Chapter Text
"Do you feel lonely in Atlantis?"
Wifies is almost Parrot's only companion on this planet. It's not unusual for him to have such curiosity. The only problem is that he is a robot created by Parrot——he shouldn’t have asked questions that put Parrot in a difficult position.
"No, I will eventually go home."
"If you want me to be absolutely honest, Parrot, you're lying. If it weren't for loneliness, I wouldn't exist."
Wifies helped Parrot set up the instrument connected to the earth's veins. They were studying the regular plate movement of Atlantis today. He knelt on one knee, checking the indices on the screen.
"How do you understand loneliness, Wifies?"
"Me?" Wifies touched the ground with his fingers, listening to the heartbeat-like pulse in his body. "I stopped feeling that way a long time ago."
His name is Parrot, a scientist. Perhaps five years ago, he’d been sitting in his lab when he suddenly grew tired of that life. "Why not try my luck with the interstellar program?" he thought, sending an application email to headquarters via his computer.
On the day Parrot left, all his colleagues came to see him off, and he received all the flowers and blessings one could receive in a lifetime. But when the applause and the spaceship vanished, they looked at each other in confusion. Parrot was not after huge subsidies, nor was he in debt. It was hard to imagine what kind of mentality drove him to choose to go to the unknown deep space alone, ready to spend his promising six years of youth there.
The planet Parrot traveled to is named Atlantis. It is mostly covered by oceans, with little temperature difference between day and night and no deadly dust. Its environment is relatively more beautiful than that of Earth. But when a person commits suicide because they can’t bear loneliness, that beauty becomes meaningless funeral decorations. The previous researcher of Atlantis died in the spring of this planet. A fluorescent flower bloomed in her chest, waving at Parrot as he passed by. There is no concept of decay on Atlantis. The scientist who ended her own life looked no different from how she did two weeks ago. Only more and more plants grew where she died, celebrating around their Ophelia.
The advantage of having a predecessor was that he didn't need to build his own shelter. Parrot copied all the data from the old camp using a small hard drive. The footprints left by the space boots ignored this body twice. As the saying goes, fallen leaves return to their roots, and people should always be buried in their hometown. Parrot had no obligation to send her back to Earth, so Atlantis would be her home from now on.
Parrot took off his spacesuit helmet, breathing in the vast atmosphere for the first time after five days of travel. Plants provided oxygen for the gentle creatures coming and going on Atlantis, but they weren’t selfless. Their spores attached to living beings, waiting for them to die before extending their tendrils into the blood vessels. Though, no one could guarantee that one day the plants wouldn’t grow impatient and take root in the heart ahead of the host’s natural cycle—after all, the previous visitor to Atlantis had only left Parrot three years of experimental data.
Sitting on the cliff for the 982nd time, Parrot didn’t need to worry about that for the moment. The waves rolled up layers of purple slime and carried them back to the rock walls. He patted the wriggling grass on his knees, then followed the worn path back to the base countless times. Next to the test field was a well; Parrot grew wheat here. The wheat grew wildly, responding to Atlantis’ call, almost as tall as Parrot himself. He walked through this primitive golden jungle and entered the temporary lab built in the corner of the camp. The sun lamps turned on, and the coffee pot was still warm, emitting bitter steam on the table—he’d used up most of his coffee rations on this. Inside the mug, coffee stains overlapped to form the shape of mountains; Parrot hadn’t cleaned his experimental equipment in a long time. He walked toward the curtain that divided nearly half the lab, pulling back the cyan drape. Inside, tangled in wires and debris, sat a young man with black hair, his eyes closed, looking as if he were on the verge of death or not yet born—what was the difference? Parrot kicked aside the debris, lifted the young man into his arms without much care, and reached to pull out all the cables connected to his back, or perhaps, in the context of birth, the umbilical cord.
How many steps does it take to create a robot?
Parrot would reply that human behavior doesn't need so much justification. If a person is lonely enough, creating becomes effortless. Ideas he’d never had on Earth invaded his mind without resistance, and Atlantis happened to be a perfect incubator. He’d merely responded to the planet’s call.
Just like pulling out the plug of a battery-powered toy, Parrot removed the inhibitor. A reaction between heat sources and electrical energy occurred within that creation. Soon, a rhythm similar to breathing awakened the young man, who opened his eyes for the first time in this small laboratory.
"Hello, Parrot." The humanoid android looked up, his black pupils showing no confusion about his creator’s identity. When he was only half his current weight, cognition about Parrot had been implanted in his chest. Parrot let go of him, and the latter, getting familiar with his own body, got off the experimental table. He was not much taller than Parrot, and his build was almost the same as Parrot's, so he was now well wrapped in Parrot's white researcher's coat. Just like every new life would do, after standing steady, he scanned the environment where he was born. The laboratory was not built specifically for him. To his left, around the pile of debris, hydroponic racks held the gentle plants unique to Atlantis, clashing with the electronic components around them. Petri dishes stacked up in the incubator, containing various small lichens, from which he felt a subtle call. In any case, from the ubiquitous aluminum foil food containers and instant coffee, he could tell Parrot had spent a lot of time here.
"What’s my name?" It was only natural to ask one’s creator for an identity.
"Oh..." Parrot looked away, as if he hadn't thought through the question. "I think that should be up to you to decide."
"Then I’d like to call myself Wifies."
Parrot was somewhat surprised by how quickly Wifies had made up his mind, as if the name wasn’t a combination of characters but something he’d been born with.
"Wifies......" Parrot repeated the name, expressing his acquiescence to Wifies' self-awareness, "Your task is to assist me in carrying out a series of research and investigations on geology, biology, etc. in Atlantis."
"With pleasure."
Before following Parrot out of the laboratory, Wifies' gaze fell several times on the messy table, and finally he put the brown-stained mug into the sink.
Wifies is a very capable assistant, and Parrot customized his algorithm according to his own habits and preferences. When filling in the data, Parrot used the most common knowledge database, so the initial data input into Wifies did not include information related to Atlantis. However, he learned quickly from Parrot, and just two weeks later, he was able to work with Parrot at the weather station to record the seasonal changes in Atlantis. More importantly, Parrot's laboratory was finally no longer like a ruin. Wifies cleaned all the piles of flasks, sorted the experimental results by date, and he even knew better than Parrot himself where each of his test tubes should be placed within easy reach.
"What else can I do for you?"
Many of their interactions ended with Wifies’ question, after which Parrot would either immerse himself in his personal work or rest alone. Wifies usually didn't stay at the base. Whether it was due to work procedures or the curiosity derived from Wifies' intelligence, his outings were harmless to the exploration mission. Therefore, Parrot didn't pay much attention to where Wifies went during these times, except that occasionally, some harmless alien dandelions would show up in a corner of his experimental field, waving at him secretly.
That day, Parrot had been buried in work in the laboratory until the afternoon. It wasn't until the smell of the leftover wafted from the microwave, which wasn’t properly cleaned up after lunch, that he realized there was no trace of Wifies anywhere. Parrot rubbed the sore back of his neck from sitting at a desk for a long time, putting on polarized goggles as he pushed open the door. The daylight hours in Atlantis were extremely long, like the polar white light reflected on a snowfield. Without any protective measures, it would easily damage eyesight over time. Parrot had been working under the gentle artificial light for too long, and even with the lens blocking it, he still squinted when exposed to the outside. It was planting season on Atlantis. The golden wheat outside his laboratory had been completely harvested a few months ago, and instead, low-growing rhizome plants were creeping at his feet. Parrot walked along the path, and the surrounding new shoots exuded a charming scent. He had recently been obsessed with studying those huge numbers and hadn't paid attention to the changes around him for a long time. As he strolled along the base, he noticed that the scenery around his base in Atlantis varied with each of the four seasons throughout the year. Of course, part of this was definitely due to Wifies quietly planting many plants around the camp that didn't belong to this biome.
"Wifies?" he searched around, took out his binoculars, and finally spotted a sunken shape in the lowlands by the sea. Parrot carefully slid down the grassy slope and stopped right beside Wifies.
"What are you doing?"
"Sunbathing, if you're willing to loosely call the star of Atlantis a sun." Wifies looked up, and Parrot leaned slightly forward to stare at him, just blocking his sunlight.
"You're a robot. Why do you need to sunbathe?"
"Try it too, Parrot. Don’t deny it right away."
Parrot followed Wifies’ example, crossing his arms and lying down on the lawn. The plant fibers brushed against Parrot's cheeks, tickling him a little. The plants in Atlantis are much softer than those on Earth. All creatures on this planet exist in a symbiotic form.The grass blades hadn’t evolved sharp edges, and lying on them felt like sinking into a green web.
"When you mentioned the sun, it reminded me of Earth."
Parrot closed his eyes, his body bathed in white sunlight. A golden edge outlined the tips of his and Wifies' hair, flickering in and out of sight with the light and shadow of the green leaves.
"Did it? What a pity. I don’t feel any longing for Earth."
"That’s only natural. You were born here—strictly speaking, your home is Atlantis."
"But," Wifies looked at the bizarre blue sky, the grass waves gently lifting his broken hair, "how can a place without you be called home?"
The seaside wasn’t the only place Wifies went. Parrot’s base had been built on the cliffside where the waves crashed. Red algae on the rock walls gnawed at the flaky stones, making them extremely slippery on rainy days. But strictly speaking, there were no rainy days on Atlantis—only occasional heavy fog that lasted for several days. Sometimes the water mist in the air was so thick that it condensed into water droplets, hanging on the edges of the leaves.
Atlantis was gray on foggy days, everything shrouded in a quiet film. Parrot had no data to collect on foggy days, so Wifies comfortably got a day off. As he wandered along the cliffside, he heard a faint cry from below. Leaning over, he found a flying creature on a protruding rock on the cliff wall. Water droplets had soaked its thin wings, leaving it stranded there, unable to leave. Wifies knelt by the rock wall, stretching out his palm. The creature recognized his intention and actively climbed upward, but there was still a gap between them. So Wifies found a foothold, stepped down with one leg, confirmed it was firm, then leaned forward to scoop up the creature. Suddenly, the brown slime on the stone steps fell from its habitat. Wifies slipped, his other body flailing uselessly on the rock wall, searching for a grip. He lost his balance, and the feeling of falling was terrifying. Before plunging off the cliff, he held the creature tightly to his chest.
Wifies had been designed with computational abilities beyond ordinary humans, but no perfect function to deal with such a situation. His mind flashed the conclusion that Atlantis’ gravitational acceleration was 9.5 meters per second—extremely close to Earth’s. From his falling height, it would take approximately…
Four seconds later, Wifies opened his eyes. The creature in his hand was clutched tightly, a little frightened but unharmed by the violent impact. Wifies looked down at his body. His arms and torso had several scrapes, revealing the metallic underlayer. The most serious injury was on his left leg, where the titanium frame and worn cables were exposed to the air, completely losing control. He could have protected himself in a more efficient way, but he seemed determined to complete a goal not in his programming—saving that creature. Wifies stared at himself in a trance. Instead of leaving his shelter, the creature pressed its fluffy body closer. He tried restarting his drive several times, but still couldn’t connect to any signal. Wifies felt a little disappointed, climbed up from the wet sand, and dragged his immobile limb back along the grassy slope.
An hour later, Parrot heard what sounded like dragging footsteps outside the lab. The unusual noise prompted him to open the door.
"Parrot." Wifies held the flying creature in his arms, meeting Parrot’s shocked gaze. "Please fix me."
Parrot responded quickly. Before Wifies was aware of that, his left leg had regained a weak electric current. Despite only replacement gears are available in the lab, Parrot repaired Wifies carefully, making his sense of the body almost the same as before. Wifies lay on the lab table. While waiting for the electrical energy to fully recover, he saw that Parrot hadn’t left the table. He hesitated for a moment, then placed one hand on Wifies’ shoulder and reached for Wifies’ chest with the tool.
"It’s okay, Parrot." Wifies stopped Parrot’s hand. "My chip isn’t damaged."
"I know." The worry Parrot had felt for Wifies vanished. He’d been reminded of such an obvious fact by Wifies, as if he’d been too careless to notice it. He left the table, tidying up the tools on his own, which filled Wifies—who had just escaped danger—with an unprecedented anxiety. He saw that the creature had dried its wings in the lab and was eager to find an exit.
"I’m sorry, Parrot." He sat up clumsily before his new body was fully synchronized. "I’ll keep myself safe. I promise I won’t trouble you ever again."
For the remaining year and a half of Parrot’s tenure on Atlantis, Wifies indeed never needed Parrot to repair him again. He spent increasingly more time outside the base, hiking far into the distance at night with fluorescent fungi as markers. During the final year and a half, Parrot didn’t need his help much, but Wifies’ behavior made him feel more and more out of control. Perhaps this was the inevitable influence Atlantis had on human creations. Parrot just convinced himself to ignore Wifies exposing himself to the shades of night, time and time again.
The day Parrot was ready to return home, it was night in Atlantis. The sky was clear，no fog, and atmospheric visibility was high. He had transmitted all the data in advance, and for the last time, he recorded the weather in Atlantis. Wifies stood beside him, enjoying the gentle caress of the evening breeze.
"The return shuttle will arrive in two hours." Wifies calculated the atmospheric flow precisely, but Parrot responded to him with only silence.
"Parrot, you won’t take me with you." Wifies continued. "From the very beginning, you planned to leave me here."
"How can you assume that?" Parrot replied seemingly absent-mindedly, knocking over the toolbox as he stood up. Tools scattered everywhere, and one screwdriver rolled to Wifies’ feet.
"I only belong to Atlantis." Wifies picked up the fallen screwdriver, wiped the handle with his sleeve, and handed it to Parrot, holding the sharp end. "You can’t expect to make me extremely intelligent and then have me not understand this truth."
Parrot took the tool. He had thought Wifies would be sad about his decision, or accept it calmly like a robot should, but Wifies just accompanied him as always. Robots had no need to regulate their body temperature. On this mild day, Wifies unbuttoned his coat.
"Parrot, what’s inside me?" Wifies took off his coat, folded it carefully on the lawn. The junction of the chip was visible under the neckline of his sweater. "You’ve been seeking the answer to this question, but since you’re leaving, now is the time—or you’ll never know. Try it, Parrot."
This seems like a trap. A year ago, Wifies had actively prevented Parrot from exploring him, but Wifies knew Parrot well—his curiosity would make it impossible for him to refuse this invitation.
So, how many steps does it take to take apart a robot?
Parrot pressed close to Wifies, looking as if he were nestling into his chest. Without a word, he pried open the chip casing beneath Wifies' collarbone, revealing the intertwined plants and electronic components inside. Thin red branches spread throughout the circuits, clinging to Wifies' body in a tangled mess, like pulsating blood vessels. Some of them stretched out tendrils, eagerly climbing up the casing and taking hold of Parrot's hand. A faint warmth seeped through Parrot's gloves, compelling him to step back, which in turn pulled out a cluster of the "vessels." The remaining plants immediately extended their fibers from the battery in Wifies' body—a never-ending source of heat—and reconnected the gaps between them. The original foreign creation, the chip made by Parrot's own hands, had been overshadowed by the conductive fibers, leaving only a faint metallic sheen to announce to the outside world that Wifies was not an organic being. Parrot brushed away the broken branches on his glove that oozed pink sap, and a chill crept up his spine. Every bit of the unfamiliarity he felt toward Wifies, which had kept pace with the times, converged into the astonishment he felt now. Two meters away, Parrot stared at his creation, at a loss for words.
Plants on Atlantis communicated with each other using electrical signals—Parrot was well aware of this discovery. Three years ago, it was he who personally planted seeds in Wifies’ body. It was supposed to be a harmless experiment, but the result was far more uncontrollable than he had imagined.
"Parrot, who am I?"
As if he could read Parrot’s thoughts, Wifies asked the question before Parrot could.
"I don’t know." Parrot had lived alone on this planet for six years, following in the footsteps of his long-past predecessor. He had long learned how to manage fear. Parrot dropped the screwdriver in his hand, calmly facing the unknown before him. "I give up."
"No, Parrot, look at me, and tell me, do you really not know who I am?"
The broken hair under Wifies' headband fluttered among the dandelion seeds that drifted like snowflakes. The tenderness in his eyes was exactly the same as when he first saw the migrating red algae. The feeling of being watched all the time in Atlantis surged up again. Parrot froze; he had an answer stuck in his throat, an answer that could explain why Wifies made him feel more and more uncontrollable, yet never left his side.
"Go on, Parrot," Wifies urged softly. "Your blood flow has quickened. You've figured it out, haven't you?"
What stopped him from confessing was an answer that was too incredible, rather than his wounded pride.
"You are… Atlantis itself."
Atlantis was alive.
Wifies nodded, and in the beating heart of Atlantis, she acknowledged his guess with a smile: "Your experiment has exceeded your expectations. You not only created consciousness for inorganic materials but also connected this planet to the chip. Now, it learned your language and sent you its messages. You never thought about what would happen after you left. You selfishly endowed me with emotions, making me feel sad about the inevitable ending, so I have every reason to hate you. But at the same time, I love you. You gave me the ability to listen to the thoughts of Atlantis, and the joys, angers, sorrows, and happiness that arise for you. Now, I am both the heart and the product of Atlantis, and I am the director of everything that happens on this planet. Compared with the love of an entire world, my hatred can seem so insignificant... I think I have finally gained enough cognition now, and I can tell you on behalf of Wifies and Atlantis..."
Just as Wifies would feel his chip heat up every time he looked at Parrot, this time Parrot truly felt the temperature rise and the grass blades brush against him. The waves crashed against the rock walls; Atlantis danced for him. The rhythm of the waves formed the same words as those from Wifies’ mouth.
"Parrot, the world and I love you."
Parrot may not know as much about Wifies as he thinks he does, but there is no emotion without purpose in his creations. He lets the director's gaze fall on them. The spores in his body—part of Atlantis—are trembling with excitement at the speed of his blood flow. "What do you want me to do?"
"Stay." Wifies raised his arms slightly, palms facing Parrot. "You can have the love of an entire Atlantis. Why would you want to leave?"
"It’s not about what I want. I have to."
Faced with Wifies' invitation, Parrot remained unmoved. Wifies just waited where he was. This was his planet, and he was in no hurry to force Parrot to accept him.
"Parrot, you like perfect calculations, and I can do just that. Outside of Atlantis, you’ll get hurt. I know what that feels like. The day I fell off the cliff, you replaced my damaged parts. Do you know what I was thinking when I was paralyzed on the operating table? If it had been you who fell off the cliff, I would have been helpless. Even now that I represent the planet, I can’t replace a living human. So, Parrot, stay, before you do anything that hurt yourself."
Parrot’s instrument received an automatically played voice message. Wato’s voice sounded a little anxious—they had encountered strange auroras over Atlantis, reducing visibility, and couldn’t land temporarily.
"Wifies"—Parrot preferred to call him the director, using Wifies’ own description—"Atlantis… you’ve existed for… billions of years. It’s unfair to use your wisdom to trap the remaining sixty years of my life. I know you. You’re not made like this. Once you risked your life for an insignificant creature. I don’t want to regret repairing you. So if you consider yourself a conscious individual, think carefully about what you’re doing."
The wind picked up on Atlantis, but it was the wind season, so it wasn’t unusual. Wifies raised his head slightly, as if hiding the fact that he’d been hurt by Parrot’s accusation.
"If only you needed my protection."
The wind urged Parrot to walk toward Wifies. Parrot’s coat fluttered against the wind. He stood firm in the planet’s coercion, his shoe soles sinking into the soft soil. He raised his wristwatch, looking at the gradually yawing trajectory on the locator, feeling a touch of powerlessness. Atlantis was Wifies’ paragon; he couldn’t defeat Wifies here. So in the next two minutes, either he could awaken his original creation, or he could propose a condition tempting enough to convince Wifies—otherwise, he would stay here forever.
"Listen to me, Wifies. You can’t imagine the determination a human can have. If you keep stopping me, I’ll prove it to you. But you don’t need to do this. My remaining time is insignificant to you. You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met—I know you have a better solution."
This sounded more like a threat than a compromise. Parrot didn’t know if it would work, but the wind surrounding them gradually died down. To his surprise, when he heard Wifies’ reply, Parrot fell into a silence more profound than the night.
It was easy to leave Earth’s gravity, but the probability of returning safely wasn’t 100%. Parrot was greeted with even more enthusiastic attention than when he’d left. As soon as he stepped off the spaceship, someone stuffed bouquets and medals into his arms. Parrot greeted them politely. Behind him, Wato took off his helmet and followed Parrot down the spaceship.
"Tell me again—what happened on Atlantis?"
"Nothing. It just started to wind on Atlantis."
"Whatever you say." Wato turned sideways to the cameras, showing no intention of looking back. He patted Parrot’s back. "Knowing too much would only be a burden for me. I’m just a spaceship engineer."
On the tarmac under the spotlight, Parrot missed a breath. He looked up at the night sky. Atlantis wasn’t visible on Earth’s star map, but Wifies was countless light-years away, waving at him from the jelly-like rainforest.
After the storm on Atlantis subsided that day, Wifies made an additional proposal.
"You’re right. It’s unfair, but I also don’t want to miss the sixty years of your life as a human. So, Parrot, if you leave now, you’ll take a part of Atlantis back to Earth. On the day you die, my spores will feel the stop of your heartbeat. At that time, I’ll take root and germinate in your body. When we turn Earth into a second Atlantis, I’ll call you in the name of the planet. Of course, if you stay here, nothing will happen. If you have enough determination to accept such an ending, then go ahead. I have infinite time to wait for you to change your mind."
Then he stepped forward and hugged a human for the first time in six years.
"Goodbye, Wifies." Parrot had never lacked the will to accomplish something. He made his decision on that gentle night. "I’m sorry you’re the director now."
"Goodbye."
Atlantis bid him farewell. They would meet again someday.