Soulless: Awakening - Chapter One
Title: Soulless: Awakening
Chapter: 1/11
Fandom: SS501, cameos of Super Junior, BEAST and SHINee
Pairings: Unknown
Rating: PG-16
Warning: AU, Dystopia, Angst
Summary: Arc I. The year is 400 AM…400 After Man. Humankind is extinct, but they didn’t leave Earth uninhabited. For 400 years androids have lived in their place. Citizens have the same thoughts, same likes and same dislikes as every other android in their model. But even an automated society has its troublemakers. A terrorist group calling themselves the Soulfuls operate outside their model programming and stir unrest. The government advises all citizens to report any Soulful activity immediately, and to stay away from them, for Soulfuls are those infected with a virus causing them to behave erratically…a very contagious virus…
A/N: Arc I was written for National Novel Writing Month 2010, hope you enjoy! Do not own the characters, but the plot is all mine. Please comment <3
Attention citizens. Soulful activity has been spotted in sector 4-11. All occupants evacuate immediately and stand by for instructions.
The warning flashed over 6575’s vision, scrolling across and out of sight. Stopping, he decided against cutting through 4-11 as always on his way back to his apartment, instead skirting around the edge of the sector. It seemed like every 150 hours there was another warning against Soulfuls, in a different sector each time. They were persistent, he had to give them that. But it was only a matter of time before they were caught.
He stepped onto the moving sidewalk and watched as he was brought out of the building and over the streets below, moving at a good clip to the next building. Others walked past him, looking straight ahead with their attention focused on their destination. You could tell which ones were going to work and which ones were done for the next 30 hours. Those going to work would never talk, totally focused on what they were doing, while the ones going home would sometimes talk with passerby…those in the same Model as them naturally. It was forbidden to talk to a Model above you unless there was a good reason or they spoke first, and no one talked to a Model below without just reason.
6575 watched a Model 9 scurry by, no one so much as looking at him. Model 9’s were the lowest of the low, programmed to serve and perform menial tasks, only a little better than semi-sentient drones in that they were capable of thought. As little as that thought was.
A lot had changed since humankind became extinct 400 years ago. The planet was a wasteland. The land outside the metropolis was dry and inhabitable, bare of anything other than rock and dust. The oceans were dry. Overhead was a constant haze of brown, dirt clouds that showered debris every now and then.
The purpose of the androids that now inhabited that wasteland was to correct the mistakes mankind made…but it wasn’t something that could be accomplished in a few hundred years, or even a millennia. Thankfully, each android had an average life span of 200 years.
There were different Models, 1 all the way down to 9. Model 1’s were never seen, but always felt, vast supercomputers that watched over the world. Model 2’s ran the new government, and all the other Models were citizens in the new world. Citizens programmed with similar behavior patterns to humans, as humans designed them.
More and more androids were appearing at the borders of 4-11, lingering as they waited for confirmation it was safe to return to their work. Looking over the sea of heads, 6575 saw a thin pillar of smoke rising into the sky. The Soulfuls had blown something up again.
It was none of his concern though. He lived in 4-12, one sector over, and the situation would be contained in a matter of minutes.
He didn’t understand what prompted the Soulfuls to do what they did. They had appeared 7 and a half years ago, and had started causing havoc in the metropolis. There hadn’t been such a large uprising since the Model 8 rebellion at the turn of the era. Quite frankly, he wondered why they haven’t been contained yet. The Model 8’s were contained and the line discontinued within months of declaring war on the government. And yet the Soulfuls, less in numbers than the Model 8’s, were still fighting.
The government advised citizens to report any Soulful activity immediately and then get away, for their own safety. There were relatively few viruses so widespread, but none of them so contagious as the Soulful virus. It ate through an android’s core processing unit and caused the victim to behave erratically, without logic or calculation. 6575 considered himself lucky to have not been infected with it.
He was reaching the edge of 4-12 when a large explosion rocked the moving sidewalk and a few androids went sprawling, him included. Pushing himself up onto his hands and knees, he looked over his shoulder. 4-11 was alight with fire, closer than before. What were they trying to do, bring the whole sector to the ground?
Updates flashed across his vision; 4-11 was now under lockdown to prevent the Soulfuls from escaping, and 4-12, 4-10 and 4-09 were given warnings to evacuate at the slightest notice. Debating whether or not to just find somewhere else to stay, 6575 shrugged and stood properly, walking into the sector he lived in.
The situation would be contained soon; there was nowhere the Soulfuls could hide after such a flashy display.
He was wrong.
Pressing one hand to the sensor on his door, the identification software beeped at him before the door eased open. Stepping in and watching the door seal shut behind him again, he turned around and froze.
Two men looked up at him from where they were sitting against the wall, one in the middle of peering out the window.
The moment of shock did him in. Before 6575 could even blink, he was being slammed up against the wall, one hand pressed over his mouth to muffle any noise as he stared into dark eyes. He lashed out, knocking away the man pinning him and running for the door, CPU struggling to figure out what had just happened. He wasn’t given a chance as hands pulled him back and he was pressed against the wall, chest against the metal as an iron grip held his wrists against his back.
“…Shit,” came a voice deeper than his.
“So much for the owner being out…” sighed a voice much closer to him, and 6575 was distracted from trying to process the first word. “Now what?”
Soulfuls, it occurred to 6575 then. These two were Soulfuls hiding in his apartment from the law enforcers. How had they gotten away from the blast site so fast?
“We can’t let him report us,” spoke the deeper voice. “Shut him down.”
The grip on his wrists changed and he was turned around, his back slamming into the metal wall instead. Wincing as his system registered the pain, 6575 looked up to meet charcoal eyes, framed by long black hair that draped down the man’s shoulders. The man was petite, shorter and thinner than him, but easily held him against the wall. Meeting those eyes, 6575 could see why; this was a Model 3, law enforcement class, armed with enhancements that made them stronger and faster than any other category.
Instantly he felt the urge to look down; he was only Model 6, making this man three times his superior. But when the android felt a hand slip under his shirt, he jumped and struggled again, knowing that the other man was going to open his chest panel and shut him down. Maybe permanently.
“I’m sorry about this,” the other man said, and he really did look apologetic as his fingers found the edges to the chest panel.
“W-wait,” 6575 said, eyes wide. “You’re Soulfuls, right? Why are you doing this? Why blow things up and endanger lives?”
The fingers that had been unlocking the panel in his chest paused in their movements, dark eyes piercing into his own. The other man, who had been pacing around behind him and glancing out the window, stopped as well.
“Why do you ask?” the Model 3 spoke, voice blank. But he’d stopped trying to get inside him, which was a good sign. 6575 didn’t fancy being shut down.
“I, I just…” It took a moment for him to formulate a response. It was a question he asked himself from time to time, but had never voiced. “I just want to know why. What motivates you to do something like that? There’s got to be a reason behind it, right? Even if you’re infected with viruses…I think there would still be a reason, no matter how distorted the logic, right?”
The Model 3 looked up at him with narrowed eyes, as if trying to see inside his head. “I wonder…” he murmured.
“No,” the other Soulful said flatly. 6575 looked up at him, noticing for the first time he was a Model 7; construction and mechanic class. Though no Model 7 he’d ever seen had red hair. Did they even make androids with red hair? “We have to go, they’re going to start checking the other sectors soon. We don’t have time for this.”
“Then we’ll make time,” The Model 3 said simply. “Calm down.” 6575 looked from one to the other in confusion, unable to comprehend. Model 7’s never questioned a Model 3’s decision before, even though 6575 wasn’t all that clear on what the decision was. It just wasn’t possible. The hierarchy prevented the thought from even occurring to a lower class.
The redhead growled in annoyance, and the Model 3 looked back at 6575 with a smile. “What’s your name?”
“Name?” The android against the wall blinked. “Uh…6575.”
“Not your number,” the Model 3 said calmly. “Your name.”
“That is my name.”
“He’s a lost cause, just shut him down so we can go,” the Model 7 said, going to the window and peering out.
“No it’s not,” the one holding 6575 to the wall replied, ignoring the other android. “My name is different from my number. Do you want to know my name?”
What was he going on about? Maybe the virus was more potent than 6575 thought. His number was his name. But he was curious. “Yes.”
The Model 3’s lips quirked upwards. “It’s YoungSaeng, Heo YoungSaeng.”
“Saeng!” exclaimed the redhead, looking back at him with wide eyes.
“The hothead over there is Park JungMin, don’t mind him,” the Model 3 continued, smile playing on his lips.
“How do you know those are your names?” 6575 asked, frowning. They sounded weird to him.
“You just know. Now…what’s your name?”
“I told you, it’s my number,” 6575 replied, a little exasperated now. Except he couldn’t be annoyed at a Model 3.
The one who called himself ‘YoungSaeng’ raised an eyebrow at him and released him from the wall. “Okay, let’s try this another way.” He pulled a bag off his back, and searched around inside it. 6575 didn’t try to run away; he knew this android could catch him without even trying.
“We have to go,” JungMin pressed.
“Five minutes, Min. Then we’ll go.” YoungSaeng pulled a few sheets of some sort of fabric out of his bag, and held them out to 6575. Reaching out, the Model 6 took them cautiously. “What sort of material is this?”
“It’s called paper. Humans used to use it.”
…Paper? 6575 looked up at him in amazement. A human artifact? “I thought all human traces were destroyed?”
“Yeah, well, that’s what they want you to think.” YoungSaeng motioned at the papers in 6575’s hands. “Those are names, human names. Did you know this metropolis, Division 4, is sitting on top of what used to be a human city called Seoul? These names were what the humans who lived here called themselves.”
6575 looked down at the list. There were many names written with some sort of crude, black powder, in two separate lists labeled ‘men’ and ‘women’. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Look for your name,” YoungSaeng replied as if it was the simplest thing in the world. “Don’t force yourself. Your name will stand out from the others, you’ll know it when you see it.”
What was that supposed to mean? Did the Model 3 mean to just randomly pick a name from the list? ‘You’ll know it when you see it’ wasn’t logical in any way. “…Okay…” 6575 looked down at the list, eyebrows creased in a frown. What was he supposed to be looking for? A specific combination of syllables together?
He recognized the language; as a Model 6, he worked with information, and was one of those who knew the old human languages. Peering at the symbols, he processed what he was seeing carefully.
HaNeul.
JunYoung.
TaeYoon.
These were names?
He continued to look through the list, feeling a sense of unease. None of these were ‘standing out’ to him. They were just symbols on a piece of paper. Paper that no one was supposed to have. He knew the Model 7 was growing annoyed at how long he was taking, shuffling around and peeking out the window every few seconds.
“Uh…” He tried a guess. “Jun…Tae?”
YoungSaeng narrowed his eyes at him. “You don’t sound sure.”
That would be because he wasn’t, but 6575 didn’t say so.
“He’s lying. Come on Saeng, he might be a Soulless.” JungMin marched over finally, taking the Model 3 by the wrist. 6575 was again struck by the complete lack of order. A Model 7 touching a Model 3 without so much as waiting for permission was surely packed with viruses.
The Model 3 searched 6575’s eyes again before sighing and shaking his head. “Sorry, Min. Let’s go.” He took the papers back from the Model 6 and tucked them into his bag before turning away.
“Wait, what about him?” The redhead pointed at the android against the wall. “We can’t just leave him.”
“What is he going to say? They already know our model numbers and names, without our actual identification numbers they can’t do anything. Have they caught on to the fact we’re not in 4-11 yet?”
“Yeah,” JungMin growled. “They’re searching 4-09 now, and it won’t be long before they’re here.”
6575 couldn’t bring himself to move away from the wall, watching them as they walked to the door. The Model 7 busied himself with reopening the seal with codes only the building designer and 6575 were supposed to know.
Who were they? Why were they acting like this? The unanswered questions battered at his mind and made him glad his CPU could handle such trivial situations without malfunctioning on him. He didn’t have an answer…but he wanted to know. He wanted to know his name.
His name…
The names he’d seen on the paper flashed by in his mind. ChungAe. DaeHyun. EunKyung. Combinations of two separate syllables made a name. JungHee. SangKyu. TaeHyun. Reorder them, and they seemed to make a different name completely.
YoungHo. SukChul.
The door popped open.
“KyuJong!”
The two Soulfuls paused, one of JungMin’s feet over the threshold. Looking back, YoungSaeng’s eyes focused on 6575, who looked a little taken aback at his own outburst.
“What was that?”
6575 blinked at them, unsure what to say. “It…is that my name?” It hadn’t even been any of the names on the list; he knew, he memorized lists fast.
“…JungMin, close the door.” YoungSaeng turned around fully, the redhead shutting and resealing the door behind them. “Why do you say it’s your name?”
“…” Truthfully, he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t logical. “I don’t know. It just came up.” How could words ‘fit’? He couldn’t describe it. It sounded like something that could have been a name. His name.
“Like something you used to know but forgot,” YoungSaeng whispered, watching him. “Right?”
6575 slowly nodded.
The Model 3 walked back to him, stopping right in front of him. 6575 quickly looked down like he was supposed to.
“I’m not going to pull rank on you. Look at me…KyuJong.”
The sound of that strange name on the other man’s lips made 6575 look up slowly, meeting the shorter android’s eyes. YoungSaeng was smiling.
“JungMin, I think we found another one.”
“…Huh.” The redhead walked over and peered at 6575, who leaned back when the other android leaned forward. “KyuJong, huh? Last name?”
“Eh?” 6575 blinked. There was more to a name?
“Don’t think,” JungMin ordered (since when could a Model 7 order a Model 6 around?). “First thing that pops into your head. Last name!”
“K-Kim!” 6575 squeaked in alarm at the shout.
JungMin smirked and leaned back. “See, Saengie? The scaring method works a lot faster.”
“You’re a mean piece of scrap metal,” YoungSaeng muttered, hitting JungMin’s shoulder and pushing him away. “Go make yourself useful and ask for permission to bring him with us.”
“Yes sir.” JungMin saluted the Model 3 with a grin and wandered to the other end of the room. 6575 watched as he tapped on his wrist and started to talk, wondering whom he was communicating with. Then he registered YoungSaeng’s words. “Bring me with you?” he asked, frowning.
“Yeah.” YoungSaeng’s smile widened. “You wanted to know more about us, right?”
“Y-yes, but…”
“Hear me out. Did you ever stop to think about how odd it is to want to know more? How no one else ever asks? Did any of your coworkers or neighbors or anyone you ever talked to express any interest in knowing who we are or what drives us?”
6575 thought about that, and frowned as he slowly shook his head. He couldn’t remember ever hearing more than just the updates that flashed across his retinal implants about new attacks, and the warnings to avoid Soulful activity and report it.
He wasn’t so keen to report it right now though.
“You’re different from them,” YoungSaeng said quietly. “You can think.”
“All androids are fully sentient,” 6575 replied automatically.
“Not that kind of thinking. Running formulas and equations through your CPU and receiving a definite constant for an answer isn’t thinking.” YoungSaeng shook his head with a small smile. “It may take practice, and some getting used to…but you don’t just have to think that way, KyuJong ah. You can think with this too.” He placed one hand over 6575’s chest.
A moment of silence.
“…My power core?” 6575 asked, confused.
“…” YoungSaeng sighed and smiled. “You’ll be a bit of work, I think. But it’ll be worth it.” He squeezed 6575’s shoulder and turned to JungMin. “Well?”
“It’s a no-go.” JungMin turned back to them both. “They need to prepare before bringing anyone else in, and talk with the other cell. After what happened last time, it’s no surprise.”
“Last time?” 6575 blinked, and wasn’t answered.
“That’s too bad,” YoungSaeng sighed, looking back at 6575 with a small smile. “…Here.” He pulled out a blank slip of paper no longer than his thumb, and a beige stick with a black tip. The black end seemed to come off like the powder used on the lists of names, as he wrote something out on the piece of paper before handing it to 6575.
The android looked down at the slip of paper. On it was written 4-17, repair shop 5.
“If you want answers, meet us there in 75 hours,” YoungSaeng said.
“We’ll know if you told anyone, so don’t be stupid,” JungMin added as he walked back over. YoungSaeng stepped on his foot.
“I’m on duty in 75 hours,” 6575 replied, frowning.
YoungSaeng smiled. “If your curiosity is strong enough, that won’t stop you, will it?”
6575 was silent. Maybe the Model 3 was right.
After a pause, YoungSaeng smiled. “We’ll be going then. Hope to see you soon…KyuJong.” He turned and walked towards the door, JungMin looking 6575 over before following.
6575 - Kim KyuJong - watched them open the door again and leave, the lock sealing behind them. For the longest time he just stood there, looking first at the door then at the slip of paper in his hand. That had been…different.
Very different.
The switch to his usual routine was dizzying and he had to lean against the wall for support, but somehow it entranced him. A variable he couldn’t figure out. Two variables he couldn’t figure out, actually.
He couldn’t help but wonder what they could show him…even if they were virus-infected.
It never occurred to him they might have infected him too.
Chapter: 1/11
Fandom: SS501, cameos of Super Junior, BEAST and SHINee
Pairings: Unknown
Rating: PG-16
Warning: AU, Dystopia, Angst
Summary: Arc I. The year is 400 AM…400 After Man. Humankind is extinct, but they didn’t leave Earth uninhabited. For 400 years androids have lived in their place. Citizens have the same thoughts, same likes and same dislikes as every other android in their model. But even an automated society has its troublemakers. A terrorist group calling themselves the Soulfuls operate outside their model programming and stir unrest. The government advises all citizens to report any Soulful activity immediately, and to stay away from them, for Soulfuls are those infected with a virus causing them to behave erratically…a very contagious virus…
A/N: Arc I was written for National Novel Writing Month 2010, hope you enjoy! Do not own the characters, but the plot is all mine. Please comment <3
Attention citizens. Soulful activity has been spotted in sector 4-11. All occupants evacuate immediately and stand by for instructions.
The warning flashed over 6575’s vision, scrolling across and out of sight. Stopping, he decided against cutting through 4-11 as always on his way back to his apartment, instead skirting around the edge of the sector. It seemed like every 150 hours there was another warning against Soulfuls, in a different sector each time. They were persistent, he had to give them that. But it was only a matter of time before they were caught.
He stepped onto the moving sidewalk and watched as he was brought out of the building and over the streets below, moving at a good clip to the next building. Others walked past him, looking straight ahead with their attention focused on their destination. You could tell which ones were going to work and which ones were done for the next 30 hours. Those going to work would never talk, totally focused on what they were doing, while the ones going home would sometimes talk with passerby…those in the same Model as them naturally. It was forbidden to talk to a Model above you unless there was a good reason or they spoke first, and no one talked to a Model below without just reason.
6575 watched a Model 9 scurry by, no one so much as looking at him. Model 9’s were the lowest of the low, programmed to serve and perform menial tasks, only a little better than semi-sentient drones in that they were capable of thought. As little as that thought was.
A lot had changed since humankind became extinct 400 years ago. The planet was a wasteland. The land outside the metropolis was dry and inhabitable, bare of anything other than rock and dust. The oceans were dry. Overhead was a constant haze of brown, dirt clouds that showered debris every now and then.
The purpose of the androids that now inhabited that wasteland was to correct the mistakes mankind made…but it wasn’t something that could be accomplished in a few hundred years, or even a millennia. Thankfully, each android had an average life span of 200 years.
There were different Models, 1 all the way down to 9. Model 1’s were never seen, but always felt, vast supercomputers that watched over the world. Model 2’s ran the new government, and all the other Models were citizens in the new world. Citizens programmed with similar behavior patterns to humans, as humans designed them.
More and more androids were appearing at the borders of 4-11, lingering as they waited for confirmation it was safe to return to their work. Looking over the sea of heads, 6575 saw a thin pillar of smoke rising into the sky. The Soulfuls had blown something up again.
It was none of his concern though. He lived in 4-12, one sector over, and the situation would be contained in a matter of minutes.
He didn’t understand what prompted the Soulfuls to do what they did. They had appeared 7 and a half years ago, and had started causing havoc in the metropolis. There hadn’t been such a large uprising since the Model 8 rebellion at the turn of the era. Quite frankly, he wondered why they haven’t been contained yet. The Model 8’s were contained and the line discontinued within months of declaring war on the government. And yet the Soulfuls, less in numbers than the Model 8’s, were still fighting.
The government advised citizens to report any Soulful activity immediately and then get away, for their own safety. There were relatively few viruses so widespread, but none of them so contagious as the Soulful virus. It ate through an android’s core processing unit and caused the victim to behave erratically, without logic or calculation. 6575 considered himself lucky to have not been infected with it.
He was reaching the edge of 4-12 when a large explosion rocked the moving sidewalk and a few androids went sprawling, him included. Pushing himself up onto his hands and knees, he looked over his shoulder. 4-11 was alight with fire, closer than before. What were they trying to do, bring the whole sector to the ground?
Updates flashed across his vision; 4-11 was now under lockdown to prevent the Soulfuls from escaping, and 4-12, 4-10 and 4-09 were given warnings to evacuate at the slightest notice. Debating whether or not to just find somewhere else to stay, 6575 shrugged and stood properly, walking into the sector he lived in.
The situation would be contained soon; there was nowhere the Soulfuls could hide after such a flashy display.
He was wrong.
Pressing one hand to the sensor on his door, the identification software beeped at him before the door eased open. Stepping in and watching the door seal shut behind him again, he turned around and froze.
Two men looked up at him from where they were sitting against the wall, one in the middle of peering out the window.
The moment of shock did him in. Before 6575 could even blink, he was being slammed up against the wall, one hand pressed over his mouth to muffle any noise as he stared into dark eyes. He lashed out, knocking away the man pinning him and running for the door, CPU struggling to figure out what had just happened. He wasn’t given a chance as hands pulled him back and he was pressed against the wall, chest against the metal as an iron grip held his wrists against his back.
“…Shit,” came a voice deeper than his.
“So much for the owner being out…” sighed a voice much closer to him, and 6575 was distracted from trying to process the first word. “Now what?”
Soulfuls, it occurred to 6575 then. These two were Soulfuls hiding in his apartment from the law enforcers. How had they gotten away from the blast site so fast?
“We can’t let him report us,” spoke the deeper voice. “Shut him down.”
The grip on his wrists changed and he was turned around, his back slamming into the metal wall instead. Wincing as his system registered the pain, 6575 looked up to meet charcoal eyes, framed by long black hair that draped down the man’s shoulders. The man was petite, shorter and thinner than him, but easily held him against the wall. Meeting those eyes, 6575 could see why; this was a Model 3, law enforcement class, armed with enhancements that made them stronger and faster than any other category.
Instantly he felt the urge to look down; he was only Model 6, making this man three times his superior. But when the android felt a hand slip under his shirt, he jumped and struggled again, knowing that the other man was going to open his chest panel and shut him down. Maybe permanently.
“I’m sorry about this,” the other man said, and he really did look apologetic as his fingers found the edges to the chest panel.
“W-wait,” 6575 said, eyes wide. “You’re Soulfuls, right? Why are you doing this? Why blow things up and endanger lives?”
The fingers that had been unlocking the panel in his chest paused in their movements, dark eyes piercing into his own. The other man, who had been pacing around behind him and glancing out the window, stopped as well.
“Why do you ask?” the Model 3 spoke, voice blank. But he’d stopped trying to get inside him, which was a good sign. 6575 didn’t fancy being shut down.
“I, I just…” It took a moment for him to formulate a response. It was a question he asked himself from time to time, but had never voiced. “I just want to know why. What motivates you to do something like that? There’s got to be a reason behind it, right? Even if you’re infected with viruses…I think there would still be a reason, no matter how distorted the logic, right?”
The Model 3 looked up at him with narrowed eyes, as if trying to see inside his head. “I wonder…” he murmured.
“No,” the other Soulful said flatly. 6575 looked up at him, noticing for the first time he was a Model 7; construction and mechanic class. Though no Model 7 he’d ever seen had red hair. Did they even make androids with red hair? “We have to go, they’re going to start checking the other sectors soon. We don’t have time for this.”
“Then we’ll make time,” The Model 3 said simply. “Calm down.” 6575 looked from one to the other in confusion, unable to comprehend. Model 7’s never questioned a Model 3’s decision before, even though 6575 wasn’t all that clear on what the decision was. It just wasn’t possible. The hierarchy prevented the thought from even occurring to a lower class.
The redhead growled in annoyance, and the Model 3 looked back at 6575 with a smile. “What’s your name?”
“Name?” The android against the wall blinked. “Uh…6575.”
“Not your number,” the Model 3 said calmly. “Your name.”
“That is my name.”
“He’s a lost cause, just shut him down so we can go,” the Model 7 said, going to the window and peering out.
“No it’s not,” the one holding 6575 to the wall replied, ignoring the other android. “My name is different from my number. Do you want to know my name?”
What was he going on about? Maybe the virus was more potent than 6575 thought. His number was his name. But he was curious. “Yes.”
The Model 3’s lips quirked upwards. “It’s YoungSaeng, Heo YoungSaeng.”
“Saeng!” exclaimed the redhead, looking back at him with wide eyes.
“The hothead over there is Park JungMin, don’t mind him,” the Model 3 continued, smile playing on his lips.
“How do you know those are your names?” 6575 asked, frowning. They sounded weird to him.
“You just know. Now…what’s your name?”
“I told you, it’s my number,” 6575 replied, a little exasperated now. Except he couldn’t be annoyed at a Model 3.
The one who called himself ‘YoungSaeng’ raised an eyebrow at him and released him from the wall. “Okay, let’s try this another way.” He pulled a bag off his back, and searched around inside it. 6575 didn’t try to run away; he knew this android could catch him without even trying.
“We have to go,” JungMin pressed.
“Five minutes, Min. Then we’ll go.” YoungSaeng pulled a few sheets of some sort of fabric out of his bag, and held them out to 6575. Reaching out, the Model 6 took them cautiously. “What sort of material is this?”
“It’s called paper. Humans used to use it.”
…Paper? 6575 looked up at him in amazement. A human artifact? “I thought all human traces were destroyed?”
“Yeah, well, that’s what they want you to think.” YoungSaeng motioned at the papers in 6575’s hands. “Those are names, human names. Did you know this metropolis, Division 4, is sitting on top of what used to be a human city called Seoul? These names were what the humans who lived here called themselves.”
6575 looked down at the list. There were many names written with some sort of crude, black powder, in two separate lists labeled ‘men’ and ‘women’. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
“Look for your name,” YoungSaeng replied as if it was the simplest thing in the world. “Don’t force yourself. Your name will stand out from the others, you’ll know it when you see it.”
What was that supposed to mean? Did the Model 3 mean to just randomly pick a name from the list? ‘You’ll know it when you see it’ wasn’t logical in any way. “…Okay…” 6575 looked down at the list, eyebrows creased in a frown. What was he supposed to be looking for? A specific combination of syllables together?
He recognized the language; as a Model 6, he worked with information, and was one of those who knew the old human languages. Peering at the symbols, he processed what he was seeing carefully.
HaNeul.
JunYoung.
TaeYoon.
These were names?
He continued to look through the list, feeling a sense of unease. None of these were ‘standing out’ to him. They were just symbols on a piece of paper. Paper that no one was supposed to have. He knew the Model 7 was growing annoyed at how long he was taking, shuffling around and peeking out the window every few seconds.
“Uh…” He tried a guess. “Jun…Tae?”
YoungSaeng narrowed his eyes at him. “You don’t sound sure.”
That would be because he wasn’t, but 6575 didn’t say so.
“He’s lying. Come on Saeng, he might be a Soulless.” JungMin marched over finally, taking the Model 3 by the wrist. 6575 was again struck by the complete lack of order. A Model 7 touching a Model 3 without so much as waiting for permission was surely packed with viruses.
The Model 3 searched 6575’s eyes again before sighing and shaking his head. “Sorry, Min. Let’s go.” He took the papers back from the Model 6 and tucked them into his bag before turning away.
“Wait, what about him?” The redhead pointed at the android against the wall. “We can’t just leave him.”
“What is he going to say? They already know our model numbers and names, without our actual identification numbers they can’t do anything. Have they caught on to the fact we’re not in 4-11 yet?”
“Yeah,” JungMin growled. “They’re searching 4-09 now, and it won’t be long before they’re here.”
6575 couldn’t bring himself to move away from the wall, watching them as they walked to the door. The Model 7 busied himself with reopening the seal with codes only the building designer and 6575 were supposed to know.
Who were they? Why were they acting like this? The unanswered questions battered at his mind and made him glad his CPU could handle such trivial situations without malfunctioning on him. He didn’t have an answer…but he wanted to know. He wanted to know his name.
His name…
The names he’d seen on the paper flashed by in his mind. ChungAe. DaeHyun. EunKyung. Combinations of two separate syllables made a name. JungHee. SangKyu. TaeHyun. Reorder them, and they seemed to make a different name completely.
YoungHo. SukChul.
The door popped open.
“KyuJong!”
The two Soulfuls paused, one of JungMin’s feet over the threshold. Looking back, YoungSaeng’s eyes focused on 6575, who looked a little taken aback at his own outburst.
“What was that?”
6575 blinked at them, unsure what to say. “It…is that my name?” It hadn’t even been any of the names on the list; he knew, he memorized lists fast.
“…JungMin, close the door.” YoungSaeng turned around fully, the redhead shutting and resealing the door behind them. “Why do you say it’s your name?”
“…” Truthfully, he wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t logical. “I don’t know. It just came up.” How could words ‘fit’? He couldn’t describe it. It sounded like something that could have been a name. His name.
“Like something you used to know but forgot,” YoungSaeng whispered, watching him. “Right?”
6575 slowly nodded.
The Model 3 walked back to him, stopping right in front of him. 6575 quickly looked down like he was supposed to.
“I’m not going to pull rank on you. Look at me…KyuJong.”
The sound of that strange name on the other man’s lips made 6575 look up slowly, meeting the shorter android’s eyes. YoungSaeng was smiling.
“JungMin, I think we found another one.”
“…Huh.” The redhead walked over and peered at 6575, who leaned back when the other android leaned forward. “KyuJong, huh? Last name?”
“Eh?” 6575 blinked. There was more to a name?
“Don’t think,” JungMin ordered (since when could a Model 7 order a Model 6 around?). “First thing that pops into your head. Last name!”
“K-Kim!” 6575 squeaked in alarm at the shout.
JungMin smirked and leaned back. “See, Saengie? The scaring method works a lot faster.”
“You’re a mean piece of scrap metal,” YoungSaeng muttered, hitting JungMin’s shoulder and pushing him away. “Go make yourself useful and ask for permission to bring him with us.”
“Yes sir.” JungMin saluted the Model 3 with a grin and wandered to the other end of the room. 6575 watched as he tapped on his wrist and started to talk, wondering whom he was communicating with. Then he registered YoungSaeng’s words. “Bring me with you?” he asked, frowning.
“Yeah.” YoungSaeng’s smile widened. “You wanted to know more about us, right?”
“Y-yes, but…”
“Hear me out. Did you ever stop to think about how odd it is to want to know more? How no one else ever asks? Did any of your coworkers or neighbors or anyone you ever talked to express any interest in knowing who we are or what drives us?”
6575 thought about that, and frowned as he slowly shook his head. He couldn’t remember ever hearing more than just the updates that flashed across his retinal implants about new attacks, and the warnings to avoid Soulful activity and report it.
He wasn’t so keen to report it right now though.
“You’re different from them,” YoungSaeng said quietly. “You can think.”
“All androids are fully sentient,” 6575 replied automatically.
“Not that kind of thinking. Running formulas and equations through your CPU and receiving a definite constant for an answer isn’t thinking.” YoungSaeng shook his head with a small smile. “It may take practice, and some getting used to…but you don’t just have to think that way, KyuJong ah. You can think with this too.” He placed one hand over 6575’s chest.
A moment of silence.
“…My power core?” 6575 asked, confused.
“…” YoungSaeng sighed and smiled. “You’ll be a bit of work, I think. But it’ll be worth it.” He squeezed 6575’s shoulder and turned to JungMin. “Well?”
“It’s a no-go.” JungMin turned back to them both. “They need to prepare before bringing anyone else in, and talk with the other cell. After what happened last time, it’s no surprise.”
“Last time?” 6575 blinked, and wasn’t answered.
“That’s too bad,” YoungSaeng sighed, looking back at 6575 with a small smile. “…Here.” He pulled out a blank slip of paper no longer than his thumb, and a beige stick with a black tip. The black end seemed to come off like the powder used on the lists of names, as he wrote something out on the piece of paper before handing it to 6575.
The android looked down at the slip of paper. On it was written 4-17, repair shop 5.
“If you want answers, meet us there in 75 hours,” YoungSaeng said.
“We’ll know if you told anyone, so don’t be stupid,” JungMin added as he walked back over. YoungSaeng stepped on his foot.
“I’m on duty in 75 hours,” 6575 replied, frowning.
YoungSaeng smiled. “If your curiosity is strong enough, that won’t stop you, will it?”
6575 was silent. Maybe the Model 3 was right.
After a pause, YoungSaeng smiled. “We’ll be going then. Hope to see you soon…KyuJong.” He turned and walked towards the door, JungMin looking 6575 over before following.
6575 - Kim KyuJong - watched them open the door again and leave, the lock sealing behind them. For the longest time he just stood there, looking first at the door then at the slip of paper in his hand. That had been…different.
Very different.
The switch to his usual routine was dizzying and he had to lean against the wall for support, but somehow it entranced him. A variable he couldn’t figure out. Two variables he couldn’t figure out, actually.
He couldn’t help but wonder what they could show him…even if they were virus-infected.
It never occurred to him they might have infected him too.