Cath

The Cradle

Dr Girard nodded in general agreement, leaning forward to poke her head through the gap in the seats. “We really are in uncharted territory now, so all possibilities must remain on the table. As for what they said, we all know the Cradle and the Rothian Object are prolific data managers. They could’ve ‘said’ everything that’s happened in all our lifetimes, including minute detail on the last six hours...Are you alright? You sound breathless.”

“Tangier Two, come in, over.” Osman said out loud from the front. No reply. “GCHQ, what’s your status, over?” A painful screech and warble blasted the inside of the car. “GCHQ, we’re getting a lot of interference this end, please repeat.” Osman said, before turning to face Vreta. “Try your friends.”

"We really need to figure out a better way to communicate. Both of these environments seem to block radio signals at will." Freyr mumbled to herself, nursing her head. Suddenly, the driver swore and swerved to avoid someone running out in front of them. Freyr and Dr Girard both shouted in fright. Gunfire erupted from the grand entranceway to one of the blocks on their left. “They’re here! Help us!” The runner screamed.

The Cradle

Since the Cradle had never permitted flight over a certain altitude, the area colonised by Humans had a road network more reminiscent of Earth than Outremer. The last six months had re-energised a military industrial complex previously engrossed by spaceships to deliver first-class land vehicles for CraSec. The convoys waiting to take the teams in different directions used state of the art hover-mobility. Instead of wheels, the vehicles had powerful magnetic emitters which kept them just a few feet off the road.

Freyr almost didn’t realise they were vehicles in her groggy state. Even the tanks at either end of the column were almost completely silent. She let Osman chuck her into the back of an armoured car, next to Dr Girard and behind Vreta and Agent 595. The Major then jogged around the back and got into the opposite passenger seat. “Ok, allons’y! Package secure. Callsign Tangier, you have a green light to proceed.” With just a gentle hum, the convoy began powering forwards out of the checkpoint.

Osman checked the clock on her HUD. They were running behind schedule already. She turned around in her seat to check out the passengers behind her. “Everybody alright? There is water in the door compartment.” 595 leaned forward and threw up again on her armoured feet. She followed up by spitting out a wad of phlegm, then wiping her mouth. “It’s kicking my butt, what was that?”

Dr Girard pulled the stopper out of one of the water bottles and placed it in Freyr’s shaking hands. “We talked about this as a possibility; that the Cradle and the Object could communicate through us in a more immediate way, like neurons moving through a synapse. You all went inside the Object on Rothia, correct?”

The convoy took a sharp right, heading off the square and onto one of New Antioch’s main artery roads. Freyr drank deeply from the bottle, then, feeling hot, she poured some on her upturned face. She wasn’t listening to anyone in the car; she was still trying to figure out the voice, or feeling, that’d washed over her in those few seconds back in the tent. Why did it feel so familiar?

The Cradle

Osman threw Freyr back into the checkpoint’s transit station and keyed in an emergency extraction from a nearby panel. Nothing happened. The rending squeal issuing from all around them ceased as quickly as it had begun. Activating comms out loud so everyone could hear, Osman called the Bridge District. “Theta Company, report!”. Heavily distorted shouts and warbles answered her. “Come in!”.

“These things love running interference, don’t they?” Dr Wetherall whined, massaging the back of his head while struggling to his feet. Osman ignored him. “The transit network is down, and comms are funny…” She looked at the map again, refreshing the energy chart. Massive ripples ringed the Bridge, with other smaller hotspots all over the city. “Thrace, get down there right away. They need help. Take them with you. We stick to the mission!” Osman ordered.

The gruff, grey-haired soldier saluted, before grabbing Dr Wetherall and his understudy. He motioned for Void Company to follow him out of the tent. Osman marched back to the transit station, where Freyr had stood up and was staggering weakly towards her. Osman grabbed the Doctor and held her up. “Vreta’Sori, Dr Girard, take the Agent out to the convoy. Move!” The Agent in question was on all fours by the map table, just finished with throwing up a small puddle of viscous liquid.

The Cradle

Osman nodded, grabbing a repeater from a nearby rack. “Parfait. You can ride on the tanks. Let's go then, there is no time to waste. Thrace will-...” Suddenly, lights blinked all over the map and Freyr’s pad pinged rapidly. The flood lamps bathing the square flickered, and a tremendous grinding sound boomed from all around. The floor shook violently, throwing people off balance.

A sharp stabbing pain pricked the back of Freyr’s head; she cried out, clasped the back of her skull with one hand and slid down the table onto the floor. 595 grabbed Freyr under one arm and started pulling her up, until a blinding light behind her eyes hit like a hammer. The Agent arched her back and screamed at the ceiling of the checkpoint, her eye augments turning on and making everyone in the space appear blue for a moment. Then she collapsed, smacking her cheek on the side of the table.

After a couple of agonising moments, the pain disappeared as quickly as it had come. Freyr opened her eyes to find Osman dragging her up to her feet. “Stand up! We are LEAVING!” She saw the Major's mouth moving, almost completely drowned out by the deafening noise around them. Freyr shook her head weakly in protest as Osman pulled her towards the transit station. “Can’t...leave…”

The Cradle

Freyr pouted, unsure how to respond to a question like that. She’d never expected to be giving directives to a very imposing group of alien soldiers. “Erm, they’re both quite important…” She pulled a pad from the small rucksack she’d logged in with and laid it on the map table. Purple energy spikes overlaid the map like mountain ranges.

“The Bridge District is a hotspot for Cradle activity, which makes it more dangerous.” Freyr patted Dr Wetherall’s arm. “The boys are going to help the crew there keep our connection between the Vault and the Cradle intact. That’s absolutely crucial.”

Major Osman leaned over and zoomed the map in to look at just the Bridge District in particular. “Theta Company has secured the inner compound, protecting a staff of one hundred technicians, here.” A glowing red set of buildings stood out from the power base’s large square maze.

“Right. And the alternative is to come with us to the government communications HQ.” Freyr jabbed a finger at the large circular complex on the opposite side of the city. “We’re going to try and talk to the entity, and or the Cradle itself. “There’s no telling how either will react, but GCHQ has the advantage of being a fortress. There are also likely to be more terraformers and builders on station there than at the power plant.” Freyr looked at Osman, who nodded in confirmation.

She then stared up at Eti. “So which is it?”

The Cradle

They were in one corner of Foundation Square; a large paved area surrounding an urban park. The statue of Outremer’s first colonists raising a flag together emerged from the tree line.

New Antioch was still brightly lit from above by large floodlights. The golden domes and spires still stood. But Freyr couldn’t make out any of the city’s usual hustle and bustle. The purposeful movement of staff between the ancient buildings had been replaced by a febrile mass of soldiers out on the street.

Freyr checked that her team had logged in and were feeling alright. She’d brought in Dr Wetherall and his understudy as Systems experts, and the promising young researcher Dr Girard. She was confident they could all be trusted to follow instructions. If the worst came, they’d have the best chance of holding the creature flat while she struck the killer blow. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that, but it was best to be prepared for anything.

“Okay, attention please.” Osman strode over to a map table and projected a hologram of the city in 3D. “We’ve secured the places each team needs to go. There are two convoys waiting outside to get you in position.” The map showed two arrows, one red and one blue, winding through the streets before arriving at two separate buildings. “Dr Lang, I will ride with you. Sergeant Thrace will ride with Dr Wetherall. Once your work is complete, we will exfil via this same checkpoint, or secure secondary locations." Osman put a hand on her chestplate. "Our role is to keep you alive, so please follow all our instructions.”

Major Osman turned to the squad of Rothians. “We weren’t told about Rothian support. What do you want to do?”

The Cradle

Freyr smiled, pathetically grateful for Marae's calming demeanor. It felt like right now, she was at the tip of a titanic spear, moving wildly of its own volition. With the Sliske protocol now being activated, she knew Outremer’s entire infrastructure would rapidly be locked down in preparation for potential volatility. This highly choreographed chain of events had been planned by Outremer’s civil service at breakneck speed over the last few months.

Freyr briefly regretted not ringing President DeWinter herself, to plead again for an evacuation. She wondered where the head of the government was right now. In a bunker somewhere, dealing with a bombing and potential disintegration of Outreman society? Contemplating martial law? It didn’t matter now. She had her instructions, and the authority. She just had to do her best now.

“Yes, thank you. We’ll use them.” Freyr replied to Marae. “The Facilitator will know the Vault inside out, I presume. Use him if you need him. Let's keep comms tight, alright?” She turned to look at the Rothian soldiers taking up space in her already crowded command centre. “Osman, would you take these guys to the Green Room please? Get them settled in. You two as well.” Freyr looked at 595 and Vreta’Sori at this point.

595 looked at the Facilitator, who was currently still on the phone. ”There’s no time for that call with the DG. Let him know I’ll come in once the dust has settled here. Proceed with the plan until then.” The bald man glared at her. ”Alright. Don’t screw this up.” 595 nodded in response.

The Green room was long, thin and tight, with a belt of extremely robust vertical harnesses facing an equally thin observation room through a thick glass screen. 595 applied the same dark red clay to her face in a spiral pattern, starting in the divot between her nose and upper lip. She then let the technicians connect her up to her harness next to Vreta and Osman. Her mind was racing underneath the calm exterior. It was finally happening. “This is history in the making, girls and boys.” She announced over the thunderous background noise. “Let's put on a show.”

Freyr walked in, having made last-minute preparations with her team, and got secured. “Good luck everyone.” she transmitted, just before the harnesses initiated.

The Cradle

“I can’t sanction that.” Freyr shook her head immediately. “The Cradle is nothing like the Rothia Sim for AIs - it's utterly unforgiving. However advanced you think you are, it will find a way to consume you. We can’t risk it. I’m sorry.”

“Power expenditure rising!” Someone called out. Freyr’s gaze snapped away from Nirann immediately and identified who was reporting in. “Show me.” She commanded, moving quickly across the blue-lit room to a long row of consoles facing the Object’s porthole. The young researcher pulled up a larger graph showing energy the Object was deploying inside its hermetic chamber.

It was still tiny by comparison to the Cradle, but its effort was tightly controlled, and no longer seemed intent on the dummy array. “It’s sniffing the partition again. How does it know where the Cradle is?” They speculated, incredulous. Absolutely no signals from the Cradle could escape the confines of the Vault. The only way out for its emissions was through the nest of filters and comms equipment on the top face.

“It’s much cleverer than all of us.” Freyr concluded, poring over the details. “The engineers just sent their report; they can’t keep the doors closed indefinitely.” Dr Wetherall shot Freyr a serious stare from across the room. She nodded. “The countermeasures were worth a shot, but I’m afraid we need to go in right away.”

Freyr straightened up, levelling a troubled look at Marae before and clapping her hands loudly. “Ok listen up!” She shouted over a growing hum from machinery built into the walls and floors all around them. “I’m our timeline forward. Get set for doors open in one hour! Those of you entering the Cradle with me, be ready in the Green Room in five! Facilitator, inform upstairs to initiate the Sliske protocol, right now.” The bald man, sweating a bit, nodded before grabbing a hardline and began keying in a passcode immediately

Freyr then turned back to Marae. “Can you hold things down here while I go in?”

The Cradle

Freyr nodded, pretending to think it over and trying not to appear nervous. It seemed Marae had still not fully understood the powers this new codex afforded them. This had been Freyr’s hope and intention - the next part would’ve been significantly harder if she knew the truth. Her top-secret directive from the top of government was to eject the Object from the Cradle if things went badly.

A proxy from the President’s staff had opened a secure direct line to her via Captain Andersen, after the incident inside the Rothian asset’s simulation. It’d become clear to them that the entire venture was compromised, and that they couldn’t reasonably stop it without losing the confidence of the government. Apparently, the anti-Cradle faction within Parliament held strong momentum, and saw this recoupling as an opportunity for a new beginning.

The proxy asked for assurances that they’d be able to persuade the Cradle to stay in position, at least over the short term. Freyr said no such guarantee could be made. So they ordered her to make a contingency plan.

“Agreed. I’ve already got the three volunteers I need from my team. Just enough people to operate the essentials, who know it best.” Freyr turned to Vreta and 595. “You don’t have to come, but I could use a couple of sets of ‘layman’ hands, so to speak. I can’t guarantee your safety, but you already know that.”

595 smiled, standing up tall. “I thought you’d never ask.”

The Cradle

“Well…” Freyr tried to collect her thoughts. Marae made a lot of good points. Was she making bad choices right now? “We’re unable to influence the Cradle’s internal systems from outside. We’re only able to interpret and redirect the signals it emits...This docking array is the first step in...years of development towards some kind of exterior command module. But right now, if something were to go wrong, our best chance of correcting things will be inside the Cradle. New Antioch is something of a ‘cockpit’, see? Or at least a saddle with stirrups. For when we need to do more than observe.

Freyr chuckled, feeling exhausted at this point. “Whether it’s wise to go in or not... I think we all understand the risks by now. But I have instructions to superintend from wherever gives us the biggest element of control over proceedings. There are potentially millions of lives at stake above ground, which the government saw fit to keep in play. I intend to keep them safe.”