music: what have we become

Veoc leaned forward with one hand extended and took off his gloves. His fingers were pale and slender, the long digits reminiscent of a musician. Gu Yuzhi’s eyes lingered on them before flicking to the man’s impassive face.

“Let me give you a demonstration,” Veoc said, and Gu Yuzhi’s eyes darted down again, only to see a faint cloud of dust. No—the dust had an origin in Veoc’s hand, breaking off his skin as tiny glittering pieces to shimmer in the air. Gu Yuzhi’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Nanomachines are humanity’s answer to the future,” Veoc went on. He moved his fingers and the dust in his palms instantly converged in the center of his hand to a soft glowing sphere. “We are injected with them at birth so they can assimilate to our bodies, with supplementary doses supplied until early adolescence. They serve many functions—” The ball of light scattered and suddenly reformed into a wicked-looking knife, before dissipating into a 3-D sculpture that Gu Yuzhi vaguely recognized as his own face. “—but play a key role in maintaining our superiority in the universe.”

Veoc waved his hand again, and the sculpture shifted and converged to a fist-sized cube covered with intricate wiring and nodes: a diagram of a nanomachine enlarged to human vision range.

“The civilian population will never need more than a 2.4% nanomachine concentration in their bodies,” he went on. “Government officials average a little higher at 5%, while military servicemen carry the largest proportions with a minimum of 8%. We use them to monitor our health, improve our quality of life, and increase our fighting prowess. You however, were discovered to carry 0% nanotech within your body during the initial analysis, so Major Argent took the illegal route of introducing them into your bloodstream without consent.”

Veoc paused with interest. “If he had succeeded, you would no doubt be recognized as one of our species. However, if your body rejected the implants, it would put your identity under suspicion. Such strong repulsion is rare among ordinary subjects, but very common in Artifacts.” He clenched his fingers, and the nanomachine model floating above his hand suddenly caught sparks and burned away in a burst of flames. “I infer this is why he was so insistent you ‘weren’t human.’ Naturally, I’ll confirm the results myself later.”

The firelight flickered in Gu Yuzhi’s eyes before he rose to his feet and walked towards Veoc. Behind the transparent barrier, he regarded him carefully.

“Artifacts are objects of power?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Then what kind of artifact am I?”

Veoc replaced his glove and folded his arms. “Preliminary scans indicate a strong tendency towards support and defense roles.”

Perfect, that was his exact role in the apocalypse.

“What about the ability users?” Gu Yuzhi asked.

Veoc quirked a brow. “What do you mean?”

“What role do they play in this world?” Gu Yuzhi pressed. “They don’t need nanomachines to use their powers and they can pass them onto their children. Isn’t that much less hassle?”

Veoc was silent for a while before he asked, “What kinds of powers?”

Gu Yuzhi frowned and began to list them off. There were fighters who could call down lightning or summon wind and fire, defense types who made walls of pure earth to block their mutated peers or beasts from attacking, and healers who cleaned up water sources, treated diseases, and closed up wounds.

“Are there really humans like that?” Veoc sounded intrigued.

“Yes?”

The major general shook his head. “I’ve never heard of them. Perhaps their powers died out after humanity moved into space.”

Gu Yuzhi couldn’t argue with his logic. After all, the only reason humanity developed abilities in the first place was because of the mutation that spread around the world and infected its population. A radioactive asteroid crashed into a section of North America and contaminated the earth. Rainwater spread the radiation and distorted plants and animals, eventually crawling up the food chain to human beings. 

Some succumbed to the strange and unfamiliar toxins and died. Others mastered them and developed strange powers. Still others mutated in uncontrollable ways until the process ate up their reason and left them as monsters feeding on instinct: the zombies. For years, humanity fought against their corrupting influence. Gu Yuzhi vaguely remembered a research group declaring they had created a spaceship capable of endless flight in the later days, a modern Noah’s Ark that would take civilization off the hellscape that was Earth. Perhaps those survivors had fled to space where their freakish skills faded after successive generations.

He doesn’t remember whether he went with them. 

Finding no point in speculating, Gu Yuzhi focused on the business at hand. “You mentioned I have certain rights?”

Veoc became all business. “Correct. Our fleet was assigned a retrieval mission to recover you from Glaciem. We’ll be presenting you to the royal family, but you have the freedom to choose which division to join afterwards.”

Leaving aside the fact that they still have royalty this day and age…

“And if I’d rather not?” Gu Yuzhi arched a brow.

Veoc shook his head. “They’ll likely put you in stasis if you refuse.”

Gu Yuzhi’s lips thinned into a faint smile as he rested his forehead against the glass wall. “They can do that?”

“I’m not clear on the methods, just that they exist,” Veoc admitted honestly. “You’re not the first sentient Artifact with these thoughts.”

“I see,” Gu Yuzhi was noncommittal.

“Joining the military can be a rewarding experience,” Veoc added. “There are chances to earn merit and explore the galaxy. During peacetime, there is little risk to your life and you may even earn a reasonable rank by the time you retire.”

“Can Artifacts retire?” Gu Yuzhi smiled mockingly.

“Research has shown that resting them for 50-year periods substantially improves their performance in battle,” Veoc said with a straight face.

“.....” So I have to report to work after that? Wait, can I even live that long in the first place?

Veoc clears his throat. “I believe we should move onto the matter of compensation from Major Argent before the day is over.”

Argent ard Sevyn had been foisted onto Veoc by his family who’d been thoroughly sick of his capricious temper and fickle whims. He was to take one tour of duty with the major general and come back with some accomplishments beneath his belt before his father would let him home. Luckily, Argent had admired Veoc from youth and didn’t balk at the arrangement, even if he was rather lackadaisical as a rank-and-file officer.

“Ah, him,” Gu Yuzhi nodded mutely. “Just have him keep me company for the next two weeks.”

Veoc froze and looked at him strangely. “You are...lonely?”

“No?” Gu Yuzhi blinked at him. “But I’m going to be bored out of my mind if you keep me here with nothing to do.”

“We can provide you with a tablet that grants standard civilian clearance to the Galacti-Net for the duration of your stay."

Gu Yuzhi guessed that was what passed for the Internet these days. “I’d rather talk to a real ‘human,’” he said, emphasizing the last word cheekily.

Veoc considered his request. He was a handsome man to begin with but rather stiff. When he fell deep into thought, he unconsciously leaned forward, allowing strands of hair to fall in his face and frame those unfocused blue eyes. Like this, his looks resembled more of an academician, giving him a softer air. 

When Veoc finally looked up, Gu Yuzhi had been openly staring at him for a few minutes. Their gazes locked, but the latter only gave him an amiable smile to which the major general nodded without comment.

“Is holding human conversation your only requirement?” he clarified carefully.

Gu Yuzhi nodded again, looking every inch the docile captive.

“Major Argent will still have to fulfill his duties on the ship,” Veoc explained. “But I will allow him to accompany you in the evenings. However, he is not to enter your quarters and must remain outside the barrier at all times.”

“Sure,” Gu Yuzhi agreed easily. 

“I will still have the tablet provided for you during other times. You can use it to better understand this universe.”

“Uh-huh.”

“If your solitude becomes unbearable, you may call on me as well,” Veoc added. “The tablet will facilitate communications between us while on the ship.”

“Oh? Won’t you be busy?” Gu Yuzhi was genuinely curious. 

“The travel route back to the capital is very safe,” Veoc replied matter-of-factly. “I too, will be plagued with an excess of spare time. I am also the only one with enough security clearance to visit you unimpeded and unannounced.”

“Well, I hope you’ll send a message first,” Gu Yuzhi raised his brows in mock alarm. “I can’t imagine you coming in while I’m half-dressed.”

“Do you have a habit of undressing yourself throughout the day?” Veoc queried.

Gu Yuzhi pretended to think about that seriously before shaking his head. “No, only mornings and evenings.”

“Then I shall endeavor to restrict my visits to noon,” Veoc was ever efficient.

“That’s very accommodating of you, major general.”

“It is in imperial interests to provide every comfort for a sentient Artifact,” Veoc replied. “Provided our working relationship remains cooperative, Gu Yuzhi.”

“Deal,” Gu Yuzhi finished. “By the way, what’s—”

“Boss!” 

Argent rushed back into the room as quickly as he’d left it ten minutes ago, skidding into a sharp salute. “Boss, it’s bad—” He halted at the sight of Gu Yuzhi, frowned, and lowered his voice to mutter, “Emergency at medbay, it’s approaching critical.”

“Use military designation code while on the ship,” Veoc’s brow was already wrinkled. “You’ve been drilled on this already.”

“I mean Gamma, maybe Beta—” Argent scratched his head. “—but it’s just bad, Boss! We’ve got two guys down from the mission and the doctors don’t know how to fix them—woah!”

Veoc had gotten to his feet and glided out of the room before Argent even finished his sentence. He blanked for a second before shooting one last, suspicious look at Gu Yuzhi. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Gu Yuzhi raised his hand and waved at him.

Argent dashed out in a huff. 

—

The two soldiers in the medical bay had been secured in a special isolation chamber provided for such emergencies. Two doctors and orderlies attended them both while dressed in specially designed anti-radiation suits.

“What’s the status?” Veoc's voice rang out from the speakers while he watched from the viewing room.

“Sir!” one of the doctors saluted crisply. “Privates Cypher and Stella reported for a standard check-up this morning…” He went on to detail their symptoms which were all classic signs of radiation poisoning that were worsening by the minute. Argent arrived just as he finished, leaving Veoc to bark out questions at him.

“Major, what were they in charge of during the ground mission?”

“Boss!” Argent stood at attention. “Those two packed away our retrieval supplies.” The team had prepared an old-school harness to move the Artifact to avoid damaging it with direct contact, but it had been left to soak in the ocean while they figured out how to retrieve Gu Yuzhi from sea.

“Who else was helping them? Get them here,” Veoc ordered. “Also—have all the items they touched that day brought back to the labs. They’ll be put under further observation until they’re clear.”

“Boss, the supplies were already decontaminated,” Argent pointed out even as he passed on orders via transmission. If Veoc was trying to trace any signs of radiation from that harness, it might have faded by now.

“Have the lab technicians verify it again,” Veoc replied before opening his palm. A stream of nanoparticles immediately condensed in the center of his hand, pulsing like a human heart. “Seren.”

A musical female voice emanated from the mass of particles in his palm.

〘YES, COMMANDER. 〙

“Initiate Gamma-4 lockdown procedures for the ship. Special exemption to Major Argent and his team.”

〘 AFFIRMATIVE, COMMANDER. EXEMPTIONS NOTED. GAMMA-4 INITIATING IN 10...9...8...〙

—

Gu Yuzhi was in the middle of inspecting his room when the lights overhead suddenly sharpened into a cold ice-blue. He wondered if the ship was turning down for the night when an unfamiliar female voice began to echo around the room.

〘ALL HANDS STAND BY. ALL HANDS STAND BY. ACTIVATING GAMMA-4 PROTOCOLS, PLEASE REMAIN AT YOUR STATIONS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. 〙

“....” Gu Yuzhi had no idea what that meant and gingerly sat on the bed, which was simply a large rectangular slab sticking out of the wall. 

Then all hell broke loose. 

The inert surface beneath him suddenly surged in liquid form to snake around his waist and clamp his torso against the wall. Before he could react, more of the material swam over and around his wrists and ankles to bond with the other side, effectively pinning him to his seat. 

What— Even Gu Yuzhi’s thoughts were cut short as a final clamp wound around his throat and nearly choked his windpipe.

〘UNREGISTERED C-CLASS ARTIFACT DETECTED AND SECURED. 〙the same female voice announced to nobody in the room.

With difficulty, Gu Yuzhi looked down to see that the bands binding him in place had solidified into black metallic restraints made of the exact same material as the bed and walls. He tried flexing a few times, but the metal didn’t budge.

Well, this is awkward.

—

“They’re not responding to treatments, major general.” Back in the medbay, the doctor in charge looked up desperately from his two patients. “Nanomachine losses are at 1.02% and rising. There are indications of multiple organ failures—”

“Are they beyond help?” Veoc cut in.

The doctor could only fret. “We can’t work fast enough to counteract the radiation’s effects. If there was some way to stop the spread—get the bucket!”

One of the orderlies hastened to put a bucket next to a soldier’s face just as he gagged and hurled up a bloody mess. 

“At this rate they won’t last the hour,” the doctor warned. “Major general, should we—?” Terminate them, were the words left unsaid, but everyone in the room understood it implicitly. 

“S-sir,” one of the soldiers—Private Cypher, he remembered—managed to feebly raise his head. “It’s fine. I—I have no family—”

His partner had already lost consciousness. Veoc’s gaze swept over their ravaged bodies, his mind calculating options. Then his ear buzzed with a message.

“Boss!” Argent was on the other side of the line. “The harness isn’t reacting, but other crewmates don’t look so good either.”

Veoc’s eyes flickered before he asked, “How many?”

“Four total. We’ve already isolated them.”

“Inform me of further changes.” Veoc looked up and locked eyes with the doctor. “Keep them stable for five more minutes.”

The doctor seemed to sense hope as he nodded. “I'll do my best.”

Veoc ran back out of the room. In less than two minutes, he was pushing open the door to Gu Yuzhi’s quarters and striding in.

“Gu Yuzhi, we need your h—” he stopped. Blue eyes met brown through the glass barrier and carefully took in the sight of the teen strapped awkwardly in place like a fresh crate of produce.

“Every comfort provided, I see,” Gu Yuzhi remarked drolly.

—