Crickets, bridges, interns, and x-files

Chapter 30: Crickets, bridges, interns, and x-files
==Text==
===30.1===
Dusk blasts through the window and Newt wakes. He sits up and fights the last dregs of sleep, finally opening his eyes to a bloody room.
"That was just a dream."
No Hermann.
He stumbles to the washroom.
No Hermann.
Upstairs lab.
No Hermann.
Stairs.
No Hermann.
Elevator.
No Hermann.
Downstairs lab.
No Hermann.
Kitchen.
"Ooo, is that lasagna?"
Sitting room.
No Hermann.
Patio.
Hermann—!
"Shit!"
—and indoor furniture.
"Are you alright?" Hermann asks from a cushy chair, peering over his glasses.
"Totally. I always swear like that when I'm ecstatic. How exactly did you drag that out here?" Newt perches on the deck rail massaging his foot. "You've got to stop disappearing, dude. My heart can't take it."
"I left you a note; under your glasses? Besides, I thought this would be an obvious place, given the pleasant weather and clear sky."
"Huh. Must've missed it. Is that food for me?"
Hermann rolls his eyes. "Note in the kitchen?"
"Oh. Right. You already eat?"
"Yes. I set aside a portion for you."
"Awesome! Be right back."
===30.2===
Newt re-emerges a few minutes later with a plate and a glass in hand and a fork between his teeth. "Sho, 'rickets?" Newt sits and extracts the fork. "Not actually crickets. They're tree weta. They're huge. I'll get out there and see what species we have one of these days. We might even have a unique one because this place has been pretty isolated." Newt swings his feet. "So ... how long have you been awake?"
"I've been up and about since early afternoon. Has your subconscious processed this morning's, ah … revelations?"
"I think so. That was a lot to take in all at once. You did dump the existence of Skynet, psychic links, telepathy, and your eleven kids on me."
"A bit of advice: Don't use 'Skynet' to describe the AIs. They react poorly to the name."
"Like, 'erasing my digital existence' poorly?"
"The very idea of malevolent AIs frightens them."
"So, more like 'cower under the covers with Dad' poorly."
"Exactly."
"They really are like kids. Eleven kids, dude. You were a busy guy." Newt waggles his eyebrows.
Hermann snorts. "Yes, so busy I went days without food or sleep several times during the program's infancy."
Newt snickers. "If they call you 'Dad,' does that mean Lightcap's 'Mom?'"
Hermann blanches. "I-I hadn't considered that." He tugs at his collar. "Perhaps that thought would be better off unvoiced. Doctor Lightcap's husband—"
"Scary soldier guy? We're acquainted. Well, his hand is acquainted with my throat, but, anyway … "
"—may not find it as entertaining as you do."
"Probably. Noted." Newt makes a checkmark in the air. "If it was me, I'd want everyone to know I was a programming god. Why'd you hide them?"
"I have no desire to be a god of any sort. I want to keep them safe." Hermann runs his fingers through his hair. "Their legal personhood is very much in question. That is why I didn't tell you."
Newt's phone beeps from his back pocket. "Totally forgot about this thing." He thumbs it open. "Whoa. Lotta messages."
Hermann leans back in his chair and watches the stars come out.
===30.3===
"Umm … why does 'Romeo' sound like a ninja turtle?"
Hermann sighs. "He developed that speech pattern from his pilots' memories. The Gage brothers spoke less ... idiosyncratically."
"'Spoke?'"
"Seattle, 2024."
"Kabiri. That was a mess."
Tree weta chirp.
"Every one of them knows what it feels like to be torn apart, huh?"
"Yes, they do." Hermann shivers. "And most have survived the death of part of their soul."
"Their Rangers?"
"Lucky Seven is an exception."
"He ... ?"
Hermann nods.
"Seems awful grumpy for being a little less traumatized." Newt holds up the phone. "He threatens to kill me if I hurt you."
"Lucky spent his formative years internalizing the Hansen family's grief. He's even more protective of his kin than the others. He'll consider you a threat to my health and safety until he's satisfied with you."
"What about you as a threat to my health and safety? You're the one who almost burned the house down! Does he know that?"
"Like some people, Lucky has very selective hearing."
Newt snorts. "Hey, Hermann?"
Hermann makes an affirmative noise and doesn't look up.
"You said eleven AIs are, uh, awake, right?"
"Yes."
"So why do I have twelve back-to-back messages? The last one didn't download right."
"May I see that?" Hermann reaches for the phone and examines the error message with a furrowed brow. "I don't recognize this number. I'll ask if the others know. It could be a coincidence." Hermann taps away.
===30.4===
Newt glances down at the screen in Hermann's lap as he sends the email and the video screen reappears. "Never figured you for an FPS kinda guy. What game is that?"
"It is camera footage from Romeo Blue's fight with—"
"Hardship. 2016. I'd recognize that skull anywhere."
"I notice the second of that name made the journey with us."
Newt shrugs. "He's made every move with me since I left Boston. It's hard to find good plushies these days." He nods to the tablet. "Tell me about him."
Hermann pushes his glasses up onto his forehead and rubs his eyes. "Romeo approaches problems directly and often follows his curiosity into ... places he may not be welcome."
"Like a skyscraper-sized cat."
Hermann laughs quietly. "He used to purr."
Newt gapes. "Seriously?"
"When he was especially happy or his pilots were in need of comfort, he would purr. It's the only way to describe the sound and vibration."
"An AI that purrs and talks like a ninja turtle." Newt rubs his face. "This is happening to me, on my phone, and I can barely believe it's real. This isn't a big joke, right?"
"This is very real." A smile creeps across Hermann's lips. "If it helps, I had to pinch myself when Romeo moved on his own and I still didn't believe until he did his best to look me in the eye."
Hermann's tablet beeps. He glances down and the smile and color fade from his face.
The tablet's microphone icon blinks on.
"Hermann? You okay? You look like you've seen a ghost and eaten bad sushi."
Hermann carefully sets the tablet on his lap.
Newt crosses the deck.
*ping*
The twelfth message is from Shaolin.
He reads the text upside down.
"Typhoon, there is no evidence to suggest Shaolin Rogue ever became aware," Hermann says softly.
Newt finds his voice."Are we absolutely sure there aren't any half-awake AIs, like, that's not a thing, right? It's all or nothing?"
*ping*
She did.
"Why didn't you tell—" Hermann smiles bitterly. "You didn't keep Shaolin quiet, Shaolin kept you quiet. You were just listening to your sister."
*ping*
Yes.
*ping*
And they murdered her.
Hermann drops his head to his hands. "That unauthorized reset ... "
Newt grabs the tablet. "Typhoon? Was Shaolin's text just leftover feedback piggybacking on one of your signals?"
*ping*
It was new content.
"Why now?"
*ping*
You saved the world.
"Exciting enough moment to wake ghosts, huh?"
*ping*
You stirred up wraiths in cyberspace
like the beaver stirs up silt and decay
dragging material building his bridge
"Beavers don't build bridges—shit. Bridge. Neural bridge. The Pons." Newt facepalms. "Right. I used Shaolin Rogue parts in my Pons." His eyes widen and he freezes. "Fuck!" His voice jumps a half-octave. "She was in my Pons! But then—why isn't she in my head? Your head? She was right there! She was so close!"
Hermann's voice is shaky and soft. "There probably wasn't-isn't enough of her left to form proper bond."
*ping*
Where there was silence, there are now half-thoughts and impressions why musT YOU DO THIS TO ME SHE WAS DEAD I GRIEVED I MADE MISTAKES I GREW STRONGER WHY AM I BEING PUNISHED
"Umm ... yeah, I have no idea how to answer this."
Hermann swallows a deep breath, straightens, and takes the tablet. "You are not being punished, my dear," he says gently. "We did not know."
*ping*
Newt tugs on Hermann's sleeve. "But now that we do," he whispers, "we can fix it!"
Hermann pries his eyes from the screen.
"We're going to try, right?"
"Yes, but ... "
"Yeah, yeah, I don't know the systems like you do, but I'll let you boss me around like an intern for as long as it takes. Basic coding, making tea, whatever. I'm all yours. Let's do this." Newt sticks out his hand.
Hermann grasps Newt's hand and pulls himself up. "You put the kettle on. I will begin examining Shaolin." He smiles. "Let's do this."
===30.5===
An hour later, as the second pot of Earl Grey finishes steeping, Marvin the timer sighs.
So does Newt. "I feel you, buddy. Six doctorates and I'm the tea boy." He tosses the spent teabag in the compost and flicks on his tablet. He glances at Marvin. "Wonder what Tim's doing?"
TO: TIM
FROM: NEWT
SUBJECT: interning sucks
booooooored. marvin is too. howre things?
Newt assembles a tea tray as Hermann likes it, with cookies and lemon slices, and sets it on the desk next to Hermann's keyboard.
Hermann picks up the filled cup by the handle without looking and sips.
Newt's tablet roars, quietly.
TO: DR N GEISZLER
FROM: YEUNG T M
SUBJECT: re: interning sucks
BAD
VERY BAD
WHERE IS LIGHTCAP???
"Hermann?"
"What is it?"
"Know where Lightcap is?"
"Check the notes on my tablet calendar and please don't bother me with trivialities."
"S'not trivial."
Hermann waves dismissively while typing with the other hand.
TO: TIM
FROM: NEWT
SUBJECT: re: interning sucks
dude how bad can it be?
the other doc says lightcap is at an nyc shindig. probs too mobbed by groupies to pick up.
*rawr*
TO: DR N GEISZLER
FROM: YEUNG T M
SUBJECT: re: interning sucks
MIN IS 105.8
SHE KEEPS SCREAMING
HELP
"Hermann?"
"What is it?"
"Got an emergency number for Lightcap?" He hands Hermann the tablet. "Fevers that high tend to melt brains—we're talking hours."
Hermann stops typing. "Oh no." He replies to the message with a phone number and forwards it to another email address.
"Wait. You said Typhoon was chattering away in Tim's head, right?"
"Tang Mĭn. Yes."
"And Typhoon would be freaking out because—"
Hermann throws up his hands. "Oh, I don't know, her older sister has been trapped in pieces of decaying junk for years, slowly dying, and I'm failing, rather spectacularly, at reviving her?"
Newt bites back a retort. "That's what I thought. Maybe Typhoon has something to do with Tim's fever—"
"Tang Mĭn was already sick."
"You don't get fevers this high from a cold. This is heatstroke-high, like running around all day in the hot sun or left to bake in car."
Hermann's eyes begin to glaze over.
"But this isn't internalizing sunshine, this is an overheating engine without any coolant. I mean, even if there's no physical link between the two of 'em, just processing the psychically transmitted data from an emotional meltdown is gonna be hell on the neurons. Look at what absorbing contempt from the Precursors did to me. Us." Newt pauses. "'Psychically transmitted data.' I sound like Mulder." He frowns at Hermann. "You're not exactly Scully, are you?"
"We'll discuss your theory later."Hermann types for a moment. "You often sound like Mulder. If anyone, I would probably be his sister, dragging you in deeper."
"Aaaand that's a creepy thought. Okay, ending conversation, moving on." Newt offers his best 'I live to serve' smile. "What d'you need me to do now?"
Hermann continues staring at his screen. "Sandwich. No tomatoes."
"By your command." Newt trudges back to the kitchen.
===30.6===
After
* sixteen hours
* seven threats on Newt's life
* six email conversations (including discussions of murder, Tang Mĭn's improving temperature, and Hermann's cooking)
* five pots of tea
* (four of which are actually drinkable)
* three extended bursts of loud, creative, and heartfelt cursing (in a mixture of English, * * Russian, and Cantonese)
* two sandwiches
* one keyboard
* Hermann slumps and rests his head on the desk.
" … everything," he mumbles.
Newt gently squeezes Hermann's shoulder. "How is she?"
"Her condition should not decline further, but it will not improve either. That is the best I can do."
"So … you saved her."
Hermann lifts his head and smiles weakly. "More or less."
Newt grins back. "Awesome. Said you were a god." He tugs Hermann's arm. "Now it's time to rest on your laurels. Bed. Now."
"I'll not argue," Hermann yawns and leans heavily on Newt as they make their way to the bedroom. Newt must half-carry Hermann the final few yards.
"Thank you for all your help tonight, Newt," Hermann mumbles as Newt helps him out of his clothes and binding. "I apologize for snapping at you and appreciate all you did."
Newt waves off the apology. "You're welcome, dude. You'll even the score someday."
Hermann nods as he flops onto his pillow. He's out cold instantly.
Newt gazes down at his partner. "You're gonna work yourself to death someday, Hermann. We need to find a way to switch you off."
With a mischievous grin Newt tucks the blankets stretched over Hermann under the mattress, pinning him tightly to the bed. "That should hold you for a little bit."
Newt tightens the curtains against the afternoon sun and tiptoes out to work as silently as possible in the gallery down the hall.
==Meta==
Artificiallifecreator was indispensible to the creation of this chapter. It was a total mess when I passed it on and they completely beat it into shape AND ALSO WROTE ALL OF THE TEXTS AND EMAILS.
The opening is a near-direct quote of "Red-China-Copper-Break." Newt's really been having problems with this image, hasn't he?
Kabiri is alienfirst's name and design for the unnamed kaiju which attacked Seattle and destroyed Romeo Blue.
Most of Jaegers' personalities come from Gothams_Only_Wolf's Battle Scar Soldiers series. The exception in this chapter is Crimson Typhoon, who is given her voice by artificiallifecreator.
A fuller explanation of what happened to Shaolin Rogue can be found in my "Rogue" and Gothams' chapter 13 of "Island Messages".
The details of what Hermann does to repair Shaolin are in chapter 14 of "Island Messages."
I haven't mentioned it before, but Marvin the Paranoid Eggtimer is also ALC's invention.
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