Goddess of the Galacticide Episode 7 - Controlling the Narrative

Episode 7

“Do you want to make her a hero?” asked Lotnuuk Rrupteemaa. “A dangerous proposition, my old friend. And maybe not the smartest play here.”

Across the table sat Gameng Sakp, 88th Member of the Assembly. They shared membership of several committees and program boards—some public, some secret—but Gameng was anything but Lotnuuk’s friend.

“I am leading this inquiry as I see fit. Assembly Members Raar and Me-Ruu have testified already, and now it is the turn for Linuka Omga.”

Lotnuuk Rrupteemaa sighed when he rose his lanky body out of the conference room chair. He shuffled over to the door controls, reassuring himself that the Blackroom setting was still ‘on’, fortifying the small room inside the government annex against surveillance; electronic, acoustic, and otherwise. Sadly, none of the sophisticated measures would help against someone like the Omga girl, Linuka.

Lotnuuk had felt her focus, for lack of a better word, when her gaze narrowed, taking aim at his head, conjuring up alternate realities. He had sensed a clump forming in his throat, hardening, restricting, ready to silence him. So many orbits had passed since the ritual that made him immortal, he could not remember any details of the ceremony. He had never feared for his life ever since, only until recently, and both incidents involved the same family. Kel Chaada, the galactic savior, had threatened to throw him out of an airlock. His cursed child also tried to deprive him of air, and her methods were frightening.

Gameng’s hands gestured for Lotnuuk to return to his seat. “Nothing to say, Assembly Member Rrupteemaa? If you think she is so dangerous, you wasted the opportunity to have her arrested along with the mutineers. The courts were prepared to sentence her to a lengthy imprisonment for treason, conspiracy, and unlawful detention. You fear her testifying before my inquiry board gives her a forum she does not deserve? That was your doing.”

Lotnuuk remained standing near the door, but turned to his colleague. “On board the battle cruiser, I had to make a split-tick decision: two cornered animals, a Traaz warrior prince and a multi-aware girl. De-fuse the situation by offering a way out, or have everyone die. I stand by my decision.”

Gameng’s eyes narrowed. “Girl, or animal? Inexperienced or dangerous? What is she now, Rrupteemaa? Decide.”

“She is both. The inexperience compounds the danger. At least her father would think a few steps ahead. She will just deal with the present, and anyone who she perceives as an enemy.”

Lotnuuk remembered when he first saw Linuka Omga. Her hands, broken at the wrist, dangling from her blood-soaked arms, bleeding from gunshot wounds to her abdomen, not caring about any of it. Captain Nyebjo, Lotnuuk’s enforcer, a mercenary, trained combatant, cold-hearted killer of whoever he was pointed at. He had sent Nyebjo to find Linuka Omga, to deal with her. They found his body, still clinching his weapon. The blood on Linuka Omga’s hands was his.

Lotnuuk’s stare met Gameng’s. “Do I fear her? Yes, I do. So should you. She is the first immortal-born human. She is multi-aware. More so: she can manipulate reality.”

“So, you fully believe the machine’s testimony? Me-Ruu’s claims of Linuka Omga killing this Diin Ṛũl and his army with a fake reality, a bubble universe of her own creation?”

“It stretches the imagination, yes. But the AI cores’ log files have proved unfalsifiable many times. We have to at least consider its version of the events.”

Gameng shook his head. “If reality can be bent that much, why would the AI’s perception of it be trustworthy? We cannot trust anything at this point.”

Lotnuuk sat back down at the small conference table. “Correct, and therein lies the danger. If we let everyone testify and make the recordings public as you intend, people will believe the narrative of the log files. It will make these rogues look like heroes of the inter-reality war. The public will not understand what the war was about or how it was fought, but they will hear that we won it. That it was Kel Chaada who destroyed the Dark One’s fleet, and his daughter who killed their warriors. And we put these heroes on trial? Chaada has used this before. This is how he joined the Assembly.”

“Chaada is dead now. If we decide to believe the log files,” said Gameng.

“Oh, he is dead.”

“You sound so certain.”

“I had the misfortune of traveling with the man. One thing I can attest to with certainty: he would never send his daughter back here alone. He has not returned, because he could not.”

“Maybe he got trapped in that fake universe.”

An interesting thought. Lotnuuk made a mental note of Gameng’s remark, tucking it away in his mind, not to be spoken of until the time was right. What he said was: “In any case, he is no longer present in this universe—dead for all practical purposes. Which would make him more dangerous than a hero—he would be a martyr, having given his life for the galaxy. A galaxy now indebted to his poor, lonely child. Believe me, Gameng, this is not the narrative you want to try controlling.”

Gameng frowned. “We are not controlling the narrative at all, so it seems.”

“We used to. When we were several steps ahead of everyone else, through experience. Now, a young girl can negate all of this,” said Lotnuuk. “Therefore she should not testify. We should let her go.”

Gameng Sakp’s mouth stood open for a few moments. “Let her go? First, you convince me she is the most dangerous being in the galaxy, and then you want to let her go?”

“We don’t have the means of containing her. Her powers. Not yet. We let her go, give her time to grief her father. Maybe she will think about re-claiming the Ancestor throne. She is clever. She will stay busy. Away from us. We shall lure her back in when we are ready, confront her on our terms, not hers.”

Gameng’s shoulders dropped. “I dislike the proposal. Playing for time seems risky. Especially since our program has made so little precious progress.”

“The Keyframe program?” asked Lotnuuk. “What is holding it back?”

“Observer irrelevance, as I was told. The test subjects have no relationship with the scenarios we are interested in. They are useless, despite assurance by the scientists about the system being near operational.”

No relationship. Lotnuuk tried to remember the confusing conversations he had to endure listening to when confined in a tiny starship with the father-daughter duo and their illustrious alien travel companions. Much of what made multi-awareness work seemed to require a close relationship between observer and the observed. “Causal connections,” he said out loud.

“I do not understand,” said Gameng.

“I got a solution for your inquiry board dilemma, my esteemed colleague, and it shall help to facilitate a breakthrough for the Keyframe program as well.” Lotnuuk smiled. “The marines who mutinied.”

“I see how that would make an excellent group to put full blame on if we desire to let everyone else go. But how can they help us with the interface?”

Lotnuuk glanced at the Blackroom setting again. Gameng was careless in mentioning the interface. The program was too valuable, and it running over time increased its risk for exposure.

“Let me worry about that,” he said. “You make certain these marines bear the full brunt of the law, then we offer them a way out.”

“Keyframe is not exactly a ‘way out’. What makes them so useful?”

“They are close to Linuka Omga. They have a—how did you phrase it—relationship?”

Gameng’s smile joined Lotnuuk’s. “I see, Assembly Member. I see. It shall be done.”

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