The Needs of the Many
Confusingly named Saga!Three was sitting at the top of the stairs, waiting
for her new partner, Zektene to get out of the bathroom. Zektene was from
another universe, and came here after a trip to the past changed enough about history to stop her from ever existing. That was no longer her world, so she made this her
new home.
“I’ve been thinking about your name!” Zek called out through the door.
“You don’t have to yell!” Saga!Three shouted back.
“You’re yelling!”
“I’m just trying to match your energy!
Zektene laughed.
“What about my name?”
“We need some way to distinguish you from your alternate self.”
Saga!Three was also a time traveler, and was created when a different
version of her named Saga!Two went back to help kill Adolf Hitler early. To
avoid ambiguity, others began to address them by the number that was
arbitrarily assigned to their reality. There were an infinite number of past
realities, however, and this was in no way only the third, but the name was
good enough. “That’s what the number is for.”
“It’s too impersonal!” Zek argued. “Who was that one gal you mentioned, who
met her alternate self? She goes by her real name, while the other goes by
their nickname?”
“Holly Blue and Weaver, yes. The former just never started using the
nickname. You wanna start calling me Doorwalker?”
“No, that’s dumb. That’s why I wanna talk about it, so we can figure
something else out.”
“I’m all ears.”
Zek came out of the bathroom. “How about Freya?”
“You have already thought about this.”
“Just a little. During my research, I learned that your name, Saga is
associated with a goddess named Frigg. I don’t know what it means to be
associated with a different person, but I don’t much care for Frigg. I do,
however, like Freya, which is somehow associated with Frigg. I don’t know
what that means for its relationship with Saga, but I think it suits you
either way.”
“Fine with me. Freya it is,” the newly reborn Freya affirmed.
“Now, is that Freyja with a j, or just a y-a?” asked some stranger in their
hotel room.
“Whoa! I’m sorry, but who are you?”
The stranger looked confused. “I...I’m Nadia.”
Freya continued to look confused and disturbed with her eyes, and widened
her mouth like a smile to offer this Nadia person more time to elaborate.”
“You may have heard of The Historian...?”
“Oh. That’s you?” Freya asked. That’s Freya, with a y-a.
“Okay, I got it, Superintendent,” Nadia said with a roll of her eyes. Don’t
you roll your eyes at me. “Oh, forgive me, Your Grace.” You are forgiven.
“Are you...speaking with The Superintendent right now?” Freya asked.
Nadia was writing in her book. “F-R-E-Y-A. What was that? Oh, yes, he’s
being a di—uhhhhh...lightful supreme being. He’s being..great.”
“Why do you need her new name?” Zek asked, changing the subject back. “I
mean, it’s cool you know, but for what specific purpose?”
“Um, she can’t just change her name, and expect everyone to start using it
all of the sudden. When the Shapers go to a new time period, I have to
manipulate reality to account for their new identities. When Lowell Benton
changed Jeremy’s name from J.B., I had to update our records. Otherwise, he
would have to start correcting people one-by-one, and that is so tedious.
It’s much easier if I just send out a psychic blast. From now on, most of
the people you run into who already knew you should now start using the new
name. There may be a few glitches.”
“Well...” Freya began. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” Nadia replied. “I’m also here for another reason. This belongs
to you.” She handed Zek a business card. There was no writing on it, but it
was covered in colors.
“What is this?” Zek asked.
“Rendezvous card,” Nadia said cryptically. “It’s up to you to figure out how
to use it. Be at that location, and someone you’re supposed to meet will
arrive as well.”
“Sounds like you’re not going to tell us who it is,” Freya presumed.
“I don’t know who it is. I just found it as a bookmark on your title page,
and I know what it does. I couldn’t tell you if it’s a mission, or someone
you’ve been looking for, or what, but someone has decided to put you two
together, so go on and find out.”
“Thank you again,” Zek echoed.
Nadia softened her smile, and raised her hands in front of her stomach,
pinkies together, palms up. She ceremoniously closed them together, as if
shutting an invisible book, which served to fold her own body into a
two-dimensional object, and make her disappear.
“This is a distraction,” Freya told Zek.
“We don’t know that.”
“We’re supposed to be looking for something called The Transit. That’s what
Vearden said. That’s going to help us end this once and for all.”
“Have faith in the process, Freya. Now, I think I know how to work this
thing. Hold onto my shoulder.”
“Okay,” Freya conceded.
Necessary Evil
The new team continued talking, asking questions, and arguing. Freya was
used to being conscripted for missions, and fighting for causes she didn’t
know anything about. It was just part of her life, so even though she wasn’t
sure she wanted to do this, it was no longer in her nature to try to get out
of it. These other people had no such experiences. They were polite and
careful, but didn’t just agree to this blindly. If there was one thing Freya
learned about the Maramon, it was that they weren’t very cunning, and they
did not play the long game. If one of them approached you, and asked for
your help, they were probably—honestly—one of the good ones, and knew that
you were good too. Good Maramon like Khuweka were rare, and seemed to only
become that way after spending time with decent human beings, but they were
not raised as such. They developed in a universe that was literally smaller
than most, and suffered a lack of resources beyond most people’s
conceptions. They were angry and spiteful, and they only ever showed
potential for change on the individual level, when they were removed from
society, and their people’s bizarre worldview.
As one might expect, the ethicist, Professor Spellmeyer was the hardest to
convince, while Limerick was the easiest. He didn’t know anything about the
Ochivari, but he deliberately chose to think of them as insects, rather than
insectoids, which would make wiping them out less like genocide, and more
like large scale pest control. The Ochivari were somehow dragonfly-based,
but they were not dragonflies, and did not evolve from them. According to
what little data people were able to gather on them, their skin looked like
that of a bug’s, but it was not an exoskeleton, and they were shaped like
humans, complete with arms, legs, fingers, and toes. Their wings were not
useless, but they did not allow them to fly. They used them in battle, to
blow gusts of winds at their opponent, or to dodge attacks. They were very
fragile, however, and even though damaging one didn’t cause too terribly
much pain for the victim, they weren’t likely to heal, and doing so did
lessen any advantage they had.
Freya called all this the source variant, which was a term one of her
friends coined to refer to a subspecies that developed on an alien planet.
They originally came from human DNA, which was shipped across the galaxy,
and seeded on other habitable worlds. So they came from humans, but each
unique environment shaped each unique population in unique ways. By being
exposed to a different atmospheric composition, being fed different foods,
and possibly by interstellar radiation, their genetic make-up was
transformed into something different; probably always humanoid, but
rarely—if ever—passably human. Freya and Zektene spent time on a planet with
two of these source variants. The Orothsew were human-based, and the
Gondilak Maramon-based. It was kind of a coincidence that both parent
species chose to seed life on the same planet, except it wasn’t that
far-fetched, because there were a finite number of hospitable worlds
available, and humans wanted to live everywhere they possibly could.
The Ochivari were created in the same way as the Orothsew, but on a second
planet that they called Worlon. One of them came to Orolak once, intending
to bring death and destruction to all inhabitants. When Freya and Zek left,
the people they left behind were working on defending Orolak from this
threat. The two of them made it their responsibility to go on the offense,
so while they weren’t happy about the temporal genocide, it would accomplish
what they set out do, and bonus, they weren’t going to have to do it alone.
The engineer, Carbrey was either massaging his eyes, or trying to pluck them
out with his fingers. He was not being gentle, because this was stressing
him out so much. “Let me get this straight. You want me to build a spaceship
from scratch that can travel at superluminal speeds. We don’t have that on
my Earth.” He was more concerned with the logistics than the ethics, which
was fine because they probably needed a break from the intense debate.
“Well, you won’t have to build it from nothing,” Khuweka clarified. “The
humans in this time period have interstellar ship technology today. They’re
just lacking our speed requirements, which I will procure from The
Shortlist. I just don’t want to take a preexisting ship, because we would
have to steal it.”
“What is the Shortlist?” Limerick asked, interested in it because it sounded
ominous and cool. Freya didn’t know either.
“The Shortlist is a group of incredibly bright and busy women who are
responsible for time travel technology in this universe,” Khuweka explained.
“Most of the galaxy is not allowed to have their technology, because it
would screw things up. If we want the specifications of the reframe engine,
we will have to put in a request to them. Or at least, we might. I’ll
contact the inventor first. She may be able to sign off on it without a full
council meeting.”
“Okay,” Zek said, “who is this inventor, and how do we get in touch with
her?”
“Her name is Hokusai Gimura,” Khuweka revealed.
“Oh, we know her,” Freya realized. “She’s the one trying to protect Orolak
from the Ochivari.”
“Yes,” Khuweka began. “While that won’t happen for another two thousand some
odd years, I believe the Hokusai living on the Earth at the moment has
already experienced that in her personal timeline. I’m not sure, though, so
careful what you say.”
“She’s on Earth right now?” Zek asked.
“Yes,” Khuweka began, “living alone on the beach in a place formerly known
as Dounreay, United Kingdom.”
“She’s alone?” Freya pressed. “Does she want visitors?”
“If she wants us to leave, we’ll leave, and if we have to do that, we’ll try
to reach the Shortlist, and perhaps a younger Madam Gimura will be more
agreeable. For now, Miss Cormanu, could you please teleport us to that
location?”
“Dounreay?”
“Dounreay.”
“I can only take two by two,” Zek explained.
“That’s fine.
They made the trip halfway across the globe, and ended up on the shore of
the North Atlantic Ocean. A little hut had been erected several meters away,
really just large enough for one person; two, if they were fine being close
to each other. Someone was lounging back in a chair on the approximation of
a front porch. They approached, and found her to be Hokusai Gimura, but a
much, much older version of her.
“Madam Gimura,” Khuweka greeted her. “My name is Khuweka Kadrioza. You may
also call me Keynote, if you’d like.”
“Just set it over there,” the old Hokusai said, haphazardly pointing to the
ground beside her.
“Set what over here?”
Hokusai finally turned to look at who she was talking to, tipping her
sunglasses down to get a better view. “Oh, I thought you were a...never
mind. What can I help you with?”
“We were hoping to procure the plans for the reframe engine. I’m sure you
have reserva—” Khuweka interrupted herself when she noticed Hokusai tapping
on her wristband. “Umm...”
A flashcard popped out of the wristband. Hokusai sighed as she removed the
card from its slot, and dropped it into Khuweka’s hand. “There ya go.”
“You don’t wanna know what we’re gonna use it for? I have this whole speech
about necessary evil.”
“I don’t give a shit anymore. I’m tired.”
“We’re sorry to have bothered you,” Freya jumped in.
Now Hokusai perked up. “Madam Einarsson?”
“Miss,” Freya corrected. “Never married.”
“Oh, you’re the other one, that’s right. Anywho, I have a very busy day of
not engineering any inventions. You may stay if it strikes your fancy, but
when the sunglasses go on, the mouth goes off, ya dig?”
Khuweka carefully dropped the flashcard into Carbrey’s hand, like it was
radioactive. “Maybe someday. You take care of yourself, Madam Gimura.”
Hokusai just nodded her head. She must have been through a lot since Freya
last saw her. Time travel will do that to you, and who knew who she lost
along the way? Her wife, Loa was conspicuously missing.
“We’ll be on this planet for the next two years or so,” Freya told her after
the rest of the group had started walking back down the beach, even though
they could teleport from anywhere. “I don’t have a phone number or anything,
though...”
“I won’t need anything,” Hokusai promised. “Thanks for the sentiment.”
Freya just kept watching her with a sad panda face, even as Zektene started
transporting the team back to home base.
“Really, I’m fine. Don’t you worry about me. Just kill those dragonfly
mother fuckers. Kill them all.” So she already knew.
Zek offered to leave Freya there, so she could have a deeper conversation
with Hokusai, but they all knew that wasn’t what Hokusai wanted. They just
went back to where they were, an underground facility in what was once
called Kansas.
They watched as Carbrey inserted the flashcard into the reader, and opened
up the files. It took him a moment to get used to the system. Different
universe, different way to use computers. He picked it up pretty quickly,
and started looking over the data that Hokusai had given them. “Hmm.”
“What?” Khuweka asked.
“No, it’s just...it’s an interesting way to look at faster-than-light
travel. I mean it’s just warp speed, but the math works out a lot easier
this way. Anyone with a second-level higher degree would be able to decipher
this, except...”
“Except what?” Limerick asked.
“I don’t know what this thing is.” Carbrey pointed at the screen.
“Oh, that’s the cylicone,” Khuweka started to explain. “Vital to any time
tech. It’s what makes it work, and why a post-grad has no chance of
stumbling upon the secret.”
“People aren’t allowed to know about this?” Carbrey questioned.
“Time travelers only,” Freya answered.
“For now,” Khuweka added cryptically. “Can you do it? This world has
nanotechnology and ninety-nine automation. All you need to do is make sure
everything runs smoothly. Two years should be no problem, but if we don’t
make that goal, we really will have to go back in time. I don’t want that
seed plate landing on Worlon, and so much as starting to create the
Ochivari.”
Carbrey took in a breath, and looked back at the data. “I don’t know how
your tech works, so there will be a learning curve. I can’t promise two
years just because of that. I’ll go as fast as I can, though.”
“I think you can do it,” Khuweka said confidently. “Like I said, it’s all
automated. Spaceships aren’t run by pilots, or even astronauts. They’re run
by AI, regulated by engineers, like yourself.”
“All right,” Carbrey said. He went back to the computer.
“What are we going to do for the next two years?” Limerick asked as the
group was stepping away to give their engineer some space.
“Hopefully we’ll be discussing this matter further,” Andraste recommended.
“It’s fine he starts working on that thing, but we are nowhere near done
yet.”
Khuweka was trying very hard not to roll her eyes. “Very well, Professor
Spellmeyer. Let’s do an exercise called Devil’s Advocate. Professor, since
you’re so adamantly opposed to this idea—”
“That’s not what I’m doing here,” Andraste argued.
“How do you mean?”
“I’m not opposed to the idea,” Andraste continued. “I just want to make sure
you’ve considered the ramifications of your choices. Ethicists don’t take
sides. We provide facts, or provide ways of determining facts.”
“Well, is anyone actually opposed?” Khuweka opened up the floor. “The
Devil’s Advocate exercise only works when someone wants to do it, and
someone doesn’t, so they can switch places, and argue each other’s
position.” She waited for someone to say something, but everything they had
heard about the Ochivari, and what they had done, had seemed to erase any
true reservations they had. Andraste would probably always be wary—as would
peaceable healer, Landis—even after the mission was over, but that didn’t
mean they weren’t going to go through with it. “Okay,” Khuweka said with an
air of finality. “We will continue to refine our methods, and contemplate
the ethics, but I think it’s time we agree that this is happening, in one
form or another. For now, let me introduce you to this fun little game I
found out about called RPS-1o1 Plus.”
The Ends Justify the Means
Carbrey spent about a month studying this universe’s technology, so he would
understand how it worked before he even thought about engineering something
real. He picked it up pretty quickly seeing as the tech wasn’t too
dissimilar to what he was used to, but he said he would rather be safe than
sorry. The laws of physics, he claimed, were exactly the same, so that was
nice. The facility they were staying in was mostly a gigantic underground
hangar, with a few other rooms attached to it. They each had their own place
to sleep, but it was nothing fancy. This place was obviously not designed
for boarding. Freya wondered what they once kept in here, and why it was
abandoned. While they were relatively close to the nearest population center
in Kansas City, Khuweka assured them that no regular human would show up. A
few temporal manipulators were aware of it, but none had much reason to use
it in this particular time period. There appeared to be at least one,
though. They were eating lunch together in the middle of the hangar when a
ceiling suddenly appeared above their heads, starting from a single point,
and then extending outwards. Of course, there already was a ceiling, but it
was many stories above them. This one was only a few stories up, and while
that was more than enough room to clear their heads, the force of its abrupt
arrival knocked them all to the floor.
“What the hell just happened?” Limerick asked as he was sitting up and
massaging his head.
“I don’t know,” Khuweka said honestly. She had been thrown down as well, but
Maramon were physically superior to humans, so she wasn’t hurt at all.
Andraste, on the other hand, was very hurt. Blood was seeping out of the
back of her head, and spreading out on the floor. Her eyes were closed, and
she wasn’t moving. When Landis saw this, he started crawling towards her.
His wing appeared to be hurt as well, perhaps broken, but he knew that
Andraste was priority. He took a deep breath, and exhaled over Andraste’s
body. “Injuries heal faster than terminal diseases,” he explained, “but it
will still be a few minutes.”
“What if she’s dead already?” Zektene asked. “I don’t mean to be negative,
but can you cure death?”
“Death is a process,” Landis answered. “It doesn’t happen in one moment. I
can’t go digging up graves, but if she died, it was quite recent, so it
should be fine. She will not have even experienced permanent brain damage,
which is the one thing I cannot repair.”
“Khuweka,” Carbrey began, “what is that thing?”
“I think it’s a ship,” Limerick assumed right.
“Zek,” Khuweka said, “could you take Mister Genovese to investigate? Jump
back here at the first sign of trouble.”
“Okay,” Zek replied. She took Carbrey by the hand, and teleported away.
A minute later, Andraste sat up, and checked the back of her head, not out
of pain, but because it was still wet with her blood. “What happened?”
They told her.
“Do you feel okay?” Freya asked.
“I feel great,” she answered. She started opening and closing her hands. “I
think my arthritis is gone.”
“Yes,” Landis said. “I’m a holistic healer. I couldn’t cure only one disease
or injury if I wanted. It’s all or nothing.”
“We should all get treated,” Limerick suggested excitedly. “I know my liver
could use a little TLC. You guys know what that acronym means?”
“Yes,” they replied in unison.
Five minutes later, Zek and Carbrey reappeared before them. “It’s an
interplanetary warship called The Sharice Davids.”
They all looked to Freya. “I’ve never heard of it. Sorry.”
“Is there anyone in it?” Khuweka asked.
“Totally empty,” Zek said.
“Based on what little of the system I saw,” Carbrey started to say, “an
emergency escape maneuver recently completed its sequence. It was traveling
all throughout time and space, spending only seconds at any one point,
evidently so no one would have time to board it. It had to stop eventually,
though. This last jump depleted it of all its power, except for what little
was able to eke out in order for me to get this information, but then it
died completely.”
Limerick was staring up at the bottom of the vessel admiringly. “We should
keep it.”
“It isn’t ours,” Khuweka argued.
“Why did you choose this hangar?”
“Because no one else was using it.”
“No one else is using this ship either.”
“You don’t know when they’ll be coming back,” she contended. She turned to
face Freya. “It is your job on this team to know these things, or find out.
Please make some inquiries for us. Meanwhile, Carbrey, power up some of the
internal systems, just to gather more information. We’ll only refuel if we
all decide we’re allowed to.”
“How do I...?” Freya began to ask, but thought better of it. She was right,
this was her job. She had to figure this out herself, or she should just
quit. Out of everyone here, she was the most dedicated to the cause. Not
even Zek totally wanted to be here. She mostly joined the mission in the
first place because she didn’t want Freya to be alone. “I’ll take care of
it.”
“I’ll go with you,” Zek offered for the upteenth time.
“Good, because I need a ride to Giza.”
They teleported to the benbenet of the Great Pyramid of Giza, which was
invisible to all who did not know it was still there. A man was standing
before them. “Stargazer,” Freya began, “you once told me that you owed me a
favor, even though I had done nothing for you.”
“Not you, per se,” Stargazer corrected. “I consider alternates to be equals.
Another version of Saga helped, and I honor that.”
“But if you do me a favor, am I not taking it from her?”
“You are not. What can I help you with?”
“We need to find someone familiar with advanced temporal technology,
specifically in regards to a spaceship,” Zek said.
“This is my friend, Zektene Cormanu,” Freya explained. Stargazer was polite
and accommodating, but wary of strangers. “She’s cool.”
He nodded with his eyes closed, then turned to Zek. “What time period?”
“This one, I think,” Zek answered. “It’s called The Sharice Davids.”
Stargazer was taken aback. “That should not be here in this moment. You must
take it away. It is too dangerous. The future depends on no one else ever
finding out it survived. I didn’t even know, and must now have my memories
erased once you leave to protect it.”
“We’re sorry,” Freya said with a frown.
“No, it’s quite all right. It’s good that you came to me, since I know what
to do with this information.”
“It’s only an interplanetary ship,” Zek pointed out. “Where could we
possibly hide it?”
He shook his head. “It was designed to protect against external threats to
the solar system, but it eventually became outdated, and time travelers
later retrofitted it with interstellar capabilities. It was destroyed before
reaching its first exoplanet, so if it was put back together, it means some
very powerful people came back to reclaim it for themselves. You cannot let
that happen, so you cannot trust anyone.”
Freya looked for answers in the layer of sand on the floor. “There might be
a way to get rid of it.”
“Tell me nothing,” Stargazer warned before she could continue. “I’m happy to
erase my memories, but the less I ever knew, the safer the information will
be.”
“Understood,” Zek said. “But just to be clear, there is no one in this
timeline who deserves this? Does it not belong to someone else?”
“It does,” Stargazer confirmed, “but it is best that they also believe it
was destroyed. The knowledge should not go further than you two.”
They winced.
“You’re not the only two, are you?”
Freya straightened up, and put on her poker face. “I will tell you nothing.
No comment.”
He smiled. “Good. Carry on.”
They returned to the hangar, but no one was there. A hatch was open on the
bottom of the Sharice, suggesting that everyone made their way into it while
they were gone. Zek transported Freya up to the bridge, and then began
sweeping the corridors using a series of rapid jumps. A minute later, she
returned to ferry Freya to the group. They were in an auxiliary control
room, which Carbrey said was where the emergency temporal displacement drive
was housed. Based on its remoteness and lack of signage, he guessed that
very few people were made aware that this TDD existed. Freya and Zek relayed
what they had learned from Stargazer, and it seemed to mesh well with what
Carbrey was able to learn from the computers.
“So, not only can we take it, but we actually should?” Limerick was happy to
hear this.
“I’m not sure that’s true,” Khuweka disagreed. “Stargazer wants us to get
this thing out of the timeline, and the safest way to do that is by sending
it to some other universe. That’s not something we can do, and even if we
could, we need a ship to get to Worlon first, and this can’t do that if it’s
supposed to remain a secret.”
“Aren’t we going to Worlon before anyone else arrives?” Andraste reminded
her. “We should be able to keep it secret until the mission is over. Perhaps
this is fate. It certainly came at the opportune time. Mr. Genovese was just
about to start building us a new one, and now he doesn’t have to.”
“It’s not that simple,” Carbrey said, pulling himself away from the screen.
“I was working on a minimalist design. It would incorporate the reframe
engine, but it was otherwise only large enough to accommodate the seven of
us. This thing is far more than we need, and I don’t think it has a reframe
engine.”
“We don’t need it if we can travel through time,” Limerick noted.
Carbrey shook his head. “The TDD is gone. It was only ever meant to be
activated once, and as it was sending the ship to this last location, it
evidently self-destructed somewhere else in time. The logs called it a...”
he squirted at the screen, and rediscovered what he read before, “Lucius
last resort. Whatever that means.”
Something was distracting Freya from the conversation. “Landis, are you
still hurt? Can’t you heal yourself.”
“I can’t,” Landis answered. “I cannot heal myself. After I got my foundation
going, my security detail was composed of hundreds of people.”
“Anyway. I think we’re destined to use it.” Limerick was so sure of himself.
“Build the reframe engine thing, put it in here, and let’s get on with it. I
know it’s not easy, but you still have two years.”
“That doesn’t help us with the real problem,” Khuweka reminded him. “Once we
destroy the Ochivari, someone would have to take the ship to the
Triangulum galaxy, or something. I’m not sure anywhere is safe, not when
considering time travelers.”
“I thought you said I could travel to other universes,” Limerick said.
“Yeah, you can, and other people can follow you through. You can’t create a
shatter portal large enough for a spaceship, and even if you could, you
can’t breathe in outer space. You would have to be outside the ship to make
it happen. Look, the Sharice came back here for a reason. It believes this
is the safest place for it. I say Carbrey builds us what he was going to all
along, and we just leave it alone.”
“I can’t accept that,” Limerick fought. This is a warship, and we’re in a
war. And who knows, maybe our mission will change enough about the future to
stop these evil future people from even existing? I say the ends justify the
means.”
“I agree with him,” Freya finally said. They looked at her, a little shocked, but not completely surprised. They knew she was all gung ho about killing the Ochivari, but she was also quite protective of her universe, and if keeping this ship around put it in danger, was that worth the risk? As they were arguing, she was working
through that conundrum in her head, and ultimately decided that yes, it was.
“We don’t know what we’re going to encounter out there, and this is our best
shot at surviving. If we don’t succeed, we can use this in the war, and
we’ll always keep it far enough away from whoever is trying to steal it. I
don’t know how we’ll actually get the damn thing to another universe, but
that’s not our problem at the moment. Let’s stop the Ochivari, then worry
about that later. Hell, we might even find a solution on Worlon. We still
don’t know how it is they were born with the ability to bulkverse travel.
Perhaps it has something to do with their home planet. We can take whatever
that is for ourselves.”
“I think it’s too dangerous,” Khuweka said, shaking her head slowly. “But I
am nothing if not a fair leader. I will concede to whatever the group
decides.”
They continued discussing, letting Andraste moderate the debate. In the end,
they decided to use the Sharice Davids towards their own goals. At least if
they always had it with them, they could control other people’s cognizance
of it. They figured it was better than just leaving it here, and hoping that no
one happened to show up.
Part IV
Coming soon...
No comments :
Post a Comment