Necromechanic - Chapter 12: A Knight Who Knows Not Their Past, is Blind to Their Future
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Writing Gary who's a bit of an asshole is quite fun, they can't all play nice can they...
Soap swears his boot is going to leave a hole in Gary's room. His leg has been bouncing up and down for the last 10 minutes incessantly, the rubber of his sole rubbing off on the white tiles until they turn black.
Gary seems content typing some shit on his computer, refusing to tell him anything regarding his findings. Ghost, as unreadable as ever, stays still by his side as they wait for Gaz, who was probably on the other side of the damn fort when they were called, as luck would have it.
He leans over to Ghost, whispering, "did they give ye the ability to get information from computers without touching them?"
"Are you referring to hacking?"
"Aye, aye, hacking, can you hack Gary's computer?"
Ghost turns to stare at his hopeful expression, "no."
Soap throws his head back, groaning, right as the door opens.
"finally!" He exclaims loudly, startling Gaz as he walks in.
"Bloody hell, I didn't take that long to arrive!" Gaz huffs, his stare flicking from Soap to Gary.
Soap opens his mouth to interject, but the text-to-speech voice Gary uses cuts him off, "now that you're all here, I think it's time we get into it, yeah?"
The light teasing he had prepared on his tongue dies, a cooler demeanour growing in its place. He, Ghost and Gaz turn to look at Gary, who drags his chair aside to reveal what he's been working on all this time.
They step closer, Soap skimming through the lines of text on screen. It looks to be some sort of transcript, someone speaking of the G.H.O.S.T. Project. Before he can ask exactly what they're looking at, Gary levels them with a piercing stare.
"I have here information regarding Ghost's past. Was I correct in assuming that's important to you?"
"You-? Yes! This is what we need, thank you-"
The text disappears with the click of a button, a blank slate reflecting Soap's surprised face.
"Not so fast," Gary leans back, eyes trailing Ghost's metal body, "I'm not doing this for free, am I?"
A light smile graces Gary's lips, a curve that would once make Soap return the gesture, but now only invokes rage.
He steps in front of Ghost, breaking his line of sight, "yer a fuckin' prick and a reprobate, ye low scum. Ye can't just withhold his own memories from him!"
Gary's expression sours, "I'm not withholding anything, Soap. I'm asking for an exchange."
"Yer askin' for my fist to land right up yer arse-"
Soap growls as cold fingers wrap around his shoulder, nudging him aside. "What do you want from me?" Ghost asks, tone flat.
He's about to jump between them again, but Gaz shakes his head. "Let him decide, that's what you wanted." He whispers, and God does Soap hate that he's right.
For good and bad, Ghost can choose to risk himself, just like any other human being. Doesn't mean he'll fucking sit in silence and watch him be extorted for information that by all means should be freely given to him, though.
"Ye don't have to answer to him, Ghost." Soap says, hoping he'll refuse to play into this sick game.
Ghost, however, simply answers, "I know."
Gary, for his part, huffs, "right. Ghost, can you give me your forearm? Want to check your system more… Closely."
The metal plate on his arm flips open, wires connecting to it with a swift movement. Lines of code crawl across the screen, and an odd feeling in Soap's gut urges him to look away. If someone would've done the same to him, open up his skull and scour through his thoughts, he'd be furious, scared, mortified.
But for Ghost, this must've been a daily occurrence, back in the lab that made him into what he is today.
"Hmm…" Gary's fingers fly over his keyboard, "I'm gonna run a query through your internal database, might make it hard for you to talk for a minute there."
"What is it going to d-d-d-d-d-" Ghost's voice glitches, getting stuck on the same syllable over and over.
New windows open themselves on Gary's computer, Gary's frown deepening, all the while Soap watches in horror as Ghost struggles to speak.
"Sanders-s-s-s-" Ghost grinds out, "do not go ther-r-r-r-"
Soap can't watch this anymore, "Gary, isn't this enough?!"
Gary doesn't seem to hear him, "you were hiding quite a lot from me, haven't you… So many error codes, missing reports to H.Q…."
Ghost shudders, the vents at his side opening wider to allow the visibly steaming air out.
"Oh, interesting." Gary remarks, "tell me what happened today. This is an order."
Flashes of Ghost straddling an unmoving corpse, blade stabbing at it again and again, pass by Soap's vision. The growls emanating from under the steel skull on his face, his real voice scratchy and choppy. The fear, that chases Ghost everywhere, that shines brighter than any emotion he has displayed since he began remembering how to.
The way he didn't want to tell Soap what happened, and despite his own mind begging to know, if only to dissuade it from worrying, Soap would not force it out of him.
Gary doesn't have such qualms.
Unable to disobey a direct order yet, Ghost answers.
"Enemy sighted in Mexico, location 28°29′30.32″N 100°55′10.19″W. Human."
"Human?" Gaz mutters to himself, reflecting Soap's own questions.
"Who did you see?" Gary asks, fingers halting their incessant typing.
A low clicking sound fills the room, at odds with the mechanical ambiance of Ghost and Gary's computer. Soap realises what they are instantly.
Teeth.
Impatient, Gary asks again, "Who did you see, Ghost, this is an order-"
"ROBA." Ghost's speakers let out, just as a growl claws out of his throat.
Any more of this, and Ghost may fall into the same trance that took over him in the quest. Soap springs forth, taking hold of the wires attaching Gary to Ghost's inner parts, intending to disconnect them lest this room becomes a battlefield.
Before he can yank it loose, Gary types, "don't!"
"Why shouldn't I?!"
"His inhibitor is unstable! Only thing that's keeping him docile is the bloody connection!"
Ghost's arms shake, loosening his hold. Soap switches to grasping his shoulders, steadying him. "Ghost, yer alright, yer safe-!"
"1.86 metres tall, black hair, brown eyes, head of the Zaragoza Cartel-" Ghost's robotic voice recites, the gnashing of a hidden jaw constant. "Mission failed, captured, Captain Sparks, dead, Lieutenant Washington, dead, Major Vernon-" another deep growl cuts him off.
Soap turns to shout at Gary, "ye can't do anything to help him?!"
"I never saw anything like this happen!" Gary says, a look of newfound horror spreading on his face.
Gaz flinches as Ghost's head move erratically, twitching towards sounds they can't hear, "can't you- I don't know, surge him with Aetherium?"
"This isn't a bloody disciple attack, Garrick!" Gary retorts.
Ghost's shoulders hike abruptly, pushing Soap back. He teeters, the lights laced across his metal plates blinking wildly.
And all at once, shut down, Ghost growing lax.
Soap's breath stutters, "G-Ghost?" He whispers.
Ghost doesn't react, even the scraping of teeth against metal gone. Soap hazards a touch, a little shake to his shoulder, and received nothing in return.
"Soap," Gaz says, pointing at the computer, "look."
Darkness flashes across the screen, a grating static accompanying as it shifts. Lines become shapes become faces, and a picture draws itself with light.
"What… What is this, Gary?"
"I don't-"
"English," a man opens the door to the room, a knife in his hand. The image is in sharp black and white, but even then Soap can tell the blade is bloodied, "did you miss me?"
Whoever the man is talking to doesn't respond, instead lowering their gaze to stare at their feet. They're bound to a chair, scars and open wounds criss-crossing on pale skin. The image melts, static growing louder, as the knife begins dragging on their left thigh.
The next scene pulls a gasp out of Soap. A corpse, badly decayed, lit by a small flame. A hand slides into the mouth of the body, pulling down, again and again, until it snaps. And then, their view turns, a wooden wall blocking every angle. The image glitches as the jaw is slammed into one, picture breaking into lines of code as the hand hits the wood.
The next thing they see is the sky, stars shining brightly above. There's a breathing in his ears, heavy and loud, and Soap realises whoever it is, they're crying.
It tugs at his heart, the anguish of those sobs, one that can only be born of great pain, great loss.
He leans closer to the screen, as if he could reach a hand, comfort them.
A pop jolts him, the room plunging into darkness. He hears someone shuffle behind him, and a few moments pass before the light returns.
Blinking away the spots dancing by his vision as the bright lights blind him, Soap finds Gary out of his chair, next to a breaker box. He grabs his keyboard, left on his desk, to type, "what the fuck."
"That couldn't have been what I think it is... Right?" Gaz mutters with uncertainty. "We didn't just watch someone break out of a grave…"
"It wasn't just someone…" Soap presses his hand into Ghost's shoulder, feeling the light ticking of his mechanic organs, beating and keeping him alive. He needs the reminder, that he is alive. "Those were memories - Ghost's memories."
"How can you tell-"
"He said he was captured. And that man, the one with the knife, that must've been Roba."
A startle passes through Ghost's body at the name, weak snarl cutting itself off before it could fully form.
Gaz lowers his gaze, brows furrowing with thought, "was that why he reacted like that in Mexico? When Captain Vargas told us of the buried zombies. It makes sense…"
"How could a person do such thing to another human…" Soap lets out through gritted teeth, attempting to wake ghost with gentle shakes.
"People still kill other people, Soap. The world outside of the Orders isn't all that pretty." Gary says, a grim expression unfitting for his features over his face.
The lights on Ghost's body blink brighter, whirring sounds strengthening as his sensors come to life. His passing into consciousness is not smooth, a stutter to his limbs as he begins moving once more. His eyes find Soap, and stay there for long moments, their shape lost as the lights around his skull plate settle into their usual bright glow.
Soap knows he's back into full awareness when a quick hand finds the wire still connecting him to Gary's computer, and unceremoniously detaches it.
"What did you do to me." Ghost demands, any softness in his voice eradicated.
"I wish I fucking knew," Gary types one-handed, the other reaching for his mouse, scouring the code that Ghost's memories left half-burnt into the screen, "that was… Incredible."
Incredible wouldn't be the word he'd use to describe it, Soap thinks. Terrifying, heartbreaking, infuriating, all would be more suitable.
Ghost's arm swings down to slam on Gary's desk, only for it to stop inches from the wooden surface. The display of inhuman control of his own movements, never allowed to act according to his emotions, tugs at Soap's heart. "Explain, Sanderson."
Gary blows a puff of air, irritated, "I can only theorise, because again, as far as I know we never saw anything like this in your testing, but it looked like we were able to see your memories play out on my computer."
At Ghost's silence, he continues, "it's a shame I didn't record them, not that it's much use to us-"
"To you." Soap glares at him, and his fingers stop typing. He looks over Ghost, his still form unreadable, "how much- Did ye see those memories as well?"
"I did. They were the same I saw in Mexico."
The same things he refused to talk about with Soap, now pried open for all to see. Even the little he wants to keep to himself, he isn't allowed.
Soap didn't want to learn it this way, steal the memories from Ghost's mind. Guilt eats at him the more he thinks of it, and anger at the calmness at which Ghost accepts it. He should be shouting and kicking down walls, but he can't.
Gaz clears his throat, his expression frowned, "we do know a few things about who Ghost was, from this. Do you think it's enough to… Identify him?"
"We don't even know when he was born…" Soap mutters, reigning in his fury for now.
Gary's keyboard clicks loudly as he types, "about that…"
SYSTEM DIAGNOSTICS RUNNING… 74 ERRORS FOUND (35 IGNORED)
AETHERIUM INHIBITOR STATUS: CAUTION
CURRENT LOCATION: 52.056°N 2.716°W
CURRENT OBJECTIVE: AWAITING ORDERS
He could feel the knife drag across his thigh. Feel those hands grab at him, pull his skin open. Sense the coldness of Vernon's mouth, the resistance of the jaw until it gave.
Ghost didn't think he could still feel so much.
The flashes aren't forming a full picture in his mind yet, holes in time hiding their true meaning. What they do tell him, is that he went under the knife earlier than he first thought.
Soap said he believed the world before the Aether invaded was good. And from their perspective, it likely was better, no monsters to roam desolate cities. Humanity's worst threat was itself, and the only kind of war was a war among men.
Soap underestimated the evil a human being can inflict on another.
He's staring at him now, steely blue eyes never leaving his, full of rage and something he can't name. It frustrates him, because he knows he used to be able to tell one emotion from the other, feel more than the bursts of fear his regained memories leave him with.
The image of what he once was steps ever closer to him, and it taunts him. Slips between his metal fingers like the dirt of a grave.
Sanderson opens a file on his computer, the screen still half-burnt with afterimages of his frantic code. He lost his jovial demeanour when Ghost came back online, and it doesn't bother him in the slightest, unlike Gaz and Soap's.
"I got my hands on some of my grandpa's files," Sanderson begins, "some of them were in bad shape, half corrupted, but even a fraction of them is priceless, considering they're voice recordings."
Gaz's brows furrow deeper, "how do they relate to Ghost?"
Sanderson blinks, his mouth gaping for a moment, "you don't know who my grandfather is??"
"The infamous Jack Sanderson, founder of J.S. Systems, we don't give a rat's arse Gary." Soap grunts, short with him.
"As well as the lead researcher on the G.H.O.S.T. project, which was the reason J.S. Systems was founded in the first place." Gary glares at Soap, who opens his mouth to talk, only to be stopped by Gary's hand. "These logs are probably going to answer any questions you have better than me, considering these recordings come from someone that worked with my grandpa while the G.H.O.S.T. project was at its infancy."
Gary presses a button on his keyboard, and the room is filled with static, sentences half chopped and nearly illegible.
"Tests on the new Inhibitor systems are going- no reaction yet-"
The voice is of an adult, British man, and doesn't match any of the ones Ghost has in his database. His system continues analysing it, as the man says something that takes him off-guard.
"-Ghost, run system check!"
A second voice begins talking, a familiar mechanic cadence that Ghost is well-versed in. The accent doesn't match his, but the words are ones he's been trained to recite since he knew how to speak.
"Running system check… Inhibitor- Aetherium charge: 97%- no abnormal brain activity detected."
"That doesn't sound like our Ghost," Soap says, eyes narrowed at the screen.
Gary shushes him, "keep listening!"
"Haven't modified the voice yet- have to find- Manc accent- from Ghost, so I can tune-"
The recording pauses, Gary excitably looking at Soap, "Heard that? He said he's going to give Ghost a different accent!"
Gaz leans closer, "how do you know it's this Ghost, though? Aren't there many of them?"
Before Gary can answer, Ghost interjects, "not anymore. I'm the only one left."
He has vague memories of the others, from a time his system was still unrefined. The others never spoke, never moved by their own volition, and were no more than robots with decaying flesh as their core.
Ghost doesn't understand exactly what separates him from those others. Why he wasn't scrapped.
He doesn't feel too different to them, some days.
"Keep going." Soap presses his lips thin, hands gripping the desk. Gary obeys.
"I don't know when- clean him a bit, his mouth- on his jaw-"
"This part was badly corrupted, I can't tell what he's talking about towards the end." Gary comments as the recording glitches.
Soap exhales roughly, "who the fuck is this anyway?"
Gary shakes his head, "didn't find a recording with a name yet."
"never be- talk- brain functions- dreaming of- nice there."
The recording spits out a few more words, before fizzling out. Gary taps his fingers on the side of his keyboard, until he types, "to answer your question, Kyle, we don't know enough about Ghost yet to find out who he is, but there's a few clues this recording gives us."
"He's… Manc? Like, from Manchester?" Gaz says, "and… Something about his jaw needed cleaning?"
"He was also captured. In Mexico." Soap adds, features hardened, "said something about Lieutenants and Captains… Those are military terms, right?"
Gary nods, "we know one more thing, from the date of this recording. I honestly thought it was a mistake at first, but thinking about it, it lined up with what my grandpa told me."
pushing himself to the side, Gary points at his computer, the date reading 'APRIL 26TH, 2024'.
"Ghost must've been born before the Aether invaded Earth."
Excerpt from John "Soap" MacTavish's journal, page 93 ("ROBA"):