Ten minutes into Exodus' first certification dive, I received a message from JUNO. The colonists had sent their list of additional base requirements and the cargo manifest, so we could finally continue work at Kaori-san no-shima without any further delays. I was faintly surprised to note that the colonists' additional facility requests were exceedingly modest, although this was a clear reflection of their admirable self-reliance. However, we were already planning to deliver two fully equipped medical bays, each with accommodation for an additional ten beds, along with purpose built facilities for childcare, education and training. Since we still had plenty of room to spare, I added a couple of large multipurpose rooms, a research facility, a workshop and an entertainment lounge.
Polyakov's input was glaringly obvious. The security control facility formed the colony's central hub. His de facto command centre dominated the entire complex, even though it was effectively isolated from the base by a number of reinforced bulkheads and airlocks. What disturbed me most was the fact that this facility also included its own moon pool and a Cyclops docking collar.
Quite the cosy little nest you're planning to set up there, Gospodin.
I briefly considered telling him to go piss up a rope, although this design feature might work to our advantage, particularly if an awkward situation were to develop. We'll even throw in a nice mess deck and separate living quarters for his team. Let's see how long their cohesion as a unit can withstand such Spartan living arrangements. Shiny.
We'll give the rats their nest.
While we were apparently allowing Polyakov and his chums free rein to play Mall Cops, the base's actual defence system was a considerably more subtle affair. The defence turrets will contain a pair of heavy repulsion cannons and a torpedo launcher, and are spaced at regular intervals around the colony's perimeter. The firing arcs of each turret overlap by a generous factor, permitting a single manned turret to control up to two others placed on either side of it. Gunners can engage computer control if necessary, accessing a clone version of Torgaljin's ALECTO defence AI. It's familiar firmware to the colonists, and just bright enough to get on with the task at hand. This would be an acceptable compromise that the colonists could happily live with.
However, JUNO played a significant role in resurrecting ALECTO. He's now considerably smarter than he appears to be.
ALECTO will not target Warpers unless they are actively attacking the base. ALECTO will not target any of us or our vehicles. If Polyakov or his deputies attempt to over-ride ALECTO's safety interlocks, all turrets and the entire security control complex will go into immediate lockdown. Anesthezine gas will instantly flood the turrets and control centre. All that remains is to drag their sorry arses to the brig, then let the colony decide what to do with these jokers once and for all. In the very worst-case scenarios; say if Polyakov and Co. start raising hell and bunker down in the security centre, the entire facility can be jettisoned in one piece without affecting the colony's structural integrity. After that, it's only a simple matter of letting them stew on the seafloor until they see the light of reason once more.
There will be surveillance cameras. Count on it. Clunky and highly obvious cameras placed at certain key locations such as airlocks, public spaces and critical base facilities, installed purely to appease Polyakov's dutiful need to keep a close eye on his fellow colonists. We will be able to hack into these devices remotely and insert precisely what we want Polyakov to see and hear, should the need to do so ever arise. The colonists' wrist PDAs already provide us with personnel tracking and life signs data, so it's no great feat to listen in on any unwelcome social interactions that may occur between Polyakov and the other colonists.
Eight days later, the new base was structurally complete and nearly ready for commissioning. We have already sent word to the colonists, basically letting them know we'd be coming to collect them in two day's time. I was currently engaged in testing the automatic collision shielding fitted to every viewport in the station. Rather than devise a highly sophisticated computer simulation program, I figured that the most effective practical testing method was to ram Ulysses into each segment of the station at 15 knots at the end of a 50 metre run-up. This might seem like a remarkably brutal approach, although I got hard data from an array of stress transducers mounted on the dry side of the walls. Though apparently crude, this methodology was perfectly sound, in that it satisfied all standard analytical criteria: Scientific rigour, consistently reproducible results, meaningful data and extremely loud impact noises.
Man, I love being an engineer.
After completing the breach test some six hours later, I swam out to inspect the striker plate attached to Ulysses' bow. I was pleased to see that the sub had survived being rammed repeatedly into the base, although the metre-thick silicone padded rostrum on its bow no longer bore any resemblance to a Reaper's head. Aramid reinforcement fibre had sprouted from the silicone head-form as it deteriorated, creating a sort of lion's mane on the replica. Not that it mattered of course, since the striker had survived long enough to perform its function perfectly. No actual damage inflicted on the base, and no apparent damage to Ulysses. Just to be on the safe side, I scanned Ulysses from stem to stern to search for micro-fractures. It simply wouldn't do to have the old bus crumble like a fortune cookie during the next deep dive.
As I entered the base, the PA system came online. Chunky, sleazy-sounding R&B guitar licks. Not exactly what I might have selected as a broadcast test track, but it was still pretty good for a pre-2000 oldie. It wasn't one of the tracks from my collection, so I didn't immediately recognise it. I grooved down the corridor, gradually getting into it... Right up to the point where the vocals started.
The crew were pottering about in the bridge when I stumped in, all trying to look vaguely innocent.
"Very funny, JUNO. 'I Hear You Knocking.' Ha-ha. Bloody hilarious." I grumped, only half-seriously.
"I couldn't decide between the Fats Domino or Dave Edmunds version. Blame IANTO. It was he who suggested playing the 1972 version, Captain." JUNO said brightly, pointing at him.
"Tattle-tale." I chided. "Anyway, I think we can wrap things up for today, troops. What's still left on our agenda that can be done tomorrow? According to my chrono, it's almost half-past pub time."
"Only some minor systems integration tasks and habitability adjustments. Well, it's rather more like interior decorating, actually. Definitely nothing that can't wait until tomorrow, Sir." DIBGY said.
"By the by, how's our old friend ALECTO settling into his new surroundings, JUNO?" I asked casually.
"Extremely well, Sir. All nodes are fully operational and He is in standby mode, awaiting orders." JUNO said, winking theatrically.
Later that evening, I found myself thinking a bit too much about something I'd prefer not thinking about at all. Although it was worthwhile to install protective shutters and additional reinforcement panels to the new base, there was absolutely nothing I could do to protect the colony from a Warper attack. Even though Warpers were nominally still our friends, our actual relationship with them might be described as tenuous at best, remarkably fragile at its worst. Deep down, I believe that there are valid reasons to exercise caution in our future interaction with Warpers. If things went sour between humans and Warpers for any reason, it would only take two or three of them to wipe out an entire colony. Unless we caught the actual aggressors red-handed, any attempt at retaliation would inevitably lead to a short, lop-sided and incredibly nasty interplanetary war. Naturally, I was reluctant to share my thoughts on this subject with the crew, at least for the time being.
Instead of kicking back and relaxing like the rest of the crew, I spent most of the night staring at my half-finished tumbler of whisky. My heart simply wasn't in tonight's drinking session, to tell the truth. There were enough doubts and misgivings currently dancing around in my head to fuel an entire year's worth of fun-filled evenings such as this one.
Although I keep telling myself I've done the right thing by the colonists in bringing them up to the surface, I wasn't entirely certain that it was a sensible idea in the first place. To be honest, the colonists were living in comparative safety back at the Lava Castle. Their base was an actual fortress in every sense of the word. In fact, their only real adversaries were sheer boredom and each other. Then Selkirk's Avenging Angels descend into the abyss, bearing tawdry gifts of retrospective compassion, belated apologies, expired sticking-plasters and high-sucrose snack foods hastily re-packaged as 'Hope'. Bravo.
And don't forget, you also picked up a fresh Nemesis in the process, Jimmy. Remember how easy that was?
Tomar and Polyakov may be cut from a similar cloth, although You played the role of tailor admirably in both cases. That's not much to be proud of, incidentally. Unless you want to live with another re-telling of De Ruyter's sad tale on your conscience, you might want to consider potential consequences of your actions other than those that spring immediately to mind. You've got an entire lifetime of experience to draw from here, and you're well on your way into a second. Better yet, stop using that computer you're inhabiting like a bloody pocket calculator. Start THINKING with it!
I sighed, more out of ingrained habit than anything else. I suppose that I was being far more self-critical than was absolutely necessary at the time. Even so, these personal gripe sessions served a legitimate purpose other than pointless mea culpa breast-beating purely for the show of it. Now that I am virtually immortal, at least as long as there are new android bodies to occupy; I still need to connect with my emotions in order to retain a proper human perspective on events around me. It is all too easy to slip into some sort of computer-augmented arrogance and completely lose sight of my original human nature in the process. I'm constantly aware of this. Basically, I need to remind myself that I am still human in spite of all the hardware. However, I can't afford the luxury of making stupid mistakes and hiding under the skirts of the 'only human' excuse any longer. I can only become more than the Alexander Selkirk I used to be; not something better than the human race itself.
Ah, well... That's more than enough cyber-existentialist crap for tonight. I downed what remained of my whisky in one gulp, then headed back to my quarters.
"DSV Exodus to Torgaljin Base. We are on final approach. Requesting docking clearance, over."
"Transmission received, Exodus. Welcome back, Gospodin Selkirk. You are clear to proceed."
Exodus moved forward slowly, entering the base's access tunnel. Its escort vessels Taranis and Red Dragon remained outside until Exodus entered the main airlock, then they were free to enter the sub pen and commence loading any cargo that wouldn't fit into the transport sub. Naturally, we had brought a pair of Ripleys along to take care of any heavy lifting. If the colonists already have everything they need packed and ready to go, this move should be a fairly straightforward affair.
As requested prior to our arrival, the sub bay was completely empty of personnel. It would be tricky enough fitting Exodus into the main airlock without having a horde of random Squishies darting about underfoot. Getting her out of the water posed no problem at all, since the sub-pen's launch elevator was constructed to handle submersibles up to the size of a Cyclops. It was simply a matter of driving onto the lift platform, hoisting Exodus clear of the water and driving onto the sub-bay's apron. There wasn't a huge amount of clearance in the airlock in any dimension except height, so it required some skilful pre-positioning to get Exodus lined up for its approach.
The airlock cycled quickly, allowing the base's inner door to open. Since there was no need to muck around with gradual depressurisation, Exodus was able to clear the lock in thirty seconds. With one smooth sideways translation and a deft ninety-degree turn, we were lined up nicely to enter the central atrium. There was barely enough room in the central corridor for a person to pass either side of the transporter, although it would be a foolhardy stunt for anyone to get too close to this juggernaut while it was still moving. Up ahead, I could see some colonists beginning to draw back uncertainly, and I didn't blame them one bit. Even though Exodus was painted in friendly high-visibility colours, its size and disturbingly tank-like appearance would still put the wind up anyone watching its approach.
I activated the sub's external PA system.
"Your attention, please. This vehicle has not yet completed its final approach manoeuvres. We will require a cleared space in the atrium to rotate into position and permit deployment of the loading ramp. Please signal when all personnel are completely clear of this area. Thank you."
Exodus moved forward into the centre of the atrium, then pivoted to face the opposite direction. Judging by the awed expressions on the colonists' faces, they clearly weren't expecting a vehicle of this size. I shut down the main drive and activated the transport's stern door mechanism. Hydraulics whined softly, driving the massive outer clamshell hatch panels slowly apart. A green light winked on above the door control pane, signalling that both outer pressure doors were now fully open. The loading ramp extended smoothly from its housing, settling onto the ground with a gentle thump. A few seconds later, both inner bulkhead doors retracted automatically, allowing JUNO and I to stroll down the ramp like movie stars, straight into a jostling press of excited colonists.
At the foot of the ramp, I smiled broadly and bowed with a theatrical flourish. After such a dramatic entrance, I couldn't resist taking my only chance to showboat a wee bit in front of an appreciative audience.
After all, it's taken two whole lifetimes to get to this point, so why the Hell not?
As anticipated, it took less than half an hour to get everyone aboard Exodus. While JUNO prepped the sub for departure, I stepped out of the cockpit to brief the colonists. Although it might have been tempting to perform a mock airline safety demo while wearing a 20th. Century cabin attendant's uniform, I had a strong suspicion that it wouldn't be well received...
"In the highly unlikely event of a hull integrity failure, this submarine will instantly implode. Unfortunately, nobody will survive this incident. Terribly sorry about that.
Are there any questions?"
It's probably best that I don't use the morbid humour approach this time around. There's 64 folks onboard, and I dare say that some of them might be nursing a variety of psychological issues. Not a good idea to begin poking at their respective neuroses to see which one flips out first.
As I entered the passenger compartment, the low murmur of conversation inside gradually died down. A minor sea of expectant faces turned up to greet me.
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome aboard. We'll be getting underway in approximately ten minutes. Currently, we are waiting for the last of the heavy cargo to be loaded into our escort vessels, Taranis and Red Dragon. Once they have cleared the docking area, we'll be on our way. Our transit time to the island of Kaori-san no-shima will be 35 minutes, and we respectfully request that you remain seated for the duration of this journey. Incidentally, there are two hygiene modules located in the aft compartment for your convenience." I grinned. "So, if you didn't go before you left, there's no need to hang on. Please relax and enjoy the ride. Spasiba."
I returned to the cockpit and sat down at the console. Time for a bit of soothing music, methinks.
Vivaldi for starters. Something light and cheerful. Although it was strangely appropriate to this particular occasion, Basil Poledouris' Hymn to Red October might have been a bit too much for some.
"Captain, Taranis and Red Dragon have cleared the launch tunnel. Our stern doors are sealed and locked. Propulsion systems are enabled. Exodus stands ready in all respects, Sir." JUNO said crisply.
"All right. Let's take these folks home."
Exodus trundled slowly forward, heading down the corridor towards the airlock. The massive inner doors slid open obediently under JUNO's command as we approached.
"Commencing rotation and alignment for airlock entry. Please remain seated." I said.
Once we were safely inside, JUNO sealed the airlock and activated the pressurisation cycle. I was watching the passengers' reactions on a monitor, and their expressions of apprehension and alarm were enough of a hint to reduce the chamber's thunderous airflow to a more tolerable rate. Any possibility of this procedure scaring our passengers hadn't occurred to me on our way in. After all, we knew what to expect. Rather sheepishly, I keyed the intercom again to reassure the passengers.
"I sincerely apologise for the unexpected noise levels, ladies and gentlemen. Please bear with us. The airlock pressurisation cycle is almost complete. We shall be entering the water very shortly."
It was easy to tell which colonists were accustomed to working underwater prior to our arrival. Exodus descended slowly on the freight elevator, barely making a ripple as it entered the water. The passenger bay monitors displayed a clear view of the sub pen, rippling and distorting as the water inexorably closed over our hull. Many heads were bowed in silent prayer, some faces scanned the walls almost frantically, searching for the first signs of water trickling in from some unseen breach. The Old Hands merely sat watching the monitors with an air of detached disinterest. Occasionally, one might lean over and whisper a few comforting words to those in distress nearby. There was absolutely no point in telling those passengers that their fears were totally unfounded, and that any hull breach at all would unleash a deadly high-pressure jet of water capable of cutting a man in two. Some things are best left unsaid.
"Adjusting trim. Graviton repulsors at two per cent. Main drives are green across the board, Sir."
"Thanks, JUNO. All ahead one-third."
Strictly speaking, JUNO or I could have piloted Exodus without touching a single control. This whole pilot/co-pilot thing was mainly done to convince the colonists that they were in steady hands. From what IANTO told me, the ingrained Torgaljin distrust of AI constructs has been diluted by the passage of time, although it is still present as a cultural undercurrent in this society. If we appeared to be too inhuman in their eyes, it could do irreparable damage to the relationship that we were trying to foster.
During our transit across the inactive lava zone, I left the keel cameras trained dead ahead. Something told me that most of our passengers wouldn't appreciate gazing into open pits of glowing magma. Taranis and Red Dragon had already swept our path clear of Lava Lizards, thereby reducing chances of unwelcome jump-scares setting off an increasingly jittery party. As we approached the ILZ corridor, our escort forged ahead to make certain that the way was clear. Although the corridor wasn't particularly confined for most of its length, it was still a nasty place for an ambush.
We cleared the ILZ corridor without incident, and began rising slowly through the Blood Kelp biome. Our escort kept the resident Amp Eels at a respectful distance, occasionally opening fire on any that tried to close in on Exodus. Our aft repulsion turrets were kept fairly busy during this time, although there wasn't any appreciable danger unless one got close enough to chew on our thrusters. All systems onboard Exodus are EMP-hardened to prevent them from being fried, but there's only so much you can do to armour any external components. That's why we have defence turrets.
Most of the passengers had calmed down by the time we entered the Grand Reef biome. As I walked among them to make sure that they were okay, I noticed a few studious types were using their PDAs to access detailed info on Amp Eels. More than one face lost its colour when they heard what our database had to say about this species. Naturally, it was only a matter of time before someone skipped ahead to consult the entry concerning Reaper Leviathans. All things considered, this drastic change of scenery might be a highly disturbing experience for some of these people. Still, there's no sense in trying to shield any of them from the reality of life on Manannán. Sooner or later, its worst nightmares will pay each one a personal visit.
JUNO sub-vocalised, her voice sounding softly in my head.
"Captain. We have company. You might want to turn off the passenger bay monitors for this one."
nauticalperanaThe land of the free and the home of the braveJoin Date: 2016-05-25Member: 217491Members
edited July 2016
What he said .though I wonder what the emperor would be doing hanging around there .probably to see the people who originally trapped him or to see Selkirk once again to so Selkirk can point out all the creatures that apparently didn't get the message that Selkirk and crew are under his protection
nauticalperanaThe land of the free and the home of the braveJoin Date: 2016-05-25Member: 217491Members
edited July 2016
And we wanna see Selkirk ride on a reaper like a badass or pull a pacific rim on Ahab with the exosuit
On another note ROCKPUNCHER AWAY!!! (And please let the crew get a rockpuncher as a pet so it can be like a large dog (Selkirk or the other crew members would have to be in exosuits to play with it)
Either way, by JUNO's tone, it can't be good company!
I noticed that Selkirk and JUNO may have something going on in Aurora Falls JUNO said that it wouldn't be a good idea for Selkirk to try to make a relationship with an AI. Now that Selkirk is an AI and Juno is a little less formal they might have something happen later in the story
Either way, by JUNO's tone, it can't be good company!
A live phantom leviathan would be wet-your-pants scary ,heck it's skeleton in the lost river is scary enough I can park my cyclops in that things mouth I wonder if the devs will ever make a live phantom leviathan? If they do I feel bad for any players who come across that thing if their wearing a VR set even without a VR set that thing would be scary
Well ..... in order to spend all that energy Alexander could teach them androids other parts of the human nature!
What do you think humans did back then during the evenings, before Television was invented
I hastily excused myself from the passengers I'd been talking to, and returned to the cockpit.
"Okay. What have you got?"
"Multiple life signs. No acoustic profile developing as yet. I'm currently picking them up as density changes in the water. Whatever they are, there's an uncomfortably large number of these creatures... And their movement pattern indicates that they're attempting to surround us."
Navigation sonar showed our predicament all too clearly. We were currently passing through a deep canyon in the Grand Reef biome, in an area containing a chaotic maze of natural archways. This zone was effectively a tunnel passing through a massive cave system 650 metres below sea level, and there was nothing above us but solid rock for at least three kilometres. Although there was plenty of sea room in the cavern, the area was filled with potential ambush points. Arches within arches.
"DIGBY, fall inline astern of us and cover our rear arc. No fuss. Slowly does it."
"Aye, Captain." DIGBY replied briskly.
Five hundred metres into the maze, I heard a soft thump and a skittering of chitin upon the hull. Several others followed, spaced a few seconds apart. After isolating its video feed from general broadcast mode, I panned the sub's forward dorsal camera around to locate the sound's source. Instantly, the monitor was filled with the image of a single, huge eye.
Crabsquids.
The aft dorsal camera revealed that at least five were already on the hull, stalking about and delicately probing the hull for potential weak points. The face of a Crabsquid loomed huge in the monitor. Startled, I flinched at its sudden appearance. Four huge, expressionless eyes revealed absolutely nothing of the true nature of these creatures. There was a definite intelligence at work behind those eyes; albeit one that was entirely alien, calculating, unfathomable and utterly malignant.
Exodus rose slightly to pass over an arch that reared up directly ahead. Unseen, several more Crabsquids detached themselves from the cavern's ceiling and gently landed upon the hull. My view was blocked by the one squatting in front of the aft dorsal camera. If it wasn't for JUNO's warning, I would have been completely unaware of their arrival.
"It's getting too gorram crowded up there. Set EDF to lowest possible effective discharge. I'd rather not give our passengers any cause for concern, at least for the time being. Fire when ready."
"Aye, Sir. Two hundred joules should make them dance quite nicely. Firing."
The sub's electrical defence field flared briefly. Barely noticeable from inside the hull, yet with just enough oomph to make our unwelcome hitchers recoil from Exodus with commendable speed. As the Crabsquids fell astern, Taranis opened fire with its repulsion cannons to drive them away.
Five hundred metres ahead, Red Dragon suddenly went active. The heavy thud of repulsion cannons firing in full auto mode sounded loud and clear through Exodus' hull.
So much for taking a low-key approach to this problem...
Comments
Ten minutes into Exodus' first certification dive, I received a message from JUNO. The colonists had sent their list of additional base requirements and the cargo manifest, so we could finally continue work at Kaori-san no-shima without any further delays. I was faintly surprised to note that the colonists' additional facility requests were exceedingly modest, although this was a clear reflection of their admirable self-reliance. However, we were already planning to deliver two fully equipped medical bays, each with accommodation for an additional ten beds, along with purpose built facilities for childcare, education and training. Since we still had plenty of room to spare, I added a couple of large multipurpose rooms, a research facility, a workshop and an entertainment lounge.
Polyakov's input was glaringly obvious. The security control facility formed the colony's central hub. His de facto command centre dominated the entire complex, even though it was effectively isolated from the base by a number of reinforced bulkheads and airlocks. What disturbed me most was the fact that this facility also included its own moon pool and a Cyclops docking collar.
Quite the cosy little nest you're planning to set up there, Gospodin.
I briefly considered telling him to go piss up a rope, although this design feature might work to our advantage, particularly if an awkward situation were to develop. We'll even throw in a nice mess deck and separate living quarters for his team. Let's see how long their cohesion as a unit can withstand such Spartan living arrangements. Shiny.
We'll give the rats their nest.
While we were apparently allowing Polyakov and his chums free rein to play Mall Cops, the base's actual defence system was a considerably more subtle affair. The defence turrets will contain a pair of heavy repulsion cannons and a torpedo launcher, and are spaced at regular intervals around the colony's perimeter. The firing arcs of each turret overlap by a generous factor, permitting a single manned turret to control up to two others placed on either side of it. Gunners can engage computer control if necessary, accessing a clone version of Torgaljin's ALECTO defence AI. It's familiar firmware to the colonists, and just bright enough to get on with the task at hand. This would be an acceptable compromise that the colonists could happily live with.
However, JUNO played a significant role in resurrecting ALECTO. He's now considerably smarter than he appears to be.
ALECTO will not target Warpers unless they are actively attacking the base. ALECTO will not target any of us or our vehicles. If Polyakov or his deputies attempt to over-ride ALECTO's safety interlocks, all turrets and the entire security control complex will go into immediate lockdown. Anesthezine gas will instantly flood the turrets and control centre. All that remains is to drag their sorry arses to the brig, then let the colony decide what to do with these jokers once and for all. In the very worst-case scenarios; say if Polyakov and Co. start raising hell and bunker down in the security centre, the entire facility can be jettisoned in one piece without affecting the colony's structural integrity. After that, it's only a simple matter of letting them stew on the seafloor until they see the light of reason once more.
There will be surveillance cameras. Count on it. Clunky and highly obvious cameras placed at certain key locations such as airlocks, public spaces and critical base facilities, installed purely to appease Polyakov's dutiful need to keep a close eye on his fellow colonists. We will be able to hack into these devices remotely and insert precisely what we want Polyakov to see and hear, should the need to do so ever arise. The colonists' wrist PDAs already provide us with personnel tracking and life signs data, so it's no great feat to listen in on any unwelcome social interactions that may occur between Polyakov and the other colonists.
Who watches the Watchmen?
We do.
Man, I love being an engineer.
After completing the breach test some six hours later, I swam out to inspect the striker plate attached to Ulysses' bow. I was pleased to see that the sub had survived being rammed repeatedly into the base, although the metre-thick silicone padded rostrum on its bow no longer bore any resemblance to a Reaper's head. Aramid reinforcement fibre had sprouted from the silicone head-form as it deteriorated, creating a sort of lion's mane on the replica. Not that it mattered of course, since the striker had survived long enough to perform its function perfectly. No actual damage inflicted on the base, and no apparent damage to Ulysses. Just to be on the safe side, I scanned Ulysses from stem to stern to search for micro-fractures. It simply wouldn't do to have the old bus crumble like a fortune cookie during the next deep dive.
As I entered the base, the PA system came online. Chunky, sleazy-sounding R&B guitar licks. Not exactly what I might have selected as a broadcast test track, but it was still pretty good for a pre-2000 oldie. It wasn't one of the tracks from my collection, so I didn't immediately recognise it. I grooved down the corridor, gradually getting into it... Right up to the point where the vocals started.
The crew were pottering about in the bridge when I stumped in, all trying to look vaguely innocent.
"Very funny, JUNO. 'I Hear You Knocking.' Ha-ha. Bloody hilarious." I grumped, only half-seriously.
"I couldn't decide between the Fats Domino or Dave Edmunds version. Blame IANTO. It was he who suggested playing the 1972 version, Captain." JUNO said brightly, pointing at him.
"Tattle-tale." I chided. "Anyway, I think we can wrap things up for today, troops. What's still left on our agenda that can be done tomorrow? According to my chrono, it's almost half-past pub time."
"Only some minor systems integration tasks and habitability adjustments. Well, it's rather more like interior decorating, actually. Definitely nothing that can't wait until tomorrow, Sir." DIBGY said.
"By the by, how's our old friend ALECTO settling into his new surroundings, JUNO?" I asked casually.
"Extremely well, Sir. All nodes are fully operational and He is in standby mode, awaiting orders." JUNO said, winking theatrically.
Instead of kicking back and relaxing like the rest of the crew, I spent most of the night staring at my half-finished tumbler of whisky. My heart simply wasn't in tonight's drinking session, to tell the truth. There were enough doubts and misgivings currently dancing around in my head to fuel an entire year's worth of fun-filled evenings such as this one.
Although I keep telling myself I've done the right thing by the colonists in bringing them up to the surface, I wasn't entirely certain that it was a sensible idea in the first place. To be honest, the colonists were living in comparative safety back at the Lava Castle. Their base was an actual fortress in every sense of the word. In fact, their only real adversaries were sheer boredom and each other. Then Selkirk's Avenging Angels descend into the abyss, bearing tawdry gifts of retrospective compassion, belated apologies, expired sticking-plasters and high-sucrose snack foods hastily re-packaged as 'Hope'. Bravo.
And don't forget, you also picked up a fresh Nemesis in the process, Jimmy. Remember how easy that was?
Tomar and Polyakov may be cut from a similar cloth, although You played the role of tailor admirably in both cases. That's not much to be proud of, incidentally. Unless you want to live with another re-telling of De Ruyter's sad tale on your conscience, you might want to consider potential consequences of your actions other than those that spring immediately to mind. You've got an entire lifetime of experience to draw from here, and you're well on your way into a second. Better yet, stop using that computer you're inhabiting like a bloody pocket calculator. Start THINKING with it!
I sighed, more out of ingrained habit than anything else. I suppose that I was being far more self-critical than was absolutely necessary at the time. Even so, these personal gripe sessions served a legitimate purpose other than pointless mea culpa breast-beating purely for the show of it. Now that I am virtually immortal, at least as long as there are new android bodies to occupy; I still need to connect with my emotions in order to retain a proper human perspective on events around me. It is all too easy to slip into some sort of computer-augmented arrogance and completely lose sight of my original human nature in the process. I'm constantly aware of this. Basically, I need to remind myself that I am still human in spite of all the hardware. However, I can't afford the luxury of making stupid mistakes and hiding under the skirts of the 'only human' excuse any longer. I can only become more than the Alexander Selkirk I used to be; not something better than the human race itself.
Ah, well... That's more than enough cyber-existentialist crap for tonight. I downed what remained of my whisky in one gulp, then headed back to my quarters.
"Transmission received, Exodus. Welcome back, Gospodin Selkirk. You are clear to proceed."
Exodus moved forward slowly, entering the base's access tunnel. Its escort vessels Taranis and Red Dragon remained outside until Exodus entered the main airlock, then they were free to enter the sub pen and commence loading any cargo that wouldn't fit into the transport sub. Naturally, we had brought a pair of Ripleys along to take care of any heavy lifting. If the colonists already have everything they need packed and ready to go, this move should be a fairly straightforward affair.
As requested prior to our arrival, the sub bay was completely empty of personnel. It would be tricky enough fitting Exodus into the main airlock without having a horde of random Squishies darting about underfoot. Getting her out of the water posed no problem at all, since the sub-pen's launch elevator was constructed to handle submersibles up to the size of a Cyclops. It was simply a matter of driving onto the lift platform, hoisting Exodus clear of the water and driving onto the sub-bay's apron. There wasn't a huge amount of clearance in the airlock in any dimension except height, so it required some skilful pre-positioning to get Exodus lined up for its approach.
The airlock cycled quickly, allowing the base's inner door to open. Since there was no need to muck around with gradual depressurisation, Exodus was able to clear the lock in thirty seconds. With one smooth sideways translation and a deft ninety-degree turn, we were lined up nicely to enter the central atrium. There was barely enough room in the central corridor for a person to pass either side of the transporter, although it would be a foolhardy stunt for anyone to get too close to this juggernaut while it was still moving. Up ahead, I could see some colonists beginning to draw back uncertainly, and I didn't blame them one bit. Even though Exodus was painted in friendly high-visibility colours, its size and disturbingly tank-like appearance would still put the wind up anyone watching its approach.
I activated the sub's external PA system.
"Your attention, please. This vehicle has not yet completed its final approach manoeuvres. We will require a cleared space in the atrium to rotate into position and permit deployment of the loading ramp. Please signal when all personnel are completely clear of this area. Thank you."
Exodus moved forward into the centre of the atrium, then pivoted to face the opposite direction. Judging by the awed expressions on the colonists' faces, they clearly weren't expecting a vehicle of this size. I shut down the main drive and activated the transport's stern door mechanism. Hydraulics whined softly, driving the massive outer clamshell hatch panels slowly apart. A green light winked on above the door control pane, signalling that both outer pressure doors were now fully open. The loading ramp extended smoothly from its housing, settling onto the ground with a gentle thump. A few seconds later, both inner bulkhead doors retracted automatically, allowing JUNO and I to stroll down the ramp like movie stars, straight into a jostling press of excited colonists.
At the foot of the ramp, I smiled broadly and bowed with a theatrical flourish. After such a dramatic entrance, I couldn't resist taking my only chance to showboat a wee bit in front of an appreciative audience.
After all, it's taken two whole lifetimes to get to this point, so why the Hell not?
"Nǐ hǎo péngyǒu... Welcome aboard The Magic Bus!"
"In the highly unlikely event of a hull integrity failure, this submarine will instantly implode. Unfortunately, nobody will survive this incident. Terribly sorry about that.
Are there any questions?"
It's probably best that I don't use the morbid humour approach this time around. There's 64 folks onboard, and I dare say that some of them might be nursing a variety of psychological issues. Not a good idea to begin poking at their respective neuroses to see which one flips out first.
As I entered the passenger compartment, the low murmur of conversation inside gradually died down. A minor sea of expectant faces turned up to greet me.
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome aboard. We'll be getting underway in approximately ten minutes. Currently, we are waiting for the last of the heavy cargo to be loaded into our escort vessels, Taranis and Red Dragon. Once they have cleared the docking area, we'll be on our way. Our transit time to the island of Kaori-san no-shima will be 35 minutes, and we respectfully request that you remain seated for the duration of this journey. Incidentally, there are two hygiene modules located in the aft compartment for your convenience." I grinned. "So, if you didn't go before you left, there's no need to hang on. Please relax and enjoy the ride. Spasiba."
I returned to the cockpit and sat down at the console. Time for a bit of soothing music, methinks.
Vivaldi for starters. Something light and cheerful. Although it was strangely appropriate to this particular occasion, Basil Poledouris' Hymn to Red October might have been a bit too much for some.
"Captain, Taranis and Red Dragon have cleared the launch tunnel. Our stern doors are sealed and locked. Propulsion systems are enabled. Exodus stands ready in all respects, Sir." JUNO said crisply.
"All right. Let's take these folks home."
Exodus trundled slowly forward, heading down the corridor towards the airlock. The massive inner doors slid open obediently under JUNO's command as we approached.
"Commencing rotation and alignment for airlock entry. Please remain seated." I said.
Once we were safely inside, JUNO sealed the airlock and activated the pressurisation cycle. I was watching the passengers' reactions on a monitor, and their expressions of apprehension and alarm were enough of a hint to reduce the chamber's thunderous airflow to a more tolerable rate. Any possibility of this procedure scaring our passengers hadn't occurred to me on our way in. After all, we knew what to expect. Rather sheepishly, I keyed the intercom again to reassure the passengers.
"I sincerely apologise for the unexpected noise levels, ladies and gentlemen. Please bear with us. The airlock pressurisation cycle is almost complete. We shall be entering the water very shortly."
"Adjusting trim. Graviton repulsors at two per cent. Main drives are green across the board, Sir."
"Thanks, JUNO. All ahead one-third."
Strictly speaking, JUNO or I could have piloted Exodus without touching a single control. This whole pilot/co-pilot thing was mainly done to convince the colonists that they were in steady hands. From what IANTO told me, the ingrained Torgaljin distrust of AI constructs has been diluted by the passage of time, although it is still present as a cultural undercurrent in this society. If we appeared to be too inhuman in their eyes, it could do irreparable damage to the relationship that we were trying to foster.
During our transit across the inactive lava zone, I left the keel cameras trained dead ahead. Something told me that most of our passengers wouldn't appreciate gazing into open pits of glowing magma. Taranis and Red Dragon had already swept our path clear of Lava Lizards, thereby reducing chances of unwelcome jump-scares setting off an increasingly jittery party. As we approached the ILZ corridor, our escort forged ahead to make certain that the way was clear. Although the corridor wasn't particularly confined for most of its length, it was still a nasty place for an ambush.
We cleared the ILZ corridor without incident, and began rising slowly through the Blood Kelp biome. Our escort kept the resident Amp Eels at a respectful distance, occasionally opening fire on any that tried to close in on Exodus. Our aft repulsion turrets were kept fairly busy during this time, although there wasn't any appreciable danger unless one got close enough to chew on our thrusters. All systems onboard Exodus are EMP-hardened to prevent them from being fried, but there's only so much you can do to armour any external components. That's why we have defence turrets.
Most of the passengers had calmed down by the time we entered the Grand Reef biome. As I walked among them to make sure that they were okay, I noticed a few studious types were using their PDAs to access detailed info on Amp Eels. More than one face lost its colour when they heard what our database had to say about this species. Naturally, it was only a matter of time before someone skipped ahead to consult the entry concerning Reaper Leviathans. All things considered, this drastic change of scenery might be a highly disturbing experience for some of these people. Still, there's no sense in trying to shield any of them from the reality of life on Manannán. Sooner or later, its worst nightmares will pay each one a personal visit.
JUNO sub-vocalised, her voice sounding softly in my head.
"Captain. We have company. You might want to turn off the passenger bay monitors for this one."
please?
On another note ROCKPUNCHER AWAY!!! (And please let the crew get a rockpuncher as a pet so it can be like a large dog (Selkirk or the other crew members would have to be in exosuits to play with it)
I noticed that Selkirk and JUNO may have something going on in Aurora Falls JUNO said that it wouldn't be a good idea for Selkirk to try to make a relationship with an AI. Now that Selkirk is an AI and Juno is a little less formal they might have something happen later in the story
A live phantom leviathan would be wet-your-pants scary ,heck it's skeleton in the lost river is scary enough I can park my cyclops in that things mouth I wonder if the devs will ever make a live phantom leviathan? If they do I feel bad for any players who come across that thing if their wearing a VR set even without a VR set that thing would be scary
I hope that the mysterious figure is "The Father of Tides".
Or possibly The Sea Dragon (Warper name?)
I was talking about the jellyfish snake creature in the skeleton.
Oh
Or Selkirk could get comfy with JUNO
"Okay. What have you got?"
"Multiple life signs. No acoustic profile developing as yet. I'm currently picking them up as density changes in the water. Whatever they are, there's an uncomfortably large number of these creatures... And their movement pattern indicates that they're attempting to surround us."
Navigation sonar showed our predicament all too clearly. We were currently passing through a deep canyon in the Grand Reef biome, in an area containing a chaotic maze of natural archways. This zone was effectively a tunnel passing through a massive cave system 650 metres below sea level, and there was nothing above us but solid rock for at least three kilometres. Although there was plenty of sea room in the cavern, the area was filled with potential ambush points. Arches within arches.
"DIGBY, fall inline astern of us and cover our rear arc. No fuss. Slowly does it."
"Aye, Captain." DIGBY replied briskly.
Five hundred metres into the maze, I heard a soft thump and a skittering of chitin upon the hull. Several others followed, spaced a few seconds apart. After isolating its video feed from general broadcast mode, I panned the sub's forward dorsal camera around to locate the sound's source. Instantly, the monitor was filled with the image of a single, huge eye.
Crabsquids.
The aft dorsal camera revealed that at least five were already on the hull, stalking about and delicately probing the hull for potential weak points. The face of a Crabsquid loomed huge in the monitor. Startled, I flinched at its sudden appearance. Four huge, expressionless eyes revealed absolutely nothing of the true nature of these creatures. There was a definite intelligence at work behind those eyes; albeit one that was entirely alien, calculating, unfathomable and utterly malignant.
Exodus rose slightly to pass over an arch that reared up directly ahead. Unseen, several more Crabsquids detached themselves from the cavern's ceiling and gently landed upon the hull. My view was blocked by the one squatting in front of the aft dorsal camera. If it wasn't for JUNO's warning, I would have been completely unaware of their arrival.
"It's getting too gorram crowded up there. Set EDF to lowest possible effective discharge. I'd rather not give our passengers any cause for concern, at least for the time being. Fire when ready."
"Aye, Sir. Two hundred joules should make them dance quite nicely. Firing."
The sub's electrical defence field flared briefly. Barely noticeable from inside the hull, yet with just enough oomph to make our unwelcome hitchers recoil from Exodus with commendable speed. As the Crabsquids fell astern, Taranis opened fire with its repulsion cannons to drive them away.
Five hundred metres ahead, Red Dragon suddenly went active. The heavy thud of repulsion cannons firing in full auto mode sounded loud and clear through Exodus' hull.
So much for taking a low-key approach to this problem...
Arthur Dent; 1978