Arcadia

by obscurica

Chapter 3

There was a water pump by the side of the road, used for field work. That slogged off the worst of the mud. It also got her hair soaked. Vaiva had wings – huge ones that, this close, seemed to dwarf her, which wasn’t especially hard given her short stature. But, no, air-drying didn’t make things much better. It did, however, turn Mayuya’s short bob from wet hair to wet, disordered hair.

Vaiva was failing at suppressing her mirth.

“I-I’m sorry!” she managed to choke out. “Look, seriously!”

“Uh-huh,” deadpanned Mayuya as she wrung the water off her hood. “Sir, could we get going soon? We’re wasting time here.”

“Look, I’ll make it up to you!” insisted Vaiva. “You’re new to town, right? Well, I’ve lived and worked here all my life. I’ll show you around!”

“Thank you, but that will not be necessary,” said Mayuya flatly. “Look, I’m very busy today. The weather has to be cleared up for the ceremony, the libations have to be inspected, I’ve got research to do-“

“Hey, you wouldn’t happen to be Vaiva Kaptsov, would you?” asked Spike, knocking water out of what passes for his ears.

“Huh? Yeah, what’s up?” replied Vaiva, a blank look on her face.

“Item five on the list was to talk to the person in charge of atmospheric conditions,” said Spike, reminding Mayuya.

“Oh, that? Pssch. That won’t be a problem,” said Vaiva, flapping off and settling on top of the carriage, ignoring the guard’s glare.

“Oh, really,” said Mayuya disbelievingly. “Given that you’re the only technician on duty today, it ought to take you hours to get set up, and all you’ve been doing is playing around!”

“Not playing,” corrected Vaiva, leaning back and enjoying the radiant heat from the lamps. “Training!”

“Huh, you think you have a chance this time?” interjected the guard casually. “That’s a tough gig.”

“Dude, did you see that corkscrew?! Well, the bit before the degausser, I mean.”

“Ehhh… I’ve seen faster.”

“Faster?!” asked a shocked and scandalized Vaiva. “…oh, right, the Spitfire Dive. W-well, I’ll just-“

“Excuse me,” interrupted an exasperated Mayuya. “But what are you even talking about?! What are you even training for?”

Vaiva sat up straight in excitement. “The Blue Bolts! They’re performing at the Solstice Celebration! I’ll use it as my chance to show off. They’ll be sure to give me a tryout after I show them what I’m capable of!”

Mayuya gave the winged girl a flat, skeptical look. “…the Blue Bolts. The Princess’s personal flight attendants. The Arcadia’s elite flight demonstration squadron.” Vaiva nodded enthusiastically. “I don’t think they’d take on anybody that can’t do a basic weather pattern shift.”

Vaiva raised an eyebrow as she stared down at Mayuya. “…you don’t think I can finish on time?”

“I wonder if you have the… right stuff,” said Mayuya, critically eyeing her nails. “Anyhow, I really have to be goin-“

“Hey, cousin! How long has it been since I crashed into Little Miss Kirin here?” called Vaiva.

“Hmm… fifteen minutes?”

“And that flight time along the Spoke?”

“Couldn’t have been more than ten seconds at most.”

Vaiva licked a finger and held it into the air. “…aaaaand now.”

The wind blew.

By the time Mayuya was able to pick herself back up, still dazed by the experience, Vaiva was floating back down, laughing loudly.

“But – what…“ stammered Mayuya. “When did you! The spillover effects! How!”

Vaiva tapped her headgear. “Wireless, duh. I keep the equipment well-maintained, so I just fed in adjustment metrics as I flew by the corresponding gear. Easy! And the Everfree’s like a sponge for this kind of stuff anyhow, so don’t worry about spillover.” She beamed. “Like I’d keep Hopesville hanging. They don’t call me Vaiva Victorious for nothin’!”

The guard snorted. “I thought it was the Kaptsov Catastrophe.”

“I-I have no idea what you’re talking about!” laughed Vaiva nervously, looking askance.

“Or was it the Kaptsov Crash? Pretty sure it was – ow!”

---

The Command Center. Way at the far end of the Arcadia lies the center of it all – its culture, its technology… its nervous system. It starts just a little past the sudden break in green grass and forestry that encompasses the rest of the ship, roughly at about where the final, or first, Spoke holds the immense weight of the Core Shaft up towards the sky. Its actual influence propagated throughout the entirety of the vessel, linking every node and town, even as far as Hopesville, within its unseen, unfelt, but entirely ubiquitous network.

And it all funneled here, into the throne room.

At least, it should’ve been a throne room. The young sensors officer on duty at the moment was an avid reader of the legends and myths of the old days – the heroes and dramas of ages past that once graced ancient Arcadia, and every romantic bone in her Kirin body demanded that the central nexus of command be a lavish, fairytale construct of high fantasy and awe-inspiring technology.

It was, instead… well, there were definitely network arcades in the Core that had more visual appeal than the strictly functional terminals and display panels in what was actually a rather small, rather chilly room.

Utilitarian. The room, maintained over a thousand years, was downright utilitarian. Boring. When she was an acolyte, whispering rumors with her fellow trainees between lessons on the arcana of computer science and electrical engineering, they’d thought that the reserved comments and secrecy involving the centermost seat of power in all of Arcadia was to be a grand and profound revelation. She’d struggled to climb up to the very top of her Order’s ranks in her discipline for a chance to work within its confines.

None of them had quite accounted for the fact that there was simply nothing to really talk about.
Well, Gerald did. But Gerald’s just as boring as the command room. Then again, he didn’t exactly become chief network engineer by taking flights of fancy either.

There were a few perks. Being in such close proximity to Her Majesty had its rewards. She was not an aloof ruler, especially not to those she worked alongside on a daily basis, and it was comforting to know that the commander of the ship put in the same hours – often a lot more – than her core staff. She had seen, first-hand, the miracles that the Princess was capable of pulling off. And her clearance access afforded her information that was both juicy and… disturbing.

In the end, the biggest reason for the secrecy behind the command room, or the rest of the highest seats of government, wasn’t any ephemeral fairy tale of the wonders of the lost eras.
It was simply what they saw on the simple, utilitarian, downright boring terminal screens.

Or, more importantly, what they didn’t.

She failed to notice the first cue. It was a question as to whether anybody could have.

---

Vaiva did most of the talking. Was a symptom of the Alkonost’s legendary metabolism, or just a character defect- that is, trait? Her kin was stoic, as expected of a guardsman of any species, but she herself was a compact inferno of outlandish ideas and excitement. Her enthusiasm, however, was somewhat infectious – though not one for the sports herself, Mayuya found herself unwittingly enthralled by a discourse on the requisites of becoming a Bolt, and – more of interest to her – the physics of their stuntwork. Though it did take a bit of mental work when the facts and figures were couched in such terms as “mind-blowingly quick,” “big ol’ thermal balloon,” “a freaking tornado,” and a slew of other exaggerations and slang. The occasional sneeze as pollen drifted by certainly didn’t help things.

“And then – and then they…! Oh, hey,” noted Vaiva. “We’re in town already.”

Mayuya jerked to attention. “What? Oh!” She nudged Spike. “Hey, who was in charge of the decorations again?”

“A Miss Kichouko Suzu,” replied Spike immediately. “We should be just a few minutes away.”
“Suzu, huh?” said Vaiva, raising a brow. “Oh yeah, she’s in charge of all that frilly stuff, huh? She’s a bit… uh…”

“A bit what?” asked Mayuya curiously. “Is there something wrong?”

“Eh, Kichouko is a bit… fancy,” said Vaiva blandly. “She runs a clothing shop. Not my kinda scene, if you get my drift – she throws a fit whenever there’s the slightest bit of mud.”

Mayuya sneezed, her shoulders slumping. “Oh, yes, right. The contaminants.” The coach creaked to a stop. “I suppose I look like a bit of a mess, huh?”

Vaiva shrugged as she opened the carriage door and hopped out. The guard bowed and offered Mayuya a hand as she followed after, helping her down. “Don’t look so bad to me. Just a few stains, nothing serious-“

A gasp interrupted her, and a shriek as a streak of blurred blonde and pink ran by.

“Just a few stains, huh?” deadpanned Mayuya.

---

There was just one university abroad the Arcadia, and it was the University. And the hallmark of the University was that you were well and encouraged to fight for your domain. That is, fight with publications, heated debates, overturning your rivals’ theories, and all of the rest of that good time. Not, it was stressed, by fist or force. Funding was done on an entirely project-by-project basis, and the Princess did so frown upon unsportsmanlike conduct.

That said, sometimes it was tempting to slug Dr. Bowen across the jaw, damn the academic consequences. The smug, all-knowing snake.

“Look, kid, you’re new to the field-“

“I’ve been on this job for five years!”

“AND there’s an entire body of recorded observations, stretching back literal centuries, that disputes you! Now, I know that a lot has been expected of you, but you’re clearly overworked and need to take a break. I’m going to sign a release for you to attend the Summer Solstice festival to cool your heels a bit, maybe meet a nice girl, and-“

“Goddammit, Dad, at least look at the fucking data!” snapped Assistant Professor Bowen. “ The laser calibration test is more than a millennium old, and the gradient level is finer than anything they were capable of back then. Unless you’re just going to discount the entire body of physics as we know it, then the new readings do indicate a rapidly blueshifting object!”

The elder researcher glared up from a reclined seat and grabbed the datapad from his desk. He skimmed through it, rapidly tapping commands onto the flat interface.

“But that’s just impossible. We should’ve seen it coming decades ago. Until just now, any observations in that direction showed nothing above the size of a solar wind nuclei on the charted path.” He shook his head. “That must mean something’s wrong, kid. Nothing comes out of nothing. If we haven’t been able to track this mass until now, then that’s the only possibility!”

The younger researcher rolled his eyes. “Really? ‘The only possibility?’ How do you even get published with that kind of attitude?”

“Yeah? Then what the hell do you think it is?” snapped the older man, bristling angrily.

“Lots of things,” said the son blandly. He waved dismissively. “The question isn’t ‘is something soon to collide with the Arcadia,’ but ‘does anybody else know,’ and if so, ‘for how long have they kept the information?’” He glared back down at his old man. “It is not, I insist, the fault of my team’s equipment. We’ve spent the last year exhaustively verifying that. Something out there is leaving a mass shadow, and it is heading our way. Either it is small – but going fast enough to cripple systems where it’ll end up hitting – or was just outside of verifiable range, and is huge.”

He shuddered.

“And it’ll do a lot more than cripple the ship.”

---

She was in her element, as it were. Though an external observer might note instead the pickiness in which she plucked through ribbons, or the judgmental disdain in which she cast aside those she found lacking in contextual virtue, Kichouko was, in fact, having quite a bit of fun putting together the settings for the grand ceremony. The meeting hall was bedecked in finery – ribbons, curtains and laces draped like an aurora, edging from a dark, velvety purple and blue at the entryway and tapering through the red and oranges until it reached a crescendo of yellow sunlight upon the mezzanine stage. A presentation fit, as it were, for royalty, or would be, soon enough.

“Hmm… yes. Yes, this is exactly the right shade and fabric,” muttered Kichouko to herself as she slid out a billowing length of cloth from amongst virtually identical hues, the burgundy a sharp contrast against a titanium white dress and checkered robins-egg blue shawl, her face translucently obscured by an airy veil. A deft lashing around an exposed bannister, and the burgundy cloth hung amidst a frame of similar fellows – though hanging noticeably limp in comparison.

“Oh my,” said a voice behind her. “I see the decorations are getting along quite well! Are you Kichouko Suzu?”

“Just a minute!” said Kichouko in a singsong voice. “Almost done here! Now… just a bit of embedded circuitry magic and…” A brush of white-gloved hand against fabric, and life was breathed into limp linen. Fabric rustled and stirred… lifted and flowed in effervescent motion. It synchronized with the flow of the tapestry around it, sending a subdued cascade floating through the room. The two elicited gasps of awe behind her were music to her ears. “Ahem,” she said, turning around demurely and posed. “Now, what can I do for you… aaahh!”

Mayuya winced.

“My dear! Whatever happened?!” exclaimed Kichouko, deeply scandalized. “Oh, we simply must get you cleaned up!”

“Ah-hah...” laughed Mayuya nervously. “That… that won’t be necessary. I’m just here to do a quick inspection of the premises, and I’ll be right out of your hair.”

“My hair? But what about your hair?” demanded Kichouko. “No, no, no. This simply will not do.” Arms forcefully, if hesitantly, folded over Mayuya’s. “A good Kirin girl like you can’t be traipsing around in public covered in m-mu-mud!“ Kichouko shuddered, but moved determinedly along out of the hall with Mayuya protesting in tow. “Ugh! It doesn’t bear thinking about. We’ll get you made over in no time – I insist!”

It took over an hour, fifteen outfits, countless accessorizing variants, and an endless tide of demeaning sniggering from Spike, but Mayuya did have to admit that the black and purple dress was a lot more comfortable than the off-the-rack robe she had started this trip with. And it was entirely news to her that you could embed an ionizing air purifier into a lightweight, synthetic silk scarf – she had very nearly stopped sniffling.

“Oh, that’s not the only trick I have up my sleeve,” bragged Kichouko proudly. “Surface-living for Kirin is all about accessorizing sensibly, my dear! It is so very hard to be fashionable with a fever, you know. Here, try these obsidian bracelets – they use a contact gel with time-released supplements. Now, you were saying…?”

Mayuya struggled with the bracelets. Unyielding gem-encrusted stone elicited a wince as they slid into place. “Ow… um. Right. I was sent from Command to check on the-“

“Command?” exclaimed Kichouko, suddenly clutching her hands tightly. “Oh, Miss Kira! I’ve always wanted to live there!” Kichouko swooned back in excitement and recollection. “The lights! The culture! It’s been a childhood dream to set up shop in the LED-lighted alleys of New Milan – to have a chance at designing for the Princess herself! Oh, you must simply tell me more!” She sighed and fluttered her eyelashes at Mayuya. “We are going to be the best of friends, you and I…”

Mayuya’s brow twitched and she started to pull away. “That’s… that’s fine, but-“

Kichouko paused and gave a sudden frown. “Oh, no, no, no. Whatever was I thinking? Emeralds? With the rest of your ensemble?” A deft hand slipped the bracelets off as she wandered off. “Oh, but the fabricator did make such an excellent batch. …maybe I have another outfit this could go with!”

Mayuya nudged Spike sharply as the fashion designer wandered off. “ Quick!” she said tersely. “Before she puts me through another dozen dresses!”

---

There were once two sisters, and they were named after the heavenly spheres. By their grace and beauty, they were admired by the world. By their wisdom and foresight, they were respected by so many. But it is the nature of humankind to be insatiable, even for the little things, and a rift began to grow.

She didn’t like her name.

It was, she complained, too prophetic. To be a mere reflection of her sister’s radiance. To always be compared to the elder’s achievements. Yes, perhaps they shared professional fields – the study and application of nanotechnology could hardly be capable without a thorough understanding of chemical interactions that were not at all dissimilar to that commonly utilized in biotechnology. Both, in fact, were often highly dependent on organic chemistry specifically.
But, and this is what really galled her, no matter how hard she worked, no matter to what bleeding edge she pushed her research and her field, no matter what breakthroughs of hers that her sister drew inspiration from, it was to the elder that credit was assumed.

But not all was bad.

She found, strangely, comfort in soldiers and fieldwork. And in this era, there was plenty of soldiers, and plenty of work. Plenty of shattered bones and dreams needed mending. They were grateful – for her presence, for her little machines, for the tapestry of blood and muscle and sinew that she so carefully, so elegantly stitched back together, so close to new you’d be hard-pressed to find scars. While her sister fed and nurtured the desperate and ailing, she found her calling elsewhere… as champion for the lost.

But she loved her sister, and her sister loved her. They were each other’s best advocates, in a world of such extremes. In a world that both deified and vilified their actions. It was not the elder’s fault that the others would rather buy narrative than truth. That a dying world would cling to legends and myths in its last days.

There were once two sisters, named after the stars and moon. And like celestial bodies, they were locked in an intractable orbit around the other, with nothing in the world alone capable of separating the two.

Nothing in the world.

She accepted her task.

She would be their escort out of the encroaching flames, and vanguard against the seeping darkness.

Comments

[nemryn]

'Millennia' is plural; a single thousand-year period is a millennium. I normally wouldn't mention it, but a) it's a mistake I've seen a lot, and b) it grates a lot more in a hard SF setting like this than it does in a fantasy setting.

[obscurica]

34005

Thanks for catching that! Error fixed.

[lol1759]

i think you should describe the physical apperences of the mane characters