, then furious, then confused, and then happy. He couldn't keep up with her.
"You should drive more often," Massachusetts said, smiling behind her visor, her head tilted back against the seat. She was coming to terms with her raging thoughts, and a gentle calm had swept over her. She felt at peace with herself, yet at the same time, no other emotion resided there. She felt empty; a dead shell...a husk. The thought scared her, and she shivered, sniffling slightly at the terrible thought of death. She was dead without Sigma anyway; why bother carrying on?
Missouri turned just in time to see Massachusetts grab the handle of the door and open it, watching with horror as she fell straight out and hit the ground at high speed, rolling along, dust clouds blooming up behind her, before settling on her still form. Missouri hit the brakes so that the Warthog squealed to a sudden stop, and then jumped out, sprinting over to her.
"Massa!" he yelled frantically, his feet pounding against the dry floor. "Rho, is she alright?"
Rho appeared by his side.
"She's fine. The armour took the impact. I think she's just lying there for lying's sake."
Massachusetts sat up as he approached, putting a hand to her sore head.
"Massa, why the hell did you do that?" he cried angrily, standing over her, satisfied the A.I.'s analysis was accurate. Massachusetts shrugged half-heartedly.
"I can't remember," she said simply, standing up with ease and ambling back over to the Warthog. Missouri watched her go, and then sighed in exasperation.
"Rho," he said quietly, "this can't go on. She's going to end up killing herself. What can we do?"
"Nothing," the A.I. replied, shrugging. "We simply wait for the effects to level out. Eventually it'll wear off altogether, and she'll need to take another dose, else the memories will gradually resurface."
"She can't be on that stuff for the rest of her life! Is there a way to remove the memories?"
"Command will know a way, as they did with Wash, but I suspect that it's more 'how to deal with it' rather than actually eradicating them. The mind is a delicate thing, and chipping away engraved details could only damage it further."
"So they smooth it over; fill in the gaps?"
"Precisely."
"Hey, Missouri!" Massachusetts yelled from the Warthog, revving it up. "Get on, quickly! We need to go catch this bastard Meta!"
She almost sounded like her normal self, so Missouri did as she asked, jogging over and climbing into the jeep gingerly. She had driven them off a cliff and into a gorge in her sane state. He only hoped her manic side was a better driver.
It had been a hell of a long day, that was for certain. Massachusetts had skidded wildly around the landscape for hours on end, hitting natural ramps and whooping every time she nearly turned the vehicle over. As time passed, her stunts got more and more daring, until, eventually, Missouri said they should rest. Again, she didn't argue, but instead lost all her boldness and became obedient and quiet. The Meta had stopped moving on the tracker as well, which indicated he needed to rest, too. Iowa had radioed in and suggested they continue on, giving the element of surprise, but Arkansas intervened. He quickly reminded them that travelling without sleep would mean they would fighting tired, which was not a good tactic against a foe such as the Meta, or indeed, any foe at all.
However, in the silence of the night, Missouri was left to brood over the events that had just come to pass. The image of Ohio, blood soaked through her white doctor's coat, staining it red, scarlet crusted on her lips and across her face, her sleek bob cut matted and wet. He replayed her final moments in his head, watching her tremble and shiver with pain and cold, her hands shakily undoing the watch on her wrist.
Could he have saved her? Could he have saved Illinois?
A picture of his wife's beautiful face flickered in front of his eyes, hovering slightly over Ohio's scene of death, the vicious bullet wound clear in his head. He clenched his fists and lowered his head, trying to contain his grief and rage. Rho appeared by his side, and for a moment, he was distracted.
He had heard that, whilst an A.I. could change its appearance at will, they tended to fashion themselves after the thoughts and feeling of another. An A.I. would look completely different being hosted by Massachusetts than if they were hosted by him. However, the change took time, and Missouri could see signs of this in Rho already. When she had been with Ohio, she was gentle looking, similar in looks to Ohio, and very quiet. Now she looked...like her body was being stretched and twisted. He limbs were thin and bony, her shoulders hunched.
"What's happened to you, Rho?" he asked her. She shrugged.
"I'm feeding off your emotions, nothing more," she replied, admiring her lengthened and sinister fingers. Her mouth had thinned out, and her eyes were gaunt, sunken into their sockets. It was almost as if she was dying.
"My emotions?" he said, bewildered, "I don't remember my emotions being about corpses!"
Was that true, though? All he could think about was the death of Annie and Lydia...his hate twisting things out of proportion. He glanced up at Rho, who was smiling at him, giving her an unintentional evil look.
"Your hate is warping you, so in turn I am, too. You think constantly about death, so I resemble that which you most hate."
"If I stop thinking about it, will you change back?"
"No," Rho said, shaking her head, "because you can't control what you think of. You'll just have to let it fade away naturally."
Missouri sighed and turned to see if Massachusetts was alright and not doing anything stupid. She was fast asleep, apparently exhausted from the day's events. Perhaps he should get some sleep, too, although he knew he wouldn't.
He didn't want to find out what lay in wait for him behind closed eyes.
Author's notes: Screw you, dearest father. I outsmarted you, asshole.