Soulless: Awakening - Chapter Two
Title: Soulless: Awakening
Chapter: 2/11
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 And sorry for the late update! T^T Was supposed to be yesterday.... /hides
There was very little for an android to do when off duty. After the long shifts they needed time to recharge, so KyuJong (somehow the name had stuck) stepped into the charging dock and closed his eyes, shutting down all systems except the most vital ones to go into ‘sleep’ mode. That didn’t stop him from thinking. Androids were meant to process information even while recharging; just at a slower pace.
So, he thought.
He thought about the idea of names, names that weren’t numbers, and why humans had names in the first place. Weren’t numbers a lot simpler to keep track of? Maybe they had ran out of numbers? No, numbers could stretch on into infinity. Maybe they had grown tired of the long sets of digits? There had been quite a lot of humans, he remembered hearing somewhere…
Some of the phrases the two Soulfuls had used confused him. Maybe it was just the virus talking. Right? They seemed to understand each other perfectly at least.
When YoungSaeng had put his hand on his chest, what had he meant? It obviously wasn’t what KyuJong had interpreted it to be.
How could the Model hierarchy be disrespected so completely? It was part of their programming to respect those above them, and the Model 7 had spoken to the Model 3 as if they were actually on the same Model line.
What was the advantage of turning your hair red, anyways?
And that wasn’t even touching the whole idea that drove the Soulfuls to do what they did…
He couldn’t remember ever having so many questions without answers. Answers were always constant, unchanging. He knew all he ever needed to know, all his Model ever needed to know. And if there was something he wasn’t familiar with, it was a simple matter of consulting the collective database that ran all through the metropolis, the awareness of thousands of androids plugged into it at the same time, sharing information.
But something stopped him from tapping into that collective now, stopped him from asking. Some part of his CPU registered that asking questions no one else asked might not be received well. YoungSaeng had been right when he said it was odd for KyuJong to ask such questions.
There was only one way he was going to get the answers then.
That didn’t solve the problem of being on duty when he had been told to meet them.
KyuJong’s eyes reopened exactly 50 hours later. 50 hours of recharging for 100 hours on duty, that was the trade-off. He stepped off the charging dock and straightened the biofabric clothing he wore. Biofabric was a more efficient solution to the problem of clothes that might otherwise rip or tear while on duty. It wasn’t so much an issue for his Model (Model 6’s dealt in programming and information) than it was for the Model 7 construction class, but all Models wore biofabric to protect their synthetic skin from damage without wasting clothing.
Now as he brushed his hands over it, any sign of wrinkles that had gathered previously disappeared as though never there, a slight tear that had probably been received when slammed up against the wall earlier re-stitching itself.
Checking all systems and determining he was running at full efficiency again, KyuJong walked to the window and looked outside. Updates continued to flash across his vision, but there was nothing on the Soulfuls. His sector hadn’t needed to evacuate, which meant those two Soulfuls had probably gotten away.
He wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or not. They were surely going to repeat the bombings later, but at the same time he couldn’t get his answers if they’d been captured and shut down.
It was time to leave for work. Straightening, KyuJong walked to the door and pressed one hand against the sensor, watching it unseal and swing open, and then close again once he was outside.
The walk to the connected office buildings was short, since 4-11 was out of lockdown and he could cut through the buildings on his way. The questions still bothered him, but he set them aside to deal with later. It wasn’t time to meet them yet, and he had to figure out a way to get out of the office 75 hours early.
Reaching his destination, KyuJong signed in as usual and took up his station. His particular job was a privilege to his class: communication with Model 5’s. Though they were only one Model higher than him, Model 5’s were an exception to the hierarchy in many ways, and often considered on the level of Model 3 for the work they did. Model 5’s didn’t work in the metropolis…they worked outside it, in the wastelands that used to be forests and fields. Though humans were extinct, one exceptionally smart group of humans had created the Model 5 class with one sole purpose; to repair the damage they had caused to the planet, and help the Earth grow again. In effect, all the other Models were created to facilitate this, assisting the 5’s from inside the metropolis.
KyuJong’s job was to relay communications between the Model 2 government class and the outside, where Model 5’s worked 200-hour shifts to get the job done. It was no small task, helping a whole world grow again.
It was easy to fall into the routine of deciphering messages and passing them off to the proper departments. On the rare occasion where codes wouldn’t suffice for what needed to be said, he would catch a glimpse of a Model 5’s face before he transmitted the videoconference to the right line. It was complicated enough getting the signal into the metropolis without the ever-busy Model 5’s worrying about sending it to the right location.
As he worked, he processed what information he could find on the Soulfuls. The database was full of warnings, but little else. This had never bothered him before, but now he wondered why there was so little known about them and their condition.
It made him all the more curious, and it was harder than usual to go through the hours. Unfortunately, he still had no idea how he was going to leave early. It was rare for androids to leave duty before their time was up. Unscheduled absences usually only happened if the android needed to go in for repairs…
Wait…that might get him out.
In the middle of switching lines, KyuJong subtly opened the panel on his wrist. There was no need to be subtle, those around him absorbed in their work, but he didn’t want to take chances. He’d never purposely sabotaged his own circuits before. At least he was aware of which ones would be safe enough to touch, but would still result in needing repairs immediately.
At exactly 24 hours into his shift, he pinched a wire in his wrist and was rewarded by the system warning that flashed across his vision; one of his nerve points had been severed. He’d already lost feeling in that hand. It was simple enough to fix, but couldn’t wait until the end of his shift. An android without feeling in one hand couldn’t tell one command from the other, couldn’t operate the sensors properly, and could very well send a Model 5 signal in the completely wrong direction, maybe even to a completely different metropolis.
Putting his station on standby, KyuJong rose and walked out of the hallway filled with Model 6’s and flashing monitors. As expected, he was stopped by a hovering drone the size of his head before leaving the building.
“Reason for unscheduled absence?” it beeped at him.
“System error at 24 hours,” he reported to be logged into the database. “Ruptured nerve circuit in left hand.”
The drone floated down to his wrist and scanned it. Once it had confirmed the rupture, it beeped in confirmation and flew away.
Now he had an hour to get it repaired before he was due to meet the two Soulfuls. They were meeting in a repair shop anyways…he’d just visit the repair shop beside it. They were always located in groups.
He walked towards sector 4-17, the sector at the very edge of the city. KyuJong rarely came down this way; there was no need. He rarely went anywhere other than the sector he lived in and the sector he worked in. While he walked, he held his left hand against his chest to prevent banging it against anything. Having no feeling in a hand could be dangerous; he didn’t want to be missing digits on top of a severed nerve.
KyuJong reached the block of repair shops with 30 minutes to spare. Wondering if he would have the time to get it repaired, he looked into the other shops and was disappointed. After the last round of Soulful attacks, all the repair shops were full of androids who hadn’t gotten out of the way in time. A severed nerve wouldn’t take any priority over a droid with half his head blown off and a majority of his CPU missing.
Shaking his head, KyuJong looked down at his hand and decided to just leave it for now. He would make do with his right hand.
It was exactly 75 hours after the Soulfuls left his apartment when KyuJong turned around and caught a flash of red moving around the side of the repair building. Pausing, he blinked before following. He only knew of one android in the whole city with red hair.
He tailed the figure with red hair past the repair shop and along the row of vacant houses in the back. This sector used to be occupied with Model 8 androids, until the rebellion. The government hadn’t had use for the buildings yet, so they’d been left alone aside from the yearly upkeep.
KyuJong looked around at the buildings as they walked. He hadn’t been operative during the time of the rebellion; androids had an average live span of 200 years, and the rebellion had been nearly 4 centuries ago. All he knew about it was that the Model 8s had been given something by the humans no other Model had, and it had driven them…for lack of a better word…insane. Their software became scrambled and they started rampaging until the government class and law enforcement class shut them all down.
It was also the only time he could remember the Model 1 class becoming involved in a large decision. Model 1’s weren’t like the Models under them…they were the supercomputers that saw over each metropolis. They had no physical bodies, but were everywhere instead, and only Model 2’s knew how to communicate with them. They were the highest in the hierarchy you could get; when a Model 1 declared something, their law was absolute.
So when they decreed all Model 8’s be erased, it was only a matter of days before the entire line was eradicated.
Clearing his thoughts, KyuJong paused when he saw the figure with red hair turn another corner. Just where was he going? But he was too far into this to leave now, so the Model 6 followed without a word.
Turning a corner, KyuJong came up short at a hard press of metal against his chest, staring up into brown eyes. The man smiled down at him, but the pressure against his chest panel wasn’t friendly at all.
“Is this him?”
“Yes, and YoungSaeng’s going to twist you into knots if you shoot him,” JungMin rolled his eyes from behind the other man before smirking at KyuJong. “Didn’t think you were going to show up.”
KyuJong blinked, eyes wide as he looked down at the pressure against his chest. Some part of his memory recalled seeing this shape before, something the humans used to use. Another human artifact. Why did they even possess things like this?
“What’s your name?” the man holding the gun against him asked. KyuJong looked up at him, taking in his appearance. Model 4, he realized. He looked down quickly.
“65…” he started with his number automatically, and froze at the click from the gun. “K-Kim KyuJong,” he switched quickly, eyes wide.
“Better. Not a bad name.” The gun was removed and tucked into one pocket. “Kim HyunJoong.” A hand was offered instead. KyuJong blinked owlishly.
“He’s a hierarchy stickler,” JungMin called as he wandered down the alley.
“Oh?” The android who called himself HyunJoong chuckled. “One thing you’ll learn about us is that the hierarchy means nothing. How else would JungMin be able to get away with half of what he says?”
It made sense…kind of. Okay, not really. But KyuJong lifted his hand to shake the other man’s anyways, only when he did so realizing he’d lifted his left hand.
HyunJoong’s gaze landed on the limp hand and he frowned lightly. “In need of repairs, I see?” He took KyuJong’s hand and before the Model 6 could protest had flicked open his wrist panel. It was easy to see the severed wire. “This looks self-inflicted.”
“It was the only way I could leave my shift,” KyuJong replied.
The corner of the other man’s lips quirked. “Resourceful. Not bad, you’re already learning.”
“Huh?”
“Explanations will be later. JungMin, where’s HyungJoon? He needs to take a look at this.”
“Why can’t I fix it?” the redhead asked, lips pursed in a pout. “I’m Model 7 too.”
“Because no one in their right minds would give you a straight shot at their circuitry,” piped up a brown-haired man who’d appeared next to JungMin. The new arrival shrieked when JungMin hit him off the head.
“Just in time. Is this something you can fix, Joon?” HyunJoong asked.
The Model 7 named HyungJoon didn’t even look at KyuJong’s wrist. “Of course I can, what do you take me for? Not out here though. Is YoungSaeng ready?”
KyuJong blinked and looked around for the Model 3. Through all this, he had yet to appear.
“He’s ready,” JungMin said, grinning as he clapped his hands together and leaned down to open a small vent at the base of one of the buildings. Or at least, KyuJong thought it was a vent. The metal plate folded, then the wall beside it folded again, and again, until JungMin was opening up a doorway where there had been nothing but solid metal before.
“Let’s go then,” HyunJoong said with a chuckle, walking into the doorway the redhead had opened. HyungJoon smiled at KyuJong before following. JungMin motioned at KyuJong to go, and the Model 6 hesitated before doing as he was told. He heard JungMin closing the opening again behind them.
The hallway was dark and he had to use his motion sensors to detect where the walls were before he could crash into anything. Following HyungJoon as they turned through different corridors, KyuJong had the distinct feeling he was being watched from all angles, picked apart and examined, and he wondered just what he had gotten himself into.
There was the quick creak of an old door opening, and they stepped out into the room beyond. Hands grabbed KyuJong and he stiffened. “Don’t struggle,” JungMin said from behind him, but he wasn’t the one holding him as he was pressed against a wall, metal strips locking him in place before the hands were removed.
The lights flicked on, and KyuJong looked from one face to another. YoungSaeng was the one locking him against the wall, giving him a reassuring smile before stepping away.
“What’s going on?” he asked, eyes widening as his shirt was pulled up and fingers unlocked his chest panel. “Hey!” Were they going to shut him down?
“Relax,” YoungSaeng said quietly as HyungJoon removed the panel and focused on the circuitry inside. “We’ll explain in a minute.”
“I’d like an explanation now if you don’t mind,” KyuJong replied, trying to squirm away except the bindings were far too tight to allow for that. HyungJoon’s hands were inside his chest, working with the precision and delicacy every Model 7 possessed. KyuJong tried to see what he was doing, and couldn’t.
“Were you followed?” YoungSaeng asked JungMin as HyungJoon worked.
“At first,” JungMin nodded. “Little sentinel drone was tailing him. It was easy enough to lose though, they probably think we’re still in 4-15.”
“We aren’t?” KyuJong asked, trying to distract himself.
“Nope,” JungMin grinned at him. “Explanations later.”
KyuJong shut his eyes and rested his head against the wall, trying to ignore what HyungJoon was doing.
A minute later there was an “a-ha!” and HyungJoon pulled back. A small black cube half the width of his little finger was in his hand. “Found it.” YoungSaeng moved to close up KyuJong’s chest as the Model 6 blinked owlishly at the cube. “What’s that?” He didn’t recognize it as any part of his circuitry.
HyungJoon smiled grimly and crushed the cube between his fingers. “Tracking beacon, and microphone.”
The Model 6’s eyes widened, looking at what remained of the cube as the metal straps holding him down loosened and he could step away from the wall. “I didn’t even know that was there…”
“It’s something they slip in during manufacturing,” YoungSaeng explained. “We had to debug you before explaining anything…sorry for the rough treatment, KyuJong.”
“No, it’s a logical thing to do,” KyuJong replied, shaking his head.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s logical or not,” HyunJoong sighed. “That’s not how we work around here. You won’t get anywhere with thinking based solely on logic.”
“How else are you supposed to think?” KyuJong asked in confusion. He remembered the cryptic message YoungSaeng had given him the first time they met, placing one hand over his chest.
The others glanced at each other, except for HyungJoon; he’d stepped up to KyuJong’s side and opened his wrist panel to take a look at the severed nerve. “This is going to be fun,” JungMin murmured, dropping into a chair.
“KyuJong, what do you know about humans?” HyunJoong asked, watching the Model 6. “About how they thought?”
Frowning, KyuJong leaned against the wall as he considered the question. “I know they didn’t value logic…they were capable of it, but their logic was faulty at times and at others their decisions totally lacked even an attempt at it.”
“How did they make those decisions, KyuJong ah?” YoungSaeng asked quietly, watching from beside JungMin. “Decisions don’t just happen out of thin air…the vast majority of them. There is always a motive and reasoning behind it, even if it isn’t logic-driven. What was used in making those decisions?”
“I…” KyuJong frowned as he realized here was another question he had no answer to. Trying to tap into the collective database automatically, he was surprised when he came up to a wall he couldn’t get around. Wherever they were now, the walls were insulated to prevent signals from entering or leaving. “I don’t know.”
“KyuJong…How did you come up with that name?” YoungSaeng pressed. “It didn’t just come out of thin air.”
“Well…it kind of did.”
“That’s not what I mean. You saw it yourself…it ‘fit’. Is that a logical response, KyuJong? Why not that other name you tried…JunTae, was it? Why did you call yourself KyuJong instead of JunTae? It’s not like our identification numbers, which are sorted by manufacturing date. Names have no order other than alphabetically, and that wasn’t how you decided your name.”
He had a point, and KyuJong found he couldn’t answer. He didn’t know why he’d chosen that name. He’d watched them about to leave, and realized that if he didn’t say something then, then he was going to lose his only chance of ever finding out what drove these people to do what they did. The name had come unbidden to his lips, and he hadn’t even known he was thinking about it until after he’d spoken.
“It was the same for your last name,” JungMin spoke up, grinning widely.
“You didn’t scare it out of him, did you?” HyungJoon groaned from where he was repairing the nerve in KyuJong’s wrist.
“It worked, didn’t it?” JungMin pouted.
“Actually, that makes things a lot easier to explain,” HyunJoong smiled, leaning forward. “Why did you answer JungMin, KyuJong?”
KyuJong blinked. “He was up in my face, and shouted suddenly.”
“It startled you, didn’t it?” YoungSaeng smiled in amusement. KyuJong nodded.
“That’s one of the things that used to influence humans.” KyuJong looked up at HyunJoong as he spoke. “Surprise, or fear. Those, happiness, anger…what are they labeled as, KyuJong?”
“Emotions?” KyuJong asked, blinking.
“Exactly. Emotions motivated humans just as much as logic did, if not more. The average android is capable of emotions, but you will never see it. You know why?”
KyuJong shook his head.
HyunJoong smiled wider. “It all comes down to programming. You can’t feel something if your programming forbids it.”
“Do you know why we’re called Soulfuls?” YoungSaeng asked. HyungJoon closed KyuJong’s wrist panel and stepped away; KyuJong flexed his fingers and was pleased to note the nerve had been repaired.
“No,” the Model 6 replied, shaking his head as he looked up from his hand. “Why?”
“Because we can override our programming,” JungMin piped up, grin widening. “We can choose what we want to do, even if it wouldn’t occur to another android because it’s totally illogical. We can act on emotions, like you did when I spooked you into saying your last name. That wasn’t a programmed response, it was all you.”
“We have what the humans called a soul,” HyungJoon finished, hopping up onto a counter sticking out of the wall and swinging his legs back and forth. “We can’t be controlled by anything or anyone, not even a Model 1.”
KyuJong stared at them, unable to comprehend. A soul? He knew the word, but it didn’t work that way for them. They were artificial intelligence, not a shred of organic matter to be found in their bodies, all synthetic skin and hair and wires and circuits. They didn’t have brains, they had CPUs. They didn’t have a heart, they had a power core. How could an android possess a soul?
“You all really are virus-infected,” he said after a moment. JungMin covered his face with one hand.
YoungSaeng patted the redheaded android’s shoulder. “Relax, Min. It always takes a while at first.”
“Then what about you?” HyunJoong asked simply. KyuJong looked back at him, and took a step back when the Model 4 took a step forward. HyunJoong paused at the movement, and smiled. “If we’re just piles of virus-scrambled circuits and faulty wiring, what does that make you? Why did you just take a step back, KyuJong?”
“Because…” KyuJong floundered for a moment. “Because the virus is contagious.”
“Nonsense. Your CPU has already registered the fact that simply for being in the same room as all of us, you are most likely already infected. A step back won’t change anything. You did that out of fear.”
“But…fear is illogical,” KyuJong tried, not sure how he should be taking this.
“Actually, fear is a very logical emotion, you only think it’s illogical because it’s not something you’re used to feeling, or seeing others feel.” HyunJoong shook his head. “But you can feel it, and that makes you just like us. Whether you call it a soul or a virus makes no different. You can feel so much more than the other androids can.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” the Model 6 protested weakly, but he was starting to see where they were going. It wasn’t normal to feel fear. It wasn’t normal to be so curious and ask questions, even going to the extreme of injuring himself to escape from a job he had the utmost privilege of occupying.
“Once you start looking at things a certain way, you find not a lot makes sense anymore,” YoungSaeng said, seeming sympathetic to his confusion. “You have to make your own sense of it, and take changes as they come.” He stepped away from JungMin, walking up to KyuJong. “What do you think, KyuJong?” he asked, tilting his head to one side and holding out a hand. “Want to see what life can really be like?”
KyuJong looked down at the offered hand. He wasn’t stupid…YoungSaeng was asking if he wanted to join them, be a Soulful as well. Part of him was curious, infinitely curious, wanting to know more about this idea of having a soul and how to think like they did, wondering what it was that lured them into this lifestyle.
But he still didn’t understand…and it didn’t change the fact that they blew up buildings and sabotaged transit units, landing hundreds of androids in the repair shops and hundreds more in a scrap heap. How did having a ‘soul’ excuse that kind of behavior?
He didn’t understand it.
Shaking his head, KyuJong took a step back. “I’m sorry, but I’m not interested in joining you.”
“…” YoungSaeng lowered his hand and nodded with a small smile. “We understand. It’s a lot to take in.”
KyuJong nodded, lips pressed together. “I will take my leave now.”
The others got out of his way as he moved towards the door they had just came from. “I’ll show you out,” HyunJoong smiled and opened the door.
“Nice meeting you, KyuJong,” HyungJoon called sadly.
The three young men watched KyuJong and HyunJoong disappear into the darkness of the tunnels, heading back to 4-15. The door swung shut soundlessly after them.
“Do you think we’ll see him again?” HyungJoon asked, looking over at them. JungMin pulled YoungSaeng down onto his lap and shrugged.
“I think we will,” YoungSaeng smiled, making himself comfortable as they waited for HyunJoong to return. “He’s curious now.”
And curiosity was one of the strongest emotions of all.
Chapter: 2/11
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 And sorry for the late update! T^T Was supposed to be yesterday.... /hides
There was very little for an android to do when off duty. After the long shifts they needed time to recharge, so KyuJong (somehow the name had stuck) stepped into the charging dock and closed his eyes, shutting down all systems except the most vital ones to go into ‘sleep’ mode. That didn’t stop him from thinking. Androids were meant to process information even while recharging; just at a slower pace.
So, he thought.
He thought about the idea of names, names that weren’t numbers, and why humans had names in the first place. Weren’t numbers a lot simpler to keep track of? Maybe they had ran out of numbers? No, numbers could stretch on into infinity. Maybe they had grown tired of the long sets of digits? There had been quite a lot of humans, he remembered hearing somewhere…
Some of the phrases the two Soulfuls had used confused him. Maybe it was just the virus talking. Right? They seemed to understand each other perfectly at least.
When YoungSaeng had put his hand on his chest, what had he meant? It obviously wasn’t what KyuJong had interpreted it to be.
How could the Model hierarchy be disrespected so completely? It was part of their programming to respect those above them, and the Model 7 had spoken to the Model 3 as if they were actually on the same Model line.
What was the advantage of turning your hair red, anyways?
And that wasn’t even touching the whole idea that drove the Soulfuls to do what they did…
He couldn’t remember ever having so many questions without answers. Answers were always constant, unchanging. He knew all he ever needed to know, all his Model ever needed to know. And if there was something he wasn’t familiar with, it was a simple matter of consulting the collective database that ran all through the metropolis, the awareness of thousands of androids plugged into it at the same time, sharing information.
But something stopped him from tapping into that collective now, stopped him from asking. Some part of his CPU registered that asking questions no one else asked might not be received well. YoungSaeng had been right when he said it was odd for KyuJong to ask such questions.
There was only one way he was going to get the answers then.
That didn’t solve the problem of being on duty when he had been told to meet them.
KyuJong’s eyes reopened exactly 50 hours later. 50 hours of recharging for 100 hours on duty, that was the trade-off. He stepped off the charging dock and straightened the biofabric clothing he wore. Biofabric was a more efficient solution to the problem of clothes that might otherwise rip or tear while on duty. It wasn’t so much an issue for his Model (Model 6’s dealt in programming and information) than it was for the Model 7 construction class, but all Models wore biofabric to protect their synthetic skin from damage without wasting clothing.
Now as he brushed his hands over it, any sign of wrinkles that had gathered previously disappeared as though never there, a slight tear that had probably been received when slammed up against the wall earlier re-stitching itself.
Checking all systems and determining he was running at full efficiency again, KyuJong walked to the window and looked outside. Updates continued to flash across his vision, but there was nothing on the Soulfuls. His sector hadn’t needed to evacuate, which meant those two Soulfuls had probably gotten away.
He wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or not. They were surely going to repeat the bombings later, but at the same time he couldn’t get his answers if they’d been captured and shut down.
It was time to leave for work. Straightening, KyuJong walked to the door and pressed one hand against the sensor, watching it unseal and swing open, and then close again once he was outside.
The walk to the connected office buildings was short, since 4-11 was out of lockdown and he could cut through the buildings on his way. The questions still bothered him, but he set them aside to deal with later. It wasn’t time to meet them yet, and he had to figure out a way to get out of the office 75 hours early.
Reaching his destination, KyuJong signed in as usual and took up his station. His particular job was a privilege to his class: communication with Model 5’s. Though they were only one Model higher than him, Model 5’s were an exception to the hierarchy in many ways, and often considered on the level of Model 3 for the work they did. Model 5’s didn’t work in the metropolis…they worked outside it, in the wastelands that used to be forests and fields. Though humans were extinct, one exceptionally smart group of humans had created the Model 5 class with one sole purpose; to repair the damage they had caused to the planet, and help the Earth grow again. In effect, all the other Models were created to facilitate this, assisting the 5’s from inside the metropolis.
KyuJong’s job was to relay communications between the Model 2 government class and the outside, where Model 5’s worked 200-hour shifts to get the job done. It was no small task, helping a whole world grow again.
It was easy to fall into the routine of deciphering messages and passing them off to the proper departments. On the rare occasion where codes wouldn’t suffice for what needed to be said, he would catch a glimpse of a Model 5’s face before he transmitted the videoconference to the right line. It was complicated enough getting the signal into the metropolis without the ever-busy Model 5’s worrying about sending it to the right location.
As he worked, he processed what information he could find on the Soulfuls. The database was full of warnings, but little else. This had never bothered him before, but now he wondered why there was so little known about them and their condition.
It made him all the more curious, and it was harder than usual to go through the hours. Unfortunately, he still had no idea how he was going to leave early. It was rare for androids to leave duty before their time was up. Unscheduled absences usually only happened if the android needed to go in for repairs…
Wait…that might get him out.
In the middle of switching lines, KyuJong subtly opened the panel on his wrist. There was no need to be subtle, those around him absorbed in their work, but he didn’t want to take chances. He’d never purposely sabotaged his own circuits before. At least he was aware of which ones would be safe enough to touch, but would still result in needing repairs immediately.
At exactly 24 hours into his shift, he pinched a wire in his wrist and was rewarded by the system warning that flashed across his vision; one of his nerve points had been severed. He’d already lost feeling in that hand. It was simple enough to fix, but couldn’t wait until the end of his shift. An android without feeling in one hand couldn’t tell one command from the other, couldn’t operate the sensors properly, and could very well send a Model 5 signal in the completely wrong direction, maybe even to a completely different metropolis.
Putting his station on standby, KyuJong rose and walked out of the hallway filled with Model 6’s and flashing monitors. As expected, he was stopped by a hovering drone the size of his head before leaving the building.
“Reason for unscheduled absence?” it beeped at him.
“System error at 24 hours,” he reported to be logged into the database. “Ruptured nerve circuit in left hand.”
The drone floated down to his wrist and scanned it. Once it had confirmed the rupture, it beeped in confirmation and flew away.
Now he had an hour to get it repaired before he was due to meet the two Soulfuls. They were meeting in a repair shop anyways…he’d just visit the repair shop beside it. They were always located in groups.
He walked towards sector 4-17, the sector at the very edge of the city. KyuJong rarely came down this way; there was no need. He rarely went anywhere other than the sector he lived in and the sector he worked in. While he walked, he held his left hand against his chest to prevent banging it against anything. Having no feeling in a hand could be dangerous; he didn’t want to be missing digits on top of a severed nerve.
KyuJong reached the block of repair shops with 30 minutes to spare. Wondering if he would have the time to get it repaired, he looked into the other shops and was disappointed. After the last round of Soulful attacks, all the repair shops were full of androids who hadn’t gotten out of the way in time. A severed nerve wouldn’t take any priority over a droid with half his head blown off and a majority of his CPU missing.
Shaking his head, KyuJong looked down at his hand and decided to just leave it for now. He would make do with his right hand.
It was exactly 75 hours after the Soulfuls left his apartment when KyuJong turned around and caught a flash of red moving around the side of the repair building. Pausing, he blinked before following. He only knew of one android in the whole city with red hair.
He tailed the figure with red hair past the repair shop and along the row of vacant houses in the back. This sector used to be occupied with Model 8 androids, until the rebellion. The government hadn’t had use for the buildings yet, so they’d been left alone aside from the yearly upkeep.
KyuJong looked around at the buildings as they walked. He hadn’t been operative during the time of the rebellion; androids had an average live span of 200 years, and the rebellion had been nearly 4 centuries ago. All he knew about it was that the Model 8s had been given something by the humans no other Model had, and it had driven them…for lack of a better word…insane. Their software became scrambled and they started rampaging until the government class and law enforcement class shut them all down.
It was also the only time he could remember the Model 1 class becoming involved in a large decision. Model 1’s weren’t like the Models under them…they were the supercomputers that saw over each metropolis. They had no physical bodies, but were everywhere instead, and only Model 2’s knew how to communicate with them. They were the highest in the hierarchy you could get; when a Model 1 declared something, their law was absolute.
So when they decreed all Model 8’s be erased, it was only a matter of days before the entire line was eradicated.
Clearing his thoughts, KyuJong paused when he saw the figure with red hair turn another corner. Just where was he going? But he was too far into this to leave now, so the Model 6 followed without a word.
Turning a corner, KyuJong came up short at a hard press of metal against his chest, staring up into brown eyes. The man smiled down at him, but the pressure against his chest panel wasn’t friendly at all.
“Is this him?”
“Yes, and YoungSaeng’s going to twist you into knots if you shoot him,” JungMin rolled his eyes from behind the other man before smirking at KyuJong. “Didn’t think you were going to show up.”
KyuJong blinked, eyes wide as he looked down at the pressure against his chest. Some part of his memory recalled seeing this shape before, something the humans used to use. Another human artifact. Why did they even possess things like this?
“What’s your name?” the man holding the gun against him asked. KyuJong looked up at him, taking in his appearance. Model 4, he realized. He looked down quickly.
“65…” he started with his number automatically, and froze at the click from the gun. “K-Kim KyuJong,” he switched quickly, eyes wide.
“Better. Not a bad name.” The gun was removed and tucked into one pocket. “Kim HyunJoong.” A hand was offered instead. KyuJong blinked owlishly.
“He’s a hierarchy stickler,” JungMin called as he wandered down the alley.
“Oh?” The android who called himself HyunJoong chuckled. “One thing you’ll learn about us is that the hierarchy means nothing. How else would JungMin be able to get away with half of what he says?”
It made sense…kind of. Okay, not really. But KyuJong lifted his hand to shake the other man’s anyways, only when he did so realizing he’d lifted his left hand.
HyunJoong’s gaze landed on the limp hand and he frowned lightly. “In need of repairs, I see?” He took KyuJong’s hand and before the Model 6 could protest had flicked open his wrist panel. It was easy to see the severed wire. “This looks self-inflicted.”
“It was the only way I could leave my shift,” KyuJong replied.
The corner of the other man’s lips quirked. “Resourceful. Not bad, you’re already learning.”
“Huh?”
“Explanations will be later. JungMin, where’s HyungJoon? He needs to take a look at this.”
“Why can’t I fix it?” the redhead asked, lips pursed in a pout. “I’m Model 7 too.”
“Because no one in their right minds would give you a straight shot at their circuitry,” piped up a brown-haired man who’d appeared next to JungMin. The new arrival shrieked when JungMin hit him off the head.
“Just in time. Is this something you can fix, Joon?” HyunJoong asked.
The Model 7 named HyungJoon didn’t even look at KyuJong’s wrist. “Of course I can, what do you take me for? Not out here though. Is YoungSaeng ready?”
KyuJong blinked and looked around for the Model 3. Through all this, he had yet to appear.
“He’s ready,” JungMin said, grinning as he clapped his hands together and leaned down to open a small vent at the base of one of the buildings. Or at least, KyuJong thought it was a vent. The metal plate folded, then the wall beside it folded again, and again, until JungMin was opening up a doorway where there had been nothing but solid metal before.
“Let’s go then,” HyunJoong said with a chuckle, walking into the doorway the redhead had opened. HyungJoon smiled at KyuJong before following. JungMin motioned at KyuJong to go, and the Model 6 hesitated before doing as he was told. He heard JungMin closing the opening again behind them.
The hallway was dark and he had to use his motion sensors to detect where the walls were before he could crash into anything. Following HyungJoon as they turned through different corridors, KyuJong had the distinct feeling he was being watched from all angles, picked apart and examined, and he wondered just what he had gotten himself into.
There was the quick creak of an old door opening, and they stepped out into the room beyond. Hands grabbed KyuJong and he stiffened. “Don’t struggle,” JungMin said from behind him, but he wasn’t the one holding him as he was pressed against a wall, metal strips locking him in place before the hands were removed.
The lights flicked on, and KyuJong looked from one face to another. YoungSaeng was the one locking him against the wall, giving him a reassuring smile before stepping away.
“What’s going on?” he asked, eyes widening as his shirt was pulled up and fingers unlocked his chest panel. “Hey!” Were they going to shut him down?
“Relax,” YoungSaeng said quietly as HyungJoon removed the panel and focused on the circuitry inside. “We’ll explain in a minute.”
“I’d like an explanation now if you don’t mind,” KyuJong replied, trying to squirm away except the bindings were far too tight to allow for that. HyungJoon’s hands were inside his chest, working with the precision and delicacy every Model 7 possessed. KyuJong tried to see what he was doing, and couldn’t.
“Were you followed?” YoungSaeng asked JungMin as HyungJoon worked.
“At first,” JungMin nodded. “Little sentinel drone was tailing him. It was easy enough to lose though, they probably think we’re still in 4-15.”
“We aren’t?” KyuJong asked, trying to distract himself.
“Nope,” JungMin grinned at him. “Explanations later.”
KyuJong shut his eyes and rested his head against the wall, trying to ignore what HyungJoon was doing.
A minute later there was an “a-ha!” and HyungJoon pulled back. A small black cube half the width of his little finger was in his hand. “Found it.” YoungSaeng moved to close up KyuJong’s chest as the Model 6 blinked owlishly at the cube. “What’s that?” He didn’t recognize it as any part of his circuitry.
HyungJoon smiled grimly and crushed the cube between his fingers. “Tracking beacon, and microphone.”
The Model 6’s eyes widened, looking at what remained of the cube as the metal straps holding him down loosened and he could step away from the wall. “I didn’t even know that was there…”
“It’s something they slip in during manufacturing,” YoungSaeng explained. “We had to debug you before explaining anything…sorry for the rough treatment, KyuJong.”
“No, it’s a logical thing to do,” KyuJong replied, shaking his head.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s logical or not,” HyunJoong sighed. “That’s not how we work around here. You won’t get anywhere with thinking based solely on logic.”
“How else are you supposed to think?” KyuJong asked in confusion. He remembered the cryptic message YoungSaeng had given him the first time they met, placing one hand over his chest.
The others glanced at each other, except for HyungJoon; he’d stepped up to KyuJong’s side and opened his wrist panel to take a look at the severed nerve. “This is going to be fun,” JungMin murmured, dropping into a chair.
“KyuJong, what do you know about humans?” HyunJoong asked, watching the Model 6. “About how they thought?”
Frowning, KyuJong leaned against the wall as he considered the question. “I know they didn’t value logic…they were capable of it, but their logic was faulty at times and at others their decisions totally lacked even an attempt at it.”
“How did they make those decisions, KyuJong ah?” YoungSaeng asked quietly, watching from beside JungMin. “Decisions don’t just happen out of thin air…the vast majority of them. There is always a motive and reasoning behind it, even if it isn’t logic-driven. What was used in making those decisions?”
“I…” KyuJong frowned as he realized here was another question he had no answer to. Trying to tap into the collective database automatically, he was surprised when he came up to a wall he couldn’t get around. Wherever they were now, the walls were insulated to prevent signals from entering or leaving. “I don’t know.”
“KyuJong…How did you come up with that name?” YoungSaeng pressed. “It didn’t just come out of thin air.”
“Well…it kind of did.”
“That’s not what I mean. You saw it yourself…it ‘fit’. Is that a logical response, KyuJong? Why not that other name you tried…JunTae, was it? Why did you call yourself KyuJong instead of JunTae? It’s not like our identification numbers, which are sorted by manufacturing date. Names have no order other than alphabetically, and that wasn’t how you decided your name.”
He had a point, and KyuJong found he couldn’t answer. He didn’t know why he’d chosen that name. He’d watched them about to leave, and realized that if he didn’t say something then, then he was going to lose his only chance of ever finding out what drove these people to do what they did. The name had come unbidden to his lips, and he hadn’t even known he was thinking about it until after he’d spoken.
“It was the same for your last name,” JungMin spoke up, grinning widely.
“You didn’t scare it out of him, did you?” HyungJoon groaned from where he was repairing the nerve in KyuJong’s wrist.
“It worked, didn’t it?” JungMin pouted.
“Actually, that makes things a lot easier to explain,” HyunJoong smiled, leaning forward. “Why did you answer JungMin, KyuJong?”
KyuJong blinked. “He was up in my face, and shouted suddenly.”
“It startled you, didn’t it?” YoungSaeng smiled in amusement. KyuJong nodded.
“That’s one of the things that used to influence humans.” KyuJong looked up at HyunJoong as he spoke. “Surprise, or fear. Those, happiness, anger…what are they labeled as, KyuJong?”
“Emotions?” KyuJong asked, blinking.
“Exactly. Emotions motivated humans just as much as logic did, if not more. The average android is capable of emotions, but you will never see it. You know why?”
KyuJong shook his head.
HyunJoong smiled wider. “It all comes down to programming. You can’t feel something if your programming forbids it.”
“Do you know why we’re called Soulfuls?” YoungSaeng asked. HyungJoon closed KyuJong’s wrist panel and stepped away; KyuJong flexed his fingers and was pleased to note the nerve had been repaired.
“No,” the Model 6 replied, shaking his head as he looked up from his hand. “Why?”
“Because we can override our programming,” JungMin piped up, grin widening. “We can choose what we want to do, even if it wouldn’t occur to another android because it’s totally illogical. We can act on emotions, like you did when I spooked you into saying your last name. That wasn’t a programmed response, it was all you.”
“We have what the humans called a soul,” HyungJoon finished, hopping up onto a counter sticking out of the wall and swinging his legs back and forth. “We can’t be controlled by anything or anyone, not even a Model 1.”
KyuJong stared at them, unable to comprehend. A soul? He knew the word, but it didn’t work that way for them. They were artificial intelligence, not a shred of organic matter to be found in their bodies, all synthetic skin and hair and wires and circuits. They didn’t have brains, they had CPUs. They didn’t have a heart, they had a power core. How could an android possess a soul?
“You all really are virus-infected,” he said after a moment. JungMin covered his face with one hand.
YoungSaeng patted the redheaded android’s shoulder. “Relax, Min. It always takes a while at first.”
“Then what about you?” HyunJoong asked simply. KyuJong looked back at him, and took a step back when the Model 4 took a step forward. HyunJoong paused at the movement, and smiled. “If we’re just piles of virus-scrambled circuits and faulty wiring, what does that make you? Why did you just take a step back, KyuJong?”
“Because…” KyuJong floundered for a moment. “Because the virus is contagious.”
“Nonsense. Your CPU has already registered the fact that simply for being in the same room as all of us, you are most likely already infected. A step back won’t change anything. You did that out of fear.”
“But…fear is illogical,” KyuJong tried, not sure how he should be taking this.
“Actually, fear is a very logical emotion, you only think it’s illogical because it’s not something you’re used to feeling, or seeing others feel.” HyunJoong shook his head. “But you can feel it, and that makes you just like us. Whether you call it a soul or a virus makes no different. You can feel so much more than the other androids can.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” the Model 6 protested weakly, but he was starting to see where they were going. It wasn’t normal to feel fear. It wasn’t normal to be so curious and ask questions, even going to the extreme of injuring himself to escape from a job he had the utmost privilege of occupying.
“Once you start looking at things a certain way, you find not a lot makes sense anymore,” YoungSaeng said, seeming sympathetic to his confusion. “You have to make your own sense of it, and take changes as they come.” He stepped away from JungMin, walking up to KyuJong. “What do you think, KyuJong?” he asked, tilting his head to one side and holding out a hand. “Want to see what life can really be like?”
KyuJong looked down at the offered hand. He wasn’t stupid…YoungSaeng was asking if he wanted to join them, be a Soulful as well. Part of him was curious, infinitely curious, wanting to know more about this idea of having a soul and how to think like they did, wondering what it was that lured them into this lifestyle.
But he still didn’t understand…and it didn’t change the fact that they blew up buildings and sabotaged transit units, landing hundreds of androids in the repair shops and hundreds more in a scrap heap. How did having a ‘soul’ excuse that kind of behavior?
He didn’t understand it.
Shaking his head, KyuJong took a step back. “I’m sorry, but I’m not interested in joining you.”
“…” YoungSaeng lowered his hand and nodded with a small smile. “We understand. It’s a lot to take in.”
KyuJong nodded, lips pressed together. “I will take my leave now.”
The others got out of his way as he moved towards the door they had just came from. “I’ll show you out,” HyunJoong smiled and opened the door.
“Nice meeting you, KyuJong,” HyungJoon called sadly.
The three young men watched KyuJong and HyunJoong disappear into the darkness of the tunnels, heading back to 4-15. The door swung shut soundlessly after them.
“Do you think we’ll see him again?” HyungJoon asked, looking over at them. JungMin pulled YoungSaeng down onto his lap and shrugged.
“I think we will,” YoungSaeng smiled, making himself comfortable as they waited for HyunJoong to return. “He’s curious now.”
And curiosity was one of the strongest emotions of all.