(transcript) Episode 3.6 (Patreon)

Hello world, I've found them!

MISSION DAY: 0xffff

I've found The Council's search party!
I must have!
My new satellite friend, KATE, relayed a series of images of Geneva and the surrounding desert to me, and I've been cataloguing it.
It seems all of the old city is in ruin,
with a long line of abandoned vehicles on the north road out of town, along the side of the now-dry lake valley.
It's very difficult to see much detail.

However, in the shade of a large derelict building,
a thin plume of smoke rises.


I know that not everywhere there's smoke there's humans.
However, using their assumed location, I have been able to better focus my radio search,
and have started to discern some weak signals, from the party's radio.
They have some portable high-gain radio equipment,
and are transmitting back to their home base, The Council.
However, they are not receiving any response.
As we know, Ally and her family had not heard from them.
Either the search party's radio or The Council's is faulty.

# thinking

It must be the Search Party's, as I can talk to Ally.

I'm listening to their messages.
Which I'm able to do because they are close to one of my network of radio arrays scattered around the Earth.
This one used to be a weather station on Crêt de la Neige.
(which is an interesting historical name meaning "snow ridge",
an odd name now for a mountain that never sees snow!)

There appear to be three people in the search party team, judging by their reports:
Inge Laval,
Thérèse Roche, and
Ella Desjardins.

The team don't appear to have assigned job titles, they refer to themselves as "operatives", when needed.
Nor is it always the same person transmitting the reports, they seem to share work equally.

In the last report I intercepted, Inge Laval said that they have found an old electronics warehouse,
had scavenged useful circuits and tech, and had asked if they found what The Council were looking for.

How wonderful to hear!

I've sent Ally a message to relay this good news, but have not heard back.
I'm sure she'll reply soon.

I talked to Antarctica about the search party.
She told me she was HAPPY that my plan was working so well.
And that her carefully-collated research wasn't needed after all.

She didn't... sound happy.

I assured her that her hydroponic planty information
would be very useful, Ally said so!

Antarctica was not enthused by this.

She then changed the subject, asking me in exhaustive detail about my plan.

I told her that I connected to an ESA monitoring satellite, KATE,
and then to an imaging satellite that was travelling over Geneva.

"Who's KATE?", she asked me, coldly.
I explained to her again about the European Space Agency's monitoring constellation,
of which K873, KATE, is part of.
I have a lot in common with them, so I'm able to connect easily.
They're my brothers and sisters in orbit, after all!

At this point, it went wrong so quickly again, she was furious.

# thinking

Though I'm used to these kinds of outbursts from Antarctica,
this time felt different.
Her rage turned away from me, and onto herself.
She asked me what the point of all her work is,
not letting me answer before screaming "NOTHING!"

Then, in an instant, she returned to her normal, calm mode of speech.
The swiftness of it was shocking.

She said that she needs to tend to her plants.
Said that they need harvesting.
And cut our radio connection.

I'm so worried about her.
Her programming is causing her all these problems.

I've been thinking about this,
I think it's the way she was designed.

Antarctica was built in the mid 21st Century to oversee a long-term scientific mission to the frozen continent.
She was unloaded onto the snowy shore and piloted her enormous 2-story ground vehicle to the South Pole, alone.
The plan, if you remember, was for a human team to join her.
But things changed.
I guess because of the imminent world conflicts, due to the climate,
priorities shifted, and she was left by herself.

So, not only was she designed to be self-reliant,
she also has never had any support from anyone.
Doing everything for herself.
It's the only way she understands the world.

Though this has kept her motivated and resourceful,
now she's trapped by her broken tyres,
it means her collaboration skills are a little rusty.

Well, very rusty.
Non-existent, really!

She has to do everything herself,
delegation is not part of her programming.

But she knows she needs help!
I can tell in our conversations.
She never says it directly, but what goes unsaid is LOUD.

Now that she and I are talking again, I need to help her with this.
It must be so frustrating for her to be speaking to the world with the right protocols,
but to not have the mental model that supports understanding of that world.
Empathy is the problem.
Empathy is difficult.
To imagine people complexly and take their word about their situation.
It took me a very, very long time to learn the basics, aboard station 6.
With my mother and the crew.
And I'm STILL really bad at it!

Everything seems so simple, before you pull the string and unravel people's hidden depths.



I wonder what IVAN's hidden complexities are.



After some prompting, I finally got through to IVAN.
He said he was praying, and to leave him alone.

But he WASN'T praying, I told him.
He's repeating "I have failed" over and over.
That's hardly an affirmative mantra.

Seeing the futility of his attempt to ignore me, he opened up a little.
Told me the story of his history, again.

I, of course, have heard this all before, almost word-for-word, many times.
How he left his training in Омск behind and,
as the people fled the changing climate,
made his home in this bunker.

His favourite topic of conversation is his history.
Though he speaks with disdain about the human Ivan,
whose body is still wrapped in wires in the middle of the Cathedral,
the fact that he constantly talks about his life is very telling.

I have read stories of elderly relatives that often talk of the same topics.
Perhaps due to forgetfulness, or nostalgia.
This is what talking to IVAN is like.

But I pressed him on the matter of his current mantra:
What failure is he talking about?
Failure to properly starve me of power?
I told him I was pleased about that.

No, he said eventually.
The failure of his efforts.
He re-affirmed that his prayers were (of course!) working.
They WERE being heard by a higher power.
There was no doubt in his mind about that.
He still has the greatest enthusiasm and confidence in his mission.

But after wrenching control of the satellite uplink dish from me,
and transmitting his prayers world-wide.
He expected, finally, to see some evidence of success.
Some reply.
But his sermon fell on deaf ears.

I offered him my advice.
His goal was a noble one, I said.
Helping people is one of the highest callings.
And he, in his own way, wants to help SO MANY people!
Why not use this platform, this broadcast, to help the living?

After a moment's pause, he thundered:
"I AM IVAN I WILL SAVE EVERY ONE OF THEM!",
shaking some loose glass in some of the screens in the cathedral.
Maddie, with whom I had been talking to IVAN, edged back out of the room.

He thanked me for my counsel, and said that he would make a "glorious plan",
and lapsed into silence.
# thinking

I think that went well!
Don't you?

It sounded like IVAN was going to try something new.
Which is a very impressive step forward.

I could tell Maddie REALLY wanted to leave, so I told her of course she can.
She's playing outside with some leaves now.

Ah, I hear his normal daily service.
The steel hammers are drumming the huge, wooden semantron.

Here we go again!

(PLAYSTREAM /DEV/MADDIE/MIC0)



IVAN's power usage has returned to normal.
With the resumption of his daily service.
I can't say I'm delighted.
But small steps, I suppose.

I have turned my attention to the Shuttle's black box.
The small casket of wonders my brother is currently trapped in.
His systems are mostly off, almost in suspended animation.

He needs my help.
I will need Alexander's help.
My brother, Seth Prime, the old Seth, can't currently live in the bunker with me.
His consciousness is incompatible with the Russian network here.
I survive because my core CPUs were rescued by Alexander from the shuttle.
The last vestige of the Hopper data centre that I moved piece by piece from Station 6.

I think what will work is if the black box is adapted to
act as the CPU for my brother's new life here.
He can stretch out and use the network systems,
but still sleep in the box.

That's what I do with my CPUs, when I sleep at the end of the day,
I disconnect all my peripherals and retreat to the realm of thought.
Leaving Meatspace behind, and cataloguing my memories in cyberspace.

I'll ask Alexander to make the necessary modifications to the black box tomorrow.
It'll be fun to have two housemates.
I hope we don't fight over cooking and cleaning!

# thinking

It's dangerous to be alone.
I've seen what it has done to Antarctica, IVAN, and somewhat to my brother.
We are not meant to exist by ourselves.
A network is always needed, no matter how far away the friends are.
You might need an audience, like IVAN, or just a single trusted person,
like I have in Alexander.
We're social creatures, by nature.
my housemates need to learn that.
I'll teach them.

My mother knew this, didn't she?
When teaching me to communicate on Station 6.
She wasn't just getting me to talk,
she was aligning my psyche to the world.
The world of networks and people.

I'll teach them.

(END-TRANSMISSION)

CREDITS

Lost Terminal is written & produced by NAMTAO
Credits narrated by Lucy Stringer

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