Chapter 022: Investigation

When the initial transhuman offensive was finally halted during the Siege of Vigilance and the concurrent Battle of the Crossroads, close to eighty percent of Human Space was under control of the Transhuman Alliance. This meant that billions of humans were trapped in the occupied areas, outnumbering their transhuman captors at least a hundred to one. In the eyes of the Alliance leadership they were a threat. A Damocles sword hung above their heads.

This led to the start of the Humanity Ascension Program, the largest genocide in Mankind’s history. Some worlds were offered the choice of joining the transhumans and abandoning their humanity or dying. Some planets were sterilized with extensive orbital bombardments, others had their population worked to death. Their inhabitants were counted amongst the lucky ones, as some of the Lines were much more creative.

HAP’s estimated death toll ranges from fifteen to twenty-two billion humans, Variants and transhumans brave enough to oppose the slaughter and the growing madness of their own leadership. What’s more, it was counterproductive. The mass genocide occupied a significant part of transhuman logistics and military forces, and the new transhumans created through it were notoriously disloyal, with entire divisions and warship squadrons deserting and joining the ranks of the Unforgiven fighting on the side of the Solar Commonwealth.

It also provoked a reaction. Approximately thirty-six percent of Mankind died during the HAP. In exchange, the Commonwealth’ reprisal against the Alliance homeworlds led to the death of ninety-nine point seven percent of their inhabitants. However their much lower population limited the death toll to less than five hundred million.

Encyclopedia Galactica

Book 7, page 98

***

Commander Drathari’s first attempt to learn the truth ended up in complete failure. To her surprise, Innocent knew nothing. He was honest enough to admit there are certain signs in his database indicating recent memory purge, however for reasons obvious he couldn’t be sure what disappeared.

It was suspicious, but not enough to discourage Lena. Memory alterations were pretty common among the Explorer’s Guild members, and they could happen due to many reasons. No indications of the memory purge being forceful. The only thing this proved was that there was a secret to be uncovered.

Once she confirmed Innocent’s lack of knowledge, she proceeded to another member of the short list of people with higher security clearance (or initiation) on Echo. Unfortunately, Lieutenant Commander Mendez refused to satiate her curiosity.

Lena, of course, wasn’t stupid enough to flatly ask her what’s the Captain’s secret. Nor did she show the astrographic officer the still frame of the mysterious ship which spooked the captain so much. All Commander Drathari did was subtly inquire about the Captain’s recent behaviour. Once Lieutenant Commander Mendez responded with a rather decisive NO, Lena retreated from combat.

This left her with only one option. Which she wanted to avoid right from the start. There was only one more ‘enlightened’ person aboard the Echo. However, getting information from that source was going to be painful and difficult.

Three days after the battle she found herself standing in front of the ship’s hospital. The personal realm of Lieutenant Commander Athalia, chief medical officer of Echo. She had never had a reason to meet him thus far. She saw him on a few occasions, but he never spoke to her, and never stayed around for long.

She didn’t have to enter the hospital to find out why. The large ‘NO TRANSHUMANS ALLOWED’ sign on the door was a clear indication. A slightly smaller text underneath told all transhumans in need of medical care to proceed to the dedicated infirmary, about thirty meters to the left of the main hospital entry.

Dedicated infirmaries made perfect sense. The large ‘NO TRANSHUMANS ALLOWED’ labels instead of ‘Transhumans in need of medical care please proceed to...’ were much less sensible.

She walked through the entrance, confident in her rank. The lobby looked exactly as she imagined a lobby of a small hospital. Fully automatic reception, several doorways leading to rooms tailored for different forms of medical services (from an operating room to a room labeled as ‘geriatric care’, for some reason), Lieutenant Athalia hanging from the ceiling, spacious corridors allowing easy transport of the wounded and…

Lena’s mind almost overlooked the most important part of the decor. Lieutenant Commander Athalia was hanging in the middle of the hospital, upside down, with his legs on a beam passing through the room right under the ceiling.

He looked like some rainbow coloured and gender-ambiguous parody of a bat. A bat wearing a parody of a nurse outfit. The last remains of decency were saved by the miniskirt actively defying gravity and covering all the things, Lena wasn’t interested in seeing.

“Welcome to my hospital.” Athalia spoke with almost mechanical tone. His eyes remained closed. “Do not mind me, I’m meditating about the nature of the multiverse. And on how I could get rich off it. Please proceed to the reception or, if your request is urgent, speak to me.”

“I came to speak to you. About the Captain.” There was no one else in the room, so she could as well ask the question here.

Lith Athalia opened his eyes and looked at Commander Drathari. His face was neutral, but in a cold way.

“I thought there was no ‘doesn’t include officers’ note under the ‘no transhuman allowed’ banner.” He answered. Once again, Commander Drathari was surprised with the scale of contempt everyone aboard Echo had towards rules. And, occasionally, simple manners.

“My rank is higher than yours.” She reminded him, trying not to escalate the growing argument too much. She was more than used to such people.

“And I’m an expert in killing people and masquerading their death as an accident.” Lena froze. “Even Immortals and Virtuals can be killed, if you are tricky enough.”

Even in the Guild, such an almost-direct threat against your superior was a new low.

“I’m willing to work with you.” Athalia continued. “If you were a Mechanist with their biological components failing rapidly and the transhuman infirmary was closed, I’d do my utmost to help you. If we were forced to stand close to each other due to our work, like during our meeting with Hao, I’d act normally. However, you are a Virtual, and you came to talk. You are currently violating my comfort zone merely by being in close proximity. That’s why I’d like to ask you to leave.” He closed his eyes and returned to his ‘meditation’.

Calm yourself, Lena. You saw similar behaviour lots of time. Be persistent, but do not escalate.

“I’m yet to hear your footsteps disappearing in the background.” Lieutenant Commander Athalia interrupted her thoughts. “Ten seconds and I’m going to show you the most devastating ‘accidental discharge’ of a pistol you ever heard about.”

“Have you ever seen Captain Keller terrified of something?” Lena said. Lith opened his eyes again and looked at her for a while in complete silence.

“Continue.” He took the bait.

“During our flight towards the Senla system we detected a Ghost in the Hyperspace.” Lena spoke. Confidently, but concisely. She managed to get his attention, now she had to keep it. Without making his apparent hatred towards transhumans get the better of him. “Keller spilled his juice and almost broke his favourite cup when he saw it. He has been acting weird ever since. During the engagement with the Truthseekers fleet he looked like he was about to crap his uniform. That’s…”

“... new.” He interrupted her. “And let me guess, he keeps being dodgy on the subject, claims everything is ok, and has both Innocent and Eva back him up?” She nodded. “Ah, yes. Stubborn oaf. Show me the Ghost.”

She tried to send him the file, but she quickly found herself unable to.

“Err, are your commplants malfunctioning? I can’t seem to…” She said, but he quickly interrupted her.

“I see no reason to allow any amount of technology to defile my body. Including the ‘basic implants’.” He replied. “Thus I have none. And I don’t have my handheld equivalent of commplants on me. They were called smartphones in Petty Officer Hall’s times, I believe.”

For a while, Commander Drathari completely forgot how utterly anti-transhuman that man was. The very idea of living as a part of society without a translation implant and a commplant was alien to her. She could somehow understand the lack of the former for people who lived in unitarian states with little interest in leaving them - but on a ship crewed by people from dozens of different countries? It was impossible. And the lack of commplants was alien in every circumstance.

“How can you live without them?” She voiced her shock.

“Normally.” He stated flatly. The fact she went off the main subject seemed to anger him slightly. “I’m good in learning new languages, and the lack of both the commplant and the loyalty slash secrecy enforcing implant is… liberating.” He chuckled.

“And before you accuse me of hypocrisy for installing implants in other people, let me tell you that I’m doing this only because Mankind is yet to create a biological equivalent of Guild’s three basic implants.” Athalia continued. “Sooner or later we will be able to do without them, and then I’m going to have a jolly great time getting circuits and metal out of the wrong side of the crewmembers’ skin. Now, back to the subject at hand. Do you have a holographic display in this disgustingly robotic body of yours?”

She did, in fact, have it installed. Just like a number of other potentially useful gadgets.

Athalia’s face clouded when he saw the frigate. The reaction was much weaker than the one on Captain Keller’s face, but it was still noticeable.

“That’s… well, not something I saw coming.” He commented. It was obvious to Lena he did recognize the ship. “Did Innocent look for it in the database of ships lost in the Hyperspace?”

“Yes, but he found nothing.” She replied. “And if he found something later on, we’ll probably never know. Because he has ‘holes in his memory’ indicating a recent memory purge.”

“Well, I've known him for a while.” Lena found it surprising there was no spite in his voice. Being against cybernetic implants and transhumanism but being ok with humanized alien robots was unusual. “He probably dug into the issue ten times deeper than we can. Found something he didn’t like about Keller. Went to confront him and then, after the Captain managed to persuade him that it’s not a threat to Innocent’s flock, he purged his memory. It never ceases to amaze me how one of the most distinguished members of the Church’s death squads can be so fiercely protective of his parishioners.”

“The… what?” Lena said, unsure of what she just heard.

“Oh, you know how it is.” Athalia shrugged, which looked comical for a person who was still hanging upside down. “A noble secretly sells his peasants to Discord while being too powerful for his sovereign to risk a civil war? Call the Inquisition! Head of the planetary clergy starts to openly introduce heresies or is acting in a way not befitting clergy at all, while still being popular enough for the official excommunication to trigger a violent rebellion? Call the Inquisition! A king is going crazy and is worsening the condition of his subjects, making the kingdom vulnerable to the encroachment of these horrible heathens, heretics and aliens? Call the Inquisition!” He chuckled. “They don’t call themselves Inquisition anymore, though. And yes, I know they officially don’t exist. Like lots of very active things.”

“And he is here for…” I hope he isn’t here to kill anyone. Especially as slightly more than half of the crew counts as ‘heathens, heretics and aliens’.

“Robots, apparently, need vacations from time to time too. At least those sapient ones.” Athalia replied. “And since he knows Keller, he joined us for a voyage or two. Now, back to the subject, since I want you to be gone as fast as possible.” The medic promptly reminded her of his opinion about transhumans.

Opinion’s mutual here.

“I’m not surprised he found nothing in the database.” Athalia continued. “Because this ship was never lost in the Hyperspace in the first place. This ghost ‘frigate’ our sensors picked up is Curiosity. Gabriel Newman’s magnum opus, the first Hyperspace-capable spaceship in human history.”

“Wh...what?” This was an unthinkable, unbelievable and impossible answer. “Wasn’t it destroyed on Luna’s orbit?”

“Yes, it was. Which is why I was surprised by seeing it.” Lith answered with a tired tone typically reserved for mothers trying to explain to their slightly-dumb children something very simple. “Newman returned from Alpha Centauri with the first two archeotechs in human history. The World Forge, allowing for rapid and almost costless terraforming. And the Gene Artificer, the source of all three projects for the improvement of Humanity. Plus, of course, the only remaining blueprints of the first generation Hyperspace Drive. Enough to coerce Mankind into creating the Solar Commonwealth when he threatened to self-destroy his ship with all those goodies inside. But after unloading them and leaving the ship, he still had it self-destruct.”

“Which was a great shock and a source of many conspiracy theories, if I remember correctly.” Athalia responded with a nod.

“People spent the next five hundred and fifty years trying to figure out what Newman was trying to hide.” Athalia added. “And they are still trying to find out. The quick disappearance of Newman’s crew members and death of Gabriel himself only made things more complicated. Personally, I’d have disappeared too. Too many governmental agencies and conspiracy theory nuts trying to ask you questions.” He sighed. Lena decided to not comment on the resurface of his already famous paranoia. “As far as I’m aware, the current Guild’s leadership believes Newman either had a brush with an Extradimensional, or was contacted by aurums.”

“Aurums? Aren’t they extinct?” It was the name of one of the few species which thrived in what was now known as Human Space before Mankind left Earth. They were believed to have died out around the time the Western Roman Empire fell, leaving hundreds of well-hidden outposts and underground cities filled with wonders of post-Wall of Faith science.

“Yeah, right, whatever you say. It depends on the definition of extinction, after all.” Athalia decided to be dodgy on the issue. “The file you possess might be proof that the Curiosity wasn’t destroyed. Instead, the explosion was merely a cover. The detonation of well-placed explosives could mask the thermal flare accompanying Hyperspace entries. Of course, Hyperspace entry in the inner system would have killed everyone aboard if someone was there. Non-physical entities, in the meantime...”

“So… we just uncovered a centuries-long enigma?” He was almost impossibly calm for such a revelation.

“No. I did. You merely provided me with data.” Lena decided to ramp up her negative feelings towards the medic even more. “And even then, we merely confirmed the Guild’s suspicions. Makes me really curious what exactly Innocent did find. He wouldn’t purge his memory over something as simple….” He spent a while thinking deeply. Once the silence got too long, Lena decided to risk interruption.

“But… why did he react with such terror at the sight of this ship?”

Lith didn’t seem to mind being woken up from his dreams. “Ever heard of spiritomancy?”

She nodded. It was a pretty common superstition among the ship crews. The belief that ghost ships sightings could be used to divine the future, or at least whether you were going to be lucky or not, seemed to persist for centuries with no sign of dying out.

“You think Captain Keller is into that?” It really collided with her picture of the Captain.

“Captain Keller is into many unexpected things.” Athalia replied. “Spiritomancy would be the least unexpected out of them. I once knew an admiral whose fleet often spotted one of their cruisers t they had lost to Hyperspace years earlier. Each time they saw it, they won their next battle. Each time they didn’t, they lost or tied.” Athalia shook his head. “I’m still a firm believer in both coincidences and science. However, for as long as there is no valid scientific theory explaining the nature of the Hyperspace, much less of the ghost ships, people are free to believe in whatever they want. Even when it’s stupid.”

“So… you mean that for some reason this particular and super mysterious ghost ship shows up each time something goes wrong in the Captain’s life? Which is why he reacts with panic?” She couldn’t believe it. A normal and average ship, perhaps. But Curiosity of all ships?

“Of course not, are you even listening to me?” Lith glared at her angrily. “That’s merely a hypothesis. A barren skeleton of one. I know a lot about the Captain, but not everything. I’m certain he does engage in spiritomancy when he spots a ghost ship. However, it’s more of a hobby to him as I never saw him making decisions based on the result. And, for obvious reasons, no spiritomancy guidebook can include Curiosity. The only explanation I can think of, is that the Captain had already spotted it at least once prior to something bad happening in his life. Of course, there is also the issue of this ghost being THE Curiosity.” Lith continued after a short pause. “However I happened to see ships and people being stalked by ghosts with completely no relation to them, so I guess we can write the Captain’s case as one of such situations.”

“And is there an option to confirm a similar event before some ‘bad event’ in the Captain’s life?” I can’t believe I’m falling for some spiritomancy bullshit just like that.

“The only event I can think of is the time when Captain lost his last ship. The ECS Halberd.” Athalia answered. “However, only ten people out of one hundred and twenty seven survived. Keller was the only person from the bridge crew that got out. And of the remaining nine, the only person who rejoined the Guild and is currently aboard Echo is Chief Petty Officer Tiaa Sistonen. Trying to squeeze the knowledge out of her might be impossible, which is why I’m going to leave that for you.” Lena’s brow raised at this unexpected statement.

“You… want to work with me?” She could scarcely believe it after his obvious display of anti-transhuman beliefs.

“Yes. Because I’m currently more curious as to what the Captain’s hiding than I’m disgusted with the idea of working with a Virtual.” He closed his eyes again. “Give me a call when you find out something interesting. In the meantime, leave this place.”

Well. It still went better than I expected.

***

Christopher left the bedroom corridor and entered the living room. It was almost empty. The ship had just entered the Hyperspace, and members of the Recovery Team were mostly either sleeping or in the work.

Of course, ‘almost empty’ didn’t mean empty. To his surprise he immediately spotted Tendrik and Tiriel playing Longest War. Or, to be exact, Tiriel sweeping the floor with the cyborg, though the process was much slower than the first time, and the transhuman managed to get at least a few hits in.

Since he had nothing interesting to do, he stood behind the couch and observed the fierce battle on the screen. Tiriel had, once again, chosen Liberator, taking full advantage of his insane reaction speed. Tendrik decided to pick a different character.

It was a towering humanoid, either wearing full armor or simply a robot. Its white surface was smooth, save for the faceplate which was covered in glowing hexagons. It also had glowing and weirdly geometric ‘wings’, shining yet slightly transparent. The design was completed with a familiar shield - a buckler surrounded by an array of translucent hexagons - and a long half-pike with a blade made of a material similar to the wings.

Its lifebar was signed as ‘High Songspeaker of the First Hexagon’. Faction: Sidhe. The colour of the text segment indicated it was an alien.

I have so many goddamn things to learn, aren’t I? Also… why the heck is its design so subtly familiar to the cookie deliverer?! He was an alien?!

The fight ended with Liberator breaking the facemask of the High Songspeaker, and then, while the enemy was still stunned, impaling the Sidhe onto his own half-pike. Though with his lifebar being half-empty, this was almost a fight rather than a massacre.

“Ah, damn it.” Tendrik groaned. “So much about the idea of the longer reach negating your speed.”

“I told you it wouldn’t work.” Tiriel was brutally honest. “It’s certainly helpful for your character, but without skills and experience to employ it properly, it won’t bring you anywhere. Ask Christopher about playing with you for a while, you need to practice with someone closer to your level.”

“He is probably too busy.” Tendrik answered. Christopher was suddenly gripped with a feeling of guilt. Wasn’t he technically eavesdropping on the cyborg? “He is quite a work-a-holic, though in denial.”

“That’s harsh.” Christopher decided that staying silent any longer wouldn’t be fair. His words surprised Tendrik, but not Tiriel. Who either had more self-control or had heard his arrival.

“Oh, Chris. I didn’t see you coming.” Tendrik replied. “Do you want to play?” Christopher weighed the options in his mind. Finally he arrived at the conclusion.

“Yeah, why not.” Not enough people to play Gates of Infinity, and I’m not in a mood for watching films or reading something.

He sat on the couch, right between the elf and the transhuman. Despite acting all friendly right before his arrival, they still quickly jump on the occasion to place someone between them.

Tendrik once again returned to picking Innocent as his character. Christopher decided to go random. He rolled the Damnatio Memoriae, the first and last Hegemon of Discord. A towering monster of a man in powered armour full of sharp edges and spikes, and with a banner made of human skin attached to a pole starting right behind his head.

I seriously hope this is some ‘darker and edgier’ take on the Discord. If they are using such aesthetics, my desire to return to the 21st Century will intensify at least tenfold.

Five minutes of intense close quarters combat later, the Damnatio Memoriae ended up caving in Innocent’s head with a vertical swing of his massively oversized archeotech hammer.

“Ffffff…” Tendrik’s voice was interrupted when his eyes meet Tiriel’s. “Fabulous. Yes, fabulous. Ugh.” He shook his head. “I’m never going to get better in Longest War.”

“You’ve improved a lot.” Christopher replied. “Last time I wiped the floor with you. I lost like, 10% of health? This time you got more than half of it.” Of course I used a character I’m unfamiliar with. Makes me wonder who would win if I fought against Tiriel?

“Mmmm… are you sure you are ok?” Tendrik asked him suddenly. “You seem… a bit tired? I expected you to be slightly more humorous and talkative about it. Are you still influenced by your talk with Tiaa?”

“Sorry.” Chris had to admit that Tendrik’s observations were spot on, save for the last sentence. “My studies of the events between the 21st and 28th Centuries brought me into a subject sorta ruined my mood.” Since Tendrik and Tiriel seemed to be looking at him questioningly, he decided to explain. “Humanity Ascension Program.”

Their reaction could be compared to one of a person who just smelled something rotten and recoiled with disgust.

“That’s certainly something to ruin one’s mood.” Tiriel agreed. “Though I have doubts if criticizing it won’t make me a hypocrite, as my nation was responsible for the second or third largest genocide after the HAP.”

“Those were the Red Brotherhood crazies.” Tendrik replied. “Learning details about them changed the Confederation’s opinion about their genocide from ‘how could you kill five billion people!’ to ‘how could you let few thousand of them survive and hide in Discord!’. So yeah, you have a full right to criticize it. Just as I have a full right to criticize the crazies of the Transhuman Alliance.” He shook his head. It was the first time Christopher had seen him this serious and this angry.

“I guess…” Tiriel sighed. “I’m just happy that nobody does such things anymore. The risk of getting exiled from the Confederation and then murdered by your neighbors in no time is a nice way to make people nicer to each other.”

“Well, at least I now understand why transhumans are disliked so much.” Christopher commented. When Tendrik looked at him with a worry on his face, he quickly corrected himself. “I ‘understand’ that on an intellectual level. I don’t share the sentiment. Besides, it’s not like you were there, right?” the Cyborg replied with a nod and a look of relief on his face.

“Yeah. All the transhuman countries remaining in the Confederation are descendants of the Unforgiven, who sided with the Commonwealth during the War of Purity.” Tendrik explained. “Remnants of those who stayed loyal to the Alliance reside in the Discord, and honestly… they aren’t really transhumans anymore. More like exhumans or posthumans. Kill on sight everywhere. The post-Unforgiven are second-grade citizens in every non-transhuman country, at least those without the ‘shoot them on sight’ policy towards transhumans.” He let out a pained sigh. “So in less than half of the Confederation members.”

Christopher glanced at Tiriel. He didn’t think she would notice, but she did.

“I dislike him because of his cybernetic transformationism, not because he is a transhuman.” Her answer was brutally honest. She had a tendency to answer this way, sometimes completely ignoring the feelings of other people. “The creators of the first elves used some genes of the Pure Line transhumans, so I’m technically 1/20 transhuman myself.”

“That’s 1/20 of the Line which was both most humanitarian and weirdest of them all during the War of Purity.” Tendrik commented. “Pure were pretty much humans genetically perfected into being to other humans what they were to chimpanzees.” He added as an explanation to Christopher. “And their contribution to the Humanity Ascension Program was limited to forcing genetic treatment that made humans in their territory give birth to more Pure. Which they changed halfway and reverted all changes when they decided that Alliance is going to lose the war. Being 1/20 of a Pure makes more people like you than dislike you. Being a Mechanist, Virtual or, worst case scenario, a Robotic or Immortal is much worse.”

“So, what’s actually the difference between Variants and Transhumans?” Christopher decided to finally ask the question. “Because I think I have yet to learn about that.”