The clone slides smoothly into his role as Drake and asks, “How are we supposed to get to that space station, and I’m wondering how much radiation will be there since they have no fear of using those type of weapons judging by the zombies we faced earlier.”
Quanta pleasantly chirps, “I’ll get you through to master Myco” and does so.
“Listen Drake, I’m with you on that. If you want to break out any Personal Protective Equipment, now would be the time; I asked Gom and Zeteg and they said they will loan us masks. So far all the fields seem to be holding, but if there’s another attack they can’t guarantee they’ll have backups immediately online to take over.” Gom adds in “We’ve arranged a transport. Simply follow me.”
‘Drake’ climbs into a radiation suit, and equips a number of his inventions into a hidden compartment of the life support systems of the suit. With luck he might glean some new tech and samples, he walks the Antitheses to where the transport is located and waits patiently.
The transport if you could call it that wasn’t able to carry the 90 ton mechs their largest mechs being medium sized ones, meaning ‘Drake’ was forced to travel pedestrian style. He decided to leave the clones to guard his mech and enact a rescue if it was needed, he knew reinforcement clones would be arriving through the gate in less than an hour from the instructions Drake had sent with the ore samples. He walks into the transport and takes a seat, most uncomfortable but he doesn’t voice that. He does scan the nearby instruments for anything useful, with his concealed scanners. Never can be too careful.
The lift off was surprisingly smooth; would have to look at the engines and propulsion systems if he could get a chance. “Hey, you might want to slide on your translator… I’ll figure out a way to remove them later… possibly with acid, but for now they are rather useful.”
“Um it is on, were they saying something? I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Yes, discussing whether to dissect us or not. Hey, I’m kidding. Seriously though, you’ll probably get what’s going on better if you slide it to this frequency” I help the clone of Drake calibrate his translator implant so it is set the same way as mine.
“Ah that is better. Do you know old sign language? I studied it to help me interpret symbolism on old ruins and to possibly try to communicate with any alien life I ever encountered.”
“No, can’t say I do, but I think I figured out how these electric translator implants work. Each side’s receiver and transmitter is keyed to each other, so that they use a common language. It is then translated to the main language of the wearer’s brain… using some sort of Forerunner technique.” Gom’s lightmecha looks over at Drake “Those of us who have tentacles use a type of sign language. We are almost there.”
Well there goes that idea, “Myco what do you make of that station now that we’re getting ready to dock.” “It’s not like any that I’ve seen in ‘our space’ but the individual technologies are nothing too exotic... at least on the surface. So listen, buddy, when Drake Prime was raising you, which skills did he emphasize in your training?”
“Shh…” Drake places his finger to his lips, “hmmm did this translator thing malfunction it sounded like you said that there was more of me.” Drake says motioning to the aliens with his eyes. Drake makes a show of messing with the equipment. “Nevermind, I was just trying to make some small talk. You might as well ask our hosts where the repair bay is… it looks like we’re near docking.” It takes several of the strange light mechs working together to hoist up and carry the 80 and 90 ton Mecha of myco and Drake’s expedition party. They have deployed from the transport and station. Mad Moe and Fake Phil ask Drake if it is okay whether to destroy these antihumans or not...
“Old boy, is there any chance we can watch you repair those mechs we destroyed? Awfully sorry about that being attacked and all puts me on edge.” Drake received the clones messages then turn back to their “hosts”, he clears his throat, “Um you might want to stay away from my mech it’s automated defenses might start blasting your ships from the sky if they get any closer.”
Gom clears his version of a throat after signalling his underlings to not bother lifting the two Aspis and to rather concentrate on the wrecks instead before continuing “Well, the elder, Zeteg, he has to open the doors, we’ve got it voice activated, goes with a chant. Shouldn’t be more than a moment, yes, you’ll have full access to our facility.” Once all who are going in are in the station, Zeteg is rather curious about Drake and Myco. “I am to understand that you two and those helpers of yours all came from the opposite side of that Gate? You certainly don’t look like one of ours. Nor the ratman heretics.”
Drake pulls out his datapad, and pulls up the image of the being they had removed from the mechs that had exited the gate before their trip through, “Any info on these beings? I found them… interesting.” “Interesting… that doesn’t look like… Gom, check the records! I think those are techno-primitives from at least a few thousand years back.” He gesticulates wildly with the mechanical tentacle to his men while pounding the table with his organic hand. “I think, travelers, that you may have run into one of our people’s ancestors, who had been trapped out of time midjump.”
“Ah that explains that.” Drake gives Myco a look hoping that he remembered that these aliens didn’t share even a chromosome in common with the ones they faced, so they were lying. Drake tensed a bit shifting his hidden weapon closer, wonder what these guys agenda is?
“We believe in, do you have a term “Self-improvement?” You see, our founders, they met someone from your side, Kellek. We have Forerunners too. Or had. They advocated directing your own evolution, quite literally, as do I.” You can tell by the mismatched body parts of the mutants that several of them have engaged in body modification. “Back then was a time when our techniques were not as refined. Our race almost went extinct. Too much modification led to sterility and madness for all but a few.”
“Quite understandable, I’m all for improvement. Do you mind?” Drake points at a console on the wall nearby. Zeteg raises his stalked eye, apparently the Antihuman’s equivalent to an eyebrow gesture “What would you like to do with it? You can download the public files, certainly.”
Drake smiles his sly smile, “Excellent wont be but a moment.” He hooks up the hacking pad and within nanoseconds everything connected to the terminal was copied and stored within a hidden data cache the public files clearly visible Drake shows the antihumans, “Quick download speeds saves me time.” “That’s fine” says the techno-shaman. “Those things out there, savages. A devolved race. Our cities, they rummage through the trash. We, the Anti, are about forward progress. They however, move sideways!” He seems cross and decides he will retire to a meditation chamber shortly.
His assistant Gom returns with some keys for myco and Drake to enter their hangar if they would like to do repairs and confers with his superior Zeteg. He then turns to Myco and Drake after huddling with the cleric, once they have reached an agreement how to explain the next bit of history to the outsiders. “Uh, you see, we are all ‘Children of Kellek.’ However, that one you’d faced, he probably went mad from trying to extend his own telomeres, at least that chart you showed suggests so. There was a period where our ancestors were quite reckless, yes. Those of us who still are, were the ones who are more stable, genetically. They’d tried quarantining each other, fought a lot and a few just disappeared. Now we know where they went though!” He sighs.
I think Drake, there is probably more to this conflict between the Antihumans and the ratlings than our hosts are letting on to us. “Gom, you and Zeteg have repeatedly mentioned a Forerunner named Kellek. Is he important to your people’s history?” Gom seems deeply offended at first and has to gather himself before responding. “Yes, he is the core to our religious order, actually most civilized orders in space (he must mean this Universe, since in context it would not make sense for these people to have a term for another one).”
He looks at Myco and Drake a bit more closely, scrutinizing them with his cybernetic eye and doing scans with the antenna jutting from his temple.
Drake types in his pad that goes straight to Mycos by encrypted data-burst. If things go sideways Drake will show up in the Antithesis and lay waste to these guys. The AI is monitoring us and will wake him when needed. “Fascinating, just taking notes.” He smiles cheerily. Good. These guys seem friendly but freak me out a little to be honest. You see the female with the extra eyeball and that one with the extra legs?
I focus on the two myco pointed out, hmmm scanning us. Good thing my hidden cache of gear is shielded. Drake was right not to trust them. A ping on my datapad lets me know that their physiology was slowly degrading they would need new DNA to keep from dying out as a species.
The Antihumans seem interested in the fashion of Drake and Myco’s clothing since it varies so greatly from their own. They try not to stare but find that the two outsiders have greater body symmetry than they do to be kind of strange.
Gom has finished analyzing them. “You both have faint traces of some Forerunner technology on you. That was what we used to find you out there. Yes, Kellek was a warlord, both great and terrible. In the end the one enemy which he could not conquer was his own mortality. He left a body of scripture for our founders though, who built our uh, ‘system?’ of beliefs around it.”
“Do you happen to have any refreshments? I’m a little parched. Could use some good tea.” Gom apologizes “We do, I fear you will have to pick what is the most palatable to yourselves on your own though.” There is a cafeteria down the hall. The woman with the extra eye leads myco and Drake to some trays. Evidently there are three gooey colors of some sort of slop that is a type of stew or pudding that are served by pressing a button, what looks to be a land crustacean of some size that has been slow roasted, and some foul smelling carbonated beverage that apparently is an electric blue energy drink.
“I should scan these to make sure they’re not poisonous to us.” He begins scanning the food, and also the denizens of the cafeteria, “A bit of radiation and pollution from the atmosphere. How unfortunate guess we’ll have to rely on the rations I brought.” He pulls out some dehydrated food and powdered tea and some water. “Want any Myco?”
The woman indicates where they can serve themselves, says they should thank Kellek for the good fortune/bounty and excuses herself. Gom takes off some of the heavy clothing he was clad in while outside and sits opposite Drake and Myco. He briefly seems equally disgusted by Drake and Myco’s comestibles as they had been by the choice of food that the Antihumans subsist on but tries to mask emotionally expressing it. “I would be willing to er, guess you would like to see our Scripture? We don’t have any on the ship, but there is a museum in the capital city.”
“Oh you have a city? How long a flight to it? I assume it’s in that direction,” I point in the opposite direction as the gravity well. The star charts indicated that they avoided that area completely more than likely a threat to them in some manner. “Many and yes. It’s on that nearest planet. The brown one with the grayish clouds. There’s a Gate which we’d built this station around whose counterpart is on the surface.”
“I assume you have transport vehicles with niode matrixes to take passengers through? I’m sure my friend Myco would rather travel by mech so can he borrow a niode to integrate into his matrix?” Hopefully they’ll be foolish enough to give him one. It would attune his mech to every Gate that that niode had ever traveled through.
“Yes, our founders had that technology, we’ve since adapted it to our own use. However, we would like it if you helped repair our guardians first.”
“Certainly.” I step forward my sly smile plastered across my face. Time to gain some alien tech. “So these used to be living mechs correct?”
“Yes. Our oldest elders, they are organs. Some of the earlier generations who were rendered sterile, removed their bodies… and they figured out that technique to restore what would otherwise be a “dead” mecha. If you encounter one, please show it some respect.” Gom’s data-pad projects to them a robotic version of a Canoptic Jar.
An hour passes as they fix the Dead mechs, “Why do you use these weapons? They are quite damaging to your mechs.” Not to mention the Antihumans and environment too.
“We just always have and feel the reward is a bit greater than the risk” the word ‘kickback’ buzzes in Drake’s translator.
“Ah that explains it.” Drake types into his pad for Myco, My clone forces have passed through the gate. They’ve activated shielding to conceal their presence also aircraft was brought through as standard procedure for me so they can come if needed.” Alright, If these guys want to DNA harvest us, I’m game for a little planetcide assuming worst comes to worst…
Their Gate was made of the standard material. Too bad might have proven useful if it was also able to travel home.
I agree. Well, apparently these guys are only used to warping within their own space. We’ll have to use the gate we entered to get back unless there’s another one like it in the capital city.
“Well off we go. I can’t wait to see your capital.”
“Gom, you’ll show us the way to your people’s museum, right?” “Of course. This city has much commerce. The air isn’t very good though, so you may want to wear masks.”
Drake places his helmet back in place and activates the life support, “Can you still hear and understand me?”
I realize these aliens haven’t gotten our names yet. “I can Drake, we should probably tell our guide our names though. I’m Myco and he’s Drake.” “I see,” says Gom. “It’s a bustling area, so I would also advise some small weapons for personal defense; filthy ratmen may try to panhandle.” “Well what sort of money does your civilization use?” I ask Gom. “Batteries, and radioactive ore, mostly.” He thinks a moment “...As well as Niodes.” I’m starting to notice a theme I think here Drake. “I do hope Gom that all these notes we are taking do not offend you.” There is a strange gurgling noise. It takes a few moments to realize this is how Gom laughs. “No, not at all. I was assuming you were writing to each other, since our languages are different. The machines Zeteg and I gave you only work for spoken languages, not written ones.”
“Oh I did not know that.” Drake lies smoothly, “I just find your civilization so interesting. I need to keep a lot of notes. Quanta can you replay the last notes I wrote?” Hoping that the AI could convincingly lie as well.
“Certainly master Drake. These ‘people’ are very different from us but their level of technology seems about equal to ours in most respects.” Albeit with more of a brown footprint than a green one.
“The Ratmen have translators too but I would not trust them. They are… beneath us, best suited for garbage collecting and crude labor services, some do junk peddling.”
“Any of the junk useful?” casual question.
“Perhaps Drake, but I would be hesitant to interact with them. If you really would like to though, I can show you and Myco the merchant center… you can install a chip on your translator to understand the different merchants. Antis, we come in a great variety of shapes and do not all speak the same language… which is why the translator is so useful.”
“I can see that. But truthfully I was wondering what you knew of your enemies. Their diet and physiology. My scans noticed quite a difference in them and I was wondering how many you had managed to dissect.”
“Oh, well, there will be some information about them in the museum, but I can tell you that our founders, the NoRunners bred both us Antihumans and the Ratmen. Our empire, they are… it is tricky. We rely on ratlings for some forms of work and they in return get to live for the most part peacefully. Those ones attacking you before were a savage dissident group. I have the scalps of six as trophies.”
“I claimed a trophy myself.” Drake smiles
At the Norunner city :“Sir a large force of mechs have arrived through the gate. Your orders?”
“Send a burrower mech with high pheromone secretion to deal with them. They’ll fall into fighting each other then we can send a recovery team to salvage the remains.”
Drake and Myco travel towards the museum, Drake notices the ratmen slaving away on trash pick up. Drake scans their bio readings as they pass. hmmm interesting their DNA is degrading too but not as much. He compares the reading to the ones from the group they fought, small traces of radiation but no degradation at all, they have something protecting them. I wonder what.
Gom explains something by means of an introduction when they enter the main annex to the museum “Drake, Myco,... you may get some strange stares… I have assuaged that high levels of symmetry are the norm amongst your people but ours have an aesthetic favoring asymmetry. Perhaps you would be treated with less bias from one of our elders. In the antechamber at the end of this hall is one of our elder historians.”
This “historian” is the docent and caretaker of the Antihuman’s cultural museum. His body has been largely replaced by cybernetics: one leg is an obvious prosthetic, he has several small arms which all appear to be mechanical and instead of a proper face his brain is housed in a clear container, floating in some type of essential nutrient bath. Instead of eyes and ears he possesses electronic visual and auditory sensors. His mouth is natural and he has a beard which he gently tugs at with one of his limbs, slightly nervously. “I am Yithson. Apparently the rumors some outsiders had came through the gate were true… Gom accompanying you here verifies it.”
Gom nods then has to excuse himself for awhile; he has been called back by Zeteg and has some business to attend to on the Station. Something about renewed activity at the Negaverse Gate and a need to observe it.
Yithson glances at Myco and Drake, his camera eyes adjusting focus and electronic ears position towards the visitors with a tiny whir. “I will try to answer any questions you may have about our founders and the NoRunners which they worshipped.”
This historian is from a much earlier generation than Gom and Zeteg and though he did not personally know Kellek, apparently in his dimmest memories recalls having possibly seen a NoRunner once, he thinks. Yithson has spent several decades collecting different stories from various tribes and groups about their founders and the NoRunners and these are featured as one of the collections in the museum (the stories, not the actual tribes people… with the exception of a few carefully reassembled skeletal specimens held on display in the “unnatural history” section).
Drake took little interest in the museum this section seemed more like a library, a digital copy could be perused at Drake’s leisure at a later time. Myco picked up on this somewhat and decides to ask Yithson a question “Yithson, we couldn’t help but notice there appears to be a large social division between the ratpeople and you mutants… what’s the story there?”
The aged caretaker’s brainbucket lights up first red then green as he begins to formulate a response, then stops and thinks a little bit. There is a pause in Yithson’s lecture and some bubbles rise. He decides to scrap his original reply and instead goes at things from a different angle. “Oh, well if that interests you, we should go to the Unnatural History section.” His electronic eyes scan shifting first right, then left and back again. It becomes evident as he retrieves an access key from a lanyard around his neck that the area Yithson would like to take Drake and Myco to is a restricted section.
Yithson again checks to be sure that no one else is watching. Not even his assistants who tend the museum?
“You two are outsiders, it doesn’t matter so much if I tell you but for the dwellers in this city, they would rather pretend this isn’t so. The mutants which you refer to as Antihumans and those you call ratlings were at one point the same.”
Drake wanted to see if these people were totally ignorant to their eventual fate or were preparing to subdue and extract their DNA. “Interesting. Your genetic modifications made your DNA more susceptible to degradation than the ratmen, but even they are starting to degrade living in this environment, you did know that correct?”
Yithson’s brainbucket lights up and bubbles again some more in response. “Our chief scientists… have been aware of this for awhile, but for the time being there is not a whole lot we can do about it. You see, the majority of our core technologies came from the wreckage of a ship Kellek had sent out… so our way of offsetting the problem is through replacing as much living tissue with cybernetics and synthetics as we can.” He gestures with one of his many robotic appendages, calling up a floating screen with some captioned figures taking up the body of it and charts about projections predicting continued degradation off to the side.
“It isn’t fully correct to say these were all our modifications. As I’d said before, originally both we and the ratmen were the same. Our founders, the NoRunners made our ancestors this way for fun, for conquest and to appease their curiosity.” He makes a sweeping dismissive motion with another arm, switching off the screen. “What they did large scale to colonize our worlds we do on a much smaller, more individual level. To truly understand these things though you would have to understand the nature of the religions here.”
Yithson calls up another screen to illustrate his newest point. “Ours are mainly variations on technotheocratic singularitarianism and the like.” The images on the screen split down the middle and sort to show the Antihumans’ main transfiguration cults on one side and the beliefs of the ratmen on the other. “The ratlings, they have a more holistic relationship to their environment, despite it being a tainted and polluted one. We’d go so far as to suspect they were a second experiment by our founders, in an attempt to deal with problems generated by us, their first experiment.”
He concludes as follows: “Basically, we cannot reverse the original series of strong genetic changes our NoRunners did to us, so the next best thing we can do is to embrace further changes.”
Drake shakes his head, he was fairly certain that the biology of the ratmen made them more resistant but it had to be some sort of technology the barbarian ratmen possessed that kept them from degrading from the radiation and other pollutants in the environment. Maybe a shielded underground ship, city, bunker yes some sort of environmental bunker or… lab. Maybe he should contact the Antithesis’s AI with this information, let Drake investigate. Where was Patrick? no contact from him yet bothered Drake; unknown variables.
Myco fiddles with an artifact on one of the tables. Yithson scolds him: “Don’t touch that!” It was the remains to a cybernetic implant on a skull. Drake takes interest; he sidles closer to the artifact. remote scan and download if possible.
Yithson takes it from him, inspecting the fragile piece for damage. After seeing that there is no damage he calms down and sets it back on the table. “After a member of our kind dies, we check the logs of any computerized bits to see if the data will be useful later.” Several of the small mechanical limbs pry a chip from the housing of the implant. “This is the important part.” Despite admonishing Myco not to touch the skull, Yithson proceeds to manhandle several more components out of the cybernetic implant on it. One he seems to handle more delicately than the others though is a small orb with a matte finish that distinctly glows around the edges despite being opaque. “This is the most important part.” He holds it out for Drake to be able to look at if he chooses to. “A link to the NoRunners… sort of.”
Drake takes as close a look as he is allowed, his eyes dancing in excitement. This technology mirrored the ones found in his first lab. Meaning he could copy all data there without touching it. Drake types a message for Myco, You know I could reverse most of the degradation. I have their creators research mastered and improved.
Myco looks down at his wrist panel while trying to act discreetly about the whole thing and idly types out a response. You think so? Eh, maybe. I feel like their founder was something of a madman though.. and perhaps this society shares some of that ‘madness’? Probably keep it on the table as a possible bargaining chip.
Myco asks the keeper a question “I’d assume that it has great importance to your people?”
Yithson seems to light up about it… literally “Yes, this is the first piece to the implant, we embed them in newborns as part of a ceremony, before any other grafts or tech they may receive at later ages. If you were wondering where my translator is… I don’t have one. I’m from the generation where it was not small enough yet, so this entire museum houses one within part of its network.” Meaning the extent of Yithson’s power is limited to in and around the nearby grounds to the museum.
“So you’re literally married to the job”, Drake laughs.
“Yes. I have my assistants bring me relics they find from outside, then I classify them and help them to interpret things. When I was younger I used to travel but these days I prefer my collections here. That translator is ubiquitous though, even ratlings have them though they generally tend to eschew most other body modifications.” He takes another look at Drake and Myco. “From your stature and means of carrying yourselves, I’d say you two are men of study from your homeplace too? Reminds me of when I was younger and had less replacement parts.”
“Yes men of learning and exploration.” “Adventurers and inventors, right right.” One may notice amongst the other details of this area is what appears to be an antique rail cannon. Smaller than the type used on mecha but larger than the tiny hand type. It probably went on a vehicle. It isn’t armed but has been humorously aimed to face pointing out the window. If you were to look out this window you’d see the courtyard below where a young ratman is making a toy out of some components he’d salvaged from a dumpster while his parents are collecting garbage, and if you looked even closer you’d see that on breaks they take swigs from bright green containers they keep on their person at all times and that they drink only from these, not any of the sludgy water from the external environment.
“Myco, Drake, there is a side to this city which probably hasn’t been revealed to you yet. One fanatical cult hopes to revive the remains of the brain of one of our founders. The rest of us are content to emulate the NoRunners with our own interpretation but these zealots … I fear, would use, if they could, however you two got here as a means to do something drastic.” Yithson has notes in his private cloister within this section suggesting the negaverse and our universe could have some ties and that if the fanatic cult figures these out, they may end up immolating both universes. “I should hope neither of you were foolish enough to leave the gate you came through unguarded.”
“No, it’s pretty safe.” Drake sounds confident, before he moves farther into the museum. Drake looks idly about when he notices the bones of a living mech, he walks up and notices familiar scarring on the bones. He types into the data pad. Myco, I just came to the conclusion that our DNA wouldn’t be of any use to these people but a living mech’s… He glances to see Myco’s reaction before typing, You may want to make it back to the gate. And tell Drake to look for where the ratmen live, it’s either a shielded bunker, or lab of their creator… I’m certain of it. I’ll give you guys as much time as I can. Transferring my consciousness back to the Antithesis to be recorded as a new AI for Drake. Good work Alpha. My nickname for you, which I hope you approve of. As far as clones go, you were pretty alright. If that’s the course of action you feel is most advantageous, I will go with it 100%.
“Yithson, I thank you for being a hospitable host to Drake and I. Your concerns about the Gate are valid. We did not know at the time the identity of the looming threat but assumed there would be one, so yes, we do have some guards posted at its edge. If your assistants could direct us to the quickest way out of the city back to the space island, that would be helpful. That way we could best coordinate our forces with those of Gom and Zeteg.”
“I understand completely.” Yithson pushes a button on his desk which opens a large trapdoor in the empty part of the floor, revealing an express tunnel beneath the museum his archaeological and anthropologist Antihuman mutant teams use for ferrying finds to the museum and artifact recovery equipment from it out to excavation sites. “At the end of this tunnel lies a hangar on the edge of the city which has some ships you may use to get back there. I’d suggest moving quickly. The fanatics no doubt have by this time detected fluctuations from the energy signatures which were emitted when you first arrived and are likely planning their first moves.”
“I would like to stay and see if I can help your people deal with the degradation, no need to ruin perfectly fine DNA. Well have you tried to reactivate dormant genes from your ancestors? I know of a variety of methods and am sure I can help your people repair the damage, but you should also stop using all those radioactive rocks and polluting your air and water.” Drake sidles over to a terminal.
Yithson scratches his chin with one of his many mechanical arms… “We have, but most records existing before the time of Kellek were either lost or destroyed. That is to say, our people’s genomes when we do find databases of them, they tend to be in “batches” based on a particular mutant generation. The original form from before we were experimented on… it seems all record of that was lost. However,... working backwards, I suppose one could build a sort of a reverse engineered incomplete/partial map based on those…”
“Ah but genetics is my expertise. The base is in there and with the right equipment I can find and activate the genes to restore the subject to what I like to call baseline, of course the subject would suffer insurmountable amounts of pain as their DNA is rewritten back to baseline. Chances of survival of subject I would say 40% but the process would, one give you the correct genomes needed to enact the change in embryos and two…”
“Hmm, I can call over some of our own geneticists and they could confer with you, probably get the survival rate up about another 10%” Yithson speculates “My colleagues would also be happy to loan you their sequencing equipment what’s more, I’m sure.” He shakes his head and laughs dejectedly on the second issue, making it obvious he feels an outsider would not understand “The matter of the radiation is a bit of a tougher nut to crack. You see, I’m afraid there is just too much social and bureaucratic inertia; It provides cheap, strong power. Our nuclear scientists have been arguing back and forth about the merits of fission versus fusion for some decades now in the capital’s chamber of commerce. You could try setting an appointment with the fusion lobby but their opposition in the fission lobby is much larger.”
Drake’s voice fades as Myco exits the facility.
The tunnel is long and other than the motorized hum of an overhead fan from its ventilation system there isn’t much else in the way of noise. Every small object dropped or knocked into seems to clang inordinately but that could just be in the travelers heads due to the urgency of their mission.
The AI woke Drake due to a disturbance with the clones, the seemed to be bickering. Right away he noticed the pheromones in the atmosphere was through the roof. He flips the comms on and verbally triggers the obedience command. Can’t have disobedient clones, no siree. He was just about to go back to sleep when the AI informed him that a new AI was downloaded. He asked for a report and listened intently to what his clone and Myco had learned. Well since he’s gone guess I should run scans and wait for Myco to arrive.
Once he gets back to the temporary camp, Myco hails the Antithesis. “Oy, Drake, wake up! The other you is working with one of those people’s elders to see what all can be done about their genetic stability problem to improve the Antihumans’ health. He also said there would be…”
Myco’s three beast mecha are growling, staring at some object near the edge of the Gate approach.
I don’t remember that being there he thinks to himself. Some sort of a burrowing mecha perhaps?
“... some resistance.”
“I’m up ol boy, just running some scans, seems like we’re under a pheromone attack again. I’m aware of what my clone is doing there.”
“Wait, you mean Zeteg and Gom already told you?”
“No, my clone did. He downloaded himself an self terminated.”
“I think even if Yithson isn’t to be trusted, he seems at the very least to have been helpful so far…”
A message from Gom cuts across all channels of the auditory translator devices embedded in Myco and Drake: “It’s a holy war. Zeteg has called all our fighters to mobilize station defenses. The fanatics have made their move and were hiding amongst our own numbers; I’m afraid we can’t send any manned reinforcements until we’ve dealt with this little insurrection. Drop ship will have sent the handful of guardians you and our mechanics have gotten back online we can spare… we think they mean to take over the station. Want to starve transport of supplies!”
The message cuts out.
Submitted by Mycobacter&Drake Novum Scientist #712744,706289