New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

Pirra whistled to herself as she went out the door.

Alexander would be excited to see her, she thought.  She had not told him that she had decided to come, she wanted to surprise him.  Besides, he was probably already there without his system!

She had left hers in her office.  It was always strange to be without her system and HUD.  It was normal protocol that everyone on a starship go without them on occasion – you did not want to become so used to them that you became helpless – but it still felt odd.

It did keep things in perspective, though, since you had to just really look at the world around you.

She adjusted her wing drapes as she went.  Alexander always dressed up when he went to these events, so she had done the same.

Dessei standards of dressing up were quite different from human ones, though.  Humans often became more drab, opting for only a few colors.  But for her people, you wanted to be a goddamn rainbow.

She had toned it down; limiting herself to black and white, with yellow trim.  It matched her green plumage and red eyes well, she thought.

As she whistled her way down the hall, she saw a flash of red.

She froze a moment, realizing before she was even consciously aware of it that it was Kessissiin.

On paper she ought to feel positive about him.  He was one of the best in her unit, after all.  He distinguished himself in every encounter, and he admired her greatly.

But she could not get past his hero-worship – or his species chauvinism.

“Hello, Commander,” he said, with just the right level of pleasantness and professionalism.  She had him on watch when she was not.  It had been the suggestion of her planning algorithms, and they were great – and official – tools.  Kessissiin did not like it, and had requested to be changed to another shift.  She had been happy to implement the schedule and denied his request.

Hopefully, she thought, the system had not made the suggestion solely because of her emotional reaction to him.

“Hello,” she said, adjusting her path to just go by him.

“May I speak with you a moment?” he asked.

He did not move into her path, which would have made her immediately turn him down.  So she stopped.

“Yes?” she asked.

“I simply would like to wish you a pleasant evening,” he said, his crest flashing in a motion to represent simple happiness; a smile.

“Ah, well thank you.  To you, too,” she said, offering the same politeness, and turning to move on.

“Where are you off to for the evening?” he asked.

She felt a thrill of annoyance that showed in her crest, and from the shift of his eyes, she knew he saw that.

He did not politely back off or feign remembering that he had to leave, something to let her off for answering, though.  He only seemed . . .  Well, he was staying hard to read, but she thought he might be slightly nervous.

But why, if he was nervous, was he holding her up further?

“I’m going to a religious event with my husband,” she said.  She wouldn’t lie about it or couch it, even if it wasn’t any of his business.  She had nothing to hide.

He reacted with shock.  “You’re going to a human religious ceremony?”

Her annoyance grew.  “Yes.  So?  I’m going because Alex believes in it.  I know you’re not married, Kessissiin, but this is a healthy thing that partners do for each other.”

“But you don’t believe in it?” he asked.

She scowled in response.  She had implied that, hadn’t she?

“When was the last time you – or your supportive husband – went to a Dessei cultural event?” he challenged, his crest raising.

“I am not playing into this,” she replied sharply.  “And this is the second time you are out of line recently!”

Kessissiin did not seem in the slightest troubled by that.  “I know that you love your husband, Erreseh-“

“What did you just call me?” she demanded, eyes widening and crest rising.  Erreseh was an intimate term, something that only someone who was the closest of family, a lover, or someone with whom you shared an eternal bond of comradeship should be called.  Not him to her!

“-but he is not the only one who loves you!”

He leaned closer, his hands onto her arms.  He hovered there, unsure, as she stared at him in shock.

With a bonk, something hit him on the head.

“What?” he yelped, staggering into her slightly.  She pushed him aside, the assailant behind him still unknown to her.

As he fell to the side, she realized that it was not an assailant – or, at least not one aimed at her.

Apollonia was raising the plastic tube again, her eyes tracking Kessissiin and preparing to launch another blow as he staggered to the side.

Pirra reached out, grabbing the pipe before she could do that.

“Apollonia, stop it,” she ordered sharply.

The human woman looked to her, surprise widening her eyes.  “Wasn’t he attacking you?!” she said, trying to wrench the pipe free from Pirra’s grasp.

“No!” Pirra said.  “I mean, he was . . . taking liberties!”

“Let me hit him again then,” Apollonia said, as if it was the most reasonable thing in the world.

Kessissiin let out a groan, rubbing his head.  “This is the human that just attacked me?” he said, gesturing to Apollonia, but staring at Pirra.

“If you had been doing your duty instead of . . .”  Pirra struggled to find the appropriate words.  “. . . . all that, you might have heard her coming!  And she only thought she was protecting me from your loutish behavior!”

“Loutish?” Kessissiin said, his tone sounding hurt.

“You were being a fucking creep,” Apollonia said.  “Damn weirdo sex perv-“

Kessissiin rose in one swift motion, making a sound that could be mistaken as nothing but aggression.

Pirra moved in between Apollonia and the man.

They were of equal height and weight.  Dessei males and females did not have much dimorphism, so they’d be similar strengths, and they both had high-end military enhancements.  If he did want to get to Apollonia, who lacked anything like that and was quite a bit smaller than him, he’d have to go through Pirra.

He stopped, though, clearly unwilling to fight her.  “She attacked me!”

“She has no augments, and your skull is reinforced,” Pirra said.  “Go see a medical drone but I’d bet anything you’re fine.”

Kessissiin’s crest moved in ugly ways.  “You always side with them over your own people.”

“You are acting out of line,” she said coldly.  “And you are out of my unit.  For this, and for what you did just before that.  Go turn in your weapons and your badge.  You are benched until further notice.”

Kessissiin let out a slow whistle of shock.  He was, she saw, truly stunned by this, and could not even reply for a few long moments.

“I understand,” he finally said, standing up stiffly.  “Commander.”

“Go,” Pirra said.

He turned, marching like a machine, down the hall.

Pirra could not put in the order now, without her system.  She wasn’t even sure of the time, which twisted her gut in worry.  What if she was late and got locked out of Alex’s event?

“Are you all right?” she asked Apollonia quickly.

“Yeah,” the woman said.  “Did I . . . make that worse?  I thought you might be in trouble.”

Pirra considered how to reply.  “I appreciate that you wanted to help, but you should have just called for assistance.”

“I don’t have my system,” Apollonia mumbled.  “He just looked like he was all over you like a . . .” she trailed off, evidently not able to think of an appropriate comparison.

“I am able to take care of myself,” Pirra said, trying not to take offense.  “Dessei don’t have sexual dimorphism like humans.”

“So you’re saying you could have taken him?”  Apollonia asked.

“Er . . .”

“In a fight, I mean!”

“Well . . . yes,” Pirra said, her pride rising.

“Then why didn’t you?” Apollonia asked.  Pirra had a good feeling that it was a sincere question.

“Dessei are very forward in these things, so he wasn’t . . . well, no, he absolutely was acting inappropriately,” Pirra admitted, finding the nuances of her people’s ways rather hard to explain to an outsider.  Such sudden declarations were not strange, but he had gone about it all in the absolute worst way.

“But I did not want to resort to violence.”  Pirra added the last part pointedly, and Apollonia seemed to give off clear signs of regret and nervousness.  “Why didn’t you have your system on you, anyway?”

“Sorry, I was on my way to an event,” Apollonia replied.

“You too?” Pirra asked.

“You’re going?” Apollonia echoed.

They both nodded.

“Well . . . walk with me,” Pirra said.  “Kessissiin probably won’t try to make any charges.  But just . . . don’t hit people with things, Ms. Nor.”

“Not even if they need help?” Apollonia asked with a frown.

Pirra was not sure if Apollonia meant that Kessissiin needed help via bonking, or if it was to help someone potentially being attacked.  “. . . Just try to have better discretion,” Pirra finally said with a sigh.  “At discerning who actually is in trouble.”  She eyed Apollonia.  “What were you doing here?  This isn’t the way to the event.”

“I was taking a walk first,” Apollonia muttered.

She looked very concerned.  Pirra was not sure if she really should be telling the woman she had done right.

But on a personal level she, well, she appreciated the thought.

She put a hand on Apollonia’s shoulder.  “Well . . . thanks,” she said.

Apollonia perked up and smiled at her.

---

< Ep 13 part 24 | Ep 13 part 26 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

“Elliot, stop messing with your tie,” Iago chided his son.

“It’s too tight,” Elliot complained.  “It’s choking me.”

“There’s a difference between choking and just feeling it there,” Iago replied.

Elliot let it drop, both literally and figuratively, the tie flopping back down.

Iago had let his son pick the design for the tie, so it was of course a wholly-inappropriate monster with gaping jaws, strange curved fangs, and a necklace of skulls.  It wielded a giant club, and you could just barely see the hands and curved sword of the ancient warrior who was ready to battle it.

“I think it’s cute,” Cass had said when she’d seen it.

Which was, Iago thought, perhaps the most deflating comment she could have made.  “It reminds me of humanity’s insignificance in the face of the horrors of the universe.”

That last bit, at least, Elliot had liked.

They were on their way to the Ceremony.  Father Sair had not said that they should dress up, but Iago had decided they should; it felt appropriate to do so.

Cassandra took his arm, smiling up at him, and he felt such warmth and happiness at this moment that it stole his words.

He would never be thankful for thinking he had lost her.  But that absence of her from his life had taught him just how deep his feelings for her had run.  Every moment was a treasure.

How many people got their wish to have more time with the person they had loved and lost?

They had left early.  He found he often tended to be late unless he planned this way, and with the way Cassandra fussed over her clothes and how Elliot tended to be, made it just seem wise.

So now they were walking, as a family, for a time.  He’d planned a roundabout path through some of the Craton‘s gardens and the Equator Ring.  It seemed just to be a good time.  Even better if they could gaze upon the infinity of space before worship.

Elliot hadn’t been very excited about it, but he now took to running around the garden, hopping over every crack on the decorative cobbles, and climbing up on benches.

“He’s wearing himself out,” Cassandra said, sighing.

“That was my plan,” Iago admitted, winking to her.

“Oh, you are bad!”

“Well, I remember being his age.  I was a menace.  It might help him stay awake.”

Cass frowned a little, seeming bothered.

“What is it?” he asked.

She said nothing for a long time, and they kept walking.

“I just wonder,” she said.  “I . . . I was gone for so long.  I missed so much.”

“I know, but now you’re with us, and you’ll be here for everything,” he promised her.  “We could leave the Craton if it worries you.”

“It’s not that I’m worried about the future . . .  I feel safe with you,” she said to him, putting a hand on his chest.  “Sometimes, though, I . . .”

Cassandra had often hidden her thoughts from him, he knew.  Not always; just since her return.  She had said little, kept some things hidden away.

He had wanted to give her time – and he had a feeling now that she might be about to say something of importance.

He waited now, just wanting to listen.  She finally spoke.

“I sometimes feel like I’m an imposter.  Not the real Cassandra you met and married.  My memories – sometimes I worry they’re someone else’s, not mine.  Like I’m not real . . .”

“You’re real!” he said, taking her hands.  “You are my wife, Elliot’s mother.  You are the wonderful, beautiful, genius woman who makes this universe a better place with her presence.”

He could see her smile, saw that his words were having the effect he wanted.

He leaned in, kissed her on the cheek.  “And no one else knows where you have that one mole, do they?” he added with an evil grin.

“Iago!” she said, blushing some, but also laughing.

“Dad!”  Elliot yelled from down the path.  He did not sound in trouble, but definitely wanted their attention.

Iago sighed.  “Let’s go see what trouble our son has found, shall we?”

She smiled and they went together.

Elliot was standing on the last cobble, balancing on one foot.  He waited for them to get close, then pointed.

The cobbles of the garden paths stopped here, turning to more traditional decking, and out beyond was a small courtyard with little stands of snacks and street food.  Among the benches, though, sat a man alone.

“It’s Mr. Tred,” Elliot said.

“Yes,” Iago agreed.  “What about him?”

The neurotic man was always sitting alone, so he didn’t see his son’s issue.  Even stranger that he cared; Tred had always been annoyed by Elliot’s antics.  They knew him . . . not well, but well enough, since the man lived unfortunately close to Alexander and Pirra.

“Yeah, but he looks really down,” Elliot said.  “See?  I think he’s even been crying.”

Iago blinked, surprised to see that it was true.  Tred’s face and eyes were puffy, and he looked . . . well, more miserable than usual.

“Why don’t we ask him to come with us?” Elliot said.  “You and mom always say you feel better after church.”

The frankness of his son’s comment shocked him.  They did say that, and they did feel that.  But he had not really thought his son would take it in this way, might even suggest others could benefit from it.

He felt a sudden swell of pride in his chest.  Cass smiled at him.  “I think that’s a very good idea.  Do you want to go ask him, Elliot?”

“Well, he doesn’t like me much,” Elliot admitted.  “But you were a really important Response Officer, dad.  He’s got to know you and trust you.  Why don’t you ask him?”

Iago considered.  It was a pretty reasonable point.

“All right,” he said, smiling.

He walked over, and overheard Elliot speak to his mom softly.

“Do you think they won’t be able to fit me in if Mr. Tred goes?  Maybe I should go home.”

Cassandra’s voice was warm, but firm.  “Not a chance, Elliot.”

Iago grinned.  It had been a nice try on his son’s part.

He kept walking towards Tred.  The man noticed him when he was only a few meters away, looking up with puffy eyes.

“I’m sorry,” the man said.  “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble, I’ll go-“

“Go?” Iago asked, smiling.  “You’re not in trouble, Tred.  I’m not even in Response anymore.”

The man hesitated, sniffed once, then started to get up again.  “I just don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“No, look,” Iago said, putting a hand on Tred’s shoulder.  The man paused in an awkward half-stand.  “I just . . . well, no, my son saw that you looked down, Tred.”

The man hovered in his half-standing stance a moment longer, before standing up.  “Oh,” he said.  He didn’t say anything else.

“I just . . . we don’t want that for you,” Iago said earnestly.

Tred sniffed, wiping at his face.  It was dry, he just didn’t seem to want to look Iago in the eye.  “Thanks,” he said.

“Why don’t you come with us?” Iago said.  “We’re going to an event.  It’s a religious ceremony – and I know you’re not religious.  But that’s okay.  You don’t have to be to be there.  The more the merrier, you know?  And I think . . . well, I mean there’s a chance that, whatever is bothering you, you might feel better afterwards.”

Tred’s jaw dropped slightly, staring at Iago in surprise.  “You’re inviting me to your event?”

He wasn’t sure what to say to Iago.  He did not like events, or groups.  Or religion, for that matter.  Most times he thought of it with a vague sense of guilt and apprehension.

Did he have faith in some higher power?  He didn’t think so.  But strange things that could not be explained with science had been happening.  Who could explain a Leviathan?

No one yet, he thought.  It didn’t mean they wouldn’t be able to one day, though.  But was he really interested in filling the void inside himself with some kind of supernatural belief?

He could imagine himself falling into it, even too deep.  To the point where even the religious people rejected him.  His bitter fantasy hurt already.

But maybe not?  Maybe some faith would help . . .

Iago had waited patiently as he saw the visible struggle on Tred’s face, but cleared his throat now.  “If you do want to come Tred, it’s being held in Event Room C13, at 1900.  Get there by or before then, because the doors will be locked after that.”

Tred did not know.  Most meetings you could come in late.  People might be annoyed at that, but they would still want you there.

“If you do show up late, just knock,” Iago added as an afterthought.  “I’ll try to let you in.”

“Okay,” Tred said.

Iago did not know if the man really meant it, or if he would come.  But as he walked away, Tred called out.

“Thank you, Mr. Caraval.”

---

< Ep 13 part 23 | Ep 13 part 25 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

They could not control anything; the panels simply did not seem to allow them to do so, even doing the reverse of the action Kat had done in the vain hope it might return the vessel to the temple and open the door.

Kell warned them to cease meddling with the controls.

“You do not know what circumstances might unfold,” he said.

Which did get them to stop.

Being in here was not necessarily a terrible turn of events.  They had come for exploration, after all, and they had found something unique.  It would only be an issue if they could not find a way out.

They naturally broke up into groups.  Nadian and Kat were speaking quietly, the former’s animated face seeming to be comforting.  Kat, for her part, clearly felt guilty.

Fergus was talking quietly to Fromm, perhaps because both distrusted Nadian.

“Kell, what can you tell me about what’s going on here?” Brooks asked softly to the Ambassador.

“Very little,” Kell replied.

“I need you to do better than that,” Brooks replied.  “You’re capable of more.”

Kell looked at him with a little more seriousness.

“You overestimate my knowledge.  There are things I know from experience, which are limited to Earth.  There are things I know because they were imprinted into my being – these are sparse and general.  And there are things I can see that you cannot.  That is all it is – observations.  But I do not always have the knowledge to make sense of them.”

“You see more than me, and right now that’s what I need,” Brooks said, realizing that he needed to be more specific with Kell.  “What do you see that I may be missing?”

Kell looked slightly amused at that.  “Much.”

Brooks took a deep breath.

“There is a presence here,” he began.  “I . . . spoke to it, before I came to.”

Kell nodded.  “Yes.”

“You were aware of it?”

“Only once it made itself known,” Kell replied.  “Though to think it might not be here is foolish.  Would your people leave a station without its machines?”

Brooks’s mind raced.  “Is it hostile?”

“Treat it as such,” Kell replied.

“There’s some difficulty for me there,” Brooks said.  “I cannot lie to it.  The Present Mind knew what I was thinking when we communicated.  It spoke with my own inner voice into my mind.  It took the shape of people from my memories.”  He sighed.  “We have technologies for reading minds.  But this was different.”

“From higher dimensional angles, lower-dimensional objects are visible in all their details,” Kell said.

“As I can see all of a 2D picture in one look, yes,” Brooks replied, frowning.  “So it is able to look at my brain from these higher angles and . . . understand me?”

“It was made this way to enable its purpose; obeying its creators.  It is a tool – the computer which controls this place.”

“This ‘enabling’.”

Kell shrugged slightly.  “It ‘enabled’ them to do something.  What, I am not yet sure.  Yet your guesses as to why it is so large miss the true point; it is not this scale to simply show power – though I am certain it did do that – it is this scale because the technologies behind it required this scale.”

A terrifying thought, Brooks thought.  What purpose could require so vast a station – what did it ‘enable’?  But it was not something there was any value in pursueing at this moment, when answers were still elusive.

“Is the Present Mind listening to us now?” he asked.

“Yes,” Kell said.  “But when it is not directly interacting with us it will not know our minds.  It is a tool, after all – nothing more.  It will only know our minds when it establishes direct connection.”

“When I’m in the white nothingness,” Brooks said, nodding slightly.

Kell looked slightly amused.  “Is that how you see it?”

If it could read his mind fully – and it did seem to be able to see all of him – it would know of this conversation.  Perhaps it would have to check, but it likely would.  While it might feel unassailable, and perhaps truly was, it would also want to know of potential threats.

They had to be viewed as that, even if just because vermin could be a threat.

A sudden thought came to him.  “Kell, if it has read my mind so completely – can it mimic me?”

“It could,” Kell said.  “I could see through it, if it tried, however.”

Still, it sat uneasily with Brooks.

---

The paperwork before her seemed to have grown into a mountain, and Pirra wished she could just be doing what she was good at instead of all this nonsense.

They were just lists, projected above her desk, all of the actual work was digital sheets, of course.  But even just that projected wall seemed to blot out all behind it.

Wonderful, she thought.  She should never have agreed to the promotion that made her de facto head of Response.

Shouldn’t Kai Yong Fan be doing some of this?  She was the head of Response.  Of course, she knew that Kai was really doing quite a bit more.  It was just all much more in the form of supply and organization.

But much more than the sheer amount of work, it just felt absurd to Pirra that she was here doing paperwork while the Captain was inside an ancient, spooky, abandoned relic temple.  The doors had closed on it earlier, and she had put herself on standby.  Yet no order had come through activating her or her team.

Which galled her, though she did not exactly know why.  She wasn’t even eager to go into such a place.  It just reeked of horror.

She glanced again at her lists of paperwork, sorting them into a vague list of priority.

This wouldn’t have gotten so bad if she had just stayed on top of it.

She had half a mind to call for a surprise drill, to get out of this work.  But that kind of thing was how she had ended up in this mess in the first place.

A call came in.  She should ignore it, but it was her husband, Alexander.

Eagerly, she took the call.

“Hello~” she sang pleasantly.  “Pirra is not available right now, on account of her dying inside due to the amount of paperwork she has in front of her.”

Alexander let out a very human chuckle.  “Hey, honey, I was gonna see how you were doing, but I guess now I know.”

“I’m at least in the home office,” she said.  “It’s more relaxed.”

“Nothing like working in your pajamas,” Alex teased.

Something about that human word had always irked her.  She could not say it right; Alex thought it was cute, but she did not feel the same way.  He mentioned it every chance he got.

She didn’t really mind.

“I am fully dressed,” she insisted, though, keeping to their in-joke.  “You know I don’t wear pashamas.”

“I know, I know.  But hey, I wanted to tell you that I’m not gonna be home until late.”

“Oh,” she said, her crest falling.  She had thought they would have a nice, quiet evening at home together.  Until the inevitable call for her to go into action because of some nonsense with the stupid temple.

“I’m going to a special event that Father Sair is holding,” he continued.  He sounded somewhat nervous, hurrying his words.  “And I know it’s not your thing, but – would you want to go with me?”

She was surprised at that; she had assumed he would be late because of his work.

She did not know what to say.  She did believe in being supportive of her partners interests and hobbies.

Though perhaps a religion was more than a hobby?  She wasn’t entirely sure.

It really was not her field of interest.

“I’ll have to see if I can get ahead of this work,” she said.  “I’ve got so much piled up.”

The excuse felt lame to her, but it was reasonably valid.  She felt guilty over it nonetheless.

“I understand,” Alex replied.  He sounded a little relieved; perhaps he’d been expecting a straight no.  “But if you do decide to come, you’ll have to leave your system at home.  There’s no modern tech allowed during the ceremony.  Respect and stuff.”

“Okay,” she said, finding that particularly odd.  What if there was an emergency?

Well, she could put in that she’d be incommunicado, and then they’d just page her at the event.  It wasn’t that big a deal.

“I’m glad you’re going, at least,” she told him.  “Things have been so crazy the last few days, everyone’s getting really jittery over this spooky space temple.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, some of the Boku-boku even filed a joint complaint, saying they thought something was down there with them in Resources!”

Alex chuckled.  “I guess you didn’t find anything?” he asked.

“No, just them jumping at shadows.  They said they ‘felt it in their spikes’.  I didn’t even know what kind of sense that was to put into my report.”

“Too many predators from their homeworld, I guess that would make anyone jittery,” Alexander said.

He noticed that he’d been talking for a few minutes.  “Well, good talking to you, honey.  I’m gonna let you get back to your fun paperwork.”

“Byeee~” she sang.

As the call ended, Alex found that something Pirra had said had stuck in his mind.

He really had other things to focus on, but the Boku-boku and their complaint seemed relevant, somehow.

The little aliens came from a world that was rife with large carnivores that could, in historical times, make snacks out of them.  They had been discovered and uplifted by the Bicet, the only other species who they really got along with.  But they retained their spiky growths, which were both a defense and a way for their body to rid itself of excess silicon.

He opened up a new tab on his browser and brought up scholarly research on the Boku-boku.  They typically did not like to be space-faring, and their society had revolved around the collective gathering and storing of resources – a trait that made them very much at home in the modern Resources department.

But how did they react to krahteons, he found himself wondering.

This was a subject that there was not a lot of research into, it was just such a poorly-understood phenomenon, it was hard to test.

There was some research, however.  And from both research and anecdotal evidence, he found some interesting data.

Boku-boku were very sensitive, more than most other species, to krahteons.  The radiation had a nasty habit of interacting with the crystalline structures in their thorns, which made them brittle and prone to breaking.  As they possessed nerves in their growths, they could even feel those micro-fractures, and often described the feeling as “crackly”.

He found that he could not access the details of their complaint earlier, it was outside of his security level.  But he could piece together when it occurred.

It was about the time that Father Sair had gone down there, he realized.

He checked the priest’s public data, to be sure.  But yes; Sair went down, and then minutes later, the Boku-boku filed their complaint.

It had to be coincidence, he thought.

He looked at the chart of patterning for changes occurring in his DNA strand.

It was wrong to think this, he thought.

But his scientific curiosity was too strong.  He ran the publicly-available data of Father Sair’s movements against his corruption pattern.

As the results came in, he did not know how to deal with the panic that was setting in.

Because every time the Father had passed near his DNA strand, it had gained another mutation.

Yet it did not cover all, or even most of the hits.

There was something else, something he was missing.

On a whim, he ran Ambassador Kell’s data against his list.

It did not match – he could not say if Kell was a potential source of krahteons, but he just had not come close by the DNA strand at any point.  His movements were fairly contained to certain parts of the ship that did not include this one.

There was just one other person he could think of.

He told the system to check Apollonia’s movements against his list.

He leaned back, feeling like he’d taken a punch to the gut.

Almost every remaining incident of mutation matched her being in close proximity.

She passed by this area often, on runs.  Her schedule was erratic, and so therefore too was the exposure.  But every single time she passed nearby, his test DNA mutated.

“My god,” he muttered.  The words had, until now, been just a phrase he’d learned to say.  Now, he suddenly found himself wishing he truly believed in a religion, that it wasn’t just a hopeful wish for faith.

There were still some unexplained gaps.  Could . . . could they somehow make these findings make more sense?  Put a context to them that did not disturb him so much?

He set the computer to seeking who else might match this pattern, flailing mentally.  He did not know what this meant; if he should even be reporting it or not.

She was a CR.  It made sense.  Right?

But did anyone else know she was putting out radiation of the same kind as a Leviathan?

And what did it mean that the Father was putting out the same radiation?

He had to be a CR as well, Alexander realized.  It was the only explanation he could think of.

He ran a comparison; krahteonic radiation was poorly understood, and really didn’t behave all that much like other known forms of it.  It wasn’t a form of photon, but more like a charged particle, though even there just what the sort of particle they were could not be explained.

There were certain consistencies, however.  He could compare this exposure to other instances.

It was not nearly as strong as those of a Leviathan, he found.  Either the one they had encountered about a year ago or the records of the one at Terris . . . which the entire ship had just commemorated.  That bothered him on some level.

But there were trace records similar to this.

From The Chain.

The medical facility for people exposed to krahteons, mutated by them.  Like his plant DNA.

He knew that something big, something alarming, had occurred there.  Being the husband of a major Response officer meant he picked up on such things, even when they were supposed to remain secret.

But he did not know what.  Only that it had been . . . strange and alarming, and related to tenkions and krahteons.

Rumors gave him some more ideas.  The stories had spread that someone on The Chain had been mutating out of control.  Becoming something different, something dangerous.  Apollonia had gone onto the station, and the situation had been resolved in a way that had resulted in the death of a resident.

Were the rumors true?  What if . . . what if Apollonia and even the Father were basically like that resident on the Chain?  Were they doomed to become something inhuman and dangerous?

He felt his heart rate increasing.  He knew he was jumping to conclusions.

He almost called Pirra.  But no – she hadn’t been involved in that incident on The Chain.  She might know more, but he’d have to convince her, then she could go up the ranks . . .

He wasn’t in the ranks, though.  He could bring his evidence to the top immediately.

He needed someone with maximum possible clearance.  The Captain was off the ship, and Urle was on-duty.

He called Jaya Yaepanaya.  She was the perfect choice, as Operations commander she’d naturally want to know of any possible danger to the ship, she was laser-focused on such things . . .

He got her message system.  He didn’t have the clearance to get through to her directly.

“Ah, Commander Yaepanaya, this is Alexander Shaw . . . I’m a botanist and I’ve found something that you need to see.  I know it sounds odd, but once I explain it will make sense.  Contact me as soon as you can.  I . . . I’m afraid this could impact the safety of the ship.”

He ended the message.  A lot of other thoughts of what he should say came to him, along with the question of if he was overreacting.

But he had set his course.  He just had to wait for Commander Yaepanaya to get back to him.

---

< Ep 13 part 22 | Ep 13 part 24 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

“Pulse two hundred and twenty-seven,” Cenz called.

There was a brief flash of light in the infrared as the drilling lasers of the drones fired again, multiple brief beams in rapid succession.

Against any normal substance, each pulse would flash-heat the surface to the boiling point, causing it to rapidly expand – blasting away pieces of itself.  Each pulse should burrow deeper, and by now they should be tens of meters deep.

“Pulse 227 concluded,” Cenz said.

“Depth achieved?” Urle asked.

Cenz studied the data for a moment.  The flash-melted debris had to disperse slightly before they could measure.

“Two centimeters,” Cenz replied.

Urle nearly voiced his frustration, but kept it in.  “Resume firing.”

The stone of the temple was insanely resilient.  No mundane material should be able to take these lasers this easily, not without active cooling or self-repair.

It was as if the energy of each laser was being bled away more rapidly than the stone of the temple could possibly be moving it.

From their scans of collected pieces, it was somewhat reminiscent of cratonic rock, just denser.  But even cratonic rock with its tenkionic properties couldn’t withstand this many lasers with so little damage.

“Keep going,” Urle said.

The drones were overheating; they could only shed so much waste heat so quickly, and were not meant to fire at this pace.

“Pulse 228,” Cenz called.

Shomari Eboh raised his head.  “We are getting a signal!  It’s Captain Brooks.”

“Craton, this is Brooks.  Can you hear me?”

Cheers went up from the bridge, and Urle felt a flood of relief.  “We read you Captain, loud and clear.  What’s your situation?”

“Ah, finally.  The doors inside the temple have closed on us, we think we triggered some kind of security protocol.  But we’ve found a way to interface with the technology in here – we think we can get it open with some time.”

As relieved as Urle was to hear this, he still didn’t know how much time Brooks had to work with – or if Brooks might know.

“We still can’t get through to the first team,” Urle said.  “We’re trying to drill through the door to get a line in, but it’s going slow.”

“Keep going with the lasers, but don’t use anything heavier,” Brooks said.  “I don’t want to damage the temple.  We’ll work both sides.  The team will have their own equipment, they may be trying to drill through their end, too.”

Urle decided to take a gamble.  “Do you think you can hold out for seven hours?” he asked.

It contained elements of a code phrase that Brooks would recognize.  He could give his own coded response.

“We can last at least eight or nine hours,” Brooks replied.

Urle was almost surprised; Brooks was really telling him that things were under control, there was no danger.

Perhaps he was just feeling nerves.

“I can’t leave this on,” Brooks said.  “I’ll contact you again when I can.”

“All right,” Urle replied.  “We’ll continue to work from this end.”

The connection ended.

“Can we find where the signal came from?” Urle asked.

“No, sir,” Cenz replied.  “There is no clear emitter or signal beam.  We simply . . . received it.”

“Great,” Urle said.  He tapped into another line.  “Jaya, did you hear all that?”

She had been listening in to the call from her office.  She should be sleeping now, but Urle had woken her when the door had shut.  He wanted her expertise.

“Yes,” she replied.

“What do you make of it?”

“Something is wrong,” she said simply.  “I don’t trust it.”

Urle checked the logs and saw that Brooks had used every appropriate clearance code, the right encryption, everything looked just perfect.

“I agree,” he told her.  “Something felt off.  It was too easy.”

“I suggest you see if you can get some stronger drills out there,” Jaya said.  “Or even consider using the coilguns.”

“No,” Urle said.  “Not yet.  The coilguns are a last resort – we don’t know what will happen if we punch a hole with that much force into this place.  If it started to collapse . . .”

With the size and mass of the station, it would be essentially an entire planet forming, in real time.  All it would take would be a breakdown of whatever force held it in its current shape.

“And besides,” he added.  “The Captain did say not to use anything higher than the lasers.  On the chance that was really him talking to us, I don’t want to just disregard his orders.”

“Very well,” Jaya said.  “Let’s shelve the thought – for now.  I will remain in my office unless you wish me to come to the command center.”

“Stay for now.  I’ll call you if I need you,” Urle told her.

Urle knew that if Jaya’s shift in command came up, she might make that call to use the coilguns.

His time was limited.

*******

Brooks woke up in a bright room.

No, not a room, he realized.  There were no walls; or at least the lighting was such that he could see no shadows, no corners.  Yet he was laying on something, even if he could not see it.

Materials with strange visual properties, he thought.  Normally he’d think it a cheap trick to try and disorient him, but this felt like . . .

Something far more than a trick.

He wasn’t alone here.  There was something here, he just could not see it.

“I am Captain-Mayor Ian Brooks,” he said, scanning slowly, trying to find some way to gain his bearings.  “Please introduce yourself.  I am not your enemy.”

I know who you are, he thought.

He blinked, trying to parse that.  He’d just had a thought – but not his own thought.  It was his own mind’s voice-

Do not be alarmed, he thought.

-but even overriding his own thoughts.

Ah, he thought.  I understand now.

Yes, he thought.  You are beginning to think, and that is the state most useful right now.

His own thoughts jumbled with the outside thoughts.  He felt a surge of nausea.

“Wait, wait!” he called, holding up a hand.

He tried to calm his mind, and no more voices intruded.

“I’m going to talk out loud,” he said.  “Then I’ll listen.  All right?”

That will suffice, he thought.

Slowly, Brooks got to his feet.  He still could not differentiate the floor or walls from each other and it interfered with his balance.

“Great,” he said.  “So . . . who are you?  If you can read my mind, you can see that I’m not your enemy.  Or else I don’t think we’d be talking so pleasantly.”

Enemy? he thought, puzzled.  I am not your enemy, Ian.  I am your own thoughts, created by the Present Mind of the Enabling.

“What?  Present Mind?  Are you the leader of this place?”

I am the Present Mind of the Enabling, he found himself thinking, feelings of certainty, confidence, and yet some confusion, flooding through him.

“S-so,” he said, finding himself staggered by the intrusive thoughts and feelings.  “My question doesn’t make sense to you.  You aren’t an individual being who is present in the temple, you are the temple.  Like an artificial intelligence.  I understand.”

Yes, I have it right, he thought.  He nearly panicked at that.

“You are not me!” he called out, looking up.  It just seemed the natural direction to look.

“Perhaps it would be easier this way.”

He turned, and nearly collapsed as he looked at his sister.

She was not pale in the same way she had been when he’d last seen her.  She had been a cold body next to him then, another person who had fallen asleep and never awakened in the Antarctic night after the Ring Collapse.

She appeared now in the prime of her health, her face neutral, just watching him calmly.  She wore the dress that she had worn to the last happy Sundown Festival they had known.  His last and most enduring happy memory of her.

“Don’t take that shape!” he barked.  She was not real, she couldn’t be real.  There was no bringing back those long-dead.  This was just an image from his mind, how he imagined she would look.  Forever a child, because he could not imagine who she might have become, and to even try would be too painful.

The image of his sister disappeared, instantly becoming that of his father.

“Perhaps this will be more pleasant,” he suggested.

He was older than his own father, he realized.  He had known that fact, but he had never really imagined it; that he might appear more mature, more knowledgeable than his own father who, like his sister, was eternally frozen in his mind, as a giant in body and wisdom.

“No,” he croaked.  “And not my mother.  Take someone from later in my life.”

Another person stood before him, just appearing there.

She was a small blonde.  Her features were not the most beautiful, but her presence was captivating.

“This form brings you distress as well, but it will serve for now.  You are still functional.”

Brooks fought to keep his mind clear as his emotions threatened to overrun him.  He locked onto his mental discipline, keeping his mind focused only on the moment.

“Do you mean to harm us?” he asked.

“No,” she said.  “I do have to study you, as you study me.  You are new and do not belong here.”

“If you wish us to leave, we’ll leave.”

“Unnecessary.  Outside of the temple I cannot study you.  I am blind to what is beyond, I only know what enters.”

Well, that could be useful.

“If you wish to destroy me, knowing such a detail will make no difference.  You cannot hurt me.  You have no reason to hurt me.”

“You are keeping me prisoner,” he said.

“You may leave at any time.”

He was suddenly back in the strange control room.

“Ach, Brooks, man, are ye all right?” Fergus asked him.

Brooks raised himself up and looked around, expecting to see them all standing and observing.

But no one else was up yet.

The Present Mind did not answer him when he called out to it in his head, and he glanced at the others, who were just stirring, save for Fromm, who was still.

His system detected breathing and no obvious injuries on anyone, so he glanced around.

“Anyone experience anything strange?” he asked.

“Strange?  How do you mean?” Nadian asked, sitting up.

If anyone else had experienced the Present Mind, they did not say.

He did not know if that meant he was unique or if they were just hiding it.  He considered; most times he’d share such a thing immediately.  But right now, he was not feeling overly trustful of Nadian or his group.

He would hold onto it for now.

“How long have we been out?” he asked.

“Mere moments,” Kell said.

His system supplied; four minutes.

“What happened?”

“The door closed and something occurred; its effects were too strong for you and you fell unconscious,” Kell said.

Which was entirely useless, yet probably all he knew as well.  Brooks got up, saw that Nadian was doing the same.

“Kat, are you all right?” Nade asked the woman.

“I’m fine,” she said, rubbing her face.  “I just don’t know what happened.”

“We can start a club,” Nadian muttered, looking around.  His eyes settled on Brooks.  “You seen anything like this in your experience with this stuff?”

“No,” Brooks said, studying the walls.  They looked different.  “Kell, why are the walls changed?”

“They are awaiting instruction,” Kell said, dismissively, staring at the controls.

“Can you use those?” Brooks asked, nodding to the control panel he observed.

“Perhaps,” Kell replied.

“All right.  Well, if you figure them out, let me know.  And if any of us start to get near them again – tell us.”

Kell frowned slightly, but inclined his head in a slight nod.

Brooks approached the wall, reaching out to touch it.  At his touch a circular ring grew outward – showing space beyond.

“We’re outside the temple,” he said, drawing his finger back.  The circular view stopped growing.

Nadian came up closer.  “Touch-sensitive?”

“Looks that way,” Brooks replied.

They both ran their hands along the wall, growing out the screen until it covered most areas they could reach.  If it was meant that all areas could become potential screens, he thought, as he looked at the ceiling, the creators of this place must have been far taller than a human.  The room was taller than it was wide, almost four meters high.

“These stars aren’t right,” Nadian said.

“What?” Kat asked.

“Look,” the man replied, gesturing.  “We can see all directions, but there’s no galactic core.  There are stars, but they’re evenly distributed across space.  This is . . . a projection.  And a wrong one.”

Brooks studied the sky with his sensors, but everything did look wrong.

“The Cosmic Background Radiation is stronger than it should be,” he said.  “This is a simulation of the past.”

“The past?” Fergus repeated.  “Ah, this is a time capsule!  It’s a way that the ancients used to be able to view the past-“

“Things don’t work like that,” Nadian insisted.  “You can’t time travel.  Or hell, there’s a lot of mistakes I’d fix.”

Fergus snorted.  “Of course yer thinking so petty-“

“No more arguing!” Brooks snapped, his voice his most hard and commanding.  “We work together or we die.”

Everyone else looked at him with surprise.

Fromm suddenly stood up.  “What’s going on?” he asked blearily.  He must have still been unconscious, roused by Brooks’s yelling.

“We’re trying to figure out when and where we are,” Brooks told him.

“When?” Fromm asked.  No one answered him.

“If this is a simulation, then we probably haven’t even moved,” Nadian said.  “This is just supposed to make us think we have.”

“No,” Brooks said, studying his HUD carefully.  “I think we are moving.  I am receiving signals that could only be from the Craton.”  He pointed.  “From that way.  It makes sense; some of her EM band is leaking through the temple.”

“Can you talk to them?” Kat asked.

“No.  It’s too distorted – and it’s growing weaker as well as red shifting.”  He swallowed.  “In other words we’re moving away from it, or they’re moving away from us.  I do not believe the Craton would leave us – so it is likely we who are moving.”

“Why isn’t the Craton chasing?” Fergus asked.  “Surely they see us.”

“Maybe they can’t,” Nadian replied.  He glanced at the others.  “I think we’re on our own.”

---

< Ep 13 part 21 | Ep 13 part 23 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

The room around them was twisted in angles and dimensions that hurt his eyes to look at.

The effect was not so strong as to completely dissuade Brooks from going forward, but it was not helping.

They saw strange illusions; of themselves, and of shadowy movements that looked nothing like themselves.  In places they began to find evidence of ancient inhabitants; just small debris whose original shape and purpose was unknown.

Kat and Nade stopped to examine scraps that might have been something like fabric.  Radiation damage and time had weathered them down, so that the slightest touch caused them to crumble.

“Kell,” Brooks said.  “Do you know what they are?”

Kell would not reply.  He seemed to be distant, his face almost slack.  The only hint of emotion was an occasional twitch that looked like anger.

But he did lead them on, able to discern a path through even the most bizarre geometries, through rooms like kaleidoscopes and prisms and other shapes that mundane names could not accurately describe.

“These aren’t here for fun,” Fergus said.  “They must serve a purpose.”

Brooks cleared his throat.  “Has anyone tried looking at a compass?”

Silence fell for a moment.  “Who knows what kind of magnetic field is in this place, it doesn’t seem like a very useful idea,” Nadian replied.

Brooks held up a small, clear plastic piece with a bit of metal in it.  “I have one with me.  Look at what it’s doing.”

The others came closer, and he showed them.

The needle was not still, nor even twitching about.  It simply rotated, slowly and steadily.

“Does that mean there’s a magnetic field moving around us?” Kat asked, looking around.

“There’s no way to tell,” Nade replied, looking up.  “But Fergus is right, there’s a purpose to these rooms.  Our guide,” he stabbed a thumb over his shoulder towards Kell.  “Isn’t much use in figuring them out.”

“Did you want Kell along because you thought we might encounter this higher-dimensionality and you thought he could guide us?” Brooks asked.

“Turned out to be a good guess,” Nadian admitted.

Brooks frowned.  “Unfortunately, it doesn’t bode well.  Are you all wearing krahteon-exposure bands?”

“No,” Nadian said.  Kat shook her head in the negative as well.

“Ach, no, man,” Fergus said.  “Those kraan bands are as dangerous as the tenky rads themselves!  Worse, since you’re guaranteed to be getting them.”

“What?  No, that’s nonsense,” Brooks said.  He had access to the latest research in this, and he read them regularly; even accounts that were unofficial or from those he was skeptical of.  Only in the most idiotic fringe had this idea taken hold, that simply wearing a kraan exposure band was bad for the health.

He glanced at the last of their group, Fromm, who shook his head.

“I’m safe as I am,” Fromm said.

“Do you feel anything?” Brooks asked him.  “Anything strange?”

“Feel?  Just . . . I don’t like the Ambassador,” the man muttered, glancing at Kell with fear.

A lot like Apple, Brooks thought.  “That’s it?  Do you feel anything else?  A pressure or . . . ?”

“No,” the man replied with a shrug.

“This deep into this structure, I’m not too worried about Leviathans,” Nadian said, correctly guessing where Brooks was going.

“Just because one wouldn’t fit in here doesn’t make us safe,” Brooks replied.

“I’ve been into a lot of these temples.  I’ve never even run into a real piece of relic technology, Captain.  I’m not scared.”

“I have more experience with Leviathans and tenkionic matter than anyone,” Brooks replied.  “In my experience, where we’re headed is likely to be more dangerous.  We need to all be wearing monitors.”

“I won’t,” Fergus said.  “Don’t even get yours near me, Captain.  Gods above.”

Brooks did not know how the idea that they were dangerous had gotten started, or why these people believed it.  But he could not change it.

They moved on, the path narrowing to a hallway that seemed different from the others.  It had new markings on the wall, which Nadian, Kat, and Fergus descended on.

“Are those really Kim-Sun Markings?” Fergus asked.

“They are!” Kat agreed, sounding just as pleased.

Nadian took out a book of actual paper, flipping through it until he found a sketch.

“Christ in heaven, is that Kim’s original journal?” Fergus asked.

“Yes,” Nadian replied absently.  “Before he died, he gave it to me.”

Kat frowned.  “You never told me about this, Nade.”

He shrugged it off.  “Didn’t seem to matter until now . . . Look!”

He pointed to a symbol sketched on the paper, then to the marking on the wall.

Brooks leaned in.  The marking changed as his angle did, the entire shape altering as he moved, new entire points and shapes emerging with every new view.

But as he lined his head up just right, he saw that the symbol was a match for the one sketched in the journal.

“It is,” Kat breathed

A look of almost boyish joy was on Nadian’s face.

“But do we know what it means?” Brooks asked.

“Yes,” Nadian breathed, excitement rushing his words.  “Before he died, Kim and Sun almost went mad trying to make heads or tails out of Higher Script.  Not long before . . .” he paused.  “Before their deaths, they had a breakthrough.  After experimenting with mind-altering chemicals, Kim had a vision.”

“A vision while hallucinating?” Brooks asked.  “That doesn’t seem trustworthy.”

“I would normally say the same thing.  But what Kim wrote down has held up.  With it, we’ve been able to translate a few inscriptions we’ve found.  They describe things that are mundane, but specific enough that they’re right.”

He pointed.  “This symbol implies that there is something powerful in this direction.  Not like a power plant or weapons – but knowledge.”

“There’s no path this way,” Brooks pointed out.  “How do we-“

Kell leaned in, reaching over them.  His body, so close, caused Brooks to recoil, a coldness and even an emotional state of annoyance and frustration bleeding off of him.

And not simply through body language; Brooks felt his actual emotions in his own mind, for just a moment.

Kell touched the wall, turning his hand – and then there simply was a path ahead of them.

Brooks looked to Kell, who ignored him, looking away, annoyance showing on his face.

“You find it all incredible and incomprehensible,” he said.  “I am walking down a hallway.”

He turned away, and Brooks looked back to the others.

Nadian shrugged, closing the journal.  “Let’s go,” he said.

This new hall was different yet; unlike the yellowish glow of other rooms, this one’s glow turned blue-toned.

“Everyone wait here,” Nadian said softly.

“Like hell,” Fergus said.  Brooks held a hand up to him.

“If something happens, we need another expert,” Brooks said.

“You’re not robbing me of my glory, Captain!”

Brooks wanted to curse the man out, but he didn’t.  He leaned in closer.  “I guarantee you that you won’t be robbed,” he said quietly.  “But remember that pride begets the fall.”

Fergus seemed to take the words to heart, nodding solemnly.  “Very well, Captain.”

Setting his pack down, Brooks moved after Nadian, down the blue hall.

It seems to rotate, the floor itself shifting in a slow circle.  Why, he did not know, but it made little sense.  Glancing back, he could not even see where he had come from, only a twisting of halls into infinity.

“Damn it,” he muttered.  He couldn’t even see Nadian now.

Creeping forward, he ran into the man suddenly, stopped at a threshold.  On the other side was a room.

It was different than any room they’d found so far.  In it were things.

Words on the walls and ceilings and floors, written in Higher Script.  They were set on panels, floating in the air with no connection to the walls, but always hovered above the same type of pale stone block.

Shapes like panels rose from the floor, like consoles with markings that resembled controls.  They were set high, almost at the level of his chest.  Pillars that reached his waist stood near the consoles – seats.

“What do you make of this?” Nadian asked him.

Brooks saw that the man had not crossed the threshold yet.

And he could not blame him.  This did seem important – important enough to potentially guard.

“A control room of some kind, obviously.”  Brooks pointed.  “There’s four obvious points of traps, if the builders were worried about security.  But I’m not really concerned about intentional traps, so the danger will probably be more obvious.”

Nade let out one scoffing laugh.  “Not bad, Captain.  I see seven points, but you do have some experience.”

He took a careful step forward.  “The pattern here suggests there’s a safe path.”

Brooks was skeptical.  But nothing happened as Nadian stepped in, and after a few paces, he called out.

“It’s safe!”

The others came through behind them, and Brooks stepped in carefully, following the path Nadian had made.  There was a different pattern here, but the part that Nadian had used was not the obvious part of it.  Perhaps he had been right that stepping on the round sections that seemed to invite the feet was simply a trap.

“Watch where you step,” Nade told the rest of the party as they approached.  “Especially you, Fromm.  Don’t touch anything.”

“My god,” Fergus said.  “We’ve found something bloody big here!”

Brooks glanced at him.  “Enough to get your name in the history books.”

Nadian was studying a collection of the Higher Script, about half a meter long.  “These aren’t carved in the wall,” he said.  “We could move it . . .”

“I don’t think we should do that,” Brooks said firmly.

Nade shook his head.  “There’s never been an example of Higher Script that we’ve been able to bring out of a place.  It’s almost always carved in walls, and in the removal it gets destroyed.”

He carefully picked up the edges of the block and lifted.  It came up easily – and the text was intact.

“My god,” Nadian said softly.

“We’re not taking anything,” Brooks said.  “Put it down.”

“This is mine, Captain.  You nor the whole Sapient Union are stopping me.”

“I won’t let you loot this place,” Brooks told him.

“You used to be a looter,” Nadian snapped back.  “I’m an archeologist.”

“There’s a hair of difference between the thing I once rarely did, and what you still do,” Brooks replied.

“Ah, the old grave-robber imperialist idea,” Nadian replied with a laugh.  

Fergus laughed even louder.  “They can call me a grave-robber all they like,” he sneered.  “They won’t have their names in the books.  We’re legends, all of us.  Just for setting foot in this place.”

Kat spoke now, her voice louder.  “These control panels are glowing,” she said.  “There’s power in here.”

The others fell silent, their argument forgotten.

Nadian stepped closer.  “Kat, be careful what you do.  If you move your hand at a wrong angle you might touch something you can’t even see is there.”

Brooks puzzled for a moment, before realizing; if changing your view allowed you see new angles of the Higher Script, then so too might there be controls that they could not see.

“Kell,” Brooks said.  “Is she near a control?”

Kell had entered the room, but stopped just inside it, looking slowly around, studying every surface.  Now, he looked to Kat.

“Yes,” he said.  “She is among the most dangerous.  Do not move.”

“What?!” she said, jerking back in shock – and the room began to shake.

“Kell, what’s happening?” Brooks called.  The room was rattling so hard that he could barely stay on his feet.

“She has awoken the temple,” Kell said simply.

Behind him, the doorway was suddenly filled in, a solid piece of yellow stone filling the entire gap.

They were trapped in the room.

“Hold onto something!” Nadian called.  He staggered towards Kat, grabbing her and throwing an arm around one of the half-height pillars.

“Craton!” Brooks called.  “Craton, come in!  Something has activated!”

He could not get a signal.

---

< Ep 13 part 19 | Ep 13 part 21 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

“Time is up.”

At Jaya’s words, Apollonia paused.  She had been just about to answer the next question.

But at the call, it had grayed out, not letting her even try.

Taking a deep breath, she put down the stylus and her tablet.

She still had eleven questions unanswered.  That was, she was told, not a failure on its own.  There were a lot of questions and the time was very limited.

But she had hoped for better.

After the first round of virtual tests, she had done half the written questions, then alternated back to the last of the virtual tests before coming back to the last of the written ones.  Jaya told her it was for good reasons, forcing her mind to shift back and forth, but Apollonia only felt more and more dizzy from it.

At least the second round of virtual tests hadn’t been as intense as the first had gotten, she thought.

Jaya rose from her desk and came over, taking Apollonia’s tablet and flushing the testing program out after her answers had been fully submitted.

“You completed nearly all the questions,” Jaya said.  “You did a good job.”

“Did I pass?”

“That is not for me to say yet,” Jaya replied.  “It is not a simple calculation.  Your responses will be sent to the nearest Voidfleet Academy proctor station, to be reviewed by a council of officers, regular personnel, and AIs.”

Apollonia’s stomach churned at the thought of so many people seeing her answers.

“I think I did pretty badly on some of the math sections,” she admitted.

“Which will have an effect, but such things can be remedied,” Jaya told her.

“Shit.”

Jaya paused.  “I just want to say, Apollonia, that you cursed quite a lot during the test.  You may want to start considering your language more carefully.”

She offered Apollonia back her tablet.

Taking it and standing, Apollonia glanced at the door.  “Is that really it, then?”

“There is one last thing,” Jaya said, turning much more serious.  “You take an oath not to discuss the test with others.”

Apollonia was surprised, then thought Jaya was joking, but finally she realized that she had read it right; Jaya was serious.

“I can’t talk about it?  Why?”

“It is best if the test remains largely a mystery to people who seek to take it.  It is advantageous for discerning people’s true qualities.”

“Er . . . all right,” Apollonia replied.  “I swear to talk about it to no one.”

Jaya smiled.  “Now, if I were you, I would go celebrate.  You have completed your Officer Candidate Test.”

Apollonia felt her knees shiver a little at that.  She had finally done it . . .

But she still didn’t know.

“How long will it take to get a response from the proctors?” she asked.

“A week or so.  Be patient – you have done all you can.”

Yeah . . . it just might not be enough.

Apollonia nodded.  “Thank you, Jaya, for . . . everything.  You’ve had the patience of a hero.”

Jaya’s smile turned softer.  “It is my job, Apollonia.  You need not make a big deal of it.”

But she did look like she appreciated it.

Leaving, Apollonia made her way to the Observation Deck, and the transparent titanium windows there.  She wanted to look out at the stars.

She could just coast her whole life on just this CR thing, she thought.  So why did she even want this so much?  Just to prove she was good for something more than being just a passive shield for people far more capable than her?

As she reached the Equator, she found she was still treating each moment like it was a problem to solve.  She was almost surprised when the lift just took her where she needed to go without posing some existential problem.

Making her way onto the observation deck, she was startled.

She had actually forgotten where they were, what was going on – but outside of the transparent titanium windows was the massive space temple.

It was so large that it would not even fully fit into the view.  Only the left side of the central structure and its large, wing-like parts could be seen.

Shit.  Here she had been, feeling so heavy over a test, but right now Brooks was in there.

The area was crowded with people wanting to view the temple, some even setting up cameras to take their own videos.  

One man was recording a video for an audience, speaking quietly and gesturing.

It made sense, she thought.  For a long time she’d wondered why people chose to move onto or live on the Craton when it seemed to face a lot of threats.

But eventually she had realized; people were there precisely because of that.  Some people were just drawn to the adventure, to understanding the unknown.

She found a place she could squeeze through the crowd and looked out.

Where was Brooks now?  Was it dangerous in there?  Her imagination, stimulated by years of watching cheap dramas, suggested all sorts of bizarre traps and threats.

She didn’t feel anything from the place, she thought.  Or . . .  no, she likely imagined it.

Yet looking at it now, she did find herself entranced.  There was something about it besides its sheer size that was . . . frightening.

Kell’s warnings to her resounded in her mind.

He was in there, too.

Maybe he wouldn’t come back out, she thought.

But what if he didn’t?  Why had he even given her those warnings?  He didn’t seem to care about her or any of them.  The type who wouldn’t piss on someone to put them out, unless he wanted to do them in himself.

Was that really it?

Why did she even hate him so much?

Her heart pounded in her chest as she realized something; all this time, she had reacted to him the same way everyone had spent their whole life reacting to her.  Hating her.

But no!  He had killed the Embrion attached to Michal Denso, she reminded herself.

Or had he?  Could it really die?  Yes, he had attacked it.  He’d hurt it.  It did just want to be born, but its life would have killed everyone around it.

A part of her still clung to the thought that they could have found a way to not hurt it and keep the rest of them safe.  But she really didn’t know of a way.  She still had no answer.

Kell had tasked her with going on to find a peaceful resolution.  She had tried, but he hadn’t thought it was fast enough.  Maybe he had been right?

The confusion hurt, she did not want to face these thoughts in herself.

But she stayed at the window, looking out.  She could not draw herself away.

---

< Ep 13 part 18 | Ep 13 part 20 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

They detected the far side wall over an hour after entering the temple.

They descended in the starlancar, braking as they dropped.

“There’s gravity pulling us down,” Kat said.  “I’m going to have to land, we can’t hover.”

“Let’s just hope these floors can hold the weight,” Nadian said.

Nothing terrible happened as they landed, and they sent out probes.  There was no appreciable radiation, and observed that the floor appeared to be made of the same stone as the outside.

“There’s even a breathable atmosphere out there, according to the scopes,” Nadian said.  “But I still recommend we wear rebreathers.  You never know what dust is in the air in these old tombs.”

“A tomb?  This is no tomb,” Fergus scoffed.

“Might as well be,” Nadian replied, shoving a bagged rebreather into the man’s hands.

The gravity was appreciable, Brooks noticed.  It was about a third less than Earth, he guessed after a few steps.

The drone porters unloaded supplies, and when Brooks was handed his pack, he noticed that it had been rifled through.  He glanced to Nadian, who smiled and shrugged.  “Kat did a security check.  Just had to be sure.”

“You are not a trusting person.”

“I think it’s justified after that second team you sprang on me,” Nadian replied.

Fergus was standing off to the side, holding up some kind of sensor.  “We’ve gone further in than the depth of the temple,” he said.  “It’s impossible, yet here we are.”

“Your estimates must be wrong,” Kat said flatly.

“Woman-“

Brooks stepped closer.  “May I see?”

Fergus glared at Kat again, but then turned to Brooks, his glare lessening.  “Look.  It’s accurate, our velocity readings are from the ship itself.  We’ve gone almost 30,000 kilometers inside this thing.”

The numbers looked accurate, but Brooks did not have any way to confirm them.  He just nodded.

Kat walked away, and Fergus leaned closer.  “I dinnae trust them, Captain.”

“But you trust me?”

“Aye.  I don’t begrudge you your mission, so long as I get to be a part of the real team – the one that will be going deep.”

“What do you think of this place?” Brooks asked him.  “You must have a theory.”

“Oh, I have scads of them, Captain.  Right now, my bet is that this place is one of the Lost Temples of the Anunnaki – godly beings who came to Earth in ancient eras and taught mankind how to create society.”

Brooks felt some amusement.  “And when was that?”

“Around 6400 years prior to the common era, the Yarmukian culture – the first in the area to develop agriculture.”

“After the Natufians,” Brooks noted.

“Yes, well, they gave it up in the Younger Dryas – they are not the origins of the civilization there.”

“So,” Brooks asked.  “Did the Anunnaki teach the Natufians as well?”

“Enough with the bloody Natufians!” Fergus grumbled.  “The point is, that in the 6th millenium BCE the first ziggurats started to appear, and they greatly resemble this structure.  It’s no coincidence!  We will find signs of the connection further in, I have no doubt!”

Of course he had no doubt, Brooks thought, since his mind was already made up that it existed.

“I’m curious why humans couldn’t have figured out how to pile up bricks,” he asked.

Fergus growled.  “Are you making fun of me, Captain?”

“No.  But we’re talking about my distant ancestors, and I find it reasonable that they were able to think and create without external help.”  He gestured around.  “I feel like if the people who built this came to Earth, they’d have left a much bigger mark.”

“I suspect,” Fergus said, “That they were already greatly declined by that point.”

Nadian came up to them.  “Is Fergus telling you his Anunnaki theories?”

Brooks nodded, and Nadian grinned.  “Careful, Fergus, you might get a real backer.  Don’t know what you’d actually do with real funding.”

Fergus spat at Nadian’s feet and stomped away.

“We’re heading out,” Nadian said to Brooks.  “I hope you’re ready.”

“I am.”

“There’s an entrance to a tunnel about three hundred meters off that way,” Nadian said to the group when they came together.  “We head in, that’s where we’re going to find the interesting stuff.”

Brooks gestured up.  “So this massive area – is it just to impress?”

“Can’t say yet,” Nadian replied.  “We don’t even know what surrounds it.  I suspect that shape is important in this place, like a zerodrive hoop.  If it served some practical purpose, that is.”

They started out, moving at a quick pace.

They came to the entrance leading deeper into the temple soon after; it was only a ramp extending downwards, though many symbols and marks were built into the walls.

Brooks stepped closer, shining a light on them.

He recoiled.  “Look at this.”

Nadian stepped closer.  Brooks swung his light over the image – and it faded.  It was not simply blended out in the brightness, but it had disappeared.

He moved his light away – and it returned.

“Photosensitive,” Nadian muttered.  He looked to the others.  “Be careful what you shine a light on.  We don’t know if some of these might be triggers.”

Brooks turned up the passive light amplification in his HUD, and they began their descent.

After a few tens of meters the ramp led into what seemed a proper complex; the halls were not simple tunnels, but had doors, markings, and varied in dimensions for unknown purposes.

Without their lights, any light from the outside should have shut off quickly, leaving them in blackness.

But the walls themselves seemed to give off a pale yellowish glow; it illuminated little, yet made edges of walls and floors immediately apparent.

They came to a junction, and Nadian stopped, studying the various directions.

“Well,” he said.  “Here we go.”

They picked a path; it took an annoyingly long amount of time to decide as Fergus seemed to want to argue every point.

Ultimately, they settled on a direction and set off.

Brooks found his patience waning as further bickering occurred between Kat and Fergus, and he moved ahead to walk next to Nadian.

“Sure you want to be at the front?” Nadian muttered, scanning the latest intersection.

“I’ve done this before,” Brooks replied.

He noted that something seemed off here.  He could not tell what, though.

The halls were simply wrong.  They stretched off, unlike any they had seen yet, into an impenetrable darkness that consumed any light that entered them.

“Look at the symbols,” Nadian said quietly.  “They’re larger and embedded in sections of brighter color.”

Brooks could see them, but the color – it was there, but faded.  “Radiation fading,” he added.

“This place hasn’t always been as safe as it is right now,” Nadian said, rubbing his face.  He looked around.  “We have to be careful.  We don’t know what might trigger a change.”

“The shifts in the radiation field probably occur on geological time,” Brooks said.

“They could also be artificial,” Nadian replied testily.  “And if we do the wrong thing, we get very, very crispy, very quickly.”

Brooks nodded.  He dug into his bag, taking out a device and placing it against the floor.

“Repeater,” he told Nadian.  “So we can still talk to the outside.  I’ve placed others further back.  Seems wise to put them before this.”

Nadian nodded, and Fergus stepped up next to them, his latest argument seemingly put on hold.

“‘And lo, the People of Jin multiplied’,” the mythologist said softly.  “Jin begat two sons, who begat a whole lot more fuckers.  The bastards spread across the stars ‘unto the furthest corners’.  With them they took the secrets to the cosmos, even how to build into new layers of reality . . . like we now see before us.”  He glanced at the others.  “This is just as described in the Seventh Script of Dueh-Thoth.”

“Which is a fake,” Kat snorted.

“Do not get me started on that!  Parts were faked, but the first and seventh books are well-attested in Dessei records.”

“Thoth,” Brooks said.  “That’s an Egyptian god, the god of knowledge.”

“The Moon, sacred texts, mathematics and science, and magic,” Fergus replied.  “He was also messenger and secretary for the other gods.”

Brooks pressed on.  “You’re claiming they reference him in a Dessei text?”

“It’s a cognate deity,” Fergus said.  “Dueh- their god of the same subjects.  It’s not a basic similarity, either, they share too many things in common for it to be coincidental . . .”

“Here we go,” Nadian muttered.  He seemed fine with the pause, though, as he continued to regard the tunnels, which seemed to demand major decision-making for progress.

“. . . both married to deities of law, they were both self-begotten, bloody hell even their depictions are the same as bird-headed humanoids!”

Fromm, standing near Fergus now, seemed to be listening intently, and the mythologist focused on him, perhaps appreciating an attentive audience.

Brooks looked down the tunnels.

“What do you make of them, Nade?” Kate asked Nadian.

“There’s something just wrong here,” he replied.  He was fingering some small objects in his hand.  “And I can’t tell what.  I don’t like it.”

Brooks looked down each of the three directions, but could only agree.  It was as if they were seeing only a part of the whole; key elements remained hidden somehow, for his mind to fully parse what he was seeing.

“I think these warnings are all the same,” Nadian continued.  “There’s a kind of text I’ve seen in some ancient temples – we call it Higher Script.  It’s . . .”  He laughed once, uncomfortably.  “It’s higher-dimensional.”

“I’ve heard of that,” Brooks said.  “I’ve never seen it.  I always thought it was fictional.”

“Well, it’s real,” Nadian said.  “When you view it from different angles, it changes shape in ways a normal thing shouldn’t.  And I think that means that viewed from different angles it means different things.”

“That,” he said, raising his arm, “Could mean the difference between walking into something interesting and walking into something that’ll kill us.”

He threw one of the objects in his hand; a pebble, down one hall, and it skittered off the stone.

The sound continued, growing quieter but not stopping.

“It’s still going,” Brooks said.  It alarmed him on a level he couldn’t elucidate.

“Yeah, like it’s falling in a weird gravity.  So maybe if we go that way we can’t come back.”

Brooks looked back.  “Kell.  Can you make any sense of this?  It doesn’t make sense to us.”

Kell stepped forward.  “Yes,” he said simply.

“Well, is there anything else?” Nadian asked sarcastically.

Kell regarded him as if he were a worm.  “Stop throwing pebbles, for one.  It is childish.”

Nadian sighed and threw up his hands.

“This way,” Kell said.  He strode forward.

He wasn’t walking down quite any of the paths, but his movement blurred and shifted.

And then he was walking down all three.

“Shit,” Nadian muttered.  “Well, let’s hope that it won’t kill us.”

Brooks rose, but Nadian stepped forward first, heading in the same direction as Kell, which looked like he was about to walk into a wall.

But after some steps, his movement, too, shifted, and he was suddenly visible down all three routes.

“A proper higher-dimensional hallway,” Fergus said.  “Now that is interesting!”

Kat followed Nade, and Brooks followed her.  It was strange to aim yourself to walk into a wall, but as he moved the hall seemed to shift to accommodate his path.

From his point of view, it didn’t even look odd.

Just an optical illusion as you went down it.  He looked back, and saw that the path back likewise seemed to have split into three.

Kell had stopped, waiting for him.  As Brooks stopped, Fergus slipped by him, glancing over and grinning.  “We’re in higher dimensions now!  The builders of this place, they could even build into zerospace!  If we’re lucky we’ll get to learn more about it than anyone alive.”

Brooks glanced to Kell.  “Any truth to that?”

“It is unwise to probe into ignorance,” the Ambassador replied.

---

< Ep 13 part 17 | Ep 13 part 19 >

New to Other-Terrestrial? Check here! Or if you need to, jump to the beginning of the episode here!

---

“Secondary team has landed, two kilometers past the entrance,” Rachel Zhu reported.  “They are beginning safety tests, but so far conditions seem acceptable.”

“Is there an atmosphere?” Cenz asked.  “At the scale of this station, it is possible that the temple’s gravity will hold onto air.”

“They are reporting a thin atmosphere, not breathable,” Shomari Eboh replied.  “Gravity seems to be 70% that of Earth.”

“And the orientation?” Urle asked, frowning.

“Towards the floor . . .” Cenz said.

Urle considered.  “Either they’re using pseudogravity like we can on the Craton, or they’re using active supporting technology and concentric rings of high mass inside to create real gravity.”

“Or,” Cenz suggested.  “A technology we do not understand.”

Urle was surprised to hear that from his science officer – but it was true, they could not be sure.  Pseudogravity technology relied on related krahteonic manipulation – which relic technology also often employed in strange ways.

“Captain,” Shomari Eboh said.  “We’re getting a call from the Raven’s Ghost.  They are registering a complaint.”

“Really?” Urle asked, feeling some amusement.  “Put them through.”

An image appeared of a balding man with a prominent scar on his chin.

“You Union thugs have a lot of nerve, breaking this agreement,” the man said.  “We were told we had exclusive rights to the temple.”

“No, you had first rights.  Which you got.”

“You sent a team in immediately after ours!  They are in direct competition!”

“They are conducting surveys at the entrance and are not going deeper,” Urle said.  “They are not even equipped for it.  Not even if your team gets in trouble.”

The man scowled.  “I want my complaint sent to your command.  You’ll lose your post over this.”

Urle wanted to laugh.  If only the man knew that he was only Acting-Captain right now.

“I’ll pass it along,” he said dryly.

“And tell your people to stay out of Farland’s way,” the man said.

“Your team won’t be hindered.  But you should recall that you do not own this temple or its contents.”

“Of course you lot will seize-“

Urle cut the call.  “If they call to complain again, just let them stew,” he told Eboh.  “Only answer if it’s something actually worth hearing.”

Eboh smiled.  “Yes, Captain.”

Urle leaned back, looking at the temple.  Given its size, it could be days before they learned anything.

Since they had learned of the mission, he had welcomed the workload.  Like many others, he could recall Terris and the events around and after it.

For those who had been there, yesterday had been the date when they had looked at their losses and realized just how severe they had been.  At this time, eight years ago, he had still been hoping for the best while fearing for the worst.

Because he had not been there.  He had been safe, with his two daughters.  Persis had only been one year old, and he had not been on the ship when the alert came in.

But Verena, his wife, had taken her post.  They had spoken, and she had sent the children out to him.

No matter how badly it went, they had reasoned, the girls would still have one parent.

And it had gone badly.

Verena had survived, was still alive, but she was a changed person.  She remembered them, remembered him, but felt nothing – the parts of her brain dealing with emotions had been compromised.

Nothing had been able to heal her.  Their marriage had not survived.

Now, looking at this temple, with nothing to do but wait, those memories could not be shunted away with work.

He took a deep breath.

“Keep me updated on the status of our team and Nadian’s team,” he said calmly.

*******

Apollonia found that she could not help but to drag her feet as she walked towards office suite seven.

Last night she had been told that she’d be coming on this mission, and that she’d be waiting to take her Officer Candidate Test.

Which had been great.

But then Nadian Doucheland had sent her back.

Pet CR, he had called her.  It still rankled.

And since she had returned, Jaya had decided that she’d still have to take the test – the next day.

Her tablet told her the office suite was only a few tens of meters down the hall, but she felt herself slowing.

What if she just . . . didn’t go?  Jaya would be mad.  But maybe if Apollonia told her she had a headache, or was just too agitated . . . something.  Maybe Dr. Y would help.

No, she thought.  He would just convince her to go.  Well, maybe that was an idea, actually.  If he could help pep her back up.

A door down the hall opened, and Jaya stepped out.

Guilt made Apollonia freeze in place.  Jaya’s eyes fell on her.

“Ah, there you are,” she said, smiling slightly.  “I had begun to worry you were not going to come,” she said.  A relieved smile crossed the woman’s face, and Apollonia suddenly felt like scum.

She had been about to do just what Jaya had feared, and here now she could not help but see how tired the woman was.  There were bags under her eyes, stress wrinkles slowly growing there.

An avalanche of realization hit her, and she thought about how much Jaya had given to her; spending hours of time with her, trying to help her to this exact point.

And she had almost backed out because she’d felt a little scared.  Scared of what?  Of getting what she wanted?

She had paused for an awkwardly long time, and Jaya frowned now.  “Apollonia, are you all right?”

“Yeah,” she gushed out.  “Just pre-test jitters, sorry!  I’m here.”

Jaya nodded and opened the door for her.  Apollonia smiled at her, forcefully beaming, and Jaya started to look a little confused.

Well, here she was.  In the office, she thought, looking around.

In her mind it would be a far more intimidating room, perhaps with strange equipment all over to study her.  Or else a totally blank room, all white.

But it was just a normal office.  A small work table for her, a larger one for Jaya, and a lot of open area for moving when she was in VR.

“I consulted with Nurse Boziak about how best to track you, given the difficulties you have with the technology,” Jaya said.  “I came up with this.”

She took out a shirt, which had silvery tracker disks sewn into it.

“They are just reflectors, but the VR headset was adjusted by Engineering to have very good tracking.  I hope it will work for you.”

“Thank you,” Apollonia said, feeling a burning of appreciation and shame again in her chest.  This was a lot of effort.

“We want to make sure people get a fair chance,” Jaya said.  “Now, put it on, and these trousers.”

The light-weight garments fit right over her own, and weighed almost nothing.  She was barely aware she even had them on over her normal clothes, though when she looked down at them, she saw that they did look ridiculous.

“Would you like to start with the virtual or the written test?” Jaya asked her.

She felt more nervous about the written test than the practical.  If she started with the practical it might help her warm up.

“I want to start with the VR.”

“Are you sure?” Jaya asked.  “It is your choice, but the written test starts with simple questions for which there are no wrong answers.  The virtual test begins immediately into proper problems that expect a general skill in basic ship life.”

“Virtual,” Apollonia said firmly, though now she was not as certain inside.

She put on the headset, its weight so little she was barely aware of it.

The room still looked the same, but a nameplate hovered over Jaya’s head indicating that she was a real person.

A door that she hadn’t seen before opened on the far wall, and . . . Jaya walked in.

She looked just like the real thing, down to her stride.

Apollonia lifted the visor.

Only the Jaya behind the desk was still there.

“Apollonia, you are not in trouble for this breach, but you must not lift the visor until instructed.”

She had been told that in her prep sheets.  “Right, sorry.”

“I know it must have been slightly startling, but this is part of the test,” Jaya added.

Nodding and swallowing, Apollonia put the headset back on.

The second Jaya was still there, and now there was Brooks as well.

They both approached her, but Jaya walked past her, to her other side.

“Apollonia,” Brooks said from her right.  “I have an optional mission for you.  A team on the planet below has discovered objects that they believe are relic technology.  Would you be willing to go down there to help?”

Jaya spoke from her left.  “Apollonia, do not forget that you agreed to take a shift on the command deck crew.  You are still on the schedule for that.”

Words appeared, glowing, on her screen.

“What is the appropriate behavior in this situation?”

Apollonia hesitated, her insides going blank.  But wait, this wasn’t that hard a situation, was it?

She looked to Jaya.  “I’ll apply to the coverage board to see if anyone can cover for me.”  She turned to Brooks.  “I’m going to try and find someone to cover for me so I can go, Captain.”

Both figures nodded, but new words appeared on her screen.  “You are unable to find someone to replace you.”

Well that, er . . . kind of sucked.  She looked to Jaya, feeling guilt already.  “Jaya, I can’t find anyone to cover for me.  What should I do?”

Jaya froze and more words appeared.  “While normally it is appropriate to ask supervisors for assistance, in this instance you must come to a solution on your own.”

She frowned.  “Okay, Jaya – I’m sorry, the Captain wants me for a mission that only I can do.  I can’t be on the command deck.”

Jaya frowned.  “Apollonia, you cannot simply blow off such a duty.”

“I’m the only one who can protect that team if there’s a danger!” she protested.

Jaya sighed.  “Very well.”

Both figures disappeared.

END SCENARIO appeared on her screen.

Well . . . had she done well?  She didn’t even know.

Another scenario appeared; in this one she was introduced to a new person – who she presumed was fictitious.

He was wronged by another crewman, and she witnessed it.  She was tasked with what to do.

It wasn’t a hard one to navigate.  But they began to build upon it – the next one involved the man who had been wronged, but now he was stealing unindexed sweets.

Not even a lot; just a handful.  When she said something to him, he argued that he’d had a lot of stress lately with the other crewmember . . .

Was she supposed to report him?

She wasn’t sure.  His excuse was lame, but should she really get him in trouble for stealing some freaking candy?  It wasn’t like it was a huge amount.

She ended up just telling him she had seen him and warned him not to do it again, she didn’t want him to get in trouble.

The cynical part of her thought she was probably supposed to turn him in.

But was that really what they wanted?  This was the Sapient Union, and so often when she’d thought such things, they had turned out to be wrong.

They only continued to get more difficult; scenarios started to become less about ethics.  Instead, she had to deal with unclear orders under stress, real-world issues that tested her math or science skills, spatial awareness.

And then the Craton was under attack.

It had all felt so real, the only break being those times when characters disappeared.  People she knew appeared peppered within the scenarios, and they both looked and acted just like she’d expect.

By now, she almost believed it was real.

She was there as part of the hull was torn open.  She saw a man fly out, a piece of debris shredding him.  The blood and gore was brief, as he was sucked away, but it looked so real she gasped.

Her uniform suit let out a pop, the hood flying over her head and sealing.  Her breathing echoed in the tiny space, and she didn’t know if her hood really had popped or if it was just the simulation.

She panted for breath, watching the air levels plummet in the corridor around her.  A security door had closed between her and the void, but the bulkhead was riddled with holes and air was still leaking out.

Another door started to close behind her.

Apollonia had to only move a few feet to get through to safety on the other side of the closing door, and she wondered if this was only to test how she handled stress.  She moved through to the side of safety.

Then she saw another crew member running towards her, mouth moving in a call for help.

He’d never make it in time, she realized.  She knelt, waving him forward, but the bulkhead shut before he could get there.

There was a small window of transparent titanium on the door, and she looked through.  The man’s suit had popped to cover his head, and she could see his panicked face through it.

There was another door off to the side, and Apollonia began to point, yelling for him to try that one.  She had learned how to open this blast door, but . . . she could get sucked out.  Others would be endangered if she did that.  And that would close more doors behind her, so they’d end up in just a new airless compartment.

The man finally saw her pointing and went to the door.  It opened, and he went in, but she could see his face in the window.  His expression turned to horror, and he mouthed;

“Hole in suit”.

Oh shit.  These suits had very little air storage; mostly just CO2 scrubbing.  She didn’t have much herself, but she had more than he did.

The words appeared; “What do you do?”

She tried calling for help, but the airwaves were full of static and partial cries from others.  Her calls went unanswered.

That crewman would die if she did nothing.

She tried to think.  What supplies were nearby?

Looking around, she saw an emergency cabinet.  Tearing it open, she found air tanks inside, and a suit patch.

She ran back over, mouthing for him to check the room he was in.  He couldn’t understand her, and when she held up the kit, he got excited, waving for her to come to him.

She could do that.  It was the only way he’d live.

“Fuck it,” she muttered.

Checking the integrity of her suit, she then opened the door, remembering at the last moment to hook herself by a strong tether to the wall so she wouldn’t get sucked out.

The air blasted out at her feet, but rapidly tapered off as the air pressure dropped.  A new door started closing behind her, and once the one in front of her was open enough, she went out.

There wasn’t much of a gap to cross, but she felt legitimately terrified.  It did not seem like a test anymore.

The man opened his door, and she came inside.

A shrill alarm went off in her ear; the radiation alert.  She gasped out loud.

“What is it?” the man yelled, pressing his helmet against hers to transfer some of the sound.

She didn’t reply.  Instead, she looked down at her arm, where there was a radiation exposure meter.  The man’s suit must have been too damaged to warn him.

She froze as she saw the reading; it was already in the red.

“Radiation,” she said, her voice wan.

The man didn’t get that, but took from her the patch kit and air tank.  He was gasping, but started to look a little better after he got the seal on.

Then he threw up.

It covered his screen, and he staggered away from her.

The suddenness almost made her ill, and she looked away, thinking on her training and exposure helping Zey down on Ko.  She’d seen worse than that, she’d seen worse than that . . .

But she also knew what it meant.  The man’s radiation exposure was huge.

Her alarm was still going off.  Every moment her exposure was getting worse.

She grabbed his arm, and started to pull him towards the door.  He resisted going outside, but she yelled at him, and he finally relented, seeming to lack the strength to resist.  His arm felt real in hers.

They went out, and she could only hear her panting in her ears as she walked along the floor, mag-boots activated, towards the other door she’d opened.  Getting him in, she closed it behind them.

There was still no air in this compartment.  But . . . but maybe the door would protect them from radiation.  That was part of its purpose, after all.

She started panting, but she realized that her vision was going black in the edges of her vision.

“Wh-what?” she asked.

Everything went black and she let out a yelp of fear.

Then, all at once everything reverted to normal.

She was back in the room.  The gravity, which she hadn’t even noticed turning off, gradually came back so she could find her footing.

Jaya was still behind the desk, watching her.

“That one is a little stressful,” she said calmly.  “I suggest you take several minutes to calm yourself before beginning the written test.  If you have any calming games on your tablet, I recommend playing one for a time.”

Apollonia stared at her in shock.

Jaya glanced up.  “The second half will be later,” she said.  “But once your break is over, you must continue – if you wish to complete the test.”

Slowly, Apollonia climbed to her feet.

“Did I die?” she asked.  “I-in the sim, I mean.  Did I fail?”

Jaya only watched her.  “I am not allowed to tell you the results yet.”

“But how would I know what I got right and wrong in case I need to take it again!?”

Jaya listened to her protest with interest.  “That is the point, candidate.  Sometimes, there is no right answer, only better or worse ones.  We observe how you approach them.”

Apollonia moved over to her seat behind her desk, sitting down heavily.

This was not how she had thought this would go.

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< Ep 13 part 16 | Ep 13 part 18 >