18. COLDIS
18
COLDIS
“I don’t get it.” Orrey looked at the bot as if it were malfunctioning, then met Col’s eyes. “Are you saying we can’t…that there isn’t a way to replace the Ferrean Op-AI? That can’t be right. That doesn’t make any sense at all. The other Op-AIs, ours, it would know how to do this. Maybe this committee thing—”
“Do you want to play a word game, Conduit? Maybe a few rounds of Charm the Conduit? I can prepare snacks for everyone.” The butler bot looked downright hopeful.
“No, thank you. Col, this can’t be right? I mean, it’s just not right. It doesn’t make any sense at all. And how would Ferrea…how would the Municipal AI manage without its Op-AI?”
Hyran, absentmindedly stroking Col’s shoulder, said, “It does make sense though. It’s why they attacked the Op-AI, why they killed it.”
Col couldn’t be sure, but it appeared that realization was sinking in at least for Hyran while the others were still looking on, incredulous, quite possibly hoping Col was about to tell them he’d been joking to lift everyone’s mood.
Orrey stared at Hyran. “But…but it can’t be right. Who is going to make sure the Grounds are safe and run smoothly once everything gets back to normal?”
Lapatea jumped to his feet. “If that is the case, Col, we must tell—” His mouth stood open, then snapped closed.
“Tell the Op-AI?” Col took another bite of dumpling, wishing he could focus on the taste, tart and savory, the filling creamy and rich. Is Aurea like this dumpling? I wonder if I’ll ever go there. If I’ll ever go back there.
“Yes.” Lapatea dropped his head, the energy that had brought him to his feet dissipating.
“It’s fine, beautiful,” Karmine said. “Come sit down. We can figure something out. Col can. He’s good at that.”
“Well, not this time,” Col said and focused on his food while everyone around him took in the news. “This time, there is nothing I can do, because not even I know how to build an AI.”
“What if we talked to the Judiciary AIs? They should know how to build a new Op-AI. After all, they are known to raise other AIs, right?” Orrey looked painfully hopeful, while on the screen, yet another Guardian on the cast of My Secret Guardian was explaining to two Conduits that he needed both of them to channel him, now, or else his cock might explode.
Hyran shook his head. “Well, Judiciary AIs don’t really raise new AIs, from what I understand, they make copies of themselves, or at least of parts of themselves.”
Col had started to feel drowsy soon after the food, but he looked up at Hyran. “Interesting that you know that. I had to scour ancient textbooks to find that information.”
The Guardian shrugged. “You’re not the only curious person in the Grounds, Argentea’s or elsewhere. I asked around, and a Judiciary AI told me.”
“Can we ask someone else for help?” Orrey asked. “Maybe someone in another city?”
My little brother is terribly upset about this, Col thought, wondering whether he should have told them all to begin with. But keeping secrets from his team, his family, that only worked up to a point, mostly until Vin noticed.
Hyran seemed to like Orrey’s train of thought though. “You know, I think we should.” He looked at Col. “I don’t quite know—I don’t know if it’ll help, but I think I have an idea.”
“Maybe if we cracked our Op-AIs pretty head open and pulled out all the parts,” Col said. He noticed that he was slurring some of his words, general exhaustion combining with the meds Hyran had fed him and turning into a truly annoying experience.
“I wouldn’t mind,” Vin said, his eyes on the screen. Next to him, Yamara was looking like he was about to fall asleep.
Another brother. Is he? Not yet, I think. It might scare him off if I called him that.
“I have to think this over,” Hyran said.
Taros perked up. “The cracking open of the Argentea Op-AI? Spoken like an insurrectionist, Guardian Hyran.”
And that was the limit of Col’s endurance for the night. He stood.
“Stop it. I think I need to go to sleep, and I want some peace and quiet.” He gestured. “Orrey, I’m leaving you in charge of maintaining that. Use Senny if anyone misbehaves.”
Senlas grumbled. “I’m not some Conduit tool.”
“But if I needed your help, wouldn’t you help me?” Orrey’s display of advanced Conduit-ship was beautiful to behold, and once more, Col hated that he wasn’t more awake for it.
“Obviously,” Senlas said, his pupils dilating, clearly hoping he was going to be asked to “help” Orrey very soon.
“Keep it up, little brother,” Col said and waved at the lot of them.
He wasn’t very surprised when Hyran followed him, not touching but not leaving Col to his own devices either.
“Just me,” the Guardian said in the low light of the hallway.
“I figured.”
“I wanted to make sure you had everything. And were comfortable.”
“Are you going to sleep outside my door if I don’t let you sleep in the room?”
“I, ah. I’ll be fine. You’re hurt. You need to rest and take another pill, I’m afraid. But then you get to rest as much as you want.”
“I think that’s a yes, Hyran.”
The tall Guardian was flustered. The world around him had dulled, but Col still noticed that much.
“You shouldn’t worry about me, Col. In fact, I should be worried. You shouldn’t have been doing any of the work you did today at all. And I should have stopped you.”
They got to the door of the small Conduit room Col had picked. “I think the Op-AI was surprised you didn’t pull me from my team lead position. It remarked upon it.”
“Well, did you want me to do that? I can. Then you wouldn’t have to worry about AIs or replacing them at all. I can take you home—Argentea, your home, I mean—and we can grow to know each other. You could go back to leading your team after a break. Would you like that?”
Col couldn’t help himself. He broke out into giggles as he touched the door and it slid open in front of them.
“You mean to suggest I spend a year with you until the imprinting settles, maybe make a decision about having children and actually having them during that time like most of the stories go?” He waved Hyran into the room with him since Hyran really didn’t look like he was going to barge in after Col.
“Well, would that be very bad? I didn’t want to bring it up, but one of my mothers demands to have grandchildren. I never thought about children, but she demands them. Hound-crap, I shouldn’t have said that, should I?”
Col stood in the middle of the room as the door slid closed and looked at Hyran. Surrogacy or artificial gestation was quick and reliable, and within just a few months, they could have children if they chose to. Several, before the year was out, to raise as an age group. It was an utterly and profoundly surreal notion, and Col couldn’t help himself. He laughed until tears stung his eyes.
“Oh, fuck, Col, I’m an idiot. I don’t know why I said that,” was what Col heard after the worst of his laughing and crying fit was through, after Hyran had successfully led him over to the bed and sat him down.
“I can’t have children,” Col said and giggled.
Hyran nodded. “Understood. And it’s not like I need them, at all. I mean. All the cleaning. I think you have to keep them pretty clean at all times, but they tend to get dirty quite easily. Seems like a bother to me.”
For some reason, that made Col’s laughter bubble up yet again, but his cheeks could barely take the strain anymore, and he wanted to sleep.
“You’d make beautiful babies. Redheaded and tall. Too pale though. Why are you so pale, Hyran? It’s almost like you’re made of paper.”
“I’m not made of paper at all. You felt me, inside you, Col. I like to run at night, so I don’t get much sun. Here, you take this,” he said, holding out the medication for Col he’d grabbed from somewhere. When Col took it, Hyran sped off to get him a glass of water.
Col’s head felt like it was wrapped in plastic. I really do need rest. Fuck. I shouldn’t rest. We need to make this city go on without an Op-AI in all likelihood, and I don’t know how to do that.
“You can stay, Hyran. I like sharing my bed, and you’re warm.”
“Then I’ll stay,” Hyran said. “I’ll keep you warm.”
The tentative smile around his lips made the Guardian look like a different person, or so Col thought before his meds kicked in.