ACTION TIME

[aphelionix]

The two days had come and gone since Locke stayed over at Weiler's. He was tipsy when Weiler had called that night and made their two day check-in rule - not that he forgot, but he couldn't stop the nagging feeling that something was off when he went to bed that night.

On the morning of the third day, he remembered.

The rule was to get out. He tried calling Weiler once, in case he had forgotten his own rule, but Locke was sure by now that it wasn't like him. It was all the sign he needed when the call went straight to voice mail. He headed right out the door of his room, only gathering his pistol and communicator. Through the bustling of the soldiers' morning routines, he managed to keep himself fairly blended in. No one seemed to be looking on him any differently. Locke was on the last stretch of the emergency escape route of Gladsheim's base - for Circle members, that was - when someone called his name.

His real name.

Comments

[aphelionix]

"You live by interesting standards," he said, half smiling. Locke glanced up, and sure enough, Weiler's hair was once again immaculate. "I didn't actually intend to fall asleep here."

[tactician]

"It's not a bad thing, to have standards," said Weiler, pushing off of Locke's chair and slipping into the one adjacent. "You can continue your nap in the Captain's room. I can watch over things here. If there's any sudden asteroid collisions or deep-space attacks, I promise to come get you, Captain."

[aphelionix]

"No, it's fine." Locke waved a hand, looking across at Weiler. "It'd defeat the purpose of the coffee, wouldn't it?"

[tactician]

"Sleep is more important, Herr Locke." Settling back in his chair, Weiler set the empty cup on the floor and kicked his feet up on the dashboard, folding his hands across his stomach. Sometime over the course of their errand running, he had managed to change out of his ripped and frayed dress pants and into a more casual pair of trousers. The two of them couldn't really run around in one standard-issue T-shirt forever. His shoes, however, remained the same, having long since lost whatever polished luster they might have had pre-arrest. "Wouldn't you say?"

"YES, SIR," said a voice that was distinctively not Locke's.

[aphelionix]

"I can run on-" but Locke stopped when a voice overlapped his, eyes wide. "What was that?"

[tactician]

Weiler, who had frozen, slowly put his feet back on the ground. "I don't kn-"

"THANK YOU SIR, I MUCH PREFER PREVENTING DIRT GETTING ON THE DASHBOARD."

[aphelionix]

Locke went silent, leaning forward and looking at the dash.

"You're kidding," he mumbled. "I think it's... talking to you."

[tactician]

Weiler turned to Locke. "I thought you said you opted out of an AI program."

[aphelionix]

"I did," he said.

"SURPRISE," the AI said. Locke slapped a hand to his forehead.

[tactician]

"Very much so," Weiler murmured absently, before smiling absently. He leaned back in his chair, glancing quickly at Locke with another, 'Well what can you do?' expression, and asked, "What's your name?"

[aphelionix]

"AIs don't have-"

"MCGRAW," it declared.

[tactician]

Making a low amused sound in the back of his throat, Weiler nodded along to the introduction. "Guten Tag, McGraw. Call me Weiler."

He set a hand on Locke's arm. "And this is Cupid, your pilot."

"HELLO, WEILER, CUPID."

Weiler couldn't look more pleased if he tried.

[aphelionix]

Weiler got a smack to the shoulder.

"Sorry to override your information this early, McGraw, but it's Locke. Not..." He frowned. "Not Cupid," he said quietly. God, he hated saying it.

[tactician]

"HELLO LOCKE," said the AI after a brief second. "THOUGH I DO INSIST THAT 'CUPID' IS A SATISFACTORY NAME. THE ETYMOLOGY OF IT HAILS FROM THE ANCIENT ROMANS, LONG BEFORE THE SPACE AGE..."

Weiler just grinned, but he knew not to push a point after it had been made. "Yes, McGraw, thanks for that, but I think the Captain might want to skip the history lesson."

"UNDERSTOOD," said McGraw, but damn if it didn't sound the slightest bit disappointed. "THE SHIP IS CURRENTLY HEADED TOWARD U.U.F. PLANET D-3-5-7-0-F-6, ERCLESSE. ALL FACILITIES ARE PERFORMING AS USUAL. DOES THE CAPTAIN WISH TO CUSTOMIZE THE REST OF MY SETTINGS OR PROCEED WITH DEFAULT?"

[aphelionix]

Cupid Locke looked very perturbed by the sudden enthusiasm the AI had. This was why he disliked them - they didn't get cues like humans did. Actually, this was perhaps why he didn't like other humans as much, as they didn't program their AIs to recognize them in the first place.

"Where's the switch that turns you off, McGraw?"

[tactician]

Weiler raised his brows but didn't interfere. It wasn't his place to, as he wasn't the Captain, and he was used to taking the backseat in such decisions.

After a second, McGraw responded as it was clearly obligated to. "I CAN TURN MYSELF OFF UNTIL YOU AUDIBLY REQUIRE OF ME, CAPTAIN," it admitted, though its mechanical words began trailing off near the end.

[aphelionix]

A sigh.

"If you're only located in the flight deck, then I suppose it won't be a problem." He really didn't like the AIs that followed you around the ship, asking if your shower water was acceptable, or if you needed your bed just slightly firmer when it could sense you weren't falling asleep right away. It creeped him out.

[tactician]

Weiler smiled and turned his attention to the dashboard. "Stay out of the bedroom, is what he means. We need our privacy there."

"OF COURSE, CAPTAIN. I WILL KEEP MY INTERJECTIONS SETTING TO A MINIMUM AS WELL." McGraw sounded somewhat relieved.

"Pushover," Weiler whispered to the side, cupping a hand over his mouth.

[aphelionix]

Locke slanted a look at him, somehow looking quite indignant when he sipped his coffee.

"I draw lines where I need to," he said. "Clearly you've never been stuck in a ship, by yourself, with an AI for a week."

[tactician]

"Poor Captain," Weiler sympathized, though he was clearly not at all sympathetic to Locke's proposed plight. "At least this time, I'll be here if you get stuck, and I'm sure we can come up with more interesting topics to discuss should the need arise."

[aphelionix]

When Locke finished off his coffee, he stood up, minding the knee brace he was now wearing that kept him from stretching his wound while the stitches helped it heal together.

"I believe that at least," he admitted. Locke nodded at Weiler's coffee, which in the surprise over the AI, had been forgotten on the floor. "Should I refresh that?"

[tactician]

"I've had enough, danke," said Weiler, though he did pick up the mug from the ground and hand it over for Locke to bring back into the kitchen and dump in the self-cleaning dish rack. Even with a low-frills model like the Grawthing, there were some luxuries that were standard by virtue of it being a long-haul craft, which made it perfect for a pair of fugitive bachelors who probably couldn't manage a constant bout of housekeeping between the two of them.

By the time Locke returned, Weiler was still sitting where he had left him, one arm propped on an armrest and his chin resting in its cupped palm. The man, blank-faced and hard to read, seemed to be staring out into the infinite blackness of space, surprisingly quiet and without a customary quip as the pilot returned.

[aphelionix]

By the time Locke reached the kitchen, it may have hit him that he shouldn't have left Weiler and the AI alone. He dreaded what he might come back to after dropping off the dishes, only when the door opened, it was absolutely silent. Locke raised an eyebrow down at Weiler. He looked... well, he couldn't quite find a word for it.

"Don't tell me you two got in a row already," he said.

[tactician]

Slowly, Weiler blinked, focusing as he did so, like a machine coming back to life. The first thing he did was put on an easy smile. "Hm? Oh, no, McGraw's been good - he's keeping quiet like he said he would. I was just thinking, Kapitän."

[aphelionix]

Locke eased back into his seat, looking over.

"About?"