Page 41 of Secrets of the Void
The opposite wall had seemed to be better than the others. There was still a lot of sand over there, but it had been pushed in that direction by the wind. If they could board up the other side, or just let the sand keep clogging that wall, she could move most of the sand and uncover the equipment they’d stored on the safer side.
"But Proteus, just know that if you're back, then that's because of our research. We won't stop looking for you. I know the others have created their own little world underneath the sea, but if history has taught me anything, it's that humans will stop at nothing to control what they do not deserve." The woman brushed her hair back from her face. "I wish I were there to help you, but we both know that would be walking in the same footsteps as the others. I will welcome my death. Even earn it, if you believe what others have said about me."
The hologram smiled at where Proteus was, and something ugly burned in her chest. Maybe it was the expression on the woman's face. Ellie wasn't all that sure. But there was a fondness there, a familiarity that made Ellie want to turn the hologram off.
He'd been trapped underneath the ocean for centuries, and no one had gone to find him. This woman, whoever she was, was claiming to be the person who had saved him. But how couldthey prove that? No one could ever know who had actually saved Proteus.
"She was one of the scientists who performed most of the experiments. She had a vision of creating a better world, not just for your kind, but for everyone." Proteus finally looked at Ellie. The uncomfortable expression was already gone from his face, and she had a feeling it was the other woman who had given him such ease.
Ellie should be better. She had no idea who this woman was, what she had done, or her relationship with Proteus. This jealousy was unlike her and must be in some way related to the feeling she’d experienced in the water.
Again, this was not her function. Not her job.
She swallowed her pride and said, "She must have been an impressive woman."
"She was. Then she died, and the world wept." His gaze turned in the direction of the rest of the hidden equipment. "I am ready to work whenever you are, Ellie. I am eager to discover what she left me."
An ache bloomed in her chest, but she turned her tired body toward the sand once more. Perhaps a little labor would do her good. Perhaps she could forget how horrible it had felt discovering someone else had known him first.
Seventeen
Proteus
Proteus watched Ellie working herself to the bone, and his soul recognized her need for reassurance. This was the only way she could get that. The harder she worked, the more worthy she felt of being awake. Ellie still felt so certain that she needed to earn her place beside him, even though he had tried to show her that it was unnecessary.
He knew her type. Some humans were so fearful that others did not want them, and so they were wiling to do as they were told. They worked until they fell apart, doing everything they could to prove to others their worth. And yet, their true value was in that worry.
He wanted to tell her that no one would ever question why she was with him. The amount of hard labor she had shown day in and day out proved how wondrous she was to have around. No matter what task he asked her to do, she would do it. No matter how tired she grew, she would push through. The cost to herself didn’t matter.
That was bravery. That was loyalty. It was all the features of a person he would never grow tired of, because he could see how much she cared. These were the traits of a woman dedicated to a cause.
And yet, apparently he had not shown her enough how much he appreciated her. She worked tirelessly until he had to tell her to stop.
Even then, Ellie didn't want to. She argued with him that they weren't done yet, and why should they stop when there was still sand to clear?
He did not know how to tell her that he worried for her health. She could tell him when she needed to stop. She could complain that her body hurt. None of that would change his opinion of her or lessen her value.
"Sit down," he grumbled, his voice deep and low. Perhaps a little of his anger showed as well in that statement, because the damned woman did not know when to stop moving. If he told her to sit, then she shouldn't argue with him.
Ellie glared, but her wobbling legs could not do more. Huffing out an angry breath of her own, she sat down on a pile of sand they had yet to clear. "I want to get this done, Proteus."
"And you will."
"Not if we keep stopping. I know I'm tired. I know I'm slowing down. But if we push just a bit longer, then we could finish this project and move onto the next."
Except they both knew that they couldn't. There was a lot more for them to do, and even more sand for them to shift. It was like it replicated itself, and no matter how much they got rid of, there was always more sand.
He had to give her a reason to stop.
Narrowing his gaze, Proteus looked over at Pilot, who had been working on one of the newer equipment pieces that had been revealed by the sand. It had survived where many pieceshad not. Pilot was currently working on bringing it back online, since the computer system within could help them learn what had happened here, and what other parts of this system needed to be turned online. Pilot suspected this terminal controlled all the others in the room.
"Pilot," he said, waiting for the droid to look at him before he continued. "Can you replicate yourself?"
"I have that function, yes."
He glanced over at a pile of scrap metal. They'd had to ask the droid to stop throwing parts into the water since it was getting in the way of the sand removal, and now he could see good use for them. "Use these pieces and make more of yourself. Give them the directive to move the sand so Ellie can rest."
There was a moment of obvious disbelief from the droid. Replicating himself would take time and effort, Proteus knew that, but there was also the realization that the intelligence that had been stored within that droid was going to be used to give a human relief from manual labor. The sheer rage would fuel Pilot for the next few years.
