Prologue

There was no skin left on her metallic body and the sensation of pain had long been turned off alongside any non-essentials. She was lost, everything looked the same, and there was no point in running around in circles. She knew the risks of this journey, and took it anyway, there was no other option. 

 She tried her GPS one last time, only for her battery to fail, her last memory saved incomplete and her body left behind in the sea of rock and sand, all the hope lost alongside her.

Log. 29668.f

Turn on. GPS. Last

 Chapter 1

Log. 29364.d

Extra battery. Charging. Original.

The desert was much different from the forest Ganen grew up in. Her nose was burning from the dry air and her hair was pure chaos. She gave up fixing it that morning, tied a colourful headband around her tight curls and settled for it. She wasn’t there to party.

A long, noisy yawn escaped her mouth; it was difficult on such cold nights; the hot days were not so bad, she was used to the hot weather, what she missed most was the rain and the freshness of never ending water.

At least her research was going well, understanding the past events could give her clues on what happened to Gaya. On how the old world ended. Maybe she could escape from fate, if destiny was kind enough. 

Voices from outside caught her attention, she closed her eyes and waited until someone knocked on the wooden door, which didn’t take long:

— Oi you, may I come in? — A familiar voice called.

— Of course you may! — Ganen smiled. 

She sat on her desk as Séra pushed the door open and walked it with good news written all over her freckled face.

— Hello there. Ya won’t believe what was found less than an hour ago.

— Will you tell me? — Ganen knew how the woman liked her dramatic pauses.

— Some children found it. They were playing by the dunes. — Séra got closer and rested her arms on Ganen’s knees.

— Come on, tell me already! — She smiled full of excitement, Ganen intertwined her fingers with Séra and pulled cher loser. It was sweet seeing her blush.

— They found an arm. — she managed to say after a deep breath. — Buried in the sand.

 — An arm? — Ganen got confused.

 — I’ll show ya. — Séra pulled her up. — But you’ll have to endure Treiny’s presence a little longer.

 — Oh no. Why?

 — He’s the one with its location, and he refused to tell me.

 — I hate his guts. — Ganen mumbled as she wore her safety goggles and adjusted the canvas bag on her shoulder.

 — I know, but he’s useful, so we endure. Come on, we got a car.

 — A car?!

 Séra nodded with a proud smile; Sand City had ten cars, all adapted to drive on the sand, and getting permission to use them out of the city or the tunnels wasn’t easy, but Treiny — the golden boy — was sitting on the driver’s seat, and he could get almost everything he wanted. Except for Ganen. She sat in the back and let Séra take the front seat.

 — Oi, drive us to the mystery arm, will ya? — Séra asked.

 — Didn’t know you were tagging along. — Treiny stared at her; maybe if he wished really hard she would take a hint and leave.

 — Come on. — Ganen poked him from the back seat. — Or give the coordinates, and we’ll walk there.

 — I’ll drive you there, there’s no need for walking so far. — He gave up and turned on the car. — You two would be lost without me, anyway.

 — Eh, it wouldn't be that bad. — Séra shrugged as the car started moving.

 The Sand City was large, far away from any other human groups. One could describe it as the largest sand castle they’d ever seen, but its secrets laid deeper. Treiny had memorised the large tunnel system beneath the city, and he could find any lost soul in those dark corridors. For that, he was useful. 

 That was why Ganen first contacted him. When she arrived and asked to study the tunnels, they walked together for kilometres; the old walls told stories from a past long forgotten, when the Moon swallowed the Sun, Gaya was embraced by darkness, and the surface was too dangerous. 

 Humans lived within those tunnels for who-knows how long, and their stories were everywhere, paintings, fossils, old artefacts, old tech that might have survived the years. No one knew what really happened, that piece of history was lost too long ago.

 It was obvious the Sun won that horrible battle, clawing its way from the depths of the Moon’s darkness, but the planet and its people were scarred forever. Ganen would say those were all stories, no more than folklore, and Treiny would frown; he liked listening to her, but he didn’t like at all what she had to say.

 — Oi, those children were playing quite far away, ain’t it dangerous? — Séra looked around, a little concerned.

 — Well, it’s a bit, but as long as they can see the city, they can make their way back. — Treiny didn’t take his eyes off the path. — It’s the first thing we’re taught, trust the little ones, will ya?

 — It makes me a bit nervous, that’s all. — She crossed her arms and rested her feet on top of the glove compartment. — Lost kids ain’t something I can fix.

 And that was quite the statement, since Séra could fix about anything anyone took to her. She was the precious Sand City mechanic with magic in her hands. From broken cars to inefficient aqueducts, she was the one to call. She even fixed Ganen’s foldable datapad in secret when the screen wasn’t standing still — and she had never seen a datapad in her life.

And Séra was also kind and approachable, she wouldn’t boast about her skills and always tried hard to do things. While Treiny was a spoiled prince from birth, Séra worked hard to be who she was today.

Log. 28482.m

I should have brought someone. The sandstorms are very sudden, and my skin is thoroughly destroyed.

The strong wind was shaking the car on the sand, and Ganen was glad she wore her goggles. The only thing worse than sand in her undergarments was sand in her eyes. On the flipside, maybe the wind would help dig out whoever’s body was out there.

 Treiny stopped the car, they got the shovels in the back, and walked up the dune. To Ganen’s surprise, a bright metallic hand rose above the sand, clawing towards it’s freedom. Her eyes shone, she never imagined finding a piece of a Machine in the middle of the desert. She almost fell to her knees as she ran towards that hand, towards what could be the greatest discovery of the decade. 

 The metal was warm to the touch, almost human, and Ganen held those fingers which so easily intertwined with hers.

 — We have to dig it out of the sand. — she said, a captain to her crew.

 — Do we? — Treiny hated the idea; he wished the thing’d never been found. — I mean, Machines are dangerous objects on the best of days. 

 — They’re fascinating. — Ganen replied.

 — They destroyed our world. — he insisted. — It shouldn’t make you so excited.  

 — Some say they could have a conscience of their own. Maybe not all of them were evil.

 — We don’t even know if it’s still whole. — Séra pushed Treiny aside and started digging. — I would love to take one of these apart.

 The man grunted, but once the other two were digging, he couldn’t let himself fall behind. The more he dug, the more his head was filled with all the many theories about the Machines, how dangerous they could be, and as the arm led to a pair of shoulders, his many fears started to power over him. 

Technology was a dangerous thing, cars were safe, because they were tools controlled by humans, they couldn’t wake up one day and take over the world, but electricity scared him a bit. He would much rather stay in a dark tunnel than have wires running on the walls, the constant buzz invading his head would drive him crazy. No, the bioluminescent moss was good enough.

 Séra, however, was as excited as Ganen; they laughed and talked about how amazing it would be if it was complete, all the things they could learn from it, the benefits it could bring to humans as whole. 

It was different being around the outsider, Ganen wasn’t afraid of light and screens, the keyboard made writing so easy and her datapad could make all sorts of difficult calculations. It was a dream come true. Besides, it was easier carrying the old thing around than carrying a pile of books.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

 — Oi, this Machine has all the parts. — Séra wiped the sweat off her face. 

 — We can’t go in the city with it. — Treiny declared.

 — What do you mean? We must! — Ganen was baffled. If this was in Tree City, people would be thrilled. — We can’t just let it here.

 — We could dismantle it, take the parts.

 — No, no, no, no, no! Treiny, do you not get it? This is… this is huge! Come on, I’m sure you can keep a secret. No one has to know.

 He looked around, it wasn’t as if he had told anyone about it, and the kids had only seen the hand. 

 — Please, for me? — Ganen blinked her eyes, and Séra held her laughter. 

 — Fine. — Treiny grunted. — But I can’t stress this enough, do. not. tell. anyone!

 They started lifting the metallic body from the sand, it was stiff and the members wouldn’t budge at all. As one hand grasped beyond, the other held a battered leather satchel tightly to its chest. Ganen tried to separate them, which proved nigh impossible, so she decided to try again later when she had the necessary tools available. Maybe some oil could help them move the arms around, and worst case scenario, Séra said she could try to take one of them off so they could investigate the satchel.

 They had to lower the back seat to fit the Machine, and Ganen sat beside it, holding a blanket around it like a mother protecting her child. Séra kept looking at them and chatting non-stop as Treiny drove in utter silence; the idea of that thing waking up in the car and killing the three of them was all he could think about. 

Once in the city, they made sure the metallic body was well hidden before moving it to Ganen’s hired house. It was heavy and cumbersome, even for Séra’s strong arms, and they all sighed in relief as it was laid on the table.

 — Try to lock your door somehow. — Treiny said before leaving; his desire for Ganen wasn’t bigger than his fear. — And, again, do not tell anyone! As far as everybody’s concerned, it was just a glove or something.

 — I cross my heart and hope to die. — Ganen made an X above her heart and smiled as the man left.

 As she stared at the wooden door, nothing keeping it closed besides a wicker ribbon, Ganen thought Sand City had to be one of the safest places to live; maybe having the constant threat of the harsh weather was enough to unite people.

 — I’m gonna get my tools. — Séra interrupted her musings. — You stay put, I’ll be right back.

 Ganen nodded, then went back to her Machine. She touched the stretched arm, let their fingers intertwine once more. It looked very human. Its eyes were closed shut, and it seemed to have a mouth. There was a small protuberance for a nose, and the other hand grasped the satchel so firmly, as if its life depended on it. 

 The body was androgynous, like a doll or a mannequin, and soon she noticed small round ridges all over the metal surface. She wondered if they had a purpose or were purely aesthetic; the latter made her question if the Machines had any sense of self. 

Body modifications were a sign of culture and community, Ganen herself had vines tattooed all around her arms, like most adults from Tree City, a leaf for each of her achievements as a person, a student, a researcher, so perhaps there was a chance not all Machines were evil, there was a chance some of them had culture. 

She wanted to turn it on. She wanted to ask it all the questions in the world, she wanted to know if there was a future for herself. Her hand rested on its forehead and Ganen wondered what its brain was like. She wondered if it could forget things, make mistakes, think on its own.

The door sprung open and she jumped with Séra’s sudden hello. 

— What are you doing? — Séra asked, her face red from walking around in the sun.

— Nothing, I was… — Ganen starred at the Machine one last time. — I was lost in thought. You got your tools?

— Ya, I got them all. Let’s try some oil first, maybe this poor thing is sorta rusted from literally being under the weather for so long. And, if I’m not wrong, it was not so far from the aqueduct, so… ya.

Séra put her heavy tool box on the desk and took a small clay bottle from it. With a large dropper, she started slowly pouring the oil on the articulations as she tried to move them. She had quite the experience with rust old metal parts.

Both women treated the metallic body as a relic, but whilst Ganen had some sort of respect, believing it could be somewhat human, Séra treated it as a machine, no different from the cars she was used to working on.

The sound of children running around and people walking by brought Ganen back from that worshipping state, and she remembered the doors had no locks. She looked around her small house, there wasn’t much she could use to block the entrance, so, for the moment, she decided to push a large chiffonier and tie the wicker ribbon tighter.

— How are we gonna get out, love? — Séra asked without looking at her.

— The windows are large enough. — Ganen examined her work and deemed it good enough. — Besides, you know you don’t have to leave.

— Uhm, you wanna shut me in with you and your Machine? — The engineer chuckled.

— We can have a weird thre…

— Don’t finish it. — Séra put the clay flask down. This time she couldn’t hold back her rather nervous laughter. — Don’t.

— I’m just joking. — Ganen wrapped her arms around Séra’s waist and rested her head on the woman’s shoulder. — Is the oil working?

— I think so. — She snorted, then moved one of the arms a little. — It’ll take some time, though.

— May I help?

— Ya, just be gentle. We don’t wanna break our new toy.

— Yeah, don’t worry. 

The work wasn’t hard, but it was slow. Dripping the oil, then trying to move the articulations a little, then dripping again, always careful as to not bend or crack the metal. Séra was more patience, but Ganen got tired of it quite quickly, and decided cleaning the Machine was more interesting. 

With one of Séra’s brushes, she started taking the leftover sand from the ridges and creases. For a moment, she worried about taking all of that sand off the floor, then remembered she was in the middle of  the desert. No one would judge her for some sand inside her house.

Log. 27001.k

That's it. Here I go, for my next adventure. Perhaps the last. I hope not.

They eventually paused for some lunch, Séra’s stomach had been complaining for some time already, and she had brought a pot of fried fat and juicy beetles. Before they sat down, Ganen double checked if all the windows were tightly closed, then got a bottle of dark agave syrup and made them some juice.

The syrup was quite popular in the city, agave was once of the most abundant plants, it could be found in almost every house, and it was always a perfect match with the insect protein. They were small and didn’t need much to grow in numbers, perfect for a desert, and Séra’s seasoning brought them to perfection — crunchy and salty on the outside, smooth and spicy on the inside.

— Family secret. — she explained with a wink. 

— Well, if you decide to visit my city, I can show you the recipes we have there; lot’s of fruit, it’s quite different from here.

— You never talk much about Tree City. — Séra munched for a bit. — Why is that?

— I don’t know, I guess there’s not much to tell. — Ganen shrugged. — It’s the opposite of here, humid, lots of water, trees, birds… 

— I suppose they’re much more lenient with tech than we’re here. — she suggested, her mouth full.

— Yeah, well, I do have a datapad. They’re not uncommon and one of my cousins is trying to replicate them. The physical parts are not that hard once you study them, but understanding the programming is tricky. I’m not sure I could program mine if I had to. 

— It makes one wonder how people used these things in the past, eh?

Ganen nodded, then glanced at the Machine. Perhaps all their answers laid deep down inside that metal head. The woman got up and started looking for a cable entrance, a hole, a flap, anything that could resemble a port. She found what seemed to be one, but it was damaged beyond repair.

— Shit. — she cursed. — I thought I could try and plug it to my datapad, do you think you can fix this?

Séra ate her last beetle and crouched beside Ganen. She touched the entrance on the nape, at the base of the skull, tried to pry it open with a flat screwdriver, but it looked melted.

— I don’t know, love. It kinda looks like this was not an accident.

— You think it was broken on purpose? — Ganen was doubtful. 

— I don’t know. — Séra repeated. — Maybe it was a manufacturing glitch or something. What I’m saying is, it looks like no accident. I mean, the entrance is gone, but it doesn’t look like the rest is damaged. — She got up with a wary look on her face. — I guess you ain’t gonna plug it to your thing.

— I guess not. Well, we still gotta try the satchel, so let’s go back to stretching those old metal arms.

— Let’s do it.

After that, it wasn’t long until they could move the arm quite enough to get the satchel off, and Ganen’s smile was a good reward. A single sight of those dark lips was enough to melt Séra’s heart in a second. 

They sat on her bed, both the table and desk were occupied, and Ganen stared at the satchel resting on her legs. There was a moment of silence before opening it, the air intense with excitement and expectation.

She took a deep breath and flipped the bag open;  its content, however, was confusing. Deep down she expected a book, notes, maybe a faded and fragile picture, not these many black blocks. She took them out one by one, they were of different shapes and sizes, some were squares, others small rectangles, some were thick and others were paper thin.

— What the… — Séra got one and brought it close to her eyes. — They also have weird little openings. Do you think they are, like, teeny tiny datapads?

— They could actually be.

Ganen got up with one in hand, checked the opening on it and on her datapad. They were similar, but not equal. That’s when an idea hit her; maybe she could connect those. 

She turned around to see Séra trying to force one open and she almost screamed to stop her; those were fragile and who knows how old, but there was a slim chance she had a pairing cable.

— Stop-stop-stop-stop-stop! — She held Séra’s hand, and put the block back on the bed, as she would with a baby bird. — I have an idea. 

She had put her tech items in the chiffonier, in the only drawer with a key, and once she had all her cables in hand, she sat down by Séra and told her they should separate the blocks according to their openings. 

There many different kinds, from large to small, completely hollow or with a small slab in the centre, round, rectangular, squared, in all shapes and sizes. Some groups seems a bit older than the others, so maybe they’d have more chances with the newer ones.

In the end, only a single one of them matched a cable she had.

— Oh. My. Fucking. Stars. — Ganen brought the block to her eyes and connected it with the cable. That simple movement filled her with goosebumps. — Do you fully understand what this means? We are about to travel to the past. 

— Are you sure? — Suddenly all the fear her people preached, all the caution and vigilance against technology, against robots, Séra was taught as a child made her double think. — I mean… what if… — She glanced at the Machine laying on Ganen’s desk. — What if that wakes it up?  

— They’re not connected.

— You don’t know how the Machines worked. 

— Trust me on this one. — Ganen held her hands, the calloused hands who always worked so much. — And, come on, don’t tell me you’re not curious. 

— Oi, I am curious. It’s just… 

— What would your aunt do? — Ganen knew that was a low blow. But she also knew it was the right question. Séra grunted a bit before answering.

— Fine. But if that thing turns on, I wanna be holding the heaviest shit from my toolbox. 

She grabbed a hammer and held it tightly with both hands as Ganen turned her datapad on and connected the cable. She was also somewhat apprehensive, but her curiosity, her need for information towered over her petty fears. 

A little box popped up on the screen, all the little letters intoxicated her with enthusiasm. It posed a question, Your memory device is ready. Do you wish to open it? Ganen clicked yes as Séra stared at the Machine, ready to attack. 

Another box popped up with dozens of little folders. She chose the first, and saw the many icons, tiny little papers, take over the screen. She clicked the first, without even noticing she was holding her breath. 

At first, the blank page almost blinded her, she was too close to the screen, but in a few seconds words and more words flooded her sight. She could not believe what she was looking at.

Log. 9898.m

I bought one of the best computers on the market; I still have enough money from selling the house. I’ve put all the necessary information by hand, I don't want to connect physically. The clerk said it had never been used, but the clerk was a Robot. If things continue like this, in a little while I’ll be wearing an aluminium foil hat.

— What’s aluminium foil? — Ganen mumbled to herself.