At least now I know why my parents are so protective of me. I’m all that they will ever have. And then just as quickly he latched onto what Jinx said.
“Granted? Jinx, what are you talking about?”
“All citizens seeking to procreate must obtain a license from the Senedos Seiss.”
“You have to get permission to have a child?” Candor’s grief was replaced by a growing sense of indignation, and Jinx held out a hand to calm him.
“There are only fifteen cities on Penticore Prime. All of them are like Tulacoss, to varying degrees. You cannot live on the surface for long without the aid of containment suits. To maintain a healthy quality of life for all citizens, population control is necessary. Every Penticorian bears this responsibility with dignity, and the ideal of contributing to the greater good.”
“It just doesn’t seem right,” Candor insisted.
“I have seen the historical records, Candor. During the onset of the Oxygen Invasion nearly two-billion citizens died. Suffocated by a world that had nurtured them for over one million years. Facing extinction, your ancestors were forced into making difficult decisions. The global infrastructure of trade and commerce was in a state of chaos, with resources thin. It was only the rise of the Great Three, that allowed your race to survive and adapt.”
“Great Three, does that have anything to do with what my father told me about the line of Shuveen?”
“You are a direct descendant of Nophte Halsshik, one of the Great Three.”
“So, what did they do?”
“The line of Halsshik is responsible for the towers of Eos. One brings energy, while the other harvests carbon dioxide from the atmosphere. The line of Kasshonn introduced the technology for the dome, providing the engineering skills to rebuild our civilization underground. And the line of Dyphoss, bound them together by giving us the Healers.”
Candor looked upon an ocean that was tinged green, instead of blue. And even though he didn’t want to admit it, intuitively he recognized the truth in what Jinx told him. That is, until a thought crossed his mind. “Why control population? Why not just go further underground, or continue to develop the cities? The towers must provide plenty of power, and the Healer’s seem capable of miracles. So why not just expand?”
Jinx frowned, as if the subject pained him. “Tulacoss, is the first city, and it is also the largest on the continent of Ruxoss. Expansion continued until the licensing measures were put into place. Since that time the citizens of Penticore Prime have been split into two factions. You see, oxygen concentrations have been increasing exponentially. In the past one-hundred-thousand years, certain ecological changes have accelerated this process. Even in the upper atmosphere carbon dioxide is becoming increasingly difficult to harvest. We are standing at the edge of another life changing decision, one that will forever alter our civilization.”
The geologist inside of Candor vaulted to the surface. “Jinx, there are other ways to extract carbon dioxide. We could release it from deep ocean water. Or burn certain minerals below the crust of the planet. Heck, if there are mammals around like my mother told me, then they exhale carbon dioxide.”
Jinx shook his head to indicate that those arguments were valid, but had been rejected. “We are the children of Eos. It is forbidden to alter the natural progression of Penticore Prime. We must not burn the ground, or alter the atmosphere, or enslave the mammals that Eos has seen fit to bless with life, even for the sake of our own.”
“It’s obvious that we need large amounts of carbon dioxide to survive. So, what do we do? Do we just accept our fate and wait for the end to come?”
“No, Candor. We have been working on the solution to these issues for many centuries.”
Candor frowned before switching gears. “You mentioned two factions that were divided since procreation was regulated?”
“Yes, the Out-World Faction, and the In-World Faction. The Out-World Faction is searching the void of Eos for another planet capable of supporting life. They use orbital telescopes and interstellar probes, along with research and development to manufacture craft capable of traversing the vast distances between planets. While the In-World Faction, led by your father, hopes to find a way to breach the barriers between time and space. All things under Eos are set in cosmic cycles. It is widely believed that in the future there exists a set of conditions that are favorable to our race.”
“Huh,” Candor mused. “So, one group wants to leave the planet and find a new home, while the other is looking for a way to travel into the future. Pinpointing a place in time where the atmosphere is dominated by carbon dioxide. It’s an interesting premise on both counts, although I’m certain that both have their own unique challenges.”
“Indeed,” replied Jinx. “Your father leads a team of the most respected engineers and scientists on the planet. And they have determined that to negotiate the obstacles, an incredible source of power will be required.”
“And what about the Out-World Faction, what are they up against?”
“They must locate a planet that is both uninhabited and can support life. And they must be able to demonstrate the ability to construct transports that are safe, capable, and have no adverse impact on the ecosystem of Penticore Prime.”
Candor watched the waves lap against the shore. White foaming spray crashed against a wall that shielded the lower levels of the dome. Yet from his vantage point it was impossible to tell how large the wall was. I’d bet that I’m at least a quarter of a mile up. If I can see it from here, it must be much larger than I think it is.
“How long do we have before we start to go extinct?” Candor asked, his mind grasping the larger problems at hand. Even given the Penticorian edict to do no harm, he hoped that there was enough time remaining to solve the issues that they faced.
“We can sustain our current levels for the next two-thousand-five-hundred years, give or take a few decades. After that, we will be forced to reduce our numbers to survive.”
“We’ll go from having to apply for a license to have a child, to being restricted from having any offspring whatsoever?”
“That is correct, Candor.” Replied Jinx, and his tone was just as grim as his words.
Well at least I won’t be around to see it. Two-thousand years is a long time… Candor stopped in mid-thought. The notion reached out to him like the cold dead hands of the grave itself. My mother kept calling me, “little one.” But what if it doesn’t have anything to do with me being her only child? What if it…?
“Jinx,” said Candor, his tone was both measured and cautious. “How long does the average Penticorian live?”
“Three-thousand-six-hundred years. And that number includes the average use of the allotted five rejuvenations per citizen.”
Candor could feel the nerves at the back of his neck tighten. “And exactly how old am I?”
“Eight-hundred years, two months, sixteen days, twenty-one hours, thirty-four minutes, and twelve seconds. Of course, I must subtract out the days that you were dead, and then rejuvenated. So that would be eight-hundred years, one…”
Candor interrupted him. “That’s okay, Jinx, I get the picture.” The numbers were too large for him to comprehend. “This is going to happen in my lifetime! he said, and suddenly the room started to spin.
“Candor!” exclaimed Jinx, reaching out to stop him from falling just as his legs gave out.
“I need to sit down.” He replied, both surprised and grateful for the simulacrums strength and agility.
“That is obvious, Candor.” Wrapping an arm that felt like a chord of taught steel around his waist, Jinx took Candor through an impressive archway. Past that, there was a beautiful garden ringed with red marble columns. Candor would have liked to stop and marvel at the brilliant colors. With flowers he never imagined, and in colors that defied anything he had ever known. But his mind was swimming, and all he wanted to do was rest, after learning that he had effectively lost eight-hundred years’ worth of memories.
“What is this, a theater, in my home?”
“This is what you refer to as your sanctuary. It is the place where you work, and entertain.”
“Zyphon said that I was a storyteller of some kind. Only what did he call me? I can’t remember. Oh yea, he said I was a tale-smith.”
At the edge of the stadium were several rings of comfortable couches and chairs. Jinx helped him lie back in one of the reclining versions, and then turned to go. “I will get you some refreshment, Candor. Please try to relax. I will also contact Zyphon. It appears that you need his skills. Although I am a competent physician, he is the one who performed your rejuvenation. Only he will know if there are any lasting side effects.”
“Wait,” said Candor. “Please, don’t call Zyphon. He’ll be here tomorrow and I’m all right, really. I just had a little shock to my system, but I’m getting through it. I just need time to figure this all out.”
“Are you certain that is wise?”
He wasn’t, but at that moment he didn’t care. “No Jinx, I don’t. But it’s what I intend to do. I can’t go calling on Zyphon or my parents all the time. I’ve got to work this out myself, and I need you to help me discover who I am, or was. Can you do that for me Jinx? Can you be more than a simulacrum? Can you be my friend?”
Jinx’s towering frame stood motionless for a moment, as he considered what Candor asked of him. As a simulacrum, he was property, not a Penticorian. In all his existence, he had never once been treated as anything other than the Seneschal for the house of Shuveen. His eyes scanned for some deception in Candor. Yet he found none, which struck him as odd, because the Candor that he remembered loved to play games. A brash Penticorian who lived his life on the edge, drunk with the adoration of his fans, the lure of multiple mates, and the dangers of speed-racing and wind-surfing. Yet here was this young Penticorian before him, and even though he was little more than a child, his eyes looked old.
He assigns me gender, he asks me to wear clothes, and now he would treat me as an equal…as a friend. What happened to him during his death? Has the Goddess brought forth a change in him?
Jinx locked eyes with Candor, scanning once again for the slightest sign of disingenuousness. Yet all he could see were the pleading eyes of someone that was lost. As if he had just awoken from a long dream and had no idea who he was. In that moment, Jinx made his decision. He told Candor. “I will,” and from that moment on, Jinx bound his will, his loyalty, and his fidelity, to his friend.
Candor smiled, and his eyes brightened. For the first time since his rejuvenation he felt like things were beginning to make sense.
“Although, you must understand that this is highly unusual, especially for a simulacrum. My kind is honored, and may even hold positions of authority to a lesser extent. Yet it is unheard of for a simulacrum to have dealings with a Penticorian that, shall we say, are less than professional. You must not expect me to cross that boundary in the presence of others.”
Candor nodded and replied. “I don’t agree with that philosophy, but I understand it. Just like what you told me about licensed procreation. I don’t agree with it, but I understand both the reason, and the necessity. In many ways, I’m a lot like you?”
“Perhaps,” Jinx said as he returned Candor’s smile.
“Good,” said Candor. “Now please for the love of Pete, go put some clothes on. I promise I’ll stay put until you get back.”
Jinx had no idea who “Pete” was. But he understood Candor’s meaning well enough. “Very well, Candor. Would you like something to eat or drink upon my return?”
“I can’t be sure, I think I’m thirsty. To tell you the truth I don’t really know.”
“I will get you something to drink then,” nodded Jinx with satisfaction. “I know just the thing to lift your spirits.”
“One more question before you go.”
Jinx stopped mid-stride and faced him.
“How old are my parents? And please, I only need it in years.”
He wasn’t sure if telling Candor was the right thing to do, especially when he wasn’t there to look after him. Yet he’d sworn an oath of friendship. He had to trust that Candor would be able to assimilate the information. “Sador is one-thousand-seven hundred and twenty-two years old, while Lady Janesska is one-thousand-four-hundred and seventy-seven years old.”
“Roughly two-hundred and fifty years apart. That’s quite an age difference, don’t you think?”
Jinx looked perplexed. “It is quite common. The average age for pair-bonding is six-hundred years for females, and between seven-hundred to eight-hundred years for males.”
Candor smiled as he thought about what that implied. That he was a youngster who had just reached the age of marriage, or “pair-bonding,” as Jinx said.
“Do I have a female that I’m acquainted with, or pair-bonded with?”
Jinx rolled his eyes in an expression that Candor found all too human. “You are not pair-bonded. But you have more than your fair share of, acquaintances.”
Great, I’m a famous tale-smith and a playboy to boot, thought Candor. Then to Jinx he said, “I appreciate your honesty. Thank you.”
Jinx bowed, and exited through the atrium at the far end of the stadium. Alone with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company, he sat there for a moment. The cavernous stadium was easily the size of any symphony hall that he recalled. He looked down over the ring of chairs and couches to the arena below. The massive open white triangle was an enigma. He didn’t know how one could stage a performance in such a setting.
There’s no opening for actors or actresses to come out, no props or sets. No orchestra pits. It just doesn’t seem like a fitting place to hold any kind of entertainment.
Rising to his feet, Candor tested his legs to make certain that he had control of himself. Once he was satisfied, he advanced down a long sloping stairway to a landing which held a luxuriously appointed oval room. The back wall of this room only rose to his waist, accented by a long deep couch. In the center was an extravagant chair that looked like it was made of leather, and was appointed with gold and silver trim.
Who the hell am I? And why does it look like I’m a pretentious asshole?
As he approached the chair, Candor noted that the floor on both sides of the room curved upward in a gentle arc. By the time he reached the chair he could see the stadium behind him. While simultaneously his position allowed him to have an unobstructed view of the stage. Exhaling sharply through his skin he sat down, and suddenly the entire stage began to glow with a ghostly mist.
“Good afternoon, Candor,” said a female voice that was smooth, and seductive.
“What the hell?”
“Would you like to review the last section of, Losteruss and Paleoss?”
“Who are Losteruss and Paleoss? Oh yea, scratch that. Zyphon said that I was working on something before I died.”
As he thought about it, Candor bit tentatively at his lower lip. He didn’t know what to expect. Knowing what he did about Penticorian technology, he could only surmise that it would be fantastic. Yet the questions circling in his mind made him think twice, the last thing he needed was something a little more mind blowing. After all, he’d just found out that he was an eight-hundred-year-old child whose race was facing extinction, and that was nearly enough to turn him into a stark raving lunatic.
“No,” h
e said. “I think I’ll pass.”
Out of the mist, a Penticorian female appeared. She was tall, with thick golden hair and deep silvery-brown eyes. Her cheeks were flecked with spots of neon green. While an intricate purple spiral that looked like a magnificent tattoo, ran from the back of her neck and over her arms, coming to a stop at her…
“Oh my god!” he gasped as he noticed that she was naked. “What’s with the clothes thing around here, or the lack thereof?”
“What are you talking about? You said that when we were alone I could manifest myself in any way that I choose. And I know how you like to see me this way.”
Candor couldn’t disagree. He could feel himself stirring just by looking at her. The way she moved was like watching a ballerina, poetic and graceful. His desire was intensified by her luxurious curves, supple breasts, and velvety green skin.
“Please forgive me, but who are you?”
She pouted, slinking down onto her hands and knees. “I heard through the Interlink that you were rejuvenated. I was so worried about you, are you okay? Don’t you remember me?”
Wait just a minute. She didn’t appear until I sat down. This is a theater, so she must be something that I made up. Plus, she hasn’t left the stage so I don’t think that she can. So that would make her.
“You’re a hologram,” said Candor.
“How could you insinuate that I would have anything in common with those lowly collections of photons? I’m your avatar, and your personal assistant.”
“Okay,” replied Candor, drawing out each syllable as he tried to determine what was going on. “And does my avatar have a name?”
Slithering onto her back, she placed one leg over the other, fixing Candor with a smoldering look. It was a look that told him she wanted to devour him. Moaning lightly, she arched her back, sending Candor into a dizzying array of potentially volatile desires.
“I’m Amron,” she purred. “Now why don’t you come up here, I want to welcome you home properly.”
Candor started to get up before an errant brain synapse fired, forcing him to sit back down. “No, Amron. I don’t think I could take that right now. How about we talk instead?”
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