Through the Singularity

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Through the Singularity Page 42

by L. Frank Wadsworth


  They grow silent as the waverider skims the ocean's waves, heading to Zaleria's favored location. A large island that protects a natural harbor on one of the larger land masses. The lee of the island faces the harbor to its west and is fairly low and flat, with many natural anchorages and beaches. From the harbor, the island slopes upward, gently at first toward the windward side facing the east and the sea, before rising abruptly to a high ridge that falls as sheer cliffs into the ocean.

  It is beautiful, bursting with possibilities that Achi can see through his link with Zaleria. The waverider sets down in the middle of the island, where they all get out. Clive stands there looking around, not having been able to see it until now.

  “Well, this is promising,” he says. “Where do you plan to put the house?”

  “All of this will become my home,” Zaleria says. “But I have to start somewhere, and I would like your opinion on that.”

  “Why me?” he asks.

  “You are family. I wish I could make you as Achi and I are, but I lack the authority to do such a thing. Perhaps someday I can win that argument, who knows, but I am determined to give you at least this much. This, I can control.”

  “I'm just a human,” Clive insists.

  Zaleria shakes her head. “We all are. I see that now. I think some of the others do as well. Our choices are what make us more than human, and in that regard, I think you qualify. Beltare and Jevelle are, at this moment, seeking out a galan that has become less than human. This is not the first time a galan has fallen, because they grow evil.”

  Clive looks around, taking in the island as best he can. His eye is drawn by the pronounced ridge on the eastern side of the island. “I've always been attracted to high ground. If you start there, you can see your garden in its full glory on this side, and if you punch through or go over those hills, you can greet the sun each morning as it rises over the ocean. You'll also get a great view, whether the ocean is placid and calm, or if it is raging.”

  She thinks on this a moment and begins to really warm to the idea. Clive has, in just a few moments of thought, expertly captured the spirit of this place. “I like your vision,” she confesses. “Your concept makes excellent use of the natural features. I don't think I could improve upon it even if I was so inclined to try.”

  Clive flushes a bit at the compliment. “Do you see where those two clefts come down on either side of the highest point? Just above the point where they come closest to each other, there is a small flat spot. What do you think of that location?”

  “I think it is worth a closer look. Shall we?” she gestures at the waverider, bidding them to board. Soon, they are standing on a broad col on the rear flank of the highest point of the ridge. It is a large, slightly bowl-shaped area between two massive shoulders and affords an expansive view of most of the island. Zaleria slowly turns around, thinking of the possibilities, before smiling at Clive. “You have made an excellent choice. I shall plant my essence here.”

  Clive beams. “I hope you fill this space with happiness and joy, and perhaps in the not too distant future, you will entertain your human cousins here as friends and equals.”

  She can think of no better outcome. “Mother, Clive, I must ask you to return to the shuttle for now. I will rejoin you in a little while. Achi, please remain.” The others move off as she bids Achi to stand beside her, so they can focus on shaping a clear vision of what they want to achieve. I will need as many symbiots as I can spare, and you are flush with them. Feel free to share any ideas you may have to add to the design. They meld, sharing thoughts jointly, without a buffer, envisioning how their home will evolve, thinking, vetting, and developing the plan. Achi adds a pier and boathouse in a particularly well-suited harbor to shelter some primitive sailing vessels, and Zaleria plans a grand balcony to watch over the eastern ocean, a place to greet the dawn. Finally, Zaleria instructs her symbiots to begin.

  She gently pulls the knife out of Achi's belt, while he holds up his hand. She slices open his left palm and he slices open her right. They place their injured hands together, opening an easy pathway for their symbiots to join together to form 'seeds,' visible clusters of symbiots that fall to the ground and burrow in. They will replicate innumerable times and then create the specialty nanomachines necessary to begin bringing about their joint vision. At the same time, they will create a permanent repository of all their combined knowledge, memories, and experiences—the very echo of their souls. They stand there, hand on hand, gazing into each other’s eyes, thoughts and memories conjoined.

  For better or worse, what is done, is done. Zaleria shares with him. I cannot preserve my essence without also preserving yours.

  And all that you are, I am, and all that I was, you must now bear. It is bittersweet. Achi shares.

  We are as one—human, galan, who knows, and who cares. We owe no one any answers. I know all that you are, and you are my friend, and this will be our home for as long as we wish it to be so. she concludes.

  Home. One that will never fade or be lost, like every home he has before now known; like every relationship. No matter where they go in the universe, this place they will always be able to return to and be reborn from.

  “I've instructed my symbiots to make you as I am,” Zaleria shares with him. “You are now part of us. I dare any to judge what I have done. You are fully galan now, but that is not all you are.”

  Achi feels the heat of her raw emotions as she shares these feelings. She grew attracted to him on Juruele and has now recaptured all her memories of the time they spent together on Earth. She loves him. As a friend, and companion, and perhaps more. It is enough for her to risk the ire of her people to ensure his life is preserved, as any other galan's life is. She is also taking a very large and impulsive leap of faith, based in large part on her memory of what the Being of Light told them. But also based on her intimate knowledge of him and his evolution into who he is today.

  Zaleria feels his love for her, a powerful longing rooted in the deepest part of his soul. He has been paired numerous times before, but his feelings have never been this powerful, as he contemplates not just a human lifetime, but a galan lifetime bonded with her. As much time as either would like to share, until they tire of the universe and make their way to what waits beyond; the next step of how many, they don't know. One they will take together when it is time. Together. Two beings as one, as the Creator intended from the beginning.

  As the Creator intended. [You will remember this. Cherish your bond.] It seems they will have little choice.

  Clive in the waverider is trying to figure it all out. He looks over at Traemuña. “Has my father bonded with my sister?”

  “It certainly seems that way,” she replies.

  “It really doesn't seem right, you know? The family tree should be a bit, bushier, don't you think?”

  Traemuña laughs. “You are a real jewel, Clive Robinson. Don't you think they make a nice couple?”

  He laughs. “They do, no matter how awkward they will make family gatherings. So I guess that makes you my granny-stepmother?”

  She laughs again. “Just enjoy the Creator's sense of humor. Sometimes, it's all we have. Have some faith that it'll all sort itself out as it should.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Doleo and Deliciae

  It's been a month since the attack on Juruele, and Beltare and Jevelle are no closer to finding evidence they can use to expose an accomplice than they were immediately after the attack. They share their results with the group; it is inconclusive.

  Achi looks it over. There are over a 153 galanen on Luna base besides Beltare and Jevelle. He states the obvious, “One of these must be the traitor. Given it must be one, who would you suspect.” There is one.

  “But we have no evidence,” Jevelle states.

  “Then I must go there and listen,” He shares.

  They agree. It makes sense and holds the greatest promise. Th
ey discuss how to best implement the plan.

  Two weeks later, Nils Hagen finds himself confined to a room on Luna base. He is disheveled, dressed in bedraggled clothes, with bruises, cuts, and abrasions, a testament to the violence needed to subdue him for capture. He sits in a locked room under constant guard and surveillance. “Let me out. Who are you? You have no right to hold me!” he screams at his captors.

  Beltare, Jevelle, and Trègar come to visit him. Trègar drags him out. “Time for questioning, human. Stop struggling, or I'll have to restrain you!” Nils breaks free from his grip and tries to escape down the hallway, forcing Trègar to stun him with a single schoop from his pistol. Nils falls to the floor, and Trègar holsters his pistol, picks him up, and drags him back to his cell. They leave him there to regain consciousness. When he awakens, Nils walks around his cell trying all the doors, but none will open for him. He senses a guard outside and tries a desperate gambit. “Hello? Help me. They have no right to hold me here.”

  The guard responds, “Why should I, human? You've been causing a lot of trouble on Earth.”

  “No, I haven't! I've not been doing anything; you've got to believe me. I just run a technology company. We're making innovative devices for humanity. How does that make me an enemy?”

  No answer.

  Nils sits there with his head against the wall, trying to engage the guard in small talk. She doesn't respond, silently amused at his predicament. After about half an hour, Jevelle, Beltare, and Trègar come for the prisoner. They drag him out of his cell, and he shifts his gaze upon the guard for the first time, locking eyes. “This is the one,” he says.

  They all freeze.

  The guard stands there for a moment, before bolting. She sprints about ten steps, schoop, before collapsing in a heap. Trègar and Beltare stand there dumbfounded, while Jevelle lowers her pistol and slowly walks over and rolls her face up. It's Stelarosa, Trègar's former mate.

  Achi walks over. “There lies your traitor. I've been in her head, and I know much of what has transpired.”

  Trègar looks shocked. “It can't be—I, I would have known. I should have known, but I had no idea. Why would she do such a thing?” He turns gray, all his blood leaving his face as shock sets in, shaking his head repeatedly as if to deny what his eyes plainly see.

  “It's complicated. Did you know you held some of her symbiots within you?” Achi asks?

  “What? No! How would she do that? Why?”

  “Well, I think it was because she wanted to feel closer to you, especially when you were intimate. And for a while, that made you both happy. But she wasn't prepared to deal with the potential consequences. No man, er, galan will always have pure thoughts. And apparently your mind wandered from Stelarosa when you met Beltare. She felt this and grew immensely jealous. Her jealousy is what destroyed your bond and formed the seed of her betrayal.”

  Beltare blanches. “I had no idea.”

  “Neither of you did. How could you? She never mentioned it, never made you aware that she'd inoculated you with her symbiots. She just stewed and plotted revenge. At some point, she came into contact with the shell of Gravis, I think remotely—it probably targeted her, as it was able to spy on everyone on Luna. While she probably thought it was her idea to use the shell to advance her revenge, she was clearly the one used. I think sometimes she regretted what that lead to, but not enough for her to confess her transgressions and help shut this thing down. She was happy to let humanity fall if that would damage Beltare—ruin her reputation. I'm very sorry.”

  Achi is truly sympathetic to their plight. Jealousy is such a devastating emotion, and Stelarosa couldn't escape it. Ultimately, she was consumed by it. Tragic, in the highest sense of classical Greek tragedy. But the impact her pettiness has had on humanity may never be reversed.

  Trègar stands looking at her, horrified. “I loved her and never understood why she grew distant. I never rejected her; she rejected me, and I never knew why.”

  “She'd put her symbiots into you so she could feel what you felt. How could you have known? Perhaps she did so because she lacked confidence and wanted to spy on you or because she wanted to control or manipulate you. I don't know. But when she felt your feelings toward Beltare, no matter how innocent, she grew jealous.”

  Trègar stares at Stelarosa for a while, before closing his eyes. “I would like to retire to my quarters, if you don't mind. I don't know how to deal with this…”

  Achi reaches out and grasps his shoulder. “You, did, nothing, wrong. You must accept this. I'm sorry, but this is not about you. Don't accept guilt you haven't earned.” Trègar nods his head, but Achi isn't convinced Trègar has internalized what he has said.

  Beltare stands there looking at Stelarosa, the color also drained from her face, trembling with a mixture of emotions, not knowing what to think. “I never led him on; nor did I do anything to encourage him while they were a bonded pair. It was only a thousand years after they parted that I let him know of my interest.” Beltare looks terrible. Hurt, anger, disgust, and guilt all vie for expression on her face.

  Achi sighs. “Beltare, the same goes for you. You have nothing to feel guilty about, and that is the truth.”

  Her emotions balanced precariously on a knife edge, his comment pushes her into anger. “Don't tell me what to do!” she lashes out.

  Achi gets in her face. “Beltare, you may have some imperfections, but conspiring to cuckold another woman isn't one of them. Don't be stupid.” She looks like she is going to strike him but starts to tear up instead and grasps on to him. He holds her, shocked at her sudden vulnerability, and tries to comfort her while tears run silently down her face. He can feel her anguish, both for herself and for Trègar. “I'm sorry; I know this hurts. You are surrounded by friends; you are not alone. Be strong, because Trègar needs you.”

  She pulls back and looks at him. “You knew, didn't you? You tried to warn me, because somehow, you knew.”

  “I suspected. I hoped I was wrong.”

  Beltare looks at him for a long moment, nods, then excuses herself to find Trègar. Jevelle looks at him, marveling. “How do you do that? I would have thought she disliked you, up until about two minutes ago.”

  “I've been married 172 times; I understand women. Human or galan doesn't make any difference; they've all got buttons. Some bring pleasure, while others bring pain, and some, well, pressing some buttons lets loose a fury that hell itself can't contain.”

  She shakes her head. “You are more dangerous than you know. I may have to put you back in the cell.”

  Stelarosa moans. She'll be coming around in a few more minutes. “Will you help me with her?”

  He picks her up, draping her slight, lithe form over his arms—her head and legs gently swaying as he walks with her, following Jevelle back to the cell he so recently occupied. “What now?” he asks quietly, as they walk.

  “That depends on her,” Jevelle says, “But her crimes are extensive and have gone on for a very long time. Even worse, they violate one of our most sacred duties. I've only seen this a couple times before, but this is much worse.”

  He places her senseless form on the floor of the cell, looking at her face. Her eyes are still open, unfocused. He can't help but notice how beautiful she appears. In truth, much like all other galanen. She is slightly built, with long, flowing raven hair, pale blue eyes, light complexion, and possessing petite, angular features. Though Achi knows better, it is still hard to accept the degree of malevolence such a beautiful countenance could conceal.

  They leave her there as Jevelle, with agreement from the other elders, severs Stelarosa's connection to the collective. She places guards outside of her local range, with orders to let no one meet with or communicate with her—except for the elders.

  ∞∞∞

  Galanen justice is sure, and swift. The collective compels Stelarosa's essence to reveal all that it knows. It is indeed horrifying. Stelarosa set out to ruin Beltare, the only way to really achieve revenge on a
galan, since destroying her unitary would only lead to a brief absence. Ruining her reputation, however, would damage her forever. To accomplish that, humanity would have to fail, and Stelarosa planned to ensure everyone would blame Beltare for it.

  To Achi, it is easy to see how Gravis' shell manipulated her—using her anger and need for revenge to advance its agenda. She was the one who infected Zaleria's waverider with Gravis' symbiots to cause it to malfunction, her unitary only saved by an emergency protocol neither the shell nor Stelarosa had foreseen. However, even Stelarosa didn't know how the shell had kept Zaleria from communicating with the collective, which Achi finds troubling. That mission convinced her to stop helping the shell do what it wanted and only use it for what she wanted. But she was nothing more than a useful idiot. Unknowingly inoculated with the shell's symbiots, she helped spread its presence around Luna base, providing a pathway for information about galanen activities to find their way to the shell. Achi feels this was almost a humorous jab by the shell, doing to her what she'd essentially done to Trègar. Using her as she had used others—an ironic sense of justice? Many failed missions are now chalked up to her malfeasance, both deliberate and incidental, as she did all she could to make Beltare look bad. The destruction of Juruele was the last act of an increasingly desperate galan.

  In the end, when the truth is known, Stelarosa shows little remorse for the pain she has caused and remains defiant, insisting that Beltare is a manipulative galan who destroyed her happiness by stealing her mate's affection; placing the blame on Beltare for all the evil Stelarosa had actually wrought. Hatred is a powerful poison, and Stelarosa had been sipping it for thousands of years, savoring a little each day, ensuring it would last her through the eons.

  The elder-most galanen consult about what to do with her. Traemuña, Jevelle, and Fandtha, having been directly engaged in tracking her down, recuse themselves to avoid any appearance of bias. The others—most of whom Achi has never met—quickly reach consensus; she must be cast out for the good of the collective. The elders order her essence archived, no longer accessible to her or any other galan without permission of at least three elders. This leaves her stuck in her unitary, alone, disconnected, and left to fend for herself. She will be taken to another galaxy, given a waverider, and allowed to journey wherever she will, although without access to D-space, that will limit her to a fraction of a single galaxy. She may reach out at some point in the future and try to convince the collective she is penitent, and seek to atone to regain her union, but the number of those cast out who successfully reintegrate is very small.

 

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