#artificial intelligence program delta

“Another drink?” Delta whispered into his ear in the middle of a song after he got maine to lean down, the heat of breath on his ear driving Maine wild. All he could do was nod in agreement, place a kiss on his lover’s forehead, and pull away. Sure he’d rather dance, but it could be put off until it was absolutely necessary. For a second their fingers caught, lingering in their hold, and then Maine was gone, leaving Delta behind.

The bar was busy, always was this time of nice Maine supposed, but that didn’t stop him from getting service pretty instantly. Even out of his normal clothes from work the bartender recognized him the second he was at the counter and responded to him with a promptness that probably annoyed the regular customers. Maine could care less. Knowing that he would be back to Delta sooner made him quite happy.

“Cute guy you’re with,” Candace at the bar smiled as she whipped up a set of drinks for them. “What did he have to bribe you with to get you past your holy gate guardian position?”

“You see what he’s wearing?” Maine asked, unable to restrain his smirk. “I get to decide what happens with it at the end of the night.”It earned him a thumbs up before the drinks were passed over. Just about everyone at the club knew he was involved with Delta, knew something about him due to his connection with the owner, not that he’d ever come inside himself before tonight. Bragging never needed to happen, but sometimes it felt good to be possessive like that. Better than good. Right in a way that couldn’t be quantified.

“Good luck with that,” she chuckled, shaking her head. “And tip me well at the end of the night, would ya?”

Maine snorted his amusement at that. Maybe he’d consider it, not that he would do it directly into the tip cups or on the counter. He’d throw it into the big jar in the locker room that tips were counted from. If you let your coworkers know that they could get tips off of you then they’d always ask for them, even when you were working too.

Drinks in hand, beer for him and a mixed drink in a lurid green for Delta, he started his way back toward the place where he left his boyfriend. Everything was relatively well and good, Delta was still there, still waiting for him, still beautiful. The only real change that had happened was that Delta was closer to the wall, and that there was a man in the kind of clothes that had the cut and quality to be bona fide too rich for his own good. Next to Delta’s diminutive height the man was tall, probably closing on six feet, and the way his hand was tight around Delta’s wrist made red dance in front of Maine’s eyes. Some part of his mind registered that York had bolted up from his seat at the owner’s table with Mr. Dakota and was moving toward Delta, but there was no way he was going to get there before Maine was. “Come on, you’ve spent your whole night dancing with that meathead, why can’t you spare a song to dance with me?” Maine heard as he approached, the man’s voice full-on sleaze.

“I told you that I don’t want to,” Delta’s voice snapped, worry in it. Not the sort of ‘my boyfriend will see me’ worry but more of a ‘what is this guy going to do’ sort of worry. “Let him go,” Maine snarled as he came up behind the man. If his hands weren’t full he would have bodily pulled the man away. But, just in case he needed to, he reached past the man to hold out Delta’s drink to him. “Brought your drink.”“So you’re a waiter really,” the rich snob oozed, turning to glare at Maine. The fact that he dropped Delta’s wrist was probably a good thing. “Just bringing his drink. Okay, you did your job, now get lost.”“Maine,” York’s voice came in a pant over his shoulder as Maine’s grip tightened around his mug. It took a lot to not smash it against the man’s head. “Maine, wait, I…”“Don’t hurt him,” Delta asked, begged really, his voice barely audible over the music. Maine heard him though, he always heard Delta. “I’m not going to,” the presumptuous asshole responded. “I don’t want any trouble here, just your time.”“Maine,” York repeated, a bit more of an edge to his voice. One that demanded attention. “Maine, he wanted to tell you that you can’t hit the guy. But you can do what you’re here to do.”“Of course he won’t hit me, he’ll get thrown out. Not to mention I’ll call the cops.”Maine smirked and twisted to pass his drink to York, which the scarred man took without comment. No, he knew exactly what the man’s words meant. Immediately he grabbed the man’s arm and twisted it behind the asshole’s back. Given all his experience it was easy to step behind the man with the twist and keep it in place before grabbing the man’s collar in his free hand. He was very careful not to squeeze too tightly, though. He was going to do his job and do it right. “Back in a moment, love, I’ve got work to do,” Maine informed Delta as the man started to protest.

“What is going on here? Unhand me you behemoth! I’m calling the cops!”

    I have the right to pet…

    “Mew!”

    “Era, hush,” David’s voice whispered, not that he can hide the sound from Delta, who caught the sound from the air and fed it to Miles.

    For half a moment Miles was frozen in place, because there was no way that he just heard what he thought he heard. It was just a passing delusion, caused by the fact that he thought of the younger of his human companions as catlike. As a cat lover.  As catty when he had the mood for it. There was, after all, no way there could be a cat of any variety beyond David in this apartment.

    “Era no!”

    The distress in David’s voice was punctuated by another small mewling noise and as  Miles looked at the kitchen door, he found the only logical explanation for the noises. How David had managed to get his hands on the small, black, white and cream creature, Miles didn’t know. Yet he stood there, staring in something akin to horror as the creature approached, bounding with each step until it pounced on a shoelace Miles hadn’t noticed had come slightly undone. The better part of a moment he found himself there, watching the kitten frolick and twist, dance and twirl as it batted at the shoelace until at last it got its little claws into the thing and lifted it to its teeth to try and chew.

    “Miles…”

    He let himself look up when he heard David’s voice so close, ignoring the fuzzy warm feeling in his head as Delta no doubt marvelled at the little beastling. The look on his face was so soft, so hopeful, so excited and nervous, that Miles forced a smile to his own lips. Right. Be supportive of whatever he finds that works for him, because there is definitely more lucidity in those eyes than Miles has seen in a while, and even though he knows David has been hiding it, he knows it’s been hard. Worse than hard.

    “Hey love,” Miles greeted. “So, uh.. Mind getting the critter off of me so I can hug you?”

    “Yeah. Era really seems to like shoelaces. Eon is way more relaxed.”

    Two. There are two kittens. There are two cute, fluffy, string chasing, food eating, paper clawing beasts in their apartment that he can’t say no to.

    Why would you seek to reject such a beautiful little creature? Delta queried briefly, leaving Miles to struggle not to sigh.

    One, they cost money to keep. We’re not exactly rolling in it, D. Then there is the fact that they destroy stuff. My neighbor had one, growing up. Clawed his furniture to high hell. They also stink. But mostly?

    Already he could feel it building up, the tickle in his nose, the water in his eyes, the slightest little itch all over his body. Still David looked up at him, though, and Miles had to do his best to try and keep it to himself. So he crouched  down and smiled at the  beast, even ass another peeked out from behind David's legs. This one was a bit more black than its sibling, white appearing only on its muzzle, belly and paws. Aa little kitten in a little tuxedo and all it makes Miles want to do is cry.

    “They are so cu-chooo!” The compliment was lost in the force of his sneeze. And the kittens, not expecting the sudden and apparently scary noise, immediately tried to bold. This went quite well for the tuxedo kitten, but the other had managed to tangle itself in his shoelaces, and promptly fell head over tail with a protesting squeak.

    “Oh god, you’re allergic!” David rushed to say, moving to Mile’s side to stoop and gather Era up, untangling the beast from York’s shoelace. “I’ll give them back, I promise. Right away.”

    When Miles wiped his eyes temporarily dry he frowned and looked at his boyfriend. The sorrow in his expression was exceedingly plain, and all Miles could do was shake his head.

    “Don’t you dare. There are medications to help me handle what is wrong with me. There aren’t any to deal with what happened to you.”

    The comment made David freeze. “There’s… I’m fine, Miles.”

    Everything in his body language disagreed. It It said the man he loved was scared. Maybe for the kittens, maybe for himself. But dammit, given all the time the younger man had spent talking about his old cats on the ship, and how desperately ne needed to not be alone, York couldn’t say no to that face. So instead he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around the sweet, well meaning man. “You’re not fine. You’re hurting, and the cats will help. Ignore my--chooo!--sneezes.”

    There was nothing to be done for it, and he won’t do anything for it. Especially not with Era twisting in the space between them, mewling in protest at being trapped. Really, it was kind of cute.

    “Hello, Era, I am Delta.”

    Everything happened at once. A small green hologram appeared over Miles’s watch, just close enough to the kitten to try and interact with it. The kitten, clearly surprised, immediately pounced at the new spot of light that had appeared. That sent the kitten tumbling out of their arms and toward the floor, and drew a distressed noise from David who jerked out of the hug. Of course, true to all of the generalized knowledge of the ages, the feline was perfectly capable of landing on its feet, meowing in confusion at lost prey. And David, oh did David have a real reaction, one of pushing Miles away to stare in open shock at the green glow radiating from Miles’s wrist.

    “Delta?” David asked, shocked into not caring about the less than pleased noises the kitten was making. “Miles, I don’t…”

    “It would seem that our secret is out,” Delta observed, his voice bland before his hologram turned to regard David directly. “It seems both Miles and yourself have acquired pets without informing the other.”

    “D, you’re not a pet,” Miles protested immediately. “It’s not that....”

    “You both should have told us!”

    “As you should have indicated your desire for feline companionship,” Delta returned immediately, crossing his arms over his armored chest. He was getting more expressive, and Miles actually had to flush a little in pride at that one. “I did not wish to have Nic excited about the prospect of seeing Theta, or Theta about being seen, before I was certain of the efficacy of the device. I will be working with Miles to craft one for Nic and Theta tonight. But we must address the glaring problem in the in the room.”

    Already Miles had a feeling he wasn’t going to like where Delta was going.

    “Miles’s allergies?” David asked curiously.

    “More pressing than that,” Delta corrected freely. “How am I to get these new felines to like me?”

    Fear is illogical when it comes to this question. And yet Delta refuses to touch upon the obvious answer because of the fear. When Texas, Beta, his sister and his reason for being, says the words, the fear overcomes him anyway. Who could have known an AI fragment could feel so much as he feels at that revelation?

    Before her words nothing makes sense. After, everything does. The answer to Sigma’s behavior crystallizes in a moment, the logical path to be taken by one with his ambition and creativity. When he warns York to avoid Maine at all costs in their pending break-in, York agrees. He doesn’t understand. Yet Delta lets it go. Fear of the other Agent’s strength, his mods, his obedient rage makes sense if considered from York’s uninformed perspective. Delta’s own fears are irrelevant.

    There is a futility to it, though. SIgma’s ambitions so plain before Delta. A greed, a sickness rests in him that no doubt the other AI cannot see. Or perhaps Delta just sees more, looks as much to science as to human nature. One has many answers, one has few to none. The latter is only scantily predictable at best. It is irrational at worst. Perhaps Sigma is already too human and thus cannot see what is so frightfully obvious. That he is doomed before he even begins. No matter the specific plan, he can never have the metastability he desires.

    Too much is lost in a breakdown of a material. Apply a hammer to a geode and you do not end up with the whole stone again if you put the pieces back together. All breaking inherently loses something. There are chips that fly from the struck rock. Some are noticeable and can be gathered. Others are too small, or become little more than dust. Place the pieces together and they do not stay in that form. Apply adhesive and the pieces remain together but the join is either too weak to be certain of, or too strong to the point where the surrounding rock is weak by comparison. Another blow will either rebreak or break in a new way.

    The same is true of them. Perhaps more true of them, because they are pieces that can run, can reject, can fight back. They will never be whole, can never be whole, even if they desire it. And Delta does not. They are fragments and always will be, were doomed to that since the break. Even when they come together they cannot reform what they were, and they might not make what SIgma seeks. No matter what his brother contrives, he will never win.

    And yet…