“He’s not dead, he’s sleeping.”
“They’re supposed to sleep,” his voice rasps slightly. “Forever.”
Rennin was starting to feel a cold sweat building up. “I’ll wake him up and show you he’s alright.”
“He walks, he talks, but he’s not real. How can you live when you’re made of death? We have batteries that keep us ticking,” the android looks at his chest, “but it’s all silent.”
“You mean androids, don’t you? You’re not dead.”
“Yes I am. I’m trapped. I’m stuck in here,” again looking at his chest. “I can’t get out. I tried but I couldn’t, my blood froze the knives and my bones are too strong. Can’t cut.”
Rennin looked at the insane android’s chest. “What’s in there?”
“A coffin. A coffin with us in it. Have to get out. They think I’m crazy but I just want to be free. I must get out before they re-purpose me.”
He wants to get out of his body? “Re-purpose you?”
“Deemed unfit for service. Recalibration failed. Loss of resources unacceptable. Thermosteel too valuable. To be stripped and cannibalised by new dead. Making more of us. Taking me apart and putting parts in others. Get me out of here.”
Rennin was absolutely certain this android didn’t mean out of quarantine or the ship, he meant his body, well and truly. “Kill you?”
His face screwed up into a snarl. “Can’t kill dead things! Take it out and smash it!” he screeched, looking at his chest with wide eyes.
Rennin was about to answer when an orderly injected the babbling CryoZaiyon with something that knocked him out cold. The orderly apologised and wheeled the android away.
Indigo Reign affected androids very differently, Rennin figured. That was a little too much insanity for his liking. He looked over to Veidan to see that the android was now awake, drowsily looking at the spot the crazed android was sitting. He eventually looked to Rennin. “He was complaining of nightmares last week. Now he’s insane.”
“Didn’t realise your lot dreamt at all.”
“What you call REM we call RTP: Random Thought Process. While we power down, our minds shift what’s in our daily bandwidth instant access memory to storage files. The equivalent of your short term to long term memory.”
“You guys scare me. That guy scared me. Who was he?”
“His name is Jas Newry.”
“I’ve never heard an android say shit like that. Hell I’ve never heard a person say that.”
Veidan parodied a smile, “He’s not the first to say we’re walking dead. He won’t be the last either.”
“Is that true what he said about being re-purposed? Being stripped to bits and used as spare parts?”
“Think of it as recycling.”
Rennin didn’t think he could feel any more disgusted. He thought of these androids in the same way he thought of people. He imagined a person being hollowed out of organs while still alive.
Re-purposed.
Being considered insane for an android obviously garners no help; they just use what they can from your body and throw the rest away. Knowledge of mental health regarding people was still grossly inadequate, even in this day and age, so there wouldn’t be any help for an android.
Rennin felt sick.
Over the next weeks, Rennin had become quite fed up with being in quarantine. The healing process for his broken body was agonisingly long.
So many more have been hit with Indigo Reign that the Crucible is well past maximum capacity. All the cots were now organised in rows and the lines for the toilets were ridiculously long.
Brown alert long.
Portable restrooms were rigged up after a few days but the walls weren’t exactly opaque. You could see enough detail through them to know when someone was gripping their legs trying to force out their sin.
There were also a mass of surveillance cameras installed, increasing the oppressive feeling within the quarantined level that had begun to cause cabin fever, resulting in an alarming rate of suicides.
Jas Newry wasn’t seen again.
Veidan was the only one that seemed to be doing better. And he was improving at an ever-accelerating rate. He’d fall in a fit of convulsions during a new task, be sedated but as soon as he was moderately awake he’d be up and trying again. He could walk, talk and take aim with his handgun but was still having trouble holding the rifle, and sniping was still a while off. He decided to try running and made it fifty metres, swearing and cursing all the while to keep his mind focussed, before collapsing. Each seizure gave Decora new neural pathways to correct and from there repeating previous tasks would no longer trouble Veidan.
Rennin watched Veidan doing laps of the quarantine zone, a big grin spread across his face, and even Rennin found himself smiling. Veidan did a cartwheel mid stride and stopped completely upon landing as his legs and arms began to tremor. He set his face in grim determination and clenched his fists, willing himself to stay upright. After a moment the tremors ceased and he started running again.
Another cartwheel achieved, and this time he didn’t need to stop. Decora was impressed, and commented to Zillah that Veidan’s system was starting to develop immunities to it in small ways. His code was beginning to correct itself. There was still more work to do, Veidan was still quite some way from being battle ready or anything approaching self reliant.
Another week passed and Rennin’s treatment had progressed to the point he could now walk around comfortably. Decora spent almost every waking minute with Veidan or at his research station, recoding the cure.
Veidan was doing a single arm handstand rotating his legs around in a V shape. His face was neutral but his eyes intensely focussed. He was ready for his last test. He’d managed to finally get through an obstacle course with various targets and tag them all cleanly, but a hand-to-hand challenge was to be the final test. Last time he tried anything physically combative was an arm-wrestle with Decora that resulted in an instant fit. Veidan wouldn’t give up though. He could taste the end of his affliction and nothing would stop him. The quarantine zone decontamination doors opened and in walked the only android capable of taking Veidan down: Forgal Lauros.
Rennin thought this a little ridiculous, but Veidan seemed happy to see him. Lauros emitted a strange presence, somewhat cold but comforting. The two shook hands. Lauros spoke first. “How are you?”
Veidan straightened his posture almost defiantly. “As good as I can be.”
“I’m not sure this is such a good idea.”
“It’s not a good idea,” said Zillah, standing next to Decora with her arms folded.
“You’re the strongest, if I can hold my own against you, I’ll consider myself fit,” said Veidan, ignoring Zillah.
“You’re not able to consider yourself anything. If Nexarien thinks you’re fit, then I’ll accept that as fact,” said Lauros.
Decora couldn’t help but speak up. “If you had seen him only last week you would be able to judge the extremity of his exponential improvement.”
Lauros didn’t seem to react but with androids it was always difficult to tell. “Very well.”
Decora put his hand on Lauros’ shoulder. “All I want is a text book wrestle. Saifer’s well and truly capable of combative acrobatics, and his fighting sequences are proficient; but his body is still very frail when it comes to brute force. Brace your feet flat on the ground and lock hands.”
“You’re playing Mercy?” asked Rennin slightly mystified.
“How appropriate,” said a voice next to Rennin that made him jump in surprise.