Loading: COG_LOG_1194X/01/XX
(Several months before the introduction chapter, and before Derrick's arrival in the setting.)
A/N: THIS IS SKIPPABLE, the next chapter will continue the story.
The warehouse was sealed from every angle, stacked with shelves upon shelves of electronics and mechanical parts galore from parts unknown. For many of them, neither their age nor their origin could be determined, yet they were attended to, wiped down, lubricated or cleaned regularly in case the storekeeper could find a use for them.
On this Sunday, the only indication of a world beyond the walls were the high windows plastered with decals forbidding entry, lining the hexagonal walls under the ceiling and its stray wiring, powering the halogen lights. Baruch, the storekeeper, stood alone on a stepladder, hanging massive tapestries by their corners and painting the walls and sealing every crack in the concrete floor and corners. More than anything, the pressing need of the moment was to maintain appearances: apples no one would ever eat were placed over a narrow table in the middle, an analog clock no machine needed – their electronics tracked time more accurately and efficiently than any minute hand – was affixed over the counter, and chairs nobody would sit on were laid out in a row, with the names of their designated occupants written on them in advance.
In time, the five occupants arrived, and the storekeeper shut an enormous padlock with a key it could barely contain in its hands.. Varying in size, shape, and number of limbs, they stood over their respective seats, last of whom was the mayor: the bespectacled stubby Cog, shortest of them all stood between its similar-looking comrade with the clown nose, the heavyweight whose built-in typewriter quickly jumped out of an oversized compartment in its torso and began to crank the keyboard's power source.
The moment came to open the meeting, as soon as the Senator's typewriter held a sheet of paper and rang for the beginning of a new page. Its owner locked eyes with the storekeeper, quietly signaling the beginning of a stenography duel, determined to record every syllable of the coming exchange of voices. If the machines' synthesizers were to falter and glitch mid-speech, nobody was quite sure whether those incidents might end up on the transcript as well.
The keys ticked away furiously on both counts as Cog spoke. "In beginning this meeting, my fellow Machines, I am pleased to see that you have all taken the time to attend. The sound-proofing of this facility is more than suitable for the topic we are to discuss today. I must commend your effort and commitment to maintaining our council's privacy, Baruch."
The storekeeper, locking eyes with his co-duelist at the table, took a pause from furiously striking the keys on his typewriter. "It was the product of Fabricio and his master. We appreciate your gratitude," before resuming its typing twice as quickly.
"Sinclair, if you will, display the exhibit." Cog calmly adjusted its glasses and asked the machine in its front, a stack of loosely-attached torsos with a head standing on six arms, to produce a glowing orb from underneath its seat. Once on the table, a blackish-green orb caught the Senators' attention, with what seemed to be a gem wrapped in a membrane swimming in a pool of cytoplasm. "This encrypted machine core was recovered by a well-known merchant," Cog declared. "Emil of the Woods has been subpoeaned to testify at this hearing, however, he has not arrived."
The heavier one broke its focus from typing furiously away at its built-in typewriter, replacing the sheet, adjusting the ribbon and cranked before pounding the table. "Emil must be penalized! He has charged me a hefty sum for a faulty ribbon that blotted my pages!" and took out its anger on the keys to type up its own rant, punctuated with the sharp 'ding' of its typewriter. The other machines were captivated by its energy as it continued. "No contact information! No permanent location! How can we accept such-"
Immediately, a ribbon flew out of its inner compartment, and the spherical creature Emil produced another from its mouth, pushing it on the table with its tongue. "Right here on time, and it's free of charge this time, sir! I'll have string phones available next time you find me!"i
The five other machines, Baruch included, stared in awe at the sudden appearance in front of them. Emil rolled over the table, taking a bite of each apple laid out before the several Senators and the mayor. "Don't mind if I do," it chewed off a part of the fruit, "if I do... if I do... if I do aand if I do! Here to answer all your questions!" it rolled to the center, facing the mayor.
The storekeeper interrupted the senators' jumps out of their chairs and flinches as the creature rolled in and out of their personal space, chipping away at fruits. "That was meant to be decorative!"
"What's the harm in a few apples, Bar-bar? You know I'm your number-one delivery service!"
The storekeeper resumed typing down its transcript. "Can't argue, Emil. Can't argue."
Cog jumped on the table, demanding everyone's attention. "Emil. You have obtained an encrypted machine core from the corpse of Private Asimov of the Municipal Guard. Tell us of the circumstances surrounding Asimov's demise."
"It wasn't natural, I know that for real! Somebody had to have done all that stuff to him! They cut him in half!"
"Perhaps we should decrypt the core and mine it for useful data," the senator at the far end of the table suggested, "to obtain more reliable information than a feeble testimony."
Cog left no time for any other response before interjecting. "Gentlemen, machine cores are the most intimate and treasured element of a machine lifeform's consciousness. The precedent to be set by such an action for our colony's citizens would upend the social trust upon which the individuality, that each of us has developed through trial and error, relies."
"The androids' war effort are succeeding with new tactics in far-off regions!" the many-armed machine Sinclair sifted through piles upon piles of remote papers. "We've been living by ourselves, for ourselves for only a handful of years I can count on two of these hands since severing ourselves from the global machine network. Maybe it's time we all reconnect!"
"There is no need to surrender our individual minds to it once more, if we use our position to our advantage." Cog replied.
The sounds of the typewriters clickity-clacking reverberated oppressively through the warehouse.
Ding. Ding. The spherical creature found itself confronted with an evergrowing flood of questions, from most of he machines at the table. "Were you privy to the attacker's identity?" "What tactics did you use to recover the machine core?" "Can you tell us the exact date and time?"
"No… I don't know… stop asking me so many things at once!" the creature cried out.
"Was a sword used in the attack? Were any of your funds or supplies found at the scene?"
"N-no! I mean, yes, a sword, but why would I put my hard-earned G where-"
"You are contradicting yourself!" "He is contradicting himself!"
Increasingly absurd questions were being thrown out by the senators, culminating in "Would you have stopped it if you were able?" "Did you enable this attack to happen as part of a greater agenda? Are you conspiring against us, Emil?"
"Guys, I can't handle thiiiiiis! You're hurting me!"
Cog stepped up to the table, pounding it and demanding silence. "This will suffice. We have questioned Emil of the Woods enough for this hearing. What matters is that we develop an appropriate response to new threats of unknown capabilities. Clauswitz?"
The clown-nosed machine turned to look at Cog the mayor. "Yes, Mr. Mayor?"
"Do you have any feedback you wish to share? Your silence throughout this hearing leaves us curious."
"Mr. Mayor, I wish to suggest a compromise between your desire to retain our autonomy, and Sinclair's insight. We cannot remain isolated any longer from the wider machine network, yet we cannot connect ourselves to it."
"That is correct."
"We are in a most difficult situation," Clauswitz honked its nose, "that demands new measures . It would be prudent therefore, for you to establish joint training exercises for our security forces with the Machine Supply Union. Whoever is in charge of administrating them should receive an individual of your status more favorably than us. This Emil fellow must be investigated at once, however."
"Nooo! I'm good!"
"We will not entertain any accusations against Emil without sufficient evidence. I do not approve of this conduct, neither from Sinclair, nor from Latham or Clauswitz. You are dismissed, Emil..."
"Th-thanks, so much, Cog!" Emil beamed. "A-and in the meantime, I can even make up a little st-story for the kiddy machines and for everyone else, so that nobody has to worry 'till-"
"...until you meet me personally immediately after this hearing."
"Huh?! Cog, no..."
"I wish to thank you all for attending. Your input has been most valuable," it turned to the shopkeeper, "and your payment for a well-handled hearing is due after our regularly-scheduled maintenance session, Baruch."
The shopkeeper jumped in place in excitement. "All in a day's wo-"
Its typewriting competitor pressed a button, and announced its victory with a loud ding. "The transcript is complete, Mr. Mayor."
"Good work, Latham."
After the maintenance, the greasing of parts, the replacement of treaded foot pads and scratched camera lenses, the machines had begun to vacate the warehouse, leaving only its storekeeper, who awaited the exit of the mayor and the creature at last.
"Asimov will be recovered to the best of my ability," the storekeeper promised. "If the core is intact, fragments of his memory may be intact."
The master craftsman outside begged to shake hands with each Senator as they exited, even offering to shake each of Sinclair's hands, dirty as they might be compared to the rest. Following it was Cog the mayor, carrying Emil in its arms. With a polite head nod, Cog declined to drop its acquaintance on the ground and scurried over across the smokestacks and chimneys of the colony to its private residence. The two trudged along a narrow, winding road out to a gated building, outwardly not much different from the others.
Upon swiping its hand across a lock, a quick exchange of cryptographic keys took place, and the door was unlocked.
"Wow, Cog! Is this your study? You've got soo many books!"
"Do not be overly impressed, Emil. I have hardly had the time to integrate all this data, especially from such an inefficient format as visually represented text. I have merely completed one point five percent of this compilation of literature."
"Where are all of them from? They all have such different covers. This one's got a face on it and-"
"For your safety, Emil, do not under any circumstances touch that one. It is a reproduction of a tome containing certain powerful sealed verses."
"Sealed… verses, huh. Can't remember where I heard that one," the sapient sphere twitched and spun, briefly overwhelming the stubby machine with speed before surging out of its mechanical arms' tight grip. "The frisbees I brought last week! How'd all of them end up on that needle? I didn't know you liked collecting them that much! Which-"ii
"Your undivided attention is greatly needed, Emil, as I wish to seclude myself in private with you to ensure that you answer my inquiries in a safe environment."
"Right, right. Lots of questions. I-I'm glad you stood up for me earlier, Cog, you know?"
"It was necessary, Emil. Needless infighting is the bane of leadership."
"That's deep… you're always smart, Cog."
The machine stood on a chair, before its desk and moved a globe, and a stack of leatherbound volumes aside along with a hardcover made of scrap metal, a pair of diskettes and plug-in chips to the side. It picked up a piece of chalk from a drawer, and inscribed a circle on the desk. "Emil. Please rest on this designated area."
"You're testing my movement precision? Woooo!" the creatured rolled over the curved wall, rode upwards over the ceiling, rolling and stopping flatly over the chalk shape, and falling into the center with a plop. "Slam dunk!"
"Well done, Emil. If you would be so kind as to describe to me in detail the events leading up to Asimov's death, so that we may better prepare for similar occurences in the feature, it would much appreciated."
"I didn't really see much, to be honest. All I know is that I heard some footsteps, I heard a loud bang, a crackling sound and came out of my hideout. At first, I thought it might be a moose, or a wild deer that rammed into some machine on its way to find me and thought I'd pacify it with some animal bait. The first thing I did was recover the core before looking at anything else, so I had to bite it off."
"You have done well, Emil. Were you able to identify the party responsible?"
"I heard somebody, like a human running, but that's it. Or how I remember people sounding when they ran."
"An android's involvement must be supposed then, knowing as I am informed that humans reside on the lunar surface."
"That's a bit hard to believe, that they all went to the moon. I've never seen this sort of thing happen to the colony, Cog…"
"You have done enough for us today, Emil of the Woods. It is time for you to return to your business," the machine opened a drawer as its associate rolled out of the circle symbol. Before it could reach for the chalk eraser and typewriter inside, "I must take notes on this matter now." Emil noticed a photograph within. "H-hey! I know that! That's one of the alien spacecrafts I remember… I've been inside one, a very very long time ago…"
Cog's eyes flashed a shade of white, before turning back to green. "You have piqued my interest, Emil." it reached with all three fingers of its hand inside and pulled out the photograph in question, holding it up in front of Emil. "Are you familiar with the materials and components in this craft?"
"Y-yeah, I kind of am! I don't remember much, but… it was a very long time ago, when I was with all my brothers-my clones, I mean. We were trying to fight them together, but they kept retreating back into their saucers. It's like… they moved like vines or like plants, shooting roots into the ground in one place, severing them in another, and they all moved together at the same time. It's not like legs… they used to join their roots together to m-make baby aliens, or to sorta 'walk' together like it made them stronger-"
"Please focus," Cog held the photograph. "The extraterrestrial lifeforms that had begotten us Machine lifeforms are long gone. Focus, Emil, on the details of this craft. It would be of a great utility for you to tell me more of its logistics. If more time is available, I would like you to visit a recently-discovered one with me."
"I-it doesn't bring any good memories for me, Cog. I don't want to relive those moments, I'm sorry!" the creature's voice cracked. "We used to wipe them all out, and then they'd come back somehow. Me and my clones, we all wondered how or why and we even thought they might really be a new breed of trees. But they kidnapped me on one of their crafts and started trying to build new copies of my head, I think... then I escaped, but… there was something in there, maybe a few buttons they used…"
"Could you infer the nature and goal of these activities? What is the equipment in this photograph able to achieve? Is there a life support system, as I understand it?"
"P-probably, but they look like they're dead in your picture. Those weird buttons on the side, they could open a portal or something…" Emil watched Cog pull out a sheet of paper and scribbling rapidly with a fountain pen, before the former continued. "I could see another world, all rocky. Like a giganic ant farm, and more aliens kept coming out of that portal and coming down to earth."
"Please stay with me for a moment," Cog politely requested before taking the time to scribble down further notes, and filling a second sheet with more.
"Huh?"
"Bear with me."
After finishing its note-taking, Cog concluded. "Emil of the Woods. What you have described is quite possibly one of the greatest breakthroughs I may ever discover. My debt of gratitude to you is immeasurable."
"Will this save Asimov? O-or help get the 'united supply machine' guys on your side to protect you?"
"Far more than that, Emil. We may discover the most efficient transportation method Machine lifeforms have ever used. We may become soon able to overcome any and all obstacles to trade, diplomacy and logistics that the 14th Android War poses, without yielding neither to the Human forces, nor to the global machine network."
"W-wow, Cog! This rocks! Am I gonna be rich, too?!
"..."
"H-hey, promise me one thing at least: you'll play with those frisbees, right? You're not just gonna let them gather dust in here now that I helped you, alright? You're gonna let others play with them?"
"As you wish, Emil. I will 'play' with the 'frisbee' discs."
iChapter 8.
iiChapter 20.
