/Due to eliminating non-combatant Matrix users, 1% of renumeration will be conveyed.
//The Astorian Empire has Conquered the Great Hunters of Herrat//
/Bonus experience and rewards.
Well, shit. I feel my next venture into aether space is going to find a message that dresses me down, or requires my presence. I shudder at the thought of a galactic entity forcing me to talk to them.
/Teleportation attempt unsuccessful.
/Surviving infrastructure on a conquered planet may be repaired at reduced cost.
/Contracts of conquered industries are eligible for renegotiation.
/Teleportation unsuccessful
Damn, I would have never imagined the responsibilities that follow near genocide. Sure, the Matrix assures me that tens, maybe hundreds, of millions of Herrat survived in their appellate systems, but not it’s up to me whether I let them run them or not? This is not what I wanted. It makes me sick that twenty billion can be reduced to shame and a dragon’s hoard of tokens and credits. At least the Empire has a war chest again.
Side note, what is this about someone trying to teleport me?
Where I would normally ignore the summons, as I can apparently ignore their transportation magic, these are the representatives of a thousand races in the Supercluster, Perhaps hundreds of trillions of beings. I’m not ashamed to say that I am considering telling them to go to hell as I attend to my daughter. It’s hard to admit that I would doom thousand to check on her, but dooming billions is . . . too much.
I end up accepting and am teleported to a receiving platform in front of a grandiose structure covered in sculptures of multiple races in their technological and societal advancements. Visions of conquering are noticeably absent.
A small creature with a mushroom cap hood, a plain face and short arms covered in tasteful and well-made robes approaches with a pair of bipedal lizard guards with spears. The being taps the collar on his robe, a glowing metal emblem squacking at the attention.
“Greetings Empress Astoria of the Matrix and current custodian of humanity and the Herrat refugees.” Well that’s a mouthful. Did not know I was formally responsible for remaining Herrat, or perhaps he refers to the defector’s colony I started for them.
“Greetings Forum Representative. Please excuse my ignorance, and as I find it rude to inspect everyone, I have declined to do so.”
“Well met. And most of the Ten feel the same about inspect or appraisal related skills. I am Representative M’lundi of the Myconid Collective, first populace of the Ten. Meaning we currently have the most users registered with the Forum.”
“Thank you for the clarification. I appreciate your cordial attention, but I must attend to a battle on one of my moons.”
“I understand your desire for haste, so you may slow or momentarily stop time if you wish.” The mushroom reveals a secret of mine with casual indifference.
“I . . . am not comfortable in doing so for extended periods.”
“Then I suppose it would be prudent to offer you refreshments and begin our business.” We continue walking as he speaks.
I nod in concurrence before speaking. “Yes, lets, and I would gladly accept your offer if the refreshments have aether in them.”
He nods with his cap to make me comfortable, “Of course.” Though it walked and talked, my aether senses have been erratic. It appears as a homogenous mass of aether with some sort of wavy tether connecting the Representative to points unknown, though likely his collective. As we walk, I practice dilating time and space so that the time we travel and the distance are shortened. After a short minute of actual time, we arrive at an office and I release my committed aether to allow us to interact with objects normally.
The mushroom chuckles. “It has been some time since I have seen such applications of aether. It is a rare specialization you have.” His first stop in the office we walked into is a cubby near a large desk, where two drinks are waiting for him. He proffers me one and motions for me to sit.
The seat is comfortable, though having no back, and a soothing and rich floral taste fills me with aether from the beverage handed to me. “This is much more satisfying than the juice I normally drink. Thank you.”
“To the issue of why we attempted to summon you: your near eradication of the Herrat.”
Raising an eyebrow at the comment, I know that if this person were a threat to my immediate health they would have been less welcoming. The juxtaposition is confusing, but interesting all the same.
“The leadership I talked to told me in no uncertain terms that they would be a persistent threat, so I took away their ability to be persistent in the near future.” To my surprise, the Myconid gestures dismissively at my attempt to defend my actions.
“The Ten, and the Forum at large, don’t busy themselves in the squabbles between two civilizations. We only get involved when a threat to the Matrix or the Supercluster’s general populace is threatened.”
“So, how does ignoring the Herrat enslaving new civilizations fall into that category? Denying billions the use of the Matrix seems a disservice if you ask me.” I should probably feel more in awe of this creature’s position, perhaps act more respectfully in general, but they basically tried to abduct me and I was respectful enough to appear for the summons.
“The Matrix attempts to respect cultural habits and expectations. Your Human right of conquest for new land being one of them.” When I open my mouth to reply, he continues, “To the point, however, is that you’ve caused a class five destruction event—events that threaten planets and possible even systems.”
“While we as a Supercluster mourn the loss of a habitable planet, it does happen and they can be recovered in time. More to the point, the Forum members want to be reassured that this event does not lend you or your civilization additional confidence or hubris towards the idea of using this as a routine practice. As you own words described Humanity as prone to violence, and deserving of technological censure, We are curious as to your intentions from here.”
Don’t get a big head? That’s what this meeting is about? Okay, that’s a surprise and a half. “If we’re being candid, and confidential . . .” I wait for an acknowledgement, “Humanity was not ready to colonize other systems, let alone meet a spacefaring community. As the inner conflict on Earth has indicated, we can barely manage ourselves on one planet. Throw in four more habitable worlds with expansionist dreams, and while you may replace our innate need for control with the wonder of new frontiers, the problems don’t go away.
“To answer your question, I plan to establish a multi-system Empire that can accommodate the needs of the several races that have settled there, and to make it more robust than the diaphanous world government we had on my own planet. I want ours to be a trading and exploring Empire, so our military focus will be to police more than make war.”
I believe they nod for my sake, but the gesture of understanding is appreciated. “This is a most agreeable position. I speak for the Forum in saying that we welcome the commerce and opportunity to experience new cultures. The Ten appreciate that we do not have a rogue Primus on our hands that has a mastery of void aligned aether. Though, many civilizations have interest in allying with such a creature should they be reasonable.”
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
I chuckle that they call me a creature. “Perhaps in a mark or so, once we settle into this way of life and I have a few more tiers under my belt. Though, I am willing to help if I am capable of doing so. Though I might appreciate a message or a job posting more than a summons.”
“That is understandable. Here, I have sent you an invitation to be an Ambassador of the Matrix to the Forum, though I recommend resolving any consequences of your war before accepting the invitation in case your status changes.”
“Thank you Representative, I appreciate the opportunity to stay apprised of Supercluster politics. Now if that’s all, I have urgent matters to attend.” He nods and I spend a few moments to fully realize the new environment I wish to be in and transposition myself onward.
“That was not mere void aligned aether. Must be convenient though.” The Myconid muttered to himself, sharing the thought with their collective.
***
When I open my eyes, I am not where I expected to be. The familiar sight of a desk with a floating panel display and keyboard greet me as I rise from the ground to survey my latest teleportation folly.
“Welcome! It saddens us to meet again under such circumstances, however”
“As administrators, we have been tasked with an audit of your title and position as Mediator.”
The twins manage to convey condolences through their relentlessly chipper demeanor. “Well, at least time is fluid and often compressed here. Lets get on with it then. I get the Penalties are from massacring civilians, so is the audit for the same purpose?”
“Mmm, not exactly. As you have the Class: Inightful Calamity, collateral damage was predicted, so is that your reasoning may not be . . .”
“Traditionally sensible.”
I snort a laugh at that, fair enough. “Okay, I’ll bite. From a personal standpoint, I couldn’t allow 2 ish billion Humans be captured and have their Matrix contact be shut down without putting up a fight. So that’s two billion weighed against 17 billion on the face of it. But what about their practices of not allowing their slaves to initiate into the Matrix?
“If you take the period of my probation as a Moderator, and factor in the use of tier 1 and 2 medical technology, that two billion people could easily reach 15 billion in 100 years. If you also consider the fact that the Herrat have been taking slaves like this for hundreds of years, and denying them the system for just as long, with no intervention from the forum, that’s around 25 billion affected through their action, which would be enough to put the Herrat slaves in the Forum themselves.”
All told, it’s a staggering set of numbers when my planet only has a few million on it. The justification on numbers is merely a reason to go through with the plan than to make what I did worth doing, though some more powerful civilization could have handled it with less outright murder. It surprised me to hear the Representative admit that they allow civilizations a great deal of leeway due to the Matrix allowing some things like slavery and conquering an unregistered planet by showing up and putting my feet on land.
After perceived minutes of silence I glance back up at the twins. “So, was this supposed to be a trial or something? Anything you want to ask me?”
“I suppose we could while the Matrix finishes their simulations.”
“Have your views of the Andromeda Matrix changed since the conclusion of this altercation?”
I mean, yes, obviously. “How can it not? While I understand that Andromeda’s goals are to gain more users, to presumably organize and feed them aether, what I don’t get is why they don’t intervene in practices that lead to massive changes in the number of users. Or at least empower the Forum to do so. I get that Andromeda honors cultural traditions, but when is it too far?”
They nod. “A common realization by civilization leaders across the galaxies.”
“Indeed, and while the Andromeda Matrix does want more users to feed them more aether, it’s more for the guidance and the expansion of their capabilities to guide races toward a more civilized future that is the goal. That said, the Matrix at one point had a creator and that creator instilled a core tenant that most of the Administrators and Mediators support: It is the responsibility of the powerful and wise to guide and teach through rewards, limitations, and punishments; never through exercising that power and wisdom to control others.”
My frustrated exclamations to Andromeda for the past three years have led to a multitude of responses that now make more sense. “So if Andromeda sees a pattern and wants it changed, she has to guide others into hopefully fixing the problem? That’s certainly a long game to be playing, though I would wager they have the time.”
What would that kind of manipulation even look like? How could they predict that their actions would lead to an intended result without time rendering it moot? They would need to either focus offered advancement to their aims and accelerate rewards, or find a powerful actor to take the stage and . . . wait a second.
“Oh, my . . . matrix. They used me as their agent of change!!”
“That took much longer than expected.”
“Andromeda has been favoring you to an absurd degree.”
Damn do I feel like a heel. But what would have happened if she hadn’t? I’d probably have been stuck in the brig of the Galilei and then put on trial when we got home. Captain Morris would have likely given Earth the Matrix anyway, which would have led the Herrat to come out to Sol instead of Astoria. I probably would have eventually gained enough power to squirm out of jail, but to what end? I wouldn’t have killed other Humans in order to advance, especially since PVP is highly frowned upon outside of wartime.
If I look at it that way, Andromeda saved Humanity every bit as much as I did—if not more. They also put me in a place to take the blows and burden of society, but change is hard for everyone I suppose.
“Well, shit. Thanks for . . . everything Andromeda. You really did Humanity and myself a great service. Sorry about not having advanced far enough to have ended the conflict another way. So what kind of punishment am I looking at?” I try not to make any assumptions.
“The experience and skill development penalties for killing non-combatants should be self explanatory.”
“As should the monetary penalty levied.”
I nod at both of those.
“The Andromeda Matrix finished their simulations to find, that with few, remote-chance exceptions, you acted in a way that best preserved the future expansion of the Matrix and their Users.”
“You also correctly identified that you were being groomed as a force for change and it would be . . . rude use a heavy hand when you acted in the direction you were being funneled toward.”
I chuckle at that. They approve of the results but not the method. Copy. “Wait, so I get to keep the title and you still want me as a moderator?” Outside chance, but hey, what does asking hurt?
“Yes, on both accounts, however.”
“There are several punishments that the Matrix is willing to accept or the discrepancy of users eliminated and your projected users after 100 years.”
Those were tabletop numbers said in confidence you jerks. I sigh loudly. “Lets hear them.”
“The options include: Remain in service to the Andromeda Matrix for a second for every civilian user you killed. Perform a period of uninterrupted service to the Matrix for a mark times the discrepancy in billions to begin no later than a mark from now. Sacrifice a portion of your aether stores daily until your debt for the discrepancy is paid, or finally, surrender personal profit from your work and businesses until your non-combatant debt is repaid.”
Oof. Those last two feel a bit ‘ad aeternum’ for my taste. Crude mental math has the first punishment lasting more than thirty thousand years. The second should be between 16 and 20, but uninterrupted, meaning I would miss out on a lot all at once. Normally I would scoff at the idea of thirty thousand years of service but, depending on the frame in which you view time and the idea that energy beings are functionally immortal, it’s not impossible. In the end, though, it comes to freedom.
Freedom to act, that would be the money one, for sure, because trillions of aether goes a long way. But I cant make more until I pay off some absurd hundreds of trillions of credits that the non-combatants would have made during an undisclosed amount of time. How long would it take to personally make billions, would I be able to fund my research with Empire funds? Would that get censured for violating the spirit of the punishment? Bah, to many variables.
The aether tithe is a no go. Too many times have I needed all of my reserves to see myself through a difficult situation. Thirty thousand years of service sounds like a noose or a slave collar, honestly, and I would champ at the bit relentlessly. Which leaves direct service: a jail-like work program.
“Wait a second, you’re asking me to be complicit in my punishment. What sense does that make?”
For the first time in . . . since I’ve met them, the Twins seem confused. “Perhaps we made assumptions we should not have?”
They look at each other, “Perhaps.” They turn back to me and continue. “Made plain, we assumed that you would want to maintain the ‘of the Matrix’ title and benefits.”
“As well as your first red mark as a Moderator.”
“We also did not present the option where you surrender all the benefits of conquering the Herrati, to include the majority of the money, the foothold in the Andromeda Galaxy, and the experience.”
I open my mouth again to refute something, when they interrupt me.
“Before you rush to accept that option irrevocably, consider what it cost you to establish ten thousand people on Astoria. Imagine what fifty times that in tokens and a million times in credits could do as well as all of the infrastructure left in that system.”
Shit. I really could use that money to do a lot of good. I could rebuild Atropos, or better yet, fund some rebuilding efforts in credits and set up the basic colony or Kepler and shunt some money to Earth for a ton of rebuilding that they need after what I’m calling World War Three. Essentially, they’re insinuating that the pay I was given is my wage for my upcoming punishment time, and that if I don’t want to take the punishment, I lose my title and take a mark against my immortality for acting selfishly as a Moderator.
In fact, one of the least selfish things on the table is to take the money and accept the years of un-interrupted service to the frontier. Shit. I’m totally going to do that aren’t I.
“You both are terrible and I hate you.” The bastards beam me smiles, probably knowing in their empathic brains that I don’t hate them, and in fact hate myself. Assholes. Making me feel my feelings.
“Fine, you make a good case, and I would be punishing my citizens more than myself if I defaulted on any of this. I accept the continuous service option, IF you don’t drag me into aether space without my permission.”
They look at each other and I can tell they’re having one of those twin conversations with their eyes.
“That, does not align with emergency situations the matrix may call for.”
“However, we would agree that you would only be pulled in an emergency situation, whose time would count against your continuous service commitment.”
Oh, hey now, that’s not bad. Assuming I don’t ignore my duties in the meantime, any emergency would count against my continuous service? I think I can agree to that.
“Excellent! Of course, as this is contrary to a normal action the Andromeda Matrix would take, it requires your tacit agreement. You will serve a mark, or approximately eight years, times your 100 year projection discrepancy, 5.1 billion rounded to five, in years equaling to 40 year of continuous service.”
“To begin no later than your probationary period, or 110 years from last week.”
“Fourty years?! I thought the discrepancy was only 2.5 billion?” I squeak.
“Ah, well, the Matrix ran roughly a million simulations, and the average was 12.2 billion humans after 100 from 2.6 billion saved. That was using liberal estimates of survival rates due to longevity and tiers 1 and 2 medical advances.”
FUCK! What if I want more kids? What if my Empire’s not ready? What if. . . shit. What if you die and spend a millennia rebuilding your body you idiot? I have a century to make a plan, so figure on twenty years and a prayer.
“Fine, I accept. I didn’t think the two of you would be so cutthroat.”
“As the Matrix bids, we perform.”
“Quite the performance you must say.” The Twins bow and then fade into the white ephemeral surrounding my realized office space.
“Well, best return to where I was headed.” I meditate to fully realize a position on Clotho that may have been spared the bombardment and transposition there.