ACT I | THE TYRANT'S MALEVOLENCE
CHAPTER VI | RETURN
BRIDGE | ARES ONE | MARS
Valentin took the offered cup of water from Admiral Amanda Holliday. He certainly needed it after speaking for…how long was it now? It felt like hours. When they'd emerged to find that Ares One, as well as the warships, had been on the surface – likely teleported - that had been the place to go.
None of them had any idea who or what would be left, as much as they were thinking about such things after what they'd seen. His own mind had felt like it was fried after seeing things which his mind wasn't made for. His dreams that night had been filled with spheres, pyramids, light and darkness; an overarching dread lasting with him hours after he'd awoken.
The whole experience had been extremely draining; trying to sort his own emotions from those induced by the vision. In the moment; in the Traveler, it had seemed that everything was certain and natural, and now after several hours back in the real world, all of them were struck at how fantastical the supernatural event they had experienced was.
And yet, he knew a few things for certain.
The Traveler was here to help.
They were threatened by an enemy of darkness.
And that he was chosen.
For what? He didn't know. But he'd passively come to understand it as he'd been in the Traveler; he had been addressed before the rest of them; he'd adapted to the madness with surprising quickness. And he felt there was some kind of connection between him and the hovering Celestial in the Martian sky.
It filled him with a certainty about those three things which defied explanation. He knew what she wanted and her true intentions on a primal, instinctive level. He couldn't explain how, yet he knew he was certain. He had touched the mind of a god, and it has bestowed upon him knowledge.
The Ghost had stayed by his side since exiting, maintaining a close orbit around him, though it was less of a cold observer almost like a companion. It seemed to understand what he'd seen; what he was experiencing, and let him have space, while offering an encouraging or explanative word here and there.
As it turned out, Amanda Holliday was still here, and now the highest ranking Triumvirate figure who remained. She'd taken command of what was left of the Ares One expedition, and had him brought to her to give an explanation. Well, 'brought' was slightly harsh. If one considered a nervous junior officer meekly knocking on his quarters and saying that Admiral Holliday wanted to see him, and then escorting him to a bridge, one could say he was 'brought'.
He'd never met the American prodigy, nor know a significant amount about her before today outside of what was common knowledge. All he knew was that she was a genius, had pioneered much of modern space naval theory, and was extremely young for her rank. The few people he'd heard of who'd met her only had nice things to say, but that didn't explain much.
Nonetheless, he was struck by just how young she was. She was only a half-decade or so older than he was, and he had yet to reach thirty. She didn't exactly cut an intimidating figure, standing shorter than him, nor was she an especially intense presence. In fact, she seemed rather friendly for an Admiral.
Friendly, if bothered. Unsettled, perhaps.
She wasn't the only one.
She'd cleared the bridge and sat him down. Even if she was nice, she had some steel in her voice, and her kind emerald eyes transitioned to intense calculation as she appraised him. That would have normally been something which put him on guard, but after what he'd experienced, he truly wondered if there was anything anyone could do which would shake him again.
What sadness could equal the betrayal in the Garden? What horror could equal the trillions of lives lost to the darkness? What pain and terror could match what he'd felt when the King of Old had turned his gaze upon him?
Everything seemed…mundane compared to that.
He involuntarily suppressed a shiver at the memory of the King.
Amanda had sat down opposite him, and he'd told her what he'd seen. Words seemed inadequate to describe the experience. He realized how ludicrous they sounded when speaking them aloud, yet didn't stumble in the explanation. Mad or not to their minds, reality was clearly more malleable than any of them had believed. He couldn't go back to skepticism and disbelief, not after what he'd experienced.
Though the vast majority had not experienced the same revelation.
He'd tried working in the emotional component to the vision, not simply what had happened, but the sheer scale of emotions; their overwhelming nature. Seeing was not enough; feeling was just as important, at least when it came to this. He didn't know how Amanda was taking his story, as she'd been largely silent, content to let him speak.
Finished now, he took a drink of water, and waited for the verdict.
"Well," Amanda said in a slow, neutral voice. "If I had heard that story from anyone else, my first instinct would be to recommend them to a mental institution. But given the circumstances, I can only assume that you're telling the truth."
He raised an eyebrow. "Just like that?"
The Admiral snorted. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not downplaying how…insane some of what you described is. But either you're one of the most creative liars I've ever met, or you're telling me exactly what you saw. Based on how you've acted, I feel confident in saying you're not lying."
She leaned forward, resting her arms on the table. "I debriefed Servicewoman Collens before you. She said some of the same things you did, but you provided far more context and clarity. She said that you seemed to be singled out by this Traveler. Do you know why?"
"No."
"Do you have an idea why?"
"Not truly," he glanced to the Ghost hovering above him. "If you want to answer, please do so."
"I cannot speak to the Traveler's decisions," the Ghost warbled. "I do not share the connection with her in the way you do. I think you know why you understand and see more; that you experienced the vision as she sees it."
Valentin was silent for a moment. He wondered, but it felt odd to vocalize. "She sees me as an ideal; someone who can understand and share her goals and beliefs. Worthy and capable of her blessing. A symbol to rise to." He shrugged. "I don't know what that says about me, or her for that matter. I'm not anyone especially unique or important."
"You sound sure of that."
"I'm sure about quite a few things, and I don't really understand why for most of them."
"I see," Amanda drummed her fingers on the table. "Well, partially. But you clearly are favored by her to some degree. What does she want with us?"
"To protect us."
"From this Darkness?"
"Yes." A pause. "Not just to protect us, but to uplift us. Allow us to protect ourselves."
"Through these…Guardians?"
"Beings who can wield the Light, yes."
"But not for everyone."
"No. Not everyone."
Amanda's face was contemplative, as her eyes briefly became unfocused. "What does she intend for the Triumvirate?"
Valentin hesitated. "I'm not completely sure. She wants to believe the best, and if the Triumvirate works with her, then she will work with them. I'm certain of that. But I…" he trailed off, remembering he was speaking to one of the highest ranked women in the United States military.
He still had to remember that. Certain things were maybe best unsaid.
Amanda appraised him knowingly. "But you wonder how compatible the Traveler and Triumvirate are."
She was full of surprises. "To a degree, yes. I…do not think she would take kindly to certain actions the Triumvirate has taken."
"But she might be willing to overlook them if the Triumvirate plays ball."
"I believe so."
"Wonderful," Amanda said dryly. "There may be a chance then. Thankfully the Triumvirate isn't run by idiots. They're not likely to fuck with her after seeing what she can do. Though it remains to be seen how much of this they believe. You know they're going to interview you."
"Of course they are. I'm looking forward to my stay in a KGB facility."
Amanda chuckled. "You Soviets and fear of the KGB. Even they wouldn't be so brazen as to do that to you, especially not with your friend nearby," she nodded to the Ghost, who spun the fins on its shell. "Especially once they come to the same conclusion I did – that the Traveler has an eye on you in particular. They'll want to be on their best behavior."
"You clearly haven't met many Soviets then. They get what they want eventually."
"And are you going to hide anything?"
"No, never."
"Then from what I see, you don't have much to worry about," she cocked her head. "In fact, you're likely to become a very important person over the next few months."
"I can't wait."
"Clearly," she answered in a similar sarcastic tone. "I'll be sure to put in a good word for you. I don't know how much it will help, but I have a few connections myself, as well as my rank. Someone will listen. If the Soviets give you trouble, I will ensure that you can receive American asylum."
He blinked, caught off guard. That was not a promise that he could ever recall being given, even in the most outlandish of rumors. Every Triumvirate nation was so close that they tended to not interfere in each other's matters. One of the most prominent Admirals in the United States offering this was no small thing.
"I…thank you," he said after a moment. "But, and don't take this the wrong way, could I get that in writing?"
She smiled. "Certainly – though first, I have one more question."
"What?"
"How exactly are we going to get back to Earth?" She nodded outside. "When most of my crew vanished, and we were set on the ground thanks to our Celestial benefactor, we were effectively stranded. The Ghosts are stubbornly guarding the comms, so we can't even let the Triumvirate know we're still alive. Is she just planning to teleport us back to Earth?"
That had been something Valentin had wondered as well, and now that he thought about it, the answer seemed clear. "She wants to test us. To see if we can get ourselves back."
"How?"
"I do have an idea," he said, glancing upward. "Ghost – I don't suppose that the Traveler has…I don't know, schematics stored somewhere? Of spacecraft?"
"Indeed, she has many," the Ghost turned its eye to Amanda. "While you have a slight manpower and construction shortage, we are capable of being quite a versatile tool, provided you give us direction."
"So…" Amanda tapped a finger on her chin. "We build a spacecraft to take us home. A better one, presumably."
"We'll need engineers and scientists," Valentin said. "I don't suppose you took a look at who's left?"
"I did, actually. We've been reduced to roughly thirty percent personnel. Fortunately quite a few of our mechanics, engineers, and scientists are still with us. Most of the soldiers, civilians, and high ranking personnel are gone."
Valentin pursed his lips. "I wonder if that was the criteria."
"You don't know?"
"I know there was some rationale. I don't know the exact one."
"Hm," she appraised the Ghost, which looked down at her almost innocently. "I have an idea of my own, but I want to confirm some things first. But if that's what the Traveler wants…I suppose we should get to work. Time to build a spaceship. Again."
THE KREMLIN | RUSSIA | SOVIET UNION
Clovis finished observing the debriefing of yet another of the Space Marines who'd been returned to Earth. The interrogator was asking the same questions he'd asked all of the others, and was receiving the same answers. The good news was that the narrative of what had happened – as far as what they could learn - was being stitched together.
The bad news was that none of them knew what it meant.
All contact with Mars had been cut. No one knew if anyone left on the planet was still alive. Ares One, the warships, the outposts, there was no communication whatsoever. The Traveler, as it was called, was still in the same place it had been, but for all they knew it was planning to leave or attack them.
And yet, Clovis wasn't assuming the worst yet. It still wasn't hostile…presumably. It could have probably killed all of them, and yet it had just sent them back. Now that he'd seen the aftermath, the worst fears of himself and the rest of the Triumvirate had been realized. Namely, that they didn't truly stand a chance against this thing. Not a legitimate one.
It was going to be a very, very thin, very dangerous, line they would have to walk.
A fine line between taking what the alien offered, treating it well, and deciding to handle it later. Perhaps when they were on more even footing. Right now they posed no threat, and the alien knew that. It had to. Predicting what it did next was impossible right now; but something which was possible was figuring out who was left – and who had been chosen.
Luka walked up beside him and cleared his throat. "[General Secretary, he's here,]"
Upon hearing that, Clovis turned away and walked with him towards the sealed room where he was to be briefed. "[Any change in the Traveler's position?]"
"[No, General Secretary,]" Luka coughed. "[Still in orbit. But there has been a development. Several images that were taken from telescopes and satellites seem to indicate that the outposts are still on-planet, but that the ships themselves are gone.]"
Clovis blinked, though didn't pause his pace. "[Gone?]"
"[As in they are no longer in orbit. We can find no trace of debris. It's unknown if they were destroyed or moved.]"
Clovis briefly closed his eyes, followed by a brief shake of his head. "[Wonderful. Exactly what we need right now. This must be recent if you're just telling me now.]"
"[Very recent. Ten minutes ago.]"
"[I'll handle that after this.]"
They opened the door to the small conference room, where Hayden Fox, Director of the Triumvirate Intelligence Service waited. Clovis considered him an admirable figure; a person who firmly believed in the Triumvirate and the world that was to be built. Anyone who held such a position should, and it was fortunate that he had an ideological ally.
"General Secretary, thank you," Fox shook his hand, as they approached, as well as Luka's.
"I should be thanking you, Director," Clovis said. "You've been working tirelessly. You look a bit paler, I hope you're treating yourself well?"
"A few long days won't kill me, but I appreciate the concern," Fox waved off, though it was true that his already-pale skin seemed whiter; though perhaps that was the light. What was not the light were the circles under his eyes or the weariness in them. Since they'd lost contact with Mars, every single intelligence service had been working around the clock to find out who had been returned, who was missing, and what that could mean.
But the most pressing question in the minds of everyone who was being informed was who the five people who had been chosen to speak to the Traveler were. Clovis knew most of the names now, but of those, only one with any concrete knowledge. "You have been able to identify the selected individuals?"
"Correct," Fox laid out a small stack of pictures. "I'll do a brief overview of what you already know. It's been corroborated through numerous eyewitnesses that five individuals were seemingly selected at random by the Traveler to speak. None of them seemed to be expecting it, and were willing to defer to their superiors. This was refused by the Traveler and resulted in multiple personnel being returned to Earth. The question, obviously, is who these individuals are, and why they may have been selected."
He separated the first picture. "First identified individual – Valentin Kozhukhov. Currently a Cosmonaut, one with a commendable service record and no history of misconduct or disloyalty. KGB records have nothing outstanding on him. His past is similarly clean; his family were agricultural workers, who grew up poor in Russia. Despite this, the Kozhukhovs maintain full allegiance to the Soviet state, and the 'desire to serve the Motherland' is something Valentin specifically cited when applying for the Cosmonauts."
"An ideal Soviet," Clovis frowned, thinking something didn't add up. "Outside of his immediate family, any others he is close to?"
"Two others who were selected, actually," Fox confirmed. "Fang Sov and Liana Collens. We will get to them shortly. The point being that there is nothing which indicates why he would be selected by an alien. Director Ulyanin may disagree, but the KGB has not relayed any concerns they had towards him."
Luka nodded. "If anything, is this a positive development. He is reliable."
"Noted. Who are the others?"
"Fang Sov," Fox separated the second picture. "Taikonaut, close friend of Valentin. He is obviously part of the Sov family, one of the most influential power brokers in the Communist Party."
"I'm aware of the Sovs," Clovis recalled. "Few families hold seats on the Politburo itself. Still fewer have the ear of the President."
"Exactly," Fox confirmed. "Fang is extremely well-connected. He wasn't assigned to Ares One purely out of familial connections – he is a skilled Taikonaut, but he is politically untouchable in China, and of all of the selected individuals, has the most exterior influence."
"Why is he a Taikonaut?" Clovis wondered. "Few in the elite families would choose a role like that."
"Supposedly he did not care for the politics, and wanted to serve his country more tangibly," Fox elaborated. "Something his family supported him in, since they saw it as a means to expand their own influence into the Imperial space program. Even if he isn't involved deeply in the Communist Party, he was certainly raised as an elite."
"Curious that he is friends with Valentin," Luka noted. "Their socioeconomic backgrounds are vastly different."
"It is possible he was unaware of Valentin's past," Fox said with a shrug. "Or he lacks prejudice against lower classes. I suspect it would be different if Valentin was not Russian. It is unlikely that he would associate with a lower class Chinese individual on the same level."
"With this context, I can see why the Traveler may be interested in him," Clovis mused. "A man with connections directly to one of the most powerful Chinese families, who has the ear of the President. His inclusion makes sense. Whatever the Traveler would want to say, it can be sure it would reach the highest levels of the Chinese."
"Correct, and we reached a similar conclusion," Fox confirmed. "As did the Ministry of State Security."
"Continue, then."
"Liana Collens," the third picture was separated. "United States Space Force, Infantrywoman. Similar to Valentin in that she is largely unremarkable. She grew up in the States, so she is a full-blooded patriotic American. Her family is from a middle class socioeconomic background, with a history of military service, most of which was in South America."
"Such a wonderful period of American history."
"Quite, but the woman herself is no one special. She's fairly intelligent based on military testing, but no genius. She was on track for steady promotion, and has a history of good conduct. Nothing alarming or out of the ordinary."
"What is her relationship to Valentin?"
"Friends. Not romantic to our knowledge. They met around the same time as Valentin met Fang, though the latter is only tangibly acquainted."
Clovis nodded. "So another person with no obvious reason why she'd be chosen."
"Unfortunately not."
"Continue."
"Milya Mihaylova," Fox indicated the fourth picture. "The Chief Linguist of Ares One, on loan from India. Extremely talented, recommended by President Gopal himself, no history of misconduct, and ever a professional."
"Is she Hindu?"
Luka snorted at the comment. "Of course not. She's a born-again Zionist," he rolled his eyes. "Of course she's a Hindu!"
"It was just a question," Clovis said dryly, raising his hands. "I'm trying to learn if there's anything unusual about her."
"From what we've found, very little," Fox shook his head. "Truthfully, a linguist makes complete sense for speaking to an entity like this – were it not for the fact that this alien could communicate perfectly already. She was unnecessary, and despite her recommendation from the President, she's not someone who holds significant influence anywhere in the Indian government."
"Did she know any of the others?"
"Only one – and we'll get to him."
Luka appraised the image. "I don't suppose the Indians have some insight?"
"Their best guess was her linguistic background which is plausible, but as mentioned, it's debatable how useful that is if communication is already flawless."
"Let's move onto the last one," Clovis said. "One I incidentally know the least about."
"Jacob Milton," unlike the other images, this one was a lower-resolution one, as if taken from a security camera. "Perhaps the individual of greatest concern. Largely because we don't actually know who he is."
Clovis furrowed his brow. "How?"
"That is a very good question," Fox said slowly. "But a recurring theme in each of the debriefs is that this man is someone who is very nebulous. Some said he was CIA, others that he was maintenance, others that they had no idea. He interacted very little with anyone, and no one seemed to question what he was doing."
Fox opened a file. "According to the manifest, he was a CIA operative. The only issue is that there is no record of a "Jacob Milton" in CIA records, confirmed by the CIA themselves. Nor is 'Jacob Milton' affiliated with any other American intelligence agency. This has led me to conclude that Ares One was infiltrated by an unknown third party."
Clovis was legitimately stunned by the revelation. "That should not be possible," he said in amazement. "Who could possibly…" he trailed off, his eyes narrowing. "Israel."
"More likely this is one of the Ayatollah's people," Fox amended. "Though I suppose it is one and the same. But we reached a similar conclusion. Only the Ayatollah has the motivation to attempt something like this, and he has enough operatives to attempt it. Both the ethnicity and age match, since this man was described as middle-aged and Arabic."
"For what purpose though?" Luka wondered. "These terrorists rarely perform operations like 'infiltration'. Sabotage is more in-character."
"This is unfounded, but the current speculation is that they also wanted to get to the alien," Fox said. "Perhaps to talk directly with it. I don't know how they thought that would happen, but this is a desperate group, and they might feel there is nothing to lose."
"Still, that raises troubling questions about our security that the manifest was able to be edited," Clovis said slowly. "And since it was a Triumvirate-wide project, the gaps could be anywhere."
"Probably India or China," Luka grunted.
"Should the Triumvirate agree, and I believe they should, we stand ready to find the source of this vulnerability and quash it," Fox promised, ever the diplomat. "The more concerning question I personally have, General Secretary, is what the alien wants with him. Or what his interest in Milya is, since she was someone who he spoke with quite frequently on Mars."
"Did she know who he was?"
"His cover story no doubt. The chances that she was aware of his true identity are close to zero."
Clovis rubbed his forehead, thinking. "One member from each Triumvirate nation was selected – and an outlier who represents those who still resists us. That cannot be a coincidence."
"Very unlikely," Fox agreed. "But there is another component I'm certain we are missing. It cannot be as simple as that."
"I don't know," Clovis crossed his arms. "Is there anything that can be drawn from those who were sent back, and those who remained on Mars?"
"That is ongoing, but currently, no," Fox confirmed. "We know who is here, and who is not. We are also cross-checking with agencies and organizations to see if there were any additional infiltrators on Ares One and later launches. I can confirm that almost the entirety of Ares Ones command, with the exception of Admiral Holliday, were sent back, along with a majority of military personnel."
"Perhaps it didn't want to be threatened?" Luka wondered.
"Considering that it instantly moved several thousand people between Mars and Earth in the blink of an eye, do you truly think it is threatened?" Clovis asked dryly. "No, there is something else here. Keep Luka and myself informed on any possible answers."
"Certainly," Fox put the pages and pictures back into one pile. "While I understand it is not my place, General Secretary, I would encourage you and the Triumvirate to address this…incident as soon as possible. This entire situation has many rattled, and people appearing out of nowhere all around the world is raising tensions. I would prefer that violence not break out."
"I will be working on it," Clovis promised. "I presume you are giving similar briefings after me?"
"I've given one to the Chinese Politburo so far," Fox said. "President Quinn and her cabinet will be next, followed by a personal meeting with Gopal. I hope these will be concluded within the next few days so the Triumvirate can coordinate a response."
That was good to hear – and it would give him something of a head start in containing the worst of the panic. China was not handling the outbreak of panic ideally, which provided the Soviet Union an ample opportunity to showcase how it was done. Provided all of his people executed their jobs correctly.
"Thank you for your time, Director," the three men stood, and shook hands again. "And convey my direct thanks to your people."
"Of course, General Secretary," Fox inclined his head. "I hope to provide you with clearer answers soon."
OASIS | MARS
Isaiah sat himself down on the ledge which overlooked the small Oasis which was a moderate distance from the now-landed Ares One. A pleasant wind blew, and the sounds of the water flowing were soothing to the ear. Alien, yet familiar. The trees were distinctly Martian, but the geography reminded him of certain places on Earth.
More importantly, it was a place which was fairly isolated and ideal if he wanted to be alone. The sun had almost set, and everyone was either on Ares One – working to strip it with the Ghosts – or going to sleep. Routines and shifts had been broken completely since they'd emerged.
After all, what really mattered at this point? Who were they protecting themselves from? The Traveler was clearly strong enough to take care of all of them, and considering Mars had been a dead rock before she'd began changing it, the only threats would come from her own hand, and to their knowledge, wildlife hadn't been created.
He'd had many, many experiences in his life. Some good, some bad, many intense. Moments of life and death were more common to him than veteran soldiers. He thought he was at a point in his life where he just didn't care what happened to anything beyond the cause. The war had become revenge, perhaps because he realized that was the best they could strive for.
Could the Triumvirate really fall? Perhaps.
If he was being honest with himself, it was unlikely. Oh, for sure he'd told the recruits otherwise; even his most optimistic appraisal was pessimistic, but it had given some hope that there was a chance. It was so convincing he had believed it himself. Now it seemed like things were clearer, he could look at things in a more objective light.
Or maybe he was entering into a downward spiral.
Or he was just confused.
Nothing – absolutely nothing – had been able to compare with what he had experienced in that vision. He'd had multiple conversations with Hamaza and Father Ryan, and something which he'd always wondered and been skeptical of that been visions; of which there'd been many in the Bible and Quran respectively. Hallucinations seemed like the most likely explanation for many of them, because how could they know what they experienced was divine.
Be careful what you want to know, you just might learn.
Because now he understood; understood far more intimately than he had ever wanted to know. The Traveler may not be a 'god' in the traditional sense, but it was certainly otherworldly; it was beyond comprehension, it was beyond explanation. It was Divine in the truest sense of the word.
That unnerved him.
Perhaps scared him.
For so long he'd been dismissive of such concepts. Faiths in a higher power. Miracles. Feats which defied explanation. They were impossible; they went against science and reason. Too many people who'd fooled themselves into thinking there was something out there, when the reality was a cold, ruthless universe.
But now he'd seen.
There was something else out there.
Maybe not in the way those people imagined, but he had seen it. He had experienced it. His mind had seen something it was simply not meant to; things which defied the three-dimensional confines of reality. He'd seen it, and couldn't deny what it meant. It raised so many questions and threatened to upend a lot of things he'd come to believe.
For once, he wished the elder Ayatollah was around. Figured that the one time he wanted to talk he was literally another planet away.
The last rays of the sun faded and the bright stars of the galaxy lit the sky. There were so many, and it was quite beautiful. No pollution of the skies, so he had an unrestricted view of them. The air was growing colder, but it was nothing compared to the Sahara at night. It was a good place to think; maybe sort himself out.
He pulled out the small bottle of beer. Not once had he experienced something where it seemed like drinking was a legitimate reaction, but if seeing the death of the universe didn't apply, nothing did. Popping the top of it off, he wondered just where all of them went from here.
None of them could pretend like things could go back to normal. Not after seeing that. He felt like the only one who'd understood at least more than a vague impression of the vision was the Valentin man, and the others had been in various stages of overwhelmed. Milya had held up in the beginning, but even she'd slowly become more of an observer.
The Traveler seemed to have singled out Valentin. He wondered why.
He didn't belong with the small group. It was tiring to maintain the façade of his loyalties. All of them talking about how they were going to explain this to Commander this, and Administrator that, and he was just wondering how he was going to get back without being captured. By now the Triumvirate knew that someone was on Ares One who shouldn't have been, and they'd be waiting.
He hated competent opponents.
Thought oddly enough, he didn't really feel in danger. Maybe it was because he felt the Traveler was watching over him, or maybe because he would come up with a brilliant escape plan. One of the two, though most likely the former.
Huh, maybe this is what faith feels like.
He took a long swig of the beer.
And immediately spat it back out.
Ah yes, the reason he didn't drink was because he utterly hated the taste of anything alcoholic.
And as it turned out, seeing the end of the universe didn't make the taste better.
"[It appears that you dislike that drink.]" The Ghost which had become something of a watcher over him materialized in front of him.
The voice has become more natural-sounding since they'd first 'met', and its fins angled towards him, as if focusing with the eye glowing brightly. He still wasn't fully sure what to make of the machine, but he didn't hold the initial mistrust. "[Because I do,]" he answered. "[I hate alcohol.]"
She sounded puzzled. "[But you brought it.]"
"[It's…]" He wondered if he was really going to bother explaining a concept like 'drinking' to a machine which could literally create things out of thin air. "[It's a thing humans do to make themselves not think about things.]"
"[Oh,]" her fins twirled. "[What do you want to forget? Not me, I hope.]"
Despite himself, he snorted. "[In general, I don't like forgetting at all. Ah, it's…I don't know what I was thinking. Seeing the end of the everything isn't something I experience everyday.]"
"[Few can experience the true nature of the Traveler; you comprehended more than most.]"
"[Wonderful. Almost wish I hadn't.]" He sighed, and put the bottle to the side. "[But since you're here, and in a talkative mood, let's talk.]"
"[You can talk to me anytime. I've been beside you the whole time.]"
Isaiah raised an eyebrow. "[Doing what? Watching me?]"
"[You seem like you could use it.]"
"[Normally, I'd take offense, but I'll accept it this time.]"
"[But what do you want to talk about?]"
He clasped his hands together, and looked very intently at the machine. "[Let's be honest with each other, yes? What do you really know about me and what I am?]"
The Ghost bobbed in the air slightly. "[Someone who's experienced great pain and loss at the behest of the Triumvirate. Someone whose only desire had been to destroy which has destroyed him.]"
He pursed his lips. "[More poetic than I'd have put it. You know what I am. So why include me in that group? The Traveler isn't going to cast down the Triumvirate; that seems clear at this point.]"
"[It depends on what they do,]" the Ghost said. "[There have been many species which have found a road to redemption; when they realized that their petty, destructive conflicts meant nothing in the face of the Darkness. Species who have committed far worse crimes than the Triumvirate ever has.]"
He did believe what the Ghost was saying, but he still shook his head. "You haven't met the Triumvirate. If you help them; if she helps them, you're not going to be saving us, you'll just be ensuring many, many people die.]"
"[She will not let that happen.]"
"[Oh?]" He asked skeptically. "[Where exactly is the line drawn? What threshold is too far? If what they've already done isn't enough, then what is left?]" He gave a hard chuckle. "[I guess they've already won.]"
"[And what would you prefer?]" The Ghost challenged. "[That she cast down the Triumvirate and declare herself a ruler of your species? Is that what you wish to see happen?]"
"[No, that's…]" he scowled. "[That's an exaggeration, and you know it.]"
"[And you know that a solution is not so simple,]" the Ghost said. "[What is preferable, Isaiah? That the Triumvirate is destroyed? Or that is willingly changes when it sees what it faces? It is not the way of the Traveler, nor her kind, to dictate the path a species takes. She will be their guide and protector, but not their ruler.]"
Isaiah pinched the bridge of his nose. "[She has more faith than I do that the Triumvirate can change. I've fought them for…decades now. I've seen their rise and how they've held onto power. How they use it. People like that don't just…change.]"
"[Change will come,]" the Ghost promised softly, moving a bit closer to his face. "[You have been without faith for so long, and now you remember what it is like. Put that faith in her. If only for a little while.]"
"[And do what in the meantime?]" Isaiah motioned around. "[What am I supposed to tell the Resistance? Stop fighting? Have faith that she'll make the Triumvirate change? They didn't see what I did. I do believe that she'll try, I do, but in the meantime? They're not going to stop hunting us and killing us. Because we defy them.]"
"[I cannot tell you to stop,]" she said. "[But I am asking you to trust her; trust the people she has selected. They were chosen because of who they are; men and women who are capable of compassion and kindness. Who believe that the Triumvirate can be better. Now, for the first time, these people will be listened to.]"
He'd wondered if that was the case. "[She's an idealist, isn't she?]"
"[It is better to see the best in a people, instead of the worst.]"
"[I wish I had your optimism,]" he glanced back to the bottle. Next time he'd fill it with something that didn't taste like sewage. The feeling of taking a drink with none of the downsides. "[You obviously know I can't let myself be arrested. They likely know who I am now – or at least who I'm not.]"
"[I will keep you safe, do not worry.]"
"[I appreciate it…]" he trailed off. "[Do you have a name?]"
"[I have been given a numerical designation,]" she said. "[Though 'names' are not generally bestowed upon us.]"
"[Really?]"
"[Ghosts as you call us, are not always so conversational with those we work with. Many species simply use us as tools, or to provide them with useful information. Your species is somewhat unique, as many of you have treated us individually despite our synthetic nature and programming.]"
It hadn't really occurred to him that he was probably speaking to something which was essentially a floating ball of metal with a smart machine intelligence. Still…"[You have a voice and personality,] he shrugged. "[It'd be odd to treat you as a brainless tool. So you need a name. Do you have a preference?]"
"[I do not.]"
"[Fine,]" he paused, glancing upwards. A few possibilities ran through his mind, but one them sounded better than the others. "[Sagira.]"
The Ghost warbled and her fins twirled. "[I like it. Designation accepted.]"
"[Glad you think so.]"
"[Where did it come from, if I can ask?]"
"[You can probably guess what it means, but where it came from…]" he trailed off briefly. "[There was a friend I had in Australia. A very optimistic, energetic woman. Annoying sometimes, but we got along. I didn't realize how much I missed her until she died.]" He looked to the Ghost. "[I'll do my best to make sure you don't meet her fate.]"
The eye flashed as if blinking. "[And I will do my best not to be annoying.]"
"[I can work with that.]"
There were a few moments of silence.
"[Are you going to head back? You appear to be tired.]"
"[Not yet, Sagira. But soon,]" he looked up into the stars; at the unseen conflict he now knew was raging throughout the galaxy. "[Very soon.]"
TERRA ONE ASSEMBLY AREA | MARS
Slowly but surely, the starship to take them home was taking shape. It was, Fang reflected, something which he wouldn't have contemplated at the beginning of this mission, but it made him very optimistic for the future. It had been slow going at first, as the engineers hadn't known where to start building a legitimate advanced starship.
One with jump drives that were said to take them from Mars to Earth in under and hour. Impossible, so many claimed, until the Ghosts produced schematics from the vast memory banks within the Traveler showing that not only was it possible to do, it was actually feasible. Many a mind had been blown at the revelation.
Fang was not an engineer, but those who were had asked for a few formulae from the Ghosts to prove or disprove that these jump drives were legitimate, and when they were, they'd immediately began brainstorming how best to implement them. Several weeks of putting together a working schematic, determining the materials, and utilizing the Ghost's capabilities to act as a supercomputer, and now construction was finally starting.
The controlled disassembly of Ares One and the warships was taking place in earnest. Only non-critical parts were being disassembled at the start, with crew quarters, food supply, and kitchen all being left alone since a large portion of the people now on Mars were still staying there.
They fortunately had enough food to last for a very long time, even longer than originally planned since only about a third of the original crew remained. Some of them had started experimenting with growing food on Mars, which seemed to be taking root, amazingly enough. Of course, none of them were technically in any danger since, in theory, the Traveler could manifest anything she desired, but none of them wanted to push their luck.
He was near one of the construction sites now, where the jump drive was being build, while the hull of the ship was being assembled a bit further away. In the absence of most tools, the Ghosts were functioning as a multi-purpose unit, from moving large pieces into place, transmutating materials into other materials (something that they'd not bothered to explain to anyone yet), and welding them in place – all when not serving as computers for the engineers to run their many, many calculations.
A half-dozen other smaller sites were set up around the jump drive one, mostly serving as testbeds for various components of the ship derived from the knowledge the Traveler had provided. Fang couldn't recall any of the science teams ever being this excited about something before.
If this was just the start, he wondered if they were going to finally enter a golden age of Humanity.
At least for a while.
The darkness he'd seen weighed heavily on him. By the time the vision had begun proper, it had begun to get overwhelming, where he could see and understand some of what was happening in the abstract, but the voice speaking in his mind had been a mixture of language he could understand and pure gibberish.
Valentin had explained all of it afterwards, and it had made far more sense. It was also very, very scary to consider. None of them believed the Traveler was lying, or if she was, it was the most convincing lie they'd ever seen. Not to mention she had no reason to do so. It wasn't as though they could do much to stop or threaten her.
He did wonder what would happen next.
There were so many possibilities.
Would the Triumvirate realize the severity of what was coming? They had to. Fortunately his family had significant pull, and for once he felt inclined to use it. If there was ever a time to push for them to do something, it was when literally everything was threatened. The most difficult thing would be convincing them that what he was saying actually wasn't a drug-induced nightmare.
Well, they'd seen what the Traveler could do. Perhaps that would abate some of the coming skepticism.
A short distance away he saw Valentin standing with Admiral Holliday as they were before a larger group of Ghosts, almost certainly discussing how the starship development was going. Even if Holliday was technically in charge, Valentin had stepped into a leadership role quite easily. Beyond the one Ghost that had been assigned to him, the other Ghosts seemed willing to listen to him.
He managed that aspect, while Holliday kept the rest of the people in line. Valentin had changed from the encounter, there was no question of that. But it was, Fang believed, for the better. He was more confident now, more willing to be assertive when it counted, and interestingly, more optimistic.
The Traveler seemed to have made him an unofficial voice in a way. He'd understood more of the vision than any of the others, the Ghosts responded to him, and he'd set the direction they had taken after the ships had been teleported down. If anyone could discern what the Traveler intended, it was him.
Or maybe it wasn't and all of them were confused, but they had nothing else to go on.
Speaking of Ghosts…
"[You can come out of hiding,]" he said. "[I know you're there.]"
The red-colored Ghost materialized in front of him in a blue flash. Everyone after they'd returned had soon found themselves with a personal Ghost companion. Or observer, depending on how one looked at it. There were still an unknown number of Ghosts, but certainly enough for each of them.
Fang hadn't entirely been comfortable with the drone at first, but over the past weeks, it'd actually not been terrible. It seemed to know when he wanted it around, and when he didn't. Many times it didn't feel like it was around at all, but whenever he needed it, it appeared right in front of him.
Hence why he called it Shadow. Something always around, but not always visible or obvious. The Ghost had also modified his shell slightly, something Fang had inquired about. It looked better in red, and he felt like his personal observer having the colors of the Empire would make a better first impression.
"[You appeared to be deep in thought,]" Shadow spoke, a male voice which now held a high-class Chinese accent, something he hadn't exactly specified, but that the Ghost had naturally tailored over time. He didn't exactly know how the Ghost knew this, but it wasn't bad.
"[Yes, I was, but I can't stay that way forever,]" Fang grunted. "[You've never explained how you appear and disappear like that. Some kind of cloaking?]"
The fins of the Ghost briefly detached and returned as if surprised. For a bunch of mechanical drones with static architecture, the Ghosts were incredibly expressive. "[Nothing so crude? I merely fold space-time to return to the Traveler, and return when needed. Or 'teleportation' if you prefer.]"
Fang rubbed his eyes. "[I don't feel like asking if that 'space-time' comment was a joke or not. But teleporting makes sense.]"
"[Indeed,]" Shadow's fins inclined forward. "[I anticipate that construction of Terra One will finish within several weeks. And then you will be back on Earth.]" It twitched. "[I have seen images, though I look forward to seeing it for myself.]"
"[It is beautiful,]" he agreed. "[It's funny. I haven't really been back to Earth in years. I was only sent back just to board Ares One, and then I was back in space.]"
"[Where were you before?]"
"[Stationed on the Moon,]" he explained. "[Was there for quite some time, relatively speaking. I enjoyed it, don't get me wrong, but I do miss China. Being here has reminded me that. Like Earth, but just…not the same.]"
"[I can understand that,]" the fins twirled. "[Though I am only a recent creation, and have not known much beyond the Traveler's embrace. I have found the exterior to be quite intimidating, but also exciting.]"
"[Good to know even machines have the spirit of adventure,]" Fang smiled. "[I hope everything works out in the end.]"
"[You do not believe it will?]"
"[I don't know. My government is…flawed, you could say. One reason I preferred staying on the Moon for a time. But maybe now that can change. Things cannot stay the same; not with what we saw.]"
"[You were chosen by her for a reason,]" the Ghost reminded him. "[You can speak to your people what they need to hear.]"
"[Let's hope her faith isn't misplaced,]" he said, before turned as he saw one of the engineers coming up to him, one of the Ghosts hovering over her shoulder.
"Sov!"
"Yes?"
"We've finished one of the piloting module simulations," she briefly explained. "I'd like an expert opinion on how it functions."
"Lead the way," he said, standing and Shadow vanishing once again as he fell into step behind the woman. Break time over, there was a lot that still had to be done.
TERRA ONE OVERLOOK | MARS
The days on Mars had been, overall, very pleasant. The Traveler no longer stayed in the same place, but had returned to finishing her work on the new Mars. Now much of the land was appropriately covered in vegetation, natural landscapes, and had even fallen into weather patterns, such as heavy rainstorms.
Once she was done here, she would move to the next planet. Valentin didn't know which one, but he did know that she would be aware of how things progressed in her stead. She had no need to go directly to Earth when her chosen speakers would convey the message she had brought. Them, as well as the Ghosts.
Overlooking the finished Terra One, Valentin was struck at how far they'd come in a matter of weeks. Granted, they'd had access to machines and resources which could be created on a whim and pieced together with otherworldly quickness, but it was still something which amazed him.
It wasn't just Terra One which had been built. The Outposts which had been established had been similarly fortified and redesigned with the help of the Ghosts. Whenever the Triumvirate returned, they would find outposts all ready to go, with some of the Ghosts promising to keep an eye on things.
At his request. The unassigned Ghosts were receptive to him. He was surprised the Traveler was willing to give him even this limited authority. Perhaps she trusted him not to overstep his bounds, of which he was careful to do. Even if he was selected by her for some purpose, it did no good to abuse that trust.
The ship was far smaller than Ares One had been, and more reminiscent of the sleek wing designs of popular science fiction than the cylindrical, bulky rockets of Orion. This ship didn't have to worry about things like months of food and fuel storage, nor were the materials the same as those on Earth, but a composite alloy augmented by the Ghosts.
No doubt the Triumvirate would immediately dry and determine the exact molecular composition when they got their hands on it. It was still a large ship for sure, but one primarily designed for transport, not long-term travel. One he'd had a large hand in completing. Amanda had been very helpful through the entire process, and was far better at organizing the actual people than he was.
She hadn't achieved her rank for nothing.
"It's quite impressive," Liana said beside him. "You did good work."
"Not just me, everyone."
She snorted. "I can't say I did much more than test out some of the hull durability…by shooting it."
He chuckled. "Every little bit helps."
"I guess so."
He waited a few moments. "Are you sleeping better?"
She shifted in place. "Better, yes. Thanks for asking. The nightmares still come but…" she waved a hand vaguely. "I mostly forget the details when I wake up. Just the existential dread of the end of everything left, and I'm almost used to that now."
Of all of them, Liana had been the one who'd suffered some negative effects from the vision…or at least some unique ones. It ranged from her unexpectedly spacing out, to having horrific formless nightmares, to feeling compulsion to draw incomprehensible images of things she'd seen or remembered in the Traveler.
The experience had definitely affected her mind. It's been troubling at first, though the Ghosts had assured them that it was something that would pass eventually, and that it was completely normal. It had indeed subsided over the weeks, though Valentin really didn't like seeing her go through it. But there was nothing that could really be done.
Their minds had seen things that were not meant to be seen.
He doubted she would want to return, if ever given the opportunity.
"Is he helping you?"
"Mike? Definitely." She said, holding out a hand, and the Ghost which had been assigned to her materialized, looking up at him almost like a puppy. It was colored blue and white, colors of the Space Force and not surprising that Liana had given it her own look. Though the name she'd given to it would always be amusing.
"I am available whenever she needs to talk," the Ghost said, it's voice so uniquely odd in its deepness and suave baritone. The voice was the reason she'd given it the name, saying it was almost exactly like one of her old drill instructors. Given how the voice sounded, he wasn't surprised it had made an impression on her, and now it was immortalized in a floating magic space ball.
"You talk with yours a lot?" She asked.
"Mine? Quite a lot," he mused. "They're actually good companions. Helpful in a lot of ways, and good listeners."
"Yeah," she rubbed her wrists. "I wonder what they're going to say about the them. About all of this."
"A lot of questions," he mused, glancing at her. "You'll probably have an easier time of it than me. I don't see the KGB liking a lot of what I have to say. Or at least heavily questioning it."
"Admittedly, what we saw would sound crazy but…" she shrugged. "But it isn't. Hopefully all of them will see that."
"Hopefully," he agreed, once more looking down on the ship that would take them home. "I suppose we'll find out, soon enough."
There was a moment of lasting silence. "Everything is going to change when we get back," Liana said slowly. "But what that looks like…I'm not really sure what form it will take."
"With what the Traveler knows?" Valentin wondered. "I suppose we'll learn what the perfect society is. Or at least the one the Triumvirate has in mind for the world."
"I wonder if it'll be one the Traveler will approve of."
"I don't know," he admitted. "But when it happens, I'll know. One way or another."
OFFICE OF THE GENERAL SECRETARY | MOSCOW | SOVIET UNION
Weeks had now passed, and there was still nothing.
In his mind, there were two possibilities.
Well, three if he wanted to entertain an absurd one.
One, all of them were dead. Killed either by the Traveler or they had starved or otherwise perished. That would most easily explain why there had been no contact whatsoever, and why the Traveler hadn't bothered doing anything since then. It was still hovering over Mars, having resumed its terraforming activities in the previous weeks as if there was nothing different.
He was still somewhat skeptical of this because that would indicate a hostility that the Traveler had not completely shown. Yes, she'd sent back a majority of Ares One, but it had been ultimately harmless. If anything was shown by that episode, it was that the alien had a very particular individual she was interested in, though the criteria was still elusive.
Two, they were alive, and were trying to come back. Admittedly a weaker theory because there was no evidence to support it other than the fact that whoever was left would most likely not want to stay on Mars forever. It certainly wasn't as though Ares One was incapable of making a return journey – though since it was gone, maybe they were stuck trying to build something to get back.
It was why the creation of an Ares Rescue had been coming up more and more in recent weeks. Ares One going down could be an explanation for why there'd been no contact. Perhaps the communications array had been too damaged, and the outpost signals were simply too weak. No one was quite willing to write everyone off, but at the same time, they were wary of sending another ship there, especially since the Traveler had almost certainly removed Ares One from the equation. It didn't help that satellites and drones they'd launched to try and get current images of Mars were flat-out rejected by the Traveler, and days later they were found on launch pads. Cloud cover and storms on Mars made it difficult to get even telescope images.
It begged the question of what the Traveler's goal was, assuming they were alive and wanting to come back. Was she holding them hostage? If so, why not make demands? Was she trying to help them get back? If so, why not simply teleport them? There were too many things which didn't make sense.
The third, and by far the most conspiratorial was that they were establishing a non-Triumvirate power on Mars, and were perhaps under the control of the alien. It certainly seemed to have that capability, and the Triumvirate Intelligence investigation had made a proposal which had raised the eyebrows of every intelligence official and head of state.
Namely, that the individuals who remained were perhaps not as reliable as he had originally assumed. While none could doubt they were Triumvirate citizens they were not, strictly speaking, loyal ones. They were not necessarily believers, either in the nation or the Triumvirate they came from.
People who were vulnerable to potentially seeing the Triumvirate as something…less than ideal. People who may be more idealistic than was necessary, or held private beliefs. Multiple background investigations conducted in the weeks had uncovered the uncomfortable truth that these were not necessarily people who should be influenced by an alien power.
Now, that was of course conspiratorial.
But there were several factors that made him, and several others, wonder. The severing of all communication. The people left on the planet had the knowledge and capability to construct new equipment, if not repair existing equipment. The alien had significant powers, or 'paracausality' as the scientists insisted it be referred to as. Telepathic capabilities could be in its repertoire. The alien had also shown no interest in communicating further, and the Ghost sightings had dropped significantly.
But he still couldn't get past the fact that this was far too much theatre for an alien like this to bother with. It seemed pointless, unless the goal was simply to establish another state. But again, why?
It was almost to the point where there were serious talks being had about simply holding a memorial day, making sure no one asked questions, and covertly working on another method to reach Mars and contact the Traveler. It could easily be spun as an accident, and the general public was calming down, since the official story going out was that the team that remained was in contact and negotiations were proceeding.
Lies, but no one had the authority or willingness to challenge the narrative. More stories were planted and coordinated Triumvirate-wide, namely about where the Traveler would go next, what the weather of Mars could be like, and interviews with many of the returned people, who had been elevated to minor celebrities, many of whom seemed much more eager to focus on that, and less about what they'd seen.
Preferable to him. Anything to stop a critical mass of people asking questions right now.
They'd even managed to turn the previously troublesome civilian journalists into an asset, by incentivizing game-like 'Capture that Ghost!' social media hunts, to get any glimpse of where the Traveler may be interested in. A few more similar contests were run by shell companies to gather more obscure information, such as hobbyist astrological images, some of which gathered things state-run observatories did not.
Unfortunately, very little of worth had been acquired.
What to do now…
A knock sounded at his door. He glanced at the time, frowning. No appointments for a few hours yet, which meant that this could signal new information. "[Come in,]" he called, as the door was almost flung open and Luka rushed in.
"[General Secretary,]" he saluted.
"[What is it?]"
"[They're back.]"
Clovis was immediately on his feet. No ambiguity about who 'they' could be. "[Where? How?]"
"[NASA verified these images ten minutes ago, they're being passed to the rest of the Triumvirate,]" he said, opening up the file and spreading several images onto Clovis's desk. It looked like a spacecraft, and it was clearly in orbit, but it definitely was not Ares One. This was much smaller and sleeker; more reminiscent of a wing craft than a long-term spacecraft.
"[Did it appear out of thin air?]" he demanded. "[How did we miss this?]"
"[Based on what NASA is saying, that's literally what happened,]" Luka emphasized. "[It appeared out of nowhere and began approaching Earth before entering into an orbit. It also began broadcasting this message on Space Force frequencies.]"
He held up a phone as the recording played. "To all Triumvirate forces, this is Admiral Amanda Holliday of Ares One. We were of the Mars Expedition to make contact with Enigma One. We are alive and standing by for landing at a designated zone. Repeat, this is Admiral Amanda Holliday, of the Ares One expedition, standing by for landing."
The voice switched to another female one with an Indian accent. "[She repeats the same message in Indian. We are assuming this woman to be Chief Linguist Mihaylova; voice comparison is ongoing. The message is also followed by the same one in Russian and Chinese, likely by Valentin and Sov respectively as both voices were male.]"
"[Has a response been sent?]"
"[No, I brought this directly to you. I was unsure if you wanted to wait for a coordinated Triumvirate response or get them on the ground immediately.]"
"[Get them down!]" Clovis barked. "[And mobilize the Red Legion, KGB, and everyone you can think of wherever they're directed. I want that entire area locked down. We still have that terrorist on board, and no one is leaving that ship until we know exactly what happened. I'll deal with the other heads of state if they have a problem.]"
Luka salute. "[It will be done, General Secretary.]"
Without wasting anymore time, Luka turned on his heel and departed, a phone to his ear as he spoke rapidly; relaying the orders of his superior. Clovis returned to his seat, his fingers instinctively dialing the number of President Quinn.
A spacecraft which had appeared out of nowhere, carrying their missing people.
The time for answers was coming, and Clovis had a feeling that whatever they had to share would change everything. From this point on, there was no going back.
Best that they prepared for the best – and for the worst.
TO BE CONTINUED IN INTERLUDE I | DUALITY
