Galactica: Book 1 - Via Lactea

 

The Atlanteans were busy removing the carcasses of the Insect ships as quickly as possible, while moving the injured into stasis pods in prevision of moving them to Thebes. Alexander had decided it would be quicker to transfer the Pods two abreast into the Caterpillar ship with their twenty-four hour autonomy rather than have to manage the nightmare of bidirectional traffic. The Engineers rigged the power supply of the Pods so micro-Crystals would be used to feed 20 cryogenic stasis pods at a time, and packed them in every nook an cranny they could find. The Marsupials were a bit worried, but they had enough sense to know they had lost control of their own ship and that the Atlanteans, or the Strangers, as they referred to those strange bipeds between themselves, were probably doing something to save their wounded, even if they could not fathom what was done.

Three hours into the process, the first good news came to the attention of Alexander. One of the junior Linguists that had accompanied the Diplomatic Corps finally managed to get the attention of a crew member after emitting a sound well above the ultrasound range. From there, she began collecting a sound dictionary and associate them with objects found on the ship. An hour later appeared the first sounds associated with actions, verbs, followed shortly with basic adjectives indicating relative size of objects, quickly followed by the notion of far and close. The next step was the need of scales, which required the introduction of numbers.

"Continue the good work. I am waiting on the report from Isosceles the Unicorn on the external cleanup. I am surprised we have no outside view yet."

"Prince Alexander, the cargo bay doors are cleared. We shall be moving a considerable number of cryogenic stasis Pods through them as soon as we manage to install a force field to keep the atmosphere in place. They have no force field technology on-board," reported the Chief Engineer of the 4^th Swarm. "My colleagues from the 5^th and 6^th Swarms have just about completed the removal of the Insect garbage."

"How come the sensors and the windows are not yet cleared?"

"We shall do it shortly, in fact, as soon as the tractor beam is activated. We are currently located 100 miles off Thebes, and our home looks impressive to say the least when you compare it to that ship. Isosceles discussed things with Thorsten, and they agreed it would be better to keep the Caterpillar safely bounded to us rather than have to hunt it down if they panicked. The reactors are clear, but our Engineers have disconnected their control chips, which are rather primitive. They would probably have exploded in the event of an emergency overload, sectioning the rear segment completely. That is probably why they could not escape the Insect Hive ships, which, seem to be extremely fast and agile from what all three of us Chief Engineers have managed to piece together."

"I was on Thebes’ Bridge during the initial battle, and I can confirm your evaluation. They are quick, not quick enough to survive us, but quick nonetheless."

"Sir, Swarm Five requests the authorisation to return to the Mother Ship."

"Granted. Remind them they need to take a swim in the Primary."

"Done, Sir."

"Tell Swarms One and Sixth to return to the Mother Ship as well. We will finish the cleanup. How many Marsupials are still active on-board the Caterpillar?"

"Somewhere around 50,000, your Highness, mostly the Engineers, the medical, and their officers. The others have been put in stasis pods, waiting for transit to Thebes."

"I wish we had a crew list and numbers."

"One of the Diplomatic Corps is working with their Supply Officer to establish their numbers. This ship may be small compared to Thebes, your Highness, but it carried quite a large number of individuals. Quite clearly, it is a colonisation effort turned bad."

"It might have succeeded without the intervention of the Insects."

Just as the first bay window began getting cleared by a group of Atlanteans of its sticky cover of Insect Ship, another Diplomat made his way to Alexander wearily.

"Your Highness?"

"Yes?" replied Alexander gruffly.

"I have the numbers."

"What numbers?"

"The crew and passenger numbers of this ship."

"And what are they?"

"There were 300,000 crew members, and 30,000,000 passengers, of which 1,000,000 were children. Their objective was a star located some 35 light-years from our current position, a small yellow dwarf star, G7, much smaller than the Earth’s sun, and more orange in colour. That space ship’s maximum speed was 25% of the speed of light, and it was still accelerating when the attack occurred."

"Interesting. That means their home world is very close. We now have a clear communication with Thebes. Let me think this over. Thebes? What is our current speed relative to the speed of light?"

"We are currently travelling at 20% of the speed of light, Alexander."

"How long ago has the Caterpillar ship left its home world?"

"From what I managed to understand, they left ten years ago and had been under constant acceleration since then."

"That means they gained 2% on the speed of light per year. Thebes, what are the stars located within two light-years from our current position?"

"The area is rather dense. I count three star systems, excluding the brown dwarf."

"Determine the point of origin of the Caterpillar ship assuming it followed a straight line."

"There are two stars within the trajectory with a probability of error of less than ,001%, your Highness."

"How is that possible?"

"The two stars are converging. We are too far to determine if they will collide or not."

Typhoon had been following the exchange with growing concern.

"Thebes, establish the origin of the Insect Hive heading our way."

"It comes from that same area."

"Which one of the stars is the prime suspect?"

"It is difficult to establish, since both star systems contain gaseous giants."

"I see. Do we have cargo bays?"

"No, not in the sense you mean, King Typhoon. My body contains Tessaracts, not big holes that open to the outside void."

"How much time before we can trigger the tractor beam, Alexander?"

"Give us another half an hour. By then, the only part that will not be clear is the reactor opening, and it will still be pulled."

"Do you want us to repatriate your Swarm?"

"We need to begin putting those that move into stasis. We can not let them roam the ship when you accelerate, it would be unsafe. They have no damper fields."

"That may prove difficult."

"Yes. I am aware of the situation. But we are making headway with the communication issue. I hope that the Diplomatic Corps has found a way to talk physics with them. Anyway, get ready for traction, and then we will accelerate at their gravitational pull times two. That should be tolerable if painful for them."

"King Typhoon, the 6^th Swarm is ready for recovery from the Primary."

"Split them in Thebes rather than send them to the recovery deck. I want them to deal with the seven rebel clusters. Ian? You want to dig your teeth in Rebels, I heard. Here’s your chance. Harp, I think I can run this tub without your help for half an hour. Accompany Mark, Ovid and Zen are to accompany you. I think the three Mages are willing to show their capacities to you. Keep three Hordes as back-up, on rapid deployment notice."

Greywolf notified the proper Horde commanders of their new assignment, and then triggered the layered recall sequence. He then contacted the 5^th Swarm to get ready for their disinfection pass in the brown dwarf. Less than 20 minutes later, the 5^th Swarm began materialising in the recovery deck from which they had left. As soon as the last member of his intervention group had materialised, Isosceles made his way to the Bridge to fill in his post-operation report to Typhoon. As he walked into the Bridge, he heard Typhoon give orders.

"Activate traction. Alexander, you wanted to be informed when the Insects would be five minutes off. It is now the case. Ready yourself for acceleration."

"Everyone grip something that is fixed! We will be accelerating in five minutes!" replied Alexander. "All external teams report inside the Caterpillar! Three minutes to lock-down!"

Three minutes later, the last air lock was closed and the EVA officer reported everyone in.

"Activate traction beam, Typhoon. We are all in!"

Typhoon nodded to Samson that pressed the release and gradually pushed the lever forward, bringing the traction beam online.

"It is locked! I am beginning the pull-in!"

"When it is set on the side of Thebes’ outer shell, reactivate the shields."

"Two minutes to lock-down!" Samson said.

"Three minutes to the Insects’ arrival!" Greywolf noted.

"Lock-down!"

"Accelerate at twice their internal gravity! Pull us away from the Insect Armada. Full shields!"

"It will not be sufficient! They are gaining on us!" Greywolf informed the Bridge.

"Leave a string of antimatter mines behind us, one ounce apiece. That should be enough to distract them. Dispersal at 45°!"

The mines, numbering several thousands, were left behind, moving at various speeds to allow a cascade of detonations. The mines measuring 5 inches around and painted black, were just about invisible.

"The Insects are twenty seconds to the mine field!" reported Greywolf.

"Fourth Swarm! Brace! Brace! Brace! Twenty seconds to antimatter detonations!" ordered Typhoon. "Shields to 150%!"

Alexander’s Soldiers gripped the now considerably reduced numbers of free-roaming crew members of the Caterpillar and held them tight between themselves and the inner walls of the alien space ship. Several seconds later Thebes got buffeted by the destruction of the nearest Insect ships, and, even if most of the energy got absorbed by the shields, some did manage to get through and hit the rear of the Atlantean space ship, pushing it and the Caterpillar forward violently.

"The next wave is is 15 seconds. Try to move as many into stasis chambers as possible. We should be a fair distance from them by then so the detonations will have less impact."

"Ok, Typhoon. We still have five segments to search in depth for crew members. It will take at least an additional five minutes before we are done."

"How are the Officers reacting?"

"I had inboard communications disabled and we started at the far end, so they are unaware of our shenanigans!"

"And I thought these tricks were reserved for Ian and Harp!"

"Hey, I take after my family!"

"I wonder why they have not reacted to Thebes’ size. Another of your dirty tricks?"

"Yes, you can say that. The only view they have of the outside gives lets them see empty space. We cleared the left bay window only."

"Paschal and Enron have finished installing a class 10 confinement field in Tessaract 13. As soon as you are done putting everyone in stasis Pods, you can begin porting them in the designed area."

"Ok. My second in command just told me we are ready to deal with the lead segment of the Caterpillar. I shall be back to you shortly."

"Acknowledged."

Alexander had been thinking about how to handle the most likely to oppose the take-over of the alien ship, the top brass of said alien vessel.

"Ok, guys. We must make it look natural. Slowly progress toward the Bridge and invite the Officers to the next segment. Make sure they see their wounded in stasis, and then invite them to lay inside the Pod as if you wanted to show them how they work. Once they are in, activate the emergency protocol, that should put them to sleep in less then ¹/₁₀^th of a second. Move the locked Pod out of view further down the segment, preferably in the next one. Repeat. Do them one at a time. It should be possible for you to reach the entrance to the Bridge without any turmoil. Tell me when you are at the door. We are five on their Bridge, and we need to handle that last step very carefully."

***

Mark, Ovid and Zen were having the party of their life. Accompanied by Harp in his Sabre-tooth Snow Leopard form and Ian shone a benevolent yellow Sun. Harp quickly asked Thebes to override the locks on the door that was blocking their progress due to the Red Alert lock-down. As the door slid open, they were met by a barrage of phaser fire which rebounded harmlessly on Harp’s magical shield. Ian majestically moved forward, taking his time to corner the defenders one at a time to roast him or her.

«Let the Heir enjoy himself. After what happened to Nestor, he needs to let some steam out.»

«From what I see,» remarked Ovid, «It is those he corners that let some steam out!»

«When will it be our turn?» asked Zen, as it stood half-erect, watching the traitor ³³ ("Doner qebab: Turkish, meaning standing skewer.") roast to evaporation and plasma state before being recycled into more useful components.

«Shortly. I think the shock of seeing their first line of defence literally vanish in front of their eyes is making the foresworn realise it was not a good idea to back out of their vow of fealty.»

The room went silent with the last sizzling of matter, and the First Army took defensive position in the still hot area.

«If you look at your FSS sensors, you notice it is quite hot within the room. Now you understand why I had you go through the FSS. You will not need to worry about maintaining a shield while dispensing death.»

«I wanted to bite!» pouted Zen, which gave the Snake a quite comical appearance.

«Ah but you can, Zen! Your FSS immediately adapted to your biological characteristics, and your venom will exude through the fangs. You can even increase the pleasure it gives by changing the feedback the bite gives. Just do not overdo it! We need you functional, not in the throes of an orgasm! Just look at me! I have nice teeth, and quite nice claws, even if I am encased in a FSS. I want my fun too!»

Ian cooled down enough to take his Dragon Boy form and open the next door himself.

«Your turn to have some fun, guys. I really enjoyed myself, but I am not selfish!"

The four Mages made their way into the next room to a shocking view! The Adults were holding babies in front of them as Human shields.

"One more step and we kill the Babies!" said a Man, holding a knife to the neck of a crying barely three months old Baby girl.

Ian and Harp responded immediately by sending powerful jolts of Magic that paralysed the Humans before they could harm anyone.

«Mark and Ovid, get the Babies out of their hands. They can not move for five minutes! If you need to break a few fingers, wrists or arms to get the children free, do so.»

«I am searching for the Children that could walk around to see what happened to them. All we see are those that are still dependant on their parents for displacement.»

«Ok, Harp.»

«I can help too. That FSS thing also allows me to taste the air to a much finer degree than before!» added Zen.

It became rapidly apparent that the Children had found refuge in narrow passages impractical for Adults. Zen found quite a few hidden between the floors, while Harp, much bigger, found the Teens barricaded from the Adults in a small corner of the area occupied by the felons. Zen fell on a group of Felons watching a narrow vent usually closed off by a grid, intent on capturing a marauding Child near their kitchen. His sudden fall amongst them, biting viciously at every opportunity, shocked them and they dispersed quickly. None had weapons and Zen mercilessly drove them toward the waiting Sabre-tooth Snow Leopard. Harp’s giant paws, claws fully extended, ripped their bellies open when they ran into the room where he had been waiting in ambush, as the Prince roared his disapproval of their mere existence. Behind Zen, the felons that had been bitten began to feel the effect of the venom, as their skin discoloured from the digestive enzymes injected locally, while the venom’s neurotoxin created general euphoria by damaging the central nervous system and razor-sharp pain in the immediate sensory pathways near the bite. As the venom progressed in the body through the blood stream, the neurotoxin also began paralysing the felons, which began wobbling. Finally, the last toxin attacked the blood, creating massive haemorrhages and anaphylactic shock. Death took them quietly but quickly.

The Babies released by the merciless bone-breaking done under the care of Mark and Ovid were taken over by the members of the Army and carried out of the soon to be butcher shop.

«Ok, Boys, get ready. I am releasing the magical binds. It is time to have your fun!»

As soon as the magical bounds fell, the Adults let out a collective roar of pain which quickly amplified as the two Boys began hexing them with curses all more imaginative than the previous one. Ian let them practice their Magic, surprised that both Boys even bothered to heal those they had hexed so the punishment could last longer! Boils, burns, cuts, breaking bones, the whole gamut of pain-inducing methods were applied. Finally, Ian asked them to heal the Adults so they could be interrogated. The shock of the treatment had broken mental resistance and the felons quickly told what reasoning had brought their betrayal and their ultimate demise. The leader, whom shall remain nameless, explained things in these terms.

"You are not Gods. Our Preacher told us that the only true God was Human and that he had come and given himself in sacrifice to protect us from your evil Spawns of the Devil. What you just did confirms what he said!"

"And yet you were willing to kill your Babies?"

"They are Humans, not like you!"

"That is what you think! Of the rescued Babies, nine out of ten have Magic. The one out of ten without will be put in stasis and the genetic profile rebuilt so Magic takes hold. The Human species as you know it is on the verge of extinction, and it is a good thing, given how much trouble you are. We save you from the destruction of the Earth, bring you with us in our space-ship, and how do you thank us? By fomenting rebellion, forfeiting your word, and trying to destroy the home we built for all life!"

"We do not believe the Earth got destroyed. We believe we are held prisoners here."

"Is that so? You are in luck, we are headed to Earth now. We should reach it some time soon, if we stop being interrupted by the need to rescue life forms. Since you do not believe the Earth got destroyed, do you want to be dropped where it is?" said Ian, his Dragon smile sending shivers down the spine of the oh so limited Humans!

The leader of the group looked at one man in particular, wondering what that offer meant. The look did not escape Ian.

"Is that the Priest, Preacher, or whatever you call the one whom thinks he knows God’s thoughts and tries to limit God’s options to his little belly button and narrow mindset?"

The Man rose to the bait and answered.

"I hear God’s voice in my head! You are not God!"

«Are you sure?» replied Ian in the Preacher’s head, in a cold icy voice.

"Do not try to trick me, Devil!"

"Tell, me, how does God look like, according to you?"

"He made us to His image!"

Ian took the look of his natural form, a 12-year old Boy.

"It is an illusion! God is old, very old!"

"Like that?" replied Ian, taking the look of a very decrepit mummy, with an evil glare, a white beard, and hair that hanged to the cusp of the arse.

"I tell you this is an illusion! Whatever looks you will take, you will only be an illusion!"

"There, I admit you may be right. After all, the reality you see is but an illusion constructed by your brain so you can survive long enough to reproduce. So, given that, has it ever occurred to you that what you see about yourself may also be an illusion?"

"That is impossible! I am built to fit God’s ideal, Himself!"

"That is interesting, Preacher. If I understand what you are saying, God suffers from a narcissistic personality disorder, so much so He wants to see Himself in everyone of you? The poor guy needs glasses: you sure look ugly as a sin! Anyway, how about I break that illusion you have about yourself and show you how you really look like for different species?"

Not waiting for a reply, Ian showed the Preacher and his followers different views of reality, adding ultraviolet, changing their perspective so they could see microbes crawling on their skin, or their cell structure, and finally finishing as a slime on a metallic surface.

"See? Reality is highly dependant on what you use to acquire the information about it. Let me finish with this very special mirror, the one Narcissus used. It will show you as you really are when all the varnish of civilisation is removed!"

The mirror was visible by all but reflected what they feared the most about themselves. The Pastor saw himself as an ugly hairy Pig with genitals dangling on the ground, and two very hairy testes slopping around, with a long forked tail inserted in his own rectum, the eyes lost in bliss as he tried to get the obscene penis to raise to the occasion to no avail.

"See? You are an animal! That mirror can not lie. You are a perverted animal, one that would stand no chance of survival should you take your true form, if only because you would keep stepping on your own penis as you tried to run from yourself."

Ian kept goading the others as well. The spokesperson saw himself as a leader of great stature spending his days crushing everyone with his bare hands; another was feeling like a microbe running away from some monstrosity. And it continued, revealing each and everyone’s weaknesses, secret dreams, and delusions of grandeur or pettiness.

"So, do you want me to convert you to your true form?" asked Ian with an evil smirk.

"It is not our true form!" exploded the Pastor.

"Maybe, maybe not, but the result would be the same: you would see yourself in that form, feel that form, and, believe it or not, eat what that form eats: garbage!"

"I see myself as a powerful politician!" said one of the numerous sycophants. "They eat great food!"

"A powerful politician has to lick arse a lot to stay in power. But so be it! Here is your first meal!"

"But you do not eat that!" replied the dumfounded individual as he backed away from a pile of smelly turds. The Pastor looked at the man with disgust.

"I do not get elected either! And you will realise quickly that political power is very illusory! Pastor, if I were you, I would abstain from judging that Man. Your diet will not differ by much!"

The one that saw himself as a microbe began to sweat profusely. What did microbes eat? Ian read his mind and answered his unspoken question.

"For your information, microbes eat each other and tiny bits of material they can ingest in themselves. Given how you think, I would start trying to find some hiding place, because you will have a lot of competition for your own carcass!"

By then, the other members of the Horde had made their way to every child and taken them out of the revolutionary enclave through a back door. The Snake and Harp returned to the room where Ian and the two new Mages had been holding the Adults.

"We are done here. What do we do with these Leeches of our food reserve?" asked Harp.

Ian snapped his fingers and a series of transparent cells appeared in the biggest room. Suddenly, the Adults were transported into these cells, separated from each other by totally transparent walls, with not a stitch of cloth on.

"You will take your true form, and live in those forms until we reach Earth. The big advantage of these cells is you can move around and see each other in all your ugliness, but never touch each other in any way. The walls are totally transparent except when you try to hide something, in which case they become perfect mirrors. You will be your true self, incapable of the slightest hypocrisy. Oh yes, the microbe will be visible for all and his internal working will be clearly displayed. What he sees, you will see, what he does, you will see, and know why! Have fun! The cell walls are a foot off your body at all times. You can move around in the room but never leave it. Mister politician, you will see the food the others will get, but you will only have access to what you so desired, and only after you have made your way to it so it enters your cell Beasts, do not forget to feed him! I do not want to find out you are more selfish than I already think you are! I would not put it beyond one of you to hoard it since it may well be the only thing of value left around and in demand!"

The last members of the intervention team left the area, which was reclaimed by Thebes except for the prison room.

"Do you want me to record their interactions, Prince Ian?"

"What interactions? They can not get closer than two feet from each other."

"I can already tell you that this will not stop then from doing things that would be considered indecent. One is already crawling on all fours showing his hairy butt at every Female claiming he has a more beautiful hole than they do! Yes, the door barely closed behind you and he started! The Pastor is playing with himself hard but his hands are too small to wrap around his pole of attraction. I must say you surpassed yourself with that one!"

"I did nothing but remove his hypocrisy so his true nature was revealed. He is who he is. And no, I do not want a recording of their decadence. I shiver at what we will find in the other enclaves."

"You will not need to experience them. The other Hordes cleared them up rather quickly as well. The only cell of discontent is the hunting ground where we collected the biggest bunch of traitors. The Pharaoh has been putting the hunt off every day since we discovered Nestor’s capture. I doubt they will gain much more time, since the Caterpillar is now safely within our grip."

"I wonder how this goes. I have not kept up with Alexander’s intervention."

"It is going well. The 4^th Swarm has begun moving the stasis Pods inside my body. They are relocated in a specialised section of the General Hospital. The General Hospital has begun repairing those that could be, and generating new bodies for those that could only be saved by their genetic map. Your Highnesses, all of you are required to report to the General Hospital so you can incorporate the Marsupial genetic library into your own. The Lord Dragon has already done so as well as all those on the Bridge, so they could eventually communicate properly with the new life form."

"What is their variance?"

"At this moment, it seems to be limited, but it might be due to some form of artificial selection done to man the space-ship. Furthermore, all the Children and Juveniles are related to at least one Adult of the crew. This further limits genetic variance."

"Ok. We will return to the FSS deck to get rid of those suits and report to the Bridge. Thank you for the information."

"You are welcomed."

"Is the Red Alert still in effect?"

"Yes. The Insects are attacking from all sides, but the Lord Dragon seems to ignore them superbly. I have no information as to his goals."

"He must be getting tired. He has been on the Bridge for two weeks!"

"Dragons rarely sleep."

***

Ian and Harp took a well-deserved dive in a cold lake to remove the crud and then made their way to the Bridge accompanied by a sluggish Zen who had caught a fat Rat in the Eden Tessaract. Mark and Ovid were carrying their magical staves proudly, a gift from Harp who had heard from Ian of their performance.

"I heard of your masterful cleanup job!" Harold greeted them.

"Yes. I wonder how the others performed?"

"The results were similar, even if the exact circumstances differed. One group had begun practising genital mutilations on new-borns and learned that it was very badly perceived by our intervention troops. They were put to the scalpel, repeatedly! The Children and Teens were healed and are now having their memory of the practice removed. Did you notice the high number of magical beings amongst the Youths and Children in the enclave you cleared up? I have been hearing numbers that leave me perplexed."

"Yes we did. As soon as we have some free time, I plan to bring to focus a research group on the issue so we can finally ensure all Atlanteans are born equal magically. No more morbid jealousy or feeling of inadequacy," replied Ian. "Harp thinks this is the ultimate expression of the Tessaract Effect."

Ian and Harp watched with fascination a continuous train of stasis Pods make their way to Tessaract 13.

"I thought all the Pods removed from the Caterpillar would end in the General Hospital?" Harp asked.

"Those diverted to Tessaract 13 are cryogenic Pods containing bodies that can not be healed. They are stored there until we can supply new bodies from genetic maps, and transfer brain imprints to the new containers," replied the Runt. "Paschal, Colibri and Enron are hard at work making the proper adjustments to the mapper."

"How long before the last Pod is in Thebes?"

"Alexander’s last report, which came in fifteen minutes before your group walked in, Harp, said it would take another day. It is not the lack of manpower, it is the lack of passage. We dare not use teleportation on them for fear of triggering some reaction in the Caterpillar. It is badly shielded, and Alexander noticed the slightest use of Magic created electrical fluxes the Engineers are hard at work trying to isolate the cause of. It is strange the Caterpillar reacts this way, since it has no apparent magical component."

"Remember inductance in the mithril tables, Typhoon. It may well be such a case. They might have used magical material without realising it, or incorporated it as an alloy without realising what they were doing. We found just that with the Ancients. Remember these aeroplanes that contained a high concentration of mithril, in fact mithril composed 80% to 90% of their skin and they are still powerful centres of Magic! We never did bother draining them."

"I shall immediately inform Alexander of your idea. That would be interesting."

The view outside continued to fascinate Ovid and his friend. Before they had been accepted as Mages, they had never visited the Bridge. Its wide panoramic view of space, with its myriad stars, kept their attention.

"Why is it I have the impression that the stars are moving in an arc?" asked Mark, the most observant of the two.

"Because I ordered so, young Mage," replied a placid Typhoon. "We are headed directly into the mouth of the Tiger, at a relatively sedate pace. As soon as the last stasis Pod is secured tomorrow, we do a hyper-jump. We could simply go to warp 9, and be there shortly, but I want to give the Insects a shock treatment."

"Oh. What kind of shock treatment?"

"If our discussion is correct, they originate from one of the massive cold planets orbiting one of the stars. I will simply pop in the atmosphere and hop from gaseous giant to gaseous giant. I am sure the storm this will generate will wreck havoc in their society and their infrastructure."

Harp and Ian smiled like two lunatics at the deviousness of their friend Typhoon.

"If I get it, you plan to create a typhoon in their environment," noted Ovid, unaware of the name of the current sitting Captain. For him all Dragon Boys looked alike. They were taken by surprise at the sudden explosion of hilarity from the crew and the deepening gold colour of the face presented by Typhoon.

"That is the best laugh I had in a while, Boys!" exclaimed Harold, to the mystified looks of the two young Mages.

"I fail to see what is so funny in what I said," Ovid replied, all serious.

After wiping a few tears with the back of his hand and using a quickly created tissue to clear his nose, Ian explained.

"You see, Ovid, the Captain’s name is Typhoon. This name is that of a Dragon long lost to Mythology whose displacement in the air created terrible storms which carried its name. I see the meteorological studies did not include the origins of the names given to different types of winds. And as a bonus, you managed to make Typhoon blush! I have been trying for years, without success. Now I know how! Thanks!"

"Do not put that ill-acquired knowledge to use, Ian! I have enough knowledge on your own vulnerabilities to make you combust spontaneously!" replied Typhoon, to another bout of laughter from the rest of the crew.

"Are we on the verge of another prank war?" asked Harold. "If so, I will retire to the Eden Tessaract until the air clears!"

"Is it that bad?" asked Mark.

"You have no idea!" answered Diamondcutter shuddering at some of the pranks he had fallen to over the years, especially since his Son Thorsten had joined with the other Protectors and the uncontested leader of trouble-makers, the Heir of Atlantis. He remembered the oh so perfect illusion of a toilet seat that led him to sit in the cold water way too vividly. The Kings and Princes could read Diamondcutter’s mind clearly and laughed evilly at the poor King Father, much to the confusion of Ovid and Mark.

"Open you telepathy to Dwarf frequencies..." suggested Typhoon by whispering into the ears of the two naïve Mages. As soon as they did, they were flooded by tons of dirty tricks which had been imposed on the poor Dwarf, and they could not hold back their guffaws.

"What is so funny, you two?" asked a flustered Dwarf. That immediately triggered another sputtering of laughter from the two Boys.

"Did you really have to crawl out of your bathroom on your belly because of the sudden appearance of major volume of lubricant on the tiles?" asked Ovid.

"And did you really spend a day sporting a toilet bench stuck to your arse by slowly dissolving glue?" added Mark, adding insult to injury. Even Zen was seen twisting on the ground in hysteria at the images that flooded his brain.

"I never thought that Snakes had a sense of humour. That promises!" said Diamondcutter with some acidity.

"Typhoon, do you want to relinquish command or are you still going on strong?" asked Harold, between uncontrollable bouts of laughter.

"I am fine, your Majesty. I will enter transitional Conscience and rest for a few hours shortly, so I can be available should the Insects suddenly change tactics or Alexander need help with something. The crew is in the process of changing from evening to night shift, so everything should be in order."

"Fine. I shall retire to my suite. Mark, Ovid, Zen, come along. You had a long day. Ian? Harp? What are your plans?"

"I plan to go nest tonight. I had a good workout and I feel much better for it," replied Ian.

"I shall do likewise. Anyway, I need to talk to Colibri, Enron and Paschal about an issue, and I better be in the nest to make sure they do not disperse themselves tomorrow."

"OK. Typhoon, Annabelle may pop in on the night shift. She has taking the habit of doing unannounced checks for preparedness."

"I know. She did that around lauds last night. I think she was surprised to see Thebes firing on all guns at a concentration of Hive ships. Rockhook was a the helm and making sure that the blank spot created by the Caterpillar was not being exploited by the Hive ships."

"I see. We need to get that ship inside. I do not like that vulnerability."

"the 4^th Swarm is looking into it. I asked Alexander to think of something. But his group is nearing recall so we may be running short on time to resolve that issue. I am thinking of assigning a combined task force of Engineers from different Swarms to deal with the problem. Alexander’s scathing comment comes to mind concerning that problem."

"What scathing comment?"

"Creative problem solving is not learned in books, no more than creative thinking is learned in Seminars. The Engineers suffer from a lack of both. If it is a new problem not covered by a direct extension of their book worm mentality, their solution is usually inelegant. I gather he has had issues with his team. And there was a furious report from one very insulted Diplomat about Alexander’s aloofness and humiliating treatment of said Diplomat. He wanted to be reassigned. I obliged. Now he is faced with Thorsten. I wish him a lot of fun, especially when Thorsten reads the report filed by Alexander! I dared not put him with my team, lest I roasted him for breakfast. Alexander does not stand incompetence, no more than the rest of our family, my Lord."

"I think combining the Engineers of several Swarms is a good idea. But who would you put in charge? Not an Engineer, I dare hope?"

"A Diplomat, maybe?" said Typhoon, winking.

"We want results, not disasters, Typhoon."

"I know. I have been thinking of Bushtail Fox. He is smart, and seems to have a fine nose for innovative solutions. He also has enough jaws to impose rigourous discipline in a group that think the world rotates around their belly button. I have seen him chew down a group of lazy arses during a brain-storming session to find a solution to a fictional problem. Believe me, even I felt intimidated by his speech."

"Do as you see fit, my friend. I trusted your Dad with my life, and I always extended that trust to you. I know you have our well-being at heart. I shall see you tomorrow after a visit to your Dad. I miss him."

"So do I. I wish I could do like Tarik and communicate with him. I just do not have the patience. It shames me to no end to admit that an Orc has something over me, but this one is so special. I am so glad King Tarik is part of our crew."

"I feel the same way. He is a fine addition to the Imperial Council."

***

The next day was spent finishing the transfer of the last stasis Pods. Alexander returned to Thebes for a report on the situation as the 4^th Swarm reintegrated their quarters. The report was terse and to the point. It could be said in very few words: We need to review the promotion methodology again, because the administration is being burdened by an increasing number of incompetent arse holes. His words describing some individuals made Harold blush furiously, but he could not fault the young Prince, knowing how intimately linked he was with the rest of the family by means of telepathy.

"How many are still in the Caterpillar?" asked Typhoon, still sitting at the Captain’s chair.

"There is the watch, and 4 Legions of Engineers. I ordered the segments of the ship to be separated. Since it was assembled that way anyway, it is proving a lot easier than I thought initially. Thebes, do we have a Tessaract that could hold the ship in storage?"

"Yes. There is ample room where the Boys found Zen. Layer 32 is under void. Its space compression level is at 6, so the Caterpillar would effectively look like the real thing from the observation bays."

"Ok. I will have teams of Mages do the porting. Your comments on the possibility that the space ship might be built in part from magical material was on the dot, Typhoon."

"Thank your brother Harp for that insight, not me! Just so I understand, what did you do?"

"I installed a shorting circuit between Thebes’ Orichalque body and the Caterpillar. The magical arc was impressive, but we have had no problem since. I plan to remove the grounding just before a segment is teleported. Zen, Mark, Ovid?"

"Yes?"

«Yes?» added Zen.

"I think it is time you learn another magical trick, called anchoring. Harp? Would you mind teaching them?"

"I am sorry, I shall have to defer to the Runt. Ian and I have an urgent meeting with Colibri, Enron and Paschal."

"Oh. Ok."

The Runt acknowledged the request and returned to his wolf form.

«Climb aboard the fur bus! Zen, wrap yourself around my neck and do not be afraid, we shall be moving quite fast. Boys, even if you grow scared, please refrain from soiling my fur, I do not want frosted pee flakes when we reach level 32 of the Tessaract. Oh! Before we leave, do these three know how to create an atmospheric bubble or do I need to teach them how?"

"Consider them beginners in the field of Magic even if they are quite powerful. Assume nothing."

"Thanks for the hot potato, Ian."

"My pleasure!"

The Runt took off at a run for his destination, jumping over slow pokes that seemed to pop in his way at every turn. The two Boys, far from being afraid, held tightly to his fur as he negotiated the long run to the Tessaract all the while laughing maniacally and making whooping sounds. "Kids!" thought the Runt, "They may be great Mages, but you can not push the kid out of them!"

«Are they afraid? This is fun!» noted Zen.

«Not you too? Now I understand why the Boys so enjoy your company!»

«I thought the place we were going is where I lived? It did not seem that far the first time.»

«The Princes used the portals the first time. I decided to give you the grand tour, so you have a better idea of the size of this place. I am surprised the Boys have not noticed the change.»

«They are probably enjoying the ride too much and do not want it to end.»

The group finally reached the entrance to the Tessaract and progressed to the layer where the Boys and Zen had been found.

«This smells of home!»

«It is because it was your home for a while, Zen. We are here to train you and the Boys in the creation of atmospheric shields. If you do not mind, we will visit the Erigon IV survivors and see how they are doing. I want to see if they have learned the use of shields as well.»

The visit to the Erigon IV group revealed another change of leadership as another generation had passed already, much to the surprise of the Runt. It also showed that the magical aspect was progressing on schedule, but that they were still far from being able to create fields. A few words of encouragement, introduction of a new species and the Boys occupied most of the time spent in their reserved space.

"Thebes? Why is it they do not live long? Are we doing something wrong?"

"I think it is due to the tessaract sub-segment they are in. Harp wants them to evolve quickly so he sped up time. If you had read the time before entering the sub-segment and the time when you left it, you would have noticed barely a second elapsed on-board time-wise even if you had the impression of spending an hour."

"More like a day. We need to rest before continuing. I never thought time shifts could be so tiring."

"Imagine how the Royals felt when they established first contact!"

After a well-deserved nap, a quick lunch materialised by the care of the Runt, and Zen wondering why the Boys needed to eat so often and so much, the group made its way further in the Tessaract, reaching a gated layer. The layer they were currently in was empty, so the Runt decided to use the place to train the three Mages in shielding and active atmospheric regeneration.

"Why is the next layer gated?"

"Because it has no atmosphere. Going into it unprepared would be deadly. If a non-Magical being tried to enter, he would need to use the air lock, and the outer door would refuse to open until there was an equal pressure on the other side. We shall be using our Magical capabilities to port on the other side and bypass the lock. However, you have quite a few things to learn first!"

"Such as?"

"First, teleportation. You will be practising line of sight teleportation first. Then, you will learn teleportation by anchoring, and next, television, which is the capacity to see beyond what your eyes see so you can teleport into locals you have no direct feedback on. That will constitute this morning’s lessons. This afternoon, it is shielding proper. Positive pressure shielding, which is when there is a greater pressure outside of your bubble than inside; then negative pressure shielding, when there is less."

"Are they not the same thing?" asked Mark.

"No. positive pressure shielding uses the pressure itself to create the shield. The higher the pressure, the more energy you can divert magically to reinforce your wall. In the case of negative pressure shielding, you must actively bound the molecules of gas to create a wall, in effect using Magic as a glue to create surface tension. That takes a lot of work, and you must imperatively learn to use the latent Magic in the environment to sustain a viable wall lest you run your magical core to the ground and the Magic bubble collapses, killing you instantly."

"Oh!" said the Boys, shivering at the thought.

"Is that all?" asked Ovid, dejected and scared.

"No, once that is learned here I shall teach you how to project a field to the other side of that bulwark, so you can build your bubble and fill it with oxygen. Once the bubble is filled to atmospheric pressure, you will port into it for a few seconds just so you have a feel of what will come later."

"That seems to be a lot to learn in a day."

"You boys will learn in a day what is thought in a year at the College for class 8 Mages. That is the cost of being geniuses! Anyway, the last step will be projective telepathy so you can anchor the teleportation of the Caterpillar segments for the team of Mages that will be waiting for your visual anchor."

"Can they not do what we will be doing?"

"What is that, Ovid?"

"That funny type of teleportation, with television, I think you called it?"

"Boys, you are class one Mages. You can count those with that kind of power quite easily, and all, including you, are members of the immediate Imperial family. And yes, Zen, that includes you. It takes class three or higher to be able to do television porting. Even Ferriday, the Dean of the College of Magic, is unable to do it. He has enough trouble doing a visually anchored teleport of himself we never tried to teach him that. Nestor may have the ability, but we never tested him, and I think Harp staunchly refuses to humiliate Nestor further by showing him how powerless he actually is."

"Why is there such a difference?"

"Visually anchored teleportation has one person actively feeding visual information to the person teleporting, like a camera on the surface of Thebes feeds the big monitors. The only limitation of visually anchored teleportation is that the one doing the teleportation must compensate for the height differential between his point of view of what he wants to teleport and the point of view of the one giving the visual feed. That was a major problem during the Earth campaign, before Ian and Harp developed television teleportation after the Folding. Magic skills must be acquired, and to acquire them, you must think about the possibility first."

Ovid seemed pensive as he watched Mark train.

"What is on your mind?" finally asked the Runt.

"You said we were part of the Imperial family. I thought everyone was?"

"Everyone is, but high-level Mages are kept closer, because they will occupy position of command and trust. You saw the Bridge crew? All are level three or above Mages, and all live within the Imperial Suite. Oh, there are lower level Mages in the near family as well, but they will not reach high command stations unless they prove to have a knack for it. For instance, Tom and Jerry. They are magical, but they will never reach level three. Their Magic is growing slowly, but they started too low. They understand they will one day command something like a Legion, or another form of military Unit, probably composed of youngsters of their own species, but they will never sit in the Captain’s chair. And they know why. They strive to overcome their limitations but they do not have the full magical potential. Their Children, on the other hand, will start with a higher magical core than they did and can hope to one day reach the level required to sit in the Captain’s chair."

"Is it always Typhoon that is in that chair?"

"No. It is exceptional one sits so long in the seat of command. Typhoon has been in command since we began the rescue of the Marsupials, which is taking an inordinate time to complete. Once that is finished, he will relinquish command to the next Captain, and probably go spend some time with his family. Usually, the chair rotates every six hours. Being Captain is extremely stressful and tiring. It is our good luck Typhoon was in the chair when this started, for Dragons are known for their exceptional stamina."

"Who will be next?"

"It depends on when this crisis will be over. If I remember the roll call, it can be Ian, Harp, Greywolf, Harold, Timor, or myself. I did not check further, but if things maintain their regular rotations, I would not be Captain for another two weeks after that. Now back to your training, Boys. The more we laze around, the longer poor Typhoon will sit in that uncomfortable chair. He needs the Caterpillar inside Thebes as quickly as possible and you play a vital role in that."

The Boys resumed their intensive training. The Runt quickly corrected some bad habits learned from self-training in Magic.

«Boys, Zen, listen to me. I see you are using your own magical resources to do simple Magic. That will lead to core burnout. You need to do two things: step into your core and then use the latent Magic found in the environment to do your task. Harp said it all: Will and Verb. If you have the Will and the knowledge to express it, Magic will do the rest. Zen, crawl into your core, do not try to eat it up! It is not a Rat on the run! It is a friend, a soul mate. Relax! Then, when you can literally feel the core next to you, slip into it.»

The exercises resumed at a very basic level. Relaxation was something all three had to learn, but after an hour, the three Mages had entered their core and were glowing intensely.

«Before we continue, feel around. You should sense the tissue of Magic as Thebes travels through space and time. You can even tell which way we are heading by feeling the difference in density of the threads. Suck it up and replenish your core. Later, I will show you how to pull Magic into your core like a fishing line onto a spool while we are not moving relative to the Magical background.»

Once the cores had been refilled to saturation, the exercises resumed in earnest and progressed quickly, confirming if needed that the three Mages were indeed class one levels.

After a very hefty lunch, where the Boys devoured what amounted to half their weight in food, and Zen three times his, the training restarted.

"Do not worry, you will not grow fat. In fact, you will consume so much energy in the next six hours we shall have to take an afternoon lunch. Do not be alarmed if you do not dump. Every last bit of energy will be used, and waste is wasted energy."

"Is that why everyone looks like bones covered with skin?"

"Yes, Ovid. A fat person is a rarity in Thebes, if only due to the military regimen, but more so due to the intensive use of Magic by most members of the society. A beer belly is almost always indicative of a non-magical person. They can not help it so we do not hold them rigour of their lack of muscle tone."

The rest of the day was spent learning shields. It may not seem much, but creating atmospheric shields takes mightily fine magical control. As vespers came around, the Boys finally were able to sustain a shield of some consistency.

"Let us eat dinner at the Mess Hall. Tomorrow, you complete the training and we do the ports of the Caterpillar."

"Will Typhoon hold us rigour of the delay?"

"No, He has been monitoring your progress over the day and has seen how hard you worked. You are all very tired. Ah, here is a real chance to practice visually anchored teleportation. Remember what I said about compensating height? It is Spare Ribs that will anchor us. You need to overshoot his height by three feet so you materialise above the floor. Ready?"

The two Boys made their first for real teleportation within Thebes and appeared in the Mess Hall, creating havoc with a big boom.

"Ah, the mistake of every beginner! You Boys forgot to exchange the air for your mass!" exclaimed Harold.

Shortly thereafter, Zen committed the same mistake, and further materialised almost eight feet above ground!

«You poor Zen! You over-compensated. You were on the ground and you added not only the Cat’s height but also the compensation required of the Boys! Are you hurt?»

«Only in my pride.»

«You will have to deal with particularly strange issues, Zen. You are the first Snake we have had to train into Magic. I wonder why the Runt did not tell you of this.»

«He just told me to compensate for height.»

The Runt had now silently materialised behind the three trainees, and was chuckling.

«The best way to learn is by trial and error. You will never forget that lesson, Zen, and it was a lot less dangerous than getting your legs cut off by materialising half in the floor. Eat up and head to bed with the Boys. I heard you like their body warmth. Maybe you could join us in the Nest if you like warmth. Dragon Boys are little ovens.»