THE GALAXYMBION ODYSSEY

Those accursed Galaxymbionts called this a prison; said they had to keep Syhe Alderhin here because they were unable to return her to a future where she would be executed by her contemporaries for having been caught. They were correct; returning to Gelaymer bearing such failure as being captured by the enemy certainly would mean instant death for her. That’s what made her angriest of all; these Kolda-rians were right and now she belonged nowhere. To make matters far worse her captors, in their drive for civilisation and safety, had removed her thorns and sub-cutaneous venom sacs. What is the point of a thornid with no thorns and no venom, she asked herself repeatedly?

Being of a backward culture she did not appreciate this room’s cleanliness, light and beauty of design. Being primitive she hated the aesthetic comfort and the civilised, caring way her captives looked after her. Being savage she found imprisonment understandable although infuriating. Several times she had lost her temper with her visitors; gentle Kolda-rians just bringing her food, clean clothes, inviting her to some activity or asking if there was anything they could bring for her. She attacked them and they repelled her attacks easily. They did not punish such behaviour, except to reprimand her verbally and politely. They just kept her here behind impenetrable force fields and locked doors, on some barren asteroid at the edge of their solar system.

She had no idea what had become of her knifestar. Not that it mattered, since the wretched contraption for all its futuristic technology had still failed to outwit or even match Galaxymbion technology from five centuries in its time frame’s past. Another day. No other thornids. There were not even sharp objects, ropes, poisons or anything else she could constructively use to commit ritual suicide (seppuku). Everything remotely dangerous to her or her captors had been removed from the room following her first tantrums. She decided to drop to the floor and exercise a little. Even that no longer held its appeal; Kolda-rians were physically stronger and some of them were sufficiently psionic to control matter or other minds. She would never be strong enough to fight her way out. Where would she go, anyway, she thought to herself? It was well known amongst her people that Galaxymbion vessels only respond to orders from Galaxymbion citizens. Tourism on a pathetic little asteroid?

“To answer your question, you must come with us.”

Syhe Alderhin leapt to her feet in an attack posture and stared in belligerent disbelief at three hooded, cloaked figures standing in her room. There had been no chime, no usual polite ‘may we come in’, no electric fizzles as the barrier was switched off then resurrected.

“Don’t you mean, I will come with you to answer your questions? Who are you? How did you get in here?”

The central figure spoke evenly, unconcerned that she looked ready to claw its eyes out if she could locate them under that voluminous hood. “I am Rilmuta Skane. We share something in common; I also am from the future. However, my younger self already exists naturally in this time frame. Now, if you please, follow us; we have something important we would like you to do.”

“I go nowhere unless I know why. Are you Triumvirate? I know you Galaxymbionts all have an ultimate authority on each world; three people with exceptional gifts who can control matter and energy with their minds – even time and life themselves. I would rather die than let you sift through my mind again to learn of Gelaymer’s glorious future, when your precious Galaxymbion no longer exists.”

“We are not Triumvirate, and your mind contains nothing of value to us.”

“Assassins, then?” She seemed unperturbed by their comment.

“Galaxymbion worlds do not raise, train, employ or condone assassins, Syhe Alderhin. You are wasting time. Your Knifestar is docked and awaits you.”

“I go nowhere till you reveal yourselves. Show me your faces.”

The central figure pulled his cowl down, revealing a Kolda-rian of approximately forty orbits old. Young for their kind. He was in good health and impressive to behold. However, Syhe Alderhin had the shock of her life when the other two beings pulled back their cowls and revealed themselves to be: Glanes. One was dressed in the uniform of Regent and possessed the blood amulet of Torgrath on his chest armour. Syhe Alderhin immediately dropped to her knees and bowed her head. “Regent, I am unfit to be in your presence. My failure to escape…”

“Be quiet, Alderhin. We have an important assignment for you. Ambassador Uexin Gurss is still alive. We offer you the chance to redeem yourself by attacking his vessel on approach to Octaladon.”

“Yes, Regent. Gurss is alive? How can that be, since I threw a poison dart at him? It struck home and he was in a cave far from any medical assistance.”

“We do not have time for this,” Rilmuta repeated. He turned to the Glane Regent. “Do something with her, please.”

“Very well,” the Regent said, stepping forward. He jabbed a thornless finger at her with some peculiar device that released a small spark. Before she had a chance to enquire about his absence of thorns she had already slumped unconscious. The Regent’s guard scooped her up and the four of them vanished in a blue flash. When she awoke a few lapses later, in her Knifestar, the Regent was sitting at her side. The Kolda-rian stood a respectful distance away.

Alderhin rubbed her eyes and sat up on her familiar couch. She realised they were on board her knifestar, and it felt as though the vessel was moving.

“Regent, I do not understand what is going on here.”

“I am certain that is correct. There is very little we can tell you. We will soon be in interstellar space, not far from Octaladon, and will rendezvous with a small fleet of Knifestars. You will command. You will attack Aurora with a special weapon installed on your Knifestar. Only that weapon, no other. We will show you. There is a crew available to you; Chagarn, Qulsat and Gengorth. They will follow your orders, however if you try to depart from our orders they will kill you, since they answer to me only.”

“I understand none of this. You have no thorns, you work with a Galaxymbiont who wants me to attack Gurss also. This is some trick. Galaxymbionts would never work with our kind, nor we with them. Prove to me you are my Regent.”

“As you wish; Telek Jarn SHkerek Drevel Prontar, Syhe Alderhin.”

She bowed her head. “Of course, Regent. I obey.” She stood, saluted and walked briskly to the forward command room to meet her crew.

The Regent stood and faced Rilmuta. “Are you certain she will abide by my orders?”

“Why do you doubt that?”

“Because, friend Kolda-rian, she is of a different time and a different destiny. It will be difficult for her to continue following this plan if she realises that your time weapon won’t actually kill Gurss. Besides, she already questions the absence of thorns on my skin. She will never understand why a Regent would give up his thorns. She will doubt me especially.”

“Possibly, though she seemed rather compliant just now when you spoke to her. What did you say?”

“I told her that I would dissect her alive if she refused to obey. Don’t worry, Rilmuta, I won’t actually descend to such barbarism as my insane predecessors committed. Of course, she does not know that.”

“In that case, we should transfer to your own cruiser at the rendezvous and let her get on with it. Then I can proceed with my next task. You, my friend, will be able to return home and amuse yourself checking that history is appropriately adjusted.”

“Of course,” the Glane Regent laughed. “Who would have thought it? Glanes and Galaxymbionts being friends. Worry not, she will never know the exact truth about your temporal weapon, this attack on Aurora or what is really happening. You are certain that the device will do everything that is required of it? I never understand Galaxymbion technology and science.”

“If it doesn’t work then all existence is potentially doomed. It has to work, Regent Torgrath. Are your people reliable?”

“Chagarn, Qulsat and Gengorth will ensure she does not betray us. I am glad your PDC rescued Gurss from his original fate on Kolda-ra. Out of curiosity, exactly what is your next task? That glowsnake of yours is hard to follow. What’s its name?”

“Waon.”

“That’s it. Waon. Always so vague. Talks in riddles, when it decides to talk. Don’t understand half the stuff it comes out with. I hope its Brethren know what they are doing, orchestrating all these temporal repairs. Suppose they get something wrong and make it worse? As I – humble Regent of Gelaymer - understand it, fiddling around with spatial and dimensional ruptures can lead to unforeseen paradoxes.”

“Then, my dear friend Torgrath, we may all be doomed a great deal faster or a good deal worse than we imagined.”

“Hmmm. Has there been any news of your father?”

Rilmuta dipped his forehead a little. “As far as history records it he died on Thesa X. The Thesa-xians say they recovered his body with some sort of temporal parasite. He was spirited away from their quarantine hospital by an unidentified stranger. However, the Event Recorder of their Aldebaran 5 showed the whole area around Mirek vaporised and flattened, which is what you would expect. Survival in such a situation would seem impossible. Since then nobody has seen or heard from my father, and no historical records of him, that we have, are altered in any way. If he is still alive, running various missions for The Brethren, he must be somewhere or somewhen not accessible to us. Clearly he is unable to correct galactic history at present.”

“That is most unfortunate. I never met him though, judging by his son, he was quite an exceptional individual. He had a special destiny.”

Rilmuta patted the thornless thornid on his left shoulder. “Indeed, he did. Thank you.”

Aramek Skane continued to descend the well-lit circular stone staircase to The Vault. She had been here only once before, to answer a summons from the Triumvirate of Kolda-ra. That had been twenty orbits ago, when her husband Mirek Taro disappeared and she was asked to take an oath of secrecy. Today she had a very different reason for being here. Viceroy Coroma Arlon of the Tirian Congress and Planetary Viceroy Tarosa Salddari required her attendance on a matter of galactic importance. She guessed that this was connected with the wider Temporal Crisis, not necessarily her husband’s role in causal anomalies. She expected to see both Viceroys and nobody else.

Alighting on a level stone floor deep within The Pasakra Mountain Range, Western Roshlamo, she walked through a grand archway and into a magnificent chamber absolutely devoid of technology. Like many Triumvirates the Kolda-rian supreme authority preferred to interact directly with reality, not through devices. However, rather unusually, they never had assistants or staff on duty, preferring to handle all matters directly themselves. The chamber, its walls lined with elaborate carved wood and stone, was massive enough to house twenty Aldebaran 9s. Yet it was empty; no furnishings, no devices, no paintings or sculptures and no staff. As was her people’s custom she walked to the chamber’s centre and waited to be ‘collected’.

From behind and to her right she heard footsteps. The gait and heaviness suggested a man. Had Aramek been in any other location she would have used her psychic senses to ascertain his identity; here in The Vault there was an etiquette against this. Only the Triumvirate could employ extrasensory acuity in their realm. Only two millirecules away the steps ceased.

“I am pleased to see you, Corpus Prefect Skane. I am Tarosa Salddari. We seem to make a habit of attending Triumvirates simultaneously, though on Albascade we were not formally introduced. Please turn and follow me.”

She did so, noticing that he carried a hand laser. That was odd in itself.

“Indeed,” he thought back to her. “Don’t be alarmed by my use of telepathy; although this is considered discourteous in our society and forbidden in The Vault, during times of extreme uncertainty or urgency our Triumvirate can lift that restriction. There is also no imperative for you to remain telepathically silent. It was not my intention to scan your mind; your thought was rather strong. You will see the reason for the weapon soon.”

“Devices are forbidden in The Vault. I suppose that prohibition has also been relaxed, otherwise how can it be acceptable for you to carry a powered firearm here, of all places?”

They were now in a large tunnel, well-lit, and descending on a mild gradient. Up ahead was a small semi-circular chamber large enough only to accommodate ten people at maximum. Various Alarni’i artefacts lined that chamber’s grey-green walls, and light was from huge candles. Shadows flickered spiritual dances across walls and floor; her question remained unanswered.

“Wait here please, Corpus Prefect Skane.” The Viceroy walked over to the chamber’s occupants and conversed with them apparently telepathically. There was no sign of Coroma Arlon, and the Triumvirate remained with their cowls up, obscuring their faces in darkness and shadow, exactly as they had done twenty orbits ago. Tarosa Salddari returned to face the Tirian Prefect. “My apologies for a little subterfuge; you took an oath of secrecy in 2750. Are you still faithful to that oath?”

“Indeed, Viceroy Salddari. I hope I am not guilty of any careless transgressions in that respect.”

“We are not aware of any, Prefect Skane. That oath remains unrevoked, though, and applies to everything you witness here tonight. You must continue to uphold it. Now, if you will observe the stone wall panel to your right, please.”

A polyphony of yellow and orange resolved into a star. Fairly ordinary, by all accounts. What was unexpected was the presence of a device in The Vault, right here in the chamber, and obviously drawing information from a hidden computer.

“This is the Ledaran star, Aramek. Kolda-ra will soon be accepting registration of its first units from a fleet of Super Citadels, designated ‘Andromeda’. Most of them will be for evacuation, however one will journey to Ledara. Kolda-ra has been commissioned to share this responsibility with our FOUNDER ally, Ekria. Two Ekrian agents are already on Ledara, acting as its protectorate and preparing the way for our arrival. The Ekrian Planetary Custodianship have recently despatched their Andromeda to that world, being further away than we are. Our Triumvirate direct that you will command Andromeda Space Citadel K1, with a mainly Kolda-rian crew, and rendezvous with the Ekrians in deep space. Are you prepared for this responsibility, Aramek Skane?”

“I am prepared for all responsibility, I merely question why we journey to that primitive world. The Ledarans are a psychological mess; a race of confused, ill-harmonised, unstable creatures with a deranged penchant for conflict and murder.”

“Which is exactly why we must go there. We have invited a number of Vels to accompany the Ekrians on their Andromeda. Whilst both Super Citadels can create atmospheric masks to prevent detection, the Ekrian Protectorate will disable Ledaran scanning devices and weapons platforms. The Vels can interrupt hostile emotions in primitives, significantly reducing their capacity for violence.” The picture of a star dimmed and then switched smoothly to an aerial map of the Ledaran system. “The human’s home-world is third out. Their solar system is a beautiful one with seven sister planets, yet not quite extraordinary. Ledara’s controlling species has gained only a shameful mockery of civilisation; they prey upon all other life around them, and even that is insufficient so then they prey upon themselves. You will also have a Vel Event Squadron on your Andromeda.”

“I understand, Planetary Viceroy. A question, if acceptable. You have chosen me to command this super citadel. I have never commanded an Orion class citadel, so am curious how you or the Triumvirate (she glanced in their direction) can justifiably consider me qualified to command an Andromeda class vessel.”

At this the central member of the Triumvirate – clearly the First - stood forward and lowered her cloak hood. “We know you as a senior Prefect of the Tirian Citadel; that is an Orion citadel, Aramek Skane. When was the last time it participated in evacuation drills? Seven orbits ago, I recall. Surely, my friend, you have not forgotten in such a short time how we build our planetary citadels with Orions? You will be a fine commander. That is all we need to know.”

Aramek took a step back, rather surprised. “Viceroy Arlon? How can this be? Triumvirs do not hold public office.”

“Such is generally our Galaxymbion’s way, yet there is no rule preventing this, Prefect Skane. We chose you for Andromeda because your experience during your student days was unique and your record as Tirian Prefect has been exemplary. You know and understand Mirek Taro well yet, regardless of your feelings, keep to your oath. Your psi-rating is excellent and you have established yourself as an expert on human customs, language and history. The Triumvirate has the utmost faith in your expertise and judgement. Three Triumvirs will journey incognito with you; they will direct the transformation whilst you ensure both Super Citadel’s peaceful insertion into the Ledaran atmosphere, in high altitude polar orbits. It is your primary responsibility that there are no casualties, even amongst the barbaric primitives of that race.”

“Viceroy Arlon, I will serve with honour and strength as best I can. I must know what suddenly prompted this visit to that crazy world, and exactly what we intend to do when we arrive there.”

At this point the Triumvirate ‘Second’, remaining where they were, lowered their cowl. It was another surprise for Aramek.

“Your husband, Mirek Taro, is the best person to answer your question. Unfortunately he is a little silent right now.”

“Commanding Admiral Huwain Navin? I suppose your Third is going to be Admissions Prefect Gaxani Toruva?” The third bowed their head in confession. “I will not divulge your identities to anyone. Please tell me how my husband has anything to do with the tasks we intend to accomplish on Ledara.”

Viceroy Salddari indicated the wall where the viewing screen had been. “You will see now, Aramek Skane.” The wall dissolved: obviously some form of energy projection. An adjacent chamber was revealed – no door between them. There, on a medical couch, lay Mirek Taro, his skin burned but obviously healing. Attached to his middle section was a large irregular white blemish of alien material. A quarantine shield separated him from the outside world whilst bio monitors kept track of events within his body and mind. To his couch’s left a senior physician and nurse studied information on a portable. To his right three serpentine apparitions hovered – Kytonian glowsnakes.

“Allow us to introduce you, Prefect Skane. Physician Andrak and nurse Pelora. On the right Weethis, Noothis and Flaze of The Brethren. Your thoughts betray you; you cannot touch Mirek whilst the parasitical organism is still connected.”

“What is it? What exactly happened to my husband, to Rilmuta’s father?”

“Since we are unable to communicate with Mirek directly, that is uncertain. However, he is broadcasting significantly in psionic ranges. Your husband has been involved in some interesting adventures – missions for The Brethren. He has been instrumental in correcting causal anomalies and recovering vital information. The attachment of this parasite is part of that. You see, Aramek, that your husband is alive; if you study the monitors his bio readings strengthen by the second, whilst the parasite dies.

“Ever since his initial disappearance on Kytonia he has shifted to different time frames to repair fractures and causality deviations. The existence of Rilmuta Skane was essential to correct Kolda-rian destiny; The Brethren knew that Rilmuta could only be son to you and Aramek, and that his existence would only come about if you in 2741 met Mirek from 2770. Once Rilmuta was conceived Mirek was needed to recover a lost Belvandaran probe in 2796 and return it to the Galaxymbion in this time frame. That probe contains crucial data concerning the Temporal Crisis.

“After that Mirek was sent to 2785, location Thesa X. There he spent two orbits before recovering startling information concerning that world’s imminent future. In little more than a decorb there will occur near Thesa X’s moon, Sirantiga, a monumental cataclysm that will lay waste to half the planet, knock Sirantiga out of its satellite trajectory and decimate that world’s living biosphere, causing the deaths of thirteen point two nine million people in the process. We can now avert that disaster also. More importantly, however, in 2787 Mirek and his Thesa-xian colleagues encounter an anomalous Ledaran deep space vessel from about fourteen orbits further in their future. In that vessel will be two dead humans and at least three parasites, one of which is currently attached to him. These are temporal parasites, Miss Skane. Theoretically there should be no biological defence against them. Yet Mirek lives and the parasite dies. Your husband is rather unique, which is why The Brethren enlisted his help. Weethis, if you please.”

One glowsnake hovered forward; no eyes, nonetheless it was definitely looking at Aramek Skane. No mouth, yet it spoke for all to hear. Psionic broadcast. “Be not afraid, Prefect Skane. It is I who must fear yet tell you truth is all that can be. We in The Brethren know much about this Chronological Crisis. Nothing will survive if its virus continues to rip causal logic apart. The Brethren learned of it some time ago; we tried to heal it ourselves. Yet continue did such chaos. Not even the Web of Kalmek remained untarnished by its randomness and decay.

“Virus it is indeed, Prefect Skane. We learn much from the specimen attached to your husband, and how he fights it. You see, your husband is fused with his Niva. It is a symbiotic partnership. Kolda-rian Nivas were never legend; they were always real. In your world’s ancient history a Quelae vessel landed in Iloa in unusual circumstances. Another sequential malady, for even as we speak that vessel has only recently been approved for construction.”

“Nightspear,” Aramek whispered, astonished. “We were informed of its creation in recent session of our Inner Sanctum.”

“Indeed, Prefect Skane,” Weethis continued. “The incident Nightspear is involved in coincides with Mirek’s rescue of the Belvandaran probe; your time frame 2796. Nightspear is thrown into the past by a displacement of roughly 42912 orbits, along with a portion of atmosphere from an ice giant you call Falda. That world has a highly evolved relative of The Brethren living within its atmosphere. The Nivas. Our Brethren is one of four cousins to those sentient ergoforms from Falda. To survive in your world’s past, they are forced into symbiotic relationship with your ancient ancestors.

“So were born Alarni’i mystics. Twenty thousand orbits later those Nivas became able to separate from their Kolda-rian hosts and live autonomously in your clouds as they once lived in Falda’s near future. The legend dies – ascribed by your people to the inevitable psychological progress of your species. There are three relatives of Faldan Nivas, apart from The Brethren which settled on Kytonia. The peaceful Rinx journeyed to Elvakay; in 2796 a Belvandaran probe arrives there, and Mirek will recover it. The Rinx enable him and his Niva to grow mighty together. Our other two species are deeply shameful for us.

“They are primitive ancestors; factions of Letungexeva. One is a virus artificially designed for destruction which refused to evolve or lose its savagery. A mindless parasitical creation that indiscriminately attacks anything, similar to the parasite attached to Mirek. The other is far more complex, powerful and dangerous; ribbon snakes called the Elix or Time Guardians. These are still travelling through time and will ultimately settle on Braagan. Elix are always expelled from Falda for insubordination and seditious instincts. Both factions of Letungexeva - that mindless virus and the Elix - are our parasitical origin; degenerate and insidious, savage and vicious. There were two worlds where they thrived unnoticed and unchallenged, camouflaged easily alongside the insane controlling species, without even having to assimilate them to cause temporal chaos. Gelaymer and Ledara. They have no name and take many forms on those two worlds, usually viral. However, since they thrive on chaotic thought, aggression, hatred, fear, madness, stupidity and irreverence to others, they often reside in depraved humans and Glanes whose aggression and stupidity are of the lowest order. There they form a dark symbiosis that breeds success, for each has almost no mind of its own, and no honour to speak of.”

“Now I see why we must go to Ledara,” Aramek said, thoughtfully. “Reasoned intelligence must replace chaos. Forgive me, Weethis, I have further questions. How can correcting abhorrent Letungexeva offshoots help us with the Temporal Crisis?”

“It is simply this, Prefect Skane. Space has three dimensions necessary to hold substance together. Substance, the zero dimension, is thus dependent on the Triangulus of the spatial dimension for its existence and both those dimensions depend in a similar way upon time. As you know Time is the highest physical dimension, the fourth or squared quadratic level of existence, and the first spiritual or ethereal dimension. Yet existence ultimately achieves a fifth dimension, one beyond time. Usually this occurs through structures we recognise as biological. Living entities that attain consciousness. Such structures vary in form, presentation and motivation. Together, though, physical life exists at the lowest stratum of this fifth dimension. Our Brethren communicate through the highest stratum, an ethereal cosmic network called The Web of Kalmek. All other dimensions depend upon it for their cohesion and direction.”

Aramek’s eyes widened. “When our Photocosm formed it was without order. Order evolved, then life housed order in its most complex incarnations; thought became manifest. In time, pockets of chaos infected thought; this unruly weakness grew, became self-destructive arrogance. Thought, fractured by its dissenting elements, disassociated from nurturing reality. This epidemic decay continued, multiplied and spread. Eventually it could no longer be contained within the fifth dimension. Thought ruptured, sporadically infecting the next dimension down. Hence, time’s fabric collapses due to chaotic thought.”

“Exactly,” Coroma Arlon acknowledged. “If we are to prevent the Universe from destroying itself dimension by dimension we must disrupt the cascade. First task is to cure species whose thoughts are sick, at variance with purity and reason; their combined discord is a cancer fuelling this Temporal Crisis, eroding the sanctity of true consciousness and exerting undue pressure on Time’s fabric. That future Belvandaran probe will acquire at the edge of our galaxy conclusive proof that this cancer afflicts Andromeda also. It is most likely that all galaxies harbour similar cancers. Purging our galaxy of chaotic consciousness we will have a strong platform from which to cure all of existence. The ITU has already made contact with The Web of Kalmek and its knowledge and understanding have been pivotal in determining what must be done to cure the universe.”

“Can we cure all galaxies? Are we ready to be God?”

“Pulsewave physics, Aramek; imbalances in one fundamental spread to others across adjacent Pulsewaves. The stabilising equations of existence are breaking down and need to be reset the same way; by cascade. We are not being God, we are merely curing the incompetence of beings who thought and think of themselves as God. The Creators; part of the bundled equations operating at the heart of existence.”