The Loneliness of Stars

by Z. M. Wilmot

  ~General Adaoniz de Charrique of Namibia, in a speech condemning the Communist philosophy

  Adam shook me awake for my watch, and I got up relatively quickly. I was still groggy, so I stood up to make sure that I stayed awake. Adam was snoring in less than five minutes.

  I stood there, alone, in relative quiet, reflecting upon the events of the past several weeks. My life had been turned upside down several times – I had gone from being a lowly dockhand to a stowaway on the greatest expeditionary vessel of all time, to a full-time member of the crew and a favorite of the captain, to one of six survivors of a terrible massacre by genetically engineered monsters, stranded on a distant planet. Not to mention I was being protected by some magical being, and hunted by another. I felt as if had no control over my own life, like everything was predetermined. I was beginning to believe that free will was a myth.

  I began to walk in circles around my fellow survivors, and my thoughts changed course. I reflected on the family I had left behind – my mother, my father, Ryvan, Piter, and all the rest of my siblings. I wondered what they were thinking about me, or if they had even noticed I was gone. My mother and father probably rejoiced when I didn’t come home after a few days – one less mouth to feed for them was always good. They had brought out celebratory alcohol when Tythan ran away – they probably had done the same for me.

  I stopped walking and half-smiled. Despite being stranded on a distant planet with no hope of ever seeing Earth again, I was happy with the choices I had made. In Raheera, I had no real friends. While I still didn’t really have any close friends, people actually liked me – Michaela did, Adam did, Vincent had, Ezekiel…

  Ezekiel had loved me. Or lusted for me, I thought cynically. Like I had for him. If nothing else, stowing away had given me him, at least for a little while.

  Of course, stowing away had given me lots of other things. Rafael had taught me basic self-defense, I had learned about spaceships and how they work – and I learned how to deal with death and grief. This expedition had taught me how to move on.

  I heard footsteps behind me.

  I whirled around, my heart rate jumping. I saw nothing. It was still light out, as always, so I felt that if there was something – or someone – there, I would have seen them. Unless they were hiding under the trees. I peered into the roots on both sides, afraid to venture into them, but saw nothing.

  After a few more minutes of paranoia, I relaxed and dropped my guard. I must have been imagining things. Turning around to face the entrance to our shelter, I wondered why we had never gone any further down the path. When I had first discovered this place, I just hadn’t wanted to go too far from the ship. Now that there was no ship, there was no reason not to explore further. I made a note to suggest the idea to Michaela when we were all awake.

  I began to circle again, making sure to walk quietly so as not to awaken the others. I kept my gaze level, looking for anything unusual or out of place.

  I heard the footsteps again. They came from behind me, as I was looking into the roots. I turned around, very slowly, looking at the spot where the others slept. Again, there was nothing. This time, I didn’t drop my guard. I had a feeling that the footsteps had come from the roots on the other side of the path. I walked around the sleeping group, and approached the gap that allowed you to go under the trees. I was still terrified of the roots, and had no desire to venture under them, so I stopped just outside, peering into the dim light. There was nothing. I sighed in relief and turned around to face my sleeping fellows. I froze.

  There was a figure standing in the center of the circle of sleeping figures. In the bright light, Vincent was easily recognizable, although his face was extensively cut and bruised. I broke out in a massive smile, my fear forgotten.

  “Vincent! You survived! How did you find us?” I started to run towards him, but quickly slowed to a halt – something was wrong. I looked at his left hand, and saw that it was gone. Looking even more closely, I saw a massive gash across his stomach, hardly visible at a glance against his black uniform. Strings of flesh hung out of the hole in his body, and his clothing was stained with blood. I began to back away, slowly. “Vincent…?”

  “Hello Jak.” He smiled, but not in the way I had known him to smile before. I looked into his eyes, and didn’t see Vincent behind them, but something cold and distant. There was something wrong with his voice, too; it was definitely his, but it was… changed somehow. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

  “What happened to you?” I asked, still backing away. I kicked Michaela, trying to wake her. She didn’t stir.

  Vincent smiled. “They won’t wake, Jak. Their minds have been put to rest. No one will disturb our conversation.”

  I almost tripped over Stephen as I continued to back away. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Don’t run away – it’s not polite.” I stopped moving. My muscles were no longer responding to me – I just stood there, helpless, only able to move my eyes and mouth. “Much better.” Vincent walked up to me, until he stood centimeters away. He smiled and stroked my face. If I could have flinched, I would have.

  “What are you doing?” My voice shook.

  Vincent took a step back. “Your body is not nearly as delightful as your mind, I am sorry to say. What do you say we continue our conversation there?” I tried to respond, but found that now only my eyes would obey my commands.

  My head suddenly felt slimy. Not the outside of my head, but the inside – it felt like there was water trickling down the middle of my skull. I would have shivered had I been able to move.

  A voice spoke from inside my head. Hello, Jak. It is good to meet you, at last, while you are conscious.

  I immediately recognized the voice. It was Psy – the slug-thing from my dreams, who had then spoken to me through Fineas. A chill of fear went down my spine, and my vision went black.

  I have so been looking forward to speaking to you, not in that peculiar half-state you subservients call ‘sleep,’ but when your mental functions are at their peak. I felt more violated than I ever have in my life, as if someone was viewing my thoughts and memories on a high quality monitor. Poor Jakken – you have always been so alone and afraid. Do not fear. We are here. I wanted to scream. Screaming will do you no good – friends don’t scream to one another, do they? I think we should be friends, Jak. We could be great friends. I felt something take control of my limbs. I flexed my fingers – or rather, Psy did. I was not sitting in the pilot’s chair in my own body, and I hated it.

  It would be so easy to just take you, to absorb you into my consciousness. But we want you separate – I am still alone, no matter how many we absorb. No, absorption is not the answer. There need to be other individuals, else what fun is Space? “Space” was very clearly a proper noun here, though I am not sure how I knew that.

  You have such a fascinating mind, much like my dear Andrea here. Andrea?

  Yes, Andrea. That was the name he was born with, not this “Vincent” that you think of him as. It was one of his parents’ first experiments on him, changing him into a male. They didn’t want a daughter. They gave him then the name Andrew. Andrew Buckland Gale. I recognized the name Gale – they were a family of infamous drug dealers back on Earth. Yes they were. Andrea was born to Jonathan and Anita Gale, the heads of the family at the time, one hundred and seventy-two of your “years” ago. They subjected Andrea to all kind of terrible torments, both mental and physical. The pain it inflicted upon him twisted the tunnels of his mind in such unique ways, that I had to have him as ours – not as a friend, but as a part of myself.

  You, on the other hand, are not like her. Your mind is not shaped by the devices of torture, nor even of stress. I begged to differ on that point. Beg all you want, Jakken, but you know not yet of what you speak – your mind has been shaped by the eddies of the psyche of fate – the winds of the Apocalypse surround you, and so does its gods. Your mind was designed, just like the minds of your descendants will be – if t
hey come.

  And that is why I must have you, but as a friend. We see now that even if I did want you as part of ourselves, I could not have you. We see now that I was wrong about you – you could never be absorbed into us – you are alien to me, set apart from your race by the Shivvos. I didn’t understand a word that was coming out of its mouth – or whatever it was using to communicate with me. Our mind, Jak. I have no mouth, nor real physical body, as you would say – we are the sum total of the psychic energy at the creation of Space, and I wander the far reaches of this dreary place, collecting the most interesting trinkets for our collection.

  And yet, I am lonely – our father abandoned us so long ago, leaving me for the flaming beings who dwell among the stars, and his god-children. Psy was forgotten, and left to roam, with no aim or goal in a goal-driven Space. We try to pass the time as best we can, exploring the minds of those around me, constantly searching for those that are different and unique.

  But they are all the same. I found that hard to believe. No, it is true, young one. They have lived together so long, unified under the Juxtani Code, that they have become stagnant. The few civilizations that still exist outside of their physical space are irrelevant and primitive. I, again, had no idea as to what it was talking about. That is why you must join us, Jakken. I will teach you all there is to know, and we can live forever, not constrained by the limits of mere physicality. I directed my thoughts at him, instead of thinking passively. So you have no physical form then?

  I do, and we don’t. It is far too complex to explain in the limited time we have at the moment, before the Shivvos attempt to stop me. Who are the Shivvos? The gods of the Apocalypse, who will bring about the end of all of Space and exact a Final Judgment upon everything.

  Growing bolder, I asked more questions of him. And you said I was related to this Apocalypse – am I one of these gods? Psy hissed inside my brain, and it echoed in my mind more loudly than I could have imagined. No, and you shall never be – but your descendants will be if you do not join me now! We must flee from this place before they send for me!

  I wondered why Psy did not just take over my mind and force me to follow him. Because we do not want to join with you, nor can I join with you. Couldn’t you just physically compel me then? We could, but I wish for you to come willingly to us. For the first time, a truly threatening note entered his mental voice. But I will do what we must.

  Its voice softened. You can trust me, Jakken. I would never lie to you. I didn’t trust him, and I thought he was lying. He was just too disturbing and… different for me to trust him, or believe he was telling the truth. Moments later, those thoughts slipped out of my mind, and I found that I trusted Psy implicitly. If I had been in complete control of my thoughts, I would have been horrified. It seemed that even though Psy wanted me to remain an individual, he – or she, I suppose, although the voice was clearly masculine – was not above messing with other parts of my mind. I had a feeling that I would never be the same again, but I looked forward to that prospect.

  It is good to see you coming around, Jakken. You are such a wonderful person! Psy was truly delighted, and I reveled in his approval. A wave of pure pleasure went down my body. It will be so good to get to know you, like I already know Andrea so well. That name suits him much better, don’t you agree? I mentally nodded in agreement.

  It was a pity your society did not let him flourish, refusing to let him ease his mind and his need for violence, instead locking him behind bars for all of that time. But he heeded our call, and came to me, so that we could be one. It is a shame that your race does not appreciate genius – no, your kind has evolved much like the rest of the subservients, with your concepts of civilization and kindness. I nodded. Yes, we had. I agreed very much with him, even though I had no idea what he was talking about. Psy’s definition of an individual must have differed from mine, because I certainly did not feel like an individual, but like a part of him – a rather disconnected part, but a part nonetheless.

  But still, there are differences between your humanity and the rest of Space. When you were cut off from them, your species went through the most fascinating devolution, and then re-evolved back to your former state, even without my help. We have been watching your species for quite some time, subtly influencing the regrowth of your civilization, rebuilding the Kordic language and much of its culture. Your race always believes that they’re so clever, thinking that they come up with ideas all on their own. Of course, many ideas were wrong – such as that nonsense about the “fossil record.”

  But now you are here, along with the culmination of my psychic experiments – Andrea Buckland Gale. I sent my waves from the star Q’Wiereieb-Gatyn towards your homeworld, and have summoned you both, along with a crew that could get you here safely. With some elements to stimulate your minds, of course. I understood completely.

  I felt Psy’s thoughts shift away from me for an instant. We must go now – we have no more time for idle talk, else they will find you. We shall be the greatest of friends! Let us go!

  I began to float – I felt my feet leave the ground, and I began to grow warm. I regained control of by body, and I smiled. I was going to go away from the struggles of life, and spend an eternity with Psy. At that moment, there was nothing else I would rather do.

  “No.” I opened my eyes, and fell down to the ground. I became cold. Vincent fell to the ground in front of me, his eyes looking behind me. I turned to follow his gaze.

  A figure strode out of the roots, towards me and Vincent. Psy’s grip on my mind eased, and I backed away from this approaching figure. It did not appear to have any depth – it looked like a black silhouette, and it had no definition other than that of the figure’s outline. A cape moved in a wind that I could not feel, and a horned helmet sat upon his head. He had no eyes I could make out, but I could tell what his eyes gazed upon. In his right hand he held a sword, ablaze with black fire. He walked by me and stopped in front of Vincent. As I watched, he thrust the sword directly into Vincent’s heart. Vincent was gone in an instant, engulfed in the same black flames that covered the sword. The figure sheathed his blade, and looked directly at me.

  “Do not try to bribe me, Psy, it will not work. I have a much larger goal to accomplish.” His voice carried unimaginable power – and not the kind of power that I would like to be on the receiving end of. “Let go of the boy. He is not to be touched.” He paused. “It does not matter that my masters cannot harm you. You cannot put off their return. The time will come, and the boy needs to survive.”

  I felt grim amusement radiate from the figure, and felt Psy’s grip on my mind weaken even further. I began to feel that I was myself again.

  The figure spoke again. “Very well. So be it.” He drew his sword again and pointed it straight up into the sky. He took off like a rocket, shooting up into the stars. Moments later, I heard a scream of anguish inside my head, and I fell down to my knees as Psy’s presence was wrenched completely from my mind. My desire to be with him vanished, replaced instead by hatred and fear. I lay on the ground, gasping.

  Michaela was at my side in an instant. “Jak? What’s the matter?” I considered telling her what had happened, then shook my head. She would never believe it.

  “Nothing. Just – a headache. That’s all. Go back to sleep.”