"[Grandfather...]" The words of Djang Ban Dai reached Sobon in spite of the pain, mostly because the man spoke slowly, and with intent. "[We know it is inexcusable, but despite our best efforts...]"
[Be at peace, Dai.] Unlike the Imperial Prince, the words of the Diamond Lord were mental, and they spoke to exactly the kind of profound practice that Sobon had expected. And, also unlike the prince, Sobon found that she--if she could really be called a person anymore, let alone female--couldn't escape their meaning and their subtext. [We were more than capable of monitoring your progress from here. The cushion, if you would.]
Alasi's severed head was already all but being preserved by the Prince's qi, but when it was placed on a cushion on a small pedestal, another, somewhat more powerful effect took over the effort. It was a relief; under different circumstances... no, Sobon could admit that even as a cyborg, having your spine ripped straight out of your skull would have been a level of trauma beyond his ability to recover from on his own. There was no way to do that level of violence, even surgically, without removing parts of the brain, and despite the Ri'lef resurrection protections... Sobon felt like she had lost a very literal part of herself, even as someone used to detachable prosthetics.
No, assuming Sobon lived again, today would be a mark that never left. That kind of spiritual damage...
While Sobon was considering, the Diamond Lord and the Imperial Prince exchanged a few more words, and then the latter was excused. Once the Diamond Lord, ruler of the Djang Empire and strongest man in the world, was alone with the severed head of Alassi, he simply waved a hand in Sobon's direction.
Nothing regrew, but Sobon's pain faded, and her... his? spiritual distress eased. Sobon looked up at the man, blinking, then glanced around, taking in the room for the first time.
Sobon might have expected he would be brought to a meditation room, a work room, or perhaps the excavation site for the Founder's facility, but the room that surrounded him... her? Sobon wasn't sure he even counted as alive anymore, much less as being Alassi, but the room around him was like a lounge, with many plush cushions on the ground organized in circles around low tables, as though a number of friends would sit on around to discuss the matters of the day in comfort. Above were many cloth awnings that fluttered in the breeze, and all the walls of the room were stone bricks laid out in patterns entirely unlike those the Djang architecture Sobon had so far seen.
When he finally turned his gaze to the Diamond Lord, he found the man studying his eyes so intently that even Sobon felt profound disquiet. He was no stranger to people able to see through him; the Marines had many counselors and mental healers on staff, and attendance was mandatory at least once a year. If Sobon were back in those circumstances... he couldn't help imagining the look of pity they would have for him, as people who understood spiritual violence and wounds in ways he himself never would.
But the Diamond Lord's gaze was... not so clinical.
[Crestan,] the familiar voice said, as the Diamond Lord sank to a nearby cushion. [Pity about your circumstances. I suppose you were gambling on fate, but the fate of this world is not kind to anyone, from its greatest lord to its lowest peasant.]
Sobon... took some effort, because of the spiritual damage, but was able to form the coherent thoughts she knew he could. [The Diamond Lord... in name only, I assume.]
[I was curious if you had guessed.] The Diamond Lord barely gestured, but lifted off the cushion, seeming a bit more comfortable as all the weight came off his body. [I imagine you still have many questions. I would be curious just how much you do understand, and what you've only guessed at.]
[I saw you at the other end of the future,] Sobon said. [Your aether signature matched the spirit form you sent to speak with me.]
[Impressive attention to detail,] the Diamond Lord noted, though Sobon knew the man was only filling in the awkward quiet as Sobon nursed her headache.
[If you wouldn't mind my asking...] Sobon knew it was a dumb question, but now, confronted by the truth... he could feel, at last, that his mission was over, or at least, the urgency was--except suddenly, most of the questions left her mind, as a wave of pain and panic crossed through her spirit, the injuries flaring through her whole being anew.
She was forced to start thinking of a question from scratch, and so she asked the first thing that came to mind.
[What... is your answer, if I can ask?] Sobon paused as the Diamond Lord adjusted something in her spirit, quieting the waves of nausea, terror, and panic that was gripping her. In all... she wasn't sure how she was managing to hold together enough to have a conversation at all. Most likely, it had more to do with the man in front of her than it had to do with his cyborg history.
His? Her? Its? Was Sobon dead?
[My answer...] The Diamond Lord, no stranger to picking apart intent, still seemed to fumble with Sobon's question, no doubt because her mind had been frayed when he'd asked it. [Oh... about myth?]
[Yes, that.] Sobon tried to use the question to focus on herself again, focus on her mind, be able to think. It was only a marginally successful effort. [I--]
Suddenly, in a flash, Sobon existed again.
It wasn't a thing that made sense, even knowing what Sobon knew. He looked down at his body--not Alassi's, but not Sobon's, either. It was more like a puppet's; the consistency of its spirit was too even to act even like a good prosthetic, and the joints were all rough. But all of Sobon's missing spiritual parts were replaced with, at least, a rough approximation, and the panic subsided, as all of Sobon's and Alassi's joint instincts on how a body was supposed to work were suddenly correct again.
[Myth...] The first word that Sobon heard without it being swallowed up in his own agony was filled, he suddenly realized, with disgust. [In truth, you won't find any closure in my answer, Crestan. The idea of myth was on my mind not because of prophecy or grand social architectural problems. It has not left my mind ever since I murdered my predecessor and put us all into this unfortunate situation.]
Sobon turned and, in lieu of blinking suddenly, projected his confusion. [Your predecessor?]
[Suffice it to say I felt... betrayed. I am, in a sense, still very young and inexperienced, in spite of my centuries. I believed I was being brought here to help make things better. I was told in no uncertain terms that my beliefs were a myth, and specifically, the very same sort of aether backed myth that you speak so much of.]
Sobon's head was more than simply fuzzy, although with a prosthetic body and spirit temporarily holding the worst consequences at bay, his mind was able to function, at least. [Aether backed... as in, your society allows itself to be deceived, so that things can continue as they have been?]
[Adequately summarized,] The Diamond Lord actually clapped his hands, and not even too sarcastically or ironically, a very strange gesture from the man. [Without going into detail--not until you can convince me you already understand the basics already--I thought we were... a more noble people. But they were content with more sacrifices than I expected. And I... also may have misunderstood my predecessor. The actual details, once I looked into them, more supported his his choice of actions than mine.]
Sobon closed his eyes and tried to shut out most sensations other than the conversation, only to open them again and turn to stare at the floating figure of the Diamond Lord. [I... suppose I had hoped that the Founders society was somewhat more stable than that, given how immensely powerful you all are.]
The Diamond Lord's mouth stretched into a wide smile--unnaturally so, and then his body dissolved into sand, reforming into a figure that Sobon had only ever seen in official Crestan Navy briefings. The Founder that hung in the air was a grey-skinned humanoid with larger-than-human eyes, ones that appeared all black at a casual glance. His mouth, too, was too wide; in contrast, while there seemed to be holes for nose and ears, there was no flesh there to mark them. Hairless, sexless, naked, and far shorter than the Diamond Lord had been, the being might have appeared innocent or harmless, if there was any way to capture an image of them that didn't exude immense spiritual pressure.
Sobon didn't dare look too closely at the details, but according to Crestan intelligence, their physiology really wasn't all that different from human, just... incredibly advanced, and entirely customized by extremely early adaptation to aether. Early, and deep. Sobon had no doubt that every cell in this being's body was attuned to aether more complex than Sobon himself had ever wielded.
For whatever reason, the Founder spoke out loud, and without intent, as though the entire thing with speaking intent was nothing more than a trivial fabrication, a roleplay that he had dropped instantly. "I can understand the outer races wishing to believe that we were as wise and all-knowing as we pretend to be. Rather than being wise, we would say that we are adults, and all the rest of the universe are children. In the case of lesser-developed races, such as the ones of this planet, they are more infants than children, still having barely begun to learn."
Sobon considered that, but the being continued. "Since it will be necessary to address sooner or later, I would appreciate if you would explain your concept of a [Hand]. You don't need to worry about getting it wrong; it's inevitable, and quite forgivable."
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"A hand..." Sobon did her best to recall what the Ri'lef had said, trying slowly to piece together the thoughts she'd had afterwards. "A Hand is a social organization designed to grasp the future. It's a metaphor describing how social groups must specialize and work together as a whole; some act, like muscles, some support like bones, some protect like skin, some coordinate like nerves."
"A good start," the founder waved one grey-skinned hand, eagerly. "Continue. Theorize, if you've reached the end of your knowledge."
Sobon frowned at that, feeling like they were getting further away from the discussion of myth--and further still from any practical conversation. Still, he continued. "I... suppose that a hand, in particular, doesn't have a brain, though--no decision making nexus, but it's also not designed for the pieces to work together. Not a democracy, or a collective. Biologically, it's supposed to be a part of a larger whole."
"Not inaccurate, though generally, we acknowledge that as a shortcoming of the metaphor rather than an extension of it." Suddenly, the Founder slipped back to its feet from its floating position, and began to pace. "In truth, I am beginning to believe that what you've said is in fact the point, in ways that only further my sense of betrayal."
"You see, I considered myself to be a part of a Hand, one that exists--so I thought--to resist corruption in other parts. A Hand that fights our excesses and callous behavior towards to child races. Without getting into the metaphor, I thought I existed only to destroy disease, and as such, I was tasked with reporting here, to a member of the Greatest Circle, to ensure that a diseased Child planet would not contaminate others."
"When I discovered that the local administrator's definition of a 'diseased planet' amounted to a few architectural problems, I naively believed they simply were not trying hard enough, and reiterated my own belief that we existed to help child species grow into adults. It is this that my predecessor called a 'myth'. And in truth, perhaps this is not wrong. As a society, we wish to believe firmly in our adulthood, and we wish to believe well of ourselves."
"Given my unfortunate reaction," the Founder said, turning and offering Sobon a surprisingly human expression of guilt, despite their alien features, "I can certainly say that we as a species are not too advanced to make grave mistakes."
Sobon considered all that, trying to ignore the pounding headache and occasional flashes of trauma and strangeness that he suspected may never go away, but certainly not in this body. "There's always a difference between species and individuals," she said, finally.
"There is, of course." The alien turned and continued pacing for a moment, then stopped and pivoted to look straight at Sobon. "You know, Crestan... I like you."
Sobon blinked several times, sending a packetized response that was a generally accepted shorthand for 'you need to explain yourself better than that' with some wry humor undertones.
"Sorry. And I know, it's a terrible time for you to talk. Rest assured, you will have time to rest. But I... have not had anyone to talk to in a while. I hope you won't mind if i am selfish for a little while longer." The Founder took a deep breath, and half turned away, looking at nothing in particular, for a long moment.
And then he spoke again. "You know," he said, "in Founder society, it's considered impolite to have a gender in public."
Sobon blinked, not having heard that. "Gender in the sense of identity?"
The creature nodded. "I have been monitoring you, usually indirectly. I caught your discussion with your... how shall I say? Nestmates?" The sense Sobon got was that the Founder knew the term was ridiculous, but lacked a good grasp of Sobon's culture, or perhaps, human cultures in general. "About how your gender was no one else's business, except in those rare cases where you chose it to be so. We consider that to be a bare minimum of acceptable behavior, simply as a matter of... shall I say cleanliness?" It cocked its head, then nodded. "Sanitation, perhaps. A variant on that concept."
"You mean aether contamination," Sobon said, mostly guessing. "Because gender is a spiritual transmission of a personal truth."
"You are close enough that there's no reason to quibble over the differences." The Founder turned and cast itself back into a floating rest-state. "Gender and power do not mix, or I should say, gender and a power differential. A being of sufficient aether strength can simply decide that another should be attracted to them, and reality will bend in favor of that outcome. On the level of crude biology, this even seems appropriate. But one does not need to advance much past being an infant to see that being manipulated by others is not a positive outcome."
Do... they think we reach puberty as infants? Sobon blinked, and repressed any judgmental thoughts, for now, trying to focus and stay sane, for the moment.
"It's for that reason, I suppose," the Founder went on, "that I look at you and see something much closer to adult than anyone on this planet--any other child race I've seen, in fact. Not for any intellectual reason, but on instinct. You consider yourself gender-less, and without that, you could not possibly have remained focused on this corrupt, juvenile world, especially in a body of a foreign sex." The founder gestured at Sobon with one hand. "Any one of my people would see that aspect of you and understand it as maturity."
"Because I don't care about having sex?" Sobon was fine with the idea that they considered that mature, but it seemed like a very strange thing to be complimented on.
"Vhai-ziil," the Founder said, sounding perhaps a bit harsh, and Sobon frowned, completely unsure of the translation. "Because you do not push your identity onto others, on a spiritual level. If in your private life you had a hundred wives, it would still not be the business of anyone else. Your public persona is your identity with no private details included. I believe the closest word is 'professional', but I do not like the implications of it."
Sobon just stared at the Founder, and after a moment, it shook its head.
"All of this has been an aside," it admitted, sounding frustrated. "The intent of the aside was that I see you, the individual, as far more mature than anyone else in this society. Likely, I would find you more to my liking than many others of your own world, though I will plead ignorance. I was never intended to be a... outward-facing member of our Hand."
Sobon sighed and nodded. "So you... killed the Diamond Lord. When? Why?"
"For the reasons you suspect, I'm sure." The Founder huffed. "For when... what does it matter? I suppose what you're asking was whether it was part of the inciting incident or not, and no, the Diamond Lord only died recently. I have been at a loss in how to replace him adequately, as I have been at a loss since killing my predecessor. Regrettably, this is a matter that should have been left to a specialist, and I am not that specialist."
There was a pause, so Sobon vocalized what he thought he understood. "So he broke into the facility... where you had been hiding, I suppose, since you murdered your colleague and disabled the communications. That lack of communications brought the Ri'lef here, and then the Diamond Lord found the place and broke in. But..." But things still didn't add up.
The Founder made a noise, which registered to Sobon as annoyed. "As I said. I was naive at first, and I believed that the solution to this problem was for the locals to regain control over their world rather than for them to be controlled by my own meddling. So I... increased the aether flows to the planet, above the normal operational thresholds."
Sobon frowned. Hadn't the Ri'lef captain said, ah, right. "The Ri'lef thought that was due to damage to the facility."
"Of course they would. Because I screwed up everything, and all of my efforts to contain the situation only made it worse." Sobon struggled to conceal her reaction to the Founder suddenly snarling and throwing a fit, though doubtless she couldn't hide anything from them. "I thought I understood the aether composition and the structural diagrams, but I was naive. Even among our people, the knowledge necessary to actually properly use these kinds of facilities is highly regulated. My understanding was beyond flawed, any my naivety threatens this world."
"And then the Ri'lef showed up."
"I wasn't responsible for the Diamond Lord's decision to bring down their ship. He had some wisdom, having been tutored in various things by my predecessor, but he was still a child. He panicked, just as I did, and everything only got worse. Then the Ri'lef panicked, and created their Starbeast breeding program, and the locals discovered just how useful their cores were." The founder put one hand to their forehead and massaged it. "This whole debacle has been one foolish choice after another, from start to finish."
"So why did--or how did the Diamond Lord get to the facility?"
"Obviously I allowed it," the Founder said, sounding perhaps a bit cross with itself. "I hoped that I could be an adequate replacement mentor. That was foolish. I admitted what I had, also foolish. He thought he could challenge me, which was... perhaps only ignorant. But I crushed him without really understanding just how much trouble replacing him would be."
"So all this time you've simply pretended to be him when his people come to visit."
The founder shrugged, a bit theatrically. "I may not be able to regulate world energies, but I can pretend to be a stupid, brutish child just fine."
Sobon let her thoughts run ahead of himself for a bit, wincing at the twinges, before speaking again. "You said you expected my mission to change, once I understood the truth. Change, rather than end."
"Yes." The Founder hopped back out of its floating stance and onto its feet, then the sands reappeared around it, assembling into the Diamond Lord. [I trust that you understand, Crestan, that the opinion of the Founders, and their estimation as to this planet's future, will not change unless someone changes it. It must be civilized, and grow at least from being brutish infants into being merely petulant children. They will inevitably come here, and they must see a more civil world, even if its development remains backwards.]
Sobon looked at the Diamond Lord, or rather, the alien master disguising itself as the most powerful man in the world. "You can't do that yourself." The words weren't a question, though she sent along the implication that she needed clarification.
[I can't, the Ri'lef can't, and I think you're coming to understand that you can't, as well.] The Founder stepped closer, looking down on Sobon's puppet body. [Foreigners can guide, but locals must take charge of their own fate. And the one responsible for this atrocity must also be the one to delay the day of judgement. When the Founders come, the one responsible will leave with them. I believe that the military will allow more interested Hands to send representatives to study the world. It will likely be decades, or perhaps centuries, before those monitors are ready for an official decision, but only decades before they have a preliminary one.]
[Show progress, and you will buy more time. This world will make it difficult on you, and on whomever you choose. But whatever you or the Ri'lef may think of me, Sobon of Crest, you are the only one I know whom I can see as an adult, capable of overseeing this project. I wish there were more options; I know you are not a specialist in any of this. And if worst comes to worst... you will have simply failed to prevent the inevitable. That is not shameful.]
"You want me to raise Ki'el up to be the next Diamond Lord?" Sobon raised an eyebrow.
[Your adopted child, or members of the Imperial House, or anyone else in the world you choose. I wouldn't recommend putting all your faith in the first person you meet, but then, perhaps that is how fate will balance things out. Perhaps all of your suffering, and mine, and all of theirs, is balanced against us finding the right people for the job in spite of it all.]
Sobon made a face. "Is that really how fate works?"
The Diamond Lord just laughed. "No," he said, with his voice, and it came out an exceptionally smooth baritone. "No, Sobon of Crest, it is not. But perhaps, just perhaps, it is how luck works."
Sobon just sighed, closing her eyes against the pain in her head.