EliteCommander

The Cradle

Vreta was less prone to notice odd behavior among Humans compared to Freyr, since his concept of what constituted “odd” for them was not as refined as hers. However, even he could recognize when he was being watched. He was not suprised when they were finally approached, though he feigned enough shock as would be appropriate for a Rothian businessman in his position.

Vreta listened to the story that the woman weaved about protecting Freyr from Skinners, but he remained unconvinced. It sounded to him like they just wanted to get them away from a public location. Certainly, he did not trust that any member of the Outremer government would be honest with them; not after their encounter with the man that had interviewed them outside. Vreta knew this game all to well to simply fall into a trap blind. Though, that did not mean he was unwilling to turn a trap to his advantage.

Before the woman was even finished speaking, Vreta was already giving his program new instructions. Instead of observing himself, he had it observe the government agent, and identify anyone who might be associated with her. More importantly, he wanted it to observe their communications. In addition to observing anyone she communicated directly with, it also searched other channels for any keywords that might be related. Skinners, government callsigns, anything out of the ordinary for civilian communications.For now, he still had his program keep itself safe to avoid detection, but his program could run circles around Human intrusion detection systems, and it was still not doing anything beyond listening.

Vreta was not particularly keen on stepping into danger again, but there were differences this time around. Namely, he was not in the Cradle, and he now had access to his fully array of equipment and capabilities. Whether Skinners or government agents, they did not know who they were dealing with. “I do. I want both of us to be safe. I will help, but why bring her to her apartment? There are more well-protected options. Bring us to the Rothian Embassy and no terrorist will be able to touch her, or me.” He suggested. If nothing else, it was a statement that would get those listening in talking in a way his program could hone in on.

The Cradle

Vreta leaned back somewhat on the bench and hummed to himself. There were a few, long seconds of silence from him as he ruminated on the situation, which he filled by finishing off the rest of his food. Inwardly, he wished he had been given the chance to study the Cradle in-depth before all of this had happened. The Rothians had been trying to gain access to study the Cradle for many years, and had made some generous offers in that time. If his people had the time for proper research, he had no doubt they could have come to understand it. In his mind, Humanity simply was not yet advanced enough to comprehend what they had in their possession.

Once he was finished with his roll, he turned his head back towards Freyr. Despite his opinions of Humanity’s usage of the Cradle, he did have to admit that her reasoning was quite sound. She had come to potential conclusions even he had not considered. Granted, he was working with much less direct experience with the Cradle.

“Your proposals are reasonable. Really, they could be correct.” Vreta finally replied. “An immature AI, one based on learning algorithms, that had not yet been given enough data to mature would match the behaviors we have seen. But why would there be a learning AI within a supercomputer as advanced as the Cradle, I wonder? In Rothian history, there was a time when our most potent AI required a period of time to collect data and learn. However, we have come to the point where we can create AI that are both exceptionally capable of learning, and are mature from their creation. I have to imagine that the creators of the Cradle would have been capable of the same thing. Unless..well, I suppose the theoretical limits of an AI that begins immature are higher, in the long-term. It would have to be quite an important project to justify the inconvenience, though.”

Once again, Vreta sighed. “Like you said, though, this is all just theory. Speculation. Regardless of the nature of the AI or its purpose, more needs to be learned about it. And the Cradle in general. People have been killed. Terrorists, soldiers, and innocent civilians alike. It is clear that this intelligence, whatever it is, does not discriminate with its victims, and I do not see any reason to believe it is going to stop. And your world, Outremer…perhaps this is just my impression, but your world is exceptionally intertwined with the Cradle. If your people lose control of the Cradle, I do not think it is an exaggeration to say that the society you have built here could come to an end. It is past time for games; it is my opinion that your people should seek aid from the Rothians. I am fairly certain my government would be willing to help.”

The Cradle

Again, there was a pause from Vreta. His severe expression may have even been readable to a Human. He looked around for a few seconds at the crowd around them, then leaned in somewhat closer to Freyr to speak more quietly. Conveniently, given the sensitive and quite personal nature of the topic to Freyr, it did make sense for him to avoid speaking loudly enough to draw the attention of someone around them. At the same time, he also made his first, subtle changes to what the cameras could hear. He did not change any of the words he spoke, but rather slightly enhanced the voices of others near the camera, while also slightly reducing Vreta’s own volume from the perspective of the camera. Altogether, it prevented his words from being distinguished from the rest of the noise of the crowd.

“I do wish I had more solid answers. Even with my expertise on advanced computer systems, the Cradle is still a mystery. I can only make guesses, but what I can say is that the Cradle is an advanced computer system, even by my people’s standards.” Vreta said, now making direct eye contact with Freyr. “My people can craft software with consciousness indistinguishable from that of living beings, and capabilities far beyond them. And we do not do so lightly. For a civilization advanced enough to create the Cradle, I have no reason to believe they could not do the same. Again I…apologize if my opinion is offensive, but I do not think it would be a popular one on this world. Humanity does not control the Cradle, and does not truly understand it. You have learned to use it, but Outremer’s society has become intertwined with something that is still a mystery at its core. It is entirely possible that the Cradle contains artificial intelligence, or is an artificial intelligence, with goals that do not align with your own.”

Vreta let out a sigh and shrugged his shoulders. “Like I said, I have only guesses for that. As for your last question, I wish I could play back the encounter for you. Unfortunately, I did not have access to my implants in the Cradle. From what I can remember, it first spoke to me in a child’s voice. It said something about wanting to find its toys, but then ‘offered’ to take me to its parents. I tried to talk my way out of that, but soon enough, it changed voices and started talking about me more directly. It said that it did not remember much of what it was, but that it recognized me. It said that it had seen me 'crawling from the ocean to the rocks'. I believe that it has either been driven insane, or it was not speaking about me as an individual. Perhaps both.”

The Cradle

Vreta breathed a quick sigh of relief from Freyr’s answer. He was not willing to eat or use any product that required killing a live animal. Virtually any animal product on Rothia was grown artificially, and fortunately, the Humans did possess the same technology. He could now confidently resume his meal, which he did enthusiastically once the topic shifted to the Cradle. It gave him a moment to make sure his program was ready to make any changes to what the cameras were hearing, if he deemed it necessary. For now, though, he doubted he would need to make any changes. She was asking about his cover story, which he definitely wanted any potential eavesdroppers to hear.

“Not exactly.” Vreta answered after a few moments. “I believe I mentioned back in the Cradle that I work for the Zuraxi’Synkuur corporation. I can’t go into detail about our business deals, I’m afraid, but I can say that we sell…simplified Rothian technology on other worlds, outside Rothian space. I have spearheaded deals with a handful of companies on Outremer, and a part of my responsibilities are to ensure that the companies we deal with are living up to our standards. A condition of our deals is usually that I am permitted to inspect both testing and production facilities of the company in question. On Outremer, testing facilities are usually found within the Cradle, so I do spend a fair amount of time there. But, I would say I still spend more time in the real world, which, especially now, I would say is preferable.”

The Cradle

Vreta chuckled softly for a few seconds as he took a seat on the bench alongside Freyr. While somewhat small, he would not call it uncomfortable. “We do not age as most other species do, that is true. Eternal life, though…well, I do suppose that is the goal, for most of us. The oldest of us come from a time just before we started to leave our homeworld. By your counting of years, I think that would be around…1,100 years? I’m not completely sure of the conversion. Or, well, I should say that 1,100 years is when our medicine became sophisticated enough for us to essentially guarantee survival against disease and disorders. Some individuals are centuries older than that. For me, I am in my sixth century. Back when I was a hatchling, it was just us and two other intelligent species known in the galaxy. Our galactic community has grown quite a lot since then.”

Following Freyr’s lead, Vreta followed the same motions of wrapping his roll and eating it with the sauce. It seemed to be a mix of meat and vegetables, wrapped in a way that made it quite convenient to eat. That, in itself, was not a unique idea to their species, but the ingredients certainly were. Rothia imported foods from nearly every intelligent species in the galaxy, but they tended to favor meat more heavily when they crafted dishes from those ingredients. The roll, and particularly its sauce, tasted quite different from anything he had tried. He did particularly enjoy its sweetness.

“But yes, we do live many lives across the centuries, to keep those lives interesting. I have been everything from a soldier, to a programmer, to a corporate executive, to a failed professional athlete.” Vreta replied before giving another look down at his roll. “Also, just…a question. Do you know if they grow their meat, or raise it from animals here?”

The Cradle

Vreta’s eyes scanned the crowd to search for Freyr. It was something of a difficult task for him to spot her out among all of the other Humans, especially since he did not have an image of her on record as he usually would have for Humans he wanted to remember. His Rothian mind was not designed to pick up on Human facial features, so having images for reference could help him interact more naturally with them in social situations. The rain also presented a problem in that most of the crowd were walking around with coverings over their heads to keep them dry. Rain did not bother Vreta nearly as much as it seemed to affect Humans. His scaly skin was waterproof, so the rain slid off of him easily.

Fortunately, it was far easier for Freyr to pick Vreta out of a crowd, so it did not take long for her to approach him and grab his attention. By that point, his program had embedded itself firmly in various corner’s of the district’s public network. In many ways, it was like a living thing in itself, maneuvering its way through the city’s software unseen and hiding in the shadows of other programs from the automated intrusion detection system. The Cradle itself might have been peer to Rothian technology, but his program was still hundreds of years more advance than anything Human-made that might try to root it out. With the access he now had, Vreta did not yet do anything disruptive. He simply had his program identify any camera or other sensor that could see or hear himself or Freyr so that he could make changes to what they observed if he deemed it necessary.

For the moment, however, Vreta did not require any secrecy. He matched her friendly approach with just as friendly of a greeting. “Hello. It is no trouble to be here. I think this is something we can both benefit from talking about.” He remarked as he started to look around the market, particularly at the stall Freyr pointed out. He did not want to rush straight into business, as some more casual conversation could be useful to obscure what they were discussing. “I shall be honest, I do not know what that is, but I am eager to try it. Coming to places like this, it is one of the things I enjoy about working in foreign space. Stepping into this market is like stepping back in time. I’m sure I could find something like it somewhere in Rothian space, but that would be no more than a novelty. This is just…a part of your city. There are many of my kind that find it dangerous just to leave Rothian worlds, but I do think it worth a little risk to really experience the galaxy. I learned as much as I could about your people’s cultures before I came here, but it is quite different to experience it in person.”

The Cradle

Vreta paused just a moment in consideration of Freyr’s suggestion. His ideal situation would be to hold the meeting in his apartment, as he had already made certain that he could keep anything that happened within its walls away from prying eyes. However, he doubted that would be an option in this case. Still, it was no disaster. With the right applications of the tools at his disposal, he could control recordings of him in public spaces almost as well. The program that ran his neural implants was essentially an AI by Human standards, albeit a specialized one. With his thoughts directing it, he could tailor custom malware to invade Human networks and manipulate them in real-time. His power over them was not limitless, but he was confident in the sophistication of his programs.

“I…can’t say I know what Goi Cuon is, but I’m willing to try it.” Vreta answered, matching her somewhat more positive tone. “I do want to talk about this as well. Maybe together we can make some sense of the insanity that has been this evening. Just give me an address, and I will make my way there as soon as I can.”

---

Vreta had not required much in the way of preparation. For him, the vast majority of what he needed to do his job could be found under his scales. Even if he carried nothing with him, he was, with the notable exception of the Cradle, always prepared. Traversing the city was much slower than back home, but he had been in the city for long enough to have grown accustomed to it.

When he finally did arrive at Boycott Park, there was a moment where Vreta lost focus on the task ahead of him. The food market itself was, from his perspective, a rather unique sight. It was in the center of a fairly large park, wide and open, with plenty of natural flora. It felt separate from the rest of the city, and the market even moreso. It had a myriad of small, privately-owned stalls all packed closely together. It was a place he would describe as vibrant and lively. Even as the sun was beginning to set over the horizon, the crowds did not seem to diminish. Many of the pathways were lit by paper candles hanging on strings crossing over them. The general glow of the city surrounding them likely would have been enough to illuminate the area, in any case, but they did add to the visual appeal.

It was places like this that Vreta enjoyed to visit, and it was one of the advantages of working outside of Rothian territory. By the way the crowds acted, he could tell it was not just a novelty to them. It was…genuine, not a tourist attraction. For a moment, Vreta was tempted to follow his nose to the most interesting of the scents that filled the air, but he could not be shaken from his purpose for long. He had a task ahead of him. He went ahead and planted his program in the city’s public network by hiding it in a simple request for a map of the local area. From there, it could start its work on breaking through security protections. With that situated, he sent a quick message to Freyr to inform her that he had arrived. Somehow, he doubted he would be hard to find in the crowd.

The Cradle

Vreta had been considering getting some rest when he suddenly received the notification for a call, and the caller herself was someone who immediately caught his eye: Freyr Lang. In truth, she was someone he had intended to contact himself, eventually. He had just intended to lay low for a few days, but having that opportunity present itself so quickly was not something he wanted to ignore. She was clearly a scientist who worked closely with the Cradle. By helping her as much as he had, he was already well on his way with ingratiating himself with her, which could prove a boon to his goal of learning more about the Cradle. Still, considering the other factors involved with CraSec and the Outremer government, he would have to play this well.

Vreta had the call routed through his neural implant as an overlay with the call information appeared in the corner of his vision. He patiently allowed Dr. Lang to speak, despite her rather rambling approach to a greeting. Even with his own goals aside, he could genuinely understand why one in her position would be so out-of-sorts. When it was finally his turn to speak, he made sure to keep his tone calm and soft. “Of course. You can call me Vreta. Rothian names are not…quite the same as those of Humans. As for what happened I…just want to start by saying that I am so sorry for what you are going through. I can hardly imagine it. I know it might not have seemed that way back in the Cradle, but you have to understand I was a soldier many years ago. In such dangerous, stressful situations, I know I can seem rather…detached. It is a mental defense mechanism that is trained into us. Now that we are in safety, though, I just want to say that I do feel for you. No being deserves to suffer through such a thing, and I promise I do want to help you.”

With some degree of hesitation in his voice, Vreta continued. He wanted to make sure to convey that this was not his preferred answer, but the situation was forcing it upon him. “But…are you sure this is a conversation you want to have remotely? I heard the Skinners were involved in all of this, yes? From my understanding, they are a criminal group, right? Terrorists? I apologize if this is offensive, but I do find digital security on this world to be…lacking by Rothian standards. For a topic as personal to you as this, I wouldn’t want a group like that to catch wind of it. Who knows how they might use it against you, and…you never know who might be listening in on a call like this?” Vreta warned, his words carrying a double meaning. His reason for not wanting to speak about it over a call was genuine, though it was not the Skinners he was concerned about. Regardless of whether or not she picked up on the subtext, though, his stated reason was a valid concern.

“Would you rather talk in person?” Vreta asked.

The Cradle

With his message sent, Vreta could finally start trying to put the day’s events behind him. Through experience and a cool head, he had gotten out alive, and if he could help it, he was going to try to avoid entering the hellscape that was the Cradle again. What he had witnessed only cemented his views on Humanity’s exploitation of the Cradle. It was technology they did not understand, and they were foolish for intertwining it so deeply into their society. They were so desperate to try and push their technology forward that Outremer was now dependant on what could essentially be a time bomb. The creatures could not have come from anywhere but the Cradle itself, and no one, not even the Rothians, knew the true purpose of the Cradle.

Now that he was out of danger, Vreta did have the opportunity to think in more depth about what he had witnessed. He wished he could have had access to his implants through it all, for a multitude of reasons, but mostly for the purpose of recordkeeping. With his implants, he could have recorded everything he saw so he could go back and view it again to catch anything he missed. Regardless, his neural implants now, at the very least, could save his memories as they were so they did not degrade any farther.

Once again, Vreta found himself laying back on his couch, his feet hanging partially off the side. Normally after such physical exertion, he would have worked up an appetite, but he supposed none of that exercise was truly real. So, instead of a second dinner, he thought back on the details of his experience. Of particular interest to Vreta was his brief conversation with one of the creatures. The way he saw it, there were two likely possibilities for what they were: Human minds that had been corrupted in some way, or independent intelligences that came from within the Cradle. Or some combination of the two. The most striking evidence of the former was that the creature had used a face that the Human, Freyr, had recognized. Vreta distinctly remembered the creature claiming “They are mine” when she asked about her husband. However, Vreta also remembered a part of the conversation that would have been strange for just corrupted Humans.

When it was just him and the creature, it spoke of recognizing Vreta. It would not make much sense for it to be speaking of him as an individual, since he hardly knew any Humans on this planet personally, so all that was left was for it to be speaking of him as a Rothian. The phrasing was strange, too. It spoke of him “crawling from the ocean to the rocks”, as he remembered it. The Cradle was a truly ancient supercomputer, and those words made it sound like its creators had watched the Rothian species itself evolve. Though, he did not want to make such rash assumptions just yet. There were other ways he could interpret the encounter. Perhaps this was some combination of an independent intelligence within the Cradle, and corrupted Human minds? Perhaps it had gone insane as a result?

The Cradle

There might have been more that Vreta wanted to say, particularly to Freyr. Whether he liked it or not, it was still his task to learn more about the cradle, and he saw the possibility that a grateful scientist that worked on the cradle could help him towards that end. However, at this point, he was not going to do anything that might slow down his return to the real world for even a second. Once he was allowed to do so, he gave a polite farewell to the both of them and finally logged out of the Cradle.

---

Returning safely to his hotel room was now one of the most relieving feelings Vreta had experienced in his life. There was no one that Vreta encountered on the way back to his room, so whoever that man represented might not have had anyone in the building just yet. It was hard to say, truthfully; it would all depend on how the Human decided to approach watching him. Though, he had little doubt that he would be watched in some way. Frankly, Vreta might have felt offended if he was not.

It was tempting for Vreta to want to relax after all the stress he had been through. He had survived more near-death experiences in the last hour than he had in the past two centuries combined, and he felt rather horrible in general. He was, quite thankfully, back in his actual body, complete with all of his enhancements. His neural implants were already at work correcting his neurochemical balance to reduce the chances of long-term psychological damage. However, he was still feeling phantom pains, particularly in his arm, for injuries that did not exist. That, to his understanding, might last a day or two.

Before Vreta could even think about resting his mind, he first had to give his report to his superiors. His mission was not over, he knew, but he had finally learned something worth reporting. As he headed into his bedroom to get his suitcase once again, he started writing up his report, though not through anything as inefficient as an external device. Through his neural implants, he could create a data file, write and edit it purely through thought, and have it strongly encrypted, even by Rothian standards. For now, he just kept his report mostly to a factual recounting of events, without too much speculation or opinion on his part. He would have time to consider the implication of the night’s events later. For now, he activated the data pad he had used to interact with his sniffer programs and uploaded his report to it. The Zuraxi’Synkuur corporation had in its headquarters Rothian superluminal communications hardware, which worked on a level of sophistication beyond Human understanding. His device could bypass the usual adapter layer that Human networks used to interact with Rothian software, allowing him to send his message discretely. It masked the true message under a more mundane one sent through usual channels, so while an intercepted message was unlikely to begin with, he still had a good deal of plausible deniability. The encrypted message could easily be seen as junk data stemming from the fundamental differences in their computer architecture. Even so, he wiped the device once more to erase any chance of leaving a trace.