Deep in the shadowed mines, water droplets fall from stalactites, each one striking the stone with a crisp, echoing note.
Here, a mother who has lost her child walks with a Liv who cannot find her commandant. Together, they feel their way through the encompassing dark.
How do you know... Aisling is down here?
Melinoe lets out a soft sigh.
Every afternoon, I go to the medical station. I've calculated the route perfectly. If I walk past Aisling's house around 2:30... I can usually see her playing in the yard.
It... gives me a chance to say hello. To check on her.
But this afternoon, when I passed by the house, I didn't see Aisling around... I even went to her parents' workplace. Nothing.
The patrol soldiers at the conservation area entrance said they saw Aisling and her foster parents leave early this morning. Headed toward the mine.
I was worried, so I followed their trail... all the way here. Until I ran into you.
A sensible route, a coherent explanation. At least for now, there's nothing suspicious about her story.
Liv lowers her gaze, carefully venturing her next question.
On your way in... did you run into any trouble?
A few minor issues... But the real problem was a cave-in, I think?
Not long after I entered, there was a sound... a deep rumble. It could have been an explosion, or just the mountain settling.
I don't know these tunnels well, so I can't be sure. But the result was the same; several paths were blocked. I've been having to find my way around them.
...Could you show me where the cave-in happened?
Of course.
Melinoe motions for Liv to follow her and heads toward one of the tunnel junctions.
Aisling...? Can you hear me? Please, answer me...
She continues to call Aisling's name softly, her voice refusing to give up.
Aisling... Is she the infant you saved?
Yes... She is.
Melinoe's voice, a hushed and sorrowful melody, weaves through the mine tunnels.
When I found her, she was so small. Just a baby.
According to the records in my database, all humans should have a "name."
I thought about giving her mine, but when I learned what "Melinoe" meant... it didn't feel right for a baby.
So I searched. Through every book and file we had access to. Until I found it...
Aisling.
With her tongue pressed to the roof of her mouth, Melinoe coaxes the sound into being. In the dim mine light, her expression softens, as if the name itself is a gentle warmth against the darkness.
She is a vision. A dream. And a redemption.
Melinoe comes to a halt before a branch tunnel that has clearly collapsed not long ago.
...We're here. This is the place.
She points to the buried entrance of a tunnel branch on the other side.
I was going to search this area, but there was a small cave-in just as I reached this platform. I had to find my way around...
Do you think... Aisling could be behind there?
She furrows her brow, desperate for a definitive answer.
I'm not sure, but... Aisling should be with Commandant.
If the previous "illusion" truly began with the "tremor," as she speculated.
As they clear the tunnel entrance, a cloud of dust billows around them. Liv narrows her eyes, her fingers blindly searching the rock wall—
...Yes, this is it.
Until they catch on to a familiar, triangular pattern.
Commandant—? Are you there?
She leans into the crevice, her voice a hushed call.
But the way is barred by massive boulders; the ceiling has collapsed completely. Through the narrow gap, only the faintest of echoes can be heard.
They must have moved deeper inside.
She recalls the Rodent squad's safe zone, set up deeper in the shaft. With communications dead and the exits sealed by the tremor, Commandant's priority would be to get the child to safety. That camp is the only logical destination.
Should we try to clear all these rocks?
Melinoe is already at work, her hands clawing at the rubble.
Here, let me...
With a sharp gesture, Liv signals Melinoe back. In one fluid motion, she draws her Lotus Wheel and unleashes its power.
Ugh...
A concussive blast fills the tunnel. Debris flies, forcing Melinoe to shield her eyes and take a step back. As the dust churns, she squints to see the jagged boulders disintegrate, fracturing into a cascade of tumbling stone.
Wow...
It's nothing, really... Let's just keep going. We need to find them.
The recent tremor has left the mine shaft in ruins. Several branch tunnels, once accessible, are now completely sealed by colossal falls of rock.
The one piece of good news is that Commandant and Aisling are not trapped behind any of these new barricades.
A wave of relief washes over Liv as her fingers trace the fresh scratches scored into the rock wall—a recent sign, a thread of hope.
Aisling...? Can you hear me? Please, answer...
Melinoe continues to call out softly.
Aisling... Aisling?
Suddenly, her tone shifts. The gentle calls sharpen into a gasp of urgency. She lunges forward, stooping to snatch something from the ground...
...A shoe?
Though her visual feed is still blurred, Liv's systems parse the silhouette instantly.
I made these for Aisling... She must be just ahead.
Cradled in Melinoe's palm is a tiny shoe, sized for a child no older than eight.
I'd recognize it anywhere... This is her shoe. I made all of her shoes myself.
I know I can't be her mother... but I've always tried to do what I can for her.
After all... in a way, I'm the one who brought her into this world.
Melinoe gently closes her eyes, as if lost in a precious memory.
After I first "woke up," I was just wandering through the mines, aimless. I had almost decided to leave... when I heard it. The cry of a baby...
I found her right at the mine entrance. She was so tiny. So delicate... as beautiful as a dream.
She was wrapped in a rough little robe, her feet bare. So I gathered what I could find right here in the mine and made her a pair of shoes.
Then I carried her... all the way to Conservation Area 368...
Conservation Area 368
Conservation Area 368.
Melinoe stepped into the crude conservation area, the infant a small, warm weight against her chest. She kept her hands tucked beneath the sleeves, hiding their mechanical skeleton from view.
Ugh... Another woman with a kid.
A middle-aged man guarding the entrance spat a glob of phlegm onto the ground.
Where'd you crawl in from?
...The mine.
Tsk, fantastic. Another damn refugee.
The man's face was etched with impatience.
Listen up. Food's scarce anywhere these days. The conservation area tosses a tiny extra scrap for the kid, that's it. For everything else, you're on your own.
Ah... I understand.
Whatever. Here's your tag. Now get inside.
His gaze, a calculated blend of indifference and scrutiny, dropped to the bundle in her arms. His brow furrowed, and he tossed the identification tag at Melinoe.
If you can't keep that thing alive, let me know.
...I'll do my best.
As a mechanoid, she had no need for food, water, or the fragile company of humans. Yet for Aisling, she would root herself in Conservation Area 368.
And so, she stayed.
As time went on... the family that took her in wasn't particularly kind. A child's shoes would wear out so quickly, and eventually, they stopped replacing them altogether.
I started making regular trips through the mining area to gather materials from the forest beyond. I made shoes for the children in the conservation area...
And these... I made these especially for her.
The fraying upper, its cotton stuffing peeking through, is reinforced by an extra layer of tough leather.
She has a slight tilt in her step, always favoring this side. So with every pair I made, I'd add an extra piece of leather right here...
You love her very deeply.
...Yes. If such a feeling can be defined as "love" within human social relationships.
Then... why did you let another family raise her instead?
Melinoe presses her lips together, falling silent for a moment.
Because... I realized I didn't know how to give her the kind of love that "humans" needed.
A mechanoid can offer no human warmth, no mother's intuition to balance the delicate sustenance an infant needs to thrive.
I am not a nanny-model. I've been disconnected from the network since the Punishing Virus outbreak. All I had to guide me was my original programming and a few dictionaries stored in my database.
An infant's emotions are so pure, so simple. Once, when she was wailing from hunger, I felt so helpless... I tried to devour that "hunger" emotion from her. But then...
She lost her ability to "cry for food."
...
For an infant, this is nothing short of a catastrophe.
That night was a fury of rain, a torrential downpour that hammered the conservation area's crude metal roofing until it roared.
Beneath the din, Melinoe stumbled to a resident's door and beat her fists against the metal.
Please... I'm so sorry to bother you this late...
...Just spit it out.
The man who answered frowned, his eyes darting past her.
It's Aisling... something's wrong. She won't stop crying, she's burning up... I don't know what to do...!
...Tsk.
Without another word, he grabbed a raincoat and followed her back into the deluge.
I knew it... You found that child, didn't you? You clearly don't have a clue how to take care of a baby. You look like some runaway from a fancy house...
...I'm sorry... I'm so sorry...
...
Inside Melinoe's quarters, the man dried his hands on his shirt before gently pressing his palm to Aisling's brow.
...It's a fever. I've only got adult pills, but we'll have to make it work.
From his pocket, he produced a single pill. He broke it, selected a mere fragment, and crushed it to powder. Dissolving it in a cap of water, he carefully tipped the solution into the infant's mouth.
The medicine worked quickly, and Aisling's frantic cries soon softened into quiet, even breaths of sleep.
Did I... did I almost kill her...?
...
The middle-aged man let out a heavy sigh.
Aisling... oh, Aisling... what am I going to do...
Melinoe looked helplessly at the infant in the makeshift cradle.
...
Melinoe's quiet sobs filled the space between them. Finally, after a long and palpable hesitation, the middle-aged man spoke, his voice low and measured.
There's a couple... living behind the conservation area.
Three days ago, their kid... didn't make it in the last Hetero-Creature attack. Just eight years old. They shut themselves in for a whole day after.
If you're willing... we could let them raise her. At least they know what they're doing...
In the distance, thunder roared deafeningly.
If you decide... you know where to find me.
After all... a life is a life.
After that, I let that couple in the conservation area take her in.
I never told them I'd named her "Aisling". The psychological data in my database suggested that allowing them to name her would foster a stronger parental bond.
But the outcome... was clearly not what I had expected.
It seems human psychology cannot be so easily defined by textbooks alone.
Shoving the obstructing stones aside, Melinoe shakes her head.
When I handed Aisling over, I sensed their emotional state...
It wasn't pure "joy" they were feeling. There was something else layered within it... something strange.
I initially attributed the anomaly to the grief of losing their own child. But now, I realize...
Perhaps they were simply excited about the extra ration allowance.
Liv furrows her brow, her mind silently cataloging the inconsistencies in Melinoe's story.
If the memory fragments in her M.I.N.D. are still reliable...
There are at least two glaring discrepancies between this Melinoe's account and the one given by the "Melinoe" from the conservation area.
First, the discovery of Aisling. The Melinoe in the conservation area claimed she found the infant years ago while returning to the mine for supplies. Now, it has shifted to "while escaping from the mine."
Second, the death of the adoptive family's own child. The original story was a tragic accident—a fall into a mine shaft. Now, it has become a death by Hetero-Creature attack.
The cause of death could, perhaps, be chalked up to the fog of memory. But Aisling's age...
Chaos floods her M.I.N.D. A familiar, trembling undercurrent of pain surges up, forcing her to abandon that trail of thought entirely.
Swallowing her doubts, Liv finally asks, her voice soft.
If you find Aisling, will you try to find another family for her?
Within the illusion she shattered, Melinoe had insisted that she wanted Liv and Commandant to take care of Aisling...
Hah... No. Of course not.
Melinoe lets out a soft, hollow chuckle.
I don't trust humans anymore. I never will again. Aisling stays with me.
Melinoe's answer is completely different from what she said in the previous illusion.
If humans won't care for her properly, then I will.
I'll give her everything—anything she could ever want—as long as she desires it and I can get it for her.
I won't... I won't let Aisling be hurt ever again.
Melinoe speaks with unwavering determination.
Then...
In the oppressive darkness of the mine, Liv's calm eyes find Melinoe standing across from her.
How old is Aisling... this year?
As if receiving a signal, the spider places its legs upon the web it has woven.
In response, Hetero-Creatures begin to quietly crawl from the mine's depths.
...Why do you ask? She's only seven now. Not quite eight yet...
Melinoe looks at Liv, her expression one of confusion.
But you just said... you found Aisling right after you "woke up."
The web quivers, transmitting an unknowable signal.
That must have been more than eight years ago... right?
Ah... it must be my memory chip... There have been some errors lately...
...Commandant?!
For now, Liv sets her doubts about Melinoe aside. Lifting her terminal, she quickly answers the incoming call.
Commandant! Where are you right now?!
Hetero-Creatures?
The terminal's projection shows the commandant and the child running together as if fleeing.
Can you share your location with me...?
The commandant in the projection halts, a sudden pause in the frantic run. The figure appears injured, face stained with blood.
Commandant... are you... alright?
The commandant's transmission is a ghost in the device, a voice perpetually fading in and out, drowned by a sea of static that steals all meaning.
...Commandant... don't worry...
I will find you...
I'm on my way. We'll meet soon—
The transmission cuts off without warning.
What happened? Is Aisling... Is she with your commandant?
They're together. But Commandant seems injured...
Liv's brow furrows in concentration as she repeatedly calibrates her terminal, hunting for a lock on the commandant's signal.
On the rough map, the green dot representing the commandant's terminal flashes—just for an instant—then vanishes.
That brief flicker is all the confirmation Liv needs. She's on the right track.
They're trying to find a way out... I must find Commandant as fast as possible.
Liv stows her terminal and strides forward, Melinoe following anxiously in her wake.
The question of Aisling's actual age no longer comes up.
