Inner Sanctum Security Center | 2:15 PM | Second Day
"So where exactly is the security center supposed to be, anyway?" I asked, as Seth opened the door to the main building opposite the greenhouse. "It's come up a bunch, but it wasn't part of the tour I went on with the grandmaster."
He shrugged. "Saci said it's supposed to be right in the middle of the building. I think she said something about going through the main hall... But I've not been in here yet, so I don't actually know where that is." He grinned mischievously. "But hey, I've got you here as a guide, right?"
"I guess so," I said, stepping through.
I took Seth back into the central hall-slash-library-slash-orrery that Neferuaten had shown us the previous evening, and after bumbling around trying doors like idiots for a few minutes - it turned out there was another entrance to the second floor proper among the upper level of bookshelves, which I'd somehow missed completely during both excursions and the obvious fact it made sense for one to be there - we managed to find our way to an unfamiliar hall, which terminated at a heavily reinforced door, flanked by two 'windows' that let you see out into another part of the building, just past the bizarre metal staircase we'd ascended up the first time.
The door looked like it could take a lot of punishment. While the inter-bioenclosure seals were meant to keep out the elements, this was clearly intended to keep out other people. A helpful sign informed me that use of the Power was blocked via enchantment in this area, and about a meter away from the entryway, the floor gave way to metal grating which I was fairly confident would open up into some kind of death pit, or possibly vent out poisonous gas.
There was a heavy knocker on the frame itself that, when Seth partook of it while I was still looking around, was so loud that it almost triggered my fight-or-flight instincts and made me dive back for the entrance. Fortunately, he didn't notice.
A few moments later, the door swung open, and I was greeted by possibly the most oppressive looking chamber I'd seen thus far. There were no windows, and both the circular walling and the floors were raw reinforced bronze, without so much as a carpet to soften things up. There were no decorations, and the edges of the room were dominated by large lockers and filing cabinets, all of which looked to be sealed tight.
Other than a square hatch in the middle of the floor that presumably led to the sublevel - well, let's say it did lead to the sublevel and not be wishy-washy, since I'm pretty sure there's no such thing as decorative entrance tunnels - the only thing in the room that caught the eye was the desk at the rear, next to the logic bridge. It had only a few basic amenities. A box full of papyrus-wrapped candy. A few bottles of water, some empty. A ridiculously out-of-place looking red rug, fluffy and cheap-looking.
Sacnicte was seated there, lazily filling out some sheets of parchment. She'd taken off her shoes, and was resting her legs in front of her as she worked, crossed over one another. They were long and skinny, with a hint of muscle... And even in the drab atmosphere of the room, her face looked--
No. Nevermind. We're not doing this.
"Yo," she said, holding up a hand in greeting. "Kinda wasn't expecting you to show up."
"What," Seth said, with relaxed amusement. "Figured I'd go ahead and flush this whole Biomancer thing down the toilet? Maybe try and kickstart my modelling career?"
"You?" She looked amused, raising an eyebrow. "Nah, I thought you'd just figure I wouldn't have the balls to say anything."
"My lady," he said, his tone shifting to a faux-genteel one as he twirled a hand in the air and transitioned into an impromptu bow, "I'll have you know that I'm a gentleman, one who prides himself on the integrity of his word. I would never make a promise to a lady such as yourself in idleness."
"Even when that promise is to pay her off so she won't blab about you smacking your friend in the face, huh?"
The act slipped, and he deflated a bit, with a tired chuckle. "Man, you're not the type to let someone off easy, huh."
"Oh yeah. I'm as ruthless as they come," she said. She reached over to the back of the desk and withdrew a cigarette from an open box, then fumbled around with a box of matches.Her gaze flicked over in my direction. "So you're the one he roped into this, huh? I would've figured it'd be that other kid. Ptolema."
"I said the same thing," I said.
"Ema's stressed out enough with this presentation stuff as is," Seth said smoothly. "I didn't wanna give her any more trouble. Besides, I wanted somebody with fortitude in case you asked me for more then we agreed." He smirked.
That's a completely different reason than the one he gave me, I noted. I guess because she doesn't know either of us as well?
"Don't worry. I'm not the type to push my luck," she said. She lit the cigarette, then sat up. "Well, go ahead and tune yourselves in. I'm only supposed to be in here for a half hour or so to make written copies of all the day's data, so it's probably better not to screw around."
"Gotcha," Seth said, stepping forward. "Don't worry. Everything goes smoothly, and we'll be in and out in five."
"I'm not sure I understand why you wanted to do this here," I said, as I followed. "Isn't doing it in a place specifically for security going to make it easier for people to find out about? I've got to imagine the records on the logic engine here get checked more than, say, the one over in the guesthouse."
As I was saying this, my eyes wandered around the walls behind the desk, and I noticed the room had a pretty sophisticated-looking mundane clock nailed to the wall, with number plates instead of the face you'd normally expect. It looked like it tracked down to the 100th of a second, the least of the figures flicking by at an almost unreadable pace. It went in the opposite direction, too, tracking the weeks, months, even years.
...in fact, on closer inspection, it actually counted the year twice. The first read '1409 COVENANT' and the second '10573 FLOOD'
The latter reckoning was the one used by human civilization prior to the collapse of the old world, which supposedly dated from the great flood which had devastated the earliest farms and settlements at the end of the glacial period - though scholars had long ago thrown the accuracy of the number itself into disrepute. When mankind re-awakened in the Remaining World, there was controversy about resuming use of the calendar. After all, the Mimikos was technically divorced from the preceding reality in terms of space-time, and the Ironworkers had labored for untold ages in isolation, the nature of their existence making numbering the years redundant. Furthermore, the movements of the Great Lamp had none of the inelegance that had prompted some of the more specific dating traditions, such as leap years, creating inconsistency.
An absolute consensus was never established, but when the Rhunbardic Empire acquired its short-lived hegemony over the continent, it imposed its own calendar, dating from the crowning of their first king. By the time that fell apart, it had already become the standard in Viraak, most of Sao, and half of Ysara. For the next couple of centuries, there was epochal anarchy as cultural nationalists clashed with pragmatists, but when the Grand Alliance was founded, they took the kingdom's system, stuck an extra 10 years on it as a conciliatory measure, and reframed it as the date of the First Convention, when the Covenant was originally signed.
...Even though that was completely ahistorical at a conceptual level. The First Convention had gone on for years. And the different Parties hadn't even signed the Covenant at the same time.
But it was roughly correct, and probably one of those cases where the story mattered more than the truth. The bigger picture a perspective you took on politics, the more it seemed like 90% ego-soothing.
Anyway, as a result, you barely saw the year dated from the flood outside of the Uana's citadels and a couple of very traditional nations on the Mimikos, like Asharom. So it was strange it would be included somewhere like this.
"Nah, you've got it backwards," Sacnicte told me, bringing my train of thought back down to earth. "This place is like the eye of the storm. Every other logic engine in the whole sanctuary reports back whatever they're doing to this room, but the one here goes straight out to the rest of the world. It's to make sure no one could sabotage a call for help, if shit went really sour."
"Damn," Seth said. "Doesn't sound like the order's much for privacy. They record everything?"
"Well, not everything everything. But a lot." She gestured lazily to her left, at the logic bridge. "Just touch the thing, see for yourselves."
He shrugged, and pressed his hand against the false iron. I leaned over and did the same.
At this point, two things happened concurrently, the first of which is easy to explain, and the second less so. Let's start with the easy one.
Suddenly a second set of images and sounds overlaid itself upon the dreary room in my senses - ones I could recognize intuitively as less real, but nevertheless were extremely vivid. They depicted Old Yru, looking considerably sunnier than it had the previous afternoon. We seemed to be positioned on one of the high streets on the ascent to the boulevard, overlooking one of the great bridges that linked the hills and mountains in the city center.
Passing along the bridge was the bicentennial parade. I'd been a cynic about it with Ran the previous day, but I had to confess it was all a pretty impressive sight. There must have been hundreds of floats and multiple tens of thousands of people and horses marching, all flying garish colors. There were military formations, elaborate displays of giant, vividly-colored sculptures, dancers, even several huge novelty golems doing everything from acting out simple scenes, to spouting flames in the air, to simply waving to and reacting at the crowd. And emanating from it all was the music of hundreds of bands, the sound blending into an indistinct cacophony which Sacnicte had mercifully almost muted.
The audience, of course, was obscene in size, perched in stalls all up and down the entire route, and in a massive cluster at the boulevard further ahead. I couldn't even begin to count how many people there must've been, though I wouldn't have been surprised if it was as high as half a million, or even greater still. After all, it was an important event, as the countless banners bearing the number '200' pointed out.
Leading the parade and most visible from our current position was an absolutely colossal, multi-layered float that practically had an entire building on it, and was being literally floated through the air using the Power. At its most prominent position was a huge stone archway and pedestal, an elaborate display of criss-crossing waterworks orchestrated by Thalasomancers, and several unveiled military and political VIPs, including Zah-Eil of Bhuruza, a hyper-controversial figure who had been one of the primary leaders of the revolution, but had gone on to broker the Summer Compromise and since cozied up to the Administrators, despite it doing a terrible job fulfilling the promises in said agreement. The Humanist bloc loved him, but a lot of people my age saw him as a traitor who the provisional government probably should have drowned in the Mnemonic Sea while they had the chance.
Having him up there was a hell of a political statement by the Administrators. Well, so much as 'absolutely nothing will ever change, now stop complaining' can be considered a statement.
"Heh, kinda surprised you'd be watching this, Saci," Seth said. "I didn't think people from the Duumvirate gave a shit about our weird political theater."
She shrugged. "Spectacle is spectacle. It's not like the bosses let us have echo games or recordings in here." She placed the lit cigarette in her mouth, inhaling deeply. "'sides, you can't do this kinda thing in the Empyrean-- Not enough open space. So seeing it all play out is kind of a novelty."
"Huh. Guess I hadn't thought about it that way." He peered down at the bridge as if to get a better look, despite that actually being impossible, since the logic engine bypassed the eyes completely. "What do you think, Su? Enough to get your patriotic juices flowing?"
"The waterworks are kind of making me want to go to the toilet, if that's what you mean," I said, my tone deadpan.
He chuckled to himself. "Y'know, honestly, I'd probably be somewhere down there myself if it weren't for this whole thing. I'm a sucker for big crowds. Always have been, ever since I was a kid. The chance to let loose and know it'll vanish in the noise, the sense of being part of something big..."
"Yeah, you seem like the outgoing type," Sacnicte said, yawning. "Personally, I'd be shitting myself in fear of a contact paradox. You downlanders are out of your minds."
"Can't live life without taking a few risks," Seth said, smiling to himself. "At least most people seem to be wearing gloves this time around."
As for the second thing which happened, it was difficult to explain for much the same reason as anything complicated to do with a logic bridge was. Most human languages are only really suited to describing things in terms of the five senses, and beyond that, all you can do is say you felt something, which becomes less and less useful the more complicated a feeling you're discussing.
Nevertheless. Though it was a subtler feeling than the overt simulacrum of the parade vista, I felt myself surrounded by... Well, let's call them 'doorways', behind each of which was a huge amount of information, mostly about the sanctuary and what was taking place within it. I was being blocked off from seeing it, but I was aware of its presence.
Once we stopped gawking at the scene before us, I felt Sacnicte exert her will, and one of those doorways 'opened'. Looking into it, I could suddenly see a record of every time a logic engine had been accessed within the sanctuary during our stay, who had activated it, and if they'd established a connection to anywhere in the outside world - and if so, to approximately where.
"So," Sacnicte digressed, "as you can tell, we can't see much other than the context. There aren't any logs of what actually happens when someone attunes to the logic sea. It's supposed to be enough to spot potential traitors and people trying to do espionage... Though, I guess the whole thing feels kinda redundant these days."
I nodded absently. "The 'whodunnit' and the 'howdunnit', but not the 'whydunnit.'"
She scoffed, but didn't look like she actually understood what I'd said. "If you say so. ...'course, if you're talking about privacy shit, it's not like it ends there. There's direct surveillance, too."
Right, I thought. Neferuaten mentioned that.
Temporarily phasing away from the existing image, Sacnicte showed us the perspective she had on the abbey house, presumably because it was cleared out, and anywhere else might have infringed on someone's privacy. As the grandmaster had told us during the morning, there was an arcane lens in both the main halls of both floors of the building, and a bird's eye view of the entire area outside, including the gardens and the forested area to the side and rear. Mehit and Lilith seemed to having some kind of conversation in the former, but the perspective was far too distant to make out their mannerisms, let alone try to lip read anything.
"Sheesh," Seth said, whistling. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised, but this is pretty extensive."
"An enchantment also renews the Anomaly-Diving Arcana every fifteen or so minutes, then reports the result," she explained, taking another drag from the cigarette. "The system also keeps track of who is in what bioenclosure, along with a bunch of other stuff, like if there's any structural damage and whenever somebody gets transpositioned in."
My eyes lit up for a moment. This could be a good back-up for trying to force a meeting with Samium if Neferuaten reaching out to him didn't go well. "Can you show us that, too? Who is where."
"Sorry," she said, shaking her head. "Think I could get into some trouble for that one."
Shoot. Well, I suppose that would have made things too easy.
"But anyway," she went on, "all that's just the 'watching people' part. You'd be surprised how much is left from when this place basically doubled-up as a fortress."
Not as surprised as you might think, I thought, picturing the pile of rifles. "Can you control parts of the sanctuary remotely, here?" I asked, curious. It was probably pushing the range of acceptable curiosity a bit, but I'd been dragged here to help with something dubious, so it was probably okay. "You know-- Open or close the seals, control the golems, turn off the life support for one of the bioenclosures if there are intruders." Seth looked a little horrified at my imagination at the latter suggestion.
"Pfft, that's a pretty fun idea. If I could, I think I'd be tempted to waste everyone while they're sleeping and run off with the valuables." I was pretty sure this was a joke, despite her constant aloof tone. Mostly sure. "Nah, all I could really do here like that is initiate a lockdown, and right now I wouldn't even be able to do that much, since you need a special key that only the bosses have when this place is actually in use. To do anything complicated with the whole sanctuary, you need to go down to the administrative core, near the arcane logic engine that runs everything." She pointed at the hatch.
I nodded. "So what did you mean, when you said we'd be surprised?"
"Well, this room in particular is a whole other story from the rest," she said. "Really, 'safehouse' would probably be a better term for it than 'security center'. It has its own supply of air, tons of food downstairs, an eris pool, and some spare scepters stashed in those lockers." She pointed. "Not to mention the traps you might've noticed coming in, and even a couple combat golems. It's built to survive a siege for as long as possible, while still being able to contact the outside the world."
"Huh. That why you've got all these cabinets around?" Seth asked, glancing around the room. "Like, hard copies of important stuff, in case the rest of the sanctuary gets overrun?"
She shrugged. "Beats the fuck out of me. They don't even give me the keys for that stuff." She leaned back in her chair. "Anyway, this is fun, but I'm not here to give you guys a whole tour. I'm already taking a risk doing this at all."
I scratched the side of my head. "I don't want to sabotage anything... But if you don't mind me saying so, I'm still kind of surprised the two of you are going through with something like this," I said. "It seems more like something that people do in novels than reality. You could get into a lot of trouble."
"H-Hey, don't look at me," Seth said, a little nervously. "I'm only here because I'm in a lot of trouble already."
Sacnicte took another drag, this time drawing the moment out longer, her eyes turning towards the ceiling. "It is kinda stupid of me, yeah. But I'm in kind of a desperate position right now, so when this kid planted the idea in my head--" She gestured towards Seth, "--well, I couldn't exactly let it go. I don't feel great about robbing a student, and it might bite me in the ass later, but... Well, nothing for it."
I furrowed my brow. "You're having financial trouble?"
She shook her head. "'Trouble' makes it sound too domestic. Temporary. It's more like I've got financial herpes."
Graphic. "But you're from the Duumvirate," I said, confused. "You don't even use the luxury debt system."
"I don't really want to get into it," she said, sounding a combination of tired and bored. "Can we get on with this?"
"Oh, sure," I said. "Sorry. Go ahead."
She nodded, then looked to Seth. "I've given you access. Can you make a link to the nexus in your city?"
"Sure thing," he said. I might've annoyed him a bit with my excessive questioning, since he seemed a bit more tense, although he wasn't the type to make something like that overt. "Might take a while, though. The infrastructure in Sut-Heka is infamously old. Got anything else I could sit on?"
"The floor," she said, seeming amused by the question. "Or you could try and tip over one of the cabinets. That could raise an alarm, though."
"Aheh, I'll stick with standing," he said, leaning against the wall.
I saw him focus, and the room fell silent for a few moments. With an absence of anything else to do, my gaze turned back in the direction of the parade, which was now beginning to cross the bridge and advance towards the boulevard, making its way past the hanging gardens and the most successful businesses in the city. The crowds there were even larger, to the point that they almost blurred with the marchers.
Actually, it's probably worth taking a step back and explain some of this to you. I've discussed how logic engines work already, but not really gone into the means by which people interface with them. Well, you might've been able to piece some of it together from my offhand comments, but it would be better to just get it all on the table.
As I explained earlier, in order to survive as lifeforms dependent upon iron, all human beings have a connection to the Tower of Asphodel, one which is only severed in the event of a contact paradox. This temporarily transforms all false iron into true iron so long as it is within the body, substituted by temporal clones of the substance as it exists with the individual's seed. Because of this, when humans touch false iron, they act as a conduit between the physical world and the Tower of Asphodel as this process begins to take place.
But within the Tower, everything is connected - mushed together into one singularity of recorded matter. So during the First Resurrection, it was discovered that it was possible to use this as a vector of communication. With training, individuals could channel their neural impulses through the Tower, which could then be delivered to someone else, so long as they were assisted by a device to make them coherent: A logic bridge.
And assuming there was someone present to act as the conduit, information could also be sent through false iron by inanimate objects, too. Put all this together, and you had a replacement for the now-impossible light-based communication of the old world.
...of course, there were two implicit disadvantages. The first was that a human who touched false iron couldn't move far from it - specifically, about 5 meters - without breaking the connection. So logic engines had no means to communicate with one another without human aid unless they used the Power, which also needed to be renewed by manual intervention. It was one of the foremost obstacles in modern engineering.
The second was a self-imposed restriction from the Covenant. The smaller types of logic bridges and engines, the ones everyone carried around, were only capable of transmitting lesser amounts of data - still respectable, but nothing compared to what we were seeing in front of us. And one of the factors blamed for the social breakdown of the old world had been a failure of interpersonal connection. Iron had enabled people to communicate in radically unconventional ways, which was perceived to have furthered dehumanization and diminished common empathy. As a result, the law was that remote communication was only permitted if it sensually emulated reality, like what was happening in front of us.
What that amounted to was a functional ban on portable communications, at least until some massive hurdles were overcome. It was another part of that old document that I could only perceive as a hysterical overreaction to the original problem.
But anyway. As you can tell, this technology still eventually grew to the point where it could do a lot. Pretty much all media outside of novels and plays was experienced through logic bridges in the modern era, along with many more mundane functions. People often called it the second pillar upon which the Remaining World was built - along with, of course, the Power. Especially since the mind was its one blind spot.
"Alright," Seth said. "I've made a link. I'll pull you two in."
"Sounds good to me," Sacnicte said. I nodded.
Understand that you are being requested to act as a third-party witness for a personal transfer of luxury debt, I felt communicated. Understand that you must accept or deny this request.
I accept, I replied.
The details of the transaction became visible to me. It wasn't very complex - Seth of Ikkuret will take on 200 of Sac'Nicte'Ic'Nal's luxury debt.
"Look good to you, Saci?" Seth said, a little fatigued.
"Yeah," she said, yawning. "No problems."
He nodded.
Utsushikome of Fusai, understand that you are acting as the third-party witness for this personal transfer of luxury debt, from Sac'Nicte'Ic'Nal to Seth of Ikkuret. Understand that, according to Sut-Hekan law, all personal transactions must be overseen by an individual unrelated to and not benefiting from the transaction as a guard against fraud. Understand that, while you are not ultimately liable for the transaction itself in either nature or intent, you may face prosecution should you be acting on false terms and stand to profit, or else be found to have conspired with one of other two parties to engage in criminal activity. Do you understand this information and accept your role?
"Does this count as criminal activity...?" I asked, genuinely unsure.
"I think it's only against the law if it's something to do with business. Or if you're covering up a crime."
"This is covering up a crime, though," I pointed out. "Assault. And probably unreasonable self-defense."
"Oh, yeah. No kidding." He laughed nervously. "Well, guess it's only illegal if anybody finds out!"
"Anybody other than the six people who already know, you mean," Sacnicte said casually, twirling the cigarette around in her fingers.
"Aheheh, yeah," Seth said, rubbing his neck.
I was starting to feel like I should've been getting a bribe for this too, but it would probably have been too awkward to start voicing second thoughts at this point. So instead I thought: I accept it.
Understand that you must make an assessment of both parties to determine if they appear of sound mind, with a full understanding of the action they are about to undertake. Do you believe this to be the case?
Yes, I thought.
Seth and Sacnicte did their part, too, and the transaction moved on to the next stage.
Understand that you must wait for this transaction to be approved. Understand that this will take an estimated 4 minutes, 9 seconds.
"Wow, you weren't kidding about this infrastructure being shitty," Sacnicte said.
"Sure wasn't," Seth said, before letting out a sigh and turning in my direction with a smile. "Thanks for helping out, Su. Even if it's not much of a risk in the whole scheme of things, I really appreciate you going along with my bullshit like this."
"Well, you did kinda put me on the spot," I said, returning the expression. "It's no trouble, though."
"I owe you a favor, okay?" he said, his tone sincere. "Seriously. Anyway, you've done your part, so you can get out of here, if you want. The others are probably having lunch out in the garden by now."
I shook my head. "No, I'll stay. You'd just have to fetch me again if something went wrong and you needed to start over."
"Thanks, Su," he said, with a measure of embarrassment.
While we waited, we turned back to watch the parade. Without physically being there, it wasn't actually very compelling after the moment of initial awe had passed. Sacnicte shifted our point of view a few times so we could see some of the more interesting floats - a mobile stage performance complete with with a small orchestra, a giant walking golem that seemed to somehow be made mostly out of ice, an assembly of several absolutely nightmarish-looking artificed animals, like an elephant with eight legs - but the vast majority of it was just overpainted wooden displays with popular slogans from different groups; typical parade stuff.
It wasn't a surprise. For something this mainstream, controversial imagery would be nipped in the bud by whatever poor bureaucrats the city council had sentenced to organize it. But it meant that, past the scale, nothing was particularly surprising.
After a minute or two of us idly commenting, Sacnicte flipped the perspective away from the parade proper, and to the grand stage in front of the assembly hall of the Old Yru Convention, a massive dome of glass and dark stone which stood at a cliff overlooking the sea. The parade wouldn't make it here for hours, but the square already had a crowd of thousands of people. Later, the First Administrator was due to show himself and rattle off what would undoubtedly be a sequence of overwritten platitudes - probably involving saying the word 'unity' so many times that it lost all meaning - but for now, lesser members of the government were giving their speeches. Musnati of Xattusa, a bald man with a hard jaw and the current Overseer of Education, was presently attempting to hold their attention.
He wasn't wearing a veil either - technically, most people didn't need to. Prosognostic events were caused by seeing a face you associated with yourself on someone with an overlapping seed, so if you'd had a good enough distinction treatment that you didn't resemble it at all, then you were basically no threat to anyone else... And if you had it natally or when you were so young you wouldn't remember your old face, they wouldn't be to you, either.
Of course, that wouldn't save you from a contact paradox if you actually touched - in that sense, it was treating the symptom. But still, the main reason it was the law for people in that position to hide their appearance was nothing more than fairness; not everyone got, or could afford, decent distinction treatment. Depending on where they lived, that could be a question of luxury debt or social status, but it held true nevertheless.
"...and we, of course, must remember our obligation to our children. Not just in building them a stable and bright future, but instilling in them values which will properly guide them to live lives of diligence and moral integrity. In this, the two-hundredth year of our alliance, we must realize that we can no longer take for granted the lessons imparted to us in the dark years of the Interluminary Strife and through the Tricenturial War. We need to be willing to reach out to the young and show them our institutions work ourselves, re-centering the importance of the family and of local communities, to make the next century one of camaraderie and social renewal..."
"Dying Gods," Seth said, shaking his head in bemusement. "They gave this guy the education billing? He sounds half way to being a fucking Iconist."
"Well, Sophia of Naavos had that whole scandal where she was selling alliance certifications to a bunch of shady universities," I said. "I guess they felt pressured to put in a traditionalist after that."
"Heh, like they needed an excuse." He grimaced as the speech continued along the same lines. "Like-- Do you think they actually believe this shit? That if we grow enough 'moral integrity', the old bastards will hand over a bunch of their land?"
"I'm not sure they've thought that far ahead," I said. "It's probably just political signalling to the kind of people who they think'll re-elect them. That they mean they want us to live with our parents forever."
He snorted. "Guess that's the endgame for places like this, huh?"
"What do you mean?" I asked, puzzled.
"Y'know-- The order, the sanctuary. If you think about a society where everybody lives forever, that's basically bound to become a pyramid scheme, isn't it? Every generation spending their whole lives squatting in the shadow of the previous, living off whatever they feel like giving away."
"Could very well be, yeah," I said, and then decided to play devil's advocate. "It's not written in stone, though. People were talking about the same problems before the alliance was founded, but population control helped a lot."
Under the Grand Alliance law, it was actually quite difficult to have children. You needed to be at least a century old - considered the age of full emotional and mental maturity, though legal independence came at only 25 - and pass a series of tests proving you could care for them to a reasonable standard. Even then, you were only allowed to have a handful every hundred years.
Of course, there was nothing stopping people from ignoring the rules and just going for it, but without a seed implanted via the Power shortly after conception, the pregnancy would fail within a few weeks. And nowadays, it was hard to find an arcanist who'd go over the authorities heads and risk the wroth of the Censors.
"I dunno," Seth said, his expression skeptical. "You can only stretch that kind of thing so far, and it's already falling into shit. Even in Mekhi, which everyone in the east seems to think has a handle on it." He let out a grim chuckle. "At the end of the day, the truth is that nobody's ever gonna want to hand out half their power and wealth to a bunch of people they think of as kids. Might not be any solution at all."
"I mean, historically speaking, generational problems have a way of working themselves out eventually," I said. In the background, Sacnicte switched the display back to the parade, presumably getting sick of our soapboxing. "It's just often a Titanomachy kind of working themselves out."
He looked at me, raising an eyebrow. "Titano-what?"
"Oh, sorry," I said. "Old world mythology. Still in my mind from talking to Zeno."
"How'd that end up coming up?"
"It didn't. They were just pretentious enough to bring it up out of nowhere," I said flatly.
"Heh, guess I'll see for myself, soon," turning back. "How do they deal with this kind of shit in the Duumvirate, Saci?"
"When there's too many young people, they just leave and go build a new arcology," she explained casually. She'd picked up a magazine from somewhere, and was now reading it instead of watching the broadcast. "Hard to fight over land and power when there basically isn't any."
"Sounds like paradise," Seth said, with a smirk.
Sacnicte offered no response, her face concealed behind the paper.
Understand that your transaction has now been completed. Understand that 200 luxury debt has been transferred from Sac'Nicte'Ic'Nal to Seth of Ikkuret.
"Phew!" Seth said, streching his arms. "Glad to have got that out of the way. Anything else you need, Saci?"
"Another 30,000 and maybe 10-- No, 15 bags of opium poppies," she joked (at least, I'm pretty sure it was a joke), extinguishing the cigarette against the side of the metal desk. "But not from you. You're heading straight out to the back, right?"
"Yeah," he said.
"Yantho should be out there handling the food," she said, as she slowly started to get her things together. I guess her business was already done. "If it's not too much trouble, tell him that I'll need my shift here covered tonight. I've got some shit I need to take care of after everything with the conclave wraps up."
"I thought you said you only had to come in here once a day?" I pointed out.
"No, I said that I only come in once a day to copy all the data," she said. If she was annoyed by my picking at her, it didn't show. "But there's other stuff we have to do too. Like I said, they're paranoid as all hell here."
"I don't mind letting the guy know," Seth said. "What if he says no, though?"
"He won't," she said. "But try not to make me sound like too much of a total bitch. He's got enough reason to dislike me already without thinking I'm gonna start pawning all my work off on him."
"Uh. Sacnicte," I said, hesitant. "I was meaning to ask... Is Yantho your brother?"
She stopped what she was doing, looking up at me in surprised confusion. "What?"
"I'm, uh, not quite familiar with how Lluateci gender their names, but yours are really similar. Sac'Nicte'Ic'Nal and Yantho'Ic'Tal. And when we were talking this morning, you were acting like the two of you were pretty close." I scratched the side of my head. "I'm just curious, so you don't have to answer."
"You shouldn't ask people personal questions at their workplace," she said, her tone suddenly quite cold. "It's not appropriate."
If you say it like that, I thought, it makes it pretty obvious the two of you have some kind of relationship, though.
"I-I'm sorry," I said, suddenly regretting bringing it up in spite of this deduction. "You've been pretty casual so far, and... Well, the situation right now is already pretty abnormal, so I thought you wouldn't mind."
"Well, I mind," she said, her eyes narrowed.
"Hey, c'mon, Saci. Give her a break," Seth said, holding out a hand soothingly. "It wouldn't be crazy for two siblings to be working together like this for one reason or another, right? If you're both apprenticed in the same place, or something. It's natural to wonder about something like that."
She was silent for a moment, looking tense. Then, slowly, she relaxed. "...yeah. I guess it's fine." She made a dismissive gesture. "I'm not gonna answer, though. It's none of your business."
"That's okay," I said, meek. It didn't take much to make me feel socially threatened.
"Don't ask Yantho this, either. Or, hell-- Don't bring up any of the shit I told you this morning. I don't want to stress him out."
Stress him out how...?
"Hey, no problem," Seth said, still trying to calm the atmosphere. "It's none of our business, y'know?"
"That's right." She paused for a moment. "...and try and check if he looks like shit. If he does, maybe tell him to go lie down and get something to eat, and that you can serve your own lunch. He's been too worked up since what happened yesterday."
"You got it," he said.
I nodded too. Despite her refusing to be explicit, she was making the situation obvious enough that there wasn't really much need to comment on it. "To be honest, if I'd been knocked unconscious without knowing what happened, I probably would've gone straight home," I said. "He must have a lot of fortitude."
"Yeah, he's tougher than he--"
Suddenly, Sacnicte was cut off by a booming 'sound' coming from the logic bridge display, loud enough that it was still noisy even through the muted sound. We jerked our heads towards it, and before I even fully processed what I was seeing, I felt the terrible sense of unease that comes from realizing you're seeing the world change before your eyes.
It all happened in seconds. From what I could see, a bomb, or else some other kind of explosive incantation, had detonated under the leading float, shattering the left half into pieces and covering the rest in flames. Before anyone could react, the incantation keeping it aloft failed, and it veered hard to the right, crashing into one of the old defensive towers that ran around the center of the city along with the gardens. It wasn't very big - not compared to the massive skyscrapers that were built nowadays - but it was enough to half-crush what was left of the float, shattering its hull and scattering debris all over the road.
There was a wave of screams as the crowd surrounding it manically dispersed and the march behind it came to a sudden halt. I couldn't see exactly what had happened to who, but there were bodies plainly lying in the street which I'd seen topple down either in the collision or the initial explosion. Arcanists soared through the air towards the site of the incident, there was more urgent shouting nearby, and...
The image cut off abruptly.
Understand that this link has been severed by the source. Understand that no explanation has been provided.
In silence, the three of us simply gawked. The gears of the logic engine slowly quieted as it ran out of tasks to do.
"Wow," Sacnicte eventually said. "So much for your country, I guess."