by M E Wise
We leave the sand and find a solid road beneath, leading to the towers base offset by a plateau to the east slightly. The Cathedraline could fit in its base alone! I spotted a place to stop the skiff and made way for it. Not a single insectae that didn’t fly was within a thousand feet. It neared dusk but the design of the tower seemed to embrace and use the light. The first level was a series of columns and supporting arches. The tone receded the further into the tower we moved. I stall the skiff and slow to a stop. Dalia and Hermes proceed slowly. Something inside them must be heavily impending their drive. I link but they are silent and daunted. Dae remained close by.
The stunner on my wrist wasn’t necessary here but myself and Dae donned them anyway. “Is there a way up?” I asked out loud. My voice echoed off the two-hundred-foot high ceiling. This place made me feel very small. “I think there is a spiral staircase toward the center.” Dae drew my attention to a central column much larger than the rest. “You trample on history.” Graveled Hermes. “You walk in the garden of history!” The voice of Sal Tah’l came through angrily. “Suppressing collective variance.” Hummed the full voice. “The Spire of Life, of Truth, of Light is forfeit to time.” Expressed Poh’n Tah’l nearing the towers center. “Suppressing collective variance.” Again corrected the machine.
“What is going on with the creepy robot?” Shuttered Dae.
“I don’t know.” I said proceeding forward.
“They climbed like invading vines. Into the spire. Higher and higher. Before the weeded Sori.” Came a distinctly new voice from Hermes. The fifth and final collective personality. “Come the words of Bogg.” Said the voice pitchy nasally and deep. “Suppressing collective variance.” Dalia wouldn’t move any further. “I am not meant for here.” She looked on. I stood in the entrance and looked upward toward the climb ahead. Giant butterfly with four feet wingspans flew quietly in and out of the lower levels. “Do we go further?” I offered my hand to Dae. Unafraid she took my advance.
“Stay here with Hermes!” She said to Dalia. Dalia nodded in acknowledgment but fearful.
We climbed upward for a few minutes. We could see Dalia and Hermes shrinking below through a lattice work of polymer. Mor’h stairs were much less rigid and tall like Earthen design. They were more like a rising foothold for smaller more shortened feet. We were careful not to slip. I signaled a link to Dae and she agreed. I found her mind racing but she was still in control. I could provide her a greater sense of my own comfort levels. This would probably lessen the angst we both would develop alone. She felt relieved to do this, the two of us walking into the unknown together was a theme of ours.
Arriving at the next level there were more enclosures than open space. The ceiling also compressed to a much lesser degree; twenty feet high by my guess. Fanning lines with carving and paint flowed from wall to wall. “This looks like a phylogenetic tree Reign!” Dae said excitedly. “Look at how there is a starting point here and a simple smudge leading to these small notches and groups.” She moved ahead. “And over to here! They continue and increase in complexity and branching!” She was noticeably excited. “I think we are looking at a hall of records.” I said. She wholeheartedly agreed.
“Why would they hide this? Abandon it?” I pondered to her.
We moved to the edge of the tower on this level. The entire level was enclosed with a plexi-like glass for preservation from the elements. The view was amazing! We held hands and admired the dangerous desert, so serene from this height. We had barely climbed a seventh of the tower. “Imagine the view from the pinnacle!” I stressed. Dae smiled wide. Again at center was our way up. Only it was an elevator similar to the one at the Cathedraline. It lit up as we approached. I could feel the link shiver up my spine. “Link signature driven!” I noted to Dae.
“Should we go up yet or see to our companions?” Dae paused and addressed the dying light. “We should probably see to them.” I concurred and we began making our way backward. We arrived at the base to find Dalia and Hermes had moved the skiff closer to the center. They had begun offloading supplies. I linked briefly concerned they planned on leaving us behind. Their intentions were noble, Dalia was still oddly reluctant to be here and the Hermes collective had righted all of the directory variances in some consolidation of resources. That link was cold.
“They aren’t leaving us.” I explained to Dae. She looked relieved. The loosened sand began to blow in large clouds. “Maybe we would fare better in the enclosure above!” I suggested. Dae seemed on board. Dalia was again slow to consider it. Hermes after being strangely effected loaded a significant bundle onto his frame and began to ascend. Dalia followed with a rucksack in hand. “Onward then.” I said to Dae who was also aware of the strange nature of Mor’h culture being exhibited here. We too grabbed some gear and moved up out of the approaching dust.
The tower remained brightly lit in a pale blue light even at night. Dae and I made holo video and took images of the evolutionary walls. A couple of apsidal spaces held something like displays of ancient fossils. The Mor’h had at one time held a similar romanticism for preserving artifacts like human-kind. One couldn’t deride that from their current level of existence. It is as if they all at once picked up and forgot the whole concept for a more rigid and controlled society. We grew tired like students would after a long day of lab-work and study. Dae and I made a comfortable joint sleeping area and bedded down for the night.
The sounds of wind serenaded us to sleep. Tomorrow we would venture higher. Tomorrow would unveil so much more about our hosts. Why did it not happen sooner? Dae kissed me firm on the lips as I wandered in thought. “I love you.” She said softly. “I love you more.” I said drifting off to sleep.
Sovereign Chapter 5
Soul to Take
The sun dominated the first floor by design. It was as if the architect built the structure with a guilty conscience. There was no place to hide and the light was central focus like a constant judge of the content therein. Dae had risen without waking me and had obviously been straight to work. “Your mate is above.” Hermes addressed me as I sat up and wiped the night from my eyes. “Is she alone?” I stressed. “Her Mon’Mah assists her.” I briefly let my senses link outward and received the familiar note of Dae’s mind. I relaxed some.
The Hermes collective would have seemed to have remedied the errors it had the day prior. “What is your level of efficiency today?” I asked with a yawn. “Our collective is intact and apologetic. There was some internal incompatibility with matrix cohesion. A symptom of local link absent the greater connectivity.”
“In our isolation from the greater Mor’h, your collective had separation anxiety?” I questioned.
The Hermes unit cycled lights. “In a sense. A root failure caused some internal discourse. The collective is five individual essences programmed to represent each as if they were one, still allowing those once living personalities freedom of expression.” Hermes again cycled with rhythmic hums and light. “The issue is resolved with suppression of emotional variances.”
“It gets crowded in there I guess!” I said knocking on his metal and polymer head with a ping. “That is the sense.” Hermes parroted human humor. The way the Duraframe’s head hung when mounted was unique. It seemed to mope as the neck sat flexible and the skull more boxed in the rear. The elongated features added to the effect. Essentially the stoic look of the unit coupled with the Hermes collective was a fine match. “Hermes keep our area secure. I am going upward.” I said gathering my stunner and some water and ration packs in a sling. “Parameter is clear. Zoning established.” Hermes went into a diagnostic sleep mode as a light bar under the chest plate at the collar traced back and forth.
I did not find Dae on the floor above. She must have had Dalia use her link signature to use the elevator up. I did find the area between floors quite breath taking. The Mor’h architect had apparently kept nature in mind when creating this masterwork. Between levels were open gardens carefull
y planted for aesthetics. Some fountains had run dry. The pathways were not kept and their leaves crunched underfoot. The morning air chilled the space. I breathed deep filling my lungs and taking in the view. I had climbed another forty or so feet from the level below; hundreds of feet above the sands.
I watched a mammoth butterfly land on a basin and drink from a pitcher plant. I could bathe in its girth only to be digested slowly. The plants on this level held secrets in their beauty. Some benign orchid relatives with their breather roots were growing everywhere. They were the innocents hiding the cobra lilies and flytraps; the predator flora. It would seem this garden was a warning of sorts. A warning that evolution can turn necessity into violence. Struggle, into adaptive survival. Nature would always find a way.
I could hear whispers and muted music above me through careful planned slices of transitions of rounding stairs into the ceiling turning ceiling to floor. “Dae,” I called pleasantly. The voices quieted. “Dae?” I called again. “Here my love!” She sang out. It was a relief. She had a symphony orchestra playing on a small device. It was quite nice in the acoustics. “Clint Mansell’s live performances,” she said! “He helped me survive college.” She quipped of the music.
“If the first floor was a tree of life then the fourth floor would have to be some memoriam to accomplishment. And as the saying goes, ‘He who wins writes the history.” She stated ceremoniously. “The Mor’h have been very busy for nearly two million years. Haven’t they Dalia?” Dalia poked her head above some tablature. “Learning. A past not my caste.” She went back to her study. This floor was a library and gallery. As before this level was enclosed and a pattern seemed to emerge. “This building is like layers of growth. Rock to growth. Growth to society. And so on I’m willing to wager.” I claimed.
“That isn’t too far from the truth honey bunny!” Dae happily touted. She seemed to be deep in her element. “Did I tell you anthropology is one of my favorite hobbies? No!” She continued. “It’s far more boring than life in a lab but they are close bedfellows.” She passed quickly with a peck on my cheek. Her hair was in a careless topknot held together with writing utensils. “A person could spend a lifetime in this level. A lifetime!” She motioned around. “Tea?” she offered.
Dalia and Dae had set up a makeshift camp in a cove of this grand reserve just off the main stairs. The furniture throughout was in tune with the architecture. High-backed chairs subtly mimicked a sloping hosta group. The sofas were smooth and gently curved like petals. Rows of bookshelves ducked out of view at mid waist. Each area enclosed and encapsulated a period in their history themed and organized. Images had faded but were still comprehensible. The floor was vast with another grand central column at center.
“Anything revealing?” I asked to a laughing cough! “Revealing!” Dae scoffed. “Let’s start with where we are. This place is called The Cresche-too similar to dismiss its human relative word in crèche meaning nursery or even better the stable for holding Christ in the Christian faith!” My brow furrowed. “I don’t think that is a connection though.” She defused a confusing tether. “I just found that interesting. But for some reason Earthling and Mor’h held a similar word for the exact same ideal. Preservation.”
“Their history was one of consistency.” Dae said to no surprise. “At the time of sentience the Mor’h of old held to their roots. They simply took in the world around them and studied the stars and consumed nature, nature consuming them apparently too. A competing species, however, was an aggressive breeder and made resources scarce in the soil.” Dae took a breath and handed me a holo. “Then one day they just uprooted and moved. I mean they literally stood up and walked away en masse. An exodus of sorts. The Sori, the other species; continued to press for dominance by nature. Here!” She pointed at a blurred image that had a re-imagined rendition of it in the joining frame.
The Sori were very odd looking. They were slightly smaller than Lo’Mor’h and very tertiary in shades. More interpretations were available as I slid screen to screen. Some were depicted with glowing red eyes, others with no visible eyes at all. Many scenes shown them menacingly grouped tightly and suffocating space around them. Fernlike would be a good description. Their appendages were like unrolled fronds. The leafing disguising their forms was thick and daunting. “Weeded Sori.” Coldly stated Dalia. She briefly linked and shared her disdain. It was a natural hate, born of a prejudice to survive.
“Weeded Sori became this phrase or sense to remind the Mor’h of worse times. A rallying cry, remorseful expression and heritage all rolled into one package.” Dae spoke reflecting on the weight of those words. “The Mor’h spent a millennia avoiding these encroaching neighbors. The Mor’h advanced to protect themselves. Developed shelter, boundaries and the sharing for alerting themselves of Sori expansion in defense. The Sori remained a highly primitive and effective enemy it would seem.”
The holos began to illustrate a struggle recorded artfully. The pieces were represented larger on the backdrops of many of the enclosed themes around the library. One was signed Bogg in Mor’h script. The Hermes personality surely knew of these events! I looked around the room and eyed a plaque with some script reading Sal Tah’l on it; that damned collective had fingers in all of this and maintained an err of ignorance. That is why the variances were being suppressed and acting out. “Reign, there’s more.” Dae pulled me back into the moment.
“After nearly ten thousand years of constant rivalry in the modern era, the Mor’h wiped the Sori out. They literally culled them in a swooping act of genocide.” I was flummoxed. “On the shores of the Livewell Sea once called the Endsmeet; where the two societies met. The River Pathe was very literal and so was the name of the water barrier keeping the Sori at bay.”
“The shell in the sand is bone.” I said gravely. Dae affirmed with a nod. “They weeded them from the Garden of Life nearly twelve-hundred hundred years ago. That is the name of the library here. Below it the Great Chain of Being. Above is the future according to what I’ve read.” She professed. “They fought suppression only to indulge themselves in everything. They were advanced and arrogant. After doing away with their only natural foe through some genetically manufactured disease, they turned on themselves. Different castes began to modify themselves; first through selective breeding with some achievement as they recorded. Then through body modification, removing of organs, dramatically altering their diets on synthetic supplements! They unknowingly weakened themselves.”
I sat down as she continued unraveling my world. “The Master class became the Tah’l, the clonal survivors of the irreparable changes made to their natural physiology became the Lo’Mor’h. Millions perished solving the cloning process. They had lost the ability to reproduce.” She choked up on that last revelation. “They had destroyed themselves.”
Dae took a minute to sip some tea, her hands shaking. Dalia approached her to console her. I wasn’t sure who needed the support more. Dalia was as much a student of this history as she was a victim of her betters’ choices. The Tah’l certainly didn’t color the documentation to admonish their guilt. “All of this was commemorated and established by the construction of this site. A bitter reminder of past sins and a misguided road to redemption.”
“You said Cresche meant nursery and that above was the future. Do you mean metaphorically above? To the stars? Or both above in this structure and…” I stood completely dumbfounded. “I know what is above!”
I took Dae by the hand and rushed toward the elevator at center. “What is it Reign? What do you know?”
Dalia began acting strangely again. I linked with her and she was wavering between dream and memory. I once again could hear the sentinel tone as we climbed. The doors opened to another level of sanctuary garden like before. This floor more closely resembled the garden in the Cathedraline Chamber. A great blue light cascaded down from above. We were about midway up the tower at this point. Panes of tinted glass joined the fading light of day with the pale blue from above. Th
e stairs and walkways now climbed and circled the side. Above us were some huge mesh of cable, devices and chambers. I made for a ramp quickly to one side. Dae followed, Dalia remained still.
I nearly fell at my pace. Dae cautioned me with a stern look. We made our way up several flights before scaffolding made access to the center possible. Neither of us had paid close attention in our haste. “What are you looking for? Reign what is it?” I collapsed to my knees as the sharing of a thousand empty links filled my mind! “Reign!” Screamed Dae as I convulsed. “I-I will be fine! It-it is intense!” I struggled from my back. Dae cradled me in her arms. “Look around us. Up!” I said with a sheepish smile.
Nearly the rest of the distance of the tower upward was filled with cloning tanks. They were tightly ascending upward like rows of blue maize kernels on a cob. Behind them the instrumentation that maintained them. I knew many of them. Or would know them. My fit began to subside as I rejected the links. They were eager for release and lifeless all the same. I up-righted myself with Dae’s help. “Reign you need rest.” She escorted me back from where we came. “And I’m not sure we should be here just yet.”
She was right in one regard and wrong in another. This was also my history. Somewhere up there was the secret to the Halfer condition, the Lo’Mor’h and more importantly my own truth. Dalia looked so fragile. She had been here before but had no knowledge of it. This was her birthplace, her salvation; a being staring into the face of their god. As Mon’Mah the entire convergence was poetic.