Work Text:
Can you come to the Argument Lounge?
Ratthi paused in his reading of Claws of Fate and Frenzy, checked the time, and raised his eyebrows. It was late enough that he’d half expected one of SecUnit’s admittedly useful Humans need their rest periods reminders to pop up in his feed (although not so late to warrant a Go the fuck to sleep, Ratthi). SecUnit actually wanting him up was definitely not the norm.
He hurriedly sent back a Yes! I’ll be right there and scrambled off his bed, fumbling for the cabinet housing his night slippers. Any hints about the topic this time? SecUnit had tagged its message as low priority and time-sensitive, which likely meant one thing: Ratthi had been called upon to serve as a media mediator (media2tor?) for an aptly-named argucussion.
A response dropped into his feed just as Ratthi finished donning his footwear. You’ll find out soon enough. He grinned, sending a flurry of excited reactions in return.
Suspicious silence greeted him as he padded through the hallway, the lights along the walls brightening at his step to better illuminate the path ahead. Ratthi whispered a quick thanks to Perihelion, then took a moment to jot down notes in the feed for Claws of Fate and Frenzy. The writing style so far hadn’t piqued his interest, but the historical romance-horror-tragedy had been selected by Overse as the shipwide book club’s current read, so Ratthi did want to at least finish before making a judgment call.
It felt a bit frivolous to admit it, but in the time that had passed travelling with Perihelion’s crew, Ratthi found himself longing for the musicals, plays, concerts, and numerous other shows he’d enticed his friends into attending back home. In their absence, he’d gotten even more involved than usual in activities like their book club discussions, watch parties, collaborative story-driven games, group dance sessions, and the occasional private bouzouki recital he’d coaxed out of a stage-shy Tarik. Perihelion did have a sizable library to peruse in addition to SecUnit’s own collection, but, well. There was something special about live performances and the positive feedback loop between artist rendition and audience reaction; how cheers and laughter, gasps and tears heightened the energy on stage to create a certain kind of magic that he missed. (He’d heard whispers of talent shows put on from years back. Ratthi was determined, during this trip, to organize another.)
He stepped through an entryway into a space lit from floor level by a deep violet that bled up the walls. Empty couches and tables cast long shadows throughout the Argument Lounge. It was eerie. (Maybe he’d been reading too much romance-horror-tragedy.)
"...Hello?" Out of habit, Ratthi scanned the room for SecUnit’s drones and found it difficult to make out signs of movement in the shadows. Maybe he’d missed a drone monitoring the corridor? Unable to shake that strange feeling, he turned to glance behind him.
And yelped when a dark shape blotted out his vision up top. It was large and long-limbed like the creature from Claws of Fate and Frenzy, melting out of the void.
Then the lights brightened and ohhhh, that was just SecUnit. Crouching up there. In the corner of the ceiling.
Okay, Ratthi wasn’t entirely sure how it was doing that, but there it was, splayed fingers and boots firmly planted on adjacent walls, poised with a stillness no human could match. "Uh, SecUnit?" He rubbed his eyes and squinted again in the general direction of the corner, about to ask how it had gotten up there and why, then promptly closed his mouth when SecUnit actually looked at him. And it flicked its head sharply so the hood of its jacket flopped over, obscuring half of its face.
And—ohhh of course. That pose. The hooded face. The purple lighting. An excited noise escaped Ratthi’s mouth unbidden as he exclaimed, "This is that scene! Asteroid Nine, right before the time agent’s sworn nemesis pulls off a daring escape. An unprecedented prisoner breakout from the top-secret facility located deep within an iron volcano!" He had watched the premiere as a university student and raved about it for days (okay, years) afterwards. This particular scene was known for its unique camerawork that required dozens of takes to pass muster. And SecUnit had just done the exact same stunt, rigging optional. Ratthi couldn’t tell it in so many words that it was so cool lest it wither away from embarrassment, so instead he punched the air, letting out a soft whoop.
The corner of SecUnit’s mouth ticked upwards.
Then the lights in the Argument Lounge flickered in what was possibly Perihelion’s equivalent of a sniff. And so, unlike what happens in Asteroid Nine, you were spotted. The scene is unrealistic.
SecUnit pushed off the wall, executing an unnecessary number of flips in the air (just like in the film, wow) and landing with a sound softer than Ratthi’s own fuzzy-slippered footsteps. "Maybe for humans it is," it said, walking past an open-mouthed Ratthi while multiple drones stationed at various points throughout the Argument Lounge (ah, so he had missed them in the dark) resumed their circling above. It added, "I’ve trained Ratthi to look for my drones and he still took seven seconds after entering the room to notice me. That’s seven seconds too late."
That was not the original question.
"Hold on, catch me up here!" Ratthi interjected, following SecUnit to the largest couch. He leaned against one armrest as it tossed itself sideways over the other, legs dangling off the edge. Propping up his chin with one hand, he asked, "Are we trying to determine the feasibility of the scene, or actually figuring out if you can use this in your security work?"
A drone trailed over and settled near his face. "Why not both." Ratthi blinked as a file titled "Stupid Shit SecUnit Has Done" courtesy of Perihelion, video footage courtesy of SecUnit, and scenario analysis reports courtesy of both were simultaneously dumped into his feed. Unable to resist, he immediately opened the video footage first and was met with multiple shots from several angles, one of which included a closeup of Ratthi himself—sleep shorts and all—entering the Argument Lounge. (Did he really flail his arms like that in reaction to seeing SecUnit up on the wall? Oops.)
And the shot of SecUnit effortlessly somersaulting from the ceiling—a hooded figure backlit by monochrome color, spinning so fast it was like a sped-up edit? Incredible. Waving his arms, he enthused, "This looks so good! Ugh, if I review these files right now I’m going to be up excited all night so maybe I’ll just skim these later…" It was really hard not to get distracted by the video footage. Ratthi shook his head and continued, "So, our real-life scenario didn’t quite match what happens in Asteroid Nine. And assuming your analysis backs up your point, SecUnit—yeah, seven seconds is plenty to do damage with how fast you move. But there has to be a less risky way to hide yourself when sneaking into a building, right?"
"I’m still keeping it within my list of possibilities." SecUnit shifted and swung its boots onto the nearby table.
The lights flickered again. Throwing yourself at a hostile from high ground cannot be your go-to tactic.
"It absolutely can if it works."
You are also implying that the average human stationed to work in a top-secret facility will be less observant than Dr. Ratthi, who is known for his lack of situational awareness and yet still noticed you.
"Hey!" Ratthi’s head shot up in indignation. "Look, I’ve gotten better—SecUnit, back me up!" SecUnit dropped a file titled "Ratthi’s Greatest Hits" into the feed. "That’s not fair at all, the mud pit was forever ago!"
Perihelion’s amusement reverberated through the feed. My point still stands.
And for a while, time was forgotten as Ratthi, along with his fellow media enthusiasts, descended further into their argucussion of the night.
Even if the coat hood was heat resistant enough to withstand temperatures inside an iron volcano, the time agent’s sworn nemesis should have still sustained critical burns on the exposed lower half of their face.
"Huh. Did the time agent’s sworn nemesis by any chance have an indestructible chin?"
Not according to the film. The chin begins bleeding eighteen minutes later, when the time agent punches their sworn nemesis.
"Right, how could I have forgotten?"
"That’s why the escape plan should have been carried out by a SecUnit. I would’ve handled that temperature fine."
Your organics are susceptible to extreme heat as well.
"I said fine, not undamaged."
"SecUnit!"
The sequel was a poorly executed attempt to leverage the success of its predecessor.
"Look. Is Asteroid 1010, by most measures of judging a film, terrible? Yes. Do I love it anyway, because the cast acted their hearts out and the crew fought tooth and nail to scrap something together in the face of budget cuts and director departures, and also because I have fond memories of drunkenly yelling at the screen with my friends during our annual rewatches? Also yes. You will not convince me otherwise. Both of you are invited to the next rewatch, by the way."
"Asteroid 1011 was worse. The entire plot of that movie rested on humans being absolute idiots."
"More than the usual level of human idiocy, you mean? Yeah, I’ll give you that. You could tell they were running out of ideas in that one.
…And now I’m curious how you would’ve done things differently."
"I’m sending you a list in chronological order."
I added annotations.
"Can you edit my shorts to be something more stylish?"
"No."
I replaced it with the crew uniform. Does that suffice?
"That works great, thanks! …Oh wow, you made it look like the nice one you designed for SecUnit! Very cool."
"…"
Of course, both machine intelligences immediately noticed when Ratthi suppressed a yawn.
Your eyeblink frequency has increased by thirty-two percent within the past five minutes, Perihelion said. It switched the Argument Lounge’s lighting from harsh violet to glowing amber, mirroring the setting Ratthi used in his room at night. SecUnit’s drones swiveled towards him, too; faced with crushing judgment from all directions, he gave the nearest drone a sheepish grin.
"Yes, I know, okay! Bedtime for me." Ratthi stretched his arms, stood upright, and headed towards the doorway out of the Argument Lounge. It was getting quite late, so better to sleep soon and take the morning to go over the files he’d received earlier. (Claws of Fate and Frenzy could wait.) The video footage of SecUnit somersaulting popped in his head again, and—huh. On second thought, it was missing one important, iconic move.
Turning towards the room once more, Ratthi announced, "Before I forget! I leave you two with this"—and he knelt on one knee, one hand braced against the floor in a fist, the other flung straight out behind him and then brought, with a flourish, to his face to throw back an imaginary hood—"landing pose SecUnit forgot to do." (He hoped it was an accurate rendition, sleep shorts and slippers notwithstanding.)
There was a brief pause, presumably long enough for a construct to analyze a film clip for scene recreation purposes while also reflecting on how silly its humans were. Then SecUnit snorted and said, "If you don’t get a full rest period, I’m not sending you the new footage."
Ratthi laughed. "That’s a promise!"
Good night, Dr. Ratthi.
Later, before dozing off, Ratthi thought about how he’d—in a way—first found common ground with SecUnit through a calculated comment about Sanctuary Moon; how SecUnit, through its shows, had explored its personhood before it even thought of itself as—was allowed to be—a person; how it had used its understanding of media in one breath to save so many lives in so many ways it’d lost count, in another to argue—to savor—to comfort—to connect—
—and, well. After a night like this, creating their own moments in a story still being told? Yeah, the magic he’d been missing had been here all along.
When SecUnit dropped the video—landing pose included—in the feed the following morning, its drone hovered close to capture the entirety of Ratthi’s delight.