by Reiter
“Smitty mentioned it more than once,” Dungias added with a smile. “The agent that had caused the rapid decay had been worked into their genetic code, like a self-destruct switch. Apparently if the freighter could not reach its destination, the cargo was meant to be lost along with the ship.”
“Cargo?!”
“Yes, Borsidia,” Dungias confirmed. “Jocasta and her siblings are clones. They were manufactured and packaged for delivery. I believe the issue regarding the casters was unrelated, but it impacted the fate of the clones nevertheless.
“Still, the level of genetic manipulation was unlike anything I had ever seen, and even Smitty was challenged by it,” Dungias continued, walking to stand over the sleeping Jocasta. “I had managed to remove four rows from the main pod housing. The first row had one unit, the second row held two pods and so forth.”
“So you managed to save ten?” Borsidia inquired.
“Initially, yes,” Dungias replied, pressing his lips together. He looked at his friend and maintained his composure after the sharp sting of the memory. “There were all sorts of countermeasures to the unauthorized removal of the bodies from holding units. I could have mastered the necessary circuits, but there was an underlying time factor involved as well.”
“Incredibly thorough!” Borsidia remarked.
“Yes, a very thorough killer indeed. Not the sort of mind I look forward to ever meeting.” Borsidia looked up questioningly and Dungias returned his eyes to Jocasta. “To be that thorough is the mark and measure of tremendous experience and uncanny resourcefulness. It is not the sort of thing one can simply create without having seen much of the worlds. That, and the fact this person has a very cold regard for life that is not their own. To possess such a perspective–”
“And still be alive, with the ability to create such things,” Borsidia quickly added. “Yes, I agree, it makes for a rather disconcerting combination.”
“It does indeed, my friend.” Dungias needed to take his mind away from the matter of Jocasta’s creator. While there was fear in the thought of meeting the individual, there was also a strong inquisitive component accompanied by unspeakable rage. None of the children were what they were intended to be: mindless fighting robots. They had all become so much more!
“Smitty did what he could, which was considerable,” Dungias continued. “… but the first of each row had remained in the removed units too long, and began suffering a breakdown on the molecular level. Only the first in the row of four managed to survive the degradation process.
“Leaving you with… seven. Why did you keep this one?”
“They all had an effect on me, Borsidia. Once Smitty and I thought they were no longer degenerating, I saw to their training. That is when Smitty found that while their brains were exceptional, the means by which the tangible brain creates the intangible mind had been delicately manipulated.”
“In what way?”
“They were designed to be subservient!” Dungias explained. “No ability to express self or interpret will save to satisfy their master, whoever that might be. But they were also designed to be athletic, aggressive and highly flexible.”
“Warriors?” she asked.
“Soldiers,” Dungias replied. “The kind that would never question orders, and once trained, they would redefine the superlative echelon. Stronger, faster, with unbelievable hand-eye coordination and an endurance capacity that I found to be disturbing.”
“So someone was making an army.”
“Someone bought an army, Borsidia,” Dungias shot back, walking away from her. “In hindsight, I wish I had thought to access the computer aboard the ship and at least find its origin and destination.”
“How clear the vision is in review of matters we have already experienced, Traveler,” she consoled. “If it means anything to you, I have always thought of your ability to see the path ahead as invigorating.”
“Coming from you, milady, that means a great deal.”
“So, this is why you made so many visits to Smitty,” Borsidia concluded. “You were trying to rework their given disposition.”
“We were successful and I gained a greater respect for the biological sciences.”
“How great a respect?” Borsidia asked and the tone of her voice brought Dungias from his personal reflections. “I’m sorry, Dungias, but yours is the sort of mind that can make a state-of-matter transmuter out of eating utensils!” The Malgovi Traveler clutched at his ribs with both hands as he belted out a hearty laugh. He was into his second blast when he stopped, considering the properties of a device that very well could change the state-of-matter on a given element or composition. “Ugh!” Borsidia grunted as she put one of her hands to her head. “What have I done?”
“Nothing yet, milady, but I will tell you once I have taken the notion further.
“To answer your inquiry, my respect was elevated to the point where I was fully engaged with the process, serving as Smitty’s assistant on several procedures.”
“You worked with Smitty?!” Borsidia asked, discovering yet another fact about her guest which she would keep from her master and mentor. Smitty had to be the most belligerent genius she had ever met. It was his genius that made his attitude tolerable, though only for brief visits and reports. He had never let anyone get close to him, and here Dungias had actually been allowed into the sacred laboratories. He had even worked with the Meacruhn technician. “Fascinating!”
“It was difficult work, as not all survived the maturation process, but I cannot say I am dissatisfied with the outcome. And you are right, we found a way to alter the imposed inhibitions of the mind. Now their superior brains are resistant to suggestion and ThoughtWill probes.
“In fact,” Dungias sighed, “you could say that their minds are too uninhibited.”
“So the father is having troubles with his children,” Borsidia concluded, smiling at the fact.
“They are not children, and I am hardly their father,” he argued.
“Of course,” she smiled. “As you say then. Does she have any memory of her creation?” Borsidia asked, looking back at the sleeping woman. The lack of a response made her turn back to Dungias whose eyes were cast to the floor. “Dungias, no! You haven’t told her?!”
“Have a care, Borsidia,” Dungias started.
“You make that level of decision for her and then claim not to be a parent?!”
“The Human culture is not like yours or mine… well, actually it is a great deal like mine. Clones are regarded as being less than human. In many ways they are the human equivalent to shay-spawn.”
“So what have you been doing all this time with her?
“Allowing her to build her own past,” Dungias replied, recalling the events of years past. He had intentionally not told Borsidia that the type of soldier the clones were meant to be had also been pre-determined. Jocasta and her sister were meant to be pilots, and perhaps the most skilled pilots Dungias had ever seen. Even without the two of them being formally trained, Dungias had only maintained a sixty-seven percent victory ratio in the simulator. The number dropped whenever real space and aircraft were involved. “Her first clear memory is at the seat of a plane called the Mockingbird. She was under attack from three other airships. The Mockingbird plane had been stolen… by her… but as far as she has ever known, the plane was hers.”
“I cannot say I approve, Dungias,” Borsidia remarked.
“You are not the only one” he replied. “I did what I could to maintain something of a supervisory capacity over the others. It quickly grew to a situation where I had to make a choice of who I would observe. Of the three, I chose Jocasta.”
“Why just her?”
“Because in a way, she had chosen me,” Dungias answered, making a conscious decision to not inform Borsidia about Jocasta’s sister, Persephone Alyssa Endigun, let alone the five brothers that had not perished as he had implied. It was a little known fact that Smitty’s first name was Endigun. Dungias had already decide
d to keep that to himself as well.
“Then, in all this time…”
“I have been monitoring her progress… her activity… her thoughts, when they were clear enough to read. And, in return for all I have taken from her, I wove myself into this scheme. She believes she saved my life, risking her own in the event.
“Thank you, my Queen,” Dungias thought. “You were quite right: no one needs to know everything! For in so many ways, Jocasta has saved me.
“For her efforts, I made a Life Pact with her.”
“A life pact?”
“She believes it is part of the Malgovi culture.”
“You mean to say that is another lie,” Borsidia asserted.
“Forgive me, Madam Chancellor, but please take note I am Malgovi,” Dungias asserted. “If I choose to implement something into that culture, I would think that is more of my station and nothing of yours. I understand your misgivings, Borsidia, but I would argue that you react from the perspective of the unengaged. There were ten lives that were considered to be nothing more than mere property and easily expendable. Three survived, and now they possess at least some modicum of life. I need not your approval or even your understanding; have a care of how far you voice your judgment.”
There was silence in the room as neither knew what to say or where to put their eyes. Dungias took in a deep breath and shook his head. “This is a nut-cruncher!” he whispered.
“I’m sorry,” Borsidia questioned, shocked at the wording.
“One of Jocasta’s sayings,” Dungias explained. “It refers to the sensitivity of–”
“My knowledge of humans is not without some experience, my friend,” Borsidia interrupted.
“So… are we still friends, milady?”
“We are at least that, Dungias,” she smiled. “I often take a position as your superior, but I have no means to substantiate such a claim.”
“You preside over an entire sector of the Astral Realm!”
“And if you had wanted, you would be the beloved king of your people!” Borsidia returned. “And a well-earned merit it would have been. Now you are about the business of trying to save humanity from itself. What better way than to attach yourself to a shining example of the possibilities of their beauty and wondrous potential. She is quite beautiful, Dungias.”
“You are catching her at one of her down moments,” he remarked, chuckling for a moment.
“I am quite sure. And speaking of moments,” Borsidia suddenly recalled, “I have something for you. I will teleport it aboard your ship before you leave. It is a keepsake from Smitty. He wanted you to have it, and since he resided in my sector, I had the opportunity to discover his body and his last wishes.”
“You destroyed the lab.”
Borsidia closed her eyes. Dungias had indeed come to work and know Smitty. “I did,” she replied. “Save for the item he left for you to take.”
“Then I shall take it.
“It will be a puzzle of some sort,” Dungias considered. “Once solved, it will yield something he thought I would need. I came here to show Satithe to Borsidia, and Jocasta to Smitty. If he decided to take his leave, perhaps he had seen all of her that he needed to see. Now I must see to this keepsake, and receive the last instructions from a good friend and mentor.
“When I return to my own dimension, I must consider never again coming to the InterVoid. My conflict with Nes is only growing, and it would seem there is more than his paranoia to contend with. If I am wrong, so be, but in order to see to this quest, I must trust in the First Star and… let go!”
A man’s true secrets are more secret to himself than they are to others.
Paul Valery
(II)
“It is time, my Mistress,” Hanvashi said softly, “time for you to awaken and take your place as our goddess!” Her eyes opened and she breathed in, smelling sweet air and the scent of the flowers of the chamber. “Greetings, Mistress!” Hanvashi bowed as he stepped back from her. “… and welcome to a new beginning!” The wall behind Hanvashi began to move, revealing that it was not a wall at all, but a set of sliding doors. As they moved, all she could see was glass and another set of doors.
“Where am I, Hanvashi?” she asked, knowing she was not in the same chamber where she had laid down to rest.
“To quote an Old Earth phrase, you’re in the best seat of the house!” The doors outside of the glass opened and Xaythra could see stars. She sat up, and then quickly stood up, walking toward the large window. She could see the debris, the planetoids, and various gasses. It was all that remained of what she had once called home; now it was an asteroid field, but what it surrounded was what drew her attention.
Technically speaking, it was a gas giant, the planet upon which she gazed. Comprised of mostly rusts and browns, there were yellow streaks and black spots all over the visual surface. She knew the spots were storms, and she could feel them stirring the gases of the world… but that was not all she could feel.
“It needs your touch, Mistress,” Hanvashi stated. “It will hold this form for only a few hours more and then it will disperse once more, returning to the asteroid field.”
“How did you manage this?!” Xaythra breathed as she turned away from the glass.
“Did you not ask me to create a haven for your followers?” Hanvashi quickly asked as he bowed his head.
“I did, and the result was beautiful; but that place was destroyed… destroyed by my power, torn apart by the energies I wield.”
“There is something of note about energy,” Gregoran said as he came away from the wall just next to the door of the observation room. He bowed and was pleased to receive a smile and nod from Xaythra. “It never dies, my Goddess. It can change direction, change form, even change purpose… but it always remains. The same power that destroyed Tau Upsilon was used to create Renatus!”
Xaythra turned back to the view. It had been a long time since she felt true happiness, and she almost did not know what to do. The last occasion of bliss had been quickly followed by imprisonment, torture and scientific studying; but that had been years ago, and this was a new day.
“A gas giant and nine moons,” she stated. “I did not know we possessed such technology.” With that, Hanvashi thought it best to deliver a reminder to his goddess.
“In truth, we still do not, my Mistress. This came to us by way of a party who prefers to keep their anonymity, and in actuality, there are ten moons. But what you see is not yet fixed, and as I stated, without your power it will fade.”
“Then it shall have my power!” Xaythra declared, stepping through the glass. She could feel the awe of Hanvashi and the gentle smile of her High Priest. He was not as moved to see such feats; his faith had already told him of her greatness. If anything, each act of incredible power only served to confirm his beliefs.
“Perhaps I failed to see what a resource Gregoran truly is,” she thought. “Perhaps I am every bit of the fledgling goddess Austin declared me to be… but what of it? I am still here, Legerian. I still draw essence… I still feed on KaA. Witness the power of this fledgling!” In a flash of light, she transformed herself from her hominoid shell to an expression of cosmic power and authority; crystal blue waters swirling around a miniaturized singularity. The waters mixed with the black hole and became a photon of black light. It shot from its place at the rear of the ship and streaked toward the gas giant.
“Hear me, my most loyal followers,” she projected as black light formed around the bodies of both men. “As the heart of Renatus receives my power, so shall you! Let them forever be tied to one another as we create another triangle within the Rims!
“Go, chosen sons,” her voice echoed throughout the ship as Hanvashi and Gregoran started to float above the ground, her power slowly working its way through their bodies. “Go and send forth the word, demonstrate our power, and bring unto me a new flock… a new family… a new stride of life. Return to me in a year’s time and I shall show those who dare to attend what it i
s to love a goddess! Go… go… go….”
Gregoran fell to his knees weeping as Hanvashi landed gently on his feet, his eyes closed as he tried to contain the euphoria of her touch. He looked at his hands and concentrated slightly, causing a blue-black light to form around his hands. He had considered himself powerful before this offering, but Baron Zoll now knew he had wrought well in the name of his goddess.
“Helm!” he shouted and like Xaythra’s voice, his carried throughout the ship without need of an electronic device. “Set a course for the Phalmeen System and make sure it is clear of any obstructions. Notify me once you have it!”
“The Terran Triangle?” Gregoran guessed, and Hanvashi smiled at the Priest.
“Eventually, yes. And while talking to the people is normally the task of a Priest, I have another endeavor in mind for you, my friend.”
“You are Xaythra’s chosen son,” Gregoran said as he stood up, feeling younger and a great deal stronger. “Your word is law to me!”
“Then embrace this law. When it is just you and I, speak to me plainly, truthfully. We have endured much. Your loyalty can never be called into question in my mind, and I do not want you to waste time and effort trying to find the right words so that I do not question your station or purpose. There is too much to be done. We’ve already learned the costly lesson of placing our attention on the wrong front.” Hanvashi walked over to the pod that had been used to hold Xaythra’s sleeping form. He could still feel her essence on the sheets.
“You will note that in the things we are to accomplish, our goddess did not mention Freund,” Hanvashi stated.
“We will then trust in her wisdom and take to the tasks she has given us,” Gregoran replied.
“If I am to assemble her people, we will need an army. Great is our power, but neither one of us is a soldier, nor do we care to try when it would be simpler to recruit from well-established stock.”