Chris and Holly pelted through the winding corridors of the lower level. The agility with which Holly flitted through doors and around corners took Chris by surprise; more than once he wound up bouncing off a wall or door frame trying to change direction so quickly.
"Where are we going?" Chris managed between breaths, as they tore down a particularly long curvature in the passageway.
"That little misunderstanding with security resulted in us being ejected from the opposite side of the building to where they'll take Titch," Holly explained, effortlessly maintaining a dead run. "We must get round the perimeter of the inner circle to reach the maintenance department."
Soon they were scrambling up a stairwell; its primary function a fire exit, there was nobody to be seen inside. "Here!" Holly panted, coming to a stop beside a pair of doors. Footsteps could be heard on the other side. "Are you okay?" she whispered, as Chris heaved for air. She herself was breathing hard, now.
"Can't - feel legs, but… yeah! Phew…" he flashed her a wry grin.
"What is it?"
"Oh - nothing, just - you know - a human woman - couldn't possibly - have run that fast, in heels."
Holly chuckled breathlessly as she cracked the doors for a look outside. Peering through the crack beside her, Chris could feel heat radiating off her body; its subtlety reminded him of the way halogen bulbs cast warmth on someone walking underneath them.
"Holly- you're overheating." Chris gasped, slowly regaining his breath.
"Oh, an expert on persocom thermodynamics? How useful, I'm so glad we hired you." she said sarcastically. "I'm fine, Chris. Concentrate." Instantly her panting stopped, as if she'd simply decided that was enough. Her breathing didn't drop back to resting, though; she might not need oxygen, but she'd have to vent that heat somehow.
They watched the sparse traffic passing by outside, waiting for the moment when it emptied out and became quiet.
"A task from security would be high priority, but maintenance would've been busy before the Spine locked down… If we're lucky, they're backed up and she'll be in temporary storage before processing. But she'll be at the top of the list - therefore, we may have only small window of opportunity." Holly murmured, pushing the door open and strolling casually out into the corridor. Chris followed, trying to look like he was meant to be there. Holly moved diagonally across the open space, slinking down another nearby passageway with Chris following suit.
"What do we do when we find her?" Chris asked, as they travelled briskly down the empty passage.
"I don't know." Holly muttered, shaking her head. "I don't exactly rescue my kind from destruction as a matter of regularity."
"Why now, then?" Chris pressed, scanning the signage around them. They appeared to be heading into an area of the department reserved for storage. He conjured up a hazy memory of the floor plan for this level of the building. Wasn't the storage for maintenance flanked on both sides by the facilities that used these materials? The idea that someone could burst in from either direction made him nervous.
Holly hesitated before responding. "If you found yourself in a situation where your actions could save someone's life, would you take the risk?"
"You're deflecting. With that logic I could argue that you should try to save every persocom that ever got scheduled for disassembly-"
"No. It rarely happens, and I wouldn't be aware of it, if and when it did." she glowered at his sceptical expression. "...Maybe I just think you'll be good together."
"What are you doing?" a voice called out behind them, causing them to stop in their tracks. Sharing a nervous look, they turned to see a grey-haired, cantankerous-looking man emerge from another set of doors. He looked like he could be a cell leader for some of the maintenance staff. Likely having worked at NEIS for many years, he would know they weren't supposed to be here. Chris gritted his teeth.
"If your persocom needs attention you've gone the wrong way." the man grumbled, frowning at the two of them. "What's wrong with her anyway?" he held up his hand as Holly opened her mouth, looking to Chris for an answer.
"Oh… uh, well…" Chris scrambled for inspiration, but there was very obviously nothing wrong with Holly at all. She looked at him expectantly, and he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "S-She has... software issues."
"Then why is she in Maintenance?" the man growled, narrowing his eyes and stalking grumpily towards them. "I'm so sick of you lot coming to us with every little problem. Software isn't our thing, don't you know that?"
"But-"
"I said no! Unless you want her wiped we deal with real-world problems only, so take her to S-Dev."
"W-well there's also this problem with her hand-"
"Then go and wait with the others. There's a queue, in case you haven't noticed!" He gestured up the corridor, in the opposite direction to which they had been heading. "You need to leave now. In fact, you better just come back another day, we're so backed up there's no point in trying now. Go on; you're not supposed to be back here anyway!"
There had to be a way to change his mind! At this rate they would be thrown out of the department! Chris heard Holly shift beside him… a whine of straining servo motors, followed by a subtle crunching sound.
"You didn't let him finish." Holly said nonchalantly, producing a hand from behind her back. Her index finger was mangled, jutting out from her hand in an uncomfortable direction. "See? This isn't just some twitchy angle encoders, it's a priority repair!" Chris fought the reflexive gasp that tried to burst from his mouth. Did she just…?
The old man seemed to relax a little. "Oh, I see. Well, thanks to this security shutdown I have some time, finally - that rush for the Spine was ridiculous, I hate that we have to deal with PIDO down here," he ran a hand through his thinning hair, frowning in thought. "Tell you what, I'll fix this myself and let you jump the queue... By way of apology, you understand." he finished pointedly, taking Holly gently by the arm. She blinked in surprise, glancing worriedly at Chris.
"Oh no, we couldn't bother you, we're not in a rush, we'll wait-" Chris said, but the man waved him down.
"Nah, it's no problem. Won't take more than an hour, maybe." He pointed up the corridor, looking at Chris and adopting a no-nonsense tone of voice. "You really can't stay here though, go to the waiting room at the front please. We'll be done shortly."
"Really, we'll be fine until later-"
"Do you want her fixed or not?" The grouchy man snapped, fixing Chris with a challenging, self-important glare. "I just offered to do it personally. Do you know who I am, boy?"
"Uh... Trevor?" Chris said hopefully, glancing at the name badge affixed to the employee's chest. He cringed inwardly at the older man's eyes; they seemed about ready to pop out of their sockets in outrage. But not a moment later, the man was cackling with laughter.
"Bahaha! A witty one, aren't you!" he guffawed, as he began to lead Holly away. "Go on, off with you! I'll have her fixed and ready lickety-split."
"R-right, uh... thanks." Chris mumbled defeatedly. He wouldn't be able to rescue Holly from being taken away. Holly realised it as well; she looked at Chris over her shoulder, mouthing a simple message:
Up to you now.
Chris nodded, following the pair of them so the man would think he was heading for the waiting room. When they disappeared behind another set of doors - Holly fabricating a story about how she came to fall over and damager her hand - Chris turned back and headed along their intended route. Without Holly there to guide him, he had no idea what he was actually looking for. She'd said temporary storage... He scanned the signage on the walls, looking for something that might qualify. It was all storage around here! Everything! Finding whatever he was looking for would take a while.
Chris quickened his pace to a trot, becoming increasingly anxious with every step. It was bad enough that he was here, unauthorised, in a facility of a company whose security force very nearly collared him for some sort of bizarre commercial espionage. Now on top of that, he couldn't find the persocom he was taking so much risk to save! The day could very well end with Titch destroyed and him behind bars.
Irrelevant rooms and areas passed him by again and again. Spare mechanicals for different model ranges. Component stores. Raw materials. Chemicals. Fabric and clothing. And much the same for equipment and tools. He was beginning to think the task would be impossible when he finally stumbled across a promising set of double doors labelled "Preprocessing".
The lights were on inside. Chris peered carefully through the glass windows, expecting to see racks of shelving. Instead, it appeared to be a sizeable waiting room of sorts; many people - no, persocoms - sat on chairs inside, patiently awaiting attention from the department, presumably for repairs. This had to be it. He studied the interior apprehensively.
There, perched on the edge of a human-sized seat, gazing forlornly at the far wall; a tiny persocom with a little bow in her deep red hair.
Chris placed a hand on the door, but the sound of fast-approaching voices stopped him short of pushing it open. He span around, looking for a place to hide, but it was a long, curved corridor - except for a windowless door on the adjacent wall there wasn't anywhere he could reach in time. Hoping there was nobody inside, he shouldered it open, almost blundering into an array of mops and brooms propped against the shelving filling the room. The interior appeared to be full of chemicals and cleaning equipment. Narrow but quite deep, there were plenty of objects he could get lost behind if anyone did try to come in here. Chris eased the door shut gently, listening to the voices as their conversation came into earshot.
"...it really is ridiculous, you know." a woman's voice huffed grumpily.
"I know. But how often does it happen, really? Once every few weeks, at the worst? And can you even remember the last time it was that bad? This is just a little hiccup, really." a male coworker maybe, apparently trying to placate her.
"As if that matters! It shouldn't happen at all! Why if I were in charge of Mechatronics-"
"Oho, here we go..."
"-I would make my staff do the checks before they ruined a production run!"
"Hindsight is a wonderful thing, isn't it?"
"You're such a wind-up merchant. Go on, go away."
"Huh? Aren't you coming? What're you going in there for?" the male voice said. Chris backed further into the room.
"Oh, yeah, sorry… one last job, high priority, only just came in. It's a sad one." the woman sighed.
"Oh no..."
"Yeah… got to take a little persocom apart. Isn't it awful? I hate doing that. I wonder what's wrong with it?"
No, no, no! Chris hurried back to the door, panicking. If he had just moved faster!
"Oh dear. Well, it can't be helped sometimes. Okay Angie, I'll catch you later then."
"See you at six, right?"
"Yep!"
Chris stared at the back of the door. This was it. He was missing his chance. They were taking Titch away right in front of him!
"Well, let's get this over with." the woman muttered. He heard the sound of the door to Preprocessing swinging open as she called out sweetly. "...Titch? Titch, is it? Are you here?"
Chris made to open the door but stopped before pulling the handle, struggling with the voices inside his head.
Do something, you idiot!
But what? What to do?
Maybe could he pretend to be someone of authority? Get her to drop everything for an important task? Angie... He knew her name from eavesdropping... that could lend weight to him playing the angry-manager-from-nowhere, maybe… but no, it almost certainly wouldn't work. Even if it could have, he wasn't confident or forceful enough... and what would he even say? He knew nothing of the Maintenance department's operations, it would be so unconvincing...
The tinkle of a tiny bell could be heard through the door. "Where are we going?" a little voice said.
"We've got some tests to do." the woman replied sadly, their conversation receding down the corridor.
"Will Chris be there? He's my friend and I'm worried. It was dark when I left him, he might bump into things."
"Oh… oh, sweetheart… I'm... sure you'll see him afterwards."
Chris stared hopelessly at the back of the storage room door, the little persocom's words digging a hole inside his chest. With Titch on her way to be decommissioned, his chance to save her was all but gone. That moment had been it; there wasn't another opportunity.
His lip curled into a silent snarl of anger. If he'd just got there quicker! More to the point, if he'd just kept a better eye on her in the bloody first place! He swung a fist at the wall in frustration. It connected with a crunch, and he jerked his hand back in shock at the cracking sensation that ran through his knuckles.
For the second time that day, all Chris could hear was the blaring of sirens. He stared in horror at the wall, and the fire alarm panel he had just smashed open. Fragments of emergency glass littered the floor where he stood. He grabbed one of the brooms and placed it among the glass, as if it had fallen over and struck the alarm. It didn't look very convincing, he thought.
Footsteps thumped rapidly back along the corridor, halting outside the door again.
"Okay, everyone out, please!" that Angie woman shouted, apparently shooing the persocoms out of Preprocessing. "Stay together and we'll return when this is over."
"Is this a drill, then?" one of the persocoms asked. They must be shuffling out of the room and into the hallway. Focusing so hard on what was going on out there, he barely noticed what his body was doing; almost as if he were witnessing someone else in third-person, he found himself stealthily opening the door.
In the corridor outside, Angie was preoccupied herding the persocoms from the other room. A little dumpy and middle-aged, she had a kind-looking face that would've put Chris at ease were it not for the circumstances. He padded across the tiled floor, sneaking up to the rear of the group as it formed. Standing behind the rearmost persocoms, he tried to adopt the indifferent demeanour they seemed to share. Attempting to impersonate a persocom… A distant part of him screamed that this was foolish and he should get out of sight, its urgency emphasised by the insistent noise of the fire alarm. He didn't even have the characteristic ears! Could he pass himself off as a model similar to the ones working behind the company reception desk?
Angie closed the door as the last occupant filtered out of preprocessing. Against the wailing of the alarm she loudly reeled off the company procedure for fire drills. "Okay, then. Okay. Let's see. We proceed to the fire alarm meeting point as designated for this zone, where you will await identification. Do not go to your departmental meeting points; go to that of the department you were presently scheduled to be in - in this case, maintenance. We will proceed at an orderly pace..."
She seemed to be reciting it for her own benefit rather than the persocoms gathered before her; Chris was sure they already knew exactly what to do. They listened politely nonetheless, until she finished speaking. With a self-satisfied nod she began to turn around.
In that split second Chris spotted Titch; having just clambered onto Angie's shoulder, she plopped herself onto her new perch and swept the assembled persocoms with her gaze. Chris quickly darted out of view behind the nearest persocom, but the sudden movement caught Angie's attention, and she peered towards the back of the crowd.
"Are you okay, back there?" she called out over the ringing alarms.
Chris froze. A few of the persocoms turned around to look at him. More than one looked a little surprised to see him standing there, but none of them said a word. Keeping his expression neutral under such scrutiny was taking extraordinary effort.
"Hello? Hey, you there!" Angie called, pointing over the heads of the crowd and leaning to get a better look at him.
Oh god, why do I have to be so bad at improvising?
Chris cleared his throat as quietly as he could. That could have given him away as human immediately, but the fire alarm provided enough cover. He'd have to alter his voice, in case Titch recognised him. Her bell was jingling, barely audible over all the noise; she was trying to see the mysterious persocom at the back of the group.
"I am fine." he called out blandly, trying as subtly as possible to keep out of Titch's line of sight. "S-Servos in my leg need some attention, that's all."
Was that the best he could come up with? Chris clamped his mouth shut. There was no response from the front of the crowd; nothing but the undulating racket of the fire alarm, and the sound of his heart pounding in his chest. More than half the persocoms were looking at him now. He strained to maintain his air of indifference, meeting their gaze in what he hoped appeared an expressionless manner. His jaw creaked in his ears, but he didn't dare unclench his teeth. If this didn't work...
"...I see." the woman said uncertainly, frowning. "Well, if you need assistance moving, speak up. That goes for anyone else as well." With that, she turned around and led the procession down the corridor. The onlookers turned away, following obediently, and Chris went with them, making sure to stay at the back and unable to believe his luck.
They marched down the corridor, apparently tracing a path back to the fire exit Chris and Holly had used before. The traffic nearer that fire exit had picked up considerably. Others were beginning to crowd the hallway now; a constant stream making its way from the maintenance department. Chris bowed his head slightly, hoping he wouldn't be challenged amidst all the bustle.
They travelled down the fire escape stairs without incident, heading on a path towards the exterior of the building. The dimly lit carpeted corridors of the lower level were much brighter now; apparently triggering a fire alarm cancelled the energy-saving measures for increased safety. He kept glancing over the bustle for glimpse of Titch, perched on that woman's shoulder. So close, and yet so far.
Suddenly the crowd ahead began to make noises. In an instant, every persocom in the crowd was guiding humans to either side of the corridor, urging them to make way. Chris backed towards the wall immediately, moments before a band of persocoms hurtled past at inhuman speed, heading back up the corridor towards maintenance with breathing apparatus, medical and firefighting equipment in their grasp. The persocoms in the crowd relaxed as soon as they passed, allowing everyone to continue along the corridor. Everyone chattered worriedly amongst themselves; this wasn't a drill, something was happening! The nervous fervour only made Chris feel more self-conscious. He began to wonder how the emergency response was coordinated in the building. There could be several teams on their way to the site of the alarm trigger. He began to feel nauseous. They'd find the broken alarm panel. They'd find the unconvincing broom on the floor. What if they-
A hand gripped his forearm, pulling him backwards.
Chris span around reflexively, barely holding in an involuntary shout. But instead of a security guard, he found himself face to face with Holly. She shot him an accusatory glare as he exhaled in relief.
"Could you not scare the shit out of me like that?" he whispered shakily, as loud as he dared in order to be heard over the fire alarm.
"What have you done?" she demanded quietly in reply, falling in step with him. Chris shrugged as if to say "what choice did I have?" and the persocom rolled her eyes.
"When I said 'up to you', I didn't mean this!" she hissed.
"I'm no good at improvising!" Chris shot back under his breath. "Besides it was an accident!"
"I can't compute how you could possibly trigger a building-wide fire alarm by accident!"
"Well I - wait, how did you even know this was me?"
"The stupid guilty look on your face!" she replied. "Speaking of which: cut it out!"
Chris nodded uneasily, trying to clear his expression. "So you lost the maintenance guy?"
"I said I wanted to check on you. Which didn't work, by the way... that man was stubborn as anything! So I waited until his back was turned and got lost in the crowd." she waved her other hand as if to indicate threading her way through lots of people, paying no attention to her damaged finger.
"Are you okay with that?" Chris asked, looking at it uneasily.
"It's nothing." Holly replied, dropping it out of sight. "Would have been nice not have wasted it, though."
Chris winced apologetically as daylight poured in from further up the corridor. They broke through into the atrium, teeming with employees and persocoms making their way straight across its wide expanse to the nearest fire exits dotted along the enormous outer wall. The fire alarm reverberated throughout the massive expanse, echoing off the huge surfaces containing it.
"You still look guilty as sin… stop it!" Holly hissed. Chris smoothed his face as best he could, indicating towards the woman several meters ahead now that they could see her clearly. Holly picked her out of the crowd, spotting Titch on her shoulder as well. She swore quietly to herself.
"I don't have a solution for this," she warned him.
"You don't have a solution for this yet… right?"
"...Sure."
As they were lead outside the building and away from the atrium's lighting systems, bright sunlight gave way to the day's genuine, depressing overcast grey. There the masses were forming up into groups, waiting for fire marshals to come round and confirm their attendance. Wind buffeted them there, its biting unpleasant chill amplifying the miserable atmosphere.
Chris watched Angie patrolling their group. Titch stood on her shoulder, balancing effortlessly as she watched the milling crowds with fascination. Her attention was elsewhere for the moment, but all the same… he slouched behind the persocoms in front. "Titch is going to spot us any second, all lined up like this! It'll blow our cover if she does!"
"She's already trying to reach us."
"Huh?"
"Now that we're out in the open her WiODA modem can reach any persocom within the crowd. She's trying to contact me."
Chris thought about it for a moment. "Perhaps we'd best say hello," he murmured, meeting her sidelong gaze.
"I agree," Holly replied, her eyes flashing subtly. On Angie's shoulder, Titch whipped her head round, looking straight in their direction. She gasped joyously, but any words of greeting died on her lips at a second rapid burst transmission from Holly. Instead her eyes flickered questioningly in response.
"That's right." Holly murmured, firing the last few packets of data home.
Titch stared at Angie in abject fear.
"Hmm? Is everything all right, dear?" Angie said kindly, glancing at her frightened passenger. Titch quickly looked away, nodding timidly and sitting down. "Good, good. Stay seated sweetie, I wouldn't want you to fall off and get lost out here. I'll keep a close eye on you though, don't you worry." The expression on Titch's face said she'd love nothing more than to bolt from her perch. At least she was aware, now. Chris silently praised the fact that persocoms didn't need networks to communicate directly at short range.
"Okay, then!" Angie called out, over the crowd of persocoms. "Our fire marshal will be here momentarily. To speed things up I'll ID you, okay?" she reached for something fastened to the belt on her hips Chris had been unable to see until now, producing a small electronic tool and proceeding to wave it over the persocoms in the front line.
"What is that thing?" Chris whispered. It beeped on different parts of each persocom's body; sometimes the arms, sometimes the stomach, or the neck or head. After each beep, Angie would glance at its little display before moving on.
"She's scanning our UUIDs so she can identify us. Many people in NEIS carry tools capable of doing that, and some persocoms can perform it too. It saves time for the fire marshals if they don't need to ID every persocom themselves; they can take the data from a whole group at a time. There's a similar procedure for taking attendance of humans."
"And the waving?"
"The transceivers are very short range. Like how you might tap a card to make a payment, or use public transport. We all have one on our bodies somewhere." Holly caught the look in his eyes. "I know. I'm trying to think of something. Whatever happens, just play along."
With a nod of satisfaction, Angie finished with the far end of the line, moving on to their own. Chris watched her approaching, brandishing her that little gadget. As Angie approached, he felt Holly's hand press gently into his lower back.
Angie stood before him, waving the multitool at his midriff. It beeped grudgingly, and she studied the contents on the screen. Chris bit his tongue, trying hard not to show any expression as he locked eyes with Titch. The little persocom looked like she yearned to leap across the small space between them. He shook his head ever so slightly in warning.
"That can't be right." Angie said, waving it at Chris again. Holly stiffened beside him, the hand pressed into his back shifting slightly. The multitool beeped again, and Angie stared at the screen in consternation.
"Maintenance? But you're…" she looked up at him, catching sight of his decidedly human ears. Her eyes narrowed in confusion.
"Oh, hey!" Titch gasped loudly, a huge smile creeping across face. "It feels like I haven't seen you in forever!" Chris stared at the little persocom, unsure how to react. "How was it today in maintenance? You must've been busy from that drama with the Spine, right?"
"Y-Yeah!" Chris said, trying not to wince at the pinch Holly delivered. "Very busy. Good to see you, though!"
"You're from maintenance?" Angie repeated.
"This persocom fixed me up once!" Titch prompted, with subtle emphasis. Lights danced behind her eyes while she talked; she was taking cues from Holly. "He's very nice."
"More of a check up, really," Chris blurted, hoping he didn't look like a deer in headlights. Angie seemed to accept this, though she looked a little perplexed.
"You're not outfitted like most persocoms in the department. Your ears-"
"He was transferred, as I recall. You were in marketing, right?" Titch said conversationally. She looked askance at the woman from maintenance, trying to see if the lie would take..
"They said I wasn't cheery enough." Chris added, nodding. Although he was deliberately not looking at her, he could sense the little smirk Holly wore just then.
"Hah, I see," Angie chuckled, "Well you can follow me after we deliver the others back into Preprocessing, then. I could do with some help on my last job, then I'll find a colleague to fix that leg for you before I leave. Seems fair, yes? Let's face it, there's hardly any point in following the list when it's this busy." she sighed.
"No problem," Chris mumbled, after an encouraging jab from Holly. She quickly withdrew her hand, presenting it to Angie as the woman went to scan her. The tool picked up a signal on her wrist, beeping contentedly. Angie studied the results and moved on. Titch gazed longingly back at the two of them as she was carried away.
"This might actually be ideal." Holly whispered. She seemed hopeful.
"This is far from ideal," Chris whispered back. "What just happened?"
"I've picked up a few UUIDs in my time here. That first one didn't work, but the second must have been for a maintenance model. She thinks you belong to her department now."
"That's not ideal at all! Now what am I supposed to do? Help her destroy Titch?"
"You don't understand. It doesn't look like we can separate her from Titch until she's on the operating table now. That means we need access to the maintenance facilities and we'll never get past the doors without Angie there to let one of us in." Holly looked at him. "That will be you."
"Then what?" Chris demanded quietly.
"We find a way to get her to leave the table, before..." Holly's voice trailed into silence. They stood there for a few moments, trying not to think about the consequences.
"She has somewhere to be in a few hours; I overheard her talking." Chris said.
"Excellent. Then you try to convince her to leave so you can do the work. I'll stay close as I am able."
More improvisation. Chris breathed deeply. This was exhausting! At this rate the stress was going to kill him before he could see this through. "Holly… you wouldn't happen to have a percentage in mind for how successful this plan will be... would you?"
"Don't be ridiculous." Holly murmured, looking away.