THE GALAXYMBION ODYSSEY

“Every operation can be governed by manipulation of a single disc crystal,” Charmbearer was telling Olrinky II, who had had a slight accident in a sports hall and, having injured his left leg, was now floating through Nightspear on an anti-grav cradle. This reminded him of a hover-platform except it was more comfortable, high-tech, much much smaller and gave a smoother, safer feel to one’s travels. And Eleena could not commandeer it. The Quelae was indicating an oval translucence floating above a panel, with red ‘lightning’ sparkling inside it.

“Amazing. I still don’t see how it works.”

“We are migratory telepaths, so we understand neural interfaces rather well. These ovals are linked to the controls via a form of artificial telepathy we call Neuromesh. It is quite unique to Quelae vessels, though a few other species have something similar. The console under each oval contains neural links to a particular system; propulsion, defence, scanning, trajectory – for example. Most consoles, as you know from your own Serendipity, have buttons or sensor plates. Sometimes those are multifarious; buttons or dials for every single function. Sometimes they are ‘graduated’ interfaces where velocity for example can be altered depending on how far you slide a finger along a segmented sensor circuit; the more you slide the finger to the ‘fast’ end the faster the vessel will travel. We consider such controls highly inefficient and prone to accidents. Of course, where they are in use, there are some safeguards. If you are travelling slowly, say at point five light, and by accident touch the interface at a point demanding dangerous acceleration, the safety regulators will ask you to confirm you actually wanted this sudden change and obtain commanding officer authorisation.

“However, Quelae prefer to control all ship functions more directly; each oval contains a special disc crystal encoded with finely variable instructions. Once activated the disc discharges its own special frequency of lightning within the oval translucence. From that a navigator or defence officer understands the current condition of the system. They then have a choice of physically manipulating the translucence to alter the lightning pattern, and thus Nightspear’s response, or managing the same commands telepathically.”

“Fantastic,” Panvostin enthused. “How long does it take for a crewman to learn to read the lightning and control it?”

“About two decorbs. For a telepath it is rather easy to interpret neural and psychic interfaces.”

At that point Olrinky II miscalculated his use of the piloting joystick on his anti-grav and collided very gently with Charmbearer. “Sorry, it’s either me being a backward-worlder or this platform is uncertain of where it goes.”

“These anti-grav platforms are sometimes difficult for non-telepaths to manage; the joystick is not a normal control interface concept for Quelae so forgive us if our engineers have made it too clumsy.”

“No, it’s my fault. Out of interest, perhaps I could meet your chief engineer. Nightspear is fascinating and I love engineering. You know, between you and me, I really wanted to be an engineer; my father – Olrinky I, bless his rotund soul - wanted a son who would carry on the proud family tradition of mining and prospecting.”

“I can take you to see our chief engineer. She is not Quelae, though. She is of Monodeme, so you might find her appearance a little difficult.”

“Why, for goodness sake?”

“Monodemans are arachnoforms with a total circumference of around one millirecule.”

“Well, exactly what is an arachnoform, and how big is a millirecule?” Eleena asked. Charmbearer showed her a millirecule span and then a picture of a Monodeman on a datapad. “Yikes!” she gasped. “Are they dangerous?”

“Of course not,” Charmbearer stated, almost sounding offended. “Monodeme is an ASCENSION world. They are completely civilised, and Morlek, our engineer, is an exemplary crew member as well as a genius engineer and a powerful telepath.”

“Great,” mumbled Panvostin. “I can see that on Nightspear we will spend all our time having our thoughts read.”

“No, no, no,” Charmbearer stated with surprise. “Galaxymbionts will not invade minds without good cause.”

For some odd reason Mirek found his mind roaming to thoughts of music, extracts from Carmina Burana floating around his head, melodies pushing their insistent way across his divided brain as they were prone to do from time to time. Music was an ongoing obsession which particularly fascinated him when it originated from that strange, backward planet, Ledara. If only they were as skilled at living as their classical composers had been at creating music. What a delicious paradise world it (Ledara) could have been. Alas, the species were an enormous disappointment, and sometimes even a nightmare, in the galaxy. Clicking fingers disbanded his cerebral orchestra.

“Your mind meanders again, my friend.”

“My apologies, Notesounder. I was distracted by music once more, my preoccupation being a recurring weakness, as you well know. Moreover, there is no wish on my part to become invulnerable to it.”

“This one knows what you mean, being a musician itself, by profession. Let this one guess that you were thinking of some Ledaran composition; say nothing, for this is known to itself. Really, Mirek, why should you continue to dwell on the sounds of some delinquent, mediocre species when millions of truly exceptional compositions have poured out of the hearts and souls of Galaxymbion musicians?”

“Well, I have told you millions of times at rehearsals, concerts and other occasions where we experienced sounds of our galaxy, that the great Ledaran composers’ music possesses some curious yet wonderfully haunting essence. It invigorates, and breathes life into, the spirit in an indescribable way that escapes only those with cold, unfeeling souls. Hardly any wonder why those human composers have always been so badly neglected amongst their own species; you know, my musical friend, that their classical music is performed fifteen times more frequently on Kolda-ra than it ever was on its planet of origin.”

“Hmmm. Perhaps what you say is true. Being reptilian this one is probably cold-hearted and reserved, though it likes to think not unfeeling. Our music possesses a coherence and logic unsurpassed - and not even equalled by - anything of Ledara. This one could never relax with wild works of Mahler, Rachmaninov or Tchaikovsky. This one prefers intellectual vigour from J.S. Bach or Sibelius, and even they have occasional irregularities that disturb our saurian mind.”

“As usual, my reptilian friend, you mangle your pronouns horribly; what is it with you people and ‘I’? Do you fear self-identity so much?”

Notesounder frowned at Mirek and was about to launch into some abstract psychological digression when an alarm sounded.

Olrinky’s group of fifteen survivors had just entered the engineering concourse and received their first shock. Morlek. A delicate huge spider-like individual with a sleek, flat body and a well-proportioned head sporting seven glistening yellow eyes arranged in a semi-circle. There were no mandibles. There were three wiry antennae pointing forward from Morlek’s skull. These antennae ended in small bulbous beads that pulsated with faint yellowish luminosity. Morlek’s body expanded and contracted as she breathed. Between an upper rounded shell and a flat lower shell protruded equidistant legs. Ten of them, all hairless and glistening with refracted light as if they were refined silicate structures. Upon detecting their presence, Morlek skittered over to them in a friendly way. Despite this several Shazanderns, including Eleena, shied back as if under attack.

“Ark. Greetings be in you, friends of fifteen. Enter, nich nivit do I bite for I am Morlek, good lady I am.” The sound seemed real even though there had been no sign of a mouth moving. Olrinky II wondered if the being had a mouth, and sincerely hoped the answer was no. “Mouth have not. Eat energy does this one of Monodeme.” A front leg raised and from the end of its opalescent silicate casing seven sinuous fronds extended, forming a type of hand.

Eleena pushed Olrinky II forward gently and, plucking up tremendous courage, he held his own right hand out, trembling.

“Be not afraid, Olrinky II of Shazander. Hurt people never I can,” Morlek clicked, shaking its semi-transparent head. All seven eyes blinked. The fronds gently wrapped around Olrinky’s extended hand and his look of fear promptly evaporated to be replaced by a broad smile which he happily shared with everyone.

“It’s warm and pleasant to touch; makes me feel calm and clear-headed. What is that sensation, lady Morlek?”

“Melemendak,” Morlek uttered, raising another front leg in Eleena’s direction, and producing similar fronds for her to hold. “Hello say to Morlek, gracious lady of Shazander.”

Warming to this respectfulness Eleena held her right hand out also and experienced a similar reaction to her captain’s when the fronds gently held her fingers. “Yeah, that’s really nice,” she said, grinning widely. An alarm interrupted what had so far turned out to be a very pleasant meeting. Morlek withdrew her fronds and skittered off to attend to her duties.

“What’s going on?” Panvostin enquired. Charmbearer touched a wall intercom plate and thought her request to Nightspear’s central computer.

“Someone is opening the main hangar bay doors, just as we begin our slingshot around Falda. The Aldebaran 1 you discovered on Elvakay is launching. Please come to this wall; safety seats will now unfold. You must harness yourselves securely, in case Nightspear needs to make sudden course corrections.”

Notesounder had only looked away from Mirek briefly to study a nearby display. As he looked back towards his friend he was surprised to discover no Mirek. He found it difficult to focus properly, as if some force was controlling his mind. Then in an instant the control lifted and his mind was working under its own power.

‘Apologies, my dear friend Notesounder. Forgive my psionic manipulation of your thoughts, the conversation I caused you to experience and this telepathic intrusion. It is imperative I go back to my own time with Carrier 4. It is essential to help the Galaxymbion fight this accursed galactic temporal decay.’

Notesounder understood his duty to Nightspear, yet Mirek was a good friend and he trusted him. He also understood the importance of halting The Crisis before temporal instability made life impossible. He remained seated, drinking fruit juice. Slowly.

Nimbledream stared in disbelief as Carrier 4 carefully advanced ahead of Nightspear. “What has happened to those towing beams?” he said to Forestwatcher.

“Some force is blocking them, Overseer. We are unable to circumvent this interference. Carrier 4 appears to be creating a form of hybrid dimensional rift ahead of it, and its carrier wave has the same signature as our temporal dampeners.”

“Damn! I thought Kolda-rians were FOUNDER citizens, above any type of erratic behaviour. What in heavens does Mirek think he will accomplish by this? Forestwatcher, analyse the rift pattern and determine which time-frame region Carrier 4 is setting course for. Then match it; we are going after him.”

“Complying, Overseer. Rift pattern indicates negative twenty-six Kolda-rian orbits; setting Nightspear temporal matrix to same frequency for pursuit.”

Up ahead Carrier 4 jumped through a blue energy gate of its own making and disappeared. The time gate collapsed leaving regular space behind it. “Initiate chronological pursuit course now,” Nimbledream snapped. Nothing happened. He swivelled round to face Forestwatcher. “Report.”

“Overseer, Nightspear no longer possesses its time crystal! Engineering confirm; time crystal and tachyon power cells no longer present in our Powermesh. Towing beams are back on line.”

“Damn! How can a Kolda-rian be a thief-saboteur, and a good one at that? Send to Galaxymbion High Council immediately. Nightspear over Falda; renegade Kolda-rian citizen Mirek Taro has stolen reclaimed Belvandaran deep space probe Carrier 4 along with our Neuromesh time crystal and tachyon power cells. Psion force was used to incapacitate our towing beams. Renegade has initiated time jump negative twenty-six Kolda-rian orbits. Unable to pursue. Request instruction, signed Overseer Nimbledream.”

A junior helmsman looked at Nimbledream questioningly. “Presumably Mirek journeys to this earlier time to change something. Perhaps his behaviour is not erratic after all. I wonder how it will affect us, Overseer?”

Fortunately Nimbledream, the Seshori class Nightspear crew of five hundred and fifty, and its fifteen Shazandern guests were spared any anxiety attempting to answer such a complex and frightening question; whatever Mirek had achieved in the past its effect now took hold. In a spectacular burst of expanding green temporal energy Nightspear disappeared from space and time as though it had never existed.

2770/2019

Lishtoo-Shan-Garra left his office with some urgency. His assistant Ula Longarchive saw that he was leaving and hurriedly vacated her office to follow him. He maintained a brisk pace and stony silence. She thought it best just to keep level with him and remain silent also. In a few moments they entered one of the hundreds of informal social arenas dotted around Monzarl’s Primary Dockyard. Faria Salddari of Kolda-ra, Veloriss-Tanvil-Sar of Iclaan and Sarthena of Attel were already there.

“How is the new dual project progressing?” Lishtoo-Shan-Garra asked, looking intently at Faria.

“The Terka class Maidenquest is subordinate to Kulnidaro, Engineering Viceroy. As for time cruiser Nightspear, that is on hold until the Quelae scientists arrive. I believe there is no point in even designing this temporal version of a Seshori class cruiser without the Quelae, since they are the only species serving as its crew, apart from one Monodeman. Do you think Anavar and the others will be angry with us for this apparent lack of headway?”

“Angry, no. Disappointed, yes. Let me worry about the Triumvirate; I was once their Third. Just have your facts and figures ready if I need them. How about you, Sarthena and Veloriss-Tanvil-Sar?”

“Only two decorbs have passed and we have completed five Andromeda Super Citadels. They can’t complain about that. I’d like to know what they are really needed for, though. This place is crawling with a Citadel’s worth of the Galaxymbions’ greatest physicists and engineers. The specifications of these new vessels are extraordinary, and their clandestine purposes baffling,” Sarthena volunteered. Veloriss, taciturn as ever, merely nodded his agreement.

“Two decorbs ago, when I was appointed to guide The Monzarl Project, I thought it was ludicrous and deranged. Each rev new evidence arrives to support the urgency of these four new vessels. The Triumvirate’s visit today is totally unprecedented throughout twenty five millennia of history on any of our worlds and only heightens this importance. Remember that, all of us must. They never journey anywhere just to observe routine engineering projects.”

Veloriss inclined his head in acknowledgment of these facts whilst Sarthena looked more concerned. Across the void of space visible through the social arena’s synthiglass, a vast Arcturus class cruiser slowly glided round the Outer Ring at a forty two degree tilt. Sarthena stared at this beautiful yet gargantuan spectacle, the largest of all interstellar starships and second in size only to Orion Space Citadels or the unique Kulnidaro. That she was now the co-creator of an even more colossal Super Citadel did nothing to lessen her awe at this sight. Even with almost total automation the Arcturus class required one thousand three hundred crew for extended deep space journeys, and could comfortably accommodate six hundred and fifty passengers at any time. It was not a vessel to use locally, and she wondered why one of the smaller interstellar cruisers – Carina or Calona - had not been chosen by the Albascade Triumvirate for a relatively small local voyage.

Outside their vantage point that mammoth had now levelled off and was gliding to docking rest at the opposite promontory.

“Time to go,” Lishtoo-Shan-Garra announced. “We’ll catch a monorail cab.” He led them out of the social arena, again at a brisk pace. A monorail was waiting specially for them at the next matrix junction, and they hopped in, greeted cheerfully by a smart, uniformed engineer. Against gentle moonlight their cab smoothly slid passed construction berth after construction berth. Monzarl was the most technical of all Galaxymbion FOUNDER worlds and was a natural base for construction projects of any size or focus.

To add to its attractiveness for special projects Monzarl had a complex multiple moon system and protective, densely populated planetary rings. This made attack difficult, dangerous and slow, giving automated defence grids easy targets to neutralize. Five other FOUNDER worlds were reasonably near (by galactic standards), being able therefore to provide additional protection at short notice; Landrios, Azzorda, Dreena, Novaska and Saara 2. Not that such support would ever be necessary. Monzarl’s outer defence perimeter was impressively impenetrable at legendary proportions; sensitive enough to detect an insect ten Arcons away, accurate enough to disintegrate said insect whilst still at that distance and intelligent enough to decipher whether said insect was dangerous or harmless whilst at that same distance. Soon all Galaxymbion worlds would have their outer defence perimeters upgraded to the Monzarl Superlative Powermesh configuration.

Surprisingly for such a technically minded species, the Monziri had constructed all their defences and dockyards with aesthetic beauty. Everything was clean, bright, crafted with sinuous and elegant contours and an appearance of logically cohesive symmetry. “This is our stop,” Lishtoo-Shan-Garra announced. Their cab halted and its doors opened. They parted, bidding their smart monorail operator goodbye. Such an archaic custom was of course unnecessary, since all transports in this system had both self-operating and automated functions. However, Monziri loved traditions and interacting with people.

“Engineering Viceroy, should we not travel further, since the Triumvirate’s cruiser docked against the outer ring promontory?”

“Quite true, Faria. Anavar specifically requested to meet us in the Inner Sanctum.”

They turned a corner and approached a semi-circular desk tended by a typically exotic young Pelmari woman in a smart light blue suit of heavy winter material, exquisitely tailored.

“Greetings Viceroy Garra, Prefect Longarchive, Noble Scientists. The Inner Triumvirate await you in Sanctum. Palm and retina scan then go straight through the corridor to the end. No need to wait or use door chimes.”

“Thank you, Commodore Zelispra.”

Everyone placed both their palms on the scanners located at intervals along the desk’s surface. Readouts confirmed names, body temperatures, blood types, species, chemical base, fingerprints (if they had them) and palm dimension ratios. When each scanner finished an interconnected scanning discus hovered up from each nearby aperture and took a holographic 3D map of their retinas (both) and cranial cavity dimensions. The final scans read brain waves. In a few pulses all scanning portals displayed ‘identity confirmed’. Zelispra smiled sweetly and indicated for the Viceroy’s delegation to go ahead.

Faria noted how different this Inner Sanctum was from that on Albascade. Everything here on High-tech Monzarl was super comfortable, warm and modern. She understood both worlds, of course, and liked each for itself. It was just such a tremendous contrast that it impressed her.

The corridor was short, with white plasti-steel walls and overhead covered lighting panels that reminded her of Aldebaran external Sensormesh grids. Then she recalled that the Aldebaran series had been conceived and first built at Monzarl orbital shipyards. The floor here was sumptuously carpeted in what seemed to be the Monziri favourite colour of sky blue. Lishtoo-Shan Garra was already opening a rather plain and simple metal door, though Faria noted he used his telekinesis to do this. Again in stark contrast to Albascade, the Inner Sanctum here was brightly lit and modern.

Interestingly, seven figures stood in the room, including two floating electric snakes, as far as Faria could make out. This was a departure for a Triumvirate, since they were fabled never to invite any individuals other than their Firsts, Seconds and Thirds to direct Triangulus sessions. Furthermore they did not ‘interview’ people as a group; always each person was invited in alone.

A central figure, who she recognised as Anavar, sat down, followed either side by his Second and Third, Amryk-Em-Kovy and Kendras Arion. The other two remained standing, and the electric snakes hovered in mid-air patiently. “Please be seated. There is water, a variety of juices from your home-worlds and some familiar foods on the table, if you so wish. Those of you who do not know me, I am Anavar of Albascade. To my left is Kendras Arion of Belvandara, to my right Amryk-Em-Kovy of Talara. Together we form the Albas-ri Triumvirate, however today we appear before you not as that world’s Triad, simply as concerned Galaxymbion citizens.

“Citizens extremely concerned with the temporal cancer that is afflicting our Galaxy. Based on current estimates we only have fifty to fifty-five orbits before the space-time Pulsewave structure of our galactic home no longer adequately supports life or other cosmic material. Gravity, being dependent upon time, will become erratic and dangerous. In short, unless we act immediately, the Galaxy will be completely uninhabitable in approximately sixty orbits.

“Have any of you heard of Tandelion?”

Lishtoo-Shan-Garra and his team of delegates shook their heads.

“Approximately three Nebulans ago an Albas-ri philosopher and mystic wrote that ‘time created thought but thought destroyed time.’ Very few of his contemporaries understood exactly what he meant by that. He went on to state that ‘when thought is aggressive, mad, erratic, chaotic, or unprincipled time follows it. Alternatively, when thought is mild, sane, organised, benevolent and intelligent time settles calmly and with dignity.’ His name was Tandelion. Recent events have shown us what Tandelion was trying to tell the universe. Kendras?”

The Second interlaced his fingers on the table surface. Old and wise, strong and vigorous, Kendras Arion was a formidable sage and seer on his home-world. “Nearly ten decades ago Belvandara despatched the first of four Aldebaran 1 probes to the galactic perimeter. One of them will continue circumnavigating our galaxy externally at a distance, mapping it in exquisite detail. Two of those probes disappeared some time ago, one of which left our galaxy to begin travelling to Andromeda. The fourth will disappear approximately twenty-four orbits from now; it will encounter a temporal disturbance from Andromeda, and change course, suffering some damage in the process. It will land on Elvakay, attempting to repair itself and transmit its data back to Belvandara. Its transmissions will not be received, nor its emergency beacon detected, by the Belvandarans of that future time. However, it has now returned to us.”

Heads looked up sharply. Veloriss-Tanvil-Sar, almost always silent, looked at the Belvandaran and spoke softly. “How did it traverse time?”

Kendras beckoned one of the motionless, standing figures who then stepped forward and placed an oval translucence on the table followed by two tachyon power cells. “With these, and the help of someone known to one of you.”

“Looks like a Quelae Neuromesh unit,” Veloriss remarked. “What is it supposed to do?”

“It harnesses time-field displacements and uses them to move any vessel it is linked to through time. I know; theoretically this should not be possible. Yet here it is.”

“Who designed it?” Faria Salddari asked excitedly. “It is quite something.”

“You will design it,” Amryk-Em-Kovy resonated telepathically through the air. “And you will install it on Nightspear according to specifications provided by someone of your acquaintance. I introduce you to Mirek Taro of Kolda-ra.”

The fourth figure, dressed in a long, flowing, hooded cloak, pulled the hood down. “Greetings, Faria Salddari. It has been a while since we met in Iloa Citadel. I hope life has been agreeable for you.”

“Good heavens! The young man displaced in time so long ago. About 2745 or 2746. We could not quite understand what had happened to you, back then. Now it is clear.”

“2741 to 2750. Physicist Salddari, even I could not comprehend what happened to me at that time.”

“We only knew that you subsequently disappeared leaving Aramek and a son. I recall you had already appeared in her life having disappeared from Kytonia in this time, just a few decorbs ago. Are those the glowsnakes you often talked about?” Faria pointed at the hovering creations.

“I am Weethis of The Brethren,” one stated telepathically.

“And I am Flaze of The Brethren,” the other echoed similarly.

“Yes, they are glowsnakes. How are Aramek, my son, and Imari?” Mirek requested.

“Aramek is fine; she became Corpus Prefect in Tirian Citadel. Rilmuta is a co-ordinator for Orbital Control. Imari still serves as medic in Planetary Defence Corps. Mirek, how did you obtain that Quelae device?”

“From Nightspear’s future, twenty-six orbits from now.”

“Which reminds me, bringing us back to matters at hand,” Anavar interjected. “Construction of Nightspear has not yet begun. Why, Viceroy Lishtoo-Shan-Garra?”

“We need to style the cruiser for Quelae use. Their assigned engineers and scientists have not yet arrived here.”

“You could have built its frame: Maidenquest and Nightspear were requested three phases ago,” Anavar pointed out.

“True, however our priorities have been Kulnidaro and your Super Citadels. Our understanding is that they are the key to saving our future.”

“Viceroy, The Tandelion Solution depends on Nightspear, Maidenquest, Kulnidaro and the Super Citadels proceeding simultaneously, launching on time, fully able to complete their missions. That is why we expanded your construction mandate. Faria, you will install spare temporal drive units in each new vessel, in case of failure or theft.” Anavar was looking at Mirek as he said this. “With the obvious exception of Nightspear; the Quelae timeship must not be able to pursue Mirek or escape from its destiny on ancient Kolda-ra.”

“Do the Quelae know what awaits them?”

“Their Triumvirate and Corpus clearly understand Nightspear’s vital role in Kolda-ra’s distant past, Mirek.”

“Poor Notesounder.”