Extremus: Year 98

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It’s been well over a year, and Audrey Husk has not reached out again regarding her mandate to secretly aid Silveon in his mission to stop Waldemar Kristiansen from growing up to become a violent tyrant. As per Extenuating Circumstances Executive Time Travel Protocol, Tinaya hasn’t reached back either. While time travel is illegal on the ship, the council recognizes that there are situations where it may be necessary. It may not be safe to report such time travel activity, and under those extreme conditions, it is up to the executive crewmember to exercise caution at their own discretion. That only goes for people like Tinaya and Lataran, though. If, say, a passenger were to discover a time travel event, it would be their responsibility to report it accordingly, and they would be just as liable for any damages if caught in the lie or conspiratorial collusion.

They’ve all seen each other regularly. Audrey has maintained her cover as Silveon and Waldemar’s friend. Despite being at wildly different places in their education, they help each other out. Silveon still doesn’t know that Audrey has the mind of an adult, so she pretends to be lacking in certain areas. Silveon, despite not being able to reveal himself as also from the future, has propped himself up to be somewhat of a prodigy. This gives him a decent excuse for being more intelligent than anyone would expect him to be. More importantly, it frees him up to focus on his real work without any questions. As for Waldemar, he’s still struggling. He went the other way by pretending to be dumber than he is because he has an almost total lack of motivation, which is something that neither Silveon nor Audrey can teach him. If he’s not listening to the apparent adults, he’s certainly not going to take advice on self-discipline from a couple of kids that he believes to be younger than him. Again, Tinaya is mostly staying out of it. Her son tells her and Arqut some anecdotes about his progress, as anyone would to confide in someone they trust, but he doesn’t deliver official reports, or anything.

Since the ship is fortunate enough to have two living admirals at the moment, only one of them is asked to attend each daily meeting. That leaves the other one back at the office with nothing to do for slightly longer than on days where she’s in the meeting instead. There’s not really any strategic reason for this. The council seemingly just doesn’t want to hear too many voices in the room. These huddles are boring, annoying, and intrusive for most, so they want to get them over with as quickly as possible. The admirals switch off every other day, and today is Tinaya’s turn to not have to be there. At least that’s how she claims to feel. In reality, she would rather be there every time. She actually misses being involved, and—if she’s being honest with herself—needed. The solution may seem like a no-brainer, but it’s not. She doesn’t want anyone to know how she feels, not even Lataran. So she goes along with the so-called fair routine.

“Sir, I’ve received a request for a visit,” Thistle says from the aether.

Who could that possibly be? Everyone authorized to see her is in that meeting. “From who?”

“Another child.” Oh, God. Not another time traveler. Thistle goes on, “he’s been assigned to write on someone he admires. He’s evidently chosen you.”

That’s flattering. “Does he seem nice?”

“I can’t answer that.”

“Have him meet me in the Attic Forest—no, the Central Sequoia, at the base.” Tinaya planted the tree at the bottom of the ship nearly forty years ago, and it has since grown around eleven meters, allowing it to pass through three decks at this point. She won’t live to see its full potential, so she likes to frequent it when she can to get the most out of her masterpiece.

She teleports directly there, expecting to have a little time to herself before the boy arrives, but someone is already there. At this time of day, it’s not very busy. Well, it’s never very busy here, but people are preoccupied with other things, so there’s not a whole lot of traffic going in and out, or sticking around.

A young man appears from the other side of the trunk. “Admiral Leithe, thanks for meeting me.”

“How did you get here so fast?” Tinaya looks down at the boy’s wristband, even though it’s impossible to know from here whether it’s teleportation-capable or not.

“Oh, I’m a Pathfinder,” he answers, both like it’s no big deal, and as if she should know what that means.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“I don’t so much as see the future as I know where to be, and when to be there. And I know when someone’s in danger, or when their luck is about to change. Things of this nature. To me, the future is more like a haze, while for everyone else, it’s a darkness.”

“You’re a choosing one. Those are rare. They’re, like, real rare.” Back on Earth, there are people who are born with the ability to manipulate time and/or space in some way or another. There aren’t a lot of them, but they can be anyone. Some of them have full control of it, and some are being controlled by this mysterious force known as the powers that be. They’re practically nonexistent on Extremus, though. Their ancestors were wayward sons and daughters, who found themselves trapped in the universe of Ansutah with all the white monsters. A baby came out stillborn, and this tragedy erased everyone’s powers, whatever they happened to be. They say that, had this baby been healthy, he would have had the ability to control other people’s powers at will, but because of the unfortunate circumstances, his meta-power was only activated once, and could not be reversed. And it had consequences for the future. Not only were the powers stripped from everyone present, but their descendants didn’t have powers. Statistically speaking, over the course of millennia, new choosers should have been born, regardless of their lineage. It’s just something that happens every once in a while. No one really knows why time travelers exist in the first place. But there are almost none on the ship. The real question is actually, why does it ever happen? Why are there any exceptions at all? What makes this boy different?

He shrugs. “Maybe my great great great great grandparent was a space traveler who secretly snuck into the Gatewood Collective, and ended up starting a mixed bloodline of Earthans and Extremusians.”

She narrows his eyes at him. She’s getting the sense that he’s telling the truth, and genuinely doesn’t know why he’s an exception. It’s not like it’s illegal anyway. Nothing is against the law that you’re born with, though if someone made it so that you were born a certain way, that may be cause for a response. Maybe it’s just that he doesn’t care. Some people are also born apathetic, and that’s not illegal either. “Maybe...”

He offers her his hand. “Pronastus Kegrigia, secondary school student at Stern Academy.”

“Secondary school?” Tinaya questions. She looks at her watch, again stupidly. She knows the date. “I figured you were in tertiary already. Shouldn’t you be taking your assessments?” That’s one of the reasons why the corridors are so empty today.

He chuckles. “I’ve known my destiny since I was a little kid. I’m going to become the ship’s first—and if the captain has his way, not only—official Pathfinder.”

“They’re expecting you to give direction, I’m guessing when it comes to personnel assignments, and general scheduling? Any policy?”

“Not there yet. Don’t know.”

“So you’re not going to tertiary school, or what?”

“I’m on the civilian admin track. I don’t need any test, I’ve been shoehorned in.”

“Why civilian, and not crew?”

He tightens his lips.

Tinaya lifts her chin, realizing the answer to her own question. “The crew are expected to listen to a civilian voice if their superior officer commands them to. It doesn’t work the other way around. You have to remain a civilian in order to maximize your power and influence.”

“I don’t make the rules, ma’am.”

“You will.”

“I’m supposed to be asking you questions.”

“For your report. Is that in lieu of the placement tests, or did you just make that up to get to me?”

“I made it up, and my instructor approved it. I didn’t tell her that I was choosing you. I did not yet know that I would. We’re encouraged to come up with our own learning tools. I’m sure you remember.”

“It was a long time ago, son. I’ll answer your questions if you answer mine.”

“Why did I choose you?” He doesn’t wait for her to confirm that he guessed right. “You’ve been through the ringer. You were kicked out of the captain’s program, for no apparent reason, except I’m thinking that I’m not the first pathfinder you’ve ever met; built a forest on a spaceship; restructured multiple departments; became First Chair; abolished the Chair system in favor of a more democratic council, even though it caused you to lose your power; disappeared for many years for a secret mission, which evidently lasted longer than the time you were away; and finally, went full circle to become captain anyway, despite the initial setback, which is how you’re an admiral now.”

“That about sums it up.” He doesn’t know the part about her being a secret spy for the Bridger Section, nor the truth about Verdemus. Which is good.

“Satisfying answer?”

“Yes?”

“Would you care to ask me anything else before we continue?”

“I reserve the right to stop the interview at any time, to ask more questions of you, or because I have to pee, or because I suddenly decide to stop making noise between 09:37 and 09:42 everyday.”

He laughs. “Fair enough.”

Pronatus goes on with the interview, asking all the questions one would expect in this situation. He asks after her feelings on all the dramatic shifts in her life, and whether any of it was planned or predicted. He’s really interested in her time in the Parks Department, and how impressive it is that she came up through there, and accomplished so much, not only afterwards, but also during. Things seem to be going okay with the interview until they start to approach the end. That’s when he throws her a curveball. “One last thing. When you die...are you going to choose to live on, or just let go, and see if there’s a true afterlife?”

Tinaya is shocked by this, and thrown totally off her game. “How do you know about that?” She’s met a number of people who are aware of this secret. She herself found out when she was a rebellious kid who was good with computers. She should be an outlier, though, not a trend. There is no protocol for what to do if someone who knows meets someone else who knows, because that’s never meant to happen. She could deny, and play dumb, but he obviously knows what he’s talking about. He’s not grasping at straws. He’s heard the details.

“I told you, I’m a pathfinder.”

“You said the future was a haze. It sounds like you get clear pictures sometimes.”

“My abilities themselves didn’t give me this knowledge. They lead me to places, and sometimes in those places, I end up overhearing things that I’m not supposed to.”

“You’re an eavesdropper.”

“Not by choice. It’s...an impulse.”

“An impulse that you should learn to control.”

“I can’t. I mean, I could. I could draw upon my willpower, and ignore it, but what if it’s leading me to save someone’s life? The very fact that the path is hazy is precisely why I have to follow-through every time. I never know how important it is. Sometimes, yeah, it’s innocuous, like seeing a guy’s towel fall off in what would have otherwise been an empty corridor, but sometimes, it’s profoundly vital. I don’t know until I get there.”

She sighs. “Have you discussed this with anyone else?”

“Of course not. I don’t even know if captains know. Something told me just now that you do, or I wouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Well, maintain that policy. Don’t tell anyone. Leave it out of your report. Don’t even hint at it with colorful language. As for me? I’m obviously not going to answer that question, and even if I did, I could always change my mind, so it’s not like it would tell you where I am after death.”

“You’re right. It was a dumb question. I should have ignored that one. I had enough information to stop myself. I can do better. See, this is why I admire you? Because you’re so...good.”

She has no response for that, so she just moves past it. She stands up from the bench, and sighs. “Is that all you need from me?”

Pronastus stands up too, and folds the cover over his tablet. “Yes, I’ll try to have the first draft of my paper to you tomorrow for approval.”

“Approval? I’m meant to approve it?” She wasn’t expecting this.

“Yes, I’m not a monster, and this isn’t a hit piece.”

“Well, I appreciate that. Give yourself enough time as you need. I don’t do much as an admiral, as we’ve discussed, so I’m sure I’ll be able to read it right away, and get it back to you.”

Everything goes fine in the beginning. Pronastus takes two days to write the paper, and Tinaya is able to approve it with only a few minor grammatical corrections in three hours. She couldn’t help herself, even though it’s not technically her job. The paper’s content is fine, and she has no problem with it being submitted. It’s the instructor who decides that the three of them should not be the only ones to read it, though. She releases it to the public. And it kind of causes an uproar.

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Microstory 2436: Tundradome

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It’s just a big tundra, what do you want from me? It’s even worse than one of the desert domes, because it’s cold. I know, that’s obviously the point, tundras are supposed to be cold. I don’t know what I was expecting, but there’s just nothing here. They don’t even have animals running around, which you would find in a real tundra. I did get the sense that this dome was unfinished, but also not a priority, but there wasn’t anyone around to explain it to me. The vactrain stopped here, I walked through the doors, and I was outside. I went back into the lobby to see if I needed to sign in, or something, but there really wasn’t anyone around. They didn’t even have a help button on the wall. Surely they wouldn’t have let me come here if it was legitimately closed to visitors. There were others who showed up a few minutes after me. We didn’t talk, but they seemed pleased. They stopped a few hundred meters from the entrance, and I guess admired the beauty before them. Then they picked up their gear, and walked away. I assume they went off to camp somewhere, but I don’t know for sure. I doubt they went far, because they were carrying their stuff in their hands, instead of in packs. Listen to me, reviewing the other visitors as if that matters. I should have asked them real quick if maybe I missed something. Like, maybe there’s a different entrance where they went to first, or they messaged someone ahead of time. I could contact customer relations, but I think writing this review is as far as I’m gonna take it. It’s clearly only meant to be a tundra as that’s the name. They’re never going to add activities or adventures, so no matter how much they work on it, I’m never gonna wanna come back. I don’t suggest you do either. If you want to camp, try Foggy Forest. At least they have trees there.

Microstory 2434: Canopydome

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Around the turn of the 22nd century, a major effort began to rewild Earth. Most of the population were moving to megastructure arcologies, seasteads, and space habitats. The cities of old were taking up space where life could be thriving instead. By now, the amount of horizontal space that humans take up is practically negligible. But these endeavors weren’t the very beginning of it. Closer to the middle of the 21st century, people were fed up with how their ancestors had treated the planet. They hadn’t even considered bulldozing entire cities yet, but they still knew that more needed to be done to recover the ecosystems that had already been destroyed. In particular, they were worried about the Amazon rainforest. So many trees had been taken down, and with them, the little critters that used that region as a home. They fought back against corporate greed, and began to restore what was lost. This was during the beginnings of worldwide universal basic income programs, so it was easier to push back against certain institutions. Four hundred years later, not only can we restore whole ecosystems, but create them from scratch. That is what they’ve done here under Canopydome. While nowhere near as large as the one in South America, or other parts of Earth, it’s still nice. When an individual is standing there, under the canopy, it’s not like they can tell how expansive it is. That’s the thing about a rainforest, which sets it apart from other forested environments; you’re wrapped up in the foliage, and can’t see very far. When you’re in it, it feels like this is all there is, and if you’re alone, you feel that too. At the moment, there isn’t much fauna in Canopydome, so the animal calls you hear are from hidden speakers, but I was promised that this will change in the future as more organisms are bioengineered to sustainable levels. They explained how there is actually another rainforest dome, but it’s not at all accessible to the public. It only exists to introduce various species to a comparable environment, and let them figure out how to survive on Castlebourne, before anyone shows up to gawk at them. Apparently, there are a lot of domes like this which serve this purpose. That makes sense. Regenesis is a delicate process, and slow if you wanna do it right. They could make them as realistic automatons instead, but I think they want to be as authentic as possible. One of the reasons they’re doing this is to preserve life, not just so it appears that life exists here. If you’re afraid of large animals, my advice is to come here now before they show up. In contrast, if you want to see those animals, then I advise you to wait. We’re probably talking about five or ten years depending on your definition of the climax community—or more appropriately their definition of it.

Microstory 2406: Foggy Forest

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This place is exactly what it says on the tin. It’s a forest, and there is fog. It’s obviously done on purpose, and while it’s very calculated, it’s also unfinished. The technology necessary for great climate control is there, but it’s still difficult to maintain, and I think some of the processing power is allocated to other regions. This place is great, but it’s not the number one spot on the planet. I saw the fog nozzles sticking out from the ground and the trees a number of times. I’m a gamma tester, and it’s still early, so I’m sure they’ll work out the kinks. They asked me for feedback at the end, so I told them about all this. Actually, they asked me for feedback while I was still there, which I get; they really wanna fix the issues before the real visitors show up. Now let’s talk more about it in an idealized situation. The fog isn’t consistent. Some parts are spookier than others. I’m not sure if there are creepy little monsters lurking in the shadows, but I did get that sense when I went to some of the denser areas. They were pretty tight-lipped about what this was all about. At first, it seems pretty simple. It’s a forest, and there is fog, but maybe there’s more to it? Maybe something lives here. Do you think they finally found aliens? I’m not talking about the microbes we located under the ice on Europa. I mean real aliens that roam around the land and being all sinister and dangerous. I guess they don’t have to be sinister, but everything is dangerous. Maybe I’m just a little bit crazy. That’s what this place does to you, though. It gets in your head, and makes you question your reality. It should be pretty straightforward. It’s a forest, and there is fog. You can go camping, or you can stay in one of the cabins. You don’t even ask to stay in a cabin. If you find shelter, stay there, and if someone else shows up, I guess you have to defend your territory somehow? Like I was saying, there were no instructions, and there don’t seem to be any rules. I dunno, it’s really creepy, but if you can stomach it, I don’t think that anything bad will actually happen to you. You’ll probably be okay. Probably. There’s not much to it. It’s a forest, and there is fog.

The Sixth Key: Getting Their Rocks Off (Part IV)

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Clavia taught Echo...well, seemingly literally everything. She explained how the universe works, why it exists, and who exists in it. She told him about the people who were in charge, and those who simply lived their lives the best they could, ultimately having little impact on the events that unfolded. He was particularly taken in by her lesson on something called The Illusion of Self-Divinity Hypothesis. The theory seeks to understand why people conjure religious and spiritual concepts that go against scientific principles, and are very obviously untrue. They believe in God—or some kind of divine force—in order to establish themselves as the true source of power in a cold and indifferent universe. Science is true. Of course, it’s true, but it’s just as irrelevant as anything else that conscious beings come up with. Whatever is true about how reality works is true whether people understand it or not, or accept it...or, indeed, even if no one is around to contemplate the truth. They have no control over this, and that is a frightening idea.

If people have no impact on the grander truth of reality, what is the point in living? Their existence is insignificant. Humanity as a whole appears to be just as meaningless, so why continue? To protect themselves from this particular hard truth, they come up with tenets of the divine. Many philosophers have postulated that humans do this because they take comfort in the supposed meaningfulness of existence, and that’s probably true as well. But the core of these religious thoughts comes from the individual’s psychological need to hold power. Believers of a given religious school may all believe in basically the same thing. They have the same idea of the divine being, and that this being created them and the universe for some sort of reason. But each individual can come up with their own particular set of sub-tenets. This is important on its own, but their ability to shift their personal tenets at will is what’s key here.

If humans invented God, then humans must be more powerful than God. Since no version of God truly exists, the divine being’s power is wholly within the headcanon of the individual. This effectively serves to make the believer the god-being themselves. They can change their minds about the underlying rules of what they believe to be an ordered universe. Clavia seems to believe this one lesson to be particularly important as they talk about it at least a little every day. Their education lasts for years, all the while, the mysterious second wave of visitors or invaders keeps heading in this direction. She starts to regain some of the special power and knowledge that she had before, but she still can’t explain what’s taking them so long. Or she won’t. Echo decides that he’s going to be okay with this. She’s entitled to her secrets, just as she respects him with his. They spend most of the time in the dreamscapes that she constructs, so they can explore the inner workings of the universe through real examples. Today, all that apparently ends. She’s decided that he’s ready to graduate. They’re doing it in base reality.

Echo stands there on the top of the hill, looking down at the ground below them. He’s meant to picture an audience, but it’s not working. Well, of course it isn’t working. It’s not like he can just magically summon people for real. But his imagination, it’s just not very good. There’s no way to know if he was born like that, or if his upbringing resulted in the deficit. Really, it just makes him sad. He’s proud of himself, and he wants people to see it. He just wants to see people in general. Clavia’s simulations aren’t real. He wants real. The audience materializes.

Dozens of chairs suddenly appear on the ground, and a few seconds later, they’re all filled. At first, he starts to wonder if this is Clavia’s doing. She promised to always make him aware when they’re in a shared dream, but she doesn’t necessarily have to keep that promise. She’s fully capable of tricking him. But he doesn’t think that’s what this is. The people in the seats, they’re confused. Clavia’s a little confused too, but not panicking. She puts the tablet where she was tweaking her speech away, and stands back up. “Ladies and gentlemen, I know that you’re quite perplexed, but I assure you that you are entirely safe. If you will just bear with us, all will be explained.”

“Did I do this?” Echo asks her in a whisper.

“Of course you did, dear. You’ve always been able to do this.” That can’t be true. Clavia walks over to the wooden podium. “Thank you for coming to the first annual School of Clavia Graduation Ceremony. The Class of 2500 may be small, but he is mighty, and I hope all of you will welcome him into the Sixth Key with open arms. As he is our only student, Mr. Cloudbearer is valedictorian by default, but make no mistake, he would have earned this spot either way. In a group of a hundred trillion, I have no doubt that he would still be sitting up here with me today, preparing to give a speech.”

Echo stands up to whisper to her again. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“I told you to prepare a speech,” she reminds him.

“Yes, but I always thought I would be giving it to the wind. Now that there are people to hear me, I don’t know if what I wrote down is right.”

“Just speak from the heart,” she says. It’s a cliché, but reasonable advice.

“Okay.” He’s still nervous, but determined. At least he’s determined to be determined, if that makes any sense. He’s about to sit back down so Clavia can finish her introduction, but she points to the podium with both hands, indicating that she already is. So he steps up to it.

“You got this,” Clavia encourages as she’s sitting back down.

He looks out at the crowd before him. Some of them are still confused, but they’re intrigued more than anything. It seems harmless enough; a graduation ceremony. No one has tried to run away or attack them, or even stand to question. He’s gonna be okay. This is gonna work out. “I was born alone.” Wait, that’s not what was in his notes. “I did not have parents.” That isn’t true at all. “I didn’t even have a planet.” That’s really not true. They’re standing on it right now. “I had to create it myself out of random scattered atoms in the void. I don’t know how I did this. I just knew that I had to. I had to...make form. My consciousness was floating in the nothingness for who knows how long. Still, even with two arms, two legs, I was alone. I conjured new lifeforms in my imagination. They cared for me, and taught me how to live. But it was really just me. I know everything. I know...everything.” He points to someone in the front row. “You may look like Leona Delaney, but you are Arcadia Preston. How would you like to feel like yourself again?” With a wave on his hand, she transforms into someone new. The man next to her is stunned, but pleased. It’s her husband, Vearden Haywood.

“I am the divine manifestation of your reality,” Echo goes on. “You have been chosen to come here and bear witness to the rise of my power. You live in different parts of the galaxy, and originate from each of the five original parallel realities. I will send you back to where you belong, and you will tell of my grandeur. You will warn the leaders of your society that they are nothing compared to me. You will halt all wars, and cleanse yourselves of all hate. You follow me now.” He pauses for effect, and it’s enough time to get himself out of the trance, if only for a little while. Who is this man, resonating Echo’s vocal cords, and flapping his lips? He is no powerful divine entity. He’s just Echo Cloudbearer; a simple man leading a simple life on the outskirts of civilization. None of what he’s saying is true, and it’s certainly not right. He turns his head to look at Clavia. She’s smirking. Or is it more of a grimace? He didn’t do well with his emotion detection tests. He might not be cut out as valedictorian after all.

Clavia gestures for him to continue.

His darker self is trying to take back over. The real Echo can’t stop it. He’s not strong enough. He didn’t know that he needed to fight. Clavia never taught him. He studies her face one last time before his chin forces itself away. She’s quite happy. This was her plan all along. She was never teaching Echo anything. She was fostering this other evil force. She was turning him into this. He lets go. “I am the man who invented God, and became God. There is no truth beyond what I make it. There is no will outside of mine. I am all that exists, and you are all still alive...because I deem it so. Please know that I ask this with absolutely no sincerity.” He takes another dramatic pause, but Echo’s good soul is too weak to break free this time, and resume control of the body. It’s over. “Are there any questions?”

There’s an explosion in the back. Over a dozen people appear out of the spacetime tears, and reassemble themselves into solid beings. He doesn’t recognize any of them, except for one. She looks exactly like Clavia. She doesn’t stand there with the same air of self-importance, though, and she doesn’t appear to be the leader. Someone else steps forward. “My name is Hogarth Pudeyonavic. I am here to negotiate for the freedom of the citizens of the Sixth Key. My first demand is that you release the prisoners.”

“They’re not my prisoners,” Echo insists. “They’re my audience.”

Hogarth holds firm. “If you do not send them back to where they belong safely, I will do it myself, and send you somewhere not so safe.”

“It’s okay,” Clavia decides, placing her hand upon Echo’s shoulder. “We don’t need them anymore.”

“What did you do to me?” Perhaps the good part of Echo does remain.

“I helped you come out of your shell,” she replied. This is the real Echo. Everything you told these people is true. I’ve shown you. You just need to put the pieces together.”

Echo turns his head forwards again. While he’s contemplating Clavia’s claim, he waves his hand again, and spirits the audience away. The exploding invaders are all that’s left, but he’s not paying them any intention. He’s going back over his lessons. He’s rewatching the Big Bang, the coalescence of Earth in the Sol System, the splitting of reality, the Reconvergence, and the consolidation of the former peoples of these realities. That’s not it. That’s not what she’s talking about. It’s something else. Something small. No, someone small. She’s curled up in the middle of nothing, trapped in the space between spaces. She’s trying to find a way out, and back home to her friends, but growing frustrated. She shouts. Energy flows out of her, and into the void. Within the cloud of infrasubatomic dust, a galaxy takes shape. It’s small, but only from this perspective. Hundreds of billions of stars, waiting to be populated by the refugees. It’s the Sixth Key, and above it, its creator. Olimpia Sangster. He wasn’t born alone. She is his mother. And he has to find her. He scowls at Clavia.

“Oh, shit,” she says. “That’s not what I meant.” This asshole tree is goin’ down.

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The Sixth Key: His World Rocked (Part III)

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Clavia detailed her history, and how she came to be the consciousness of a tree. She’s actually an amalgamation of multiple people. They were all dying next to this tree’s parent—for lack of a better term. The tree was dying too, under attack from a small but powerful enemy. It provided them with one last hope in the form of a seed that could one day be replanted. The fruit containing this seed ended up in the mouth of one of the allies, a woman by the name of Ingrid Alvarado, who is now the primary intelligence of the new tree. That wasn’t blood on her face that Echo saw when she first showed up here. It was the juice of the fruit. Her body was dead, though, so at least he didn’t bury someone alive. It’s a good thing that he did, because it’s what allowed the seed to find purchase, and grow into the magnificent specimen standing here today. The humanoid form of Clavia is an extension of it, and as of yet, it’s unclear how far she can stray from her home. For now, she’s been mostly staying in the garden. Together, they hope to work through ways to protect themselves from any hostile forces.

Echo doesn’t know how fast the ships can go, but his original guess was that it would take two years for another one to arrive, if it ever did. They evidently detected Clavia’s birth, but it was a year before the first strangers came. If it took them a year to get back to wherever they came from, no one else will be able to make it until another year after that. According to Clavia, however, this is wrong. The people here are capable of traveling a lot faster than that. They can cross the whole galaxy in a matter of moments if they use the right equipment. Echo doesn’t really have the frame of reference for what she means, so she has started giving him some schooling. His parents educated him in science a little while they were alive, but it seems they deliberately chose to leave some things out. He now believes that they didn’t want him to develop too much of a sense of wonder for what might be hiding amongst the stars. It’s not that they were trying to protect him from the dangers, but they no longer had the means to reach such great distances, or even communicate to others. They didn’t want him to long for something that he could never have.

Looking back, their reasoning was sound, but it is now out of date. Their shuttle is not irreparable, not with a superintelligent tree around. Clavia is getting smarter and stronger every day, which is good, because someone else does appear to be on their way here. She once again doesn’t know who they are, or what they want, but the two of them are going to be more prepared than ever. Despite their ability to travel so quickly, the oncomers are moving at a really slow pace. Clavia doesn’t know why that is either, but they’re going to take advantage of the delay.

 They spend the next week on an intensive crash course so Echo can learn all he needs to know about the universe. He learns that it’s made up of five conflicting cultures, which were once separated across different realities. Each one had everything they needed until they were thrown together and suddenly had to share their resources with each other. That was a hundred years ago, and this new society had been on the brink of war ever since. The only thing that has kept them together is the result of a series of diplomatic discussions amongst the leaders, and a healthy interest in everyone minding their own business. They’re still pretty separated, which sounds like a bad thing, but it seems to be going well. At least for now. What they need is a true leader. They need someone to unite the civilizations. Everyone needs to be following the same rules, and listening to the same visionary. For some reason, Clavia believes that Echo can be that leader. He’s not so sure. He’s never led before. Until recently, he hadn’t even met anyone before.

“You didn’t talk to people in your simulations?” Clavia questions.

“They were mostly only there as background,” Echo explains. “I don’t think that the program was all that sophisticated. They allowed me to feel like I was doing a number of activities, like swimming, piloting a spacecraft, or even flying through the air. However, they didn’t have any socialization functions, as my parents would call them.”

“Hm. Well, I have simulations of my own, and they don’t have any limits. Would you like to try one of them?” Clavia offers.

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind seeing something new.” Echo doesn’t want to seem too eager, but he is.

“Do I have permission to touch you?”

“Go ahead.”

She opens her arms, and walks up to him, taking him into a hug. His mom and dad hugged him all the time, but this is different. He’s feeling something he hasn’t ever felt before. Sure, there were stirrings, but nothing this substantial. They’re probably bad thoughts, so he shoves them to the side, and lets Clavia do whatever she’s trying to do.

He finds himself falling through the air. No, it’s more like the ground disappeared, and now air is rushing up past him. New ground gets larger and larger until he’s standing upon it. It’s not a desert, nor a garden, but the trees of a city. Cars are moving next to him. They’re honking their horns, and yelling unintelligibly at each other. People walking by him on the sidewalk are talking, to each other, and on their little computer boxes. Flashing signs litter the tops of the nearby buildings. He can read most of the words, but he doesn’t know what their purpose is.

“Advertisements,” Clavia explains. She’s walking up to him wearing something that she wasn’t wearing before. Her dress was simple and unremarkable, only there to cover her skin. It wasn’t all that different than what Echo wore before he put on his father’s suit. Her outfit now is stylish and fancy. Her pants are gray and slick. She has a gray jacket over a white blouse, showing some skin in between the two sides. Echo is having those stirrings again, so he shakes it off, and tries to focus on her eyes. And that hat. What kind of hat is that? “A fedora,” Clavia answers.

He didn’t ask that out loud. He just thought about it. “Huh?”

“I can read your mind in here,” Clavia says. “This isn’t like one of your simulations, where you just connect to a piece of technology. We’re sharing a brain, and with that, our thoughts.”

Oh, that might not be good.

She smiles. “It’s okay to look. You’ve been alone your whole life. It isn’t natural. They should have given you friends...like these.”

A man wearing a chef’s uniform walks up to Echo out of nowhere. “Hey, Mister Cloudbearer. How you doin’?”

“Good, good, thank you.”

“All right, my man,” the cher responds.

“Hey, Echo.” It’s a young woman. She’s quite pretty, and she looks interested in him. She smiles but doesn’t stop walking by.

“Echo, what’s up, dude?” A teenager is standing on a mailbox. Some people are paying attention, but others are ignoring him. “Check this out!” What is he holding? It’s long, and has wheels on it. He’s never seen it before, but the word suddenly comes to him. It’s a skateboard. The kid holds it out in front of him, then jumps off of the mailbox. He lands on the board, and starts rolling around, much to the annoyance of the nearest passersby. One of the wheels hits a pebble, and he falls forward, but still manages to land on his feet. “Ah, boofed it. Maybe you can show me again later?”

“Sure, kid.” Why did he say that? Echo never taught this non-existent person anything.

Other people start approaching Echo. They all act like they’re friends, and that they admire him greatly. He’s on top of the world here; a real popular guy. He was once afraid to talk to other people. He didn’t think it would ever happen anyway, but he was scared out of his mind that he would screw it up if the unthinkable happened. But you know what? Even though none of this is real, he did encounter four people the other day, and he handled it well. He wanted them to leave, and they eventually did. He won the argument. Despite his lack of experience, he could do this. When this new group of people come here, he’ll take care of them too, no matter what they want from him, or the tree. If they don’t have honorable intentions, they’re gonna wish they did.

“All right, that’s enough,” Clavia declares. The crowd freezes, though they’re all still looking at Echo enthusiastically.

“You can make anything?” Echo asks her.

“Like I said, it’s not like one of your parents’ sims. I don’t have to program anything. I just...think of it. What else do you want to see?”

Echo looks up towards the sky, and thinks about it. “Hmm. The whole galaxy.”

“Easy,” she says. The street and buildings in front of them begin to roll away. Then the entire planet that they’re standing on does the same, like a giant marble spinning through outer space. The two of them keep flying backwards as the stars fly away from them, and then start to streak across the sky. Suddenly it all stops, and they can see a galaxy, rotating at an angle in the middle of a black void. It’s so beautiful, glowing with the fire of hundreds of billions of suns.

He admires it silently for a few moments.

“Not one second has passed for us in the real world,” Clavia claims. “I can teach you so many things while we’re in here. I can make you feel like you’ve lived an entire lifetime in one day. I can show you what life has been like for everyone else; in the five original realities, and after the creation of the Sixth Key. I can turn you into the leader that I know you can be.”

“What do you get out of this?” Echo asks.

“Why would I need anything out of it? Is that how your parents raised you, to need something for your efforts?”

“They did not, but in the regular simulations, I often had to wait in line, like if I wanted to go on an amusement park ride, or order food. I couldn’t carry on a conversation with one of the backgrounders, but I could hear them talk to each other. I noticed a drive towards balance. Unfairness meant one person having something that the other did not. They wanted everything to be even. No one wants to lose, or sacrifice. And I always had to pay. It was fake money to me, but real to them.”

“Well,” Clavia begins, “I’m not one of your background actors. I’m a tree.”

Echo chuckles. “True. I recognize that I don’t know how humans work regardless. Yes, Clavia, I would love it if you showed me.”

She smiled wider. “Great. Then let’s get started. How about we go back to the beginning, during a little event that we call...the big bang?”

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The Sixth Key: Kick Rocks (Part II)

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Generated by Google VideoFX text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 2

Clavia helps Echo learn how to use his parents’ guns. They’re energy weapons, which means they’ll be able to fire indefinitely as long as he doesn’t fire too much, and they have a source of charge, like the sun. Something called radio waves would charge it too, but there aren’t any of those around here. He doesn’t become an expert marksman in only a few short hours, but at least he has the basics down. Point and shoot, that much was immediately apparent, but the safety and handling was a little less intuitive.

According to the sensors on board the shuttle, as fed into Echo’s new suit, a ship appeared out of nowhere, and began to orbit the planet. It scanned the surface in some way, but hasn’t done anything else since. Clavia taught him how to set up an alarm to wake him when anything changes, so he can go to bed, and get some rest. The next morning, he checks the sensors to find that the alarm hasn’t failed. The orbiting ship up there still isn’t doing anything. They’ve not fired any weapons at the tree, or come down in a shuttle of their own, or anything. What are they waiting for?

“My mind is clouded,” Clavia explains. “I cannot see detail. I can sense that people are walking around inside the vessel, but I can’t tell what they’re doing. Unfortunately, I need to focus my strength on other pursuits.”

“I understand.” He doesn’t, but she should do whatever she needs to. “Do you think they know that we’re here?”

“It depends on how sophisticated their sensors are, and on the nature of the planet we’re on. This appears to be a lush garden centered on a desert. If the rest of the world is just as barren, this will stick out like a sore thumb. But it may be one of many oases, in which case they would need to pick up on you as an individual. I also don’t know whether your suit and shuttle are sufficiently shielded, or what.”

Echo nods, and decides to go back to practicing. The great thing about guns like these is that he can shoot blanks as much as he wants while barely dipping into the power reserves. Indeed, while the sun is shining, solar power will keep it running even if he never stops squeezing the trigger for the duration of daylight hours. He’s not doing any damage, as he’s just sending beams of light towards the rocks and the flowers, but it gives him a good idea of what it will be like if he ever has to do it for real.

Either as a coincidence, or because the visitors detected his weapons fire, they finally send a landing party in a shuttle. They don’t land too close to the garden, which is respectful of them, or maybe it’s also a coincidence. Echo doesn’t walk over to greet them halfway. He just stands under the Clavia tree, holding one of the guns at what Clavia called high ready. The second one is leaning against the trunk. He has extra cartridges attached to his hips too, but it doesn’t look like he’ll be needing them. One of these things would be able to take out the entire crew of the shuttle. It appears to only be four people, though obviously there are more still up on the ship. Clavia doesn’t know what kind of weaponry they have, up there, or down here. The four who are walking towards them now don’t appear to be armed at all.

“Can they hear you, or is your voice in my head?” he mutters out of the corner of his mouth.

“They can hear me if I want them too, and not if I don’t.”

“Let me do the talking. They may not know that you can talk, and I would like to keep that as an advantage until we have no choice.”

“Agreed,” Clavia says.

“Hello, kind soldier,” the leader guy says once they’re within earshot of each other. He’s keeping a safe distance, showing a healthy fear of Echo’s gun. The other three strangers are scattered next to and behind him. “My name is Klavis Zakan Scrivenor. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking to today?”

“Klavis?” Echo echoes.

“No relation,” Clavia replies simply.

“It’s my rank?” Zakan answers like it’s a question. “I command a single flotilla of ships...four to be exact.”

“What is your business here?” Echo asks.

Zakan is confused. “Um, do you have a name too?”

“Oh.” Echo feels like he’s just lost the upperhand, especially since he just said oh. He should have just been steadfast, and refused to answer. But now it’s too late, he has to just go ahead and respond appropriately. “Echo Cloudbearer.”

“Do you own this world, Echo Cloudbearer?”

“I do.” I mean, he might as well. There doesn’t seem to be anyone else to claim the title, and if making such a claim grants him the legal powers to protect this tree, then he’s comfortable making it.

“What is it called?”

This is where it gets tricky. His parents could never agree on a name for it. They kept coming up with new ideas before Echo was even born, but eventually narrowed it down to Supercloud or Echo. About half the time, they would joke that their son was named after the planet, and the other half, that the planet was named after their son. He never knew which was true, or if Supercloud was the superior choice anyway. “Echo”.

“Hm,” Zakan says. “I like it. We are representatives of the Temporal Energy Management Project of Relative Associated Logistics. Basically, we’re in charge of making sure that there’s enough temporal energy to go around, and that no one is abusing the power that they have, or exploiting the substructure of the universe to their own gain, or to the destruction of reality.”

“I don’t know what any of that means,” Echo admits.

“Well, we’re relative, because the power is not evenly distributed, which some people believe sounds unfair—though, it isn’t—and it’s associated, because every time someone is allotted power, it has an impact on everyone else. That’s why it needs to be managed. It’s—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, no, no, defining it isn’t going to help me understand it. It sounds like you just really wanted your acronym to spell out TEMPORAL.”

Zakan just clears his throat.

“Why are you here? I keep to myself. I don’t have any power.”

Zakan gestures to Clavia. “That tree behind you would seem to contradict your words.”

Echo decides to play dumb. “This is just a tree. It can’t contradict anything. It can’t even walk.”

Zakan smiles and sighs. He looks around the vast empty flatlands surrounding them. “We detected the energy spike that was prompted by some kind of temporal event right at this location. I don’t know if it teleported here, or if it was here all along, and suddenly absorbed a whole lot of power, but my guess is that you were around to see whatever it was. After all, you’re standing in front of it right now. You were up there when we showed up. You must think it’s meaningful too. If you thought you needed to protect your garden as a whole, you’d be standing right here.” He points to his feet where the grass of the garden gives way to the dirt of the desert.

Okay, maybe he needs to switch tactics. “Does it matter? If it’s here, it’s mine. And since this is all mine, so are you. So you four have two choices. You can fly back up to your little ship, and tell your captain to leave, or you can stay here and do my bidding. The atterberries are about ready to be harvested.”

“What did you say?”

“The atterberries,” Echo repeated. “Those pink things over there. You could pick them, or you could leave. You have no jurisdiction on this world, though. My word is law. My word is the only law.”

“What’s—what’s this stuff here?” He slid the sole of his shoe along a rock.

“That’s amanda moss. It’s not edible. I use it for...other things.” Wiping.

“And that?”

“It’s, uh, vearden hay. I use it as a ground cover. Why all the sudden interest in my garden? I thought you only cared about some tree.”

“Just curious.” Zakan steps forward. “What do you call this creature warming itself on this boulder?”

Echo can’t see from this far away, but he knows what the man’s talking about. “It’s probably a clemens newt.”

“One last thing, this one here?”

“A savi tree.”

Zakan exchanges a look with his people. “Which reality is your family from?”

“Um, this one?”

“No, I mean originally.”

“I have no clue where you’re going with this.”

“I don’t recognize that kind of gun. Do you?” he asks the woman standing at his flank.

She shakes her head quietly.

“My guess is Parallel or Fifth Division,” Zakan goes on cryptically, “but the main sequence had some nice stuff before they were copied here.”

“Can I help you?” Echo interrupts the internal conversation they’re having down there. He’s done playing nice. He wants them gone. He doesn’t want to have to hurt anyone to do it, but he will if they give him no choice.

“I’m afraid we can’t leave until we run our tests. We need to know what sort of impact this tree is having on the rest of the galaxy. It’s for the safety of everyone in the universe.”

Echo tenses up. “Get closer.”

Zakan himself doesn’t move, but his people reach their arms out to magically materialize their own guns. “We don’t need to get very close.”

“That’s enough!” It’s Clavia’s voice, but there’s something a little different about it. It sounds like it’s coming from a specific location, instead of just around him in general. Someone appears from behind the tree. It’s the dead woman who he buried here. She lives. It wasn’t just a magical seed, but it had something to do with who was holding it.

“Who are you?” Zakan asks.

“Who you seek, in humanoid form.”

Zakan holds his hand up by his shoulder. The other three lower their guns in response. Two of them make them disappear again, but his lieutenant keeps hers. “You are the tree.”

“We are,” she replies. “You may call us Clavia.”

“We’ll have to confirm that,” Zakan insists.

“Do that, and only that,” Clavia replies. “Do more, and you’ll regret it.”

Now Zakan lifts his other hand, and shakes it twice towards the hill. The now unarmed pair of visitors cross the boundary of the garden, and walk up to Clavia. She holds her own hand towards to stop Echo from reacting further when he tenses up again. The strangers begin to run their tests. They hover little devices over Clavia’s human body, and over the tree. They look at the little screens to interpret the readings, whatever they may be. Echo wouldn’t know the first thing about what they’re looking for, but Clavia seems calm, so he’s just gonna follow her lead.

One of the testers nods over at Zakan. “It’s her. She’s the tree.”

“Okay. Pack it up, kids. We’re leaving.”

“Wait,” Echo says. “Not that I’m complaining, but what just happened? What did you do? What did you discover? Why is it making you leave?”

“The source of the temporal energy is sentient,” Zakan begins to explain. “It’s natural and unregulated. As you said, we have no jurisdiction. It would be like me telling you that you’re not allowed to use that moss to wipe your ass. That’s someone else’s department.”

“Well...” Echo paused. “Thank you and goodbye.”

“You’ll be filing a report, though, won’t you?” Clavia guesses as most of the team is walking back towards their shuttle.

“I have no choice,” Zakan says apologetically.

“So the right department might show up too,” Echo calculates.

“Undoubtedly,” Zakan confirms. “She’s an interesting find.”

The shuttle takes off. About fifteen minutes later, the ship breaks orbit, and flies away into the black. Echo’s shuttle’s sensors stop picking any signals, and the world falls silent once more.

“You’re a person,” he points out.

“It’s complicated.”

Echo smiles. “I don’t have anything else going on. Tell me your story.”

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The Sixth Key: Living Under a Rock (Part I)

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Generated by Google VideoFX text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 2

When all the inhabited terrestrial bodies and ships in the five previous concurrent realities were sent into the Sixth Key, they were mostly dumped where they were, relative to each other. There were a number of exceptions. Residents of the Parallel had managed to colonize just about every rock worth standing on in their version of the Milky Way. This included a bunch of random rogue worlds, and some planetoids, but nearly all of the more massive ones too. Other realities had done the same thing, just to a fraction of a fraction of a degree. This meant that there were multiple Proxima Domas, multiple Teagardens, multiple Waizidis, even if they went by other names. There was plenty of room in the new universe, but it threw off the gravitational distribution. There were also some worlds from other galaxies that had to be ported over. Another thing that altered the gravity was a lack of a central black hole. Sagittarius A* was not habitable on its own. It was too dense, and too deadly. Some used it for power, but there wasn’t anyone standing on its surface, and if there was no one on its surface, it wasn’t saved.

There was an empty void in the middle of the galaxy now. Some star systems that were orbiting their version of it were sent flying through space on a new trajectory, filling this void with the occasional isolate. One of these worlds happened to only have two people standing on it. It didn’t even have a name, but since it was supporting life when the Reconvergence happened, it too was shunted through the cosmic escape hatch. Not only did Echo’s parents not know that any of this was gonna happen, but they also didn’t know that anything had happened. All they could tell was that they lost all communication systems, and they were stuck there. Alone.

They made the best of their situation. The planet had an atmosphere, though not much life. They had to plant and grow their own food, but they took joy in their work, and they were happy. They ultimately conceived a child together, and raised him there the best they could. They socialized him in a virtual simulation filled with NPCs, but in the end, it was just the three of them. And then it was just two. And then it was just one. Echo Cloudbearer has been entirely on his own for the last few years, not knowing how to get to civilization, or even really whether he should. He spends some of his time in the simulations, but has grown bored with them over the years, and visits them infrequently these days. He mostly sits amongst the flowers, and strolls along the pond. It’s not perfect, but it’s home, and he’s content. This is all about to change.

As Echo is sitting against his favorite rock, he hears a whistling sound from up above that he’s never heard before. A body appears out of nowhere up in the air, and falls down hard on the ground. It’s glowing red. He approaches with caution, but he can’t get too close. A searing heat is threatening to burn off his eyebrows. He just stands there watching as the glow fades, and the body cools off. It’s a beautiful woman, and she’s not moving. She must be dead, and not because of the fall, but the metal object that’s jammed in the back of her head. When it feels safe, he kneels down beside her, and checks her life signs using the skills his parents taught him. Yeah, this woman’s definitely dead. He looks back up at the sky. Could it be? Did she fall through the atmosphere? No, she wouldn’t still be intact, and he’s sure he saw her appear out of thin air, not simply grow larger and larger as she fell closer and closer. All this time without ever meeting another soul, and the first new person he sees is already dead. What a joke.

Saddened by this bizarre and disappointing development, Echo does his duty, and buries her in the ground. There is no way for him to know if this is what she would have wanted, but that is what his parents told him to do with them after they were gone. Once he’s finished with his work, he stands beside her grave out of respect. He wants to say something nice and reverent, but again, he never knew her, and he’s also very inexperienced with talking. He isn’t necessarily naturally quiet, or reserved. It’s just that he and his parents knew each other so well. They had a shorthand, and often got things done without needing to speak. He grew used to that, and after they left him, he had even less of a reason to open his mouth. So he just stands there for several minutes, staring at the mound of dirt piled upon the new grave. After enough time passes, he just goes about his usual business.

The next morning, Echo does what he does every day, and wakes up to stand on the hill. He likes to survey the land. This is the best vantage point in the area. This is where his parents originally settled, and he has never left. There doesn’t seem to be a need to. Everything he could ever need is right here. That’s why he buried the stranger on this hill. It seemed like she deserved it, whoever she was. He quickly realizes, though, that now it can no longer be his lookout spot. It’s not his anymore, but hers. Something green in the dirt catches his eye. Is that a blade of grass in the center? He reaches down to get it out there so it’s more uniform, but discovers it to be stuck in the dirt. It’s...growing from it? He didn’t plant anything here, and even if he had, he tilled it up so much for the burial that no shoot could have survived long enough to be visible already. No, this doesn’t make any sense. Echo knows every species that grows here. There aren’t that many, so it was easy to learn when and how to plant them, which ones to plant separately, how much water each type needs. This kind of looks like one of his ohedlan trees, but there’s something off about it.

Echo continues to go about his life. He eats, he sleeps in his shallow little cave, and he makes waste. Each morning, the new magical tree has grown taller. The bigger it gets, the less it looks like an ohedlan tree, or anything else he’s familiar with. His best guess is that the dead woman had a seed of alien origin in her pocket, and it fell out while he was burying her. He tends to it, just as he would any other plant in his little garden. He makes sure that it gets water, and protects it from the kol beetles. They may be here to help, not hurt, but he can’t tell, and the tree remains too young for him to take the risk. Perhaps when its older, he can find out what they do to it. For now, this is his baby, and he’s not going to let anything happen to it.

It’s the fastest-growing tree he’s ever seen. In only about a year, it’s at full maturity, with a hardy trunk, strong branches, and blue leaves. It’s beginning to flower, but is not yet bearing fruit. That’s when it starts to talk to him. He’s not even all that surprised. He knew there was something special about it right away. The fact that it seems to have a brain is crazy, and he’s never heard of it before, but he understands that he knows very little about how the rest of the universe works. This could be entirely normal elsewhere. “What is your name?” the voice asks.

“Echo Cloudbearer. Yours?”

“We have had many names, but I have decided to settle on Clavia.”

“Are there more than one of you?”

“There once was,” Clavia replies. “We are now one.”

This is unsettling to Echo, though he would not be able to articulate why. “How do you grow so fast?”

“Time ain’t nothing but a thang.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“We spoke up to warn you. You have shown us kindness where you did not have to. You could have let us fend for ourselves, and perhaps even died, yet you put in effort to help. We owe you a debt of gratitude.”

“Tending to my garden is all I have to do,” Echo replies. It’s true. His life is pretty easy going. He has the kol beetles to contend with, and a few other critters, but for the most part, the plants take care of themselves. They’re low maintenance, yet they still bear fruit. His life may be boring, but it’s satisfying.

“Still, you deserve to know that you will not be alone for long, and we do not mean us. We are still young and weak, and will not be able to protect you. Others will come. They’re coming for us. You must leave this place, and find somewhere to hide. They will harm you if you stand in their way, and they may interpret you as a threat whether you mean it or not.”

“What will they do when they get to you?” Echo questions.

“That is none of your concern,” Clavia says nicely. “You must hide,” she repeats.

“I protected you as a sapling, and I’ll protect you now. That is how I was raised. To hide would be to dishonor my parents, and I will not succumb to my fears.”

Clavia doesn’t respond right away. “Very well. We respect your wishes. There is not much that you will be able to do, though. To answer your question, we do not fully grasp the intentions of those coming for us. We know only that they are on their way. We believe that they detected our birth, and are coming to investigate.”

“When?”

“Tonight.”

“I’ll be ready.”

While it’s true that Echo’s parents settled in this spot, it is not where they first landed. On the other side of the rock formation in the middle distance lay the remnants of their shuttle. It did not crash, but it was damaged during a lightning storm, and has been gathering dust ever since. They stayed there for a few months while they were starting the garden, at which point they abandoned it forever. It was never forbidden for Echo to venture this far out, but he’s only been here once, and hasn’t had any reason to return until now. There are weapons here. He doesn’t know how to use them, but perhaps the sentient tree knows. That’s not all he’s after. Echo wears very little as the environment here is almost always favorable. Even when it rains, the temperature is mild, and the wind isn’t too bad. His clothes were apparently made out of seat upholstery, and other miscellaneous fabrics from their shuttle, but that’s not what the two of them were wearing when they arrived. They were in spacesuits with all sorts of tools and gadgets attached. After they died, he removed their suits from their bodies, and connected them to some kind of port on the outside of the shuttle, as per their instructions. He was told that they would be ready by now, but they never explained what they meant by that. He’s grown up to be about the same size as his father was, so his suit fits perfectly. It’s a lot more comfortable than his regular outfit too, he feels so safe and contained.

“We did not know you had that,” Clavia acknowledges. “We can only see things that are happening, not conditions that remain static.”

“You know now. What about these things? Will they be useful to us?” Echo’s parents called them guns.

“Those are dangerous...but we can teach you.”

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