Mardock Scramble

The fossils swirled across her body and the wall like a whirlpool, floating up, then disappearing.

Why me? The question was now about to get yet another answer.

“There’s one problem, though,” said Oeufcoque. “What’s the definition of love?”

The Doctor pulled away from the water tank and turned toward Oeufcoque with a surprised expression. “Should I interpret this as a sign of a new ego developing, Oeufcoque?”

“No, just a request for information, pure and simple. I think I’m going to have to be able to answer this question with, er, a degree of flexibility.”

“Well, it’s a difficult enough question to answer in any case, particularly when you’re trying to lump all different kinds of love together. There’s familial love, neighborly love, agape—that’s godly love—all sorts,” explained the Doctor.

“Seems complicated. But I’m just asking about the need to be loved,” said Oeufcoque.

“What, you want me to make a female version of you? But you’re unique, a miracle prototype. Even if the army were to resume their program, I’m not sure if we could make a female…”

“Not me, her! I’m talking about Balot!”

“Ah, I see.” The Doctor nodded. But then he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and asked, doubtfully, “By you? You’re saying that she’s looking for something from you?”

“She’s looking for foundation, for some sort of emotional stability… I’m guessing that’s the best way of explaining it. According to my intuition—my nose—she’s got all these qualities, these needs. Because she’s never been in a decent environment. To survive in the world that she’s been living in, she’s needed some sort of foundation, or stability. And she calls this love.”

“Oh, I know all too well how sharp your nose is,” interjected the Doctor. “Within the team responsible for you, most of the researchers feared you from the bottom of their souls. They were afraid that you’d show up all their inadequacies. You’d analyze people as if they were nothing more than the sum of their chemical parts.”

“You’re talking about a long time ago, Doc. That was then and this is now. I know a lot more now than I used to.”

“I’m sure. So, what exactly is it that you’re trying to say, Oeufcoque?”

“I want to protect the girl. But I’m not sure what more I should be doing.”

“Well, I know what you should be doing. But I don’t know what the right thing is,” said the Doctor.

“It’s as if she’s trying to treat me like a human.”

“I didn’t realize that this wasn’t what you wanted, Oeufcoque. I treat you like a human, and so did your former partners. It’s just what happens naturally.”

“It’s different, though. Something’s different from what happened before. Something’s changing inside me. She’s made the decision to appear in the courtroom, and that’s fine. But it makes me feel terrible, as if I’d done something inexcusable.”

“Hmm.” The Doctor looked Oeufcoque up and down as if he were inspecting some rare specimen.

“I think I should try to be drier, more detached,” continued Oeufcoque.

“Uh-huh,” the Doctor mumbled, and then continued, sympathetically, “but that’s not really who you are, is it?”

He spoke with a serious expression. Oeufcoque rolled over on the desk onto his side and sighed deeply. His little body seemed to wilt, and he looked smaller than ever.

Chapter 3

CRANK-UP

01

The Stairway to Heaven shone, dazzling, beautiful in the morning sun. The spiral stairway—the unofficial symbol of Mardock City—wound round in three circles before stopping cleanly in midair, an unfinished monument that was designed to be just so.

Symbols of Jupiter—the planet of the king of gods—were carved into its outer edge, and every part of the handrail and supporting pillar was ornamented with scenes from the myths.

The monument that migrants had built long ago to express their hope and their faith.

Mardock—the Stairway to Heaven—was now seen by the steady influx of people into the city as a symbol of their own dreams and ambitions. This epitomized life in the city: to climb to the top, to arrive, was the ultimate virtue.

Under the stairway that soared up over the municipal offices of the Broilerhouse, Balot waited, Oeufcoque wrapped round her neck as a choker and the newly besuited Doctor beside her.

–Every time I look at this staircase I can almost see the phantoms of people falling from the top.

Balot snarced Oeufcoque, and he replied, “It’s the system that people devised long ago, sorting the world into winners and losers. But it doesn’t necessarily have to be that way—there’s more to mankind than that. We’re just talking about part of a system. Try not to let it get to you.”

–If I fell from the top, I’d die, wouldn’t I?

“I’d turn into whatever tool I needed in order to prevent that.” Oeufcoque’s voice may have been small, but it was wonderfully reassuring to Balot.