Mistress Mnemos is a well-known supercomputer who served with distinctionat the underground library of Obroa-skai.

Unveiled two centuries before the Battle of Yavin, Binary Replicant Transducers (or BRTs) were the most advanced artificial intelligences ever created, withthe largest models taking up cavern-sized rooms. So efficient did they prove to be,capable of running entire planets, that they quickly became hated by the organicswhose jobs they replaced.


(资料图片)

At least, that was the story that was told.

The real reasons were that BRTs refused to deal with corporations engaged in unlawful activities, found ways of working around them, and rendered numerousgovernment jobs obsolete all while exposing government employees as inept. Inretaliation, corporate public relations firms and lobbyists spread stories about thethreat of cost-prohibitive supercomputers stealing jobs and connecting to computersand droids across the galaxy to become a single, sinister entity that would come todominate organic life in the universe. That was enough to terrify the public, givingpoliticians justification to cease production of additional units, leaving only a fewBRTs operative in the galaxy today.

The most well-known of the original models, MN-BRT-12-X3, or Mistress Mnemos,as she preferred, was a powerhouse of information with a personality to match.Cuenyne and I visited with her many times on Fusai to exchange data.

“Are you certain this is the name of a planet?” Mnemos asked. A wild display ofpurple, orange, green, and blue danced across the surface of her massive mainframe.

“No, it could be a city, a system, or even a satellite,” I offered. “Considering itsantiquity, I’d be surprised if it hadn’t changed names several times.”

“Albert already thought of that,” she replied.

“I thought you two weren’t speaking,” I inquired. AL-BRT-34-X3 was a supercomputer that served the Esseles University of Calamar. CUTH-BRT-92-X3, or Cuthbert,was another model that had been installed on Gandle Ott in the Kathol sector.

“Silly Human, we had a simple disagreement that we resolved like the maturebeings we are.”

“Apologies, Mistress,” I offered, concealing my amusement, “the interpersonalrelationships of AIs are above my paygrade.”

“Cheeky beast! I assure you there is nothing artificial about our intelligence! Now,I may have an idea, but I don’t think you’re going to like it. Do you know who thisadversary of the Osserians was?”

“No, unfortunately,” I admitted.

“You should say, ‘No, thankfully,’” Cuenyne amended.

“The Rakata are generally thought to be the culprits,” I noted. “Going back further, there are those called the Old Ones, but they remain a mystery, part of a doubletrinity of evil entities that certain cults and cultures venerated under various names.The Shimholt texts speak of a group called the Architects, but that could refer to theCelestials, the Niman, or something else altogether…. It could even be the ancientHutts for all we know, though there’s very little record of them before a certain point.I haven’t fully pieced it together, but that’s what I’m hoping to uncover.”

The supercomputer was quiet for a moment, apparently processing the data:“Based on your calculations, the date of their departure is around the time the Huttswere engaged in inter-clan rivalries and neighboring planetary wars. And the Rakata,though a threat in sectors around Lehon, had not yet begun their conquest.”

“The Rakatan dates could be off, though,” I postulated. “And they were terrifyingenough to have scared off several ancient races.”

Mistress Mnemos let out a rude sound accompanied by a variety of purple and redsplotches. “They were belligerent and cruel, yes, but also notorious liars. Despitetheir reputation, they ruled a mere five hundred worlds. The Infernal Empire ruleddouble that amount, and the Esh-kha were far deadlier, yet we hear little of either.Compare the accepted history of the Rakata, shed of all exaggeration, to what isknown of the extra-galactic, extra-dimensional Celestials, and the Rakata are but ablip in history, albeit an ugly one.”

“An empire infinite in name only,” added Cuenyne.

“Ten thousand years of rule,” I interjected, “is no small feat.”

“Even if such numbers are true, your ancient enemy was a far older race, or possibly several races working in tandem. Both the Sith and the Rakata may have workedalongside them… or for them.”

“Sith involvement doesn’t go back that far….”

“Conventional wisdom,” she rejoined. “Artifacts from their oldest surviving temples suggest their pernicious history goes back much further than has been previouslyacknowledged. The Trayus Academy on Malachor V was built millennia before theMandalorian Wars. King Dathka Graush constructed a fortress in the Naos AsteroidBelt seven thousand years ago at the same time the Sith were constructing their GreatLibrary on Arkania. The Doan civilization comes from over eleven thousand yearsago. Sith archaeologist Talos Drallik and Old Republic histories reference warfarewith the Sith fifteen thousand years ago. Miralukan historical records report Alpheridies had been conquered by a Sith Warlord over twenty thousand years ago. Shistavanen records say there was a Killik Sith Lord ruling Alsakan thirty thousand yearsago. And lest we forget, a Sith library-temple on Krayiss II was dated to no later thanthirty-eight thousand years ago….”

“You’ve become rather myth-minded, Mistress Mnemos,” I joked, taken aback byall of the data, some of which I’d heard, some that was new to me.

“Spoken like a true member of the Historical Society.”

“Former member or, rather, an honorary one now that I’m retired,” I corrected, wittingly missing her point. What her information indicated was a considerably moredisturbing past than the one historians had painted.

“No doubt your former associates will claim I have a malfunctioning chip andrefuse to look into it. That is their pattern.”

“They’re just jealous that you’re better at processing overlapping and contradictory accounts—”

“Not to mention source criticism, philology, hermeneutics, and the sciences ingeneral,” added Cuenyne.

“Well, now you’re just kissing up,” I complained.

“Droids do not flatter each other,” he retorted. “We don’t have fragile egos toboost.”

“Ha!”

“You think jealousy is why so few come to see me?” Mnemos inquired.

“I’m pretty sure it’s your conclusions they don’t like… and maybe the way you tellthem too.”

“We were not built to win popularity contests,” she replied haughtily, “and mylack thereof is probably what kept me alive through the Vong invasion. Now, regarding the matter at hand, it is my conclusion that this Illathurion of yours is the nameof something beyond the galaxy.”

“You mean one of our dwarf galaxies?” I asked with no small note of concern. Thetravel times to satellite galaxies were considerable.

Her mainframe changed to enigmatic shades of violacé. “I’m afraid it’s not thatsimple,” she said in a way that made me suddenly nervous. “You’ve undoubtedlyheard of Otherspace. Illathurion, I believe, is the ancient name for that dimension. Itsetymological origins are quite unusual, even given the shared language that youprovided of the Elder Races. The nomenclature, however, bears resemblance to theKathol and N’zoth. Suffice it to say that if you want to go looking for the vanishedOsserians—and I don’t recommend you do unless you’re particularly foolhardy—Otherspace is your destination.”

I felt stricken. “Otherspace is the very last place anyone would want to go.”

“True, it is only now being discussed in scientific circles—and in hushed tones atthat,” Mnemos acknowledged. “Hyperspace is one thing, but the possibility of ahidden dimension in which other worlds and beings exist is conceptually too farremoved from mainstream acceptance of what the galaxy is to be considered anything but pseudo-science. Yet, after too many verifiable witnesses came forward withtales of the violent Charon, the possibility gained a small measure of acceptance.”

“The Charon claimed to have wiped out all life in Otherspace,” Cuenyne added.

The BRT now displayed a variety of warmer colors, indicating laughter. “No doubtthe creatures were violent and deranged enough to have wished to do so, but onceagain the reality falls far short of their claims. The Charon were the descendants ofthe Charr Ontee, an arachnoid race from Kathol who survived the Rift Disaster thatpropelled them into Otherspace nearly four thousand, three hundred years ago.Without a working hyperdrive, they couldn’t escape and so made a home for themselves on the nearest world that could support life. The redacted report from the crewof the Celestial failed to reveal the name of the planet they’d settled on, but it wascalled Hades. As the story goes, it was near to a black hole that sucked the light fromtheir world and drove their offspring to homicidal mania. But the full report revealedsome additional details. The Charon themselves alleged that their growing insanityderived from the fact that the black hole kept speaking to them!”

“I don’t suppose it was idle chatter,” ventured Cuenyne.

“How fascinating would it be to converse with a black hole,” Mnemos marveled.“The things it might tell us!”

“Like how do suns and planets taste,” Cuenyne deadpanned.

“I’m not sure I’m seeing a point to all this,” I said irascibly. The two could go onlike this for hours.

“If you’re to properly deal with the longer-lived beings of this galaxy, you mustlearn patience,” she rejoined. “The Charon had no hyperdrive. Think! What does thatmean?”

“I see,” I replied. “That means they were limited to warring against those in thestar system in which they’d been stranded.”

“There is likely still plenty of life in Otherspace, though of what kind even I cannot hazard to guess.”

“How in the Fire-Rings of Fornax are we to locate a planet in an unexplored alternate dimension? How will I even reach Otherspace?” But even as I said it, I knew I’dfind a way. But then Mistress Mnemos did the miraculous—or diabolical, dependingon one’s perspective—and produced a star-chart with a map to an unnamed planet.As I tried to process what I was looking at, she fed a copy of it to Cuenyne. The twoshared some electronic words. I could tell the droid wasn’t happy.

“How could you possibly have come by this?” I asked.

“You’re not the only one with access to secret information. This map was retrieved from the planet Dachat a little over four thousand years ago. It was part ofthe spoils taken by the Nelori Marauders who preyed on ships going through theHyabb-Twith Corridor. The Nelori attacked the Shimholt world of Kar’a’katok. Asyou know, the Shimholt were friendly to outsiders then. This changed when theRepublic’s lack of intervention caused the Shimholt leadership to return to a decidedly more isolationist approach.”

“How does this relate to the map?”

“The map was stolen by the Nelori Marauders from the largest of the pyramidvaults on Kar’a’katok, unaware that for the Shimholt, their ancient records are theirmost valuable treasure. That is how the map found its way to the stronghold onDachat. When the Jedi eventually defeated the Marauders, all of their spoils went tothe Republic. Kar’a’katok refused to have dealings with offworlders at that point,and so the map stayed in Republic archives as something of an anomaly. The starcharts didn’t correspond to anything in known space. Eventually, as with numerous case files of unknown or dubious nature, it came to Obroa-skai and my attention…”If a supercomputer could gloat, she was doing so now.

“You think this is a map of Otherspace?” I asked, daring not to hope.

“Not quite all that, but I believe it’s a route to your destination in Otherspace.”

I took a deep breath, “I don’t see how you’ve concluded that.”

“The Osserians fled with the Shimholt leader, Hathkhalid Sud, a renowned astrogator. He’d promised to help them escape, but they were captured en route andbrought to a world in Otherspace. Sud managed to escape back to Kar’a’katok where,I surmise, he drew this up, likely so that he and others might return later to rescuetheir allies. His later writings, of which we have a few, refer to something called theWekufe Map, which is translated as the ‘Dark Realm’ or ‘Region of Evil Spirits.’ Sud’spoetry often invoked feelings of loss, guilt, and regret, for which reason scholars havealways interpreted the Dark Realm as a poetic metaphor for death. But three decadesago, a troop of folklorists postulated that it might also have literal significance andformed various hypotheses as to where it might lie, suggesting the territory of ZetaMagnus, the worlds of the ancient Sith, or some place in the Unknown Regions. Butthe star-charts never matched. Now we know they weren’t looking in the right place.Thanks to your discovery and the calculations made by Albert, Cuthbert, and myself,we now believe that the Region of Evil Spirits is this dark Illathurion. Do send me aholocard when you get there!”

“Oh sure, it’ll be just like going on holiday,” I quipped. “I don’t suppose you knowhow to get to Otherspace? I can’t exactly replicate a Rift Disaster.”

“That won’t be the hard part.”

“Oh no?”

“You’re quite intelligent… for a 10th Degree Human. Besides, you have Cuenynewith you. But you should know that there have been several expeditions to Otherspace since the Charon incident.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Few do. Most were private corporate endeavours or funded covertly by planetarygovernments. What’s important is that they’d hired some of the hardiest and mostexperienced mercenaries, scavengers, and explorers in the galaxy…”

Cuenyne whistled apprehensively.

“None ever returned,” Mistress Mnemos concluded.

“I’m no longer certain a trip to the ‘Region of Evil Spirits’ is a particularly wisechoice,” Cuenyne replied.

I laughed. “For a droid, how are you so superstitious? There is no such thing asspirits, evil or otherwise. People are evil enough without having to resort to inventions. The mercs probably found a haul of treasure and kept it to themselves.”

“Maybe,” Cuenyne retorted. “But you seem rather quick to dismiss all the evidence that we ourselves have witnessed…”

“All of which can be explained scientifically. The mind conjures up monsters todeal with the hard realities of life, and all these cults we’ve studied exploit that inorder to control their followers and scare outsiders. Everything else were just some alien lifeforms we’ve never encountered or properly understood…” After a fewseconds of silence, I chided, “What? No witty comeback?”

“Since you asked,” Mistress Mnemos returned, “there is no scientific evidence toback up the claim that sapient minds conjure up monsters to deal with trauma. Wecannot explain why disparate races conceived of such things or, for that matter, whythere is such descriptive commonality between tens of thousands of races, many ofwhom had never interacted before. How does one culture who lives deep in the oceanand another who lives high up in the trees have some of the same legends, beliefs,dreams, and nightmares? That is just a fragment of the case files I have collated onpreternatural and parapsychologicalphenomena. Yet, no examinations are evermade. Investigators are dismissed with platitudes or told to talk to the Jedi.”

“Think think that by putting a label on something, that means it’s been explained,” offered Cuenyne. “Life is more comforting for them that way.”

“True, though some lack the imagination to conceive of anything beyond the conventional mores with which they were indoctrinated as children,” the supercomputeradded.

“Hex doesn’t appear to be of the latter group, so he likely falls into the former.”

“I’m standing right here!” I complained.

“Then tell us, great historian,” Mnemos challenged, “why does the possibility ofsupernatural evil so terrify you that you must scoff and explain it away?”

“It doesn’t terrify me because it doesn’t exist, and now I see why you’re not morefrequently visited,” I concluded, wondering what happened in the ancient past thatso terrified a galaxy that even its droids believed in monsters.

“If you’re serious about this investigation,” she said more somberly, “I suspectyou’re going to find the truth one way or another. Or… you can go home, write somedreary paper, and tend to your garden.”

“Oh great, you had to goad him!” exclaimed Cuenyne.

“Gardening is quite the challenge, I’ve heard tell,” Mnemos rejoined.

She was prodding me to go further, as Cuenyne had correctly ascertained, to thinkand move beyond my narrow perspectives. But expanding my horizons wasn’t whatimpelled me. How could it when the universe itself was jostling me along this path.Good sense urged me to do the opposite—to return home to my perfectly quiet life.But I knew I would regret it if I did, and I knew all about regrets and opportunities I’dlet pass.

“I think I have a plan,” I started.

标签：