Rothfurd calmed his nerves as the assisted navigation system routed his bubble ship towards the GKC - The God King's complex.
The bubble ship embodied a lot of the Irvanian ideals. All complexity abstracted to the point of invisibility, the bubble ship had no controls, no steering mechanism, no status dashboards that old ships sported. True to its name, it resembled a soap bubble speeding through space, a small quantity of malleable nanomaterial taking shape of whatever furniture the passenger needed at the moment.
The celestial complex loomed before Rothfurd. More than anything else, it looked like a caged star. Over the centuries, the energy needs of Imperator Irathor's massive computation machinery had grown so huge that the only way to keep its hunger sated was to latch on to a star directly.
Where the Illustrious Torus was a ring of construction around a planet, the God King's complex was a triple-layered spherical contraption that encased a star completely. Each layer was composed of a hexagonal grid of interlocked machinery. From the innermost layers, probes extended deep inwards towards the star to maximally harness its energy.
The GKC was consisted only of machinery - a vast network of interconnected systems that had evolved over the centuries. Nobody lived here, except Irathor himself. But whether Irathor was a human anymore was a contentious topic. Over many years, the Imperator Supreme had integrated himself with so many augmentations and discarded so much of his human shell, there was not a distinction anymore where his body ended and this vast complex began. It was a lonely existence. But such was the cost of power that came with the mantle of the God King.
As Rothfurd's ship requested permission to dock on the outermost layer of GKC, probes extended out and hooked into the ship. His soul signature was analyzed and after confirmation, an alert popped up on the ship's screen seeking access to the data banks in the ship. Rothfurd waved off the alert - it was a formality, of course. The God King could access whatever data he wanted through the various organizations he controlled. The permission request was just a courtesy. But even as he mentally approved the permission, he chucked at the acronym in the title of the notification box - "Access request by G.O.D. K.In.G."
The God King had not always been the revered mantle as it was today. It had started off as a computer science project - an unprecedented powerful centralized system to establish galactic stability and bring an end to the conflicts between various departments and divisions of galactic governance that had been spiraling out of control as the Irvanian empire had rapidly expanded. This computational grid, built at a scale that was unprecedented in all the empire, was led by Irathor himself, who had code-named it G.O.D. K.In.G. - Galactic Operation Dispatch and Knowledge Incorporation Grid. The name was supposed to be temporary, until a better one could be found. Centuries later, it was evident that the name was anything but.
The probe from GKC analyzed all the data that Rothfurd had brought along with him. The God King's top most priority was to ensure stability in the empire. And Zenith Fidaeus's plan to position itself as a new player in Zythramine production was a potential threat to that stability. Rothfurd knew that this plan was bold, but the summon by the God King had truly driven home just how bold it was. If this was approved, this could absolutely upend the power balance in Irvanian industry.
Genocides had been committed for much less. He wouldn't blame the God King, if he decided to shut down this project in the name of galactic security. He would be disheartened - yes, but he wouldn't complain. Not that there was anyone to complain to. The God King was the ultimate authority. His word was law.
The God King analyzed an unfathomable scale of data every second, computing and predicting an enormous array of possibilities that may or may not happen over the next hundreds of years. Its complete attention was never targeted to a single topic, no matter how important. A single processing core, out of septillions, analyzed all of Rothfurd's plans, their research, their association with Illustrious Academy, the collaboration with Norman, his Zythramine production proposal - in less than a second.
A series of alerts popped up on Rothfurd's screen:
- Defensive Aegis contract project: APPROVED
- Concerns about association with Helicon insurgency: VOIDED
- Merger proposal by Ortimus conglomerate: VOIDED
- Complaint #9234987 - Imperial penalty; Networking equipment certification: VOIDED
- Complaint #9303984 - Imperial penalty; Mesh networking certification: VOIDED
- Complaint #97234923 - Imperial penalty; Deep space intermesh certification: VOIDED
- ....
Rothfurd stared at the stream of notifications, gaping. The merger proposal he had been battling for months with the board of stakeholders to resist had been voided by the God King in a fraction of a second. As was every single proposed penalty by the Ortimus conglomerate. It looked like they had finally done something that was dangerous enough to warrant Imperial attention.
The stream eventually came to an end:
- Further collaboration with Ortimus Conglomerate: PROHIBITED
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- Zythramine production proposal #92398742: APPROVED (Subject to Protectorate supervision)
A tear ran down Rothfurd's cheeks.
The project was not being shut down. Of course, the Protectorate was going to supervise something of this magnitude. But it was approved. Zenith Fidaeus had a future - it would truly be an institution that outlived its founders.
The GKC output was not yet complete, though. After a second of pause, a new message appeared:
- Funding proposal #7234234: 5,309,752 Sol
Rothfurd had to triple check the figure to be sure. More than five million sol. That was a fortune that most guilds could only dream of. Only a handful of guilds in all of Irvanian history had received that a funding of that scale from the Imperial governance in all of history.
As the probe disconnected, and Rothfurd's ship was routed out of the complex, he sat dazed, contemplating what all that money could potentially accomplish.
Unknown to Rothfurd, the routine continued to run in a background job, processing every connection to this project in minute detail. And one of the key aspects being analyzed was the life of a fourth year student, who had so far stayed completely under the radar of Imperial supervision.
Every data collected from every government agency was eventually funneled to the God King's intelligence system where it was indexed, analyzed and cross-correlated for potential anomalies.
The system first flagged Norman's numerous projects. That would have not been a reason in itself for threat level escalation, except for his interest in Yaskh - a race that had once been a sworn enemy of Irvanian empire.
As the anomaly detection system continued to rifle through every aspect of Norman's life, anomalies continued to stack. Him being involved in a violent accident in Yokidon, him attempting a suicide, him taking down assailants without prior combat experience, him talking to unseen imaginary audiences on several occasions...
Finally, the system flagged his cultivation pods - an algal species that had once been known to have used by Yaskh, but had since been lost to time.
Norman should not have been cultivate that algal species. Not unless he had direct access to a Yaskh settlement that the empire did not have registered. Once the system identified a definitive proof that this species could not be cross-correlated with any other source within the GKC data records, Norman's thread assessment level escalated.
The system added Norman to the Magisterium's supervision list, first with a "Casual Supervision Suggested" flag, which then escalated to "Close Supervision Recommended" flag.
Secondary analysis routines were spawned with elevated privileges that now had access to Norman's private records, his search history, his holcom records and his location history from every Academy issued device and vehicle.
Iterating through his search history, the system found an array of unexpected search queries:
"Are Saan sentient?"
...
"Is the Saan mycelia a hive mind?"
...
"How to communicate with Saan?"
The Saan had played an instrumental role in the evolution of human civilization. Their vast galactic mycelial network still served as the foundation for most Irvanian technologies. Except the GKC. The GKC was established to demonstrate to the Saan that the human civilization was capable of standing on its own.
Even before the supervision list could be synced to the Magisterium, it was revoked by the privileged secondary routine. Norman's search on Nightwyrms had been found.
GKC's alternative to the Saan hive mind system, advocated by Irathor, was sophisticated centralized governance over independent individuals. Irathor's lifelong mission was to prove and demonstrate that this was a better solution. That individualism could be preserved.
After all, a system like GKC was not prone to the kind of split-brain corruptions that had resulted in abominations like the Nightwyrms. The civilization may have forgotten about Nightwyrms, thanks to the insane amount of resources that both the Magisterium and Protectorate had spent over the centuries to scrub their references.
But the God King remembered it all. He remembered how a single seed of corruption in the Saan hive mind had grown into an abomination, so powerful, that even ascended races had been threatened.
Suppressing and abolishing the Nightwyrms had been the sole reason why Irathor's complex had been allowed to continue to exist in the zeroth realm, despite having grown powerful beyond any and all intelligent races in the entire universe. And now, someone was trying to dig up the empire's dirty past. Norman's investigation may be at a nascent stage now, but if left unchecked, it could very well threaten God King's continued dominance.
His name was immediately removed from the Magisterium's supervision list. It was instead added to Protectorate's highest threat list. With an "Extreme Supervision Mandated" flag. The only reason why the addition was not accompanied by a Detain-Or-Terminate order was because there was no hard evidence of Norman breaking any law.
---
Councilor Leptimus received a notification the next day through his contacts in the Protectorate. Norman's threat ranking had been elevated from 0 to 193. Rank 192 had also been a recent escalation - Flavia Ortimus.
Leptimus sat confused, looking at the notification. Threat rankings higher than 200 were reserved for individuals or organizations deemed as threats to the stability of the empire. Typically, insurgents, terrorists or people suspected of conspiracy. If there was even a shred of evidence of any wrongdoing, the Protectorate could detain and confine a ranked individual indefinitely.
Leptimus tapped through and called his erstwhile student in the Protectorate. Melinda had been expecting the call - news travels fast.
Dispensing with formalities, Leptimus urged her, "I think there has been a mistake. How did Norman get allocated a sub-two-hundred threat ranking? I am suspecting some kind of mix up."
Frowning, Melinda tapped through the records, and as she navigated through the recent alterations, her frown only deepened. "Councilor, I don't think there is a mix up."
"Really? Can you please help me understand what caused the Protectorate to assign this threat ranking?"
"I can't." Melinda's response was curt and stress was evident in her voice.
Leptimus was frustrated now, "Melinda, we have collaborated for so many years. You owe me this much. Norman is a prodigy - this is something that can destroy his career."
"Leptimus, I don't mean that I don't want to, or that I am restricted to. I literally can't. Because it wasn't us who assigned that threat ranking. We received a decree straight from the God King."
Leptimus was astonished. "What?"
"Yes. Both of the recent changes in the threat rankings - for Norman and Flavia, came from the God King. They are somehow connected."
With trembling hands, the retired war hero disconnected the call. The God King would not make mistakes.
He needed to head over to the Illustrious Torus in person. He needed to find out what had actually happened.