by Joe Vasicek
The last thing he saw before passing out was Reva, standing like a goddess in all her terrible glory.
Birth of a Nation
Reva surveyed the scene around her. The alarms still blared, but every living soul on the ship besides herself was unconscious and under her control. No, that wasn’t quite right—they were under the collective’s control. She could feel the telepathic awareness that bound them all together, and above all else, the presence of the immense alien consciousness that saw her as its mother. That consciousness spoke with a single thought, as urgent and powerful as the drive for life itself:
TAKE US TO THE STARS.
She stepped carefully over Olug’s body, lying in a pool of rapidly darkening blood. Someone would have to clean up that mess before too long. Isaac lay a short distance away, with Timur farther down the hall. She would have to reward the young man for saving her life. But those things could wait—there were other tasks that needed to be done first.
“Isaac.”
She knelt by his side and touched him on the shoulder. Instantly, his eyes fluttered, and he began to stir. At first, he scrambled wildly, but soon he regained his bearings and sat up.
Where am I? What happened?
“You’re all right,” said Reva, smiling as she put a hand on his arm. “It’s over. We won.”
For the briefest moment, she felt in his mind a touch of the same desire that had consumed them both when the alien consciousness had first entered them. He suppressed it quickly, though, and blocked her from seeing into his mind any further.
“You’ve assimilated them all,” he stated flatly.
“Not just me, Isaac—we all have. They’re part of us now.”
He blinked and rubbed his eyes. “Stars of Holy Earth.”
“First things first,” she said, rising to her feet. “You’re half-starved from the way the pirates treated you. Let’s get you something to eat.”
He followed her to the mess hall, where the pirates were still lying after Timur had taken them down. Reva remembered the brief knife fight that had spurred Timur to action. The knife still lay where it had been knocked from the pirate’s hand, a wicked blade with a ring at the end that was designed to fit onto the little finger. With her telepathic abilities, she could tell that Timur had gotten off lucky.
“Have a seat,” she said, motioning to the nearest table. “What can I get for you?”
Isaac eyed the unconscious pirates as if unwilling to sit down anywhere near them.
Don’t worry. They won’t be waking up soon. Not until I allow it.
That’s even worse.
Reva frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” he said quickly. He sat down at the table and leaned heavily on his elbows.
“We have as much time as we need,” she explained. “Eventually, we’ll have to wake them, but for now it’s just the two of us. So what do you want?”
“Something warm,” he said, thinking of vegetable soup. Even through his telepathic shield, his hunger gave her a clear picture of exactly what he wanted.
“On it,” she said. “Make yourself comfortable.”
As she turned her back to him, she felt another desire emanating from his mind—one that had little to do with food. The moment she noticed, Isaac blocked it off.
“It’s okay,” she said as she toggled the food synthesizer. “You can stare at me all you want. I don’t mind.”
Isaac’s cheeks turned bright red. “Aren’t you going to put on some clothes?”
“Why should I?”
“But the way the men—”
“If they can see into my mind, what’s the point of covering my body?” she said. “Don’t worry, they’ll come around. When they can see my thoughts and memories, they’ll stop looking at me as an object and see me as a human being.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s already started with Jebe and Timur. Once I gain the crew’s respect, it’s only a matter of time before they come along as well.”
She retrieved the bowl of steaming soup and carried it to the table in both hands. From the look on Isaac’s face, though, he still didn’t seem convinced.
“I still think it would be better if you put on some clothes.”
“There’s nothing inherently sexual about the naked human body,” she said, sitting down in front of him. “The only reason you think otherwise is because you aren’t used to seeing people unclothed. I grew up in a culture where nudity was the norm, and we weren’t nearly as sex-obsessed as you people.”
Then why were you the one who couldn’t control herself?
“That was different,” she said quickly. “We both got carried away. The telepathic bond was new to us, and your needs were so strong that I—”
“No, Reva. What happened was rape, pure and simple.”
She sighed. “I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of it, Isaac. I mean, yes, it was wrong, but—”
“But now you’ve gone and raped every person on this ship. That mind-control thing you did, knocking everyone unconscious and binding them to the collective—that’s mind rape, Reva. When are you going to take responsibility for your own actions?”
He stared her in the eye, the anger in his gaze burning like fire. It took her aback, not the least because there had been no telepathic warning. Then again, he’d cut himself off from her almost entirely. She’d lost his trust, and it was going to be difficult to earn it back.
“I’m sorry, Isaac.” Really, I am.
“Are you?”
“What can I do to show it to you?” she asked, her hands palm up.
Isaac took a spoonful of the soup and savored it. His telepathic wall was so strong, though, that Reva couldn’t feel any of it.
Take responsibility for what you’ve done.
She rolled her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“How do I know that you’re not just going to keep controlling us the way you have been? That you’re not going to use this alien collective to turn us into a hive mind without any individual consciousness?”
She realized that he had a point. It was difficult to telepathically control the pirates against their will, but it was possible to turn them into drones by erasing their individuality. That would be tantamount to murder, though.
“I would never do that,” she said, horrified. “What makes you think I would?”
“Because you’ve already crossed the line, Reva. If right and wrong mean anything to you, you need to step back over that line and promise never to cross it again.”
“All right,” she said. “You’re right. I mind-raped the pirates because it was the only way to save our lives, and it was wrong, even though it still saved us.”
This isn’t taking responsibility, Reva.
“The hell it isn’t. What do you expect from me? An apology for saving you?”
I expect to see a little remorse.
“Whatever,” she said, throwing her hands up in the air. “I’m just going to shut up, because in your eyes I obviously can’t do anything right.”
Isaac stared at her as if trying to come up with a retort. Then he sighed and shook his head, the anger leaking out of him.
“Would you like to know why I was saving myself?”
“Sure,” she said, giving him a shrug. “Why not?”
He returned to the soup and ate another spoonful, closing his eyes. His telepathic shield lifted, revealing faces that Reva had only briefly glimpsed from his memory. Now, they were more clear to her, with a host of associations bound up with each one.
The first was Isaac’s father, tall and proud, a star wanderer like his father before him. The second was Isaac’s mother, shrewd but tender, a strong woman who cared fiercely for the ones she loved. She saw Isaac’s younger brother, carefree and reckless, and his sister, the baby of the family, with a warm smile and a cheery disposition.
Tears came to Reva’s eyes from the depth of the emotions that Isaac felt for them.
She felt love that burned brighter than any star, and loyalty that was stronger than the bonds of death. There was acceptance and belonging, too, but more than that a sense of meaning—a purpose that drove everything he did. Even though many of these were people that he’d never see again, Isaac still felt bound to them, and would for the rest of his life.
This is your family?
Some of them, yes. But not all.
The vision in Reva’s mind expanded, until she saw dozens of similar faces. Some of them had faded more than the others, but they were all part of the extended family network that Isaac still called his own. She saw his memories of the famine at his home, how his father had been forced to take their family across the stars, and how they had lived as poor refugees in the face of hatred and prejudice. Yet through it all, the family had stayed together, cramped together in a tiny apartment, yet full love and life.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “Why are you showing me this?”
Isaac set his spoon down and wiped his mouth. “Because this is what I hope to have someday.”
“A place to belong?”
“A family,” he said. “A wife and children, not half a dozen women scattered across the Outworlds.”
“And that’s what you feel I took from you?”
“The responsible way to have a family is to wait to have sex until you’re married. That’s why I was waiting.”
“But what about your needs?” she asked. “We all have needs.”
“Sex is more than just a bodily need,” he answered. “It’s the power to bring life into existence, and to create a deep emotional bond with another human being. When misused, it can be one of the most destructive forces in human society.”
Reva paused. “Do you feel we misused it?”
“Of course! Did we make any commitment to each other before we did it? Was there any thought of the possible consequences? What am I supposed to do if you get pregnant? And even if you don’t, there’s no other woman I can share that kind of intimacy with and know that she’s the only one.”
“I had no idea that’s what it meant to you, Isaac. I’m sorry.”
In that moment, Reva saw just how much the guilt would pile up on him if she did become pregnant. To bring another life into existence, without a strong family to belong to—he would never be able to forgive himself. That was why he he’d so adamantly denied himself, because he valued the needs of his future family above his own. It still wasn’t healthy to suppress his own needs, but neither was her misguided attempt to satisfy them.
What have I done? she thought, the guilt starting to rack her. I’m a monster.
Now do you feel remorse?
Yes, she thought to him. Yes, I do. I’m sorry, Isaac. This time, I really am.
He took a deep breath. “I believe you.”
“So what do we do, now?” she asked, her hands trembling. She closed her eyes and rested her forehead on her fingertips.
“We fix our mistakes,” he said. “Step back over the line we crossed and promise not to cross back over it.”
“But we can’t remove the telepathic link. You felt it when Olug died, didn’t you? The energy being that was bound to him, it died with him.”
Isaac frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Can’t you feel it? These alien energy beings are symbionts. Once they’ve bonded with us, they can only be separated by death.”
As she explained it to him, she could feel the alien collective confirm that it was true. Half a dozen of the energy beings still brooded inside of her, eager for a chance to meld with a human and establish the telepathic bond. Together, they were neither fully human nor fully alien, but a complex blending of the two.
“Then I don’t know,” Isaac admitted. “If we’re inseparably bound to these pirates, we’re kind of screwed.”
“No,” said Reva, remembering Gulchina’s words. You can become the mother of a great nation.
A nation of thugs and criminals?
Leave that to me.
* * * * *
Timur slept fitfully, his mind awake but his body unconscious. He felt as if he were drowning just beneath the surface of an ocean, but every time he tried to get some air, an invisible force pushed him down. Beneath the water, the darkness of the abyss threatened to swallow him, and it was all he could do not to panic.
From the depths of the abyss, he heard voices calling out to him. Some of them were voices he knew, members of the Temujin crew. Others seemed strangely inhuman. Above them all, resounding with a low, rhythmic hum, he heard a voice as alien as any creature of the deep:
TO THE STARS.
Without warning, he felt a hand reach out to him, pulling him up. He rose above the water and gasped for air, only to find himself lying on the floor of the Temujin, soaked in his own sweat.
“You’re okay,” came a man’s voice. He looked up and recognized the prisoner they’d picked up on the planet, the man who had been with Reva.
My name is Isaac, the man’s voice came into his head.
“How did you do that?” Timur asked. Then he remembered the takeover of the Temujin. Reva’s voice had spoken in his head just like Isaac’s, and he had seen through both of their eyes throughout the whole thing.
In fact, he could see himself in Isaac’s eyes, lying frightened on the floor. At the same time, he saw through Reva’s eyes as well, down in Gulchina’s luxurious quarters, browsing through her records. It seemed impossible that he could see simultaneously through multiple sets of eyes, but somehow his mind was processing it all without confusion. He set the other views in the back of his mind and looked up at Isaac.
“We’re not here to hurt you,” said Isaac. “We’re here to help.”
“How?”
He reached down and helped Timur to his feet. Timur’s panic slowly subsided, though he could still feel the abyss in the back of his thoughts.
“You’ve been assimilated into a collective consciousness,” Isaac explained. “That collective now includes everyone on board the Temujin.” You can see through their eyes and speak to them through thoughts, just like we are doing right now.
“Was that what the battle was all about?”
Isaac nodded.
The voice from the deep came back into his mind. It came from the black abyss, which still threatened to swallow him.
TO THE STARS.
“What was that?”
“Don’t worry about it,” said Isaac, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Listen, if the voices bother you, it’s possible to block them off.”
“Really?”
“Yes. It will also prevent other members of the collective from reading your thoughts.”
Timur frowned. What’s that supposed to mean?
As if in response, he felt a presence in his mind, poking around in his memories. He shoved it out, but it came again, like a nosy unwanted visitor trying to step past him through a door. He pushed it out and shut the door, palming the keypad to lock out the prodding presence.
“Good work,” said Isaac. “You’re catching on fast.”
Timur looked at himself through Isaac’s eyes and tried to read his thoughts, but found that he was blocked. When he entered Reva’s mind, however, he met with surprisingly little resistance.
Reva closed her eyes as Timur dug through in her mind. He seemed reluctant to go very far, so she brought up some memories to help him. Her father, the chief engineer, secretly building the cryochamber that would preserve her life after all her people were dead. Her sister-in-law, painting the intricate henna tattoos across her skin. Their last tearful conversation together. Hugging her father and lying down in the chamber, to sleep in the ice for decades or perhaps even centuries.
Timur started. “What the hell was that?”
“What did you see?”
“I saw a bunch of naked people, painting my body and putting me to sleep in a cryotank. One of them was my father, though not at all like I remember him.”
“Reva’s memori
es,” Isaac told him. “She doesn’t close her mind off like the rest of us.” Thinks it’s a better way to lead.
Timur frowned again. What do you mean “us”?
A new voice entered his mind, this time from the girl.
We are all telepathically connected, she explained to him. We are neither fully human, nor fully alien. We maintain our individual agency, but also possess the capability to join minds.
Timur didn’t know what to think. He could feel the abyss rising up again, threatening to overwhelm him.
“One thing at a time,” said Isaac. “First, what’s your name?”
“Timur,” he answered. But that wasn’t the first name that came to his mind.
“That’s the name that Gulchina gave you. Do you still want to use it?”
No.
“Then tell us your real name.”
It had been so long since Timur had dared to use his real name, he was still a bit reluctant to speak it. But taking a deep breath, he set his apprehensions aside.
“My name is Tomas.”
Immediately, he felt relief wash over him. It was as if he had been liberated from an invisible chain. Gulchina had taken his name from him, and with it his old life, but now that he was free to be Tomas again he no longer felt bound to her.
“Very well, Tomas. Where are you from, and how did you join Gulchina’s Marauders?”
“It was after the Battle of Colkhia,” he explained, the memories flooding back to him. “I was a star wanderer before the war, and joined because it seemed like the right thing to do. But I lost my father’s starship at Colkhia, and the Confederacy refused to replace it. They wanted me to join their battle fleet as a control tech, but I didn’t think that was good enough. Then Gulchina allied with the Confederacy, and I decided to throw in with her Marauders. Instead of fighting the Imperials, though, they put me on the Temujin and dragged me way the hell out here.”
“Gulchina is a traitor to the Confederacy,” Isaac said in disgust. “But that’s beside the point. Do you know why we woke you first?”