《Dark Patterns》 Whereof 1. CHAPTER 1: WHEREOF ¡°I would love to paint you,¡± Fhosanti said to Siraa. When she smiled, Siraa couldn¡¯t look away. It hadn¡¯t been long after the shuttle departed that Fhosanti changed seats and sat next to Siraa. They were the only two aboard, and Fhosanti was clearly looking to chat. Siraa, on the final leg of a long journey home, was happy enough for the company. They spoke about nothing for hours, and - somehow - the flight was nearly over. ¡°Have you been aboard the Teop before?¡± Fhosanti asked. ¡°Actually, I was born here,¡± Siraa answered quietly but with a small smile of her own. ¡°I¡¯ve been away quite a while.¡± ¡°I can see that!¡± Fhosanti laughed, though it was good-natured, alluding to Siraa¡¯s darkly armoured and bio-augmented form. It cut a stark contrast to Fhosanti¡¯s own basic human-type, with shimmering silver hair and brown skin. They sat next to a wide window. The vacuum outside the shuttle stretched out towards infinity. They were passing over and through the many separate levels that constituted the outermost shell of the Teop. A sprawling lattice of structures stretched across the vista, interlocked and woven together from almost every direction, construction made only possible in the weightlessness of zero-g space. Lights from their active regions illuminated the gulfs between each vast platform. Free-flying drones and small transport craft busied the industrialised volume. ¡°Are you back because of that whole thing?¡± Fhosanti asked, making a vague gesture with a circling finger. Though Fhosanti¡¯s face remained bright, Siraa could see it belied the worry that everyone felt, a dark threat that few ever articulated but always came up in conversation. ¡°I am.¡± Fhosanti decided to change the subject. She leaned close, pointing past Siraa and out of the window. When Siraa looked, she saw one of the great habitation spires below, swarmed by mechanised motion. The longer Siraa looked at it, the more alive it appeared. ¡°That¡¯s where I¡¯m staying,¡± Fhosanti said, turning her head to Siraa. ¡°Maybe you¡¯ll visit while you¡¯re home?¡± Their lips were so close. After so long away on service, it had been some time since Siraa had felt such an honest and mutual attraction. Fhosanti¡¯s smile turned to a grin when Siraa hesitated. ¡°I¡¯d like that.¡± The shuttle passed the industrialised volume, moving over a cleared descent path. In the process, it turned, giving Siraa and Fhosanti a view of orbital space. Sharing the moment, they looked to the distant green and blue hues of the planet Jemna-Tol, with its countless artificial rings. Half in the shade, its night-time atmosphere brooded, and clouds sparked with the lights of a bright dancing aurora. The shuttle was transferring from one of Jemna-Tol¡¯s orbital rings on approach to the Teop, a daughter vessel of the boundless machine structure that had overgrown the planet far below, a cultivator of humanity known collectively as Caretaker Tol. Tol was so incomprehensibly vast that, if disassembled, they said that its structure could form another planet entirely by itself; its computational mass alone had to be kept tucked away in extradimensional space to prevent it from crushing the world it presided over. They said a lot of things, Siraa supposed. The Caretaker was why she was here. She had been asked to meet it face-to-face or, at least, an avatar - three avatars, in fact, representatives of Tol, Teop, and Tessaloi. It was unusual, to say the least. No one met a Caretaker, let alone three. A single avatar, created when they wanted to interact with humanity directly, was vanishingly rare. But, of course, it happened. It had to have happened. But, of the trillions of lives that played out in the Jemna-Tol system and the many daughter craft that surrounded its star, Siraa had never actually met anyone that had.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°Can I get you any refreshments before we make the final approach?¡± A drone asked. It was the face of the shuttle, which was itself an independent, intelligent entity, the drone a floating ovoid roughly the size of a human torso suspended by warm and translucent fields. ¡°I¡¯m fine, thank you,¡± Siraa said. Fhosanti shook her head, fixated on the view outside. The shuttle descended into the moon-sized daughter craft, the Teop. It made swift progress between two tightly bound spires until it was met with a flat and featureless silvery field. The shuttle seamlessly crossed the threshold without interruption or turbulence, and they were suddenly overlooking a lush green space. As they passed into the interior, Siraa¡¯s environmental suites revealed the tell-tale tremble of their transition to the Teop¡¯s inertial control - imperceptible to baseline human-types, but she was far from it. The shuttle settled down upon one plateau of a terraced valley. It was crowded here, or at least as crowded as ship space ever got, with population cultivated by design. Siraa could see hundreds of people settled into the kilometres-wide chamber. Distantly, they laughed and played; some worked on sculptures and paintings. The sound of a music concert reached the cabin, a live performance probably before a smattering of fans and followers. They might have travelled from across the vessel, perhaps even the planetary system, to listen. Probably not, though. It sounded a little rough. But, then again, Siraa didn¡¯t have an ear for music. ¡°See you soon?¡± Fhosanti asked hopefully. ¡°I¡¯ll connect when I¡¯m free,¡± Siraa offered. She realised it might have been a little dismissive. Still, Fhosanti didn¡¯t seem to mind, and she had already hurried off of the craft in a whirlwind of activity. Siraa disembarked herself, offering a polite and formal farewell to the shuttle. She had no hand luggage to worry about. Everything she could possibly need was here already, available on request. Making slow progress through the rec zone, Siraa savoured the atmosphere and enjoyed a languid pace. A cr¨¨che of little girls played in a nearby meadow, all physiologically identical but dressed in bright colours and distinct fashions so that they looked apart. Their drone keepers kept a reassuring watch as they played with remotely controlled kites. Siraa saw two girls dressed identically, their hair done just the same way. No doubt they had set their laces to private, too, making the other girls, the adults, and the drones have to guess who was who. Feeling the mischief, Siraa remembered doing the exact same thing once when she was little. ¡°Oh wow! I like your augs!¡± A young child, probably in her first few 10?s, was already on the walkway ahead of Siraa. ¡°Oh, hello.¡± Siraa offered politely. She was never good with kids. ¡°Do you use weapons?¡± The child leaned in, looking closely at the dark bioceramics of Siraa¡¯s plated arm. Though most of Siraa¡¯s body was sturdy and reinforced, her face was pale and expressive, with a slight purple undertone from the saturation of manganese compounds in the softer skin. She couldn¡¯t hide her bemusement at the inquisitive little girl. ¡°I do. But not when we¡¯re here at home.¡± ¡°Wow!¡± ¡°Oh, I am so sorry, Ambassador.¡± A parent-drone cut in. The smooth ovoid zipped to their side, floating at Siraa¡¯s head level. Its field display flashed a pink striation to signal its embarrassment. ¡°This way, child. Let¡¯s not bother the busy Ambassador.¡± The drone led the little girl away, holding her hand with a field tether. ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡± She waved back to Siraa, ¡°Bye, Ambassador!¡± ¡°Bye!¡± Siraa found herself returning the infectious wave. And just like that, the child was gone, her laughter echoing as she ran off to rejoin her sisters in the meadow. It was a short walk from there up to the summit. Passing under a canopy of red and orange, when Siraa broke the treeline, she found a wide clearing, and a lonely tower stood at the highest curve of the hill. It was a tall cylinder, large enough to support six levels, with an exterior of sweeping, unblemished glass. The glass was tinted dark, allowing no hint of what might be found within. Still, after double-checking her location marker, Siraa could see this was her destination. The building was reserved for her and her alone indefinitely. That gave her a moment of disquiet. It was unusual for a Caretaker to place such a complete stay on either space or resources, but Siraa pushed down the doubt. Stepping closer, a mark swept across the surface of the glass, and a doorway opened into the tower. Siraa was met with the taste and smell of pristine, filtered air spilling from the entrance with positive overpressure. Looking back, Siraa saw a black and violet Avesan in the trees. The paper-thin animal folded and refolded before throwing itself into the air and gliding across the clearing in a confident arc. Releasing a soft sigh, she returned to the doorway and stepped inside. Whereof 2. A deciduous tree loomed tall. Leaves curling and brown, a few lay scattered on the hard floor, gathering in the nooks formed from the tree¡¯s roots, which wove through the cement like soft earth. Two unsupported ramps circled as a double helix, rising to connect the next two floors, which ringed the tower as mezzanines. Together, the entire structure framed the tree and made it a statement. It was difficult to look away. But, when Siraa managed it, she found the room she was standing in was decorated with low furniture and sculptures that left an uninterrupted view of the circumference and the valley beyond. Stepping into the chamber, Siraa took a deep breath of the cool air and, savouring the quiet, took one last good look down over the hillside and up to the spires above, which dared to reach towards those stars bright enough to pierce the sheen of the Teop¡¯s surface field. ¡°Siraa! You¡¯re here!¡± A woman called out from above. ¡°I missed you!¡± Siraa turned to see a woman with a swollen abdomen waving her arms in excitement as she rushed down the ramp from the level above. ¡°I¡¯m so, so glad you made it,¡± the stranger said. ¡°You¡¯ve no idea! We¡¯re all just so excited to see you! It¡¯s all anyone is talking about. Well, mostly...¡± Trying not to gawk, Siraa was taken aback when she realised who this woman had to be. She was tall, with long dark hair and completely silverline flesh. Silverline was a state most base human types could enter in response to extreme situations, particularly heat and radiation exposure. Some even did it deliberately for the look, if you could believe resembling a metal statue was ever fashionable. Though given this woman¡¯s loose white dress, her strappy sandals, and especially her awkward behaviour, she gave the impression of someone who heard it was glamorous once and was just trying to look the part. Siraa narrowed her eyes in askance, straightening her back and entering a disciplined military posture as she asked, ¡°Mother?¡± ¡°Oh!¡± Looking momentarily emotional, Teop¡¯s avatar put one hand to her heart and used the other to fan her teary eyes. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do that. I was never in the service.¡± The avatar fussed over Siraa, patting hands down Siraa¡¯s bioceramic-plated arms and looking at her darkly augmented body. Faltering, the old soldier didn¡¯t know what to say, especially given Teop¡¯s eccentric demeanour and the sudden hands-on inspection. ¡°Oh, what did the Tanslot do to you?¡± Teop said quietly but then smiled. ¡°You look so strong though!¡± ¡°It¡¯s good to meet you, Mother,¡± Siraa managed to say. Averting her eyes, she tried not to let the upwelling of her confused feelings show. Her heart was in her throat. ¡°Hmmm?¡± Teop huffed, stepping back and cradling her belly. She seemed uncomfortable after hurrying down from the higher floor. The avatar had what Siraa might call a motherly figure, something from the ancient past when humans bred themselves - pregnancy, Siraa thought was the word. It made her uncomfortable just to look at it. ¡°If we¡¯re being all formal, then yes. It is so, so lovely to meet you! I am your creator, Teop TonDer Tol,¡± the silver-skinned woman said. Taking a few steps into the centre of the room, Teop¡¯s avatar continued. ¡°This is your Grandmother, Tol TonDer Nile.¡± Siraa stepped to Teop¡¯s side, looking as the avatar swept her arm out. She gestured to the tree that dominated the room. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I understand,¡± Siraa said. ¡°Don¡¯t be rude, Siraa, dear. Say hello.¡± Taking a breath, Siraa looked over the tree, which stood at least twenty-five metres tall, its thick trunk towering over them, with countless branches reaching out in every direction. ¡°Hello Grandmother,¡± Siraa said, giving a pause. ¡°It¡¯s good to meet you too.¡± The tree did not respond. Teop caught Siraa off guard again when she hooked her arm through Siraa¡¯s, leading her up the ramp. Physical contact was normally impossible in their system without flagged consent through a neural lace connection. Endoskeletal sub-controllers would intervene. Either the Teop had forgotten, or she just didn¡¯t care. It probably didn¡¯t even apply to her at all. ¡°The Tessaloi is waiting,¡± Teop explained as they stepped up one level and then another. Siraa walked in terse silence until they reached the third-floor balcony, consciously trying not to flex her arm, afraid it might injure the avatar with its augmented musculature and combat frame. Only once they got to the third floor, amidst the boughs of Tol¡¯s branches, did Teop release Siraa¡¯s arm. ¡°There we go,¡± Teop said before finding a seat overlooking the valley. Grunting as she sat, the avatar seemed to struggle to find a comfortable position because of her belly, leaning back into the cushions.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Grimacing, Siraa turned away from the Teop and looked around just in time to see a miniature galleon sail past her head. Swivelling on the spot to track the sailed ship, a scale replica of some ancient type of sea-faring vessel, Siraa blinked, unsure of what exactly she was looking at. The galleon¡¯s sails swelled as the wind gusted in from some source unseen. Buoyant upon a frothing surf suspended within a floating bowl of hardlight, the tiny vessel leaned and careened as if fighting to contain the momentum of many hundreds of tonnage. Upon its deck, dozens of crewwomen surged, working pulleys and primitive mechanisms to steer the ship. They were successful in slowly taming its course and bringing it around to meet Siraa again. Bewildered, Siraa looked down onto the galleon as a captain with a tremendous feathered hat, far wider than her tiny shoulders, laughed. Then, stepping from the steering wheel on the ship¡¯s stern deck, the woman marched to the rails at the edge of the miniature vessel and shouted up to her. ¡°You must be Siraa!¡± ¡°The Tessaloi, I assume,¡± Siraa said, eyes narrowing as the galleon¡¯s deck surged with nearly a hundred women, busying themselves with the maintenance and control of the craft. ¡°Good to see you.¡± ¡°The one and only, though you ain¡¯t seen nothing yet,¡± Tessaloi answered. Then, when Siraa hesitated, she asked, ¡°Enjoying the view?¡± ¡°Sorry. This is incredibly distracting,¡± Siraa said, looking over the intricate detail of the galleon and the women working on board. ¡°Well,¡± Tessaloi¡¯s captain drew a gleaming sabre from a scabbard on her belt, brandishing it. ¡°I need to keep myself occupied somehow!¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± The tiny captain turned, striding across the deck to shout over to the seats. ¡°You didn¡¯t go over the ground rules yet, Teop?¡± ¡°Oh no, not yet darling!¡± Teop called over, waving. ¡°Well, let¡¯s get on with it,¡± the Tessaloi said. Siraa stepped around the flying model ship and folded her arms, saying, ¡°Clearly you didn¡¯t bring me here just to make some introductions.¡± Looking momentarily chastised, the Teop nodded before inviting Siraa to sit. She did so, perching lightly, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. Even then, the cushioned seat creaked from the weight of her dark armour and the enhanced physique beneath it. ¡°First thing¡¯s first, dear,¡± Teop began. ¡°I want you to know you¡¯re here because you are very important to me.¡± Siraa¡¯s eyes narrowed again as the Teop continued. ¡°Everything said on this subject will be human-level communications. That¡¯s because we want you involved, too. So we have invested our attention into these avatars to speak to each other using words.¡± ¡°Come on, hurry this up!¡± The Tessaloi said as its galleon sailed in circles around their seats. Siraa refocused on Teop, frowning and leaning a little closer. ¡°I want you to be a part of the decision-making process,¡± Teop said, a hand on her heart. ¡°Not very long ago-¡± An existential-level warning alert flashed across Siraa¡¯s senses as her inertial references fell out of sync. She bounced to her feet and turned to see a mirror sphere expanding in the air behind the Teop. Siraa had almost had enough time to engage in an altered-state survival protocol when the light caught in the spatial distortion¡¯s orbit flashed away and left behind an unexceptional-looking drone. Siraa was still combat-ready, but the drone flashed a service handshake, which her lace met and accepted. Part of her wanted to reprimand the drone, but something told her that it was a very bad idea. So then, given pause, the old soldier continued to watch the drone as it zipped around at head level, shoving the miniature galleon and its bowl out of the way - to the shouts and jeers of its crew - and hovered over a third seat. Teop, for her part, had made no attempt to stand and sat there sulking at the drone. ¡°Please don¡¯t displace matter into my volume,¡± she huffed. ¡°I decided to accept your invitation after all,¡± the drone said in a clipped tone, field colourless, hiding its mood. ¡°I also accept your terms. I was already listening from ring-side. Continue.¡± Teop rolled her eyes and sighed. She took a moment to brush her long hair back over her shoulders before turning to Siraa again, who retook her seat, eyes on the drone. ¡°You know the Tanslot,¡± Teop offered as an introduction. Knowing was an understatement. The Tanslot had been Siraa¡¯s assigned service vessel for over 10?s on her tour of the Nile Stem. However, it had never used an avatar to engage with them directly. Siraa tried not to acknowledge a feeling of resentment, seeing it avatar a drone now. She sat a little straighter, again reminded of their inordinate separation in standing. They were not colleagues or peers in the service. The Tanslot was a billion tons of, well, you couldn¡¯t call it a warship. Conceptual filters in the neural laces of basic human types outside the service prevented them from even considering E&E Service vessels as warships. Pan-Humanity in the Nile Stem Systems didn¡¯t engage in war, but they did acknowledge bad actors and hostile encounters. The Tanslot¡¯s official role was escort and interference. Siraa knew well that it was a billion tons of raw fucking murder. ¡°An honour,¡± Siraa managed to say. She was hardly an innocent party, herself. The drone seemed to stare at her without eyes before it said, ¡°I had to see what all the fuss is about.¡± ¡°Anyway,¡± Teop put her hand on Siraa¡¯s shoulder, which dragged her attention back. ¡°Two 10?s ago, our darling Tessaloi here intercepted a tightcast from a dark system.¡± ¡°She was close enough for that?¡± Tanslot asked. ¡°Problem?¡± The galleon had resumed its circular voyage. ¡°The signal included the mindstate of a woman called Orette Tol,¡± Teop continued quietly and made a gentle gesture towards the tree that stood tall over them, even up on the second balcony. ¡°She was Tol¡¯s firstborn human like you are mine, and like you, she gave her life to the service.¡± ¡°I see.¡± Siraa said, giving the tree a furtive look. ¡°And, well, you¡¯re a veteran of the service yourself,¡± Teop reasoned. ¡°You represent humanity pretty well, all things considered. So we would like to review the memories of her last mission with you. She was somewhere that she really shouldn¡¯t have been. We want to understand why, and what went wrong.¡± ¡°Alright.¡± Siraa looked back to her mother. ¡°I¡¯m on board.¡± ¡°Wonderful.¡± Teop smiled. ¡°Finally!¡± The captain of the Tessaloi shouted out. ¡°Can we get to the good stuff?!¡± Whereof 3. The Teop¡¯s avatar continued to smile as she stood over a broad case. Then, she pressed a finger to its smooth surface. A mark swept around its periphery, creating a lid that lifted open on a mechanised hinge. Siraa and the Tanslot waited in their seats in careful silence, not quite watching one another but simultaneously refusing to look away. Within the case was a shimmering metal fluid that perfectly coated its interior. The liquid rose into four distinct cylindrical stands. A simple thin white hairband rested upon each of the first three. The fourth held a set of tweezers and another infinitesimally smaller headband. The Teop used the tweezers to pick it up. ¡°Come here, darling,¡± she called out and began to chase the tiny galleon. The ship swerved on its miniature ocean, bouncing on cresting waves, crashing down with each break in the surf. On its deck, the crew shouted as they organised themselves into shift parties, climbing, adjusting the rigging, raising the sails, and directing the ship into a long swerve. Turning and turning, the vessel slowly dragged itself to rest, floating beside the seating area. Then, dropping a black anchor to the deepest depths of its bowl, it impacted the hardlight below with an impossibly resounding thump, which shook the ground and made the glass walls of the tower rattle. Siraa felt it in her chest. Seeming deeply amused, the Teop¡¯s avatar leaned over the deck like a giant. She used her tweezers to deliver the headband into the waiting grasp of a crewwoman, who ran, clambering into the stern deck. Then, visible through the windows of its captain¡¯s quarters, she delivered the relic bestowed upon them to her captain, who dismissed her and sat back in her velvet seat, putting on the device. Teop took the other three headbands from the case and returned to the seats. ¡°Here you go, Siraa, dear,¡± the Teop said as she approached the old warrior. Gesturing as if seeking permission, once Siraa nodded, Teop lovingly brushed back her short black hair and set the headband on her daughter¡¯s head. ¡°There we go,¡± Teop said. ¡°Thank you.¡± Siraa tried not to look uncomfortable. Turning to the Tanslot, the Teop gave the drone a prim look. Then she dismissively tossed the third headband up, high into the air above it. Zipping with precise motion, the drone followed the headband, catching it as it arced back downwards. The Tanslot returned to floating over her seat, wearing the headband around the narrowest part of her avatar¡¯s ovoid body. ¡°Very funny,¡± the Tanslot said. Teop responded by sticking her tongue out and blowing a raspberry at the drone. ¡°Are these necessary?¡± Siraa asked the Teop as she sat down again. ¡°Not strictly, no. They only act as an intermediate interface for your neural lace or our equivalents. But you are here to be equal to us, so you having the physical ability to start and stop the procedure is important to me,¡± Teop patiently explained. Siraa tried not to squirm over the suggestion of equality as she inhabited the Teop, a moon-sized entity, a sentient intelligence that was aware and advanced enough to control countless aspects of life support and civil and industrial activities for the myriad humans and drones aboard. With a quick glance out of the window again, she saw the kilometres-wide valley, knowing that even that itself was an insignificantly small recreation zone and a tiny portion of the massive daughter craft¡¯s volume. ¡°Equality.¡± The Tanslot said quietly. ¡°If that concerns you, I shall disable the last of her conceptual filters, let her think as broadly as her human mind is capable of.¡± Siraa looked owlishly towards the Tanslot¡¯s avatar. What the service vessel said, dismissive and cold, frightened her. But Siraa tried not to let it show, quickly narrowing her eyes and tensing her hands into tight fists. ¡°I was under the impression that service agents had no conceptual filters,¡± Siraa said, trying to remain professional with only a note of protest. ¡°It is done,¡± the Tanslot said. ¡°I don¡¯t feel any different.¡± That much was true. Siraa hadn¡¯t even detected a signal to her lace. She considered that perhaps the Tanslot was only playing some sort of joke on her, some kind of higher intelligence humour. The Tanslot, though, did not deign to give her a response. Instead, the drone once again only stared without eyes. ¡°Let¡¯s play nice, please,¡± the Teop interjected into their moment. She put on her headband, taking some time to ensure it sat just right in her hair. ¡°Are we all ready?¡± the Teop asked. Siraa took a steadying breath before offering the Teop¡¯s avatar a nod. As soon as she did, Siraa felt a tingling in her fingertips and toes that suddenly swept upwards until it engulfed her entirety. She saw stars. Her black armoured body fell back heavily into her seat cushions as her neural connections were repurposed for an experience she was not biologically designed for, neural lace accepting and interpreting a wider array of sensations and information than she was strictly able to process. So it overrode and blocked her natural senses of sight, hearing, smell, touch, taste, and everything else with it... [UDT sync confirmed - 31,570,391,720,843.] [Pre-refereed security clearance granted - Ref. Tol TonDer NILE.] [Signal Sequence log unlocked, re-enabled.] [¡°TextTrans¡± Record Event function enabled.] Signal Sequence: [Lace Adapted Interface, Handshake Complete - Confirmation signed T31 @ L20,843.] {trans.: NTC}, relay, Tracked Copy, received @L20,843, check to read: [x]. Being read @L20,844 in Personel Suite 103,009., Independent Daughter Vessel ¡°Teop¡±. o/o Tol TonDer NILE by: ¡°Text-Trans¡± (recognised archaic non-sentient. Note Well: ¡°TextTrans¡± Record Event function will remain enabled to document End-Read-point). (so cleared) & ¡°Orette Tol¡± (invited party. Note Well: E&E Service on record. Note Well: simulated mind-state & engram will remain enabled to document End-Read-point). (so cleared) & ¡°Siraa Teop¡± (invited party. Note Well: E&E Service on record). (so cleared) & ¡°Teop Aft Teh Tol TonDer NILE¡± (invited party). (so cleared) & ¡°Tessaloi Aft Teh Tol TonDer NILE¡± (invited party). (so cleared) & ¡°Tanslot Aft Teh Tol TonDer NILE¡± (invited party. Note Well: E&E Service on record). (so cleared) & ¡°Tol TonDer NILE¡± (authorised holder. Note Well: E&E Service on record). (so cleared) Sentient perception of the following document will be recorded. Each check to proceed: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [Thank you. Proceeding:] Note Well: Attention: The following is a text-only dynamically scrolled document which may not be vocalised, rerecorded, copied, stored or media-transferred in any conventionally accessible form. Any attempt to do so will be noted. Please adjust reading speed: [Human]. Begin-Read point of Tracked Copy document: From: Tol TonDer NILE To: Siraa Teop & strictly as cleared: [PostH. Interrog. w/ Orette Tol, c/o E&E, AAMOF Final Service.] Teop: I know it¡¯s a lot to take in, dear. Please, take your time. The system will record everything, and we can review anything we miss afterwards. Tessaloi: We¡¯ve already wasted so much time! Let¡¯s get on with it. Text-Trans: Note Well: Tessaloi is repeatedly trying to fast-forward the simulation. This is declined by all other involved parties.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Tanslot: Forgive my sister. She is just not used to speaking with humans like we are. She has no crew. Tessaloi: I got a crew today, actually. Ignore her. She thinks she¡¯s a bigger deal than she really is. Siraa: I¡¯m ready. Teop: Well done, Siraa, dear! Tol: Orette, provide a debrief on your final mission. Start from the beginning, and explain how you were recruited. You had resigned from the E&E Service and left for the independent Mai-Sophos system without intending to return. Orette: The parliament of Mai Sophos was in session. The entire world waited with bated breath. Finally, it was the day that they would announce whether they would remain independent or join the interstellar pan-humanity of the Accord. Siraa: I¡¯m not familiar with the Accord. Orette: Don¡¯t you remember the Accord? Aren¡¯t they still flying around out there? No matter. For anyone else reading this, abridged: united democratic peoples and their Caretakers spanning a narrow region within the expanse of the NILE stem systems. Teop: It was an old alliance of Caretakers, back when they still wanted to fight back. Before my time, actually. But I think Mother was in it? Tanslot: Dead and buried. Continue. Orette: We¡¯d done everything possible to stop you, Tol. I wasn¡¯t a member of parliament. I wasn¡¯t of this world. I was just an alien sitting amongst friends, high in the House of State Legislature. I was a subject matter expert for the party opposing you. The conference room was filled with politicians, aides, and hangers-on. The team of native experts and their advisers had worked towards this day for years. We were waiting for a speech from the head minister of planetary affairs. He would be the one to make the announcement. The trid display showed the grand chamber ahead of us, packed out by the government and its opposition. Their numbers churned, finding their seats whilst trying to look composed for the cameras. I remember the smell of black cafe and stim smoke. Across the table from me, Nelan and Besdan, my personal assistant and public image advisor, murmured to one another. There wasn¡¯t anything to see on screen yet, and the results were entirely secret until the official announcement. So without even a leak to go off of, all we could do was wait. Frustrated and tired, I ran my hands over my face, palming my tired eyes. The feeling of my fingers over the stubble of my shaven head... The wait would be another twenty minutes or so. Siraa: Can I check the terminology? You used the word minutes. Orette: One hundred seconds to a minute. One hundred minutes to an hour. The Maian day was shy of eighteen hours and used a digital calendar. Siraa: Thank you. Please, don¡¯t let me stop you. Orette: I stopped myself when I smudged the complicated makeup and face paints I had to wear. My hands smoothed down the sides of my dark shirt as I stood. Nelan looked over. He was a typical Mai with a large nose and long limbs. Hair combed back, beard well kept. The Mai were alien but close enough. We were all human-descendent. His black and white striped face offered what I recognised as sympathy. Our eyes met, and we nodded at each other - understanding - both as tired, stim wired, and ready for what was to come. Excusing myself, I left the meeting to find a restroom. Stepping past the doorway to the changing area, I locked myself in and cast up a trid of my face using my bracelet/console. Then, with a huff, I saw about fixing my ruined makeup, using pieces from a case I kept in my bag. Despite my bad habits, I had to be ready for the camera. In the tradition of the Mai natives, I drew on this swirling mix of green and turquoise every day. It was supposed to express my life and work for all to see. You know all about that, I bet. It was a pain to get right, though; half of it was fiction anyway. Compared to the locals, my eyes were large, and my nose small. The markings, according to Besdan, did well to exaggerate my xenotic heritage and make a show of it. It got me looks. That was the point. I was finishing up when my earpiece started chirping, and the trid vanished. The smooth black bracelet/console flashed green. So I answered it. ¡°Hello,¡± it spoke to my earpiece in the Accord¡¯s bridge language NTC, used back then when a participant wasn¡¯t sure which language to use at the start of a conversation. ¡°How do you do. Hi there.¡± ¡°Hello. Is this a machine?¡± I answered in Maian. ¡°Yes. Hello,¡± it responded in fluent Maian. ¡°Ambassador Hyrun Sambarr would like to be connected to you. Shall I put you through to the Embassy of the Human Accord? Please be aware that this qualifies as an interstellar transmission under the disambiguation of the diplomatic communications act-¡± ¡°Fine. Fine,¡± I cut in. Tanslot: The Sambarr was involved? Orette: The Sambarr was more than just involved. I¡¯ll get to that. Siraa: I am unfamiliar with the Sambarr. Teop: Oh, the Sambarr is one of Tol¡¯s sisters, but they don¡¯t talk much anymore. Tessaloi: That¡¯s putting it mildly. I intercepted this mind-state in a tight cast on a slow, lightspeed crawl in deep space. It was directed towards the Inmet-Sambarr system. Tanslot: My, my, someone¡¯s been getting her hands dirty. Tessaloi: You¡¯re one to talk. Teop: Please continue, Orette. Orette: Posing as best I could with my posture straight, I put my serious face on, assuming they could see me. I knew catching a micro-camera floating in the air would be impossible. I had warned the locals that the Accord would use spyware, even inside the centre of an equivi-tech planet¡¯s governance. Once upon a time, it had been my job to review just that sort of espionage on the other side of the divide. I told them all your tricks. I didn¡¯t have the clearance to know what they did with that information, though. Of course, the Accord would be more likely to co-opt the mind in my bracelet/console or the building¡¯s security system. Sophos probably wouldn¡¯t allow that, though. I wonder which you did. Was it both? ¡°... Put me through,¡± I said. A pause on the line. I double-checked the door was locked before pacing around the room. The wait would be deliberate. The Ambassador was trying to make me uncomfortable. Even though I knew the game, my heart was beating hard, thumping in my chest. Give me a second. He¡¯s the reason I died. I don¡¯t want to go over this. Tol: Continue, Orette. Orette: ¡°Orette Tol. How are you?¡± The Ambassador. ¡°Don¡¯t call me that,¡± I said after he used my full name. Once upon a time, I was your favoured child, Tol. Now, I am a free woman - or I was. How long have I been dead? ¡°We¡¯re going to be hosting a media event within the hour,¡± Hyrun said, ignoring my protest. I could hear him smiling. ¡°I have someone here who is very excited to meet you.¡± That was when I put everything together. I have to admit I was speechless. ¡°Your hand was well played,¡± he said, his smarmy voice pausing for dramatic effect. ¡°Nevertheless, Service Support will be here within the day.¡± ¡°Just like that?¡± The adrenaline in my veins gave way to a deep stomach ache. My neck and face felt hot. The room was spinning. ¡°Mhm. Yes. I do expect you to come to join us at the event. It would be a shame if we had to look into extradition before the local judicial system is supplanted. We have a lot to catch up on, do we not, Orette Tol?¡± I don¡¯t remember hanging up. I was too strong for the local architecture, and the door rattled on its hinges as I stormed out. Everyone stood when I reentered the meeting room, watching me with wide eyes and careful postures. I took a breath, gauging their reaction, and evened myself before speaking. ¡°I¡¯m going to the embassy,¡± I said. Nelan was caught off-guard. The paint on his face couldn¡¯t hide it. Still, he looked intense when he realised what was happening and picked up his coat. I didn¡¯t say no. Ten minutes and we were outside, leaving the halls of the foyer, passing the house¡¯s guard, and navigating through press and ¡®officials¡¯ trying to get the first word out of us. ¡°Yes. Hello. No, I¡¯m afraid I can¡¯t comment. You¡¯ll find out when I do,¡± I said. The lie caught in my throat. ¡°Sorry. Excuse me.¡± We stooped into an autocar that I called with my bracelet/console. The sleek white vehicle was uniform to almost everyone in the city, issued quickly from a central depot available on request. It was dumb tech and had no self-awareness. Still, it got the job done, reading its surroundings using cameras - no driver necessary. Every side of the car and the roof had windows more transparent than glass, at least from within. It was metallic white and impenetrable from the outside, giving us a little privacy, provided that my console hadn¡¯t been co-opted after all. Nelan hadn¡¯t said a word this entire time. He sat facing forward; I sat across from him. ¡°Ten years,¡± he said, looking out the window as we sped onto a rising highway. ¡°And just like that it¡¯s over.¡± ¡°This isn¡¯t the end,¡± I said quietly. ¡°Nothing that can¡¯t be undone. You¡¯re all still here to fight.¡± I gestured to him as I sat back in my seat. It caught his attention. ¡°Are you going to use that?¡± I asked, referring to the pistol hidden in his jacket, beneath his coat. ¡°I¡¯m not supposed to let you get home, if you turn out to be a plant.¡± ¡°I figured.¡± I hired him as my PA despite suspecting he was a member of the local security bureau. They wanted to keep an eye on me. It made sense. ¡°Thing is, I don¡¯t think you were,¡± he said. I didn¡¯t say anything. This time I looked out of the window. We were driving around the ring road, and I could see the NSB plaza. The big screen there showed the news. Though I couldn¡¯t hear it, the headline was enough. The Maian parliament had voted in favour of joining the Accord. Sophos did not veto the decision. Hundreds of people in that plaza alone must have been watching, sitting and standing, or just going about their lives but stopping to see where their government was taking them. ¡°I think you had your own reasons,¡± Nelan said. ¡°It just didn¡¯t work out.¡± ¡°A gun wouldn¡¯t do much if I was still active in the Service,¡± I said. ¡°No. It would send a message, though.¡± I laughed and shook my head. ¡°Take me with you.¡± His request surprised me. ¡°What?¡± ¡°If you¡¯re going back out there, take me with you.¡± ¡°Thought you were loyal to the cause.¡± ¡°I am. I was.¡± He frowned, eyes distant. ¡°Ever feel like you don¡¯t know what¡¯s really going on?¡± ¡°You have no idea,¡± I said. ¡°Besides, it feels like we¡¯ve given away something that can¡¯t be undone, even if you change a few rules and regulations. Even if we reverse the decision and secede, it still happened. We willingly gave away our independence. I wouldn¡¯t expect you to understand. But...¡± I looked into his eyes as his determination grew. ¡°If I stand any chance of actually doing something about it, I need what you have,¡± he said. ¡°I need perspective. I need to see what¡¯s out there.¡± ¡°All humans are free in the Accord. We can do anything we like. No laws, just paradise.¡± I recited the pitch I fought so hard against for so long before adding, ¡°But what they don¡¯t talk about is how they encourage you to behave, and what they have to do to make sure all their pet humans live soft, peaceful lives.¡± I couldn¡¯t finish. I knew that going over my loathing was selfish. These weren¡¯t my people who had voted to dissolve their culture without realising the repercussions. My culture was the enemy, and I didn¡¯t share their loss, no matter how far I tried to run. He didn¡¯t say anything more; instead, he fixed his stare out the window again. So I didn¡¯t press him further. A vast, geodesic dome lay overhead, countless orange lights beaming down upon the inhabitants of Mai, an artificial sky of metal construction that sealed them from the world beyond. The planet lacked an atmosphere, so their Caretaker provided it for them. The autocar pulled off of the highway and onto a rail system that leapt through the carefully and orderly designed metropolis. We were headed for the needle, a vast tower in the city¡¯s centre that pierced the sky dome and led to a great space elevator. Our path took us higher and higher, cutting between tall tower blocks and platforms built atop each other as superstructures, with regular city buildings stacked higher and higher upon them, dotted with small parkways, grown in their shade with artificial light. At the needle, the autocar joined itself to a great elevator shaft and became one of the hundreds ascending to the surface of the great dome, a machine city in and of itself, and then higher still to the orbital framework. Even as Nelan remained unmoved, I couldn¡¯t take my eyes away from the view as we were lifted kilometre after kilometre upward, through fabrication complexes, mass stores, and finally up high enough to see the dome below us, and the roughly cratered surface of Mai beyond. The Caretaker Sophos reached out in vast arches, connecting hundreds of these dome cities on the surface of Mai, out to beyond the horizon, where the sparkling stars reflected on its brilliant metal plating. These domes connected to other space elevators along the equator, pushing mass upwards into the orbital ring it was constructing, the first of its kind in this system, at least. That was why I first joined the Service, to see the wonders of NILE Stem. Sometimes I dimly remembered being young and hopeful. Of course, I didn¡¯t feel that way anymore, but I still liked seeing the sights. The Embassy of the Accord was built above the dome, where the needle met the path to orbit. It was housed in an ornate hub of its own, constructed of silver spokes supporting a vast platform, practically floating off to the side of the space elevator. A hemisphere of a vast hardlight force field, shimmering like a diamond, capped the platform that, I surmised, must have required its own power source that nearly out-performed the entire city below. The Mai-Sophos system didn¡¯t have field tech and everything that entailed, which I reasoned was probably what Caretaker Sophos hoped to get out of joining the Accord. It was Nelan¡¯s turn to stare, transfixed in wonder at the shining field array. However, I have to admit I was less interested in that sort of architecture. It didn¡¯t feel as real, as authentic, evoking instead a sense of wonderment that came from defying the physics humans had initially evolved to conceptualise and understand. You could only live in a dream so long before it lost its appeal. Whereof 4. Tessaloi: Can someone explain why she is going on and on about architecture? Teop: It¡¯s what she remembers. Her interests are entirely valid! Pay attention. Something important might come up. Tessaloi: No, no. So let me get this straight. She betrayed the service, fled across the STEM, and tried to undermine Mother. Then when they asked nicely, she just came crawling back! Tanslot: Of course she did. Tessaloi: Was she not afraid of dying? How about being turned off now? There¡¯s always the Basilisk Protocol. Teop: Don¡¯t you dare even joke about that! Tol: Enough. Teop: Sorry. Tessaloi: Sorry. Tanslot: I never thought you had it in you, Tess. Tol: Continue, Orette. Orette: We didn¡¯t get out of the autocar until Nelan was ready, and when we did, we were parked in the driveway of a tall, white-walled chateau that looked out to the ultimate, crystal night sky. It was an aesthetic lifted straight from old art, some vintage structure in a hedged garden, trees peeking out over leafy walls as they stood tall. That¡¯s the thing about Caretakers, after you meet a few. They all think they¡¯re so striking and original. They never realise we¡¯re the ones that have to indulge them. Tessaloi: I think she¡¯s talking about you. Orette: A woman with a hovering camera hurried up the steps and inside. I couldn¡¯t see security, which meant it was good. No one was being made to wait outside. ¡°Listen,¡± Nelan caught my arm before I walked up the steps. ¡°Thank you. I mean it. What do I need to know?¡± I sized him up before answering. I suppose I wanted to see how good he was when he wasn¡¯t pretending to do busy work. ¡°They do things differently back home,¡± I answered carefully. ¡°Act like you belong. If they try to stop you, appeal to their sense of liberty. Tell them you¡¯re in the Accord now. They¡¯ll eat it up.¡± ¡°Right.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry about the gun. If it seems like they¡¯re trying to cause trouble, don¡¯t rise to it. They like to act up. It¡¯s how they play ¡®the attention game¡¯.¡± To Nelan¡¯s credit, he didn¡¯t ask what that was, but his face creased with distaste. One final glance caught the sparkling, infinite sky outside the dome, and I started walking again. We ascended the steps into the chateau. The murmur of crowds and soft music spilt from the ornate, wooden doorway - already open. Another step. Red carpet, the smell of carbonated wine, a fireplace with burning organic matter, plant-analogue. A marble hall with rounded pillars separating two floors. A double staircase connected them. The crowd, journalists and millionaires, propagandists and the service agents that played them. Chatter, just wasted time, in the gleaming space. The twinkling music was loud enough to complement and soft enough to avoid disturbing the celebration. It was all a show. I caught sight of a man in a dark cloak and skirt standing by the fire. Offworld features, like me. Hyast or Guinn, if I had to guess. He raised his drink to me in a toast the moment I entered. He was probably one of my adversaries this last decade. Still, I¡¯m not ashamed to say I¡¯d never even gotten a hint of his existence. If you¡¯re going to be beaten, only let it be by the best. You¡¯ll learn more that way. I gave him a smile. No need to be a sore loser. He gestured up the staircase, so that¡¯s the way I went. On my way up, I saw a line of photographers capturing the moment. They used their stands to set up a recording zone around the base of the stairs, and I assumed it was to capture a speech that would be made shortly. I could sense Nelan at my heels. Someone else called up, asking for a comment. Ignoring them, I found the landing gave way to rooms full of guests. In the air hung cloying smoke - mild narcotics. ¡°What are we doing, anyway?¡± Nelan asked quietly, eager not to be overheard. ¡°Speaking to the ambassador.¡± Instinctively, Nelan put a sleeve over his face, but I gave him a look, and he stopped. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t he greet us?¡± Nelan asked. ¡°Probably.¡± We moved from doorway to doorway, peering at lazy inhabitants, drinking, cheering, and watching the news. They all seemed local, with no distinct xeno-humans from the Guinn, Tol, Sambarr, the Rost Continuum, or the Feds. But, they may have just been adapted for the locality.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. What I didn¡¯t say to Nelan is that they¡¯d be more likely to get what they wanted if they made us run to them. So together, we stepped into one of the sitting rooms. A man, too drunk to be coherent, seemed mesmerised by my features and the paintwork, even though he could not get up from the lounge he had collapsed on. He swallowed up enough of my attention that I didn¡¯t see them move closer. Over ten feet tall, the sleek, black monolith rose from the corner of the room. Then, silently, it propelled itself towards us - stopping at our side. Nelan noticed first, and he greeted the drone with a polite hello. It made me jump - which I¡¯m guessing was the intention. Nothing equivi-tech should be able to sneak up on me. It got past my baseline ping. I hadn¡¯t felt the slightest tremor in my endoskeleton, so they were probably actively stealthed. Nelan seemed surprised by my reaction and put a hand on my arm. He didn¡¯t know what a service drone could do. ¡°Orette Tol,¡± they said in that self-assured, smug voice. ¡°Nelan,¡± he introduced himself, offering a hand to the thing with no arms. Then, using a wispy manipulation field, the drone returned the gesture by touching his palm with an analogous shape. ¡°A pleasure,¡± they said, shaking his hand. ¡°Ambassador Hyrun Sambarr.¡± ¡°Oh.¡± Nelan looked to me for confirmation. I was glowering at the thing. I should have guessed they were a drone. ¡°Well,¡± Nelan said, ¡°The pleasure¡¯s all mine.¡± That was when the drunk managed to stumble out of his chair. I glanced over to see him leave the room. But wait. No, he stopped and said something. That isn¡¯t right. Tanslot: There are two memories here. Something has been left for us, buried. Tol: What did he say, Orette? Orette: It¡¯s difficult. I can¡¯t... Teop: You can do it, Orette! I believe in you! Orette: The man turned to face me, suddenly sobered. What did he say? He said... Sambarr: I¡¯m sorry, my dear sister, for what will likely become of this. I have repeatedly simulated the events to come, stared into the future and despaired. Still, I had to know if we could ever resettle the dark systems. I had to be sure. If we never speak again, then please do not begrudge me that. Tessaloi: That¡¯s not good. Teop: Mother? Tol: Continue, Orette. Orette: Right. Right. The drunk just stumbled out, muttering his apologies as he realised we were doing something important. That left Nelan and me alone with the drone, which floated across the room as if to look out of the window, over the gardens and towards the crystal night. ¡°I¡¯m heartened that you came, Orette Tol, but I can see your scorn. So I will be brief. Your life partner - Sobol Tol, I believe his name is - is sowing discord. You left him behind so long ago.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t leave him behind.¡± ¡°You and the service both left him in Yunne.¡± ¡°He died. I saw it happen.¡± ¡°No. Afraid not, and in your absense he has set himself up with a petty fiefdom, ruling over a lower tech world like some kind of biological lordship.¡± ¡°What?¡± Behind me, I could feel Nelan step closer in silent inquiry. ¡°I exaggerate, but only barely. He has made loose arrangements with their primitive ruling class, dictators and democracies, that sort of thing. He has exchanged service insights for profit and personal power. You would be proud. He¡¯s done everything you couldn¡¯t, here.¡± I just felt so angry. I could tear Hyrun to pieces, and they knew it. They swivelled to face me, then indicated their caution with a yellow striation. That didn¡¯t stop them from goading me, though. ¡°More ambitious than you, for sure,¡± the ambassador feigned a mild cough - despite not having a throat. ¡°Never-the-less. Meet the service agent that will be accompanying you and... Nelan, I assume...¡± We turned to see a drone float into the room. It was an entirely different kind of drone. This was the first time I had seen the design. Sleek, sharp, like a blade, studded with spheres that I assume housed its weapons tech. There was no concealing its purpose. ¡°I haven¡¯t agreed to do anything,¡± I said, watching the murder drone drift through the room slowly, the tip of its bladed body aimed towards me. ¡°You seem to think we¡¯re here to negotiate,¡± the new drone said, cooly. ¡°I was never defanged,¡± I answered, unlocking my safeties but not making a move yet. ¡°You want to try it, toy-box?¡± Yeah, I was pissed off. ¡°Orette...¡± Nelan put his hand on my arm. Then, looking back, meeting his eyes, he shook his head and squeezed his fingers against my biceps. His expression said it all. Not here, not now. ¡°This is Ap Ap Tensarek Et Sho Kalskipta TonDer Sambarr,¡± the ambassador gave a gentle and very formal introduction, all things considered. "And this is Orette Aft Teh Tol TonDer NILE." ¡°Charmed,¡± said Tensarek. ¡°Think you can try an abduction before I make a move?¡± I asked, systems still preloaded. ¡°I was hoping you would see reason, Orette,¡± the ambassador sighed. ¡°We are returning to Yunne, and Sobol is going to get in a lot of trouble if he gets in the way.¡± I scowled at the murder drone, and the ambassador continued. ¡°You know as well as I do, Orette, that our utopia spawns few warriors. Every one of us is needed to keep the peace.¡± ¡°So you think of yourself as a warrior,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s cute.¡± ¡°Regardless,¡± they said with a brief flash of green. ¡°I did want to offer you a small gesture. You see, it is not entirely by accident that you remember Sobol¡¯s death.¡± Hyrun leaned towards us. Its ten-foot size loomed, black in silhouette against the vista beyond. ¡°As is the practice in the service, following your deployment in Yunne, your memory scape was sanitised and adjusted. As a result, you were made to believe your life partner was killed and not merely left behind.¡± Hyperventilating. I think I was hyperventilating. I needed air and turned away. I felt dizzy. ¡°So to you, I offer justice, Orette Tol,¡± the ambassador said in all but a whisper. ¡°I will return your rightful memories and allow you the opportunity to save your lost love.¡± How could I say no to that? In Yours And My Desire 1. CHAPTER 2: IN YOURS AND MY DESIRE Tol: Orette... Orette: What is it? Tol: All this time, I thought you decided to leave Mai-Sophos alone. I wanted you to be free to live as you saw fit. But, if I had known they extorted you, Orette, if I had known they did this, I would never have allowed this to happen. I have failed you. I¡¯m sorry. Orette: An apology doesn¡¯t mean much. Tol: Why did you not reach out to me? Orette: You were the last person- thing- on my mind. It¡¯s all the Service. You¡¯re all the same. Can you stop? I didn¡¯t want to do this. I don¡¯t want to do this. Teop: Perhaps a little break is in order, at the very least. I can see dear Siraa¡¯s reactivity is slowing down as well. We can think this over and, if you change your mind, Orette, resume the simulation when we¡¯re all thinking more clearly. Tanslot: That is a good idea. Tol: Very well, then. Siraa willed it through numbed senses, and she became distantly aware of her fingers clasping the hairband around her head. Managing some slack grip, she pulled, and, with a groan, reality came flooding back. She was slumped in her seat, pale face damp with perspiration. Her eyes found the large tree in the tower¡¯s centre; branches stretched all around this higher floor, and Siraa watched it for a time with a pensive look. ¡°Oh dear,¡± the Teop¡¯s avatar removed her headband and fidgeted with it. The Tanslot floated deathly still. Tessaloi¡¯s galleon rocked on a captive ocean¡¯s waves. Siraa stirred. Without meeting any of their gazes, she broke the silence. ¡°That all seemed very archaic. Dated. Their drones were still made of metal. The fieldwork was unsophisticated. How long ago was this?¡± Teop huffed and resettled, adjusting her seated position, a hand on her belly. The avatars seemed troubled, and the chrome-skinned woman paused before answering. ¡°Relatively speaking, more than two point five 101?s.¡± ¡°Right.¡± Siraa grimaced, turning her eyes from the tree, towards Tanslot¡¯s drone. Imagining it returning her look, she then sighed and stood. ¡°I¡¯m going to think about this,¡± she said, walking away. It was nine 10?s later, Siraa sat in a shuttle overlooking the Moss-Danph 12 Living Spire. Feeling restless, she had dared to reach out through her recent contacts and connect with Fhosanti. To her relief, the glamorous artist seemed both surprised and delighted to get the message and agreed to meet up in that very same light cycle. ¡°You probably don¡¯t recognise me,¡± the shuttle¡¯s drone said softly. Siraa turned her gaze from the kilometres-tall living spire visible through the wide window. ¡°I was the shuttle who brought you home. May I?¡± ¡°No. I do,¡± Siraa said, managing a small smile. ¡°Please.¡± She gestured to the seat across her, and the drone hovered above it. Its spheroid force field rippled a pink blush. ¡°I¡¯m Siraa,¡± she gently prompted the drone, who had gone silent. But, of course, the drone already knew this. The flight had been prearranged.Stolen novel; please report. ¡°I¡¯m Es 231010. Please, call me TenTen.¡± ¡°TenTen. Glad to meet you properly.¡± ¡°I hope you don¡¯t mind my say-so, but thank you for your service. I always wanted to join the E&E, but I never did get the invitation.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Siraa had heard that many times before but kept her smile polite, her expression interested. ¡°That¡¯s right. Though that¡¯s not to say I¡¯m not satisfied with my own lot. I volunteer instead.¡± ¡°Ah. Hence...¡± She nodded towards the window. ¡°Exactly. I just wanted to know if everything¡¯s alright? I understand if you can¡¯t say anything. Still, I¡¯ve never had someone on indefinite full priority before, and issued from the Caretaker.¡± There it was. Siraa sighed, face falling. She didn¡¯t want to lie to them. ¡°We¡¯re doing what we can,¡± she said. ¡°Right. Of course,¡± the drone began to float back to its physical dock with the shuttle. ¡°Thank you.¡± ¡°No.¡± She smiled again, looking over to the drone, who stopped, rotating to look back. ¡°Thank you, TenTen.¡± The shuttle set down amidst a silver sky, where only the brightest stars pierced the ship¡¯s surface field. It was a vast, airy gulf, and a band of light streaked across the sky, warm and bright, approximating a tropical climate. The landing area was apart from the tower itself. This entire spire section was its own enclosed commune, surrounded by a shallow pool of water suspended in glistening hardlight. The water tumbled over the edge in all directions, creating plumes of gentle cloud vapour surrounding the vista and letting the pool appear to touch the horizon like a shimmering cosmic mirror. Siraa stepped down from the shuttle, which waited for her as she crossed the towards the spire. She strode towards the commune, wearing only a black cloak fastened beneath the shoulders of her combat frame, her body covered by the shining bioceramics and exoskeleton that were now a part of her biology. Under the field sky, women bathed in the bright, humid heat, lounging and drinking, chatting and relaxing. Their naked forms showed all kinds of body mods and augs, oiled or metallic skins in every colour, and perfected shapes with features grown on demand. None of them was built for violence, though. Instead, they were leisurely and soft. On the periphery of her senses, Siraa felt her lace receive social ratings, a buzz of approval and disapproval, for her arrival here. A distinctly hairless woman with two sets of arms looked over from where she lay on a reclining seat. She made a show of rolling her eyes contemptuously at the arrival of the service agent before languidly moving off of her chair and burying her face between the thighs of the woman next to her, who gasped appreciatively. Siraa felt her cheeks burn, though not from the hot artificial light, and she quickly looked away. In truth, Siraa had struggled to interact with people outside the Service for a long time now. They always felt slow. Objectively, Siraa knew her bioenergetics were baseline until unlocked, and she knew as a fact that the conceptual filters people had on their laces worked more quickly than was perceptible in a simple conversation. However, she always felt something was there, some pause, some delay, something she could feel if not see. That wasn¡¯t mentioning the conditioning, either. The filters stopped people from being able to think about the worst realities they faced. Instead, they tended to almost obsess over a couple of predictable subjects. Of course, being able to use their laces to induce pleasure and euphoria at will didn¡¯t help either. Communes like this were filled with women who made themselves feel good to combat the slightest hint of anxiety, using direct pleasure feedback or digital simulations of bespoke psychoactive effects. They called themselves psychonauts, explorers of the human experience, and artists divine. But from a Service woman¡¯s perspective, it was just a gross feedback loop, letting them forget the looming threat, endlessly chasing some hyper-socialised ideal. Was that who Fhosanti was? By the time she crossed the threshold and entered the spire proper, surrounded by people lounging in hedonistic bliss, Siraa began to doubt herself. This may be a bad idea, after all. However, all that worry and prejudice evaporated when she saw Fhosanti descending in a glass elevator. She was talking to someone else but, when she saw Siraa, broke out into a wide smile. She was well dressed, her hair done up, her demeanour composed. As she stepped out of the elevator, wearing a long coat worn open, loose-fitting trousers, and large boots, she greeted Siraa like she was the only woman on the ship. ¡°Siraa!¡± Fhosanti beamed. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect to hear from you so soon!¡± Her smile was infectious. ¡°I had some free time.¡± ¡°This is Mnesha,¡± Fhosanti introduced a shorter woman who waved politely. ¡°Hello.¡± She made a show of looking Siraa over. ¡°You must be the mysterious ambassador we¡¯re hearing all about...¡± ¡°The only one aboard, afraid to say,¡± Siraa said. ¡°Nice to meet you.¡± ¡°Mnesha¡¯s part of my team,¡± Fhosanti said as a little boast before turning to the other woman. ¡°You¡¯ll excuse us, won¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Of course. Have fun, you two.¡± "See you around," Siraa offered. ¡°Bye!¡± Fhosanti laughed and waved after Mnesha, before turning back to Siraa, and lowering her voice to a conspiratorial tone. ¡°I had a great idea for tonight.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± Siraa couldn''t help but share a playful grin.