Monsalle Station - 07:06 Thursday, March 7, CE 0
It was easy to grow accustomed to MOTHER’s automated vehicle system. They were similar to the auto-pilot systems Hawthorne had grown familiar with back on Earth, but because they didn’t have to deal with different manufacturers and dissimilar standards they were far more efficient. In his day, all vehicles required manual overrides, the ability for a human driver to correct for errors in the course of travel. There were many causes for these errors, which only compounded their difficulties.
The earliest models of these systems had difficulty with things a normal human wouldn’t consider a problem. Things like the image of a child printed on the back of an ice cream truck could cause a car to identify the image as an actual child and react accordingly. Bicycles or motorcycles stored in the backs of trucks or towed on trailers could throw systems into dangerous action. Most of these simple issues had been solved by the time Hawthorne was born, but it was unfortunately not uncommon for a software bug pushed in an update to cause up to a dozen fatalities from these sorts of accidents every year.
One of the biggest issues with the old automated vehicles of Earth was still the drivers, however. It was uncommon for a driver to need to intervene any more often than once every 20 miles of travel. The primary issue with that was that humans would get bored. When they needed to react to save their own lives, it was not uncommon for a human to have allowed their attention to drift, or the view of lines in the road to cause them to fall asleep. The accidents caused by this tended to not be severe, but the press loved to report on them at every possible instance.
And that was just the cars. Pedestrians had at one point grown so accustomed to the fact that cars would stop for them that they began to totally ignore traffic signals and cross at will. Cars would communicate with each other and slow or stop traffic up to a mile back to ensure a lack of accidents and the protection of pedestrians. It happened so frequently in more urban areas that it bogged down traffic to an intolerable degree. As a result, the laws changed.
The cars became the police. With every vehicle already being equipped with cameras, it was a simple matter to require them to report these jaywalking crimes. Footage was transmitted to law enforcement, facial recognition was used to identify people, and that was supposed to be that. Fines and jail time flooded out in sudden waves.
That would have been the end of that, but then people started disguising themselves. People protesting automated policing, because anything the police did had to be protested, would mask up or hide their faces as they crossed streets with the intent to bog down traffic. Further protests of the vehicle manufacturers came from the vehicle owners to punish the jaywalkers, to injure them or ignore them in the programming. Legislation was introduced for debate over the legality of allowing automated cars to strike people intentionally trying to interrupt traffic. It was a mess.
The issues were solved in a myriad of ways based on the countries the vehicles existed in. The end result was a massive increase in cost for said vehicles as they had to adjust to the legislation of every country they passed through dynamically. Cheaper cars could be designed to only operate in one country, making them illegal in others. In some countries blood flowed and the martyrs were held up as examples against the automation of vehicles at all.
These were still issues when the Ark had left, and were only put to rest in the next generation as the protesters moved on to new affairs.
As such, Hawthorne was very much enjoying MOTHER’s solution to the problems. One manufacturer, one system, one network. Every car knew where every other car was, and could compensate for them miles away. All cars were on the same schedules, aware of every request for transportation and capable of adjusting accordingly. Cars showed up exactly when you needed them, they took you where you needed to go quickly and efficiently, and then they moved on to the next destination.
“I could make a very strong argument for Mother’s infrastructure being the perfect example of standardized systems. It almost seems foolish to have more than one designer responsible for a network of vehicles like this.” Hawthorne sighed as he sat with Evelyn, totally aware of what her rebuttal would be. “Of course, that would totally stifle innovation and competition. Hopefully these standards can be maintained.”
Evelyn laughed as he made her argument for her. “I’m more concerned about what happens when someone besides you decides to make their own artificial minds. Yours is proven, but we can’t know what problems might be introduced if someone else takes the initiative. Doctor Qiang makes me rather uneasy in that respect, especially since we only have one example of a human mind transferred into such a state.”
There were no controls in the car. Hawthorne and Evelyn were seated together in the ‘back’ of the reversible vehicle, with identical seats opposite them. It was boxy inside, with more sleek lines without that made the car look like a wheeled egg. Wireless power transfer from the street itself powered the vehicle, cutting down on its weight by minimizing a need for batteries. It could operate for roughly a half hour on what batteries it had if it had need.
He nodded at his wife, considering that. “It’s not something we can avoid, I’m afraid. The concept is visibly in action with you and Mother, so doubtlessly someone will try to replicate it. We just have to be careful that no one does so without proper understanding of the consequences of failure. There will also be issues if people decide to make their own spacecraft without utilizing Mother’s assistance with guidance as well. It would be a massive disaster if two spacecraft collided because they weren’t properly in communication with each other.”
“Oh, that’s interesting though. Mother could theoretically create a network of space vehicles just like these cars to transport people between different stations. It might be harder to do the same on Eden without infrastructure to help get people back off the planet though.” She shifted against his side, looking out of a window to watch the landscape fly by. They were going quite fast.
A tone sounded and an overhead display warned that the vehicle would begin slowing soon, on approach to the city.
Hawthorne double checked the belts crossed over his chest then glanced over to watch Evelyn do the same. “Honestly, anyone seeking to colonize Eden is almost certainly going to be trapped there for a long time while means to produce propellant are constructed. It wouldn’t be too difficult to drop off fuel or vehicles from orbit, but it would be massively cost inefficient compared to producing them on planet. Except for emergencies, going to Eden will be a one-way trip for the foreseeable future.”
Evelyn frowned at that, tensing up as the vehicle started decelerating, her avatar separating from her android briefly as she lost track of herself. “Well, the universe owes you a sunrise from Eden, so we’ll probably have to get you down there at some point.”
He scoffed softly at that, shaking his head and cringing a little as the deceleration put pressure on his body. “The universe doesn’t owe me anything. I’m happy it allowed us to get here in the first place. I can live without seeing another natural sunrise. I have way more things I’m interested in right now. Hopefully Heather can help us with those.”
She grinned over at him at that. “What do you think we’ll make first? Dogs? Cats?”
Hawthorne shrugged, then smiled. “We’ll probably take the path of least resistance. We have eggs to work with, so we’ll probably start with things like chickens and other birds. We’ll have to be careful not to resurrect anything we can’t feed though. Making too many animals too quickly might result in our colonies farming efforts being unable to keep up.”
“Good point! Careful, measured steps are in order now that all the most dangerous stuff is dealt with.” She nodded her head, looking up as another tone and visual indicated they were almost at their destination. “Make sure to check your pockets, Anthony Saul said the acceleration caused him to lose his phone for half a day a few days ago.”
He nodded, making sure he had his phone. He didn’t have much else to bring with him really. “When did you talk to Anthony?”
She snorted in response. “I didn’t. It’s just one of many Public Service Announcement he posted on the network. He’s been making a name for himself with making them since we arrived. I think he feels intimidated by all the geniuses and experts on the crew and he feels like he needs to contribute somehow.”
The two started unbuckling themselves as the car coasted into a parking spot, a door sidewalk-side sliding open to let them out. The sidewalk had a number of people walking around, most of them in lab coats, not unlike the Crenshaws. “We’ll see him today, so maybe I can convince him he’s got plenty to offer.”
She grinned as she climbed out after him. “Like bacon?”
He laughed and helped her out. “Especially bacon.”
07:21 Thursday, March 7, CE 0
Hawthorne and Evelyn walked into an interrogation. Half a dozen scientists and doctors, Heather O’Malley included, were all standing around Anthony Saul. He was seated at a small desk, wearing an oversized white lab coat that looked like it was intended for someone else. Considering the ‘Saul’ name tag, it was potentially his father Dr. Miguel Saul’s and had been packed along on short notice. Questions were flying at him almost too fast for the young man to answer.
“How did your father expect us to make use of animal embryos without anything to gestate them inside?” A younger male doctor asked yet another question, dark-skinned and dark-haired.
Anthony groaned and responded. “Like I said the first time, he trusted that the assembled geniuses on the Ark would figure something out. At least it’s something to work from. The eggs should be easy enough at least, right?”
“We have no experience using Doctor O’Malley’s technology to thaw out something like a fertilized egg. Did Miguel have any insights for things to watch out for or avoid?” A taller, pale, blonde woman addressed him this time, her voice exasperated.
“Oh come on, don’t you think that means you did things backwards? This is the problem with employing a mad scientist. She jumped straight to human experimentation and didn’t work her way up from animals, or eggs. You’re lucky anything got here and survived more than a day.” Anthony was almost laughing at that, if not for his own frustrated demeanor.
Heather wasn’t about to take that lying down. “Hey, fuck you, without mad scientists, we wouldn’t be here at all, we’d all be at the bottom of some crater back on Earth or shot in an alleyway. I had a timeline to keep, I kept it.”
Anthony snorted back at her. “Yeah, a timeline that didn’t include something like animals. You’d have only had vegetables to eat for the rest of eternity if my father and I hadn’t smuggled his project aboard. You should be bowing and scraping at my feet for taking the risk and giving you the opportunity. I could have been caught in customs and denied travel at the spaceport.”
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“Well this seems constructive.” Heads turned as Hawthorne spoke up, walking up with his arm entwined in Evelyn’s. He glanced down to her, seeing what she had to say.
“Take stock of what we have, and work with that. Set goals, figure out the steps to those goals, and get to work.” She nodded, then waved at Heather.
“Oh thank god.” The short, briefly-angry Doctor O’Malley waved back at Evelyn, approaching the Crenshaws. “I was just trying to make introductions between everyone when they started slinging questions and accusations at Mister Saul. I admit I got caught up in it.” She turned back to Anthony and smiled. “My apologies Mister Saul, that was unprofessional of me.”
Anthony lifted his hands in a conciliatory fashion, shaking his head. “It’s fine. I’m just glad I wasn’t arrested as soon as we arrived. I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but dad talked a lot about his work before I left him behind. I’m not surprised that the same people who shot down his project for fear of time constraints would still bear a grudge for him defying them. I think we have a great opportunity to finish his work now that we have all the time in the world.”
Hawthorne grinned at that. “Well said, young man. Let’s get some marker boards, see the list of things you have in stock, and start brainstorming. I’ve already got a few decades of progress in thinking about this under my belt, but let’s take a fresh look at it with fresh minds and see what we come up with. I’ll present the ideas and schematics we’ve been working on afterwards.”
Evelyn smiled brightly as she started looking around for tools and equipment. “We’ll need a week or two to roll those out, so take your time brainstorming. We had a lot of motivation to put in some preliminary work on the way here.”
Heather nodded at that, herding together the other lab coats to get them to help as well. “They actually put a lot of ideas together already. We’re practically their support team on this in comparison, but anyone who comes up with better ideas will get to take more credit for resurrecting non-human animals from the dead. We’re making history people, so don’t hold back.”
Anthony sat there quietly for a moment before pushing himself up to start helping. He wondered what his father would have thought to see people taking his project seriously. It only took 100,000 years.
Earth, After Cataclysm 99680
Commander Vasille Tzen’s interview with Elena Marie Price-Tetch had been significantly less concerning for Vasille than had the interview with Leonard. It was extremely easy, in comparison to her husband, to know where she had been and when at any given time. Old Ones universally had at least some manner of artificial implants, and she was no different. Elena’s was a medical monitor and emergency transponder, but downloading data from that allowed Vasille to more or less track her biological state and location for the last decade.
The conversation was winding down, his severe expression as intimidating as ever, but she stubbornly maintained her composure. She’d been on the other end of a table from him many, many times before and his typical tactics were ineffective. “How well do you know your husband, Elena?”
She watched his eyes unflinchingly as she thought of how to respond. “Fairly well, I’d say. He’s an expressive man, unafraid of showing his vulnerability. He’s stronger than he looks, like most bunkerites, but he’s gentle and careful with everyone. He’s come to me in tears on multiple occasions after his best efforts in surgery have been for naught. He’s deeply protective of his daughter, and myself, and on the rare occasion someone has disrespected me he has been quick to react.”
Vasille considered her answer, but allowed her to continue rather than interrupting. Strong, but gentle, with a temper when his family was impugned upon.
“I met him at the hospital first, I think. He was apprenticed to Doctor Emily Thade, my grandson’s wife, and I originally thought he was attracted to her. That seemed to have been a youthful crush, and he’d confirmed as much once we started dating. It was a remarkably relaxed courtship, with him keeping his libido under control while I got accustomed to the idea of being intimate with someone again after so long. He was very patient with me.” She smiled at that. “Lots of gifts, lots of quiet moments together during exhaustive shifts at the hospital.”
The People’s Guard Commander nodded quietly and filed away the information mentally. He was almost certain the two were actually very fond of each other. He wasn’t certain if Elena loved him, not exactly, but it was terribly uncommon for Old Ones to completely fall in love due to their need for medical intervention in their reproduction. Their hormones did not naturally pump powerfully enough for that kind of bonding outside of loving their children.
“Elena, how soon after you two began seeing each other did you begin hormone therapy?” Vasille watched her face with a stonelike expression, betraying nothing to her.
She hummed softly, responding rather quickly. “Eight months into our courtship. Three weeks before we were planning to be married. I had my personal doctor assist with making new eggs for me to help kick my reproductive system back into gear. We were married for three months before I got pregnant with Marie.”
Vasille internally frowned. She’d anticipated his line of questioning. “And it’s been around a year since then, Marie was born a few months ago and you’ve been dealing with that ever since?”
“Correct.” Elena nodded at that.
“And after what point in your pregnancy did you leave medicine to focus on nurturing your daughter-to-be?” He was trying to be careful, but she knew he was seeking information about Leonard. He considered being more direct with his questioning.
“Before my third month of pregnancy. The lack of sleep doctors get wasn’t good for me and Leonard encouraged me to rest while he worked in my stead. In similar fashion, I’m planning to get back to work to help him through his recovery.” She smiled and nodded. “He’s like no one I’ve ever been involved with romantically.”
He made a soft, impressed sound at that. “Good teamwork. Seems like a good relationship. He seems to intend to protect and support you for the rest of his life.” He quieted for a moment. “Elena, I believe your husband might be involved in your grandson’s disappearance, but I lack evidence. If you find anything, please let me know. I’ll be investigating in my own fashion, but please keep an eye out for anything abnormal. If he does turn out to be involved, please do not endanger yourself. Let me handle it.”
She frowned at that, tensing up. “I thought so. Still, the only thing that’s seemed even slightly strange was how he got injured, and I can personally say I witnessed how upset and shaky he was in the operating theatre. We’ve both seen people in such states hurt themselves by accident plenty of times. I half expected him to faint!”
“I’ll be looking at the footage. I’m sure you’re right. You know me, I’ll pursue any small clue when I have nothing else to work with. Don’t take offense.” He nodded at that. “I have other sources to tap who might be able to help me, but I’m sure you understand I need to keep those private.”
“Of course, Vasille. Do you need anything else? Will you stay for a meal?” She pushed away from the table slightly, preparing to stand.
He shook his head once. “No, thank you. I have to make some arrangements, twist some elbows. You know how it is.” He stood up and reached out to take the glass cube from the table. “Thank you for your time. I’ll find your grandson.”
She stood up as well, nodding back at him. “Walt’s a good man. He’s been through a lot because of me. I’d hate for something to happen to him before we could reconcile.”
Vasille cleared his throat, putting the cube into a pocket. “I believe he was coming here to do just that over fear of losing his Aunt. I’ll do my best to see to it that he still can.”
“Thank you Vasille.” She fearlessly took his right hand and held it firmly.
Mechanisms in the prosthetic arm immediately responded to weaken his strength to avoid harming Elena. Its owner was to die before it harmed an Old One. He weakly shook her hand. “Of course, Lady President.”
She groaned softly. “The LSC died millennia ago.”
He shrugged, withdrawing his hand. “As long as its citizens live, however few, it still lives in my heart. It just has a lot of competition for room since then.”
“Sentimental old man.” She smirked at him.
He smiled at that. “It helps, sentiment. It helps you remember how much you’re supposed to love your children long past when you’ve forgotten why.”
Earth, After Cataclysm 99680
That night, Vasille had made some more personal visits. He was now walking through the night’s streets alongside Kuzzgat, making their way out of town.
“Don’t you think people will notice when a bunch of Anthropoids make their ways out of town every month? It seems foolish that you think you could keep something secret like that.” Vasille was looking over at the equally tall man. His eyes trivialized the night.
Kuzzgat’s fluffy, feathered antennae similarly rendered the lack of sunlight almost pointless while human-like eyes turned to look back at the Old One. “You shame me, blessed one. I beg forgiveness, for I am not responsible for the meetings or their arrangements. I have not been involved since I have been in Lady Price’s service. The Heralds have a policy of not influencing the blessed once one of us are in their service.”
Vasille nodded, looking around as they approached a nondescript sub-surface home’s external door. “Well, you’ve evaded detection from all but myself, so that’s to your credit. You may have your forgiveness, Kuzzgat. How’s the wife? Child will be along any day now, right? Your first?”
Kuzzgat dipped his head dangerously deeply, nearly breaking his stride. “Tazzah is well. She expects me home shortly, so I will have to leave your company blessed one. Our child is expected to hatch tomorrow, and I fear I will be indisposed for the next week as a result. I do not wish to fail my wife on nurturing our first child.”
Vasille laughed and clapped a hand against Kuzzgat’s back rather hard, feeling no sign that he’d harmed the thin carapace of the powerful Gallusoid. “Congratulations! The first is the most difficult, but don’t worry too much. You’re not the first to have a child, and you’re not going to be the last if I have anything to say about it. Just watch your hands, your kind are quite ravenous when hatched.”
Kuzzgat dipped his head again, stopping before the door. “Yes sir, thank you sir. I wish you and your family well.” Kuzzgat lifted a large forelimb and pressed it against the wall next to the door. A very heavy stone plate pressed inwards before the door opened. It was abnormally thick and heavy, intended for non-humans to use. He helped Vasille push it open.
“You as well, friend. Take care of Elena for me.” Vasille struggled, even with Kuzzgat’s help, to open the door. The mechanisms in his right arm whined at the strain.
The door opened and allowed him inside. “It will be done, blessed one. Farewell.” Kuzzgat turned to leave, walking away.
Vasille looked down into the darkness, detecting many hot, heavy bodies. He started walking down the stairs, quite aware that concern was being directed his way. His footsteps were far too quiet as he came down the thick, wide stone steps. At least one hundred Anthropoids were gathered in the building. The cavernous room stretched out for a fair distance, and he got the impression there were other entrances in other directions.
“Greetings to you, the Heralds of Humanity. I bring news of the disappearance of Walter Thade, grandson of Elena Price and husband of the late Emily Thade. I would like your assistance in locating him.” A wave of emotions crossed the faces of the Anthropoids in the room. His thermals were a complicated mess of heated blurs.
All kinds were here, including one centrally placed Myconoid. Its bloated body was firmly placed in the ground with the faint glow of biologically created light showing its face. It was an amalgam of fungal bodies, no carapace to be found, its body immobile as a result of its biology. It lacked the fore-limbs of other Anthropoids, and only had the human-like hands and arms that acted as secondary limbs for the others. Those hands moved in signs, faintly lit by its own bioluminescence for its peers.
An Ironback approached Vasille and knelt before him, soon followed by the rest of the room bowing their heads in reverence. The Ironback seemed to struggle with the movement, its legs poorly designed for the act. “You honor us, blessed one. It has been some time since you have sought us out. We will assist you however we can. The other cells will be contacted.”
Vasilled moved to symbolically help the Ironback up. There was no way he could make a realistic effort to move the impossibly heavy creature, but it responded by standing while the others lifted their heads. “Thank you. May we have some light so that I can show you what I have so far?” He reached into a pocket for the interview cube.
The sound of metallic walls sliding down from the ceiling could be heard. The myconoid disappeared behind the four walls before the lights were turned on. Along all the walls were portraits of hundreds of people, not one of them an Anthropoid. Vasille was one of them. The Ironback spoke again. “The Old Ones must be preserved.”
The rest of the room recited in response as one. “Glory to Humanity.”