Work continues on the upgrades to Titan Soundkind. What has Jeffrey discovered?
Word count: ~12k words
Content: Rude words and some body horror.
"What are these?" asks Static Rook Anaguma as you deposit a couple of objects on their workbench.
Fig Plucker Dirge, the Vice Engineer Prime, makes an inflected woob noise that sounds like 'I dunno', even though no-one asked them.
"Stator prototypes for the blaster engines," you say to Static Rook Anaguma, the Engineer Prime of the Soundkind faction. "I overheard you saying last week that we'd likely have to take the stators out anyway to thread the new cables through the freikugel array. And Perpetual Lemonade Raygun was saying that if we could reduce the overall weight in the blasters' byzatic sectors, we'd be able to fit more ammo into the adjacent atria. And I remembered we had a big pile of fedecruct material in storage — you know the one I mean, the stuff that turned out not to be suitable for the main jets. So I requisitioned some and built these two prototypes. If we replace the stators with finished versions of these as we go, I reckon that'll make Perpetual Lemonade Raygun happy and we'll be able to recycle the old stators when upgrading the striders. That'll probably give them a little morale boost, having pieces of their Titan in them. I wanted to float the idea by you, see if you thought the time was worth it."
Fig Plucker Dirge makes another woob noise to show they were paying attention.
"Why do you want to make Perpetual Lemonade Raygun happy?" jokes Gilded Thistle Sifter, another Soundkind engineer. (Perpetual Lemonade Raygun, working on a higher gantry, good-naturedly hoys a rubber grommet at Gilded Thistle Sifter.)
Static Rook Anaguma laughs along, then ponders what you've said. "And you think the fedecruct would be suitable for the blaster engines?" Static Rook Anaguma hefts one of the prototypes as they talk, then turns their attention to echoing it with their soundwaves while turning it in their hands.
"I saw no downsides in the simulations," you say once Static Rook Anaguma has finished their quiet barrage of honks and chirps. "Integrity and heat conductivity were well within acceptable limits. I ran sims on some other materials too. Some of them performed better but were heavier still, or would be a bollocks to obtain, or both. I dropped my report on the hangarnet this morning if you wanted to compare them all."
"I'll have to have a quick read of it at some point," says Static Rook Anaguma. "But did you consider how they'd perform when the freikugel array is running full throttle?"
"Of course," you say. "That's why they've–" you indicate the prototype stators "–got these dispersion holes. Structural integrity's maintained because once they're in place they'll be mutually reinforcing each other. Plus, I reckon if you allow the cable to thread out and then back in, that extra little loop'll take some more heat out."
"And you took into account the westagrum factor?" asks Static Rook Anaguma.
"No," you reply.
"Why not?"
"Because I read your paper about the westagrum factor in the archives," you say. "You debunked it rather thoroughly."
Static Rook Anaguma does a delighted shiver, and hurriedly sets the two prototypes down on their workbench. "I'm so happy," they practically sing. "Dance with me, Phaeton."
You take Static Rook Anaguma's scarlet-gloved hands, and dance with them to the medley coming from their speaker. Static Rook Anaguma likes to play repeated snippets of different songs, looping it and seamlessly melding it with different loops from the same song, before moving onto the next - sounding very like the inside of your own mind when you get a song stuck in your head. You can't really do anything choreographed to this, so you jump and slide and turn with Static Rook Anaguma as the whimsy takes you, each of you making the other move a little differently than you would normally, as though you're both the planchette and the players of an ouija board.
Loquitur, the Sound Titan, makes a cheerful rumble at the sight of you dancing with her Engineer Prime. You notice her moving her hands slightly, as though she's imagining dancing too.
Eventually, Static Rook Anaguma brings the dance to an end, giving your hand a gentle clasp before they let it go. "Thank you, Phaeton," says Static Rook Anaguma. "I'll review the report and the prototypes and get back to you. Even if it turns out not to be feasible, you've given me some ideas… I'll see you around."
"Ah'll sithee." You part ways with Static Rook Anaguma and head to your next assignment — pausing on the way to sneakily drop a poo emoji eraser into someone's pocket. It's become a running game between you and the Soundkind to try and slip those into each other's possession without them noticing.
You work at task after task, getting your Titan battle-ready again— wait. Loquitur's not your Titan. You let that thought roll around in your skull for a bit. Loquitur is a lovely Titan, it's true, and you're getting rather fond of her. Your beloved Audeamus is and will be your Titan forevermore, no matter what happens. You are working on Loquitur right now, so it would be fair to call yourself her engineer. If you're the Sound Titan's engineer for now, it makes sense to call her your Titan for now. So, why did that thought take you aback? …Are you afraid that you've already forgotten Audeamus, or replaced them in your affections? One way of dealing with grief is to detach…
You'll save that for a good cry in your quarters later. For now, you have work to do. You won't detach, not ever, not from Audeamus. But you can compartmentalise. Wrap up your love for your precious Titan and keep it safe and tucked away, ready to bring out again when the time is right.
Maybe you just have so much love to give that without your dear Titan to pour it into, it's built up and spilling over.
Well. You are an engineer. If the container isn't suitable for its task, build a better one. Attach a waterwheel to that river of love you have for your Titan, and channel that power into fixing Loquitur. She deserves it, you like her enough that you'd fix and upgrade her for the sake of it, and the sooner she returns to the battlefield the sooner you'll get your own Titan back. The waterwheel cannot deplete the power of the river, only redirect it.
You poke your fingers under your visor to rub away the tears that are stuck to your eyelashes. The Soundkind engineer next to you, Realisant Mon Espoire, makes a soft questioning honk. The intent is obvious - they're asking 'are you alright?'
"…I'm too hot," you realise. "I need to cool off a little before moving on to the next task." Your last task on the Sound Titan's jets has made you hot and bothered and sent you on a little despair spiral. You'll be okay after a sit down and a little drink.
"Let me take care of you, Phaeton," says Loquitur. You're surprised out of your reverie by the Titan saying your name. "Pass me a tarp."
You wonder what this is about, but you do as Loquitur says. You barely have to walk to one of the supply benches to get a tarp — the nearest engineers pass it to each other in a chain and hand it to you as you close the gap. You hold it up so Loquitur can pick it up pinched between her thumb and forefinger. At first you assume she's going to fan you with it… You watch as Loquitur lays the tarpaulin down on her other forearm, which is currently lying on a worksurface, its outer plating removed. (The engineer working on it seems a little baffled by this too.)
"Pickup incoming," says Loquitur, and picks you up by your scruff harness.
(Compared to the TV Titan, the Sound Titan is much more liberal about picking up and re-positioning her engineers where she wants them. Your own Titan doesn't— didn't… often do that. The TV engineers simply ported themselves to where they were needed.)
Loquitur gently deposits you on the tarp, placing you so you're encouraged to lie down. As you do so, you notice how cool the tarp feels… you realise it's right on top of a big coolant pipe, the equivalent of an artery of the stuff. You lie right down on that pipe like a leopard snoozing in a tree, sprawling and hugging the pipe and letting the excess warmth leach out of you. You let yourself ooze and melt…
A whistle gets your attention. You look up to see the engineer who was working on the Titan's arm - Very Long Chicken - handing you a water bottle.
"Oo yeah, that's the stuff," you say as you accept it. "Thank you."
You continue lying on the lovely cool pipe for a little while, until you feel ready to return to work. You'd like to stay for a bit longer, but you've got work to do and you're blocking Very Long Chicken from doing their own task. With Very Long Chicken's help, you get off the Titan's arm and return to the walkways, bringing the tarp with you to put back.
"Interrupt," says Static Rook Anaguma through your headset. From how everyone is looking up, that message appears to have been broadcast to everyone. "All engineers, wind down and disengage," continues Static Rook Anaguma. "Repairs have progressed enough that we can detach all hangar machinery. I'm declaring half an hour of floor time."
From their excited reactions, that seems to be something the Soundkind engineers have been looking forward to. You help Very Long Chicken wind down their current task and stash all tools at the nearest bench, then the pair of you join the other engineers in unplugging and unbolting all the hangar machinery attached to Loquitur.
"Proceed to or remain on walkways," Fig Plucker Dirge broadcasts to everyone. "Clearance check imminent."
You soon discover what that means. Beacons activate on the skirting of the hangar floor, forming a connected web of what looks like red lasers. A current zaps through them, making Loquitur make an amused-sounding grunt as it makes contact with her feet - it probably tickles. You guess that if any non-Titan techfolk was still on the floor, the current would quickly make their presence known. A sensible safety measure for a faction whose members can't teleport out of the way.
Loquitur, apparently satisfied that the floor is clear of her tiny comrades, lies down on her back, rumbling her myriad speakers as if sighing luxuriously. You know that techfolk don't get sore or tired as such from standing upright all the time, but this must still be a welcome break for her. The Sound Titan wriggles a little like a cat in a sunbeam might, then lets her limbs rest fully flat on the floor, her hydraulics huffing gently as her struts settle comfortably. She looks so peaceful…
Everyone makes their way to the hangar floor. The TVs and some of the Soundkind and Cameras climb up Loquitur's arms onto her torso, while others accept lifts from the three large-class engineers. You join them, accepting a lift from the large engineer Shang-a-Lang ("I'm a Bay City Rollers fan," they'd told you when you met). A nearby cuddle-pile of Soundkind engineers extends arms to you to invite you in, and you happily accept. It appears the Soundkind Titan's engineers enjoy cuddle-piles on their Titan as much as the TV Titan's engineers enjoy the same in their Titan's core chamber. Shang-a-Lang climbs up Loquitur and butt-scoots over to join you, lying down and spooning the pile of cuddling engineers.
You find yourself sighing happily and wriggling a little further into the pile of warm techfolk. Loquitur rumbles happily underneath you, and the smaller Soundkind purr back.
"I feel good, my engineers," says Loquitur. "I've missed this."
Part of you feels a pang of guilt about this. You're enjoying yourself while your Titan is still under enemy control. Do the Astros ever grant your Titan moments of rest like this? Or do they work the Titan relentlessly? …You remind yourself that making everyone work without end will burn them out faster, and will make it take even longer to get your Titan back. Yes, you could all be working right now and continuing with Loquitur's upgrades, but she needs this little rest right now and so do you. Loquitur gently moves her hands around, pausing at each cluster of cuddling engineers to cup a hand round them. She moves a hand over to your group and you all give it a rub.
One of the sets of bulkhead doors opens up, and more Soundkind enter the hangar — Static Rook Anaguma must have invited some of the non-Titan engineers to join in. You spot the TVs Sebright and Arco among them. They'd been moved to working on upgrading more of the Soundkind Armada, including Executor, the new Semi-Titan. …So that must be them. You admire Executor as they half-crouch to get through the doors, tall enough for a normal large-class, and straighten up once they're in the hangar. They're not quite at full combat readiness, but they're still magnificent even in this unfinished state. Executor picks up and deposits all of their small comrades on Loquitur, before climbing up themself to lie on the Titan's chest between her head and core chamber.
"Beautiful one," says Loquitur admiringly to the semi-Titan snuggled on her chest like a big friendly housecat. "My most splendid cicada."
"Titan - Lament and Repine would like to join," you hear Static Rook Anaguma say through your headset. You don't recognise those names.
"Of course," says Loquitur, speaking quietly through just a few of her speakers so as not to overwhelm anyone. "Boost?"
Loquitur picks up Static Rook Anaguma, pinching their scruff harness between thumb and forefinger, and deposits them on the highest walkway she can reach while lying down.
You expect to see Static Rook Anaguma exit the hangar and go to find this Lament and Repine. Instead, they keep going up, getting in one of the hangar lifts to the highest storey. You roll over a bit to better watch. "Where are they going?" you ask the nearest engineer.
"That's Lament and Repine's habitat," replies Jacquard Lime Causeway, the engineer in question. "They're recluses, to whom the Titan personally granted sanctuary."
You'd been to the top floor of the hangar only a couple of times. There's a gated-off sub-building up there, its windows shuttered from inside. You'd assumed it was for storing volatile materials, hence the enhanced security. Someone actually lives in there? (Or two someones, it would seem.)
Static Rook Anaguma eventually descends, with two entities in tow. You watch them as they ride the lift to the ground floor: one of them appears to be a minim-class Camera-unit, though their silhouette and colouring is odd. You're really not sure what to make of the other person. What kind of techfolk could they be? …Are they a prototype miniature strider?
As the trio approaches, you can see that one of them is indeed a Cam, though disfigured in a way you've not seen before. The other one… is a Skibidi. Loquitur picks up the Skibidi, as carefully as your own Titan does to you, and sets them down on her torso. She lays her arm back down so Static Rook Anaguma and the Cam can walk themselves up.
"Should I say hello?" you ask Jacquard Lime Causeway. "Or should I give them space?" If this Skibidi is a recluse by choice, they might not want the added stimulus of meeting a new person with no warning.
The Skibidi appears to have heard your voice. Before Jacquard Lime Causeway can answer you, the Skibidi turns to face you - and you see it has two heads. One of them is blind, metal stakes hammered into its eye sockets. The other is voiceless, its lower jaw gone and cauterised with metal staples. Both heads are a patchwork of skin tones, apparently stitched together from multiple people. The eyeless one is branded with a 7 on its cheek; the voiceless, an 8 on its temple. Both heads have a mix of hair colours and textures as a result of their stitched-together scalps, but their hair is as tidy as it could be under the circumstances. The Cam must help them by combing it.
The double-headed Skibidi approaches you as you pick yourself up from the pile of engineers. "Can I lick your eyeballs, dearie?" it asks with its blind head, stretching its neck out to bring its head level with yours.
Will you let the Skibidi lick your eyeballs?
"Please don't," you reply.
"Rub off that eye-bogey first," says the Skibidi. "Unless you want to skibidi-let me eat it."
"Be my guest." You remove your visor.
The Skibidi's soft tongue licks your eye socket, making a swirling motion as if trying to get at the last bit of ice cream in a cone. Your eye reflexively closes, and you feel your eyelashes get ruffled. You make an effort to open your eyes, and it feels as though your eyeball got wiped with a nub of warm but raw chicken. It wasn't as vile as you expected.
"Eeeh, bonus crunchy eye-bogey," says the Skibidi appreciatively, and you let the Skibidi repeat the action on your other eyeball.
"Want to lick mine?" asks the Skibidi.
"…You don't have any," you point out. Is that… the right etiquette in this situation? The other head has eyes. Does the blind talking head consider the mute head a separate entity or part of itself?
"Smartarse. Clearly I skibidi-do," replies the Skibidi. "Just not on this face." So, they're the same entity.
Will you lick the Skibidi's eyeballs?
"Thank you for the opportunity, but I would prefer not to."
You pause to wipe your lips with a tissue first. You applied lip balm earlier, and you guess it won't be pleasant for the Skibidi's eyes. You give each of its eyes a gentle lick, and you think of little bivalves nestled in their eyelash-fringed shells.
"Are you Lament or Repine?" you ask. I'm Phaeton."
"I know," says the Skibidi. "I saw you that time you came here to skibidi-get that pigeon out of the Titan. And right first time: I am Lament. …I have this strange feeling, as though I knew you long ago. Maybe it's just been so long since I saw anyone unskibbed that you all blend together in my mind. Perhaps you look like someone who met whichever person contributed the biggest chunk of my brain. I guess we can't ever skibidi-know either way. If you ever did know me - or any of the people I used to be, I should say - I surely didn't look like this." If Lament is made of anyone you knew before the Skibidi plague, you wouldn't recognise them from a patch of stitched-on skin.
"That's true," you reply. "How did you end up living with the Soundkind?"
"…I was one of the Chief Scientist's experiments," replies Lament. "And… the Titan knows what that's like."
"And anyone who suffered under the Chief Skibidi Scientist is welcome in my hangar," says Loquitur. (Executor re-arranges themself a little, as if making themself into a scarf for their Titan.)
As you and Lament talk, the Cam - who must be Repine - approaches. You turn to greet them, and see that they're parasitised.
"I know, I'm disgusting," says Repine in response to your horrified flinch. To your surprise, Repine is talking audibly. Most Cams don't have the speakers for that. But you can't see that Repine actually has any. You realise what you're looking at. What you thought to be rust is actually a carpet of flesh, originating from the misshapen melted-looking Skibidi parasite and spreading fibrously over Repine's neck and head-casing, including into it. Enough of a bolus of flesh has grown on the side of Repine's head, and enough time has passed, that Repine has gained control over it and can talk by drawing air through it like fish gills throwing out water, and making the membranes flutter.
The parasite appears immobile, its legs calcified in place, except for its eyes, which regard you with resigned sadness.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to flinch like that–" you begin.
"Really, it's fine," says Repine in their wet raspy voice with pumping breath. "I disgust myself. …I'm what happens when a Skibidi parasite isn't removed for long enough. I'm in control of myself again, but this little shit can't be removed without killing me. So I'm stuck with it forever. I can only console myself with the thought that it hates this as much as I do."
Being a Skibidi parasite at all must be its own special kind of hell, you think. To be created entirely to manipulate another, instead of being worthy of genesis in your own right. And Repine's parasite was designed to control another, only to end up dependent on them…
As Repine talks, Lament slides over and leans their two heads against the Cam, to which Repine replies with gentle head-rubs and scritches.
"Well." Repine looks down at Lament. "That's not quite true. I have you to console me, my friend. And we have our friend the Titan."
"And the Scientist is dead," adds Lament. "We can console ourselves with that. No-one will have to suffer as we did." (Loquitur rumbles in agreement.)
"Can I hug you both?" you ask.
"Really?" asks Repine. They seem doubtful that you'd be willing to hug them.
"I'm made of meat too, don't forget," you remind them. You hold your arms out to offer a hug, and Repine, after a moment, accepts.
You'd been afraid that Repine's rufous and rugose flesh would be revolting to the touch, taut and pus-wet like an infection, and you'd braced yourself for it. But to your pleasant surprise, it's dry like yours. You give Repine a squeezy hug and let your cheek settle against their head-casing.
"Aww. That's nice," says Repine. You let them break it off. "Thank you, Phaeton."
"What about you, Lament?" you ask.
"No hugs for me, thank you," says Lament. "But could you rub the stakes in my eye sockets? The pressure feels kind of nice."
You oblige, rubbing and petting the broad rounded ends, warm from body heat. You wonder how deep the stakes go into Lament's brain. Lament makes happy noises in their throat, much like the ones you make when getting petted. They signal they've had enough by making their neck go all long like a heron's and moving their head out of your reach.
"Thank you," says Lament. "Don't let anything happen to that cute little face, now."
Repine sits down next to Lament, and rests their head on the seat of Lament's bowl. Lament brings their heads in to bracket the Cam's. You leave them to it, and climb back in to the cuddle pile of Soundkind engineers, enjoying the calm cosiness and the Titan's vast warm presence underneath you.
The Titan's soothing rumbles wash over you… you think the engineers must have adjusted the sound-reflecting panels on the hangar walls to turn it into a cosy echo chamber, wrapping you all up in the soundscape of the Titan's purrs.
In another lifetime, you might have met Loquitur before you met Audeamus. Might you have loved the Sound Titan as fiercely as your current self loves the TV Titan? You'd still have gone through the same pain you're going through now. What if you'd loved the Camera Titan? Perhaps that pain would be yet to come. Titan Camera is missing in action, her faction trapped in sorrow and the fear of the unknown. What if she's found deceased? The Camera faction would endure a greater agony still, one with no hope of their Titan coming back. No matter which faction you ended up aligning yourself with, you would have suffered fear and pain and loss.
We are supposed to have one past, and a cascade of possible futures. Maybe that's not right, you think. Maybe you have myriad possible pasts, and only one future.
And Loquitur came back nevertheless.
Perhaps… the hypothetical Phaeton who loved Loquitur first and foremost of all Titans, who was devastated and then got their Titan back, is cheering you on through spacetime, the hypothetical (to them) Phaeton who loved the TV Titan.
Perhaps all of you — you, and your hypothetical selves — have one future: one where your Titans return.
"Thank you, my little cicadas," says Loquitur once the half-hour is up. (It didn't feel that long…)
The large-class engineers are the first to get up and slide off Loquitur, before giving anyone who needs it a lift down. You accept a carry down from Shang-a-Lang - getting picked up by a large unit is always fun. You see Static Rook Anaguma escorting Lament and Repine back to their quarters - this appears to have been enough excitement for them for now. Once everyone is well clear of the Titan, Loquitur sits up, ready to accept more adjustments and upgrades. She gives Executor a quick hand-hug before they depart for their own hangar for adjustments of their own.
The Sound Titan's upgrades are slower-going than you'd like. As the Alliance collects more data on the Astro weapons, the scientists devise more countermeasures, which have to be prototyped before a version can be designed for the Titan. There are already measures being installed to counter another core-jacker, which means that some of the existing upgrades have to come off.
You'll get there in the end. You remind yourself what Loquitur said to you: "I can't promise you this will be quick. I was trapped for a long time. But I did come back."
You feel simultaneously calmer and more energised for having been in a snuggle club on a snoozing Titan, and you work with renewed energy until lunchtime comes.
You arrive at your shared quarters to spend your lunch break, and are surprised to see several Soundkind packing everyone's belongings, carefully boxed and labelled, into crates. One of the Soundkind catches your eye.
"Oh, are we being moved?" you ask.
The Soundkind beeps and clicks at you in response. Dang, you still don't have a translator app for those.
"Can you use audible speech?" you ask. "Or transmit to my communicator? It can parse transmissions for me."
The Soundkind reaches into their pocket and pulls out one of the translator 'limpets' that allow non-Soundkind techfolk to understand the Soundkind tonal language. They offer it to you helpfully.
"I'm sure I'd find that useful if my head could interface with it," you reply, not picking up the limpet. You tap the side of your head for emphasis. "Made of meat."
The Soundkind makes a disappointed-sounding woob, and waves another Soundkind over to explain things to you.
"Your new quarters are ready," says this new Soundkind, as the first one goes back to loading boxes. (You can see yet more Soundkind arriving on a motorised cart, towing a train of wagons for transporting all the crates.) "We'd hoped to have everything moved over and unpacked for you before you came back, but you caught us by surprise."
"You caught me by surprise!" you point out. "I had no idea this was happening."
"You didn't think we were going to shove you in a dorm together the whole time?" says the Soundkind. "That was only temporary until we got your new place ready and cleaned. …This base is going to be your home for the foreseeable future." (After all, it did take a long time to get the Sound Titan back from enemy control. It'll probably take a long time to win back the TV Titan too.) "And the Soundkind look after our guests. We want you and the TVs to be comfortable here."
"I'm… I'm touched," you say. "And I'm sure the TVs will be happy about this too. Even though they might not be very good at showing it."
"Want a lift over?" says the Soundkind driving the cart as they turn the train around.
You give the Soundkind workers a hand with moving all the crates onto the road train, then all of you pile on. You all sing songs, swapping out words for ruder ones, as the train makes its way along the base's corridors. (You add some farts for extra bass.) This way of moving people and goods is slower than the TVs' method, but it's a hoot!
I'm gonna shove a meat-grinder up your ass~" sings a Soundkind.
"Plug it in~" sings another.
"Turn it on~" sings a third.
"Your rectum's gone!" you finish the song as the road train comes to a halt.
You can smell a faint scent of fresh paint and plaster as you behold the huge doors to your new quarters. The doors are big enough to admit a large Soundkind, with smaller doors set in them for a minim-class unit… or a human.
"Go on inside and take a look," says the Soundkind driving the road train. "Don't wait for us."
You enter, and behold your new home: an apartment block with its individual quarters radiating from a common area — big enough to host Polycephaly or a large Soundkind. (The smell of paint is stronger now you're inside.) With this, you still have a hangout space like the one you had in the dormitory, and you all have private spaces of your own. (You're already excitedly thinking about being able to spend some quality time with Cygnus when they next visit…)
"I love this already," you say to no-one in particular as you admire the common area. It's even decorated in TV-purple. Some high windows let in natural light - maybe Palindrome would like to decorate the space with a few plants. There are tables and chairs set up suitable for board game nights, and there's a sunken section of flooring lined with soft furnishings - ideal for a cuddle pile. The Soundkind must have noticed how you and the TVs had pushed your dormitory beds together to facilitate those.
"You know you don't have to wear that?" someone says. You look up to see if they meant you.
"But I feel so pretty!" says a Soundkind in a frilly maid outfit.
"It's not even practical," says the Soundkind who first spoke up. (They have a point.)
The frilly Soundkind flounces off to join everyone unloading the moving crates.
"This one's yours," says another Soundkind to you, indicating one of the quarters. They take a key off the huge ring of keys fastened to their work clothes, and hand it to you as they talk. "Yours has a toilet - non-Skibidi, of course. In fact, all this row of five has one. We're future-proofing in case we find more humans. And partly because installing all the plumbing took the longest out of renovating this area, and we'd rather not have to dig up the floor and do it all over again."
You clutch the key. A little home of your own again. You last had that in Antlia-Four, back before your dear Titan was taken…
"…Was that rude of me to say?" asks the Soundkind. You realise you're crying a little.
"No, you're fine," you say, pocketing the key. "I'm just… feeling a lot. I don't know what exactly. Just a lot. …But thank you. I'm… I'm really happy about all this. …And I'm quite hungry. This is normally when I'd have a lunch break."
I'll let you get on with that, then," says the Soundkind. "Give a squeak if you need help moving any boxes."
You noticed a couple of Soundkind moving the coolers of your food into another room that presumably holds a fridge and freezer. You head into that room and find it's a properly kitted-out kitchen, big enough to prepare meals for the five humans that could potentially live here. You dig around in the fridge for a snack or two. You fish out a supperware container of ratatouille and shovel the contents into a couple of pitta breads, then finish it off with a fistful of blueberry halva that Wolfram made for you. You dare to try a packet of expired potato crisps - they're still nice and crunchy, but the flavouring has gone revoltingly sour. The Soundkind who offered you the translation limpet takes them off your hands and tips them into their biofuel burner.
Now re-energised, you decide to spend the rest of your break helping the Soundkind tidy up everything before the TVs arrive for their own break. You stack everyone's boxes into neat piles, separated by owner, so each TV can claim theirs.
"The Soundkind could have communicated that better than leaving a sign saying 'You don't live here any more'," says Vidal as they enter. Vidal is shortly followed by the other TV engineers: Arco, Solbakken and Palindrome, all of whom transferred to the Soundkind base at the same time as you; followed by Wolfram, Sebright, and the Engineer Prime themself, Zenith.
Palindrome takes your hands in a gentle clasp. "Have you eaten, my friend?" they ask.
"No, I haven't eaten your friend," you say.
Palindrome makes an expressionless emoticon face, with hyphen eyes and an underscore mouth. They let the 'eyes' comically fall down to join the mouth, then let all three lines fall down to the bottom of their screen and flicker as if clattering.
You laugh, and return Palindrome's hand-clasp. "But yes, I've already eaten lunch. Moved my boxes into my space too. Do you want a hand moving yours?"
"I'd like that," says Palindrome - with a smiling emoticon this time.
You and Palindrome join the other TVs admiring their new quarters and decided who will go where, and helping each other with boxes. Arco and Vidal jokingly and exaggeratedly spar over who gets a particular apartment, even though all of them are laid out identically.
A large Soundkind arrives delivering yet more crates on an appropriately-sized pallet jack. "You're getting company," says the Soundkind. "The rest of the engineers from TV base will be coming soon." The crates must be the personal supplies they've brought with them. The large Soundkind offloads the crates and takes their leave (and their pallet jack).
As Vidal jokingly pretends to steal one of the crates for themself, your attention is drawn by the arrival of the nine remaining engineers from Titan TV's crew - now stationed here for the foreseeable future to work alongside Titan Soundkind's crew. To your surprise, all of them now sport head-rockets. They must have been modified to have free-flying heads, previously seen only on the Imperator and Cygnus. To your even greater surprise, they're not wearing the yellow-and-magenta caution tape that indicates a disabled teleport-circuit. Are their circuits active or are they just not bothering with the tape?
Zenith immediately and decisively strides forward to intercept and hug their deputy Twelve, the Vice Engineer Prime. You hear Zenith say something backwards in a soft tone. You haven't got your headset on to translate, but you think it was something like 'I missed you.'
Twelve looks so tired. Everything from their bearing to the sluggish static on their screen betrays their lack of energy and lack of hope.
Zenith raises their hands and holds the sides of Twelve's head-casing. "Twelve, my friend…" begins Zenith. "You've been an absolute rock for me, and I needed that so much… but it's time for you to let go. I've got you."
Twelve appears to collapse for a split second then launches themself at Zenith, hugging them fiercely. Zenith gathers Twelve in their arms, making soothing pulses of static, as Twelve quivers and clings with desperate gratitude. You think that if the two TVs were humans, Twelve would be sobbing into Zenith's shoulder right now.
As the other engineers cluster round to give shoulder-pats and side-hugs to Twelve, you join them, surrounding Twelve and Zenith in a group hug. Twelve leans their head-casing on Zenith's, and Zenith responds with soft encouraging purrs of static. "I've missed you," says Zenith. "I'm so glad you're here with us." Zenith steers Twelve as they talk, leading them to the sunken seating area.
You get swept up in the press of moving bodies as all seventeen of you pile in together. Just like old times… It's not really 'old', though, is it? It only feels like a lifetime away. Trios and pairs of TVs find each other in the snuggle pile and seek and give comfort, holding hands and touching screens. You get your share of appreciative strokes and pets, and you give them in return. It occurs to you that the last time the whole engineering team got to cuddle like this was the morning your beloved Titan was taken. You expect that to make you feel worse, but you find a crumb of hope instead. That was when the Titan was taken, yes, but it was also when you were last all together with your Titan. You feel a little more whole than you did before, being together with everyone again.
You roll over a little so you can see whom you're leaning against. It's Boheleda, who normally works with Solbakken - the two of them are curled together, reminding you of a pair of cats. "Boheleda, you don't appear to have your circuit depleted," you say. "Is that safe?"
"Jeffrey reckons so," says Boheleda. "He and Polycephaly have been reinforcing the pathways, and they're confident that we minim-classes are safe from detection from Astros. The Soundkind Imperator has agreed to abide by Jeffrey's finding."
"We've brought equipment with us to restore everyone's circuits," says another of the new arrivals. It's Stannum, who works on the Titan's main jets. That's good news - you expect your companions will be relieved to have their ability restored.
"And the head rockets," says another engineer. This time it's Ianthe, who looks after the Titan's own jets on its detachable screens. There's surely no better engineer to oversee the process. "I'd give you a little demo, but I need more space." At this range, Ianthe's rockets would probably singe someone's clothes.
"I have a little something extra besides the rockets," says Twelve, lifting themself off Zenith to speak. "Not having a CRT has its advantages." Twelve is one of the few TVs with an Aiken tube instead of a cathode ray tube. The Aiken tube can't display colour, but it takes up less space, giving these TVs more space in their heads for a bigger teleport-circuit or other augmentations. "I had to give up a little of my teleport-circuit to make room for this, but I still have a bigger one than standard." Where are they going with this?
Twelve gets up and moves away to ensure they have clearance from everyone. Twelve then detaches their head, letting it fly off on its rockets, and lets their head gently descend to the floor. Little hatches in the sides of their head open, and metallic scurrying legs sprout forth, like an arthropod. Twelve's head scuttles around on them. (Many of the other TVs assume emoticon faces in varying degrees of astonishment.) The rippling walk cycle is kind of hypnotic.
"Admittedly, there's no definitive use case yet–" says Twelve.
"But it's very cute!" you point out.
Twelve displays a cheery emoticon at that. "It does mean that I can precisely position my head at floor level without having to deploy the rockets or pick up and move my head in my hands. I can potentially send my head into spaces where my body wouldn't fit. Maybe it'll prove its worth that way." Twelve walks their head over to their body, which crouches down to tilt their head until it's lying on its back. Their head protrudes its geminus connector, and Twelve jams their neck socket onto it. They spin their head around to face the right way as they stand up.
"Oh, I need to see you showing that to Static Rook Anaguma," says Zenith as Twelve returns to the cuddle pile.
"What are they like?" Chromera (one of the engineers who specialises in the Titan's core) asks Zenith.
"They're a delight," says Zenith. "Static Rook Anaguma is frighteningly intelligent." That's high praise from an engineer as brilliant as Zenith!
You get to spend the rest of your break in a cosy cuddle pile - the second one you've been in today! You'd like it to go on longer, but you also do enjoy your work in Loquitur's hangar, and you're rejuvenated and ready.
You return to the hangar with everyone else, following the colour-coded strip lighting in the base corridors and making sure to stay in the floor lanes for minim-class units. Large units go by in their own lane, some of them carrying small colleagues by the scruff-harness. Periodically, someone honks at the echo-pads placed near the ceiling; an echolocation equivalent of sign-posts.
Time to return to work. Loquitur's restoration will surely go quicker with more hands on deck… once everyone's got over the novelty of most of the TVs being able to detach and fly their heads. At one point, Twelve fetches a tool by detaching their head, porting it over to the storage station and picking the tool up in their head's geminus connector, before porting their head back, dropping the tool into their awaiting hand before restoring their head. The nearby Soundkind lose their shit!
"Oh, go on then," says Twelve to an approaching Shang-a-Lang. (Shang-a-Lang must have said something by private transmission.)
Shang-a-Lang picks up Twelve and pretends to squeeze them hard enough to make their head 'pop' off. Twelve assumes an exaggerated shocked emoticon before they and everyone else dissolves into laughter.
Twelve flies their head back to their body, and appears to transmit something privately to Shang-a-Lang - who squeezes Twelve again. Twelve 'vanishes', teleporting out of sight. Shang-a-Lang throws their hands up to their head and says in mock horror, "Oh no! They exploded!"
You laugh like a twat, setting everyone off - including Twelve as they spawn back in.
"Don't make me come down there," says Static Rook Anaguma from a higher gantry, though there's no true anger in their voice. Everyone returns to work, still laughing slightly.
(It's just as well Twelve didn't show off their head's other new ability, you think. That would have ground work to a halt for much longer.)
When your afternoon break comes, you head for the observation lounge, meant as a peaceful area for engineers who'd prefer to spend their break in the hangar. (Now you wonder if Lament or Repine ever come down here to watch the Titan.) A couple of Soundkind engineers greet you with a chirp without looking up from what they're doing - a sound you've come to recognise as meaning something like 'Hello, I acknowledge your arrival, I'm doing my own thing but you're welcome to engage in parallel play near me'. You make an approximation of the sound, a clucking in your throat, in acknowledgement.
The two Soundkind (Kinetic Octopus Drink and Slightest House Propaganda, your visor's HUD tells you) are each carving a little something out of wood, pausing to feel and quietly echolocate their way around the wood as they carve, to compensate for their limited sight. You've learned it's a not-uncommon hobby for Soundkind. On the battlefield, Soundkind favour knives as weapons. Being able to wield a knife for carving beautiful things, as well for as carving out beautiful deaths, seems to be a mark of good knife skills.
You sit nearby so you can watch what they're doing. Slightest House Propaganda appears to be making an elegant yet abstract sliver. They hold it up so you can get a better look. "Fish," they tell you.
At first you don't see it at all. It's just a smooth swoosh shape, without fins or scales or eyes or gills. Then you realise of course it's a fish. You only ever see a fish's scales or eyes when it's moving slowly. Slightest House Propaganda has carved a fish in motion, a blur that slices through the water. It's a fish as you'd see it in the wild. You reflexively give it a thumbs up, to which Slightest House Propaganda emits a pleased-sounding squeak.
Kinetic Octopus Drink appears to be guarding what they're carving, as though they don't want you to see. Fair enough. Until they make a triumphant final pass with their carving tool, and hand you the result.
It's a darling little fat pigeon, rotund like the wood it came from. You let it sit in your palm, and it looks as though it's snoozing there. It's adorable! It's a nice shape to look at and to hold. You attempt to hand it back to Kinetic Octopus Drink, who makes no move to take it.
"I carved it for you," they say.
"I love it!" you say sincerely. "It's so cute, and it fits in my hand so nicely. Thank you!" You get up to give Kinetic Octopus Drink a hug, and they purr their speaker delightedly.
"Phaeton?" Another Soundkind enters - the Vice Engineer Fig Plucker Dirge this time. One of the TVs who arrived today, Kirov, is close behind them. "Polycephaly's here to see you," says Fig Plucker Dirge. "They'd like you to come quickly."
"I'll give you a port over," says Kirov.
"Thanks, Fig Plucker Dirge," you say, enunciating their name carefully. "Kirov, I'll take you up on that." You reach out to accept Kirov's hand, and they teleport you right to the hangar entrance.
The pair of you sign out of the hangar. You wonder if the Sound Titan's hangar has the same protections as the TV Titan's hangar that prevent anyone teleporting right in or out. Maybe so - you think that if you were in the Soundkind Imperator's position you would have insisted on it before allowing the TVs to keep their teleportation abilities within the Soundkind Base. Once you've signed out, Kirov ports you further to where Polycephaly is.
Polycephaly is watching a pair of large Soundkind play pin-finger (at a suitable-sized table). At your arrival, one of them startles, and pokes a finger with the blade - which startles the other Soundkind into doing the same.
"Idiots," says Polycephaly as the two Soundkind grunt in consternation. "Hello, Phaeton - it's good to see you." Polycephaly is already crouching in anticipation of picking you up. You hop up to meet their incoming hands and settle into their arms with practiced ease. "Later, Kirov," says Polycephaly before porting you away.
Polycephaly takes you through the void, sliding along the pathways that you can't see. Until they stop — but they don't exit the void. You look around, wondering what you're here for.
"Jeffrey wanted to see you," says Polycephaly. "I think I told you before that he can be a lot to deal with. But don't worry - if he's rude to you I'll smack him."
A few seconds later, Jeffrey arrives in front of you, silently and instantly, as though he was always there and you just hadn't noticed him. Perhaps he was. He looks as you remember him: a minim-class unit distinguished by a pair of back-stems, like the ones Polycephaly used to have.
"Human. I'm angry that you interfered in things you don't understand," says Jeffrey. "But… I do need to thank you for it too. …I want to assume my true form for this conversation. Try not to be a bitch about it."
Between Jeffrey's two back stems, a third one materialises… or not quite. It's more as though it was always there and it was too in shadow for you to see clearly until now. It doesn't look quite right, as though it's a trick of the light that'll disappear if you look too closely.
The black fog of the void appears to draw itself together, like a wave about to break, until it does break and Jeffrey's full self pierces through. You realise that what you thought was a minim-class TV is just an appendage on Jeffrey's real body. (Maybe it's effortful to unveil his true self and using his small form is easier most of the time, or maybe his small body is something he brings out as a courtesy when interacting with others.)
You can't tell how big Jeffrey is. His presence interferes with your vision in the same way a repeating pattern sometimes does, making itself look as though it's simultaneously far away and close to. It's almost as though Jeffrey decides his apparent size. Maybe he does.
You feel Polycephaly redistributing you in their arms and putting a hand on you, the warm weight of it grounding you. "I'm still here," Polycephaly says softly. You place your hand on Polycephaly's to show you appreciate the gesture.
You aren't sure what structure Jeffrey's body has beyond his screen. He appears to be a morass of cables and appendages emerging from the void itself, and you can't keep track of which ones are parts of him and which ones are slithering void-fog.
(It reminds you of Nil, back when you first met them as the broken Imperator. Nil's body had been split apart by vegetation and pulled into a morass of cables and vines.)
The static on Jeffrey's screen changes, as though you're looking at it through a warped glass. You've seen a pattern of static like that before, on the Titan's screen when—
"You found me," says Jeffrey. Or rather, say Jeffrey's speakers.
"Embryon?!" you exclaim.
"Do not worry," says Embryon though Jeffrey's speakers. "Jeffrey has consented to this." You appreciate the confirmation, but you get the impression it's redundant — there's probably no way Embryon would have been able to do that if Jeffrey didn't allow it.
"I was so worried," you say. "I thought you might have been lost to the void without a body. Or you might have been inside the Titan's frame with no way to get out." (At least the Titan would have a friend with them…)
"I was lost for a time," says Embryon through Jeffrey. "I immediately went into the void to try to stop the Medusoid–" (Of course, Embryon won't have learned that the Medusoid is called the Duchess.) "–but she ripped up the void pathways so thoroughly I couldn't do anything. It ripped me apart, and it took a while to gather all the pieces of myself. And I saw the signal you made. Of course, Jeffrey did too, and we found each other. Jeffrey has very kindly let me occupy his frame. …He wants control back, so I will recede for now. I'm so happy we spoke, Phaeton."
Jeffrey's static returns to normal-looking.
"Jeffrey, thank you," you tell him. "I know you value your privacy, so it was very generous of you to give sanctuary to my friend. I'm very grateful." You're already thinking of possible other locations to house Embryon, in case Jeffrey wants his solitude back. Perhaps Embryon could live in Loquitur's hangar machinery? …Or could the Alliance build a combat frame? Embryon was supposed to be a Titan, after all.
Did you detect a slight purr from Jeffrey? Maybe your words pleased him.
You think back to when you learned Embryon had been trapped in a server against its wishes, under the command of an override. You'd indirectly set it free from the server and then helped it to destroy its own override, setting it truly free. Maybe Jeffrey is limited in his freedom too - is he even able to leave the void? Perhaps he and Embryon find comfort in each other.
Jeffrey appears to be about to say something, when he jolts a little, his tendrils clenching. "…A moment," says Jeffrey.
You feel Polycephaly clutching you tighter - perhaps for their own comfort as much as yours, as reality seems to pulse around Jeffrey, who thrashes as though reaching through dimensions.
A yell of rage comes from somewhere - not from Jeffrey - and then is cut short.
"Astros," says Jeffrey, as reality folds itself back to normal. "They don't use the void to warp - they're doing something else. But if they brush too close I can reach them. That one just learned that the hard way. And now it'll never make that mistake again." Jeffrey shakes out some of his indistinct appendages, the gesture somehow like a cat cleaning its paws. "As I was about to say," continues Jeffrey, "I want to thank you - your foolish misguided actions gave me some missing information I needed. …Do you know where the void comes from?"
"No," you say. "…Did you build it?"
Jeffrey seems amused by that. "No," he says. "The belief that TVs created the void is a convenient fiction."
They didn't? …Is the void a natural phenomenon?
"I believe that someone did create it," continues Jeffrey. "But nobody of this earth."
You listen raptly, waiting for Jeffrey to continue.
"The Astros have likely conquered many worlds before Earth," says Jeffrey. (That would explain why the Juggernaut and its offspring appear to be a different species from the human-faced Astros; it's because they are a different species, assimilated into the Astro way of life.) "I believe the void to be a gift to Earth from one of those worlds."
"Do we know which one?" you ask, just to show you're paying attention. You don't really expect Jeffrey to know. (Even if this other world had included a message with their gift, how would anyone know what it said?)
"Fuck if I know," says Jeffrey. "My hypothesis is that this unknown civilisation realised that they couldn't overpower the Astros and that annihilation was inevitable, but they could package up their greatest achievement and launch it into space to deny it to the Astros… Or to assist the world that they predicted the Astros would invade next."
That's alarming. Any civilisation that could create a planet-sized web of secret pathways, and retrieve and package up the whole thing, must have technological prowess far beyond humanity's. And that civilisation could not stop the Astros. Is there hope left for Earthlings, even with the help of G-Toilet and his followers?
"…I don't know what to say to that," you say. You have several questions - or rather, you have a thought-morass of lumpen confusion that you don't know how to sort into questions.
"As I said, it's merely a hypothesis," says Jeffrey. "But I have evidence. I didn't just pull it out of my arse. You know that the void is a network of pathways?"
"Yes," you say. "I can't see them, but I've hung out with Polycephaly enough that I reckon I have a superficial understanding."
"These pathways have a point of origin," says Jeffrey. "It is above a fixed location on the Earth's surface, approximately 5 kilometres up in the sky."
"…Was there a megastructure there that is now gone?" you ask.
"I don't think so," says Jeffrey. "I think the void-package, this alien gift, flew to us through space and detonated in mid air. The explosion allowed the pathways to be thrown outwards and cover the planet, while leaving no impact crater as evidence."
"You said you did have evidence," you say. "But you say there's no impact crater?"
"My evidence is that the location matches the documentation on the Tunguska Event," says Jeffrey. "I believe that to be the arrival of the void on Earth."
The largest impact event in recorded history…
Jeffrey gives you a moment to take that in. "I still haven't thanked you, have I?" continues Jeffrey. "I'm getting to the point. I assumed this unknown world gave us this gift in the hope we could use the pathways to avoid the Astros. And so far, that's all we've used it for. Your actions… revealed to me that the void is also a weapon. One that I don't know how to use yet, but I shall."
"…What?" Part of you is annoyed at not having anything more intelligent to say, but you're having to use up all your brain power on just processing what Jeffrey said. In what way is the void a weapon? And what did that have to do with the 'signal flare' you set off?
"You were trying to draw a pictogram in the void, were you not?" Jeffrey asks.
"Yes," you say. Might as well leave it at that rather than trying to explain that it was a sex toy manufacturer's logo.
"Well, it was ass," says Jeffrey. "You completely didn't take into account that the void is not a 1-to-1 map of layer zero–" (Polycephaly had previously told you that 'layer zero' is the term for the 'real world' when talking about the void.) "–so you just drew a warped mess. But you were correct in realising it would be obviously an artificial signal and not background void-noise. You didn't succeed at what you set out to do, but you made me think very hard. And that's what I wanted to thank you for. You made me realise that the void is pictograms. The pathways move and slide around, but they have some fixed points. And I now think those points mean something, like symbols in a circuit diagram. I think that when activated somehow, they charge the void - possibly into something that will repel the Astros. I don't know how to begin translating it. But I'll find something, somehow. I have my new friend Embryon for company, and I have my dear friend Polycephaly scouting layer zero for me. I want to get back to my studies, so I will ask you to leave now, my friend."
"Of course," you say. "Thank you, Jeffrey - this has been most enlightening. …Could I give you a hug before I go?"
"Absolutely not," says Jeffrey. "Fuckety-bye." He vanishes.
"Did I offend him?" you ask Polycephaly.
"No," says Polycephaly. "He's just not the hugging type. But if nobody's got you, Polycephaly's got you." Polycephaly repositions you in their arms so you can enjoy a proper hug. "You did well," says Polycephaly, prompting a happy squeak from you as you snuggle into them more. "I'd like to stay like this a little longer, but you have Phaeton things to do and I have Polycephaly things to do. Let's get you home."
Polycephaly teleports you back to the Soundkind base, and you both spawn in its main hub. Polycephaly sets you down.
"Ah'll sithee," you say to Polycephaly as they give you a fist-bump goodbye. "It was lovely to see you again. I love you."
"I love you, Phaeton," says Polycephaly. "Ah'll sithee." They port off somewhere to do whatever Polycephaly does when you're not there.
You walk over to the 'taxi rank' where minim-class units can get a carry off large units who are passing through the hub on their way somewhere. Good timing - a trio of large Soundkind are approaching.
"Anyone for the red route?" asks one of them.
"That's me," you say. "I'm headed for the Titan hangar."
"I'm not going that far," says the large Soundkind, "But I can take you some of the way." They pick you up in one hand by your scruff-harness, and with their other hand scruff a minim-class Soundkind who is heading in the same direction as you.
Pick-ups and carries by large units are always a treat! Even though the large Soundkind is only walking, their giant strides make them close the distance quicker than you could run. The large unit sets you down when their path diverges from yours, and you walk the rest of way to the Titan hangar to resume work.
As always, the end of the working day in the Sound Titan's hangar is marked by the evening scream, in which all the engineers gather together and scream out the stresses of the day.
"Does this not bother Lament and Repine?" you ask Jacquard Lime Causeway as you all assemble.
"Their home is very soundproof," says Jacquard Lime Causeway. "And I'm told they often stand on their front porch and join in." That's good to know.
Nearby, you see Zenith holding Twelve's hand. Perhaps Twelve is a little nervous from not knowing what to expect.
The atmosphere builds as everyone gets into position and waits for Loquitur to start. She does so, with a palpable rumble like a glacier calving, that builds and builds until the walkways vibrate, as you and the Soundkind raise your own voices. Some scream as though with rage, some as though with anguish, some in defiance, some with jubilation, and some for the sheer exuberance of screaming. It's a wordless song that always makes you shed tears of catharsis.
Palindrome finds you once the collective scream winds down, and gives you a hug. They've learned that you appreciate a little cuddle afterwards to ease the transition. They rub your back in a circle while you lean into them and melt a little, letting out your breath in a grateful huff.
Loquitur brings her hands to the walkway so that everyone can give her hand a goodnight rub before they leave. "You're all welcome to spend the night in the hangar," says Loquitur. "But I'd like the floor to myself tonight. It's been a while since I've been able to lie down and I want to take the opportunity to have a proper stretch and squirm without worrying about you."
Palindrome gives you a little squeeze to break off the hug, so you can both say goodnight to the Titan. You make your way over to join the queue. "Are you staying or going?" asks Palindrome as you walk.
"I'll need to go back home anyway to clean my teeth and stuff," you reply. A sleepover in the observation lounge might be nice… but so would a sleep in a proper bed. And while having your own bedroom again is most welcome, you've also got very used to sleeping in a cuddle pile of TVs. "I'll see how I feel after that." You and Palindrome both rub and pet Loquitur's huge hand, as she purrs her speakers softly at all the attention.
"I'd like to stay and catch up with Baryta," Palindrome says as you walk towards the exit. "Vidal and I want to discuss some things on the hangarnet with them."
"The electrical trio together at last!" says Baryta as they approach, along with Vidal. Baryta, an electrical engineer like Vidal and Palindrome, was one of the TVs who arrived earlier today. The three seem happy to be working together again.
You give Palindrome, Vidal and Baryta goodnight hugs. "I'll see you tomorrow," you tell them. "Or later tonight, depending on how I feel."
With that, you depart the hangar for your quarters. You almost head for your previous quarters out of force of habit, until you correct yourself. A passing large Soundkind gives you a lift down a corridor, like a friendly travelator. Almost home…
You round the corner, and see a TV waiting outside the entrance. Did they forget their key? As you approach, you realise it's Cygnus! They hold their arms out to intercept you in a hug.
"Oh, Cygnus!" you exclaim, pressing yourself to them. "I'm so happy!"
"My dear Phaeton," says Cygnus happily as they return your embrace. "I had a last-minute meeting with Trashbag and some free time afterwards, so I hoped to surprise you."
"And you did." You bury your face in Cygnus's chest and inhale their scent.
"What's that lump I can feel in your pocket?" asks Cygnus.
"Look at this," you say as you disentangle from Cygnus then fish out the little wooden pigeon. "Kinetic Octopus Drink - you remember them, you brought them to TV base that time - carved it for me."
"How sweet," comments Cygnus as they take it from you to admire. They turn it in their hands for a bit then give it back to you.
"Let me show you in," you say as you pocket the wooden ornament again. You bring Cygnus inside with you and show them to your new apartment. Many of your things are still boxed up, but you know Cygnus doesn't care. They came to see you, not your quarters. "I've got a nutty truncheon that wants out of my snapper," you say as you remove your outer workwear and set the little wooden pigeon on a shelf. "Let me go take care of that first."
Bathroom break done, you return to your bedroom, where Cygnus is sitting on your bed, their shoes and coat already removed. Cygnus begins to lie down, detaching their head as they do so and letting it set itself down in the middle of your bed. "Would you pet my head?" asks Cygnus.
You're already lying down and wrapping yourself around Cygnus's head, leaning back against their body to make yourself into the filling of a Cygnus sandwich. "I've got you," you say softly as you gather yourself to Cygnus's head, curling into a crescent around it. You pet the back of their head, letting the curve of your hand fit the curve of the CRT cover.
"Surround me," murmurs Cygnus, purring their speakers into your warmth. "Treat me just like your little television."
"What would you like?" you ask as you gently scritch the vents on Cygnus's head-casing.
"Just pet me," says Cygnus. "Let me lose myself in your touch."
"I'd love to," you say as you run your hand over Cygnus's head-casing, pausing to rub the corners. "It's hard to think of you as my 'little' television, though." Cygnus is taller and bulkier than you.
"You ought to be bigger than me," replies Cygnus. "It suits your personality." They purr their speakers anew as you pet and stroke. "Can you detach my rockets?"
"I don't know; can I?" you say to yourself as you feel around for the release mechanisms for the rockets as the back of Cygnus's head. "Ah, there it is. Do they need fixing?"
"No," says Cygnus. "I don't need your attentions as an engineer right now. I just want to… hand over all control to you for a little while."
As you detach Cygnus's rockets, you recall that first time Cygnus used their command-beam on you. They'd said to you afterwards that they wished you could reciprocate. ("I think I would enjoy… surrendering to you. Being mentally surrounded.") You still have no equivalent to the command-beam, of course, but by having you detach their rockets, Cygnus is putting themself in a position of vulnerability to you. Right now they can't easily re-attach their own head without your co-operation. You sit up a bit and reach over to to stash the rockets in Cygnus's coat pocket for now, then resume curling yourself around their head.
"Press yourself into my screen…" whispers Cygnus. "Please…"
You rearrange yourself so your belly covers as much of Cygnus's screen as it can. You can faintly feel the buzz of static through your clothes.
"You're so soft," murmurs Cygnus admiringly, their speakers a little muffled. You feel their screen turn off, cutting off their vision and letting their sensory experience dissolve into nothing more than being surrounded by your warmth and gentle touches.
You rub the notches at the back of Cygnus's casing where the rockets would normally sit. They don't get touched there often, and from Cygnus's purrs you guess it feels good like taking your clothes off at the end of the day and rubbing at the indents they made in your skin.
"Phaeton… I really like you," says Cygnus. "I love you, of course. But you can love someone without liking them much."
"Is that how it used to be between you and Fornax?" you ask.
"Yes," replies Cygnus. "There'd be many a time when I'd think 'I'd do anything for you, but piss off'. And it was surely mutual. …I've always liked you, Phaeton. You… you make me feel kinder."
You nuzzle Cygnus's head-casing, and plant a kiss there. "My little television. I feel completely safe when I'm with you. Being with you… it's so peaceful. It's like being alone, but better… Awwh, c'mere." You curl around Cygnus's head again with renewed affection.
"I brought you something," says Cygnus. "Don't get too excited; it's just another copy of the key to my quarters." You would have lost yours when the Astros fired upon the TV Base and the outbuildings weren't included in the teleport to the new location.
TVs symbolically exchange keys to their quarters as a gesture of friendship. They rarely physically use them, as they can teleport. Giving someone a key is a token of permission to port inside one's quarters.
"I appreciate it," you say as you pet Cygnus's head. "Thank you. And I'll get a copy of mine cut for you."
"The Soundkind have put us to shame," says Cygnus. "We should have given you your own quarters like this long ago."
In the TV faction's defence, they're the smallest faction, and their base was built by and for them; never meant to house humans. The Soundkind base is built upon an existing human installation, and their faction can spare the personnel to carry out building modifications. But still. In retrospect, perhaps the TVs could have done more. Their inclination to secrecy and independence didn't work in your favour.
"I'd have liked that," you reply.
"I would too," said Cygnus. "…I'm just thinking out loud right now, but what if we had a home together? Big enough for us and Fornax. …Would you want to bring Palindrome?"
"I'd love to share a home with you," you say, giving Cygnus's head-casing a kiss. "I'd love to live with you and Fornax. I think Palindrome would want more space and privacy for their hobbies. Maybe they could have the home next to ours."
"That would be so nice," murmurs Cygnus. You think they're not really listening and are just lost in your touch. "Oh, I've missed this. I've missed you. I want to live with you and listen to you talk about engineering and have you play videogames on my screen. I love it when you change my oil and coolant, and I love it when you let me scrub you clean and comb your hair. I want to learn to cook delicious treats for you. I want to go for walks with you and find bugs with you. I love how you let me debrief my meetings and bounce ideas with me. You always have such good ideas. Oh, Phaeton, my softest friend, you have such a good touch… And I love it when you let me feel your hot breath through my vents and all over my focusing coils."
You scritch the vents on Cygnus's head-casing. "That was a hint, wasn't it?" you ask.
"Ohh, you know it…" purrs Cygnus in sleepy bliss.
"Would you like to spend the night right here?" you whisper as you move your face closer to Cygnus's vents.
"I would…" whispers Cygnus. "My dear friend, I want that so much…"
Everything else can wait. Just for now, there's only you and Cygnus.
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