Saxon talked a little bit more about Project Stargate, Operation Starseed,
and two other interrelated endeavors called Operation Anglo, and Operation
Soul Patch. Apparently, Projects are publicly known massive undertakings,
while Operations require a little more secrecy, and are often used to
support the projects. He evidently cloned himself millions of times, and
sent each one of them to a different section of an unfathomably huge ship,
which would break apart, and start exploring the galaxy. He was the OG
Saxon, however, and was able to exercise a little more independence
because of it. Following some research, before the Stargate ship was able
to break apart too much, he switched places with one of the random Anglo
clones, so that he would be stationed on this planet. According to early
synthetical readings, the world that would one day come to be known as
Orolak was rated at .982 on the Terrestrial Habitability Similarity Index.
A perfect score would have been 1, so this was pretty good.
Saga!Two and Vearden!Three did what they could to help Saxon with his
work. For most of the worlds that were being seeded with evolved
human-based life, the first generation would be raised by some form of
artificial intelligence, but either way, they couldn’t do it on their own.
The humans were responsible for maintaining the growth pods while the
Orothsew subjects were still in preliminary biological development. Once
they were born, they were then responsible for protecting them, and
teaching them how to live. They went over the basics: finding food,
eating, sleeping, not killing, etc. They didn’t teach them any math or
science. They didn’t tell stories of Earth, or explained how it is they
came to be. Hell, they didn’t even speak to them, because then the
Orothsew would learn English, and they were meant to form their own
language. It was only their job to make sure they survived long enough to
propagate the species. Once the first phase of their social development
was complete, so was the job.
To unwittingly mark the occasion, they open a door to get something to
eat, and all three find themselves transitioning to what they soon learn
to be a different point in time. Based on stellar drift, it’s almost
exactly two hundred years later. They had set up a little village for the
first generation of inhabitants several kilometers away from the facility
where they were grown, but that facility still existed, and it’s where the
humans were living once it was safe to leave the children alone for
extended periods of time. The place is still here, just as they left it,
but automated systems had buried it underneath a hill, so that it
perfectly blended in with the environment. Orothsew progress was still in
its infancy, so any exposure to advanced technology could disrupt their
continued social development. It’s not quite the Prime Directive from the
Star Trek franchise, though. If the powers that be transported all
of them to this moment in the future, then it’s obviously for a reason,
and that reason probably doesn’t involve too much passively observing from
a safe distance.
It does involve some observation, though. They look through the data the
facility has been keeping track of since they were gone. The population
rose at a predictable and steady rate until something terrible happened
eighty-three years ago. An infection spread through the village, and
though the villagers had the good sense to isolate all who were showing
symptoms of the disease, they didn’t consider quarantining asymptomatic
people who might have been exposed to the pathogen. All told, the
population took a hit of three hundred and fifty-eight people, but it
could have been so much worse. It could have spelled the end of the
species, and Saxon has been reluctant to answer what they would have done
in that situation. Though, to be fair, if that were to ever happen, the
PTB would probably step up, and send them in to stop it. Perhaps that’s
why they’re here now. Maybe there’s another disease coming, or some
natural disaster that the Orothsew are woefully unprepared for.
Saxon is still looking over the numbers, head in hand. “Five hundred and
ninety-one.”
“How many should there be?” Saga!Two asks.
He shakes his head. “Around fifteen hundred. More.”
“This happens,” Vearden!Three assures him. “Humans went through a lot more
than this, because they didn’t have us.”
“Yes, they did,” Saxon says.
“What?”
“Huh?” Saxon has gotten lost in his thoughts.
“What do you mean, humans had us?” Saga!Two questions.
“Oh, sorry. Well, I should be clear; they’re a theory. There are some
inexplicable anomalies when we look back at the hominid population
hundreds of thousands of years ago. Our ancestors survived some things
they probably shouldn’t have. These disasters were just shy of being
enough to wipe out the species entirely. Humans from what’s considered to
be the very first timeline ever supposedly went back in time and saved
their own ancestors, thus propelling us towards a more stable population
growth rate. If this is true, it’s before the powers that be or The
Gallery existed, and the changes they made were so dramatic that not even
one individual was born in that timeline, and also in any other since.”
“So, there’s no proof any of this is true,” Vearden!Three says.
Saxon goes back to looking at the data. “No, but there’s strong evidence.”
“You’re human,” Saga!Three says in a non sequitur.
Saxon stops dwelling for a moment again. “Yes, why?”
“Why do you know so much about us? Who taught you all this?”
He chuckles. “You people spend a lot of time talking to each other to get
information. Word of mouth is full of errors, lies, and truths lost in
translation. I’ve heard so many contradictory claims about who the
powers that be are, and what they have to do with the
choosing ones. There’s a whole library out there that’s maintained
by The Historian. I got access to it, and I did what I do best; I studied
my ass off. I’m not saying there are no inaccuracies or biases in those
books, but they’re at least based on research. You should be careful when
someone tries to tell you what’s going on. They may not be right.”
“Thanks, professor,” Vearden!Three snarks. “I’ll remember that the next
time I travel to one of the dozens of other universes I’ve gone to.” It’s
true that, after traveling all over the bulkverse in The Crossover, he has
a few experiences Saxon could never begin to understand, but that doesn’t
mean there aren’t things he could learn from the legit astronaut. His
advice certainly isn’t unreasonable.
“Vearden,” Saga!Three scolds.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Saxon sighs and moves on. “Well, the disease is over. It ran its course
decades ago. I’m looking at atmospheric and seismic readings; I don’t see
anything else that gives you a clue what you’re back here to accomplish.”
“What would you be doing if you hadn’t jumped forward two hundred years?”
Saga!Three poses. “That is, what would you have been doing for the last
couple centuries?”
“I dunno,” Saxon answers, “but I wouldn’t still be here.”
“Oh, no?”
“No, I would have left after the last member of the first generation died,
which they already have. Once no one was left alive who was grown in a
pod, it would have been up to the remainders to sustain their population
unaided. If you do have a job to do here, I’m not sure I should even help
you. I didn’t, like, sign an oath, or anything, but I wasn’t meant to
stick around forever.”
“So our door cut you off from your job?” Vearden!Three laments.
“I should clarify,” Saxon begins. “Vonearthan intervention ends after the
first generation in most cases, including this one. It didn’t have to be
me. As soon as I disappeared, automated systems took over.”
“That’s comforting,” Vearden!Three says with an extended nod. “It doesn’t
tell us why it is we’re here now, though.”
As if there were a correlation between his words, and what was happening
in one of the now several Orothsew villages, an alarm goes off. A live
feed from a microdrone disguised as an insect comes up on the main screen.
Since none of them speaks the Orothsew language, subtitles appear as well.
Two males are fighting in the middle of a crowd. They’re not at full
fisticuffs yet, but their argument is as heated as it is petty. It’s over
the hand of a mate. One of them will push the other, or knock his hands
out of the way. Waggling fingers and rude hand gestures; this is getting
bad. But it apparently can’t go further in the here and now. The Orothsew
have rules. The duel is scheduled for tomorrow, at high noon. The three
humans aren’t sure what a duel in their culture involves, because they
don’t mention details during the fight, but one thing the monitoring
systems know is that they haven’t invented guns yet, so that’s something.
“We have to stop it,” Saga!Two declares.
“We can’t,” Saxon contends. “We can’t go out there like this. Back when we
were teaching the wee babies how to survive, looking human was fine. They
didn’t pass that information down to their own children, because they
didn’t yet understand. Even if they describe us generations from now, no
one will believe in ancient astronauts, just like people on Earth never
did. But they’re already developed enough to record quasi-accurate history
akin to the Bible. We can’t show our human faces; we just can’t.”
“I can help with that.” A woman walks in from the other room. A human
woman. The three of them take a quick glance at each other, but their
facial expressions do not suggest that anyone already knows who she is. She
tries to shake their hands, but they’re reluctant. “It’s a good thing I’m
not easily offended. If my visage makes you nervous, I can always take a
form you are more comfortable with.” With no more warning, she suddenly
transforms to look exactly like Leona Matic.
“Who are you?” Vearden!Two asks. He’s never met Leona before.
“My name is Alyssa McIver. I’m an illusionist. I can make you see whatever
I want you to see...as long as what I want you to see exists at some point
in spacetime. I can’t conjure imaginary visions; just superimpose real
ones.”
“Could you, then. Umm...?” Saxon was uncomfortable. “Could you go back to
your real face?”
She does as she’s asked. “I can help you blend in with the natives. I’ve
done it a million times.That was my job almost a thousand years ago on the
AOC.”
Now Saxon is interested, and more receptive. “So it’s true; the source
variant theory. This is going to keep happening on other worlds.”
“It already has,” Alyssa confirms. “Source variants are fabricating aliens
where there would not be aliens naturally. What you’re doing here;
infiltrating the natives, and secretly helping to fix their problems?
That’s what I and my crew did in the third millennium.”
“What year is it right now?” Vearden!Three asks her.
“Nine-two-seven,” Alyssa replies.
“What? No, I mean by the Earthan calendar.”
“Oh, you mean the old calendar. Three-five-two-seven.”
This freaks him out. “Why do they restart the calendar? Does the world
end?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Alyssa says dismissively. “Do you like hats?”
“Alyssa,” Vearden!Three presses. “Does the world end?”
“I’ve taken the liberty of guessing what kind of hats you’ll be more
comfortable with.” She removes three hats from her bag, each of a
different design. One is a snowcap, the other a driving cap, and the third
is something none of them knows enough about hats to designate. “No one
will see the hat, of course. It will just make you look like a, uh...”
“Orothsew,” Saxon helps.
“Orothsew,” she echoes. “Yes. When I was on the AOC, I would just maintain
the illusions myself, but I’m not sticking around here, so Holly Blue
imbued these with my powers.”
They take the hats graciously.
“I do have some more questions,” Vearden!Three says.
“Cool. I gotta go, though. Bye!” She may teleport away at that point, or
she just makes herself invisible. Either way, she’s gone.
They’ll probably never know what prompted her to come to the future to
help them, but they’re grateful. Now it’s time to go stop that duel. They
don’t realize until later how absolutely vital it was that they stop it.
Either of their deaths would have caused catastrophic problems later on.
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