The male judge was introduced as Vraedan, a tall long-faced Kriar, with thin lips and a slash of a nose. Jhorsis, the female, had an uncharacteristically thick body, her wide face with its upturned eyes and broad mouth just attractive enough to be dignified. They both greeted Eladrazelle with grave expressions, the dip of their heads and the tone of their thoughts showing the utmost respect.
Bannor realized that while no hint of it had been given, Eladrazelle was obviously someone of huge importance on Homeworld. He guessed that made sense, given how the matriarch of all Kriar regarded her so highly.
With the judges looking on, Dulcere and Senalloy created an incomprehensible array of Kriar magic, including a smaller version of the portal device that was set up further down the terrace. Eladrazelle followed a separate agenda, creating, activating, linking and adjusting a plethora of smaller units, many of which attached to the things that the other two set up. The judges did not assist or interfere in any of the work, but they examined everything, asking questions at times concerning a whether a certain protocol or security measure had been observed. Each and every detail was documented with extreme formality and gravity.
“I don’t know what any of it does,” Gaea remarked. “But it is certainly fascinating to watch them build it.”
“To be honest, I find it scary,” Wren said at her shoulder. “I don’t think that’s changed since Marna got an agent into Starholme.”
“What would be scary is if they were all against us,” Ziedra said, looking around. “As it is, those Daergons have made our lives miserable.”
“Retribution is around the corner,” Idun said in her echoing voice. “I can feel it.”
“I hope so, Mother,” Euriel said. “By Yggrasil, I never thought I would hear myself say that I was tiring of battle, but I dare I have had my fill of late.”
“If there’s a way to end this thing, I swear I’ll find it,” Bannor rumbled.
Eladrazelle finished something she was doing and stopped by him. The two judges looked on from behind her.
The elder Kriar looked over her shoulder and frowned.
“What I trust is those Daergons are frelling insane,” Daena growled, gripping her auburn hair. “To use that genemar thing…” She held her hands out, fingers curved into claws. “It’s—just—” She sputtered to a stop apparently unable to find a word strong enough.
The elder Kriar nodded. She focused on Senalloy who was standing at Dulcere’s shoulder.
The silver-haired Baronian tipped her head and smiled.
“This sure is a big production,” Bannor said, looking around at all humming machines, crystals blinking and flashing. “I hope it’s worth all the effort.”
“You’re the boss,” he said.
She looked back to them, obviously explaining for their sake and that of the judges observing.
She continued make adjustments in the table, verifying settings and making sure the judges took note of them.
He held up his hand to stop her. “No headache, right?”
The Kriar lady grinned.
Bannor settled back as she placed the thing over his eyes, and busied herself.
“We’ll get this over with,” Gaea said her echoing voice soothing through him. She rubbed his arm, making his whole body tingle. “I’ll get you back in an appropriate body so you can be with Sarai.”
“Good,” he murmured.
The inside of the mask lit up, showing in it a confusion of Kriar writing that the shaladen translated but still made no sense to him. In moments, the writing was replaced by fluctuating patterns that shifted, pulsed and changed, altering their shape, color, and movement.
“Yes.”
“Red.”
The image turned and became blue.
“Blue.” It shifted again. “Green.”
He had no problem with visualizing patterns. He projected the green pattern inward, and once there began shifting its color toward white. After a moment he paused in surprise—it didn’t want to be white. How could a pattern not want something? It was simply a shape projected on a crystal inside a mask.
It was like wrestling, as he would shift one of the petals of the flower shape toward white, another section would alter its hue. It finally took him imagining each extension being gripped and willing the color to shift.
The color snapped into place, as it did so it made his whole body twitch and an icy sensation made his skin crawl.
He didn’t know what all this had to do with anything but did as instructed, grappling with each shape and altering its color. Each success made that icy feeling rush through him. The first few took effort, but he learned the trick of it, and they grew easier.
The table under Bannor vibrated and grew warm under his back, a cold tingling shot through the gems at his waist, collarbone, and forehead. The shapes he had been watching in the mask broke up into a blizzard of whizzing white, gray, an
d black dots.
“Data stream is locked,” Senalloy said. “Primary and redundant stores are recording, the subnet is engaged and actively cycling the ciphers.”
“Feel strange,” he mumbled.
“Understood,” the Baronian lady said in cool voice. “Flash data copy in progress.”
“Done,” the Baronian said.
The sparkling in Bannor’s mask went black and the tingling in his body stopped.
The Belkirin’s thought rang hard.
Moments passed. Bannor lifted the mask off his eyes, removed the cords attached to his face and body, and sat up. The judges stood rooted, gazes intent as they stood behind Dulcere observing whatever she was doing.
He felt the tension in the air and his hearts thumped even though he didn’t really understand what was going on. Eladrazelle was challenging the Daergons in her own way; waging a battle of artifices and information. Dulcere and Senalloy sat hunched forward in front of the display crystals, fingers flickering over the many controls of the devices, studying the symbols that flew by.
Little Eladrazelle, pushed past Judge Vraedan and leaned over Dulcere’s shoulder, gaze intent as she studied everything the younger Kriar did.
Eladrazelle ordered.
The three women worked together in close concert calling out and acknowledging as they ‘pursued’ the enemy through the system, almost but not quite catching them.
After about a breath, Eladrazelle drew a finger across her throat.
Senalloy thumbed a button on her console. “Done.”
Eladrazelle sighed and puffed out her cheeks.
The judges stepped back with grave expressions on their faces. It was obvious neither of them liked what they had seen.
“I don’t understand,” Bannor said. “It sounded like you just let them change and delete a bunch of the information.”
Eladrazelle responded, putting a hand on Dulcere’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze. The younger female looked up and smiled, obviously fond of elder woman.
“Clever,” Gaea lauded.
Eladrazelle bowed to the judge.
Judge Vraeden rubbed his face. If anything he looked even more unhappy than Jhorsis.
The two judges said a few words of parting, gathered their guards, and left the way they had come.
Arms folded, Gaea watched them go. “No offense,” she said. “But I am somewhat glad to see those two go. They made me—itchy.”
Bannor shook his head. The conspiracy was even bigger than they imagined, and something that would obviously be a huge blow to the citizens of Fabrista Homeworld.
Gaea changed the subject. “So I take it then that everything you needed this body for is done? I can get Bannor sorted out?”
Bannor hopped off the diagnostic table and walked over with the others. The chamber that had been unoccupied earlier now had an occupant. The form inside resembled the one that Marna made on Homeworld with some subtle differences. The muscle structure looked less exaggerated and the face looked closer to what he used to see in the mirror. The shaggy mop of dark hair more closely resembled his original as well.
“It’s a more you you,” Daena said with a grin.
“It’s still too tall,” he mumbled. “All the elves looked at me funny to begin with. Why does it have to be the size of a tree?”
“Excuse me?” Daena said, tapping him on the shoulder. “Tree?”
“You can change your shape,” he grumbled. “It doesn’t matter what size your native shape is.”
“He’s right, Dane,” Wren said. “We have the potential to do the things you do, but you inherited a lot of powers from Hella that will take us summers to learn.”
Daena snorted. “Hmph. I still don’t like being called a tree.”
“And I love every one of your branches,” Gaea said with warm smile. She gazed intently at the body for a few moments. “It seems adequate to me.” She focused on Eladrazelle. “How shall we proceed?”
“Yes,” Gaea answered. “A bell or more.”
“I will keep him alive long enough to do the switch,” Gaea said.
“Bannor, there is one caveat to all this,” Gaea said. “The process of destroying your original body and forcibly tearing yourself out of the sword has severely injured your core. Once I fix you in the new body, you should not try any astral tricks until fully healed. The link to the body will be tenuous and it will be difficult to resync without outside assistance.”
“I understand,” he replied. “I’m ready.”
Eladrazelle led him over to the other chamber and he climbed in.
“All right, my Son,” Gaea said. “My turn.” She placed a green hand over his chest and bowed her head. A pulse of magical energy thrummed around the All-mother’s body and her skin began to gleam. The entire giant dome overhead dimmed as the goddess summoned her power.
She contained it so well it was easy to forget the awesome energies that Gaea possessed. He felt her presence expand and engulf him. It felt like a wind blowing through his nola.
Gaea stroked a glowing hand down the length of his body. As goddess’ fingers trailed over his skin, a grayish ‘cloud’ collected in her palm, the nebulous substance swirling into a ball that grew in size as she made three circuits back and forth.
She brought her hands together on either side of the flickering shape and sparks whirled around it, forming a white skin of light around the shadowy substance. “There,” she said. “Got him.” She grimaced. “Not such a nice fellow.”
Bannor eyed the gray spirit essence. “Why is it dark like that?”
“Obviously because he is a villain,” Idun said.
“Dark with his deeds to be certain,” Eladrazelle remarked. She focused glittering black eyes on Gaea with an earnest expression of respect. “That was amazing, Mother Gaea. As far as we have advanced, there’s still so much to learn.”
The goddess smiled. She relaxed the crackling aura of strength around her.
“Bannor, see if you can pull yourself out of there.”
He started to comply and moved to get more comfortable. Pushing against the side of the cylinder the reflection of his left hand caught his attention. The shaladen. He couldn’t leave that on Rhajgon.
He held up his arm that had become entangled with Garadhyr. “Uh, I better fix this first.”
Gaea nodded. “Ah, yes, you’re right.”
He took a few breaths, bracing himself. This would hurt. Gritting his teeth, he willed the weapon to once again become a sword. Shafts of pain raked through him as the magical metal oozed out of the pores of his skin and slowly reformed into a blade. He grunted, breath hissing through his teeth as he held in a scream. After what seemed like an eternity the shaladen had separated itself. He fell back with a gasp, chest heaving.
Reality's Plaything 5: The Infinity Annihilator Page 54