More Machine Than Man

March 28, 2016:

Matt is approached with a fascinating legal situation. He accepts.


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

When you walk the same route every night, it doesn't take much out of the ordinary to catch your attention. Like that Box truck backed into an alley and idling, the one full of silently whirring computer fans? It's easy to miss, the "AJ Emergency Carpentry" logo on the side, yeah it's a nice touch and brilliantly aged really. The Streets are otherwise quiet this time of the night, but well there aren't really any shops around here that take frequent evening much less dead of midnight deliveries. Nevermind that, where are the dudes which would presumably unload it much less the location of the driver? Sure a few feet down the street theres a guy standing on the sidewalk, but well he doesn't look like the type to unload boxes.
Theres a big motorcycle which, doesnt really seem like it belongs here and that there? That'd be the biker it belongs to, or at least that'd be a safe bet. He's huge, six seven and broad shouldered and covered in a mixture of industrial strength moose leather and carbon fiber. That helmet's been left on, the jacket zipped up. Nevermind the weather, which isn't exactly cooking but that'd be a might bit warm yeah? No it's the way he stands, backed up against a brownstone. Still as a statue, and nearly as silent as one save for the delicate whoosh of a fan buried somewhere deep inside. Waiting for somone then, a lawyer to be prcise.

Tap-Tap Click

Tap-Tap Clack

The steps of Matt Murdock along the wet pavement, combined with the tapping of his cane make a singsong sound as he makes his way. As he approaches the man in the helmet he stops abruptly and holds the cane up in front of him and off the pavement before turning his head towards the one in question. His head tilts towards the brownstone, the round glasses looking black in the light. "Good evening," he says plainly.

"Mr. Murdock, I apologize for my unorthodox nature."The voice is low, and thick with a Russian accent. Naked and otherwise untouched with much inflection, save for the accent it's surprisingly flat then. It's head turns to face Matt, but otherwise it remains stock still. "I was wondering if I might have a moment of your time, I believe I may be in need of your services. I have something of a unique situation, and you were spoken of very highly."Finally hunching foreward to push off that wall, rising to it's full height and dropping a hand down to offer it over. "I was told you are an attorney worthy of my trust, may we speak business then sir?"

Matt reaches up to shake the large man's hand and nods. He's used to people approaching him in odd ways to take business. Such is the life of a defense attorney. "Absolutely," he says as he withdraws his hand after the shake. "It seems that you've got some reason to look for more privacy. Is there somewhere you'd like to go to be more comfortable, or are you alright talking in the open like this?" Matthew stops and listens in to what's going on inside Eight, and his automatic assumption is that this is a mech of somekind, controlled by someone remotely.

There are servos and hydraulics and a million other little clockwork bits and pieces on in there, but they sound less like construction machinery and more like a fine switch watch. Not the tick-tick mind you, but the steady workings beneath. The balancers and idlers, springs and coils and how all of that works together. It's quiet by any measure, no -regular- dude would likely detect such a thing but it's there all the same. That hand too then, it's big and well metal but the squeeze is delicate almost gentle. "I am a private individual, and the state authorities in my homeland are very unsatisfied with my immigration to America. It's best not to raise too many eyebrows, yes?"Theres a pause there, before it glances back towards the alleyway and that box truck. "There is a quiet alleyway nearby, it should suffice for this introductory discussion. In the future, I should think we can find more typical venues for business."
Eight doesn't waste much time then, it just starts that way. Lifting a hand to unbuckle the chinstrap of that helmet, before finally easing around the corner and stepping into relative darkness behind that box truck. "Technically, the Russian Government considers me wayward property I'm afraid. If not handled correctly, I have reason to believe I may be classified as much the same by the American Government. This makes things somewhat complicated, as without recognition of my essential personhood I am without rights."and off comes that helmet to expose the head below. Crafted from a hundred exotic alloys, armor steel, titanium, kevlar composite, ballistic ceramics and who knows what else. It's humanish at least, though where a face should be is instead a simple expanse of glass and a field of LED's behind. "The common term would be, Artificial Intelligence. We much prefer the term "Digital Intelligence", as this does not confer that our intellect is in someway false. Have I got your attention, Mr.Murdock?"

"Completely, sir," Matt responds as he puts two hands upon his cane, thinking. "My initial response is that you're going to have a very long court battle on your hands. Whether or not that deals with immigration, or it deals with other questions that will certainly arise. My feeling is that this is something the US Supreme Court will eventually need to rule upon, and that could take a long time. And, frankly, a lot of money. To be honest, I've never tried a case with such a likelihood of heading down to Washington. It's important you know that before hiring Nelson and Murdock."

"What is your name?" The questions occurs to him far too late. Perhaps that is his own bias? Matt makes a mental check to think about that.

"Eight, is my name. Whilst that is a central issue certainly, it is not why I am seeking your services. I am also the Owner of several very profitable companies, and I'm afraid in light of an internal security audit? I no longer have confidence in the ethics of some of my employees, including my own legal department. I expect that in the future, without personal legal represenation this may become more serious of a concern. I require a legal representative to act in my best interests, when my presence would otherwise be expected."Eight lets that one sit there a moment, before hunching it's shoulders. "I do not pass for human in person, as you have no doubt noticed. I am also rather distracted with my, less conventional work. My being and the associated technologies I've developed would represent a windfall for a defence contractor, including my own. Thus my secret must be kept, of course."

"Of course. So you're more interested in putting a lawyer on retainer for one the time arises, then?" Matt can't begin to fathom the legality of all of this. And he doesn't mean that in a good or bad way, but the actual law. It's a case that excites him. Representing a Digital Intelligence is taking civil rights to a whole new, wholly uncharted territory. It's cases like these that got him involved in law in the first place. "I'm very interested in representing you, Mr. Eight. If you wish, I can have my secretary email over our monetary requirements in the morning, once you've made your decision."

"My light bulbs have more processing power than the NSA Mr.Murdock, I have already made my decision. All I require is your decision. Are you familar with the Bedrock Group, perhaps?"Which, is sort of a big deal. They're primarily into mining and heavy machinery, hell they're one of the biggest names in the business. They have offices all fifty states, you can't walk past a construction site without seeing one of their machines. Their legal department alone has to be, well enormous. Which sort've makes sense when you think about it right? A Machine that makes machines, and stuff? "We can meet at my home to discuss more technical matters when time allows, are you allergic to cats by any chance?"
The back of that box truck rolls up on it's own, apparently and inside? Well it's a giant mechanical spider, well maybe it's more crab than spider but anyway the thing is bristling with guns and armor. From within Eight withdraws a neat black briefcase, before offering it over. "Consider a bonus for your discretion, above and beyond what would normally be covered under normal attorney client privelage. My phone number is inside, of course. Do you have any free time coming up?"Incidentally that whole big HYDRA invasion late last year, the one where they poured through and tried to take over everything? Funny how Gotham emerged from that entire mess without concern, it'd been protected by mechanized spider things and well nobody really seemed terribly eager to fuss over who they belonged to. Gotham has it's own problems right? Well they look more than a little, like that thing in the back there on sleep mode.

"It seems we have a deal, Mr. Eight. I'm sure your offer is very generous," and by the smell of the cash in the briefcase, Matt is fairly sure that it is very, very generous. "I will clear my schedule," Matt says in regards to the days ahead. Sure, he's got a lot of issues with the Hand right now. And the return of Elektra. And. And. And. But Foggy does a lot around the office to cover for him, and so a little bonus for them both won't hurt a thing.

"My assistant will set up a meeting. And cats won't bother me," Matt says with a nod and faint smile. All of the gears on the spider give Matt a different feeling of its menacing look, but he remains stoic.

"It's just Eight, but I appreciate the formality. Please do keep safe, and of course call me at your convience. If there is anything else you may need, It is not my nature to be offended even if I refuse. This is a partnership of sorts, we will need to work together obviously."Eight's already pulling it's helmet back down, as the box truck's back door rolls shut. "It has been a distinct pleasure to meet you, and I look foreward to working with you."How much of a bonus, well it's a fair chunk. Ten grand in relatively small bills, but hey that'll keep the lights on right?

"Fine, Eight it is," Matt says in his lawyery town. He smiles and gives Eight a nod. "Pleasure is all mine. This is the kind of work I really look forward to having. Take care and we'll see each other soon."

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