My heart practically skipped a beat as I saw what was at first a far-fetched idea quickly evolve into a full-blown plan. Or, at least, the first inklings of a plan.
Whether or not it would be successful was another matter entirely. Though that didn’t take away from the excitement of actually seeing another hare-brained scheme coming together. The fact that there was now a way forward whereas before none existed, was cause enough for celebration.
We could potentially find a way to rectify this whole situation. A way to possibly fix this mess and regain the ability to make contact with the IAS. A way to prevent things back on Earth from spiraling out of control, to prevent everyone back at home from jumping to conclusions before it was too late.
Because the consequences for going beyond the five week cutoff point was something nobody wanted to deal with. The Director herself had made sure to drill that into me from the first week of my training.
Practical concerns and the very real potential over a complete overhaul of standing policy for a recovery and response mission over a missing agent aside, the ramifications of a complete loss of contact went far beyond the UN’s response plans.
It also would have far reaching implications on the future of the IAS itself.
The Director had, over the course of an entire year of slow gradual talks, made it clear what she was putting on the line with Pilot II. Indeed, after the failures of Pilot I, there was an immense level of scrutiny coming in from all parties landing squarely on the IAS and the director’s head. From assembly committees, to military reviews, to even a top-to-bottom internal audit performed by an out-of-branch internal review board, the IAS was this close to being reshuffled and overhauled.
I could still vividly remember the colorful language the Director had used to describe the fallout that would come from a failed mission. Or at least, a failure to report in before the cut-off point.
----------------------------------------
“Imagine you’re on your last paycheck and you’ve just put everything on Richard Madison in the first quarter of the Armstrong-Irving Hump during the 302nd Luna Grand Prix. Imagine doing this, whilst knowing full well what happened to Steven Wu and Harry Roy on the 300th and 301st respectively.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Not a space racing fan?”
“Not particularly, ma’am.”
“Shame. I’ll avoid long winded metaphors and get straight to the point then. You remember our talks with Field Captain McCay at the Waterfront, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And you know the current pressures being put on the IAS following the incident with Pilot I and what became of your predecessor?”
“As far as has been disclosed to me, ma’am.”
“Well, I will be frank with you Emma. I believe you’ve earned this trust given what you’re putting on the line. Let’s just say that the past two decades have been spent with the explicit purpose of rectifying our shortsightedness on Pilot I. Meaning the IAS as we currently know it, including all of my plans following this mission, all ties back to the success of Pilot II. This includes our potential partnership with the LREF.”
…
“No pressures, right ma’am?”
“Well, I was trying to ease into this using the space racing metaphor.”
“Speaking of, maybe we should finish that thought. Whatever happened to Richard Madison during the Luna Grand Prix, ma’am?”
“He was losing, until the very last second where he managed a gravity sling maneuver at the risk of his own life. He made it, just barely, with the ship holding together by its literal outer plating. He beat the first hump by 5 seconds.”
“Well, I hope Pilot II won’t come to that ma’am. As long as the lab techs have done their work, I’m confident I can make sure I don’t pull a Richard Madison.”
“I’m counting on you, and will hold you to that promise, Cadet Booker.”
----------------------------------------
Everything was now riding on Pilot II actually succeeding. Everything all the way from jobs to the insanely intricate web of plans the Director had for the IAS moving forward. Every last bit of it relied on getting a signal out.
But it was easy to get lost in my own sauce when it came to the implications of being unable to get a message back out to Earth. This wasn’t just about the issues back at home now. Because if my time in the Nexus so far has taught me anything, it’s that the consequences of me not getting in touch wasn’t just limited to the future of a single agency, or heck, even the entire United Nations Science Advisory. No. There was far more on the line now if I wasn’t able to get in contact with home.
The intel I’d gathered, the things I’d learned, had just elevated the stakes from just departmental drama to national security. Heck, it might even go beyond national security, even dipping its toes into a complete and utter existential crisis.
I needed to get this data out.
And thankfully, despite the obvious setbacks, we at least had a clear path forward.
Starting with the library.
“A winged ally.” Thalmin repeated with an indignant huff. “You’re talking about that trickster spirit wearing the skin of a benign beast, aren’t you? That self-described librarian. You’re suggesting we return to that accursed place, to trade ancestors’ knows what for an answer to this new challenge facing our comrade?” The lupinor prince gestured harshly in my general direction, extending the full length of his arm out for added effect.
“Correct, Thalmin. The library is the only neutral party removed from our rapidly complicating circumstances. Moreover, it is the only party that I am more than certain possesses at least something akin to the knowledge we seek.” Thacea concluded simply, standing her ground despite the lupinor prince’s best efforts at dissuading her.
“This over-reliance on the library will see us faster become slaves to its enigmatic machinations, than us gaining any true, meaningful enlightenment.” Thalmin growled.
“The library is a tool, Thalmin. Like any tool, reliance or lack thereof is a tradeoff that is highly dependent on the contexts and circumstances surrounding its user.” Thacea promptly snapped back, holding her ground without even so much as flinching to the lupinor’s arguments. “In most cases, I may be inclined to see eye to eye with you on this matter. However, the situation we find ourselves in places the library as a uniquely beneficial choice in our rapidly depleting arsenal of potential options.” The avinor paused, if only to allow Thalmin a chance to provide a counter to that argument. The lupinor, however, simply shrugged, before nodding for Thacea to continue. “We find ourselves once again faced with a dilemma with no apparent solution. A quest with which there exists no true contemporaries to seek guidance or wisdom from. We are, by every practical measure, alone in this novel and unprecedented venture; to construct for ourselves a line of communication outside of the Status Communicatia.” Thacea let out an exhausted breath, part of it emerging as a harmonic trill which resonated sharply throughout the empty room.
“But princess, we technically do have contemporaries.” Thalmin shot back, raising both of his hands up in a sort of a gotcha! gesture. “The counter to the Status Communicatia, during the rebellion? The legendary system that spat in the face of the Nexus? The innovative means by which the rebelling adjacent realms managed to circumvent the Nexus’ communications monopoly-”
“Yes, the legendary system with which we do not even possess a name for.” Thacea interjected with a sharp, decisive, chirp. “A legendary success that suffered the same fate as every other success claimed by the rebellion: death by omission. It, like the names and faces of those who fell in the name of rebellion, were all but stricken from history without necessitating the stroke of a quill.”
“Historical revisionism.” I stated flatly, my eyes once more meeting the avinor’s.
“Revisionism implies that another form of history was written or codified prior to the present narrative, Emma. The Nexus simply did not allow such a thing to happen. Death by omission, is thus a fate far worse than any revision of history, for there was no one present after the war to challenge the established narrative, and thus, no one and nothing to revise.” Thacea responded promptly, before she quickly turned her sights back to Thalmin, finishing her argument. “Suffice it to say, this is why I do not consider this legendary alternative system to the Status Communicatia to be a contemporary to our aims. For all that remains of it are wisps and echoes; intangible and irrelevant to our current aims of recreating Earthrealm’s novel communications apparatus. Simply put: all that exists of it is the concept of its existence. It simply isn’t useful in our current aims.”
“Which is why my vote is for the library. There’s really no other option.” I managed out with a tired sigh, deciding to throw my two cents in before the conversation took a deeper dive into some highly specific back and forth. “I’m really sorry, Thalmin. I get your personal reservations on the library, I really do. But we’re kind of out of options here. And I really need to get this whole project started ASAP. There’s no telling what we’ll need, how long it might take to procure them, or even how we’re going to procure them. It’s better if we start now, rather than later.”
The lupinor gave out a disgruntled growl at this, before finally acquiescing with a single shrug. “Fine, but let it be known that I will keep my interactions with that den of deceit and hypocrisy to a minimum.” Thalmin paused, before turning his sights suddenly to the front door, then towards the small stack of papers that was stacked atop one of the tables in front of his bedroom’s entrance. “Though we may have to keep our visit to the library brief.”
“Why’s that?”
“I know a lot’s happened over the past few days Emma, but that doesn’t change the Academy’s propensity in keeping to a schedule. We’re still due for the House Choosing Ceremony tomorrow, and the window of grace for the school supply run into town starts from daybreak to nightfall today.” Thalmin made a point to look out the window, with the dark slowly, but surely, giving way to the first rays of dawn. “Which by the looks of it, is fast approaching.”
“But, the explosion… don’t you think the Academy’s going to change up the schedule because of it?”
“I’m the last person to ask when it comes to what I think the Academy will do, Emma.” Thalmin retorted with a sly, gravelly chuckle. “Because whilst my biases say that we’re due for a truly unprecedented round of developments today, the logical and reasonable side of me says that the Academy will somehow find a way to spin this around to ensure it’s business as usual. I mean, we’ve already seen evidence of that from the encounter in the gardens did we not? The groundskeeper did quite a good job at simply sweeping everything under the rug there. Or, more accurately, sweeping the scars of battle beneath the turf and foliage.”
“I am inclined to agree with Thalmin’s analysis, Emma. To that end, I have nothing to add.” The princess spoke quickly, and surprisingly capped it all off with a commitment to brevity. “I think it’s best we call this a night.”
“Good call, princess. Let’s stop to lick our wounds before dawn properly comes.”
“That is a sentiment I wish to reinforce on you, Emma.” Thacea shifted her attention squarely on me, looking me up and down with equal parts worry and equal parts sternness. “We will resume this in the morning.”
With those final few, assertive words, we all got up. Thalmin once more rushed to my side as he, like the bro he was, once more positioned himself in such a way that allowed me to straddle him for some support.
All was silent just before we reached my dorm however. At which point, the lupinor prince directed what seemed like a rather harmless question my way. “So, considering this new quest’s cutoff point is slated for 5 weeks away-”
“Well, 4 weeks and a handful of days, given how the timer started the moment the crate came through the portal.” I interrupted with a quick correction.
“Right, well, considering we have about a month. And considering the fact that we are no longer facing the imminent threat of an explosion or anything of the sort, this whole thing is bound to be a walk in the park right? I mean, the consequences of not being able to meet that deadline surely can’t be any more severe than the explosion, correct?”
I couldn’t bring myself to respond to that line of thought. Not because I didn’t want to burst Thalmin’s bubble, but because I myself was running through the list of possibilities as to what going over that arbitrary line meant.
“Right?” He reiterated, this time with a nervous bout of laughter that shuttered just as abruptly as we arrived.
I tried racking my head around for a proper response, which was enough time to clearly elicit some concerns from Thacea as she stopped just short of the door to face me. “Emma… what exactly are the consequences of you being unable to meet that deadline?”
“Well… let’s just say it’s a lot more complicated than the bomb.”
Thacea narrowed her eyes, before urging me with a single head nod to continue.
“First, there’s the soft ramifications, or consequences you could say. A lot of people and organizations are banking on the success of my mission. That success is determined first by whether or not I’m able to send a data package back home. If I’m unable to then… well… let’s just say there’s going to be a lot of political reshuffling as a result.”
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Thalmin’s expressions shifted from one of growing concern, to a mild relief. “Political reshuffling huh? I suppose that’s certainly an improvement from the prior stakes of life and limb. So long as no blood is at stake, and no lives are lost, then the situation is a categorical improvement from our prior predicament.”
“Well, those are the soft consequences. The hard consequences… well… depending on who gets put in charge after the reshuffle, or how the different agencies, departments, and branches decide to proceed, we might be looking at an asset retrieval mission being put on the table.”
“And what would that entail?”
“It entails the temporary suspension of the limited interventionist policies set forth by the current administration at the institute I’m assigned to, and its potential replacement by a more aggressive tit-for-tat interventionist policy spearheaded by the institute’s security leaders; i.e. my actual chain of command. There’s a whole complicated web of interdepartmental politicking going on between the civil service departments and agencies responsible for the civilian side of this endeavor, and the military which I’m on loan from. This is not even getting into the assembly and their committee’s grubby little hands. But regardless of the political outcome, I’m more than certain that the active stance will change, at least enough to warrant an asset retrieval mission.”
“This all sounds… needlessly complicated.” Thalmin suddenly spoke up. “Now, I understand that your realm’s governance was a matter of great contention for Professor Mal’tory given what you showed via your memory shard, but I wouldn’t have imagined it to involve this degree of what seems to be complexity and mobility. Because it genuinely sounds more like a house of cards where everyone is a player within their own small pockets of responsibility.”
It was at that point that I realized I hadn’t yet gone down the rabbit hole as to exactly what the UN was, how it functioned, or how it was so fundamentally different from the medieval-eseque politics of the Nexus and the adjacent realms. But before I could open my mouth to properly address that can of worms, Thacea was quick to nudge me back in the right direction, preventing a whole new tangent from forming.
“And just how would this asset retrieval mission work, Emma?”
I took a deep breath, before letting it all out. Wasting no time in relaying an answer. “The idea is to open up a portal to the exact coordinates and specifications to the one that got me here. Then… the details are fuzzy, there’s like a hundred different major contingencies to consider. But suffice it to say, it doesn’t bode well for any hope of diplomacy, let’s just put it at that.”
Thacea’s expressions darkened at the end of that answer, her gaze averting for just a second, before reconnecting back to my own. “And how exactly do your people intend on opening the portal, Emma?”
“The same way we did the first time around?”
“Your people intend on simply opening a portal to the Nexus, without their consent?”
“I mean, yes-”
“Emma… I was there the moment you arrived. I saw what the procedures actually were. Your people were barely able to break through your planar fabric and into this one. It was through the Academy’s aid that you were able to finally establish a stable portal.”
“I mean, I’m sure if they pump more power-”
“It’s not just about sheer power or mana, Emma. It’s about the spells and techniques required to sustain a stable portal.” My heart started to sink, as part of me realized where Thacea was going with this. “There are a near infinite number of ways that opening up a portal could go wrong without the proper technique. And considering that there will be no aid this time around, the odds of a cataclysmic failure is all but guaranteed. But, even if you had the proper technique, there’s still one crucial aspect that your people are overlooking.” Thacea paused, letting out a frustrated coo. “Your realm is mana-less, correct?”
“Correct.”
“We’ve discussed the principles of mana before. Mana enters and invades spaces with less mana. That’s why you have that armor.” She took a moment to poke at my armor. “And that’s why we have our mana-fields.” She then pointed at herself. “What do you think happens when you open up an unrestricted portal from a place known for being the richest pool of mana in existence, connecting it to a completely mana-less space?”
“Ah, yeah, that’s not a problem Thacea.” I responded with a cocky grin. “The portal chamber is built to withstand the mana seeping through. We measured it all the way back from the first candidate’s portal. Our facility is rated for that sort of thing.”
Thacea’s expressions however, showed that she wasn’t convinced. Moreover, there was a clear sense of worry that was visible through those expressive eyes. “Let me be clear when I ask this, Emma. Your structures, your facilities, they were built to withstand the amount of mana that came through during the opening of your, and your predecessor’s portals, correct?”
“Correct.”
“And those were the only two major portals ever opened by your people?”
“Well, yes. The rest were either microscopic, enough to be a proof of concept but really nothing more, or barely large enough for very limited communication with the Nexus where they sent us those shards of impart and stuff.”
“Well then your people are woefully misinformed as to the true threats that await them if they do successfully open a portal of similar size, if only for a scant few seconds.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I was there on the day you arrived. I saw, no, I even felt as the mana within the room was siphoned into your realm due to how mana-deficient it was. At first I didn't fully understand what I was seeing or feeling, but now I do. Emma, the only reason why all of the professors were present, and why the red-robed professor brought out an entire cart full of mana vials was because they had to do everything in their power to artificially lessen the rate of mana-siphoning. Indeed, this was the same reason why they had warded the room a total of five times before you arrived.” Thacea took a deep breath, steadying herself, before continuing. “They were doing everything in their power to prevent a cataclysmic mana-drain incident. If it wasn’t for their preparations, then an insurmountable amount of mana would’ve leaked into your realm, and been siphoned out of the Nexus’.”
I once more felt my heart plummeting towards my gut. Though at this point, having just gotten off the emotional rollercoaster that was the bomb, it just made me feel hollow.
“That means… the readings that the IAS has are grossly inaccurate, and are far lower than what they should be.” I began with a hushed breath. “The facility’s shielding was built using mathematical models constructed with that erroneous data. That would mean all of our preparations would be woefully underprepared for the absolute inundation of mana radiation.”
“It depends on how long the portal is open for, Emma.” Thacea responded before my brain could come up with the grizzly scenarios befalling an unprepared IAS. “I cannot provide an accurate estimate one way or the other. This may simply be limited to the destruction of a single room-”
“Or an entire facility melting.” I quickly added.
“Correct, but again, this is highly dependent on a multitude of factors we simply cannot account for at this point in time.”
All three of us looked on at each other in complete silence as the ramifications of this new ‘questline’ was now out there in earnest.
“Right.” I finally broke the silence. “Well, let’s not focus on the what-ifs right now.” Before turning to Thacea. “Thank you for that insight, Thacea. You might’ve just saved more than a handful of lives with that vital piece of info.” I managed out with a confident smile.
“But we aren’t yet sure you can warn-”
“I’m sure we’ll find a way.” Thalmin interrupted, clearly sensing the vibe I was trying to give off. An admittedly, overly confident one, but one that I had hoped would be warranted by the end of these 4 weeks.
Despite the helmet obstructing any and all semblance of physical cues, I still shot a smile to Thalmin all the same.
But just as the scene was winding down, on the cusp of finally retiring for the night, fate decided it had just one more curveball to throw my way.
SLAM!
We all swung our heads toward the source of that sudden and abrupt noise.
I raised up my pistol almost instinctively, before just as quickly holstering it upon seeing exactly who it was at the front door.
The discount kobold had returned, and this time, he was huffing and puffing completely out of breath. Though unlike the first time he’d mysteriously returned in the dead of night, there were no signs of a scuffle having occurred this time around. No burnt clothes, no peculiar orange fur on his tunic, or any bite marks on his cloak.
We stared at each other for a few seconds, all four of us exchanging questioning glances, before the Vunerian decided to preemptively answer all of our collective questions.
But not without a bit of stage play theatrics first and foremost. “Oh! Oh tapestries above! You’re back!” Ilunor began gesticulating wildly towards my general direction, before turning his gaze to face the other two.
“You may be wondering why it is I am returning to the dorms at this unsightly hour.” He took the words right out of our mouths, but not the disgruntled growls currently brewing within Thalmin’s throat. “Well, you see, like the two of you, I have been hard at work trying my best to determine the whereabouts of our newrealmer friend. In any case, it is quite fortunate you have found her.” The little thing continued, grasping both of his little paws together in a fit of overacting. “With that being said, it is getting quite late. I won’t tire our newrealmer with any acts of celebration, it is clear you two have already given her a well-deserved hero’s welcome. I will thus take my leave-”
“Hold on just a second.” Thalmin growled back. “Just how are you circumventing the curfews, huh? Where exactly were-”
SLAM!
Thalmin barely had any time to react as the little thing skittered from the entryway all the way to his apartment door in a matter of seconds.
“I’ll wring the truth out of him if I need to…” Thalmin muttered out through a frustrated growl, before finally making his leave, entering the door and slamming it shut hard behind him.
This left just me and Thacea, as we both turned to face each other with knowing glances, before entering our own room without so much as a word exchanged.
----------------------------------------
Dragon’s Heart Tower, Level 23, Residence 30. Emma and Thacea’s Bedroom. Local Time: 0450 Hours.
Emma Booker
“Emma, are you sure you don’t require any assistance?” Thacea inquired with a soft coo, hovering near me throughout my strained walk cycle as I made my way slowly towards the tent.
“I’m fine Thacea. Really.” I managed out with a plucky, confident tone of voice, as I began going through the tetris-like pile of crates for the one that I sorely needed at this point.
[ACCESS CRATE NO. 4 Y/N?]
[Y]
[AFFIRMATIVE. PLEASE CONNECT CRATE NO. 4 TO THE MREDD CARGO-AIRLOCK]
This proved to be a really bad idea.
With the lower half of my armor down for the count, it was taking literally everything in me to just push the thing across the floor.
I was making about an inch of progress for every umf I gave it.
“For ancestor’s sakes, Emma…” Thacea muttered out under a hushed frustrated sigh as she raised a single hand, targeting the crate I was desperately pushing with all my might.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 195% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
The crate suddenly lifted off the ground, hovering in place as I nearly fell over from the sudden shift in weight. “Hey! I said I was-”
“I will not apologize for that stunt.” Thacea interrupted firmly. “You’re hurt, and you know it. And yet you still attempt to project strength when you know you need help. Now, I’m offering my help and there’s no buts about it.” The avinor’s tone of voice shifted firmly towards that more regal, more authoritative one, as I couldn’t help but to let out a slight chuckle, followed up with a brief smile.
“Yes, your grace.” I responded under a cheeky breath.
That seemed to strike something within the avinor as her pupils dilated almost immediately in response, and her free hand moved to cover the bottom half of her face, most notably her cheeks. “I… I assumed you didn’t wish to use titles and that… it’s, I wasn’t…” The princess steadied herself, before just as quickly regaining her composure. “So, tell me, where would you like this box of yours, Emma?”
“Just over here.” I hobbled my way over near the airlock door. Pointing towards a compartment just underneath the food-rated MREDD, a partition that was clearly designed with the expressed intent of taking in these crates.
[CRATE DETECTED NEAR MREDD CARGO-AIRLOCK. PROCEED WITH CARGO INTAKE PROCEDURES? Y/N]
[Y]
With barely any effort, the crate glided towards the compartment, before being aggressively latched by the tent, as a series of hisses filled the otherwise silent room.
“Your tent… it unnerves me, Emma.” Thacea uttered out warily. “The sounds it makes are otherworldly.”
“Heh, well, I do apologize for the inconveniences I bring to the table by being your roommate.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean any offense by that, Emma. I simply am trying to imply that, well… you truly are just… entirely novel.” The princess managed out through a fidgety series of chirps.
“I’ll take that as a compliment then. Definitely beats boring, am I right?”
A small silence descended over the both of us again, as the sudden whirring from the tent managed to break the tension, as it prompted Thacea to take the usual appropriate action.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 255% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
“So… I guess this is good night then?” I chuckled nervously.
“Oh, erm, yes. I do believe it is. Apologies, it’s just-”
“Been a long day huh?”
“Yes, truly.”
“And… Ilunor, what he said, is it true that you and Thalmin spent the entirety of the day looking for me?”
“Yes.”
I once more bridged the gap between us, placing a hand on the princess’ shoulder. “Thank you, Thacea. For everything. I just… I’m sorry for being such a bother it’s-”
“You’re no bother Emma. In fact, you’ve been the opposite of that. We’re part of the same peer group after all. And peers look out for one another. That’s how we’re going to survive the Academy, that’s how we’re going to survive the Nexus.” Thacea expressed with a confident glint in her eyes.
“Right. We’re in this thing together.” I nodded affirmatively.
“Together, Emma.”
With those final few words, I finally headed back to the tent, preparing myself for the decon, and the repairs to follow.