12 Miles Below

One of the best perks to being a relic knight so far was that nobody challenged me about being wherever I wanted to be. Clan culture revered knights with good reason. And while the undersiders viewed armor as shared equipment among the footsoldiers - as far as the imperial pilgrims described it at least - the clan viewed relic knights as walking legends. Simply owning an armor elevated one’s status to nobility. Had I not been a member of House Winterscar, I might have gone years of my life before even seeing a knight pass by. They don't spend a lot of time indoors when the armors could be made use of outdoors.

All that to say, I still haven’t gotten used to the behavior around me. Scavengers that used to pass by with light shoves or pushes now put every bit of effort into getting out of my path. People in games of cards became far more reserved in the scraptalking when I joined a hand in. Conversely, trying to scraptalk was an awkward affair now, with the clear power disparity in the air. I’d throw out a light ribbing, only to have some nervous chuckling around the table with everyone burying their eyes to their cards, hoping someone else would speak up next. It was miserable.

Two weeks with this current crew let me get to know quite a few and that stiff echo of respect slowly soften, but there was still the undercurrent that lingered. The only person who felt perfectly comfortable ribbing me back had been Teed, who simply ignored my new rank as a knight altogether and carried on as if nothing had changed.

As a result, I spent more and more time at the bridge, away from all the crew. Teed always had a seat open for me to lounge in, and a story of some kind. Possibly made up. But always plausible enough to have happened.

That’s how I found myself at the pilot’s co-seat as the airspeeder arrived, reaching the end of its long trek.

Teed piloted the ship with alacrity and experience, knowing every sound it could make and what treatments each ailment required. “Approaching coordinates.” He spoke over the main comms, glancing through the windows, looking for a possible point of interest.

Nothing.

So far, these coordinates were pointing us to the middle of nowhere. He looked at me next. “You see anything, kid? You’re the one that gave us the directions.”

“I spy with my little eye, something white.”

“What, not purple or teal?” He pointed out past the windows. All around the airspeeder, the white wastes spread. No sites in view, nothing. Only rolling snowdrifts, appearing on the ground like long snakes of white, flowing within a white mist. Occasionally, bits of metal underground showed as the wind brushed off the right bits of snow. Usually to be buried again with the next gust.

“But seriously, I don’t know what to tell you,” I said. “I got these coordinates from a legitimate source. If it leads to here, it leads to here.”

At that he shrugged. “Lot of old things you been poking your nose in, kid. Maybe what you’re looking for used to be here. And then the underground shifted, or raiders happened to pass by and knock it down. They do that you know? Petty little pricks like breaking things. Pirates could have snatched it if they even got a whiff of there being something to sell.”

That was certainly possible, but I don’t think the goddess would make a rookie mistake of giving obsolete information. Would she? Come to think of it, could she even monitor anything on the surface? Teed might actually be right about some pirates on the surface beating us to the punch decades or centuries ago.

Or we could just have been led on a wild cricket chase. I can’t rule that possibility out.

Nevertheless, he swung the airspeeder down, clicking buttons, toggling the landing gear and gracefully bringing the ship to the ground with a dull thud. “All right.” He said, hands off the handles, cupping the back of his neck. “I got you here. Whatever tourism bite that made you want to come, it’s all you now. Go get your boots on the white.”

“Thanks for the ride, I’ll take some nice pictures for you. Maybe even bring back a souvenir.”

“I’ll pass on the ball of ice, got a collection already back home.”

I gave a nod as he chuckled and got off the seat, making my way out of the cramped cockpit and into the main chamber.

“Scavengers, field break.” The airspeeder taskmaster called out, organizing the labor. The crew would be filing out, each taking to their assigned check up locations, propping for issues and dislodging built up snow.

The loading bay of the airspeeder was quickly dispersing as people hopped off, clearing the way. Not even a month ago, I’d have been part of that taskforce.

Relic knights dismounted as well, taking a few lazy steps out into the white wastes to stretch their legs. The airspeeder passive sensor arrays were more powerful than our armors, if there was incoming approaching, Teed would be calling it out to us.

Atius landed next to me, jumping off the loading bay. He wore a more simple enviromental armor plate, which didn’t fit him well. Most of these metal plates were designed to be put over the more bulky environmental suits, and they certainly didn’t have any of the features a true relic armor could do. At best, they helped block bullets and environmental hazards.

“Odd place to hide a book.” He commented over private comms.

“I’m not going to question a goddess,” I answered back, tapping on my chest plate for luck. “I am but a simple mortal, my lord.”

“Well don’t look at me, lad. That’s the first time I talked to her as well. Perhaps she be the forgetful type. I’ve seen a few of those in my days. Never judge a possibly almighty entity by the cover.”

Kidra landed next to us at that moment, all weapons ready to go for anything we might find. She simply nodded to us both.

Shadowsong Prime and some of the other knights gave us a look, curious about what was going on. The clan lord simply waved at them. “Personal business.” He said. “I won’t need an escort for this. Only the Winterscars are privy.”

That mollified the rest of the knights who simply nodded and went back to their rounds. Shadowsong kept a lingering look for a moment, then shook his head and also turned back to his post.

I suppose getting the personal attention of the great Atius himself isn’t something everyone gets every day. The regular rank and file scavengers didn’t pay any attention. To them this was knight business and none of them wanted to deal with the fish in these tanks.

“Did we get the coordinates wrong?” Kidra asked, surveying the surroundings. Empty white wastes as far as the eye could see.

“No, double checked with Teed earlier. This is it.” I answered back.

“So, where is it?”

To that question, Atius answered, tossing out collapsible shovels at the pair of us from the airspeeder toolbay. “No older time-honored tradition then buried treasure. Only these days we have a latitude and longitude instead of a map with a black crossmark on it.”

Looks like he came up with the same conclusion as I did. I turned to explain the dots that were connecting in my head to my sister. “Think of it this way, if you were a goddess that needed to hide something up on the surface, would you construct some monument or landmark here?”

Kidra nodded slowly, getting the idea. Atius added the rest. “Remember lass, she’s thinking in terms of centuries. The world is wide, and yet, eventually, every corner will be seen by someone. If there were a landmark here, it would have drawn attention. Perhaps not in fifty years, but within a hundred or three, someone will have passed by.”

“So it’s here, only hidden in a manner that scavengers or pirates would not stop to check in.” She concluded.

Atius nodded and then took steps forward. Our small group hiked a bit, closing in on the exact coordinates given by Tsyua.

“It would have to be something more flush with the surface, in such a way that snow would pile up on it. Additionally, it would need to be deadened so that sensors of any kind would not detect it.” I said, putting out my ideas.

Atius gave a small thumbs up at that as he walked. “I might have been tempted to place a decoy landmark as well, except that would draw attention in the first place. Obscurity will be the first and final defense for this.” He took the last few steps and reached the exact coordinates.

Kneeling down, his hand shoveled a bit of it away. Metal remained under us.

Kidra and I got to work with the shovels. Atius stood back up and then remained standing, watching the horizon.

“Not going to assist us?” I asked lightly.

He chuckled, hands folded over his chest. “I am still a clan lord, little Winterscar. Appearances must be held up. It would send a conflicting message to the crew that are no doubt watching our movements from afar anytime they find a chance to peek. There’s a reason I don’t wear a helmet outdoors, even if it would be more comfortable. And above all, I’m old and afraid my back will give out if I bend down to help. You whelps have to respect your elders, right?”

Kidra shook her head, “Never meet your heroes.” She muttered. “And here I believed the clan lord was serious and stoic. It comes as a shock to realize you’re as incorrigible as my brother.”

“A sense of humor keeps me sane.” He laughed. “Stay too serious and the weight becomes stifling.”

“Are there any Deathless that crack under the weight?” Kidra asked while I shoveled.

At that, Atius stopped smiling.

“Yes.” He simply said, more of a whisper in the wind. He looked away and I couldn’t see any more of his face. Kidra seemed to have realized immediately that this wasn’t a question to ask.

Atius still answered regardless. “We live for an eternity, Kidra. Consider it. No death in sight. No end. Just like looking in any direction of the white wastes and seeing nothing on the horizon with every turn you look. You would outlive Keith and all your friends. One by one, they will fade to ash. Our kind need to constantly find purpose and latch onto it tightly, lest we lose sight.”

Kidra nodded slowly. “Please forgive me for asking difficult questions. I spoke too fast for my thoughts.”

Atius chuckled at that, waving his fingers as if the whole issue was a non-issue. “I’ll not begrudge curiosity. Your thoughts must be especially heavy after our past discussion.” Sighing, he glanced up to the heavens. “There are some of my brothers and sisters that eventually give in. That can happen. Some go native, hiding away from the world. Others simply disappear, likely roaming deep underground, away from all contact, possibly insane. Not many of us break like this, thankfully. All of us realize the problem approaching on the horizon and take steps to keep our mental health in check. With enough preparation, that sort of desolation doesn’t consume us easily.”

I was about to offer condolences, except I found what I’d been looking for. A random swipe of my shovel cleared another swath of snow off, and under the blanket was the side of a gold sigil.

The emblem of the Indagator Mortis.

“Found it!” I said, motioning the two to check, thankful that I had an excuse to shift the topic away.

Kidra dug her shovel at the other parts of snow and shoveled it, exposing more of the sigil and what it marked. It ended up being only a handle, flush to the metal ground, with the sigil drawn above.

“Think it’s locked or trapped?” I asked.

Atius shook his head at that. “The remote location is what’s shielded this item. Whoever could find this, they would have to have had the location already. The goddess did not give us anything other than the coordinates, thus she knew we didn’t need anything besides them. Go ahead, lad.”

Without more thought, I grabbed the handle and lifted it out of the groove. It clicked as it slid up out of the grave it had been buried in. There was no electric parts to the box. Journey ran scans of it as I brought it into view.

The inside was impenetrable to sensors, all results showed only a dead black void. The material was shielded. No signs of power of any kind. The handle could be rotated however.

“Think I can open this out here?” I asked.

Kidra shrugged. “If it shouldn’t have been opened, she would have mentioned such a warning, yes?”

Atius nodded. “Agreed. The cold out here would penetrate anything over this long of a time-span. Whatever is inside has long ago matched the temperature of the surface. Not to mention, you won’t be opening this again back on the airspeeder, lad. Get your curiosity settled now, because we’ll not expose the crew to becoming possible targets.”

Nodding, I gave the handle a twist, hearing the tumblers inside click. A final clank and the handle couldn’t be rotated any longer. The lock had been opened. The side of the box could be pried loose from the feel of it.

I did so now, shaking the metal cover open. Inside was more metal. Specifically, sheets of metal stacked together. The bindings were metal rings, and in between each metal panel was a vellum like material to pad the sides. Journey's HUD flickered as I looked over the plates and I pulled the first sheet of metal open.

Nothing. The sheets of metal were perfectly clean and empty. I flipped through a few to verify, then went back to the start. "Just slightly thick sheets of metal." I said, more curious than upset.

Atius reached out and took the box, metal sheets and all. "No, there's writing inscribed on the sheets." He said.

Kidra looked over his shoulder. "I confirm after Keith. I only see metal plates."

I had a feeling I knew what was going on. "Journey, are you obfuscating the text from me?"

The armor answered back without delay. "Affirmative."

"Why?"

"Unknown protocol hardwired within system."

Well. That sounds great. More ratshit to deal with. "Administer override." I said like a magic incantation.

And just like magic, it didn't work.

"Override rejected. Kernel level permissions required."

I swear, I'll be breaking open these armors like a seed and figuring out how they tick. First thing I do on getting home. Right after that hot bath.

Atius shrugged. "I can see the text just fine. I'm not wearing armor, nor a helmet. I'll read the first page aloud to you."

He coughed to clear his throat and began. “If you are reading these words, then I have succeeded and hope yet lives."

Journey's helmet crackled with static, and an error message appeared on the side of the screen. Audio recording disabled.

"I have written these words in metal so that it might survive the test of time." Atius continued, oblivious to the relic armors reacting to his voice. "And so that it might escape her notice. As far away from technology as I could do, for her eyes are endless in that sphere. Out here in the physical world, she may only see through the eyes of her instruments. Care must be taken, reader, for she will surely hunt you down should she find this record exist. No recordings of this text must ever be logged. No sound, video or image.

At some point, humanity stumbled upon a new discovery. A new branch of physics. They called it ‘Acausal physics’. It came from mathematics, specifically chaos theory. Patterns that appear again and again, as if inscribed into reality itself. In my time, it is known as the Occult. This journal holds my lifetime’s attempt to recover what little information on acausal physics survived the calamity - and her notice. This power destroyed the world. Of that I am certain. Perhaps, it can one day be used to repair it. I only hope that these words be read by the right hands - and more importantly - at the right time.”

Journey's hud flickered again, and I could see one single word at the bottom of the plaque Atius had read.

A signature, denoting the author.

Five simple letters.

Talen.

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