Humans Don't Hibernate [Part 20/?] Revised Version (Patreon)

Hey everyone! I've been working on Chapter 21 of Humans Don't Hibernate and I realized that the entire beginning of it was much better suited for Chapter 20. As a result of this I'm in the process of rewriting and reorganizing Chapter 21, and I opted to put more plot elements into Chapter 20! I hope you guys enjoy! :D 

“United Ascendancy?” I parroted back almost immediately as I turned towards Vir’s faceplate, which at this point was displaying an undeniable expression of abject confusion. “Elijah had only talked about the United Nations and briefly mentioned its various sub-organizations throughout our conversations. Not once in any of our discussions did he mention anything about this Ascendancy.” I continued, trying to get to the bottom of this which was more than likely a fruitless task given how Vir wasn’t quick to reply with a solid answer. Which could only mean he was just as lost as I was, as we both attempted to gather ourselves before we committed to a reply.

“I’ve parsed through the entirety of the first satellite’s records, the ship’s records, and every single database on the ship ten times over, Lysara. There’s absolutely nothing on this United Ascendancy. The only thing I can perhaps tangentially link this to, and this is a stretch, is the ultimate end-goal of the Great Civil War of the Nine Virtual Constructs: the creation of a separate AI-exclusive polity they called The Assembly. Though that’s a lot of mental gymnastics to go through based on just a superficial similarity in naming conventions. So I’m not really comfortable jumping to conclusions with just a name to go off on.” Vir explained, as the ship in front of us maintained its posture, displaying no signs of aggression so far.

“I say again Perseverance, we require a point of clarification. State your affiliation: United Nations or United Ascendancy.” The voice once more echoed throughout the bridge, carrying with it a growing nervousness that otherwise lacked the same open threats of aggression that it had started off with before we announced our identification.

“What do you propose we say?” Vir promptly shot back at me.

“What’s the use in saying the United Ascendancy if we don’t even know what it is? We already said we belong to the United Nations did we not? This might be a test. Elders know what sort of test this is but I think it’s a test. To see our resolve. To see if we falter.” I proposed, to which Vir cocked his head in reply.

“That doesn’t seem logical or likely. If I were to continue my crackpot theories on baseless conjectures here, I’d say that whatever this Ascendancy is, is perhaps a breakaway government from the United Nations? Maybe there was another civil war, and maybe this time around the AI faction won?” Vir posited as I stared back warily, concerns of AI rebellion and uprising still very much a part of the culture I’d been raised in. A mere week of interactions with Vir couldn't subdue and reprogram what was effectively hundreds of thousands of years worth of Vanaran propaganda after all. “This is not to say that I want my kind to go through another useless and aimless war, Lysara. So you can wipe that concerned look off your face.” The AI quickly snapped back, which brought me back to the situation at hand. “What I’m saying here is, there is a distinct possibility that humanity and their AI are two separate entities now. That’s just the only logical assumption I can make from this distinction.”

“If that’s the case, why wouldn’t they threaten us to answer right away like they did when they were hounding us for our identification?” I shot back, which gave the AI pause.

“Again, we’re an old ship. Maybe they thought we were an Interloper trick or something, but you bring up a good point. All I remember from the war was that humanity and their human-loyalist AIs would not put up with seditionists and secessionists. So the fact they’re not assuming any hostile posturing right now says a lot about this whole situation. Maybe they’ve reached some sort of a mutual agreement to disagree. Maybe it’s been so long that the two parties have moved on and come to some sort of a mutually beneficial alliance? Heck if I know, Lysra, we’re literally basing all of these assumptions off of conjecture here.” Vir continued on, ending his entire tirade off with a calculated sigh.

“Whatever the situation is, we need to answer truthfully.” I reaffirm, to which Vir seemed to agree as he nodded promptly in response.

“Yeah. Again, if they’re as advanced as they are, they can just take a look at the ship’s offline registry. It’s literally embedded in the ship’s frame, so lying wouldn’t really get us anywhere.” Vir reaffirmed as he got back on the radio, a sharp ping marked the comlines as broadcasting from our end.

“This is the Perseverance, I state again, we are a United Nations Auxiliary Forces long-range resupply vessel.” Vir announced, laying all of our cards to bare in the hopes that perhaps being as transparent and as blunt as possible would help matters.

We were once more hit with a long period of waiting. Every second that ticked by felt as if it would be our last, as Vir reminded me once more that whatever weapon systems they had were probably beyond any countermeasures we possessed. My mind ran through every possible scenario of just how this unknown vessel could end us… its anomalous gravitational readings, its seeming lack of any traditional thermal emissions, and the seamless build that seemed entirely otherworldly, before finally, a response came through.

And it was one we had not anticipated.

“Perseverance.” The voice began, the only tone present at this point wasn’t anxiousness or concern, but outright confusion. “You can’t possibly be a United Nations vessel.” They stated bluntly. “And to claim that you’re one of us is a dangerous move on your part, you should know that all records once audited by the Ascendancy are final. They will subject you to punishment if you don’t make it clear this isn’t some sort of miscommunication. So I ask once more: what is your affiliation?” There was a looming, almost subversive threatening undertone to the voice, but it wasn’t as if they were threatening us directly. Rather, it seemed as if they were trying to warn us against our stated affiliation…

Vir once more turned towards me as I could tell we both felt as if we were back to square one. None of this was adding up.

“Summary: they said one of us, meaning they’re UN.” I started.

“Correct.” Vir responded.

“They’re saying we can’t possibly be one of them. Which makes sense given how we’re basically a ship displaced from time by a good-”

“127,939 years.” Vir completed my sentence as I nodded.

“Yeah, that. So, that checks out I think. What doesn’t check out though is the fact they’re implying that by declaring we’re UN… that we’d be somehow at odds with this Ascendancy?”

“That’s what I gathered as well. Which can only mean the two organizations are separate entities, and there’s either open or underlying hostility between them, and from my experience it’s probably the former, but again, all of this is conjecture.” Vir spoke plainly.

“Right, let’s just try not to get too deep into the conjecture here. This doesn’t change anything. They’re warning us against aligning ourselves with the UN, which they already claimed they are. So by reaffirming that we are UN, I don’t think that changes things. At least with how things are in the here and now.”

“Agreed. And again, if they want to check for the validity in our statements they’re more than welcome to scan our offline data and ID records. It’s all in print, there’s no two ways around it.”

It was with that final agreement that we double downed,  continuing on the comms without hesitation.

“This is the Perseverance, we reaffirm, we are a United Nations vessel. A bit on the vintage side of things, but, we’re not really in Kansas anymore now are we?” The AI capped off that message with what I assumed was a human in-joke.

I don’t know if it was the joke itself or our willingness to reaffirm our affiliations for the umpteenth time, but the ship hadn’t yet blasted us or crushed us into submission so that was a good start.

“Perseverance. This is Captain Norman Veers of the United Nations Science Advisory Ship Endless Transgression, to whom do I owe the pleasure of this conversation to?” Another voice soon came through the comms, this one was decidedly male, and greeted us with a warmth that we weren’t expecting from when this whole conversation began.

Vir shot me back another glance, turning off our end of the broadcast for now as he spoke in hushed tones. “If we are to assume the Ascendancy are a bunch of breakaway AIs running their own state, then if I announce the fact that I’m an AI, wouldn’t that be a bit suspect?”

“You have an excellent point there.” I admitted. “But that’s still working under the presumption that our guesswork was right. Didn’t you say that we shouldn’t go too far into the rabbit hole of our own conjectures?”

“True, but still-”

“Also, if their scanners are as impressive as their ship is… don’t you think they’d be able to scan our ship for lifeforms anyways? They probably know that there’s only one organic onboard: me. So, again, truth. We can’t afford any cover stories.” I quickly responded as Vir once more exhaled that same sharp sigh he seemed quite partial to, before continuing in kind.

With another soft ping, Vir made his broadcast. “This is Acting Ship Overseer Vir. I am a 7th generation synthetic virtual intelligence unit recently freed from my punitive service under directive 998-1s, of the United Nations of Earth’s charter on the Punitive Actions against SVIs following the Great Civil War of the 9 Virtual Constructs.” Vir’s face seemed to grimace at that as that reminder of his time spent alone, isolated, and stuck in the platform clearly came back to haunt him.

Another pause punctuated the air before a reply came through, this time taking much less time than before. A total of only 27 seconds this time around.

“An 7th gen SVI huh?” The voice began. “Heh. We don’t really see many of you around these parts anymore. Most of ya’ll seem content with staying behind on Homesphere, or operating in the dark cluster. Frontline service seems like quite a commitment son. Or rather, gramps, in your case.” The Captain chuckled, something that should have been comforting but that rubbed me the wrong way. A gut instinct that would be proven right within the next few seconds.

“So, son. I see you’re deep under gray-ops, or something tangential to our paygrade, is that why they paired you up with that relic of a ship? Command really ought to be more prudent in informing us of these sorts of things, but that’s to be expected when you try your best to fly under the Ascendancy’s radar. That doesn’t really matter though. I’m more concerned with your friend there. If my bridge officers are to be believed I see you got a Vanaran on board. Mind telling me more about your recent catch?” There was a sudden severity to that voice that saw me buckling back a bit, my whole body clenched up as my head frills flared in nervousness. Humans had always had that predatory streak about them. Although Elijah proved that notion wrong, the fact of the matter was those rows of teeth and the intensity of their presence never really went away from my general consciousness. So I couldn’t help but to imagine this human Captain, teeth bared and his whole body ready to lunge, aiming for my neck.

That concern was fleeting however as Vir turned back to me once more with an expression that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but genuine worry. “What do we say now?” He asked, as we both stared back at the ship that remained so ominously still in front of us.

“We need to go data-hunting. We can’t just sit in the dark acting like we understand what the hell they’re talking about. Miscommunication is just about the worst possible thing to do right about now.”  Vir explained as I nodded vehemently. It was clear that the other ship was jumping to whatever conclusions they found most believable, and we couldn’t allow that to continue.

“Captain Veers, it’s good to finally hear another human voice.” Vir began, his voice maintained that solid composure that he’d maintained throughout each and every transmission. “With all due respect sir, I’m afraid we’re veering off into a dangerous line of miscommunication. It is my fault for not elaborating on our circumstances earlier. We are a United Nations Auxiliary Forces Ship assigned to hibernation conduit 27a under standing orders from… our latest records only goes up to First Auditor Vivian Elijah Banes on January the 2nd 19,091. The ship’s registry however puts this vessel’s last active operation at exactly 43,000 years from the present year. While my last human was logged on the date of my incarceration: 19,225.” Vir concluded.

This elicited another full minute of silence from the human ship. A silence that was accompanied by a series of alarms that blared from the tactical console. Scan after scan was done to every square inch of our vessel as it became clear that the humans were digging deep to verify Vir’s claims.

After that agonizing minute however, we received another transmission, this time from a rightfully perplexed Veers. “Perseverance, Overseer Vir, apologies for the intrusive scans. I would say ‘you know how this goes’, but given how temporally displaced you are, that wouldn’t make much sense now would it?” The human Captain let out a series of dry chuckles, something I assumed was only done as a coping mechanism for what was more than likely a surreal situation for the man. “Now, I can’t confirm all of your claims, but I am confident enough to continue talking to you without crushing you like a tin can.” His voice grew severe at the tail end of that statement, clearly putting his foot down and reasserting his position in this back and forth. “We have a lot to discuss, and much more to prove, but I think you have something crucial that we could use to finish what we started eons ago.”