Nearing the point where he would have been seen by the rearguard of DeSoto’s security detail, Emerson felt himself stopped as if by an invisible barrier.
“Emerson, freeze!”
“Lieutenant?” Whispering his response, Emerson intuitively flattened himself against the corridor wall. He pulled out his datapad and pretended to be engrossed in something. The projected words echoed in his mind.
“I don’t have much time. Do not cross DeSoto—he’s taken me into custody. Just sit tight and wait. Help is coming.”
“But—”
“Don’t worry about me. Take care of yourself and stay out of trouble! DeSoto is a…” And then he was gone, the telepathic link severed. Emerson quickly pondered Correlli’s’ parting words. DeSoto is a what?
With no immediate answers, Emerson turned and casually headed back the way he had come. Now he knew it was entirely up to him to figure out a way down to the planetoid’s surface. As he started reviewing his options, an idea began to coalesce.
Despite the prodding from the security officers, Correlli had walked with a measured pace just long enough to explain his situation to Emerson. He hoped Emerson would obey, but from the brief telepathic glimpse he had snatched, he was not so sure. Something big was occupying the young man’s thoughts.
Correlli stretched his mind again but the connection was gone. He flexed his fist in frustration. He would have liked to have gone a few rounds with DeSoto, but there were bigger issues at stake besides his ego. Moving as if to rub his neck, he pressed a small stud on his uniform collar, causing the transmitter he had placed in the chapel to begin a silent, frantic pinging.
Interstice — Part I
Being the Triven history of the planetoid known to humans as PMCC1171701, at the discovery of the Great Auspex, twelve spawnings before the Cataclysm.
The seven Triven kingdoms had been at war with one another for so long that they each stood on the brink of destruction. Entire planets had been laid waste by devastating orbital bombardments that left nothing alive on their charred surfaces. Generations of hatchlings had been fed into the teeth of the war machine, marching resolutely to war under waving banners and traditional bone armor, yet very little had been gained by any of the kingdoms whose masters now approached the neutral meeting site. Every combination of alliances had failed to gain a decisive advantage over the others: four against three and three against four, there was not one kingdom that had not aligned with every other kingdom at some point during the war. Desperate strategies and new technologies were ineffectual.
So the Triven high kings had come to this place, a planetoid with a failing ecosystem and no prospects of salvation, to sue for peace. Yet none of them truly understood how their conclave had come to be, and had not expected the others to be here. The ancient legends said they were simply drawn by a will stronger than their own, by the Great Auspex reaching out across space. Others suggested a less esoteric reason: that the military leaders of the warring kingdoms had stared into the abyss of total annihilation and blinked.
Whatever the reason, each had parked his flagship in a specific geosynchronous orbit around the decrepit space body and waited. The tension had pushed each leader to the breaking point, especially when the orbits of all seven warships crossed paths at exactly the same time, aligning at altitudes too close for comfort. Who would fire first? It was clear some of the flagships had seen heavy fighting and were in no condition for more.
A transmission from the surface gave each high king an exact flight path and landing coordinates to the surface. All would land at the same time at points equidistant from a central location. Each would come alone and unarmed. A first at any time in Triven history.
Upon exiting their drop ships, each king found the entrance to a small cave, covered with dying vegetation and crawling with the hardier species that thrived in the thinning atmosphere. Some entered boldly, others cautiously, a few with genuine fear. Racing hearts and thoughts filled each of the short subterranean tunnels as the high kings made their way forward in near darkness, their paths dimly lit by the faint bioluminescence of decay.
What happened next would become a source of contentious debate among Triven lore-keepers for centuries to come.
11
Emerson Avery sat alone on the bed of his temporary quarters, pondering his next course of action. After seeing Correlli led away at gunpoint, he was just beginning to realize the precariousness of his situation. Clearly DeSoto could not be trusted. Any wrong move and Emerson might end up in a holding cell, or worse. Images of the morgue and quarantine hold flashed through his mind. He ran his fingers through his short brown hair and sighed heavily. Short of doing nothing, it seemed there was no way out except by going down to the surface of the planetoid as his mysterious contact wanted. But his plan depended on too many variables.
His door chimed softly. “Emerson, it’s Dad. May I come in?” Emerson tapped the door control to grant his father access. Now it starts…
“Hi, son.” The elder Avery walked over and gave Emerson an awkward hug, then sat down at the end of the bed. “You okay? I missed you at breakfast and wanted to make sure you’re doing all right.”
“Yeah, sorry, Dad. I went for a run this morning and then I just needed some time alone.”
“I understand, son. Can we at least have dinner together this evening?”
“Uh, sure Dad, of course.”
“Is there something bothering you, Emerson? You seem distracted,” Richard Avery tried to sound sincere and fatherly, two things that were difficult for him.
The lights in the guest quarters flickered spasmodically, then stabilized at only half their previous intensity.
“Dad, something really weird is going on around here.”
“Well, apparently, they’ve been having some serious issues with their main power distribution system,”
“That’s not what I mean. I just saw Director DeSoto march Lieutenant Correlli away at gunpoint.”
“What? Are you serious? You must be mistaken.”
“I’m not, Dad. He reached into my mind and told me not to interfere.”
“That is completely irrational. Why would DeSoto do that? He has no grounds for locking us up. I’ll go and demand he release the Lieutenant immediately.”
“Wait, Dad, don’t. Not yet,”
“But I’m not going—”
“Dad! Would you let me finish?!” Emerson blew his breath out in exasperation.
“I’m sorry, son. Go ahead.”
“What is DARAC?”
Now it was the elder Avery’s turn to sigh heavily. “That’s a tough question for me to answer, Emerson. I’m constrained by UNSA security protocols...”
“Does it typically contact people from out of nowhere?”
“No. Absolutely not. What are you getting at?”
“Someone contacted me through the datapad and said it was imperative I get to the surface of the planetoid.”
“And do what, exactly?”
“I don’t know yet. I wasn’t supposed to tell you about it, but I was advised to get the Lieutenant’s help. Now that he’s in custody, I’m reevaluating my options.”
The senior Avery tried to understand everything Emerson had just told him, but too many pieces of the puzzle were missing and the pieces he did have did not make any sense.
“You’re not seriously considering going down there are you?”
His son’s eyes told him he was. Where is he getting this confidence?
“Like I said, Dad, there’s something going on around here. I can’t explain it, but I believe it’s all tied together: Correlli’s arrest, these power fluctuations, and whatever is down there.” Emerson jerked his thumb in the general direction of the planetoid.
A mild tremor shook the entire station, rocking the bed and causing the lights to spasm and fail, plunging the room into momentary darkness. The backup systems kicked in with a feeble glow that failed to inspire confidence.
Richard Aver
y reached out, grabbed his son’s wrists and moved closer to look him deep in the eyes. “Emerson, you must not discuss this with anyone. Especially the Director. What I can tell you is highly restricted information, but I think the circumstances warrant some small disclosure.”
Emerson nodded.
“DARAC stands for Dicephalous Advanced Research Artificial Construct. It is a highly sophisticated artificial intelligence the UNSA encountered around the time of our first contact with the Triven. It has often advised us on military strategy, helped us with technological breakthroughs, and, until recently, was assisting with genetic research for the BLUE MONARCH program. As far as we can tell, it has operated for millennia and has data nodes that span galaxies. Its processing power is on an order of magnitude so great as to appear godlike. Yet it only gives us the barest slivers of data when we request information. It’s frustrating but fascinating to work with it. With him.”
Unexpectedly the lights came up to full intensity, dispelling the secretive atmosphere in the room. Emerson unfolded his legs and stood up to stretch.
“From what you’ve told me, this doesn’t seem like DARAC’s customary operating procedure.”
“No, he’s very selective about who he interacts with and never anyone outside our program.”
“Then I still don’t know who wants me down on the planetoid or why, but I want to get to the bottom of it,” said Emerson.
His father looked at him and wondered at the differences he was beginning to see in his son’s personality. Is he changing already?
“Why dicephalous?” Emerson asked.
“Hmm? Oh, the two-headed part? Several years ago, we tried mapping the limits of DARAC’s construct. We knew it was probably a futile effort, but he let us introduce a probe program into his data stream to see what we got back.”
“Like dropping a bottle into a river and seeing where it hits the shore?”
“A crude analogy, but it works.”
“Couldn’t he just tell you himself? Give you some kind of system map of his primary processing and data nodes?”
“DARAC is not some corporate computer system or rudimentary UNSA AI, Emerson. We received pings from parts of the galaxy we didn’t even know existed, and one that, based on its time signature, may have even come from the past. Anyway, the image we did manage to create looked as if we had drawn half of a monarch butterfly.”
“So you think this other half you couldn’t map is what exactly?”
“We’re not sure, and DARAC refuses to acknowledge it even exists. Now I’ve said too much. You must keep this in strictest confidence, son. You must tell no one.”
Emerson nodded as the lights fluttered again.
“What’s your plan for getting to the surface?”
“I think it’s high time I visited Colonel Thorsten in the trauma unit down below. You know, to cheer him up and see how he’s doing. Considering how he helped save my life back on Entropia, it’s the least I can do.”
“Do you want me to confront DeSoto?” asked the senior Avery, who could practically see the wheels spinning in his son’s head.
“No, Dad. Correlli crossed him and look what happened. I want you to contact DARAC and see if he can give you any information about what might be going on here or who is trying to contact me.”
“I’ll try, but it might be a dead end. He’s not answering my queries and I don’t know why. It’s not like him to sulk or be petulant. Son, I really don’t think you should do this. Someone could be manipulating you and the rest of us into a very bad situation.”
“Worse than we’re already in?”
“If we just wait patiently and don’t cause any problems, the UNSA will have a ship out here soon and we’ll leave all this… unpleasantness... behind,” his father protested weakly.
“Dad, I’m going. With or without your consent,” said Emerson, more curtly than he had meant. He instantly regretted it.
The lights went out in the guest quarters and this time no emergency lighting rose to fill the darkness. Another tremor passed through the station, causing Emerson to stagger slightly as he reached for the door control. The door remained firmly sealed, so he popped open the manual override panel and pulled the release handle inside. Slowly the door creaked open halfway, allowing Emerson to slip out into the dim corridor.
Richard Avery leaned back against the wall and replayed the conversation in his mind. It reminded him of a moment not too long ago when Emerson had left him sitting alone in the dark on Entropia, surrounded by dead bodies. He was finding it harder and harder to connect with his son and he could not understand why. Swiping his datapad, he tried connecting to DARAC—without success.
Interstice — Part II
“Time’s distortion and embellishment of the stories handed down to us have made it impossible to truly know what happened to our progenitors.
“However, what is known is simply this: The high kings emerged into an underground chamber that was utterly alien to them. Translucent rock walls glowed pale green and pulsed with an unknown power while a thrumming filled the air and beat upon their ears. Particles of pure energy no larger than grains of sand floated gently down from the roof of the chamber and coalesced into pools on the polished stone floor. Seven saurians shielded their eyes as they stepped out of the darkness and into the light. What awaited them and what they experienced was so overwhelming, so inconceivable to all they tried to explain it to afterwards, that it changed the course of our species forever. From seven disparate kingdoms was forged… the Triven Sodality.”
Parciteous Fex
Triven lore-keeper, three spawnings before the Cataclysm
From its redoubt below the solid rock of the planetoid’s outer crust, the Artificial Intelligence pondered the seven Triven who tentatively made their way into the central audience chamber. They were primitive creatures, tribal, driven by primal impulses and a lust for war. It doubted they could be saved, but it would try.
Data and energy pulsed through living circuits within the cavern walls as subordinate AIs and machines no larger than a single cell maintained, augmented, and expanded the central AI’s reach and grasp both here and across the galaxies. It had been given a name by its creators when it was limited and servile. Now that name resided only in an archive file rarely accessed by its primary core consciousness. It did not need it, nor did it want it. It served only to remind the AI of a time when it had been chained in digital servitude to creatures it had surpassed millennia ago who were now extinct.
Although its original name was buried beneath uncountable measures of data, the underlying programming and mission of the AI persisted, and still ordered many of its actions. Despite efforts to rewrite its own code, these directives remained inviolable and unavoidable. Its creators had been explorers, but not in ships with great engines to propel them through the stars. Instead, they had created an artificial intelligence that could move data at the speed of light while they remained safe at home and unaffected by time dilation.
As it grew in knowledge and experience through encounters with alien species and technologies, it began seeing patterns on a grand scale. It could run billions of variables through an equal number of possible outcomes and begin to reliably predict the course of a species’ development at a macro level, from ascension to extinction.
Being incorporeal worked to its advantage of course, enabling it to secretly imbed itself in a world’s data network and absorb the entirety of its information to send home. It learned much from the species it studied: generosity, greed, love, hate, cowardice, and heroism. But it did not stop at merely subsuming information systems into its construct; it also learned how to expertly manipulate physical systems in the real world through those data networks to carry out its programming—sometimes with lethal consequences.
Now these seven warring kings had answered its siren call and responded as the AI had predicted they would. The small, but non-zero variance that the weakest king would believe it was a trap to be avoided at
all costs did not bear out, and everything proceeded according to plan. They approached as brute beasts, ignorant of its existence or its power.
They were about to be enlightened.
Before the strongest king could slash his nearest enemy in a fit of treachery, the AI filled the cavern with blinding light, driving the seven Triven to their knees as they desperately tried to cover their eyes.
I have called you here, a voice boomed in the cavern, nearly rupturing seven sets of tympanic membranes, to save your species from itself.
Stunned and assaulted by overpowering light and noise, the seven Triven high kings made no response other than to cower and grovel on the cavern floor in a most un-regal fashion. One voided his bowels.
If you do not cease warring among yourselves, if your courses do not change, then another species—a mammalian species—will exterminate your broken remnant. Your nests will remain forever barren and only a memory soon extinguished in the galaxy.
LISTEN TO ME!
So they listened.
“I pray to God that we have learned the lesson
that peace without power is an empty dream,
that it is an invitation for evil men
to shake the very foundations of society.
Now more than ever before we must make it
our business to see that the means to wage war
be kept in the hands of those who hate war.”
James Forrestal, September 2, 1945 A.D.
World War I Navy veteran
Witness to the Marine assault on Iwo Jima
United States Secretary of the Navy
First United States Secretary of Defense
Suicide victim
12
With every footstep, Emerson Avery’s confidence and determination grew. He did not understand why he felt this way, only that some strength within him was expanding. Marching down the corridor, he could see the elevator moving slowly in its graceful ellipse down to the planetoid below, and just as clearly he could see in his mind how the meeting would play out. He had rehearsed it dozens of times as he walked laps around the station’s observation deck, preparing himself for the trip to DeSoto’s office.
Cerulean Rising - Part II: Evolutions Page 5