“It’s called a technological singularity. A point at which technological advancement happens faster than a civilisation can cope with.”

- Hob

***Outer Rim***

***Antioch***

“That was quicker than expected!” I raise an inquisitive eyebrow and watch the blue, stick-like alien bowing in greeting in front of my throne… couch. It’s hard to project any dignity if I am being smothered by my wives from both sides. Silith is on my left, while Fiona got the spot to my right with Lisandra next to her. The two of them have some sort of agreement on who will sit next to me on a given day since Silith’s spot seems to be fixed.

All of them are wearing skin-tight dresses, probably to do me a favour. Ever since I took them out on a date, and thanks to Martin’s advice, they were really nice to me. And by nice, I mean nice. Like bringing me food and other little activities which might not be obvious. Silith even forgot about the little trick I played on her and if Martin is right, then repeating this once a month is a little price to pay for peace.

I stop my reminiscence and study the alien in front of us, ignoring the guards who are waiting at the walls.

Hob’s little inertia-less ship appeared four days after we recalibrated the warp-drive according to Fiona’s instructions and called him. This time, the alien ship that appeared had a shiny, new plating of diamond-armour. Its cylindrical shape was once again a conundrum for our people. Ever since we encountered one of Hob’s ships for the first time, we wondered how it can move without visible propulsion.

That led to the invention of our own gravity-based drives, but we are nowhere near cramming that technology into a hull which isn’t even a hundred metres in length.

In return, Hob clearly cracked the secret behind the information we gave him. Him failing to make another appearance must mean that he decided that trade with people whose offerings came with a sting in the tail isn’t worth the effort.

Back then, we told him what diamond-armour is and explained the principles behind it, but we didn’t mention that it was impossible to make without the ability to arrange atoms on a molecular level. We practically sold him the idea without the machinery to actually make the armour, an underhanded trick on our part.

How to call him was a little piece of knowledge which would’ve been nice to have two decades ago, but Fiona couldn’t be bothered to use her brain for something other than scheming inter-familiar relationships.

“And I can see that you have been busy. Very busy indeed.” Hob waves a long arm, indicating the colony as a whole. “The changes you made to yourselves are quite drastic. A sentient race with the reproduction rate of mallivian mice. Do you intend to overrun the galaxy with your reproduction abilities alone? Even I know only a few species who could match your species’ growth rate… and I believe that I should know most of what’s going on in the galaxy.”

“I doubt that it will come to that,” I answer honestly. “We can control our numbers, but at this point, there is no reason to do so. I assume that you know why we called you?”

“Trade?” Hob asks hopefully, rubbing his hands. “There is nothing else I am interested in.”

“Yes,” Silith answers from next to me, taking charge of the negotiations. “We want to buy knowledge, legal and illegal. The cost doesn’t matter as long as the exchange is equal. We seek significant technological advancement.”

Hob places his hands in a praying gesture of anticipation. “There is nothing better than equal exchange. We will have to see where our knowledge doesn’t align, and what can be exchanged to the benefit of both parties.”

Then the haggling starts, and I zone out. Silith was always better at this sort of stuff. Ever since we met, I was glad to hand such responsibilities off to her. Trade negotiations require a certain amount of ruthlessness, paired with the ability to come up on the spot with arguments which twist the truth and on rare occasions even reality itself. Hob doesn’t seem to care, and so I listen silently as the negotiations advance, pushing the final agreement back and forth like in a game of tag.

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Hob seems a little troubled when Lisandra and Fiona join in with arguments of their own. As a species with only one consciousness, he doesn’t seem to be coping well with being swarmed by several people at once. Or is it because he has to deal with three women at the same time? But I have no pity for him. It’s not like he ever gave us anything for free.

Finally, my wives arrive at a final conclusion, hopefully giving us the technological boost we need. The arrangement is simple: we will share some of our knowledge of nano-assembly techniques with Hob. In exchange, he will give us an encyclopedia on a tier eleven tech-base, the technological standard for the G.S. core-worlds. It won’t contain any military secrets, but once we know the basics, we can recreate them. The G.S. fleet is already doing a pretty good job at demonstrating their capabilities.

Our reasons for buying the technology are many. It isn’t that we can’t develop the technology in question on our own. It’s about seeing what an alien mind came up with, and how we can adapt their technology to our advantage. Knowing their take on physics may also allow us to find weaknesses in their technology. It wouldn’t be the first time for an army to fall victim to a basic flaw in the construction of their equipment.

Martin shows up just in time to see the end of the negotiations, signalling that he needs to talk to us.

With our business concluded, Hob excuses himself in the typical manner of a busy tradesman and retreats. My general waits for the alien to leave the throne room, several guards seeing to his expedient departure.

Once the door is closed, he turns to face us. “They know.”

“Who knows what?” Fiona asks.

“The G.S. know that something is up. We can tell from the manner in which they move their ships around. It’s clear that the revelation of the gateways requires a rethinking of their plans, but they are too careful about their ship-deployment. They are not only trying to avoid getting caught off-guard by the Cyber, they are also manoeuvring their ships in a manner which allows them to avoid us. Especially at the fringe-zones where their territory overlaps with ours.” He shrugs. “I don’t know how exactly they reasoned it out, but they did. They are just not stating the obvious, hoping that it delays a possible reaction from us.”

I hum and scratch my chin, then pull absent-mindedly at my earlobe as I try to adjust to the situation. “It’s a little early, but it isn’t as if we didn’t expect it to happen. We might have to move our plans forward, though, I hoped we would get a bit of testing done before we go over to mass production.”

“Can’t we do both at the same time?” Lisandra asks. “If we move against the G.S., they might panic and we get our test after all. At the same time, we could give Hob a few ‘samples’ on the way. It isn’t like the weapon will be deployed overnight. It needs to be carried to other places, and we are talking about decades when it comes to the whole galaxy.”

Silith waves for a guard to get Hob back and we wait in brooding silence. Our carefully thought out plan suddenly gained an improvised element, but Martin told me many times that in reality, no plan survives contact with the enemy.

Hob returns a few minutes later, looking perplexed. “Was there something unsatisfying about our agreement? I hate to say it, but a sealed deal is a sealed deal. There is no going back on a contract.”

“It’s about something else.” Silith gestures at a large crate which is carried by two guards into the room. The two females put it down in front of Hob and open the box for him to inspect the contents.

The blue alien leans down and retrieves a little, white pearl. “I am afraid that it’s not profitable to transport trinkets over interstellar distances.”

“It’s not a trinket,” I explain. “These pearls are our latest nano-tech, and allow anyone to join our cause.”

“Cause?” Hob looks intrigued.

I go on, giving him a short, but vague, explanation regarding the V.C., just as we intend to do for everyone else. It takes a while, but after a few questions, Hob seems to accept that the human race is existing in a virtual reality and that there are factions among us.

The discussion finally arrives at the pearls, which allow anyone to join the V.C. on an independent server. It’s enough to simply crush the pearl on a world with a biosphere, while a local leader explicitly states the wish to join us at the same time.

Hob seems perplexed at that. “But what about those who don’t wish to join you?”

Martin shrugs. “This is a war, and in a war, there are casualties. If they really don’t want to live in a virtual world, even if it is an exact duplicate of the real one, then they can always delete their personalities and treat it as if they were the victims of a weapon of mass destruction. You have to understand that we could deploy weapons like this one on any settled world without asking its inhabitants.”

Hob studies the crate with suspicion, then gingerly puts the pearl back. “Each pearl is enough for one world?”

“Yes, and there are exactly a thousand pearls,” I elaborate. “We would like you to hand them out to civilisations which are about to be destroyed by the G.S.”

The alien studies the crate for a long time, and then a rasping sound escapes his lips, rising and falling uncontrollably while he is holding his belly. After a few seconds, I realize that he is laughing.

“A humane weapon of mass destruction. Normally, I don’t deal with devices like this. It’s one thing to give a civilisation the knowledge to wipe itself out, and another to give them the weapon itself. If they use the knowledge to destroy themselves, then it isn’t my fault, as any knowledge can be used in different ways.”

It takes some time until Hob regains control of himself. “Okay. You amused me greatly, and it has been some time since that happened. Actually, I can’t really remember the last time I had to laugh. It must’ve been back in the days when I was restricted to a single planet. Fine. I will take this gift and hand it out to civilisations which might prefer this option to destruction.”