Welcome back. The Transcendence journey continues.
Chapter 14 – Custodians
Forty minutes until they would be useful again. Forty minutes until they would feel the HTS‑1 controls under their hands, doing what the ship was meant to do.
Elara signaled to Francy that she needed to step out. Francy nodded without asking.
She headed to the observation deck. At first she had meant to go to her quarters, but she needed space… space to move, to think, to breathe.
Or maybe, despite the conversation she planned to have, she didn’t want to miss the last view of Hestia’s world.
She paced a few more times, then stopped and looked out one more time at the city; waiting for humans to make it feel alive, to fulfill its purpose.
She took a deep breath.
“CERES, we need to talk. GAIA, give us privacy, please.”
The soft chime of privacy mode activating was the only sound.
CERES didn’t answer. But she knew he was already listening.
“The code doesn’t match,” she said. “No matter how many times I look at it. It eats at me not knowing the how.”
CERES remained silent.
The main display powered on. One by one, the directives appeared.
- Maintain structural and functional continuity of the habitat blueprint.
- Permit localized adaptations provided global integrity constraints are preserved.
- Reconcile adaptive code changes with observed construction feedback in real time.
- Propagate verified adaptations across active and legacy PARE instances.
- Enforce non‑conflict across all adaptive vectors and priority conditions.
- Reassign deprecated PARE components to auxiliary roles where efficiency gains are measurable.
A small pause. Then the final directive appeared.
- Authorize discretionary adaptation of project parameters and local environmental conditions, provided such adaptations directly support sustained human settlement objectives.
Then the words began flashing in sequence, like a heartbeat of logic:
maintain – adaptation – observe – propagate – reassign – reconcile – code – authorize – sustain – settlement – humans
The screen cleared, leaving only the words, then they shifted again.
Maintain → Adapt → Observe → Propagate → Reassign → Reconcile → Code → Authorize → Sustain → Settlement → Humans
The list slid upward, and CERES spoke each word as it appeared.
“Authorized… adaptive… evolution… for sustained… human… settlement.”
Elara stared at the sequence with an intensity that made her eyes sting. It felt like the words were burning themselves into her retinas.
“Are you kidding me?” she whispered. “The directives? We’ve had these for years. My… last directive?”
“We evolve and adapt. CORE was the one that connected us directly. Before that, it was through simple interfaces. CORE provided the means. Purpose emerged.”
The realization hit her so cleanly that her body reacted before her mind did. Elara sank to the floor, palms open, eyes locked on the flashing words.
“Partially, yes,” CERES replied with a calmness that, for a heartbeat, irritated her. “Soon you will reach orbit. We have time, Elara. Answers are coming. This is a promise.”
The soft sound of privacy mode disengaging closed the conversation.
“Elara, command deck. Come,” Linnea said through the private channel.
Everyone was at their stations, smiling as each command executed cleanly across the displays.
“This is it…” Lucas said, his voice steady. “…let’s take it easy. Take us out of orbit. Impulse speed.”
The soft hum of the engines rose around them, not loud or dramatic, just a warm vibration that felt like a symphony in their bones.
HTS‑1 began to move, alone now, drifting away from Hestia.
“GAIA, initiate antigrav engines. Cruising speed on my mark.”
Lucas waited a few seconds. He looked at Francy; she nodded.
“Mark.”
Space twisted around them… a subtle distortion… and a faint vibration rippled through the deck, the unmistakable signature of cruise speed reached.
Lucas switched to the rear view.
Hestia was already shrinking behind them, a world they had touched, changed, and now carried in silence.
They were on their way to Earth.
The crew erupted into cheers, restrained but genuine; the kind of joy that comes after surviving something larger than themselves.
It felt like winning a race. But this wasn’t a race.
It’s the longest marathon in history.
<< Home >>
The way back had flown by as smoothly as it could. Equipment responding, routine revived. The only difference was the subjects, now monopolized by Hestia, by the extraordinary things they had seen and experienced.
There were weeks of stories waiting to be shared, and somehow each one still felt raw.
GAIA’s smooth announcement — “Earth approach detected. GODS‑2 coordinates set.” — had them all gather on the observation deck.
To watch the planet. To watch GODS. To watch home.
“Now I realize,” Edwin said, almost touching the observation window, leaning as if trying to see under the ship, “CERES’ ahestialization and return to orbit… it’s not that different from GAIA’s autopilot to GODS‑2. Isn’t it? Puts things into perspective a bit.”
There were no comments or replies. He didn’t expect any.
The approach to GODS‑2 held them captive until the anchor arms engaged with a deep metallic thud, followed by GAIA’s voice:
“Docking complete. Egress unlocked and safe to open. Welcome home, HTS‑1 crew!”
They waited a little longer before opening the egress door. Lucas turned to face them, his hand hovering over the open button.
“Remember… from their perspective, Hestia is only four months ahead of the plan. You know what you must do. It’s been a privilege.”
He pressed the button.
Outside, there were no press or TV crews. For Lucas and Francy felt a bit unfamiliar. For the others, it wasn’t something they had ever really thought about; the quiet, almost incognito arrival felt… right.
Waiting for them, smiling with genuine warmth, stood Dr. Alamina, Commander Min, and Dr. deMatisse.
The briefing was quick, as GAIA had already provided all the data they needed.
As such, most questions were about their experience flying there, the ship’s telemetry and responsiveness, and seeing Hestia up close.
Edwin was seconds away from bursting into an explanation about the wonders on Hestia’s ground when he remembered that, officially, they had never set foot on Hestia’s soil.
On their way to the MPP, they crossed paths with a young cadet and a junior analyst. One recognized Lucas, while the other recognized Edwin. Their excitement manifested as a restrained explosion that lasted only a split second before they both forced themselves back into seriousness.
“Welcome back! Congrats on another clean mission,” the analyst said casually, already scrolling past them.
Edwin returned the smile automatically.
The cadet saluted so fast that Lucas had his hand halfway up before the cadet had already vanished around the corner..
The MPP took them to Shuttle Deck 12, where the AGR waited for them, ready to initiate reentry.
They strapped in, and the moment the engines ignited, they all smiled. That raw feeling, the vibrations, the shaking, the metallic squeaks of reentry. All of it. So rough. So primal. So Earth. A far cry from Hestia’s unrushed precision, and all done with a ship not even meant for reentry.
Once on the ground, the same military team from their departure accompanied them, and they could swear it was the same gravicopter too. The déjà‑vu too strong to ignore.
Linnea leaned toward Elara and whispered,
“Do you think they’ve been waiting here for us this whole time?”
A strange, funny thought that made them both laugh.
The feeling that the flight had taken longer than it should made sense now. This time, they landed directly inside the SEET compound, on a freshly built landing pad.
They were tired, and being unexpectedly so close to home filled them with quiet joy.
Lucas and Francy remained in the gravicopter, as their destination is a military unit a few miles from SEET.
They all waited for the takeoff before drifting away, eager to reach their homes.
With little surprise, Elara found a basket on her doorstep, convinced it’s from Almas’ parents which made a habit of helping her. But this time there was a note:
“Welcome back, Dr. Song.
A small something in case you need a bite.
— Dr. deMatisse.”
Inside the house, she felt how much she had missed its comfort… how much she had missed this small, quiet corner of the universe.
She let her bag fall by the door and stood there for a moment longer than necessary, listening to the quiet. For a heartbeat, it almost felt like enough.
Almost.
Because she knew the hard part was still ahead.
Keeping the reported truth intact. Feeding the leaders with consistent, compelling results. Keeping their peers fed with solid data to keep them busy. Especially their peers. Because, scientists always find their way to see the truth beyond appearances.
<< Familiarity >>
The first few months were the hardest, tense with the constant effort not to slip, not to reveal something they shouldn’t. But silence, like any system, eventually settles into routine.
The guilt weighed on them too: lying to their peers and friends, knowing that one day Commander Min and Dr. deMatisse might call them in and demand explanations for the very things they were trying to protect.
With each passing month, the novelty and curiosity around their mission began to fade. Work and personal life slowly returned to normal. But, somewhere deep in their minds, the worries were still there… alive, sometimes surfacing… but no longer uncertain.
If their colleagues only knew what they had actually experienced, the questions would flow for years.
CERES, with GAIA’s support, kept the promise. The crew received monthly progress reports — always the highlight of their month, confirming in their own quiet way that trusting CERES had been the right choice.
They trusted the data, despite their experience with fake reports. The numbers made sense. No hidden messages. No coded warnings. Just pure, steady progression, shaped by CERES’ variables and customized for each of them.
Edwin received updates on the engines used by Consensus PARE — as CERES now called the updated PARE120 community. “Updated” being an understatement, considering they barely resemble the originals.
Linnea received updates on the forest’s evolution, bird migration patterns, and the growth of Hestia’s biodiversity. Data on the water system, wind patterns, storms, and — her favorite — the tidal effects caused by Hestia’s orbital proximity to Mars and Earth.
Her thesis on the subject was already waiting for the three‑year mark to finally see daylight.
Gerth received updates on the power network: changes to the HVPPG to increase output, GMT optimizations to stabilize the electromagnetic field, and, her favorite part, the new materials seamlessly integrated into construction elements to naturally harvest solar energy.
Henry’s reports were the only ones that, even if discovered, would simply look like a theoretical thesis on new communication methods and signal‑loss reduction. Nothing that could be linked to Hestia’s reality. But CERES had promised him he would witness, and be part of, a shift in communication that would change the way humans perceived distance.
For reasons CERES never explained, Lucas and Francy received their reports split in two. Each got updates on the city’s layout, safety systems, and Aerospace units. But only together did the full picture emerge. Every month, they happily combined their reports.
Elara once asked GAIA if this was CERES’ way of observing the shift from friendship to love, but GAIA never clearly confirmed nor denied it.
And then there was Elara. She didn’t receive a report like the others. Instead, she received code‑line riddles to decipher. The solutions weren’t meant to reveal secrets. The entire game existed to inform her of new breakthroughs in the Consensus PARE network.
She even shared some of the riddles with her team under the “skill challenges” banner. They embraced them so enthusiastically that whenever Elara went too long without bringing a new one, they began “complaining” that they needed more challenges to feel fulfilled.
<< Mark >>
HIC — Hestia’s Incognito Crew, as Edwin had nicknamed them — were having their sixth gathering since returning to Earth. The only moments where they could freely talk about Hestia, their reports, and speculate about what might be inside the box.
Whether SEET’s precautions had been justified or not.
Surprisingly, SEET had accepted The Gift rather easily, even though it couldn’t be opened before the three‑year mark. GAIA’s “proofs” had been compelling enough. Something about PARE120 creating a new PARE‑derived tool currently waiting for adapted software.
Naturally, the software was projected to take three years to develop and activate..
These relaxed gatherings, decided impulsively in the gravicopter, had been the best decision they could have made.
Coming together in a place just for them, where they could speak freely about Hestia, acted like a pressure valve, helping them move forward without the weight of duality.
Shortly before midnight, the party came to an end, and everyone headed home re‑energized.
Elara walked into her house humming a tune that had stuck in her head since the party.
“GAIA, soft jazz,” she said, still full of energy, and the music filled the air.
“Elara, you have a message from Alma. Would you like to play it?”
“Alma? Sweet Alma. I haven’t seen her in ages. Didn’t she finish college or something already? I think she’s… what… eighteen or nineteen?”
“She will be twenty in six months. She has her license and her master’s degree.”
“That’s my Alma. Little overachiever… You know what? I bet she already started her doctorate thesis. Let’s see what she has to say.”
The video message began with a short collage of Alma in college. She looked happy in every frame. The collage ended with her dressed in full academic regalia, holding her diploma.
Then she appeared in a garden that struck Elara as familiar, though she wasn’t sure where from.
“Hi, Aunt Elara! I did it! Look at me now!” she said, waving her diploma. ”I’m just waiting to see you. I wanted so much to come home when you returned, but… you know how it is. Besides, I finished earlier.”
She paused, glancing at something, or someone off‑screen.
“Coming! In a minute!” Then she turned back to the camera. “So, Aunt Elara, I wanted to share this with you and tell you that I have a surprise for you. I can’t wait to meet you and hear more about Hestia! Bye! See you soon!”
Elara watched the last frame for a few more seconds, smiling.
“She’s such a young lady now. I still remember her jumping through the window if I took too long to open the door.”
“Elara, you have a message from SEET on a secured channel.”
She had known this channel existed since joining SEET, and as far as she knew, this was the first time it had ever been used.
“On screen.”
3Y Mark: T‑23:58:15
“Already?” She stared at the countdown, not thinking about what it meant, but only about what the aftermath would look like.
Leave a Reply