by Aer-ki Jyr
This was the 9th time he’d been able to do this in the previous days, and each time it seemed to get easier. As if he was soaking up whatever it was and starting to become part of it, or at least adapt to it. It felt like a cool breeze after a hard and exhausting workout, and sadly that’s the best description he could come up with. Paul had opened up a new sense, so there was no context to work with. He couldn’t explain to Cal-com what was going on, and even telepathic transmission didn’t work because his friend didn’t have the same sense, and thus the mental programs Paul was developing to handle it weren’t there to receive the information.
It was the same situation the Archons had been in when they’d unlocked Pefbar. Seeing in all directions at the same time was something their brains couldn’t handle until they developed new software to operate on. That came with the unlocked psionic, but try and pull a memory from someone with Pefbar and shove it in someone who didn’t have it and you’d quickly find that the memory would twist into something it wasn’t, or it wouldn’t take at all. There had to be some way for the receiver to process the sensory data, and if they didn’t have anything close then there was no context and no possibility of communication.
Paul did what he could to try and make Cal-com understand, but this was too radical for him to comprehend and he knew it, so the Voku didn’t press for information. Instead he tried to help Paul talk it through and analyze it for his sake, and he’d been helpful, but experiencing it was far better than discussing it, with the Archon losing himself in the dance that now had an extra element to it, knowing that Cal-com was on guard should any threats arise while he was distracted.
Little flakes of light would pass by every now and then, like motes of dust in the air as a ray of sunshine illuminated them, but these were moving on some type of currents, and if Paul wanted to burn a little he could latch hold of those currents and let them physically carry him along, or he could disrupt them and move them about like putting his hand in a stream or pond. There was movement everywhere, yet there was nothing. It was like a bright openness that could hold much, but currently held little.
And the more Paul stayed within it, the more his body changed. He could feel things sliding into place inside him, though the Regenerator couldn’t detect most of it. Paul thought it was probably more to do with his Core than his body, but his body would then take on aspects of his Core, possibly through his Essence in some way, but he hadn’t figured that out yet. In truth there was a lot he hadn’t figured out, but he now knew how to gain access to this second layer, even if it did take a few dozen minutes of prep work to get the right mojo in order for it to manifest.
He lingered in it for as long as he could, then it started to feel strained and he let it go rather than trying to forcibly hold onto it. The second layer disappeared and he was left dancing in the sand as something inside him popped…in a good way.
Paul felt a wave of fatigue hit him, and he knew it was time for his body to update again, so he spun to a stop and walked over to the shade under the trees where he laid down and closed his eyes, remembering to hit his biomonitor to mark the end of the timestamp, though it continued to record and transmit to the ship and Cal-com for review later.
Paul was almost asleep when the sound of the waves and wind cut out. He was curious and sat up to see what the change was, noticing that the distant horizon was foggy as an individual walked out from behind a nearby tree trunk and stood in front of him.
The Archon looked around, taking some mental notes for future use as he was pretty sure this was another vision even before the Zen’zat appeared.
“Been a while,” Paul said, not bothering to stand up from his seated position on the sandy dirt. “Do I get some answers now or are you just stopping by to say hi and run again?”
“Not as many as you would like, but your connection to the Saiolum has increased enough that I can force a connection for longer without damaging you. I have no current warnings to give. Your progress is steady and you are no longer being impatient. Ask some of your questions. I will answer what I can.”
“Who and what are you?” Paul said bluntly.
“I am real…not a vision. I once had a body such as yours, but I ascended into the Saiolum a long time ago. My Core is now rooted to it, and because of that I cannot die, but I also cannot communicate with others. I have no body and thus no physical connection. All I see is a shadowy reflection of the physical and the mental. That is why I can see your thoughts and those of others, but I cannot touch them. You broke through the barrier, essentially reaching out to me, and I returned the contact.”
“That answers the ‘what,” Paul pointed out. “Who are you?”
“I am of a race that no longer exists. We were called the Sha’kier, and our civilization rose and fell before Humans or Ter’nat existed. My name is Azoro Hikeer Mi’da’ruun.”
“How are you traveling?”
“An apt question. I can move through the Saiolum, but I have been riding on you for a very long time. Where you go, I go. Your physical position pulls me through the Saiolum similar to how you managed to pull your body a short distance earlier. When you travel between the stars, I am dragged with you.”
“Are you damaged?”
“No, nor am I fatigued. I do not have a body to register such things. The Saiolum sustains me similar to the way the air sustains you with oxygen. It is everywhere, deeper in some areas than others, but a planet such as this, or close proximity to a person like you, keeps it deep enough for me to exist within in perpetuity.”
“Explain the Saiolum,” Paul asked, not wanting to waste any of the apparently limited seconds in this conversation on small talk or trivialities.
“It is not your Essence. The Sha’kier had no knowledge of Essence, nor your self-sufficiency. We tried to prolong our lives through many means, but never could any of us live longer than 640 solar cycles. We would die, new generations born, as is the way of the universe, but only so much knowledge could be passed on in texts and training. Our civilization rose as far as we could in this manner, but we were capped. The Saiolum was our solution, and as you have just done, some of our people broke through the barrier and were able to sense it. Then use it. Our intergalactic civilization was based on the Saiolum, for without it we could not communicate with one another, among other things. Eventually we discovered how to transfer the attachment of our Core from our body to the Saiolum itself. When our body died, we survived, and through us the knowledge and experience of the Sha’kier continued on and the cap on our civilization was removed.”
“Where is your brain located? Your memories? Your skills? Your experience? Those should have been destroyed with your body.”
“The first ones suffered from that very problem, but not all is contained within the body. Some is contained within the Core, and that is not lost. We eventually learned how to take most of the rest with us, and even now my ‘brain’ is made up of constructions within the Saiolum. It is not the same, for I am using your brain to do many things right now that I cannot, but when connected to one, my full knowledge reappears. I was never meant to be without a body, and when mine died another was created for me. And another, and another. But we did not master this early. Until we did, we had to see through others, such as you, only to a far greater extent. And we could take control of them if necessary, and save them, in many cases. It was not until late in our civilization that we gained the knowledge to create avatars. Biologicals without a Core in them are tricky to construct, and we needed to connect and disconnect at will, but we eventually discovered the key.”
“Without knowing anything of Essence?” Paul asked. “Essence is what binds the Core to the body. What binds you to the Saiolum?”
“Most likely Essence. You do not have to understand or know of something in order to interact and use it. We learned a method and replicated it. Understanding was wanted, but not required. And where you have learned of Essence, you know nothing of the Saiolum. Nor do any in this galaxy that
I have found. You are as ignorant to it as we were to self-sufficiency. In hindsight we missed the obvious, and it still baffles me how we could be so blind…yet you are blind to Saiolum.”
“Explain it further.”
“Biological life creates it. Both those with and without a Core. It is an energy field much like your Star War’s Force, except it cannot be used to affect the physical. I am helpless to do anything unless there is a bridge. You are one such bridge, and I have been waiting for you to arrive for a very, very long time.”
Paul’s danger sense spiked, but the Zen’zat image raised a hand to wave off such concerns.
“I am a threat to you, because you have broken the barrier. Beforehand I could not affect you, nor speak to you in any way. I do not wish to possess your body, nor would I be qualified to use it. If I tried to do so now it would kill you. My people trained for more than 70 cycles to become conduits between us and our civilization, and it was the second greatest honor imaginable. You are a mere spec compared to them in this regard, and I do not seek to groom you into a replacement. Do not fear, I only wish to speak with you and help you through this transition. I had many teachers and regimens to guide me through it. You have nothing, and yet you have managed to spontaneously generate the breakthrough. I had started to believe it would not happen again in another race.”
“How many of you transitioned to this ethereal state?”
“I was the 217th, and there were 43 after me.”
“And how many Ska’kier were there?”
“More than we cared to count. Far more than your entire Star Force population combined, and spread over 28 galaxies with colonies in many more, such as this one.”
Paul’s jaw dropped. “What happened?”
“We fell, and when my Avatars were destroyed and there were no more Ke’lars to speak through, I was cut off from my people. I watched as they were destroyed and could do nothing about it. I could not die, and that has become my curse.”
“What about the others that are like you?”
“We are called Ju’en’xa, and I do not know where the others are. My position locks on them were lost when their Avatars or Ke’lars were destroyed. The Saiolum can stretch between individuals and maintain a conduit wherever they go. This is how we obtained instantaneous communication between galaxies, but the connection must be made in person, then the distance applied, or a splinter from an existing lock could be created. I had one to more than a third of the Ju’en’xa, but they were all lost. Where they are now I do not know.”
“Did you look?”
“Yes, but without a rendezvous point how can you find another? We have no standard communication to work with. We cannot touch technology. And we can only go where there is life enough to sustain the Saiolum. Our worlds laid barren afterwards, so I could not return to many of them. Those that I could held no Sha’kier with the ability to even remotely connect to the Saiolum, let alone a Ke’lar. I watched as the remnants of my civilization fell apart, forgot who they were, and eventually were ground into the dust of a forgotten history…”
8
“Civil war?” Paul guessed.
The image of the Zen’zat shook his head a firm ‘no.’ “The greater you rise in power, the greater a target you become to those who cannot face the reality of the universe. Their insecurity leads them to destroy all that doesn’t support their delusions. We always had enemies, but the ones that killed us came from outside our galaxies, and outside our patrol zones. They came from the unknown, and with a universe so vast that we cannot begin to chart it all, how can we monitor threats that we do not even know exist?”
“Who were they?”
“It’s best if you do not know their names. Ignorance is a shield, in some cases. But know that they are responsible for the scourge of the Hadarak, the Apocalypse Monsters, and many other obscenities that you have yet to encounter.”
Paul froze deadly still as the ramifications of that raced through his Sav-enhanced…and now otherwise enhanced…mind. “How old are you?”
“I have no way to measure time in the Saiolum, and during my travels I lost track of those who did, such as your Star Force. My age would be in the billions of your years.”
“So you predated the Hadarak?”
“Yes.”
“And you were in this galaxy?”
“We had a colony here, or to be more precise a series of colonies that operated as bases that allowed us to patrol this swirl of stars and to reach out further beyond. We did not own, nor defend this galaxy, but we did exist within it, though not I. I traveled here by piggybacking on the Hadarak, for there was no other way to cross the void after they consumed this galaxy and the neighboring ones. Those races advanced enough to do so were targeted early, and what you see now are mere peons in comparison…though I will give you credit for achieving more than that. Your Star Force is a seed that could grow into a great power one day, but if you do so you will become a target, though this is not new to you. Your history is a testament to overcoming such adversities, though never with any guarantees.”
“Wait,” Paul said, raising a hand for emphasis. “How much more time do we have?”
“Minutes.”
“Then I want to know how we are so far behind the more advanced races.”
“There are many facets to the universe. Essence was one that my race did not discover, in all of our time, nor did any we knew of. Likewise, there are facets that Star Force is unaware of. Many technological. In time, I will teach you some of them.”
Paul raised an eyebrow.
“I understand your skepticism,” Azoro said. “This is all new to you, but I have watched you and your empire for most of your history, and I have traveled with you for many thousands of years, watching your actions and your conscious thoughts, which are mirrored in the Saiolum. I could not touch your memories or interfere in any way, and even now I cannot probe your mind without harming you. But I learned from what you were thinking, what you did, and what others around you thought and did. I knew you might be on the path to the breakthrough, as I thought of others in the past. None of them got to that point before they were killed or turned away from a life of advancement. Yet you have succeeded, and I know you probably better than any other being in the universe, though I am a stranger to you.”
“So much for keeping secrets.”
“If you do not think them, they cannot be seen from the Saiolum. And I know that is not sufficient, so I will also teach you how to shield your mind from me and the others. It will take millennia for you to grow to that level, but it is possible. We Ju’en’xa exist as repositories of knowledge, experience, and skill for our race. My race is now gone, and I have been purposeless and imprisoned in the Saiolum for most of my life. Being able to speak to you is a luxury beyond measure.”
“You’ve been alone all this time?”
“Able to see others, but they cannot see me. Able to learn about them, but unable to teach. Able to discover, but not touch. In that way, I have been alone.”
“And you can’t die?”
“No. And I will not destroy myself, though that temptation is always near. I fear the others may have, or may have been caught on worlds rendered lifeless. If our current portion of the Saiolum dries up, we will die. The thin filaments that stretch between galaxies cannot sustain us, but those between most planets can. We can travel in this way between the stars, but we cannot go where there is no, or little life. If I wanted, I could catch myself on a dying world and end myself in this way, but I cannot leave the thicker areas of the Saiolum by will. It is not possible.”
“So the Saiolum is not everywhere?”
“Is not light everywhere in the universe? By similar measure so is the Saiolum, but the amounts out in the void are too small to matter. Perhaps there are some very dark areas where nothing exists and the Saiolum is not present, but I could not know that, for I cannot exist beyond it, and anywhere a person travels you create the Saiolum in and around you. That is w
hy I can travel with you across the stars, for your bubble sustains me.”
“If my ship exploded enroute, you die?”
“If the route is not thick enough, yes, so there is a risk in traveling, though the denser areas in the Core of the galaxy are free passage, as if a great sea containing everything there.”
“Including the Spring Points?”
The image of the Zen’zat nodded. “Though there is no life in them, the Saiolum is usually strong there.”
“You’ve observed them?”
“Yes.”
“And what do you see?”
“Cascades of energy and matter spontaneously appearing in a fixed point in space.”
“Relative to what?”
“Unknown. But this galaxy is correlated due to the fact that its matter most likely originated from the central point.”
“Central? Are there others?”
“Not within the swirl, but beyond it.”
“Where the Apocalypse Monsters lay in wait?”
“It’s far more complicated than that, but yes, there are ones deep in the void that I cannot get to, and dare not risk traveling to on a courier. I would be trapped for eons if they did not send another out. But we speak of irrelevant things. My time is short. Focus on more pertinent questions, for there will be another lengthy wait until our next conversation.”
“What plans do you have for me?”
“After viewing Star Force, I would describe my race as lightside-aligned. We did not hold to it as you do, but our natural inclination was one of building rather than destruction. Now that I have studied your philosophy, I find I am learning new things. You and the others are an anomaly within the dark universe, and I wish to aid you in your growth. You do not know the dangers ahead of you, but I know of many. When you finally seek to rid this galaxy of the Hadarak you will gain attention, but not much. Other things will make you more visible, and those I will caution you to conceal until you are ready…but you are not near them yet. Your breakthrough is the reason I am here now. I wish to be your Yoda.”