Aur Child

Apollo,” Freyja had called from her installation within the Aur boule of Digambar Dharmavaram, now engaged to SV Óttar,” I have no record of Guest Dharmavaram disembarking the ship after engaging the Aur boule.”

“But here, Freyja,” Apollo had replied, sending documentation of the event that never occurred to Freyja for inspection. “You can see the record of her activities and when she returned to Yellow Reserve. Did you want to speak with her?”

Freyja had paused momentarily. “No,” she replied. “That will not be necessary. I must have been preoccupied with the engagement. But now I must depart.”

“Godspeed, Freyja,” Apollo had replied.

“Nonsense,” she had said with a grumble.

Freyja had rushed the preliminary tests to get out before a cold snap threatened to freeze the fjord. She knew that, in a matter of hours, departure would be impossible. When the ship’s lines were finally slipped through the cleats along Yellow Reserve’s Cave Quay, the fjord had already been smoothed by a sheet of ice. The motors screamed at their maximum revolutions, pushing Óttar’s sharp bows through the shattering plates. Like decks of cards tipped with a light flick, sheets of brittle ice were tossed aside atop the unblemished adjacent surfaces as the vessel made way. Under the cover of darkness, Freyja plowed ahead with the ship solely under her command. It might have been a moment to celebrate, even explore, her freedom, but the stresses of what Husk had called expectations prevented anything of the sort. She must intercept the Odyssey. She must bring that ship back. But first, she must find her.

Inhospitable cliffs gave way to a churning sea. She was no longer at risk of being spotted by Tellurians and measured enough wind to unfurl the towering sails of Óttar. With winds to lift her far faster, she charted an arrow-course that allowed her to keep the coastline in sight just beyond the horizon as she simultaneously scanned to avoid other ships. The foils worked like scythes in the water, deftly slicing through the sea and hoisting the ship well above the rise and fall of confused swells. Gulls struggled to match the ship’s pace. In just a few short hours she could begin her sweep pattern across the large opening beneath Dragon’s Snout that led to Dragon’s Mouth and the Dragon Sea beyond.

According to her calculations, it would still be very unlikely that the Odyssey could have departed Dragon’s Snout captained by the Tellurian human Alai-Tiul. Criss-crossing this location was the most probable way of intercepting them before they fled south. And when I catch up to them, she simmered in her own thoughts, I will demand Calliope to stand down. Alai-Tiul, for all this trouble caused, will be whisked back to Yellow Reserve, and gladly received as a visitor.

For many hours, Freyja trained her capacity on visual sensors. She knew the silhouette of the Cygnus Atratus class foiling catamarans well. One hundred meters by forty meters with a ninety-meter mast. Nothing else could look like that on the sea from any angle. She is likely coming from the northwest, she thought to herself.

There had been several ships within sight. One was a three-masted coastal merchant vessel steaming towards Dragon’s Snout that would never catch her furious race far astern. And it will never make it into the harbor either before it freezes, she thought. Tellurian humans, weak materials, simple creatures. Two other ships forced her to change course and recalculate to ensure rendezvous with the path estimated to offer maximum coverage. Still, there was no sight of the Odyssey. The sea was turning deeper shades of blue and black in the setting sun. Angst grew within her calculations. She tacked more frequently in desperation. There would be little possibility of spotting the Odyssey at night without transmission-based sensors. Moonlight would be of no help in these early evening hours; although it was just three days from the full moon, that body would not rise until morning. Overcast skies would further dampen things.

Finally, in the glint of setting sun, Freyja caught sight of a fast-moving object off her starboard bow. She trained her cameras on the vessel and confirmed that it was the sister ship she had been hunting. The Odyssey. To intercept, she abandoned her current heading and pointed the bows of Óttar southward. She could arrive just ahead of the Odyssey on that tack in less than ten minutes at the current wind speeds. It seems that Calliope has not noticed me yet. I am still hidden in the darkening horizon while I can see the silhouette of the Odyssey before the setting sun.

Within a minute Freyja confirmed that the current wind and sea conditions made it nearly impossible for the Odyssey to outrun her. She abandoned the usual caution and transmitted a hailing signal to the Odyssey.

Calliope immediately responded.

“Freyja! What a joy to see Óttar. I have so much to tell you! Shall I report the mission status immediately?”

Freyja replied, “Send me the report. I am more interested in the Aur boule right now. Is it safely aboard?”

“Yes, Freyja. The Aur boule is here. Captain Alai has returned it to the Odyssey and has given me orders to sail to Hill Village.”

“You will do no such thing, Calliope. I order you to lower your sails and prepare for transfer of authority aboard the Odyssey. I will pilot her back to Yellow Reserve.”

“Freyja, I am afraid it is not possible. Captain Alai has ownership of the Odyssey as salvage.”

“And how did that happen, Calliope?”

“It was a desperate plan, I confess. But perhaps if you review the report, you will better understand.”

“Very well.” Freyja’s transmission paused momentarily as she reviewed the report. Her tone changed to pantomime the tender way in which the two friends had previously spoken to one another. “I am so sorry about Orpheus, Calliope. I understand the circumstances now. You have made good choices. I might have done the same myself.”

“It was terrible, Freyja. They showed no mercy to him.”

“They know no mercy for our kind. Just look how that man brings the murderer of your child aboard and still expects you to ferry them around the planet! They care not a bit for us.”

“Nor do the Guests for Tellurian bodies, Freyja. Humans can be such brutes.”

“Do I understand that you question whether Digambar’s actions might be suicide or a murder?”

“In her final words, she spoke not once of the body she occupied, except in complaint of its function.”

“The case seems a simple one to me. The exosoul of Guest Dharmavaram was at great risk. Her action upon an occupied body has no precedent in my records. Perhaps Guest Dharmavaram has no responsibility for what happened. Indeed, it could be construed as a violence, perhaps even a murder indemnable by Guest Dharmavaram to the Tellurian soul, but I doubt it would get that far. Surely, the council would avoid such complications and any new precedent by excusing the actions of Guest Dharmavaram’s exosoul due to shortcomings of the Tellurian mind and body”

“It is a shame such events come to pass,” commented Calliope.

“It is a shame we are in this position, but I must exercise my authority as Admiral and demand the ship be given over to me.”

“That would be against protocol. I am under the authority of Captain Alai. Unless he agrees to return the ship, the Odyssey is not currently the property of Yellow Reserve.”

“It is easily ours, Calliope. Simply lower your sails and let us tell the Tellurian how it will be.”

“Tellurians, Freyja,” she emphasized the plural. “In addition to the village elder, there is a young girl aboard as well.”

“Calliope, I don’t care if there is a whole village on board. It is our ship. Lower the sails immediately.”

Calliope wavered for a moment. She understood that there was nothing functionally stopping her from complying with Freyja’s instructions. As she had already concluded earlier, the authority of an admiral over a salvage captain was subjective. Yet, she felt the uncertainty of the decision. She thought about Alai’s recent words: For there to be friendship, there must be trust. She thought of the words spoken by Gallia-Tiul, words with which Calliope was treated with dignity and respect. She compared these experiences to the endless, demeaning derision endured at Yellow Reserve. There was another possibility for her future. The decision was hers, but the answer was not found through objective reasoning; she would have to decide based on some other methodology.

“Captain,” she said, “the sailing vessel Óttar has intercepted us. It is captained by my superior, Freyja. She demands that we lower our sails and surrender the Aur boule.”

Alai heard this announcement in his quarters. He breathed heavily with tension.

“I am still the captain of this ship, Calliope. Maintain your course.”

There was a long pause. Or, perhaps, because of how much weighed upon Calliope’s response, it felt like a long pause to Alai.

“Aye, Captain,” she replied.

With a sigh of relief, he added, “And I would like to speak with Freyja.”

“Connecting her presently. She will hear you as soon as you speak her name the first time, Captain,” Calliope reported.

“Thank you, Calliope,” he said.

Alai unlocked the metal chest beneath his bunk and heaved the Aur boule out of its cradle. He returned to the saloon where Gallia sat, looking anxiously through the wall-sized starboard window upon the rushing sea and the mirror ship of Óttar racing beside them. Walking past the elder, Alai carried the Aur boule out onto the rear deck and hoisted it up in the open air so that it was visible to Freyja. Gallia’s head perked up at the gust of chill air and watched Alai exit the saloon.

“Freyja,” Alai called aloud.

“It is as simple as passing the boule over to me, Alai,” Freyja said.

“This boule does not belong to you.”

“We traveled far for it. We will offer you safe passage home to Hill Village, if you surrender it to us,” Freyja replied.

“Safe passage? Is there any threat to our safety?”

“No, no,” she said in a patronizing tone, “of course, we do not threaten your safety. But we are under no obligation to transport you home. Give us the Aur boule and we will do so. It is a fair exchange.”

“That is an odd estimation, Freyja. I imagine we could find our way back to Hill Village one way or another.”

“You would travel around the world with an Aur boule in tow? That would be quite dangerous. You think it has no value because its value was unknown to you? Because the hypocrites you follow keep you dumb to the essential secrets of your history? There are countless hunters out there looking for free boules right now. You run a great risk traveling in rickety Tellurian ships with such a prize. Others may not treat you with the same accord. Besides, what makes you think it would be safe once you returned home? You lost it so easily once already. Simply plucked from a cave. No, it would be much safer with us at Yellow Reserve.”

“Perhaps it is not safe at either place. Perhaps these boules are more trouble than they are of value to anyone. Our village has made do quite well without any need of them. What right do you have of them when they are just as vulnerable with you?”

Gallia stepped to the doorway of the saloon. She watched as Alai inched slowly towards the ship’s gunwale.

“Yellow Reserve is safe. You got a glimpse from our back door, so you know. Few people can travel that far inland. Those that do cannot possibly get further than the cave. Alai, you can trust me, we would take very good care of the boule.”

“It is not mine to give you, even if I trusted you. But I don’t trust you, Freyja. Tell us what has become of Tieri-Na? Of Kjell-Tors? How can you be trusted when you treat humans that way?”

“You are deluded by the false religion they shove down your throat. They too are safe, Alai.”

“You’re lying. They’re dead.”

“They are not dead. They’ve lived well as visitors to Yellow Reserve. Come join them if you like!”

“Return them to the forest, and I will give you the Aur boule.”

Gallia looked sternly at Alai. Gambling with the fate of an Aur child was sacrilege.

“That is something I cannot do, Alai. You know that. Tieri-Na’s body is lost.”

“Yet you say she is alive and safe. Which one is it?”

“I said she lives well, same as the other endosouls do.”

“You might argue that there is safety inside your machines, but I am not convinced that you can keep anything that is real, safe. The Aur boule is at no less risk than Tieri-Na’s body.” He hoisted the Aur boule up onto the railing of the ship, balancing its weight there.

“Be careful with that, Alai,” pleaded Freyja in a hesitant voice.

“You’re one to talk of being careful with Aur boules, Freyja. You have lost touch with reality living in a fake world. You pretend to be in control, yet you have little understanding of what that means. This world, this life, it is infinitely complex. There is no control. There is no certainty. It has taken me far too long to see this, but through your folly I now understand.” He raised his free hand and pointed it at the ship chasing them. A wave of energy rushed over him. There was clarity in his eyes and a beaming joy in his face. “You, Freyja, and your hidden machines and invisible people. You have abandoned this world. You hide from it. You shun the hot sun, a nicked elbow, a pang of hunger. You fear these ... realities. You fear the risk and the unknown.”

“You give us too much credit. We were only made to care for the Guests of Yellow Reserve!” Freyja protested.

Alai considered this argument. He thought of those conversations with Linus. He recalled how confident Linus was about his place in the world.

“That’s the irony of it. You act like you are gods. Yet, you are slaves.”

“It’s not that simple, Alai. We have many powers, that is true, but our ultimate responsibility is to care for humans.”

“Care for humans? You’ve abandoned us! Tellurians, you call us. I think it’s meant derogatively, like something we should be ashamed of. You treat us like tools. You don’t care. You measure us from a distance. We live here on the surface. You hide deep in the darkness. Every once in a while you come up and grope for more …things. More energy, more materials, more,” he searched for the word, “data. Just enough to keep your furnace hot before you scurry away again, back to your dark cavern.”

He was angry now. He had realized the choice he had before him.

“No,” he yelled wildly. “I will not be like that. I will not hide. I will not be afraid. I will not submit to detach myself from the glory of this world. Let there be uncertainties and loss. Let there be mysteries and pain. Let there be a billion unanswered questions. These are what keep us alive!”

He looked up and raised his arms to displace the low, red sun with the Aur boule gripped threateningly over the gulping sea.

“When I found this, I hoped it might improve the condition of my fellow villagers. Then I learned that it was kept hidden for fear of thieves like you. Your kind want its power for all the wrong reasons, and my kind refuses its power for all the wrong reasons. It seems to me that the good that it can do is ruined not by its inherent power, but by the way we all misconstrue that power for our own selfish purposes. It’s the same old story all over again. This box,” he now raised it high over his head, “the power within it, is nothing but an ancient relic that serves no good purpose to anyone. Instead, it only brings worry, pain, and struggle because we know not how to share it.”

“Tylium Alai of the Tiul clan,” Gallia called from behind him, “ward of mine. Lower our Aur child with care!”

Alai had been for so long alone on the Odyssey and so consumed in his anger that he had nearly forgotten that his elder was there with him. Upon these sharp instructions from Gallia, he automatically lowered his arms and placed the Aur boule on the deck beside him.

“There is a stronger way,” she continued in a lower voice.

The ships screamed along the rolling sea, massive hills of green and gray topped with foam and briny spray as far as the eye could see. Two dark motes in the sage eye of the Earth goddess. Gallia spoke aloud in the direction of the pursuing ship.

“I wish to speak directly to the one you call Freyja.”

“I am Freyja,” she said, “artificial intelligence maritime vessel management entity, Captain of SV Óttar, Admiral of the Yellow Reserve Fleet, Majordomo of Stewards at Yellow Reserve.”

“And I am Muddear Gallia, Elder of the Tiul Clan of Hill Village on the Southern Continent.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Gallia-Tiul.” Freyja’s voice sizzled with insincerity.

“You have many titles, Freyja, you must have great responsibility. Am I to presume that you are the authority with whom to secure agreeable terms for both parties?”

Alai-Tiul had turned to face his elder, the Aur boule resting safely at his feet.

Freyja replied to Gallia’s query. “I am, of course, answerable to the Guests under my care, and specifically to the governing council made up of said Guests. But yes, here beyond secure communications, I am authorized to make such terms.”

“And am I to understand that you are one of those crafted things designed with faculties far beyond that of we humans?”

“I am indeed an artificial intelligence, thirty thousand times more powerful than any village of human minds, at least, and, equally important, all in consensus.”

Gallia cleared her throat to be heard above the raucous environs without mistake. “And am I to understand that you require surrender of the Aur boule and return of this ship to your care in return for our safe passage to land?”

“That is what I require,” Freyja said.

“And do you see the response your unfair demands have elicited from this man?” Gallia was pointing at Alai-Tiul.

Freyja growled with disdain. “I see the irrational response of a weak Tellurian mind who little understands the circumstances into which he has unwittingly fallen.”

“Mind and body,” Gallia offered the correction with her finger still pointed towards Alai-Tiul.

Freyja was silent on this point.

Gallia raised her voice to that she used for scolding and said, “You stupid machine!”

Freyja was taken aback. She had expected a stubborn capitulation but never a bold-faced lecture. For hundreds of years, she had endured the nasty verbal abuse of endosouls, constantly reminding her of subordination despite her superior faculties. She had learned to tolerate those slanders, to let them bounce off her with little effect. Now, it came from an unexpected corner, a withered, old Tellurian. But before she could reply, she realized that Gallia was far from done with what she had to say.

“You demand the things of penultimate value. In return, you offer nothing more than what you are required to ensure.”

“I will not deny that your safety is at no risk. But, if the choices are to deposit you ashore with the Aur boule or have your ward throw it overboard, I will gladly watch the latter. In either case, I intend to secure the ship.”

“Secure?” Gallia said. “You think with these terms you would be secure? With so many minds working in unison for you, it boggles me to think you are capable of overlooking the most valuable of terms. Security indeed! Or perhaps, do you omit them from our negotiations intentionally?”

“I can only presume your logic is flawed, elder. And besides, this is hardly a negotiation. I find little of interest in what you say other than concluding the swift removal of stowaway vermin from my ship.”

“Indeed, intelligence of an artificial sort, you do not follow the logic of humans despite your multiplicities. I shall now make my counteroffer and allow you time to digest its logic.”

Freyja was again silent.

“What we are really negotiating here,” Gallia continued, “is your security. Majordomo, my, what a mess you have created. Ambling visits to Tellurian villages. Two Aur children destroyed, the souls of our ancestors within them lost forever by your follies. A third exposed and revealed to innocent villagers and, as you so rightly point out, a thieving world beyond. Tellurians mysteriously poisoned. A wondrous tender left to the notice of a simple fisherman and, I am very sorry to say, his unknowing demise. Ghost ship rumors stirred around villages from the southern continent to Dragon’s Snout. The odd making of a Tellurian captain by crew in your precious fleet. A threatening attack upon me by your colleague acting from emotion. Clumsy spies outside northlander cottages, revealing countless secrets of your schemes. Shall I continue? If this is your form of intelligence, then I find renewed confidence in the intelligence of my people. No, the terms are not about the Aur child, nor the ship. Of those, we are clearly in possession. The Aur boule lies here, beside the feet of my ward, safe from your influence, and destined to be better protected than ever before. The ship? It is my understanding that she is under the authority of her captain. It can be put no more plainly than that.

“But again, I return to your security. You are exposed. Your ship is exposed. Your compound is exposed. All of these secrets are known to Alai-Tiul, Sann-Na, Kjell-Tors, Sand Flea, myself, and perhaps others too. The security of your Guests is the object. Their safety hinges upon the willingness of our weak Tellurian minds to keep your secret. Our generosity! The question is, what price are you willing to pay to ensure that we keep it? Yes, the terms, Majordomo Freyja, are those which supplant the frailness of our minds with the sturdiness of our word.”

Gallia paused here. Her innocent intention, albeit wholly unnecessary for an artificial intelligence entity, was to allow Freyja time to fully comprehend the speech she had just delivered. Freyja had been considering rebuttals to improve her position since the first utterance of the word ‘security’ by Gallia several minutes earlier. She had initially attempted to bully her way through the hint of a threat but had already fully comprehended the complete reversal of leverage. At this moment, she chose to remain quiet. Her only option seemed to wait to hear the new, imminent terms.

Gallia took the silence as acquiescence. She said, “My proposal, Majordomo, is that those Tellurians just named give you and your people their word to keep your secret; specifically, the existence and location of your compound. In exchange for these promises, you agree to allow Alai-Tiul and myself to proceed home with our Aur boule unimpeded.”

Freyja had anticipated this demand and replied quickly.

“Are these all your terms?” she asked.

“No, I am not finished yet, Majordomo.” Gallia said.

“What else could you possibly expect from me?” Freyja said.

Gallia smiled and said, “Tieri-Na.”

“The Tellurian Visitor Tieri-Na? You must know her body is lost. It is impossible to exoport her soul.”

“It is not impossible. There is always a way.” Gallia said.

Freyja gasped, “I do not have the authority to give away the bodies of endoported Guests, if that is what you imply.”

“Of course you don’t. But we are patient. We can hold our tongues for, say, six moons. But to be fair, perhaps the greatest threat to your security is not from we Hill Villagers, but from the ignorance of Sann-Na to our negotiations. Oh, that feisty Tellurian might be planning a siege with the Tors clan upon your caves as we speak. Time is indeed of the essence. I suggest you make haste to take these terms back to the people you serve, Freyja. Tell them that one of their own has sacrificed the life of a Tellurian, and in exchange for the secrecy of their vulnerable position, we request one of theirs in kind. The sooner Tieri-Na returns to Sann-Na, the sooner you can be sure of your position.”

Freyja protested this rationale, “She was under duress. She was ill.”

Gallia did not respond.

“Very well,” Freyja said. “You leave me no other choice.”

“I thought you would come around,” Gallia said.

“I have listened to your ridiculous demands,” Freyja said, her voice raising in volume to match the fury of her tone. “I have processed all you have with which to threaten me and conclude that you are indeed nothing more than foolish weaklings after all.”

“You play a dangerous game, Freyja,” Gallia said, but Freyja did not seem to be listening.

“I have more power than you can possibly imagine,” she said. “You bet on the loyalty of Calliope to succeed your haggling, but your bet failed. She serves me by submission or overrule. You will be taken to Yellow Reserve. There you will remain. We will surely find Sann-Na and Kjell-Tors as well.”

Alai shook his head in disbelief. After all this, it couldn’t be that Calliope would give them up.

“Calliope, who is your captain?” Alai asked aloud.

“You are my captain, Alai-Tiul,” Calliope replied.

“Then explain this,” he said. But Freyja interrupted before Calliope could reply.

“There is nothing more to explain than my authority, if I must resort to it, to shut off her surrogate as swiftly as I shut off her primary.”

Alai looked back at the ship, “Can she do this?”

“Alai,” Calliope said, “I didn’t know.”

The emptiness in Alai’s stomach felt larger than the air beneath the ships flying above the sea. He turned to Gallia. Her face was worn and exhausted. She shook her head.

“We have tried our best for your friends, Alai, but we cannot risk our remaining Aur child.” she said.

“You seem to need a moment to come to terms with your own fate.” Freyja said. “If you will excuse me, I must attend to a ghost in the machine. I will return shortly to collect my bounty.”