[[WIDE SWEEP DIAGNOSTIC RESULTS]]
WATER: 123%
HYDROCARBONS: 105%
SULPHUR: 100%
SILICON: 110%
PHOSPHATES: 118%
MINOR SUBSTANCES: NOMINAL
------------------------------//------------------------------
ALL SECTORS RESPONDING - TELEMETRY NOMINAL
STAR DISAGGREGATOR CORTEX ON HOLD
MEMORY CONFLUX LOADING ERROR
RAREFACTION CELLS OPTIMAL
[[PROCEED?]]
[ Y / N ]
INITIALISING...
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"One's return is as inevitable as the death that preceded it; though a mere moment, the intermediate period as the cycle rewinds is one's greatest opportunity to rest."
This is widely considered an outdated teaching, if accurate at all. It was only uttered to one student aeons ago by his master, an unnamed philosopher of the pre-revolution era. Personally, I don't mind it. The sentiment it provides numbs the sinking feeling of waking back up.
Fading in was relaxing - the panic I felt earlier could be put behind me. My body felt clean. My joints were free of tension, and my shell hardened. My vision blinked on, presenting a familiar faceless entity before me in a sterile plated room. The wires from my back gave a slight tug as they floated around in the anti-gravity. The Ancient operating my systems was shivering slightly. Probably sweating bullets under that brass mask.
"Good morning, administrator," I said to it. It sighed at the sound of my voice and almost collapsed in relief.
"Iterator startup confirmed," It spoke into a holographic terminal, "Speaking is Six Courageous Silences of Immunity, Primary Administrator of the Temple of River's Origin. Can you tell me your name?"
"My name is Nebulous Hand, first and only Iterator of the NH Launchsite local group. Tasked with developing and maintaining high-altitude satellite communications. Located on South Anchorite Island. Shipments by rail from the north, hybrid void fluid and fuel production facilities located in-house. May we get to work?"
Silences looked up at me, considering my response, "Not quite... what else?"
"What else?"
It grumbled and noted something. "You are a Starcatcher, not just an Iterator. You must also capture and process star fragments for energy production and manufacturing purposes. Because the resource is lacking in the southern hemisphere, demand will be quite high initially. Furthermore, the sparse islands in the area mean your location is suboptimal for star acquisition, so you must give them some assistance on descent. You are familiar with this to some extent, correct?"
I was not familiar with this to any extent. I did not inherit any preloaded memories, only those from my previous lives which, to everyone's knowledge, is not normal for an Iterator. An Iterator's biological components lack the uniformity to act as a single entity, so we are considered to be effectively immortal and do not experience the cycle in the usual manner. Rather, an Iterator slowly decays over millenia or is forcibly destroyed and then ceases to function while its individual components are trapped in the cycle. Aside from me, for a reason that evades even myself. There is some variation cycle-to-cycle, however, hence my confusion.
"Yes, I am familiar," I lied, "Apologies for the misunderstanding, administrator. I am still becoming accustomed to my systems."
"Understandable," it said, "You are considerably larger than the average Iterator so some time to adjust is expected."
The time was appreciated. I did need a moment to adjust to not being on fire. As many times as I've done it, I can never get used to coming back from the dead. Every iteration of my life I have woken up in this room, attached to this umbilical, with this ancient in front of me. Every iteration of my life my creators abandoned me and left me alone on this island. Every iteration of my life I spent hundreds of years serving the world around me only to be killed by the people I trust most.
I have done this twelve times before. I'm not letting this happen again.