July 26, 2018
The woman stood and stared through the translucent ceiling. A school of fish swept over the top of the secret bunker, but she wasn't looking at them. She watched as the distant shadow grew in the murky ocean depths. It was another submarine. The first one was only a few days ago and the worry and paranoia were almost enough to fry her circuits.
Despite clearly not being human she shared some similarities to a human woman. Perhaps in low light and at a distance, you might confuse her for one. But human females do not live for over 400 million years, or so her calculations had led her to assume. Her body was constructed from a lattice of crystals which shimmered strangely as the light refracted off the quartz. She stood tall and straight, with her neck stretched as she gazed upwards at such an angle that the back of her head was perpendicular to her spine. A gem pulsated with violent red energy at her throat. She had a heart-shaped face which may have looked uncanny to some, but her hard features rested in a caring and compassionate expression. Nothing she could do could hide the glint of anxiety in her eyes.
Despite her best efforts, she also could not stop herself from calculating how much time it would take for them to be discovered. She had observed the previous submarine travelling an average speed of 70 kilometres per hour. Her camera-sharp eyesight judged the position of the new threat to be perhaps 150 kilometres away. That meant their luck may run out in 2.15 hours.
The inventors who created her had made some pretty dire miscalculations. Every one of her internal knowledge logs agreed that the Ordovician period will only last a few million years. After that, the green plague on the surface world above would seize— and slowly the atmosphere would become breathable again, returning to the status quo.
"Mommy mommy!" The little boy screamed, running into the observation chamber. In his excitement, he almost tripped and fell, but his usually considerate robotic caregiver didn't even notice. Her eyes were still fixed on the slowly growing shadow.
After a few seconds, she snapped out of her fear-induced trance. It had seemed like every quartz transistor in her circuits had seized firing. For several moments every one of her millions of processes had stopped. She smiled down at the little biological boy and gently stroked his hair. She tried to dispel all panic from her features and be the emotional pillar they needed. She had to stay strong.
The child's skin was tinged red, a characteristic common for his race. He lifted one muscular arm to his face and removed the accessory he wore with clumsy slender fingers.
"Mommy is stopped working again," the boy said, holding out his quartz visor. She took it off him and inspected the indicators along the side. She took a breath of the clean air. The pure molecules of carbon dioxide, ammonia and methane supplied her internal engine with the fuel it needed to keep going.
"Don't worry Zelkath," she spoke softly and gently stroked his cheek. The robot's tone of voice was otherworldly but somehow managed to calm even the angriest souls. "It's just out of battery, that's all. Here, let's take it to the Energy Room and get it recharged shall we?"
She took the boy's hand in her own and left the Observation Room. On her way out her fingers glanced over a panel in the wall, sending it a signal with a quick zap of electricity. The room dramatically darkened in an instant as the glass ceiling fogged over and turned opaque.
The depressing calculations that cursed her processors returned, as she couldn't help but track how much energy they had left. The inventors had built the bunker to be self-sustaining, but they expected it to be necessary for a few million years, not several hundred million. Most of the machines were broken and beyond repair and soon they might be forced to leave the bunker and introduce themselves to the mammals on the surface face to face— if they were not discovered first. It was either that, or she could watch as her children slowly died of oxygen poisoning as they no longer had the power to maintain the artificial generators.
She had let the children remain in the Simulation Chamber, which certainly was not helping the power situation. She simply did not have the heart to force the children to face reality when the circumstances were this dire. Their bunker was in complete disrepair, it was a miracle that they were still airtight. Broken technology was strewn around the rooms; the machines that she did not have the appropriate knowledge libraries to know how to fix.
They made it to the Energy Room which was dominated by a huge crimson crystal floating in the centre. Every monitor in the room reminded her of the desperate power situation. She ignored them and hovered over to one of the charging ports, hoping that poor little Zelkath was not going to look too closely at any of the information displays. She pressed the visor close to the magnetic pad and fizzled in pleasure as she felt current flow through it and her body. In a matter of seconds, the visor was fully charged and she passed it back to the jubilant boy.
He grabbed it in both hands and slapped it back over his face, thanking his autonomous mother with glee and gave her a quick hug. He then ran off, back to the Simulation Chamber, and whichever fanciful universe he chose to load up. She was sure that regardless of which artificial reality he chose, they were all better places than this real one.
To her credit, Mother's calculations had been correct. The submarine spotted them almost exactly 2.15 hours later. The humans had discovered their secret bunker, and thanks to the natural curiosity that drove their species they were back in a matter of weeks to investigate.
The revelation that a hyper-intelligent, sentient race hibernated at the bottom of the Mariana Trench shook humanity. Unfortunately, all they found were the corpses of hundreds of strange humanoid creatures, for the explosions they used to force open the bunker brought with it a rush of water that destroyed the essential atmospheric generators.
The diver who found her was praised by every media outlet as a heroic pioneer. From the depths of the seafloor, he retrieved a curious automaton. The dead robot was uncanny, it looked a lot like a human woman. Her face was twisted and monstrous. Every one of her features were frozen in an expression of hatred and grief. Needless to say, she sold for billions.
The woman stood and stared through the translucent ceiling. A school of fish swept over the top of the secret bunker, but she wasn't looking at them. She watched as the distant shadow grew in the murky ocean depths. It was another submarine. The first one was only a few days ago and the worry and paranoia were almost enough to fry her circuits.
Despite clearly not being human she shared some similarities to a human woman. Perhaps in low light and at a distance, you might confuse her for one. But human females do not live for over 400 million years, or so her calculations had led her to assume. Her body was constructed from a lattice of crystals which shimmered strangely as the light refracted off the quartz. She stood tall and straight, with her neck stretched as she gazed upwards at such an angle that the back of her head was perpendicular to her spine. A gem pulsated with violent red energy at her throat. She had a heart-shaped face which may have looked uncanny to some, but her hard features rested in a caring and compassionate expression. Nothing she could do could hide the glint of anxiety in her eyes.
Despite her best efforts, she also could not stop herself from calculating how much time it would take for them to be discovered. She had observed the previous submarine travelling an average speed of 70 kilometres per hour. Her camera-sharp eyesight judged the position of the new threat to be perhaps 150 kilometres away. That meant their luck may run out in 2.15 hours.
The inventors who created her had made some pretty dire miscalculations. Every one of her internal knowledge logs agreed that the Ordovician period will only last a few million years. After that, the green plague on the surface world above would seize— and slowly the atmosphere would become breathable again, returning to the status quo.
"Mommy mommy!" The little boy screamed, running into the observation chamber. In his excitement, he almost tripped and fell, but his usually considerate robotic caregiver didn't even notice. Her eyes were still fixed on the slowly growing shadow.
After a few seconds, she snapped out of her fear-induced trance. It had seemed like every quartz transistor in her circuits had seized firing. For several moments every one of her millions of processes had stopped. She smiled down at the little biological boy and gently stroked his hair. She tried to dispel all panic from her features and be the emotional pillar they needed. She had to stay strong.
The child's skin was tinged red, a characteristic common for his race. He lifted one muscular arm to his face and removed the accessory he wore with clumsy slender fingers.
"Mommy is stopped working again," the boy said, holding out his quartz visor. She took it off him and inspected the indicators along the side. She took a breath of the clean air. The pure molecules of carbon dioxide, ammonia and methane supplied her internal engine with the fuel it needed to keep going.
"Don't worry Zelkath," she spoke softly and gently stroked his cheek. The robot's tone of voice was otherworldly but somehow managed to calm even the angriest souls. "It's just out of battery, that's all. Here, let's take it to the Energy Room and get it recharged shall we?"
She took the boy's hand in her own and left the Observation Room. On her way out her fingers glanced over a panel in the wall, sending it a signal with a quick zap of electricity. The room dramatically darkened in an instant as the glass ceiling fogged over and turned opaque.
The depressing calculations that cursed her processors returned, as she couldn't help but track how much energy they had left. The inventors had built the bunker to be self-sustaining, but they expected it to be necessary for a few million years, not several hundred million. Most of the machines were broken and beyond repair and soon they might be forced to leave the bunker and introduce themselves to the mammals on the surface face to face— if they were not discovered first. It was either that, or she could watch as her children slowly died of oxygen poisoning as they no longer had the power to maintain the artificial generators.
She had let the children remain in the Simulation Chamber, which certainly was not helping the power situation. She simply did not have the heart to force the children to face reality when the circumstances were this dire. Their bunker was in complete disrepair, it was a miracle that they were still airtight. Broken technology was strewn around the rooms; the machines that she did not have the appropriate knowledge libraries to know how to fix.
They made it to the Energy Room which was dominated by a huge crimson crystal floating in the centre. Every monitor in the room reminded her of the desperate power situation. She ignored them and hovered over to one of the charging ports, hoping that poor little Zelkath was not going to look too closely at any of the information displays. She pressed the visor close to the magnetic pad and fizzled in pleasure as she felt current flow through it and her body. In a matter of seconds, the visor was fully charged and she passed it back to the jubilant boy.
He grabbed it in both hands and slapped it back over his face, thanking his autonomous mother with glee and gave her a quick hug. He then ran off, back to the Simulation Chamber, and whichever fanciful universe he chose to load up. She was sure that regardless of which artificial reality he chose, they were all better places than this real one.
To her credit, Mother's calculations had been correct. The submarine spotted them almost exactly 2.15 hours later. The humans had discovered their secret bunker, and thanks to the natural curiosity that drove their species they were back in a matter of weeks to investigate.
The revelation that a hyper-intelligent, sentient race hibernated at the bottom of the Mariana Trench shook humanity. Unfortunately, all they found were the corpses of hundreds of strange humanoid creatures, for the explosions they used to force open the bunker brought with it a rush of water that destroyed the essential atmospheric generators.
The diver who found her was praised by every media outlet as a heroic pioneer. From the depths of the seafloor, he retrieved a curious automaton. The dead robot was uncanny, it looked a lot like a human woman. Her face was twisted and monstrous. Every one of her features were frozen in an expression of hatred and grief. Needless to say, she sold for billions.
The woman stood and stared through the translucent ceiling. A school of fish swept over the top of the secret bunker, but she wasn't looking at them. She watched as the distant shadow grew in the murky ocean depths. It was another submarine. The first one was only a few days ago and the worry and paranoia were almost enough to fry her circuits.
Despite clearly not being human she shared some similarities to a human woman. Perhaps in low light and at a distance, you might confuse her for one. But human females do not live for over 400 million years, or so her calculations had led her to assume. Her body was constructed from a lattice of crystals which shimmered strangely as the light refracted off the quartz. She stood tall and straight, with her neck stretched as she gazed upwards at such an angle that the back of her head was perpendicular to her spine. A gem pulsated with violent red energy at her throat. She had a heart-shaped face which may have looked uncanny to some, but her hard features rested in a caring and compassionate expression. Nothing she could do could hide the glint of anxiety in her eyes.
Despite her best efforts, she also could not stop herself from calculating how much time it would take for them to be discovered. She had observed the previous submarine travelling an average speed of 70 kilometres per hour. Her camera-sharp eyesight judged the position of the new threat to be perhaps 150 kilometres away. That meant their luck may run out in 2.15 hours.
The inventors who created her had made some pretty dire miscalculations. Every one of her internal knowledge logs agreed that the Ordovician period will only last a few million years. After that, the green plague on the surface world above would seize— and slowly the atmosphere would become breathable again, returning to the status quo.
"Mommy mommy!" The little boy screamed, running into the observation chamber. In his excitement, he almost tripped and fell, but his usually considerate robotic caregiver didn't even notice. Her eyes were still fixed on the slowly growing shadow.
After a few seconds, she snapped out of her fear-induced trance. It had seemed like every quartz transistor in her circuits had seized firing. For several moments every one of her millions of processes had stopped. She smiled down at the little biological boy and gently stroked his hair. She tried to dispel all panic from her features and be the emotional pillar they needed. She had to stay strong.
The child's skin was tinged red, a characteristic common for his race. He lifted one muscular arm to his face and removed the accessory he wore with clumsy slender fingers.
"Mommy is stopped working again," the boy said, holding out his quartz visor. She took it off him and inspected the indicators along the side. She took a breath of the clean air. The pure molecules of carbon dioxide, ammonia and methane supplied her internal engine with the fuel it needed to keep going.
"Don't worry Zelkath," she spoke softly and gently stroked his cheek. The robot's tone of voice was otherworldly but somehow managed to calm even the angriest souls. "It's just out of battery, that's all. Here, let's take it to the Energy Room and get it recharged shall we?"
She took the boy's hand in her own and left the Observation Room. On her way out her fingers glanced over a panel in the wall, sending it a signal with a quick zap of electricity. The room dramatically darkened in an instant as the glass ceiling fogged over and turned opaque.
The depressing calculations that cursed her processors returned, as she couldn't help but track how much energy they had left. The inventors had built the bunker to be self-sustaining, but they expected it to be necessary for a few million years, not several hundred million. Most of the machines were broken and beyond repair and soon they might be forced to leave the bunker and introduce themselves to the mammals on the surface face to face— if they were not discovered first. It was either that, or she could watch as her children slowly died of oxygen poisoning as they no longer had the power to maintain the artificial generators.
She had let the children remain in the Simulation Chamber, which certainly was not helping the power situation. She simply did not have the heart to force the children to face reality when the circumstances were this dire. Their bunker was in complete disrepair, it was a miracle that they were still airtight. Broken technology was strewn around the rooms; the machines that she did not have the appropriate knowledge libraries to know how to fix.
They made it to the Energy Room which was dominated by a huge crimson crystal floating in the centre. Every monitor in the room reminded her of the desperate power situation. She ignored them and hovered over to one of the charging ports, hoping that poor little Zelkath was not going to look too closely at any of the information displays. She pressed the visor close to the magnetic pad and fizzled in pleasure as she felt current flow through it and her body. In a matter of seconds, the visor was fully charged and she passed it back to the jubilant boy.
He grabbed it in both hands and slapped it back over his face, thanking his autonomous mother with glee and gave her a quick hug. He then ran off, back to the Simulation Chamber, and whichever fanciful universe he chose to load up. She was sure that regardless of which artificial reality he chose, they were all better places than this real one.
To her credit, Mother's calculations had been correct. The submarine spotted them almost exactly 2.15 hours later. The humans had discovered their secret bunker, and thanks to the natural curiosity that drove their species they were back in a matter of weeks to investigate.
The revelation that a hyper-intelligent, sentient race hibernated at the bottom of the Mariana Trench shook humanity. Unfortunately, all they found were the corpses of hundreds of strange humanoid creatures, for the explosions they used to force open the bunker brought with it a rush of water that destroyed the essential atmospheric generators.
The diver who found her was praised by every media outlet as a heroic pioneer. From the depths of the seafloor, he retrieved a curious automaton. The dead robot was uncanny, it looked a lot like a human woman. Her face was twisted and monstrous. Every one of her features were frozen in an expression of hatred and grief. Needless to say, she sold for billions.
The woman stood and stared through the translucent ceiling. A school of fish swept over the top of the secret bunker, but she wasn't looking at them. She watched as the distant shadow grew in the murky ocean depths. It was another submarine. The first one was only a few days ago and the worry and paranoia were almost enough to fry her circuits.
Despite clearly not being human she shared some similarities to a human woman. Perhaps in low light and at a distance, you might confuse her for one. But human females do not live for over 400 million years, or so her calculations had led her to assume. Her body was constructed from a lattice of crystals which shimmered strangely as the light refracted off the quartz. She stood tall and straight, with her neck stretched as she gazed upwards at such an angle that the back of her head was perpendicular to her spine. A gem pulsated with violent red energy at her throat. She had a heart-shaped face which may have looked uncanny to some, but her hard features rested in a caring and compassionate expression. Nothing she could do could hide the glint of anxiety in her eyes.
Despite her best efforts, she also could not stop herself from calculating how much time it would take for them to be discovered. She had observed the previous submarine travelling an average speed of 70 kilometres per hour. Her camera-sharp eyesight judged the position of the new threat to be perhaps 150 kilometres away. That meant their luck may run out in 2.15 hours.
The inventors who created her had made some pretty dire miscalculations. Every one of her internal knowledge logs agreed that the Ordovician period will only last a few million years. After that, the green plague on the surface world above would seize— and slowly the atmosphere would become breathable again, returning to the status quo.
"Mommy mommy!" The little boy screamed, running into the observation chamber. In his excitement, he almost tripped and fell, but his usually considerate robotic caregiver didn't even notice. Her eyes were still fixed on the slowly growing shadow.
After a few seconds, she snapped out of her fear-induced trance. It had seemed like every quartz transistor in her circuits had seized firing. For several moments every one of her millions of processes had stopped. She smiled down at the little biological boy and gently stroked his hair. She tried to dispel all panic from her features and be the emotional pillar they needed. She had to stay strong.
The child's skin was tinged red, a characteristic common for his race. He lifted one muscular arm to his face and removed the accessory he wore with clumsy slender fingers.
"Mommy is stopped working again," the boy said, holding out his quartz visor. She took it off him and inspected the indicators along the side. She took a breath of the clean air. The pure molecules of carbon dioxide, ammonia and methane supplied her internal engine with the fuel it needed to keep going.
"Don't worry Zelkath," she spoke softly and gently stroked his cheek. The robot's tone of voice was otherworldly but somehow managed to calm even the angriest souls. "It's just out of battery, that's all. Here, let's take it to the Energy Room and get it recharged shall we?"
She took the boy's hand in her own and left the Observation Room. On her way out her fingers glanced over a panel in the wall, sending it a signal with a quick zap of electricity. The room dramatically darkened in an instant as the glass ceiling fogged over and turned opaque.
The depressing calculations that cursed her processors returned, as she couldn't help but track how much energy they had left. The inventors had built the bunker to be self-sustaining, but they expected it to be necessary for a few million years, not several hundred million. Most of the machines were broken and beyond repair and soon they might be forced to leave the bunker and introduce themselves to the mammals on the surface face to face— if they were not discovered first. It was either that, or she could watch as her children slowly died of oxygen poisoning as they no longer had the power to maintain the artificial generators.
She had let the children remain in the Simulation Chamber, which certainly was not helping the power situation. She simply did not have the heart to force the children to face reality when the circumstances were this dire. Their bunker was in complete disrepair, it was a miracle that they were still airtight. Broken technology was strewn around the rooms; the machines that she did not have the appropriate knowledge libraries to know how to fix.
They made it to the Energy Room which was dominated by a huge crimson crystal floating in the centre. Every monitor in the room reminded her of the desperate power situation. She ignored them and hovered over to one of the charging ports, hoping that poor little Zelkath was not going to look too closely at any of the information displays. She pressed the visor close to the magnetic pad and fizzled in pleasure as she felt current flow through it and her body. In a matter of seconds, the visor was fully charged and she passed it back to the jubilant boy.
He grabbed it in both hands and slapped it back over his face, thanking his autonomous mother with glee and gave her a quick hug. He then ran off, back to the Simulation Chamber, and whichever fanciful universe he chose to load up. She was sure that regardless of which artificial reality he chose, they were all better places than this real one.
To her credit, Mother's calculations had been correct. The submarine spotted them almost exactly 2.15 hours later. The humans had discovered their secret bunker, and thanks to the natural curiosity that drove their species they were back in a matter of weeks to investigate.
The revelation that a hyper-intelligent, sentient race hibernated at the bottom of the Mariana Trench shook humanity. Unfortunately, all they found were the corpses of hundreds of strange humanoid creatures, for the explosions they used to force open the bunker brought with it a rush of water that destroyed the essential atmospheric generators.
The diver who found her was praised by every media outlet as a heroic pioneer. From the depths of the seafloor, he retrieved a curious automaton. The dead robot was uncanny, it looked a lot like a human woman. Her face was twisted and monstrous. Every one of her features were frozen in an expression of hatred and grief. Needless to say, she sold for billions.
The woman stood and stared through the translucent ceiling. A school of fish swept over the top of the secret bunker, but she wasn't looking at them. She watched as the distant shadow grew in the murky ocean depths. It was another submarine. The first one was only a few days ago and the worry and paranoia were almost enough to fry her circuits.
Despite clearly not being human she shared some similarities to a human woman. Perhaps in low light and at a distance, you might confuse her for one. But human females do not live for over 400 million years, or so her calculations had led her to assume. Her body was constructed from a lattice of crystals which shimmered strangely as the light refracted off the quartz. She stood tall and straight, with her neck stretched as she gazed upwards at such an angle that the back of her head was perpendicular to her spine. A gem pulsated with violent red energy at her throat. She had a heart-shaped face which may have looked uncanny to some, but her hard features rested in a caring and compassionate expression. Nothing she could do could hide the glint of anxiety in her eyes.
Despite her best efforts, she also could not stop herself from calculating how much time it would take for them to be discovered. She had observed the previous submarine travelling an average speed of 70 kilometres per hour. Her camera-sharp eyesight judged the position of the new threat to be perhaps 150 kilometres away. That meant their luck may run out in 2.15 hours.
The inventors who created her had made some pretty dire miscalculations. Every one of her internal knowledge logs agreed that the Ordovician period will only last a few million years. After that, the green plague on the surface world above would seize— and slowly the atmosphere would become breathable again, returning to the status quo.
"Mommy mommy!" The little boy screamed, running into the observation chamber. In his excitement, he almost tripped and fell, but his usually considerate robotic caregiver didn't even notice. Her eyes were still fixed on the slowly growing shadow.
After a few seconds, she snapped out of her fear-induced trance. It had seemed like every quartz transistor in her circuits had seized firing. For several moments every one of her millions of processes had stopped. She smiled down at the little biological boy and gently stroked his hair. She tried to dispel all panic from her features and be the emotional pillar they needed. She had to stay strong.
The child's skin was tinged red, a characteristic common for his race. He lifted one muscular arm to his face and removed the accessory he wore with clumsy slender fingers.
"Mommy is stopped working again," the boy said, holding out his quartz visor. She took it off him and inspected the indicators along the side. She took a breath of the clean air. The pure molecules of carbon dioxide, ammonia and methane supplied her internal engine with the fuel it needed to keep going.
"Don't worry Zelkath," she spoke softly and gently stroked his cheek. The robot's tone of voice was otherworldly but somehow managed to calm even the angriest souls. "It's just out of battery, that's all. Here, let's take it to the Energy Room and get it recharged shall we?"
She took the boy's hand in her own and left the Observation Room. On her way out her fingers glanced over a panel in the wall, sending it a signal with a quick zap of electricity. The room dramatically darkened in an instant as the glass ceiling fogged over and turned opaque.
The depressing calculations that cursed her processors returned, as she couldn't help but track how much energy they had left. The inventors had built the bunker to be self-sustaining, but they expected it to be necessary for a few million years, not several hundred million. Most of the machines were broken and beyond repair and soon they might be forced to leave the bunker and introduce themselves to the mammals on the surface face to face— if they were not discovered first. It was either that, or she could watch as her children slowly died of oxygen poisoning as they no longer had the power to maintain the artificial generators.
She had let the children remain in the Simulation Chamber, which certainly was not helping the power situation. She simply did not have the heart to force the children to face reality when the circumstances were this dire. Their bunker was in complete disrepair, it was a miracle that they were still airtight. Broken technology was strewn around the rooms; the machines that she did not have the appropriate knowledge libraries to know how to fix.
They made it to the Energy Room which was dominated by a huge crimson crystal floating in the centre. Every monitor in the room reminded her of the desperate power situation. She ignored them and hovered over to one of the charging ports, hoping that poor little Zelkath was not going to look too closely at any of the information displays. She pressed the visor close to the magnetic pad and fizzled in pleasure as she felt current flow through it and her body. In a matter of seconds, the visor was fully charged and she passed it back to the jubilant boy.
He grabbed it in both hands and slapped it back over his face, thanking his autonomous mother with glee and gave her a quick hug. He then ran off, back to the Simulation Chamber, and whichever fanciful universe he chose to load up. She was sure that regardless of which artificial reality he chose, they were all better places than this real one.
To her credit, Mother's calculations had been correct. The submarine spotted them almost exactly 2.15 hours later. The humans had discovered their secret bunker, and thanks to the natural curiosity that drove their species they were back in a matter of weeks to investigate.
The revelation that a hyper-intelligent, sentient race hibernated at the bottom of the Mariana Trench shook humanity. Unfortunately, all they found were the corpses of hundreds of strange humanoid creatures, for the explosions they used to force open the bunker brought with it a rush of water that destroyed the essential atmospheric generators.
The diver who found her was praised by every media outlet as a heroic pioneer. From the depths of the seafloor, he retrieved a curious automaton. The dead robot was uncanny, it looked a lot like a human woman. Her face was twisted and monstrous. Every one of her features were frozen in an expression of hatred and grief. Needless to say, she sold for billions.
The woman stood and stared through the translucent ceiling. A school of fish swept over the top of the secret bunker, but she wasn't looking at them. She watched as the distant shadow grew in the murky ocean depths. It was another submarine. The first one was only a few days ago and the worry and paranoia were almost enough to fry her circuits.
Despite clearly not being human she shared some similarities to a human woman. Perhaps in low light and at a distance, you might confuse her for one. But human females do not live for over 400 million years, or so her calculations had led her to assume. Her body was constructed from a lattice of crystals which shimmered strangely as the light refracted off the quartz. She stood tall and straight, with her neck stretched as she gazed upwards at such an angle that the back of her head was perpendicular to her spine. A gem pulsated with violent red energy at her throat. She had a heart-shaped face which may have looked uncanny to some, but her hard features rested in a caring and compassionate expression. Nothing she could do could hide the glint of anxiety in her eyes.
Despite her best efforts, she also could not stop herself from calculating how much time it would take for them to be discovered. She had observed the previous submarine travelling an average speed of 70 kilometres per hour. Her camera-sharp eyesight judged the position of the new threat to be perhaps 150 kilometres away. That meant their luck may run out in 2.15 hours.
The inventors who created her had made some pretty dire miscalculations. Every one of her internal knowledge logs agreed that the Ordovician period will only last a few million years. After that, the green plague on the surface world above would seize— and slowly the atmosphere would become breathable again, returning to the status quo.
"Mommy mommy!" The little boy screamed, running into the observation chamber. In his excitement, he almost tripped and fell, but his usually considerate robotic caregiver didn't even notice. Her eyes were still fixed on the slowly growing shadow.
After a few seconds, she snapped out of her fear-induced trance. It had seemed like every quartz transistor in her circuits had seized firing. For several moments every one of her millions of processes had stopped. She smiled down at the little biological boy and gently stroked his hair. She tried to dispel all panic from her features and be the emotional pillar they needed. She had to stay strong.
The child's skin was tinged red, a characteristic common for his race. He lifted one muscular arm to his face and removed the accessory he wore with clumsy slender fingers.
"Mommy is stopped working again," the boy said, holding out his quartz visor. She took it off him and inspected the indicators along the side. She took a breath of the clean air. The pure molecules of carbon dioxide, ammonia and methane supplied her internal engine with the fuel it needed to keep going.
"Don't worry Zelkath," she spoke softly and gently stroked his cheek. The robot's tone of voice was otherworldly but somehow managed to calm even the angriest souls. "It's just out of battery, that's all. Here, let's take it to the Energy Room and get it recharged shall we?"
She took the boy's hand in her own and left the Observation Room. On her way out her fingers glanced over a panel in the wall, sending it a signal with a quick zap of electricity. The room dramatically darkened in an instant as the glass ceiling fogged over and turned opaque.
The depressing calculations that cursed her processors returned, as she couldn't help but track how much energy they had left. The inventors had built the bunker to be self-sustaining, but they expected it to be necessary for a few million years, not several hundred million. Most of the machines were broken and beyond repair and soon they might be forced to leave the bunker and introduce themselves to the mammals on the surface face to face— if they were not discovered first. It was either that, or she could watch as her children slowly died of oxygen poisoning as they no longer had the power to maintain the artificial generators.
She had let the children remain in the Simulation Chamber, which certainly was not helping the power situation. She simply did not have the heart to force the children to face reality when the circumstances were this dire. Their bunker was in complete disrepair, it was a miracle that they were still airtight. Broken technology was strewn around the rooms; the machines that she did not have the appropriate knowledge libraries to know how to fix.
They made it to the Energy Room which was dominated by a huge crimson crystal floating in the centre. Every monitor in the room reminded her of the desperate power situation. She ignored them and hovered over to one of the charging ports, hoping that poor little Zelkath was not going to look too closely at any of the information displays. She pressed the visor close to the magnetic pad and fizzled in pleasure as she felt current flow through it and her body. In a matter of seconds, the visor was fully charged and she passed it back to the jubilant boy.
He grabbed it in both hands and slapped it back over his face, thanking his autonomous mother with glee and gave her a quick hug. He then ran off, back to the Simulation Chamber, and whichever fanciful universe he chose to load up. She was sure that regardless of which artificial reality he chose, they were all better places than this real one.
To her credit, Mother's calculations had been correct. The submarine spotted them almost exactly 2.15 hours later. The humans had discovered their secret bunker, and thanks to the natural curiosity that drove their species they were back in a matter of weeks to investigate.
The revelation that a hyper-intelligent, sentient race hibernated at the bottom of the Mariana Trench shook humanity. Unfortunately, all they found were the corpses of hundreds of strange humanoid creatures, for the explosions they used to force open the bunker brought with it a rush of water that destroyed the essential atmospheric generators.
The diver who found her was praised by every media outlet as a heroic pioneer. From the depths of the seafloor, he retrieved a curious automaton. The dead robot was uncanny, it looked a lot like a human woman. Her face was twisted and monstrous. Every one of her features were frozen in an expression of hatred and grief. Needless to say, she sold for billions.