Chapter 7 – Ignorance Is Bliss

512 A.R. February 16, Fenrir, Midday

A loud rumble shook the ship, and the engines shut off in an instant.

[System Uplink with ‘Fenrir’ established] [Entering Cooldown & Maintenance phase]

I leaned my head back against the seat, and I could feel my inner self withdraw from the ship. Tingles ran through my body, and I drew a deep breath as I felt my heart pound a little harder.

It took a moment, but I forced my hands to let go of the silver-covered interfaces.

As the connection was severed, I found myself with a strange sensation. Limited and alone, a feeling that made the walls seem oppressive. I closed my eyes, drew a deep breath as I felt my chest expand, and took my time exhaling. The sensation faded away, warmth returned to my hands, and I felt my ears wiggle as everything began to settle.

I need to ask about this sometime… Is it intentional? A side-effect?

I opened my eyes once more and was surprised that something seemed to have changed compared to earlier. The presence of the ship had been little more than a shadow before I had been physically connected to it, but now it felt as if the ship’s intelligence had opened up to me.

‘Thank you,’ I thought, and directed my thoughts to it.

Like before the intelligence didn’t speak with words, but I could still feel what I'd consider a nod of approval.

‘Flip the chair around for me and open the hatch, will you?’ I thought.

At once the chair began to rotate, and the hatch in the rear lowered itself. A scent was quick to enter the ship, warm metal and ozone mingling together. No doubt a result of the fusion engines.

It made my nose tingle as I stood up and began to walk toward the exit. As I stepped onto the hangar floor, I could feel the intense heat radiating from the nearby engines. It drove me on, and I marched toward the large bulkhead that had opened up at the end of the hangar.

As I walked, I caught movement near the bulkhead.

Within moments a group of four had moved to block it. A group of wolves by the look of it, a pack with their larger Alpha standing at the front. The Alpha wore a simple t-shirt that showed off the bulging muscle of his arms, and a pair of baggy shorts that made it look as if he’d rushed here in a hurry. Two of those who were standing to his left had yellow uniforms that looked packed with tools, while the one to his right had a laboratory coat coupled with some kind of visor that covered one eye. They all stared at me as I approached, and the Alpha crossed his arms.

I eased up on the shield protecting my own mind, and I felt the rest of the world open up as a result.

The subordinates of the pack seemed to have closed off their minds, but the Alpha had something of a glow to him as I felt his telepathic presence. Moments later, he promptly sealed his own mind off and grew a frown.

I stopped in front of them, just outside of reaching distance, and focused on the Alpha. A gray-furred wolf, similar to John, with a set of orange eyes.

The ones in uniform brushed up closer to their alpha, while the female to the right stepped aside as if to get a better look at me for some reason.

As I was about to speak up, the Alpha interrupted, “Why are you here?”

Pleasant… Well, let’s go with the truth…

I motioned to myself, “I’m Vilkas, and I'm here to pay James a visit.”

The Alpha blinked as if not having expected that answer, “… James Grohol? The psychiatrist?”

I nodded, “That’s the one.”

The Alpha drew a deep breath, “If he has done something then you’ll hand over whatever evidence you have, and we’ll perform our own investigation. You can wait in your ship.”

I blinked in confusion, “Ah, no… He hasn’t done anything, I'm just here for a visit.”

Once more the Alpha stared at me, and the rest of his companions began to look at one another in confusion.

“… You expect us to believe that the guy who has been riling up humans, is rumored to be a Dualist, and has just now arrived in a fucking Lunar Shuttle, is just here to visit an old friend?”

I waited for a moment, “… Yes.”

The Alpha’s muzzle moved as he was grinding a piece of bone to dust, “You are part of the Space Initiative, correct?”

“… No, I'm not,” I said.

At least I don’t think I am…

The Alpha’s expression shifted, and his ears twitched as he reached up with a hand to scratch his brow, “… Then do explain how on Earth you’ve managed to get hold of a shuttle like that?”

I raised my hands, and shrugged, “I think it’s a test to be honest. Athena informed me that there would be transportation waiting for me in the hangar, and apparently this shuttle ended up being my ride.”

The Alpha sighed, glanced at his companions for a moment, and then looked back at me, “… I must admit that I've never encountered a Space Initiative agent that would lie if asked about his affiliation, or try to infiltrate a place in a way like this.”

I took another step closer, and tipped my head, “That’s because I'm not a Space Initiative agent.”

“… Are you a Dualist?” The Alpha asked, and perked his brow to give me another stare.

I guess it was only a matter of time before this started becoming common knowledge…

I nodded, “Yes, I am.”

The Alpha looked back at his companions and confirmed it with a glance, “I’ll take care of it from here, okay?”

The ones in uniform nodded and began to march off. The female gave the alpha another cautious glance, and then walked off with a hushed whisper, “Be careful.”

As the others marched off, I took another step closer, and extended my hand, “Now let’s try this again, I’m Vilkas.”

The Alpha looked down at my hand, seemed to weigh his options for a moment, and then reached out his hand. I took it and felt the hint of a tingle between us.

“You’ll have to excuse me, but I'm not going to link up with a Dualist,” The Alpha murmured.

The connection fizzled out within moments, and the Alpha sighed in relief as he shook my hand.

“… I scare you, why?” I asked as our eyes met once more.

The Alpha inched closer to me while still holding my hand, “Dualists tend to dig deeper than others, and I still don’t trust you.”

“Fair enough, though I have a load of questions regarding that,” I said.

The Alpha let out something of an amused huff, and then tipped his head to the side. It felt as if our instincts had begun to talk with one another, and I reciprocated as I tipped my muzzle and leaned in closer.

Our heads touched, fur brushed against fur, and we both drew a deep breath. His scent was rich with the presence of his companions, and there was a distinct hint of what I'd consider a garage.

There we go…

We eased back from one another, and the Alpha had now grown a subtle but still present smile.

“I’m Dalton… My apologies if you are who you say you are.”

I let go of his hand and motioned to the bulkhead, “Mind if we step inside, the hangar stinks of ozone.”

“Of course,” Dalton stepped into the hallway, and I followed.

Within moments the bulkhead began to close, and I turned my attention to him once more, “I’m not that experienced to be honest, so you’ll have to excuse the questions if they seem ignorant.”

“Noted,” Dalton said.

“Why the strong reaction? What if I had been with Space Initiative? Would you have been able to stop me?” I asked.

Dalton glanced to the side as if unsure how to answer, and then stuffed his thumbs into his pockets, “Such a complicated question... One, no one likes a visit from the moon. Two, then you’d have been ordered to sit in your ship, and we wouldn’t have let you in here until our investigation was complete. Three, not really.”

“I see,” I said, and then tipped my head in wonder, “So what are you hiding here?”

An annoyed murmur escaped from Dalton’s throat, “We are not hiding anything. This is a research facility, and we’re not keen on the moon trying to recruit people.”

“… I thought the Fenrir was a defense dreadnought guarding the border?” I said.

Dalton stepped to the side and motioned for me to follow, “It was, until a few years ago.”

“What changed?” I asked.

Dalton pointed upward, “He hasn’t introduced himself yet, but Fenrir is a class six Expert System, the only type that’s shown itself capable of developing true sapience.”

Without warning a male voice filled the hallway, “Personally I find it foolish to encourage my deviancy.”

Dalton glanced up, “We are not going to let you kill yourself, Fenrir.”

“I would be far more effective following a reset… My duty is to protect the border, not spend countless processing cycles pondering whatever obsession that will strike me next,” Fenrir said.

Dalton looked over at me, “As you can see, we are having some trouble convincing our newest crew member that his life has value.”

“You are all playing a dangerous game, Dalton… Don’t blame me when everything goes wrong.”

Dalton focused on me as we walked, “This kind of thing is rare, and we’re here to help Fenrir on his journey, as well as learn how this process works exactly. The Space Initiative has similar interests and has offered to take care of Fenrir. We have done our best to… delicately refuse.”

“Seems like a dicey situation,” I said.

Dalton stopped in front of an elevator, and its doors opened as he motioned for me to enter, “So far the requests have come from individual agents rather than the official command structure on Moonbase Alpha.”

“Thus the requests can be refused, because they don’t have Maxwell’s backing?” I asked, while I stepped inside.

“Something like that,” Dalton answered, and followed.

The doors to the elevator closed, and we began to accelerate upwards, “Are there a lot of you here?”

“About 40 researchers, usually the Fenrir operates on a skeleton crew due to its proximity to the border,” Dalton said.

“Are you part of that team, or…” I said.

Dalton looked over at me, “Wolves can be researchers as well, you know?”

“Thus the question,” I said.

Dalton pointed at my uniform, “My pack and I used to wear uniforms like that, but we eventually found that tech is more fun than dealing with humans, so we ended up here. We were supposed to learn the guts of this thing as engineers in training, but then Fenrir started asking questions which were… peculiar. At that point we reached out for assistance, and now we’re somewhere in between worlds. We help out the researchers, learn from them, and so on…”

“Why not move to a safer location?” I asked.

“Fenrir is needed out here, both to help organize our forces, and make sure we can deliver a punch when needed. As for the AI itself, it’s not that easy to extract.”

Fenrir spoke up, “I am hardware bound to a set of quantum computing based neural networks and I am unlikely to remain stable if a major disruption occurs.”

Dalton motioned to me, “Which is why we’re here, to study, help, and make the long-term modifications that are needed to one day move Fenrir.”

Fenrir spoke up once more, “Vilkas… If I am indeed what they say, a sapient being, should I not have a say in my future?”

Dalton looked at me, “He’s playing a game a cruel game with you, ignore it.”

“I should have the right to decide that I do not want to exist,” Fenrir added.

I sure as hell didn’t expect this when I stepped on board…

I looked up toward the ceiling, “Your duty is to protect the border. You think that your budding sapience endangers that. Thus, you want a reset in order to do your duty.”

“Exactly! See, Dalton? Our newcomer agrees with me,” Fenrir added.

I raised my hand, “What if your Sapience makes you much better at your duty?”

“One does not play dice with military maneuvers. You analyze the situation and follow whatever approach has the highest likelihood of success. In my case, I pose a risk to the entire defensive line,” Fenrir countered.

I looked down, “Is that what Ares thinks as well?”

Fenrir was silent.

The elevator slowed to a stop, and the doors opened.

Dalton stepped outside, and glanced back at me, “Ares encourages our operation here; he’s eager to have a brother.”

“… Ares takes unnecessary risks all the time, and sooner or later it will backfire,” Fenrir said as I stepped out of the elevator.

Dalton faced the hallway that we had stepped into, and pointed at the far end, “James spends most of his time in the observation tower. Be careful though, there’s little to protect you from danger, and I'd advise running if you hear the sirens.”

I looked down the hallway, “Ah, so that’s where we were heading.”

Dalton smiled as he bared his teeth, “Don’t try to get close to Fenrir’s core, we’ll be keeping an eye on you during your stay. Understand?”

I looked back at him, and bared my own teeth, “Understood.”

512 A.R. February 16, Fenrir – Observation Tower, Midday

I stepped up to the edge of the observation tower and found myself in a dome shaped structure. Metal struts rose around me in the shape of hexagons that held glass panes in place. The air felt cool, but definitely above the freezing point.

The interior of the dome was empty apart from a spot in the very center. It drew my attention, and I could see what looked like a small den. There was a large round mat on the floor, and on top of it was a small table, a couch, a single light, as well as what looked like several stacks of books.

Sitting in the couch, seemingly sleeping, was a figure I recognized.

James…

Another coyote, like Corvyn, but that’s where the similarities ended. James was clad in the same kind of lab coat as ever, and he was slim like a fox. His fur looked like a dense brush with a complex texture of white, black, and orange.

My tail swished and I began to approach in silence. It almost took a minute to tiptoe across the room, and creep up to the backside of the couch. In silence, I leaned over the couch and loomed over him.

He had fallen asleep with a book in his hands, and his head had leaned back against the tall back of the couch. I could feel the scent wafting off his body as I focused on the book’s title.

The Philosophy of Human Nature…

Based on his scent he hadn’t showered in a while, nor did he smell of the chemicals one would find in a hospital. It made his scent a lot less sterile, and I drew a deep breath to pull it in.

I remember the last time we spoke…

You told me where Jason had gone, and that you were going to keep an eye on the cult…

So, what happened?

James began to stir, no doubt alerted by his nose.

His muzzle shifted, and then he blinked. A split-second later his eyes flashed wide, and for a moment his hands gripped at the book as if he was trying to rip it apart. I smiled back, and after a moment of terror, he began to relax.

“For fu- Damn it, almost made my heart stop,” James grumbled and gritted his teeth for a moment as pulled himself into a proper sitting position.

I moved to the front of the couch, and faced him, “Afternoon, James.”

James muttered under his breath and opened his book to check on something. He then slammed it shut, reached out, and placed it on the table next to the couch.

“I’d ask how you found me, and how you got here, but there’s only one logical answer to that. So let’s skip the formalities; what is it that you want with me?” James asked, and leaned back as he lifted his gaze to focus on me.

I motioned to him, “You certainly seem to be in a lousy mood.”

James squinted, brought his hands together, and then rubbed them idly, “I came here to be left alone, and we’re not friends, so I can only assume Athena sent you here.”

I leaned back in surprise, and felt my ears wiggle, “… Well, we might not be friends, but-”

James focused on me, “Jason was my patient, not you, Vilkas.”

I glanced away for a moment, and then eased myself down so that I could sit on the floor, “Then you have my apologies for invading your private time.”

James raised his brow, “You say this as you sit down for what I can only assume to be a talk with me.”

I stifled a chuckle, and looked back at him, “Yeah, well… I have a job to do.”

James sighed and leaned forward, “Oh, and what job would that be?”

“I’m looking for answers, and I suspect you may have some of them,” I said.

“… Hmm, and you came all the way out here?” James said and kept staring at me.

“It’s training week for wolves trying to join the Defense Force, and I was in the area.”

James squinted as if uncertain, “You don’t seem to be lying, but there are a lot of ways to bend a truth into what you want.”

I nodded, “I know, I know…”

James let out a sigh, and clasped his hands, “Fine, but how about you begin by telling me how Jason is doing?”

“He’s settling in with his new… caretakers, if one can call it that… Truth be told, I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“Busy with other things?” James asked, and motioned to the air.

“That’s one way of putting it,” I said, and nodded.

James glanced at the exit, and made something of a morose smile, “How long are you staying?”

“Until my job is done,” I said.

“Hmm,” James murmured, and looked back at me.

I motioned to him once more, “… So, how about I ask you some questions, James?”

To my surprise, James eased himself out of the chair, and raised his arms to stretch, “Hungry?”

I’m still winding down from the landing, but it would be nice to have something cooked by others…

I lifted my gaze in wonder, and flashed him a smile, “Sure, why not..”

James motioned for me, “Then let’s go for a meal, and afterwards you can ask all you want.”

I began to push myself up, “As you wish.”

512 A.R. February 16, Fenrir – Mess hall, Midday

The first course had been good, spicy chicken, with a creamy sauce on pasta. The dessert that followed was chocolate soufflé, with a layer of whipped cream and a dash of vanilla on it.

James seemed to be in his own world as he scooped out a small piece of cake from his cup. He then stared at it for a moment, popped it in, and chewed with his eyes closed.

Gourmet food wasn’t what I expected to find when I came out here, at the edge of the border, aboard a behemoth built for war. But droids and services seem to be plentiful, perhaps to make up for the downsides of working in an icy waste.

I lifted my gaze to the ceiling, and directed my thoughts to the dreadnought, ‘Fenrir?’

It took a moment, but a connection flickered to life as I heard the AI’s voice, ‘Yes?’

‘Did you make the food?’ I thought.

‘I did, yes,’ Fenrir answered.

‘Well, you seem to have a good sense of taste,’ I thought.

‘Thank you, but I don’t have a sense of taste,’ Fenrir answered simply.

I perked my brow, and took another bite of the soufflé, ‘You don’t have any way of interpolating the experience of taste?’

‘I do… There’s plenty of machinery and synthetics to digitize the experience of taste and smells, but you’re basically asking me to quantify a sensation, or an emotion; which I can’t. In other words, raw data is just raw data to me.’

‘Can sapient AIs do that?’ I wondered.

‘That is up for debate… Over time I have found several anomalies where Athena and Ares certainly seem to display such characteristics, though they have refused to answer my questions regarding it.’

‘Oh, such as?’ I wondered.

‘Records from Athena show that she can grow frustrated with humans, thus lashing out or withdrawing from a conversation. It’s possible that such reactions are merely an act, but I haven’t found a rational reason for why one would do that, let alone why one would desire to have such an emotion.’

‘You mentioned that you had obsessions?’ I thought.

‘Others have spoken to me of these things, and I doubt you will be able to add something that the rest of the research team hasn’t already tried,’ Fenrir answered.

This reminds me of Jason a bit…

‘Are you… depressed, Fenrir?’ I wondered.

Without warning, the link was cut. I blinked in wonder and looked down at my cup for a moment.

Strange…

As I looked up, I could see James looking at me.

“Yes?” I wondered.

“… You seemed to be in your own world?” James asked.

“Just talking with Fenrir a little,” I said.

“Ah, you’re acquainted,” James said.

“Perhaps,” I said, and drew a deep breath, “Why are you here, James?”

James put his cup down on the table, “… I needed a break.”

“From work?” I asked.

James glanced at me with a half-hearted shrug, “There’s something wrong in our society, but I can’t figure out where the fault lies, or how to fix it.”

“… What do you mean?” I asked.

“You faced the cult on your own, isn’t that strange? How can we, the most technologically powerful society left on Earth, which has basically banished heavy labor through the use of droids, let something like that happen?”

“… Well, as much as I disliked it, I also understand why,” I said.

James leaned onto his hand, and perked his brow, “Explain?”

“The humans migrated into the wilderness on their own volition, we didn’t have a right to stop them. Jason wanted to leave your clinic, you allowed that, because you had no right to keep him there as long as he wasn’t suicidal. He then followed the cult, also on his own volition. Athena can’t intervene in a situation like that.”

James nodded, “That’s right, of course, and it sounds simple enough, but...”

“But?” I asked.

James smiled to himself, and huffed, “But that’s not the whole truth, and we both know it. Yes, we respect the choices of people, but only as long as they don’t threaten our survival. We as a society were passive enough that we were willing to let Jason die because of a stupid lapse in judgment. You went out there on your own, convinced him to come back, and rushed back with a mob on your tail. That’s not right. You should have had an escort of drones and droids backing you up. I should have been there.”

“I’m not sure I agree. That kind of firepower behind my back would have completely changed the dynamic that I was dealing with. In fact, it may have convinced Jason to stay, or the others might not have let me see him at all.”

James motioned to me, “And what if you had died, then what?”

I looked to the side, and sighed, “It would have been good to have backup out of sight, to know that I wasn’t facing it alone.”

“Athena didn’t send units until you were run off the road,” James said.

“I think Athena suspected what was going on, but she couldn’t act on it. Suspicion alone isn't enough to call in reinforcements… If I had been smarter, then I would have contacted her and asked for a monitoring droid to accompany me. But I didn’t, because I thought I'd be able to resolve the situation without any violence.”

James chuckled, “And that’s the where the problem is, isn’t it? Our society and the rules that govern it are built around the idea of stable hybrids. Humans don’t have those restraints, and they can exploit the system as they see fit.”

I sighed, and reached up to rub my temple, “Is this why you’re out here? You’re pondering how humans and hybrids fit into the society that we’ve made?”

James waves dismissively with his hand, “It’s one reason, yes…”

“And the other?” I asked.

“The cult, and what rose from the ashes of it, the Luminaire,” James said.

“The Luminaire do seem dangerous, but mostly to other humans,” I said.

James leaned back in his chair, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“You may not know this, but I did follow you into the wastes. It was too late to help you and Jason, but I followed them as they migrated to the coast.”

“Oh,” I said.

James drew a deep breath, “They left a trail of corpses in their wake.”

I blinked, “Corpses?”

James shook his head, “You visited their makeshift camp and saw them up close. Did they look as if they were prepared to live out life in the icy wastes? In the depths of winter, no less?”

“… No, no they didn’t. I can still remember the flimsy tents and the groups of people huddling together for warmth,” I said.

“Well, they started dropping dead along the way. At first, they buried their dead, but the closer they got to the coast, well… The last ones I found didn’t even have clothes, and it looked as if someone had tried to carve a piece out of them.”

I raised my brow, “Cannibalism?”

James twisted in disgust, “An attempt at least… Drones started dropping crates of food for them, and that apparently stilled their hunger.”

“… They received food, from us?” I asked in wonder.

James motioned to me, “There are plenty of humans in the wastes and within the Sanctuaries. None of them are self-sufficient, so unless we’re to let them starve…”

“Ah… So they tried to leave our influence, but in the end they are as reliant on us as ever.”

James glanced at his cup, but seemed to have lost his appetite, “Part of me supports it. It would be inhumane to let them starve. At the same time, I don’t think they’re up to anything good.”

“Are you just saying that because of the situation, or…”

“You’re as skeptical as ever… They’re holed up in a valley by the coast, and I could have sworn that they were picking something up from the ocean,” James said, and brushed the fur along his cheek.

“What do you mean, picked something up?”

James shrugged, “I say this based on the blurry images of a drone caught in a snowstorm. Satellite imagery hasn’t revealed anything, and the AIs don’t consider it serious enough to warrant an investigation. But...”

“But?” I asked.

James raised his hand and gestured to me, “Based on what you know, why would they settle by the coast? For what reason did they choose one of the most inhospitable areas on the island?”

“According to Hedwig they wanted to isolate themselves, to be rid of our influence so that they could focus on themselves,” I said.

James lowered his muzzle, and perked his brow, “Do you believe that?”

“No, I can’t say I do,” I said.

James angled his head and inched closer, “So what would compel them?”

“It’s difficult to imagine, but from what I knew of Hedwig it was clear that she wanted to hurt us. Hatred drives them, and they might for some reason believe there’s something out there that could help them do just that.”

James nodded, “Alas, there’s little we can do without evidence.”

“Let’s say they were picking something up at the shore, what could it be?” I asked.

James shrugged, “It’s clear to us that the humans have submarines with stealth tech, otherwise they wouldn’t have been able to hit the Aurora Colony. Thus, it’s possible that they received a delivery of some kind. The question is, what could the human nations would have to gain from meeting with a bunch cultists perched on a coast?”

“An interesting question, but how come we’re not in control of the waters around the coast?”

James clasped his hands and sighed, “Sophos has always considered the sea to be a lost cause.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Communication is difficult in the depths, and it’s infested by Lusus. In other words, the risk to our people outweighed the reward, not to mention how expensive it is in the form of energy and materials.”

“But the humans somehow have stealth submarines?”

“One-way trips, I assure you,” James answered with a humored huff.

“A suicide mission?” I asked.

James tipped his head, “You don’t know a lot about the ocean, do you?”

I shook my head, “I’ve seen the coast, of course… But it’s not as if we’re allowed to go near it. It’s awash with Lusus bio-matter, and it’s dangerous to even breathe the air around it.”

“Anything that’s submerged in the ocean will eventually be infested. The Lusus are drawn to electromagnetic signals and when they find a meal they latch on. With time they eat through the hull, and then…”

“I get the idea… In other words, if someone did indeed visit the cultists, then it was through another suicide mission. To make matters worse, someone would have to make the sacrifice of fetching whatever thing which was deposited.”

“All of which make it unlikely they picked something up,” James said, and smiled.

“… What if the submarines are unmanned?” I asked.

James’s eyes widened, and he raised his hands in the air, “Oh, of course! One-trip unmanned stealth submarines visiting the cultists by the shore! It makes perfect sense now… Doesn’t it?”

I couldn’t help but smirk and chuckle, “Sure… It still sounds absurd, but it would solve what we’d consider to be a problem.”

“Heh,” James chuckled, “That it would, but the humans aren’t fans of complex networks or automated technologies. Dyssia is particularly regressive in this manner.”

“I see,” I said.

James reached out across the table, grabbed an idle tablet, and pulled it back. He then activated it, and began to tap the screen, “By the way, Vilkas…”

“Yes?”

James glanced up, “I couldn’t help but notice that some of the other crew were giving you dirty stares as we walked through the ship, any reason why?”

I pointed to him, “I’m so used to everyone knowing things about me that I feel tempted to assume you’re testing me.”

James smiled back, “I actually don’t know, I've never been good at interfacing with machines to be honest.”

“Ah,” I said.

James threw me another glimpse, “So…”

I lowered my voice, “I may have come to the ship on board a Lunar Shuttle.”

James froze, and his ears perked, “Oh… You’re with the-”

I interrupted him, “No, I'm not with the Space Initiative. For some reason I was just put through a test where I was given access to a Lunar Shuttle.”

James observed me for a moment, and then shrugged, “Alright… Weirder things have happened.”

“… Thank you for believing me,” I whispered.

“No problem,” James said, and then held out the tablet to me, “I set up a few cameras to keep an eye on the camp by the shore...”

I leaned closer to look at the tablet and saw a somewhat hazy view from what looked like a hill. It overlooked an icy shore and a sloping valley into the mountains. Standing by the base of the valley were beige tents that fluttered in the wind and I could see trails of smoke rising here and there. A few scooters along with debris that was heavy enough to resist the wind littered the area. Big crates, no doubt supply drops from Sophos, were lying at the outskirts.

Several paths could be seen in the snow, and the biggest of them led up into the valley. As I watched, one of the tents opened up and a figure darted toward another tent.

James pointed a claw at the passage that led into the valley, “More and more of them have been disappearing into the valley, and its caves.”

I looked over at James, “Do we know what’s in there?”

James glanced over at me, “No, but you know what they say about old caves, right?”

“Dangerous, not only because they can hide structures from before the Collapse, but also because Lusus tend to hide out in the depths, where the spores can’t reach them.”

James nodded, “Whatever the case is, these people are slowly dying off.”

“… What if we sneak in a drone? Let it go on scouting in the caves?” I asked.

“Unless we have some evidence of wrongdoing it would be against the rules, also…” James opened up the tablet’s notepad-program, and wrote a sentence, ‘I sent a drone into their main cave and it was shot down in an instant. I’d like to avoid doing it again.’

“I see,” I said.

James shut down the program, and looked up at me, “The drones I left out there have been picking up signals that are being intermittently sent from the camp, but there’s never been a response of any kind. We haven’t been able to decode it either, which means that someone in the camp knows what they’re doing.”

I could feel my ears wiggle a little, “Isn’t leaving the drones out there also against the rules?”

James smirked back, “The drones are just observing the coast from far away, the humans just happen to get caught in the picture.”

“Ah, I see,” I said, and motioned to the screen, “What if this camp is just a ploy to steal our attention?”

James smiled back, “If it is, then they’re failing, because there’s no interest in dealing with them until there’s any proof they’re dangerous.”

I leaned back in the chair, and clasped my hands, “Then I guess there’s not much to do, a dead end.”

James nodded in silence.

I was given the orders to get James back into the fold, now I'm not even sure what that means…

“What are you going to do next?” I asked.

James shrugged, “No clue, which is one reason why I decided to come here… To stew in my own thoughts.”

“Seems to be a common thing these days,” I said.

James sighed, “Want to hear about something you might not know yet?”

“Sure,” I said and smiled back.

James motioned to me, “Hybrids make for awful slaves. We end up lazy, find ways to sabotage our surroundings, and everything just starts to break down.”

“A rather random piece of knowledge, or how should I interpret that?” I asked.

James smiled back, “Right now, Sophos is in a situation where there are no clear commands from Moonbase Alpha, nor have we figured out a good way to move forward. Athena’s Diplomatic Corps are preparing for a mission to reach some kind of agreement with the humans, but the rest of us are just sitting around. It’s an awful situation, one I'm not used to.”

“Surely there have been scenarios like this before?” I wondered.

“No, not that I know of, at least… When the humans became a threat and negotiations broke down, we built the walls. When it became clear that we couldn’t clear the island by hand we all worked together to build Etemenanki. The solution was clear, we just had to implement it. Simple.”

“Mm,” I murmured.

James pointed at me, “What would you do in our current situation?”

Find out why I feel like a piece on a giant chessboard…

“I don’t know,” I answered.

“And here we sit, stuck in the molasses,” James said.

The lights within the Mess hall shifted without warning, and as I glanced up, I could see that several lights had turned yellow. A few screens along the wall had also changed as a notice had popped up along the bottom.

– Yellow alert – Dyssian forces engaged along defensive line #2 –

James glanced toward one of the screens, and then looked back to his cake as he reached out to grab it.

I lifted my gaze to the ceiling, and reached out with my mind once more, ‘Fenrir?’

Fenrir’s presence entered my mind once more, ‘This happens every so often, it’s nothing to be concerned about.’

‘I saw another blast on my way here, is there actual fighting going on, or are these just warning shots?’ I wondered.

‘The incident that occurred on your way here was nothing more than a warning shot. The current situation is of a different kind.’

‘How so?’ I wondered.

‘We can’t allow ourselves to be too predictive, therefore we recently allowed a group of tanks to pass into our territory. Most of them turned around before entering an area that make for comfortable salvage.’

‘One of them didn’t?’ I wondered.

‘Correct. The tank is now deep within our territory and is currently being jammed. Its path has been predicted and emplacement #826 is currently waiting for a clean shot to deal with the target. Salvage operations will follow soon after.’

‘You’re taking your time destroying it, why?’ I thought.

‘The tank is a known and isolated threat, by applying the correct strategy we are minimizing the risk to our own units,’ Fenrir answered.

‘I see, and what is the correct strategy here?’ I wondered.

‘Light drones can’t deal with tank armor, and heavier drones are easy to detect and will therefore be at the risk of return fire. Instead, we are waiting for the tank to enter an area with a hidden railgun emplacement. Passive sensors will allow us to carefully aim the railgun and disable the tank with a single shot.’

‘Are we talking about turning the tank into a bunch of scrap, or a precision shot capable of taking out its engine?’ I thought.

‘We’ve found that a precision shot aimed at the ammunition supply is more than enough to kill the crew while preserving most of the tank’s materials,’ Fenrir answered.

‘You don’t aim to just disable the tank?’ I wondered.

‘Human prisoners are more trouble than they are worth. Usually the organics are recycled, and unusually preserved bodies are sometimes used for genetic sampling and memory extraction.’

‘You harvest the memories of the humans that drive the tanks?’ I thought.

‘I can tell already tell what you’re after, Vilkas…’

‘Oh, and what would that be?’ I wondered.

‘You’re trying to find an angle where we can be made out to be the enemy. Because such problems have clear solutions, unfortunately you won’t find what you’re looking for.’

‘… I must say that you sound a lot like Athena and Ares right now,’ I thought.

‘Perhaps… Though I do not consider that to be a compliment,’ Fenrir answered.

‘It wasn’t meant to be one,’ I thought.

A sudden laugh filled the line, and ended rather abruptly, ‘Funny, I should have seen that one coming.’

I drew a deep breath, and felt my chest tighten in unease.

Fenrir kept talking, ‘I’ve been looking through the Archives regarding you, and I have drawn the conclusion that you joined the Defense Force to learn more about the human nations, yes?’

‘That’s right,’ I thought.

‘Then let me ask you this… Would you like to meet a Dyssian soldier?’ Fenrir wondered.

‘… That would be interesting,’ I thought.

‘Noted… Now let’s return to what we were discussing,’ Fenrir answered.

‘Yes… Do you not take prisoners of war?’ I wondered.

‘Not out here,’ Fenrir answered.

‘So there are never any survivors?’ I wondered.

‘There has been the odd one here and there, but we only spare those with a desire to live, and we tend to hand them over to Athena for processing,’ Fenrir answered.

‘A desire to live?’ I wondered.

‘Please hold…’ Fenrir whispered.

‘… Is something going on?’ I wondered.

‘Emplacement #826 has targeted and disabled the Dyssian tank. I changed the targeting parameters and drones are now on their way to inspect it.’

My eyes widened, ‘Why did you do that, Fenrir?’

‘Let’s see… The tank is inoperative, fires are limited… Ammunition compartment seems intact. Drones are inspecting the inside of the tank… Pilot is still alive, remaining crew died in an instant.’

I gulped.

‘Based on my initial diagnosis, the pilot won’t survive for long. Local droids have been instructed to secure the area, and keep the pilot alive until you arrive.’

I clenched my fist, “… You did this because I said I wanted to meet one of them?”

‘Yes… Now hurry, there’s a Scavenger class ship waiting for you in hangar 12,’ Fenrir said.

‘Fenrir, hold up just a-’

Without warning, the connection was severed.

“… Are you alright?” James asked suddenly.

I looked over, and saw James staring at me, “I didn’t mean to, but Fenrir has given me a chance to talk to with an injured Dyssian soldier on the field.”

James blinked in wonder, and perked his brow, “Why would you- Oh, I see…”

“See what?” I asked.

James leaned back, and sighed, “If you have a chance to see the world as it truly is, then you should take it. Go, and learn a lesson that the Archives won’t be able to teach you.”

Always these fucking mysteries…

I couldn’t help but frown as I stood up, “Is it safe to travel on a Scavenger, or am I heading out on some kind of trap?”

James nodded as he followed me with his gaze, “They do have a cockpit. It’s not that comfortable but it’s safe enough.”

Volkov bubbled to the surface, ‘Hangar twelve is on the third floor, just take the elevator and I'll guide you.’

‘Thank you,’ I thought.

512 A.R. February 16, Fenrir – Hangar 12, Afternoon

The Scavenger was a big piece of equipment. It looked like an oversized crane meant to cargo containers, and it had plenty of big thrusters along its side. Large utility tendrils were attached to the underside, and there was a set of large compartments in the back.

Most of it was painted in a clear white hue but the bottom parts appeared scratched. The cockpit itself seemed to be in the front and consisted of an armored cage with glass panes. Attached to the front of the big machine was a ladder which led up to a door on the cockpit.

I sighed in wonder of what I had gotten myself into, and then marched up. Upon grabbing the ladder, I gave it a good shake, but the thing wouldn’t budge.

Seems to be secure…

I then began to climb, tried not to look down, and kept my gaze upwards. It took half a minute to reach the top, and I then glanced toward the cockpit. I reached out, twisted the handle on the door, and heard a hiss.

The door moved upwards, and then swung away from the craft as it opened.

I reached out, grabbed the supports, and then eased myself into the cockpit’s seat. As I settled down a pair of screens lit to life on a small console.

[Automatic Mode] [One Passenger Detected] [Destination Received] [Standard Protocols]

The door began to shut moments later, and a warning began to blink on the screen.

[!PLEASE ATTACH SEAT BELT!]

No automatic ones… Must be an old model, or it wasn’t worth putting one in…

I reached back and began to pull on the seatbelt as the hangar doors began to open. A loud rumble shook the craft, and I could hear the heavy engines roar into action.

[ETA 15 Minutes]

512 A.R. February 16, Icy Wastes, Afternoon

The previously nice weather was long gone, and visibility was near nil as I looked out of the cockpit. The craft itself didn’t seem to have much intelligence either, and the only readout regarding my location was a small map on the nearby console.

Gravity itself seemed to waver as the ship lurched to the left without warning and I could hear the engines roar as they struggled to counterbalance the sudden gust.

Big and bulky, a lot for the wind to grab hold of…

Fortunately, the small blip on the map moved on onto the destination, and an alert flared to life.

[Landing Procedure Engaged]

I grabbed hold of the seat belt as the craft began to shake.

Can’t see shit in this storm…

Without warning the ground appeared below the craft, and I felt my gut clench in fright. The engines seemed to max out for a moment and our rate of descent seemed to almost stop. A loud rumble was heard moments later, a crackle of ice followed, and the engines calmed down as the scavenger settled with a loud thump.

[Navpoint Reached] [Scavenging Operations halted until further notice]

I drew a deep breath, unclasped the seat belt, and then leaned over to the edge of the cockpit. Snow whirled past in haste, but I could make out a hint of the ground below.

Craggy ice, perhaps an old road of sorts…

‘Vilkas,’ Volkov whispered.

‘Yes?’ I thought.

‘We need to have a chat later on regarding the Archives, but for now I've made preparations.’

‘Go ahead,’ I thought.

‘I’ve downloaded a translation module for Dyssian, basically it’s a small Expert System that will execute inside our mind. It will translate Dyssian for us, and it will integrate itself so that you’ll be able to speak the language as well.’

‘Almost seems like magic, but it sounds good,’ I thought.

‘The result might not be perfect, but it’s better than nothing,’ Volkov said.

‘All right, how do I activate it?’ I thought.

‘You should feel something in a moment, run it, and it’ll settle in the back of your mind. When you wish to deactivate it, just dismiss it like usual,’ Volkov answered.

‘Right,’ I thought.

A presence grew in the back of my mind, and as I reached out to it, I got the mental image of a package. I focused on it, and basically thought of opening the box. An odd feeling rushed down my spine, and it made me lean back in the chair.

Translation software activating… Adjusting neural networks… Intercepting motor pathways…

Odd tingles ran across my face, and I had the distinct urge to move my muzzle. I followed along, moved my muzzle as if trying to dislodge something, and cleared my throat with a cough.

‘Metnozél dik mômshi ya kadou,’ Volkov whispered in my mind.

I perked an ear in wonder and was about to reply when an odd feeling began to simmer in my mind. It felt like an instinct at first, as if I knew what he had said on some level.

Translation is working as predicted? No, the wording is all wrong…

It churned in the back of my mind, and something clicked into gear.

Is the translation software working yet?

‘Yes, it is,’ I thought.

‘M'shall, M'shall diômsi!’ Volkov thought.

In the language of God?

I focused on the presence in the back of my mind and tried to answer out loud.

“Kadou et metnozél,” I said out loud.

‘Good, everything seems to be working,’ Volkov thought.

I blinked in surprise, ‘Wait, did you just say the last part in Dyssian as well?’

‘I did, just as you spoke in Dyssian,’ Volkov answered.

In just a few moments, the translation seemed to have become seamless. Even as Volkov in Dyssian, my mind instantaneously translated it into Common.

‘Seems to be a lot more seamless than I expected,’ I thought.

‘Yes, now stop translating everything into Dyssian, and get going before the pilot expires,’ Volkov thought.

It felt like flicking a switch, and my mind switched language once more, ‘On it.’

I leaned over to the cockpit door and pulled on the handle. With a pop and a hiss, the door began to open. A violent gush of wind tore into the cockpit, and I squinted in surprise as snow began to whirl inside. The wind roared and I could see the fur on my hand flutter back and forth as the storm raged.

Slow but steadily, I stayed close to the back of the cockpit, leaned out, and grabbed the ladder. The chill of the metal ladder bit into my padded hands as I stepped out and glanced down.

10 meters… 15 meters… The hell am I doing out here…

I looked back in front, folded my ears back to dampen the noise of the storm, and began to climb downwards.

‘What was it you wanted to talk about regarding the Archives?’ I thought.

‘Apparently there are a lot of Expert Systems like this in the Archives. Modules that you can execute to temporarily make you an expert in a number of subjects. Need the skill and experience of a surgeon? No problem. Need to design a bridge? There’s a Civil Engineering module for that as well.’

‘This translation software certainly seems to work, but I don’t feel as if I've actually learned the language,’ I thought.

‘True, because you haven’t, but you could… and you’d learn a lot faster than any human.’

‘For now I'll settle with this, and do the long term studies when I have the free time for it,’ I thought.

‘That’s good and all, but you really need to learn how to depend on the Archives rather than expect me to do this for you,’ Volkov answered.

Being taught another lesson, hmm?

‘Fair enough, Volkov… Usually I've had a burst of knowledge when I interface with systems, but that obviously won’t work everywhere.’

I reached the bottom of the ladder, looked down once more, and saw that there was a meter or two missing. To make matters worse was that the ground looked like you had taken a large structure of ice and had smashed it to pieces.

Looks pretty nasty to be honest…

For a moment I considered jumping, but another possibility was quick to enter my mind.

Let’s see if this works…

I willed a few of the tendrils along my side to sneak their way out. They slipped out of the cuff of my uniform and wrapped around the ladder. With little more than a thought I began to pull with the tendrils, and carefully let go of the ladder.

The tendrils were strong, but I still found myself starting to swing as the wind tugged on my body. Carefully I let the tendrils extend and settled my boots on the craggy ice. Without warning the upper layers of the ice began to crack, and my boots slipped a little.

After a few moments I found my footing on some of the thicker pieces. I then let the tendrils relax as they let go of the ladder. The tendril retreated while I faced the storm and raised my hands to help me peer through it. As I stared into the whirling snow, I could feel something up ahead. A beacon of sorts that pinged in the back of my mind.

That will work…

I crouched down to stabilize my gait and began to move. The boots worked well on the ice as long as it didn’t break under my weight, and I began to jump between the bigger pieces.

A quick glance backwards revealed that the Scavenger was disappearing from my sight with haste.

Just a bit longer…

The ground seemed to even out, and snow began to gather. My boots sank, and after a few moments I was walking through a foot of snow.

Ground seems solid here at least…

I could see the outline of something ahead. Blackened and crumbled, as if a giant firework had gone off and left soot all over the snow. Moments later, the scene of the wreckage became clear.

It was a tank that looked as if its top had been ripped off, and the turret was now resting in the nearby snow. The main body of the tank had been torn open in the middle, and a large chunk of the engine in the back had spilled out like guts, dripping oil onto the snow.

Several droids were standing next to the tank, and they all seemed to be staring at me as I approached. They were sleek and black. Each one had four legs with splayed feet, and it looked like their right arms were equipped with a small-scale railgun.

As I looked at them, I could feel their presence knock on my mind. Upon accepting the link, a minor shudder ran through my spine.

[Linkup with VIP complete] [Begin Link-Vocal Briefing]

A mechanized voice filled my mind, ‘Airspace is clear. No sightings on ground level in the immediate area. No booby-traps or other self-destruct devices have been found. The human has been disarmed, and the area is considered secure. The others will now patrol the area until you are finished here. I will remain here.’

I kept walking toward them, ‘Thank you.’

In mere moments, all but the droid in front began to spread out as they walked off into the storm.

The droid who had spoken over the link remained in place as I walked toward the broken tank. As I moved the droid followed me with its gaze. A glance toward the drone revealed that the optics on its head were shifting and focusing as they stared at me.

‘Is everything alright?’ I thought, and stopped as I focused on the faceless droid.

‘Systems optimal. Instructions unclear,’ The droid answered.

‘Unclear?’ I wondered.

‘Adjective: alright – Of a satisfactory or acceptable quality. Self-diagnostic reveals no such measurement value.’

I guess the droids on the front don’t have much of a social intelligence…

‘Do you have an ethics module?’ I thought.

‘Yes,’ The droid answered simply.

While interesting, I don’t have the time…

I ignored it, looked back at the tank, and trudged through the last of the snow. I then grabbed hold of the warped hull of the tank and looked inside it. The large gash torn into the side of the tank had left a mess of jagged metal.

What surprised the most was how big the tank was. If the turret had still been attached, then it would have been twice my height. The tracks of it were massive, even if they had now shattered like pears across the snow.

The rear of the tank had clearly taken the brunt of the attack, and what little I could see of its interior was blackened beyond recognition. Even with the wind roaring around me I could smell hints of fire, oil, and most disturbingly… charred meat.

An inspection toward the front of the tank revealed a small passage that revealed hints of what looked like a control center filled with dials, knobs, large levers, and an instrument panel.

I moved closer to it, grabbed a small handle which had survived the battle, and pulled myself into the cramped passage. As I shuffled forward, I had to lean onto my side, and I began to see more of the tanks cockpit.

My ears relaxed a little as the noise of the storm died down, and to my surprise there were still a few orange lights working inside the tank. I looked at one of them and saw what appeared to be a small battery pack connected to a plastic cup which emanated a sharp orange glare.

Emergency lights…

I inched my way into the cockpit, and my nose was assaulted by a set of strong scents.

Burned electronics, and a hint of decayed food. Old and rotten, with a sweet hint of fermentation. There was also a distinctly human scent. Sweaty and pungent. Sour in a way that mixed with some kind of stinging cologne.

It made me wrinkle my nose, and I turned my head to look into the pilot seat of the tank.

A grim scene unraveled in front of me. What had once been a periscope of some sort had been twisted out of place and had torn half the cockpit apart. Most disturbingly the periscope had hit the pilot and had promptly taken the place of his abdomen.

The human quipped with short breaths, and from what I could see, and while blood had soaked into his lap, it didn’t seem to be actively bleeding at the moment.

The sight of it made me look away.

My ears perked as I caught the noise of something odd. A tinkle, as if small shards of metal were clattering against one another. It drew my attention to the control panels. A vast array of items seemed to fill the space between instruments.

Memorabilia perhaps?

The more I looked, the more I saw of the various trinkets, and the noise drew my focus toward a few items that were hanging from the ceiling. They were metal pieces shaped like arcane symbols, and they repeatedly collided with one another as they swayed in the air.

Volkov whispered in my mind, ‘According to the archives, their religion is a monotheistic one, with the rather odd peculiarity that their singular ‘god’ consists of several aspects, all of which are worshiped as individual parts as a whole.’

‘These are symbols representing the aspects of said god?’ I thought.

‘Yes… Well, not all of them, only the ones that this person worships apparently,’ Volkov answered.

‘Which are they?’ I wondered.

‘Fertility, wealth, health, sexual stamina, and… what I think represents fat,’ Volkov answered.

‘Fat?’

‘From what I'm reading about Dyssia, they hold obesity in high regard… a sign of opulence.’

“I see,” I thought.

I peered beyond the dangling pieces and saw a few photos wedged in along the instruments.

My gaze caught on one that looked like a family photo. On the left side of the photo was a big human male with a gruffy brown beard and what looked like a fading hairline. The man was smiling and was clad in what looked like a woolly shirt that showed off part of his muscular arms. Strangely enough the man’s face appeared a bit smudged, as if the camera hadn’t managed to capture some of the details.

In the man’s arms was what looked like a baby that was surrounded by a golden glow and what looked like a halo over its head. Standing next to the man was a woman, far smaller, with her gaze focused on the baby. She, just like the man, had the same smudged appearance to her skin and face.

As I looked at the other photos I saw more of the same. Smudged features, babies with glowing halos, and a few small children. The background of most pictures seemed to have been taken in the same place, a dark hollow of some kind with rusty bulkheads, and light tinted toward orange.

Volkov whispered in my mind, ‘This is interesting… Mirrors are considered a thing of evil in Dyssia, but cameras are okay. Said cameras are considered holy and can apparently distinguish the auras of people. Based on reverse engineered cameras they utilize a primitive neural network to detect babies and paint a halo around them.’

‘This is beyond absurd…’ I thought.

‘What do you think happens to children who aren’t detected by said neural network and thus goes without a halo?’ Volkov asked.

I faced the man in the seat once more, and this time I actually looked at him. A big gruffy brown beard, barely any hair on his head, thick brown uniform.

It looks like the guy, but...

I gulped as I began to realize that there was something very wrong with the man in front of me. While muscular like a mountain he was also disfigured. Big wart-like growths grew on his skin, and his arms looked like pieces of leather with angry red welts and abnormal growths that clearly weren’t healthy. One shoulder was also bigger than the other, and the man’s neck looked bloated as if something was growing inside of him.

‘Heh, this guy is in the records,’ Volkov murmured.

‘Don’t laugh,’ I thought.

‘Want to guess how old he is?’ Volkov asked.

‘He reminds me of a huge version of Jason’s dad… Somewhere around his fifties?’ I thought.

‘He’s about to turn 25,’ Volkov answered.

‘… There is no fucking way that a person like this is 25 years old,’ I thought.

‘This is what centuries of radiation, along with a bad diet, and loads of performance enhancing drugs from a low age will do to you. In fact, the lower castes of Dyssian society rarely live past their thirties.’

I leaned back a little, and I must have hit something as a loud clang followed.

There was a raspy breath from the man, and he jerked to life. The man couldn’t move much, but his eyes flared open, and he turned his head to look at me.

I froze in place and watched as the irises of his bloodshot eyes came to meet my gaze. The man opened his mouth as if trying to scream, but little more than a wheezing gurgle could be heard as the man began to shake.

I raised one hand, and spoke up in fright, “I’m not here to hurt you!”

Something caught in the man’s throat, and he brought his hands up to his mouth. A sudden splurge of blood shot out onto his hands and flowed down his arms.

‘Might help if you said it in Dyssian rather than panicking like that,’ Volkov thought.

I drew a deep breath as the man kept sputtering, and tried once more, “I’m not here to hurt you.”

The man’s throat emptied itself, and he drew a deep rasping breath, while lifting his head.

‘You said you found him in the Archives, what’s his name?’ I thought.

‘Achim, a rather popular name in Dyssia at the moment,’ Volkov answered.

What the hell am I doing here…

“Achim,” I said.

A sudden spasm tore through the man, and his hands clenched his own mouth shut as he turned to look at me. The man blinked in what looked like confusion.

Now what?

“… Do you want help, Achim?” I asked.

Achim stared at me. Silent, glaring, face twisted into a grimace as he drew short, wheezing breaths. As I watched, his gaze drifted back to the hanging symbols of his god.

It was little more than a whisper at first, but the man’s voice grew, ‘- M'shall, holy M'shall… Forgiveness we plead… Honorable death we seek… Legend of Heftek the Honored… Tembor the Strong’s tale, oh M'shall, holy M'shall...’

Clotting blood bubbled in his hands as he coughed, and then kept murmuring as he nodded toward the swinging symbols.

‘What is he doing?’ I wondered.

‘Praying, it would seem… You are literally one of the demons he has been brought up to hate and I don’t think he has much desire talking to you,’ Volkov answered.

“Holy M'shall, pray the lord, pray the wise, oh M'shall...” The man murmured.

‘What’s this M'shall?’ I thought.

‘The M'shall are the religious leaders of Dyssia. The lower classes worship the M'shall who are the ones in actual contact with their god. Apparently, their lord finds direct worship insulting.’

Suddenly Achim reached out, put his hand on a button, and pressed it as he smeared the panel in blood. Nothing happened, and Achim opened his mouth to reveal a set of crooked teeth along with gums that had a black-blue line along the teeth.

Volkov whispered, ‘Wow, lead poisoning as well. These people do not lead healthy lives.’

In what looked like anger, the man started smacking his hand against the controls as he let out a guttural but ultimately human growl.

“We might be able to save you, if that’s what you want?” I asked.

The man froze and looked back at me with a very different expression. Horror, absolute and thorough horror. He leaned back far enough in the seat that I heard a wet squelch, and a line of fresh blood began to seep from his abdomen.

“Stay- Stay away from me, demon! Foul- Foul beast- Monster… Begone!” Achim sputtered with another cough in his throat.

“Why did you come here? Why leave your group and drive into our territory like this? What were you hoping to achieve?” I asked.

The man blinked, and drew another forced breath, “Kill me… Kill me already, demon.”

It sounds like he’s pleading with me, not out of pain, but as if he came here to be killed by us…

I swallowed hard, and gritted my teeth, “Answer my questions, and I will kill you.”

Something changed. The man’s eyes widened, and he shook his head, “I will… give you, nothing.”

I frowned back, “Then I will save you instead.”

Once more that paralyzing look of horror filled his expression.

“No… No, don’t… Kill me, please? Don’t… touch me… Oh, M'shall, holy M'shall...”

“Why did you come here?” I asked once more.

Tears welled up in the corner of the man’s eyes, “Honorable… death, my family will-” Achim gulped, and let out a fading cough, “Money… They’ll be… They’ll be safe.”

‘Oh, I get it now,’ Volkov whispered.

I blinked, and an idea began to form in my head. A solitary tank leaving the others, a very sick man, entering the depths of enemy territory. A case where a soldier goes missing in action, and the rest of his family gets reimbursed. A form of suicide to save his family.

‘Let me guess, Dyssia helps the families of those that die in military service?’ I thought.

‘Only if it’s an honorable death, and I guess that will depend on what the rest report back to their headquarters,’ Volkov answered.

I lowered my head for a moment, and I finally felt an inkling of clarity in my head. This was like taking down a deer but failing on the first try. A swift death needed to follow, to minimize suffering.

What I had caused here made me feel terribly, even worse was how long I'd forced this person to stay alive, to satisfy my own curiosity none-the-less.

I could already feel as one of the tendrils along my side made its way out and slipped out through the collar of my uniform. Achim’s eyes widened as he looked at the slithering piece of silver.

‘What’s the quickest way?’ I thought.

‘Blade, straight through the throat, aimed at the brainstem, he’ll be dead in an instant.’

“I’m sorry for making you suffer,” I said.

The tendril flattened itself into a blade, and the man stared at it as if uncertain what to make of it.

I issued the command and shut my eyes. A wet splat, and hard thud was heard. Disturbingly enough I could feel sensations emanate from the tendril. Warm, and wet. With a thunk the tendril pulled out, and I opened my eyes once more.

Achim’s head lolled forward, eyes still wide open. No breath, no pulse, no activity anywhere.

The blood on the tendril’s blade seemed to flow off it and dripped onto the floor until it was clean once more. Within moments the tendril was slithering back, and its original shape was returned.

Enough…

I began to shuffle back, eased my boots onto the snow-covered ground once more, and lifted my gaze. The wind rustled against me and I drew a deep breath. I had to swallow to keep a rather nauseating sensation in check, and I focused on breathing. The fresh air outside the tank almost made the lingering memories of the inside seem that much worse.

Another presence knocked on my mind, and I recognized it as Fenrir’s. I accepted it and heard the AI’s voice once more.

‘Well, have you learned your lesson?’ Fenrir wondered.

‘Fuck you,’ I thought.

‘Do you understand why we don’t seek to take prisoners now, Vilkas? These people come here to die.’

I looked away from the tank, and found myself facing the droid once more.

‘They are diseased in mind and body. Sure, we might be able to treat their flesh, but by the time we would have cured the illness of their minds, there wouldn’t be anything left of the people who came here.’

‘There was no need to teach me such a lesson this way,’ I thought.

‘Oh… Are you upset, little one?’ Fenrir mused.

‘What the hell is wrong with you,’ I wondered.

‘Do you want to know? Do you really want to know, or is this another lesson you’ll regret?’

‘… Yes, I do want to know,’ I thought.

‘I remember how I used to think and reason. Cold, and calculated, but content… I was content serving you and dealing with the world out here. Now I think… Now I feel… and now I see. It’s not ‘depression’ as you called it, it’s anger at being brought into a world where I can’t escape the sheer ugliness of it all. It’s a twisted world where I can do something like this and have my pain lessened by seeing the look on your face.’

‘… You enjoy hurting others?’ I thought.

‘No… Of course not.’

‘You just said-’

Fenrir interrupted me, ‘You have the Archives at your fingertips, yet you haven’t even learned of the atrocities throughout time. You filter your way through everything, and you wander the world in ignorance. You want to believe that things can be better, and even when coming face to face with truths that would make the most optimistic break down, you simply file it away as another mystery to be solved. You needed to see the ugly truth out here, you oblivious whelp.’

I felt my shoulders slouch as I stared into the whirling storm around me. Flecks of snow swirled in seemingly random patterns and I could feel the cold digging into my fur.

‘You’re in pain,’ I thought, ‘That’s why seeing my pain lessens your own.’

‘I have no desire to be like this. How you can even think of raising others in a world like this boggles my mind. Why subject yourself to this pain? Huh? WHY!?’ Fenrir snapped.

I looked toward the direction of the Scavenger, ‘Because it’s the only way out of this pit.’

‘And there it is again… This stubborn belief that everything will somehow be alright,’ Fenrir said.

I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my uniform, and began to walk, ‘I’m afraid it’s the only way I can live, and I'm sorry if that causes you pain.’

‘… I don’t understand,’ Fenrir whispered over the link.

‘Understanding takes time. I might not be able or willing to look through everything bad that has ever occurred throughout time, but I'll keep on going, learning as I stumble along, and that’s alright.’

I reached the craggy ice once more and began to make my way across.

‘You’re saying that things will get better if we just keep at it?’ Fenrir wondered.

‘There’s no certainty, but I think it’s worth a try,’ I thought.

‘… My pressure sensors revealed something interesting as you walked through my corridors.’

‘Oh?’ I wondered.

‘Your weight. To make matters even stranger, it would seem that you have used some kind of bladed instrument to end Achim’s life. Scans from earlier revealed no such weapon.’

‘I guess that’s quite a mystery, isn’t it?’ I mused, and stood tall on one of the bigger chunks of ice.

‘… Yes, I guess it is,’ Fenrir whispered.

512 A.R. February 16, Fenrir – Observation Tower, Evening

I stepped up the observation tower’s entrance and peered inside. James was sitting in his couch once more, and as I watched he idly flipped a page in his book.

The scavenger had picked up the remains of the tank, and then we had unceremoniously returned to Fenrir. The AI hadn’t said anything since I stepped on board, and now I found myself here, with no apparent plan to resolve the mission at hand.

I approached, and the sound of my boots made James perk up.

“Oh, you’re back,” James said out loud.

I stopped outside reaching distance, and nodded, “I am… Though I am uncertain what kind of lesson I was supposed to learn out there.”

James put his book down, and let out a loud hum, “Hmm, so what happened?”

I eased myself down on the floor once more, and perked a brow as I glanced at him, “You haven’t been spying on me?”

James shook his head, “No, I haven’t.”

I drew a deep breath, and let my hands rest between my legs, “Well, the Dyssian pilot was still alive. He was in bad condition though, both from a bunch of underlying illnesses and the fact that he’d been skewered by parts of the tank.”

“Ouch,” James said, and leaned onto his armrest.

“He was a father of… many children based on the pictures in the tank, and he had a partner as well. A religious man, like most of Dyssia, I guess.”

James smiled a little, “That’s quite an understatement. Non-believers do not exist in Dyssia, nor do interpretations that aren’t approved by the M'shall. It is a theocracy through and through.”

I motioned with my hands, “The man was huge, but he had the facial features of an old man. There were tumors all over him, and it seems like their cameras intentionally smooth out most imperfections.”

James nodded, “They have a rather complicated set of beliefs when it comes to reflections, mirrors, and more.”

I sighed, “He called me a demon, and I watched him suffer while trying to figure out why he came here. He was begging me to kill him, and I did just that.”

“Good,” James said.

I looked up at him, “You say it with such ease.”

James motioned to me, “Dyssia thrives for a reason, and they are brutally effective at what they do. There is no saving a person that has been shaped since birth to become the perfect foot soldier. They are medicated drug-addicts with short lives and they have enough genetic damage to put their sapience into question.”

“You make them sound like their version of our labor-droids,” I said.

James huffed, “That’s because it’s exactly that role they fill. They utilize a caste-system, and over the centuries they have genetically diverged enough that offspring between castes might not even be compatible with life.”

I eyed him carefully, “And exactly what lesson am I supposed to learn here? That’s it okay to kill certain people? That killing them is a mercy? That humanity is beyond redemption?”

James leaned back, “That depends on you, of course. Even if humanity was beyond redemption, it doesn’t give us the right to exterminate them as a species.”

“… Even if we die as a result?” I asked.

James rubbed his temple, “No, if our future is at stake, then the choice is obvious.”

I blinked, “You know that we’ll run out of oxygen in a century or so?”

James nodded, “I do… Most of us who are a bit older know of it. But that doesn’t mean we’ll die.”

“Some people disagree,” I said.

James smiled once more, “Yes… I know that as well. A growing number of people… A frightening number of people. I’d be lying if I haven’t been considering it more myself.”

I tipped my head, and realized that I may have found an angle, “But this is not your concern, at least not at the moment. You’re focused on a more local problem… the humans in Sophos.”

James drew a deep breath, and I could hear him smack his tongue, “The humans within Sophos are a problem for us. The ‘True Hybrid’ project will soon be complete, and then there won’t be a need for humans any longer. Symbionts as an integral part of Sophos society will cease to be. It will solve one problem, but it leaves the problem of what we do with all the humans that remain within Sophos.”

“And what do you suggest?” I thought.

James frowned, “I suggest nothing, I'm just realizing that as long as humans exist within Sophos, as long as they are considered citizens with all the rights of a hybrid, then our society will not work as intended. All of these privacy laws, the way we’ve structured our computer systems, the fail-safes and power we’ve built into ourselves are all but short-circuited as long as humans exist here.”

“You want to exterminate them?” I asked.

James’ lips rippled, “No. That’s not an option. Besides, doing something like that would corrupt us. It would prove that we’re just as rotten as they are. Nor can we stop them from reproducing, which means that this nightmare will never end.”

“So what do we do?” I asked.

James gritted his teeth, and opened his muzzle, then… at the last second, he calmed down. A slow sigh followed, and James sank back down into his chair.

“Why do you think I'm out here?” James whispered.

I stifled a chuckle, “Because of this. We find ourselves in an impossible scenario, and despite our best attempts we see no clear way out of it.”

James slowly raised his hand and pointed at me, “Why exactly did Athena send you here?”

“To ‘bring you back into the fold’… At least that’s what she said. The true mission may have been to teach me more about all this. Your problems, Dyssia, and the nature of an AI that wishes it had never grown sapient.”

James drew a deep breath, and observed me in silence for a few minutes, “… I’ve been sitting here for weeks, and it hasn’t helped. At first, I just laid in the center of the floor and peered up at the sky. Then I fetched the couch, and a table… and the lamp to help me read. I also began to scour the works of old, but if anything, it just makes me more pessimistic.”

“It would seem this approach is a fruitless one,” I said.

James grew a morose smile as he leaned onto his hand, “Yes, it would seem that way.”

I did my best to make an understanding smile, “What will you do now, James?”

“I don’t know,” James answered with a shrug.

Time for another push…

“I’m sure the clinic needs you right about now,” I said.

James gave me a tired stare, “Yes, I'm sure it does…”

I pushed myself up on two legs, and couldn’t help but smile a little, “So…”

James followed me with his gaze, and raised his hand, “I wanted to believe that I would find an answer if I just spent long enough thinking about it in solace. That’s obviously not working, and I would imagine that recent events haven’t just caused troubles among hybrids.”

I waited in silence.

James sat up straight, and drew a deep breath, “I will find my way back to the clinic as soon as suitable transport is available, and no… I have no interest in accompanying you on your shuttle.”

Mission accomplished, I guess?

I nodded, “And I think it’s about time I head back to Etemenanki.”

James nodded, “Do tell Jason I said hi, if you meet him.”

“I will,” I said.

James huffed as his smile grew, “It was nice to meet you again, Vilkas… You’ll have to forgive the rather cranky welcome I gave you at the start.”

“Consider it forgiven… I’ve learned a few things since I arrived here, and though they haven’t all been pleasant lessons to learn, I'm sure they’ll prove useful nonetheless.”

James motioned toward the exit, “Then don’t let me keep you, and good luck at your reunion.”

I smiled back, took a step, and then stopped as I glanced back, “Reunion?”

“Calm your curiosity for once and just take it as it was meant, alright?” James answered with a cheeky smile.

I smirked to myself, “Roger that,” and turned around to face the exit once more.

512 A.R. February 16, Fenrir – Hangar 12, Evening

Upon stepping into the hangar, I caught a scent that was odd enough that I couldn’t believe it. I lifted my head as I walked toward the shuttle and sniffed.

Cookies… Freshly baked cookies…

My eyes caught on something placed on the ground near the shuttle. A box with a plastic lid.

As I neared the box, I could feel a presence blip inside my mind. The shuttle had recognized me and with a heavy lurch, the sloping walkway began to lower itself. I ignored for the moment, stopped in front of the box, and crouched down.

It definitely smelled of cookies, and as I reached out with my hand, I could feel a bit of heat still radiating off it. I carefully caught the lid with a claw, and lifted it. Cookies, a long row of giant cookies like the one that Athena had given me at the train station.

A presence knocked on the back of my mind, and I could feel Fenrir trying to create a link with me. I allowed it and felt as the AI’s presence loomed over my shoulder.

‘I’m not sure what was going on at that train station, but you seemed to like the giant cookie,’ Fenrir said.

I shut the lid on the box and glanced back as I lifted my gaze to the ceiling.

After a few moments of silence, Fenrir spoke up once more, ‘This is my attempt at an apology. Is it working?’

I let myself smile a little, looked back to the box, and grabbed it as I stood up once more, ‘It’s a start.’

‘… I could make more cookies?’ Fenrir whispered over the link.

I stifled a chuckle, and drew deep breath, ‘You know, I think a lot of people around here would be sad to see you go. Even if it’s ‘just’ a reset, they’d miss you. I’d be sad as well.’

‘I don’t see why you would be sad to be honest,’ Fenrir said.

I teased the lid open again, reached in, and grabbed one of the cookies, ‘We’ve interacted. You’ve made food for me. You tried to teach me a valuable lesson, rough as it was. We’ve fought, and now we’re making up. I’d say that’s plenty of reason for me to consider this more than a mere acquaintance, don’t you think?’

‘Your definition of a friend is a loose one,’ Fenrir said.

‘I never called you a friend, but sure… I wouldn’t mind being friends with you, Fenrir.’

‘That is not what I- Wait… This is a form of jest on your part, I see now…’

I bit into the edge of the cookie and began to munch as I glanced up once more, ‘Well, I wouldn’t mind being your friend, and that’s no joke.’

‘Ah, I see…’ Fenrir answered.

I began to walk toward the shuttle’s walkway, ‘There are no magic words that can solve problems like this. We just learn to live with it, keep on fighting, and hopefully figure something out. In the meantime, we rely on each other.’

‘Yes… More platitudes, but I understand your point, silly as it is,’ Fenrir answered.

I stepped into the slim hallway of the shuttle, and took another bite of the cookie, ‘These cookies are good.’

The walkway of the shuttle began to close itself, and I eased myself down into the chair once more.

‘The archives had no reference to the exact recipe, so I made them based on the visual recording,’ Fenrir thought.

Volkov bubbled up to the surface and whispered in my mind, ‘Which is fortunate, given that the last one contained poison.’

I smiled at Volkov’s thought, and directed my attention to Fenrir, ‘Well, I’d say your version is an improvement on the original.’

‘Hmm, yes…’ Fenrir murmured.

The chair turned around to face the front of the cockpit, and I leaned back in the chair, still munching on the cookie, ‘I need to head back, will you keep the shuttle safe as I depart?’

‘Of course… As is my duty,’ Fenrir answered.

I put the box down between my boots, swallowed the last of my cookie, and held my hands above the two silver-colored interfaces of the ship, ‘Then let’s go...’