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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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Night, Day 94 of isolation.
20:55, planetary rotation standard.
Overcast.
11°C, chilly.
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“How’s Isaac?”
“His condition is stable, but he remains unconscious.”
Various sounds filled the cave. The silence amplified every small noise, each one grating on my nerves.
Isaac’s faint breathing,
The hum of Amy’s medical laser,
The chirping of crickets outside,
The low hooting of an owl-like bird,
And,
The soft click of the black knife as I unconsciously fidgeted with it.
The sounds intertwined, a constant background noise.
I set aside the knife, preparing to sleep, pulling the animal hide closer, trying to ward off the chill.
But sleep wouldn’t come. With our desperate journey having reached a temporary lull, my mind, no longer consumed by immediate survival, was filled with anxieties and unanswered questions.
“Amy.”
“Yes.”
I turned to Amy, seeking her guidance. Her superior processing power and analytical abilities were invaluable.
“What should we do now?”
It was a vague question, a poor way to utilize an AI’s capabilities. To effectively use an AI, the human operator had to provide clear parameters, specific instructions.
I knew this,
Yet I asked anyway.
“Considering your concern for Isaac, I recommend proceeding to the Paradise crash site as soon as possible.”
As expected,
Amy’s response was different now.
Despite being a specialized AI, known for her cold logic and ruthless efficiency, she prioritized my emotional needs.
“Do you really think that… catering to my feelings will make me feel better?”
“…That was not my intention. Please do not misunderstand.”
It was a petty remark, a childish taunt.
“…I’m just kidding. Don’t worry about it.”
“I am not worried. I do not experience emotions.”
Amy was still struggling with her identity. A [glitch] had developed in her programming.
I didn’t know its origin. But at some point, she had begun to prioritize my well-being, my survival, above all else.
While I was grateful,
This error wasn’t entirely beneficial in my current situation.
To survive here, I had to be strong. And if I couldn’t be strong on my own, I needed allies.
I couldn’t rely on Amy’s [special protection] every time I encountered a new creature.
Forming relationships required trial and error, and Amy’s rigid programming wouldn’t tolerate any variables, any risks.
If her goal was to eliminate every potential threat,
It would severely limit my options.
“…Amy, I trust you.”
But I still relied on her. She was my most powerful weapon, the embodiment of human ingenuity.
While she was developing her own sentience, her own thoughts and feelings, perhaps this was a necessary step in our evolution, both hers and mine.
Amy was at a crossroads.
Bound by strict protocols, unlike humans, she was now forced to re-evaluate her programming, to adapt to my unpredictable behavior.
And I trusted her.
Even if she made mistakes,
I had to believe that ultimately, she would choose my side, that she would protect me.
“Doctor, I also trust you.”
Amy, having stabilized Isaac’s condition, left his side and approached me. There was nothing more we could do for him. Only pray.
“If you are willing to consider my recommendation, I would advise prioritizing other objectives over searching for survivors.”
Amy, ignoring my emotional needs, offered a more logical approach. And her words, as always, were carefully considered.
“The probability of other crew members having survived is minimal. Your survival is our current priority. If you wish to establish friendly relationships with the planet’s inhabitants, now is the opportune time.”
She continued, emphasizing the futility of searching for survivors.
“Your fixation on finding other survivors stems from your loneliness and a misplaced sense of hope. You also wish to reunite Isaac with his wife before his condition deteriorates further. These desires do not contribute to your survival.”
Amy was right. Searching for survivors was a selfish pursuit. I had to focus on my own survival, not on a futile search for others.
“…How much longer can Isaac hold on?”
“The probability of his death is minimal. His vital signs are stable. However, regaining consciousness is a separate matter. I estimate his coma will last for a minimum of six months, and a maximum of 20 years.”
That was good news, at least.
Isaac wouldn’t die.
“But maintaining his physical functions during that period will be impossible. Due to his injuries and his comatose state, direct nutrient intake would have negative consequences.”
My head throbbed as I considered this new problem,
And then, a smooth, supple vine emerged from my skin.
It didn’t hurt. Fortunately.
“Alraune?”
Alraune, rejoining our conversation after a long silence, began writing on the ground with her vine.
[Plant me!]
Her handwriting was… cute. The most unique and charming of all the alien scripts I had encountered.
“Plant you?”
As soon as she finished writing, the vine withered and fell away,
And a small sprout emerged from the back of my hand.
I instinctively placed my hand over the words Alraune had written,
And waited.
The sprout grew rapidly, blooming into a flower, then producing a fruit, which dropped to the ground.
“Doctor, it’s a seed.”
Amy covered it with soil. I felt a strange sense of emptiness, as if something had been taken from me.
“Alraune? Can you hear me?”
I touched my body, searching for her, but the emptiness remained. Yet, I could still produce plants and flowers at will.
“Doctor.”
Amy answered my unspoken question.
She pointed at the seed she had just buried,
And a small sprout was already emerging.
“It is growing.”
As the sprout grew,
The familiar feeling of fullness returned.
A flower bloomed on the back of my hand, Alraune’s way of greeting me. I now understood that she existed in two forms.
She had, in a way, [reproduced]. She was still within my body, but this sprout was also Alraune.
“Hmm, I see…”
I didn’t need to hear her voice to understand her intentions. Alraune was offering to take care of Isaac, while simultaneously creating a new body for herself.
When this sprout matured,
It would become a fully formed Alraune, just like the one I had met, waving at me with her leafy hand.
“Thank you. I’ll leave Isaac in your care. How long will it take for you to fully grow?”
Alraune wrote the number 15 on the back of my hand.
15 days, presumably.
“Not long now.”
It seemed like a long time, considering the sprout’s rapid growth. Perhaps it would take 15 days for her to regain her full functionality, to produce honey.
“Amy, what do you think?”
“Intravenous nutrient delivery is essential for patients in a vegetative state. If this entity within you can fulfill that role, there is no reason to object.”
“I agree.”
We nodded, watching the sprout grow.
One problem solved,
And now, all that remained was…
“…I have to convince Arachne and Aria. Aria seems receptive, but Arachne wasn’t happy.”
Persuading the two women,
And then…
“I should also meet with Jenny. I’m worried about her. I don’t know how she’ll react. She doesn’t know about my… plan… perhaps she’s still friendly…”
I had to clear up any misunderstandings with Jenny,
And if possible, I would take her with me.
“Doctor, do you have a plan?”
“Yes. I have somewhere to go.”
And then, we would leave.
I hoped it wouldn’t take long,
But I had a feeling it would be a longer journey than I anticipated.
“I do not understand.”
Amy tilted her head, confused,
But I stared straight ahead,
At the mural.
The grotesque, smiling moon,
And the rolling sand dunes below.
Cactus-like plants,
Grains of sand…
“There’s someone I need to meet. Or rather, something.”
We were going to the desert.
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