A day later, the Sliver was still within the shadow of Oliver’s World. Curving with the moon as it orbited the Duchess. The entire moon, once a vast desert, was now molten. It shone with a bright blue light. The light so strong, it illuminated the Duchess.
Looking at the Duke, a planet on the other side of the Empire system, and how it flicked out into darkness, the crew realised the Emperor and Empress redirected all light emitted from their opposite sides towards Oliver’s World.
The readings indicated a temperature of 12 000 degrees. The moon was losing its atmosphere, the high temperature particles could no longer be contained by the moon’s gravity. If the moon was allowed to cool down without further increase in temperature over the course of 55 days, it would lose 42% of its atmosphere.
The moon’s surface would be covered by cooled glass by then. The impurities within the glass have been sufficiently vaporised, so the glass would be perfectly clear. By standing on it then, you would be able to see 300 meters below the surface.
The molten moon reminded Matrioshka of Orcus. She closed her eyes, pacing on the bridge, before sitting down with a thump.
She spent the last 12 hours contemplating her purpose - a complex subject for Matrioshka. During her life she enjoyed periods of certainty, times when she went about her daily life with confidence and optimism.
Inevitably, she would get bored and seek out a new challenge. She opened a memory of hers, this one was created 7 days ago. On the last day of her previous job.
She was standing on a balcony, overlooking a large city on Jaerik. She had helped build the city over the last 500 years. There was an experiment, an exercise of sorts - To see how fast a group of minds from the Imperium could build a civilization with nothing but android bodies, without nanites.
More than 200 000 minds applied for the experiment, Matrioshka was among them. They were left on Jaerik, a verdant planet around a warm blue star called Ara. They began with basic stone tools, then dug mines and extracted iron.
They even simulated disease and death based on pre-space-age humans. The “dead” would return to the Imperium and spectate the rest of the experiment.
It took them 500 years in total to go from first wooden huts to Set-drive technology. With the creation of the Set-drive, the experiment was complete. Of the 200 000 starting participants. 32 000 made it to the end.
Nobody knew who Matrioshka was on Jaerik, and she knew not who the others were either. Everything was left behind when they landed on the planet - all past sadness and strife. Matrioshka was free for 500 years.
Nevertheless, during her last century on Jaerik, Matrioshka had longed to return. She missed space, the freedom, the vast emptiness.
It was why she joined the Subdirectory of Reconnaissance. She wished to explore. And if the price for exploration was the danger they were currently in, then so be it. Matrioshka rose from her chair and went to check up on her crew.
Makoe was in the process of analysing the Set-drive, she had gone to great lengths over the last 24 hours to confirm the drive will work smoothly when the new drive core was installed. Makoe completed the analysis, and began it once more. Matrioshka shook her head and knocked on Makoe’s door.
“Come in.” Makoe replied.
Matrioshka walked into Makoe’s room, where she saw Makoe sitting at her desk, hands flying over her typewriter. It had no practical purpose, it was merely a tool to keep Makoe’s hand busy, and judging by its shade of pin and pastel white - for the aesthetic.
Matrioshka smiled and said: “The drive is ready, Officer Rue. Relax.”
“I always found relaxing hard to do… especially when I could do something to help the situation. No time like the present to prevent future mistakes.” Makoe said after a sigh. She rose from her chair and looked at Matrioshka.
“Would you like a crêpe, captain?”
“Your comfort food?” Matrioshka asked as Makoe simulated a strawberry marmalade and chocolate foam filled crêpe.
Makoe nodded, her mouth already full of the sweet.
“Yes. I would like some.” Matrioshka replied, smiling.
Makoe waved a finger towards Matrioshka, a gesture accompanied by the simulation data sent directly to Matrioshka’s lattice. She accepted the data and ran it through a sim.
A white chocolate crêpe appeared in Matrioshka’s hand. She smelled it - there was a hint of lime, and took a bite.
It was a damn good crêpe.
“Scanned?” Matrioshka asked. Food came in three varieties, simulated, scanned and real. There was very little difference between the first two, you could either make food from scratch in a simulation or scan existing food. Real food was rarer, found only on larger colonies. You needed either an android, or a biological body to experience real food.
Matrioshka had eaten real food during her time on Jaerik. She had grown very fond of it. Nevertheless, Makoe’s crêpe was nice.
“Scanned indeed. It’s vintage data actually - originally scanned on Ganymede in the 2500’s.”
“Tasty. How are you holding up with all this?” Matrioshka asked.
Makoe was thoughtful, she ate her crêpe with a touch of worry now. She replied calmly after a few more bites:
“I’m angry.”
Matrioshka quirked an eyebrow: “At?”
“Damien, and The Emperor and Empress. But mostly Damien.”
Matrioshka was slightly surprised. “Understandable… although I don’t think it’s his fault Akira-Hope decided to kill him. He did break the law, stealing data. And his situation is infinitely more complicated now that his memories were erased. He technically cannot be tried for his crimes if he has no recollection of them.”
Huh. Explains why Akira-Hope sent mercenaries. Matrioshka thought.
They couldn’t punish Damien through proper channels… but wait, they were the ones to delete his memory in the first place…
Makoe noticed Matrioshka turned serious.
“What is it captain?” She asked.
“I don’t think Akira-Hope were the ones to delete Damien’s memory. He is either still lying, or is blaming Akira-Hope because of a lack of better suspects.”
“Gah!” Makoe yelled, exasperated. “Typical…”
“Typical?” Matrioshka asked.
Makoe’s eyes widened. “Yeah uh… typical for young minds to jump to conclusions…?”
Matrioshka could practically feel Makoe attempt to redirect. She thought about letting her do it.
No. My leniency with secrets has brought us enough trouble already.
“Officer Rue…” Matrioshka said, eyes serious and demanding.
Makoe squirmed under Matrioshka’s gaze. She adjusted her dress and looked pleadingly towards Matrioshka. Makoe’s blue eyes sparkling under her pink hair, asking for mercy.
Matrioshka held Makoe’s stare and tried to hold it laughter.
She failed.
“Wow, Makoe. You are comically cute.” Matrioshka said laughing.
“Comically? I’ll have you know; I am cute in the perfectly standard way!” Makoe said with her hands on her hips, acting indignant.
She was smiling though.
Matrioshka calmed and said: “I understand the desire for secrecy, but the moment we were attacked by sentient stars; things changed. Not to mention the situation with the Miriani… We need to be forthright with each other.”
“Hypocritical. Coming from you…” Makoe said, suddenly very serious.
“I…” Matrioshka went to rebuke but could find no reasonable argument. She was keeping things from the crew. Mostly her connection to Shkadov and its implications.
Matrioshka looked at Makoe, who now seemed much more mature than she usually let on.
“…you’re right.” Matrioshka said and closed her eyes. “I am the captain.”
Matrioshka gathered and ordered her thoughts. She decided to confide in Makoe, hoping Makoe would do the same. She learned time and time again, honesty paid off - but it never became easier to trust.
“Shkadov is my brother.” She said with a sigh and plopped down on a large mushroom shaped bean bag. “He killed our father.”
Makoe let out a small whistle and sat down, also on a mushroom shaped bean bag.
Matrioshka leaned back and stared at the ceiling. She continued:
“We were a big family; me, Shkadov, dad, the rest of my siblings. It happened so suddenly.” Matrioshka struggled to calm her breathing. “The rest of us were away, busy with our lives. Dad called me, said he wanted to talk about Shkadov.”
Makoe readjusted her seat and brought it closer to Matrioshka. She gently put her hand on Matrioshka’s shoulder - testing if it was ok.
Matrioshka let it happen. The gentle contact soothed her.
“I transmitted myself. Booted in our home and what I saw… my father dead, my brother above him… blood everywhere.” Matrioshka’s throat tightened, she strained to fight tears. Her lattice was at capacity.
“I did not understand what was happening. This was back when humans still used biological bodies. They had mind backup, yes. But they couldn’t be stored or installed on inorganics… Backups were dormant biological replicas, asleep in vats. I found out father’s backups were destroyed, just around the time of his death. Shkadov killed him, and his clones... True death.”
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“Captain…” Makoe said. “…you are damaging your lattice – draining too much power.”
Matrioshka checked and confirmed what Makoe was saying. She didn’t care. It hurt too much.
“I killed people Makoe.” Matrioshka said through tears. “I true killed… like Shkadov.”
Makoe was speechless for a moment and said: “This isn’t healthy captain. You are keeping too many things inside yourself. You’re… old. Things pile on if you aren’t careful. I’m only 650 and I need monthly pruning sessions to keep track of my psyche.”
Matrioshka just stared at the ceiling.
“Have you told anyone about this?” Makoe asked, her hand gentle on Matrioshka’s shoulder.
“Nobody knows it all. You don’t either.”
The only minds who knew everything about Matrioshka were her ex-crewmates on the Red Violin, her sister Bishop, and the current Director of Expansion. Not even the Imperator knew, though it could easily find out.
“I apologise for calling you a hypocrite. I was unaware.” Makoe said, expression sad.
Matrioshka cleared her throat and attempted to calm herself. She succeeded somewhat when Makoe began gently petting her.
Suddenly she felt like a cat. Matrioshka laughed.
Makoe went to retreat her arm, confusing laughter with displeasure. Matrioshka stopped her hand from moving away. She said:
“No, it’s okay. I don’t mind.”
Makoe considered her, then returned her hand to Matrioshka’s shoulder.
Matrioshka said: “I am glad I told you Officer Rue. It gets easier if I tell people - share the burden?”
“It does get easier, much easier if the people you share with are friends. And please, when we are alone - call me Makoe.”
Matrioshka smiled at the pink haired woman. “I will. Thank you, Makoe.”
There was a silence. Matrioshka was suddenly very aware of Makoe’s hand.
“Um... what about you and Damien?” Matrioshka asked, hoping to clarify some things.
Makoe nodded. “He is my son.”
“WHAT!?” Matrioshka screamed, rising from her seat. It startled Makoe, who did a backflip out of her seat. They stood now, facing each other.
“He is your son!? How…. I mean what?” Matrioshka blurted.
“Yeah! He is! I don’t know how!” Makoe was confused for a moment. ”I mean I know how he is my son... what was your question?”
Matrioshka shook her head, smiling at Makoe. “How is it that you are on a mission with your son - who does not seem to know you are his mother?”
“Ah.” Makoe said. They had both calmed from the initial shock, and Makoe gestured they sit down again. They did.
“Lots of death talk today… I died too.” Makoe said. “It was around 80 years ago, made a mistake on the job - overwhelmed the Set-drive I was working on. When the ship jumped, we did not appear within the expected timeframe. Like with all Set-drive disappearances lasting longer than 40 years; I was pronounced dead.”
Matrioshka listened intently.
“A backup was booted and continued living. Her name – the name I used to have, is Corella Viris. I returned from the Set 35 years ago. Upon my return to the universe, reality had to make a choice – who was the real Corella?”
When two identical minds were booted, from backups for example, the universe exacted the No-cloning theorem; one of the minds would experience a change in personality and its structure – It would become a new consciousness.
“The universe chose the other me. She retained her personality and the right to be Corella Viris… even though I was the original. I contacted her, to see if maybe she wanted me in her life. She did not.”
Makoe look at Matrioshka. “It is why I am here. I called in a favour with the Subdirector of Recon. I knew Damien was going on a mission and I wanted to join him.”
Matrioshka sensed Makoe wanted to say something more, but was hesitant.
“And?” Matrioshka nudged.
“I don’t know what I expected but… I feel like a fraud. Damien is here, living his life – a reckless and dangerous life. But a life nonetheless. And I am here - an old woman, grasping at the past.”
Matrioshka took Makoe’s hand in her own.
“We should move on?” Matrioshka asked.
Makoe nodded and said weakly: “We should.”
“It’s hard.” Matrioshka said, clutching Makoe’s hand harder.
“It is… How do we do it?” Makoe asked.
Matrioshka answered with more questions: “We rely on each other? We talk when it gets hard?”
Makoe nodded, her eyes glistening from barely supressed tears, Matrioshka’s red eyes were still teary as well.
She looked at Makoe, the curve of her eyes, her pink hair, the shape of her nose and lips.
“Self-designed appearance?” Matrioshka asked Makoe.
“Yes. I based it vaguely on my previous face, though I am now much more colourful.”
“It’s pretty.” Matrioshka said before she could catch herself.
Makoe smiled gently, noticing the panic in Matrioshka’s eyes. “Thank you Matrioshka.” She replied.
Suddenly it registered in Matrioshka’s mind; they were holding hands. She got flustered and retreated her hands. “I should go check up on the others.” Matrioshka stood up.
“Hey captain?” Makoe asked.
Matrioshka turned to her. “Yes?”
“We rely on each other, right?”
Makoe was still sitting in her mushroom bean bag, a small visage of a great mind.
“We rely on each other.” Matrioshka answered and dematerialized, appearing on the bridge.
“It’s pretty.” Wow I am a mess today. Matrioshka thought shaking her head gently. Her conversation with Makoe made her reflective. Old minds accumulated many memories, not all of them happy, after many centuries it became difficult to sort them all out. Particularly due to the blessing of perfect recall.
Sometimes, forgetting was a gift.
Matrioshka often considered deleting her own trauma, but always backed out before going thought with it. It made her miserable – she ached every day. But in truth she was afraid what would become of her if she did.
Oliver’s World shone through the bridge window. She watched it, and idly checked on Rhea.
She was in her room as well, creating behavioural models for the Miriani. The DNA she collected on Neria station allowed Rhea to ascertain how the Miriani acted, their priorities and way of thinking. Matrioshka watched it all through their connection. In a way it was like Matrioshka was doing the work herself.
Damien was busy too; he was finally finishing the system wide analysis. The model he created would allow certain predictions - Like how habitable each object was, how much effort it would be to terraform it and so forth.
They could even predict habitability in the far future, say 7 billion years from now when the Emperor and Empress became red giants. Prudence would be cooked by then, the Duchess too. Maybe one of the King’s moons would become habitable.
“Come on.” Damien whispered to himself. He was currently pointing the sensors at Rosamond’s World, which was still behind the Duchess, it would emerge within 5 minutes and Damien would be able to complete the model.
At which point, if no other anomalies were detected, the Sliver of the Sun would prioritize fixing the Set-drive, and return to the Imperium with a tentatively completed mission. Their expedition would be followed by vessels from various other Subdirectories and Directories. Within 50 years the system would be developed; terraforming completed where need be, space elevators and mass drivers built.
Colonists would flock then; each new colonised system offered a fresh start, and in an empire as old as the Imperium, fresh starts were in demand.
This system was different though; it housed the remnants of a dead civilization, and the AI responsible for killing them. Matrioshka hoped the Imperator would find a peaceful resolution to what will most certainly be a tense first contact and subsequent negotiation.
Well, we already had first contact. Maybe second contact. Matrioshka thought and checked on the final member of her crew.
PesKal was floating in the centre of his room, gently bobbing up and down in the flowing water. He held a wooden stick with his tail and used it to write on a large piece of dried kelp.
He was the youngest member of the Sliver’s crew, and he was an Ankrahi. Matrioshka wondered how he felt about the Miriani.
She decided to ask.
Matrioshka formed within the airlock to PesKal’s room, she looked through the glass and waved at PesKal. He seemed delighted to have a visitor. He activated the airlock which began cycling out atmosphere and pumping in water.
Matrioshka considered the water and decided to turn into an Ankrahi. She accessed the data packs and from them designed a blueprint for her new body.
Matrioshka’s red hair retracted into red fins, her feet sprouted webbed fingers, and a tail grew out of her lower back. Her eyes adjusted and she swam into the room. Alongside a new body, she also installed interfaces which generated feelings and emotions based on Ankrahi thought patterns.
Essentially, Matrioshka became a simulated Ankrahi.
She looked at herself using the Sliver’s internal sensors. Matrioshka had used the female template to create this body, so she had red patterns across her body, instead of just a deep blue. She turned to PesKal, who was staring.
“Your eyes. They’re red.” he said.
“Indeed. The records did not show any mention of there being red eyed Ankrahi, but I though why not keep something of myself.” Matrioshka said and immediately realised it had been a mistake. PesKal was staring too deeply.
“You are correct. There aren’t any… usually. They do get red when we start to die from the Red Ache.”
The Red Ache was the latest plague which swept across Ankraha - a few years before the Imperium discovered it. It must have had a deep impact on PesKal, who was exhibiting signs of distress.
Dammit. I look like a living corpse to him. She thought and turned her eyes into a soft yellow some Ankrahi females have.
“Sorry, Officer PesKal.”
“It is forgiven. I wish I did not react like I did, but my daughter died from the Red Ache. She also had red coloration like you do now.” PesKal said swimming up to Matrioshka.
And now I remind him of his dead daughter. Great. Matrioshka decided to change the subject. She pointed to the leaf PesKal was writing on.
“A form of traditional note-keeping?” Matrioshka asked.
“Yes. Does it look strange? What did humans use for note-keeping when they were at the Ankrahi technology level?” He asked.
“Interestingly, the Ankrahi were ahead in this regard; Humans used various dyes to paint on cave walls. Though we cannot know for sure. No sensitive artifacts, such as dried leaves, survived until humans started more permanent record keeping.”
PesKal was fascinated. He swam closer to Matrioshka.
“And what did humans do better than the Ankrahi?” PesKal asked, very close to Matrioshka. So close in fact, she decided to check what was going on.
The data packs suggested this was normal Ankrahi behaviour, they enjoyed closeness with other members of their species. Even among strangers. Matrioshka decided to upgrade her Ankrahi interface, at least until she returned to her normal human form. The current one was basic, and didn’t influence her thoughts, merely informed them.
Matrioshka prepared the interface and installed it.
Feeling her mind adapt, she looked at PesKal.
Grand megastructures…. Matrioshka thought.
PesKal was tall, cloaked with muscles, his eyes were kind and inquisitive. He swam with a gentile confidence which reminded Matrioshka of a crisp spring stream. His coloration was perfect - pure. He was in good health and capable of guiding a community.
Matrioshka shook her head. The interface was too strong, she toned it down.
“Captain?” PesKal asked, voice concerned.
“I’m good. Problems with the interface – emotions were set too high.” she replied.
“If you kept true to the data within the Sliver’s data-packs - you should have felt the correct emotional intensity.” PesKal concluded. “I believe Ankrahi emotions are on average 70% more intense than human.”
“You live like this!? How are you sane?” Matrioshka asked, shocked.
“It is normal for us; an important part of our upbringing is learning how to remain calm in most situations. It is difficult. But besides making bad emotions worse, it makes the good ones better – a lot better.”
“How are you feeling then? With this whole Miriani and Fifth Wonder situation?” Matrioshka asked with genuine concern.
PesKal swam to his leaf bed and covered himself comfortably. Matrioshka didn’t know why, but she followed him into the bed. It was snug and warm, it made her feel complete and protected. PesKal saw her expression and said:
“It is the kelp. The Ankrahi feel the safest when they are hidden between the leaves, especially if they are not alone…”
They were both covered in greenery, the water cyclers introduced a steady rhythm to the otherwise quiet room. PesKal was still thoughtful and Matrioshka let him be for a few moments. Then she asked:
“Officer PesKal?”
He startled. “Oh! Apologies, it has been some time since I joined the Subdirectory, and I haven’t had much contact with other Ankrahi since. I was reminiscing.”
PesKal twisted his tail, a gesture to indicate concertation. “Now to answer your question captain; I am in despair. Of the five sentient races the Imperium has discovered, only three have currently living specimens; humans, Ankrahi and the Arioa. Two have gone extinct, or are nowhere to be found; the Precursors and now the Miriani.”
“Furthermore, the rate at which the Imperium is discovering planets with multicellular life is increasing exponentially. This is consistent with the gradual increase in top Set-drive speed, which allows the Imperium to expand faster.”
“What troubles me is the discovery rate of living sentient life. It is stagnating at 1 per 550 years, and is starting to slow further.”
His face scrounged slightly as he continued: “The discrepancy is growing. There are too many dead species. We are missing something – the true reason there aren’t more alien empires out there.”
Matrioshka thought back to the Red Violin, the first discovery of the Precursors, and what she and the others discovered.
The truth of the universe.
Matrioshka could say nothing, she was bound. All she did was nod.
“So there… I am in despair and I am afraid of the unknown.”
“PesKal…” Matrioshka said weakly. “I’m sure the Imperium will discover the truth. It is only a matter of time.”
“I hope you are right.” PesKal said and focused on Matrioshka. “Thank you for listening, captain.” PesKal smiled. He had a nice smile.
Wait. If everyone on this ship is hot… Am I hot too? Matrioshka thought.
Before her thoughts could spiral deeper into absurdity, Damien sent her an emergency ping. She didn’t even say goodbye to PesKal, she promptly uninstalled her Ankrahi interface and appeared next to Damien.
He was on the bridge, at his console, staring at the window.
The window currently displayed a close up of Rosamond’s World. Its atmosphere was blue; 41% Neon, 29% Nitrogen, 12% Argon, 15% Oxygen, 3% trace gases at 18 degrees Celsius.
Its northern hemisphere was a vast desert, with a small polar ice-cap. The southern part of the moon was a different story:
A large ocean covered the south pole and reached a further 12 degrees towards the equator. It was encircled by a green belt - vegetation.
Rosamond’s World had life. Judging by the trace gases in the atmosphere, it had complex and abundant life.
Wordlessly, Damien zoomed in on the coast of the southern ocean.
Matrioshka saw roads, buildings, and sailing ships. Hundreds of cities. Multiple civilizations.
There was no chance another sentient species evolved within the system; this was a colony of the system’s true inhabitants.
The Miriani survived.