Return of the Enlightened God

[The Mindset]

The Empire was old. Forgotten, even. Where it once wielded power and authority like a bullwhip, it now shook its ancient fists in a feeble display of post-singularity vehemence. Gone were the days of multi-system colonial empires; its power gone in lieu of the sudden destruction of the Mindsetti cityships at the Battle of Midna Beta.

But those left behind, scattered across a dozen worlds, swearing allegiance to many and varied factions (all claiming to have inherited the vacuum left in the Empire’s wake) still clung like magnets to the memories; hoping that somewhere, out in the vastness of space, there lay the mythical fourth Mindsetti cityship just waiting for the right moment to return.

The Battle of Midna Beta, of the last great civil war, devastated the Empire. Some three billion souls lost their lives that day, as rogue AIs born from the complex cityship management routines decided humanity did not deserve to exist. They disabled the atmospheric thrusters of three compromised cityships. Survivors who managed to make it to a docked ship in time remember the spectacular sight of their five-hundred kilometre long homes beginning to burn up in the dense atmosphere of Midna IV, a thousand kilometre trail of phosphorous death stretching back like a scar over the planet. In eerie silhouette against the massive gas giant, the entire Mindsetti fleet exchanged fire with the rogue cityships, but were unevenly matched as their masers tore through their shielding like butter.

What happened next is unclear. The fleeing starships, pulling twelve gees in a desperate attempt to escape the effective range of the cityship defenses, claimed space behind them turned blacker than black. The effect was instantaneous, like a light being switched off. All sensors reported that the blackness behind them was void of anything – no radiation, no mass. Even the cosmic background noise disappeared momentarily. Then, as fast as the effect appeared, it was gone. And so was Midna IV. Eight minutes later, the star also vanished, as if it had been snuffed out like a candle. The entire planet, including the one uncompromised cityship, had vanished into thin air. Physicists had long since speculated that some unknown power had opened the largest wormhole ever recorded and deposited the planet somewhere far, far away. They still argued over the details but one thing they all agreed on was that the power requirements must have been inconceivable.

* * *

Martyn René hated freefall. The cramped shuttle was used to ferry passengers too and from the liner Prowler was too small and archaic to accommodate such luxuries as a gravity generator or inertial dampeners. Instead, he had to cope with the sudden and violent changes in acceleration. Martyn vomited for the fourth time into the little bag the steward had provided. It happily slurped up the foul smelling bile, preventing it from floating around to disturb the other passengers.

He cursed his boss. Jonsan was a good man, but assigning him to this report was nothing more than cruelty on his part. He was sure he’d done it to piss him off. He knew how much Martyn hated freefall. Besides, where was the story in a big empty bit of space? Martyn couldn’t see one. Midna Beta (or rather, the space it once occupied) was almost revered by some, believing it to be the scene of a miracle that proved their faith. The Prowler’s main clientele were these sort of people. They just seemed like crazy occultists to him. A minority were nostalgic pro-imperialists who longed for a return of Mindsetti power. He didn’t much like the sound of them either. Martyn couldn’t help but draw parallels to the ancient colonial empires of Earth, their dissolution and subsequent ridicule by the historians of antiquity ringing in his ears. Would The Mindset, once so grand and powerful, fall prey to the same fate?

He activated his virtual vision, its GUI popping up in his peripheral vision. A timer informed him that the shuttle was preparing to dock. He groaned. He hated this part.

* * *

S’God Paula was a short woman whose prominent, blunt facial features echoed her steely personality perfectly. She nodded curtly as S’God Barry acknowledged her presence and began to speak.

“S’God Barry, I’ve been informed that our supplies have successfully been unloaded. Everything seems to have made it through, I can’t see anything missing that’s on the manifold.â€