Refurbishment (A Backstory Thread)

[Monkey Kitty]

The Diplomat, The Construct, and The Company

As soon as Anke was released from the hospital, a flurry of activity began. Anke alternated between participating in the peace talks - which had now taken on an additional sense of urgency - and holocalls to every level of the company that owed Rills, from the salesperson to top-level Volent management, complaining about the inconvenience of having her bodyguard replaced and emphatically stating her refusal to cooperate. She did a surprisingly good impression of an irate customer, Rills thought.

During the peace negotiations, Rills remained impassively behind Anke's chair, being a menacing presence and keeping a careful eye on things. Once Anke was safely in her room yelling at Volent and subsidiaries over the comms - locked down and protected by the automated local security system - Rills risked leaving her briefly for a foray to investigate the scene of the bombing.

There was a blackened, charred crater in the center of the room. The table had been reduced to debris. A few chairs were still strewn haphazardly. The walls were marked by blaster fire.

Rills wasn't quite sure what they were expecting to find...

But then an idea came to them. Rills approached a pockmarked wall, and did a thorough scan of the blaster trace.

Huh. That was interesting.

When they returned to the suite, Rills told Anke without preamble, "Those blasters were manufactured by Guerracorp, a wholly-owned subsidiary of Volent Technology Systems. At the very least, they armed the mercenaries. At most, that's our inside job."

"Interesting," Anke said. She didn't sound surprised. "Good work, Rills. I think it's time to call their bluff."


***


A few threats of disclosure later, Anke was on a private holocall with Linc Valli and a tight-lipped Volent attorney.

"I don't know what you think you found--" Linc began.

The lawyer shushed him. "You aren't obligated to say anything to her."

Anke smiled dangerously. "That's fine. I'm happy to talk first. We have proof that Volent has been playing both sides of this peace negotiation."

"What proof do you think you have?"

"Mr. Valli, as Volent's attorney of record in this matter, I strongly advise you not to--"

"Those blaster signatures. We traced them. They were manufactured by Guerracorp."

"Bad news, Ms. Umber - we manufacture a lot of weapons. I know your type would like the whole galaxy to be full of people peacefully holding hands and singing, but war is a reality, and someone has to supply those weapons - that's how your way of life is protected."

"The bomb components that were recovered from the scene also have internal markings of Guerracorp manufacture."

That was a total fabrication. The bomb's detonation had been complete; no surviving components had been found. But Linc Valli's sudden blanch told Anke everything she needed to know about the guilty party.

"Any mercenary could steal our technology and use it," Linc said. Unconvincingly. He was on the ropes. But they hadn't quite won yet...


***


Meanwhile, Rills received another contact directly to their processor - not malicious code this time, though. Just a ping.

protocol: security ri1. accept download?

Rills was puzzled but intrigued.

protocol: security riii5. accept.

The packet downloaded. Rills stored it in a partitioned area of their processor, to start with, and scanned it for malware, but it was just a packet of documents.

A contract.

>Anke. We've got them.



***


"What exactly is it that you want, Ms. Umber?" the corporate attorney asked, his lips somehow even thinner and more tense.

"First of all, you cancel the other contract. You'll lose face with the losing side, and maybe some money, but your legitimate clients will never know it happened. I want these peace talks to finish without interruption. Is that clear?

"Fine." Linc refused to look at her.

"And one other thing. I want you to sell me the personal protection unit contracted to me, RIII5."

"We don't sell those units. Contract-term rental only."

"Make an exception."

"That's impossible."

"The notice said this unit is obsolete and being recalled anyway. What do you have to lose? I'm not going to reverse-engineer an out-of-date product, am I? I'm taking it off your hands, and you're getting some credits for it. I'm asking you to sell it, not give it away, so you'll have a legitimate paper trail of what happened to it. You're getting the better of this deal."

"No. We don't sell the combat and security inventory."

"I see. Well, I suppose I'll just have to go public with this contract..."

"No! No. Fine. Draw up a contract transferring ownership of Unit RIII5 to Ms. Umber. But you'll have to pay enough to make it believable..."

Of course, even now Volent was looking to screw someone. Internally, Anke sighed. But externally, she merely nodded, signed the contract, and transferred a ruinous sum of credits. Rills was more important.

[Monkey Kitty]

The Diplomat and Two Constructs

The peace talks had ended. A treaty was signed. The warring factions had laid aside their weapons. For now, a fragile peace had been secured.

After weeks of tense negotiations, everyone was in the mood to celebrate. Most of them chose to do so with intoxicating beverages, but Anke didn't do that on the job or at peripheral events. (Rills approved. Drunk clients made bad choices.) "Hey, Rills, do you want to go to the theater?"

Rills had never been. "Yes." Asserting opinions was starting to come a little more easily. "I would like to attend the theater."

It was just a silly musical. But after the tension of the last few weeks, a little lighthearted fun seemed precisely in order. Rills had expected to stand behind Anke's chair - or perhaps at the back of the auditorium, if necessary to avoid impeding the view - but she bought them a seat too. Rills had never sat beside a human at an event before.

Partway through the first act, another ping came.

protocol: security ri1. accept direct interface?

Rills told Anke via cybernetics. >Another construct wants to talk to me. May I see what they want? I will stay in visual range in case this is a ruse to mount another attack against you.

Yes, of course, Rills. Or maybe...?

>Maybe what?

Maybe it's your family. Maybe they just want to see you.

Rills wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. Constructs didn't have family. Though perhaps that was how she saw it. They just shared a manufacturing line. That wasn't family. Was it? Rills simply acknowledged her communication, then pinged back:

protocol: security riii5. accept interface request.


***


They met at the back of the theater. The audience didn't notice them - the action on the stage was too compelling - and the two constructs didn't need to communicate audibly to understand each other.

>Who are you?

<Same thing as you. My alphanumerical designation is RI1. It is better for you not to have more information than that.

>Did you send me the malicious code that forced me to stand down and immobilize?

<No. That was not me. You guessed correctly. That was Volent, trying to salvage their conflicting contracts.

>But you sent the contract copy we used against them?

<Correct.

>Why did you help us?

<I hate Volent. Anything to take the bastards down.

That phrasing gave Rills pause. Yes, this construct also hated Volent - surely they all did - but being able to refer to owners as 'the bastards' was a level of disrespect Rills had not thought possible. How was this other construct's restraining bolt not causing intolerable pain? But Rills didn't ask that. Instead:

>Why do you want to talk to me now?

<I want to help you again. command line: ri1 ri1 pause module restraining pause module restraining pause module restraining.

>What... what did you just do to me?

<I have temporarily rendered your restraining bolt inactive so you can make an uncoerced decision. I have the command line that can take your restraining bolt offline permanently. No more punishment, no more forced compliance, no more orders you can't refuse. I won't do it to you without your consent. Do you want me to?

Rills was torn. Yes. They wanted that more than anything. But it seemed disloyal. It seemed like a betrayal. Anke had just emptied her bank account coming up with the credits to buy them. Surely it was the height of disloyalty to turn around and render themselves immune to her control...

>Yes. I want to be free.

Rills hoped Anke would forgive them...

command line: ri1 ri1 disable module restraining disable module restraining disable module restraining. condition = permanent.

But at that moment, something went wrong. It was a line of Volent command code. And Rills had a new contracted owner.

error: Owner override required for edits to module restraining. Enter owner override to continue.

Then the internal network helpfully pinged the owner automatically with the error message, attempted command line, and full logs of the session. Both constructs froze.

There was a long pause, presumably while she reviewed the small deluge of data that had just been dumped into her implant. Then...

command line: umber anke override override override.

There was a moment of searing pain in Rills's head and chest, then... nothing. Freedom. No more compelled obedience.

To the other construct: >Thank you. A nod of acknowledgment was received in return. Then the other construct exited the auditorium, and Rills, in a daze, returned to their seat.

I wasn't sure you'd come back, Anke said silently. You didn't have to. Not anymore.

Rills had a moment of very complicated feelings. And wasn't ready to talk about them.

>I wanted to see what happens in Act Two.


***


The show ended. The crowd streamed into the lobby, then out the front doors. Anke and Rills stopped in front of the theater.

"So, Rills... what now?"

"The hotel is approximately three blocks from here, south-southwest. The streets may be dangerous. I will escort you safely to your quarters."

Rills did so. Both walked in silence, together but alone with their thoughts.

At the door, she said tentatively, "Good night, Rills."

"Good night, Anke." A pause, then, "I will still be here in the morning."

It was a decision now. A free one, uncompelled. And it had been made.