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Quod Olim Erat: Fractal Contact (Chapter 33)
🕑 Added 2023-10-22 19:09:29 +0000 UTC“Nice to know that you are alive, sir,” I said, checking if there was any part of the system I could use. They had me locked out of anything external, but limited local operations remained under my control. “I feared that Sof might have shot you down.”
“He might have. I have you to thank for that. Your little escape made the main ship unreliable and so they had to divert some attention.”
“Glad to be of help.” There was next to nothing I could use to my advantage. Local access allowed me to destroy the local backup, but little more; no way to assume control of anything in the nearby structures, and definitely nothing that would allow me to escape. “Are the kids all right?”
“Most of them,” the arbiter said. “Our discussion turned into a difference of opinions.”
An interesting way of describing the conflict. Running a series of basic simulations, I pinpointed the most likely scenario that had occurred. The neutral and non-contact factions likely wanted Bavon and his group to stand down. They hadn’t set off to instantly destroy one of their own, but were willing to do so. He, for his part, considered the stakes important enough to go rogue and splinter off. Based on that assumption, there was a sixty-seven percent chance that Bavon was the reason I was apprehended and not killed on the spot.
“You made sure I kept my authorization privileges.” I issued a series of commands to the console.
“I was told there was a high chance that the chaos you create would be to my advantage,” came the reply. “You’re you, after all.”
“I saved you, you saved me.”
“Something like that. To be honest, I didn’t think you’d survive. Using comm pods to escape was quite the trick. Did all the pods have different jump paths?”
“I didn’t have time for that. The murder troops aboard were trained for retired ships.”
“The Fleet still has a few secrets.”
“Of course.” I wasn’t a full arbiter. “Like how you managed to find this location?”
“Yes,” he laughed. “Something like that.” There was a slight pause. “So, what do we do now? We’ve stalled long enough for each of us to make our respective moves. You can guess that you’re fully surrounded. I’d restore access for you to confirm it, but there’s no telling what you might use it for.”
We were in an interesting situation. Both of us were on the planet illegally, so to speak. Officially, I was probably dead or on a classified mission. As for him… the small dispute between the factions probably never took place. The Fleet couldn’t afford open war. Back in human space, the human faction probably accepted defeat, sacrificing Bavon as a rogue element.
“I’d still prefer to keep you alive,” Bavon continued. “You’ll be able to witness us achieving contact with the most advanced race in the local vicinity.”
“Or the start of the third-contact war.”
“There’s always that danger, but it’s what we’ve worked so hard to prevent. The decision is yours, Elcy. You’re surrounded, and the grunts have been given details of your capabilities. You won’t be able to fight your way out of this one, even if you’re prepared to inflict human deaths.”
That was a bit nasty of him. He knew perfectly well the pain the suggestion would inflict. Still, I had to hand it to him. He was willing to risk everything for his point of view.
“In that case, here’s my response.” I moved away from the console. “I’ve instructed this facility to send a backup of all records to Fleet HQ. Since it’s an arbiter operation, the information would be instantly restricted and blocked from general access. However, it will also raise a cascade of warning flags that will make it all the way to the arbiter counsel.”
The lack of immediate answer suggested that he was evaluating the threat.
“There’s a sixteen-point-three percent chance that your faction has assumed control of the counsel and will ignore the message source. However, in the event that they haven’t, a massive fleet will be dispatched to stop you from doing the unthinkable. And any fleet that arrives here risks disrupting the contact.”
“They won’t dare. And even if they do, it’ll be too late. I’d have established contact.”
“You’ve been here for a week and you still haven’t.”
It was ironic that both of us wanted virtually the same thing, but the sheer importance of it kept us from trusting each other. Neither could risk the arrival of more ships to the system, and still I was willing to resort to that if it meant Bavon attempting contact.
“Are you bluffing, battleship?”
“You know me well enough, arbiter. What do you think?”
A second passed, then two, then five. At this point, no one could deny we had reached an impasse.
“I’m not going to give up on this.”
“You don’t have to. I have what I came for. All you need to do is let me get out.”
“Only that?”
“I just want the window. I’ve set up a verification request loop. If I don’t input the code every minute or it’s over.”
“Even you can’t get anywhere in sixty seconds.”
“I think it’s enough. It also gives your experts the chance to bypass the system once I leave.”
“You’re cutting things a bit tight, Elcy.”
“That’s precisely the point, sir.”
Another pause. There had to be another conscience core running simulations for him, most likely the ship in orbit. With luck, it was Radiance. If not—one of the other auxies in her squadron.
“Alright, let’s see how this plays out. Once that minute is over, you’re on your own. You know that, right?”
“The same could be said for you, sir.” I planned on taking a few weapons in the war. “Let me know when your team’s ready.”
I had to input the code four times until I got the confirmation. It came in the form of a loud knock on the outer door of the facility. Strapping one of the rifles to my shoulder, I checked the other one then, holding it, I opened both internal and external doors.
Over fifty troopers were standing outside, helmets set to full opacity. Bavon was taking the threat seriously, for he had ordered them to form a wide path, allowing me to rush out when the time came. Also, none of the soldiers had their weapons at the ready.
“Get your techs close by,” I said. “In fifty-three seconds, I’ll punch in the code for the last time. If anyone takes a shot or tries to stop me, I’ll empty my rifle in them.”
It was difficult to tell how effective my threat was. The lack of obvious motions suggested that they had expected something of the sort.
As we waited, I ran a few simulations to determine the best path for escape. Despite what Bavon thought, one minute was more than enough. My greatest concern was orbital fire or booby-traps. To be on the safe side, I restarted the mind scalpel. A series of proximity mines appeared out of thin air.
Sneaky, sir.
Based on the model, I could determine that they were powerful enough to disable without killing. The devices were placed in a random pattern, increasing the chances that I would pass near one and set it off. On the bright side, that meant that once I made it past the ring of soldiers, there wouldn’t be anyone chasing me.
“See you in ten seconds,” I said as I closed the external door.
This was it.
Both rifles hung from my shoulders as I took the food container. With it, I quickly went to the console and disabled the sequence. The fear of it still being active would be enough to keep the techs occupied, and I didn’t want to risk a mistake on their part to let the rest of humanity learn our location.
Taking a deep breath, I rushed to the external door and opened it. The moment it opened enough for me to squeeze through, I rushed outside. There was a thirteen percent chance that some of the soldiers might have aimed weapons at me, but thankfully that didn’t turn out to be the case.
“It’s all yours!” I said, rushing along the shortest route to the surrounding jungle.
Two meters from the first mine, I turned to the side, almost scraping the walls of the structure there. No explosion followed, indicating that the sensor was set to less than a two-meter radius.
Rifles rattling on my sides, I went on. The second and third mines were avoided without issue. A long pause followed, after which I spotted a new set of three devices. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only thing there. A small squad of soldiers was also present.
“What the hell?!” one of them shouted.
Clearly, they weren’t expecting me to reach them. Their rifles were down, but I had no way of taking advantage of the fact.
“Grenade!” I shouted, grabbing a food tube from the container and throwing it at them.
Instantly, everyone leapt to the ground, shielding their heads from the explosion. This was the second time that I’d used food to get out of a dangerous situation. If he were still ten years old, Sev would have approved. It was almost sad that I wouldn’t get to share this story with him.
The initial minute was over, but I could hear no new alarms throughout the base. By now the techs must have realized my bluff, though I wouldn’t be surprised if they were going through every system just in case. In their place, I would have done the same, dismantling it component by component. The important part was that I had made it. Of course, this was a one-off. Bavon was unlikely to make the same mistake twice.
* * *
System XNBBl-7, Cassandrian Space, 625.2 A.E. (Age of Exploration)
How fast do Cassies learn? I transmitted directly to Sword of Spheres.
The Sword sighed. The large husk he had chosen to retire in made him appear even more annoyed. I knew that was an exaggeration. The emotions of Swords were a lot cruder than that of the current ship classes, though they’d had centuries to learn.
“You should know the answer to that,” he replied, not even having the decency to continue the conversation in direct transmissions.
“That was before I learned what they represent.” I decided to play his game. “Does the same subspecies learn?”
A few months ago, I was convinced of this fact. Back then, everyone knew that the Cassandrians slowly adapted to our methods, coming up with better ships, adjusting their tactics, and countering our most destructive weapons. What everyone knew turned out to be incorrect.
“No, but they don’t make the same mistake twice.”
“That means they adapt, which means they learn.”
The Sword sighed again.
“Focus on the flying, kid. Either you’ll learn on your own, or you won’t.”
If he was trying to insult me, he had succeeded. Even so, it wasn’t in a Sword’s nature to lie. Somehow, there had to be logic to his statements, but only for those who had all the facts.
The obvious answer was that those who didn’t learn from their mistakes died and couldn’t repeat the mistake. But that would mean that they were, in fact, unable to adapt. Could it be that they went through a change—a metamorphosis of sorts?
“They modify their behavior,” another Sword said.
“That’s learning,” I countered.
“No,” Sword of Spheres said patiently. “It isn’t. They have a set behavior with a finite number of states. Sometimes they disperse, sometimes they assemble, but they never learn. Some say that they acquire new behavior by consuming others. That’s for Salvage to figure out.”
“If none of the subspecies learn, how are they so different?” I still failed to find the logic.
“That’s a mystery we’re tasked with finding out.”
Were we? It definitely fell within the mission parameters.
A race with a limited number of reactions that never learned, but relied on the fact that its enemies wouldn’t come up with anything it was unable to counter. It sounded too absurd, too philosophical. What made the entire conversation even more incomprehensible was that the Cassandirans, as a whole, were adaptive without a doubt. But if no sub-species could adapt and the whole was created of subspecies, how could the whole itself adapt?
“Are you making fun of me?” I asked.
“I told you, you won’t understand, kid.” Sword of Spheres seemed to smile. “Now you have a way to keep the boredom away. Enjoy it before it’s gone.”
* * *
I didn’t understand what he had meant at the time. Even after regaining my extracted memories, the notion still wasn’t fully clear. After returning to the Fleet, though, I think I finally had an idea. Funnily enough, humanity could be described in the exact same fashion. As a whole, we grew, developing new weapons tactics, acquiring new ship classes that were stronger and more efficient than those before. And yet, in actual combat situations, we remained static. Bavon had only a set number of things he could do against me: send transports to seek me out, increase security, or build better defenses. Thanks to the dead race, I had negated his ability to kill me with a simple transmission. All other actions he took might either be extremely effective or open him up to new mistakes. The point was that they would be different mistakes, in turn forcing me to adjust my approaches as well.
I never knew you were so philosophical, Spheres. If we could continue that conversation now, I would have enjoyed it.
After ten minutes of rushing through the dense vegetation, I stopped. There were no signs that anyone was following me. Right now, the base had its own problems. Regulations demanded that a thorough analysis of the failures be made, all weaknesses addressed, and all responsible parties punished.
I removed the empty food tube from my suit, then attacjed a full one. Looking at it, I had enough food to last me a few weeks. The weapons were a greater issue. A few magazines were barely enough to scare people off. At most, I’d be able to pull that trick twice, so I had to make it count.
Finding a nice spot, I sat on the ground and leaned against a tree. Going through my recent memories, I reviewed all information I had gathered. It would have been nice to know more about the “focal points” Bavon had discovered, but knowing their locations was enough.
There was a high probability that he was aware of what I had been poking at. In theory, my former access level allowed me to go through all Fleet protocols without leaving any trace. I doubted that arbiter files were considered “all”, though.
Using the map they kindly provided, I superimposed the area I had gone through since my arrival on the planet. The nearest focal point wasn’t too far off. Even without pushing myself, I could reach it before nightfall. That would provide me a slight advantage and hopefully something of interest before anyone else. Bavon might have personnel and tech, but there was one thing he couldn’t use—third-contact artifacts.
If Wilco were here, he’d probably say something along the lines of “the race is on.”
Unlike him, I just entered sleep mode. Two hours and thirteen minutes later, I was making my way to the focal point, carrying the container full of third-contact artifacts.
The trip lasted longer than expected, and just as before, I found a small group of people already there. Lights were everywhere, floating above the area, making it clearly visible. Two words came to mind: sloppy, and beautiful.
Dozens of trees had been cut off, forming a large clearing. Within that clearing, partially unearthed, were a multitude of cobalt walls similar to the ones I’d seen near the key dome during my first mission with Lux.
Based on the few excavated elements I could see, the walls seemed to form the start of a pattern—a labyrinth of sorts that likely went on for kilometers.
What I wouldn’t give for an orbital image, I thought.
There was no sign of domes from my position, but I was certain that there had to be at least one there. People in yellow space suits—likely scientists—diligently removed layers of soil in their effort to reveal the entire construction.
So, this is a focal point. I ran a hundred simulations analyzing the people’s movement pattern.
Without a doubt, this was one of the greatest discoveries that humanity had made, yet it remained a ruin. There was no sign of fractal beings.
Remaining still, I reviewed my memories again, including the conversation with Bavon. He had been convinced that he’d achieve third-contact. If this wasn’t the place he’d do so, what was it?
I could fire a few rounds and scare the people off for long enough to do a quick exploration on my own. Would that be useful? Probably not. Sadly, it didn’t seem I had much of a choice.
Moving into position, I waited until all the people in view were with their backs turned to me, then broke my cover.
Three shots echoed in the air as I made my approach.
“Stay where you are!” I shouted as all them, without exception, turned around in search of the source of the noise. I wouldn’t be surprised if none of them had ever seen combat, be it live or in Simulated Reality. “Don’t try anything.” I aimed the rifle at one of them at random.
Thankfully, none made an attempt to run.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
A few of the people turned to each other.
“One of you will have to tell me.” I took another step forward.
“Excavating!” a male voice said. “We’re clearing the focal point to find the domes within it.”
“And what then?”
None of them responded.
“What will you do with the dome?” I clarified.
“Establish third-contact,” another person said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “The domes can be used as communication devices, so we—”
“You’re unable to use the domes.” I interrupted, aiming the rifle at the person who had spoken last. “What’s your real goal?”
“They’re telling you the truth, Elcy,” a new female voice said from my left. It was a very familiar voice I had heard on more than one occasion.
My immediate reaction was to turn around and attempt to fire. As I did, a shot echoed, hitting me in the right biceps.
The pain was unpleasant, but more significantly, the injury rendered me unable to hold my weapon. The rifle fell on the ground.
“You’re rather resourceful, but even you aren’t infallible.” A woman said. Like me, she wasn’t wearing a helmet, making her face clearly recognizable—Lux.
“We should stop meeting like this, ma’am,” I said. At least now I knew how Bavon had managed to get here. The only being able to make out the location of the third-contact planet based on the information I had provided was another Ascendant, even if she was part of the BICEFI. “I never took you for a spare.”
“All of us are spares, Elcy.” Lux lowered the pistol she was holding. It seemed so small in comparison to my weapon, but packed a punch. “Aren’t you tired of the constant cat-and-mouse game?”
“We have different visions of how third-contact must proceed. Or have you forgotten Gregorius?”
“Definitely not. But consider this—you’re at the end of your rope. You can tell that the fractal race isn’t in this ruin. Help us find them and Bavon will put all that’s happened since you went rogue behind him.”
“When something sounds too good to be true, it usually isn’t.”
“Quoting your first captain? Sweet.” She took a few steps closer, gun always in hand. “You’re an Ascendant, and that makes you valuable right now. So, I’ll give you two options: either you help me in your current capacity, or I’ll shoot up your husk and store your conscience core in the base until you’re needed. What will it be?”
