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| Generated by Google Workspace Labs text-to-image Duet AI software |
It always seemed like a lie that the reason Venus Opsocor wanted the team
to go to Worlon was because it was the safest place to be during this time
period. Perhaps what was happening now was what it was really all about,
and the team being here was all part of some grander plan. They spent all
day last year getting to now the Krekel, and understanding how they were
different from the Ochivari. Something happened in their past, which
transformed them from a race of regretful polluters bent on stopping
anyone from making the same mistakes they did, at all costs, to one of
compassionate and patient guides with ethical boundaries who only wanted
to help people. Unfortunately, the Ochivari were bulk travelers. Once they
left their home universe, they separated themselves from all of reality,
meaning that while the timeline could be altered, they would remain in
existence. Nothing could stop them from going on their crusade against
other intelligent races by sterilizing entire populations. The Ochivari
were not fighting their war in a traditional sense, with guns and bombs,
except when it came to the Krekel. That was a real war. And right
now, Team Matic was in the center of it.
The next day, when they returned to the timestream, they were invited to
breakfast again. The first time they did it, they were up on the
mothership in orbit. Now that a year had passed, the new capital of Worlon
was well underway, including the Capitol Building, which was where the
second breakfast banquet was taking place. Ellie Underhill wasn’t here
this time. This was to become a yearly thing apparently. The team’s
unexpected arrival was only a part of this new holiday. It was the part
that dictated when specifically it would be held. Worlon had a different
daily rotation, and a different solar revolution than Earth, but the
team’s pattern was tied to midnight central of the Earthan Standard
Calendar. This meant that Cadatora would be celebrated on a different day
each year on Worlon, kind of like Easter. That was where the humans’
contribution ended. The Krekel had their own reasons to celebrate their
peace and harmony, and these reasons were threatened by the sudden arrival
of a fleet of Ochivari ships a couple of months ago.
The Ochivari were violent by nature, but it was not an arbitrary
development. A long time ago, they realized that they were all
biologically capable of traveling the bulk. They didn’t need a machine.
They didn’t need an amazing technicolor dreamcoat. It was just something
that they could do. It came at a great cost. The whole process involved a
battle of chemicals, pheromones, and possibly psychic fortitude. That last
thing lived within an area of research that scientists were not completely
sure about. It also resulted in sacrifice. As these opposing forces
reached critical mass, they would literally explode, and the consequence
of this fight would be the sudden and fleeting opening of a portal to the
outer bulk in which all universes were suspended. If two Ochivari were
bulkbattling, one of them would die from this. The other would survive,
and usually be sucked into the portal, and transported to another world.
This was where the possible psychic energy came into play, because if they
did it right, the survivor went to the right world, instead of some random
planet, or the middle of empty space. They had to be fast, though, because
if they didn’t jump in right away, the portal would collapse before them,
and the whole thing would be a waste of time. The thing was, though, that
the greater the sacrifice, the larger the portal, and the longer it
lasted.
If three Ochvari came together to bulkbattle, two of them
would survive while one died. If five came together,
three would survive while two died. The total number of
attempters, number of sacrificers, and number of survivors each went up
exponentially according to the Fibonacci sequence. It was the most clear
evidence that this sequence was more than a series of numbers, but a
tangible physical phenomenon with real-world consequences. One of these
consequences was that Ochivari ships were incredibly rare. The size and
stability of the portal wasn’t actually based on the number of Ochivari
involved, but total mass. The higher the mass, the more voluminous the
pheromones and chemicals, the more stuff that could be used to fuel
transportation.
A battleship was a profoundly massive object, so the sacrifices required
to move it from one universe to another were equally profound. They
numbered in the tens of millions of people, but even then, there was a
catch, because the ship was a giant weapon flying through space, and that
would kill anyone upon impact. So even the survivors of the bulkbattle
generally ended up dying soon thereafter, because a ship would immediately
come barreling towards them in order to make it through the just opened
portal in time. It could last longer than smaller portals, but still not
indefinitely, and it
was possible for it to collapse while you were still trying to pass
through it.
Over 70 million should be an unacceptable loss by
anyone’s standards, especially since the reason they were fighting
was because the Krekel figured out how to do it without incurring
any loss. Instead of hating them for it, they should learn from
them. As it turned out, these sacrifices didn’t need to happen at all. The
winginsing that the orchestra of Nexus guards performed for them last year
wasn’t just a beautiful symphony of nature. When done in the right way,
using the right melody, and other mathematical precisions, it too could
open a bulk portal. Krekel portals were not any more stable than Ochivari
ones, but no one had to die to open them, even for those large enough to
accommodate ships.
The Krekel were at a huge advantage because of their alternate technique.
It made them nicer, peaceful, and more harmonious amongst each other. But
their
disadvantage...was that they were nicer and more peaceful than the
Ochivari, so when war came for them, they mostly lost. Until recently. In
response to the unprovoked attacks, the Krekel started building out their
own armies, training them with the lessons they had learned from those
early losses, and really fighting back. Their return to Worlon was not
just because they were homesick. This was a staging planet now, and the
Ochivari didn’t like that. That was why the fleet came here, and why they
were even angrier than usual, because the sacrifices made to transport
them had to total nearly a billion people. This was crazy. After all, that
was the first rule of warfare, always outnumber your enemy.
The Battle Over Worlon lasted for only days, and in the end, the Krekel
won with their home field advantage, and their ability to recruit
reinforcements from a planet called Folia, in a universe called
Moderaverse. That didn’t mean it was over, though. Krekel and Ochivari
looked exactly the same, just as British and German people did because
they were both humans. The only distinction possible was clothing, which
could always be changed. The Krekel won the war, but that didn’t mean
there weren’t survivors. Some of them escaped through sacrificial bulk
portals, but others were believed to have blended in with the locals, and
assimilated into society. Maybe some of them were indoctrinated into the
new way of life, which included a lot less death, but others held firm.
They became sleepers. Today on Cadatora, they attacked for the first time
since the end of that fateful battle months ago.
Olimpia was the first to see the knife. She wasn’t sure if she should be
nervous at first. Maybe it was some kind of ceremonial gesture, and wasn’t
intended to be used as a weapon. But the supposed Krekel’s body language
seemed to indicate that he had ill intentions towards the Domina. While
the timeline that the Krekels came from was different, there were still
some similarities. Their respective cultures were both ruled by diarchies.
The Domino and the Domina were like King and Queen, except they were not
in a relationship with each other. In fact, the more they liked each
other, the harder it was for them to maintain power. While all systems of
government that relied on non-elected leaders were at least a little
tyrannical, in this case, it was pretty easy to overthrow a Dominé that
began to act outside the interests of the people, and in the Krekel’s
case, it could be done nonviolently. The Domini were well-loved,
particularly the Domina. That was why the Ochivar infiltrator was
attempting to assassinate her.
Everyone on the team picked up on Olimpia’s unease, and Leona acted
quickly. She pulled out her weapon, and once she saw where the danger was
lurking, she took her shot. She could have set her gun to incapacitate the
attacker, but she didn’t. The would-be assassin was killed instantly,
placing everyone in an awkward position. The only way they even knew that
he was Ochivar, and probably was trying to kill the Domina,
was because they could not identify him, so he wasn’t a known citizen of
Worlon. He was certainly not approved to be in the Royal Court during the
Royal Cadatoran Breakfast. So Leona almost definitely saved the Domina’s
life, and who knows how many others, but that didn’t make it okay.
Weapons were not allowed in the Royal Court. All armed guardsmen kept
their posts outside its walls. The guards inside had to check their
weapons in, and if a problem occurred, would only be allowed to use their
fists and feet and wings. The attacker broke the law by sneaking one in,
but Leona shouldn’t have used hers either. They made an exception by
allowing her to bring it in in the first place, but they were humoring her
as their honored guest. They didn’t think that she would actually use it,
and now that she had, they were all in big trouble.
“You have two options,” their state-appointed advocate explained to them.
“If you risk going to trial, there is no telling what the arbitration
panel will decide. You could be put to death, placed in prison, assigned
to a work camp, forced into the military, exiled in universe, or expelled
to the bulk. Or, I guess you could be found innocent. The first six are
equally likely, but that last one is remote. These consequences could be
suffered by you alone, or shared by the whole group, or each of you could
conceivably be handed different sentences. Like I said, it’s a risk.”
Leona lifted her hand, and started counting herself and her friends, as if
she didn’t know that there were six. “Death, prison, work, military,
exile, expulsion. Six people for six punishments. Sounds like a long
arc...except for one of them,” she mused, referencing execution. “You said
there were two options. Was all that one option?”
“You could volunteer for one of them, but you would have to do it
together, and obviously you can’t choose freedom.”
“Well...obviously we should choose exile, right?” Angela figured. “We
didn’t really want to be here anyway.”
“That comes with a caveat. There are pros and cons to all of them. Death
would be swift and painless. Prison would be comfortable. The work would
be easy. Military service would be relatively safe. Expulsion would be to
the universe of your choosing.”
“You skipped one,” Olimpia pointed out, “the one that we’re actually
suggesting.”
“If you don’t leave by the end of the week, which for you would only be a
few hours, you will experience all other punishments, and none of the
advantages will apply. You’ll be put to work doing hard labor in an
uncomfortable prison, and then sent to the frontlines of the war once the
appropriate opportunity arises. If you somehow survive that, you’ll be
expelled to a universe not of your choosing, and while I’m not
privy to which universe that would be, my guess is that it would be an
extremely hostile environment, especially since they were clear
that you would have to go through all five other punishments, and death
would necessarily be the last on the list.”
“Who came up with this, a science fiction writer?” Leona questioned.
“Probably. It’s not in the law books. That’s why it took me all day to get
back to you while you were in jail, because the court had to explain it to
me and the adherent first. He didn’t know what they were talking about
either, and he’s more upset than I.”
“Okay, this doesn’t make any sense. Why is there a time limit on
self-exile? We’ll just go through the Nexus, and it’ll be done,” Angela
presumed.
“That’s the thing,” the advocate went on. “You can’t use the Nexus. And no
one who lives here is allowed to help you. I told you there was a caveat.”
Leona sighed, annoyed at yet another round of games. This was reminding
her of The Cleanser’s Tribulations, Arcadia’s Expiations, and all the
other needlessly convoluted missions that people have sent them on over
the centuries. “So it’s our responsibility to punish ourselves, and if we
fail to do that, they’ll punish us, and it will be five times worse.”
“How would we get off this planet without help?” Marie asks.
“I don’t know how you could,” he said, “but I’m just an attorney. You’re the
legendary adventurers. Isn’t escape sort of your thing?”
“Emphasis on the sort of part,” Ramses clarified.
Leona looked at Mateo. “You’ve been quiet. I noticed you put your thinking face
on.”
Mateo turned his neck to face different parts of the room as if members of
a crowd in the middle distance were taking turns expressing their
thoughts, and he was listening politely. He settled on the door. “I’ve
already solved this problem.”
“How do you figure?” Leona pressed.
Mateo kept staring at the door. “I just feel it. Help is coming. Senona
Riggur lives outside of time. They can see the future as easily as anyone
can see the present. Venus is no different.”
“What do those so-called gods have to do with anything?” Angela asked.
“Five..four..three..two...” Mateo lifted his hand, and pointed at the door
just as he finished the countdown. The door opened to reveal Maqsud
Al-Amin, a.k.a. The Trotter.
Maqsud was one of the few people in histories who were capable of
transporting themselves from one planet to another, at seemingly infinite
distances. He helped return Leona and her then-team from Dardius to Earth
a long time ago. None of the others had ever met him, but they all knew
who he was. He dressed very uniquely. “Does someone here need a ride?” he
guessed. “I did not come to this planet on purpose.”
“We’ll take exile,” all six of them volunteered simultaneously.
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