Scene 1 – Farnham & Obregon Headquarters

 

The sealed world of Koryx was a subject of Galaxy's endless fascination – simply by virtue of being sealed.

 

Not that nothing was known of it, or that nobody has ever spoken to a Koryxi: on the contrary, despite closely guarding their incredibly advanced technology, they made no secret of other facets of their culture. In fact, thousands of their cultural texts had been proliferated throughout the Galaxy by now… not that many cared.

 

"Such a joke," Chairman Obregon grumbled, taking a quick sip of his swirling coffee. He grimaced at the taste and snapped his fingers at the auto-maid in the corner – the sleek humanoid robot quickly approached him, took his cup and left.

 

"Like anybody would care about their philosophising. Get me one of their ships, now that would make me care."

 

"They were probably hoping we'd create our own, if we learned from their 'enlightened' ways," Yoon said with a shrug, trying not to sound too conciliatory.

 

It didn't have to be ships, though the alleged sightings were impressive to say the least. It could have been anything – as long as it was "authentically Koryxi", Farnham & Obregon would find a market for it.

 

For his part, Yoon didn't much care for the Koryxi and their tiny isolated world. His trade was negotiation, deal brokering, opening up new markets – things that were flatly impossible with a reclusive single-world civilisation.

 

Still, he considered them a curiosity, and curiosities gave him tiny pangs of nostalgia. There used to be a time when he lived for the universe's curiosities… the time before jump fuel costs, augment upkeep, and the endless speed-chess of negotiating Farnham & Obregon's way onto another unsuspecting – but deep-pocketed – world. 

 

Chairman Obregon, however, either forgot of such a time in his life, or never had a single minute of it.

 

"Well, then they could give us the blueprints!" he shouted. "If I wanted to read moral philosophy, I'd have gone to a, you know, moral philosophy cognisync!"

 

Yoon cleared his throat. 

 

"I didn't see Koryx in today's news-stream, but we're talking about it all the same. You've clearly gotten something through your own channels. A lead?"

 

Obregon looked at Yoon for a long moment, then laughed, wagging his finger at him. "There he is! Overqualified!" he tapped himself on the temple. "I swear, if the rest of my brokers had your brains, we would've cornered the market already."

 

The auto-maid returned with a fresh cup of coffee, perfectly stable in its hands even as it waddled towards Obregon. The Chairman took it without looking. 

 

"What if I told you we might be getting a trade deal with the Koryxi?"

 

Yoon's mouth hung open.

 

Indeed, what if I told you of a trade deal with the Koryxi, he thought.

What if I told you we've finally cracked time travel. 

What if I told you a classless society has been achieved. 

What if I told you the Grenz Nebula Insurgency was actually over.

 

"How? I mean- No, that's exactly what I- But why not…" Yoon got over the initial shock quickly, but as he considered the proposition, the shocks just kept coming. "Who negotiated it? Why wasn't I-"

 

"Easy, son," Obregon raised his palm. "There is no deal yet, they just wish to discuss it. Our man on Maat got approached about it – dumb luck on our part, honestly." Obregon grinned. "And that's where you come in."

 

Scene 2 – Library-Moon of Maat

 

From the moment Maat came into view, Yoon couldn't take his eyes off of it. He watched the lichen-covered rocks of the Koryxi "library-moon", sprinkled lightly with tiny white specks. Those were the libraries proper – or rather, the access points to the planet-wide optical memory archive – and Yoon's ship gently piloted itself to the landing pad of one of them.

 

Inside, past the corridor of completely smooth white stone, bathed in the warm light of cleverly positioned lanterns, he had his meeting scheduled.

 

"Greetings. Please, have a seat."

 

At first, Yoon was speechless.

A lizard.

Or rather, a small reptilian biped, just like the stories went.

The intelligence in his eyes felt… older than human speech. Older than Earthly mammals becoming orthograde, really.

 

Before Yoon could ask where he could find a seat, a small slit opened in a wall nearby. It produced a flat disc that floated quickly and gracefully over to him, freezing in the air about a meter from the ground. Yoon gave it a skeptical look at first, but after a small shrug sat down on it.

 

For some reason it amused the Koryxi.

 

"You did not test it first – why?"

 

Yoon smiled, trying his best to stay calm. "Do visitors usually do that?"

"What if our technology isn't fit for larger species?" the reptilian smiled back. At least Yoon thought it was a smile, and not merely the being's natural face shape.

 

"Your homeworld is protected by an impenetrable shield. I'll trust that you can make a decent seat."

 

Now Yoon was sure his host was actually smiling.

"Trust is good. There are no lies on Koryx – out in the Galaxy, there are plenty."

 

Yoon had to remind himself that he was there for a reason, with a job to do. He was having a conversation with one of the Galaxy's greatest living mysteries – how could he possibly be content with this most minimal of small talks?

 

He tried to take comfort in the thought that if he succeeds, and this trade deal ends up signed, he'll get plenty of other, less formal opportunities to speak with the Koryxi.

 

"I speak without arrogance: our civilisation, our… Whole has more to offer the Galaxy than the Galaxy can offer us," the reptilian said, piercing Yoon with his gaze. "And yet… there is something we could use assistance with."

 

"Anything we can do," Yoon said, a little recklessly.

 

And suddenly, the Koryxi wasn't smiling anymore.

 

"One of our own was kidnapped, by a belligerent and hateful group of beings."

 

Yoon leaned in, listening closely.

 

"A researcher. They thought they could convince him to work for them, improve their bodies to make them better at the business of war," the reptilian said grimly. "Thankfully, he would not do that. It is forbidden to facilitate violence without cause."

 

Then you should probably continue your isolation, Yoon thought. 

Out loud, he said with some concern, "Belligerent beings tend to have… ways of convincing their captives."

 

The reptilian shook his head. "Koryxi minds are disciplined. We do not fear pain."

 

"In any case, we'll do everything we can, but we must move quickly," Yoon said, already getting off his seat when the Koryxi raised his hand to stop him.

 

"He was taken exactly one thousand, seven hundred, and twenty two years ago." 

 

Yoon froze. The reptilian kept speaking.

"Time is not of the essence here. The Koryxi have time. And we would know if one of our own had perished," the reptilian placed his palm on his chest as if it was supposed to communicate something.

Yoon nodded as if he understood.

 

"His captors are long gone, and even their great-grandchildren. They are fleeting creatures, like we once were. Like your kind still are," he pointed at Yoon, seemingly not entirely sympathetic with such a condition.

He then continued, looking the man right in the eye.

"The Koryxi persist. And share a bond. When one is taken from the Whole, a void is left that causes us all a great anguish. An eternity of great anguish. Yet this researcher does not return."

 

"You think he is still being held, after all these years?"

 

The Koryxi stayed silent for a moment.

 

"I hope you will confirm that he is. Because for all the collected knowledge of our civilisation…" the Koryxi spread his arms, pointing out the library around them, connected to the miles and miles of underground optical memory vaults. "We simply cannot answer: why would one of us, torn from the Whole, choose not to return?"