The rabbit-horse neighed back at Yim’s mansion, complaining about the lack of feed. It had munched on all the hard fruit Bemri had prepared for it some hours ago. Makoe laughed, using a partition in PesKal’s lattice to produce a small craft that would bring the statelite, and the crew’s connection, up towards space.
Makoe was working underground, some distance away from the workshop. She had disassembled the Atomic Press within the black nanite box and moved it through the subterran tunnel towards the empty space she had dug out.
Bemri was the first to wake from the short sleep. He quietly left the sleeping pod and watched the snoozing Yim. He spoke a short prayer to the stars, asking them for their blessings and protection over his master.
Bemri then went to prepare some drinks. Tea, it seems, was universal. PesKal scanned its contents and noted his own Ankrahi tastes would fit well with the brew. He decided to recreate a cup of his own in the virtual and float above the table where Bemri sat.
Yim woke soon after that, called by the sweet smell of the tea. He stumbled into the kitchen and grabbed a cup, plopping down on a pillow.
“Rough morning, Master Yim?” Bemri asked, bringing out a few dried cookies.
PesKal scanned the starchy protein plates. They had some dried fruit within, but as far as Miriani-Ankrahi compatibility went, the tea was all PesKal would enjoy. His face scrunched as Yim grabbed and ate one of the cookies.
“Didn’t sleep well,” explained Yim through a mouthful. “The cube kept me awake.”
“No good will come of it,” said Bemri.
Yim’s gaze turned tired. “You made your position abundantly clear. Now tell me this: how will we ever get out of this hole if not with drastic action?”
PesKal looked to Bemri, excited for the answer. If he was to guide Yim, he needed to know as much as possible. The mansion provided an infuriating lack of information. PesKal was grateful his crewmates provided accounts of their discoveries.
“I don’t know, Master,” Bemri looked saddened. “But if the Protectorate were to find out…”
“Let them come! I’m done playing by the rules. Look what that did to my parents.” Yim stood and poured another cup of tea. “I will be in the workshop. Don’t bother me.”
As Yim slammed the door shut, Bemri sighed and whispered, “Yes. As you wish, Master Yim.”
PesKal followed the young inventor and decided it was time to provide some guidance. PesKal brought his nanites around a table at one end of the workshop. There, he created a parchment with some curious descriptions of a rotary generator.
He pulled at it and other stacks of paper near it. The papers fell to the ground, and Yim jumped.
“Ah!” he said, looking towards the sound. He clicked with his teeth and approached to pick the papers up. He paid them little mind, opening a nearby drawer and putting them inside.
PesKal’s fins quivered, and he decided to dismantle the drawer in question. It clunked inside the cabinet.
Yim turned and peered at the new sound. “What now?”
He opened the drawer, pulling only on the outside panel. He saw the papers and the wood. Screws clattered onto the floor.
Yim’s ears curled in disbelief. He kneeled to collect the papers. “This entire house is falling apart.”
This time around, he paid a little more attention to what he was touching. The new paper sparked his interest. Yim read it over a couple of times. “What in the Giant’s name is this?”
He brought the paper to a table and pulled an old stool closer, sitting atop it. He flicked on a switch, and a dull orange lightbulb flared to life. Over the next few minutes, PesKal watched with joy as Yim created the diagram of a generator, one which could create alternating current.
“If this could be moved here…” Yim made another connection. “Then—then this could bring current over grander distances yet. Maybe even from one end of a city to another.”
Pulling open an old closet and coughing at the dust which sprang forth, Yim searched for materials. PesKal had already made an inventory of the workshop and knew what Yim needed. Under an old iron chassis, PesKal created a copper wire—made of nanites, naturally, yet mimicking the properties of copper perfectly.
There was a pause as Yim saw the wire. He grabbed it and went to coil it around a disk. Soon, there was a working AC generator in Yim’s workshop. Yim placed his hand on a crank, ready to turn, and PesKal was glad to see him reconsider.
Yim cleaned the desk around the generator, moving any stray metal away. He checked his shoes for holes. None were present—he was insulated from the ground. Finally, he took a piece of cloth into his hand and began to power the generator.
Yim smiled when he saw a small dial on a device within the circuit fly left to right. He turned the generator slower, then faster, and noted the change in frequency.
PesKal told Makoe, “The Miriani have rediscovered alternating current!”
“Congratulations, PesKal!” said Makoe as she took a short break from her work. She flew over and into the workshop, peered at the generator, and asked, “How far was he from discovering it on his own?”
“That would depend on how likely Yim was to return to past failures,” explained PesKal. “He had made a fatal assumption early, back when he was designing the battery—it led him away from alternating current.”
Makoe was listening to something far away. She was in two places currently, in PesKal’s virtual and her own body, talking to Temri and her crew. She looked worried and said, “Yim might be getting some visitors soon.”
“Who?” asked PesKal.
“Temri and her crew. They think Yim would sell them a bomb… Would he?”
PesKal scanned the workshop. There were indeed substances here that, if combined correctly, would result in a lot of potential thermal energy. “It is likely. Yes.”
Makoe asked, “And uh... What is Yim doing now?”
PesKal turned and saw Yim hunched over a small burning candle, his heartbeat racing. In his hands, Yim held the paper created by PesKal, and he brought it over the fire.
The nanites did not burn. PesKal rushed to simulate burning—nanites moved away from the fire, turning red and charring black.
Yim’s hands trembled. He threw the paper away and turned towards the large black cube.
His Miriani eyes were wide, ears curled. He whispered, “You forgot about the smell.”
Makoe whistled. “Busted.” She grinned at PesKal, whose face was turned in horror.
PesKal’s fins quivered. “Oh no. Coiling rivers no!”
Makoe comforted him. “Well, he doesn’t know anything concrete yet, does he? You will be fine.”
Both were alerted by a group of 12 Miriani at the mansion’s door. They came on rabbit-back; a couple of squires held the creatures back as the Miriani dismounted. They wore steel and gold, with images of dancing stars on their chests. Thanks to their captain’s information, they knew it was the Binary Protectorate.
They were led by one of the apostles that visited the palace with the High-Cardinal. The apostle was female, middle-aged, and filled with the juices of excitement.
The group approached the door and banged on it thrice.
The sound made Yim jump and look away from the cube. His ears curled, and he brought a large blanket over PesKal’s cube. He took a step or two back and shook his head.
He told the box, “Don’t go anywhere.”
PesKal pointed at Yim. “He knows.”
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Makoe shrugged. “How could he know? He knows nothing. Just that some paper didn’t smell as it burned.”
Bemri was at the door already. He peered outside through a small spy-hole. His breath caught in his throat. He called for his master and opened the door.
“Welcome, dear visitors. May the night be as blessed as ever,” Bemri said, and bowed gently to the apostle.
“I am Thaira, the 2nd Servant of the High-Cardinal, here on official business.”
Yim managed to reach the door. He had yet to change his clothes from yesterday. The Servant took note of this, her ears curling.
Yim bowed and said, “Welcome, esteemed protector. How may we help you?”
Thaira peered at the state of Yim’s home. She looked at him, then said, “We need to search your property.”
“Why?” asked Yim.
The Servant smiled. “You needn’t know that, sir Alm.”
Bemri looked to Yim calmly and patted him on the shoulder. “Of course,” said the butler. “Feel free to go as you please.”
Yim’s heart began to race.
“Onwards, people. Search everything,” commanded Thaira.
The protectorate spread out across the estate, rummaging through all they could get their hands on. One of the men brought down a wooden crate from atop a closet. It fell to the ground, some of the vegetables inside squishing and spilling their juices on the floor. The man grunted and opened the closet, pulling out aged robes and checking all their pockets.
The Miriani of the Protectorate entered the workshop and peered at the room with shock. One of the women approached a glowing lightbulb and touched it with her sword. She looked to the other Miriani in confusion, whispered, “Chained light,” and walked back to the Servant.
“Ma’am, there is something you should see.”
Thaira looked to the woman and back towards Bemri and Yim. She followed the woman into the workshop and stood still once they were inside.
Yim rushed inside and went to explain, “Well, you see, I found it in—”
PesKal’s cube was gone, hidden beneath the floor within Makoe’s tunnel.
Yim laughed to himself, eyes growing wide and ears vibrating. “These are my inventions. I am an inventor.”
“Yes, I am aware of your family’s exploits.” Thaira raised her hand toward a group of Miriani who had turned over a table to inspect it for hidden compartments. They all stopped and looked to the Servant.
“Leave this room be.”
“Thank you,” said Yim, exhaling.
Thaira looked him over. “Thank the late King. His outstanding order to let your lineage tinker as you wished is the bane upon this world. Light protect you. You lost your soul.” The woman clasped her hands and muttered a short prayer. Bemri joined her.
Yim had enough of all this and said, “Well then, please leave?”
Thaira asked one of the Miriani who had just walked down from the floor above, “Anything?”
The man’s left ear coiled. “Nothing, your excellency.”
The Servant's teeth clicked. “We are going,” she announced, and quietly she whispered to Yim, “Be sure to stay out of trouble. The only reason you enjoy such liberties is because the current King knows not of your endeavours.”
Yim’s heart skipped a beat. He clasped his hands, gaze downturned.
The rest of the Protectorate collected themselves and mounted their animals. Soon, they moved away from the estate.
“Exciting,” said Makoe, watching them move away.
“Worrying,” PesKal said, just as he had returned his cube back to the workshop.
Yim rushed back in. He stared at the cube. “You’re back…” he said. “Wait here.”
The young inventor ran to the first floor. He pulled back a painting and produced a key from within its frame. He moved back to the workshop and unscrewed a glowing lightbulb. There was another key hidden within.
“I had wondered why that was there,” PesKal said, as he followed Yim in the virtual.
Bemri had calmed himself from the incursion. He laid eyes on Yim, who had just taken a shovel from the closet.
“Some yard work, young master?” the butler asked.
Yim grinned and flashed the two keys towards the man.
Bemri’s ears curled. “No, Yim! You must not!”
Yim ran for the door, opened it, and spied the Protectorate. They had just crested the road on the hill that led to the mansion. They were out of sight now. Yim walked out just before Bemri could catch him.
The older man was slow. An old injury made his left leg stiff and disobedient.
“Master Yim!” he yelled on the door’s precipice.
“I will be back soon!” said Yim. Makoe and PesKal flew after him, using the data from a small sensory insect PesKal had produced to generate their surroundings.
“Where is he going?” asked Makoe.
“Unclear. I have never seen the young master leave the house.”
“Right. You’ve got this, I’m sure. I need to focus on the press,” said Makoe, and left the virtual, retreating back to the small factory she had assembled in the forest.
Yim had made quite a trek into that same forest, yet his distance from Makoe and PesKal’s lattice continued to increase. It was at this time the nanite sensors began to lose data. PesKal had to limit the information transmitted to just basic images and audio—no microscopic vision, no electromagnetic sensors.
The young inventor panted as he finally stopped running. He rested his back on a thick tree, and a red leaf fell upon the Miriani’s head. Yim swatted it away with his ear and looked towards the ground.
PesKal landed atop a nearby branch, watching.
Yim put the shovel to the ground and pushed, heaving dirt and stone. Some minutes later, his shovel struck something large, and as Yim pulled it out with dirtied hands, PesKal saw that it was a chest.
Two keys entered separate locks and opened the crate. Yim’s hands were gentle and measured, yet his mind trembled with anxiety. He took a deep breath and peered inside. PesKal flew closer to see what was inside.
Atop a stack of a dozen or so papers stood a diamond cube—identical technology to the one Matrioshka found on Oliver’s World. This was pre-Miriani-collapse information, crucial to the Sliver’s mission.
Next to it stood a smooth metallic sphere, copperish in color, with a distinct yellow shine around its edges.
Yim exhaled as he took in the sight. He pulled out a cloth napkin from his jacket and cleaned his hands. Carefully, he placed the diamond cube into his pocket—it barely fit inside. The papers he folded neatly and placed in his bag, alongside the unknown sphere. A falling branch spooked Yim, and he took off running back, discarding the shovel.
“Any ideas what this could be, captain?” PesKal asked.
Matrioshka considered the images. “Much-needed data is on the cube. As for the sphere, I have no idea. Scan them fully once they are within range.”
PesKal instructed the nanite insect to follow Yim, and he returned to the workshop. He had a small amount of time before the young inventor returned, so PesKal decided to rearrange the workshop.
Taking care not to alert Bemri to his antics, PesKal carefully cleaned the room. Stacks of papers were arranged neatly into folders and placed within cabinets and shelves. Tables were made to be parallel or orthogonal. A lightbulb was replaced on the ceiling, finally illuminating a previously dark part of the workshop.
PesKal inspected the room in VR, and happy with the result, he placed seventeen treasures around the room. Small pieces of information, written in Yim’s handwriting, which would bring the inventor closer to another branch of the technological tree.
Yim was back. He ran through the kitchen, where the butler was starting to prepare food.
“Young master!” Bemri was scandalized by the dirt brought in under Yim’s shoes. “Shoes off in the house!”
“I dismissed that rule the moment my parents died, Bemri!” yelled back Yim as he opened the door to the workshop. He gazed at the arranged and clean space.
“I admit you are a wizard at cleaning!” he yelled back. “But don’t. Touch. My. Things!”
Yim slammed the door shut and approached the cube. He pulled out a small table and pillow and placed both just in front of PesKal’s cube. Yim sat and peered at the black matted object he had seen fall from the heavens.
He pulled out the diamond storage device and set it on the table. He unfurled the papers too and settled the sphere next to it. It started to roll off the table. Irked, Yim used the napkin from his pocket to stabilize the sphere.
PesKal floated over in the virtual and scanned the objects.
Yim was anxious. He looked between the diamond and the sphere, occasionally glancing towards PesKal’s cube.
Matrioshka saw the diamond block was indeed a storage device, similar technology to the one she found on Oliver’s World, maybe older by a decade. She saw PesKal request a device that could read the information from it, but then decided against it. If he could bring the diamond just a little bit closer, he could read the quantum states of the Cooper-pairs which held the data. He would have to decrypt the data inside. But this technology was laughably primitive compared to Imperial technology – it wouldn’t take him more than an hour.
The papers were letters between Dend-Hayn Kray-Harawan, the previous king of Rosamond’s World, and Ju Alm, Yim’s father. They spoke of the Binary Protectorate, of how they held the thought about the world hidden. The king had petitioned Yim's father to help solve this mystery, promising him fame and fortune in return. The pair had conspired to understand the two objects laying on the table, believing they held the key to the first Heaven—the key to Prudence.
Finally, PesKal turned to the sphere.
Nothing.
Matrioshka saw PesKal try to debug his sensors. He read 100% functionality. Confused, PesKal cycled them all. Nothing changed when they turned back on. The sphere was a void of information. It only reflected the electromagnetic spectrum.
Matrioshka recognized something within the depth of her mind. She brought her attention fully to Yim’s workshop.
PesKal had isolated the infrared radiation and matched it to a temperature. The temperature hovered around 34.5 degrees Celsius—exactly the temperature of this room. It increased and decreased with the normal patterns of thermal instability.
Matrioshka took a deeper look into the infrared radiation. Its temperature oscillated after the fourth decimal—once every 0.1762 seconds. PesKal had noticed this too, and he started to compare the ratios of the oscillations.
He shared his lattice with Makoe, and Matrioshka throttled her lattice to 100%. In less than a nanosecond, she realized the sphere was listing the digits of the fine-structure constant. The value tweaked all other constants of the physical world and brought about the laws of the universe.
It was currently at the 40,877,868,823,412,077th digit.
PesKal was nearing the same conclusion.
Matrioshka halted the execution of PesKal’s lattice. She installed an interface to block out all attempts at deciphering the artifact. She appeared in the Ankrahi’s virtual.
PesKal looked at her, his face scrounged in shock. He saw the forcefully installed interface and said, “Why did you do that, captain?”
Matrioshka was sad. She held her arm up and said, “Sorry, Officer PesKal. But I am restricting access to this object.”
PesKal shrunk under Matrioshka’s intense gaze. “W- Why?”
“This—” she was about to spin some lie. What stopped her was the realization that while she did have some obligation to the Imperator and all sentience across the universe, she could spare a drop of truth for her crewmate.
“This is Precursor technology,” Matrioshka said. “I will need to seize this.”
Matrioshka took control of a portion of PesKal’s nanites and grabbed hold of a closet just outside the workshop. She yanked it to the floor, the sound of the clattering was overwhelming. Yim jumped up and rushed towards the source of the sound.
Matrioshka grabbed the sphere with nanites and formed a large crowbat. The crowbat carried the sphere within its body and flew towards the palace.
PesKal had taken a couple of steps back away from Matrioshka. His fins quivered, and he was standing low. Matrioshka saw the breach of trust in his eyes. She sighed and said, “I am so sorry, PesKal.”
Matrioshka left his virtual and retreated back to her body.
But this must be done.