First Contact

In this day and age, a system like that would be attacked by the Seaborn before it could even be activated.

Regardless, we need to find a way to ensure power supply for the beacon.

Maybe Appius would know a way. Let me get in... oh!

Did you forget? He's still in the home territories and our cities are under radio silence.

We can't exactly lay fiber optic cables like we used to, either, what with all the Seaborn out there.

I miss the days when we could get anyone in the country on a holographic call whenever we wanted.

Wait.

What if we modified the output mode of the energy converter?

We have extremely limited experience in this area. There's always a safety risk.

With you in charge of the cognitive link, I believe the risk is reasonable.

Well, I'm glad you're that confident in me, but I'm not. Who knows what an extended conversation via cognitive link with our transformed countrymen would do to both our minds?

There's been plenty of research into this. We'll be good as long as you keep a steady hand.

Even in the home territories, there are very few cases of transformed citizens being granted a final interview. Most are simply euthanized.

Consul Clementia's ideas are radical, as always.

Which is exactly why I followed her here.

By sorting through the threads of reason via conversation, we can grant them a chance to leave a final trace of their sapience in the world.

And what better way to send them off than with a stimulating debate?

Sadly, most of the survivors the Sea Patrol brings back are already transformed beyond recognition. Precious few have the opportunity to return to the city to receive a final interview.

Say—

Hm?

We're witnessing history unfold here, aren't we?

Or maybe we're just doing our jobs. I trust that the Institute of Development Planning's faith in you is not misplaced. Make your preparations.

Thanks. See you in the isolation chamber.

Excuse me—

W-What the? A Catastrophe? Under the sea?

...

Get up, Jordi.

R-right!

Doña Irene?

Next time you go out, remember to put on the device that the Sea Patrol gave us when we landed yesterday.

Right, I remember that from the briefing videos... Which one was it again...?

The fourth one. The technicians at the port reminded me.

They make regular adjustments to the gravity settings, as part of what it takes to maintain the low-gravity environment of Milliarium.

They said it's like a fin adjusting its swim bladder.

So you went to tour the port.

Yes. I was interested in their ships and docks, their weapons... those massive ships that sail like fowlbeasts through reefs and cliffs.

I saw traces of the Stultifera Navis in them. Breogan really did recreate Ægir technology in Iberia. Perhaps...

Perhaps we should have sailed our proud armada out into the vast oceans, rather than parading our gold-gilded ships along the coasts as a deterrent to those dukes and pashas.

Breogan...

You look nervous, Jordi. So nervous that you missed the point entirely.

I'm just feeling a little out of place...

This place is stranger than I imagined. The air is thick and heavy, the ocean above my head sends a chill up my spine, and the glowing plants along the streets make me dizzy.

Plus what happened just now...

Physical discomfort, I could deal with, but there are so many oddities here I can't even begin to understand yet.

The briefing videos Ægir provided were very detailed, but there's still so much that I couldn't comprehend, even after rewatching them so many times.

Food moves on its own without a fork. Clothes clean themselves without having to be removed. These things make sense, kind of.

But Edible Sagas? Crunchy Theorems? I just can't wrap my head around those. The best I can do for now is print out one of those emergency nutrition supply devices.

All my life I've known nothing but Gran Faro. Is this what it's like to...?

No, it's not quite like an Iberian from a backwater village seeing the capital for the first time. Not that the City of Gold still exists.

The difference here isn't one between a small town and a metropolis, but... almost between two entirely different civilizations.

I tried to ask someone for directions, but couldn't understand what they were saying, or whether I was being rude to interrupt.

I don't even know how they see me—an Ægir in name only.

I have my concerns, too.

You're worried too?

You of all people know what Iberia did to the Ægir after the Profound Silence.

I don't know what kind of country Ægir is, how its people view that period of bloodshed, or how they view me—an emissary with blood on her hands.

But you didn't—

I'm here representing the Iberian Inquisition. I've seen the files on the slaughters... Each report on its own may be thin, but in aggregate...

We committed many injustices while cleansing the influence of the Church of the Deep, and the Islanders were the most affected.

I still believe the Inquisition was in no position to be lenient, not when the country itself teetered on the brink.

It was our collective decision that we should go to any lengths to ensure the nation's survival in a time of extraordinary crisis.

But that does not lessen our crime.

I don't believe you need worry about that.

Growing a massive vesicle to resist a blast from Class III weaponry, and covering the retreat of the other Seaborn into the depths of the trench...

How is it even possible for biological tissue to be made to resist the forces of a micro-singularity?

The Sea Patrol brought back tissue samples. They've already been sent to your lab through the transport tubes.

At least they haven't yet developed a collective resistance to Class III weaponry like they have for Classes I and II.

The performance of Class III weaponry is demonstrably superior.

But even more concerning is that an individual Seaborn has evolved measures specifically to counter it. They're more... organized than before.

You've been analyzing the Seaborn's adaptation to various weaponry ever since Milliarium set sail. Did you already foresee this?

...

Advisor Blandus?

To an extent. But we need more time to confirm our theories.

Thank you, Secunda.

Your reports are always so detailed I dare not blink for fear of missing something. Little Handy, get me some eyedrops.

Ignore that command, Little Handy. Just a bad joke.

If there's nothing else, I'll be going. I need to speak to the technicians about the damage suffered by our ships.

I'd rather you stay just a while longer, unless you're hurrying to get some rest after work.

Isn't it somewhat ironic, considering you've also received numerous health warnings but haven't seen a doctor yet?

...Very well. Still, I'd appreciate it if you could hear me out. It won't take long. I just need to confirm something—

Have you read Gladiia's report?

I have.

Then you should know about Ulpianus. I thought you'd at least show some sort of reaction.

Of course I'm concerned about the reappearance of the Abyssal Hunters after five years of silence. Especially when the Waterway Program is at a key juncture.

And Ulpianus's unusual activities are of particular note.

He clearly made contact with Gladiia's group and is aware of Milliarium, but has made no attempt to reestablish communications with Ægir.

Meanwhile, we've heard from our Iberian sources that he's also declined to work with Iberia.

He may be proud—arrogant even—but he is no fool. He must have his reasons for acting alone.

Regardless, I intend to find out where he is and what he's planning.

That utilitarianism, that impatience... he's rubbed off on you. We had hoped you'd be better than that.

I can only pray your decision-making will be more prudent while tracking him.

Nevertheless, I have faith that you'll keep me updated on his whereabouts.

What are you talking about, Advisor Blandus?

Neither of us is part of the Abyssal Hunter program anymore.

You're the weapons technology advisor for the Waterway Program now. Aren't utilitarian, impatient decisions the usual business in your field?

And shouldn't you be getting information about Ulpianus from Milliarium's official sources? Why involve me?

Of course, of course.

Just a momentary lapse in judgment. I can't fault you for carrying out your duty as Praefecta of the Sea Patrol.

I just ask that you remember what Ulpianus did for us, for Ægir.

I'm on my way.

Who's missing?

One of the technicians on the Waterway Program has gone AWOL.

And you are...?

Avitus, from the Institute of Prehistoric Studies, Academy of Science. We study the documents and artifacts of the prehistoric civilization.

Irene, emissary of the Iberian Inquisition.

Jordi. Jordi Fontanarossa.

A pleasure to make your acquaintance.

And don't worry, I didn't come to lecture you. I simply felt it was my duty as a citizen of Ægir to free our landbound friends from their needless concerns.

Needless concerns?

What I mean to say is, Ægir understands that Iberia took measures proportionate to the extraordinary nature of the times.

We can find similar periods in our own history, or even that of the glorious prehistoric civilization.

The exclusion of outsiders as a necessary means of maintaining social order appears to be an inevitable step in the progress of civilization.

Besides, we welcome our displaced countrymen to return to the sea, just as we respect the decision of those who have opted to leave.

The consequences of their choices belong only to them.

I appreciate Ægir's magnanimity, Avitus, but the 'consequences' they suffered were...

No, it's nothing. Thank you for clarifying.

You're welcome—

Mr. Avitus, our landbound guests, please be informed that this area has been designated for investigation.

You are advised to proceed to another area unless you have unresolved matters here.

A Hand of the Saint?

The Penal Battalion used them to clean up Seaborn remains, but I never knew they could talk.

Apparently, our people who brought them to land did not have time to demonstrate their full capabilities.

Multi-purpose Support Equipment, commonly known as a 'Little Handy.' They currently offer 972 different function modules, excluding obsolete ones.

One can sometimes tell their affiliation just by looking at the parts and paintjob. This one, for example, belongs to the Sea Patrol.

Er, should I reply?

Um, we're very sorry, Little Handy, er, sir.

That would be unnecessary. It may be equipped with a voice, but that doesn't mean it's intelligent.

I assumed that with your technology, maybe...

It's true that the topic of simulated personalities has fascinated many a researcher.

The first attempt was created 230 years ago and continues to operate to this day. In fact, I can put in an application for you, if you wish to talk to it.

However, whether from the perspective of neuroscience, psychology, sociology, or anthropology, simulated personalities have proven to be rather disappointing in terms of their benefits to research.

Perhaps I've gone off topic, though. In short, they've remained the stuff of niche research, and we do not consider them suitable for widespread application.

The goal of all technological development is to empower humanity. What purpose is there in turning a machine into a human?

I see. Fascinating.

You said this Little Handy belonged to the Sea Patrol?

Only they would fit such powerful loudspeakers onto one, when quieter means of communication are available. I suppose you could consider it retro?

What sort of organization are they? Do they frequently undertake such investigations?

The Sea Patrol is part of our Legions. They perform a supporting role in combat, as well as regular reconnaissance, patrol, security, and disaster response duties.

Emergency sweeps like this are rare, but with the Waterway Program at such a critical moment, it's only reasonable for them to be on high alert.

Little Handy, am I allowed to remain here?

It is not recommended, but not forbidden.

Then I'll wait here. I'd like a chance to speak to the Sea Patrol.

Very well. And you, Jordi?

I'll be going. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?

Of course not. There's a limit to what I can answer outside of my specialty, though.

Perhaps I could show you to a place better suited for such a conversation.

The Sophontheatrum.

Did you sleep well, Doctor? You seem a little haggard.

Yes, the Ægir seem to have retained some of their aquatic traits.

Are you not feeling well?

Is it serious?

Let me know if you feel any discomfort.

Besides...

To be frank, I thought there may be another reason for your reaction.

Does anything about Ægir or the depths of the ocean seem familiar to you?

So you do remember something?

I'm accustomed to your usual silence, but now it's making me a little uneasy.

I know it might be difficult, but remembering even the slightest detail could be of great help to us all.

It's okay, just try to relax, Doctor.

Seeing the Preserver has inevitably hastened the pace at which you recall the truth... Even though I had hoped you would not touch upon what you'd forgotten so quickly.

No one knows when your path of suffering will end. Not even yourself. In that, we are all powerless.

What we do know is that you've had an encounter with the abyss. The ocean is yet another path to your past, and we are finally upon it.

Yes. I've wanted to set foot in Ægir countless times.

Until now, I have waited on the shore, and drifted on the waves.

I have witnessed lighthouses and the armada turn from ideas to reality. Breogan had never given up on reestablishing communication with Ægir through such means.

But all his efforts ended in failure. Ægir never welcomed home their prodigal son, much less opened their doors to outsiders.

But now, they are even more eager to cooperate than I had anticipated. We need no longer waste efforts to persuade a proud and aloof giant.

I can't deny feeling happy about that.

I'm afraid there is.

Ægir's proactive stance indicates that they have a plan for making contact with the land.

But even the most moderate of their measures may seem too radical for landbound civilization. A single gesture of goodwill could cause a massive storm.

The Hunters' situation warrants concern, too.

To Ægir, they are neither emissaries nor guests.

Having participated in the most radical project in Ægir's history, and 'come back to life' after being declared dead for five years... I worry that their return home would only cause—

Trouble?

Controversy?

Where's Gladiia?

A somewhat troublesome fellow called her away.

I thought your priority upon returning would be to get checked up. What could possibly be more urgent?

No idea.

But once Gladiia's done with her interview, I guess Skadi and I are gonna go do some stupid check-up.

Swordfish and I are fine. Shark's changes might be a little problematic.

I read some medical papers before I underwent the surgery.

Even back then, they had advanced knowledge of medulla regeneration and replacement. They should be able to help her.

You needn't worry, Doctor.

I've inspected myself in the mirror on that great ship. On returning, those endless dreams still creep up on me like bubbles, but they've also become as light as bubbles.

Besides, I feel like I'd have more regrets about losing those dreams.

But for now, I'm as lucid as I've ever been. And luckily for you, I'm even in the mood to take you on a tour of the city.

Interested?