THE GALAXYMBION ODYSSEY

“Shut up, you pair of zillups; I’m trying to listen,” rasped Nimbledream, hunched over his console. It was a very faint message and plagued with a vast amount of static. “Notesounder, try enhancing by filter 7 then re-process. I need to know what this emergency transmission is telling us. Forestwatcher, any progress on long-range Sensormesh?”

“The emanation originates from Belva Quadrant, Sector 2. It is located not far from Galactic perimeter and appears to be from a small scout class vessel of some sort, broadcasting on a Galaxymbion fequency. Shall we just ignore it as bogus?”

“We make no decision until I know what its crew are broadcasting about,” Nimbledream commented, absent-mindedly. “I am certain that one voice speaks in Galaxymbion, the second voice clearly uses some other language.”

“If I may be so audacious as to guess the situation,” Forestwatcher interjected, “the signal is so weak only because it is not a Galaxymbion vessel. What would a fellow citizen be doing on a primitive vessel with such limited equipment? I urge caution, sir. The nearest Galaxymbion world is Belvandara and that is rather too distant for such a small, frail vessel to reach. I believe this is very likely a trap.”

“Overseer, I disagree with my noble colleague; this is definitely a distress signal. The fact that it is small and weak only confirms it as no threat to us. We should alter course to intercept and assist,” Notesounder added, making some further adjustments to the hovering illuminated oval that was his console’s communication interface. Its interior illuminations of blue and green sparks sharpened and formed a simple 3D lattice. “I believe I have isolated the message frequency and amplitude, sir.”

“Put it on general speakers; we must hear what they say.”

“This – Serendip – Shazandern gem prospector, vicinity Elvakay; - assist. Shazandern home-world has – destroyed. We require assistance from any Galaxymbion vessel – vicinity. I repeat, my name is - Taro, of Kolda-ra, currently aboard – Shazandern vessel Seren----- We -- sanctuary within – Galax---“

“Hold speakers. Notesounder, you look intrigued by this message. Tell us.”

“Overseer, colleagues, I know that voice. It belongs to Mirek Taro, who is a friend and indeed is he from Kolda-ra. We must help that vessel.”

“Wait a moment,” Forestwatcher chimed in. “Just because they got hold of part of a name you know and can simulate his voice, does not mean this is your friend. It only means that their trap is elaborate.”

“Well, clearly the decision rests with me. Notesounder, do you have any idea why the Belvandarans have not responded to them?”

“The signal is barely clear to us; Belvandara is a thousand times further away than we are.”

“Yet Belvandara has a planetary Sensormesh array; one of the best as I understand,” Forestwatcher protested. “And their star system is one of the largest known, with twenty-one planets, three of which are inhabited. And that is excluding the ones that the Belvandarans have established colonies on.”

“Well,” Nimbledream sighed, “since the two of you are absolutely no help whatsoever, I say we go and investigate. Navigator Fardreamer, please alter parabolic course around the Falda system and determine our most efficient trajectory for intercept course. Maximum velocity.”

Notesounder looked rather pleased with the Overseer’s decision. “Shall I send them word we are on our way?”

“Definitely not until we know exactly who ‘they’ are and what intentions they may have. Forestwatcher, bring all Hypermesh Defence Systems online and raise R.E.D shielding to DP5.”

“Yes, sir,” Forestwatcher acknowledged, now taking his turn to look pleased. “Clandestine approach?”

“No, we don’t want to frighten them or make them think we are belligerent. How long to intercept?”

“Point four three perchrons.”

“Good; sound general quarters, defence profile 5. I want everyone on Nightspear absolutely ready for any eventuality we may encounter. Inform Interworld Transplex and Interworld Security and Defence on Kolda-ra, Belvandara and of course Quereldene. I want the two of you to continue monitoring that message and all returning data from Sensormesh scans.”

Forestwatcher was even more pleased. And Notesounder was not yet displeased. Nimbledream was relieved.

To the right, the gas giant Falda, which Nightspear had been exploring for scientific research, fell away into the distance. Ahead space wavered and blanked out as this Seshori class interstellar cruiser took flight.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen, and lady – if that’s what you truly are,” Olrinky II stated emphatically. “We are not returning to a broken solar system and a dead world. You yourselves heard the captains of the Trion and the Vargon; the two heavy class cruisers assembling survivors in deep space. Our solar system is flooded with lethal ionisation, plasma and an indescribably horrible soup of radioactive particles. For goodness sake, that thing almost vaporised our star.”

“I understand, captain,” Panvostin argued, “I merely ask you, how can we just wander off to some Galaxymbion world and expect to find a new life? Will we forget our home, our families, our friends, so easily?”

“For once I agree with Panvostin,” Eleena chorused. “Why should we trust this Mirek character, or his Galaxymbion buddies? We know nothing of them, their ways, or their real motivations. They may simply want to eat us!”

“Ha! Eat us! Eat us, you say? Where were you born, you ludicrous harlot? It is well known that all Galaxymbion worlds are pacifist, vegetarian and entirely civilised. Think, woman, if you can. The only thing we could die from on a Galaxymbion world is homesickness, and their super advanced medics probably have a cure for that too.”

“There is an old saying amongst chemists, dear captain; if you add hydrochloric acid to sodium hydroxide you WILL get salt in water. We already have one of their kind on board and since meeting him we have lost our home, our gem and mineral income and apparently our minds, since he peeks at our thoughts whenever he wants. Now all we have is salt and water. Nice life.”

“The only reason you are so upset, Eleena, is that you already lost your virginity a century ago and now this handsome alien has got you all fired up and wanting him like he’s your first love,” Olrinky countered. Panvostin and the others chortled, the first time they had done so since hearing of their home-world’s destruction.

“Very funny. You twist your corpulent little brain too much, oh revered leader. Untie it and knot off,” was Eleena’s snappy retort. “And you can laugh, all of you; I do not relish living on a Galaxymbion planet for the rest of my life.”

“Of course not; they don’t run brothels. You would have absolutely nothing to do all day except watch your archaic, illegal videos. And that is my last word, on this matter. We have sent out a bilingual distress call on a Galaxymbion channel, and we will be rescued by them. End of story. What the other survivors wish to do is their own affair.”

“And masters have we none,” Panvostin murmured – a stage whisper. Eleena smiled; she was beginning to like Panvostin after all; who’d have thought it, her a young, energetic female with an appetite and him, an elderly philosopher with a penchant for making toy models of old spacecraft?

The door chimed and Olrinky II pressed the release, since they were finished discussing everything. Tokrin was there, looking halfway between excited and nervous. He remained motionless, looking around the room until his eyes alighted on Eleena. He was young, he liked her, and he was shy. He suffered.

“Speak up, boy, what is it? And stop gawking at our illustrious strumpet. She’d eat you for breakfast.”

Tokrin pulled his attention away from the voluptuous navigator. “Captain, sir, there is a large cruiser approaching; it’s just dropped from sub-light. They have greeted us, claiming to be from Quereldene, wherever that is. I think they have come to help; my understanding of Galaxymbion is rudimentary. I am unable to confirm their registry, though it does seem Galaxymbion. Never seen a star cruiser so huge; it dwarfs our biggest mining tugs.”

“Okay, you lot, back to stations. Tokrin, come here and help me out of my chair. And go fetch our guest from his room, if you would be so kind, Panvostin. We may need him on the command deck.”

Eleena was first back at her desk, studying readouts, statistics and field data about the vast, sleek disc now expanding in their forward view-screen. Olrinky II waddled to his chair and plonked down with a whoosh which always made the crew smile, except right now they were too focused on the massive vessel ahead.

“Good Lord, how big is that contraption?” Olrinky II gasped, drawing a plump hand over his boggling eyes. “It could fill an entire spaceport back home.”

“Sir, they are calling us still, and we should reply, shouldn’t we?” Tokrin asked timidly.

“Of course, you daft lad. Open coms and let’s hear and see who we are dealing with.”

The screen switched from an external view of the alien saucer to what appeared to be its command deck. That in itself look large enough to house Serendipity. In the centre sat a very regal looking reptilian being with golden scaly skin, rather nice green eyes and a very smart uniform that certainly looked like the sort of clothes worn by Belvandaran crews. The being spoke evenly and measured, though its language was quite unfamiliar.

“Anyone here speak Galaxymbion well?” Olrinky II asked.

“No, only a few words,” Eleena answered. “I think it said hello.”

“He said much more than just one word.” Olrinky II shifted uneasily in his chair and then heard the lift doors behind him open, revealing Panvostin and Mirek. “Ah, so glad you are both here. Any idea what our friend over there is saying?”

Mirek stepped forward and lowered the hood of his cloak, waiting for the view-screen alien to repeat its original message. Mirek said: “Yen Mirek Taro-ek sonkar tro Kolda-ra. Tivreth porankar sirin, kresekel Nimbeldream-ek lo Nightspearkra. Est on kalintor, pokra san Shazander melish. Rebeskon al akrati dorik, para taall arco. Mest yorgar treken var Shazanderis? Rebeskon ta Serendipikra. Ensha kresekel Olrinky Tav. Tombi Targan Shazander, bar lokrandis evenskal.”

The reptilian considered a moment, turned to one of its subordinates and then said something, equally incomprehensible as its first message, back to the view-screen.

“What’s happening?” Olrinky II demanded.

“Don’t worry, captain Olrinky. This is a Seshori class Interstellar Cruiser, Nightspear, of Quereldene registry. They will transport us to Belvandara and assist Trion, Vargon and any other Shazandern vessels with refugees. Their captain, Overseer Nimbledream, is arranging for a linguist with knowledge of Shazandern to report to him and translate for you.”

“I have never even heard of Quereldene; how can any of those lizards speak our language? I hope they aren’t capable of reading our minds like you did,” Eleena commented.

“One of them can speak Shazandern because your language is known to and understood by the Belvandarans – your nearest Galaxymbion neighbour. Such knowledge known by one Galaxymbion world is freely available to the rest.”

“What sort of a name is Nimbledream?” Eleena asked, gazing at the creature on the alien command deck.

“Oh Lord,” Olrinky II moaned. “Forget it you silly slut, he’s probably already married to a nice lizard lady back home on Quereldene. Forgive her, Mirek, I know she’s had her eye on you, now this Nimbledream is her new flavour of the month.”

“The Quelae are not exactly lizards,” Mirek began. “They are reptilian, though. Their names are very figurative; a lot depends on where and when they were born. Names usually depict some characteristic, interest or skill shown by them in childhood. Occasionally they may be named after a place or event that held cultural importance at the time of their birth.”

“How come you know so much about these lizards?” Eleena persisted.

“Knowledge of other cultures is extremely important to all citizens of the Galaxymbion. We are actively encouraged to travel to other member worlds and develop friendships with their citizens, therefore many Galaxymbion citizens live and work on foreign planets. It produces the healthiest societies. I have a very good Quelae friend called Notesounder; I sense his presence now on Nightspear as their communications chief. He is a bright individual who loves music from many different worlds, sometimes even outside the Galaxymbion.”

“Well, it’s just lovely for you that Nightspear happened to be in this neighbourhood then, isn’t it?”

“There is far more to it than that, mistress Eleena. The Galaxymbion must have Carrier 4’s information concerning the temporal storm that destroyed Shazander. We do not have time for flippancy.” Mirek delivered this rebuke in such a way that it was simultaneously kind yet stern. The voluptuous navigator lowered her head in reverence and contemplation.

“Well, I have never seen that before,” commented Panvostin, in awe that anyone could with so few and serious words cause the acerbic courtesan to exude humility and respect.

“Nightspear is transmitting again” Tokrin announced. Nimbledream now had another Quelae standing next to him; They spoke a few moments and then, in almost perfect Shazandern, his associate provided the meaning.

“Captain Olrinky II and noble crew of Shazandern vessel Serendipity, we understand your situation quite highly and entreat you to bring to us yourselves in our hangar bay. Door opens now, where you can rest Serendipity and will be welcome to stay with us under Quelae protection. Be not alarmed by us, for we harm not any for such cannot be our way as Galaxymbions. My name will be Overseer Nimbledream. Once aboard we must to Mirek Taro discuss events to which Aldebaran 1 much witnessed. We will handle all problems according as best to each of us.”

“Thank you, Overseer Nimbledream. Er, what exactly will become of us and our vessel? We are gem prospectors and, as I understand Galaxymbion society, you do not value bits of metal, mineral or paper. In fact, your society is not built on economic goals.”

The associate spoke quietly to Nimbledream who answered again in a measured way. The associate provided the Shazandern equivalent. “Captain Olrinky II, be alarmed you should not. All can find meaningful status in Galaxymbion worlds. You will have skills and they can be applied to something more sensible of barterage. To your skills will come some alternate task. Please guide to us your vessel. On approach within Nightspear’s main hangar, will controls switch to us; then we guide you to rest.”

Nimbledream’s image, and the vast command deck behind him, winked out and the external view of the Quelae vessel returned, now larger than ever. In a few moments its gleaming hangar became all that they could see, stretching before them in clean white, silver and black splendour, lined with glowing green conduits and blinking rows of blue guide-lights.

“We no longer have control of Serendipity,” Eleena announced. “They are bringing us in; deploying our landing struts now. Thrusters powering down. Some sort of adjustable rubberised clamps manoeuvring to secure us. Securing grips extending from floor and ceiling. Landing procedure completed.”

“That was far smoother than you ever managed, Eleena,” Olrinky II commented.

“Their crew are probably all seven hundred years old,” she snarled back. “I’ll be that good when I’m their age.”

“We should meet our hosts and help get Carrier 4 out of your cargo bay; it is quite unlikely that the Quelae have ever seen a Shazandern vessel before,” Mirek commented.

“Okay everyone, let’s go,” Olrinky II encouraged, “let’s not keep our new friends waiting.” The crew filed out, as Olrinky punched a communicator button. “Engineering, it’s time to disembark. All crew attention; disembark Serendipity. Captain Olrinky II code 7T9.” He looked at Mirek. “Well, here we are, apparently joining the Galaxymbion. Lead on.”

Out in the hangar bay seven Quelae stood awaiting their guests. Olrinky tried to determine which one was Nimbledream, but they all looked the same to him. Mirek, however, had already approached a particular ‘lizard’ and was clasping its left shoulder and saying “peace be yours, Nimbledream”. He looked back at Olrinky II and said in Shazandern “please do as I, you and your crew.” Mirek then moved on to the next Quelae, clasping the individual’s left shoulder; “peace be yours, Notesounder. It is good to see you again.” He moved on to the third.

“Are we supposed to say to the second lizard about seeing it again?” Eleena asked Panvostin. “Mirek said to copy him.”

“Don’t be daft; Mirek knows this creature, we do not. He meant only to follow this formality or greeting ritual.”

“Ah, fine.”

When the fifteen Shazanderns had met and greeted all seven of their welcoming committee they were taken to luxurious private rooms, apparently theirs for the whole journey. They were invited to bathe and dress in fresh clothing provided. Each Shazandern was assigned their own personal guide to show them how everything worked; bathing chambers, laundry chutes, food dispensers, window shields, lighting, climate controls and intercoms. Their guides had even been provided with audio translators apparently tied into some computer program written by the interpretor who had stood with Nimbledream during first contact. Only Mirek was summoned to discuss everything with the Overseer and senior Quelae officers.

Olrinky II briefly saw the Nightspear’s ‘sessions officer’ whose function it seemed was to acquire details of food and comfort requirements necessary for any guest of unfamiliar origins. Such hospitality from a superior species bowled the Shazanderns over; this level of service and concern was not even provided by the best hotels back home on Shazander, when it existed. After everyone had settled, washed, eaten and dressed in the sumptuous yet unusual Quelae garments their guides returned to help them fix their hair in the styling booths installed in each room, to find out how they could further assist, and to invite them to a relaxation concert before sleep.

“Some lovely music! Why not? Yes, of course,” said Olrinky II straight away.

“Wonderful, how interesting,” said Panvostin.

The rest nodded, some a little unsure, yet willing to attend if the captain and Panvostin were going. Only Eleena voiced any dissent, and even she seemed subdued by comparison with her usual self. This was probably because, dressed in a classic Grecian-style toga, she felt rather less aggressive than the way her ‘dirty prospector’ clothes made her feel. In fact not only did she feel like an entirely different person, she looked radiant and beautifully feminine.

“And exactly what music will we be hearing, Charmbearer? I do not like anything difficult, in fact I do not really like music much at all; then realistically I never have much time for it.”

“Our concert music tonight is provided by our own crewman Notesounder. It will be most pleasant after your ordeal, mistress Eleena. If you do not enjoy it, you can leave quietly at any time without causing offence.”

“Fine, I’ll attend. Thank you for inviting us.”

That evening they found Nightspear’s auditorium to be unbelievably large yet filled to capacity. The Shazanderns were provided with prime seats at the front row, the lights dimmed and – in total silence - about seventy Quelae strode onto the stage carrying unusual looking musical instruments of various types. There was no clapping or shouting, stamping of feet or rustling in the audience. The musicians sat and what was obviously their leader stood and announced the first piece they were to play, both in Galaxymbion and Shazandern, though the translation was a little strange. It was surely a mistake, for what piece of music could possibly be called ‘Sky Meditation in Blue Major’?

Elsewhere, Mirek and Nimbledream finished reviewing Carrier 4’s information, together with some of Nightspear’s department heads, for the seventh time. The television wall went dark and then returned to looking like any other wall.

“How extraordinary,” Forestwatcher commented, for the seventh time. “If this Aldebaran provides accurate information we face a certain catastrophe in common with our neighbouring galaxy. Since it is clear that you and Carrier 4 arrived on Elvakay around the same time, yet independently, and only one Galaxymbion vessel was there, might we ask as to how your journey was accomplished, Mirek Taro?”

“I was sent there by Weethis and the Brethren of Kytonia.”

“Yes, you mentioned them before,” Nimbledream commented. “For the moment, not questioning exactly what Weethis and the Brethren are or how Kytonia came to have an indigenous species, by what method were you sent to Elvakay?”

“The Brethren have direct links to time and space; they call themselves chronomorphs and manipulate universal forces.”

“How extraordinary,” Forestwatcher repeated. “This is baffling indeed. A temporal storm from Andromeda extinguishes an entire solar system, and you were sent to nearby Elvakay, presumably for some very good reason.”

“To recover and protect Carrier 4. The Brethren knew that it would encounter a malignant disturbance and record vital data about it. Without my presence our Shazandern guests would have claimed the Aldebaran as salvage with no clue about its vital cargo; all information it held would have become unavailable.”

“So, this ‘Weethis’ and his ‘Brethren’ are prescient, maybe even omniscient, and can warp time and space with their thoughts? Where were you before they sent you to Elvakay to ensure Carrier 4 survived and returned to the Galaxymbion?”

“On my home-world in Iloa Citadel, in its past. I was sent there with partial amnesia, by the Brethren. It was vital that I meet a woman called Aramek Skane and have a child with her. If I had retained any solid memories of my previous life my purpose there would have failed.”

“Even more extraordinary,” Forestwatcher elaborated. “Why was that child so important that you must be taken, with amnesia, from a previous life to father it?”

Mirek looked squarely at the Quelae before speaking. “The boy is, was, called Rilmuta Skane. Without my return to that earlier time when Aramek was a student, she would have remained single and childless her entire life. I am not exactly certain of Rilmuta Skane’s importance in Kolda-rian history. I also knew Aramek Skane in my firstlife, and she held an important role in an incident involving the Ambassador of Octaladon, Uexin Gurss. It seems clear to me that Rilmuta will also become important, for reasons I do not yet clearly comprehend.”

“Interesting. Did you know that Rilmuta Skane, your son, is the current Planetary Viceroy of Kolda-ra?”

“Current, how? He would not be old enough yet. What time frame is it on Kolda-ra?”

Overseer Nimbledream consulted a handheld data viewer which he got from a small pocket in his jacket. “Kolda-ra is currently in time frame 2796, Galaxymbion Membership era.”

Mirek stood up abruptly. “Apologies, Overseer, colleagues. Carrier 4’s data must be delivered to the Galaxymbion in 2770, the time I came from originally, not 2796. Delivered to the present authorities will be too late. Tell me, what is the galactic chronological condition at present?”

“Crumbling, Mirek Taro. The Galaxymbion does what it can to patch the breaches but more and more appear each day and whole solar systems have been ravaged by gravitational and sequential imbalances. As time collapses it takes everything that depends on it with it, into oblivion. Only twenty-five members of the Galaxymbion still exist, the rest perished before adequate defences could be developed. Outside the Galaxymbion thousands of worlds have already fallen to this time sickness; nearly half the galaxy experiences arbitrary time shifts and vessels like Nightspear have to be fitted with appropriate defences – a system called Chronomesh. There are whole regions where electrons and other particles have lost temporal cohesion and fundamental chemical structure is falling apart. Unless a true solution is found our galaxy will become a decayed, self-mutilating corpse within the next half century, Galactic Standard Time.”

“Excuse me, Nimbledream. I must return to my accommodation and rest. Your news has very serious consequences. I will need to meditate on what can be done in light of my current sequential location.” And with that he strode out of the meeting room without another word.

“What can be made of this, Overseer?” Forestwatcher asked. Nimbledream shook his head solemnly without saying a word.

“Notesounder knew Mirek, before his disappearance back in 2770, Kolda-rian time frame. Notesounder describes him as a good person with a strong soul and ethic, whose disappearance was a great loss to everyone. It happened on Kytonia, following a Glane assassination attempt on Ambassador Gurss. The assassin was followed there by a Kolda-rian defence corps Aldebaran ‘6’ or ‘7’ and Mirek was the pilot. His wife was never the same after that. Nobody who knew him was the same, especially his parents. Notesounder visited them a few times and told me how terrible life became for them.”

“Whilst Mirek was telling us of these matters I took a scan of his subatomic structure,” Forestwatcher stated. “He tells the truth; he is of 2770, and his matter has been time shifted negatively by around thirty orbits and then shifted positively by around fifty-five orbits. There are significant signs of simultaneous spatial distortions also.”

“Could these be effects of our galaxy’s Temporal Crisis?” Nimbledream enquired.

“The shifts are too coherent, Overseer. Mirek has been moved through time and space in a methodical and deliberate manner, twice.”

“What happened to this Weethis and The Brethren of Kytonia?” Nimbledream enquired.

“Don’t you remember? About seven orbits ago the Kytonian expanse was ruptured into sequential fragments by a causality quake. The whole area was quarantined by the Kolda-rians and a temporal shield constructed around it. Now the breaches are leaking through that shield and repairs are ineffective. Kolda-ra is on the Galaxymbion’s list of endangered worlds, and evacuation may be necessary very soon. The Galaxymbion can afford no more losses.”

In his room in darkness a figure in a cloak knelt in apparent prayer, though it was something more important than that. He was reaching out to the only being he knew could now help him complete his mission. Half a micral in front of him space divided and a slim blue creature appeared, hovering in mid-air. ‘You summoned me,’ it thought to him.

“This time frame is unhelpful. You must send me back to my own time frame so that I can deliver Carrier 4’s information to the Galaxymbion before this disaster devours half the galaxy.”

“All that we do and have done is correct, Mirek Taro. Weethis knows and understands all that must be, and now you do also. You have grown in your powers since I showed you to the pool on Elvakay. Now you are also of The Brethren; at one with us in Kalmek’s web. You understand what is and what must be.”

“Yes, Flaze. I must go to Carrier 4 and travel back to 2770 with it. Can you or Weethis help sending us back so that our galaxy can be saved?”

“We can no longer intervene in your destiny, Mirek Taro, since you now possess the power yourself. No Brethren can determine another chronomorph’s path. Go to Carrier 4 and make your journey; you will know what to do.”

“I do not know how to bend time as you do, Flaze.”

“Today, that is true, tomorrow will be different. Nightspear will slingshot around Falda again. During that manoeuvre gravity, time, space and matter converge. Use that time to make the crossing.”