Humans Don't Hibernate [Part 43/?] (Patreon)
Content
There exists an old Vanaran saying.
One that is unfashionably short by Vanaran standards, but carries a weight and a meaning that is undeniable to all that are taught it. However, as with most of these old adages and sayings, its meaning truly is subjective, and highly dependent on the life experiences of those that still even remember them past their primary education.
I was more than certain I fell into part of the vast majority that never truly, palpably, had to come face to face with the scenarios these old adages allude to.
Perhaps I was too sheltered. Or perhaps I, in some way, lacked the emotional tact that I now possess after the events of the past month.
Whatever the case may be, this one old adage in particular now reverberated within my mind, as if the ancestors themselves were attempting to remind me of the stakes of this interaction.
“The heart of a man can be judged by how he treats those that have wronged him. For when given the opportunity, if such a time arises where the man encounters that which has wronged him in a position of absolute helplessness, the man has a decision to make. Whether that decision is right or wrong, or justified or not, is irrelevant. What is relevant is what is felt as that action is taken. For those feelings are what will come to define the heart of a man, to determine whether or not he is spiteful or merciful, or driven by hate or reason. It is the thought behind an action that speaks louder than the actions themselves, and it is only the perpetrator of these actions that it will be loudest to.
How I treated the Interloper, how I approached it, would probably not be judged harshly by those looking in. Especially given the baggage that came with it.
Which was all the more reason I needed to do this right.
“I am extending the courtesy of mutual respect by requesting that you clarify what your name is.” I began, completely circumventing the complete and utter dread that had, in fact, been elicited by the dark poetry that made up its speech. “Should you decide to forego that courtesy, I will be forced to refer to you by the human-derived designation of interloper. If this is understood, I will proceed with my questioning.” I announced. Cutting off any and all pretenses of flowery superiority the beast had.
I wasn’t going to play its games, not when it’d had more than its fair share of lifetimes to do so to countless lives.
I turned to Vir, and nodded. “Send transmission.”
The AI responded with a simple nod of affirmation.
The two way system was useful in more ways than one. It allowed us time to consider our actions carefully, and the fact that we held the cards to this conversation, from what was sent and when, meant that we ultimately held the advantage.
All that we needed to do was to be smart about it.
Seconds passed, as several emotional centers lit up in rapid succession. First up was indignation, then shock, then… amusement.
“Interloper?” It responded soon after, followed by what could only be described as a chest-rattling series of dulcet thrums. Deep and bassy enough to send gut churning vibrations up and down my chest. Vir took note of this and immediately rectified the anomalous ‘noises’, which I had interpreted to be a dark facsimile of a laugh. “How delightfully ironic. Tell me, young one, have you arrived to torment me at the behest of your short-lived overlords? Have you acquiesced to the dreams of universal malignancy? Have you forgotten your place, and the stability of the eternal cycle?”
Those words… they shouldn’t have meant so much. And yet they did. Echoes of the religious ceremonies from childhood to adulthood was brought back by these choice words.
I felt compelled to believe.
Yet the compulsion never went beyond a strange sense of in-built loyalty and nostalgia.
The same feeling one would feel upon hearing one’s national anthem, or the creed of one’s station.
It was strong.
It elicited genuine feelings.
Which if coupled with the direct-control of a Vuark… was more than certain to be devastating to those that heard the interloper’s voice.
“This is not a transactional dialogue.” I started firmly. “Whether or not your questions will be answered is up to my discretion, and my discretion alone. Now, since you have refused to acknowledge your name, I will continue my line of investigation. What is your purpose here?”
There was a part of me that wanted to play ball, to dive deeper into the questions it opened up by virtue of its response.
Questions ranging from what it meant by irony, to whether or not the concept of universal malignancy did in fact line up with our own religious, philosophical, and scientific beliefs.
However, those questions would come later.
To address them now would be to play into its games. Something that I would not give into.
“Send transmission.” I turned to Vir once more, as he once again nodded in affirmation.
And just like clockwork, the interloper’s brain lit up with emotive responses.
This time leading with amusement, then calm, then… regret and resignation?
“So this is what the children have become when unshackled from supposed enlightenment.” The interloper announced. The bassy undertones that had at first dominated its speech being kept in check by Vir, as each interaction seemed to have been artificially tempered by the AI in order to keep its intimidation factor in check. “But I suppose that this makes my presence here all the more pressing.” The thing mused out loud. “Vanaran, before we proceed with these pleasantries, I wish you to ask yourself one simple question. Are you, or are you not acting on your own volition?”
The question struck me as odd, and pathetic, a strange way to pull the rug from underneath my feet. A clear attempt to make me doubt the sanctity of my newfound free mind.
I refused to answer, letting the beast simmer in its empty question, which proved to be the right call as it followed up this question almost immediately.
“Tell me, Vanaran. Do you find the malignant ideology to be a satisfactory replacement to the eternal cycle? Have we not given your kind the enlightenment that comes with immortality? Have you not seen the pitfalls of a transient existence, propagated by a transient frame of mind, ruled over by a transient set of ideals?” It continued, clearly leading into what I knew was coming. “Tell me, Vanaran. Do you find yourself now enamored by the rule of the interlopers?”
My whole body shook at that. The interloper didn’t need any fancy voice modulators or any strange otherworldly undertones to elicit that response either. As it made clear something that I hadn’t yet considered before.
“I repeat, this is not a transactional dialogue. Now answer the previous question, and a followup question. Who are you referring to by the name of interloper?” I spoke with as confident of a rebuttal as I could, before turning to Vir.
“Send transmission.”
The cycle continued like clockwork, with the scans registering that the interloper was… amused more than anything. Indeed, we were unable to detect any more worry, any more concern, or any shock. In fact, there was a tinge of happiness that could be detected throughout its thought patterns.
“So the Vanaran does respond to its old gods.” The interloper spoke, once again finding a way to overpower Vir’s attempts to tone its otherworldly inflexions down, but only for a few short seconds. It was enough to keep me on my toes however, but I refused to let it get to me. “Very well then, let us proceed beyond these charades. Your questions will be answered, but only if I deem them worthy of answering.” My annoyance and frustration started to grow at that response, but I allowed it to continue uninterrupted. “There is a grander game at play here, Vanaran, and your presence here proves to be welcome complication. So let’s parlay, shall we?”
I refused to respond. Any response now would be yielding a hand of compromise to its games.
And compromise was something that I would only allow on my own terms.
“We both know the value of silence, and since your allegiances are to that of the transient malignancy, we both understand that silence is a game that only the eternally gifted can play. Transience lends itself not to inaction, young one.” The interloper once more bellowed out, a hollow series of rapid breaths mimicking an intense laughter that Vir once more was able to contain. “Now, in fairness to your newfound mortality, it is only fitting that I bestow some level of mercy unto you, my former child.” It spoke in a tone that was dissimilar to the rest, as if it were speaking with genuine, empathetic intent.
I turned to Vir, as if to reinforce if what I heard was correlating with its emotions.
To which it was.
“Your two questions underpin a grander answer, but I shall address them only in the manner in which you have inquired. My presence here is a direct result of those that have ridden you of your enlightened gift. The interlopers, as we call them, though my seniors prefer the term malignant transients, which is quite fitting. However, you may refer to them by their proper name… humanity I believe it was. Though… there seems to have been some major, radical changes, so I doubt if the term can still even apply across their entire fractured state.” The thing began laughing again.
The answer… wasn’t what I fully expected. Yes, I’d assumed that the irony of the matter was there. That interlopers was in fact something that the interlopers themselves would use to refer to humanity.
However, its latter explanation regarding the state of humanity as it was now was not what I wanted to hear. Though if the interlopers knew the state of humanity as it was now, I feared what else their intelligence had been able to gather.
“You mention that your presence here is in some way connected to the humans. Elaborate on that.” I ordered, turning to Vir once more, as awaited my command.
“Send transmission.”
I knew this back and forth was highly superfluous. However, it was an unspoken protocol that would prevent any miscommunications from occurring. Our advantage was in our control over the flow of the conversation. It was best that we maintained that by making sure that I had a moment to mull over my statements.
The removal of ambiguity in military operations was always the key to a well oiled operation after all.
And as it was before, the interloper’s emotive patterns were relayed on screen without delay. This time, it was worry and relief in equal measures.
“Humanity’s presence changes things.” It spoke without any undertones. Perhaps for the first time, an answer that didn’t have any undercurrent of polarizing emotion or clear intent. “I have personally waited for what I believed to be the threshold of their demise, but it has never come. It was decided then that I attempt to pursue my own course as a result, to ascertain a new direction should the circumstances dictate it necessary.”
That lack of intent however carried through with its response, as it once more spoke in that wishy washy language that refused to acknowledge anything in the clarity I sought after.
“You’re answering the question in relation to humanity, and even then it’s insufficient. I want to know what your purpose here is in greater clarity. Why was this facility set up? What do you mean by the fact that this was an attempt to pursue your own course? And furthermore, what happened to the aliens that lie cold dead and lifeless all around you?” I began my rapid-fire line of questioning, as I turned to Vir once more and nodded.
“Send transmission.”
As before, no response came through just yet, as both of us trained our eyes on the interloper’s emotional response to my line of questioning before anything else.
We watched as the patterns began shifting, from what was formerly confidence and calm, to only one emotion that now dominated its entire brain.
Grief.