by T. R. Harris
Nunki teleported us somewhere, was his first thought. It would make sense after watching the Formation cases disappear. But teleportation was not done on living beings; however, the Masters were not living beings in the traditional sense. Even so, something wasn’t right. There were memories—fragments only—that had not been there before. Where did they come from, and what did they mean?
Then Garus remembered the quantum anchors and the strange sensation that filled him while in their grasp. He understood the quantum universe—as much as anyone could. He knew what Nunki was trying to do. But perhaps he needed more power and a sophisticated facility to effectuate the Master’s transition into what was expected to be a quantum prison for the trio. But this was no research facility. Instead, it looked to be a cargo hold.
And that’s when Garus noticed the three strange creatures standing in a cluster staring at him. The beings were tall and robust figures with black skin. They took the general form of the Aris and the Luz, although taller and broader, more muscular. The Aris had evolved beyond the need for physical strength, so these creatures must be primitive. Guard animals of some sort? Whatever they were, Garus did not recognize the species, and he knew every species that still existed in the galaxy. A few rogue races survived at the end of the Second Epoch, but none were as developed physically as these three.
One of the aliens was speaking, yet using verbal language rather than telepathy. Garus sought a mental connection but found none. However, there was something…
Who are they? Panof asked rhetorically. They are strange, primitive. However, notice the control panels and displays, the clothing they wear and the instruments they carry on their person. We would have known of such a breed.
For understanding, we must gain verbal communication skills, Docem stated. The mastery of which we have not used for quite some time. He looked at Garus and repeated aloud in the Aris's ancient language the words he just thought. I have done it! The sensation in my mouth and throat is stimulating. So much goes into forming spoken words!
And that was when Garus stepped forward and ripped a small electronic device from behind the ear of one of the aliens. The flesh tore easily, although the extraction process proved messy and resulted in the death of the strange creature. Garus returned to the others with the blood-covered device.
It appears to be an electronic transmitter of primitive design, said Docem. Even so, I believe we can adjust our implants to interface with the programming.
“Languages,” Panof said aloud, also testing his verbal ability. “It connects to a database of languages. But so many.” He seemed satisfied with his first effort at speaking since … since his creation. “It must be an instinctive memory,” he said to the others.
The Masters synchronized their telepathic implants to the database, and moments later, had absorbed several hundred languages, with thousands more to ingest. Thousands of languages. Garus found it amazing. From where did they come? Was he in the quantum universe? Was this an alternate reality full of strange beings, thousands of them?
He would think on that later. At the moment, the aliens' words could now be understood and carried within them all the frenetic emotion one would expect from such primitives.
“Why did you do that?” asked one of the tall aliens in his native tongue. “You killed him! Do you have any concept of what you have done?”
The aliens recoiled in fear as the Masters stepped closer.
“We understand the concept of death,” said Garus, reveling in the glory of his voice. It had been so long, as an experiment hundreds of years ago when last he spoke. At the time, it seemed such a waste of effort. Now, it was almost magical since there was a purpose to this form of communication. And that purpose was understanding.
“Who are you? Where is this place?”
The aliens stared back in silence as they slowly moved away.
“Do not flee,” Panof said. “We seek information.”
“Then why did you kill Pontus?” one of the creatures yelled, again displaying copious amounts of raw, primal emotion. That, too, was refreshing to Garus.
“To learn your language; all languages,” he answered. “There is an enormous variety. Are these from different species?”
“Yes, they are. Who are you? Where did you come from?”
“Understanding is still being processed,” said Docem. He looked around the cluttered room. “We are aboard a vessel of some kind.” It was a statement, not a question.
“You were reassembled from a quantum beam if that helps with your understanding,” the alien continued. “Did you come from Woken?”
“We know not of Woken,” Docem said, “but we understand the quantum beam.”
Garus looked to the others. He spoke to them telepathically, sensing that it would be a more private communication, even though the Aris language was not included in the alien database. Nunki placed us in a quantum portal; that much we know. Whether the transfer was complete is unknown, but we cannot deny that a transfer of some kind has taken place. However, this does not have the feel of a quantum reality; there is too much finality, too many objects that appear familiar.
The creature said we emerged from a quantum beam, Panof pointed out. Could it have been the original beam created by Nunki?
I do not believe so, Garus said. My most recent recollections say this new beam was different, more diffused, less focused. It could have been a simple carrier beam, and somehow we got caught within.
Caught from within the quantum universe? Docem asked. That is logical since I have a myriad of new memory fragments I did not have before.
It is the same for me, Garus confirmed. There was a passage of time where events took place. At the moment, we cannot remember them clearly. Perhaps in time, we will. For now, we must assume we did pass into a quantum reality, and now we have emerged from it. If so, was it planned for us to reappear, or was it a mistake on Nunki’s part?
Nunki does not make mistakes, said Docem. We were placed in the field for a purpose, and that purpose was permanent imprisonment. As such, we should not believe anything we see and hear as first presented. All of this could still be part of the universe in which we were transferred. Or it could be part of a plan by Nunki, for what reason, I do not know. However, let us summarize what we do know. I will begin. As first evidence, the alien stated we reassembled from a quantum beam. I believe this was not Nunki’s intention and that we should never have reassembled. As further evidence: Time for us has not passed. Although we carry phantom memories, there has been no sensation of the passage of time. It is as it was only seconds ago on Voskin’or. But we must accept that we are no longer there. Indeed, we may be in another universe—if not quantum then traditional, or perhaps even at another time in our own. Regardless, we cannot dismiss the possibility that Nunki is attempting to warp our minds and perspective with a false narrative. He looked away at the two frightened aliens. We need to determine whether these beings are real and if they are affiliated with the Aris. If this is still part of Nunki’s plan, then are they to be our jailers?
They die too easily to be jailers, Garus said. Then he looked to the aliens.
“Understanding is coming,” he said aloud in the native language of the creatures. “We know now from where we came. Where are the Aris? Are you with them?”
“The Aris?” one of the aliens stammered. The question caught him off guard. “There are no Aris, no longer. You know of the Aris?”
“No more Aris?” Garus was shocked; however, Docem’s warning was foremost in his thoughts. This could be a ruse. “Where are they?” he asked. “What happened to them?”
“They died off—at least most of them—three billion years ago. A few survived in hibernation pods, but even they are now gone.”
Garus stepped forward, unable to contain his shock. Can we believe what we just heard? he asked the others.
Time is variable in the quantum realm, thought Panof. It is possible—however, three billion years. Even the Masters
were astounded by the statement.
That was the projected time for the Grand Experiment, Docem pointed out. It is possible Nunki conducted his experiment and failed at creating a natural immortal, leading to his demise. Even so, these creatures could be the result of Nunki’s seeding program.
Garus refocused his attention on the black-skinned aliens. “You say three billion years have passed since the time of the Aris. How do you know?”
“There have been artifacts found and ancient bases located.”
“And the Aris homeworld?”
“Gone; however, our homeworld is the closest to where the Aris world once existed. We are called Gracilians. We believe ourselves to be the true children of the Aris.”
Garus found humor in the alien’s remark. If indeed three billion years have passed, these creatures could be the product of Nunki’s experimentation; with the Formation, he did have the means to implement his vision. But these creatures are not of the Aris, not directly. That distinction is reserved for the Luz.
“You? No, you are not the children of the Aris.
A thought then came to Garus, one that caused his system to spike with excitement. Could it be? Could it still exist?
“Now I ask,” he said pointedly to the alien, “where is the Formation?”
The alien expressed shock, not confusion.
That is revealing, thought Panof. He is familiar with the device. After all this time. How can that be?
“How do you know of the Formation?” the alien asked nervously, confirming his knowledge of the device. “Very few are aware of its existence.”
“That matters not,” Garus barked. “You say the Aris are gone, as is their homeworld. Yet you speak of the Formation as if you have seen it.”
“I … we have.”
“Where is it?” Garus’s heart leaped. Could it be that the Formation still exists? Of course, it was possible; after all, the device originated in the First Epoch and survived to the Second. Why would it not survive to the Third?
“The last we saw it was at the ancient Aris base. I would now assume the mutants have it. They have most all Aris artifacts.”
“What mutants?”
“They are called Panur and Lila, and they reside on the planet Navarus.”
“That is where the Formation will be found?”
Garus could feel the excited thoughts of his companions. Could it be that the Formation still exists, and the Aris do not? Could it be possible for the Masters to recover the device and conduct their experiments without interference from the Aris? If so, then fortunes had changed in a heartbeat, a heartbeat lasting three billion years.
“If it is anywhere, that is where it is,” the alien answered. “All Aris artifacts are sent there.”
“You will take us there.”
“To Navarus? That will not be possible. We are not welcome.”
“You will take us there,” Garus ordered for a second time. He would not be deterred.
They are resisting, Docem thought. Notice the equipment behind them. There would be star charts and navigation assistance within.
Garus looked past the aliens at the control console and lit displays. Data was streaming, and it looked …
The panels have a familiarity to them, he thought to the others.
Yes, Docem agreed. The readings resemble teleportation and anchor modulations. These beings must be affiliated with the Aris. They have spoken lies.
The passage of time could have given them this knowledge, Panof countered. And be grateful that they have discovered quantum beams. If not, we could still be confined to the nothingness of our quantum prison.
The trio slid past the terrified aliens to survey the control consoles.
We are confirmed, said Docem. Primitive technology, yet functional. This must be the equipment that freed us. Even so, one would think that after three billion years, these creatures would be more advanced.
He worked the controls until he had the operational procedures memorized. Data streamed on the screen, which took longer to decipher since it was written, not spoken. But soon, patterns were recognized, and the written language became understandable to the Masters.
“This is a teleportation station,” Docem said aloud for confirmation. “Extremely crude, yet functional.”
“The question as to function is still open,” an alien replied, seemingly disappointed. “We have not been able to attain focus.”
“That is the fault of the operator, not the equipment—”
Without warning, a loud, repeating sound filled the chamber, startling the aliens. The shorter of the creatures stepped to the control console behind Docem.
“Pardon, that is a proximity alarm. Vessels are approaching. I need to get to the screens.”
Docem and the others stepped aside. They understood the concept of intrusion, and not knowing the environment in which they now existed, there would be dangers they had yet to discern.
The alien silenced the annoying sound and set to work at the controls.
“How did they find us, and so soon?” one asked the other.
“Your vessel is sending out a repeating signal,” Docem told them. He detected the signal as he surveyed the readings.
“A homing beacon? Who would have planted such a device?”
“The Human must have done it. What do we do now?”
“We must surrender.”
They cannot surrender, Panof said.
Of course, they cannot, Garus concurred. Not until we recover the Formation.
“You will take us to Navarus,” the First Master repeated.
“We cannot, even if we wanted to. These are police vessels representing legal authority. Do you understand?”
“Yes, we do.”
“We are outlaws. They are here to arrest us.”
“You cannot let them do that,” Garus stated.
“We have no choice. We have no weapons strong enough to defeat the Enforcer warships.”
Garus looked at the control console. “You have a quantum beam generator.”
The creature seemed not to understand the statement. “How will that help? It is a guidance beam for the teleportation field.”
“Is that all for which you use quantum field beams?” Docem asked. “They are weapons. They were designed as weapons.”
“How, how do we use them?” the creature asked.
The other alien stepped forward and grasped the shoulder of his companion. “Even if the beam can be used as a weapon, do we dare fire on Enforcers? Our crimes to this point are minor. Let us not make them worse.”
Docem had heard enough. He shoved the aliens aside and sat at the panel. He brought the intruder vessels up on a screen and worked the targeting controls
Large sections of the hulls began to be ripped away by the quantum anchor's interaction and the motion of the source signal. He moved the beam across the hulls in large swaths, but only for brief moments. Already, catastrophic pressure explosions were erupting from within the spaceships, moments before chemical propellant ignited. Brief flashes of light blinded the screen before it recovered, now showing a rapidly thinning debris field against the black of space.
Next, Docem isolated the rogue repeating signal and disabled it.
He looked up at the two shocked aliens. “The tracking device has been disabled. Now, you will take us to the planet Navarus.”
This time, neither alien protested.
CHAPTER 1
THE PLANET NAVARUS had been Adam Cain’s home for the past nine years. But this time, as he returned, he felt a strange sense of foreboding, like he’d never seen it for what it truly was—the center of evil for this part of the galaxy.
He knew he couldn’t blame a ball of rock in space for what happened here four days ago. But it seemed that so many crappy things had happened since he arrived that he felt the planet was jinxed. And with it, so was he.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Navarus was to be his retirement home, a quiet, out-of-th
e-way world with a temperate climate, a beautiful crescent-shaped bay and alien palm trees swaying in the breeze.
Now, as he made the short walk from the transport vehicle to Lila and Panur’s laboratory, he had a sinking feeling that it didn’t matter where he went in this god-forsaken galaxy. The whole place was a cesspool. Maybe peace and quiet just weren’t in the cards for Adam Cain. No wonder people accused him of having a bad attitude. But it was justified.
Adam led a small entourage, including Riyad, Monty Pitts, Mike Hannon and the Juirean, Tidus Fe Nolan; Sherri had just pulled up in a transport of her own, coordinating her arrival with that of the team’s at the Enforcer Spaceport.
The jovial mood they all shared after the affair with the Expansion Banks and the Dark Matter Collectors was now a thing of the past, replaced by a morose dread. No sooner had one crisis been overcome that a new one showed up on their doorstep. It wasn’t fair. They didn’t even have time to catch their breath.
Summer Rains met them in the research facility's main room, where only days before the team had watched on a video monitor in stunned disbelief as Lila and Panur were teleported away. Although it was Summer’s five-foot-two-inch frame that met them, it was the confident, almost otherworldly voice of the immortal entity J’nae who spoke to them through her.
“We have received no word from the Luz,” J’nae stated without greeting. There had been near-constant communications with the team since the teleportation event. Since then, J’nae had been scouring the mutants’ data files looking for clues to what happened, paying particular attention to anything she could learn of the mysterious Luz. “They came first for the Formation, and when that failed, they took Panur and Lila.”
“But it was the Formation that they really wanted,” Adam concluded.
“This is correct. Therefore, we should expect a ransom demand, the Formation in exchange for Panur and Lila.”
“If that is the case,” Tidus asked, “what will be your answer?” Being a Juirean, Tidus didn’t feel the same compassion as did Humans … for anything.