by Jared Teer
Suddenly, a large sphere of stone appeared before them, floating high in the air. Hughes dropped into a wide stance and thrust his arm toward the boulder with his fingers splayed.
“Solar canon!” Hughes shouted and a basketball-sized orb of yellow plasma exploded from before his palm toward the stone. The ball smashed into the boulder and bored into it. Yellow light shone from within the rock through the hole where the ball of plasma crashed, and then many rays of light began to shine through cracks forming in its surface. The boulder then exploded in a flash of light, showering Darion and Hughes in debris.
“Nice,” said Darion, with his arms shielding his face.
“Yeah,” said Hughes with a smile, not affected by the hail of debris.
Darion put his arms down and looked at Hughes.
“Hughes,” he said, “you gotta teach me how to do that!”
“There’s a process, Darion,” said Hughes. “Creative Applications, then Destructive.”
“I know,” said Darion, “but that move is tight. Solar canon!”
“Indeed,” said Hughes. “I guess we can incorporate the solar canon into a lesson on creation. How about creating some targets, Darion? Concentrate. Just like the sky. Your thoughts are reality, reality is your thoughts.”
Darion concentrated and a large boulder materialized on the ground in the distance in front of them.
“Good,” said Hughes. “More! Create something with properties, like floating. Create a stone, but think of it as hovering in midair—defying gravity.”
Darion concentrated and a second large boulder appeared a good distance above the first, hovering in midair. It floated for a moment, but came crashing down to the ground next to the other.
“You concentrated on a boulder in midair,” said Hughes, “but not on it sustaining itself there. Give it a mission. Will it to float.”
Darion willed a third boulder to appear high above the first, and maintained its position.
“Good,” said Hughes. “Delegation is an essential creative skill. Delegating properties to created objects can have many applications. With practice, you can create objects, even life forms, with a number of behaviors. Delegation can also have many combat applications. You can create a decoy of yourself. It won’t have sentience, but you can delegate to it behaviors that resemble intelligence.”
“Delegation is the trick to the solar canon as well,” Hughes continued. “Think of it not as simply creating a stationary ball of plasma, but bringing forth a ball of plasma at a great speed. Delegate forward momentum to the ball, which it will follow upon materializing. A good method for visualizing this is to imagine one’s arm as a canon, with the plasma exploding from it. Hence, the solar canon.”
Darion nodded his head and extended his arm toward the first boulder with his fingers spread as Hughes had done.
“The ball is already traveling at a great speed,” said Hughes. “When it appears, it will continue to travel at that great speed.”
Darion closed his eyes and then suddenly dropped his arm.
“What happened?” asked Hughes.
“Uh, do I have to shout ‘solar canon’?” asked Darion.
Hughes laughed. “It tends to help, I think,” he said. “Words are powerful. The universe came into being with the words of the Creator. Words are thoughts made manifest, and therefore, words can reinforce your thoughts. You don’t have to say it, but I think saying the words helps to concentrate your efforts.”
Darion nodded and again extended his arm toward the boulder.
“Solar canon!” he shouted, and the ball of plasma materialized before his palm and moved slowly toward the boulder.
Darion put his arm down and looked at Hughes and then back at the lethargic plasma ball.
Hughes folded his arms and nodded his head while looking at the ball.
“It’s … moving kinda slow,” said Darion.
“Yeah,” said Hughes. “You delegated motion nicely though. More energy next time, that’s all.”
Darion nodded his head as the plasma ball continued to slowly make its way to the boulder. About a minute later, the ball of plasma connected with the boulder and began to burn through it.
“Hmph, I was expecting it to explode on impact,” said Darion.
“Million-degree plasma tends to burn through whatever it touches,” said Hughes. “It will explode on contact when it encounters a resistant force, such as another transphysical being. If you want it to explode, will it so.”
The plasma ball was still boring slowly into the face of the boulder when Darion willed it to explode. The detonation showered them in debris and sent a mushroom cloud high into the air.
“Sweet,” said Darion behind his shielding arms.
“What are you doing?” asked Hughes. “Are you worried about a little debris getting in your eyes, or putting out your eyes?”
Darion lowered his arms and looked questioningly at Hughes.
Hughes’s eyes began to glow with a golden flame and he looked up toward the falling debris. Golden rays of light shot from Hughes’s eyes, disintegrating every falling chunk of debris they met.
“Hughes,” said Darion, “you gotta teach me how to do that!”
Hughes and Darion spent a few more hours in the training room. Darion learned how to shoot searing rays of light from his eyes and developed a proper solar canon. He worked on creating a number of basic elements—vegetation, water, fire, and stones—and was also introduced to creating animated beings with delegated behaviors, producing a duplicate of himself and causing it to walk.
At the completion of the day’s training, Darion willed the training room back to the white nothingness and he and Hughes exited through the arched door.
Hughes patted Darion on the back. “That was a good first session, Darion,” he said. “It’s all about getting you acquainted with what you can do with the Essence, and getting you to visualize and believe.”
“Man, creating a double of myself was crazy!” said Darion. “I can’t wait to practice some more. You sure you don’t want to go back?”
“That’s good for today,” said Hughes. “I think you’ve learned enough to wrap your mind around until the next session. Meditate, and envision further possibilities and innovations.”
CHAPTER 5
Oneiric Gamers
They made their way to the teleportal clearing and were about to step into it when a call came from behind.
“Wait! Wait!” shouted a young man running in their direction. Hughes instantly recognized the young man as a Supernal by his baby face and jovial expression—not to mention his white robes trimmed in blue with a wide, blue metallic waistband, the colors of the Hall of Creation.
“Mr. Hughes, Mr. Elmore!” called the Supernal. The young man stood about six-foot-three and was lean, but toned. His sandy blonde hair was tapered on the sides and spiked messily on the top. His green eyes were wide with enthusiasm. “I’ve been waiting for you guys. My name is Sky, Sky Conner. I’m a student here at the academy.”
He vigorously shook Darion and Hughes’s hands.
“Sky Conner?” said Hughes. “Clay Conner’s little brother?”
“Yes, sir,” said Sky.
Hughes looked to Darion. “Clay Conner is the head master of the Hall of Might.”
“Yeah,” said Sky. “My brother is one of the strongest fighters in the universe. Our dad was big into martial arts when he lived on earth so we were introduced to physical combat early. My little brother is pretty good too. He’s actually helping out as one of the designated sparring partners this year.”
“That’s cool, man,” said Darion.
“Are you looking forward to the Hall of Might?” Hughes asked Sky.
“Kinda, sir,” answered Sky. “I’m okay, but I’m not my brother. Pretty big shoes to fill, ya know. I’m more into metaphysical applications myself.”
Hughes nodded.
“Uh … that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, sir,” said Sky. “M
aster Jones said that you’re a great warrior, which is huge coming from someone like Master Jones.” Hughes smiled. “So … ” continued Sky, “I was wondering if you have any free time, uh … could I maybe, train with you guys, get some pointers?”
“No,” Hughes replied pointedly.
Sky was taken aback. So was Darion.
“Uh … okay sir. Thanks,” said Sky, and he began to turn.
“I am capable of kidding around,” smiled Hughes. “Why does everyone take me so seriously? Sure, kid, I can show you some things.”
“Sweet,” exclaimed Sky. “Thank you, sir.”
“Hmm … better yet, a true test of one’s grasp of knowledge is the ability to convey it to another, to teach,” said Hughes. “Darion, we’ll train, after which you can show Sky here what you’ve learned in what we call Oneiric Gaming—gaming in which participants can set up combat scenarios with their own thoughts.”
“Cool,” said Darion.
“Sounds good,” said Sky. “I have a training Bot too. He’s made of neutronium.”
“Neutronium?” asked Darion.
“An exceptionally resilient alloy made of synthesized neutron star crust,” said Hughes. “Good for combat training Bots.”
“Where are you guys headed now, Mr. Hughes?” asked Sky.
“Please, call me Hughes or Joseph.”
Sky nodded. “Are you guys about to eat?” he asked.
“I was planning on tracking down Master Jones and doing some catching up,” said Hughes. “Did you want to get a bite, Darion?”
“That’s cool with me,” said Darion.
“Okay,” said Hughes. “You two go grab something to eat, and I’ll see you in the quarters later, Darion.”
“Thanks again, Hughes,” said Sky.
“No problem, Sky,” said Hughes. “See you tomorrow.”
Hughes bid them good-bye and stepped into the teleportal. “Master Jones’s office,” he said and dematerialized.
Sky stood there smiling at Darion.
“So, we’re training partners,” said Darion.
“I’m stoked, man,” said Sky.
They stepped into the teleportal.
“Dining hall,” said Sky, and they dematerialized and appeared in the circular teleportal on the dining level.
The cafeteria was of the grandeur Darion was coming to expect of his new surroundings, easily accommodating the multitude. There were long lines awaiting made-to-order entrees served by one Ascended cook wielding an army of artificially intelligent assistants and bussing staff. Darion noticed that many of the diners wore the white and blue uniform of the Hall of Creation, while others were attired in robes of different color combinations—from other halls, he assumed.
Darion and Sky made their way to an extensive buffet line stocked with dishes that transcended time and civilizations. Fueled by the Essence, the metabolisms of the transphysical allowed them to consume large quantities of food with no ill effects. Sky took a whole serving pan of beef stroganoff without a second thought; Darion took a large pizza for himself. They chose to eat in one of the many smaller dining rooms off the main dining hall, the better for conversation.
“What’s up with the different color uniforms?” Darion asked after they had sat down to eat.
“Every hall has its own colors,” Sky replied. “White and blue is the Hall of Creation. Black and red is the Hall of Destruction. White and gold is the Hall of Might. And grey and white is the Hall of Conception.”
“How do you like the Halls of Glory?” Darion asked the young Supernal.
“It’s awesome, man. I imagine you’re having a lot of fun learning new techniques and stuff too, right?!” Darion nodded as he gulped down a bite of pizza. “So, what do you think of Ascended life?” Sky continued.
“It’s better than anything I could have imagined,” said Darion.
“I bet,” said Sky. “By the way, I’d like to say that I appreciate your service.”
“My service in Iraq? Thanks,” said Darion.
“Well, that too, but I mean your service on earth, and going through the trials and tribulations that entails.”
“Thanks,” Darion said after swallowing some pizza.
“You’re gonna love Oneiric Gaming, man,” said Sky. “It incorporates Creative Applications, as well as scenario simulation—whatever a person can envision becomes real. Man, we play in Superbowls, fight in death matches in the Kumite, defend the galaxy from aliens, Wild West shootouts … It’s really fun.
“I’ll have to show you how we converge on the Oneiric Plane, though … So, are you excited about training?”
“Yeah man,” Darion answered. “It’s probably no big deal to you, but these powers, the stuff I can do with this new body, it’s crazy. I can throw fireballs, man!”
“That star … ball … thing that Hughes showed us was pretty tight. It’s gonna be cool to see it in action. We can do some Oneiric Gaming once we’re done here. Me, you, and my roommate. Remind me to get him a to-go plate. He’s watching Arachnid Boy 3. My Bot Spark is recording it. It doesn’t come out until next week on earth, but inter-dimensional TV always gets the movies first. We love the cheesy special effects.”
“Cheesy?” Darion asked, surprised. “Arachnid Boy 3 is supposed to have revolutionary CGI.”
“Tell me if you still think Hollywood graphics are revolutionary after some Oneiric Gaming,” said Sky.
“I was wondering about the technology here,” said Darion. “You said you had a training Bot. What can it do?”
Sky swallowed a big mouthful of stroganoff before replying. “My Bot, Spark, has all kinds of uses. He can be taken into the Oneiric Plane if he’s in contact with a person. He can be a sparring partner, an ally, and even serve as a vessel for transphysical acquisition, but not Oneiric connection.”
“Oneiric connection, like on the Oneiric Plane?” asked Darion.
“Yep,” said Sky. “Oneiric connection is when you meet up with a specific individual on the Oneiric Plane. Like, if someone is dreaming, you can go into their dream. Bots don’t dream so you can’t practice Oneiric connection on them.”
“Interesting” said Darion. “What is transphysical acquisition about?”
“You’re familiar with possession, right? Well, it’s like that, but without all the green puke.”
“Why would anyone in the Host want to possess someone?”
Sky held up his index finger, signaling to Darion to wait a second while he swallowed another big mouthful, and then responded. “It’s a pretty useful skill. There’s nothing sinister about it. Sometimes members of the Host possess, or transphysically acquire, for instance, a family pet so they can keep an eye on someone they’re protecting.”
“Can you show me how—Oneiric connection and transphysical acquisition?” Darion asked.
“Yep, yep,” said Sky. “It’s pretty simple, really. I’ll show you after we eat.”
“Good … ” said Darion. Very good, he said to himself.
They finished eating and took the teleportal and materialized in the living area of a room similar to Darion’s, but with a collage of posters on the walls of various horror and action movie icons and comic book characters.
“What uuup,” said one of the two individuals sitting on the couch, a lean young man of Korean descent with spiked, jet black hair with his back to them, watching television programming projected wide on the wall.
“Today on the Terry Miller Show,” said the program announcer, “recently Ascended children who are a burden to their parents.”
A woman on the program spoke, “Terry, my son was seventy- three when he ascended. Ever since then, he’s been under me like a little kid, like when he was in grade school or something. I have a life, Terry. He wants me to cook. He lies around my house. He thinks I’m his servant or something. That’s what Bots are for, Terry.”
A man replied, “Yeah, I lay around my momma’s house. So? I was in a nursing home when I died, Terry. I got used to people
taking care of me. She’s my momma. She should be happy to have me around.”
“This story and more, today on the Terry Miller Show!”
“What’s up, Ray,” said Sky.
“What is up, Master Sky,” said the other individual on the couch, a Bot with a polished, black exterior with a wide ovular head.
“What’s up,” said Sky. “It’s a contraction, okay. Geez, Spark!”
Ray and Spark rose and walked over to Darion and Sky.
“Darion, this is my roommate, Ray Park.”
“What up, man,” said Ray, who was wearing a T-shirt and pajama bottoms.
“Chillin’, man,” said Darion.
“This is the Bot I was telling you about,” said Sky, gesturing toward the gold and black Bot. Spark’s polished black body was articulated with golden joints, his limbs cylindrical and segmented like metal oil spouts. He had an ovular head one foot across, with sunken circular eyes that shone with a green light. “Spark, this is Darion. Darion, Spark.”
“Nice to meet you, Master Darion,” Spark said with a slight bow, his electronic words reverberating a low hum.
“Nice to meet you,” said Darion.
“You just ascended?” asked Ray.
“September first,” said Darion.
“That’s fast,” said Ray. “And you’re already training?”
“Yeah, man,” said Darion. “I’m trying to learn as much as I can.”
The four sat down, Darion and Sky on the couch, Ray on the recliner on its left, Spark on the one to the right.
“How was Arachnid Boy 3?” asked Sky.
“Hilariously bad,” said Ray. “It seems like Hollywood script writers are incapable of flipping through a comic before making a movie about the characters. They even got his arch-nemesis, the Exterminator, wrong. Not only did he not have his mask, but they replaced his white spandex full body suit—the one with the red X starting at his stomach and extending to each of his limbs—with a supposedly hip, white leather, three-piece suit with no X.”
