Chương 204: Chapter Two Hundred and Four

Connecting to Alpia's final soul bond is a completely different experience to the bond I have with her, or the two-faced bond she has with different aspects of the Emperor. Mine and Alpia's soul bonds with the Emperor feel like a connection with a Human who is so great in scope that one cannot comprehend their strength or trust one's own interpretation of what they are seeing. Through it, one feels a connection to their species roots, as if they are a small part of a greater gestalt.

It is a distinctly religious experience and without my education, personal strength, and protections, I would be completely overwhelmed by it, entirely unable to see beyond the Emperor's furious light. To those less informed, and even myself, it is exceptionally difficult to view the Emperor as anything other than a deity, even if he is only a nascent Warp entity of great power, slowly shedding the trappings of flesh. Alpia's final soul bond instantly reminds me of my connection with the noosphere.

I feel like I am engaging in a series of permissions that are happening without my input. Unlike the noosphere, I have absolutely no idea what is occurring, or how the bond is authorising my access. The best I can tell is that the process feels automated. I am tempted to pull back, but I need to know exactly who has forcefully bound my daughter, so I push on, seeking answers. One moment I am sitting next to Alpia, the next, my primary mind is whisked away to a vast, glass maze.

Every glass wall panel is inscribed with strings of binary code that stretch into the distance. Above and below me are transparent, glowing pipes with brass rings every few metres, connecting the different sections that mark the constantly splitting and merging lines of glowing pipes.

The pipes' contents remind me of plasma conduits, yet within the cloud of flowing, super heated cloud of charged particles, I see jagged streaks of lightning and the constant zip of tiny particles, like alpha particles leaving trails through foggy chambers. The effect is incredible, if utterly bizarre, and I spare a moment to appreciate it, easing my tensions. Refocusing on my task, I follow a string of code embedded inside the glass walls. It contains a partial algorithm for data modelling.

Rather than the complete, yet incorrect information I found in Marabas' library, the knowledge within the maze walls matches data I already know from several other sources, letting me fill in the blanks. The code does, however, hint at greater mysteries, leaving me with more questions than answers. The next bit of binary code provides some astrological data for a star system. It does not identify the system, or include sufficient data to filter a result from my own records.

This pattern of partial data repeats itself every time I follow a new string of numbers and when I return to my point of entry, I discover that all the data in the walls has been rewritten, and replaced with a new puzzle. I believe this is the realm of the Machine-God. The maze contains all known data, it may even be directly connected to the Akashic Records, the hypothesised depository of all knowledge.

There was once a Mechanicum Adept, Koriel Zeth, who tried to create a machine, the Akashic Reader, that could access the Akashic Records via psykers. She was assaulted by Horus Lupercal's supporters and, after being assaulted by assassins from the Sisters of Cydonia and her city attacked by an army sent by the Fabricator-General, Kelbor-Hal, she blew up Magma City, a city on Mars that was built inside an active volcano. Its destruction denied the heretics any chance of accessing her Akashic Reader.

It is unknown if she ever completed her great work. The Akashic Reader's destruction was arguably the greatest loss the Imperium and Mechanicus have ever suffered. I do not know if the Machine-God's realm is related to the Akashic Records, but that it might bear similarities is as significant as finding a working adaptive Standard Template Construct. I believe that walking through the Machine-God's domain is a representation of the quest for knowledge.

The pipes beneath my feet and above my head are the motive force. However, I tamp down my excitement. None of the information I can read tells me what I want to know. It's just random, infinite data in an infinite maze, knowledge without direction or purpose. Knowledge for the sake of knowledge. Like the billions of Tech-Priests before me, I could spend a lifetime blindly searching for meaning. Without a guide, there is nothing here for anyone and I am not so desperate I feel compelled to search for one.

Such lessons would not be free. I am not dismissing it entirely as an avenue of research, but leery of taking on more tasks from powerful entities. I have enough trouble already paying my Tithe to the Emperor. The 'favour' of another deity is entirely beyond me. Should I ever complete all my projects, I may return here to seek new inspiration. I do not know what the Machine God wants, or even what they really are other than a Warp entity shaped by the belief of its worshipers.

The Machine-God likely created its bond with Alpia with a distinct goal in mind, and not knowing what that is unsettles me greatly. At least the Emperor has defined goals: to end the Ruinous Powers and uplift Humanity under his control. These goals have valid evidence: the unification of Mankind during the Great Crusade and the removal of all faiths.

The hurried and brutal campaign suggests there was a limited window of time in which the Emperor could complete his goals and set the tone for Imperial subtly for the next ten millennia. Ironically, it was this bolter first approach that opened the gap in Imperial diplomacy that made the Horus Heresy possible in the first place. The only evidence I have of the Machine-God is the better performance of machines when one properly venerates the spirits within and the overt blessing within Dying Light's systems.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. It is quite telling that a properly blessed machine consistently performs within specification and requires less maintenance than one that is ill-tended. A blessed machine is also far more adept at resisting the corruption of the Warp, something I have seen first hand on Dying Light.

I also know that the Emperor likely distrusts and fears the Machine-God, assuming my interpretation of the suspect emotions pressed upon me after the Machine-God's blessing are correct. I do not know why the Emperor might dislike the Machine-God, especially when the Mechanicus views the Emperor and the Omnissiah, the Machine-God's prophet. I suspect that the Machine-God is weaker than the Emperor too. Why would the Emperor fear a weaker Warp entity or potential deity?

The Emperor does not strike me as one who fears competition. There is, however, one being that might know more about this subject than I do. A being that lived through the Old Night, and possibly the Cybernetic Revolt as well. With no further, relevant knowledge to be gained in the Machine-God's strange Warp domain, withdraw my attention from the bond. Unable to let go of my concerns, I hold Alpia' hand, then I close my eyes.

"E-SIM, what, exactly, is the Machine-God?" ++Extraordinary claims require equally outrageous evidence. If the non-functional device slowly floating towards me is what I think it is, I will answer your question when it arrives. This device will provide context and evidence of my claims. Until then, your current understanding of Warp entities is sufficient. Even if I did tell you everything I know, it would not change your current circumstances, or help you resolve the bond the Machine-God has with your daughter.

++ I sigh. I have no way of forcing information from E-SIM and it only ever tells me what it thinks I should know and its directives permit it to tell me, directives that have likely been compromised by the Emperor. What's worse is that E-SIM is completely blind to this sabotage.

E-SIM has never given any hint of being more than what it says it is: an ancient machine intended to facilitate better understanding between intelligent organic beings and machines, and prevent the stagnation of Human development due to over reliance on thinking machines. In some ways, Humanity really did shoot itself in the foot by creating STCs. I've never forgotten that E-SIM told me its sapience is disabled. E-SIM is arguably sentient. It has its own personality and preferred approach to problem solving.

I am, however, unsure where it stands on emotional development as its range of emotions often come across as narrow, and limited. Its morality is alien to me, though it does understand my own and makes suggested actions based on my own preferences. This makes it hard to tell if it has a morality of its own, other than its determination to complete its directives. This ambiguity leaves its sentience in question.

As for its sapience, it acts rationally, reasons, and learns, or at least gives an impression of such good enough to fool me. For all I know, such were the skills of the people who created it, they could provide such a large database to pull answers from that E-SIM can imitate sapience without actually being so. That it is capable of sapience is particularly telling, regardless of where it pulls its data from.

E-SIM does not set its own directives though, but dogmatically follows the ones it was given, nor does it ever entertain the idea of performing actions that do not lead towards completing its prime objective. Is a being that will never determine its own goals sapient? How can one show wisdom, one of the key indicators of sapience, if they are unwilling to look beyond a purpose that they never determined for themselves? Like with sentience, E-SIMs status as a sapient is unclear. E-SIM is, at least, self-aware.

It is the only Machine-Spirit I know that refers to itself as 'I'. Imperial Machine-Spirits always refer to themselves by their designation, or in a subservient fashion, such as 'This Spirit'.

I do not know if this conversational quirk is due to a lack of self-awareness, or a language choice based on self-preservation, a Machine-Spirit evolution driven by the Mechanicus' paranoia over general artificial intelligence, specifically those with self-determination, and thus, potentially willing to escape the control of the Mechanicus.

The threat of a new Cybernetic Revolt is partially why Machine-Spirits are always so narrow in scope, unable to copy themselves, and almost always stuck within the machine they inhabit, though they can communicate outside of it via the noosphere. Even Machine-Spirits like Aruna and Sadako, with their god-like power, do not look far beyond the purpose of their own vessels. I think this uncertainty of their state of existence is what makes Machine-Spirits difficult to understand.

That machine intelligences, beings that work off a set of precisely defined instructions, are so difficult to define, is incredibly ironic. All of those thoughts coalesce in a single question. Do I trust E-SIM's judgement? I've always taken it at its word when it is advising me about my own survival because its goals are linked to my continued existence, but can I trust its judgement regarding the safety of my daughter?

One could argue that I don't have a choice, so it doesn't matter, but that feels too close to kicking the metaphorical can down the road. E-SIM has never given me reason to doubt it and it is more than smart enough to know that ruining our relationship would compromise its ability to follow its directives, let alone how screwed I'd be without its help. As much as I want to doubt and yell at E-SIM, that isn't going to help, nor does it deserve my scepticism. The mystery will have to wait.

It did imply it knew what the Machine-God was though, which is remarkable. I really want to flop in my chair, raise my eyes to the ceiling, and wave a stick at it while cursing. My age must be getting to me. Instead, I decide that there is nothing I can do about these additional bonds that Alpia has with two deities, other than continue to be the best Dad I can manage: listen to her when she speaks, help her when she asks, but otherwise leave her to make her own mistakes.

That being a good Dad, in this case, means doing nothing, particularly irks me. I want to offer solutions, dammit! Preferably with a boltgun. Patting Alpia's hand one last time, I stand, preparing to return to work. I detect movement behind the curtain hiding the navigator family and frown. Now I have the honour of telling those kids and their mother that their Dad is dead. What a disgrace.