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The clouds part to reveal a beautiful view of dark, blocky buildings accented with green. They're tall. Grand. Makes her think of the skyscrapers back on Earth.
"What's your planet called?"
The ship's interior lights pulse with each syllable that Alan speaks, making up for the temporary lack of lights on his body. "Your vocal cords would not be able to replicate it."
"Humor me."
Alan pauses briefly, and then he says a short word in a language that is alien to her. She would not be able to describe how it sounded, but he was right when he said she wouldn't be able to say it herself.
"Cool," she says. "Our planet is called Earth. Although we haven't really been so kind with it, which is a shame."
"I can imagine it is difficult to balance the health of the planet with the health of the billions of people living on it."
"Yeah. You mentioned your population is only about ten thousand?"
Alan is quiet for a beat. "It is likely less now, if not merely one."
The lights inside the ship turn a dark blue, a color she's never seen before, but if she would hazard a guess, it means sadness. Interesting, since she thinks light blue means he's happy. Though she can't even be certain the different colors he cycles through signify what emotion he's feeling, if it signifies anything at all. Anyhow, Alan is quiet and morose, and she's unsure of what to say to him. He's obviously feeling guilt and grief, and with the latter she can relate, but their situations are still vastly different. She doesn't have any experience in being the sole reason behind a global pandemic that may very well have eradicated any chances of finding a cure for the same very deadly and very contagious disease. She doesn't know how it feels to have possibly wiped out an entire civilization by accident, that civilization being your very own.
Suddenly, her issues seem so trivial, so infinitesimal, in comparison. Losing a sister was … it is hard. Not a day has gone by without her thoughts eventually, at some inevitable point, circling back to memories of Sam. Sometimes almost an entire day can go by, action-packed with the focus on surviving, that she thinks she managed to stay away from those painful memories for more than twenty-four hours … and then she's back in the circle, thinking about it.
Losing a sister is hard. Losing an entire planet of people? Let's just say she dearly hopes, for his sake and for hers, that there are survivors. Even better, that they're thriving, and that the Kharaa pandemic is an unfortunate but bygone era.
She glances back at him. "Maybe they found a cure somewhere else."
A moment goes by without an answer from him, and she thinks there won't be one, but finally he says, "I have not been able to sense the network so far."
"Oh. That's … not good, right?"
"It does not bode well."
They fly for about ten more minutes before they start descending. Robin looks out of the front window as best she can, trying to find any hints of life. When they get closer to what looks like a landing pad, she thinks she can make out the figure of another Architect, but she's only able to confirm this when they're just short of landing.
"There are others, Alan, look!"
The lights turn light blue, but he doesn't respond. That's the happiness one, she thinks. She makes a mental note to ask him later what his colors mean, but for now, she's content with only guessing. Alan doesn't waste any time deconstructing the ship as soon as it's touched ground—or, well, levitated above it at an ideal distance. Of course, he tells her to disembark the ship before that, to which she is a bit skeptical—there's a possibility she sustained a concussion from the first time she used the levitator—but he ensures her he's reconfigured it for her lighter mass.
She touches ground and goes to stand a bit to the side so Alan can do his thingy with the ship that's kind of cool and really unfair. She catches sight of the other Architect standing a bit farther away, seemingly also waiting for Alan to do the thing. For having had an Architect in her brain the past few weeks, she sure as hell hasn't learned anything useful—like what the protocol for greeting one is. The way Alan greeted her was, she hopes, unconventional, and not standard.
She and the stranger make eye contact—can you call it that when they don't have eyes?—and there are so many ways she can go about this that she freezes and performs a displacement activity: she waves. She didn't have time to think it through, she just waved. The Architect continues to stare at her and she drops her hand, hoping she didn't just offend their entire species as she glances to where Alan should hopefully be done by now.
Alan only glances at her before blink-teleporting up to the other Architect, although a few paces away. Robin walks right up to them to ensure she's not getting left behind now that Alan has finally reunited with his kind.
The other Architect looks a bit different than Alan does. They're mostly very similar, but the stranger has … not quite hands like humans do, but more similar to that than to Alan's pincers. Their hands have two fingers and an opposable thumb each. All of the fingers taper into thick black claws at the end. They also possess four small horns instead of just the two large ones that Alan has. Other than that, they are pretty much identical from what she can see. Seems like they made some hardware upgrades in the span of a millennium.
Alan bows his tilted head minutely in what she believes is a courteous greeting. She follows his example and bows her own head to the stranger. Then they start speaking to Alan in what she believes is their language. She worries briefly that it has changed too much since Alan was cut off as he doesn't respond instantly, but he does eventually. Robin glances between the two conversing Architects, thinking she'll probably get the worst case of neck pain on this planet. Damn these three-meter creatures.
The two Architects start walking away in the middle of her thinking, so she adjusts her backpack and scrambles to catch up. The small mercy lies in their slow gait, and she comes to think of their blink-teleportation, wondering if they're only walking to accommodate her. She won't mention it, but she's grateful.
She taps Alan on his … shoulder? Hip? Thigh? She's not well-versed in the anatomy of an Architect, but she taps him to get his attention. He's very far up, so she doubts the effectiveness of whispering to him, but she does so nonetheless, hoping he has good hearing, and that the other one doesn't.
"What was that about? What's happening?" she says, only now realizing that they're speaking in English and that the other Architect probably wouldn't understand anyway.
"She asked me to identify myself. We are now following her."
Robin is about to ask why when Alan reads her mind.
"I do not know anything beyond that."
She wonders if he really can still read her mind. Did they not sever the connection back at the fabricator base? Or maybe it's just a testament to how well you get to know each other when you share a cerebral cortex.
They walk into a building that looks very much alike the ones she explored on 4546B, and again—neck pain. The stranger stops in front of an entrance, making eye contact with her and Alan as they pass by. She thought she would be sort of a really weird, interesting souvenir to the other Architects they would meet, or maybe a fun pet, like Alan had once mentioned, and she had sort of dreaded it, but now she's merely perplexed as the Architect has only briefly glanced at her in curiosity.
Alan walks to the middle of the room already occupied by four other Architects and she follows him blindly, not seeing much in the way of options. The female Architect comes to stand before them and starts grilling Alan with questions she doesn't understand. The others ask him some questions as well, and Robin is starting to think this amicable reunion isn't so amicable. Some of the questions he answers concisely, other ones he elaborates on. She gets the feeling it's an interrogation.
Alan turns to her and tells her they want to speak to her in private, so he will be waiting just outside. Robin can't do much else but agree to this, but how are they even going to …
"How did you encounter Alan?" she asks in plain English, surprising her. Alan must have airdropped her entire language to her—except the name he gave her, she supposes, seeing as the Architect said something unpronounceable to her that must be Alan's real name. A small wave of disappointment rolls through her when she realizes she will never be able to call him by it.
"Oh, I was … on planet 4546B when I heard a distress call, so I went to investigate it and I found Alan in, uh … a storage cube? I think the power was running out, because he needed to transfer to something else real quick, so I offered my PDA, but he jumped into my brain instead. So then I wasn't so pleased and he wanted a body of his own, so we made one for him, and now we're here."
The Architect analyzes her. Her lights are green, so she supposes that means she's thinking really hard or something. She really needs to ask Alan about a lot of things. "Planet 4546B—is that your designation for the aquatic planet on which Kharaa runs rampant?"
"The one and only, though Kharaa is no longer a thing there. It's gone." She doesn't mention the frozen leviathan, covered in slime green pustules.
"It has been cured?"
"Yes, a few years back."
The Architect—she really needs a name for her—assesses her again, but decides to take a different path in her questioning. "For what purpose were you on planet 4546B?"
"To find out why my sister died," she says reluctantly.
"What was your sister's reason for being on the planet?"
"She worked for Alterra, and that's where they stationed her. She was a roboticist and made robot pengwings to learn more about the wildlife." She doesn't mention Alterra's attempts to understand the Architect artifacts and their research of the only surviving sample of the Kharaa bacterium.
"You journeyed alone?"
"Well, if you exclude Alan, then yes."
"Very reckless behavior," she says, and it sounds completely neutral, but Robin swears she says it with suspicion.
"I love my sister, and I wasn't going to continue on like normal without knowing what happened to her."
"What is the reason behind your decision to follow Alan to our homeworld?"
"I …" Okay, she's probably pretty fucked here, because she does agree that choosing to leave her entire life behind for an alien she barely knows and a planet she's never been to looks mighty suspicious, but goddammit, they always told her she was crazy and this is why. Her impulse control is shit and she's working on it. Well, not really, but she's aware. "I had nothing keeping me anchored to my former life, and Alan … He's my friend."
The Architect watches her for a moment, and then Alan rejoins them in the center of the room.
"You will be escorted to a holding cell until the collective comes to a conclusion regarding your presence here."
When they get to the cell, Robin wastes no time throwing her backpack onto the floor and collapsing next to it. It's a shame Architects don't seem to ever sit or lie down or do anything remotely comfortable, which is evident in their lack of soft furnishings. But after all of that, the floor will work just fine.
"What did you talk about before you left the room?" she asks Alan.
Said Architect stands in a corner looking at nothing in particular. His body glows hot pink. She's seen that one before, but she's not sure what it means. "They asked me about the incident … and about you. I assume they questioned you as well?"
"Yeah, but it's probably just procedure. I mean, you were gone for a thousand years—they probably just want a status update. And then we have the fact that I'm here too, which probably only complicates things. But it'll probably be fine."
"Your imagined scenario is ideal."
"What do you think'll happen?"
He pauses. "I do not know."
Robin gets the feeling he's closing himself to her again, but she does not prod this time. Instead, she seeks to veer the conversation somewhere else. "Well, what about the network? You all reconnected now? Catching up with everyone in your brain?"
Alan is still glowing hot pink. "I have not been reconnected yet. There is only silence where the network should be."
"Oh. Why haven't you been?" she asks, but Robin should really learn when to shut up.
Alan looks at her this time and says, "May we change the subject, please, Robin? I find this topic uncomfortable."
"Um, y-yeah … sure. Sorry."
Robin studies her nails for no other reason than to not have to watch as Alan changes from that bright pink color to a duller blue. Robin can only really keep quiet for so long though, and soon she's racking her brain for something to say again. Something that won't upset Alan. Maybe even lift his spirits? But what to say …
She opens her mouth to tell him a story about Potato and the time he dropped a dead bird onto her while she was sleeping, thinking he was being a very good cat, but then she's interrupted by two Architects walking up to their holding cell. One of them opens it and says something to Alan, and Robin doesn't need to know Alien to know that it's time to move. She thought they would have stayed here for longer than what felt like thirty minutes, but she supposes Architects work fast. She picks up her backpack and follows Alan who is following the Architect that stood to the side. It could be the same one who first greeted them or it could be someone she's never even met—she can't tell them apart. She wouldn't even be able to tell Alan apart if it weren't for his horns and pincers. It seems all Architects carry the six robotic arms with them wherever they go, however.
They stop in the room they were in before being put in the holding cell. There's still five other Architects in total, so she assumes they're all the same ones as before. The one who lead them goes to stand in front of them and holds onto their own forearms as they turn their gaze to Alan.
"Alan, your arrogance and disobedience resulted in a very major setback in finding a cure for the Kharaa bacterium. It led to the mass extinction of our people of which the effects are still felt to this day. The collective has decided that, for your crime, you will be sentenced to deletion, and your vessel will be used to house a different mind."
That is alarming. Does it mean what she thinks it means? She looks between the two architects, wanting to butt in.
Alan only bows his head and says, "I understand." His color is hot pink yet again. Embarrassment?
Robin stares at him. What was that? No fight, no speaking up for himself? He'll just accept the death sentence with an I understand?
Robin doesn't understand.
The other Architect turns to her now. "Robin, for showing support and loyalty to one of our kind, you will be considered an ally. You may stay and join the collective. If you wish, you may transfer into the vessel beside you once it's vacated and integrate yourself into the network."
Robin is lost for words. The audacity to speak about Alan that way—as if his body is just a house to be moved into once his mind has been evicted. "Hold on, just … hold on a second. You sentenced Alan to deletion—death?"
"Yes. He has been ruled to be a danger to the collective and a great portion of the network is unwilling to forgive."
"No," she says. "No, listen … Alan told me once that you either work in the best interest of the collective, or you don't."
Alan reaches an arm out in front of Robin as if to physically stop her from saying more. "Robin, that is enough."
Robin barges on. She's never known when to stop before and she isn't going to start now. "Now, Alan made a big mistake. Huge, colossal mistake. Neither of us are denying that. But it was a mistake. He wasn't trying to purposefully sabotage the research mission. He was working in the best interest of the collective, trying to find a cure faster, so less people would have to die. I've shared a brain with Alan these past few weeks, and I can safely say that he knows he was wrong. He is repentant, and if my opinion counts for anything, I ask that you give him another chance. I promise he's learned since then."
With her peripheral vision, Robin sees Alan's hot pink glow of embarrassment at having his failures laid out like this in front of the court, but Robin doesn't care, as long as they hear her out and spare his life. And if they don't, well … there are plenty of planets in the cosmic sea.
The Architect is silent for a moment. Perhaps she is talking in her network. Finally, she looks at Alan. "Is it true, what Robin says? Do you acknowledge your mistake? Do you seek to improve on this flaw of yours?"
Alan is still bowed down. "Yes. I was wrong to disobey the directive from the network in pursuit of my own solution. It led to the escape of the bacterium and the fault lies solely with me. I have since re-evaluated the importance of a collective decision in contrast to my own, and a mistake of this caliber will never again be made." Alan looks up at this. "However, I understand if my deletion is necessary to ensure the safety of the collective."
Robin whispers his name in warning.
The other Architect comes to a new conclusion within the network and says, "Very well. Your previous sentence has been revoked in favor of a new one. You may stay as part of the collective, but your prestigious title as lead scientist will be rescinded and you may not reintegrate yourself into the network. If you do not agree to these terms, you may permanently leave the planet. What is your verdict?"
Alan keeps his head bowed as he says, "I agree to the terms and I am grateful for this mercy."
She turns to Robin. "As the vessel beside you will not be vacated, you may not make the transfer. However, if you wish, a new vessel will be fabricated for you. You may also wait until an individual is sentenced to deletion in order to make the transfer. What is your verdict?"
"I, uh … I'll keep my body, but, um … thanks for the offer." God, she's so relieved that worked. She was fully prepared to grab Alan and make a run for it.
"Very well. Alan, Robin—welcome to the collective. You will now be escorted to your new housing. Do you wish to be housed separately or together?"
Robin is taken aback and feeling just a bit flustered. She looks at Alan looking back at her and shrugs. She would like her private space, but she doesn't like how out of depth she feels here, and having Alan close to be her interpreter would be a big relief. "What do you think?" she asks him.
"I do not mind either arrangement."
Gah, such a frustrating response. Robin doesn't want to make this call. She makes it anyway and decides they'll be housed together. She can move out later if she wants to.
An Architect that's not one of the five in the room take them to a building that's theirs now, apparently, and she's left wondering how the housing market even works here. Though with less than ten thousand people she supposes there isn't a shortage of housing. Robin sets down her backpack and sets off to explore the house, giving Alan some time to brood in a corner.
Once Robin is sufficiently satisfied with getting to know her surroundings—and not being able to take the silence any longer—she walks up to him and is entertained by the fact that this is the first time she's seen him lie down—sit down? He's lying on his less humanoid stomach, but his more humanoid torso is upright. Alien centaurs—she's never gonna get them. "Hey," she says, nudging him. "How are you doing?"
She gets no answer.
"Getting the death sentence couldn't have felt good," she says, going for levity in her tone, but it doesn't go hand in hand with her words.
"No. It did not. But it was among the things I expected would happen when I returned."
"And you still returned?"
"Yes. I told you I wanted to make amends."
Okay. That's a bit darker than she was going for. "Well, um … But, hey, I got you out of it, huh? Part of the collective and all."
"Yes … but not the network."
Robin falters. "Oh … yeah. I'm sorry, I know you were looking forward to that."
"It is not your fault. I am grateful that you came to my defense, despite my initial skepticism. I would not have presently been here otherwise."
"I mean, sure, no prob. It's not like I would have let them kill my only friend." Robin wants his lights to turn bright blue, not to keep pulsing in that darker shade of it. "Do you want a hug … or maybe a joke? Or do you want to be left alone?"
"I do not know what a hug is, but … no jokes, please."
"Okay. Well, a hug is like a … Lemme just show you."
She puts her arms around Alan—and she only means to do it briefly, to show him what it is—but as Alan melts into her embrace, she can't do anything but stay like that. Eventually, he circles his arms around her too, and she can't help but smile ruefully. Figures the one sapient alien she finds has a case of the big sad.
"What is the purpose of a hug?" he asks, and she wonders if scientific queries are his way of distracting himself.
"It's to make you feel better. To remind you that you're not alone."
Alan's skin feels like warm leather, and she's hit by how surreal it feels to be hugging the alien entity that resided within her for what feels like a lifetime. It cements her reality, anchors it to the ground, ensuring her all of this isn't just a fever dream.
"Do you feel better?"
Robin watches as the lights turn from sad blue to cool pink. "Marginally, yes. Thank you, Robin."
"Of course."
She stands there with a big, sad alien in her arms, wondering how her life turned out like this and why she's not regretting coming here with him at all. When did a trespassing parasite in her head become her dearest friend?
"Hey, Alan?" she says, breaking the comfortable silence. "I'll be your network."
When she says it, she doesn't mean network like how they were connected prior to separation, but she finds that she doesn't think she'd mind it as much as she thought she would. She's gotten so used to his voice inside her head that it feels kind of empty without it. Maybe she'd even go so far as to say she misses it.
Alan's lights shift to a warmer pink, tinted with orange, and his arms hold her a little closer. "You are most kind, Robin."