You don't have to worry about the spider-birds. I doubt they've learned how to travel through the fourth wall, not yet at least.
...
How long is the train ride? A few hours, why?
...
Yes, it is a high-speed train, it's just that it must cover a significant distance. You see, those who built Sunrise (or Sunset, it depends on your perspective) also built the three space elevators present on the planet and didn't want any of them to be visible from their fancy new city. In their opinion, a bustling spaceport and space elevator would be a blemish on their horizon, and so all such ports and elevators were restricted to below the horizon line from the city's perspective.
Given the significant height of the space elevators and the distance from which large capital ships can be seen from space, this meant that they had to be built quite a distance away. This has led to the closest space elevator to the city itself being a fair journey away, even with high-speed rail systems.
...
I don't know if I would call it that. It does leave for a near-unmarred view from the top of many of the city's towers.
Now if you want to see some really absurd restrictions, how about we take a look at Alpha and Mrs. P?
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Alpha felt like a stain on a wedding dress. Specifically, a blue blemish on a white and gold gown. If it weren't for Mrs. P and her unapologetic gleaming redness, Alpha might have adjusted her hues to be various off-white shades. As it were, she had adjusted her tone to be a lighter blue, and her flowing hair was now a soft white.
It just felt wrong to not go along with the color scheme.
As soon as she had stepped off the shuttle, Alpha was greeted with a boulevard of clean whites and gleaming golden edges. A cursory glance through local legislation confirmed Alpha's suspicions: all the buildings in the area were held to very specific building codes, ones with perhaps unnecessary attention to the visual aesthetic. The effect would have been jarring if not for the pastel colors intertwined throughout. Instead, the overall result was the visual equivalent of a soft and warm blanket.
Which only made it even more appropriate that Mrs. P, atop Blood's large synthetic frame, sat right in the middle of it, uncaring that her color scheme clearly was not planned for.
However as Alpha took stock of the others walking past on the smooth stone, she realized that very few seemed to follow the aesthetic guidelines of whoever had been had designed this section of the city. A vaguely humanoid individual, who glowed a bright pink, with even brighter hair, gave Alpha the courage to fade back to a hue closer to her natural colors. Though of course, she didn't transition into such colors immediately. She considered it to be in poor taste to rapidly change her pigmentation unless it was for comedic or dramatic effect.
Or if it was against her immediate control. If you ever saw her blush, you'd gain a healthy appreciation for whoever had helped integrate Alpha's emotions with her cybernetic body's facial expressions. Alpha herself had managed to never see her own physical form undergoing such significant emotions and thereby was in for a shock herself if she ever passed by a mirror when consuming some of her more engaging media.
Pray for that mirror.
As it were, the only semi-reflective surfaces nearby were windows, designed to catch the light in such a way that it was clear that they were windows, but not to the extent that they obscured the goods displayed behind them. Goods which were predominantly clothing items for various species.
Alpha was actually surprised at how many clothes there were. Most of them were clearly designed for humans or vaguely human forms... Though perhaps not designed with typical human sensibilities Alpha thought to herself as she quickly glanced away from a rather interesting display, one which had yet to realize that it was possible to use mannequins that did not have intricate and detailed anatomy.
No one needed to see those many gills.
Besides the humanoid clothing choices, many shops appeared to cater to a more diverse selection of species, less common than they may be in this region of the galaxy. Though Alpha couldn't see Mrs. P purchasing any clothes herself.
Mrs. P's only article of clothing was a small pirate hat. It was only worn during special occasions, as it restricted the freedom of Mrs. P's ears. This led Alpha to wonder what they were doing strolling down an avenue filled with numerous clothing shops. It wasn't as if they were there to pick up a new outfit for Alpha.
Alpha's own clothes were projections, similar to that of her hair, but to suggest to her that they were equivalent is a recipe for a life insurance payout. She'd heard the "doesn't that technically mean you aren't wearing any clothes" thought a few times before, but never more than once from any individual foolish enough to raise it.
In fact, the idea that they were there to upgrade Alpha's wardrobe was even more absurd beyond the fact that it was nonexistent; Mrs. P would never go shopping for clothes when she could simply pirate them.
In this modern age of technological marvels, one could literally download a car, though with some assembly required. Compared to a hovercraft capable of short stints through the vacuum of space, an outfit was remarkably simple to pirate.
Mrs. P, being a pirate to her very bones, considered it to be a moral failing to not pirate goods when one could, and most of her crew felt the same way. To do so would be an affront to piracy itself. At least, if Mrs. P knew of it; which is why there existed a small smuggling operation operating under her willfully ignorant nose. One mostly sponsored by Madeline's addiction to authentic human clothing, Rebecca's insistence on supporting small businesses, and a chain of pirates more than willing to take their credits.
Alpha herself was unaware of this, and so wasn't properly surprised to see Mrs. P and Blood turning into one of the many gleaming storefronts, one whose windows were tinted a dark gold.
Mrs. P paused in front of it. Alpha wondered if Mrs. P planned to actually purchase anything that day. If so, Alpha would be expected to carry it. The city ostensibly had rather archaic restrictions on robotic porters and even more archaic expectations of servitude. Mrs. P had informed Alpha that they'd both stick out, more so than they already would, if neither had any formal "assistance".
Of course, to Mrs. P, the solution was crystal clear. Alpha would simply act as "assistance" to the much more regal Mrs. P and Blood. Alpha didn't mind herself, as she'd endured far worse quite recently at the hands of an addled smuggling captain, and secretly enjoyed pretending to be a posh assistant.
A romance novel she had read recently used a similar element as part of its poorly constructed plot, and now Alpha had a romanticized if rather naive, idea of what being an assistant meant.
Thankfully for her, Mrs. P herself had an even less informed perspective on what proper servitude looked like. However, maintaining that facade probably wasn't the real reason why she had brought Alpha along.
Alpha's had a growing suspicion of this, as surely one didn't actually need a dedicated porter to carry the goods one purchased. Why not just deliver them to one's residence (or ship) directly? In fact, Alpha hadn't seen anyone leaving any of the shops carrying bags.
Only time would tell, perhaps much sooner than anticipated, as Mrs. P entered the store, still riding atop Blood's cartoonishly muscular back.
Alpha paused briefly to read the name of the store: "Victorias' Secrets". Blinking back to the walking world, Alpha hurried inside.
That was an odd name, and Alpha's expansive memory suggested it may be related to an incredibly old chain of human stores called "Victoria's Secret™" that didn't quite survive humanity's diaspora across the galaxy. Perhaps it had-
Alpha's thoughts collided with a mental wall as her mind caught up to what her eyes were seeing.
Pausing at the threshold of the shop, she realized that the store wasn't quite as unrelated to Victoria's Secret™ as she had originally thought. She did a quick search against her internal knowledge banks and parsed the various garments across the store's spacious interior. A mirror nearby quivered in fear when Alpha's fuzzy gaze ran past it, her cheeks heating. Thankfully for its structural stability, she didn't catch the tint of her own face reflected in it.
What in the world was Mrs. P doing here? She didn't even wear clothes! Though as Alpha adverted her eyes from intimates that would fit a feline friend, she realized with dawning horror that it wasn't an impossibility.
In a sudden burst of empathy, accompanied by growing heat across her face, Alpha obtained an epiphany regarding Rebecca's peculiar treatment of Madeline's choice of dress.
Breathing deeply, which should give you a small appreciation for how advanced her synthetic body was, Alpha cleared her mind, which should give you a larger appreciation for how advanced Alpha's mind was.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Her state of calm lasted about as long as it took her to walk past another row of garments towards Mrs. P and Blood. It might have held for even longer had she not walked past a pair of garments barely covering a mannequin of a suspicious blue tint and a graciously curved figure eerily familiar and similar to Alpha's own characteristics.
As it was designed to do, the high-grade holographic display succeeded in injecting several distinctive thoughts into her calm mind, which promptly shattered into many small pieces, which should give you an appreciation of how advanced Alpha's mind really was.
Shaking her now near purple-faced head, Alpha hurried past the mannequin before she could see its own cervical area turning a similar color.
...
What? Don't you know what that means? It's the mannequin's neck; It doesn't have a head. That's what "cervix" literally means.
...
Oh...
...
Well, it's your stupid language, not mine. Let's agree to mutually forget this, shall we? And please, keep your head on straight.
It's a lingerie store for various species, and the only reason why Alpha's reacting this way is because she's got enough cross-species and cultural knowledge to be embarrassed by it. You'd just be confused by most of it. There's nothing to appreciate in it for you. I bet you don't even know what you'd do with the three sea shells, do you?
Oblivious to the narration gaffe, Mrs. P sat atop Blood's shoulders, talking with a dark-skinned attendant. Flustered as she was, Alpha didn't catch what was said. The fact that the attendant wore something that could easily be found in the shop was of no help either.
Nodding to Mrs. P, the attendant pressed a button behind the counter with a soft click. On silent hinges, the divide slid downward until it sat flush with the floor.
Alpha briefly wondered what sound it would make if it were to be opened the wrong way.
Without any hesitation, Blood deftly swept past the attendant, and Alpha attempted to follow closely behind. As most of her attention was spent on ensuring her eyes remained above a proper level, Alpha didn't notice the attendant's hand until she ran into it attempting to pass by.
"Ah, I apologize miss, but you must remain behind."
Alpha hesitated, her thoughts sent into disarray by the close proximity of many features she was trying to ignore, and the gentle touch of the dark hand below her own features.
Blood paused, and Mrs. P turned around atop his back.
"She's with me, Hecate," Mrs. P said with the authority of someone who expected this to resolve matters.
"Madam, the rules are quite clear. We have not cleared her, and so she may not enter."
Mrs. P's tail flicked, but if she had any further rebukes she did not raise them. Nodding, both to Alpha and the attendant, she pressed a gentle paw into Blood, who continued straight through a wall.
Of course, not even Blood could just walk through walls, so Alpha assumed it was a remarkably advanced holographic display. Alpha's own sensitive eyes couldn't pick up any distortion or hint that it was anything less or more than a wall, even as she flicked through the light spectrum.
Well, if it were up to Alpha to pick a place to put a secret entrance to somewhere nefarious (where else would Mrs. P go? Surely not someplace wholesome), a boutique for various specie's intimates would have probably been one of the last places she'd have chosen.
Which she figured made it a pretty good place to put it, as it would have also been one of the last places she'd look.
Blinking from her train of thought, Alpha realized the hand was still on her. She attempted to apologize as she backed away, but the words couldn't make it through the jumbled mess of her mind.
For a super-intelligent AI, especially one of Alpha's construction, it is remarkable how rattled she can become when placed in slightly uncomfortable social situations. She'd have been more at ease surrounded by a barrage of hostile fire. Note: this is not conjecture, she has been in several firefights that have done less to her composure than the barely clothed individual in front of her was doing now.
Hells, the vast majority of the garments weren't for forms Alpha might find aesthetically attractive, or even humanoids, and they were still playing havoc on her mental state. Many were nothing more than clothes on hangars, though the cycling images on the walls weren't doing her any favors.
Had she been in a more grounded mindset, she'd have realized that like the holographic display which resembled her own color and build, the displays across the walls were acutely measuring Alpha's flittering glances and reactions to various ensembles. All to provide her with a more personalized experience. The cumulative effect was an interior designed around Alpha's unconscious attentions, and that definitely wasn't helping.
Forcing her mind clear again, Alpha managed a polite node as she continued to step back. Stopping just before she hit the row of displays behind her. She may be out of sorts at the moment, but it would take much more than that to reduce Alpha's fine control over her motor functions and spatial awareness.
She wished such control extended to her more emotional functions but consoled herself with the fact that such emotional functions were imperceptible to others. Or so she would continue to think until she finally caught her own reflection during such a moment of high emotional duress. She will be surprised to learn that her entire color palette shifts in response to her mood.
As it were, Alpha considered herself to be remarkably composed for the situation, unaware that the attendant had watched her face turn from a pale blue to various shades of purple as she had followed behind Mrs. P.
Alpha gave the attendant, Hecate she assumed as that was a name Mrs. P had used, another nod and walked to the side of the store. There was a small section of plush seats of various sizes, and Alpha imagined they were oft sat in by those dragged along, likely unwittingly, by friends, partners, or eccentric pirate captains. How many poor souls like her had found solace in the comfort of the soft upholstery? A moment to close their eyes, and free themselves from the cacophony of stimulating visual stimuli?
Alpha added herself to their number as she sat on a large loveseat. It lacked any pillows, but the thick cushions were more than enough, even for Alpha's dense robotic frame. Maybe they had once had pillows. However one knows that all furniture either becomes oversaturated with various pillows or loses them all. Those dotting this seating area clearly fell under the latter.
Closing her eyes, Alpha's vision blurred as she dove into the digital domain. She didn't need to close her holographic eyelids, as she didn't actually "see" out her (also holographic) eyes, but it was a habit she'd picked up from her mother (the biological one). She debated attempting to find matches for some garments that she hadn't been able to recognize, but decided against it, as there was too large a potential for inflicting herself with (figuratively) cursed knowledge.
She already had plenty of that partitioned away, and didn't need to add any more pieces she'd need to clean up later. There was also the concern of literally cursed knowledge, but that wasn't too common and Alpha had safeguards in place against such.
Instead, Alpha directed a quick ping to Blood in an attempt to see both where, and what he and Mrs. P were doing. What in the world was a strange secret entrance doing inside a lingerie outlet? She received a quick, but automatic reply that Blood was no longer connected to the greater galactic web. Had she attempted to use more "morally questionable" means of connecting to Blood, she'd have realized that he was also no longer connected to the deeper, far darker galactic web of "hey, how in the hells did you get access to this".
Perhaps if she had capabilities to match my own, she'd have been able to see that...
...
Well, it's not often that I run into a barrier that can keep out even my own perception.
Regardless, Alpha found her inability to connect with Blood disconcerting. The only information she'd been provided with was that Mrs. P wanted to go "shopping", but what sort of shopping took place past a shielded and warded holographic not-a-wall door, especially one situated at the back of a "Victorias' Secrets" boutique?
Alpha had a moment of clarity, followed by an inward groan. Surely not? Though as a near-instant search revealed, it was indeed the case.
Victorias' Secrets, emphasis on the plural form of secret, didn't just sell intimates.
It also sold secrets.
Who could have guessed?
Alpha was surprised to find this information neatly displayed on the store's own homepage.
Though a secret selling location that could only be found by buying the knowledge of its existence from itself was probably not the best business strategy or the most logical proposition.
According to the website, almost every Victorias' Secret location across the galaxy traded in information.
Purchasing, or perhaps selling, intel fit with Alpha's mental picture of Mrs. P much more neatly than the horrifying alternative. With knowledge of the true reason behind their visit now made clear, Alpha felt herself relaxing. Surely no one would think her here to purchase one of the "horrifying alternatives".
However, her peace was not long for this world. Alpha felt the approach of the attendant and opened her eyes.
The attendant, dressed in very little, even though they had quite a bit to cover (by human sensibilities at least), smiled at Alpha, her large black eyes twinkling under the multitude of lights situated above.
Alpha's gaze, unfortunately quite expansive, was able to take in the entirety of the attendant's attire.
Embroidered neatly upon a dangerous place to let one's eyes linger, the name "Hecate" sat in swirled galactic-standard runes. Alpha's mental banks quickly identified Hecate's species, likely gender, and made a few notes of other noteworthy characteristics.
Hecate, likely feminine, wore two garments of what I will only describe as "laced". Of course, in her culture, neither would have been typical, as there were no external primary or secondary sexual characteristics for them to conceal. Not that this had any major effect on how Alpha perceived it. Her core was based primarily on a generalized concept of "human", and it often led to inconvenient effects when confronted with certain sensory inputs. Alpha tried not to think of how the black lace almost disappeared into Hecate's deep purple skin, or how the sparkling flecks of golden pigmentation drew her attention towards unmentionable characteristics. As you may be able to ascertain, she was not very successful at derailing this train of thought.
Again, Alpha empathized with Rebecca's distress over Madeline's choice of outfit. Such areas were prime grounds for cultural miscommunications, and Alpha had a suspicion that Madeline frolicked in them on purpose.
You might think Alpha is quite poor at managing her own mind given recent developments, however, this would be an unfair assessment based on incomplete information. You see, there were two substantial details Alpha was very successfully ignoring.
On a potentially related side note, many have pointed to the strange existence of common forms across multiple species of various evolutions as evidence of the existence of a greater power. Not only in more general details, such as being "humanoid" or "spidery", but as well as more specific features I'd rather leave unmentioned. What that said about the aforementioned greater power, was best left up to theologians after they all had (separate) cold showers. Maybe a few just to be safe.
In addition, Alpha was very successful ignoring two additional details she didn't want to acknowledge.
The first was a question that had passed from Hecate's dark red lips that Alpha hadn't quite been able to catch.
The second was a pair of... clothing... Clothing which appeared to match Alpha's own shape and hue, held aloft by two of Hecate's six arms.
Alpha blinked and focused her attention on Hecate's face. That was safe to look at. Well, it was almost safe to look at. It was quite a nice face, at least according to Alpha's tastes. I myself can't say.
Again, words passed from the lips Alpha was perhaps giving too much attention to and softly bounced off Alpha's head.
"Excuse me?" Alpha managed.
Hecate gave a soft laugh and leaned closer. Had she leaned even further, Alpha's unconscious and barely maintained control over the color of her face would have surely faltered.
"Do you want to try this on?" Hecate said.
Alpha blinked.
"I believe they should fit you, but I am unsure of your tastes," Hecate continued as she straightened up, briefly hefting the clothing Alpha didn't want to acknowledge in emphasis.
Alpha blinked again.