CHAPTER 12: MIKE - NOT LIKE YOU ARE IN REAL LIFE
“So it goes.”
– Slaughterhouse-Five
Mike's daddy always said he’d find his perfect match one day, probably in the most unlikely of places. Mike’s mom went to live on the moon when he was six solar years old, and ever since, he'd figured his soul mate would be somewhere out there on the moon, where his momma had gone. His mom had always been the one to follow him around, making sure he didn’t fall down a hill or get stung by bees again. After she left, his daddy’s factotums took over that role, but they were never the same. And now, old Mike had finally found his soul mate—on a comet, of all places. Along with his robot best friend.
Mike, Federico, and Haji_Haji stood looking up at the sight of the Hohenzollern Excelsior, its sleek form hovering far above, completely out of their reach. Back home, Haji_Haji had been Mike’s waifu, and they’d spent countless hours together in AVP. Now, seeing her in person for the first time, Mike couldn’t help but be a little surprised at how shy she was acting. He remembered reading in her info when he first bought his subscription that she was shy. Maybe it was because they’d only ever interacted in virtual space before, and now, here they were, face to face. It might’ve been the happiest moment of his life.
“How do y’all reckon we can just fly up there, over yonder?” Mike asked, his voice filled with a kind of eager, hungry excitement.
Federico, whose face was an animated display screen, projected a 3D wireframe schematic of the comet mine’s tailings yard. The image showed rockets designed to launch waste materials into space. Lines of Portuguese text scrolled across Federico’s face afterward, detailing the plan.
Seeing the whole thing laid out like a cartoon flipped a switch in Mike’s brain, and a wild idea took root. He pictured himself riding one of those rockets straight into space, leaping back aboard the ship like a real hero. It would be super cool.
“What do you think, Haji_Haji? Maybe we could just ride one of their rockets?” Mike asked, grinning as the idea fully bloomed in his mind.
Haji_Haji blinked twice, her expression unreadable.
Since meeting the real version of his dream girl, Mike had come to an odd realization. “You know something, Haji_Haji,” he said, letting out a goofy laugh. “You’re not like you are in real life.” His tone was innocent, almost childlike, but it clearly struck a chord.
Haji_Haji turned red. Mike, completely oblivious, thought it was because she was being shy again, just like her character was supposed to be. He scolded himself internally, knowing he shouldn’t tease her like that.
He noticed her shift her stance, her arms stiff at her sides as she stepped toward him. To Mike, it looked like she was about to rush forward for a hug, maybe overwhelmed by how close they were now, finally in person. His heart swelled at the thought, and he felt his face heat up, ready to catch her in a romantic embrace.
But objectively, her posture was something else entirely. Her hands were clenched into tight fists, her feet planted just far enough apart to make her movements calculated, purposeful. And the way she leaned forward, eyes slightly narrowed—it wasn’t a gesture of affection. If anyone else had been watching, it would’ve been clear she was considering shoving him straight off the edge of the platform.
Mike’s grin widened, completely misreading the moment. "Aw, Haji_Haji, I knew you’d warm up to me."
For a split second, she paused, her eyes scanning him like she was weighing the consequences of what might happen if she did push him. Mike, completely oblivious, just stood there, waiting for the hug he thought was coming.
But then Haji_Haji’s expression flickered, and she stepped back, composing herself. She was probably just nervous, Mike thought. After all, they’d only known each other online before this.
He chuckled to himself, never once suspecting the danger he had narrowly avoided.
Federico walked over to the edge of the superstructure they were all standing on, pointing out across a cloudy expanse of glittering fog-like dust to barely visible structures hidden within. The tips of the tailings rockets jutted out like mythical towers, far away, through regions unknown.
“How do we get there, Federico? Will it be dangerous?” Mike asked, peering out at the distant towers.
In response, Federico displayed images on his screen-like face. Small spidery robots, other large yellow ones—similar to himself, though their paint was less faded. But then he showed the worse ones. Larger. Humongous. The names Aranha, Carregador, and Taladrador scrolled across his face in ominous text. And then came the dreaded Tarântula.
Haji_Haji, arms crossed, asked, “Can we avoid them?”
A map of the installation appeared on Federico’s face, tracing a route that mostly led through the Aranha territory. Still, wherever Federico could go, other Punos like him could follow.
She then inquired, “What happens if we run into one of those robots?”
A smiley emoji appeared on his screen, and he pointed to himself. The word “Proteger!” flashed in bold letters.
It seemed to ease her nerves. Together, the trio descended back down into the ship, trusting Federico’s word.
That trust had been built back when they first met the robot. Mike and Haji_Haji had been crawling through cramped, uncomfortable tunnels, hungry and exhausted, when they came face-to-face with yet another robot. Unlike the ones they had encountered before, this one looked old, its yellow paint faded and covered in dings and scratches.
Federico had a message on his face. Haji_Haji squinted at it and read aloud, “He says he's peaceful.”
The words had read, “Venha comigo se quiser viver.”
Their path since then had been long, and there were still countless threats ahead. Mike figured they’d better get prepared.
“I’ve eaten lots of food,” Mike declared out of nowhere. “Federico, where can we find something to eat?”
Federico extended his central column, raising the upper section of his body to match Mike’s height. His torso rotated to face him, and a detailed map of the surrounding area lit up on his screen, tracing a path to a long room up a short set of stairs.
“SAFS: Sistema Automatizado de Fornecimento de Suprimentos,” Federico displayed.
Mike turned to Haji_Haji, “What do you want to eat?”
She replied flatly, “I don’t eat.”
Mike blinked. “You don’t eat? What do you mean you don’t eat?” His tone bordered on disbelief, almost as if he took it as a personal challenge.
Haji_Haji rolled her eyes, her voice flat. “I don’t eat because when I was eleven, I kept vomiting during dance rehearsals.”
Mike chuckled, clearly thinking she was joking. “Why’d you throw up?” he asked, grinning, like he didn’t believe there could be a real answer.
She said, “Because of the gas.”
“Gas? What gas?” His tone was rising with every word, like he was waiting for some big, outlandish revelation.
“While learning new dance moves in preparation for a piece, we’d breathe in gas from these little mask things to help us learn faster. Mine made me nauseous. After it kept happening, they gave me an augmentation that eliminated my need to eat.”
Mike paused, visibly processing. “Gosh. Dang. Gosh.” He drew it out before saying again, “Dang.”
Haji_Haji just shrugged, “Oh. Yeah. Dang.”
“Can you still eat?” Now he sounded concerned, as if the thought of someone not eating was somehow tragic.
Haji_Haji nodded slightly inside her helmet, the visor unmoving. “I can. I just don’t. I don’t care.”
Mike scratched his head. “But in your song, you said that chicken crackers tasted just right.”
She rolled her eyes, “I also said I’m sad enough like Wednesday.”
“You’re different,” he said, not really sure what else to say.
The food system sat in the wall, its casing made from composite materials with a matte finish. Behind a reinforced glass panel, the inside was visible—a conveyor system with little compartments, each about the size of a person’s head. The touchscreen interface at the center of the machine was completely dark, despite the fact that everything else around them seemed to have power.
Federico flashed an inquiry on his face, asking if anyone was hungry.
Mike, still distracted by the idea of Haji_Haji’s eating habits, said, “Boy howdy.”
Without hesitation, Federico pressed one of his hand clamps against the glass. It spiderwebbed under the pressure, small chips falling away as the robot pushed one of its digits through a hole at the center of the crack. With a fluid motion, Federico peeled the entire glass panel off, rolling it up like a rug and setting it aside against the wall.
“Well, now we can take our pick,” Haji_Haji said, gesturing to the exposed items. “Looks like we’ve got corn, snow peas, manteiga, or Beirão. All in twenty-liter containers.”
Mike eyed the options, bewildered by their size. He tried lifting a few but quickly realized how heavy they were. The snow peas, though, seemed manageable.
“How come they’re all the same size, but they weigh different?” Mike asked, struggling to understand why fifteen kilos of corn felt so different from nine kilos of snow peas, let alone the forty-kilo manteiga or the even heavier Beirão.
Mike settled on the snow peas and tried to lift the canister. There was no apparent lid, which only added to the rising sense of confusion. He set it down and stared at it, deep in thought, as if the answer might suddenly reveal itself. He felt like the butt of some cosmic joke, the punchline hanging just out of reach.
He wanted the snow peas. Needed them, even. His hunger had been building, driving everything he’d been doing up to this point. And now, standing here with the can, he just needed a way to open it.
Without a word, Haji_Haji picked up the canister, twisted the child-proof lid off like it was nothing, and handed it back to him.
“Instructions,” she said, pointing to the small illustration on the lid.
“Dang, Haji_Haji. You’re tenner than November.”
Mike started eating snow peas out of the can, which was bigger than his head. As they walked, he munched noisily, cracking pea husks between his teeth, and filling the silence with bits of commentary about their hike, his words slurred with mouthfuls of food.
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Haji_Haji always stayed behind him, letting him be her shield. Mike felt flattered, thinking of himself as her protector. Once, when a pipe rattled and let out a burst of steam, his scared little princess made sure to position him between herself and the danger, even though they both knew she would’ve been safe anyway. He was certain theirs was a bond that couldn’t be broken.
Ahead, Federico continued to trudge along, either by rolling on the treads of his long rabbit-like feet or simply walking on them with steady, mechanical grace.
At last, they reached a doorway that led outside. Mike stood agog at the sight before him. The vista beyond was nothing short of mysterious—a massive hole in the ground, so vast that all Mike could think was “Hole.” He couldn’t see either side, or the far end, the edges lost in a strange fog of dust. Just the ground in front of him, and beyond that, everything dropped off into an abyss.
The descent into the hole was marked by concentric rings, each one smaller than the last as they spiraled down. Piles of dirt were scattered across the levels, and tunnel entrances punctuated the rings. Mike wondered what it’d be like inside one of those tunnels. A playful curiosity sparked in him. Large yellow pieces of equipment were strewn about here and there, like the discarded toys of giants. Near the very bottom, an enormous yellow machine vaguely shaped like a crab crouched, its immense form half-shrouded in the dusty fog.
Mike pointed toward it, awe filling his voice. “Wow, look at that one.”
Federico’s face lit up, displaying the word, “Tarântula,” followed by more detailed information.
“Advanced Extraterrestrial Exploration Robot - Technical Specifications. Manufacturer: Stellar Robotics Corporation. Description: The Tarântula is an immense, sophisticated extraterrestrial exploration robot controlled by a Neural Preservation Unit. This robot, vaguely resembling a tarantula, marries advanced AI and human neural input, providing superior performance in exploration and data collection across diverse extraterrestrial environments. Approximately 200 tons, length: 30 meters, width: 18 meters, height: 15 meters. Sensor Systems: Advanced sensor arrays...”
Haji_Haji glanced at the information, her voice sharp. “We need to keep going. We’re definitely within the range of its radar.”
Their path led them outdoors, running parallel to the towering connective corridors that stretched between various facilities across the alien surface. To their right, the massive mining excavation loomed. They were headed toward the far side of the mine, opposite the direction from which they’d come. The journey ahead promised to be long.
Mike carried his peas with what he considered to be a brave stride, marching ahead of his comrades like a man on a mission.
Between bites, he chattered, his voice unbothered by the enormity of their surroundings. “I’m curious about your story, Federico. What does an old robot like you do?”
Haji_Haji narrated the words that displayed on Federico’s monitor, somewhat telling his tale for them all to hear, translating as she went.
She began, "In the beginning, the Processador served all miners. But there was a calamity. An explosion. And then something evil infiltrated and changed the Processador. The other robots began to gather all the men and women and drag them away. Since then, I have never managed to return to Nervous. That is the place where all the answers could be found."
"My attempts to access the Nervous facilities are met with resistance. I do not dare to try to return to Processador either. So I have wandered and learned to fight or avoid others of my kind. They are possessed by demens. They are not true robots."
Mike, puzzled but curious, asked, “Why ain’t you like the other robots, then?”
Haji_Haji read aloud the next part of Federico’s words. "Unlike the other robots, I am not possessed. This allows me to operate autonomously."
Haji_Haji’s voice sharpened as she turned her attention to Federico. “Why are people being dragged into the Central Processing Facility?”
Federico’s screen displayed his reply, and Hajime’s tone shifted. "He doesn’t know why all the humans were taken into that building. But he knows none have ever come back out."
A series of visual messages flashed on Federico’s monitor, depicting scenes of him trying to save people. But his machine hands—powerful and clumsy—were as much a danger to the humans as those of the hostile robots. Despite his efforts to help, all he had received for his troubles were the scars that covered his body. Federico gestured to two long, deep dents in his frame.
The path they followed led them beneath an elevated pedestrian passageway. It was either pass under or take the long route around the building. Emerging from the shadows beneath the structure brought them directly into the sightline of another Punos robot.
This Demen Punos seemed to have been examining a derelict comet crawler parked just outside the other side of the building they’d been trying to bypass. Its shiny yellow, industrial body gleamed, and as it turned, its screen-face displayed words that Mike and Haji_Haji couldn’t read from their position. Nearby, several smaller, white spider-like robots skittered around a damaged doorway, busy sorting through debris and soldering with integrated blowtorches.
Mike, unfazed, asked aloud, “What the heck are they trying to say?” and started walking toward the other robots.
Before he could get far, Federico stretched out one of his long robot arms, blocking Mike’s path. The tension in the air spiked. Federico turned to face the other Punos, and the treads on his legs began to spin, kicking up loose dirt. The Demen Punos, seemingly aware of the confrontation, started to circle in on Federico’s position.
Without a word, Federico charged forward, leaving a plume of dust in his wake. But just as he neared the other machine, he veered off slightly, one arm outstretched. Rather than collide with the enemy head-on, Federico’s arm shot past, aiming for something more precise.
The two robots clashed with the deafening sound of steel meeting steel, like the tolling of a mighty bell. Sparks flew, scattering into the air like fireworks, illuminating the dust swirling around them. Federico spun around like the hand of a clock, his arm slamming into the other robot, clotheslining it to the ground. The enemy Punos fell hard, crashing into the dirt as Federico’s strike hit high, disrupting its balance.
Federico’s torso twisted sharply, and with his free arm, he pointed in the direction behind him. The single word flashed across his face in bold letters: Correr!
Haji_Haji didn’t hesitate. She sprinted in the direction Federico had indicated, her heart racing. Each time the two robots collided, the force of their strikes sent shockwaves through the air, causing both machines to recoil. To her, it looked like something out of a futuristic action vid—massive metal titans locked in combat, with every hit looking impossibly powerful.
Mike, meanwhile, stood frozen, staring at the fight in awe. “What?” he muttered, bewildered.
There was a sudden zip sound, and Mike's suit flared with a faint glow. He glanced down to see a thin black line, no more than a few millimeters thick, snaking across the ground toward him, stretching all the way back to one of the white spider mechs. Its scorpion-like tail had fired a grappling line at him. The other two spider-bots followed suit, their tails whipping around, launching cables in his direction. Each one pinged off his suit's shielding, crackling with energy as the grapnels were deflected.
In the background, Federico struck the enemy Punos again, this time so forcefully that the impact caused him to stand upright from the rebound. The Punos attempted to push itself up, but Federico planted his tank-tread foot onto its arm, pinning it to the ground with a loud crunch.
The three spider-bots continued reeling in their grappling cables, pulling at Mike. He watched them for a moment, and in a flat, almost detached voice, said, “They’re fishing for me.”
He stood there for a beat, processing the situation. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a memory floated up. His daddy’s voice echoed: “Migesus, if you don’t know what you’re looking at, just run away.” Mike blinked. He hadn’t ever thought to ask what to do if he still didn’t understand what he was looking at.
Slowly, almost comically, he began turning on his heel and walking away. Then, with a burst of sudden realization, he broke into a run.
Ahead, he could see Haji_Haji staring up at something along the side of one of the conveyor belts. When he finally caught up to her, she didn’t turn to face him right away. Her head was bowed slightly, and when she finally did look over, tears streaked her face. Her expression was heavy with something Mike couldn’t quite place.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, panting slightly. “You weren’t afraid I was a goner, were you?”
Haji_Haji shook her head, her lips pressed tightly together. She lifted her hand, pointing at the conveyor structure above them.
Mike followed her gaze, his eyes tracing the metal framework of the conveyor belt two meters off the ground. His breath caught when he noticed the thick red splotches covering the support beams. At first, it didn’t register. But then his eyes locked on the gruesome scene—red streaks smeared across the teeth of the belt, which was meant to convey rocks, not…this.
The conveyor ran up into a hopper. Below the hopper, the belt angled slightly upward. The sharp teeth that aided the movement of stones were coated in a sticky, grimy red paste.
“That’s blood,” Mike said, his voice barely a whisper. He took a step back, suddenly overwhelmed. He’d seen plenty of blood before, but not like this. There was so much of it, and the color—the unmistakable color—seared itself into his mind.
Haji_Haji simply nodded, her eyes fixed on the conveyor.
Then, as if to confirm the horror they were witnessing, a single drop of blood fell from the structure above. It splattered onto the dusty ground between them. Fresh.
Mike’s stomach turned.
Something blew by on the alien breeze. Haji_Haji instinctively raised her hand to shield her face. When she looked down, her hand was entangled with something—long, bloody blonde hair.
Her eyes widened as she realized what it was. From far off, a low rumble began to build, coming closer, and with it, a dark shape appeared on the conveyor belt.
It was God Love Omega, the big athlete. His massive frame zipped by them on the conveyor, flung helplessly like a discarded piece of cargo. His deep-throated screams shattered the silence, morphing into a high-pitched wail of terror as he hit the incline. The moment he reached the top of the conveyor, his screams turned into gasping breaths—agonized, tortured—and then slowly faded as his body was carried further and further away into the bowels of the facility.
Mike gasped, his face pale. "Did you see that?" His voice trembled, his usual bravado stripped away by what they had just witnessed.
Mike was grinning, eyes wide with excitement, as if he’d just stumbled onto the climax of some heroic narrative. "We have to go rescue him, Haji_Haji."
“What?” She blinked at him, completely bewildered.
"That’s what my show is gonna be. I’m gonna rescue that man trapped on that machine. Let’s go!"
Haji_Haji felt a wave of disbelief wash over her. Was he serious? “The robot said that he would be taken to the Central Processing Plant. I do not think we can rescue him. Or anyone.” Her voice was as flat as her hope.
“The robot? You mean Federico? He’s right there.” Mike gestured behind her.
She turned around, dread filling her, half-expecting another hostile machine. But no—it was Federico, their yellow-painted robot companion, limping toward them.
Her stomach twisted when she saw three long black cables protruding from his body, dragging along the silvery, sand-like ground behind him. Federico stopped as he reached them and began yanking the cables out, one by one. When he reached the last, he handed it to Haji_Haji.
Without a word, she took the cable, rolling it up in her hands, her fingers fidgeting nervously with the thin length of it. She was already thinking about how she might need it—possibly to tie Mike up if he lost what little remained of his grip on reality.
Mike, oblivious to the gravity of the situation, held out his can of snow peas. “You want one?”
She shrugged, dipped her hand inside the can, and plucked out a single snow pea. She put it in her mouth, but it tasted like nothing. Her tongue recoiled, and the texture made her skin crawl. Without thinking, she spat it out onto the ground.
Mike found this hilarious, laughing loudly, his voice echoing across the desolate landscape. "You think it'll grow?"
Haji_Haji didn’t bother responding. She didn’t care what the snow pea did—her mind was racing with far more pressing concerns.
Federico, however, had stopped moving. Dark fluid oozed from one of the holes left behind by the grapnels, and one of his legs appeared to be completely immobile. His face displayed an embarrassed emoji, followed by a crying face.
Mike, still in his casual tone, said, “Very funny, Federico. Quit playing.”
Haji_Haji, however, saw something else. The display on Federico’s monitor wasn’t a joke. She read it carefully before turning to Mike. “He wants us to take his NPU to Nervous. Wherever that is. To find another body.”
A map flickered across Federico’s screen, showing their route. Mike, without hesitation, declared that they would take Federico wherever he wanted to go, as if this were just another leg of their grand adventure.
Haji_Haji sighed. She was exhausted—mentally, physically, and emotionally. But Mike needed her to explain. He had no idea what an NPU was or how to retrieve it from Federico.
After a bit of back-and-forth, she managed to convince him that “Federico” wasn’t the robot itself, but rather a long cylinder housed in the back of the machine. The only way Federico could travel with them any further was if they took the cylinder—the Neural Preservation Unit—along and hoped to find another robot body or reach Nervous, wherever or whatever that was.
Reluctantly, Mike knelt beside the damaged Federico, ready to begin the process of extracting the NPU, still not fully grasping the gravity of what they were about to do.
She said, “that’s his NPU.”
Mike removed the device from Federico’s body, replacing the now lifeless robot with his can of peas. Together, he and Haji_Haji continued on their odd quest: to escape by rocket, rescue God Love Omega, return Federico’s NPU to Nervous, and—somehow—win the show they were supposedly on.
Federico’s once vibrant screen was now just a dull, lifeless black. Carrying the NPU quickly became an irritating burden for Mike, and the weight of it—both literal and emotional—began to wear on him. His thoughts turned sour, and he found himself growing frustrated with Haji_Haji. She wasn’t acting like herself, not at all. Back home, in his AVP, she had been everything he imagined—cute, smart, funny, perfect. But now? Now she was distant, different. She wasn’t even shy around him anymore, the way he had loved before. No, she was acting…competent, something Mike couldn’t quite grasp.
As they neared the entrance to the Spaceport, Mike’s mind lingered on these thoughts. The towering doors loomed ahead, but before either of them could attempt to open them, they parted on their own. A woman in a spacesuit with a helmet stepped forward, followed by a man, also in a suit but without a helmet. It was Emily and Professor Darnell.