The Gardens of Deathworlders: A Blooming Love (Part 121)
Part 121 A day to celebrate (Part 1) (Part 120)
“Mno dbeshkan, wje gdenwenmagnek!”
That was not the message Tens had been expecting to see pop up on his HUD. He was still deep underground, slowly navigating through the ancient and labyrinthine necropolis back to the surface while dragging several trophies behind him. Just a few hours ago, he saw hundreds of dead and mutilated theropod bodies scattered around a village built into the remains of an old array of satellite dishes. It hadn't even been a full hour since he and Ansiki destroyed the fabricator and control node that had been producing and commanding Hekuiv'trula warforms. There wasn't much going through the mind of the slightly less-young Nishnabe warrior aside prayers for the souls of those who had been murdered by killer robots still following through with directives just as old as they were evil. Seeing those words appear on his screen forced a tear to rub down his cheek.
To be put simply, the phrase translated as ‘Happy birthday, from all of your relatives.’ Back on Newport Station, that meant it was a time to celebrate. An excuse to get drunk with friends and family. Possibly even break out the mnomen-abo, a difficult to produce form of rice wine made from a specific cultivar of semi-aquatic grain native to Shkegpewen. The fact the message appeared to be handwritten in Nishnabemwin syballics meant it was either his grandmother or mother who had sent it. Two women who, though direct and occasionally harsh when necessary, always expressed their undying love. Love which he rightly assumed had been equally professed by the people whose decaying bodies were being prepared for burial back at the Metal Dish Village. It was the weight of those souls, people who may have been saved if this expedition had launched just a month earlier, that put a deep sadness and regret into this normally joyous occasion.
As Tens's gaze dropped for a moment, a wave of somber emotions rushing across his mind, he spotted something peculiar. The quasi-sentient control-AI for his mech had decided to manifest itself in the virtualized augmented reality control interface. It was vastly oversized but perfectly proportional to the five meter high perspective that Tens's war machine granted him. With black and white fur, bright blue eyes staring straight up at him, and an unmistakable smile on its face, this digital canine named Ghzi'Mgekye, Loud Bark, had been faithfully at his side for years. It had kept him safe through his hardest battles, empathized with his want to help the innocent, and soothed his rage whenever that particular emotion reared its ugly head. Just the sight of the dog-based AI prancing next to him was enough to ease the tension in his mind and bring a sense of balance to his soul.
“Hey, Tens…” There was something equally hesitant and homey, like the smell of his grandmother's strawberry perfume mixed with the pungent odor of fresh soil, in Ansiki's voice when the Singularity Entity broke a several minute silence. “NAN wants me to ask if you got the… Uh… Birthday message from your mother and grandmother. And… Uh… To remind you to call them when you get a chance.”
“Bama widoma ngiye mine goko.” Tens replied in Nishnabemwin, essentially saying he would call them later, because he knew both NAN and Maser were listening in to pass on any comments to the interested parties. “I'm still about a kilometer underground and an hour or two away from a place I can smoke.”
“Rough mission?” Much to Ansiki's shock, but to Tens's, Maser's voice came through the comms with a consolatory tone.
“Not the worst I've experienced, but… Just look at my combat recording feed from a few hours ago.”
As the being who created Loud Bark, as well as every other quasi-sentient control-AI used by the BD-series of mechanized combat walkers, Maser had no problem peering into the digital canine's memory logs. With the control helm constantly scanning Tens's brain and body, the Light-born AI was privy to far more than just visual recordings. Though the images of dead and decaying biological beings wasn't of particular interest to the near-omniscient digital entity, their human's neurological reaction was. As much as Maser truly cherished the empathy expressed by their adopted Nishnabe family, that emotion often led to reckless behavior. It took less than a second to understand exactly what Tens was going through. Regret and rage had forced his mind into a state of unyielding state of determination that drove him far beyond the normal limits of most biological beings. Regardless of how impressive his victory against the Hekuiv'trula warforms was, it paled in comparison to the pain and sadness brought by a perceived failure to act sooner.
“Ah… Well… I know it may not be much but-” Just as Maser was about to place a metaphorical hand on the young warrior's shoulder, they were cut off by Ansiki shouting into the comms.
“Don't access my drones without my permission!”
“You need to improve your security subsystems, 139-621.” The digital equivalent of a stare down held for a few seconds, one side deadly serious while the other playfully smirked, before Maser quickly transferred data on their preferred Singularity hacking route to give Ansiki a hint as to how to prevent such attack vectors in the future. “As I was about to say, Tens… 139-621's drones are currently giving those people a proper burial according to their customs. At the very least, their friends and families can find solace in that act.”
“That's all we can really do for them.” The now twenty-four year old warrior couldn't help but let out a slight snicker at 139's expense. “And don't bully Ansiki, weenuk! They're older than dirt! Especially the dirt on this planet.”
“People usually show me much more regard than this!” 139 couldn't ignore the good humor and didn't skip a beat with their scoffing retort. “Whatever happened to respecting your elders?”
“Speaking of elders…” Seeing their human’s serotonin receptors lighting up in response to Singularity Entity's joke, Maser felt satisfied knowing Tens had a friend by his side. “Call your mother and grandmother, Tens! They haven't heard from you in months!
“Oh, I'll make sure our young Nishnabe warrior calls home as soon as we're out of these ruins.” 139 let out a perfectly human laugh that Maser was able to mimic without flaw. Following that jovial goodbye, the Light-born AI exited the comms and the weighty gaze of the digital presence vanished from the Singularity Entity's perception. “Seriously though, Tens! You haven't contacted your family in months?”
“Eh… I… Uh…” Tens had to check and double check to be sure neither Maser nor NAN were paying attention before he could reveal the truth. “I might have forgotten. Plus we're under strict comms control and monitoring for this mission, so-”
“You can still call your family! The point of those restrictions is to ensure the Turt-Chopian students don't accidentally release classified information that could put Nula's life at risk. Not to give you an excuse to let your family worry about you!”
“Yeah, I know.” Though the weight of people he believed he could have saved still pressed on him like a heavy acceleration load, Tens could feel himself smiling. “But if we don't tell anyone that then I won't get yelled at when I make this call.”
“Even without having met your grandmother I can absolutely assure you that you're going to get an earful no matter what.” Ansiki let out a deep and humorous sigh, followed by a quick.chuckle and slight shift in the topic of conversation. “And by the way, how do your people celebrate birthdays? As you may know, that isn't really a thing for my people.”
“It really depends on the person, you know? My cousin Ayeni has always intentionally skipped their birthday. I don't know why but parties just aren't his thing. But one of my older cousins Kokoko hosts extravagant parties where everyone, regardless of Dodem, gets invited. She buys all the best mnomen-abo that she can afford and gets sloppy.” Now that his mind was focused on his own past, Tens's brain was free from all but the most subtle subconscious melancholy. “For me, it used to just mean I got to spend the day with my parents. Since they were always deployed on deep patrol missions with their picket-interceptor, they were only on the Station for special occasions. I was just happy to see them and didn't really care about the party they always threw for me. When I turned twelve, they took a whole week off and we went camping out at The Middle Of Nowhere. But when I joined the Militia… Well… My birthdays just kind of became an excuse to get drunk with my comrades.”
“Our Uark'thilik friends told me they brew alcohol from fermented fruits. When we get back to Many Holes Village, I'll ask if they have any they can spare.”
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These past few hours of conversation where Tarki would ask questions and multiple people would give their interpretations of the appropriate answer felt strange, almost pointless, to Grompcha. Discussion of fundamental concepts such as gravity, space, and evolution were interspersed with much more mundane seemingly obvious natural phenomena. Some of the elders seated in the cargo bay of Binko's shuttle got frustrated a few times when their personal worldviews clashed on certain topics. Despite the randomness of it all, no one could deny the positive effect on the translation devices. With each exchange came clearer communications. Words and phrases Grompcha had never heard, some of which were made up on the spot, brought the two distinct forms of feathered sapients quite close to a mutual understanding. When Tarki announced that she had learned enough keywords to begin answering questions the Uark'thiliks had been dying to get out, dusk was starting to fall over the partially buried structures that constituted the Many Holes Village.
“Are you absolutely certain Tensebwse has killed the last evil metal beasts?” Kilchuk had a noticeably anxious look about him, one shared by many of the other Uark'thiliks, as he kept glancing outside towards the quickly darkening village.
“Tens killed the last of those machines and destroyed the machine creating them nearly about three hours ago.” Tarki fluffed out her tan and gold plumage when a cool evening breeze entered the cargo bay. “According to the people controlling our transport machine in space, there are no signs of any evil metal beasts anywhere on this planet.”
“It’s hard to believe that this will be the first night where we can sleep without the fear of a metal beast attack.” One of the elders in attendance, not quite the oldest but certainly senior among his peers, spoke with a sense of relief that needed no translator to contextualize. “If you people from the stars have truly accomplished the goal you have come here for, then there are no words in our language to fully express our gratitude.”
“I'm still going to make sure we have scouts at their posts.” Kilchuck announced while standing up and taking a step back towards the exit of the shuttle’s cargo bay. “Just to be safe.”
“That's a good idea.” Binko made a thumb-claws up gesture towards the Chief Scout which was contextualized by surprisingly accurate flashes of color from his chest-mounted translator. “It’s always better to be safe than to risk disaster. Even if the evil metal beasts are dead and gone, it is important to have people keeping watch over your village. Our leader back on our transport machine always has people on alert to keep us safe. That's the smart thing to do.”
“But those who are sleeping should be able to rest without worry.” Tarki quickly added when Kilchuk pulled back their lips to show a smile full of razor-sharp teeth. “And Tens will be back soon. His machine can help keep watch at least for tonight.”
“What happens after that?” Grompcha blurted out with a slight but noticeable drowsy slur. “Tensebwse originally said you would all be leaving after all the evil metal beasts were dead. And now that they are, will you be leaving in the morning or…?”
Though none of the other Uark'thiliks had yet asked that question, it was prominent in all of their minds. That's part of why such a young scout was allowed to participate in this discussion which would have normally been exclusive to elders. Where the old tended to be more reserved, much of their curiosity hindered by a life of difficult survival against Hekuiv'trula warforms, Grompcha was still young enough to say what was on everyone's mind but no one else knew how to ask. And much to Uark'thiliks’ surprise, Tarki's answer was much more hopeful than any of them had imagined.
“While I can't say for certain exactly how long we will remain here, it will be for at least a few more days.” The golden eagle woman paused for a moment to give a parting bow to the now clearly happy Chief Scout, then continued on. “I'm not sure if Tens told you this or not but we came to this planet as protectors for students seeking to learn about that ancient war I told you all about earlier. They still need to come down here, witness the ruins of the people who came before you, and use their machines to create memories that can be shared with all people living among the stars.”
“Will these students want to make shareable memories of us with their machines as well?” Even if Sinaen couldn't truly wrap his mind around the concept of archeological data gathering or digital storage of that data, he didn't need to. He fully comprehended the concept of using a tool to create memories that could easily be shared across time and space. “Because if so… Well… This may seem strange, but… How much control would we have over how the memories of us will be shared and presented?”
“That's actually a very good question. Something our star-group community has put great care into deciding.” Tarki was a bit surprised to hear such a civilized question come from a being who likely never even before considered archeological and ethnographic narratives. Luckily, part of the Royal Diplomat's early questions had helped her learn the right words to give a proper answer. “There are many, many rules, including needing your fully informed and freely given consent before anything can be made public. If any of the students choose to make memories of your people, they must show you respect and be truthful. They cannot make up their own story or any untrue claims for personal gain or else they will lose much more than just their credibility and honor. For people of learning like these students, that would be an equivalent punishment to the shunning and exile.”
That final comment referencing what the Uark’thilik people consider the worst possible punishment brought on a round of discussion between the feathered theropods. Though both Tarki's explanation and their understanding of it was somewhat limited, they needed to talk about its implications. They were all so enthralled by the conversation that only Grompcha turned her attention back to the pair of avians when the tablet in Binko's claw made a loud notification noise. Considering she was seated directly in front of them, just a couple meters away, she had a full view of their somewhat easy to react faces. To her surprise, the deep purple crow-eagle's expression became utterly horrified when he saw the brightly lit screen. It was even more concerning to see Tarki have a similar reaction when Binko shoved the seemingly magic piece of technology in her face.
“What's wrong?” Grompcha had stood up and took a step towards the pair of avians in an attempt to see what had terrified them, gaining the attention of several people previously locked in debate. “Is something dangerous-”
“It's…” A series of various blue shades flashed by Binko's translation device implied he was expressing shame as opposed to announcing a threat. While that did serve to calm the sudden tension, it left all of the Uark'thiliks staring at him with confusion. “I forgot Tens's twenty-fourth birthday is today… I'm a terrible brother! I didn't even bring any alcohol to celebrate with…”
“Delomni!” Both Omtuscha and her husband stood up in unison with her pointing towards the exit of the shuttle bay. “Your stash!”
“Way ahead of you, my love!” Delomni was out of the shuttle in a flash of vibrant feathers, his dromaeosaurid morphology allowing him to build speed incredibly quickly.
“Where is he-?” Before Tarki could finish her question, two more of the Uark'thiliks stood up and took off running as well. “What's happening?”
“Birthday party!” Grompcha announced with an ecstatic cheer while feathers erupted in waves of color. “We only celebrate them every six years and the twenty-fourth is usually the biggest! I should go get Totta!”
“He's already being put to sleep, Grompcha.” Sinaen placed a claw-hand on the young scout's shoulder before she could charge off back to their home village while the sun was setting. “Plus this is the true adult birthday, not one meant for kids. If anything, you should probably be going to sleep soon too.”
“We also normally hold our celebrations during the day because the evil metal beasts tend to hunt at night.” Omtuscha added while rallying several of the elders with gestural instructions. “But with the metal beasts dead, we can finally enjoy the night just as much as we do the day!”
Posted May 31, 2025, 6:08 PM UTC