Just as Hope and Benji approached the gates, one of the two large doors slid open with a pneumatic hiss. It was an unexpected motion – Benji had seen automatic doors before, but looking at the gates here made him think these were… normal doors. The old fashioned kind, with handles that you could pull or push on to open them. Instead, the door slid into the wall, and Benji jumped in surprise.

His surprise did not abate when he saw Afafa Gbeho on the other side of the door. Their eyes met, and for a few minutes the two stared at one another, until at last Afafa spoke. “Well, alright, come on in. What are you waiting for?”

Benji opened his mouth to say something, and realized he did not know what he was going to say. Whatever he was expecting to hear from Afafa when he saw her again, after their argument yesterday, it certainly wasn’t this. He heard himself chuckle – strange, almost distant – and made his way inside.

Past the door, there was a large room that could have been a crowded auditorium had it been filled as thoroughly as Benji had expected. With fewer than ten people standing inside, though, the room felt uncomfortably large and empty. He looked quickly between each of the other standing in the room: Afafa. Ariel. Deputy-Director Robert Shula. There was a woman in a light leather jacket with a popped collar – a small pendant around her neck whose details Benji couldn’t see. Another woman in casual clothes, looking like she belonged more in the southern highlands of Arit_nor, not Koldrai_en. Her left arm disappeared past the elbow inside a metallic shell. Benji couldn’t tell if it was a prosthetic or a glove. A man – Benji assumed – in a voluminous cloak stood in the far corner of the room, watching the proceedings.

The other new arrivals to Hope’s Enclave

“Ah, Ryan,” the Deputy-Director said, catching Benji’s attention. “Come on in. And Hope! Please, please, come in. Welcome, welcome.” He smiled widely, adjusted his glasses, and looked between the recruits gathered there. “I apologize for the shortness of today’s gathering, and I know that many of you were probably hoping for something a little bit more formal… unfortunately, the Director of Ifterra Project is currently occupied with important business elsewhere and cannot devote his valuable time to briefing new recruits.” When Robert mentioned the Director, Benji could swear he saw the man’s brow crease in disapproval, or frustration, or… he wasn’t sure what exactly it was. He knew only that it made him slightly uneasy.

He could hear the others in the room shifting uneasily, the other newcomers. Benji wasn’t sure whether he was imagining their unease, whether he was projecting his own feelings onto them, but the mood in the room didn’t suit the occasion, or so he felt.

“But!” Robert said, probably sensing the mood of the room. “No matter. I am, after all, the Deputy Director for a reason, and I will tell you everything you need to know. Now I’m sure most of you already know most of what I’m going to say here, but please pay attention because I’m going to be introducing each of you to those you’ll be working directly under, and learning from, while you’re here.” He folded his hands in front of him and took a step back from the crowd.

“Now, first, the part that I’m sure you are already aware of: the Ifterra Project itself. We are here for the express purpose of helping humanity reach the stars. We believe, though we cannot prove definitively, that it has been done before, and we have every intention of doing it again. Humans have spent enough time trying to pick up the pieces of the past, sorting through the detritus of the old world, and it’s about time that we started looking up instead of keeping our eyes on our feet!” Robert smiled sheepishly, pulling at the edges of his coat.

“Well, that’s the pitch anyway. Ifterra Project is housed and conducted in the grand –” when he said grand he held up his arms in a small sweeping gesture – “—city of Hope’s Enclave, which just happens to be the only known Place of Refuge to have been built above the ground. It’s an impressive feat of old-world engineering, which we’re only beginning to understand well enough to expand on.”

“But we are beginning to expand,” said another voice. The woman in the leather jacket stepped forward, and Robert gave her a deep nod, motioning toward her.

“This is First-Mechanic Eliya Kormorant, and if I’m not mistaken a few of you will be her new proteges.” He looked to Benji. “Ryan Sawyer, for instance. Ms. Kormorant is going to teach you everything she knows and from this point forward, you will do exactly as she says, when she says, as long as you’re with the project. She may answer to me, but you will answer to her.” Ryan made eye contact in turn with a couple of the other newcomers in the group. “Nura Dragovic? Brice Patri? The same goes for you. You’re here partially to learn, and of course you will, but primarily you are here to work on Ifterra Project.”

Ryan turned to the whole group. “Each of you may be here for a different reason – because you simply need work, because you want to be part of something greater, because you needed a place to stay and Hope’s Enclave is…” he paused. “Well, about as safe as it gets, even if we are a bit lacking in infrastructure.” Ryan smiled. “But all of you are united by at least one thing, and that’s Ifterra Project. We have a common purpose here!” He gave a bow and waved a hand toward Eliya.

Eliya stepped forward again, a thin smile on her lips. “Yes, what the Deputy-Director said is important. Those of you who are working with me: we’re in mechanics, engineering, fabrication. We are standing right now in a testament to the ingenuity of the old humanity, one of the reasons why we’re even here to begin with. Some of the technology that runs this place might seem past our comprehension – oh, sure, we can make it go, but we don’t know why it goes, we can’t rebuild it or repair it if it breaks down.”

Eliya smiled. “But there is no good reason why this should always be the case. There is no reason why we can’t learn to understand the old humanity’s technology. We have all the technology right here – we have the intelligence to work it and the wisdom of knowing what we have to avoid. We even have some of their memories. A lot of people out there say that a place like this can never be fully understood. Either because the technology is too dangerous, or because humans can’t understand it. Some say these sites are sacred – and I say they’re right.” Benji saw Eliya shuffling her feet nervously, clasping her left hand around her right, eyes darting about the room too quickly to rest on anyone in particular.

“Places like this give us a link to our past,” she continued, holding up a hand and beginning to pace. Benji could see in the way she moved that it was a nervous habit, a way to steady herself as she spoke so that her apprehension wouldn’t be obvious. He knew because he would have done the same. “And the more we can come to understand the technology that drives this place, that continues to drive places like it, the more intelligent we will become. It is fitting, I think, that Ifterra Project is conducted in a Place of Refuge like this, because it may well be that the technology lying latent here from the old humanity is the key to sending us to the stars once again. And even if it is not… it may help us to reach that lofty goal.”

She smiled, lopsided. “So that’s what we’re here for. Mechanics – working the old technology, even the stuff we don’t know well enough to reproduce ourselves. Engineering – building new technology and reverse-engineering what we already have, getting ever-closer to something that can finally send us to the stars. And fabrication – actually creating the things we design, and working on machines for use around Hope’s Enclave. Those of you who are working with me are going to have your work cut out for you – I’ll teach you everything you need to know, but in return I expect you to work and I expect you to put your all into it. if I don’t think you’re cut out for this, you will be reassigned – and while you won’t lose your place in the Enclave, nobody will, I’m sure it’s more exciting for most to be on Ifterra Project rather than manual labor around the walls.”

Eliya stepped away from the middle of the room, sharing a look and a gesture with Robert, mouthing a few words to him. He nodded and turned back to the group. “There’s something else that I’m sure you’ve all been waiting for me to mention. Yes, the rumors are true. Proxima Station and Hope’s Enclave do have a working relationship of sorts.” He muttered the next sentence: “If by that we mean that we’re the only humans they’re willing to talk to.” With a slight chuckle, Robert spoke up again. “The Aliens seem to have taken a special interest in our project, and it’s no wonder why – they came from the stars, and we want to go to the stars. And since we aren’t capable of just flying through space without experiencing, well, spontaneous death… we have to develop other means. I’m sure they’re interested in watching our progress.”

Near Benji, Afafa drew in a sharp breath, and Robert nodded to her. “Of course, we also want to understand the Aliens, ourselves. We know little of their language, we know little of them. And while they can communicate with us, it is neither easy for them nor does it put us on equal footing in whatever relationship may develop between our civilizations. I would like to introduce you all to the Aliens’ envoy to Hope’s Enclave: Unit L31D8.”

The figure in the cloak that Benji had spotted earlier stepped forward into the group, and Benji saw to his surprise that under the hood of the cloak, the face glowed with three pricks of light. It was not a human face, nor did it even resemble a human skull. That it was bipedal in form at all was almost strange to Benji when he looked at the utterly alien arrangement of its features – three eyes, two slits that resembled mouths, a faceplate that was slightly concave instead of sticking out toward the others.

Is… is this an Alien?

He’d heard of them, of course, in the past couple of years – strange, mysterious visitors to Earth who came from a faraway star. They had been rumors, rumors confirmed by a few travelers who’d been through Kolrai_en, but rumors nonetheless. But this…

“Of course the Aliens can’t actually come down to Earth to speak with us – this environment isn’t hospitable for them. Unit L31D8 is a Constructed, and they will be the envoy whom any of you can talk to if you wish to know more about the Aliens, or Proxima Station, and their interest in the Ifterra Project.” Robert grunted. “At least as much as they’re willing to tell us, because our visitors, while certainly intelligent and diplomatic, are particularly tight-lipped.”

Unit L31D8 gave what could have been the approximation of a nod. “This is undeniably true, Deputy-Director Robert Shula. The Drai-Umbra are jealous with their secrets, and have no qualms of admitting this. they are, however, highly interested in humanity and its activities – and, as you say, they would like to see how this project progresses. Should they be pleased, it is certain that in time the Drai-Umbra will share more of their secrets with humanity.”

The exchange nearly made Benji sit down in shock. This creature… it wasn’t organic. It was an android, of some sort. That mask, almost deathlike in its impassive stare, was like something Benji would have expected to see… well, on a soldier’s helmet. But it was a machine! And not only was it a machine, it was a machine capable of thought! He looked toward Eliya, the First-Mechanic, and found to his surprise that she was looking right back at him, an expression of confusion and concern on her face, matching what he was sure his own face said.

“Deputy-Director Robert Shula,” the Constructed said, “I believe Annie Manex wishes to speak.”

Annie – the woman with the metal… glove? Prosthetic? Annie barked a laugh and walked toward the center of the room, not waiting for Robert to introduce her. “Okay, okay, okay, who here is going to be working on the software side of things?” Hope’s hand shot up, along with a couple of others. “Oh, you, alright. What’s your name?”

Hope stiffened, straightened up, and said primly, “Hope… Reese.”

“I’m sorry, can you speak up?” Annie called out. Hope remained stiff, her back straight, and Benji could see her hands trembling where they were folded behind her back.

“Hope Reese,” she said, louder, but hoarse. Annie nodded.

“Okay, Hope. How much experience would you say you have in the area of software?”

“Well, some,” Hope said, quiet again. Annie leaned forward. “Some,” she said, louder. “But of course, I know only a little about the technology that keeps this place running. I passed all of my assessments, of course, but – “

“That’s good enough for me!” Annie said. “I prefer it, actually, that you don’t know what you’re getting into here. Or rather, that you know that you don’t know what you’re getting into. There’s nothing worse than an arrogant mind when dealing with a problem like this.” She grinned. “You see, there are hundreds of years, I mean hundreds of years, worth of old code and older software we can’t even reverse-engineer properly, just sitting on machines in formats we still don’t understand, all around this city. There are massive stores of data, probably really important to this whole project, sitting down there, and we need to figure out how to decode it. Not to mention that if we do ever get to the stars, whatever ship we go on is going to need onboard systems, and on, and on… There’s a lot of work here for us! And I need you to be coming into it knowing that it’s going to be overwhelming. Because we don’t know much! And if we pretend we know more than we know, it’s just going to end in disaster.” She smiled.

“I’m sorry for picking on you like that, Hope. You can relax.” Annie turned to the rest of the group. The others who had raised their hands kept them half-raised, not sure how to react to Annie’s speech. “And yeah, all that goes for you two as well. Oh, right, I almost forgot!” She grinned. “Zvenla Complex, upstairs, we’ve set up a computer lab. It’s the most centrally located place relative to the readable data stores we know of, but there’s no guarantee we’ll still be operating out of that room a year from now. Things change very quickly in this line of work, so you’d better be ready for that. Anyway, I’ve taken up enough of your time!”

Robert nodded. “Thank you, Annie,” he said. “I believe everyone has received their assignments. Take the next few hours to relax a bit and explore the premises, but I want all of you to be in your places by noon. And come to me if you need anything – you should all have been given communicators when you reached your lodgings, and every communicator can contact me whenever necessary.”

Benji inched toward Hope and Afafa, who were standing at the back of the small crowd. “What about the kid?” Benji asked, gesturing toward Ariel, who stood with his hands in his pockets nearby, looking unsure of himself. “I know he’s just a teenager and all, but I thought he was on this project the same as us?”

“I believe he is working directly with his parents, the Fareses,” Afafa said. “They are responsible for great advances in deep space surveying technology, so it is little surprise that if their son is going to work on their project, they will be the ones to instruct him.”

“Oh,” Benji said. “That makes sense.” He couldn’t detect anything readable in Afafa’s voice – disgust or anger or resentment or even neutrality itself. It was the equivalent of the perfect poker face.

Hope sighed. “Well, I am going to get back home to relax a bit. Maybe have a cup of tea.”

“I will join you,” Afafa said, and brushed past Benji without a word. Hope gave him a wave.

“I’ll see you later,” she said.

At the door of their room, Hope stopped when she noticed something wedged under the door. Afafa was walking fast to catch up with Hope, waving her hands wildly. “Why must you walk so quickly, Hope? Is this necessary? Or is it the fashion here?”

Hope was bending down, trying to catch her breath, pulling the piece of paper out from under the door. It was an envelope. She turned it in her hand and looked at the lettering on its front.

For Afafa Gbeho.

There was a seal on it, as well. Two curving lines, with an intricate webbing of lines between them. “It’s for you,” Hope said, handing the letter to Afafa.

The young Orrmisti woman took the letter, looking at the seal for several seconds. “This is genuine,” she finally said. “A missive from the Orrmisti Council. But why was it left here in such an unceremonious way? That hardly seems proper, and besides, who would have –“

“I don’t know, but it’s yours,” Hope said, unlocking the door. “Must be important if it came all the way from the Council.” She pulled out the communication device she’d received earlier and looked down at the screen.

There was a blinking icon in the corner. A new message from someone she hadn’t contacted before.

The name said “Joern Salsberg.”

The subject line: “Everything is not what it seems.”