Chapter 12: Invitation

I leaned back in my chair, flipping one of the Coins that we'd stolen from our first heist around. Well, okay — technically, they were "Smart Detonation Roundels", but the damn things were the same size and shape as half-dollar coins from Earth and glowed a bright gold when in motion: they were definitely coins. Coins that basically acted as hitscan jets of copper and gold when they were hit hard enough, mind, but still coins. Alice had even cracked how to set their targets wirelessly, so now we could both target them to what we wanted — and there was also a blueprint for how to make them, which we hoped could lead us (with Max's help) to mass-production. 

I wasn't flipping the coin to test it, though. We'd done that already, a few days ago, and it'd resulted in several trees being transformed into this world's equivalent of Swiss cheese. This was just an absent thing to keep my hands busy, because I'd been thinking about a few important things. Namely, an invitation that Alice had gotten a few days ago to a low-ranking Keizen shell-company party. Don't get me wrong, it would be highbrow — rich people and upper-middle class workers would be mingling there, and it was pretty near the Towers. However, it wasn't a Keizen party, so there weren't any ultra-rich people attending.

However, Alice had been invited even still. A gift from Max, we thought, or something weird going on with her dad? In any case, it was a potentially lucrative opportunity. A real chance to disguise ourselves and spread propaganda for our cause, as well as legally and without much threat of death gather information to better equip ourselves. Still, Alice was hesitant.

She hadn't had very good previous experiences with this particular company. Well, really every company. Alice's hatred-fear-disdain of Keizen companies was near-absolute, for one reason or another. This particular one was specifically because the CEO and his family had proven to be snobbish jerks, and had harassed her for her decision to go catgirl. Plus, their business practices were predatory and she later realized that information security was a truly dogshit thing to privatize and subsequently price-hike. And, uh... it was. I fully agreed with her on every account.

And yet, it was still a great opportunity. Sure, the place would suck ass, but my audio processors were much better than a human's and I could likely figure out a way to record the audio of everyone around. Plus, Alice was confident she could get me in — through subterfuge or through honesty was unclear at the moment, but she seemed to know her stuff. So we could potentially get a lot of gossip, about technology or intra-company personal lives or problems people had. Blackmail, even. If we needed it.

Eugh. I shook my head, catching the coin from out of the air. It'd really suck to have to use blackmail on anyone. A truly dickish thing to do, and I didn't currently have a dick, so... fuck that. Maybe I should make a list of things I won't do.

Eh, nah. The list would just get out of control really fast. And that wasn't even necessarily the point of it all: the information was, ironically, the least secure thing in the party. There could also be interesting little technology previews and demos, which I could scan and make blueprints of to subsequently re-print/manufacture back at base if I got the time and privacy. There was also the fact that... well, to me it sounded kind of fun. Sue me! I'd never been to a party physically as a girl before, I was kind of looking forward to the idea of wearing a nice dress or something. Maybe a velvety red one. Or a suit! The social atmosphere which would have terrified me a few weeks ago sorta fascinated me now. There was just... so much that could happen. And sure, it wasn't like I was going to make any friends — statistically speaking, this world probably had none that'd be okay with who I was and where I lived, at least in the party I was going to — but it still felt romanticized and interesting. I had no idea what the venue would be like, either, which just added to the appeal and mysteriousness of the social event I'd never considered before.

I, uh, had never really been to that many parties. Things just got in the way, and I never ended up going to them back on Earth Prime. Earth The First. Whatever. And I knew it'd be different here — we were going for business, after all — but still! You get the idea. Maybe there would be like... food. Or something. Or a fancy dance floor, and slow music, and I'd just have to — well, uh, whatever happened there stayed there, ideally. And it'd be an excuse to put on like, makeup or something! Assuming this world had the same societal norms and pressures as back home. I mean, gender performativity meant that no matter what I'd be "faking" it, so... woo! Who cared!

But, no. There was more than just my own ass on the line this time. I had to think about Alice as well — and she'd seemed apprehensive. More than just apprehensive, actually. Genuinely anxious. I imagined whatever she'd gone through hadn't been good — she hadn't really specified much, which sort of left me wondering. And! I didn't want to be rude or anything and impose on her, she'd been really nice to me for the past few days! Especially given the situation. I saw her side-glances. She'd covered it up with anger, but I was pretty sure my being here was making Alice a little uncomfortable.

Maybe it'd be nice to try something different, though? I spun the coin on the table before me. While the house — er, base — we'd built had multiple dormitories, I'd decided to sort of live in the dining-room kitchen combination area. It allowed for me to do whatever I wanted after nighttime and Alice would be none the wiser. And, hey! It was a comfortable area! With a cozy, low ceiling and a couch I'd dragged in after getting tired of sleeping with my head on the countertop, the room really did feel like home. Though it was a little bland — all the walls and such in the base were the same color, a simple bluish-dark gray, and the slight metallic sheen kind of got boring after a while.

If Valor was here, she probably would have just asked Alice. And been all the better for it. But, well, I wasn't Valor — I didn't have her bravery. Honestly, knowing the lesbian dumbfuck, the two would probably have gotten it on by now: I was wor— better off than her in that regard. Better. Eh, who knows? Maybe I'd suck it up and go ask Alice what she thought at some point.

Ugh, but should I do that?

You know what? This indecision and also stupid circling wasn't helping. I stood up, pocketing the Coin, and walked outside into the lightly-showering rain. We'd gotten enough storage space to hold the hovercycle from our first heist, though it was leaned safely under an awning as of right now. But I couldn't use it anyways. Alice had the key.

Instead, I just... walked off, into the woods. I knew where I was, at least. I was able to perfectly calculate my location in relation to the base via digital dead reckoning. But I mentally dismissed the part of me that was at the forefront of my mind, tracking every step — I wanted to be alone. With myself.

I sighed. Now was a good a time as any to talk stuff out with myself. Both on what my path was going forward, more generally, and also what I... like, was. I sat on a small rock nearby. It was dusted with the same antimicrobial powder that everything else in the godforsaken forest was, but I quickly swept it clean and rested my legs properly.

So, the question was obvious. What was I? Well, I could go the obvious and literal route. I was an android — from what I'd heard, a corporate one. (Apparently there was some difference between corporate androids, regular androids, and robots. I didn't know what it was, and nobody fucking told me.) More than that, though, I was also a free one — from programming, conditioning, whatever. And I was working as part of a budding resistance force, the Exotrope Brigade. From my internal specifications, I was an "X-01" model, which probably meant that I was an experimental kind of robot, but Alice had told me I looked like I was built for combat. Not just modelled like a combat droid — built as if for personnel combat. Hidden compartments. High strength. Subterfuge. I had the ability to summon and unsummon weapons as a part of a halo system, which Alice was also working on weaponizing itself.

But that left a lot out of things. Like, for example — I was a human, a few weeks ago. A traditionally male one, too, as far as I knew. I had a few friends — Valor, and Lavie, and Kayla, and Seth — who was constantly about to change his name — as well as Alice, now. What could I do to sum all of it up but say that I was still human, in addition to machine? Not just in mind, either. I was a person through and through. Joy and fear and despair all ran through my circuits now. I liked good oatmeal and nice pancakes. I still hated sudden water. (Figures I'd be sent to a place which had pouring rain all the time. I liked snow more, at least. Eugh. Hope there was still winter here.)

So I wasn't just a robot. I wasn't just human. And I wasn't male or female — due to my robotic form, physical sex kind of got thrown out the window — nor was I exactly a man or a woman. Not by birth, at least. I wasn't exactly rich — obviously, I was penniless in this form — but I wasn't exactly poor, as I could probably find a way to utilize my body's services quite well if I needed to and had quite a few luxuries. At least I knew I was mostly fucking white. Except, well, that was also a little wonky due to my real body not having a race (sort of) and my projected body being pretty arbitrary because of it. Plus, my culture was weird — here, I'd be a total outsider, and back home my parents were fairly culturally Chinese despite one of them having married into it. I mean, I didn't think about that much, I just had like. Rice. That was normal.

So I was at a weird space: an intersection between a ton of different things. I couldn't just... be any one of these things. My species was as contradictory as it could be. I guess my gender was probably easier (if you listened to Valor, which I didn't, so there), but my sex was still inherently nonbinary. Unless I decided I wanted a binary sex. In which case, theoretically, I could model it all out in my head and apply it via... hm. Maybe leave those ideas for post-revolution.

Seriously, though. I couldn't just be a human or a robot, or a girl or a boy, or anything. I wasn't sure what to make of it, because labels didn't feel appropriate. Was I transgender by sheer act of having no sex? Was I queer by virtue of being a robot? What about my transplant? Did that make me something else? Was I an immigrant into this world? History was important, it shapes who you are. But my history was twofold. Who was I?

I was interrupted from my mini-panic attack by the sound of a notification. Valor. What perfect timing. I couldn't deal with talking to another person right now. My fake breathing — oh god, it was faked — was all out of rhythm, and I could feel my heartbeat (or whatever my heart was, its equivalent was hammering in my chest), and... fuck, no. I swiped the notification away without a second thought. Back to catastrophizing, my internal monologue said.

It was like, four AM, anyways. What the hell was Valor doing up? She hated staying up late, always avoided coffee whenever possible after 12. Said it gave her nightmares. And it wasn't even time zone shenanigans like it occasionally was for Kayla and Seth! We'd established that our two universes were roughly aligned time-wise, which was helpful, but it also meant that my friend was currently texting me in the... middle... of the night...

Oh fuck.

No time for catastrophizing now, internal monologue. I chided myself — how stupid could I get? I had to be better than this if I wanted to cause a revolution. What kind of leader doesn't even keep track of their own friends? — and rematerialized the digital link to Valor in my head, projecting it onto the inner screen of my personal office space and reading up on what she'd sent.

catgirlBrave: Berry, I'm going to be honest. I feel like shit right now. Normally I wouldn't ask, but could we talk over voice? I understand if that's not a possibility. Please be okay. It's alright if you can't.

chamberry: Of course! Call whenever you're ready.

Shit. Damn autocorrect. I had to fix that as soon as possible. Made me sound super fucking fake.

chamberry: sorry, been going through some stuff of my own haha. autocorrect

Honestly, I had no idea if the call function would work. Thankfully, I quickly saw the mental button to accept a call from Valor's chathandle, and entered it as speedily as I could.

"Hello?" I tried, internally and then externally once it was obvious that this wasn't like mental text communication. "Valor?"

A sniffle came through the other end, and then her voice. "Yeah. I'm here. Sorry for the short notice, I... eugh. I'm sorry."

"I'm probably the one who should be apologizing. I almost didn't remember you had an issue with late nights. What's going on?"

"I, uh, had a nightmare. Did I wake you up? I'm sorry." The fucking tension in her voice was thick enough that you'd probably need HEAT rounds to pierce it.

"No, no! I was already awake. Been considering some stuff. New mission. All that. Yup." I said, quickly. I hated hearing her like that.

Another sniff came through her mic. "Okay."

"Okay."

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We were silent for a moment, and then I couldn't handle the silence any longer. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Uh. Yeah, I think." Valor took a trembling breath. "I don't really know where to start, I — I, uh, had a nightmare. And a little more than that I think. I might be having a panic attack right now? I. I dunno. All of a sudden it just. Got to me. Like, I dunno what it is but I just realized that I might never fucking see you again. Like, physically, in person. You might not live another day. And I can't do anything more than — than sending you fucking paramilitia pamphlets. God, Berry. You're risking your fucking life. It should be me."

I stayed quiet. Valor needed to rant right now. "It should be me. I can't just... fuck. The Revolution was so fucking cool, you know that? Like, it sucked. We lost people. The— the fight for liberation and protection of the world was fucking hard. But there were so many people who really deserved to live, you know? And then there was me. I didn't figure shit out about myself until like, pretty much all the way through. And I didn't even tell you any of this shit, I just left it under the table. Sneak out here and there. Say I'll be going on a trip. A fucking year of this shit. I really hope you didn't care about me. Is. Is that bad? Because it feels like it is. You should be enjoying the life of fucking peace you have here. H—Had. Whatever." Her breath catches, and she takes a moment to collect herself.

Before Valor can speak up, I interject. "I'm, uh. I'm okay with this, you know? If you, er, helped with the Revolution, I'd rather you have the peace over me. I don't know a ton, but I do know that the trauma received was abnormally high. There's services for it near us, I think. Used to process some of the requests for therapy assistance. Anything from being given a mech to living in the woods. You ever thought about it?"

"Of course. I did pilot a mech for a bit after the cleanup ended and the pigs went home. Just... fuck, I dunno. I thought I was better than this, I'm sorry. I really don't want you to end up coming out of this with the same shit I did."

"And I won't. I mean, I've got you to back me up, right? And Lavie and all the others. Plus I'm a fucking robot that's badass and has a killer body, in both meanings. I'm going into this knowing it's possible, and knowing that it'll be hard but rewarding! Also, you're fine. Uh, progress isn't linear and all that. I'm not a therapist but this seems pretty serious, I don't see why being concerned over it would be such a big deal."

"I dunno," Valor said. "It's a feeling. Probably not all that accurate now that I think about it. You're not in any danger, right?"

"Nope, not that I know of. I mean, I'm kind of feeling like shit for unrelated reasons, but that's not a thing against my physical safety. Plus, Alice just got invited to a, uh... I dunno if it's good to say it out loud. But rest assured we'll be fine probably."

"Yeah... yeah, okay. I think I'm gonna be alright now. Do you want to talk about your own thing? Dunno if I'll be much help, but I can listen."

I nodded, then felt a little dumb for doing it when we weren't talking face-to-face. Shit was hard when the interface was in your head! "Y-Yeah. Um, I'm feeling mostly better now. Just had a minor existential crisis when I sat down and thought about who I was, y'know? I really hope I'm not just dead in your world, or that I'm not a copy or anything. And like, more than just the standard movie stuff too. Who am I? Because I'm not exactly a human and not exactly a robot, and I'm also not exactly a guy or a girl. Physically speaking," I said, clarifying. "I know that gender is different. But I'm kind of in the middle of all these contradictions or paradoxes or whatever? And I don't really know what to make of myself in the midst of all of it."

"Are you sure it's not your gender?" Valor asked. "Because it sounds like at least part of it is you. Uh, you sound like you're aggressively ignoring your gender. Sex is easy, that's just whatever you are at the moment, and. That's nothing, right? Unless you... wait, if your projection is hardlight... oh. Okay, so, still the same as I was saying, but it's just that your equipment and theoretically internal makeup can change. No biggie. As for whether you're a human or a robot, that's easy: you're a human robot."

I leaned back over the rock. "That's a cop out and you know it."

"Well, it's your identity. Labels don't work once you're outside the system they were designed for. You get to decide what you are now, and what that means. If you wanna take my suggestion because I'm really cool? Yeah, that works. If not, that also is an acceptable path. Part of figuring yourself out is figuring out where you stand in society. And you know that gender isn't something you can just fit into a given label — you need to puzzle it out for yourself. Even if that puzzle ends up putting you right back to where you started. We both know a ton about it. A great first point to then do the same thing for the rest of your identity. So why are you avoiding it?"

"I dunno! It's scary! Or a little not scary! I don't know. You get to be a girl and I don't. Or I'm not ready to be a girl. Or I'm being transgressive on femininity — ooh. Shit." My cheeks darkened just a touch. "I seem to remember you talking like this a year or two ago. Goddammit."

Valor laughed a little weakly. Her throat must have been strained from crying or something? "Yeah, got it in one. You're also phrasing it all as centered around being a woman. Why're you so apprehensive? This seems remarkably tame compared to the like, multi-day crying sessions I had when I was just figuring myself out. And when I changed my name. And when I started hormones. Like, this is easy street over here: one transgender queer girlbot, coming right up! Why the hesitation?"

"I, uh. I dunno. Maybe I was resentful of you guessing it so early on. Or. I dunno. I guess I've been feeling uncharacteristically self-introspective more often? Maybe it's just that there were other things to think about?"

"Or maybe you've had stuff to consider gender-wise. I used to cry a lot over not having a childhood the right way. Maybe it's similar with you? But I guess it could also be exacerbated, since you... got thrown into all this."

"Mmm. Yeah, that makes sense. Now that you think about it I... yeah. I sorta knew that all the definition stuff didn't matter. I think I was just... a little scared of losing literally everything in my life. And then potentially figuring out that I lived life without pivotal context for myself for over two decades. God. I've been alive for two fucking decades."

"Same here." Valor snorted. "Fucked up, right?"

"Yeah. Definitely makes sense, though. What you're saying. I dunno who I am because I got thrown out of everything I did know. So. Yeah."

"Yeah," she agreed.

"What happens now?" I asked.

"You figure out who you are. I mean, fuck. No offense, but you did kind of sound like shit earlier. Not now, but. Yeah." Valor didn't sound much better! She was still sounding a little stuffy-nosed. "But, also, you still tried to help me first. And apologized for not being there sooner, which in retrospect I probably should have called you out on for being dumb. You took like ten seconds. Fuck off."

"Wait, that was ten seconds???"

"Oh my god. I need to run you at a quarter speed. Yes, it was ten seconds. Or something. I wasn't really counting I was distracted. But, hey. What does that mean about you?"

"I'm a decent fucking person?" What kind of friend just leaves other friends — really really close friends, in fact — hanging like that? "What do you mean?"

Valor sighed. "I'm actually not gonna spell it out. This is funnier and more effective to you if you figure it out on your own. Still. You were hurting, and you still helped me out. I really appreciate it. Go, like, start wreaking havoc among billionaires or something. I'll be okay now. Thank you."

"Of course," I replied, automatically. "Uh. I guess this is goodbye for a bit?"

"Yeah, probably. By the way, I like your new voice!" Wait, I'd been talking to her for the first time??? In my new fucking voice??? Fuck! That was supposed to be some sort of grand reveal, but noooo. Shit! Goddamn!

After hurling at least three obscenities into the empty call, I disconnected just like Valor had a few moments ago. She probably knew I'd be doing something silly with my voice if she mentioned it. Can't get a good friend who won't mess with you these days.

Well. I felt a lot better, so I did know she was a good friend at least. Even if she did mess with me. I groaned and stood up anyways, doing a few stretches to get back into walking shape before heading back to the base. Wouldn't do to put myself in unnecessary danger, after all. And I had a dance to get planning!

With a newfound skip, I walked back to the kitchen table and started to plan out outfits in case Alice decided she wanted to go. I'd just prepare for every eventuality — go or not — and let Alice choose whatever was most comfortable for her! That sounded comfortable. It sounded like me.

I ended up working through the night and snoozing until a little past 10 in the afternoon the following day, surroundings filled with hardlight versions of dresses and suits and all manner of fun dresswear. And, notably, a rather displeased catgirl standing over me wearing an entirely-too slim catsuit, glaring daggers at my bleary eyes. I... had been dreaming about clothes, I guess. Oh god, wait. Did I do all this in my sleep? Looking around, the jungle of clothes seemed to stretch on forever. And I barely remembered the codes to access all of them in my hardlight processor. Which meant physically putting them away...

I groaned. This was going to be a long morning, and probably a longer afternoon after that.