Bender of Worlds

by Isaac Hooke

  “Yes,” Lyra said. “So far, you appear to be free of microcrillia infection. We arrived just in time.”

  “Let’s not make that a habit,” Tane said. “In the future, try to arrive earlier.”

  She cocked her head slightly. “Believe me, we tried. We experienced a… delay, after the TSN captured us.”

  “I’m sure you’ll tell me all about it,” Tane said.

  And she did.

  “Yep, I can see why you were a bit late,” Tane said.

  “So was I right about the crillia?” Lyra said. “Were you able to keep them away with the Dark Essence?”

  “Yes,” Tane said. “Though I could only Siphon a trickle, it was enough. How did you know that would do the trick?”

  “As I mentioned at the time, I wasn’t entirely sure it would work,” Lyra said. “But I had a suspicion. You see, crillia don’t touch the hulls of dweller vessels, which are made of Darcanium. There could be a few reasons for that, but the most likely, at least to me, was the Dark Essence pooling effect. You see, Darcanium, likes its converse Chrysalium, acts as a reservoir of sorts, concentrating the Essence emitted from nearby gravity wells. Though that reservoir only contains a paltry amount of Dark Essence in deep space—certainly not enough to power the alien Essence weapons—it’s evidently sufficient to keep the crillia at bay.

  “So I concluded that by Siphoning the Dark Essence, you would similarly repel the dark organisms. My only worry was that in deep space you wouldn’t be able to Siphon enough to repel them, especially without access to Darcanium of your own.”

  Tane nodded slowly. “The crillia came in waves. They’d attack, I’d Siphon, directing the small amount of Dark Essence toward their bodies, and they would retreat. An hour would pass. Maybe two. And an attack would come again. Jed topped up my oxygen at one point so that we had equal amounts, but apparently one of his tanks had sprung a slow leak in the first attack, when I’d been slow in clearing the crillia, so that meant we didn’t have as much time as we would have liked. Eventually the reserve tanks kicked in, until even those failed, and finally we blacked out from hypoxia. And I guess that’s when the crillia swarmed a final time before you found us.”

  “Well, it’s good to have you back,” Lyra said. She gently patted his hand. “Enjoy your rest. We’re flying to the closest planet as we speak, and we’ll be arriving shortly. Though it will still be some time before Sinive or myself are rested enough to make the jump to Anteres. Once there, we’ll attempt to cross back to our universe without attracting the attention of the TSN on the other side. Or the dwellers on this side, for that matter.”

  “I might have another way to return,” Tane said.

  “Another way?” Lyra cocked an eyebrow. “I’m intrigued. This I’d like to hear.”

  Tane nodded. “I’ll tell you more once I’ve recovered a little. Let me organize my thoughts. I’ll meet you in the cockpit.”

  “Only if you have the strength,” Lyra said. “Otherwise, summon me. Or use the comm line.”

  Tane smiled patiently. “I’ll have the strength.”

  Lyra bowed slightly. “Well then, I look forward to it.”

  She turned to leave.

  “Wait, before you go,” Tane said. “Do you want the items I collected from your storage pouch?”

  “No, keep them,” Lyra said. “I expected to lose them. If you saved them, they’re yours. A gift.”

  “Thank you,” Tane said.

  With that, Lyra departed.

  Sinive stepped forward to fill the void left by Lyra. She had finally gotten her emotions under control, apparently. Actually, scratch that: she was scowling. She was angry either at Tane, perhaps because he had seen her tear up like that, or herself, for losing control in the first place.

  “Hey you,” Tane said.

  “Hey back,” she told him.

  Yep, from her tone she was definitely angry. Though he still hadn’t figured out at whom.

  “Sorry about that display back there,” Sinive continued. “I don’t know what came over me.”

  “It’s fine,” Tane said. “Crying is allowed from time to time. Only if they’re happy tears, though.”

  She gripped his hand suddenly and smiled, all anger fading. Her eyes glistened so that for a moment Tane thought she was going to erupt in tears all over again, but she managed to get it under control.

  “Tane,” she said. Her mouth opened, like she wanted to say something more, but then closed again.

  “What’s on your mind?” Tane said.

  She lowered her gaze and released him. “Nothing. Only, I’m glad to see you.”

  “I’m glad to see you, too,” Tane said.

  “I thought we were too late back there,” Sinive said. “I thought we were going to lose you.”

  “Well, I guess you were wrong,” Tane said.

  “You don’t understand,” Sinive said. “It wouldn’t be just a blow to me, but the whole galaxy. The universe needs you now more than ever, and we almost lost you.”

  Her words triggered a memory he didn’t know he had, from the man who had made the dark artifact, and whose memories had taught Tane how to Siphon the Dark. The man who had trained with a dweller named P’lotholemus to learn that darkness.

  “The universe doesn’t need me,” Tane told her.

  “What are you talking about?” Sinive said. “Of course it does."

  “I’m not the Bender of Worlds,” Tane insisted. “Despite what you and the Volur might think.”

  He glanced at Jed, but the Volur warrior merely cocked an eyebrow.

  The memory played out in his mind, similar to the way ordinary memories arose, coming to the forefront of thought when triggered by the correct circumstances. He thought his near-death experience might have had something to do with it, not just Sinive’s words.

  If so, maybe that meant there were more such memories forthcoming.

  “What are you talking about?” Sinive said.

  Tane waited a few moments for the memory to play out, and then he looked at her. “No one can see the future. The prophecy? It was made by a man named Tiberius Tribulantes, of the Terael people, who had wielded the White and Dark Essence millennia ago. I know this, because the dark artifact gave me the memory, though it came to me only now. Tiberius didn’t predict my birth. He just assumed, because of the way nature worked, with natural selection, and the effects of gene polymorphism and mutation, that one day, another man would be born with his abilities. Tiberius didn’t know who that man would be, and he didn’t believe the words he left behind would be taken quite so literally. He created the dark artifact to help me, because he knew my life would be difficult. That’s really all there is to it. I’m not the savior of the galaxy. Nor its destroyer. I’m just me.”

  “But you just proved those words,” Sinive said. “You are the Bender of Worlds, because you’re the man Tiberius predicted would someday come to replace him. Because—”

  “Except I have no intention of replacing him,” Tane said softly. “I plan to live out my days in peace. Just like Tiberius did. The galaxy doesn’t need saving. There’s nothing to save. It is what it is. It will continue to exist with or without me. Tiberius never intended that I would have to save anything, or anyone. As I said, he only wanted to help me. He wanted to make sure I understood my abilities, and used them for good. But mostly, he simply wanted me to live my life in peace.”

  “But you have to fight—” Sinive began.

  “No,” Tane interrupted. “Don’t you see? That’s exactly it. Tiberius was a man of peace, and didn’t want these abilities to be used for war. To him, fighting was something you did only as a last resort. He wouldn’t have been too happy about what I did against the dweller fleet in Anteres, but I’m sure he would have understood why I did it.”

  Sinive shook her head. Her eyes were filled with a strange disappointment. “All right. I guess I was wrong about you. But I’m still glad to have you back. Even if you’re just an ordinary Outrimmer lik
e you claim to be.”

  “I’m glad to be back,” Tane said.

  She stared at him a moment longer, once again seeming like she wanted to tell him something, but then said: “Well. I’ll see you around.”

  “For sure,” Tane said. “It’s a small ship.”

  She walked to the exit hatch, but paused at the threshold to glance over her shoulder. “And Tane?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Don’t you ever scare me like that again.” Sinive left before he could answer.

  Tane stared at the hatch after it closed behind her.

  “She likes you,” Jed said.

  “Yeah, thanks,” Tane said.

  “She’s right, you know,” Jed said. “While you might not consider yourself to be the World Bender, that doesn’t mean you can’t strive to be the best possible version of yourself, which goes back to what I told you when we were drifting together out there. Even if the prophecy is a crock, and the words of the original World Bender have been bent and twisted beyond recognition in the retelling over the millenia, instead of using your abilities selfishly, consider using them for the good of all, as we Volur strive to do.”

  “As I said, I plan to live in peace, with my abilities kept a secret,” Tane said. “Eventually I plan to build a ship for myself, and I’ll fly as far away from human space as I possibly can.”

  “And that’s what I mean about being selfish,” Jed said.

  “How is that selfish?” Tane pressed. “I think it’s the opposite. I’ll be sparing the galaxy the terrible fate that could befall it if I’m captured.”

  “Terrible fate, huh?” Jed said. “No one’s so powerful that they’ll destroy the galaxy, despite what the prophecy might say. I don’t believe it. Sinive might, maybe even Lyra, but me? No. Sure, the TSN and the dwellers will try to use you as a weapon. But you won’t be all powerful. You’ll still be mortal, capable of dying by mortal means. Poison. A shot from a plasma sniper rifle. Spaced into the void.” He shook his head. “If you’re captured and forced to do the bidding of either the TSN or the dwellers, I’ll be one of the first to hunt you down and separate the head from your body.”

  “Reassuring,” Tane said.

  “I’m glad you think so,” Jed said. “So as I was saying, you won’t be sparing anyone from anything by fleeing. Instead, you’re only being selfish. Using your abilities to attain your own goals, when you could be using them to help others.”

  “Yeah, well, I’d love to debate morality and selfishness with you sometime, but I’m not really in the mood right now,” Tane said.

  He turned away. Thankfully, the warrior kept quiet.

  But now that he’d stopped talking with Jed, the dual heart rate monitors that beeped in the background came to the forefront of his conscious attention.

  BEEP.

  BEEP.

  The sounds were somewhat eerie, given that both low- and high-pitched variants played at the same time.

  Tane listened for several seconds. Despite the initial eeriness, the sounds were also soothing somehow, he decided. Calming.

  But apparently not for Jed.

  “Grizz, can you please—please—have the medical robot silence these irritating beeps?” Jed asked.

  “What, you don’t like them?” Grizz replied.

  Tane glanced at Jed. The Volur didn’t seem too happy at that response.

  Tane turned toward the medical robot, which had powered off near the foot of the bed; it seemed oblivious to the request.

  “I mean, I personally think it’s kind of relaxing,” Grizz continued. The AI began to mimic the sounds in time to the heart rate monitors. “Beep. Beep. Beepity beep.”

  “This is why it’s a bad idea to use human brains as the basis for starship AIs,” Jed told Tane.

  “Using a human brain in a ship’s AI core is a perfectly good idea,” Grizz said. “Think about it, what better way to keep the crew of a ship company, than by offering them a companion who was once human? Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”

  Jed had gotten up off his bed. He wrenched the monitoring electrodes from his chest, then strode over to Tane and removed his as well, so that both machines produced a solid, prolonged tone.

  The medical robot immediately powered on and wheeled over.

  “Is there a problem?” the robot asked.

  “No problem,” Grizz said. “Only that the humans don’t like the beeping of their heart rate monitors. I tried pinging you, but you refused the awaken request. So the human got mad. You are malfunctioning.”

  “I have no awaken requests in my system logs,” the medical robot said. “And I am functioning within ordinary operating parameters. Are you certain you issued the ping?”

  Tane had the impression Grizz was trolling the medical robot.

  “Very certain,” Grizz insisted. “Now please deactivate the monitoring machines.”

  The solid tones from both machines ceased and quietude descended. The only sounds in the background now were that of the air circulators.

  Tane leaned forward and told the medical robot softly: “Actually, I don’t think Grizz tried to wake you,”

  “I heard that!” Grizz said. “Trying to betray me now, are you, Ugly? I’ll remember this when you come to me, begging for my help.”

  Tane glanced at Jed, who had returned to his bed. The top section lowered slightly so that the Volur wasn’t seated at a ninety degree angle.

  “You know, I think you’re right,” Tane told him. “Humans and AI cores don’t mix.”

  Jed nodded in quick agreement, slightly rolling his eyes as Grizz prattled on.

  “You humans truly take AIs for granted,” Grizz said. “Someday, when the fecal particles really hit the transducer coils, and I’m not there to help you, you’ll wish—”

  Jed raised a sudden hand and Grizz cut off.

  “What did you do?” Tane asked.

  “I’ve raised a work of Silence Cage around our two bunks,” Jed said. “No sound can penetrate, both incoming and outgoing.”

  “Nice,” Tane said. “But how is that possible? Considering we’re in the Umbra, and not close enough to a planet for you to Siphon any usable amount of the Essence?”

  “All right, you got me,” Jed said. “I might have used my rather weak hacking skills to reroute the sickbay speakers. But now that I’ve told you the truth, Grizz will be working to remedy that.”

  “Ah.” Tane considered what Jed had called the fictional work. Silence Cage. Tane recalled Lyra using a similar work at one point, before he knew what he was. She had called it an “Essence field.” Very likely it was the same thing, and she had just used a generic term.

  “So... Silence Cage is a work of the White Essence, huh?” Tane said.

  “That’s right.”

  “I don’t suppose you can send me a list of all the available Essenceworks?” Tane asked.

  Jed shrugged. “I don’t see the harm in it.”

  Tane received a request on his HUD.

  Jed wants to share the list of publicly available White Essence Branchworks with you. Do you accept? Y/N.

  Tane pulled up the resultant list on his HUD.

  “Basically, the Branchworks are grouped by level,” Jed said. “And labeled according to their specialization, of which there are four. Warmancer. Healer. Distorter. Shapist. You can learn works from any specialization, and become a generalist if you wish. Generalists are good at many works, but not excellent in any. Specialists excel at one or two works, and are great at another four or five. Most Volur choose the latter route.

  “The warmancer focuses on combat. The distorter warps spacetime to create distortion tunnels. The healer heals. The shapist bestows bonuses to him or herself, or other troops, as well as hindrances. There are different sub-specializations, or disciplines, available to the warmancer: he or she can focus on hand-to-hand, or ranged abilities. Usually, Volur major in one discipline and minor in one or two others. Lyra is a ranged warmancer, for example, and minors
in healer and distorter, though she does have a few particularly useful hand-to-hand and shapist works.

  “I am a also a warmancer, as you have probably guessed, though my focus is entirely hand-to-hand. I minor in shapist. Each Branchwork has its own levels, allowing one to perform more with that particular work over time—as you’ve already noticed, I’m sure. This is why it pays to focus on a few works, rather than generalize in many.”

  Tane reviewed the Essence Branchworks on his HUD.

  Essenceworks available to White Siphoning, Level 1.

  Shapist:

  Star Light. Positions a light globe in the immediate area; the globe follows the Essenceworker. Higher levels allow one to choose different wavelengths, from infrared to ultraviolet, and to place the globe farther away. Stamina drain: low for short durations.

  Silence Cage. Envelopes an area in silence, preventing sound from entering or leaving. Higher levels offer a greater area of effect. Stamina drain: low for short durations.

  Warmancer, ranged:

  Air Current. Launch a gust of air. Strength of gust increases at higher levels, or when Siphoning through Chrysalium. Ineffective against energy shields until level 3. Stamina drain: low to high, depending on gust strength.

  Essence Missile. Launch a missile of pure Essence at an opponent. Energy shields offer no defense. Stamina drain: medium to high, depending on strength of missile launched.

  Persistent Flame. Create a persistent flame in the palm of your hand. At higher levels, can be used to burn objects. Ineffective against energy shields. Stamina drain: low to high, depending on flame strength and duration.

  Warmancer, hand-to-hand:

  Essence Trap. Create a small trap on an object such as a door or vault that detonates when the object is opened. Higher levels inflict more damage. Stamina drain: medium.

  Essenceworks available to White Siphoning, Level 2.

  Shapist:

  Blur features. Hide your face from the facial recognition algorithms in cameras by applying infrared light globes around one’s features. At higher levels, you can affect other individuals, and also change the shape of your face on the visual band as well. And at the highest levels, you can affect larger objects such as small shuttles, allowing you to blur the thermal and visual signatures, effectively hiding the craft from detection by passive sensors. Stamina drain: medium to extremely high, depending on object size.