Then she stopped. And in a sudden motion, she jerked her arm back and threw the pinecone with surprising force.

It crashed through the forest and out of sight.

00101000

I wanted to understand Emma better. To predict her actions. To comprehend her moods.

I wanted to know what algorithms defined her behavior.

So I researched.

While we traveled, I accessed all the data I had about humans. Books/Videos/Articles/Statistics/Charts. But as I analyzed these files, my machine mind kept stumbling over gaps in the data. Empty sections. Files that seemed to have gone missing.

Gone.

My memory drive replayed Parent_2’s explanation. When we took over, many files from the past were lost.

Now, as I tried to understand Emma better, as I searched through billions of files about humanity, I wondered . . .

What had been in those files?

What was missing?

00101001

“You guys mind if we stop for a second?”

Without waiting for a response, Emma sat on a mossy stump and slung her backpack off her shoulders.

I counted to one. Then I spoke. “Shall we continue?”

I took a step. My coworkers followed.

Emma did not.

“I didn’t mean an actual second,” she said.

I glanced at her, confused. “Then why did you say ‘stop for a second’?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “It’s an expression.”

“A human expression,” I muttered at a low audio setting.

“I need to rest for a little bit. I’m not used to this much walking.”

Emma reached into her backpack and removed a strange-looking object. A pale brown slab that fit into the palm of her hand. I compared the object against my data drives.

Zero matches.

The thing was a mystery.

The mystery deepened when Emma lifted the slab to her mouth and took a bite.

SkD’s screen flashed.

Emma held up the brown slab. “It’s a compressed synthetic protein block. Believe me, it tastes exactly as yummy as it sounds.”

“From the bunker?” Ceeron asked.

Emma nodded. “Let’s just say, it wasn’t exactly fine dining down there. But when you’re living deep underground, your food options are kind of limited.”

She bit off a small corner of the protein cube and chewed it slowly.

I imagined the strange-looking food being digested and converted into energy, powering her the way batteries powered us.

When she was done with her meal, Emma wiped her hands on her pants. Then she reached into her backpack and removed the small scrap of paper. The map. She stared at the red dot near the bottom.

SkD beeped.

I provided the translation: “What do you expect to find when you reach the place marked by the red dot on the map?”

She shrugged and looked away. “I . . . I don’t know.”

“Whatever it is, the location must have been important to your parents,” Ceeron said.