Cath

The Cradle

“It feels strange, doesn’t it? Being helpless.” 595 murmured, looking into the distance. Freyr glanced down at the black-clad Agent. She had gone from looking deathly pale to being quite flushed. Freyr quickly put the back of her hand to 595’s forehead. She pushed Freyr away but not quickly enough. “You’re burning up. What did the medics say?”

“They said I'm fine, it’s just a reaction to re-entry. Leave me alone and I’ll be right as rain in a minute.” 595 snapped, shifting away from them in her seat.

Freyr looked back at Vreta apologetically. “Sorry. I would like to say i’m confident we will reach an agreement...But, as always there are strong opinions on all sides. My worry is that we’re moving heaven and earth for a creature that hasn’t actually given us empirical evidence to back up it’s story. Ideally, we’d gain more information before making a decision we’ll regret. But i don’t think that is a priority for everyone at this meeting.”

The Cradle

Freyr looked at Vreta and smiled without showing any teeth. “Oh, hi. Thanks, I’m hanging in there. I’ll probably have to offer my resignation tonight. Clearly my judgement is compromised.” 595 chuckled into a cough from the chair beside her. “You can’t resign; we need you.” The Agent mumbled. Freyr’s eyebrows bounced and she looked down at the lounging individual. “Lucky me.”

She looked back at Vreta and crossed her arms. “You’ve seen almost everything i’ve seen recently. How do you think this will go? Are you worried?”

The Cradle

Freyr could see most of the Human delegates on screen trying their utmost to retain a neutral expression. Pretty much all, in fact, apart from the Director-General, who’s jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed. He began speaking, but was promptly muted by someone else in the conference.

President DeWinter smiled diplomatically. “Thank you very much for expanding more on your offer. I think we’d like to take a short break now to discuss internally. Please excuse us.” The screen abruptly went blank right after, replaced by the sigil of Outremer’s government.

The Speaker gave the Rothians leave to break for recess, and people began standing up and or talking. Most of the Human scientists began chatting among themselves. Freyr stretched her arms, reaching for the ceiling, before linking hands and gently twisting her back. She then rubbed her eyes, yawned and stood up. She caught 595’s eye again. “How are you feeling?” Freyr asked.

“Never better.” 595 grunted distractedly.

“You should get some rest. You’ve been through the wringer.”

“I plan on sleeping for a week once this meeting is done.”

Freyr nodded, patting the sitting Agent on the shoulder and surveying the rest of the room.

The Cradle

“I can take that first part for you, Madame President.” The Director-General asserted. DeWinter nodded, glad to put some distance between herself and this problematic legalese. The man with the shining eyes answered the Speaker.

“The Cradle has always been categorised as a ‘colonised habitat’ belonging to Outremer, ever since we founded New Antioch. For the past...three hundred and sixteen years it has been sub categorised as a ‘Tier 1 government installation’. This means we are authorised by Diaspora law to deny access for any reason. Given these unique circumstances, if this intelligence can prove that the Cradle is it’s home we are prepared to fast track it’s repatriation. But we cannot do that if you are holding it hostage and withholding it’s equivalent of medical assistance. You may well be contravening the Native Populations framework if you refuse to move it to Outremer.”

Freyr hung, speechless, on every word of this exchange. It was noticeable how much better prepared the Director-General was now, when compared to the last time they’d been together at the Rothian embassy on Outremer. She saw a man who had inadvertently opened up a can of worms, and was now painstakingly catching and killing all of the loose fugitives with the precision of a surgeon. Freyr also noticed that after his initial admonishment of herself, Smith had become utterly emotionless, perhaps to mirror the Speaker herself.

“Thank you, Director-General. I would like to add that we are well aware of the scale of this discovery. We’re looking forward to working together as allies to find a solution. I’m sure we can find some middle ground with regard to data sharing. We will also of course involve Rothia and any other civilisations in the decision-making process.”

The Cradle

“Thank you for submitting that proposal, Nirann. We will need assurances that the gate is only temporary, though.” President DeWinter smiled at the holographic Rothian then turned her head to address at Roth’Orsa.

“We have discussed the arrangement as a group and could potentially agree to expand the clause on exo-Cradle objects. So we can investigate this entity’s compatriots together.” The Director-General nodded encouragingly while DeWinter continued. “But we cannot agree to any expansion of our relationship regarding the Cradle. It is still our asset, and willfully relinquishing control to another civilisation would reflect poorly on this administration. Our top priority right now should be returning this thing home.”

The Cradle

When the rows of faces appeared back on the screen once the clip had finished, many of them wore truly shocked expressions. About two thirds had been instantly ejected from the meeting by the video’s clearance level, leaving only nine top officials in the conference.

Freyr knew immediately upon surveying the faces of her superiors that the Director-General had gotten his way. He’d wielded top secret footage from her morning briefing and hyperbole like a club to hammer any sense of caution or due process from his audience. She watched, exasperated, as Outremer’s high command discreetly messaged each other while the Speaker made her closing remarks.

Freyr quickly surveyed her colleagues' faces; they looked horrified with the pantomime unfolding before their eyes. She then caught 595’s eye - the agent was grim and pale, still not fully recovered from her re-entry. She gave Freyr an incomprehensible look - what was that? Pain? Fear? Sleep starved elation?

Freyr turned back and hurriedly leaned forward in her seat before the officials gave their answer. “As head of Cradle Research and Development, I would like to formally object to reuniting the artefact, codenamed Rothia 1, with the Cradle. Under Diaspora Colonial Secrets statute 43, article…61, the expedition lead can request thirty Earth days of direct study in-situ before presenting official recommendations to the-”

“Dr Lang I’m terribly sorry, but your conflict of interest with the Cradle’s operation precludes you from using DCS in this way. Especially in Rothian space.” Smith replied coolly, having obviously prepared responses to the primary arcane procedure that Freyr was privy to.

“Dr Lang... As someone who has lost a child too, I know the pain you must be feeling.” President DeWinter soothed; all of the faces had stopped talking to each other and were now watching her closely. “I would give anything to see my babies again. But we must do this, or we risk every future generation of Outreman children. For that reason, I'm authorising the repatriation of this object to the Cradle. I hope you will help us, Freyr.” Dr Lang massaged her eye sockets, resigning herself once again. She nodded slowly. "Of course, Madame President."

The Cradle

Freyr felt her ears and cheeks burning as the Speaker addressed her. She was talking about things Freyr had tried hard to suppress to fulfil her role as lead scientist. Freyr glanced up at the bank of screens and saw Outremer’s high command regarding her with...pity? Disgust? It was impossible to tell. Many of the top brass may not have been well aware of her conflict of interest. Freyr looked down at her arms and tried not to lose composure.

“How long would it take? Theoretically.” Benoit Souza spoke up. He was very soft spoken; so much that his microphone artificially enhanced the sentence. Freyr looked up, letting out a shuddering breath. “We’d need...a few months at least. Not including the lab setup.” She could tell that wasn’t the answer a lot of them wanted to hear. They had no doubt all been briefed that Outremer’s presence in the Cradle had little more than nine months left.

“I don’t want to rule anything out.” President DeWinter admitted. “How long can we resist this expulsion from the Cradle? Are there any more counter-measures we can take in the short term?” Freyr nodded, glad of the life line. “Yes, we’ve been making strides toward developing a ‘counter-insurgency’ terraform grid which will resist the corruption, and more effective weapons to-”

“Dr Lang, you’ve been away from the Cradle for weeks.” The Director-General stopped her. “The Cradle’s aggression is becoming more sophisticated faster than we can develop the means to stop it. The corruption is no longer limited to the borderlands - if i may, this is footage extracted from one of the labs in NA yesterday. Apologies, it is quite graphic.”

After a short pause, the bank of people on the screen disappeared, replaced by a video clip taken from a CraSec helmet cam. It showed a long corridor with plate glass windows looking into sub-labs. A dozen scientists sprinted toward the camera, pursued by what could only be described as a giant post-aquatic cephalopod. The thing’s body was contorting to fit into the narrow space. Three fleshy arms reached out to grab people and shove them into a beak-like mouth. The soundtrack consisted of blaring alarms and screaming.

The Director-General stopped the clip after about fifteen seconds. “That creature did not despawn after the surge had abated. It is still wreaking havoc as we speak.”

The Cradle

“Yes, you’re right. But if we could get a Terraformer and Builder inside the simulation, they could create us a lab that’ll give us a shot at realigning the languages. This would allow us unprecedented access to-’”

“Dr Lang, with all due respect; we simply don’t have time for ‘realignment’!” The Director-General interrupted her. “Even without this Hegemon threat, we are still losing a war for control of the Cradle from within. You remember that transit station where we met? It’s now an island, in the middle of an angry sea. Every day we waste means more lives lost.”

Freyr hmphed. She didn’t quite understand what her boss was doing, but she was going to fight for David, Amy, and all the other dead who she hoped were still retrievable somewhere inside the Cradle. Even if that meant being sacrificed on the altar of public opinion in the process. “It is my job to control what the Cradle interacts with. If we do as this thing says, it’s quite likely we’ll lose control of the Cradle forever, and all the lives we’ve lost will be in vain.”

Freyr licked her lips and gulped to moisten her parched throat. “There may be nothing we can do to stop it leaving and taking our best chance of surviving any potential attack with it. But give me enough time with it in its current state, and I may be able to extract the tools we need to repair the Cradle ourselves. We might even find a way to bring the Cradle dead back.”

There was a moment of what Freyr perceived as 'stunned silence' in the conference room. “Forgive me if I’m mistaken, but that sounds a lot like torture, Dr Lang.” The Director-General growled. “It is my duty to give you all of the options. Especially if they can potentially save our planet from chaos." Freyr insisted, folding her arms.

The Cradle

DeWinter nodded rigidly, lips locked together. “The people of Outremer will require evidence. We cannot just move to a war footing without tangible evidence of this threat. It is my understanding that this creature didn’t actually provide us with anything we could corroborate?” Freyr fielded this one too.“That is correct, Madame President. The team asked, but it became too weak to provide any reference points.”

Freyr turned to address the majority of the Rothian delegates next. “We should consider providing it with alternate sources of power. It could be able to use them, meaning we can attempt a safe re-entry in a couple of days. It may be willing to give us the rest of the answers we need.” Another person jumped in almost immediately from the screen. “That would be a poor substitute for moving the asset back to Outremer right away, Dr Lang. Giving it power on Rothia provides no guarantee that it will be well enough to help us with these facts.”

Freyr remembered that voice, but couldn’t place it to a face. She searched the sea of visages to try and find someone else she recognised. “Well, yes. Potentially. Who am I speaking to?” Another face appeared where one of the anonymous silhouettes had been seconds before. He had short, well-groomed grey hair, a timeless complexion and bright augmented blue eyes. Her stomach clenched, seemingly on it’s own, at the sight of him. “Director-General Smith, of The Cradle Institute. I’m pleased to see you again, Dr Lang.” He smiled.

The Cradle

DeWinter interlinked her fingers and looked gravely at the gathered congregation. “It deeply concerns us that we’d be risking it all on this entity’s plan when it may not work. What if it disappears with the Cradle and this Hegemon still attacks us? You will know already that most of our military and our defensive infrastructure is coordinated indirectly through New Antioch. There is a good reason that - the Cradle has limitless computing power and is essentially impregnable. It means we’ve been punching above our weight for centuries.”

DeWinter reached for a glass of water and looked at someone off camera. Lord Hale took over from her. His voice was storied and gravelly. “That’s correct. And it pains me to say this, but without the Cradle, we will be reliant on Human instinct for months while we rebuild our entire system. Any hope of an optimised resistance against this unknown enemy will be thrown into complete disarray. Our Navy is one of the finest in the galaxy, but without the Cradle, our response will be scrappy and inefficient to start with, at best. We cannot risk it.”

DeWinter nodded, placing the glass back down again. “Dr Lang, is there any way we can keep the Cradle in position on Outremer if we do return this creature to it?” Freyr blinked rapidly and sat up in her seat; she was starting to feel the strain of 36 hours with no sleep. “It’s hard to say, Madame President. We do not know the Cradle’s corporeal capabilities.” She thought for a moment, well aware of all the eyes on her. “It is possible we could convince this entity to stay with us if we agree to, um, join its cause. But we have to consider its other ‘comrades’ as well; something tells me it won't be well disposed to us if we don't retrieve them too.”