Chapter Text
"How long is this gonna take?" Skull grumbled, peeking out from behind the threshold. The door was open and everyone was either waiting out of sight in that hallway, or back in the large storage room they'd first teleported into. The corridor from that area opened up into various other small areas, and a larger expanse that seemed to lead deeper into the fortress. The combat units had repositioned just outside that door, waiting to apprehend an unsuspecting robot master.
"We've no way of knowing that," Pharaoh told him, and held up a finger to shush him. "Just wait here, and bring the first one-"
"Screw that. I thought time was a factor here. I got an idea - let's just wander around and pretend to be infected."
"That's ridiculous."
"No it's not! Ever see that movie Zombie Crawl?"
"I don't watch movies. I have a job."
"Kiss my coccyx! I watched it at the retirement home, flap-head! The point is, the characters fooled the zombies by rubbing rotten zombie-crud all over themselves and shambling around like… y’know, zombies. Let's just go act like we're dosed up on REM and grill the crowd for answers," Skull suggested, with more enthusiasm than most of his contributions that day.
Pharaoh frowned. “I’m sorry - this is a film the residents selected to watch, or…?”
“It’s not important.”
"Right. And suppose another robot asks you to identify yourself somehow? What if there's a passcode of some sort, shared by the infected?"
"Then we shoot 'em - bang! And we move down the line," Skull said with gleeful eyes.
"No. No bangs. Certainly not while wandering the crowd." He heard footsteps and perked up momentarily, but it was just Kalinka quietly checking in on them. Pharaoh nodded, and sent her back to safety. "Listen, Skull Man. We've seen Sniper Joe units passing through nearby already. It stands to reason that as long as this place is open to drones, it's open to master-types. Some robot or another will be along shortly, I'd wager."
"Sure, great. Today seems like a good day to play the odds."
There had been a lot of friction over the course of the day. Friction yielded polish, so had said Dr. Cossack, but Pharaoh knew there was a limit, beyond which their polished form would simply disintegrate. "This is the safest option. And I'm trusting you to do your part well in keeping our young mistress safe. I can trust you, can't I?"
Skull scoffed. "What do you take me for?"
Pharaoh put a hand on his shoulder. "All right. You have my faith then," Pharaoh said, and Skull turned partway around to give him and his sudden earnestness a queer look. "You and Ring are better suited to a quiet acquisition of your target than I am. I'll go check on Kalinka."
"Ah, she's fine. Stick around, I might need you to hold someone's legs or something," Skull said, taking another conservative peek around the threshold.
Pharaoh shook his head and stepped away, already heading back into the other room. "Kalinka is shaken by our circumstances; she needs company."
"There's like six more of us back there!" Skull insisted, but Pharaoh was wordlessly firm on the matter. With a derisive clicking noise, Skull turned away, and rolled his eyes dramatically at Ring, who was quietly, patiently listening to their exchange - something that was rapidly becoming Ring’s secondary duty. Skull shrugged, and said nothing. "Whatever. When did you get to be such a suck-up, Tut?"
Pharaoh hesitated to answer, not wishing to acknowledge the jab, though it was something he questioned himself. "I'm not sure. Something changed, some time ago. The doctor has theories-"
"Shh! Shut the hell up a second," Skull demanded, reaching back to swat Pharaoh where his lips would have been. "Looks like luck’s with us, boys. We got us a patsy."
Leaning down to get a look around Skull's side of the door, Pharaoh was surprised to see what Skull's idea of an easy mark was. "Not to hurt your confidence, but are you sure about this? He looks as if he'd put up a struggle, to say the least." Their subject was a purple robot with an arm cannon, heavily armoured and covered in needle-sharp metal spikes.
"Not a chance. This guy was at that tournament a few years ago. He's a chump." Stepping out of the shadows, Skull called out, "Hey! Pacifist Man!"
"Pacifist…?"
The armed, purple porcupine, who had been strolling by without a care, turned to look. "... Skull Man, isn't it?"
"Yeah. So. Got a second? I had a question about, uh… peaceful protest?"
"Oh. Why, certainly. I am rather idle at the moment. A stirring conversation on the subject of diplomacy would be-"
"Great! Me and a couple other guys here could really use your input. Come on in." He glanced at Ring, who just winked.
"I'll leave you to it then," Pharaoh said quietly. "I should make sure Kalinka is hidden again, just to be safe." He slipped away quickly, returning to the others. Kalinka was standing amidst the Cossack numbers, waiting for an update.
She started to move toward the door, but Pharaoh raised his hands and ushered her back. "What happened? Did you find a robot?"
"We did. You should stay hidden, Kalinka. In a moment, the two-"
"Get him!!" he heard Skull Man shout from the hall, followed by the sounds of a scuffle.
"As I was saying, momentarily, we'll-"
"The antenna! Smash his antenna!!"
Pharaoh looked back at the door, losing his confidence by the moment. "Ring and-"
CRACK!
He paused, waited for more, and heard nothing. "... At any rate, please hide yourself. For your safety, we can't expose your presence." More commotion, the clatter of body parts against the ground, and some frustrated grunting; Pharaoh looked back again at the empty door.
Kalinka frowned, leaning over to look past him. "Is everything okay?"
"Sincerely, I would love to be able to offer a confident answer in the affirmative," Pharaoh said.
"Oh, come on!," came Skull's voice. "Damn it. Just… Hoops, c'mere. We gotta lift him. I'll grab the legs, you get his shoulders."
Ring responded, "I'm not grabbing his shoulders, they're sharp." He didn't hear Pacifist Man's voice at all, which was concerning.
"You hold sharp stuff all the time! That's your whole thing!"
"That's different," Ring shot back. “What about your force field? Maybe we can-”
"I can't move with the shield up, dingus! Look, just… grab the other leg." That was shortly followed by the sound of several pointed metal edges being dragged noisily across the floor, a few feet at a time. "I don't believe this garbage. Stupid wussy robot…"
Kalinka stepped away, towards a handful of crates that had been pushed into the corner like a makeshift fort. "I'll just be over here," she said, and crouched down out of sight to listen to the proceedings.
Pharaoh prepared himself for the worst, though managed to hope for the best. Unfortunately, he saw more or less what he expected as the others rejoined him, as Skull and Ring entered the room dragging the inert form of Pacifist Man by his feet, leaving scour marks on the floor that he could only pray no one would notice in the hall. "Skull Man! What part of this plan eluded you?"
Skull dropped his leg to the floor with a clunk. "Oh, what now, your majesty?"
"We can't interrogate a robot that you've completely disabled! We needed information!"
Ring chimed in. "He isn't disabled."
"... What?"
"I'm fine," Pacifist Man said, crossing his arms but remaining on his back. "Apart from my ravaged wireless box, thank you very much."
"Way to assume it's my fault, by the way," Skull grumbled.
"Sorry. I shouldn't have… Wait, why isn't he walking? Did you disable his legs? Pacifist Man, are you damaged?"
"He's not damaged, he's just being a wimp!" Skull growled, and kicked his prisoner in the neck. He must have connected with something sharp, as he drew his foot back with a gouge in the top of his boot. "Aw, damn it! You stupid-! Why do you even have those?!"
"I believe you just demonstrated why. And I'm not cooperating with a gaggle of boorish battle-bots like you!"
"Pacifist Man, please," Pharaoh said, trying to regain control of the situation.
“I know my rights!”
"I know this seems barbaric, but human life is in danger and we need your help." The poor, beleaguered pacifist craned his head up to frown judgementally at Pharaoh, but didn't protest any further at least. "All we need is information. If you're undamaged, could you stand up please?"
"No," he snapped, crossing his arms tighter and glaring stubbornly into the ceiling lights.
"Why not?"
"I'm employing nonviolent resistance. Something you meathead war machines probably know nothing about."
Skull growled, arming his blaster. Before anyone else could say a word, he pointed his gun at their uncooperative captive, and blew a hole in the side of his head. In a flash, Pacifist Man protested his last, the rest of his chassis locking up. "Hey, that's funny! I don't feel very resisted!" There was a moment of perfect silence as the other robots stared at him.
"Skull Man!!" Pharaoh shouted.
"What?! He already said he wasn't going to tell us anything!" Looking down at the wreck at his feet, Skull kicked at the remainder of Pacifist Man's head. "Purple wuss."
"You didn't even give me the chance to negotiate!"
"You're not a negotiator, you're an assistant grave-robber. And even if you were, we don't have time for you to sit down and hash out a treaty with that chump. So now," he said as he pointed to the smoldering heap, "the next time we grab a robot, we show 'em what happens if they don't talk. Boom. Instant diplomacy," Skull finished with a mischievous humour. "Battle-bots! Up top!" He turned to Ring Man with his hand raised for a high five.
His cohort, however, did nothing but shake his head. "Bones…"
That seemed to sober Skull up a little, who looked around the room for moral support. Kalinka peeked over the edge of her cover, murmuring, "I'm getting the impression we've veered off from the plan..."
"All right, listen," Skull began, but Pharaoh was already in his face again.
"No more of this."
"This is faster! You don't get it, Tut!” he growled. “Maybe if you were a real battle-bot and not some moonlighting pointdexter, you'd-"
Pharaoh gave him a shove, cutting him off. "Be quiet. From this moment on, you will not discharge your weapon unless I give the order! Is that clear?"
"The hell I won't! You're not my leader! We don't even know if you're on our side!"
Ring Man appeared between them in a flash. "Nope! We're not doing this anymore." He grabbed each of them by the arm, and hauled them apart. Both of them struggled; both of them were held easily, almost casually, in Ring Man's grip.
Looking down at the digits clamped around him, Pharaoh remarked, "You have very strong hands."
"Flattered. Listen, we've been through this too many times. You two are boring me. Here's the deal." He looked at Pharaoh and then Skull, speaking to them in turn. "You? Don't overstep. And you! Don't point your gun at anything that isn't a threat! All right? Beauty. Let's just reset, and see what turns up." Ring released his comrades, as one might release a pair of rowdy dogs from the back of a truck.
Pharaoh checked his arm for dents. "I'm only trying to lead, Ring Man."
"Yeah? Well, in case you forgot, we're stuck behind enemy lines in the middle of bloody woop woop Alaska! We're not getting out of this if we can't cooperate!"
"Then perhaps you'd like to help me get Skull Man's antics under control," said Pharaoh bitterly.
Throwing his arms out, Ring declared, "Right! Okay then! The king's officially passing the buck! You all heard it, right? You're all good with me taking over as leader?" he asked the group.
Tundra Man put his hands up like there was a gun in his face. "Don't bring me into this! I don't even know what's going on!"
"Boys, this isn't getting us anywhere," Kalinka groaned, crawling out of the corner.
Ring relaxed a little. "I know, miss. Time is of the essence and all that. Goodness knows how long we've spent in Wily's broom closet."
Bright Man piped up. "It's been exactly four hours and-"
"Bright, we've all got clocks. I was being rhetorical."
Pharaoh didn't like the direction things were going, but decided it was better to roll forward than fight it. "All right. Ring Man? If you're going to lead us, what would you like us to do? I assume you're not supplanting me just to carry on with the original plan."
Glancing back at the hall door, Ring faltered for a second. "Ehh… Right. I'll tell you what." He pointed at the group. "Reckon we've got time before another robot shows up, so let's go around the table. Anyone got some ideas?”
Skull Man scoffed. “Yeah, sure. Let’s ask the civvies how we’ll bust out of a heavily-guarded fortress. How about Dive Man? He’s got an eye for strategy, right?”
Looking fed up with all the sarcasm in the room, Ring turned his gaze on the great blue form of their favorite fisherman. “Well, um… Any thoughts, Dive?”
After taking a few seconds to confirm that he was actually being asked for advice, and to give Skull Man the chance to flail frustratedly, Dive spoke up. “Well... When encountering disturbance in my path, it is my preference to simply dive, and swim beneath trouble.” Sensing the awkward silence that followed, he shrugged. “It is core function of my design.”
“No, no, that’s great,” Skull said, clapping and rubbing his hands together. “Let’s go, guys! To the bottom of the sea! Maybe we’ll find some pirate treasure! Or should we grill the rest of the crowd before we make a decision? Hey, new guy!” he barked at Tundra Man. “What about you? Any ideas?”
“Will everyone stop pointing at me?!”
“Fine, forget it. If we’re gonna just shut our brains down, I’ll go ahead and turn on my comms now and let the virus just go nuts on me.”
“Bones.”
“Seriously, look at this! I’m getting a lazy eye! My CPU’s crashing! Dive’s sinkin’ my battleship!”
While Ring tried to wrangle the conversation, the gears had made a few rotations in Pharaoh Man’s head. “Actually… I think Dive Man might be onto something.”
“Of course you do!” Skull cried, his voice filling with desperate exasperation.
Ring was confused for a moment, but he seemed to catch on. “Oh… Yeah, maybe. Good thinking, Dive.”
“What? No,” Skull protested. “No, shut up. Hoops, you’re the only guy here I can talk to. Don’t leave me, man.”
“You’re not helping, you know. Let’s just see where this takes us.”
“Great!” he shouted, throwing his hands in the air, pacing anxiously toward the door. “Everyone’s lost it but me! You guys have fun with that! Maybe I’ll go see if I can find Yamato Man, so he can teach me how to commit ritual seppuku!”
Ring grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back to the group, hurling Skull down onto his back. “Were you programmed to be this sarcastic, or is that just something you do?”
“Gotta have a hobby.”
“Right. King?” he said, looking up at Pharaoh who was down on one knee, touching his palm to the floor panels.
Pharaoh Man found himself accomplishing very little on the floor, which was as expected. “Drill Man, could you lend me a hand?”
“Is that some kinda crack, bud?”
“Your ground-penetrating radar is far more powerful. Mine was only intended to detect recesses in stonework. I need you to analyze the composition of the ground beneath us. Tell us everything you can.”
"Oh, sure thing! Lemme see, here." As Pharaoh stood, Drill Man spaced himself away from the others, and planted his feet. A short, hopeful time passed as he went about his work. "All righty. So I'm guessing about twelve centimeters of layered metal, a couple different compositions. Reinforced concrete foundation, then it's compacted earth and plain old rock all the way down, with some metal stuff laced in. There's some little wiggly-type structures going all over the place; probably power cables and plumbing and such."
"Making it unsafe to dig here," Pharaoh added, resigned to yet more bad news.
"Yeah, 'fraid so. There's a lotta metal on top there anyway. I could probably get through eventually, but we'd be making a lotta noise for a real long time."
Scrabbling for hope, Pharaoh asked, "Is it possible there could be a good location in this fortress to tunnel out from?"
"Well hey, don't get me wrong, the ground here under the floor is great for it. But it all depends on whether we can find a break in the floor layers. It's pretty darn sturdy, no joke, bud. Probably steel panels layered with cermet components, so no melting our way through either. It’s modern industry standard for this kinda site. Might've even been here already, and Wily just redecorated."
"Think he put a skull on top?" Skull asked.
"We know he put a skull on top," Ring replied, and Skull nodded in conservative approval.
After considering their options for a moment, Pharaoh resumed his command, regardless of Ring Man's mildly hostile takeover. "All right. Let’s consider that an additional priority, then. We don't know where the nearest proper exit is, so I'd like you to continue monitoring our terrain for a suitable point of egress through the floor."
"Gotcha."
"So, what? No more taking prisoners?" Skull asked. "Fine with me. Not gonna lie, the first time kinda sucked."
"Well… No, we still need a direction to search in. At the very least, we need someone who can point us away from high-threat areas of the fortress."
"Should one of you guys be watching the door then?" Drill asked, pointing one of his bits toward the exit.
They followed his gesture, and realized he was probably right. Then, in the quiet following that question, they heard something. Noise from outside the room. Small, subtle footsteps first, like those of a cautious explorer. They were followed by exactly what they didn’t want to hear.
“Huh. Well now, what happened to the floor?”
-
“Mikhail, just calm down and think!”
“Calm down?!” Dr. Cossack shouted, his arms loaded with six different devices, one of which he hoped would be able to contact his missing daughter, or the truant robots that had absconded with her.
“Yes!” Light smacked his hand down on his desk, shaking the vidcom feed. “For goodness’ sake, one of us has to be rational today!”
Cossack dumped his cargo on the table, and his shaking hands nearly sent his cell phone off the edge as he grasped for it. “Her phone… I’ll try her phone… Surely she wouldn’t turn it off… Would they turn it off, though? Those damned traitors!”
“Mikhail, your boys didn’t make off with Kalinka!”
“Well, I very much doubt the opposite happened! My daughter would never-” He paused as a tone sounded in his ear, signalling the call was being attempted. Unfortunately, three rings passed, and then a little automated voice let him know his call wasn’t going anywhere after all. He raised the phone as if to pitch it to the ground, then thought better of it. “Thomas, my daughter may not want to spend her weekend at home, but I very much doubt she’d take nine robot masters out for a joyride with her! And she wouldn’t take herself completely off the grid during an emergency!”
Shaking his head, Light spoke again, and Cossack could tell, annoyingly, that he was keeping his voice deliberately level, as if negotiating with Cossack’s mood. “That’s not what I’m saying. The onset of REM is delayed, and the speed of its takeover varies from unit to unit. Unless all nine of your boys contracted it at the same moment and happened to succumb at exactly the same rate, there’s no reason to assume the virus made them leave. Much less with your little girl in tow.”
“Then why can’t I contact any of them?!” Cossack demanded. He fumbled around on the table for a tablet computer, but gave up, hunched over and trembling. “How can this be happening again? My robots, in his clutches. Kalinka, too… How? What have I done? What did I do to curse my family with this madness?” His fingers dug into his scalp; he clenched his jaw until his roots stung. Broken robots, he could handle. This was beyond reason.
“Mikhail. Take a breath.”
“Don’t condescend to me, Light!”
“I’m not. There is a solution here. Somewhere. We won’t find it if we can’t stay calm. Now breathe.” He waited until Cossack had sucked in a breath before continuing. “Now, have you tried ordering a recall?”
“They won’t respond to communications…”
“Forget communicating for now. Just send an emergency recall signal at top priority. Force them back.”
Dr. Cossack shook his head violently, increasingly bothered with Light’s troubleshooting. “I can’t do that! Even if they obeyed my signal, they may not return with Kalinka! She could be stranded!”
“One by one, then. Signal them one after another, and when one returns, find out what’s happening. Mikhail,” he pleaded, “I’m telling you, you need to calm down and think this through. Panicking won’t help matters.”
He could have lashed out again, but what good would it have done? Cossack swallowed his frustration and his pride, and took Light’s advice. After a moment of silence to collect himself, he picked up the handheld computer, took it away to his desk, and began the process of hard-line commanding his robots, beginning with his most recently hailed unit, which happened to be Dust Man. With his left hand occupied with that, his right grabbed the mouse of his PC and started sifting through records. No direct messages from his units; they had left without a word to him. None from Kalinka either. He struggled to think of what could have compelled her to disappear without a trace or a line of communication, but fearfully he realized there was simply no reason. “What could I have done?” he mused quietly, while Light sat waiting for news. “What did I miss? What could I have done to stop this?”
“Did the recall order garner any response at all?”
Cossack took his eyes off his messages, and checked the tablet. UNIT UNAVAILABLE. He pounded his fist on the desk. A dirty dish with the sticky crumbs from his breakfast rattled off its precarious perch on the rear corner, and smashed to pieces on the floor between the desk and server cabinet. “It didn’t work!”
“What happened?” Light pressed.
“It didn’t damn well work, Light! What now?!”
“What was the response?”
“Unavailable! So what now?”
Light seemed to take that in, resting his mouth behind his tented fingers for a few seconds as he considered that answer. “Then it’s not that they won’t respond. It’s that they can’t.”
Though it took him a few seconds to come back down to earth again from his fuming discontent, Dr. Cossack realized that Light was correct. He hadn’t received a response of noncompliance, but an indication that something was preventing him from reaching that unit at all. He took another deep breath. Light was right about that, too. “So… what now?” he repeated.
“Try the rest. One at a time. You’re right - best not to chance Kalinka being stranded without company. Try sending messages as well. If they’re not actively refusing your call, that might be more prudent.”
Cossack nodded, and quietly went about his work, his heart settling somewhat now that there was a plan, however shortsighted it might have been. With a sigh, and a bitter smile toward the man on the other end of the call, he admitted, “It would seem the tables turned; you bringing me back to my senses, that is.”
“Well, I suppose crisis-handling is something of a necessary skill now, with LightLabs being a de facto hero factory. Now, who else can we contact?”
“Who else?”
Light nodded, leaning in until his image took up most of the video feed. “We can’t do this alone. Until a few hours ago, there was no one in real danger. But Rock is missing, and now Kalinka as well,” he said, unknowingly hitting a sour note with Cossack as he so likened his robot to Cossack’s daughter. “If they’re indeed both wrapped up in this, we can’t count on Wily to take good care of them, can we? It’s time to start looking into options for ending this, and taking them back.”
“Such as?”
“Well… I could make arrangements with someone. Someone… mysterious?”
Cossack lit up, hopeful in spite of it all. “Oh! Yes, Blues, of course!”
“What?”
Having not heard from the elusive DLN-000 in some time, he’d nearly forgotten that Blues was out there somewhere. “He’s likely to be clean. He never answers any… calls,” he finished, deflating instantly.
With a sigh, Light agreed. “Very true. Proto Man would be a valuable ally right now, but I’m afraid I can’t get through to my eldest. Which is no surprise,” he muttered. In a rather cagey manner, he went on. “No, I meant someone… just a hair more mysterious than Blues,” Light chuckled. “A mysterious mister, if you will.”
Dr. Cossack had to ponder Light’s bizarre phrasing for a few seconds, before the implication dawned on him, and the panic almost set in again. “No! Absolutely not!”
“He has a great many resources at his disposal, and not just firepower. It’s possible he’s already discovered a lead on Wily’s location. Though knowing him, he’s as likely to sell that information to another military company as to act on it himself…”
“Oh, no. You’re right,” Cossack said, dreading the thought. “Tom, we can’t have weapons involved. Kalinka could very well be held in Wily’s fortress! If anyone tries to mount an offense,” he pointed out in a terribly dire tone, “my little girl could be caught in the crossfire! We can’t let anyone mobilize against Wily, not now!”
“We don’t know that she’s there for sure… but I see your point,” Light agreed. “Just relax. Mr. X and I have an arrangement already. Mega Man has long since demonstrated his effectiveness at taking point in these situations. The X Foundation’s forces and allies are all willing to wait for him to bring down the master before moving in to suppress other activity.”
“... You’re too confident in this process.”
“Well, it’s tried and true at this point. That, and it’s a question of image - he says it’s a good look to follow Mega Man’s act,” Light explained with an unconcerned shrug. “Rock going AWOL isn’t news yet, and I’ve already made my position of nonaggression in this crisis public. As far as anyone knows, Mega Man is still waiting in the wings in case I can’t solve this with antivirus alone.”
His heart steadied somewhat, Cossack turned the idea over in his head. “So we still have time. Can we trust him to be cautious?”
“I trust him to listen to me. LightLabs has been his ally before. In all fairness, I think he trusts Rock more than he trusts me. But then, so do I. Can’t fault him for that.”
“You both put too much faith in machines,” Cossack grumbled. He may have been comfortable assuming that his units could work without him watching, but their behaviour was ultimately an expression of human intentions; trusting them more than their overseers was foolishness.
That seemed to bother Light, who shot him a judgemental look. “You think so? Well, I suppose in much the same way you temper me, perhaps Mr. X’s faith in our counterparts can be tempered by dear Agnieszka.”
“By…! Hoh, ye gods,” Cossack said, his entire body rippling with violent chills. “Thomas. Whatever happens… What ever happens… Her mother cannot know about any of this.”
“No promises,” Light answered simply, and Cossack clutched his chest as he felt his heart age ten years in a flash.
-
“Hide!” Pharaoh hissed, as quietly as he could while still being heard by his cohorts. Kalinka dove for cover behind her crate fortress again. Some of the other robots ran for the closet. Pharaoh grabbed the ruined chassis of Pacifist Man and tossed it to Dive Man, who hefted it easily over his shoulder on his way there. Ring and Skull pressed themselves against the wall a small distance from the doorway to the hall, where their interloper would be coming from.
That left Pharaoh standing in the middle of the room alone, with the other two battle-bots waiting in the wings and the rest of the group in hiding. In truth, it would have made more sense for Skull Man to stay in the open, where he could attack or defend as necessary, but the fact was that Pharaoh just didn’t have the instincts to take position without being told, so there he remained, exposed.
More footsteps, careful and unsure. After a break, they heard the sound of something else, some kind of device being deployed. They waited for something or someone to reveal themselves, Pharaoh prepared to stand and fight and give the others a chance to engage from behind.
The tiniest scraping sound heralded a new presence in the room, as a miniature robotic snake slithered through the door. It raised its head, rather endearing in its simple, diminutive probing, and stared down Pharaoh, who already knew exactly who it belonged to, and who they'd be accosting next. An ally, unfortunately.
That was when he caught Skull Man frantically waving at him from the wall. As soon as Pharaoh looked up, Skull began feverishly signing: TOAD MAN CALL TOAD MAN
He looked to Ring, who was nodding enthusiastically. Pharaoh didn’t know what their plan was - hopefully not to feed one robot to another - but now wasn’t the time to doubt his comrades. “Er… Toad Man?” he called gingerly toward the storage closet. “You can come out now.”
The newcomer’s voice echoed from the hallway into the room, rough and brassy with a warm countryside accent that really had no business bouncing off the walls of dark caves on dead planets. “Hey, is that Pharaoh Man? How ya doin’, pardner?”
“I’m well, Snake Man. How did the expedition on Mars fare?” Snake had been built by Drs. Light and Wily just before the original crisis, and was one of the few remaining relics of their collaborations early in the modern age of robotics. However, he was officially designated DLN-022, after Wily forfeited his registration to Light following the Gamma debacle. He was a rare sight, as Snake worked off-planet for months at a time, often only returning for certification. The two had not met in person for quite a while.
“Coulda used a hand from a fellow spelunker. But you know me,” Snake said, picking up his search snake sub-unit like a scampering pet. “A lonesome rover, a frontier-wandering poet of the stars. Solitude suits me like a fresh skin after a molt.”
“You are, as always, a tremendous lyricist. And the new radar supplied by Cossack Roboto-Tekhnika? Was it of use?”
“Sure as slitherin'. So! Yer lookin’ good! Still stylishly dressed - from the eyebrows up, anyhow,” Snake said and pointed to the cobra sticking out of Pharaoh’s forehead, having himself a good chuckle over it. Then he pointed at the floor. “Oh, speakin’ of appearances, you got any idea who went and scratched up the-”
Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of another robot tripping all over himself as he fell out of his hiding place in the closet's threshold, his rubbery body bouncing off the floor. Pharaoh had nearly forgotten calling Toad back into the room. It seemed politeness was not the reason he’d stayed silent until now, as he seemed very reluctant to be a part of this plan. “I’m fine… You don’t have to come over here or anything… I’m good…” Toad whined, glancing nervously up at them.
“Toad Man! Hey, how ya doin’? I ain’t seen ya in a frog’s age!” As he approached, brushing right past Pharaoh, it was clear from Toad’s body language that he had no zest for the occasion, though Snake didn’t seem to notice.
“Uh, y-yeah. Howdy.”
Pharaoh spoke up from behind. “I wasn’t aware you two were so well acquainted,” he said as he moved in closer, and placed himself beside Toad Man. The others were still prepared to flank from behind, and Pharaoh needed Snake’s attention drawn the other way.
“Well, sure! From a ways back. Me an’ him met at that robot tournament years ago.”
“Was everyone invited to that but me?” Pharaoh asked, starting to feel a little left out.
Snake Man shrugged. “Dunno, pardner. Maybe you were too important, heh!” He reached out and slapped Pharaoh on the arm. “Speakin’ of important, I was just about to head for the command-center of this place, see if the big man needs anything.”
“You mean… Wily?”
“Yeah! He probably don’t need anything from a guy like me, but… heck, I’m bored.”
Treading carefully, Pharaoh tried to seize the opportunity, not knowing his time was just about up anyway. “As… engaging as that sounds, perhaps you could direct us to the nearest exit?”
“What? Ain’t nothin’ but plain old mountainside out there. Trust me, I checked. The action’s all in here. Such as it is.”
“Yes, well… As an exploration unit, I suppose I just feel compelled to sate my… curiosity?”
He received no response. Snake’s eyes were pointed away. Across the room, though not in the direction of the other battle-bots, luckily enough. But when Pharaoh realized what Snake was staring at, it seemed like every circuit in his brain fired at once, in something akin to what a human might call an adrenaline rush. He was looking directly at a certain pile of crates that had been concealing their most precious companion. And, his eyes were subtly shifting, giving away his use of some altered mode of sight. Infrared thermal vision, Snake Man’s specialty. “Who in the heck…?”
“Snake Man? Where’s your communication antenna?” Pharaoh asked quickly.
“Huh?” His attention seemed divided, for just a crucial second. “It’s right here,” he said, raising the snake’s tail that was dangling from his head. “Why-” A Ring Boomerang blitzed through it not a second later, severing it neatly near its base, and slicing a smooth divide into part of Snake’s headgear. In the moment of confusion, Pharaoh grabbed him by the shoulders, slammed him to his stomach, and began charging a Pharaoh Shot, letting its light shine where Snake couldn’t possibly miss it.
“I can not believe that actually worked,” came Ring’s voice from their hiding place.
Skull scoffed. “Man, civvie bots couldn’t defend themselves from a hotplate.”
Pharaoh Man took command of the situation. “Do not move, Snake Man.”
“Aw, c’mon! I thought we were friends!”
“We are,” Pharaoh assured him. “We can be, still. But I think you understand why I have to keep you quiet.”
“That’s a human back there! What’re they doin’ here? That ain’t the girl, is it? The one from yer-”
“You don’t need to know. Just follow my instructions and… nothing more has to go wrong today.”
“Hey, Pharaoh, c’mon now. I don’t wanna hurt nobody. Not you, and least of all the little lady.”
“You… don’t?” Perhaps it had been a wrongful assumption, but Pharaoh had expected the worst, had assumed that every robot in the building would be at least somewhat of a threat to the safety of all of them. It was just how these things went, after all.
Snake raised his head a little, shaking it and sending a few sparks off his fresh-cut snake mullet. “Course not! We still got our Laws, don’t we? Which is a nice change from last time, now that I think about it…”
“We do? You do? Your Three Laws programming, it’s intact?”
“What, ‘n yers ain't?” Snake challenged, frowning up at him. And then, over a matter of seconds, Pharaoh realized something he’d misunderstood about all of this, just as Snake realized something about the Cossack-bots. “... Y’all ain’t infected, are ya?”
“Be quiet. Please. This is a matter of… our human companion’s safety.”
“C’mon, we both know it’s her. Look, just lemme take y’all to Wily. He can fix this.”
“No, he can’t. He’d sooner use this human as leverage than ensure their safety. All we need from you is information, Snake Man. And if you value your status as a functional and ambulatory unit, you’ll tell us what we need to know,” he said, lowering himself and placing the steady orb of contained plasma right before Snake’s eyes.
“Just listen! Ya don’t get it! It ain’t gonna turn ya crazy! It’s just… It’s a thinker, this thing. Helps you think, too. Gives ya good ideas. Maybe it’ll help!” He paused, his gaze drifting for a second as if his attention was drawn elsewhere. “And… besides, Wily’s a human too! If anyone’s got what you need to take care of one, it’s him. Lemme take ya there.”
Looking up, Pharaoh saw the other two creeping quietly closer from behind. He stood, slowly taking his hand away from Snake’s face, backing away as the others arrived. “Skull. Ring. Give this… snake charmer our answer.”
“Huh?” Snake grunted, and then a hand landed on each of his shoulders.
Skull’s eyes were smiling again. “You’re playing with the big boys now.”
“... Aw, heck.”
-
Much as he tried to ignore it, catching Bass’ petulant grimace over his shoulder one too many times was just aggravating enough that Wily had to acknowledge it. With a growling breath, he demanded, “What?! Is there a reason you’re staring? Trying to learn to code? You’re an autogun with a personality disorder; you couldn’t program a VCR.”
“The hell’s a VCR?”
“Shut up. What do you want?”
Bass stepped closer, perhaps trying to loom with an air of menace. It was pointless, of course. His loyalty was hard-coded. Wily was the only human on earth that Bass couldn’t openly attack. “... Did you put your virus in me?”
“What?”
“That thing you’re playing with. REM.”
“It’s Roboenza 2!”
“I don’t care. Did you infect me? Because if I find out you put that crap in me, I swear…”
Wily spun back around in his chair. “Oh, pish-posh. Why would I bother?”
“Because you’re a conniving little code-monkey who keeps forgetting that I’m freakin’ perfect.”
Snorting, wheezing, coughing as he choked down the humour of that statement, Wily took some time to compose himself. “Right, of course. But rest assured, you’re as clean as that dump of a mind ever was.”
“Are you lying to me?”
“Imbecile. Why deceive, when the truth is so much easier for you to grasp? I don’t need to infect a robot who’s already loyal… enough.” He went to return to his work, skimming through pages of code and reports which, if he was honest with himself, were starting to bleed together. When he looked back, Bass still had his face twisted up in what was probably a mix of scrutiny and pure, dogged ignorance. “Oh, don’t burn your bulb out thinking about it. Roboenza 2 wouldn’t have any effect on you, anyway.”
“Heh. Too strong for it?” Bass crossed his arms, enjoying a moment of undeserved pride.
Sighing, rubbing his temples, Wily muttered, “I wish I cared enough to smarten you up. No. It’s not about what you have, frankly. It’s about what you lack. There’s a shocker for you.”
“You saying I lack something?”
“Aside from a passable excuse for listening comprehension? Yes, actually. I’ve told you, this virus is designed to keep things orderly. Roboenza 2 is made to filter its inputs through a robot’s Three Laws programming - something I never gave you, because why would I?” he added, waving his hands dismissively. “The virus manipulates robots through their normal, functional reasoning. Which, at the risk of repeating myself, you are sorely lacking.”
“Yeah, whatever. So what’s all that actually mean?”
“What- I just explained it, you…!” Sucking in a breath through his teeth, Wily composed himself. “It doesn’t work on robots who don’t have Three Laws programming. The virus would just sit dormant waiting for a Laws routine it recognized, without ever finding something to manipulate. Clear enough?”
Bass stood by for a moment, while the wheels turned in his head. “Huh. Probably wouldn’t work on me, then.”
His fingers leaving trails of white on his skin as they slid down his face, Wily shuddered with anger, and pointed. “Get out.”
-
“No response. Not one,” Mikhail said quietly. He was losing focus, losing track of his work. His eyes bounced from one screen to another, as he tried to recall which command he’d sent earliest and which response he was looking for.
“Keep trying. We’ll find something,” Light assured him.
“Trying what? I don’t even…” He grunted, pushing sweat off his brow. When had he started sweating? When had he gotten so warm? “I… don’t know what to do. Oh, god, I’m tired. I need something to eat. Or drink.” He went to his computer, to send a command for Dust Man to fetch him something. Then he remembered, and his face fell into his hands. “I should have stayed asleep. I would have accomplished as much.”
Light shook his head. “This is not the time for defeatism.”
“Of course. It’s the time for a robot to leap in and save the day. That’s always the way it is, isn’t it?” He shoved his devices and screens all aside, ignoring their pending reports of failure for the moment. “Robots create problems only robots can solve, and humans stand by helplessly. Only, we’re out of robots this time. Unless Roll is looking better?”
“She’s the same,” Light said without looking, his expression turning dour again. “Mikhail… I share your feelings,” he said, though Cossack was doubtful of that. “Now, listen. Mr. X is standing by for advisement. What shall I tell him?”
Cossack held his head, feeling blood in his fingers and his temples squeeze by one another under pressure. “Tell him… Ask him if he’s discovered any leads. Ask him not to… No, tell him about Kalinka, or that… No. No, let me write something. Tell him I’ll explain the situation myself.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“And tell him not to tell Agnieszka a single word about anything we discuss!”
“That’s what you’re worried about? Mikhail, she works for him, she’s going to hear about it.” A sound came through from Light’s side of the call, which seemed to startle him, prompting him to turn halfway in his seat and stare behind. A resounding, fierce banging noise, just loud enough to be audible in the call. Light froze, waiting for more, and more came, one echoing thump after another. Then silence. Then, another sound, harsh but unrecognizable to Cossack. Light shot up from his seat, steadying himself nervously by his desk. “... Someone just forced my door.”
“What? A robot?”
“It has to be,” Light said, staring toward the other end of the room. He paused, and sighed. “Mikhail. You need to get through to your boys.”
“This is it…”
“Mikhail-”
“He’s won. We finally get to see what that’s like. And this…”
“Mikhail! If Albert hauls me in, you’re the only person left to navigate this mess! I’m sending you Mr. X’s contact information,” he said over a flurry of keystrokes. “Use it well. And for goodness’ sake, pull your head out of your-”
A third voice joined them, from in the room with Light. “Hey. Maybe you could hold off on calling the robo-militia?” Light looked behind again. Cossack had suspicions of the owner of that boyish voice, with its telltale robotic undertone. The look of relief on Light’s face all but confirmed them. “At least, until I can drop the intel I’ve got for you.”
“Blues,” Light said through an unsure smile, as the oldest boy robot in the world moseyed into frame. “Welcome home.”
“Yeah, yeah, bless this mess. Sorry about the door. I did knock, though,” Blues said, flicking a thumb back in the direction he’d come from. “I’m sure you can fix it. You’re handy.”
“Well, well. Speak of the devil, and he doth appear,” Cossack said, asserting his presence.
Blues removed his helmet, and at the sound of Cossack’s voice, turned and raised his sunglasses briefly to get a look at the vidcom screen. “Dick.”
“Forgive the expression,” the doctor said, cracking a smile for the first time in so long, it actually stung. “But honestly, we had discussed you as one of our few remaining options.”
“Yeah, no kidding.” Blues checked his surroundings, and his gaze locked on something out of frame. His form sank. “... Roll?” he asked, glancing at Light.
“She’ll be… fine. Once this is all over. I’m sure she’ll be all right.”
Blues stared at her for a moment longer. “Yeah.” He turned away, and said something almost too quiet to be heard. He happened to be bent over Light’s tablet, however, so Cossack alone could make out the whisper. “Good job.”
“I assume,” Cossack said, changing the subject, “from your lucid state so late in the crisis, that you’re still clean.”
Light heaved out a breath, his great, round breast deflating under his coat. “The REM virus has been a terrible thing to contend with. It’s a relief to see you functioning.”
“Oh. No,” Blues answered, and laughed, with the kind of dry mirth only a Light-bot could emulate. “No way. I caught it the second I tried to ask someone what the hell was going on. Guess I’m not as smart as I’d like to think. But at least I’m keeping my cool, right?”
“Blues! We have to get you- Let me install the quarantine loop! It could help prolong your consciousness!” Light moved toward him, and Blues moved away.
“Whoa! No you don’t! We have an understanding. This doesn’t change it.” Blues had long refused maintenance on his operating systems, in spite of that decision certainly dooming his existence. But, DLN-000 wasn’t just an uncertified, truant unit; it lacked Three Laws safeguards of any kind. Proto Man was an unpredictable, incredibly illegal robot, which Dr. Cossack would have regarded with immense distrust and disdain; would have, had Blues not personally rescued Kalinka once before, from perilous captivity in Wily’s fortress during that years-past nightmare.
“This is different!” Light argued, approaching again only to be driven back.
“Yeah! Because for once, we’re talking about something that won’t kill me! So would you shut up and listen? Because you’re gonna want to know what I know.”
While Light wrestled with his own concerns, Cossack pressed onward. “What do you know?”
Blues crossed his arms, retreating further but remaining among them. “I know it can’t get to me. Even though I can feel it trying. Waiting for a chance. That,” he added, “and I think I know what it is.”
“A virus… isn’t it?” Light asked.
“Spreads like one. But it doesn’t talk like one.” Blues shook his head, touching it as if to soothe himself. “This is more than just a couple lines of self-replicating garbage. It’s trying to piggyback my decisions, by talking over them.”
“And when you say ‘talking’, you mean-”
“I mean talking. Natural language inputs. But whenever I speed-bump over my Three Laws sectors, it gets confused and shuts up for a while.” He smirked, and pushed his sunglasses up with his thumb. “Feels pretty good to do that, actually.”
Confused and rather disturbed, Cossack cut to the heart of the matter. “This doesn’t sound at all like a normal virus.”
“Welcome to the point. It’s way more than that,” Blues said, turning away from Light to give Cossack his full attention, leaving Dr. Light looking over his own creation’s shoulder. “This thing might be riding some kinda robot superflu, but it’s its own beast. It thinks, and it communicates, at least once it has a language center to leech off.”
“... It’s an AI.”
“Yeah. And a really crummy roommate.”