Chapter 22

  The Delegation

  “Nothing good happens when you have a random foreign delegation appear. Nothing truly gets accomplished then. Their presence is all PR to hide the fact that the deals have already been agreed to in the back, or soon will be accomplished.” -Marcon on Foreign Delegates

  Pulsing.

  All night there was a strange pulsing of energy coursing through her body, warning her to awaken.

  Only after a moment of sitting and mentally scanning her environment for the sudden source of disturbance did she find the origination point.

  Finally, she realized that the reason she felt the pulse at all was that it was something touching her.

  In fact, looking around, she could see a faint blue hue of light forming from just under her shirt. Only a second later did she realize that the source of the light was the seemingly dormant orb. An orb that belonged to her father.

  Then to her confusion, she saw that the star map was moving.

  Why it was moving, or better still how it was moving remained a mystery.

  Honestly, Arla had never given too much thought to the fact that the final resting place for her apparent AI Legacy could in fact move.

  This ultimately generated more questions than answers.

  Some would assume that an AI Legacy, particularly one with a linked star map would be buried.

  But for the location to move, it required a lot of components.

  First, the fact that the AI Legacy could move at all implied that it had either been found by someone else, or was possibly part of a vessel that was stranded on a planet and now began to move? There were so many factors as to why the AI Legacy could move, that they were almost impossible to incapsulate them all at this time.

  The second thing that this clear movement and warning of movement indicated, was that the AI Legacy in question was somehow able to communicate with this orb. Meaning, this was not a stationary map, but an interactive location finder, one with a relay system.

  It was the latter part that intrigued Arla the most.

  The idea that if this device could communicate with the AI Legacy, at least enough to relay galactic locational data, then what else could be transmitted?

  Theoretically, if she could get the AI Legacy to consent, she could get the AI Legacy to transmit itself to her in packets of data no larger than a moving galactic-locational burst. This might be possible, but would likely require one AI Legacy to commit the equivalent of virtual suicide once a fully functioning clone was assembled. That or risk two competing AI Legacies, both vying for life.

  No, the best course of action would be to try to understand why the Legacy would be moved now of all times.

  However, after thinking about the map and the constant movement of heavenly bodies, it should have been apparent that tracking the movement of the AI Legacy was possible.

  Without the ability to track a Legacy, how could one predict the exact location of the device? Unless set to a set of constantly running star chart modules, as those were prone to enhanced error rates over time.

  Logically, if Arla was to do the same, she would not go with the star chart modules, or if she would, then she would have a wake-up beacon protocol in place to allow for momentary updates, once the location beacon came back online.

  Working the problem backwards helped Arla get to the likely conclusion.

  What she had seen originally, well she and Dr. Lemishov had seen originally was the known location of where the AI Legacy should have been. Now though, with her awakening her orb, the message likely went out to the location, found nothing. Then sent out follow up beacons, only to now find that the AI Legacy had in fact moved.

  Just knowing that her father, her biological father, would not have made the rookie mistake of relying on star chart modules, but built in a tracking beacon of some kind made her feel more connected to her father in ways she never knew.

  It felt oddly assuring that her father was not at least a complete moron. Also, the fact that the AI Legacy beaconed back seemed to imply that it was not controlled or operated by the owner, as it still reached out for its owner.

  At least, that is what Arla assumed.

  There was more data, for the pulse that she just received showed that the vehicle transporting the orb had travelled over 74 quintillion miles since the last update 24 hours ago. Further implying that the data had been on an assumed automatic update, until beacons were sent.

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  This put the Legacy far closer, in the nearby Gammes Cluster.

  Realizing how close she was, Arla almost felt like screaming. It was so close, with a Legacy, she might not be need to go through her full time in the military. For the Legacy could help prove both her lineage, and any wealth that was accrued would obviously be taxed. You can’t tax someone that is not a citizen, meaning if the government wanted their thirty percent cut of her inheritance, then she would need to be made legal. This is exactly what Dr. Juric was harping on about in Cerusian during his lecture.

  Suddenly the idea of going to Dr. Juric’s class didn’t seem as annoying.

  With her second avenue to citizenry now open, a second method for declaring her legitimacy, Arla felt some of the tension she had been dealing with leave her.

  This wasn’t her one and only chance to make it. If this didn’t work out, then she could always put together a ship, track down the AI Legacy and claim her birthright that way.

  Honestly, this was the best news she had in a while.

  Nothing was handed to her, she would still have to work for her citizenry, regardless of which way she went, but she had options. Options that were obtainable, so long as she pushed herself.

  Feeling the comfort of the gentle energy being released by her orb, Arla clasped it in her hand, darkening the room around her.

  With the room now darkened, and her mind able to rest easier, she found sleep take her quickly.

  ***

  “Just a reminder, there is an all-hands assembly this morning. That means go shower, change, eat, and be prepared to hear from the commandant of this very Academy that is housing you, training you, and making you into a respectable person.” The Instructor called out, as the final marker of their morning workout.

  That was how Arla’s morning began, or at least the start of her morning began.

  While the message was ominous, it quickly turned around by her notifications going wild.

  Ding.

  Ding. A-ding, ding, ding.

  Sometime during her morning, but after her morning workout, her payments slowly began to make their way through to her.

  Seeing the messages for Health Care payments being received, filtered, and used to buy new and fake supplies made Arla feel? Well, she didn’t know how she felt.

  There was clearly a marked improvement in the way the others treated her, as they were no longer as seemingly openly hostile towards her or other classmates.

  That said, it was clear that there was clearly an addiction and high related component to the S-Ranker’s emotional states. The males were also cranky, but not as visibly cranky, at least not to Arla. Though she did notice that they seemed to have less inhibitions as time went on, staring and ogling at their fellow soldiers, as they ran past.

  Nothing overtly hostile, but definitely unwanted.

  Still, Arla could not complain. The payments cleared, nothing overtly was happening, and life was moving on. As far as Arla was concerned there were no true concerns, at least not yet.

  This was also a good reminder for her to start going and creating more of the orbs for the next supply run. So many things to do.

  These were the thoughts that Arla had, as she made her way towards the assembly point. While Wednesdays were often the day for such announcements, this one seemed off.

  It was hard to tell why, at first.

  There were a few key details that seemed to stand out. The way all the officers were wearing their dress uniforms, their Class-As. The way the carpet and lighting seemed to have finally been dusted. That or maybe these were the new ones that were finally being taken out of the packaging for the first time, a fact that was more likely as there was clearly a fold that came from using the rugs the first time.

  Those were just the obvious markings, there were other more subtle indications that something big was happening. The way the officers gave everyone side long glances, the way they nervously shifted about in their postures, all showed the tell-tale signs of nerves.

  Everything all pointed to one of two things, in her mind Arla assumed it was a formal military inspection. Likely, an inspection conducted either by a Military bigwig, or by a representative of the military bigwig, who would no doubt have to be accompanied by a civilian counterpart who gave a line-item inspection. The first meeting was for the military, to make sure we were meeting true military standards. The second one would mean we were being effectively audited, to ensure taxpayer credits were being spent appropriately.

  The first option was bad, but the second option was worse.

  With the first option, it was clear that we would be forced to comply with regulations, focus on fitness and training efforts. With the latter, it could be anything from wanting to hear our morals, how loyal we were to the federation, etcetera. They were both headaches, but each a unique and different kind of headache. The kind that would likely impact the way the rest of this week played out.

  For the moment, Arla decided to hold off on production of her enhancement pills. For the time being, she knew that security would be high, and that restocking would be a pain with so many eyes now watching for any signs of disturbance. No, best to wait, and do it later when no one can find out.

  These were the thoughts flowing through Arla’s mind, until the commandant spoke.

  “Greetings cadets. We wanted to thank you all for attending today, as we know you will all have busy class schedules designed to help keep your minds active and engaged, so you can serve the Federation. Not just as soldiers, but as fully functioning and capable people. People who will help produce change in the future.”

  Hearing the words, Arla mentally noted that this would be the civilian inspection.

  Then looking to the Commandant’s right, her left, she saw two figures. One a Lt Admiral standing next to a Civilian.

  Judging by the rank of the officer sent as an escort, it was clear that this civilian was very important.

  From this distance it was impossible for Arla to make out any true features of the woman, other than she had chestnut colored hair, and either fake or baked bronze tannish skin that came from a planetary system with poor melanin protection. Even from this distance, it was clear the girl wore an excessive amount of makeup, the kind that won’t run or smear despite perspiration levels. There were even signs of bangs, though Arla just hoped she was mistaken in that assessment.

  “In the coming weeks, we will have some very important guests coming. So as a matter of course, we will have Ms. Adamma Karens here walk you through what to expect. Also, know that for the next two weeks, everyone will be going through Cerusian awareness and sensitivity training courses. For those of you already in the Cerusian track for your chosen language, then know you will likely see a lot more people in the coming weeks,” The Commandant concluded as he gestured for the civilian to take center stage.

  “Hello, thank you Commander, I am Ms. Adamma Karens,” she said with a forced giggle and thick accent. The type of accent that was meant to sound bubbly and caring, but often came across as anything but, when you truly matched their words to their mannerisms. “I just wanted to say that it is just a pleasure to be here today, to tell you all about the new Cerusian peace delegation that will be coming.”

  She paused at that point, giving time for her words to sink in.

  “That’s right, the Cerusians have once again opened up lines of communication with us, and will be sending a platoon of their own troops and leaders here to learn from us,” she began, her words laced with poisoned honey as she spun this as sweetly as possible.

  Still despite hearing her words, Arla could only imagine why the sudden shift. Why would they suddenly change their perspectives, now?

  “It is also clear that they are looking at taking a handful of our best and brightest,” she paused and then pointed to the entire audience, “which is you all of course, along with members from the other Academies. Every one of the great Academies will have at least one or more representative chosen to truly learn from our Cerusian counterparts. We have even brokered the idea that some of you might be able to be taught how to use Cerusian Magic, though I’m pretty sure that is not the correct way to explain their powers.” The cultural liaison said.

  The more she spoke, the more it was clear to Arla why the Cerusians had avoided humanity, especially if this was the person sent by the Federation to help raise awareness.

  That said, it was clear that the so-called students who would be sent here to learn would be nothing more than spies.

  Badump, badump, badump.

  But with the delegation coming, and new signs that her AI Legacy were on the move, Arla couldn’t help but wonder if there was some form of connection between the two.

  And like that, what had been a momentarily stable environment was suddenly shaken on its head, as for the next two to three months, everything would be scrutinized heavily.

  Also, it was clear that Arla would likely need to do something about her supplies to the other S-Rankers, lest they all get outed at the same time.

  This was going to be interesting, Arla thought to herself. She also wondered, why they would suddenly come now? What had they learned to change their minds about integrating with humanity?

  “With that, there are a few more housekeeping notes that we would like to address, namely…”