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We entered another cubic room, but it was as if Limbo had almost breached its perimeter. It looked like the walls had tried to flow down onto the floor; portions of the floor were so threadbare I convinced myself that I could look outside the dungeon construct.
There was a living occupant in the room. I saw a cube with four arms and two legs; despite its mechanical appearance, the front of the cube was a strange, organic green face, with two wide, elliptical eyes. The cube didn't seem to notice me; it was staring intently at the two crossbows cradled in its hands. A multi-faceted lens dangled from the upper left corner of the cube; it looked like it was designed to pop down over one of the cube's eyes, like a scope.
I attempted a greeting to gets its attention. The cube *chrrruped,* and there was a *klik-klik-klik* as its eyes blinked wildly. The cube whirled to face me, its eyes wide, then flung its two free hands up in the air, as if in surrender... yet its two crossbows had turned in its hands and were now trained on me. In a strange, detached way, I couldn't help but notice that every joint on this creature seemed to be a series of *whrrrring* gears and cogs.
Morte had come up beside me, and commented, "Chief, we're looking at trouble here - this modron's gone rogue."
"Rogue?"
"Yeah," Morte continued, "you see, sometimes modrons get a little chaos in 'em, and when that happens… well, I guess the *best* explanation is that rogue modrons are kind of like… backwards modrons."
"So this is a… backwards modron?"
The modron, which had been silently watching us, suddenly spoke. "Backwards modron = 'Nordom?'" The cube's voice had a metallic, warbling quality to it, as if every word it spoke was jumping off a spring and landing... well, somewhere else. Its mouth formed a bizarre sideways semi-circle, which I took to be a smile. "Gratitudes! Gratefuls!"
"Uh... I'm sorry?"
"Not sorries. Null sorries. Gratitudes! Indentification of self comprosized by doubtings + mullings + analysis." The cube *chrrruped* again, and one of its eye blinked with a *klik* - then after a moment, the other eye *kliked,* as if it didn't want to be left out.
"You're grateful... that I identified you? Aren't you a modron?"
The cube's features steadied themselves, and its mouth formed a flat line. "Indemnification of this unit (was) compromised. Subject - addressee indemnified unit as 'Nordom.' Gratitudes tendered for providing Nordom indemnification."
"It was nothing. Really."
Nordom's eyes *klik* blinked once, twice, three times; each time the black spots in the center of his eyes contracted - by the third blink, they were the size of dots. "Real-eye-zation reached: Nordom null know name of addressee. Indemify yourself."
It wanted me to identify myself. I wished I could find a name as readily as Nordom had, as I answered "I don't really *have* a name, Nordom."
Nordom's eyes widened, the diameter of his 'pupils' growing back to normal size. He *klik* blinked once - but the metal shutters that fell across his eyes didn't rise. After a moment, they begin rattling, as if stuck.
"Uh... Nordom. You can open your eyes now."
There was another *klik* and Nordom's eyes opened. "Not closing eyes: Engaged-ged in Action Clarification for Subject (Unidentified, Nameless). Formulating... submitting query: Are you lost?"
"Lost? What do you mean?"
As Nordom's warbling query ended with the word 'Lost,' a curious crawling sensation wormed through the back of my skull - with it came two certainties, hand in hand: This was not the first time I'd heard this, and that what Nordom was *about* to say to my next question was important. "When you say 'loss,' Nordom, what do you mean?"
"Absence of Name = Absence of Identity = Absence of Purpose = Absence of Place in Multiverse = Null State = Loss. Nordom existed in State, Null, until Subject (Unidentified, Nameless) attached identity to Nordom. Null Identity, Null Purpose, Null Place equates to 'Loss.'"
"Well, I imagine I had a name once, but I forgot it."
"Formulating new query." There was a *tkkk-tkkk-tkkk* as Nordom blinked three times, rapidly - the sound was like the tapping of a hammer on a sheet of tin. "Explain to Nordom why you performed this action: FORGOT-ing."
"It's a side effect of my... condition, I think."
The metal shutters sealed over Nordom's eyes with a *whrrr,* then he rattled to himself for a few moments with his eyes closed. When they *kliked* open, Nordom *chrrruped.* "Query: Memory defective?"
"Yes, you could say that."
"Pre-Conditional Action to clarify Query: Nordom memory space not yet near capacity. Query/Action: In event of 'Yes' return from Subject (Unidentified, Nameless) Nordom can re-remember for you."
A living journal? I replied, "Sure, go ahead, Nordom... anyway, look, I really have to be about my business."
There was a sudden, rapid series of *kliks* and *twangs* from the crossbows in Nordom's hands. His eyes spun and re-focused on the crossbows, holding the right one up closer to his side, as if listening to it.
"Is everything okay?"
One of Nordom's eyes remained on the crossbow, which was *klikking* faintly, and his other eye focused on me. "Query: May these ones join you on your gurney?"
Nordom clearly no longer had a place among the modrons. He could journey with us; at worst, we could leave him in Sigil, which at least would be better than remaining here. I told Nordom, "Sure. We could always use a hand... or four."
Nordom's 'mouth' formed the bizarre semi-circle it did before, and his two crossbows began *klikking* and *twanging* violently, almost vibrating out of his hands. "Gratitudes! Gratefuls! Nordom and crossbows have been attached to a larger community."
I thought to myself, I wouldn't be too grateful just yet. I then introduced Nordrom to the others who had decided to travel with me, indicating their 'designations.'
I got some indication of how Nordom would mix with the group as we were leaving the room. Nordom suddenly spoke, "Attention: Morte. Did you know I have six sides?"
Morte replied, "I noticed. Why don't you go share your insight with the chief, huh?"
I had found a 'portal lens' while we had wandered the cubic rooms. One of the modrons we had met earlier had described its function. While we were in Rubikon, it could attach to a known, existing portal, permitting access to the portal without traveling to it. In effect, it let us go almost anywhere in Sigil we had been from where we were.
I used it to go back to the Clerk's Ward, and rested for the
night.
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