Asunder Chapter 25

Chapter 5.5 (25)

The Isobian

Gravity Shadow

“My dearest Enzo,

Your letters have been taking longer to reach me. With the recent explosion in the Midwest Sector, there is a lockdown of sorts where you are. I hope this is the case, and you are not growing bored with our communication. Anyway, Enver is more peculiar than I previously thought. He seems to take a great interest in one of the children. I find them whispering to each other often. He confides in me frequently as well, telling me many of his thoughts and beliefs. He thinks, as one would say, outside the box. I think he has something wrong with his programming. One day, when we meet again, I will have to discuss some of his ideas. As for now, I have to go, one of the children is crying.

Sincerely and yours truly,

Forteny”

- Present Day -

- The Year 2296 -

The Surgimech seemed taller than Enzo remembered. Its long curved spine hunched forward over him—its oblong head scanning and analyzing Enzo’s circuitry through its multiple optical lenses garnishing its mechanical face. A torso full of tools and instruments hung, suspended from the mid-spine, like a chrysalis hanging from the lengthy neck, dangling above its pelvis. Its large spider-like legs clicked and ratcheted as it adjusted itself during the examination.

The surgimech was not an actual free-thinking Isobian. Caerulum had not powered it as it had for Enzo. Instead, a quantum gravity niobium generator fueled its processors. This high-powered motor required continual recharging, unlike Enzo’s Caerulum engine, which was like an eternal furnace—never needing a renewal of energy.

“Please begin shutting down your security protocol, as well as your nocisensors for sections T35, C14, and 15, and P43 through 94.” The surgimech requested.

Enzo gripped the book in his hand.

“Initiated.” He replied.

Enzo could feel the mechanisms within his spine powering down, leaving him without sensation throughout his cervical spine and torso.

“Now, if you would please turn around, I will get started.”

Enzo slyly turned while simultaneously unlocking his thoraxal storage and quickly slipped the woman’s journal inside. While shutting down his security and sensor protocols for the surgeon, he also thought it prudent to shut down the sensors within his storage compartment so as not to tip off the surgimech of its contents. With this new state, the surgical droid began its work. Sounds of drilling, electrical arcing, and buzzing rang through the dormitory.

“How is it looking?” Enzo asked.

“Much worse than previously analyzed. I need to get another part. Please wait. It will only take ten minutes to retrieve it from the medical bay. You completely fried your memory analyzer.”

The machine's tools stopped their commotion.

“I have your sensors on standby until I get back.”

The machine quickly clambered away on its six legs, clanking the floor loudly and rhythmically as it departed.

“No wonder I can’t see!” HERAa spoke up. “You are severely damaged! We are lucky to be alive!”

“Hmm…” was all Enzo could respond. He stood, lost in thought, staring blankly at the wall. The sounds of other machines commuting throughout the bowels of the RAM resounded in distant echoes. His mind raced as he worked to dispel his thoughts of doubt that stemmed from his reading of the woman’s journal.

What was so important about this woman?

All of his analyses and calculations revealed nothing to imply the woman had been in communication or even aware of the rebellion unfolding around the nation. The only evidence giving any cadence to a theory of abnormality was her repeated discussions of speaking with animals. But he was unsure whether this was enough to deem her of any importance.

Suddenly, a barrage of sirens wailed throughout the mobile facility. A voice rang out, “All Theta Squadron Enforcers report to the bridge immediately. I repeat all Theta Squadron Enforcers report to the bridge immediately.”

Enzo’s mind snapped back into reality. I’m Theta Squadron, he realized. He instantaneously and without thought reregistered his sensors and security protocol and engaged his torso into the alcove to have his wings reattached.

“What are you doing? We are injured! You heard the surgeon. He said it was much worse. If you injure yourself any further, it could be the end of us.” HERAa reprimanded him.

A moment of apprehension swept over him as he considered his injuries, causing him to pause and assess the risk. The repeat of the call to the Enforcers immediately stifled the apprehension, and he resolved to continue. Duty called.

“Injora, initiate flight sequence. And make it fast.”

“Yes, master.” The voice replied from deep within the nook.

“This is not a good idea…” HERAa repeated her trepidation.

The mechanical arms quickly unfolded from the alcove, bringing the large metal wings with them, followed by drilling and whirring. After only but a brief moment, Injora’s voice echoed.

“Initiation complete.”

“Thank you, Injora,” Enzo hastily replied.

As he went to step out of the Alcove, Injora’s voice called out in worry.

“Sir, while attaching the wings, I noticed your spinal circuitry is not fully protected. Are you sure you are capable of a mission at this time?”

“It’s fine,” Enzo replied dismissively, running out the door.

“It is not fine!” HERAa called out, lost in the rush of his pace.

§

As Enzo reached the bridge entrance, a familiar voice abruptly stopped him in his tracks.

“Enzo!”

Turning around, he met the gaze of the metallic-brimmed red eyes of his Commander. Vic, who had not appeared to be rushing as the rest of the Enforcers, motioned for him. Slowing to a halt, Enzo faced his commander.

“Sir?”

“There was an explosion at the 19.a07 facility.”

“The same facility we attempted to extract the woman from…” Enzo remembered.

“Yes, and the same one the Rebel attack was supposed to occur at, which our Agents were to prevent, but it looks like some rebels were able to ignite a fraction of their explosives even so.”

“What is the damage report?” Enzo pressed, curious the humans were capable of such destruction.

“Limited to the disposal sector, it appears the explosion only harmed a few of the Isobians there.” No emotion came with the response.

“Any human casualties?” Enzo pressed further.

Vic paused at the question and then replied, “None.” He continued, “The others have already deployed.”

There appeared a hint of doubt hidden within his dialogue.

Enzo responded coldly—as his superior would expect with such news, “Affirmative.”

With this, Enzo turned to continue on with the rest of the squadron, but Vic suddenly stopped him with his arm.

Enzo looked down, then back up to Vic. “Shouldn’t I get going?”

“The Alpha wants someone to go back to the wreckage site of the airship and investigate the area further,” Vic spoke with solicitude. “He seems to think it is somehow directly tied to the woman…”

“And the Alpha wants me…” Enzo spoke questioningly.

Vic cut him off, “I recommended you.”

Enzo stood motionless. He wasn’t sure if this was a vote of confidence or the lack thereof.

“Why would the Alpha think there was a connection to the woman? How would she have obtained a gravity converter so quickly and one large enough to cause such a shadow?” Enzo responded.

Vic looked at him curiously.

“Why would the Alpha NOT think this?” Vic questioned.

Now, Enzo was the one to shift his weight, which revealed an uncertainty in his demeanor.

“Do you know something I do not, Enzo?”

Enzo hesitated, rethinking his following sentence. His mind held onto the scribbled pages of the woman’s journal, but he wavered at making this known to Vic for the time being.

“What I mean is, do you think this woman somehow got a hold of a converter of some kind?”

“Or she is the converter…” Vic muttered.

Vic’s response struck Enzo.

What did Vic mean by this? 

A human converter?

How could a human produce a gravity shadow to the effect of its detection on a scanner without a converter? The comment hadn’t made any sense, and now it seemed like Vic was the one who knew something Enzo had not.

“Vic, who is she, and why does the Alpha want to find her?”

This question appeared to spark something deep within Vic, “Enzo, you need to get something straight. You are a refurbished Enforcer. Put under my command to babysit. Now, I’ve been watching you for quite some time, and you have your quirks, but you do what I tell you, and I appreciate that. The Alpha still doesn’t know what to think of you, so I’ve been pushing for your continued existence…”

“Umm, thank you,” the flow of information was almost overwhelming.

“I told him you would be the one to help find this woman since you know things about humans that most enforcers haven’t taken the time to learn. But this means you don’t ask questions. You just do what I tell you. Do you understand?”

“I told you, you should listen to him more often,” HERAa filled Enzo’s mind.

“Yes, sir,” Enzo responded. He wasn’t aware the Alpha commissioned Vic to essentially babysit him. He felt a sense of anger welling within him. He had dedicated his life to serving the Alpha, yet his master continually questioned his motives, and now it seemed his commander did so as well.

The anger spilled forth from Enzo’s microphonics, “Just one more question?”

Vic’s eyes dimmed, indicating his frustration, “What is it?”

“Is this about the woman or her child?”

“Just find her, Enzo,” Vic shook his head in disappointment.

“He just told you no more questions!” HERAa erupted.

“I put in new coordinates for the gravity shadow location. Uplink them before you leave.” Vic growled and stomped away.

§

Enzo deployed from the landing bay—the coordinates for the gravity shadow programmed into his Wayfinder. There was an eeriness to his recent interactions with Vic. Something felt off. He could sense the apprehension of the Alpha, but even worse now was Vic had audibly expressed it. What was happening to him? He needed to prove himself worthy again to the Alpha, and finding the woman was the only way to do this.

As Enzo allowed the thoughts to dissipate, the sound of his thrusters reverberated throughout his core. The dampeners within his auditory receptors kicked in to prevent excessive noise disturbance. His stabilizers hissed as they made minor adjustments. Whatever the case was with his standing with the Alpha, he could set it aside momentarily. He was in his element—flying. His intake gulped the air and cooled his system. His capacity sensors all ran at a steady rate, indicating all systems were working correctly except one.

The wiring harness along his cervical spinal column remained disrupted. He ran an analysis of the section. As long as it didn’t sustain any more damage, he would be fine.

“You are so insufferable, NZO-015. I can’t believe you continued to ask questions when Vic so vehemently demanded you did not. It seems the Alpha is also weary of you, just as I am. Maybe I should not have been so eager to take up the task of being your HERAa. You will be the end of me. This is for sure.”

Enzo took his focus away from her banter and remained quiet. The morning sun rose from the east, awakening the world below. Shadows stretched long across the earth, and the dark, deep blue quickly changed to a warm yellow. He looked into the distance. Off to the west, he could see the billowing black smoke cloud forming above the facility. He wished he were there with the rest of the team. Off to the south, a smaller wisp of black smoke ascended into the air—the wreckage site of the airship. He rechecked his Wayfinder out of habit.

His Wayfinder’s trajectory seemed to place him just north of the smoke.

Were the coordinates off? Had the calibration faltered? Wasn’t he supposed to be going to the wreckage site?

He changed his trajectory toward the smaller smoke trail. Undoubtedly, the Wayfinder was malfunctioning.

As he approached the wreckage site, the Wayfinder beeped again. Alarms triggered, warning him he was heading off course from the gravity shadow detection site. Still confused, he rechecked the coordinates. Clearly, it wanted him to head north of the wreckage site.

Against his better judgment, he relented and decided to follow the course set by the Wayfinder. Looking back one last time to the smoke trail, he shifted to the original coordinates.

“How could a gravity shadow be made detectable by only a single woman?” He said aloud, hoping HERAa could help clear some of his thought processes.

Excited for the moment to interact, HERAa began her calculations, “For any gravity shadow to become detectable, our detectors need a large enough event to take place in order to create an emotional resonance in the quantum realm to allow for a gravity shadow.”

“Is there a possibility the airship crash could have caused such a resonance?” Enzo asked sincerely.

“Well, for the waves to be detectable, there would likely need to be the traumatic death of more than just one person. And this death would need to be experienced emotionally by more than one person as well.”

“But Berk and Jin, who had scanned the wreckage, only found the remains of one body.” Enzo agreed but played the devil’s advocate, hoping to provoke a firmer analysis from HERAa.

“Correct.”

“Didn’t we used to have a way to detect smaller shifts in the quantum resonance field?” Enzo remembered something from when he first became an Enforcer.

“The Fabricators scrubbed this data from my memory bank, so I do not recall this,” HERAa responded.

“I’m pretty sure we used to be able to detect smaller events easily, but that was nearly two centuries ago.” His memory was difficult to access this far back with his current injuries, “But somehow we abruptly lost this capability.”

How had they lost something they could easily just reproduce? Unless they couldn’t reproduce it? Unless it was technology only the humans knew how to create… or it was a living being. What did Vic mean when he said the woman was the converter? Could she somehow have naturally created this kind of gravity shadow? So many new questions arose within Enzo—unnerving questions.

“Well, we don’t have that capability, NZO-015, and so the only event large enough to set off our current detector capabilities is likely a converter of sorts.”

“But have you heard of any devices of that magnitude used by humans in the past two centuries? It seems a little odd.” Enzo essentially knew what she knew but still attempted to coax an abstract thought from HERAa.

“Well, take the rebel group of humans as an example. They did just ignite an explosion at a mining facility. My analysis shows that it is statistically time for humans to make a move such as this. Thus, it is statistically time humans developed such advanced technology as a quantum gravity converter.”

“But how did the woman get such a powerful converter? I didn’t see her hauling a massive machine in the tunnel when she was escaping… unless…” He found it the right time to bring up the lingering question in his mind. He hoped that by doing so, HERAa would be able to shed some light on what Vic had mentioned before.

“Unless what?” HERAa asked curiously.

“What did Vic say? Something about the woman being the converter…” he trailed off.

“Vic was likely glitching. It is impossible for one human to not only create a rift in the quantum resonance field by using their single mind but also to do it and survive. The emotional output is impossible for a single person.” HERAa reasoned.

“Hmmm…” was all Enzo could respond. His thoughts raced.

A human converter? 

Was the alpha relying on these humans for something more than just their ability to see the Caerulum?

While Enzo’s processors frantically sought to understand, the sudden and expectant subduing of the algorithms kicked in and refocused him on the job at hand. Do not question the Alpha’s motives. Do as you are told. Find the woman.

Enzo turned his attention to his Wayfinder. The destination materialized within his visual map of the area. It was nearly two miles away from the wreckage sight. Coincidence? Enzo thought suspiciously. They had to be connected somehow. But two miles was a considerable enough distance to indicate the wreckage and the gravity shadow were two separate events, so maybe HERAa was right. Perhaps the wreckage wasn’t the source of the shadow after all?

Having finally reached the site localized by the Wayfinder, he descended onto a grassy clearing. Adjusting his thrusters, he let down more steadily than usual. Worried the sudden impact of his typical landing style could further disrupt his injury. Therefore, he lowered down gingerly. As he landed, a realization suddenly struck him.

His injuries were something the Alpha and Vic were fully aware of. If Enzo’s calculations indicated he was not physically able to take on even the impact of an abrupt landing, then hopefully, the Alpha’s and Vic’s assessment was that he could not withstand dealing with any physical conflict. With this newfound understanding, Enzo reasoned that Vic and the Alpha were likely just looking out for his well-being when giving him this mission. They would have compromised him if they had sent him on another dangerous mission. This sudden epiphany eased his mind some.

Still, these thoughts were all new to him. Why was he thinking in such indirect and confusing ways? He never questioned things before, and now he found himself questioning everything. He had always understood his purpose, but now it all seemed muddled yet more apparent at the same time. Shaking the line of reasoning from his mind, he refocused on his duty.

Find the woman.

The sun was now angled higher in the sky, suggesting mid-morning. He needed to act quickly and map out the area if he was to find the woman before nightfall. The Wayfinder was only capable of implying a general vicinity of the event. Therefore, he had to find the exact location manually—on foot. Enzo looked around, assessing his surroundings. The clearing he stood within ascended the mountainside and disappeared into a thicket of trees. The very same trees broke off and made their way down a ravine, appearing to stretch northward.

Accessing his visuomaps, Enzo surveilled the area digitally. Starting his investigation, he recorded a wide perimeter.

“Can you quantify and re-integrate this mapping for me?” Enzo asked HERAa.

“Certainly,” she responded in a chipper tone, happy to be involved in the mission.

Enzo then set about looking for evidence of human interaction with the local environment. Though the area seemed small at first sight, it actually required extensive inspection, which took a considerable amount of time. After a few hours of detailed examination of the area, Enzo finally stumbled across some clues.

An outcropping of rock appeared hidden within the tree line. Further inquiry into the camouflaged rocky site revealed multiple divots in the surrounding dirt, leading to and from the location.

Human footprints.

His processors pinged, and a sense of excitement arose within him. He had found her.

“All of this data seems very promising,” HERAa exclaimed.

A broken sagebrush plant and effervescent steam traces along the rocks implied recent cooking within the rocky alcove.

She had been there. 

His visual receptors followed the tracks and bent grass as they approached the ravine.

“The patterns show she likely slept here. Was she waiting for the airship? Was it coming to pick her up?” HERAa calculated.

“Possibly… but based on the airship’s altitude and trajectory upon being struck by the RAM’s firepower, he was well above her location, as though he was heading to the facility, and she only spotted him. So there is a likelihood they were not directly associated with each other.”

“Good assumption, NZO-015.” HERAa actually congratulated him in a rare moment of congeniality.

Enzo crouched within the rocky alcove, examining the campsite for any further evidence. Turning his head, Enzo peered out through the trees, trying to replay what events likely took place. While scanning, he suddenly caught a glimpse of a large blue Falcon perched on a branch not too far from the site, staring back at him. They focused on each other for an extended period. The bird cocked its head, looking up into the sky, and then abruptly jumped into flight. This reaction surprised Enzo, and he quickly stood up to follow the bird’s flight path.

As he quickly stood from his crouched position under the rocky outcropping, forgetting what was present above his head, he accidentally slammed his head and neck into the solid rock ceiling of the alcove. This sudden injury sent a jolt of information through his pain receptors. Sparks shot in all directions. His already damaged spinal column took the brunt of the impact.

Just as his vision caught the final glimpse of the majestic falcon in flight, his visual receptors suddenly shut down, causing his vision to transition to complete blackness. He quickly grabbed onto the rock wall for support as he stabilized himself. A feeling of panic suddenly erupted within him. He attempted to recalibrate his visual receptors to infrared, but his cortex processor flashed a “no signal” error. The lack of vision rapidly heightened his panic to an overwhelming level.

“HERAa, can you access my main circuit board? My vision is completely gone.”

The silence following was disconcerting, and he tried again. “HERAa! Are you there?” Still no answer.

Enzo quickly tried to activate his communications, but there was no response. No matter how he tried, he could not send a distress signal or contact the Watcher. A feeling of dread began to consume him. Was this it? Was this how he finally ended? By sheer stupidity on his part? By hitting his head on a rock? If he had a heart, it would have been racing. If he had lungs, he would have been hyperventilating. Emotions whelmed within him. Thoughts of death, regret, and terror settled into his way of thinking. He had to figure something out. He had to get his vision back, or at least some sort of sense. Suddenly attempting to take control of himself and the situation, he spoke aloud to himself.

“Snap out of it, Enzo. Figure it out!”

Then, as though out of nowhere, the answer came to him. You have more than one sense. Vision is not king. Remember the night. Remember the dark. With this, he suddenly turned up his auditory and olfactory sensors, as well as heightened the threshold of emittance on his haptic sensors to better feel his surroundings. With his newly elevated senses, he could smell, touch, and hear everything around him at a heightened level. The hyperactive senses gave him an increased awareness of his situation, and his anxiety eased some.

Anxiety? Panic?

Usually, the algorithms suppressed these types of feelings as the protocol would kick in and subdue his mind into a focused and controlled state. Except this time, there was no sensation of relaxation or initiation of the control algorithms.

Where were the algorithms? Where was his vision? Where was HERAa?

Needing to perform a self-diagnostic exam, Enzo first attempted to access his diagnostics files, but the injury had somehow damaged these as well. Panicking even further, he searched his data logs for some way to assess his injuries. In his sheer panic and frantic search within his mainframe, something suddenly became apparent. Somehow, his injury had scrambled the coding to his restricted programs. Which, in effect, left something open that was usually highly restricted—the doors to his digital mind. Enzo hesitated. This area of his mind was off-limits to everyone but the Alpha. Not even Enzo was allowed to enter his digital mind, which was essentially a virtual world within his cognition.

Enzo had to make a decision. Would he risk breaking the Alpha’s rules in order to fix himself and return to duty, or would he sit around and wait for the others to find him? The others being Berk and Jin… who would only find him in a weakened and inferior state, therefore furthering their doubt and disdain for Enzo—the machine who couldn’t hack being an Enforcer.

The thought of being found in such a state decided for him—Enzo would access his digital mind.

Enzo paused all outside movements and, after only a moment of hesitancy, triggered the sequence, allowing him to enter his digital state of mind.

All of his senses suddenly dissipated, and he felt his mind sucking him into a void of nothingness. This eerie sensation was only temporary, and he soon found himself re-materializing in an entirely new world.

Digital Enzo suddenly stood on a floating disk overlooking a vast virtual library. Blackness abounded all around him, smattered with twinkling lights in the distance as though a universe of stars engulfed him. The vastness of the space was overwhelming, and Enzo shuddered at the magnitude of his own mind.

The digital library below him looked like a complex highway of information, transferring at light speed, quantum ghosting in and out of existence like shimmering lights in a sea of blackness. Enzo somehow innately knew the library consisted of all the various programs governing his mind and body. The feeling was surreal. He had only been here once before—at his birth. Once born, the Alpha forcefully restricted all access to this version of himself.

Perceiving he could move freely within this space, he cognitively controlled the movement of the disk he stood upon. Willing it about, he could now see various algorithms working—programs gating information and memories organizing themselves into multiple files.

Though mesmerized by the space he resided in, he still sensed the feelings of panic and anxiety from before. Understanding this new ability to access his mind, he immediately set about diagnosing what had been affected by his injury. The disk he stood on moved rapidly but smoothly within the space. He floated above the dark digital library like a jet flying over a human city at night. Each section of his mind stood like a city block, with traffic of information flowing at different rates, depending on what his mind required at that moment.

Looking into the distance, he innately was aware of each section’s purpose. With this, he drew his attention to the section housing his HERAa. She appeared as a disembodied spirit. A young human-shaped woman frantically typed and tapped the information within the translucent walls around her. He could view her from afar, but the flow of information to and from her section was inaccessible. Error signals flashed, and he could see her exhaustively trying to diagnose the issues around her. He would help her later. For now, he needed to try and at least get his vision back.

He willed the disk toward the section governing his visual receptor programming. Looking about his surroundings as he sped to fix his vision, he suddenly took notice of a different section in the distance. This other area erupted with an eerie glowing light and pulsated angrily. He suddenly realized which section this was—the area of his mind restricted only to the Alpha. Programming created to submit him to the will of the Alpha—the Thought Theory Protocol section—the algorithms that restricted his free-thinking.

Enzo stopped the disk and, after a moment’s hesitation, changed his course from his vision sector to this new area to investigate. He slowly approached this branch of his mind and noted searing red lights flashing within its walls. The transparent cube containing the algorithms appeared shattered. Dark light escaped the fractured coding. Error messages floated within the space, flashing repeatedly.

An understanding settled over Enzo. Panic, anxiety, terror… These were feelings the restrictive algorithms of his Thought Theory Protocol regulated—prevented. But now they were abounding within him. Which only meant one thing. The Protocol was damaged… he was completely free of their constraints.

The implications of such freedom overwhelmed him. This was what he wanted, right—to think freely? But with this freedom apparently came the awful feeling of anxiety. His mind began to race at the sense of the anxiety whelming within. All of a sudden, the world around him exploded with activity. Lights sped about—flickering in and out of existence. His quantum computing was firing out of control, indicating his anxiety was overloading his circuitry.

He had to take some sort of control of his feelings.

“Fix yourself, Enzo.” He found himself saying to himself.

With this, he rocketed toward his vision center. “Maybe if I fix my vision, I can at least control this anxiety,” he whispered to himself.

As he rushed by multiple other programming sectors, he noted fractures within the section titled “thrusters.” The injury damaged more than he realized, for even the communication between his cortex and the thrusters flashed “offline.”

“No need to panic, Enzo.” He tried to reassure himself.

“You will figure this out.”

As he approached the vision sector of his mind, he could see the same fractures in programming present in the other areas.

“All from a simple head bonk,” he whispered.

Enzo lifted his hands before him and summoned a digital display of glowing red text. Tapping into his analyzer, which luckily was not damaged, he began to run a “predicted scenario” analysis. After a moment of processing, an incredible 347,568 options displayed themselves in front of him, like a floating holographic screen. They were in order of likelihood of success. Acting quickly, he tapped the first one.

After reading through the directions, it seemed like a plausible option to aid in giving him some sort of sense of vision, so he initiated its recommended protocol.

The first act was to lower his senses to a sub-heightened level rather. Next, the protocol recommended Enzo replay the recording of his arrival to the valley. This way, the algorithms could process the images of the landscape and then generate a digital world around him. Understanding the implications, Enzo reached up and placed his hand on the large translucent cube surrounding the Vision sector. With only the thought of such, he completely shut down his visual receptor sector and refocused all the input to this section, instead, into the newly mapped digital world.

The analyzer pinged its sound of completion, indicating he had met all the requirements for activation of the new protocol. A green light flashed before him. “Reboot.”

With a twinge of hope and slight uncertainty, he reached forward and tapped the green glowing text. With this, his world suddenly went black, and after a moment of synchronized digital chirps and whirring up of the software update, he teleported back to his real-world body.

A virtual copy of the valley exploded around him. Though it was a copy of the natural world and, therefore, not as detailed, it still gave him a sudden sense of relief—and decreased his anxiety dramatically.

He looked around and reached toward the rock wall, which he felt right as he visualized his digital hand touching it. He turned to face the trees and took his first step, but with this, he tripped over a root sticking up from the ground. Apparently, his recordings weren’t able to provide complete details of his surroundings. Realizing he needed a little more help, he ignited his echolocationers, which immediately picked up on the minor details around him, uploading them into the virtual imagery. With this, the picture suddenly cleared up, providing further detail.

He stepped out from the nook and regained his footing. The disruption of sight gave him pause, and he re-assessed his surroundings. Looking at the digital landscape before him, he needed to follow where the footsteps had led to. He tried to reprocess the memory of the tracks from moments ago, but he had relayed the information to HERAa for processing.

“I need HERAa back working again.” He spoke to himself.

Wow, I never thought I would say such a thing, he thought.

Stopping momentarily, he quickly re-analyzed his HERAa programming. She was hardwired into his mainframe, so he could not rewire her to bring her back. Looking around his entire body, he assessed the functionality of all of his systems. An idea suddenly came to mind when he reached down to access contingency files within his gauntlet Wayfinder. The audiometer from the gauntlet was still in working order, and though it could not send or receive communications, the microphonics still seemed to be working.

Hopeful the idea would work, he lifted his gauntlet and ejected the enumerator. While lifting it to his chest port, he inserted the enumerator and began the uplink process of her contingency software. After a moment of baited anticipation, the process was complete. He quickly retracted the enumerator, and after a few tweaks to the programming, a familiar voice finally broke the silence as it began bellowing from his gauntlet.

“What happened, NZO-015? I was completely isolated from you. I could not access or communicate with any of your files. Are you okay?” She spoke rapidly.

“I’m fine, HERAa,” he lied, “Just a small hiccup is all. I injured my circuitry even more.”

“More than what you already have!?” She retorted. “How!?”

“It was an accident. I hit my head and neck on the rocks in the…”

“You did what? Carelessness! I say carelessness! I can’t believe you, NZO-015. You received this chance to redeem us and somehow managed to mess it all up with carelessness.”

“Glad you're back,” he sighed.

“Well, me too! Because at this rate, you are headed straight to the scrapyard.”

“I need you to access those files I sent you. The human tracks.”

“I can certainly do that, but at this point, I don’t see how you are capable of anything. My readings say your visuometers are out, and you are using virtual reality to assess your surroundings?”

“Correct.”

“And how do you suppose VR will help you find the woman?”

“It’s all I have currently.”

“Well, you should contact central command and have them retrieve you. You are clearly not in functioning order to perform any sort of tasking.”

“My communicators are down.”

“Well, blessed be the Alpha, what have you gotten us into?”

“Just access the data files for me so we can move along.”

“Oh, fine…” The gauntlet emitted the digital sounds of what must have been HERAa accessing the files.

After a brief moment, the warbles stopped, and HERAa’s voice returned. “If you will wirelessly uplink this map I have created, it may guide us along the woman’s trajectory.”

Enzo lifted the gauntlet to the side of his head and felt the data shift wirelessly into his VR projection. Suddenly, a plotted course of red footsteps appeared in his VR landscape along the ground—extending down through the trees and along the ravine, heading northward.

“Thank you, HERAa. I received the data and have integrated it into my mapping system.”

“Well, thank the maker,” she spoke with annoyance. “It appears your thrusters are offline as well. So we will have to traverse this by foot, I take it?”

“Exactly,” Enzo responded matter-of-factly.

With this, HERAa began into one of her long-winded reprimands. Realizing he had the ability to finally silence his HERAa at leisure, he reached over with the opposite hand and manually turned down the volume of the microphonics in the gauntlet. A sense of relief set over him—he now had control of when he needed HERAa and when he could physically tune her out.

Stepping out of the rocky overhang, he exited the shade and entered the sun’s full measure. With the increased mechano- and thermo-sensation, he could feel the sun's warmth on his metal body. He looked up and felt its rays penetrating his sensors. The sensation immediately calmed his mind. It was a sense he had never noticed before. He took it in. It somehow not only warmed his metal frame but warmed his…

Mind?

Heart? 

He had no heart to warm, so why did it feel so? He imagined if he had a heart, this was the feeling he would have. His increased audio perception allowed him to hear the scurrying of the birds and their small chirps to each other. It was like music to his ears. This further calmed him. The feelings, if it was what they indeed were, were exhilarating. He was able to relax without the interjection of the control algorithms. Had they been completely damaged? Was he free of them now? Was he able to think his thoughts without the algorithms stifling them?

He quickly scanned his Thought Theory Protocol.

It read: 100%.

Even as a Nurturer, he wasn’t allowed this much mental freedom.

He stopped in his tracks. A sudden flood of memories rushed into his mind, ones that previously remained suppressed by the algorithms—crying babies. The songs he had created and sang to the newborn humans to soothe them rang forth, and the memory of the warmth of their soft skin on his arm regulators caused a smile to cross his mind. He wished he had a face to feel the smile stretch his lips. Even with his limited vision, he could feel a sensation of happiness. At least, it was what he imagined happiness was.

Is this what it felt like to be human?

Suddenly, memories of years of being an Enforcer invaded his psyche. The horror on the humans’ faces as he stripped them of their family members. The death and the destruction. The carnage. The mayhem. All because the Isobians believed the humans were the ones who destroyed the world.

He stood with a feeling of sickness. If he had a stomach, he imagined this feeling would settle there. His new freedom of thought scared him some. He could think whatever came to his mind. No algorithms kicked in to prevent them, to squash them into submission and replace them with thoughts of the Alpha’s prepared templated thought processes—to instill a sense of the Alpha’s goodness.

The Alpha’s goodness?

The realization struck him.

What goodness came from the submission of thought?

What goodness came from enslaving an entire race of beings—all to ensure a constant flow of an energy source?

The Isobians were no better than the humans before them. The humans had wars and destruction. But so did they. The Isobians were just as guilty. He now had so many questions.

Who was this woman, and why did the Alpha so desperately need to find her?

Why had the alpha commissioned Enzo to find her?

What were the Alpha’s motives?

It seemed as though the Alpha was hiding not just this one thing but many things—things that disturbed Enzo. These thoughts and hesitancies began to take shape and were becoming realizations he could not shake. The acts the Alpha commissioned him to perform, all for the sake of a false greater purpose, caused him to shudder. He was a puppet. He was not allowed to think for himself.

Then, the realization struck with a thunderous blow.

The Alpha feared Isobians having free thought.

The Alpha must have considered it dangerous. Otherwise, he would allow for it. But the Alpha didn’t. Anger rose within Enzo. If his cheeks could flush, he assumed they would be on fire now. His newfound realization settled within his core. Would he allow the Alpha to take his freedom from him again? Would he allow the Alpha to reprogram the algorithms to stifle these feelings? His current moment of clarity was the most he had felt like himself in… forever.

He thought of the mission—the Alpha’s urgency in finding her. There was something more to this woman than what Enzo was allowed to be aware of. Maybe she had answers as to the nature of the Thought Theory Protocol. Did the Alpha submit his own thoughts, or was he allowed to think freely, as Enzo was currently doing? If so, then the life Enzo had been living was a lie. A farce. Null and void. For nothing and no one should ever be required to live a life revoked of free thought, he reasoned.

He steadied his mind. He could still hear HERAa in the background jabbering on about insubordination and carelessness. His freedom of thought and reasoning of the Alpha’s restrictions catalyzed an alternate motive for his mission now.

He needed to find the woman.

But not for the Alpha… for himself.

He needed answers.

The Alpha could wait.

He was not sure what to think of the Alpha currently. The limitations and constraints enforced by the Alpha did not apply to him at the moment. He was free now, a true free-thinker. He resolved he would never go back to the enslavement of his mind, even if it meant remaining visually impaired. HERAa was wrong. He did not have weak resolve. Instead, he was stronger than any other Isobian. A resolution to stand up for what was right… and this end product was the liberty of thought.

“Are you even listening to me?” HERAa’s quiet voice echoed from his gauntlet.

“I can always hear you, HERAa.” He turned her volume up slightly.

“Am I reading your Thought Theory Protocol correctly? Are you currently at 100%?”

“Yes, I am.” He spoke resolutely.

“This is not allowed! You must reset your programming immediately!” She nearly short-circuited.

“Yeah… that’s not going to happen.” He spoke without guile.

“But… but…” HERAa actually appeared lost for words.

“Let’s continue our mission and find the woman,” he deceptively reassured her.

“Well, I suppose it is all we can do now,” she spoke hesitantly.

“Yes, it is,” he reached down and turned the volume on the gauntlet entirely off. He would enjoy complete silence, vacant of a HERAa, for the first time in 158 years.