Oh, sand. Her favorite thing. Of course that was when Motoko noticed the sand-worms clustered around Sheeana and realized what her new 'favorite' was. Then there was the woman herself- one could swear she was frustrating on purpose, in fact, she probably was. Motoko didn't enjoy being reminded of how very far she'd come from what she still sometimes thought of herself as: human.
"Not unless they decide to try and take a chunk out of my shell," she returned. Motoko could be dry about this, with Sheeana making jokes and flirting her eyelashes as if it didn't matter.
Her footsteps on the sand were heavier than a normal humans because she was heavier than one. She could walk lighter, endeavor not to make any noise and in many cases she would succeed. But that took effort, and time, and it made her look like she was stalking someone with the intent to kill. To be fair, at times like that, she usually was.
"I think, of all beings, they could empathize with that." An enigmatic statement, but a true one if one knew the history of the beings crawling about on the sand now. The Major's footsteps were as loud as a thumper to them.
"I am a desert creature. My mothers-within counsel me about adaption, but I have my weaknesses." Now where had that come from? Yes, she had noticed that Motoko was a very attractive woman, in an outfreyn way. However...As easily the man who would become these worms noticed Hwi Noree's beauty; Because she was built that way.
Is a painting less beautiful because it was made by the hand of an artist and not the genetic dance of nature? Sheeana too had been built, though perhaps in a less exacting fashion that Motoko's shell. Semantics- what was the real difference between woman and machine?
"Credulity is the man's weakness, but the child's strength," She replied, watching the creatures on the sand, "Your mothers-within? Shall we go diving?"
A double-meaning, if only Sheeana knew, and nearly a threat, despite the amusement Motoko let lift her expression. Dive the Net, dive the minds of all those connected, indeed, diving was Motoko's passion and past-time. In the water was the only place she was ever really alone.
Diving...diving... That was a concept she only knew the definition of, had never experienced herself. She could not place it in context, except to make a comparison to the interior diving she had to do to survive the Spice Agony.
"Into what depths?" She had to admit her confusion.
"Physical ones, unless you think you're willing to push past the basic incompatibilities of hardware," The idea of a newly ghost-dubbed Sheeana was like the thought of handing an assault rifle to a grade-schooler. Once she got past the basic control-systems, the unintentional carnage would be incredible.
"If we head down to Sector Four, there's no reason not to test your...adaptations."
Soon enough they were across the zip-lines and Sheeana was staring at the man-made pool, tiled and plasteel, a great chamber. Underneath were more and more tunnels, she knew, a labyrinth of untold miles under the waves.
Her Fremen instincts were going topsy turvy, heart suddenly accelerating until she forced it down. "This much water would be enough for the whole of Dune for years."
"More than seventy percent of the Earth is covered in water," Motoko replied, double-checking the compressed-air floaters that would keep her from dying a very quick death under the water. That done, she snapped the lines around herself and looked to the rest of the equipment. What she was wearing would do for diving- it wasn't as if she bothered with a great deal of clothing to begin with.
SCUBA would give them as much time as they needed to have a look around- and Motoko's shell couldn't hold enough oxygen to make holding her breath a worthwhile endeavor. She held out one of the rigs for Sheeana, wetsuit and all, having made sure of the pressure and estimated her size. All told it was at least a hundred pounds, but she lifted it as if it were no heavier than a paperweight, "Here. Put this on."
"Less than one percent of people know the word 'Earth' in my time...And where I come from there is no native water."
She stripped and slithered into the wetsuit with surprising agility though. She'd grown up wearing a stillsuit, its complete opposite, but similar in composition. She forced her muscles to keep her upright. Different materials or no, she wasn't going to show weakness.
She watched Motoko closely, both memorizing the procedure and wondering at the things that kept a cyborg of her weight from dying underwater.
Motoko fitted the straps of the tanks around her shoulders and tightened them, then took the ventilator in hand and paced to the water's edge. The redundant compressors for the un-inflated quick-rise flotation buoys packed into the outer harness were secure, the air supply was adequate.
She turned to give Sheeana a steady look, "Do you think you can swim without killing yourself?"
Once they went under, Motoko would have a lot of difficulty saving Sheeana's life, if it came to that.
"This is like a stillsuit in reverse. I at least still have neutral buoyancy." She replied with slight petulance before donning the mask, sealing it and the tanks around herself, aware of the way the rubber skin clung to and outlined her, like bold strokes of pen.
She knelt at the edge of the water, looking back through Other Memory. Darwi's voice came to her, began to instruct her. Her predecessor had a childish part to herself called 'Seachild', she found. This quasi-personality had escaped Bene Gesserit discipline and was now a potent resource for her.
Motoko gave her a long, unimpressed look, evaluating, then decided not to care. She simply dropped backwards into water that had no shallows- this part of the floor stuck out like a shelf.
The Major sank like a stone and as she did so too did the inimitable buzz of contact. The signals cut away, one by one, infrared was useless almost immediately. Radio followed soon after. The water closed in above her eyes and she watched it turn ever bluer, feeling the layers to world imposed on her ghost peeling away, one by one. Only here could Motoko ever truly be alone, ever count her thoughts as her own. And still, she was sinking, weightless. A kick brought her face towards Sheeana's, to see her reaction. Only curious, for once, and not looking for cruelty's sake.
Sheeana followed slower into the great underwater chamber, regulating her breathing and heartrate carefully. It was a psychological, as much as a physical journey, she knew.
Her face showed pure astonishment, but not fear.
A memory came to her: twelve years old, being marched stiff legged into a pool by stern faced proctors. The other acolytes, all from water-rich worlds had giggled behind their hands.
And here again I plunge into this steel womb. She thought as she dropped past immense metal walls that dwarfed them both.
Bottom. Motoko's bare heels struck it with a sound that was audible and her eyes which had drifted half-closed, opened. For a moment she stared at the surface lit dimly above, and wondered what it would be like to die. Wondered if she'd even know she were dying...or would it simply be like turning off a machine?
Sheeana wheeled slightly above her, and the light rippled in response to the distortion her body made. A shadow-silhouette, like a doll made of paper. She reached out...
So much for sightseeing.
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Suddenly they turned to the intruder and hissed. Machine!
"Stop that. She means us no harm...Isn't that right?" It was a coquettish entreaty.
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Her footsteps on the sand were heavier than a normal humans because she was heavier than one. She could walk lighter, endeavor not to make any noise and in many cases she would succeed. But that took effort, and time, and it made her look like she was stalking someone with the intent to kill. To be fair, at times like that, she usually was.
"This is where you've set up, then?"
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"I am a desert creature. My mothers-within counsel me about adaption, but I have my weaknesses." Now where had that come from? Yes, she had noticed that Motoko was a very attractive woman, in an outfreyn way. However...As easily the man who would become these worms noticed Hwi Noree's beauty; Because she was built that way.
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"Credulity is the man's weakness, but the child's strength," She replied, watching the creatures on the sand, "Your mothers-within? Shall we go diving?"
A double-meaning, if only Sheeana knew, and nearly a threat, despite the amusement Motoko let lift her expression. Dive the Net, dive the minds of all those connected, indeed, diving was Motoko's passion and past-time. In the water was the only place she was ever really alone.
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"Into what depths?" She had to admit her confusion.
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"If we head down to Sector Four, there's no reason not to test your...adaptations."
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Her Fremen instincts were going topsy turvy, heart suddenly accelerating until she forced it down. "This much water would be enough for the whole of Dune for years."
Reply
SCUBA would give them as much time as they needed to have a look around- and Motoko's shell couldn't hold enough oxygen to make holding her breath a worthwhile endeavor. She held out one of the rigs for Sheeana, wetsuit and all, having made sure of the pressure and estimated her size. All told it was at least a hundred pounds, but she lifted it as if it were no heavier than a paperweight, "Here. Put this on."
Reply
She stripped and slithered into the wetsuit with surprising agility though. She'd grown up wearing a stillsuit, its complete opposite, but similar in composition. She forced her muscles to keep her upright. Different materials or no, she wasn't going to show weakness.
She watched Motoko closely, both memorizing the procedure and wondering at the things that kept a cyborg of her weight from dying underwater.
Reply
She turned to give Sheeana a steady look, "Do you think you can swim without killing yourself?"
Once they went under, Motoko would have a lot of difficulty saving Sheeana's life, if it came to that.
Reply
She knelt at the edge of the water, looking back through Other Memory. Darwi's voice came to her, began to instruct her. Her predecessor had a childish part to herself called 'Seachild', she found. This quasi-personality had escaped Bene Gesserit discipline and was now a potent resource for her.
Reply
The Major sank like a stone and as she did so too did the inimitable buzz of contact. The signals cut away, one by one, infrared was useless almost immediately. Radio followed soon after. The water closed in above her eyes and she watched it turn ever bluer, feeling the layers to world imposed on her ghost peeling away, one by one. Only here could Motoko ever truly be alone, ever count her thoughts as her own. And still, she was sinking, weightless. A kick brought her face towards Sheeana's, to see her reaction. Only curious, for once, and not looking for cruelty's sake.
Reply
Her face showed pure astonishment, but not fear.
A memory came to her: twelve years old, being marched stiff legged into a pool by stern faced proctors. The other acolytes, all from water-rich worlds had giggled behind their hands.
And here again I plunge into this steel womb. She thought as she dropped past immense metal walls that dwarfed them both.
Reply
Sheeana wheeled slightly above her, and the light rippled in response to the distortion her body made. A shadow-silhouette, like a doll made of paper. She reached out...
Touch.
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She did start at Motoko's fingers brushing her. She whirled a few feet above her, fingers grasping for a crysknife that was no longer at her waist.
Seduction attempt or threat? Her eyes made the enquiry.
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