Another quick note. General Nathaniel Fox will stay, only the nickname will go, and will go to Dr. Hargreave. And Josef will be renamed to Moses (biblical reference intended (but that's for later))
Spectre's mask was soaked profoundly in his sweat. While the sun wasn't exactly burning hot, nor was the humidity high, his clothes - regular civilian clothing covered with a brown tarp - kept in his body heat, making his skin unable to breathe properly. Consequently, his brow was drenched with condensed droplets of salty water, and his panting was more laboured than what it should normally be.
"Why don't you take off some of your clothes?" Alma asked innocently.
Spectre looked behind him as he grabbed another tree root sticking up from the ground; the slope the party was going up was so steep they needed all the help they could get. They could have gone around, but that would have taken hours more. Visage and Phantom were struggling to keep Jamie from sliding down, muttering about how Ethan should pay them double the agreed fund. Jamie was still comatose. "I don't need to," was Spectre's reply, "I'm not hot.""But you're sweating a lot.""Trust me, Alma," he paused a little as he groaned and pushed himself up a few steps, "there are worse things people can endure."
Alma followed in his wake, trusting his feet cleared some of the slippery leaves, "So how did you end up in the A.P.R?"
Spectre peeked over his shoulder quickly, then returned his head forward, jumping forward to the next tree trunk.
Alma followed, her feet barely gripping the unstable grit. They reminded her too much of Summit Cave... and that Sky Raven. Her biggest fear was that somehow her satchel would slip from her neck and roll its way down the slope. She'd only nearly finished the first in the series. "Well?"
Spectre almost looked surprised that she'd caught up, like he was trying to evade the question. Her suspicions were answered when he responded, "Sometimes it's best not to question why the person next to you is fighting. It can awaken the ghosts of the dead."
Alma cocked her head at the response, "What's that supposed to mean?""History shouldn't be repeated, either by action or word.""In other words, it's too sensitive.""Yes.""You think we should wait for the other two to catch up?"
Spectre swung himself to the opposite side of the tree, allowing himself to sit in a small pocket created by the slope and the irregularity. Seated comfortably, he said, "Yeah. I could do with a breather anyway."
Alma did the same, only with one of the tree's protruding roots.
You want to hear more on the A.P.R while we're waiting for the others?
"Well, there's nothing better to do."
Okay, I have a lot of info from what I can remember, so you better have a pen and paper... oh, yeah. Well I hope you get the general gist of what I'm going to say. The American People's Resistance was founded within weeks of President Jonathon coming into office.
"Coincidence?"
I think not. As far as they told me, the A.P.R was once known as the American People's Republican Party, which was one of the major contenders during the election. When John came to office, many of the leaders of the candidate parties mysteriously went missing, and the parties fell beyond salvation. The A.P.R wasn't completely gone, however, and slowly went underground the more of its leading members went ‘missing'. It eventually renamed itself, went guerrilla, and - so they told me - became little more than a terrorist cell. But judging from what Josef said, I guess their aim is to oust Jonathon from Presidency. The public doesn't really know about them, but apparently they've a stockpile of weapons, ammunition, and vehicles. All they lack is the manpower.
"Which is why they're being paid to go out of their way.""Precisely," Spectre said, leaning in from the other side of the tree. Alma was startled, "Now how'd you deduce that?""How long were you listening?""Since I heard you talking to yourself.""I was just thinking to myself out loud."
Spectre's brow lowered, "Now why do I get the feeling that's not all?""Probably because it isn't.""Then would you care to elaborate?""No."
Alma could tell that Spectre was frustrated by the look in his eyes, and by the air between the two. But what could he do? He couldn't force Alma to tell him everything. "I'll go see if the other two need any help with your friend."
With that, Spectre dropped from his perch and made small, controlled slides down to Visage and Phantom, who were really quite winded from carrying a dead weight,
Why not just tell him?
"About what?"
Me. Simon. The LMC-III.
"Oh, yeah. I didn't tell him because of what you said."
That he was aligned with the A.P.R?
"You said they're now more military than political, yes?"
Yes.
"Well... if they want to oust John as quickly as possible, they're going to need all the help they can get. My mind being a chip capable of holding you and I, the two most complex AIs of our time, and you being designed purely for military purposes..."
They'd take the chip and force us into some new war machine. I see...
"These guys... and girl... are doing this for payment rather than out of the goodness of their hearts. I don't think we can trust them totally on account of that."
I get your point. So what do you propose?
"We stay with them all the way to Ethan's. Once we're with him, we explain anything they want. We owe it to them for their trouble."
Sounds good...
"What is it?"
I just noticed something. If I'm mistaken then I'm sorry, but... That may have been the first time ever you said ‘we'. And by that you meant us, me and you, didn't you?
"...I think I meant all of us then. You, Jamie and I."
After a brief pause, Newblood talked again.
How are you feeling, Alma?
"Excuse me?"
How are you feeling? It's a simple question.
"Ah... Er... Good, I guess. No. Sad. A little sad."
What makes you say that?
Alma shifted her head to the three soldiers trying to heave the unconscious Jamie up the slope. They'd made significant progress with the help of Spectre.
I see. Guilty is the word you're looking for then.
"You know about guilt?"
No, I just get the concept.
"That's the first time you've ever asked me about..."
About you? Yes. I guess so. Is there a problem?
"I just... Just I... You..."
I what?
"...You've changed. A lot."
Is that supposed to be a good thing?
"Oh yes, of course it is. If I were Simon-"
Which you're not.
"-I guess I say it's all for the best. You've changed from some killing machine into a... a... well...
Something better.
"Something better," Alma repeated, "and that is good in itself."
No, it isn't.
"No?"
For all you know, for all I know, this me could be me without any machine guns strapped to my arms. If I had any. For all I know I may not have changed at all. How do you know if I've changed?
"...It's the way you speak. They way you hold yourself."‘The way I hold myself'? Alma, you can't see me; I'm just a data module full of algorithms and thinking processes.
"I know, I know, but what I mean to say is that you don't seem lost anymore."
Lost?
"Purpose. I think you found purpose somewhere along the line."
I always knew what I was doing.
"The moment we first met?"
...Okay, I'll give you that.
"Everything his purpose; has meaning. Humans haven't yet discovered the meaning of life-"
42
"Excluding that one moment," Alma giggled, "But still, people haven't yet found the meaning of life, does that mean life is meaningless? I think not. A rock's purpose is to... just be there... and support everything. This tree's purpose is to live, continue the species. My purpose is to find Simon and bring him home. I know it won't be easy, but I won't give up. I can't for his sake. Your purpose is to be more than you already are. Unless you have some secret agenda?"
Nope.
"You see, Newblood? Everything has purpose. Beg to differ all you want, but I think I've found the meaning of life. Sorry if I've been boring you."
No, no, do tell.
"The meaning of life... is to give meaning to others'.""How very insightful," exclaimed Phantom as the three finally made it up to Alma's height up the slope, "Now could you please give us a hand and help Jamie up this ridge?""How?" she queried defensively, "I can't pull anything or grab anything, except with my teeth, but then I'd just tear up whatever it is. And I don't want to be responsible for Jamie's mauled hand.""Not even something?" asked Visage.
"Forget it," dismissed Spectre, "Let's just get over this ridge and we'll be done with it all."
The statement caught Alma's attention, "You mean, after this ridge is Ethan's house?""Yes," Visage said, "Haven't you been listening?""Not really, no, I've just been having conversations in my head a lot.""Well isn't this comical?" Phantom exclaimed, "We're transporting a schizophrenic robot and an unconscious bystander to some random red-headed rich fellow that lives way out in the wilderness."
Alma sighed to herself; she had to admit the whole situation of things did seem a little ridiculous for anyone to explain in one sentence. She wondered what it would all sound like if it were written down on paper... An emotional robot handicapped with a battle-ready AI is set out to somehow rescue its creator from the clenches of a military dictatorship. A bit stupid when put in that perspective. She also wondered if she was stereotypical or cliché in some way, cross-referencing all the characters she ever read about in her books that Simon put on her shelf. Maybe she was unique, or maybe she just couldn't remember everyone in all the books on that bookcase.
She missed her room.
She missed that house.
She missed Simon.
She almost broke out in invisible tears.
Alma, they're way ahead of us now, nearly over the ridge. You want to see Ethan or not?
Alma shook herself down, mouth to tail, foot to pelvis to other foot, and in an instant the negativity was gone. She hurried up to the struggling group of three-plus-one, made her way underneath Jamie, and pushed upwards so that most of her back was taking Jamie's weight. It hurt her leg joints to take so much extra mass on, but as Spectra had said, there were worse things people could endure. So Alma bore most of the weight while the three militants kept Jamie steady, all the way up to the top of the mountainous ridge. The leaves subsided and turned to gravel and tiny stones, further reminding Alma about that day when everything changed. And how much she'd experienced.
She'd seen parts of the Canadian forests she never thought existed. She'd seen the extent of said wilderness. She'd witnessed kindness from complete strangers. She'd realised how selfish she could be. And she'd seen blood, and violence, and death, all of which Alma wished she could forget. But her mind refused to do so; it was just too traumatic; she could remember all the detail in Malcolm's surprised face as Joshua switched targets. Alma shuddered at the memory. She knew that at some point or another in her journey, someone would die somehow; she just put that thought way at the back of her mind so she wouldn't think about it too much. At least it was one of the baddies and not her or Jamie or Simon or Ethan. Yet.
Who knew where everything was going, because it was certainly not her. Alma only hoped that things wouldn't get any worse. But just how likely was that? The most probable case would be the assaulting of Damocles, which would lead to more death and destruction, and that was no good to anybody. Alma simulated a heavy sigh that no one could take notice of as she was below everyone else's ears.
Don't do that.
"Do what?" Alma whispered back to the voice in her head, somewhat annoyed.
Don't think like that. It does no one any favours.
"And what would you know about it, Newblood?"
It's just... In humans, thinking like that is called pessimism, and making that style of thinking your own rationalisation of everything is called depression. That isn't healthy.
"How would you know about that?"
Again, the transition from human to machine was to be slow, so I was supposed to know as much as I can about any ailment ever-"More importantly," she added angrily, though only at a whisper's pitch, "why would you care?"
I... What?
"Once we get another LMC thingy, you're going to be away from me forever, so why should you care about my state of thinking?"
I... Alma... See, this is what I mean; you're now just rejecting any advice or such I give you.
"Why would I want to take advice from a militant?"
No. Alma, Listen to me-"You just wanted me dead from the start."-those days are over.
"Like hell they are."
Alma, stop it. They are over. Don't believe me? Why would I have been helping you through this as much as I can?
There was a strange feeling building inside her, but Alma chose to ignore it, "I don't believe you."
More proof? How about this...
Alma's vision began to pixelate, and the hurting didn't hurt anymore. Was this Newblood's doing? The group was nearly at the top of the ridge. Just a few steps more.
...I genuinely... genuinely...
The ground flattened. Alma could barely see for miles; her vision was growing worse by the millisecond. They'd made it. A surge of happiness ran down her spine. It cut off suddenly before the tail. Something wasn't right. Alma never felt this... this sluggish before...
...like you.
Her sight went black. Her mind went black. Her ears and nose went dark. Her legs collapsed. Jamie fell on top of her. Almost immediately afterwards, there was no feeling; no hurt; no tingling; no emotion. As she could say or think nothing, she was forced to listen to Newblood's voice for the remainder of her unconsciousness.
I mean I don't like you as in lovey-dovey like-like you, I mean I like you as a friend, a companion. You've been good company and... Alma? Alma? Hello? Are you there? Alma, can you say something? Anything? Think anything? Alma? Alma, this isn't funny if this is another lesson in humour. Alma, please just open your eyes. A smidge? Please be serious. Alma. Alma? Earth to Alma? Please let this just be a system failure. Alma? Hello? If you can hear me Alma, I'm going to assume this is something serious and this is some sort of system failure, okay? I'm going to access system logs now. And it says the power source is low on energy. You have a power source? I never thought about what powered you. Had this wild idea somewhere along the line that you were a robot possessed by the soul of some living thing. The logs don't say exactly what the power source is, just that it's low. Could be solar. But then how'd you last so long under the roof of Simon's house, not to mention the trees of the forest. And the car. And the diner. And everywhere else. Awake yet? How about now? Alma? Hello? Alma? Please? I don't... Alma, don't go. I don't want you to go. Please don't leave. Don't leave me, Alma. Please. Not again. Not like in there. Not again. Please no. Alma? This isn't funny, please just say something. Alma? Please. Just think of something. Anything. I don't want to be alone again. Alma? Please Alma just think of something so I know you're listening. Alma? Alma... Don't... Please don't... I don't hate you... I like... you... I'm different...
"Door's locked.""Then ring the bell.""There'll be no need for that, sirs, madam.""Who said that?""It is I, Phantom, the house AI, Craig. Please lower your rifle. You didn't hear from me last visit?""I guess not. Look, Craig, can you open the door please?""I see why. The front door is now unlocked. Make your way inside.""Thanks. Okay, Visage, you got Alma?""Yep.""Okay, Phantom, on three we lift Jamie, one, two, three.""Ugh! She's a bit heavy isn't she?""Pity we didn't bring a stretcher. Visage, hold the door open will you?""Sure thing.""Where do we put her?""Wherever Ethan says. Let's just get to the living room first. Craig?""Just keep heading straight along the hallway. It's the main room, if you don't remember.""It's been a few days, and we move a lot.""Still. Never mind. Ethan's on his way from the lower level.""Where do we put her?""On the couch for now.""There.""What about Alma?""Set her on the table, Visage, maybe we'll find out what went wrong.""I don't see how.""Neither do I.""Let's just hope. Don't want to come all this way and be paid nothing.""But if that's the case, we didn't do anything, it was faulty goods; the problem lies with the product.""Even so, Phantom, I don't want the risk of us losing our side of the argument, which, considering the A.P.R's reputation, our side isn't favourable.""What happened?""Things happened, Craig, okay?""What happened, Spectre?""The Ute these two were driving was wirelessly overridden by two F.B.I agents. They drove it off the road and it landed upside down, Jamie's been unconscious for over three hours, and Alma collapsed as we reached the North-Eastern ridge.""And the agents?""What do you think we did?""I see... That's a pity. Couldn't it have been avoided?""He was going to shoot her, what else could we do? But we didn't kill either of them; the one we shot took three bullets to the chest and then suicided, not before he killed his colleague.""Curious...""Disturbing more like. Seems like the initiation is taking more of a toll on their minds than the government realises.""Well... one should expect that such an act would weaken a man's resolve rather than steel it.""My god," Ethan exclaimed as he shifted from the secondary hallway and into the main room, seeing the scene before him, "What the hell happened?""That's more or less what I said, sir," Craig announced.
Spectre was kneeling over the living room coffee table - which was a tad too short to be called a table and could frankly be mistaken for a large grey wooden stool if it weren't for the thin draws on the front and rear faces. Visage was standing at the opposite side of the table, which had the metal skeleton of Alma lying limply on top of it. Phantom was seeing to someone else, an unfamiliar woman with short, light brown hair, and donning a massive red scab on her forehead. The three guns-for-hire stared back at him through their masks.
"Is that Alma?""Yes," replied Spectre.
"Well then could you please explain what happened to her and what... who the hell is she?""Her name's Jamie," Phantom said, remaining in the same position he was when Ethan first came through, "and she was an unwanted casualty.""She's dead?!""No, of course not. Jamie was driving Alma to you. Some agents locked down her Ute and drove it off the side of the road. Jamie's been unconscious for the past few hours and Alma collapsed at the top of the ridge up there.""As for the agents, one shot the other and soon afterwards committed suicide before we could do the honour for him."
Ethan turned his head downwards, keeping affirm stare on all his guests, "Your sick in the head if you wanted to do that.""Call us what you like," Spectre declared, "we don't care, so long as we get paid. Now where's the money you promised us?""Jamie? What's she got to do with anything? Last I saw of her was in university.""So? Where's the money, and you'd best double the agreed amount.""Why?!""Are you serious?" Phantom questioned, "We spent the last few hours lugging her sorry arse around Bitterroot. Couple that with the intended target, Alma here, I think it's expected we get double.""Are you serious? You want money for acting on compassion?""Ethan," Visage interrupted, "we're not going to turn this into a philosophical debate. Just give us the money and that'll be all.""Seventy-five. That will be all I'm offering.""No, a hundred thousand, that's double," Phantom argued.
"Seventy-five or nothing, final offer.""Spectre," Visage intervened again, "Jamie wasn't expected by either side, I think we can settle for seventy-five thousand. Besides, the A.P.R already has enough money as it is.""Not that I have a say or anything," Ethan interjected, "but I agree with Visage here.""And, not that my vote counts," Craig continued, "and not that I am bias because he's my owner, but I back Ethan's claim.""I'm not your owner, Craig, I'm your creator and we're friends."
Visage looked back to Spectre and smiled a nervous smile beneath the mask, "Three against two?"
Spectre darted his eyes between the three other conscious people in the room. He breathed a deep sigh, "Fine. Seventy-five," Phantom shifted a little when he heard the choice his leader made, "Now where is it?""Hold on, what's wrong with her?" Ethan questioned. He couldn't believe he almost forgot about her.
"We don't know," Visage said before Spectre had time to open his mouth, "we were hoping you could find out. Or Craig at the most.""Well according to me, sirs, madam, Alma is suffering from a severe case of power depletion.""So... this is just a case of the battery gone flat?""Yes.""Good. Wait, will the memory be saved?""It should be, sir, yes.""Phew."
Spectre had a slighty-less-than-serious look on his brows - the only visible part of his face aside from his eyes and part of his nose, "The money, Ethan?""In the study. I'll get the rest to you later.""Phantom?" Spectre instructed without instructions, and Phantom went back into the hall and through a door on his left. He emerged from the same room with a metal case gripped loosely in his right hand, his rifle hanging off his shoulder by the strap. He angled his head towards the door as he looked at his fellow mercenaries, indicating it was probably time to leave. The others shifted to move.
"Hold up a second," Ethan stopped them, "as you were her escort, I believe you're entitled to see her wake up.""You can't be serious?" exasperated Phantom, who'd already turned his back on Alma and was heading for the door.
"The deal was that you and your local guerrilla group would intercept her when her energy signature came close. I also said that she would be brought alive. Technically speaking, her battery is dead therefore she is dead. In that case, you aren't entitled to take the money. Yet.""In case you haven't noticed, we're the ones with the guns," Phantom aggressively observed.
Visage whipped her head around and spat his codename in disgust at his notion. Spectre did the same, only he didn't say anything. Ethan remembered the last time he was here in his house, with the other two of course, he'd stayed silent most of the time, to the point where he wondered whether Spectre was even listening.
"I didn't think the A.P.R was a group of bandits," Ethan jested, but proved a point, "do that to everyone else in America and the people won't like you at all if you take power.""Fine," Spectre decided aloud, "We'll stay until morning. It'll be past dark by the time we get back to camp anyway.""Oh I won't mind if you crash here for the time being.""Where else would we go?""Outside," Ethan could see all their surprised faces, "but then what sort of human would I be?""Cruel," replied Visage.
"Just like Phantom was about to become," Ethan reminded. He could see embarrassment sneak into Phantom's eyes, or was it anger? Ethan couldn't be sure with that mask in the way, "I've got two guest bedrooms, so unless two of you are okay with sleeping in the same bed for a night, one of you will have to sleep on the couch. No, never mind, I'll sleep on the couch, you three take the beds.""That's mighty kind of you," Visage thanked.
Ethan shrugged modestly, "It's the least I can do. Now if you wouldn't mind unloading your gear and taking your boots off when inside the house? It's bad manners. Just saying."Another quick note. General Nathaniel Fox will stay, only the nickname will go, and will go to Dr. Hargreave. And Josef will be renamed to Moses (biblical reference intended (but that's for later))
Spectre's mask was soaked profoundly in his sweat. While the sun wasn't exactly burning hot, nor was the humidity high, his clothes - regular civilian clothing covered with a brown tarp - kept in his body heat, making his skin unable to breathe properly. Consequently, his brow was drenched with condensed droplets of salty water, and his panting was more laboured than what it should normally be.
"Why don't you take off some of your clothes?" Alma asked innocently.
Spectre looked behind him as he grabbed another tree root sticking up from the ground; the slope the party was going up was so steep they needed all the help they could get. They could have gone around, but that would have taken hours more. Visage and Phantom were struggling to keep Jamie from sliding down, muttering about how Ethan should pay them double the agreed fund. Jamie was still comatose. "I don't need to," was Spectre's reply, "I'm not hot.""But you're sweating a lot.""Trust me, Alma," he paused a little as he groaned and pushed himself up a few steps, "there are worse things people can endure."
Alma followed in his wake, trusting his feet cleared some of the slippery leaves, "So how did you end up in the A.P.R?"
Spectre peeked over his shoulder quickly, then returned his head forward, jumping forward to the next tree trunk.
Alma followed, her feet barely gripping the unstable grit. They reminded her too much of Summit Cave... and that Sky Raven. Her biggest fear was that somehow her satchel would slip from her neck and roll its way down the slope. She'd only nearly finished the first in the series. "Well?"
Spectre almost looked surprised that she'd caught up, like he was trying to evade the question. Her suspicions were answered when he responded, "Sometimes it's best not to question why the person next to you is fighting. It can awaken the ghosts of the dead."
Alma cocked her head at the response, "What's that supposed to mean?""History shouldn't be repeated, either by action or word.""In other words, it's too sensitive.""Yes.""You think we should wait for the other two to catch up?"
Spectre swung himself to the opposite side of the tree, allowing himself to sit in a small pocket created by the slope and the irregularity. Seated comfortably, he said, "Yeah. I could do with a breather anyway."
Alma did the same, only with one of the tree's protruding roots.
You want to hear more on the A.P.R while we're waiting for the others?
"Well, there's nothing better to do."
Okay, I have a lot of info from what I can remember, so you better have a pen and paper... oh, yeah. Well I hope you get the general gist of what I'm going to say. The American People's Resistance was founded within weeks of President Jonathon coming into office.
"Coincidence?"
I think not. As far as they told me, the A.P.R was once known as the American People's Republican Party, which was one of the major contenders during the election. When John came to office, many of the leaders of the candidate parties mysteriously went missing, and the parties fell beyond salvation. The A.P.R wasn't completely gone, however, and slowly went underground the more of its leading members went ‘missing'. It eventually renamed itself, went guerrilla, and - so they told me - became little more than a terrorist cell. But judging from what Josef said, I guess their aim is to oust Jonathon from Presidency. The public doesn't really know about them, but apparently they've a stockpile of weapons, ammunition, and vehicles. All they lack is the manpower.
"Which is why they're being paid to go out of their way.""Precisely," Spectre said, leaning in from the other side of the tree. Alma was startled, "Now how'd you deduce that?""How long were you listening?""Since I heard you talking to yourself.""I was just thinking to myself out loud."
Spectre's brow lowered, "Now why do I get the feeling that's not all?""Probably because it isn't.""Then would you care to elaborate?""No."
Alma could tell that Spectre was frustrated by the look in his eyes, and by the air between the two. But what could he do? He couldn't force Alma to tell him everything. "I'll go see if the other two need any help with your friend."
With that, Spectre dropped from his perch and made small, controlled slides down to Visage and Phantom, who were really quite winded from carrying a dead weight,
Why not just tell him?
"About what?"
Me. Simon. The LMC-III.
"Oh, yeah. I didn't tell him because of what you said."
That he was aligned with the A.P.R?
"You said they're now more military than political, yes?"
Yes.
"Well... if they want to oust John as quickly as possible, they're going to need all the help they can get. My mind being a chip capable of holding you and I, the two most complex AIs of our time, and you being designed purely for military purposes..."
They'd take the chip and force us into some new war machine. I see...
"These guys... and girl... are doing this for payment rather than out of the goodness of their hearts. I don't think we can trust them totally on account of that."
I get your point. So what do you propose?
"We stay with them all the way to Ethan's. Once we're with him, we explain anything they want. We owe it to them for their trouble."
Sounds good...
"What is it?"
I just noticed something. If I'm mistaken then I'm sorry, but... That may have been the first time ever you said ‘we'. And by that you meant us, me and you, didn't you?
"...I think I meant all of us then. You, Jamie and I."
After a brief pause, Newblood talked again.
How are you feeling, Alma?
"Excuse me?"
How are you feeling? It's a simple question.
"Ah... Er... Good, I guess. No. Sad. A little sad."
What makes you say that?
Alma shifted her head to the three soldiers trying to heave the unconscious Jamie up the slope. They'd made significant progress with the help of Spectre.
I see. Guilty is the word you're looking for then.
"You know about guilt?"
No, I just get the concept.
"That's the first time you've ever asked me about..."
About you? Yes. I guess so. Is there a problem?
"I just... Just I... You..."
I what?
"...You've changed. A lot."
Is that supposed to be a good thing?
"Oh yes, of course it is. If I were Simon-"
Which you're not.
"-I guess I say it's all for the best. You've changed from some killing machine into a... a... well...
Something better.
"Something better," Alma repeated, "and that is good in itself."
No, it isn't.
"No?"
For all you know, for all I know, this me could be me without any machine guns strapped to my arms. If I had any. For all I know I may not have changed at all. How do you know if I've changed?
"...It's the way you speak. They way you hold yourself."‘The way I hold myself'? Alma, you can't see me; I'm just a data module full of algorithms and thinking processes.
"I know, I know, but what I mean to say is that you don't seem lost anymore."
Lost?
"Purpose. I think you found purpose somewhere along the line."
I always knew what I was doing.
"The moment we first met?"
...Okay, I'll give you that.
"Everything his purpose; has meaning. Humans haven't yet discovered the meaning of life-"
42
"Excluding that one moment," Alma giggled, "But still, people haven't yet found the meaning of life, does that mean life is meaningless? I think not. A rock's purpose is to... just be there... and support everything. This tree's purpose is to live, continue the species. My purpose is to find Simon and bring him home. I know it won't be easy, but I won't give up. I can't for his sake. Your purpose is to be more than you already are. Unless you have some secret agenda?"
Nope.
"You see, Newblood? Everything has purpose. Beg to differ all you want, but I think I've found the meaning of life. Sorry if I've been boring you."
No, no, do tell.
"The meaning of life... is to give meaning to others'.""How very insightful," exclaimed Phantom as the three finally made it up to Alma's height up the slope, "Now could you please give us a hand and help Jamie up this ridge?""How?" she queried defensively, "I can't pull anything or grab anything, except with my teeth, but then I'd just tear up whatever it is. And I don't want to be responsible for Jamie's mauled hand.""Not even something?" asked Visage.
"Forget it," dismissed Spectre, "Let's just get over this ridge and we'll be done with it all."
The statement caught Alma's attention, "You mean, after this ridge is Ethan's house?""Yes," Visage said, "Haven't you been listening?""Not really, no, I've just been having conversations in my head a lot.""Well isn't this comical?" Phantom exclaimed, "We're transporting a schizophrenic robot and an unconscious bystander to some random red-headed rich fellow that lives way out in the wilderness."
Alma sighed to herself; she had to admit the whole situation of things did seem a little ridiculous for anyone to explain in one sentence. She wondered what it would all sound like if it were written down on paper... An emotional robot handicapped with a battle-ready AI is set out to somehow rescue its creator from the clenches of a military dictatorship. A bit stupid when put in that perspective. She also wondered if she was stereotypical or cliché in some way, cross-referencing all the characters she ever read about in her books that Simon put on her shelf. Maybe she was unique, or maybe she just couldn't remember everyone in all the books on that bookcase.
She missed her room.
She missed that house.
She missed Simon.
She almost broke out in invisible tears.
Alma, they're way ahead of us now, nearly over the ridge. You want to see Ethan or not?
Alma shook herself down, mouth to tail, foot to pelvis to other foot, and in an instant the negativity was gone. She hurried up to the struggling group of three-plus-one, made her way underneath Jamie, and pushed upwards so that most of her back was taking Jamie's weight. It hurt her leg joints to take so much extra mass on, but as Spectra had said, there were worse things people could endure. So Alma bore most of the weight while the three militants kept Jamie steady, all the way up to the top of the mountainous ridge. The leaves subsided and turned to gravel and tiny stones, further reminding Alma about that day when everything changed. And how much she'd experienced.
She'd seen parts of the Canadian forests she never thought existed. She'd seen the extent of said wilderness. She'd witnessed kindness from complete strangers. She'd realised how selfish she could be. And she'd seen blood, and violence, and death, all of which Alma wished she could forget. But her mind refused to do so; it was just too traumatic; she could remember all the detail in Malcolm's surprised face as Joshua switched targets. Alma shuddered at the memory. She knew that at some point or another in her journey, someone would die somehow; she just put that thought way at the back of her mind so she wouldn't think about it too much. At least it was one of the baddies and not her or Jamie or Simon or Ethan. Yet.
Who knew where everything was going, because it was certainly not her. Alma only hoped that things wouldn't get any worse. But just how likely was that? The most probable case would be the assaulting of Damocles, which would lead to more death and destruction, and that was no good to anybody. Alma simulated a heavy sigh that no one could take notice of as she was below everyone else's ears.
Don't do that.
"Do what?" Alma whispered back to the voice in her head, somewhat annoyed.
Don't think like that. It does no one any favours.
"And what would you know about it, Newblood?"
It's just... In humans, thinking like that is called pessimism, and making that style of thinking your own rationalisation of everything is called depression. That isn't healthy.
"How would you know about that?"
Again, the transition from human to machine was to be slow, so I was supposed to know as much as I can about any ailment ever-"More importantly," she added angrily, though only at a whisper's pitch, "why would you care?"
I... What?
"Once we get another LMC thingy, you're going to be away from me forever, so why should you care about my state of thinking?"
I... Alma... See, this is what I mean; you're now just rejecting any advice or such I give you.
"Why would I want to take advice from a militant?"
No. Alma, Listen to me-"You just wanted me dead from the start."-those days are over.
"Like hell they are."
Alma, stop it. They are over. Don't believe me? Why would I have been helping you through this as much as I can?
There was a strange feeling building inside her, but Alma chose to ignore it, "I don't believe you."
More proof? How about this...
Alma's vision began to pixelate, and the hurting didn't hurt anymore. Was this Newblood's doing? The group was nearly at the top of the ridge. Just a few steps more.
...I genuinely... genuinely...
The ground flattened. Alma could barely see for miles; her vision was growing worse by the millisecond. They'd made it. A surge of happiness ran down her spine. It cut off suddenly before the tail. Something wasn't right. Alma never felt this... this sluggish before...
...like you.
Her sight went black. Her mind went black. Her ears and nose went dark. Her legs collapsed. Jamie fell on top of her. Almost immediately afterwards, there was no feeling; no hurt; no tingling; no emotion. As she could say or think nothing, she was forced to listen to Newblood's voice for the remainder of her unconsciousness.
I mean I don't like you as in lovey-dovey like-like you, I mean I like you as a friend, a companion. You've been good company and... Alma? Alma? Hello? Are you there? Alma, can you say something? Anything? Think anything? Alma? Alma, this isn't funny if this is another lesson in humour. Alma, please just open your eyes. A smidge? Please be serious. Alma. Alma? Earth to Alma? Please let this just be a system failure. Alma? Hello? If you can hear me Alma, I'm going to assume this is something serious and this is some sort of system failure, okay? I'm going to access system logs now. And it says the power source is low on energy. You have a power source? I never thought about what powered you. Had this wild idea somewhere along the line that you were a robot possessed by the soul of some living thing. The logs don't say exactly what the power source is, just that it's low. Could be solar. But then how'd you last so long under the roof of Simon's house, not to mention the trees of the forest. And the car. And the diner. And everywhere else. Awake yet? How about now? Alma? Hello? Alma? Please? I don't... Alma, don't go. I don't want you to go. Please don't leave. Don't leave me, Alma. Please. Not again. Not like in there. Not again. Please no. Alma? This isn't funny, please just say something. Alma? Please. Just think of something. Anything. I don't want to be alone again. Alma? Please Alma just think of something so I know you're listening. Alma? Alma... Don't... Please don't... I don't hate you... I like... you... I'm different...
"Door's locked.""Then ring the bell.""There'll be no need for that, sirs, madam.""Who said that?""It is I, Phantom, the house AI, Craig. Please lower your rifle. You didn't hear from me last visit?""I guess not. Look, Craig, can you open the door please?""I see why. The front door is now unlocked. Make your way inside.""Thanks. Okay, Visage, you got Alma?""Yep.""Okay, Phantom, on three we lift Jamie, one, two, three.""Ugh! She's a bit heavy isn't she?""Pity we didn't bring a stretcher. Visage, hold the door open will you?""Sure thing.""Where do we put her?""Wherever Ethan says. Let's just get to the living room first. Craig?""Just keep heading straight along the hallway. It's the main room, if you don't remember.""It's been a few days, and we move a lot.""Still. Never mind. Ethan's on his way from the lower level.""Where do we put her?""On the couch for now.""There.""What about Alma?""Set her on the table, Visage, maybe we'll find out what went wrong.""I don't see how.""Neither do I.""Let's just hope. Don't want to come all this way and be paid nothing.""But if that's the case, we didn't do anything, it was faulty goods; the problem lies with the product.""Even so, Phantom, I don't want the risk of us losing our side of the argument, which, considering the A.P.R's reputation, our side isn't favourable.""What happened?""Things happened, Craig, okay?""What happened, Spectre?""The Ute these two were driving was wirelessly overridden by two F.B.I agents. They drove it off the road and it landed upside down, Jamie's been unconscious for over three hours, and Alma collapsed as we reached the North-Eastern ridge.""And the agents?""What do you think we did?""I see... That's a pity. Couldn't it have been avoided?""He was going to shoot her, what else could we do? But we didn't kill either of them; the one we shot took three bullets to the chest and then suicided, not before he killed his colleague.""Curious...""Disturbing more like. Seems like the initiation is taking more of a toll on their minds than the government realises.""Well... one should expect that such an act would weaken a man's resolve rather than steel it.""My god," Ethan exclaimed as he shifted from the secondary hallway and into the main room, seeing the scene before him, "What the hell happened?""That's more or less what I said, sir," Craig announced.
Spectre was kneeling over the living room coffee table - which was a tad too short to be called a table and could frankly be mistaken for a large grey wooden stool if it weren't for the thin draws on the front and rear faces. Visage was standing at the opposite side of the table, which had the metal skeleton of Alma lying limply on top of it. Phantom was seeing to someone else, an unfamiliar woman with short, light brown hair, and donning a massive red scab on her forehead. The three guns-for-hire stared back at him through their masks.
"Is that Alma?""Yes," replied Spectre.
"Well then could you please explain what happened to her and what... who the hell is she?""Her name's Jamie," Phantom said, remaining in the same position he was when Ethan first came through, "and she was an unwanted casualty.""She's dead?!""No, of course not. Jamie was driving Alma to you. Some agents locked down her Ute and drove it off the side of the road. Jamie's been unconscious for the past few hours and Alma collapsed at the top of the ridge up there.""As for the agents, one shot the other and soon afterwards committed suicide before we could do the honour for him."
Ethan turned his head downwards, keeping affirm stare on all his guests, "Your sick in the head if you wanted to do that.""Call us what you like," Spectre declared, "we don't care, so long as we get paid. Now where's the money you promised us?""Jamie? What's she got to do with anything? Last I saw of her was in university.""So? Where's the money, and you'd best double the agreed amount.""Why?!""Are you serious?" Phantom questioned, "We spent the last few hours lugging her sorry arse around Bitterroot. Couple that with the intended target, Alma here, I think it's expected we get double.""Are you serious? You want money for acting on compassion?""Ethan," Visage interrupted, "we're not going to turn this into a philosophical debate. Just give us the money and that'll be all.""Seventy-five. That will be all I'm offering.""No, a hundred thousand, that's double," Phantom argued.
"Seventy-five or nothing, final offer.""Spectre," Visage intervened again, "Jamie wasn't expected by either side, I think we can settle for seventy-five thousand. Besides, the A.P.R already has enough money as it is.""Not that I have a say or anything," Ethan interjected, "but I agree with Visage here.""And, not that my vote counts," Craig continued, "and not that I am bias because he's my owner, but I back Ethan's claim.""I'm not your owner, Craig, I'm your creator and we're friends."
Visage looked back to Spectre and smiled a nervous smile beneath the mask, "Three against two?"
Spectre darted his eyes between the three other conscious people in the room. He breathed a deep sigh, "Fine. Seventy-five," Phantom shifted a little when he heard the choice his leader made, "Now where is it?""Hold on, what's wrong with her?" Ethan questioned. He couldn't believe he almost forgot about her.
"We don't know," Visage said before Spectre had time to open his mouth, "we were hoping you could find out. Or Craig at the most.""Well according to me, sirs, madam, Alma is suffering from a severe case of power depletion.""So... this is just a case of the battery gone flat?""Yes.""Good. Wait, will the memory be saved?""It should be, sir, yes.""Phew."
Spectre had a slighty-less-than-serious look on his brows - the only visible part of his face aside from his eyes and part of his nose, "The money, Ethan?""In the study. I'll get the rest to you later.""Phantom?" Spectre instructed without instructions, and Phantom went back into the hall and through a door on his left. He emerged from the same room with a metal case gripped loosely in his right hand, his rifle hanging off his shoulder by the strap. He angled his head towards the door as he looked at his fellow mercenaries, indicating it was probably time to leave. The others shifted to move.
"Hold up a second," Ethan stopped them, "as you were her escort, I believe you're entitled to see her wake up.""You can't be serious?" exasperated Phantom, who'd already turned his back on Alma and was heading for the door.
"The deal was that you and your local guerrilla group would intercept her when her energy signature came close. I also said that she would be brought alive. Technically speaking, her battery is dead therefore she is dead. In that case, you aren't entitled to take the money. Yet.""In case you haven't noticed, we're the ones with the guns," Phantom aggressively observed.
Visage whipped her head around and spat his codename in disgust at his notion. Spectre did the same, only he didn't say anything. Ethan remembered the last time he was here in his house, with the other two of course, he'd stayed silent most of the time, to the point where he wondered whether Spectre was even listening.
"I didn't think the A.P.R was a group of bandits," Ethan jested, but proved a point, "do that to everyone else in America and the people won't like you at all if you take power.""Fine," Spectre decided aloud, "We'll stay until morning. It'll be past dark by the time we get back to camp anyway.""Oh I won't mind if you crash here for the time being.""Where else would we go?""Outside," Ethan could see all their surprised faces, "but then what sort of human would I be?""Cruel," replied Visage.
"Just like Phantom was about to become," Ethan reminded. He could see embarrassment sneak into Phantom's eyes, or was it anger? Ethan couldn't be sure with that mask in the way, "I've got two guest bedrooms, so unless two of you are okay with sleeping in the same bed for a night, one of you will have to sleep on the couch. No, never mind, I'll sleep on the couch, you three take the beds.""That's mighty kind of you," Visage thanked.
Ethan shrugged modestly, "It's the least I can do. Now if you wouldn't mind unloading your gear and taking your boots off when inside the house? It's bad manners. Just saying."
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