Chapter Text
“Seven hands raised! For your apostasy the judgement is... death.”
The unwelcome memory once again forced itself into her mind. Seven hands, so she had been told, but to her sightless eyes it may as well have been seven thousand. Even a single hand raised in favor would be unconscionable in a vote against the lives of children, and the whole of the Orokin were complicit in such a miscarriage of justice. But it was done now: at dawn tomorrow she would be executed, and soon afterward the last survivors of the Zariman Ten-Zero disaster would meet the same fate.
Margulis sat in meditation among the many plants of her greenhouse laboratory. The Seven had not bothered to arrange for a prison cell, perhaps thinking it a waste of resources for such a short stay, or perhaps that the condemned scientist simply posed no threat of violence or escape. Whatever the reason, house arrest had been the sentence, and Margulis savored the smells of flowers all around her in her final hours. The sound of gently trickling and misting water was soothing, and as the air shifted she got whiffs of every specimen around her. Every one of her plants was endangered for some reason or another, and a few species only existed within the confines of her various greenhouses. What would become of them once she was gone? She supposed they too would go extinct, snuffed out by the same greedy, uncaring Orokin empire that had destroyed their habitats to begin with.
A knock came at the door, three quick raps interrupting her silent contemplation. She had gotten used to not knowing who was approaching her, in the months following her accidental blinding at the hands of one of the Void-altered children. It was accidental, she knew that, not that the trigger-happy Orokin leaders seemed to care. No voice came from the doorway, and Margulis supposed it was simply the single guard posted outside looking in on her again, to make sure she hadn’t smashed a window and slit her wrists on the glass. They couldn’t have someone scheduled for execution dying too early now. Where’s the fun in that? Where’s the public spectacle?
The knocks came again. Could it really be someone polite enough to wait before opening the door? More likely the guard had simply set his key down on a shelf and forgotten it a moment ago. “Come in,” Margulis called, on the chance that she really did have a visitor. The door swung open with a slight creak, and Margulis listened for the thud of booted footsteps but heard none. Not a soldier then, not her once-friend Ballas, but someone else she could not identify.
“Archimedean Margulis,” an unfamiliar voice said, “it is an honor to meet you. I have been following your work closely.” It was neutral in pitch and cadence, and there was a slight crackle behind the words, like the speaker had something in their throat.
Was it a fan of her botanical research? Now was not the time to be taking on a new apprentice. She could only hope the training she had passed down already would be enough to continue the conservation effort. “I’m sorry, who is this? I’m afraid I can’t see you — you must have heard about my condition?” She raised one hand to her face. “If you wish to learn from me, you’re too late. Please, just find one of my students. Leave me to my meditation.”
“Actually, I am here about your other work.” There was a pause. “The plants are impressive, though. What are these flowers here on the water?”
“Over there?” Margulis pinpointed the location of her visitor and thought about the layout of the greenhouse. “You’re probably looking at the lotuses. A true relic there — those plants trace their ancestors all the way back to Ancient Earth. They’ve survived every war, every catastrophe, even our exodus to space, all without significant mutation.” Margulis smiled for the first time since her judgement. “If I had to pick a favorite flower, that might just be the one.”
“But you said you’re not here for plants.” Margulis narrowed her eyes, the gesture still ingrained despite the loss of her sight. “You’re talking about the Zariman children?” she asked, incredulous. “Are they not to be killed like I am? Do not show any sympathy for them outside this room, or you may be next yourself.” She sighed and shook her head. “I have done what I can for them, I have protected them this long and given them what comfort was possible, and that will have to be enough.”
The voice came now from the other side of the room. Whoever this visitor was, they must be light on their feet. “I believe we can still save them.”
“We? Who are you? And why are you foolish enough to commit the same crime as me, knowing how it will end?”
“Would you believe me if I told you?” The voice now came from just behind where Margulis was sitting, and still she had not heard footsteps approach.
Margulis stubbornly refused to turn around. “Depends what you tell me,” she said. “Go on, spit it out.”
“Would you believe me if I said... I am a Sentient defector?”
Margulis burst out laughing at the thought. “A defector, from that hive-mind? No drone could ever disobey like that. They’re as bound to their master as the Dax.”
“Is this what your people believe? That there is but a single mind behind the Sentient hordes? No, each one of us is an army, but there are several commanders. Me, my father, the elder currently besieging the planet below, a handful of others. I have seen what we are doing to your people and I no longer want any part of it.
“So many of the dead in this war are innocent. Even your soldiers often fight against their will. And for what? The Orokin deserve to die, but the people like you? The humans who have never touched that accursed substance kuva? Why should you suffer? I admit, I too have participated in this genocide. I do not ask forgiveness for all that I have done to your people, to your worlds, but if you will trust me when I say I have had enough... there may still be hope. We share the same goals. Let us work together to protect the innocent, starting with those children to whom you’ve devoted your final year.”
Margulis weighed the words she had just heard, trying to decide if she should believe them. She had to admit it was plausible. Hovering drones would explain the lack of audible footsteps. Radio static could explain the scratchy voice. And this person certainly spoke as if they had a Sentient perspective on the war...
“What have you got to lose?” the Sentient asked, echoing Margulis’s own thoughts. “Come with me. I can save your life, so that you can save theirs.”
“If you’re really one of them... why do you need me? You’re trashing top of the line warships right and left. Humans are powerless next to you. What could I possibly do that the Sentients couldn’t?”
“Destruction is easy. But salvation, and mercy… those are much more difficult. In this particular case, the children trust you but would attack me,” ze explained. “Besides, is it really too much to believe that you too could be an innocent life worth saving?” Now speaking from right in front of Margulis, the voice continued, “Reach out, touch proof of my identity. And please come to a decision soon; neither of us can stay here forever.”
Margulis did as she was instructed and slowly reached out one hand in front of her. Her fingers met with smooth metal and she gently traced over it, building a visual outline in her mind. A hollow central body, thick cylindrical club-arms... this was a conculyst. A type of drone commonly seen on every battlefield, spinning in circles to smash through flesh and metal alike.
“Don’t rush me now, I’ve still got four scenarios to think through. If you’re lying, and I don’t trust you, then nothing changes. I die, and they die. If you’re telling the truth, but I don’t trust you, then I die... the children shoot your well-meaning drones on sight, and then they die too. If I trust you but you’re lying, I die a little sooner, but probably no more horrifically than what’s already planned. But if I trust you, and you’re being truthful... I suppose there’s a chance we might not all die.” Margulis stood up, grinning like a madwoman. “Alright, let’s do it. What’s the plan?”
“Take this,” said the voice, and a large metal object was pressed into her hands. Margulis turned it over to examine it, feeling a round cavity framed by metal and padded on the inside, with some kind of inaccessible compartment a little off center on the top. “Place it on your head. No, the other way. The bulk of it should go in the back.”
Margulis dutifully placed the strange object on her head and felt around to see how it fit. It was reasonably comfortable, if a little heavy. The metal came down in front just over her eyes, leaving her nose and mouth free. “What’s this meant to do? It’s covering my ears so I’m not going to be able to hear very well through it.”
Apparently the device contained speakers, as the Sentient’s voice sounded directly into her ears. “This is a simple neural interface which will link your visual centers into my drone network, as well as a camera in the device itself. You will see again, Margulis. You will be able to see everything that I do. When you are ready, I will connect the device.”
The prospect of regaining her vision both excited and terrified Margulis. She had finally started to really adapt to life without it, to feel her path through the gilded corridors of Lua without losing her way. To suddenly have sight again... it felt like all that work had been for nothing. And to see through the eyes of a thousand robots scattered around the solar system? How could she possibly take it all in?
One question still nagged at the back of her mind. “You know, I never really considered this about the Sentients before, but... do you have a name? Since we’re going to be working together and all, I feel like I should have something to call you.”
For the first time the Sentient sounded hesitant. “My name is... it’s not, uh... it’s not really something I want to keep. It has associations for me and I no longer wish to be the person that it was given to. But I have no other... Would you call me Lotus? After the flower, as a symbol of survival through even the most trying times... or perhaps that should refer to both of us in our joint efforts?”
“Good enough for me! Okay, Lotus, do your thing. Hook me up.”
“Are you certain? I believe you may find it quite painful.”
“It can’t be that bad, right? Just do it before all your warnings make me change my mind.” Margulis paced back and forth, eager to get on with her new high crime against the Orokin empire.
She fell to her knees as a sudden jolt of pain came from both eyes. The searing pain intensified, and any conscious thoughts she had were blotted out and drowned beneath it. Margulis was distantly aware that a pair of hands were clutching her head, and there was a loud noise nearby, as if someone was screaming. Was she the one screaming? It was impossible to tell.
The pain winked out as suddenly as it had come. Margulis gasped for breath and ran through a mental grounding exercise. Check taste: nothing, no blood. Check smell: flowers, more flowers, too many flowers to distinguish. Check hearing: the irrigation systems, a heartbeat... a fast heartbeat. Check touch: hands on ground, knees on ground, weight on head. Check sight: not blank? Was that the ground in front of her? Were those her hands? She raised her head and the view shifted, as it should. Margulis slowly climbed to her feet again and took in the scene around her.
There were in fact four Sentient drones in her greenhouse, not one. Two conculysts, a battalyst capable of longer-range combat, and another of a slightly different design she didn’t recognize. She turned in a circle to take in the full view, and to see all the beautiful plants and flowers again that previously she had been content only to smell.
“How do you feel? Does it work?” asked the Sentient. “I’ve never actually tried a human interface before, only —”
“I think it works. Lotus, it works! I can see!” Margulis practically shouted. “Oh, I could hug you, if you weren’t... you know. That.” She waved a hand at the nearest hovering drone. “So what next? We go pick up the kids and fly away to live happily ever after?”
The four drones all clustered by the door. “Not quite. Getting you out of here has suddenly become much more urgent.”
Margulis’s face fell. “Oh, right, I was just screaming in pain a moment ago. Weird, I feel perfectly fine now.”
“You’ve alerted people in neighboring areas on all sides of this room, which means you must leave at once. I have a ship waiting to extract you to safety. Do you trust me, Margulis?”
“Kind of have to, don’t I? I’m in a bit deep to be turning back now. But yes, I do believe you’re here to help. The Sentients I see on the news would never be this nice to me.”
“Then let me guide you, and trust me when I say no innocent will be left behind. We will return for the Void-children.” The unfamiliar drone pushed the door open and sped away down the hallway outside, and Margulis realized it must be an oculyst, a spy-drone with no combat ability but enhanced perception. The other three drones split up and glided in different directions, but the Sentient’s voice could still be heard loud and clear without their presence. “The fighters will stay nearby but out of sight unless you get into trouble. For now, duck into the next room over to your right, quickly.”
Margulis stepped out of the greenhouse and pulled the door shut behind her. The guard who was supposed to be standing here was nowhere to be seen. She tiptoed over to the next door and pulled; the handle turned but it didn’t budge. The word “Quickly!” hissed into her ears and she gave the door a harder yank. This time it came open with a scrape, and Margulis jumped inside and pulled it mostly shut behind her, sealing herself inside the pitch-black room with only a sliver of light marking the door. This was a closet full of heavy and seldom-used agricultural equipment, not likely to be investigated – or so she hoped.
“Can you hear me?” she whispered to the air.
“Yes. The mask picks up your voice. A human is about to walk past this room. Slip out behind him and go around the corner ahead.”
Margulis waited for a shadow to pass in front of the cracked door then gently pushed it open, leaving it to swing as wide as the hinges would take it. She hurried around the corner to the right and stopped, waiting for more directions. Distant voices could be heard back the way she had come, as multiple people searching for the scream they’d heard encountered each other outside her laboratory. The place was cluttered enough to occupy a small group for a while, as they looked behind all the pots and shelves for a body that wasn’t there.
“You’re clear for a while now, I think. Not registering any human movement ahead. Move quickly, but don’t exhaust yourself. I will tell you which way to go at each intersection.”
Margulis walked like she was late to an important presentation: fast, but not too fast, and aiming for the familiar cadence and posture of a professional scientist rather than what she imagined an escaping prisoner ought to look like. Since nobody was around, she took the opportunity to talk quietly to the instrument on her head. “Are you sure this is the best way? It looks like I’m heading toward Executor Tuvul’s personal quarters. He’s one of the Seven, he’d recognize me.”
“Don’t worry, the one you speak of is… otherwise occupied… at the moment. It seems someone has stolen his private orbiter shuttle, and he’s rather upset with the people who let it fly off without him. Not that I’d know anything about how that happened, of course.”
“You did what? ”
“Well, you see, Sentient ships are not meant to have humans aboard. There’s no life support. Some of mine are being retrofitted as we speak, but most won’t be ready for a day or two. I’m rushing the work on one ship that we’ll get you to as soon as possible.”
“There’s still no reason to steal that particular ship! Couldn’t I have just gone to the commercial spaceport? It’s just civilians there, nobody would know who I am. I could blend in with the crowds.”
A low-quality recording of a human sigh played in Margulis’s ears. “Please try to remember that you are wearing Sentient technology on your head. Your current appearance is quite distinctive – but it looks good on you. A bold fashion statement for a fearless woman.”
Margulis was so shocked that she came to a dead stop. “What’s that supposed to mean? You gave this to me. It’s not like I just woke up this morning and decided to put it on.” She shook her head and continued walking.
“Watch out, sudden movement ahead. Looks like a –”
The warning came too late. Margulis rounded a corner and walked straight into a door that someone had just thrown open. Thinking fast, and remembering now that she was wearing Sentient technology on her head, she called out, “Is anyone there? Can you help me? They’ve done something to me.” She felt around the edges of the door, and grabbed the shirt of the concerned man standing behind it. Pretending she couldn’t see the man’s face through the metal over her eyes, she made a show of feeling his head.
“Oh, good, they haven’t got to you yet. I can hear their voices in my mind, telling me to kill people, but I’ve been resisting. I’m a prototype, they say, and soon the control devices will be smaller, so you can’t even see them. They’re going to destroy us from within!” Margulis could tell the poor man was terrified, but she had a tight grip on his arm and didn’t let go. She just had to stall as long as she could and hope the friendly Sentient could bail her out.
Sure enough, a conculyst zoomed into view from around a corner, coming to rest just behind the man. Margulis decided to give him one last dose of terror as the drone raised a single club. “I don’t know how long I can hold out. Go, save yourself! Anyone could be one of them!”
The club came down. Margulis released her grip and watched as the man crumpled to the floor. She took a moment to make sure he was still breathing, then picked him up by his ankles and dragged him back into his room, and shut him inside. “Thanks for the rescue,” she said.
“That was very clever of you,” came the reply. “I may have to implant a small radio transmitter above his spine before he wakes up. Not to actually do anything, just so he notices and spreads your idea. Come now, we’re almost to the ship.”
Margulis followed the conculyst through the endless golden passageways, only once having to hide from a pair of women who seemed far too focused on each other to notice anything out of the ordinary. Finally she came to an open courtyard and stepped out into the cool air.
“Here we are. The ship will arrive shortly, and then we can regroup, rest, have a nice chat over coffee, you can learn how the other ninety-nine percent of that thing works… and then the real work begins. Saving the solar system, one traumatized child at a time.”