by Isaac Hooke
“Can I at least try?” Tane said.
Jed was quiet a moment. Then he shook his head. “You really think you’re something, don’t you? That you can do anything? But you’re wrong. Sure, you’re somewhat special. You can Siphon from two universes at the same time. But you can’t do everything. You’re not some super-powerful being who instantly has access to the highest levels of every power in the universe. You need training. It’s as simply as that.” He paused, and must have seen the hurt look on Tane’s face, because he added: “I only tell you the truth, Engineer. You’re wasting your time.”
“Even so, I must to try.” Tane glanced at Gia. “How close are we to the planet? H33?”
Muse was the one who replied: “An hour away still.”
“This is pointless,” Jed said. “The planet you choose needs to have an atmosphere, because you’ll have to touch my bare skin near the wound. It could take—”
“H33 has a breathable atmosphere,” Muse interrupted. “If that helps. The planet is colonized. At least in our universe.”
“That saves us the trouble of pitching an environmental tent on the hull,” Tane said.
“You might still have to, if healing needs physical contact,” Since said.
Tane nodded. “I’ll have to take off my glove.”
“Actually, it should still work through your glove,” Jed said. “The healing effects will be muted slightly, but the amount you’ll Siphon through the hull will easily make up for it. However, your glove definitely has to touch my skin directly.”
“All right,” Tane said. “We continue to H33.”
Tane remained in sickbay during the flight to the planet, along with Sinive and Gia. He sat in a chair he’d positioned at the base of the bed, and stared at his hands. He opened and closed them several times.
“I’m starting to realize there’s a cost for my actions. A price for leading you all into danger.” He sighed. “Repel Nanotech. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. No one was supposed to get hurt.”
“But you knew there would be a risk,” Jed said from where he lay. “You had to have known.”
“Yes, of course,” Tane said. “But I thought I could protect you all. I was wrong. I should have gone alone.”
Jed chuckled softly, but then grimaced, and held his side. “Like I said earlier, you can’t do everything. You’re not invincible. And you do realize that none of us would have ever let you go by yourself, right?”
The hour passed and Muse announced: “We’ve reached the planet. I’m bringing the ship in for a landing.”
The thin dark threads reappeared, emerging from Tane’s joints. He could sense both Essences just beyond the periphery of perception.
“Sinive, it’s time,” Tane said.
She nodded warily.
Tane glanced at Jed. The Volur didn’t seem any worse than an hour ago, but according to the latest report from the medical robot, the microcrillia had advanced at least a few millimeters deeper into his system since then.
“I don’t even feel like using the Essencework,” Tane said. “Not now, not after what happened to him. But I have to. Otherwise this was all for nothing.”
“I know,” Sinive said. “So I should go first, I guess. Be the guinea pig?”
“Nope,” Tane said. “The only one who gets to be the guinea pig in this matter is me.”
“I don’t know if you’re being selfish or sweet,” Sinive said.
“Definitely not sweet,” Tane said. “I’m going to have to go with selfish.”
“A-hole.”
“I love it when you call me that,” Tane said. “Means I’m doing something right.”
Tane spent the next two minutes guiding the stellar wind of the Lumina over his bones, and dousing the fires sourced from the planet’s core below, intertwining the White and Dark elements to form the wreath of frozen light and fiery shadow before him. It was visible only to his eyes, a truly magnificent product of the Essence.
He allowed the work to set in this reality around his head, as he had watched Tiberius do. The wreath shrunk, slowly vanishing into his forehead and hair, until it was gone entirely.
Tane felt weak, and he blinked away the stars that suddenly mottled his vision. He grabbed onto his beam hilt and relished in the Endurance boost.
“Is it done?” Sinive asked.
As the stars cleared from his vision, Tane nodded. “Yes. But I don’t feel any different. Well, other than drained.”
“Here, let me scan you,” Jed said weakly.
The Volur sat up with a grimace, and reached into the storage pouch on the stand beside his bed. He retrieved one of his gauntlets and slid it on, and held the armored hand toward Tane. Divergent beams of laser light emerged, forming a flat, triangular plane when viewed from above, and Jed directed that beam up and down over Tane’s face. Tane blinked whenever the laser caught him in the eye.
And then it was over. Jed lowered his hand. “Hate to say this, but it seems the control chip is still in your head. As is your original chip.”
Tane slumped. “Then this was all for nothing after all. Your infection. Our struggle in the Umbra. Gia’s loss of her license. I should have realized the work was outdated. A thousand years have passed. Of course technology has changed since then.”
“Maybe the chip is disabled, even though it’s still present?” Sinive said.
“I don’t think so,” Tane said. “I have memories of the Essencework development, of the experiments Tiberius did. The chip should have dissolved. If it’s still present, that means Repel Nanotech doesn’t affect modern day chips.”
The world blurred.
Tane found himself lying chest-first on the deck. He pushed himself up, helped by Sinive.
“What happened?” Tane said.
“You just collapsed,” Sinive said.
“Weird,” Tane said.
Jed extended a hand. “Come here.”
Tane did so, and the Volur scanned him again.
When Jed dismissed the twin beams of light, he said: “The control chip is gone.”
Tane exhaled in relief. He could have cried for how happy he felt. “So it wasn’t for nothing after all. I’m free. Finally.”
Jed gripped Tane’s gloved hand with his gauntlet. “I never doubted you, Engineer. Well, except maybe a few seconds ago, when the chip was still there. But that doesn’t count.” Jed released him and lay back. “Now I can die a happy man.”
“You’re not going to die,” Tane said.
“I was being sarcastic,” Jed said.
“Yeah, Volur humor, it’s an acquired taste I guess.” Tane turned to Sinive. “You’re next. Stand still.”
He spent the next two minutes preparing another Repel Nanotech work and then applied it to Sinive. He was thoroughly winded by then and had to sit down.
“So I guess it takes a little bit to kick in, right?” Sinive said. “Because I feel nothing.”
And then a moment later she, too, blacked out. Tane rushed to her and helped her to her feet.
“Whoa,” Sinive said. “That was unexpected.”
Jed scanned her with the beam from his gauntlet.
“The control chip has disintegrated inside you as well,” Jed said.
Sinive hugged Tane. Tightly. Well, as much as anyone could hug someone else in a spacesuit. “Thank you.” She seemed to realize that she was smiling brightly at him, and quickly pulled away.
Tane frowned. But he said: “You’re welcome.”
“How are we doing on that landing, Muse?” Gia asked.
“The planet appears uninhabited by dwellers, but I am detecting major kraal concentrations,” the Mosaic’s AI replied. “I passed an empty plain two minutes ago, and I’m doubling back now. It appears to be the best landing site, with the closest kraal population located approximately fifty kilometers away.”
The vessel was on the ground a few minutes later. After confirming that the air was breathable, Tane and Sinive crab-walked Jed through the tight a
irlock and onto the open ramp that led outside the ship. Gia followed them.
The Volur had left the upper half of his armor stowed in his storage pouch, and wore only the shrunken lower assemblies as pants. Tane, Sinive and Gia remained within their spacesuits.
At the bottom of the ramp Tane released Jed, leaving him in Sinive’s arms. She adjusted her hold, sliding her forearms beneath his underarms and lifting his biceps so that his side and the tainted wound there was visible.
Behind her, bright daylight illuminated a pleasant, grassy meadow. It was just as blurry and insubstantial as everything else. The dark threads emerging from Tane’s joints were thick by now, further reminding him that he wasn’t in his own universe. They all pointed into the ground.
Gia leaped onto the grass and drew the two sawed-off plasma rifles from their holsters on her back, and aimed out into the field, just in case Muse was wrong about the kraals.
Tane surveyed that beautiful meadow suspiciously himself, but didn’t spot anything. Well, except for G’allanthamas, who gleefully roamed the tall grass, strutting back and forth with his sideways-oriented head held high. Eager to break free of what was essentially his prison cell, he had emerged from the cargo bay shortly after the Mosaic had landed.
“Don’t mind me!” the alien called. “Just getting in my exercise! And watching for kraals to boot! If you need anything, do ping me.”
“You don’t have any healing skills, do you?” Tane asked. He had reviewed the list of Dark works known to Tiberius, as stored in his chip, and there was no healing anywhere within the list, but it was possible the alien possessed some Dark timelines that Tiberius hadn’t.
“Healing?” G’allanthamas paused, and a couple of his fore-tentacles slid backward across his carapace. That was equivalent to a human scratching his chin in thought. “There is a work of the Dark called Renewal, which we use to self rejuvenate. It requires access to a large Darcanium sink. But there is no healing of others per se.”
“Okay, thanks,” Tane said.
The alien resumed his brisk back-and-forth strutting. Gia strode out into the field to join the dweller.
Tane reached into his pouch and retrieved the dark artifact. He’d need the Dark to guide the enormous amount of White the hull gave him if he hoped to steer the Branchwork into something resembling Wound Healing.
Tane began to enlarge the artifact, and it quickly became too heavy. He released it, throwing it off the ramp, and the thing grew into a tall lens of blackness that slammed into the ground beside the ramp with a loud thud. It balanced perfectly on its thick base, the top nearly hitting the overhanging hull region of the Mosaic above. All of the threads emerging from his body had instantly snapped from the ground to that artifact, joining him to the darkness.
Tane returned his attention to Jed, who was still held up by Sinive. His face was very pale, and his forehead glistened with perspiration.
“How do you feel?” Tane asked him via his external speakers.
“I’m cold, so cold,” Jed replied. His teeth chattered, and he shivered. “And yet I’m sweating. My side has gone numb. And the air... don’t even get me started on the air. It stinks of death. But I suspect that’s my own putrid wound I’m smelling.”
“Okay,” Tane said, regretting he’d asked. “So. Are you ready?”
“No,” Jed said. “But if you’re going to do this, now’s the time. Before I change my mind.”
Tane rested a gloved hand on Jed’s bare shoulder.
He reached up with his free hand, but the hull was out of reach. He stood on the small crate Gia had provided, and tried again. He could just contact the underside of the overhanging hull above, while his other hand barely remained in contact with Jed’s shoulder. He could feel the hurricane of White waiting to be unleashed from the hull above him.
He kicked out his right leg, so that his boot touched the bulging center of the dark artifact beside him. He looked ridiculous, he was sure. But that didn’t really matter at the moment. Beyond the infinite blackness, he could feel the fiery conflagration of the Dark eager to be loosed upon the world.
Tane obliged it. He filled the meadow and all the air around him with flames only he could see. Those flames burned through his core, threatening to sear away his being.
Siphoning bonus. All Dark Essenceworks are enhanced 570% due to Siphoning through Dark Artifact.
He stepped into the White Essence through the hull, and the terrible tempest of stellar wind shrieked across his bones, its frigid cold offering no release from the burning inside him, a cold that nearly carried him away before it burst from his core and formed a massive uncontrollable ribbon. It was so huge that Tane had to throw out an Essence Sight lifeline to see it all, and to properly grow it into the healing Branchwork he desired.
Siphoning bonus. All White Essenceworks are enhanced 3429% due to Siphoning through Chrysalium hull.
He started the White root and the sapling grew quickly. Too quickly: he had to discard it. He began again, and this time quenched the flames of the Dark at the same time, forcing the new fires to appear right up against the White Branchwork. It worked: those flames buttressed and supported the White’s frigid fury, controlling a tree that would have otherwise spread unchecked. And with it, he formed a combined work of White and Dark. Hot and Cold. Arcanum and Esoterum.
It wasn’t the same as the mixed Essenceworks that Tiberius had taught him, where the White tree and Dark timeline were intricately and fully interwoven. Rather, what Tane had created was a White Essencework whose exterior was merely constrained by the Dark, as represented by the black veins that shot through the surface.
He allowed the immense Healing work to partially set in this reality and sent it into the Volur.
Jed clenched his jaw and stiffened as if in pain when the waves of stellar wind gusted into him.
Tane directed the Branches and Leaves of the Esoterum through Jed’s body, making the final adjustments needed to heal the wound, and applying the necessary Arcanum to keep those last changes in check.
He hadn’t yet set the work completely, but he knew right away it wasn’t going to take. While the wind was able to scour away the detritus on the outskirts of the wound, revealing the pure darkness inside, the Essence was unable to touch that black inner core. It was like an unbreakable rock that refused to cede.
Jed gritted his teeth so hard that Tane saw blood along the gum line. Mercifully, the Volur finally passed out, his head lolling forward. Sinive continued to hold him upright in her grasp. A part of his mind realized the lower part of her faceplate had an orange smudge covering the inside: her entire chin was covered in vomit. She was experiencing the nausea that other Essenceworkers felt whenever someone Siphoned through a Chrysalium hull. It probably felt the same as being aboard a starship during a distortion tunnel jump, except that jump never ended. He was surprised she was still able to hold up the Volur… she probably had to increase the servomotor output of her suit to the max.
Tane returned all of his concentration to Jed, and to the impossible task that awaited him. He had to get this done quickly, before he disintegrated the hull of the ship. But though he strove to penetrate the wound, that black core would not cede.
And then he had an idea. He remembered how the larger crillia had writhed as if burned when he had directed the flames of the dark against them. It made some sense that if those fires could harm crillia, they could harm microcrillia, too.
When Tane directed those Dark flames ahead of the White Branchworks and into the blackness of the wound, he seemed to be making headway, at first. He scraped away the outer regions of the black core, and seemed to be making progress, but eventually all advancement stopped and the fires ceased to penetrate. He tried with all his being, alternately pushing Dark and then White into the black heart that remained, but it was to no avail. It was as if he fought against a living, malevolent entity that deflected all his efforts.
A vague memory of Tiberius told him that once the microcrillia
took root in a human body, in we beings of the Umanitar, the microscopic creatures changed inexorably in some way, making them resistant to the effects of the Dark.
Jed had been right: Tane simply didn’t have the skill to heal this wound. The brute force approach of Siphoning through a starship’s hull might work with something like an Essence Missile or some other Branchwork of war, but Wound Healing, not so much. If Tane continued for much longer, he would succeed only in causing irreparable damage to the Chrysalium hull of Gia’s vessel, as well as the dark artifact. And maybe Jed himself.
Hoping for the best, Tane allowed the final work to completely set in this universe and then let it sink inside of Jed.
Then he stepped out of the White and released the Dark, and collapsed. He fell off the crate and hit the ramp with a loud clank.
“Tane!” Sinive said.
“I’m fine,” Tane said weakly. “The suit broke by fall.” He wrapped his gloved hand around the beam hilt hanging from his belt and struggled to his feet.
He dismissed the notification that had appeared on his HUD.
Level up. Dark and White Mixing is now Level 2. You may now master more complex mixed works. Branches and Timelines are created 20% faster.
Sinive was still holding up Jed, allowing Tane to examine his side.
The black veins hadn’t receded in the least, and the festering black wound at their heart stared back at Tane in spite, untouched.
Sinive leaned forward to gaze at his side as well, and her face dropped when she saw it.
Jed opened his eyes. “I’m not healed.”
“No,” Tane said sadly.
“I’m not so cold, anymore, though.” Jed straightened, and eased out of Sinive’s grasp. He lost his balance and leaned on her again a moment later, though.
