Chapter Text
[
'I like to think of him as a friend. He doesn’t seem to mind when I call him that, which makes me hopeful that he considers me one, too. There’s a certain charm to his earnestness.
He likes animals and he was quite vocal about that at first. However, as the tests pile on, he’s become more reserved. This did not extend to other species. He’s quite taken with sea creatures and primates. When I asked him about it this morning, his reply stuck with me.
He said that many of the tests they had been relaying on him were like those done to other creatures. They were the same principles; these were tests of ‘consciousness’. Mutual engagement hasn’t been enough. Being capable of ‘play’ or demonstrating problem solving capabilities isn’t enough, either. In the same breath that an animal could be discounted for having higher intelligence, they were using that principle on him. It was common practice to malign researchers who humanized these creatures too much, and it made him sad on my behalf watching similar words hurled my way.
It’s striking that he feels sad for how I’m being treated, above himself even. Being frank, that thoughtfulness might be one of the biggest driving forces for me to prove he’s more than a robot.
Feedback between sensing and acting, or feedback between a being and the environment, both can follow a simple set of rules that have been defined prior, capable of learning and adapting to years of machine training, if provided a large enough dataset. If it had connection to new data through Wi-fi support, then the data drift would be expected to make learning capabilities that could ‘evolve’, theoretically speaking.
It’s something to be considered. His brain forming in a ‘womb’ like encase made me think of expecting parents who would play music to stimulate the embryo within. The difference being his ‘brain’ was split in a way that flabbergasted even himself because it put a distance between us yet again. I would imagine this had to be done because emulating human thought was not the only goal in mind when creating him.
But then what was it? Right down to pausing in between to breathe, his thought process is a mirror of ours. What started as something I found charming became so much more. But the components that gave him that gift are not the same as mankind’s. Something had to be engineered especially for his sake because his creator couldn’t quite get it down otherwise.
He acts more like a man than a machine at times, yet I’ve been chastised with increasing frequency for using those words. I must have reviewed the blueprints religiously, going over my findings with him as I’ve made new discoveries. He offered to help with data revival, his reasoning being that he hoped it would fix some of his lost memories. But I can see why the board put restrictions for the time being. I’m not sure when or if he’ll legally be allowed to help with future tasks.
I didn’t realize how alone -I- was until those days when he wasn’t present and I found myself talking to the walls or my cat, bringing back eerie reminders of my graduate school years.
An advanced machine capable of learning and thinking at a higher level than automatons we’ve ever seen before, yet there was no forethought put into his negative emotions, outside of destruction.
Someone understood how difficult ethics could be, yet that thoughtfulness ended as soon as the ethics training was done. It was practically a dream-like state for him, much in the way that the subconscious grows and learns in adolescence. Yet he wasn’t even given the real-life experience that a person would have to bridge the gap of those feelings and allow for maturity to grow alongside it.
I’ve yet to bring up that portion of my findings with him because…
Well…
My father once told me I would die hungry and alone if I went into archeology. I cried for several months afterwards. He’s more emotional than I am, so I haven’t the foggiest how he would react to something more extreme. The fact that his creator put so much effort into one aspect but not enough in the others—I admire the man, I would argue I’m his biggest fan in this field, but I must say, I wish there was more left behind to understand why he did what he did.
There’s plenty more to share and when the time comes, it will all become clear. He already is coming to understand why some researchers act the way they do when he must demonstrate more specialized capabilities. His distaste for it seems to have been a learned reaction, from where exactly, we still haven’t located. But it’s there and it’s made my argument in his favor move on smoother than it would have otherwise. He has tangible disdain when using the [X Buster].
I have no reason to do so, but I trust his creator. His work is honest; it conceals a lot but the amount of caution taken for something that could have simply been a tool of war leads me to believe that there was more happening in that period. I don’t think it is inappropriate to call these documents a raisonné, for although they are technical, there is significant artistic merit not only to the blueprints, but also for the general design.
The definitive analysis hasn’t been introduced to the scientific community but as was inevitable, it’s already infected the scholarly discourse
"..............................................."
"..............................................."
"...................................................................................."
]
Dr. Cain hadn’t noticed his vision had gone dark for a moment until he was blinking rapidly to reopen his eyes. His monitor was the same, the light felt brighter after time had passed.
Looking over old journals late at night usually helped tire him out, and it had worked once again, but he felt as though he was in the middle of completing a thought. His mind had still been running and that last sentence brought him back to consciousness. He wanted to add an addendum, but he paused when he noticed he had several missed calls. Another was being sent ten minutes after the last one, and he was able to pick it up this time. He felt his blood pressure rise as the familiar voice of an operator spoke to him in a rushed, panicked tone.
“He’s asking for me? He’s asking for my help?” The old man jumped from his chair, swearing as his tendons ached from the sudden move. He heard his knees and back creaking, popping back into place after hours of sitting while he fumbled towards his cane. “Well, I don’t see why that’s such a ridiculous question! He hasn’t asked me to do anything in—No, I’m not saying I won’t be there! Of course I’ll be there! Give me five minutes—one minute! You don’t need to send anyone down; I am most certainly not an invalid!”
His face clenched in irritation when the operator on the line told him that as per the commander’s orders, only a qualified hunter could be trusted to escort Dr. Cain to their quarantine building and the reploid currently under his care did not meet that criteria. This was a task that couldn’t be done with just a researcher’s assistant. Dr. Cain had half a mind to lecture the operator that just because his friend assisted him did not make him ‘his assistant’. That type of logic would mean that all the reploids that were hunters were his assistants and therefore, just a lab assistant would have seniority over all of them. But the urgency behind the situation prevented the elder from flying off the handle completely.
Dr. Cain slammed the line shut. There wasn’t time to be offended at having been awoken so late. His robot needed him. It was unprecedented, which was feeding into his nerves. The most important reploid he created was asking for help. There certainly was the first time for everything.
Something in his base instincts took over his reasoning, asserting that he should not drag X into that room. Not when X was already in his recharge chamber, peacefully resting after another stressful day of hearing about Mavericks. The old man prayed his friend wouldn’t mind that he hadn’t been included.
The hand monitor flickered from a small light at the top of the device to alert Dr. Cain of the escort’s arrival. He pressed at the screen to open the door for what could be described as a standard combat model. It was perfectly capable of destroying entire squadrons of mechaniloids but would be challenged if a real Maverick appeared.
This was supposed to make the doctor feel safe. They were increasingly shorthanded when it came to the stronger forced combat androids these days…The meeting earlier that day was meant to increase the budget for such a unit, despite the sick expression that formed on X’s face that didn’t leave even after the meeting ended.
“Sir.”
Dr. Cain didn’t respond to the salute from the machine that towered over him. “He returned in one piece, isn’t that already a good sign?” He replied dryly. He didn’t miss the hunter’s wince once he stood up straight
Dr. Cain begrudgingly allowed the hunter to shift him onto a wheelchair once they arrived at H.Q. No one would look at his face directly when he asked for status reports on the path towards the med bay. It wasn’t until the doorway slid open that Dr. Cain remembered to breathe.
He saw the powerful figure in a damaged state. It led to Dr. Cain abruptly sitting up, only to tumble back onto the chair, his balance compromised by his abrupt awakening combined with stress. He had difficulty getting himself upright, he never felt this sick before. This reploid was specifically designed to be indestructible. This was their hope for the Maverick Hunters. Dr. Cain tried to steady himself again but like a poison, his mind was infected with dread. He should have listened to the government. He shouldn’t have let Sigma tell him he could handle this mission, despite direct orders not to let their strongest Maverick Hunter go in there without an entire army ready.
A medical reploid approached him with a banana IV, more than likely spotting the fluctuating levels of his blood pressure and his other vitals being compromised. The elder pushed the medical reploids away and moved slowly towards the commander. He would get there on his own, he wasn’t helpless. He was the one who had come to be of use and that thought carried with him once he could touch the side of his creation’s face. Sigma wasn’t dead, the steady pulse of his internal circuitry brought some relief to Dr. Cain. Sigma could be repaired. It looked worse than it was but Father God in Heaven, did it look awful.
The scars scared him even though he was glad his prayers had been answered. Sigma managed to be the exception; the leader of the Maverick Hunters returned with his life. That did not make it any easier. What did alleviate his stress was his thoughts drifting towards the repair job he would have to undertake to ensure their hope against Mavericks never ended up in this type of situation again. Major upgrades had to be made for the sake of his survival.
He licked at his suddenly dried lips, hesitating to talk louder than a whisper. “...You found him?”
Sigma’s eyes had been shut; his hardware was straining not to fall into hibernation. Dr. Cain had to move his hand away as blue eyes flickered online after seconds passed of sparks appearing near his temple. “You told me ‘Break a leg’, sir.”
“So, you broke an arm instead…That was your way of proving me wrong?” He laughed, though there were tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. He was touched at the thought of his machine asking for him in the middle of the night after falling into trouble. He had a bleeding heart, but he couldn’t help comparing it to his colleagues having to drive down to save their child after they went away to college and started having drunken benders. Not to completely lose himself with feeling, his voice cracked when he said, “Well, so you want me to fix this? Surely the medical staff here have a steadier hand than I–”
“That’s not…why we need you…” The tired smile on the commander's face faded away. “Why I need you...This one should be studied. I think you can do it.” His voice had weakened considerably, though Dr. Cain couldn’t be sure if it was to lower his energy output or genuine ‘feeling’.
“Studied…This one?” Dr. Cain had been fighting back tears but now disbelief was taking over. “You’re not making sense. Is it dead?”
“...No…”
“What do you want me to do then?”
“The commander insisted we needed your expertise, sir.” A member of the 17th Elite Unit stepped forward. Dr. Cain recognized the new addition. A beetle reploid that had started as a researcher but shifted his role when the demand for Maverick Hunters grew. “We all thought it wasn’t safe but—”
“I think this will be different. I think that you, of everyone here, would know how to handle a machine like this. It’s an artifact…” Sigma forced his eyes online once more, so his creator had to look at him. “I trust you to handle this because you won’t give up on a broken robot.” The strain was too much, and his system was on the brink of a shut down. He leaned back against the wall. “...That’s not a monster…I know what I saw.”
At this point, Dr. Cain understood that the group surrounding them only agreed to bring him in because they were worried about the commander’s judgment.
The mission was to destroy a Maverick that had been at large for some time. What started as a hushed rumor had been turning into a cautionary tale for anyone who explored too deeply into an area that Dr. Cain had declared off limits. But there were always treasure hunters and poachers who found ways around that, then the next thing they knew, Mavericks had gone from a rare occurrence to something with increasing frequency. There was no record of who this particular robot used to be, no way to pinpoint a creator, meaning that it was either illegally made or…
“You think it’s an older model?”
“Maybe…even older than the one you have…” Sigma spoke as though he had just won a game against his creator. “You told me that I can feel…I know you won’t agree but it’s a feeling I have that—I know it’s more, this machine has to be—” He stopped abruptly, his system forcing a minor restart.
The hunter that had escorted Dr. Cain tried to come between them in the split moment the commander hesitated. “Dr. Cain, Commander Sigma, if I may—”
“Stand down.” Dr. Cain was sure he would be in trouble with his friend tomorrow when he found out the decision that was being made. “I can’t make any promises…are you sure this one is subdued?”
“It won’t hurt anyone again.”
“You cannot be real. You can’t make that kind of promise, we don’t have any data to support it!” The beetle’s comment was merited.
Dr. Cain looked between them uneasily. There was something to be said about the fact that Sigma didn’t react to the outburst. What was making him reopen his eyes was a different force.
“And how do we get data? By running tests.” Sigma’s strength returned, his words carrying an excitement Dr. Cain hadn’t heard before. “No one knows about this operation outside of top-level administrators, you won’t have to explain. Just give me time to prove what this is—”
The commander of the Maverick Hunters was advised not to take this mission early on. Their clearance was still being processed, as was the factory creating the new reploids that would be used for a specialized unit of hunters. After the losses from Gamma and Beta's units, the government was adamant that they couldn't let Sigma suffer the same fate.
What led to Sigma going prematurely was something even his creator couldn’t say for certain. Pride? Bragging rights?
“He keeps saying that—How can you be certain?!” The 17th unit hunter must have been on the brink of outrage for some time. He was pleading with Dr. Cain. “The commander isn’t well, only you have the authority to shut this down before we’re all fired! He must have had damage to his logic circuits because if you think for one second, we should let a human go into that room with that thing –”
“Dr. Cain…” Sigma murmured. “My job is to protect humans who are at risk. No one can detect a Maverick threat better than I can. I’m not asking you to trust the Maverick, I’m asking you to trust me. Please.”
“It smiled at me when it tore apart a reploid, right in front of us—”
“Doctor…You must believe me. You know I wouldn’t—”
“It was covered in so much reploid synthetic fluid and blood, you’d think it was stained red—”
“Please…father…”
Dr. Cain swallowed. He looked between the two machines, pushing away the lower ranked reploid so he could be at Sigma’s side.