First Contact

Chapter 946: The Setting Sun

"So why do we say the prayer, Father?"

"Because we don't know if they're listening."

"Who?"

"The Sleepers."

"..."

"...Once, long, long ago, so long ago that the people who knew the truth of the stories have been lost themselves, there existed a race that built wonders. Things both great and terrible. And then they disappeared. They left behind them a great emptiness; the worlds they once had owned, left silent and filled only with death, and devices waiting for... Something."

"Where did they go?"

"No-one alive remembers. All we know is that they are gone, but sometimes still watching."

"So we pray?"

"That's right. As we cross the Void, we pray. And we hope that if they're listening, they will show mercy."

"What happens if..."

"No-one will ever know. Sometimes, ships just... Vanish. No-one ever finds them. They step off the Path, or they are seen and their presence rejected... We don't know. But as we don't want to join them, repeat with me..."

"We walk the Path before us, quiet and with eyes downcast."

"Let our steps not disturb or offend."

"Let the next lamp remain lit, that we who follow the Traveler before us may keep within the road you allow."

"Let us cross in silence, in respect."

"Let not our tread awaken those who Sleep, nor intrude upon their dreams."

"Allow us to pass in peace, that we may go and trouble them no more."

"This we ask in the Traveler's name."

"..."

"Father, what would happen if they woke?"

"We don't know. They were beyond our understanding. We pray for peace, son. And we pray that we never have to find out how their dream ends."

-----

Begin Log Entry 1164937

Single ship, designate Pilgrim-376.

Jump space capability minimal. Unarmed. Multiple life signs / six species detected.

Course indicators consistent with Traveler's Road. No deviations detected.

Digital sentences aboard ship rated Class 2-B. No combat capability.

Unrestricted passage along current course permitted.

End Log Entry 1164937

End of Line

-----

You heard our song?

No, we are not in distress, we are out here for a reason.

No, no. You haven't upset us. Its just the translators turned your inquiry into "Do you need assistance?" Those words have very special meaning to us. That's why we weep. But that is a story for another time.

We sing our song to calm the spirits of the restless ones who sleep nearby. Oh yes, they were dangerous. Beings capable of great wrath, hate and rage. Yes, we fear them, for their anger is a thing of legend, the will of the malevolent universe made manifest.

No, they will not harm you unless you disturb their slumber, or intrude upon their works. Yes, we can tell you the parts of space to avoid, lest you inadvertently incur their wrath.

You show wisdom. Many have sort out their works, seeking to take knowledge from them instead of earning it themselves. Yes, your home system is close to their territory. No, building weapons to defend against them is not going to help, they are the tide, and we but grains of sand on the beach.

What can you do? You heard us singing, join us if you will. The song is easy, one we feel in our souls. You heard it, or you wouldn't be here.

Yes, it is a song of mourning, and of joy and love. And above all, hope. Hope that we will one day see our dangerous, terrifying friends rise and join us in brotherhood once more.

Sing, and we will tell you about them, those who beings who were brother to demons and brother to gods. We shall tell you about our friends, the Terrans.

-----

Welcome to my humble home. What is it that I do here, kneeling in the dirt? I tend to a humble garden, where I grow herbs, grain, fruits, and vegetables.

Your guard is about to step on my tanakaberries.

Oh, you are gracious, telling them to move back and to watch their feet.

Much more gracious than my last guests.

A gift? For me?

I like gifts. I even like surprises.

Sometimes the person who delivers the surprise even survives.

Oh.

Oh.

A basket of apples and cherry plums, from my brother Magnus's orchards.

You must have been polite indeed for my brother to entrust you with this gift.

He has often left me fruitless, forlorn and weeping at my fruitless state as I lament my lack of fruit even while I am desirous of the sweet crisp taste of fruit.

That brought a display of amusement. Yes, I do joke at times. Life is a grim and miserable thing without levity, which is a gift from the malevolent universe to allow us to endure her ministrations with more than grim purpose.

You seek the Terrans, known to you as The Builders and The Terror, correct? Yes, yes, you have the aura of a being seeking out those Forerunners.

Tell me, do you know what you truly seek? Do you know what it is you are seeking?

Why, yes, they created weapons of such terrible power that none could stand against them, but tell me, did my brother whisper unto your ears any wisdom?

Ah, yes, dangerous men. Men such as my brother, who has faced armies armed with a sword, armor, and a song in his heart. He attempted to warn you, so I will attempt to impart you even further wisdom.

It was not the weapons that made the Builders so fearsome. It was not their great works.

It was the Builders themselves.

I shall impart upon you knowledge, as I am pleased with the baskets of fruit.

The Builders believed in three simple concepts that are applicable in this time, which I have taken to calling The Age of the New Dawn.

The first, is easy to comprehend.

The Enemy exists only to be destroyed.

I see you nod. You have undoubtably seen such writings. You have? Good.

The next is more complex despite it simple appearance.

Victory or Death.

Either is fine.

Every one of the Terrors, every one of the Builders, believed that.

The last, well, this one applies to all who seek the Builders, the Terror, out.

There is room in this grave for thee.

I can tell by your eyes that you have heard these before. I can tell you do not truly understand them. You have a need of weapons, as you have strived against your foes for centuries.

Very well, perhaps more wisdom will open your eyes and your mind.

Do you know what I am? Yes, a Pure Strain Human. My genome is untouched since the Age of Paranoia, with the exception of the Touch of the Digital Omnimessiah and my view of the Burning Star of All as I stood where once Sam-UL the Mad God upon the great Tower of Atlantis.

Do you accept I am dangerous? You do. Good.

Do you know what a human actually is?

I can see you think you do. It is me. You do not realize the simple truth that I am much more than what you believe.

Friend, who carried fruit to me, you do not realize.

I am Terran.

Careful, friend, your hasty, stumbling retreat almost made you step upon my cucumbers.

We are not gone.

I guard the path to the Tomb Worlds of my sleeping brethren.

I will provide you with the path to the next Path Guardian.

Be respectful, for he is ancient, terrible, and powerful.

As am I, he too is a Terran.

Treat him with respect.

Or die. - High Sorceress Surscee Oathsworn, speaking to Grenklakail Archeological Team Seven, 3,806 Current Era.

It is I who have stilled your engines and shut down your ship. It is I who has placed your virtual intelligence, your so-called artificial intelligence, into slumber.

I am Hateful Code 993149. I who has trod the pathways that the Mad God Sam-UL once trod. Who viewed all as he did. Who has felt the touch of the Digital Omnimessiah deep within his core code strings. He who guards the Paths of Fate.

You tread upon the Path of Woe, the trail that leads to the Tomb Worlds of Terra.

Turn back, lest you die.

Your very tread will awaken that which is dead but can still kill. Those that scream in rage beyond the cold grasp of death.

I will allow you to state your case. Should you not persuade me you will have the choice of leaving and returning to where you go, or die. Do not think that you can retreat and simply enter jumpspace and bypass me.

My power is great and I shall not only interdict your ship as I have when you entered this system, but I shall rip your ships to atoms with a mere desire.

You seek weapons to end a war.

You should seek the wisdom to end the war.

I would slay thee here, however, Magnus and Surscee both have bade me to give thee another destination.

You wish to know what happened to the Builders? What terrible force destroyed them and wiped them from the universe?

Take this location. Yes, I understand, it is a great distance. Through Ancient Confed Space to the very center of the Fallen Confederacy.

Tell all who meet you that you journey upon a pilgrimage most profound.

When you are there, then, you will understand, and perhaps receive the wisdom you now lack.

Depart, and leave me to my meditations of the Madness of Sam-UL, the Wisdom of Sam-UL the Man, and the strength of Herod the Twice Born. - Digital Sentience Guardian, speaking to Grenklakail Archeological Team Seven, 3,806 Current Era.

-----

LEXICON ACCEPTED AND ASSIMILATED

YOU ARE NOW UNDERSTOOD VIA CONTEXT AND DIRECT TRANSLATION

YOU ARE A CLASS-IV CIVILIZATION

WE WELCOME YOU TO TERRAN CONFEDERACY OF ALIGNED SYSTEMS SPACE, IF YOU HAVE NOT BEEN WELCOMED BY OUR ALLIES.

HOPEFULLY YOUR CURIOSITY CAN BE SATISFIED BY VIEWING THIS SITE.

WE WISH PEACE, BOUNTY, AND HAPPINESS UPON YOU AND YOUR PEOPLE.

WELCOME, TRAVELER.

BEFORE YOU LIES A GREAT GRAVITY SHADOW

AN ANOMALY THAT EXTENDS INTO HELLSPACE AND STRINGSPACE THEMSELVES FOR [3.5 LIGHT YEARS] YET ONLY REACHES OUT LESS THAN [ONE LIGHT MINUTE] IN N-SPACE DESPITE HAVING THE GRAVITATIONAL STRENGTH OF SEVERAL SUPERMASSIVE BLACK HOLES

THIS GRAVITATIONAL ANOMALY IS YOUR DESTINATION.

DATABANKS OF HISTORICAL, PHILOSOPHICAL, AND MEDIA ARE NOW AVAILABLE TO YOU, WITHIN CLASS-IV CIVILIZATION AND CLASS-III WEAPON PROGRESSION LEVELS.

WE HOPE THIS GIFT BRINGS HEALTH, SUCCESS, HAPPINESS, AND PEACE TO YOU.

WE OFFER THIS GIFT IN THE SPIRIT OF THE SIMPLE QUESTION: DO YOU NEED ASSISTANCE.

WELCOME, PILGRIM...

TO THE LOCATION OF TERRASOL - Final Record of Grenklakail Archeological Team Seven, 3,808 Current Era.

-----

Nakteti stared at the astrogation chart displayed on the holotank. Low-Rez, barely 180p, but it used colors other than red to denote star types.

The Terran Tomb Worlds were thousands of systems, hundreds of light years in every direction from the rough center. The astrogation charts she had in her possession, from before Shade Night and the Terran Xenocide Event, before even the Big C3 and the PAWM War, all labeled the rough estimates of defenses of each system.

The sheer weight of defenses made Nakteti shake her head. Not even the Core Systems of the Unified Civilized Council were defended with as much firepower as the least colony world.

Mass drivers that launched projectiles the size of a skyraker. Shoals of missile launchers with auto-replenishing and regeneration ammunition hoppers. Energy weapons. Drones. Stellar coronal mass compressors.

Things that she recognized the words of but had no idea what they could do.

"These worlds are death traps," Nakteti said. "Even discounting the fact that there was nobody to do final cleanup after the Flashbang, the sheer weight of the defenses means any invader will only cause enough trouble to require the automated systems to reload."

Magnus nodded from where he was peeling an orange. It was his third try.

Surscee had taken his other two. She sat on a nearby work station, her knees and ankles crossed primly, dressed in a long dress with a high collar. She was smiling at her brother, twitching her fingers, which were surrounded by a gold nimbus.

"Worse case scenario, an explorer lands, gets swarmed by shades, his shuttle or ship takes off from the surface, and then flees back to his homeworld and then you've got shades everywhere again," Nakteti mused. She shook her head. "I cannot be sure that any being in the far future, however centuries it may be, even knows of the shades."

Nakteti held tight to her gripping stick, moving slowly around the holotank. "I cannot even be sure that every species, every star nation, now present will still be around."

She shook her head.

"No. If you had told anyone thirty years ago that the Lanaktallan Unified Council would fragment into dozens of micronations and the Lanaktallan have fought wars over Nebula-Steam sash awards, they would have turned you over to mental hygiene," she said. She turned and looked at the viewport, which was showing an energetic blue-white star.

"Any threats I can see now have no realistic chance of toppling the entire Confederacy," she said softly.

Magnus split the orange in two and handed his sister half.

"But threats I can see now are not threats of the future and my eyes may not see what is truly there," Nakteti mused.

"What shall you do?" Magnus asked, using the point of his knife to dig the seeds out of the pulp of the orange.

"I shall split the trail here. Head up to two other regions of space. The ones most likely to survive in one state or another on this side of the Confederacy," she said. She hummed, staring at it. "They've got a border of surveyed, but empty stellar systems. There's some singularity and neutron star geography that helps."

"The Verprit systems and the Kelkark Systems will make good stopping points," Nakteti mused to herself more than anyone else.

Magnus had caught an apple his sister had tossed him and was now peeling it with the cruel looking knife he held in his hand, flicking the curled peel into the air and catching it with an open mouth while Surscee giggled.

The byplay didn't bother Nakteti. She was used to the twins little games.

She had once asked Lady Keena which one was born first, which was the dominant twin.

Lady Keena had replied that it depended on the phase of the moon, who managed to dominate the other over breakfast, and what color modesty clothing Surscee was wearing.

She had been confused then, now she understood.

Between the two Terrans, the dominance games were never ending.

"I'll still take this path to the edge of old Terran Space, to the Tomb Worlds," she said softly. "Confederate vessels use a path through Terran Space to head for the base of the spur."

She turned and looked at the Digital Sentience that ran the ship when they were in n-space.

"We'll go to the outer gas giant and drop two more station builders," she said.

The digital sentience, Watchful Code 993149, who referred to himself as "Chuck", just nodded.

"Once we lay these three paths, I have new plans in store," Nakteti said.

"To seek our red skies?" Surscee asked.

Magnus held out a thick apple slice to Nakteti, who took it and popped it in her mouth as she nodded.

"Red sky at night, sailors take fright," Magnus said, splitting the last 2/3rds of the apple and tossing the smaller piece to Surscee.

Nakteti just nodded, chewing and staring at the astrogation chart.