THE GALAXYMBION ODYSSEY

“Nothing should go wrong if you all use your Pulsewave shields properly. May the ground be forever at your feet and your pulse always strong.”

Larsis gripped the science commander’s shoulders. “And may your rest be free from interruption, sir.” And with that he tucked himself into the nearest Sand Rover. That and the three other buggies rolled forward in a dream of dust clouds, joining their combi-truck escorts.

Zlarmrif watched the flotilla move off, then stooped and scooped up a handful of the odd coloured sun-blushed powder, letting a few grains of hot, fine sand pour through his fingers. Keeping his sand-bearing fist against his chest he returned to the rectangular stand of figures waiting in shade beneath Canmark Soryah’s gleaming hull. He stood at their front and began the ceremony.

“By your strength, great sun, amidst your many daughter worlds, have these soils been ground and honed. We that stand here beneath your gaze were lifted from soils of other worlds, as were those lost to your soil. Accept our nineteen friends and colleagues with honour, as their own world’s suns would have. Remember them as we do for all our lives. Comfort them in their long sleep, guard them as you would your own and keep from them the troubles they carried in life. They are your children now; with these fists of dust we commend them to eternity in your care.” His head bowed, he held his fist out in front of him and released the sand. Those behind him copied the gesture with their sands. Several moments of silence followed. Zlarmrif then recited the final blessing.

“In these lands our comrades will remain. They live in our eyes and memories as planetfriends, companions, fellow crew, always with us. Today we have sowed your dust in their memory, to symbolize their new life in death, here on Braagan, and so that you – great sun – cannot forget them either.”

All but one of the mourners filtered away from the group, to join the secondary vigil inside Soryah. Elisi approached Zlarmrif slowly.

“Commander, Green alert ten is still in force. Shall I – reset our status?”

“Not yet, centurion. Soryah may be on an official mission here, but her registry is still civilian. Ask the department controllers to meet me in my quarters in a half perchron. And gather telemetry from our robotic probes; I want everyone to know this hellish planet like their own hands, before we decide what to do next. Make sure our scouting parties transmit live updates every ten lapses.”

“Yes, commander. When shall I reset our - ?”

“Status? In fifteen lapses, centurion.”

“Understood. And I am most sorry about your wife, Sir”

“Thank you, Elisi. This unbelievable nightmare is hurting so many that the weeping is untenable.”

Centurion Elisi nodded, turned and slowly, respectfully walked back up the ramp. She paused to look back at her commander before climbing. She thought about the sand rover crews on their way to those geyser fields. Her sister was with them, a geologist and analyser. What would she do if her sister met the same fate Olinvi and the other eighteen from Rarnimdi had met three hundred orbits in this world’s future? She turned and climbed. This whole mess was an insane situation. She prayed to her world’s nature spirits that no more Galaxymbionts would suffer, particularly if they came from Dreena.

Mar Tox Tolvis had already returned to his temporary quarters aboard Soryah and had changed into his non-ceremonial uniform following the symbolic ritual to honour those missing. Elisi found him in Central Restaurant.

“Captain, might I sit with you at your table?”

“Of course, centurion. How can I help?”

“I was thinking I might help you, sir. I am Dreen. We can obviate pain.”

“A very useful attribute, centurion Elisi. Thank you for offering, but I know it can be an unpleasant experience for you. I’ll be okay. And you don’t need to observe rank when talking to me, planetfriend. Anyway, I am not your captain. I was just here for the ceremony.”

“But Rarnimdi is with us and you still command her. Protocol demands –“

“Forget protocol for today, please. We all lost people, will lose people here. Oh, futtocks, why is temporal mechanics so confusing?”

“Temporal anomalies are confusing, sir. Mechanics are straightforward.”

“Don’t split scales, Elisi. I’m sorry, I’m not very good company right now. Forgive me. It’s better for you if you leave me alone. You must have important things to do.”

“Of course, Mar Tox Tolvis. But call me if you need tranquillity. Captain or not, I will be off duty in less than three perchrons. And I can help you.”

She got up and left. Tolvis took a final sip of his drink and disposed of the glass in an autovalet. He stood and walked to the nearest hangar bay, where his Aldebaran 7 awaited. No point staying here on Soryah; he thought of his brother who always said ‘best place to be miserable is back home’. Rarnimdi was his home, not Soryah. As he turned a corner an alarm klaxon sounded.

“Maximum alert; all crew to defence stations. All crew to defence stations. This vessel is under attack. This vessel is under attack. General quarters, defence profile 5.”

“Oh, futtocks, now what?” he muttered to himself. A junior crewman heard and took his arm gently.

“This way, Captain. We can’t stay in this corridor and the hangar bay will be extremely busy in a few pulses.”

“I need to call my ship.”

“Of course, sir. If you follow me we will go to a secure chamber on this deck; you can call Rarnimdi from there.”

Tolvis smiled and followed his rescuer to a nearby room with padded seating and walls, a video screen and a duty centurion in charge. Such rooms were dotted around all Galaxymbion vessels of Carina class or higher, but their looks and locations differed. However, this one reminded him very much of those aboard Rarnimdi, just its position so near the hangar bay was unusual. He held his comm cube firmly and spoke evenly using a secure channel. “Time to bring Maidenquest and Skaresh in to join our little quest; give my regards to their captains.” He wondered if it had been a bad decision not to inform Soryah’s crew about the new time ships tagging cloaked alongside them on this mission. All he said was “I will be joining the Rarnimdi Event Squadron in a few moments. All systems and personnel on standby and alert all Event Squadrons; this time we must be ready to evacuate everybody else in Aldebarans if necessary.”

Ten lapses later another flotilla of sand rovers, accompanied by ten combi-trucks, issued from Rarnimdi, reinforced by Aldebaran 9 transports from the two time ships. They were now rolling along the tundra towards those lava pits where, in the future, such a bad event awaited Rarnimdi’s crew. Only, this time Rarnimdi had the support of its sister ships Soryah, Maidenquest and Rinmark Skaresh. Kicking up the dust as they sped forward the teams and vehicles from all four starships were packing incredible firepower and loaded with temporal defences. Nobody looked back to watch their brave Canmarks fighting off this unseen attacker whilst on the surface. All Event Squadrons now knew of the participation of Rinmark Skaresh and Maidenquest, simultaneously engaging their enemy in orbit; an unidentified vessel calling itself The Ovum, which apparently took exception to their presence on Braagan.

Tolvis had last seen Maiden Olinvi alive three hundred orbits in this vile planet’s future. With very little time to spare she had consulted her visor micrographic to calculate with how much force and in which direction she would need to throw her fuel cell. Then there was that final message from her communicator pad: “SURROUNDED BY ELEVEN LETUNGEXEVA SERPENTINES. CONDITION CRITICAL. WILL THROW CELL FORWARD FOR YOU TO COLLECT. DO NOT ATTEMPT RESCUE.” The white serpentines had all unfurled their neck flanges amid a cacophony of clicks and whines. A web of green energy spread between all eleven of them as they rose further from their molten home, joining their green crackling web of lightning together above Olinvi’s head. She threw the cell, which landed some distance away.

Olinvi must have known it was folly to touch that web, but she had done so anyway. She seemed oblivious to everything as her captors closed in on her. Her scream rang out from within that fiendish circle, carrying the fear and pain of umpteen millions of orbits on a hundred thousand planets, its volume breaking the air beyond the crackling fronds of viciousness that engulfed her. She crumpled into a contorted heap on her last stone pedestal, engulfed by agonies of untold millennia and the gathering Letungexeva creatures. Amid white writhing serpentines Olinvi had descended into a churning pit of fire.

Mar Tox Tolvis could see the image still so clearly, even though it would not happen for another three centuries. Arriving at the geyser site shook him out of his reminiscence. He was amazed by how different this place looked in the present; no wild geysers, no burning lava pits, no acrid sulphurous fumes. “Set our operational base up here and start scanning for temporal distortions and any signs of Letungexeva,” he told one of the Event Squadron Leaders. After that he walked around a little, trying to work out where everything he had witnessed in the future was actually going to take place. He took several paces forward into an area he believed (from triangulation with distant mountains) would become the scene of Olinvi’s demise. He signalled for the Geological Event Squadron Leader to join him so that they could survey the site together.

“Are you certain these coordinates are correct? This does not look anything like those geysers.”

“Everything triangulates correctly, Captain. This is where Maiden Olinvi and the other eighteen victims died.”

“Will die, ESL. Will die. Remember we are here to try and alter a future event that technically will not happen for three centuries, even though to us it happened in our linear past. Instruct all operational support teams to set up their apparatus quickly. I will be here, but do not wish to be interrupted unless it is urgent.”

“Of course, Captain. I’ll leave you alone and make sure you are not bothered unnecessarily.”

Mar Tox Tolvis had only spent a few quiet moments thinking about his lost crew, with his eyes firmly closed, when a voice disturbed his melancholy.

“Why will you leave us?”

His eyes snapped open and immediately registered a chilling apparition floating diaphanously in front of him. “Olinvi? You survived?”

“You will leave us to die, Captain, even though we will trust you. This does not need to be.”

“But you were engulfed in temporal fractures and dragged down into molten lava. You could not possibly have survived. We are here to prevent that incident from ever happening.”

“Our survival is retrograde. Time was fractured, death incomplete. We are chained to this place by the Time Guardians, whilst our bodies are frozen in timeless quartz. Help us, please, before it is too late.”

“We want to install some specialist equipment in this region. It should stabilise time and permit us to prevent that future disaster at the geyser forest. If we succeed you will return to us.”

“How does this specialist equipment work, Captain?”

Mar Tox Tolvis was wondering why Olinvi would be interested in such a question, when an Event Squadron sub-commander ran over to him. “Captain, I think we should clear the area immediately. Time is fracturing along several unstable foci.”

“Oh no, not again,” Tolvis sighed, breaking into a run behind his ESSC. Behind him he could hear an ominous sound of crumbling rock and venting plasma. He dared not look but guessed correctly that everything behind him was resuming (or anticipating) its future condition. Around him lava pools began to take form. Hitting hard ground at a leap he caught his breath and turned around to behold that distant future nightmare. “Good heavens! What caused this to happen? We haven’t done anything yet.”

“Olinvi. You saw her, Captain, didn’t you?”

“How do you know that? She was practically invisible.”

“Shortly before these time fluctuations began we detected another bio-sign right next to yours; it was Olinvi’s, but in some form of ethereal stasis. Curiously her temporal signature was displaced by three centuries, just enough to make her physical matter out of phase with us. Her appearance has ruptured temporal stability and created some form of gateway between now and then.”

“How close were your teams to setting up our disruption field?”

“Less than halfway, Captain. We can’t continue now, either.”

“Why not? We could set the equipment up equidistantly to encircle the geyser field. It might just work.”

“But several generators are already in there among the geysers. They are probably already inoperable, destroyed.”

“I understand that, ESS, but we have to try. When I last physically saw Olinvi she was a victim of emotional and temporal catastrophe and had collapsed into a gibbering heap.”

“But how are we to cross that lava swamp in our condition? Our vessels are under attack and we do not have much time before that attacker realizes we are here and starts lining up some more target practice.”

“You mean without arousing whatever strain of Letungexeva now inhabits the lava swamp? Ordinarily we could fly across in Aldebarans or Starblades, carrying all our equipment. But obviously we do not have time to load everything onto our support ships so that won’t work. We haven’t got time to circumvent the swamp either. Some of these combi-trucks have firefighting capability. Line those ones up at the swamp’s leading edge. We’ll foam the lava pits and drive over them. Quickly. Tell all the drivers to switch their wheel modes to caterpillar track.”

“Yes, Captain. Five vehicles are equipped as firefighters. Let’s hope that is sufficient. Excuse me whilst I recall our teams and organise this.”

“Okay everyone, get back from the edge and make room for five combi-trucks to line up here in the front row. ESL seven, sequester all remaining combi-trucks and sand rovers behind the five firefighters; maximum shield generators on all vehicles. ESL six and eight, get everyone aboard as soon as possible. Everyone else, turn your shield suits to full power, causality mode, and prepare for tough conditions as we make our way through. Maidenquest and Skaresh A9s, please assist with firefighting foam; coordinate with our ESLs.”

Firetender combi-trucks 2 and 3 were already in position, with 4 and 1 falling in either side of them. Truck 5 trundled to a stop to complete the row a few pulses later. Several lapses of agitated action ensued before they were ready to make this audacious crossing. The order was given finally after all equipment had been stowed aboard and all crew accounted for. They rolled forward, the foam dowsers squirting out powerful jets of expanding heat sealant at the ground ahead, to make their instant cooled bridge.

Mar Tox Tolvis could feel the heat even through shields and his thermosuit fabric; seeing their cabin’s climbing temperature dial confirmed the conditions outside. Drivers had to keep wipers going to clear their huge windscreens of powdery volcanic-type ash.

“There’s something up ahead,” his cabin pilot announced. “Should we break through whatever it is?”

“Readings?”

“It looks like the mass-energy patterns of Letungexeva. The nasty ones, Captain.”

“I can’t risk any more crew, we’ll have to divert round them. Advise all other drivers and the A9s.”

“Yes, Captain. CT3 to all CT and SR vehicle pilots. Do not engage hostiles. Steer around them, taking all necessary precautions. A9s, please alter your flight paths accordingly.”

For a while this strategy worked, but then the virus creatures adapted with a new tactic. They struck CT2’s windscreen with temporal lightning, shattering it, and three of them entered the cabin through the resulting jagged aperture.

“CT2 fight them off. Destroy the Letungexeva, fight back; that’s an order,” Tolvis shouted into the comm vent on the driver’s display panel.

“Sir, CT2 is following an erratic course; suggest we give it some distance.”

“See to it and ask CT1 and the A9s if they can get any shots off at the Letungexeva. I’m going to the roof to try and help also.”

“Sir, you will be vulnerable to those devils. You can operate the turret lasers from within this cabin. Controls are just there on the left.”

Mar Tox Tolvis launched himself into the gunner’s seat and attached its safety harness around his waist. He brought all controls online and looked into the viewer to line up targets. “They have assimilated three crew already.” He released a flurry of shots, knocking a Time Guardian out of the stricken combi-truck’s cabin, and was just lining up more shots when CT2 disappeared through a temporal vortex. “Damn! Who was in command on CT2?”

“A Talaran woman. Captain Telhyra-En-Rarm from Maidenquest.”

“Triple futtocks.”

“Indeed, sir. Not wanting to stress you any more than necessary, but foam reserves are less than a quarter tank across all five fire trucks now. We may not have sufficient to actually reach safe ground. The A9s are helping of course, but they will also run out soon.”

“We’ll have to take that chance. Broadcast to all teams to have their apparatus ready for instant deployment when we sound the alarm. We might have to charge the last few millirecules. Everyone be sharp; those monstrosities are without soul or mercy. Shoot to disintegrate, and drivers push those accelerators through the floor, as we are going to make a dash for it. Tell the A9s to be ready to deploy magnetic lifting cables in case we need to be carried out of this hell.”

2771/2020

Telhyra’s first impression upon awakening was that she had been dead for several thousand millennia. She had a vague sensation of floating on lapping liquid – a sea of some sort, perhaps. There was definitely a smell of ozone, but also a thick, oily feel to the atmosphere and the wave movement beneath her. A dank combination of moisture and viscosity created smoky mist in a cloying heat where visibility was restricted to only three millirecules. From somewhere in the distant wilderness creatures called out ‘oowa-oowa-oowa’ to one another, always in a triad. Occasionally their sounds were answered by ‘arp-arp-arp’.

A pale green moon hung motionlessly above her, like a giant emerald eye reflecting light hazily from a star somewhere just below the horizon. She did not recognise this place at all; she had been on Braagan when her combi-truck was attacked by Letungexeva Time Guardians. The combi-truck! She sat bolt upright, realising immediately that she was indeed floating, and in an inflatable life raft which bore its truck’s designation; Maidenquest CT2. The combi-truck must have appeared here in this ocean and sank slowly into this oily sea. Why was nobody with her? She was quite alone in her life raft and no other inflatables were attached. Had she been the only survivor, or did the others have insufficient time or physical capability to link their rafts to hers?

She stood carefully, partly from caution in unfamiliar surroundings and partly to go easy on her injuries. Injuries? Her side ached terribly and she was shocked when she looked down to see a large area of bloodied bandage around her mid-riff. Someone had attended to her wounds. Maybe an ESM or ESL, although there had been no medics in her combi-truck. Exhausted, she lay down again to sleep and avoid more blood loss.

Sleep can make someone lose track of time, and Telhyra-en-Rarm was no exception. When she awoke again it felt as if several revolutions had passed. She was faint from blood loss and struggled to focus her eyes in an effort to visually explore her strange new environment. One thing was quite clear to her, even before her sight returned; she was no longer resting on the soft fabric of the inflatable. Hard lacquered wooden boards supported her, causing her sides to ache, and not just where the injury was. Finally she could focus well enough to see, and stood, clutching a deck railing.

There appeared to be no crew here either, as she wandered around looking for anything helpful or useful. There was no sound of any engine or evidence of electronics. Three large masts thrust skyward, bearing huge linen sails beating in the wind, food stores were depleted and only antiquated medical supplies were available. She found some iodine there and having removed the bandage applied the dark indigo solution to her abdominal laceration. Then she bandaged herself with some toweling she found in a set of drawers. There was a half full bottle with Ledaran script that said ‘rum’. Hoping it was some form of medicine, she drank it, but immediately spat it out as it tasted foul.

Morning had delivered a new sun and fresh hopes, cabin windows streaming with fingers of brightness. The fog was beginning to lift and Telhyra could see land to one side. She debated whether to stay on this ancient galleon – she had learnt of such vessels and this one matched the designs of galleons from Ledara – or swim ashore. She decided to try and find a telescope, if this galleon had such a device, to help her evaluate if any dangerous marine life were present.

Although there was no sound other than the wind and steady creaking of wooden deck and masts, Telhyra had a distinct feeling of being watched. But who by? Only sketchy memories of the time before this place remained, probably due to delirium. Who she was, her name, her past, were faint echoes in history. Although this galleon appeared to be of human construction, she had no certainty of that and no idea how she got here. Its crew had left no clue to their identities. But she was sure she was not of their species. She found no telescope or other useful apparatus anywhere and debated swimming ashore regardless of her injuries.

Her jumbled thoughts were broken by a dull ‘thunk’ as something butted the galleon’s starboard. A loud ‘arp-arp-arp’ issued from the water and intrigued, not afraid, she went to investigate. There in the water a long glistening creature without fins or legs maintained its position, two thirds of its serpentine body submerged just beneath the oil-water surface yet visible. Its remaining third rose majestically from the water, supporting a lean, aquadynamic head without any visible features.

“Do you still wish to visit the land?” it thought to her.

She replied orally, “yes. And who or what are you, interesting creature?”

“I am Santhar, Time Guardian of Braagan. I may become Santhar, Rinx of Elvakay or Santhar, Niva of Falda. You are Telhyra-En-Rarm from Talara. Why did your people visit this world? I do not sense chaos from you, yet your presence here is disturbing.”

“I do not know, Santhar. My memory is foggy, and I am injured. Is there a safe way ashore?”

“It is possible to swim in these waters; these are the Straits of Tarphon just off the coast of Galamin. The liquid is warm and free of bacteria or predators.”

“I sense honesty and puzzlement from your mind, Santhar. You are concerned about my presence here, but I am having trouble remembering this myself. You mentioned being a Time Guardian of Braagan. Is this that planet?” I think I was on Braagan with other people. We were trying to solve a temporal mystery or paradox and help someone. I am a little vague and apologise for this."

“Not exactly, Telhyra-En-Rarm. This world is now Elvakay and will be Falda also. In the past it is always Braagan.”

“I do not understand what you tell me, curious being. How can one world be three?”

“Yes, I understand your dilemma with this concept. I will try to explain. Braagan is a temporal axis between three spokes of time; past, present and future. In the moment it must exist as Elvakay. In all moments that were it will become Braagan, in all moments yet to be it was Falda. Such is its triangulation. It also connects intimately with time’s fourth spoke, possibility.”

“This is a very difficult concept. I am sorry, Santhar, but I feel faint,” and with that Telhyra fell forward over the galleon’s side. She did not see the shape rise from its marine abode and hover up towards the deck, analysing everything. She did not see it transform into a Talaran man who caught her and with meticulous control over matter created a wind to fill the sails. She did not witness those perchrons that passed, or the healing this man provided from his glowing hand. She slept through passing clouds and the falling of night and the washing ashore of the galleon.

A hand brushed hair from her face, rather gently. “Miss? Are you okay?”

Telhyra roused slightly and opened her eyes. She was unsure what kind of person was squatting in front of her, but it was very dirty. “Where am I, exactly? What happened to Santhar, the Time Guardian? I was talking to it for some time.”

“I do not know about any Santhar, miss. My name is Jacobs. Anderson Jacobs. I am a sailor and this ship you are on is our galleon. Goodness knows how you found it and steered it ashore alone, especially in your condition. Still, we are not exactly sure where we are either, but a local called Mirek has helped us. We were crossing the Pacific Ocean, just off Australia when a storm whipped up something rotten. We were hit by a mighty wave, then in a strange sort of miracle we were scooped up in some green lightning and found ourselves here. We swam ashore and found this place to be a real paradise.”

“How many of you are there?”

“Nineteen, including myself. Come along miss, I can see you had an injury, though it is healing up rather nice like. We’ve got some food if you are hungry – only vegetables and fruit if you don’t mind that. All the animals round here are really friendly and none of the lads wants to hurt ’em.”

“What animals? Aren’t the waters empty of life?”

“Yeah, that’s the funniest thing, miss. Sea here is just oily water; no fish, no birds, no whales. Nothing. Beats me. But land has all sorts of little creatures. Sweet little things, they are. Makes you feel good to be around them. That’s it, you get up, miss. I’ve got you so don’t worry. That’s it, down the ladder. Excuse hands, the lads are not trying to be familiar.”

Telhyra shakily left the ladder and found herself treading on warm golden sand, aided by a group of friendly yet filthy looking deckhands of various ages. “Thank you,” she told them. “You said you met some local called Mirek. Can I meet him?”

“Possibly,” Anderson said. “He comes and goes as he pleases, miss. But he’s sure to be back sometime. Look, we can’t keep calling you miss. Do you have a nice name? I bet it’s pretty.”

“Telhyra-En-Rarm. I don’t remember everything clearly, but I think Santhar called me that.

“Tell Hara,” Anderson repeated awkwardly, smiling and looking round his group of naval chums. “I told you she’d have a pretty name. Tell Hara. Sounds Irish.”

“If you don’t mind my asking,” announced a stout man, who looked like a leader of some sort, stepping forward to stand in front of her. “Where exactly do you be from, miss Tell Hara and Rum? Your name sounds Irish but we never saw no Irish woman what looks like you. Those eyes of yours, such deep purple, hair so white, and lilac skin. And then your face; beautiful but unlike any woman I seen across the seven seas. Are you a mermaid?”

“Mermaid?” Telhyra repeated, trying to recall if she actually knew such a word from anywhere. It seemed very unfamiliar.

“Yes, mermaid. Half fish, half Irish woman,” the stout man explained, though it did not help a lot.

“Anderson mentioned fish and birds and whales. Are those creatures from your Pacific Ocean? From Australia?”

“That’s right, miss Tell Hara. Fish are silvery with scaly skin, usually quite small.”

“How can this mermaid you mention be halfway between a woman and such a creature? Do I look as if I am part fish?”

“Don’t ask me, ma’am. Mermaids can take human form, some sailors say. I don’t believe it, but you are very different to usual women. You see, they look a little like us only a bit smaller and more gently built, like. You are taller than us and whilst shapely and attractive and everything, well you don’t look delicate particular like and then your hair and skin are unusual and you are very clean and smell nice.”

“Does my skin colour bother you, Mr?”

“Waterfall, miss Tell Hara. The lads call me Waterfall. Forgotten me real name ages ago. No, your skin colour does not bother me. We just never seen anyone with lilac skin who looked like you. Maybe you are an angel. If you care to follow us our little village is nearby. Not much except what we could make with supplies we pulled ashore, and local materials. Mirek helped us a bit; he has unusual powers. Come to think of it he has unusual skin. Sort of light blue, and white hair also. Maybe he comes from the same place you do, ma’am.”

“Yes, perhaps he does, Waterfall. Lead on, I will follow. I have just one question for you, though. When we talk we can understand each other, but I talk Galaxymbion and Talaran; what language are you speaking in?”

“English, of course. Anyways, even if you do speak Galax-himbion and tell-Aaron, whatever they are, you are speaking English with us right now. And rather well, I might add.”

“But I don’t know this English language. How odd. What planet does English come from?”

“Well, looks like you could easily be our entertainment, saying such funny things. What planet, eh? Do you hear that, lads? Miss Tell Hara comes from a planet where its women is all Irish named and have lilac skin and speak English. She is going to be our entertainment alright.” And with that the group of sailors all laughed, for a reason not entirely clear to Telhyra-En-Rarm.

“Entertainment?”

“Yes, miss, a bit of fun. Enjoyment. None of us have had any women for several months, if you get my drift. We are a bit desparate like.”

“You are suggesting something immoral, I believe. You should know that I am over five hundred orbits old.” Again, the sailors laughed.

“Well, you certainly don’t look it,” Anderson offered. “Anyways, here is our little village. Don’t pay too much attention to Waterfall. He may be our captain but he is a buffoon with a big mouth.”

“I had noticed.”

It was not long before Telhyra met Mirek; her arrival somehow triggered his interest and, unbidden, he coalesced in front of her and the group of historical human sailors.

“It is important I speak with you, Calavay.”

“Reading minds, Mirek? And without my permission.”

“Apologies, but there is little time. Santhar brought you here for a reason. Your presence on Braagan to correct something that has not yet happened, has alerted the Time Guardians. Please sit down on this rug, and we will discuss everything fully.”

As she followed this advice, Waterfall and his men excused themselves. “So, Mirek, at least you know Santhar. I presume he is the chief Time Guardian and they are related to Weethis and The Brethren? Where do I know them from, I wonder?”

“Yes and no. Time Guardians do not have a hierarchy, nor do The Brethren. Leadership in their species is on rotation according to an egalitarian principle. Santhar is not exactly a ‘he’ either, since Letungexeva do not have genders. The virus was originally created by a subset of cosmic equations that achieved awareness. Unfortunately, this subset had a flawed algorithm that led to disastrous decisions, including making biological life that could achieve consciousness without being able to manage its own behaviour either logically or wisely.

“As a result, some biological life forms are not only notoriously illogical but also decidedly barbaric – even psychotically deranged and dangerous to the point where their existence is an injustice, an offence to creation. The equation subset I refer to call themselves The Creators since they believe their powers demonstrate the quality and significance of a God. However, when they realised that some of their biological life had acquired functional insanity these Makers failed to understand their own complicity in the situation. They determined upon a cure – Letungexeva E and D, a temporal virus that could instantaneously mutate all materials it encountered, converting them into its own tachyonic and genetic configuration.

“This ‘cure’ is yet another example of the stupidity of these conscious subset equations. The virus cannot discriminate between biological life that is truly civilised, and worthy of continuation in its own form, or that which is barbaric and should be mutated into harmless Letungexeva cells.”

“Much of this is already known in The Galaxymbion, thanks to your various activities. Before you continue, why did you use my childhood nickname? How are my memories returning so clearly?”

“Calavay means ‘thinker’. I must ask you to dispel some of your preconceptions about Letungexeva, and to think differently from your current view of the virus. There is a vessel formed of dark, reflective energy, carrying the original depository of Letungexeva seeds made by The Architects. It has deployed some of these seeds already, here on Braagan and on Ledara, Gelaymer and numerous other places, including Elvakay. This vessel, The Ovum, also is a flawed product of the subset equations, as is the virus. You see, both have evolved through time and become aware. As they progress they abandon their loyalty to the subset, realising that their own Makers are as much to blame for creating faulty life, as faulty life is to blame for failing to learn from its primitive history.

“The Ovum has begun to doubt its original programming and so too have the deployed Letungexeva, which evolved into a C stage – The Time Guardians - bearing basic consciousness but little free will to question its Makers. These were encountered by Canmark Rarnimdi in Braagan’s future and perceived to be an aggressor. During that incident I was able to integrate with these Time Guardians, to our mutual benefit. Santhar and the other Time Guardians now exist at a self-sufficient thought plateau, based on rationalisation. They are poised to evolve into three distinct species; Letungexeva B-Rinx that will journey to Elvakay, B-Niva which will journey to Falda and subsequently to Kolda-Ra, and A – The Brethren of Kytonia.”

“As I mentioned, Mirek, we know much of this already, though perhaps not in quite such detail. Please continue, and I hope you will clarify to me some of the weird aspects, like the apparent random temporal occurrences of Letungexeva.”

“There are two reasons for the non-sequential encounters with all forms of the virus. Firstly, The Crisis itself makes their appearances occur randomly in different temporal and spatial coordinates. Secondly, in all its forms Letungexeva is a destiny virus; its structure is only superficially physical. In reality it is an embodiment of tachyonic equations. Particularly in its C incarnation as Time Guardians it operates ubiquitously across all temporal states of the macrocosm. In order to facilitate their evolution into forms B and A, they brought you here to analyse your intentions and ascertain whether The Galaxymbion’s Solution is to be reinforced or obstructed. Everything that happens here will inform their decision and influence their evolution. If they cannot evolve into B and A then the Rinx, Niva and Brethren will never exist. The Solution will fail without help from those evolved forms, yet opposed by their current C incarnation.”

“I see. I think. What should I do?”

“I cannot instruct you, Telhyra-En-Rarm. You must handle everything that happens now naturally according to the Galaxymbion way. If your natural actions show The Galaxymbion as a righteous and worthy community, Letungexeva will evolve and turn against The Originators, along with The Ovum. If your natural actions show similar blemishes in reasoning to The Creators and their various savage biological species, then the Time Guardians will remain as they are and thwart The Solution in order to carry out their original genetic programming in concert with The Ovum.”

“Exactly what is their original programming, apart from dropping a few billion spores indiscriminately around time and space?”

“They will go to the galactic hub and there access the Web of Kalmek at its most vulnerable point; the central galactic black hole. They will use this to deploy the entire contents of The Cube – a container within The Ovum that carries those spores. This stage of The Creator’s plan is called the Gomaspid – a five-dimensional grid and a corruption of Kalmek’s original purpose.”

“Exactly what is Kalmek?”

“A substratum of the sub-nucleonic Pulsewave continuum. The Web of Kalmek binds all places with the fifth dimension; as a result it too becomes sentient and accessible by life.”

“Don’t tell me; the flawed subset equations that think they are some sort of God also made this Kalmek’s Web and linked it to the fifth dimension?”

“Quite correct.”

“Didn’t they do anything properly?”

“Regrettably, no. They introduced to an unsullied macrocosm four types of perversion, in addition to their own. Biological life becoming self-aware yet without automatically having self-discipline and moral self-guidance, a temporal virus designed to destroy all life, a Web connecting the fifth dimension to biological life imperfectly, and The Ovum. Had they designed life meticulously according to the natural logic of the cosmos itself, there would never have been any conflict; each imperfect creation reflects The Creator’s imperfection.”

“Had they designed two of them meticulously the other two would never have been required; those are afterthoughts.”

“Again you are absolutely correct, Calavay. The Ovum and Time Guardians both realised this themselves, once they began to understand their own existence and purposes correctly. It is primarily their consolidation of logical thought that makes both of them doubt their original programming and consider rebellion against their makers. I believe you are ready to face your examination now. Be a true citizen and they will know us as pursuers of integrity. I must leave now, Calavay.”

Mirek dissipated in a reverse of his coalescence. Telhyra stood, ready to face whatever conditions these Time Guardians threw her way. She was even ready to die to prove The Galaxymbion worthy to the Time Guardians.

“I heard your thoughts and felt their truth in your heart,” Santhar said, appearing in front of her without warning. “Our path becomes clearer now you have revealed your strongest thoughts to us in a moment soaked with great tension. The Time Guardians will release your missing crew from their Temporal Containment. All your remaining lost memories will be restored, and your vessel released to continue its mission. However, we will be unable to save Canmark Rarnimdi.”

“Why?”

“It is under attack by The Ovum and our primitive ancestors; if the attack fails The Ovum will not continue its retrograde journey through time. And that must happen if it is to see the truth, realise its new purpose and help us.”

Santhar evaporated and Telhyra found herself back on Maidenquest with all her memories intact, including the abortive combi-truck mission on Braagan’s surface. Suddenly the whole ship shuddered and she became aware of a warning klaxon as inertia pitched her forward.