Cath

The Cradle

“Thank you for submitting that proposal, Nirann. We will need assurances that the gate is only temporary, though.” President DeWinter smiled at the holographic Rothian then turned her head to address at Roth’Orsa.

“We have discussed the arrangement as a group and could potentially agree to expand the clause on exo-Cradle objects. So we can investigate this entity’s compatriots together.” The Director-General nodded encouragingly while DeWinter continued. “But we cannot agree to any expansion of our relationship regarding the Cradle. It is still our asset, and willfully relinquishing control to another civilisation would reflect poorly on this administration. Our top priority right now should be returning this thing home.”

The Cradle

When the rows of faces appeared back on the screen once the clip had finished, many of them wore truly shocked expressions. About two thirds had been instantly ejected from the meeting by the video’s clearance level, leaving only nine top officials in the conference.

Freyr knew immediately upon surveying the faces of her superiors that the Director-General had gotten his way. He’d wielded top secret footage from her morning briefing and hyperbole like a club to hammer any sense of caution or due process from his audience. She watched, exasperated, as Outremer’s high command discreetly messaged each other while the Speaker made her closing remarks.

Freyr quickly surveyed her colleagues' faces; they looked horrified with the pantomime unfolding before their eyes. She then caught 595’s eye - the agent was grim and pale, still not fully recovered from her re-entry. She gave Freyr an incomprehensible look - what was that? Pain? Fear? Sleep starved elation?

Freyr turned back and hurriedly leaned forward in her seat before the officials gave their answer. “As head of Cradle Research and Development, I would like to formally object to reuniting the artefact, codenamed Rothia 1, with the Cradle. Under Diaspora Colonial Secrets statute 43, article…61, the expedition lead can request thirty Earth days of direct study in-situ before presenting official recommendations to the-”

“Dr Lang I’m terribly sorry, but your conflict of interest with the Cradle’s operation precludes you from using DCS in this way. Especially in Rothian space.” Smith replied coolly, having obviously prepared responses to the primary arcane procedure that Freyr was privy to.

“Dr Lang... As someone who has lost a child too, I know the pain you must be feeling.” President DeWinter soothed; all of the faces had stopped talking to each other and were now watching her closely. “I would give anything to see my babies again. But we must do this, or we risk every future generation of Outreman children. For that reason, I'm authorising the repatriation of this object to the Cradle. I hope you will help us, Freyr.” Dr Lang massaged her eye sockets, resigning herself once again. She nodded slowly. "Of course, Madame President."

The Cradle

Freyr felt her ears and cheeks burning as the Speaker addressed her. She was talking about things Freyr had tried hard to suppress to fulfil her role as lead scientist. Freyr glanced up at the bank of screens and saw Outremer’s high command regarding her with...pity? Disgust? It was impossible to tell. Many of the top brass may not have been well aware of her conflict of interest. Freyr looked down at her arms and tried not to lose composure.

“How long would it take? Theoretically.” Benoit Souza spoke up. He was very soft spoken; so much that his microphone artificially enhanced the sentence. Freyr looked up, letting out a shuddering breath. “We’d need...a few months at least. Not including the lab setup.” She could tell that wasn’t the answer a lot of them wanted to hear. They had no doubt all been briefed that Outremer’s presence in the Cradle had little more than nine months left.

“I don’t want to rule anything out.” President DeWinter admitted. “How long can we resist this expulsion from the Cradle? Are there any more counter-measures we can take in the short term?” Freyr nodded, glad of the life line. “Yes, we’ve been making strides toward developing a ‘counter-insurgency’ terraform grid which will resist the corruption, and more effective weapons to-”

“Dr Lang, you’ve been away from the Cradle for weeks.” The Director-General stopped her. “The Cradle’s aggression is becoming more sophisticated faster than we can develop the means to stop it. The corruption is no longer limited to the borderlands - if i may, this is footage extracted from one of the labs in NA yesterday. Apologies, it is quite graphic.”

After a short pause, the bank of people on the screen disappeared, replaced by a video clip taken from a CraSec helmet cam. It showed a long corridor with plate glass windows looking into sub-labs. A dozen scientists sprinted toward the camera, pursued by what could only be described as a giant post-aquatic cephalopod. The thing’s body was contorting to fit into the narrow space. Three fleshy arms reached out to grab people and shove them into a beak-like mouth. The soundtrack consisted of blaring alarms and screaming.

The Director-General stopped the clip after about fifteen seconds. “That creature did not despawn after the surge had abated. It is still wreaking havoc as we speak.”

The Cradle

“Yes, you’re right. But if we could get a Terraformer and Builder inside the simulation, they could create us a lab that’ll give us a shot at realigning the languages. This would allow us unprecedented access to-’”

“Dr Lang, with all due respect; we simply don’t have time for ‘realignment’!” The Director-General interrupted her. “Even without this Hegemon threat, we are still losing a war for control of the Cradle from within. You remember that transit station where we met? It’s now an island, in the middle of an angry sea. Every day we waste means more lives lost.”

Freyr hmphed. She didn’t quite understand what her boss was doing, but she was going to fight for David, Amy, and all the other dead who she hoped were still retrievable somewhere inside the Cradle. Even if that meant being sacrificed on the altar of public opinion in the process. “It is my job to control what the Cradle interacts with. If we do as this thing says, it’s quite likely we’ll lose control of the Cradle forever, and all the lives we’ve lost will be in vain.”

Freyr licked her lips and gulped to moisten her parched throat. “There may be nothing we can do to stop it leaving and taking our best chance of surviving any potential attack with it. But give me enough time with it in its current state, and I may be able to extract the tools we need to repair the Cradle ourselves. We might even find a way to bring the Cradle dead back.”

There was a moment of what Freyr perceived as 'stunned silence' in the conference room. “Forgive me if I’m mistaken, but that sounds a lot like torture, Dr Lang.” The Director-General growled. “It is my duty to give you all of the options. Especially if they can potentially save our planet from chaos." Freyr insisted, folding her arms.

The Cradle

DeWinter nodded rigidly, lips locked together. “The people of Outremer will require evidence. We cannot just move to a war footing without tangible evidence of this threat. It is my understanding that this creature didn’t actually provide us with anything we could corroborate?” Freyr fielded this one too.“That is correct, Madame President. The team asked, but it became too weak to provide any reference points.”

Freyr turned to address the majority of the Rothian delegates next. “We should consider providing it with alternate sources of power. It could be able to use them, meaning we can attempt a safe re-entry in a couple of days. It may be willing to give us the rest of the answers we need.” Another person jumped in almost immediately from the screen. “That would be a poor substitute for moving the asset back to Outremer right away, Dr Lang. Giving it power on Rothia provides no guarantee that it will be well enough to help us with these facts.”

Freyr remembered that voice, but couldn’t place it to a face. She searched the sea of visages to try and find someone else she recognised. “Well, yes. Potentially. Who am I speaking to?” Another face appeared where one of the anonymous silhouettes had been seconds before. He had short, well-groomed grey hair, a timeless complexion and bright augmented blue eyes. Her stomach clenched, seemingly on it’s own, at the sight of him. “Director-General Smith, of The Cradle Institute. I’m pleased to see you again, Dr Lang.” He smiled.

The Cradle

DeWinter interlinked her fingers and looked gravely at the gathered congregation. “It deeply concerns us that we’d be risking it all on this entity’s plan when it may not work. What if it disappears with the Cradle and this Hegemon still attacks us? You will know already that most of our military and our defensive infrastructure is coordinated indirectly through New Antioch. There is a good reason that - the Cradle has limitless computing power and is essentially impregnable. It means we’ve been punching above our weight for centuries.”

DeWinter reached for a glass of water and looked at someone off camera. Lord Hale took over from her. His voice was storied and gravelly. “That’s correct. And it pains me to say this, but without the Cradle, we will be reliant on Human instinct for months while we rebuild our entire system. Any hope of an optimised resistance against this unknown enemy will be thrown into complete disarray. Our Navy is one of the finest in the galaxy, but without the Cradle, our response will be scrappy and inefficient to start with, at best. We cannot risk it.”

DeWinter nodded, placing the glass back down again. “Dr Lang, is there any way we can keep the Cradle in position on Outremer if we do return this creature to it?” Freyr blinked rapidly and sat up in her seat; she was starting to feel the strain of 36 hours with no sleep. “It’s hard to say, Madame President. We do not know the Cradle’s corporeal capabilities.” She thought for a moment, well aware of all the eyes on her. “It is possible we could convince this entity to stay with us if we agree to, um, join its cause. But we have to consider its other ‘comrades’ as well; something tells me it won't be well disposed to us if we don't retrieve them too.”

The Cradle

President DeWinter glanced at someone off camera, her eyes flickering as if reading text. Souza’s eyes glazed over briefly when he got a message via implant. Lord Hale just loomed into the conference room with an icy, unblinking stare. DeWinter eventually replied. “We have a lot of different opinions on recent events. The Cradle and it’s origins have been subject to robust political debate ever since we found it, three and a half centuries ago. Some of us are naturally suspicious of it, and assumed it would land us in trouble one day. And some of us are willing to lay down their lives to protect Outremer’s greatest asset.”

An aide came over to whisper in DeWinter’s ear again, but she shooed him away. “If the creature is to be believed, we could be in danger of joining a war we didn’t start, with an enemy that may be more advanced than both our civilisations. I believe the decision we need to make is whether we value our connection to this creature enough to risk peace and stability in the galaxy.”

Song Reference time

Her boyfriend,
He don't know
Anything about her,
He's too stoned,
Nintendo ()
I wish that I could make her see
She's just the flavor of the weak

It's Friday night and she's all alone
He's a million miles away
She's dressed to kill, but the TV's on
He's connected to the sound...

The Cradle

While waiting for the SCC to convene, Freyr had thrown herself at the problem again. The team rapidly filled five physical drawing boards with workings out and ideas. It eventually became clear that Outremer’s high command was unwilling to hold an audience with her while the Rothians were listening in. So Captain Andersen sent a shuttle to collect her, and Freyr answered dozens of initial questions on the short ride back to the Barbarossa. After they were satisfied, Freyr requested the craft turn around so she could return to her team.

When it came time to assemble, Freyr led her delegation into the cavernous conference room and sat in the middle of one of the square table’s sides. Most of the attendees currently in Outremer elected not to use the holographic function. Instead they displayed on a huge screen opposite her as rows of heads and shoulders in boxes. A couple of people even declined to send a video feed, so their box featured a nondescript silhouette of a head in their place.

Around half of the people Freyr had recently debriefed in the shuttle were present. She found President DeWinter, head of the armed forces Group Admiral Lord Hale and Director of Defence Intelligence, Benoit Souza among the sea of faces. They were the people she primarily had answered to before. They were all now in formal dress and looked extremely serious. When the Speaker arrived, an aide appeared in the President’s window to whisper in her ear; one of her eyebrows raised slightly.

After a little while, absolute quiet descended on the hall and the various shufflings stopped. Outremer’s president began transmitting sound to formally greet the room, her face growing larger to fill half of the screen. Her voice was smooth, melodious and stateswomanlike. “Hello. Thank you for joining us this morning. I appreciate the effort many of you have made to be here at such short notice. These are not the circumstances I would have chosen to meet so many honourable members of Rothian society for the first time. However, we must play the cards we are dealt. This is a situation with the potential to affect us all, but i am confident we can come up with an agreeable plan of action. As we are in your chamber, perhaps you would care to fire first?”

The Cradle

The Human science team and Sacred Band piled into a cramped conference room next to the lab. Freyr played Rareth’s recording via the room’s main holographic projector, with viewpoints and sensory data piled up on various other displays. She spooled through at a quick pace, stopping when people had things to add or something interesting was happening. There were a few exclamations and shivers at what the team were put through.

Freyr deftly chopped up the data into dozens of different workstreams and divided them up between her subordinates. They were tasked with analysing everything from the simulation’s geology to the path this entity may have taken before crashing on Rothia. With the precision of a master sculptor, Freyr cut the expedition tape down to a manageable fifteen minute clip complete with all the important annotations.

It was at this point that 595 stumbled in, freshly woken from her seizure and trailing two of the medics. The Agent insisted a few moments were redacted from the final version. Freyr reluctantly agreed, providing 595 plopped down on a free seat and let the medics finish tending to her.

Within two hours, everyone was up to speed and a dossier containing a summary of events, possible scenarios and potential next steps had been created. At this point, Freyr dismissed the Sacred Band and the Drs Ngata and Wetherall to get some downtime. She tried to dismiss 595 too, but she impolitely refused.

Freyr ultimately called Captain Andersen and the Security Council delegate to update them on the whole story. She followed up by sending the Captain an encrypted copy of the dossier. “My god.” Andersen muttered, once she'd finished.

“This is classified Top Secret. I want you to send this to the rest of my team at CRD, and request an emergency session of the Special Circumstance Committee. Tell them the Rothians want to meet within one Outremer day, and that they’re going to want to watch the video first.” The delegate nodded. “Consider it done.”