Beyond The Impossible

Boreas, 30,000 light-years from Earth

Noriko Null doesn’t have a lot of love for this planet. She doesn’t understand the Lar obsession with absolute monarchy, she doesn’t have a lot of good memories associated with this place, and she’s not overly fond of its freezing temperatures.

But she has to admire their technology. The Industrial Replicator is just a leftover from the long past era when the Lar dominated the Olympian Galaxy, but it’s still a fascinating machine.

It was able to build thousands of Nullbots in the span of a few hours, followed by the building blocks of the Planetary Displacement Shield that the robots have just finished assembling with the help of a couple thousand duplicates of Kari Zel.

Noriko is not alone in admiring how fast the work is progressing. Her predecessor as the Nexus host, Roxiana, is right next to her.

<Makes you wonder how they’re not the dominant species of the galaxy, doesn’t it? With a headstart of literally millions of years, they could have terraformed all inhabitable planets to the coldness they love so much.> Roxiana comments, rubbing her hands to gather some warmth.

<They would have been dominant if the gods hadn’t hunted them down to near extinction. And I thought you were the historian, Roxiana, you should know this.>

<I know more than the history that the Lar tell themselves. Trust me, if I had the technology they had at their disposal, Kronos would have found himself with no planets worth ruling.>

<And talking like that is exactly why I’m not letting you set foot on Earth, Roxiana. As soon as the shield is active, you’re back to working on our trump card. Will it be ready in time?>

<It’s too early to tell. Having the severed wing of Nike will help… but if you could spare some of the nanites your team recovered from the Naqada Galaxy…>

<Forget it, Roxiana, I’m not letting someone nicknamed “the angel of death” anywhere near technology like that. Anything else? Our delivery’s due soon.>

<Just one, actually. Why didn’t you kill Nike? You certainly had the occasion! I can’t imagine you holding any sympathy for Athena’s right-hand goddess, and I don’t believe you will be able to get any useful information out of her.>

<I’m stalling. Athena is due to figure out any minute that her attempt to kill me didn’t work, so she’s still focusing on Earth: I’m jamming communications from Boreas, so it will take time before she’s warned we’ve taken the planet… maybe a day. If I kill Nike, I have a feeling Athena will be able to sense it.>

<You’re still killing her when it’s safe to do it, right?>

<I am the Slayer of Gods.> Noriko simply replies, making her silver eyes shine.

A triangular Aether portal appears behind her, right as her watch starts beeping.

Amaterasu steps out of the portal, wearing a bright red ōfurisode… the long-sleeved traditional kimono for young, unmarried women.

<Ohayō, Noriko onee-san. Watashi ni aitakatta no?>

<I didn’t realize we were supposed to speak in code.> Roxiana replies, raising an eyebrow.

<That’s not a code, that’s Japanese… a little too recent for your knowledge of history, I’m afraid. I don’t have time for games, Amaterasu, since when do you speak Japanese?>

<I barely knew what Japan was until I saw Earth’s collective consciousness! Did you know that I am still worshipped there? It would be weird if I didn’t speak the language!>

<You let this artificially created god-child access to the powers of the Nexus? Seriously!?> Roxiana protests, pointing her finger at the goddess.

<Only indirectly, to escape Athena’s trap. How are you even speaking a specific language, I thought all gods were living universal translators? Nevermind, we’re on a tight schedule here, we’ll talk about it after the war is over. Fly us over there.> Noriko instructs her, taking Amaterasu’s hand.

The goddess gracefully flies them both towards the top of the shield generator: a massive tower topped by a metallic sphere.

Walking past a large security door, the two find themselves surrounded by a myriad of mirrors that cover the entire internal surface of the sphere.

<The shield will require a massive amount of power to operate, especially after we’ll extend it to cover Earth and potentially more planets. An astronomical amount of energy, actually.>

<Like a sun.> Amaterasu understands.

<Yes. I’ve designed this array to absorb solar energy with almost 100% efficiency; the power will be converted into a dimensional shift wave, making everything inside the shield completely intangible from the rest of the universe.>

<You mean from everything? What about sunlight?>

<I didn’t expect you to get so technical, but I guess this is your area of expertise. Yes, solar energy will still reach the planet, but anything beyond a precise window in the electromagnetic spectrum will have no effect… so no shooting lasers from orbit or microwaving the atmosphere, but the planet won’t freeze over. Well, Earth won’t at least; Boreas will be cold enough to be comfortable for the Lar.> Noriko explains. Much to her surprise, Amaterasu seems to understand… either she absorbed more than passion for Japanese culture, or she’s finally growing up.

<I understand. How much energy do you need?>

<Start slowly; a millionth of the Sun’s power output will be a good test run, then increase gradually until I tell you to stop. The solar array isn’t perfect, and if your power output exceeds the shield’s demands you might vaporize the planet.>

<I will try not to. How long will I have to stay here?>

<Until Athena is defeated, I’m afraid. My original plan was to have Vesta provide power for the shield, but… you were made for this, Amaterasu. Do you feel up to it?>

<If you believe in me, onee-san.>

<That’s… that’s “big sister”, Amaterasu. I’m not…>

<When the war is over, can we go to Japan together? I know you’re always busy with important stuff, but… it’s the only place where I have ever felt truly happy.>

<You were there for like ten minutes.> Noriko deadpans.

<Have you ever found a place where you’re truly happy, onee-san?>

<That’s… a bit of a heavy question to answer when I’m on a tight schedule, Amaterasu. And please stop calling me that.>

<Can you help me move to Japan after we win the war, oba-chan?>

<If you stick to just calling me Noriko, I will personally buy you a house there.>

One hour later

Sado Island, Sea of Japan, Earth

With less than 50,000 inhabitants, the island is not exactly the spotlight of the country.

Even so, some of the population has been ordered to evacuate as soon as Noriko selected the place for the construction of the Shield Phase Receiver.

She would have received more resistance if her original plan to use the planet’s industries was still required, but this will be surprisingly quick and unintrusive for something that will save the world. And the industries she obtained control over will be put to good use to build up Earth’s first interstellar fleet.

<I still feel uncomfortable about this.> Quantum protests, leaning against the cylinder full of nanites recovered from the Naqada Galaxy.

<Is it because it’s based on something that was used to turn you into a zombie?> Noriko asks, without taking her eyes off the blueprints she’s studying on her holographic tablet.

<Yep. Not to mention, I don’t entirely trust the Emissary… I mean, I get that we helped Shabti set it up back in the day, but c’mon, it’s still a super-AI thing made of dead people!>

<I looked over the modifications she made to the necrobots, scanning for malicious code or backdoor viruses. It checks out, the technology is safe to use.>

<I’m sure the Eden and Anubis thought the same thing. Be honest with me, Nori, we really trust this stuff?>

<I’m positive the nanites will only do what I tell them to do. And the way they’re configured, I’m the only person smart enough to be able to use them.>

<I trust you on the former, but I have doubts on the latter.>

<If I wasn’t the smartest person in the universe, I would take offense to that. But remind me to fire you after I’ve hired you again.> Noriko jokes.

<Nori, I’m being serious here. No one’s questioning you’re smart, but there’s plenty of people on your level, right?>

<I wouldn’t exactly call them on my level, but yes, technically speaking Roxiana and the entire Amazon race put together are as smart as I am. But we’re talking about handling a giant amount of information all at once, and to do that you really need a Nexus.>

<Which Rei also has. You know, your evil copy that rules the Naqada Galaxy? What if she lets you take the stuff only because she wants to use it herself later?>

<I have some ideas on how to implement safety protocols to keep this out of Rei’s hands. But this will cut production time to essentially zero, and I can’t ignore any advantage against Athena. I’ll install the protocols in the nanites after I’m done.>

<Okay and what if Athena wants to use it? She’s smart right?>

<Give me some credit, Max, I have ideas on how to prevent her from using it as well. Besides, the entire reason for doing this is to make it impossible for her to touch anything on the planet, so it’s not like she’s getting her hands on the stuff.>

<I guess. I still don’t like it.>

<What’s up with this discussion, Max? I know I’ve given you reason to doubt me, but never on technology. What’s this really about?>

<Those nanites. That’s more advanced than what the rest of the Galaxy has, right?>

<Significantly so.>

<You’re treating this like a one-off use, but this is a genie that will hardly go back into the bottle.>

<I’m fully aware of it. This isn’t the first “genie” I unleashed, Max.>

<Has that worked out so far? I’m just saying, you’ve been throwing around some heavy tech lately, and I just hope you’re not rushing things through.>

<Nobody has given more thought to the possible ramifications of everything I create than me, I can assure you. If you have better ideas, I’m open to suggestions.>

<I guess I don’t have anything beyond “be careful”.>

<When am I not careful?>

<…>

<On second thought, don’t answer that. Release the nanites.> she orders.

Quantum opens the canister, and grey sand starts to creep out of the container. Noriko’s silver eyes shine as she provides detailed instructions to each single microscopic robot.

The sand decomposes and restructures the ground at an atomic level. Quantum watches in awe as metallic spires rise out of nowhere: a large building grows organically, like a huge plant.

More and more complex structures develop; it’s taking all of Noriko’s brain power to guide the nanites, and she’s expending so much of it that a crown of electric bolts surrounds her head.

To her it feels like an eternity, but it only takes a few minutes to complete the whole project.

When she has trouble standing up, he moves to let her lean against him: he can hear the electrons in her brain resonate through his own neurons.

<Maybe you should take a pause.> he suggests.

<It’s done. Only one thing left.> she replies, letting him go. She stumbles after a first step, but after that he helps her walk towards the sparkling new control panel.

After entering a 50-digit password, she slides her finger on a screen displaying a lever. Once she has figuratively pulled it, the entire Shield Phase Receiver vibrates and hums.

<It’s done. Earth and Boreas are now phased out of reality.> she says.

The ease with which all of this was accomplished does nothing to reduce Quantum’s worry.