Getting a Technology System in Modern Day

Once the shield was online, Aron and Rina took a shuttle back to the surface of Mars. Both of them were exhausted after such a marathon mana manipulation session and, after a brief rest, they planned to officially begin touring the facilities on, and in, the planet. There were already a few million soldiers stationed there on their three-month duty rotations, but those rotations would gradually lengthen until the Mars base was staffed with permanent residents. The only reason it hadn’t already been a permanent duty station was because not all of the R&R facilities were complete yet.

And while there was perhaps nothing more dangerous than a bored soldier, stressed soldiers were at least a close second.

The tour would thus only briefly visit the areas of the base that would, once they were fully online, be designated as official rest and relaxation areas. Most of the week-long tour would be spent inspecting the vast automated factories that were nothing more than kilometers-long and kilometers-wide atomic printers capable of both conventional printing and runic engraving. Those were the most important, and most secret, areas in the Mars base and would drive the entire industrial chain that ARES and the TSF required to function as forces. There were others in the main asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter, but the production base on the red planet had a capacity that put all others to shame.

Mars was also just the first stop on a months-long program of tours and inspections, coupled with the implementation of runic shielding on other defensive positions. Most of Jupiter and Saturns’ moons were scheduled to receive shielding, as well as the planets Mercury and Venus, the moons of the outer system gas giants—Neptune and Uranus—and all of the dwarf planets and other objects of sufficient size in the Kuiper belt.

All of those would eventually be part of the Sol system’s defensive arrangements, though the outright construction was currently focusing on the Mars base, which would house the Sol system central command station. The rest would primarily be picket bases and fleet logistics depots, as well as home to eventual civilian industries such as refineries, smelters, and so on.

……

A few months later.

Despite the wishes of practically everyone, time continued its inexorable march from past to future, uncaring of what individual humans, or even humanity as a whole, were doing. And the time had finally come for the remnants of pre-imperial governments and their citizens to depart on their journey to frontiers unknown.

The empire, as it always did, had kept its word in both letter and spirit. Anyone who raised their head and looked up would be able to see the massive, city-sized ships waiting for their passengers and a stream of smaller craft flying back and forth from ship to cube, carrying load after load of stasis pods.

Over the previous months, which was more than a decade in subjective simulation time, the people who would be joining the exodus—willingly or not—had been training to deal with the realities of pioneering a colony on alien planets. But for the last month, the trainees had been released from their training to spend time with their families in a special area of the public VR that had been accelerated to a time dilation factor of 12:1. It had given them a full, and very generous, year in which they could set their affairs in order and bid their farewells.

That subjective year wasn’t just to bid their friends and relatives a fond farewell, though. The empire had used the previous months of Earth time to liquidate any belongings that hadn’t been earmarked as cubage to be brought with them—

and there was a lot of those, despite the generous mass and space allowance the “colonists” would be allowed—at fair prices. Then they had deposited the END in an individual numbered account at the Bank of the Universe, or whatever remained of it after paying any existing debts or other financial obligations.

Thus, the year was also to give them time to decide what should be done with their money. After all, it was highly unlikely that any of it would be of particular use to them at their destinations, but should humanity survive the impending arrival of the visitors, they would eventually reach the colonies that would be founded in this first diaspora. However, though it might not be of use once they reached their destinations, it still had to be said that the colony ships would become the first cities upon arrival. Thus, the people aboard them could use that money to purchase upgrades for their eventual homes, along with any luxuries they thought they might need.

Should their purchases exceed the cubage allotment for each individual, the more affluent among them could also buy spare cubage from other passengers, who may not have the funds after their assets were liquidated. And the empire kept a wary eye on all of those transactions to ensure that the well-heeled couldn’t take advantage of those who were less affluent than them.

Today was the day that the loading would finally be complete. Shuttle after shuttle had been in continuous operation over the last week, delivering loads of stasis pods to the cavernous holds designed to maintain them in the colony ships. The “farewell simulation” was shut down and everyone within forcefully logged out of it the moment the clock struck the designated hour. And it wasn’t only the farewell simulation that was deserted, either; the regular public VR was also a ghost town as everyone who could log out did so.

The first diaspora, as the talking heads and spox had finally settled on calling it, was due to depart in a few minutes, and everyone on Earth had, seemingly by unwritten and unspoken consensus, decided to see the colony ships off in person whether they personally knew anyone on them or not.

They all looked skyward as the shuttles made their final trips, the nonstop flood of craft slowing and thinning until it became a river, then a stream, then a creek... and finally, nothing remained in the sky save the massive colony ships.

The entire world fell silent and seemed to be holding its breath as those ships began ponderously floating upward in defiance of gravity, gaining speed as their altitude rose. They shrank, first to the size of cars, then to serving platters, frisbees, drink coasters... finally, they were nothing but dots against the backdrop of the blue sky.

Then, they disappeared from view.

Those watching the ships leave Earth had many thoughts among them. Some certainly thought it was the first black stain on the young Terran Empire’s record, others thought about the necessity of unity among the species, and still others didn’t care about unity or how history would see this day. They only mourned the leaving of their friends and family members, some, or most, of whom wouldn’t have gone if they had been given the option to stay.

But regardless of what the observers were thinking, humanity’s first diaspora had officially begun.