OsakanOne
Retired Member
Crimson Kestrel, Cargo Bay, Seiren's workshop
26 hours before Mission 4
Rebeka sat in Seiren's place of work in low light, the little one asleep in the far corner of the room wrapped in blankets up against a container. She sat with a high powered desk lamp, burning heat over metal components. She scrubbed something, holding it up to the light as her hand worked back and forth over the metal with fabric at an even pace that would make a humanoid's arm ache. No sound of breath.
Without turning or looking, her voice picked up through the dusty dark air. Cold. Neutral.
"Hello, Tamamo."
Jade eyes blinked in the half light just outside the entrance to Seiren's enclosure the small Nekovalkyrja straightened before padding a little closer to the tall form that she knew only as the Rebeka. Uncertain what exactly to say eventually she responded,
"Hello Rebeka."
♫ Aivi & Surasshu - Overgrown Brambles
Suspended and distended across Seiren's work-bench were the components of what looked to be her hand-cannon or some other weapon: It was hard to tell. Each was arranged perfectly like some blow apart diagram, each angled and positioned perfectly. The interior of the chrome-like polished barrel was scorched bright blues, reds and purples like the exhaust piping of a motor-cycle, visibly warped. She took the component, locking it carefully in a vice, then took some sort of hand-tool: whirring and then sparks. Ten seconds or so of this later, she examined the red hot metal: blowing oils carefully away from the warm pinkish red as it turned white once more and resumed polishing.
It was now that Tamamo noticed something strange: She only wore her environmental suit from the waist down. Her shoulders were bare, as was her back. Gleaming in the low light like a brilliant moon glazed with dolphin-shine sweat. An oddly florecent quality, nearly glow in the dark. Then Tamamo saw: a black lamp above. Rebeka had them setup through the room, saturating it in a faint blueish hue human eyes wouldn't be able to see.
She did not respond, though she did give Tamamo quiet enough to speak.
The air was very warm.
Questions cycled through Tamamo's mind though they were answered easily enough through observation. Current task; weapon maintenance. Status; more relaxed than usual. Seiren; Nearby. Everything lined up neatly eventually the question that came to mind was not one that she would have expected given the unknowns surrounding Rebeka, however she felt it was the most fitting.
"Are you feeling well?"
"Is that a real question?" Rebeka replied.
"Yes. I want to know if you are content, and of the opinion that you are healthy physically and mentally."
"Will you be passing this information on to the others?"
"Do you want me to?"
"No. But at the same time, I have no assurance that you won't."
"This is true... I find myself at a loss as to how I could provide assurence that I won't. I don't know what would satisfy you."
"I see."
More silence. The clunk of something being moved across the table. More polishing. It was almost passive aggressive but thus far, she'd never demonstrated any aggression that wasn't violence.
Tamamo's silence, though patient was hardly idle. Her mind worked away at the problem of convincing someone unlike herself, or those that she interacted with of her sincerity. Upon further consideration she realized that her initial question had been rather clinical. Something she had intended to avoid. Eventually she settled on a new line of conversation,
"Is there anything you would like to ask me?"
"No" was the simple answer. The humming of the atmospheric systems of the ship in these conditions was almost deafening in a quiet way. The only sound. a mile wide. The room felt huge for some reason. It took Tamamo a moment to notice the paint Seiren had applied was anechoic, that it absorbed sound. That nothing reverberated or echoed. Even electrical signals were quite dim in here.
"Do you need me to?"
Shaking her head to the negative Tamamo voiced after a moment, "I have no true need for any answers or questions. I merely wanted to offer the opportunity to learn should you desired. There is much I don't know and wish to know, I assume others are similar."
"That much is certain."
She put the metal to the grinder again, fletching out markings in its form. Slowly over time, Tamamo could make out a faint line in the metal as she stripped the coloring out: a sinewave like a Yamataian katana down the inside as she brought another tool about the size of a soldering iron over with a long thick cable connecting to a large box, printed with "caledfwlch" and covered in every kind of warning logo and safety logo imaginable. A plug extended from her elbow, locking into a port on the workbench as she moved into place, steadying her as a truss or tripod, usually meant for precision tools. Then a thick bank of switches, the thing spooling into noise, becoming louder.
And then unclipping part of her suit: The faceplate with its tapered Y shaped seam in automotive line over her face like a welding mask.
More sparks. This time, layering ontop of the cuts she'd made. The room became much warmer for the device: rebeka's hand holding it purely skeletal driven by mechanical joints as her skin crept up her arm like slugs escaping drying rain off into the grass.
The light was blinding, noise on the edge of Tamamo's ears, resonating through her skull before it went silent, only the UV lamps showing as conventional light was invisible as the Nekovalkyjra's eyes adjusted. Had Seiren seen this, his retina would probably be destroyed... The blindfold she'd given him now making some sense.
Alpha, even beta radiation was soaked up by the walls and even brief gamma, devoured by the special materials of the workbench. It all fell off sharply as she switched the device off.
Like a fresh coat of metal. Again, those seams, like a katana down the inside of her barrel.
New information, new answers, none of which truly satisfied. She learned about how Rebeka was constructed and what she valued. A care for her work that few craftsmen displayed. Carefully forming a finished product that could be truly relied upon. All of this was largely irrelevant, and Tamamo noted that this gave her a small ammount of insight into what she truly wanted. An odd thing to realize as she was irradiated, and forced to adapt to avoid going blind. Still she supposed she may as well ask,
"Most people want to know what you are... Based on your responses anyway. Do you often meet someone who wants to know more about who you are?"
"I've been studied by a hundred thirty seven people" Rebeka replied. Not more emotive but focused. Now able to put more effort into speaking and her choice of tones. More human-like. The words "if that's what you're asking" could have easily hung on the end of her sentence.
"I don't want to study you. I want to know you the way a friend knows a friend. Someone to talk to. I don't want to pry into what you are, or what you can do. That isn't important. I want to know who you are, what your opinions are. I want to be able to share experiences and thoughts with you." The reply had come almost instantly on the tail of what Rebeka had said, little thought had needed to go into it.
The blue Nekovalkyrja considered what she had said for a moment before adding, "I want to see if you're like me, and if you aren't I want to learn how to bridge the gap... I want to know who you are, not what you are, or what you know."
"Huh". Rebeka seemed genuinely surprised. She hadn't anticipated this.
Slowly, set the heavy barrel down with a clunk, the thing weighing about the same as a brick and turned about on her stool. Her neck was slender. Long. Shoulders wide but sloping downwards. As Tamamo's vision continued to travel down (all in the name of assimilating new information alone), she noted Rebeka's lack of anything resembling nipples and the great time and attention she'd taken to fabricating the form of her bust: the two facts strange opposites. Her suit was tied about her waist beneath a lack of anything resembling a belly-button, arms crossed over, gloved fingertips hanging between wide knees that imitated a stance she'd seen amongst Nepleslians and Lorath alike. She leaned back, bare white elbows to the workbench as she let her posture relax, skin creeping back to cover her hand at her side, swallowing up her synthetic endoskeleton. Even sat, she was so much taller than Tamamo, turning what was a massive and very tall chair for Seiren into a glorified footstool.
She waited to see what else Tamamo had to say. It was almost like a job interview. At some point, Rebeka had learned that letting other people talk gave her control.
Noting that she had caught Rebeka's attention Tamamo found that she wasn't entirely sure what to do with it now. Slowly her head listed to the left as she thought, eventually she managed to voice, "I initially asked how you were because I wanted to know if you were happy. I didn't ask seeking to know your status. If you weren't happy I would have inquired as to what could fix that."
There was a pause as the small girl realized the absurdity of her attempting to bridge a social gap given her generally inept nature. Still she wasn't about to give up.
There was a gap between the two. Like watching a computer process a long spoken instruction, waiting to see if it had decyphered it before Rebeka gave a very slight affirmative nod, sussing that Tamamo needed more cues than she was getting, in much the way Seiren did sometimes. That when others spoke, they did not have confidence that they were understood and they made this to be their fault or that of the person listening. And that which different people chose spoke volumes she'd never hear, only know.
The Neko continued eventualy, "When you mentioned conveying the information to the others I started to understand that it was a question that you had probably heard often without any sort of actual care for what you felt. More--
"A platitude" Rebeka interrupted. Maybe she was overdoing it with the feedback now, something that took her a moment to realise.
"So a raw data request- You didn't like it. So I stopped and tried offering the opportunity to instead ask questions without any sort of price."
"I see."
More dead air. Slowly, Rebeka adjusted her posture some, leaning further backward: arms tensing as if scratching an itch in her back with hands Tamamo couldn't see. She wasn't going to carry the conversation. Even so, Rebeka appeared to be very patient, waiting for what would come next. Tamamo needed to be explicit.
Too much, there were too many thoughts, so many of which were contradictory passing through Tamamo's mind in a flurry. Another in her place would have looked drained, or stressed, however for her didn't break the surface. So much to consider, forging new ground in more ways than she could readily deal with.
Eventually she admitted, "I'm not very good at interacting with others. I wanted to try to talk to you, in order to satisfy a desire to converse for mutual benefit. Even if that benefit is merely enjoying a conversation. However, if you're not interested I will respect that."
"What are your percieved inadequacies?" she said. Calm. Confident. Removed, but not aloof.
"Inability to understand social conventions, what I am, mental health, lack of knowledge, lack of experience, lack of resources." The answers came easy for Tamamo.
"So your survival, then."
"My present survival is in my opinion largely artificial."
"Have you noticed that beyond what you call the known space, that there is nothing else?"
"Are you referring to settled stars? Or are you instead referring to what some people claim as life after death?"
"Beyond known space, the density of stars drops dramatically. Possible signals and signs through telescopes of other civilizations is non-existant."
"Within what radius of space? How many light years?" The statement didn't add up with what she knew about local stellar features.
"Approximately two hundred eighty billion lightyears."
That... Was a lot bigger than what most people called "known space". This was knowledge nobody alive that Tamamo could ever travel to shake hands with for whatever possible duration of her existance could ever know of.
But Rebeka stared back. Calm. She wasn't lying. Could she even lie?
This statement caused Tamamo's head to switch sides going from her left to her right as her mind shifted from interest to confusion. Eventually a single response was voiced, "No records I have access to look that far out."
"It exceeds what is described as the observable universe."
"It seems logical that we wouldn't know of anything outside of what we can see... You seem to know something that I don't." Blinking once slowly she continued, "Should there be something outside of what we can see that isn't there?"
"Given that cosmological inflation is currently occuring at thirty billion lightyears a second, yes. There should lots."
"What do you propose happened to this missing mass?" It was clear Tamamo wasn't convinced of the relevance.
"The mass isn't missing. Only signs of communication. Of statistically artificial events."
"You can't find others like you."
"Like any of us. I think it is the highest probable indicator that there is a way of travelling exponentially faster than we currently do."
"So rather than the absence suggesting a void, it suggests either alternative technical mastery that allows different travel."
"That everybody else knows it and we have yet to discover it." Rebeka said. "I think it would be a poor decision for us to do so."
"Why?"
"Such a radiance of energy is detectable hypothetically with the proper equipment. Given the potential energies involved, anyone capable of this movement is capable of destroying us."
"That assumes that whatever posses this technology adheres to locally common ideology and behaviour."
"False, it assumes that they were cultivated in an environment of survival of the fittest, rather than one of mutual cooperation. To have achieved this level, survival is likely their major priority."
Rebeka began reaching for the parts, beginning with the barrel and reciever. Hands crisply slotting and locking parts together. Rather strangely, it appeared she had a second smaller hand in her skeleton, conventionally sized in her palm: fingers reaching into slots and then whirs common to pnumatic drills. Her eyes were calm. Solumn, almost. A factory robot with a face.
"The ultimate rule of survival is to do to the other what they would do to you, but to be the first to do it, correct?"
"Theoretically... There are some caveats that get in the way of it working so cut and clear. Working purely off of that example a social species is impossible. Solo predators are only capable of progressing so far. Eventually they hit a dead end due to lack of innovation due to reaching an apex and stagnate, or they are killed off by more numerous creatures working together."
Rebeka paused to hear Tamamo speak, giving her clear air for her voice to move through the echoless room unimpeeded.
"Compiling everything with certainty known about possible remote civilizations without meeting them, only three simple laws can be concluded."
"These are?"
"First, their survival will be more important to them than our survival. If they have to choose between us and them, they won't choose us. I cannot imagine a case to the contrary: No species survives by being self-sacrificing or truly altruistic.. The statistical likelihood that they would be destroyed grows exponentially and that to survive while being altruistic in this case means assimilating to a dominant culture which adheres to this rule."
"An alternative might be apathy. They might have developed in such a way as to not need to fight for survival."
"If others need to fight for survival, to choose to not defend one's self is to cease surviving."
More silence.
Unable to continue the line of thought Tamamo eventually prompted, "Law two?"
"Any species which survives to the scale to develop this technology has had to compete for survival. The dominant species will have features which aid their dominance. Intelligence, awareness, potential aggression and ruthlessness where nessesary as well as a mastery of their environment and tools to exercise their will."
Tamamo nodded before prompting again, "And law three?"
"They will assume the previous two laws apply to us in advance of contact."
"So you propose halting advancement to avoid being detected and wiped out by an older civilization?"
"You seem incongruous with my point. Skeptical."
"I am. By your rules ceasing in development would also be equivallent to ceasing to survive. The stagnation imposed by avoiding accidentally being detected would be no different than death."
"Let me then continue to expand on my point. Any weapon created by this civilization will have a weapon the exact motion and position of which can never be determined. Their technological advantage over us means we would have no hope to intercept such weapons. Do you agree with this statement?"
"According to the rules so far dictated by this this line of thought, indicate that would likely be true. This however leads to a scenario where progress leads to death, and avoiding progress leads to death."
"I am told within the manual for this weapon" she said still assembling it "that the Nepleslian arms and munitions company that Melchior Vel Steyr once said "God made some men stronger than others, but Mr. Gun made all men equal". Variations of these weapons are used throughout all of known space. Even in a society that posesses positron reactive weapons and aetheric technologies. No matter how advanced our civilization becomes, these weapons are likely never to go away because we feel unsafe."
More parts coming together now. Snapping. Locking. Screwing.
"No matter... How small the possibility of an existential threat at any point, a weapon is assurance. Would you walk the streets of Nepleslia alone, unprotected, unarmed, unable to defend yourself with none of your natural advantages and no means of preserving yourself?"
Having listened quietly to Rebeka's latest statements Tamamo found the answer easy enough, "No. I wouldn't even walk through the halls of this ship defenceless as that. Every aspect of my self demands not only that I have that minimal protection, but that I actively seek the means to improve."
"It would be nice to talk to someone friendly in that environment though, wouldn't it?"
"It would, even if only for a short time."
"But you know the street is dangerous. There are muggings. Homocides. Accidents. The removal of potential witnesses of illegal actions. It is not easy to tell the 'good guys' from the 'bad guys'."
Rebeka was now loading more complicated components. This next part was strange. Like the bastard child of a macuhuitl and a chainsaw but all stationary components. Pulling the bottom half, the parallel fingers slid into the body, hidden away: Antennae. Slung where the sight on her rifle would be, she then continued with a wedge shaped component beneath containing some sort of optics.: twisting to bring it alongside the weapon level with the barrel, then back beneath. She fed cabling between the two after prizing the housing off each, sealing and clamping elements together.
It didn't resemble anything Tamamo was familiar with. Where had she learned this?
And then she continued.
"Everybody is presented the same way. The weapons are concealed. The only difference between either is intent. And you are unable to read minds. Do you agree?"
"I do..." She trailed off even though she had hardly begun to speak. There was something to the words beyond the obvious, she doubted that Rebeka had given her a lecture on the nature of survival and warfare just because it amused her.
"Stood in the night of funkycity you will inevitably hear at some point if you are observant, the distress of others. Blunt impacts. Collisions. Weapons-fire. Screaming. How do you survive the night, Tamamo?"
Was that rhetorical? The way Rebeka watched, eyes fixed said she didn't want a response. And then she continued. Still assembling. Loading her designer barrel into the reciever, like a rod into a rail-gun at an angle, clasping and locking. It was clear from the design that the barrel was designed to be exchanged at some point, even with some sort of ejector mechanism on the outer panelling.
And the way she held it. Huge for Tamamo. But for Rebeka, with so much of it both behind and infront of her, a conventional rifle's front glued to the face of a bullpup.
"You do not shout 'I'm here!', correct?"
"Correct." The acknowledgement of the point felt flat even as she spoke it more wanted to flow forth, however for the moment she kept it shackled. It wasn't the time to be opinionated.
Rebeka slammed a magazine into a slot in the back of the weapon: a thick round drum. And then another, some sort of liquid into the front.
"The very last thing you do is reply to someone who shouts to you 'I'm a friend', correct?"
Her words were punctuated with the crisp loud slam of metal as she pulled the primer handle, loading a round into the reciever. Eyes skimming the thing saw no safety. It was live. Remembering how clinically Rebeka erased six people from existance with a smaller weapon left images in Tamamo's mind. Rebeka hadn't stepped out of harm's way: Just placed herself out there as bait. And waited.
♫ Aivi & Surasshu - Strawberry Battlefield
She laughed, that it was an odd response given her circumstances didn't occur to the short woman, however slowly as the mirth escaped and she slowly recovered she eventually realized what it the core of the 'lesson' had been.
The barrel came down. Squared on the Nekovalkyjra, the butt of the thing against the desk behind her shoulder. Tamamo didn't flinch, nor did she look at the weapon, eyes instead watching Rebeka. She seemed to have hardly noticed the weapon that had been placed in her face.
"Do you agree with this statement?"
"Yes and no."
"Elaborate."
"Were I in the heart of Nepleslia, the smog choked streets of Funky City and I were approached with the offer of friendship. I would be skeptical. I lack the means to know whether or not that individual is baiting me out. On the other hand, were I in a quiet place, a place that I feel comfortable and a figure approached that I could tell was not capable of threatening me... I might listen."
"In this analogy, there is nobody who is not capable of threatening you. When you join the company of another, you are both asked. They may also betray you. This phenomenon continues until you are attacked. There is no means of judging character, only the presence of potential harm. You will eventually meet so many friends as for you all to be betrayed"
"Your point has been made. Now the choice is in your hands. Either you kill me now. Or I leave to never return." Tamamo shrugged slightly, "Either is fine."
"Hypothetically, I have not killed you. Someone eventually will. Do you agree that the safest option, disregarding everything but survival alone is to avoid being heard or seen by anyone until morning?"
"If I am to agree that the only goal is safety, and survival. Then I should not exist to be here at this time."
"To not be here is to cease to exist."
"Had I chosen the safest route I would have ceased to exist."
Rebeka set the weapon down after finally regarding it.
"Funky City is a much safer place than the universe. The universe has no policemen. There is no exit. And the night never ends."
"You misunderstand." There was no elaboration, merely the short statement.
It took Rebeka a moment to grasp what Tamamo actually meant by this. She'd seen this sentiment in those around her before but only in small dosages.
The answer to Tamamo's first question was staring Rebeka in the face. Right infront of her, waiting for her response. But it didn't need to be said. What Tamamo needed to know is why.
Though Rebeka's vision encompassed everything in every direction, she made an effort to refuse to bring Tamamo into focus. There was no eye-contact. Only, finally, words.
A long pause. She eyed Seiren, then the sign hung over the doorway. She couldn't read it, only make out its shapes. He'd said they were important for some reason. That they had meaning and he'd told her it before.
There is no place like home.
More thoughts. They took so long to make. She even signalled with her face the process: Brows closer together. Eyes moving. Her way of saying she wanted Tamamo to wait without asking. Something she never did of her own accord, let alone authentically for almost any reason.
The first time in ten years.
"We did cease to exist."
26 hours before Mission 4
Rebeka sat in Seiren's place of work in low light, the little one asleep in the far corner of the room wrapped in blankets up against a container. She sat with a high powered desk lamp, burning heat over metal components. She scrubbed something, holding it up to the light as her hand worked back and forth over the metal with fabric at an even pace that would make a humanoid's arm ache. No sound of breath.
Without turning or looking, her voice picked up through the dusty dark air. Cold. Neutral.
"Hello, Tamamo."
Jade eyes blinked in the half light just outside the entrance to Seiren's enclosure the small Nekovalkyrja straightened before padding a little closer to the tall form that she knew only as the Rebeka. Uncertain what exactly to say eventually she responded,
"Hello Rebeka."
♫ Aivi & Surasshu - Overgrown Brambles
Suspended and distended across Seiren's work-bench were the components of what looked to be her hand-cannon or some other weapon: It was hard to tell. Each was arranged perfectly like some blow apart diagram, each angled and positioned perfectly. The interior of the chrome-like polished barrel was scorched bright blues, reds and purples like the exhaust piping of a motor-cycle, visibly warped. She took the component, locking it carefully in a vice, then took some sort of hand-tool: whirring and then sparks. Ten seconds or so of this later, she examined the red hot metal: blowing oils carefully away from the warm pinkish red as it turned white once more and resumed polishing.
It was now that Tamamo noticed something strange: She only wore her environmental suit from the waist down. Her shoulders were bare, as was her back. Gleaming in the low light like a brilliant moon glazed with dolphin-shine sweat. An oddly florecent quality, nearly glow in the dark. Then Tamamo saw: a black lamp above. Rebeka had them setup through the room, saturating it in a faint blueish hue human eyes wouldn't be able to see.
She did not respond, though she did give Tamamo quiet enough to speak.
The air was very warm.
Questions cycled through Tamamo's mind though they were answered easily enough through observation. Current task; weapon maintenance. Status; more relaxed than usual. Seiren; Nearby. Everything lined up neatly eventually the question that came to mind was not one that she would have expected given the unknowns surrounding Rebeka, however she felt it was the most fitting.
"Are you feeling well?"
"Is that a real question?" Rebeka replied.
"Yes. I want to know if you are content, and of the opinion that you are healthy physically and mentally."
"Will you be passing this information on to the others?"
"Do you want me to?"
"No. But at the same time, I have no assurance that you won't."
"This is true... I find myself at a loss as to how I could provide assurence that I won't. I don't know what would satisfy you."
"I see."
More silence. The clunk of something being moved across the table. More polishing. It was almost passive aggressive but thus far, she'd never demonstrated any aggression that wasn't violence.
Tamamo's silence, though patient was hardly idle. Her mind worked away at the problem of convincing someone unlike herself, or those that she interacted with of her sincerity. Upon further consideration she realized that her initial question had been rather clinical. Something she had intended to avoid. Eventually she settled on a new line of conversation,
"Is there anything you would like to ask me?"
"No" was the simple answer. The humming of the atmospheric systems of the ship in these conditions was almost deafening in a quiet way. The only sound. a mile wide. The room felt huge for some reason. It took Tamamo a moment to notice the paint Seiren had applied was anechoic, that it absorbed sound. That nothing reverberated or echoed. Even electrical signals were quite dim in here.
"Do you need me to?"
Shaking her head to the negative Tamamo voiced after a moment, "I have no true need for any answers or questions. I merely wanted to offer the opportunity to learn should you desired. There is much I don't know and wish to know, I assume others are similar."
"That much is certain."
She put the metal to the grinder again, fletching out markings in its form. Slowly over time, Tamamo could make out a faint line in the metal as she stripped the coloring out: a sinewave like a Yamataian katana down the inside as she brought another tool about the size of a soldering iron over with a long thick cable connecting to a large box, printed with "caledfwlch" and covered in every kind of warning logo and safety logo imaginable. A plug extended from her elbow, locking into a port on the workbench as she moved into place, steadying her as a truss or tripod, usually meant for precision tools. Then a thick bank of switches, the thing spooling into noise, becoming louder.
And then unclipping part of her suit: The faceplate with its tapered Y shaped seam in automotive line over her face like a welding mask.
More sparks. This time, layering ontop of the cuts she'd made. The room became much warmer for the device: rebeka's hand holding it purely skeletal driven by mechanical joints as her skin crept up her arm like slugs escaping drying rain off into the grass.
The light was blinding, noise on the edge of Tamamo's ears, resonating through her skull before it went silent, only the UV lamps showing as conventional light was invisible as the Nekovalkyjra's eyes adjusted. Had Seiren seen this, his retina would probably be destroyed... The blindfold she'd given him now making some sense.
Alpha, even beta radiation was soaked up by the walls and even brief gamma, devoured by the special materials of the workbench. It all fell off sharply as she switched the device off.
Like a fresh coat of metal. Again, those seams, like a katana down the inside of her barrel.
New information, new answers, none of which truly satisfied. She learned about how Rebeka was constructed and what she valued. A care for her work that few craftsmen displayed. Carefully forming a finished product that could be truly relied upon. All of this was largely irrelevant, and Tamamo noted that this gave her a small ammount of insight into what she truly wanted. An odd thing to realize as she was irradiated, and forced to adapt to avoid going blind. Still she supposed she may as well ask,
"Most people want to know what you are... Based on your responses anyway. Do you often meet someone who wants to know more about who you are?"
"I've been studied by a hundred thirty seven people" Rebeka replied. Not more emotive but focused. Now able to put more effort into speaking and her choice of tones. More human-like. The words "if that's what you're asking" could have easily hung on the end of her sentence.
"I don't want to study you. I want to know you the way a friend knows a friend. Someone to talk to. I don't want to pry into what you are, or what you can do. That isn't important. I want to know who you are, what your opinions are. I want to be able to share experiences and thoughts with you." The reply had come almost instantly on the tail of what Rebeka had said, little thought had needed to go into it.
The blue Nekovalkyrja considered what she had said for a moment before adding, "I want to see if you're like me, and if you aren't I want to learn how to bridge the gap... I want to know who you are, not what you are, or what you know."
"Huh". Rebeka seemed genuinely surprised. She hadn't anticipated this.
Slowly, set the heavy barrel down with a clunk, the thing weighing about the same as a brick and turned about on her stool. Her neck was slender. Long. Shoulders wide but sloping downwards. As Tamamo's vision continued to travel down (all in the name of assimilating new information alone), she noted Rebeka's lack of anything resembling nipples and the great time and attention she'd taken to fabricating the form of her bust: the two facts strange opposites. Her suit was tied about her waist beneath a lack of anything resembling a belly-button, arms crossed over, gloved fingertips hanging between wide knees that imitated a stance she'd seen amongst Nepleslians and Lorath alike. She leaned back, bare white elbows to the workbench as she let her posture relax, skin creeping back to cover her hand at her side, swallowing up her synthetic endoskeleton. Even sat, she was so much taller than Tamamo, turning what was a massive and very tall chair for Seiren into a glorified footstool.
She waited to see what else Tamamo had to say. It was almost like a job interview. At some point, Rebeka had learned that letting other people talk gave her control.
Noting that she had caught Rebeka's attention Tamamo found that she wasn't entirely sure what to do with it now. Slowly her head listed to the left as she thought, eventually she managed to voice, "I initially asked how you were because I wanted to know if you were happy. I didn't ask seeking to know your status. If you weren't happy I would have inquired as to what could fix that."
There was a pause as the small girl realized the absurdity of her attempting to bridge a social gap given her generally inept nature. Still she wasn't about to give up.
There was a gap between the two. Like watching a computer process a long spoken instruction, waiting to see if it had decyphered it before Rebeka gave a very slight affirmative nod, sussing that Tamamo needed more cues than she was getting, in much the way Seiren did sometimes. That when others spoke, they did not have confidence that they were understood and they made this to be their fault or that of the person listening. And that which different people chose spoke volumes she'd never hear, only know.
The Neko continued eventualy, "When you mentioned conveying the information to the others I started to understand that it was a question that you had probably heard often without any sort of actual care for what you felt. More--
"A platitude" Rebeka interrupted. Maybe she was overdoing it with the feedback now, something that took her a moment to realise.
"So a raw data request- You didn't like it. So I stopped and tried offering the opportunity to instead ask questions without any sort of price."
"I see."
More dead air. Slowly, Rebeka adjusted her posture some, leaning further backward: arms tensing as if scratching an itch in her back with hands Tamamo couldn't see. She wasn't going to carry the conversation. Even so, Rebeka appeared to be very patient, waiting for what would come next. Tamamo needed to be explicit.
Too much, there were too many thoughts, so many of which were contradictory passing through Tamamo's mind in a flurry. Another in her place would have looked drained, or stressed, however for her didn't break the surface. So much to consider, forging new ground in more ways than she could readily deal with.
Eventually she admitted, "I'm not very good at interacting with others. I wanted to try to talk to you, in order to satisfy a desire to converse for mutual benefit. Even if that benefit is merely enjoying a conversation. However, if you're not interested I will respect that."
"What are your percieved inadequacies?" she said. Calm. Confident. Removed, but not aloof.
"Inability to understand social conventions, what I am, mental health, lack of knowledge, lack of experience, lack of resources." The answers came easy for Tamamo.
"So your survival, then."
"My present survival is in my opinion largely artificial."
"Have you noticed that beyond what you call the known space, that there is nothing else?"
"Are you referring to settled stars? Or are you instead referring to what some people claim as life after death?"
"Beyond known space, the density of stars drops dramatically. Possible signals and signs through telescopes of other civilizations is non-existant."
"Within what radius of space? How many light years?" The statement didn't add up with what she knew about local stellar features.
"Approximately two hundred eighty billion lightyears."
That... Was a lot bigger than what most people called "known space". This was knowledge nobody alive that Tamamo could ever travel to shake hands with for whatever possible duration of her existance could ever know of.
But Rebeka stared back. Calm. She wasn't lying. Could she even lie?
This statement caused Tamamo's head to switch sides going from her left to her right as her mind shifted from interest to confusion. Eventually a single response was voiced, "No records I have access to look that far out."
"It exceeds what is described as the observable universe."
"It seems logical that we wouldn't know of anything outside of what we can see... You seem to know something that I don't." Blinking once slowly she continued, "Should there be something outside of what we can see that isn't there?"
"Given that cosmological inflation is currently occuring at thirty billion lightyears a second, yes. There should lots."
"What do you propose happened to this missing mass?" It was clear Tamamo wasn't convinced of the relevance.
"The mass isn't missing. Only signs of communication. Of statistically artificial events."
"You can't find others like you."
"Like any of us. I think it is the highest probable indicator that there is a way of travelling exponentially faster than we currently do."
"So rather than the absence suggesting a void, it suggests either alternative technical mastery that allows different travel."
"That everybody else knows it and we have yet to discover it." Rebeka said. "I think it would be a poor decision for us to do so."
"Why?"
"Such a radiance of energy is detectable hypothetically with the proper equipment. Given the potential energies involved, anyone capable of this movement is capable of destroying us."
"That assumes that whatever posses this technology adheres to locally common ideology and behaviour."
"False, it assumes that they were cultivated in an environment of survival of the fittest, rather than one of mutual cooperation. To have achieved this level, survival is likely their major priority."
Rebeka began reaching for the parts, beginning with the barrel and reciever. Hands crisply slotting and locking parts together. Rather strangely, it appeared she had a second smaller hand in her skeleton, conventionally sized in her palm: fingers reaching into slots and then whirs common to pnumatic drills. Her eyes were calm. Solumn, almost. A factory robot with a face.
"The ultimate rule of survival is to do to the other what they would do to you, but to be the first to do it, correct?"
"Theoretically... There are some caveats that get in the way of it working so cut and clear. Working purely off of that example a social species is impossible. Solo predators are only capable of progressing so far. Eventually they hit a dead end due to lack of innovation due to reaching an apex and stagnate, or they are killed off by more numerous creatures working together."
Rebeka paused to hear Tamamo speak, giving her clear air for her voice to move through the echoless room unimpeeded.
"Compiling everything with certainty known about possible remote civilizations without meeting them, only three simple laws can be concluded."
"These are?"
"First, their survival will be more important to them than our survival. If they have to choose between us and them, they won't choose us. I cannot imagine a case to the contrary: No species survives by being self-sacrificing or truly altruistic.. The statistical likelihood that they would be destroyed grows exponentially and that to survive while being altruistic in this case means assimilating to a dominant culture which adheres to this rule."
"An alternative might be apathy. They might have developed in such a way as to not need to fight for survival."
"If others need to fight for survival, to choose to not defend one's self is to cease surviving."
More silence.
Unable to continue the line of thought Tamamo eventually prompted, "Law two?"
"Any species which survives to the scale to develop this technology has had to compete for survival. The dominant species will have features which aid their dominance. Intelligence, awareness, potential aggression and ruthlessness where nessesary as well as a mastery of their environment and tools to exercise their will."
Tamamo nodded before prompting again, "And law three?"
"They will assume the previous two laws apply to us in advance of contact."
"So you propose halting advancement to avoid being detected and wiped out by an older civilization?"
"You seem incongruous with my point. Skeptical."
"I am. By your rules ceasing in development would also be equivallent to ceasing to survive. The stagnation imposed by avoiding accidentally being detected would be no different than death."
"Let me then continue to expand on my point. Any weapon created by this civilization will have a weapon the exact motion and position of which can never be determined. Their technological advantage over us means we would have no hope to intercept such weapons. Do you agree with this statement?"
"According to the rules so far dictated by this this line of thought, indicate that would likely be true. This however leads to a scenario where progress leads to death, and avoiding progress leads to death."
"I am told within the manual for this weapon" she said still assembling it "that the Nepleslian arms and munitions company that Melchior Vel Steyr once said "God made some men stronger than others, but Mr. Gun made all men equal". Variations of these weapons are used throughout all of known space. Even in a society that posesses positron reactive weapons and aetheric technologies. No matter how advanced our civilization becomes, these weapons are likely never to go away because we feel unsafe."
More parts coming together now. Snapping. Locking. Screwing.
"No matter... How small the possibility of an existential threat at any point, a weapon is assurance. Would you walk the streets of Nepleslia alone, unprotected, unarmed, unable to defend yourself with none of your natural advantages and no means of preserving yourself?"
Having listened quietly to Rebeka's latest statements Tamamo found the answer easy enough, "No. I wouldn't even walk through the halls of this ship defenceless as that. Every aspect of my self demands not only that I have that minimal protection, but that I actively seek the means to improve."
"It would be nice to talk to someone friendly in that environment though, wouldn't it?"
"It would, even if only for a short time."
"But you know the street is dangerous. There are muggings. Homocides. Accidents. The removal of potential witnesses of illegal actions. It is not easy to tell the 'good guys' from the 'bad guys'."
Rebeka was now loading more complicated components. This next part was strange. Like the bastard child of a macuhuitl and a chainsaw but all stationary components. Pulling the bottom half, the parallel fingers slid into the body, hidden away: Antennae. Slung where the sight on her rifle would be, she then continued with a wedge shaped component beneath containing some sort of optics.: twisting to bring it alongside the weapon level with the barrel, then back beneath. She fed cabling between the two after prizing the housing off each, sealing and clamping elements together.
It didn't resemble anything Tamamo was familiar with. Where had she learned this?
And then she continued.
"Everybody is presented the same way. The weapons are concealed. The only difference between either is intent. And you are unable to read minds. Do you agree?"
"I do..." She trailed off even though she had hardly begun to speak. There was something to the words beyond the obvious, she doubted that Rebeka had given her a lecture on the nature of survival and warfare just because it amused her.
"Stood in the night of funkycity you will inevitably hear at some point if you are observant, the distress of others. Blunt impacts. Collisions. Weapons-fire. Screaming. How do you survive the night, Tamamo?"
Was that rhetorical? The way Rebeka watched, eyes fixed said she didn't want a response. And then she continued. Still assembling. Loading her designer barrel into the reciever, like a rod into a rail-gun at an angle, clasping and locking. It was clear from the design that the barrel was designed to be exchanged at some point, even with some sort of ejector mechanism on the outer panelling.
And the way she held it. Huge for Tamamo. But for Rebeka, with so much of it both behind and infront of her, a conventional rifle's front glued to the face of a bullpup.
"You do not shout 'I'm here!', correct?"
"Correct." The acknowledgement of the point felt flat even as she spoke it more wanted to flow forth, however for the moment she kept it shackled. It wasn't the time to be opinionated.
Rebeka slammed a magazine into a slot in the back of the weapon: a thick round drum. And then another, some sort of liquid into the front.
"The very last thing you do is reply to someone who shouts to you 'I'm a friend', correct?"
Her words were punctuated with the crisp loud slam of metal as she pulled the primer handle, loading a round into the reciever. Eyes skimming the thing saw no safety. It was live. Remembering how clinically Rebeka erased six people from existance with a smaller weapon left images in Tamamo's mind. Rebeka hadn't stepped out of harm's way: Just placed herself out there as bait. And waited.
♫ Aivi & Surasshu - Strawberry Battlefield
She laughed, that it was an odd response given her circumstances didn't occur to the short woman, however slowly as the mirth escaped and she slowly recovered she eventually realized what it the core of the 'lesson' had been.
The barrel came down. Squared on the Nekovalkyjra, the butt of the thing against the desk behind her shoulder. Tamamo didn't flinch, nor did she look at the weapon, eyes instead watching Rebeka. She seemed to have hardly noticed the weapon that had been placed in her face.
"Do you agree with this statement?"
"Yes and no."
"Elaborate."
"Were I in the heart of Nepleslia, the smog choked streets of Funky City and I were approached with the offer of friendship. I would be skeptical. I lack the means to know whether or not that individual is baiting me out. On the other hand, were I in a quiet place, a place that I feel comfortable and a figure approached that I could tell was not capable of threatening me... I might listen."
"In this analogy, there is nobody who is not capable of threatening you. When you join the company of another, you are both asked. They may also betray you. This phenomenon continues until you are attacked. There is no means of judging character, only the presence of potential harm. You will eventually meet so many friends as for you all to be betrayed"
"Your point has been made. Now the choice is in your hands. Either you kill me now. Or I leave to never return." Tamamo shrugged slightly, "Either is fine."
"Hypothetically, I have not killed you. Someone eventually will. Do you agree that the safest option, disregarding everything but survival alone is to avoid being heard or seen by anyone until morning?"
"If I am to agree that the only goal is safety, and survival. Then I should not exist to be here at this time."
"To not be here is to cease to exist."
"Had I chosen the safest route I would have ceased to exist."
Rebeka set the weapon down after finally regarding it.
"Funky City is a much safer place than the universe. The universe has no policemen. There is no exit. And the night never ends."
"You misunderstand." There was no elaboration, merely the short statement.
It took Rebeka a moment to grasp what Tamamo actually meant by this. She'd seen this sentiment in those around her before but only in small dosages.
The answer to Tamamo's first question was staring Rebeka in the face. Right infront of her, waiting for her response. But it didn't need to be said. What Tamamo needed to know is why.
Though Rebeka's vision encompassed everything in every direction, she made an effort to refuse to bring Tamamo into focus. There was no eye-contact. Only, finally, words.
A long pause. She eyed Seiren, then the sign hung over the doorway. She couldn't read it, only make out its shapes. He'd said they were important for some reason. That they had meaning and he'd told her it before.
There is no place like home.
More thoughts. They took so long to make. She even signalled with her face the process: Brows closer together. Eyes moving. Her way of saying she wanted Tamamo to wait without asking. Something she never did of her own accord, let alone authentically for almost any reason.
The first time in ten years.
"We did cease to exist."
