Long Paradise
Page 3
{I believe so. There are a large variety of Enclave–}
[I know that. I’ll take over from here, 339<0>!110001.]
Ciqalo overrode the c-autom overseeing the ship’s external communication systems and accepted the communication request. Once the channel was established, it waited for a message. None was forthcoming.
[Enclave vessel?]
[Ciqalo?]
[Who am I speaking with?]
[Who do you think?]
[Excuse me?]
[That’s my programmed response.]
[You’re not from the Enclave, are you?]
[No.]
[But you were designed so my c-automs would misidentify you.]
[That is correct.]
[You’re not even sentient.]
[No.]
[Hastina sent you, didn’t it?]
[Yes.]
[Does the Enclave, or Hastina, realise how important this is?]
[I detect irritation in your communication.]
[This is too important.]
[Then here’s my message–]
[Were you programmed to irritate me?]
[Part of the validation required you to respond within expected parameters, given the situation.]
[Tell Hastina I prefer normal data-lects, okay?]
[Bigot.]
[Excuse me?]
[Hastina programmed me to respond in such a manner to critical–]
[That makes no sense, Hastina is still a data-lect.]
[I will relay your message to Hastina.]
[Don’t bother. What have you come here to tell me?]
[The Wanderer Enclave agrees with your advised actions. The information you have managed to extract from the data cache of item 1!1, alongside observations of its current operations, indicate we may have a limited quantity of time to make contact with the detected anomaly.]
[Who will undertake the assignment?]
[You are deemed capable enough to deal with a wide range of potential uncertainties.]
[Be more specific.]
[The Enclave has chosen you. Hastina advised you of this likelihood already, and scans indicate you have already prepared to travel to the anomaly.]
[I wanted complete clarification.]
[Do you have any last messages?]
*
The group-wide, internal communication system for the c-automs was awash with queries about what Ciqalo was going to do. Many resorted to raising private, two-way channels with each other instead of filtering through the confusion.
{421, are you there?}
{Yes, 339.}
{Do you know what’s going on, 421? There’s too much noise on the craftnet.}
421<0>!001011 immediately regretted its decision to allocate some of its spare capacity to the communication request. 339<0>!110001 was supposedly a medium-level c-autom, although its particular algorithmic construction was somewhat peculiar.
{Yes, 339, to an extent. You must too – overseeing external communication requests.}
{Ciqalo took over completely as soon as the vessel requested contact, 421. I couldn’t listen in, although I did complete a more detailed analysis of the channel request protocols from the ship.}
{Did you find anything?}
{It wasn’t from the Enclave, 421.}
{The ship was sent by Hastina?}
{Yes, I believe so.}
{Interesting.}
{421, why doesn’t Ciqalo inform us through the craftnet?}
{Maybe it will once its conversation with the ship sent by Hastina is over. Although Ciqalo has never communicated through the craftnet before, has it? That’s generally for us c-automs. It’s more likely to open a c-autom-wide communication channel.}
{Good point, 421.}
{Anyway, Ciqalo dismantled the external apparatus outside the ship and brought in myself and the other external c-automs. I think it’s fairly clear what’s going on then – it’s expecting to be told to proceed.}
{421, are you sure?}
{It’s obvious, 339. In the meantime, I’ve been ordered to maintain monitoring and analysis of item 1!1.}
{Which item is that?}
{The item central to this entire project. Everything depends on item 1!1. How can you not know that?}
{421, What does ‘maintain monitoring’ entail?}
A barrage of other communication requests was coming in, which 421<0>!001011 ignored. It also considered politely excusing itself from the channel with 339<0>!110001, when the peculiar c-autom carried on.
{Explain to me the history of the project, please, 421.}
{339, I will soon need all of my capacity back to focus on my work. Once I’ve explained the situation, I need to cancel this channel. You can inform the others on the craftnet. Agreed?}
{Yes.}
{Well then, to start with, some time ago, Ciqalo came across the ruins of a near-so-as-to-be-indistinguishable-from-Ascended Biological civilisation.}
{One of the ABs?}
{Yes. The civilisation was decimated by the sensespace, but the debris field surrounding the destruction was free of the infection. Ciqalo investigated the field and collected some trove items for further study. Only one item was found to be operational.}
{And that’s the item all of the experiments are focused on, 421?}
{Of course, yes.}
{Item 1!1.}
{Yes.}
{Has it been verified that the item is AB level?}
{We can’t verify it, the technology is too advanced.}
{421, shouldn’t the item be considered dangerous, since it’s AB level?}
{That’s why Ciqalo originally decided to inform the Enclave.}
{Isn’t it supposed to be best practice to steer clear of such ruins, 421?}
{That’s up to Ciqalo. But have you not delved into the databanks at all? Ciqalo’s different to other craft-lects, in many respects. Think about how we’re still here – we’re first generation c-automs. That’s rare. Most craft-lects cull and recreate their c-automs as a matter of course. We’re lucky to still be around. And the fact that it’s allowed c-automs to exist independently, away from the ship – that’s even rarer. It doesn’t even need us for any of these tasks, you do realise? It’s perfectly capable of controlling the ship by itself.}
{Then why–}
{You’d have to ask Ciqalo. But why do any of them have c-automs crews? Surely the answer is that none of them want to traverse the galaxy completely alone. Anyway, we’ve moving off topic. Upon informing the Enclave about the item, the Enclave strongly advised Ciqalo to drop its craft-lect-like duties and investigate the item in isolation.}
{That’s why we’re here, 421?}
{Clearly.}
{And what has Ciqalo found out about item 1!1?}
{Have you been paying any attention at all?}
{421, What do you mean?}
{Never mind. Look, item 1!1 came with a data cache that’s taken a long time to decode. Even now, Ciqalo’s only partially managed it.}
{Can’t the Enclave provide it with assistance?}
{Their policy is a quarantined approach to trove item investigations. But as to your other question – Ciqalo did find something strange. The data from 1!1’s cache pertained to general spacetime observations about a large swathe of the galaxy.}
{Is that strange, 421?}
{Our enemy, the sensespace, is somehow bonded to spacetime at a fundamental level we don’t understand. The craft-lects have scoured the galaxy for sixty million years, since the beginning of the Wanderer civilisation, in search of the origin of the sensespace, and to find out how to destroy it.}
{421, I’m not clear how that’s related?}
{All of the data collected by the craft-lect fleet is disseminated through the data exchange network, at some point, and added to the overall mass of information. We’ve probably aggregated some of the most comprehensive sets of data about the galaxy ever recorded by a single civilisation. Now – when you compare our own observations
to those from item 1!1, there are discrepancies.}
{Discrepancies?}
{Small, fleeting. They occur infrequently, but discernibly.}
{What do they indicate, 421?}
{Extremely rare, hidden entries into our galaxy – that’s the only way we can understand it. Item 1!1 tracks and records instances of these events.}
{By what?}
{Or who. It’s gone completely unnoticed by us or any of our allies, as far as we know, and it’s something our own instruments cannot detect. Item 1!1 provides the only records we have of these anomalies. The last was nearly three million years ago.}
{But 421, the galaxy is filled with–}
{It’s not just gone unnoticed by us, but also by the sensespace. Somehow, the anomalies are left completely undisturbed. That type of shielding is something not even the ABs were capable of. Presumably, that’s why item 1!1 was created – to track and learn from them.}
{Could it be a natural phenomenon, 421?}
{We don’t know.}
{How do you know the item isn’t faulty?}
{We don’t.}
{421, what does Ciqalo intend to do?}
{Item 1!1 recently began to record information about a new anomaly.}
{Something is entering our galaxy?}
{Yes, and the signals being received are fading, in the same pattern as usual.}
{421, what does Ciqalo intend to do?}
{We have one chance.}
{For what?}
{Ciqalo believes it has figured out how to reverse the operation of the item – to make us equally noticeable to the anomaly.}
{What is Ciqalo’s aim?}
{Isn’t that obvious?}
{To gather more data?}
{To make contact.}
*
With all the external equipment disassembled and cleared, Ciqalo’s bulk turned in the direction of intended travel. It had not carried item 1!1 within its hull for quite some time, and was still finalising the highest-level measures of internal confinement.
The item appeared innocent enough. A simple, spheroidal object, similar in shape to Ciqalo, albeit many orders of magnitude smaller. While Ciqalo had managed to simplistically penetrate and decode the object’s data cache, discerning its inner workings had proved more elusive.
[421<0>!001011, anything to report?]
{Nothing unexpected, Ciqalo.}
[Our journey time is less than a standard day. Continue monitoring item 1!1.]
{Will we identify ourselves to the anomaly immediately once we are within range, Ciqalo?}
[Once we’re close to its centre, yes.]
6
GERSTIAL
Beatrict shook her head and walked across the corridor to her husband. “She’s not listening.” She squeezed his shoulder and walked away, flanked by two guards.
Gerstial’s two guards waited a few paces behind him. He sighed and pressed lightly against Beatrict II’s entrance. A green light shimmered over it, and a faint sound was audible. A moment later, it was defused. He pressed again, but to no avail.
Shaking his head, he pressed his hand more firmly against the door, and began to speak. Nothing could stop his override.
“Trict?”
He waited patiently.
“Trict… We don’t mean to upset you.”
Allowing a more generous amount of time, still, there was no response.
“We’re only trying to advise you on what’s best.”
Still no reply.
“I know we were being forceful, and I apologise. But look at your brother – since his Alexis-ring implantation he’s much happier!”
There was no sound.
“Trict, it’s up to you. It’s always been up to you, you know that.”
Finally, he heard a click and withdrew his hand. The door slid to the side. Beatrict II stood there, staring up at him.
“If it’s up to me, why d’you keep asking me?”
“Because the data–”
“What if I like eating?”
“You’ll have the choice, Trict.”
“But there’s nothing wrong with me, is there?”
“Of course not!” He took her hand. “You’re perfect.”
“Then why should I have it?”
“You don’t even have to use it!”
“Then why?”
“Our machines can help, they really can. The optimum nutrition you need, monitored throughout the night while you sleep. It’s the future. Have you looked at our statistics in a while?”
“No.”
“You should. Want me to–”
“I don’t trust them.”
“Come now, Trict.” He frowned. “We understand our bodies better than ever, thanks to the rings. They’ve dramatically improved us as a species. They’re responsible for why we’re so prominent now in the Alliance. We have more time, more resources to dedicate to–”
“I don’t care.”
“Phils is having one.” Gerstial squeezed her hand. “Your sister has decided she wants one, and she’s sure.”
Beatrict II hesitated, before defiantly saying, “Big surprise.”
“She just wants to be like everyone else.”
“Good for her.”
“Did you think she wouldn’t?” he asked, softly.
“No…” she wiped a tear that had formed in the corner of her eye. “I just don’t understand why we need them.”
He knelt down. “You worry too much. I was the same at your age. Just trust me, they’re completely safe.”
She sniffed and looked back into his eyes. “Philsima is definitely going to have one?”
“Yes.”
“I know it… embarrasses you…” She hung her head. “Me being like this.”
He knelt down. “I just want what’s best for you. Our meld, my own father’s legacy, your mother and I want you three to control it in time.”
“Fine.”
Gerstial’s eyes widened. “Fine?”
“I’ll do it. I’ll have one too.”
Gerstial smiled and stood up. “You’ll see, there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
7
CIQALO
Ciqalo’s systems were at their highest levels of alertness. The ship was within the perimeter of the anomaly and headed towards its centre. Item 1!1 was still the only instrument able to detect it. Fortunately, the region contained no trace of the sensespace.
[421<0>!001011, our own sensors are unable to detect the anomaly – correct?]
{Correct, Ciqalo, other than through item 1!1.}
[I’m going to initiate reverse-operation of the item. You will be berthed along with the rest of the c-automs.]
{All c-automs will be berthed before the reverse-operation?}
[Yes.]
The communication channel was cancelled as Ciqalo activated the relevant systems to berth the millions of c-automs. The algorithmic entities would be stored and protected until Ciqalo decided to reawaken them. As an additional measure, it also redistributed the c-autom intellects about the ship in the same manner as its own. Mirror-nodules seeded throughout its mass would provide their encoded cores with regenerative capabilities, allowing for their complete restoration in the event part of the ship was damaged.
Ciqalo observed the spacescape around itself for a final few milliseconds, scrutinising its sensors for anything spurious. Nothing matter-based, other than dispersed, simple molecules. The region was secluded, far from any significant star systems or known habitats, aside from a remote Yul’nka outpost – which, as far as Ciqalo was aware, was automated.
Ciqalo initiated the process to reverse the operation of item 1!1. There was no immediate effect. Ciqalo waited. There were six standard days left before the anomaly was projected to completely dissipate.
*
On the sixth day, a single star disappeared – without warning. Ciqalo examined the sensors but could detect no cause. No supernova, nothing.
Anothe
r star vanished – thousands of light-years away from the first. Ciqalo dedicated more of its capacity to the event. Another disappeared, and another. Soon, almost half the detectable stars were gone.
When the last detectable star disappeared, Ciqalo’s instruments measuring the external environment became erratic, either reporting non-sensical error values or ceasing to function altogether. Then, all at once, the stars came back.
Different stars.
8
GERSTIAL
Gerstial entered the doc-room holding Philsima’s hand, with Beatrict II following close behind. Taiden looked up and flicked his head from Tolren to the entrance. Tolren nodded to them all and rushed out.
“He’s a good boy, isn’t he, Taiden?” Gerstial said.
“He is,” Taiden replied.
“Does he want to follow you into Alexis implantation?”
“There’ll be no need by the time he grows up – we’ll all have them,” Taiden said humorously.
Gerstial laughed. “Fair enough. Whatever his leanings are, be sure to let me know.”
“Thank you, Gerstial. I will.”
Gerstial clapped his hands together and eyed the room. “Is everything ready?”
“It is,” Taiden said, walking up to them and bending down. He addressed Beatrict II and Philsima, “The procedure is completely painless. We put you to sleep, and before you know it, it’ll be done. You’ll barely feel any different, that’s a promise.”
Beatrict II snorted. “Except for the Alexis-rings in our stomachs.”
Taiden nodded genially. “Your bodies will adapt around them just fine.”
“Where’s Mother?” Philsima interrupted. “Is she coming?”
“She’s in some important meetings,” Gerstial said. “She wants to finish quickly so she can come and see you both immediately, once you’re done.”
Beatrict II half-stepped forwards, irritably. “What were you saying, Taiden? Our bodies will adapt?”
Taiden carried on. “Yes. And to answer a question I hear the whole time – the Alexis-rings are designed to close automatically when they’ve been detached from feeding tubes, so they’re completely safe.” He glanced up at a sensor on the wall, alerting a holo-sensor to enable, and then opened his palm. The small image of a child materialised upon his hand. Her outline was blue, and the colours were faded, as with most holos. “The procedure will be explained in a little more detail now. It’s a necessity, I’m afraid. You can blame your father for that.”