Life of Calchas

A charming, bald man with an overly bright smile pointed his finger at Ada and exclaimed:

"YOU have always wanted to KNOW EVERYTHING about the Wau! Who are they? How many are they?"

The screen on the wall replaced the man's face with an image of a golden, featureless, oval mask reflecting the lens of a drone camera.

"What lies behind the mask? An AI? A transhuman? A Transient? Or perhaps a Xeno? Are they allies of the Human Society? Are they a control mechanism? Why do they want to speak to us today? What do they have to tell us? For the first time since their emergence during the tribal crisis on Escalus Prime, a Wau will speak on our screens. It will be a very special QUESTION OF THE DAY, brought to you, as always, by…"

Tomorrow, thought Ada. For a week now, the PanHS broadcasts had been advertising this special interview.

But Ada already knew perfectly well what a Wau was—not "a" Wau but "the" Wau: the antagonist in all the adventure stories of the League of Antioch.

Wau was a giant man, twice the size of an adult, clad in an old astronaut suit dating back to the early years of space exploration. His oversized golden visor reflected his sinister, deep voice. At dramatic moments, one might glimpse the face of a man behind the visor: eyes blazing with a manic passion, haunted by a cruel smile. Wau served as the armed enforcer of the Human Society. He would arrive on planets where humans and Xenos lived in harmony, corrupt them with gifts and wealth, seize power, and trigger a resistance. When the resistance rose, he would kill a few rebels. The Human Society rewarded him with heaps of golden coins called thalers, which he hoarded in a star fortress carved into an asteroid. Alone, he delighted in the demonic joy of simply owning his wealth.

But the heroes of the League of Antioch would arrive on the oppressed planet and aid the resistance. Chief among them were the sisters Aida and Yelena, warriors armed with a magical spear and a quantum whip gifted by a Transient who had, of course, joined the League's righteous cause. Together, they stood against Wau, who could have won if not for his constant distraction by opportunities for wealth or the weight of his gold.

However, Ada's favorite hero was Gorylkin: an ordinary man in a modern astronaut suit bearing the League's colors. Gorylkin triumphed through wit and a good heart. His motto: "The mind triumphs over strength."

Ada longed to be like Gorylkin. The promised three weeks in her room had stretched on endlessly, and today was her eleventh birthday.

Her room was a space of soft, indestructible off-white walls. One screen displayed artwork from the Human Society, while another broadcasted propaganda-filled fiction and news. A large bay window—seemingly real rather than virtual—overlooked what she had been told were "the Waterfalls of Calchas."

The complex in which she was confined appeared to be part of a city suspended by bridges and pillars over a circular chasm of indeterminate depth. Towering green mountains plunged into immense waterfalls, their energy harnessed by turbines at various levels.

Brightly colored dragonfly-like murmurations darted through the air, avoiding placid Xeno creatures resembling floating balloons that hunted them with sticky mucus.

Below, a maze of bridges and walkways teemed with a predominantly human crowd, each dressed uniquely—a sight Ada found both fascinating and exhausting. Why wasn't that man in red, with the wide-brimmed hat, dressed like anyone else? Was he dangerous? The crowd mingled, bumped into each other, and even children seemed happy, clutching small toys that stirred in Ada a mix of envy and shame.

The Xenos, praised by the League of Antioch for their immense wisdom, were equally diverse. Ada had been told, "They can take any form: invisible, a living echo in incomprehensible ruins, or as vast as a moon or as small as a grain of sand. Some live seven seconds, others are eternal. There are as many Xeno types as stars in the sky."

From her window, she saw Calchas' Xenos in all their variety: a fur-covered silver worm as long as an arm, sponge-like beings exuding vapors that formed purple words in the air, humanoids with eagle heads, dripping octopus-like creatures (apparently celebrities, given the humans taking photos of them), humanoids with extra limbs concealed beneath flowing robes, floating orbs clustered together, and even a massive black-and-white orca-like creature with three legs and two arms that stepped over dozens of passersby with each stride—an Escalusian.

Ada's joy and frustration came from her LE (Living Encyclopedia - commonly called Ellie), a portable terminal containing the world's knowledge. She used it to identify Xenos or ask questions about them, pointing them out through her window. The floating orbs, for instance, were a single entity often wandering space, considered close to transcendence (whatever that meant). The LE's database labeled it simply as Calchas-Zeta-1.

Through the LE, Ada pursued her passion for science and mathematics. She developed a particular fondness for prime number distribution, immersing herself in its long history. However, the LE was also a gatekeeper. When she asked how to open a locked door or break the bay window, it responded that it didn't know—though it knew everything else. This inconsistency was suspicious, especially as her HS chaperone, Solstice, would arrive half an hour later, feigning casual concern for Ada's well-being.

Solstice was a small woman, her body compacted by life under permanent planetary gravity. Freckles dotted her face, and her hair was braided with finely crafted metal clips—personal possessions, which initially shocked Ada. Over time, she grew accustomed to Solstice's far more shocking habit of wearing different clothes daily: red linen trousers, a floral-patterned skirt, a technician's tunic. One day, Solstice remarked while seated across from Ada in the spacious room:

"These clothes, and others, belong to me."

"Ada, the Human Society isn't so different from the Shareplace. Every citizen who behaves properly is entitled to 'food and shelter' by law. That means you can stay in special housing centers or with host families who are requisitioned for that purpose nightly. You've probably heard that in our world, everything is traded with thalers. That's true, but only if you want things beyond the basics provided. If you want special clothes beyond those issued by the housing centers, you'll need to contribute to the community. But you can also choose to do nothing. In the Human Society, with its vast population, you can live like in a Shareplace — doing nothing but walking in nature and chatting with the LE every day."

Ada remained skeptical. Solstice pulled a shiny metal coin from her pocket.

"Thalers are digital, but here's a one-thaler coin. Do you want it?"

Ada eyed the coin but didn't take it. She thought Solstice might be an agent of Wau. Sol placed the coin on the table corner, where it remained untouched—though Ada often inspected it closely, like a numismatist.

The Room was quite large. The bed was soft and comfortable, and every day a flying drone entered through a small opening to make it. However, Ada had already made the bed herself, so the drone would simply tuck the edges and wish her a good day.

There was a screen broadcasting various shows, and Ada started watching the youth programs—first with a mix of curiosity and defiance, then as "training to resist the HS." But eventually, she had to admit she enjoyed them. She eagerly wanted to know what would happen next in the fictional adventures. In her mind, Gorykiln, the cunning hero of the League of Antioch, coexisted perfectly with another version of Wau: sleek, handsome — perhaps even female — venturing into the farthest reaches of the universe aboard a golden Endymion ship carrying a thousand men, seeking the secrets of the Blind Gods.

Each day, Ada had to learn "little things" about the HS before Solstice arrived after lunch. To her, these lessons were for babies. One day, the lesson was as simple as, "The planets where humans live are very far from each other." The lack of depth made her want to cry. HS children must be stupid, she thought. However, some lessons were true revelations — though they seemed incomplete to her. These were facts HS children learned passively, such as the concept of religion, which was foreign to her.

"Are all HS humans religious?" she asked.

"No," Sol replied. "In most worlds, religion is a personal choice... though, well, if your parents are religious, it's hard to escape it, you understand? Xenos sometimes adopt religions too. Some religions are even predominantly Xeno."

"What's the purpose of religion?"

"To answer our anxieties. To explain the inexplicable. The simple answer is: religion is just there, that's how it is. If someone says something that seems silly to you, but it comes from their religion, you have to respect it."

"What do you mean? That it's true?"

"No, probably not. But it's important to the person who says it."

Later, Ada was allowed to leave her room under the supervision of Solstice and a flying drone. In the corridors, doors locked audibly as they passed, reminding Ada not to attempt an escape. An elevator took them to the open air, onto the roof. There were trees, balls, and a transparent barrier separating them from the void. The beauty of the Calchas waterfalls, clouds drifting in the sky, the nascent stars, the massive gas giant Calchas-4 with its wide rings, and the rainbow sunsets in the mist-filled sky were mesmerizing.

Ada was supposed to play with a ball or swing on her own, but she mostly wandered in circles, lost in thought — working on math problems, recalling her conversations with Solstice, or observing the Xenos and insects, sometimes lying on her stomach.

One rainy day, Solstice and Ada stayed under a shelter, watching the rain fall. Ada asked:

"Raindrops fall randomly. There's a small chance they'll form the shape of Léon" (her Xeno plushie, tied to her waist under her tunic — a humanoid rabbit with large, floppy ears). "I wonder if it will look like Léon because I'm here to see it. Maybe raindrops constantly form Xenos, but I don't know them."

Solstice sighed."And you're only ten years old. There's so much going on in your head. You named it Léon, right? Can I see it?"

Ada untied Léon from her belt and held it out to Solstice, maintaining a calculated distance. Solstice noticed that Léon only had one eye. Ada explained simply:"I fell asleep one night, and the next morning, the other eye was gone."

The rain continued to fall without forming Xenos shapes on the rooftop stones. In the distance, a ship roared into the sky—a Raven. It was Ada's favorite ship because she had seen it in advertisements. In the ads, the ship soared through the stars before transforming into a large black bird. She didn't understand the metaphor and believed these vessels could actually transform.

"I was told I'd leave in three weeks to join a family, the Jespersens. It's been... a very long time since they told me that."

"Is that what you want, Ada? To leave and go to the Jespersens?"

"Yeah..."

"I'm not lying to you, Ada."

"Alright, then where are my family members? I don't mean the Jespersens. I mean my brothers and sisters from the Shareplace."

"They're with their foster families. Some have been there for months. Ada, you're the last one here."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

"Ada... among your friends, there were some very smart kids. Not as smart as you, but smart. And there were others who weren't so bright. Some hated the HS, while others thought the world was a pretty great place, whether they were from the League or the Society. But you, Ada... you've got the mind of a genius, and you don't let go of anything. Even you don't realize the little tiger inside you. A tiger is a beautiful creature, but wild." (She closed her hand like a paw.) You know, you fell asleep with Léon, who you love dearly, and woke up one morning holding his eye. What do you think about that?"

"I'm sorry, Sol," Ada said, tears welling up.

"It's okay," Sol said, hugging her.

"Sol, it's not great here, but I don't want to go to the Jespersens. You're fine. I could find a job and be useful here."

For the first time in months, Ada expressed a desire to build her life here.

"Interesting. What would you do?"

"Math."

"Not very ambitious."

"Why?"

"Well, you're super smart; you could do anything. These days, AIs solve theorems, decide which theorems to prove next, and store the results like cataloged insects. Mathematicians just organize the findings. Wouldn't you rather be an Endymion pilot? Like in The Crew of Captain Wau? I'd love that."

"I read there are problems AIs can't solve."

"You're funny. You're clever, but no human is smarter than an AI. When there's a problem too big for an AI, we ask a Transient."

"What's that? I thought they were Xenos?"

"No, they're gods."

"Like the ones in religions?"

"There's a difference, but don't tell anyone. Transients actually exist."

That night, in her bed, Ada searched the LE for information on Transient mathematicians.

She found references to a "Human-Transient Curiosity Pact," which stipulated that for a series of historic or whimsical problems—like P vs. NP, Collatz, Goldbach, theory unification, periodic number territories, and others like Veritatis modalities—Transients would not reveal solutions to the "great mysteries of mathematics," allowing humanity the glory of reaching these summits independently.

It's unclear if Ada finished reading the full account; she fell asleep with the EV still speaking softly under the gentle rhythm of rain against her window.

THE QUESTION OF THE DAY BY INGO IZAN

Today's question is a matter of tact. We're talking about names. How many names do we have? What does it mean? To answer this question, I welcome Evalds—just Evalds—protocol officer for the HS Council on Origin.

At birth, whether by our parents or otherwise, we're given a name—Evalds, in my case. Some of us also have an additional name, like you, Ingo Izan—two names. This tradition dates back to before 2200, before the advent of the LEsphere, when most humans had a first name and a surname. The first name was supposed to, though not always, be used by close family or friends. Today, this practice is largely cosmetic, as most of the time, the only name that truly matters is the one we choose at 12 years old, during our transition to digital autonomy, and which will stay with us until the After. It's the only name that counts—the one we choose. And that's ultimately a good message, even though statistics show that just over 50% of people choose their birth name as their digital name, and that 30% of those who don't end up changing their digital name back to their birth name later.

So my parents were nostalgic for that bygone era when people had both a first name and a surname?

Not exactly. Today, having both a first name and a surname is more common among individuals from Earth or the upper echelons of Prospero. It's not typically a sign of poverty or lower socio-cultural background. Rather, it's just another way to display one's heritage.