As he revelled in this new way of being, he felt himselves continue splitting, dividing again and again. He grew in awareness with each exponential increase, and as he did, those far from him became more distinct. They did not move towards him, they held fast and took on more definition, each of his beings probing and exploring others. As he expanded something else began to occupy his environment. A growing sense of anticipation and excitement was building. His beings felt it and it rippled amongst the others. He was surprised to feel such things, having moments before felt emotion dissolve, but here it was, back. His journey was not a straight path. This new feeling had hints of sexual excitement and childlike glee, and through it ran the promise of union, that which the others longed for, and that which he now understood would unlock the things he needed most; power and understanding.
Time moved forwards without a sense of it passing or mattering, until the multiples of him equalled the numbers of the others in a symmetry of existence. With that balance achieved, the laws of the universe dictated what would happen next. The inevitable expansion of his-selves, the weight of their being and the urgent need of the others collapsed in on itself. The multitudes of being stopped expanding, and contracted in an instant rush of entropy driven life essence. Just as suns reached the nadir of their lives and could no longer sustain their own mass, so the lives there collapsed in on themselves. The fuel of multiple being was exhausted, and only one could remain.
He felt the collapse of many into one, and embraced each of them in himself. Each had once been a part of him, and each was now re-united with the one from which they had sprung. Each still had a part to play. Each had a perspective to offer. Each had a power to give. But it was the whole, united in one, that multiplied and expanded himself beyond anything that had been possible before. They had all become him. He felt himself flex senses that only this union could have empowered. He connected with new places. He let himself explore his new powers, and just as he had once marvelled at the scope of the vehicles presence in the void, so he now unfolded perception across light years. He gasped at his own scale and power; a shock that shot through him and away faster than the photons he felt brush his senses.
He felt others awaken to his presence. A sun looked at him, and in a startling moment of connection, acknowledged his presence. It regarded him with curiosity and the respect of an equal.
“Welcome to life” it said, “What will you do with it, Ansti?”
It would have taken decades, to send that message to a man. Years of what he would have been seen as changes in light radiating from the surface of a giant thermonuclear explosion. But here and now, it took no time at all. The message was instantly clear, and Ansti searched himself for an answer. It came as quickly as the question had been posed.
“I’ll restore the balance. I will return that which has been lost to the people from who it was taken.” The sun regarded him briefly and as it did Ansti felt its connection with others of its kind. For a moment he let himself join the conversation it had with its race, but as he delved into that exchange, the scale of it appalled him. Even in his new state of being, the infinite and timeless exchange between the stars was too much for him to embrace. His mind and soul had expanded beyond anything that humankind could have believed possible, and yet it still had limitations. The suns felt him recoil and moved to shield him. They protected him with gentle nurturing tenderness, and in their own way smiled at him. There was joy in recognising new life, and also a sense that it was vulnerable. They enjoyed this new thing and did not want to see it perish.
Emissaries came, summoned by their giant masters. They moved in the infinite depths and on the specks of rock, gas and liquid that the fragile sentients inhabited. One had already been exposed to the proto-form of this new life, and it recognised the essence. They had travelled and fought together, and it had formed a bond with the man that once thought himself its master. It had saved his old life. That man had become something new, and the emissary sensed the power and scale while still recognising him. Now, they met as equals and regarded each other. He had once felt it expand and frolic across light years, and as he remembered its pleasure, it invited him to play too. It sent him an invitation and mirrored him as he unfolded across void and brushed worlds. Other emissaries watched them as they played in space and time, and learnt each others powers.
Ansti reached into space and felt it full of life and energy and matter. Had he been in a human body he would have laughed. The void — an empty space in human minds, synonymous with endless nothing — was a rich ecosystem teeming with life. Humans were blind to its beauty and could not grasp the scale of it. Now, in his new form Ansti, could. The wonder was extraordinary. He had been granted new senses by joining with some of those who lived here, and now he moved in a galactic ocean that pulsed with the calls of the life within. A human memory flashed into his thoughts. He remembered swimming in a sea, and experiencing the same wonder and freedom. How insignificant that seemed now when presented with the option to move in infinity and eternity. Ansti was liberated.
An emissary approached him flooding his perception with lessons from the void. Ansti understood how to move, how to persuade and flex and shift so that the things around him cooperated with his desires. He moved the focus of his presence from one solar system to another and did so instantly. Now he understood that which he had thought closed to him. He did not move himself because he was everywhere, he focused on a point; let his attention go there so the place became the totality of his reality. When his attention relaxed everything else simply returned to him. And yet there were limits. Suns described the possibilities and they were finite. These giant lives had motivations of their own, motivations that kept some paths open and some closed. Ansti sensed the possibility that these paths existed but he could not focus on them. His attention glided off the surface as water slips down a polished surface. So that much had not changed.
Then there were ships. Tiny, fragile, specs of matter with lives on board. Ansti felt the pilots yearning to be somewhere, and suns responding by flicking their focus to that place, washing the little craft there on a ripple of their will. He remembered what it was to pilot; the pride and the sense of power used for good. It had fed his ego. From this new perspective, from the perspective of a citizen of the void, those things seemed inconsequential. He wondered why suns even bothered with the fleeting lives of people, Praveen, Tash-eh, Helvyani, and other planet bound species. Suns answered with something like paternal pride. These little things were sentient and bathed in the light of suns. Though few saw it, and less believed it, they too were sun-blessed; alive because the photons made it so. A life however brief and limited is a life, they said. It is a thing to be nurtured because every life enriches the universe.
Ansti had been responsible for lives too. There was a small group, led by a complex man who wished to right a wrong. He sensed them, suspended and locked in the void, without a means to move. They did not know where they were and so could not imagine a path, could not express a need that suns could focus on, and even if they could they had no means to communicate it. Ansti understood now that they had been arrested here by those that had released him; the par-born. He understood the par-born’s power, and felt their need to leave the ecosystem of infinite possibilities and rejoin with tiny sacks of flesh and bone. They gave up so much in their desperate need to be within so little. No wonder they hated him for making them. At least now they were at peace; united within a single entity. An entity that considered a return to that confinement.
He had called them friends. Fought for them and with them. He had once longed to be re-united with them. But that was before. Before he had discovered the void, and the possibilities of true life. He searched and probed within himself and found that these old feelings had no meaning. No matter what happened now, the lives of his former companions would end long before his began to dissipate and disperse. It was impossible to see their needs as meaningful in any way when compared to the possibil
ities he could create. And yet, their mission could resolve an imbalance. The void had been polluted by their presence, an undesirable wash of their selves was smeared in it each time they travelled. Suns felt it, the vehicles felt it and other life forms that transcended even his new understanding felt it. The universe was recoiling from the seeping terrestrial emotions that were not meant for this place, emotions that became magnified by it and created aberrations. Suns, it seemed, would not intervene, but perhaps now he could?
These little lives could live and move in a new way, if they could restore their power. They had played with possibilities as best they could and found one just as others of their kind had moved against them. Ansti could help them finish what they planned. In many ways it was an ugly solution; the shedding of little lives to protect other little lives. Yet it would work, but only if he helped now. He saw them balanced on the edge of a Helvyani trap. The trap was elegant, beautiful, and exquisitely deadly to them. It would be a wonderful way to die. They would want death so much, and embrace it fully. He could stop that, but could he deny them a beautiful death when their end was inevitable soon and the alternatives were all so desperate and painful?
Chapter 18.
Tears dribbled down Tannen’s cheek. His world was one of failure, and he felt consciousness fading under the relentless pressure of pain. Ashur flashed concern and insistent questions, but Tannen was too pre-occupied with his own woe to answer. He had failed, they had all failed, and death beckoned he was sure. He had no idea how they had been stopped or what was happening, but he suspected the Helvyani trap had been sprung even while they debated its nature. It had disabled them, taken their pilot and his means of moving, and now time would finish them. There was no point in struggling to live, especially when the slow time of space had turned life itself into torture. Death when it came would be a release.
The world outside had almost faded from Tannen’s consciousness, but what his soul no longer wished to feel, his body could not help but sense. Nerves still worked and sent signals to his brain. Old habits did not die as easily as the will to live. Sweat dribbled into his eye and Tannen raised a hand to wipe it away. He did so in a fluid flowing motion, without even thinking. It was so easy that he missed this first clue, but when he slumped and a jolt of pain sent an arm quickly and accurately to the floor to prevent more movement, he understood. His body was familiar again, and the forces of physics worked as it had learnt them. Slow-time had ended. They had emerged from jump.
Footsteps rang in the corridor, and voices too. They mingled with Tannen’s thoughts; the dream-like state of half consciousness mixing inner and outer realities. He felt pressure on him and bodies around him. For one instant he remembered the par-borns’ touch and fear filled him. But these were not par-born. He heard Ashur’s voice and felt more pressure, then a delicious sense of wellbeing filled him and pain dissolved. Hands and something soft and mechanical moved his body. He was aware that the chemicals of pain flooded him as he was moved; he should have been wracked with agony, but now pain had no power, and he felt only gentle life force returning.
As the pain cleared he looked at his companions and saw concern written over their faces. They worked quickly and some were armed. Those with weapons faced away from him and towards the pilot’s room. Ashur did the same. He had not spoken to Tannen or looked at him. Something was in there that they feared, and it held Ashur’s attention fully.
Tannen was lifted and settled into a couch. He felt soothing connections touch him and reassuring waves of comfort wash over him. Healing began instantly. There was movement too. He was being taken somewhere else. With the protection of his fellows and the soothing balm of the couch relieving his pain Tannen had found his courage again, and now he wanted to stay. He wanted to know if Ansti had been taken, and how exactly they had completed their jump. He felt that the key to his survival and the success of the mission was still behind that door.
He flashed a message to the couch and it stopped moving, causing one of his attendant fellows to bump into it and sprawl onto him. There was a moment of embarrassed apology and a presumption that the couch had malfunctioned. Tannen made it clear that he wanted to stay. He’d half killed himself to get here, and stared death in the face when he arrived. Now he wanted to observe. His words came in slurred, slow dribbles adding nothing to the force of his statement. He watched a crew member move to override the couch and set it on its journey again, when a bark filled the air.
“Let him stay. He might know something.”
Ashur wanted him here, and with that made clear, Tannen was manoeuvred back toward the still closed door. He was free to stay and face what was behind it once again.
More crew members arrived. All were armed, and a two were in combat suits. Sun-shit thought Tannen, what are they expecting? Is this a rescue mission, an assassination, or Ashur’s version of risk management? Ashur was the only person speaking.
“Clear the deck” He said in a soft tone. Tannen’s unarmed fellows began moving away until only those with armament were left. The only people now not bearing weapons were himself and Ashur.
“Are we ready? Clear on the protocols? No one does a thing until I order it. If we are attacked, return fire, otherwise the weapons stay locked. Hear me?”
There were nods and one or two flashed affirmations.
“Does anyone have any contact?”
There were no answers.
“OK, I’m going to open it.”
Ashur stood squarely in front of the door and swiped a finger across the lock. Tannen had always thought that the doors opened silently, but now he thought he heard a faint hiss as this one slid away. Perhaps the sound was in his imagination; a projection of the tension that thrummed between them all? In a moment, the room was exposed to them and they to it. Ashur filled the door. He did not move forward, he simply stared into the room. The two crew in combat suits moved to each shoulder. Although Tannen could not sense it, they must be probing the room, using the suits’ active sensors and looking for threats and traps or anomalies that might be something else entirely. Ashur’s body language indicated he was communicating with them on a closed channel. He looked over his shoulder at each in turn, and then he looked at Tannen and beckoned him closer.
Tannen order the couch forward. As he closed Ashur, moved into the room. It was still dark. Tannen could see that much, even as he moved towards the door. The moon-blue light cast eerie shadows deep in the equipment. Ashur was out of sight now, inside the room. The crew in combat suits had to take it in turns to enter, the bulk of their suits preventing them from moving in together. Tactically it was disastrous. Ashur blocked fire into the room and the two most powerful units could not hit a target without firing through him or each other. Had the threat they feared set a trap, they would have once again blundered into it.
But no fire came. The hair-trigger weapons stayed poised to fire, and unused. Tannen watched the three figures edge inside, and as each moved into the pilot’s room, he knew that he was next, and ordered the couch to move. His eyes adjusted to the gloom and he peered around; his view partially blocked by the armour and weapons systems of the combat suits. He had half expected to see Ansti still there within the swirling mass of par-born. He had half expected that mass to set on them and the combat suits to launch attacks. He was prepared to find himself in a conflagration of fire, but instead there was peace. The gentle hum of equipment greeted them. He could just see Ashur, who after a moment of taking in the room, strode forwards. The crew did the same and spread out a little allowing Tannen a view of what was in front of him. He could see why Ashur moved and where. Deeper in the room was the pilot’s couch, and locked in it was a figure.
Ashur continued moving forward until he was close to the couch. One of the crew moved up too and another went off at ninety degrees. Tannen flashed a message at Ashur “Let me in. I’m out of the closed circuit. What’s happening?”
He felt connections form; first a wash of human emotions, and then
the end of an order from Ashur to one of the combat suited crew,
“…right there and look. It’s not there, but see what is.”
As the man moved, the lights came up, gently shifting from dull blue to brighter warmer tones of yellow and orange. It did a good deal to calm Tannen’s nerves when the light found dark recesses and revealed nothing more than equipment and the body of the ship.
The light had the quality of morning, and just as the first rays of the day reveal details hidden by night, so these artificial photons shed meaning on form. Ashur was leaning over the pilot’s couch, his face close to the body occupying it. Tannen was edging closer and now had a clear view. He saw a man, a familiar man he thought, but there was something different about him; something translucent or temporary. He felt it more than saw it, and it made his sense of reality itch. He could not hear conversation. If anything was said it was being whispered, but there was no mistaking the person that Ashur peered at so intently. There, back where he had been before their journey had been frozen, was Ansti.
Ashur beckoned Tannen again, and Tannen approached as close as he could while remaining in the protection of the couch. Ashur turned and looked right at Tannen.
“What do you see Tannen?”
Tannen scanned the scene, wondering if the question was more loaded than it seemed.
The Man Who Talked to Suns Page 25