Exolegacy, page 17
“I thought it apropos to discuss our impending topic here.” Xikse broke the silence. “As the answer to your question regarding Giras is a matter of history, albeit our own, not of these Precursors.” At this he gestured his claw to the walls surrounding them.
“I am dat, which I know you know means that I am a form of manis that has not yet been elevated to ejd, and so is not eligible to join the ranks of the Arkeota, the keepers of our history. However, not all the Arkeota are the same, and many of them hold conflicting beliefs regarding the stewardship of our history. The few that have been elevated to that rank since we arrived here often have a greater view of our place in the universe than some of the more close-minded ancient ones.
“Now, when I say ancient, they are merely old by our standards, but their lifespans can reach into multiple centuries by the count of Earth’s years. Not many of them have passed on since our people’s Staig—our desperate flight—from our home world.”
At the mention of the Manisae home world, all three humans leaned in. No human had ever been privy to detailed information regarding it, nor the reason for the Manisae’s flight from it.
“Giras was that home. It means mountain or forest home in our language. I have never been, but I’ve been told that it was beautiful. None of the living datae or genaj have seen it either, we were all born during The Staig—the passage—to Tiras.
“But here I feel I must interject some reference to why I know this. You see, when an ejd is elevated to the Arkeota through the Ota’nau, they are given access to the memory of our species. How, I’m not clear on. It doesn’t use Sentite, like you both have, but it’s coded to each individual ejd. This is what was done to Nasah when they ascended. We had been friends then, close friends, but hopes of anything further had been dashed when they were selected for the Ejd’nau. Whether by pity, or love, or a sense of open-mindedness, I’ll never know, but Nasah chose to share those memories with me, albeit verbally. We would stay alert at the estate long after your parents had interlocked for the evening, discussing these memories, the history of my—of our—people. It was hard to comprehend at first, but I gradually came to accept it and share it with my siblings in the Manaiar.
“I don’t know how the Arkeota found out about Nasah’s breach of trust, but they did, and they were banned from the city to administer Ago-13 alone. I hadn’t seen or spoken to them until the other day when we arrived.”
“I’m sorry you had to deal with that loss alone,” said Gin.
“I had Taryn, she was very understanding, but could not truly understand the depth of my loss. She had your father after all. When she died, I was truly alone though, never having effectively made a connection with your father, I was reassigned to the ruins on the other side of Zelmas. But my struggles are not the purpose of this story, I must tell you the rest.
“I must start years before the actual Staig though, before we left Giras. We had been a thriving culture. We had harnessed the entire energy potential of our planet and were just beginning to build an energy installment closer to our sun to feed the growing demands of our industries. That was the action that drew unwanted attention from outside. Until that point, we hadn’t been aware of any other sentient species outside of Giras, though we had detected microbial life in multiple expeditions within our own system. This was different, they didn’t even send a living envoy, just a drone that appeared amid the Overcouncil one session. It bore a single message, and it wasn’t open for negotiation.
“It informed them that Giras had been entrusted to the us millennia ago, and there had been guidelines agreed to for the care of the planet. These, it relayed, had been in breach, and it was there to inform the signatories of the cancellation of their contract and that they must vacate the planet within a solar revolution of the message being received.
“This obviously was taken as a joke by the Overcouncil, and was largely ignored for the first half of the term. That is, until similar drones began appearing in orbit, and they couldn’t deny the ultimatum that was given to them. There was a mad scramble for power in the final seasons. The Arkeota were the faction that won out in the end. They commandeered resources to build a generational craft large enough for their entire faction, and millions of fertilized eggs to be held in stasis. They turned their backs on the majority of their species when they fled on the Staig, leaving billions to die in the coming cleanse. The S’Otestae—which you might call ‘The Aggregate’—were ruthless and efficient. Observational records from the Arkeota ship showed a complete cessation of technology and communication soon after they left Giras, nothing that even emitted artificial light remained.
Xikse stopped here, letting the revelation of a third sentience sink into the minds of the humans, let alone one that would wipe out another species without a seeming sense of diplomacy. The three of them were lost for words, though each of their minds buzzed with the implications this epiphany would have to different aspects of Humanity.
“This is the story of the shameful Staig, the flight of the Arkeota and their abandonment of the rest of Giras. This is the story that needs to be shared by the Manaiar, but they lack the means to. There is too much fear of the Arkeota for the majority of the population to believe something seemingly so far-fetched. There have been theories before, but without a member of the Arkeota confirming anything, all have failed like a flame in a vacuum.”
“What about Sentite? Can you not use it to record the memory of the Arkeota?” Inquired Gin.
“Our minds may fundamentally work the same, but without trying to insult you, human capacity falls far short of the mind of a manis, even a normal dat or gen. The ejdis are granted mental capacity orders of magnitude greater than the rest of us. Such is the depth and detail of the Arkeota’s memory.
Rez caught Xikse’s eye and nodded knowingly, then turned to Gin, “I think I should fill in a little more detail at this point. You know that I’ve been here on Tiras longer than Als, and working with the Manaiar as an operator of Balanta. We didn’t initially intend for you to come here as well Gin, but you being here turned out to be the drive that both I and Als needed to push forward with the plan. You see, you and your colleague Dr. Thero have been pulled into this purpose in the dark. I will let Ili know as soon as possible that she should enlighten him as well, but since you and I are here now, I need to tell you the true purpose of your research into the source of the original memory crystal.
“In a nutshell, we had hoped that your mind would find a way to increase the capacity of Sentite for use by the Arkeota, but all avenues of your research seemed to lead you to dead ends. That is, until you discovered the parallel with noachite. I was given the assignment to shadow you as well as your brother throughout your pursuit of a sample, and then to try to expedite the delivery of that sample to your lab at the university. I feel that your goals and ours have been aligned so well that telling you now about this endgame is not a shock to our relationship. I’ve come to value both you and your brother in different ways, so I hope it hasn’t. If it helps, the seed of this plan was actually planted by your parents and Sekretärin Chawla. It was your mother who first thought of the potential applications for the artifact that she found in this reliquary.”
“Thanks, I think I had come most of the way to some of those conclusions,” Gin responded as Als nodded in agreement. “I’m glad you could help connect some of the dots so that we’re all on the same page. Though I don’t think I’ll be able to do much from here since my lab is back at the university. Atla really is a highly capable scientist though, and I instructed him to include Som Kundi whenever he could. Perhaps his insight into the crystallography of the sample will help to open some doors for Atla.”
“Yes, I’m sure it will, Ilona sent me a message to a similar effect, though with a more reluctant tone. Probably because her hand was being forced to include more people than she thought was needed. She’s always been a tough personality to get along with, but she was chosen for her history with Atla, so there was little choice.”
“So what are our next steps?” Als attempted to keep the conversation moving forward. “I expect we’ll need to see Straj Nasah sooner or later, probably more than once, as they will need to be convinced to help the cause both from Xikse’s position with the Manaiar as well as from the Confederation’s interest through Balanta. Rez? Do you think you connected with them well enough to warrant an invitation back to Ago-13?”
38 The Open Hand
The weather on the approach to Ago-13 was much clearer than the first time Rez and Xikse had visited. Since this trip was specifically to talk to Straj Nasah regarding the Hernandez family past, Als came along this time. Rez had pulled on the thread that she had connected between her and Nasah on her first visit to wheedle out an invitation to further discuss the Ago system. Neither Xikse’s nor Als’ presence had been announced, and the former was visibly nervous about the reunion.
The tower loomed in the front screen of the flyer as they cruised over the edge of the crater in which the Ago was situated. The heat from the exhaust at the peak of the cone-shaped structure was the only indication that there was activity inside, and the air rippled in response. The material that was used in the construction was identical to that of the majority of the structures within Zelmas and its surroundings. Some sort of concretion made from the regolith and a binding agent, Rez supposed that it was laid down in a printing action, layer over layer. She made a note to ask Nasah if the opportunity presented itself, though, given the gravity of the topics that Als wanted to broach, she didn’t think that she’d have the chance this time.
“Hold on, we will be landing soon, and the crosswind is a bit stiffer than last time.” Warned Xikse.
Moments later the flyer drifted slightly sideways and bounced lightly on the landing area and Xikse powered down the craft. For a moment no one said anything in the silence that followed. The moment the entryway to the Ago started cycling open they all stirred as if from a trance. By the time the three visitors had made their way to the entrance, it was wide open and Straj Nasah was awaiting them calmly, though their gaze was fixed on Als.
“I see you have brought along a new companion.” Nasah addressed Rez, eyes still directed to Als. “Am I correct in assuming that this is Alsón Hernandez, scion of the late ambassador?”
“Yes, he is,” confirmed Rez. “I see your recognition of humans is better than others.”
“It is not hard when the resemblance is so uncanny. I’m sure by now Xikse has informed you of my former position as the ambassador’s translator.”
Als stepped forward, hands crossed at his sternum and his head down in the traditional manisae greeting, “Xikse has told us much, but about your relationship to my father, nothing.”
Nasah lifted his face in a show of surprise at the gesture, “Oh? Where else would you have learned those details? Your mother was not involved in her husband’s work as far as I was concerned.”
“Are you aware of the memory crystals that humans have developed after a similar one was gifted to them by your people?”
“Yes…” Nasah replied tentatively.
“I, and each of my two siblings, inherited a human-made version of that crystal when our father passed. We call them Sentite, and they can be used to emprint one’s memories and life if desired, then coded to become transferred to another specific human. We each of us received a different era of our father’s life in memory form, though some are a bit broken. For my part, I received the memories of his time here on Tiras as ambassador up until his passing.
“The memories were transferred to my mind in my initial interaction with the crystal, but from what I have learned since, many more of them than I experienced were included, and continue to step into the fore of my mind at various intervals. Sometimes as dreams.
“I experienced one such dream a couple of nights ago which we are here to possibly discuss with you.” Als said.
“Ahh,” Nasah sighed. “Yes, I am aware of the crystal technology that was given to humans.” Nasah glanced at Xikse briefly as if for permission. Xikse responded with a slow nod. “So you know about the origin of such crystals?”
“Yes, we have physical evidence of the mineral heritage of the ancient crystals found here on Tiras after your arrival, as well as the original crystal found by my mother. Which is now secure.” Als felt that he needed to add that last bit, as he had let slip that they still had one crystal from the reliquary.
“That is good. It will help to answer questions that would have arisen had you not known. But if you know all of this, what do you want to know from me? What memory do you have of me?”
“It was of a ceremony called the Ota’nau that you attended with my father…” Als started.
“You need not say more. I know of the ceremony and the instance that you speak of. It was the first time that your father, or any human, had been invited to witness the Ejd’nau or the Ota’nau. That is how highly the Arkeota elevates the potential relationship with Humanity. I expect that you have the memory of what I said afterward as well?”
“Well, you said something softly near the end of the ceremony. Something regarding ‘Giras’. Xikse informed us of what you told him regarding your home world.”
“Xikse knows only what I have told him, which is only what was told to me during my own Ota’nau. But it seems that you know more than enough of manisae history to cause quite a rift between our two people.”
“They don’t want that!” blurted our Xikse. “These humans are like the ones we knew. Als’ mother and father. Either from the inheritance of their father’s memories or their own convictions, they have taken up the cause of the Manaiar and Balanta. Gin, Als’ sister, has been helping to develop a more robust form of their Sentite. She and I left you and Rez here at the Ago on our last visit to discuss this technology, while we found mineral evidence of the materials the first people used for the relics. She has sent it to her lab at their university on the human moon to help the Manaiar cause.”
“And what cause is that?” Nasah addressed Xikse for the first time, acknowledging his presence. “Have you finally settled on one? Your loss of the ambassador as a figurehead and political shield threw much into disarray as far as I recall.”
The callousness of Nasah’s remarks regarding his father’s political effort both felt personal as his father’s son, but also because it now felt vaguely more like his own efforts. “Have you not suffered because of what you said to my father?” Als said. “Do you think that your people should be forced to follow the will of a group that tries to hide from their problems and not disclose important information for the good of their own people, not to mention Humanity? From what Xikse has told us secondhand about The Aggregate, it would serve not only the dat and gen populations of Tiras, but also the people of Earth. If The Aggregate is even half as powerful as we have gathered from your account, we need to work together as a unified people of Sol.”
“The Arkeota control the narrative though,” countered Nasah.
“You are Arkeota though. You have the narrative in your memories. We can help you help your people by bringing them all into that narrative. Not just standing by while cowardly leaders limit their knowledge of past and culture.”
“They would only stop me before I could tell the people. Do not think that I do not want what you speak of. The balance is the way it is for a reason, even if that reason is wrong.”
“But there is no balance!” Rez said. “That’s why Balanta was formed, hell, it even means ‘balance’. There are people on Earth that would share their knowledge as well, and believe as we do.”
“What do humans have that could possibly tempt the Manisae to share their wealth of knowledge?” Xikse asked disdainfully.
“I realize that Humanity is behind the Manisae in terms of technology, but I don’t think that we should focus on what either of our people can bring to the table, but what we can accomplish together as a unified front.” Als said.
“The people with less often think that way.” Nasah countered. “Humanity would benefit much more than the Manisae from such a partnership.”
“Maybe at first,” Xikse said. “But the Manaiar believe that cooperation between worlds would grow to benefit each side beyond what we could accomplish alone. The S’Otestae are an unknown variable, we do not know how powerful or how widespread their influence is, and cooperation within this system can only benefit our peoples.”
There was a pause in the conversation while Nasah considered all of the information that had been presented. “What would you have me do if in fact a change could be effected?”
Als’ shoulders visibly relaxed at the apparent opening in Nasah’s armor, “We believe that if—no when—a sufficient advance can be made at Aryabhata University through Gin’s colleagues, then that technology could then be used to record and disseminate the history of the Manisae to both the majority of your people and our own. We would need to emprint that history directly from one who holds the memory of it though.
“But to build a foundation of trust between our two people, the truth about the origin of Sentite needs to be made public to Humanity. They have dreamed of life on what they call Mars for centuries, and to have those dreams answered, even if they weren’t the ones who ended up discovering the truth, would open up many possibilities of cooperation between us. Think of the industry and research that could be brought to Tiras.”
“Our motivations are not always the same as yours,” said Nasah. “the Manisae have a much different history than that of humans. You may have evolved from an aggressive and social animal, but we originated as solitary and protective people. We care more about our safety than reaching out and striking a potential threat than you do. That essentially translates into fundamentally different motivations. How do you propose compensating for those?”
