{"sf1_id":667144,"sf2_id":null,"title":"Something Old, Something New","author":"StGeorgesHorse","words":2677,"posted_at":"2014-02-13T19:16:00.000Z","tags":["Discovery","Equine","Fox","Steam Punk","Story Progression"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/667144-something-old-something-new","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/view/667144","image_url":"https://www.sofurryfiles.com/std/thumb?page=667144\u0026ext=.jpg","description":"#5 of Tales from The Hub\n\nNo sex, just a segue to the next chapter, which will follow right behind this one.","content":"                Now that I had a partner, such as he was, I needed to keep\nhim occupied during down time. I chose him largely because he was good with his\nhands. I had old equipment sitting around, and while I didn't think he could\nnecessarily handle it any better than I could, I was positive there was no one\nelse around that could even begin to think about it. You see, the entire\nGuardian Industries complex belonged to me. Don't ask me why. I'm fairly\ncertain I'll spill the beans on that bit of luck later on.\n                After I\nkicked his boy-toy out, I was more willing to allow him access to the rest of\nthe warehouse.  I didn't want just anyone\nhaving run of the place. All I needed was the Brotherhood coming down on me. It\nwasn't that I couldn't handle them, merely that an all out war wasn't going to\nbenefit anyone. OK, so I wasn't equipped to take on an army. They kept a low\nprofile when it came to being armed, but I knew damn well they had be\nconfiscating weapons for centuries. I doubted the melted them down for scrap!\n                I\nflipped on the switches that lit up the warehouse. It took a moment for the\npower to wake up and flow through the wiring. Lights began flickering on\nrandomly before they got into sync. By the time the last one was lit, Bolshoi\nwas a quivering mess on the floor of the balcony. I suppose the sight of\nthousands of pieces of outlawed old-tech was a little overwhelming.  Add to that hundreds of crates, boxes and\ncanisters, well...\n                I let\nhim get himself in order before we headed down the stairs. The first thing I\nwanted him to do was look over my cycle. It as a sharp piece of work and I\ndoubted there was another intact one in the city. As it was, most of the\noriginal parts had been replaced with brass and copper ones. The new cycles\nwere all hydrocarbon fuel based, a new fangled thing some bright boy had found\nto do with the bubbling black springs to the south, past the giant shield of\nrock The Hub sat on. This was an old protean drive model, probably around five\nto seven hundred years old. The drive was a multivariable, dual crystal, ion\nexchange power plant that was self-renewing. It operated on the same principle\nas the warehouse itself. The problem was parts. The warehouse probably had\nthem, but quite honestly, I had no desire to root around myself. It was boring\nand I didn't like boring things.\n                Bolshoi\nwas walking around like a kid in a candy shop. His fingers traveled across the\ncopper and brass parts like he was in a dream. He never said a word, just kept\nwalking, looking and touching.  We\nwandered for over an hour, going ever deeper into the bowels of the building.\nAt one point we went farther than I had ever bothered going in my entire life.\nTo be honest, I just wasn't that curious. The factory had been in operation for\nso long even my father couldn't remember it running. If I had been, I might\nhave found what we were about to find, and it was a good thing I hadn't found\nit alone. I probably would have put my fist into it.\n                It all\nstarted when he found a crate marked as possibly holding parts for the bike. I\npulled the ones from on top and tossed them to the side so we could get to the\none we wanted. In doing so we uncovered a door. Now an unknown door wasn't very\nfrightening, but I was still cautious. Someone seemed to have gone out of their\nway to block it off. \n                Bolshoi\ntried the handle, only to discover it locked. That never stopped me. I gripped\nit and tore it loose from its moorings. Inside the room nothing was visible. I\nreached through the doorway and fumbled for a switch. My thick fingers tripped\nacross a plate and I gave it a push. It took a moment for the lights to whir to\nlife. A few units popped on and off like a lightning storm before they\nstabilized. \n                The\nroom as filled with equipment of a style that didn't even register on my brain.\nIt was seemingly here as storage, but was placed in a functional order. Bolshoi\nlet out a high pitched yelp of excitement. It caught me off guard and I nearly\npunched him. \n                \"Chill\nfoxy boy. I have no idea just what the hell this is all about. It has nothing\nto do with Guardian. It can't. Look, the tags say something else.\" I brushed my\nfingers across the console, dislodging centuries of dust. There was an ID tag\nmolded right into the framework. I don't know what I was expecting, but the\nthree letters spelled out G.O.D.  \n                Bolshoi\nwas literally crawling over the stuff. \"Does it still work?\"                \n                It was\na stupid question. I bashed my fist on the wall next to me. \"How the hell\nshould I know? Until a few minutes ago I didn't know this room was here!\" \n                Apparently\nmy fist did something best left undone. I hit the power panel. A few sparks\nflew from the unit before the machinery began humming to life. Lights appeared\nfrom under the layers of dust. Operating fans kicked in, blowing clouds of dust\ninto the air. I was preparing to retreat when another group of fans sprang to\nlife, sucking the dust to who knew where.  I looked over to my partner to find him\nstanding in total disbelief.\n                \"Veracity...this\nshouldn't be here.\"\n                \"Where\nthe hell should it be? And for that matter, what is it?\"\n                \"It\ncan't be what I think it is. There's no way it could be. I saw it in a book\nonce. But it's impossible.\" He was going to have to tell me where he found a\nbook of sufficient age to explain this. The Brotherhood had gone out of its way\nto wipe the original texts from public viewing.\n                \"Fine!\nIt's impossible. Great! So what the hell is it?\"\n                He\ndidn't answer. Instead, he brushed the dust off, watching as it was sucked into\nsome invisible air handlers. One of the machines had a circular black panel on\ntop. As his hand ran across it the machine lit up even brighter. He jumped back\nlike it had bit him. I just chuckled.\n                \"What's\nthe matter little one? Afraid of the big bad machine?\" I continued to wipe away\nthe dust. As my hand passed over the disc, it became frozen in place. A voice\ncame from the machine. \"Please hold while your recognition scan is complete.\"\nDespite my strength, I couldn't move my arm. It lasted just long enough for me\nto be engaged in pulling with all my might when it let go. Needless to say, I\nwent flying to the floor in a heap. My partner snickered.\n                I was\npissed enough to grab him up and force his hand on the machine. He yipped when\nthe thing got a hold of him. Whatever the field was it was enough to keep him\nin place while I let go. If I couldn't move, neither would he. The machine\nrepeated the same monotone warning it had for me. This time when it let go, it\nwas his turn to get dumped on the floor. \n                We both\nstared at the machine as it hummed to life. It kept repeating the same word\nover and over, \"calculating, calculating, calculating.\" After a few minutes of\nthis I spoke to the room in general. \"If all this thing is going to do is talk,\nI think I'd prefer it to shut up!\" \nThe voice stopped momentarily only\nto pose a question. \"Input. Desire for unit to continue in silent mode?\"\n                I\nwasn't certain about that, but it sounded good to me. \"Uh...yes?\"\n                \"Unit\nwill continue to process data until present queue is examined and categorized.\nDesire to open frequency channels prior to obtaining results?\"\n                \"Uh...sure?\"\nI stammered.\n                \"Compliance.\"\n                Another\npart of the machine sprang to life. Bolshoi seemed to have gotten his courage\nback, returning to dusting off the console. As he did, a series of lights\nembedded in the unit glowed red. \"What did I just do?\"\n                \"Like I\nhave any idea what you just did. Maybe we should quit messing with this stuff,\nturn it all back off and act like we never found it.\" I wasn't afraid, just\nnaturally cautious. Like I said, someone seemed to have hidden this away for a\nreason.\n                The\nlittle fool was examining the face of the control panel. Instead of having\nbrass switches, it was a flat opaque plate with the light coming up from\nsomewhere inside the machine. \"I read about this in a book I found, an ancient\nbook that had indestructible pages. It isn't like any of the paper ones they've\nmade for the past few hundred years. This thing is a communicator.\"\n                I had\ncommunicators. None of them were monsters like this. What was the point in\nhaving something you couldn't carry around with you? \"A communicator to where?\nThis thing is huge!\"\n                He\ntried fiddling with the controls. Nothing happened immediately. The machine\nspoke up again. \"Controls locked pending verification.\" \n                \"Verification\nof what?\" I spouted at the contraption.\n                \"Verification\nof proper DNA sequencing. Use of this terminal is restricted to users\nauthorized by the Prime Originator. Only Prime designates may use the terminal.\nVerification is presently seventy three percent complete on the first\nsubject.\"  \n                So much\nfor this thing shutting up. I was going to ask it another question, but figured\nthat seventy three percent of whatever it was doing meant it was almost done.\nThere was no point in getting it mad at me. Bolshoi apparently had no such\nqualms. \n                \"What\nis the purpose of this device?\"\n                The\nmachine whirred to life again. \"Designated purpose of G.O.D. Communicator is to\ncontact Prime Originator.\"\n                It was\nrare that I felt fear. The feeling was creeping up my backbone. I had a few\nquestions of my own. \"Who is this Originator?\n                The\nmachine seemed to be thinking on it. \"Limited database without authorization.\nAuthorization pending. Authorization pending...\"\n                Bolshoi\nwas shaking with excitement. \"Do you realize what this means? It means all the\nancient tales are true. There is a God!\"\n                I\nsnorted, recovering some of my usual demeanor. \"According to the Brotherhood,\nthe only way to God is through them. Are you trying to tell me that this hunk\nof metal will do it instead?\"\n                The\nmachine lit up like a meteor in the night sky. \"Verification complete.\nDesignation Equial, bipedal; intelligence ranking, Prime. Biology ranking,\nPrime. Gender, male. DNA results show seventh generational changes from\noriginal concept. Life signs show above average evolution. Twenty percent mass increase\nfrom original concept.\" It went quiet for a moment. \"Please input data. Name?\"\n                I\nwasn't sure what to tell it, so I told it the truth. \"Veracity Harms.\"\n                \"Subject\nVeracity Harms now has access to all G.O.D. \nfiles and protocols. Do you wish to make an informational request?\"\n                \"Sure.\nWho the hell invented you? And who is this God person? Personally I never\nbelieved he existed.\"\n                \"G.O.D.\nfiles are extensive. Please narrow down the scope of your request.\"\n                \"Narrow\ndown? Sure. How about if I just ask him myself?\" I thought I was being really\nclever. I'd show this machine what for!\"\n                \"Request\naccepted. Tuning long range frequencies. Finding the antenna array. Testing\ncircuits. This will require time to retune the array for proper subspace\nchannels. Please stand by.\"\n                I\nwasn't a coward, but even I knew that I had just overstepped my bounds. No one\ntalked to God! Well, I suppose you could talk to him, but it seemed like I was\ngoing to \"talk\" with him. It made me feel small inside. That's no easy thing to\ndo.\n                The machine hummed for a while,\nonce in a while making crackling noises. Sounds echoes from the warehouse.\nCreaks and groans of things long silent made eerie noises. They stopped. The\nvoice came back. \"Channels now tuned. Preference?\"\n                \"Preference\nfor what you stupid machine?\"\n                \"Preference\nfor available channels? This unit has ten million, four hundred thousand eight\nhundred and sixty five available channels. It has a single line wavelength\ndesignation of two two three point seven one five point six nine zero seven.\"\n                \"Just\ndo what you think is best.\" I said with as little emotion as I could. I was\nthankful my partner was keeping his yap shut. I was growing concerned, and that\nmade me jittery. When I was jittery, bad things happened.\n                \"Affirmative.\nBroadcasting on designated frequency. Please wait for confirmation.\"\n                And\nwait we did. I was getting hungry and so was he.  We hadn't figured on being down here this\nlong. Now I didn't want to miss anything, and he would likely get lost, so we\nsat with empty stomachs and growing expectations. I grumbled about the lack of\nfood, to which Bolshoi replied, \"Why don't you ask the machine?\"\n                It\nwasn't going to hurt. \"Hey machine! Ya got any food?\"\n                Up came\nthat monotone voice. \"Food, designated protein packets, can be found in locker\ndesignated F.S. one four three on sublevel two.\"\n                That\nwas news to me. I've lived here my whole life and never knew there was a\nsublevel two. I doubted the food would be any good anymore. It was a matter of\ngoing back to my living quarters or sitting here hungry. I sat where I was.\nBesides, if things got too bad, I could always eat my Vulp friend. Don't worry,\nI'm just kidding! Still...\n                We were\nstartled out of the silence of our thoughts by the machine announcing,\n\"Designated contact source found. Designated recipient is located at zero point\nfive five zero nine Gamma. Waiting for confirmation from onboard communication\ncomputer.\"\n                I had\nno idea what any of that meant.  The\nmachine lit up and went into a frenzy of activity. \"System upgrade is in\nprogress. Host computer is performing software overwrite. Host computer is\noverriding original protocols. System reboot necessary.\" Then the damn thing\nshut down. The lights went dead, the humming stopped and...nothing.\n                I was\npissed. \"I've been down here starving to death for hours waiting on this thing\nto turn itself off?\" Bolshoi shrugged. He wasn't as vocal in his\ndisappointment, but it was still evident. \nThat was when I noticed a single blue light blinking. It was still\nalive, if that was the correct word for it.\n                The\nlights came on again. A new voice came across. It was decidedly female. \"System\nreboot and new system configuration complete. Please state your name.\"\n                Stupid\nmachine. \"Veracity Harms.\"\n                \"Verified.\nPlease wait while contact is established with Prime Originator.\"\n                I've\nnever shit my pants, but I nearly did at those words. Unless this was some old,\nelaborate hoax that had been sitting here in the dark for nearly five hundred\nyears, I was going to be talking with the one who created everything and\neveryone!\n                The\nnext voice to come through the machine was initially flat toned, though\ndistinctly male. It sounded confused. \"This signal originates from System M\nNine Zeta Six Six. Loss of signal occurred nearly 500 solar years  ago local time. Must be errant equipment power-up\nand error.\"\n                Bolshoi\nleaned into the microphone and spoke. \"Helllooooo?\"\n                There\nwas a delay. \"Well by all that's holy and that which is not! Is there still\nlife on my Great Experiment?\" "}