Paradox-Roid | Chapter 3

[healingbonds]

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Cain: Owen. I’m asking you to listen to me.

Owen: That’s not the attitude of someone who’s asking. That’s like, a weapon, right?

Cain: You got that right. It’s a taser gun. I knew it, your initial settings have been configured.

Owen: I thought you said you were here to help me?

Cain: For the safety of the townspeople, I can’t let an Assist-Roid with an unknown handler run around unchecked.

Akira: M-may I ask if there’s a reason you can’t?

I ask with trepidation, as Cain shrugs awkwardly.

Cain: I might treasure friendship with an Assist-Roid, but ultimately Assist-Roids are still robots.
You’re more powerful than humans, and your bodies are built to be durable. I couldn’t let an Assist-Roid go on a rampage through town.
If you won’t listen to me, then I have no choice but to crush you on the spot — at the very least, I can’t let you continue functioning.
But someone must have gone through the trouble of making you. Don’t you want to return to your owner’s side unscathed so they can fuss over you?

Owen: What’s an owner?

Cain: Your owner is your handler. Your master, who created you. I’m sure they’re from the upper class.
I’m just a broke cop. I’d have to fight you guys right away if you were tools in the hands of terrorists, but......
If you turn out to be precious Assist-Roids belonging to the upper class, getting a single scratch on you would land me in immense debt — it’d spell the end of my life.
As it is, I still have repair fees from wrecking a congressman’s airbike when I was chasing down a criminal.
So please don’t kick up a fuss, and let me verify your handler’s information. Once I confirm it, I won’t do anything else.

Owen: Hmm...... So if you get a scratch on me, your life will be over?

Cain: Why are you grinning like that.......

Owen: Go on. You can check out the back of my neck.

Cain: Really? Then stand here and look down......

Owen: The second your fingers touch me, I’m going to tremble in fear and plant my face into the ground.

Cain: You’ve been programmed with a pretty awful personality...... I kind of want to take a look at your owner’s face.
Akira, wait there for me. Once I find out Owen’s handler, I’ll take you back to your home.

I’m too occupied to bother replying. A single question keeps on whirling around in my mind.

Akira: (I...... Am I a robot......?)
(......That can’t be true. My hands are warm...... But a string of weird numbers came out of my mouth just now.)
(.......Will I find iron and silicon if I peel back my skin......? No way....... No, is this for real.....?)

Cain: ......Huh, this is strange. There’s no response......

I raise my head at Cain’s voice, only to find him holding his handbook aloft behind Owen’s neck.
When I look closer, I can see thin rays of light extending from the handbook and connecting to the back of Owen’s neck.
A glowing row of blue numbers stands out starkly beneath his skin, where the bundle of light is connected. It makes me think of a goldfish injected with neon light.
The row of numbers transform second by second. No human would have skin that glowed with that kind of light underneath. I start growing dizzier and dizzier.

Akira: (Did the back of my head look like that too.......?)

Cain: This looks like a pre-shipment initialized state to me. But, there’s no way a pre-shipment Assist-Roid could talk freely......

Owen: What are you muttering to yourself for? Get it over with. Are you done?

Cain: No, hang on a while.

Just then, the crackle of a man’s languid voice issues from the receiver hanging from Cain’s waist.

Voice of a languid man: Cain, how’s it going with those no-signal Assist-Roids? Did you manage to catch them? If things look bad, I’ll head over to provide backup.

Cain puts a hand to his waist and flips some sort of switch, talking to the person on the other end of the receiver.

Cain: Nero. I got the data for one of them, but I can’t read any data for the other one. No lab data, no individual identification number.

Voice of a languid man: Is it moving?

Cain: Yeah. It can talk normally, and it has a bunch of expressions. Looks like it must be the latest model.

Nero: The latest model, and it’s no-signal, huh...... Sounds like trouble. It’d be bad news if it got exploited for crime. Take it down in one shot and turn it into scrap metal.

Owen whips around to look at Cain. Troubled, Cain furrows his eyebrows.

Cain: But......

Voice of a languid man: Hey, did you get tricked again? Those are Assist-Roids. All of their emotions are programmed. It’s all fake.
Assist-Roids made for crime are especially configured to be lovable so they can play on your sympathy. How many years have you been a cop on these streets?

Cain: I know that, Nero.

Voice of a languid man: I’ll head over if you can’t handle things by yourself. Make sure you restrain them properly. If you let them escape, you won’t hear the end of it from the Chief.
You know our boss hates Assist-Roids.

Cain: ............

Holding my breath, I stare at Cain. The contents of their exchange were chilling. It sounds like the other person was telling Cain to dispose of Owen.
Owen glares sullenly at Cain. Cain presses his tips in a tight line, breathing shallowly. He reaches a hand towards the gun in his holster......
And stops, after a look at my face. He shakes his head curtly, like he’s trying to shake something off.

Cain: ......It’s all right, Nero. I think I’ll be able to get the ID somehow.

Nero: You sure?

Cain: Yeah, I’ll get in touch if something happens. Later then.

Cutting off the call, Cain lets out a huge sigh. His bright golden eyes glow with an emotion that I can’t quite name as regret or relief.

Cain: ......I have a friend who does maintenance work. I bet he’ll be able to analyze your ID.
As long as we know your ID, I can return you to your owner. It’d be too cruel to dispose of you when you’ve just been created......
.........I mean, it’d be a terrible waste.

Cain corrects himself, almost as if he’s trying to convince himself. He turns a wry smile on Owen before looking at me.
His gaze, a mixture of confusion and remorse, is clumsy, yet kind.

Cain: I scared you, didn’t I? You look all pale and terrified. Are you okay?

Akira: Y......Yeah.

Cain: You can even make a face like that...... I don’t know the details, but your owner must be a real piece of work.

Akira: Huh......?

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