Tulon sat on a rock, watching as Gyre worked on the tower that could speak to heaven.
She drummed her thumbs against her thighs, and tried to process everything that she had learned since she had arrived at this island -- but...it was all so much. Too much. An impossible amount to grapple with.
Chinsara had no such issues.
"So, we...are...all...the descendants of-"
"People who came here for a good time, yeah," Gyre said, sounding a bit distracted. "Come on..." His fingers worked on some ancient looking wires and cables that he had pulled from the tower. The tower itself -- the ansible, as Gyre had referred to it -- was not the most auspicious thing that Tulon had ever seen. It was a rectangular shape of grayish metal that emerged from the jungle floor and thrust up to the heavens. It had been covered entirely by vines and moss when they had arrived, but Gyre had pulled the vines away with ease and left it clean and bare.
Then he had sworn a lot.
"I don't understand, what...how...how!?" Chinsara asked.
Gyre sighed. "Okay, imagine it like this. What if you could change your body the same way you could change your clothing?" He asked. "Don't ask how, just imagine you can. Now, imagine, then, if you could sculpt worlds like clay. If you want an ocean, you make an ocean. If you want mountains, you can get a mountain. Okay?" At her nod, he continued. "So, some people, thousands of years ago, wanted a world that suited them and would be entertaining in a very specific way..."
"They made this
whole
world just for entertainment?" Chinsara sounded almost offended.
"World crafting is a high art in the Galactic Concord," Gyre said, leaning back down and scooting his head and shoulders into the belly of the ansible as he started to work on it again. "And I don't think they planned for it to get knocked out of commission like this."
"So, our great, great, great, great, great, great grandparents knew all this and just didn't write it down? They didn't tell their children?" Chinsara asked.
"Oh, they didn't know, I don't think. This was one of the full immersion parks. They did a complete memory wipe before arriving -- then when their tour is over, they can come back, their old memories are reasserted, and the entertainment sticks with them," Gyre said, his voice muffled, and full of grunting as he worked. "The idea is to see who would survive longest, who would conquer the most territory...that kind of thing. Then, once it's all wrapped, you get to admire what you managed in a recording taken from orbit."
"That's insane," Chinsara said.
"Yeah, well, it's fallen out of style over the past few centuries."
"Oh, well, thank the Goddess!" Chinsara said, standing up and beginning to stalk left and right, her hands on her hips.
Yetna laughed. It was not a health laugh.
She was standing off by the corner of the clearing that surrounded the ansible, and as Tulon watched, she picked up a rock, tossed it into the air, then whacked it with a branch. The branch cracked at the end, splintering, and she let go of it, so it sailed into the woods. "Well, that's just
dandy
! Our lives are fucking pointless stupid goddess damned jokes then!" She laughed again, even more hysterically.
Gyre shoved himself out from under the ansible. "That's not the case," he said, seriously.
"Oh? We're the descendants of horny idiots from the stars who wanted to look like hot shark girls!" Yetna snapped. "Everything we fought for has been fucking
pointless
!"
"No," Gyre said, his voice firm. "Because this place hasn't been a paradise planet, or a tourist destination, for two thousand years or more. A planet's just a planet. People are just people. It doesn't matter if you were put here by nature or by design -- what matters is what you've done. And you? You chose to turn your back on a megalomaniac who might
know all of this
and chose to destroy and conquer instead of educate and help. That matters way more than who your ten times removed great grandmother was."
Tulon felt her stomach tighten and her heart flutter at that. She stood, pushing herself to her feet, and put her hand on Yetna's shoulder before the other woman could respond to Gyre. She squeezed and Yetna closed her mouth, actually taking the time to consider what he had said.
"Have you gotten into touch with anyone else?" She asked, seriously.
"No...and that's what worries me," Gyre said, looking at her -- his concerns masking his normal awkwardness around her. He sighed, then laid onto his back, staring up into the bright, blue-white sky that hung overhead. They had been here all evening. "I got into contact with the Corps, but they didn't recognize my auth codes. Those codes change every month or two, so that's not shocking. But I think they're disregarding the signal because the Concord registers this place as a theme park planet."
"Don't they know that it's been missing for thousands of years?" Chinsara asked.
"Imagine if, uh, a random beggar came up to you on the streets of Queen's Crown," Gyre said, still looking up at the sky. "How would you know that he had been missing for ten years? There are more theme park planets than you'd think -- and even if this place made a huge splash when it dropped out of the Concord, that was two
thousand
years ago. The Concord is an incredibly stable society...some might even say stagnant..." He sighed. "But there's so much trivia that gets learned and forgotten in two thousand years."
They were all silent for a bit.
"Then call someone else," Tulon snapped. "Even we know that there's more people you can talk to than just the Corps!"
"I-" Gyre flushed. "I can't."
"Why not!?" Tulon asked, striding forward.
"Because I don't know any other com coordinates!" Gyre said, sighing. "I...that stuff was all handled by my officers -- all the pre-logged com coordinates on this thing are thousands of years out of date, they're signaling to planets that might not even exist anymore, or that have changed their cords." He groaned. "We have a working phone and no
goddamn
number."
Tulon frowned. She stood above the beautiful, frustrating, infatuating man. "Okay. Then what
do
we get by being here?"
Gyre sighed. "We get...access to the automation that still exists." He closed his eyes. "We have the orbital defenses, some security systems, uh, the..." He stopped.
"What?" Tulon asked, squatting down and glaring at him.
"...the backups," Gyre said.
"The backups of what?" Tulon asked.
"...of people," Gyre opened his eyes. "The final safety precaution, to ensure that a vacation doesn't become an obituary. The planet has a huge backup store of personalities, logged and preserved, right below us."
Tulon's brow furrowed.
"Tulon, your husband might be alive," Gyre whispered.
***
Roxi dropped from E-space and to the edge of Omicron Pegasus 52a's solar system with a crackling wave of ultraviolet light. She hovered in space and, for a moment, just...stared.
Supergiant stars were not things that one could take lightly. Maps of the Galactic Concord tended to paint a rosy, comforting picture of the galaxy: A thin band of bright golden paint, wrapped around the map of the galaxy, representing the Habitable Zone that the Concord had colonized and occupied for nearly five thousand years straight. But that was hideously inaccurate -- because even the Habitable Zone was actually not very habitable. There were millions of stars contained in it, and of those stars, the prepondenace of them were either too small and hot or too large and cold for them to create habitable planets.
That didn't mean that these systems were unexplored or even unoccupied. There was famous worlds like Devil's Den and Theerinak which orbited around hostile stars.
But by and large?
People knew to stay away.
Omicron Pegasus 52a slapped Roxi in the face with how most humans would never have stopped here -- and she felt a superstitious shiver slide along her spine and up to the middle of her metallic shoulder blades. It was not merely the size of the thing -- which dominated the hemisphere of sky she could see with her eyes, consuming space like a vast red pit. It was the
color
. The blazing, bright, brilliant red color of it, roaring and roiling, banded with the shimmering curves of magnetic storms that sent up glittering columns of stellar matter into the void, only for them to drop back down onto the hellish cauldron of the supergiant's surface.
There were no planets. There were no asteroids.
Omicron Pegasus 52a would never have allowed such trifling things as partner bodies exist, not without drawing them into its bulk and eating them.
[Wow,] Hugh whispered.
[We're here to do a job, everyone,] Heinlein said and Roxi squared her shoulders.
"Right," she said into the emptiness of space. The sound didn't actually leave her lips, but it did transmit through her head as she started to soar towards the supergiant. "Are we getting the data we need, Caracas?"
[Running initial tests,] Carcass said. [The star looks like she only has a few million years left on the cosmic lifespan. She's a geezer.]
Roxi smiled as she started to orbit around the star, careful to keep herself at sub-relativistic speeds. She looked left, right, up and down, making sure to check every quadrant she could, to make sure there was no sign of others ships. Her senses, attuned and primed for this kind of environment, picked out movement that should have been impossible for a human eye to see...but that was because Roxi
wasn't
human anymore. The automation in her body turned the camera-signals into something that her still quite fleshy brain could process...