middleofsomewhere | What their Eyes See: Optional Ongoing

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What their Eyes See: Optional Ongoing

By day eight the Voidtreckers have made a good deal of progress in all their tasks but there is still a lot to do to help the people of the city.

It is around mid morning when there is a message on their comms. For those that want to help it is easy to either find Anan herself or ask for netpoints and scanners to be brought to them by Chiff.

Illusions have gotten worse, uncertainty and fear are rising across all tiers and the situation is becoming more chaotic by the day. Indeed especially on the first and second tiers it seems that the voidtreckers themselves are being targeted, with creatures stalking them and attacks on their minds to make them believe that what they are seeing is real.

Same inside the Spectura system, the vines seem to almost be on the offensive against the voidtreckers though things are getting better outside the game system as more of the vicitms are freed and wake up.

Almost opposite to the situation on the lowest tier, which is getting more chaotic by the day. Anger is bubbling over, people are frightened and in a place like this the only real way to express that fear is through anger.

There has been a lot of progress but there is still a lot of work to do, especially as many of the voidtreckers have started to realise, this all seems a little too familiar.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Even if it doesn't log, she can hear it."

Murderbot - whom has followed everyone else inside, leaving its drones out - seems quite certain of that.

"You should already be assuming that anywhere she has a component- she's listening." Whether or not she cares is another thing, but that's besides the point. "I'm not surprised there's stuff she hasn't told us, but if she didn't want us to know, period, we wouldn't have had the opportunity to talk about it."

Someone's a little paranoid. Though- it does glance at Ghost, and after a deep breath, as if it's preparing for something it doesn't want to do...

"...can you make white noise." Y'know. Something to 'feed' to their units while this is going on.

Edited 2021-05-19 19:00 (UTC)

"I'm figurin' that's right." About the train being able to listen in some capacity while they're on it. Probably even in the quiet carriage. "Kitchen shit an' some sorta music usually makes pretty decent background noise."

But still, he says, "Not that I'm doubtin' it wants to keep stuff from us-" He's got a lot of strong feelings about not being allowed to leave, and that's at least one small reason to keep stuff from them. "-but what makes Anan more trustworthy? Bein' acquainted with the void?"

Because it feels like the train is chasing something, and it could very well be her.

"I always assumed conversations on the SCAs and ICPs were logged," Soldat puts in, not particularly phased by this. It's not news, and it's not anything they'd consider a problem. The Beacon network did the same thing, albeit with the ability for individuals to search them, unlike the train. And, well, they live in the train. Of course she listens to everything.

Soldat, of course, has less standard ideas about privacy than your average person.

He tilted his head at Siebren as though he was surprised. "I take it you haven't gone searching for books recently." Senku observed. "Things like what the void is, how the train works, if there are other factions, how the whole system works." He waved his hand. "All of these topics are being gatekept by the train."

"Anan said that off the ICP, nothing was logged, but if we can still be heard, we're gonna find out real fast when we get back on board." Senku admitted. "If not, then we can assume at that point that there is some degree of safety."

He considered the latter question. "I considered that, and approached Anan with a degree of skepticism and mistrust, however she was willing to put herself in a vulnerable position to be helpful and more than that, I was just as vulnerable at the time and she made no move to harm me. I truly believe she wants to assist us. This is excellent news on the whole. It's not just anyone who will consent to removing their SCA for me, nor should they." Senku explained.

"She gave me a data point for my experiment." He was completely unrepentant about that. "And she gave me a ton of information we've been searching for."

"In general, probably," Ghost says, with a tilt of his head towards Rin. "But the train stuff is more stubborn than normal tech. I'm pretty sure she's only letting me affect it when she wants to."

Which in this case probably wouldn't work.

"That said, if the train really didn't want us talking to Anan, I don't think it would have taken her call," Ghost says. "I'm not sure what that points to, but it's something to keep in mind for all this."

Leia was quite happy to take a seat on one of the comfy couches, listening as Senku and the others talked. But it wasn't until Ghost spoke up that she felt the need to interject something into the conversation. "Agreed," she said. "And also, even if certain information is being kept from us, we shouldn't automatically assume that there's some sort of malicious intent behind it. I admittedly haven't been on board very long, but aside from its questionable recruitment methods- which I'll admit are an issue-, the train as an entity seems fairly benign."

"I'm going to respectfully disagree." Senku said. "I don't think the call for help is a specific call, I think it's more like a beacon signal of sorts. The train gets scant information, or at least, it gives scant information about problems in the world. I didn't ask Anan how she activated the call, and now I'm annoyed at myself for not doing so." He frowned a little bit. "The train has never identified the individual who pressed the call button for help before."

Senku sighed heavily. "Anan does not normally have an entrance to our comms either." He said, because he knew where that was going. "She hacked into one of our SCA bracelets."

"On the subject of the train, you may be right that it might not be malicious. Anan said that it cannot lie. It's origins are a machine, and sentience is a matter of debate, but at the same time our voidcraft is nothing like hers in a lot of ways. And I mean malicious as in intending to do us harm but it is very deliberately blocking us from the information that would help us understand, information that is given to every other void traveller, and would prevent us from finding a way to escape. It should be remembered it very much is holding us against our wills."

"I know I have been told the train is not good at communicating or understanding us and our needs," Soldat comments. They aren't necessarily a trusting creature, but they also understand that sometimes withholding intel is the smart, safe move. (Like not telling Steve some of our shit. Or just not getting into the person thing anymore.)

So here, they need all the intel before they can decide: "What exactly is it she is hiding?"

"For a long time, we've been trying to get information about what the void is, how the train works, what rules govern void travel, more information about the ministry or other factions, voidsickness and what to do about it, the tethers...Essentially, anything at all that would help us understand the situation we're in." Senku answered. "It's not just me, a lot of people have asked and gotten nowhere. Even something seemingly innocuous as to how to keep time on the train has been met with stonewalling and sidestepping requests."

He exhaled. "Anan was able to fill some of that in. Trust her or don't, I know where my opinion lies and that's based on my experience. I would suggest that she at least has offered this information. Some of what she told me shines a light on why the information is being kept from us, but it's not a good thing."

Senku waved his hand a bit, they could argue semantics and intentions later. "Beginning with the void itself. It's not a void, per se, it's a dimension of sorts. This isn't that surprising because voids don't have anything in them and this one clearly does. We know from the information from both the train and Anan that there are parts that are light and parts that are dark. Anan said the movement between them is for the mental health of the people on board as part of adjusting their systems to void travel."

"Then there is the matter of the train itself." He continued. "Void trains typically have a crew, which presumably would be us in this case, and that crew typically has access to the engine room carriage."

"Which we emphatically do not have," Ghost says. He's spent more than his share of time hanging out at that door, because being on the far end of storage - where people don't typically spend a lot of time in the first place - it's one of the few places he can get a psychic breather.

"To the point that I think a lot of people just forget that that door is even there. It's a good place to hide, and some of our habitual patrollers include it - " He gives a nod in Soldat's direction, there. " - but that's about it. I could set up an office up there and I'm not sure anyone would notice."

Yondu nods in confused confirmation about the crew thing being strange, wondering if he knows any more about that. "I actually asked her if she could tell any older crew she came across that the train been actin' funny and she said that there weren't any missing crew or I guess former crew that come forward."

His face twists up in some confusion.

"I'm with Senku on why she'd keep stuff to herself. Most obvious tactic you use to keep people is don't give 'em what they know to leave. Wouldn't be surprised if that's why some people up an' disappear too."

“From what we know, from the train, the former crew is lost. Asking questions leads to the train screaming at us to find them.” Senku said with a bit of a frown. “But that’s not terribly helpful. Good to know, but not helpful in finding the origin point.”

“I’m no longer debating on the sentience, it’s clear she’s a sentient being.” Senku acknowledged. “If a flawed one, but the biggest single count against the train is the fact we’re being captured and held against our wills. I have no desire to push my will on anyone else. I only want people to be given the choice. I’m not suggesting everyone has to go home.” He said, by way of explanation.

“I, however, have to. You know these catastrophe missions? That’s my world. Catastrophe’s already happened and I have an important role there.” He said all too seriously. “I’m filling a lot of roles at home that don’t exist otherwise and keeping people alive.” That was his biggest defense. He had a village, a kingdom of people to look after.

“In regards to the craft itself, she said that normally there is a pilot. It can operate on autopilot, but that’s atypical, which is why there is usually access to the engine car. I get the sense Anan has more information that she gets when entering a new world than we do. Not that the train lies to us, but rather it’s curating information. You might not know this unless you count or have some other way to tell time, but we are operating on a twenty-seven hour clock on board the train. Nine hours of light, twelve hours of darkness and six hours of enforced rest. The enforced rest is normal. Anan’s craft operates on a different clock, and is based on her home world.” He smiled. “That’s why time is apparently important, and potentially tied to the tether itself, since she explained to me how a tether is normally done."

Soldat is not liking this conversation, but it's for reasons that probably are nobody else's reasons for not liking this conversation. They aren't even sure how to express their problems, here. They're not even sure entirely what their problems are (look, Soldat is not super great at self-reflection, here), except that they're not siding with people pissed off at the train.

What they can safely say is: "My tablet operates on a twenty-four hour clock by default. So. I'd noticed." They hadn't really cared, but now that they know, maybe they can adjust the clock somehow to match. "Is the tether different for us than Anan?"

“Unknown.” Senku responded easily, although his expression didn’t change. “Anan explained how the tether is done. She went to her origin point, underwent training for void travel to learn about things like how to operate he craft, what the void is, how to deal with voidsickness...things that would be considered the basics and all information we’ve been blocked from having.” He wanted to impress that upon everyone gathered.

“From there, there’s a separation. She doesn’t remember that and she said that is common. The tether is tethered to three points: her physical body, the craft and her traveling self. So, either we’re dealing with a few possibilities.”

He held up one finger and counted off his theories to three. “Either our physical bodies are all at the same origin point, or they’re on our home worlds collapsed in a heap somewhere, or somehow we’ve been abducted whole.” Senku sighed a little bit. “I’m not sure which option is worse.”

“I can tell you that wearing her SCA was no different than borrowing someone else’s SCA on board, which would have me leaning towards a three point tether, but I don’t have enough data to make that determination.” Senku said with a bit of a frown. “There didn’t appear to be a difference being tethered to her craft or ours, and I didn’t notice any adjustment over the three minutes we swapped.”

“Aside from determining the origin point and potentially where the rest of our selves are, we have a real problem if people contract voidsickness to a severe degree because we can’t fix it. Most treatment is to manage the symptoms which can be done easily enough, but in severe cases, Anan says the treatment is to retether them which we can’t.” He frowned. “That’s a very real problem. I don’t know what would happen if someone got that sick, if the tether would hold.”

Well, that's not great news. And something he's guessing he might have to ask her about.

"Did she say what happens if you're dead? I'm talkin' 'probably don't even got a body no more' dead, if I got disposed of traditional-like, or you're rottin' away in some origin point."

Edited (clarity edit) 2021-05-25 23:21 (UTC)

“No.” Senku said and shook his head. “And I didn’t think to ask. Sorry.” He genuinely was sorry, because he should think of everything, but even he wasn’t perfect.

“I think there are some very real concerns with the situation, that is a big one because there’s not much we can do but mitigate symptoms.” He pressed his lips together.

“Aside from that, I asked her about the Void Ministry, because I thought it was peculiar she didn’t suggest we go to them for help. She seems...uncertain about them. She doesn’t want there to be negative repercussions for us if we contact them, and she’s not sure what law it is we’re breaking either. She thought, as I did, that circumstances would be taken into account, but still can’t advocate calling them. I don’t think contacting them is worth the risk.” Senku said very seriously.

“It’s one thing for me to walk in somewhere as a single person and contact someone, reach out to them...that’s fine, but there’s kids on board and involving them is not okay.” He sighed.

“All of this was very informative, and we at least got some of the basics. I’m hoping that we can take something away from that. If you have further questions, by all means, ask and I’ll see what I know about the topic. I’m mentally taking notes because if we get the chance to see her again, I can ask.”

"Not like we can be sure they'd treat us any better," Ghost says. "Say what you will about the train, but unless the Ministry's willing to return us where we came from, which is far from a perfect solution for everyone - "

He includes Yondu and Soldat both with slight nods before breaking off the momentary eye-contact.

" - what are they supposed to do with us? Put us in holding cells or temporary housing until they get it all worked out? Say what you will about however the train chooses us, but she's good at picking people who need something to do with ourselves. In those terms, the train is our best option - the best choice for the mental and possibly physical well-being of a bunch of purpose-driven people who don't have our purposes from home anymore and need to be doing something."

It's not just the kids he's worried about, in other words. Even their 'regular' people would have a host of potential problems if they went to the Ministry.

"And that's not even considering those of us who aren't human and what that might mean for us. I might be talking out of my ass since it's my first mission, but I'm guessing that most of the worlds you guys have been to have been mostly humans, yeah? Seems like a pretty good chance that applies to the Ministry as well, which could really fuck over those of us who aren't, depending on what their attitudes towards non-humans are."

Soldat nods. They refuses to be a party to anything that will potentially hurt the non-humans on board. ... or anyone on board, really, that the other people on board didn't sign up for by actually going out on a mission.

"I was told," they add, "that the train cannot go back to the authority. The. Ministry. Or she will be decommissioned. Because her world no longer exists." Which is a shitty, shitty reason to kill something, if you ask them. "If we go to them, she will be caught, too."

They take a breath, careful, and offer, "The best solution is. Probably. To talk to the train. Herself. Come to an agreement. Better communication, better permissions, something." They really don't think the train is doing any of this on purpose. They believe that.

And now it's time for Murderbot to speak up again;

"We're not going to the Ministry."

Sorry, who elected the construct boss?...it seems to realize that and manages to look a little sheepish, but it squares its jaw and continues;

"We don't know the risk the train presents to us, but we know she wants to keep us alive." More or less. "And as the others've said, we don't know about the Ministry." Better the devil you know, apparently. "Even kidnapping us, she doesn't deserve to be deconstructed."

It sounds...oddly vehement about that. Apparently, there's something of a sore spot, perhaps?

"I agree with Soldat. Find someone who can talk on her level." And preferably? Not itself.

“I definitely agree the Ministry is not an option right now.” Senku commented, considering their words seriously. “We don’t know enough to make a move like that.” Even talking to Anan was a gamble, but she’d won him over, at least.

He regarded Soldat and considered their words. “I believe that she believes that.” Senku said. “But we don’t actually know because if such a rule exists, we haven’t been given those rules. I want to know what rule I broke too.”

He tapped his hip idly. “You’re welcome to try. I don’t think you will get anywhere, but you’re welcome to try. The people on board who have been on longer than me, have been unsuccessful in opening communication with the train to a degree where conversations can be had. We had a question and answer session once some months ago but nothing since. I won’t dissuade you from trying. I am not sure that is any more a realistic option either. The gifted cars and concessions are bribes to keep us happy and they are not given freely. I think it would be good to remind yourself of that.”

Edited 2021-05-26 22:17 (UTC)

It is, to be frank, a lot to take in, with implications that Siebren will wrestle with later, when he has the time and space to think.

"Speaking with the train herself may not produce everything we are looking for, but there is precedent for some requests being fulfilled, provided they are widespread and consistent enough - regardless of whether they constitute bribery or not." He doesn't agree on that aspect, but that is not the point. "Perhaps spreading word to our teammates to request specific information - not why, but simply what - will produce the results we are looking for, or give us enough of a basis of comparison to determine what information she has simply forgotten to provide and what she is deliberately hiding, provided she is doing either."

He pauses, then presses on - as far as he is concerned, this is a factor that must be addressed. "There is also the matter of the missing worlds, and the fact that nobody outside of those worlds seems to be able to remember them." He looks at Senku. "When you spoke with Anan, was she aware of the status of the Voidtrecker Express's home world?" Another pause, and then: "Did she know about Halo?"

Senku waved his hand when Siebren commented on his wording, an unsaid gesture to agree to disagree. He wasn’t going to stick to that point pointlessly.

“We’ve asked about Halo. We’ve asked about the previous crew. We’ve asked about the train. We’ve asked about the rules. We’ve asked about void travel in general. We’ve tried purchasing books and information and gotten nowhere.” Senku responded and exhaled. “You can draw your own conclusions from that. You can also certainly try yourself. Maybe she’s changed her mind about talking about it.” He doubted it, but there wasn’t harm in trying.

He shook his head at Siebren’s question. “No. Anan had no knowledge of the Voidtrecker Express, or its home world, nor Halo as far as I know. She said she’s never heard of people being abducted into void travel before. I didn’t ask about Halo, but I believe Tidus might have, the first time they met. I didn’t meet her on Erda myself.” That was a mission he’d rather forget. “My purpose for speaking to her today was to get the basic information that any void traveler needs, that we’ve been denied for so long.”

“Regardless of how anyone feels about the train, I don’t know about you, but I feel completely unprepared for this voyage.”

"All of this is presuming a degree of sapience that I'm not sure we can assume the train has," Devero says, speaking up for the first time since he'd filed in with the others. "And honestly, I'm not convinced it's sapient. Sentient, yes, but sapient?

"I've been doing a lot of thinking on the nature of the programming that would be needed to run a vehicle like this, and just based on--" He gestures, a little swirl of a hand. "--everything, it seems to me that whatever operational constraints the train exhibits could be areas where functionality was sacrificed to accommodate what must be an enormous processing load, to manage interdimensional travel on this scale. Especially if we presume that the vehicle is designed to run with a crew, it's possible that it's doing its best to fulfill what's essentially incomplete programming.

"It'd be like if I triggered Babysitter's-- that's my exo-- my power armor's autonomous mode and then asked it to do things it usually needs me for. It would falter without my guidance. So it may not be that the train's curating information or refusing to talk to us, it may be that it's literally incapable of understanding and meeting these informational needs for us."

He crosses his arms and leans back against whatever windowsill or doorjamb he's perched himself near. "Just something to keep in mind."

"I don't think so."

It's said specifically to Devero, Ghost looking at him in the not-quite-eye-contact way he sometimes has. "And you can take this with an entire bag of salt if you feel like it, but..."

He sighs. Time to put at least a couple of his cards on the table. "I'm a sort of passive telepath, which some of you knew already. I can sense the presence of other minds, and the train does have something going on, even if it's weirdly muted and difficult to sense. In my opinion, she's not an AI just executing routines, but at least aware enough to make some decisions."

He shrugs, directing his attention more generally to the crowd in the room. "And if it's ever in doubt, I think it's better to err on the side of at least treating the train like a person. I'd rather have been nice to an AI than an asshole to a person."

The implication that the train being 'just' an AI means they can or possibly would treat it like crap seems to baffle Devero, who actually rocks back on his heels a little in surprise.

"Obviously it-- she--" He shakes his head a little, flustered over pronouns. "--Obviously the train is aware enough to make decisions. It wouldn't be an AI otherwise. But--"

He holds a hand out in front of him, palm up, and the round camera that's been hovering unobtrusively in a corner of the room glides down to it. It unfolds from a drone to a little critter like a turtle coming out of its shell and alights on his palm. "Sir Beepers is sentient and makes decisions, but I wouldn't call it sapient or assume that there's anything but a line of code behind its actions, no matter how novel they seem. --Not that my companion drone's remotely as sophisticated as what's piloting the train."

He tosses the drone gently into the air and Beepers re-engages its lifters, tucking in its hindlimbs and taking up a position directly over Devero's shoulder. "Regardless of whether or not the train's sapient," he continues, "of course we should treat it with the respect due a sentient being. And if it is being constrained by coding parameters, then we'd be best served figuring those out, and how to work within them."

What their Eyes See: Optional Ongoing

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