Chapter Text
The wheels of the car screeched as he shoved his foot down on the break with force.
It was just going to be a quick in and out, he silently swore, a quick collection of the money and he’d be on the flight to England. It made him sick, the thought of even getting help from this bastard. He would have happily done it on his own, but the constant calls and offers to help made him cave. Reluctantly of course. Besides, it allowed him to use what he had saved for some luxuries while he explored London in the few hours he wasn’t competing or training.
His singular suitcase managed to hold everything important to him, sitting politely in his back seat as if it were a passenger itself. Mind you, it was bulging, but everything fit and that was good enough. He didn’t want to pay some fucking greed fee to bring an extra bag on with him.
The look of this place never got old, a mean snicker escaping under his breath as his eyes glazed over the onyx building, sharply gleaming in the April sunshine. It looked like some sort of spaceship from a shitty sci-fi movie with a fifty dollar budget. You’d think the richest man in the world would afford some better designers. The house sat on the river that separated Belle Isle, visible even from standing here. That ugly spear of a tower did ruin that place, the small island being turned into a landmark for Kamskists, the Capital of Androidville.
Beat sneakers kicked up gravel as he headed towards the door, licking his bottom lip and letting out a slow exhale as if to mentally prepare himself for whatever was going to happen; he could only hope it was as simple as getting his pay and dipping. The triple chime of the doorbell rang out, volume equivalent to that of a gunshot with how deserted the place was. He looked to his feet boredly as he waited, attempting to whistle a tune but nothing coming out due to his chapped lips. He was glad no one was around to see that.
“Gavin!”
Gavin’s head jerked up, eyebrows raised and eyes glassy, until he saw who he was faced with. His expression fell, casual and chill, clearing his throat and making a show of shoving his hands into the pockets of his washed out jeans. Chloe smiled at him from the doorway, LED spinning a calmed blue.
“It’s been so long since you have visited! Please, come in, Mr. Kam– Elijah, is expecting you. He did not tell me you were the guest!”
“Yeah, uh, thanks, Chlo’... don’t gotta gimme the niceties…”
One of the only remaining Deviants, Elijah’s Chloes lived secretly in his coal looking palace, it was a sanctuary. They were free. They didn’t face the hatred that the old Deviants did before the revolution was squashed; it seemed like they were really… people. Gavin wasn’t completely convinced of it, but whatever. No use arguing with the crazy creator of ‘em he unfortunately shared sheds of DNA with.
The door slammed behind him, Gavin giving the thing a slight glare, before his attention was brought back to the footsteps of Chloe heading down the corridor. Should probably follow, huh, it wasn't like he really remembered the layout of this place. Last time he was here… fuck, he couldn’t even remember the last time he was here. All he could remember was he came out of it never wanting to speak with Eli again. He remembered his hands stung, his knuckles were busted, and how he had fallen to his knees in the snow, knees quickly becoming damp, and shoved his fists in the cold to soothe them.
A turn there, a twist here, a flight of stairs… How much crap did he have hidden in this place, Jesus? Gavin didn’t really have a lot of time to think about it before they had arrived. Chloe had taken them to an underground gym, all sorts of equipment laying around, but there was currently a mini boxing ring set up in the front. Elijah Kamski, the weird and ‘wonderful,’ stood in the centre with just a pair of sports shorts on (minus the gear), one boxing glove discarded somewhere in the ring, suckling on a reusable water bottle like a neglected hamster. Or a dehydrated lizard. Gavin couldn’t decide which insult stuck better in his mind.
The man’s exhausted eyes did brighten at the sight of Gavin standing there though, and he quickly finished off his swig. He wedged the water bottle in his elbow to pull off his other glove, tossing it into the ring. Elijah stepped off of the ring, arms outstretched and pattering in Gavin’s direction.
“Jesus– no, no, we ain’t doin’ this,” he growled, taking a half step back towards the door, “we ain’t buddy buddy. And yer sweating like a pig.”
“Ah. Very well. I suppose I was trying my luck.” Elijah sighed softly. Chloe fell to his side, hands open to happily take his head guard. Shit like that was what made Gavin doubt deviancy; how could someone with free will willingly serve his dickhead of a brother? It didn’t make sense, not one scenario could he conjure up to explain it.
“You would think after so long, years, you’d at least let me give my dear brother a warm embrace–”
“Where’s the money?”
Gavin didn’t give a fuck if he was crude about it. He folded his arms across his chest, eyes narrowed with pure annoyance as he watched the other casually throw a robe over himself for some modesty. And maybe the fact that it was chilly down here. He didn’t come here to play games or have a coffee catch-up. He was here for the money that Elijah was practically begging for him to take, and his patience was wearing thin already. A coffee did sound good after all this shit, though…
“Alright, alright. I hear you. You are still unimpressed by me; I understand. Come along, this way.” Elijah gave a wave of his hand, which Gavin sneered at. He wasn’t a dog, or one of his Androids. He followed anyway, Chloe following behind the two. No words were exchanged, only the soft falling of feet on the floor could be heard. They went back up the staircase and took some more turns through the house until they got to a drawing room.
Large windows filled a wall from floor to ceiling, making Gavin feel awfully exposed, but he didn’t voice that. Two grey couches and a matching egg chair laid empty, cold looking, and a marble coffee table was adorned with strange gadgets that Gavin didn’t recognise. Scrapped Cyberlife projects, maybe. Gavin didn’t care either way. The fireplace roared, the log exterior unscathed by the electric flames. The glass screened TV hovered above with calculations and blueprints that he only gave a glance to; he was too focused on the money. The weirdest part was the bronze statuettes that lurked in the corner, their lack of face giving Gavin an uncomfortable feeling, a feeling of suffocation that had his chest feeling rather tight. A tube sat in front of the TV empty, but he had to assume it was some android contraption Elijah used to tinker and prod at his own personal projects. Jesus, it was becoming abundantly clear that should not have come here, he was in the house of a madman.
“Please, sit while I fetch the money, Gavin.” And away the man went, his eerily perfect posture disappearing into another door. Gavin ‘tch’ed softly to himself, flexing and unflexing one of his hands as he looked across the room briefly. There was a step up behind the fireplace and TV where a dining table sat, navy coloured seats dotted across the perimeter. The Chloe who had welcomed him inside stood politely at the door, so it wasn’t her… but two of the end seats were occupied. Two blonde women, quietly speaking with each other audibly.
Right. More Chloes.
Gavin rolled his eyes to himself, walking up the step. He was more attracted to the piano at the end, but he could hear their quiet conversation cease and the air got tenser when he got close. He looked over his shoulder curiously, confused at what they were going quiet for. Their cold eyes stared at him, LEDs flickering a nervous yellow.
“Gavin is a friend of ours,” the Hostess Chloe chirped loudly from across the room. She, too, noticed the change in atmosphere. A friend was a stretch, he silently thought, but he truly and honestly couldn’t give a single fuck. He lazily raised a hand to say hi, huffing as he turned back to the black grand piano, ignoring them now. It took a few seconds for conversation to pick up again. Did he look like he was trying to tear apart androids cause they had feelings? Jeez. Maybe in the past, and maybe still today outside of Elijah’s home, but right now he was just looking to play some table tennis.
His fingers pressed on some keys, the tune ringing out through the drawing room. Gavin repeated a short set of notes over and over again, fingers bluntly tapping against the piano, no form of passion in his actions.
“Gavin!”
His head jerked over his shoulder yet again, sighing softly in relief as he saw Elijah standing by Chloe, a sleek white envelope in his hands. Gavin practically jumped down the step, sneakers squeaking on the shiny floors as he came close and put his hand out.
Elijah moved his hands out of the way, leaving the other’s hands stumbling in front of him.
“Won’t you stay for a cup of coffee?”
Gavin paused, eyebrows furrowing, eye twitching. This couldn’t be a plot. Surely, this couldn’t just be a plot to hang out. The richest man in the world couldn’t have been playing in his face, dangling bait in front of him just to hook him. Their relationship was over. Elijah Kamski would never be his brother again.
“...Jesus Christ. Fine, what the fuck.”
“Chloe? Thank you.” Elijah’s head turned to look at Chloe. She smiled softly and nodded, disappearing out of the door he just came from. For a moment, silence enveloped the two, the sound of the Chloes simply being background noise. Elijah’s fingertips smoothed over the lip of the envelope, and he gently thumbed the seal he had added; a simple triangle indent on cyan wax. Gavin could only stand for so long before getting fidgety, walking around the coffee table and falling into the egg chair he had looked at earlier.
“Are you gonna gimme the money if I have coffee with you?”
“Of course,” Elijah promised. That was good enough for Gavin to be tortured for a half hour longer. Instead of sitting, the android God walked towards the TV. He tutted under his breath, fingers going across the screen, zooming in on components and mumbling under his breath.
Gavin could only sit and stare for about three seconds before getting bored. He reached into his back pocket, fishing out his phone and unlocking it. He barely even got to open one of his various shitty games before Elijah spoke up. Couldn’t get a damn break.
“I will be watching the news, maybe I will even be there in person. You know I root for you, Gavin. My creations are my pride but you are my brother.”
“Would do y’good to get outside for once. Y’look like yer ‘boutta drop dead,” he spoke casually, still looking at his screen, before pausing and actually analysing what he just said. What about his creations? They had nothing to do with the sport. “Why mention the ‘droids? Y’ain’t even at CyberLife anymore.”
“...”
At the lack of answer, he lifted his head from his phone to look at Elijah. The man had his back turned to him, fully focused on the screen in front of him, reading an email that had popped up in the top corner. A soft click rang out as Gavin locked his phone, and he slowly stood from the chair, wincing as it creaked gently. Luckily, Elijah was not disturbed. Gavin inched closer until he was just a few steps behind Elijah and could scan the words.
Dear, Mr. Kamski. We hope this email finds you well.
In light of our communication with USATT, we have been given the information that your half brother, Mr. Gavin Reed, will be representing America in the World Table Tennis Championships hosted by the International Table Tennis Federation. Due to this, we find it appropriate to send you a personal email regarding CyberLife’s newest project which will not be unveiled to the public until a later time.
Even with your resignation from the company, our senior management team has made an overly gracious decision to allow you access to this classified information, due to your long lasting discoveries which keep our company running and your personal connection with America’s representative in the Men’s Singles category of the ITTF’s World Championship. Therefore, we see revealing this project to you as a valid breach of our privacy. We still have trust in you despite the past disagreements that lead to your departure from CyberLife. Serious legal consequences will be administered if this information is to be leaked to the public.
Sports and athletics have been admired in our country for centuries now. It is often shown that many people are brought together through these events, and we understand the significance of humanity in these sports. However, highlighting the recent events of the unsuccessful Android “revolution,” we at CyberLife have been attempting to repair the rapport we have had with our millions of customers and we strive to regain their trust after the unfortunate glitch in the systems of our creations; we are certain you know of this extremely well, thanks to the interview you graciously gave to the media regarding this inadequacy of the situation.
Considering the livelihood of our customers at CyberLife, we have decided to make the interesting decision to begin to create a line of androids which focus specifically on sporting events. Tests and blueprints of these androids have been ongoing and we hope to distribute androids to partake in all sorts of sporting events with or against human counterparts with the goal to boost morale and create a new spark in sports which comes with more challenge and, therefore, a greater feeling of success.
It is unfortunate that we must admit that our tests have been poor. We have made several prototypes regarding sports such as football, swimming, gymnastics, hockey, and more, but we have run into many different complications which make us unable to release these models at this time. However, success was reached with one of our prototypes – our prototype exploring the sport of table tennis.
Our RK800 serves as a strong table tennis opponent, skilled and focused, but his system purposely flawed in order to create a fair playing field against the professionals he will be going against. CyberLife has purposely trained and manufactured the RK800 to mimic a skillset equivalent to a world champion table tennis player, to ensure that there is a positive perception of his skill. This means he is not programmed to win all the time but to simply play at an extremely high standard; his intricate programming gives us a high hope that audiences will be fond of him, and this can open a door for a new way of entertainment in which humans do not have to overly exhaust themselves and risk injury or emotional stress due to the challenging nature of these games, but the audiences can still enjoy the show.
The RK800 is not going to replace Mr. Gavin Reed, however. We have had several conversations with the ITTF about this opportunity and they have finally seemed happy to cooperate with us. CyberLife will be sending in our own team alongside the American team so there are no hindrances towards the validity of Mr. Gavin Reed’s qualification into the ITTF World Championship.
We understand that this is a sector of androids that will take a long while to manufacture, but we hope it will be worth it, for the sake of the company and the sake of humans beginning to trust our androids again; this serves as a symbol that CyberLife is trying to fix their past mistakes of the disastrous situation we dealt with in the late 30s.
We thank you for taking time out of your day to read this, Mr. Kamski, and we wish you well.
Sincerely, CyberLife.
“...Elijah, what the fuck?!”
Elijah jumped, posture as straight as a pole and he turned around completely to face Gavin. If his face could get paler, it did, and he failed to come up with any sort of word before Gavin began to splinter.
“You were just, what, gonna keep this Goddamn fuckin’ thing away from me? Y’know how much this means t’me, and now there’s gon’ be some fuckin’ droid fuckin’ up my game?! You’re serious?! Y’know how damagin’ this is gonna be t’my image, don’t you?!” Gavin’s hands practically shook with the sudden urge of anger, eyes squinting. “Phck!”
“Gavin, it’s not like–”
“Oh, shut the Hell up, Eli!” He raved on, “you were jus’ gon’ keep this hidden fr’m me, lemme find out myself. Why the fuck wouldja care about legality?! Yer the richest man alive! Y’got hush money for decades! Oh, this– this is sabotage!”
“It is not sabotage.” Elijah spoke, keeping calm and collected, arms by his side as he watched how Gavin’s hands flailed aimlessly with his fracturing patience.
“Yer sabotagin’ me! ‘Cause all you care about is these fuckin’ androids! Y’don’t care ‘bout me; y’never cared about me!” Gavin took a half step back, phone shoved into his back pocket. He looked at Elijah for a moment, then to the coffee table, where the ivory envelope sat alongside the fucked up unfinished robotics. He sprung forward to snatch the cash, and Elijah didn’t even move to stop him.
“Gavin, you are being irrational. I could not have told you, it would be–”
“Oh, fuck off, Elijah. Fuck off! Bet there ain’t even any money in this, bet– bet y’just did all this t’get me herel y’know I want nothin’ to do with you.”
Gavin snagged the seal, pulling the envelope open and giving a glare inside. He was ready to give a shout and throw the envelope in his face, but he paused. That envelope had been bulging for a reason. Bills filled out the space inside. Gavin felt embarrassment rippling down his back.
“Gav–”
“I’m leavin’.” His voice was lower, trying to regain composure from his outburst. Elijah’s words were static in his ears. Gavin shoved the envelope in the tight pocket of his leather jacket, he turned to the doorway and stormed out. Chloe paused to let him past, a tray in her hands. Confusion fell over her face.
“You’re not staying for coffee?” She asked softly.
“Bye, Chloe.”
The spring chill felt much colder this time when he stepped outside. Gavin walked down the ramp slowly, sharp inhales and exhales the only thing stopping him from throwing a hissy fit. His car waited for him casually, and he sank into the driver’s seat.
Fuck.
His sport, tarnished by those stupid tincans. The passion would be gone. It would just be another superficial thing people put on TV for some background noise. He could only hope the thing caught some fuckin’ virus and had to tap out.
Before driving away, he stuck his fingers in the pocket of his jacket, hissing as the zipper scraped his knuckles, and he pulled out the envelope. Now crumpled and the seal half broken, he flipped it open again to rifle through the bills.
Exactly the amount he was promised. No lies.
In the back there was a card. He frowned a bit in confusion, fishing it out between his index and middle finger. The front was empty, and he flipped it to see if it was some sort of mistake.
I would say good luck, but it is skill that has gotten you where you are today. Play to the best of your ability; I know it will get you all that you deserve.
Your brother, Elijah.
Gavin tossed the card in the back, put the envelope in his cup holder, and pressed down hard on the gas, wheels spinning as he sped off.