“Why are those bad?”
“We aren't entirely sure, but they almost always grow unstable and insane.” Fandtha explains, “We think it is our essence that grounds our personality, our, uh, psyche in the spiritual dimension that exists outside the universe, bringing much needed stability. Machines, biological or otherwise, lack this connection and so become unstable. It is only a theory, but the historical evidence is overwhelming. All races that grow into machine intelligences fail, and eventually become extinct. The machines are often exceedingly dangerous, but thankfully, without access to dimensional travel, they pose little widespread threat. The same thing happens if you create more than a single unitary.”
Achi had a feeling they would react to that.
“Is that why you limit the population of symbiots? When Zaleria and I were brought together, we each had our maximum population, but since they were all technically her symbiots…”
“They would have been overpopulated. Hmm. Curious. What happened?”
“They became self-aware but only while we were within local range. It…ceased to be a problem after her unitary was destroyed.”
“Interesting thought. You theorize this is what happened to Gravis? Hmm…But to answer your question, we avoid it because you end up with two intelligences in one unitary. Normally, as long as the machine intelligence is grounded with the essence of the host, it will remain stable.”
“See guys, don't worry, I think we're good there.”
“But it can become a problem,” Fandtha continues, “If the host essence is unstable—which can happen—or becomes absent, such as by crossing over. That is what really caused us to put in a hard limit, though, uh, this is not common knowledge. That and the incessant yammering in one's head,
“So what you're telling me is, best case scenario, we're dealing with a biological machine intelligence with the full memories of an over 200,000-year-old galan that is insane and morally corrupt.”
“Best case, yes,” Fandtha confirms.
“This creature will still have symbiots, yes? For how long could it have maintained access to the collective? I assume until Gravis crossed over?”
“That is likely true.”
“Could it have created a 'home' here on Earth, so that if we are able to destroy the unitary it might simply regenerate?” Achi asks.
“We don't know. It is possible; we are beyond our experience at this point. And, uh, since it is already morally corrupt, we must assume there may be more than a single unitary,” Fandtha admits, with a frown. “It seems to have been a unique set of circumstances that set this off. Near as we can tell, it ah, probably occurred during a recon mission where both Traemuña and Gravis were killed on Earth, over 75,000 years ago. Uh, they strayed a bit too close to what you call the Tobo volcano, er, Lake Tobo, now. We have rarely experienced a volcanic event of that magnitude. It was truly impressive from a scientific standpoint and, ah, far beyond the ability of a galan to survive at the distance those two were. At least so we thought. Both were regenerated within a couple years and laughed about it for years after the event. Doesn't seem as, uh, funny now. So to answer your next question, we've never had to hunt anything down like this before.”
Beltare has been following the discussion closely, slowly gaining respect for Achi's intellect, if not his moral character. He has obviously thought this through and is now filling in the gaps in his knowledge. She takes another, longer sip of the 'beer.' She doesn't really like the taste, but it is becoming easier to swallow with each mouthful. The 'carbonation' is strange. The galanen don't have such beverages, usually. She lets out a small burp to expel some of the buildup and notices Clive watching her.
“I'll bet you're more of a white wine person, aren't you? It's more refined than beer.”
She wonders why he is being so friendly but suspects it is to try and gain her cooperation—'butter her up' as a human might phrase it. He is amusing, though, brash. She is over 60,000 years older than him. Still, she should humor him. “Actually, I prefer water. But I appreciate the opportunity to try new things. Do you have any of this 'wine' with you?”
“Not here, perhaps for your next visit? Wine is one of those things that is best paired with food, and white wine pairs best with light foods—which I think are more to galanen liking,” he says.
“Yes, none of us would relish eating animal flesh,” to which Clive nods. She recalls he was there when Zaleria was on Earth. She sees Achi and Fandtha reaching for another couple beers. Achi looks at her questioning; she shakes her head. He tosses one to Clive, who smoothly pops the cap off. They are an odd pair. Physically unrelated, with Achi now appearing to be the junior of the two. But Achi raised him as his own child. She'll have to reevaluate her thoughts about him; he is far more complex than she imagined. Which makes him potentially far more dangerous than she'd given him credit for. No wonder he'd bested her so easily.
Fandtha returns to questioning Achi. “You have been able to circumvent or frustrate several of our protocols. Assuming we can gain your trust, would you be willing to help me, er, help us think through our defenses. This shell will have had 75,000 years to, uh, think of ways to defeat our abilities, our collective, our technology. You have also figured out how to do this, without access to our collective. I, er, think you can help us spot weak points and help us think through, ah, offensive options.”
Achi thinks about this. He'd considered this might be requested of him, given the success he's had so far. They don't know what he feels he is actually capable of, and he isn't sure how much of that he wants to share. But this is because he is still afraid they will want to remove him from Earth. There is also the matter of Cheryn and Clive, and the others undoubtedly like them. He sighs.
“Beltare, what do you see when you look at me?”
She is startled. He's taken her off guard again. She doesn't know what he is asking of her. “I'm not sure what you mean. When I look at you, I see a man, a human who is in his twenties.”
“But you don't see a galan. Why?”
“You're too plain,” she says without really thinking. “A galan male would have more colorful eyes, finer features, act more refined. It's difficult to describe but would be obvious to any galan.”
Achi smiles. “I could change my eye color, but I take your point. Despite my appearance, I don't really act or 'feel' galanen, do I?”
Beltare is confused and afraid she has said something wrong. “Well, no you don't. You have to admit that, I mean…I'm not sure what you're looking for.” She says, frustrated.
“Honesty, and I thank you for that. Genetically, there is no difference between our races, correct?”
Beltare, still puzzled and off-balance answers, “Yes, that is correct. I think Clive and Cheryn are absolute proof of this, as you mentioned so…accurately last time. Our races can mate and produce off-spring.”
Achi continues, “But I also have symbiots, just like any other galan.”
“True, but they are not your own. You are limited. You don't have a comms package, at least not that we've been able to discern, and your symbiots only provide you limited function because your ability to command them is limited by whatever protocols were activated when you were inadvertently inoculated with them.”
“I do not have a comms package, which has caused more problems of late than was to anyone's benefit. But the point I want to m
ake is, I am alien. You see me as human, but I have galan abilities. Limited to some extent, but after 10,000 years of constant negotiation over what constitutes 'being alive,' far more than you might think. What do you think of that? Is that good for Earth or bad? Is it normal or abnormal? What should the galanen do about it, since they created the problem?”
Beltare stops herself. He's laid a trap, led her right to the point where she must judge him. And he knows she doesn't like him. She doesn't. He shot her in the head, treated her like a child, like an inferior being. And he's nothing but—what? She realizes for the first time that he doesn't know the answer to the most fundamental of existential questions 'who am I.' Nobody else does either. He really is a complication.
“I don't know, Achi. I have my opinions, and they're not particularly favorable now, but I'll be honest with you, because you asked me to be candid. It's hard to see you as anything other than yet another violent human after you put a hole through my brain the last time we met.”
“Thank you. That, at least, is very understandable. I was angry the last time we met, which I usually try to avoid. I have learned that negative emotions like anger and hate usually lead me to do things I later regret, like shooting someone in the head that I'm trying to forge an alliance with. However, you should know that I was angry because I know exactly what you think of me, and that you had decided to remove me from Earth and question me on Luna base, probe my mind because you thought—erroneously as you've come to learn—that I was probably a rogue galan. You pointed a pistol at me and treated me like an animal, like you owned me, and owned Earth. I know all this because I was reading your thoughts through your symbiots. Not bad for a baser creature, if I do say so myself.”
“How'd you do that?” Fandtha blurts out, before Beltare can say anything.
“I'd like to tell you Fandtha, but before I give up all my secrets, we're going to have to reach an understanding. First and foremost, I am a human. My people are human. We are sentient beings, although not as evolved technically as the galanen. That mattered enough to Zaleria, once, that she insisted that you heal me just because she didn't want to be the proximal cause of my death. Treat us with basic respect. Second, my purpose is to help humanity make it through the singularity. If the galanen want to help, I will very much appreciate it. If they can't or won't help, then they should leave the Sol system. Lastly, the galanen shall not remove me from my people, or alter me from my present form in any way, without my permission. The same goes for people like Cheryn and Clive who, through no fault of their own, are the offspring of this debased creature. We didn't ask to be what we are, but you have no right to alter us. We are our own sentient beings. If you promise me the galanen will respect these boundaries, I will share all that I know if it can help humanity make it through their singularity. In return, I ask that the galanen help me destroy this creature and its influence over Earth. I will do all that I can to help humanity succeed, even if it results in my utter destruction.”
There is a long pause as both consider what he said. Fandtha's face is unreadable, but Beltare hasn't mastered her emotions. She is conflicted, offended on the one-hand that Achi shows them such distrust, but also knowing full well that she thinks he should be removed from Earth. And she was ready to shoot him to achieve that goal. He finds her eyes upon him, a mix of emotions on her beautiful face, green eyes gleaming in the dwindling firelight. She is so delicate compared to Zaleria's athleticism, but harder in so many other ways. Achi sighs. “You know, Clive wasn't just trying to butter you up. If you're going to be dealing with humans, you'll need to work on those social skills a bit.” She flushes, first with embarrassment, then with anger.
“You have no right to be in my head, listening in to my thoughts. I am not Zaleria! You have no right to invade my privacy!”
“Privacy, an interesting concept in a race predicated on the concept of the collective—and sharing everything. I see your eyes are the right color. Elder Fandtha, Beltare, if you'd like to share with the rest of your group privately, I shall remove myself at least 40 meters yonder.” Achi gestures down the trail. “My symbiots still cannot make a connection beyond local range, and that is the best I can offer to assure you a private conversation.”
“Thank you, Achi, we would appreciate that,” Fandtha says.
Achi looks over at Clive, who stands up and grabs his M4. “Guess that’s our cue to walk the perimeter?”
“Yes.” They follow the road downhill, about 50 meters, and move off opposite sides of the trail, out of habit. They wait.
Fandtha looks at Beltare, who is still visibly angry. “Get a handle on your emotions. He is pushing you, trying to see if he can trust us. You are letting him manipulate you. Why?”
“He is inside my head. Listening in on my every thought.”
“Yes, and we need to find out how he is doing that. I suspect he's doing it to me too, but you don't see me reacting the way you are. There is something deeper at play here.”
“When he had me bound, helpless, he could have done anything to me. There was nothing I could do to stop it, and he made that plain. He also told me things, personal things, about my personality and leadership style. He has made this personal.”
“Has he? To what purpose do you think he is doing these things? What did he tell you? If he can do these things, what do you think that shell will do to you? He is rough, and crude, but he is, in his own way, trying to help you. Pointing out your vulnerabilities. He knows we're going to go after this thing, and he doesn't think we'll succeed if we can't even keep him out of our heads. And in that he is right. He said he is willing to be destroyed to get this thing off Earth. He has no home, no second chance. He's died how many times?”
“He told me 43, if you believe him.”
“Actually, I do,” Fandtha admits. “He probably knows the Being of Light very well now.”
“Yeah, he told me that, too.”
“Then what is preventing your hearing? Why do you think he is telling you this? How many people do you think he has seen die? People he loved. People who didn't cross over and didn't come back. He knows conflict like no galanen could fear to know it, and he is telling you that he doesn't think you are mentally prepared for what you are likely to face.” Fandtha sounds almost angry.
Beltare takes a deep breath and thinks about what she is feeling. Achi told her that she makes too many emotional decisions. Why? He told her rules are crutches for people who are afraid to act on their own. Why? He said her eyes were the right color, twice now. What does that even mean? She pulls from the collective but can't find anything. She looks for Earth references to eye color. What is significant about green eyes…jealousy? Why would he say that? She thinks about what she said. She was reacting emotionally to his being in her head. She should have expected it. He'd done it before, and they still hadn't figured out how he did it, so why is she surprised? But he gave up an advantage telling her. She told him she wasn't Zaleria. He thinks she is jealous of Zaleria. That's ridiculous. She is her mentor; why would she be jealous?
But deep inside, an inner voice says, 'He is right, and you know it.' Traemuña was Beltare's mentor, and she lost that relationship after Zaleria was born. Further, Zaleria is gifted, even by galanen standards. She displays intuition and initiative, almost always landing on her feet. She isn't socially awkward like Beltare. She doesn’t have to work as hard to be successful and never seems to care what other galan think. And galanen like her anyway. And deep inside, she resents it. Achi is right, and that is why she is so upset. He sees right through her, and she resents the hell out of it.
“I fear he is right, Fandtha. I am not ready to face this…thing. And instead of facing that truth, I have lashed out at the person who delivered the message. I have…much to think about. Relationships I need to mend. I will comply with whatever decision the group makes, but I must reflect more on the things he has told me and consider, carefully, my recent actions before offering counsel. I am…sorry.”
&nbs
p; “Sometimes we have to embrace unpleasant truths, own them, and then grow from our insights,” Fandtha shares with her. “Who you were has made you who you are, but who you become is all that is important today.”
Beltare doesn't say anything; she only nods her head, ashamed.
Fandtha sighs, then reaches out to their private group channel. “We have met with Achi. He is willing to help, but only under certain provisions. The main issue is his fear of what we may choose to do with him and, uh, people like Clive and Cheryn. He is firm that we shall not remove them from Earth or alter them in any way from how they now are without their permission. He is exceedingly insightful but, ah, also a colossal pain in the ass. He's still inside Beltare's head—and probably mine too by now—and he is goading her, er, just to see if he can trust us. And, I think, to demonstrate how ill-prepared he believes we are to, uh, face this shell. In that, I think he is absolutely correct.” He looks over at Beltare, who is so inwardly focused, he isn't even sure she is listening. Great, they may have to consider her suitability to continue in this group. He sighs again.
“So as I see it, I, ah, don't think Clive or Cheryn are an issue; they are essentially as human as any other. Achi should have died eons ago, but he endures. That is unnatural, and he, uh, knows it. We caused that, and by right, should probably fix it. But I have no idea what 'fixing it' at this point even means. Do we kill him? Remove Zaleria's symbiots, er, effectively killing him, just naturally? Frankly, I'm not even sure we could. I, uh, think he has already anticipated that and set up defenses. He means to see humanity through the singularity, which is nearing. Perhaps the best bet is to, eh, just let him go until afterwards, and then it won't really make any difference. He is willing to help us destroy the shell, even if that causes his destruction. Considering his past, that, uh, has a high probably of occurrence, which would also render any action on our part moot. Thoughts?”
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