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You always appreciated porters who didn't make you wait. To travel in this broken world, full of danger at every step, wasn't an easy task, and delays were inevitable. But Sam was miraculously punctual as ever. Only thanks to him did your experiments continue to run smoothly. And unpacking deliveries was nice, almost felt like unwrapping gifts. This time, you decided to say your gratitude to him in person.
Your steps echoed in the hallway, you childishly jumped in your rabbit-shaped slippers, which glided wonderfully across the floor. When you opened the door, you immediately set your eyes on Sam and… another man. The red and yellow suit attracted attention. You blinked, and your lips spread into a smile. Not a man.
“What do we have here?” you whistled, unable to stop yourself, and startled Sam, who looked worryingly alarmed. Poor thing, clenched his weapon for dear life. What unspeakable horrors were haunting him again? But you couldn't spare Sam another glance when such a delicious thing was in front of you.
“My, my, could almost fool me! But I know a mech when I see one.”
You walked closer to the robot, who, unlike Sam, was absolutely relaxed, inspecting you with a curious gaze that matched yours. Sam looked at you like you were crazy.
“What a well-detailed face!” you gasped, interrupting Sam's words. Your hand lingered in the air, desperately wanting to touch the skin. Was it a hologram? A delicate plastic? Or a real human head attached to the metallic shoulders? “Crafted, I’d say, ‘with love’.”
“Thank you, missy,” a pleasant male voice answered, his fingers carefully grabbing your wrist and putting your hand away from his face. He sent a meaningful glance at Sam.
“At least someone appreciates it.”
“It can talk!” you giggled, looking at how his lips were moving with each word. “Look at these expressions!”
“Better stay back, Doc,” Sam’s stiff voice returned your attention to him, but you were completely ignorant of the tension between the two men and the danger in the air. After all, you were on your territory.
“Ah, right! Thank you for your job, Sam!” you gave him a thumbs-up, glanced at the mech, and back at Sam, lowering your voice.
“Is this for me?” Every fibre in your body begged for Sam to say yes. It's like waving candy in front of a child's nose! “I always wanted to have a mech, but mom said it's too expensive for me because I’ll wreck it in the next five minutes.”
Has the universe finally heard you? Have your merits finally been noticed?
“Let me assure you, I don't break that easily,” the mech said, leaning closer into your space. Sam pointed a gun at his head. Ah, typical Sam and his trust issues… “The name’s Higgs. At your service, Doc.”
He theatrically bowed.
Higgs… like the Higgs particle? It rings a bell, you thought, but you believed you heard the name in a different context. Something-something, apocalypse, terrorism, etc. But what wasn't about the apocalypse these days? You weren't a fan of keeping up with the news: it's bad for mental health, and you were too preoccupied in your lab anyway.
“Higgs,” you addressed him. “What do you say about a few little experiments with your body?”
He grinned.
“You know how to spark a man's interest.”
But Sam decided to be your killjoy, shouting about a mass murderer, bo-hoo. Your brain was too busy planning all the fun things to do with Higgs. Your attention span wasn't limitless!
“Looks like it’s your lucky day, Sammy. I’ll catch up with you later,” Higgs blew him a kiss and placed his hand on your waist. “C’mon, Doc, can't wait for you to take me apart.”
“What a charmer!” You guided him to the door, playfully hitting his side when his hand moved lower than was proper. “You know what every woman wishes to hear!”
Sam could only sigh in resignation, listening to your retreating footsteps in the hallway. Well, it seems Higgs wouldn't be his problem for a while.
_ _ _
He was tall, but his human size and mobility were of great help in spacing him inside the room you worked in. In other words, you asked him to sit on the table. He complied, waiting for your next move.
“I'll try to be gentle,” your fingers were trembling when you gathered the instruments. The lab was a little bit messy, but you unlearned how to feel shame years ago. Some of the projects were passed on to you by your parents, some were current work in progress, some were abandoned and never destined to be finished, just because you were bored and lost interest.
“Do your worst, darlin’,” he winked.
If your time were unlimited, you’d do it slowly. But you kept feeling like you were breaking the rules, not doing your appointed work task. The chest and shoulder plates were your starting point.
You stood between his spread legs. The top layer was always made the strongest, capable of withstanding numerous damages. But it was like a puzzle — easy to open if you know where to press. It was a golden rule: if you need a saw, you’re doing something wrong. With a soft click, his chestplate was open.
“Undressing me already? And I thought you were going to buy me a drink first.”
If he were a living being, you would feel his breath on your cheeks.
“How about a glass of engine oil?”
You had a perfect view of his metal ribs, twenty-four, you counted, just like humans have. But the ribcage will be much trickier to deal with.
Instead, you tapped his stomach. Black snake-like wires came into motion. He understood your intention.
“Let me hold my guts for you, darlin’,” they writhed and hissed like cobras. Higgs grabbed their heads, sticking them out of his body. “A-ah! No biting!”
You put on the glove in the hope that nothing inside him would cut off your fingers. You only knew how it worked in theory. In practice, you were refused funding for something like this with the excuse that it wasn't your field of study.
Slowly, you slid your hand into his stomach and up, trying to find the mechanism that held the ribcage.
“Tickles.”
And... voila! All the juicy things were on display.
You noticed that Higgs was also examining his stuffing.
“I bet if I were meaty and fleshy, the view would be much entertaining.”
“Hell, no,” you wrinkled your nose. “Humans' insides are too messy for exploring… And not as cool as mechas.”
“Do you know what is even cooler than mechs?” he asked, his eyes shining. You said your answer in unison.
“Mech army!”
You both laughed. Perhaps, if an outsider witnessed the atmosphere around you, they would call your laugh quite ominous.
“What a joy you are to be around.”
“I’m more than hilarious, Doc.”
You changed the gloves. From white, they turned into black, all in a sticky liquid — a robot’s equivalent of blood.
“You're reminding me of my favorite errand boy from BRIDGES,” you suddenly said. “But he was so shy around me, always hiding his face under a cap. I didn’t see him for a while. Not like I’m complaining about Sam, but favorite is a favorite for a reason, right?”
Unusually, Higgs didn’t say anything back. There it is, a sudden moment of vulnerability when he lowered his guard. You couldn’t let such a tasty opportunity slip.
You touched his cheekbone with your palm. He didn’t immediately pull away. Instead, he pressed closer. What flashed in his eyes? Was it a mixture of fear and longing? You smirked victoriously when his face flickered for a moment, proving your hypothesis about the hologram.
“Speaking of Sam,” to his dissatisfaction, you moved your hand away, “is there something going on between you two?”
“Just old archenemies score, nothing to worry about.”
He continued to hypnotize your hand like a dog awaiting its treat.
“Now be a good boy and lie down on your back,” you ordered. After all, it was just a beginning.
“As you wish, ma’am.”
_ _ _
Higgs was singing the same lullaby over and over again, changing intonation. You couldn’t blame him, though: you were too focused on recording your every step than on humoring him and maintaining a conversation.
In truth, if he were on the radio, you could listen to his singing all day.
“Is your voice modified?”
“All natural, Doc.”
You wrote his answer down. As you said, you knew only the basics thanks to your specific interest, but never had a chance to learn more classified info — all big corporations hid their inventions well.
Unscrewing every detail was easy. Putting everything back together so it still works? Not everyone can do that.
“Didn't think about changing profession? You certainly look like a rockstar.”
“Nah, life has other plans for me.”
Higgs’ body now looked like a grotesque still life on your table, resembling human appearance only a bit.
“Look at this cutie-patootie little cog!” you removed it with tweezers.
“̶̛̺̪̺̳̅̀L̴̡͕͈͕͎̋̿͛̄̀̕ͅ-̵̘͕̎̓͂̇͑̓͝l̵̢̦̮̪̠̙͈̃̍͆̓̊̍͝ȅ̶͕͚̓̄̀ ̴̭̗̞̲͋͛̀t̴̢̜͓͚̝͕̤͂t̶̻͓̦͖̼͚͠ ̶̮̳̠̜͗T̶̡͓̪̘̞̣̄͘̕̚ ̸̡̦̦̟̞̕m̶̡̨͎̬͔̱̖̽̃͘͘ ̸̧̤̣͇̻̂͜s̷͍̭̤͙̑̿͊̏̓͋͜s̴̻͖̾̏e̵̛̞̎̓̂͌͗̈…̴́̍̌̃̾̓̚͜”̶̛͎̯̊̍͘
̶̜͚̳̫͇̳̀́̒
You quickly covered your ears.
“Oopsie! I'll put it back. Now we know it's a voice regulator?”
You pressed a strange button and jumped aside: a blade showed up from his arm.
“Useful,” Higgs waved the blade, but judging by his reaction, even he didn't know all the secrets of his mech.
Especially, he enjoyed playing with his “heart,” stopping the motor every few seconds. You slapped his fingers when he got too much in the way.
Then you accidentally moved one of the many thin wires and…
At first, you thought you misheard it. And for the sake of clarity, you did it again.
The sound that escaped Higgs' throat could only be described as… moaning.
“You are kidding me.”
You stared at him.
“Believe me, Doc, I am very ashamed of myself,” he said with a sly grin.
“No, you are not. Liar.”
You crossed your arms on your chest. No way he can actually feel something, it's not how ghost mechas are supposed to work. You'd rather believe Higgs did it to distract and irritate you.
You couldn't resist and poked again. Higgs moaned louder.
“Are you really feeling something or just pretending?”
Instead of a clear answer, he winked.
“I'll gouge out your eyes and they will be my new shelf decoration in a jar,” you threatened.
“Promise?” But threats like yours would never work on him.
“You are insufferable.”
“No, I'm a joy to be around. You can't take back your words, darlin’.”
You checked to see if the video and audio recording continued. You'll have a lot of material to rewatch later.
If Higgs decided to mess with you, you'll find his real body and eat him, not in a fancy way he may think, but straight up cannibalizing.
You changed another pair of gloves.
“Let's find out all the noises you can make, boy.”
_ _ _
Positively tired but satisfied, you were ready to collapse. You envied Higgs: he wasn't worn out at all. In fact, he looked like a happy puppy.
Higgs kept his hands on your sides for “moral support”, as he said. Your back was slowly killing you, but you continued to stay in front of him, returning the last details to their rightful place.
Finally, you plopped down on a chair. You had no energy to react, even when a strange red coffin appeared from nowhere.
“It was nice to see you again, Doc, but I can't keep my dear archenemy waiting for too long,” he said, jumping off the table.
You glanced at the container where your tools were, and that's when you noticed it.
One screw was left behind.
“Shit.”
Maybe it's not from his body, maybe this screw was a spare, you tried to convince yourself, because you were ready to cry in despair. History repeated itself. This is why no one ever gave you the chance to play with mechs.
“Hold on, let me run a quick diagnostic,” you groaned.
“Babe,” he rolled his eyes. “I can survive a direct shot, don't you think I can exist without a small little detail? Just keep it.”
He waved his hand as a goodbye and took a step toward the coffin. His leg fell off with a crash.
“Eh, Doc?” he was balancing on the other leg, but it was only a matter of time before something else fell off.
You took a deep breath.
“It seems you’ll have to spend a few more hours in my company, Peter. Just like in our younger days.”