Chapter 2
“Old and Ancient”
The Savants are a sophisticated but cowardly race. In the Age of the Three Empires they surrendered to Golgoth without a fight. They eagerly made themselves useful. Pleasant, intelligent and loyal they became a trusted favorite of the servitor races. Their sages became valued tutors, advisors, assistants and even professors.
The Savants are tall and slender humanoids. It is believed they are a cousin of the Mystics. Their skin is pale, bluish beige. Their heart is on the right side of the middle of their bosom. Most are left handed. They have only four digits per extremity. Their blood is blue and they have a knack for magic. The face of a Savant is long and narrow on a long and narrow head. Its irises are large and bluish gray. Its hair is black and hangs from the top of its head as a ponytail.
Unlike the beautiful Mystics, the Savants are an ugly race. They are taller than most humans but shorter and scrawnier than their presumed cousins. Savants look feeble but the Sentinels tell me one is twice as strong as a human of the same weight.
The Savant Dr. Minmax told us, in his melodic but somewhat shrill voice, “Shadow Station 13 was a permanent facility built into the Rebusian ruins found in the apex of Rebus Region Zero. I was on the staff at this facility. I was among the last to evacuate. I assure you: the Hive has yet to discover our secret.”
I blurted, “A promise is a useless thing.” My Priestess glared at me.
Dr. Minmax smiled and nodded as if agreeing with me. He explained, “I am an illusionist. My primary duty at Shadow Station 13 was to ensure that it was undetectable. My devices are still operating, maintained by the station’s golem caretakers.”
Golems are magical “robots” of artificial flesh and blood. They were somewhat ubiquitous in the days of yore but fell out of common use as slave labor became plentiful.
Dr. Minmax continued, “Rebus began as a colony of Earth but eventually asserted its independence. So as to protect itself from the armies of Earth a means was developed to isolate Rebus from other worlds. So as to prevent subversive elements from opening portals to other worlds from Rebus: all records of base interstellar coordinates were suppressed.”
I deduced, “Shadow Station 13 was discovering the means of isolating a biosphere as a means of strategic defense.”
“Yes,” the alien gleamed as if proud of me. “A world so protected would be entirely safe from invasion.”
Meredith Blue wondered, “Why were the inhabitants of Rebus extinct when the planet was discovered by Golgoth?”
Dr. Minmax answered, “We do not know. It was deduced that secession from Earth was unpopular. Rebus is barely habitable and a civil war could render it less habitable. It is theorized that war and famine may have incited a mass exodus.”
Our Priestess, Zendanna Purple the Erudite, told us, “We leave tomorrow at noon. An entomopter loaded with everything we need shall await boarding just outside this building. Nothing discussed is to be mentioned or discussed until we are midair or at our destination. Dismissed.”
I so wanted to discuss everything with my sisters. I wanted to ask Dr. Minmax more questions. Alas, I was sent away to dwell on my ponderings in silence.
The Age of the Six Empires is the Concubines of the Great Seen Unseen and our faithful ally the People of the Third Eye (the Phantoms) competing with the Hive, the Mystic Confederacy, the Democratic Plutocracy of Lith and the Greater Humanity Empire for worlds and resources. Our struggles erupted into a Galactic War that slaughtered multitudes to no avail. No one yearns for such a nasty conflict ever again. The Penumbrans, a venerable race and the Chosen People of the Unheard Whisper, use their influence to keep the peace. Our mission could threaten that peace if things were not managed carefully. That said our success would be a strategic boon.
I fretted that we were betraying the grace of the Hive. I disliked the idea of using their permission to explore ruins against them. I reminded myself that Lady Dolorous mediated a peace between the High Priestess of my sisterhood and the Queen of the Hive. Lady Dolorous was striving to make peace between the Phantoms and the Hive as well. As allies the Hive would be beneficiaries of anything we discovered. Yes, though we were being secretive our actions were not unfriendly. I felt much better coming to such a revelation.
A giant “beetle” landed in front of our barracks. I boarded the aircraft, as did my Priestess, Dr. Minmax, a dozen Sentinels and three other Keepers. The entomopter shot back into the air before waiting for its tail ramp to shut. We sped out across open desert for hours before landing at an archaeological site. We refueled then resumed our journey. My Priestess explained to us, “A larger expedition may be preferable but we are hoping to avoid unwanted curiosity. Our small team should seem rather insignificant to any who happen to glimpse us.”
We eventually came to rocky hills. As we approached what appeared to be a barren hillside, I suddenly noticed what appeared to be modern architecture of titanium alloy and glass built into stone ruins. Dr. Minmax gleamed, “Hidden in plain sight by my magic.”
Our entomopter landed on a landing pad atop one of the modern protrusions. The tail ramp dropped. “Wait,” our Priestess told us. “Dr. Minmax still has recognized clearance. He must register our arrival so we don’t trigger automated defenses.” This mission was sounding more interesting already.
We waited for the Savant to return. “All is well,” he smiled. “The golems roaming about doing their assigned tasks shall take no notice of you lest you command them. They will obey your commands.”
Meredith Blue mentioned, “I’d love to study these golems.”
“No,” our Priestess ordered. “Let the golems do their work while we do ours.”
“Yes, ma’am,” my fellow Keeper pouted.
Zendanna Purple reminded our sister, “Golems are nothing new.”
“Why don’t we use any?”
“Because making sisters is cheaper.”
The flippant response of my Priestess reminded me of facts I learned out of morbid curiosity: one of the Many of One costs a thousand credits to make and a thousand credits a year to maintain. We pay for ourselves with unpaid labor. That said if we were produced in a society other than our communist theocracy we would cost ten thousand credits to make and a minimum of two thousand to maintain. Our pay would vary according to our profession. Then again, very few know the secrets of how we are made.
We are a true communist society. All of us work selflessly. I was surprised to learn from the Penumbrans that the gross domestic product of my sisterhood is worth only twelve trillion Imperial Credits. The decadent Greater Humanity Empire enjoys a gross domestic product of seventy-two trillion credits. That said the wealth of my sisterhood is enjoyed by all whereas the vast wealth of the Jingoans is hoarded by a few.
Like us, the golems caretaking Shadow Station 13 all looked and sounded exactly alike. Like us they were strange and bald. Unlike us, they were not human. They were made in the image of men with pale but otherwise flawless complexions. Their irises were as black as their pupils and their voice was nigh monotone. Their demeanor was eerily calm and accommodating. Dr. Minmax told us these fake men were all called “Bob.” One of these “Bob” fellows addressed me, “How may I help you, ma’am?” The thing was apparently smart enough to realize that I was lost and wandering.
“I’m trying to find operations.”
The thing pointed at an elevator and told me, “Third floor up and continue to the end of the corridor.”
“Thank you.”
The Bobs were uniformed in blue coveralls and were always busy. They smiled if you stared at them but the smile felt cold and aloof. They seemed to be ignoring me even when they acknowledged my existence. I felt as if this Shadow Station 13 was haunted by the ghosts of clone men still living lives long since over.
The “Babs” were the “female” golems. They were dressed as maids and had black bob hair. They too had solid black eyes and were coldly polite. “Babs were also used for sexual recrea
tion,” Dr. Minmax told us uninvited. “Golems have no sense of self so they do not suffer indignity.”
The Babs cleaned and prepared rooms for us. They cooked our meals. Bobs washed the dishes and swept and mopped the floors.
The golems grew grains and vegetables in an indoor farm. They raised livestock and poultry. Fruit trees planted outside were regularly tended. The food was for the consumption of the golems but a surplus was maintained should the human staff return. The swimming pool, gymnasium and recreation rooms were kept in order for the same reason. “These golems make our stay here rather pleasant,” my Priestess remarked.
We were not on vacation. We had much to study and record. Inscriptions were coordinates and formulae encrypted in the guise of monument or prose. Devices made of precious metals and stones were readily available but tricky to optimize. An ancient, crystalline computer powered by natural light proved very useful. I reported, “I believe the Golgothite researchers were overzealous. They seemed to have overanalyzed everything, thus, were confounded by tangents meant to lead unauthorized analysis astray.”
My Priestess fretted, “Perhaps there are revelations within these supposed tangents. We should be thorough.”
“Ma’am, we should be wary of making the same mistakes as our predecessors.”
Zendanna Purple thought for a moment before eventually deciding,
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