Humans Don't Hibernate [Part 34/?] (Patreon)

To say that we had a choice would be akin to asking the humans whether or not they wished to leave their homeworld to venture out into the stars. To imply that we had any other path than the one we were currently committed to, would be akin to implying that Elijah had any other path less than the one he set out to accomplish. This is all to say, if there was ever any doubt as to the path we were about to take, then this entire mission and our actions would ultimately end in a disservice to the very strength of our character.

Curiosity was a strong, resilient impulse, within all living things. It was, however, common for the civilized Vanaran to temper such impulses to ensure security through assuredness. This culture more than likely stemmed from the necessity to ensure nothing was left to chance when it came to the ultimate test of civilization: hibernation.

Yet that learned control, that sense of self-discipline, had been waning over the past few days. Indeed, as I stared at that door, as I looked on within its mysteries sealed shut by the hands of an entire squad’s worth of armed aliens… I felt no hesitation, only a growing desire to push onwards.This would’ve startled and outright mortified any Vanaran who knew me before this hibernative cycle. Whilst I was known to take risks beyond my minor noble status, this risk was leagues beyond anything any sane Vanaran would ever take.

Which begs the question… was I still sane? Was I still even me?

I knew for a fact that the old me, as much as they were completely and utterly disenfranchised with the stagnant system, was well and truly resigned to maintaining and continuing what they had. They had no desires to push the boundaries of what was socially acceptable beyond what was tolerable. And yet here I was, about to commit to a decision that could very well end our whole adventure.

All for the sake of some untested curiosity.

“So, I’m guessing we’re not turning back are we?” Vir spoke, his tone of voice hinted at little in the way of hesitation, but a sort of elated sarcasm that bordered on the absurd.

We both knew my answer, and we both knew that we were willing to push just that little extra bit further, if only to see what was on the other side of the hill.

“Hey so erm, I know that you probably have quite a lot going on in there.” The AI attempted to snap me out of my reverie. “You academic lot generally love your introspective internal monologues don’t ya?” Vir snickered. “Oh man, what I’d give to actually listen in to all of that juicy internal speeches. Just be sure to journal them or something at the end of the day so by the end of all of this we have something to fall back on once all is said and done.”

I cocked my head quizzically, my head frills fluttering in the process. “Something to fall back on?” I mimed back.

“Oh y’know, a backup career plan once this whole existential war is over and done with?” The AI snickered. “What? You think the military’s gonna give you a good enough pension to get us the retirement plan we both deserve?” There was a pause, one that was clearly purposeful given the fact that the AI’s thought processes were clearly above and beyond any organic’s. Something that I was starting to get used to, what with Vir switching back and forth between his professional instantaneous responses, and his more conversational responses that included these purposeful pauses for effect. “Actually, now that I think about it, maybe that won’t really matter. I mean, it’s been millenia, I’m sure the UN’s gotten that post scarcity economic model sorted so we’re sure to have all the retirement erm… funds? Credits? Retirement points? Whatever, you know what I mean right?” The AI ended off his tirade with a digitized facsimile of a grin.

I knew what he was trying to do. I knew that this was some attempt at absurdist humor, with results that were mixed at best. Despite this, I valued the gesture more than the content of his speech. Vir’s personality was exceedingly varied, yet it seemed to always land back at this desire to connect on some fundamental level with another.

And I could appreciate that.

In fact, it gave me the morale boost I needed to push forward with the inevitable.

“A journal would be a good idea, Vir.” I admitted with a soft nod. “Though I think starting it today would be setting the rest up for disappointment, given what we’ve seen and experienced thus far.” I paused, craning my head over back towards the screen in front of us, and the drones that were all but standing at attention for their potential demise. “And given what we’re about to learn as well…” I steadied myself, letting out a deep sigh as I reminded myself that whatever happened next, we had the capabilities to end it in a few decisive blows. “Vir, are the kinetic batteries still operable?” I asked plainly.

“Yup, the two on the ventral and two on the dorsal are still functioning, albeit at a reduced capacity.” Vir responded instantly.

“And what about the nuclear weapons? Are the warheads and delivery systems still operable?” I continued.

“The nukes? Oh, well, a handful of them actually. Quite a few have fizzled out over the years, but I’ve been doing some tweaking in the background, getting a few ready and up to scuff. We have the delivery vehicles, we just need to fix the rest of the warheads. But right now? We have a good number.” The AI quickly shifted topics, not pausing for effect this time around. “I assume you want me to prepare a quick-strike response as a contingency for what we might find once we crack that door open?”

“Yes. Plainly speaking, yes. I understand that whatever lies within there might have well and truly gone inert by this point. It’s been centuries since this civilization has been active on a scale we can recognize as a proper civilization after all. However, whatever lies in there may be a threat that surpasses the local civilization here, and may-”

“You’re implying there’s interloper influence in this system, and more specifically somewhere within that door?” Vir shot back at me, cutting me off but in effect getting to the root of the issue I was skirting around.

“Yes.” I responded again with a heavy sigh. “That’s my working hypothesis at the very least. I do not see any other answers that can so neatly tie together what we’ve seen so far. This entire base, this entire operation, the evidence of a battle so close to a sealed door with many more missing bodies, all of it practically screams tampering by an external force.” A few thoughts entered my mind, potential answers to questions that were so easily answered by the single unifying theory of interloper intervention, yet were plausible enough to be reasonable alternative theories in their own rights. “Though to be fair, we could be witnessing an internal conflict with very specific events that led to what we see now. It’s just that we lack evidence to really say either way at this point in time.” I admitted.

“Regardless of whether the object of interest behind that door is a dud or an interloper nightmare, I’d agree with your assessments on making sure we’re ready either way.” Vir affirmed.

With little in the way of any objections I simply nodded as we both trained our gazes back towards the central viewscreen, and watched as four of the five drone teams began converging on the door, plasma torches and defense weapons bared.

“Shall I do the honors?” Vir asked without a hint of hesitation as I went ahead and gave my go-ahead.

“What must be known, will be known.” I spoke with vigor, quoting what was possibly one of the only Vanarans I knew of that might have shared some semblance of sympathy to my cause. I could only wonder what my old mentor would’ve thought if he even caught a glimpse at what I was doing now.

A bright, searing, light enveloped the drone’s visual sensors for a split second before Vir had adjusted the feeds to compensate for the sudden surge in luminosity that resulted from the use of those plasma torches.

The process was slow-going, but careful and methodical, as the drones made gradual but short work of the frantic welding the aliens had done all those centuries ago. A part of me felt genuinely unnerved by the fact that we were in effect undoing the sacrifices of these aliens. Another part of me however understood that we needed to complete what they’d started. This clearly wasn’t the intended purpose of their mission, they’d simply been dispatched before they could finish it.

Seconds, and entire minutes passed us by before the door was fully cut through, and with a comically soft push of one of the drones, was pushed ajar, only to be halted mid swing.

That was enough of an opening for the drones to enter however. Though the cause of this obstruction to the door’s opening mechanism soon became clear as the cameras panned over to see what was immediately on the other side of the door.

It was more of the same space-suited aliens.

One piled on top of the other, their hands reaching for an opening mechanism that was simply nonexistent on this side of the door.

The drones counted over 20, their spacesuits fully intact, and their causes of death very much unclear.

I took a moment to pay my respects, despite knowing well that my own beliefs were all but a sham of what they once were after millenia of Interloper intervention. But a crisis of faith wasn’t on the table, at least not right now, not yet, as the drones pushed forwards towards what could only be described as a large, completely empty space carved in the form of a perfect cylinder. It was approximately five miles across, and was deep enough for our lights to be ineffective at seeing beyond a certain point. Telemetry sensors however reported that it went down a good 300 miles before all readings went dark. This was their maximum range after all.

The cylindrical chasm was encased in a solid piece of advanced metalloid composites. Ones that were completely beyond the local civilization’s technological and industrial capabilities. We knew this, because the material was practically ship grade, if not for the fact that they’d clearly been suffering from a distinct lack of maintenance over the centuries. What’s more, these walls weren’t constructed of a series of modular panels, unlike the designs we saw within the base. No. these walls were a single, continuous, uninterrupted, solid piece of metal. One that spanned the entirety of the five-mile circumference, that coated the walls hundreds of miles in either direction.

In the center of this chasm was a pillar, one that seemed to stretch the entirety of the length up and down the cylinder, and connected to that pillar were four distinct ‘bridges’ that served as the only point of entry and exit from this spindly spire.

There were clearly openings for vents, and small, almost imperceptible slits for what was at one point in time some sort of lighting fixture. None of it worked however. No air was circulating within the vents, and no lights were present aside from the lights currently emitted by our drones.

Approaching closer still, the drones caught a glimpse of something large, something of ridiculous size and proportions suspended within this pillar. Though it clearly wasn’t of mechanical make, unlike everything else within this massive space.

The object was undeniably organic, of a reddish pink, almost brown fleshy complexion. What’s more, it wasn’t static, nor did it seem like it’d long since met its end centuries ago like the dead aliens surrounding it…

It was pulsating, just ever so slightly, but enough for the drones to pick up on.

And it was moving.