MartinFlightIntoEternityMartin Flight into EternityThere's horses waiting for them, one of them somewhat oversized to handle Godfrey's size and weight. Martin clucks approvingly while he checks the horses' feet and saddles and tack. "I'll do the shifting on this trip," he says. "We need to get a move on, and you've not done a hellride yet. You'll have ample opportunity later on, I promise. Next stop, Cydonia." "Yes, Martin" Godfrey says, mounting his horse. They're well away from the castle, and shifting into shadow, before Martin picks the conversation back up. "Yah, that place. I've not taken any of the Family there, and most don't even know about it. I know I had to have programmed that into you, so you already know about the high tech and my companies and my labs and about virtual-Marsnet. What I need to tell you is about your status. You're going to have to dumb down some, 'cause most androids, even the positronic ones, they're not going to be nearly advanced as you. We don't want to stand out until I've picked up at least one hive engine and a porta-forge and some steel. Another thing - droids are property, since they're not considered intelligent. Almost all intelligent free-thinking AI's are still building size and control other robots by broadcast power. It's all different in the virtual world, of course, but I don't intend on jacking in longer than I have to to give some commands out." "I will limit communications and expressed opinions while in Cydonia." Godfrey says. Rolling hills give way to flatlands, then to cracked desert. The sky changes, blue to yellow to blue again, then finally clouds roll in and a squall drenches them for a few minutes until the sun breaks through again and the cracked, parched ground sucks away the rain as if it had never been. Faster, a gallop now... a slope, downward, pink grass cropping up here and there... the grass stays and they plunge into a mist, now a pink meadow like cotton candy... the mist gone, a bright flash far away to their right, armies tiny with distance rushing into a holocaust... buildings then, a city in the distance, getting closer... the sky turns slate gray, then black with stars... the ground desert again, pink to red, the red of iron oxide and ancient age... more buildings now, a city all around them... the sky filled with slate grey clouds and hundreds, no thousands of flying vehicles far above... a deeper slope now, down into another mist, this one of smoke and fumes that cover the squalor and decrepitude of an abandoned lower city... Draw rein. Godfrey's own reining of his horse is nowhere near as smooth, but it gets the job done. "We need to let the horses go and grab the equipment," Martin says, already dismounting. "Let them run out and away from the carbon fog, or they'll die. We'll find a car a few streets over that we can boost." "Acknowledged." Godfrey says, dismounting. His horse does not seem inclined to try the lower city and neither does Martin. It takes little coercion to have them run back out into the red desert. "Did you wish me to run a full air analysis in the upper city?" Godfrey asks. "Preliminary data suggests a number of trace elements and compounds that may be detrimental to health for long term exposure." My presumption it is due to diffusion of higher and more immediately fatal concentrations from the lower city." Martin grins. "No need," he says. "I know what it is. See, this Mars doesn't have a breathable atmosphere. Down deep, there's veins of ice that are chemically bound in a high-energy matrix with silicon and carbon and chlorine. It's called Silicox, it's unique. It was formed with the planet, so it's not renewable. They mine it and break it apart with fission, which gives you water and nuclear energy in a remarkably inefficient manner, If you have water, hey, presto, you've got oxygen. But the byproducts are toxic, so over decades most of the lower city has become uninhabitable and unbreathable with chlorine and carbon fog, except for the 'droids. The rich live up top where the oxygen content is highest. Your social status determines where you live below that. But, then, most of the people live like gods in their own virtual universe in Marsnet. The elite keep Marsnet free and easy to get so everybody's happy and controlled." "Acknowledged. Preliminary analysis shows amounts of Carbon Tetrachloride, silicon tetrachloride, organochlorides, and other byproducts requiring the declined in depth analysis to determine." Godfrey says. The horses continue to flee the city, safely avoiding the foul air Martin and Godfrey are debating. "Am I capable of entering this virtual universe, Martin?" Godfrey asks. "Internal analysis of my gears and workings make it unclear if it is possible." Martin actually stops on that one. "I... don't know, Godfrey," he says. "I don't see why not. You've already demonstrated that you can notice data that isn't empirical data. You have the plug-ins for it, but I think they're in your arms, not a cranial one like I've got. I can jack you in when I do mine- here we are." Around a misty corner they come upon a red car that looks all the world like a futuristic Tucker Torpedo, but with pods where the wheels should be. "The latest in hovercraft technology. And look, the owner dropped his keys right here under my foot." "Hovercraft vehicle." Godfrey says, his eyes looking over the vehicle. "Basic hovercraft modified by its own owner. Storage capacity has been reduced to provide flexibility in packages for hovercraft rally racing." Godfrey walks around to the far side of the crimson colored vehicle. "The unit appears to be at full charge." Godfrey waits for Martin to get in before he does so as well, putting all of their gear in the back seat. In contrast to its visual counterpart, the engine of the hovercraft quietly purrs. "Analysis of my equipment shows I do have the equipment to port in, Martin." Godfrey says. "I would like to try." "All right," Martin says. "We're heading to one of my labs, we can try there. No one should miss the car for days yet, and we'll be long gone by then. But... we need to talk about security. Mine is built in. I should probably check you over to find out what kind of a firewall you have." "I do not know" Godfrey says "Information on that part of my schematics has not been self-actualized." He pauses for a minute or so, time enough for Martin to get the hovercraft running and into the city. Godfrey starts craning his neck around to take in the city. "I compute a ninety percent probability you withheld conscious knowledge of my security protocols from me in order to prevent them being easily leaked or acquired by bad actors." Above them, a pair of hovercraft give chase with each other in a somewhat illegal but highly popular form of "tag". "Well, we'll find them out," Martin replies, keeping an eye on his driver's side rear-view mirror globe. Then, having the paranoia of which all others are but shadows, he turns a corner and tries to erase the chasing cars from reality. The chasing cars are a bit 'sticky' in New Cydonia, as if having a bit of reality to them. They appear again two blocks after the first turn and erasure from reality, chasing each other with the same tactics and style as before. It takes a bit more work from Martin, and a couple of more turns of corner to get rid of them, but after a couple of straight thoroughfares through without a sign of the pair, Martin is confident they've finally been removed from the local reality. Martin's lab (or the one he is going to, anyway) can thus then be easily reached without further difficulty, or incident. "Martin, it is possible that the presence of someone with a Pattern Imprint in nearby shadow is making changes to the local set of shadows difficult." Godfrey hypothesizes as the lab is reached. "Probability as yet unknown. Hypothesis suggests a strong imprint, or multiple imprints, distorting local shadows including Cydonia." Martin, suprisingly, frowns at this. "I hope they're not too close. See, nobody knows about this place. Well, you know, but I'm showing you. And Dad knows, in case he needs to bail me out after a rough weekend. And Benedict, yah, he knows 'cause I showed him my rifle. Well, come on, he probably knows because he's Benedict. But that should be it, and I wouldn't want this place casually discovered." "It is possible the local shadow cosmography is reflecting more distant real beings." Godfrey says after a few moments of gear-whirring. "Further analysis would be necessary to determine accurate and useful probabilities of same." "Shall I determine a list of possible alternative causes if nearby presence of real beings is a low probability event due to the hidden nature of Cydonia?" Godfrey asks. "Actually, yeah," Martin says. "We're almost to a landing, we have a few minutes. Tell me what other things might be going on." "Yes, Martin. Processing." Godfrey responds. The next minute is a sound of whirring of gears. The flight is uninterrupted by anything unusual. Cydonia appears to be no longer "sticky" and resistant to change. "Hypotheses other than the presence of nearby real beings." Godfrey says, breaking his silence. "Construction or forging of a Black Road at medium to medium-long shadow distance." "Large scale manipulation of a single or group of shadows. The effects would be potentially felt over distances based on a logarithmic function of the reality level of the shadow or shadows manipulated." "Creation or manifestation of Omphalian Door at medium shadow distance." "Creation or change in Node of reality or trans-shadow power. The effects would be potentially felt over distances based on a exponential function of the strength of the Node of reality or trans-shadow power." Martin glides the car in for a near-perfect landing at the penthouse floor of an average-looking building. "Some of those answers, including the first one, reinforce the need to, well, reinforce this Shadow. Hide it better, or set up some kind of barrier. I haven't had the time to do it, but I'm going to have to make the time." He presses a button, and the car doors pop open. "This is one of my apartments, we can do some of what we need to do from here." Godfrey emerges from the vehicle and with a whirr of gears, makes a short circuit of the landing pad, taking in the view of the city visible from it. "A lack of shadow barriers would give credence to the scenarios I outlined." he agrees. "The construction of esoteric power-based wards or the installation of defined access points would reduce the probability of similar events occurring again to single digit percentages per annum" "Hiding the shadow would reduce the probability of discovery" Godfrey continues. "However, it would be unlikely to reduce the probability of the other possible events I outlined, since they are independent of knowledge of the existence of Cydonia." "I appear to have been programmed to have been educated with a high degree of shadow theory" he adds, reflectively. "I would be disappointed if you didn't," Martin says. "What you might not know is that hiding the place or restricting access, that takes time. Lots of time. Time we don't have right now. For all the centuries that we live, for all the power we have over time and space, we never have enough time of our own. Not if we care about what's happening around us." "Hypothesis." Godfrey says with a whirr. "In a post-scarcity economy, or with a set of beings or organization where the scarcity of necessities and items are restricted only as a function of time and effort, quanta of time are the ultimate and fundamental currency." "Shall we begin your work and reduce excess waste of time?" Godfrey suggests. "Sure. Come in and have a seat," Martin says, when he does something at the wall of the penthouse and a door slides open. "See that wireless plug on the coffee table? You'll want to plug that into your primary data input socket. Wherever it is. I can already tell the system is up from my own processor. Once you're plugged in, I'll boot us up into the loading program and we'll enter CydoniaNet from there." Godfrey takes an ambling route to the coffee table, taking in the apartment, head swiveling around to take everything in again. The whirr of gears is the only sound Godfrey emits as he stands at attention by the side of the coffee table and makes the connection. The sound of gears and whirring sounds increases over the next few seconds. Within that time, the system starts sending Martin messages about the "device" seeking to be plugged into the system. A few moments later, the system amends its previous message and announces that the "Secondary sentient system" has achieved full connectivity. "The experience of connection to your system is strange." Godfrey says. "It appears not to know if I am a device or a sentient AI." Martin can see that Godfrey has the same rights as he does at this point, as far as the system is concerned. "It's probably never connected to clockwork before," Martin says. "I've never built it that way before, I know. But things evolve after I leave, and I never know how much things have changed once I return." Tentatively, he creates a virtual living room, down to the same furniture and coffee table, in his Virtual Loading Room; the only glaring difference is that there's infinite white emptiness around his constructs. Then, he loads their digital selves into it. The seamless of the transition for Martin is a testament to his ability in the digital realm. Godfrey is far less agile with the transition, and there is a dangerously high sound of gears spinning and benzels working. but that settles down after a minute or so, and Godfrey starts moving around the simple virtual loading room. Godfrey patrols the perimeter of the living room, looking out onto the white space with a quiet stare as if contemplating something holy or spirtual. "It extends forever, but it is only a simulation of infinity, a compacted abstraction that would only unpack were I to desire to stride into it." Godfrey says. He turns around in a slow circle. "Questions of the reality of shadow itself being something on the order of a cosmic projection of a higher reality, as this is a projection of your living room in Cydonia." Godfrey says with a spin of the gears. "How do we proceed into CydoniaNet?" "You hold the same keys I do," Martin says. "The door is for you to find. And make. Pick a direction, branch out, create your own reality. And when you find the access point, you'll have to fashion a door to go through. I'll give you a hint and tell you that it's close. You should only have to move your DSI - your Digital Self Image - only about the distance of the apartment to find it. Go ahead, I'm really interested in seeing what you create out of your own imagination, considering that you're you." "A test" Godfrey says. "You wish to assess my ability to make the connection both on a cognitive and on a systems level." the sound of whirring gears. "I understand." He takes another circuit of the apartment area in a slow pace. He completes this circuit and starts another one, but veers off before he has quite gone 1/12(pi) more radians. He walks to the edge of the apartment, where the whiteness of the surrounding reality stretches to forever. Godfrey extends his hand. And on the edge of the apartment, on the boundary between apartment and white space is a shiny brass and polished gunmetal seamed ellipse about 8 feet wide at the minor axis (the width) and 12 feet tall at the major axis (its height) The door, for that is what it clearly is, dilates, revealing a panorama of a gigantic gear, the near edge a step away, and the far edge difficult to tell, but defined by a gear that looms upward, meshing with this gear orthogonally. Martin cannot see any more through the narrow perspective of the door (and Godfrey partially within it), but an interconnected set of gears as terrain appears to be what he has created. He swivels his head, regards Martin, turns his head and steps through. Martin doesn't move; but suddenly he's -there-, standing next to Godfrey. He looks up and around. "Should've known," he says. "Not bad, not bad. So. You made the access gate, then you can see the program that you wrote. How did it go? Did you think of something and concentrate on writing the code, or did you imagine your surroundings and the code followed naturally from that?" The gears extend in all directions, the entire area suffused by some sort of background light that comes from nowhere but shines everywhere in a diffused manner, like a cloudy day that is not too dark. The gears themselves range in size from the size of the apartment to ones that appear to be miles across or tall. Access nodes, information stations, buildings appear to be on the gears. The gear Martin and Godfrey are standing on is roughly a mile across, if Martin judges it correctly. "Visualization came first for me, Martin." Godfrey replies. "I visualized the landscape that we have seen. I am not certain that my inspiration was more than internal musings on my nature, form and technology. The code to do so was relatively easy to visualize and compile. I did not know I knew the subroutines, classes and other aspects of the code necessary." "The code lurks beyond the veil of the Mechanus world." Godfrey says. "I can see how to alter the world by altering the code I have written." "Would other users appear within my paradigm, or would we travel beyond the code I have written to encounter them?" "It depends, really. You have your world out there, and you extend your imagination and write your program and expand however you want until you reach the thing you want. Or you summon a terminal, in whatever shape or form you imagine, and put a query out there. The system or another user could help you or sell you something, or they could decide to appear to you in your code, or you'd have to cross over to theirs. If they let you. It's generally a user-driven free system. Then you have intelligent programs moving within it, and sometimes through your world, and there are unique individuals, like myself, that have the power to go anywhere." Godfrey considers Martin's words for a minute or two, walking across the gigantic gear, looking up and around at the other gears, all harmoniously and flawlessly interconnecting and keeping the entire world spinning and moving along. "I begin to see the parallels between this and my knowledge of shadow and Pattern theory." Godfrey says. "I have created a shadow, one that might explore, change or fill as my desire. If one of the other users enters my code here, they would enter my shadow, or pass through it, or seek to engage me as its creator or master. You, as a Pattern Initiate, have the ability to travel through all of the worlds created." "You could alter my code, could you not, as well?" Godfrey asks Martin."Or alter the code of another user? Change this world, or change any other, to a paradigm of your own choosing?" Martin taps the back of his head, where the plug from reality is still visible. "Yes. Stronger than anyone else. This is just between you and me, but this VR interface is more than it seems. After my encounter with Buh... Brand, I ramped up its abilities. Not only is it another layer of protection against intrusion of my psyche, it's a powerful general hacking/coding/erasing tool. It's like a Jewel of Judgement for virtual environments. I have yet to have it fail, though I haven't tried it everywhere yet." "Brand" Godfrey says suddenly. His eyes whirr. "I have discovered that I have protocols in place to deal with situations where there is a 5% or greater probability of him being present." "Martin" he continues. "With correct application of advanced Pattern use and some recoding of the virtual environmental parameters, this construct would be usable outside of locales where virtual environments would fit the local paradigm. Such use would allow for the alteration and editing of shadow in a direct fashion. He stops. "Revelation of my proposal code in this medium, however secure, may not be wise." Martin stops at that one. "Wait a minute. You think you can create this kind of virtual environment in another shadow, even one that doesn't support this kind of virtual reality? Holy crap, Godfrey, even Ghost can't do that. He has to riffle through thousands of shadows to find the one he wants, not alter one with unique code." "A moment." Godfrey says, his gears whirring. After about five seconds of this, the sound dies away. "The information you have provided me on Ghostwheel is only high-level data." Godfrey says. "However, it appears that his paradigm and operating system is more based on Trump as its major power source. Trump is useful in rapidly choosing from a sheaf of shadows." "Changing an individual shadow is the province of a Pattern-based approach, harnessing the power and ability of multiple imprints that you have and you have engendered into my makeup to generate the requisite code. The greater the intrinsic reality of a shadow, the more difficult and the slower the v-r code will run, but it will run unless there are active forces opposing it." Godfrey says. "It only underlines the differences I would have expected between you and Ghostwheel," Martin says. "Merlin and I have usually argued the opposite sides of the same coin. Ghost would riffle through shadows externally until he found the one he wants. You would change the shadow you're in until it matches how you want it. Someday, Merle and I will sit down and have that argument again. But for now, how about ordering us a pizza and some fabricated steel beams? I'll give you the specs." "Fabrication and delivery of enough steel beams to construct the ship will take time even given the capacity of New Cydonia's manufacturing base." Godfrey computes. "We will be responsible for 31% of the domestic output of steel and assembly materials during the construction phase of the vessel." "Our responsibility for the domestic output of pizza will be some few percentage points lower." "I think that was an attempt at humor." Godfrey says, reflectively. In short order, though, a message that shows up in the paradigm as a unicycle-riding humanoid assemblage of gears announces that the pizza has arrived. "Hey, not bad," Martin says. "I'll dish me out some food. Watch carefully - you'll see my avatar change appearance as I kick myself out of the program and leave a presence in here." A moment passes, then another. "Hmm, maybe I'm out of practice. That port we came in, is that the only out you built?" "Yes" Godfrey says after a moment's thought. "I only provided the single port of entry in or out of the virtual space, save for a radical de-rezzing out of virtual reality. That is not recommended save in extremis, because I compute a 2.3% probability that a radical de-rezzing procedure to leave the virtual reality as currently constituted would lead to ensuing damage if not destruction of the integrity of the shadow." "Shall I change the parameters?" Godfrey adds. "No, that's okay," Martin says. His form gets more indistinct, more ghostly. "See? There we are. Now I'm physically in the apartment getting pizza, and in here talking to you at the same time. It's quite a trick, and very difficult to do. I should mention that de-rezzing wouldn't just affect the shadow." He taps his head. "Does bad, bad things to your psyche, as well. Normally if you're trapped in a virtual reality, you want to solve your way out of it, not pull the plug." "If you did not de-rezz, Martin, I do not understand the process you are using to achieve bilocality, in and out of the virtual world." There is a whirr of gears "Do you perceive both worlds on top of each in an overlay or as adjustable perceptions?" In the meantime, Martin can indeed obtain the delivered pizza. Once the delivery boy is paid, and Martin can actually try it, the pizza turns out to be as good as Martin remembers. "An overlay," Martin says. "This avatar is a function of a trojan virus I wrote into your VR construct as I was leaving. It uses point-oh-oh-one percent of the environment's resources, which can easily be overlooked in the efficiency loss of opening and maintaining a port to the outside. Plus, it's not very noticeable 'cause all it does is make a link between here and my interface and lets me use an avatar. It's a subtle, artistic piece of work, if I do say so myself. Once you see the link, you'll see how you can squash it if you wanted. Doing so won't affect me or my interface, either. I can observe, leave messages, talk with an avatar, all with this." "Working" Godfrey says. "Trojan detected. Your disguising of it is extremely effective, Martin." he says. "It would have taken months of analysis to detect the virus without warning. "Attempting to determine my ability to remove the virus and sever link" Godfrey says. Five and a half seconds pass. And, then, Martin loses connection with his avatar, dropping him to the base state, with himself, his pizza and the immobile Godfrey. For lack of a better word, he stands glassy-eyed there for a minute or so. And then he starts moving, with a jolt. His head turns and the eyes focus on Martin. "I terminated the constructed virtual reality." Godfrey explains. "Reconstruction of it should incorporate the features to which you have introduced me." "Wow," Martin says. "That took longer than I expected. Then again, I assume you explored everything from all angles, and so on. Let's figure out where we're going to find our percentage of steel for the construct." A beat. "Oh, and the joke, that was funny. It's just your bad luck that Dad and I are so jaded." "I ran through the situation in triplicate." Godfrey explains. "I employed a variation on Newton's Method to come to a first approximation of the best algorithm to do so. I estimate I can improve the algorithm further by further experimentation, however the curve asymptotically toward a theoretical optimum solution." "Did we wish to visit the foundries directly, or contact their virtual agents?" Godfrey asks. "There's a lot to be said for being on-site to handle problems, but it saves a lot of time to do this all virtually," Martin says. "Keeps our purloined car off the streets, too. Make your construct again, use the 'miscellaneous' bank account to pay off everyone that needs paid off, and I'll jump in if you have any problems." "Yes, Martin" Godfrey says. A half hour later, with just one intervention necessary on Martin's part, the transaction is ready to be done. Godfrey is flawless through most of it, re-constructing the virtual reality, entering it, broaching four possible partners, and making deals with three to get the requisite amount of steel. The last bit is where Godfrey does ask Martin for help in analyzing the competing contracts offered up by the four firms in question. While Harper Incorporated ostensibly offers a competitive bid as compared to the other three firms in the mix, something about their operation, beyond the numbers and statistics, doesn't feel or sound right to Martin. Thusly, Godfrey completes negotiations with the other three. As such, the three foundries, with some economic incentive, appear poised to be able to provide 102% of the steel requirement for the construction of Martin's project. As Martin looks over the paid and signed contracts, Godfrey comes up with an estimate that the three firms employment means that 44% of the steel production of Cydonia is going to be tied up in Martin's project, the single largest buyer of said material. "And you should already know what that means," Martin says. "We're going to be drawing a lot of attention with our little project, and we're stuck here until it's ready. In the shadow, I mean. And we need to figure out logistics, as in, how we're going to get all these fabricated steel shapes out of Cydonia. Fortunately, I have that covered. Well done, and welcome to Phase Two." "Thank you, Martin" Godfrey says. "Changing the speed of the shadow's timeflow should allow for the production of the metal on a suitable time scale." He pauses a moment, letting the gears whir in thought. "I thought that assembly was going to occur here in Cydonia. Where or in what type of shadow are we going to perform the construction once fabrication is complete? The most cost efficient in terms of time and energy would be a transport train from Cydonia, given the lack of water travel in the shadow." "I thought we wouldn't be doing the final assembly until we reached near Benedict's shadow," Martin says. "I figured it would be to unwieldy to move once it was all put together, even when I get my friends in to help. The train is a good idea, but we'll have to meet the troops at the border of Cydonia - no one in their right mind would let them ride a train. But first, we need to meet them. And that means a car ride out to the Rusty Badlands." "Phase Two of the project." Godfrey guesses. "Recruitment of the armed forces to man the airship" A very brief pause, likely only a vocal one rather than a data processing one. "Will you require a sealed vehicle to make the journey from Cydonia instead of our hovercraft, Martin? Or breathing equipment? Oxygen levels in the badlands may not be as high as even in the lesser portions of the city. I do not have hard data on atmospheric conditions outside the city, however." "Breathing equipment, for me," Martin says. "Yes. There's some in the apartment. Oxygen tanks come standard on all vehicles here, but that's a given. Once we've made contact, then you can test your access from a remote login and arrange for the troops to meet the train at a point close to the borders of the shadow." "Yes, Martin" Godfrey says. He walks around the apartment, quickly finding a closet that contains a portable air tank and apparatus. There is also, perhaps more useful in the lower reaches of Cydonia rather than the Badlands, a positive pressure filter mask. The tank is, as Martin expects full and the equipment in new condition. Godfrey retrieves both sets of equipment for loading onto the hovercraft without prompting. "Is there anything I should know, Martin, about these troops, before we meet them?" Godfrey asks, making ready the hovercraft for departure. Martin smiles. "Now, that would ruin the surprise, wouldn't it?" he asks. "I'm really wondering what your reaction is going to be. If I have any advice for you, it would be not to make them mad." Godfrey spins his gears. "Understood, Martin. You wish to test my reactions to the unexpected." Martin's creation pauses a moment, silently running as he looks over the hovercraft one last time. He then looks up at Martin. "I believe that all preparations are in readiness. The hovercraft is in acceptable condition for the journey. It and myself are now ready to depart." "Excellent," Martin says. "You're proving to be very capable at this assistant thing, you know. Let's go take a drive." It's a long, long drive out of the city, mostly because Martin avoids as much traffic as possible on their way out. It takes about a half hour to get to the outskirts of the city, and another hour before Martin dons the mask and starts the oxygen supply. Not long after that, he slows down the car and starts looking down over the side. Godfrey keeps a running analysis of the atmospheric conditions, announcing it at regular intervals. "Is this the former site of a Cydonian city, Martin?" "Yeah," Martin says. "Well, the city moved to follow natural resources. The older parts of the cities were just left to slowly oxidize. You can imagine how long it takes, considering how little oxygen there is out here." "Oxidation in a mostly reducing atmosphere like the environment present takes place on time scales measured in kiloyears." Godfrey calculates. Below them, the landscape is full of abandoned factories and rusty metal smokestacks. The air is thinner, and full of the taste of metal. Martin doesn't seem to have any trouble keeping the car in the air, though. "Look for big metal hives. like dirt daubers," he says. "They'll be eating into the stacks or the buildings, so it may be hard to see them in this mess." "Daubers" Godfrey says. "Mud Daubers. Mud-nesting wasps." he says. He stands up slightly and looks around. Finding them in the rubble is fruitless work for a good quarter hour, and then a stroke of luck, or perhaps subconscious Pattern effort. One of the smokestacks of a factory a quarter of a mile away suddenly topples over, the sound echoing eerily through the low atmosphere. "I hypothesize the metal insects we are searching for are the proximate cause of the collapse of the smokestack." Godfrey says. "And there we are. You may want to let me do the talking. They're usually... twitchy," Martin says. "As in, very hot-tempered and aggressive. But they should know me and my smell. Now, then, if they've developed some kind of religion over the centuries where they're supposed to roast their gods, or something, then we have a problem." "Or if they seek to disassemble me in some sort of tribute to you." Godfrey says. "I would consider that to be a suboptimal outcome. It would be also suboptimal to lose our vehicle to similar actions." "I will therefore let you lead and say nothing." Godfrey adds. "Are we walking the 400 meters to their location?" "Yeah, Martin says. "That's probably the least threatening option on our part. And when we walk. stay a foot or two away from me so they don't confuse us with a spider at distance. They don't like spiders much." He disassembles the face mask and converts it to a shoulder oxygen tank. "You ready?" "Yes, Martin" Godfrey says. "Let us proceed without delay" As requested, Godfrey gives Martin exactly three feet lead on him for the walk over to the probable site of the Wasps at work. Said walk to the fallen smokestack fortunately goes without incident, Martin and Godfrey's steps crunching on the broken rubble and ground. There is a low sound of industrious chittering as Martin and Godfrey near the site. It is when they get to about a hundred feet away that there is a sign of reaction. That first reaction is a group of perimeter watching Wasps, some of the smaller varieties, barely larger than the usual size for a Wasp. Most of them chitter excitedly, hovering around a rusted door that has been scavenged of untainted metal, while one of them flies off in the direction of the fallen smokestack at high speed. The remaining group of them together manage to harmonize out a Thari word. "Creator?" " 'Ello!" Martin waves. "Did you miss me? Much? Any? I've been away for a while, but now I'm back in town." He seems completely oblivious to how that sounds. "You guys look... busy." "You have been not present for five hundred sixty years, 6 months, 9 days and 2.33 hours." the group manages to say, slowly and carefully. Their speech improves moment by moment. "We have undergone evolution and replication in accordance with your previous guidelines, Creator. We are in the process of adapting and converting local materials in accordance with Doctrine as laid down by you. Hive engine creation continues on schedule." "Have you brought *it* for disassembly?" the group of them add. In response, Godfrey's gears audibly whirr in surprise, and perhaps, if a construct can be said to have it, fear. "Godfrey is my creation, as you are," Martin says quickly. "He is sacrosanct. Let him pass where he wills, with my full countenance." He hesitates. "I need you. The best and the brightest of you. At least two or three hive engines and their full hives, to come with me and fight evil in a distant land." "Godfrey is the work of the Creator." the voice of the wasps tremble and tremor. "He shall not be disassembled." Godfrey seems visibly relieved by this sentiment. "Evil must be disassembled!" the Wasps then say. "We will follow the Creator and disassemble the works of Evil and colonize its lands in the name of the Creator and in accordance with Doctrine." In the direction of the fallen smokestack, a swarm of the Wasps is forming, a much larger swarm. The swarm is growing in the direction of where Martin and Godfrey are conversing with this small group of the Wasps of Cydonia. The hum of the sound of this forming swarm is like a low-frequency resonance that is just on the borders of Martin's hearing. "The messenger has told of your arrival, and they have come to greet the Creator" the Wasps say, with, despite their machine nature, can be only be interpreted as great joy. "Just relax," Martin says quietly to Godfrey, then chuckles at the thought of having to do that. "So. My friends here, they're what some people call 'cyperpunk'. I genetically modified them in the lab one day, gave them size and strength and intelligence, and the drive to find the most effective technology in their immediate area and incorporate it. Imagine my suprise when they incorporated it within themselves. And then left the lab. After that, I decided it was improbable that Cydonians would ever find out I was responsible. They don't like the property damage." "Cydonia." The Wasps chant. "Cydonia, the City of the Creator! The Timeless City set in amber! The City of God! All flights, and all roads lead to Cydonia! We follow the path of the city! We modify ourselves to better create the Hives and Hive Engines and serve the Creator." "Martin" Godfrey says "You were not wrong in your characterization in them considering you a deity." The large wasp swarm closes in on Godfrey and Martin, lead elements landing, showing that the Wasps have a variety of sizes, from slightly smaller elements of the swarm talking to Martin now, to Wasps 2 and a half to three feet tall. The number of Wasps converging and landing and approaching Martin is probably in the thousands, given the large amount of small Wasps. That low-frequency humming has gotten much much louder, and reminds Martin of prayers to Lir and the Water Dragon Danaa'd back in Rebma. "Evil must be disassembled!" the local group of Wasps repeat, the low frequency hum making it difficult to hear them "We will follow the Creator and disassemble the works of Evil and colonize its lands in the name of the Creator and in accordance with Doctrine." Like a game of telephone, this cry is being picked up by the new arrivals, repeated, and passed on. "Wonder what Benedict will do after it's over," Martin says aside to Godfrey. "The probability that he will ask you to deal with the Wasps is high, Martin" Godfrey replies. [Martin] speaks up. "Spread the word, then, my... children. Find the brightest, the strongest, the best of you. Bring the three of the best hives and their engines. I will return three days hence, with trucks and metal. Much metal, but it is holy and to be used for the final battle. We will leave then, and take the war to the evil ones." "Only three" The sound from the wasps is at first disappointed, underwhelming. As the words are repeated and spread through the wasps, the disappointment slowly turns and changes to pride. "We will contest for the best hives. Only the best three hives will be permitted to accompany the Creator. All the hives will compete for the honor to be permitted to accompany the Creator in accordance with Doctrine. Evil will be disassembled. Evil will be disassembled. We will compete for the right to dissemble evil." A few of the larger Wasps, armed with some sort of electroshock guns, fire them in the air. The environment around Martin and Godfrey has taken on the culture and feel of a rowdy motorcycle gang rally, except with mechanical intelligent insects. "Disassemble Evil. We will compete for the right to Disassemble Evil at the behest of the Creator!" Martin nods. "So be it, then, I shall return in three days, with trucks and equipment and room for three hive engines. Be here to move them and be ready to travel. I will take you through worlds strange and wondrous to the Great Battle." The low frequency humming quickly competes with the shouts of acclimation and agreement by the Wasps. In between those, Martin can pick bits and pieces of various Wasps trash-talking other Hives, declaiming that Hive Uraxis or Hive Petenor will be one of the Hives chosen by the Creator. This buzz of action and the promise that only the best will be chosen has taken on more importance than the presence of the Creator himself, and the swarm starts dispersing, presumably back to their individual hives. The prayer like humming lowers in volume, but spreads out over a wider area, a permanent background hum. "I can see why you do not wish them to wander through Cydonia, Martin." Godfrey says. "They would attempt to disassemble it. I cannot calculate the probability of the success of them doing so at this time due to a lack of data as to their full capabilities and numbers." "Well, you're smarter than they are," Martin says. "That's partly why I'm going to name you a commander under me. They're clever, but not brilliant. But there's millions of them. They're everywhere. If there wasn't a Rust Belt of old infrastructure to keep them busy, they'd be a real worry for the rest of the world. Then again, I designed their growth rate to match available tech, so they'll slow down when purloined tech becomes harder to come by. If they haven't learned to leave the planet and strike out for themselves by then, that is." "I forecast four probabilities for their evolution once purloined tech and materials become rarer, based on the data already available." Godfrey says. "I forecast four probabilities for their evolution once purloined tech and materials become rarer, based on the data already available." Godfrey says. "Forecast one is that they devote their resources to hibernation, awaiting a technological and material renaissance." "Forecast two is that they cannibalize themselves, ending in the ultimate extinction of the species." "Forecast three is that they develop interplanetary and interstellar travel, seeking technology and materials within this shadow." "Forecast four is that they develop trans-shadow capability, and seek technology and materials in nearby shadows." "Analysis of their function in a commanding role would allow me to select the correct forecast, and to a confidence of 90%" Godfrey adds. "It is also possible a schism would allow multiple events to come to fruition." "Ooo, a schism. Hadn't thought of that. They're much more religious than when they got out. Yah, that seems to be where the smart money should go. I'll look forward to seeing how it turns out," Martin says. "I also wonder what we're going to do with ourselves for three days while we wait on the steel production and the Great Wasp Tournament results." "There is a possibility that the schism will lead to a Reformation, or even a Gnostic offshoot that will reject you as Creator, Martin." Godfrey says. "I cannot compute the probability of that occurring." His gears whirr for a moment. "Did you program their loyalty to you at the assembly code level?" "Damn right I did," Martin says. "Then again, they've come up with a bunch of stuff on their own, so it may not have done me any good." "In regards to occupying our time for three days for the production to occur, numerous possibilities occur to me. More practice with virtual reality would be a possibility. Coordinating efforts with family members beyond Kieran may also be indicated." "We can do both. Probably together. I'll show you a trick that I've seen Ghost do, that is, create a Trump effect within a designed environment. In our case it would be a virtual one. interfacing with my PDA. Let's head back to the apartments." "Yes, Martin" Godfrey says. The long journey back to Cydonia is without much incident, and as the vehicle approaches the more habitable regions of the mined planet, the atmosphere reaching breathable composition, pressure and density, Martin can shed the breathing apparatus. At the apartments, updates show that the order for steel is proceeding apace, and Martin's body suggest that breaking for eating, and sleeping, may be indicated before a new day and Martin's lessons in virtual trump creation. "Whom shall we contact?" Godfrey asks, food and rest now behind them both. "Either Kiernan or Benedict. Either one of them should be checked up on," Martin says. "I'd choose Benedict first, since I don't know what kind of time dilation we've got going on with Kiernan." "The relative time dilation is unknown." Godfrey agrees. "And Kieran or his family may have have it adjusted since our departure." Godfrey thinks for a moment. "I admit to curiosity to meeting Prince General Benedict, given his role in your upbringing and life, Martin." "What would be the best environment in which to bring and meet his trump avatar?" Godfrey asks. "Benedict is supremely adaptable," Martin says. "Go ahead and do the thing you're comfortable with, I assume the cog and sprocket motif. When you get it together, I'll feed in the Trump and you can see how it works. Maybe." "I will have a different environment than the last one." Godfrey says after a moment's thought and a whirr of gears. "To ensure my practice with the creation of such environments." When Martin does enter into the Virtual Loading Room that Godfrey creates, the gigantic sprockets, cogs and gears are gone. Instead, its halls of polished metals, in colors ranging from silvery to coppery. Within the halls, here and there, are pieces of abstract art, where the cog, gear and clockwork motif is carried into. The center room has a table and chairs, as if preparing to receive guests. "I thought this would be more hospitable." Godfrey explains. "Sure," Martin says. "Anything to make him more comfortable, that's a good thing. He won't be too discombobulated by the process anyway, probably will figure it out as soon as it happens, but this looks good. If he takes the call, you understand. He could always block it." "Yes, Martin" Godfrey replies. "However, given his age and experience, it is not likely he has learned some skills at Trump, at least for self protection? It would be tactically unwise for him to leave it as a blind spot in his personal defenses. Perhaps he has the ability to identify would-be callers? There are such abilities, are there not?" There is the sound of whirring gears, both from Godfrey, and in a bit of kinesthesia, one of the pieces of art starts to slowly spin on its stand as well. "My memory banks seems to suggest such." "I am ready to receive him." Godfrey adds. "There's my cue," Martin says, and grins. He's tapping away on his PDA, grumbling something about needing to reorganize all his Trumps, when he relaxes and holds out the device at arm's length. Godfrey can feel a new kind of data stream into his virtual construct, data that he probably couldn't duplicate on his own...or could he? It's hard to tell. Martin says, "Uncle Ben? Are you there? It's Martin. I wanted to give you an update from my end." There is a pause of a few moments as Martin concentrates on the trump contact. So focused, its difficult for Martin to get any more data on what Godfrey could or couldn't do with the stream of trump, whether he could manipulate it or create it. Not enough attention, and Godfrey does not appear to be trying to manipulate it. The General answers by stepping into existence in the virtual space. He looks up down and around, appraising Martin and Godfrey. "A virtual environment." he observes. "Relatively isolated and protected. Good, Martin." He takes a seat at the table. Martin will note that the VR trump image of Benedict is distinctly different than the current real version. His avatar has two arms. "Proceed." he says. ~That's interesting,~ Martin thinks to himself, and files it away. "Have you met Godfrey? He is my assistant, my creation, and the creator of this environment. He'll be my subordinate in this theater." "I was awaiting an introduction." Benedict says and then lets Martin continues. "Kieran and I have met and reasoned out a way to force open a door to the Omphalos, big enough I think to establish a invasion point. I've gathered technologically-savvy insectoid troops and will be moving towards you as soon as the steel constructs I want are fabricated. We'll be bringing in zeppelins and airborne troops, plus whatever Kieran and probably Gerard's kids bring up." Benedict nods, walks around Godfrey, appraising him. "Sir" Godfrey says respectfully with a whirr of gears. Benedict gives an approving nod. "Fully sentient, I take it. I see that the operation in Corwin's realm has led you down interesting technological paths, Martin." Benedict says, returning to Martin. "I have requested aid from most of the Family that can be trusted and is not already engaged in major operations." Benedict says. "I have requested forces from any and all who respond. I expected you to do so, Martin." there is a tone of warmth, for Benedict anyway, in his voice. And he is clearly pleased. "There are family members you may not be aware of that you should be made aware of, and collaborate as you have done with Kieran. Eric's son in particular" Benedict says. "As far as Gerard's children, Castor and Pollux will doubtless bring forces as well. Hadrian, as it so happens, is engaged with a problem Gerard is dealing with. My brother Osric, it seems, emulated Finndo for quite some time in not being as dead as Father claimed. The Omphalos struck a broken Pattern realm Osric founded, and used geologic focused magic to devastate them. Refugees from that, including Osric's descendant and heir, have arrived in Amber seeking sanctuary and aid." "This reinforces my goal to strike back and end the Omphalos ability to wage war, Martin." Benedict pauses a moment. "In a permanent and irrevocable fashion. Tell me more of what you and Kieran have discussed." "A Trump Gate," Martin says. "but a big one. One that incorporates four Trumps drawn into the metal supports, and a modulator built in to keep everything, well, modulated. Essentially a big arch, but one that you can march troops through. Kieran has the destination and the detail work in mind, and I chipped in with the infrastructure." "You will need a power supply for such a trump gate." Benedict says. He manifests a piece of paper and a pencil into the virtual environment and starts sketching. It doesn't look like what Martin and Kieran were thinking, but its an allied idea. Godfrey studies the drawing, looking over one shoulder. Benedict's drawing would not be considered art, but is rather the ruthless practicality of a man used to drawing maps and tactical diagrams on the fly. "The trump gate would work in theory, at least as far as my sister's lessons remain within me, but a trump to cover that distance would have a greater chance of success if you have an external power source tied into your modulator. That could be the minds of people, of course, but you would do better to consider something less biological. A source of shadow power. Something more stable than a broken Pattern, but along those lines." "You mentioned Gerard's children and Kieran." Benedict says. "What of his father and mother? Or are they intending to send him alone as a sort of Teind? And what others of the family have you spoken to since the invitations were sent? I already have Larissa on site." Martin launches into a list of everyone he's had contact with. "...so, then, everybody that I know who had an invite is actively working on a plan to come," he finishes. "The biggest detractor is time- I don't know if everyone will be ready all at once. I kind of doubt it, really. but we've set up a rendezvous and will come in from there." "Possibly not." Benedict says. "The advantage to inviting most of the family is that skills and roles overlap, if logistics on short notice are difficult. And invariably, for some, logistics will be difficult. However, this situation WILL be resolved." "Give Noys a call when we are done here." Benedict instructs. "My sources tell me that the world she and Lorius built is relatively close in terms of shadow to where you are. Her brother, too, may prove useful from the mechanical and arcane side of things. Although I suspect this technology may yet be behind his ken." "You should be aware." Benedict continues "I invited a number of members of the Courts as well. My descendants, to be precise. If they do come, or send proxies, they'll likely have to go through you to get to my shadow, so you should be aware of it." "Really?" Martin doesn't pause to address the absurdity of asking Benedict 'Really?'. "Wow. Well, you already know I know Dara and Merle." Benedict gives a nod of the head. "Whoever comes, we can all talk Family. Extended Family, that is. Anything else you need while I'm dragging a wagon train across Shadow?" "Nay, Martin. " Benedict says. "Coordinate with Kieran, coordinate with Noys and her brother, watch for Chaosian expeditionary forces, bring your own forces, be prepared for conflict." "I would recommend preceding your Command as you approach this shadow, so that the pickets put in place do not mistake your insectiles for hostile forces." Benedict says. "And alert me if major changes in status occur." He stands up, leaving the drawings of his conception of the Trump Gate on the table in a neat rectangle of papers. "Thanks, Uncle," Martin says. "I'll see you soon." "Goodbye,Martin." Benedict says. [Martin] ends the contact, copying the 'files' Benedict left into his PDA, then turning to virtual-Godfrey. "Keep the VR environment going... we can contact Noys or Lorius from here. I think I have both their Trumps, give me a moment to pull one of them up." "Did you wish me to alter it for their preferences in any way?" Godfrey asks. "I feel confident of being able to alter this on the flya nd make level 1 or level 2 changes without having to take it offline." "Only if you feel the need to practice. Otherwise, it's fine as-is." Godfrey does modify the ceiling of the environment with increasing facility and ease. The ceiling of the room is replaced by a glass dome with ribs of brass. Seen through the glass is the shimmering light of diffused light, as if the building were in shallow water. Schools of fish and other sea life swim back and forth in the view. Martin fiddles with his PDA a moment, then uploads another Trump into the virtual environment. "Hello hello, Noys, are you there? Tango-Alpha-Romeo-Delta-India-Sierra-other made up words. Martin here..." Noys accepts the contact, and bliinks in surprise as she steps into the virtual environment. She pirouettes around, studying the room, Godfrey and especially the ceiling, before turning and regarding Martin. "Hello, cousin." she says. "We're in some sort of invented mindspace here, are we?" She looks at Godfrey. "Greetings, Godfrey." "Princess" Godfrey says with a whirr of gears. Noys returns to regard Martin, leisurely walking toward him. "This is about Uncle Benedict's summons?" she asks. "Right on the money," Martin says. "He told me I should look you up, that you might be nearby to me, shadow-wise. I wanted to see what you were all up to, and whether we should get together." "In conjunction with Lorius, I am training my brother." Noys says. "There is much he does not know, but we're giving him a crash course on Amber, the Pattern, Shadow and his heritage. And learning what *he* can do. He has an odd partial, virtual Pattern imprint we're investigating the limits of, Martin." "Hold on, let me see if I can manage to split my attentions here..." Noys turns and gets a faraway look, as if she were taking a trump call within the trump virtual space. "With a 97% confidence, I deduce your cousin has at least some trump skill, Martin." Godfrey says. "Or else this would be nearly impossible to manage." “Not Lorius” she says to whom she is speaking. “Martin. Not terribly far away, if I’m any judge of shadow distances. He’s working on the Uncle Benedict project, too.” “I can see the Pattern filling you up, brother.” she says. “You were able to complete the design?” "Crash course, huh," Martin says, then looks toward Godfrey. "Sounds like he's walking the Pattern in his mind, something I should remember to do more often. Those lessons are advanced." "He only has a Partial imprint." Noys says. "But he's managed to do much with it when given the chance and training. A good amount of basic Shadowshifting, some probability manipulation, but not as much as you or I could manage. A Natural student though. She looks away for a moment and then returns her gaze. "He would be interested in meeting you. I suspect he's much of the reason Uncle Benedict had you contact me, more than my own talents." Noys says modestly. "Shall I bring him in?" "You bet," Martin says. "Better warn him, though." He pauses. "Come to think of it, if he's all charged up with Pattern, I'm not sure if it'll affect the virtual environment. I'll try you again if it doesn't work out." "Hold a moment, cousin. I will ask him to disperse the energies before joining us." Noys looks away again. As she returns her attentions, a second figure joins the contact... |
