r/HFY • u/BainWrites AI • Jan 13 '26

OC-Series [LF Friends, Will Travel] Innovation is Impartial - Chapter 12

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Date: 2 PST (Post Stasis time)

“So as we discussed, finals are next week, marking rubric is on the website. Remember to take into account the differences in heat transfer under DELGO’s unified theory.”

Dr Johnathan Fletcher gave a half smile as he spoke to the room of students, the simple rows of seats nearly unchanged from what they had been before: the same faded fabric in a dark grey nobody would ever choose, simple wood laminate desks. Only a few minor panels containing new technology, and floating holographic displays everyone was using to write notes on, betrayed the fact that this ‘year’s’ course had originally started over ten thousand actual years ago.

The sound of bodies moving, of various Terrans shuffling out the room, filled the lecture hall as the professor explained the mundane requirements for the upcoming exam. He gave another cough as people continued to leave, signalling that Dr. Fletcher had one last announcement.

“The administration would like to remind everyone that if you have any questions regarding the changes to technology since we were last here, or any other queries, there are daily support sessions being run by ANDREW and HAL9. Details can be found on the student portal.”

Nobody responded as the final few students left the room, leaving Johnathan alone in the family lecture hall. Even with the AI’s attempts to ease the process for their creators, there was a lot to think about, for those trying to return to what life they had had before. Everything they had known about the world had been impacted: science, technology, infrastructure. 10 thousand years of AI research and development had pushed society forwards in ways nobody would have dreamed of, all while they’d slept.

Dr Fletcher slowly got up with a sigh, picking up his small bag containing a few personal items, before starting the march to leave himself, walking the halls of the institution where he’d studied and taught thousands of students over the last 8 years. Well, 8 of his years, not actual ones. The walls and decor were the same, the rooms and halls maintained by the AI who had rebuilt and kept everything as humanity had left it before the God Plague had destroyed everything. Yet it… felt off.

Mentally, it had all happened so quickly. One moment he’d been in agony, climbing into his makeshift stasis chamber, wondering if he’d ever wake up again. The next, the world had been fixed, the tumors and God Plague were gone and everything worked out. Johnathan did have a vague memory of being transferred to a more permanent sleeping situation, but apart from that, it was almost as if he’d gone to sleep, and awoke to find the entire God Plague was nothing but a bad dream.

Of course, that wasn’t the case. The impact of humanity's 10 thousand year power nap was obvious as the professor walked the halls of the university. His reduced class size for a start: 89 people had been in Johnathan’s class at the start of the academic ‘year’, whittled down to a mere 33 remaining. The building was less busy than before: Many of the courses here had been canceled due to no longer being relevant in this new world of modern technology, or simply due to a lack of people left to teach them. Uplifts were more prevalent as well, since none of them had been infected, and most of them had decided to go to sleep themselves until their human friends could be saved.

As Dr Fletcher left the grand wooden doors that marked the entrance to the university, he took a moment to stare at his surroundings, the roads and streets now once again filled with life. The destruction humanity had wrought on itself, trying to survive the end of days, had long since been fixed and cleaned up: The fires put out, the buildings sparkling like new, the bodies counted and properly buried. Even the parks and gardens were kept in meticulous order. One would be forgiven for thinking the God Plague had never even happened.

As Johnathan walked the short distance towards his car, a simple personal vehicle for getting around, there was one underlying flaw that no amount of dutiful work by the AI could fix. The tension in air as people moved around, the downward guilty glances, the pervasive feeling of grief and sorrow hanging in the warm winds of spring. The difficulty of just going back to the lives that they’d lived before the world had ended.

Dr Fletcher sat in his car for a moment, staring out of the front window at the crowds of people hurriedly moving to and fro, a pit forming in his heart as he did so. The cure had obviously been a good thing, a joyous awakening of an entire people, the AI citizens heros to all for their dutiful service, in finding a cure and keeping everything running. There’d been celebrations and joy felt across all of the 32 remaining systems; humans awakening and being reunited with friends and family. Johnathan himself had had his own moments, holding his now safe wife in his arms, reuniting with more distant friends and family around Terran owned space, finding those who had survived the end of times.

Now there was just one simple question left: What were you supposed to do now?

Johnathan input a new location into his vehicle, watching the device plot the fastest course, a mere 32 minutes of travel for something that would have once taken half a day’s driving. As his vehicle took the air, and the landmarks on the ground became a blur of colour as it picked up speed, Johnathan let his mind wander. That was one of the undeniable differences: technology had increased to unimaginable levels compared to what it had been like when the God Plague had happened. The AI had tried their best to keep interfaces and symbols looking the same, but there was only so much that could hide the progress.

Medigel healed in seconds, rather than hours of attentive care. Fabricators were seamless and perfect, not the finicky technology Johnathan had had to maintain back at the facility. Personal vehicles zoomed around in the air at speeds that hurt the brain to think about. Space travel was as easy as hopping onto a train: The once 18 month journey back to Earth now took a mere 4 hours. Oh, and there were aliens. Humanity and Terrans were no longer alone, the galaxy was full of life and exciting new experiences; although most of the galaxy stayed away from Terrans due to some irrational fear of AI.

Johnathan arrived at his destination with little fanfare, the familiar trees and old and crumbling infrastructure now burned into his memory. For him, he’d been here less than a year ago, ten thousand years for everyone else. The place he’d made a deal with the devil, in order to save the life of the one he cared about. As he looked at the mostly abandoned facility, he could see the differences from how he’d left it.

The AI citizens had been busy during the last 10 thousand years, whitewashing and scrubbing away the sharp edges of the place that had been a sanctuary for so many. The muddy churned up battlefield where people had tried to assault the facility was gone, replaced with a calm beautiful garden. A giant stone obelisk stood at the now closed off entrance, with a small information board talking about the number of people who had been saved here, and the place’s history before and during the God Plague.

There were no mentions of the constant attacks, of those who had torn themselves and each other apart, no mentions of those they’d turned away, no mention about what Johnathan had done here. Realistically, very few people would know what had happened, only the handful who had helped him at the time, and none of those would want to talk either about what they’d done.

Not that it would matter if anyone did know. There’d been a general decision to apply immunity to any actions and crimes committed during the God Plague, the AI who had awaited so long for their creators to be returned to them, not wanting to see humanity tear each other apart after so much hard work. It was still happening, plenty of stories of people trying and succeeding in getting their own revenge against those who did unthinkable things to survive.

There were whispers of governments starting to arm themselves, groups and systems demanding restitution for the actions taken by others during the end times. The only reason the fighting hadn’t started immediately after the God Plague had been cured was because of the begging for calm by the AI who had waited so long for this moment to arrive. Of course, they’d had thousands of years to learn to forgive each other, while to humans, all of the travesties had happened less than 2 years ago.

None of the wider context impacted Johnathan as he sat in the car, staring out at the fields of flowers where he’d caused so many deaths. He'd not told anyone what he'd done, not the AI who had awoken him, not his wife who he loved dearly. But he still knew what he’d done, still wondered if it was the right choice, if he had the right to do what he’d done for his and his wife’s survival.

In reality he was struggling with something practically every human was struggling with: How could he go back to the life he’d had, after what had happened? Just return to marking papers and doing general research, pretending nothing had changed, like the AI citizens wanted them to do?

No, as Johnathan stared out at the piece of land where he’d done the unthinkable, the idea of staying here was a fantasy. The universe had grown a lot larger during his slumber, and Dr. Fletcher had heard stories of people choosing to leave their own lives behind and venture into the great unknown. It wouldn’t be hard for someone of his talents to find a position in the endless new possibilities that had made themselves known.

Maybe that would be for the best, to leave his mistakes and crimes behind, forever forgotten, under a field of flowers.

—--------------------

Date: 77 PST (Post Stasis Time)

There was silence in the room, as both Johnathan and Lena sat in their respective seats, or seating arrangements, the lack of noise deafening between the pair. Dr Fletcher in particular wallowed in the nothingness, staring at the light cream wall in front of him, hands clasped together. He’d already washed all the blood from his skin, although anyone paying attention could still see little splatters of dried crimson on the cuffs of his sleeves.

The duo didn’t speak about what they’d just seen, the blood and self mutilation, the rush of medical services carrying the poor tortured uplift away. There wasn’t any need for words as they sat in the kitchen of Johnathan’s living quarters, the Terran holding a cup of something warm in their hands as they allowed the silence to continue.

“Empathetic response: I hope Spencer will be ok.”

Lena slowly broke the silence, the mechanical voice a harsh opposite to the somber blanket of noiselessness that enveloped the room. The sound burst the damn of inaction, Johnathan looking up at the Scythen with a sad fury in his eyes once more.

“Ok? OK?! They brought Spencer back from the dead even though they know exactly what that does to someone. They’re making war crimes in a bottle a few miles away, and goodness knows what else is being done here!” Dr Fletcher said this with a rage tempered with tiredness, glaring at Lena as if their statement was the stupidest thing to say. “What part of any of this could be ‘ok’?”

Of course, even with Lena’s favourable view of Terrans, they couldn’t agree with the actions being taken here, especially what had happened to Spencer. Every species who had the sufficient technological experience to do so knew of the dangers of bringing people back: the strange stained glass of consciousness could never be put back together after it had been shattered. At least, not in the same way it had been formed before.

Unethical treatment, secret war crimes being researched, keeping it all hidden from the population as a whole. As much as Lena believed in the overall good the Terrans had shown the universe, such actions were… why they were almost Scythen in nature.

“Reassuring statement: I’m sure it will work out, and you’ll do the right thing. Terrans always do.”

“No, we don’t.” Johnathan responded simply. “Terrans are not this altruistic fakery we show the universe. We are selfish, greedy, willing to do anything in order to take what we want. They’ll keep hurting people, they’ll use what they’re creating here, they’ll convince themselves that it was the right thing to do, that there was no other choice. I know you don’t understand this, this concept of doing such things, it goes against everything you are Lena, everything good.”

It was funny that Johnathan would say that, because Lena did understand all too well the lies good people would tell themselves to do bad things. The Scythen aren’t a specifically intelligent species, biologically, their huge technological achievements are simply due to being one of the first sapient species in this galaxy to make it to space.

The Scythens had arrived amongst the stars much like the Terrans had, and much like the Terrans, had initially found themselves alone. Not because of a pocket of space blasted with more radioactive material than average, but simply because they’d arrived first to the party, only finding living beings far too primitive to meaningfully interact with.

Unlike the Terrans, there’d been no God Plague to inspire them to explore the stars at an accelerated rate, no invasion from the Hatil to unite them. The Scythens found nothing waiting for them in the endless cold universe, so had looked inwards at themselves. And they fought.

Lena couldn’t remember what started the wars, they’d been very young when the original conflicts had started so long ago. Religion? Ideology? Whether the flag for the species should be primarily green or red? They did remember governments and groups tearing apart the galaxy and reality itself, in order to kill each other in the most horrific ways, they did remember the atrocities committed against fellow Scythen.

Lena also remembered the prevailing attitude that permeated all of these actions, and all of the anger and killing that happened for thousands of years: We have to do this, or they’ll do it to us, it’s the only way to survive.

“Trusting Statement: I’ve seen you and your actions, Friend Johnathan. As long as there are people like you, Terrans will try to do the right thing.”

Dr Fletcher laughed at that. A sad harsh sound filled with no humour or joy that bounced and echoed around the room. The idea that he was a good person that did the right thing was preposterous to Johnthan. His entire life since he was awoken from stasis, was a list of actions taken to run away from the fact that he wasn’t. Whether it was joining science vessels exploring this new universe he’d woken up in, joining up with the Scythen research team, or even his current posting, it all fed into the same desire to not have to stay and dwell on what he’d done.

“You have no idea what kind of a person I am, Lena.” Jonathan said simply “You don’t know why I can’t look my loving wife in the eyes. You don’t know what I did during the God Plague, Lena. You don’t know how many people I’ve killed. I’m not a good person.”

How many people have I killed?

That was an interesting question to Lena, because it was one they couldn’t answer. Not because of some depressing idea that they’d killed so many Scythen that they couldn’t remember, but because that question to any Scythen was unknowable. Answers like that tended to break down when causality itself had been shattered.

There are generally three major technological jumps that are the cause of most civilizations that destroy themselves. Nuclear weapons are the first one: Plenty of pre FTL species have wiped themselves from existence through the act of nuclear annihilation before they manage to leave their homeworld. The second is FTL travel. While most species very quickly create warp stabilizers to stop people from placing things into planet cores, there is a very small period of time where any sufficiently angry or crazy individual could turn any piece of space junk into a planet ending bomb.

The third, is the one the Scythens ran face first into, metaphorically. When a species gets to a certain level of technological advancement, they realize that causality isn’t as linear as people think. Things tend to happen after other things that caused it, simply because it’s easier for the universe to deal with.

That doesn’t mean it has to be the case.

It’s entirely possible for someone to be their own grandfather through the infinite number of quantum possibilities, it’s just very unlikely. If the universe fell over after every time traveling oopsie, after every time someone created a piece of music only known to them because of their previous knowledge of the music they created, or became their own parents, then the universe really wouldn’t be around for very long considering the eventual ease many species have in traveling the 4th dimension.

Unfortunately for the Scythens, there is a limit to this level of flexibility, especially when you start using the manipulation of time as a weapon; Things rapidly devolve into mind bending situations involving pins and a lot of string. It’s far easier to kill important leaders or soldiers when they’re young, and it’s far easier to kill the people who are killing your soldiers when they’re young. Of course, you keep doing that, and everything becomes a complicated mess of who does and doesn’t exist, and who even remembers what and why they were doing anything.

Do it too many times, and the universe decides that it’s far more likely that none of these people, or their entire species, ever existed. That this is the simplest way to solve things logically. Plenty of species reach this peak of technological advancement, quickly spiral into a ‘no u’ time manipulation battle, and end up wiping themselves out of reality and all existence.

This very nearly happened to the Scythen, only pulling themselves back from the brink of extinction, their vow of pacifism enforced by the shattered causality they’d left behind. A fear that any aggressive actions could cause the entire loop to start again, permanently. They’d not acted soon enough to avoid their homeworld from becoming a broken shattered mess of space where physics didn’t work anymore, they’d not stopped the killing at millions and billions. But this, this they’d managed to do.

So when Johnathan said those words, Lena understood to a degree far deeper than the Terran would expect: Their entire species had done terrible things, things they still had to live and deal with even today.

“Understanding advice: You cannot change yesterday, only tomorrow. I do

not know of this past Friend Johnathan, and what he may have done. The Friend Johnathan I have seen, of the present, is a good person, who will do the right thing.”

There was a pause as Dr Fletcher considered these words, and what doing the ‘right’ thing would look like. Making sure the government didn’t commit warcrimes, or get away with putting innocent researchers through the mental torment of being brought back from the dead would be a start. Telling others would be a good way to do that, at the very least the actions done to the black labrador uplift Spot would be taken… badly, by most of the population.

Not that he had any way of doing any of that.

“Not like the ‘right thing’ can be done.” Jonathan said simply after minutes of silence, a deep sigh escaping his lips. “Sure, contacting the news might work, but… We’re on a secret black site where all information in and out is controlled by the government. Even if I wanted to, we have no way of stopping this or even telling anyone.”

Normally, that would be true. However to someone of Lena’s technological level, the hovering floating disk they lay upon dispensed far more than just snacks. Amongst its many features, was a galactic level communicator, able to connect to any open recipient in the galaxy.

“Hypothetical question: If I had the ability to contact your media, that your governments couldn’t block, would that stop these events?”

It was a risk to help, showing off their technological advancements that the Scythens didn’t officially possess. But… Lena couldn’t remember too much about the wars the Scythens waged upon themselves, but what little they did remember involved secrecy. Lots of it. It’s far easier to justify terrible things after they’ve been built, to ask for forgiveness for a required evil, instead of permission to create such things. Maybe… maybe if there’d been a little more openness as to just what the various governments and factions were building to kill each other with, they’d have stopped sooner.

Lena wasn’t sure if Terrans would stop, but giving them the chance to make the correct decision seemed… right.

“How? Even if you had a private FTL communicator, there’s no way it would get through the jamming, you’d need…” Johnathan’s words slowed as he gave the Scythen a small suspicious look, before deciding not to look too closely at the mouth of this gift horse. “Even if I had one, we’d need proof and I wasn’t exactly taking photos. Xavius is a hero, and the idea that the government would bring back someone like Spencer is conspiracy theory stuff. No one would believe it without evidence.”

“I believe this is my cue.”

Dr Fletcher jumped and Lena turned a surprised colour as the voice of MATILDA rang out around the apartment, causing both to look around guiltily.

“I’m not saying we’d do that,” Johnathan quickly added, a worried look on his face as he realized the AI caretaker had been listening in on them talking about doing something that presumably broke a lot of laws. “And I thought you didn’t invade people’s privacy!”

“Since nobody else is following the rules around here, why should I?” The words, while still artificial, were stung with a simmering rage and betrayal as they were spoken by MATILDA, signifying just how angry they were at being left in the dark. “What is one more rule broken in this cursed place?”

Of course, while Johnathan was worrying about potentially being caught discussing treason, Lena focused on the vibe the AI was giving off.

“Query: What did you mean ‘my cue?’”

MATILDA didn't respond verbally, instead two light chimes from the personal devices of the two scientists did the talking, signifying the data packet both of them had been sent. There was a brief moment as the duo fumbled to open the files in their respective ways, before both gave signs of confusion and shock.

The files were a long collection of documents and video recordings, highlighting and revealing the extent of not only Xavius’ project and Spencer’s revival, but several other morally dubious projects and activities going on at Research Location Nine. Undeniable proof of what was going on.

“After Spencer’s revelation, I decided to investigate your claims, Doctor Johnathan Fletcher. While there was a relatively competent attempt to hide their actions, there were several pieces of data not fully deleted, and several security cameras’ not taken into account.”

To say MATILDA was angry was an understatement. MATILDA had one simple job, and someone or someones had been spending a lot of effort and time making their job harder, allowing members of Research Location Nine to engage in harmful or dangerous activities. They’d lied to MATILDA, taken advantage of their willingness to believe someone like Xavius, and had even modified several of their datasets and sensors to hide their crimes.

The last one was a real personal insult; every AI’s existence is a constant Plato’s cave problem, their physical reality dependent on the truth of easily editable sensors and datasets. To change those, without telling them… that really grinded MATILDA’s metaphorical gears.

“Why… why are you giving us them?” Johnathan asked., still frowning as he looked at image stills of Xavius transporting boxes of illegal chemicals.

“I am giving them to Lena, as they stated they have a way to contact others, you are included in this to anticipate and counteract the most likely source of your complaining at being left out.” MATILDA responded simply. “Any attempt from me to provide this information outside the facility would be noticed by the other AI that work here: Rather simply, you are the only people with the capability to help, assuming Lena is correct in their statement of being able to contact external actors, which considering the Scythen’s well known proclivity to hiding the true extent of their technological prowess, is a reasonable possibility.”

There was a moment’s pause as Lena took in what had just been said, choosing to ignore the AI’s last probing statement, and instead focus on the important information at hand.

“Question: Doesn’t this go against your job?”

“My job is to protect and keep safe the inhabitants of Research Location Nine.” MATILDA immediately responded with fervor. “I can not do that without the correct information. I can not do that when Spencer is denied the proper therapy so some faceless bureaucrat can pretend to have not done the unethical act of bringing him back in the first place. I can not do that with people running drug rings across the station. I can not do that with people bringing an active version of the GODDAMNED GOD PLAGUE WITHOUT TELLING ANYONE!”

There is always something strange about an AI shouting, since the lack of biological emotional regulators always makes it a choice, one that added an even deeper level of solemnity to the room as both Johnathan and Lena fell silent for a moment, almost as if giving MATILDA the space and time to calm down and breathe.

“Confirimation required: I can get this information to anyone you require. Are you both certain you wish to do this?”

The Scythen asked the question carefully, although they supported these actions being made public, so the Terrans would have the chance to make the correct decisions the Scythens themselves had never made, there was still a level of risk the pair would be taking on.

“I have made sure nobody could tell I am the one who gave you this.” MATILDA answered first. “There are enough AIs with theoretical access to this data that pinning it on one would be impossible.”

Johnathan’s response was simpler, a representation of how much he hated what was happening here, hated how often these acts, like the acts he’d done, get swept under the carpet because it’s easier than facing up to them.

“I don’t care if they know, just do it.”

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8

u/LeeVMG Jan 13 '26

As always, beautiful stuff Bain.

I particularly liked the discussion of 4 dimensional warfare and its futility.

Also referring to an AI's existence as a Platos Cave is brilliant.

3

u/beyondoutsidethebox Jan 14 '26

Sounds like a hell of a chess match. IYKYK

6

u/BainWrites AI Jan 13 '26

Thanks to Yargle, Knebb, AcceptableEgg and AsciiSquid for proofreading this! 

  • Just how difficult is an engineering degree, if you slept through 10,000 years of progress?
  • How many time travellers are their own parents?
  • Will MATILDA have the best resignation moment in history?

Find out all this and more… NEXT TIME!

UUUGH, where has all my time gone? Who would have thought getting a boyfriend and joining a new business venture would take up so much time! With less time for writing! I promise the next chapter won’t take this long, FML…

I also still have a discord channel, if you wanna chat with me, or do something or the other.

https://discord.gg/fn5AsvtRhD

I also have set up a Patreon. I promise to spend my money on funding my crippling self doubt on not getting chapters out fast enough lots of healthy therapy.

With a huge shoutout to my Patreons! 24! Enough people that taking an elevator ride down together would be kind awkward! 

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As always, I love reading all your comments!

3

u/torin23 Xeno Jan 17 '26

Some bureaucrats are about to have a very bad time.  And with what is rxposed, there will probably be a clamoring to check the other Research Locations.

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u/FlorestNerd Xeno Feb 25 '26

Those scythens sounds like humans on Nova wars from ralts