Disclaimer: The Loud House and associated characters belong to Nickelodeon and Chris Savino
DOLL: Reissue
By Lola Presents
Chapter 10
Activity spurred at a location some distance away, in a bunker beneath the dunes. Men and women in dark grey uniforms began chattering, computers powered up, and silent alarms flashed. The moment those in command planned for was at hand. A tall, stocky man with a stern look stood, towering over the others as they took their seats at their terminals.
"Commander," one of them announced sharply. "The adults have arrived and appear to be preparing for the assault, sir."
"What about the children?" asked the commander impatiently.
"They're being given arms, sir," another person relayed.
"Very well," laughed the one in charge. "The test has begun, then. Let's see how these 'civilians' fare against the dolls. Let them know of the impending breach, but set them to level responses only, at least for now."
"Verbal and physical only, sir?" inquired the first soldier.
"You heard me," barked the commander. "We must test every level of their training and capabilities."
"Aye, sir," acknowledged the man, quickly entering the correct codes.
The small group of insurgents approached their target under cover of night, unaware that their every move was being monitored, let alone guided. They were walking into a trap and had Lisa given Lincoln's favorite sci-fi movies any credit, she might have seen through it.
And though Lisa did have her doubts about the lack of patrols and air support, she reconsidered. The base was supposed to be a secret, which would be hard to pull off if troops and aircraft constantly encircled it. Still, she knew something was up; she only didn't know what.
Being the oldest and most proficient at the technology in their hands, Mr. Stoltz led the inexperienced team in a single file line from the edge of the canyon to just behind what they believed to be the mess hall. Then came Lincoln, Lisa, Doll, Lola, Clyde, and Mrs. Loud.
As Doll was paramount to the mission, her safety came first. Then came the two younger children, flanking Doll front and back. Next came the pre-teens and the adults. Neither Mrs. Loud nor Mr. Stoltz liked bringing the children along, but it seemed they had little choice.
Leaving them behind would have left them relatively unprotected should someone attempt to seize them. Bringing the kids along was almost as risky, despite their drive and determination. But at least the adults felt some comfort knowing what was happening to them at all times.
"Alright," whispered Gerald, motioning everyone closer as they huddled against the back wall of the building. "I know it's late, and even dolls have to recharge every night, but we have to assume they do things in shifts. So, we must clear every one of these buildings to be sure."
"Why do the mess hall first?" asked Clyde, to which Lisa's answer was, "At this time of night if there's anyone in there, it'll only be a patrol instead of an entire platoon."
"Exactly," whispered Gerald. "Now, on my mark, crouch, stay low, and hurry around to the front door. Rita, you cover us from the back. I'll take the front. Once we reach the door, don't stop. Follow me inside and immediately look for cover."
"Got it," everyone whispered.
"Okay..." hummed Gerald as he watched two adult dolls walking together pass by and circle the dome-shaped building. "Now!"
Quickly, everyone did as instructed and hustled their way around the small building toward the entrance. And while they were mostly silent, they managed to kick up a fair amount of sand. Rita nervously brought up the rear, holding her gun as Gerald had taught her, scanning the area for more patrols.
When Gerald reached the door, the kids quickly lined up behind him, followed by Mrs. Loud. Quietly but forcefully, he opened the door and stepped inside. Almost immediately, he was accosted by two unarmed doll soldiers, getting punched in the face.
"God damn it," he yelled, striking the doll across the face with the butt of his pulse rifle, knocking him over a chair. "I just started healing, you bastard."
The second doll charged at Mrs. Loud, assuming the adults to be in the lead. However, Clyde's experience in video games had his brain at the ready. "Look out, Mrs. L," he yelled as he pushed her against the door, closing it, moving her out of the way.
"Thanks," she chirped, "But I got this." And, bearing her weapon on the doll's location with one arm, she squinted one eye and waited for the doll to make another attempt. Then, with one light squeeze, an orange beam emitted from her rifle, piercing the doll's head, and it dropped like a rock.
The first doll returned to its feet and wiped the blood from its cheek. "Stand down!" it ordered. "You are trespassing on government property. Stand down, or face the consequences!"
"Stand down, my ass!" shouted Rita with rage in her eyes, letting loose a volley of bolts that took down the doll where it stood.
"Great," sighed Gerald, looking around nervously, listening for company. "Do you think you could've made any more noise?"
"Sorry," apologized Mrs. Loud. "But, I don't take order from anyone, especially from that lot."
Time seemed to stand still for Doll. Her mother's words sparked something within her, and she recalled her thoughts just before she deleted her initial directives. Nobody should ever feel obligated to take orders from anyone. And after staring at Lincoln for a moment, she considered her sister, Lola, and her brow furrowed.
Finally, she glanced at the two dead dolls and felt pangs of sorrow flow through her. They might have been synthetic, but they were just as alive as she was. Only they had no choice but to fulfill their directives, which got them killed.
Suddenly, she threw her gun to the floor. "No more..." she whispered.
"All clear," announced Gerald after quickly checking the kitchen. "It looks like that's all there was in here," he finished. Then, noticing Doll standing there, looking at her discarded weapon, "Uh, Doll? What's the matter?"
"I can't do this anymore," Doll announced, tears beginning to fall around the light brown skin of her cheeks. "They might not have been human, but they were alive," she whimpered. "They're like I used to be; alone and confused, bound by their directives. We need to end this without killing any more of my kin," she demanded with intensity. "They deserve freedom, not death. They're innocent in all this."
Gerald swallowed and looked at his gun, hesitating. His survival instinct laid out a counterargument that seemed just as valid as Dolls. But after a moment of reflection and thinking about his daughter, Sylvia, he, too, threw down his weapon. "Y-you're right," he conceded, leaning against the wall. And, after Gerald's gun came to rest, the others followed suit, one by one, discarding their arms.
"You do realize that this significantly decreases our chances of success," Lisa pointed out, adjusting her spectacles.
"Looks like we're doing this the hard way, after all," sighed Lola, gathering her hair behind her and securing it with a scrunchie. "Let's do this. What's next?"
"The latrine," whispered Mr. Stoltz. "I doubt anyone will be there, though."
"Two dolls down, sir," relayed one of the operators. "And, it looks like they've thrown down their weapons. Do you think they're surrendering? Shall I order the dolls to stand down?"
"What the hell..." said the stern man as he watched the feeds with curiosity and leaned against the retaining wall before him, staring fiercely at Doll. "What kind of game is she playing? That's the original Doll! She should know what synthetics are capable of! Damn it! This doesn't make any sense."
"Sir?" inquired the operator again. "Your orders?"
"Raise the doll's levels to 3," he barked. "Let's see how they fare against a more aggressive stance. Maybe they'll reconsider and pick up their weapons again."
"I'll go," volunteered Rita. "If there is anyone in there, they'll be occupied, and I'll be able to take them by surprise," she said.
"Mom, you can't go alone," insisted Lincoln. "Let me go with you," he argued.
"No, son," cooed Rita. "It's better if I go alone. Less noise and distraction."
"She's right, Lincoln," agreed Gerald. Then, facing Rita and pointing to a small white box on his belt, "Rita, you have a military-grade stun gun on your belt, just here. Use that if you need to."
Mrs. Loud looked at her belt, located the box, and unlatched the top. "Got it. Wish me luck, guys," she sighed heavily, peeking out the door.
"Good luck, Mom," her children sang behind her.
"If I'm not back in five minutes," instructed Rita, pausing to gather her thoughts, "move forward without me."
Like an elegant feline, Rita was out the door and scuttling along the edge of the building. And after reaching the corner of the mess hall, she paused, estimating about ten feet between the two buildings. Then, just as she started a low sprint, the patrol came around the far side of the dome.
"Shit!" she muttered to herself as she dove behind a small stack of crates that lay in the sand between the buildings. Fumbling with nervousness, she pulled out her taser and charged it.
"Sh," whispered one of the dolls, holding their hand up and coming to a silent stop. "I thought I heard something."
"Me too," the other replied. "It sounded like it came from over there," he said, pointing toward the boxes. "Probably just an animal, but we'd better check it out."
As the two men slowly approached Rita's location, she began to sweat and was about ready to leap from behind her cover when they stopped and spoke again. "I don't see anything," she heard one of them say. "Me either," said the other. "Must've been the wind."
As the patrol wandered off, Rita looked down and noticed a scorpion making its way up her leg, and without thinking about it, she smashed it with her other boot, creating a discernable crunching noise.
"That's no wind," declared one of the men as they ran back toward Rita's position.
Rita grimaced at her mistake, waited until they were within range, then stood, checking the first soldier in the chest with her taser. Mrs. Loud jumped back to avoid getting trapped under the falling doll, watching it twitch and fall silent.
The second doll took an aggressive stand and raised its fists toward Rita, but she stood her ground. Slowly, they circled each other for a moment, then the doll lunged forward and took a swing at Rita, who ducked and retaliated with a swing of her own, aiming straight for the doll's jaw.
The doll ducked and landed a hard blow to Rita's gut, and she nearly threw up on the spot. Instead, she fell backward, grabbing onto the doll as she went. And, as the doll rolled off her to compose itself, the light on Rita's taser was again ready.
The doll stood over Rita, went to its knees, straddling her form, and readied itself for the knockout blow. But as it pulled back its arm, Rita jabbed the taser into its neck, sending it reeling to the ground, atop her legs, pinning her in place. Frantically, she kicked at the doll until it rolled off of her and went silent.
Then, knowing the coast was clear, she resumed her stealthy approach to the lavatory and quietly entered. Not unsurprisingly, the place was quiet and desolate. And after a cursory search of the stall, she slipped out the door and headed back toward the mess hall.
"What just happened?" demanded the commander as he looked on in confusion.
"They still appear to be armed, sir," responded an operator. "Only, their intent has changed from kill to incapacitate, sir. Shall I adjust the parameters?"
"No," growled the angry man in charge. "Let's see where this goes first."
"Mom!" cried the children as Rita finally stepped through the door. "Are you alright? What took so long? We were just about to head out! We thought..."
"No," their mother sighed. "I'm fine. The lavatory is clear, but I had a little trouble with the patrol," she said, holding her chest, wincing slightly. "I got them down, though."
"Good work," cheered Gerald, patting Rita on the shoulder. "We'll let you rest before moving on, but we can't take too long."
Rita nodded. "Of course," she agreed. "I'll be alright. I'm only winded and need to sit down a moment. If any of you need to eat, I suggest doing it now."
After Lincoln and Clyde grabbed something from the vending machine and wandered off, talking about the mission with enthusiastic excitement, Doll waited her turn behind Lola. Once they'd made their selections and received their snack, Doll held onto Lola, stopping her from walking away.
"What?" asked Lola, looking sullen.
Doll nodded to a table not far away. "Come on," she insisted. "We need to talk."
"About what?" complained Lola, believing she already knew and fearing the truth. Frowning, she desperately wanted to avoid the discussion. "Do we have to do this now?"
"Yes, we do," whispered Doll. "After all, we might not get a chance later."
"Fine," conceded Lola, taking a seat and resting her head in her hands, smushing her cheeks. "What is it?"
"Back when I was synthetic, I had these things called directives," Doll reminded her. "And, regardless of what I felt, I couldn't act against them."
"We know this already, Doll," said Lola, exasperated and letting her arms fall to the table. "Get to the point."
"The thing is," sighed Doll. "Earlier today, you gave in immediately when Lincoln made his demands. But, I can tell you don't like his terms any more than I do. So, I have to ask, why did you concede?"
"Because I'm in love with him, Doll..." spouted Lola. "You know this."
"I'm in love with him, too, Lola," said Doll, a concerned look on her face. "And I probably always will be. But I'm not sure he knows what love is."
"What?" gasped Lola incredulously. "Of course, he does."
"No, Lola," whispered Doll, not wanting to get overheard. "I may only be a few months old, but while I was still an A.I., I had a direct connection to the internet. There's a lot of information in my brain now that doesn't make sense yet, and I'm still figuring it all out. The one thing that's been on my mind the most is the concept of love, and that includes mutual respect."
"So, what?" griped Lola, not understanding Doll's comment. "He respects us."
"No, he doesn't," answered Doll, slowly shaking her head. "If he respected us, he would've discussed the issue. But he didn't. Instead, he merely told us what would happen and expected us to fall in line."
"Doll, it would help me a lot if you just said what's on your mind, okay?" sighed Lola, growing weary of conscious thought, the weight of the day bearing down upon her. "I'm not in the mood for this."
"Lola, don't you see?" Doll inquired, leaning in. "He's treating us like dolls. Your love for him has blinded you to it, acting like a directive. I only saw it because I know what fighting against such directives is like. However, you haven't had that experience, so I don't blame you. And, as your sister, I'm telling you, he's using you."
Lola furrowed her brows and risked a glance at her brother. "You think so?" she whispered.
"I know so," Doll responded quietly and full of warmth. "He's older than us, and I suppose that might have influenced you some as well, as a matter of trust, but trust can be a double-edged sword. Too much trust leads to unconditional obedience, and that's not something I would wish on anyone. Look at me, Lola," Doll insisted. "This isn't who you are. You're strong, independent, and don't take crap from anyone. Don't tell me all it takes is a guy to twist that into someone mundane and compliant. Why should we have to sacrifice our needs and desires for him?"
Lola sat there, lost in thought. And resting her head on her folded arms, she knew in her heart what Doll spoke the truth. However, Lola wasn't quite ready to admit it. She loved Lincoln and wanted him to be happy, and if accepting Doll as she did him made him happy, then so be it.
Then again, if what Doll said was true, then he should want her to be happy, and she wasn't. It wasn't that she didn't find Doll attractive and likable; she did and was what fueled their rivalry. They were too much alike. But, she wasn't in love with Doll, and she was reasonably sure that Doll wasn't in love with her.
Slowly, her thoughts came together like a celestial puzzle, bringing clarity and depth to her vision. "I hate to admit it," Lola said, "but you're right. The question now is, what do we do about it?"
"Well," sighed Doll, resigning herself to the only valid path forward. "I don't know about you, but when this is over, the first thing I'm going to do is dump him. But he'll only learn his lesson if you do too. Of course, I won't stop you from deciding on your own, but he needs to know where he stands and have time to think about his actions alone."
A look came over Lola, filled with rage and contempt. "I have half a mind to go over there and pummel him right now!" she grumbled, grimacing intently.
"No," suggested Doll patiently. "That would only compromise the mission. "Wait until afterward. I only brought it up with you because I want to say I'm sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. Maybe, had I never gotten created, you and he..."
Lola looked at the table and pursed her lips. "I'm sorry, too, Doll," she whispered. Then, looking into Doll's eyes, "I misjudged you, and I'd miss you had Lisa not made you. Don't ever suggest that again, alright?" she confessed. "Sisters before misters?"
Smiling, Doll nodded.