Give
The facility’s training arenas were not conducive to privacy. Each one was like a racquetball court with high walls and space to observe from above.
Tiv had to humor me when I suggested relocating, but the facility was massive. It wasn’t hard to find a quiet corner.
Nai’s cascade rippled out underfoot, watching to see if any ears were standing too close. Between the three of us Adepts, we could turn virtually anywhere into halfway decent conference room, complete with table and chairs.
“So…” Tiv said suspiciously, “just what are ‘psionics’?”
“That’s a lot more complicated of a question than you might realize,” I said.
“A new form of Adept creation,” Nai said. “…Probably. That’s oversimplifying things, but it’s going to be easier to just show you them in practice.”
“I made something that only exists in my mind,” I tried to explain. “Mental tools, machines, materialized with Adeptry, but only inside my mind. The first one I made is so complicated that I I’m still figuring out what it does, but I made more. Simpler creations anyone can use, if I share them.”
“I’ve learned how to make them too,” Nai said. “But I’m not sure how easily I can explain how. It’s…not an intuitive process.”
“And you want to consult another expert Adept on just what seems to be happening,” Tiv said.
“I mentioned to Nai about wanting to talk to someone in the Coalition about them further, because I want to get back to my homeworld, and while I like you guys, and trust you to keep me safe…” I trailed off.
“You also don’t expect us to make your needs the number one priority of the entire Coalition, I get it,” Tiv said. “You want to consult me on just how valuable these ‘psionics’ can be.”
“Oh no,” I laughed.
“He’s more than aware of how valuable they are,” Nai said.
“This is just another sales pitch,” I said.
“I get it,” Tiv drawled “Either the Coalition gets a little more active in helping you home, or you’ll withhold some of this new Adept knowledge?”
“You don’t sound very convinced,” I said, though not worriedly.
“I’m not,” Tiv snorted. “I’ve looked at the Korbanok data, and I’m fairly well informed about the Coalition’s knowledge of you. What you’re asking for would take a huge commitment from Admiral Laranta, and I just doubt that you have something that valuable to trade.”
“Tiv.” Unshaken, Nai met his gaze. “Believe me when I say, psionics are far more valuable than what he’s asking for.”
“…And that’s part of why you want to show me,” Tiv gathered. “Nai’s already convinced, but she knows you. In fact, it might even look like she was backing this to try and make up for that demotion.”
“That’s one way of looking at it,” I said. “But the other is a lot simpler. I know how valuable psionics already are, not to mention how much more they can be. That’s true whether you believe it or not. The only question is how long it takes for everyone to concede that point and start giving me the help and resources I want.”
“So convince me,” the Century said with a grin.
“First, make us a clone,” Nai said, materializing a fourth chair. “There’s a few tests to do.”
Tiv complied, and one of his clones flickered into existence in the new chair. “Why do you want a clone?”
“Because psionics are tools in every way a knife is,” Nai said. “Useful, but dangerous.”
“So I’m to be a test subject?” the clone asked wryly.
“Yup,” I said, and, without warning, dumped a basic set of psionic tools into the clone’s consciousness.
The clone’s mind was not identical to ordinary people’s. With people’s minds, there was some impassable gap surrounding each one. For Nai and I to trade psionic constructs, and even telepathic signals, we had to reach across, not one, but two gaps: the recipient’s and our own.
But Tiv’s clones eliminated half of that problem. Whatever they were made with, whatever the mechanism behind their consciousness, it didn’t suffer the same psionic isolation real minds did.
It was easy as pie to shove psionics, even relatively complex ones, into the clone.
Things like the fully assembled radar were still probably too much to try all at once, but the telepathic radio slid into place perfectly and unlike when I’d given it to Nai’s mind, I could more easily observe what happened as the clone’s mind processed what it had just been given.
There was a physical reaction in the clone.
The copy of Tiv went still as ice for a moment, eyes locked on something only they could see.
“Dust and death,” the clone whispered in awe.
The real Tiv looked concerned at his clone’s reaction.
The clone flinched, picking up the sound but not responding.
The clone didn’t comply, but still flinched in time with the words. It almost seemed like receiving psionic signals was physically painful for the clone…which it very well could be. It didn’t have the same brain structure—I wasn’t sure it had a brain at all.
“I think the clone is reacting badly to the signal intensity.”
“Then dial it back,” she scoffed.
I did, trying to reduce the strength of my broadcast to a whisper.
“That’s a little better,” the clone reported, “but I have no clue what’s supposed to be happening.”
<…Qualia?> Nai guessed.
“Then this part’s on you,” I said. “I can help with execution, but you’re going to have a better time modulating for Farnata sensation and perspective.”
Tiv stared at the two of us like we were insane, and his clone looked to follow our conversation slightly better.
I’d wanted to try and wow the Coalition leaders I showed psionics to; quickly enabling telepathy and showing it off in seconds made for quite an impact. But in this case we were going to have to move a bit slower.
Maybe I could devise some sort of psionic starter kit. A more comprehensive set of tools than just the basic three perception, storage, and manipulation tools. Plus some built-in instructions on how to use them. Maybe even a few self-executing demos…
Later.
It took Nai a few minutes of random adjustments before the sounds we broadcast at Tiv became intelligible.
The problem wasn’t unexpected. People’s perceptions were all subtly different, and unless the transceivers were prepared to adapt to each user’s senses, they would only deliver static.
The clone raised a hand, confirming our most recent modifications had been in the right direction.
“Nice!” I said.
“More work to be done,” Nai said. “But it’ll do for now.”
“What in the void are you talking about?” real-Tiv asked.
“It’s…sound,” clone-Tiv said slowly. He could hardly believe it himself.
“I don’t know how…” the clone started. “”
He trailed off as his mind’s grip tightened around the psionic radio.
Dang it, but I was good. Even when I’d first made the idea with Nai, we’d known they needed to be intuitive. But there was a huge difference between knowing that, and knowing how to pull it off.
<…That is wild!> the clone said, sporting a grin.
“Yeah it is,” I said.
The clone sent me something and I grinned.
“You…hate vinsta matha, ” I told Tiv, getting the juicy gossip in real time. “For shame. You’ve been lying to poor Tor every time she cooks it…”
Real-Tiv’s eyes widened in alarm.
“How did you…?!”
“He told me,” I pointed at the clone. “I don’t know who Tor is, or what the food is.”
“
“
“
“
Tiv nodded. “I accept the risks. Besides, if anything goes wrong, I’m sure our Warlock here won’t stop to fix me.”
Nai chuckled, but proceeded, forming a copy of our beta-version Farnata transceiver.
<[Boom]!> I said, <[Telepathy!] Tell me this isn’t impressive.>
You could see the shock play out across Tiv’s face as the words filtered into his mind in recognizable form.
Nai said.
·····
Tiv turned out to take to psionics swimmingly.
he said.
Tiv mused.
Tiv laughed aloud.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Tiv had taken ten tries before he’d successfully passed even a rudimentary psionic construct to his clone. Passing it back had been even harder.
At that same moment, Tiv’s clone flicked away.
It was bizarre to watch the entity, pseudo-flesh, clothes, and all dissolve into nothing.
But even stranger was what it left behind.
Because for a few moments afterward, something fell from where the clone sat.
Totally invisible, completely abstract, maybe it didn’t even truly ‘fall’. But dissolve with the clone it did not.
One psionic transceiver and basic set of tools hung in quasi-nonexistence for a brief moment. Nai and I both saw it. Not with our eyes, but all the same we saw the clone’s psionics remain. Too new, Tiv didn’t notice what caught our attention.
A moment later, I lost sight of the tool. It slipped, somehow, out of my perception.
But it hadn’t dissolved. Did it have some abstract physical form? Had it just gotten lost in front of our eyes, like dumping water into the sea?
“
She nodded distractedly, her mind working a million miles an hour.
Tiv and I both perked up at that.
“Alright, Tiv knows theory better than I do, so bear with me,” she said, switching to her more familiar mode of communication. “The three broad categories of Adept creations: indelible constructs are ‘anchored’ in preexisting matter to circumvent the massive energy costs of comprehensively creating nuclear matter, but aside from that their characteristic is time based.”
“Indelible creations technically aren’t permanent,” Tiv followed “Anchoring the material in preexisting matter just gives it a lifespan longer than the projected lifespan of the universe.”
“Yes, but functionally speaking,” Nai said. “Indelible creations are made to persist for an indefinitely long period of time, and momentary creations are made to persist for a definite period of time.
“And acute creations persist for an indefinitely short period of time,” she said. “Very almost zero time, in fact.”
She looked at the two of us expectantly, trying to prompt an answer from us.
“What’s the natural extension of that framework?” Nai asked, looking at me specifically. “Two forms with indefinite periods, but only one form with a definite period of time?”
Wait…if Nai was looking at the period of time creations persisted…wasn’t that exactly something that had tripped her up before she’d experienced them firsthand?
A month ago, I’d experienced a more direct connection to her mind, and now it felt like that exposure indicated the direction of her thoughts now.
She and Tasser had both said, if I wasn’t ‘materializing’ something, then it wasn’t Adeptry.
But theoretical primitive Adepts could absolutely have created something to interact significantly with electricity without fully understanding what they’d created, even if their creation was functionally indistinguishable from a real material.
So, in theory, if there was some form of interaction our combined civilizations hadn’t discovered yet, it wasn’t out of the question to think Adeptry would let someone stumble onto it by accident.
And so, Nai was examining the period of time Adept constructs persisted for:
Indelible constructs: indefinitely long.
Momentary constructs: definite non-zero amount of time.
Acute constructs: Indefinitely short…
Almost no time at all.
“So…what if you ‘materialized’ something…for exactly zero time?” I asked, grasping Nai’s direction.
“What?” Tiv snorted. “That makes no sense. You can’t have something exist for zero time and still have it, well, you know… exist…”
But the Century trailed off as he followed his own objection’s train of thought.
“Psionics don’t ‘exist’, in the typical sense, I mean,” I grinned. “Nai that’s brilliant. You could be totally right!? Does that mean they don’t interact with time? How does that even work?”
“I’m not sure that’s the best way to word it,” she said. “Because psionics do decay. Whatever the relationship between psionics and Adeptry, my limits to Adept precision seem to carry over to my psionics. I can tell where my psionic pieces are wearing out, and I can tell the difference when I do touch-ups to your work, Caleb.”
“Even if psionics don’t interact with time, we still do,” I hazarded. “Maybe the constructs eventually fail because the person accessing them is moving forward in time? Away from the moment the psionics were made?”
Nai tried to follow my logic, but shook her head. “I think you’re getting hung up on the interaction—or noninteraction—with time,” she said. “I think it would be more accurate to say that psionics might only interact with information. Time doesn’t need to come into it.”
“What does it meant to interact with information?” I asked. “We encode information in light or carve it into paper. Everything—”
“Everything interacts with information,” Nai agreed. “But what if psionics have super limited interaction with everything else?”
“Hang on, stop, slow down,” Tiv protested. “I’m still hung up on how it interacts with anything while also not existing.”
“No, they exist,” I disagreed. “That’s the whole brilliance of Nai’s idea.”
“Psionics do exist,” Nai reaffirmed. “They might even have other properties of normal matter, like volume, or shape, or maybe even mass. They simply do so for zero time. They are expressed as ‘matter’ for zero time. Every other form of matter presents for some non-zero amount of time.”
“I think that explains why they’re so easy to use,” I said. “If indelible creations cheat the ruinous energy costs of making something persist forever, then maybe psionics do the reverse? They deal with infinitely close to zero energy. I can get tired using Adeptry, there’s physical strain in using them. But I can work on psionics, literally with a thought.”
Nai’s eyes widened a bit. “Diradira… Tiv, this might be progress on the interface problem.”
For the umpteenth time today, Tiv’s eyes widened as he realized another consequence of psionics. “You’re right! Oh, we’re going to be famous…”
Nai rankled at that.
“Interface?” I asked.
“It’s just a catch-all for how no one knows how Adeptry functions.”
“Help me out,” I demanded the two of them. “That doesn’t make any sense. How do you not know how Adeptry functions?”
“The interface problem is an old Adept quandary,” Nai said, “but it’s pretty simple if you ignore everything we just talked about. Caleb, ask yourself, how do you control your Adept powers?”
My brain was getting whiplash from this, but…the most intuitive answer for me…
“Intuition and Psionics,” I said simply. “I mean, I don’t have to use psionics, but they make it way easier. Like, if I want to create a quarterstaff, I could just imagine a new one each time, or I could just resort to…well, it’s sort of like a psionic backup in my head. I just create the same quarterstaff each time according to the…well, it’s kinda like a [template]. I do the same thing when I recreate a page of the journal—”
Nai waved her hands trying to cut me off. Tiv was stifling laughter.
“He stumbled into iterative design?” he laughed. “And by the sounds of it, his psionic version is actually superior to the real thing!”
“Iterative des—” I started. Nai had mentioned that long ago.
“Ignore him, we’ll cover it later,” she cut me off. “Take a step back, put yourself in another Adept’s very non-psionic position, and ask yourself: how do Adepts control their powers?”
“Well…when you create something…it usually follows intentions, right?”
Nai nodded.
“But how?” she asked. “How does some quirk of physics follow something like the individual intentions of a given Adept?”
“I…have no clue,” I said.
“Neither does anyone else,” Tiv said. “After the Vorak First Contact happened and we learned that Farnata weren’t the only Adepts in the cosmos, there were a huge number of medical experiments among both species trying to determine what made Adepts adept.”
“But, since no one still knows,” I guessed, “they didn’t find anything.”
Tiv nodded. “The mechanism is completely opaque. No one knows for sure. It’s not some extra gland in the brain, it’s not some odd gene expression, it’s not anything that anyone has been able to theorize. To this day, no one knows exactly how Adepts interface with their abilities, only that we can. Plenty of theories and related interactions, but no real explanation.”
“Psionics aren’t just going to solve every part of the puzzle, probably not more than one-percent,” Nai said. “But fact is, when we’ve had practically zero progress forever, one-percent is a massive leap forward!”
“It seems like you’d also have to study consciousness,” I said. “If Adeptry—and psionics too—are connected to thought, then somewhere, shouldn’t there be something physical tied to…one of those? Somehow?”
“And congratulations, this conversation is officially drifting toward mechanical cosmic philosophy,” Tiv said.
“Even if you ignore the philosophy for now, there’s still plenty to dissect,” Nai said. “The relationship between biological anatomy and consciousness isn’t very well understood either. There are still a few steps before we get to ‘does free will contradict mechanistic physics’.”
“Boo, you’re no fun,” Tiv said.
“Biology does raise an interesting point though,” I said. “I’ve run into a few Vorak who had extremely rudimentary constructs that vaguely resembled psionics.”
“How rudimentary?” Tiv asked.
“Hard to say,” I said. “I didn’t have much opportunity to look, and both of the people who I saw them in are dead now. If I had to guess though, theirs felt…organic. Unintentional, maybe even subconscious. It was like they were grown in their minds, whereas psionics are definitely made, not grown.”
“Do you know anything about the Adepts you glimpsed these ‘primitive’ psionics in?”
“Sendin Marfek and Vather Mikram,” I said.
“Wait, ‘Vather’? As in that Prowler you slew on Archo?” Tiv asked Nai.
She nodded. “Caleb gave me a complex and powerful psionic perception tool before that operation. I got a look at what he saw too, but it’s hard to say exactly what it was for.”
“When I fought Vather,” I said, “His quasi-psionics felt similar to a cascade. I thought he might be using it to sense his surroundings in another way.”
“The Archo report said you weren’t anywhere near Vather,” Tiv frowned.
“I fought him a few days earlier on Yawhere, at the Green Complex,” I said.
“Well good on you,” he smiled. “I’ve heard a nasty story or two about him. Surviving him is an accomplishment.”
“I’ve found Caleb thrives under pressure,” Nai said. “He fought two unknown Adepts to a definitive win on Archo.”
“Wait, wasn’t one of them the Human that’s comatose here?” Tiv said.
“Yes,” I said.
“…Ah,” Tiv grimaced. “My apologies.”
“I need to be able to defend myself better than that,” I said. “Neither Nora nor Halax were that practiced in Adept combat.”
“The Vorak,” Nai said, “they were Red Sails?”
“Sure seemed that way,” I said. “Why?
“Vorak fleet Adepts always have at least some combat training,” Tiv said. “Part of their combat doctrine is to utilize standardized Adept techniques in the field.”
“Which goes to my point,” Nai said. “Given that you held your own decently against Tiv today, that’s twice now that you’ve performed unexpectedly well against superior combatants. We know there’s been some psionic exchange between us. What if that includes skills or instincts?”
“You think I’ve picked up some of your combat skills?”
“Maybe,” Nai said. “You’re the one with the mega-construct. Could it do something like that?”
That was a good question.
“I have absolutely no clue,” I lied. Only slightly. I had a faint clue; I just didn’t want to follow the implications.
“I have little doubt psionics could revolutionize communication in every field,” Tiv said. “Imparting skills doesn’t seem like a large leap from imparting sounds. Teaching will never be the same again.”
“So does that mean you’re convinced now?” I asked.
Tiv nodded.
“This could…yes. In exchange for psionics, I doubt you could ask for anything too steep.”
“Will you say that to Laranta?” I asked.
“I…yes, I would,” he said, oddly reticent.
“I want something in writing,” I said. “Something binding.”
“You wouldn’t be the first Adept to do contract work for the Coalition,” Nai said. “An old Adept from my youth school helps manufacture half the medical supplies above Paris. You’ll get your agreement. Just focus on planning how you’re going to teach people.”
Oh rats. I wasn’t qualified to be a teacher. I barely knew anything about what I was talking about. But I’d been on the student side of that relationship for months, hadn’t I?
“…Oh no, I’m going to be in Tasser’s shoes,” I realized.