Finally he decided to dive in. The worst he could do was offend the man. “Can I ask you something? Off the record, as a personal friend?”
“Of course you can.”
“You’re a believer, right?”
“A believer in…?”
“A higher power. A divine entity. God, whatever the title means for you.”
Richard nodded slowly. “I am. I got the impression from the, um, funeral service that you are as well.”
“I am. So my question to you is, do you have a ‘no regenesis’ clause in your will?”
“Oh.” Richard sank back in his chair and clasped his hands in his lap. “I do not.”
“Follow-up question: why not?” Malcolm immediately winced. “I apologize. That was rude. I only meant—”
“It wasn’t rude. It’s a valid question, and a…” Richard chuckled under his breath “…complicated one.”
“Is it because of David? And now Miriam?”
“They’re part of it, yes. I’ve watched them both struggle with the challenges of being reborn. And their struggles, more than anything else, convinced me they are the same people as they were before their deaths. Heart and soul.”
“I haven’t spent much time with Miriam since escaping from Savrak, but I readily concede that she appears to be utterly herself. And on a professional level, I’m not questioning it. It’s not my place to judge the presence or absence of anyone else’s soul. But for myself, I’m struggling. Are you saying you believe regenesis can return the soul to the body? How?”
Richard’s hands rose to steeple at his chin. “You should ask a priest this question.”
“I already know what a priest will say. I just need to talk about this out loud, and I’m interested in what you think.”
“I’m afraid I haven’t the slightest idea how, which brings us to the other reason I don’t have a ‘no regenesis’ clause in my will. Who am I to question God’s ways?”
Malcolm frowned. “I understand the sentiment, but….”
“My degrees are in history, so I’ve always viewed events through a particular lens. Trying to learn the lessons the past strives to teach us. Throughout history, whenever we’ve made a great medical or technological advance, there were those who insisted we were defying God’s will. Medicine. Surgery. Blood transfusions. Ventilators. Synthetic organ replacement. Cybernetics. Cryogenic stasis. Prevos. Now, regenesis. What is the qualitative difference between the last one and all the ones to come before?”
“Well, with regenesis, the person was dead. Full-stop. Whatever regenesis creates is by definition something, or someone, new.”
“A person who is revived via medical intervention after their heart or brain activity has ceased was dead, too. Sure, the body’s the same in those cases, but the body’s merely scenery when you’re discussing a spiritual soul.”
“It’s…not a terrible point. But given what we understand about brain function in the minutes after death—”
“Absolutely. I don’t have the logical or the spiritual answer, Malcolm. That’s the point. Who am I to draw the line? If I were alive in the 1800s, would I have drawn it at anesthesia? In the early 2000s, at EPR? It seems beyond silly to do so now, but I bet it didn’t to a lot of people then. Who knows? Maybe this line we’re struggling to draw today will seem silly in another century.
“The point is this: I’m not privy to God’s perspective, or their plan. I think they want us to grow and develop and reach ever outward as we struggle to become better people who are more worthy of their grace. They endowed us with these finicky brains for a reason, and on the whole we’ve made reasonably good use of them. What if regenesis is the next step in our guided evolution?”
“Then it would be a damn shame if we frustrated God’s intentions by, for all intents and purposes, committing suicide by rejecting regenesis.” Malcolm sighed. “It’s a compelling argument, I admit. Thank you. You’ve given me a lot to think through.”
“Listen, I’m not a theologian. I’m not even a particularly good believer. I’ve stumbled so many times that I’ve lost count. I just try to do what I think is right, for myself and my conscience. Every person’s faith is their own, and this is a decision you have to make for yourself.”
“I know it is.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “The truth is, I don’t need to decide whether I believe regenesis can return my soul to a new body. I don’t need to believe it will, because Mia believes it, and she’s the one who’ll have to accept this new…version of me. I only need to decide whether I’m committing a heresy in God’s eyes sufficient to send my soul to Hell if I take the chance.” He shook his head. “We shouldn’t play God.”
“We play God every day. People like you and me, at least twice a day. I, for one, hope it amuses them.”
Malcolm couldn’t help but laugh. “Valid point. Again I say, thank you. I don’t know if I can follow the same path as you, but I’m glad it’s there for me to consider.” He stood and offered a hand across the desk.
Richard shook it, and Malcolm turned to go, then stopped and pivoted back. “What about all…this?” He gestured toward the viewport on the rear wall of Richard’s office. “Amaranthe, pocket universes, aliens, primordial cosmic forces. A lot of people abandoned their faith after The Displacement.”
“They did, but honestly, it only strengthened mine.” Richard considered the scene outside the viewport, a speculative gleam in his eyes. “There are far more powerful beings in this universe than the Katasketousya or the Rasu, and I believe we’ve scarcely begun to meet them.”
37
* * *
OURANKELI STELLAR SYSTEM
Halo Ring
Caleb shuddered within the stifling confines of his heavily shielded environment suit. Stepping foot on a dead world—a dead artifact of a dead civilization—evoked primal emotions in him, some of which humans had yet to craft the proper words of expression for. The magnitude of the loss, of all the lives that would never be lived and the tremendous knowledge erased from the annals of the universe? Sorrow panged listlessly in his heart.
Akeso, however, conveyed only a vague curiosity. It recognized no life here, thus saw no potential connection to be explored. Life once flourished here? I cannot conceive of it.
It did. An organic species built all this as a magnificent monument to their intelligence and achievement. But now their achievements are gone, destroyed by the Rasu. And so are they.
Then I shall endeavor to mourn them, whatever they were.
After their time on Namino, he believed Akeso now identified the Rasu as a threat—to itself, to him, to all living things—but the devastation here served as a visceral reminder of what it meant in real terms. A day was going to come when he would have to face the Rasu again in bloody, violent battle, and when that happened he wanted Akeso on his side as an ally.
He expanded his lungs and breathed in the artificial air piping through his suit. Alex was meandering in slow circles, taking in the nearby crumbled structures, though her chin repeatedly lifted to bring her gaze to the star in the distance.
A pall had descended upon them both, and speaking felt like a violation. But if so, there was no one here to take offense. “For all the ruins, there are thousands of megameters of metal still standing. Why hasn’t the radiation field disintegrated all these buildings? Any idea, Valkyrie?”
‘Unknown. I can speculate that the Ourankeli took steps to shelter their own structures from the field’s effects, but I do not yet know enough about the field or their technology to venture a guess as to how they accomplished it.’
Alex stretched out her left arm, a large scanner module grasped in her glove. “Let’s take what readings we can capture, and we can try to piece together a theory.” She gestured ahead. “After you.”
Of course he would take point, because unlikely as it seemed, dangers may lurk in the shadows. “Are our shields holding up okay so far?”
‘Yes. Nonetheless, I do not recommend spending longer than two hours
out in the open without returning to the Siyane to reset and refresh your shields.’
“Noted.” The ring stretched so wide in both directions that it fell away to the horizon before either edge came into view. It would take weeks to begin to scratch the surface of the habitat, so for now, Caleb simply went forward.
They ventured down what must have once been an avenue, or at a minimum a wide path cutting through buildings on both sides. Nothing but rubble remained on the left side, while on the right gutted structures stood in jagged sections up to around thirty meters in height. This suggested the damage in this area was caused by offensive weaponry rather than the ravages of the radiation field.
He reached down and picked up an ivory shard of metal and shifted it around in his palm. “This reminds me of the devastation on Ireltse after Tapertse retaliated for Pinchu’s attack. The wreckage is metal instead of stone, but the destruction isn’t so different.”
“On Ireltse, there were still people to be saved.”
“And we did save them.” He reached out and squeezed her gloved hand, finding himself fighting to keep the melancholy at bay. This was supposed to be an adventure, dammit.
They walked for almost fifty minutes, taking readings and recording visuals. They passed countless demolished structures, as well as the wrecks of smaller objects that resembled vehicles of some kind. A few open areas were burnt down to a dusty soil. Perhaps they had once been parks?
‘Another ten minutes and you should turn around. Or I can bring the ship to you.’
Caleb sighed; despite his best efforts, the endless dreariness of the dead landscape was taking its toll. “There do seem to be plenty of areas wide enough for you to land. Let’s plan on moving the ship when we need to.”
Ahead, brilliant sunlight poured through an enormous hole in the tallest standing structure they’d seen so far to fall in a wide beam upon the street. He couldn’t say whether the Ourankeli’s home had once been colorful, for even in the light, everything was cast in hues of gray—
Thrown into relief by the beam of light, a splotch of blackness stood out against the endless monotone. Caleb moved to the right and crept closer to it. As he drew near, he recognized it wasn’t blackness as such, but rather a deep yet somehow faded purple.
Rasu.
“Alex, over here.”
She hurried to his side, then pulled up short. Together they studied the tiny pool of liquid metal. No more than half a meter in diameter, it reminded him all too much of the pools of Rasu on Namino that had formed after his blades shredded their bipedal forms. Readying to rejoin together and rise up once again.
But nothing remained for this Rasu to rejoin with, and its ability to rise up had been stripped from it by the radiation field. He found he enjoyed the notion quite a lot. “What kind of readings are we getting off of it?”
Alex studied the scanner for a second. “The Rasu emission signature is there, but it’s so weak it barely registers at all, though we’re directly on top of it.”
“Harmless, then.”
“I’m not sure even an ounce of Rasu is harmless.”
“Still.” He took another step forward and crouched in front of the pool, peering at it with increasing curiosity. After another moment of contemplating it, he removed the glove from his left hand and reached out.
“What are you doing?”
“What I would have done on Namino if I’d been in my right mind.” He extended his pointer finger and lowered his fingertip to the metal—
—a star system so clotted with Rasu they eclipse the star, churning and building and sending out their minions into the cosmos, mighty armadas tasked to search, find, study and consume everything in their path—
—searing heat/pain/disruption we are torn asunder where no response no guidance no order—
—cold desire need must reach must find must think must destroy where try again reach—
He yanked his hand back so hard he almost fell on his ass. He hurriedly checked the skin on his finger, half expecting to see dark molten metal seeping under his fingernail…but it was unmarred. He exhaled in relief and shoved the glove back on. His hand felt cold, numb; while his shielding had provided him some protection, the ravages of space had nonetheless been hard at work in the few brief seconds he’d exposed his skin.
Alex was kneeling beside him, a hand on his shoulder. “Dammit, Caleb! Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I, um….” He tried to scratch at his face, only to be blocked by his helmet. How had he sensed the Rasu’s voice? Akeso was the obvious answer; if it could communicate with him, it stood to reason it could do so with other life forms. To his knowledge, in fifteen years Akeso had never done so, but the Rasu weren’t like other forms of life, were they? “It’s still alive. In the tiniest way, it’s still thinking, still searching for a way to win this battle.”
“It never got the message that they already won.”
“No one won here.” He stood, shivering.
This monstrous thing…it calls itself alive?
It is alien in a way few things we have encountered are, but yes. It is alive, and it is our enemy.
It is our enemy.
The remark took him by surprise. Had Akeso seen something yet darker than he had in their brief glimpse of the Rasu’s mind?
He caught Alex studying him curiously, and he forced a laugh. “Before you suggest it, we are not taking this thing on our ship.”
“No, I agree. Seeing it now, up close, I don’t want it anywhere near the Siyane.” He sensed her shudder through the environment suit. “What else did it show you?”
“I think I caught a glimpse of their home system.”
“What was it like?”
He considered the molten pool for another second, then shrugged weakly and stood. “Rasu to every horizon. They’re locusts.”
“Locusts armed with planet- and species-killing weapons.”
“That’s not a very pleasant image.”
She scoffed. “I didn’t paint it, they did—” Behind the faceplate, her attention darted to a point in the distance behind him. “I just saw something. A shimmer.”
He pivoted toward where she was looking, his hand instantly going to the Daemon on his belt. No protest erupted from Akeso as he unlatched it and brought it up in both hands. “Rasu?”
“I don’t think so. Something else. It could have simply been a reflection of the shifting light.”
“Let’s take care nonetheless.”
Alex armed herself as well, and they carefully approached an area that had been cleared of the larger chunks of debris, exposing a nearly smooth surface. Deliberately so?
Twenty meters into the open area, a faint shimmer wavered in the dancing starlight. It also obscured everything that resided beyond it. “This is functioning technology.”
Alex glanced at him, then back to the shimmer. “Is something alive here? Something not Rasu? Valkyrie, I’m not picking up anything on the scanner.”
‘Nor am I. If this is Ourankeli technology, I do not possess the references to identify it.’
Caleb took another step forward, then froze as through the barrier emerged an alien. It was bipedal, at least for the moment, with four upper appendages encircling its body. Triple eyes floated in a wide band of gelatinous skin beneath a flat forehead and above a single oval orifice, and a barely detectable shimmer similar to the barrier it arrived through enclosed its head. Its torso and disproportionately long legs were almost entirely covered by a long frock that sparkled when it moved—or floated, which might be a more apt description. Everything about the form seemed to flow in constant motion, though the alien hardly advanced toward them at all.
It also didn’t come out shooting or wielding any identifiable weapons, so Caleb holstered his Daemon and raised his hands in the air. Alex quickly did the same.
“Hello? We mean you no harm. Are you an Ourankeli?”
The alien vocalized a series of gentle, warbling sounds. They sounded almost like a cha
nt delivered by several voices at once.
“Valkyrie, what are the odds for a translation program?”
‘I have no Ourankeli broadcasts or texts to analyze. It will take a while.’
He could feel Alex rolling her eyes beside him, and a thought occurred to him. “Switch to Communis.” He took a cautious step forward. “Hello. We come in peace. We didn’t expect to find anyone alive, but we want to speak with you, if you’ll allow it.”
The alien’s strange head lolled about in its helmet for several tense seconds. More warbles followed, then a pause. “You speak the language of one who visited us long ago.”
The voice was tonally the same as the warbles. To all appearances it was speaking Communis without using a device to broadcast the translation. “Yes! Yes, we do. We’ve come at the behest of that man. He feared you were all dead and sent us to discover what happened here.”
The alien regarded them for a long beat before sweeping an appendage out and motioning them forward. “Come. We will speak.”
He and Alex looked at each other. She was grinning, all the melancholy of the setting washed away by the excitement of first contact. He smiled and took her hand, and they followed the alien.
It soon vanished through the barrier. When they reached it, he tested it with a gloved hand. The barrier gave way, and his hand passed beyond his sight. He nodded to Alex, and they stepped through.
Inside, every scrap of debris had been cleared away. A small, marble courtyard led to a two-story structure pieced together from large chunks of fallen façades. The alien continued on through an open archway into the structure, then stopped. Its eyes spun around to regard them without it turning its head, and one of its arm appendages again motioned them closer.
“In we go.”
The first floor was filled with what he assumed were the trappings of an Ourankeli home, but few of the items were analogous to human fixtures. A long, cushioned slab along the right wall was identifiable as a couch or bed, and a tall enclosure on the back wall might be a refrigeration module or other type of storage unit.
Echo Rift Page 24