***Earth, Tibet, Secure Gateway Facility***
***Everhart***
“Professor Everhart! Professor!”
At first, I tried to ignore my subordinate’s urgent nagging, but when he didn't stop I had to curse and abort the molecular editing process.
The DNA recoder powered down with a low whine while discharging the capacitors. At the same time, the device sterilized the test material, wasting at least an hour of my work.
“Haven’t I told you plebeians often enough not to disturb me when I am working with this equipment!? The process is too delicate to be interrupted! We don’t want the prime minister of the united nations to turn into a bug when he gets his next DNA update, do we?”
“But Professor!” The assistant gestured helplessly at his equipment. “The Aerie testing colony has gone dark! I was about to download the latest results and all I got was an error message!”
“A what!?”
I quickly walked up to his station and pushed him aside. “Have you tried to re-establish the connection? Maybe the communication protocol crashed again.”
“Nothing works!” The man was somewhat desperate because an irreplaceable device had failed under his watch. “The last update we got says the program is shutting down!”
Sighing, I quickly went through the sub-menu and called up the raw communication logs.
“Someone logged in with administration rights and made changes to the system. What fool would be stupid enough to activate the U.I.? Maintenance mode off!? Who did this!? This is sabotage!”
I turned and glared at the assistant who raised his hands.
There was no way the mutants wouldn’t have been alerted to the system’s existence by now. This was threatening the entire project!
“It, it wasn’t me! Look! The timestamp says it happened at four in the morning,” he pleaded while directing my attention back to the screen. “There was nobody inside the laboratory at the time!”
“I see.” I scratched my bearded chin while I thought furiously of a solution. Losing our equipment on Tirnanog was a huge blow. Worse, having the test subjects know of our direct supervision... it would change their behaviour drastically. These weren’t your average lab rats.
It was highly unlikely for the board's members to sanction a mission to regain control over the system. Not that it mattered, now that the Aerie assuredly knew of the computer’s existence.
And our people were much too afraid of anything from Tirnanog making its way to our side of the gate. Everything had hinged on the test subjects’ unawareness of Earth’s surveillance system.
“Maybe we can find out from where they logged in?” the assistant suggested hopefully. “The logs must've recorded whether the changes were made from this facility or some other outside server.”
“At least you aren’t completely useless.” I called up the access logs, but the results weren’t very promising. “The last recorded login happened on a hardware level.”
I covered my mouth as I thought about the ramifications.
As much as I wished it to be otherwise, there was only one explanation. “The Aerie discovered the computer and switched it off. There is no other way to get hardware access than to interact with the system directly. Some of our staff fucking up, or a hacker accessing the system remotely, both cases would be recorded as some sort of off-site access.”
“But… that’s impossible,” the assistant said. “How could they have gotten the login information? How did they find out about the computer’s existence in the first place? According to our latest survey, they were entirely unaware of it.”
I glared at the idiot. He was underestimating the test subjects. Such thinking had cost us our facilities on Tirnanog a century ago when the so-called 'clans' rebelled!
“Hubris! Don’t underestimate the mutants. A scenario like this one is exactly what the administration was afraid of. We have to find a way to spin this situation without getting them spooked too much. Otherwise, they might shut down the program!”
“Why would they shut down the program?”
“Because this will prove their worst fears. A mutated population not under their direct control, comprised of highly capable individuals matching them in every way. Not to mention the natives' opposing ideologies. Tirnanog has always been a brewing kettle of potential rebellion, which is exactly why those in power shut down the colonisation efforts and stopped space exploration. At least until a way could be found to reliably control distant populations.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “Are they so afraid of the exiles?”
I couldn't help but explode in his face at his refusal to think for himself. How had such a sheep made it into my team?
“Of course! Almost all of the mutants are practically immortal because those damned starfish-eels are practically everywhere on Tirnanog. Fucking eels aren't just messing up our experimentation schedules! Let me tell you, having a population of potentially immortal humans sounds all well and nice, but only as long as you don't start thinking about the potential downsides! Overpopulation is only the first thing coming to mind! Potential immortality also allows people to learn a lot more than the average worker drone and that's something our leaders absolutely cannot allow. It would inevitably lead to most of the population gaining the necessary knowledge and skills to evaluate the leadership’s decisions. I won’t even start with the social impact because it would require several separate studies!”
I raised a questioning eyebrow. “And not to forget, our employers are politicians. If something threatens their power, then it’s easy to predict how they will react.”
Suddenly, the research station’s anti-virus program went nuts and popped several messages about blocked attempts at accessing the system.
Thankfully, it looked like the anti-virus was handling the situation just fine. In case of a major security breach, the network administrator would have already been alarmed.
I clicked my tongue. “And they might have a point with their fears. This doesn’t seem like something the natives could do on the fly. Someone is helping them.”
The assistant gulped. “O- orders, sir?”
My hand involuntarily went up to my temples as I thought furiously. “Activate our assets on Tirnanog and tell them to stop whatever is going on over there. If that’s even possible at this point. I will call for a board meeting and try to come up with a favourable story.”
***Tirnanog, Mount Aerie***
***Astra***
“I feel like a bloated leviathan,” I complained while I watched Magnus play around with the supercomputer. My body may be more powerful than a normal human's, but I also suffered from an exceptional pregnancy. Three at once was by no means an easy job.
So, at least a little complaining was in order.
In my defence, I wasn't a completely useless bum. While the others were concerned with the computer I had already identified several different ways to use the chat function. There were voice-chat, text-chat, as well as single-call and conference-call options.
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According to Magnus, the optical nanite interface had taken the place of smartphones in high society. Communication was one of its core functions. Sadly, the version we had gotten came without any additional functionality which would be expected of such devices.
The calendar was probably useful to people without enhanced minds, but to Magnus and me the function was redundant. The calculator function was also of limited use.
At least the timer and the clock held some value, but there were no deep secrets to find with these functionalities.
So for the time being, all I had to do was to peruse my personal data.
“Anything new?” Teresa asked while she watched Magnus's work over his shoulder.
He shook his head. “Nothing extraordinary. I've already shown you how to use the computer's administrative functions. Aside from that, the system might as well be useless to us.”
“I wouldn't call this treasure trove of information useless,” Hayne Ortega from the fifth strata commented while he oversaw several scribes who were simultaneously copying one of the educational journals Magnus had opened from his data stick. It listed the best ways to purify and process various elements at an industrial scale.
It was an essential step in rebuilding a technological infrastructure. These processes were built upon by another document explaining how to set up the following production processes step by step.
The fruits of Magnus's 'message in a bottle' to the clan had yet to be harvested. Real results would only be seen decades in the future, but already none of the elders could question the value of my partner’s gift.
Clan Aerie's libraries had been vast, a heritage from the original colonists. But the colonists had never intended to settle Tirnanog without support from Earth. Consequently, our people lacked several important key technologies to rebuild what was lost.
As I saw it, there was also a high possibility the planners back on Earth had never intended for the colonies to function independently.
“Tulkas's organisation assembled this library with the sole purpose of guiding a medieval society back to the industrial age while cutting as many corners as possible,” the elder gave reluctant praise, despite being a member of the anti-war faction.
“Well, there is one thing to address...” Magnus opened a program named StarOb. “The colony possessed an observatory at some point. The tech still works, but all it shows is a black screen without any error reports. I assume they placed it somewhere on the mountain's peak and the optics are now snowed over. Maybe we could clean it at some point? It might be a nice way to spy on the mountain's surroundings.”
Gwen Torres considered the screen. “I am sorry, but this will have to wait. I can think of several possible positions for a telescope, old installations and such. Sadly, this isn't a case of walking outside and dusting off some powder snow. The observatory would be covered beneath metres of snow and ice and I won't send out people without knowing exactly where to dig. The better solution is to wait for summer. The ice will melt on its own.”
Magnus shrugged. “I just wanted to mention it. It's the only external system connected to the computer which still works. One more snowmelt won't do it in if it has already weathered hundreds.”
It took another hour of discussing the computer’s functions with the scribes until everyone was comfortable with using the system. Thankfully, it was intuitive enough for laymen to learn quickly.
Eventually, there was nothing more for Magnus to contribute and we were left to watch while the scribes did their job. Meanwhile, the elders began to consider whether vacating the Hall of Law for another meeting place would be more economic.
“I think we are in a much better position now,” Teresa commented as we left the meeting. “It would be a real surprise if the anti-war faction hadn’t lost at least a few supporters.”
“So, should we call for a vote at the next meeting?” Magnus asked, sounding eager.
“Hmm.” Teresa hummed in contemplation while she shared a meaningful glance with Etan.
My Dad nodded. “I think it would be the advisable move. Which reminds me, we got a message from Gilbert Kline. He asked for the two of you.”
I frowned. “What for?”
“I can imagine it has something to do with your newly developed ability to manipulate creature cores,” Teresa suggested.
It was a reasonable assumption that I should have thought of myself.
So, Magnus and I changed our daily schedule to visit Gilbert Kline.
Even though the man was an elder, he seldom visited the gatherings and left his vote in the hands of his wife who was more politically inclined than the blacksmith. Gilbert only showed his face when his presence was necessary for major decisions.
We encountered Gilbert in his workshop where he was already waiting for us.
“Took you two long enough! What do you think?”
Instead of giving us a proper greeting, he directed our attention toward two sets of armour which were displayed on mannequins. One was a male and the other a female version of the same set.
They were a mixture of medieval plate armour and futuristic space suits without the portliness one might expect of the latter. They were made from black-coloured iobeetle shell with some intricate golden inlays signifying our clan and strata. Thankfully, the adornment wasn’t too overbearing and still allowed the armour to be adjusted with stealth paint.
A large skirt of interlacing plates protected the wearer’s backside, but I knew from similar designs that users of the filament weaving arts would be able to use the stiff skirt as a shield if necessary.
The same was true for the oversized tassets which protected the upper thighs. More than one hunter had expired not because of being hit in a vital spot, but because a main artery in the thigh had been cut. Such wounds often happened because people instinctively favoured the protection of their head and upper body, leaving the thigh wide open.
While not immediately fatal, an opened thigh artery could cause a person to bleed out in two to four minutes. Loss of consciousness would happen even earlier depending on the severity of the injury – which was the bigger problem in a combat situation.
The helmets and pauldrons weren't done yet and lay on a nearby workbench. The armour had a feel of a mixture between medieval Europe and oriental influences thanks to the oversized skirt and tassets. Meanwhile, the helmets looked like a Roman base had been turned into a full plate version with four eyeslits to take our nightstalker mutation into account.
It looked like Gilbert had been about to set the vision slits with several layered glasses and crystals when we showed up.
“They are beautiful!” Magnus complimented Gilbert’s work with a clap of his hands. “It has been just two weeks!? I expected it would take you more than a month!”
“Well, they aren’t completely done yet,” Gilbert admitted. “I’ve still to give some finishing touches. What I needed you for is to talk about this new ability of yours and whether we can account for it in your armour. Oh, and I wanted you to test out the electromagnetic system before I install it.”
Gilbert went to the male armour set and removed one of the vambraces. He offered it to Magnus. “Try it out.”
Magnus took the armour piece and drew back his sleeve before he snaked his filaments into the armour’s inner linings. The vambrace consisted of two interlocking pieces which relied on filaments to be held together. The whole armour was designed this way, allowing people with the filament mutation to shuffle the pieces around if necessary.
The downside to the system was that it would be useless for anyone else.
I could see at a glance that my father’s training had paid off well because Magnus had no trouble adjusting his weave to Gilbert’s work.
“What’s this system you are talking about?” I couldn’t help but ask. Gilbert had informed me of some minor changes he wanted to make to my armour, but I didn’t have the time to pay much attention and simply approved of his suggestions.
Since Magnus and I had the same mutations, something beneficial to my partner should have the same upsides for me.
“Just watch.” Gilbert went to a rack with discarded weapons and chose a dull sword from it. He gave it a testing swing before he went after Magnus in an extremely exaggerated manner, signalling his attack.
Magnus had no trouble deflecting the blade with the vambrace, but instead of the clang of metal on iobeetle shell, the weapon was repelled by an invisible force and bounced off.
Gilbert, even though he was a skilled fighter, was visibly surprised by the effect and almost lost the sword. “Oh, this will catch people off guard, I can tell you. I was prepared for what would happen and I still almost lost my weapon like some noob.”
“I must admit, I channelled most of what I could give,” Magnus admitted while he lifted the vambrace away from his forearm. “It’s already getting warm from the current I put through it.”
“Hm.” Gilbert regarded the piece of armour with some doubt. “Should we have gone with some cooling system after all?”
Magnus shook his head. “Naah, why bother? I think it can endure a few blows before it starts burning. And how likely is it to get hit in the same spot several times in a row?”
“I assume you are using electromagnetism in our armour?” I asked.
The two men finally remembered my presence.
“Exactly!” Magnus grinned. “Do you like it?”
“Very much,” I admitted. “Assuming it works.”
“I want to try the reverse too.” Magnus turned back to face Gilbert while he re-attached the vambrace. “Same move?”
Gilbert obliged and this time the blade hit the vambrace with a metallic clang. But instead of sliding off, it stayed stuck!
For a moment, Magnus and Gilbert were in a short tug of war before the elder began to drag Magnus over the floor. “You will have to be careful against who you use this. If the opponent is stronger than you, it will give him the advantage.”
“It shouldn’t be too big of a problem,” I inserted myself into the conversation. “As long as we have control over the magnetism, we can decide when to use it.”
Magnus disengaged the mechanism and left Gilbert stumbling two steps backwards before the elder caught himself. With a huff, he returned the sword to the rack.
Then the blacksmith turned his attention toward me. “Do you want to try your armour too? I admit, I anticipated seeing it on you. Give an old man a little show.”
I smiled at Gilbert but said nothing.
Gilbert smiled too, not understanding.
I was wearing my filaments as a wide gown today, but it was no excuse for him to be slow on the uptake. By now, my pregnancy should be known far and wide even if he hadn’t been at the meeting when it was made public.
When it became clear he didn’t get it, I looked pointedly down at my belly. “I will pass for the time being.”
“Oh!” Gilbert’s eyes widened. “Oh, I am so sorry. Slow on the uptake today.”
He hummed once the awkward moment passed and considered the manikin with my armour. “You know, if your state lasts long enough, I could rework a second mid-section to accommodate for…”
Gilbert indicated the new shape like an artist imagining the outline of his new sculpture.
I cleared my throat in protest and did my best not to imagine the pregnant version of my new armour. “No, thank you. I’ll simply avoid fights while I am in this state.”
Magnus cleared his throat and slammed his fist into his palm. “Why don’t we forget this idea ever happened? Let’s move on to the matter of the cores!”