Star Chaser- The Traveler

by Reiter

  Lark smiled, feeling warmed by the thought of spending a cherished wintery moment with Freund, but there was something wrong with the moment… something not quite right with him.

  “I lost a piece,” Freund explained. “I was attempting to have the impact of the event register on me as little as possible.”

  “Swing and a miss,” Tolarra said.

  “My King-side Bishop is just a cold piece again,” he stated.

  “Is there anything you can do?” Tolarra asked. “Maybe they’re in trouble.”

  “You mean like being stuck in a tree?” Freund asked and Lark immediately felt the jest. “What would you have me do, if such were the case?”

  “I would have you be less of a butthead and just take the win,” Tolarra started. “And I know the ‘I told you so’ number is going to jump exponentially on this, but can you explain how that damn thing works?”

  Freund laughed for a moment and he waved for Tolarra to join him at the table. She moved toward an open chair, but Freund took hold of her hand and sat her down in his lap. Again he could feel her smile.

  “First of all,” Freund started, “it isn’t damned in the least, save for in whose possession it has been placed.” He took Tolarra’s hand and gently put it to the base of the board. “Close your eyes and tell me what you see.”

  Tolarra closed her eyes and an image of the Rims flashed into her mind. The depth and scope of the image overwhelmed her and she removed her hand, opening her eyes and clutching at Freund to steady herself. She could feel his soft chuckle as Freund took hold of her hand and caressed it gently.

  “Easy now.” His voice calmed her and Tolarra leaned back against him. “It is a bit much to take in at first, but this board is nothing of the sort. It simply looks like a board because that is easier for us to interpret. You saw the Rims because the game has been declared. Our sights have been set on the human race and its greatest current adversary. Sol is not in play at the moment, so you cannot see it now. But you did see the Rims, didn’t you?”

  “Unlike I’ve ever seen it before,” Lark replied. “And I have flown through those systems!”

  “Yes you have, but always, always, it was your eyes you engaged. Now you also perceive the sense of life.”

  “Excuse me,” Tolarra said, turning to look at Freund. “Are you trying to tell me there is an eleventh sense?”

  “Eleventh?” Freund snorted. “Tolarra, you surprise me!”

  “Try to remember that I was recruited by a jacked-up Space Marine who put his self-designed trick weapons down for Inner and Outer Coherent Light,” Tolarra explained. “You learn a few things from an interplanetary leatherneck who sings his own version of Kumbayah!”

  “I am sure you would,” Freund giggled. “And the easiest answer to your question is yes.”

  “But that’s not the answer you’re giving me.”

  “No, it isn’t. The sense of life isn’t the eleventh, it’s the first! It is from the sense of life that the other senses developed. And unlike the other senses, vitaception links to all the other senses. While we’re in the throes of mortality, we believe that once one is deprived of one sense, the others grow sharper.”

  “Is that inaccurate?”

  “It is short-sighted,” Freund stressed. “Of course it happens, but why does it happen? What causes it to occur and through what means is it carried out?!”

  “And the board is vitaceptive?” Tolarra asked, looking at the chessboard again. Once more it felt as if something was looking back at her, but this time, she had an inkling as to why she felt that way. Something was looking back at her!

  “This is fantastic!” she thought as the feel of the wood turned warm. “It is looking at everything… listening to everything… touching–” Tolarra withdrew her hand.

  “What is it, dear?”

  “How the hell did you come by this?” she asked.

  “One of my students happened across it and gave it to me,” Freund answered, feeling the woman’s growing concern. “And you are right to be worried. Used in the wrong way, this game board can be oh so much more than dangerous! But it feels at home here.”

  “How do you know that?” Tolarra asked as she stood up. “And why do you call it… it? Shouldn’t that thing have a name or something?”

  “To possess such a high level of perception, it does not need delineation,” Freund explained. “It knows when you are referring to it.

  “What you are doing right now is a mortal habit,” Freund said in a stronger tone. He needed to take the role of mentor and remind Tolarra that though her body was no longer susceptible to mortality, her mind needed to undergo the same level of evolution. “… naming something to make it appear more human… to make it easier for you to co-exist with it… to give you the illusion of control. You cannot control this, Tolarra, which is why it is the perfect tool to use in this game.”

  “Can you hide your thoughts from it?”

  “No! It is a master of vitaception; that exists before thought.”

  “So if you wanted to, you could–”

  “Read any mind I cared to?” Freund finished. “If it were of the mind to allow myself to do so… yes, I very well could. But, Tolarra, I am a telepath of considerable ability. As it stands, reading minds is part of what I do.”

  “So why don’t you use it to track down Fission?”

  “Once again, that is something I can do for myself. I’m not tracking Fission because he obviously does not want to be found. We must be very careful here. There are many eyes watching, and believe me, that is all you want some of them to do.”

  “You’re talking about the gods,” Tolarra said.

  “I am, and we are the width of a molecule from having this fall into some sort of holy war.”

  “Did you say ‘from having’? Freund, should I bring you up on current events?!”

  “I do not receive the power of worship,” Freund argued.

  “And you really think that keeps you from being a god?!” Tolarra threw her hands up in frustration, standing up and walking away from Freund. “Talk about a lack of perception! At your direction, I burned a hole through the incarnate expression of a Fundamental Force! You wanna tell me now that we’re going down to the market to see what fresh produce they got in?! Baby, once you start bitch-slapping gods, if you’re still breathing afterwards… yeah, you’re a god!”

  “How fortunate then, that the bureaucracy which governs entities does not agree with you,” Freund said softly, rising from his chair. “I realize that when you wish to be broad minded, I give specifics and vice-versa, but that is the harmony of things. Gods are only mortals who have forgotten how to die. And just like mortals need laws to keep from chaos, so do the forgetful immortals. By those laws, I am not a god. I am an entity. The change in name is another means of control, telling the recipient what sort of power I may or may not possess.”

  “And is control still an illusion?” Tolarra asked.

  “Oh yes! Make no mistake, it surely is! But look at like this: a man builds himself a garden.”

  “Okay, this could get ugly,” Tolarra thought.

  “And he plants his seeds,” Freund continued, choosing to ignore the thought he had heard. “… waters the soil and calls himself a gardener. If he calls himself a master of the garden, he is a fool, for he has not taken into account that he does not control the weather that could rain down and flood his garden. It could also stop raining and dry up his harvest. His illusion of control, however, did not keep him from tilling the soil and killing the lives which made their home in the dirt.”

  “That went deeper than I expected,” Tolarra muttered.

  “Whether that gardener wears denim or living MystiK silk, the soil is at his mercy. So it goes for those things living there in the dirt.”

  She stood still and thought. Her feelings for Freund had not changed, but they had been challenged. How could she love someone that she considered to be her master? Or was she still using a mortal’s per
spective to define love, already knowing the futility of such an endeavor? “How long have you been working on that metaphor?” she asked.

  “Let’s just say I was still able to see when I started putting it together.”

  “Ouch! Sucks for me then, because that sounds like a mighty long time.”

  “No, not really. I didn’t have anyone when I went through my trials. In fact, it was the loss of the most important ones that put me on to the path of my trials. You have me.”

  “Is that supposed to be a better situation?”

  “Who can say for sure?” Freund replied as he turned to leave the room. There were matters to tend to. “I do know that I am a better Freund with Tolarra at my side.”

  “Yeah, that’s how I can love him,” she muttered.

  Lark looked at the chessboard and slowly made another approach. “God, you are weird!”

  “I am sorry to offend your sensibilities,” a chorus of male and female voices sang a soft reply.

  Tolarra waved her hand in disagreement. “No. From what I’ve been able to gather, my sensibilities are the problem. Not sure I know how to think godly yet.”

  “Who is to say that would be an improvement, Lark?”

  “Wow, now it’s your turn to bake my noodle?!”

  “It is my turn to show you that your noodle does not require baking. And if I may call you Lark, you may call me Nest.” Tolarra smiled as she sat at the table.

  “That’s all kinds of cheesy!” she remarked. “So, are these supposed to be my eggs?” she asked, touching one of the chess pieces. There was no light, no sound, nothing for any of the lower senses to perceive. Tolarra was just gone, taken into the mysterious folds of the board.

  “We shall see!”

  ** b *** t *** o *** r **

  “Are you certain you are not a god?” Xaythra panted as she fell to the bed spent, traumatized, and euphoric.

  “I have found that true atheism can only exist outside the bedroom and the foxhole,” Austin replied as he sat up. He needed to bathe. He was covered in divine perspiration, and it did not sit well with him. “You’re an eager contributor.”

  “I felt myself inspired by my most recent company,” Xaythra smiled. She rolled over in the bed not knowing what to feel or what to do. The sensation was new to her and yet old, as if she was rediscovering a part of herself. She ran her fingers up through her hair before slowly running them down over her naked body. She closed her eyes and purred, remembering all the places Austin had touched and delighted. “How long have I been your prisoner?”

  “Do you still consider yourself that?” Austin returned, looking at himself in the mirror. Yes, his poker-face was still flawless, so nothing of his disgust registered in his eyes. “After all we’ve been for each other, I would like to think your perspective might have changed.” he took a seat and summoned the remote control for the room. With a push of a button, the lighting in the chamber was brighter.

  Xaythra giggled, rolling over on her stomach. “Come now, Austin, you don’t have guests. You have your creations… you have your associates… you have your… acquired goods.”

  “I prefer the term ‘property’,” Austin offered and Xaythra chuckled.

  “Very well, property it is. You have your property and you have your prisoners. You don’t have guests.”

  “I love it when a woman knows her place,” he said sarcastically.

  Xaythra laughed again, her hands running out over the mattress, feeling the linen. “I have tried so hard to hate you, Austin.”

  “Have you now?”

  “Oh yes. I’ve tried to kill you and we both know how that came out. I tried to deny you and here I am in our bed. Something in me still wants to loathe you, lover, but I can’t.”

  “Perhaps I can be of some assistance,” Austin said as he pressed a button and water filled the tub. Per his desires, it was steaming hot and filled with oils and bubbles. “Virgil!” Xaythra gasped as a stasis field formed around the bed. Virgil entered the room, carrying a remote control device.

  “And he calls me in to take out the trash,” Virgil complained as he depressed the button to send Xaythra to the laboratory. Another button caused the floor to glow in the same fashion as the bed had, but only for a brief moment. It dissipated after five small flashes of black light went off in different areas of the room. “And five more makes thirty-nine. Thirty nine different places that cow left trails of herself. That is disgusting! Not to mention crass.”

  “Oh no, we shouldn’t mention that at all.” Austin fully immersed himself in the water which glowed blue before a black burst of light bubbled up to the top and dissipated. “Make that forty places, by the way.”

  “Gross!”

  “Indeed,” Austin sighed. “The things I do for my work!” he said as the water was mixed with more oils. “You have to give her this: she’s quite resourceful!”

  “Remind me of that the next time we’re watching a documentary on flies! Oh, look, larva… how resourceful!”

  Austin burst in laughter and relaxed against the back of the tub. He lifted his left arm out of the water as a panel in the wall opened just over the tub. A robotic arm emerged and took hold of Austin’s forearm, inserting a needle into the muscle. Blood was taken before electricity was sent through the needle and into Austin’s body. He winced, but very slightly. The arm then retracted back into the wall and the panel door closed. Austin lowered his arm into the water and winced again when the water reached where the needle had been. “Was it a successful operation?” he asked.

  Virgil looked at his remote control for a moment. “Still scanning,” he reported. “It doesn’t normally take this long. You must have picked up something.” The remote beeped and Virgil smiled brightly. He slowly turned and cast his eyes on Austin. “You did it,” he said softly as his eyes began to glisten. “This is your triumph!”

  “What is it?” Austin asked, lifting his head from the backrest.

  “She is what she says she is. And we have ourselves a perfect sample of the Water of Life!”

  “Yes!” Austin hissed, splashing his fist up out of the water, touching the side of it gently to his lips three times before pounding it down back into the water.

  “But that’s not all we got out of her,” Virgil cooed. He waited a moment to make sure Austin had heard him, or at least that was what Virgil told himself. There was no way that Austin could fail to hear Virgil. Still, the moment deserved a certain level of flamboyance. “What ever will you do with Living Cosmic, I wonder.”

  “YES!” Austin shouted before he closed his eyes.

  Virgil watched in wonder. It was proving to be a most surprising day. He had never heard Austin speak at such a volume… even when he was casting some of his more powerful incantations. But it was a moment to walk away from the norm. Capturing Cosmic Energy was not a simple task, but it could be done, and had been over the years. However, none of the samples Austin collected had been sentient, and though it was only the smallest of particles, it was self-sustaining and by all measurements quite alive.

  “I was beginning to think I would have to add to my list of things I could not collect,” Austin thought. “And to think it was an inept fledgling of a goddess who brought it to me.” He reveled in his success as Virgil brought him his favorite robe.

  “What would I do without you, Virgil?”

  “Suffer greatly,” Virgil answered matter-of-factly. Austin touched the side of Virgil’s face as he giggled.

  “Not only that,” he said, walking out of the bathroom and toward his closet. He stopped to speak. “Would you mind–” Austin watched as his tub was placed in a stasis field and teleported away.

  “Yes?” Virgil asked.

  “Oh, nothing,” Austin said. “Just a needless thought.

  “Now our work really begins,” Austin announced, removing his robe. He was completely dry and the necessary oils and scents had been applied to his skin. “We shall start with MannA in our replication efforts. It’s the
simplest methodology and the easiest to recover from should something go awry.”

  Keying in commands to the remote control, Virgil nodded in acknowledgement. “Your sorcery casting chamber has already been prepared. Should I also have the cauldron heating up?”

  Austin thought for a moment, trying to recall where he had left things with Imani and Cobalt. The Lady and the Lord could be temperamental from time to time and upon their last encounter, Cobalt had made it clear who was the protector of the Realm of OmnahtI. Austin rubbed his jaw in memory. “No, let us go to Spell-Weaving before seeking of the Craft.”

  “You should have sent flowers,” Virgil replied dismissively, shaking his head.

  “It was not Imani I angered!”

  “Hello, she has the puh-nah-nah!” Virgil snapped. “Send Imani the flowers, she is good with you, and then she calms down Cobalt on your behalf!”

  Austin wanted to argue, but found the approach too strong to discount. He squinted at Virgil for a moment. “Xura-Petal Roses?”

  “Excellent choice! I’ll send three.”

  “Three?”

  “One is for smackety-wackety, and we know she doesn’t go there. Two is for sappy lovers and you’ve NEVER been there with her. Three is for, ‘hey, I had a male moment, sorry’. She’ll love it!”

  “Good, send three then. And send one of those power crystals to Cobalt.”

  “He’ll just destroy it.”

  “Sauce for the goose, Virgil,” Austin said, putting on his clothes. “All the more ammunition for when Imani pleads my case.”

  “You are deliciously evil!”

  “Not yet… but the day is young!”

  I am far from what I once was but not yet what I am going to be.

  Unknown

  Danatra told herself to reserve judgment until she had been given a chance to speak with Dungias. But every stride deeper into his dwelling only turned her stomach more.

  “Something came here to die!” she thought. “And I feel as if I am about to join its trek!” Danatra paused for a moment, looking up at the ceiling of the immense tunnel entry. Overgrowth and webs hung from the ceiling, but there was no other movement. “The stench has begun to foul my senses,” she concluded. “I will require a thorough bathing after this… all the more reason to return to Felrus as quickly as possible.”