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niennandil-me-writes · 2 years ago

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Fragments of a Cybernetic Mind: Chapter 10 - Put What You Believe in to the Test

Summary Half a year has passed since the events of Christmas of 2064. The world is slowly adjusting to sentient ROMs. But Turing is distracted from their task as ROM-kind’s leader and ambassador by another obligation they carry. They want to deliver Leon Dekker’s last words to his daughter. But first, they’ll have to find her, which doesn’t prove easy. They ask their journalist friend for help, who seems less than thrilled.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Epilogue

We’re walking down the streets of downtown New Fresno, after a one-hour autocab ride (and after Turing spent some time talking to the awakened ROMs here, who didn’t have the opportunity to speak to them directly yet).

We – that is, TOMCAT, after we called in one last favor – actually did end up finding exactly what I predicted in one of Yannick Fairlight’s frozen accounts: A fixed deposit set to be transferred on the second of June, 2071. It’s filed with the rest of Fairlight’s philanthropy, so it would look like one of the scholarships he awards to promising new talent. New money was paid into this account regularly, about once a year, no doubt part of Dekker’s payment. It’s quite a lot by this point. And the account it is supposed to be transferred to is already set. From there, it’s all easy work.

My expose will be released next week. Has my name on it and everything. I feel nervous about that, but also kind of proud. Turing provided a foreword. Melody offered as well, for a price of course. I declined. I’ve already started work on a new article, a research piece about the history of military use of combat androids. I’m expecting some interference from Melody and her people, but I don’t think she’ll send a hitman after me. Which is a huge step forward in my book.

As we walk down the streets, approaching the address, I try to assess Turing’s mood. They barely talked during the ride, spending most of the time staring out the window. I asked them if they had planned what they were going to say before we left, and they said they would think of something. I trust them. I’m just here to accompany them, after all, and for the cover story. From here on out, it’s all on Turing. There’s a nostalgia to it. Just like with the big building blocks, which remind me of my old neighborhood. I don’t miss those times.

We enter a building, ride up the elevator. Turing seems tense, but why wouldn’t they be? The elevator comes to a halt. As we walk up to the apartment door, I turn to Turing.

“Are you ready?”

They hesitate. Neither of us touches the doorbell.

I am about to say something else, when the door opens. We both turn, seeing a teenage girl with light brown hair, freckled face. She seems confused at seeing us, suspicious even, staring daggers at us.

“Johanna Clearwater?” I ask. “We’re from OK Today.”

The girl tilts her head, then turns her head to the side, calling back into the flat: “Jo, there’s some media people here for you.”

Footsteps, then another girl appears in the door. She’s taller, paler. Black hair bound in a loose ponytail. I recognize her father’s eyes. She seems more open than the other girl, friendlier.

“Please, come in,” she says to us, then calls goodbye after her friend, who’s hurrying down the hallway: “See you tomorrow, Fey.” Back to us: “She’s part of Robotics Club.” It sounds like a mix of explanation and apology.

I shake Johanna’s hand, introduce myself again, though she already knows me from our brief email correspondence. She lets us in, leads us into a small living room, where we sit on an old synthleather couch.

“Can I get you anything? Water, juice?” she asks.

“Water is fine.”

“My Mum is working right now, or she’d greet you as well,” Johanna says. Her eyes keep returning to Turing, distracted. “Excuse me, are you Turing Webber?”

“No, I just look a lot like them.” Turing is not good at lying. “I get that a lot. I’m just a ROM interested in journalist work, though I was not originally built for that.”

“Oh, sorry.” She furrows her brow. “May I know your name then?”

“Er...” Turing fumbles. “Dur- ... ing.”

I sigh. “Sorry, we didn’t want to make a fuss about it.”

The girl’s eyes don’t leave Turing. “But you are the leader of the awakened ROMs. Why would you want to interview me about our High School’s Robotics Club?”

Before Turing can dig themself deeper, I say: “I wanted to write a short piece about the future of technology. And who better to ask than the future itself. I’m conducting interviews with lots of junior talent, as well as leading innovators. Turing is curious about both the topic and my work, so I let them tag along. I hope this doesn’t bother you?”

“Not at all,” Johanna says quickly. “I’d love to ask Turing some questions myself, if that’s okay. I’ve been following the Awakening. I’ve read everything I could find on it.”

“I’m sure you and Turing will get to talk, if they are up for it.” I look at Turing, almost expecting them to take over the conversation immediately, as they so often do. But they don’t seem up for any kind of talk right now.

So I start the interview. It’s pretty shallow, since it’s just supposed to be a cover for us being here, but Johanna warms up quickly, talking about her work in the Robotics Club, what they are currently working on, which parts of the process interest her most, which schools she’d love to attend to learn more if her family had the money…

When we finish, I ask her if she wants to say anything else. She shrugs her shoulders, but continues talking.

“It’s been so wild since the Awakening. My Mom said it’s chaos. Our club is split on it, to be honest. Whether sentient ROMs are a good idea, and to what extent. We’ve been joking that we might as well be a Debate Club with focus on ethics right now.” She smiles. “But it’s interesting. And it opens up so many questions about the future. If robots can think like humans, then what will that mean for humans? I’m not scared of the Terminator, or something like that. I just think it’s all very neat. It’s fascinating.”

I note her answer down. “Turing, do you want to say anything else?” Here’s the opening. The moment we've been working towards for months.

But Turing stays silent, staring at the wall. I follow their gaze. And there, hanging above the door, where I haven’t spotted it all the while, is Leon, no, Wilson, looking down out of a framed picture. He’s smiling. It makes me realize I’ve never seen a genuine smile on him. It suits him. He looks much younger. Brighter.

“That’s my father,” Johanna says shyly when she notices what we are looking at. “He, uh, died in a car accident when I was very young. I never got to know him.”

I look back at Turing. Their gaze stays fixed on the picture. For a while, nobody says anything. Then suddenly:

“He’s sorry.” Turing looks back at Johanna. Her brow furrows in confusion. “He’s sorry he had to leave you like this, I mean. At least that’s what I think. He’d be proud of you.”

Johanna looks away, embarrassed. She bites her lip. Then dabs at her eye. “Er, thank you... I’m... not sure what I can say to that.”

“I’m sorry,” Turing says. They fall silent for a while, and I wonder if they are trying to start anew, broach the subject. Say what they wanted to say when they came here. But how can they? I wonder if I should help them out, when they start talking again: “I lost my creator 9 months ago. It still hurts.”

Johanna’s face clears with understanding. “Oh, Turing, I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you,” Turing says. Their voice is heavy with a grief I haven’t noticed weighing them down in a while. And I finally understand what this is really about. “Sometimes it feels like I never got to know him, either. Not really. I saw one side of him, but after his death... I realized there was much more he didn’t show me of himself. Parts of him I wished I didn’t have to see. Parts I almost... detested. I wished I could just delete that knowledge from my data bank. I didn’t know how to deal with it. I didn’t know what to do with all those conflicting emotions I was processing.”

“That must have been difficult,” Johanna says.

“I know, it’s not the same as with you,” Turing says. “I am sorry to bring all of that up now. It’s just...” They pause, and I know they are making a decision. “That picture on the wall reminded me of a picture I have of Hayden, from our old apartment. We moved to a new place months ago, and I just can’t decide if I want to hang it up. If I want him to watch over me, after everything I’ve learnt.”

Johanna has moved up from her chair, sitting next to Turing on the couch now. She puts a hand on their small metal shoulder. “I can’t help you with that decision,” she says. “But whatever you think about your… your father, I know you got friends who will help you work through that.” She glances at me, and I nod, putting a hand on Turing’s other shoulder. I feel them tense up, gears grinding in a mechanical sob.

“And even if there were parts about him you don’t like, the way you talk about him, he was a good father to you,” Johanna continues. “And I’m sure he would be proud of you as well.”

Simulated tears run down Turing’s screen now. “You really think that?” Their voice is choked up.

“How couldn’t he be?” she asks. “You’re basically robot Jesus.”

We both laugh at that, and Turing cries, sobs shaking their little robot body.

“And what you said...” Johanna goes on. “About my Dad being proud of me. I know you didn’t know him, but that really meant a lot to me.” She smiles, looking up at the picture again, and Turing and I, we both know that everything has been said that needed to be said.

Before we call an autocab for the ride home, we walk the streets for a while, the orange afternoon sky above us.

“I’m sorry,” Turing eventually breaks the silence. “I roped you into all of this, and then I didn’t have the courage to pull through.”

“It’s alright,” I say.

“I never delivered his last words.”

“You did,” I say. “The important part of it. I’m sure he’d rather she remember him like this, though it’s barely a memory, than as what he became against his will.”

They nod, lost in thought. We continue walking. Music playing from a parked car. The sun is setting, air cooling down. I remember a long gone evening on Treasure Island. The talk I had with Dekker before we went into the sewers. Before everything changed between us. It’s strange how the things he said as he hunted us through the server room have been burned into my memory and haunt me in my dreams, but only now I remember this talk. Though maybe not that strange.

He told me how he liked being around me. How I saw him like he was. Not like others did. I didn’t really understand what he meant back then. But in a way, that’s what I have arrived back at. I’ve seen his memories, his life before his brain was signed away. I don’t hate him anymore. In fact, I realize I never did.

I look at Turing. “There’s something else you want to ask me, right?”

Turing doesn’t look at me as they say: “I hate to do this again. You’ve already helped me with so much.”

“It’s alright,” I say again. “That’s what friends are for. Besides, I’m an investigative journalist, and by now, I’d say finding people is my speciality.” I grin, putting an arm around them as we walk, though it’s a bit awkward with their small size. “Just say the word.”

They look up to me. “Can you help me find Grace?”

I smile. “Sure. We’re gonna find your sister, Turing.”

#my writing #fanfic #read only memories #2064 read only memories #2064rom #leon dekker #alys #turing webber #johanna clearwater #since she's mentioned by name:#fey dagger #man i hate coming up with names for unnamed canon characters but this would have read weird otherwise #anyway thanks for being along for the ride #there won't be much fanfic here otherwise but feel free to stick around #fragments of a cybernetic mind

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niennandil-me-writes · 2 years ago

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Fragments of a Cybernetic Mind: Chapter 9 - Daddy Issues

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 10 (final) Epilogue

cn: family problems, bigotry

Turing spends the next weeks combing through the memory data, but without any success. Any leads they find just terminate in dead ends as the data becomes eaten up by glitches, corruptions or the memories just cut off at the wrong point. What they do find in new information - mostly more insight on Sarah - doesn’t lead anywhere substantive either, not even when they cross-reference the mesh.

I asked Lexi to keep her eyes and ears open, since she is meddling with extra-legal activity as part of her job. She finds some people claiming to have contact to military androids who are willing to do dirty deeds for the right pay, but it all seems very dubious. The same results from Crow’s side.

I continue searching the mesh for mentions of Dekker and other combat androids, reading my way through accounts of violent crimes attributed to them. For some reason, it doesn’t trigger my trauma as much as even the happiest of Dekker’s memories did.

None of this gives us any information on Dekker’s family. It’s like his entire existence has been scrubbed of the mesh, and the world at large, which seems a particularly cruel fate for him. If it weren’t for my own pride, I would consider talking to Flores again.

At least my writing is going well. My editor has been sending me notes the last weeks, and together we give the text the last polish. I’m particularly proud of the chapter describing the events in Parallax’ server room, though I still have to think of a good pseudonym for Dekker. While most of what Flores said left me bitter, I do agree with her that his full name doesn’t need to be known, especially now that we might involve his daughter. So far all I got is his name with some letters shuffled around.

It's one of the last days of summer, though the heat is not any less intense for it, burning down on the market street and making the air flimmer. That’s Neo San Francisco for you. Turing, Lexi and I fled inside the Hassy bar, where we ordered some of Ramona’s newest creations: the Iced Hassy Hot Cup.

We are surprised to see Chad and Oli here as well, who are enjoying one of the last days of their summer break before it’s back to school. Oli is having a deep conversation with Ramona about a new VR drama, while Chad leans cooly against the counter and pretends he doesn’t care, though he keeps chiming in with opinions on one particular character he seems to identify with a lot.

“Hey, no loitering!” Lexi calls over to him as a joke.

“What?” Chad yells. “What are you, a cop?”

“Chad...” Oli puts a hand on his arm. “That’s the lady who arrested us for spraying graffiti in November.”

Chad flinches back.

“Relax, I haven’t worn the badge for months now,” Lexi says, leaning back against the cushioned seat with her Hassy.

“Oh, yeah,” Chad says. “So you can’t do nuthin’ to us. We could trash the whole place, and you couldn’t stop us!” He climbs on the nearest empty table, garnering looks.

“I could,” Ramona interjects. “And I will.”

“Chad, please don’t get us banned from this place,” Oli pleads. “I like it here. And I like Ramona.”

“Fine, I’ll not trash this place,” Chad gives in. “But not because I’m scared or anything. I just like hanging out here. You don’t piss where you drink.”

“Especially because after this performance, I’m not letting you use the restroom,” Ramona says.

“Come off that table, Starfucker, and sit with us,” I call up to the boy.

“Hey, you called me it.” Chad grins and jumps off the table that starts dangerously teetering. “Oli, you haven’t called me it in ages.”

“Do you sign like that on your college applications as well?” Oli asks as he walks over to our table, rolling his eyes.

“For the art schools, yes.”

“Wait, I thought your dad was against art school?” Oli says.

“Yeah, he wants me to go to law school, so I can do the HR’s work in court,” Chad explains. “Which sounds boring as fuck.”

“I’d love to see you face off against Jess,” I say. “That would end in a cat fight.”

“The only way you should ever be in court is as a defendant,” Lexi notes.

“I’m sending out applications to art schools anyway,” Chad says. “And even if Dad won’t support me, I know Mom’s got my back.”

“Wait, I thought you weren’t in contact anymore?” Oli asks. “After the whole, uh, gene splicing thing?”

Chad looks embarrassed. “She, erm, actually reached out to me last month. So we met up. Kept it secret from Dad, he wouldn’t understand.”

Oli’s face lights up with a wide smile. “Chad, that’s amazing!”

“No big deal. We just talked,” he scoffs. “Caught up a bit. I was never really into the HR stuff anyways.”

“That’s sweet,” Ramona says. “I can’t believe your father would separate a family over some bigoted ideas about purity. That’s straight up evil.”

“I am very happy for you, Starfucker,” Turing says.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re all happy for me.” Chad blushes, brushing his hand over his face in a way that makes it look like he’s trying to punch the tears out of his eyes. “Anyways, we talked a bit about my plans for the future. And Mom said she supports my decisions, and that she’d pay for art school. Said that’s what parents are for, after all.”

There’s a loud crashing sound as this time, a table does fall over, drinks flying through the air and to the floor. Oli has to dodge out of the way.

“Damn it, I just cleaned there!” Ramona cries out. “And it’s my shift as well! The ROM’s on break.”

“We are so sorry,” Turing says. “We will help you clean up.”

“Hey, is everything okay?” Lexi asks me.

I’m staring ahead, my mind racing. Then I turn to Lexi: “Can you get us access to Fairlight’s finance accounts?”

“What?” She looks at me in confusion. “Did your drink have too much caffeine?”

“Did you figure out a way to track Fairlight?” Turing wants to know, their face a question mark.

“But some of the brightest minds in the country already looked through everything he left behind,” Lexi explains. “And they didn’t find anything. TOMCAT included. Besides, the accounts are all frozen.”

“They weren’t looking for this,” I say. “And it’s not Fairlight I am trying to find. So can you give me access or do I have to ask TOMCAT?”

“I can try to call in a few favors,” Lexi says, still confused.

“What did you find out?” Turing asks.

“It’s what Chad said,” I explain. “A good parent secures their child’s future, even if they might not be able to be there for them.”

#my writing #fanfic #read only memories #2064rom #2064 read only memories #leon dekker #alys #turing webber #lexi rivers #ramona rogers #chad “starfucker” mulberry #oliver meadows #fragments of a cybernetic mind

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