Chapter 144: (Dreams) (2/2)
It depressed her to see. Here and there she could see faint graffiti from decades gone by, the colors washed out and muted by sun and weather and time.
It started raining, drizzling, and she queried her implant link at the same time as she activated the weather shielding on the hover disk.
There was no connection to the planetary network and she was still within the old borders of the city.
It was just abandoned.
She honestly wondered if the weather control systems worked any longer.
”Is there anything near us?” Dreams asked her escorts.
A panel opened up on Pinion's back and an antenna array deployed. It swept the surroundings a few times then retracted.
”No. Nothing more than small mammalian vermin, some large insects, and a few omnivore mammals and avians,” Pinion rumbled. ”No power, no electronic emissions, no sign of technological advancement outside of the plascrete buildings.”
Rack's array finished scanning and vanished back into the panel in his back. ”While there are multiple satellites in reach, all of them are offline. Most are on solar and battery backup, their reactors are dead, but there's one or two still functioning.”
Dreams shook her head, the rain hissing on the broken and shattered pavenment.
”If you were scouting this world for military purposes, what would be your decisions?” Dreams asked.
”A dying world, inhabited by a dying race. They failed the Genomic Alteration Filter and without assistance will go extinct within a few hundred years,” Pinion said.
”This world, except for its location, would have no strategic military value. It's not even worth planet-cracking,” Rack added. ”Any easily accessible resources will have been already extracted.”
”And the people?” Dreams asked. The wind moaned through the abandoned and empty buildings.
They were both silent for a long time. ”They are a few generations from return to primitiveness. If their genome is locked then they will dwindle away, if their genome is still capable of being altered by evolutionary pressures than they will undoubtedly either evolve into a non-sapient form or somehow become reinvigorated,” Pinion said. ”With geological instability missing and the old continental fault-lines no longer active, it is doubtful that any new sentient life will have access to resources to assist their social and cultural evolution.”
Dreams sighed, watching the leaves shiver from the rain falling from the sky.
”They are considered a fully Civilized race by the Unified Species Council,” she said softly.
”Without assistance, they will be gone forever from the galaxy soon,” Rack rumbled. ”They will need a crash program to save their people.”
The only sound for a long time was the wind, the rain, and the humming of the hover-disc.
At the edge of the city, as fuzzy as it was, was a vast forest. The trees loomed up hundreds of feet tall, assisted by the low gravity and deep soil.
”Life forms approaching, targeting systems online, automatic defenses online,” Rack said.
”Keep your guns holstered, boys,” Dreams said. She made sure that the hover-disc wouldn't react as she slowly drifted to a stop between two large trees.
The Vuknaraan that approached were almost unrecongizable from the ones she had met in the city, in the Senate. Their fur was dyed, they wore bark and woven plant fiber clothing, and they all carried spears.
”What do you here?” one asked, her implant switching modes to decipher their language.
”I am Dreams of Something More, a diplomat from TerraSol and the Terran Confederacy of Aligned Systems,” Dreams said, pulling her donorcycle chain and switchblade out.
There was murmuring between the Vuknaraan and Dreams waited.
”Who metal things?” the same one asked.
”My escorts to ensure no violence is done to me. Their names are Rack and Pinion,” Dreams said carefully. ”They are Terran inside their metal.”
Again, whispering. Her implant was picking up a lot of their body language, the diplomatic protocol software working overtime. She could see that the one speaking wasn't the leader but rather the leader's voice. She could see bits and pieces of shiny technology held on thin braided cords. The chief/leader had a robot head on a rope hanging off his neck and a sword made from ground down and engraved armaglass.
Barely out of the city and their people have already returned to primitivism, she thought to herself. Their people are dying. Not by the sword, not from the gun, but from inside.
Their hearts have been stolen, she heard the line from a movie.
”Why come?” the voice of the chief asked.
”I wanted to see what was outside of the city,” Dreams said. ”I had no intent of violating any taboos or holy laws.”
More discussion.
”You must go. Back to the bad place. Only the people may be here,” the speaker said.
All of the Vuknaraan lowered their spears, two put tension on bowstrings.
As I suspected, the gold mantis thought to herself. She gave a stilted but formal bow and slowly turned around the hover-disc.
Back into the city, she felt like was in an eVR historical documentary sim. Block by block the city showed more life, but the streets were still empty. Just more lights on, just traffic signals that worked, less and less plant life.
When she got back she checked on Mr. Rings, touched base with all of her diplomatic mission, then settled down in the sand bowl, folding her legs beneath her.
What she had seen worried her.
Even the Terrans could be beaten with that type of warfare.
Gentling they call it, she thought to herself. More like murder by slow suffocation.