“I never said I trust or even like you, Julian,” she noted with raised eyebrows. “I was present for El’iadryov’s execution. For that, I freely admit seeing you as anything other than my son’s killer is difficult. He’d claimed once in confidence that you were under his command but I saw so much evidence to the contrary.”
Again, the emotions she was unable to hide flickered across Dryova’s diodes, betraying the impassive expression she wore. Julian said nothing, but noted at least that the pain and distrust she tried to hide was genuine. It proved nothing of her loyalty, but it did set his mind a little more at ease.
“I was the first to his side when his body was removed from the arena,” she continued. “Not only did I know El’iadryov no longer carried the Kyroibi, but I saw the ravaging effects of the disease and understood that he’d taken matters into his own hands. I correctly reasoned that my son had already transferred the Kyroibi to his unborn child. But not immediately.” She let out a low, mirthless chuckle. “For a moment, I even considered that the Kyroibi might have somehow transferred to you, as ridiculous as that sounds.”
“I do not understand why that sounds ridiculous.” Julian was well aware of the protocol in the event of the untimely death of the Kyroibi’s true master. “As I understand it, the Kyroibi would immediately go dormant and seek out the nearest Eidyn in proximity, regardless of personal relationship. Had El’iadryov still mastered the Kyroibi, I would have been the vessel tasked with returning it to the council.”
“Your lack of abstraction makes you an unsuitable candidate, Julian.”
There was no accusation or even disparagement in her tone. Dryova was simply stating what she thought was fact. Logically, however, Julian’s lack of abstraction would have made him better suited to carry the responsibility of Kyroibi transport because he would be immune to its power. Regardless, he had other, more pressing questions that needed answering before he decided whether or not he was going to trust Dryova.
“Fair enough, but how did you end up here, impersonating your sister?”
“As I said, Andressa was my burden to bear. I did what needed to be done and no one was the wiser.”
Julian raised his eyebrows. The confession was something of a shock and he conveyed as much, but Dryova continued as if she hadn’t noticed.
“Not even the most perceptive of Eidyn would notice that I was not my sister unless they had a reason to look closely. I continued where she left off, allowing Svoryk to believe he held control of the system. Meanwhile, I’ve done all I could to relieve the burden of enslavement without drawing attention to myself.”
It all seemed just a bit too convenient to Julian, but he had to admit, Dryova and Andressa’s unique connection allowed for such improbable conveniences. Still, he was not quite ready to trust her implicitly. After all, her appearance in El’iadrylline’s apartment was suspiciously followed by Svoryk’s arrival. While that could have easily been dismissed as due to Isaverlline’s panicked pulse trail, Dryova had yet to give him a reason to trust her fully.
“And yet, for all of my careful planning, here we are.”
“I beg your pardon?” Julian turned his head and for a brief moment, the mask slipped. Unfortunately, the confused emotions did not give him any clearer indication as to Dryova’s intentions.
“Had my son trusted me, I might have been better prepared to accompany El’iadrylline to Ia’na Eidyn. Presuming that is where she spirited off to?”
“It is,” Julian confirmed, barely suppressing the shame over his own miscalculation.
“Such an important moment wasted.” Dryova shook her head. “The child needs a mentor and there is nothing we can do, stuck on this inferior hulk while my own vessel remains uselessly back on Huptsov.”
“She will not be alone,” Julian assured, but said nothing else. The omission was not lost on Dryova, but she did not question him. “However, even a vessel as obsolete as this one should be far from the gravitational pull of Sol by now. Either we’ve been damaged, or Svoryk is laying a trap for El’iadrylline.”
“I assure you, Svoryk lacks the cunning required to lay a trap for a kitchen mouse. Even if by some miracle he did have a plan, the addition of a manual Huptsovian override protocol crippled this vessel,” Dryova spat as if the words tasted foul on her tongue. “Travel to Earth took us four times as long as would even the slowest unencumbered vessel.”
“I suppose then time is not as short as I expected,” he said with a wary sigh. They were stuck in space for more than a full Earth week. His own ship had made the journey in under a day and a half. Julian had grossly underestimated Svoryk’s foolish and egotistical paranoia. All he could do was try to use the time to convince Isaverlline to accept the truth and try to free the Eidyn crew without being detected. Neither would be easy, but Julian welcomed the challenge, if only to take his mind from the empty ache in his heart. “Perhaps this would be a good time to coordinate our proposed plans.”
Chapter 16
Calling the archive of information a library was grossly understating its value. No library on Earth, physical or virtual, housed anywhere near as much information. That she carried within her billions of years of accumulated knowledge was terrifying in its incomprehensibility, but Ellie did not have time to dwell. She felt her mind drift and suddenly she was weightless and insubstantial. She saw herself from several angles at once. Rather, she saw nothing more than the physical vessel, currently an empty shell. She was no longer El’iadrylline, daughter of Eidyn. She had transcended title and substance to become pure energy. An insignificant yet wholly necessary part of the universal collective.
History, thoughts, beliefs, everything that had ever been recorded, from the significant to the mundane, passed through and became a part of her being. She watched as the whole of her people evolved from the first instances of documented history. Billions of years passed in a fraction of calculable time. Ellie felt proud of the accomplishments she witnessed and understood at last why Earth was viewed as primitive. There was no war amongst the Eidyn people. No class disparagement or inequality had reared its ugly head in the countless millennia that ebbed and flowed before her.
Certainly, she could see now the lamentable hardships of Earth’s barbaric and primitive culture, but in the blink of an eye, the Eidyn were cast with a new and less flattering light. They had reached the limits as to what they could learn by staying on their cold and remote world. It was time to venture out and shape life among the stars, to become the new gods of the galaxy.
But what they found amongst the stars was most appalling. War, famine, prejudice, barbarism, greed… these were the concepts that awaited the Eidyn when they reached out beyond their home world.
And so the gods of the galaxy became vengeful.
They could not sit idly by and watch as violence flourished. In their disgust, the Eidyn found new purpose. They became the protectors of peace. Civilizations were carefully monitored and patterns were established. If the Eidyn detected a chance that irrationality would shape a peoples’ future, then it was their duty to ensure that future never came to fruition by destroying the star and moving on. Many generations would pass, many civilizations would be extinguished before the Eidyn people would take notice that not a single developing world was spared.
It was then that the people of Eidyn pondered their own origins. For they had discovered on all of the newly emergent worlds that conflict came before spoken language. That they had long passed the point of disappointment and had come to expect such volatility was a lesson they had failed to learn. Had they the means to travel to the origin of the galaxy, would they have spared their own ancestors or would they have eradicated a volatile and irrational civilization?
It was then that the gods of the galaxy grew a conscience.
They discovered within themselves the abstractive root, a means by which logic and reason could be bent and remapped on an axis of morality and ethics. This paradoxically intangible yet substantial and completely unq
uantifiable construct resided in each and every one of them, giving cohesion to the idea that all life had purpose and meaning, though the definition of such was to remain deeply personal and unique to the individual.
Finding at the core of their every rational and well-reasoned action a small measure of chaos was quite the eye-opener and the Eidyn became ashamed of what they had become. In atonement, all beliefs of superiority were bred from future generations. From that moment forward, they were gods no more. The Eidyn would be the benevolent servants of mankind.
And lest they one day forget and try to rise above their station, the Kyroibi was created. The burden of the past and the fate of the future would be shouldered by one, a legacy to pass along the ages, never to be forgotten, and never to be repeated. And should the balance be compromised, the one true master was gifted with the tools necessary to see to it that peace be restored.
At last, Ellie finally understood her role. She pulled back, selecting from the near infinite stream only that which was most important, and shuttered the door in her mind against the rest. It would always be there should she need it, until she relinquished the Kyroibi to her successor. But as she made to draw her collective consciousness back into her body, she was urged elsewhere.
She found herself suddenly standing in an empty, cavernous space that looked an awful lot like the main chamber of the temple, but without the legions of robot soldiers. A raised podium stood in front of her, emitting a soft glow, but Ellie paid it no mind. Instead, her eyes were fixed on the man who stood next to her.
By appearances, he was Julian, yet instinctively, Ellie knew he was someone else. He wore a loose fitting robe of a gossamer material over a shirt and trousers made of the same black, scaled material she had seen Julian wearing in her father's memory. Upon his chest, an array of colorful diodes denoted him a strategist of high regard within the long forgotten Eidyn government structure.
“El’iadrylline, daughter of El’iadryov, child of the T’al Eidyn, welcome to your birthright. My name is Rhymallian and it is by my orchestration that you are here today.”
His voice had a distinct timbre that was as similar to Julian’s as his appearance and for a moment, especially when he addressed her by name, Ellie had to wonder if she wasn’t transposing her own memories into the collective.
“You have been called upon to bear the burden of your ancestry,” he continued. “This is no small task. By now, you’ll have witnessed firsthand the events leading up to the creation of the Kyroibi. You will carry with you always the consequences of allowing feelings of superiority to overpower the responsibilities of an advanced civilization. Within you lies enlightenment, the manifestation of all forbidden knowledge, as well as the means to ensure our legacy is one of peace.”
Rhymallian turned and raised his arms. In doing so, the doors high above on both sides of the temple opened, revealing the automaton army, who marched down the stairs to take their places in perfectly uniform rows, just as they had been when Ellie arrived. As they made their eerily silent descent, Ellie’s eyes were drawn to the podium.
The diodes seemed to be in a standby mode, as if waiting to transmit important information. Her first instinct was to place her hand upon the podium, but two things held her back. First, she was certain that what she was experiencing was a memory. Rhymallian was no more than a consciousness living within the archive much in the same way her father’s consciousness resided in a robotic shell. And second was the fact that somehow she knew that the information was not written for her. She looked up again and found Rhymallian smiling at her.
“No, El’iadrylline, you will not be alone in your endeavor. I leave to you my legacy. My progeny, born not of conventional methods, but a marvel nonetheless. This man, though devoid of the abstractive root, will be a valiant commander and loyal protector who will obey you without question.”
Rhymallian again tilted his head upward and a lone figure stood in the open doorway. From so far away, Ellie could not make out the details of his appearance, but she did not need to. Already she could sense his familiar presence and that both comforted and devastated her. Descending with the same impossible silence as the legions of soldiers, Julian made his way to the front of the battalion. There was no hint of personality or recognition in his eyes as he made a stiff and formal nod to both Ellie and Rhymallian before turning to face the army under his command. Placing his hands upon the podium, the diodes flared in intensity for the briefest of moments before he became as stiff and lifeless as the soldiers before him.
Ellie had no time to contemplate the enormity of what she’d witnessed as Rhymallian was again addressing her.
“Many ages have passed between my ascension and your awakening, El’iadrylline. Every successive master alights in me a new elevation of pride for the children of my people. You, my child, are no exception, however in you, I sense the manifestation of tumultuous times. Your burden has been made heavier by those with weaker convictions that have come before you. The path of the Kyroibi is no longer set in stone. The choices you make will impact more than the future of our people. May the light within guide you, El’iadrylline, and guide your abstractions for the greater purpose.”
The temple faded, taking Rhymallian and the soldiers away, leaving Ellie alone once again upon the dais in the library. All around, the pinpoints of knowledge hovered like fairy lights, but without their earlier intensity. She sat up, comforted somewhat to feel the weight of her substantial self once again, but troubled by the weight of her thoughts. The Kyroibi had awakened in her many questions.
So she was to bring peace. Clearly, this meant she had a duty to stop Svoryk and restore the Ghowrn Federation to its former glory. Or perhaps even usher in a new and more balanced form of government. The goal was easy. It was the implementation and completion of this goal that still remained as mysterious as before.
And yet, despite the heavy burden and grave consequences, it was not the future of the galaxy that twisted Ellie’s heart and tore at her soul.
She found her father waiting outside the library. He said nothing, but he didn’t have to. Ellie knew that he’d been exactly where she was at one time. Well, almost exactly. There were certain matters that her father did not have to deal with that were weighing heavily on her mind. Not the least of which was the situation she’d left behind on Earth.
She didn’t need the Kyroibi to tell her that their first objective was to find Julian and her family. She could only hope they’d escaped Svoryk. She didn’t want to get her hopes up that her mother and Julian would work together, but she hoped that they’d both at least left her some clue as to where they would be. That she’d been gone now for several days did not help matters.
“We have to leave,” Ellie informed her father, grateful that the Kyroibi’s hum had finally silenced. She relished the clarity as she pushed it all aside. “Can you pilot the ship?”
El’iadryov frowned. “I very much doubt that the vessel you arrived in will accept my command.”
“Well that’s just great,” Ellie sighed. “How are we supposed to leave here?”
“I see no reason why your vessel would not respond to your commands,” her father noted with a quizzical look.
“That’s just it,” Ellie explained. “I didn’t pilot myself here. The ship was already preprogrammed and from the cryptic comments Julian had made, I assumed you were the one who set the programming.”
“Ah,” El’iadryov chuckled. “Forgive me Ellie. It has been some time since I had interactions with the humans of Earth. I’d quite forgotten the logical paths that are common at that level. Yes, I had planted the coding into your pattern alongside the Kyroibi as a way of both keeping back that which you did not need to be burdened with, but also to ensure your safe return here to Ia’na Eidyn. However, you will find that your dominance as the Kyroibi’s true master will override custodianship of all Eidyn built vessels.”
“Okay, but how am I going to… Never mind.” Ellie blushed, still uncomforta
ble with the use of the word dominance. “I guess I kind of forgot that star maps are part of the whole having the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy in my head deal.”
“I’ll just assume that’s an Earth joke,” her father said with a wide smile. “But to answer, your ship is intuitive. You needn’t even worry about accessing the maps. I don’t foresee any difficulties in communicating your destination,” he assured as he led her back down the steps to the massive temple doors. Once again, they swung easily open.
They stepped outside and Ellie shielded her eyes, amazed that the perpetually dusky sky seemed so bright after spending time inside the shadowy temple. She allowed her eyes to adjust for a moment, taking in the city that sprawled out in front of her. She no longer had to wonder what it had been like as a bustling metropolis.
Within the Kyroibi, she had seen firsthand the Eidyn children who studied at the temple before being let out to play in the square. She watched people travel short distances in airships that required no fuel but rather relied on careful manipulation of elemental density. She marveled as inventors praised one another for their advancements, rather than try to steal or profit from another’s ideas. There was no social or economic divide. All were equal and pulled their weight. It was an impossible utopia and it broke Ellie’s heart that it would never again see life, that the planet’s only noteworthy feature now was a collection of forbidden knowledge and the army meant to ensure it stays forbidden.
Arriving at the ship, Ellie had a moment of doubt. The smooth, seamless craft appeared as impenetrable as any fortress. But as they approached, she felt a small hum and realized that the link she’d established when she boarded the first time was still with her. Her hand seemed to act of its own accord as she transmitted instructions subconsciously.
This time, at least, she was prepared for the illusion of invisibility, though she found walking on an invisible floor was no easier even when she knew what to expect.
A Space Girl from Earth (The Kyroibi Trilogy Book 1) Page 16