Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 357
"We left Mars to conduct specialised research," Archmagos Nystat explained.
"Dangerous research," Archmagos Dolder elaborated, "The kind not approved of among the Forge Synod."
"Heretek?" Kerubim asked.
"Some would claim so," Nystat stated, "We were experimenting with spacetime distortions and how they interact with varying states of consciousness."
"That is why we came to this observatory," Dolder added, "We wished to understand the relationship between quantum states in altered dimensions."
"I see," Kerubim mused.
Aronyx didn't, the Regnator was no savant of the Cult Technis, his understanding of the Machine was limited, as was his people's. Lamentantor had not boasted a full Techmarine in many generations, and much lore was lost. He took some comfort in the fact Ferrac seemed equally stumped, the Amber Viper as mystified as he was. Kerubim seemed the only one able to keep up.
"Explain," Ferrac growled.
Kerubim half-turned, "Quantum theory postulates that space and time are altered by the act of looking at them. That perception shapes the universe, not matter and energy. Some ancient tracts hypothesise that by elevating one's consciousness into higher realms one can change reality."
"Isn't that basically what a Psyker does?" Rovenator asked.
"In a fashion, but that is a result of organic mutation," Dolder stated.
Nystat continued, "We sought to achieve a mechanical equivalence, to make a machine that allowed our minds to interact with the firmament of the Materium."
"A warp-tap," Ferrac growled, "I've seen those before, they always end badly."
"Your supposition is flawed," Nystat sniffed, "You display sub-optimal intelligence."
Dolder stated, "We sought no contact with the warp, our research was directed entirely into the Materium. We were guided in our work by captured Necron writings, transcribed from decaying ruins."
Aronyx enjoyed the annoyance that radiated off Ferrac, the Battle-Captain seeming offended by the curt dismissal. Others hung back, standing in a loose circle about the pair of Archmagos. Blood, Host and Amber Viper, forming a ring of defence about the meeting. Under the armourglass dome they listened as the pair explained their plight.
Dolder continued, "We built quantum callipers and linked them to our Noosphere. Our conscious minds were expanded in ways we thought impossible. The data was sublime, but then an unexpected occurrence overwhelmed us. Black hole K57-76-3a flared, its dimensions changing unpredictably and its temporal effect inverting. Hawking radiation washed over the station, at levels lethal even to augmented bodies. Flesh-death occurred within seven point three-four seconds."
"You died?" Rovenator gulped.
"Our bodies expired," Nystat stated, "Our minds, however, endured. Preserved within the Noosphere."
"Holy Cog," Kerubim breathed, "You achieved the Techno-Singularity?"
"We did," Dolder confirmed.
From Kerubim's tone this must be a matter of some import, but Aronyx did not know it. These Tech-priests seemed neither dead nor mechanical, and none of this explained why their personalities kept changing. None of this made sense to him.
"We are not familiar with this term," the Regnator stated.
Dolder explained, "Since the dawn of the Mechancius it has been the sacred goal of all Tech-Priests to merge with the Omnissiah's gifts, to bring man and machine into holy union. May have sought to replace the flesh with metal, to free their minds from decaying mortality and ascend to the permanence of the Machine."
Nystat elaborated, "Some seek to meld their intelligence into a Quagmire, others to copy their neural patterns into raw data and exist as engrams in the Noosphere, but what we have done surpasses all that feeble grasping."
Kerubim pressed, "You are fully conscious? Self-aware within the realm Binaric?"
"The Noosphere has become a Necrosphere," Dolder confirmed, "We are fully intact, without any loss of self-actualisation."
"Which means what exactly?" Ferrac growled.
Kerubim turned to explain, "When the Cicatrix Maledictum opened this Black Hole convulsed, rippling spacetime. The resulting effect killed the Tech-Priests operating this station, but in ways beyond comprehension it saved them too. Their minds were taken from their bodies and placed inside the Logic Engines, bio-transference, a process none have ever mastered. Dolder and Nystat, all their acolytes and servants, are alive inside the Logic Engines, not as memory engrams and embedded protocols, but as sentient beings. It is the apex of the Cult Technis' arts."
Aronyx barely understood the explanation, but what little he did grasp horrified him. To live trapped inside a data-loom, unable to act, unable to fight, it was the antitheses of the Blood's philosophy. To linger for eternity without ever earning a beautiful death, struck at the core of him. His grip on the lance tightened as his lips drew back over fangs. Deep in his guts the black fury rumbled, outraged by the very notion.
"Get to the part about saving you," Ferrac growled.
Dolder nodded, "We have endured within the station's cogitators, but the systems were never designed to hold living minds. The pressure strains the processors to their limits. One would exact a toll, but we have hundreds of the greatest geniuses of Mars within our data-looms. Our finest minds have laboured to upgrade the capacity of the Logic Engines, but our resources are limited. The Necrosphere is on the verge of cascade failure. If it does, all is lost."
"We must relocate you to the Serpens Rex at once," Kerubim agreed.
"Hold on," Ferrac growled, "What did we learn about bringing rogue Abominable Intelligence into the Nest?!"
Nystat retorted, "We are not Silica Animus, we are living minds!"
"I don't see the difference," Ferrac snorted.
Kerubim snapped, "We are talking about hundreds of the greatest minds of the Mechanicus, their combined knowledge is a boon the Imperium can scarce afford to lose. The discovery of the Techno-singularity would be celebrated across every Forgeworld."
"And then what, they'd all live inside a cogitator?" Rovenator growled.
Dolder lifted his voice, "You cannot imagine the perfection of the Necrosphere. The realm Binaric is ours to shape as we will. Virtual environments we can conjure in an instant, and lifetimes can be played out in seconds. I have experienced simulations as High Lord and peasant alike. Rogue Trader and Space Marine, Explorator and factorum worker, farmer and potter. Brave men and cowards. The possibilities are endless."
"Fantasies," Aronyx snarled, "That is all you offer mankind, dreams and shadow-plays. This is not glory, this is not life."
Kerubim shook his head, "You do not understand, this is the culmination of the Mechanicus' dreams. We cannot let them die."
"They are dead already," Ferrac growled, "We speak to echoes of men, not true people."
Dolder seemed incensed, "Do not listen to him, we are alive!"
"No," Aronyx sighed, "This is not embracing life; this is hiding from death."
"Red Sands," Kerubim sighed, "They're right, this is not the true Singularity."
Nystat seemed alarmed, "You cannot listen to these glitches!"
But Kerubim set his chin firm, "You are not alive, you merely linger. I have seen the things men do to eke out life, the things the ancients made in their madness. I learned life must be lived in the now, and death should not be feared. Brontes would be ashamed to hear me countenance this."
Dolder stepped forward, "But there is a way! A line once breached can be crossed again. All we need are bodies to inhabit!"
Aronyx's suspicions flared, "Bodies... like these two?"
Nystat nodded eagerly, "A crippled ship came to the station, the crew were confused and starving. We discovered that we could inhabit their bodies, any of us, at any time. It took some experimenting and Augmentation, but we found a way to move our consciousness into the flesh, and back again. We can leave this place, if only we have vessels to convey us."
Hands tightened on bolters as Ferrac hissed, "And what happened to the rest of the crew?"
Dolder sniffed, "Losses are inevitable when pushing the boundaries of the known."
"And the minds of these two bodies?" Aronyx probed.
"Unrecoverable," Nystat dismissed, "They were substandard in intellect, of little value when set against the staggering genius of an Archmagos."
Bolters and shotguns snapped up, even Kerubim taking up his squared-rifle as the Archmagi were surrounded by a ring of weapons. They blinked in surprise as they looked about, seemingly baffled by the hostility displayed. Aronyx levelled his lance, as Ferrac raised his axe-rake and gun, while Rovenator's claws flared into life.
"What are you Fleshbags doing?!" Dolder spat in annoyance.
"We are leaving," Aronyx spat, "Don't try to stop us."
"But we need your bodies!" Nystat implored, "Surely you see the necessity of your sacrifice. Your simple minds are inconsequential, when measured against our brilliance. We are polymaths and savants beyond compare. You should be honoured to become vessels for the Techno-Singularity."
"Not happening," Rovenator hissed, "Make for the door."
But Dolder retorted, "Rusty cogs, did you think we would let you leave?!"
A squeal from the open doors signalled danger and the Space Marines reacted instantly. Bolters roared and the pair of adepts came apart, blown into sprays of red mist. The deed took barely a second, but the danger was not over. Aronyx spun about and found a wall of pistons and gears in motion, the pair of Battle-automata lumbering into the room, weapons glowing evilly. In their wake skittered smaller constructs, loping along in hunch-backed gaits, weapon arms spinning as carapace guns twitched.
A furious salvo of bolts and shotgun pellets greeted them, but the hail pattered off thick armour. The constructs waded into the storm, suffering little more than scratches, then their arms rose to return fire. Aronyx threw himself aside as a torrent of bullets slammed into the deck. Assault cannons spewing rounds at a staggering rate, chewing through instruments and arcane devices without care. The Transhumans suffered grievous hits, and bled profusely from the cracks in their plate. The mortals suffered worse. The Host were too slow to evade, their vac-suits too flimsy to withstand the hail. A half-dozen went down, bleeding out from vicious wounds.
Aronyx's anger spiked and he sought to close with his weapon. A melta-blast from the hunch-backed ones put paid to that notion, forcing him back behind a telescope lest he be gutted. The stomping creature came on, spinning barrels spitting rounds as the meltagun on top sought a clean shot. Aronyx was trapped and he felt his cover disintegrating under the onslaught, about to leave him exposed to another blast that would end everything.
He was saved when Rovenator came out of nowhere, lightning claws shearing through metal. A weapon-arm fell to the deck, sparking profusely. A living being would have been dismayed but the robot swung about, slamming its hot barrels into Rovenator's chest. The Centurio staggered and the Meltagun lowered, but Aronyx had his opening. The Regnator surged from cover, lance point leading. He slammed the length of the relic into the robot, skewering its heart. Connection was made, but hazy and indistinct. The cortex within was lacking memory and all Aronyx beheld was a vague impression of labs and probes, lacking any sense of self.
The robot fell as Rovenator breathed, "My Regnator, great thanks."
"Thanks be to you," Aronyx countered, "But later."
He turned to find the battle raging. Robots advanced in lockstep, unconcerned by any possible threat. Bolts sparked from their plate but the bigger pair strode on, assault cannons blazing on every arm. Shoulder-mounted bombards swept back and forth, seeking targets, uncaring for collateral damage. The Space Marines were forced to fall back, unable to stand their ground, but room to retreat was fast running out.
Dolder's voice echoed from one robot, "Rust-addled dolts, did you think we'd die so easily?!"
Nystat snarled from the other, "All we need is one or two of you alive, to call more over. A few hundred bodies should suffice, why do you not see the value of your sacrifice?!"
Ferrac was hunkered down behind a macroscope, unable to stand as he called, "What are we facing?!"
Kerubim yelled from cover, "Two Domitars and a pack of Vorax hunter-killers!"
"Weaknesses?!" Ferrac spat.
"None," Kerubim retorted, "They are forged for battle."
"Ground battle maybe," Ferrac spat as he lifted his gun high.
"What are you doing?!" Aronyx yelled.
"Space Marines, hold on to something!" Ferrac yelled, "We're going for a little walk!"
Aronyx saw Ferrac's intent and hurled himself at the nearest instrument. He wrapped his hands around the bulky frame just as Ferrac opened fire. Hurtling rounds shot straight up and slammed into the dome, cracking armourglass in cobwebs of faults. Ferrac kept firing, hitting the same spot with everything he'd got. An entire clip did he empty, and the dome shuddered in distress. His gun ran dry and Aronyx thought for a heart-stopping moment he'd failed, but then the violated dome ruptured. Air exploded outwards as decompression tore at the limbs of all, violently ejecting any man or object not secured into the vacuum of space and all Aronyx could do was hang on lest be thrown into the infinite gulf of the void.
