Four blocks of ice.
Katsura Sugita's eyes glazed while he absently watched his glass of iced tea sweating onto his desk. Water had already pooled up and down the length of glass, trickling into the newly damp ring that now stained the cedar desk in front of him. As thoughts rolled through his head, his eyes locked upon those blocks of ice, tensing as he did so. He saw his wife, his daughter; playing like a projection in his mind's eye, presenting his entire life in review.
His eyes narrowed as one of the cubes began to stir, like a dream.
The block of ice began to descend deeper into-
The door to Sugita's office swung open with the sickening squeal of bureaucratic impotence, forcing the visitor to grit his teeth as he stepped inside, "All this money and they can't replace those hinges."
Sugita shook his head, "I'm too busy picking other battles."
"Well here's another one, K," the man, Jeong, sighed before tossing a newspaper onto Katsura's desk and dropping into the office chair opposite his desk, "They're calling 'em death traps now. The headline?"
He sardonically raised his hands before parting them in mock presentation, "MEKA Program Kills Another; Health Department Calls MEKAs "Deathtraps"."
Jeong groaned before lowering his arms in time with his sinking deeper into the seat, right into the sunken cushion he'd worn out over the last year or two. He shut his eyes briefly in an attempt to calm himself, opening them again to examine Katsura pouring over the article.
"Oh, come on, K, there's nothing to glean from that," Jeong cautioned with a wary tone, "I'm your handler and even I didn't bother-"
"They spelled it wrong," Sugita murmured lowly under his breath, "It's Private Kwang-Hyok."
His military liaison watched him warily before sighing, Jeong pushing himself to his feet once again before stepping toward a nearby cabinet, "Look, K. I believe in what you're doing here."
Jeong began pulling out two whiskey glasses, readying a drink for the both of them as he went on, his lengthy dark hair brushed over his face as he leaned over.
"My son wouldn't be in the hospital right now if I didn't. I believe you're a fantastic scientist, and that Japan lost a great mind upon expelling you."
Katsura remain placid, unfazed by the military man's words. He simply stayed hunched in his chair clutching the newspaper.
"I also believe," Jeong noted plainly while bringing the two glasses to Katsura's desk, "that you suck at PR. Those MEKA units aren't going to help anybody if this keeps running in the tabloids."
Katsura gingerly laid the paper atop his desk before reaching for his drink, "What are you telling me, then? To stop?"
"No, of course not," Jeong groaned as he sunk into his seat once again, taking a swig of whiskey, "I'm just saying, maybe instead of fighting a war, fight a battle instead."
He leaned forward, "It's been eighteen months, and much of that was design and development. The papers said it was too much money to spend fighting Omnics when human hands have been adequate on their own. Then you began testing pilots, and these deaths began occurring. Now it's open season on this project, day in and day out. Maybe scaling it back and working on smaller things than 100% preparedness to sell to the public."
"Selling a weapon of war to the public?" Katsura wondered with a pithy voice.
Jeong aimed a finger at him, "That right there. These aren't weapons of war, they're vehicles of liberation against these Omnic intruders. It's all in how you word it, K."
Katsura shook his head, "Well if you need to vet any affidavits, I'm sure Tan can facilitate that. I'm too busy getting these machines off the ground to-"
"You're the face of this entire effort, K," Jeong asserted with an uncharacteristic heat in his tone, "A disgraced Japanese scientist and engineer brought to Korea with the sole purpose of creating a mechanical army to fight Omnics. The whole of Korea has its eyes on you, either praying for your success, or your imminent failure, whether you like it or not. Instead of constantly battling the military for every day you're given here- I'm just saying, having the public on your side would be a magnificent card in your hand."
Katsura groaned while rubbing his eyes, "I see what you're saying, Jeong. I just don't have the time."
Taking another swig, Jeong shrugged, "There might not be any time at all if things don't change. The military keeps sniffing down our necks now that you're putting soldiers in those MEKA units. The Congress can't go through a meeting without somebody questioning the efficacy of this project-"
He shot a glance toward Katsura, who had always carried a dour sort of look about him, though now he had retained a sort of crestfallen emptiness Jeong only rarely ever witnessed, ever since he had corrected the newspaper of his pilot's name.
"Ah, screw it," he offered with a sigh, signaling his giving up in deference to Katsura's waning mental health, "Damn bureaucrats couldn't build a mousetrap, much less a robot."
He gestured knowingly toward Sugita, sloshing his whiskey in his hand, "What do they know, eh?"
Lazily slumping deeper into his chair, Jeong took one final sip of his drink before resting his arm, shutting his eyes under Katsura's notice.
"Long night?" the scientist wondered.
Jeong ran a hand across his exasperated face, worn as it was beneath newly wrinkled skin, "Aren't they all."
He grumbled lowly, weighed by the constant stressors now imprinted onto his life, "Four more meetings today, three of those where I'm gonna get reamed over the phone; after action reports, somebody's gonna have to meet with Kwang-Hyok's next of kin, and-"
Noticing Katsura's continued lack of presence, Jeong massaged his face with a sigh, "You know what, we've liquor in our bodies now. Enough of all that."
He shuffled in his seat to find more comfort, pressing himself beyond the worn indention of the cushion, groaning with a languid sort of exhaustion before speaking up, "How's your girl?"
Katsura finally lit back up to life, however weak that light might have been after the previous year. He nursed his glass against his lips for another taste before answering.
"She's doing alright. Started high school in the fall."
Jeong nodded, "That's fantastic. I know she was struggling with assimilating to her school; how old is she now?"
"Eighteen last month."
"Better late than never, I suppose," Jeong offered with a softened smile, "Pan took forever, it seemed, to finally begin speaking when he was a kid. He'd always been quiet, never cried, it felt, but he was, like nine months old and never so much as a word."
Katsura barely hid a quiet chuckle, "I think that typically begins after a year."
Rubbing his tired face, Jeong muttered, "Shit, K, you know I can't keep track of all that. It felt like forever, though."
"How is he holding up?" inquired Katsura, sacrificing whatever lighthearted mood they had managed to salvage a second ago.
Sighing with a yearning hopefulness, Jeong explained, "Alright, so they say. All I can do is trust the surgeons."
His eyes lingered into space, "I went the other day and held his hand."
A momentary regret.
"Couldn't've been longer than a few minutes."
Katsura reverently turned his body away, his lips falling with regret that he had asked, though he offered weakly enough, "If you need time-"
"I'm your handler, K," Jeong shot back, a single eye watching the scientist as a smirk appeared upon his face before returning to his restful state, "I don't think you get a say."
Katsura felt a nice warmth within him at the joke, fraught as it was with the authoritarian zeal that kept him employed despite his blacklisting at the cost of his say in such things. At least Jeong was still able to revel in something as indelibly human as humor.
"My son wanted to be here," Jeong noted plainly, "He wanted to protect his home. That's what I'm doing, too."
He shrugged, "We just need to help you figure out how best to do it."
That warmth now replaced with guilt, Katsura felt his stomach drop at such an admission. That sentiment had been widespread when he had first arrived from Japan; his work was going to save Korea from the Omnics, his prior work having been no cause for alarm. They had said Japan hadn't the infrastructure or smarts to handle Katsura's intellect, but that Korea would so are no expense. As the months passed, more and more people began to opine what Katsura had already known: the government, the military, the common citizenry.
Katsura was no savior.
He glanced back toward the ice cubes atop his tea, unable to lose his intent gaze upon them for no discernable reason. He only felt some compulsion, as though it were a puzzle to be solved, and yet- they were simply ice cubes, floating, unbothered by that nausea-inducing feeling of sinking. of drowning. or being able to so surely find their next breath.
Perhaps that's why Katsura couldn't stop watching them float there.
His spell was broken, a knock at the door halting his labyrinthine twists of thought as Im Ja-Kyung, Jeong's administrative assistant, carefully pushed open the door, poking her head in with her furrowed brow already signaling the type of news she brought with her. Katsura frowned in response, though as if by telekinesis, or more likely by the fact that most news Ja-Kyung brought was bad news from either the government or military, Jeong shook his head without opening his eyes, muttering to counter her arrival.
"Five more minutes of peace," he groaned, pleading further, "Please."
With a timid voice that held more empathy than most on this project could muster by this point, Ja-Kyung bit her lip before countering, with a held-back sigh, "General Park is here…"
"Ah, fuck," Jeong groaned under his breath, leaning forward in his chair, "That's who's replacing the oversight comittee chair?"
Unable to conjure an adequately meditative reply, Ja-Kyung simply nodded.
"God damn. He's been trying to shutter this whole program for months, K," Jeong explained, met only by Katsura's biting answer.
"I know."
Jeong rubbed his face before removing his glasses to wipe their lenses clear of the stains that had settled upon them, gritting his teeth, "I'd hoped the Defense Ministry had more faith in us, but I suppose this means they're wanting results sooner than later."
He pushed himself to his feet before returning his glasses, "I'll go try and talk him down. explain what it is we're doing."
"Um…" muttered Ja-Kyung, her nerves palpable in the way she gripped her crosses arms, "He wants both of you. Jeong and the… He didn't say your name, sir."
Katsura gave a nod before grinning weakly, joining his handler after rounding his desk, the two men taking a moment to collect themselves before exiting. They both shared nods with Ja-Kyung, who could only barely return the gesture, saddled as she was by the gravity surrounding the entire project now that Park was here. Jeong pulled at his shirt to work out the wrinkles while the men strode through the warehouse, fidgeting with his hair, running a finger across his teeth as if to wipe away ant stains.
"You wanna prep our sales pitch?" he wondered beneath Katsura's aching stare.
He began with the lackadaisical tone of a man out of rehearsals by this point, biting his tongue before beginning, "The MEKA program is a means of ending the Ommic threat once and for all. By piloting these robotic vehicles, we will combine the might of machine with the reasoning of humankind; the strengths of both, and the weaknesses of neither."
"Good, good," Jeong quipped positively before spinning around to strut backwards, readying Katsura's worn tie mid-walk, "Don't forget to add the timeline. Slated for release next year."
He spun his lips, "...complications notwithstanding".
Clearing his throat, Jeong ran his wrist across his chin before reminding Katsura, "Park's a real ass, and he only responds favorably to people who match his energy, so if you can, you know-"
He shrugged while Katsura eyed him distantly, "You do realize who you're talking to, don't you?"
"Sadly," Jeong answered with a huff, "I'm just saying, if there was ever a time to tighten up your loins and dish out some shit, now would be the time. He's going to want to hear from you, directly, so I might can't intervene."
He bit his tongue, "I don't know, just- think about your daughter. That's why we're here doing this in the first place."
Katsura feigned calm while wincing internally, hating to combine the thought of his home and work growing intertwined. Still, Jeong had a point, he knew, though his placid exterior was difficult to change after many years of his heart being siphoned every which way. His manner remained unchanged as the two men strode toward the test floor of the hanger-turned-workshop where the latest MEKA unit stood, Captain Park meandering around its bulbous frame with seeming disgust. Jeong tugged at his collar one final time before a deep breath readied him for buttering up the visitor, Park's entourage of lieutenants keeping close to the man while scrutinizing the large machine themselves.
"General Park," Jeong spoke up with a deep bow, his placement within the military himself compelling him to subjugation.
The captain didn't bother eyeing him for even a second, his attention remaining narrow upon the MEKA unit's frame, choosing to speak up only to address the engineer, "You're the Jjokbari who piddled this thing together?"
Katsura couldn't help but tense at the slur, though kept his dour composure as he answered, "Yes, sir."
Park strode along, bending low to peer up into the MEKA's pilot cage, "What the fuck is this thing?"
"A MEKA unit," Katsura explained evenly, "M-E-K-A. We hope to build enough of these to construct an entire team of them: a mobile exo-force of the Korean army."
Park couldn't conceal a quick chortle, or more likely didn't care to, as he continued his examination, "I see… Who did you expect to facilitate this?"
Katsura glared at him with a quite seeth, forcing Jeong to jump in with a quickness to prevent something g untoward from being uttered, "Well, General, I suppose it would be you who we would humbly ask. After the proper precautions, of course; once we know what we have to offer is complete and a perfect reflection of our milit-"
"Enough of that incessense," Park growled lowly, peeking toward the two men from behind one of the MEKA unit's legs.
He bent low to clear the machine before stepping toward Katsura, brow curled forward in something hiding anger. He stopped there, the two men at equal height, though Park's outpouring of malice made him seem a foot taller beneath its heated radiance.
"I don't want to know about your future plans," Park nearly growled, his teeth showing behind a snarl, "I want to know why my government continues to pour money into this project when there's nothing to show for it. Nothing but prototypes and dead bodies."
He dug a thumb into his pronounced chest, "Why am I having to answer for your mistakes?! Why am I fielding questions about my immediate efficacy as Oversight Committee Chair?!"
General Park threw his thumb over his shoulder, "Why is my government wasting money on these death traps?!"
"Sir…" Jeong uttered timidly, immediately squashed by Park's near-ravenous stare.
"I want an explanation! Not an excuse, not a promise to answer later; I want to hear it from your foreign mouth!" Park demanded, his face reddening with every word now, "My predecessor allowed enough shit to leak through the cracks. I was brought in to ensure efficiency, not to be questioned about it!"
Katsura had remained stoic throughout the diatribe. He felt a certain amusement within him at the thought of this man abluster, trying desperately to get a rise out of a man who had nothing outside of his home. All Katsura had was his daughter, and beyond her sphere, his calloused heart broke for no one else, his spirit torn by nothing. Not because he felt not a thing for this man's tirade, but because, Katsura knew, there wasn't much of a spirit left within him.
"Mr. Park," Katsura began, a red hot rage immediately flushing the military man's face, the fact of Katsura Sugita being a civilian being the one single thread preventing him from striking him right then and there.
"The project began with one fundamental point of fact: the ultimate unreliability of artificial intelligence as we know it today. That was the most important thing I learned during my work in Japan, and never would I do any work without understanding that basic fact."
He stroked his chin, "At a basic level, AI has limits: limits of computing power, battery levels, so on. Now, as we see with the Omnics, self-sufficiency is as fundamental to the synthetic experience as it is to the biotic. They create ways to reduce those limits; they evolve, as artificially or naturally selected as you would like to see it. To be an artificially intelligence being made of non-organic material is not so unlike being a human, now."
As though this bored him, General Park frowned, "So? Get along with it."
Slightly offended by such a display of ignorance, Katsura pressed on, "To these means, it would be the height of irresponsibility, if not outright stupidity, to unleash a vehicle of war so thoroughly tied to warfare, without a guiding force."
A curious curling of forehead accompanied Park's sudden change in expression, "That stupid panel in there was for fitting a cockpit?"
Katsura nodded, "Yes. But as I just explained, self-sustainability has become innate to artificial life. Just as the earliest living creatures evolved antibodies to combat viral threats, so too have artificial beings- or rather, that's the next logical step."
He stepped toward the MEKA unit, Park's lower lip falling deeper into his mouth as he grew to realize what Katsura was getting at.
"No matter where we begin- even if we "birth" a new artificial system before testing, like humans, it recapitulates- it forms into one logical progression to the next logical progression. So far as we have observed, an artificial mind will always develop a sense of self, a consciousness, an understanding of its own insignificance, an idea of the spiritual, and, unfortunately, an immune system."
Jeong hung his head low in reverence toward his son, whose comatose mind came to his attention.
A crooked snarl hung onto Park's face as he muttered under his breath, "I thought your deaths were due to testing errors. Now you're telling me that you-"
He could finish his sentence, though luckily, Katsura was able to.
Without emotion, Katsura completed, "They all died within the MEKA, yes. Much like how our bodies are compelled to remove foreign bodies, so, too, do these machines ultimately feel compelled to fulfill the same survival mechanism."
"Barbarism…" Park accused quietly.
Katsura offered, "Nobody was forced. I'm fortunate to have met many with the same desire for peace as I do."
"They died for their country," Park seethed with a hatred, not so much for the death of soldiers, but that it was at a foreigner's behest, "What have you given?!"
Katsura lowered his head, an open hand pushing his glasses back against the bridge of his nose.
"More than you'll ever understand."
"I find that exceedingly difficult to believe!" barked the ruinous general, "Five, six- ten of my men may not mean much to you, Jjokbari, but to Korea, they-!"
"Seven."
Park halted his advance with a curious look on his face, Katsura's eyes now boring into his with an almost visually silent determination.
"Junior Enlisted Nae Chihu, 328 days ago. Junior Enlisted Um Kyu-Bong, 304 days. Junior Enlisted Maeng Song-Hun, 243 days. Junior Enlisted Myo Hae-Seong, 163 days. Junior Enlisted To Tae-Won, 152 days. Junior Enlisted Pang Min'gyu, 102 days."
His eyes darkened.
"Warrant officer Ch'oe Jeong. Thirty-six days ago."
The General's face trembled as though hiding his fury at being shown up in such a public way, though Katsura offered no quarter as he pressed, "Not a day goes by that I don't take stock of each and every soul which threatens to drown my own. Whatever weight you may think I carry around, you can increase it exponentially and it still wouldn't match my anguish."
Park watched him carefully, sizing him up from this new dynamic, leaving Katsura the chance to continue, "We need more time. lest the lives and health of those seven men and women should mean nothing."
"And what, exactly, am I waiting on?" Park demanded, his snarl losing a bit of its bite now.
Katsura nodded, "We've limited the progressive stages the AIs go through. It takes twelve to twenty seconds for the system to work its way toward that sentience now. If we can increase that time by another ten or so seconds, we can think about programmers working in tandem with the pilots via the cloud to reprogram the MEKA while it's working, essentially halting that progression in real time."
Park watched him critically for a few moments, though Katsura failed to flinch. The General snapped a finger over his shoulder, forcing a subordinate to quickly step to his side and holding up a briefcase which Park promptly popped open before rummaging through some papers.
"I'm returning to Seoul next week. I'll meet with my superiors," he paused as though to weigh the reactions of the two men behind the MEKA project, "and I'm looking into radically altering this project."
Jeong immediately begged, "But general!"
Barking to silence him, Park shouted in anger, "I'm not going to sacrifice lives just so this man can find some semblance of redemption! This is a wartime warehouse, not a church!"
He slammed shut the briefcase before turning to the men again, "We'll scale it back significantly. We've wasted enough money- it would look horrible to shutter it entirely".
Park's teeth shone barred, " Be thankful for being productive only in being a thorn in our side that we can't remove."
Katsura's eyes remained empty as Park spun away, stomping off back toward his helicopter alongside his entourage, leaving the two men without much in the way of words. They stood still until the copter took off, leaving Jeong to sigh, his hands stuffed into his pockets.
"To a T," he grumbled, "Told ya he was an ass. Now what? Back to the drawing board?"
Now removed from the general, Katsura dropped his head into a sigh while languid in his turn toward Jeong, "We haven't a choice. We put it out of our mind and try to do what we came here to do."
"Minna won't like the long hours, but I suppose if it's only a week," fretted Jeong tiredly, biting at his lip, "I'll see what all can't be expedited for another test or two. Worst comes to worse, we simply fall back into a closet somewhere."
Katsura eyed him sardonically, "I wouldn't take you as someone ready for that."
"Wouldn't be the first time," he chimed as he scratched his neck, turning to leave, "We're on borrowed time, now, K. Brainstorm a thing or two."
Katsura Sugita stood in place, watching his handler-turned-work-friend stroll deeper into the warehouse. He felt his legs weighed down, as though welded to the very floor below, forcing his aching inertia. Turning his head, he glanced upon his MEKA unit, eyes darkened by weakening expectation. How was he supposed to work, now?
His head lowered once again as he forced movement back toward his office.
Brainstorming.
He offered himself a chuckle at the thought. He was about brainstormed out.