Memory Transcription Subject: Taylor Trench, Human Colonist
Date [standardized human time]: March 20, 2160
It hadn’t been evident what the Krev’s true power level was, or how they stacked up against the Federation. The talk of an automated fleet sounded more sophisticated than the prey-crewed, cowardly boats that stormed Earth, but I hadn’t seen the fruits of their labor; it remained to be seen what weaponry and technology they possessed, and how many ships they had to their name. When Gress transitioned his vessel out of subspace, and we got our first look at Avor and its surroundings out the viewport, I was astounded by what I saw. What in the blazes was I even looking at? Cherise’s eyes bulged in shock as well, so I knew she shared my sentiment.
Fortifications were littered around the system, not limited to massive particle cannons, missile defense stations, swarms of wandering patrol drones, and some kind of asteroid slingshot—and those were just the contraptions I understood. Our ship was heading in the direction of a planet with layers of superstructures around it: something that made my jaw drop. The metal casing around Avor reminded me of the pattern of a soccer ball’s stitching, with some patches opened up like a metal flower; others were sealed shut, limiting the flow of interstellar traffic. Was this what Gress had meant by a signal-dampening cage? I hadn’t thought it was so…literal. Wouldn’t enclosing the planet create other hassles, making it an absurd design for them to choose?
“Gress…what are we looking at?” Cherise asked, finding her voice before I did.
Unmistakable pride shined in the Krev’s eyes. “You’re looking at The Cage; the outer layer of defense for Avor. I might’ve understated its versatility. The panels don’t just dampen signals…we can open and close them, pulling the plug on all of our junctions if needed! Solar flares, asteroids…shuttering the doors if enemy bombs and ships are pointed at us.”
“Let me get this straight. Your whole planet can just, what, curl up into a ball?” I demanded. “Board up the windows and call it a day?”
“Hm, I liked your first metaphor. That’s what we evolved to do for threats; roll up into an impenetrable ball, shielding our vulnerable areas. Consider The Cage to be Avor’s scales.”
“This is something. You guys are much more advanced than the Federation, building shit like this. A futuristic paradise.”
“It must’ve been a colossal effort to get all of this up here,” Cherise noted. “To make it stay in place, and to power it.”
Gress waved his claws dismissively. “Powering it isn’t a problem, with sunlight shining down on it. I’m not sure if you have the technology to understand, so forgive me for my jargon, but it’s held in place through superconducting magnets and orbital rings, like the rest of our space construction. Just know that once you have one, it facilitates building an entire network much easier; getting to orbit becomes a berrywalk.”
I raised my pointer finger, scrunching my face in confusion. “Back up. What do you mean by entire network? You say ‘the rest’ of your space doohickeys like this isn’t all of it. Like it’s the tip of the iceberg.”
“I could tell you, but that would spoil seeing your faces light up when you catch your first glimpse of it. It’s adorable…er, wonderful, I mean…when you look happy, and just express yourselves in general. Maybe Avor can help you find some of that soul you feel humanity has lost.”
I leaned back in the passenger’s seat, kicking up my shoes on the console. Cherise shot me a look, though Gress didn’t seem to mind me using his ship controls as a footrest. The Krev’s statement had me intrigued on what we might witness here; my imagination hadn’t expanded its parameters quite far enough with Avor, it seemed. As far as ways to hide an entire society went, this planet-wide cage already seemed a great improvement to burrowing underground like mole-rats. Had Earth become aware of the Federation in time to save ourselves, it would’ve been a wise move to build a structure like this; then again, since the Farsul studied our planet back during World War II, I didn’t see how we could’ve known before they found us.
If the Krev can put something like this around Tellus, we need to pounce on that. With this kind of technology, we can stop the Federation from finding us again. Hell, the Consortium seems much more advanced than the Federation, just by virtue of having drones and supertech to start with! Have they ever thought for a moment they were capable of beating them in a fight?
It was a dangerous thought, one that just wouldn’t stay out of my head, gazing at this bounty of technological marvels. I decided not to voice that question to Gress just yet; those questions might answer themselves, if I could get my hands on more information about their military. If there was any doubt that the six species from the Krev could square off against hundreds in the Federation, I understood their hesitancy; aggressive action would put us back on the enemy’s radar, and could spell the true end for humanity. It wasn’t something I could even suggest lightly. Still, it was wonderful to have a major power, with a toolbox that exceeded those of our murderers, on our side for once. Just what else did Avor have in store, beneath The Cage?
The vessel drifted through a gargantuan panel, as Gress relayed the occasional check-in with traffic controllers; I found myself feeling a bit self-conscious, at the thought that an entire planet was about to get their first glimpse of us…through me and Cherise. It might be an uphill battle to be taken seriously, if Krev saw us as adorable little munchkins. There was also the complicating matter of our prior feuds on Tellus, where the Consortium had wanted us gone, and built up a lot of resentment toward humanity. Would I have to explain our secrecy? In light of that reality, what if the rent collector was wrong about the Krev’s willingness to help?
Gress poked a claw into my cheek, earning an indignant look. “Snap out of it. I can tell when you’re brooding by how your eyes glaze over, Taylor.”
“Don’t touch me,” I scoffed. “You could’ve just said my name.”
“And what fun would that be? Your puffy cheeks are as squishy as I imagined. Hey, does it hurt to be pinched? Like, just once so I can get the thought out of my head?”
“Gress.”
“It was a legitimate question, but um…”
Cherise laughed. “Yeah, the face is going to be an automatic no for most of us. It’s patronizing.”
“The humans back on Tellus said the same thing about belly rubs. I know you don’t have fur, but you have to be a little ticklish? I want to know some way to express affection that’s okay. Actually, maybe you should just, uh, look at the viewport. That’s why I was trying to have Taylor come to, but the temptation is just so…viewport. No talking for Gress.”
“Whatever’s beneath this cage better knock my socks off, if you want me to forget this exchange,” I grumbled.
“It will! Look: the view should be unobstructed.”
The Krev sheepishly buried his head in his chest, muttering what appeared to be curses at himself; rolling into a partial ball and hiding his face seemed akin to blushing for us. “Cuteness overload” had gotten the better of Gress a few times, which in a strange way, made me feel better about Avor hating us. If that was their gut reaction to us, they couldn’t hate us, right? I turned my eyes to the viewport, and searched for my first glimpse of the planet. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but it wasn’t the massive sea of floating construction that met my gaze.
Beneath the protection of the Cage, dozens of rotating rings at different orbits were somehow propping platforms along their lengths—the buildings were levitating up above the lush globe, as if held aloft by telekinesis. The modules were much more complex than the ones we’d had back on Mars, and marked the outline of the city; other structures were built on the underside, hanging down in the planet’s direction. Ships like ours landed by the hundreds on different hubs on the rings, which also could act as slingshots for takeoff; it was clear that the Krev tended to launch up here, rather than needing to generate the energy to escape their gravity well. Certain platforms seemed devoted entirely to the military, just like many outposts on their two lunar satellites outside The Cage.
To enable transit between the surface and orbit, it seemed the Krev favored tunnels which extended all the way into the atmosphere—and likely continued on to the cities. The rings made it possible to connect with any city on the globe’s circumference; by rotating in time with the planet, the tunnels could stay in place. Gress was right about this entire orbital…metropolis, flourishing and bustling with people…facilitating transit both to the stars and the surface. It was one of the most magnificent things I’d ever seen; questions poured into my head, wanting to understand how it worked. I felt my mouth parting in an o-shape, as I tried to form words.
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It's strikingly beautiful. Imagine the engineering that must’ve gone into this. Engineers like Kabir…no, don’t think that. Ask something about how it works.
“How do the platforms…” I fumbled.
Gress hummed in acknowledgement. “Stay propped up by the rings? I told you earlier. Magnets.”
“Can you walk across the entire circumference of the platforms?” Cherise asked. “I can see what looks like enclosed bridges, between settlements.”
“You sure can, and you can catch a ride between rings too! Inside the settlements’ system, there’s an entire artificial atmosphere…and being this close to Avor, there’s natural gravity. You can also go down to any surface settlement from here, which you’ll get to experience firsthand.”
I chuckled to myself. “This is something. How many people live up here?”
“A billion? There’s some Krev who like the view from space, and others who prefer a more traditional home. We don’t build colonies, but there has to be somewhere for us to move to…with eleven billion souls, on the last population census. That counts the Jaslips, all two billion on Avor, who have their largest enclave in Consortium space on our polar ice caps.”
“If I were them, I’d build their new digs up here, with some upside-down skyscrapers over a planet: not in some frigid wasteland. I mean, shit man. If you can scrounge up this much raw materials, you didn’t need those resources at all.”
“We most certainly do not. Asteroid trawlers give us all we need, and more. When we return your payments, with interest, perhaps you can at least see it as a good investment. Everything you see here, it can belong to Tellus. To humanity. If you wanted to live in the Space Rings, Terrans would be welcome, of course. I hope you’ll have diplomats in an annex by the Tonvos District.”
Cherise twirled her dark hair around her finger. “Tonvos District? You’re throwing a lot of words around, Gress. We’ve never seen anything like this. And for what it’s worth, I never liked you profiting off our work…but now, I see it was a pittance compared to what would be of true value to you.”
“Tonvos is probably just a name, like we use for any of our places. It didn’t translate, so I assume its meaning is as a title,” I said. “Nice to see you admit I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t stand paying off the Krev, by the way. You haven’t offered Gress much commentary about your feelings throughout this saga.”
“It’s not appropriate, Taylor. My past feelings shouldn’t be said aloud, when they’re about the interstellar superpower that we need help from.”
“Oh, I like it when you’re yourself. That’s part of why I picked Taylor.” Gress reached over to pat my leg, before seeming to remember my directive to keep his claws away. “It was wonderful to see something open, and genuine. I felt like I learned more about him from his anger than the years prior. I was hoping to encourage him to come out of his shell…and to show him that, even if Mayor Hathaway likes disingenuous praise, the Krev don’t. I see potential in him…a chance to be better.”
“I don’t see what was better about attacking you, and giving you a piece of my mind. What are you even saying? Cuss out everyone I see…explode like a loose cannon? That was a low moment for me.”
“Taylor, you were raised to believe that all aliens would murder you, at the mere sight of you, and your entire species was almost killed. You were locked underground, to hide your face and toil on behalf of the colony, and raised without your parents from what I’ve gathered. Add on a head injury, years of resentment toward us, and guilt…anyone would’ve snapped. It’s understandable. I don’t know if I could’ve endured what you, Cherise, and all humanity have.”
Cherise slumped her shoulders. “Yeah. I was fortunate to have some family on the ark. I wasn’t alone. I have a few good memories, cooking with my uncle…watching drunken patrons get tossed by him, with his no-nonsense attitude for bullshit. Taylor had to figure everything out for himself.”
“Whatever my circumstances, I made shitty decisions that will eat me up to my dying breath; the drill explosion being the worst. I don’t think I should get a free pass, or bring others down with me by acting out on Avor,” I huffed.
“Of course not. I do hope you’ll find better ways to cope, and that I can help.” Gress stared out at the viewport, as we drifted closer to a ring—seeming to travel in the opposite direction to its rotation. “I’m just saying, don’t tell us what you think we want to hear, or sing our praises. Be polite on Avor, but be candid. Speak the truth, even if it’s unpleasant, and don’t worry about censoring your true opinions. Be done pretending, like you said you wanted to be.”
“Guess I can manage that. It’ll be nice not to have to tap dance around anything vaguely violent or predatory.”
“Would you like me to act afraid of your eyes, just so you can have something familiar to latch onto?”
Cherise groaned. “Please no. Unfamiliar territory is perfectly fine by me.”
Gress snickered to himself; I found it odd that an alien would tease us. It was nice that someone from another species found the Federation’s reaction to our eyes laughable. The Krev rent collector had liberated me from the burden of having to sweet talk the Consortium officials; it would be nice not to have to hide parts of myself, or pretend ever again. That was the only way to live with the things I couldn’t unsee—to stop feeling sick over what I’d done, on the Mayor’s behalf. From now on, I wanted to be a man of action, and an open book.
It did feel good when I finally got all of those feelings I bottled up toward the Krev out, whether Cherise or anyone thinks it’s appropriate. It’s time to truly stand for humanity, and to find a way to contribute something meaningful.
Our ship continued to drift opposite the ring’s rotation, leading me to ponder the obvious question of how we were planning on landing; this seemed to be a textbook example of complicating a task way more than was necessary. As I was about to vocalize some doubts about our heading, something latched onto the rear of our ship with a harsh click. There was a slight jolt, the sensation of being tugged backward. I chuckled to myself, finally recognizing the genius of how the Krev planned to slow us down. They’d connected some kind of harpoon to our vessel—presumably aided by a magnetic hook to attract it—and were using the massive ring’s rotation to slow us down. Once it’d begun pulling us in sync with the structure’s turning, they reeled us in via the cord.
Gress’ vessel was hauled into a landing pad, right up to the end of the tether. Clamps hooked onto the ship, securing it in place like a traditional docking port, before our host unfurled the landing ramp. He beckoned to us with eager claws, then snatched Juvre’s crate to carry the obor back to civilization with us. I exchanged a glance with Cherise, which granted me the resolve to stroll out alongside her, and give the locals their first glimpse of an unmasked human. It would be our initial peek at them as well; much of what we encountered up here could hint at how they went about their day-to-day lives. From what I could observe, once we disembarked, this hangar had been cordoned off in anticipation of our arrival.
Krev guards toted strange guns in their grip, which I doubted utilized kinetic munitions. Armed security, something that before meeting these particular aliens, I would’ve assumed was a human-exclusive tradition. They were sporting body armor too, though the plates looked a bit too thin to actually stop a speeding bullet; perhaps it was designed for comfort or as an authority symbol, rather than being tailored for effectiveness. Their scales varied in shades of green, from emerald like Gress’ form, to lime, grassy hues, mossy colors, and even turquoise. None of the personnel displayed any hostility toward us, though all eyes were turned on us. Cameras recorded the moment from the ceiling as well; the days of hiding beneath the sands were truly over.
A guard approached Gress, pointing toward a connector bridge. “We brought you in right by the train station, and as requested, we cleared the area and the next ride to Tonvos for you. The Planetary Board is waiting on the ground. Due to the nature of your requests, we must ask whether you think these cu…primates are a threat.”
“I don’t. However, the humans have serious issues on their mind, and I doubt they’d appreciate all of the unwanted attention. They’ve been through a lot, the poor darlings,” the rent collector answered.
“The story is making waves on Avor, and beyond. It’s incredible how quickly the narrative’s turned from the human invasion, into this. Seeing the politicians backpedal is quite funny, to be honest.”
“Even Felcin?”
“Somewhat. He grudgingly wants to send aid, to prevent the humans from digging out their tree hollows on our world, like the Jaslips.”
Gress snorted. “Sounds about right. Felcin will support refugees, so long as he doesn’t have to look at them. Well, I just wanted my new friends to hear where the Consortium stands. Thanks for the help.”
“Are you kidding? Saving a species like them, I’m glad to help. Have a safe ride down.”
The Krev rent collector waved us on. I followed him over the connector bridge, admiring how someone could stroll the length of the orbital ring—at least, we could manage it as persistence predators. It was doubtful any of the Consortium species could match our endurance. I waved an awkward hand at the guards, while Cherise offered a polite hello. The two of us pretended not to hear them whispering to each other about how adorable we were, as we trundled on down the tunnel. If Gress wanted my honesty, I needed to confront him about how irritating it was, being spoken of like nonsapient beings all over again—even if the reasons were altogether different. For now, I kept my eyes trained straight ahead.
The connector bridge took us up to what looked like an ordinary train station, apart from the fact that the tracks sloped down into a tunnel—one that was at a steep incline all the way down to Avor’s surface. I gulped, wondering if this was going to be the most harrowing roller coaster ride ever built. Cherise seemed to pick up on my anxiety, and tried to give a reassuring smile; I wondered if she’d seen how far down this train was heading. Gress boarded the car, oblivious to my unvoiced concerns, and tucked Juvre’s crate into a holding compartment. He slid into the first seat available, demonstrated how the harness worked, and cast an expectant look at the two seats opposite his.
“Gress?” I ventured, hating how tentative my voice sounded. “How quickly does this…shuttle go down to the planet?”
The Krev studied me for a moment. “I guess now I know your actual mannerisms for being nervous. It’s nothing to worry about, Taylor. It’s a short ride, less than half an hour: over before you know it. There’s inertial dampeners, and artificial gravity for emergencies. You won’t feel Avor’s pull, and it’ll be no different to flying a spaceship.”
“Millions of Krev seem to travel back and forth on these things on a regular basis,” Cherise ventured.
“We do. It’s a daily commute for some.”
“Exactly. That’s why I assumed it’ll be fine. They wouldn’t do this regularly if it was anything frightful.”
Nodding my head in agreement, I clipped my harness, and folded my arms across my chest. Inertial dampeners made sense as an available technology, but I didn’t want to think about what a long way it’d be to fall, if anything went wrong. Despite my apprehension over the ride down the vertical tracks, I was excited to see what marvels Avor’s surface would hold in store for us. Up here, in the Space Rings, I’d already seen technological feats I never could’ve imagined. The sooner we were on the ground, to request some of those gifts for ourselves, the sooner humanity’s new future began. That prospect alone was enough to motivate me to endure this train ride from orbit.