Southern Scotland was covered in a layer of white.
The outskirts of Glasgow—the area near Loch Lomond, in the vicinity of Drymen, was a verdant nature reserve designated as a technologically restricted zone. The pastures that stretched in every direction were now covered in a blanket of snow, making the one container block hotel seem all the more boorish by comparison.
Next up is a new song by an indie band from Edinburgh—
This hotel had been created by repurposing old shipping containers, and its amenities were all outdated and anachronistic. Echika reached over to the antique radio that looked less like an appliance and more like a fossil and switched it off. Through the thin glass window, she watched the unmaintained road. A faded pickup truck tottered by with difficulty.
“Guess news of the neuromimetic system hasn’t reached an area like this one.”
It would have been nice to have a television, at least. Echika pulled the curtain and turned around. The cramped room barely managed to fit a small fridge and two beds. Harold was sitting on the bed closest to the front door.
“Amicus and Your Forma are irrelevant in technologically restricted zones. If it did make the news at all, it was probably a small article in the corner of the morning paper.”
He was leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and refusing to look up at her. He’d been like this ever since she reactivated him. Despite how angry he must have been at her, the Amicus was frighteningly composed.
She would have preferred he lashed out at her.
It’d been one night since Echika had activated Harold’s forced shutdown and made her daring escape. She’d put him into a share car and had driven off without looking back. She’d changed cars a few times, making for a technologically limited zone, eventually finding her way to Scotland. Once dawn broke and the sun started rising, she decided to stop at the first hotel she could find for a break.
During check-in, she’d put on a knitted hat and scarf to hide her features, but looking back on it now, that might not have been necessary. Time here seemed to be at a standstill.
“…You wanna eat something?” Echika picked up the room service menu off the fridge. “They’ve got fish and chips and kebab. It’s probably all microwave food, though.”
“I’m good. Go ahead and eat.”
Harold’s retort was brief and indifferent, and he refused to look at her again. Despite having had nothing to eat or drink since the night before, Echika didn’t feel hungry at all. And just like last night, her drowsiness was eclipsed by her feelings of alarm.
She put the menu back in its place and sat on her bed. The hard mattress didn’t feel like it was at all capable of alleviating fatigue. She reached for the back of her neck and touched the isolation unit there.
Just what was going on outside right now? Since all her avenues of communication were shut off right now, she had no idea what the others were doing. Had Lexie survived after they left her in the prison? How far had news coverage of the neuromimetic system spread? Darya must have heard it, of course, but so would the IAEC. In which case, was Steve all right?
Totoki was probably already looking for her. Or maybe not, given that she’d needed to give the Alliance’s pursuers the slip. And what about Fokine and Bigga? And were the Gardener father and son all right…?
Echika rubbed her cheeks with her hands, feeling like her head might burst with thoughts. Right now, the most important thing to think about was what came next. The hum of the central heating had started filling the room. For some reason, it took a great deal of courage for her to break the heavy silence hanging between them.
“I have…a few ideas.” Echika broached the matter, but Harold remained unresponsive. She carried on, pretending like it didn’t bother her. “The first one is, we need to get somewhere that’ll be harder for people to find us. Like an island… I looked into it, and there’s a ferry to the Shetland Islands in Aberdeen. Amicus inspections should be laxer on a boat than they are on planes, and they’re more forgiving as to what you can bring on board. Once we get to the islands, you can pose as a human, and we’ll buy a house in an inconspicuous place.”
He remained silent.
“The second one is getting your body exchanged. I don’t know if it’s possible, but… If we can change your appearance entirely, nobody would be able to tell who you are. Unlike humans, you don’t have personal data, and if we do that, you’d be able to live without needing to hide. The question is how to do it, but…I’ll find a skilled technician, one way or another. And I’ll cover the costs, somehow.”
The Amicus remained tight-lipped.
“And my third plan.” Echika carried on, pretending she didn’t notice. “We can fake your death to stop the physical investigations. Basically the same thing Lexie did with Marvin… We’ll prepare another Amicus body and set it up to be discovered publicly. If we can get everyone to believe it, no one will go after you anymore. In fact, we might even make the accusations against you look fake—”
Echika fell quiet because Harold slowly raised a hand to silence her. He noiselessly exhaled an artificial breath and shook his head. It was a gesture of utter weariness.
“I reject all of those and suggest a fourth idea: Change your mind and go back to London. You might be able to protest your innocence.”
Echika knew that was the right thing to do to begin with. She sucked on the inside of her lower lip.
“If you really think so…why aren’t you dragging me back to London right now?”
“Because so long as you’re not satisfied with the solution, you might just shut me down again.” Harold’s gaze traced the scratches on the wall. “I’ll admit I was surprised. I never knew you could be so cunning.”
Realizing this was a sarcastic remark about the hug, Echika felt her cheeks flush. “I…”
“I actually considered giving you the slip and returning to London on my own,” the Amicus said indifferently. “But if I did that, you would probably admit your crimes to the bureau to get yourself arrested. And you’d spend your entire time in court insisting I’m safe and should be restarted… Absurd.”
“You’re thinking too highly of yourself.” This was only half a bluff. “If that happened, even I would give up.”
“Given the things you’ve done so far, I find that statement painfully unconvincing.”
“You’ve got the wrong impression, then.”
“Echika.” His eyes, which he’d insisted on keeping away from her thus far, fixed on her directly. “You have single-handedly dashed everything we worked for this past month.”
The look in his eyes was clearly warped. This was the old him—not the passively friendly facade of a mass-produced Amicus that he’d adopted recently, but the delicate, rich expression one would expect of an RF Model.
“I’ve been suppressing my emotional engine.” He spoke in self-derision. “Kept my distance from you, all to make it better. And it would have worked. And yet you…”
Harold’s anger was justified. She’d forced him along, knowing full well he would be upset with her. She’d done it because she knew.
“I know you don’t want this, but… Right now, that’s not what I want to talk about.”
“For me, that’s all that’s important.”
“We still haven’t found Detective Sozon’s killer.” She knew this was a cowardly card to play but did so anyway. “The way things are now, you won’t be able to track down the culprit. You’ll never stop regretting it.”
“I haven’t given up on that, of course. But things being the way they are, I can’t exactly go looking for Sozon’s killer. And you using it as a reason to keep me from running is nothing short of excessive meddling.” He prattled on and on. The way he was acting made him seem more like a young human male than ever before. “I’ve already told you this, but I can’t understand how you feel. Are there any words to describe it but ‘fixation’ and ‘obsession’? I am not some plush toy to cling to for comfort.”
“I know that.”
“Then stop it, Echika.”
“I know this is walking all over your feelings, but…”
“No, you don’t understand anything. That’s why you won’t respect my wishes.”
“Maybe, but that’s not what’s going on here. Besides, it’s not like you’re one to talk—”
You don’t know how I feel at all.
No, I can’t.
If I say that, this’ll all be for nothing.
The words clawed all the way up to her throat, but she sank them before they could turn to sound. Harold kept his eyes fixed on her. Echika bit her lower lip, trying to keep the words suppressed.
“I’m not one to talk?” The Amicus’s cold voice stabbed into her like an icy dagger. “Go on, finish that sentence.”
“…I’m getting something to drink.”
Echika hung her head and got off the bed. She snatched the jacket hanging on the wall—she’d picked it up from a recycle box on the way here—and took her knit hat and scarf. She left the room, trying to escape Harold’s question.
Outside their room was an open-air corridor shared with all the other containers. The intense snowfall the night prior had come to a near-standstill, with only a bit of snow lazily sprinkling down from the sky. Echika walked quickly, pulling the cap almost down to her eyes and putting on the scarf so as to hide her features. She walked past the section of the complex where the containers were lined up and over to the prefabricated front desk office.