#12: Belated
(AKA Taylor Realizes She Missed One)
"Okay, so let me get this straight," I began slowly. At this point, despite the absurdity and nonsensical things I've seen up until now, Blood Gulch still finds ways to shock me. "Caboose's mind has, in your words, fucked up versions of us. Tucker was obsessed with eating food and sniffing butts…"
The aqua-colored soldier was no doubt giving the blissfully ignorant Caboose a harsh glare under his helmet. "Really, dude?"
"You were apparently his best friend and a raging asshole… For the record, minus the best friend part, you
do realize you're an asshole, right?"
"That sounds like a nightmare to me," Tucker chimed in. "I mean, two of Church in the same room? Total disaster waiting to happen. Ooh, wait, if there were two of you, which ass was Caboose kissing?"
"Neither, he acted like he was the smartest person in the whole damn room," Church grumbled irritably. He'd been in a foul mood ever since he came back from getting rid of Omega. "And after Omega killed him, Caboose pretty much forgot all about me."
Ah, so that explains why Caboose didn't recognize him and kept calling him different names. "Was that all that happened?" I asked partly out of suspicion. Even if Caboose's mental image of Church was gone, that didn't really explain his new…dimwittedness?
"What do you mean?"
"She means Caboose is acting stupider than normal."
"Probably Omega, then." I narrowed my eyes at his quick deflection, making a mental note to drag the answer out of him when this was over. "Anyway, the only semi-normal one in his head was Hebert."
Tucker leaned in curiously. "You mean, same old same old?"
"Eh, sort of. She insisted we called her 'mother' or she'd bend us over her knee and start smacking our asses."
"Bow-chicka-"
"
Lavernius Tucker," I snarled a la Sopha Hess. "Finish that sentence, and so help me, I
will shove that sniper rifle up your ass."
"Okay, okay! Tooouchy…"
I gritted my teeth, closed my eyes, and slowly counted upwards from ten. I couldn't lash out, it was bad for my health. My…
current predicament aside, for better or worse, these guys were my superiors. I was pushing my luck as is, and I really did not want to see what their idea of retribution was.
…though I suppose it would be something stupid, like everything else in this god-forsaken canyon.
"So, where's Tex in all this?"
"Fuck if I know," Church groaned. "I tried to find her after I jumped out of Caboose, but I couldn't find her anywhere! It's like she just upped and vanished.
Again." That explained why he was in a foul mood. "Where the hell could she have gone…?"
"It took you a while to come back, maybe it's the same for her? Plus, you
were in Caboose's head for a while," Tucker pointed out to him. "Anyway, at least that A.I. is gone. I guess that just leaves the Reds."
"I guess…"
"If that's all, I'm going to check up on Caboose."
Church waved me off, his ghost form flickering as he went about somewhere. Tucker moved on back inside the base to do
something. Having spent a month in the base getting to know him and Church, I wisely decided it was better
not to get involved with whatever the hell he was up to. I made that mistake one too many times.
Caboose just stood there by the base wall, shifting from foot to foot and humming a tune. It sounded familiar, almost like… No, that can't be. I didn't sing it often or around him. "Hey, Caboose."
"Hi, Mom!" Caboose said happily.
"For the last time, I'm…" I sighed in defeat. This place took so much out of me, it was a miracle I could even muster the strength to get angry at Church for his stupid fucking antics. "I'm never going to get you to stop calling me that, am I?" The blue-armored manchild just stared at me. I had the vaguest sense he looked like a lost little puppy. "I'm never going to get you to stop calling me that, am I?"
"Probably not."
"…alright, fine. Guess I'll have to get used to hearing that until I find a way out of here." Being called mom at the age of 15. What would Dad…
Dad…
I grimaced, grateful my helmet hid my expression from others. I haven't been thinking much about him, so caught up in everything happening around me. At first, I thought about whether there were any alternate versions of him here, but…there wasn't. Vic told me after my first week or so here that there
was no Daniel Hebert. There wasn't even an Annette Hebert here, either. It was just me, all by my lonesome. When Vic told me that, I… I felt like my world just collapsed in on itself.
I felt so alone. And I hated it. I hated every minute of that miserable feeling.
And yet…
Does Dad even care I'm gone?
That treacherous thought was always there, lurking somewhere in the back of my head. Ever since mom died, our relationship was distant. He barely even noticed the bullying, only seeing the blotchy stains on my clothes and how many notebooks and backpacks I went through. I knew on some level that distance was my fault; I never told him what happened between me and Emma or anything about the bullying because I thought he couldn't do anything about it. Worse, I thought he might be like the rest of the adults in my life and call me a liar or just look at me with apathy.
That image went against everything I knew and love about Dad, but no matter how hard I try, it's always there. I want to believe Dad is looking for me. I want to believe he still cares…
"Are you okay?"
I don't realize how wet my cheeks are until Caboose's words reach my ears. God, how pathetic was I? "I'm okay," I lied. "I-I don't think the helmet is sealed right. There's dust floating around in my helmet."
"Are you sure? You don't look okay."
"I'm fine, really. It's… It's sweet of you, though. I'm going to check and see what's up with Sheila and Lopez, see how they're doing. Don't do anything weird while I'm gone, okay?"
"Okay!"
God, he acts like such a puppy. It was adorable, almost.
Sheila was parked on the other side of the base, with Lopez doing what I thought was maintenance since her chassis was open and her metal, wired innards were exposed to the elements. The robot was humming something, head bobbing and feet tapping.
"Hey, you two," I greeted and waved as I approached. "Everything okay over here?"
Lopez gave a non-committal grunt, not stopping his hands whatsoever. Sheila was more forthcoming. "Hello, Recruit Hebert!" the tank said cheerily. "Lopez and I are doing fine, thank you for asking. He is currently repairing my motor functions. I sustained some light damage after we assaulted Red Base."
Saying we assaulted them was overstating things, considering all we did was run up to them, yell at them to shut off their radios, and then blast them with god-awful Mexican music. I repressed the "recording session" to the best of my ability. There are some things no human should see. The only good thing I had to say about it was the strange, completely out-of-nowhere dance number Tucker pulled mid-show.
He was quite good, surprisingly. Better than most professional dancers I saw on YouTube, anyway.
"And you're completely fine?" I asked out of concern. I couldn't shake this feeling that
something was wrong. "No…software glitches or anything like that? No strange, sudden urge to go SkyNet on us?"
"Oh no, perish the thought. My subroutines explicitly forbid me from watching or replicating the behavior exhibited by homicidal artificial intelligence in any form of media. To answer your question, Recruit Hebert—"
"Just, um, call me Taylor. Hearing you call me by my last name feels really weird."
Sheila bobbed her turret. "Acknowledged. Changing user designation to [TAYLOR]. To answer your question, Taylor, Lopez and I have yet to notice any changes in behavior." The tank paused as if in thought. "Caboose's personality, however, seems to have changed slightly since our return to Blue Base."
"Yeah, we're just gonna blame Church for that one," I shook my head. "So, how are you two feeling?"
"As I said, we—"
I waved my hands. "I mean, how are you two doing? Like, are you bored and want to do something? Want to talk about anything?"
"Nothing comes to mind… No, there
is something that bothers me. It concerns Private Church and Private Tucker."
"What about them?"
"I do not feel they appreciate us."
I blinked in surprise. I mean, given how she's been acting up to this point, I knew Sheila must have a sophisticated A.I. or something, but it was still shocking to hear her express such emotion. It was harder to tell with Lopez, what with his robotic monotone and all, but he at least had body language…stiff as it was to read or understand. He was a robot, yes, but it still amazed me how far technology came. And so far, there was no sign or hint of cape involvement. This was just normal human engineering.
I wondered whether Earth Bet would ever reach this level before answering Sheila's concerns. "How do you mean? Like, you think they don't value your efforts more?" I honestly failed to see why. On the one hand, yes, I can understand where Tucker and Church might be concerned. A.I. or no, Sheila is a tank. Tanks are used to gun down opposition. On the other hand, her A.I. was very much human. "I fail to see how. You've blown up Red Team's car so many times now…"
"Church still holds a grudge against me for killing him," Sheila bemoaned.
…oh, right. There was that stupid thing, wasn't there? I still refuse to believe Church is a ghost until proven otherwise.
"…correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't Caboose piloting you when Church…you know…?"
"He was. However, Private Church's death is also my responsibility as I disabled friendly fire." Sheila hummed thoughtfully. "I still don't quite understand why that function was disabled. I know someone fiddled with my settings, but my logs from that time are strangely incomplete. I suspect my memory bank was damaged after Red Base's bombardment left me inoperable."
"Wait, you were sabotaged?" Okay, that was pretty important. Who could have messed with Sheila's settings? Could it have been someone from Red Base? Was it Simmons? He struck me as the resident 'tech guy' of Red Team. "By who? No, wait, you just said your memory was damaged. Fuck." I looked at Lopez. "Did anyone from your team mess with Sheila's settings?"
Lopez leaned back, arms stained in grease and black and brown fluids. I sighed as he spoke, reminded of the fact that I still knew zilch about Spanish. "…right, I forgot. You don't speak English. Hang on, let me call Vic…"
It was a miracle how he hadn't gotten tired of me given how often I called him. Seriously, I asked about the most mundane of things, especially regarding my exams… Oh, right. I still need to look into my medical license. Lord only knows those blue morons will just go back to using duct tape.
"Actually," Sheial said suddenly. "If you'd like, Taylor, I can act as Lopez's interpretor."
"You can?!" I grinned under my helmet. "You know Spanish? Oh, thank you so much, Sheila."
"It is my pleasure. Thanks to Rosetta Stone Translation application, I instantly know every foreign human language ever spoken! Sadly, I have no records for alien tongues."
A pregnant silence ensued following her words. A tumbleweed rolled past our feet.
"Hay mucho viento," Lopez commented, ignorant of the twitching eyebrow and throbbing vein on my forehead as I processed that
absurd fucking statement.
"…Rosetta Stone," I said in forced calm. "You're installed with Rosetta Stone."
"Yes," Sheila affirmed. "It is standard issue software installation for all smart A.I. …is that a problem?"
I just stared at the tank for a few seconds before dragging a hand down the visor. That bubbling fury was rising to the surface.
Advanced tech, aliens, honest to god space marines, I thought irritably.
And even though fucking google is apparently out of style, a fucking tank is the only thing in this motherfucking canyon with a TRANSLATOR! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!?!
WHY DOES NOTHING IN THIS CANYON MAKE ANY GODDAMN SENSE?!
The angry female is getting angry again, Lopez thought.
Ever since his "defection" to the Blue Team meatbags, the robot came to understand the similarities between them and his creators and former masters. They were all idiots, for starters. A step-up from the usual idiocy, but not by a large margin. The aqua meatbag was a raging pervert, the default-blue meatbag was a moron, the cyan meatbag annoying and foul-mouthed, and the pacific-blue meatbag… Okay, Lopez couldn't classify her as such. Not when she was actually trying to communicate with him instead of guessing what he was saying.
After Sarge installed the speech unit, the Red Team meatbags kept trying to figure out what he was saying without even actually
trying to understand the language. He did ponder whether to install a software patch and switch to English, but thought otherwise when he realized it would serve no purpose and he was given no orders to do so at the time. It was probably for the best, now that Lopez realized it. Conversing with those morons would just degrade his circuits.
The pacific-blue meatbag…Taylor, he remembered. She did not understand the language of Spanish, but she at least had the decency to ask for help in translating him. She was also surprisingly thoughtful, actually asking him how he was doing and if he needed help with anything. Lopez wished she was in Red Team when he was commissioned, if only because she would've made everything more bearable.
The only negative he could say about Private Hebert, Taylor was that she had bottled-up anger. A
lot of bottled-up anger. She did her best to suppress it, but he could tell by her body language and shaking hands she was inches away from popping a gasket.
Lopez did not blame her in the least, given what he had to work with.
"For sure, you're really okay?" Taylor asked him kindly. "I mean, after that misunderstanding with Sarge…"
The robot whirred his circuits in mild irritation. Truthfully, he had been disappointed and heartbroken when his creator mistook him for a Blue and attempted to run him down. Now, he realized, he was quite glad to be rid of him. While Sarge gave him entertaining tasks, such as punishing the stupid orange sack of shit named Dexter Grif, he was the worst sort of master to have, not to mention a moron.
Duct tape was not the answer to everything. Duct tape was weak, and in his mechanical, professional opinion, stupid. Gorilla tape was far superior.
"I am fine," Lopez told her, his words translated by Sheila. "My only complaint is Blue Base's sore lack of proper work materials. I had barely any to work with when I brought Sheila back online!"
"Not surprising," Taylor sighed. "I'll see about contacting Vic and requesting supplies. I need to talk to him anyway about my next exam…"
The robot grew curious. "Your Command operator is named Vic as well?"
"As well? Wait, you mean your guys' rep is also a guy named Vic?"
"Yes. He is very annoying." At least based on what he heard from Sarge's frequent transmissions with Command. How that idiot got a job at Command, Lopez had no idea.
"I see… That's a weird coincidence," she muttered under her breathe. She shook her head, gathered on herself, and shifted ever so slightly. "If there's anything you need, let me know, okay? I'm glad neither of you guys got hijacked by Omega."
"It is very fortunate, yes," Sheila concurred. "Hopefully, our efforts to remove him were successful."
"Unless one of the Reds had their radios still on, it should be gone, I think. All five of them shut off their radios, right?"
"Four," Lopez corrected her. "I found only four vital signs in Red Base."
For some reason, Taylor grew alarmed. "Wait, only four? But that's…" Her tone took on a more dreadful tone. "Lopez… Who was in Red base when we got there?"
"Including my creator, there was only Grif, Simmons, and Donut. Four in total."
Lopez got the distinct impression Taylor lost all color in her face. She turned on her heel and ran back towards the base, screaming for Church. The robot looked at his armored crush in confusion. "What was that?"
"Beats me," Sheila replied. "Humans are surprisingly hard to understand…"
I was aiming for 6k words with this, believe it or not. I wanted to involve a confrontation with O'Malley proper...but I decided that in itself, plus other butterflies, deserves to be featured in its own chapter. That decision is partially why this chapter took so long. The other reason is a growing lack of motivation. My muse is starting to run dry, and THERE ARE TOO MANY DAMN VIDEO GAMES COMING OUT! First there's Sonic Frontiers, and then there's God of War: Ragnarok! It really doesn't help I finally got my hands on Sifu, a game I've been dying to play for months.
IRL sucks ass, man.
Anyway, this chapter showcases the first real deviation, though honestly, it's quite minor compared to what I have planned later. And I do mean, later. In the early seasons like BGC, there's not much for Taylor to influence and change beyond how she interacts with certain characters. Now, the Recollection trilogy is slightly different in that regard. You'll understand when and if we ever reach that point.
That's it for now. Cheers everyone.
You guys know the shill by now.
