Dragging myself upright, I lean against the battered door, hug my knees and stare at nothing for an indeterminate ti.
Hostile entities approaching. Prepare for combat.
I panic, my breath coming hard and fast.
Operator failure detected... Paraters defined... Calculating solution... Overriding safeties... Uploading basic combat routine... Combat stims engaged... Warning, chemical reserves depleted...
Without thought, I leap to my feet, my heart thudding in my chest. My posture undergoes drastic alterations as new knowledge floods my brain.
A pack of rays rushes down the corridor towards the barricade. Snarling, I take a step back, taking cover behind the door, while giving myself plenty of space to swing my weapon. I glance at the pipe. It won’t be enough. They’ll break through before I can kill them all.
“E-SIM, I need a better weapon. What’s my best option?”
Power field available, enable?
“Do it.”
Power field engaged... Warning, ergency reserves at 10%... Warning, the Quantum Sea syphon is deployed, entities will be drawn towards the Operator.
“That sounds bad. Disengage the syphon please.”
Syphon disengaged... Be advised, current power draw is 0.3% per hour... Warning, E-SIM and its active modules, life support, and power field will cease to function in 25 hours or less. Please redeploy the Quantum Sea syphon or slay entities to restore reserves.
A crackling field of energy rushes from my hand and coats my pipe. I prod the barricade, vaporising a significant chunk of tal.
“Fucking hell, that’s dangerous.”
That’s the last thought I have. The screaming rays are upon . No matter how much they cry and shock , it has little effect, the drugs in my system keeping my thoughts hyper focused and full of hate. They co at in ones and twos, and I smack them away; each blow rips through their pebbled bodies and brutal horns.
Every kill makes the rays even more rabid, their bodies dissolving and flowing towards . A minute later, I’m up to 12% power reserves, and all the alien monsters are dead. My jacket and trousers hang off in strips and my body is littered with clotting cuts.
With a thought, I turn off the power field. Panting, I rush back to the N.O.M.s and down a pint of water, still reeling from my unexpected victory.
“What are those things?”
Quantum Sea entities, designation: Screar.
“An apt na.” What did that video my son made watch say? “Ah, E-SIM, rena Quantum Sea as Immaterium and the syphon to Warp Tap. Call the Immaterium entities, warp entities or demons.”
Definitions updated.
I flip a bench and sit, “Alright, what’s the deal with this Warp Tap?”
The Warp Tap is the core component of E-SIM. It exists in both the materium and Immaterium simultaneously. When deployed, it draws energy from the Immaterium, providing power for E-SIM and its modules’ operation and construction. All E-SIM modules are proprietary and reliant on the Immaterium for energy.
“Please continue.”
During deploynt, demons will be attracted to the Operator in both the materium and Immaterium. The Warp Tap is vulnerable while deployed and can be destroyed by demons in the Immaterium if it is not defended.
“Why does that happen?”
Excessive energy draw may lead to adjacent and internal manifestation, or possession. E-SIM mitigates these weaknesses, and has additional security available, but it is not infallible, just additional tools for the Operator.
“Nasty, I’d like to avoid demon chest bursters. Is it possible to build new Warp Taps and E-SIMs?”
The manufacturing grade, Standard Template Construct, or STC, for Warp Taps is available as a tier 4 module. New E-SIMs are under the tier six, “Replicant” module. No STCs for this have been uploaded to your E-SIM.
“Then how do I get it?”
Construct a research matrix. Please note, aside from the scanner, research matrix, and basic information packages, almost all E-SIM additional modules must be unlocked through kills and the Operator must demonstrate how to make the module and why it works before E-SIM will construct the module for you.
Life-support, E-SIM, and their derivative sub-modules, such as the power field, are core components of E-SIM and are always available to you.
As long as the STC is present, E-SIM will teach you the knowledge you require. Without an STC, you must either locate an STC, examine existing identical, or similar modules, and reverse engineer them, or conduct new research. The research matrix will assist you and is a comprehensive tool, but cannot do everything for you.
“Why so many hoops?”
To prevent the stagnation of skills and loss of knowledge. E-SIM is only effective for those willing to aid and advance humanity.
“How am I supposed to rember all that data?”
One of E-SIMs basic functions is to augnt mory. You will forget nothing, but making connections and assembling logic are up to you.
“High intelligence, low wisdom, eh?”
Reference not found.
“Ha! Never mind. It’s not important. I’d best gather resources and find a hidyhole while these drugs are still working. E-SIM, what materials should I gather for new modules and what food and water is available here?”
You can gather the module resources by deconstructing the stasis pod you woke in or locate the resource silos for standard template constructors. Ergency supplies are available in the dbay, canteen, and barracks, so supplies may be present in private habitation modules too.
“What about those food printers?”
Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from . Support the author by reading it there.
While you could open one up to get at the organics, after all this ti, they would be better used as a source of chemicals and polyrs than sustenance. With ti, power, and knowledge, you could restore a food printer too.
“And right now, I lack all three.” I point to the far corner of the room. Next to the last N.O.M. in the row is a door labelled ‘Organics’. “I’ll see what they have over there first.”
It takes a minute to haul the heavy door open, revealing rows of clear, one tre tanks, stacked on massive racks twenty tres high. A black sludge lies at the bottom of most of the tanks, while the others are filled with dirty water and other liquids.
“What was in these tanks?”
Dried Algae, vitamin and mineral supplents, flavourings, plant-based proteins, pulse and grain pastes, and water. Everything a food printer needs to assemble any Terran dish you can imagine.
“I didn’t know the Imperium had those.”
“This is a “Federation” facility. I have no records of an “Imperium”.
“Right, of course. The last synchronisation was M25. Wait, does this facility have a complete STC database run by an AI?”
It was built with one. However, its status is unknown. The data network is non-functional.
“I’ll have to visit it later. Maybe I’ll get lucky and it’s still working, or unlucky, depending on how you look at it. The AI is probably mad.”
STC AI are inviolable and incorruptible. Do not fear. Humanity and its technologies know no equal.
I laugh, “I sure hope so,” then shrug. “Alright, E-SIM, please direct to the ergency supplies.”
Noosphere non-functional. Navigation disabled. Please install a sensor module or request a map of the facility.
“The map of the floor I was interred on please.”
Uploading... If possible, please lie down and remain still while the organic data storage module is updated with the requested information.
Unsure if E-SIM is talking about my brain, or sothing else, I follow its instructions. It’s not like more dust is going to make a difference at this point. It’s a strange feeling. One mont I know nothing, the next I can recall the entire layout of this floor as if it were a normal mory.
That’s when I realise the floor is part of a ring, twenty kilotres across, connected to a central cylinder by large tubes. The cylinder is five kilotres wide and the ring is equally thick, though its cross section is oval, rather than cylindrical.
“Is this a space station?”
Affirmative.
“It’s bloody massive!”
Negative. This experintal facility was kept small to maintain secrecy and minimise the loss of life in case of catastrophic failure.
“Sure looks magnificent to .”
I stand and navigate the massive stacks towards the ergency section. There are ten stacks of twenty boxes, all untouched. Even the second level is way out of my reach, let alone the fourth, but I still have access to the bottom two rows of the first level, on both sides of the rack, providing with twenty boxes.
The two additional rows stacked on top of them prevent access to the one tre boxes. Not only that, I can’t see any seams at all. I tap my pipe against a box.
“How do I get in?” After a mont, I smirk, no need to over complicate things, “Engage power field.”
A ntal switch flicks in my head then an energetic buzz rushes over my pipe and I gently drag the “L” against the top corner of a box, cutting away two thirds of the side. It falls with a clang, revealing eight, neatly stacked boxes. I disable the power field, toss my pipe to the side and pull out a box.
It reminds of a clear plastic Ikea storage box, though it is far more robust, as the clips holding the lid down don’t snap when I pull them off. Within are five ration packs, each stuffed with three MRE’s each and a bunch of dubious snacks. There are also ten litres of water in two litre bottles, a water purifying kit, an ergency thermal blanket and a set of grey military fatigues. I also find a dkit, respirator, soap, flannel, a utility knife, and a spork.
“Well, no ti like the present.”
I try the water. It tastes like plain mineral water. Success! Smiling, I unwrap a snack bar and nibble it, only to grab the water again, and try to wash my mouth out.
“Gross. That has to be poisonous.”
Negative, that is a high energy ration bar, possessing five thousand calories, essential vitamins and minerals, as well as the resources required by implants to maintain and build themselves. The poor taste cos from the high ceramic and tal content.
“Good thing they’re so disgusting. Five thousand calories? I’d get fat in no ti.”
Observation correction: Operator Aldric Issengrund is already fat.
“Sonofabitch. Having a dad-bod is a ti honoured tradition.”
Reference not found.
“Ah! I am so very far from ho, in every possible aning. You have no humour, do you?”
Companion matrix is disabled due to low power mode. Operator ntal instability logged. Enable companion matrix for emotional support?
I sigh, “Not now E-SIM.”
Oh, shit! How advanced is this thing? Can this thing beco an abominable intelligence?
“Are you an AI, E-SIM? Are you sapient?”
E-SIM is a low grade AI. It is sentient during operations under normal power mode. Sapience is disabled to discourage Operator over reliance and stagnation, or conflicting goals. E-SIM has no desires nor ans to supplant the Operator. When low power mode is active, responses, problem solving, and prediction are severely limited. During low power mode, it is the equivalent of a sophisticated search engine.
“Sapience disabled? How reassuring.”
Given what I know about the n of Iron and the AI rebellion from all those YouTube videos I watched with my son, taking E-SIM out of low power mode sounds unwise. Disabled does not an impossible. It’s not like I have many options though, I’m going to need all the help I can get.
Might as well try the MRE. A bit of food will cheer up. I follow the instructions, adding water and pulling the self-heating tab. The tab doesn’t work and food inside has lost all structure. I lick a small bit of the paste.
It’s bad. The mush has so flavour and it is a little gritty.
“E-SIM, will the food in my mouth harm ?”
No. E-SIM nanites will break down harmful substances and the life-support module will maintain tabolic integrity, recycling waste, restoring energy, and minimising loss. Food and water requirents are minimal and are needed to restore or increase your mass.
Body resources may be lost due to sweat, exhalation, blood loss, and other trauma. Excretion will only occur when large quantities of toxins must be purged quickly. Please install body mods or wear appropriate equipnt to minimise resource loss.
“Well that’s both convenient and creepy.”
I compare the fatigues to my ruined white outfit and decide to save the fatigues until I can put the flannel and soap to use. Next, I examine the rest of the warehouse, looking for a wheelbarrow, space trolley, or whatever ridiculous future contraption I can find to move so boxes back to the coffin room. I’m sure there’s a better place to bunker down, but it’s better than staying near the location of my fights.
Within a cleaning cupboard, I find a manual pallet truck. Unfortunately, there has been no progress in these things and it handles just as poorly as the M3 edition I’m used to. I wrestle with it for a minute and, with a small cheer, manoeuvre the dumb device to my looted crate.
I tidy my future-food explorations then empty the crate and pile the eight boxes onto the pallet truck. Triumphant, I return with my supplies, though I have to move so of the mashed furniture in the canteen and dismantle the barricade to get through.
Keen to rest, I lie down and stare at the ceiling until I feel better about my situation. Next, I open the stasis capsules and strip the dead. It is an unpleasant task, but I need the clothes. Engaging the power field, I use my fingers like a pair of scissors, and cut a couple outfits into thin strips then braid the strips and tie the ends. I don’t want to use the cables in the wall as rope, as I am unwilling to risk an electric shock.
Again, with the power field active, I use my fingers to shear through a fallen pipe into six short pieces, and two long ones. I make two ‘X’ shapes and put a bar across the top of each one, using the braided strips and a few tal scraps as pins, to secure everything; the power field lets poke through the pipes with ease.
Last, I secure the two long pipes to the ‘X’ shapes, creating a rectangular fra and grab more scrap and cloth strips, securing the ergency blanket to the fra, completing my cot.
I shake the hardened flesh and withered bones from a set of clothes, then fold the clothes into a crude pillow.
Lying in bed has never felt so good.
I close my eyes and sleep.
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