Chapter 4: How Do You Do, Fellow Androids?
"Aliens?!" I blurted out. Damn me and curse my useless mouth!
The historian's eyes widened in befuddlement before her expression settled somewhere between embarrassed and apologetic.
"I'm so—did I use the wrong word? I was talking about the creatures from outer space that invaded the Earth in the fourth millennium," she said, obviously picking her words.
She really was talking about aliens. Of all the ludicrous— No, this wasn't the time to think about that. I wasn't about to allow my cover story to fail. If she thought there was a translation issue, then there was still a chance to turn this around.
"Ahh, of course," I said, affecting an understanding smile. "The space invaders. I should be the one apologising. The use of 'aliens' in that sense is just so antiquated that it took me a moment to recognise it," I lied.
"What's the term you would usually use?" she asked.
Oh blast. I chuckled to buy myself some time while my mind raced.
"Oh, I call them… bogos… binted."
Bogosbinted? I could have slapped myself. Was it so difficult to come up with a synonym, or even a real word?
"I see. I'll make note of it!" she smiled. "This is just such an incredible experience. I've never heard a dialect quite like yours. The vowel shifts are so unique, and the way you've dropped your leading labial-velar approximants is— Oh, I'm rambling. But please, I welcome you to use your own words. It's such a learning experience!"
Her grateful enthusiasm was so blindingly bright that even my trained heart of stone felt a pang of guilt.
"No, no, I think from now on I should use the term 'aliens' as well. It's quaint. I quite like the sound of it," I said.
"Cultural exchange in action." The girl grinned down at me and gave me two thumbs up.
"Ha, haha…"
I returned them, guilt not at all alleviated. I decided then and there that if these androids became hostile one day, I would kill Forsythia last.
And speaking of androids, that had been a revelation. I had been under the impression that the inhabitants of the camp were augmented humans. Like less visually offensive Grineer. That had only lasted until I met the first few 'cyborgs' who could speak Common, or at least an antiquated dialect of it.
When the fisherwoman, Mertensia, I now knew, had first brought me into the camp she dumped me on some redheads. Just left me with them and then walked away.
Worse yet, the people whose care she left me in were apparently the pariahs of the camp. Taking charge of me was evidently considered such a burden that it was being used as bullying material.
That had been a shock. I thought Mertensia and I were getting along swimmingly. We'd even been holding hands the whole way. I guess she was just the type who was happy to hold hands with anyone, because she left the camp the same way we came the very moment I was somebody else's problem.
Blame me for my expectations, I guess. Yuya hadn't commented at least, which was how I was sure that she hadn't realised what I was thinking. Yuya would never pass on such a chance to laugh at my dignity's expense.
"So, I understand that aliens invaded," I said. "This camp appears to stand though, so obviously the conquest wasn't entirely successful."
At any rate, the red-headed twins had been able to understand me, and had in turn foisted me onto Forsythia, the historian and archeologist of this little group, after passing her two small chips.
I had been a little alarmed when the short-haired girl popped half her skull off and inserted one into her head, but that made more sense after it did its job. As it turned out, it had been a language chip, and nobody in the camp was human. She had offered me one as well, which I accepted with the explanation that I would install it after I got my bearings.
Now intelligible to me, Forsythia assured me that they occasionally had 'old androids' like me wander into camp.
That said, survivors as 'exceptionally old' as me were extraordinarily rare, apparently.
Forsythia led me through a standard orientation course that helpfully included a history of the last few millennia. The millennia I had 'missed'. It was abbreviated, but the full records were publicly accessible and I was free to peruse them at the terminals at my leisure, she explained.
As she ran through the years, I learned that all other humans had been forced into hiding on Lua at some point. The location was a zealously guarded secret, known only to the final line of logistics officers responsible for resupplying them. Instead, all the 'augmented humans' in the camp were actually servitors, part of a massive synthetic army battling for control of the Earth. And naturally they assumed I was one of them.
Apparently speaking Common placed me as being from the fourth millennium, contemporaneous with the 'Human Heritage Restoration Organisation', the short-lived 'Human Heritage Research Committee' it had taken over from, or perhaps even predating both.
It was now the twelfth millennium.
Well. At least it made my 'memory loss' easy to explain.
Forsythia assured me that I was positively pristine and didn't look a year over a hundred despite 'my venerable age', and I wasn't sure whether to be flattered or not. I did appreciate veneration, but considering it was an unaging robot speaking, perhaps she was referring to my state of dishevelment.
"It's been close. The aliens appeared without warning and launched a simultaneous attack on android population centres all across the globe. The opening hours of the war were characterised by confusion and disorganised resistance from the androids," Forsythia said matter-of-factly. "Android factories in the Americas were repurposed over the next few years to produce their Machine weapons, and despite massive casualties on both sides, alien control of the planet only increased in the millennia after."
Seemingly realising something, her tone shifted to something more sympathetic when she continued. "Although android numbers recovered after the first attack, I'm sorry to say that losses to the androids alive at the onset of the invasion were catastrophic. Casualties were recorded as upwards of ninety-nine point nine percent across all android factions."
"Factions?" I looked up at her curiously. "Within the Human Heritage Restoration Organisation?"
Forsythia's eyes widened before her face turned pinched. I blinked in confusion as she wrung her hands.
"I was hoping to avoid the topic, but not all androids remained loyal after Humanity went into seclusion and feigned their own extinction," she explained with visible reluctance. "Backtracking to the fourth millennium, a few centuries before the aliens invaded, there was a war of ideologies. Those that turned their backs on Humanity retreated to the Australian continent."
She cringed before continuing.
"It was decided not to pursue them."
Forsythia waited a moment, apprehension written on her face.
I looked at her blankly. Was that the end of the tale?
A few moments passed before her shoulders slumped in relief.
"There are stories about androids from your time reacting to that extremely poorly," she explained, scratching her head apologetically. Goodness, these androids really were indistinguishable from humans. I had to remind myself not to stare.
"Ah, er, yes. Humanity is very good," I said belatedly. "Traitors are very bad."
"Yes, they are." She nodded. "Still, I'm glad that you're taking the news so calmly. I suppose I have the memory loss to thank," she laughed.
"I'm just very steady and mature," I disagreed.
Forsythia dusted her pants off with a sigh.
"It's such a shame you don't remember more of the fourth millennium, though. What it must have been like to have lived amongst the humans."
"Oh yes," I agreed. "Terrible shame I remember nothing. It must have been glorious."
The two of us shared a wistful sigh, less genuine on my part, before we broke into giggles.
"So the remaining humans all live in secret on the moon now, but they were hiding on Earth before that. How did that happen?"
Forsythia nodded dutifully. "Before the alien invasion they were living in hidden enclaves due to the actions of a terrorist group named 'Nears Friends', but when the aliens attacked in the sixth millennium they evacuated to a lunar shelter for their safety. It's sadly where humans have been living ever since."
"Until we clear the Earth of the alien forces, at least?" I confirmed.
"That's right." The historian brushed her hair behind her ear and stood straighter. "That's why we're here on the Earth, doing our best. Humans are much frailer than we androids are, so their real home is too dangerous for them right now."
"I wonder what life on the Moon is like," I said leadingly. It was fitting that the humans in this timeline had also moved their government to Lua, if for wildly different reasons.
Forsythia's hair fluttered as shook her head at me. I privately marvelled at how real the hair looked. The light reflected off and refracted through it in just the right manner. Surely it wasn't actually lab grown human hair?
"All information pertaining to the current status of the Moon colony is heavily classified," warned Forsythia, uncharacteristically serious. "I'm curious too, but it's best not to pry. We don't know what details could allow the Machines to find them."
Smiling dutifully, I replied, "I understand. I shall remember that."
Once again I had to suppress the odd sense of guilt I felt when she beamed at me.
"Since the first war we've been through numerous attempts to reclaim the Earth for mankind, but without much success," she continued. "The eighth, ninth, and tenth Machine Wars were mass build-ups of the Army of Humanity. The idea was to win a single decisive battle, but each one failed. Since then we've moved onto securing smaller strategic victories, and that brings us to the current status quo."
"So what do these aliens look like?" I asked.
I tried to tamper down my own eagerness. Although the situation on this Earth sounded like something out of a science fiction novel, I had yet to see any actual aliens. If I knew anything about humans, the claim that they were extraterrestrials was potentially a cover up for another Archimedean's project gone awry.
"Nobody knows," said Forsythia. Leaning in, she whispered conspiratorially, "Because the Machine Lifeforms are formed from plant cell-like building blocks, rumour has it that the aliens are hiding on the Earth as trees."
I hid my disappointment with an appropriately shocked look. At least the tidbit on the Machines was useful. Did you get that, Yuya? Plant cell-like building blocks.
"I'll never look at a tree the same way again," I lied.
"There's no proof of course, and Anemone hates when we spread baseless rumours, but it would explain where the aliens disappeared to." Forsythia smiled again and placed her hands on her hips. "That's just between us two though, okay?"
I gave her a resolute nod. The whole thing reeked of an urban legend, anyway. My only real takeaway was that it was another example of how incredibly similar to humans these constructs were. Spreading ridiculous rumours amongst each other was nothing if not human. We hadn't detected any Cephalon weaveforms from them, but perhaps these androids shared a conceptual basis with our own artificial sentients, even if the technological specifics were unrelated. Convergent evolution, as it were.
"Circling back, after the first attack by the Aliens, they consolidated their territory in the Americas and began manufacturing specialised war Machines, which is what we've been struggling against for millennia. Meanwhile, what android survivors remained were reorganised into the Army of Humanity and combat models began to be created en masse.
"Despite our best efforts, the loss of initiative due to the surprise invasion would continue to be felt over the next two millennia as human territory was reduced to only 20% of the planet. There have been gains and losses over the years, but human territory has been largely reduced to a fifth of the planet since the eighth millennium."
"And that's where we are now?"
Despite the few Machine Lifeforms I had spotted, it did seem rather peaceful in these parts. That said, if human control had fallen as low as a fifth of the planet, I would have expected for them to be making the most of the land.
Instead, it was largely inhabited, and everything felt sleepy and slothful. I hadn't seen most of the camp yet, but the few glimpses I did manage had suggested a pretty lax pace of life.
Forsythia gave me another shake of the head.
"This camp is located in enemy territory. The Resistance refers to the survivors of previous attempts to wrest Alien-held lands back into humanity's control."
I blinked.
"This is enemy territory?" I asked incredulously. It was positively idyllic.
Plenty of small settlements under Grineer control were peaceful for the most part. Those villagers weren't typically at war with them.
"Ah, you've seen some of the Machines? The passivity is a recent development. This area is actually a combat zone and this camp a forward operating base for the Pacific theatre. During the Eighth Machine War, amongst the targets for recapture was Shibuya." Forsythia held a finger up. "Actually, in the Old World, Shibuya was a major human commercial and financial centre and was home to two of the busiest rail services in all of human—"
I raised a hand and cut in as politely as I could.
"Could we return to the Eighth Machine War and the fact that we're standing in hostile territory?"
She flushed, once again impressing upon me her unnecessarily likeness to humans.
"Sorry. I just get very enthusiastic. A battlegroup of a hundred and sixty androids was deployed to this region with state-of-the-art weaponry, but the Machine Lifeforms quickly adapted. Although the fighting wasn't as fierce here as in other deployments, the Machine forces were still powerful enough to stymie the original objective of recapturing the region."
I nodded thoughtfully.
"And then? After a failure, they bunkered down here?"
"Absolutely correct," she said. "Orders from the Moon were to complete the mission at any cost, but since it was impossible at the time, the surviving androids established forward operating bases in the area to wait for an opportunity."
"And I suppose there have been no such opportunities in roughly two hundred years?" I asked.
"Oh goodness, no," she said. "The original Shibuya mission was completed over a century ago, once our numbers bolstered. Many of the residents of this camp came here after the conclusion of our own descent missions. When we were deemed ineligible for extraction, we were ordered to perform a fighting retreat to this region to await further instructions."
Ah. Come to think of it…
"You did mention that Anemone was only recently appointed as leader," I said.
"You remembered!" she exclaimed cheerily. "That's right. Anemone was deployed during the Eighth Machine War as well, but she was only assigned here recently. Her battlegroup was deployed to Hawaii, led by the late Captain Rose. Judging the mission impossible, Captain Rose requested an evacuation but orders from the Moon insisted that the mission proceed."
I blinked as Forsythia gave me a furtive little glance.
"In what was technically desertion, Captain Rose abandoned the mission completely and led her surviving forces into hiding. According to recently declassified records, they assisted with a top secret mission to destroy a Machine server in Hawaii and the survivors were granted amnesty not too long afterwards."
They chose a deserter to lead their camp…?
I wasn't judging the woman. After all, I had managed one better than desertion and gone straight to high treason, but it felt like an odd choice.
Perhaps some of her other qualities made her the best choice regardless, or perhaps she had been opposed to this Rose android's decision to retreat.
"I see. So up until recently, this region saw active combat?" I asked.
Forsythia nodded like a pecking chicken.
"Things seem to be getting more peaceful by the year, and our researchers still aren't entirely sure why. The docile behaviour some of them are observed to exhibit is historically unusual. There have been some conjectures about damage to the greater neural network that they receive goals and directives from, but all of these are just hypotheses for now."
The girl folded her arms with a sigh while I thought the implications through.
"Well, it'll be something you'll be able to take your time learning about. I'm sure you'll get used to modern times in no time. We'll have to end our chat here for today, but if you meet with any troubles, feel free to come find me," she said with a beaming smile.
I almost blushed. Goodness, this robot was just a beacon of enthusiasm wasn't she?
"I'm confident I shall familiarise myself soon enough. For glorious mankind," I said instead. Was I laying it on a little thickly? I wasn't sure.
At the start of this history lesson Forsythia had mentioned humanity what felt like three times per sentence, but the word had scarcely made an appearance during the tail end of our chat.
Forsythia laughed brightly, which I hoped was a good sign.
"The rumours about you fourth millennium types were spot on. You're such go-getters. Hah. Don't be a stranger, okay?"
I waved her goodbye as she returned to her duties. That had been enlightening.
As I watched the android historian bounce away, I spoke lowly into my Oculus.
"Are you still there, Yuya?"
"That was quite the history lesson," she replied simply. I couldn't help but agree.
Aliens, of all things. Between the Old War and our new battles, the Tenno had fought what felt like every threat under the sun, but ultimately every one of those traced their origins to our glorious former overlords. My previous experience would have me believe that these aliens were simply another experiment run amok, but for some reason my gut was speaking differently.
I turned as naturally as I could, and strolled casually towards one of the corners of the camp.
"Can you pull the translation off of this thing?" I asked as I rubbed the chip in my hand.
"Hold the data medium against your wrist," Yuya replied.
Just in case anybody was watching, I made it look natural and stretched my arms behind my head. Did this actually do anything for androids? I saw a few of them doing this earlier.
"Interesting.
"So do you think the Aliens might actually be from outer space?" I asked.
Yuya hummed, but sounded unsure.
"It's probably just some Archimedean's pet mistake," she said. "Then again, we've already fallen into another dimension, so who's to really say?"
After a moment of silence, I spoke again.
"What do you make of this war against them?" I asked.
"It's not really our business, and we don't know enough," Yuya said somewhat unhappily. "We could just do as we originally planned and hide while we fix up the Orbiter."
"And what then?" I asked with a little sarcasm. "Build a magic gateway that brings us home? I was not aware that you knew how to do that."
"We don't know anything about this place," Yuya replied.
"Which is why I'm getting friendly with the locals," I said as I walked towards an android merchant.
He smiled amiably at me, the effect only slightly ruined by the gashes in whatever androids used for facial skin.
The marketplace was a small one, the stalls were made of wood, and the goods sold by the vendors were mostly junk, at least as far as I could tell. It was a tad shabby compared to the markets I was used to seeing on Venus. I suppose the closest reference I had were the Ostron markets, although if I wasn't limiting myself to sights I had personally seen, I imagined the smaller settlements on Mars might have commercial districts like this.
"What are you selling, sir?" I asked.
"You wouldn't believe how long it's been since someone's asked me that," he said brightly. "In my spare time I pick up driftwood and carve them into little sculptures. The humans used to do this too. Called them Pivisees."
I nodded. Fascinating.
"I'll take three," I said. The android's face brightened further.
"You have no money, you know," whispered Yuya.
"I don't have any money," I declared, which gave the man pause. "What is the local currency, and how do I obtain some? Will you take barter, instead?"
"Right, newcomer," he laughed. "Technically we don't get paid, but the Moon allocates resources to Anemone who gives us a small monthly stipend. The G's can be used to requisition equipment from the Moon, or otherwise traded between ourselves."
He waved a scratched arm in the vague direction of the camp entrance.
"There's a board over in that corner with a list of odd jobs. Get those done, and whoever posted it will remunerate you. Most of us take barter too, if that's more your thing. Machine components, relics, other scavenge."
Not too different to the economies I was used to. I wasn't entirely keen on going back to running errands for people, but the novelty of the situation had me looking forward to it. Building myself some starting capital and then making myself a living as a purveyor of rare goods and treasures.
"I shall return when I have these 'Gees'," I said simply. "Thank you for the explanation."
"Any time, newcomer. You got a name?" he asked.
"What's yours?"
The android laughed again. What a smiley fellow.
"Where are my manners? I suppose you can call me Carver," he said.
I inclined my head questioningly. Carver scratched the back of his weather-worn neck.
"It suits me better than my real name," he admitted. "I was Ariocarpus, way back when. Nobody calls me that. Don't call me that."
I shrugged. Fine by me.
"A pleasure to meet you, Carver. To answer your question, I happen to have lost my memories. Forsythia wanted to name me Hyacinthoides. I don't know why."
For some reason, Carver looked up at my hair.
"Five syllables is a bit of a mouthful," he smiled.
I huffed.
"I do not mean to sound ungrateful, but I could have used something shorter."
"When you've figured out a name you like, you can just ask to go by that instead," Carver said. His hand drew a circle in the air. "Most of us don't have that much, so the names are the most important possession we have."
That was a little sad, but there were cultures in the desert of Mars that shared a similar sentiment.
"I suppose I might be introducing myself with a new name when we next meet then. We will speak later, Carver."
With a nod I turned and walked away, Carver waving me at me as I left.
Well, now what? I had been given a two week grace period before I was expected to report to work, as it were.
The board was located in a shady alcove, stuck to the bare concrete wall with some unknown adhesive.
I suppose there was nothing to stop me from getting started on those jobs. If nothing else, having money couldn't hurt when we were rebuilding our lives from scratch. I was still having trouble accepting that I might never see Mara again.
Hopefully she wouldn't get into too much trouble without me.
I felt a pang of… something complicated. Back in our imperial days, Mara had been the least skilled within our squad. Over the course of the endless fighting, we had begun to treat her as something of a younger sibling figure.
It had been a strange thing to open my eyes one day and learn that Mara had a few years on me, physically. Beyond that, her Warframe had been roused from cryosleep months before mine had, and by all accounts she had grown by leaps and bounds while I slumbered.
But for all that my memories of that era felt like a hazy dream, the sentiment stubbornly remained. I was eminently uncomfortable with the idea that I would never again be there to support her should she, one day, get in over her head. And the return of the great enemy did nothing but exacerbate my concerns.
I swallowed uncomfortably. What could I actively do to change that, though? Orchestrate another Railjump Accident?
It was something I had to accept. Either I would stumble across a way to return, or I wouldn't. And if I wouldn't, no amount of agonising over it would do anybody any good.
I was still lost in my thoughts when a dusky skinned female approached me.
"Welcome to my camp," she said in the local language. "I didn't get a chance to introduce myself earlier. I'm Anemone."
Ah, the leader herself. She was dressed in the same sort of military garb I had spotted from a distance earlier, but her hair was down and loose now without the hood.
"What can I do for you, ma'am?"
It never hurt to be respectful. When the person deserved the respect, at least. From what Forsythia had told me about the camp, it seemed that Anemone was a capable woman indeed.
Anemone gave me a neutral look.
"The higher ups want to chat to you," she said in an odd tone. "They're waiting on call."
She didn't elaborate, but I assumed that meant I was being summoned by the Army of Humanity leaders.
I hadn't even done anything yet!
"Let's go, then," I said instead.
The room was obviously a meeting chamber, even as concrete and undecorated as it was. A few chairs surrounded a small table, upon which sat a holographic communicator console. At least that was what I assumed it was, because above the little contraption were the hardlight displays of two humanoid figures, sitting at their own desk.
One of them was an white-haired woman. Or android, I suppose. She was wearing a double-breasted tunic that fastened on the left that might have reminded me of Red Veil Templars, if only it hadn't been made of textile fabrics, as was the preference here.
The other figure was a man. He wore a similar tunic, but unlike the woman's, his was white. His eyes were closed behind a pair of glasses whose purpose I was unsure of. Could androids get myopia? And if they did, couldn't they just replace their eyes?
It was strange. Perhaps it was a fashion statement.
I took my place in one of the chairs in front of the desk.
"Is this the old android, Anemone?" the woman asked, looking at us in turn. Anemone nodded.
"Yes, ma'am," she said crisply. I wasn't sure what it was, but somehow I was left with the impression that Anemone was not too fond of these two.
The woman smiled reassuringly at me.
"You're not in trouble," she said, switching to their strange dialect of Common. "We'd just like to clarify a few things. I'm Samekh, and this is Chet. We represent the Army of Humanity, and by extension the Council of Humanity."
The man, Chet, opened his eyes.
"We'll get straight to the point," he said in the same language. "Tell us how you got here, from your point of view."
I frowned.
"Where should I begin?"
"Let's start from the first thing you remember," Samekh said in a softer tone than her compatriot.
I considered my situation. My official story was that I was an amnesiac. Surely Anemone could have told them this. Whatever could they want then?
"My earliest memory was waking up in a shallow body of water earlier this morning," I said. "After exploring the area and engaging in combat with what I now understand to be Machine Lifeforms, I made contact with an android named Mertensia."
"The deep-recon specialist?" he asked Anemone in the local tongue.
"Yes sir."
Chet grunted and turned back to me. "And after that?"
"I was brought to a Resistance camp," I answered. "There I met Forsythia, who explained my situation and told me about the Council of Humanity, the Army of Humanity, and the Machines."
"Is that all?" Samekh asked.
"That's all," I said.
Chet rubbed his chin in thought, but his holographic gaze didn't leave me. "We can't find records of a model like yours, but that's not strange given the era we think you're from. What does the term 'replicant' mean to you?"
I blinked. That was an odd question.
"It's an adjective that means 'pertaining to replication'." I wasn't sure what else they wanted from me.
We stared at each other in silence. Eventually Samekh sighed.
"It's a shame that you don't remember more. So few androids survived the first war. I can think of a few of my colleagues who would have loved to reminisce with you," she explained.
"Knowledge was siloed and distributed in that era," said Chet. "We were hoping that there was something you could contribute to the pool of lost knowledge."
"That sounds unfortunate," I said. "I wish I could be of more help."
Samekh sent me a sympathetic smile.
"With the way our storage mediums are built, there probably isn't much chance of your memories returning. Regardless, I hope you'll remember that you're amongst brothers and sisters in the Army of Humanity."
Chet nodded. "For the Glory of Mankind."
"For the Glory of Mankind," I echoed.
Samekh returned to speaking the local tongue. "Thank you, Anemone. Keep up the good work."
Chet gave me one final look. "If you remember anything, let us know. Keep us apprised, Anemone."
"Yes sir," she said and saluted.
With that, the hologram shimmered and faded away, leaving just me and Anemone in the room.
"Does this happen with every new arrival?" I asked.
Anemone shook her head.
"Not from what I've heard. Then again we rarely get androids as old as you wandering into camp."
I nodded in understanding.
"Being special is my burden to bear."
Anemone gave me a bewildered look, but quickly shook her head.
"I'm sure," Anemone replied diplomatically. "Look, if you run into any trouble you can come find me. I know what it's like to not have anybody."
I looked at her in contemplation. There was something indescribably real about her expression. I didn't know how long I would be staying here, or how long I would pretend to be an android.
Still...
I smiled at her. "I will consider your offer."
/ ■■ ■ ■■■ 2e876b00e1dcc3b1518dc5b1198993ee
– ESTABLISH CONNECTION
[119441204112301979] bet: impressions?
[119441204112306139] chet: claims of amnesia
[119441204112308552] chet: no visible reaction to 'replicants'
[119441204112312221] samekh: could be lying
[119441204112317824] samekh: introduced to official history
[119441204112319824] samekh: introduced to official status of humanity
[119441204112324034] chet: doesn't matter so long as unit in question remains silent
[119441204112333066] bet: executioner dispatch?
[119441204112337159] samekh: no need at this moment
[119441204112337906] chet: no need at this moment
[119441204112342811] chet: recommend low level observation
[119441204112343007] samekh: recommend case file opened for unit in question
[119441204112358281] bet: acknowledged
[119441204112404109] bet: contact if circumstances change
[119441204112410224] samekh: glory to mankind
[119441204112411004] chet: glory to mankind
[119441204112414667] bet: glory to mankind
– END TRANSMISSION