by S. D. Perry
Facity stepped back through the opening after Wex, working to let her own disappointment go, finding that it wasn’t too difficult. It wasn’t in the Wadi nature to take such things too seriously; not every gamble paid off, it was a fact of life. The Even had canceled their contract with the Rodulans to clear their schedule, but that wasn’t so great a loss. Witnessing the death of a Tosk might be the worst of it.
“What are those?” Pif asked, bringing her attention back to the job at hand. He was shining his light on some protruding rocks high on the wall.
“Rocks,” Neane said lightly, “the ones I saw earlier. Amazing, aren’t they?”
Before Pif could retort, Dez shushed him, training his own light on the rocks. There were eight, nine of them, small and almost flat, set at about eye level for Dez in two curved, vertical lines. Each stuck out only a few centimeters, was roughly the size and shape of a smashed ferment-grape; if not for the loose formation, too symmetrical for a random occurrence, Facity doubted that anyone would have noticed them at all.
Dez walked over and brushed at them…and came away with a handful of dust. The stones beneath were different colors.
“Get Brad in here,” Dez said, as the rest of the crew gathered around. Facity leaned back outside and asked Brad to come in, wondering if the rocks were actually jewels, wondering if they’d found something worthwhile, after all.
“That one’s kejelious,” Jake was saying, as Facity and Brad stepped back inside. Opaka was nodding.
“And that pink one’s temonis,” she said. “I had a box made from it when I was a child.”
Facity didn’t know geology, but neither sounded expensive. Brad stepped in to look, touching a few of them before shaking her head.
“Most of these aren’t stone,” she rumbled.
Jake was nodding. “Kejelious is a kind of clay,” he said. “So’s, ah, grem. That greenish one. I think the red one is, too…I forget the name.”
“How do you know all these?” Pif asked.
“B’hala,” Jake said, still squinting at the lines. “It looks like they’re all materials the ancient Bajorans used. I spent a lot of time cataloguing fragments.”
Brad pointed at a dark blue stone, at the bottom of the second line. “That one’s semiprecious, it’s called dezomin. But the grade…it’s not worth prying out of the wall.”
Facity sighed. So much for walking away with a handful of gems. She turned to Opaka, who hadn’t said anything since before Tosk’s discovery of the scratch writing.
“Are you getting any kind of, ah, feeling about this?” she asked.
“I still feel the pagh,” Opaka said, “but nothing new or different. Though I think it quite unusual that these pieces apparently coincide with materials once used on Bajor…don’t you?”
Facity nodded, repressing another sigh. Except for feeling her way to the cave, Opaka didn’t seem to have much use. And the connection to her homeworld—ninety thousand light-years away—was unusual, but not bizarre. Considering the Anomaly was only three light years away, Idran and Bajor weren’t all that far apart.
“What’s that one?” Brad asked Jake.
“Not sure, but I can tell you it’s from the end of the Sh’dama Age,” Jake said…and as he spoke, Facity started to get an idea, thinking of what Tosk had said, and Opaka…and she looked at Dez, and saw that he’d already gotten it.
“…and from the now to the beginning, in order touch the eras…” Ages?
Instructions. The wording was strange, but not even particularly cryptic, telling them to touch the materials in reverse chronological order, dating from the present—or the present when the device had been built—to the beginning, presumably the beginning of time, or culture.
“Jake,” Dez said urgently, and when Jake turned away from the lines of stones, Facity could see that he had exactly the same idea.
“Now to the beginning, isn’t that what he said?” Jake asked, his eyes bright with dawning, and Facity started to grin. It seemed that Tosk had told them just enough.
“Before Aclim was Sh’dama…and before that was Eyisla…”
“Wait,” Jake said, staring at the stones, frowning in concentration. “That’s…kejelious, then dezomin, then grem…”
Opaka waited, filled with wonder at what they’d found, still flushed and tingling from the overwhelming sensation of so much energy in one place. Even the terrible death of poor Tosk hadn’t wiped away the physical excitement, much as it saddened her. Such a brutal death for such a simple creature, who had harmed no one. She prayed that the Hunters would someday learn to respect life…and she hoped very much that Tosk had heard the Hunter say that his death would be honorable. Opaka didn’t believe in such things, but knew that it had been important to Tosk.
The others in the small cave had fallen silent, obviously wanting to let her and Jake concentrate. She knew the Ages by heart, but had never seen some of the materials that Jake had seen, working at B’hala.
“And the, ah, Tumika Age was first, right?” Jake asked, and Opaka nodded.
“Okay,” he said. “Then we’re ready.”
He turned and looked at Dez. “There’s one here I don’t know, but I’m going to guess it predates the others, whatever it is.” He smiled a little. “If I’m wrong, I guess I can do it over again, put it somewhere else.”
The captain nodded, and Opaka felt a shiver of anticipation. What would happen when all the pieces were touched? Jake, Wex, Tosk, herself…they’d been brought together to do this one thing, to solve this puzzle in a place that felt full of life, but was lifeless. So many others had been affected by the undertaking, from the Sen Ennis to the Even’s crew, all to do as the Tosk had been directed, as the Prophets had foreseen.
Jake touched the first stone, then the second and third, naming them in a whisper. Opaka and the others watched, no one seeming to breathe as Jake hesitated, touched and hesitated again.
“…grem…ashflake…” He sighed, reaching for the last stone. “…and whatever this one is.”
Jake touched the last piece, a soft, white rock…and then everything changed, in the blink of an eye. Somebody gasped, and somebody else let out a short, sharp yelp of sound, but Opaka didn’t, couldn’t see who. Her senses were flooded, the pagh exploding in intensity, so much of it washing over and through her that she felt like she was floating.
And oh, the singing!
The tiny, dark cave was gone, just like that. There was luminous white light, coming from everywhere, and they were standing in a great chamber, towering and massive, with rows and rows of strange beings lining the walls, sitting or standing on wide ascending steps, the beings hunched over and pink, long arms wrapped around long bodies. There were hundreds, perhaps thousands of them, all of them perfectly still, and making a beautiful sound. The sound should have been overwhelming with so many of them but it wasn’t, it was soft and lilting, a hum, serene and yet exultant, that went on and on.
Opaka turned, saw that that the front of the chamber was glassed, that it looked out upon a small but beautiful city stretching out to the west. There were paths of flowers and stones twining around a number of tall, curved buildings, a few of them shaped like stars, multilimbed like the creatures who sat in the rows, singing. She saw that Glessin was inside the chamber now, that he was both frightened and excited, and she saw that the others around her wore similar expressions of awe and amazement and fear.
How can they fear? Can’t they feel it? The creatures were meditating, they were joined in spirit, and radiating such wondrous peace…. She’d never felt anything remotely like it.
Opaka turned again, saw that one of the singing creatures closest to them had ceased its tuneful chant. It unfolded itself, standing, stretching out long, willowy pink limbs, seven that Opaka could see. Its body was slender and tubelike, and very tall, half a meter taller than the captain. It opened a single eye that stretched across its narrow face, a soft gray, which it blinked slowly, which curved upward like a smile as it
saw them. With a last sinewy stretch, it broke away from the singers, propelling itself forward over a dancing tangle of limbs, its eye curving even more as it approached.
It stopped in front of them and started to speak, a beautiful language that the translators didn’t know, the creature’s voice deep and calm, the sound it made seemingly continuous. It spread its upper limbs wide, and Opaka stepped forward, ignoring Wex’s warning hand on her shoulder, ignoring the sound of a signaling communicator and Dez’s soft conversation. The translators picked up the very last words as she, too, opened her arms, and embraced the radiant creature.
“…welcome to you, my sister,” it said, and its flesh was warm, and smelled like the sea.
Two things had happened, simultaneously, both basically impossible. Prees and Srral were on the bridge when the two things occurred…and they happened so suddenly, and constituted so immense a change, that Prees could only stare mutely at the viewing screen while Srral offered up statistics, as everyone on the ship called at once to report that the Wa had leaked out of the subdeck. Feg said there were a number of small birdlike animals laughing in his bathroom, Aslylgof had been showered with drops of something like honey, the Wadi art appraisers were calling to say that a small panel of the bulkhead wall on C had turned into a mouth and was chanting. Triv and Pri’ak were both reporting strange tastes and smells…and still, Prees was dumbstruck, could only stare at the planet below, and at the stars all around.
“Repeat, Srral,” she said finally, feeling breathless.
“We are now less than thirty light-minutes from the Anomaly,” Srral said calmly. “Using this ship as a point of reference, a vast region of space, including all celestial objects therein, has rotated thirty-eight degrees bearing two-seven-two on an axis approximately five light-years away. We are now three-point-three light-years from our previous position.”
Not possible. Space didn’t just move like that…but it had, and all at once. They were still orbiting the planet, but both they and it had traveled, apparently along with the entire Idran system and who knew what else. And it had happened in the blink of an eye.
“And the planet?” she asked, studying the drifting ice that still swirled around it, not at all possible, their atmosphere would have been ripped away and we’d all be dead, everyone should be dead….
“Is now showing over a thousand living beings, no matching biosignature on file, concentrated at the landing site,” Srral said. As it spoke, a smell like freshly baked bread filled the bridge. “There are a series of buildinglike structures surrounding the area.”
A city appearing, beings included, as a huge region of space shifted from one place to another, as the Wa erupted. Prees reached for the com unit on the arm of her seat as one of the bridge walls changed color and the switches on the science-station monitor began to sing.
“Are you sure?” Dez asked, keeping his voice low. Opaka was hugging the pink creature.
“Fairly,” Prees said, her tone mild, a bit shocked. “Srral says the sensor arrays are all functioning properly…and I can see it, Dez. We’ve moved. And the Anomaly is now inside the system.”
“What about the Wa? Are you in any danger?”
There was a pause. “Negative,” Prees said. “The internal sensors say the Wa is starting to recede, drawing back to the subdeck.”
That was something. “Keep me posted,” Dez said. “I’ll get back to you when we can talk.” Now was definitely not the time. As intriguing, as insane as the concept of shifting space was, Dez had no doubt that the source of it was standing in front of him, hugging the elderly Bajoran…and Dez’s sights were set on making friends.
When Opaka finally released the pink creature, it stepped back and Dez immediately stepped in, smiling, explaining that the translators hadn’t worked for most of its brief speech. The language was apparently entirely too strange. Pretty, though, Dez thought, almost like singing.
“I will tell you again,” the creature said pleasantly, curling its long, tentacle-like limbs around itself. “My name is Itu, and I welcome you, and thank you for bringing the Eav’oq back into the living time. The Eav’oq are my people, and they share my undying gratitude. We are young in the care of the Siblings, who watch over us all with Their Eyes of Light. We have been waiting for one of the Siblings’ Chosen to be found, to come to us and tell us that the persecution is no more.”
Itu curved its eye at Opaka. “You are Chosen, my sister beneath the Siblings, I feel Their sight upon you. We are united.”
Dez couldn’t stop smiling. Not only had they found the lost world of the Eav’oq—not the Eav-oq, as it turned out, but the Eav’oq—they had found the whole damned species, and the leader of said species was extremely grateful to the crew of the Even Odds for waking them up.
Well, sort of waking them up, Dez thought, looking around the giant chamber at the motionless, humming creatures. Unbelievable. And what Prees had told him…he had more questions than he could count.
“The Siblings,” Opaka said, nodding as if she understood. “I…we call them the Prophets.”
“They are surely as one,” Itu said, and though Opaka seemed somewhat unnerved by the statement, she only nodded, managing a smile. Itu turned its curved eye to look at the crew. “Is the one who found the search key among you? The crystal?”
“No,” Opaka said, her smile fading. “He has passed, Itu. He was killed after translating the instructions you left.”
“Killed?” Itu asked, his eye seeming to expand slightly. “How is this?”
“His death…” Opaka seemed to search for words. “Representatives from his culture came to claim him in a ritual of hunting,” she said finally. “We are saddened…but he passed as he would have wished.”
Itu’s voice was sympathetic. “I mourn with you. And I regret not being able to meet him, to extend our recognition of his help.”
“You say ‘him,’” Pif spoke up. “Do the Eav’oq have, ah, sexes?”
Facity shot a death-look at the Aarruri, but Itu’s eye curved slightly. “Yes. The males have eyes the color of mine. The females…do not.”
Itu was a male, then, and seemed to have at least a little bit of a sense of humor. Good. Dez wanted very much to stay on his good side.
Opaka introduced everybody, and Itu welcomed each of them before suggesting that they move outside, so as not to disturb the other singers. He said that the meditation would end for each of them individually, when they were ready to wake, and Dez added another handful of questions to his list.
Itu led them through a carved opening in the front of the chamber, nothing like the fissure that they’d originally walked through, out onto a leveled path of stones, entirely free of algae. Where had the cave gone? Were there slime-covered rocks underneath the path? Dez looked around at the giant, silent buildings, obviously empty, entirely awed by it all. An instant city, back after half an eternity because a Tosk had picked up a crystal…and the Gamma Quadrant itself had been affected.
Itu seemed to breathe deeply, two of his lower, thicker limbs expanding and then deflating.
“The air is different,” he said.
“It’s been a long time since you were, ah, in the living time,” Dez said. “Something like fifty millennia.”
“That is a long time,” Itu agreed, not seeming overly bothered by it.
“If I might ask…where have you been?” Dez asked. “And why?”
“We have been hiding,” Itu said. “For a hundred years, our cities burned, and our people were killed, by a race of fanatical beings who believed our devotion to the Siblings to be blasphemous. The Eav’oq have always been a peaceful people, we do not, will not end sentient life. We could only turn to our trust in the Siblings for comfort and guidance…and They sent us a vision, and told us to go away from the sight of these beings.”
“So, you’ve been in…subspace?” Facity asked.
“Of a kind,” Itu said. “Folded space, undiluted space. We had been experimenting with such tra
nsformations, physically and spiritually. We built this city, our new capital, in a fold of this space to save it from destruction—and the Siblings showed us that we could save ourselves if we went to our city, if we could manage a perfect unity of idea to remain with it.”
Itu gestured back at the great chamber, at all the hunched figures behind the glass. “We achieved it, but it was difficult, and not something any of us could wake from on our own. We have been together with the same vision for so long, it may take many days for some of them to let it go.”
So they left out an alarm crystal to wake them up, Dez thought, amazed. Tosk had found it, and it had guided him to Opaka, somehow….
“We set out a number of keys, that would tune the finder to the power of res, spiritual energy,” Itu explained. “Of a kind similar to ours. In each one there was also a request for aid, and an understanding of the Siblings’ gift, the era stones.”
“The stones are of my planet,” Opaka said.
“Prophets and Siblings,” Itu said happily.
“And these era stones just…tore you out of subspace, when we touched them?” Dez asked.
Itu seemed amused. “I’m not sure how the gift works, but I believe that when you touched them, my eye itched. The unity was broken when I thought of relieving the itch.”
Amazing. Fifty thousand years of a meditational trance, broken by a need to scratch. It seemed the Siblings had a sense of humor, too.
“Are you aware that the space around this planet has moved?” Dez asked, drawing the stares of his crew. “That there’s been a…rotation of matter?”
“I am aware,” Itu said simply. “It is no concern. No life will have been harmed.”
But how, why? Before he could ask, Facity had jumped in.
“Where…We were in a cave,” Facity said. “What happened to it? What happened to the planet’s surface that we saw, before you appeared?”
