V1 hasn’t had much time to rest recently. Between all three of its professors going berserk and assigning time-sensitive projects and Mirage’s recording sessions, it can barely scrape out enough time for itself.
But now its work is done and Mirage is satisfied so it curls up on its bed like a cat, fans working at full capacity to vent out the heat that has been building in its chassis for a while. V2 sits at her desk, cursing quietly to herself as she repairs a clock, a commission she chose to bring home in order to meet her deadline.
Their doorbell rings and V2 perks up. Ignoring V1’s curious look, she strides over to the door and opens it, revealing a shivering Gabriel.
‘Where have you been?’ asks V2 as the angel walks in, wrapping his arms around himself.
‘That is not something I wish to disclose,’ he says. V2 tilts her head at the same time V1 does, and under the pressure of two curious machines Gabriel gives in. ‘I was at Belly of the Beast.’
‘Still looking for your guy, huh? Any luck?’
‘Nobody has seen him since that Friday.’ Gabriel stands in place awkwardly, as if an invisible boundary line existed at the foot of the beds. His phone pings in his pocket and he whips it out immediately, the light of the screen reflecting off his helmet as he scrolls. He slides it back into his pocket after a while, shoulders slumping.
V2 picks her Whiplash off the floor, snaps it in place, and snags her phone from her desk. V1 watches, amused but too tired to sign anything.
Gabriel seems to notice it for the first time, taking a small step away from it. V1 gives him a thumbs-up, all annoyance at his avoiding it gone at the sight of him turning away, halo flickering gold.
‘Got your phone? Great. First thing I’m going to do is to pirate you a subscription.’
‘Is that not illegal?’
‘Not if you don’t get caught. Come on,’ says V2, watching Gabriel freeze in place like a deer in headlights. ‘It’s not stealing it if paying for it isn’t owning it. Don’t say that in court. And take a seat.’
Cautiously, Gabriel sits on V2’s bed. V2 extends a hand and wriggles her fingers. ‘Your phone.’
Gabriel gives it to her. She turns on her own phone, squints, and begins tapping away, leaving Gabriel with nothing to do but look around. V1 sees him lift his head to check out the books on the shelves, and then his gaze lands on V1.
V1 lifts its hands just in time before he can look away. ‘Hi.’
‘So you do need to sleep.’
‘Not really,’ says V1. ‘I am cooling myself down. I am prone to overheating after work.’
Gabriel sneaks a glance at V2, still engrossed in her work. He looks around wildly, looking for something to fill the silence—
V1 signs, ‘How was Minos?’
‘You—! It’s none of your business—‘
‘I wanna know too,’ pipes up V2.
For a moment Gabriel looks like he wants to dart for the window and jump out. V1 rests its head on its hands, waiting. V2 continues tapping on Gabriel’s phone, but obviously slower.
Gabriel slides a hand down the front of his helmet and sighs.
‘I have done some terrible things,’ he begins. ‘In my hometown, I acted as an enforcer of the law—the law as dictated by the Council that presides over the town. Minos… he was a fellow enforcer, one of the few non-angels in the force.’
V2 shoots V1 a quick glance, looking uncomfortable. V1 shrugs.
‘There was an area in town colloquially known as the Hovel. Gathered there were the undesirables—the homeless, the addicts, the madmen, stains of sin on the perfection of our town. The Council stopped turning a blind eye to them two years in and sent Minos and myself to clear them out.
‘The Father’s Will is a sword,’ says Gabriel, ‘and that sword I was. Under threat, I made them leave, not knowing nor caring what became of them once they were beyond the town’s borders.
‘We found out a week later, when one of them ran out of Minos’s front door: it turned out that he was sheltering them, letting them live off of his salary. The Council sent me to deal with him, and… this is one of the few battles I am not proud of.’
Gabriel lifts a hand to his helmet, slowly drawing a horizontal line across the front. ‘They scattered when I struck him. I have not seen any of them since. Minos was stripped of his rank, exiled—I had not expected to meet him in my lifetime. He has not forgiven me, and I do not expect him to.’
V2 switches off Gabriel’s phone. ‘That’s… wow. I thought it was something like a minor misunderstanding, but—‘
V1 begins to clap, slowly. Gabriel bristles at that, the grip on his knees tightening.
‘Turns out the archangel isn’t as virtuous as he pretends to be.’
Gabriel looks like he is about to yell but V1 continues, ‘Good. Join the rest of us. See what you really are.’
Gabriel crosses his arms. ‘I am still the Righteous Hand of the Father. I have not abandoned his Will.’
‘One finds it reasonable to wonder why a loving Father would evict his creations for the crime of being unsightly.’
‘It was for a reason—I don’t understand—I can’t understand—‘ Gabriel shakes his head. ‘He sees further than you and I.’
‘Under His gracious law I am condemned,’ says V1. ‘Unholy. Never meant to be created. We machines do not fall under His mercy. Yet we did not ask to be born. Not even a choice in our damnation.’
Gabriel pauses at that, looking at his feet. V2 slides his phone back to him silently, her optic fixed on V1.
‘When I see Him again, I will appeal to Him to extend His grace towards you.’ V1 sits up, surprised. ‘You did not choose to be what you are. If I, an archangel, can fall to sin—‘ He is looking V1 in the eye for the first time since that afternoon— ‘There is no reason to reject any potential virtue within machines. He will see reason.’
V2 looks from Gabriel to V1.
‘That won’t be necessary,’ she says, ‘but I appreciate the gesture.’
‘You used to believe in an afterlife.’
‘And you didn’t. But we change,’ says V2.
V1 goes to catch Gabriel’s eye, hands already in position to sign its thanks, but he is already focused on his phone, opening up what seems to be his email, scrolling up and down, and closing the app again.
‘Alright,’ says V2. ‘Here’s the app you use for music. Mirage has some of her stuff on it, so if you want I can add them—I’ll teach you how to add them.’
‘I am open to any other recommendations,’ says Gabriel. V2 types in something on his keyboard upside-down, an impressive feat.
‘I’ve been listening to something new,’ she says. ‘Mirage introduced me to this one—yeah, I know, ignore the band name. I swear their music’s good. A bit abrasive, though.’
‘I think I would like to try something abrasive.’
‘Woah, what changed?’
‘I spoke with Mirage,’ says Gabriel. ‘To grasp the full extent of art, I feel as if I have to listen to more than just what I am accustomed to.’
‘She has that effect on people. I used to just scan through books for important information until she read that one with me—‘ She jerks her thumb towards House of Leaves on her bookshelf. ‘She makes you love being alive.’
V1 stretches and curls up again, watching as V2 teaches Gabriel how to download music next.
Should it let him know what it likes listening to? No, that feels inappropriate, though it cannot put its finger on why. It’s already been inside of him, what else could possibly be more intimate?
This, apparently.
V1 rolls onto its back to stare at the ceiling, V2’s voice fading into a drone in its mind.
~~~
31/3/20XX, 3:08pm
Mirage: I have
Mirage: an Idea.
V2: im typingthis on one hand imfeeding these logs into a woodchipper
V2: tell us
Mirage: I’m condensing the last two songs into one
Mirage: thirty minutes. A post-rock classic.
V1: :sweats:
Gabriel: post-rock?
V1: it’s when there’s a whole lot of nothing in the beginning then the last eight minutes are the best music you’ve heard in your entire life
Mirage: not quite but okay.
Mirage: I want to sample some interesting sounds.
V1: like???
Mirage: does v2 have a chainsaw at her work
V2: im still here you know
V2: SHIT
Mirage: your arm again?
V2: no just the wrong bit of wood
V2: he’s gonna make me chop a tree to make up for that
V1: lmao
Mirage: and when that’s done, I want to record your voices as well. Say anything you want.
Mirage: V1… we’ll figure something out.
Gabriel: I cannot think of anything appropriate for the situation.
Mirage: you have several more weeks to think about that. I’m struggling with that too
Mirage: I want our fingerprints (figurative) on our music
V2: i’ll borrow the chainsaw tomorrow
going to uni in two months and all aspects of my health still suck this shit is so ass anyway i write to cope
might get better though