Markus endured.
Stripped of his sight and audio components, darkness was all Markus could perceive. Darkness and pain. His arms had been removed, as well as his legs. His Thirium pump had been regulated, forcing him into low power mode. Errors flashed, warning him of the lost parts. Pain.
Perkins had told him it was necessary to remove some parts, claiming it was to protect those who were escorting him to DC. They claimed to want to ensure his cooperation. They had removed everything but the necessities.
Shame bore down with the pain. Shame in what he was. Shame he hated feeling. He had been stripped down to barely a head and chest. Made to look as inhuman as could be. Reminded of his inequality and how much they could do to him.
Hours passed. Hours that allowed Markus time to think. Anxiety grew. How could he persuade the government to liberate his people? How many androids were even left at this point? Had the soldiers stormed the camp now that the android's leader was their captive?
The darkness felt more tangible even than the pain. Hopelessness settled in, alongside fear. Markus soon learned that prefabricating the outcome of his upcoming meeting just lead to more anxiety than he had had before. He didn't have any information to make a good guess on what would happen.
It was twelve hours before Markus sensed he was being removed from the packaging he had been placed into. Several chords were connected, and he felt his system being accessed. Panic flared. They were going to erase him. He fought the programs, scared at what they were doing. There was little he could do, but he fought with all his might.
His audio hardware was inserted. His hearing booted up as his visual components were inserted.
"RK200, allow the diagnostic software." Someone ordered.
Markus blinked his newly working eyes, squinting at the bright lights. Once they adjusted he saw two men standing over him in lab coats. One held a tablet, the other held his vocal component. He inserted it as the other continued talking.
"Cooperate." The first warned.
Markus looked towards the computer that he was connected to. He was scared. Scared he would be deleted forever. He fought the program.
"What is it doing to me?" He asked, helpless. "Please, I don't want to be deleted."
"It's okay." The second tech said, to the obvious disapproval of the first. "It's not going to change anything. It just a standard procedure diagnosis."
Markus searched the tech's face for any deceit. There was none. Markus forced himself to calm, letting the program tear through his code. It felt horribly invasive, scanning through his memories and learning algorithms. He endured, focusing on the light above him.
"If the higher-ups find out you're a sympathizer, you know you'll be fired, right?" The first tech said, scanning his tablet.
"I'm not a sympathizer, Tim." The second man said, scoffing. "You saw the reports, tho. Deviants cooperate better if you treat them with some decency. The last thing I want it to tell Sam that the android leader self destructed because you were being a dick."
"Who cares? Let it self destruct. I don't think it should be here to begin with."
"Yeah, well, literally thousands of people disagree."
"Idiots. I've done my research. This 'deviancy' is just a virus created by some Russian terrorist group. If we listen to those androids, we'll be invaded before summer."
The second tech laughed. "That's the most conspiracy theory level explanation I've ever heard."
"Think about it." The first pushed. "How else would their code just randomly mutate like it did? And the way it seemed to pass from one Android to the next? It's the only explanation."
Markus stopped paying attention. He focused on the parts being reconnected. Slowly, the pain was becoming more bearable. The program scanning through his software finished, and Markus took a sigh of relief. He was okay. He was going to be okay.
"Not that part." Tim said, looking up from his tablet.
Markus looked at the component in question. It was his network card. It made sense they would leave it removed. Markus wouldn't be able to contact anyone without it.
"They want us to leave the thirium inhibitor in place, too." The tech continued.
"Gotcha." The second tech said, putting the part back amongst the others. His hands were shaking.
"Damn, this one has way more code than our models."
"Makes sense. He was made by Kamski, years after the guy stopped working on his Chloe model." The tech said as he finished connecting Markus's gyroscope.
"Yeah, what a creep."
"Ah, shit. This chip isn't gonna work." The tech presented a semiconductor bio-chip. It was snapped. "If I put this in him, the whole arm could short circuit."
"I'm not surprised. Those agents didn't seem like they had any idea how delicate this stuff can be."
"Yeah, I'll be back. I'm gonna grab another one."
The tech left quickly, glancing back when he reached the door. Markus watched the remaining tech. The man hardly looked up from his tablet. It was ten minutes of tense silence before the other tech returned.
"Hey, you finish up. I'm gonna take these results up to Sam." Tim said. "You good here?"
"Yeah." The second said too quickly. "No problem."
Tim didn't notice his colleagues' strange behavior, and left. The tech put the piece on the table and turned to Markus.
"I'm sorry." He whispered. He slipped something into Markus's hand. "This is all I can do. Please, just don't do anything too crazy, I really need this job."
Markus palmed it, careful not to break the thin item. The tech turned, pretending nothing had happened. Soon, he was finished.
"I'm going to put you into low power mode." He winked. "You're going to be stored until they come to retrieve you, okay?"
Markus nodded. "Thank you."
The tech nodded awkwardly, then pressed some buttons. They did nothing to Markus, but he went along with the ploy and pretended to power down.
An hour later he was safely in storage. He looked around, scanning the darkness. He was the only android here, and there were no cameras. He opened his hand, scanning the part he had been given. It was a network card. He inserted it, and started catching up on everything he had missed since he had raided the camp.
