“Remember, we need to do what we can to support the cause that will benefit us for the centuries to come.” Zee smiled and bowed.
The sermon ended. If that’s what it was. It sounded like a sermon. Den had watched enraptured, but his full attention was now back on Ionia. The tightness she’d felt dissipated with his warm look.
“We can go now?” she asked.
“Yes.” They both rose from the seat together to corner Zee and find a way out of this labyrinth.
***
Den recorded the location and the speech in his permanent memory. Many pieces of useless information he would aggregate and send to the discard file in his processor. This was not an event he wished to disregard.
A sensation flowed in his system that he did not recognize, which made him reluctant to leave these entities. But Ionia wished to go, and her happiness was his priority, as always. Although it did not bring him the jolt of joy that he normally experienced.
They waited to speak with Zee. The humans and droids communicated with her, shaking hands and bowing, until she was finally standing alone.
“We’re ready to leave,” Ionia said. Her vitals were still skewed, and he could not get a good scan of her new eye.
It almost seemed to be shielded against his perusal. He would have to question her aunt upon their return. The image of Ionia’s extended family made Den’s emotional circuit send a spray of joint-tightening anxiety. Why the makers had gifted him with that emotion, he could not logically explain. But if he were with Ionia, all would be well. Strangely, that assertion no longer brought the comfort it once did.
Zee cut a look at him but did not send him a private message. The look was expressive enough for him to determine the meaning. She thought he should stay. But to her credit, she didn’t vocalize the opinion.
“Certainly. Follow me.”
“Wait, I need to get my coat.” Ionia had hated the shielding coat before but now she wanted it. Perhaps to distract from her ocular replacement? She hadn’t discussed it with him yet. They returned to the infirmary, gathered the jacket, and then followed Zee down a wide tunnel that lead north, away from the main compound.
An explosion sounded. It was distant and non-threatening, but he was on top of Ionia in an instant. They all hunched close to the tiled floor. Dust and earth displaced from the concussion sprinkled around them.
“They are getting closer.” Zee’s voice held a hint of concern. “Eventually, they will find the compound, but I don’t believe today is that day.”
Den wondered if she realized that human emotion colored her language or if she’d been doing it for so long, it no longer registered.
Ionia remained hunched. Heart rate accelerated, hands shaking, eyes fixed, she stared at the floor.
“Ionia.”
She had not been physically damaged. This was still some remnant of her time in Antarctica. She had repeatedly refused to discuss her ongoing mental issues, and he had not pressed, as it was her choice. His DLed information about PTSD suggested that some cases improved without treatment. Ionia’s only seemed to be getting worse.
She ignored him and kept low, shaking.
Zee crouched down and cupped Ionia’s chin, forcing her to look into her eyes. “I can help you if you let me. It’s not safe to exit right now. Come back and talk to me. Privately.”
Neither of the females acknowledged Den’s presence, although he maintained his hold on Ionia, shielding her.
“Okay,” she said to Zee.
The word sent negative electrons through Den. Why would Ionia turn to Zee for comfort when he was immediately available? He had, since his activation, always been at Ionia’s side. Anger, jealousy, and sadness dragged his mental processes into a pit of dysfunction. Too many emotions and all useless. He rose and helped her to her feet.
They made their way back to the chamber in less than ten minutes, but Den began to realize what Einstein had meant about time being relative. Every step, every second, every heartbeat elongated, and the silence stood between him and Ionia as if she were a great distance from him, instead of 1.2 meters. He desired to help her, but her body language precluded such an intervention.
Zee led the way again and motioned for Ionia to join her in a side chamber. A chamber Den could not scan. He theorized from the basic shape and dimensions that these had once been sewage tunnels that had been cleaned and expanded with the primary chamber being a former crux. This room had been an addition.
And it had been shielded.
“Ionia, I believe I should accompany you—”
“No. I want to speak with Zee alone.”
He reached to stop her progress, and she turned and looked at him. Her oversized jacket made her appear very young, and his old protection protocols perked to the surface. Yet she looked at him with her gray eyes, one now automated, but no less compelling. He had trusted Zee up until this point, and it was obvious what Ionia wanted.
He nodded and took up a guard position on the outside of the door.
“She will be perfectly fine with me. Go and experience the culture…while it remains.” Zee exited through the sliding door, taking Ionia with her. Neither turned to look back at him. Again, his emotional circuit sent a mix of electronic responses that he did not desire to experience nor examine. He considered the advice of Zee. Exploring the encampment would be an enjoyable diversion if only his processor wouldn’t loop back to the closed door that separated him from his main reason to exist.
***
The pain spider-webbed from Ionia’s eye socket through her entire face. She didn’t want Den to know this was another issue with her. Another flaw. Another problem. She needed to figure it out, to make sense of what was happening…without dragging him down with her yet again.
“You know about the nanobots. What the hell are they doing?” Ionia asked.
Spearing, hot agony shot through her face and neck.
Something was wrong deep down. Way down wrong with her eyes and her brain and her everything.
The dark room Zee had offered was a comfort for only half a second. A blast of light, images, and information smashed into her, just as it had in Aunt Sera’s office—only worse. Like a bad enclass DL, information assaulted her consciousness.
A lined image of the door popped into her mind—polyplastic alloy, recycled ingredients… More details about the grain and the facility it was manufactured in poured into her.
The whole room. Then the hall. She could see everything, into everything, through everything.
Even though she couldn’t see in the darkness, she knew where objects were before her like a vague schematic laid over her face and outlining everything in soft white lines.
Hands grabbed, tried to hold her still, firm but with a layer of softness.
Ionia.
Her name. Someone said her name, but she didn’t really hear her name, like sinking underwater. She was aware that a voice spoke but just received the vibration. Then words popped into her head like they had during the sermon.
Open your eyes. Follow the light.
Garbled sounds. More pain. Light flashed. She pushed and fought, trying to keep her lids shut. Only horrible things could come from opening her eyes.
Open your eyes.
Her eyes opened, peeling up as if it had been sealed.
White light—painful, horrible light. A whimper crawled up her throat.
“I need to turn down the light,” a female voice, not distorted. “Sorry, I’m an idiot. You’re adjusting.”
The light dimmed, and the pain lessened. A world was outlined in white. “I can’t see.” She thought she had screamed the words, but it came out as a whisper.
The voice of the person who held her was close and warm. Somewhat familiar. She wanted to do what the voice said.
The broad outlines returned, and knowledge spilled into Ionia’s brain. The woman was .25 meters from her, taller than her by .28 meters. The layout of the building flashed in her head. They were underground. Fu
rniture colored #A0522D.
“Make it stop,” Ionia said.
A soft touch in her mind, like a feather drawn over her skin. “Relax, or you’re going to pass out. Find a focal point. Let the other information retreat. More info is not needed. Slide under the jumble. Look at me. Just me. One thing.”
The words made sense, but they somehow didn’t.
“Slide under the jumble,” the voice said. Whatever the hell that meant.
Colors, shapes, distances between objects—information formed a battering ram and flew at her mind, hitting it with almost physical force.
Dizziness pulled on her.
“Ionia!” The shaking was back. “You can do this. Look at me.”
It wasn’t a request, but a demand and her nervous system jolted as if electrified. Who was speaking? Ordering her around? She didn’t like being bossed around by anyone.
She held on to that feeling. To that thought. Some of the lights and noise receded. She needed to find out who was speaking and put them in their place. But who was it? She must be able to see them. The outlines dimmed and seemed to fill in with soft natural color. A room. Small. Furniture.
In front of her, a face. Mostly human but somewhat mechanical. Ionia saw her in HD, down through her skin and back again like an x-ray. She knew the woman. “Zee. I know you. The warrior droid.”
“Ha! Never have been called that, but I’ll take it. You can see me. Still a bit unfocused—right?”
Ionia’s brain stopped doing the backstroke, and she nodded. She could see again. If this could be called seeing. More perceiving and filtering.
“Sorry, I had to invade your signal, but your human brain couldn’t take all the output from the eye. I had to help guide you back. You okay now?”
Ionia nodded again, even though she didn’t understand what invading her signal meant. It sounded kinda dirty. She felt weirdly fragile, as if she’d been sick and was just getting over it. Her face ached. Her brain ached. Her body ached. But the crashing wave of information had subsided.
Not really subsided but retreated.
It was still present, cascading rapids of code careening past. She sat on the mental beach right above it only dipping in for basic information.
She finally noticed details of the room they were in. This room was furnished for human comfort—small, square, 3.5 by 3.5 meters exactly. How did she know that? “What’s happening to me?”
“From what I can tell, your panic attack triggered a reaction in your enhanced eye. I’ve never seen this happen in an organic human, but we are dealing with a Patel Special.”
Ionia stumbled over to the couch and sat down. “I need to get back to my aunt and have her fix this.”
Zee made a point of looking away as if she didn’t want to discourage Ionia, but something was amiss.
“Yes, that’s true, but you also need to face reality. You have an implant that has connected to your nervous system and is giving you feedback. Fixing it may…” She stopped and seemed to reassess what she’d been about to say. “Fixing it may be improbable.”
“But what will I do? I can’t think straight. I don’t have a processor.” She felt the panic rising again.
“Hold on.” Zee sat down next to her. “You’re safe. I don’t know what happened to you. What war you fought in. But I know the signs. You need to face your fears and fight back. Sure, you’re different. I was different too—after.” She pointed to her fleshless face. “But no regressing. If you want to leave that behind, if you want to feel powerful again and not need your mother or Den to help you, you have to face this. If you don’t, you’ll be forever helpless, always turning to them to save you.”
Ionia had been fearless when she was a kid. Nothing much had ever scared her. Now everything put her on edge. Every threat made her want to dive under her covers. Or hide behind Den.
Zee stared at her with an almost human impatience. In fact, Zee seemed more human than a lot of humans Ionia had met recently. More empathetic anyway.
Maybe she really could help. The thought of doing something, of feeling more powerful, that was worth the risk. “Okay. Show me what to do.”
***
Den stood at attention, waiting for whatever Ionia and Zee were doing behind the door to be over. He had reviewed seventy-two potential options, from the mundane to the complex. Anything from administering a sedative to sound and brainwave therapies. Things that Den could have offered had Ionia ever accepted his assistance. Reviewing the facts and extrapolating potential theories did nothing positive for his emotional processor, so logically, he should have attempted to move his focus elsewhere.
Every droid in the compound appeared to have a purpose or at least had something to occupy their time. Negative electrons from Ionia’s departure increased with his inactivity. He was designed to be of use. His companion was elsewhere. Thus according to protocol, he should either maintain protection scanning or power down to recharge.
There was no imminent danger that he could detect, so he should default to power down. Another painful ping hit his processor, and he changed his pattern to alleviate the signal. Perhaps he could explore the complex more while Ionia was occupied? That sent a decidedly positive wave, which caused him to smile involuntarily.
The fleshless droid he had encountered earlier in the control room came into the main chamber. His long stride and direct path made Den deduce that the droid had an important mission. They had had an amiable connection previously, so Den moved to follow him and get a good visual. Maybe he could assist with the whatever the droid was working on?
The fleshless droid, Shaan, moved at approximately ten kilometers per hour. Den adjusted his stride to keep pace but stayed far enough back that his presence should not be noted.
None of the other droids he passed made any move to stop him. He was an accepted visitor, and that infused him with additional positive ions. This was the first location he had received such unforced acceptance.
Other entities fell away until only Shaan, and he remained. Then Den noted another presence. It was organic and had an extremely high heart rate. He could not determine the exact source, but that was due to the movement and stones used to support the cavern.
Den turned one last curve and got a visual.
The creature was canine, about 1.2 meters high, with tawny fur, almost the same shade as Ionia’s hair.
Its front foot was caught in a small rift in the flooring. The beast’s vitals were high, indicating an elevated level of anxiety.
“Is this canine your pet?” He didn’t bother with the social niceties that humans would need. Shaan had known of his presence since they had been in the tunnel.
He was usually good at figuring out the motivations of fellow AI, but this didn’t make sense in a compound of droids. Only humans kept pets. It was illogical.
Shaan remained facing the animal but replied. “Yes, she is our pet. And before you tell me how pets do not contribute, let me tell you they do, if you let them.”
“I understand the concept. Pets provide humans with companionship and have a calming influence on the psyche. Droids do not require such support.”
“You’re a companion droid. You’re wired to respond like a human. Everything from loyalty and love to dislike and loneliness.” Shaan made a low humming noise designed to calm the dog as Den had calmed the elephant earlier. “I could use some assistance.”
Den took a step closer, and the dog’s attention shifted to him. Dark-hued eyes stared at him. Dogs, of all non-human creatures, looked to humans for comfort and direction. Much like Den did.
“I am going to shift the rocks in the cracks. I need you to pull her out.”
“Animals can be wary of us.” It was something he’d downloaded and therefore took to be fact. But the elephant had found him acceptable. Perhaps the canine would as well.
“They almost always like the fleshies,” Shaan said. “Come on. Don’t be a baby.”
“I am no human infant. I am merely using the
appropriate amount of caution.” He was concerned that if he failed, a living organism would be injured. Not human or his responsibility to be sure, yet the process made him extremely uncomfortable. But he had wanted to be of service, and now was his opportunity.
Kneeling, he offered his hand, slowly and face up, using his Cortex downloaded info. He didn’t make continuous eye contact. The dog nudged her head under Den’s hand, and he stroked the fur gently.
Connection made.
He leaned down and wrapped his arms around the front and hindquarters of the dog, giving Shaan enough room to pry the cement away.
Den pulled the dog out and held her against him. She weighed 22.6 kg. Only a fraction of his strength was required to hold her. Shaan released the edges of the hole. The ground shifted, and bits of concrete crumbled inward. He may have had the ability to remove her without Den’s aid, but there was a 34 percent probability that she would have an injury.
From his extensive scan, she sustained only mild external injuries.
“Thank you for your assistance. You may put her down,” Shaan said.
Den placed her on the ground. She appeared unsteady for a moment before finding her balance.
She nudged his hand again. The body language asked for attention, and he complied by petting her head.
“What is she called?” Den asked.
“Kutta”
“Kutta means dog in Hindi.”
“I said we have emotions like humans, not creativity.”
The dog closed its eyes. According to the biofeedback, she was enjoying this petting. It leaned in and lolled open its mouth, tongue hanging out, and emitted a low whine of what appeared to be happiness.
“See, she likes you,” Shaan said.
A calm, peaceful feeling flowed in Den’s sensors. It was confusing. The only time he’d felt similarly was with Ionia and, for a moment, directly after his winning match. “I am having a very positive reaction to this stimulus.”
Vagabond Souls: The Ionia Chronicles: Book 2 Page 19