Chapter Text
“Reminder we have a team meeting in five,” Aloy said, one hand to the Focus at her ear.
Sylens resisted the urge to roll his eyes. With himself, Aloy, and Beta already in GAIA’s chamber, anyone who could possibly be of use was already here. Why Aloy insisted on including all of her little friends in the formation of these plans, rather than simply telling them what was required, was beyond him.
He’d been frustrated by being kept in the dark during their assault on the Zenith base, but at least it had been efficient. Instead, he was wasting time, standing around GAIA’s console in his usual place in their ridiculous ‘round table’, as Beta had termed it for reasons she had never quite fully explained.
With GAIA also occupied in attempting to establish a link with CYAN in the Banuk lands—Aloy had eventually realised that, if she sent a personal messenger, CYAN might accept a communication request from GAIA—and so he didn’t even have her knowledge to distract himself from the interminable wait.
“Perhaps you have forgotten that we have only months until the arrival of Nemesis and the destruction of humanity?” Sylens asked acidly. “Or perhaps you prefer to wait for the total collapse of the biosphere beyond that?”
Aloy—two spaces to his left—only gave him a withering look, as expected. Beta, however, tried to offer a conciliatory smile. It died as soon as he turned on her with raised eyebrows.
“We’re waiting to hear about the information they were following up on,” Beta said, which might have been a more sensible protest if it had been louder than a whisper. She stood directly opposite Sylens in the ‘round table’, but even then he strained to hear her.
Beta was, compared to Aloy’s barbarian friends with more muscle and superstition than sense, a welcome addition to the base. Like Aloy, she possessed the fearsome intellect of Sobeck, but her education had been vastly superior, even with the limitations placed on her studies by the Zeniths. Apart from GAIA herself, she was the only one Sylens could get any sense out of.
When he could hear her over the sound of her own nervousness.
Sparing him a deep frown of disapproval, Aloy diverted Beta’s attention with a question about which media programs she wished to introduce the rest of the base to when they recovered APOLLO. Beta’s shoulders straightened and her chin raised, her gestures becoming larger and more expressive as she began to talk about something called ‘Second Time Around’. It was common for this to happen when Beta became excited. Sylens had gathered that she spent much of her time on the Zenith ship in a narrow pod, to better focus her on the necessary studies. When she was uncomfortable, she squeezed herself smaller as though she was trying to fit back into it.
The Zenith had truly been arrogant idiots, all of them. Even Aloy’s simple friends ranked higher in Sylens’s estimation. They did not consider themselves so far above other human beings that they’d forgotten how they worked.
Much of what had transpired in Aloy’s favour was because Beta had decided to leave the Zeniths. Because despite being in control of her entire upbringing, none of them had spared her a kind word, or promised her riches and immortality, or performed even the most basic attempt to win her loyalty. Even Tilda van der Meer had discarded their connection when she grew bored of it.
If you create a person as intelligent as Elisabet Sobeck and furnish her with dozens of reasons to disobey and despise you, you have only yourself to blame when she escapes your control and turns against you.
The rest of the time passed in silence. Of course, it took far longer than it should have done; the oaf Erend kept them waiting for another ten minutes than promised. When his holograph finally appeared, he didn’t even seem contrite.
“I have beamed up, Scotty!” he announced with a ridiculous grin.
Beta snorted with a badly stifled laugh. Everyone else looked confused.
“Who is Scotty?” Kotallo asked with a frown.
Sylens interrupted before anyone could get into it, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. They were like unruly children, sometimes, except that most children had at least the sense to defer to adults. “Can we not get on with it?”
“He’s right,” Aloy said. He was gratified by this despite her reluctance. “We don’t have much time. Zo, did you find anything?”
“No,” Zo replied. “Whatever HEPHAESTUS did in Repair Bay Tau, it erased its tracks.”
“Not unexpected,” GAIA added, presumably in an effort to soothe.
Sylens would have asked, again, why they had bothered with the task, then, except he knew that it was to avoid giving a pregnant woman any job too strenuous. Zo also knew this, which might explain why she was grinding her teeth and looking like she might have tried to strangle GAIA if she was there in person.
He was staying out of it.
“I was able to get back into Gemini with the aid of my fellow marshals,” Kotallo offered. “Unfortunately, the way is still unsafe. We’ve been in contact with a group of Oseram delvers to shore up the tunnels.”
“Is that a good idea?” Erend asked.
Kotallo shrugged. “Aloy recommended their services.”
So they could be pitiable and unreliable or the top of their field. With Aloy’s friends it was difficult to tell.
“Right… well, anyway.” Erend cracked his knuckles. “Me and the guys at Hidden Ember found some interesting stuff! This Karol Nowak guy did work for Stanley Chen in Vegas for a while, then he got snapped up by our ol’ favourite.”
“Ted Faro…” Aloy’s lip curled with disgust.
It was at least one opinion in the room that all could agree on.
“This confirms what we already had cause to suspect,” GAIA said. “That Karol Nowak worked for Faro Industries, and from there, may have had reason to be known to the team which created my subordinate functions.”
“All we have to go on is an article he authored criticising Faro Industries new robot designs,” Sylens drawled. With each passing day, no, each hour, he grew more and more sure that this was a wild goose chase which would only divert attention from what ought to be the real goal: getting aboard the Zenith spacecraft Sirius and restoring APOLLO. From there, further solutions would be readily available. “Extremely prescient, given that they were soon to extinguish all life on Earth, but hardly indicative of a greater role in the creation of yourself, GAIA.”
“Well, but—” Beta shrank back when Sylens turned to her, but with a glance at Aloy squared her shoulders and continued. “—the detail with which he criticised the programming and design suggests that—”
“—that Nowak had inside information, I understand, but this could have come from a former colleague,” Sylens said. “The supposition that Nowak worked on the design of the robots is hardly substantiated by—”
“Uh…” All eyes were drawn to Alva, who smiled weakly by way of explanation for her interruption. Her hands were spread, palm outwards, in front of her chest, as though to form a shield against their interest. “If I may?”
“You found something?” Aloy asked.
“I was going through the data we retrieved on Leviathan and I found a mention of Nowak. He was working on creating some kind of maintenance robots for it.” Alva’s words were emphasised in odd places, making her sentences rhythmic to match the movement of her hands. Her head, too, bobbed up and down as she looked at each of them in turn, like a wading bird. “There was some surviving correspondence from Elisabet Sobeck.”
Sylens was not the only one to make an intake of breath; he heard Aloy’s too. “About GAIA?”
Alva shook her head. A faint jingle of her headpiece carried through the Focus. “No… this was about a year before the swarm hit. Nowak sought her out for advice and forwarded it to Sasaki.”
The others seemed excited by this, but Sylens sighed. Professional correspondence, professional interest, professional courtesy… this was no evidence of anything at all, merely a desperate attempt to see the ghosts of success in every little thing.
“Elisabet Sobeck,” he cut in sharply, severing the interested murmurs, “was one of the foremost intellectuals of the 22nd century. She no doubt corresponded with hundreds of people. Who is supposed to have worked on HEPHAESTUS next because of email correspondence? A distant cousin, perhaps? A hotel concierge?” Aloy glared at him, but he ignored her. “I am tired of listening to this useless prattle. When you have something of substance, if such a day ever comes, alert me. Until then I will be using my time more productively.”
He glimpsed Alva’s face falling before he turned and retreated to his lab. What intelligence she did possess was always ruined by this… insecurity. When they had searched the Zenith base together, she looked to him constantly, asking questions and soliciting his opinion. Exhausting to endure.
He couldn’t imagine being that reliant on another. If Alva had a modicum of self-respect, she would have asked him to wait, insisted it was important, even though she was undoubtedly wrong. But she said nothing, and only silent disapproval followed him as he left.
*
Sylens continued working on his latest project in his lab. After discovering a way to take down the Zenith shields, he was now working in reverse, on how to create them. Aloy had already—reluctantly—handed over some technology for investigation, but it was far more primitive than the Zenith shields. Still, he was confident he would be able to work it out eventually. Such protection could only have benefits.
Imagine, not having to worry about the primitives of this world, being able to come and go with ease… he could secure real independence. Sylens was not unaware that a critical flaw, the exploitable weakness, in his plans for the Zeniths had been the necessity of relying on others. Despite his intellect, he simply could not do everything by himself—too dangerous, to always be out in the field. Of course, he understood why Aloy tended to trust these things to no one but herself. Sylens had been the same when he was younger. Alas… despite his efforts, middle age had slowed his reflexes, even if his mind only grew sharper. He was confident in his skills, but could no longer take victory against machine or man as a given.
Before the Faro Plague, treatments had been available to slow aging—not to the extent of the Zeniths, but enough to dull the passage of time, keep one as fit as their youth. Sylens had only ever discovered insipid advertisements for such treatments with no real substance backing them, but there were enough that it couldn’t wholly have been pharmaceutical propaganda.
The frustration of having such advancements constantly just out of reach, knowing it was all the work of one selfish man, was unspeakable.
Gradually, through his tinkering, he became aware of voices filtering through from the main communal area. Sylens did not often feel the need to go there, but he could imagine them, sitting around one of the ‘homely’ accessories which Zo had dragged in, talking, discussing, and getting nothing done.
“…think it matches with our records…” he heard Aloy say. “Beta?”
“Checking now…”
She must have descended into muttering, because the next thing he heard, loud and joyful, was Alva’s voice, determined. “I’ll find it! It’s got to be in there!”
“…climb alone,” Aloy returned. A protest, he thought. She’d taken on that particular half-sullen, half-angry tone. “But…”
Sylens shook himself and refocused on his work, no doubt far more crucial to their ultimate success than… climbing. It was certainly his business if they cared to waste so much time chasing nothings, but he knew from experience that Aloy would be too angry to listen right now. Better to leave it until later.
He thought that, but was distracted again by the voices suddenly ceasing. The sound of footsteps, getting closer. The feeling of being watched.
Sylens put down his tools and resisted the urge to massage his temples. To show them how irritating they were might only encourage them. “What do you want?”
*
What they wanted was a companion for Alva on this foolish errand. Climbing the decaying towers in San Francisco, Aloy said, was too dangerous for just one person after her and Alva’s previous experience. Kotallo, Erend, and Zo were too busy, whilst Aloy needed to transport supplies and messages to Barren Light, her rather forced attempt at opening up basic avenues of diplomacy between the Carja and the Quen. Beta, of course, was not nearly strong or practised enough for such a task.
“I don’t think they’ll accept it if it doesn’t come from me personally.” Aloy grimaced. Her tone was milder than she usually took with Sylens. He’d decided to take this as the closest she came to being apologetic.
It was about the only concession being made to common decency. Sylens had given in to temptation and one of his hands was at his temple, trying to keep a headache at bay. He was not having much success. “Even so, I’m sure Alva could contort the legacy as such that one of the Quen would be required to go with her.”
“I don’t trust them with this,” Aloy said bluntly.
Well, she wasn’t completely clueless after all. Sylens was almost tempted to agree just to reinforce this good behaviour, but he shook his head. “The journey to San Francisco is at least two weeks from here. I will not be away from my work for that long. I could not be confident the oaf wouldn’t return and smash it.”
“Erend’s not going to mess with your work.” Aloy sighed.
“The journey can be long, though…” Beta said—it was obvious it was meaningful, but precisely what meaning, he could not decipher.
She met Aloy’s eyes. Aloy blinked, paused, and tilted her head. Beta nodded, firmer than she was usually capable of, making Aloy shrug.
They had taken to doing this recently and it was getting more and more ridiculous. Sylens didn’t want to have to be forced to agree with Erend, complaining about there ‘now being two of them’.
Aloy took a deep breath before she addressed Sylens again. “If you flew… it wouldn’t take much time at all, would it?”
Sylens resisted the urge to scowl. It was tempting. Too tempting. Aloy knew how much he wanted to get his hands on the Sunwing override and had so far resisted sharing it. Maybe she feared that he would fly off and leave them. Sylens couldn’t say that idea didn’t tempt him on many days, either, but he had given his word, and when he decided his position on Earth was no longer tenable, he would simply say as much.
Until then…
“Maybe you could think of the journey as practise,” Aloy continued, with forced cheer that merely came out as sarcasm. “Before you get to try out the real thing full time.”
You can’t have the override itself until you get back. Of course not. It would be… useful…
He tried to keep an impassive face, but they must have sensed his hesitation. Or given that it was Alva who spoke, maybe it was more hoped for than truly noticed. “I really think we could be on to something!” she said, extremely earnest and eager, her fingers folded together like an old world prayer. “Nowak worked for Sasaki’s company after she became CEO. He was still there in late 2064, when the Faro Plague started. Most news about the plague was still suppressed then, but Beta found an email he sent to Eileen Sasaki about it. He suggested she alert their employees in the region so they could take precautions.”
“But not remove themselves. Despite his prescient warnings, even he hadn’t realised how dire the situation really was,” Sylens concluded.
Alva blinked, pulling her head back. “Well, I… I suppose not. But Sasaki did reply to tell Nowak to keep her updated. She said she’d let him know if she heard anything else, either.”
“Fascinating,” he drawled. “Is there a point to this?”
Beta tapped her Focus to bring up a file. Her thin fingers moved with confidence when she pushed it towards him over the network. “The thing is, it looks like there was another email. But someone scrubbed it.”
“It’s not unusual for data to be corrupted over such a long time,” Sylens said, but as he brought up the file himself, he frowned.
“It’s not corrupted,” Beta said, a triumphant gleam in her eyes. “The data is intact. It’s just that all information from it has been scrubbed at a later date.”
It was indeed possible to discover that the last date the file had been edited was in January 2065. “You’re suggesting that Nowak was invited to join Zero Dawn through a contact of Sasaki’s, and then the file was erased later to keep information about the project secret.” He frowned. With Karol Nowak’s clear interest and expertise in the Faro line of robots, it had become slightly more plausible for him to be involved with Zero Dawn. Slightly. “Even if all of this is true, it would be difficult to discover what facility he worked at for Zero Dawn, if not impossible. He most likely died in Elysium.”
Alva shook her head, but remained mute, even when Sylens stared at her.
“There’s another email,” Beta said. The triumph had faded, and she’d become shrunken and quiet again. Mumbling. “Dated September 26, 2065. Nowak asked Sasaki for the updated security codes for the ‘pyramid’ in San Francisco. He claimed he needed to finish something for ‘mutual friends’. Sasaki sent him what he needed, but she expressed concern that he was there ‘in person’ when the swarm was predicted to hit the western coast of the USA in a little over a week.”
Sylens could not contain his surprise. “He was there? That was either extremely foolish or extremely desperate.” He paused. “This pyramid… he didn’t mean—”
“Not Faro’s bunker,” Aloy said quickly. Her lips pulled in a nasty smirk. “Seems our Ted’s originality was lacking to the end. He built Thebes at the base of a tower in San Francisco called ‘the transamerican pyramid’.”
Everything he learned about Ted Faro made the man sound more and more insufferable. This was the least of his transgressions, and yet, Sylens still wanted to strangle him for it.
“Sasaki’s company owned part of that building too,” Alva said. “That was where Nowak’s office must have been. And ‘mutual friends’… it could well be Project Zero Dawn.”
“He could have been referring to any mutual friends,” Sylens replied. “If it was Project Zero Dawn, why was he not in one of their facilities?”
Alva winced. “I… don’t know.” Under his disapproving stare, she wilted still further, only one of her hands held open towards him, almost like she was trying to make her point as small as she was. “Buuut… he must have left for a time, if he needed new access codes. And left without intention of returning, or he would’ve been kept informed about any changes, right? Maybe he had family in the area and he had to come back unexpectedly?”
This was a logical inference. Sylens still didn’t like it. “Family that couldn’t evacuate without his specific help?”
“Look, we don’t know why he was there, we might never know.” Aloy threw her hands up in exasperation. “But there’s enough there that it’s worth looking into. We’re only asking for a week of your time, Sylens, not a noble sacrifice. You probably won’t have to climb the tower at all if you take a Sunwing, at least not all the way.”
And that also served as a reminder of the reward that was being dangled in front of him. It was a very blatant bribe, but Sylens was not above being rewarded for his time.
“Please!” Alva said.
He gave her a withering stare until her hopeful smile faded before turning back to Aloy. He didn’t want them thinking his time could be bought with something as pathetic as asking nicely. “Fine.” The words were forced out through gritted teeth. “But you will owe me a favour.”
“I can live with that,” Aloy said.
She sounded so certain. Tch. Sylens must be getting softer with age.
