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The Facilitator stared soberly up at Rareth - an eyebrow twitched. He mopped his sweaty brow with the cloth again. “I’ll see what I can do. A friendly word of advice though: you should get your people off-world before things turn really ugly. This isn’t even close to being over, believe me.” He pointed at the TV. The picture showed Group Admiral Hale, who they’d met at a previous conference, addressing a cloud of journo-drones via secure uplink.

“-bring the perpetrators to justice. Please allow our law enforcement and civilian services agencies do their work, and remain in your-”

The Facilitator brought the hardline up to his ear again. “Go for the Vault…Code please…Confirmed. I’ll send them up - make sure you’re ready.” He put the phone down and called loudly into the room. “CRD, Rothian delegates, pack your things! You’re heading out in FIVE minutes! Sergeant Skopec, assemble your team. You’re going up with them.”


Freyr would’ve argued harder to remain in the Vault, where they could make a real difference, if she’d been able. But she felt too groggy after her sleep to put up much of a fight. A headache split her right down the middle, so the most she could do was hold back the endless waves of nausea and stay close to Dr Wetherall as they scrambled to evacuate the Vault. A coterie of anonymous technicians filed in to take up posts left by her team.

“Come, my dear. Let's go and get you some fresh air.” Dr Wetherall soothed, offering an arm for support as they left the control room. She looked back one last time at the picture of the Cradle hanging in the air, the Navigator spinning slower around it. She hoped it wouldn’t be the last time she could lay eyes on it.


The ride up to the surface was somehow even more tense than the journey down. The camp outside the Vault was buzzing with activity, with all manner of vehicle speeding about. Black-clad soldiers were everywhere, scanning CraSec forces and loading them into troop transports. Freyr started when she thought she saw 595 in the throng as they drove through, but it was just a man wearing very similar armour. He was standing in the middle of a melee of soldiers and giving orders, pistol drawn and tapping impatiently at his thigh.

The rail system out of the Vault complex and up towards the surface was jam packed with soldiers and civilian personnel. Freyr realised at that point that her team was no longer the most important piece of the puzzle. She exchanged a concerned look with Vreta, who seemed to always be hovering nearby.


At least fifty heavily armed operators, led by Sergeant Skopec, surrounded them on their way through Babel Tower to their exfil pad. It was a couple of hours before dawn now, and the wind bit at Freyr as they finally arrived in an open-air hangar where four armoured transports waited. The front and back vehicles were already full, so they all piled into the third one and they took off almost before everyone had strapped into a jumpseat. Through the open (but shielded) doors at the back, Freyr just about made out a cloud of drones following them into the air.

They banked out of the hangar in tight formation. Freyr caught a glimpse of black smoke from the Parliament estate billowing into the night air, against a backdrop of Outremer’s moon. Many of the city’s lights were still on, presumably with people unable to sleep after recent events.

She felt no such issue anymore. Despite the bitter cold in the transport, sleep tugged at her like a comforting blanket. Her eyelids drooped as she crossed her arms and leaned her head against Dr Wetherall’s shoulder. “Wake me when you need me.” She slurred, as everything went black.

END OF PART ONE

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Vreta gazed out the back of the transport at the landscape beneath them, even as they drew nearer to their destination. From what he could see from the sky, there were thick, tropical rainforests all beneath him, dispersed between clusters of rolling mountains. It actually reminded him of parts of Rothia where the mountains were older and more weathered. It was a pleasant kind of environment, in his opinion. The heat of the tropics was always welcome for Rothians, and forests were always teeming with exotic alien life. There was certainly a part of him that wished he could be here under different circumstances, as he was not sure if there would be any chance to rest.

Despite the distance between the cities, the flight to Réunion was measured in minutes, especially with the priority given to them as passengers on a government dropship. It did not take long for the pilot to notify them that they would be coming in for a landing shortly. Observing forward through the external cameras gave Vreta a new sight to admire in the form of the city itself. It was a layered city arranged across three mesas, on the edge of a large lake. A river flowing down from the mountains created multiple waterfalls to tie together the idyllic scenery. The city itself, again, gave Vreta some reminders of home. It was a massive city in every respect, well-maintained, with a skyline that showed an appreciation for aesthetics just as much as function. In some ways, it seemed like it stood as a part of the natural landscape, rather than being in opposition to it.

When the transport came in, it landed on a pad on the smallest and highest of the mesas. They were high up, even above some of the clouds, so the air was cooler than Vreta might have preferred. Still, that was hardly a priority at the moment. After all they had been through, Vreta just wanted to get some rest, though it seemed that Freyr was certainly way ahead of him in that regard. She had fallen fast asleep on the way.

Once on the ground, Vreta finally stood from his seat and approached Freyr and Dr. Whetherall. There had been such a short time aboard the transport that he did not particularly want to wake her so soon, so he glanced down at Dr. Whetherall. “I can carry her, if we don’t want to disturb her.” He remarked.

After unbuckling her harness, Vreta slowly hoisted Freyr up into his arms so as not to wake her. He had the strength to handle her weight with ease, so it was no meaningful burden to him to carry her around.
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“Daddy, Do you see that? Open your eyes.”
“Don’t look at it baby. Don’t look at the lights. They aren’t real.
“It's Mummy!! Mummy help us!”

“Freyr!”


Freyr woke with a start, plastered in sweat despite the air conditioning. She grabbed at the cosy blanket over her and jerked upright, completely disoriented. Brushing hair out of her face, she took in the sumptuous double bedroom. In front of her was a big walk in shower, and to her left was a closed door. The wall to her right was entirely composed of glass, and after rolling up the blinds Freyr put a hand up to shield from the bright afternoon sunshine. Eventually the windows adjusted to dampen the light, and she finally remembered where she was.

Réunion unfolded like an intricate origami figure below her. Three stepping stones down to the azure blue lake, adorned with elegant arcologies, hydro-dams and decadent tropical parks. Mist and clouds floated about the mountain peaks on either side of the city and the opposite side of the lake. She made out brightly coloured sails from the multitude of yachts racing out on the mirror-calm waters. Freyr felt her heartbeat return to normal, and sighed. She’d always meant to bring Amy here. She’d visited once on department business and knew straight away her little girl would’ve loved the water.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in.” Freyr called, maneuvering her legs off the side of the bed. She was fully clothed except for her shoes and jacket.

There was a click outside, footsteps and then another click, and then another click. The door to her left open a crack. “Everyone decent in here?” A familiar voice asked.

“Yes. Come on in.”

Masgard Xandrus’ handsome bearded face appeared around the door and smiled. His freshly suited body followed, along with a tray of food and a glass of pink juice. “I tried to remember the last time you ate something, and couldn’t. So i brought you breakfast, or should i say dinner?” Xandrus chuckled, approaching the bed.
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Vreta stood next to the window of his apartment, looking out over the mesa. The section of the apartment building that the Outremer military had allocated to them was near the apex of the city itself. Some clouds he could see passing beneath him, though it was a mostly clear day, overall. In the day that he had been here, he could not say that he had accomplished much except for resting, though that was certainly important in and of itself. He still felt a mild hint of a headache in the back of his mind, but he at least was not nearly so exhausted as he was before. He had spoken to a few members of the team, like Dr. Whetherall and Marae, for a short time, but not many had been too keen for conversation right away. Nirann was an exception, but he had seemed distracted in different ways.

Vreta had only been awake for a few hours himself, and as of yet had not left his room. There seemed to be enough space in the building for all of the members of the team to have their own apartments, which, for the moment, suited Vreta just fine, as he was free to keep the air temperature higher than most Humans would be comfortable with.

Eventually, Rhia passed on a notification that Freyr’s implants were marking her as available, which meant she was finally awake. Now that the Human science team was fully awake, they could gather to figure out their next move. Vreta currently had no updates or directives from Rareth, and the military certainly was not giving them any information as of yet, so it seemed to be up to them to figure out their next steps for now.

Letting out a sigh, Vreta reached out one hand and placed it on the window, his claws just barely touching the glass. It felt like every step they took caused as many problems as it did solutions. It seemed like they had more answers now than ever before, but they were still nowhere close to this being over. Regardless, all he could do was to keep pressing forward. After a few more moments, he directed his implants to make a call to Freyr.
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“That’s very kind, thank you.” Freyr smiled groggily, taking the tray from Masgard and laying it on her lap over the covers. It was laden with pastries and fruit, as well as the long pink drink. She grasped the glass and raised it delicately to her lips. “How long was I out? Is everyone safe?”

“About thirteen hours, once you were on the transport. Everyone is alright, as far as i can tell.”

“Yikes. I only meant to snatch a few minutes.”

Her implant registered a call from Vreta’Sori. “Ah, sorry. One second.” Freyr accepted the call and put it onto the holo-constellation suspended from the bedroom ceiling. “Vreta, you’re on speaker. How are you?” She found she was hungry, and popped one end of a croissant in her mouth.
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Vreta saw the video feed inside Freyr’s apartment appear in the corner of his vision. He turned around and leaned back up against the glass, then put his side of the call onto the apartment’s holo-system so she could see him as well.

“My headaches are better, mostly, and I am at least well-rested.” Vreta answered, shrugging his shoulders. He saw Masgard as well, through the feed, though he supposed that did not change anything about what he wanted to say. “I would guess you are feeling rested as well. We had not even made it to the city before you were out cold. I carried you to your room. Now that you’re up again, I was thinking we might want to get the team together and…figure out what we need to do next, I suppose. Everything happened quickly yesterday. I haven’t heard anything from Rareth, or anyone else, yet.”
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Freyr blushed slightly, and laughed nervously. “Yes, I'm not sure what came over me. At any rate, I'm feeling better now. Thank you.” She stuffed in another mouthful of pastry and washed it down with the pink juice. “Good idea. I should address the team… Where do we meet?”

“There’s a leisure and shopping floor three below us. Skopec had us set up a temporary hub there.” Masgard jumped in. “Excellent. Let's head there now.” Freyr wiggled herself out of bed, suddenly energised. She declined her lab coat when Xandrus offered it, electing instead to wrap some of her breakfast in a napkin and shove it in the pocket of her trousers. She took one last drink then looked at Vreta. “See you down there. Lets go, Masgard dear.”

Most accommodation blocks in Réunion were self-sufficient, and run by a machine intelligence. This one didn’t seem any different, though the OCI appear to have muzzled the AI from doing anything other than the basics. Nonetheless, it welcomed them onto a large arcade level, filled with venues for entertainment and nourishment. All staffed by machines, naturally. Freyr waved to a gaggle of her team who were having a meeting at the sushi bar. Soldiers guarded every door.

One of the venues was a conference hall, which was already littered with portable consoles and other paraphernalia snatched from the Vault. Scientists of both species were pouring over holos or talking to each other. Freyr spotted Vreta near the entrance.

“Good afternoon, everyone.” Freyr announced upon walking in and strolling to the coffee machine. Most people stopped what they were doing. She surveyed the room as her hot drink poured. “I’m relieved to see everyone here in one piece. Including you, Dr Girard.” Freyr smiled at the researcher who’d taken a nasty knock inside the simulation.

“How is everyone holding up? A lot has happened.” She asked.
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After Freyr greeted the room, there was a heavier set of footsteps off to her right as she was approached by a Rothian droid. Though, even those steps themselves were enough to show that it was out of the ordinary. There was a certain “personality” in the way it moved that identified it as Nirann. “I’d say today is a pretty strong improvement over yesterday. Except for how jealous everyone keeps trying to make me in that food court out there. Really starting to wish I had a stomach right now. Or at least a tongue; I’d settle for a tongue.”

“As much as it is tempting to do so, I don’t think we should be so content.” Marae remarked, stepping up alongside Nirann and putting a hand on his metal shoulder. “Everyone seems to be fine right now, but it would be wise for everyone who set foot in the simulation to receive monitoring and treatment, if needed. Just in case.”

At the same time, Vreta followed behind Freyr and eyed the coffee machine with some curiosity. Its scent was strong to him, and not too similar to anything he was used to. Once she had her cup, Vreta started to follow the same steps to make one for himself. Though, he still spoke up after Marae. “The military…OCI, right? Even if they don’t arrange that, I’m sure Rareth will. With the way I saw her acting back in the Vault, calling her ‘uncompromising’ would be an understatement. In fact, if anyone has any requests, it would probably be most effective for me to forward them to her.”

Nirann tilted his head briefly and was just about to speak, but Marae interrupted before he could even start. “No, she’s not getting you a tongue.”
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“Agreed, Marae. Everyone should get another check up, even if they didn’t go into the Cradle last night.” Freyr slurped her coffee, sitting on an unoccupied edge of the big middle table. “I felt very peculiar after coming out. Did you feel the same, Dr Wetherall?” The old man shrugged from behind Freyr, on the other side of the table. He was attacking a bowl of ramen with particular gusto. “About the same, I suppose. A bit tired. Achy.”

“Ok. Do we have any facilities on hand right now?”

“There’s a med-clinic on the floor below, I think.” Dr Dlamini offered.

“That could work. Did we manage to bring any of our own scanner gear with us?”

“No clue. We leave in rush - these boys in black packed everything strangely.” Dr Apalkov boomed, motioning to one of the two OCI operators currently guarding the door.

Freyr looked at the lead Rothians assembled nearby. “What do you think Rareth could get a hold of?” She instinctively looked around for the Agent, who would’ve been staring daggers at the mention of Rothian aid. But she wasn’t here. Freyr didn’t know whether to feel elated or worried by that.
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“Strictly speaking, I imagine she has the pull to get resources that the Rothian team members need. But, there’s nothing stopping the rest of you from benefiting from what she gets for us.” Vreta replied. “At this moment, what comes to my mind are Rothian medial equipment, supplies, and personnel. The cruiser has plenty to spare. How would you say it? There would be hell to pay if your leaders withheld proper medical treatment to Rothian citizens. That would be about the most blatant violation of long-standing treaties that they could commit.”

Vreta let out a slight sigh as his mind went to some of the less pleasant possibilities of what the future could hold, even if they did not seem particularly likely. “Rareth is a Datius, so her judgement is trusted. She absolutely can enforce her demands with the political weight of the Rothian state. The Rahn’Saki can overrule a Datius, of course, but…it’s not often that they disagree. Your government already agreed to cooperate with us as equal partners on this project. No matter who is in charge, we will still expect them to honor that agreement. Rothians wield substantial influence in galactic markets, and this matter with the Cradle is important enough for the Rahn’Saki themselves to take a personal interest. If your military starts breaking Outremer’s agreements with us, Rareth could threaten trade embargoes on Outremer, not just from us, but from other major trading partners of the planet. Especially if we start offering incentives for them to cooperate with the embargo.”

Vreta frowned, and after a moment, shook his head. “Let’s just hope none of that comes to pass. Surely your military has the sense not to break its alliances now, of all times, especially when we are perfectly willing to cooperate peacefully. The kind of damage a conflict now would cause would be devastating to Outremer’s people.”
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There was a moment of stunned silence after Vreta finished speaking. Freyr sighed and massaged her eyelids with two fingers. She supposed it was this Rothian’s job to manage expectations to some degree. But even by their standards, that was a big gaffe. An unhelpful remark from a frustrated aide to a bunch of already very scared scientists. Freyr didn’t look around, but she could practically feel the looks of anxiety and in some cases, anger, burning into her from all over.

“Alright. Well, see what she can fetch. I’m sure anything will be helpful at this stage.” Freyr took charge again, nodding to Vreta.

“And I want a full workup of what we saw from the Cradle and Navigator’s coupling, ready to present by sub-team in thirty minutes. We’ve been in silos for long enough - it's time to come together again now.” Freyr looked around the room, pushing herself off from the table and downing the rest of her coffee. After another moment, everyone jumped into action. Sub-teams huddled up to decide what information was most pertinent to discuss. It was a slightly different approach to most departments, but Freyr found it useful for her own thought process.

Once she was satisfied, Freyr turned back to Vreta. "Can I talk to you for a second?" She asked.

"Turn down the rhetoric now, ok? Please? We've been through a lot, and I want to get back to how things are supposed to be." She spoke in a firm tone.
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Again, Vreta let out a sigh, speaking quietly to Freyr. “Freyr, I wish it was rhetoric. If it was just rhetoric, I wouldn’t be so damn worried. Every word I said, I say with reason, because I want to make sure it never happens. Ever since the start of this project, the Rothian part of this team has been given the run-around, had information withheld from us, and had certain steps taken without our agreement. I know Rareth isn’t going to tolerate that any more. We have an agreement to be equal partners, and she’s going to demand everything that implies. You know that is not how I would want to do things, and I’ve…advised her as much as I can, but she can be uncompromising.”

Eventually, Vreta’s coffee finished brewing and he took it cautiously in his hands. It was still clearly far too hot to drink, so he waited on it for now. “I know it’s not a pleasant thing for the team to hear, but they need to hear it all the same. Everyone needs to be on the same page, and we all need to understand the stakes. What happens now is important, and it really can’t wait. Even Rareth still wants to be allies, but she won’t stand for being mistreated. We all need to do everything we can to make sure this project continues as a cooperative venture.”
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“Be that as it may, you need to co-operate with me before making such an announcement. There is a time, place and manner for doing so, alright? This team is still my responsibility.” With that, Freyr brushed past Vreta, placed her cup in the auto-cleaner and left the conference centre.

She took a moment to calm down and look around the floor. The ceiling was high, and she spotted a whole mezzanine level she’d missed before. Putting the prospect of exploring it to one side for a moment, Freyr wandered across the main atrium to the sushi bar a half dozen people were gathered around. The rest of the place seemed empty, except for an Institute operator at the top of the gravity lift off to one side. Soft music piped in from somewhere.

“Hey everyone. We’re regrouping on our findings in thirty. Can you-...” Freyr trailed off on her approach when she realised everyone was transfixed to a holo above the rotating sushi belt. On it were chaotic scenes from a journo-drone of protestors throwing objects at rows of riot droids. Flames licked up into the sky from upturned cars and shop fronts, unhindered even by the rain. “Oh no! Where is this?” Freyr asked, nervously eating the bits of breakfast she’d stashed in her trousers.

“Babylon. But they said it was spreading.” One of the sub-team replied, gingerly maneuvering a piece of sushi into his mouth with chopsticks without removing his eyes from the holo.

“It is.” A voice said from behind Freyr. She turned, and saw a tall soldier with shoulder-length red hair, pushed back with a headband. He wore the same black armour as the others, but with no helmet. He had a sanguine scar on his otherwise pale face, across his left cheek from ear to mouth. “But you’re safe in here.”

“Sergeant Skopec.” Freyr affirmed, vaguely remembering him from the evacuation earlier. “Good afternoon ma’am. I hope you and your team are settling in.” His voice was gravelly, and accented.
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For Vreta, just about everything he saw on the holoscreen simply felt bizarre to him. Even having lived on Outremer for as long as he had, it was hard to get over how different life could be on this world. In Rothian space, protesting, especially of this variety, was not legal. The idea of hundreds or thousands of people taking to the streets was simply alien to him. On Rothia, someone throwing objects at an enforcement droid would find themselves unconscious in a matter of seconds. “I sometimes wonder if I will ever truly understand this place. Why do they not simply pacify these rioters? Do the droids not have weapons capable of safely incapacitating them?” Vreta asked. By his tone, it sounded like less of a direct criticism, and more of an actual, genuine question.

Vreta’s focus was split onto the screen when he finally tried a sip of his coffee, only for his face to scrunch up as he nearly coughed it up. He certainly had not expected it to be so, overwhelmingly bitter. “People drink this?” He muttered.

Regardless, Vreta did shake off his discomfort to reply to the soldier who approached. “There have been no incidents yet, and no…obvious medical emergencies. Still, my people will need to bring in our medical personnel. Since they will be coming directly from the cruiser, though, that shouldn’t present any security issues for your team.”
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“They have a right to be angry. We haven’t exactly been upfront with them about things.” Freyr muttered, still annoyed at Vreta. She looked over, and despite her annoyance sighed when she spotted him looking dismayed at his drink. “Put some milk and sugar into it.” She whispered, nodding towards the lizard’s steaming coffee.

“It seems most of the mainstream news focus is on the terrorist attacks, not the Cradle.” The late Dr Hou’s protégé, Dr Kim, commented. “A masterpiece of deflection.” He chuckled to himself.

Skopec regarded Vreta with a look of haughty disdain. “They will come, soon. Flights from orbit are locked down tight right now. We are negotiating for their release, and then they will land in a separate location. We will pick them up, to avoid them being tracked back here. Your Datius is organising it, along with the collection of your soldiers.”
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For just a moment, Vreta opened his mouth as if he were about to reply. The natural reaction for him was that the people should trust the plans of their leadership to protect the citizenry. Amid such a disaster, Rothians would be looking to their government for protection. However, Vreta had personally seen what Outremer’s government was like up close. He had been often disappointed by their decision making, not to mention how fractured they were. As strange as it seemed to him, he did not feel like he could argue against Freyr here. He would not trust them either.

Momentarily speechless as he was, Vreta just took the chance to follow Freyr’s advice. He was not sure how much milk or sugar the coffee needed, nor in what proportions, but there were few ways that it could get worse than what he already had. When he finally did speak up again, Vreta’s voice felt much softer. “Well, then maybe it is time for my people to make good on their promise to take in refugees. We have more than enough resources to care for them comfortably, and we can keep them safer than anyone else in this galaxy. Safe from terrorist attacks, and safe from any fallout from whatever decisions your new government might make. All we need is for your people to accept the offer, and we might be able to avert a disaster here. Your people don’t deserve to suffer for this.”

Vreta gave a look towards Skopec. “In fact, if Rareth is otherwise occupied at the moment, then I may be able to assist in organizing this myself. It’s not as if I have much else I can be doing at the moment. Could you put me into contact with your superiors who have the relevant decision-making authority?”
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Skopec laughed throatily, playfully slapping Vreta’s shoulder. Freyr realised they were pretty much the same size, when viewed close together. “You’re a funny one! No. We can’t have everyone talking at once - we are in a blackout. Do you understand? It's dangerous right now. Maybe tomorrow, we’ll be able to do more.”

“I need you to join this feedback session anyway.” Freyr explained, rounding on the Rothian. “You were there with me - it seems like you might even remember more. That’s the most important task right now, piecing together what has happened. We’ll need to file an official report soon.”
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Vreta did not share Skopec’s attitude, instead simply maintaining his gaze. “Then I shall plan to speak with them tomorrow. I wouldn’t really want to delay it any longer than that, after all. I think we can all agree that it would be better that I be the one to speak to them, rather than Rareth. Which she certainly will, if I do not.”

Having followed Freyr’s advice, Vreta gave a quick look down to his coffee, took in its scent once more, then gave it another small, cautious taste. It was…better than before, at the very least. He wondered if the taste was at all similar for him as it was to the Humans. “I have my recording, of course.” Vreta replied to Freyr. “Though, nothing that happened when the Navigator spoke to me was recorded. I just have my own memory for that. Maybe together we’ll be able to make sense of it, I suppose. So yes, I agree. We get everyone together and discuss it while it is still somewhat fresh on our minds.”
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“We will try our best to avoid disappointing you.” Skopec chuckled drily. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’d best go and help coordinate. You should begin your report - just ensure you record everything securely.” With that, the Sergeant turned and jogged away, making almost no noise. “Well…” Freyr began. “He seems nice. Come along. We should get this session started. There’ll be time for sushi later.” They were alone in the food court now, with the sub-team that had been perched by the food conveyor belt making their way into the conference hall.


“We think Navigator was able to exploit quite a simple flaw in the holding area system to open the door. After probing for a bit, presumably to learn about its obstacle, It temporarily convinced the internal sensory grid that it essentially didn’t exist.”

Dr Wetherall stood by his seat in the auditorium, pointing to part of a technical hologram of the Vault’s holding bay. His finger translated into a red laser point that skimmed over a variety of sensors marked inside the space. The rest of the scientists and some Institute observers were dotted around the hall in various states of entrancement. Freyr stood near the back, as was customary for her in these sessions.

“I learned today that the default for some forty years has been to leave that door open so we can use the equipment inside it on the Cradle. This meant once the Navigator blinked from existence, the doors came out of lockdown and could be hacked. The AI controller couldn’t code a fix fast enough, which is quite astonishing in itself. We’re talking nanoseconds here.” He licked his chapped, wrinkly lips.

“How can we be sure that little maneuver can’t work in reverse too?” Someone asked in the crowd. The feedback sessions always included questions, to stimulate debate and explore other avenues.

“We made the Vault team aware of our supposition before we left. And I believe they tasked the controller with auditing the process to look for other vulnerabilities. It's difficult to stomach the fact that this pinnacle of Outreman engineering was manipulated in such a way. But there was always going to be the possibility of new approaches no one had considered.”
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When it came to the assessment of vulnerabilities, Nirann certainly had something to say. He leaned forward in his seat, which he was using despite the fact that his body had no muscles that could ever tire to begin with. “If I may, I really wouldn’t suggest putting too much faith in the idea that we can keep the Navigator contained to begin with. Keeping external intruders out, sure, but at this point, if the Navigator wants to bring the Cradle somewhere else, it will be able to do it. Speaking as a hyperintelligent AI myself, there’s no way any of us will be able to out-think it with the hardware we have available. Intrusion prevention between two AIs is like a dance where we’re trying to maneuver past one another. One of us finding the holes, and the other closing them off. If the hardware is similar between them, then it comes down to cleverness, creativity, but if one can just think significantly faster, then it’s pretty much no contest. If the Navigator gets control of the Cradle completely, or even partially, then we don’t have any hardware here than can really come close to that. It’s probably best that we make a plan for what to do if it decides it wants the Cradle to move.”

As he started to sit back in his seat, Nirann shrugged his shoulders. “Unless, of course, we just want to say ‘screw it’, physically lock down the vault, and remove all software controls. Then, the only way it breaks out is the, uh, ‘old-fashioned’ way. Can’t hack a metal clamp. That also stops us from bringing anything into the vault, of course, but that’s the only way we can get guarantees here.”

“I think we may want to consider whether we want to try to contain it at all.” Vreta remarked. “We brought the Navigator here ostensibly as an ally so it could calm the Cradle. What impression are we giving if we keep it locked in like a prisoner? If it does end up gaining control of the Cradle, do we really want to risk antagonizing it?”
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