The Vostok Revelation

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

January 2339. 0300. Utopia City.

Environmental Administration building rooftop.

Ian Sanderson crouched atop the roof of the Environmental Administration building, the nearest building that was tall enough to offer line of sight on the obelisk in Unity Square. His body encased in the newly printed color and shade adaptive lizard suit, he focused his virtual reality lenses on the obelisk far below, enlarging the object standing six-hundred meters away.

An hour ago, only minutes after he was given the nearly impossible task to somehow attach a monitoring device on the obelisk, he received an encrypted transmission that activated his contraband substance printer. Within an hour, along with the lizard suit, a wispy-thin material which when worn, he was assured, would render him invisible to all electronics and the human eye, the printer constructed a single narrow forty centimeter long ribbon. The milky ribbon, when rolled into a cylinder, would serve as the organic grafting round for the single-use gauss rifle he would need to print from his private blueprint inventory.

Despite the moderately claustrophobic annoyance of being fully covered by the thin material, Ian made it to his perch atop the Environmental Administration rooftop, picking several locks and blatantly strolling silently past several guards and dozens of security cameras, in less than thirty minutes.

With a thought he adjusted his VR contacts to provide a targeting scope. The round already in its chamber, knowing that his rifle would incinerate seconds after the electrical impulse to fire the round occurred; he aimed, took a breath and slowly began to exhale.

January 2339. 0305. Utopia City. Parade Courtyard.

The entity identified a human on the roof of a nearby building. The human had weapon. The weapon was magnetic. Its round was ninety seven percent organic material and three percent synthetic. The entity determined that the weapon and its payload was harmless. The projectile would impact its surface and prevent the synthetic component from entering its mass.

The entity registered a surge in power from the rooftop. A moment later the projectile struck its mass. As determined, the projectile splattered against its mass without any degree of penetration.

A slight indication of intense heat was registered where the human was and then it was gone. The human re-entered the building and began its descent.

January 2339. 0500. Utopia City. Parade Courtyard.

Long nanoscopic wrinkles formed across the Obelisks surfaces. Slowly tens of thousands of invisible tendrils extended down to the bandstand and began snaking in every direction across the cement walking paths and grass landscaping, seeking out and following electrical currents and the light impulses running through Utopia City’s extensive optical cable network. The nanoscopic vines located whatever openings they could find and using exiting conduits, piping and wiring harnesses weaved their way through the superstructures and lower decks of Utopia City. Slowly, almost immeasurably, as the tendrils permeated deeper and deeper into the City.

January 2339. 0600. Utopia City. Director Serrano’s Private Quarters.

Josefa Serrano awoke the chime of an incoming message. Still groggy, she knew that the call was a status update on the entity. Secretly though, in spite of herself, should preferred that the call be from the man who had shared her bed almost every night over the last few weeks. While she held a nagging feeling that Ian Sanderson was allowing his body to be used for political gain, she couldn’t help but feel a degree of attachment to the man.

Josefa cleared her throat. “Accept.”

“Director Serrano, you asked to be informed of any change in the status of the pillar.”

Having slept soundly and in dire need of a hot shower, with closed eyes she asked, “What has happened?”

“Madam Director, over night the object appears to have shrunk.”

“Shrunk?”

“Yes. Laser measurements taken this morning indicate that the pillar is one millimeter shorter than it was when it first set down on Utopia City.”

Mengal

The aged Ka’Na Portus stood watching the characters hovering above the diamond shaped black console as they raced by. While he could not read the ancient tongue, he knew that tremendous amounts of information were flooding in from the Conduit on Vasundhara. This information would provide the Emperor with a much better understanding of the welfare of the children of the survivors of Anatarnahs, the volcanic unrest that threatened humanity’s extinction and necessitated its migration and the settlement of Mengal.

Soon, perhaps even in his lifetime, the Emperor would reclaim their homeworld and reunite the children of the survivors with their older brothers.

“Advisor Portus, what have you for me today?”

“Progress, my Emperor. You have been receiving a constant stream of information from Vasundhara for several hours.”

Emperor Bharata shouldered past Ka’Na and stood before the console. For several seconds he studied the rows of blurred characters racing past. Pleased, he again moved his adviser with a bump and walked to another console.

One government, one primary language for all business and government, one leader ruling over ten billion people in 213 countries, each with their own local government and representation in the global government. Xi perused the words that slowly scrolled across the screen. Single element and electrical transportation and power methods, limited void exploration and industry. Xi opted to manually enter his queries. Ten billion lives and only a token contingent of law keepers? They haven’t migrated past the fourth planet? They have no warships in the void to defend them from the unknown? They do not manipulate the light spectrum? They open the body to make repairs? They have many beliefs and most revere life? The scouts and sentinel were able to explore at will, without interference? All this time has passed and humanity has not even achieved even a fraction of what it once had.

“Rth,” he said aloud.

“Master, did you say something?” Ka’Na asked timidly.

Instead of immediately answering, Xi’s fingers moved quickly across the holographic console. After several seconds he looked to his adviser, “I did. I think it’s time to open communication with my people on Vasun… Rth.”

“Rth?”

“Yes, that is what the descendants of the survivors of Anatarnahs are now calling Vasundhara.”

“It’s a very crude and inelegant sounding name, if I may say so my Lord.”

“You may, and I agree.” Emperor Bharata returned to manipulating the holographic console, immediately sending orders to his Conduit on Rth.

“It is time to meet my children.”