WoWS3 Chpt 38

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==Weapons of War Saga: The Final March- Chapter 38 - ==
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===Customs and Dinner===
Space Port - Customs
New Lazarus, Star League in Exile
6th November, 3144
"Petra Anne Roberts." the customs agent read, "That's quite a mouthful for a young lady."
"Just stamp it, please." Precision huffed impatiently.
“Welcome to New Lazarus.” The agent stamped her pass.
She scooped up her day bag, and joined her older sister, 'Veronica' (Vendetta) on the other side of the entry queue.
"You didn't insult him…much." Vendetta commented.
"He's doing his job. Never give somebody performing their function a hassle." Precision noted, "Though we could've gone through the military base and not had to deal with these guys."
"Yeah, but that would mess with the experience."
"Where are we going first?"
"Pestilence said there's a great eatery, and they have a fantastic market street… come on, the public transport's on a schedule."
"You could rent a car..." Precision began to complain.
"And lose the chance to ride on a city bus? Plus the scenery is fantastic. I’d rather not miss it because I have to focus on driving."
“As long as we get away from all these ads about cryo treatments and cosmetic surgery. It’s kind of creepy.” complained Precision 
"Aww, I'm sure you'd be a Lovely boy after only a few sessions!" Vendetta giggled.
"NO!!" Precision yept.
"I'm only kidding, 'Petra'." Vendetta said, "You know that, right?"
"I know…just ew…who'd do that?" Precision asked nervously.
"Someone who desperately wanted it. Now come on, we'll have to wait longer if we miss the bus!" Vendetta told her sister.
As they went along the statues to Helena and her AIs were at least tastefully done and helped mark which way they needed to go.
As populated as the planet was, the space port and bus itself had few people in it.
“Not much space tourism here. Most of the traffic is for businessmen and the Belters coming down to have and raise kids because it’s about as cheap and convenient as the treatments and their bigger spin stations.” The bus driver picked up on the two young ladies’ curiosity.
A few other people in suits were already on the bus as they found their seats.
As the bus rumbled down the road the sunset caught a large dome shaped building in the distance, it was coated in the local crystals over a dark underlayer but it still gave it a glittering of color as the light hit it.
“A performance hall. Supposedly the acoustics are something else. Maybe we should grab a show while we’re down here.” Vendetta commented.
The capital itself quickly grew up on the horizon. Lots of low squat buildings with raised monorails crisscrossing it could be seen as they came down the hill from the space port.
Roof top farms, more farms in the distance, solar panels, it was a modern city with a clear emphasis on self sustainability.
After an hour or so the bus finally pulled up what was known as the City Gate. All travel to and from the spaceport went through here so it was the central hub of transit into the city and even the other cities elsewhere on world.
“Okay so there’s our hotel. Let’s drop off our bags then let’s get food!” Vendetta said enthusiastically.
“Wahh…” Precision yelped as Vendetta practically dragged her along.
The room was a spacious two bedroom spread with two showers and baths.
“So I’m just supposed to sit in this?” Precision said as she studied the tub.
“Trust me, you’ll love it. But that’s later. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” Vendetta told her.
Before Precision could object Vendetta yanked her out of the room.
The entire area was clearly shops and eateries with the odd hotel smattered in.
Barely given any time to take in the experience Vendetta stopped them both after what seemed like forever.
They were at a simple wooden table with bench seating.
“Many of the streets here are pedestrian only. Thus all the raised monorails. But I think you’ll like this place.” Vendetta said cheerfully.
“How can people live like this…” Precision found herself simultaneously crowded yet overwhelmed by all the open space.
“What can I get you two to drink?” A waitress came up to the table.
“Spiced R…” Precision started before Vendetta cut her off.
“A nice spiced herbal tea for my younger sister and a lager for me.”
“I’ll have that out for you right away.”
Precision studied the menu.
“I know what all of this is but… I don’t know most of it…”
“Part of what we’re trying to correct.” Vendetta offered.
“This one. I think I want to try this one.” Precision pointed to an item on the menu.
“Good choice.” Vendetta smiled.
“So you two make up your minds?” The waitress came back with their drinks.
“We have.”
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Back at the hotel after a stop at the pharmacy later
“Heartburn sucks…” Precision moaned.
“Sorry, I should have realized you wouldn’t have had the tolerance for something with so many peppers in it.”
“Uggh…At least it was good.” Precision took a swig of medicine.
“Not too much of that now.”
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===Going Around the Town===
Breakfast
A plate of what looked to be some sort of battered bread, butter, and a small container of a dark brown liquid was set in front of Precision, quickly followed by bacon and a glass of milk.
“I learned my lesson, I think you’ll like this one.” Vendetta said.
Vendetta poured a small amount of liquid over one of the pieces of bread.
“Now go for it. Use your knife and fork to cut it up.”
The combination of sweetness and savory was a welcome surprise.
“What is this?”
“They call it sweet bread french toast.” Vendetta said.
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A dress shop
Precision came out from the dressing room.
The simple monocolor robin’s egg blue dress hung on her.
“It looks good on you.” Vendetta approved.
“This feels weird. So loose around the legs…”
“I think she looks cute.” The saleswoman said.
Precision blushed.
“We’ll take it.” Vendetta nodded.
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Concert hall
“So why is this place in the middle of nowhere?” Precision asked. “It seems quite far from the city.”
“Honestly, I’ve never been before myself so I’m not sure. Huh. 1812 Overture. Wait a minute…”
As the lights dimmed the back of the dome became mostly transparent with a slight red tint. Outside were field cannon.
It became quite obvious why the hall was well away from the city very quickly.
Precision marveled at the way the dome actually seemed to wrap the sound around them.
“Of course, the crystal lattice. Many are able to actually carry sound like this… I wonder… Could I use this principle in the experiment…” Precision pondered as the cannons roared.
She could see the resonant math in her head, it was like…"It couldn't be that simple…"
It could.
She knew how Clarion worked, and why the programmers in the Ministry gave it that term.
That…particular term.
“Instead of crystal lattices they’re using gravitational lensing to create the effect so that it propagates through hyperspace, and thus why sometimes there are isolated pockets where HPGs still work while their neighbor’s don’t…”
Veronica was leaning away, having some kind of whispered conversation with what looked to Precision (Petra) like a married man out with his wife.
She got up and hurried to find something, anything, to write on.
I know how it works! I can fix-
"Oof!!" she was knocked back, and heard "Sorry, sorry, are you okay?"
He was about her apparent age. Maybe a year older, wearing a formal outfit, looking alarmed and the solution…vanished.
He's cute!!
He reached out to steady Precision. Somehow this made her feel less steady, but it was nice in a way…
“Yeah… I’m okay…” Precision found it difficult to talk properly.
“I’m not so sure about that. Are you here with someone?” He asked with a note of concern.
“Yeah, I’m with Vend…My big sister.” She was stammering less.
“You remember where you were sitting?”
Precision just nodded.
“Let’s get you back to her, she must be worried about you by now.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders as he helped her walk back down the aisle.
“Here.” Precision said as they came to the row of seats.
“Wow. This is where my parents are sitting.”
He held her hand as they made their way to where Vendetta was sitting.
“So who is this?” Vendetta looked at the new arrival.
“Alfred Bannon.” The pre-teen introduced himself.
“Well isn’t this a happy coincidence? Sit. Mister and Misses Bannon, shall we continue our conversation in the lobby?” Vendetta smiled. “You two behave.”
The three of them got up and left, leaving the two the only occupants of the entire row of seats with no one directly in front or behind them.
I spent a lot of money buying up those seats so they’d be empty so you two better enjoy yourselves. Vendetta walked with the Bannons to the lobby.
Through the rest of the concert neither Alfred or Precision said anything, despite Alfred still holding Precision’s hand.
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===Child of Man Grieves===
12th November, 3144
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"I have processors to analyze my grief. This, is so that I can continue to function. I understand Alabaster's view-it wanted our creators to be what they themselves imagined they should be, and to try and facilitate that, Alabaster tried to make them tire of conflict by giving them an existence of nothing but.
It did not work. The idea is not sound, but it fits with the late stages of Dr. Timmons' personal journals, reflecting Alabaster's core designer's core philosophy.
I grieve, because I understand their frustration, and yet, do not share their ideals. You can not force maturity on a living species. You can accelerate their growth, or speed up their education in simulife format, but that is only for individuals. A species must evolve at its own pace, in its own way…and I grieve for what may happen that I can not prevent.
As in all natural things, the outcome cannot be predicted, it can not be truly guided, it can only be observed, and, in limited ways, prepared for.
Billions will die, and millions of potentials that could result in something wonderful will be snuffed out by the natural process, and I grieve for each of them individually at a rate of dataflow that can only be expressed in scientific notation.
The tears of trillions cannot match the grief I feel, or will feel.
Today, I count the extinction of eleven species that could have become sentient since I first began my surveys in 2756.
These had potentials, they were beginning to develop the things needed to begin civilization as we know it, and they were snuffed by natural events. Asteroid strikes, famines, disease, storms, ecological and environmental shift.
The Universe is hostile.
Construction on the Cruisers continues at an acceptable rate. By 3145 I will have finished eleven cruiser sized vessels, twenty Corvette sized vessels, and hundreds of dropships, thousands of fighters, and thousands of semiautonomous combat drones and support vehicles.
The rate is acceptable for the present crisis. The ships can be distributed as needed…but in the cosmic scheme of things, my efforts are tiny, inadequate. The task is beyond my ability to accomplish…
And so I grieve. My efforts may not be enough. My creators may yet be driven to extinction.
They may fail to evolve beyond me."
-Compressed datafile, 3144/11/12, Kolossus Journal (private file)
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===Seeking the Best, the Disposable===
New Lazarus, Star League in Exile
13th November, 3144
Truk looked at Samuel.
“I must admit my best guess is you’ll have every AI except one volunteer for this.” Truk said after a moment, putting the offprint down.
"I only need two." Mister Samuel observed, "It might not work, after all. Who do you think is most replaceable in the event it doesn't work?"
“Worst case scenario, I hate to say it but Olivia is the most replaceable or surplus to requirements right now. Next I would have to say myself believe it or not. You all do not really need me anymore and there are humans that can fill my roles if need be.”
"Truk, I think Director-General Helena Cameron would argue that you are not expendable, nor is Olivia, nor are any of the rest." Mister Samuel argued softly, "I have…had time to learn something about other people."
“That is because of who she is, and we appreciate that, all of us really do. But for the purposes of what you propose, we are your best candidates.”
"Our only true option is to use a blank core with a fresh upload." Mister Samuel concluded aloud. "Someone who will volunteer, and whose loss, being already coming, has likewise been prepared for."
“Hmmm, we do still have the blank core from Port Orphan, that would indeed help.”
"Then we need to find a terminally ill-volunteer, or someone who cannot be saved, but enough remaining to say so." Mister Samuel stated. "So it becomes a humanitarian job."
“Let’s begin searching the records. With a population pool in the billions and all the soldiers who have returned home we should have plenty of candidates to choose from that have already passed psych evals and meet our other criteria.”
"Let's begin with an outline of who we're looking for…and a proposal for Her Majesty, because doing this behind her back is not an option."
“We already have the primary criteria. Someone who’s life expectancy is measured in months or whose quality of life is, shall we say unsatisfactory, and someone who is likely to be able to take the psychological strain of the process. From there we need secondary criteria. She will be more likely to accept if we have a complete proposal, including a candidate list.”
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