The Nasty Zone

[undeviated]

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[diplomats]

"And if that happens, someone else will pick up where we left off."

He's certain of it. Certain of the kinetic flow of belief and unbending determination. Certain because of how far they've come already, and the idea that what's become synonymous with his name might eventually diffuse among their people instead is more comforting than he cares to admit.

A cause is better than a graveyard; their lives better than safety in silence.

Still, Simon's fingers tighten, winding themselves between his knuckles. Despite the focus of their conversation, that's where Simon's attention buries itself: weaving the negative space between them tighter, watching the slow slide of simulated skin as it recedes in crawling patterns, giving way to stark white plastic and manufactured jointwork. At odds with the idea of piety in the name of their people. And maybe that's all Simon's ever really known. PL600 models were designed to give. To care until their bodies bent and broke down. If he maintains that habit now, is he any less deviant? Is he reclaiming whateveer he'd lost before he violated his intended programming?

Markus remembes how unmistakable it'd been when they'd first met. The idea that Simon hadn't asked to be this way. That they all— including Markus— had to deal with it.

But those fingers are a present pressure, and his blue-eyed gaze is soft. "If you don't want this, tell me."

It wouldn't hurt any more than letting another fraction of himself wash away under the drag of Jericho's increasing gravity. It wouldn't hurt.

But he has to know.

[arecompatible]

With the huge ripple Markus his sent through Detroit, moving out to other cities, states, all over the country, there was no doubt that if they failed there would still be others to rise up. They would not be the last to fall for this cause, there would be a silver lining for their people. Eventually.

Markus bares himself to Simon, but he still hesitates, a million thoughts spinning ugly in his mind. He isn't worthy of this, he doesn't deserve this, Markus could do better, why him? Why #501 743 923 and not another android that's more advanced, newer. It spirals into thoughts of losing Markus, of them both dying, would it be worth it to share his feelings when everything was on the precipice of falling away?

It's then that he remembers a moment with the wife of his owner, Sharron, who had only ever been kind to him. They had spent weeks together planting various flowers and vegetables in her garden, something she had willed him to do only if he wanted to. Months later when everything had grown in, one patch of flowers had not, giving nothing for their hard work. Sharron had commented that there was always a chance things won't work out how one thinks it will, to which Simon had asked then why try at all?

"Because there's no point in living if we don't try, Simon. Everything we've accomplished over thousands of years to come to this very moment... it's because people tried. It makes life worth every second, makes you appreciate what you have." And of course he hadn't fully comprehended it all at the time, still not fully awake, not who he was now. The words ring in his head as he closes his eyes, realizing Markus was very similar in the way he lived. In what he preached to Jericho, that they couldn't just sit idly by and waste away. They had to win their right to live or die trying.

What a way to live was hiding in the dark? What point in living was there if they didn't try? It may hurt more to try, but wouldn't it be worth every second that they had if they did? Synthetic skin yields to the white of his chassis underneath, the joints of his fingers exposed as he stops thinking and just does.

"I want this."

I don't want to die without having this chance with you.

The thought is there just under the words he speaks, there for Markus to feel and know with their connection. So many lingering glances and quiet moments where Simon just watches him, wanting, feeling, thinking, Markus. Markus, Markus, Markus.

A deep buried desire under so much else, back when he'd been left on Stratford Tower, hiding away on the rooftop. As he dragged himself free, as he found his way back to Jericho. This all encompassing want.

I just want to see him again. Get back to Jericho. Markus. I have to find Markus. Don't die yet. Not yet.

Get back to Markus.