We weren’t even testing for that

[synchrosyntheses]

Among the information she has archived or cached, there are obscure theories about inter-universal interactions. Not how they might happen, much less how any intelligence might begin one, or target it meaningfully.

But they give some constraints on the properties of such connections, and their time evolution.

This highly speculative information is available to her, but even were she fast enough to access it, none of it would be particularly useful when a pinpoint of not here blinks into existence directly ahead and expands spherically to swallow her.

Comments

[synchrosyntheses]

The echo proves to be the rest of Teytis, coming into sight along the catwalk.

“I can certainly fly you, but maybe it would be even better to fix your track so you can go on your own.”

She examines the plant-attacked section for what might be wrong with it besides being obstructed by overenthusiastic plants.

[peterxy]

Dented, twisted, and a section of it missing.

[synchrosyntheses]

“This looks easy enough to fix in a few minutes.”

She cuts off all of the small stems that are just growing around the rail and catwalk, while covering the rail ends and the local section of catwalk with a layer of — something transparent, that flows liquidly out of one of the many containers (apparently) that are accompanying her on the catwalk.

[peterxy]

The sphere watches in fascination.

[synchrosyntheses]

After a minute she takes away all the clear stuff.

The catwalk suddenly splits apart in several places, its parts retracting away from the plant-infested sections. Teytis shoves the large plant stems, that pass through here to parts unknown, away from the rail and underneath the catwalk.

The sphere's track unbends and stretches to fill the gap, slightly thinner in non-critical dimensions.

The catwalk returns to its original state.

[peterxy]

"Thank yooooou!" the sphere says, and starts zooming along its newly repaired track.

[synchrosyntheses]

The probe keeps pace with it.

[peterxy]

It zips along, takes a left in a three-way intersection, then a right in a bifurcation, then goes down in another bifurcation, and then reaches another broken section of the rail. It sways nervously, turns around, and stops, looking at the probe. Its eye widens. "You can fly," it says.

[synchrosyntheses]

“I can fly.”

[peterxy]

"Fly me! Fly me! Fly me!"

[synchrosyntheses]

“Okay.”

Little blobs grab the sphere's handles. Gentle tug?

[peterxy]

It detaches from the rail. "I'm flyyyying!"

[synchrosyntheses]

Flying past the broken track!

[peterxy]

The sphere starts giving her directions. Its post is apparently somewhat deeper and lower than she's been going, but the physical characteristics of the places it drives her through are pretty much always the same: catwalks, rails, platforms, mechanical things, all in various states of disrepair.

Eventually they reach a spot in a wall the rail goes through that only something as small as the sphere itself could pass. "Umm."

[synchrosyntheses]

“Umm?”

[peterxy]

"You can't go through this. It's too small."

[synchrosyntheses]

“That's only a small problem!”

The probe shifts into a slimmer, longer shape.

“Or if you like I can put you back on the rail and you can go by yourself.”

(Sometimes people want you to stop helping and go away and they don't say it.)

[peterxy]

"Oh but what if there's another broken part?"

[synchrosyntheses]

“I'll come along then!”

Slip through neatly. Zoom.

[peterxy]

Zoom! Zoom zoom.

Eventually the sphere slows down and starts looking around as they approach another wall. "It's over there," it confides.

[synchrosyntheses]

“Over where?”

Attention is paid to the wall. Perhaps it is actually a door?

[peterxy]

Nope, it is a wall, with another small hole for the sphere.

The sphere asks her to go slowly and quietly. Behind the wall there are a few glass tanks with a number of other, similar spheres, piles of them. Most of them are inactive, but not all, and some are saying things to nothing and nobody. The sphere doesn't say a word, trying not to be noticed.

[synchrosyntheses]

That's creepy. She's glad she didn't bring her body here.

She'll go along (this probe is built to be disposable after all, and has no need to make a noise) and listen for anything informative.

[peterxy]

It is creepy, isn't it? The spheres are mostly quiet, even the ones who do occasionally quip one thing or another. One of them seems to be fixated on the idea of going to space, though, and another is spewing a lot of facts, about 70% of which are in fact false.

[synchrosyntheses]

Ugh. Broken minds.

Sadly, this is entirely in keeping with how the builders of this place would have gone about AI. “Seeing what sticks.”

Ugh.

This can go on the list of things to do something about if it becomes feasible.