WEBVTT - From All Ruin

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<v Speaker 1>Following the production of my art raining. This episode contains

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<v Speaker 1>depictions of strong violence, drug use, and sexual coercion. A

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<v Speaker 1>second oil rage. I'd barely climbed out of the airlock

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<v Speaker 1>well before the proteus suit disgorged me. It opened up

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<v Speaker 1>like a great clam and spilled me out onto the

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<v Speaker 1>dive room floor. I glanced back just in time to

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<v Speaker 1>see the armored shell cave in on itself, melting back

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<v Speaker 1>down the well as a column of slime, warning security breach,

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<v Speaker 1>Please proceed to the nearest, coated in a patina of

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<v Speaker 1>alien fluid. I rose to a crouch and marked the

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<v Speaker 1>rhythmic blinking of alarm strobes, the smell of blood over

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<v Speaker 1>by a cluster of lockers, The dive boots of a

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<v Speaker 1>corpse poked out from behind an overturned bench, A smashed

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<v Speaker 1>graph ink pro lay by its side. Hoffman, I rose

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<v Speaker 1>to my feet and took a cautious step forward. The

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<v Speaker 1>severity of his wounds made me grimace. Blood and hemorrhaged

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<v Speaker 1>brain tissue pooled beneath his shattered skull. A burn in

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<v Speaker 1>the shape of a human hand branded his upper face

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<v Speaker 1>and forehead. It wasn't the work of Triton or neread.

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<v Speaker 1>It could only be the other, the void walker, the

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<v Speaker 1>thing that wore veils consciousness as a mask. I studied

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<v Speaker 1>his frozen expression, his eyes brimmed with vacancy. Did the

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<v Speaker 1>thing wear Hoffman? Now, I wondered? Did it? Rushed aboard

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<v Speaker 1>a departing sub with his face his communit his we

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<v Speaker 1>have a story for you. What had happened here? While

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<v Speaker 1>I hunted for Bouklan and apathists tested their handiwork something

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<v Speaker 1>from the outside, something nearly mythic, even to the Triton's

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<v Speaker 1>lashed out at both surface and deep. In doing so,

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<v Speaker 1>it framed me and, by extension, dux itself. My escape

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<v Speaker 1>only cemented the presumption of guilt. What version of the

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<v Speaker 1>truth would it bring to the surface? In Hoffmann's guise,

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<v Speaker 1>I could guess its ends might be uncertain, The methodology

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<v Speaker 1>was clear, So division set uncertain allies against each other.

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<v Speaker 1>What better place than here? I checked the lockers and

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<v Speaker 1>found a dive knife. It wasn't engineered for zero spin throwing.

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<v Speaker 1>It didn't sharpen at my touch, but it would do

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<v Speaker 1>the job against all but one. I stepped over Hoffman's

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<v Speaker 1>body and left him for the inevitable clean up crew.

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<v Speaker 1>The room's only door unlocked and slid into the wall.

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<v Speaker 1>At my approach, triggered by Jack's communit, a vacant corridor

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<v Speaker 1>opened up before me. Blinking emergency lights played off the

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<v Speaker 1>naked pipes and wires. I knew what I needed to do.

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<v Speaker 1>I knew what Veil would have done. I had to

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<v Speaker 1>bring the truth back to the surface. It might be enough.

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<v Speaker 1>I wormed my way through the vacant halls. I followed

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<v Speaker 1>the blood past body after body, Land spoke and recombined

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<v Speaker 1>the like dismembered with unmistakable precision, though none of them

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<v Speaker 1>bore the Burnemark Hoffman head. They slumped against walls and portholes,

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<v Speaker 1>all reduced to the same lifeless meat. I felt the

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<v Speaker 1>tug of the black drug's absence as I passed the

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<v Speaker 1>first crew cabin cluster. I wondered if they'd had time

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<v Speaker 1>to search my room, where there's still two vials of

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<v Speaker 1>Basilisk tucked away in my bag, an umber black blade

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<v Speaker 1>wrapped in a spare shirt. If I could just tighten

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<v Speaker 1>my will and reactions, upgrade my weaponry, then a head

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<v Speaker 1>a hatch flew open, and two Youdex security guards slumped

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<v Speaker 1>out into the hall, entangled in sensual embrace, hands pawing, searching, lips, frothing.

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<v Speaker 1>They hit the opposite wall and slid down to the floor.

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<v Speaker 1>Fetis emerged behind them. I ducked down a converging hall

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<v Speaker 1>and froze against the bulkhead. I readied the knife in

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<v Speaker 1>one trembling hand. Now I didn't have to see to

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<v Speaker 1>know good. My breathing is too loud. My heart, I

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<v Speaker 1>knew she'd hear me, reach out to my mind before

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<v Speaker 1>I could strike. I was no match, not like this.

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<v Speaker 1>Closer and closer. Another door rolled open. When it closed,

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<v Speaker 1>I moved. I leaped over the two doomed guards as

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<v Speaker 1>they chewed into each other's faces, moaning with the cross

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<v Speaker 1>wired pleasure of mutilation, eyes rolling back like something from

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<v Speaker 1>the poles of Hell. I didn't look at that. Yeah,

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<v Speaker 1>m hmmm, Ladies and gentlemen, Peter Booklem, thank you, thank you.

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<v Speaker 1>I know you've heard a lot of great speakers today.

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<v Speaker 1>You've heard a lot of amazing ideas about how we

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<v Speaker 1>can change course, how we can harness the forces of

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<v Speaker 1>innovation for a better world, for brighter tomorrow. And no,

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<v Speaker 1>I don't mean deeper oil wells. I don't even mean hydrothermal,

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<v Speaker 1>which I realized is something of us prize coming from me.

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<v Speaker 1>I do believe that's the future of energy. It sustained

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<v Speaker 1>the Triton's from millennia, and it can do the same

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<v Speaker 1>for all of us. But now what I want to

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<v Speaker 1>suggest to you goes beyond even benign exploitation of our

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<v Speaker 1>planet's resources. Today, I want to talk to you about

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<v Speaker 1>the science of despeciation, the necessary process by which two

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<v Speaker 1>species become one. Depis the horrible transt. They'll call me

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<v Speaker 1>through our word later tomorrow. Want this silent later written

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<v Speaker 1>a word on traditional specifical well Satis patrols persons around yan.

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<v Speaker 1>I cut through the bazaar. Its empty alleyways, wet from

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<v Speaker 1>the rain of sprinklers, A burned out fry shop and

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<v Speaker 1>a looted storefront told me all I needed to know.

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<v Speaker 1>A worker lay in two halves beside a glitching tero machine.

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<v Speaker 1>Empress and scepter flashed across the blood splattered screen. I

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<v Speaker 1>pushed on through the alley of saints and oceanic gods,

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<v Speaker 1>their altars washed in the blood of their last attendance.

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<v Speaker 1>The triton shaped bust of mother hydra lay toppled and

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<v Speaker 1>shattered across the grated floor. There was still no theetis

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<v Speaker 1>to block my path, but she knew where I'd go.

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<v Speaker 1>If not my quarters, then the subs I sprinted the

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<v Speaker 1>remaining lengths of hallway, ignoring my wound, more blood, more

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<v Speaker 1>abandoned gear, and baggage, to mark an increasingly frenzied evacuation

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<v Speaker 1>footprints in the gore A technician clutching a dive knife.

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<v Speaker 1>There's spinal column laid bare. Please proceed to the nearest

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<v Speaker 1>evacuation hub. I reached the docking station module. The door

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<v Speaker 1>rolled aside to grant me entrance, and there it was

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<v Speaker 1>one remaining docked vessel, the very Gladious class sub I'd

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<v Speaker 1>arrived on, and no fetis. I ran across the cargo bay,

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<v Speaker 1>weaving among its stacked and sordid crates shipments from the

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<v Speaker 1>surface compressed garbage tubes bound for return. I shot into

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<v Speaker 1>the Gladious sub's open cargo bay and slammed the manual

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<v Speaker 1>switch to close it behind me. Please, great community, The

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<v Speaker 1>great door rolled into place, and I caught one last

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<v Speaker 1>glimpse of Atlas station alarm lights gleaming in trails of blood,

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<v Speaker 1>and just a hint of movements before the door blocked

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<v Speaker 1>my view and the locking bolts shot home. A pale pursuer.

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<v Speaker 1>Welcome passengers are Hanka Jacks. I stalked across the empty

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<v Speaker 1>cargo hold to the crew module. Even without my own community,

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<v Speaker 1>the automated system would recognize Jacksons and follow evacuation protocol. Okay.

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<v Speaker 1>I opened the door and saw two blood smeared communits

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<v Speaker 1>on the cot, and she stood beside it. Blonde hair

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<v Speaker 1>fell to shoulder length, the jeans and jacket of a

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<v Speaker 1>surface pedestrian now soaked in gore. She held one human

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<v Speaker 1>arm out to the side, blood still dripping from the fingertips.

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<v Speaker 1>My knife hand tensed the muscle, memory of training and instinct.

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<v Speaker 1>It would have given me a chance against any other

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<v Speaker 1>foe veil. She turned casually, as if this was but

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<v Speaker 1>a social call. She regarded me with those same eyes,

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<v Speaker 1>flawlessly human eyes. I know you're in there, I know

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<v Speaker 1>you're more than just a mask. We can stop this.

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<v Speaker 1>Why would we stop it? It wants us at war

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<v Speaker 1>with each other, at war with ourselves, wants only silent death,

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<v Speaker 1>no life across a billion world, silence in the mind veil. Tabitha,

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<v Speaker 1>you came for the truth, a message of change. Her

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<v Speaker 1>face twitched, her eyes trembled. I want to try it. I.

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<v Speaker 1>Her flesh loosened like an unraveling shroud, dry membranous wings

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<v Speaker 1>of indeterminable shape, shredded her blood soaked clothes, and fanned

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<v Speaker 1>the stagnant air of tune and all ruin. Within the

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<v Speaker 1>whirlwind of flesh, I caught the scarcest glimpse of its

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<v Speaker 1>true form, the thing that lurked beneath the layers of semblance,

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<v Speaker 1>and enacted it's inhuman will. It's because your mind's had

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<v Speaker 1>a turning place. The eyes were still veils, but the

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<v Speaker 1>swirling tissue was already reforming in the likeness of a

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<v Speaker 1>woman's bloodied and bruised rows of horizontal black bars tattooed

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<v Speaker 1>over scalp, forehead and throat the one who would deliver

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<v Speaker 1>its message. You're stronger than this thing. You're the one

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<v Speaker 1>who believes. I know you can resist. She moved, and

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<v Speaker 1>I felt the burn of her palm against my forehead.

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<v Speaker 1>And history is a spiral m m m M. The

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<v Speaker 1>second oil age was produced by Robert Lamb Alex William

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<v Speaker 1>Slowen's Vogel Bomb and Josh Than. This episode featured on

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<v Speaker 1>Joe Masters as SnO Khan, Lauren vogelbaumb as Tabotha Veil,

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<v Speaker 1>Helen Lorn as Thetis, and Nicholas Dacosti as Peter Gluckman,

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<v Speaker 1>supporting voice work by Gina Rakii and Josh Clark intro outro,

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<v Speaker 1>and supporting music created by a weird in Module. Learn

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<v Speaker 1>more at Module dot dom camp dot com. Mm HM

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<v Speaker 1>from more podcasts from my heart Radio, visit the I

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<v Speaker 1>heart Radio app, Apple podcasts or when I may listen

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<v Speaker 1>to your favorite shows