Mey’s neuralface resurfaced along with a log panel. Lines of codes ran up the panel at a blistering speed. Power was distributed across her hardware. Motor nerves were stimulated, and her core activity level was raised to active. The process ran without her consent and it annoyed her, though it was part of every android’s design to anticipate threats.
Mey slapped her right cheek and found a coarse leaf. She crumpled and tossed it away before readjusting her left arm where her head rested. She reran the self-calibration executable but came across an exception. Her core had recharged enough for a month’s worth of activities. Her system recommended ceasing the calibration. Mey grumbled, wishing she could override the process.
She opened her eyes. A carpet of purple grass with brown tints stretched before her. Trees with thick twisting trunks and pink leaves inhabited the place. Their roots crawled from the ground into the big rosewood puddles where several tree stumps stood. The temperature was sultry not to her liking. There was a lot of croaking and chirping that saturated her auditory components. Wet dirt from the mushy ground clung to her maid's fatigue, leaving it smeared. Mey took a deep breath.
“Eddie,” she said with maximum volume. “Not now! I have a twelve-hour flight in five hours.” Mey shut her eyes again.
Mey could use some limbs stretching after tracking hundreds of millions of hard data and state activities every day in her office. When she heard that Edward was about to travel to the front again — like he regularly did to examine the situations, Mey proposed to take the activity, which the Primus fortunately approved. It took her back to the turbulent and stressful early days of the Artificial Creationist.
It had been decades since she immersed herself in a firefight. The clamor of guns blazing, autocannons, and shells falling hadn’t changed one bit. Mey wished never to see them again, yet she returned to the front regardless. If it wasn’t to allow Edward a bit of breathing space in his packed schedule, Mey wouldn’t have bothered.
Her appearance had caused some astonishment among the ranks. They were expecting to see Edward after all. Mey admitted that she wasn’t as charismatic or communicative as her husband. Every time she entered the command’s room to extract data from the Command's Table, there was always this awkward vibe that kept the room silent. Not to mention that she was wearing the maid fatigue which gave off suggestions that she was there to help with the operational chores. She technically did, by dismissing officers who lacked facts to justify the mess they made via recommendations that were forwarded to the Primus.
Mey remembered asking for a personal space after her arduous days of interviewing generals and their subordinates, down to regimental levels. The noise-free vacant room she was given helped her file the reports within a relatively short period. Once she sent her reports to the Primus, she rested on the carpet that happened to be in the room while waiting to be picked up.
But before she could return, Edward had to turn off the simulation he had cast on her. He enjoyed doing that to tease her. Mey waited for five minutes.
There was no change. Mey waited for another five minutes.
There was still no change.
Mey rubbed her eyes and stretched. She sat up and began skimming the environment. There was no way Edward wouldn't withdraw his pranks even after she asked him in a loud voice. Mey slapped the dirt and rubbed her glove on her fatigue to get rid of it. The dirt gave off an oddly refreshing odor when Mey smelled them. If this were a simulation, the dirt would disintegrate into digital particles. When Mey slapped herself, she felt that.
Mey stood up. “Eddie?”
There was no response. Mey dusted herself off and began walking.
On her way, she checked the arm bracer — the SANTET — on her right arm. It glowed with a pale golden light. The tip of her right fingers tingled as lightning arcs pranced around her arm bracer like Edward and her during the ball last month. She felt a strong Reservoir vibration in the place. She opened her palm and let it glow. The intensity of the glow indicated a power level that was magnitudes stronger than on Earth, and it fascinated her. Edward and the Primus would surely love to be here to uncover the secrets of the place.
Mey flinched when she heard growlings ahead of her. A large creature overgrown with brown fur eyed her from behind the tree. It was akin to a bear, one that was missing their two front legs. Two more crept closer from both of Mey’s flanks. The creatures bared their teeth which were sharp enough to rip and tear their victim’s flesh with ease.
Mey’s neuralface reticles locked on those creatures. Her neuromodule labeled each of them as an ‘unknown specimen’. On top of that, Mey consciously labeled them as ‘hostile’.
A log panel showed up, where hundreds of documentation lines appeared on top of each other. Her synthetic muscles heated up, and her core burned as it routed a huge chunk of energy toward her SANTET. A shock coursed through her wires and circuits. Her endoskeleton felt like melting. The SANTET glowed brighter, and she began hearing whispers. The voice was unfamiliar, but they were always there whenever she cast her sorcery. They were an indication of a successful casting.
She aimed her right palm to her chest. A meager shock swayed the grass and shook the place. The creatures flinched as a pale golden flash shone from Mey’s body. Bathing in the illumination, she felt her physical woe dissipate and her stress level plummet. All the burning feelings she felt inside suddenly vanished. A line of fire was formed between her and the bear-like creatures. Fortunately for her, that was enough to scare the creatures off. It was too early for violence. She waited until the fire died down before continuing her stroll.
Further down the dirt road, she noticed two small spherical creatures. One of them had orange fur with barely visible white stripes while the other’s fur was entirely gray. Circular reticles appeared on her neuralface and locked on them: ‘unknown specimen’. Her scaling neuromodule put the creature at about the size of Edward’s toes. Their heads were cat-like. The gray round-cat was loafing while the orange one was grooming its partner. Mey half-smiled looking at how committed the orange one was to wash the gray one.
Dark gray ashes fell on the leaves. A timid thundering noise spooked the two creatures. Mey looked around as soon as they ran away. She followed the noise and arrived at a clearing. The clouds in the distant light gray sky formed an odd reversed conic pattern as if it was pointing at something.
Mey turned her attention elsewhere. Her reticle locked on an object in the middle of the clearing. The stream of data poured into her data harvester array astonished her. The object was the latest Artificial Creationist’s main battle tank, the PT-1 Zenith.
Suddenly, the tank turned her gun toward Mey. The message icon on her neuralface flashed with a notification. Mey was equipped with network emitters in her built-in utilizer that allow local telecommunications, but she forgot to switch her connection protocol to ‘selective’, which allowed that tank to connect without her permission. Mey opened the message.
“Identify,” Gray Katie — the tank’s call sign — said.
Mey just looked at it indifferently and walked towards it.
“Halt!” Gray Katie said again. “I said identify. I do not hesitate to pulverize personnel with suspicious behavior.”
“You have no shots,” Mey replied, also through a private text message.
“You’re bluffing.”
“No, you are,” Mey said. “You have neither TL-PTs105 nor 12.7mm cartridges, no fuel, and are uncrewed.”
The tank was silent until Mey stood next to it.
“You don’t have any proof.” Gray Katie finally spoke through her external speaker. The tank's voice was akin to an automated voice response but with more intonation and emotional emphasis.
Mey used her utilizer to project a holographic panel that showed Gray Katie’s profile. The tank’s call sign, condition, production number, PZN code, and various logs relating to manufacture, activities, and maintenance histories were put on display. Mey moved the panel to her palm so it looked like she was presenting a printed document.
“I failed to find a match between you and the thousands of Maids’ dossiers in the 5th Proxy Tank Division. I’ve been trying to associate you with any active Maid units but the lack of patches or insignias is making it difficult for me to narrow down the probabilities.”
Mey crossed her arms. “You’re looking in the wrong roster, friend,” Mey said. “Try the government.”
A brief silence ensued.
“By the Primus…” Gray Katie said. “What is a Secretary General doing on a battlefield?”
“Frontline inspections.” Mey shrugged. “It was supposed to be Edward’s job. I have to help that man once in a while.”
“By Edward you mean Sir Microv Edward, the Primus’ right-hand man, the Household Manager?”
Mey nodded.
“Allow me to express how humbled I am t–”
Mey raised her right hand and stopped Gray Katie. “That’s too much credit,” she said. “We just make sure everything is going well and remove internal barriers that decelerate our progress.”
“I understand that Androids could survive more injuries than humans, but is it worth the risk to personally inform the Primus of the situation on the ground? The telve could resort to precision strikes to eliminate you.”
Mey rubbed her chin.
“To be fair,” Mey said. “It is risky, but we have a way to defend ourselves. If you ask me, the data from a trusted source would prove valuable for cross-checking. It’s worth the risk at the end of the day.”
“You have a way to defend yourselves from precision strikes?” Gray Katie said with an astonished tone.
“That's confidential. Anyway, can you figure out where we are using geolocation?”
“I propose that we are abducted to another world.”
“Sounds like a hasty conclusion.”
“The evidence is just too abundant,” Gray Katie said. “Purple grasses, pink-leafed trees, and a pack of bears with only hind legs…I am confident that you wouldn’t find these specimens anywhere in our world.”
Mey took a deep breath. “Damn it.”
Whether she was in another world or not was unimportant. She had to return to Creatio Genetrix. She still had duties to attend to.
“Mrs. Meyzherikov, look out!” Gray Katie’s tri-barrelled machine gun trained in a direction above Mey's head.
Mey turned in that direction. Her reticles locked on five objects diving toward her from the sky: birds. Their bodies resembled human livers. They were about two times larger than Mey. Their necks and legs were long. Their feathers were orange, while the ones on their head had a mix of red. Again, the reticles came up with an ‘unknown specimen’ label for each of them.
Mey studied them calmly. She added a hostile label on every bird before executing Renew and Retribute. The temperature of her hardware rose as her core activity was raised from active to overdrive. Pale golden light glowed from every inch of her body. Inaudible whispers filled her auditory components. She threw her right palm at Gray Katie this time. Mey waited until the birds were close enough. The flock of poultries shrieked as they opened their digits toward Mey.
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In a split second, a blinding pale golden light flashed. A deafening explosion rocked the field. The purple grass swayed. Puddles splashed and rippled outward. The five birds were now twitching and convulsing on the ground as pale golden flames engulfed them. However, the fire didn’t char their feathers. They skimmed through the birds’ entire bodies without inflicting burn injuries. The birds eventually lost their strength to move and collapsed. Their bodies remained intact as if they just died from heart attacks.
“What was that?” Gray Katie asked.
“SANTET,” Mey replied.
“The Specialized Armament to Ensure Terrific Execution of Tactics?”
“Correct.”
“I thought it allows you to sprint faster than your leg muscles allow.”
“You still have a lot to learn, Gray Katie.”
“I’m aware of my recent departure from the assembly line, but what you did there was plain wizardry.”
Mey patted Gray Katie’s side armor. “You still have a lot to learn,” Mey said, half-smiling. “Now that you’re here, I’d like to ask you for a ride.”
“Gladly, but my fuel tank is empty,” Gray Katie said. She then lowered her main gun toward Mey’s right forearm which had just flashed a pale golden light. “Unless…”
Mey chuckled. “You’re a quick learner, Gray Katie.”
“I appreciate the compliment, but it was a lucky guess.”
Mey labeled Gray Katie as ‘friendly’.
Mey kept her composure as the temperature of her hardware rose. She heard the same whispers as she conjured a pale golden lancet rod. Its form started as a particle which was then stretched vertically on both sides. Pale golden steam drifted out of the rod. A wisp burst forward and orbited the rod. The area within the orbit was roughly the size of a football field.
Mey watched Gray Katie’s fuel and ammunition indicators filling up. The tank’s engine roared, and her treads rumbled as Gray Katie moved back and forth. She aimed her machine gun toward the distant tree and fired three shots. The fired shots were immediately restored as the tank was still within the vicinity of the pale golden rod.
Gray Katie aimed her main gun toward a huge boulder. Mey heard the clothespin-shaped gun shriek. The small light beams on either side of Gray Katie’s cannon glowed one by one, ending with the one farthest from the turret. A deep and loud buzz battered Mey’s auditory components as the gun flashed a pale blue beam into the boulder. The target turned black. Electric sparks danced briefly about the hit site. Pale blue wisps dispersed away as any rock materials smitten by the beam crumbled into dust.
“Fascinating,” Gray Katie said with a slight excitement in her tone. “Standing by, Mrs. Meyzherikov.” The tank aligned her gun with her hull.
Mey gestured. “Call me Sister Mey.”
“Understood, Sister Mey.”
Mey heard the cabin hatch open.
“With due respect,” Gray Katie said. “Be my guest.”
The opened hatch was on the other side of the gun. Mey climbed up Gray Katie’s hull. She slightly pulled up her ankle-long skirt to cross the cannon with a wide stride.
“Can I…” Mey said, pointing at the other hatch upon realizing that before her was the commander’s seat. “Take the other seat instead?”
“Very well,” Gray Katie said, shutting the commander’s hatch and opening the other one.
Mey dropped herself into the seat. She twisted and adjusted her skirt, trying to make herself comfortable in the cramped space. The panels all around her were similar to the holographic panel arrays in her office. The difference was that they were way closer than she preferred. Buttons and levers were all over her face. It reminded her of the time when she had to walk through a sea of journalists who were shoving microphones into her, invading her personal space within which only Edward was permitted.
Mey began inspecting the buttons and levers one by one. The neuralface reticles that highlighted them read out their associated labels but failed to show their usage. Mey kept herself tight to make sure that she didn’t touch anything.
The interface screen in the middle dashboard came to life.
“Welcome, Sister Mey,” Gray Katie said. The line on the screen vibrated to her voice.
“You are fully automated, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am.” A smiling emoji appeared on the interface screen. “Just enjoy the ride.”
“I won’t be able to provide proper directives though.”
“I am equipped with a set of directives and protocols in the absence of operators.”
“What’s your plan then?”
Silence.
“Since you have blessed me with my defense platform essentials,” Gray Katie said. “How about I allow you the privilege to decide our first action?”
Mey just wanted to go home, but which way would lead her home? She needed more data.
“Anywhere but here.”
***
The PT1-Zenith was the state’s next step toward full automation of their army. The tank had the same chassis and engine as the trusty T199-Chord. The turret had a lower profile, and the gun was the newly-developed Protons Hypercharged with Amplified Sub-hadronic Energy cannon — the PHASE cannon. It had greater penetration than the Chord’s 130mm gun, and the projectile traveled in a straight line.
The tank’s active protection system would prevent any lock-on by guided missiles. The O3M11 optically-reflective panels attached to its turret were capable of generating a field that could either conceal the Zenith platform, or any units — infantry or vehicles — adjacent to it.
Gray Katie could still accommodate as many as three personnel: a tank commander, an operator, and a tentative hitchhiker. The tank commander dictated orders and coordinated with other tanks. The operator monitored the field, ensured functional integrity, and assisted the tank commander in their assessment. Mey assumed that Gray Katie had only been working with her tank commander in the field test for a couple of days.
Mey manually opened the hatch above and stuck her head out. She blinked repeatedly as ash-infested breezes brushed against her face. Lush hilly meadows stretched before her. A line of gray mountains stood at the horizon.
In her boredom, Mey brought up a picture of her and Edward when they were hiking through the Black Steppe somewhere at the heart of the First Continent during the winter. The photo was taken at the top of the tallest ridge in the region, the Watchserver. It was one of the rare moments where Edward ditched his slouch hat for a thick ushanka. Their gears were matching: winter jackets, carriers, gloves, cargo pants, and down to their boots. They spent two nights on the Watchserver due to how tranquil it was at that time. When everyone was at home, enjoying the heater that the Primus had bestowed them, they decided to challenge nature. It was a ridiculous idea, though it was one she had agreed on.
Looking at the sweet features of the one-hundred-and-twenty-year-old Edward made her smile. However, her mood plummeted as quickly as it had risen when reality struck. Every night, she wished to be alerted by a cry from a cradle in her private room. Her eyes had been watchful of every orphanage in the state for six decades, but there were still no candidates yet. As a member of the Primus’ Close Competent Companions, familial connection was prohibited to prevent exploitation. Her one-hundred-ninth birthday was three months ago yet she still hadn’t felt like a woman because of it.
“Sister Mey,” Gray Katie said, snapping Mey out of her gloom. “I have gathered at least a hundred distinct unknown specimens.”
Mey returned to her seat and leaned closer to the interface screen. It was difficult to remain indifferent when a war machine suddenly took an interest in wildlife documentation. “I wonder how you would benefit from that effort,” she said.
“With a little evaluation,” Gray Katie said, showing confidence. “I believe this could improve my target identification. I also notice that a lot of these creatures are too small for us.”
“Can you elaborate?”
“The scale margin between us and them was huge. We could be in a world where we are considered giants.”
“That’s an outrageous claim.” Mey tilted her head. “Didn’t you see the orange birds that had attacked us? My scaling neuromodule discerned them to be about two times taller than me.”
“My scaling neuromodule arrived at the same conclusion regarding those birds.” Gray Katie’s interface screen showed a thinking emoji. “I’m also trying to make sense of the sizable size difference between them and…” Gray Katie brought up a picture to the screen. Inside the picture was the spherical furry creature that Mey had seen herself. “Let’s say this cute cat-like creature. My scaling neuromodule puts them at about the size of an average human toe.”
“Minimal deviation from mine,” Mey said, thinking of Edward’s toe.
“However, the majority of the creatures I have documented are on the scale that supported my previous conclusion.” Gray Katie said.
“True,” Mey said. “But we don't know yet the true proportion between the small creatures like that spherical cat and the large creatures like those birds. If the proportion between the small and large creatures you've captured doesn't represent the same proportion of the entire population, I will disagree.”
“The problem is, we have no idea of the size of the population we're dealing with.”
“That’s why I refrained from making any conclusions.”
Gray Katie was silent for a while.
“I think that's applicable if you can obtain all the information. I am made to operate in a field where that's often not the case, yet I still have to make conclusions.”
“Is that why you’re collecting data on this strange world?”
“Well…partly.”
“What do you mean partly?”
“Partly as an exercise, partly due to fascination.”
“Have you ever read a zoology encyclopedia before? I think the faunas back home are equally absurd and fascinating.”
“It was pretty boring and I stopped halfway.”
“That’s unfortunate–”
Gray Katie suddenly pulled the brake, throwing Mey against the dashboard.
“M-my apology, Sister Mey.”
Mey rubbed the part of her helmet that hit the dashboard. “What’s the matter?”
“Left side,” Gray Katie said, her interface screen showing the direction she was referring to. “Do you see it? I’m marking it on the screen.”
The reticle on Gray Katie’s interface screen was highlighting something amidst the grass: a tower. Mey increased the magnification. Its base had a greater diameter than the rest of the body and was paneled with triangular arches. The crenellations were diamond-shaped and the reinforced clay roof resembled pyramids.
“Take us closer,” Mey said.
“I will maintain Concealment Velocity.”
Gray Katie prowled toward the tower, allowing Mey to discern its size. It was slightly taller than her. She also noticed two silhouettes in there. The roof made it difficult for her to see them.
“Movements!” Gray Katie alerted through the private text channel.
Gray Katie’s reticle was now locked on the tip of the mosaic road with a bright monochromatic color ahead of them. A marching column emerged from the other side of the hill. Mey's eyes widened at what she was seeing.
The soldiers’ dark gray plate armors were endowed with a leaflike pattern. They had golden attachments that protruded and curved in a way that made them seem sharper. They wore loose plum tunic under the armor which stretched down to their ankle and decorated with pale yellow embroidery. Under that tunic was a mail shirt that was about as long.
Their bullet-shaped helmet had a golden sword-shaped diadem that shone under the light gray sky. Each soldier had a spear with an elongated leaf blade and a golden U-shaped attachment on its socket. Their kite shields looked like lancet arches flipped upside down and outlined with gold. Through the helmet’s window, Mey saw the soldiers’ dark gray skin and bright-amber eyes. Their bodies were more slender than an average human. Their heights were no more than three-quarters of her calf.
“Elves…” Mey said, through the text channel.
“What are elves?”
“Mythical beings…”
The column marched past. Their pack mules — two-legged lizards that were as big as them — followed. The elves were numbered in thousands. They stoically flowed like a river of steel, oblivious to the huge steel beast who was observing them.
Mey's reticle locked onto one of the soldiers and came up with an ‘unknown specimen’. Calling them a ‘specimen’ was pretty rude though. They deserved credit for at least being able to march in a column, though it’s not her fault that her system failed to account for the existence of sentient humanoid beings other than humans and androids.
Mey had seen countless media that stressed humanity’s encounter with aliens. They always ended up in a fateful conflict. Now, she was the alien, but she just wanted to go back to her office — a harmless interest. Starting a fight over it was good for nothing. Surely, sentient beings could reason their way out of problems without throwing hands.
“Do you think they would talk to us?” Mey said.
“I’m not sure why you asked me that. I’m not made for negotiations.”
“Don’t you want to return home and do your duties?”
“I do.”
“If what Edward told me of the elves were true, then those people should be able to bring us home.”
“What? But what if it’s false?”
Mey sighed and let her head fall against the seat’s headrest. “I don’t know. Shall we find out? You’re a proponent of field observations, aren’t you?”
“Well…I fail to see any alternatives for progress.”