Terra certainly seemed content to let the usual enforcement of peace lapse considerably across the Rim and Frontier, even with their intercession against the Kariston Confederacy—which Arthur had later learned had more to do with the fact they were actively trying to raise resistance to Terran supremacy.
The Imperator would not tolerate overt challenge. Mass Manipulation technology, though… Well, that was more ambivalent.
“We’re approaching the Iris, Arthur.”
Arthur’s attention snapped back to Atreus while the spartan continued.
“Come and see, if you wish for a better view.”
Curiosity and interest as to why the Myrmidón would make the offer warred with patented disinterest over seeing yet another Docking Iris within Arthur, until finally curiosity won out. Arthur let his straps retract a moment later, and stood to make his way to the unsealed access hatch leading to the shuttle’s cockpit.
Atreus stepped aside to let him pass, and Arthur came to a halt with his hands on the back of Endymion’s chair.
What he saw dashed his thoughts of ‘yet another Iris’ almost entirely.
It wasn’t just the Iris he’d been invited to see. It was Hellas itself.
The superhabitable world was a colossal ball of life that seemed to shine with vitality. Its seas were a beautiful shade of sapphire in some places, and a radiant type of emerald in others; clear and free of even the hints of industrial pollutants that obfuscated the skies of some other heavily developed worlds.
Its three landmasses were a mix of greens, browns, whites and even reds from orbit; with the greenery being the predominant shade of color across nearly seventy percent of their visible surface. This close to the planet, only a third of the total landmass of the planet was visible at all—with only the lower fifth of the topmost one discernible.
Hellas, due to its size, had a forty-eight hour day cycle from what Arthur had read—one that was accounted for by simple creature comforts to simulate night time within dwellings, and artificial sunlight to light up cities even through the long nights. It was that same cycle that allowed Arthur to take in a barely-moving view of the majestic world that the Ascendancy had claimed as its capital.
“Even living here all my life, it still never ceases to amaze me when I see it.” Perseus said conversationally from his right.
“It’s beautiful.” Arthur admitted genuinely. “I expected to see more ice up north, though.”
“It’s much more visible from closer to the poles.” Perseus explained. “We’re toward the lower part of the equator at present. We may be able to take you to visit one of the ski resorts at a later date.”
“That would be pretty nice.” Arthur said with a laugh. “Though I might embarrass myself.”
“Unlikely, with those Eidolon reflexes.” Endymion snorted in disbelief.
Perseus laughed, and even Atreus grunted in amusement.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
“How harsh is the gravity?” Arthur asked with another smile.
“Roughly twice Terran-standard. We usually keep off-worlders in the tourist areas with gravitational equalizers, but the locals have mostly adapted to the change.”
“What about where we’re going?”
“House Leos sits on an island off the southernmost peninsula of Laconia.” Endymion explained gruffly. “They very specifically don’t have one because they believe in authentic experiences.”
“No need to pretend you are concerned, Arthur.” Atreus said while stepping up behind Perseus and resting a hand on the younger Kidemónes seatback. “Your gene-tailoring probably allows you to move freely in up to three times Earth’s gravity, does it not?”
Arthur’s mind filled with knowledge the moment Atreus said it, and he nodded automatically.
“It does.”
In truth, Zacaris’ memories told him even six times gravity wouldn’t be too much.
“Then you will be fine.” Atreus said simply.
“And Graecians are born for it!” Perseus added in with a laugh. “We were adapted early.”
“Higher muscle mass and bone density, right?” Arthur asked conversationally. “I’ve read about initial colonization. The geneticists that came with the Olympus colony ship didn’t want to give up on Hellas despite the force of gravity, so they engineered micro-tailoring as soon as they could.”
Perseus laughed. “Very true. The first decade was miserable for the colonists, though. The VidLogs are pretty damn clear about that.”
“Our people are stronger than the average human in the cluster, but do not grow very tall.” Atreus added in calmly. “You will need to remember that and be polite in how you interact with others, Arthur. If you are seen to be lording your height over the common people, it will create problems for your sponsors in House Leos.”
Arthur’s mind worked at that problem calmly before he responded. “Keep a step back, lower my center of gravity, talk to them side-on and try to avoid looming?”
“Now you’re thinking!” Perseus said with an approving chuckle. “Gotta account for us short stacks, Arthur!”
“You’re not that short.” Arthur said with a glance at the Kidemónas.
“Not that short, he says.” Endymion grunted in amusement.
“Arthur.” Perseus said jovially. “It isn’t as if none of us have noticed you have half a foot on even Atreus, and he’s considered quite tall by Graecian standards.”
“Oh.”
“The average Graecian height is 5’9 for men, and 5’3 for women.” Atreus said simply. “You will need to remember that during your time with the Ascendancy. As your volunteer guide to our culture, your failure to understand these things will reflect on me poorly if you fail to understand.”
“That explains why you’re being so forthcoming.” Arthur said with an appraising look at the taciturn Myrmidón.
“I take my obligations seriously.” Atreus stated firmly.
To that, Arthur could only smile. It was strange, but he had a feeling that the spartan’s words were as close to ‘I do not disdain you’ as Arthur was probably going to directly hear.
“Are you enjoying the flight so far, Arthur?” Perseus asked a short time later while they began to more sharply vector through thickening traffic.
“Very much.” Arthur said with a grin. “You’re a good pilot, Perseus.”
“Ha! I know. That’s why Endymion makes me do all the flying. He claims it’s because of seniority, but he really just hates to fly.”
The only response from the older Kidemónas was a shake of his helmeted head and a disapproving click of his tongue, though it lacked the same bite as earlier reprimands. Perhaps Perseus had hit the proverbial nail on the head.