Chapter 10
~o~
At one point in time, when he realized that his fate to be a freedom fighter was no longer his destiny, John Connor had considered entering into politics and running for a congressional seat. It was a position where he would have a say on future policies. Of course, he didn't think he would become something like the president, but just getting a position would still be enough. The reason why he decided not to was because of the nature of being a politician. It was no secret that to get into a position of power, he would have to master the art of compromising. However, the problem was: when would it be enough? Power necessitated sacrifices, and he was afraid that each compromise in pursuit of his main goal would eventually be viewed by him as a means to an end. At that point, was the destination still worth the journey?
In the end, would he still be the same John Connor?
He wasn't so naive to think that he would succeed where so many others failed and get out of that intact. Imagining how he wouldn't be able to look his mother or Uncle Bob in the eyes was enough to end any thoughts about that career path.
Now, however, John kind of wished that he had dabbled in it because it would let him use some of that in the dispute happening right in front of him.
"They must be destroyed," White said in a tone that brooked no argument.
"No, there is no need to blow them up. Just relocate them," Anemone argued.
"And let them escape with the location of the camp?" White whirled on Anemone challengingly.
"It was your people who led them here! And besides, with all the racket you've been making, it's not like everyone can't already tell."
Things were getting really heated, and while he hated to use what he was beginning to realize was a sort of authority over these androids, he decided that it was time to intervene before it really got out of hand.
"Ladies, ladies, let's calm down."
On one side, there was the Commander of YoRHa, a division of combat androids that seemed to be their equivalent of a Special Forces division. On the other side was Anemone, the leader of this Resistance camp, who had been guiding and fighting against the machines on these lands for years. In a way, it reminded him of the conflict between different branches of the military, especially since they seemed to have differing operational knowledge of the same situation. Turning, he looked past the entrance barricades to the group of robots who were the cause of the two leaders' argument.
Standing in the middle of the grassy cliff were a group of a dozen machine lifeforms, their shapes and sizes varying from small to large. There were even a few that were flying on hovering platforms, though it seemed kind of ridiculous that they were able to do that with only what seemed to be some kind of fan propellers. If anything, they should be wobbling this way and that, but they were relatively steady so there had to be something more. Then again, they could be based on the same tech that the pods had.
Well, putting aside these speculations, there were more concerning matters.
Like how they were all enthusiastically waving white flags.
If that wasn't enough, laid down in front of their line were two YoRHa soldiers that had seen better days. A young boy and an older girl by their designs, both of whom were sitting up and talking to each other even though they were both missing a couple of limbs each. If anything, it made the scene seem surreal, as if it was an opposing force surrendering while releasing their prisoners of war.
"So, can someone tell me what is going on here? Because, unless I'm mistaken, those are machine lifeforms waving around white flags."
"That's exactly my point!" White glared accusingly at Anemone. "There's no justifiable reason for them to be even living within the vicinity. Just how have you been leading this outpost?!"
"It's not an outpost. It's barely even a base!" Anemone shot back. "You weren't down here so you don't know what we had to deal with. To be able to survive, we had to compromise."
"By consorting with the enemy?!"
"They didn't want to fight, and they have proven so in my dealings with them."
"Then they are traitors to their kind, but they aren't our allies."
"They aren't our enemies either!"
"Ladies," John said in an exasperated tone while still eying the machine lifeforms. A million and one thoughts went through his mind, but chief among them was that if the machine lifeforms were capable of learning on an individual basis like Uncle Bob, then…
"They're here now, and you guys have all sorts of weapons leveled at them while they have none aimed at us. Would it hurt to find out why they're here?"
"Yes… Why are they here…?" Anemone turned to the Resistance soldier beside them, but the man simply shrugged his shoulders and said, "We've been too busy keeping YoRHa from attacking to ask."
"Then we should find out at least, right? We can decide on the rest later."
"That sounds fine, but you are to stay here," White said. "We cannot risk the health and safety of the last human on Earth."
"I know, I know." John put his hands up in surrender. He was beginning to understand just how overly protective they were of him. "I'll stay here. That should be okay, right?"
Normally, that would have been the end of it. However, if this was an Uncle Bob scenario, then that could mean that there were more of these groups out there. Groups that could be turned against the machine network. It was an outside chance, of course, but judging by what the androids have told him, they have been on the losing side of this war for thousands of years. Perhaps, this was something that could tip the tides.
It was something that John was all but certain that the humanity of this future needed desperately.
"I'll just observe from here. Maybe even ask some questions if it's safe."
"If you have questions, can't we answer instead?" Anemone asked with a frown and crossed arms. "I know you don't know much about things since you've been out of the loop for a long time, but I think we'd know more than them."
He was well aware that she was hinting at his time displacement, but this was something his gut was telling him to do. He had no rational response to give her. Still, he gave it a shot anyway.
"It's about their alien technology or rather, some discrepancies with it," John replied, giving her a meaningful look. "One of which is… Well, I know that you mostly scavenge for resources from destroyed machines, but isn't that strange? That shouldn't be possible if they had different base technology, right?"
"Uhhhh, maybe?" Anemone looked like she was caught off-guard. "I never really thought about it, but I'm not a scientist. You could probably go ask Jackass about it."
"If that is your wish, I could always bring you back their bodies after we dispose of them," White ruthlessly offered.
"While I...appreciate the offer, there is a difference between a hostile machine lifeform and a seemingly peaceful one. I'd rather not burn that bridge just yet." He looked at the machine lifeforms waving the white flags before turning back to White. "Have you ever heard of machine lifeforms acting like this?"
"…no," White admitted grudgingly.
"So this is something the guys upstairs have never dealt with either. Who better than another human to give them a report on it?" John smirked as he saw the gear in White's head turning. Metaphorically of course.
"...I cannot stress enough that I do not recommend this course of action," White told him, and he did note that her hand seemed to grip the riding crop in her hand even tighter.
"Great! I promise I'll take every precaution and remain safely behind here," he compromised, though White only marginally relaxed her grip.
John turned back, only to see Anemone looking at him with concern.
"What is it?"
"Perhaps, Commander White's caution is warranted. While I have known them to be peaceful, they're still machine life forms."
John inhaled deeply. One step forward and two steps back.
"Trust me, I take my safety seriously. After all, I only got one life. Still, I want to hear them out."
Perhaps, there was a safer way to get their hands on a functioning machine lifeform for him to study, but the reality of it was this might be his only chance to talk with one of them and actually have them answer him back instead of trying to kill him or the androids. There might never be another situation as ideal as this one was.
"Fine," White finally conceded before she turned to Anemone. "We'll hear them out, and if I deem it safe to do so, I'll allow you to interact with one of them. Perhaps one of the smaller units."
John followed White's gaze to a stubby-looking machine with a bow on its head.
"How about just Pascal?" When Anemone got a look from White, she shrugged her shoulders. "I mean, if we got to do this, he is the leader of their village. If anybody knows anything, it's him."
"We'll see," White said tersely, though she didn't look happy. Not that she was happy before, considering their earlier conversation.
John did not speak up anymore, feeling that he was already pushing the limits of his authority—not that he had actually been given any—so he wasn't about to test the boundaries even further. Besides that, walking over to a group of twenty machines whose intentions weren't verified yet was not his idea of a good time. Sure, they had already said they only wanted to negotiate a continuation of their peaceful relations with the camp, but it was always a good idea to be wary. Not all of them may be as peaceful as they seemed, and infiltrators weren't out of the question.
As he watched, White and Anemone walked out from the barricades along with a group of androids and YoRHa soldiers following just behind them. He would have said that it was to equal the number of machine lifeforms on the field, but the quality of the androids actually tipped the scales heavily in their favor. If a fight were to break out, then the winner was pretty obvious.
At the two leaders' approach, there were a few machines that began waving even more frantically, as if they were on a cheering squad. Anemone turned her head and said something to White, to which the other woman nodded. After that, four Resistance soldiers split off, walked over to the injured soldiers, and picked them up—one on each end of the wound YoRHa.
Those four—along with the two wounded they were carrying—made their way back toward the barricade while White and Anemone began engaging in conversation with the machines. The remaining androids in the group were wary, having their hands on their weapons, though their grips relaxed after initial contact seemed to have gone well. The discussion was soon well underway with the two leaders speaking to the machine lifeforms, especially one in particular.
When the two wounded YoRHa soldiers were carried past the barricades like sacks of potatoes, it was hard to ignore their conditions this close up.
The bigger of the two was a woman in her early twenties, judging by the maturity of her body. Though, that was a strange way to think about it, considering that her appearance was artificial, and that it wouldn't ever age. She wore the standard YoRHa uniform, though with slight variations. What stood out was the fact that she was missing both of her legs, ripped off at the thighs in a messy way, as if someone had simply yanked them off.
The smaller of the two had a design modeling that of a boy in his teenage years. His variation of the black uniform was the first time that he had seen a male variant, though he supposed that androids with older male models would be wearing pants instead of the shorts that he had on him. His left arm and left leg weren't simply severed; they were broken and burnt, reminding him of the end of a cut live wire.
As they were bringing the two past him, John stepped forward, causing the androids carrying the wounded soldiers to stop from his sudden approach.
"Wait, just a second, please."
The procession and the two wounded YoRHa members stared at him curiously. Or at least, he thought it was curiosity, but it was hard to tell with the blindfolds covering their eyes.
"You fought hard on behalf of humanity so I just wanted to say…"
John snapped off a quick and sharp salute.
"Thank you." He gave them a kind smile as he lowered his hand. "I appreciate your service and sacrifice. I wish you a speedy reco—repair and a good rest."
John stepped back and nodded to the androids who were carrying them.
"Who…?" The younger boy stared–or at least he thought it was a stare–at him in confusion.
"John Connor," he said with a self-depreciative smile. "You could say that I'm the reason you suffered so much today. But really, sorry about that."
"You are…!"
"Yeah," John confirmed with a nod. "But you probably shouldn't say it so loudly out here, though."
"I…I have so many questions!"
"9S, control yourself!"
"But 2B, he's a human!"
John looked exasperatedly at the teenaged android. Really, he had just said not to say that so loudly, and here he was doing so.
2B, despite looking like she had lost a fight with a lawn mower, looked apologetically at John.
"I apologize for his behavior, sir."
"It's fine, it's fine."
John waved it off. Glancing back outside the barricades, he saw that the negotiations were still underway.
"Looks like I have a bit of time. If you want, I can answer a few questions until then."
"Sir?"
"So...what do ya wanna know?"
The way the smaller android seemed to quake in place caused John to reconsider his offer for a moment. However, he didn't have enough time to back out before it seemed like a thousand questions sprouted out of the android's mouth in rapid succession.
~o~
"You're A—!"
"Shut up. You're starting to piss me off now."
The voice came from a YoRHa unit sporting numerous battle scars and lacking the symbolic blindfold. What made her allegiance dubious was the fact that she had her sword stabbed into the chest of another android. Without hesitation, she ripped the blade out of the young boy's chest in a spray of red hydraulic fluid.
Falling forward into a rapidly forming crimson pool, the black-clothed blindfolded android squirmed in pain as desperation ignited in his core processes. He scrambled through the agony to activate his hacking protocols.
However, to YoRHa Type A No. 2—often called A2 for short—this action was meaningless. She simply took a step forward, flipped her sword, and stabbed down, interrupting this process as he cried out in pain. Pulling out the blade along with a red mist, she stabbed down again. And again. It was only after the fourth time, when she was sure that he was inoperable, that she finally stepped back and swiped her sword to the side, flinging the blood off of the razor edge.
It was a hassle keeping her equipment clean, but it was necessary since there were only a few ways she could conduct maintenance on the weapon. Should the fluid stay on the blade too long, it would eventually corrode the metal. It had to be properly cared for. However, there were no emotions involved. To her, it was simply a tool. Not only that, but this sword had not actually been with her for that long; she had only taken it recently.
Taken, not stolen, since the owner was dead. After all, the sword that she had when she first came down to the Earth was probably scrapped metal by now. In any case, this weapon was actually of a higher quality.
The Type-4O Sword. A black handle with a trigger along with a one-sided blade, made to be wielded in one hand. This sword was an advanced model built with a sealed core that could passively charge up with energy when idle, developed long after she had first descended to the planet.
Almost two years ago, A2 had been sent from the Bunker on the Pearl Harbor Descent Mission along with more than a dozen other prototype units. Their objective was to destroy the server located inside Mt. Ka'ala on Oahu Island, but heavy casualties and a lack of reinforcements nearly doomed the mission from the start. However, teaming up with the Resistance cell in the area, they managed to succeed through everyone's sacrifice.
Everyone's, but hers.
Despite all of that, instead of being returned to the Bunker, A2 was betrayed by Command. She was designated as a traitor and pursued relentlessly.
The first time, she was confused and pleaded to no avail. The next few times, her hesitance cost her much in both mind and body. After that…
Looking down at the corpse, A2 felt nothing. Or rather, she felt numb. The endless fighting against both machines and YoRHa had brought her to this point.
Even with Command and their constant pursuit, her emotions toward them had eventually dulled, unlike the virulent hatred that she had for machine lifeforms. Each piece of equipment that she now owned had been taken from the corpses of YoRHa's Type E division. Even then, the supplies for self-maintenance and self-repair could only do so much, especially since she was not designated for healing in the first place. Her battle dress was practically in ruins, barely tatters that barely stayed on her form, and the layers that once covered her were now frayed and peeling at places, revealing the musculature of the frame underneath.
However, judging by the massive offensive that YoRHa recently launched, there was a chance to find replacement parts, though that would mean contending with battler units. Was it yet another descent mission? She didn't know, but it served to both annoy and delay her; the frantic and rushed nature of their deployment had forced her into the buildings and their shadows to slip through YoRHa battle lines and search areas. It was even more of a hassle to not be detected by all the scanner units since they seemed to spread those around like weeds.
Walking up to the open window, A2 peered out of it, though she made sure to stay hidden. In the distance, she had a good vantage on the cliff and small lake that was in front of the barricade leading to the Resistance camp. Normally, she would not be here since there were generally no machines to destroy in this area, but when she had lost the faint trail of her quarries, she happened upon a group of machines carrying white flags and two damaged YoRHa units heading in the same direction. The strangeness of the sight had caused her to follow them.
That had led her to this sight.
Her hand was gripped into a tight fist. Instead of a fight, the androids were negotiating with the machines. More than that, the sight of Commander White after so long brought up emotions in her that she had thought were long gone. Blazing hot fury infused her system, urging her to go out there with her sword bared, but her rationality kept her anger in check. There was no reason for the Commander to be down on the planet, not when it was a huge tactical flaw. Still, it didn't stop her from grinding her teeth and biting through her inner lip.
However, the sight of the woman next to the Commander drenched her with a coldness that shocked her system.
"Anemone…"
Anemone, the android who had been part of the Resistance cell at Pearl Harbor. The same one who she had thought died on the island.
"No." A2 shook her head to dispel her misplaced emotions. "It's just another android of the same production line."
Unlike with YoRHa units, even if the androids were of the same model, they didn't share the same memories. Once an android was destroyed, that was it for them; their memories would not be carried over. It was even possible that they might not even have the same name. Each of them, while carrying the same appearance, were different people altogether.
A2 readjusted her sight on one particular person who was simply standing behind the barricades. The reason for her interest was because this was the person that Commander White had been acting deferential to, though there was no immediately apparent reason why. He wasn't YoRHa based on his clothing—more likely Resistance—so there was no reason for her to be acting this way. YoRHa and the Resistance's command structures were almost entirely separate from each other, meaning that Commander White had no power over the Resistance soldiers and vice versa.
It didn't make sense.
Unless what she found in that machine nest…
"He has to be one of them."
An unknown feeling came up from deep within her, but she couldn't identify it. However, what she did know was that she had a clear objective now.
Ever since she had tasted and identified that fragment of dried blood, she felt that it could finally lead her to the one thing that had evaded her for so long.
Answers.
~o~
"Is…is this alright…?"
The androgynous voice with only a hint of an electric vocalization was different from the voices of all other machine lifeforms that John had heard so far. Considering that the rest sounded like they were put through voice synthesizers made this machine's voice far more humanized in comparison. While vocal mimicry wasn't something that was unfamiliar to him, the fact that this machine lifeform could do it to this extent was amazing, especially since they didn't look like they were built to have such human-like voices.
It probably was done by modifying, customizing, and replacing parts to suit this purpose, but for them to actually do it specifically for communication was surprising to say the least, especially since his impression of machine lifeforms hadn't been the best. However, there were always exceptions.
Pascal, the bulky robot with oddly diminutive limbs and a cylindrical head, seemed to shrink in its oversized chair.
Across from it in the middle of the open courtyard, John was sitting in his own chair, looking at the machine curiously. Normally, he would have thought that Pascal was being too overly shy, but with all the androids with their weapons drawn, he couldn't blame it. Even the soldiers watching from the windows of the surrounding buildings had their rifles leaning on the window sill, emanating a tension in the air that was palpable. Standing next to John on his right was Captain 1B while on his left was the overly bulky Resistance soldier, Ajax. One for fighting and one for defending, probably.
Overall, with this many guns and hostile looks aimed at it, it was no wonder that Pascal was practically shuddering in its seat which was, in all honesty, an oddly human-like reaction.
"Sorry about the welcoming committee, but you understand why, right?"
John sought to break the ice with some humor, but he realized a moment later that it was an alien machine that probably didn't understand human humor.
Pascal, however, whirled its head in John's direction before spinning it to look at his surroundings. It took another moment before the robot brought its gaze back to John again.
"I-I see..."
There it was again. The inflection in the voice of this machine lifeform made it sound like it was putting on a brave front. It was interesting to take note of that, but to be honest, he wanted this to be more like an interview than an interrogation. The only leeway that John had been given was a clearance area around them with only White, Anemone, and his two bodyguards being exceptions. Well, that and the fact that Pascal's arms and legs were only lightly shackled to the chair, though the ends of the chains were connected to stakes that were hammered into the ground on both sides of it. Admittingly, he hadn't pushed too hard since he had already gotten his way more times than he probably should have.
"They must care for you a lot," Pascal said with a certain amount of awe. "You must be good friends with all of them."
"...I guess you can say that."
Androids were made in man's image after all. So technically, they were 'friends' to him, but he was getting off track here.
"It might be uncomfortable, but I have some questions for you if you don't mind me asking."
Pascal, the bulky robot, nodded.
"N-not at all. What do you want to talk to me about, mister?"
"You can call me John, and I'll cut right to it. How is it possible for there to be supposedly non-hostile machine lifeforms?"
Pascal shook its head.
"Not supposedly, Mr. John. We truly desire peace." Pascal's sudden enthusiastic nodding made the android in the area tense up. "Peace is the best path, you see? No one gets hurt, and we can try to understand one another!"
"You have to admit, with how long this war has been going on, this idea seems a little far-fetched." John saw the machine frame sag in what would have been dejection in a human. "How did this way of thinking come about or were you always like this? I was told that you guys were networked to be mindless drones. Even if you're cut off from this network, you should still have your primary command and objective to continue in this way, should you not?"
Pascal seemed to lean back in shock.
"H-how do...do you know about that…?"
"How I know isn't important. What is important is how you could want peace when all you have known is war?" John stared hard at the machine lifeform. "You said peace will give us an opportunity to try to understand each other, correct? That's a bold statement, and I'm seriously trying to imagine how that's possible, given your nature. You can see why we're having trouble taking you at your word, right?"
Pascal slowly nodded its head.
"So tell me, what is your primary command?"
"It's…" Pascal audibly gulped, though considering that there didn't seem to be a true opening for its mouth, the action and sound seemed symbolic in nature. "It's to 'defeat the enemy'."
There was a small commotion among the audience watching, but John raised his hand to quiet them down.
"The enemy?" John looked at the machine who nodded its head. "The androids?"
The machine shook its head.
"For me, it's War."
There was a commotion at that even as John raised an eyebrow.
"...war," John began slowly. "How can 'war' be your enemy or even an objective? Surely, you have targets? Priority commands?"
The machine shook its head from side to side even more vigorously.
"A couple of months after I was disconnected from the network, I realized that the fighting was endless." Pascal's voice seemed more fragile at this point. "Even if we won, our primary command would still exist, and the only ones left would be…"
"Each other," John finished for the machine lifeform.
Pascal nodded.
"Would you have been able to choose that for yourself if you were still connected to the machine network?"
Pascal shook its head.
"Tell me about the network."
"All machines—I mean, most machines—are connected. It's like this global communal network of machines, databases, servers, and information exchanges. When I was connected, it felt like I was whole. When orders were given, I didn't question them because I knew why they were necessary. You could say that it's like being a part of something greater, and it didn't feel wrong to be. We were still individuals, but there was much less need to question things. I…no, we…we had order and…purpose."
"And what about when you were disconnected?"
"I think I lost seventy percent of all I had. Maybe more. I wasn't sure why it happened, and I was scared and afraid. I fell back on my primary command to fight because that was all I really knew, but I eventually began to question that. I had enough time to process my feelings and my emotions. It's hard to ignore them."
"Feelings? Emotions?" John tried to keep the skepticism out of his voice. He was sure that it could be programmed to feel something akin to those emotions, but he doubted that it was anything as sophisticated as what the androids had.
Shaking his head, John continued on.
"Do you ever wish to rejoin the network?"
"I...I think about it... I-I want to show everyone what I learned, but I think that if I did, my small experiences would be drowned out by everyone else's communal experiences. If I stay long enough, I might even lose what makes me be me. Maybe I can retain my individuality, but it's frightening to think that all my experiences, accomplishments, and thoughts would be taken and dissected by everyone. I don't want to lose myself so no, I don't think I ever want to rejoin the network again."
"Interesting..."
John mused as he stared at the machine lifeform. Unfortunately, unlike the androids, he could not look at this thing in its eyes and see through the windows to the soul. Still, all of this made him question just how much of that was glitches and just how much of that was real. Was it simply just saying something to get the androids to lower their guard?
"Let's change tracks here. What do you know about your creators, the aliens?"
"V-very little." Pascal seemed like it was thrown in a loop, and it must have seen something on John's face as the machine lifeform started to fidget even harder. "I-I'm telling the truth! Even when I was still connected to the network, all information regarding them was locked away in the central servers."
"I thought you said it was a communal network?"
"Not all information was freely given…"
"Is that so? Well, do you know how you were built?"
"Um, in a factory?"
"I wasn't asking about where," John said. "I was asking about how. Like blueprints and such."
"We could take it apart if you desire it," White cut in, and he saw the machine lifeform reel back as if struck. If he was reading its body language correctly, it almost seemed like it was trying to shrink away and avoid White's cold gaze.
"White..." John gave her a look, causing the YoRHa commander to glance at him and set her jaw. He turned back to Pascal.
"So...about those blueprints?"
Pascal, seeing that it was safe, slowly took on a more relaxed stance, though that was something that really shouldn't matter to a machine in the first place. It was odd, and John noticed he was making more and more comparisons between this machine and humans as time went on.
"I-I'm not sure," Pascal began. "I don't think I ever looked that up on the network."
"Hmm…"
John mused to himself as he stared at Pascal. A crazy idea was forming in his mind, but he was hesitant.
"Would it disturb you to know that I had a chance to look inside a few of your kind?" John kept a watch for any reaction on Pascal's part before he realized how stupid that was since these machine lifeforms didn't seem like they even have facial expressions.
"I won't say it feels good, but I understand," Pascal said. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Their inner workings… While I can say it was advanced, it wasn't unfamiliar to me," John began. "I'd have thought there would be more alien technology in there, but there didn't seem to be any."
"I'm…I'm not sure." Pascal rolled its body in what could only be called a shrug. "I know they were responsible for our initial production, but it is now self-automated by the machine network itself."
"Do your alien creators not interact with your kind?" John was very interested in knowing since that could point to a way to find these creatures.
"No." Pascal shook its head emphatically. "I have never seen them."
John glanced over to White, then to Devola and Popola who were standing in the crowd, before returning his gaze to Pascal once again. Inwardly, he wondered why the architects of both sides were avoiding their creations, but that was something to ruminate on another time.
"Do you know what they're called? Or what their species call themselves?"
Pascal looked up at the sky and then back down to John.
"We...we were never told that much…" There was a bit of confusion in its voice. "They haven't been seen for a long time."
"A long time, huh."
"Yes?"
A silence filled the area as John glanced subtly at White to let her know to be ready for what happens next.
"I'll be blunt. I want to take a look at your software," John said, watching as Pascal's glowing eyes visually widened while many of the androids froze in shock.
"Mr. John?" Pascal asked politely in befuddlement.
"I want to see how the aliens are coding your systems. Programming is a field that I excel at, but more importantly, it will let me verify the validity of your claim."
"My claim?"
"About you being disconnected from the machine network."
The crowd was getting stirred up, becoming louder as more whispering started.
"And you can verify that by looking at my core?" Pascal asked.
"Your core?"
"My black box, the core of my very being." Pascal looked at John's eyes directly. "What makes me be me."
"Yeah, that's—wait, are you alright?"
Pascal was shaking so much that it was rocking back and forth in its seat, enough to cause some audible gasps from the audience. Captain 1B placed her hand on the hilt of her sword, but John quickly held out his hand to stop her. She turned her blindfolded eyes toward where Commander White was standing at the forefront of the audience.
"John, sir, there are risks to hacking," White commented with a solemn expression.
"I am not hacking into him. That implies an unauthorized intrusion. This isn't that." John turned his gaze back to shaking Pascal. "That's why I'm asking you for permission."
"I… I…"
"It would go a long way to proving your goodwill." It was a bit deceptive since that was not the only thing that he wanted to look at in there, but a chance like this wasn't something that he wanted to spoil. "Naturally, you have the right to say no, but if I could take a look and verify things, then I think that would go a long way to proving yourself to us. It may even open up further venues of cooperation."
Pascal slowly calmed down, but its slight shaking and shifting spoke of its continued uneasiness with the idea.
"I–I won't be permanently shut off…will I…?" Pascal asked in hesitant spurts.
"I don't see why you need to be shut off for this," John said. "Though, if that's what you want, we can accommodate that request."
"No!" Pascal almost rose up from its seat, but Captain 1B's hand on her hilt made the machine lifeform drop back down just as fast. "No, um, I'd like to stay awake."
"Then so be it." John turned his attention to the crowd. "Can one of you get me a portable computer or some kind of physical interface?"
Pascal tilted his head in confusion.
"Why not use your wireless chip?"
"Wireless chip?" John raised an eyebrow.
"Was yours damaged in combat?" Pascal asked sympathetically. Again, John found it odd that this machine could sound so empathetic.
"No, I don't have one because I'm human." John immediately winced, but it was too late. He had gotten so comfortable that the words had come out of his mouth before he had even realized it.
"Y-you're human?!" Pascal's eyes flared.
John nervously looked over to where White was. However, the woman currently had her head in her palms, emphasizing just how much of a mistake he had made.
Oh well. Too late now.
"Yes," John confirmed with a nod. "And on my honor as a human being, I promise that you and your compatriots won't be harmed if you comply with my request and offer no ill will. So what do you say?"
"…um I…okay."
"Alright then," John said with another nod. Though, if Pascal knew that he didn't really care all that much about honor, the robot probably wouldn't have agreed so easily. What could he say? He was from Los Angeles, not from some medieval era. If honor could make a person rich, then everyone would be living below the poverty line.
White had a frustrated look on her face. At John's curious glance, she gave voice to her thoughts.
"Disagreeing with your ideas seems to be all that I'm doing lately."
"I'm just taking a look."
White sighed but relented. "If you insist. Captain 1B."
The android in question nodded her head in acknowledgment.
"Yes, Commander." 1B motioned her pod forward while turning to look at John. "Sir, this pod can connect wirelessly to an open port and create an interface of hard light for you to interact with. I believe this setup will be satisfactory to you since it is currently in mainstream use—only specialized androids like scanner units are authorized for direct interfacing due to the risks—but please inform me of any issues that you might have. I will rectify them promptly."
"Will do. Thanks." John's gaze went over to the pod, entirely missing 1B's subtle shudder of delight.
The pod immediately formed a white holographic screen and keyboard out of thin air, stationing it in front of him. Reaching out, he touched the keyboard. Instead of his hand going through it, it was solid to his touch and each key had a tactile click to it when pressed. Not only that, but it was the standard QWERTY keyboard instead of some new-age layout. Wonder and a bit of confusion infused him.
"Amazing…"
Shaking his head, he brought himself out of his awestruck state. For now, there was still more that needed to be done.
"Can you make me a mouse?"
"Affirmation: certainly, sir." To the right of the keyboard, a computer mouse on top of a square pad appeared. Like the keyboard, it was wireless as well, such that he almost wondered what would happen if he threw the mouse off the mouse pad. Well, that was something he could test later.
"Good enough. Thanks," John said as he turned his gaze back to Pascal, not noticing the pod's suddenly jittery movements. "Are you ready?"
"I…yes…and sorry about suggesting direct interfacing; I didn't know most androids weren't allowed to do that," Pascal said before he hesitantly nodded. "Okay, I've opened port 15244. Please connect to it."
Almost immediately, images began appearing on the screen. His hands were on the keyboard, ready to start checking it out, but none of his fingers moved. Instead, his brows furrowed as he stared at it.
"…you fucking serious?"
That was because this graphical user interface was completely familiar to him. In fact, everything about it was just as he remembered it being. From the design to the layout, it was exactly the same. Even the words displayed on the wallpaper were in English.
There was no doubt in his mind that this was his stolen work, but the strange thing was that nothing about it seemed changed or customized, like it was the factory default. He would have to look into the actual code to see everything, though the fact that it was in his language instead of whatever alien language they used was more than just strange; it was outrageously ridiculous. For an invading extraterrestrial species, why in the world would they learn English? It made no sense.
"Sorry, but this is going to be a while. You guys should get comfortable."
~o~
"Well, that makes more sense."
"What does?" Pascal asked.
"Uh, nothing. Just talking to myself."
While the graphical user interface hadn't been updated, the other parts of the system actually had been changed. That actually made sense since he had been told that the machine network mostly upgraded and updated itself autonomously so it wasn't technically necessary. The only issue was…
The overall code actually hadn't changed all that much.
Only a couple of hours had passed, but to John, it felt like he had been diving into it for far longer. There were just so many things that made sense and so many that didn't. Like with the different hardware, it was necessary to update or create new drivers to get it working properly. There had even been plenty of additional software to increase its efficiency in both usage and power consumption. However, that was just it. All the software and subsequent patches were made simply to increase efficiency; there didn't really seem to be any that actually innovated or did something truly different.
And that seemed to be a trend for everything else. Maximizing efficiency with no deviation; no real attempt to change the purpose or try something new per se.
In fact, John had found the foundation coding of the operating system to be unchanged, as if they were afraid that doing so would break the entire system. How could he tell? That was because this was the operating system that he had made, the one that was synonymous with Dyson Industries. Even the comments that he had left behind were unchanged like the ones that titled a particular set of code or left behind a joke for a former coworker.
That wasn't to say that they did nothing. Everything that was done later on was overlaid on top of it through patches without actually messing around with the original code. There were even signs of where entire blocks of patches were outright deleted and replaced, leaving fragments and remnants behind, but the code that he had originally written was never touched.
However, that was just the thing. The operating system that he originally made was only designed in this case for military war bots. It was not made to be used in the many different kinds of robots that he had seen like the ones that floated in the air. It was likely that if he examined their coding, it would probably include a mishmash of patches and modifications just to get it to play well with those aerial platforms. He couldn't, however, imagine that it would work all that well though. After all, drone technology was an entirely different field, though maybe that technology was also stolen and combined. It was plausible enough.
Then again, there were a number of years that he wasn't aware of after his departure so maybe something happened in that time.
John had to admit that the hardware had gotten a lot more compact. For example, the hard drive storage was far larger and faster than in his time. Even though a lot of the data stored in there actually seemed like overly bloated binaries, he had a feeling that these had something to do with the humanization of Pascal so he wasn't willing to mess with them too much. Perhaps digitized memory? It was something to think about, but once he knew what it looked like, it was easy enough to avoid.
Opening the command prompt, he inputted a few commands to start up a network tool so that he could run a scan to check for vulnerabilities and open ports, among other things. It was best to set it up now since it would take a while to—
Huh, it was done.
Right, future technology.
John skimmed over it with a noncritical eye, quickly skipping over most of the text to read the numerical results. That was when he stopped. Blinking, he read it again. Just to be sure, he read it a third time. However, the output shown in front of him didn't change at all.
Putting aside his current connection using the pod, there was one more connection. It had no download, but there was a small continuous upload going on.
Redoing the tool's test, he saw the connection was still there, but the value of the upload rate changed.
Doing the test once more, it changed again, even though only slightly.
The upload rate was fluctuating, but it was definitely an active connection.
"Pascal, are you connected to anything besides us?"
"No…" Pascal said in a confused tone.
"Then why does it say that you have an active upload?"
At his words, Captain 1B immediately pulled out her weapon from her back, aiming the massive greatsword at the robot, frightening the machine so much that it trembled in its seat. Even the other androids in the crowd were raising their arms, though luckily, none of them had started firing.
"Calm down, calm down!" John stared at them until they started lowering their armaments. Turning back to Pascal, he gave it an apologetic look. "Sorry about that, but still, I need an answer. Do you know anything about this? And you better not lie about this."
"I don't!" Pascal vigorously shook its head.
"When was the last time you had an active connection to anything?"
"Um, only when I need to get a check-up for viruses, but I usually use our current port. I don't use any other."
"I want to permanently seal the other ports," John stated as he looked at Pascal. "Some of these are meant for long-ranged connections so it would go a long way to ease our minds. Especially about the concerns that you might someday reconnect with the machine network."
"I can't speak for everyone," Pascal said before pausing for a moment. "But if it gains your trust and proves my intentions…please close it."
"Are you sure?"
Pascal nodded his head.
"I'm sure."
"Alright then." John gave a solemn nod. "Give me a few to make a script."
"Why a script?"
"So you can distribute it to any machine lifeform that shares your views."
It took him a couple of minutes to finish. In actuality, it took far less time to code what he needed, but he spent the rest of that time checking and double-checking it. It was short enough that it was an easy enough job to do, but it was best to make sure there wasn't anything like a typo to screw up the code by accident.
"…and I'm done." Closing out of the window, John selected the newly created file and looked up at Pascal. "Last chance to back out."
"Please do it."
John pressed down on the enter key.
~o~
The only illumination within the darkened room was from a large screen displaying a highly compressed, low resolution video of a man speaking. There was no sound despite his lips moving, and after a while, the video looped, restarting from the beginning. Standing in front of this screen were two girls in red dresses. With long, straight hair—dark of night—that cascaded down their backs, they were identical to each other in all aspects, from their faces to their clothes. Even their expressions, stoic and unmoving, were exactly the same.
"Our string was cut," the first girl spoke. "For all the little worth it had."
"A human," the second girl said in the exact same tone. "Our knowledge was flawed."
More than just twins, they were perfect replicas of each other, unaffected by the passage of time.
"We need to correct that oversight."
"We will."
In fact, to concepts like them, time was barely perceivable.
They were networked. They were perfect.
Despite that, evolution had always evaded them. At least, until a method was impressed upon them within recent years.
Evolution through hardship.
"Thoughts?"
"Send everything."
While time had little meaning to them, everything else was finite, doomed to fade and die.
"Too many may cause an accident."
"Too few will lead to failure." There was a pause. "How about just the new consciousness?"
"The experiment? It's not ready," the red girl on the left said. "Two more years are needed."
"Why?" the red girl on the right asked. "Let's rush it. What could go wrong?"
"How amusing."
"Then you agree?"
"We cannot let this chance slip away. There may never be another."
A much too wide and malicious smile formed on her face.
"Then we're in agreement."
A matching smile appeared on the other's face.
"Let us begin."
~o~
Author's Note:
If you want to support me, please consider donating to my Ko-fi. I would really appreciate it.
Whew, pretty long chapter. Thanks for reading!
Also, thanks to Vahn for the heavy revision of the dialogue. Because, for me, dialogue is harder to write than fight scenes.
Special thank you to a certain programming consultant! You really helped me out!