Penticore Prime

by Mark Chevalier

  Candor was certain that they’d be there, yet all he found were vile human memories that were shrouded in pain, and misery. There were a few decent memories, but overall, this human nightmare of a life was unremarkable and misguided. It was a life without love, or a family to complete him, and without one true friend upon which he could rely. It was a sad life, and he was grateful to know that it was only a nightmare.

  “Jinx,” he called out.

  A moment later the photonic image of his friend appeared at the foot of his bed. “Good morning, Sir Candor. Would you like a morning meal?”

  Candor thought about it for a moment before telling him. “Skip the food, I’m parched. Can you get me something to drink instead?”

  “I shall be right there,” replied the simulacrum.

  “Jinx,” said Candor before the image disappeared.

  “Yes?”

  “Please contact Zyphon. Tell him that I need to see him as soon as possible.”

  Jinx canted his head to one side and asked. “Is everything all right?”

  Candor tugged at his bottom lip with his top row of teeth and then said. “I don’t know, Jinx, I wish I did. Contact my father as well, I could use his wisdom. But I would like to speak to them together if possible.”

  “It is my honor to serve,” Jinx finished with a bow.

  The image vanished, and Candor was alone again. Alone with these new thoughts and memories, in flavors both gross and divine. In many ways, he was unprepared to face them. He hoped that with his father and Zyphon’s help, they could figure it out together.

  “I do not know how, or why it is there. Yet it is, and from what I can tell, it is centered on Candor.” Sador said.

  His face held the countenance of someone that had stared into the heart of the abyss, and was haunted by it. The hand holding his drink shook without his consent, and he used the other one to steady it. That alone frustrated him, even though it was a small thing when compared to what he discovered. His shoulders felt heavy as he sat in the chair by the transparent wall. Far below him the ocean churned, beating against the barricade, whose purpose was to shield the city of Tulacoss. He frowned, remembering a time when those waters had been red. Now they were a murky blue, as carbon dioxide continued to compress, sinking into the deepest parts of the ocean, and allowing oxygen molecules to run free in the atmosphere. Their race was coming to an end, and Sador knew it.

  At least as it is now, he thought. The nostalgia of the moment passed, as he felt the slender delicate hands of Janesska. Skilled fingers which kneaded his tension away as she massaged his shoulders.

  “Can you tell how long?” Janesska asked him, her voice a soothing balm, like silk on the wind.

  “It is not a question of how long, my fadosh,” replied Sador, as he reached up and caressed one of her hands. “It is a question of how many times.”

  “And do you know how many times, my husband?”

  Sador turned in his chair to look at her, his eyes somber. “This will be the eleventh time.”

  Without thinking she dropped her hands, and Sador noticed that her color faded.

  “I know,” he said. “I never expected it either. My faith is just as true as it has always been in the Goddess. Yet to be faced with it directly…”

  “It becomes difficult to comprehend,” finished Janesska.

  Sador nodded. “Yet that is not all, my beloved wife, because there is something else going on, a compounding of the anomaly that I have yet to understand.”

  “Compounding?”

  “There is a magnification, a constriction, on the strings of the spacetime continuum, and it is intensifying the effects.”

  Janesska looked as somber as her husband did. “And have you defined it, measured it?”

  He nodded once again as he told her. “It is in stages, or powers of magnitude that are having a bridging effect between superstrings. At present, I calculate that the anomaly has increased to slightly more than one-hundred and sixty-one thousand times.”

  Janesska paused for a moment, her slender frame frozen in place as she calculated the number, eleven to the fifth power. “That number is the product of five upon eleven times,” she said. “Yet no living citizen has ever survived that long. It was thought to be a myth, with no literal significance.”

  Sador gave a short grunt of agreement and said. “And now the myth, by means I cannot yet explain, has become the reality. Only this is not as we envisioned.”

  Janesska poured herself a drink, and sat next to her husband. Sador understood her vacant look, because it matched his own.

  “So, what is to be done?”

  He looked at her, and she was more pleasing to his eyes than the first time he caught sight of her, so very long ago. Taking her gently by the hand, he told her. “That is the point, my fadosh. What is happening right now has already happened before, and it will happen again. The history of both our past, and future, is already written.”

  Janesska looked grim. “Yet what is the effect to the continuum? How much constriction can it sustain before a catastrophic failure? Nothing can endure forever, can it, my husband?”

  Sador took a sip from his drink as he regarded her. “I am a scientist, not a god. I simply do not know. What I believe is that as the superstrings draw closer, the risk of an implosion increases. An implosion that could have a cascading effect on all eleven strings.”

  “There must be an answer, some way to reverse the damage,” declared Janesska.

  Sador smiled with pride. His beloved was forever the optimist, even in the face of knowledge that far surpassed their technological ability to fully comprehend. “I have been searching for some commonality in the anomaly. I surmise that at some point there will be an action, or choice that is made. That will be the fissure, or focal point, that creates both the instability, and the paradox.”

  “Have you located it yet?”

  Sador shook his head no, and Janesska cast her gaze down at the ocean.

  “Why would we not warn ourselves?”

  Sador laughed…just a little. “My fadosh, I am certain that somewhere in the spacetime continuum there resides a Sador and Janesska that possess the answers to these questions. And by that very knowledge they could not, and would not, contact us in any fashion. To do so would corrupt the timeline, and create another point of instability.”

  “We do nothing? We leave it in the hands of the Goddess?”

  “To some degree, yes,” replied Sador. “What we know is that the event is centered on Candor. We must continue to look after him, and if the Goddess wills it, then when the time comes we will be able to recognize the event, and move to stop it.”

  “But first we must understand it,” Janesska replied.

  “Indeed,” agreed Sador.

  A chime sounded, and Sador called out. “Yes?”

  Jinx appeared in front of them, a photonic image of crystal clarity in three perfect dimensions. He looked from Sador to Janesska, pausing as he sensed that something was wrong.

  “What is it, Jinx?” Sador asked.

  Jinx bowed and said. “My apologies for the intrusion Seiss Sador, Lady Janesska.”

  Janesska leaned back and took a sip of her drink. “No need to apologize, Jinx. Please continue.”

  The simulacrum straightened his tunic, an entirely unnecessary gesture, and one that reminded both of Candor’s parents that Jinx was now clothed. It was something they tolerated, although they questioned Candor’s motives for such a drastic change.

  “Seiss Sador,” began Jinx. “At Candor’s request, Sir Zyphon has agreed to meet with him at his residence. He should arrive within the hour.”

  “Is our son all right?” Sador asked.

  “I have seen him this morning, Seiss Sador. He appears to be in good physical condition.”

  “You speak as if there is a qualification to that statement.”

  Both of Candor’s parents took note as Jinx pursed his lips. The fact of the matter was that a simulacrum’s gene
tically engineered brain was designed to be logic oriented, not emotionally connected. So what Jinx displayed now was pure unadulterated emotion, yet another cause for concern.

  “He appeared, thoughtful,” said Jinx. “As if something disturbed his dreams.”

  Sador Shuveen was no fool, as one thought inevitably linked another, and he asked. “And has this happened before?”

  Jinx was frozen. Given his nature it was unthinkable for him to lie, or engage in any form of deception whatsoever. Yet Jinx never gave credence to the notion that he should supply information to Candor’s parents, information that Candor deemed personal. In many ways, he now recognized that he had gotten himself into a terrible mess. And as he stood there thinking of the vast multipliers that were compiling during this conversation, he began to wonder if it was possible to extricate himself from this situation.

  “It has, Seiss Sador.” He replied, knowing full well what was coming next.

  Janesska’s voice was laced with anger and concern as she demanded. “Why have you not told us before, Jinx? You were to look after him, were you not?”

  Jinx bowed deeply and replied. “If my matriarch is displeased, then I offer my earnest apology. No information was asked for, nor withheld at any time.”

  “That’s not the point and you know it! If something was wrong, then as the Seneschal for the House of Shuveen, you are obligated to inform us!”

  “I assure you, Matriarch, that if at any time I had credible proof that Candor’s wellbeing was in jeopardy, I would have notified you instantly. As it was, Candor insisted that those circumstances remain confidential.” It was as much as Jinx could say, without regressing into a defensive posture.

  “Confidential! From us, his own parents! It is simply unheard of to keep such secrets! Why I should have you…!”

  “Janesska, calm yourself,” Sador interrupted. His tone was smooth in the face of his wife’s anger. He could sympathize with her position because he felt the same way. Yet an unusual and valuable opportunity had presented itself, and he was not about to turn away Jinx’s assistance. Janesska was still fuming, her lips drawn together as she bit her tongue. During her long life, she recalled becoming this angry only twice, and this was the second time.

  Jinx’s photonic image fell to one knee before them as he said. “I beg your forgiveness if I have offended.”

  “Get up, Jinx,” commanded Sador. “I understand the precarious nature of the circumstances that led to this unfortunate outcome. However, I do not hold you responsible.”

  Her body tensed, and Janesska literally appeared to float out of her chair. Sador held out a calming hand, and gestured for her to relax. Slowly she did, although the withering glare she favored him with prompted Sador to add. “Not to worry, my fadosh. Although not responsible, Jinx must answer for the omission nonetheless.”

  Jinx was standing again, his hands folded respectfully in front of him as his eyes memorized the marble patterns in the floor.

  “Do you have our son’s confidence, in its entirety?”

  Jinx nodded yes, but didn’t vocalize any more of a response.

  “Good. Now you will not understand what I am about to command you, nor will I give you a proper explanation for the reasons behind it.”

  Jinx was confused, as Sador stood directly in front of him. “It is my honor to serve the noble House of Shuveen,” he replied.

  “You shall not return to the service of Lady Janesska, do you understand? As the Lord of this manor, I am severing that relationship forever.”

  Jinx saw Janesska’s surprised, yet unforgiving expression. Whatever Seiss Sador had in mind, she was going to allow it without challenge.

  “Yes, Seiss Sador,” he replied.

  “Next month, Candor and Thalia are to be bonded. As tradition dictates, they will take up residence here, with us.”

  Jinx nodded, because at this point Sador was stating facts.

  “Your service to them shall be permanent, our gift to them. Do you understand?”

  Jinx understood, and more than that, he felt relieved that the conflict building inside of him would be nullified by such an action, unless…

  “However, as Lord of this manor I hold absolute authority over it, and everything in it. The bonded couple has standing rights and privileges, as well as Candor’s birthright to the lordship of this house upon my passing. Yet that does not apply to you. So, this is what I command.

  “Should there be an incident such as this again. Or if you are currently withholding information, then you are to divulge concerns regarding Candor’s mental state. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Perfectly, Seiss Sador,” Jinx replied.

  “You will also answer any inquiry from me, or Lady Janesska. So long as it does not violate the rights and privileges of the bonded couple. And you are not to disclose to Candor that you are informing us. Is that understood?”

  Jinx understood, and it raised one insurmountable barrier that no simulacrum could ever violate. “But what if they ask me directly? I cannot lie.”

  “Vochass, Jinx!” shouted Sador. For Jinx and Janesska, the meaning was painfully clear. There was no way out for any of them, and no way around the edict that Sador just declared. Jinx was a prisoner in this arrangement. His adoration and devotion to the family he served for over nine-hundred years weighed upon him, and breaking an oath was unthinkable.

  Why would Seiss Sador evoke the order of vochass? He could hardly believe it. Not to mention that ordering vochass meant that the House of Shuveen faced an imminent threat.

  “I am your loyal seneschal,” said Jinx. “I shall not fail you.”

  Measuring the simulacrums sincerity, Sador found it was acceptable. He nodded and took a deep breath, satisfied in their ability to keep an eye on Candor. In truth, it made him feel horrible as he thought. I’m reduced to taking drastic measures such as this, just to keep an eye on my own son!

  His thoughts were caustic, eating away at the pillars of everything he held dear. And then, in the middle of the conflict brewing inside of him, Sador conceived a most horrible thought. It was a thought that he dared not give a voice, even when he was alone.

  “You may go now, Jinx,” he commanded.

  The photonic image began to fade, when Jinx remembered why he’d contacted Sador to begin with. He was afraid to speak, and potentially degrade the situation even further, but he had no viable alternative.

  “What is it, is there something else?” Sador sat down, feeling as though his shoulders were laden with massive stones.

  “Yes, Seiss Sador,” replied Jinx.

  “Well, out with it!”

  “Candor has invited you to attend his meeting with Zyphon. He said that your wisdom would be most sincerely appreciated.”

  Why of all the…Goddess forgive me! Sador nearly lost his temper as he realized that his order to Jinx may not have been necessary. It never occurred to him that Candor would request his assistance if he felt that it was needed. And now he’d done it, enlisting Jinx as a spy, while binding him to the order of vochass. He growled with frustration, and then all at once he felt his strength depart, and he reached for his drink. After emptying the glass, he set it in his lap, his eyes looking past Jinx to the ocean. The waters were calm today, with only a few wandering clouds on the horizon. Sador longed to find the peace inside of him that mirrored the ocean, and he drew strength from imagining himself floating gently above the waves.

  If only I could go outside and breathe the air of my ancestors, he thought.

  “That will be fine, Jinx. Please ask Candor to wait for me. I think I shall need some time to…prepare.”

  Jinx bowed, and replied. “I am certain that he will comply with your wishes, Seiss Sador.”

  “Thank you, Jinx,” said Sador. Yet his words held no passion, being just as hollow and depressed as his state of mind.

  Jinx, knowing when to retreat, vanished. The truth was that he was never more grateful for the end of something in his entire existence.


  Candor’s parents sat in silence, with hardly a stray glance between them. Sador activated a control that allowed the gentle sound of the ocean to filter into the room.

  He nearly found his center when Janesska said. “I think that we were too harsh on Jinx, my husband. The simulacrum has been faithful and loyal. We should have known that Jinx, or Candor himself, would approach us if something of true importance happened.”

  “Yes, my wife, but that is the point. ‘Happened,’ is the operative word. We can’t risk finding out about something this important after the fact.”

  Sador slouched in his chair, and he took a deep breath. “Yet I agree with you, my fadosh. I was too hard on Jinx, and for that I must make amends.”

  “What will you do?”

  Sador set his glass down, and then taking one of Janesska’s hands he kissed it. “First, I shall hear what our son has to say. Then, I will make a decision regarding Jinx.”

  Janesska smiled, returning her husband’s kiss. Sador managed a thin smile, even though the caution in his mind was growing stronger. It was an insistent thought that wore away at him, just as the ocean eventually erodes the mightiest of shores. His eyes glazed over, misting with the pounding of a question that demanded an answer. He felt a cold shiver rattle his nerves as he thought. What if the Candor we knew and loved did die, before he was rejuvenated? What if Candor, is not Candor at all?

  Later that morning, Candor, Sador, and Zyphon, were seated in an alcove in the dining hall of Candor’s residence. Jinx provided them with sok-ta, and something to snack on. And although Candor thought the food was overdoing it, he enjoyed the taste of the coffee-like drink. Not to mention the mental boost it provided.

  “So, my son,” began Sador. “What troubles you enough to gather us together?”