1. Before the Transfer¶
Written June 6th, 2023
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The tunnels of Omuen 6 might be safe from the biting winds, but they were by no means a place humans wanted to be. An ice storm raged 10 meters above, and according to the weather stations it would be like this for another eight rotations. The lighting underground was set to a Galactic Day of exactly 24 hours, and Omuen 6 has a rotational period of about 36 hours, giving it quite a different appearance above ground sometimes.
Cold didn’t bother Casey, though he did understand the temperature around him. In order to do survey work above ground, about half of the entire base’s 532,586 residents were Simulacra: human minds transferred to mechanical bodies. This was a popular choice given the line of work for frontier scientists, the hazardous locations either necessitated massive suits to combat the pre-terraforming environment or the use of unwieldy drones. Still with human minds, they couldn’t be copied without ‘shutting down’ the previous host, making them only really used in the frontier for legal reasons. Bipedal and human shaped with obvious mechanical parts, some chose to have a human face mask if they were regularly interfacing with non-Simus, but a lot of researchers kept the standard protective shell-and-sensor look.
Casey had a custom face designed with custom flexible plastics to maintain a better approximation of a human face. It required maintenance but for the people he interacted with it was worth it. A couple hours a month of 3d printer time spent on the face seemed worth it.
“This storm is getting better, the last few months our terraforming stations have helped make at least the equator a bit more habitable lately.” Walking beside Casey was his counterpart in the analysis team, Ellie Bates. Still fully human, Ellie only really worked on the theoretical side of things, sitting inside meant she didn’t have to deal with the true cold of this world. “Even down here it gets frigid.” Ellie shivered in her massive parka. “The inorganic joints you Simus have must be complaining.”
“Yeah, cold is still cold regardless.” Nothing special had been found on the planet, scientists were mostly busy manning the terraforming stations and gathering samples from around the equator, as well as testing extreme condition materials. Just a few hundred km south the winds and temperature would only cause frostbite after a minute, not instantaneously, making it a bit less inhospitable and a good benchmark for how the planet’s terraforming had come along.
The underground tunnel came to an end and both scientists keyed into the colony’s research facility. Multiple underground stories, the top floor lobby was massive. The United Systems didn’t spare much when it came to research and lab facilities, and the interior showed. The main, central building to the whole colony was about a whole square kilometer of flooring per story. Inside it was furnished with fake wood and metal fixtures to warm up the brutalist interior. Through the interior glass walls scientists could be seen analyzing less hazardous samples and filling out reports. On this floor most were humans, and it contained less dangerous experiments and materials. Below were the more dangerous tasks, many performed by teams consisting solely of Simulacra like Casey.
Surrounding the research facility were the living quarters, food, businesses, underground farms and manufacturing facilities. It was, though somewhat cold, a relatively comfortable place for a frontier base. Compared to earlier designs, the power and infrastructure setups had been vastly improved, with better temperature controls and thermal engineering inside the buildings, reducing failures as well as improving comfort. Expansion wasn’t really a thought, the small growth in population that the colony experienced year to year was easily taken care of with the current overbuilt facilities. Food, required for half of the residents, was largely shipped in, though the farms below had begun to offset the requirements slightly.
8 Days Later¶
Finally, this damn storm is subsiding.
The sheer ferocity of the surface storms meant the ships orbiting with supplies had to wait to send anything down to the surface. Concrete structures were okay, but anything not tethered–even heavy vehicles–were liable to be swept away, frozen or both. Even the most modern air- and space-craft had no way to deal with these storms and were simply grounded in the hangar facilities dotting the surface of the research base.
Supplies are coming at last. We are on the last of our food. Any longer and this storm could have brought our base to an end.
The ships above were filling with ice, valuable material for the interstellar ships used to traverse the galaxy, and they would return laden with copious amounts of fresh food, some prefabricated systems and a couple personnel this time. Specialists to help analyze some findings in real time.
“Tower to Ship Zero Three Nine, cleared for take-off.”
“Zero Three Nine lifting off. See you soon, Tower.”
With all the supplies waiting for them in orbit it might be another three earth months before they saw another interstellar resupply.
“Tower, we’re seeing something odd up here. The supply ships…They were right on our trajectory? Confirm.”
“Confirmed. Resupply should be…Hold that.”
Listening to the transmission, Casey had a sudden feeling of dread. Had the Corporations decided this was the time to take this world? No, there’s no way. We’re on a block of ice 140 light years from civilized space. Until that distance was shortened, the corpos were just here to watch us and keep us on our toes.
“Tower, you’re not going to believe this, but I see…oceans.”
Casey stood up. No. The terraforming had only started ten years ago, they shouldn’t be seeing any melted ice this early. Something’s not right. Maybe the ships are having sensor problems? Did someone hack the ship’s ocular feed? It had been done before to cover up corpos around their colony and terraforming facilities, but to show an ocean?
“They’re real. Good gods, they’re real oceans. And there’s green. I haven’t seen green land for a decade. John, look out the port side hatch…”
Another voice chimed in, quieter, obviously further from the mic. The pilot had forgotten his radio discipline completely.
“Holy shit. Did we terraform it that fast? There’s no way.”
“Confirmed. We have detected them too. The temperature here is still dangerously low, but I’d wager that it’d take minutes to get frostbite now. That kind of shift shouldn’t be possible.”
Casey rushed to the north exit of the base, as the southern one had been locked in by ice during the storm. His temperature sensors in the caves weren’t telling him anything different, but as soon as he stepped outside, he knew.
This…isn’t Omuen 6.
As others walking near the exit looked out in passing, they noticed it too. The frigid wind coming in was significantly less deadly on their exposed faces. The Simulacra’s temperature sensors were going wild. People and machines slowly lumbered towards the door, not really understanding what was going on.
Through the communications link Casey was still listening in on the air to ground communications.
“The magnetic compasses, they’re not working as expected. We’re not in the right place if the base is only at 10 degrees north. It’s showing that we took off from almost 80 degrees.”
“Confirming. Spin characteristics seem different, as well as the stellar location. Constellations aren’t the same as they usually are. We’ve got a totally different orbital and rotational period, axial offset, everything.”
This is unreal. There’s no way.
“Tower, this is Casey. Ready the survey craft to scout around. Have the supply ships dump the ice. I’m sending survey teams in every direction. I’ll be on the next one up.”
This is going to be an interesting flight. Flight 039 was still reporting crazy stuff from their station of near orbit, but their photography reports will be limited, and they are obviously not getting any samples from up there.
Flight 040: Over the Ocean¶
With a crew full of Simulacra, the large cargo doors were left open to gather cross-check the ship’s visual data. Even without actual eyes, none of the passengers could believe what they were seeing. A massive ocean was spread out below them. Sensor packages were being dropped at regular intervals into the water, repurposed from the ice probes they used prior.
At least to the magnetic south, there seemed to be no ice, but over the base and up north there still existed massive sheets of ice. Swaths of greenery lined the nearby southern landmasses. Not just brown dirt from the melted ice but actual grass and trees and plants.
One of the ships had gone into low orbit and was astonished that the planet looked nothing like the expected tectonic layout of Omuen 6. It seemed to be about the same size, but rotated much faster and was getting much more stellar radiation. Their star twas an F class main sequence star, and the planet was spinning right in the center of the Goldilocks zone. Everything looked primed for a habitable world that needed no terraforming whatsoever. Now it was just a problem of examining the native flora and fauna. The base was equipped for this, but all the equipment would need to be fabricated or dusted off.
Even in the sky there were no traces of unnatural satellites, just a pair of moons, one large and close to the planet, the other barely caught by the planet’s gravity. And now the survey ship is flying out there as well, laying out standard positioning and communication satellites in a hasty web.
Wherever we are, it’s no longer the Omuen system at all. But how?
“Sir, we have radio signals from below, but they don’t match anything the corpos would be using.”
Central Calendar, Day 8 Month 12 1639, Vauxnia Islands¶
On an almost uninhabited archipelago north of the Mu continent, near the third civilization zone there exists only a single minor village on the largest island. The discovery of oil deposits had helped them advance slowly but surely and also remain independent, and the rugged, dangerous terrain and harsh winter weather had kept out most invaders for centuries.
With a population of only a few hundred it was a quiet existence for the inhabitants. Small ships moved oil out to Mu, creating a small but useful trade route for the island.
Inside the small port town of Vauxnia was the small oil ship that the islanders had purchased from Mu. Mostly wood in its construction, it contained metal cisterns specially made for this purpose, much smaller versions of the massive tanks they sent to move oil around from the sea deposits around Mu’s coast. Having traded with Mu, almost everyone knew their technology and was in awe of it. Small bits and pieces made it to the island on the boat on the return trip, helping the residents live a relatively comfortable life.
Life moved pretty slowly here. Farmers were working hard to maintain their barns and livestock during the winter, large storage silos containing enough grain for the island to get through a couple winters. Everything was relatively peaceful here.
As noon hit, the villagers noticed a buzzing noise far in the distance. At first the residents thought it was a test of a Mu aircraft, possibly even one from the Holy Mirishial Empire. They had been known to test long distance flights up this way, flying over the island for safety. But something was different about this noise. As it came closer, the peace they had known would be shattered.