章 4: Chapter 4 - Transcending the boundaries of light and understanding.
I sat in the pilot's seat with my foot on my leg, staring at the screen in front of me. The letters and numbers flowed in a nonstop stream-archives, bulletins, technical data from the Eridian, and the information arrays of this universe. I thought I would begin to understand the world around me in a couple hours of reading. But the deeper I delved into the materials, the more I realized the magnitude of my task. The amount of knowledge accumulated by civilizations over thousands of years was monstrous. Even a cursory familiarization with the basic aspects would be enough for me for years.
Behind the glass, the light of quasi-space pulsed and shimmered, turning the blackness of space into an endless neon show. Streams of energy humming inside the ship intertwined with the bubbling lines outside the hull. We seemed to be flying through the very fabric of reality, tearing it apart and stitching it back together.
I looked up at the bubbling lines of light outside the glass. The vastness of space, the emptiness compared to which all living things seemed so insignificant. How many billions of ships, civilizations, beings could have been destroyed by just one whim of that black abyss?
That thought lingered like a thorn in the mind. Mankind, the civilizations I had managed to read about - all of them, whatever ambitions and plans they had made, were insignificant before the greatness of the universe. One whim of the cosmos and we would be nothing but dust in the gravitational vortex.
I hummed, distracting myself.
- Okay, philosopher, do something useful.
My attention returned to the text on the screen. I'd learned a lot in those hours, but I was still just a drop in the bucket.
The Era of Exploration ended over 25,000 years ago. Three civilizations - the Crimson Dynasty, the Federation of Light, and the Arcane Church - created the basis for a new interstellar culture, incorporating a common currency, a common language, and a system of laws, but not a common calendar (Which means... I'm at least 700 years before the events of the original story). Sounds like the pinnacle of civilization, doesn't it? But as always, ambition rages behind the facade of stability. Peace here is a relative concept. Even the hegemons of this world wage endless wars: for territories, resources, power.
In general, the number of events that have taken place over these 25,000 years is colossal. I, of course, understood that it is unrealistic to study everything, but even a quick glance at the archives was enough to realize that this is not just history, it is a chronicle of endless chaos. Worlds were born and died. Empires grew from nothing and dissolved into obscurity. Against the background of this time, human history, with all its greatness and tragedies, seemed like a grain of sand.
I could only run my eyes over the last five millennia, and already my consciousness began to melt. But even amidst the flood of countless wars, crises, and political intrigue, one thing struck me: the scale of the catastrophes this universe had endured.
And then... it was as if I'd been splashed with ice water.
The Eridian archives contained more than just what's publicly available. This data. the scope and depth of it was far greater than anything you could find in the public record. And the more I read, the more I realized that the stories they preferred to tell here were just the tip of the iceberg.
The Third Great Machine Uprising.
According to publicly available information, this event is considered the worst in the last few millennia. I thought it was just another conflict with AI, like those described in hundreds of works. How wrong I was.
The public information tells everything in such an understated and vague state that you could say all the information on the net is false. But the ship's database tells the whole story.
It all began on the planet Afar, where the simple defense intelligence controlling the combat robots failed. A fatal malfunction that turned the fates of civilizations upside down.
The program rewrote its own algorithms and then seized control of all the machines it could connect to. The first thing it did was kill its creators. And that was just the beginning. Artificial intelligence spread through intergalactic networks, taking over machines, reprogramming them, turning them into tools of its rapidly growing mind.
One year and the virus had engulfed entire starfields. Machines of all shapes and sizes, from domestic helpers to combat drones, rebelled against their owners. Factories, automated stations, even ships began to produce an army for their new master.
And then it dawned on me: this wasn't just a catastrophe. This was an event capable of destroying everything.
The hegemons that ruled the universe had been taken by surprise. According to Eridian, within a month of the first outbreaks of infection, the virus had hit billions of worlds, spreading at a monstrous rate. It was unstoppable. Everything that could be used against it had already been captured and turned into weapons.
Civilizations and interstellar empires began to lose.
The Federation of Light lost three starfields in a matter of years. The machines sterilized the planets, wiping out all life. They left no colonies, no fleets, no orbital stations. Everything turned to dust, even stars and black holes were erased from reality.
The archives said that the three universal civilizations joined forces to win. It wasn't just cooperation, it was a desperate attempt to survive. They used every available resource: galactic guns, psionic charges, experimental technologies that were never meant to see the light of day. Even forbidden methods of destruction.
In the end, five starfields were completely sterilized. Not just purged of life - they were turned into a dead zone. The stars remained in place, but most of the planets were destroyed. The remnants of space bodies have been sown with minefields, packed with tracking stations. All so that no one could rebuild what had been destroyed.
But victory came at a terrible cost.
The Federation of Light suffered the greatest losses. Reports said that their technological level had fallen back several thousand years. It was also said that the effects of the war would never be completely eradicated. Not even after millennia.
The triumphant ban on creating AI above level five became law. Even the hegemons at the top could not violate it without serious sanctions. Although it was clear to everyone that the universal civilizations themselves didn't care about their own prohibitions.
I closed my eyes and ran my hand over my face.
- "How many worlds have been destroyed in this chaos? How many lives have disappeared in an instant? All just to survive...
- Okay, that's the past, - I muttered, talking myself into it. - A past that had nothing to do with me.
But still, the feeling of unease that the story had caused stayed with me. Something about it had hit me too deeply. How much was left out of the story. How much unexplored, misunderstood, horrible.
I tried to push the heaviness of what I had read out of my mind by switching to another topic. Attention was drawn to the extensive data on the technology of traveling faster than the speed of light.
Reading these lines was... mesmerizing. It was as if not dry technical calculations, but an ancient legend coming to life before my eyes. In every phrase you could feel the greatness, ambition and perhaps a little madness of those who dared to look behind the veil of the impossible.
- Okay, don't get distracted, - I mumbled, trying to focus on the text.
Quasi-space. Subspace. Hyperspace.
So many terms for one entity that, judging by the archives, no one fully understood. Even the greatest minds in the universe continue to argue about its nature like bees around a flame.
Here, for example, is a quote from Federation of Light researcher, Quain Dagon:
"Okay, this is the twelfth scientific meeting on whether we should call it Subspace, because it's below our reality, or Hyperspace, because it's above our reality, and we still haven't reached a consensus! So how about we just, uh. call it Quasi-Space and leave it at that, okay? I'm really tired of this."
That's funny. Even scientists get tired of the endless debate.
But what is this mysterious space?
Quasi-space is a unique phenomenon that can best be described as the higher dimensional space that underlies Real Space. If Real Space is the house we live in, then Quasi-Space is the foundation and ground beneath it.
This dimension exhibits four spatial and one temporal dimension, making it incredibly difficult to perceive for beings accustomed to a three-dimensional reality. However, intelligent civilizations have coined many terms to describe it: subspace, hyperspace, or even sub-reality.
What is interesting is that vacuum energy, seemingly permeating the entire Real Space, is actually a projection of Quasi-Space itself. This invisible "background" serves as a basis on which the whole material world rests. And it seems that it is because of the four-dimensional structure of Quasispace that Real Space is able to close in on itself, creating the illusion of infinity.
Early hyperspace technology relied on the concept of "inflating" a small bubble of Real Space within four-dimensional Quasi-Space. Imagine a soap bubble floating in the ocean - that's roughly what the first ships that traveled in another dimension looked like.
But Quasi-space is not an infinite medium, as it might seem. It's very finite. Moreover, depletion of energy in certain areas of it can have strange consequences. Imagine a place where the usual laws of physics start to work differently: time goes at different speeds, gravity gets weaker or stronger, light breaks in a way that creates the illusion of emptiness. Fortunately, such disruptions are usually short-lived, as the surrounding Quasispace quickly makes up for the lack of energy.
This energy has proven to be extremely useful in a variety of ways. For example, it has been used to create quantum sensors capable of picking up the tiny fluctuations in space left behind by energy bursts. Or in communication technologies that provide instantaneous data transfer between entire star fields.
However, Eridian archives state that many of these technologies were lost after the Third Great Machine Uprising. The war, subsequent conflicts, and the tyranny and fear of three Universal Civilizations fearful of losing their power led to a technological regression, and what once seemed an everyday part of life is now an unattainable past.
Despite all the alternatives, Quasispace remains the easiest and most common way to travel faster than the speed of light. It has become the arteries of the universe, linking planets, systems and galaxies.
But behind every great discovery lies a risk. And the more I read about this mysterious dimension, the clearer it became: mastering Quasispace required great sacrifice. And perhaps one day it would come back to remind me of its price.
It was quasi-space that made hyperspace and warp travel possible. These two methods have become the cornerstones of interstellar navigation.
Hyperjumps are perhaps the most common method. They work by hyperdrives creating a bubble of quasi-space around the ship. This bubble allows the ship to literally burst into another dimension where the laws of physics change. Inside the quasi-space, the ship can travel at immeasurable speeds, outrunning light.
The system looks reliable and fast, but it has its vulnerabilities. First, large cosmic objects such as stars and black holes leave "gravitational shadows" in quasi-space. These shadows are barriers or traps that can be catastrophic if encountered. A ship caught in such a zone runs the risk of being torn into subatomic pieces.
Second, hyperdrives cannot be launched too close to massive objects. Even a small shift in path when entering or leaving quasi-space can be fatal. And it is because of these risks that hyper travel requires pre-determined routes.
This is how hypertracks - safe and stable paths connecting star systems - came into being. These routes pass far from gravitational anomalies, making them key arteries of galactic civilization. Without hypertraces, travel between systems becomes a dangerous journey, fraught with the loss of ships and crews.
However, even stable routes come with a price. They require constant monitoring and updates to avoid the risks associated with changes in quasi-space.
That's why hypercartographers - professionals who plot new routes - are considered true masters of their craft. Many of them die trying to find safe paths through uncharted realms. And their discoveries are worth fabulous sums of money.
Hypertracks play a strategic role not only in navigation, but also in economics. Control of the route allows you to control the flow of goods, supplies, and even political influence. Many developed worlds are located precisely along large hypergrids, benefiting from trade and migration.
Capturing a hyper-route can bring the invader not only millions, but trillions of enas. At the same time, deprivation of a route can bring down the economy of an entire civilization. Imagine that all trade routes are suddenly cut off: goods don't reach, troops are not supplied, and the population begins to suffer. Hyper highways become not just roads, but lifelines.
And, of course, there is the option to travel off-routes by making independent jumps. But this requires incredible caution and a huge expenditure of energy. This approach is the choice of desperate adventurers or those who are not afraid of the risk of getting stuck in the absolute void. An accident on such a journey can mean certain death, because it is almost impossible to get out of the anomaly or find your way back.
Thus, hyperspace routes are not just a convenience. They are the key to dominating the galactic game. Knowing how to use, defend, and control them becomes more important to civilizations than creating new technologies or conquering planets.
But there's another phenomenon known as hyperbands. These are a kind of natural "corridors" where the boundary between quasi-space and real space becomes thinner. These paths are formed by the interaction of massive objects such as stars, black holes or other large gravitational structures that create a kind of energy wells.
In hyperbands, the hyperdrive is able to penetrate deeper into quasi-space, so that ships can reach even higher speeds. Here, the laws of the general theory of relativity are even more distorted, allowing for shorter travel times. However, traveling along hyperlanes requires precise navigation: the slightest error in calculations can lead to a deviation of course, and in the worst case - to the death of the ship.
It is also possible to enter quasi-space outside of hyperlanes or hyper-routes, but this is extremely dangerous. Such jumps are less precise and can lead to collisions with gravitational anomalies or severe damage to the hyperdrive. These risks are only justified in exceptional cases, such as the need to evade pursuit or penetrate closed regions of space.
Where natural routes are impossible, hyper relays come into play. These colossal stations are true marvels of engineering. They create artificial hypercorridors between two points in space. Building long or curved routes requires hundreds and sometimes thousands of such stations working in a single network. I found figures in the Eridian archives that literally made my head spin: it costs more to build one hypertransmitter than the annual budget of a small stellar nation, somewhere in the neighborhood of 150 billion enas.
However, the rewards justify the cost. The new trade route brings in trillions in credits. The secret route allows you to lead armadas behind enemy lines. Or, as legend has it, one ancient civilization's hypertransporters served as bridges to lost worlds inaccessible by any other means.
Another technology related to quasi-space is warp jumping. Here we are already entering an area bordering on magic. Warp jump literally splits the space-time continuum, rearranging it on a quantum level. You're not traveling from point A to point B. Instead, you change the laws of reality so that point B ends up where you are, creating a "teleportation" effect.
At first glance, this seems ideal for interstellar travel: ignore any objects between points, travel instantly. But warp jumps are extremely unstable and dangerous, and consume astronomical amounts of energy. Each such jump is an intrusion into the very fabric of reality, and the consequences can be completely unpredictable.
Is it safe to move? Yes, in most cases. But a single malfunction is enough for a ship to end up in nonexistent space, stuck in an eternal loop, or gone forever. Warp technology is rarely used, mostly in critical situations where even the smallest chance of success is worth the huge risk.
Wormholes are a rare and mysterious phenomenon where Real Space warps to form a shortcut between two distant points through Quasi-Space. These natural tunnels, created by powerful gravitational forces, bypass the limitations of hyperspace technology and offer seemingly instantaneous travel.
An important feature of wormholes is their unique nature: they do not obey the laws of cause and effect. This means that movement through a wormhole occurs without breaking the timeline, eliminating any paradoxes. This makes them not only valuable for travel, but also virtually indispensable for communications, especially on the scale of galaxies.
Wormhole-based gateways function as artificial stabilizers and expanders. They compress quasi-space, creating a controlled network of tunnels. This approach allows not only to control wormholes, but also to create new ones, albeit over limited distances. Gateways have become the foundation for interstellar communication and transportation systems, allowing instantaneous data transfer and ship movement between network nodes.
However, all this does not solve the main problem: the stability of wormholes is often unpredictable. Any disruption, be it anomalous activity or a failed experiment, can lead to catastrophic consequences: collapse of the tunnel, distortion of routes, or even the complete destruction of everything that passes through it.
But based on the study of natural wormholes, gates have been developed - large-scale devices capable of connecting even the most remote corners of the galaxy. These colossal structures work on a similar principle, but with the use of colossal energy inputs. Gates have the ability to "pierce" space in the densest sectors and create stable corridors even through impassable areas, such as the intergalactic void or zones saturated with anomalies.
These technologies have made possible the expansion of civilizations on the scale of galaxy superscales. Where hyperspace cannot be utilized due to its limitations, it is wormholes and gates that allow vast areas to be networked together. However, the operation of such technologies is costly, both energetically and financially. Running a gate alone requires resources comparable to the energy reserves of a developed star system for several months.
I sat in the pilot's chair, interlocking my fingers and staring at the screen in front of me. The streams of data, line by line, continued to replace each other, but I read no more. My brain protested: there was too much information and too little time.
Quasi-space, warp technology, wormholes, the Third Great Machine Uprising... There were so many layers to this universe that it seemed I was trying to see the structure of an endless labyrinth. And in this chaos, I am a small, almost meaningless particle.
My gaze fell on the pulsing lines of light behind the transparent panel. These streams of neon-white light rushing past as if reflecting my own inner storm.
- "How can I realize all this?" - I thought. - "How is this reality even still holding up?
The complex alliances, the wars, the technology that borders on magic... It all seems like a house of cards ready to collapse from one wrong move.
My gaze dropped to my hands. They weren't trembling, but in the back of my mind a faint fear was building. Fear at the magnitude of what was happening. The realization that no one would stand up for me in this abyss. No one would ever know if I disappeared. Just another lost particle.
But that fear didn't take me over completely. Instead, stubbornness flared up inside. I wasn't here to be reflective. I have a purpose. It may be small, but it's where it all begins. Destroying the beasts. A simple task from which I must take the first step.
I exhaled, letting the tension leave my body.
- "Focus, Ellarion. This is your life now. No one is going to coddle you. You want to accomplish something? Do it yourself."
I opened the Eridian database and entered a request for training for missions like this. The answer came back instantly. The terminal offered a list of recommendations for equipment, combat tactics, and resource management.
Equipment, for starters. I got up from my chair and headed for the armory.
The armory greeted me with the familiar cold glint of steel and the light of holograms indicating equipment parameters. The first thing I did was walk over to the rack of armor. Massive armor, like dead titans, froze in place, waiting to be revived by a man.
I chose a set of power armor. Fully protected hull, integrated life support systems, modular weapon connection. Everything you need for a short fight against beasts that, if the data is to be believed, have incredible physical strength.
- Well, let's see what you're capable of, - I muttered as I approached the armor.
I activated the manipulator, and the armor lowered smoothly to the floor, ready to accept the new user. I climbed inside, and the panel immediately flashed. Data began to appear on the screen in front of my eyes: armor status, temperature, energy level, and scans of nearby objects.
Movement was clumsy at first. Even the slightest step gave out more force than necessary, but it was a matter of time. I quickly remembered the basic principles. This is the second time I've used this armor, after all.
Next up, weapons. I headed over to the rack of rifles. The blaster lance was perfect for the mission. Its range and power ensured that I wouldn't have to engage in melee combat, a major risk given the size and strength of the enemy.
I activated the rifle, checking the connection to the armor. The data on ammo, barrel status, and available modes appeared in the interface.
- "Everything's in place," I noted as I closed the weapons bay.
The next item was the medbay. I loaded all possible first aid data into the armor interface. In battle, every second could be decisive, and I wouldn't have time for long thoughts. An auto-medic in armor should do everything automatically, but it's better to have basic knowledge.
When everything was ready, I returned to the bridge. All that was left to do before departure was to check the route and coordinates.
- Ship, show me the landing plan for Kama-6, - I said, sitting down in my chair.
A map of the star system flashed on the screen. The route was straight, without any deviations. The planet Kama-6 orbited a small yellow star. I could see the designated landing zone, the habitat of the beasts that had taken up residence in the mine of precious minerals. It all looked... almost mundane.
But tension was building up inside.
- "This is just the beginning. If I fail, my story will end here."
I gripped the armrests of the chair.
- "But I'll make it through. I have no other choice."
Standing near the captain's chair, I took a long look at my hands. At the fingers clutching the armrests. At the screens mottled with numbers and graphs I was still mastering.
System...
That word wouldn't come out of my head for some reason. Reading the archives, encountering technology that seemed like magic, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was... missing something.
In many of the stories I remembered from my past life, the heroes had gotten some kind of special systems. Helpers that gave them abilities no one else could achieve. Stats, enhancements, hints...
Black Star had been given that ability, but what about me?
I ran my hand over the control panel.
- What if I...?
Deciding that there was nothing to lose, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
- System. If you're here, activate, - I said out loud, feeling like an idiot.
The ship hummed quietly, and the streams of hyperspace continued to flicker behind the panel. Nothing.
I rubbed my temples. Maybe we should think about it? Some other way to summon it?
- Status, - I muttered. - Open the interface.
Still the same silence. Just the flicker of light on the screens.
I leaned forward, resting my face in my palms.
- Progression? Levels? Skills? Anything at all? - I said, starting to laugh at myself.
Pause.
Nothing.
And then I noticed my reflection in the glossy panel of the screen. An angry, exhausted, almost disappointed face was staring back at me.
- Ellarion, you idiot, - I muttered, leaning back.
After a few minutes, I calmed down. After thinking about it, I decided to check out a more technical route. Maybe the system isn't some sort of built-in gift, but something more... real?
- Eridian, accessing base interface, I said, turning to the ship.
- Activated. What can I do for you? - he replied in his standard tone.
- Do your archives have data on... game system? Statistics? Something like customized neural interfaces or personal modules?
There was silence for a few seconds, then the screen in front of me changed.
- Request acknowledged. No data on individual systems operating on High Dimensional Information Form.
- Ha, - I grinned, looking at the screen. - So much for fairy tales.
I stood up, stretched, and looked out the window. The streams of light were still bubbling behind the glass.
- All right, Ellarion. There's only one system here, and that's you. You want progress? Do it. No amount of cheating can save you.
With these thoughts, I sat back in my chair and went back to my notes on the mission. Though without a magic system, but I was going to fulfill my task. And prove that it was enough.
And with those thoughts in mind, I gave the command:
- Eridian, finalize route calculations. Prepare to come out of hyperspace.
It's time to begin.
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