Humans Don't Hibernate [Part 29/?] (Patreon)

We went through the system at a relatively decent pace. As expected, the system bore little in the way of any other points of interest. From the oort cloud onwards all we could detect were the windless, lifeless, pockmarked surfaces of the system’s rocky worlds and the unrelenting and ceaseless storms of its gas giants. Starting from the outer reaches of the solar system, tens of dwarf planets could be seen. None with anything worth noting, and especially nothing that brought up evidence of forward settlements or outposts. Typically when it came to inhabited systems belonging to any interstellar civilization worth their mettle, there’d at least be an FTL buoy or a comms array large enough to cover an entire dwarf planet. This system had none of that. Which further supported the running hypothesis that this was in fact a pre-interstellar civilization, or at least it had been.

Pushing further in, four gas giants were noted. Again, no signs or evidence of any existing stellar infrastructure that would hint at a proper space faring civilization were observed. At this point we could potentially narrow down the last known point of technological development of this civilization to something between the era of planetary globalization and that of intra-solar expansion. Gas skimmers and permanent resource extraction settlements would’ve been necessary archeological evidence in the establishment of an intrasolar civilization. Without which, the criterion for true intrasolar status would remain unfulfilled.

Passing the four gas giants and several particularly dense patches of asteroids which delineated the system into 2 distinct zones, we began our approach towards the point of interest, the planet which still radiated out the same, indecipherable, analogue signal.

Upon making our approach into its orbit, we purposefully reduced our speed as we performed several fly-bys of the planet’s moon. Assaulting the planet’s natural satellite with every available sensor on our ship, we were met with a wealth of data on everything from the moon’s topography through to any and all anomalous signatures that might’ve hinted at the celestial body’s encroachment by intelligent hands.

The first round of sensor readings showed nothing.

However, I wasn’t deterred.

The less advanced a civilization was, the less there was to show for their existence. I wanted to make certain that no stone was left unturned as I had Vir circle the planet’s gray-white, crater-filled moon for an additional hour, until finally, we struck proverbial gold.

Deep within one of the many craters on the planet, tucked within a particularly difficult to reach crevice with an incredible degree of natural protection against the host star’s solar radiation, was an anomalously large collection of processed metals. Further readings reported increasingly detailed findings on the topography and terrain of the crater. Targeted pulse sensors showed what could only be described as a series of unnatural reliefs within the crater itself, indicating the presence of an entirely artificial structure somewhere underneath the surface of the crater, nestled within its sheltered outcropping.

Whilst there was no evidence of any active satellites in the orbit of either the moon or the planet in question, there was no doubt in my mind that the planet we were dealing with had once hosted a civilization on the very cusp of intrasolar expansion.

A few options now presented themselves as we sat here in orbit above what was more than likely a long dead attempt at lunar colonization.

“Have you seen anything like this before?” Vir turned towards me with a clear sense of curiosity in his voice. It was that same, audible tone of genuine questioning eagerness that had been present with the humans I’ve met thus far. Elijah most prominently, but Veers also had a similar undercurrent to his voice that I simply could not shake. The humans, and their creations, had a propensity for this desire to push through the unknown with a fervor that I’d never truly encountered before.

I’d lacked the ability to understand it at first. Even in my previous life as a military scientist, there was always something holding me back. It wasn’t so much the rules or the institutions however, despite those being genuinely draconian in their measured approach to the advancement of science and technology. It was more so a genuine disinterest in pushing beyond a certain point. As if there was something at the back of our minds universally telling us that there was indeed a point where the effort in obtaining and studying knowledge could not justify what little knowledge there could be gained. It felt as if there was always a cost and reward war going inside of our heads, which at the end of the day always landed in favor of caution.

Ever since I started my misadventures with Vir however… all that changed. It was as if I had all but thrown caution to the wind, and was channeling all of my bottled up desires to push beyond the veil into every encounter we met. It felt as if I was finally able to live, and so, my actions, my words started to reflect that more and more with each passing minute.

“Yes, quite a number of times in fact.” I answered in no uncertain terms.

“And I assume they always belonged to new, never before seen alien civilizations?” The AI piped back almost immediately. Once again, that genuine desire to know bubbling all the way to the surface.

“More often than not, yes. The rate at which we discover new, entirely unknown sapient civilizations was rather staggering. And yet…” I began trailing off.

“Yet what?” Vir egged me on.

“Yet we never really gave them much pause. It always felt like it was to be expected. Like every corner of the darkness that was our galaxy had at one point or another housed entire civilizations that more than likely had already collapsed due to the great cycle.” I responded despondently, recounting the same sentiments shared throughout the xenoarcheology community. It was decidedly fatalistic, and saying it outloud again after so long made it feel so utterly… alien, coming from me.

Fatalism and a sense of cyclical perpetuity in life, destruction, and reseeding was accepted to be the norm. There was nothing to challenge it after all, and it was practically in the nature of life itself to face, given the impending doom that was hibernation. We’d normalized it to a degree that it was only now, from the outside looking in, do I finally feel disgusted by it all. Especially considering the truth behind it, and the intelligent design that had effectively sentenced us to a futile struggle leading to nowhere.

“I mean, I kinda get that.” Vir responded, prompting a fluttering of my headfrills in curiosity.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, given how hibernation was more or less normalized… you guys wouldn’t really fear or stigmatize civilizational collapse now would you?” Vir began rationalizing. “I mean, fuck, I’m not saying it’s right in the slightest. It’s actually quite fucked up, for the record. However, it’s the kind of fucked up that you can’t really get past if everyone else participates in that same system and is trapped in that same mindset. It’s a matter of being so lost in the narrative enforced not just by the state, but by what you assumed was the natural order, So I’m just saying yeah, I can see why you might’ve thought that way before. However, I really do hope that your experiences with humanity have-”

“They have.” I interjected, halting Vir in his tracks. “I’ve never felt a greater sense of… continuity than my interactions with humanity. Whereas my civilization accepts the cycle of destruction and reseeding to be a matter of life… true life, real life is about making sure the destruction never happens in the first place. It’s not about perpetuity, nor is it about survival, it’s about sustained ascent, climbing further and further whilst ensuring the sacrifices of the past always lead further still into the future. It’s not about just survival, it’s about thriving. And honestly, just seeing and hearing another human after all this time, in a vessel that far surpasses the technological sophistication of any known piece of existing technology? Humanity has shown that they embody that. And just the mere fact that they demonstrate that sustained ascent is indeed possible, gives the idea of a civilizational collapse so much more impact and meaning.” I paused, turning away for a moment. “Because that means that everything we've seen thus far, was in fact preventable. If it wasn’t for the reality the Interlopers had created for us, where the artificial narrative benefiting a single race, becomes reality.”

With a firm nod from Vir and both of our eyes currently trained on the readings in front of us, it was time we addressed the elephant in the room.

“This is uncharted territory for me.” Vir began. “Humanity has never had an encounter with alien civilizations before, if we don’t include the limited interactions between you and a handful of humans, and the Interlopers and their war with humanity of course.” The AI paused, raising a hand up in self correction. “Scratch that, I should probably have phrased that as, humanity has never truly had any meaningful encounters on a grander scale. For us, there was no intergalactic federation, empire, or even alliance. There was just… humanity, and us, their AI creations. So, you can imagine this whole xenoarcheology thing we’re playing at right now to be quite a thrilling development for me.” Again, there was that hint of excitement. One that was infectious enough to push me to respond in kind with an affirmative nod and a wide smile.

“I admit, it’s been a while, but I’ll certainly make sure to try my hand at it. Whilst we don’t have the proper facilities, equipment, or even the protocols to meet Vanaran xenoarcheological standards… I’d say those standards were probably created to inhibit the pace of discovery.” My eyes once more focused on the scans that started showing more and more of that underground network of tunnels. “So I guess the big question to ask right now is this: should we start with the moon, where we have certain evidence of a network of abandoned tunnels and more than likely an abandoned lunar facility? Or, shall we focus our efforts on the planet instead, where there’s sure to be at least something operational down there. If not, actual, honest to ancestors, people.”

Vir paused to consider it for a moment. Which was more for show than anything given the pace of his actual thought processes.

“The moon.” Vir responded with that same, enthusiastic smile. “It might give us more context before we head down to the planet. Again, I know it could also work the other way around, with the planet giving us more context as to what we need to find here on the moon. But, since we’re here… why not get started on this unknown first?”

With a flutter of agreeable excitement from my head frills, I seconded the motion. “Let’s do it then. However, we’re still dealing with the potential for unknown dangers here. I know going in guns bared would be the more hands on approach. However, given the fact that we’re a team of two, and given the litany of unknowns we’re dealing with. I’d say we should take this entire operation with a measured level of eagerness.” I paused, making a point to tap the torso of Vir’s platform. “Do we have any more autonomous platforms capable of remote operation?”

“Yes. There’s actually a whole complement of survey drones that I can quickly tinker to fit inside of those tunnels. It’ll take an hour or so, but we should be good to go without much issue.”

With that confident proclamation out of the way and a plan now in motion, I looked back at the tunnel system that had been more or less vaguely mapped out. The finer details became sketchier the deeper it went as the sensors could only travel so far through the rock and metal. Whatever this place was, whatever that signal was, this little tangent to our primary objective would prove to be an interesting divergence that could hopefully aid us in our greater mission.