[open] a friend in need's a friend indeed

[nedofpies]

Who: Ned and OPEN
What: Random encounters & fallout from dream-walking tomfoolery
Where: House 20, the garden, anywhere around town
When: Day 89

It's been a long week. A long, mostly-sleepless, weird week during which Ned has seen far more of his friends' and neighbors' subconsciouses than he would have liked to. Plus, a creepy city made of crystals that everyone seems to have seen, but no one will claim as their own. Shady stuff. Today, he is determined to wear himself out. Perhaps if he's tired enough, whatever mojo the men behind the curtain have put on him won't be strong enough to stir him out of a deep and dreamless sleep.

It's probably a futile tactic, but he can't just do nothing.

So he is a bustle of activity - cleaning the house, walking around town, checking on the crops to see if they are holding up well (carefully, with an eye for any enterprising tigers roaming too close to the edge of the forest), keeping an eye out for new faces and an ear out for rumors of missing ones.

Comments

[thezerothlaw]

He can't quite make sense of Ned's reaction, the combination of emotions. He's unwittingly touched on something delicate again.

"Two," Daneel says after a moment's thought; it seems a proper number, to him. Enough to sustain the population, not enough to be excessive. "And they were very good parents. They were kind and generous, and their wisdom served them well. Their children were too young to remember their biological parents, but they grew up happy and well."

It's the best way he can think of the mitigate the unpleasantness of the parents' death.

[nedofpies]

There's no logical reason for Daneel's answer to be a comfort to him - they're only the hastily-dreamed-up fictional children of fictional people - but it does, all the same. When he was young, he'd half-loved, half-hated the way orphans in novels and movies always ended up with new families, always ended up loved and happy and settled in a home of their very own. It was the purest kind of escapism for him, at school. Not the sort of thing that really happened.

But he's found a place of his own here, and people who care about him. It's not perfect, but at the moment he cares much more about being here with Daneel, about what it means for him to have come up with this story, than about the story itself.

"And what did the common people say, when they found out they were going to be ruled by a beast?"

[thezerothlaw]

He has to think about this for a moment, torn between a desire for accuracy and a desire for this perfect world of happy endings he's envisioning. The latter would suggest that no one minded the Beast at all, but he knows humans better than that.

"They were frightened at first, but Beauty was able to convince them not to fear him, and he soon proved himself to be a capable and benevolent leader."


There. That fills both requirements.

[nedofpies]

Ned is satisfied with that ending. It is happy, but not entirely, unrealistically so. It might have seemed so to him before he came to the Cape, before he'd met any of the people here who he's grown so close to over time. Back then, the idea that anyone, let alone a whole group of people, could accept and like him even after learning about his powers, was inconceivable. And Daneel... the idea that he'd have anyone like Daneel in his life was even moreso.

It is this thought, which lay behind the question in the first place, which leads him to ask.

"And what sorts of things did people say, when you asked about how they define 'person'?" He could have scanned through the network, seen what responses he could turn up, but that always seemed like eavesdropping to him. Besides, he only cares about their answers so far as they have impacted Daneel.

[thezerothlaw]

This is a sudden change in subject, but Daneel takes it in stride. He's not positive of the thread of thought that Ned took to leap to this, but he thinks he can see the parallel -- the acceptance of the Beast he's imagined, the acceptance that's surprisingly easy to find here.

And truthfully, it's a bit of a relief to leave off his attempt at creating more story.

"Responses vary, but on the whole the sentiment is that I am a person." So unanimous a response was not what he expected. "What makes a person is consciousness, self-awareness, the ability to question if one is, indeed a person." Daneel tilts his head to one side. "If the act of questioning my personhood is in fact a marker of that status, then perhaps I should say that I have become a person.

"Either way," he finished, "I did not expect so uniform a response."

[nedofpies]

Well, that's a relief. If the responses had been uniform but in the 'robots-are-not-people' camp, Ned might have been forced to have words with a few individuals. Even a mixed bag of results would have made him uneasy to a certain degree. But apparently, the town's strange trend of tolerance continues unabated. No one here - or next-to-no-one - sees Ned as a monster because of what he can do, and everyone is wise enough to grasp that Daneel is a person.

"That sounds about right to me." Ned reaches out for Daneel's hand, laces their fingers together. He says, "Or maybe you were a person the whole time but you just didn't realize it. Maybe it just needed a bit of time to develop.

"Children are like that too. At first, babies think they are the center of the universe. They need to learn that other people exist and have consciousness. Maybe it's like the reverse of that, with you. And kids will believe pretty much anything you tell them. So the way someone's brought up is a bit like their programming. But as they get older, and have more experience with the world, they can start to question those things. Certainty is for zealots and children."

He's rambling and he knows it, so he curtails that line of thought and asks, "So how are you doing, in light of all that?"

[thezerothlaw]

Daneel is not accustomed to thinking of himself as a child, and he frowns thoughtfully at this idea. One more level to consider.

"I still have much to consider," he says. "I am trying to incorporate this new information into my programming, but it is a slow process. I believe that I can do it. The existence of the Third Law will always make it easier for me to put someone else's well-being before my own, but that is not necessarily unfortunate, in my opinion."

A strange idea, though: he could protect his own existence without having to rationalize his way past the First or Second Laws.

"Your presence makes it easier for me to attempt this."

[nedofpies]

"I believe you can do it, too," Ned encourages, with a brief squeeze of his hand. He believes in Daneel, generally speaking. Not all that impressive, out of context, but a big thing for him. It's not something he's done much, in his life: believe in people. Not believing in people means you can't be disappointed when they let you down, after all.

But Daneel is different. He is extraordinary, has already come so far in regards to his own programming, has improved upon the best aspects of himself, made himself into a better person despite all the odds.

"Humans can choose to do that, too. Put someone else's well-being before their own. It's encouraged, in fact, in certain situations." He thinks of the way he hadn't even paused to think before he'd run face-first at a tiger when he saw Meyer slumped on the ground; he thinks of mothers sacrificing themselves for children, of firefighters and extraordinary bystanders running towards danger for the sake of strangers. "But I guess the difference is that it's a choice. And it's a choice you should make while knowing your well-being is important, too." To Ned, it certainly is, and he's hoping it will be to Daneel, too, someday.

When Daneel tells him that he's helped make this process easier, just by being around, Ned goes a bit pink in the cheeks, so happy that he doesn't even know what to say. He turns, buries his face in Daneel's shoulder, but he's grinning.

[thezerothlaw]

Daneel, very carefully, runs his hand through Ned's hair.

"I do not think that, in any situation, I would ever be able to be content with letting innocents die to protect myself." He shakes his head very slightly. "Nor do I wish to be."

That does, however, remind him of something, which he has never mentioned to Ned. It's unpleasant conversation, but before he had entrusted this knowledge to Kobra, and Kobra is no longer here. Someone must know this.

"Ned, along these lines, there is something I must ask you. If anything does ever happen to me, you must ensure that no one attempts to dismantle me for any reason." He's very serious, very intense. "Though no doubt my components could be useful to the residents here, when I arrived, I was informed that any attempt to dismantle me or remove any part of me to use elsewhere would result in the death of every individual here. This cannot be allowed to happen."

[nedofpies]

Ned leans into the touch, nodding his acceptance of what Daneel says. The way he's phrasing it makes it clear it's a decision. He is deciding the kind of man that he wants to be. Ned isn't sure he'd want to be content with that situation, either.

When Daneel says he has to ask something of Ned, he instantly listens more carefully; Daneel hardly ever asks him for anything at all. Whatever it is, it must be important. The tone of Daneel's voice only confirms this, as does the content of his request.

Ned's stomach plummets at that word, dismantle. What Daneel is asking of him is important. Objectively, he knows that. But he doesn't want to think about it as a possibility. Nothing can happen to Daneel: it isn't allowed to. The mere thought of it makes him ache with sadness. He remembers finding Daneel on the floor of this room, remembers the dream in which he died, remembers the cold, hopeless grief that he sank into after Jesse had been murdered.

Not trusting his voice, Ned nods his promise.

(Privately, he thinks he will pass this information on to River, because if that eventuality were to come to pass, he isn't sure he's going to be capable of doing much of anything.)

To remind himself that Daneel is here still, unharmed and happy and whole, Ned clings to him with sudden fervor. There is no sound of a heartbeat there to reassure him of Daneel's vitality, but there never has been (except, of course, for when he had been human). Daneel feels the way he always has - solid and reassuring. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen," he says. Then, knowing Daneel will have felt that shift in emotions and deduced that he was the cause, Ned tries to pre-empt any guilt, adds a quick, "Sorry."

[thezerothlaw]

"Please don't apologize."

That Ned would have an intense reaction to that request is hardly surprising, but it had to be said. He wraps his arms around Ned, all too glad to let him cling, if that can afford him any relief at all.

"Thank you, Ned. The promise means much to me, though I realise it isn't a simple thing for me to ask of you." He strokes his fingers through Ned's hair, a protective gesture. "I would prefer not to cease functioning either."

This is simply the last resort, the worst case scenario.

"Kobra knew this before, but he is no longer here to ensure this, and it is knowledge I only wish to share with someone whom I... whom I feel I can trust."

[nedofpies]

Daneel's mention of Kobra doesn't do much to allay Ned's sadness (because Daneel might disappear any day, the way Daneel's friends - and Ned's friends - had vanished without a trace), but the movements of Daneel's hand through his hair are soothing.

"I'm really glad you trust me. I promise, I won't tell anyone else." A short beat of silence and then, with a note of amusement and self-reproach, "Can I tell River? In case... just in case whatever happens to you happens to me, too?" Ned hopes that Daneel understands he isn't trying to cheapen this gesture, that he appreciates how much it means that Daneel is confiding in him. "She can keep a secret, and I trust her, completely." Hopefully Daneel will realize what this means for Ned, that the list of people whom he trusts completely isn't a list so much as a duo: River and Daneel.

Not that it should matter, because nothing is going to happen to Daneel. He has to repeat this to himself, try to make himself really believe it, to smother that easily-uncovered shard of terror in his heart that tells him caring about someone is inextricable from losing them. If Daneel were to die, it wouldn't be the same kind of death that he can fix. There would be no second chances whatsoever. Just a world without Daneel in it, which is - more and more, as the days pass - becoming almost unimaginable to him.

[thezerothlaw]

"Yes, you may tell River," Daneel says, after a moment's consideration. Ideally, in his mind, if something is to happen to him it won't happen to Ned, that he might be able to sacrifice himself to protect him. It might not happen that way, but if he must deactivate, die, then it should be for a purpose.

"She can be trusted with this information as well. I am not comfortable with it being widely known, but a trusted few should."

[nedofpies]

"I'll make sure she doesn't tell anyone else," Ned reassures, a little distantly. He's still thinking out the implications of what Daneel's told him. It had never occurred to him before now that, were it not for that message, Daneel might have thought that using his internal components might help the survival or escape odds of the others here. Would he have done it, Ned wonders? What was the comparative weight of the Third and First laws in a situation such as this one.

For the first time, perhaps ever, Ned is grateful to their captors for something. That ultimatum of theirs might well have helped to keep Daneel whole and unharmed, long enough for them to meet, to get to know each other, to become... whatever it is they are together now.

He doesn't often think about Daneel's difference in terms of his body and its internal circuitry. But now that his mind is on the subject, he asks, "Daneel, there isn't anything I ought to be doing, right? To keep you, uh, healthy or, I suppose, running optimally? Was it usual on Aurora for you to have, um, repairs?"

[thezerothlaw]

"For the most part, I am self sufficient." Curiosity about his more mundane workings is slightly unusual for him. He's a robot; people either question his general power requirements or they assume he's entirely self contained. "Minor repairs I am capable of on my own, though it hadn't been necessary here. My internal power is nuclear in nature, and should not need replacing for some centuries. I do require a certain amount of water for lubrication purposes. For example, my eyes do produce moisture for the sake of cleaning and lubrication, though my needs are minimal and easily replaced."

Daneel does not need caring for, effectively. He's too busy caring for others.

"It's possible I could sustain some damage I would be unable to repair on my own, but I cannot plan for an unknown possibility."