Tedet pressed the button and we waited. The loud rumbling sound gradually disappeared throughout the minutes. We stood there without being able to talk. Not only was the sound completely drowning out our voices, but there was no way we could communicate with radio thanks to my wizard ability — or should I say, disability — to screw up radio waves.
And, so, we waited for almost an hour until the sound completely disappeared and the light in the panel had turned from yellow to green. We waited for Tedet to talk to us only for him to begin waving his arms. I tried speaking on the radio, but of course, it didn’t work. This was to be expected, but the earlier conversation with Martin made me think a vacuum would isolate my powers, yet it seems they didn’t do so completely, and it still affected us somehow.
Tedet gave up the radio and simply gave us a signal before pressing a button.
The hatch before us slowly opened to the infinite void. The moment it did, I felt a chill in my spine.
I approached the edge and looked down towards my feet, beyond the end of the floor. The star-speckled black simply opened wide below my feet. I felt vertigo spin me around. Without a clear up or down I suddenly felt like I was falling. I lost my sense of direction.
My panicked voice only sounded louder within my suit and, with no other sound but the ones coming from within or touching my suit, I heard and felt something grabbing my arm. I turned to look at my lover, Martin. He opened his hands, palms looking down at his feet, and moved them up and down. I saw his face beyond our visors, thanks to the lighting inside the room, and read his lips: ‘Calm down,’ he said.
I understood everything that was happening to me, and knew nothing bad was really going to happen, but my instincts yelled out in panic. ‘You’re falling, you’re gonna die,’ they screamed.
Humans weren’t made for space — or at least I am not.
But both Tedet and Martin held on to my arms and guided me towards the outside — the outside outside. The real outside. Outer space.
Our vectoring systems, using compressed gasses, guided us gently towards the structure right at the opposite side of that opened door. The ship that I couldn’t see through the cabin window or through the camera on a screen. Now, the black structure painted by the sunbeam finally revealed itself before us, like a placid painting in the starry background.
A ship so large, it put to shame any construction on the surface of Sovail. So vast, it was a city on its own.
This marvel of science and engineering was simply floating in outer space, orbiting the main star, dead.
It had once hosted millions of people on a journey between solar systems, across the hostile emptiness of space. Thick metal plating was the only thing keeping the people inside from dying from depressurization.
As we floated closer, the city-sized ship became increasingly bigger. The journey towards the ship was even longer than the time the hatch took to pull a vacuum on us. It was as if we were falling slowly into the superstructure of the ship. Every detail became more and more complex. Every relief was becoming apparent as we got closer, revealing even more relieves within the relieves.
It took the better part of two hours before we finally managed to see every seam, rivet, and soldering from all the metal plating. The black metals revealed their color to be due to something else than painting. It's possible it was thinly oxidized, deliberately, to avoid reflectiveness, or it was a simple reaction due to radiation over the centuries.
Curiosity at the back of my head wanted to know which ship was this. There were no markings outside the ship that portrayed its name. Even when I wanted to guess, I couldn’t. We all thought every one of these ships was scrapped and recycled. I wondered when I’d be able to figure it out.
When we finally reached the specified location of a hatched on the ship, my magnetic boots locked themselves to the ship, making for an awkward stumbling trod over its superstructure.
While Tedet took its time to power and override the hatch of the ship, I decided to bask in this miraculous ordeal.
I straightened my back and directed myself to the ship we came from, but the sun was so bright I could not muster to look back, even with special filters on my visor. Instead, I looked at the artificial horizon formed by the ship and that was when I realized my size in the universe.
Just how small were we? But incredible can we be that this is what we’re capable of.
It made me think of the glorious and inglorious past of humanity. At that time, we were capable of doing these advancements, and we are no longer doing them. I had to admit that the only reason we did them was due to emergencies. It seemed like humans only do great things out of necessity and not out of passion and love.
War advances technology and science. Famine advances technology and science. And almost complete ecocide of an entire planet was what brought advances in technology and science.
How pathetic.
As if Tedet was waiting for me to finish my monologue, he opened the hatch to the ship, and we prepared for the forced adventure we were assigned to do. Or more like, the one I was assigned to do, but that had dragged both my best friend and lover with me.
We stepped inside and before we could let our magnetic boots take the initiative on our first step of intelligent life on a space ghost ship, something pulled our feet down.
The familiar sensation came out of nowhere, completely unexpected. None of us thought this could even happen. Hell, we’d say this was impossible.
Somehow, our feet were forced to the ground by some invisible force. The naïve would call this magic, scientists had known it for millennia as gravity.
Me? I called them both.
But what was even more magical, was the unexpected comment from Martin. This was the truly impossible. This was the magic behind everything.
“We have air,” he said. And we heard it.
After a second of shock, I couldn’t help but burst out into laughter. It made no sense. It was ridiculous. My brain couldn’t take much more of the absurdity and gave up trying to understand, resulting in a fit of laughter.
“Air pressure is at one atmosphere. Oxygen levels are at… 21%.”
My laughter subsided instantly. We had a breathable atmosphere in a broken-up ship, abandoned and left exposed to the void of outer space. This was the true impossibility.
“Nitrogen: 78%...” he continued but then paused before continuing confused. “Argon: 0.9%. Carbon dioxide: 0.04%... This matches Earth’s atmosphere, exactly. To the decimals.”
I felt chills running down my spine. My erector pili muscles contracted, giving me goosebumps — a vestigial response from our furry ancestors to danger. Then I began to chuckle in short bursts. My coping mechanism again.
“What’s so funny, Ed?” asked Tedet.
“It’s not funny,” I said between bursts. “Sweet, Mother Mary. I’m really scared.”
The anxiety I felt before, interrupted by the marvel of spacewalking, had reared itself back in my head. This was uncharted territory. Not only was this a ship that had been abandoned and forgotten by humanity for centuries, but there was something magical in this place that had made it Earth-like.
I felt the hum of magic in the air. Something I had noticed during our travel was the absence of this permeating magic that usually exists in the world. I noticed the change whenever we moved from the mortal to the spirit realms. I felt nothing when we went to space, probably due to how chaotic a launch is. This was when I realized that magic had changed at every point of our journey — the launch, the accelerating maneuver, when the air was pulled off from the airlock, and, finally, the chill when opening the hatch. That should’ve been a dead giveaway. But I never noticed.
Now, when I stepped in, I felt it. There’s magic. But the magic didn’t feel natural, like how the world spreads its magic, this one felt artificial. This is caused by someone. Someone was using magic to do this. Or more like they were leaking it.
Padrict Gleissvissen, I thought. But that couldn’t be. No wizard could be this powerful. However, Wizard Padrict was on this ship by orders of Isadal.
Something started making sense; the pieces were falling into place. Padrict and Isadal. Galavant and Uderach. Isadal wanted something from here and asked Padrict to retrieve it, just like Uderach had asked me, but Galavant didn’t want the torviela to have it. The question I had was that if Isadal wanted something retrieved, then Padrict had all the time in the world to take it back, and given how there was nothing on its way back that we saw in the radars, that meant Padrict was still here.
Whatever Padrict came for must have been this magical thing or being stuck or lost in the Ark Ship. But Padrict should’ve been able to find it, it wasn’t hard to figure out the source. If I concentrated, I could tell by the flow of magic where it was coming from. Normally, this isn’t easy, due to interference, but in this ship, currently, there are only a couple of sources of magic, excluding us. When Padrict set foot here, he should’ve noticed the only source of magic and walked up to it. Why hadn’t he turned back? Was the source hostile?
What about Uderach? Just like Galavant, he must know that something was here and asked us to retrieve it for them instead of Isadal. Does Galavant want Isadal to possess it? And if this powerful being is hostile, what would it mean for the Faery to possess it? What about the Vampirids? Do the vampires know? I assumed so.
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Lastly, what about mortals? What if we get to take it back for us? Maybe Padrict realized what could happen and decided to betray Isadal for the benefit of the Cabal and mortals.
The issue was that if this being is so powerful, why would Isadal only send one person? And what about Uderach? Did he think I would be enough? I can only assume he did if he came to ask me personally without mentioning anyone else. He could’ve tried convincing me with that, there should have been no reason to conceal that information if he was going to send more people with me. Then, does that mean the source is not hostile? Or does that mean that they didn’t know it was hostile?
The last hypothesis could be that they didn’t send us for this, but something else and they didn’t know this existed here. Given how no human is a match for whatever the source of magic could be, it means they must have sent us for something else.
Whatever the case, our mission wasn’t to come for that, but for Padrict. We don’t have to get involved with it if we can avoid it. All we need to do is take Padrict with us peacefully and go, forget about the being. Then, finally, report it to the Council; this could certainly be used to help Padrict in his trial.
I explained my reasoning aloud to everyone.
“Steer away from whatever that could be and just find the Wizard,” agreed Tedet. “Can you find him?”
“It’s hard,” I answered. “But if we keep moving, I might be able to pick him up. The magic is overpowering whatever Padrict could emit passively. Maybe, if he uses magic I’d be able to find him.”
“Hopefully, if he does, it isn’t too late for us.”
I nodded my head.
I looked at Martin, my loving boyfriend. My significant other, the man I love the most in this world. I saw fear and excitement in his face. But all I felt was terror. It was supposed to be something simpler, maybe a little dangerous, but nothing like what we’re living. He may not be able to tell the real danger like I do, and that is what brings me despair. He had chosen to come over, but I had also asked him along with Tedet.
I know I cannot blame myself for the choices of others, but I knew that if we had not brought it up, he wouldn’t be here. Most likely we wouldn’t have been here either, Tedet and I.
Without much else to do, we simply walked onward, through the old but pristine ghost ship. There was an eerie sensation that came from an odd combination of the situation. The tricentenary ship boasted an impeccable interior, almost as if nothing had happened to it. Or that something had maintained it in perfect condition.
Every step we took echoed through the halls, the haunting feeling of something about to go wrong only made me more anxious with every resounding clank from our boots. I was beginning to think that there were more steps than ours. Something was bound to appear any second. I turned several times to look behind me. The gradual darkening, as we strayed away from the hatch we opened, felt suffocating. We turned our chest light and we pushed on.
We did not speak for several minutes as our heightened alertness kept us from distracting ourselves from looking into the dark. This was eventually broken when Martin found something that caught his attention: a sign, old technology, trash. Anything seemed to be filled with mystery and wonder to him.
‘Incredible,’ he often said. ‘Look at this,’ as well as ‘isn’t this cool?’ There were so many expressions of disbelief that, eventually, his contagious childish marveling made us comment about other things, like the unusual way of writing or the strangeness of archaic words, even languages that were no longer alive.
Even Tedet seemed to finally have cracked, as he was somehow the most interested in the trip. He tried to contain himself, making sure to be aware of his surroundings, but even he couldn’t stop himself from standing still to admire the view.
At some point, the strangeness and anxiety were overwhelmed by wonder and fascination. We didn’t look around to find danger at every corner anymore, but to see who was the first to find the next new thing.
Our playfulness was abruptly rewarded in a somewhat scary way when the sound of repeated whirring and clacking appeared from an offshoot hall. The echoes of the sound finally made us keenly aware of the real situation we were in. My ears perched up and my shoulders tensed, just the same as Martin and Tedet. We turned to the sound and slowly walked. This time, we made sure we made no sound.
As we grew closer the sounds turned into a chaotic orchestra of similar sounds. More whirring, more clacking, and adding to those were scratches and rumbling.
“Robots?” interrupted Martin in a whisper.
No one dared to answer or continue in fear of making more sound. Thus, we continued carefully. Curiosity won over stupidity and fear.
Approaching what appeared to be an opening in a wall, that seemed to be ripped open rather than man-made, we finally found evidence of our culprit. There was some movement barely detectable from our distance, the flashlights could not illuminate better than they already did. To conserve battery, all non-essential systems were reduced in the EVA suits. Nothing related to life-preserving systems was anything but energy efficient.
When we were only a few meters close we realized what the movement was. It wasn’t just the wall that was bending at the edges of the whole, but smaller things were attached to it. Black objects that were hard to describe were having a party with the wall as they tugged, scratched, and ripped it by pieces.
“Robots,” confirmed Martin. “Automatons destroying the ship’s walls.”
We approached with lighter bounds and relaxed shoulders, but still focused on the little machines that seemed to be acting like ants, ripping apart a corpse.
The machines appeared to be the same shape, but on closer inspection, we could see a diverse array of forms, but oddly enough, none were unique. Many appeared to be the same. And in fact, on closer inspection, it was almost as if many were from the same species.
‘Species?’ I questioned myself.
“Look, these look the same,” said Tedet, almost like an answer to my query.
“But what are they doing? Why are they destroying the wall?” I asked.
They were acting not much different from animals having a feast. Pursuing survival, feeding on something to continue living. Many of the machines could be seen with pieces of metal sticking to a part of their body.
As we stepped closer, now sure that we were not being prayed upon, we could look across the hole and beyond the wall. The sight beyond it was not something we were prepared for.
The ship looked devoured. Like something had taken bites of it. Every wall, even the floor and ceiling, were being picked apart by little machines. If the sight of the ship being eaten from the inside by ravenous, metallic ants was enough, the sight of wrestling machines made it even more jaw-dropping.
Machines of different shapes tugged on other machines, stealing the pieces of metal that were stored by the ones eating the ship. I decided to call the latter ones Miners, and the former, Snatchers. An apparent game of tug turned into a fight and the miners began smashing their limbs into the snatchers. Eventually, those miners that successfully or unsuccessfully fought off the snatchers continued their operations, while the snatchers turned to the next victim.
Any sort of fear we had, finally dissipated. What we were witnessing was incredible. Even further, other bigger machines threw themselves into the smaller machines and bashed their limbs into their prey, ripping them apart and storing their parts. Very few smaller machines managed to escape from the grasp, while the bigger machines were left confused looking for the pray that had disappeared.
It was a true struggle for survival. Machines were fighting for their lives, and others were preying on them. The fight for resources — the metals — was a clear analogy to carbon-based life from Earth and Sovail.
I couldn’t believe what I was watching but, to my brain, the idea that manifested felt almost natural. It wasn’t until my boyfriend put it into question, aloud, that I had to turn to myself to knock some sense into me.
“They’re alive?” he asked.
And I thought I was going mad. How could I believe so easily that the machines were alive? I did not notice the moment I had changed my view of them, from simple servos and code to beings toiling for survival. Machines, alive? No. How could they? They had no soul. Only mortals possessed a soul and machines didn’t. No robot, android, or AI ever developed a soul and I was completely sure that they would never do.
“No,” I said. “They aren’t. They can’t be alive.”
“But look at them! They eat, they fight, they survive. These automatons were made to repair the ship and replicate. To keep the ship running and to maintain their numbers high. But now they are destroying the ship — eating it. I bet they still replicate — reproduce. Like animals! They are alive!”
I looked at my boyfriend confused. A wide grin appeared on his face. I could not try to explain to him what made me so sure that these little guys could not be alive, that would only erase that smile from his face — a smile so beautiful and rare, that I only wished to look at it forever. Despite my displeasure with his ignorance, all I could think was how much I loved this dork of a man who was mine.
The openings through the walls lead further into the ship. Our curiosity made us walk through and among the little machines that fearlessly ripped more and more into the ship. The whirring sounds started to almost feel rhythmic.
A few steps into our curious incursion, we saw defective machines, failing to eat as the others would. Further in we saw even darker spaces, where other machines were building more of themselves — exact replicas. After a bit, the new machine would be dragged into where there was some light and it would boot up. The parent machine would stand still and, soon after, both would set off to break apart the ship.
“I think that one was uploading its operating system to the other,” Tedet explained.
“Inherited information about how to act and how to build more of itself,” continued Martin, awestruck. “Their OS is their DNA. And the functions are their genes.”
I mocked him by thinking of him as some sort of Space Darwin.
More and more, the divide between the living and the unliving merged into a gray zone. Things were already quite complicated when we took into account things like viruses, but now self-replicating machines — this gray goo — acted too much like life that it also made me confused. Could life exist without a soul? Could artificial life develop a soul? Or would it be humans, and their perception to consider them alive grant them a soul?
What about artificial intelligence? We stopped developing AI when we decided its functionality as a tool had reached its peak, and nothing beyond that, like mimicking the human mind or consciousness, was further developed. That would not stop people from trying eventually, and I wondered if a purely digital entity, that can reach a level of consciousness and self-preservation that allows it to fight for its survival, would eventually lead to the development of a soul. And what would such a soul be? Where would it reside? Or would a new type of soul begin to exist?
What if we uploaded our consciousness to a digital world? Would our soul come with us or would we develop a new type of soul? Or would uploading consciousness require us to upload our soul as well as a digital existence?
While I was pondering new ideas that could eventually be of major importance to the cabal, I felt a pang at the back of my head.
Is something watching us?
I turned my head quickly and through the labyrinth of opened holes in the walls and floors, deep into the dark depths of the ship, something was waiting. I felt it like a piercing stare. I knew what it was, and I knew that it was not a stare. Someone had figured out we came and was probing us with their magic. It was something entirely different from the other source of magic; this one was fainter and it touched us with finesse. Someone skilled was analyzing us from beyond using their magic as a resonator.
I realized at that moment I could’ve tried the same. Normally, this sort of thing is only used during training in isolated chambers to help students tune in to their magic and feel other people. Outside those chambers, the chaotic nature of the world doesn’t allow us to control such power like how one would use radio waves. But here, it felt almost like the perfect environment to try it out.
Unlike this individual, I was not good with the fine arts of magic control. I like to think of myself as a boxer, not a fencer. I was a heavy hitter; I punched my opponents into submission. So, when I tried probing my surroundings with my magic, it must have been more like a sonar rather than radar. A loud bang that any animal could hear in the water rather than the invisible light that could only be detected by those who are in tune.
Martin, to my side, rattled and complained about shivers. Tedet’s face flashed blue and green, and chirped. At that moment I knew I had probably messed up.
The probing magic disappeared. Not too long after, the background magic changed. It went from a constant flow of magic doing the same patterns into something different. I felt a pang in my head as I tried to understand what was happening. Unlike the world, which created a white noise of randomness that anyone is used to, or a usual pattern that you suddenly learn to ignore, like the rumblings of traffic, this one felt like someone decided to turn on all the tools of a mechanical workshop on.
The ship rumbled and churned.
The little machines scattered.
And we ran.