by Lee Bond
Aleksander would have to admit the Mycogene Empire would be perfect. Even more so than the Fleckers and Quarrymen, though not nearly as impressive as what was up after them. Orion cut loose with a little wry smile.
Oh, if only they understood just what was waiting for them!
“And what’s got you all contemplative?” Orion demanded. Wouldn’t be long now, before the Mycogene Emperor got off his high horse or dusty … chair-sitting-thing and opened the lines of communication.
Best to get all the rough stuff out of the way before then. Couldn’t afford to have any blatant dissent or outright refusal from the judges!
“It’s just this.” Aleksander rubbed the part of his face where he’d been slapped gingerly. He hadn’t quite decided –or even figured out how- he was going to ‘get Orion back’ for the slight, but it was damned well going to happen one way or the other.
“Do tell! We’re all ears.” Orion allowed his ears to grow ever-so-slightly larger, then looked over his shoulder at Huey, who was doing what people who were completely out of their depth did the very moment they realized they were in trouble:
Stand there, doing nothing, blinking slowly. If only the poseur would agree to make some kind of … fish lip breathing face, the image of a half-wit surrounded by intellectual giants would be complete. So much so, in fact, that you simply couldn’t but hope that Aleksander Politoyov would throw his hands up in the air and instantly declare sensible, intelligent, calm Artificial Intelligences by the name of Orion titular winner of the first Great Who Wants to be God Challenge.
So much easier that way.
Aleksander struggled with the words, then just gave in. “Well, I know for a fact that Mycogenes are atmosphere breathers. In point of fact, based on what I observed of Tendreel Salingh, they actually require a slightly higher oxygen index than standard Human offshoots. If we’re to assume, then, that Eyeball the Greater, there, is from the same stock as the Mycos …”
Huey straight up lurched into motion at this point, smacking himself in the head and calling all of his ‘minds a load of binary asshats who wouldn’t know how to solve a Rubik’s Cube comprised solely of white blocks. “This … you … this …”
“I suppose it’s too much to hope that you’re experiencing a logic fault at last?” Orion watched on as Huey smacked himself in the head a few more times over the grim realization.
Huey strode purposefully up to Orion and Aleksander, then pointed very firmly at the very interested eyeball. “That isn’t space out there, is it?”
“Well, technically, yes, it is still space.” Orion showed Huey his palms when the AI bared his teeth in anger. “Just not the kind of space you were expecting to see.”
“There’s no void out there, is there?” Huey demanded. The mouth forming at the base of the Eye’s cornea was nearly done, and the streamers of organic matter wandering away from the huge orb were much thicker now, almost as broad around as a God soldier’s brawny forearms. “It’s all atmosphere.”
“Well, no, not entirely.” Orion snorted, casting Aleks a conspiratorial wink. “Could you imagine? An entire solar system? Full of breathable air? That’d be … ridiculous. Not to mention I’m nearly certain Trinity wouldn’t allow that.”
“Nearly certain.” Huey demanded drolly. Then, with added levels of hysteria, just in case no one was getting how badly off he imagined they were. “Nearly certain?”
And that was when the Eye spoke.
***
“Why have you come?”
Huey went to stand beside Aleksander, leaving Orion to his own devices. He was in no mood to mess around with an Empire that’d gotten really fucking close to turning everything and everyone into a gigantic mushroom farm, especially because of who he was; if there was ever anything or anyone in the entire Unreal Universe that’d give the Mycogenes the kind of leg up they needed when it came to controlling technology alien to them, it was him.
Or, more specifically, the Hamilton Barnes meatsuit.
The thought of the Empire getting hold of his precious body and modified sphere was the stuff of nightmare and horror. Once … if … his cloned body was pulled to pieces and the secrets understood, there’d be next to nothing out there that’d prevent a wilful and concerted attack from a Mycogene Warrior. And with black hole engines making the Universe smaller than it’d ever been, rotting plagueships stuffed full of dominator viruses could be at every corner of the goddamn place before lunchtime.
That was the kind of Apocalypse Scenario that one Mister Garth Nickels had never sat down and considered because why in the fuck would he?
The Eye spoke again when it became apparent that no one was going to talk; Aleks was more interested in checking his pockets to see if he might not have left a flosser in there on accident, Huey was running checks on his ‘minds to see if they couldn’t figure a way out of the situation now that Orion was preoccupied, and Orion himself was …
Stunned. Not completely, not entirely, just enough to throw unkind spotlights on this particular venture.
“Why have you come?”
And that was when the first of the bangs groaned and moaned through the humungous installation.
***
“Well,” Huey quipped humorously, “that can’t be good.”
***
“That’s where I was headed.” Aleksander admitted while Orion busied himself running a few diagnostics. “With the ‘space is atmosphere’ situation. Seems to me we’re in a bad situation here.”
“Nonsense.” Orion completed running the diagnostics and plastered a look of perfect calm and purest repose on his faux-face. Things weren’t great, but neither were they out of control. They had caught the attention of the Myco Empire, yes, and it seemed as though there was something going on elsewhere in the system that hinted at activities that positively screamed ‘war-footing’, things that suggested the ruler of the Mycos had been up to no good for much longer than they’d been present in the solar system, but he was a MegaTunnel. “We’re perfectly fine.”
The flat look on Aleksander’s face hinted that the Offworlder not only didn’t believe the lies spilling from their host’s mouth, but that he also probably had a pretty good idea how up the creek without paddles they were.
Which added another layer of infuriating admiration onto the many-layered cake of appreciation Orion had for the humanoid bastard.
Huey felt it was time to add his two cents. He didn’t even need his ‘minds to flit around picking up corroborating evidence. “That banging sound was very … decentralized, Orion. Sort of came from all over the place, as far as I can tell. You ask me, sounds like we’re surrounded by angry mushroom stuff. You … you prorated for this kind of thing?”
Out in space, just past the border generated by Orion’s powerful intellect, a shield capable of keeping nearly everything out, the Eye with Mouth combination grew a little bigger and, with quite an obvious amount of growing frustration, spoke.
This time, there was no room for misinterpretation.
“Answer me or die. Why are you here?”
***
“I think they mean business.” Aleksander thought he could make shapes out just beyond the perimeter, large, bulky shapes that suggested they were going to learn soon enough just how powerful Trinity’s non-gravnetic-based shielding really and truly was. The Specter commander mentioned this, adding –because who couldn’t resist twisting the knife every now and then-, one final thought, “I mean, I’m certain that we’ll be fine. Trinity Itself kept the Universe in check for thirty thousand years with nothing else under It’s control.”
“Shut up shut up shut up!” Orion howled the command, perversely enjoying the sight of his two captives being driven to their knees from the shrieking orders. He didn’t even feel bad. Huey was an asshole who he should just kill outright but couldn’t because as much as Huey deserved to be murdered right there on the spot, you just didn’t do something like that when the Engineer was involved. “Let me think.”
>
As regrettable as it was, Huey T. Roboticus was an envoy for The Engineer, which was why … which was why there was the charade. So they were going to continue onwards, both sides knowing precisely what was happening and why, and that was that.
The Old Man was rapidly and swiftly becoming someone Orion didn’t think he liked very much. Respect might still be on the table, but liking the man?
Anyone who seemed to be having as much fun as the dusty orange Offworlder was was perhaps not the right choice. Still. It wasn’t like he could travel backwards in time and prevent himself from making stupid mistakes like coming to the Myco Solar System, or from choosing assholes who couldn’t stay nonpartisan if their lives depended on it.
Orion realized with a start that it was time to put a spin on things. This, right here and now, this was the kind of thing that the Engineer went through all the time! If he, the AI who was destined to become the God for Reality 2.0, couldn’t handle an irate Mushroom Kingdom and a smattering of lesser beings, then … Orion reckoned he didn’t deserve to be in line for the throne at all!
He could do this.
“All right.” Orion cleared his throat and fixed his attention on the Great Eye. “Listen here, Mycogene Empire, back the … back up away from this vessel and give us some breathing room or you’ll … back up.”
***
“Admirable self-control.” Huey whispered from one corner of his mouth.
“Definitely.” Aleks nodded in agreement. “Our host might not be as insane as we imagined.”
“Oh no, he’s twice as crazy as we believe.” Huey accepted the deluge of information streaming from his ‘minds and groaned inwardly. There was about three billion tons of non-descript organic matter floating just the other side of standard visibility and with how distraught Orion was over how things were shaping up for Round Two of ‘Hey, No One Believes Orion Isn’t Out to Kill Me, Right?’, it was pretty unlikely that their captor had any idea the stuff was there. “It’s just that self-preservation is really high in AI beings. Exposure to Nickels has driven him bonkers, but it hasn’t entirely ironed out Orion’s will to live.”
Aleksander pulled on his wispy chin whiskers while Orion waited for the Myco Rep to open his … it’s … while he waited for the giant talking eyeball to open it’s yapper once more. “I detected hints and ripples here and there that some people endured … hmm … adverse reactions to being in Garth’s presence, but … nothing concrete. Certainly, no one on Nova suffered any odd … reactions.”
“Where did they dig you up?” Huey demanded, fascinated. In a Universe where things like Garth Nickels and Chadsik al-Taryin and who knew what else rolled around doing the most unthinkable things, someone like Aleksander Politoyov was, not to put too fine a point on it, a Godsend. “Anyways. I can neither confirm nor deny the existence of anything that might have been doing anything weird to people in Nickels’ orbit, but I can say with relative assurance that if anything like that did exist, and nothing awk happened at Camp Kill Everyone and Steal Their Shit, I would say that you are good and goddamn lucky.”
Aleksander laughed outright at Huey’s assessment of Nova and was about to comment when the AI nudged him in the ribs.
“Our other host is about to speak. This is, well, I hate to say it, but this is exciting. The Mycogene Empire. I wonder if Orion knows what the deal is here?”
“What’s the deal?” Aleksander wondered aloud, looking quizzically at Huey. “What’s …”
“Hush!” Huey elbowed Aleks a second time.
***
“You are in no position to make demands, invader.”
Orion didn’t like that term, not one bit. “Now, hold on … what do I refer to you as?”
“We are the Mycogene Empire.”
Orion shut his eyes for a brief second. “Yes, I know that, but you, specifically, who are you? What’s your name? Mine’s Orion.”
***
“Is he actually speaking standard NorthAMC, only really slowly? What’s that going to do?” Aleksander shook his head, then caught himself looking for escape routes. The old man snorted. He wasn’t going anywhere, unless it was over the lip of the plateau they were on, at which point, all he’d be doing was hastening the inevitable.
“Probably thinks it’ll help the … Eyeball understand him.” Huey made a noise with his mouth. This was all uncharted waters, far as he was concerned. Hell, even most of his ‘minds had gone on to other things; roughly half were playing Parcheesi while the others were gathering around the old virtual television to watch the Huey Smash Cut Version of Star Wars.
“He … he is aware he’s talking to a civilization capable of giving most of their solar system a breathable atmosphere, right?” The Specter commander didn’t think he’d ever come across someone so completely misunderstanding a situation before now, unless you decided to include the time Tynedale/Fujihara erroneously believed they’d possessed enough mojo to handle one displaced caveman. “And … and that they have enough power to make a giant eyeball?”
“Oh yeah, no, we’re in all kinds of trouble, here.” Huey pointed all around their heads. “We’re surrounded by organic matter. Billions of tons of mushroom stuff.”
Orion took that moment to intrude; the Eye was apparently mulling over how to deal with the embarrassment of mishandling things. “I’m aware of the … gunk, Huey! It’s just … stuff. The day a few billion tons of floating shitake gives me pause for concern is the day I admit you are the best AI for the job!”
Huey held up an apologetic hand. “Sorry, Orion. I was unaware you had this handled.” Beside him, the AI felt Aleks’ wry amusement and did his best to hide the smirk.
Orion nodded once, very firmly. “Good. Just so you know, I know everything. And what I don’t know isn’t worth knowing.”
“Totes.” Huey pointed at Eye. “Oh, look, it’s getting …”
***
“You are an insolent being.”
Orion didn’t know how to take that, so he just left it alone. Still and all, the tone wasn’t something that sounded particular AI-friendly, so the intellect took a moment out to make certain that … all lines of communication, so to speak, were functional; the four or five billion tons of organic matter floating out there in the … air … didn’t possess enough oomph to punch through his quantumly-generated shields, but there was every chance that they could diffract or otherwise bung everything else …
No. Good. If he needed, he could generate a Tunnel from somewhere else and burn this talking Eye and the assorted chunks of mushroom into so much cinder.
“Surely,” Orion stepped forward in an open gesture of … communication, “surely we can avoid all this posturing and gesturing? I’ve come here for a purpose, er,” the AI realized he’d been given no names by which to refer to their chatty ocular guest, “er, Empire. I brought two entities with me, and if we could just … just have a few moments of your time, I assure you, it will be worth your while.”
***
The Eye turned this way and that, massive pupil dilating as it squinted. The intelligence driving the Eye’s larger functions immediately recognized the lifesigns of the two organic beings down on the platform at the very center of the tremendous Tunnel that’d arrived inside the great and mighty Mycogene Empire without invitation and something very similar to pure shock rippled throughout the entirety of the Empire.
The first thing to catch the Empire’s Eye was the stocky, burly being lurking behind the other one; it didn’t take long for the nearly limitless intelligence of the Mycogene Empire to identify that one as being Aleksander Politoyov, leader of the Specters and a man who, until very recently, was presumed to’ve been dead, destroyed on the Vorpal Cannon, alongside the numinous entity that’d been Tendreel Salingh.
A frisson of inexplicable emotion burned through the Mushroom Intellect the moment the full and total implications of this impossible survival was understood.
Aleksander Politoyov, alive!
Alive, when all po
ints in the Tapestry that was connected to the Unreal Universe had shown him dead, excised out of future history as cleanly as if someone had taken a pair of shears and snipped the threads from the weave.
This was, in the parlance of infinitely lesser beings, too good to be true!
The man … the devil … responsible for training Garth N’Chalez, for giving him free reign to roam across the rotten skin of an ill Universe, here, in their domain!
If it were at all possible for the Mushroom Intellect to believe in things like destiny, karma, or even something less impossible, it would at that very moment begin reordering all it’s efforts towards some new, better goal. For surely, if there was something like an Entity out there in the wilds of the Unreality shaping, sculpting, ordering the Tapestry into a definable shape that made sense, Aleksander’s presence here, in the Mycogene-Alzant system, would be perfect, unsullied, proof.
Except there were no such things as Gods or Entities of such power.
Not unless you included the Mycogene Empire into the mix.
“Give me the one they call Aleksander Politoyov and your trespasses shall be forgiven.”
***
It took a moment for the absolute gravity of what the Mycogene Rep was demanding to sink into Orion's main consciousness; too much of what he was was involved in making certain that they were, in fact, as safe from attack as he claimed. There were hints in the depths of the literal mountains of matter that there was more going on than met the figurative eye.
When he did realize, Orion snorted. "I need him. I went to great lengths to make certain he survived the ..." The Tunnel AI blanched the moment it dawned on him that there was every possibility that the Myco Rep might not necessarily be 'ok' with how Tendreel had passed, and further, that they might just be in a lot more trouble than advertised, "... situation outside Latelyspace."
