Fire in the hole

From time to time I go to Pilgrim's Rest, in our outpost in wormhole space. The station boasts a very pleasant park with walkways, under a dome with a view on the wormhole system that we call Seclusion. Scattered around the park there are chapels and temples of many denominations, not only our own Amarr faith. I suppose that is because wormhole space is a refuge for lost souls and wanderers from just about every corner of the cluster, and we want to welcome them, and offer them a place to rest and pray or meditate.

Of course I want our Amarrian chapel to be the nicest and most attractive of them all. So, from time to time I make a supply run, with new copies of the Pax Amarria, and freshly blessed candles and holy water. Perhaps more than these supplies, it is my unannounced inspection visit that keeps the chapel at its best. The chapel personnel knows it can not slack.

They might be tempted into slothfulness because the chapel remains severely underused. It is meant for capsuleers, as the station's baseline personnel have their own church. When I went to Seclusion before, the place was very quiet. Apart from the occasional curious visiting pilot, only a handful of capsuleers called Seclusion home. And these were a ragtag gang of reclusive hermits each pretty much doing their own thing. Many of them have some sort of criminal record which keeps them from going back to known space.

"Seclusion" lived up to its name.

So you can imagine my pleasant surprise when I during my latest visit I found our wormhole dominion bustling with fresh capsuleer activity. Standing fleets for defense were obliterating Sleeper hotspots and chasing out unwelcome trespassers. No more lone ninja-mining: now a mining fleet was crunching asteroids in an orderly manner under the oversight of a mining foreman. Wormhole connections were being either guarded by watchmen or "rolled out" - a process of controlled collapse of an unwanted wormhole. New colonial towns are appearing on the planets, mostly serving factories and mines extracting the bountiful resources of the wormhole planets. There is a busy coming and going of freight vessels to bring Seclusion's exotic products back to Amarr.

The whole system is filled with the air of industriousness and the zeal of colonists at a new and uncharted frontier. 

This recent expansion into the wormhole frontier is the work of the Comitia Centuriata, a new chapterhouse of the Societas, organised by Publius Cornelius Felix and his associates of House Ghassan. It fits in our alliance's overall programme of peaceful reclamation and of bringing the faith to all the stars in the universe. We have our long-standing and multi-constellation operations in Syndicate, with the Heitil Bairviit corporation as part of Khimi Harar doing God's work. More recently, Prince Seraghis' Zaraehvar corporation joined the alliance, reinforcing our presence and development efforts in Aridia. I hope that this newest chapter in our expansion will become as succesfull as these other glorious enterprises!

A special medbay patient

Noise coming from the direction of Nauplius' hangars in Mehatoor never signifies anything good. 

At least this time it is not the grunting of yak herds bestowed on unsuspecting LUMEN capsuleers as courtship gifts. In stead, upon my return from the anti-drifter mission, I was greeted by shrill prayers loudly shouted by a vast crowd of slaves. 

Sound dampeners keep these yelled prayers from propagating as vibrations through the beams and structural elements of the Lamp. But from some of our own hangars not equipped with such devices, the ruckus can be heard.

I inquired as to the reason of this auditory assault. To my great surprise, it appears related to Yun-Hee Yubari being treated in our medical facility. Nauplius has ordered his hangar slaves to pray for her. Yun-Hee's presence in the medbay is news to me. It was clearly kept confidential (as medical records should be), but that sort of privacy is no longer possible due to the yelling slave horde. 

The news affects me deeply. I have known Yun-Hee as a kind soul, one who could not bear the cruelty of the world we live in. The last time that we met, now over a year ago, she informed me of her decision to end her life. We said our farewells and I never heard back from her. I assumed... but apparently, I was wrong.

I will try to visit her, to find out what happened. Perhaps I will not be allowed in, for medical reasons. In any case, I will pray for her.

In silence.

((ooc: Today's blog touches on a topic that may evoke emotions and affect you, even though Yun-Hee is a fictional character created by an EVE roleplayer. If you are struggling with dark thoughts, please know that there are always people you can turn to. In EVE's community we have "broadcast 4 reps" and on their resources page your can find links to professional help and programs.))

MIO debrief

A debriefing from the MIO is always more pleasant when you are considered an informant rather than a suspect. That being said, no-one is ever not a suspect. 

But, at least in this case, they were quite happy to hear all about the ARC mission against the Drifters. I was surprised that they knew exactly our fleet composition, and how the ships had been fitted out in Jita. Well, perhaps it is not all that surprising, all the core empires (and probably the barbarian kingdoms too) have eyes there. It did interest them though how the Drekavacs were refitted during the mission to enhance the drone effectiveness, and how the pilots reacted in combat. The sensor logs and records from the Indagatrix were copied, rather than confiscated, as I am allowed to share them with alliance strategists.

This is the second big success for Mr. Ivan Firth. First the recovery of biodroid technology, and now this intel. He should be up for promotion soon. That might keep him busy while I plan to go and visit Anath again with Luna.

Battering the battering ram

The Drifters are building disc-like structures in Turnur. These are some sort of battering rams that can impact the Fulcrum's event horizon wall protecting Zarzakh against intruders.

After a cycle of attack on the Fulcrum's lock, the breaching device shown above hides in a spacetime shell until it is ready to redeploy. 

Under the command of DutchGunner from the Arataka Research Consortium, the fleet did something that is not very research-like. They must think R&D stands for Research and Destroy. The fleet not only defended itself against the Drifters attacking it, but it launched an counterattack on the event horizon breacher structure. Staying true to my vow of non-agression, I did not take offensive actions but I concentrated completely on providing remote repairs for the fleet. It was one of the most challenging "logi" jobs I have done thusfar, as the large enemy fleet was spreading out damage and neuts all over our vastly outnumbered flotilla: three Guardians to keep eight other ships (and themselves) alive.

It worked. Not one ship was lost during the ten long and grueling waves of attackers. 

The technology that we retrieved appears based mostly on gravitoleptonic field manipulation. In addition to well known electron spin resonance devices, also muon cosmic resonances were found - signal beacons containing wormhole resonance frequencies. The device uses these as scripts to be loaded into a "phryctorian generator" that creates a wormhole. Below is an image of the generator: it is the small dark structure with five control centers connected to it; it is hovering right above the central emitter port of the disk (you can also see it in the first image of this log entry).

Sadly after the attack, the generator was damaged beyond repair. Near the control towers for the phryctorian generator, we found neurovisial input matrices in the debris. These specialized Drifter controllers allow operators to process large amounts of sensory data. To me this suggests that the spacetime tunnels that the device initiates must then be steered manually by Drifter operators through spacetime towards its target. It would hit Zarzakh's horizon wall and attempt to pierce it.

All these finding are very worrisome: from what I can gather here, the Drifters possess the technology to weave artificial wormholes to anywhere they want. It looked as if this is also how they brought reinforcements to attack our fleet. That is quite unlike jump gates, that require a long process of building, and must be positioned at specially selected quantum entangled resonant points. It is also unlike jump drives that can transport only one (or a few) ships over a relatively short distance of a few light years and require a cynosural beacon on the other side to anchor the jump tunnel. Even the shipcaster devices -needing a huge amount of power- require a beacon in their target system. But the Drifters appear able to steer a wormhole exit to a point of their choice, not bookmarked or visited before, without the presence of a gate on the other side. Weaponized wormholes.

Who knows, used for peaceful purposes this technology may help repair Eve Gate...

Drifters in Turnur

The system of Zarzakh - where the pirate calling himself the Deathless is holed up - is a black hole system. Not a usual one: it has some sort of defensive double-wall event horizon that can be put up around the system. The wall is an impressive feat of spacetime engineering by the Jovians: it is able to effectively seal off the system in four dimensional spacetime. This defensive system has recently been activated from deep within the Fulcrum, the Jovian station in system, occupied by the Deathless. Now nothing can enter or leave the system without being granted passage by those inside the Fulcrum. 

The Drifters, enemies of the Empire, are laying siege to Zarzakh. Like a siege of a fortified town during the Udorian wars, they need siege engines to breach the town walls. The Drifters deploy devices to breach Zarzakh's protective event horizon wall in the systems with a gate to it. They want to punch their own holes through that defensive wall and perhaps capture Zarzakh to use it for their own evil purposes, and/or prevent the Deathless from obtaining more Jovian technology by evicting him from his fortress.

Most of our capsuleers just sit back and happily watch how our two enemies, Drifters and the Deathless, kill each other. To others, a Drifter foothold in the Empire, in Turnur, is an unbearable insult. I feel a bit of both these emotions, and in addition I am curious about what artifacts and new technology can be retrieved from those event horizon breaching devices. 

We can not let outsiders alone investigate this. I will join a fleet by the international Arataka Research Consortium, and will be providing logistical support and remote repairs from a Guardian-class vessel. My political officer, Mr. Firth, was inclined to find this mission too dangerous and best left to the Navy, but in the end agreed that these foreign agents should be monitored while in Turnur.

The fleet is assembled in the Jita trade hub, and will use the auspicious appearance of a wormhole connecting Turnur to a system just a few jumps from Jita. Certainly, this is a sign that God approves of this mission.

Cruise aftermath

The return flight of the cruise was rather uneventful, apart from the expected visit from the Ministry of Internal Order. As soon as we left Megazorm, we were joined by these officers, under the command of an Deacon Inquisitor. There were interrogations of everyone involved, but these interrogations were suprisingly painless, probably in order not to cause international incidents. 

Lady Adelath demanded that mister Maulus and I would be given medals, and given her status the Inquisitor did not make fun of that request, but politely said he would certainly look into that. I am afraid that mister Maulus will miss out on his medal after biting the Inquisitor in the legs - now that I have become his friend, he has to look for other targets for his favorite pastime.

I cut short my stay on the cruise, taking my leave from lady Adelath and mister Maulus, for an urgent matter. It appears that the Drifters are setting up some sort of outpost in Turnur, and there is an opportunity to join a exploration fleet from the Arataka Research Consortium.

This system has been the center of an immense tragedy recently. Minmatar attacks caused a stellar transmuter to malfunction, leading to a huge coronal mass ejection from Turnur star, scorching the inner planet. Perhaps this accident was also caused in some part due to the presence of a hidden and powerful Jovian star gate in the system; a gate leading to the system of Zarzakh, home of the Deathless.

And now, the Drifters took an interest in Zarzakh...

The crime fighting furrier

-continued from September 10th- 

Pondering the design of trash compactors, I remembered that there was also a garbage chute, the one from  which mister Maulus must have entered this chamber. Indeed, several holes were present in the ceiling. 

Helped by the raising level of the trash as the walls close in, and piling up long objects, I climbed up and was able to get into one of the chutes, so I did not join Dr. Setun in flatland after all. It occurred to me that perhaps this was not such a good idea, since I might be trapped there for a long time if I am thought to be dead. Being entombed alive in a garbage chute is not a nice prospect either.

Anyway, my fears were misplaced, since a little while after the compaction, the walls opened up again to prepare for the next cycle. I was able to climb out and leave through the service tunnel. Lady Adelath had already called for backup - the ship's first lieutenant, two cooks, and the entertainment crew were there. 

She presented the case against the captain - the evidence clearly pointed at him. And now there would be more evidence: when he knew of my rescue operation, he tried to murder mister Maulus (and me, but Lady Adelath's priorities were obvious) and with a bit more sleuthing could certainly be linked to the activation of the compactor. 

According to Lady Adelath, the first lieutenant is an ambitious man who hopes to replace the captain at some point. Indeed he did not hesitate to relieve the captain from duty and throw him in the brig. No mutiny was needed. 

We are now leaving Mezagorm, in order to turn over the captain (and the evidence) to the authorities. From there on forward it not be our problem. But it will be a diplomatic mess: In Amarr space, a State citizen murdered a Federation citizen who was an admirer of the Triglavian numerical system. 

Unfortunately, I had to abort my explorations of Mezagorm for now, having obtained only an approximate location of the Tetrimon garrison. The rest of this cruise will be spent in celebratory tea and cookie parties for the safe return of mister Maulus, the crime fighting furrier.

Trash Compactor

In the nick of time, we found mister Maulus. 

In a trash compactor. These are large chambers inside the station, used to collect trash. After a certain amount of time the collected garbage is crushed with hydraulics to a small volume to be disposed more easily.

Mister Maulus was alive! The compactor has not been working for ages. It is connected to the scene of the crime via a trash chute - I should have thought about this before. It was not a neutrino signal but a faint twittering sound that led us to the chute! Lady Adelath praised God, the Empress, and all the saints. 

The only way into the compactor was via a service tunnel. It took a bit of time to open the maintenance hatch that sealed the tunnel. And it was quite uncomfortable to crawl through, I have ripped my monk's robe. Meanwhile while lady Adelath was hovering impatiently outside, calling her pet every ten seconds, alternating with calls instructing me to hurry up.

When I finally came through and entered the compactor, mister Maulus lept up at me. At first I thought it was attacking but it merely wanted a hug. I have never seen a happier furrier, or heard happier tweets. Mister Maulus then went to retrieve his trophy: a piece of captain's uniform, torn from the murderer's pants. I had always thought these animals to be stupid, but here I stood corrected...

At that moment, the compactor started working, its walls closing in as it loudly grinded ancient trash into small pieces of debris. Perhaps I accidentally set it off? I clambered back to the service tunnel entrance, which was about to disappear behind one of the moving walls. I was able to pass mister Maulus through, carrying the evidence in his beak, but by then the entrance had become too small to let me through.

Having died and recloned already a few times, this situation did not panic me. I accepted that this clone was doomed. I found myself pondering whether this was an engineering design flaw - one cannot enter the compactor for repairs if the service tunnel is blocked by the wall.

-to be continued-

Race against the clock

I have already scanned many floors around the 344th floor, but there is no trace of a furrier dead or alive yet. Lady Adelath is staying in her cabin most of the time, where she is praying at the deployable home altar that she has installed there. There is a beautiful travel triptych on her altar, in gilded wood carving typical of the rich and exuberant artistic expression style of Danyana II.

At the side of the triptych, at the feet of Saint Benedicta, there are some scratch marks made by mister Maulus, who uses the piece of art as a scratch pole for his claws when lady Adelath is not looking. Now that he is missing these marks are a potent reminder of his absence, and a focus for her prayers.

Meanwhile, the death of Dr. Setun was reported to the nearest Federation consulate, who petitioned their Amarr counterparts to get access to the site of the "accident". That was politely refused. Through a large amount of legal paperwork it was explained that Mezagorm is off-limits to official representatives of foreign governments including most certainly police investigators. The matter will be dealt with once the cruise docks up at a MIO station, from whence the (largely two-dimensional) remains of Dr. Setun will be transferred to the Federation consulate. 

In order to comply, the captain wants to leave immediately. Of course Lady Adelath protested strongly. She played on the captain's emotions by saying that he ought not to leave men or furrier behind again. 

The captain has given us 24 hours before the cruise leaves, "with or without you" as he said. So it is a race against the clock to find mister Maulus. 

Accusation

Lady Adelath has been doing detective work very actively, despite being upset about mister Maulus. She has this effect on people, putting them at ease. They are feeling relaxed confiding to the old lady in the hoverchair. 

That way, she has been interrogating a lot of folks without them quite realizing it. She has spent some effort talking to an actress that Dr. Setun had a particular liking for - she is here with a holofilm crew to shoot a historical movie set at the Amarr court, and they want to use Mezagorm. It is a Gallente movie, so no doubt there will be depravity and mad emperors.

But it was after the captain came by to see how she was, that she turned to me and told me: "He did it." I wondered how she could know. She said, "Elementary, my dear brother Theodosius. Have you looked at his uniform?" 

I had, and I had noticed nothing particular.

"Well, perhaps a ladies' eyes are needed to see this. He is wearing the same old and dirty uniform since the start of the cruise. He clearly does not take all that much care any more in his appearance." She looked at me, and added "You yourself might take a bit more care about that as well, brother."  

I suddenly felt self-conscious about my old monk's gown.

"Anyway, he took a new pair of pants for his uniform."

I still was not quite following.

"Mister Maulus goes for the tendon at the back of the lower leg, when he attacks. He may not be tall, but he is smart and knows where he can best strike a lumbering pile of meat like our captain. He's probably torn the pants. Our lack-of-decorum captain just plucked new pants out of his closet, the rest is still the besmudged old uniform." 

I found this theory a bit far-fetched. But it had seemed odd to me that the captain took a particular personal interest in our search for the missing furrier, and wanted to dissuade us, saying we needed to depart soon to report the death. No police comes here. His motive according to lady Adelath is his hatred of all things Triglavian - the mathematician was a Triglavian admirer, and that must have blown his fuse - the trauma that he had from the war.

Now of course, we still need hard proof for Lady Adelath's hunch.

Furrier Fury

The lady Agatha Adelath explained that the vital sign tracker of mister Maulus showed that he became very agitated and angry; he clearly went into a furrier fury, ready to attack. Just after this happened, Dr. Setun released the furrier from its leash - also severing the link to the monitoring device. 

It is clear to lady Adelath that this was due to the presence of some sort of danger to Dr. Setun. Mister Maulus -who was quite fond of the mathematician- would want to protect the man that took him for a walk, and attack an enemy. Or the enemy's feet, at least, since this was his speciality (in addition to running off with the remote). And since Dr. Setun released him, it means the mathematician felt threathened. Hence the murder accusation.

I find it a bit far fetched, but I am hard pressed to find counter arguments. Lady Adelath instructed me to return my instruments to this side of the Grand Hall, and use them to try and find mister Maulus (or his little corpse, but I dare not mention that possibility out loud).

He cannot have gone very far. You can imagine Mezagorm as a large city or metropolis made out of immense buildings (lining the Grand Hall and along lanes circling outward from it). But all these buildings are abandoned and without power. It is a darkened, dead city - except for one building. The one used for tourism by Galactic Tours, that have brought their own mobile power station and oxygen tanks and life support systems for it. So, mister Maulus must still be in that building if he is alive. Yet that building is as large as a small town in itself, it has hundreds of floors, so it will take time to scan it. And to reconfigure the scanners for that purpose. It may leave me with not enough time to finish my own project.

But the request of a bereaved lady cannot be refused.

Terminal velocity

I should have known something was wrong when Galactic Tours offered me a full refund and free pass on the next cruise to go to Mezagorm. I refused, I have the equipment there now. They daddled a bit too long before getting me finally back.

Sure enough, disaster had struck while I had been away. 

Dr. Setun went for an evening stroll, to walk mister Maulus, the fedo of lady Adelath. The mathematician fell from a 344th floor panoramic walkway offering a view of the Grand Hall, and took mister Maulus with him in his fall. Not much was found at the place of impact but a splatter of blood and gore, along with some personal effects and the leash of mister Maulus. Poor lady Agatha Adelath is inconsolable, and they did not even let the good old dame go to the site of... well to that spot on the Grand Hall where she might say her goodbyes to the blood splat that is all that remains. 

They only knew it was Dr. Setun from DNA that was retrieved from the blood spatter and because cameras had seen him start his stroll towards the panoramic walkway. How this could have happened, no-one could imagine. The walkway is well secured, but something must have failed, or perhaps Dr. Setun turned off the safeties and climbed over the railings.

I vehemently protested to the crew that lady Adelath should be allowed to visit the place where her dear mister Maulus left this world, so that we could pray there together. In the end, the crew relented, and with some trepidation I joined lady Adelath to go to that site. 

She was shaking in her hoverchair, as she saw the scene. To my surprise, she inspected the scene carefully. A crewman that came along showed us where the leash and fedo harness was found. Lady Adelath carefully investigated what is left of the harness of mr. Maulus. It contains something like a black box recording device that keeps track of mr. Maulus' vital signs, something like runners and other competitive sportive types use. 

She then said, "Brother, I have two things to tell you, and I will need your help with both. Firstly, and most importantly, bless God, mister Maulus is still alive. Secondly, Dr. Setun has been murdered." 

Genesis Crusade

I interrupted my stay at Mezagorm before I could finish homing in on the location of the Tetrimon garrison abandoned thousand years ago. That feels like a signature scan being interrupted just before your probes find where that relic site exactly is at the highest resolution. But here, the site will not go away, and I can continue the search where I left it, once I return.

I took a shuttle - of course paying a hefty fee to Galactic Tours - and I will have to be back before the cruise leaves in about ten days time. And no refunds.

What prompted my sudden return to our headquarters is the declaration of the 'Genesis Crusade' that will be waged by our alliance, Khimi Harar, on the pirates and heretics in the Genesis region. The New Eden system with EVE Gate lies in that region, and it is one of my favorite places in all of the cluster. I started my explorations there, and it is where I first got in contact with the Societas, as they offered free docking at Farthest Shore. 

So, I am quite thrilled about this crusade. Just recently, I had complained about the presence of pirate capsuleer headquarters in New Eden. Now, it seems that my complaints reached the ears of the Almightly. Or at least our directors' ears. 

That is why I decided to go back shortly to Mehatoor. I wanted to hold a prayer service for the success of the crusade. As our crusaders are issued armor plates to protect their ships, it is only fair they are also given armor to protect their souls. And I used the occasion to also give a sermon to encourage all to participate.

In addition, I passed by the New Eden constellation and updated and completed the intelligence report on the structures that are present there. The region is still undergoing rapid changes - the White Sky hoodlums seem to be in disarray. God has stricken them, and it is now up to us to complete the task and become his Avenging Angels.

After I quickly pick up some furrier treats for Mr. Maulus, I will return to the cruise (paying another hefty fee to Galactic Tours, to bring me back). 

Mezagorm base camp

The Princess of the High Seas landed near a side-wall of the Grand Hall. This is not the first time that Galactic Tours has brought tourists to Mezagorm, they clearly have their routine. They have built a modern disembarkment platform, and a small domed colony building - all of it dwarfed by the Grand Hall. No space suits needed, you can comfortably go from the yacht to the building via an enclosed, movable connector tube. In the building there is an exhibit, a little restaurant, a panoramic view hall, and restrooms. It also serves as a base camp for tours inside Mezagorm, none of which stray very far from the building though.

I will not participate to the tours, to the great surprise of the crew. And I had them unload some cargo: I brought a planetary exploration vehicle, in which the bulky scanners could be mounted. It is a six-wheel vehicle with limited flight capability. With all this equipment crammed in, it is basically a one-person craft, going at a rather slow pace. It takes an hour to cover sixty kilometers on flat terrain, and it has a range of a thousand kilometers over ground - flight thrusters are to be used sparingly, and strongly reduce that range.

I have already found way more signatures than I thought there would be. Apparently, the Tetrimon were not sticking to a single encampment here, during the centuries that they guarded the abandoned city. 

There is a bit of organic and inorganic stuff from their time in nearly all directions. So, I will just go in the direction where the signals read the strongest, and point to the oldest material. For this I have to pass a part of the Grand Hall, along what a mathematician like dr. Setun might call a chord of the circle. This will cost me about three hours to traverse, before I reach the spot at the Grand Hall's side-wall where I will re-scan for the second leg of travel.

The grand hall

The yacht descended into the open dome of Mezagorm, "the vision of God" - or more accurately the vision of the mad emperor who thought he was God. As it went deeper into the structure, it revealed a stunning view: the center of Mezagorm consists of a vast emptiness, a hall of such mind-boggling proportions that its bottom surface can easily encompass an large modern metropolis. 

Mezagorm is built in epicircles upon smaller epicircles, dancing around, encircling, and spiraling out of this central grand hall. There is a fractal flavor to the entire architecture - the structures around the circular grand hall are also circular, containing and being bordered by other circular structures and habitats. The circle is a holy symbol in Amarr, depicting universal harmony with God and perfection; circles are everywhere here.

I am impressed by the immensity of this grand hall. I tried to take a picture (above) but it cannot really give a sense of scale. It is larger than any hangar I have ever seen - the light gray layered structure you see as a central band at the back is several kilometers in height, the height of a mountain. All of the (at that time already vast) population of Amarr could gather there to worship the mad emperor at its centre, that is the true meaning of this heretical 'vision of God'. The floor plan is divided in twelve sections, like a clock face, for the twelve major houses in the Empire that the mad emperor wanted to elevate to his privy council, and to which all other houses would be subservient.

This is going to take some time to scan down, and it will put the sensitivity of the scanners to the test if I am ever to home in on the quarters of the Tetrimon garrison of thousand years ago...

The plan: follow the radio-isotope fingerprints

We have at last arrived in Shastal. Today there are no excursions yet. Probably the local pirates have to be bribed properly to leave us alone. Meanwhile, we can take in the views of Mezagorm from space. 

I am preparing the measuring equipment that I brought along; these are very sensitive detectors for remote radio-isotopic fingerprinting. 

All the stuff around us contains trace amounts of various radioactive isotopes. The radiation from their decay (or decay chain) can be used to identify these isotopes, and for gamma radiation and neutrinos this can be done at a distance by modern equipment. 

Now, a signal from a single radio-isotope does not tell you much, but you learn much more if you look at the ratios of their signals. Take for example lead; it is always a mixture of a decent number of different isotopes. The precise isotope composition of any piece of lead is determined by the time and place where the lead was made - so it gives you a fingerprint to locate its planet and time of origin, and the more isotopes you include the more accurate you can pinpoint its origin, down to the very mine where the ore comes from, as long as this mine is listed in a sample database. 

Even with remote detection, advanced scanners can perfectly distinguish between materials containing heavy metals from the mad Emperor's era, and similar materials created in the Empire a thousand years later, when the Order of St. Tetrimon was perhaps still using some hideout in this station. They are sure to have left some stuff behind - even if it's just matter somewhere in a trash compactor on station. 

So, the plan is to use the scanning equipment to guide me to the spots in the station - off the touristic track - that have been used by the Tetrimon, perhaps as a relic vault.

A bit of mathematics

Dr. Setun joined us again at one of lady Adelath's tea and cookie confession sessions. Dr. Setun works as a sedative for the old lady, she confessed as much on an earlier occasion. And indeed, she nodded off while he started explaining why Triglavian base-3 computation is superior. Even mister Maulus took a nap, on her lap.

I listened. To me, there is something suspicious about his idolization of the Triglavian system. Perhaps, as a codebreaker during the war, he has been exposed too much to their corrupting influence.

Anyway, here is his argument. Remember that our decimals are base-10 numbers, while our computer bits are base-2 numbers. Some claim we just picked the number ten because that is how many fingers we have, so it is easy for finger-counting math. The first computer builders picked binary because in essence they worked with switches that can be on or off, just two values.

In general, you need more digits to represent an arbitrary number, if you use a smaller base. The number 82 has two digits in decimal, but in binary it is 1010010 : that is seven digits long. In a general base B, the amount of digits required to represent a number N is given by the base-B logarithm of that number, log_B(N). Or, to be precise, the first integer larger than that value.

So, it seems that a larger base, with its fewer digits, is more efficient at storing and manipulate numbers. However, there is also a cost: any digit can take on B values. There are more different symbols in our decimal system than the 0 and 1 of the binary system. So, the overal cost is actually B log_B(N). Now, if you try out several values for B, you will indeed conclude that B=3 gives the lowest cost. Note that, if you do not restrict yourself to integers, the function B log_B(N) becomes minimal when B equals St. Euxon's Holy Constant e=2.71828... for which 3 is the closest integer.

I tried to refute his argument, by claiming that most operations involve two-digit gates, for example addition or multiplication of two numbers. These kind of gates are characterized by B2 entries. So, for computation, B2log_B(N) is the function to minimize. For that case, actualy B=7 is the best number system. 

Hopefully we are not invaded by the Heptavians next.

Mister Maulus

The lady Adelath has been stalking me, requesting I visit her for confessions at least twice a day. Since she confesses more rapidly than she can sin, these sessions become tea-and-cookie parties during which she tells me about her life while I try to shift around on my chair to avoid her pet furrier biting my legs. 

She calls her furrier "mister Maulus", a name given to it by her late husband. She claims that it got this name because as a pup, it would always run away with the holoscreen remote and hide it out of her reach. She considers that electronic warfare. I would like to propose another explanation, related to the verb "to maul" and rabid furriers, but I restrain from making such comments seeing how fond lady Adelath is of her pet.

Lady Adelath has taken almost permanent residence on this cruise ship and knows all the gossip about the staff and the captain. She claims that the captain lost his crew and civilians that he had orders to evacuate, during the Triglavian war. He made a wrong decision, and is now consumed by guilt. Being not of the faith, he cannot be helped by the rite confession...

Table guests

I avoid the main restaurant. It is buffet style, and this seems to bring out the worst in tourists on the cruise. They feel they have to eat as much as they can, it is as if they want to digest at least the ticket prize worth of food. The display of gluttony is too much to take.

My capsuleer status saved me. I got an invitation to have dinner at the captain's table, which is in a fancy restaurant on one of the observation decks. I met some interesting people there. 

The captain is a Caldari Navy veteran by the name of Olkaanen. He appears neurotic - probably that is why he is no longer with the navy but flying a tourist boat. Something happened during the Triglavian war that jarred him, but it is not clear what. 

There was another guest with a Triglavian link: a Gallente mathematician, dr. Michel Setun. He specializes in ternary computing - in which numbers are not base-2 but base-3. So data is not just ones and zeros but also twos. Dr. Setun claims it is superior. He was assigned to a code-cracking team during the Triglavian war.

The third table guest was another Amarrian, and elderly lady, Dame Agatha Adelath. She has no remaining family (or perhaps she cut ties with them), and she spends her retirement on such cruises in order not to be alone. She was quite excited that an Amarr friar was around, she has been trying hard to accentally run into me ever since the dinner.

The Princess of the High Seas

Being used to Amarr ship designs, I find the Victorieux Luxury yacht to be a particularly ugly hull. Clearly, it is not built for those on the outside, looking at it - rather, it is built for those inside, looking out.

The Princess of the High Seas (oh so inaccurately named as it would sink immediately when it would try to land on any planetside body of water) boasts five observation decks - one with a large buffet restaurant. It also has four gardens, a beach hangar with cocktail bars, six holoreel theaters, a host of restaurants all themed differently, two shopping "avenues", and a planetarium. I consider the latter to be an insult to the universe; why  display the stars as small light spots in a dark room when you can just look outside? It is a bit like building a pool at the seashore; also that is an insult, but to the sea.

You may have guessed from the log entry thus far that I am a bit grumpy.

The cause of my grumpiness is that I am constantly disturbed while I am patiently waiting in my quarters till this cruise arrives at Mezagorm. Several times a day, staff from the entertainment crew comes to ask me if I do not want to join in some games or swimming or sports or whatever other nonsense they invent.