A full day had passed since our successful water retrieval mission. For a while, we rested and recovered. Neight, in particular, was feeling the strain, so he barely left the lab. Meanwhile, I finally managed to start cleaning and get the ship back into decent shape. It took everything I had to scrub down the storage area, where bits of greenveg were stuck to surfaces and starting to rot. But the sense of satisfaction I felt when everything sparkled and shone like a mirror was worth every second.
If I’m being honest, though, nothing compared to the joy of taking a real shower. Words can’t describe the bliss I felt at finally being clean again. After washing up, I climbed onto my top bunk and opened my notebook. One of my go-to activities during downtime was reading various manuals and system documentation for the ship, which Neight had transferred to my notebook. I’d read the user guide for the multifunctional analysis and processing device cover to cover, so I started browsing other files. Among them were documents on the closed-loop water supply system, general information on the capsules and their capabilities, and lots of other useful materials. But my gaze landed on the very last file, titled "Autopilot System."
That’s the AI Neight activated during the storm.
Driven by curiosity, I tapped on it, eager to uncover its secrets. I could already picture myself in the captain’s seat, piloting the ship. But my excitement quickly deflated when an error message popped up:
"File cannot be opened. Data corrupted."
"Great…"
Muttering my disappointment, I set the notebook aside and flopped onto the bunk.
So much for being the ship’s pilot... Unless Neight gives me the complete file or teaches me himself. But would he even want to?
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Another few days went by.
Finally, I was no longer spending my time in solitude, as Neight had recovered enough to rejoin me. At least now he looked as well as he did before the incident with the giant water worm. He was still in a cast, of course, which wasn’t surprising, but there were no longer any signs of fatigue or exhaustion. His eyes were clear once more, radiating calm and confidence.
We tried to return to our usual routine, although our outings remained brief and only took place during the first half of the day, when the daylight was at its fullest. Fortunately, we soon discovered another type of edible fruit—bright orange with yellow highlights. They tasted sweet with a hint of astringency, something between mango and persimmon. Despite all the hardships, these days turned out to be fairly lucky and productive.
One afternoon after dinner, I planned to head to my quarters to read about the ship’s systems before bed. Neight typically went to the lab overnight, claiming it helped him recover more effectively. But this time, he had different plans. As usual, he finished his meal with surprising speed and stood up from the table.
"I’ll be in the control room, continuing data recovery," he announced.
I frowned, remembering the way he had almost hypnotically tapped at the keyboard, muttering nonsense to himself. But before I could say anything, he swiftly left the kitchen.
----------------------------------------
"Off to work on your data again?" I asked when we found ourselves with a couple of free hours.
Ever since Neight had started feeling better, he’d been constantly busy, not allowing himself a single moment to relax. It was either work or sleep for him.
"Yes", he replied curtly.
Does this guy even know what a break is? At this rate, he’s going to lose it.
I worried that he was once again taking on too much and that it might end up backfiring. Sure, in a way, it’s none of my business, and I’m not exactly in a position to tell him how to spend his time. But on the other hand, we depend on each other. If something happened to him, I’d be in serious trouble too, so I had to try to intervene.
"Hey, maybe you should take a break? You know, it’s important to rest every now and then. Weekends weren’t invented for nothing."
He looked at me, then narrowed his eyes slightly and gave a faintly condescending smile.
"I understand what you’re getting at, but I’ve never had weekends. And I don’t think I need them."
I stared at him in surprise.
"W-wait… Sure, you lived in a lab and all, but there’s no way you never had even a minute of free time, right?"
"That’s exactly how it was," he replied, completely serious. "I was either involved in tests or sleeping."
If I hadn’t been sitting, I might have collapsed on the spot.
Monsters! How could they treat a living person like that? And he even says he’d like to go back to those conditions, to live as he did before…
"Neight, that’s not normal. You must understand that," I said, trying to find the right words. "Besides…" I paused. "I’m sure that things are very different now compared to what you were used to. If you don’t take breaks, you might not have the strength left when it really matters."
He frowned and seemed to think about it. I hoped I had gotten through to him.
"I don’t know how to rest," he finally said. "And I’m not going to sit around and do nothing."
"No one’s asking you to just sit there staring at the walls. You can still find something entertaining to do."
"Like what?"
I gave him a sly smile as a brilliant idea came to mind. He must’ve sensed I was up to something, because he looked at me cautiously, crossed his arms, and leaned back a little.
"Well, for example, we could play a game. I’m sure you’d enjoy it."
"A game, huh?"
It seemed my suggestion piqued his interest. The tension vanished from his face, replaced by an almost childlike curiosity that lit up his eyes. I was momentarily thrown off, surprised at how his serious, cold expression could shift into this genuine, open excitement. It was like the time he tried that blue-berry jam for the first time. Was his life really so hard and bleak that little things like this could bring him so much joy? I felt a pang of sadness, but at the same time, I was pleased to have found a way to get him to take a break.
"Yeah, it’s called 'Battleship.' My mom taught me when I was a kid. Let me explain the rules," I continued. "We’ll need notebooks."
I moved closer so he could see my screen clearly and follow along. I quickly created two 10x10 grids, numbered the rows, and labeled the columns alphabetically.
"You have two grids here," I said. "The top grid is where you place your ships, and the bottom one is for marking your turns and tracking down my ships. Ships come in different sizes and can take up one to four squares."
I began sketching the different types of ships along the side of the grid, and Neight observed carefully, copying everything into his own notebook.
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"Here, let me show you an example of how to position the ships."
On my top grid, I placed a single-square ship in the upper left corner, with the rest scattered randomly below. I aligned two two-square ships along the left and right edges, approximately in the middle. Parallel to each of those, with a two-square gap, I placed two three-square ships, and finally, the four-square ship had a free area at the top.
"That’s one way to arrange them. The main rule is that ships can’t be placed next to each other."
"Got it," he said, nodding.
"Once both players are ready, the game begins. The player whose turn it is calls out a square they want to check on the opponent’s grid. Let’s say you call 'A1.' I have a single-square ship there, so I’d tell you that you 'sank' it. On your bottom grid, you’ll mark your moves to keep track of which squares you’ve checked and how many ships you’ve sunk."
Following my instructions, he placed an X in the A1 cell and put dots around it.
"Exactly. When you sink a ship, you don’t need to check the neighboring cells since two ships can’t be adjacent. We go back and forth until one of us sinks all the opponent’s ships."
"I think I get the rules," he said, sounding satisfied.
"Great, then let’s give it a try!"
I was feeling excited, too, as I started placing my ships, eager to see if I could beat him at this game. He might be new to it, but he was clearly good at planning and strategy, so I wasn’t going to go easy on him.
Where should I put the single-square ships? They’re usually the hardest to find… Maybe putting them in the corners is a dumb idea… Or would he assume I wouldn’t place them there and not check?
After a bit of thought, I eventually placed one single-square ship in cell A1 and positioned the others in spots I thought were less obvious. Feeling like a devious mastermind, I could almost picture myself cackling with villainous glee.
"Ready," I announced with a mischievous smile.
"I’ve finished setting mine up too," he replied casually.
"Go ahead, take the first turn," I suggested. "You’re the beginner, after all."
He gave a sly smile.
"A1," he said confidently.
"Sank."
Got you in my trap! I thought. Now you’ll think it's that easy, but wait until the disappointment hits.
"C7," he said next.
I looked at my board, and my smile instantly disappeared.
"Another sank."
Sinking two of my single-cell ships in a row? I guess beginners are lucky.
My eyes nearly popped out when, right after that, he sank a third single-cell ship. A smug grin spread across his face.
What the heck?
"H2."
"How is this even possible!" I jumped up as Neight sank my last single-cell ship. "There’s no way you could guess like that on the first try. Were you peeking? How did you find them all so fast?"
He looked at me in surprise, caught off guard by my reaction.
"When you were placing the ships, I could roughly figure out where you hid them based on your movements..."
Hearing his answer nearly made me explode, but I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.
Calm down, Emma, calm down... He’s new to games, after all.
"Look, you’re not supposed to know where my ships are ahead of time; otherwise, what’s the point?"
"Sorry, I didn’t know that was against the rules. Want to try again?" he asked apologetically.
"Alright."
Clearing the board, I started thinking about my new setup, though I felt a slight tension this time. Occasionally, I glanced over at Neight to make sure he wasn’t sneaking a look, and relaxed a bit when I saw he was entirely focused on his notebook, not even looking my way.
"I’m ready," he said.
"Hold on a second, I’m almost done," I replied, hiding my single-cell ships again. "There, all set. Your turn."
"A1."
"Miss," I said proudly, letting out a sigh of relief.
Hopefully, we’ll be able to play normally this time, I thought, and took my turn.
But it was too early to celebrate. Though Neight missed a few times, pretty soon, he somehow started pinpointing my ships again with shocking accuracy. Finally, I couldn’t hold back.
"L-listen, I don’t mean to be rude, but something feels off again. Be honest—how did you figure out where I placed the ships?"
He looked at me in surprise and seemed a little embarrassed. Maybe he was starting to wonder if he was playing the right way.
"From your expressions and tone of voice. When I missed close to your ships, you seemed more tense and focused. So, I used that to narrow down the search zones."
For a second, I was speechless, regretting suggesting this game to him in the first place.
"T-that’s not exactly how this game works... We're not playing poker or 'I Doubt It,' after all..."
"What’s 'I Doubt It'?"
"Never mind. You’re really only supposed to use the game board itself and the information on hits and misses."
"So reading an opponent’s emotional state is against the rules too?" he asked, a little confused.
"Not exactly against the rules, but it’s not really the point. But maybe I’m partly to blame for being so obvious."
"Shall we try again? If you want, I can avoid looking at you or even turn away," he offered.
I sighed, but I couldn’t refuse him. So, we started a new game, and this time I focused hard on keeping my emotions in check. Although I lost again, at least this defeat felt fair. I only had two of his single-cell ships left to find, but Neight had managed to sink mine first.
"You almost won," he reassured me, as if I were the beginner, not him.
"Yeah, that was a solid game."
"Want to play again?" he asked calmly, though the sparkle in his eyes showed how much he was looking forward to it.
How can I say no to that?
"Sure, let’s go," I smiled.
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I lost five games in a row.
We were finishing our sixth game, and we were neck and neck as usual. But this time, I was certain I could finally beat him. A fierce competitiveness had taken hold of me, and I wasn’t planning on stopping until I’d defeated this crafty strategist! Though I was burning with excitement inside, I tried to keep a calm appearance on the outside. After so many games, I felt I was getting pretty good at it. It even started feeling like some sort of training in controlling my voice, expressions, and body language. But what I enjoyed most was that we’d settled into a relatively relaxed conversation.
"So, it’s been almost 700 years since the start of the war with AI? Hard to believe."
"To be exact, it’s been 691 years. By the way, you missed again. B8."
"Miss. Just think… I never imagined I’d sleep that long in cryo. And you say they put you to sleep later? What year were you born, if you don’t mind me asking?"
"2054."
"Hah, I thought I’d be older than you! That would make me five years your senior if it weren’t for the catastrophe."
Just like with Albert...
"Yeah, yeah, you’d be older. Your turn."
"I2."
"Miss."
"Darn it, where did you hide it?"
He smiled in response. "You’ll find out when you find it—or lose again. B9."
"Miss."
He was pretty close. My last remaining single-cell ship was hiding in C9.
"H3," I said hopefully.
"Miss again."
Neight fell silent, thinking carefully about his next move.
This is it… it’s over…
"C8."
Thank goodness!
"You missed," I said, pleased.
As I picked from the last three options, I decided to ask something else.
"Neight, listen. Remember those instructions and documents you sent me on the notepad?"
"Yes. And?"
"One of the files I was really interested in was damaged. The autopilot system."
He looked at me closely, narrowing his eyes with a hint of suspicion.
"I thought you hated AI."
"Well, not exactly hate…" I hesitated. "It’s more like I view it with caution. Especially after… Well, you know… after uprising. It’s complicated since my parents… they were the ones who worked on AI development. I would understand if many people resented our family for it…"
I surprised myself by bringing up the topic. He hadn’t forced or asked me to share it. But somehow, I wanted to tell him. Maybe I just wanted to get it off my chest, as if I, too, bore some responsibility for the catastrophe.
"Yeah, maybe that’s true," he said quite directly. "But if you want to know, I want to say I don’t feel any resentment toward you, your family, or AI."
"Thank you, Neight…" I murmured quietly, looking away, feeling a sense of relief.
"As for the file, I can send you a complete one after we finish this game. By the way, if you haven’t forgotten, it’s your turn now."
"Right," I replied, a bright smile spreading across my face.
I looked at the board again. Only three cells remained, each in a different location: B2, F7, and I9. All I could do was rely on luck.
"F7," I said, making my choice.
Neight grinned.
"You won," he said, showing me his notebook, where a cross had just marked the location of his last single-cell ship.