MBGSP Chapter 177 - 179

Chapter 177 - Myriad Station

It wasn’t just goblins and Ifrit aboard Myriad. Midnighters had insisted on coming as well. Cla’thn had come, along with her nameless elite guard. We had one of the modules blocked off for them with few electric lights and windows that could be easily covered to prevent the sunlight from hurting the priestess caste’s sensitive skin. I made my way through the station to their quadrant where an elite let me through.

The way the Midnighters treated the goblins, you’d think we hadn’t just fought a deadly battle where I’d threatened the life of their queen. Although, since both the Midnight Queen and the First Daughter still had invisible levels to me, I wondered if even the railgun would have been enough. Still, the bugs didn’t seem to harbor grudges. They cared about one thing, right now, and that was waking up their Queen of Queens.

Priestess Cla’thn had taken to micro-gravity like a fish to water. When she’d wanted to come up and establish an orbital observatory, I’d worried the goblin-sized modules would be too cramped for her. But she spent most of the day on Rava either stuffed into the dark hollow of the pyramid or sequestered in a palanquin that was one third her own height. She essentially unfolded to fit whatever space she was in, and when I entered the observatory, she was braced with 3 points of contact on the bulkhead as she adjusted the focus ring on her telescope.

“Raphina should be out of sight for another hour,” I said.

The priestess looked up from her scope and began to draw her forearms across one another to produce her voice.

“Ah, King Apollo, it is good to see you. Yes, the moon is out of sight. But this scope can be pointed down, as well. No one has ever seen our homeland from a height such as this. I spied the mound ‘neath which I was hatched.”

Heh. Some things never change. When Google Earth came out, the first thing every one did was look to see if they could find their own house. I suppose spaceborne observatories were little different.

“I’m guessing you’ve been doing more than spying on your neighbors,” I said, pushing off the bulkhead and floating to a chart clamped to the table. It had dozens of detailed sketches of terrain features rendered in high detail—plains, canyons, forests, river tracks, and more. “These are all Raphina?”

“Yes. I am attempting to narrow down the precise location of the Queen of Queens. It is my suspicion that she is in the center of the hemisphere of Raphina which faces Rava.”

“Makes sense if she wants to push down as much influence as possible. But just because it makes sense doesn’t mean it’s accurate. What’s the evidence to support your hypothesis?”

Cla’thn joined me at the table. The claws on her legs anchored her to the bulkhead where her narrow, carapace toes wrapped around cables or piping. “The drift of the moon, when viewed from the surface of Rava, draws a circle in the sky. You have seen this, yes?”

“I have, though it didn’t seem to be correlated with the time of day.”

“The moon itself also rotates slightly as it does so. These canyons are the feature on Raphina which is always the shortest distance to Lanclova.”

I studied the canyons. “Almost like it’s  a balloon drifting on a tether, but that tether’s anchor never changes, and neither does the contact point on Raphina.” I peered closer at the drawings and then set one aside. “There was more water here when I first arrived from my world. Not an ocean’s worth, but an inland sea with a few islands. Now it’s canyons with water in the cracks.”

“As though something pushed up from below, cracking the ground and creating cavities through which the water flowed.”

I crossed my arms and considered. “Could be. If this creature is growing large enough to destabilize the entire planet, it’s not just in the crust. Its body would probably have to extend down into the mantle. If it’s shifting and growing, there should be accompanying volcanic activity, as well. Have you seen any steam eruptions or lava flow on the surface?”

Cla’thn looked through her sketches and notes for a map drawn from a higher angle that showed a good deal of the surface facing Rava. With a small charcoal stick she marked three spots with a symbol I didn’t recognize.

“Here I have seen molten stone, while here and here I have witnessed great vents of steam at odd intervals.”

I peered at her chart. “Where’s the canyon area we just looked at in relation to these?”

Cla’thn reached down again and drew a rough outline of the canyon’s footprint. It covered one of the volcanic marks, but not the two that were closest to each other. I scratched at my chin.

“Hmm… It doesn’t help that we don’t know the creature’s shape, size, or form. We call it a dragon, but that’s just in lieu of actually knowing. Heck, even on Earth, dragons come in all shapes and sizes.”

“You have dragons on your otherworld?” asked Cla’thn.

I paused. “Er… no, actually. We have stories and artwork of dragons. I think it’s specifically because they don’t actually exist that we have so many different interpretations of the concept. But that’s not important.” I tapped the map. “Well, we don’t want to land in an active volcano, and of these other two spots, the one in the canyon will be completely submerged in water. Let’s split the difference between the two closer points and go for this valley. That’ll put us on dry land, and close to the canyons.”

“Very well, King Apollo,” said Cla’thn. She pulled out another identical map with three symbols marked, and a middle-point that was probably only a couple hundred kilochooms off of the one I’d made. “I am relieved we came to the same conclusion independently.”

Any chance you want to confirm, System?

<Cannot return query>

Didn’t think so.

“There is still the other matter, King Apollo,” said Cla’thn.

I glanced up. “Hmm? Oh, yes, our friends. Have you spotted any of them now that we’re out of Rava’s atmosphere?”

The thick, cloying atmosphere of Rava had always made the surface of Raphina appear as though through a thick haze. Rava was a humid world, and there was a lot of vapor in the atmosphere—even when the sky wasn’t overcast for daily rainstorms. Getting a few hundred kilochooms above the visual distortion should let the Midnighter scopes function much better than they ever had on the surface, seeing details that might have been invisible before.

“Indeed, I have,” said Cla’thn. She surprised me by shuddering. “They are… not pleasant to look upon. I have rendered several of them.

Considering that opinion came from a three-meter bipedal insect, I figured that must have lent some weight to it. I looked through the papers pinned to a board until I found the sketches. “These are surprisingly varied,” I said, flipping through. “The null devil in the desert was like a scorpion or centipede. But some of these have wings or tails, or talons instead of pincers.” I held up one of the drawings. “This one really does look like a dragon.” I grabbed another pair. “These look like a dartwing and a whistler. Are they somehow getting altered or shaped by feeding off the System?”

“I can offer naught but conjecture that its dreams which they devour affect their physical forms. But there is more I wish to show you.”

“By all means,” I said.

Cla’thn reached below the table and pulled out a gossamer cloth, which she wrapped about her face and neck. I was confused for a moment before she reoriented herself and pulled back the covering on the porthole facing down towards Rava. Night was tracking across the planet as we flew overhead, cutting a dark crescent across its surface. It was somewhat strange seeing a planet from orbit without any trace of cultural lighting on the night side. I knew they were down there, millions and millions of people, orcs, intelligent insects, and dozens of other cultures I had never met, scene, or heard tale of. Rava might not be as big a world as Earth, but it was still a world. I pressed my face to the glass and took it in. This was the opposite hemisphere to Lanclova, a side of the planet that I’d never seen. Two continents stretched below, separated by a slim channel of water. I could just make out the right angles and lines that made up several cities across its surface, each surrounded by a patchwork of farmland.

“Amazing,” I said. And I meant it, too. “What am I looking at?”

“‘Tis the Hornbough, ancestral home of the hell-kin and the Defiant Ones”

I glanced up at the priestess. “Hell-kin?”

“Demon spawned. No Midnighter dares walk those lands, and yet…” she leaned down. “From up here, it looks not unlike anywhere else on the surface. I have watched at this portal, seeing all the lands of Rava as none has ever before. The troubles, the wars, the brooding resentment. It all seems so petty, now. If only they could glimpse what we have glimpsed.”

“Wait, are we talking, like, literal demons? Is that a thing here?”

Cla’thn ignored me, caught in fascination for her world as seen from 130 kilochooms of altitude. I couldn’t blame her. All I could think about was Sagan’s Pale Blue Dot, the fragility of the world below us, and how the singular question of so many who stared up at the sky in wonder had been answered. Are we alone in the universe? No. A resounding, emphatic no. And our neighbors were so wild and crazy and different, and yet somehow still as close to us as a twin in the womb. They had reached out to touch us. Not out of malice, or conquest, but in a desperate plea of brotherhood to preserve that wondrous reflection of life that perhaps our two worlds alone shared. A single thread, stretched taught across the cosmos and woven by the unconscious hands of a being as close as indiscernible to godhood, yet every bit as fragile as those it watched over.

<Not a god.> System reminded me.  

It wasn’t just the planet itself I wanted to help. If we were to succeed, and if this trip to the surface was a one-way ticket as I expected it to be for anyone not capable of  hitching a ride on a radio wave, I wanted to leave Rava in a better state than I’d found it. With Rufus I’d left texts containing my knowledge of advanced technologies. Of food preservation, crop rotation, germ theory, medical practices, construction materials, metallurgy, electrical generation, internal combustion, and even the foundationalal principles of binary computers. I’d left calculus, trigonometry, physics, and math principles. I’d left a how-to guide on the scientific method. Not just the way the technology would work for goblins, but the true paths of science, experiment, and exploration. The people of Rava didn’t need to be fast or cut corners, like I did.

They could take their time. I just had to make sure they had enough of it.

Chapter 178 - Going Mooney

My rocket wasn’t the last to join Myriad. Buzz and his builders had come up to do what they did best, and over the next several days they transformed the station from a lose amalgamation of modules into something entirely new: a spacecraft with multiple stages in its own right. When Promo joined us on Myriad 15, he did so with extra tanks still holding enough fuel to move a station across the orbital threshold between binary planets. We weren’t just taking a lunar lander against an army of null devils, after all. We needed some extra hardware.

Rava and Raphina were close neighbors, closer than Earth and Luna. Coupled with lower gravity than Earth and a stronger upward pull than Luna, and we’d be getting a lot more bang for our buck than any of the Apollo flights. NASA never had to wage a war on the moon, after all, and their trip was being funded by taxpayers. The cost to get even a pound of material to Luna’s surface and back measured in tens of thousands of dollars. It’s hard to justify taking a full armory and hundreds of goblins to wield it to your average American.

After a dozen EVAs to check connections and mountings, we were ready to start the next phase of the plan.

I radio’d down to the bluff. “Canaveral, this is Myriad Actual. We’re locked and ready for trans-Raphina injection burn.”

“Good copy, boss! Your window is coming up,” said Harris back down on the ground.

From the mission control module I could see the various parts of Myriad Station, which we’d divided into three main structures, each powered by a set of multiple rocket motors. I could see several goblins in EVA suits still floating around. I groaned and pulled away from the microphone. “Buzz, give the recall order.”

“Did already, boss,” said Buzz. He shrugged. “Some jus’ want to ride outside’s, all. Suspect they’s having some convenient radio issues, if you catch my meaning, king.”

Well, at least they were tethered. But I had a feeling most of those goblins were going to regret their life choices. When I gave the order to strap in for the burn, a 100 choom length of cord connected to the outside of the station wasn’t what I’d had in mind, even if it was technically a strap. I pressed the push-to-talk switch again. “We’re good here, Canaveral.”

“The bugs say you can start your burn.”

“Copy, starting burn.”

I reached forward and hit the switch for my rocket motor. Raphina loomed overhead, but we weren’t headed straight for her. Instead, we were using her gravity for a little boost and then taking the scenic route around the planet as we climbed out of low orbit. The station rumbled around me, and I started to drift back against my chair. Loose goblins began squawking as a semblance of gravity returned following days or weeks of free fall. Some of the goblins on board had never felt Rava’s gravity.

Outside, the station started to pull away from the unfortunate onlookers who had elected  to take front-row seats. Beyond them, the port and starboard sections of Myriad turned on their rocket motors as well. The bright starbursts of the multiple rocket motors flared to life on the other two station sections.

“Solid burn, boss,” called Eileen.

“Feelin’ good bout this one, boss,” said Chuck.

“Alright, set course and stay tight.”

Buzz pressed his face to the glass beside me. “Oops,” he said.

“Oops?” I asked. “What oops?”

“Somma’ the lads,” said Buzz, scratching the fur on his head. “Are slow to grasp that tethers got to be tied at both ends.”

I looked out the window. There were significantly fewer goblins space-walking than before—or rather, significantly fewer that hadn’t been left floating in space. The ones who had managed to remember to secure their tethers were now at the end of taut lines being pulled by the station.

I kept the burn going. As we circled Rava for the last time, we climbed up. We continued climbing after we lost contact with Canaveral and then lost sight of Raphina. When we caught sight of the luminous moon cresting the horizon of the planet once again, we’d pushed out of low orbit. Rava was noticeably smaller in the viewports. Its surface, shrouded by a thick, humid atmosphere had become murky and indistinct. Raphina didn’t look any bigger, but over the next two days, it would start to seem like much, much more than just a moon.

The radio crackled as we regained Canaveral.

“Bugs have you in sight, boss!” called Harris. It was hard to hear him over the whooping and cheering in mission control. Their celebrations and excitement for each successful launch was dwarfed only by their cheers and excitement when one of the rockets exploded, instead. “Track looks good. Enjoy the moon!”

“Thanks Canaveral,” I said.

“Got someone here for ye,”

“Oi, boss,”

I recognized the voice. “Neil, you survived?”

“Oh aye, a javeline broke my fall.”

“What?” I asked, sputtering, “A… a javeline?”

“Oh yeah. Don’t worry, I rode to Habberport and hitched a ride with the bugs from there.”

“Rode on what, exactly?”

“Don’ worry ‘bout it, bossman.”

I had so many questions. But for the moment, I was just relieved and astounded that Neil had managed to not only direct his fall but had found his way back to safety. But I suppose if there was one goblin I’d trust to safely navigate the dangers of Lanclova, it was Neil. Plus, it seemed like the fall immunity really did have no limits. Neil had plummeted from the very edge of space and still survived with nothing but his suit. Still, as the now ranking task-master of the tribe.

“Neil, you’re in charge of the tribe. Take care of things down there while I’m gone.”

“Nah.”

I sat up. “Excuse me?”

“Rather go fishin’ with the lads. Boom-fruit fishin’.”

I opened my mouth for a moment, and then closed it, considering. “You know what?” I said. “We wouldn’t be on the way to the moon right now without you. Go fishing. In fact, that’s an order. Is Luther there?”

There was a scuffle on the other end of the connection and my canonneer taskmaster came on.

“I’m here, majesty. What words have you from on high?”

“Add this to the canon: tomorrow is going to be a national holiday,” I said. “Lunar injection day. All members of Tribe Apollo have the day off from normal duties.”

<Goblin Technology Unlocked: Off Days>

The goblins in the space station gasped in unison, looking at each other with wide eyes.

The leadership debate could wait until the next business day.

Chapter 179 - Raphinian Skies

I’d said Raphina would grow over the following days and grow it did. In the two days of coasting to our new orbit, the pink and blue orb grew so large as to fill the viewports with its subtle glow. Meanwhile, Rava shrank to… well, it was still massive, as the binary worlds were as close as magically-tethered celestial bodies could be without tidal forces ripping each other apart. But looking out the viewports at the clouds tracking their way across the surface of the planet and the sun sparkling off cerulean waters far below, it was like seeing for the first time. The telescope hadn’t done justice to the magnificent landscape of sweeping land masses. But the insertion into Raphina’s orbit also carried us to its dark side.

I almost broke into tears when I saw the side of the planet that faced the stars. Decayed forests, blackened mires, fouled waters, and utter destruction scarred the surface of the world. I watched from Cla’thn’s observatory module, scanning her telescope across features no one on Rava had ever seen before. The priestess hadn’t left the window since we entered orbit, face turned to the porthole with her light-limiting shroud wrapped about her face.

“I was not ready,” she said. “Never had I thought… such ruin. This is a world in the throes of death. Even if the Queen of Queens did not threaten the structure of the planet, these null devils would devour all life and leave a world just as dead. And then they would come for Rava.”

“We’re here to make sure that doesn’t happen,” I said. But the tableau admittedly had me just as unnerved as it did the Midnighter sorceress. “Why do they stay on this side? Why don’t they go to the source in the valley where the System is?”

“Perhaps it is yet too strong for them. Perhaps they are burned by its power if they draw too close, so they seek to weaken and poison and nibble until the Queen of Queen’s flame wanes low. Some foul intelligence yet drives these creatures. This we have seen.”

I pulled away from the telescope. “Small blessings. But if they have any brains, they’re not just going to let us wake up the System, even if the valley is painful for them. That’s their meal ticket, after all.”

“True enough.”  The priestess tensed up at the porthole. “Apollo, observe quickly.”

I floated over to join her at the porthole and felt my fur go stiff. Miles and miles below us, shapes were detaching from the landscape and flying up towards us. I recognized the black faceted carapace of null devils rising up from the ground.

“They sense the presence of magic aboard. Myself, my attendants, and the Ifrit.”

Likely the sun crystals we were using to generate electricity,  as well. Even if the goblin technology itself wasn’t magic, there was plenty of magic aboard the station. I floated over to the hatch and put my head through the curtain. Grabbing the nearest goblin,

“Radio over to Chuck, prep for incoming,” I told him. The goblin squawked and floated away.

“I do not think that will be necessary, King Apollo,” said Cla’thn.

Even if they could outrun a jet fighter, they couldn’t keep up with a spacecraft moving at orbital velocity. I relaxed some as the null devils fell behind and returned to the surface. I scratched my chin, watching as another wave lifted in response to our passage. “There must be dozens of them down there. Maybe hundreds.”

“Yes. They have had centuries to feed and spawn. Even if they’ve no love for each other, Raphina is a vast world.”

The decay stretched below from horizon to horizon, cast in relief by the low angle of the sun. It was hard to believe they still had anything to eat down there. But I suppose System was a near-infinite tap, a perfect wellspring of magic that kept these gluttons fed without end. Without predators or competition from their own kind for scarce food, they had grown fat rather than devouring each other as they had on Rava.

I thought about what would have happened if these star creatures had fallen to Earth instead of Rava. In all likelihood, we’d have killed every single one in a matter of days. Even en masse, the giant magic-devouring creatures would be nearly blind to Earth technology. A few squadrons of F-35s with AIM-120 missiles would make much shorter work of these creatures than even the goblin railgun on the C2 jet had. With how ridiculously the 10,000 members of Tribe Apollo had outstripped the technological level of Rava natives, we were still laughably primitive compared to advanced Earth countries.

Earth had grown to a population of billions, after all. Even the Midnight Queen’s most generous estimates for the population of Rava put it at less than a hundred million. Tribe Apollo had the tools we needed to go to the moon, but they were still 100 years out of date. My tribe didn’t have vacuum tubes, photography, microchips, or even punch-card computers.

We passed into the skies of the night side of Raphina, and it became a pitch-black orb, completely bereft of cultural lighting. If there had been a native sapient species capable of building towns or cities down there, I had to believe they were long-since driven extinct by an alien extinction event. Whether these creatures fell by accident, flung by some far-reaching stellar event, or if they were drawn to System like a dinner bell ringing across the cosmos, I couldn’t say. But no one else in either of these two worlds had the power to stop them.

Still, the numbers we were seeing was not what I hoped for.

A half hour later, we passed back onto the day-side of Raphina, and I trained the telescope on the canyons under which System slept—and nearly put my eye out looking at the scope.

“Cla’thn, come see this,” I said.

Cla’thn left the window and took my spot at the telescope. She peered into the aperture and watched for several minutes.

“The mountains… they are shifting,” she said. “Oscillations at regular intervals, spreading stress fractures on the surface.”

“It’s breathing!” I said. “It’s down there snoring.

System.

<Awaiting query>

We found you. I know you can see us, can read our thoughts. But I wanted to tell you. We’re looking at you right now.

There was a pause before the System responded.

<Chris, there is something I must tell you. Once you descend, you will cross beyond operational boundaries of higher-order functionality.>

I tilted my head. I’ll no longer be able to hear you?

<Interference from REDACTED prevents application of the NULL ENTRY.>

At the telescope, Cla’thn had withdrawn. Even through the sheer gauze covering her face, I could see the glazed-over expression in her eyes. The System was probably telling her the exact same thing as it was telling me.

You won’t be able to communicate with us, I realized. Then, as a hollow pit in my stomach started to form, I asked, What about skills? The Goblin Tech Tree? Will they still function?

I stopped short of asking directly about the Head of the Snake skill. We were likely to lose hundreds of goblins, even if we were successful. I hadn’t considered that I might be among them.

<Framework for NULL SET skills are enforced by passive protocols. The NULL Tech Tree may not be as robust.>

“So our equipment could fail at any time,” I said, not realizing that I’d said it out loud. “Does that mean we can’t expect your help?”

<I will try, Chris. But I am bound—and restricted further by NULL ENTITY. But I will be watching.>

In other words, we had one shot. Tribe Apollo had scraped, scavenged, begged, and hoarded the resources to make this mission happen. There would never be a second one. Either we woke the System up, or the null devils continued growing fat off its energy. Either the moon would explode, or the null devils would succeed in killing the celestial space dragon and would then fix their appetites on Rava. And now, we couldn’t even rely on System.

It worried me. It could simply mean I’d lose access to menu functionality or the ability to assign goblins or unlock further technologies. Or it could mean that parts of the Goblin Tech tree could switch off randomly. What was I going to do if a goblin was using a glider or a missile launcher and they somehow forgot how it worked?

What if the glue bonding technology together simply ceased to function? Would our engines seize, our guns jam, and our missiles fizzle on the pylons? I had to believe System knew what it was doing, bringing goblins here. I had to believe, because the alternative was that the imperfect, ill understood magic that had summoned me had made yet another mistake.