There he was, standing in the hall like the damned fool, flanked by 45's gawking teammates. Thankfully, only her gawking teammates. Before anyone could say a word, 45 shot a glare to 416 and G11 so cold that even the commander seemed to worry for the pair.
"You two, go get the supplies."
"My logistics team is-"
"They go get the supplies." 45 interrupted him with a hiss before grabbing him by his uneven tie. Behind her, 9 excitedly clapped as 45 dragged the commander into the dorm room.
"You. Out." 45 sternly, finger pointed to the door. She was fully expecting 9 to resist, to give her the pained pouting face… but again her sister defied her predictions, skipping out of the room with a knowing smile.
When the door closed and locked behind her mischievous sister, 45 threw a punch into the steel so hard that her frame registered damage- but that would keep the little eves-dropper away. Damn 9... damn all this meddling-
"Another talk, then?" The commander mused to himself.
45 shot a glare at the man who had started all of her troubles, but he took the ire in stride, pulling out a chair for both 45 and himself at the table. She didn't take it, instead pulling a roll of electrical tape from one of her many pockets, moving about the room with mechanical precision. Every microphone and intercom pickup, she covered, though the moment she began working on the security camera, that pest in the control room buzzed in.
"Commander. I do not approve of what the 'guest' is currently doing."
He gave the camera a wide smile and thumbs up before nodding for 45 to continue what she was doing. Around and around the room she went, making sure that it was only her and the commander. Satisfied with her work, 45 finally came to a stop dead center, her gaze unblinking and unflinching- her combat settings had activated. If the commander were an android, she would have tried her damnedest to send an coded electronic signal to put fear into him.
But he wasn't. Dammit… this all was because he wasn't. Androids she could handle… but the only problem solving 45 had ever known for a troublesome human was a bullet.
"I could kill you right now and be gone before your maid locked the base down." 45 whispered. Again, the man did not flinch at the sheer animosity 45 tried to channel from her emotion module.
"I don't doubt that."
"Do you know how much trouble you've caused me? How much I've been through just to keep you alive and complete my objectives?"
"No, and I don't think that you'd tell me even if I asked."
Another snap of anger had 45 balling her fists again. She wasn't one to just swing at a human- that was more a 416 idiosyncrasy, but 45 hadn't exactly been herself lately.
"I…" her thought processes paused, unable to find an acceptable string of words to properly convey what she wanted. The sudden and overwhelming flood of different emotion processes and the conflicting errors they fired off... it was all so… new.
The commander leaned in, expecting some harsh rebuttal, but when nothing came out of 45 he picked up the initiative that she had dropped. "I understand that you do what you do because you don't know how to do otherwise." The commander took his seat, motioning for 45 to have one as well, but when she refused, he continued anyways, "That it's not just about what you were programmed for, or what was omitted from your programming… but what the world has done to you."
His words cut the fraying connections in her digimind. It stung, yes, but at the same time…
"We are alike, in that way." He said, resting his cheek upon his fist as he looked to her, "You never told me what your past was like, but I know it was never a peaceful one either."
"You don't know the half of it, commander." 45 sighed. Relief… the pressure was relieving as more and more of those damaged connections were cut away. Tentatively 45 placed her hand on the chair's back, using it to keep herself upright as her digimind spun into overclock, new pathways being written where the errors had been trimmed.
"And I hadn't told you the full extent of myself either- what got me into this life of violence… but what matters is that I managed to put myself back together… somewhat… but I did it with help."
Before 45 could finish the automated roll of her eyes, the commander demanded her attention. His face was so serious… so painfully serious. Like those times when he finalized a battle plan, or like when he had seen his T-dolls coming back damaged or disabled, or on that night he had operated beside them- when everything started slipping from her control.
"I'm not asking you to defragment yourself or run mind-map maintenance. I'm simply telling you that when you're ready to talk about it, I'll be here."
It was like a script that he and 9 had written together. The same message, almost the same words, in fact. Words that should have been met with another eye-roll and a frown, but 45 couldn't get her face to function and move the way she wanted it too. She simply couldn't deny the words… or at least she couldn't override the feeling without being painfully obvious that she were forcing it.
"I've spent years alone, commander. Most people I interact with wind up dead, what makes you think I need others?"
"Because you've grown, Forty-five. You've been growing."
"You think?"
Her voice modulator was set to [snide], but it didn't feel that way. More like [defeated], or [thoughtful]. Either way, the more the commander spoke, the more she felt the wiring loosen, more and more of those decaying lines of code snipped free. It was a new feeling, a frightening one. Somewhere deep in the heart of her simulated conscious, a part of her wanted to curl up, wanted to reject everything this human was saying.
Humans created Dolls. Humans brought pain to Dolls. Humans were the problem.
Her physical shell moved, shifting slightly onto one foot as it crossed its arms. Defensive posturing for social situations, an automatic setting beyond her control.
"I've seen it. From the day Fal rescued you, when you snuck your teammates into my base in those IOP containers, when you gave me and Kalina a month of paper-work headaches…" He leaned farther back into his chair, tilting his head with that dopey smirk on his face, "To right now."
The commander had his hands in his jacket pockets as he tipped the chair on its back legs, perilously balancing there. 45 could see the tendons in his arms moving about- he was fidgeting with something. There was hesitation that she could read on his face, but not the source of it-
"You're a different person than you had been before. Only you deny it."
"For the better, or worse, commander?"
"Subjective question. That's something only you can answer."
His expression shifted, those small muscles of the face molding in such a subtle way that no doll could ever hope to emulate. Eyes steeled, set upon 45 with a single-minded focus that should be reserved only for combat. It was an overwhelming determination… the way that he stood so suddenly, the way the he strode to stand towering before her, the way he drew his hand out out of his pocket… and brought forth a ring- a band of titanium, the polygonal cut exterior polished to a reflective sheen.
An Oath ring.
"I'm not asking you to take an Oath imprint, I just want you to have this as a memory to hold on to. If you ever start to lose yourself out there, I want it to be a reminder that you and yours have a home here."
The commander's words held no lie to them, no hesitation either. His hand didn't waver as he held the shimmering band out to her. 45's hands gravitated towards his like a magnet, placing her hands upon his offering.
"Despite knowing my true nature, you'd still accept me…?"
"Of course."
She was expecting the whispers in her digimind to come bursting forth, bracing herself for the dark parts of her programming to come slamming down to smother the positive memories and emotions that she had tried to cultivate. Just like they had all the other times.
Instead, there was only silence. A peaceful, if not slightly disquieting silence in her digimind. She knew what she needed to say- what she needed to do.
"I can't accept this, commander. Not right now." 45 slowly closed his hand back around the band.
"I'm not asking you to put it on, or promising you anything. I want you to have it as a reminder of everything here."
Again, 45 hesitated.
The Oath imprint. A bond. A mark of ownership by a human to a doll. Sure, it came with performance upgrades, ones that were specifically routed and slaved to the emotion module- the supposed increase coming from "devotion" to one's imprinted human.
It was manipulation.
It was not uncommon to hear about other G&K commanders that did it just to squeeze out every last bit of performance from their doll. Just that thought alone made 45 want to throw the thing away.
But the commander wasn't one of those people… she had come to see that for a human, he was one of the decent ones. Trust him? Maybe. Devoted to him? Certainly not.
The only thing 45 could be devoted to right now was revenge- so many things that must be equated with violence. Finding the ones who had made her into this...
She couldn't have that hate jeopardized by an exception to the rule she had set herself by. If she started seeing humans as redeemable, then she would begin thinking about those uncomfortable questions.
And still, her hand closed around it without another thought.
"Ja, I'll carry it with me. Perhaps even cherish it someday." She whispered, holding it up to inspect it. Where there would have been a bar-code, a matching serial number to the Oath imprint, instead there was a simple four-word phrase etched within.
It made the ghost in her digimind awaken, whispering once again in that hauntingly familiar voice.
[-remember me.]
[Please… remember me.]
Clearer than ever before, no static or white noise to muddy the voice's brightness. Just behind her… right over her shoulder. Someone who had been so near to 45… someone that she had held close in her. It was a sunny voice that brought her joy… but also sadness. So much sadness.
"I'm sorry… I can't remember… you-" 45 almost dropped the ring.
"Forty-five?"
"I… I'll carry it." Her words repeated, for more earnestly than before as she tried her best to straighten herself out, shaking the ghost away. "Someone once told me that us Dolls are nothing but our personal memories. I am inclined to agree with their assessment." She gave the engraving one final look, hoping that the voice would return.
'I will remember you.'
She read it over and over, a hundred times, a thousand times, but the ghost in her head didn't speak up again.
But that feeling-
It was like… it was like there was a pressure welling up within her. A feeling that she needed to give voice to, something that she needed to speak clearly. For once, she didn't force it down with the chains of raw processing power.
"Commander." The snap to her voice made him perk up, the concern for her gone in an instant as 45's voice range loud and true, "When I solve my present problem, I… we will return. That is a promise."
"If there's anything that I can-"
"No. It is something that only we can do." Her immediate rejection didn't discourage the commander, who quietly shrugged with a knowing smile.
"Given your work ethic, I'm sure that you will do it and be back shortly then. We'll make sure to keep the lights on for you."
"Flattery will get you no-where. I already promised you something that my primary programming fundamentally rejects."
"Doesn't help to try every once and a while."
"Then I'm insulted that you aren't trying harder." 45 falsely huffed, shoving the ring into one of her jacket's inner pockets- the one reserved solely for mission-critical items. She hadn't even thought about it- that was just where her digimind instinctively stuck it, but she was done second guessing herself.
And to both to the commander and her own surprise, she stood as tall as she could before him, arms outstretched. He looked at her as if she were malfunctioning, seeing an impossibility unfold right before his very eyes.
"Come on, get it over with already. This felt weird enough before you started staring."
"If you insist." He stepped into her embrace, wrapping arms around 45. She was expecting something transformative, something akin to that soothing wave she had felt from 9. Instead, she mostly felt embarrassed- another emotion she thought she had cut from her memory. Still… it was a warm gesture, sending a feeling that she hadn't registered in years, but still not enough to overcome that programmed revulsion that threatened to take control of her face's pigmentation and dial it completely to [255, 0, 0].
"Nope… still not my thing." 45 mumbled, tapping the commander's back as a sign to let go. When they parted, there was a distinct absence of a feeling that she couldn't pin down, a fleeting single impulse that not even her emotion module had data for. She wasn't sure if it was something she would miss, but she was sure that there had been something there.
"But you're smiling. A real one this time." The commander pointed out.
"And you better take a picture and commit it to memory, because you won't be seeing it for a while. Oh wait, but you're not a doll, are you?" 45 sniped back, giving the commander a playful punch to the arm.
"And I think that's part of my charm."
"Charm huh? More like it's because they're programmed to like you."
"And you?"
"I'm programmed to hate you." 45 smiled, "but I can't force myself to."
Before the commander could voice any more of his amusingly lame attempts at banter, 45 had passed him a playful wink as she slipped to the door. When it slid open, 9 was patiently waiting on the other side. 45 knew that they were mostly sound-proofed, but the way that her sister sidled up next to her, that smug grin on her face...
"Lets go, Nine. The others are waiting."
"Right, sis!" Nine was smiling brightly now, and still holding that happiness despite every step they took towards the hangar took her farther and farther away from what 45 knew she desired the most. Unable to tap into their neural network, 45 watched every movement, every single for a moment of hesitation. 9 had promised her, so when would her flighty sister think about reneging the deal?
Right then, 9 had stopped in her tracks, going rigid in surprise.
"Hold on, I'll be right back, sis. I forgot something." 9 took off running, back to him as he leaned next to the door to their former dorm. She threw her arms around the commander, giving a hug that lingered longer than the last one she had given him..
"We'll be back, don't you worry commander!" 9 shouted, excitedly waving as she took off down the hall back to 45.
"Do what you need to, girls. You'll know where I'll be."
45's default scowl did little to bring down 9's mood; if anything it only made the twin-tailed doll skip and hum more brightly.
"How many times do you need to hug that man until your satisfied, huh?"
"I was hugging him for you." 9 smiled, sheepishly rubbing the back of her head, "Since you won't ever do it."
Her sister's words flashed the memory from exactly two minutes and twenty-six seconds ago, as well as prompting another attempt of her damn emotion module to hijack her face's epidermal surface.
"You're right." 45 blurted back, "I never will." She made sure to cast her voice far back as she could to that grinning idiot. The embarrassment was kept completely in check, but something about 9's comment… it had 45 jam her hands into her jacket as they trudged along towards the hanger, her fingers dancing against the fabric that separated them from the ring on the other side.
Renewed purpose… no, a re-focused purpose. Somewhere down the path she had been walking, she had wandered astray… and to her luck, someone had come along to help guide her back. He had no reason to, no ulterior motive that she so eagerly- so cynically anticipated. In the end, she owed him nothing, but she would pay that kindness back someday, somehow.
The team had finished loading up a fresh four-wheeler with ammunition and rations, 9 excitedly throwing herself into the driver's seat as everyone else piled in.
There would be no tearful farewells, no fade to black on a happy ending. This was a smash-cut to something else more pressing and exhilarating for their audience, a tearing of the attention to something other than four dolls quietly driving off into the Yellow-Zone. After all, 404 did not exist.
But 45 had been glad she had been found, if only for a brief moment in her fleeting existence.
When the data transfer completed, she ran through the files as quick as her console-assisted mind could. Target location, AO data, facility map, enemy count… the works. Her employer did not skimp on the payment at all.
She'd draft an assault plan, run it by 416 if she needed to, and then come up with the timetable for the operation. By the time the commander received the data, they would have already cleaned up and bowed out. One final favor before 404 slipped back into obscurity.
But she would do that all later.
Internal reserves were low, the need for a rest and recharge more evident as she sluggishly moved to the miserable excuse for a cot and began plugging herself in. Waiting for the double-checks running through her systems, 45 lay there in the dark. Without thinking, she reached into her pocket to pull out the ring the commander had so dramatically convinced her to carry.
She held it over her finger; its diameter measurements were precisely sized for her. Had that sly devil of a man measured her finger or something while she was in Level Two?
But she couldn't put it on. Not yet- she promised herself that she couldn't. Still, she leapt out of her bed, carefully trailing her charging cords behind her as she moved to her packs.
45 fished through her electronics supplies, pulling out a coil of wire. Measuring twice, cutting once before slipping the ring onto the loop of rubber-coated copper.
"Maybe I don't deserve to wear it yet." 45 spoke to the dull glow of her charging monitor. There was still so much to do, still so much that she needed to change first…
But someday…?
45 gently placed the wire around her neck. Slowly, reverently, like someone was presenting her with it, before tying it off at the end and giving it a gentle tug to see if it were secure.
"Someday I will be able to."
Memories were precious, be they burned into her mind map, crammed into a fragment, or behind that great firewall in her mind… they were a precious part of her, and she would find a way past that barrier someday. Whatever lay beyond it, she wouldn't face it alone.
45 tucked the ring beneath her shirt as she climbed back onto her cot and closed her eyes. Her hand rested upon it, the cold metal of the commander's promise the last thing she felt before slipping back down into Level Two.
[404 Arc End]