12 Miles Below

Book 2. Chapter 1: The dangerous message in a bottle

Tonight, the gods will soar above us.

Mathematics and orbital calculations predicted their trajectory within the second and meter. Above exactly this spot Talen would soar far, far above, beyond the clouds, lit up by starlight and the reflection of the distant sun, still shining upon his fortress.

The scale of the flying fortress was truly immense. Even with the naked eye, we could see the structure. Flying high enough in orbit of the world that the sun would shine on the metal structure unobstructed, making his fortress look like a glowing white spot in the darkness. I’ve heard and read that the effect was like what lit up the moon, the only other celestial object.

“T minus three minutes.” The comms pinged.

Scavengers huddled around two lines of power cells, kept upright in the snow a good distance from the resting airspeeder. Many knelt in reverence, some holding out different trinkets, beads, sigils and rope figures depending on family traditions. Some rubbed their hands occasionally with a rhythmic clap. Others bowed low a few times, repeating mantras under muted mics. Most held hands with their neighbors and simply looked to the night sky. They had dedicated one comm channel to songs.

It had been two weeks since I had crawled out of the underground and back to the surface. I’d spent most of my time half asleep on a bed, and the other half talking mad scrapshit with Teed or playing games of cards. They kept me on painkillers for only a few days and then weaned me off of them. Those were the worst days of my life. Pain was almost always a constant, especially during the sponge baths.

The food was equally terrible, mostly frostbloom wrapped around ration bars, and the water had that tell-tell metallic tint of freshly boiled snowdrift taken straight from the white wastes. That was all unavoidable, of course.

Most of the crew had thought we would return straightaway to the colony after pulling me out of the underground and accomplishing the goal of our Clan Lord. They hadn’t expected the expedition to be extended, so the food rations had been limited.

Instead, the clan lord gave a different set of coordinates to go to. This one pulled from my data logs. A set of coordinates that would lead to a book hidden on the surface.

A book hidden by a goddess.

“T minus two minutes.”

The moon was full tonight, though it was reported that Talen wouldn’t fly in between the moon and our viewpoint. Further behind me, they scattered tents around the lone airspeeder, but nobody was inside any of them right now. Everyone was watching the center, or had their eyes peeled for the white bright star that was rapidly approaching.

A line of power cells had been setup, expertly plotted out with string, measurements and markers to make sure each line was perfectly straight. I didn’t think it was strictly needed, the range of the celestial fly-bys were a few meters wide, so long as the cells were somewhere in that zone the process would work. Still, the surface dwellers were a superstitious bunch, and this was the gift of our gods. Respect was to be given.

The majority of these cells were empty, all golden-green glow extinguished. A few remained with glimmers of light leaking out and maybe three were still mostly full.

Teed had calculated the fuel capacity we had, the coordinates we were aiming for and the distances involved. The result had been a resounding “Not even close.”

We had to make a detour to the nearest celestial fly-by path, which happened to be Talen’s fortress. From there, we would have the fuel needed to make the journey in whole.

“T minus one minute.”

The bright star approached, in a direct line above us. It seemed to drift across the night sky, only a few inches a second from my point of view. I could discern bits of the angular structure from this distance. Journey’s optics could zoom in and give me a much clearer picture, but I chose not to make use of that. I had no charms, no wishes written out, and no way to decorate Journey’s helmet during the trip. It would be bad luck to view the gods without such preparations.

To stare up at the sky and peer further than the naked eye was to be closer to divinity, not something to be done lightly. Naturally, telescopes were a religious symbol rather than a scientific one to all us surface dwellers.

The clan saw them made and used mostly by the astronomer priests. There was only one exception for the common people.

For most non-scavenger houses, there were very few moments in their life spent outside the clan colony, out into the cold.

The gods passing by nearby was one such moment.

During that time, quite a big fuss would be kicked into gear. Friends, usually teenagers grouping together with one adult as a mentor, or the odd group of adults seeking purpose, would gather to construct communal telescopes weeks ahead of time. Adorning them with charms, fabric, strings and written wishes. When the day came, they would walk out from the colony in groups, led by more experienced Retainers, to find a place to camp.

People loved it. Security dreaded it. Parameters miles away had to be setup. Ground around the colony had to be swept and made safe for the god seekers, since a majority of them would be donning environmental suits for the first time in a real situation. Children were outright barred from this of course, which made it something to look forward to growing up.

Getting to go outside for the first time, with a telescope friends and yourself have spent the last month meticulously putting together. Investing all that time, energy and hope to see with eyes the gods above. It was a beautiful time, a signal of stepping into adulthood.

I suppose, as a relic knight, I’d very quickly have a different view of the whole ceremony. Knights were all expected to patrol and protect, after all. I’d be among the drinking crowd now, who breathed a sigh of relief once it was all over and everyone was back indoors, safe and sound.

As a knight there were going to be a great many such changes for me. This armor came with responsibility. A weight of tradition that stretched behind me for centuries on what it meant to be a clan knight.

Talen continued its journey in the sky and I watched on. Lighting suddenly lit up between it and the ground, striking down far on the horizon, a quick series of flashes and then nothing. That must have been another group of surface dwellers on Talen’s path.

In truth, the speed that fortress truly flew at was breathtaking. The astronomer priests say the gods take one hundred and eight minutes to orbit the world, moving at a truly terrifying speed. Around seven and a half kilometers a second.

There was a little less than a minute on the timer when the lighting struck down in the distance. At the speed of the satellite, then I could calculate that our fellow surface dwellers refueling on Talen’s orbit were stationed some four hundred fifty kilometers away, a little less than three hundred miles.

“T minus thirty seconds.”

Only a few seconds and the fortress had already sped past that entire distance. This was a gift the gods granted to the surface dwellers, and not one that came for free. The songs mentioned how it would have been far easier for the gods to remain in a simple orbit. And yet they took time out of their fight against the darkness beyond to be there for their people.

Lately I had been having a small crisis of faith, having met one of these gods.

“T minus fifteen seconds.”

She’d called herself a researcher that had uploaded her mind and soul into a digital format. I wondered if the other two gods were similar. Tsuya wasn’t simply the goddess surface dwellers worshiped. She had been the goddess that the imperials worshiped as well, according to her own words.

And yet, we surface dwellers worshiped Urs and Talen in addition, but the imperials did not. They only had one goddess.

Why the difference? What were the gods truly capable of? When prayers were sent to Tsyua, could she hear them? Or was she more a force of nature, leftover powers of ancient times, still clashing against one another. Simply a part of the world like a snowstorm would be.

“Ten seconds. All scavengers, trigger earplugs.”

The countdown continued on my HUD, and the comm channel continued to speak the numbers down past five. Though most of the people here wouldn’t be able to hear anything anymore. The Surface dwellers lined up began to feverishly bow up and down into the snow, others huddling closer to their neighbours, singing intensifying despite how deaf everyone was. The relic armors would stifle sound the very instant before the celestial flyby, otherwise I would have been at risk of going deaf myself for a few hours with what was coming.

“Three.”

“Two.”

“One.”

It was over in an eye-blink. The world went silent for that same eye-blink as Journey sealed all audio-in.

One moment the cells lined up were all dim and dying, only waste water filled them up. The next moment, a bright flash of lighting, silently striking down from the heavens, expertly snaking through the air and striking each individual cell in such a flurry of speed, it all seemed to be one bolt of power. I could feel a slight vibration through my being, greatly damped by the armor and layers.

A blink of an eye and everything was normal once more. Talen continued to fly above us, its own journey never ending. The power cells before us were all filled back to the brim, green-gold light illuminating the snow around them.

The scavengers all stood up cheering, raising hands and praising the gods, earplugs being turned off and religious fever lighting through the comms.

Talen was already halfway across the world when I looked back up, the bright white star swiftly making its way to the horizon line, where it would disappear from view in minutes. Once it was out of sight, it would be time to return to work. The crew would conclude the ceremony and then load the cells back into the airspeeder, replacing the spent ones inside and putting all the spares in the cargo bay.

Kidra connected on the comms with me. “You wanted to talk to me after the fly-by?”

“Aye.” I said, waving her over. We walked out into the white wastes, a short distance away from the hustle around the airspeeder.

“This is about the recording.” Kidra guessed.

“Got it in one. Atius and I heard it. He told me it was my choice of what to do with the recording. Whether to ask for help, pass it on to someone else, or outright refuse the call.” I took a deep breath, turning. “I have been thinking about it ever since. And I’ve made my choice. Do you want to hear what was in the recording?”

Kidra didn’t answer immediately. She understood what I was implying with this simple question. The information within was dangerous. The people who heard it would be targets. Even being in my proximity was already putting her in danger. This was a mission given by a goddess. The stakes weren’t some petty clan politics like we were used to.

My sister took her time to consider, sitting down on the snowbank, watching the last light of Talen wink away beyond the horizon. The only celestial object left was the bright moon.

“I’m already involved.” She answered back, finally. “I was present when she gifted you this recording. Even if I don’t know what’s on this message, I am a target by proximity.” The helmet of Winterscar was inscrutable, hiding all features she might have worn on her face. “I would rather know what endangers my life than to live in its shadow. Show me the recording.”

Wordlessly, I clicked the options on my HUD, connected the file to the comms and began the session. The recording itself was short. Tsyua’s voice came to life on the channel.

“Keith. If you’re listening to this, then I’m glad you survived and made it out of her grasp. I am truly sorry that you were caught in the line of fire between Relinquished and myself. You are not the first, and unfortunately, you will not be the last either. I know very little about you except what I've seen of your trial underground. Despite that, I recognize something within you. I believe you may yet play a larger part in all this.”

There was a pause before she continued. “For the sake of operational security, this recording only contains limited information. You will have to fill in the gaps yourself. I have scattered hints across, some of which will only make sense as you journey further into the realm below. Given that inquisitive spirit that I’ve seen from you so far, I don’t doubt you will surely catch on, though it may take you some time.

This war between Relinquished and myself has gone on for eons. The arms race has been eternal, and so too have our attempts to cripple the other. Either in behavior, action, mind, or even spirit. You’ll find the traces of these wars at every level you descend. Remains that have shaped the landscape. New threats that were countered in unusual ways, or old threats that were resurfaced, repurposed and sent back into the action. Somewhere underground is one such thing of the past that I seek.”

There was a pause, and I could hear her take a breath. I wasn’t sure if that was intentional, some added effect or if Tsuya had a living body somewhere.

“Listen closely. Everything that follows, is a result of what you see here. I hide the most important things in a place she cannot conceptualize any longer, and she does the same to me.

Old viruses that have long since been purged but whose effects still last today. Since I cannot see where my target remains, I dispatch others to do it in my steed.

This relic you found on Cathida, it’s called a seeker. There are only three left I know of.

I do not know how they work. I do not remember how I programmed the seeker, or if I even created it. I only have a single memory that remains, of me choosing to erase all knowledge as a counter-measure against Relinquished.

I believe it might be searching for an old weapon of a kind, something that couldn’t be fully destroyed by Relinquished, so she was forced to hide it away instead.

The mites occasionally entertain my requests, helping me out of their own whims. I suspect they do the same for her. That she asked them to create a space somewhere where she hides her secrets.

The mites are the key, Keith. They are the key.

And the seeker will respond to them.”

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