Penticore Prime

by Mark Chevalier

  Candor’s head was spinning. Everything felt numb, like a dream. “It was me! Seiss Theniass asked me to come to his office once where he performed a scan on me. He wouldn’t tell me what it was for, said that it was a secret.”

  “Even absent, Seiss Theniass continues to be a thorn in my side!” Demast shouted as he approached the image. “And were you in league with him, Seiss Sador? Were you going to see that it was done?”

  “The original plans called for me to launch the Caspularuss into orbit. I was not going to do that, however. My loyalty to the Goddess is too great to abide such blasphemy, so I constructed a vault, and have buried it deep under the crust of Penticore Prime.”

  “Why not destroy it?” insisted Demast.

  “It is powered by a quantum singularity, and once created it cannot be destroyed. It is the reason why such great pains were taken to unify the ark-ships, to keep their numbers to an absolute minimum.”

  “But Father, you must have launched it into space,” said Candor. “And somehow it got thrown out of orbit, and wandered the galaxy until its trajectory caused it to land on Earth.”

  “The situation is more complicated than that,” replied Amron.

  A wave of her hand and the image vanished, replaced by the familiar sight of Penticore Prime. Another orb appeared, and Candor recognized it as the Penticore Prime of the future.

  “Penticore Prime as it was, and as it will be, once the In-World Faction arrives,” she said. “Now look.”

  The planet of the future disappeared, as the one from the present grew to fill the room in front of them. Slowly the great mass of the continent of Ruxoss began to break apart, a function of plate tectonics. Yet what shook Candor to the core was that as the planet kept turning, it began to look hauntingly familiar. Ice ages swept across the surface, and then retreated. Monstrous hurricanes and comets struck the planet, and slowly, Candor began to see.

  “That’s North America!” he shouted, as the latitudes increased and the expansion grew. “Australia, China, New Guinea, Solomon Islands, Africa, South America! By the Goddess, I’m on Earth! Penticore Prime is Earth?”

  “Approximately five-hundred and fifty-million years from your present time. You are in what humans refer to as the Cambrian Period, of the Paleozoic Era. Both races were born from the same mother, Eos,” said Amron.

  “Geology and paleontology couldn’t explain why carbon dioxide levels in the atmosphere dropped so dramatically during that period. Is that why, because Penticorian’s evolved?”

  Amron nodded, and there was something else about her that Candor sensed. It was a feeling combined with an odd sensation of déjà vu.

  “This is just a dream? It’s all been just a dream! I touched the Caspularuss, and began living the remembered life of a Penticorian!”

  “No, you are not,” replied Amron. Between the revelation that he was on Earth, and the icosahedron, Candor was barely holding himself together. Now Amron, a being from the future of Penticore Prime, was throwing an entirely new concept at him.

  “The nature of the quantum singularity was altered somehow, and we believe without the consent of Seiss Theniass. We cannot discern where the anomaly occurred, or by what method. What we know for certain is that a window, became a doorway. And that doorway allowed your fadosh to pass through, and merge with the deceased body of Candor Shuveen.”

  “I’m not really him, am I? I’m just a soul who found a shell!”

  “No, as I said, you are both Candor Shuveen, and Candor Shubin,” Amron replied. “You have been you, and continue to be so.”

  “Don’t speak to me in riddles, Amron!”

  “She is not, my son,” replied Sador.

  “It’s true,” added Janesska. “From what we know, this has caused both a constriction and an amplification of the continuum.”

  “From my observations, this has been going on for some time. It is repeating in a continuous loop,” said Sador. “Your footprint in time is causing the universal strings, which tether the foundations of reality, to sing with discord.”

  “I don’t understand,” replied Candor.

  “Let me explain,” said Amron.

  She stretched out her hand, and another photonic image appeared. Then she said. “Everything above the line concerns Candor Shubin, and everything below the line is Candor Shuveen. Understand?”

  Candor was uneasy, seeing both of his names floating in front of him, but he nodded.

  Amron continued. “You, Candor Shuveen, were born, and died three times.

  “Upon the third death, your fadosh was reborn as Candor Shubin. And you lived as Candor Shubin, until you touched the Ekoss Caspularuss.

  “At that point, the Caspularuss allowed your fadosh to travel backwards in time, and join with your body yet again, after your third death, as Candor Shuveen. You then live out your life, and die of natural causes in the distant future.

  Upon your death, however, the timeline is reset. You are reborn as Candor Shuveen, and the cycle starts again.

  Seiss Demast asked. “How many times has this occurred?”

  Sador answered him, even though he was speaking directly to Candor. Taking his son by the shoulders, his eyes awash with misery, he told him. “By my calculations, this has occurred over one-hundred-thousand times.”

  “One-hundred and sixty-one-thousand, and fifty-one times, to be exact,” said Amron.

  Jinx, who was in silent shock up to this point, realized the significance of that number. “It was written by Seiss Nophte Halsshik! When the Goddess cursed him, she told him that there would be a redeemer. She foretold that he would sin five upon eleven times!

  “The prophecy is fulfilled,” Amron confirmed.

  “I don’t buy it! I refuse to believe that I’m some prophet sent to save Penticore Prime. I was just a man once, a human geologist of no importance whatsoever.”

  “It does not matter if you do not believe in the Goddess,” replied Seiss Demast. “She believes in you.”

  “Candor,” said Amron. “You are both the cause of the constriction in the continuum, and the solution to it. We estimate that it will take one more loop, and the superstrings will snap. Then the continuum will collapse under the strain of the infinite timeline that has been created. It is outside the bounds of normal spacetime, and wraps around the superstrings. Even now it constricts them, threatening all life in this universe.”

  “Why are you here?” asked Candor. “Aren’t you creating the same problem just by being here?”

  “I am,” she agreed. “However, the danger to the timeline for one incursion is minor. At least when compared to the choice you must make.”

  “And what choice would that be?”

  Amron looked sad, which sent a chill through him. Then she said. “We pinpointed the cause of the constriction, Candor. As I pointed out, in each instance this loop concludes with your death as a Penticorian in the future. I have been here before, at this moment, as have all of you in this room. And at each juncture you do not seal the breech in the timeline, instead you choose to stay.”

  He knew immediately what Amron was asking of him. “I’m not going back! I’ll not be a human again! I lost part of my family during The Exodus, I’ll not be parted from the rest of my family! I won’t, I can’t!”

  “If you value all life in the continuum, you must.” With that, Amron showed him what he had to do. A repair point appeared, which he knew was upon him now, followed by his death as a human being.

  “No!” he cried. And tears began flowing, as he wept in bitter anger. “I wasn’t lying in my movies. Humans are brutal and savage compared to us. They take and take, with no regard for the Earth. Just before I became a Penticorian, they couldn’t invent enough ways to murder one another. Or devise new and clever methods to extract energy from the land, and change their climate. They don’t respect life, and nature, they dominate and abuse it. I won’t go back to that!”

  “We know,” replied Amron. “We know all about the humans from your
tales, and from your memories. It is also part of the reason that I am here, because our future is not the one that we expected, and we are in danger of becoming extinct. However, your intrusion on the timeline provides us with a chance to save everyone, both human and Penticorian alike.”

  Except for Amron, they all gasped. One by one they demanded an explanation, until Amron implored them to calm down. Then she told them. “Once the humans enter what they call the ‘Industrial Age,’ levels of atmospheric carbon dioxide begin to increase. At first, we had no knowledge of the humans, who evolved from mammals and breathe oxygen. Nor did we understand the constriction in the spacetime continuum. That is, until our atmosphere began to change rapidly. Candor’s transition from human to Penticorian caused a ripple effect, and intensified the strength of the changes. Instead of arriving in the future to find the atmosphere already altered, it happened gradually, and in stages of frightening magnitude.

  “In little more than three-thousand years, levels of atmospheric oxygen surpassed those of your present time. Once again, we were forced to live inside our cities, shut off from the rest of our world. It was only later, because of Candor, that we discovered the cause.”

  “The humans,” deduced Sador. “By releasing carbon dioxide, they changed the climate. That modification reset the geologic clock, and interrupted the normal lifecycle of the planet.”

  Candor asked. “Are you saying that there are no humans in the future?”

  “When we arrived, there was no trace of them. We discovered residual background radiation, and attributed it to an asteroid impact that occurred approximately four-million years before our arrival.”

  “What about our brothers of the air? I thought that they were going to be the next species to evolve?” asked Vesspa.

  “The humans call them, ‘dinosaurs,’” Amron replied. “They did evolve for a time. Unfortunately, an asteroid impact caused a mass extinction, thirty-five-million years before humans became the dominant species.

  “Amron, I still don’t understand,” said Sador. “Why are you telling us this?”

  “Because, Seiss Sador, we are going to stop the humans, and reset the geologic clock. Yet to be successful, Candor must agree to return and cauterize the time loop, thus relieving the constriction on the superstrings.”

  “Stop them, how?”

  Amron paused for a moment. “Seiss Demast, you must understand that Penticorians in my time are vastly different from those of your era. There are less than half of the corporeal citizenry in my time, than those currently living in your time.”

  Sador immediately picked up on the difference. “Corporeal versus non-corporeal,” he replied. “The climate must be bad indeed, if Penticorians are choosing to download into city constructs.”

  “You are wise in any time, Seiss Sador. I myself am non-corporeal. However, we have evolved beyond single city constructs. I reside in the city of Tulacoss, my fadosh transferred to the city’s Central Interlink.”

  “How can you have a city inside the Interlink?”

  In answer to Thador’s question, Demast answered. “There is a scientist by the name of Lassash, in the city of Kheftor. She is currently engaged in a project where city Interlinks are restructured to form photonic theaters. It is intended to be another form of entertainment, much like Candor’s movies. Only this form is structured for the mind, and not the body. If successful, permanent constructs like cities could be formed, just as the Out-World Faction did. However, the difference is that by using the Interlink, one mass collective is born. And all our citizens, regardless of which city they reside, can live and communicate with each other instantaneously, corporeal or not.”

  “Subsequently, a way was discovered to transfer a fadosh into that construct,” said Amron. “You cannot imagine how wondrous a collective consciousness is. With all our race expressing its passions, desires, thoughts, dreams, and actions.”

  “You still didn’t answer the question,” replied Candor. His mind was reeling at the thought of being human again. “If I go back, do you plan to wipe out humanity?”

  “No, Candor, we will not commit genocide. We have other tools at our disposal that will stop their reckless activities. However, I cannot discuss our plans. Enough damage to the timeline has already been done.”

  Candor slumped to the floor in tears, and soon thereafter, Thalia was by his side. She hugged him fiercely, stopping only to kiss his face, and caress his hair.

  “I can’t,” he said to her. “I can’t do it, Thalia. I can’t lose you, and our family, or my parents. I don’t want to be a human again. I won’t survive it, not if I don’t have you.”

  Thalia wept with him, and after a moment, all his family joined them on the floor. They held each other as the pain washed over them in endless waves. Because they realized that if Candor went back, then he was lost to them forever.

  Jinx was the only holdout, as he confronted Amron. And although he could not express his pain with tears, he still felt the anguish of Candor’s choice. It was a deep sense of loss, with feelings so overwhelming that his thoughts were clouded by the emotions thundering inside of him. “Is there no other way, Amron?” he asked her.

  She smiled in an expression that was both solemn, and sad. Then she reached up and caressed his cheek. “I wish there were, Jinx. You were always his loyal friend, and protector. You are so loved and honored for that devotion.”

  “Can I go in his stead? I would gladly give my life for him.”

  Amron shook her head softly. “I’m afraid not, Jinx. This is Candor’s choice to make.”

  “Some choice,” Candor said while still in the arms of his family. “I must go back and die as a human, or cause the end of the continuum. There is no choice.”

  Amron frowned, and she appeared on the verge of weeping. “To be apart from those that we love is an egregious fate, Candor. Yet I implore you to take solace in the knowledge that by your sacrifice, they will live.”

  “I’m so sorry, Thalia,” he whispered in her ear as all of them rose to their feet. “If I had known, I would never have bonded with you. I would have spared you this pain so you could be with your family now, on Enos Penticoras.”

  “Hush, my husband. I’ll not be inclined to accept, nor render recriminations.” Tears flowed down her delicate cheeks as her fingers caressed his brow. “I have had these many centuries with you, worth a million ships to a million planets. And we have fine children, etts esstoné.”

  “We do indeed,” he agreed, hugging her while kissing her lips. “You bore them with love and grace, and they shall always be true to you.”

  “Please,” Thalia implored him. “Please promise me that you will survive. Promise me that you will seek a way to find joy in life again.”

  Candor knew in his heart that if he made the promise, he would be lying. He vowed a long time ago that he would never lie to his beloved. So instead he told her, “I swear that I will be waiting for you in the arms of Eos, and I will love you forever.”

  “And I love you, my husband!”

  As they embraced, the weight of Thalia’s loss crushed him. Candor felt like he was already dead, and his body had only to catch up with him.

  “Mother, Father,” he called as he embraced them. “Your love has meant everything to me. I pray only that I was a good son, worthy of your love.”

  “Oh!” exclaimed a sobbing Janesska. “A better son shall never be found in all of Penticore Prime. You take my heart with you, little one. I fear that I shall never recover.”

  “I wanted to tell you,” replied Sador through quivering lips. “But I hesitated, because I knew what it would mean. I didn’t want to face it, because I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you. Forgive me, Candor! Please forgive a father’s pride, and a father’s love!”

  Candor hugged both of his parents. “Father, there is nothing to forgive. I shall love you forever. Even as a human, I am your son! Mother, I die inside to be parted from you. I am forever your ‘little one.’ Please, w
atch over Thalia, and my children. Don’t let them despair.”

  “We will keep them with love and honor, always. I swear it, my son,” replied Sador.

  Candor approached his children, and the pain they shared together was more than he could bear. All their lives he was there for them. They loved together, played together, and learned together. They shared their lives so freely, that each one felt the torment of the other.

  “I will live each day to bring honor to your name, Father,” said Thador.

  “This can’t be the end!” Vesspa wept as she hugged him. In Candor’s eyes, she was still the little child that clung to him each day, looking up at her father with both love and admiration. “I’ll find a way to save you, I swear it!”

  “Thador, I am proud of you. Promise me that you will look after our family. And Vesspa, my sweet daughter, you mustn’t interfere. I go where I must go, and I do this so that you all may live. I love you both so much!”

  At last, he came to Jinx, and even though the simulacrum could not cry, he hugged Candor. Gripping him with such strength that if he’d held on longer, he would have broken Candor’s back.

  “Guard them, my dear friend. Protect them always, for me.”

  “Seiss Candor,” began Jinx, “you have been both kind and loving to me always. Yet more, you treated me as more than a Seneschal. You let me become a part of something larger than myself, you made me a true part of this family. I swear upon my life, that while I live, no harm shall befall them. Unless…”

  Jinx turned to look at Amron. “If he must go, then can I go with him? Oxygen has no effect on me.”

  Amron regarded the empty space beside her, and a hole in the fabric of spacetime appeared, taking the form of a brilliant white light. A small black orb emerged, which expanded, until at last it was large enough for Candor to pass through. “I’m sorry, Jinx,” she said. “I’m afraid that this journey can only be made by Candor. The link along the strings of the continuum do not intersect with your time. This is a bridge from my time, and it connects the two timelines in the continuum. It is only open for a short time, twenty years in total. It leads here, and back to Candor’s human body, a place that you cannot go.”