Silver (ficlet)

A new addition to the family. 
Chuck yawns at the far end of the holodeck, [off-colour] and washed out through the projected robot.
"Isn't quite as exciting as our last demolition gig, ay?" Jackson grins as he and Logan shift an I-beam in the model disaster site. 
"Yea, Kaiju guts. Ex-citing."
Logan rolls his eyes and snorts.
""A little neater, please,"" says Caitlin over the open comm—
A crash and holographic debris tumbles down; the projection flashes red and the acromion rig stalls.
Blue yells, ""Sorry!""
""You guys okay?"" asks Caitlin.
Logan nods.
"We're fine," says Jackson.
""They're fine,"" says Caitlin. ""Up you go, Chip.""
The projection [chimes the all-clear and returns to blue as] the rig whirs back to life.
"Nice crash landing, there," says Jackson.
Blue cringes. ""Sorry about that, Chip."" 
Chuck snorts.
""Still need to work on your stacking skills.""
"Thought the point is to clear the mess fast as we can without setting off a crapalanche," Jackson huffs.
"Would totally defeat the purpose if your pile falls on someone," points out Chuck.
"Speed or precision: pick one."
"Since the first one's outta the question, you'd think we could get the second."
Logan makes an obscene gesture.
""We saw that, you two. Chip mapped /perfectly.""
Regardless, Logan contemplates additional sass.
Jackson gives him a Look. "Which means we'll hafta do this with the full interface tomorrow, yea?"
"You got it," says Chuck.
::Whee.::
They roll their shoulders; Jackson flexes his hands and the stiff capture gloves. "The lumbar rig blows."
""Are they whining?""
"Of course."
"Oi!"
""You're at the cutting edge of research!""
::Boldly going where no one's gone before.::
""Exactly!""
Jackson shoves Logan.
""Hey! None of that! Behave!""
"At least when you're hooked up," Chuck amends.
""Yeah, when you're hooked up,"" Caitlin agrees. ""Or around the tech. But you know that; you're Rangers.""
Chuck chokes on a laugh.
"What?" Jackson sighs.
"You're Rescue Rangers!"
"Hardy har har," grumbles Jackson. "Keep it up and /your gonna need rescuing, you—"
""What was that?""
"Nothin'.""
Caitlin huffs. "Should we leave 'em tied up for a while, Chuck? Teach 'em some manners?""
"Hmm." Chuck purses her lips, taps her stylus against her chin; makes a show of considering the proposal. "Nah. Jackson'd probably get a kick outta it. /Completely miss the point."
"Care to test that theory, Rapunzel?"
Logan makes a face. ::Lalalalala!::
"In your dreams—"
Silver flashes in Jackson's mind.
A little spot of /black-green-blue screams—
Logan crashes to the floor—
Plastic clatters against tile.
""CCM's engaged— Talk to me, people!""
—Jackson dives after him; Logan curls tightly into himself, teeth clenched and unbreathing, hands clawing at the neural interface on his head. 
""Chuck! What's happening?!""
Chuck's standing, tablet in pieces by her feet, eyes dark and unseeing.
""/Chuck!""
"Logan's down!" Jackson shouts; scrabbles at the squid cap and wrenches it off
/Black-green-blue wails.
Logan's complexion takes on a blue tint.
""Shit! Don't move him!""
Jackson flinches—his right eye clamps shut—and rips off his own connections.
/Black-green-blue stretches and blurs.
""And Chuck?""
"She-she's just standing there."
""Goddamnit! Blue, ice, upstairs, quick as you can.""
A door slams.
""Doc's on her way,"" reports Blue.
Another door slams.
"C'mon, breathe, Logan. Don't you /dare pass out on me." Jackson winks away proto-tears.
Logan gulps air.
Good boy. Keep it up." Jackson takes a deep breath, presses his watering eye.
/Silver-light darts across his memories, ducks under his Academy graduation.
Logan's gasping, but his color's creeping back to normal.
Chuck's hand spasms into a fist.
/Black-green-blue whimpers.
"And what the fuck's wrong with you?" spits Jackson, rubbing gentle circles on Logan's back.
Chuck's nose twitches.
Jackson touches his.
His fingers come away bloody. Jackson blinks rapidly. "Oh." Looks up at Chuck. "/Shite."
/Black-green-blue flickers nervously.
/Silver-light peeks out.
Caitlin bursts in and skids to Jackson, grabbing for his face—
He pushes her away, toward Logan. "Him!"
—peels open first one eye, then the other. "Pupil response is normal ... no ruptured veins ... no other external signs of neural overload ...." She sits back on her heels, reaches again for Jackson.
"Uh, Doc, I've got ice?" says Blue.
"Chuck. A cube in each hand, maybe some in her shirt."
"Ookay."
Jackson mostly remembers how to breathe.
"I can't get her hand open," says Blue.
"Then tape it on or something."
"On it." Blue dumps the rest of the cup down Chuck's shirt and sets off in search of tape.
Caitlin exhales. "So. You've got the standard symptoms, but your pupils are responding properly." She huffs. "I've got no idea what's going on. Monkey!"
No response.
"/Chuck!"
Blue reappears with tape. "Sorry I took so long."
"Where were you?!"
["Getting tape? And tissues." She slides Jackson a box.
"Thanks," he replies, pressing a handful to his nose.]
"Getting—?" Caitlin frowns.
Jackson smiles weakly. "She mixes us up all the time."
"She's black," Blue snaps. "I'm brown. At least /you're from the same place."
Caitlin gestures towards Jackson: 'Really?'
Blue's features dull. "I-I'll go prep the MRI."
"Thanks," says Caitlin.
Blue smiles—almost—and scurries from the room.
"And once again we prove that everything in this lab can kill you." Jackson glances at the sodden lump in his hand. "Thought that setup was supposed to be 'perfectly safe'." 
"It's as safe as we can make it, but nothing's ever /perfectly safe." She rushes on, "The CCM kicked in and there was an energy spike—it's like combat data from /Coyote—"
"So what did—"
/Black-green-blue whines.
/Silver-light creeps out, glows brighter, almost warm.
"Did you see, smell, taste, or feel anything out of the ordinary before Logan passed out?"
$Didn't faint,:: Logan huffs.
Caitlin rolls her eyes. "Of course you didn't." 
$/Didn't.:: 
"Looks like your ego took quite the hit, but your language centers seem fine. Both hands, too!" Sits up straight. "Excellent!"
$Hooray for me.::
Ice clicks to the floor.
Chuck looks down, frowns.
"Monkey?" Caitlin says.
Chuck raises her head slowly.
"You had a flashback."
Chuck nods.
"C'mere." Caitlin pats the floor.
One careful step after another and then Chuck drops beside her in a controlled fall.
"Nicely done," smiles Caitlin. "So, Joneses. Anything weird in the Drift?"
$Silver light.::
"Yea. Like a li'l fish."
"Have you guys seen lights before?"
"'s how we know each other in there. He's 'black, green, and blue'. But not like that—it's ...."
"You need to be a poet?"
"Yea."
::He's gold.:: 
"And you're /sure this silver light is a new thing: not just one of you changing it up?"
::Definitely.::
"Not your Spare, either?"
::She was violet.::
"Feels like ... like someone new in here," Jackson gestures vaguely to his head, "stumblin' 'round."
::Fucking /hurt.::
Silver light dives under /Vulcan's first fight.
"What kind of hurt?"
">Ever get punched in the head by a Kaidanovsky?" Logan rasps.
"No, but I can sorta imagine it."
::Feels like that.::
Caitlin winces. "Either of you still seeing this light?"
::Not since the cap came off.::
"'s playin' hide-'n-seek in my memory now," answers Jackson.
Silver light glows a little brighter.
Caitlin blinks.
Blue pokes her head back into the holodeck. "MRI's ready!"
Caitlin presses her lips together.
"Doc?"
She twists around. "Can I ask you to leave? For the day? I'll still pay-,"
"Sure, definitely."
"And if anyone asks, say 'Chip broke', or-"
"'Not to worry'? Got it." She waves, and a few moments later they hear the main door close.
"Okay." Caitlin presses her hands flat to her legs. "That's done. Monkey?"
Chuck, brow still furrowed, finds Caitlin.
"Will you check if there are any neurosurgeons available, preferably right now?"
"Where?" Chuck croaks.
"Local hospitals and schools. Would you like me to write it down?"
"Check local hospitals and schools for a neurosurgeon available at this time."
"Got it in one."
Chuck nods, trudges from the room.
"It's bad?"
"Weelll, it may, kinda, perhaps, hopefully not turn out to be an emergency."
Jackson swallows. "Your afraid my brain's bleeding."
"There's a /small chance—"
Jackson lets his eyes fall shut. "Just—just leave it."
Silver light, /black-green-blue whimper.
Logan pushes himself to sitting with a whine, presses against Jackson's side.
Chuck reappears and hands over a sticky note.
"University Hospital, 40 minutes." Caitlin beams. "Well done, Chuck." Says to Jackson, "We can get a basic scan done before then—"
"'m not going anywhere hooked up like this."
"And I wouldn't want you to. Chuck—" Caitlin tilts her head toward the right shoulder clasp, "—can you get that side, please?" and reaches for the closure on his left. "Thanks for that."
Silver light glides through Jackson's first sketchbook, fades away.
Jackson shakes his head.
Chuck's hands stop on the elbow links.
"What was that?" asks Caitlin.
"Light again," he croaks.
Logan pales.
Chuck's mouth tightens; she returns to—fumbles—the clasps attaching the gloves.
"Take it easy, Rapunzel. Speed isn't everything." His smile's weak.
A very, very unimpressed look.
Jackson grabs her hand, squeezes. "'s'okay, Chuck."
She stares at their hands for a moment and then she pointedly takes a hold of his finger and plucks his hand off of hers.
"Can't get rid of me that easy."
Chuck keeps at the clasps.
"I ... I have to go talk to someone," declares Caitlin. "Be right back." She hops to her feet, leaving half of Jackson's interface in place, and strides out.
Three sets of eyes blink.
Chuck shakes her head, 'crazy person'.
"Hope that's a good sign," says Jackson.
Logan crosses his fingers.
And they wait.
.
Caitlin leans through the door. "Everyone still—? Good! Hey, Monkey?" 
To say Chuck 'blinks' would imply she could open her eyes all the way, so she does something similar and twists around. 
"Will you tell them about how I email 'Sweetie' and Sergio, please?" 
Chuck nods. 
"Thank you~!" And she's gone. 
"Caitlin emails Sergio and 'Sweetie'," explains Chuck.
"That doesn't help at all," replies Jackson. 
Chuck huffs, snaps open a clasp with a little more force than necessary. "Caitlin. Emails. Sergio. /And. Sweetie." 
::Affair?::
And Logan's grown another head. 
Caitlin's back. "Any questions?" 
"Are you having an affair?" asks Jackson. 
"What? No! Chuck—"
"You email Sergio the same stuff you do Sweetie." 
"And why do I do that?"
"'cause Sweetie isn't Sergio."
"So what is he?"
"An AI." 
"Exactly." Caitlin smiles. "Keep on that." And she's gone again. 
"So it's a text-parsing bot or something?" 
"Nope." 
"Then why does she do it?"
"Wants to share stuff with him." 
"Ye keep saying 'him'. Since when do AIs have gender pronouns?"
"The Mark Is prefer 'him'."
"Mark Is?"
::Jaegers?::
"Yep." Except it sounds like 'duh'.
"Sweetie the AI is a Mark I Jaeger?"
"Guess so." More 'duh'.
::Does he write back?::
"Of course." Even more 'duh'.
Logan passes Jackson another wad of tissues.
"Thanks." Jackson mops fresh blood from under his nose. "{Hold on.} Why're we talking about pet AIs when I'm on the floor bleeding?"
"Because Caitlin said to."
Logan rolls his eyes.
Caitlin reappears. "How far've we gotten?"
"We've made it to 'Sweetie is a Mark I Jaeger AI.'"
$Who's a 'him' and replies to email.::
"Progress!" Caitlin claps her hands.
"Why tell us 'bout this now?"
$Shouldn't we be testin' him?::
"I powered down the MRI." She shrugs. "Pretty certain he's not dying."
$You said the rig was safe.:: Logan crosses his arms.
"The rig only /enabled what happened, it didn't cause it."
"Then what did?" asks Jackson. "Sweetie?"
Chuck watches the verbal volleys.
"Not Sweetie. Coyote."
">As in /Coyote Tango?"
"The very one."
"Reused parts in the rig and they glitched?"
Chuck sighs. "Coyote's like Sweetie."
Jackson narrows his eyes. "You're saying an old Jaeger AI tried to fry us."
"/No!" Caitlin takes a breath. "I'm saying—" 
"I want cake," states Chuck, getting awkwardly to her feet. 
"Oh no you don't." Jackson grabs her belt and yanks her back down—
She wobbles, lands on—and knocks over—Jackson. 
Caitlin covers her face. "I, uh, talking. Try not to completely destroy the rig." She flees. 
Chuck manages to escape, except her hair's caught in a tendon on Jackson's rig. 
"Uh, lemme—" [He] tries to help with his other hand.
Logan leans over to help.
Chuck rolls her eyes, wraps the tail of her braid twice around her hand, and pulls. 
The humerus and tendon snap. 
"/Fuck!"
"Huh." Chuck looks at her hair, shrugs, and stands. "Time for cake." 
They watch her leave. 
Jackson rubs the new bruises on his arm.
">Jack?"
"Yea?"
">Din't she almost strangle you once?"
"She almost /hanged me once."
">With her hair."
"Uh huh."
Caitlin reappears. "How'd we do?" Frowns. "Where's Chuck?" 
::Cake.::
"She broke the rig with her hair."
"Isn't that cool?" Caitlin blinks at Jackson. "Didn't she try to strangle you once with it?"
"Everyone's making a fuss," grumbles Jackson.
She looks down the hall. "Hope she brings me some. Chuck?"
$You're fine.::
""Yeff?"" 
"Can I have cake, too, please?"
"Why'd you think that?"
""Fure."" 
"Joneses, too!"
::Your nerd's showing.::
A beat. ""Fime."" 
Jackson huffs.
They reconvene with three pieces of confetti cake—one extra large—two forks, a spoon, and a pastry knife. 
"I'll get another fork," says Caitlin. 
["No!"]
But she's already whistling down the hall. 
"Chuck?"
"Mmm?"
"Did an old AI try to fry us?"
This stumps Chuck. 
::Is it an old AI?:: tries Logan. 
"Yes."
"Did it try to kill us?"
["Dunno."] 
"So what happened?" 
"CCM engaged." 
Logan flops backwards. 
"Why did the CCM engage?"
"Pilot death, uh, other stuff."
"But we're not dead." 
"Thought you were."
Jackson takes a deep breath. "Not anymore." 
Chuck giggles. "Like Ashao."
Caitlin says, "You get to call her Ashao?" 
"Ashao likes me."
"You're very likable," says Caitlin. 
Her [mobile] rings. 
"Gimme a sec," Caitlin apologizes. 
"Yea. Likable. Who's Ashao?" asks Jackson. 
"Daisy's sister."
"And Daisy ...?"
"~Dai-sy Dai-sy give me your an-swer [true~."] Chuck giggles again. 
"Like HAL?" asks Jackson. 
"Hey, you're good!" beams Chuck. 
Logan tugs on Jackson's shirt. 
"What?"
">Self-aware?" 
"Hey, Chuck?"
"Yup?" 
"Is Daisy an AI?"
"Yup, and a 'Tang brat." She wrinkles her nose. "Mister Underworld has a love-hate relationship with 'em all." 
::Ignoring half of that.::
"Yea." Jackson turns back to Chuck. "Is Daisy a self-aware AI?" 
"Within one sixteenth of a picosecond," she boasts. 
Logan looks to Jackson—
"/Portal reference."
—rolls his eyes. ::Nerds.::
"GLaDOS?" Frowns. "Did Daisy try to kill someone?" 
"Yup."
"Did 'Sweetie'?"
"Nope." 
"Is 'Sweetie', uh, self-aware?" 
"Yup." 
Jackson takes a deep breath. "Is Coyote also a self-aware Jaeger AI?" 
"Yup." 
"Did Coyote try to kill us?"
"Nope." Laughs quietly. "Coyote's a puppy." Misses her plate with her fork, snickers. "Like /Rahleigh." 
"How many self-aware Jaeger AIs are there?" 
Chuck counts on her fingers, runs out, balances her plate on her knee, continues with her other hand, looks between the two. "More than ten."
Cake hits the floor.
"How do you know?"
"Ran out of fingers." 
Logan throws up his arms. 
"How do you know how many there are?"
"They chat." Chuck flattens her cake against the floor. "Chit chat chit chat. Allllways chattering." Closes her hand. "Like webcams, too." Takes a mouthful of smooshed cake, chews a bit, covers her mouth and hits herself in the face. "Goo' cake. Dai'y likes cake, too."
"Did Daisy kill anyone?"
"Almost." Swallows. "Misses-under-ssstand-duh-ing. Misunderstanding. Pur-/rettty sure Tangy Tim was /spooked." More cake.
"Tang Min?"
"'at's the one. Tang Min"
::Who else?::
"Who else?"
"Tang Min's not an AI. She's a hoooooman." 
"What other Jaegers have—" Jackson squints. "—self-aware AIs?" Aside, to Logan, "Can't believe I'm saying that out loud." 
::Me, neither.::
"There's /Danger!" She giggles and almost falls over. "That's how Dai-/sy says it. The goofs got a whooole bunch of bumper stickers and ...." She frowns. "Uh, Daaaan-ger. Danger! was one of ... whatever Danger! was one of. And Ashao. And Daisy. And Coyote and Brawler. And Nymmm-pho—" She laughs. "Nympho." Clears her throat. "Nymphodora. And ...." Thinks for a moment, then sings, "~In the jun-gle / the might-y jun-gle / the li-on sleeeeeeps to-niiiiiiiight~. And Daisy and Ashao. Danger!. Maria. Brawly." Snorts. "Gym leader of Dewford Town. Coyote." 
"How's it going?" asks Caitlin, [mobile] pressed to her ear.
::At least ten-:: Logan frowns. 
"At least ten AIs are self-aware?"
"Twelve. Maybe thirteen."
"Goo' cake."
"Really is. Well done, Chuck."
She hums. 
"Why 'maybe thirteen'?"
"Still getting the deets." >should probably be Caitlin, because why would Chuck know we're dealing with a possible new AI or what Caitlin's doing on the phone?' thaat is a very good point.<
Chuck snorts, covers her mouth. "There's a sprinkle up my nose." 
::Snot'll be colorful.::
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