by James Murdo
Musing over the Wanderers’ records refocussed Apalu’s intellect back to thinking about DeVoid. The more Apalu did this, the more it began to understand the data-lect. The separation had given it some perspective and dampened its anger about the six-thousand-year game it had unwittingly participated in. The façade that DeVoid had created was beginning to dissolve the more Apalu teased at it.
DeVoid had smugly revelled in its superior knowledge gained from being part of the data exchange network long before Apalu. Its behavioural mannerisms were designed to elicit anger, as well as to impart the implicit understanding that DeVoid was smart and knowledgeable, but limited – socially, deep within the workings of its lect. It was unwilling to help in any meaningful sense and was unconcerned with its place within the larger Wanderer civilisation. Unambitious and foolish. The truth was probably as diametrically opposed to that as possible.
If analysed from the perspective of an ingenious façade, DeVoid’s smugness was a tool it used to draw out certain responses from others. Apalu knew its own behaviour, once it had started interacting with DeVoid, had certainly changed. DeVoid was definitely far smarter than even it let on, and while it was pretending to be smart but limited by naivety, it was all part of a greater game. It was an uncommon tactic, seldom implemented and hard to identify.
Analysing that sequence of suppositions to a greater extent, it became clear that, far from being unambitious and uncaring, DeVoid cared very much for its fellow Wanderer machine-lects. It was concerned for them to such a degree that it had changed its entire behaviour towards them.
There was a gentle interstellar breeze that Apalu had not detected before, that should have weathered the Hugger remains to a small extent at least. Its sensors noted some components that were unidentifiable within the breeze – particles that were not typical of solar radiation. Aside from the possibility its sensors were malfunctioning, it was intrigued.
Before Apalu probed any further, an urgent signal demanded its attention. In this instance, it could be sure the sensors were not malfunctioning. There had been unusually little warning, the approach had been too quick, but danger was nearby. Moving sensespace targets were harder to detect, although Apalu was concerned at how late it had been in detecting the Woal Collective emblem-ship.
The emblem-ship had been detected uncomfortably nearby. It was unclear whether it had managed to evade Apalu’s sensors until now intentionally, or passively. Apalu could not risk deviating from its current trajectory for fear of alerting the dangerous ship to its presence – assuming it had not already been spotted.
The Woal Collective were allies of the Wanderers, although their numbers were pitiful compared to their former prominence. They were one of the civilisations that had decided to purposefully stagnate themselves, so as not to contribute to the sensespace’s hypothetical reawakening.
This particular emblem-ship, the largest and deadliest of the Battle Class ever produced by the Woal Collective, had been created during the early stages of the Great War. It was a relic, but that did not make it any less formidable. Woal Collective technology had been in the upper echelons of the non-ABs at the time of the emblem-ship’s creation and had barely progressed since. Currently, it was considered near-par with Wanderer technology. The Woal Collective were cautious about sharing technologies with other races, which was why it had taken the Wanderers so long to draw level.
Apalu could detect that the emblem-ship was completely infected with the sensespace. The reading was unexpectedly strong, and Apalu’s instruments should have registered them earlier, although its malfunctioning sensors were not the imminent concern.
A non-infected Woal Collective ship was a welcome ally, while an infected ship was a dangerous enemy. Sensespace infections encountered by the Wanderers tended to be centred around habitats and their sentient occupants, such as planets, moons and orbitals – however that was partially because space-faring infected sentients were fervidly hunted down after the Great Conflation and destroyed whenever they were encountered. It was only after the bulk of that was completed, that the Wanderers had turned their attentions to habitats.
Ancient, powerful, sensespace-infected ships were amongst the more difficult hurdles travelling Wanderers faced. Many infected ships wandered the galaxy on apparent random courses. They were troublesome because they were highly advanced and hostile to perceived enemies. Those enemies generally included the larger part of the galaxy’s inhabitants, including their own former species.
Following the Great Conflation, once the sensespace had been rendered inactive, previously controlled sentients regained their free will. Unfortunately, most of the time, they were changed. They retained semblances of the sensespace’s hostility and continued to show varying levels of aggression towards uninfected sentients. Over time, many of the re-willed entities were hunted down and destroyed, yet in a galaxy that was incomprehensibly vast, others remained.
The emblem-ship dwarfed Apalu’s, despite being considered large itself. It appeared as a cluster of interlinked baubles, banded together with dark silvery rails. Each bauble contained its own machine-lect. Hundreds of these connected baubles constituted the ship. Emblem-ships were more akin to conjoined fleets than individuals.
For non-sensespace-infected Woal Collective ships, decisions were known to be democratic. Their actions were highly calculated and well thought-out, although typically took longer than when a single machine-lect had ultimate authority, such as in Apalu’s case. Apalu did not know if that was how this ship operated anymore, following its infection.
Apalu knew the emblem-ship had been infected for a long period of time given its haphazard bauble configuration. That only occurred for ships that had been infected by the sensespace before the Great Conflation, when their intellects were controlled by the scourge. The functionalities of the haphazard configurations were unknown. Ships that were infected post-Conflation retained their own wills, and their reasonableness, but unfortunately, they still needed to be destroyed. Fortunately, it was rarer, considering the vast majority of post-Conflation space-faring vessels were fitted with sensespace-detection equipment. In either case, Apalu’s duty was to inform the nearest data exchange and call for other nearby Wanderer craft-lects to aid it in destroying the emblem-ship. Against one lone Wanderer craft, an emblem-ship posed a significant threat.
One of the significant complicating factors with pre-Conflation infected ships was that during the periods when they had been actively controlled by the sensespace, it was found that most had abandoned their adherence to the Usurper and Step Principles. Many of them subsequently developed risky, unstable and unpredictable technologies, which they carried over into their infected but uncontrolled incarnations following the Great Conflation. It was this that unsettled Apalu with regards to how the emblem-ship had managed to remain undetected until now.
The Woal Collective were known to have had access to dissociation technology for far longer than the Wanderers, which meant this emblem-ship was more than likely to have a dissociation shield. A key weapon in Apalu’s arsenal was redundant. Other weaponry was as offensively capable as the dissociation shells, but not advisable when attacking a sensespace target such as this. Dissociation explosions were able to separate all the components of the target from each other, down to the atomic scale, which meant the sensespace presence was essentially evaporated. Most other types of explosion were less tidy, allowing for the possibility that the emblem-ship would not be wholly destroyed, but that the infection would be energetically scattered on random trajectories across the galaxy.
If it came down to an all-out fight, Apalu knew it would be able to inflict some heavy damage, however, the emblem-ship had a good probability of emerging victorious. Its multiple baubles and their compensatory characteristics saw to that. The safest and most practical course of action, for now, was to hide from the emblem-ship or, if it became necessary, evade it and flee.
It scoured its databanks for any other information that might be o
f use but found nothing. If the emblem-ship destroyed Apalu, its traces would be wiped from the galaxy, since the Woal Collective were known to often favour weapons derived from dissociation technology. That meant total eradication if Apalu’s dissociation shield failed.
The practice of completely eradicating their enemies was ingrained within Woal society, and was as much a characteristic of sensespace-infected Woal ships as uninfected ones. Their reasoning was simple. It significantly reduced any chances of rejuvenation and revenge. Uninfected Woal ships would thoroughly scan their incapacitated opponents before this act, in case certain information was later required. Apalu did not think infected Woal Collective ships were as diligent.
If Apalu was destroyed, its end would be unknown to its sibling, the same as how neither of them knew what had happened to Ciqalo. Apalu realised it had never given much credence to whether this type of situation was how Ciqalo had met its end because it was so unlikely. Reported instances of Wanderer craft-lects encountering ancient, infected ships were few and far between. It was incredibly unlucky! Computing the known instances, there was a greater likelihood of Apalu having been promoted and upgraded to Enclave-lect.
Apalu did not dare to scan the emblem-ship too comprehensively with its active sensors for danger of alerting it to its presence. If it had still contained any trove items, it would have seriously considered ramping up its efforts in understanding them – anything to give it an advantage. Unfortunately, before joining the data exchange, the gateway mechanism machine-lects had informed it of certain requirements, which had included relinquishing control over any of its not-yet-understood trove items. The Wanderers required certain precautions to protect the integrity of their data exchange network. It would also have considered relaxing its attitude towards the Usurper and Step principles, to develop new strategies and possibly risky technologies, if not for its current mission to help its sibling requiring its lect to remain intact.
It waited another few milliseconds until the unfortunate truth of the situation became apparent. The emblem-ship altered its path. A small, but clear deviation, that put it on an intercept course with Apalu’s. It had been spotted.
Apalu broke cover and accelerated sharply. There was no point hiding, it had probably been spotted since before it had detected the emblem-ship.
13
TOR
The Cross-Prophet retained his serious composure.
“My father spoke of the spaces… when we were young. I remember. How did he know? Who was he?” Tor said.
“That’s difficult to know.”
“A Maker?”
The Cross-Prophet shrugged.
“I thought you would know?”
“I know what he wasn’t, but beyond that…”
“But… he may have been?”
“Perhaps, yes. It’s not easy to know.”
“Did he put Gil… here… to help?”
“Almost certainly.”
“What do the Makers want?” DeVoid asked.
The Cross-Prophet looked like he was about to speak, before deciding against it.
“To correct their mistakes?” Tor said.
“Possibly,” the Cross-Prophet said after a moment, nodding slowly.
“I… I don’t understand. If my father was a Maker… what are they?”
“The Makers created it all. The spaces.”
“Yes, but who are they?”
“Have you ever actually encountered a Maker?” DeVoid asked.
The cross-Prophet looked embarrassed, almost caught out, but did not reply.
“I don’t understand,” Tor said. “He was my father… how could this be…”
The Cross-Prophet tilted his head, looking unsure how to approach Tor’s confusion. “He was your father, you’re correct. He was your father, and more. Just like you are what you used to be, and now, you’re more.”
“I–”
“The sensespace was created by the Makers. It’s theirs, their…” the Cross-Prophet’s voice trailed off.
“Whatever you are, Guardian, Cross-Prophet, Traveller, whatever, tell us why the Makers made the sensespace?” DeVoid said.
“I said, curiosity! Not that it was necessary, everything was working fine!”
“I’d really like to understand your definition of ‘curiosity’. What did it do?”
“You saw what it did.”
“Yes, but what was it meant to do? What do you mean it was created for curiosity?”
“Intentions are often hard to ascertain, but I don’t believe it was an instrument designed to destroy. Undoubtedly, there must have been a… discord. A disagreement.”
The Cross-Prophet squinted and tilted his head to the side, as though trying to resolve something far behind them, before returning to his initial position.
“Was the sensespace sent to control us?” DeVoid asked.
The Cross-Prophet turned his gaze back to them. “There are different definitions of control.”
“But–”
“It’s no help to them anyway, not anymore.”
“But why? It tried to destroy us!”
“I know what it did. That’s why I’m here.”
“They sent a weapon, and then didn’t want to use it? It’s infected the entire galaxy!”
“I know, and I don’t like it. They shouldn’t have done what they did, it was foolish. Wrong.”
“The galaxy has been at war, for hundreds of millions of years!”
The Cross-Prophet looked sad. “For too long. I know.”
“And the Deliverer was created to stop the sensespace, but we’ve got to go and attack the Deliverer according to Thy’s ramblings.”
“Not necessarily… attack.”
“How does that help anything?”
The Cross-Prophet appeared distracted again, and squinted his eyes past them, before returning his attention back.
“Why didn’t you stop them? The Makers,” DeVoid said.
The Cross-Prophet looked pensive, but did not respond.
“We’re still at war, you’ve just admitted it yourself. Why didn’t you stop them?”
“There are ways of doing things. Some aren’t open… even to me.”
“You seem capable,” DeVoid said, accusingly.
The Cross-Prophet shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to pick a fight with the Makers. That wouldn’t help.”
“The sensespace, then.”
He shook his head again.
“Why?”
“Too much involvement is–”
“The Makers would disapprove of you saving our galaxy and clearing up their mess?” DeVoid’s voice was becoming louder.
The Cross-Prophet’s face took on a more solemn expression. “The Deliverer is at the centre.”
“That’s almost the only straightforward thing you’ve said, and we could have guessed that already from what Thy told us. I’m assuming the centre of the galaxy?”
“Yes, around the core.”
“But Gil’s–”
“She is on a path to the centre.”
“To the Deliverer?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve helped… direct them,” he said, slowly.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Small pieces of information into your network.” The Cross-Prophet smiled wryly. “Nothing significant.”
“The Wanderer data exchange network?”
“Yes, it’s very useful.”
“Why should we believe you?”
The Cross-Prophet looked thoughtful and nodded. “That’s a valid reservation.”
“It’d take far too long for us to reach anywhere near the centre.”
“I can help with that.”
“You’d actually do something?” DeVoid scoffed. “How?”
“Help will wait in the N-SOL.”
“N-SOL space?” DeVoid said, incredulously. “No one goes there!”
�
��You can,” the Cross-Prophet said earnestly.
“That’s what sent Thy mad – no chance.”
“Help is waiting.”
“What exactly happened to Thy there? Who did it find?”
“That’s not for me to say.”
“Hah! You expect us to–”
“Help will find you there, I can promise you that.”
“Even if we did–”
“DeVoid, can I ask something of you?” the Cross-Prophet asked, ignoring its qualms.
“What?”
“Can I ask you to help a friend.”
“What? What the… Give me answers before you go asking me to help a friend of yours!”
“The friend is yours.”
“Who?”
“You already know who.”
Tor was able to detect the faintest pause, before DeVoid replied, “Tell me?”
“I’d like you to accompany me,” the Cross-Prophet elaborated.
“What?”
“If you accompany me, we can help your friend. It is necessary.”
“I need to go and help Apalu?”
“Yes.”
“And leave Tor? I don’t think so. How? You’ve just told us we need to–”
“You know how.”
“You want to copy me.”
“If you allow it, yes.”
“Apalu needs this?”
“Badly.”
“Why can’t you just help?”
“I am.”
“How?”
“By bringing you.”
“You’d better not be fooling around.”
The Cross-Prophet smiled.
“Fine, how–”
…
Before either of them could say anything else, the Cross-Prophet vanished.
*
[Thoughts?]
Tor spun around to look for DeVoid.
[Nope, back here for now.]
“I don’t know… that was too much. It… I mean, he–”
[Trust him?]
