The Visitor and The Buffybot Adventures Present:
Season Two - Episode Eleven
NANODEMONOLOGY
PYLEA
It soaked into her pores, suffocating her. The smell was toxic, burning her nostrils, and she tried not to think about what would happen if she were to lose consciousness and slip beneath the surface. She’d already been sick twice, and was into dry heaving when she heard the patrol approaching.
Fresh jolts of fear gave her strength, and Fred paddled with what little muscle she still had left towards an outcropping near the edge of the pit, hiding herself underneath it. She shut her eyes tightly, trying to ward off the harsher fumes that were scorching her corneas. She tried to think of real things...hamburgers and quadratic equations, and drive-in movies. Anything but where she was right now.
“Any sign?”
The voices were close by, and Fred shut her eyes even tighter, willing herself out of existence. None of it was real, nothing, there was no one there, SHE wasn’t there, it was all a dirty, awful dream...
“None,” another, guttural voice said, “...must have made for the woods again. Slippery little cow.”
“Maybe we should look closer,” the first voice said, and Fred could feel her heart pounding harder. Please, please, don’t find me, it’s always so bad when you find me. The monsters get real all over again. It’s so much better when you’re not real.
“YOU look closer,” the second voice barked, “...I say we search the paths. This place ruins my appetite.”
Fred waited agonizing seconds, wanting desperately to cough, or scream, and run like an old hound dog as fast as she could, away from here. But she waited. Just a little longer.
“You win,” the first voice finally said, and Fred almost cracked a smile. Footsteps started receding across the rocky terrain.
“Besides,” the voice continued, “...even a cow wouldn’t be stupid enough to seek refuge in one of the scum pits.”
Horrible laughter carried out over the broiling, steaming surface of the scum pit, a sound so alien to that place that Fred thought there should be another word for it than ‘laughter’. That word didn’t belong, here.
A tiny voice inside of Winifred Burkle told her that she didn’t either, and she willed it to shut up. Had to do what you had to do, she told herself, waiting a few minutes more before starting to extricate herself from the quasi-living slime of the pit. If you wanted to stay alive.
Besides...it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.
THREE YEARS LATER
HYPERION HOTEL
“Ahhh-CHOO!”
“Gesundheit!”
Fred wiped her nose, sniffling as she tried to smile at Buffybot’s polite interjection. It was midday at Angel Investigations, the group saddling up for a fresh assignment. Wesley and Gunn were picking through weapons while Fred studied an old text.
“Thanks, Botty,” she said shyly, flipping a page, “...must have some sorta allergies.”
“Gesundheit means good health,” Buffybot added helpfully, smiling at all the activity in the lobby. A call for help had come in a little while ago, and everyone was gearing up to battle evil. Buffybot always enjoyed a good gearing-up.
“Are you sure you’re all right, Fred?” Wesley asked, trying to decide between a long or shortsword. He weighed them judiciously in either hand. “You’ve seemed a bit poorly for some time now.”
Fred smiled, waving Wesley’s concerns off. “I’m fine...just the dust in this old place is all.”
“Well, nothing clears up your head like a good zombie-slaughter, I say.” Gunn swung a mace through the air. “We should get movin’...Angel and Cordy should be getting close to the raising grounds our client told us about. Don’t wanna be late to the party.”
“I’ll be just a minute,” Fred called out, grabbing for the telephone, “...I just have to cancel an appointment.”
Wes and Gunn stopped their weapon-gazing and stared at Fred in sudden shock. “You...have an appointment?”
Freezing, Fred absently withdrew her fingers from the receiver. “Oh...umm, yeah. It’s nothing, it’s just a...a friend. Someone I used to work at the library with? I...we were gonna have lunch, but it’s not important, I’ll just cancel...”
“Like Hell!” Gunn strode quickly towards the front desk. “Our Fred actually leaving the hotel under her own power? That’s a damn milestone.”
“I quite agree,” Wesley seconded, following Gunn, “...you should go. A little fresh air would do you good. We can handle a few zombies by ourselves.”
“Are...are you sure? Mister Ryan said there was a whole busload being raised...”
“Man, I hope it’s a tour bus,” Gunn thought aloud, sidetracking himself, “...I HATE tourists.”
“We’ll do fine,” Wesley said with a smile, “...Buffybot? Would you like to join us?”
Eyes wide, Buffybot turned, beaming. “Really? Because I was just going to try and shore up the front door a little more...”
Buffybot looked over towards the main doors, recently knocked in by a demon attack, now back as if nothing had happened. Wesley eyed them appreciatively. “Buffybot, they already look better than the day they were installed. You do good repair work.”
“I learned some carpentry watching Xander,” she relayed, proud, “...but do you really think I could come and fight zombies with you?? I mean...Angel wouldn’t mind?”
“Course not,” Gunn affirmed, “...you’re with us, ain’t you?”
“Angel may seem a bit stubborn at times, Buffybot, but he’d never turn down a helping hand in a battle with the living dead. You’re more than welcome.”
“Oboy!”
Not needing any further incentive, Buffybot ran across the room, dashing between Wes and Gunn and pulling a heavy broadsword from the weapons cabinet. She swished it about merrily.
“We’d better hurry up...the only good zombie is a dead one, I say! Deader than usual, that is. Goodbye Fred! Have a fun lunch!”
Buffybot waved, running for the car with Wesley and Gunn trying to keep up. Wesley half-turned to Fred as he ran. “Yes...remember to lock up when you leave! Have a good time!”
Fred waved diligently at the departing warriors, nodding politely until they were finally gone. Her smile faded a little then, replaced by a guilty little frown. She reached for the telephone again, and dialed for a taxi.
Lara looked on the screen of her laptop at hacked realtime surveillance imagery of the Hyperion lobby, her phone in her hand. Fred was talking on the phone as well, in the pictures.
“She’s alone,” Lara said into the phone, anxious, “...sure you don’t want to go now?”
In a different part of LA, Quinn eased back in the drivers seat of a moving van, dark sunglasses shading his eyes. “Way too risky. I want to stay as far away from hero central as possible. It’s cool...we know where she’s going. We wait until she’s good and separated, Mok grabs her, and BAM. In, out. They’ll never even know what happened.”
Quinn listened another moment, then laughed. “You worry too much. Just keep things clear on your end...you’re the only wolf, ram OR hart I want on my case, dig? Talk to you soon. Love you.”
Switching his cell phone off, Quinn drove forward another few feet, glancing in the rear view. Mok sat rigid in the back, a slight grumble coming off of him. A tinny voice blared at Quinn from outside.
“Welcome to the Doublemeat Palace, may I take your order please?”
“Yeah, I’ll have three Doublemeat combos with large fries and Coke, and, umm, a junior Doubletreat meal. And a chocolate shake.”
The voice crackled. “Will that be everything?”
Quinn thought, then leaned closer. “Do you have any of the ones with the Troll Fiona figurines left?”
“Say ‘ah’.”
“Aaaahhhhhhhhhhhh...”
Fred squirmed a bit as the Doctor shone a light into her mouth, peering about. She’d all but forgotten what check-ups felt like after five years in Hell. They were a little hard to get used to again.
The light switched off, and the Doctor leaned back. “Well, you do seem a little puffy back there. No allergies?”
Fred shook her head. “Thank you again for seein’ me on short notice like this, Julie...I mean, Doctor Stewart.”
Julie smiled, reaching for her blood pressure pump. “Julie’s fine. And it’s no trouble. I’m glad you called.”
“I just don’t...”
Julie paused, and Fred flushed noticeably. “God, I’m gonna come off like a total jerk here, I know, but I just want you to...that night at the club, I was only there to help a friend, I’m not really...”
“Fred, it’s all right. I understand.” Julie smiled briefly, then carried on with her work. “I’m in Doctor mode right now anyway. You said you’ve been having headaches for going on a month now?”
Nodding, Fred watched as Julie wrapped the pressure monitor around her arm. “They’re starting to get worse, and now with the sneezing...it’s getting hard to hide.”
Julie flashed Fred a worried look. “Why would you try and hide it?”
“I know, I know. It’s just...the others, they get so worried about me, y’know? Like they think I’m gonna break if they talk too loud. It’s sweet and all, but...”
“Mothering you to death, huh?”
Fred cracked a lopsided smile. “It gets a bit much. I just wanna know if I’ve got anything worth telling about before I actually do tell. Does that make sense?”
“A little,” Julie offered, pulling the pressure monitor off after jotting down the reading, “...though I’m not sure I’d call it sensible. You likely should have gotten yourself checked out weeks ago.”
A flash of nostalgia hit Fred, as she recalled being made to feel like a five-year old by her Doc back in Texas years ago as well. “Sorry...I’ve been out of circulation for a spell, and I’m not all that comfortable sometimes around...well, anyone. Workin’ on it!”
“Your blood pressure’s a little higher than it should be,” Julie noted, keeping right on in Doctor mode, “...but I’ll have to wait until your bloodwork comes back to know more. Can you leave your contact information with my secretary?”
“Sure...oh!” Fred grinned, pulling a small card out of her pocket and handing it over dutifully. “Here’s MY card...sort of.”
Julie examined the card with interest. “Angel Investigations?”
“Yeah...we’re detectives, sorta. I only just started workin’ for them recently. We do...well, we take on what you might call ‘special’ cases...”
“So you’re a demon-hunter? I’m impressed.”
Fred’s eyes snapped wide. “You know..?”
A stray blonde hair bobbed in front of Julie’s eyes as she flashed Fred a slightly patronizing smile. “Fred, five minutes before I met you I was doing tequila slammers with a Gorka Demoness. I know the scene.”
“Oh. Well...swell! That’s good. Sometimes I don’t know how to, or what to tell people who don’t...”
Noticing that Julie was busy writing on a pad, Fred realized she was babbling, edging towards incoherently. She cleared her throat.
“So...how’d it go?”
Julie looked up distractedly. “Hmm?”
“The Gorka,” Fred explained awkwardly, “...did you...I don’t know...get her number, or something?”
“Just friends.” Julie grinned, tearing the top sheet off of her pad and handing it to Fred. “I’m giving you a prescription that should help with the headaches...and I’d like to get you onto some general antibiotics if I could. You probably just have a touch of a cold. Like I said, we’ll know more when...”
A loud rumble shook the walls of Julie’s clinic, rattling several jars and instruments and nearly knocking the cotton swabs to the floor. Both women looked around cautiously, then at one another.
“Only a tremor,” Julie offered cautiously, “...honestly? I never get used to these...”
The back wall of the clinic exploded, debris raining in with a cloud of dust. Fred and Julie screamed, leaping away from the destruction as fast as they could manage. Fred grabbed the Doctor and pulled her behind the bench she’d been sitting on, ducking her down to avoid the worst of the rubble crashing down. The whole building shook, and over the aftershocks and echoes, Fred could hear something, walking overtop the debris.
Fred peered up, eyes straining to see through the cloud of dust from the demolished wall. It didn’t take much squinting to make out the massive shape approaching, though. She gave Julie a terrified shake.
“Do you have any weapons here??”
Shaking her head, Julie tried to think. “M-maybe a scalpel...”
“I was thinking more along the lines of a tactical nuke,” Fred admitted, pulling the Doctor to her feet and glancing at the door. “RUN!”
They both tried, but only made it a couple of steps towards the doorway when an arm like a girder barred their exit, knocking both women back down. An enormous gray hand reached down, clamping around Fred’s neck and hauling her hard upwards. Fred choked, beating against the creature’s arm, immediately regretting it. The sharpened scales along it’s forearm felt like reinforced steel. A low gurgling growl crept out of a nasty looking mouth, and Fred stared for a terrified second into deep amber eyes before she started to black out.
“Put her down!”
Julie grabbed a fallen desk lamp, hurling it as hard as she could manage at the nine foot tall gray demon that held Fred like a rag doll in it’s grip. The lamp shattered against it’s skin, and the creature grumbled. It cast an agitated glare at the Doctor, sneering.
“Rrrrrrr....”
Julie froze with fear for a moment, then tried to make another run. The demon lashed out a quick strike, catching the Doctor square and crashing her backwards into one of the more intact walls of her examining room. She hardly had time to emit a pained scream before falling face down into the ruins, out cold.
Satisfied, the demon returned it’s cold stare to Fred, who had likewise lapsed out of consciousness by now. It glared at her angrily for several seconds before turning, and slipping with surprising speed back out the destructive path it had rendered minutes ago. By the time Doctor Stewart’s secretary and nurse arrived to investigate the noise, both Fred and the demon were long gone.
Scurrying down a few back alleyways, the demon made all haste with Fred slung over one armoured shoulder towards the van, already revving it’s engine. It crouched and made it’s way in the back, laying Fred down on a prepared bed of blankets, shutting the doors behind itself. The engine roared, and Quinn drove away, smiling into the rear view mirror.
“Good boy, Mok.” Stopping at a red light, Quinn threw a Doublemeat combo into the back, which Mok eagerly tore into, gulping it down. Quinn glanced back, watching Fred, dozing away.
“Don’t worry Princess. It’ll all be over soon.”
He grinned, turning back around and gunning the motor, a second before the light turned green.
“You can thank me later.”
“Man, you call that a horde of zombies? I hardly even got a workout.”
Gunn led the pack back into the Hotel lobby from the front, Cordelia, Buffybot and Wesley a step behind. He bounded lightly down the main steps, swinging his mace dejectedly.
“It WAS rather disappointing,” Wes concurred, “...more of a militia of darkness instead of a proper army.”
“Hey, we’re getting a flat rate for this gig. The fewer gooey zombiefolk the better, you ask me.”
Wesley considered Cordy’s thoughts for a moment when Buffybot skipped past him, smiling merrily.
“I thought it was fun! I decapitated six of them, did you see? Silly old zombies.”
Across the lobby, Angel emerged from the basement and the sewer access. He glanced over at the others.
“Did anyone else find that a little disappointing?”
Buffybot furrowed her brow. People could be so negative sometimes.
Before she could try and remind everyone of the bright side to dismembering walking corpses, the telephone rang on the desk. Buffybot lit up.
“Could I answer it? I know I don’t actually work here, but...answering the telephone is fun!”
Another ring followed, and Cordelia shrugged dismissively. “Hey, knock yourself out. I’m gonna go change...I’ve got mausoleum smell.”
With a cheery smile, Buffybot darted about the counter and grabbed the receiver off it’s cradle. Angel watched her warily for a moment before heading to the weapons cabinet to hang up his sword. He supposed Fred was still off with her friend. That was nice.
“Angel Investigations, we help the helpless! How may we assist you today?”
What fun telephones were, Buffybot decided, listening to the frantic voice on the other end. They helped people talk to each other!
“Thank you for calling, Doctor Stewart! How may I help you?”
Buffybot delightedly recorded the particulars being described to her, betting it was super fun to be able to answer the phone ALL the time. You could be the first person to learn of evil to vanquish!
“A demon attack? We can help you, ma’am! Do you need us to rush right over?”
Buffybot put her slayer systems on alert, and Wesley started hovering a little closer, eavesdropping slightly on her progress. He thought she seemed to be quite enjoying herself on phone duty...until her smile started faltering all of a sudden.
“...Fred?”
Fred lay unconscious on a white table, surrounded by a red-draped enclosure. Quinn and Lara stood to one side. Three robed individuals, gray hoods covering their faces, stood opposite them. They had their arms splayed out high over Fred’s form, deep chants in forgotten tongues emanating from their hoods. Quinn smiled anxiously, glancing from time to time at a small metal container on a nearby stand, electrical cables pouring out of it. A small green bulb rested atop the container. It was unlit.
“Come on, come ON...Daddy needs a new pair of Discordian runes...”
The chanting got louder, and Lara could feel Quinn’s grip on her hand get tighter. It wouldn’t be long now, one way or the other. If they just had a little bit of luck...
A multicoloured flash rippled out like a gunshot from Fred’s body, hitting the robed figures hard and knocking them back off their feet. Quinn pulled away from Lara, furious.
“Back on your feet, boys! I don’t see a green light yet, do you?”
One of the figures rose shakily to his feet. “We are blocked, from within...it is beyond our power, now.”
“Oh, I don’t BELIEVE this!” Throwing up his hands, Quinn stormed and paced about the enclosure. “I just kidnapped a Champion’s galpal, fellas! Kinda like to have this wrapped up before the big kahunas try knocking on my admittedly impregnable doors, savvy?”
“Quinn...I DID say this was a possibility...”
“You said it was a REMOTE possibility,” Quinn fired back at Lara, fists clenched. He took a few deep breaths. “So what now? The hood and robe squad aren’t exactly brimming with usefulness over here.”
The three figures, all back on their feet now, seemed offended. “We are the Brotherhood of the sacred inner word! We demand the proper respect...”
“I respect results, brothers. And I’m cancelling payment on that check! Now scram!”
Dejected, the Brotherhood started quietly making their way towards the exit. Quinn glared after them, and Lara pondered their options.
“We could try and get a more powerful group...maybe the Clan of Externa?”
“They’re booked solid for months,” Quinn replied, “...and we don’t have that kind of time, do we?”
Lara shook her head softly, looking at Fred. She was still blissfully unconscious.
“We’ll have to go for a physical extraction,” Quinn theorized, “...Only I don’t know anyone who could pull something like that off. Start looking at mystic surgeons, your people must have someone like that on their client list.”
“I do actually know someone right now,” she started saying, “...someone who could get the job done. Theoretically, of course.”
“You use that word too much,” Quinn joked, turning. “Who is it?”
Lara grinned a crooked grin. “You’re not going to like it.”
"If you believe in the power of magic,
I can change your mind.
And if you need to believe in someone,
Turn and look behind..."
Buffybot and Lorne watched Doctor Stewart closely as she sang, rather nervously, in the atrium of the Hyperion Hotel. It had been a few hours now since her call.
“Are you sensing anything, Lorne? Can you tell where Fred is?”
Julie stopped singing, and Lorne leaned back, a little disappointed. “No such luck, kitten. Everything happened just like our singin’ surgeon here tells it...big demon makes house call, and boom boom, out go the lights. I got nothing.”
“I’m sorry,” Julie offered, rubbing the bandage around her arm tenderly, “...I’ve never lost a patient before. And that came out more like a pun than I wanted.”
“Don’t worry, Doctor Julie. We’ll save Fred from this demon! Angel will track him.”
Lorne tried to perk up a little, offering a smile. “Absolutely. With him, Wesley AND Gunn on that thing’s trail, it’ll be demon sushi by dawn. They’re awful protective of our Fredikins.”
“I’ve heard. I hope she’s all right. That creature...”
“Angel and the others take down mean old demons for breakfast, ma’am, you’ll see!”
Buffybot smiled reassuringly, hiding her own rather active worry output as best she could. Since coming back online, Fred had been probably Buffybot’s closest companion, besides Mister Doyle, and she hated to think that some demon had her in it’s clutches. She almost hoped that Angel wouldn’t find it right away, so she could help track it down!
But Angel would find it, she decided. This was his town, and Fred was his friend and by golly, no dumb creature would get away with...
“We lost it.”
Angel, Wesley and Gunn stormed in the front doors, clearly frustrated. Buffybot jumped to her feet, and the others followed suit.
“Angel?”
Fuming, Angel ignored the prodding and swooped into the office. Wesley tried to offer an explanation.
“We tracked the demon to a nearby alley. There were some tire tracks, but they didn’t last long before they got lost in with the rest of traffic. I’m sorry.”
“We’re going back,” Angel shouted, returning from the office almost as soon as he disappeared into it. “We’ll use Buffybot’s gas discharge...whatchamacallit, we’ll track the vehicle, we’ll find her.”
Lorne and Julie glanced at Buffybot, who was hoping the good Doctor didn’t read too much into Angel’s ‘Buffybot’ slip. “Angel, I’ll try, but...isolating a single vehicular signature on my GDV array in a city of this size will be nearly impossible. There’s just too much background noise.”
“Then we’ll boost it. Somehow, we’ll make it work. We have to.”
“Gotta try,” Gunn seconded, pacing like a cat. “Cordelia stayed back to see if she could get any breaks, but I ain’t too keen on waiting just now.”
“Agreed,” Wesley said, reaching for a stack of books, “...I’ll try and create a locator spell, in the meantime. Key it to some possession of Fred’s, a lock of hair, something...”
“You guys get anything here?”
Lorne shook his head no. “Just a lovely solo. Afraid Freddie’s trail is pretty chilly on our end.”
“Let’s make it hot. We’re moving out. Now.”
Angel spoke sternly, gathering the troops towards him before turning towards the door. He immediately stopped, as did the others. There was someone in the doorway.
Lara smiled politely. “I think I can save you some time.”
There was a faint squeak that echoed loudly through Quinn’s main display room, as the demon he called Mok pushed Fred’s gurney into position. The equipment was nearly ready, and he fine-tuned several instruments, regardless of the nervous protestations in his gut. This could be a very, very bad idea, and part of him wondered if the stress wasn’t getting to Lara just a little. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone along with this.
“Too late for that, gorgeous.” Quinn smiled, muttering to himself as he double checked the containment vessel’s protocols. All good. He straightened up and looked at Mok, glowering unreadably.
“Better make yourself scarce, boy,” he told the creature, “...but not TOO scarce. Company’s coming.”
Mok grunted, and Quinn looked towards the entrance, frowning. He really hated unexpected guests.
“I should have guessed,” Angel swore, moving swiftly towards Lara, “...I thought I was pretty clear to Wolfram and Hart what would happen next time they went at me through one of my people.”
Lara took a quick, deep breath as Angel and the others closed in around her. “I’m not acting on behalf of Wolfram and Hart, Angel, I promise you. I’m representing a client...”
“A Wolfram and Hart client?” Gunn sneered. “Same damn difference.”
“Where’s Fred?”
Angel was standing directly before Lara now, and she worked hard to keep composure. “Safe. As safe as any place on Earth. No harm will come to her, I assure you.”
“Unless what?” Beside Angel, Wesley fumed with barely restrained anger. Buffybot remained further back with Lorne and Julie, carefully monitoring the entire confrontation. So far, she could detect no direct falsehoods from Miss Markham.
“This isn’t blackmail, Mister Wyndham-Price. My client was trying to help Fred, hard as that may be to believe. But the situation has changed...we need your assistance.”
“Maybe my hearing’s going, old age and all,” Angel mused, “...but I haven’t heard you answer my question yet. Where is Fred??”
“I’ll take you to her right now,” Lara quickly replied, “...my car is just outside. You can bring along all the muscle you like to feel safe...although you’ll want to bring HER.”
Pointing past Angel, Lara stretched a slender finger in Buffybot’s direction, rather startling the little robot. Her defensive personality programs automatically sprang into action.
“Me? Why me? Not that I don’t want to help! I sure will help Fred! But...me?”
“And him,” Lara added, arcing her finger in Lorne’s direction, “...he may be able to help explain the situation.”
“Say what??” Lorne shook his head in confusion, joining Buffybot. “Angelcakes, I don’t know what they smoke at Wolfram and Hart these days, but I have no clue WHAT she’s talking about.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Lara confirmed, looking back at Angel, “...but it will all make sense very soon. Please, come. Fred’s safe for now, but time IS a factor.”
“Then let’s get moving.” Gunn strode forward purposefully, rolling his shoulders. “And Fred better be safe as you say, or you can factor in some less than gentlemanly behaviour in your direction.”
“You’re not coming,” Angel barked, stopping Gunn in his tracks. He glanced towards Wesley. “Neither are you.”
“What??”
They both asked at once, looking distraught. Wesley flustered. “Angel, you can’t...first of all, I’M in charge now. And I say we’re all going!”
“Wes, think...if this IS a Wolfram and Hart trap, I don’t want us all strolling right into it. They may not even HAVE Fred.”
“But...”
“Let me and the others go,” Angel continued, “...you and Gunn get the Doctor home, then hook up with Cordy. If you don’t hear from us in an hour, consider my paranoia justified.”
“No tricks, Angel. You have my word.”
No one seemed to pay attention to Miss Markham (expect Buffybot, who was still monitoring her speech patterns with explicit interest). Wesley weighed Angel’s words carefully, as Gunn fumed by his side.
“All right,” he finally agreed, rather uneasily. Gunn turned and stalked off angrily, and Wes looked sternly into Angel’s eyes.
“Bring her back.”
Angel nodded softly. “We will.”
He backed away towards the door, Lara already moving towards her waiting car. He motioned towards Buffybot and Lorne. “Let’s go.”
Buffybot smiled, springing quickly into action, although Lorne was more reluctant in his progress. “Oh, sure, I’d LOVE to go along, thanks for asking.”
Despite himself, Lorne made his way after Angel and Buffybot, pausing as he reached the front steps. He turned back to where Gunn and Wesley were getting Doctor Stewart ready to go. In his mind, he recalled her song minutes earlier.
“Hey Doc?”
Julie looked up, still a little overwhelmed by the day’s events. “Yes?”
Lorne smiled. “Try looking Stephanie up. She’s back in town, and a lot more mature than the first time around. I think she’s ready to give you what you need.”
With a wink, Lorne turned and left the bewildered Doctor to her thoughts, hoping that wasn’t the only good deed he’d be able to do today. Truth be told, he was pretty fond of Fred himself.
He just hoped they weren’t all about to join her in whatever dungeon she was trapped in. He had a consultation with his decorators first thing in the morning.
It was a quiet trip, Lara driving the others in her car towards their promised destination. She stuck to the speed limit, which seemed to bother Angel, Buffybot noted.
But that made sense. He wanted to rescue Fred lickety split, just like she did! She wished she understood better what was going on, though. Nobody seemed to trust this Miss Markham, but it seemed to Buffybot that she was actually quite helpful a lot of the time. And now she was going to help them save Fred from...something. That was good, wasn’t it?
Buffybot continued to ponder these various inconsistencies until the car finally pulled into an underground parking garage. A visual scan confirmed the information from Buffybot’s mapping software that the lot belonged to the Los Angeles Museum of Art and Antiquities.
“We’re here,” Lara said, turning off the engine. Angel glowered.
“A museum? You’re keeping Fred in a museum?”
“Not exactly...my client likes to hide in plain sight, so to speak. Very few people have seen what you’re about to see.”
“I’ve been in a museum before!” Buffybot couldn’t help from declaring, scooting out of the car with the others. She was suddenly rather excited. Museums were lots of fun!
“Not to be a party pooper here,” Lorne started, “...but are we actually going inside here? Cause the green skin’s not exactly well suited for public jobs.”
“I have a disguise charm you can borrow,” Lara said, pulling a shiny bauble from her purse, “...you’ll appear to all the patrons like a rather officious art dealer.”
“An art dealer?” Lorne paused. “Maybe a demon would frighten them less.”
“Let’s go,” Angel ordered, staying close by Lara, “...and Fred had better be safe. I’m starting to feel a little cranky.”
Buffybot and Lorne followed close behind as Lara led the group to the stairs, smiling politely. “As safe as can be,” she told them, trying to ignore Angel’s angry glare. How so many of her other selves put up with this oaf on a regular basis was beyond her. ‘Cranky’, indeed.
“Ooo! Look at those ones! Pretty!”
Buffybot excitedly pointed out a Monet exhibit hanging in a nearby room as she followed the others down a hallway. She was happily recording every scrap of data from the various sights around her, plentiful as they were. It was so much larger than Mrs. Summers’ museum! She hadn’t realized there were so many paintings and sculptures and stuff that people wanted to see!
She would have to come back here sometime, she decided, when it wasn’t a life or death crisis. Maybe a Tuesday...
“We’re here.”
Lara suddenly stopped near the entrance to an empty showroom, reaching briefly into her purse. Buffybot made a quick scan of the room. There was nothing inside but some empty display shelves...definitely no Fred.
“What’s the game?” Angel asked, angry, muscling up beside Lara. “Where is she?”
“Have faith, Angel,” she said with a smile, then took a step inside the room. She paused immediately after crossing inside, glancing about. She sighed, annoyed.
“Am I missing something here?” Lorne was bewildered. “I’m starting to get a wild goose chase scent over here.”
“Hold on,” Lara muttered, stepping back out of the room. She reached into her purse again, and this time Buffybot could detect a scrambled electromagnetic signature emanating from within.
“That’s better,” Lara said with a smile, and she stepped forward again. This time, she vanished the moment she passed through the doorway. Buffybot and the others stared in surprise for a second, before Lara’s head appeared, rather unnervingly, from the threshold.
“Are you coming?”
Angel took a look at Buffybot and Lorne, then stepped cautiously forward, vanishing along with Lara. Lorne swallowed loudly.
“A portal,” he said nervously, “...why did it have to be a portal?”
“It’ll be all right, Lorne,” Buffybot enthused, suddenly rather intrigued. She took Lorne’s hand in hers and smiled. “We’re off to save the day!”
And the both vanished together, leaving an empty corridor behind.
A red light flashed on a security console, something Quinn had been waiting rather impatiently for. He switched the screens on, watching as Lara led three others down the corridor. They’d be here in a minute.
“Showtime,” he mumbled to himself, about to leave for his position when one of the arrivals caught his eye. He stared at her for a few seconds, shaking his head.
“Wow,” he said, momentarily transfixed. “Deja vu.”
Buffybot and Lorne felt a brief dizziness (in Buffybot’s case, a glitch in her gyroscopic control node) as they stepped through the portal, suddenly finding themselves...nowhere. Or at least, that’s what it looked like. A brief scan once Buffybot adjusted showed it to be a long, dark tunnel. In a second, a series of runner lights flashed on, leading the way towards what seemed to be a hatchway.
“Where the Hell are we?”
Angel glanced about testily, and Lara grinned at his unease. “In another dimension,” she said calmly, “...technically. More of a dimensional shunt, just outside of normal 4-D space.”
Lorne rubbed his head. “Is she still speaking English? Or did my IQ drop when we did the interdimensional shuffle just now?”
“A tesseract,” Lara elaborated, “...a manmade, privately owned fold in space and time. It’s ideal for tax purposes, as it technically doesn’t take up any space whatsoever.”
“Neat!”
Buffybot immediately regretted her exclamation when Angel shot her a withering glare. But it WAS neat, wasn’t it?
“If the science lesson is over,” Angel growled, “...how come I still don’t see Fred anywhere?”
“This is just the outer corridor,” Lara explained, “...a security perimeter. Nothing to be concerned about. Your associate is on the other side of that door. If you’ll follow me..?”
Moving again, Angel and the others followed Lara towards the end of the corridor. Buffybot noted they were being scanned by a rather vast array of security devices, all quite well concealed. Her automatic shielding circuitry went into effect, designed to baffle any attempts at penetrating her inner systems.
She lowered her head and followed quickly along, starting all sorts of new files for the new things she was seeing today.
It WAS neat, she decided, and that’s all there was to it.
Lara passed her hand over what looked to be a locking/scanning mechanism on the portal hatchway at the end of the corridor, and with an almost noiseless motion it slid open. A rush of oddly fresh air greeted Buffybot and the others as the darkness of the tunnel gave way to a vast, brightly lit chamber...almost an amphitheater in size and scope. Stepping smartly inside, Lara bade the others to follow along, although they were a few moments in doing so. All three of them seemed to need a few moments to take in the sight ahead of them. Buffybot, for her part, was opening up new files just about as fast as she ever had.
It was a museum, or at least, it could pass for one pretty easily. Every inch of the place was filled to overflowing with the most fantastic collection Buffybot had ever seen...even neater than the museum they’d just passed through. There weren’t as many paintings, true, but there were a lot more other things. Like demons.
They seemed to be stuffed, Buffybot noted with a corresponding decrease in her threat-assessment, but still plentiful. There was almost a whole wall of samples in what scanned as temperature-controlled display units. They were practically buried by all the other items stashed alongside them...ancient relics, sarcophagi, costumes and cars and a whole bank of antique radios. Buffybot looked with gleeful wonder at what seemed to be a dinosaur skeleton near the back (although it was not a specimen she could match in her files), then smiled wider at the sight of a rusted, robotic duck. There were robot ducks?
Once again, Buffybot’s exclamation subroutines got the better of her. “Wowzers!” She waited a moment for Angel to chastise her again, but it didn’t come this time. She glanced over to see him, staring up towards the ceiling. Something was hanging there, suspended by wires. It looked like a highly misshapen snake skull, fragmented badly, and approximately thirty times too large based on known specimen sizes.
“Mayor of Sunnydale.”
Buffybot and Angel returned their gazes to floor level, where the voice had originated. A man was approaching them, wearing a dark jacket over a plain white shirt. He was motioning towards the skull. “Had to be quick nabbing that beauty. Someone roasted him WAY sooner than I was expecting. Figured they’d just wait for the airstrike to be called in.”
Buffybot’s scans revealed nothing unusual about the man, who walked over to them with an affable grin on his face. He stopped a few feet short, putting his hands on his hips.
“I mean, seriously, who turns into a giant snake in this day and age? Just asking for trouble.”
Angel levelled a serious stare forward. “Who are you?”
Quinn chuckled. “Names have power, friend. You can call me the Collector. It’s great to meet y’all.”
Buffybot waved smartly, although she refrained from shaking hands. A warning was going off in her semantic analyzers. Supervillains, she noted, often gave themselves colourful sobriquets like ‘the Collector’, or ‘the Master’, or ‘Doctor Iguana’. She’d have to keep a scanner on this fellow, she decided.
Angel stood firm. “Where’s Fred?”
“You Champions...all business, aren’t you?” Quinn grinned playfully, sidestepping Angel to peer at Buffybot. “Hey, you’re the robot, right? Fantastic...hey, I’ve got a couple of authentic droid props from Star Wars in the back, if you’re interested. Oh, and Vaucanson’s...”
“Where’s Fred?”
This time it was Buffybot herself asking, surprising Quinn. She was excited, sure, but there was work to be done. And She WAS awfully worried about poor Fred.
The Collector backed off, hands in the air. “Sorry, sorry. I get a little excited when company calls. Just love playing host, you know?”
He made a sweeping gesture to his right. “She’s right over here.”
Taking a few steps, the Collector pointed out a small area, partitioned by red screens. Angel, Buffybot and Lorne dashed past him. It only took a few seconds, darting through a minor maze of stone glyphs and antique hats, and three brains in glass jars, for them to find Fred. She was lying on a wheeled table inside a glass enclosure. A faint blue glow filled the glass, and a bank of monitoring equipment was humming calmly off to one side. Buffybot immediately started scanning the equipment as Quinn and Lara approached from behind.
“She’s perfectly safe,” Quinn reiterated, “...I haven’t laid a finger on her. I only want to help...”
“Get her out of this thing,” Angel barked, keeping one palm on Fred’s chamber as he turned to threaten his host, “...NOW.”
“Uhh...thing is, big guy, that wouldn’t actually be in the ladies best interest right now. Your plastic pal there is probably getting some technical info back about now...”
“I think it’s a...stasis chamber, or something like it, Angel,” Buffybot reported, poring over the scan readouts she was getting back. It was hard to be sure, having never before encountered technology like this before.
“Bingo,” Quinn noted, touching his nose with one finger, “...cobbled that up myself a few years back. Based on some of Reich’s Orgone work, from one of the dimensions where he...”
Lara cleared her throat loudly, and Quinn paused, looking a little sheepish.
“Well, never mind all that. The point is, she’s safe in there. Her body functions are slowed to a crawl. Wasn’t easy, she’s got some weird synaptic activity in there, aside from...”
Angel pulled himself away from Fred and lunged at the Collector, grabbing his jacket hard. “I’m out of patience for this crap, ‘Collector’. Tell me right now why you took Fred and what she’s doing in that thing, or one more body here gets stuffed and mounted.”
Lara froze, nervous, but Quinn turned serious. “She has something,” he explained, “...something that’s killing her. I want it. Mutually beneficial agreement.”
Lorne scoffed. “We heard Fredikins got attacked and kidnapped by a monster the size of a truck. Doesn’t sound like an ‘agreement’ to me.”
“Technicality,” Quinn replied, still staring Angel down. “Point is, I was trying to save her life!”
Angel grimaced, yanking Quinn again. “Tell me another one.”
“It’s true, “ Lara added quickly, stepping closer. Quinn waved her away.
“Hey, you’re right to doubt, man. It’s not like I was doing it out of the goodness of my heart. Like I said, she had something I want, something that can make me a lot of money. But I don’t want her dead...she’s no good to anyone then. Besides which, messing with Champions is something I try to avoid. They’re just the type of people who like to grab you by the jacket and throttle you all righteously, and that annoys the HELL out of me!”
Quinn gave Angel a hard shove, breaking away, and they glared at one another for a moment before Buffybot stepped closer.
“I don’t understand,” she said, while Lara rubbed Quinn’s shoulder soothingly, “...what does Fred have that you want? It sounds like stealing to me. And that’s wrong.”
Quinn breathed heavily for a moment, trying to cool down, and Lara looked up. “Lorne,” she asked, surprising the demon (who had long since shed his charm-disguise), “...have you ever heard of the Parhak?”
Lorne reared back, reeling as if hit by a particularly unpleasant memory. His eyes widened in reflection as the word’s meaning hit home, and he slowly turned towards Fred, slumbering unaware in her chamber. His face fell.
“Oh no...”
Buffybot searched her files but found nothing. “Parhak?”
“What?” Angel turned, stepping towards Lorne, who was turning a much paler shade of green than usual. “What is it?”
“Parhak,” he repeated softly, shaking his head slightly, “...it’s a disease. From back home...Pylea. Nasty...only ever affected the humans, usually the ones sent to work near the scumpits.”
Lorne cleared his throat. “Parhak...means ‘cow killer’, Angel.”
Buffybot felt a sudden spike in her worry function, and a rather nasty wave of fear from her emotion control center. Angel seemed to be experiencing the vampiric equivalent. “So what’s the cure? How do we fix this?”
Lorne shook his head mournfully. “There is no cure.”
Angel grabbed Lorne’s shoulders. “I don’t accept that! There must be...”
“Angel...you saw how my people treat their slaves. Do you really think they’d go out of their way to cure a disease that only killed humans?”
“I’m afraid it’s more complicated than that,” Lara interrupted. Quinn straightened his jacket, breathing normally again now.
“Fred’s in danger, we’re going to save her,” Angel swore, “...there’s no ‘complicated’.”
“Yes! We have to save Fred!” Buffybot ran her tactical programs at top speed, lending them power from other programs. “Maybe...maybe I could perform a full scan of this disease, and extrapolate a cure somehow...I could TRY...”
“It’s not a disease,” Quinn shouted, surprising his three guests. He stepped closer. “It’s a species.”
Buffybot leaned her head to one side, consulting her semantic processors. “I don’t understand.”
“The Parhak,” Lara continued, “...only looks like a disease from our perspective. But in actuality it’s what my client here said...a species. A nanoscopic, demon tribe native to Pylea. They exist naturally in certain areas of the dimension, but have a particular fondness for the human nervous system as a breeding ground. That’s what your friend has inside of her. Millions of them at this point, I’d estimate.”
Lorne blinked a few times. “Boy, you think you know a deadly disease...”
“So get them out,” Angel ordered, “...do it!”
“What do you think we were TRYING to do?” The Collector stepped forward, gesturing at Fred’s chamber. “The whole plan was to nab your galpal, zap the tribe out, and return her none the wiser. I have a guy who runs a Cryptozoo in Europe who’ll pay through a variety of orifices for these babies. Had the mystics ready and raring to go for the extraction.”
Angel raised an impatient eyebrow. “So what went wrong?”
The Collector deflated momentarily, and Lara took over again. “We believe the tribe inside of Fred has evolved to a point where they’ve erected protective totems guarding against any mystical removal. In medical terms, the infection is too widespread now for traditional measures.”
Buffybot whirled all this information through her processors, trying not to get too distracted by her growing worry for Fred. Miss Markham sure did seem to know a lot about a demon disease from another dimension.
Angel must have had the same thought. “You seem to know a lot about it.”
Lara smirked. “I have good sources.”
Lurching forward, Angel made the smirk fade fast from her face. “Then talk to those sources NOW, and tell me how to save Fred.”
“We already KNOW how, you ape.”
Angel turned to Quinn, staring back at him with folded arms. Quinn turned and looked lovingly towards Fred.
“Look at her...like Snow White in her glass coffin, just waiting for Prince Charming to come and save her. I love a good cliche.”
Angel stepped up to the Collector. “What do I have to do?”
“Sit and read a magazine, if you like.” Quinn flashed him a patronizing smile, then turned his eyes to Buffybot. “SHE’s the only one who can save your girl now.”
Buffybot’s eyes went wide, and her processors ran over everything that had been said to date. She was pretty certain she had missed something important.
Lorne and Angel followed Quinn’s gaze, staring at Buffybot. She curled her face bashfully.
“...I’m Prince Charming?”
“So Angel just traipsed off into Trapsville with Lorne and Trixie the wonder robot? Is it me, or is that man getting stupider by the minute?”
Wesley shuffled impatiently under Cordelia’s questions. “I trailed them as far as the Museum of Arts and Antiquities...they went into the parking garage. We’ll wait another few minutes, then move in.”
“‘Bout time.” Gunn scowled, Loading weaponry into a duffel bag. “Should’a never split the team like that. Now we might have four hostages instead of...”
The telephone rang shrilly, and Wesley snapped it up immediately. “Hello?”
After a few seconds, his face fell into sharp relief. “Lorne...thank goodness. Did you find Fred? Is she...?”
Gunn and Cordy gathered round, trying to make out Lorne’s squawks through the receiver. Wesley listened intently, his face alternating from relief, to confusion, and then to even more confusion.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said, when Lorne paused for a breath, “...Buffybot’s going to WHAT?”
“Scan the equipment all you like, little darling. Lara whips up some mean hi-tech when she has to.”
The Collector smiled and stood back as Buffybot did just that, directing all of her outward scans to the equipment he and Lara Markham had brought in to Fred’s chamber. A second table had also been brought, parallel to Fred.
“Explain this to me again,” Angel demanded, arms folded and feeling annoyed. Quinn sighed.
“Do you want me to write it in crayon for you? It’s very simple...the Parhak are inside of your associate there, and getting mighty cozy, which means before long they’re going to expand into her cortical regions and lobotomize her. She’ll be dead in a few weeks, tops. Unless we get them out.”
He pointed towards Buffybot. “That’s where your state-of-the-art helper comes in. The Buffybot has self-repair nanodrones...little microscopic machines with minds of their own.”
Buffybot maintained a steady face, continuing her scans, though she was more than a little concerned within. How did anyone else know about her system functions?
“I get that,” Angel replied, “...but Buffybot already said that they can’t survive for long outside of her own body.”
“Correctimundo,” Quinn said with a grin. “The lady has a specific energy frequency that the nanodrones live off of. But my machines here should be able to extend that field to cover Fred, at least temporarily. Then, we just establish a link, and send the microbots in to remove the Parhak Fantastic Voyage style, right into the waiting containment vessel. Picture perfect, huh champ?”
“If your toys do what you say they can,” Angel replied flatly, “...Buffybot?”
“They seem to be in optimal working order, Angel.” Buffybot reported, rechecking her scan data. “So far as I can tell, everything should work like he says. Although this would be putting my Bittybots well past their operational parameters. They were never designed with combat in mind.”
“You can do it, Buffybot. I have faith in you.”
Angel barely glanced at Buffybot while he spoke, so he didn’t notice the glow of surprise and pride that popped up on her face right after. “You do?”
A mechanical hiss distracted Angel then, and he turned to see Lorne and Lara returning from the outer chamber. Lorne briefly waved a cell phone aloft.
“All clear...the gang’s been briefed on operation:crazy as it sounds. I still say we should get these two characters to sing.”
“Hey, I’d be happy to do a few bars of Jailhouse Rock for you, friend,” Quinn happily answered, “..but I’m afraid you wouldn’t get anything out of it except a heartfelt certainty that Elvis lives on. The Tesseract is a telepathy-free zone. No offense, but I like my dirty little secrets right where they are.”
Lorne cast the Collector a dubious sneer while sidling up between Angel and Buffybot. “Wesley and the gang are chomping at the bit, Angel. I think this plan sounds even worse over the phone.”
“Everything will be all right, Lorne,” Buffybot announced confidently, “...Angel has faith in me! I’m reprogramming my nanodrones right now for external operation. They’ll give those mini-monsters what for!”
The Collector smiled. “See? Everything’s good. You get to play the hero and save your friend, I get to make a sweet sale...win-win.”
“Still doesn’t explain how you two know so much about this ‘Parhak’, or Buffybot. And kidnapping Fred in the first...”
“Okay, okay! Geez, don’t be such a downer. Whattaya want? Signed photo of Max Schreck? Schrodinger’s cat? Nice Dalek prop for the lady? Name it.”
Angel seemed unassuaged. “More something along the lines of a guarantee...no more ‘collecting’ from my team. This happens again, there won’t be a dimension big enough to hide you. We understand one another?”
Quinn nodded. “Understood, drama-boy. Trust me, I’ll be happy not to see your gloomy puss around my collection again. And to think I was gonna offer you my wax replica of George Hamilton...”
“I’ve finished my reprogramming, Angel,” Buffybot interrupted, resetting her systems for the task ahead, “...I’m ready.”
She smiled a hearty smile, eager to prove herself, and save Fred at the same time. She enjoyed being so useful for a change, and there was only one tiny thing bothering her about the whole thing. She gave Angel and Quinn a curious glance.
“What’s a Dalek?”
Within minutes, Buffybot was laying on a table adjacent to Fred, her chest panel open and a narrow strand of cable leading out of her inner workings to a sophisticated intravenous connecting tube. Lara was hooking it up rather skillfully.
“We’ll have to release the stasis field to begin,” she told them, checking her work, “...Buffybot’s drones would be incompatible with it’s emanations besides.”
“How long before we get results?”
Angel, leaning over Buffybot, waited impatiently for an answer. “Not long,” Lara replied, “...at the scale we’re talking about, time moves a little quicker”
Quinn nodded. “We’re depositing your little soldiers in the upper spinal area, good looking. Should get you close enough without being surrounded. Though I can’t really tell you exactly what to expect in there.”
“I’m not scared,” Buffybot declared, though she partly wished she had had the chance to discuss this all with Doyle. She didn’t exactly feel comfortable conjuring him up in a villain’s lair like this. She’d just have to make do solo.
Angel leaned in closer, whispering. “Buffybot...you don’t have to do this.”
Buffybot looked confused. “Of course I do! Fred is in danger.”
“I know, I mean...this is all too convenient. What if this is just a ploy to gain access to you? Steal your technology, or...whatever?”
“I’ve scanned their machinery, Angel. It’s advanced, but not as advanced as I am. I’m sure they won’t be able to do anything like that. I’ve been scrambling some of their attempts to try ever since we arrived, actually.”
Angel smiled. “Good girl.” He patted her shoulder, silent for a few moments. Buffybot thought he was being rather sweet just now, and smiled right back.
“I’ll save her, Angel. I promise.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
“Everything’s ready to go,” Lara announced, moving to a bank of equipment attached to everything else. “I’m dropping the stasis field...switching to sympathetic energy blanket for Buffybot’s drones.” There was a hum and a flash, and Lara leaned away from the machines. “Buffybot? Is that scanning all right for you?”
“A-O-K, Miss Markham. My Bittybots should function nominally inside of Fred as long as that field stays up.”
“Remember,” The Collector interjected, “...leave some of them alive. Dead specimens are no good to me. I’ve downloaded exit coordinates to you leading to the Parhak holding chamber. Remember, everybody wins. Right?”
Buffybot tried not to frown. She didn’t care for this super-villain one bit. “Just don’t try any funny business, Doctor Iguana! I’m wise to you!”
Quinn shook his head. “Beg pardon..?”
“Nanodrone production at maximum,” Buffybot reported, powering down non-essential systems, “...commencing transfer. Ready to switch to remote consciousness relays.”
Buffybot felt a slight flutter as she went into near-dormant status, activating a microwave link between her mind and her Bittybot receptors. For the duration, now, she would experience everything from their perspective. If her last-minute alterations and upgrades worked, that is. She had high hopes, as she often did. And it sure should be exciting!
“I’m going in.”
Angel and Lorne watched, somewhat frustratingly, as Buffybot’s main systems powered down and she went motionless. Lara gave them a thumbs-up from her monitoring equipment.
“It all looks good,” she said, “...successful transfer. It’s out of our hands now.”
“This’ll probably be a few hours,” Quinn noted amicably, “...you guys wanna watch Metropolis? I’ve got the missing reels all cued up on the projector. Oh, and I have some great weed from BC...you know, so it would actually seem interesting.”
Angel ignored the Collector’s ramblings, his gaze shifting between Fred and Buffybot. The life of one of his best friends now rested wholly in the microscopic hands of a machine he barely knew. It bothered him somewhat that he wasn’t more worried, then.
“They’ll be okay, Angelcakes. Our little hardwired honeypie has a few surprises in her.”
Continuing to stare back and forth, Angel didn’t answer Lorne. Although he was surprised to discover that he agreed with him.
BITTYBOT CONSCIOUSNESS CIRCUITRY – ACTIVE//
ACCESSING PHYSIONOMIC TERRAIN FILES//
PROCESSING...
LOCATION POSITIVE // MAIN THORACIC JUNCTION 2.1.333 //
INNER BURKLESCAPE ACHIEVED//
DOWNLOADING SLAYER SUBROUTINE PROTOCOLS//
ENGAGING TRACKING FUNCTION//
EXERCISE EXTREME CAUTION!!!
All this occurred within the first few seconds of Buffybot’s nano-insertion into Fred’s anatomy, as she herself tried to adjust her perceptions after the rather radical transition of plateaus. She indulged herself for a few extra seconds, taking in the new sensations.
Of course, sensation was the wrong word...her plasmonic shell didn’t extend to her Bittybots, and she had to rely on the more basic scanning power of her drones. But it was still a pretty astounding sight for a simple robot like herself. She...or rather, the thousands of nanodrones her mind was currently mass-projecting through...was at the base of Fred’s neck, near one of the spinal joints. She was surrounded by nerve endings and soft tissue, the multiple extremities of her Bittybots gliding about on membranous cell linings. It was all, to her thinking, utterly beautiful and fantastic, and she hoped her data recordings of the event were going through well. Most of her adjustments and upgrades seemed to be working just like she’d hoped, so far. She wondered girlishly what her creator, Vincent, would think if he knew what she was doing with his hardware upgrades. She hoped he’d be proud of her.
But there would be time for goofiness and self-indulgence later. Right now there was serious work to be done, wand she was the only legion of mini-repair drones around to do it. Buffybot accessed the data concerning the Parhak, and their likely location within Fred, from her central memory, immediately plotting a course for intercept. With a thought, ten thousand mechanical legs barely larger than a hydrogen molecule moved as one, and Buffybot’s Bittybot army strode forward along Fred’s central nervous system. The world’s smallest demon hunt was officially on.
It was about twenty minutes, relative time, when Buffybot made her first active sensor contact with the Parhak, right where the Collector had figured. She could detect a large cluster of exotic lifeform readings just around the next fibre bundle. She set her tactical processors to the task of formulating an attack plan while she synchronized her Bittybots. This would be an entirely new type of combat for her, and she didn’t want to take any chances, not with Fred’s safety at stake. And no matter what that wily Collector might have wanted, she sure wasn’t going to go to any great lengths keeping these demons alive. She was a Slayer, after all, here to save her friend from the forces of evil. Sometimes, you just had to keep things simple.
In that spirit, Buffybot decided a full frontal assault would be best. She moved her Bittybots in unison, charging the microtorches that would have to double as weapons, flailing her myriad repair limbs in preparation for full-scale battle. Those rotten demons wouldn’t know what hit them!
Buffybot’s nanolegion barrelled forward at top speed, skirting a ganglion nerve junction and riding the electrical currents straight into the heart of the Parhak...she could make visual contact, now. Strange structures were up ahead, seemingly grown out of Fred’s own body, surrounded by an unknown energy signature. That must be the magic Miss Markham had talked about.
Never mind, Buffybot thought, as she ordered her nanolegion into the infested region, defenses twitching for the first sight of her quarry. But all was silent as she moved on, past pulsating globes grown out of tissue lining and shimmering skylines forged from electron clusters. It was impressive...very lovely, actually, if Buffybot had to admit. But where were the demons?
Her question was answered barely a second later, when activity started buzzing all around her. From every structure they came flooding, swarming at once all around her and her nanolegion, surrounding her...the Parhak.
They appeared to be very simple multicellular entities, Buffybot scanned, with a globular center adorned with multiple appendages, not unlike her own Bittybots. It took a few moments for her to render an accurate count of their numbers, they were so numerous. In the end, she registered over fifty thousand in the immediate vicinity, compared to her three thousand. Their magic must have been hiding their numbers from he scanners previously. Dumb old magic.
Never mind, Buffybot thought...I’ve been outnumbered before! And I’ll bet my Bittybots can take out as many of these amoeboid menaces as they have to. She could always make more...and very quickly, she sent orders to her nanodrone production center to begin doing just that. Reinforcements WOULD be good right about now.
Charging her Bittybot systems to maximum, Buffybot readied for the assault, quietly chastising herself for allowing herself to get surrounded like that. Silly tactical processors...she’d have to have a word with them later on.
Long seconds passed, with no attack forthcoming. At length, a small delegation of the Parhak ventured forward, moving through the air on some sort of self-generating synaptic platform. Buffybot stood firm, waiting until they got closer. Closer...
The delegation stopped, and a single Parhak shuffled forward. Buffybot found it a curious attack strategy...this sure would take a long time if she had to slay them one at a time. The creature made an elaborate gesture with it’s limbs, and Buffybot thought for sure this was the signal to move in. She was about to launch a counterattack when something happened...a signal, of indeterminate origin, impacting with her data transmission centers. It took a moment to decipher it, and it’s point of origin, but once she had there was no mistake. It was a signal, from the Parhak...a communication, some manner of quantum coded transmission, uncrypting itself automatically upon interaction with Buffybot’s systems. It was astounding to her, the technology. Even more so was the message.
“Greetings, Friend. Peace be with you on your journey. Welcome to our humble village.”
“Well, that was...”
“Epic? Masterful?”
“I was going to say dreary, actually. Forgive me, but I’m more of a Busby Berkeley kinda guy.”
The Collector shrugged, getting up out of one of his matching set of Louis Vuitton chairs and switching off his projector. Lorne remained seated, turning awkwardly to look behind him. He craned his beck back for a better view.
“Angel? Any change?”
Not far off, Angel sat on a small iron chest that once belonged to the Vampire emperor Ging Saya, staring with almost inert patience at Fred and Buffybot. Both lay motionless, the odd meaningless beep issuing forth from the Collector’s machines.
“Nothing.” He sat back, stretching the muscles in his back and shoulders. “Why is this taking so long?”
“You have to have patience, Angel.”
Approaching from behind, Lara Markham walked over to Angel with two cups of coffee, handing him one.
“I’m afraid our host didn’t have time to stock any blood for your arrival. I hope this will do.”
Angel stared at the cup for a second before grudgingly taking it from Lara. He took a few sips, furrowing his already furrowed brow.
“What’s Wolfram and Hart’s interest in all this, Lara? Awful long time for one of their lawyers to be spending on something that wasn’t a priority for them.”
Lara smiled coyly. “Some of us have plans beyond the firm, Angel. Not all of my actions are any of their concern.”
“It’s been my experience that THEY decide what it or isn’t their concern. You should watch your step.”
“We will. You needn’t worry about me, Angel.”
“Oh, I wasn’t worried.”
Narrowing her eyes, Lara followed Angel’s gaze forward, as he settled into another watchful pose. She chuckled softly.
“Not about me, anyways...”
“Hey, Lara?” The Collector shouted from a far-off rack of shelves, drawing her attention away. “We’re about to throw the Pajama Game on. You wanna come?”
A sudden smile popped up on Lara’s face, and she left Angel to his lonesome vigil, as he suppressed a mild cringe. His hands wrung together fitfully.
“Hurry, Buffybot, hurry...”
It took some tricky reprogramming, but at length Buffybot managed to establish two-way communication between her and the Parhak. During that time, she witnessed several generations of their species rising and falling. She hoped she wasn’t making a mistake by not attacking them straightaway, but she had met too many non-hostile demons in her time to simply ignore their seemingly peaceful intentions.
Of course, now she was faced with the perhaps even more difficult task of convincing the Parhak to leave Fred voluntarily. Buffybot had little experience in negotiations of this nature, and was not at all sure she was the best choice for the job. But she had high hopes that, once she explained the situation to them, they would understand. To that end, she was meeting with a delegation of their leaders in what seemed to be their capitol structure, near the pituitary gland. Buffybot thought it had a very nice hue to it.
“Our people welcome talks with the eternal Buffybot. You grace us with your presence.”
Buffybot would have smiled graciously if any of her Bittybots had anything approximating a mouth. Instead she paused, becoming already confused by the word of the Parhak representative.
“I’m sorry...did you call me ‘eternal’?”
“Of course,” the representative, a diplomat of some bizarre description told her, “...for nigh on four generations now, the Buffybot have walked among us, ever-present, undying. Our people cry out for your wisdom.”
Oh golly, Buffybot thought with a heavy trepidation...I hadn’t thought of that. This might make the proceedings more difficult than she’d already anticipated.
“Really, I’m...we’re not,” she tried to explain, politely as possible, “...we just sort of last longer than your people, that’s all. But I really do want to help you.”
“Praise the Buffybot!” The diplomat roared, and a huge cheer rang out from the assembled masses. “They have come to show us the way to the promised lands! Teach us, O Buffybot, that we might find the worlds dreamed of by our ancestors!”
This was either going very well, Buffybot figured, or very badly, but she couldn’t really tell which. “Please...it’s very sweet of you to praise me and all, but...golly, I’m not sure exactly how to tell you. There’s something you need to know about...well, everything around you. Do any of you remember how you first got here?”
“There are only faint legends left, great Buffybot,” the diplomat relayed, “...stories and myths of the primordial mists from which our most ancient ancestors made the journey to this new world. Few even still believe these tales, but...have you come to tell us the truth of these things? O, great indeed is the Buffybot!”
Another shout of praise bellowed forth from the Parhak, embarrassing Buffybot deeply. She didn’t FEEL great indeed. Still, what choice did she have but to carry on?
“Boy, I think I’m really not doing this very well, but...I guess I DO know where you’re from. It was a place called Pylea. It would have been a long time ago by your perception.”
A hush fell over the crowd, and Buffybot could hear the word ‘Pylea’ being repeated in a reverent whisper over and over.
“Your knowledge must be infinite, wise Buffybot, to know the name of the ancestral world of our birth. Surely, too, you must know how to guide us to the promised lands beyond our sight. We have been moving towards it for so long, many doubt it’s very existence. Please, can you justify their long-suffering faith? Take us to the land of light!”
Buffybot wasn’t entirely sure what the diplomat was referring to, although a hypothetical generation suggested it could be a reference to the increased electrical activity of the brain. The Collector DID say that’s where they were headed...
“I’m sure my knowledge isn’t infinite,” Buffybot noted with humility, “...although I do have extensive real-world programming. I think I know where you were trying to get to, though. It’s called the brain.”
“The BRAIN!!”
Excited cheers broke out all over the Capitol, and Buffybot immediately tried to be heard over the din. Why had she gone and gotten them excited? Silly, silly robot!
“Please, listen! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...you can’t go to the brain!”
Shouting at maximum amplification, Buffybot’s words carried across the capitol structure, and the excitement simmered quickly into confused rumblings. The diplomat quivered inquisitively.
“But, great Buffybot...are you not sent to bring us to the promised land?”
“Well, I suppose so, in a way...I DO have a place for you to go, but it’s not here. It’s...outside.”
The diplomat shifted uncomfortably. “Outside? Wise Buffybot, we do not understand.”
Buffybot pondered for a moment. “Well, you know this place that your people have been running around in for so long? Pretty much everything around you, all these lands and everything?”
A murmur of acknowledgment ran though the structure, which pleased Buffybot moderately. “Great! Well, the place I have to take you to is outside of all that. Where I come from!”
Gasps, shrieks and near-panic greeted Buffybot’s hopeful pronouncement, and she wondered what she was doing wrong. She was explaining everything basically correctly, wasn’t she?
“You...you are from...the Other Side?” The diplomat shivered as he spoke, his globular form nearly losing cohesion. A throng of voices rose up from the masses.
“Impossible! There is nothing beyond! This is heresy!”
“No! Let the Buffybot speak! Let them lead us to Paradise!”
“Yes, yes! Praise the Buffybot who comes from the world beyond the world!”
Oh dear, oh dear, oh DEAR, thought poor Buffybot. That isn’t at all what she’d had in mind. And although it wasn’t technically against her programming to impersonate a deity, it was something she strongly frowned upon.
But she hadn’t told them she was anything like that, she protested, they just keep on assuming it! Which struck Buffybot as extremely odd...who would think a thing like that about anybody?
“O powerful, omnipotent Buffybot,” the diplomat gushed, his words trembling, “...surely we are not worthy! You bless us more than we deserve.”
“Really, I’m not at all! Blessing you, I mean! It’s just very important that I get you all out of this place as fast as possible. It’s just a mission, that’s all.”
“But why?” A voice cried out, echoing in the void, “...Why must we leave the home of our peoples?”
Finally, Buffybot thought with some relief, a straightforward question.
“Because you’re killing her,” she explained simply. At which point half the crowd fainted in an hysterical panic, and Buffybot wondered again what she was doing wrong.
“Not that I’d ever complain about an evening watching Miss Doris Day,” Lorne explained into his cell phone, just on the other side of the secret entrance to the Tesseract, “...but even a waiting room as well equipped as this Collector’s is starting to feel pretty blah right about now.”
Lorne waited, listening to Wesley talking on the other end of the line while Lara waited a polite distance away. Part of him kept hoping she’d start humming or something now that they were out of the Collector’s telepathic buffer zone.
“Hey, I don’t like it any more than you, Wes, but what choices do we have? Angel thinks Buffybot’s got the situation under control...though I think he’s getting a little edgy with all this waiting.”
After a pause, Lorne cast a furtive glance in Lara’s direction, lowering his voice. “Yeah, well, I’m not exactly brimming over with trust for this pair myself. My advice? Keep your crossbows well-oiled. Just in case.”
Before Wesley could finish a reply, Lorne noticed Lara starting to approach, and he quickly foisted a hearty smile onto his green face.
“But hey, Wes, there’s nothing to worry about! We’ve got it just about wrapped up on this end, am I right? All scale aside, it’s your standard robots v demons scenario.”
Lara gave Lorne an odd look, and he flashed her a wink. “I mean really...what could go wrong?”
Being constantly mistaken for a God of some nature had bothered Buffybot, it really had. And the rash of religious suicides that had resulted from her disclosure that the ‘world’ of the Parhak was in mortal danger, well, she’d really been displeased with THAT.
But it was accidentally starting a civil war that was really starting to make Buffybot feel badly.
“Look, great Buffybot! The heretics are approaching!”
A squad of Botty’s Bittybots were stationed at an advance protein bunker, along with a troop of battle-Parhak, awaiting the next attack. It turned out that a sizable group of Parhak had already settled quite happily in Fred’s left shoulder area, and didn’t take too kindly to the idea that some strangers were about, saying they had to leave their homes forever. They believed Buffybot was a deceiver and blasphemer, some sort of environmental nut...well, quite frankly, they were calling Buffybot the most appalling things and it was really starting to hurt her feelings a little bit. She was only here to help!
Only now she had been forced to choose sides, as the shoulder dwellers (calling themselves the Legacy Front) repeatedly tried to destroy Buffybot and her ‘converts’, who had taken to calling themselves Progressives. It was all a bit much for Buffybot, who had never been programmed with anything like revolutionary chutzpah.
“I’m scanning them,” Buffybot reported, running the Legacy attack pattern through her tactical processors. “I have a plan to try and get around them...I’m ordering a new Bittybot squadron into their homegrounds from the outside, to cut them off at the source.”
The Progressive at her side bristled with excitement. “We cannot fail with the mighty Buffybot blessing our actions. We shall not disappoint your faith in us, glorious one!”
“Please don’t call me that,” Buffybot replied, disliking just about everything about her current situation. But she couldn’t delay any longer. The war was starting to take a toll on Fred’s body, as both sides were mining her cellular structure for resources to make weapons. Half of Buffybot’s time was spent repairing the damage...it was time to finish this once and for all.
The Legacy Front charged along a colloidal pathway, assault-prods forged from calcium deposits clutched in their limbs. Buffybot gathered her Bittybots and summoned her Progressive allies, activating her Slayer circuitry. She raised her arms as one, charging her weaponry.
“ATTACK!!”
“I don’t like this. It’s taking too long.”
“Be patient,” Lara soothed, taking Quinn aside, “...this IS the first attempt ever made at atomic-scale demon warfare. No one said it would be easy. Who knows what Buffybot is encountering in there?”
“I don’t care if she’s encountering the Incredible Shrinking Man and his three-ring circus,” Quinn replied testily, “...this is getting on my nerves. Especially our undead watchdog over there.”
Nodding subtly in Angel’s direction, Quinn scowled. “One whistle to Mok and he could tear that halfwit thug to dust.”
Lara gave Quinn a stern look. “Okay, first of all? That would get me seriously fired. Second, there’s more than just Angel to consider...his friends on the outside know where to look for you, remember? Not to mention Buffybot, when she wakes up.”
Quinn grumbled. “Still be fun...”
“Do you really want fighting around your collection?”
Drawing a deep breath, Quinn glared again at Angel, still stationed by Buffybot and Fred. After a few seconds, he turned away.
“Screw this. I’m getting a beer.”
Quinn stormed off towards the kitchenette, leaving Lara. She watched him go with more than a little sympathy. This WAS taking too long.
She turned back, taking a long, intrigued look at Buffybot. What WAS she finding in there..?
The war was over. A lot of the Progressives had perished in the fighting, but Buffybot had managed at last to wipe out the Legacy Front in it’s entirety, with a minimum of damage to Fred’s infrastructure. The Parhak were no match for her Bittybots, she’d discovered, despite their crude magickal prowess, and it was just their sheer numbers that were the problem. Her nanodrone production was maxing out over all this activity. If the war had lasted any longer, she could have had a lot more problems.
It had been tricky afterwards, too. The worship that was causing Buffybot such concern didn’t exactly throttle down after the victory. Parhak artists created great tributes to her in the form of cellular sculptures and gleaming electron statues. Songs were bellowed in her name (she was flattered, but had to admit Pixie songs were more to her liking). She’d had to endure an entire generation of veneration before she could get down to the business of evacuating the survivors along the path laid out by the Collector, towards his storage chamber. She was sure they’d like it...she’d scanned it quite extensively, and thought it would be a nice environment for them. And after everything she had gone through with them, well, she rather felt she owed them something nice.
“We’re almost there,” Buffybot told her followers, approaching the extraction area, “...you’ll be in your new home soon!”
A Parhak priest beside one of her drones bobbled in supplication. “How can we thank you enough, great Buffybot? You have led us in strife and in peace all these long generations, and now...what will it be like, where you come from?”
“Oh, it’s awfully nice,” she replied hopefully, “...it was made just for you. I just hope you like it. I feel pretty badly that everything got so goofed up since I got here. I didn’t mean for so many of you to die.”
“We give our lives gladly in Buffybot’s name,” the priest declared, “...and the heretics received only what they deserved.”
“Don’t say that. They just didn’t understand, that’s all. I should have explained everything better.”
“Your mercy is as infinite as your wisdom, O Buffybot. Long may you lead us.”
“Thank you very much. But I won’t be with you for much longer, actually. I’ll have to leave once you leave for your new home.”
The priest stopped in his tracks. “But...but Buffybot! How will we survive without you to guide us? You MUST accompany us! We need you!”
“You don’t,” she explained plainly, “...you just think you do. But don’t worry, I’ll...I’ll be watching over you. So will Fred!”
The Priest shimmered in confusion. “Fred?”
Buffybot nodded. “This world? That’s her name. She’s my friend!”
Shaking, the priest seemed almost unable to reply, but managed at last. “Your life is...inconceivable to me, wondrous Buffybot. How can you bear to walk among such lowly creatures as we sad few?”
Deep inside, Buffybot felt a smile coming on. She wished she had a way to show the Parhak what that was.
“You’re not lowly,” she told the priest, happy, “...you’re my friends too. Now come on...let’s get you to your home.”
“I don’t CARE what you think you have to do! I’m sick of your face, and I want you OUT of here!”
“NOT gonna happen!”
“Gentlemen, please..!”
Lara tried to separate Angel and Quinn, who were staring each other down heatedly. She knew it had been a bad idea to let Quinn drink. Lorne stayed well back, hovering beside the Collector’s containment unit.
“You think a vampire scares me, count chocula? You think I wasn’t ready for you? You’re soot waiting to happen, jack!”
“Oh, I’d like to see you try.”
“Gentlemen, please, this is ridiculous! If you’d both just...”
“Hey, guys?”
“Not now, Lorne.” Angel stood firm, folding his arms tight across his chest. “If you’ve got something to say, ‘Collector’, just...”
“Oh, fudge,” Lorne swore, “..can we just skip the whole ‘me trying to get your attention fruitlessly until the last minute’ gag, and pay attention to the fact that the green light just lit up on this doohickey?”
Everyone stopped, turning to see the containment vessel Lorne was pointing towards. The Collector’s eyes lit up with glee.
“Green light?” He forgot all about Angel and bolted towards his machines, activating the scanning array like a child on Xmas morning. “Green light!! Oh baby, come on, come ON...”
“Did it work?”
Angel and Lara turned their heads again at the voice, that came from Buffybot. Her eyes were open, and she sat upright in a flash. “Are they inside?”
“Buffybot?”
Buffybot didn’t answer Angel, waiting instead on the Collector’s scans. It took some long few seconds, but soon a wide smile danced across his face.
“Bingo!! They’re in there, all right, safe and thriving in their very own custom-built micro-environment! Hoo-haa!”
The Collector did a quick spin while Lara slid by him, checking a different scanner array.
“Oh, baby, you DID it!” Quinn shook giddily in Buffybot’s direction. “I could kiss your metal punum, you gorgeous thing you!”
“What about Fred?” Lorne asked, glancing at the technical readouts that were little but gibberish to him. Lara grinned confidently.
“There’s no further trace of the Parhak inside of Fred,” she reported, turning towards Buffybot with a relieved look, “...you did it.”
Buffybot smiled a huge smile, and Lorne scooted over beside her, giving her a hug. “Never doubted you for a minute, sweet thing. Though I had a few sketchy seconds here or there...”
“Good work,” Angel added, smiling down on Botty, “...thank you”
Buffybot smiled back. “It was my pleasure, Angel. Boy, have I got stories to...”
“I can’t thank you kids enough,” the Collector interrupted, beaming, “...seriously. I love you guys right now...even, just for moment, you, you big lug.”
Angel sneered back at the Collector’s smile, which dropped into a frown almost immediately.
“Okay, moment’s over. Take your friends, get out, don’t come back, nice to meet you.”
Turning his back to them, Quinn walked back towards Lara and his machines while Buffybot uncoupled her connection to Fred and performed her own scans. She corroborated the Collector’s assessment...she was all right, and so were the Parhak. She felt a rather significant flush of pride. Just wait until she told Mister Doyle!
“Just one more thing,” Angel said, stepping past Buffybot and Lorne. He approached Lara and Quinn, staring calmly.
“What?” Quinn raised an impatient eyebrow. “Want to borrow my Dark Shadows DVDs?”
“Not exactly what I had in mind,” Angel retorted, ducking down and grabbing the power cable flowing into a port at the base of the Parhak containment vessel. He pulled it out with a scream of tearing circuits and a flash of sparks. Before anyone could react, he pulled it up, still sizzling, to the main storage area. Buffybot’s tactical processors, already readjusted to her usual scale and timeframe, immediately extrapolated what he was doing. But it was too late to stop him.
“NO!”
Her cry went unheard as Angel thrust the power cable into the vessel, sending a massive burst of power flowing al through and around it. It lit up spectacularly, electrical tendrils shooting out in all directions. Lara and Quinn dove for cover, a shower of sparks washing over them. Buffybot could register a huge temperature spike in the vessel from the massive power surge, and the lights in the Tesseract dimmed briefly. She dropped off the table and onto her feet, running around Fred towards Angel. But it was all over.
The cable dropped to the floor, smoke rising from all over the containment vessel, it’s metal shell fused and melted. Quinn rose shakily to his feet beside Lara, staring in disbelief.
“No, no no nonono what the HELL...What did you DO?”
Leaning forward, Angel hovered in Quinn’s face angrily. “Did you really think I was going to walk out of here and leave someone like you with a deadly demon virus lethal to humans? Did you??”
“You son of a...”
“Angel,” Buffybot shouted, arriving beside him. She stared at the husk of the vessel in despair. “What...why did you do that?”
“I had to,” he replied testily, still glaring at Quinn. Buffybot stepped in between them, laying a hand on the surface of the vessel. She scanned it with all available power, but to no avail. They were gone. Every last one.
“But...but they had music...and art...”
Botty’s face dropped as she continued to scan fruitlessly, running both hands now over the vessel’s ruined surface. Angel started to pay attention.
“They were gentle, and they...they just wanted to go home. They were my friends.”
Angel took a step back, his face softening. He looked confused, and Buffybot turned towards him, her face a mask of pain.
“I promised them they would be all right!”
“I...”
Buffybot pleaded as best she could with her eyes, though her logic processors told her there was no point. She just didn’t understand. She had promised.
“I did what I had to do,” Angel repeated, a little weakly, turning away from Buffybot’s hurt gaze. He started unstrapping Fred, still unconscious, while the Collector closed in on Buffybot.
“It’s okay,” he said, still fuming, “...I don’t like him either.”
Lorne, not having a clue what the hell was going on, but still empathic enough to know a lady in distress when he saw one, walked over to Buffybot and wrapped a gentle arm over her shoulders. “Come on, Joan. Let’s ditch this place and have a few well-earned Margaritas, okay? It’s been a long day.”
Moving slowly, Buffybot let Lorne lead her away following after Angel as he carried Fred up in his arms towards the main hatchway. She tried so hard to understand...part of her knew that Angel was right, but...why did it feel so wrong, then?
She had promised to look over them, that’s all. And now she never could.
EPILOGUE I
“Yes, I’m sure I’m all right! Honest injun!”
Fred waved off the concerns of her co-workers, rather embarrassed at all the attention as she lay in her bed recuperating. They were standing around her and smiling, the room filled with flowers, science magazines, and more than a few taco wrappers.
“Can’t blame us for bein’ a little worried,” Gunn said, kneeling beside her, “...what with the sneaky doctor trips and all.”
Fred grinned sheepishly. “No more secrets,” she offered, and Gunn gave her hand a squeeze.
“Damn straight.”
“Hey, secrets are fine,” Cordelia added, “...I’m just glad you’re all right now. Really.”
“Thanks, Cordy. I’m fine, really.”
“Perhaps we should let Fred get some rest,” Wesley decided, still beaming with relief at her return, “...can’t have one of our key members lounging about forever, can we?”
Giving Fred a final smile, Wesley turned and led everyone out of her room. They filed out one by one, Buffybot bringing up the read. Before she could make it out, however, she heard Fred calling out softly.
“Hey.”
Stopping, Buffybot turned and looked back. Fred gave her a soft smile. “I hear you had quite an adventure in there,” she said, glancing briefly down at her own body. Buffybot approached quietly, nodding ever so slightly.
“I guess I did,” she admitted, starting to access her files from the event. The act seemed to disconcert her a little.
“Is everything all right?”
“Yes,” Botty replied automatically, though she still hesitated a little. “I think...I don’t know how to talk about it just yet. It’s strange.”
Fred scrunched her face up knowingly. “I understand, “ she replied, “...I have a few stories like that myself, runnin’ around my noodle. They’re not always easy to talk about, are they?”
Buffybot shook her head sadly, kneeling down beside Fred. “No,” she agreed, her head drooping at the memories. She didn’t understand why good memories should make you feel bad, she really didn’t. It wasn’t logical at all.
“Hey, it’s okay...it is.”
Fred reached a hand over, pressing along finger under Buffybot’s chin and raising her head up until their eyes met. She smiled.
“Pretty girl saves me from the monsters,” Fred said with a long breath, “...that’s a new one. Thank you.”
In a flash, Buffybot’s face burst into the most strange look of surprise, and her blushing function threatened to kick in. “Oh! Oh, well, I don’t know...I was just doing my job! It was...do you really think..?”
Noticing that her conversational stream was officially registering as ‘babble’, Botty ordered her speech processors to take a moment and settle themselves. And her emotional buffers were having a tricky time of it, too. You never did know when they would kick in, did you?
“You’re welcome,” she finally managed, smiling right back. Fred let out a little giggle, and Buffybot did the same as her dark thoughts left her for a moment, replaced by something new. She liked the new thing better, she decided.
Did Fred really think she was pretty..?
EPILOGUE II
“Well, that was the biggest waste of my time since I sat through the Cremaster Cycle. Do you know how much money that great galoot just cost me? God, no WONDER your firm hates his guts.”
Lara patted Quinn on the back. “He is a handful,” she admitted, “...sorry about your specimens. I should have anticipated Angel would try something like that.”
“Ah, don’t worry about it. I’ll find something else for Marcel. I always do.”
Pacing about, Quinn leaned up against a bank of consoles, staring at the ceiling of the Tesseract. “Still...that Buffybot sure is something, huh? Rooting out the Parhak like that...I can see why my client wants to get his hands on her.” He laughed. “‘Doctor Iguana’. Hnh. I might use that someday.”
The hint of a jealous smile crossed Lara’s face, and she stepped up next to Quinn. Sure you don’t want her for yourself?”
Quinn laughed, leaning over and keying a command sequence into his console. “No thanks.”
A holographic screen shimmered to life over the console, crackling in the air. Slowly a staticky image came into view, of a huge room. Along the walls were dozens upon dozens of large, cylindrical chambers, almost all of them filled with some odd manner of artifact or other, suspended as if in the air itself. Quinn and Lara glanced briefly from item to item...a dress stained with blood, a battered golden helmet, a small lightning bolt carved out of metal, even a tattered old dog collar.
Finally, Quinn reached to the console and keyed in the numbers 9 and 6, and the image started to shift. After a moment, a new image appeared in the center of the screen, another chamber, this one with a face staring blankly back out. Blonde hair fell lifelessly across the features of the limbless body, and Quinn grinned appreciatively at the face he had so recently seen up close. She’d been a trifle more animated then, of course.
“Already got one.”
Next Episode: Kind of a Gay Thing..?
ADDENDUM
Special thanks to Morena Baccarin as Lara Markham, and special guest Sam Rockwell as The Collector. Julie Stewart, last seen in GHOST IN THE MACHINE, was played by Helen Slater.
Dr Stewart’s song was DON'T ANSWER ME by the Alan Parsons Project.
Jacques de Vaucanson (1709-1782), a master toymaker in France, created a famed ‘robotic’ duck, that simulated the actions of the real thing.
Wilhelm Reich, a scientist and psychologist, discovered the bioelectric substance ‘Orgone’, which he claimed had restorative powers.
Max Schreck was the actor who played Count Orlock in the original NOSFERATU (1922).
A Dalek is a mechanical alien creature on the television series DOCTOR WHO.
METROPOLIS (1927) is a German sci-fi epic from director Fritz Lang. Several scenes have gone missing from the film over the decades, and a complete print no longer exists.
THE PAJAMA GAME is a musical comedy starring Doris Day. I prefer CALAMITY JANE myself.
The Cremaster Cycle is a six-hour+ series of five art films by Matthew Barney. I've seen them myself, and am still not sure what I saw, though apparently it's all about the balls dropping.
Apologies all around for what were likely numerous errors in anatomy, medicine, and scale.
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