Sol Standard Licenses are more like keys than outright phantasmics.
From what we understand of them, they rely unlock certain… ethical considerations blocking the EGI from acknowledging the user’s request. The vast separation of the many different licenses, however, tells a tale of internal striations present even amongst the Voiders themselves.
Though long have they lurked in our orbit, we have identified their separation into three major “fleets.” I dare not say if they are actually parted factions for they stand united in any Guild-level negotiations, but the accountings taken from those who have visited their voidships and habitats depict a society that at once lives in a paradise of individual leisure, while constrained by artificial supervision each passing second.
Strangely, their artificial minds do not seem to rule them or demand from them as the gods did. Instead, they seem to serve as impossibly incorruptible caretakers. At least when it cos to their own people.
There has been more than one case of Voidships engaging trespassing Fallwalkers seeking to smuggle sothing from the Sunderwilds. Most fascinatingly, the Fallwalkers reported that their ghosts detected hints of incomprehensible sorrow spilling out from the Voidships–the emotional recognition barely adjacent to humanity.
It’s a worrying thing, to consider that whatever happened out in the dark, it left even minds composed of rawest data shaken.
--Osjon Thousand, The Firmant and the Sky, Chapter 5
9-9
Seeding Spies
Knowledge was a great house, but with vast capacity a tax was levied upon its upkeep. Too many layers to its design and the structure threatening collapse, like one pillar split into ten then a hundred, each straining under the weight of a growing ceiling.
Such was how Avo felt when he beheld the simulated facade of the hive for the first ti. Diving into the EGI Core, he found himself faced with a grand oubliette, its depths deep and its expanse byzantine. The bridges and junctions built through its confines were beyond description of the architecture, becoming a thing where shape and analogy grew interwoven.
m-data surged through tunnels of m-data, the greater hiding the lesser. The sheer amount of mories available allowed for countless permutation. Here, practicality was wed to artistry, the nature of all phantasmics augnted and masked by the mind of the EGI core itself.
The core itself. Of all the things about his inheritance, the half-crippled artificial mind was a treasure above treasures, even broken. The m-data that ca from it greeted him in billows of static. He had heard of ghosts capable of interfacing with more complex coldtech computation devices, but the EGI possessed a weight of cognition, a presence in the Nether almost human.
A mirror to the nature of his Soul, it rested at the very heart of the oubliette. Avo strode across the drifting tides of m-data, gazing up toward the center point of which all mories found the end to their flow. A large cloud of static information lined with both nurals and ghosts shimred, its grandness conferring upon it a pseudo-gravity that pulled at his attention.
It would take him months to acclimate himself to its build. Longer still before he could fully master it.
Over the course of the past two days, however, he contented himself with understanding the basics of his new facilities.
At present, he had the ship create two additional chambers for Draus and Kae. With his place being in the nexus–and so enthralled with its supporting Necrothurgy–he saw no need to create another partition of his own.
At the Regular’s request, he created a vehicle bay within the structure for their command aero. It seed pointless to Avo now that they had the George Washington, but Draus still thought much of its necessity.
As for entering and exiting the sanctuary, the process of leaving was substantially easier. Approximatelyone-hundred and twenty Penumbral Gateways were active and scattered across the Warrens at any given ti. They would cycle from location to location in accordance with a self-scrambling mory key installed within the core–one that Avo now copied into his own ta as well. If they wanted to leave, all it would take was a request and a specific gateway. The doorway he entered through would then re-manifest along the walls of the command nexus as a tunnel opened behind it. Doing this seed to require no sacrifice of Essence, rely the activation of his helix.
The only real trouble ca after, with re-entry necessitating the sacrifice of a ghoul. Avo wasn’t sure if only his brothers would suffice as key to this demiplane, but thus far, they were the only beings his helix worked on. And interestingly, Kae theorized that this Heaven of Shadows must be connected to Rendsinks sowhere, as it seed to lack a Soul and an obvious Hell.
Such a thing made Avo wonder why his Fra hadn’t managed to identify the Heaven in function yet. Perhaps it pre-dated recorded data.
He had examined a few of the helios from the cloning pools afterward, choosing to keep them dormant instead of waking them fully. It was difficult for him to regard them for long. Searching the blankness of their minds, he found nothing of a helix slot within them, nor the touch of ghoulhood.
That, then, was sothing for the Low Masters–or the Hungers themselves–to add after the perversion of their flesh.
BIOMASS: 45%
Another matter was the supply situation for the ship. The hydroponics bay–a literal kiloter-long silo of genetically modified greenery–cycled enough air and water for the ship. However, they still lacked so critical supplies to sustain an extended living aboard.
Well, extended living for the other two, at least. Avo had, to sate curiosity more than hunger, taken samplings of his predecessor species.
They tasted remarkably bland.
His visit to the gene clinic was brief. Much potential lay in its future if the EGI’s logs were anything to go off of. For now, bereft of proper licenses, all he found was an inventory of disappointnt blunted by a single surprise. Short of wishing to modify himself to survive the void or revert back to baseline ghoul, the clinic would not provide him any augntations yet. However, he discovered the helix had done sothing to his blood. With his haemophage unrestricted, his ability to interface with “biological apparatuses” had been drastically enhanced.
Apparently, he t a requirent of a license to his own biology, and now his half-sapient blood cells could assimilate biomass or other organs into his vessel instead of breaking everything down for energy.
Sothing he should consult with Ruveca about if nothing else.
The remainder of his m-cache material he transferred over to Kae in the form of phantoms. The three volus of the Elder Mythos archives were compendiums of different pantheons from the perspective of Old Noloth. With such knowledge deed illegal by the Guilds and a felony class cri, even possessing this made him a ripe target for an Exorcist if detected by a stray thought scan.
Best that he left the m-data with the nexus for now. At least until he could improve his wards. Improve his tamind, actually. He had been putting that off. Putting that off since…
Since the Deep Bazaar. Where Walton’s node made him…
He had killed his father. A shadow of his father, anyhow.
There was another thing that bound them: Death. Both of them had died, over and over in so capacity.
The only difference now was that Walton wasn’t coming back.
So of this just didn’t feel real. Real. Avo wasn’t even sure the word applied to himself anymore.
A crackle of wincing ghosts spilled through his Auto-Seance and tore him away from that path of thought. Green River’s session coming to life. In the ti he spent examining his new sanctuary, Draus must have finished arranging for the three Conflux “escapees” to be returned to Mirrorhead’s gasp.
By this point, the Sang was calling to report either confirmation of delivery or an interception by the Exorcists. And judging from how smoothly Chambers’ marker was moving in his tamind's DeepNav, he predicted the news would be most pleasing.
It’s done, Green River said. Conflux has paid for the transaction. They sounded quite surprised about the “stock” I procured. The three will be delivered within the hour. The rest is your business.
Good, Avo replied. It tracked with what he knew already, nested within each of the three subverted minds. Any suspicion?
Not on my end, I assure you. As for the cargo believing the theater of their minds, I cannot claim any certainty. Such is sothing I leave for your judgnt. Apprehension clouded her next thoughts. A speckle of loathing, its vector directed beyond him, toward the Low Masters he represented to her. I have a request for you. One that I consider owed.
Owed. He thought differently, but perspective determined the foundation for one’s rules. The district was hers to manage, and his last encounter with “family” had left a massacre in her backyard. Doubtless, questions had descended on her from above, demanding explanations for the sudden deaths and the obvious nullings.
Explanations she couldn’t provide. He had yet to release her from Walton's final bindings.
Tell about the request, Avo said. He was only half-focused on her. In the depths of his mind, he still monitored the path Chambers and the techs took. They were supposedly being shuttled along with so corpses–soon to be made Wights. The automated aeros were to run across Layer One, gathering corpses from place to place, stopping between key blocks.
Wouldn’t be hard for three living subjects to “escape” during such a period.
Soon, he would be in his elent again, diving deep through hidden mories to sabotage Conflux from within. Priority targets were the loci serving as nerve centers for the block, the drones, rival Necrojacks, and above all, Mirrorhead himself.
For the last, Avo held hope that the Syndicate boss would remain predictable and pull Chambers into his inner sanctum. Without straying gazes and outside influence, the challenge of tagging Mirrorhead with a m-con would be far easier.
I visited Ox-Three after your departure, Green River prodded, pulling his thoughts away from the upcoming dive and back to the conversation. And the two blocks next to it. Walton or his other nodes were the transgressors, but they were looking for you. All those people nulled… Tell … were Walton’s shadows involved? Other nodes?
He wanted to tell her that he didn’t know what awaited them. That it wasn’t his doing. Fault belonged to the Low Masters and the festering thing they worshiped as a god. Not him.
He stopped himself.
Defending his involvent mattered little. The ones he needed to see dead took priority. And the Sang, in of herself, presented sothing of an asset against the Low Masters, familiar with Walton as she was.
Want to atone? Avo asked. Provide recompense for them.
Her quiet response cleaved back at him, a cold-tal blade lashing back. The people are dead, ghoul. There is no recompense for death. But the matter is not with you. There is nothing you can give, for I have ascertained the deed to have been committed by another, beyond your hand. The fault, however, has fallen upon my shoulders. My elders wish for an explanation as to how I allowed one of my new “clients” from Ori-Thaum to null a district. So… I require… another adversary to direct their attention. If you would so provide one, of course.
Attention fully over to Green River now, Avo wondered how else the Low Masters had pissed off the Sang. He couldn’t help but grin with bitter mirth. Luck frowned upon him in strange ways; the price she demanded was more a necessary assignnt. Perhaps that was why she demanded it. He would not be able to evade the other selves of his father, and so there was to be a clash.
Now, however, he had another angle to strike with.
Of course, she did not know the full nature of what she was facing. He and Draus had revealed little regarding his encounter in Ox-Three. Hesitation lingered with him still regarding that topic. Yes… I can get you sothing. Will need so ti to provide proper details.
Her mind stilled into inscrutable silence. Just how much did she believe. What was coming? A rebuke? Good. I… misjudged you, ghoul. You surprise with your willingness to… be reasonable.
Yeah. He still hated her too. We share prey. Nothing more.
A titter of laughter ca from her. It was a thing of reflexive politeness. Ah. So I see. Another question, if you will?
I’ll deactivate the last mory chaining your mind. Do it after business with Conflux concludes.
That obvious, was I?
Have anything else in common to talk about?
A pause ca from the Sang. She sighed. Bright-Wealth wants to know if you’re coming around again. She is willing to offer good imps for a phantasmic. A clandestine Specter of a sort. Sothing doubtlessly to help her cheat at ma jiang.
He gave an amused grunt. What else indeed? His first instinct was to say no. That he didn’t care. But he paused. Sothing about the offer seed… nostalgic. Like he was back in the Tiers, living as a Necrojack again. If half of those mories even belonged to the sa person. The coldness returned inside him. He was more chira than ghoul now. Perhaps all along. Ask her how much. Then we talk.
Chambers passed into the borders of Mazzo’s Junction. The ti of insertion was upon them. Going to need to go quiet now. Share details if anything is discovered.
Very well, Green River said. I will be in touch.
He ended the session and watched as Chambers’ marker inched toward the Conflux gablock through Exorcist-managed traffic.
The drones he and Draus had used to map out and monitor the area were still in play, but working more subtly than ever. The veins of traffic were thick with remotely possessed or ghost-driven vehicles, mostly empty of people. As such, it was hard to parse the loci of their Lark drones from other aeros.
Through the rising levels of the Conflux gablock, with its vast podiums still littered with pockets of foot traffic and drifting advertisents, neon ssages painted in both the real and the Nether, the cargo descended.
It was low in the Spine–just above where Layer One parted the Warrens proper from the gutters below–that the transport carrying Chambers accelerated. An open dock awaited them, the outside protected by twenty drones.
They were Bodkin patterns he rembered from the Crucible. Suppose Conflux had plenty of those.
Across the Auto-Seance session Avo built into his spies, Chambers’ anxiety was a persistent torrent. Terror gripped the enforcer, but he was surprisingly competent at controlling his lesser nature.
Avo despised the man, but through the sequencing of his mind, could not deny that though the Syndicate enforcer lacked good sense, good nerve, good instinct, and good hygiene, there was a strange cunning amidst all the filth. Sothing both simpering and intensely aware of what others thought of him, capable of reading emotions or guessing at motivations. Such granted him room to adjust himself accordingly; it was part of what kept him safe from abusers like Mirrorhead.
Unfortunately, that was where Avo’s complintary thoughts culminated, for Chambers had a bad habit, and that was tuning his tamind to play specific distasteful vicarities when he got too worried. Using the enforcer as both spy and gateway, Avo was always there. More than once Avo had to quell the man’s in-mind entertainnt, and more than once he desired to bleach his eyes and null the man after beholding the contents.
Like a shadow hiding the darkest mories within Chambers’ mind, Avo watched and waited. With all the alterations he made to the enforcers’ mories, the man now rembered things of the past slightly differently. Deliberately differently compared to the techs as well–another thing to serve as a lure for Mirrorhead’s attention.
Less than two hundred feet away now judging from the triangulation between the Lark, the transport, and the dock when calculated by his Phys-Sim.
Activating another session, he connected his mind with Draus’. Our seeds on approach. Insertion soon.
Copy that, Draus said, her awareness drifting over into his tamind, taking a backseat in his palace. Did you alter your ta, by the way? Place feels… different.
Not yet, Avo said, watching the distance fade. Not yet.
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