The battle raged behind and below. Ice-Driller, his crew, and the object continued to follow.

Overlapping war sounds bubbled up from below. A swordfin squealed from a bolt impact, only to have their rider dismount and spear the attacker, whose death cry rang out. Others stayed mounted and their swordfin bit the enemy and thrashed their heads furiously, shaking the enemy decapods.

Eventually, two sword-fin riders came up and asked them if they needed help. They directed Ice-Driller to the local militia headquarters.

The quintet left the sounds of war behind and crossed the city’s threshold.

The headquarters were in a reinforced, conical building, designed to deflect any siege rocks down its steep sides. He announced himself and asked to see who was in charge. These soldiers on the brink of battle cared nothing about civilian theological council spats, but still Ice-Driller was worried they might arrest him on sight, but they showed no interest. Only angry confusion emerged from the captain about what Ice-Driller was claiming.

Behind Ice-Driller, in full earshot of the militia headquarters, soldiers and citizens alike gathered around the strange object that followed him. Questions emerged from the initially quiet bystanders.

“What is it?”

“It’s like a Floating Rock—”

“No, a building!”

This led more of the curious away from their hiding spaces, and more chatter erupted.

“—Shhh everyone, listen to it.”

“See how it moves so strangely?”

The alien object emitted unfamiliar sounds and added to the general clamor around, which had convinced the captain to call his superiors. Back at the object, Ice-Driller’s remaining three travelers attempted to corral the citizens back. A soldier rapped on the probe’s outer hull with a spear. Dink, dink, dink.

Ice-Driller swam back. “Please don’t touch! You might misguide the object.”

“Okay, Okay, Dr. Science.” He said backing up. “I was just curious.” All decapods are intensely curious use it to excuse any breach of conduct.

“Back to your positions!” A sergeant ordered.

Now a few citizens approached and asked more questions. Before they answered, the Captain came back with a different squad armed with nets and rope. “We’ve been ordered to bring it over towards the military bunker,” He said.

The object resisted being hauled only a minor portion of the time. It seemed to go in the general direction they were all being led. As long as it progressed towards more heat, the device was pliant, almost like they were guiding instead of tugging. At other times it quickly diverted direction, and after a ping and strange emotional flashing, it seemed pacified.

The city took on more regal appearances. Homes became bigger and multifamily. Swimlanes were populated by those going about their last business before a siege set in. Shops were doing a brisk business in the essentials, meanwhile the shell or trinket sellers were empty. Buildings were larger and better insulated. They could see warm water wafting through the holes around the hatches as decapods exited buildings. The mood of the city was calm, but tense. These high-born thought, surely the invaders would spare by the nobility.

Citizens stopped and admired a column of troops or a school of swordfish riders pass through the city, only to be stopped by surprise where they swam by the object. Echolocation pings shot from every angle at them and the captain would reply with 'no comment' to every question.

They approached the city’s military headquarters. Near to the Academy and where Ice-Gazer was held.

It was easy to see the object was not some conniving contrivance of the enemy. The thing was so alien, so sleek. It looked nothing like the rough pressure-cast metallurgy anywhere on their planet. In addition, the internal structure was so detailed, ‘alien’ would be the only description of the manufacturing technology, detail which extended far beyond the limitations of their sonar.

The object’s general demeanor was also not alarming. Nothing it did was hasty, and its strange slow actions startled no one. The solid, shapeless color of its light sparked no alarm.

The troop halted above an empty plaza surrounded and topped by urchin spiked netting. No decapod could slip through from above without impaling itself.

The net opened up and military officers came out.

“What is this thing? Who brought it here?” An older general barked out. Near him, some staff officer hastily replied to each question.

“I brought it here. It is an intelligent device from Overworld.” Ice-Driller said, ignoring the staff officers and addressing to the general.

“It's an enemy ruse! We should destroy it!” One of the staff officers shouted out.

The general squirted a jet of water directly at that officer, making him wince. “Ha. Any enemy is welcome to craft metal into such a dull shape!” Other staff officers nodded in agreement, as each attempted to calculate the armor and spears if they could scrape it. “What do you call yourself?”

One lieutenant tried to reply “Yes, sir, this is um, one of the ah scientists—”

“I am Ice-Driller, son of Ice-Gazer, the accused,” he replied confidently, cutting off the stupefied staff officer. “And I come with something that we can use to bargain for peace.”

“Peace? It would be nice if that tide flowed in, but I fear it cannot. Come, let us move inside while we discuss.” The general said. “Come inside. And bring that thing under netting.”

The probe sat at the sea bottom, silently observing the bustle of activity around it. It gave a high confidence score that it had detected multicellular life. This triggered a large reward goal, its science score, that it continued to rack up simply by observing. Though it had incomplete baselines, it judged from Earth's baseline data that a ‘large’ hydrothermal vent must be nearby in order to support such biomass. This was its principle goal: to locate, sample, and record. The object’s thermal sensors detected flickering glows of warm water from all around at random intervals, none of which matched even the synthetic data Dalton had generated.

The probe's calculations showed a hydrothermal vent nearby. Plumes of biomass and warmth radiated from the same point not far away. The data was correlated.

Though partially obstructed by the netting, the probe planned a maneuver. It rose quickly and shook off the netting (including a few guards) and swam toward more data.

“It's on the loose!” A soldier cried out.

Ice-Driller and the general returned from the headquarters in time to see a large net being carried by the squad.

“We left the experiments tied to it.” Study-Up said. “Get them off.”

Ice-Driller and his cohort darted toward the alien craft. It proceeded towards the center of Deepvent.

Through the city, the probe sailed. It emitted a nearly constant barrage of , calling all below to look up at the alien object. Trailing behind the residents could picture a line of other decapods pursuing.

Cruising above the houses and streets, it arrived above the industrial and government mound of the city. The same predicament greeted the probe as in the suburb of LittleSeep, decapod society had fully built over the hydrothermal vent. Major outflows from industrial buildings were completely tepid. Small leaks of warmth were too diffuse for it to conclude ‘vent’. Still, the structures glowed with warmth all around.

“It's stopping,”

By now, scores of city dwellers left their houses and followed. The pings were so bizarre of a frequency, instinctively their curiosity took control.

There was no keeping this hidden—hard proof of another intelligence outside their own was visible to all.

“Unwrap our other experiments and get it off the thing.“ Ice-Driller said. A quiver of fear went through his mind as he imagined the object floating back up to the top with the experiments. They had taken for granted that the object had previously followed with no hesitation.

The device stopped in front of the Academy, which was built over the aquacultural and industrial basements (which were built over the raging furnace that was Deepvent). He was not sure where his father was, but it seems likely that they would sequester him in a cellar. This was the center of the heatsources around.

All around him, a large crowd of curious decapods exited their multi story homes and gathered around him and his crew. He swam up to a third level spot and began his speech.

“Citizens of Deepvent! See and hear our discovery. Our world is not alone in the universe. There is intelligence outside of our icy shell—beyond Nullworld. I have retrieved a ‘mobile-building’ of theirs interested in communicating with us.” Minor lies, of course. It was not retrieved, and he had no power to communicate underwater or above in Nullworld. Regardless, he recounted their story and their discoveries.

The plaza's population increased as he talked.

Next, Study-Up began. “Citizens, I have found alternative sources of food that grow near the Nullworld.” She covered her research (briefly), and they were certain of the new life and new power—tapping a kind of cold energy. “If we can cultivate these creatures—another line of nutrition—can satisfy us. One which does not depend on the vents. We don’t have to fight to the death for food when a vent goes cold.”

A natural stopping point formed, and they allowed the populace to one-by-one examine the evidence for themselves. The Overworld Stone, with density far over normal ores, the sonopictures of the Great Attractor, Study-Up’s damaged tube, with the harpoon still hooked.

But the probe continued to draw the most attention and behaved passively again. Some of the militia helped control the plaza mod and allowed the throng to approach one by one and visualize the strange object with their own custom frequencies.

Ice-Driller took questions, of which he could answer little. Where are they from? What do they look like? Will they ally with us? ... He answered most truthfully—he did not know all the facts—yet. He revealed the probe had left pieces of itself at the ice shell.

Thermal-Rock excitedly answered questions too, and incorrectly claimed the Great Attractor was the source of the aliens.

One leader of the city, a somber, important decapod, asked, “How can this lift the siege?” And soon moved the crowd’s minds back towards the siege. “Well… We will meet with the enemy and explain everything.““Ha, we’ve already tried that. Why should they listen to you?““Well… and a few researchers at the station that we know well were from Hotsmoke,“ said Ice Driller.“They could have been spies,“ the leader scoffed. “This thing does nothing for us.”

During the conversation, Ice-Driller could sense activity from the Academy behind him. He continued to have his back towards the stone walled building. He sensed a hatch had opened.

The crowd quieted down as the vice-provost, the second highest position at the Academy, sensed it was an opportune time to counterattack.

He called for quiet and mock-inspected the collected evidence (which he had poorly viewed from afar). It was an overwhelming, far beyond any imagination of evidence anyone could have expected Ice-Driller to find. The vice-provost did not attempt a frontal assault against this data, nor the object.

He swam around over the top of the object. “Citizens! There is a great deal that Ice-Driller doesn’t know about these artifacts. And even less he knows about the current situation—”

“No, no, you twit!” Ice-Driller had wanted to say.

“As we all know, the situations have changed.” The crowd nodded and the vice-provost continued. “Investigate the alien object and see, yes, it is a fine device of unknown origin. Everyone can get close and visualize its internals. But again, let us address the issue at hand. How do you plan to end this war? What will this do? For us? Right now?”

“I have come with hard proof that my father’s research was accurate. The Great Attractor exists! Let the theologians debate its significance, if any, but I demand his release now!”

What Ice-Driller didn't fully understand because of his absence was the overwhelming pessimism by all. The citizens had also lost faith, if not in the existence of a god, then the certainty god was on their side. To have a city lose its vent was a sign of lost favor—cursed ones, but to lose the battle against them was even lower of a standing.

The series of battles and machinations that had thrust their armies from a far away idea to a looming fear overhead had eviscerated hope. Pierced like a flechette, crushed like a sieged building. Their weak allies fled, and every staunch friend bombarded into submission. Deepvent lay alone on the dark seafloor.

“I come to free my father—if what I found frees our city, wonderful, but I have delivered what I promised.”

When the populace heard Ice-Driller’s request, a simple request by a son to free a father, a chant of ‘Free Ice-Gazer’ came from the crowd (unnaturally instigated by Thermal-Rock and Sand-Stirrer). Others were already derisive of the intellectual class, and now openly mocked the vice-provost.

Fearing a mob who had nothing left to lose, especially with a story of a family reunited. The vice-provost relented and released his father. “Fine, fine, we'll release him,” he said and swam through the building's hatch.

Chants continued.

Ice-Driller got back up and quieted the crowd. “Citizens, I have no wonder weapon to defeat our adversary… no way to kill their troops. But here's what I have: Unmistakable proof we are not alone in this universe.” He reproduced the sounds the probe had first sent out to him for the crowd. “We have been victim to a suffocating theology that says there is no more beyond the ice. Only a few limited vents, only so much heat divide. It is a smothering idea, (and responsible for many deaths over history).”

“I have proven with the Overworld Stone: more metals and minerals exist. With the sonopicture of The Great Attractor: Large swirling worlds exist. Study-Up's research: More food. And the probe… It gave me a vision of another world. A water world no different from us.”

“As for the enemy, I have only this to offer them: These Truths.” To his surprise, an approving tumult of clicks, squeaks, and chirps erupted from the citizenry.

At that moment, a large stone door opened from the Academy and out came a bedraggled decapod. Ice-Driller swam towards him and popped out an ping.

Ice-Gazer flashed his personal color pattern, a design that Ice-Driller knew instinctively, since he was an unnamed paralarva growing in the crèche. It was his father. Dots extended over each arm, clustered toward the middle and a prominent zig-zag on the sound melon.

“Father!”

The two decapods embraced.

Happy strobes of warmth erupted from their skin. Ice-Driller could not stop his skin from cycling through emotional patterns of happiness, joy, and belonging. All this time, he had been suppressing his colors, trying to guide everyone through the tumult. Barely a flash of green excitement had even left him since his father had been imprisoned. Now emotions erupted from their bio luminescent skin. Bright flashes, stripes, dots of warmth that only close decapods could see in red. Automatic responses to the achieving an overwhelming goal of freeing his father.

Ice-Driller was overcome with emotion and lit up mid infrared, which could only be seen by Ice-Gazer. He wrapped four of his tentacles around his father’s frontal arms. Then his skin flashed speckles of yellow around his skin in a way that suggested others to come.

Study-Up came next and knotted her tentacles around the arms of the other two. Then Thermal-Rock and Sand-Stirrer swam and joined the bond. Flashes of emotion in the red and infrared spectrum lit up only their nearby water and transmitted between them.

Vivid emotions became infectious and others joined. Now they all cycled through the yellow color. Bright, colorful feelings swirled over their skin and still more were drawn into the gaggle. Each new arrival extended their free arms out to cover more in the plaza in all directions.

Ice-Gazer and his son Ice-Driller were the main driving node in this colorful throng. Pulsating hot emotion between them and extending yellowish colors throughout as the community instinctively copied them. These pulsations triggered a calm belong throughout all connected. Belonging to a group, belonging to a moment, all experiencing the light show together.

Hatches opened and more swam out, even from the underground areas of Deepvent. Arms extended and others grabbed hold and a dense net of connected decapods ran through the plaza.

A rhythmic humming, almost a purr, then emerged as the congregation reached a critical mass count. Hundreds and then thousands of individuals swarmed the plaza, joining the web of unconstrained emotional release. The stress and uncertainty of the upcoming siege poured out from everyone onto the city seafloor. Further emotional color back-propagated from the edges toward the center knot of originators. This swell of support and emotion fed further emotion in the two at the center until they lit up every portion of their skin.

Hot pulses of infrared seen only those who held arms, light blues, happy greens, social yellows all interspersed with automatic requests and the members each lighting up their personal colors.

A thousand strong pulsed.

Slowly, the crowd coiled in three dimensions over the core two.

Then synchronization took over the conjoined inhabitants, starting with blue, which coordinated those furthest out.

Then yellow-green came over their skin and the city was aglow in ambiance.

Next yellow with flecks of red.

Finally infrared.

“You were right, father, there is another world, and one with much water.”

Still alight with emotion, Ice-Gazer only managed a soft, “Yes.”

The net of social color dimmed.

During this social phenomenon, the probe stood still and made a few sounds and took no action, even when touched by decapods attempting to connect it to the emotional knot. Some decapods swore they detected flashes from the machine and it contributed to the light show.

Ice-Driller swam up and addressed the crowd. “Citizens. I must leave for the front. I intend to tell to the enemy that Life, Intelligent Life, exists in the Nullworld just past our icy-shell. And that sphere is watery, massive, capable of life. There is no limit to life’s possible fecundity. No niche it can’t live in. That the 'universe' is not a small surface area of sphere to be endlessly sliced up by violence. A world, a giant massive world, exists beyond the ice. Our whole cosmology was flawed, and thus let's cast off its suffocating conclusion. We don’t need to fight bitterly to exist.”

Pings of agreement were heard through the plaza. Flashes of emotion lit anew from any decapods still connected, most now in clumps of four or five individuals.

“Bravo, bravo, such an excellent speaker you've always been,” the vice-provost said with sarcasm. “But the fact remains. The enemy still battles on.” He addresses the crowd now. His exterior was cold, showing no gleams of emotion. “I nominate Ice-Gazer and Driller to go now and stop the enemy.”

This proposal, of course, was out of jealousy. The best thing to diffuse the scent in the mental water was to send them off and get them out of the population’s mind. Steer the populace towards more practical matters: fight, flight, or freeze. The enemy was coming, but the provost felt certain they would spare him. Certainly they will save the scientists, he thought hopefully, about his enemies.

Now the quintet of decapods made their way toward the front line.

Exiting city’s central plaza, with its large industrial factories, swimlanes, government institutes, and fashionable residential homes of many hatches, the water grew mild as they traveled into the middle-class areas with workshops, food stalls, and more irregularly built structures.

Sand-Stirrer and Thermal-Rock tried to get the probe to follow them with the same methods they had previously used in open water: continually projecting the image-sound of a bubbling thermal vent. In the dense cityscape with the hard rectilinear blocks of rock walls and irregular corals jutting about, it became clear the probe would not reliably follow any longer. On the outskirts of the middle class ring around the city, within earshot of the front lines, it stopped.

The water was cooler now, the pipes of warm water out this far were little trickles, no bigger than the claw on their two feeding arms. Decapod life out here was brutish and short. The citizenry was silent and huddled in their hovels. They just waited for the inevitable: assault, predation, starvation—none were unusual around here. Death at the tip of a spear from a foreign soldier was no more foreign than in the jaws of a mandible shark.

The slums devolved from nice rock hewn buildings into simple basalt boulders with barnacles covering small holes underneath which sufficed for houses. Rocks were strewn everywhere, along with irregular coral fans sprouted up alongside the decapod nets. Both methods displayed a passive hope to catch the slimmest of sustenance.

When in the past the probe had been more receptive to following the ‘hot smoker’ image project by the decapods, it ignored the false sonar images. Instead, it flipped over rocks. Other times a small proboscis emerged from the well sealed hull and they heard the sound of high frequency grinding. This annoyed the decapods to no end, and a continued flurries of faux-images, of imaginary rocks, or colossal sea creatures, nothing made the probe travel on.

“Ice-Driller. I don’t think the object wishes to go any further.” Study-Up said.

“How are we going to sue for peace if we can’t show we command the aliens?” Ice-Driller exasperated. He picked up a rock, intending to throw it at the stubborn object.

Then sounds emerged from within the probe.

Quick clicks, sonic snapshots to visualize the strange device were emitted. The object's insides became out, and none could articulate the image.

“What's that!” Thermal-Rock asked, pointing a tentacle towards the front of the craft and casting a sound towards it.

“It’s—It’s, throwing up! Alien regurgitation?” Ice-Gazer asked. Two of his tentacles rubbed his sound melon. In the off-chance, he had something stuck to his face that obscured the signal. “Why does it not need these parts any longer?” He asked, amazed.

“The probe had left so much,” Study-Up said.

Out came what looked like hollow cylinders of metal, all high precision solid metal like the rest of the object. But the outside of the parts had finely cut markings. Oddly enough, the decapods recognized it immediately. It was writing, pictorial even!