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007: First Contact

007: First Contact

CHAPTER 007: First Contact

Adam Rytman

TCS Cutlass/Pontifex-A System

Long War

28 March 2547, 18:56

“You shouldn’t do that.” Nymphae decided to act like my mother.

“Why?” I stood in my new quarters, standing in front of the bookshelf. It was high-tech as well. Made from that white plastic (carbon-based polymer nanocomposite, as Nymphae informed me). And the books were from the material that seemed much more resilient (and filth-proof) than simple paper.

“Because trying to learn the history of the world from those books is a bad idea.” The pixie sighed visibly. “It’s just Corporation’s propaganda. It’s hard to find a country or any other bigger group of people that aren’t trying using propaganda and didn’t rewrite the history at least once. Even most democracies did that. But the more fringe the group the worse the situation.”

“Well, then I’ll take this book.” I took it from the shelf. ”It seems to be about 20th century. Since I know something about it, I’ll be able to easily find out if it’s really that bad.” My personal pixie didn’t look very persuaded.

It was precisely as bad as she said.

I’ve spent twenty minutes (with my jaw dropped) reading a historical book claiming the cause for Hitler’s growth to power was the existences of social benefits in Germany (brought in turn, by the rise of abhorrent ‘Collectivists’ - namely, social democrats - after the First World War ended). And that his collectivist regime persecuted Jews because of their involvement in the economy, especially the banking system. Without a single mention of Hitler being racist - it was just him persecuting capitalism.

“Who the fuck wrote this thing?!” I took a look and… Truthseekers Corporation. Why am I not surprised?

“I warned you.” Nymphae suddenly appeared in front of me. She wagged a finger at me. “Maybe you’ll listen next time.”

“Any idea where can I learn about the history of the world?” I had to kill time. If travel from a planet’s moon to the moon took an hour, I had to expect long pauses between interesting things.

“Nowhere.” She shrugged, seeing my face. “History got kinda broken. Now it’s ten thousand different histories. Different for any totalitarian regime, be it right-wing, left-wing or centre. Different for any democracy. Different for any monarchy. And so on. If you read a 20th century history books from a socialist or communist state you would discover that Hitler was a champion of capitalism that exterminated the Jews because of them being secret supporters of communism and proletarian dictatorships.”

Wonderful. This place gets dystopian. Then again, Earth I ‘came from’ isn’t all bees and flowers. There is a reason I’m playing the games rather than do something for real, right?

“Burn it. Or do whatever you do to dispose of books like that.” I’m not exactly a fan of book-burning, but if there were ever books that deserved it… then I had a whole bookshelf of them in front of me. “Maybe with exception of this Kamasutra thing.”

“Uhuhuhu.” Nymphae laughed in a pretty... weird way. “Hoping to deepen the relationship with 4T?”

“Would be a nice thing to do… Though I‘m not sure if I really feel like teaching her what sex is.“ The Clones were all pretty basic. Corporation ‘taught’ them only the basic necessities. Sigh. “Well, is there anything else you want, or can I rest?” Well, it was pretty… active prologue sequence of the game, right?

“Well, yes. Actually, there is something.” Hmm? “How’s your situation on the field of religion?”

What?

“Well, a ‘doubtful agnostic’ I guess.” I answered carefully. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, because you’d have to make a decision which one of Diamond’s superpower should we bless with our attention. And just so it happens that all three main powers of the planet are to at least some extent theocracies.” WHAT?!

“You’re joking, right?” Middle 20th-century and all the world’s superpowers are theocracies?!

“Well, no. I’m serious.”… Seriously? “Choir of the Righteous, Celestial Empire and Vistryan Hegemony are all more or less theocracies.”

I don’t know if I like the names. Especially the first one.

“It might be the best choice.” I didn’t see that coming. “It’s more like religious United Nations, even if more centralized. Lots of individually weak republics and monarchies banded under religious leadership of a council composed of representatives of every variant of central, monotheistic religion. It’s the oldest of current superpowers, with its religious doctrine heavily based on Christianity - with some elements of Islam and Buddhism - which the Corporation believed to have a source in Precursors.”

“Precursors were Christians?” That would be weird.

“No. At least the Corporation found no signs of a religion of any kind. But as Prehumans, they had to know of it, just as they did know about Islam and Buddhism. Why they used them like that… no idea.” Hmm… “They seem to be most trustworthy of the three powers. There are knees deep in shit so they would be thankful for the help. Besides, they are the least magical of all three factions, so they should be the easiest to introduce into our technology.”

“Knee deep in shit?”

“Well, about a century ago there was a ‘technological heresy’ in their lands, though details are rather murky. The Choir exiled the heretics to a big and decently fertile island in the north where they were left for their own devices.” A tame way of dealing with heretics, I guess. “Unfortunately, it backfired. Ten years ago said exiles used the combination of both primitive technology and magic… and made something that can be roughly compared to a Class Five AI.”

I don’t like where this is going. “And let me guess, it’s hostile?”

“Yes. Omnicidally so. And while it’s not smart, with its power over machines it’s almost unstoppable. The Corporation called it ‘Moloch’ after an AI from some ancient RPG game. First, it turned all the exiles that didn’t flee in time into Wetware CPUs, and then it began its slow expansion onto the Choir’s territory. They are slowly losing ground ever since. The other superpowers are also sharpening their daggers as we speak, hoping to take advantage over the Choir’s decline, though it’s short-sighted. It’s still the strongest power around, at least in terms of numbers, and I don’t really think they have a chance against Moloch if the Choir falls.”

“Alright, and said two powers are…” Let’s return to the main subject.

“Celestial Empire is mostly equatorial regions. Lots of jungles, little industry to speak of. But they are the most magical of all three powers. They are also a theocracy… that worships their ruler as a living deity.” In the 1940s?! “Well, she knows everything that happens within ‘her’ jungles. And she controls every living non-sapient beings within the said jungle, single-handedly changing it from a jungle into some weird, Elven forest idyll. So she definitely is no simple mortal.”

I forgot. Magic world. Might explain why locals are so crazy about religion. Their civilization grew for who-knows-how-many-years with a living denial of the laws of physics pretty much everywhere around them.

“They also have strong problems with the concept of a nudity taboo, which is something you seemed interested in a few hours ago. Combined with Free Love approach to relationships. Though they also lack the concept of privacy and private ownership - as all belong to the Goddess - and have many terrifying methods of executing those that dare to not show their utmost love to the Celestial Empress.”

“Let’s consider them a Plan B.” Getting laid easily would make such an alliance interesting no doubt (hurray for space harems!), but I don’t think I could pretend to worship a being like that. Besides, I don’t want murderous hippies on my ship. “And the Hegemony?”

“Well… if the Choir are Christians, then the Vistryans are unironical and literal Satanists.”... Seriously?” The two countries hate each other so deep it can be easily said they were in a state of war, hot and cold alternatively, for about three centuries before Moloch showed up. Now the fights ceased. Mostly. Also, Hegemony is an extreme totalitarian regime that seems to borrow a lot from the Third Reich. Besides…”

“Rejected.” She looked at me questioningly. “I don’t even have to know who rules it and any further details. Such a country will never consider us partners, no matter what we do. Sooner or later they will take us down, interrogate us about any technologies we might have not told them about yet, and then execute.” And I don‘t even have to care about their religion. Totalitarian regimes are pretty similar to each other.

“Right. That’s possible.” She looked at me, this time attentively. “So, whom do we choose?”

I expected more… I dunno. Normal choices?! But with Hegemony being an absolute nope, and Empire being rather nope… well, Choir seems like the best of bad choices.

“They are also the ones to send up a satellite.” Nymphae said. “Military communication goes through it. Should make the first contact easier.”

Well, no way I’m gonna go there myself first. The last thing I want is some nervous local shooting me. And then become an object of worship because I returned to life.

“Then, looks like we have a plan.”

***

TCS Cutlass/Pontifex-A System

Long War

28 March 2547, 19:36

“We’ve reached the orbit.” Nymphae informed me… though it was a piece of redundant information, as I could see the planet in front of me.

“Pretty planet.” I commented. “Did they notice us?”

“They probably didn’t see the Cutlass, but they definitely noticed the other ships.” Nymphae was sitting atop the computer console in front of captain seat. ”Judging from the intercepted radio transmissions and visual sensors, I’d say they are panicking, though in a militarily organized way.”

“Great.” At least they will consider me seriously. “You have some translator tool or something, right?”

“Yes.” Phew. Having language problems right now would be stupid. “Expect being met with some hostility. The Corporation kidnapped a few of the locals to dissect and anal probe.” She winked after the probe part, so I presume it was a bad joke. “For an added benefit, one shuttle working on that crashed, and while the Corporation cleaned the crash site from orbit, locals are almost surely aware that something’s fishy. At least the top brass.”

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

“Wonderful. Connect us.” It will be fun.

It wasn’t long between I could hear a voice in my ears. Headphones are so passe when you have implants.

“... we know. We all saw them, you know. According to Command we all…”

“Excuse me?” Suddenly it went silent. “I don’t want to interrupt, but it’s important.”

It’s obviously the military communication systems, it will take a while to get to their leadership.

“Who is that? This is a secured military frequency! Identify yourself.” Yeah, well, obviously military.

“You saw those things in front of your moon, right? Well, I phoned you from them and I want to speak with your leaders.” 26th century, so instead of ‘take me to your leaders’ we have many modern methods when it comes to the first contact.

“Listen, I don’t know how you got on this frequency, but it’s not a place for jokes.” What?! “Aliens, whoever they are, probably don’t speak perfect Vildish. And I do not think the first contact is supposed to be done through radio like that. In short - since I’m busy I’ll let it pass, but if you continue doing this, I’ll send the police after you. Goodbye.”

And then he returned to talking with someone in the background.

I sat there with my jaw dropped, and with Nymphae laughing in the background.

Well, that went much different from expect.

***

Var Or’kas

War Council Room/Pontifex A-3

Long War

28 March 2547, 19:55

The emergency sitting of the War Council went more or less as expected. Lots of arguing, lots of people being stupid and not even seeing it, and a little actual decision-making. I might have been - as a Voice - a commander-in-chief of armed forces of the Choir, but this didn’t mean I could do with the army as I pleased.

Too bad. I had at least several people I knew would be much use for the union serving on the frontline. Preferably somewhere with highest possible mortality rate - they would die before messing things up.

Right now I sat at the top of the long table, hearing general Alexk Stekhmaj enthusiastically claiming how well prepared we are for this new threat. Which was literally so wrong I had to fight the urge to throw him out of the War Council.

Politics! As our defeats at the hands of Ikhvir mounted, people demanded victory more and more. And, with people being people, they ended up listening to empty promises of people like Stekhmaj that had no commanding skills to speak of… but could talk and talk about the victory. He was probably silently dreaming of establishing a ‘strong’ and ‘effective’ government, no doubt with himself at the head.

Which was precisely the reason the Choir wasn’t a democracy. I caved in before the public opinion once… and I was regretting it ever since.

“I didn’t want to interrupt you, as I like hearing how prepared and so on we are.” Admiral Vyrk Vysmais, one of the few intelligent people left in the War Council, decided he had enough. “But I think you forget one thing. I vaguely remember learning physics in school, but I think I remember the part about planetary gravity wells good.” He was sarcastic. A lot. Music to my ears. “Especially the part that while it’s very hard to throw something outside while standing on the bottom, it’s a different situation when you want to throw something into it while standing on the outside.”

“Meaning?” The General seemed to still not understand it.

“Meaning that whatever we can do to them, the aliens can repay us a thousandfold.” THe Admiral shook his head. “I don’t know their method of propulsion, but it’s good enough to have them travel in space. Moving over and dropping an asteroid the size of the Tirian Republic on our heads should be child’s play.”

General found no answer to that. And finally stopped talking. My growing headache receded a bit.

“Alright, so how about we stop arguing,“ I said. “And focus on something that might be actually important in this mess. So, not on ground forces.” I got death-stares from at least several people in the room.

Well, maybe if your useless squabbles between representatives of various member-states weren't such a constant thing, we wouldn't lose the Ghvakh to the Machines.

This is not getting anywhere.

“Uhm… Your Holiness?” A young lieutenant, used by someone as a messenger, entered the room. And ignored everyone else besides me.

“Yes?” Let’s not prolong it, he is stressed a lot by standing before so many generals. I don’t want him to drop dead on us. I still remember how scary it was when I was on the other side of that.

How many years ago was it? I barely remember.

“The Communication Room insists that you answer the phone.” I looked at the phone beside me. Red light bulb, so someone on the line. I was so busy that I didn’t notice that.

“I think I explicitly ordered that we shouldn’t be interrupted.” Which was the reason there was no ringing noise announcing the incoming call. I’ve already had a headache, no use worsening it.

“Yes, but… uhm… it’s the aliens.” He made a deep breath. ”The aliens are on the phone. They said they want to speak with our leaders.”

Silence throughout the War Council Room. Even the stenographers sat there with their jaws dropped.

“Well then, let’s not keep them waiting.” I said, fifty years of experience in unexpected things making me not embarrass myself by stuttering.

And let’s hope it’s not about unconditional surrender.

***

Adam Rytman

TCS Cutlass/Pontifex-A System

Long War

28 March 2547, 20:00

Finally, after over twenty minutes of struggling with local communication systems and the officers behind it, I reached the target.

It required improvisation as their ‘War Council’ didn’t even have radio communications (unreliable since it could be intercepted and so on) and instead relied on telephone cables. Which was something we couldn’t connect to. But the natives figured some innovative technological gimmick or some ‘magic’ that somehow managed to fix that.

Or they put the radio receiver in their military communication centre right next to the phone. This was possible as well. It’s not stupid if it works, right?

“It’s connected.” Nymphae said. Only then I noticed whispers in the background. Did they patch me through to… right, War Council. I think I saw early Cold War stuff like that in some old films. Long table, lots of generals and admirals, their version of the president, plus some guards and people noting stuff and so on.

I guess the other side isn’t sure what to say. So let me be the one to do that.

“First thing I would want to establish, before any of you gets the wrong idea, is that we come in peace.”

***

Var Or’kas

War Council Room/Pontifex A-3

Long War

28 March 2547, 20:01

Well, so it’s not an unconditional surrender.

What a relief.

I’ll leave figuring out why exactly the alien sounds like 20-years old lower class citizen of Kratha for a better moment.

“You could show this by giving us back those you kidnapped!” General Stekhmaj shouted almost immediately, even before I had time to say something.

There was a saying my professor really enjoyed using - sometimes even against me. It’s always better to stay silent and have others assume you are stupid… than open your mouth and prove them right.

“General Stekhmaj, I relieve you from duty.” This time it was a step too far. It was no longer a matter of personal patience - that man’s inability to use his brain puts Choir in risk. “You will return to your home and await for your new assignment there. Soldiers.” I turned towards two guards standing by the entrance door. “You will escort the general.”

“Wh…”

I looked right at his eyes. With a big ‘TRY ME’ written on my face. The balloon of ego deflated, and he left the room together with soldiers.

***

Adam Rytman

TCS Cutlass/Pontifex-A System

Long War

28 March 2547, 20:03

Somebody here doesn’t fuck around. Not exactly promising beginning of a relationship, then again he could just have the guy executed or something. Plus there was probably a history behind that.

Well, let’s clear that part out. Immediately.

“Let me refer to that matter.” Other side went much quieter. “Yes, I’m aware that some of your citizens were kidnapped. Yes, aliens did that. But no, it wasn’t us.”

“... There are more aliens?” I guess that might have been overwhelming.

“Well. Yes.” After all, Nymphae mentioned th… wait, that just complicated the narrative and will make them feel more lost. ”No.“ But if they learn the truth, they will think I lied to them, right!? “... It’s complicated. In short - yes, there are more, but it’s irrelevant now. There was a group of people that did bad stuff to you, but something seems to have killed them all. Then we woke up aboard their ship, earlier being…” How should I put that… I dunno what’s their approach to cloning business. “... I guess you could compare to us your kidnapped people, just from elsewhere.”

This wasn’t going as I imagined it. Not. At. All. Ugh. I guess all plans die with the first contact with enemy.

There was a period of silence on the other side.

“... And what do you want from us?” That guy is rather careful. Can’t blame him, though. I’d probably act the same.

“Well, right now there are exactly seven of us here.” No real need to hide it, I could try to capitalize on the intimidation of our mighty ‘fleet’, but it was a short-term strategy. I’d better retreat from the intimidation part and capitalize on their relief. “And sooner or later we will run out of food, and so on. So we hope for… let’s say, business cooperation.”

***

Var Or’kas

War Council Room/Pontifex A-3

Long War

28 March 2547, 20:06

Business cooperation. Aliens come here from who-knows-where and suddenly offer us business cooperation.

But it might be just the miracle we needed to save ourselves from Ikhvir. It’s not precisely the way I hoped us to be saved when I instructed churches to lead weekly devotions dedicated to defending our lands from the Machines. But I will not be picky.

“Business cooperation.” I said. All of our top military leadership listened to the talk without saying a word, the incident with Stekhmaj painfully reminding them I’m still commander-in-chief of the Choir’s armed forces and I’m in a terrible mood. “What precisely would you mean by that?”

“In short - we give you a space navy.” The voice answered. “Which includes ships, though they will have to be retaken as they are currently... occupied. Technology, as well. For that, we need resources - be it food, materials and manpower - needed for it to be kept running.”

Makes sense. If there really are merely seven people… When the observatories saw the ships above us, they also gave me estimates of their sizes. I don’t know how advanced they are, they need many people to operate. And if they needed only one person per ship… we barely managed to notice the fleet, but I’m already sure there are more than seven ships there.

They also seem to know details about technology and the way of using the ships. Without making this deal there is no way for us to get there - I don’t even need to know who is exactly ‘occupying’ the ships. We are yet to master spaceflight to a point of sending people up there. Even in sending out the satellite we only succeeded at the third attempt.

And even if we reached the fleet and capture the ships… how long will it take for us to figure out the technologically behind it? How long will it take for the Ikhvir to steal it from us... and improve? And what if Ikhvir or Vistryan heretics get there first?

Having to rely on a group of suspiciously young-sounding aliens is a low price to pay for survival, right? What’s the worst that could happen?

***

Adam Rytman

TCS Cutlass/Pontifex-A System

Long War

28 March 2547, 20:10

The long moment of silence and doubts finally came to an end.

“Well, I think we’ll have this… cooperation.” Phew! ”We still need to iron out details. Write some proper agreement. But we’re certainly interested.”

Nymphae started flying circles around my head, scattering pixie dust around.

Huh. I guess the dice throw that defined my starting point in Long War ended up being a critical success. Unless the thing that murdered the Corporation will return and finish the job.