Long-coiled and footed, a dragon glowing of sunlight was heaped against one wall of Arjun Woollibee’s control office. Manageably sized but not in true diplomatic form, ‘e was clearly injured where one side throbbed with darkness. Arkuda’s eyes were clear and fixed upon the engineer as ‘e spoke. “Your enemies have found you. They are here to attack you.” That sank in, and Arjun looked up through the cieling and several pressures of water. “There’s an unfriendly-looking reception awaiting you at the surface. Keep your new system activated, and I’ll bring you a live image.”

A flicker of appreciation for a visiting friend showed on Arjun’s face, as he acknowledged the serious situation with complete attention. The image flickered hazily into the room, beaming out from a sunstrip corner. A cluster of attack hovers were focused around some familiar-looking but nondescript open ocean, their usual surfacing point. “They look like mercenaries. I would like to think they’re Pliskin’s,” assessed Woollibee in reference to their umbrella company Plexus’ founding inventor, “but they don’t look defensively equipped, and we’ve had no notice. Did they see you?”

“They did not, I was a mere shimmer upon the water. Do you know who would want to attack you?” asked the dragon with a pained breath.

“I know who I would think of first. Given their timing, I’m almost sure,” nodded Woollibee. “Some of our research partners have disappeared, with involvement of people linked to Foundational groups. They believe humanity should stick to its foundations, and very often that means they oppose learning and discovery. They are a group only of humans… who apparently now have our surfacing coordinates.”

The First Abyssal Inverse Dwelling Designer (First AIDD) had another innovation to add to the hidden private research station informally known as the Arch; not the first time this had been the case since it was active and inhabited. This generally reassured residents, as though the place couldn’t be falling apart if First AIDD Arjun Woollibee had time and resources to be coming up with something new.

He’d gone through various corridors hanging a type of minimal conduit, sticking it up like a holiday decoration. Arjun traded interestingly awkward smiles upon eye contact, being sure to alert the people in charge of each area that this was his intentional element in process. He was mostly able to proceed without additional questioning – he didn’t prefer to explain things before he’d gotten them working, and many understood this about him.

Back at his control base, he broadcasted a drill signal before he threw his lever. Along the conduits, the wavelength spectrum of genuine, not simulated, sunlight filled the halls. Benevolent ghosts of lost Anzi! After doing a personal victory jig right then and there, Arjun emerged for an applause stroll.

He was not disappointed, as everyone was delighted. In a larger chamber where the sunstrips glowed, someone in the congratulatory group asked how he’d gotten sunstrips to work through the profound abyssal layers of Foshan’s deepest oceans. “It’s a transmission. A particular pulse parts the water in an atomic scale stream, allowing in photons of natural daylight above. The pulse remains continuously connected with a current that keeps the conduit steady around the photon packeting, traveling between synchronized waveform coding inherent to the vibrative and receptive surfaces. We’ll receive the same daylight that shines above, with the same spectra, levels of natural intensity and times of rising and setting, as sunstrips normally work. And while we have the sunlight, we also have communications open to priority.” A moment of quiet while that sank in, then the room erupted in cheers.

Arjun walked back into his office eyes closed, both relishing the moment and feeling a drop in achievement adrenaline that heralded a sweet rest to follow. As he heard the door seal, he opened his eyes, and was as surprised by the sight in his office as people were about the sunlight in the halls.

NAME/AGE
Bassel Ayo

PLACE OF RESIDENCE
Ionos Capital

HA235 PATIENT QUESTIONNAIRE
– How have you felt since returning home?
Fine

– How are your friends and family treating you?
Okay

– Would you say that readjusting has been easy or difficult?
Easy

– Do your affected senses seem better, worse, or the same as before?
Same

– Have you changed activities since your illness? If so, what has changed?
No

– When you think of Pyrean Midsummer, how do you feel?
Pyrean Midbummer

– What do you think of the care provided by the Imperium?
Good

Raev lounged against the couching curve of the alcove, where he was viewing a covert signal extraction of imperial news programming in purple tint. He’d had a full day of instructing novice plumber-technicians in the new wing. This included a couple messes, because in all honesty, it had been a while since he’d been top teen helper for the plumbing at the Hirylien refugee situation. He had gotten really good at it though, even working with scraps. This time they had the good material in quantity, and they just had a smashing success with the simultaneous flush. Despite all their similarities to Humans, Vedani do not excrete solid waste, so this had been an exciting sociological foray.

In the little warping broadcast, the new King Proxem was making declarations about danger and safety. He urged people to take care of home, reminding them that they are, of course, the best that ever was.

All of this just kills Raev a little more, groaning as he collapses further. He then propped himself back up with an offensive gesture from his home planet.

Looking at each one of the attending royal children, he considered what was known about Mireille, Cristobal, and Carlo. He had a dad when he was Cristobal’s age, too. They’d look different if they knew what he’d done. It bothered him a little that he didn’t have a plan for them, though that was probably for the better.

Raev’s eyes drooped balefully at this guy in the image with his important persona, trying to look competent and real. Sturlusson could read the policy transitions between lines of speech, shifts after the passing of Celeste. Oh, Raev had hated her so much. Still, he might hate Vario more, knowing whose counsel and implementation were most critical in the massacre of his home world by biological warfare.

These wounds were starting to feel older, now. Surprising… maybe something had changed. Just then, a message reached him. Oh – it’s this one. Sturlusson hadn’t heard from er for a while, but remembered the conditions for next contact from the Red Nexus dragons. He considered the possibilities and reformed his sinews, exhaling exhaustion before giving this his attention.