A Collision In Time

Yesterday is but today’s memory, tomorrow is today’s dream.

– Kahlil Gibran

They entered the Grand Cathedral together. High above them, a magnificent dome glowed sky blue, interrupted by clouds that lazily drifted beneath it. Humid, lavender-scented air circulated through the enormous space. They walked slowly, their footsteps echoing in the chamber, the sound dampened as they approached the gardens. In the distance, a worker manicured white sand beside a pond. They saw no one else, though the cathedral stretched for kilometers so it was difficult to know if they were by themselves. Tension sparked between the two. Their faces were tightly drawn, their muscles tense. One of the men pointed toward two ornate chairs that glistened with precious metals. The other followed but hesitated before sitting down.

“Ah, I see you arranged for wine,” said Asmodi.

“Indeed; please help yourself,” replied Arion. “I could use some myself.”

Asmodi shifted in his chair and drank a generous portion of wine. His mouth tightened. “Arion, I grow impatient and weary.”

Arion rolled his eyes. “Congress was quite clear. We have been over this again and again. Your actions have consequences. You cannot overturn laws that even gods must follow. You know the consequences, and you are not smarter than the rules.”

“We are hardly gods.”

“In the eyes of others we—”

“Congress didn’t even pretend to listen to me, Arion. You did not support me.”

“Not this time, not again. Congress considered wisely. They made the right decision. I am sorry.”

The blue sky within the overhead dome transformed and clouds began to build. Dark birds with wingspans meters wide flew overhead, and the songbirds’ cheerful melodies faltered.

“Congress is afraid. They decide based on fear. They are unable to act boldly.” Asmodi finished his wine and refilled his goblet. He slammed the pitcher back onto the table. The thud echoed through the cathedral.

In the dome above, thunderclouds formed on the edges of the horizons. The leaves in the garden rustled as the breeze intensified.

Arion shook his head. “Your ideas are contrary to the ethics we’ve embraced for millennia. Our founders were clear: we are to time-engineer emerging civilizations to harmony and nothing more. Embrace your culture, Asmodi. I am afraid your rebellious nature clouded your judgement. Our practices require subtlety, not brute force.”

“No. My plan was logical and our tired approach is failing.”

Arion interrupted. “You rushed in and ignored the science of time manipulation. Your actions destroyed billions of sentient lives. There is no appetite in Congress for a grand experiment. We will continue our targeted and gentle approach.”

The dome above darkened. Bolts of lightning streaked across it and thunder cracked in the distance.

“The room darkens, Asmodi.” Arion took a last sip of wine and placed the empty goblet on the gilded table in front of him. “Please destroy your analysis as requested.”

Asmodi ignored the comment.

Arion’s lips tightened. “You crave power; that is the real issue.”

Asmodi grabbed the pitcher of wine and poured more into his goblet. It flowed over the top, spilled over the table, and stained the floor.

Arion repeated, “Did you destroy the analysis?”

“Your jealousy makes me weary.” Asmodi unfolded his wings and launched upward, soaring toward the dome before shifting and flying between the marble pillars. He disappeared from view.

Arion shook his head and spoke to a bird that had come to rest on his arm. “Trouble comes. Find the analysis quickly before he hides it.”

The bird flew from his arm, transforming as it did. A gray-haired woman stood before him. She frowned. “He is becoming dangerous, Arion. Be careful. He seeks power—anywhere, it seems. By any means necessary, it seems.”

“Yes. I think I underestimated him. The data?”

“He acted to secure and hide it, but I did recover a portion, which I just transmitted to you.”

Arion’s eyes focused ahead as he concentrated. “Pachamama? Where is that?”

She considered the incoming analysis. “Yes, I remember…it was a planet populated by refugees fleeing from their ancient home world. This happened a long time ago. There are considerable quantum time-wave fluctuations that surround a young woman called Dov Sabastien. She is an inflection point. She will need guidance. Your guidance, Arion.”

Arion nodded. “Thank you. You may leave. Please destroy this data.”

She transformed back into a songbird and flew off.

In a flash of light, he too disappeared.

A planet with three moons glowed in the night sky in the dome.