ISSUE 22: CORPORATE SPONSORS

I ventured out into that strange ship for a while. Anything to keep my mind off what happened. A nice basset hound followed me around. I know I should say Bardaxian but they look like our dogs so much that I forget. At one point that giant Typherian man with the gray irises held out his hand, “It’s alright. You are safe with us. My sister has already made accommodations on the Jupiter for you.” I know it wasn’t the corporation's fault. I legitimately have no living family. No demi powers to speak of. Not a Speaker like Mrs. Anna or able to invoke Light Shaman rites. Just plain old Mary Valcourt. Born and raised in the breadbasket of America.—Mary, formerly of the Highreach Colonial program

Mary is alright physically. Nyx was using her genetics as an experiment. It’s the mental aspect that we will be keeping an eye on. Watson hasn’t left her side since she arrived. It looks like all the old A51 team is going to stay on as well. Eliza is right, we are going to need more slots for the crew database at this rate. What’s next? Pink Elephants?!—Lorain Lanis

While I still had to be kept in the dark with some things, I had a better context for it now, which was felt throughout my crew and family. Di’axi even sent some Scholar philosophy texts and histories over. I got it into my head that if Unity had this baseline, I could turn the tables on it as well. Maybe even get it into a logic trap of sorts. The reality would be a bit different but as I write this memoir, I still have lingering aftershocks of the experience. Hard to put into words. Matarn and I understand each other in a way most do not.—Sleeping in Starlight, a memoir of the 22nd century

Project Freefall

Research Ring

June 10th, 2104

Ned Fletcher eyed the Void Walker materials with abject distaste. But got down to business. Seeing how these evil devices worked. His countrymen and Earth needed him. His mouth firm. He had seen the reports about Nyx. Using another’s baby like that? An ugly blight that would be cleansed and he was all too glad to assist. The eggheads were producing the counter nanites to the sleeper program. As he deconstructed the apparatus that the Void Walker witch used he knew instinctively how to counteract everything.

There had been days where he wondered how he could help. He couldn’t lift tall buildings or throw fireballs but with the way he and his family were protected 24/7, he belatedly realized just how vital his skill was. Just like in those old Captain Cosmos vids. Able to rebuild anything the Alliance needed. He hummed as he worked.

*****

Rear Admiral Lanis examined the readouts. Ned was working faster than anticipated. Plan Alarm Clock would be ready for Humanity and the Markav within the next 2 months. With the Matriarch’s help, the Litari would be close behind that. Bardax had no Sleepers. They were unassailable to Unity. Might explain why they only existed in a handful of Universes. She knew Eliza and the others had brought back more than just this but didn’t inquire further. Best to compartmentalize the risks. Her daughter entered.

Mary set aside all other considerations when she spied the look on Lorain’s face.

That mix of dread and yearning sending a spike of worry through the elder Lanis.

“You and Eliza aren’t fighting are you?!”

Lorain remained mute. Mary pulled her daughter into one of the comfy gel chairs. Then grabbed two cups of coffee. “Spill it kiddo.”

Things might have started out rough in her daughter’s early years but that type of fire branding was long behind them. She listened as Lorain talked. About the Ur-Stone and what her captain would face beyond the confines of Unity. One hour later she upgraded that coffee to a shot of tequila to calm her daughter’s nerves.

*****

Strixer Nix walked into the museum. His people had sent him to New Ashbury to scout around and see the disposition of the enemy. The Humans were a mix of naive and hopeful. A mixture he would gladly snuff out from the ground up. His disguise was standard. A brown-haired male human. Pale green eyes. Just enough physical presence to stand out a bit from the crowd. He was pretending to be an independent holo creator. Scouting out locations for his big breakout holo-vid. One big mural on the right of him read, “Ta’mathon’s Stand.” Thoth had failed there. He could see why.

These stupid humans had magic.

If the Artock could replicate that through assimilation. The possibilities would be quite boundless. No longer considered mere pirates or parasites. They would be a powerhouse to rival the All-Father! He stopped himself from glowering at a group of Markavs as they wandered past. The smallest of them exclaiming, “Grandmother! LOOK!” They were in awe of the Ta’mathon piece. Of course, they were. He mentally sneered. Pathetic things. They had needed the White Defender to revitalize their world. All that technology and they still needed mud monkeys to lift them to former glory.

He ambled forward. Taking holo recordings. Flashing his media pass when questioned.

He didn’t notice the two human men following him.

All humans appeared the same to Nix.

*****

Argus Paxton and Jonas had on “I’m a tourist!” getups. Loud Hawaiian shirts.

Khaki pants.

Flipflops!

Jonas even sported a large straw hat. They made all the appropriate noises as they followed Nix. Nothing could hide from either of them. Glaive trotted alongside. His cover plain. It said “Service Dog” in bold white letters. His black and tan fur brushed to a bright sheen. Paxton was good at playing the role of a blind man. While Eddie described things. Some medical odds and ends couldn’t cover everyone. Some rejected implants. Or had hereditary issues that still needed research.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

They knew a majority of the Artock fleet was parked in the Weave near Pluto. Various scout vessels monitoring Earth traffic. They knew because the Javelin fleet was shadowing the Artock’s every move. They were very overconfident because they had never seen anyone else with the same kind of tech. Paxton almost wished that the Markav Collective ships could make an appearance. But that would bring Set down upon them. Along with Unity. Since they were so old and powerful it would be akin to a lighthouse piercing the darkness.

With the Collective’s help, along with the hidden community of Emris’ charges, INet was supercharged. Instant and wherever Eliza and Dexter had cleansed things? Communication and data could be received and sent simultaneously. They could react in real-time across the distance. The Bardaxian Compact was interlinked into the Hyper INet array. Even now their fleets were moving to support Earth. Some in the FTL of real space. While their version of Javelins moved across the Weave.

He nodded to M’taris and Eliza as he passed them.

Nix wouldn’t get very far. They just wanted to know what the Artock targeted within the Museum. Paxton thought it would be the Cosmic Leyline but that wasn’t it. Something else called to the little tyrant.

*****

The Amarche flowed around me. Cataloging everything in sight. I monitored Nix by keying in on his heartbeats. Artock usually had a secondary heart implant for combat purposes. He had three. My grandmother walked beside me. Her expression attentive but she wasn’t paying attention to the people within the museum. She was studying me. I brought us over to an alcove. The din of voices faded. Nix’s triple system calm for now. I’d notify Paxton if anything changed.

“Grandma.” I let my mind wander.

“Yes?”

“Everyone else got to see that whole record right?”

She reached out to touch my cheek. “Yes. They saw what we were fighting for. The most optimal of outcomes for you.”

Memories of Avalon and the 42nd-century visitor came back to me. Vividly.

Everything around me grayed out. Except for grandmother and me.

M’taris moved in closer. Half ready to pull her firearm. When she saw me unconcerned she pulled her hand back out of her jacket. That same curious fellow in the flowing robes appeared. He bowed to grandmother. “Sorry to spring this on you both!” He handed me another message. My grandmother leaned in.

I know you are scared. Not for yourself. Mostly.

At the time I am writing this I haven’t speared Unity. Time travel is the oddest thing. The Weave allows it only under the most special of conditions. Ta’mathon’s orb is one of these avenues but so is the Ur-Stone. It houses Aether’s people but also those displaced throughout time. Because Unity tried to circumvent this law of the Multiverse.

The head Time Administrators of the 42nd have me in a room that pauses things. I only have the vaguest idea of how this century works. The Weave Speakers of this era insisted upon these letters. Even our memoir will be studied. Remember these words: Death is not the end. Let the Ur guide you. Matarn will give more insight later. Just like a certain white wizard. The Eliza you saw in that message was concerned for others just as much as you.

I know it's odd getting pep talks when you only have a minute piece of the puzzle.

But they finally showed me a sliver of the possibility of our future.

Words cannot describe it. You know we aren’t much of a poet. If anything Eddie would have some choice words. For Grandmother: I am deeply sorry I added to your burdens so early. Grandfather’s as well.

Grandma’s cheek rested against my shoulder. She squeezed my arm.

“No, we always asked too much of you, my dear.”

I read onward.

The road will be ever-winding.

Sometimes you will want to pull your hair out. Stick with it.

The path will bloom. The Sun will rise.

Strength has not abandoned Typha. No matter what kind of crazy impression the Houses give. They are not the real soul of the planet. Listen to C’alain. Remember what your Odessen mirror said. But wait until after your Typherian Naming rites. That’s when it will have the greatest impact.

M’taris glanced around. Color seeped back into the world and the letter was gone.

As if it had never existed.

I admitted, “That wasn’t the first time.”

She breathed in. Her eyes locked onto mine. “It won’t be the last either.”

She half hugged me. “That will be our secret eh?”

I stood up. My footsteps were lighter. So much in fact that grandma had to whisper, “You’re floating a smidge dear one.” I was half an inch off the floor and discreetly lowered myself as we passed that familiar mosaic. I pointed, “Did that involve…” Grandmother shook her head.

“No.” Her voice echoed within.

>>The Orb. Remember, there’s more than one way to interact in the realms between tick and tock! It was you and White though. The Ur is outside of Time. The Orb is commanded by it. And the Weave.<<

I had the impression that this subject was convoluted even for the greatest minds of our generation. Grandmother pulled me along. >>Indeed. No one truly understands the whole picture. It's why we have Weave Speakers and Light Shamans interperate the tea leaves.<<

I caught the kernel of unsaid concern.

Typha had the most to lose for the moment.

My head turned. Nix’s hearts were racing. I sent the signal to Paxton.

“Let’s go. The dance has begun.”

*****

Nix ran his palms across the glass. Here it was. The lost Artock gene splicer. Sitting in a mud monkey den of antiquity! The description stated they believed this to be a lost Mayan calculation device. Meant to signal the end of the world. It would indeed. He saw the old coded markings.

One of the first. Soaking in the magical energies of Earth this entire time.

How to acquire it though? He took more recon pictures.

No matter.

They’d fish it out from under the noses of everyone here.

He’d be the toast of the Armada.

He turned. Making his way outside the museum. They’d have to invade New Ashbury specifically. A good cover though: Planetary and System Invasion. All forces on deck. He kept this kernel of information to himself. Bet big! Win bigger!

*****

I met up with Paxton and Eddie as they stared at the Mayan artifact. The Armache chanted. Handing me a copy cloaked in dark matter. Uncle Paxton lit up a cigar. “Time to lay some plans!” I rose my gaze to the high ceiling of this place. Past the stone walls. Beyond the clouds. Watching the home fleet patrol the Solar System. We were actively helping the Ascendancy patrol various interstellar boarders. Keeping more Artock away from civilian population centers.

Humanity was ready.

An ancient voice registered, “The Sea calls me home. The Hanged will be whole.”

It was Matarn’s but frayed. Agitated.

Gruff Artock voices shouted for him to quiet down. They were debating on eating him when Nix’s father entered. I could tell by the heavier footfalls. Five bodies thudded to the deck, “No one touches this Empty Vessel. I want the Titans for myself. UNDERSTOOD!”

I would need to return to Howling’s Jungle.

Matarn would know what to do.

White’s three golden eyes filled my vision.

They must not control the Titans.

*****

Deep within Earth’s Weave gargantuan forms trembled.

Fixated on the sound bubbling up from the Highest reaches.

They awaited the call.