Scions of Humanity - A Metaphysical Space Opera Adventure (Aeon 14
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Symbolic more than practical, the Mars 1 ring’s construction would be started by bringing a thousand kilometers of the fallen ring back into orbit, where it would be the foundation for a new ring wrapping around the planet.
It was only a fraction of the ancient ring that lay on Mars, but the rest would remain where it had fallen—a memorial to the billions who had died when the ring came down.
Looking over the status reports, she saw that the lift crews were all ready to begin their task, waiting only for her to reach the I2 so she could give the speech that would kick off the event.
Tanis resisted the near-overwhelming urge to groan, turning her attention to the other ships arrayed around Mars, the planet’s outer orbits filled with vessels from across the system and stars beyond, each one eager to watch the momentous occasion. The innermost orbits were occupied by ISF ships, hundreds of destroyers and cruisers, all ready to ensure the safety of the lift, as well as the ship that carried their leader.
Is that what I am, still? Tanis wondered.
In addition to returning her Marines to their families, Tanis had to decide what to do with the ISF ships that comprised the backbone of the AoS fleets. Hundreds of thousands of her people—people who had long ago left Sol in order to find peace—still served aboard those ships, their loyalty to her keeping them from friends and family.
She had asked if they would like to return home, frequently and in many different fashions. Each time, everyone she spoke with said they were proud to serve, that they’d see the mission through to its end.
The problem was, so far as Tanis could see, there was no end to the mission. Not until the core AIs were found and destroyed, not until the galaxy truly found peace. Until then, she couldn’t rest, couldn’t let her guard down.
The last time I thought I could rest, everything fell apart, and I had to put it all back together again.
The shuttle touching down on the I2’s deck brought her thoughts back to the present, and she shifted in her seat as her door was opened, the smiling face of the person she most wanted to see just then standing over her.
“Welcome home, Tanis.”
“Joe.” She breathed the word like it alone had the power to remove every one of the pressures on her.
Rising from the pod, she stepped into his arms, letting his warmth and eternal calm seep into her, reminding her that no matter what happened, he would always be there, her rock, steady and ready to lend a hand against whatever life threw at them.
“Stars, I’ve missed you,” she whispered.
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “We saw each other this morning.”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t have to listen to people whining about shit all day.”
The chuckle turned into a laugh. “Maybe not, but folks in the military have their own way of applying pressure.”
Tanis looked into his eyes. “Oh yeah? Wanna trade jobs?”
“Stars no. Not in a million years. You totally got the short end of the stick.”
“Speaking of the short end of the stick.” Tanis looked around at the people milling about in the ship’s cavernous dock. “I didn’t see the Carthage out there. Was Jessica not able to make it?”
Joe shook his head. “She’s dealing with an uprising out beyond the Stillwater Nebula. Turns out a few systems out there banded together into an alliance, and as their first order of business, they attacked Serenity.”
“Shit,” she muttered. “If it isn’t one thing, it’s another. You’d think that everyone would be tired of war.”
“Yeah…have you met humanity?”
“In our lifetime?” Joe asked.
Tanis smiled, glad they were all finally back together. Normally, the I2 was at Earth, orbiting High Terra, with Tanis and Angela returning there each night. But Bob had wanted to be at Mars to see the momentous event, and so the ship had traveled between the two planets so its AI could witness the ring’s reconstruction.
She laughed, a lightness returning to her steps.
Tanis made a mental note to dig back into that later.
They reached the steps leading up to the platform, and Joe planted a kiss on Tanis’s cheek, whispering words of encouragement in her ear before their intertwined hands separated, and she walked toward the podium.
The crowds had already begun to filter toward her, some taking the seats closest to the stage, while others remained standing in the back. She gave them a moment to get settled, and turned to look out the bay doors behind her.
Mars filled the view, but she refused to give any melancholy thoughts purchase in her mind, determined for this to be a successful event and a happy memory.
Tanis turned back to the crowd, a thousand upturned faces staring at her. She recognized every last one of them, from long-time friends, to compatriots in the war, to those working to rebuild the galaxy into a place that welcomed all sentients, human, uplifted, or non-organic.
Even those who had ascended.
She smiled at the crowd, savoring the moment, then stepped forward, transmitting her voice through sonic emitters around the platform.
“Welcome, everyone. Welcome to what is one of the most symbolic post-war events any of us are likely to see.” She paused and glanced over her shoulder, blinking away tears of joy before turning back to the crowd.
“Mars. I was born there, raised in a house on the shores of the Melas Chasma. Like any Marsian kid, I climbed Olympus Mons, I swam with dolphins, diving into some of the most magnificent canyons in the Sol System. The world behind me was home, and Mars 1 was the glittering jewel in the sky that drew me toward it, toward the stars, toward the galaxy.
“Mars 1 was the first planetary ring humanity ever built, though it wasn’t the first to fall. The first ring to come down was Insi, the Andersonian ring built around Ceres. I remember splunking through its forgotten ruins in ages past, the forgotten remains of a people all but destroyed by war all around me. I climbed through parts of Mars 1 as well, visiting pla
ces that meant something to me—those that were still intact.
“When Insi fell, it did so at the hands of Psion. A harbinger of the ongoing struggle humans would have with the nascent species we had created. When Mars 1 fell, it was incontrovertible proof that we were still more than willing to slaughter one another without any non-organic involvement.
“There’s a difference between forgiveness and absolution. I can forgive the Jovians who burned Mars, Luna, and Earth. I do so, not for them, but for me. I cannot heal while I carry that anger inside of me. I have to let it go. I cannot, however, absolve them of their crimes. Were any still alive, I would see them tried and convicted for crimes against sapience.
“And though Mars 1 fell thousands of years ago, we still find ourselves trapped in the same cycle of violence. Still arguing over resources, beliefs, imaginary pecking orders, when the entire universe is at our fingertips! We’re beginning to ascend, both metaphysically and technologically. Though the release of hyper-tech is slow and measured, it will come. We will see unlimited energy, unlimited resources, a future beyond these crude bodies. It’s all within our grasp….”
Tanis’s voice fell to a whisper. “Everything, everything we could ever want can be ours. We just have to stop fighting over scraps on the floor when there is a feast on the table above us. Until we can do that…well, no one can truly enjoy what the future might have in store.”
She turned to face Mars again. “To me, this is a symbol. Reconstruction of the first ring—the first time humanity had a glimpse of what might be possible—means we’ve reached a point where we are truly poised to look into the future and take hold of what it has for us.
“I want us all to have that future. A time when we will not want, when we can travel the stars forever, seeing all the wonders the universe has in store—maybe even someday finding life that didn’t come from Earth. What would all of you like our legacy to be when we finally encounter other species? One of hope and love, or one of chaos and destruction?
“So stand with me. Honor our past while embracing hope and optimism for the future. There are millions of quadrillions of sapiens in the galaxy, all spread from the one small seed that is Earth…Let’s create a legacy we’re proud to leave in the universe for all eternity.”
She glanced up at the bay’s overhead, a kilometer above them. “Bob? Tell them to take it away.”
Bob’s heady tones washed over Tanis and the crowd like a breeze on a warm fall day.
Holodisplays sprang to life in the air above Tanis, each showing different views of the lift project. She tapped into them, overlaying the visuals on her HUD while watching the planet slowly pass below them.
The tugs were first off the ground, the webbing they held stretching tight until their upward motion was arrested by the weight below.
Much of the rock and soil around the segment of ring being lifted had been cleared away, but there was still millions of tons of dirt on the structure. As the grav drives began their work, that dirt began to sift off, pouring down the sides of the ring, creating ruddy clouds around the site.
Centimeter by centimeter, the thousand-kilometer-wide ring segment rose into the air. The object was so large that, from the I2’s vantage, it appeared as though half the planet was shuddering its way into space.
A few relieved whispers filtered through the crowd.
Unless something catastrophic occurred, the ring would move into space and settle into geosynchronous orbit around Mars.
Don’t jinx it, Tanis chided herself. We’re not there yet.
Tanis’s thoughts turned to Finaeus. She wished he could have been present—the ancient engineer had been there for the construction of Mars 1 over seven thousand years ago…he would have loved to be a part of bringing it back into being now.
She pushed those thoughts out of her mind. It was impossible to think about him without thinking about Tangel, and that wasn’t a place she could go just now.
Not if I want to stay remotely focused.
The lift was scheduled to take thirty hours, so Tanis descended the platform’s steps as automatons began to circulate the crowd, offering hors d'oeuvres and refreshments to those assembled.
“Well said.” Joe took her arm, and she tapped into her reserves of emotional strength to keep from completely sagging into him.
“It was totally off the cuff. I don’t think I lost the plot, though.”
“Not even a little,” he replied. “And you reinforced your message. We have to break the cycle of violence. We have to end war.”
“Or at least make it more manageable,” a voice said from nearby. “That would be a start.”
Tanis turned to see Diana approaching with Petra at her side, and smiled at the pair.
With the war over, the Scipian empress no longer wore her scorpion body, and Petra’s wings were no longer covered in soot and blood. In fact, both were resplendent in white—the empress in long, draping robes, and her consort in a shimmering skinsheath.
“That would be a start I could live with,” Tanis said. “Hopefully, Scipio can be an example to everyone—a massive empire ending internal conflict through eradicating scarcity.”
“I’m certainly giving it my best shot,” Diana replied, her lips twisting to the side. “Problem is, people are convinced that the grass is greener on the other side, that someone else has a larger slice of the pie. It’s not going to be something that we solve overnight.”
“Or in a generation,” Petra added. “The Transcend has been without want for centuries—or, it should have been. Yet even there, conflict reared its head from time to time.”
Tanis nodded. “Of course, but the Transcend, barring this recent period, has shown itself to be the largest, most peaceful group of humans in history. The lessons learned there will certainly apply to our collective future.”
“I’ll grant you that,” Petra inclined her head. “But you know what they say about pearls and swine.”
“Hey now,” Tanis held up a hand. “Don’t besmirch the genesis of bacon. Pigs are divine.”
The empress barked a laugh. “I love your consistency, Tanis. That’s what makes you such a great leader.”
“It is?” She glanced at Joe. “I’m consistent?”
“Stars,” he shook his head, a ready laugh on his lips. “You’re as consistent as the progression of galaxies. To be honest, that’s probably your best trait. You’re unwavering in your devotion and determination.”
“Why not?” Petra winked. “There’d be more room for you.”
“That sounds a little dirty,” Diana said, a lascivious glint in her eye.
“Oh stars,” Petra rolled her eyes and took Diana’s arm. “Come, let’s go talk to someone terminally boring to get you back under control.”
“You see how she treats me?” Diana asked over her shoulder as Petra led her away. “You’re the one who got us back together. I blame you.”
“You’re welcome!” Tanis called after them, shaking her head at the empress’s audacity. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen the two of them so happy.”
Joe snorted a laugh. “That place has the strangest culture. I still can’t believe that starting the original alliance with them actually worked. That was a genius idea on Sera’s part.”
“She’s a smart cookie. Too bad she’s not here today.”
“None of them are,” Joe said, glancing around. “I would have expected Seraphina to be.”
Tanis reached up, fiddling with a loose curl of hair. “She’s figuring out what to do with the IPE. They’re having a major schism over joining the galactic community.”
“Gotta love it,” he replied. “The ASN is up your ass about wanting more tech, more gates, more everything, and places like the IPE are more than happy to be isolationist.”
“It’s a wide, wide galaxy…and we only occupy a tiny sliver of it.”
Joe nodded. “Though not as tiny as we thought.”
“Wow.” Tanis’s eyes widened. “How old’s the civ? It must have taken them forever to get out that far.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a round of gladhanding with the delegation from Hyades, one of which gave Tanis a strange feeling that they’d met before.
“So, how many lost colonies does that make?” Joe asked when they were free again.
Before Tanis could reply, Bob’s voice came over the Link.
“Stars…” she whispered. “This might actually go off without a hitch.”
Joe’s eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled at Tanis. “You two…so superstitious.”
“I’m not superstitious,” Tanis countered. “And I think we’re at forty-seven ‘lost’ civs? Though, to be honest, most of them aren’t lost, they’re just deliberately segregated from the rest of us.”