HRVST, Ch.3: The Huntress Midwife Who Delivered The Sun
HRVST, Ch.3: The Huntress Midwife Who Delivered The Sun
A Huntress Whose Sigil Was The Moon Was The Midwife To The Sun
Luna
Artemis, Diana, Selene, the three form goddess was a huntress, her lodge was the brightest light in the evening sky. The light of the moon was bright enough for her Olympian eyes to hunt. As everyone slept, lost in dreams, a hunter found her quarry.
Were she to have a sigil, it would have been bow, quiver, arrows, and sacred deer.
Brazen Agamemnon Atriedes dared sacrifice one of the goddess’ untouchable deer.
As punishment for the arrogance of House Atriedes, the huntress stilled the winds which filled the sails of ships bound for Troy. The mighty Achaean fleet of 1,000+ ships was trapped in still waters. Artemis held the ships hostage in exchange for the life of one of Agamemnon’s daughters.
What happens is lost to all the epics of the age, whether the daughter was sacrificed, married off to Achilles, or was pitied and transformed or replaced by another deer.
Whichever bargain was struck, a pardon would remain the same, the Achaeans were allowed to attack Troy, and breach its walls with a gift.
She was the personification of nature’s wrath, wielded by one who delights in storms of arrows, Artemis of the Golden Arrows.
The brilliance of her arrows and the light of her moon shone at night but the day belonged to one she helped midwife into existence, her brother, the Sun.
Known by many names, Apollo, Helios, Hyperion, the sun, the god of healing, a deity of laws and civilization, a world builder.
Filled with the power of the prophecy, he was the god of the future.
Luna, Aitken Basin, Armstrong Base, Space Cooperative
“Hyperion.”
The captain waited for the administrator to continue.
“It’s just you, a coyote got you up the well, hard enough to do in good times, a little easier because of the confusion after what the sun did. What can you do alone?"
“Who says I’m the only one here?”
The captain waited for more details.
“What about my family?”
“You’ve hidden them in the city, they stay that way. You knew enough to do that.
If you did that, it means you’re waiting for someone or something. I know what you’re going to ask next. My answer is I will come for whomever or whatever you’re scared of before they find your family.”
The administrator picked up a rock from his desk.
“For the longest time, I felt like I didn’t deserve the good things I got in my life.
A Labor Cooperative lottery got me a slot on the Quito Skyhook. It wasn’t easy work but I stayed alive. Someone, on the shift before mine, on EV maintenance of the upper hook, left the wrong switch on by accident. It almost killed the cohort steward.
I was lucky and got ahold of him. He was short-time, near retirement, and wanted to return the favor. He took me aside and said, “You’re just the kind of guy they’re looking for.” I felt a tiny bit like he was telling me that I deserved something good.
Next thing, he traded me for retirees on rotation back down the well from Luna.
That was my shot. I wasn’t ‘Space Cooperative’ material but I made it. To Luna.
The steward called in favors and had the last administrator take me on.
I started all over again, long hours, scut work but I earned the administrator’s respect. I did what needed doing. It’s not like the promotional experiences pushed on the public news oracles but the people under this dome became my people. He trusted me.
I was assigned to a long-term R&D project. I thought it was the usual, agree to an NDA, hand over wallets for them to airdrop credentials and a pretty big bonus, straight to my parents. All kinds of work going on, Space Cooperative skunkworks.
Everybody worked in their silo in different projects, and we were happy to work on something different and challenging. Our families were given everything. Gossip was zero. Nobody wanted to risk losing what they had. We all came here the same way, this was our lottery ticket, and we didn’t want to lose what was too good to be true.
Besides that, everybody thought we were doing the right thing. The future, you know?
At last, I felt like I no only deserved some rewards, but that I was due something great.
Then, there was the CME. You know that part. Earth got hit. Even Mars got lit up. A solar storm for the books, like lighting from Mount Olympus. The base administrator was killed in an accident, and I wasn’t there to “catch” him like I did my old steward. They made me temporary administrator.
The last administrator, a few days before he died, called me in and showed me this.”
The administrator picked up an item from the desk, a black card. He pressed on its surface. An octagon in the middle of the card rose a few hairs above its face.
“The last man to sit in this chair told me that only a handful of people know what’s going on. Everything here and under other domes, it’s all for something big. It goes back to the founders and the founding of the Space Cooperative.
He then said something crazy, he said, what if we harnessed the power of the gods?”
The administrator picked up the black card, gave it to the captain, and continued,
“What happens if a civilization overnight had unlimited energy, the power to change dead cold planets into warm living worlds, fling ships even faster than we thought possible? And then as if that’s not enough, what if we could transfer and transport minds anywhere, create bodies out of energy, and send them between worlds? What if we could do that to any star?
That’s what he said was told to him, he was one of the few invited to a rare audience. The great genius hiding on his mountaintop on the Moon wanted to share his plans. The one whose name we dare not say.”
“Necker,” said the captain, as he studied the black card, “he discovered this power.”
“Yes. Except he doesn’t have it all covered. He’s wrong, and billions will be killed.
The contracts for the caravans and the ‘coin’, is a down-payment for what this so-called genius wanted. Caravans of ships and trillions of atlanticcoin, where the S.C. is the bank, the mint of the world’s most important money. To pay for this dream.
This is a dream of the gods. Only it’s a nightmare, and nobody but me and a few others know. We’re the most unlucky people because there’s nothing we can do to stop it. All I can do is hide until it happens.
You tell me, how do I deserve that. This is what I’m due? The end of everything?
He told me they were going to launch her and spin up what she’s carrying.
That’s why they gave the project an ancient name for the sun.
It’s the name of a black box created to mine the sun itself. We’re not talking solar panels, solar sails, heat reflectors and mirrors. It uses little miniature “suns”, special fusion reactors and such, to kickstart this box to harness the real thing, the sun itself.
Hyperion.
That’s when I realized how trapped we were, with a madman under a dome on a airless world, nightmare under the sun. I don’t think it was the CME that killed the last administrator. Holders of these black cards, unique wallets, ultraprivate keys, are the few who knew the whole story, or at least whatever they were told by “him”.
Not long after he showed me the card, the last administrator had an impossible accident happen to him. He’s not the only one. Just the ones who objected.
After the CME, I sent a message to our mutual friend, Robin.
I told her the caravan already inbound to Mars was in trouble, like a series of dead-stick dominoes about to crash into Mars, on glidepaths straight to outposts and settlements. After I warned her, the administrator was killed by an accident. I hid my family.”
The administrator pointed at the the black private “key” in the captain’s hand.
I think you better hold on to this. I don’t know. I have a feeling you might need it.”
The captain nodded and looked at the card one more time.
The black wallet’s octagon receded and was flush with its surface.
Five letters were etched over the octagon.
H. R. V. S. T.
Notes: Prompt on Hugging Face for AI Art
realistic detailed profile portrait of a beautiful futuristic greek goddess Artemis italian renaissance queen in opulent alien glass armor by alphonse mucha, ayami kojima, amano, greg hildebrandt, and mark brooks, female, feminine, art nouveau, ornate italian renaissance cyberpunk, iridescent venetian blown glass, neo - gothic, gothic, character concept design