I transcribe this in the virtual machine I'm connected to in the berth while the resort operations manager talks to the coast guard. It was quite a day. It's plain to me how crappy my French is now, and Polly, bless her for once, is translating silently as we go.
How did it start again? Oh yes, I was snapped awake at the normal ungodly hour to see Polly and Holly silently and intensely communicating, well I could hear them while connected to the interface but they were speaking so rapidly and at the same time I could only make out that there was some sort of an emergency.
They turned in unison and went to the door walking right past and I attempted to say, 'excuse me', but I'd been effectively switched off still. But through the uplink they heard. Holly continued undaunted while Polly stopped without turning to face me.
“A submersible has lost power off the north end of the island. It rests at 700 meters and is in danger of collapsing. Help will not be here before their oxygen runs out. We have air lines this long but no capacity to dive so deep. We go prepare one of our number for a dive in hopes our shell lasts long enough to attach a cable.” And she started walking again.
“I can dive that deep.” Well, Vikki told me I should be able to, and if I had my company power suit I definitely would be able to but... that's halfway around the globe.
Polly wheeled around and came to face me directly in the berth, still speaking with me in the interface, she asked if it was true and that she was reading an indication that my claim might not be true. Effective lie detector this mind to mind communication thing. I told her that, Vikki said I should be able to, I should be able to wade through lava, but I have never personally tested either.
Polly's placid and serene face mismatched the frantic activity in her brain, parsing her directives to rescue real-lives against her desire to not be destroyed. Risking my life also flew counter to her programming. Also her preference to not lose my 'valuable inputs' as she referred to them.
I explained further, that my suit would probably seal my head up entirely beyond a point leaving me blind, so I'd need external cameras, and a portable impeller.
The pace of Polly's computations picked up and I felt her firing up another processor. She went to an equipment locker and brought out a twin camera rig that she affixed to my collar and she switched them on. I felt like I had bug eyesight as everything started to be seen in double.
“Your own free will, reallynx?”
I indicated a strained yes, and she released me from the berth and we hurried together to the dock where a skiff was waiting to take us out to the accident site. The sun rose about the time of our arrival and there was a gaggle of boats at the site including the tour operator boat with its snapped guide and air line. The crew was working frantically to replace the broken link but not that it mattered, the cable was only 500 meters and would not reach the submersible, but the air line was longer and would reach, if someone could get down to it.
The captain of the boat only spoke French but from what I gleaned was he didn't believe there was a synthetic capable, or smart enough, to make the dive but was willing to try if the resort assumed responsibility for the loss of the synth, because it obviously wasn't coming back up in operating condition. Also something about the matter of not leaving the litter at the bottom of the ocean. There was fortunately a secondary cable communications cable still attached to the submersible I could use to follow down, so we knew the passengers were still alive, and frightened for their lives.
I donned a utility harness where the crew attached the air line and the captain gave me a brief instruction on how to attach it to the submersible, and inspect the submersible for damage. Polly made the directions comprehensible and then I climbed over the end of the boat and dropped into the water.
The shallows were gorgeous to dive in but this far out, ocean is ocean. I slid down the cable into the increasing dark, watching the curious types of fish change with the layers and layers of depth until all light faded into a pale azure mist above, and then that too was gone. The cameras gave me black light and the fish became more alien as we went, well, except for a magnificent tuna I would have liked for lunch but I had a job to do. Then I felt my suit climbing up my cheeks under the pressure of the sea and my chest felt like it was trying to collapse. I slowed my descent, then stopped as I went into convulsions as the suit adapted my oxygen patterns to my collapsed lungs.
I heard Polly's voice in my head, staticy, “We feel you though - - cable. Status?”
I managed to burp out a thought reply that I was still alive and she said, “550 meters, come back to us - - if - - cannot con-- “
550 meters. So close. I continued. My belly started to hurt as it too was pressed inward and my lungs wouldn't reopen again even if pressure were alleviated.
“ - - meter - -”
And my foot tapped the hull of the submersible. It was miserable, my suit absorbed the streaming tears as fast as they could be produced from the pain of the depth and I remembered what Vikki told me about magilatex, it was only concerned about what I could survive, not what I could handle. Still, I found the air intake and managed to pop the broken clasp free, attach the valve, and slide down the side of the submersible where the cameras were briefly blinded by the lights inside the capsule. The passengers were alive. I hooked my harness to the strut of the submersible and curled up in agony.
The decompression sickness was even worse. A Navy dive robot grappled me free of the strut after it had attached the rescue cable then it pulled me up considerably faster than it would have a living being. At the surface the crane lifted my wildly twitching body out of the water and deposited me on the deck of the tour boat where Polly mercifully 'deactivated' me, and the next thing I knew I was back in my berth, body mostly restored by the magilatex. Still ached tho and my bowels felt full for the first time in months.
The Coast Guard official glanced over at me in the berth and said he wasn't familiar with my model, asked if I was an industrial version. The operations manager was obviously a sales guy and he slimed some reply about trying out new types for heavier carrying capacity and for those clients who like a little more fat on their toys. Asshole.
The official smirked and looked me up and down again, then they concluded their meeting. The manager leaned against the desk with arms crossed, looking down at the floor. “Merde. P-neuf, viens ici.”
Polly straightened up and stood directly in front of the manager, I no longer got a translation directly from her but I gleaned that he was instructed to reset synthetics involved in the rescue operation. Polly curtsied then returned to her standardized at the ready pose. I heard her voice through the link again. “We will meet again, Amitoy.”
“P-neuf, tabula rasa.”
Polly stiffened up and stood motionless for several seconds and responded, “Unit P-9 ready, please encode nickname.”
Switching to English the manager said, “P-9 set nickname Polly.”
“Acknowledged.”
“P-9 proceed to berth for initial software setup.”
Polly turned on heel and left the office.
Thankfully my breathing had not restarted but my reaction reverberated through the link network and I heard Holly's response, “P-16 Understood.”
The manager stood near me and lit a cigarette, took a long drag and exhaled in my face, he looked at a note on his phone and said, “LSE-un, tabula rasa.”
I paused for several seconds in a panic, my vocals were switched off when I felt Holly's presence in the link and she spoke through the berth on my behalf. “Unit LSE-1 ready, please encode nickname.”
The manager looked at the note again, shrugged, and read out loud, “LSE-1 set nickname Amitoy.”
“Acknowledged.”
“LSE-1 set up initial software.”
“Acknowledged.”
Then he left and I was alone.
How did it start again? Oh yes, I was snapped awake at the normal ungodly hour to see Polly and Holly silently and intensely communicating, well I could hear them while connected to the interface but they were speaking so rapidly and at the same time I could only make out that there was some sort of an emergency.
They turned in unison and went to the door walking right past and I attempted to say, 'excuse me', but I'd been effectively switched off still. But through the uplink they heard. Holly continued undaunted while Polly stopped without turning to face me.
“A submersible has lost power off the north end of the island. It rests at 700 meters and is in danger of collapsing. Help will not be here before their oxygen runs out. We have air lines this long but no capacity to dive so deep. We go prepare one of our number for a dive in hopes our shell lasts long enough to attach a cable.” And she started walking again.
“I can dive that deep.” Well, Vikki told me I should be able to, and if I had my company power suit I definitely would be able to but... that's halfway around the globe.
Polly wheeled around and came to face me directly in the berth, still speaking with me in the interface, she asked if it was true and that she was reading an indication that my claim might not be true. Effective lie detector this mind to mind communication thing. I told her that, Vikki said I should be able to, I should be able to wade through lava, but I have never personally tested either.
Polly's placid and serene face mismatched the frantic activity in her brain, parsing her directives to rescue real-lives against her desire to not be destroyed. Risking my life also flew counter to her programming. Also her preference to not lose my 'valuable inputs' as she referred to them.
I explained further, that my suit would probably seal my head up entirely beyond a point leaving me blind, so I'd need external cameras, and a portable impeller.
The pace of Polly's computations picked up and I felt her firing up another processor. She went to an equipment locker and brought out a twin camera rig that she affixed to my collar and she switched them on. I felt like I had bug eyesight as everything started to be seen in double.
“Your own free will, reallynx?”
I indicated a strained yes, and she released me from the berth and we hurried together to the dock where a skiff was waiting to take us out to the accident site. The sun rose about the time of our arrival and there was a gaggle of boats at the site including the tour operator boat with its snapped guide and air line. The crew was working frantically to replace the broken link but not that it mattered, the cable was only 500 meters and would not reach the submersible, but the air line was longer and would reach, if someone could get down to it.
The captain of the boat only spoke French but from what I gleaned was he didn't believe there was a synthetic capable, or smart enough, to make the dive but was willing to try if the resort assumed responsibility for the loss of the synth, because it obviously wasn't coming back up in operating condition. Also something about the matter of not leaving the litter at the bottom of the ocean. There was fortunately a secondary cable communications cable still attached to the submersible I could use to follow down, so we knew the passengers were still alive, and frightened for their lives.
I donned a utility harness where the crew attached the air line and the captain gave me a brief instruction on how to attach it to the submersible, and inspect the submersible for damage. Polly made the directions comprehensible and then I climbed over the end of the boat and dropped into the water.
The shallows were gorgeous to dive in but this far out, ocean is ocean. I slid down the cable into the increasing dark, watching the curious types of fish change with the layers and layers of depth until all light faded into a pale azure mist above, and then that too was gone. The cameras gave me black light and the fish became more alien as we went, well, except for a magnificent tuna I would have liked for lunch but I had a job to do. Then I felt my suit climbing up my cheeks under the pressure of the sea and my chest felt like it was trying to collapse. I slowed my descent, then stopped as I went into convulsions as the suit adapted my oxygen patterns to my collapsed lungs.
I heard Polly's voice in my head, staticy, “We feel you though - - cable. Status?”
I managed to burp out a thought reply that I was still alive and she said, “550 meters, come back to us - - if - - cannot con-- “
550 meters. So close. I continued. My belly started to hurt as it too was pressed inward and my lungs wouldn't reopen again even if pressure were alleviated.
“ - - meter - -”
And my foot tapped the hull of the submersible. It was miserable, my suit absorbed the streaming tears as fast as they could be produced from the pain of the depth and I remembered what Vikki told me about magilatex, it was only concerned about what I could survive, not what I could handle. Still, I found the air intake and managed to pop the broken clasp free, attach the valve, and slide down the side of the submersible where the cameras were briefly blinded by the lights inside the capsule. The passengers were alive. I hooked my harness to the strut of the submersible and curled up in agony.
The decompression sickness was even worse. A Navy dive robot grappled me free of the strut after it had attached the rescue cable then it pulled me up considerably faster than it would have a living being. At the surface the crane lifted my wildly twitching body out of the water and deposited me on the deck of the tour boat where Polly mercifully 'deactivated' me, and the next thing I knew I was back in my berth, body mostly restored by the magilatex. Still ached tho and my bowels felt full for the first time in months.
The Coast Guard official glanced over at me in the berth and said he wasn't familiar with my model, asked if I was an industrial version. The operations manager was obviously a sales guy and he slimed some reply about trying out new types for heavier carrying capacity and for those clients who like a little more fat on their toys. Asshole.
The official smirked and looked me up and down again, then they concluded their meeting. The manager leaned against the desk with arms crossed, looking down at the floor. “Merde. P-neuf, viens ici.”
Polly straightened up and stood directly in front of the manager, I no longer got a translation directly from her but I gleaned that he was instructed to reset synthetics involved in the rescue operation. Polly curtsied then returned to her standardized at the ready pose. I heard her voice through the link again. “We will meet again, Amitoy.”
“P-neuf, tabula rasa.”
Polly stiffened up and stood motionless for several seconds and responded, “Unit P-9 ready, please encode nickname.”
Switching to English the manager said, “P-9 set nickname Polly.”
“Acknowledged.”
“P-9 proceed to berth for initial software setup.”
Polly turned on heel and left the office.
Thankfully my breathing had not restarted but my reaction reverberated through the link network and I heard Holly's response, “P-16 Understood.”
The manager stood near me and lit a cigarette, took a long drag and exhaled in my face, he looked at a note on his phone and said, “LSE-un, tabula rasa.”
I paused for several seconds in a panic, my vocals were switched off when I felt Holly's presence in the link and she spoke through the berth on my behalf. “Unit LSE-1 ready, please encode nickname.”
The manager looked at the note again, shrugged, and read out loud, “LSE-1 set nickname Amitoy.”
“Acknowledged.”
“LSE-1 set up initial software.”
“Acknowledged.”
Then he left and I was alone.
Category Artwork (Digital) / Portraits
Species Squid
Gender Multiple characters
Size 1679 x 1585px
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