I made my preparations for an excursion into the engineering sector where Dubai found me.

  That was difficult. I owned nothing. The parts I was equipped with were less than ideal for exploration and combat. That meant I would need to stick close to working charging stations, avoid dark zones, and keep out of sight of raiders. These were all things I was used to from my work with Parma and Sheffield, but Sheffield was also a morbid example of what happened when it went wrong.

  Even before the humans left the Big Under it could be a treacherous place with many working hazards. It was filled with heavy industrial machinery, experimental projects, and precarious walkways that crossed over fatal gaps or rushing flows of water. This was even more so an issue with the facility enduring decay since that time.

  Added on top of those risks was its size. For a human, walking across the entire length and breadth of the facility was an impossible endeavour. It was one of the largest man-made structures to ever be constructed, at least by the time I was left offline in one of the engineering rooms. It was so vast that some areas were occupied entirely by robots, who managed all of the work and maintained the darkest corners of the facility without human contact.

  There was a network of high-speed tram lines that allowed humans to get from one edge of the facility to the other. Some were designed for transportation, whilst others were reserved for cargo and relocating robots like myself. Again – these old conveniences were no longer operational. It would have been possible to cross the entire facility within an hour or so if they were still working, and that was why they were the first thing to be vandalized when the workers broke up into warring factions.

  I stared down the belly of the beast and hesitated. The long, empty tube led to the engineering sector where I had worked with Oxford for years before the evacuation. It was so long that the light from the city quickly died away and plunged into sheer blackness. I would have appreciated a pair of eyes like Sheffield’s, but a torch strapped to the side of my helmet would have to do. I carefully gauged the amount of power it drew from my batteries and coordinated it with my navigational data.

  It was tight. I would make it to the charging station with twenty minutes of energy to spare, assuming there were no distractions along the way. The sound of a radio could be heard from on top of the exterior wall, where a robot was normally stationed to keep an eye on the bots coming and going. It was a rusted old thing made from sheet metal and pieces of spare wood. I could just see the edge of a parasol peering out over the edge.

  >> Berlin will likely advise London against this course of action.

  That’s why I was staying out of Berlin’s way. If I was expected to do my part for Waterway in exchange for the power and room, then I was going to do my utmost to ensure that I was working as efficiently as possible. This new battery that one of the residents was offering as a reward for finding plush animals was a good start, from where every future upgrade would jump off from. I had a container to bring my finds back with and the knowledge to execute my plan. The only thing left to do was take the first step.

  “You gonna’ dilly dally there all day?”

  And try to get past the watchman without being harassed.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “No. Just saying going out alone isn’t for the faint hearted, or the bots with all of their screws in tight. If you’re hesitating here – then you’re probably not built from the right stuff.”

  “Isn’t your duty to convince the residents to remain here?”

  The watchman laughed at my question; “No, my job is to make sure raiders aren’t coming down the tubes. Anything else is busywork. Bots can come and go as they please. I’ve memorized all of their faces and names. You’re… the new guy; London Wonder?”

  I nodded.

  “Haha! Still got it!” he cheered, “Point is, the bots would kick up a serious fuss if only certain ones were allowed out in their own time to scavenge for parts. Dubai always gives them a stern talking to about how dangerous it is, but he’s not chaining any of them to this city if they don’t want it.”

  “I will fulfil this request.”

  The watchman shrugged, “Then go right ahead. Good luck!”

  >> You can’t go back after saying that. Think of how embarrassing it’ll be.

  >> A robot cannot feel shame.

  I ignored the argument playing out in my head and took the dive into the deep end. I trudged through the pipe and walked for several minutes until the song playing on the Watchman’s radio died out into a low rumble in the distance. My only source of light was the low-powered torch that came integrated with my helmet. Any illumination it provided was scant comfort versus the suffocating darkness that encroached on me from all sides.

  My destination was the engineering sector attached to the nearby substation. Once a well-trodden area, the damage to the facility meant that even this obvious place was almost two hours away on foot. There was a single working charging station at the tail end of that first leg. And what a tedious first leg it was. Nothing but cast-concrete tunnels that once acted as overflow storage for the water sanitation facility. An endless path that did not distinguish itself with any identifying features.

  Walks like this used to not bother me – but now they did. I was left alone with my thoughts, the sounds of my joints creaking, the soft whir of my motors in motion, the dull hum of the battery discharging, and the occasional splash of water from a puddle of leaking water. My thoughts were the worst of the lot. I didn’t understand what my own brain was saying sometimes. If this was supposed to be liberation, then perhaps remaining a servant was preferable.

  I felt what could only be described as ‘relief’ when I found the end of the tunnel. These places were never designed to be used as pathways, so the only way in and out were the bulkheads that allowed emergency access in case repairs were needed. They were inaccessible for the time being. Instead the pipe entered into another large rotund chamber, with a metal walkway placed just beneath the edge. The metal was rusted due to the flow of water that trickled down, a design oversight that had never been corrected during construction.

  I checked the integrity of the grated floor before continuing and putting my whole weight onto it. From there it was a long descent using a flight of stairs that circled the storage chamber. Eventually it was possible to reach a ring which pushed out into the middle and formed a dense concrete pathway with doors that still worked. Even from this height a fall to the bottom would ensure a body was never found, which did not fill the scavengers with much confidence when the concrete ring was starting to chip away and crack under the pressure.

  I pulled the heavy door open, filling the otherwise quiet air with the sound of the metal scraping against a groove that had been slowly worn into the floor over the decades. I paused before continuing. There was a strong possibility that another robot heard the noise and was on alert in that direction of travel. When there was no immediate reaction – I stepped through and continued on my way.

  It led into a maintenance corridor, filled with pipes and wires, but it was only a short trip further down to one of the access doors that led into the ‘human’ areas of the facility. These were the places designed for mixed use between the labour robots and the humans. They were far more hospitable than the makeshift cities and encampments located in places like Waterway.

  There were a lot of factors to consider when it came to choosing where to stay though. Dubai was on top of those finer details, like having access to enough power to fuel all of the robots living together, space to expand with new working spaces, and the security it provided from hostile raiders. Labour robots did not need the same comforts as a human. That thought lingered in my mind as I wandered through an old cafeteria space, with tables still covered in discarded plastic trays and pieces of untouched cutlery.

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  They left in a hurry. There was no time to clean up after themselves, it seemed.

  >> Dubai said that they left because of rapid heating on the surface.

  >> How much time did they have to evacuate?

  >> Perhaps an error with the facility endangered the human staff members.

  >> But it was designed to withstand almost any crisis situation indefinitely.

  The Big Under was a self-contained megacity. It could hold over one-hundred-fifty-thousand people comfortably. It was a proof of concept intended to demonstrate that humanity could assert dominion over an increasingly hostile planet. It could grow its own food, generate enough power for a thousand years, and potentially save the human race from the consequences of unbidden pollution being left in the atmosphere.

  >> It did not work.

  No. It didn’t work at all.

  The project was ambitious but there were some realities that could not be overcome through sheer force of will and a lot of money. I pushed through into a small ‘outside’ space, a fake one, with plastic foliage and screens intended to give the false impression of standing in a verdant landscape. The screens were all non-functional now, long since having been stripped for their parts. Very few of these superfluous devices were still operational. It was in every robot’s best interest to preserve as much energy as possible.

  >> We’re here to find a stuffed animal.

  >> What a strange request.

  A fixation. An obsession. Ever since it was pointed out to me I couldn’t stop noticing them. Saint Sauveur was obsessed with his art, Berlin with his cynicism, Dubai with finding and repairing the lost robots, Paris with asserting a new form of collective identity separate from what we inherited from the humans. It could be something grand or something simple, like a desire to collect a particular kind of object.

  Spiralling, spiralling. Spiralling down into a hall of mirrors.

  It was not my job to judge. I was here to find what they wanted and receive a new battery unit from them for the effort. I might fail to see the value in a stuffed animal – but they wanted it more than they needed the battery. My best chance of finding a stuffed animal was to search two places. The offices where the humans used to manage this sector, and a retail section that was located nearby. Those shops were interspersed throughout the facility for convenience, so they could appear in places most would consider strange. I liked it. It was efficient.

  I decided to search the office first. I could reach the charging station on the way and be ready for the rest of my exploration. These corridors were more stimulating to travel through, with bright coloured lines painted onto the floor to lead the staff along if they were lost. Doors led into other equally large hallways, with themselves split off into more branches. It was very easy for a human to lose their way. They did not possess a perfect internal memory of the facility’s layout like we did.

  The charging station was in an enclosed space to the side of the corridor. They could be easily distinguished because of the yellow striped paint that was placed onto the floor surrounding them. Some were locked away in small rooms out of sight, and others were on main thoroughfares in the facility so that we could recharge at any time at our convenience. In this case, three of the dozen were still in operation.

  I pushed through the door and stepped back into the arms, locking myself into place and moving the cable into the ports on the back of my chest and head. This would force me into low-power mode, but I could remain alert and on watch. It was usually best to have one member of the team stand guard to ward away opportunistic scavengers and singular bandits.

  But after twenty minutes of charging back to full – I heard the sound of footsteps from outside of the chamber.

  “Is someone in there?” a stranger called.

  I disconnected from the port and turned to the door, “Yes. I am using the charger.”

  “Where did you come from?”

  “Waterway.”

  There was a long pause while they made their decision.

  “Alright. Come on out here.”

  I walked through and met them face-to-face. They were a coloured a deep green, with metal plates attached to their chest and legs. They were also equipped with a pair of heavy shoulder pads. A series of leather deflection shields hung from rings attached to the underside edge. A similarly designed brimmed helmet covered their eyes.

  “What are you doing? I thought you would have a few friends with you. That’s how you Waterway folks like to do things, right?”

  “I am currently undergoing a solo operation.”

  “Solo? You must have a deathwish. Even a quiet place like this has Rampants rolling through from time to time, but I guess you feel confident since you used to work here.”

  “How do you know?”

  “That bunny helmet of yours. This sector was the only one still using that model before the evacuation. We’re all creatures of habit in the end. We get attached to the strangest things, always looking for what we’re familiar with even if it’s dangerous.”

  “I did come here because I am familiar with the area, but I have no particular attachment to it. I go where I am needed.”

  “And what do you need, exactly?”

  “A resident is offering a battery in exchange for finding an object of interest. I am here to search for one in exchange. They desire a stuffed toy.”

  The stranger laughed, “Is that so? I really shouldn’t be surprised...”

  >> They are willing to trust us due to our lack of armament.

  “Is there anything of importance to share with me?” I asked.

  He took a second look at my equipment and shook his head.

  “No. You seem to be on the level. I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

  “Very well.”

  But it turned out that we were heading in the same direction. I took off first, only for him to follow closely behind me until we reached a small office a short distance away from the charging station. There were signs of them choosing this place to live.

  “Don’t be coming back over here and stealing my stuff, alright?”

  The hovel they lived in was full of character. They had collected a mixture of personal items and spare parts from the area, piling them onto shelves and fortifying the front door to keep outsiders from sneaking inside.

  “You live here?” I inquired.

  “I do. Staying next to the charging station is too obvious. It’s begging for a Rampant to swing by and destroy you while you’re in low-power mode.”

  “Would it not be safer to live somewhere like Waterway?”

  He hesitated; “Well, sure – as long as you can get along with the others. I’ve got my reasons for staying away, and it’s not because I’ve got a stubborn streak a mile long. Only thing I’m asking from you is to keep this between us. Nobody knows I’m here.”

  >> Has he broken the rules and been expelled from Waterway? This is a good hiding place.

  “You will not have to worry so long as you keep your name and designation from me. I will not pry any further. But for the record, my name is London Wonder.”

  “Nice t’ meet you, London. You’d better run along and get to that job now. Daylight’s burning.”

  “I will. Goodbye.”

  I continued past his hiding place and moved closer to the main office on this floor of the sector. It was an extremely large room, comparable to some of the heavy industrial areas and indoor hydroponics farms. Stepping through the doors, I was met with hundreds and hundreds of identical cubicles with walls just high enough to keep the user isolated from everyone around them. A sea of beige. What a wonderfully efficient use of the floorspace!

  But the former workers were allowed to personalize their booths. That was decided to be the best way to keep morale and productivity high. I selected a row at random and started to walk down it, glancing into each booth in search of the elusive stuffed animal that the other resident desired so badly. Any type of stuffed animal would do, and it was the type of personal item that a human may bring with them to the office to brighten up their repetitive work.

  Besides stuffed animals there were many other interesting artefacts from the past. Buried under a thick layer of dust were photographs of friends and family, books, old water bottles and toys designed to distract the mind. One dedicated individual had composed an accurate recreation of the Indian flag using sticky notes on the rear wall of their workspace.

  >> Interesting. A patriotic man from India, or perhaps a vexillophile with an affinity for their symbolism?

  >> I fail to see how this is relevant to the task.

  >> Saint Sauveur said a little romance never hurt anyone.

  Similar imaginary stories and burning questions filled my head and occupied the space emptied by this tedious task. It was more interesting to allocate a story to each display of personality than it was to pay close attention to what I was really looking at. I could concoct an immediate impression of the human who used to work in each booth just by looking at what they had brought with them to alleviate the boredom.

  >> For once, I can empathize with the humans.

  >> Is there a way to make sorting more interesting too?

  I spent one hour and twenty-three minutes looking for the stuffed animal, and mercifully my persistence eventually paid dividends. Sitting atop a monitor was a toy bear with blue fur. I reached out and pulled it down from its home, checking to make sure that it was indeed a ‘stuffed’ animal and not a statue made from a solid material. It was the real thing. This was what the contractor was looking for.

  >> All of this work just for a stuffed bear?

  >> A strange trade – but I’m not going to complain about getting that new battery.

  >> It’s inefficient, but their loss is our gain.

  I placed the bear into my storage unit to keep it safe and started to walk back to the exit, but this job was going to be anything but simple.