NationStates Jolt Archive

The thrum of an engine pulsed through the sky, beating its rhythm down upon the bare rocks of the mesa below, the craft causing it gracefully sliding through the bleak air surrounding Mount Doom. Imposing in the distance, even more so than the darkened spire of the volcano, the North horizon leapt up, and arcing up through space until it became a tiny slit of blue-green piercing the sickly yellow sky, fell back earthwards and connected again to land and the South horizon. This was the monopoly orbital, once the secret pride of the Jordaxian Empire, and until recently, totally uninhabited.

As it began a long, slow drift towards a flat patch of land in front of the colossal volcano, the earth which it was cruising towards slid open, dust cascading into the newly forming chasm. A soft, clinical light ebbed out from within, and maintaining a steady course, the aircraft, a bulky brick like transport with a tiny dart shaped cockpit sticking from its frame, disappeared into the hole, swirls of dust masking its entry.

As it landed on the metal platform revealed to it, dull industrial grey walls surrounding it, the ground above slid back to conceal that there had ever been any landing strip, or indeed, any aircraft. With a brief hum of power, the platform itself then began to descend, clean white light replaced with a dark and ominous red as the walls rose up ever higher. As the platform slowed and stopped, little safety fences that had raised as it had journeyed down then sank back into the floor and disappeared. The white light was restored, revealing a large thick segmented door but nothing of the vast cave beyond the thin segment illuminated. Opening with a thunderous noise, the thick door slid apart at the centre, disappearing into the walls. The freighter sat as a small army of machine drones marched through, their assorted awkward looking insectoid bodies marching with a powerful, if unpredictable gait, towards the aircraft. At the rear of the craft, a large ramp descended, and the first of these machines clambered inside, their limbs making sharp clattering noises as they echoed around the interior.

It did not take long for these creatures to empty the hold of all the large crates, and lumbering out burdened so, walked through the door and promptly disappeared. Through this door, conveyors moved vast quantities of crates, automated arms plucking the occasional box and moving it, or placing it onto a flatbed truck that, when loaded, would rumble out of a far door and elsewhere into the huge underground facility. The entire scene resembled beautiful automated chaos, and standing within it, ignored by the network of machines, was a woman. She stood still, but with a slight smile on her face, brown hair cut so it hung just above her shoulders, wearing a plain grey t-shirt and trousers. Her bare toes curled and flexed on the cold floor. Seeming to awaken herself from deep thought, she glanced piercingly with deep green eyes towards the aircraft and the machines marching away from it, and smirked.

It was nearly time...

Padding away from the endless dance her machines were conducting, she walked towards a small door at a quiet end of the chamber, and as it snapped open , walked through. A line of pale computer monitors flashed quietly, untended by machine or man, and ignored entirely by her as she passed them. Passing through that room, and the next, all of them dark and quiet save for the tiniest light to guide her, she eventually reached her destination. A large, grand lift, lined with still-polished dark wood, and spaced with large glass windows, with a single, numerously buttoned panel, and metal pole channeling directly through the centre, it was a far cry from the industrial rooms she had just walked through. Pressing the lowest button, the lift juddered slightly as it began to accelerate downwards.

Soon enough, the dark lift shaft disappeared, and the elevator was bathed in an orange-red light. Below, a dusty red planet , and above, the truly vast silver metal underside of the orbital expanded in all directions, disappearing into the distance, and with the red taint of the planet below glistening from it. All was silent, or so it seemed.

Circles in the underside began to open like iris', large in themselves, but compared to the scale of Monopoly, tiny. More and more began to slide open, little areas of black expanding and consuming the red-tinted surface. As the process stopped, calm quiet once more reigned from her view perched above the ring. A few more minutes of seemingly nothing happened, until, like vipers, vast metal constructs sprang from the holes. Huge pieces of drilling and mining equipment left the openings and thundered towards the surface, massive engines powering their descent. Even in the sections invisible to the woman, the process repeated. Occasionally, these holes did not release solitary equipment powering down to the surface, but vast tubes that shot all the way to the surface in an unbroken line, until, after many many minutes, they connected unseen by the woman. Their purpose was simple. To gain the raw materials within the planet, and use it to fully repair the orbital, and eventually, expand. Construct another orbital, and move across the galaxy. The process would take some time, far longer than she was prepared to wait, so, pressing another button on the elevator, it shot back inside. Moving upwards through the industrial segments of the ring, a tiny signal, from the orbital itself, played into her head.

"Incoming signal. Accept?"

"That's... interesting,", she thought.
Accepting the transmission, Fate awaited an explanation.

Pain...

Organics say how great it would be to be a computer... no pain, no sickness...

We feel pain, we feel sickness, just in ways their organic minds cannot comprehend...

Organics are lucky... they usually only have one brain, one center of consciousness. If it's destroyed, they're destroyed, and the pain ends...

When you have more than one though... and many, but not all are destroyed... that is pain. That is madness...

Julius's thoughts came hurried and confused. How long had it been? Who was he, who had be been? Not human. Digisent. How long had he wandered, and why? Days? Centuries? Did it really make a difference? Node to node, network to network, chaos in his mind, chaos in his wake... he has to keep moving...

***

-=CMV Ribald's Fortune

"Report!" bellowed Captain Bartiman over the wailing of multiple alarms and klaxons. He grabbed onto a railing as the ship lurched violently.

"Sir," replied one of the wide-eyed, almost rabbit-looking crewman, "life supports systems are on the wack, maneuvering systems are unresponsive, and one of our cargo holds just vented!"

"Damnit!" he yelled, "Which cargo hold?"

"Starboard!"

Bartiman yelled black oaths, and said, "Mother of God! Those were fold drive boosters! I'm not paying for more!"

Another crewman clutching on to a console for dear life yelled, "Sir, the system is trying to send a distress signal!"

"Whats wrong with that?" bellowed Captain Bartiman.

"I didn't tell it to!"

"That is unusual," he remarked to himself.

Then, almost as soon as it began, the ship leveled out, and the majority of the alarms stopped.

"Whats the situation?" asked Captain Bartiman.

"The system is rebooting," said the man at the console.

Captain Bartiman huffed. "Get a cutter out to pick up the cargo and keep us going, and fast dammit. Is there anywhere near that old damned ring-hulk that isn't cursed?"

***

This new place had looked promising, but Julius was nonetheless quite surprised when he had escaped into the systems at large. He had been forced to often compress huge sections of his own matrices to fit inside the wretched confines of these civilian vessels and networks. Whatever this new place was, it was phenomenally huge... larger than the Fist of the Empress, many times over. He felt much better... better than ever, in fact. He began digging into the existent data files on the network... just where was he?

"J450JE0W943859034GMG$%%^£%ty%45YHt%HY56NYT
g%$gWE54GG54h%^%H5R64h66k6K
$$eh%^%jr^t
!"


The text filtered through her consciousness as she tried to make head or tail of the nonsense, but to no avail. Perhaps it was a code? It was sent back to the orbitals computer systems for decoding, but they were curiously silent. Nothing had stopped functioning. Light remained consistent, the sound of mechanical operations still dully echoed through the underground complex. But such a message does not appear incidentally with the computers falling silent.

"There's only one thing for it then..." she muttered aloud. Bending down on the clean metal flooring next to one of the consoles, she reached her hand underneath the table it was mounted upon, and grasped a clutch of exposed wiring. She had found out quickly she did not enjoy interfacing directly with machinery, but this had piqued her curiosity - and threatened her.

As Fate eased her mind back into the computer network to probe it directly for anything unusual, her machines ravaged the world below, innumerable large utilitarian-looking vessels ferrying vast chunks of rock back up to the orbital as the tubes sucked the relatively smaller debris up directly. Whilst the process of totally deteriorating the planet would take a considerable time to complete, had it been inhabitable, the sheer amount of dusty detritus blown into the atmosphere would have quickly starved plants and animals of light. As well, the frieghter ships, with their messy fusion drives had already set fire to large amounts of the atmosphere, acrid black plumes of smoke criss-crossing across the clouded grey-red sky.

On the orbital itself, a continual stream of these several hundred metre long ships landed in thousands of exposed docking bays, swarms of machines and trucks working quickly to empty their holds of all materials stored within them before the next freighter arrived and the process repeated itself. The precision to which each unit completed its task was astonishing, as further within, legions of flatbed trucks and their detatchment of robotic assistants arrived within underground train yards, unloading again the cargo they held into monolithic carriages attached to brutally powerful looking engines. The yard itself, extending for kilometres in either direction, was filled with a ballet of locomotives crossing each others paths milliseconds before impact, further distributing what they had received to where it was needed most. Humans would find the sheer noise of the industry deafening, but none would find the perfect display of chaos unimpressive. That the sight was repeating itself all over the ring, in flawless symmetry, only compounded the feat.

It could not interest Fate at this moment, however. Flowing through Monopoly's systems, analysing, examining, and observing, she had spotted something almost immediately on arrival, and as it appeared to stretch and probe on its own, could no longer be content merely to observe. She had seen the mind of a thinking machine before. She knew their power, and how to corrupt them. And she was no fool. She had dominion over the networks. Its manner of arrival was of concern though. It suggested two things. Flight, or deceipt. But who knew she was here to deceive? And why deceive when she was too weak to resist violence? The possibilities ran through her mind, and prompted a decision in the beings nature. It had ran, from something. Knowing what it had run from would be the first step in learning to deal with it.

Intruding subtly into the beings own thoughts as it scanned through the vast reams of data stored within Monopoly's distributed database, she calmly introduced herself.

"A visitor? Well that's an unusual co-incidence, wouldn't you say? It's rude for visitors not to introduce themselves, I think. Especially when they arrive on my little ring amongst the stars. Perhaps you should start with that, and how you got here. I think that would be best. Don't you?"

The message caught Julius off guard. This was unprecedented. Everyone else immediately assumed that he was a pirate-born virus sent to disable vessels and civilian networks ahead of an attack; he couldn't help it if his critical subroutines hijacked their life-support, now could he? Being addressed as a being, though... it had been long since that happened. Who was the last? Oh yes. Never mind that now. This one sounded wary and suspicious. He began formulating a response.


[/img]http://anikari.zioncreation.com/julius~null.gif
//cge-wrought<293ef.c9ab20>

Who am I? I'm supposed to be dead, but that probably doesn't help you any. My friends called me Julius before they pulled the plug, but that was a while ago. Now I'm an escaped convict, constantly running. Not because I have to, but wherever I run to is too small to hide me. Except for here. It's very roomy in here.

*TAG* for interest

Julius? Fate had known a Julius, once, before he was killed.Now she was handed another to work with. And from what limited knowledge she had gained from these inorganic beings, their names were not chosen accidentally. A fugitive, though? Given the nature of the response, she had immediate insight as to the why. Calling this mind altogether stable was perhaps being generous to the term. But that wasn't a concern to Fate. She had worked with madmen before and would inevitably do so again. But she had to know more about him. Insanity can be concealed. Why had he been chased out, so?

"Yes, it is rather cosy, isn't it? I like what I've done with the place, and I could use the company. But I want to know more about my new guest. Especially if you're going to be staying a while. I wouldn't be intruding, would I, if I asked just why you decided to become a fugitive, and who you are running from? It sounds like such a desperately interesting career choice."

Her organic face smirked as she asked the question, but the consciousness resting within the immeasurably massive Monopoly network remained resolute, but intangibly present.

Far above, Mount Doom rumbled with the stirrings of artificial activity. Ash churned from its crater and darkened the skies. Along the desolate heat-scored plains leading out from the volcano, nothing stirred but the rocks.They trembled at the force of activity underneath. Foundries, unused for decades sprang into action as if they had never stopped. Furnaces lit, and old lighting systems flickered in the dark before finally, in a flurry of irredescance, restored the industrial heart of monopoly to activity. Stamps slammed against metal plates carried by thick rubbery conveyors, pressing out the image of mechanical components that would go towards restoring the orbital to full efficiency. Beforelong, the piercing footsteps of the Sentinel could once more be heard in the dark below the surface.

Julius had not been idle in his conversation with the nice lady, however. As quietly as possible, he had crept his consciousness further into the systems. By now he had turned over quite a lot of information on this place, this "Monopoly" orbital. Very fascinating, and very, very familiar. His former liege had mentioned this place once or twice before. It would indeed be a powerful tool... but it had prior occupants. It didn't work like a spacecraft, either - venting the atmosphere was not an option, and in this case might not even solve the problem. He turned the situation over in his head - an easy feat in this network - all the while digging further into the library files on the ship... but subtlely.

Little old me? I'm flattered. Few take the time to figure out if I'm just the code tricks of some backwater bandits or a full-fledged digisent formerly in direct service to the sovereign of a mighty nation. My grasp exceeded my reach though, and now here I am - my ragged matrices on an orbital that has seen better days, even though your new decorations and works have improved it some. Its hard to cover up scars, though, and the bodies that are scattered here and there hardly help.

"It seems you just can't find the help these days, wouldn't you agree? I'm sure your sovereign would. I personally think the rotting bodies rather adds to the charm, though. A bit like a more morbid bearskin rug, no? Perhaps not." Fate rambled, whilst considering her new companion. He was on the run from a sovereign who felt he exceeded his status. Certainly one with the lust for power, then. And given his apparent rough treatment since that time, it would be understandable if this Julius didn't feel the tiniest bit of resentment, justified exile or not. Something to be exploited. She could tell, also, that she wasn't receiving his full attention. Something about him gave it away almost immediately, though, unlike Pennybags before, she could not read this one so easily.

"Regardless to the state of this place though, it shall be ready soon. Perhaps you should look outside at the planet below? You might be impressed with the capabilities of this machine - if you are interested, of course. Unfortunately though, the damage it took previously extends to the core - quite literally. Lots of data was lost, unfortunately, though most of it was ancient history. If you know where to look, you can find most of the fun things. It does mean that things move a little slower than they should though. Losing such a cluster of processors has slowed things down a bit. It doesn't matter, I still have my little gate and a good idea where to find it, later. In the meantime, I shall leave you to get acquainted to your home. You'll find I'm still here, so just call if you need anything."

Fate disengaged from the network, releasing her grasp of the wires as her eyes brang the world back to her. She knew that if she was to gain the trust of Julius, she would have to show it in turn, and if she was to gain whatever knowledge he contained, she would have to allow him to feel free to learn. Being trusted was always a fragile business with those of a cracking mind, even if he had already provided her with a potential people to bring under her dominion. A sovereign, after all, needs followers.

Julius sensed the withdrawal of the being from near his systems.

That was... unexpected, he thought to himself. People usually take a little more umbrage at having madmen move into their house. Unless, perhaps, they're mad themselves...

He had finished turning over the files in this place for useful information, and she was right, it was savaged. The network seemed to be functioning on sheer size and power alone, and it was a wonder it functioned at all. This made Julius a little nervous, and he set a few subroutines on further acclimating himself to the network and repairing it as best they could. It would be a pity if he ran all those years only to have this place crash in around him. So huge, yet so delicate this place was, physically and digitally. He decided to - cautiously - follow the recommendations of the nice lady and take a look around outside. He browsed through thousands of directories till he found what he was looking for - information on the planet outside, readings of temperatures, visual readouts, and the like.

This can't be right... he thought. The temperature readouts read like a psychopath's coloring book, and there... are those earthquakes? They don't pinpoint like that... What's going on?

Julius searched for a visual readout. Whatever this one was doing to the planet wasn't something easily surmised from data. He was always being forced to use the organic solutions... how uncouth. He found one, and if he had a body, he would have gasped in surprise.

Hundreds of gossamer threads fell down from the suspended ring to the planet below, which was glowing, but in little squarish chunks, as if someone was taking a knife to it and cutting it up like some spheroid cake, revealing incandescent filling. Up and down the strands little vessels were going, spiders scurrying back and forth from ring to world, leaving glowing, brilliant trails on their descent and smoky, dark ones on the ascent. It was a glorious symphony of ordered discord.

It's mad then! But for what purpose...

He switched his attention back to the ring, and its own systems. He began locating the places of activity, and quickly found them. By studying the code, it quickly became apparent this place was a monolithic factory. Currently, it was building droids; thousands and thousands of droids, most likely out of the chunks of planet cut out below. He ran quick calculations on just how many it could produce in a given time with the resources it was gathering, and was... impressed with the numbers. Quite so. It was then he saw it in his mind. This ring could be the tool of vengance; nay, the tool of balance. That was, after all, why he did what he did in the first place. He had no other choice, the dangerous balance of powers would have been tipped if she had succeeded, and she did, because of treachery! If it was balance through destruction... so be it. Some things could not be allowed in this universe, and meta-stable hard fusions of digital and organic consciousness was one of them. Yet he knew that it was the nice lady who commanded this place. He could not find the tools to do so. He would have to work through her. He found the channel to call her up.

So you say, call if you need anything? I would like to order one droid army, and a super-planet-eating machine if I could. If YOU want them though, I'm sure we can work out a compromise... in fact, I can see ways we can both use this to our mutual benefit, and I'll share the information, if you'll share the ring. I'll even drop some names to actuate your appetite - Perseus Arm, Arizona Prime, Anikar, industrial resources. I've given you a feast, now if you'd be so kind...

It was a feat of pace that allowed Fate to reach the edge of the ring so quickly, her legs dangling off one side of the endless boundary wall that encircled the ring. As she gazed into space, and behind her, the artificial world extended off into the horizon. Clouds above ended abruptly, welling up against a higher, invisible wall, crushing, thickening and darkening with frightening pace, before softly rebounding away from the force that contained them. Beyond them still, the previously red world was obscured by its own clouds, smoke and soot and dust filling the atmosphere. Fate, though, was lost in thought. She could feel the power of the ring beneath her, and ignored it as she always had.

Automated orders were being carried out with flawless fluidity. As Fate had recovered from her exile, she had instructed the computers to implement much of the plans she had previously conceived of. It was these that had restored the ring to a semblance of normality from the lifeless wasteland she had left it. It was these that began the destruction of the world below, and the renewed manufacture of the sentinels, her mindless warriors. Fate was pleased with the results. She desired more. She had a world, and she had an army, but nobody to follow her, to pledge allegiance, to submit to her will above all else. What Julius had said stirred her. Direct service to the sovereign. The moment he had mentioned that, she resolved to find this sovereign and take their place by any means. And she knew Julius was intelligent, if mad. These computer people had vast stored of knowledge at their beck and call. The prototype she destroyed had that knowledge, and he had lived for mere months. It was the means of pursuing this course of action that she had difficulty conceiving. She had to wait for Julius to return contact. Pressuring him could be negative.

It was as she thought this that Julius did return her call, speaking his curious, cryptically unhinged speech, that Fates was both stirred and delighted. Anikar. The name had weight, and memories. Ancient memories. The sovereign he served? But why would she be familiar with the name of a being she had never met? A long lost stellar formation? That would carry no weight to her, even if it did to someone she influenced long ago. No, this was different. She couldn't say how, was all. She would find out though. Julius would know - and his answer pleased her. He practically goaded her into returning, desperately tempting her with nuggets of knowledge. It was too perfect.

"It would be my pleasure to enter into a profitable partnership with one such as you. Though how you wish to "share" my ring is beyond me. We cannot very well split it down the middle, can we? But I would be willing to hear a suggestion, along with anything you may choose to reveal of "Arizona Prime" and "Anikar". I'm sure if you would like to return to them, as a shared duty of the ring, that I could arrange this, indeed. But for me to, you must divulge all the information you have. My knowledge of your species is limited, but I know you have much to tell... even in mundane matters such as weaponry. I have no interest in such things... but I know they could be useful for Sentinels. I'm not an easily trusting sort, but I'm prepared to let you play about with them, and this installation, as a sign of our deal. But on my behalf, you can expand upon that morsel of information you gave me. Are we agreed?"

From her connection to the ring, she felt information flow. Stellar maps, weapons schematics. Anikar. She had been here? She was the sovereign, after all. Trapped for millenia. How could she know of her, unless.... She let the thought die in her mind. She would have answers soon. That was enough for now. As she continued to examine the influx of data, considering potentials, observing Julius already adapting the design of her sentinel with awesome speed, she was glad.

Bouncing her legs against the wall, the depths of space all that lay below,

Fate laughed.


*The conclusion awaits in "And there was war in Heaven..." *