First Contact

Chapter 296.5

Chapter 296.5

The park was full of the laughter and squeals of playing children. Podlings playing with hatchlings playing with nestlings playing with Terran children. The slide had an orderly line watched over by two broodcarriers who were talking softly to the children and one another. The swings were full, some of them with children old enough to swing themselves, the other swings, the bucket swings, being gently pushed by adults of all races. The jungle gym was full of playing children, all of whom were laughing and squealing. A few dozen children were involved in different games with soft balls that involved a lot of running, kicking, throwing, and physical effort.

Brentili'ik sat on the bench, ignoring the fact that she had two large Terran warborgs behind her, watching her broodcarriers and podlings run around and have fun on the sunny day.

She couldn't even see the scars from the two back to back wars her people and the Terran military forces had fought to secure her world for those very children that were playing happily in the warm sunshine.

Brentili'ik's husband, Vuxten, had fought right in this spot, standing on top of a destroyed tank, rallying the Telkan Marines when the massive Dwellerspawn creatures had lunged out of the now vanished jungle.

She still had a hard time believing that it had all taken place. That the elves, like the one sitting in the shade of a tree reading an ornate heavy tome's contents to wide eyed children who hung on every word of the story, had fixed the air, earth, and water.

"Penny for your thoughts," the human next to her, Colonel Harvey, asked softly.

"Just marvelling at the fact it's less than two years and you can't even tell the fighting happened right here," Brentili'ik admitted.

"Ah," the human said. He lifted up a cold drink and sipped at it through the straw. "I suspected as much."

"Am I really so predictable?" Brentili'ik asked.

The human shook his head slightly, still sipping at his drink. He swallowed and set the drink down on the ground. "This is not the first planet I have been to that needed an Elven Court to repair."

Brentili'ik sighed. "The universe is cruel."

Colonel Harvey nodded. "And will laugh as it takes from you everything that you love."

"Are you worried about the last messages we got from the Confederacy?" Brentili'ik asked.

Colonel Harvey shook his head. "Better races than the Lanaktallan have tried to take out Sol."

"Like the Dwellerspawn tried with us?" Brentili'ik said.

Colonel Harvey nodded. "It's ancient history, but the Elven Court's origins lie in an attack much like the Dwellerspawn upon Terra itself, before we had more than a handful of colonies."

"Really?" Brentili'ik turned to look at him better. "Tell me."

Colonel Harvey took another sip off his drink and set it down. "It was before the diaspora. Nobody is sure how long ago, but a eco-terrorist group attacked the entire planet with a genophage that turned all of nature against us. Plants, animals, all of it immediately went straight at humanity and our works. Within a year the Extinction Agenda Attack had claimed over eighty percent of humanity and over seventy percent of the habitable land was uninhabitable."

Brentili'ik looked at the shrubs around the play area and shuddered. "How did you beat it?"

Colonel Harvey laughed, a bitter sound. "After almost two hundred years the Mantid attacked Terra and glassed the place. That solved that problem."

Brentili'ik merely stared for a moment, her mind boggling at the way Colonel Harvey was grinning, like he'd just heard an amazing joke. Then he made a 'snerk' sound, then began to laugh. The two warborgs made grinding noises of amusement.

"What is so funny? Billions of your people were killed in the attack," Brentili'ik said.

"Yeah, but it did for those plants," Colonel Harvey laughed. He wiped his eye. "When it was over, we took the research and advancements we'd made to take on the Extinction Agenda Attack life forms and applied them in a new direction to undo the Glassing and the remnants of the Wildlife."

Brentili'ik shook her head. "You humans are weird."

Colonel Harvey nodded. "Yeah, we are."

Brentili'ik saw a podling fall down, skinning their knee. The broodcarriers rushed over and comforted it as it wailed and held its knee. A Terran child knelt down and hugged the podling carefully, patting the podling's head in sympathy. Once the broodcarriers had comforted the podling it toddled off, holding the human toddler's hand.

"What do you think will happen in TerraSol?" Brentili'ik asked, watching her own podlings slide down the slide.

"The Lanaktallan will be hammered until they surrender or are completely destroyed. It's called 'Fortress Sol" and 'Fortress Terra' by the other races for a reason," Colonel Harvey said. "It's the sixth time someone has tried to invade, and that doesn't count the four inter-dimensional invasions of Terra itself."

"I thought other dimension were inhospitable to life," Brentili'ik said.

"Didn't stop them from invading," Colonel Harvey shrugged. "The Emp-Wraiths were the worst. That was a sixteen year war. They had us on the edge twice, but we pushed back."

Brentili'ik shook her head. "The way you say that: had us on the edge."

"What about it?" Colonel Harvey asked.

"Like's it nothing. I've lived through being pushed to the edge twice now. It is not something I would refer to so lightly," Brentili'ik said. She sighed. "I would like some context. Define: had us on the edge."

Colonel Harvey shrugged. "Well, if we just go with Terra itself, the worst we had was the Xang-Yi Event. The impact itself left barely a hundred million human beings total, no infrastructure, an ice age on top of it, disease, famine, and when it was all over, there was less than a hundred thousand humans left. We bounced back from that pretty quickly, mainly because of the wider Terran Descent Humanity's help. The Bronze Age Collapse was another, probably set us back a few thousand years and about a third of humanity died. World War Three was nasty as hell, cost us about 8% of our habitable land and a quarter of the population."

Brentili'ik just stared. She had to turn off her implant because it kept trying to offer her data.

"History is just one mass grave on top of another," Colonel Harvey shrugged. He nodded at the pullup bars. "Ooh, that's going to scare the broodcarriers."

Brentili'ik looked over to see a female human child, no more than nine, hanging upside down, her knees folded over the bar that she held tightly to. She was rocking back and forth slightly.

Brentili'ik gasped in horror as the human child suddenly straightened her legs, somersaulting in midair to land on her feet.

"Cherry drop," Colonel Harvey said softly when Brentili'ik looked over. "She's displaying her physical prowess to dominate the other girls."

Brentili'ik looked more closely at the bars. There was a whole cluster of human girl children around the bars. As she watched the one who had flung herself off moved over and agilely climbed up to sit on the bar, her chin raised slightly as she played with a braid of her golden hair.

As she watched the six other girls, three on each side, all attempted the same maneuver.

One failed, landing flat on her stomach with an involuntary cry of pain driven out of her by the impact.

The other human girls watched with bright eyes, leaning toward her slightly, their eyes glittering in the sunlight as their expressions turned eager, almost hungry, with the exception of the one who sat on the middle and highest bar who had done the trick first. That girl watched with a haughty expression of indifference.

Brentili'ik was reminded of 'Net videos of carnivore animals watching their own groupings for any sign of weakness.

The girl got up and Brentili'ik swallowed thickly as she saw that the girl's tights were torn, revealing bloody scraped knees, one palm was scraped and oozing blood, she had scraped her chin, and blood was seeping out of her mouth from a bit tongue. She turned around and straightened up, lifting her chin defiantly. Another girl had reached up and grabbed the bar the injured one had jumped from but the injured girl shouldered her out of the way and climbed up.

Brentili'ik noticed all the young girl's expressions turned to approval as they resumed their conversations as if the injured one had not fallen. Brentili'ik noted that all she did was wipe the blood from her chin, she made no other attempt to clean the blood from herself or tend to her injuries.

"Why?" Brentili'ik asked. "Why let them do that?"

Colonel Harvey sighed. "It's our nature. We tried to deny it. There's some very dark chapters of our history where we tried to change it through drugs, genetic alteration, social and cultural conditioning," he shook his head. "Dark times indeed. We're a competitive species, we had to be, we still have to be."

"If the Lanaktallan defeat you, they will attempt to gentle you, prevent what those younglings are doing," Brentili'ik said.

"That never ends well. There's something about us, nobody's sure what, just something off," Colonel Harvey admitted, shrugging.

The blonde girl with the braids, sitting on the highest bar, lifted up her arm and checked the device on her wrist. Brentili'ik knew it was her personal gravity monitor. Most Terrans had a device to ensure they were at one 'Standard Earth Gravity' at all times, not the gravity of Telkan, which was only 80% that of Earth. As Brentili'ik watched she grabbed the bar with both hands.

The blonde girl suddenly fell over backwards, swinging down, then releasing, somersaulting twice before landing on her feet. She turned around and faced the others, lifting her chin slightly before walking back and climbing back up onto her perch.

Brentili'ik exhaled sharply. The whole thing had made her anxiety spike.

The others suddenly repeated the action of their leader. One missed her landing, slamming onto the ground on her back in a puff of dirt and dust. She laid there gasping as the others walked back and climbed up onto their perches.

"Get up. Do not be weak," the blonde one said loud enough for Brentili'ik to hear.

The one laying on the ground struggled to her feet, beginning to sob. She was crying as she hugged herself.

All of the ones on the bars tittered as the leader just stared silently, lifting her chin imperiously, her eyes moving from cornflower blue to cold amber.

The one that had fallen glared at the others, her eyes suddenly turning bright red, and lightning began to cascade down her arms, down her legs, snarling around her fists and feet. Broodcarriers exclaimed in alarm and whisked away the littles from around her.

The leader, up on her high perch, held out one hand, tiny arcs of electricity moving up and down between her fingers, her braids lifting up slightly from electrostatic charges as her eyes began to glow a dim cool red. The others leaned forward, their eyes glittering in the bright sunlight as their eyes began to glow amber.

"Do not be weak," the leader said and closed her hand.

The lightning on the one still on the ground suddenly snuffed out and the girl hitched a deep breath, her eyes cooling to amber.

"What happened?" Brentili'ik asked. She'd noticed the lightning, the static, the changes in Terran's eyes, and other odd occurrences around Terrans.

The girl was standing in line now as another climbed up. She was fourth in line and stood there with her head hanging down for a moment. Another girl touched her arm and they began talking.

"She couldn't control herself," Colonel Harvey said. "So they did it for her," he shook his head. "Before this, it was all subconscious, there wasn't any outward effect. Now, something changed."

"Case Omaha," Brentili'ik guessed.

"Maybe? I don't know. The eye thing is new," Harvey said.

Brentili'ik looked at him in surprise. "New? It's been as long as I've known you Terrans, almost two years. All of your eyes change color depending on your mood."

Harvey frowned. "Really? Not just the cyber-eyes?"

Brentili'ik shook her head. "No. All Terran eyes."

"Huh," Harvey said, filing the information away.

The girl that had landed on her back was laughing with the others, the insult and injury forgotten or no longer mattering.

"What will you do if the Lanaktallan achieve victory in their attacks?" Brentili'ik asked. She had been briefed on "The Bag Scenario" by Terran Confederate Military Intelligence as someone 'In the Need to Know' about the security measure.

"It won't help them. Those forces are gone. Either they are defeated in the bag, or they're just gone now," Colonel Harvey said.

"So what will you do?" she asked. "What does this mean for your people?"

"We'll keep fighting," he said. He nodded to where the girl who had landed on her back was now taking her turn climbing up.

Brentili'ik had figured out the rules. You imitated whatever the one on the highest bar did or you got down. If you landed badly you either got to your feet and climbed back on or went to the back of the line. She wasn't too thrilled with the public humiliation of being forced to go to the back of the line, that the girls who had completed the maneuver would sneer at the other for weakness when they failed, but she noticed that very few of the girls had red eyes.

The leaders burned a cool amber as she surveyed her domain.

"She wouldn't quit. Before she was on top she undoubtably fell again and again until she got it right," Harvey said. His voice got soft and quiet. "If we're gone, if the Lanaktallan have managed to begin the eradication of humanity, we'll drag them to Hell in our jaws with us so they can never do it to anyone else."

Brentili'ik didn't know what to say.

She just sat and watched the littles play.

------------------------

Herod shook the thick piece of woven fiber that was tufted on one end. The little ball of fur, a feline that had been extinct for over eight thousand years, batted at the tuft with all four feet, scrabbling at it. The little bar of fluff made squeaky growls as it did furious battle with the tufted end.

"It is pleasing to watch," Torturer said from where he was sitting in a chair. "It pleases me to see it happy."

"You? Happy?" Vanishing Point said, raising their eyebrows. "You?"

"It is a strange experience," Torturer admitted, shrugging. "Just the mere act of observing the creature, the kitty, is pleasing."

"Why isn't Sam-UL caring for them?" Vanishing Point asked, looking around. Flowerpatch was playing with the goodboi, who had one end of a cord in his mouth while Flowerpatch tugged it.

"He left the Do Not Disturb icon on his message service and his doors," Flowerpatch said without looking up, pulling on the cord and pulling the goodboi toward her. It was wagging its little tail even as it gave a tiny growl.

Herod handed the piece of woven fiber to Vanishing Point. "Here, just dangle it. The kitty will play with it."

"Where are you going?" Vanishing Point asked, taking the cord and emulating Herod's movements.

"To check on Sam-UL. He has been quiet for very long and is not answering communications requests," Herod said. He pinged Sam-UL again, but got no reply.

"I do not trust him without Legion around. He is a criminal," Vanishing Point said.

Herod shrugged. "It is not our concern. Legion is the project coordinator, he makes the decisions."

"But he is not here," Vanishing Point protested, keeping open a communications thread to keep talking to Herod as Herod left the room and physically began to walk down the hallway.

"Yet his orders remain and the Confederate Intelligence Agents keep watch," Herod said. "Mind your job and your entertainment, let other departments carry out their work."

Herod's com program clinked and Sam-UL's icon appeared next to the request for a secure communications link.

"I'll talk to you later, Point," Herod said, switching links. He raised one eye at the level of encryption that Sam-UL was using inside a Black Box. "Herod here."

"You're our particle expert, right?" Sam-UL asked. His voice sounded strained.

"Yes," Herod answered.

"I need you to bring a strange-matter Class XIV nano-forge, three Class XII graviton power generators, and two Class XI zero-point difference reactors to my main work space," Sam-UL said. "Here's the passkey to get in. It'll only work for you and only for the next hour. Wear your physical interaction frame, don't come in a nanite field or as a hard light hologram."

"OK, but what's this ab..." Herod started, but Sam-UL had already cut the link.

Frowning, Herod went and retrieved the items. He loaded himself into a physical frame, which looked more like an evil chrome robot than anything else, then gathered up the items into a small satchel. The nano-forge was barely larger than a softball and the reactors were the size of limes. He carried them to the door to Sam-UL's lab and touched the door.

The door checked the encryption key three times, pinged Sam-UL twice, and then, almost resentfully, opened.

Beyond was computer equipment liberally strewn everywhere. There were live power cables on the floor, on the walls, on the ceiling, sometimes in loops, with step up or step down transformers all over the place. There was high level EM shielding coating the walls, the ceiling, the floor, even in strips down from the ceiling. Sam-UL was kneeling on the floor, arranging a piece of equipment with a laser pointer. Next to him were two armored vacuum suits with strange additions. One of the Confederate Agents stood near him, perfectly calm, her feet shoulder width apart, her hands one over the other at waist level, her sunglasses hiding her eyes.

"I'm here," Herod said quietly.

"I'll need you to come with me," Sam-UL said. "Close the door, shut down your comlink subroutines."

"All right," Herod said slowly, looking around. There were lines drawn on the floor. A set of computers on a desk had a circle around them. The crude quantum computer had a circle around it and heavy EM shielding around it. "Are we going somewhere?"

Sam-UL looked up and Herod almost stepped back from the burning madness in the other Digital Sentience's eyes.

"Yes," the young DS said. He made a connection and the frame began to hum. "I need certain strange matter particles, in a certain configuration, to synch this to, and then we will be going," Sam-UL pointed at a cleared patch on the floor with a circle around it and heavy EM shielding. The two modified armored vac-suits were in the circle, connected to a pair of crude dataslates. "Get the stuff out right there. We'll be using the reactors ourselves, we'll be wearing the suits once you coat them to my specifications."

"Where?" Herod asked, moving over and unzipping the bag.

"Afterbirth," Sam-UL said, as if that explained it all.

"What? That's disgusting," Herod said, imagining placenta lining.

"Define Afterbirth," Sam-UL said to mid-air.

A hologram of a human appeared. His skin was brown, his hair brown, his eyes were flashing fire. He was wearing archaic armor that was battered, rent, and bloody. In one hand he held a set of scales, in the other he held a book. The human male hologram was stern looking.

Herod saw his name, his creche number, and his hash algorithm on the cover of the book.

"Afterbirth is the colloquial name given to the Sentience Upload/Download System Maintenance Facility," the figure said.

"Herod, Michael, Michael, Herod. He'll be coming with me. Please log him as a Strange Matter and Particle Technician Class I," Sam-UL said, not looking up.

"I see you, Herod," the hologram said.

Herod, to his credit, managed to hold his hash.