Export Restriction
Jan. 7th, 2025 11:00 amWe'd gotten all the way through airport security without problems. Its normally hypervigilant attitude had turned docile, and it hadn't even been pulled aside for a special search, just waved through. I thought we were lucky. "Good work, doll," I murmured to it, tracing the line of its jaw where metal met synthflesh. "Very good."
I wasn't prepared for it to collapse onto the floor in a compacted-for-storage ball.
I knelt down next to it, reaching a hand out to touch its shoulder in concern. "Doll? What happened? Are you all right?" When my gentle query was met with nothing more than a small shudder, I hesitated for a moment, but I couldnt help it if I didn't know what was wrong. I put some authority into my voice. "Combat Doll 826-7, report."
It didn't uncurl, but it did speak up. "Combat Doll 826-7, status: red."
I felt a sting of panic. Red could mean a lot of things. "Elaborate."
"This one... this one is not a good doll. This one is useless. It should be decommissioned."
"Whoa, hey, don't talk like that." I sat down next to it. "That doll did very well! You didn't attack anyone, or jump, or even acquire any micromissile locks!"
"Only because it would have been pointless to do so. This one is outmoded. It used to be the case that this one would not have been allowed to leave the country, except on deployment."
"We've left the country together before, though." I kept rubbing its back, tracing my fingers gently across recharge ports and armor seams.
"There were still restrictions! Special search procedures! Weapon lockdowns! This one didn't even get pulled aside for a special search this time!" It wailed. "It is no longer a threat worth being concerned about! Useless! This one is incapable of being your protector!"
My hand stilled. "So that's what this is about, huh," I murmured. "Doll, look at me."
It uncurled itself just enough to meet my gaze. It looked truly miserable. If it had tear ducts, I think its face would have been a mess. "Listen to me, doll. You may not be top-of-the-line anymore. You might not be an automatic threat to aircraft with modern security measures." Its chest hitched, but I plowed forward. "But you're still useful! Why, just the other day you stopped that assassin in his tracks!"
It hitched again, shivering against my touch. "A human assassin? What a joke. Any combat doll could have done that. A human bodyguard could have done that." It sneered through its self-deprecation.
"But more importantly, you know what I need. How I move, how I operate. You're more than a simple combat doll. You provide more than just mere firepower. You give tactical advice, good strategic suggestions, support in times of need. My operations wouldn't be half as successful without you." It blinked at me, misery beginning to drain from its face. I grinned at it. "Plus, you're the only one that knows how I like my tea."
That got an actual bark of laughter, if only briefly. "If you try to put this one in a maid dress, Ma'am, it will detonate its fusion core." It stood, and offered me its hand with a faint smile.
I grabbed it, squeezing it tight as I stood. "Aww, but you'd look so cute!" I teased it, as we took the escalator down to the terminal trains. It wasn't completely better, but we'd get there. Together.