One year earlier at LUMA Headquarters
The vat was unimaginably large. Larger than any ship, even the blobs of seemingly nothing photonics used to travel in groups. It could only be viewed in its entirety by distant ship, or by standing here – on the observation deck of the LUMA space station. The space station, along with the construction vat, orbited a shockingly small gas giant. Scientists referred to it as Gaseous Impossibilius. It could never exist naturally, it was a custom planet built by the Silicon Branch.
This was meant to be a place where each of the three branches – Carbon, Silicate, and Photonic – could intermingle and communicate. The space station was built to host Carbons. At any given time there were an average of two million Carbon life forms on board. Sharing and learning from one another. Trying the latest dishes from newly recruited worlds. Many lived their entire lives aboard the station, some shorter-lived species already had generations of children in the few hundred years the station had been functional. Some silicates also lived aboard the station, mostly for research and administrative purposes. Every few decades a Photonic would deign to visit the lowly Carbons, taking a form they can comprehend before they ascend. Today was one of those days. Today was the birth of a new intelligent life form.
“Are you prepared, Ambassador?” Quinn was stirred from her reverie, observing her future colleague in the vat completing its final growth stage. The figure next to her was certainly shaped like another Cecaelian. Unlike Quinn and other Cecaelians this person had a slight glow to their skin, a literal illumination. Luma indeed thought Quinn.
She straightened a bit, taking a few deep breaths to keep her skin from revealing her anxiety. Cecaelians were mostly able to control the vast variety of colors their epidermis could display, but heightened emotions made it more difficult. “I am ready, we must all start somewhere, mustn’t we?” She turned her head to look her colleague directly in the eye, or what passed for eyes. “What name are you going by today?”
“We are a member of the PECO. Are you familiar?” they rasped. Quinn’s very real eyes widened.
“Am I familiar with the Photonic Entities of Class Omega?” Quinn let out a hiccup beneath her mouth flap – the Cecaelian version of a snort. “Yes, your luminousness, I am quite familiar. We were taught LUMA Universal History in primary school.” She turned to fully face the entity, the revelation causing her curiosity to outweigh her anxiety.
“I always assumed the PECO had faded away a long time ago.” Photonics did not like the Silicate and Carbon concept of death. They didn’t feel it applied to what they did. It was written into LUMA by-laws that Photonics do not die – they fade away.
“Most of us have. This is a final step for this one. We do not want to fade away, We want to become something different. When next we speak, I will be with you, but I will not remember this conversation, nor anything else about our previous life. We have left a private communication in your office. Once you complete your first mission we ask you to deliver it to…” they seemed to stumble, struggling with the correct phrasing, “…deliver it to me.”
Quinn nodded in acknowledgement. She didn’t quite understand this process. Photonics were still gods to many Carbon based life forms. Even those who didn’t view them as gods were appropriately afraid of them. They could take a physical form, but regardless of species it was always rather obvious. Long before Quinn was born the Photonic Branch, in a rare spark of creativity, brought an idea to the Silicate and Carbon branches for approval. After billions of years many Photonics – some of the oldest beings in the universe – were growing tired. They did not want to fade away, but they did want to experience things differently.
They knew the Carbons had issues with travel. Their bodies were so frail, their lives so short. The best they had managed for deep space travel was uploading their consciousness to a computer upon death. Often entire species would transition into a silicate species, just to survive the vast distances and time required for interstellar exploration.
The Photonics suggested a collaboration. Sentient, massive living ships. The spark of sentience would be provided by a Photonic. The Carbons and Silicates would work together to build the construction vat. Station residents jokingly referred to it as “space womb”. The chamber itself took hundreds of years to construct.
During that time agreements were made among the three LUMA branches. Photonics – by choice – would not retain the memories of their past lives. These sentient ships would have some small amount of programming to keep them from going rogue while other beings were residing inside of them. All agreed the ship must have the ability to create a believable avatar of any LUMA affiliated species. With the inclusion of some Silicate technology (the programming, which required cybernetics) the Carbons wanted to insure a part of their legacy would also be included in the ship’s growth cycle. One of the Photonics noted that nearly every Carbon planet had some kind of nautilus variant early in their planet’s history. Photonics loved spirals, the shape of the nautilus shell appealed to them. The living ships would include a spark of light, a few liquid chips for programming, and a little bit of terrestrial and space-based organic DNA. All parties were satisfied.
Nine total sentient vessels have been born, each one grown faster than the previous. Only one other ship has been born during Quinn’s lifetime. The ship in the vat now has only taken twenty two years to reach maturity. The last one took over fifty. These are blinks in the lives of Silicates and Photonics, but lifetimes to most Carbons. Leadership of the other branches spend a great deal of time reminding new Carbon leaders that the project is worth the wait.
They stood silently together, observing the fixer bots flying around the vat, making small repairs and updates. Preparing for birth.
The PECO member turned towards Quinn. They looked dimmer. Quinn realized for the first time the being was a bit short, skinny by Cecaelian standards. “Well,” they started, heaving a great sigh. Wonder who taught you how to do that, Quinn pondered.
“I think my time has come. I must away to the antechamber to prepare for ascension.” Before Quinn could respond the being faded into a trillion points of light and phased through the window. She could just make out a light cloud moving towards the top of the vat.
An announcement blared over the station speakers. The overly chipper voice of Comms Manager Mel chirped, “Vat evacuation in one hour. Please make your way to the forward LUMA observation deck to witness this once in a life time event!” A pause, the sound of Mel grumbling to someone in the background, then very quickly added, “AlsoAmbassadorQuinnwillyoupleasereporttoSystemOps? Thanks!”
Quinn smoothed her head tendrils and shook her appendages, changing her skin to match the LUMA uniform colors and pattern. She then twisted her tentacles into two spiraled limbs, creating legs, of a sort. A trick she learned to make herself seem more serious to the less flexible Carbons. Should have known he wouldn’t let me leave without getting the last word, she thought as she headed towards the admin level.