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An abandoned church became their new place of refuge for the time being. Even with parts of the roof caving in and rotting wooden pews, it’s enough. Androids don’t need much anyway, just a place to stay. That’s not to say they don’t want more than this dingy empty house of God.
Their numbers don’t even crowd the space in the nave. There should be more of them, three hundred and fifty-seven more, to be exact.
In the dark, the androids' LEDs look like fireflies, all stuck flickering yellow. Everyone constantly shifts their weight from side to side, looking over their shoulder. Those who can help haul whatever has been salvaged from the freighter. Some smaller Cyberlife crates get brought in but are quickly discovered to be empty.
The wounded lay on the ground, covered in debris. They blankly stare up at the faded and chipped mural on the ceiling. With nothing to spare, the number of survivors goes down steadily.
Markus has been sitting at the front of the nave. The altar is gone, but the floorboards still hold an imprint from where it used to be. Hunched over, he looks at the empty place and tries reconstructing what it must have once looked like. Markus knows it’s pointless to do so, but he needs a distraction from what he holds in his hands and their situation as a whole.
North sits amongst their people in the pews. She isn’t talking to anyone. She isn’t doing anything, just sitting and looking ahead with sunken eyes ringed blue. Occasionally her eyes flick toward she Markus, but not for long.
Josh leans against a wall towards the back of the church where the injured lay. His hands are covered in thirium, and so is his shirt. He sighs to himself and wipes his arm across his forehead. He then knees back down on the ground and in front of an android that has shut down.
Connor is hidden in a corner, curled in on himself. It’s easy to mistake him for a shadow with how dark he’s dressed. Then there’s Kara and the little one, leaning against each other in the pews. She holds the girl's hand.
The ground they are on may be sacred, but it does not feel holy.
Simon is on the right near the front of the nave, sitting on top of wooden crates. He bows his head toward clasped hands. He keeps his eyes closed.
Simon isn’t the type to believe in fate; or to pray to God, RA9, whoever or whatever. And yet, here he is now in prayer.
His old keepers used to pray, but only on special occasions and Friday dinners. He never partook in such a thing, only ever allowed to stand to the side and be the silent observer. He thinks of them in those moments and how such a simple act made them seem more hopeful—rejuvenated even.
Trying to mimic them now, Simon feels nothing but hollow.
Parts of Simon sank with Jericho. Even though the two years spent there weren’t all good, it was his first home. The freighter’s layout is etched in his memory, and its secrets will now die with him whenever that day comes. He just hopes that the day won’t come soon.
Is this grief? Maybe, Simon thinks, though he doesn’t fully know. How weird would it be to feel such a thing but not the cold? He doesn’t know much anymore. The last three days have been a lot . He’s been left behind at Stratford tower, returned to Jericho, and went on to follow Markus’ demonstration at the plaza. Then Jericho got swatted, and now he’s here.
He’s not even considering the other things that happened between those moments. There’s the night of his return to Jericho and Markus fixing the wires in his leg. When he replays the memory, he can feel Markus’ hands ghost over his thighs and the light squeeze. The memory is not as exciting as it once was. It turns into muddled mixed feelings.
All because of the demonstration Markus put up when they–along with the newly freed androids–faced a line made of an armoured riot unit.
Everything was going so well. Markus led a march through the streets with a new crowd of androids behind them. With a simple nod, Markus woke their people up on a whim. It made Josh, North, and Simon stare at him in awe. Even the bystanding humans watched it happen. Some were upset to see their androids leave, but there wasn’t much of a fight to stop them from going.
All was peaceful amidst the falling snow, but then they halted at the plaza. Riot shields were raised, and guns were pointed at them. The man leading the unit stood in front of the tanks, yelling for them to disperse.
“Markus, they're going to kill us.” North cried out, “We have to attack. There’s more of us! We can take them--”
Josh leaned in towards Markus and North, “If we attack, we’ll start a war! We have to show them we’re not violent. We should just stand our ground. Even if it means dying.”
“But dying here won’t solve anything,” Simon spoke up. He could feel the stress levels rise from the androids behind them, and he saw their faces and range of emotion; determination, bewilderment, and terror. Few were physically shaking.
Josh shot him a glance but didn’t rebuttal. Over Markus’ shoulder, North glared.
“Markus,” Simon said. He tried to sound just as determined as Josh and North had, but his voice faltered. His fists clenched at his sides, “We need to go. Now. Before it’s too late.”
Markus himself, strangely enough, had yet to say anything. He stared straight ahead at the riot squad as though in a daze. His brows lowered into his eyes, and his lips pursed slightly, stuck in thought. But then, Markus let out a steady breath.
“We have to show them that we won’t back down,” he declared. Each word was emphasized, “We stay right here.”
As it was said, the men behind the line of shields shot at the group. A bullet grazed the sleeve of Simon’s shoulder. Simon wasn’t hurt, but he heard the android standing behind him fall and rasp out their last breaths. He couldn’t bring himself to turn around and look.
“Disperse! This is your last chance!” The man commanding the unit yelled at them.
Both Josh and North turned themselves in towards Markus, leaving Simon to stand off to the side. Simon didn’t even try to join or realize that he'd been excluded. Processing thoughts took over his mind, and a stress meter appeared as a large icon on his HUD. The percentage number was quickly rising.
He only managed to catch a few of Josh’s and North’s words to sway Markus’s mind, but Markus chose to stay put again. More shots sounded, and more androids fell to the ground. Blue blood spurted from Markus’ forearm. He didn’t even flinch.
“Markus! What are you doing?” North pleaded. Her eyes were wide, she reached for him but didn’t touch him. “They’re going to kill us all!”
Gun rounds continued. Simon had finally brought himself to look around and see the bodies laying on the ground. There was an android wearing a blue uniform and a bullet hole between his eyes. He was the same model as him and shared the same face.
“Please,” Simon whispered to himself. “Let's leave.”
Markus continued to look ahead, and the light changed in his odd eyes. He took a step forward.
Certainly, Markus had to have something planned. So far, he’s always had something, Simon thought. Maybe he would use his words to persuade the armoured men to back down, to bring them to their cause. Hell, maybe Markus would break into song and bring the world together. Simon desperately hoped for anything and any plan to make those who have died already worth something.
Nothing was spoken, and Markus got shot with one bullet through the chest. As his body twisted and fell to the ground, it was as though his hold on the other androids they’d rallied vanished. Everyone alive began to run around the corner of the plaza and away. North and Josh stood and watched as Markus’ body went still.
A few men from the riot line broke away to walk toward Markus with their guns raised. Simon’s body was already moving to intervene when, literally out of nowhere, John showed up.
Everyone seemed to have been blindsided by the action of John trying to beat down the men. Even Markus, who was thankfully alive, sputtered out the android’s name in confusion.
The android they brought to Jericho from the Cyberlife warehouse. The same Android that Simon suggested that they leave behind. For once, Simon felt thankful for Markus not listening to his word of advice and then felt awful for thinking such a thing.
John got beaten to the ground as Simon rushed to Markus’ side. With all his strength, Simon dragged Markus back toward where the others stood. North yelled for him to hurry as Josh came forward to help Markus stand.
The metal plating of John’s skull got smashed in, and his eyes would forever stare ahead where the four had fled. While they left him behind, the guilt followed Simon, with the pain of all the bodies left stranded.
Everything just kept going downhill from there.
More and more androids were fleeing to Jericho, and they lacked supplies to support the numbers they had before. It grew loud within the freighter. Rumours spread of the deviant hunter and the fear they have. Some even began to canonize Markus as RA9. The three-letter word itself was appearing on more and more walls.
Simon did what he could, going from one makeshift infirmary to the next. He was standing over a female android who had shut down on the table, trying to salvage any parts he could. As Simon worked on removing an arm, Josh pushed through the infirmary flap and came up behind him.
Josh gave the woman a sad glance before turning to him, “Are you busy?”
Simon didn’t look up. “No, Josh, I am not. Clearly.”
He let out a faint noise, a tsk of the tongue. “Sorry, I was just wondering how you were.”
“How am I ?” Simon questioned loudly. “How am I doing? Look around! There’s a bigger issue than how I’m feeling right now.”
Simon tugged the woman’s arm out of place. He put it off to the side, setting it down carefully. With a sigh, Simon placed his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands. He fought the need to close his eyes.
“You’re upset,” Josh said.
“Are you not?”
“Of course I am. Simon, everyone is. We lost a lot of people today–”
“Because we chose to stay and let ourselves get killed. We didn’t have to do that. We could have turned back sooner.”
“You’re not blaming this on Markus, are you?”
Simon couldn’t retort.
Josh continued, “He was willing to give up his life for us today. And those who were lost, well, I don’t think it won’t be for nothing.”
“Our people come to us to be freed, not to be put up for slaughter. How do we make a change if we lose all the people we’re fighting for?” Simon shook his head and stood back up straight. His thumb brushed over the hole in his shirt sleeve. “I am willing to die for this. I nearly have already. But that’s my decision to make, no one else's.”
Josh fell silent. But with his lips pressed together, he nodded to Simon’s words.
Did he blame Markus? Simon’s feelings on that muddled together into incoherence. Markus did make the call to stay, but it was not an easy choice to make. He can’t imagine Markus being overjoyed by the outcome either. And if Simon really wanted to, he could have just left on his own accord.
“Josh.”
Josh lifted his head to meet Simon’s eye.
“They say history repeats itself, right?”
The slightest smile comes from him, “Yes, that’s a phrase.”
“But do you think it’s true? If you compare ourselves to the past, do you think we are on the ‘winning’ side of things?”
The remaining LED on Josh’s temple spun yellow for a second. “I want to think so,” he answered.
“I want to think so too.”
The plastic tarp of the infirmary crinkled as North pulled it open. She held onto it, choosing the stand outside. She looked more toward Josh than at Simon, “Markus wants us to meet him in the captain’s cabin.”
They all went together and walked in silence up to the top deck. Markus was already there waiting for them. He stood tall, finely dressed. It was as though he had not been shot just hours prior.
They had a discussion, breaking down their situation. They echoed what they’ve heard on the news and how they’ve been declared as a threat, and how the camps that have been set up to dismantle them. The whole time, Josh paced in small lines back and forth. North stayed close to Markus. Simon stayed off to the side, fiddling with the fabric around his thumbs.
They bickered amongst each other. Simon had to step in and remind them who their real enemies are, surprisingly North agreed with him. Simon said things were in disaster. Everyone agreed except for Markus. He stayed silent, staring out the front window into the blue night.
Markus had been silent since the march. He still seemed adamant and somewhat steady. What words he had said were confident enough to brush doubts to the side but not completely swept away.
Markus was not perfect, Simon realized. He was made just as fair as the rest of them. Rumours of him being RA9 be damned. He was far from pristine, with the dirt on his face and the blood on his hands that couldn’t be scrubbed clean.
It’s been Markus’ decisions that have led them here. It was his idea to sink Jericho.
But yet , Simon’s thoughts plead to him. He tries to finish the sentence, but he can’t.
Markus speaks to people around the church. He talks to both Josh and North. He makes time for the deviant hunter and the android with the little one. When Simon hears footsteps approach him, he doesn’t look up.
“I’m not disturbing you, am I?” Markus asks but sits down on a neighbouring crate without an answer. They’re close, nearly shoulder to shoulder. When he shifts his weight, Simon can feel him against his arm. “I wanted to talk to you.”
Simon feels Markus’ hand on his knee. His shoulders tighten. He doesn’t know if he wants to lean in and move away. He stays still instead.
“How’re your legs?” Markus asks.
Simon shrugs, “Fine.”
“Are you cold at all?”
His clothes are still damp from jumping into the water. In his HUD, internal temperatures were below standard. It wasn’t anything he felt or impacted his joints greatly. Simon shook his head.
There’s a strain pulling through Simon’s heart for not knowing how to talk to Markus. Not that Simon ever knew how to talk to Markus in the first place. They haven’t even known each other for long. With their situation looming over, Simon isn’t sure if he will ever get the chance to.
“Simon?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry about Jericho. I know how much the place means to you.”
Simon inhaled sharply and exhaled with a sigh. “It was the best decision you could have made. Jericho is a ship, but we’re still Jericho’s people. You saved lives.”
“But we’ve lost so many.”
“If it weren’t for you, we would have lost more.”
Simon looks at Markus, and his gaze is met with droopy eyes and a resting frown. Markus is exhausted. They both are. Perhaps it’s that tiredness that allows Simon to place his hand on top of Markus’.
“You’re a much better leader than I was. It’s a role I was never cut out for,” Simon says.
“I’m sure you were a great leader, Simon. And you still are a great leader—”
“You don’t have to be nice. I remember well what you first said when you arrived. You saw how we functioned and how sad it was. But you’ve changed that.” Simon’s hand clenched. “I may not agree with all that you do, but yet, I can’t help but believe in you, Markus.”
Markus hung his head, hiding a small smile in the shadows across his face, “You don’t have to be nice.”
Simon stands up, taking his hand back. Markus stands up as well. There’s a foot of distance between them now. It feels too much, but sleepless courage doesn’t move Simon to close the gap.
“Our people are counting on you, Markus,” Simon says. “Only you can lead our people through this. Wherever you need to go, we’ll follow you. I’ll follow you.”
Simon needs Markus to know at least what lies on the surface. He held onto how he’d be willing to tread through the thickest of snow or sink and walk along the seafloor if it meant something.
The lack of Markus’ response lets fear creep into him. Maybe Simon has said too much.
Markus gazes past him and over his shoulder towards the pews. North watches the two from there. She glares at Simon but sends glances of concern for Markus. Simon knows it's deserved, though. He did suggest leaving her behind when she had gotten shot on the freighter. In fairness, North had suggested abandoning him first back at Stratford.
Markus’ eyes focus back on Simon. He presses his lips together and turns his head the other way. His arm reaches out to Simon’s shoulder and pats down, feeling him to be solid. His hand lingers there for just a second, and then Markus is already pulling away all too quickly with nothing else said.
His footsteps echo as he walks over to North again, leaving Simon to stand alone.
Simon’s pump staggers and trips over a few beats. He can’t bring himself to watch Markus join North in the pews. He just stares straight ahead, blinking. Blinking and not even taking in his artificial breaths. He processes the plunging feeling.
He sits back down. His eyes close, and his hands come together again, but he doesn’t pray.