As it turns out, Four-Seven did not come with a manual. Even if he did, I doubt it’d be stored within his body.
But there’s still some sort of good news. While rummaging through his insides and hooking up wires that are not meant to be exposed to an absolute novice such as myself, I found a switch that could prove to be the solution to my little problem.
I’d hooked him up to my band- no small feat given bands aren’t meant to look through the programming and hardware of an AI and a military grade AI android is not meant to be serviced from a band- and uncovered his software.
All I really needed to do was give him a hard reboot and he’ll be powered up and ready to drag me off to the Council for judgement, but here’s the twist.
The original programmers thought it wise to include a kill switch, it’d essentially wipe him clean of all standing orders, memories and start him off like he’s right off the production line.
If I go through with it then, this Four-Seven will essentially be killed off…
I find myself pausing at that thought, I should have some attachment to this version of him, in fact, I do. Despite his obsession with being on time for all processes and carrying out everything in the textbook manner, Four-Seven was and has been my companion.
I couldn’t exactly become chumps with the workers lest they take me hostage and start making demands, so the cold, crooked smile of this Android that now lies on the wet floor of the Fei Craft was something I woke up looking forward to.
The waves wash to shore, it’s a strange sound, a strange scene having a beach, having a shore, having water above ground.
But I suppose this is the world I live in now; these types of things are merely the lightest consequences of the war. Since the crash I haven’t moved out of here, haven’t gone out far enough to undoubtedly take note of the decimated, irradiated, burned bodies that would litter the streets.
Sorry Four-Seven, I need to survive…without you interfering.
With a push of a button, I initiate the wipe. It’s not as hard as I thought, in fact, I’m relieved, I can finally start moving on to the next bit on the agenda.
Food.
There are foodpacks on the Fei Craft but, as one would expect, the food in there is meant for Fei. And the human digestive system simply can’t process this…sludge.
I haven’t eaten in several hours and by the growling of my stomach I can tell that this would usually be the time I’d be having dinner up on the Facility.
But instead, I’m stuck here, on a devastated Rim.
Once Four-Seven’s wipe is through, I’ll head out and see what I can scavenge. I doubt I’ll last any longer, I’ve never been this hungry before.
40%
Just forty. This might be a while.
***
“Hel…ell…Hello!”
Groggily, I peer my eyes open and find Four-Seven squatting in front of me. “What do you want, Four-Seven?”
“Four-Seven…is this my name?” He asks, quirking his androgenous beautiful face to the side.
“Your name? Well, not really, you don’t have a name.”
“Oh.” It’s completely devoid of any emotion but I can sense a great deal of disappointment in the single utterance for some reason.
I stop rubbing my eyes and spring to my feet, “Not tha-ah!”
My hand is tugged back down but the cord connecting my band to Four-Seven, and then I remember what I was up to before I dozed off.
The Four-Seven crouched in front of me now is a complete, newborn. He doesn’t even know his name.
“Do you know your batch number?”
“47722111143-”
“It was a yes or no question, Four-Seven.” I can’t help but smile down at him as he pouts.
Was he always this cute? No, this cuteness was rubbed off of him long before he was assigned to protect me.
With a sigh I pull out the cord from his chest and close him back up, I was lucky to have found a way to open him up in the first place, a lot of the emergency supplies didn’t fit.
“You’ll heal from that right?” I ask, pointing at the gaping patch on his chest where his synthetic skin would normally cover. To get through to his hardware and thus his software I had to peel off the insane imitation of human skin.
I can’t help but shake my head at that, is this really where my tax gets thrown into? Synthetic skin for Saeons? Well, I can’t complain too much, it’s the same stuff burn victims are given.
He nods at the question and asks his own as he gets up, “Who are you? Are you my creator, my…mother?”
Mother.
I cringe at the word, “I’m not that old!” I’m so not ready for childbearing or child rearing…Oscar would argue the contrary though..
“I am…sort of your creator, but more accurately, I’m the person you must protect, Four-Seven, do you understand that.”
His eyes widen with realization quite abruptly, his body begins to expand. It’s a marvel every time he does it but this is particularly jaw dropping as not just a single limb expands but his entire body does.
The skin tears apart and gives way as his metal parts move farther away from the centre in a series of loud clicks, steaming and hums. Even his head is widened and stretched beyond what could be thought normal.
From a classic average of six feet in height, Four-Seven grows to over ten feet.
And then he speaks, “Please get in, Mother, the radiation levels within the atmosphere and the water that soaks this place is far too high for you to survive. I will shelter you.”
With my mouth agape I finally realize what he’s done. He always reassured me that he would envelope me if we got sucked into the vacuum in that glass box. But, I didn’t think it’d be this literal.
His…insides? They’re now spread wide and far apart to comfortably accommodate my entire body if I were to…step into him.
He’s turned himself into a suit of armour. A full body-suit.
“Do not be frightened, Mother.”
“Stop calling me that and I’m not scared, I’m just amazed.” I shake my head clear and chuckle to myself, “I appreciate the offer, Four-Seven, but I’ll be fine with the radiation for now, I’ve taken RR’s.”
There’s a pause where I’m certain he wonders if what I’m saying is true, but inevitably, he reassembles himself back into a human form.
“Very well, Moth-”
“Call me Xerai.”
“Xerai. If you feel ill let me know immediately and I shall protect you.” His voice screams determination.
“Great, I’ll do that. Now that you’re up, we can get moving.” I mutter as I pick up the things I’ve gathered.
A large plasma-cannon strapped around my neck and a standard mini-blaster tucked underneath my shirt.
The large plasma-cannon for intimidation, I think the Fei will think twice about coming close to me when they see it. I’ve also carried all the medical supplies, first-aid kit and all.
Not that I know how to give first aid but… “Four-Seven, you know how to give first-aid right? Should be in your basic programming.”
“Yes, I do, are you in need of first-aid?”
“No, just confirming, come on, lets go.” I wave him over as I walk out of the Craft and into the shallow waters of the shore.
“Where are we headed to, Xerai?”
I toss him the med-kit and pull up the map on my band, “Well, according to this…West.”
“West.” He repeats like a toddler learning a new word. “What will we find there?”
What will we find there huh. I wonder that as well.
Right now, I’m only moving because I want to know for sure, I want to see some evidence that…that Oscar is gone. Otherwise, there isn’t much reason to live at all, I might have as well ordered Four-Seven to kill me after the wipe.
But I suppose I can always take that direction after I’ve gotten the truth.
“We’re going to see if someone is alive, Four-Seven.”
“Alive?” he sounds shocked, “There’s a high probability that person is deceased.”
“Why do you say so?”
“It is evident that this planet has been subject to a full orbital bombardment,” He points to the streets, the fallen towers and the derailed train that hung off the rails like a dead snake.
“It is unlikely that anyone has survived.”
It’s a grim sound; hearing someone else reaffirm your darkest thoughts, I know these facts more than he does because unlike him, I didn’t need to land on the planet to get proof that people are likely all dead.
Perhaps I’m moving on merely on false hope. Is this a survival instinct? Fighting unwinnable battles?
Maybe…I’m just using Oscar as an excuse to continue living.
“No!”
“Xerai?”
“No! He’s alive and I won’t die until I’ve seen proof otherwise.” I turn and face up to Four-Seven, “For that selfish reason alone, you must protect me, Four-Seven, do you understand?”
He looks down at me critically, this close I can hear the whirring of his processing units, and see the artificial light in his eyes glow as he thinks.
“Yes, I understand this fully, Xerai.”
“Good. Now let’s get going.”
