by Josh Leone
“The Admiral is on the line for you, Caller,” Franks informed him.
“Thank you. Put her through.”
“Admiral Simms, it is good to hear from you. I do hope I am not interrupting anything important.”
“Not at all, Caller Vashek. The officers and crew of the Legion world-ship Judgment are honored by your presence. We have made docking port six-eight-alpha ready for you.”
“It has been too long since I have been able to interact directly with the fine men and women who serve and protect the Primacy.” Vashek found himself smiling slightly, as though from a joke. ‘The fine men and women.’ Just more chaff as far as Vashek was concerned. After his ascension, he and his devoted followers would reorganize the Legion, the Ministry of Records, and the Civil Authority. There would be no more use for clumsy and wasteful things like the world-ships. No more use for clumsy and wasteful titles like ‘Admiral,’ titles that only served to stroke the inflated egos of people like Simms.
Simms offered to be Vashek’s guide on a tour of the ship but he declined, citing Simms’ obviously busy schedule. Vashek had already committed the entire layout of the world-ship to memory.
“It would please me to tour your fine vessel alone.”
“As you wish, Caller. I will inform the crew that you are onboard. Any department head will be at your disposal should you have questions.”
“Thank you, Simms.” It was a bit of an insult that Vashek had not used her title. Vashek felt it was good to occasionally remind his tools of their place. Simms was a woman who took great pride in her title believing, in spite of the facts, that she’d earned it.
After leaving Simms Vashek began his tour. The ship was well run, he had to admit. There was something pleasing about the way each system integrated with and supported every other system. Vashek thought of the officers and crew as gears in a massive machine, one nearly as complex as a human body. Perhaps he would keep the world-ships after he’d ascended. Populated with suitably indoctrinated worshippers they could be useful.
While he subdivided his mind as he inspected the ship and engaged in simple conversation with random crew, the majority of his mental resources kept circling back to the fact that he would soon be in possession of the key to his transformation. The Pash shard would allow him to circumvent most of the barriers to his plan. After a test to insure it worked as he expected, it would be time to finally shed his flesh and take his place as the new God.
Some of the crew Vashek interacted with, while greatly honored by his presence, sensed a strangeness about the Caller. Though none would dare suggest such a thing out loud, it was a feeling of mania, as if the Caller’s mind was fraying at the edges. They dismissed such thoughts quickly, knowing that such a thing was impossible. Callers were paragons of mental clarity. Such beings would of course seem strange to lesser creatures.
“Are you well, Caller?” Vashek had almost forgotten Franks was with him. As a P.A. Franks had been trained to be invisible until his services were needed, but it still bothered Vashek that such a mental slip had occurred.
“I’m fine.”
Vashek took a moment to check his body and brain for defect. Finding no biological explanation for the slip, Vashek determined that it was merely a psychological reaction to the impending reception of the Olim-Ojim. Still, Vashek decided to return to his private ship where he could meditate and organize his thoughts.
◊
Seth saw the ship on scanners well before he had a visual on it. The Judgment had an energy output equal to that a moderately populated planet. As the world-ship came into view Seth signaled his approach. The Judgment signaled back, ordering Seth to transfer control of the Journey to the world-ship’s flight control system. Seth complied, not that there was much choice in the matter.
As the Enduring Journey entered the launch bay assigned to it Seth felt the telltale flip-flopping of his stomach as gravity control was shifted to the Judgment. His ship was picked up by a robotic arm and placed like a child’s toy into its assigned berth.
When Seth and the rest of his crew exited the ship they were met by an interesting collection of greeters. In addition to the standard complement of Legion soldiers there was also the Admiral and a being Seth recognized as a Caller. Though Seth couldn’t recall the Caller’s name on sight he assumed it was the one to which Jonah was to deliver his prize. ‘Vashek,’ Seth recalled.
Standing beside and slightly in back of Vashek was a man with whom Seth was entirely unfamiliar. From the way the man tried to make himself socially invisible Seth assumed he was some kind of flunky. There was something about the man that made Seth glad he was not standing closer to him.
Seth watched Vashek greet Jonah as though the young man were the Caller’s long lost child, with warmth and obvious eagerness. Seth also noticed other things. Vashek’s eyes kept coming to rest on the wrapped bundle tucked under Jonah’s arm, and the man Seth didn’t want to get any closer to was not pleased with Vashek’s fatherly treatment of Jonah. If he had to put a name to what he was seeing Seth supposed he would have called it jealousy.
After Vashek, Jonah, and others left the room, Seth, Vig, and Iyanna were approached by a lieutenant in a typically prim and proper uniform. Clearly the man did not care for being assigned to dealing with people like crew of the Enduring Journey, but nor did he have any choice in the matter. Orders were orders.
“Captain Okan, if you and your crew would please follow me. I will show you to where you can rest and refresh yourselves. The Judgment has excellent recreation areas. While you accept our hospitality your ship will be seen to.”
◊
Vashek had had to restrain himself from reaching out and grabbing the bundle from Jonah the moment he saw it. Instead, Vashek greeted the young man with genuine enthusiasm, inviting the bringer of the Olim-Ojim to dine with him in his ship.
“I am very pleased with your success in this difficult task, Jonah.” Vashek said, his eyes ever on the Olim-Ojim where it sat on the table in front of the Honored Returned.
“It was…” Jonah paused. “Educational. I thank you for trusting me with it.”
“Educational in what way, my boy?” Was the boy acting strangely or was it just Vashek’s imagination?
“Simply that I found the experience to be enlightening in regard to many aspects of myself and the universe around me. One might call it a, ‘growth experience.’”
“Ah, well, good. It is good to always seek ways of bettering oneself and, therefore, make of oneself a better servant of the Holy Mother.”
“I quite agree, Caller Vashek,” Jonah said, his tone even and confident. Nothing like the voice of the boy Vashek had sponsored for Returning.
“Is that our prize?” Vashek ask, gesturing to the bundle.
“It is what you wanted,” replied Jonah, passing the still wrapped Olim-Ojim across the table.
Vashek’s unwrapped the crystal shard, exposing the amethyst glow, more subtle than that of a full tower but still apparent. Vashek’s hands hovered over the surface of the shard. He felt its power, knew it was indeed exactly what he had sought for so long.
There was an odd ‘twinge’ in the energy matrix of the shard. Vashek concentrated more deeply, attempting to discover the source of the strange sensation. After several minutes of intense focus Vashek was unable to detect the twinge a second time. He had studied the properties of Earth’s Calling Tower as much as he was allowed and perhaps a little more. He was as close to a true expert on the mysterious energy matrix as anyone could claim to be.
Vashek decided it was nothing of significance. No doubt a minor energy echo cause by the violent manner in which the shard had been created so long ago.
“Is there something wrong, Caller?” Vashek nearly started when Jonah’s voice came from right beside him. Vashek had not noticed the Returned approach, so lost was he in his study of the shard.
“No, nothing at all. Everything is exactly as it should be.” Vashek rose from his chair and put his
hand on Jonah’s shoulder. “I thank you, Jonah Haj. You have served the Holy Mother well this day.”
“It is my dearest hope that I have,” replied Jonah.
‘Yes,’ thought Vashek after he’d dismissed Jonah. ‘It would be wise to remove the boy as soon as possible.’ Vashek looked to where Franks stood, watched the exchange with poorly – to Vashek anyway – concealed anger.
“Be at ease, my most trusted servant,” Vashek said. “Your time is near.”
Franks calmed and smiled a smile that would have frightened the bravest of warriors.
◊
Dr. Levin was nervous. When Vashek had found him on that distant moon in the farthest reaches of Primacy space the Caller had told him that he’d heard of Levin’s work and believed he would be perfect for a private project the Caller was funding. In addition to his passion for interspecies hybridization Levin had also done some impressive work in forced maturation. It had been necessary so he could observe the life cycle of his subjects.
Vashek had allowed Levin to recruit his own staff from among the best minds credits could entice. Vashek had given Levin seemingly unlimited funding for equipment and a private facility where the Caller promised there would be no Primacy intrusion. It was freedom that Levin had only dreamt about. All the Caller wanted in return was a stable methodology for replicating a single genetic sample.
Levin had finally done it. The bioform in the tank was perfect. Not a trace of unexpected mutation. The accelerated growth had remained entirely stable and the process could be repeated at need. With the proper facilities the bioform could be replicated by the hundreds or even thousands.
Levin had suspected the nature of the sample provided to him almost from the first time he’d analyzed it. His suspicion only grew as time passed and was finally confirmed when the bioform was fully developed. Even one as oblivious to anything beyond himself as Dr. Sean Levin recognized the bioform’s ruggedly handsome face.
Why Vashek would want such an empty vessel, Levin did not care. He’d wisely kept his suspicions to himself. There were assistants to his efforts that likely also suspected the truth and Vashek would no doubt send his dog, Franks, to murder them. It was a shame really. Some of them were very good at what they did. Levin would have preferred to keep them on. Oh well, new staff could always be found and with the continued funding promised by Vashek recruitment would not be difficult.
Chapter 8
All things are opposed by other things, that the truth of each may be revealed.
-Book of Gifts (1-17)
Vashek considered each of the various pieces of his plan. Each was exactly as it should be, each progressing precisely as Vashek had anticipated. He had the Olim-Ojim. Jonah Haj had done his part, defeating the strange guardian of the shard.
The newly created bioform, externally identical to Szoveda Sha yet equipped with several internal modifications, was ready and waiting for Vashek’s use. It was a shame the real Sha had failed to react to his wife’s death with the unthinking warrior rage Vashek had expected but, now that the Returned was safely contained in the oceanic estate, he was no threat. Franks would enjoy the challenge though Vashek’s projections clearly indicated that Sha would prevail against the P.A.
The place of his ascension was prepared and ready. The required equipment all had to be custom made and in thousands of separate pieces to conceal its purpose from the manufacturers, but it was all in place now and working perfectly, awaiting only the crystal shard to make it whole.
The machine he’d designed and built would be his womb, making it possible for him to evolve from a being of frail flesh into one of pure psi. While he was in that womb he would be most vulnerable. The Olim-Ojim would provide the core of an artificial tower matrix. Vashek would translate his physical self through the artificial matrix and, through force of will, emerge as a being of coherent psi. Vashek had developed his will for centuries, even before he’d known that ascension was possible. It was yet another indication that it was his fate to succeed.
◊
Seth, Vig and herself had been treated well, Iyanna had to admit. Yet she felt ill at ease. The reason was obvious. They were in the lion’s den, so to speak, in the very mouth of the beast. Seth and Vig appeared able to maintain good spirits despite their surroundings but Iyanna was having a harder time of it.
They had been given a joined suite of guest quarters usually reserved for visiting dignitaries. That they were being watched every second was without question. Every square inch of the Judgment could be viewed through millions of cameras, some hidden, some not. The ship was so heavily automated that not for the first time Iyanna wondered why the Primacy even bothered with a human crew.
“The Primacy runs on the idea that humans are the best thing going,” Vig had told her when she’d asked. “How would it look if the jewel of the Legion was a bot-only ship? Bots can do just about everything a human can do these days except be human.”
Iyanna thought of the Far Star’s station A.I., William. The old A.I. had cared about her and she missed him a lot. She hoped that when they were away from the Legion, away from insane Callers and plots and mystical crystals, the Enduring Journey might head to Far Star for some real R&R. She wanted to introduce Jonah to William. It was crazy but she knew it would be like taking her new boyfriend to meet her father. It was such a simple thing, so ordinary compared to what had happened in her life recently, it filled her with joy to think about it. She suspected William would like Jonah and the rest of her new family.
◊
Seth laughed as Vig exited his private bedroom into the central living area. The old man was wearing a fluffy robe and fluffy slippers. His hair, what there was of it, was matted down and he looked entirely satisfied with himself.
“What the hell are you wearing?”
“They were in the head, all clean and warm when I got out of the bath.”
“You took a bath? Here we are trapped on board a Legion world-ship and you’re taking baths?”
“Yep,” said Vig, not a trace of remorse in his voice.
“I’ll bet you even used the complimentary oils and salts?”
“Yep… hey, how did you know about those?”
“I took a bath, too,” Seth said. “Leave it to the Legion to run their warships like five-star hotels.”
“Yep,” Vig laughed. “Let’s steal the towels when we leave.”
“Good idea.”
Vig sat down on the comfortable couch, nodding to Iyanna as she joined them. The girl looked tense. Seth figured she had good instincts.
“So, Cap’n,” Vig said. “What’s the plan?”
“Well, first thing is you’re going to close your robe.” Vig did; the organic parts of his face turning bright red while Iyanna covered her mouth to keep from giggling.
“After that, I figure we haven’t got much choice but to sit and wait for Jonah to come back.”
“Well,” Vig offered. “Did you two know there are actual restaurants on this heap?”
“Seriously?”
“Yep, there are whole sections of this ship made to look just like towns. They’ve got stores and parks and everything. Even artificial sky and sunlight.”
“That would be nice,” Iyanna said. “I haven’t felt real grass for ages.”
“Okay,” said Seth. “As Captain and Lord High Almighty Wizbang HooHa of this crew, I command that we wiggle our toes in the grass and eat ourselves sick at the Legion’s expense.”
“Sounds like a good plan, Cap’n,” Vig stood up and performed a mocking salute.
“Yes, sir, Captain, sir!” Iyanna said with great drama as she mimicked Vig’s salute.
“But first,” Seth said. “Vig, you go find some pants to hide your shame. Don’t want to scare the locals.”
Vig closed his robe, it having fallen entirely open when he saluted, and ran quickly for his room. This time Iyanna didn’t even try to stop herself from laughing, nor did Seth.
◊
Vash
ek did not dream. His mind had long since ceased to require the dreaming process to encode information into long-term memory. Vashek also did not require the unconscious process for reconciling input. In fact, Vashek rarely slept, his enhanced mind being capable of ‘sleeping’ in sections while the rest remained awake and aware. For this reason, Vashek found it disturbing to have woken up unexpectedly from a deep sleep. He’d fallen asleep in his chair while studying the Olim-Ojim, yet again trying to identify the ‘twinge’ he’d felt when first touching the shard.
As before, Vashek had been unsuccessful. While he knew he was obsessing there was just something that told him he needed to be extra careful. Vashek was unused to ‘gut-feelings’ and when he’d found himself unable to do anything else until he’d examined the shard again it had shaken him badly.
Worse still, Vashek had a vague memory of confronting something in what he could only call a dream. He was in a large, open meadow by a tree. His hands held a weapon and there was blood pooling around his feet though he could not find its source. A voice spoke into his ear from mere inches away. When Vashek turned to see who had spoken there was no one there and the only sound was the wind. But the voice had been clear.
‘False god, your lies are known. You will not prevail.’
Vashek put the odd occurrence aside and turned his attention back to his study of the shard. He would be leaving soon to put the shard where it belonged, in the heart of his machine. He commanded himself to stop obsessing. The ‘twinge’ had been nothing. He wrapped the shard in clean cloth and placed it inside a beautifully carved wooden box he’d made for it. As Vashek closed the lid of the ornate box he noticed his hands were sweating.
◊
Szoveda Sha was resting when the call came in. It wasn’t Vashek as Sha had expected but rather the Caller’s P.A., Franks. The man spoke with respect but Sha couldn’t help thinking Franks resented having to do so.
