Chapter 18

Log. 11784.r.b

However, there are still, in some hidden corners, organic humans. They just live. They have their farms. They’re mostly vegetarians, but some still eat synthetic protein. I can only imagine, it must be like living in another world.

There are no records of children being born for quite some time now, so I believe that part of us, inorganic humans, may be artificial intelligences. I say that because, well, the Programmer is one.

Koira was working on a prototype, something like a chainmail for the cables. She had hundreds of pictures scattered around her room, some were similar to one another, some were completely out of this world.

Qena’s parents wanted her to make something aggressive, that would make people rethink their actions before even touching a cable. As expected, Qena had a different idea — which Koira thought was easier to do —, the chainmail. It was troublesome to make, that was for sure, but she could make only a few small parts to show, while coming up with a way to make the whole thing faster.

She was chewing her pencil, her mind riddled with numbers and calculations, sizes and weights, when the power went down. The whole Underground City disappeared from her window as the artificial stars were shut off. That wasn't good; although the woman saw no problem in it. Maybe she had missed the notice of a power-saving night. It happened sometimes.

Koira got up from the chair, her palms on the table, and looked at the wall in front of her.

— Alrighty. I guess it’s sleepy time.

She wanted the prototypes to be perfect, Qena had to show them something believable, get them to change their minds, and it was impossible doing something good if she couldn’t even calculate the simple things. Maybe the power outage was a blessing in disguise.

— Argh, I need to fix my sleep schedule. It's making my work hard. — Koira explained to her cats, as they made their way to her bed.

An old woman had lived in her house before she moved, and the elderly used to feed them. Soon the feral cats became fond of humans. The elderly had died of old age some weeks before Koira arrived, and once she knew about the cats, she saw no problem in keeping them as pets.

It took some time to get their trust, but they gave her something to care about, and helped ease the pain in her heart. Now, they would sleep beside her pillow and there was a fourth one making its way into her home.

She didn't mind the darkness, in fact, she liked it a bit. It reminded her of how starless nights made her feel safe when running from Tovu. He would never follow her in such darkness.

Maybe it was raining on the surface. She could imagine the delicious sound of rain, something she came to love overtime, and miss in the large gallery underground. The smell of wet grass, the moist air, how the wind kissed the leaves and made them dance.

— Next time it rains, I might just go up to feel it on my skin. Whatcha think, kitty? — she asked the cat, but it didn't answer her. — I guess ya wouldn't like much, eh?

With a smile, Koira sat down and closed her eyes. But destiny had different plans: someone was knocking on her door.

— Holy fucking shit happens all the time, why do I keep answering? — she mumbled, then, she screamed: — Qena?

—Yes!

— Come in, I already told ya, ya ain’t gotta knock.

The door was opened, then closed, and steps walked towards her until something heavy fell on the bed.

— I'm just being polite. — Qena answered. — Can I sleep with you?

— Ah. Yah? — Koira shrugged with a yawn and moved aside so the woman could lay down. To her surprise, Qena hid her face on her chest. — Is everything okay?

— No. I'm afraid of the dark.

— Ain’t ya a bit too old for that?

— Not when I’m supposed to keep the lights working. — Qena mumbled. — The presentation will go so bad, I can feel it.

— It’ll be alright, darling. We don’t even have a date yet.

— We do, actually. — Qena made herself small between Koira’s arms and almost disappeared. — It’s tomorrow.

It was a wonder how the almost two-metre tall woman could do that. Koira hugged her a bit tighter and rested her head on her hair. It was comfortable staying like that, and it was easy to notice how Qena liked it as well. But there were serious business and she couldn’t let her sleepy brain wander around like that. However, Koira was too tired to simply go back to work.

— Qena?

— Uhm?

— Are your eyes closed?

— Yeah. Why? — Qena didn’t know where the woman was getting at.

— Well, what do ya see?

— … nothing.

— It’s dark, right?

— Yes.

— So just keep them closed, then ya won’t notice it’s dark outside too.

— That’s… kinda dumb. But I guess it could work. — She smiled. — Especially if you don’t tell me it’s dark outside too.

— Not like you didn’t already know it. — Koira chuckled. — But darkness is not as evil as people preach. It’s as natural as light, I guess. — There was a small moment of silence before she continued. — Oi, doesn’t your boyfriend get jealous when ya come here? Not that we do anything to make him jealous, but…

— I broke up with him. — Qena mumbled emotionless.

— Oh. I didn’t know that.

— Yeah, well, it wasn’t working. He’s too much of a wimp.

— Gosh, Qena, you’re mean! — Koira laughed; the woman wasn’t wrong, though, the lad couldn’t do anything by himself.

— It was getting annoying. And I was with him just because mum suggested I dated someone from Administrative Families. I’d rather date you.

Koira laughed at the idea, she had zero experience in the area, and in those first years living in the Underground City, she had never seen Qena alone.

— I’m serious! — Qena hugged her a bit tighter.

— Ya should sleep. — Koira was still laughing a little. — I need to finish the prototype tomorrow, then.

— You’re no fun, you know? — she mumbled; the younger woman disliked when people didn’t take her seriously. — But thank you anyway. — It was barely audible.

— I know. Hush now, we gotta sleep.

Qena grunted, but it didn’t take long before her breathing was slow and steady, her mind far away in the world of dreams. Koira, however, kept thinking for a long time about her words, trying to understand the meaning of that joke. She didn’t even remember there were plans for the prototype.

Log. 11784.r.a

Gaya’s population has declined sharply since the implementation of reproduction rules. Robots have taken most of the work, human beings live only for pleasure. There is nothing more to be done. Art. Art can still be done. Now with more time and virtually no physical restrictions, numerous choreography groups have emerged.

Anyone who called that a road, was deranged. The car was shaking as its suspension was no longer in the realm of the living, and Ganen was feeling motion sick. The poor woman had her head between her arms, and the window as open as possible. Just in case.

Séra tried to drive slowly, so that the car wouldn’t shake so much, but it was near impossible. The sun was still high in the sky, and none of them wanted to stop so soon, however the women decided they needed a break. Séra stopped the car on the side of the road, and turned it off.

— Thank you. — Ganen stumbled off the car and wandered towards a tree, where she laid her back on. — Just give me a minute. We can continue soon enough.

— No hurry, love. — Séra held her hands. — Take your time. I’ll try to make a bow. Some arrows.

— Sounds fun, hun. — They heard her stomach grumbling. — Go make your thing. I’ll call you if I need you, okay?

— Lemme know. — Séra knew how Ganen didn’t like being helped that much. Normally, when she accepted help, her hope and ideas were all gone.

What the mechanic didn’t know was that Ganen tried her best to keep herself independent, so that in her late years, she wouldn’t be a burden for anyone. And that included Séra. Afterall, it was just a bellyache, all she needed was to breathe slowly and the nausea would eventually go away.

Séra watched from afar whilst looking for a piece of wood. It had to be flexible enough, not too hard, but resistant. Elastic. She heard a weird sounds and her attention returned to Ganen. She was cleaning her mouth, but looked a bit better.

— Will ya need lunch again? — Séra asked, trying to add a bit of humour to the situation.

— Eh… — Ganen answered. — Perhaps later. Not if we’re driving again.

— We can rest here for the day, love, if ya don’t feel well.

— No, let’s go. — The researcher shook her head. — I wanna get there as soon as possible, so that we can truly rest for a few days.

— Fair enough. Can we wait until I finish shaping it? I made one long ago, but I wasn’t quite successful in the shooting classes.

— Yeah, we can wait. It wouldn’t be bad. Do you need help?

— Uhm, do ya think we can find some files in my bags? I’ll need to sand this one.

Ganen, feeling a bit better, got up with a short moan and started looking for the files. That was indeed better than fearing another robbery, even though the road was rather bad. They stayed there resting until afternoon, and Séra had time to finish her bow. It was quite rough, but it should work.

It was written on her face how bad she wanted to try it, and Ganen didn’t have the heart to say no. They would have to sleep in the car that night, the ground was too full of stones to sleep on it. The advantage was that they could sleep with the doors locked, as long as the windows were a bit open.

Séra missed her test targets with the bow every single time, it was hard getting used to it again. Aiming was tricky, and all her arrows were a bit crooked. If she managed to make a crossbow, maybe it would be easier.

— Do you wanna start working on it today, or tomorrow? — Ganen asked with a yaw.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

— Oh, love, I hadn’t noticed it was that late! — Séra smiled, a bit shy.

— It’s okay, hun. — She leaned closer and gave her a kiss. — Dinner is ready, I made some soup with the beetles.

— Sounds delicious, love. — Séra touched her face and returned the kiss.

They had a fast, though good dinner, and went to sleep. With the windows a bit open, after reclining the front seats and getting comfortable, the women actually had a good night’s sleep.

Which was good, because Séra wanted to wake up earlier that day, so that they could drive more. She was also anxious about that dream, and part of her was afraid of sleeping too much and living through that again.

However, sleep caught up to her in the afternoon, and they had to stop. Ganen insisted Séra should at least take a nap, but the woman insisted she’d feel more awake after working on her crossbow. Which Ganen had to take for granted.

She could notice something wasn’t right; Ganen imagined it could be the trauma of that… situation with Ori, but neither of them wanted to talk about it, it was like a vow of silence. Deep inside, Ganen knew they had to talk about it in order to accept and heal from it. Although bringing the subject up too soon could do more harm than good.

So she settled for helping Séra when she needed pieces or tools. Once more, they stayed more than planned, but it wasn’t so bad. Sleeping together was so much easier, and Séra seemed more calm between Ganen’s arms.

Then it was the third day of their trip, and the beetles were at the end, it wasn’t enough to make one single meal. They had some extras, but those would last longer, and they wanted to save it for emergencies; none of them knew for sure when they would find people again.

The moon was already in the sky when they stopped. Séra said she wanted to try the crossbow. She had practised a bit on the previous day, with targets on the trees, and felt ready to try with something else. They were supposed to be near the farms, so they should be careful — and the chances of there being something weren’t so great, but it didn’t hurt to try.

After locking the car, Ganen helped Séra find some tracks, told her how she used a crossbow a few times, back in Tree City. Everyone had a job in there, and one could try a few different ones before settling down. Ganen tried some of the most opposite of what she wanted, so that she could try options she wouldn’t have tried another way. Hunting was one of them.

After missing two bolts, Séra finally hit something. With a smile and the promise of a delicious dinner, she ran to the fallen prey and held it up. It was a fat guinea pig, the fur longer than she expected, but nothing stranger than that. When she was walking back to Ganen, they heard the cry of a child:

— You killed her! — the boy cried. — You killed Onesie, my first guinea pig!!

— Oh fuck. — Séra mumbled. — H-hey, I’m so so sorry, little one, I didn’t know she was yours. I… I can get ya a new guinea pig, how about that?

— It’s not the same! — He cleaned his face full of tears and snot. — She was special!

— Ahn… — Ganen intervened. — What if you take us to your house, and we explain to your parents it was an accident?

— Don’t ya think that’s a bit too much? — Séra was holding her weapon and prey behind her back, not knowing what to do.

— I think it’s the least we could do. — and in whisper, she continued: — Maybe we can get a place to stay for the night.

— Eh… I don’t know, but okay.

The boy looked at them, disheartened and tearful. Séra didn’t like making kids cry, they were always loud and snotty, and she was willing to try and fix that tragic accident. She opened the back door of the car and told the boy to not touch anything, then both adults got in and followed his instructions.

After a five minute drive, they found themselves in front of a small farm, a group of log houses and barns, fences and quail pens. It was a sweet little place, and it made Séra feel even worse for killing the animal. She looked at the kid through the mirror and sighed; she didn’t want to be accused of killing someone ever again, and now, there she was, going to court to confess a murder.

The parents ran out of the house, surprised by a car of all things! When the boy came out crying, bawling, the surprise turned into anger. Séra and Ganen exchanged a look, maybe it would be best to just run away, though both of them were quite sure they wouldn’t be able to eat the guinea pig after all that.

Instead, they walked out of the car and tried to explain what happened.

— So — the matriarch, a woman in her fifties called Soña, started —, you didn’t know there are farms around here, your food was ending, so you decided to hunt?

— Yes, that’s basically it. It was an accident, we would have never done it if we knew the guinea pig was special.

— In this region, all animals are special. Try to keep that in mind, ladies.

— Will do, ya can be sure of it. — Séra added. — Is there anything we can do to make up for this mistake? — The woman was embarrassed, she just wanted to leave, drive far away and deal with their stomachs the next day.

— Well, you do have a car, right? — Soña rested her chin on her hand, thinking of her problems with difficult solutions, then continued: — I need to get some goat milk from my nephew’s farm, however, our car is broken and we can’t go. And we had a fight, so we’re not on speaking terms. He said I can get the milk, but I gotta get it myself. The youth nowadays. — She had walked around the room as she spoke, then she looked at the outsiders again: — Can you do that? Your mistake will be pardoned.

— Yah, we can do that. — Séra looked at Ganen, and the woman nodded. — Yah, just give us an address.

— I’ll show you two on the map. — Soña called them closer and opened a large, detailed map on the centre table. — You may copy this if you want. Then you’ll know where you shouldn’t hunt.

Both nodded, embarrassed and annoyed, and paid attention to the old woman’s instructions.

Log. 11517.r

Today I analysed my memories of the girl's house with the Programmer. From my memories, he concluded they really were humans no more. And whatever they were coding didn't look good either. Being connected to so many things at the same time is not healthy. Not for a human being, whether they are organic or not. And, well, many of the missing unreported people were there.

I stopped believing this is just a conspiracy theory or paranoia. Something is really going on.

The Underground City was still in darkness when the clocks struck midday. The lanterns of guards going around the gallery, looking for the problem, could be seen from afar, and there was even talk of going outside and waiting for electricity to return.

Qena hadn’t left Koira’s side since last night, even when the woman lit some lanterns, and spread them around the house, but at least she wasn’t feeling as bad and before. Koira wanted to keep working on her prototype, so she brought her datapad, papers and pencils, and a small breakfast table, and set them all on her bed, where her friend was still hiding herself with the blankets.

— Hey, on the bright side, we have more time before the meeting. — Koira tried to lighten the mood. — I won’t be able to make the chainmail, but I sure as hell will design it beautifully. I must admit, I’ve never made armour before, but I’ve seen pictures, and it looks kinda fun!

— I’m glad you’re feeling confident. — Qena mumbled.

— Hey, things’ll work out, I’m sure of it.

— Will you be there with me?

— I said I was, didn’t I? — Koira smiled at her.

— My ex will be there. Because he’s from an Administrative Family.

— And? — Koira’s eyes were back to her designs. The design itself was simple, how to make it, though, and make it in large numbers, that was the challenge.

— He might ask you if we’re dating. — Qena looked at her, waiting for her reaction. — You and me.

— Oh. — She stopped and a shy smile took her face. — We’re not doing anything, me and ya, we’re just friends.

— Just because you’re dense as hell. — Qena mumbled. When Koira raised her brows, confused, Qena waved her hand in front of her face, as if it was nothing, then crawled beside the woman. — Can I see it?

— Of course ya can.

Koira was thinking of a way to mass produce the chainmail, she needed something to shape the metal into rings, preferably if they could be shaped and linked, then the mesh would come out of the machine ready to be used.

— What if we printed it? — Qena suggested. — There is a filament printer at the Office. It’s a relic, but if we can get some filament, I’m sure it can work, the Office has a generator, so… — She shrugged. — It’s worth a shot. Can you design it for printing?

— I… have no idea. — Koira made a confused face. She had heard of printers before, but only as legends from a far away past. — I guess I can try.

— But we would need the power back if we want to access the program in my house. — The woman thought for a while. — Actually, we just need to stop by my house to get my datapad, we can design it there. And I’d love a shower-stop, then I can get ready for the meeting if we end up taking long.

— Okay, that’s a lot. — Koira laughed. — But about the printer, can ya teach me? — Her eyes glistened with all the infinite possibilities.

— Of course, I can teach you anything you want. — Qena winked.

Koira ignored it, though her cheeks didn’t, and started organising her things. She packed the datapad, papers, and a change of clothes — Qena insisted —, and both left with a lantern to Qena’s house. And when the younger woman asked to hold her hand in the dark, Koira didn’t mind. She smiled, and let their fingers intertwine.

Normally, people wouldn’t leave their houses during a power outage, unless there was, for example, an earthquake; so the streets were empty, darkness only broken by the occasional lantern of a guard.

Qena rushed Koira at every minute, she didn’t like being in the dark, on the streets. It wouldn’t take long for someone to recognise her and ask what was wrong. She hated not having an answer. Once they arrived, Qena asked for silence; she didn’t want to get her parents' attention, or they would ask her questions without answers, and that would be even worse.

The woman was an expert at talking to people, changing the subject, making them believe she had solutions, even when she hadn’t had time to think about the problems. She didn’t like doing that, and she had never managed to fool her parents.

They sneaked upstairs, Qena pushed Koira into her room, got in, and locked the door. The house was huge, her whole family lived there, her aunts and uncles, cousins, her grandmother, everybody. It was easier to “grow” a house than build an entire one from zero, so as the family got bigger, so did their home.

In Qena’s room, there was a large bed, a desk full of books and papers, another one with a datapad and chair, and a small closet. One of the things which caught Koira’s attention was the amount of lotions, creams and oils, almost hiding the dresser they were on.

— It’s for my hair. — Qena explained once she saw Koira staring. — It wouldn’t be soft if I just bleached it.

— Why do you bleach it, anyway? — Koira asked. She had never thought of changing the colour of her hair.

— It’s my current vibe, I guess. — She shrugged. — Sit on the bed, I’ll get the datapad, and teach how to work the program. Once I’m showering, you can start on the design. I think I have enough battery for that.

Koira sat with a nod and a big smile; she liked being part of Qena’s agitated life.

Log. 11482.u

The day here was peaceful. But in smaller cities, that no one cares about, chaos reigns. And when I say chaos, I mean general and happy monotony. Small towns of 100 to 200 thousand inhabitants are already overwhelmed by the virus. But no one reports anything and for Physicians, these people are normal. Well, the Physicians themselves implant the virus, so I can't expect anything from them.

Séra was tired, and only Ganen’s coffee with cinnamon was keeping her awake; however, she couldn’t sleep. Sleeping behind the wheel could cause a series of problems she couldn’t fix.

The good thing was Soña let them sleep in the farm house. The bad thing was they could only sleep once they had brought the goat milk, so they could make up for their mistake and not upset little Finny. They boy could only get another guinea pig after the new ones were born, and the first guinea pig was really special! It meant he was responsible enough to enter the family business.

Séra and Ganen found the story quite interesting, though not the priority at that moment, since Soña also said they had to use the shower before sleeping. So they got to the car and started following the matriarch’s directions. No more than two hours later, goats started doting the road — the best one Séra had seen so far.

Ganen pointed to a large house, with the lights on, and Séra parked the car in front of it. A young lad looked at them from the window, as the lights hit the inside of the room; seconds later, he was at the door. He looked no older than 18 or 19, and was just a little taller than Ganen — which wasn’t much.

His blue eyes looked at them from top to bottom, then he raised his brows and lifted his chin at them; a question. Ganen looked at Séra, which returned the confusion, then looked at the lad again. He kept waiting.

— Ah… I am Ganen. — she tried. — This is Séra. Your aunt Soña sent us? For the goat milk?

He closed his eyes in understandment, and nodded. Then he opened his door, and invited them in with a wave. When he turned around, they saw a white lock of hair among the black and wavy pony-tail, and Ganen wondered how he could have dyed such dark hair to a white that white.

He pointed to a table, sat on the other side, got a piece of paper, a pen, and started writing. His house, they noticed, had lots of little lights, from blue and green, to red and yellow. When the page made its way to the women, they were startled for a second.

“I’m Gayo. What did Soña say?”

— She said you two…

The lad hit the paper a few times, then gave Ganen the pen.

— Oh. Okay.

She wrote what Soña had said, which didn’t really tell much. The matriarch hadn’t told them the reason for the fight or anything bad about her nephew at all.

“That’s nice of her. She always tries to be civil. I hate it sometimes, but I think it’s mostly good.” He wrote back. After a few seconds, he pulled the paper back to himself, scribbled something else, then gave it back to them. “It’s late. You can rest in the living room, if you want. My sister is upstairs, and you don’t want to wake her this late.”

— Okay… — They exchanged a confused look. Then nodded as he pointed to the sofas one more time.

The lad got up and started going upstairs. On the first step, he stopped, and looked at the women. He squinted his eyes, looking for anything suspicious about them, then pointed at gazelle-skin covering the wall. Once their eyes were back on him, he pointed to himself, made a cutting gesture over his neck, then pointed at the gazelle again. He pointed at his eyes with two fingers, then at Ganen and Séra.

For that one moment, he looked terrifying, and not even if they had thought of doing anything unpleasant, there was nothing they would do to upset the man that night. Soña could wait a little more for the goat milk.