Chapter 11

Eleven

Mira

Mira had no idea how long she waited for him. Only that she stared at the wall for hours on end before she had the first whispering fear that he might not come back. And maybe, just maybe, now was the time for her to plan her escape.

She’d tried to search through all the gear for flippers. Any kind of swimming fins would do, but unfortunately, she had little luck. Most of the items left down here were rusted beyond repair. And even then, there was nothing made of rubber or plastic.

How old was this place?

Given a little more time, she might be able to parse it out. But she was more likely to sit and wallow at this point.

She’d officially reached the “depression” stage of being kidnapped days ago. Denial had taken quite a while, and then she wasn’t sure if now this was acceptance or if she was back to drowning herself before he came back.

Eyeing the glowing yellow water, she had to admit, death by drowning at this point sounded better than what she was doing now. There were a few fish in there today—if it was day—and she could only guess that was because her undine hadn’t been around in a while. Otherwise, they all scattered for many hours.

She’d tried counting once. There were tiny marks on the floor where she’d used a pebble to scratch out every minute that ticked by. But then she’d gotten bored with all that about six hours in and abandoned the project.

Even now, cross-legged on the floor with the console panel’s base ripped open, wires decorating the ground around her, she couldn’t find the curiosity to keep digging. Apathy hung over her head, dripping down the back of her skull and into her spine with wet plops.

What was the point? Why try to fix the console when she knew there was nothing she could do to get it to work? Not down here. There weren’t any components to add to the sodden thing, not to mention nothing she could use to fix the rusted wires or bolts that had long since crumbled into dust. The only working tool she had was the damned welder, and that thing was at least six models old.

Sighing, she banged her head against the metal doors in front of her. Once, twice, three times, enough to knock her skull around and maybe make her see a little reason.

Mira was not the type to give up. She did not wallow in self pity. She needed to get up, make a plan, and start…

The strange whale sound of the undine’s speech interrupted her thoughts. Pausing in her banging, she told herself to just keep going. Maybe if she hit her head hard enough, she’d forget that any of this had happened at all. She could be a vegetable that he rolled around and did whatever he wanted with.

But that wasn’t the right way to think, either. She couldn’t give up, not when he was making that horrible noise over and over again. It was like he was singing to her, and she didn’t like any guy that pinned her down and tried to sing.

Of all things.

Sighing, she turned around, ready to glare at him or maybe argue for a little while. That might feel nice. She wouldn’t mind doing that.

Except she froze when she saw him. Because he was holding in his arms the single most useful item, he could have gotten her from the bottom of the floor.

“Oh, you brilliant monster,” she muttered, launching her body toward him with her arm outstretched. “Where did you find this?”

The hunk of metal might not look like much, but she recognized an android when she saw one. Her father used to tinker with these in his spare time. Relics of a time long past, they had been first used to scope out potential areas of the ocean where the cities could easily be built. It looked a bit like a square box right now, but she knew how to wake it up.

Frantically grabbing it out of the undine’s arms, she turned the android right side up and set it onto the floor. “Please don’t be waterlogged. Please don’t be rusted. Please fucking work.”

The undine watched her with a curious gaze, and she wondered if she should let him see this. The robot he’d brought her could be dead, after all, but it also could be her salvation. It might even send a message to the surface if it was one of the newer pieces.

“Ah, you can watch, I suppose,” she muttered, casting a suspicious glance in his direction. “It’s not like you understand me, anyway.”

The undine had made zero attempt to converse with her. For the most part, he’d just vaguely gestured at her and then did whatever he wanted, anyway.

Snorting, she turned her attention to the box on the ground and started in on it with her wrench. The rust was pretty extensive, more than she’d ever seen on the robots her father had toyed with. But once she got her screwdriver in the seam, the whole thing popped open with a hiss of ancient air.

“That smells awful,” she muttered, covering her nose with her hand and waving at the air. “Rank, like rotten fish.”

Even the undine reacted, although he seemed to only seal his nostrils shut and glare at her a little harder.

“It’s fine.” Mira turned toward the box and gave it a little shove with her screwdriver. “Are you awake? Or do I have to⁠—”

A small, metallic head popped out of the box. It had larger eyes than most of the robots she’d seen before. She called them eyes because they were shaped like binoculars on top of the metal pole holding them up. It didn’t blink or have any screens to give it actual eyes, but it did have little wipers that cleared away some of the gunk with a squeaky sound.

The droid turned to look at the undine and then a flash of bright light filled the room. It had taken a picture of him, and apparently that was enough to startle the creature back into the water.

Mira lunged for the droid and held it over her head as a wave splashed into the cave. The undine left in such a hurry that he’d caused a mess in his wake. Thankfully, none of the water had gotten onto the android, which might have fried all the delicate wires that had somehow survived being under the ocean for god knows how long.

“Well, and fuck you, too,” she muttered.

Mira brought the droid over to the console table just to be safe and then popped it onto the counter. “There, better. At least now you won’t get wet.”

It wiped the binoculars clear again before replying, “Thank you, strange woman. How are you under the sea as well?”

“We’re in a cave.”

“Ah.” It looked around, those eyes swiveling on the rod before it turned its attention back to her. “My designation is Beta Iota Epsilon 427. Main function is mapping the ocean floor. Upon first encounter with alien species, I was trapped underneath a rock for sixty-three thousand, eight hundred and seventy-five days.”

She couldn’t do that kind of math in her head, but that sure sounded like this droid had been down here for more than a hundred and fifty years. “Subordinate function?”

“Knowledge gathering and database preservation.”

Well, that wasn’t what she was hoping for. Some of these metal hunks had been fitted with antennae so they could contact the cities wherever they went. Clearly, this wasn’t one of them.

Sitting down hard on a stool, she stared at the little being and wished it were easier than this. “Database preservation, huh? Sounds thrilling.”

“The ocean is full of unusual life forms. I have categorized at least two thousand separate species and multiple layers of the ocean floor. Even while I was pinned underneath that rock, I was able to discover many life forms.” It paused, and one of the eyes suddenly shut off before the light blinked back into existence. “I would show you, but it appears my projector is broken.”

“That’s all right.” She knew how emotional these AI could get. Their function was to complete two jobs, and two jobs alone. This one, apparently, could only move and record what it was seeing. Useless to Mira right now, but she could see why people would create it.

The last thing she wanted was for it to overheat its motherboard because she made it angry.

It wiped its eyes again, clearly a little confused. “My designation is Beta Iota⁠—”

“You said that.” She leaned forward, clasping her hands together and staring down at her loose fingers. “Do you have a name?”

“Names are for personal androids, not for deep sea trawlers.”

“I see.” Beta Iota Epsilon. “What about Byte?”

The little robot seemed to shiver at the name, and its box even rocked back and forth a bit. “I would be happy to have a designated name if you so wish.”

“I’ll be honest, Byte. I’ve been down here for a while. I don’t know how long, but the undine you previously saw kidnapped me from my home while I was trying to fix an external panel. You’re the first person I’ve talked to in a while, and it feels good just to be able to have a conversation. So if you don’t mind just talking to me... That would be really nice.”

The side panels on the box opened, shifting to the inside so she could see the droid actually had tiny arms. They were thin and delicate, coming out of the internal pieces like little pinchers. But it used those arms to move itself a little more securely back onto the console. “I can speak with you. Of what would you like to speak?”

“Anything,” she said. “Tell me everything that you’ve seen.”

A daunting task for a droid who had seen the entire sea.

Byte started to talk, and that robotic tone made her drift through a world she’d never seen before. Jellyfish and hundreds of species of crab. Silver fish, fish that glowed in the dark, some with lights on top of their heads. It talked about the countless kinds of sharks it had seen, some more terrifying than others. Whales larger than cities were tall, and even sharks that were the same size. It spoke of the undines, and all the different kinds it had seen.

Byte had lived a life of adventure. Even though it had been pinned underneath the rock by itself, at least it had seen so many incredible things.

At some point in its storytelling, Mira had laid out on the cold stone floor. With one knee hooked over the other, she pillowed her head on her arms as she stared up at the three meager bulbs.

“Was it lonely?” she asked. “Being down there in the cold by yourself?”

“I cannot feel loneliness.”

“Oh, come on now. My father used to work on all sorts of droids. I’ve met at least twenty of your kind, and I know for a fact you were programmed with personalities. So tell me, was it lonely?”

Byte took a long time to reply. Perhaps it was firing up the parts of its hard drive that gave it a bit more emotion than other droids. But eventually, it quietly replied, “The first few months were peaceful. My functions would not work, and there was nowhere for me to go. I was afraid, and then I was at peace. Because the ocean continued on around me, and there was so much to watch.”

“But?” Mira asked.

“But eventually it was very lonely. I felt like I was the last thing alive in the entire world, and nothing could understand me.” The robot’s voice was much quieter as it responded. “I am glad to have met you, my new friend.”

“Mira,” she said quietly. “I forgot to tell you my name. But it’s Mira.”

“Mira,” Byte repeated. “It means admirable, or ocean. Depending on who you ask.”

“I didn’t know that.” But it fit. Her mother had loved the ocean, and her father had been so pleased for them to move to Beta because it was deeper than some of the other cities. They’d both loved the sea.

“I know most everything.” Byte seemed very pleased with itself. “I have spent a hundred years learning, and I have the capabilities to learn almost anything new. It is difficult, sometimes, but not impossible.”

“You can really learn anything? How?”

“Downloads are my main function, as I can hack into any other robotic system. However, I can also observe and learn.”

Observe and learn... anything?

Rolling over, she sat straight up. Perhaps she looked a little fearsome, as the little robot scooted itself away from her. “Anything?”

“Repeat the question, please.”

“You can observe and learn anything?”

Byte’s eyes zoomed in closer to her face, perhaps to read her expression better. “I can.”

“Could you learn... another language?”

“Yes.” One of its arms raised in the air like a child in a classroom waiting to be called upon. At her nod, it added, “What language do you wish me to learn? I already speak exactly thirty-seven different human dialects, including languages that are no longer spoken.”

“The undine. The one that kidnapped me and brought me here. There is no way for me to speak with it. If you could learn its language, can you then make a dialect chip for me?”

The implants weren’t hard to make, especially since they were so widely spread out. She’d seen a lot of robots that could make them on the go. It was easier for them to be made by almost every android, considering all the people who traveled between the cities. All one had to do was stop any droid they came across, ask for a chip, and then the conversation could continue as usual.

If she could get a chip implanted, then she could understand what the undine was saying. They could speak! She could tell him that this was ridiculous, and he could tell her what he wanted with her.

It was a start.

It was hope.

Byte zoomed out from her face and nodded its binocular head. “I can create a chip, yes. But I will need to listen to the language for a considerable amount of time before I can create it.”

“It’s a start,” she breathed. And it was the first time she’d felt like this could all be fixed. “I just have to figure out how to get him to talk, then. He sounds like a whale.”

“Whales have a language,” Byte replied. “I have translated that language before, and though it is quite minimal, it is very beautiful in comparison to many languages.”

“Do you think they’re comparable?”

“I would have to hear the undine speak.”

“Then I will get him to speak,” she muttered, her brows drawing down in concentration. “How? I have no idea. But you and me, Byte? We’re a team in this. And together, we’ll get back to a city. I’ll clean you up, make your metal shine the moment we get back. You hear me?”

The little robot wiggled with excitement, and it took everything in Mira to not do the same.