text; un: firecracker

[cactusy]

1. How hard does this place go with simulating bodily functions? We have to eat and expel waste, but do we menstruate? Get colds? Get infections? Get cancer? Get pregnant?

2. If our robot overlord is all about crime and punishment, what happens if we kill someone here?

Comments

[cactusy]

Just like home.

[She murmurs, giving Bear's neck another good scruff - and then reaching up to grab Root's wrist, trying to tug her back down to their level. C'mere.]

You do it with the fancy tablets?

[computation]

[ Aw, okay. Root crouches down again with a tolerant smile, ruffling Bear's ears and then ruffling Shaw's hair one hand each with the exact same kind of energy. ]

Yeah. It's pretty easy since I built some myself. Spock and Kirk came up with the initial design -- they call them dark web communicators, which is technically true but funny because there's absolutely nothing illicit going on in the secret messages.

[ She checked. It was kind of disappointing, really. ]

[cactusy]

[Shaw swats irritably at her hand (there are limits to her willingness to be manhandled, thank you), then immediately negates the effect by lightly leaning her shoulder into Root's.]

Nothing illicit, meaning you haven't started anything? That's a surprise.

[computation]

Everybody on the dark net here is either a literal superhero at home or a dedicated pacifist.

[ Seriously -- she meant it that it was disappointing. ]

Also, I've been a little busy.

[cactusy]

Mm, yeah. Amnesiac friends trump most things.

[The amnesiac friend is, naturally, the AI.]

[computation]

Amnes-- oh. I wouldn't call us friends.

[ Root huffs. ]

Friends return phone calls. I haven't heard anything.

[cactusy]

Okay, not to stick up for the second weird AI to kidnapped me and stick me in a simulation--

[Sorry, Root; she's always going to kind of die on this hill.]

But friends return phone calls when they're able to. And it sounds like it's going through some stuff right now.

[computation]

[ Root likes the local A.I. and cares about it/her to a certain extent, but it's far from being the Machine. It is a little humorous in its own right to hear Shaw defending an A.I. at all, though. ]

I'm not talking about the current version, I'm talking about the backup. We have two different copies, and neither of them are talking.

[ She stands up again, distracted with this line of thought, and brushes road dust off her hands. ]

I should probably check in on Quentin, actually. He downloaded one into his brain.

[cactusy]

I-- what?

[Shaw stands too, but out of habit, hangs back with a hand still on Bear's head - she's accustomed to Root rushing off on tasks that she isn't necessarily invited to herself.]

Is Quentin a cyborg?

[computation]

No, he's a telepath -- a really powerful one, like, turn you into a dribbling idiot powerful. Apparently he's stored copies of A.I. in his brain before. Or something like that.

[ Root's had to get used to some pretty wild stuff in her time here, and she reports this with a sense of edged amusement, knowing how it sounds. ]

I like him. [ This is a questionable recommendation coming from Root, maybe, but she hadn't made it lightly. Quentin is sassy, whip-smart, mildly terrifying, and aligns with her feelings on A.I. What more could she want? ]

You and Bear can come if you want.

[cactusy]

He'd better not turn my dog into a dribbling idiot.

[But that's not a no, obviously. Giving Bear - her dog - one last pat, she reaches down and curls the leash around the fingers of one hand, then reaches over and brushes Root's wrist with the fingers of the other.]

You really like showing me off to people, huh.

[computation]

He talks a tough game, but he's a good guy.

[ Root feels pretty confident about that one; she's not worried about him lashing out. Quentin is way too thoughtful and considered beneath the sarcasm to be a concern.

Then she gets fully distracted with Shaw's hand on her wrist, and she uses her free hand to coyly tuck some hair behind an ear. ]

You think now that I've got you, I'm going to waste a single second?

[cactusy]

Well, when you put it like that.

[Shaw mutters, finally bridging the gap and grabbing onto Root's hand. Handholding has never been a form of physical contact that she's considered herself to be any good at - but sometimes, she still thinks about that aborted moment on the safehouse couch, mere hours before Root's death. Looking down at their linked fingers, she adds:]

And, uh-- yeah, back at you.

[Smooth.]

[computation]

[ Even if they weren't here, in a simulation with uncertainty rife around them, Root would feel like this. Like she needs to make every second count, because around the corner is tragedy or death or loss, or all three.

Root's always been aware that they don't have a lot of time.

She clasps her hand tightly with a sideways smile and starts leading the three of them down the street. ]

You're worth showing off, Sameen. I never thought I'd be with someone like this. [ Not like this, where they know they'll always return to one another. ]

[cactusy]

[As they head down the street, Shaw weighs the pros and cons of asking what feels like the obvious follow-up question. Neither of them talk about their pasts much in any context, and while she's curious, she doesn't feel the need to know. But Root can always demure if she wants to, so--]

Have you ever dated anyone before?

[computation]

[ Root's more than capable of deflecting, diverting or denying any question she doesn't want to answer, but she doesn't mind Shaw asking this. She's an open book to her at this point. ]

As myself, you mean? Not like this. No one I'd snap someone's neck for.

[ That was to protect Harold, too, but she doesn't think Shaw would mind that being an added motive. And she thinks the example will get her point across without making things too mushy. ]

[cactusy]

I figured no one like this.

[Shaw says, wryly; this is strange and unique enough so as to be entirely unreplicatable.]

Have you ever had more than, I dunno, five dates with a single person? Dates that weren't for a con? Ever lived with anyone before?

[She's guessing no for the second, and maybe not even for the first.]

[computation]

Definitely never lived with someone -- I hardly ever stay in one place. And calling them dates would be stretching it, but I've had longer-term things before.

[ She's not against casual sex with someone she likes on an ongoing basis, it's just not what she'd wanted with Shaw. And hey, if she's going to bring this up, she's going to get the question lobbied right back at her with intense interest. ]

You?

[cactusy]

I told you about Arthit - study abroad guy from college. He was the last; the one who made me decide, Okay, it's not a fluke, I'm really not cut out for relationships. And the fact that I wasn't even a little bit bothered by the idea of never being in a relationship again seemed like more proof of that, so--

[She shrugs.]

There were two people before him - a few months for each. College is when I started getting asked out, and if they were hot and not bad to be around, I'd think, Sure, why not, we can be dating. It was naive of me.

[Just like thinking she could have been a doctor had been. Her father's death had been her first real indicator that there was something different about her that other people didn't respond well to, but figuring out the shape of that difference had still taken time, and there had been many pitfalls and missteps along the way.]

[computation]

[ Root is still quietly thrilled that she can just ask Shaw a question and she'll get an answer rather than a snarky deflection. She'd expected to die fighting their war, and she had. She really hadn't expected to have this chance afterwards, whatever form it's taking.

Thinking again of how little time they might really have, she offers in return, ] I figured out much sooner that I was never going to be what someone else was looking for. So I never really tried the way you did.

I didn't even finish college.

[ Her mother died, and that was the last hold tying her to anything like a normal life. Root didn't need an education; she needed to escape. And even this much, without adding that personal detail, Root realizes is more than Shaw's ever learned about her, either. Root had read her file in detail but the reverse had never occurred. She'd made sure she doesn't have a file to read. ]

[cactusy]

I'm not sure if you could call what I did 'trying'.

[Her partners had all come to see it that way, eventually. And by certain metrics, she hadn't: she'd passed over a good deal of things that most people consider baseline requirements for a relationship.

But measured by her own standards, in her own way, she'd tried so incredibly hard.]

I'm guessing you never regretted that? You don't seem like the late-in-life degree type.

[computation]

I don't know, [ she says seriously, unconsciously echoing Shaw's thoughts, ] I think you did try. I know how much you try for me.

[ She's not saying that looking for affirmation, she's just acknowledging it, making sure Shaw knows she's noticed and it means something to her. It's hard for her to imagine Shaw not trying at some point to be the person society wanted her to be. That was all over her history from Root's view.

None of us has the life we want, huh?

Root wants to try in return, wants to touch at least a little on some of her background, wants to give. She doesn't want to make the conversation too serious as they take a romantic stroll with their dog through the lightly drifting snow, but she can give something. ]

It's hard to say I regret anything. I don't think I could have done anything differently. [ Root's voice is measured, even, her walking pace steady. ] I lost my faith in people early on. I learned the system doesn't work, that no one is looking out for you, that people will revert to their own interests.

I lost someone, and no one cared. So I wasn't going to care, either.

[cactusy]

That sucks.

[Her word choice might sound flippant, but her tone is completely solemn; she gives Root's hand an encouraging little squeeze.]

You lost your family? Your parents?

[The system doesn't work makes her think either the justice system or foster care; if Root was a kid, she's betting on the latter.]

[computation]

[ She's knocked out of her morose memories a little bit with the hand squeeze and squeezes back, flashes Shaw a sad sidelong smile. ]

A friend. I reported it and everything. [ a beat ] I just did things myself after that.

[ Root thinks that explains her history well enough without getting into a whole sob story about it. ]

[cactusy]

[Which means her parents were already gone by that point, or they sucked. Shaw won't ask which: if Root wants to share all the gritty details, then she will.]

For as long as I'm here, whatever the hell "here" is--

[Another squeeze.]

Even without the Machine, even if it's just me and not the rest of the team - you don't have to do things by yourself now.