Chapter Text
act one. - if statement.
i.i - asymmetry.
want of symmetry, defective correspondence between things or their parts, disproportion.
~ 𝞫 ~
Beta understood better than anyone that material reality was a complex network of actions and reactions, each minute piece of its mechanism functioning on some level using its own esoteric logic – a massive ecosystem of physical, chemical law. It did not operate on ‘vibes.’ A negative ‘gut feeling’ about a stranger was nothing but evolutionary programming meant to interpret possible threats from the social out-group. Statistical analysis of 21st century socio-economic distributions proved there was no eternal karmic pool from which the good were rewarded and the bad were punished. If a tree fell in the forest and there were no people around to hear it, the sound it made would still be experienced in some way by the insects that lived in its bark, the fractures formed in its wood, the impression its trunk would make on the soil upon impact. The truth could not be determined by human perception alone.
However, despite the current circumstances, imminent and treacherous as they were, she could not help herself from acknowledging that things ‘felt’ good. She supposed this was what people were talking about when they described optimism. It was certainly a foreign feeling for her, though not an unwelcome one. They had a strong team, some even stronger leads on what moves to take next, and if Aloy reacted the way Beta hoped she would at the latest update to their mission objectives, they could count themselves as having at least one small win. Barely a half-point on their scoreboard, but still something.
Her sister had called earlier that morning to let her know she should be back from the Memorial Grove soon. Though, it had been several hours since and Beta was beginning to wonder if she should follow up. Maybe just a quick chat message would suffice. Aloy could only fly so fast on the Sunwing without starting to drain its charge. Beta could be patient in the meantime. It wasn’t as though she didn’t have other tasks to complete today.
Her fingers paused briefly over the holo-display in front of her. Apart from the bright glow that spilled out at the edges of the interface, the room was otherwise completely dark. Recently, she had moved her few personal items to the last remaining bunk in the team’s shared quarters, keeping her dedicated workspace separate in the storage room where she used to sleep. It would have seemed a dour bedchamber for anyone else giving it a passing glance, but it was a vast improvement from her previous abode. While there was something about the hum of the servers that she found almost meditative, it was good to be up and about among the others’ rooms. Even when they sat empty, waiting for their occupants to return, it was a nice reminder that the Base had a breath of life in it.
One little check-up message won’t hurt, Beta concluded, tapping the BlinkChat app set aside in the corner of her projected HUD.
@ Aloy: ‘Haven’t heard from you in a while. Is everything alright?’
She read the words over a few times and frowned. Maybe that comes off too neurotic. Backspace.
@ Aloy: ‘Hey! Will you be home soon? Excited to see you!’
That sounds disproportionately enthusiastic. Backspace, backspace
@ Aloy: ‘ETA update?’
Way too curt, she thought. Unless…
@ Aloy: ‘ETA update? Making food soon and want to know if you’ll be here.’
It was the perfect excuse to reach a hand out. Not too hot, not too cold. This porridge was just right.
“Beta,” GAIA piped up suddenly from her Focus. “Aloy is currently approaching the Western entrance to the Main Hall.”
Never mind then. Backspace, backspace, backspace.
“Thank you, GAIA! I’ll be right there.” Beta waved her work away with a quick swipe and hopped up from her bed. She took a few minutes to flit around the halls and offices, turning lights on and tidying up any clutter she had left piled up.
Perhaps she also spent a moment longer than she would have liked checking her face in the small mirror Alva kept at her desk. While the sickly pallor had mostly left her by now – aided by designating mandatory time in her already packed schedule for at least an hour a day outside in direct sunlight, should weather permit – she still harboured dark circles under her eyes, betraying her substantial sleep debt in a deep bruise-blue. The medical texts she had studied were not exaggerating when they stressed the tangible effects fatigue held on the human body. Beta had already resigned herself to the long wait that would inevitably be suffered before they disappeared completely, if at all.
Her hair had also grown noticeably in the past couple of months, now hitting the small stretch of no man’s land between her ears and her jaw. Not yet long enough to pin back or style, but certainly long enough to misbehave. Every time she felt an unexpected brush at the back of her neck, it sent a chill down her spine, until she quickly remembered what was happening. It would have been the smart, utilitarian solution to trim it again. Arguably, it was a massive distraction compared to the length she had maintained for her entire life previous to this. But Beta found herself more than willing to handle a bit of short-term discomfort for the long-term reward of doing something just because she could. Never waking up again to find something inexplicably gone or changed, with no one to question or hold accountable for taking what wasn’t theirs to begin with.
With no busywork left, Beta considered if she should wait on the sofa in the Main Hall. She could lean back, maintain an air of nonchalance, and her sister would walk in to find her expertly operating the Base by herself, calm and collected. But then she heard the muffled sound of the exterior doors and her feet were carrying her down the hallway as though on auto-pilot.
Aloy was still flicking the snow off her shoulders when Beta collided with her.
“You’re back!”
Her embrace was returned with a polite squeeze before being gently guided apart. This was fine for Beta, practically understood as customary at this point. She knew Aloy was not a touchy-feely person and she was grateful that her sister was willing to humour any physical contact for her sake.
“Sorry that it took a while.” Aloy set the larger of her two bags on one of the storage shelves. It was probably filled with Blaze or Metalbite or some other substance that everyone other than Beta felt incredibly comfortable leaving out in the open. But she wasn’t handling these things as regularly as them, so what did she know?
“A Behemoth got a little too close to Scalding Spear, so I had to deal with that first.”
Beta raised her eyebrows at that. She had memorized the region’s mechanical ecosystem, hoping to be of help remotely if she couldn’t physically take on missions out in the field like the rest of them. There were plenty of potential threats in that territory: several Charger herds, flocks of Sunwings, even a Slitherfang nest and the occasional Thunderjaw. But no Behemoths. Not that far North.
“I didn’t think there were supposed to be any of those near Scalding Spear.”
“There aren’t. Let’s hope that it was some freak occurrence and not HEPHAESTUS testing its limits.”
They moved further into the Base toward Aloy’s room and Beta helped her sister unpack.
“Did things go well at the Grove at least?” Beta asked. She committed herself to folding and sorting whatever item of clothing Aloy threw her way. The two of them had done this routine enough times to streamline the process down to under an hour, despite her sister’s admitted tendency to hoard whatever lost bits and bobs she found while on the road.
Aloy sighed, picking at what appeared to be adhesive residue stuck to one of her wrist guards. “Mostly. Out of all our allies, the Tenakth are being the most cooperative.” Her patience for the task depleted quickly and Beta watched as she ripped it off her arm, throwing it aside. She made a mental note to grab it later and find a solvent that could clean it without damaging it further.
“Erend says Avad wants to help,” Aloy continued, “but he still has to contend with the rest of the Carja noblemen, half of which hold major military roles. Makes it hard for him to actually do anything.”
She sat down at the edge of the desk and rubbed her eyes. Though nowhere near as dramatic as Beta’s, Aloy had earned some dark circles of her own since leaving to speak with the Tenakth leadership. After dealing with Londra, it had been a lot easier to convince her to pace herself and let the rest of the team shoulder some of the responsibility for keeping the tribes afloat. However, this past month had proved more hectic than planned, political gears that had been at a standstill suddenly grinding without stop, necessitating they move swiftly to seize the opportunity.
The Grove had finally been rebuilt enough to hold formal council and Chief Hekarro invited Aloy personally to discuss the needs of her mission. It sounded like he was willing to give them a blank cheque, so to speak. But only if they offered a full explanation of what his people were going up against.
With this new ‘optimism’ she felt still coursing through her, Beta figured it was better to focus on the bright side of all this.
“Well, I guess that’s one advantage we have being in the Clan Lands. Chief Hekarro might not be a tyrant but he is still technically a dictator. If he says something goes, it sounds like the rest of the Tenakth tend to fall in line. Which is morally dubious in most contexts, but very convenient in our exact situation. Especially because he seems to like us.”
Aloy laughed and Beta felt a wave of relief.
“Yeah, it would probably be a different story if I’d actually gone through with fighting him to get to AETHER. As it is now, he’s calling for a proper Clan Summit in about three months. That gives the Marshals plenty of time to gather everyone and Kotallo will be back from Meridian by that point too.”
If Beta had responded honestly to this, she would have said something akin to ‘Hopefully, we will also have more tangible solutions to the problems we’ll be dropping into their laps.’ But she was being optimistic right now, so she did not say this. Instead, she smiled and said:
“I think everything is going to work out!”
After unpacking, Beta let Aloy take a few minutes to check her messages and assess the condition of her weapons. When she emerged from her room again, she took a moment to survey the repair lab, a certain ally of theirs unsurprisingly absent.
“Let me guess, Sylens left to go look into something?” Aloy asked, though she clearly already knew the answer.
“Yes, he did.”
“And he didn’t tell you where he was going.”
“No.”
“Or what he was doing.”
“No.”
“And he isn’t answering any calls.”
Beta shook her head.
“So, business as usual then,” Aloy replied, rolling her eyes. “You had something important to show me?”
In the rush to get her sister settled, Beta had almost forgotten why she was so excited to see her in the first place. Maybe showing Aloy the progress she’d made would even cheer her up a bit.
“I did! If you would please follow me into my office.” She gave a grand gesture toward the stairs, leading them down to the basement.
As much as Beta had grown over the years to despise the stark, endless white of her former VR training space, adjusting to the limitations of Focus-based AR had admittedly felt like trying to carve the Pietà with a spoon. Repurposing a few of the damaged and forgotten holo-projectors around the Base had been the first step to making things work for her and her research needs. Add in a couple of tactile interface controllers and she had a complete multi-head display build that allowed her to task switch to her heart’s content. Her makeshift cot still lay in the corner by the vents and she did sleep there occasionally on her busiest nights. The ones when she would find herself entering a near perfect flow state that she didn’t dare interrupt, lest she miss some vital piece of magic data that could potentially fix all of their problems. But, lately, those seemed to be fewer and farther between.
Beta plunked herself down in her chair and activated her entire set up with a single key press. Behind her, Aloy stood with her arms crossed, observing.
“Good news and good news only.” Let’s not oversell before we know we can deliver, Beta. “Or, at least, good and neutral news. No bad news.”
“Wish I could hear that more often,” Aloy huffed.
“Things are still slow-going concerning Shĕn’s dev logs, but I have managed to narrow down which sections of the encrypted data I should continue searching. What I’m really excited about is the breakthrough we’ve made with APOLLO’s archival functions. Last time, I showed you the issues that we were having with the user interface. That’s been handled, so there are rarely any error messages or loading failures to worry about anymore, at least for basic search interactions. The remote network is up and running, though GAIA will need to approve access on her end before any of us can use it in the field.”
Beta picked up a jar at the back of her desk. Inside was a small handful of spare Focuses.
“Sylens noted that some of our extra Focuses are a little suspect. I took a look myself and we have approximately three that appear to be counterfeits. They’re perfectly functional for things like sensory enhancement and AR interactions, but we’ll want to avoid them for any high-security communication. And they are significantly more delicate.”
Aloy motioned for the jar and Beta handed it to her. Taking a moment to inspect the counterfeits herself, she nodded in recall before setting it down again.
“That would explain how Erend managed to break one when he first used it. I’ve fallen off cliffs before and been fine, but his crushed between his fingers.”
“Then we should keep an eye out for those as we come across them. Lastly, there’s the state of the archive itself. Far Zenith, of course, made a huge mess of everything and now we’re stuck cleaning it up.”
She had no idea why anyone would ever go so far as committing corporate espionage to gain access to humanity's greatest repository of knowledge only to then turn it into a digital garbage fire, but here she was dealing with the consequences of exactly that.
GAIA insisted on handling the security modifications herself, allowing Beta to begin sorting through the actual contents of APOLLO as soon as possible. The first step was to wipe the archive of all the junk algorithms and AI assistants that had been left to rot by the Zeniths after a few hundred years. The subfunction had been little more than a glorified streaming platform if it was used at all, most choosing to drown themselves in the addictive simulacrum of virtual reality instead. Then, once the clutter had been swept away, it was immediately clear there were things missing. Or at least not where they were supposed to be. After discovering a lost cache of reports concerning private jet fuel emissions hidden in amongst a comparative catalogue of Victorian flower language, Beta realized this would likely be the case with any small piece of factual information that did not already suit the Zeniths’ particular world views.
“Luckily, APOLLO was designed with failsafes in mind for situations like this. The only reason Faro was able to wipe the original GAIA’s version completely was because Omega clearance acts more like a Trojan virus than a security check. We’ve been describing it as a higher level of authority to Alpha, but if we’re being entirely accurate, it really just bypassed the clearance system entirely.” Beta could hear herself actively derailing. None of this was relevant and Aloy likely wasn’t interested in hearing her pedantics. Sometimes, it was easy to forget that most of her friends didn’t spend hours stressing over minor logistical details. Get to the point already. “All that said,” she pivoted, “it means that the Zeniths were editing or disabling information, not erasing it. So, with enough work, all of it should be able to be repaired.”
She could see some of the strain leave Aloy’s shoulders, though her face remained reserved. “That’s reassuring,” she noted. Alright then, Beta thought. One last big chance to impress her literally at all.
“Now, the good news.”
“That wasn’t the good news?”
“Not all of it. While the information database and wider academic resources are still being cleaned, the vast majority of APOLLO’s mainstream popular media was left either entirely untouched or easily searchable by file name and subtags. You can tell when things were hidden with intention. And spite. I spent a few hours working on an algorithm to go through and revert any misplaced files back to their original positions and as of this morning, around eighty-seven percent of the collection is fully accessible.” Beta couldn't keep herself from smiling. The prospect of all the potential information they already had access to was too exciting to suppress. “Books, movies, music, all of it. We should have fidelity restored to one-hundred percent by the end of next week.”
She watched Aloy soak in her words. At once, her whole body loosened, like she was finally letting out a long held breath. The smile she gave was small, but it still met her eyes, so Beta knew she’d done what she set out to accomplish.
“Beta, this is fantastic,” Aloy exclaimed. “This is a win.”
“Totally a win!” Beta was sure if she could have seen herself in that moment, she would have been glowing.
“A small win.”
“Minuscule.”
“But still.” Aloy leaned down to give Beta another short hug. “Definitely a win.”
It was nice to see the fruits of her labour have a tangible impact. When the rest of the team brought their work to the table, often there was some kind of trophy to go along with it. A vital machine part, a royal decree or favour, a whole other person joining the crew. The most she could do was point and say ‘fetch’ if she found anything useful in the datapoints they’d collected. Lines of code may as well have been hieroglyphics to the rest of them. Well, all except one.
“Sylens called it a ‘negligible victory’ before he left,” Beta remembered. “I very briefly considered telling him that I disagreed but then I didn’t because I was too scared. But I did think about it.”
That earned her a grimace and a pat on the shoulder. “It’s a step in the right direction,” Aloy conceded. “We should tell the rest of the team.”
Whatever grand sweeping film score that had been playing in Beta’s head following her moment of triumph stopped abruptly. Oh. Right.
“... I actually already messaged them about it,” she admitted. “I just knew that you were coming back and uh, really wanted to tell you in person.”
“So, I’m the last to know?” Aloy looked both annoyed and amused at the same time. Beta thought better than to give her enough room to pick between the two.
“Yep! They all seem excited about it, by the way. I’ve even received a couple of requests.”
She swiveled back to her collection of projectors, taking advantage of the multiple displays to begin showing off all the newly refurbished sub-catalogues they could now explore.
“Erend wanted to know what kind of visual media there was now and he got very loud when I told him the actual number of holo-vids we have available. I ended up sending him a couple of episodes of this show where people tested the authenticity of common myths. It’s educational, but they also blow stuff up a lot, so I thought he’d get a kick out of it. Zo wanted any music at all, so I linked her to the archive audio player and told her to message me if she found any specific genres she wanted to know more about. I think she’s currently looking at the jazz library.”
Beta thought it better not to mention her own personal perusal of the network. Obviously, the first thing she had thought to look at was a certain slice-of-life family drama that she had been missing desperately. Any time she had tried to mention Second Time Around to Aloy, however, she saw the panic rise in her sister’s eyes and they would suddenly be locked in a torture cycle of their own making. One where Aloy was forced to listen, near bored to death but too polite to interrupt, while she was forced to keep talking, fully comprehending how uninterested the other party was in the information she was spouting but somehow completely unable to stop herself from continuing. Best to just avoid it entirely.
Prior to restoring the media archive, Beta had indulged in the occasional rewatch of her favourite episodes where she could locate them. Now, though, she was limited to only one per day. She knew if she allowed any more than that, she would become so hyperfixated that she wouldn't be able to focus on anything else until she had completely finished the series. At one hundred and twenty-six episodes, seven seasons, and over forty-eight hours of runtime, there was no way she could justify that kind of distraction. Still, she was more than happy to let the others experience their own media adventure. This would be the first time they had ever been exposed to any collection of this size, the world’s largest library ever conceived directly at their fingertips.
Just then, she remembered the final request she had been sent.
“One more thing. Uh, Kotallo wanted… books. Like… fiction novels.”
“Really? Why?” Aloy furrowed her brows, as puzzled as Beta had been upon receiving the original reply.
“Yeah, I wasn’t sure what to do at first considering his reading experience, or lack thereof, but he apparently found some print books around the Base and he’s been enjoying those.” Where he had managed to find said books, Beta had absolutely no idea. They should have been a thousand years old and practically turning to dust. She could have messaged back for more details but the thought of asking him a direct question made her palms sweat, so she decided the universe simply did not want her to know. “I’m probably going to send him titles that used to be considered classics, some more advanced than others. That way, he can go at his own pace.”
There was still one thing Beta was curious about that Aloy could have possibly shed a light on.
“Was he fully illiterate before?” she asked, turning around to face her sister once more.
Aloy thought for a moment. “Fashav might have shown him some Carja glyphs? The Tenakth don’t have written language. Their tattoos have specific meanings but you’d have to ask a Chaplain what they are because I certainly don’t know.”
“So, only pictographic records and oral storytelling?”
Aloy shrugged. “I think.”
Visual and verbal record keeping certainly required dedication and skill to master, but they were still different skills to those required for written language. Especially if you were not of a culture that surrounded people in it from a young age. Even in Old World America, where the constant presence of commercial media and advertising made reading and writing completely unavoidable, it was common for adult learners to struggle greatly to catch up to their peers. Things like limited brain plasticity and social pressures could often cause roadblocks that made them give up on the endeavour entirely. There were only two common factors that correlated strongly with success: consistency and interest. The Tenakth Marshal appeared to have plenty of both.
“Well, he has an impressive reading level for someone who literally just started,” Beta acknowledged.
“Did he maybe mention anything about what was in those books? Did they contain battle strategies or something? GAIA mentioned before that he was studying Old World war tactics in his free time.”
“Not that he told me. Maybe… he likes reading recreationally?”
Aloy still seemed skeptical but quickly moved on. “Well, I’m surprised Alva hasn’t responded yet.”
“Oh, she did. I was getting to that,” Beta laughed. In fact, Alva had been the first of them to respond, using many exclamation marks to signal her temperate apathy at the situation. “She messaged me to say that she’s looking forward to coming back and seeing everything in person as soon as she’s done her current expedition.”
“She’ll probably want to be around for the Summit too,” Aloy said, smiling fondly. “Last time we talked, she seemed disappointed that she hadn’t had the chance to immerse herself in Tenakth culture yet.”
Alva was the teammate that Beta had probably bonded with the most on a personal basis since the post-Zenith split. At first, she thought that Alva was just trying to keep her informed of her findings for mission purposes. Not every bit of data had been relevant but Beta figured it was a good habit to keep regardless. Quickly, however, she began sending more casual things like funny Old World advertisements she saw or whispered voice notes gossiping about the relationship drama of two fellow expedition members. One particularly silly long-distance image of a Burrower that she had put a holo-filtre on to give it a cartoon moustache. Beta figured it wouldn’t hurt to start sending things back. She didn’t have ‘news,’ per say, but she could complain about the poor quality of some of the programmer’s notes she came across and relay some of the absolutely ridiculous premises of 2030s reality television shows. They called more frequently as well, something Beta was really beginning to look forward to.
Eventually, Alva had come back to the Base to visit and managed at least once to convince Beta to take a real break during her stay. They read through some terrible tabloid articles that Alva had stumbled across while exploring the remains of Silicon Valley and Beta attempted to make something other than fry bread for the first time. The results of the food had been dubious, but they had quite a laugh about the Real Housewives of Las Vegas and a scandal concerning a popular holo-net influencer lying about being related to the British royal family. Now, more often than not, their conversations had very little to do with work. Alva even told her she had a surprise for her the next time they could spend time together.
Beta had noticed that the others liked giving her things. There was a part of her that was suspicious of it, hyper-aware of their likely perception of her as ‘deprived.’ Still, she couldn’t ignore the sincere gratitude she felt upon receiving these gifts, the novelty of having any opportunity to receive them at all not yet worn off. And, if she thought about it longer, she could rationalize that this was just what friends were supposed to do for each other. In time, she’d be able to do the same for them.
Zo had brought her a small collection of wildflower samples, many she could recognize were originally native to Utah before the Plague. They took some time to learn about flower pressing from what parts of APOLLO they already had access to and gave it their best attempt with the resources they had. Right now, the samples sat flattened under a large chest full of spare crafting materials, tucked between two long sheets of Carja parchment. Beta was excited to see the results once the right amount of weeks had passed.
Their friendly neighbourhood Vanguard Captain had also promised to pick up a Machine Strike board for her in Chainscrape so that she could study it. Everything she had noted from briefly watching him and Alva play made it seem like a very convoluted version of chess, but where every piece had the stats of an Old World trading card game. She would have to make an effort not to optimize the fun out of it too quickly, though. Ideally, she could test her strategies out on him, if he was willing and had the time.
“Is Erend staying long when he gets here?” Beta asked. They were expecting him to be back West that week. He hadn’t bothered to call much since passing through Meridian, likely because it often slipped his mind even when the team wasn’t suddenly at their busiest. But Aloy made sure to message him every few days for his current location, just in case he ran into anything he couldn’t handle on his own.
“No,” Aloy sighed. “He said he has to get back to Hidden Ember to keep organizing.”
Beta deflated a bit. “Sounds like it’s going to be a while before we can get the whole group together again.”
“Probably not for a few months. And even then, Zo’s going to be close to giving birth, so we might have to start meeting closer to Plainsong.”
“You’re right. She probably won’t want to be travelling by that point.” Beta brought up her calendar to confirm their timeline. Any time she noticed a tentative date or time relevant to their mission, she tried to write it down in case they’d need it. “Looks like we can expect a spring birth closer to May, if Zo’s assessment of her due date is correct. But it could be anywhere from April to July, depending how many weeks along she actually is. We don’t currently have the resources available for me to fully confirm.”
Beta looked back at Aloy to find the guarded stoicism she had just cut through returned to her sister’s face.
“... Maybe I should check in on her soon and see how she’s doing for myself,” Aloy said, after a moment.
It felt deeply wrong to label an entire tribe as a non-priority. Their mission was to help everyone, not just those with the strongest armies or the largest borders. But as it stood now, trying to scrounge up as many resources as possible before the Big Terrible Awful Thing arrived, there wasn’t much for the Utaru to do but wait. Restoring the Land Gods had secured their loyalty, and Zo had been doing a great job of scouring Plainsong’s territory for any useful Old World communication technologies they may have overlooked. Potentially, the Utaru’s most vital contribution would be to feed people, but the Chorus wasn’t yet willing to commit to building additional food storage without confirmation of how much they would need.
As a result, none of them had been able to get out to see Zo nearly as much as they would have liked. Aloy most of all.
“I’m sure she’d like that,” Beta assured.
The quiet tension that had been building was cut suddenly by a growl. Both their eyes went wide and Aloy glanced down at her own stomach.
Beta felt a giggle starting to creep over her. She tried to stifle it, but Aloy looked so startled when she peeked back at her that she couldn’t keep it down. Aloy broke soon after and their laughter rang out against the metal walls and crates surrounding them.
“Well, I’ve apparently gone long enough without eating,” said Aloy, gathering herself again. “I’ll let you know when food is ready.”
Admittedly, food sounded like a fantastic idea to Beta. But she thought more about all the things lingering on her to-do list – the keywords that needed sorting, the last bits of problem code floating around the UI, the still yet-to-be-discovered-even-just-a-little-bit development logs – and she surrendered to the slog would likely take up the whole rest of her evening.
“Uh, would you be able to bring it here for me?”
Aloy paused and gave her a look that Beta couldn’t quite place. Her eyes narrowed, focus nocked like an arrow directly at her, waiting to make the perfect headshot. If Beta hadn’t trusted her sister completely, she would have been terrified.
“GAIA, how long has she been working?” Aloy asked into the air.
The answer was immediate. “Over the past three days, Beta has accumulated over fifty hours of work time.”
Aloy’s jaw dropped and Beta’s almost did too. That can’t be right, can it? she wondered. It felt as though she had barely accomplished anything that amount of time, if it was true. Her efforts on the media archive had started over a week ago, and since then, the algorithm had been doing all the hard work for her. I should have finished more than this.
“Thank you, GAIA. I think I can do the math on how much she’s spent eating and sleeping.”
“All suggestions to set aside time for rest have been politely acknowledged and subsequently ignored,” GAIA added.
Snitch, Beta thought, though not too bitterly. She honestly hadn’t been intentionally dismissing GAIA’s concerns. She would always tell herself that she would take a nap or drink some water after she finished one more little task and then she’d find a brand new hole of information to fall down, thinking about how terrible it would be to let the White Rabbit get away. With nothing to show for it, apparently.
Aloy grabbed the back of her chair and pulled, dragging Beta away from her desk and towards the door.
“Alright, basement girl. You’re coming with me.”
“But I haven’t even started looking for the dev logs yet today!”
“Too late! We’re already moving! You’re going to have to get up soon because I am not carrying you up these stairs.”