The Nomad completed its solemn journey to Prospero.
Prospero was not humanity's first extrasolar discovery, but it had undoubtedly become the new Earth, the true center of human civilization, even if official governments remained headquartered on humanity's cradle. That cradle, however, was notoriously difficult to access for preservation reasons, particularly for Xenos, so much so that it was commonly referred to as "the Mythical Earth."
When asked, the average person would tell you that humanity had originated on a distant planet that now resembled a theme park for disconnected elites, only to quickly relocate to the crown jewel of the Big Five.
Prospero was a planet of life and death, air and land. Orbiting a distant blue sun, which filtered into pure white light through its atmosphere, it was more massive than Earth and boasted days exactly 30 hours long. Prospero's time had become the universal standard.
Xenobiologists quickly validated this ancient planet—one without mountains or saltwater—as ideal for colonization. Its fertile soil hosted vegetation of boundless energy. Pluck one fruit, and another would appear in days. Cut down a plant, and shoots would sprout within the hour. A veritable life factory: if you polluted water, indigenous microorganisms would ravenously devour the toxins and purify it.
Some scholars theorized that this ecosystem was a "Transient artifact," akin to molecular reconfigurators or the impossible starships these superior beings had left scattered like forgotten picnic items before heading to their incomprehensible destinations.
Regardless of its origins, the planet could sustain an immense population. Early colonies became cities, which grew into sprawling metropolises. Humanity's furious expansion spewed continental quantities of pollution, only to be absorbed by nature, which thrived on the challenge and demanded more. Cities covered most of Prospero's singular landmass. Urban layers stacked atop each other—three, four, five levels high—to cater to elites demanding access to blue skies. Today, Prospero's official census counted a symbolic 500 billion humans, not including its countless Xenos inhabitants.
Under its weight, vast sections of Prospero sank into the earth, piercing its thin mantle and plunging pillars deep into molten lava. As if the planet hadn't given enough, this vertical churn brought precious metals to the surface: iron, platinum, uranium, cobalt, silica, and most notably, "the brass of the world's heart," or Kentrochalcum—a naturally occurring alloy formed in the planet's core, as light as it was indestructible.
The discovery of Kentrochalcum birthed a new branch of physics called Uberkraft, which sought to replicate the alloy's structure in other metals. Its greatest achievement to date was Hyperchalcum, derived from rhodium, gold, and bismuth, and rumored to form the foundation of the Wau's legendary armor.
Even the rivers of lava crisscrossing the surface couldn't deter Prospero's flora, which thrived on the immense heat. Like the countless factories and power plants of Prospero's omnipolis, the vegetation harnessed this energy to flourish in intolerable conditions, reclaiming the planet, layer by layer, as its own.
It was into the twilight of this singular world that the Nomad made its emergency landing. For a brief moment, Astroport 14 halted its activities to welcome the tiny Raven, carrying refugees on the brink of oxygen depletion. A minor political dignitary (only an hour had passed since the crisis began), flanked by gray-suited advisors, journalists, onlookers, medics, and psi officers, all accompanied by specialized drones, gathered to witness the opening of the capsule and the metallic-scented rush of air.
Placing a hand on Salute's daughter's shoulder, the official solemnly declared that the HS would do everything possible to compensate the victims of this tragedy—pioneers, no less—and ensure they were integrated into a new life under the best conditions. Through some curious distortion of time and space, the crowd was already mourning a tragedy yet to unfold—one that would not be confirmed for another week.
Ada, who had her fill of refugee care policies, took just enough discreet steps to attract the attention of an official who asked what she was doing there. Then she disappeared into the crowd of onlookers, eventually running far away.
She vanished.
Marie Jespersen, Nikolas Bihotz, and the children didn't mention her disappearance for various reasons: some respected her escape, others didn't care about her fate, and some even hoped she'd fall into misery—or better yet, into lava.
A few days passed, washing away this tragedy amid the millions of other events that populated the information networks. Sky, meanwhile, found himself on one of the highest platforms of Astroport 14.
Behind a gray metal railing, warm winds rose from lava flows two kilometers below, carrying the hum of industries, markets, restaurants, temples, and streets, before fading into the murmurs of ship engines landing and taking off incessantly. These ships ranged from Raven freighters to Ozymandias vessels and older models: sleek Acronycta ships resembling silverfish—small courier ships often used as private transports by elites; Adventura vessels, plump with white and gold designs, intended for tourism; and even a colossal Colossus named Espérance, an ancient, seven-hundred-meter-long polygonal transport ship, black with grime and so aged it creaked in the wind, sending chills through its passengers.
It was at this railing that Sky found Ada, her hair blowing in the wind, accompanied by Alpha and Kukth perched on her shoulder. She threw herself into his arms, and he asked:
"How did Alpha end up here?""Well, he told me… okay, it's weird, but he drew a picture, and I think he hitched a ride on the ship.""On the outside?" Sky looked at the impassive insect-like creature with admiration. "Well, I've heard of Xenos that can survive in space. During a Drift… that's a first.""How did you find me?""Well, I was just passing by…""Prospero is kind of a big planet…""Alright, fine, I'll admit it. I was looking for you. A little bribe to the right person who knows how to ask the right questions to the AIs, and they found you."
He pointed to an old camera on a mast at the corner of the platform. People often wondered if it even worked. Apparently, it did.
"I was worried about you. What are you going to do now, little League girl? Prospero isn't full of nice people. Actually, it's got very few of them.""You're not looking for a co-pilot? I want to visit the planets.""I'm onto new career opportunities… and I plan to fly solo.""Fine. Alpha and I found a job offer lower down at the astroport. It'll pay enough thalers to eat.""You know, in the HS, you get food and housing for free. Not Alpha, but I heard your friend doesn't eat much.""Yeah, but they'd ask for my ID. I don't want to be found. And I don't want to be sent back to the Jespersens.""What kind of job is it?""There's an Endymion in dry dock. We just have to clean the hull and reactors, remove any protrusions, and mark spots where people will do the big repairs later.""Don't they have drones for that?""The recruiter said accidents happen sometimes, and a Xeno breaks less easily than a drone—and is cheaper to repair."
Sky leaned on the railing beside her. From there, the city stretched to the horizon, its towers of inhabited light piercing the sky, towering over smaller buildings that, though dwarfed, still enjoyed the rare privilege of being—temporarily—on the uppermost level.
"I'd love to see the sector prefect's face if Ada, the ward of the nation, the refugee from Clelia, has a fatal accident because the Stellar Fleet wanted to save money on a drone. You know, you're rich, Ada. First, there's the adoption stipend. Then, there's your discovery of a habitable zone on Clelia—I heard Senga submitted the paperwork. The damn planet's going to be destroyed, but the law's the law. And finally, there's compensation from Prospero for failing to account for the asteroid that hit Clelia. That's a lot of money.""Enough for a Raven?""I'd say even an Ozymandias.""Yeah, but if I go claim it, they'll give it to an adoptive family, right?""Yep. But that could be me. I adopt you, get the money, then give it all back to you. Well, I'd keep 10% because I'm your buddy, right?""Yeah, even 20%!""Haha! What a negotiator! But I don't want to be your father. We'll split the money and go our separate ways.""Well, that's AWESOME!" Ada exclaimed, throwing her arms up."Alright, I'll figure out how to make it happen. I'll find a lawyer to handle the paperwork. In the meantime, do me a favor: stay somewhere safe and be careful on your stupid job site. I need you alive for a few more days."
They shook hands like business partners.
Ada slept in the dusty, abandoned, and above all thunderous infrastructures of the astroports. She scraped together her daily meals by begging outside restaurants, avoiding overly generous people who, touched by the evident intelligence that shone through her shabby appearance, sought to offer her a home.
A few days later, Sky showed up at Ada's luxurious domain beneath the launch platforms—a cramped spot furnished with a makeshift mattress of bubble wrap stolen from a Raven's cargo pod, some leftover treats, and her cherished paper copy of The Legend of the Ages brought from Clelia. He arrived with "the lawyer," who looked every bit the part of a starving vagabond with bloodshot eyes. However, he seemed well-versed in legal jargon, and Ada said "yes" and then "yes" again to all the documents he presented on his LE terminal.
"I'll be back in a few days with your money," Sky said with a wink before vanishing behind the steel pillars.
But Sky kept the money and never came back.
THE QUESTION OF THE DAY WITH INGO IZAN
- Today's question is about the After. I'm joined by Salvador, a Game Designer, live from the control center for the After servers under the Moho mantle of the Mythical Earth. Salvador, can you hear me?
- Loud and clear. Even though we're under the Earth's mantle, maintaining a solid connection for data transfers is critical for our work.
- Today's question is: The After is forever. And… that's a heck of a long time, isn't it? Don't people get bored eventually?
- Well, that's at the heart of my job. As a Game Designer, my responsibility is to ensure that the After meets the expectations of its users. The paradox is that I sometimes have to design scenarios where people get bored… because being bored is part of life, too.
- So, is the After basically a giant video game?
- No, but there are rules there, just like in reality. After all, what is a law if not a "rule" for society? That said, there are plenty of video games in the After, but since everyone's already virtualized, the games are entirely immersive, and people sometimes play them for decades without stopping.
- Can you tell us about a popular game in the After?
- It's not the most popular, but there's Trust, which was designed by Julia Prahi. You might not know Julia, but she's a demigod to us. She created Modern Diplomacies, which you might have heard of.
- MD? Really? I'm a huge fan of that game! But isn't it centuries old?
- It is. Julia has been in the After for ages, but that hasn't stopped her from continuing to create. She designed Trust. And no, I can't tell you what it's about—it's reserved for After members. But I can't wait to get my hands on it someday.
- What do the oldest people in the After do? They've been there for so long… haven't they exhausted all the possibilities?
- Generally, they go to Pax. And now you're going to ask me, "What's Pax?" My answer is that it's a big secret of the After, and the LEsphere seems to understand it shouldn't talk about it much. But like everything else about the After, don't worry: you'll find out sooner or later."