6 Billion A.D./The Order Attacks

Tentative Synopsis: War looms as the Order sets out to unleash havoc on the galaxy.

Negotiations

"Drink this," he said.

Gulp.

"Now you're immortal."

"What?!"

"Just kidding. We have to process it into an oxide first. But it tastes bitter, doesn't it?"

-

The parties sat down on opposite sides of the table. On each side, behind reflective visors, serious faces looked out at the other side. They stared each other down. Each side had come ready to negotiate. Both sides feared the other.

-

Seeing so much space, she grimaced; he smiled.

-

In one of the seedier parts of the system, some of the lesser populations met.

-

Long lines of identical solutions poured out. Equal amounts dispensed into each tube. The workers examined the data sheets. Looked right.

-

"You have one of our agents," said Morp, a representative sitting near the center of the chemists.

"That's what you alleged before," replied Vespa.

Morp choked back a harsh laugh. "We have traces. We want her back."

Vespa ignored the comment. "Your idiotic application of strengthening compounds has leaked throughout the inner star system. We want this cleaned up."

Data swept through the room. As the representatives from both sides considered the deal, sub-clauses were added and removed. Instantly the updated deal propagated to the different representatives' visors.

-

"It's a violation! We can have you arrested."

"You know as well as we do that half the judges use it as well. You'll get laughed out of court."

-

Vespa leaned over to Rigel.

-

Rigel looked in the mirror. Is this what he wanted?

-

"Ah, so the MONDians were right!" he exclaimed.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Just an old joke."

-

The laws had become confused when society spread out into space. Now, several different legal systems applied to different populations -- or at least thought they did. Most people had no idea what laws if any applied to them. The Thraxans even parlayed this into a profitable enterprise, producing custom laws for anyone who had a dispute.

-

Both sides agreed to the deal. Visors instantly reflected the agreement, which was also sent back to the political and military headquarters of each side. Morp shook Vespa's hand. She pulled it back in pain.

"If she is not returned within twenty orbits, we will start executing prisoners."

Vespa turned around, walking away fast. The rest of her side swept alongside her.

-

Morp walked briskly through the rows of identical lab benches. He seemed to have a different air here than at the negotiating table.

"Doctor Morp, the solution has precipitated. It confirms your theory," said a young chemical technician to Morp. Nodding curtly, he kept on walking.

-

Vespa paced nervously. "If they continue this madness, our entire star system will soon be spoilt."

"Like the star they came from," said Tuner.

"We have to find a way to stop them."

"But how?"

Return of the Order

Rigel felt comfortable in the Order uniform. Somehow, it seemed to fit him.

-

No one was entirely sure, even within the Order, how the Order managed to survive so many collapses.

-

"We think they're trying to arrange another large collapse."

"Why would the Order do that?"

"⁵H is only known to be produced in the explosions following such a collapse. Their society depends on it."

-

Suffering from the denial of his romantic interest, and his unfixable infection, Rigel wept.

-

"I can't take this any longer," he said. "I have to do something. Anything. Maybe the Order is onto something. Maybe they're our only hope."

-

"You look fine in that uniform," Morp said to Rigel.

"Thank you, sir," Rigel replied, saluting.

-

Morp strode through the ranks. Rigel, along with thousands of other troops, stood firmly, weapons at the ready. The inspection went without a hitch.

-

"As new enlistees in the Order of Defenders of the Core, your mission is a noble one," boomed Morp at the troops. "You will attack weakness wherever you find it. You will destroy overconfidence. You will harrass the enemy. You will win!"

On the last line, the troops broke out in wild cheers.

-

Rigel's unit was sent to the front. Together with other Order troops, Rigel packed his weapon, his meals, and his other equipment. They boarded the troop transporter. As the lights dimmed, a quiet descended on the troops.

-

"Are you scared?"

"Huh?" said Rigel.

Another Order soldier was looking at him, with fearful eyes.

"I didn't really want to be here," said the scared soldier. "I thought I would enlist for the pay, but not be sent to the front."

"Oh," said Rigel dejectedly.

"You don't seem scared," said the soldier.

Rigel looked off to the distance. He thought of Sophiy. He thought of his infection.

"Why don't you say anything?" asked the other soldier.

"Look," said Rigel. "I'm scared, We're all scared. It's normal. We're on the front line." He hoped the other soldier would leave him alone.

"Do you-- Do you have anyone back home?" asked the soldier.

Rigel blanched. "I-- Look, just leave me alone."

-

"Another star went out."

"How did another star go out?!" yelled the commanding officer. "Stars don't just disappear."

"We're looking into it."

"Looking into it? A star randomly disappears, and you're looking into it?!"

"We think the Order is behind this."

"Of course the Order is behind this!"

"We have traces of their ships in the region just before the disappearance."

"Well, go and track down those ships!"

-

At a meeting of the League's top officers, the main topic was the ongoing series of star disappearances. Also, there was concern mentioned about the increasing number of troop defections.

"Why are our soldiers deserting us?" asked a general. "Aren't we providing them better housing, better pay, a better mission?"

Another general chimed in. "And now of all times! When the universe is going haywire. Why, the Order is probably laughing at us! Shouldn't our soldiers be less likely now to desert?"

A political representative of the League spoke up. "These are important issues. We need your skills to resolve them. We still have a strong League, but it's at risk. Now more than ever, we need to defend our interests, if we are to survive."

-

The League developed new armaments that were more modern, and better able to target the Order combat ships that had become increasingly common. The League restructured its military, releasing numerous peripheral units from duty, and upgrading the remaining units. The entire League was overhauled, becoming almost unrecognizable. It was much smaller than the previous iteration of the League. A lean fighting machine, the military and political leadership hoped.

-

In occasional skirmishes along the front line, Order ships continued to outflank the League. Losses were mounting, in spite of the efforts of the League. Civilians became concerned, as media portrayed a growing threat of collapse.

-

"In other news, three more League battalions were defeated," said the newscaster. "This marks the worst toll for the League since the commencement of hostilities. An Order spokesperson declared the victory another step towards collapse. Observers have expressed concern."

-

Rigel's infection worsened. While he had become biologically immortal, able to regenerate his cells indefinitely, those same cells remained subject to diseases, mechanical attacks, and other susceptibilities. Rigel's body weakened under the strain of the virus. Beneath his uniform, his skin developed lesions. Rigel hoped they wouldn't spread to his face, where they would be seen by other soldiers, and he would be ejected to a certain death in space.

-

"The pandemic is spreading deeper into Order regions."

"At least there's some good news," he responded darkly.

"They probably want that, judging by their collapsist policies."

"They're not totally insane."

"I'm not so sure."

-

Rigel piloted the ship at his former allies. After his betrayal, he still retained fighting skills.

"You're flying well, soldier," said his commanding officer.

Rigel kept steering, with grim determination.

-

Stars kept disappearing. One after another, in growing sweeps of space. Entire parsecs went dark.

-

Now Vespa had contracted the virus. Panic set in. "What am I to do?!" she asked herself, rummaging quickly through the data banks.

She pulled up the info on the virus. Still no cure. Still no substantial understanding. A mysterious virus that had somehow swept through space, destroying entire civilizations. And now she was infected.

-

The Order racked up more sizable wins against the bolstered League. Panic went rampant, even among League generals. Was this the end of the League?

-

While off-duty, when he was supposed to be sleeping in his bunk, Rigel pulled up his communicator on his visor. Unable to stop thinking of her, he got ready to initiate a session.

-

Sophiy sat up in her bed.

-

Morp laughed. A loud, violent laugh. The small battle being waged among the images in his visor represented the larger battle being waged out in space. Much havoc was being wrought. And his side was winning.

-

Finally, a crack in the case.

"The virus seems to respond to this," she said, half-hopefully.

-

The next night, Rigel wept in his bunk.

-

Another soldier, seeing him, said: "Don't let it get to you. When you let your fear win, you let the enemy win."

Rigel, who already had two death sentences, one viral and one emotional, did not fear the war. He ignored the other soldier.

-

The Order triumphantly announced another round of victories. "We are now wiping out the remaining traces of the enemy," said a spokesperson. "Soon we will restore the dominance of our rightful leadership. There is no room for traitors."

-

Rigel's infection spread yet further. One of his lesions had just begun showing on his neck, outside of where his uniform covered. He took to wearing his uniform uncomfortably high, arousing bemusement if not suspicion among his fellow soldiers.

-

"What's with that style? I don't think it's regulation," said one soldier.

-

As the strains on the different populated planets tore them apart, the strains on Rigel's body and mind tore him apart.

-

The pandemic spread yet further. Giant tracking screens in the epidemiology center showed the virus having covered 95% of the observed region. The death toll statistics, constantly updating, grew into the quadrillions.

-

"This is the worst pandemic we've ever seen," said the epidemiology center representative.

"Is there any end in sight?" asked the newscaster.

"Unfortunately, no. We are still far from the worst of it."

The newscaster looked grim.

-

Rigel thought back to his earlier days, tending the plants on a League ship. They had not found any cure for the disease. He now realized that they wouldn't have found any cure, couldn't have.

-

Horgrodus paxiforum: Grows wild on the shores of planets in the Horse Nebula. Induces a sense of calm. Often used to comfort the dying.

The Botanist's Book of Craft and Lore

Looming Disaster

"Those fools don't even understand that the collapse is happening anyways. We're just speeding it along."

"Why speed it along?"

"It suits our purposes."

"How does it suit your purposes?" the journalist asked.

"The collapse benefits us. Unlike those fools, we understand that it's happening anyways. So we may as well benefit from it. We have long since designed our society around the upcoming collapse. Long since. It's part of a cycle. It would be foolish for anyone not to expect it."

-

Dr. Morp paced in front of the assembled audience. "Our theories show that these cycles of growth and collapse occur regularly. We extrapolate that out, and pace our society around it."

The group of students, visiting scientists, and military staff listened attentively.

"We foresee a major collapse occurring within the next millennium. By certain actions, we think that we can move it forward to within the next five hundred or so years," Morp continued.

The holographic visualization in front of the crowd zoomed in on a few particles. "These are hydrogen, in the horse nebula. As you can see, most are ordinary hydrogen -- one proton, no neutrons."

The visualization zoomed in further. "If we look more closely, however we can see that a small number do have neutrons. These are called deuterium, or ²H. Quite rare, only produced during collapses."

The visualization continued to zoom in yet further. At each level of detail, Morp pointed out the small number of increasingly heavy hydrogen variants: ³H, ⁴H, ⁵H.

"As you can see," he said. "There are so few ⁵H as to make them practically useless. Except that they happen to fuse so easily that am imbecile could fuel a civilization for ten thousand years."

The crowd struggled to process the information.

"I repeat: these hydrogens are only produced during collapses. Therefore it is in our interests, in the interests of civilization, for us to hurry up this collapse. So that we can generate more ⁵H, and feed our communities for the next eon. Anything else would harm the long-term interests of sentient species. Only a short-sighted fool would oppose the collapse."

-

The League leadership met again. In desperation, they leafed through thousands of screens on their visors, searching for any hint. What was the Order up to? Was there any way to stop their utter destruction of the League? Technical information, legal information, any information, it was all fair game.

-

Rigel listened attentively. He had stored a copy of Morp's presentation, and was now rewatching it on his visor, for the tenth time.

Since signing up for the Order, Rigel had progressed. From his early period of supervision, as a recruit from the opposing side, Rigel had quickly proven his worth to the Order. Despite his frequent bouts of melancholy, Rigel had a determination that many soldiers lacked, even among the longest-serving Order members.

For Rigel, it was personal. He hadn't signed up because of any longstanding commitment to Order philosophy. Rather, he viewed it as a last-ditch attempt to save himself.

-

"How are you feeling today?" Morp asked. He had taken a personal interest in Rigel since the beginning. Not quite a liking, as Morp found Rigel sentimental and irrational. However, it didn't take much effort or acumen to see Rigel's uncommon dedication, and capacity.

Rigel squirmed slightly, involuntarily. Morp had long made him feel uncomfortable. "I'm fine, Doctor."

"I understand you've been watching my Cycle speech. I'm flattered. It was one of my finer presentations, you know."

"You make some interesting arguments," said Rigel. "But isn't there some way that we can contribute to society without the collapse? It seems so needlessly -- destructive."

Morp chuckled. "Many of my first-year students ask the same thing. You would make quite a student, if you weren't already a soldier, you know. But the answer is no, there isn't any easier way. Either you can save your civilization, or you can prevent the collapse. Oh yes, I know all about the propaganda put out by that old, nasty affiliation of yours. They're on the run, now, which should tell you something about how valid their arguments are."

"Might doesn't always make right," said Rigel, surprisingly frankly.

Morp looked at him suspiciously. "You're not turning back to that, now are you? You should know that the punishment for treason remains execution."

"That's not what I was saying," said Rigel, but Morp was already standing up and leaving.

-

As the years went by, the expected collapse approaching, the League deteriorated further. Many of their adherents departed. Their infrastructure, despite expensive attempts to protect it, rotted. Their ability to fight at all soon became questionable.

The remaining members of the League frantically retreated. In small regions, traditional strongholds, they had secret meetings. Each meeting now occasioned doubts about whether the Order had spies present. On some occasions, accusations of being an Order spy even broke out into the open.

-

The panel of Order scientist-politicians, military personnel, and others addressed the media. "This is an unprecedented development," said one speaker. "We are saying that this reaction can be multiplied effortlessly. It leads to some powerful possibilities."

"No," said another speaker in response to a question. "This isn't a perpetual motion machine. It's a reaction that produces far more energy than it requires to start, but using available resources from the environment."

"We're not at liberty to discuss the technical details of the reaction," said another scientist-politician. "There are security issues involved. But we're confident in the science."

-

Sophiy cringed.

-

Among the other captives, Vespa stood still, listening to the verdict. Of course, she already knew the verdict.

"All prisoners present are found guilty of all charges. The penalty of execution shall be rendered within the next local day. Which, here, is twenty standard hours." The judge stamped the gavel, and signaled for the next batch of prisoners to be brought in.

-

Harvey, the psychobotanist hired to replace Rigel, had been sent to the ship from a safer region. While he didn't have quite the emotional flair of Rigel, he also produced a more limited range of research than Rigel. Often, Harvey simply tested some of Rigel's theories, whether tested or untested. This added some important knowledge, but failed to make significant headway towards a cure for the pandemic.

-

Entire societies, spanning multiple planets and in some cases even star systems, got wiped out by the pandemic. It showed no signs of slowing down. To the contrary, it seemed to many observers to be speeding up.

-

Another night, while he was supposed to be asleep, Rigel lay awake. He asked himself if he should sneak into the Order data center, see if they had any plant data that the League had never had. But the mere thought repulsed him, and listening to his better judgment, he turned to other thoughts. Morose thoughts, about his lot.

-

Sophiy had the occasional thought of Rigel, too.

-

The League ship dodged a blast from the Order fleet. Increasingly, this scene had played out. The League ship pushed its thrusters to the maximum, bolting for safety.

-

As medics evacuated more victims, cordoned off more regions as uninhabitable, the virus continued to beguile them.

-

As soon as one medicine showed any signs of effectiveness, even the slightest hint, the virus morphed into a different shape that was immune to the medicine. Sometimes the virus even seemed to morph before the medicine showed any effect.

-

"It's ridiculous!" thought Rigel, looking through the Order virus data on his visor.

-

"Here they have dozens of variations, a whole typology, as though these are separate virii. Well, who am I to say? Maybe they are. But what does that actually say about this pandemic? It doesn't lead to any remedy."

-

"So," said Morp, sitting down next to Rigel. "You've taken an interest in our data, have you? Need I remind you of our past conversation on this topic?"

-

Rigel had become old. That is, he had reached into his hundreds, well into his thousands, of local years. Still, because of his biological immortality, he didn't look a day older than when he had first drunk of that potion.

-

Inside Rigel's bodies, cells continued to divide, without dying of old age as would happen in a mortal. Rigel still bore scars from thousands of years before, as his cells could only continue reproducing themselves normally, not conferring any protection against injuries other than old age.

-

Rigel had taken a liking to his biological immortality. Of course, it was illegal back in the League. Here in the Order, however, it didn't carry the same social limitations.

-

Rigel often spent time with other immortals.

-

The Order issued a command to attack the League's traditional stronghold.

Plant Fascinations

Rigel sat in his prison cell. His body ached. Reaching with his injured hand, he scraped some mold off a dark corner. Rigel knew from his botanical work that the mold was safe enough, despite its reputation. However, a prisoner in a nearby cell who took notice looked repulsed.

Rigel swallowed the mold. He didn't like the taste, which was quite repugnant (perhaps explaining the mold's reputation). However, it made him feel far less pain. As a side effect, it also switched the way he perceived the colors green and purple. In what appeared to Rigel as a bizarre blue uniform, the prison warden patrolled the cells.

-

Rigel ground a handful of Parnax rubirus seeds, mixed in some water to form a paste, and rubbed some of the paste inside his nose. At first he sneezed. Afterwards, he felt a surge of excitement. With the enthusiasm of a child, Rigel set to working out his plans.

-

Vespa plugged her visor adaptor into the ship. It wasn't technically necessary, but it reduced the latency, improving performance. Suddenly she mind-melded with the ship, feeling its motions as her own.

-

Rigel had a pounding headache. The bruises, the noises of the other prisoners, the incessant patrolling of the guards. While the mold calmed his bodily pain, it did little to stop his headache. Remembering an old dictum from gardening school, Rigel started listing the different species he knew alphabetically. Each plant brought back memories, distracting from his pain. This allowed him the peace of mind to continue planning his escape.

-

In a way, thought Rigel, dying of this disease wouldn't be so bad. At least it would let him stop thinking about her. For years now, Rigel had obsessed over Sophiy. And yet, for all his mental anguish, she had not even responded to his calls. What was worse, to live without her, or to die without her?

-

The Order continued to grow stronger. Many members of the Order, even at the top, had no understanding of how their strength came to be. Ignorant of their history, or of their lack of history, these Order soldiers won battles without any sense of the sacrifice that previous Orders had made, before previous collapses.

-

The Order shifted its structure. From its past as a rebellious group of secret agents, it now stood as the leading military force. The Order had become firmly fixed among the stars.

-

"Crisis Spreads" flashed through billions of visors, as people watched the news. Ships loaded up with passengers fighting for a chance to leave the ever-growing at-risk zone. Many large regions had already been cordoned off.

-

Rigel searched desperately through the Order data banks. They read much more matter-of-factly than the League data he knew. Virus spreads through air, vacuum, and synthetic solids. Irrelevant. 30,000 units lethal dose. He already knew that. Another variant of this virus has been suspected but not found. No.

-

"Hey, that was some nifty stuff you threw out there." A more senior Order soldier was talking to Rigel. Or, rather, at Rigel, who wasn't paying attention.

"Huh?" asked Rigel.

"You helped us take out a half dozen more League ships than we would have. How'd you do that?"

"Oh," said Rigel, distractedly. "When I'm in the heat of battle, I can really focus. Sorry, I'm exhausted now."

"Don't be sorry," said the other soldier. "That was quite a show!"

Rigel didn't let on that he had taken a few more hits of Ylar than he should have.

-

As soon as one battle ended, another one seemed to pick up. Despite their dwindling numbers, the League continued to put up a fight. Even aside from this, semi-random attacks occurred occasionally.

"You know, sometimes even winning a battle doesn't even leave me feeling satisfied," said Morp to a lieutenant.

"At least it doesn't leave you over-satisfied," responded the lieutenant.

"I'll give you that."

-

Another star went out. All the planets in its orbit disappeared from radar screens. Gone.

The growing crisis evoked many questions and answers, the latter often preposterous. Many people knew, even on the backwaters planets, that the Order was likely to blame for the problems. Yet, without evidence, and more importantly, without any way to enforce justice, they felt powerless.

-

The ship on which Rigel had once traveled, deep in pandemic space, continued on its journey. As it passed through the gravitational field of Beta gortori, a medium-sized star, the viewports onboard suddenly went dark.

"What happened?!" yelled Vespa, who had been looking out a viewport, thinking of an evening she had once spent with Rigel.

Her supervisor came running into the data center. "Everyone in your seats! We have a class five situation!"

Vespa and the other staff rushed to their seats. Screens and visors flooded with information. League warnings, stored onboard the ship, were showing repeatedly, set off by the situation. The lights from the ship suddenly seemed ridiculously bright, shining far out into space and even lighting up asteroids flying by. The star itself seemed to have disappeared, as suddenly as a candle going out.

-

"No, we don't know how to explain this," said an important League representative at a secret meeting. The other leaders present looked at her sullenly.

"Thousands of stars have mysteriously disappeared, without any explanation?" asked one representative, skeptically.

"There are some explanations," she answered. "They're just not very convincing."

"Give me an example."

"Well, one theory has it that there's some property of the stars that causes them to go out. Like a person -- a mortal -- dying of old age."

"That doesn't make any sense. Why wouldn't more stars have gone out before, instead of them all going out now, at once?"

"I told you," she said. "They're not very convincing explanations."

-

Unbeknownst to Morp, a chemist, some of the plants had been watching him. A fact known only to botanists, and not even all of them, was that many plants had developed senses very much like those of animals. Moreover, some plants could communicate with each other through the soil, and some even through air, much as people communicated effortlessly through their visors and headsets.

-

As Morp placed his identification badge on the desk, the plants watched carefully. Noting the data encoded on its surface, the plants relayed this information out of the room. Soon, without any of the crew members knowing quite how, Morp's personal data such as previous ranks had become public knowledge.

-

"We have to lock down the plant chambers!" Vespa's supervisor screamed.

"Why?!" asked a data center staff member.

"It's -- just part of the procedures!" yelled the supervisor, rushing the crew from the data center into the one-g plant chamber. There, a robust assortment of plants filled the room with bright colors, aromas, and mind-altering substances. Even in Rigel's absence, the chamber retained a certain sense of his style.

-

Vespa rushed through the plant chamber. As she swept by the different plants, some evoked memories of her times together with Rigel. By now she had forgotten many of the plant functions, and most of their names. Yet, their looks, their smells, still resonated.

-

In the ships zoo, animals darted about in confusion. Of course, they often darted about in confusion anyways, being animals locked up in a space ship. However, now their confusion was doubled, as the zoo staff had come rushing through the room, locking up cages, collecting scattered animals, and often accidentally scattering other animals.

-

The ship altered its course. Avoiding a wide berth where the star had been -- and where its remnants may still have been, for all they knew -- the crew steered deeper into pandemic territory. Now a sense of baffled fear built on top of the existing concern about the virus, and the growing worries over the Order's domination.

-

On Rigel's thousandth birthday, his friends threw him another large party.

-

"Do you want to be immortal?" Rigel asked Vespa. "Really, deeply want, in your heart?"

Vespa paled.

"I… I think so," she said nervously.

-

Vespa looked herself over in the self-view on her visor. She approved.

-

"They're burning through quintium at an incredible rate," he said.

"We think that's their plan. Not sure if they're insane, or if there's something they know that we don't."

"Can we stop them? Or at least slow them down?"

"Not as far as we know."

-

Rigel switched the Order data overlay off in his visor. Instead, he looked only at his stored map of the different plant chemicals. Of the library of trillions of chemicals, they showed neatly arranged into groups. Chemicals hovered translucently over each other. Effortlessly, Rigel flipped through different chemicals, instantly matching each against a reference genome.

Still no cure, he thought to himself sullenly. At least it's beautiful to see these molecules.

-

Rigel had developed a sense, a feel, for where the plants were in a room. He could even say which species, sometimes even which exact specimens, were in the room, to within a few centimeters.

-

A trace of DNA from the Tareforus vigumens plant slipped into the air. As Rigel breathed in, he inhaled that DNA snippet. Without his noticing, the codons merged into his own genome. Rigel had become a few nucleotides more botanical.

-

Rigel sighed. He recognized the plant from his early years working on the ship.

-

"It works like many plants, and certain small animals. Their cells aren't preprogrammed to kill themselves, as are ours. Instead, they just go on making more copies of their cells as needed. So in a way they're immortal. But they can still get sick and die, or get injured and die."

"So, they're immortal against old age only?"

"Yes, it's called biological immortality."

-

Rigel looked at the self-view in his visor. Nervous. Screwing up his courage, he threw himself out of the airlock. If it has to be, then it's going to be my way, he thought to himself.

-

"Here," Rigel said, handing Vespa a data chip.

"Thank you," she said, knowing already what was on it.

Utter Destruction

There was destruction everywhere. Hundreds of ships burning.

... The screen started to (glitch). Sophiy are you okay? Rigel I need you to deliver a message to (...). Promise me. Yes, yes, I promise. It’s encoded in this transmission. They’re coming for me. I don’t have much time. Loud noises and fire consumed Sophiy’s screen. Rigel I’m so sorry for everything I put you through. “No, it’s fine, every moment with you has been wonderful, even the thoughts of you. Sophiy started to cry, Rigel, know that I do love you. I lov... the screen went black. Sophiy! Sophiy!

Rigel felt a certain satisfaction. Despite the darkness of the situation, there was a light inside. He now had a feeling that in some sense he had wanted since long ago. Since Sophiy had ditched him. Now at least he felt that there was some kind of reason. Some kind of sense, or logic. Something.

-

Engines sat in wrecks. The fuel was the main source for the fire, rather than the ordnance that had destroyed the ships. Often a small laser would travel through huge lengths of space, sparking an engine fire to take down an entire ship. An entire fleet, brought down, humbled.

-

The League had launched a surprise attack against a unit of the Order. After careful planning, the elite team had left League bases, surreptitiously entering a corner of Order space. From there, they bolted at the Order unit, attacked, then returned unseen to their base.

-

The League's ships had a peculiar look. Seeming non-aerodynamic, they looked like they could hardly take off. However, careful engineering had produced a design that did indeed fly, and quite fast. The controls were again counterintuitive. Yet, once a pilot had learned the controls, these ships were often faster to fly than the competition.

-

"Congratulations," said the officer on debriefing. "You've landed a blow against the enemy. You will each receive hefty bonuses, and you're in line for promotions."

-

The star burned brightly. Around it, the League had flourished. From its small start, the League had grown into a competent and capable force.

-

Soldiers trained day and night. Engineers built newer, larger technologies. From their ships to their bases, the League became formidable.

-

Within the League, there was an even more secret group. This group, which went without a name but was occasionally rumored to exist as either the "Mutongo" or the "Graggo" (no one knew the etymologies) controlled the heart of the League. They made the big decisions, which unfurled to the remainder of the League, and from there out into space.

-

Thousands of containers sat on the transport ship. At the press of a button, they began automatically conveying themselves off the ship. Through a series of tunnels, the containers pushed themselves deep into the Order base.

-

"They have arrived," said a lieutenant.

"Have a unit sent to unpack them," said Morp.

-

Surrounded by armed guards, the workers unpacked the containers. Out came thousands of cases of chemical equipment, and chemicals. The products were loaded onto smaller autoconveyors, which distributed the goods throughout the Order base.

-

"What's this one?" asked a young chemical technician.

"Smell it," said a more senior supervisor.

The younger technician warily inhaled it, following procedure but seeming uncertain whether it was safe.

"Oh! It's acidic."

"Right, it's acidic and translucent blue. You've seen the radioactive signs on the case. So what must it be?"

"I get it! It's a solution of thorium in hyperheavy water."

"Good job."

-

Vespa sat in her bunk, softening her skin. It was a common grooming activity, even after so long.

She glanced through some maps on her visor, which she had not yet taken off. Beautiful maps followed her thoughts, showing the way through the regions of space where she commanded.

What was she looking for? Even Vespa probably couldn't have said, at that moment. Yet, she continued to return to certain areas within Order space.

-

Sophiy consulted her visor. She still had plenty of time.

-

In his quarters, Rigel still thought of her.

-

The ship soared through the sky. Within, computers in the data center calculated away, sorting through myriad possible cures. Outside, collector equipment sampled the ambient space dust, hoping to find any trace of relevant information.

-

Another news relay arrived from back at League bases. Crew members watched attentively on their visors. A new legislature had been appointed. Boring. The annual sports finals had been announced. Some crew looked at the participants. And in science and technology, still no cure had been found, for the disease which had claimed another million victims.

-

Rigel took off his visor. "There has to be some development!" he said, half-angrily and half-sadly.

-

Vespa added thirty more processors to her simulation, effortlessly. This allowed the virus colony to spread into larger formations. She ran a statistical analysis, to see if any different shapes emerged. Some had. She zoomed in on those. However, they looked to her like they differed only in outward arrangement, not functionally.

-

Vespa's supervisor arrived. "How's your investigation coming?"

She looked at him blankly. All that staring into her visor had adjusted her focus. "It's, uh, coming along."

"Any candidate?"

"Nope, not yet."

-

Even though Rigel's body and head ached tremendously, and he could hardly see, he kept on going. Just fight through this, he told himself. With effort, he managed to stand up. His body hurt where the guards had hit him. Still, Rigel felt enough strength to push himself forward. Thinking of Sophiy, he lunged forth.

-

"The Order has wiped out our enemies from this region of space. We hereby declare total victory!"

-

In a small corner of a small asteroid, a few remaining soldiers, once leaders at the secret of the core, wept, despondent.

-

Vespa had an idea. Suddenly, she felt a spark of hope.

-

Rigel, half-blind, weak, confused, felt somehow fine.

Plant Growths

Many of the animals had adapted specifically to a zero-g environment. Some had balloon-shaped appendages, which the animals used to control their hovering. Large, webbed feet enabled paddling through volumes, and climbing on walls/floors.

-

The animals often had sensory organs on all sides, enabling them to flip through three dimensions easily.

-

Vespa liked to float through the chamber, gliding by the animals. Most of the animals avoided her contact, but a few were curious and "swam" up to her.

-

In the zero-g plant chamber, dense tangles of plants formed clumps. Rigel "swam" through the chamber, occasionally grabbing hold of a tangle or a vine to propel himself along. Insects crawled and floated along the plants, too, fertilizing as they went.

-

"We have several species in the ten-g chamber that produce important biochemicals," Rigel said. "Many of these are adaptations of the plants to their difficult environment. Hydraulic fluid for plants."

"And what sorts of uses do these chemicals have?" she asked.

"Well, let's see. That one over there," said Rigel, pointing to a thick plant full of fleshy appendages. "It produces a dense liquid, heavier than ship oil, which can clean out your entire circulatory system. Or it can kill you, if you take too much."

"Oh," she said, recoiling.

-

"Taste this," he said, handing her a fruit he pulled off a tree. She put the fruit in her mouth.

"Oh, my!" she let out in delight.

"Yes, that's one of my favorites. It's a native plant. Or as native as they get. These plants didn't exist before people started breeding them in space."

"It tastes better than anything I've eaten before!"

"It has a complex mix of flavors. It doesn't have to fight so hard against gravity, so the plant can invest far more of its energy in sexual signaling and predator interaction. That's what these flavors are for, getting predators like us to eat its fruit and spread its seed. Also, it's so sweet for energy storage for its propagation."

-

"What do you use it for?"

"It's a euphoriant. Also, I grow some of my own, for personal use."

-

"Well," she said. "This has been quite a date."

Rigel blinked. He hadn't even realized that she had been thinking of it as a date.

"Thank you for showing me some of your plants," she added. "It's way more interesting than I thought before."

"What, you thought plants were boring?" he asked.

"Oh, no, I didn't mean that--"

"Just kidding."

-

Back in the data center, Vespa looked up several species of plants. While she had known that the ship had a large data set onboard relating to plants, she hadn't bothered to look at it until now. But with her newfound fascination, Vespa started learning as much as she could.

-

Rigel went back to his work. Thoughts of Vespa drifted through his mind. Happy thoughts, for the most part. However, despite their getting along together, and their obvious sexual chemistry, he felt something lacking. Somehow, his heart still belonged to Sophiy.

-

Vespa spoke into her headset's mic. "Ever since we met, I've had this feeling for him. It's like we were made for each other. He's somewhat silly, with his plants, but I love him more for it. Now I'm starting to think of us as 'Vigel.'" She continued recording her video diary, saving the memories for later recollection.

-

The ship underwent regular maintenance. Every ten hours, an automatic disinfectant sterilized the cabins. The sensitive biolabs were sterilized even more often, once every hour. This interrupted research, slowing it down, but was a necessary precaution in such a dangerous region.

-

"Do you ever get sick?" Rigel asked.

"Like, a virus?" said Vespa, on one of their dates.

"No, like, sick of it. Sick of being on this ship. Sick of being in this infected region. Sick of work."

"Oh, no. I mean, I guess I sometimes do. But then I relax for a while, or look up stuff on the data banks, to take my mind off it. Why, are you feeling sick of it?"

"Not now," he said. "But sometimes I feel like I'm cracking up. I want a cure as much as anyone does. But it can get so crowded in here. It's such a small space."

"Don't you have any plants for that?"

He laughed. "Well, I guess there's Parax vogspilla, or Aratopus tyllius. Those are antinegativants. I'm not sure that anyone's ever used them for space cabin fever before, but I guess I can try."

-

In the days, weeks, and months following Rigel's ingestion of the Guirnus toxifollus, his body underwent various changes. At first, his body weakened. Then, his organs including his skin were covered by a layer of transitional cells. In this layer, the cells of his previous form gradually died off, while underneath a new generation of cells were being produced. Unlike the older cells, these newer cells lacked the death timers that programmed cell suicide. As such, Rigel was regrowing, this time as an immortal.

-

Rigel woke up. Looking around, the room felt different to him than before. The sights remained the same, but somehow they were imbued with a different hue, or emotion. Now Rigel looked around as an immortal.

-

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"I feel fine, why?" Rigel answered.

"Don't remember me? I'm your nurse. I injected you with the serum."

"Yes, I remember you. But I didn't realize I was supposed to feel any different."

"Well, do you?"

"Yes," he said. "I feel robust, Rejuvenated."

"That's good," she said. "That's how many of our patients feel."

-

Rigel floated through the plant chambers. He felt more vibrant, more akin to his beloved plants. Now he and they could both go on propagating.

-

"What's it like?" Vespa asked.

"I don't know how to describe it. There isn't any one or other particular thing that's different. But somehow everything's different. It's like -- have you ever tried Cariwanna?"

"No," she said, admitting her innocence.

"It's like being high all the time."

-

The ship glided through more space. Crew continued investigating data, watching the news.

-

The plant had a chewy texture. Rigel kept on chewing, for what felt like minutes on end. It gradually dissipated in his mouth. He swallowed the residues, as juices dripped down his throat. I think it's a keeper, he thought.

The plant, a large fruit from a sprawling tree, had taken years to grow. Rigel had requested a few seeds before the ship set out, knowing that it would take many years to mature. Finally, the fruit had ripened, leaving behind its toxicity. Before trying it himself, Rigel had conducted numerous tests, recording the data.

The ship came equipped with a full suite of laboratory equipment. For testing medicines and other products, and for testing samples from victims of the pandemic. Any clue that could yield insight was valuable.

Rigel went back for follow-up testing. Had the medicine finally cured his infection?

The ship had a large medical section. The ship also had onboard stores of food and fuel to last a full decade in case of outages. However, it ran primarily starlight that it collected as it traveled, converting some of that into food grown in its onboard farms, which in some ways resembled factories more than farms.

Food production was a different department than Rigel's plant research. Still, Rigel took an interest in the food grown onboard. The crops had been selected for space efficiency, taste, nutrition, and variety. Each crop had been tested and approved for safety and satisfaction, long before launch.

The ship also had an onboard kitchen, with some of the boldest kitchen staff, who had been willing to cook even here in pandemic region. A few entertainment devices in the corner of the dining hall were available for crew to connect to their visors. However, after the first few months, and aside from the occasional long stretches of empty space, these devices largely sat idle.

The ship pushed on. Through the megameters separating the stars, they swept through space. Gathering data.

-

Vespa and Rigel sat together in mid-air, hovering among the zero-g plants. Holding each other's hands, they felt a brief period of satisfaction.