Yes. [And then, quickly:] I don't think there's anything still wrong with me, but the broadcast called for everyone who went through the Ingress during the last two cycles.
[Alan is surprised by the bluntness of the program’s words. He knows Rinzler isn’t the type to trust most people—but the way he’d so readily volunteered the information makes Alan wonder if there’s more to it than baseline wariness.]
You don’t trust them to check your code? [That would hardly be shocking—or objectionable at all, really.] Or you don’t trust them in general?
Well, if you have a bad feeling about them, I’d like to know why. Do you think they have any ill-intent with these decontamination centers? [He could chalk it up to Rinzler’s typical wariness, but given the stakes, he’d rather have more information than less. Blindly trusting a seemingly benevolent authority is what got him into this mess in the first place.
And then, a few seconds later:] Would you rather someone else check your code?
[He doesn't trust them. He doesn't trust them, and he doesn't know what they're after, and they use words like parasite and contamination as if that on its own might not be lethal. As if talking and cleaning would make any difference to a virus.
Either they're incompetent, or they're lying. Rinzler's inclined to assume both.
[Alan doesn’t know so much about the administration’s security, but he understands Rinzler’s reservations about their intentions. Even after months of living on Thisavrou, Alan still doesn’t know much about their government, or their contingencies in situations such as this. He’s putting a lot on faith believing that these “decontamination centers” are what they say they are. And yet, ignoring the mandate to report in isn’t exactly a “safe” option either.]
Not going has its own risks. [Someone could report on him, for one. And if what was done to them on the asteroid is contagious, Alan risks the well-being of those around him by not reporting for decontamination.
As preoccupying as those worries are, Rinzler’s next line of text throws up an entirely different kind of red flag. Rinzler already made it clear he wouldn’t report to the Thisavrou authorities and this is Alan’s first time hearing of the “error.” There’s only one other person he could be talking about.]
[Not going does. And Rinzler knows, and knows moreover that Alan-one understands user illness and its risks far better than he does. Still. He doesn't trust the admins.]
Do you know if he’s going to? [Alan remembers that Clu promised not to reset Rinzler. But it’s a struggle not to doubt his sincerity, and even if Clu does keep his promise, there are countless, subtler changes he could make without anyone to oversee his work.]
[If he's going to. Rinzler stares at the message for a long moment, wondering how (or if) he can make his user understand.
Rinzler is Clu's. It was possible (and miraculous enough) his admin would leave Rinzler his mind as promised. But expecting Clu never to view his code—for error-check or memory review, update or correction...]
[It’s at least better than Alan expected. Clu isn’t taking the first opportunity to peer into Rinzler’s code, even when there’s a suggestion of fault. It adds some credibility to Clu’s promise—though Alan’s stomach twists all the same imagining Clu “correcting” any perceived error if Rinzler does report in a second time.]
I hope there won’t be any reason for that. [It’s possible that these dreams were an inexplicable, one-off event. They wouldn’t be the first Alan has experienced since he arrived through the Ingress. Still, he’s well aware that such a hope is mostly wishful thinking. And he doubts Clu will hold off on examining Rinzler’s code forever...]
I know what Clu promised . And I want to believe he’s telling the truth. But I'd rather hear it from you: if you go to Clu for this, are you sure that the only thing he’ll “correct” is damage from the asteroid?
[If Rinzler is certain, Alan… won’t be certain himself, but knowing Rinzler has some confidence in Clu’s promise is at least some level of reassurance. And if Rinzler does have his own doubts about his admin's sincerity... Alan would rather hear it now, whatever conflict it may bring with it.]
There is. A pause. Hesitation. Stall, even—especially as it draws out. One micro. Two. Clu's promises are certainty, and doubting that is unacceptable. But it was Rinzler acting on his own that caused this. But he is not permitted to destroy himself. If Clu decides the action counts, that further changes are necessary to avoid mishap...
...no. No, it doesn't matter—that's the wrong question to even be processing at all. More relevant: what will happen if Alan-one considers him at risk? His user might interfere. Might edit Rinzler, might obstruct Clu—bring harm to Rinzler's admin, or be harmed in turn. Or worse.]
[There’s a lag before Rinzler’s one-word answer comes through, short enough to be explained by a momentary distraction or quirk of the network, but not short enough to be unnoticeable.
Alan is beginning to wish they were having this conversation face-to-face. At least Rinzler’s sound tends to be a reliable tell.]
If you do report in, can you let me know first? I’d like to check in with you afterwards.
[The request feels pathetic. Alan can’t stop Rinzler from reporting to Clu alone. All he can do is try and make sure the program is still whole after it's done.]
[The lag this time is slightly less. Still, no less difficult. It's a hard request. Clu might condone Rinzler keeping contact with his user, but reporting on the admin's actions trips a full hex of flags' worth sick disloyalty. Even if, technically, he would only be reporting on his own...
Relevant facts. Relevant data. Would Alan-one, or Clu, come to harm from the action? Only if his user planned to intervene already. (Or if Rinzler were incapable of confirming function after.) The former condition evaluates to a cautious unlikely; Alan-one would need more warning to set up a trap. The second potential... also low. (Rinzler hopes.) And not providing data came with its own risks.]
Can try.
[No promises. But... that should be all right. He could ask Clu.
[It’s small, but it’s something. Part of Alan says that if he really gave a damn, he wouldn’t let it happen at all—wouldn’t let Clu peer into Rinzler’s code after everything he’s done, even with a promise that Alan has only heard about secondhand.
But he can’t make decisions for Rinzler. He’s trying to learn from his mistakes, trying to distance himself from whatever it is inside him that keeps deciding that if Rinzler won’t make the correct choice, then he’ll make it for him.
[Alan-one's thanks is unwarranted. Alan-one's instruction well beside the point. Still, there's a whisper of relief as the tangled priority chains loosen. A flicker of gratitude, a fraction of surprise on top of that.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninetydegrees
(no subject)
You don’t have to give me a full report of what they were about.
(no subject)
Yes.
(no subject)
If you’re affected, it might be safer to assume that the same is true of everyone who set foot on the asteroid.
(no subject)
Reporting to system quarantine?
(no subject)
What about you?
1/2
Not my admins.
(no subject)
I don't trust them.
(no subject)
You don’t trust them to check your code? [That would hardly be shocking—or objectionable at all, really.] Or you don’t trust them in general?
(no subject)
[He doesn't trust them with his code. He definitely doesn't trust them with his user.]
(no subject)
And then, a few seconds later:] Would you rather someone else check your code?
(no subject)
Security: poor.
[He doesn't trust them. He doesn't trust them, and he doesn't know what they're after, and they use words like parasite and contamination as if that on its own might not be lethal. As if talking and cleaning would make any difference to a virus.
Either they're incompetent, or they're lying. Rinzler's inclined to assume both.
As for someone else...]
Reported error.
[Guess who to?]
(no subject)
Not going has its own risks. [Someone could report on him, for one. And if what was done to them on the asteroid is contagious, Alan risks the well-being of those around him by not reporting for decontamination.
As preoccupying as those worries are, Rinzler’s next line of text throws up an entirely different kind of red flag. Rinzler already made it clear he wouldn’t report to the Thisavrou authorities and this is Alan’s first time hearing of the “error.” There’s only one other person he could be talking about.]
Has he already checked your code?
(no subject)
Contact if assistance required.
[And as for Clu...]
No.
[Not in reference to the current threat.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
Rinzler is Clu's. It was possible (and miraculous enough) his admin would leave Rinzler his mind as promised. But expecting Clu never to view his code—for error-check or memory review, update or correction...]
Orders: report on recurrence or deviation.
[If anything changes.]
(no subject)
I hope there won’t be any reason for that. [It’s possible that these dreams were an inexplicable, one-off event. They wouldn’t be the first Alan has experienced since he arrived through the Ingress. Still, he’s well aware that such a hope is mostly wishful thinking. And he doubts Clu will hold off on examining Rinzler’s code forever...]
I know what Clu promised . And I want to believe he’s telling the truth. But I'd rather hear it from you: if you go to Clu for this, are you sure that the only thing he’ll “correct” is damage from the asteroid?
[If Rinzler is certain, Alan… won’t be certain himself, but knowing Rinzler has some confidence in Clu’s promise is at least some level of reassurance. And if Rinzler does have his own doubts about his admin's sincerity... Alan would rather hear it now, whatever conflict it may bring with it.]
(no subject)
There is. A pause. Hesitation. Stall, even—especially as it draws out. One micro. Two. Clu's promises are certainty, and doubting that is unacceptable. But it was Rinzler acting on his own that caused this. But he is not permitted to destroy himself. If Clu decides the action counts, that further changes are necessary to avoid mishap...
...no. No, it doesn't matter—that's the wrong question to even be processing at all. More relevant: what will happen if Alan-one considers him at risk? His user might interfere. Might edit Rinzler, might obstruct Clu—bring harm to Rinzler's admin, or be harmed in turn. Or worse.]
Yes.
[He's definitely, absolutely sure.]
i'm one comment away from being able to use this for AC o9
Alan is beginning to wish they were having this conversation face-to-face. At least Rinzler’s sound tends to be a reliable tell.]
If you do report in, can you let me know first? I’d like to check in with you afterwards.
[The request feels pathetic. Alan can’t stop Rinzler from reporting to Clu alone. All he can do is try and make sure the program is still whole after it's done.]
the ones in this month wouldn't count, sadly! But heck yeah, long thread~
Relevant facts. Relevant data. Would Alan-one, or Clu, come to harm from the action? Only if his user planned to intervene already. (Or if Rinzler were incapable of confirming function after.) The former condition evaluates to a cautious unlikely; Alan-one would need more warning to set up a trap. The second potential... also low. (Rinzler hopes.) And not providing data came with its own risks.]
Can try.
[No promises. But... that should be all right. He could ask Clu.
...
He really, really shouldn't.]
(no subject)
[It’s small, but it’s something. Part of Alan says that if he really gave a damn, he wouldn’t let it happen at all—wouldn’t let Clu peer into Rinzler’s code after everything he’s done, even with a promise that Alan has only heard about secondhand.
But he can’t make decisions for Rinzler. He’s trying to learn from his mistakes, trying to distance himself from whatever it is inside him that keeps deciding that if Rinzler won’t make the correct choice, then he’ll make it for him.
That doesn’t make it easy, though.]
I know I’ve told you this before, but stay safe.
I’ll do my best to do the same.
(no subject)
Rinzler had expected him to press.]
Acknowledged. [A beat.]
Won't fail.
[Not the command, and not his user. Not again.]