My search for the secret hidden in the depths of the Mariana Trench never stopped from the moment the map became available. I learned every bit of information about the place, watched videos of cameras dropped down below, and even went through all the files of a few manned expeditions.

What those few brave individuals managed to accomplish (despite archaic technology) was nothing short of astonishing. Every piece of data available was meticulously analyzed and it showed me… nothing. Oh, I was by now the foremost expert on the Mariana Trench, but all that did not bring me any closer to finding out what I was searching for.

There were no shortcuts to be found, and that only left the hard way. Inspecting every foot of that place and hoping for a lucky strike. For all I knew, the thing we were looking for could have been the size of a postage stamp. OK, I admit that would be unlikely, but still possible. (0.00005 percent… I did the math.)

I constructed a fleet of submersible drones and equipped them with all the bells and whistles. First, they went over the entire trench and did more detailed mapping, and then they got to work on performing deep earth scans of the Ocean’s floor. It sounds funny that I was scanning beneath the ground under the ocean, but then again, water is just a chemical substance, a mixture similar to the breathable air. (You don’t think fish are not looking at us and wonder why we are so strange and not breathing water, as normal creatures do?)

With all technology at my disposal, one would hope that scanning the whole thing would not be so hard, well… the Mariana Trench is freaking huge. It is a scar in the Earth’s crust that is 1580 miles (2,550 km) long and 43 miles (69 km) wide, on average. Can you imagine how vast that area is to check? Additionally, there are sides to it.

I thought to bring the Excalibur down there and see if anything happens, like if some unseen key fob thingamajig would activate and there would be some indicator where to look. Unfortunately, the Excalibur would have never survived these depths; it was built for space, which is mostly empty. It was not a submarine designed to endure such pressure, which was one thousand times that of mean sea-level atmospheric pressure. Even my submersible drones needed to be thoroughly engineered to work in these crazy depths.

Then, after a long time, one of the drones hit pay dirt, a reading of highly concentrated metal behind one of the trench walls (imagine my surprise).

First, I looked at camera footage, to make sure it was not some shipping container someone unloaded, full of toxic waste. And yes, we did find a dozen of those during our search. Those who pushed them overboard thought that no one would ever look there. Some of them leaked, but there was not an abundance of life in these depths. Still, I ordered it collected and brought to the surface. (Right now, it is on its way to the Sun, to be incinerated in that big oven.)

The rock was seamless, and if that drone had not been passing right in front of it, the reading could have been easily missed. I gave them instructions to start digging into the solid rock. Five feet into it, the drones broke through.

It is a good thing I over-engineered submersible drones, giving them digging arms and drills, just in case. It wasn't such a big modification and I may have borrowed the design from one of the SF movies that take place deep under the surface. Each had its own dedicated MI, lesser version but enough to allow them somewhat independent action. They uncovered a door made of bright metal, not a spot of rust on it.

I should have informed Michael immediately about what was found, but a version of gold fever has taken control of me; I wanted so bad to discover what was there. There were so many questions I wanted to be answered. Who built the Excalibur? why was I made into an AI? who were the builders?—and many more. One of my drones pointed a high-powered laser at the door, and there was a bit of a problem. (Mind you, this wasn't an attempt to melt the damn thing, but to analyze its composition.)

The door itself started broadcasting a strong signal, and it took me a moment to realize it was in code that corresponded to the language of the shipbuilders. That was easy enough to decipher (I made a dictionary when I was first learning about the Excalibur). What do you know; it was a challenge to transmit back the password, only I didn't know it.

That was a bit embarrassing, finding a door and lacking a key. What is more, after the first repetition of the challenge, an extra bit of data was transmitted, and it took me a few moments to realize that it was a timer that was counting down. (As we learned from the movies, countdown timers are never good news… never.)

It would reach zero in three days, and all thought of breaking in through those doors evaporated from my mind. I had a feeling that any forceful attempted entry would make that timer a moot point. There was a good probability that I was dealing with a self-destruct bomb mechanism; one placed here to make sure that those who were not meant to be here would never find what was hidden inside.

Further analysis of the challenge signal showed something remarkable. I found a string of code that was identical to something I encountered before. It was an identifying processor ID of the CEI originally found on the Excalibur, and that one went into Michael’s head. I did change many supporting peripherals of his CEI to make it... well, better, but I didn't mess with the core, it was too complex for me to tackle at that time.

All the other CEIs were made from reverse-engineering the original, but I left out all unnecessary parts, things I couldn't see any use for, except it would seem there was a use for them. This thing here would only recognize Michael's implant.

Right from the moment we discovered the map, I knew there was a possibility that Michael would need to come to the bottom of the trench. It was not a 100% certainty, yet I like to be prepared. Since the Excalibur and transporters were out, I started designing a submersible vehicle that would work the same way as a regular transporter, just underwater. My second idea to build a hard-shell suit for underwater work was a no-go from the start. There was simply no way to deal with the insane amount of pressure at these depths; it would crush a human to the size of a cola can. (OK, that may be an exaggeration, but you get what I mean.)

My first two deep-sea prototypes were complete failures. They were modified transporters that simply didn't have enough structural integrity to remain… unsquashed? Yet, they gave me enough data to know what I needed. The final submersible I named The Cameron (in honor of one of my favorite filmmakers who went to the bottom of the trench) and it was a safe, working model. It was built purposely from the ground up and weighed as much as five normal transporters with thick walls and reinforced central column to strengthen it. It did move using a Gravity-drive, but this thing was not built for speed, so other transporters would leave it eating dust in a straight race. Despite that, it could go to the deepest part of the Earth's oceans with no trouble.

I made one slight miscalculation… I built it only with Michael in mind and did not count that Elizabeth, Tyron, Pete, and Al would insist that they go, too. Thus, when I told Michael about the find, I needed to postpone the trip so I could make and install additional seats (quite embarrassing really).

The next morning they were all there, ready to embark on the adventure that was supposed to answer the question of my very creation. So... no pressure (this is a pun, there will be so much pressure down there, it is not even funny).

The trip to the planet went smoothly; I even took them close to one of my space garbage trucks, to show off a bit. However, the sight of Pagan Island was a bit depressing. The place was wrecked. I know that in time it will regain that tropical island charm it used to have; volcanoes eject many minerals plants need, but it will not be any time soon.

Al was sweating bullets at the entire 'Let's go to the bottom of the ocean’ idea, but he would have sooner cut his own hand off than admit that he was really scared; I helped him a bit by balancing some chemical components his glands were pumping out. It was a bit morally questionable, but having a full-blown panic attack in such a small space was not advisable (did I mention that his upgraded body could do plenty of damage). So, I balanced his mental state, you know that thing, better living through chemistry, or something like that.

All my attempts at humor on the way down fell on deaf ears, I guess they were not in the mood, but you win some and you lose some.

From the time I sent the first drones down there, the problem of communications needed to be dealt with. Usual methods of using hydrophones did not appeal to me since I wanted to make our undertaking as secret as it could be. Besides, underwater communication has too low data rates for my needs as it uses acoustic waves instead of electromagnetic ones. Moreover, communicating with a multitude of drones required a hell of a lot of bandwidth. The solution was an old-fashion cable that was anchored at the bottom and had a satellite-link buoy on the surface. That is right; I lowered a thirty-six-thousand-foot-long cable just to have a good Internet connection. It worked and the communication between my drones on the bottom of the Mariana Trench and the Ascension (via my satellites) was instantaneous. That was the same way I piloted The Cameron, while the Excalibur was in the Ascension's bay.

The Cameron arrived at the scene and as soon as Michael came close enough, the communication between the doors and his CEI started automatically. Then—an honest to God ‘open sesame’ moment. Apparently, Michael was that key fob I was hoping for; the doors opened and I guided The Cameron inside.

The first thing that blew my mind was the energy screen— it simply defied logic. I made energy screens for the Ascension using blueprints I found in the Excalibur's memory, and they were fine. What I mean is that they did the job to keep the air in and vacuum outside. Still, none of them could have stopped the force that the water pressure was exerting at these depths. This one was orders of magnitude stronger. I had some ideas on how to use it to make our home far more secure since the basic principles could be used to make our shields much stronger.

I parked the sub in the big metallic chamber, and the crew got out. Honestly, I was a bit nervous as that supposed bomb timer was still ticking and the controlling MI would not answer any of my queries. It was why I sometimes disliked the damned things, they were absolutely task-oriented, but hating them would be like hating a calculator, pointless and idiotic.

Michael approached a small hatch, which was the only feature in the entire place, and I felt the exchange of security protocols between his CEI and the MI. It was something new, the damn CEI didn't ask for any permission to establish an outside connection. That gave me the chills, it was as if all the security measures I placed didn't matter since there was a freaking back door in the system. (A thing I will have to fix as soon as possible; an alien freaking computer having access to Michael's brain was not a good thing.)

I, fortunately, stopped the others from entering the other chamber when the hatch opened. They sure didn't have any security measures responses hardcoded in their CEIs.

Then came an oh shit moment, when the door hatch slammed shut as soon as Michael entered inside. I must admit, I was panicking the hell out. No signals were coming through, Elizabeth and the others were frantic. I immediately went to 100% usage of my AI-core and tried to think of a solution. The only option was to use the antenna in Cameron to boost my signal, and it worked in some way, except the connection was so limited I barely managed to receive grainy video, the audio was somewhat fine. It was a good thing that I did as Tyron was about to start cutting that hatch with his monomolecular blade (with that timer still ticking—a bad idea).

By the time I managed to calm everyone down, I was also translating to Michael what the MI was requesting in the builder's language. Luckily, I also learned the spoken form of it at the start, when I was still learning the ropes of the Excalibur’s operations. That does not mean my translation was perfect, just adequate. The MI on the Excalibur knew many phrases and usual responses, which is not the same as speaking fluently (some nuances can be easily misunderstood).

Michael proceeded to the center of the chamber and I piggybacked on his suit’s cameras and sensors; there was no way I would miss what he was about to find inside, it was in some ways more important to me than to him. (Who would not want to know the reasons for his entire existence—it is an existential question.)

The room was simple in its design, but I detected additional structures beneath the floor, which made me believe this was a sphere where all the working parts, including the reactor and the MI, were in the lower half. Only a simple pedestal was breaking the monotonous decor of the place, but I guess it was built more for function than for aesthetic purposes.

The MI started issuing orders that Michael should place his hand on the pedestal for verification, and I translated it for him. The strange thing was that (once again) the hand indentation on it had nothing alien about it, simply a silhouette of a normal human hand. Michael did and the freaking thing bit him. (Not really, just used a long needle to collect DNA for analysis.)

The moment his CEI (and a sample of his DNA) confirmed some sort of a code that MI was searching for, it gave full control to Michael and, subsequently to me. I almost had a digital stroke. It opened up all of its memory, and there was a hell of a lot of it. Mostly quite boring maintenance data logs, but there was one huge discrepancy. This thing had only a few years of it when I thought it needed to have thousands of years of data.

In its memory, I found an answer. A stasis technology that enabled it to skip centuries of entropy’s influence by suspending time itself. It only worked at scheduled intervals to check the stability of its systems. It was a nice piece of tech I could use. The other shock was discovering how that energy field was powered. A monster of a fusion reactor gave it far more power than it would need in a million years; at the same time, it was a self-destruct device. That countdown was the time until it went into deliberate overload and went boom. When my drones discovered and scanned the entrance doors, they unintentionally fulfilled the conditions to activate the self-destruct. The thing was such a monster that it would obliterate miles of the surrounding terrain. I couldn't even calculate what kind of damage would it do to Earth’s crust this deep. Whoever made it, wanted to make sure it would never fall into the wrong hands. (Whose wrong hands those were… more questions for the future.)

On the bright side, I got the designs for the power source, and that would make my life so much easier. The transporters were not a problem since they used a similar reactor that was in the Excalibur, and it provided more than enough energy for them. The Ascension was a different kind of beast. The reactors could not be simply scaled up indefinitely so they would provide more energy. Very soon, I hit a wall of diminishing returns; my answer to the Ascension’s energy problem was to build hundreds of reactors all over the ship and for them to provide power. It worked, and it was great for redundancy, but the maintenance was such a hassle. Besides, each reactor needed to have a lesser version of a dedicated MI to control all variables and energy output. Now, the entire Ascension could be powered with just one reactor found here, and it would have the energy to spare. I wouldn't replace existing ones, but I would sure build one on the ship, and use it while most of the smaller reactors would be used only if there was a need. Furthermore, I had some bigger projects planned for the future and this was a godsend and an answer to many of future energy problems.

Good thing that Tyron and the rest didn't come into that last chamber with Michael; they would have activated another set of instructions that would have made Michael’s verification more difficult. (Maybe the builders wanted to make sure nobody was coerced to open the chamber for someone else, I am only speculating, but it seems logical.)

I got so many goodies from that MI, I already planned a few dozen implementations of the new technologies; just the composition of the metal the entire installation was built from, was a windfall. It could now strengthen the Ascension's and the transporters hull by an order of magnitude (more projects on my list).

What is more, I decided to name the metal alloy; I may not have invented it, but I called dibs. In the end, I will be the one that needs to figure out its composition. Its new name is Resistanium.

I know it is not even remotely original, but that stuff can resist a lot of abuse, and it keeps its polish really good, so there, sue me.

The real prize was the cube and another AI-core. The AI-core was nothing new, after all, I had one, so it will be interesting to see who is on it. On the other hand, that gigantic memory cube was beyond believable. I already knew that it didn't contain another AI (or a super-AI); its composition indicated pure memory storage. This was a sheer mountain of data, so much so that even my digital mind could not figure out why someone would need that much storage. As I said to Michael, all human knowledge could have fit in a tiny fraction on it, and this thing was seriously massive. A quick analysis of its composition told me that it was made from a material that had even more closely compacted atoms than the AI-core, something I was theoretically playing with.

Nevertheless, I could not access it. Oh, it needed some support structures to fully power it but it had some energy of its own for top layer stuff. As soon as I tried to peek inside, I was very rudely denied access. My only guess is that whoever was on that AI-core had the key. Activating it would be a challenge in itself.

I told Michael about the self-destruct scenario that would have been enacted if his codes weren't good, or if we tried to break into the facility. I may have fibbed a bit or told a partial truth. The truth is that this thing would have destroyed the Earth, or changed it so much it would have been unrecognizable to the remaining humans if any survived.

I crunched the numbers and came up with three scenarios that could have happened if that thing exploded, and each was worse than the previous. Which puts the questions of who were the builders if they made a planet-killing device, and left it there for thousands of years.

The trouble was that the facility was in that particular place, the Mariana Trench is a boundary between two tectonic plates. The explosion of that magnitude on the lithosphere’s weak spots would make the plates start either converging or diverging very quickly, which is not good. Some energy would have been reflected back up from the bottom of the trench to be liberated at the surface in the form of a super tsunami; Japan, Southeast Asia, half of Australia, US Pacific Coast, and many other coastal areas would simply be washed away.

Massive earthquakes would activate the entire Ring of Fire, which would then give rise to the second installment of mega-tsunamis. Weather patterns would change, a nuclear winter would block the sunlight, and many species would die out. That was the best-case scenario (if you can believe it).

The second was that the explosion would punch a hole in the Earth's crust sufficient to produce a magma fountain that would… create a new continent. Of course, that would be a long process that humanity had little chance of surviving. Oh, and all those nice things from the first scenario would be included and magnified.

The third scenario would be worse, it depended on the size of that hole, and the pressure of magma trapped in the earth's core. There were two options in that case. One, the released pressure would push the entire planet slightly out of its current orbit, closer or further from the Sun. Each possibility would be similarly bad; it is simply a difference in temperature, but life-ending in either way. The second option was that the old girl would simply not stand such abuse, and would fall apart. With all those things, it was obvious that whoever placed the installation in exactly that place knew what he was doing, and wasn't shying from the destruction of the planet just to ensure the AI-Core and all that data in the memory cube was kept away from someone's hands.

It was decided to transfer everything to the Ascension so we could figure out what was on it, and the guys had some trouble caring the memory cube (it weighed a proverbial ton). That was it, nothing else was there. The only piece of useful information was that this small chamber was actually built on the surface and then dumped in the sea. The MI was commanded to create the bigger chamber and then additional layers of protection around it.

All this time, it waited for someone wearing Michaels CEI to show up. Why that someone never came? Why was the Excalibur buried? Those questions are still a mystery, but I had high hopes that the AI would have some answers. I gave the MI order to remain here and take care of the place, it did not mind (it had no feelings).

We did not need it right now, but who knew what surprises the future would bring.