Galactica: Book 1 - Via Lactea

 

Fifty years later...

"Are you sure we are finally done with this Galaxy, Ian?"

"Dad, all the Planets inventoried by the Founders and Atlanteans have been visited and their history searched for any salvageable species or ecosystems. We also found close to 1,500,000 additional Planets presenting traces of past intelligent life-forms that had not survived long enough to be inventoried by either Explorers. Of those, we determined that about 0.005% were worth the effort of salvation, the others being self-destructive to the point of being unrecoverable due to selective pressures exerted by their environment. That added an additional 7,500 Planets to our inventory. The entire process slowed us down by five years. However, we recovered a cross-section of the cultural heritage of all intelligent life we decided to leave to their own devise and genetic maps of their ecosystems, in the hope of understanding what brought about the extremes we observed. We even went so far as to leave monitoring devices either in the natural satellites of the Planets or on a nearby lifeless Planet so we could eventually revisit them if the situation changed. Enough is enough. We did what we could, and that is that."

"I admit we did more than what we initially thought. So, what is the situation?"

"The intergalactic relay has been put into orbit around Sagittarius A, deriving its power from the black hole itself. Each sensor in the galactic grid derives its power from the gravitational waves of the primary star of a system and will grow silent as the star blows up."

"What about the Elevation project?"

"That is slightly behind schedule," said Colibri. "The Bees sort of shot down our timetable with over 600 species making their way to the first stage of Elevation in the past 50 years. All Felines made it through, as well as all Equines. Ninety percent of the Ophidians are now integrated, and the rest are on the verge of passing phase nine, and reaching the full Atlantean status. As you know, the last stage is passing through the Trials of the Pyramids and being able to shift shape. As for extraterrestrial life forms, most of the primary rescued species are now part of the Atlantean general population. The only hold-backs are the Erigonians, but this is due to the severe amount of genetic re-engineering Enron and I had to undertake. Taking someone out of its natural environment and making it into a land-hugger is no easy feat. The Dolphins were less complicated to deal with, and quite a few volunteered for genetic re-sequencing."

"What did you do with these telepathic flowers?"

"The Anweietaas? They are part of the Imperial Garden and quite happy to be there. I feel no rush to genetically engineer them to give them mobility. The Lanteen, another intelligent plant form, really enjoys the segment we reserved for their use. The deep blue, almost violet, light contents them. They really find the rest of the ship dark and cold, even if we heat up the workstations for them when they work on the Bridge. I told them they could use the FSS if they felt too uncomfortable but they insist they need to adapt to our environment, not the other way around."

"It has been some time since we had a rebellion, Son. Let us not get complacent and let our guard down."

"I know. The last one, engineered by an Avalonian, cost them dearly."

"Avalonian?"

"Dad, you must be getting old, it is the name the People finally got after much bickering and posturing. Remember I had to put my foot down and force several runoff votes because the groups were too stubborn to unite under a common banner. That was the Day of Blood, if I must remind you."

"Oh yes, I remember now," said Harold, bleaching. "The day you had every Adult Avalonian we had rescued executed. You have ways with words, Son: runoff! Runoff of blood, yes! And what is this about my getting old? It is the joke that is getting old! I may be 80 standard years, but I look no older than my 18^th birthday. Samson was right, I stopped ageing."

"I told you age was irrelevant for us. Have you tried the plasma form yet?"

Harold looked at his Son shamefully.

"No, I am too scared."

"I understand your fears, but remember you can already change into millions of shapes and that all these transitions are expressions of a transitory form for the living plasma we really are. Shape shifting is simply moulding your plasma into a container. That is also the reason we can not age, nor get hurt: a simple transition and we reset, everything back as good as new. Taking the plasma form is simply discarding the illusion of the container."

"You make it so simple. I... I feel secure in a container, like... I feel if I abandon the container, I will spill like water on the floor, and never be able to return to a sentient form again."

"I wonder how you will feel when you try the diffuse gaseous form I regularly transit into to keep an eye on our charges. Omniscience, omnipresence and omnipotence have their costs and advantages. While we are on the review of things, Dad, the Roos are entering Phase 8 of the Elevation ladder. Development of a magical core for them was a bit bit more circumvolved than we originally envisioned. Colibri resorted to a rigourous and unrelenting artificial selection program to get them there. Their genetic material proved to be markedly susceptible to mutagens and we had to strengthen its structure before a stable core could be developed. In the process, we ended up with 12 new species, differing in form, colour, and size."

"Has Grandfather Dragon, Typhoon’s Dad, found a Mage to his liking yet?"

"No. That old geezer is as selective as a virgin for her first fuck!"

"Ian!" Annabelle said, blushing.

"But that is true, Mom! He has literally millions of Mages to pick up from to bond with and none are good enough for him! Every unbounded Mage would give his left ball or ovary to bond with him, but he is ignoring their courtship with an aloft attitude that borders on condescending."

"Has it ever occurred to you he might be seeing them as his Children or worse, his Grandchildren?"

"Mom, we all are. But it is important that he bonds with one or more Mages in order to gain true immortality. Yes, Dragons live long lives, but he is still ageing. With a bond to at least one Mage, preferably of a high power lineage, he stands to gain so much! He will bond, even if I have to kick his butt for this to happen. I shall not put Typhoon through the misery of losing his Dad to the wheels of time for some ill-conceived sense of false morality. I love Typhoon enough to confront his Dad on the issue. Talk to him, Mom, before I take action!"

"All right, Ian. I doubt he will be pleased..."

"Remind him that duty is not always pleasant!"

"How are things progressing with the Insects?" asked Harold, wanting to change the subject.

"The Bees, Wasps and other hive Insects, you mean? That is another problem we are having. Hives have grown in intellectual prowess, but the issue is two-fold. Individual Insects are as dumb as ever, and the transmission of information on long distance has not improved markedly. Diffuse information processing may work for computers, but it is proving a failure for life forms that do not have a container or body, and the hives do not have a body... yet."

"Yet?"

"Paschal is designing some type of portable nest with the help of the Guardian, a sort of nest carrier the Bees could control somehow. The issue is how slow chemical signals travel along the line of communication from say, a limb to the core of the hive and back. If you want to know, I think this is a lost cause, but Paschal is not going to give up any time soon. He can be one stubborn prick."

"How is the hunt for a replacement for Sekhmet going?"

"Nowhere. Francesca did not do us a service by going nuts on things she could not control."

"I wonder how they take it?"

"The Bees? They take it quite well actually. They are used to patience. Once we managed to explain what we saw of their functioning, they realised there were huge obstacles to their request to be incorporated into standard Atlantean society. So they are content in letting us do our best."

"That is good. I do not think we could survive a revolt of the Bees."

"Probably not."

"I heard there are now simulator Bridges?" asked Bjorn.

"Yes. We also have simulators for the FSS, and Scout ships. Paschal and I agreed it was a necessity given the number of crews we need to train and integrate. By the way, the Librarian declined a body transfer and died yesterday. The grumpy old Elf told me flat out he had seen my face long enough for multiple lifetimes. We have enough good replacements he will not be missed."

"Did you help him along the way?"

"No, he was under the care of a very competent Fairy, and she did her best to alleviate any discomfort in his last days. That guy had one ugly face matching his equally ugly character. I talked to the Fairy after he had passed and she was relieved. He was one to redefine the meaning of Bitch she said, which does tell you how he was. He was incinerated an hour later in tessaract 18, segment 12, sub-segment 13, an extension for the Dragons. He was dumped in the Kiloa volcano. No commemorative ceremony was held as per his explicit request. The funny thing is, the volcano had a hiccough when we dumped the body in the caldera, as if the mountain found the bastard too tough to digest."

"You are bad, Son."

"Like Father, like Son. I am sure a certain Franz still feels the beating you gave him from the other side of the Veil."

"So, how is the role of Dominus Spiritus Sanctus sitting with you, Ian?" asked a grinning Bjorn.

"Do you want it?"

"Oh no!"

"Then do not ask stupid questions! It took me so much time to break the Founders out of their ‘divine’ mental set it was no longer funny! It is almost over."

"What is?"

"The last batch still in stasis pods was released a month ago after a complete refit, at about the same time we released the last Colonists and a few stragglers in the Orc and Goblin groups. The Orcs were the most in need of re-sequencing, being at the poor end of their very unequal society. They had suffered extensive mutations due to their exposure to radiation. In fact, Colibri told me he lost a dozen that were too far gone to be repaired."

"Do we have Female Goblins finally?"

"No. They held a referendum and it voted against re-introducing the Females. They had a reputation about their character... to put it mildly, according to Rockhook, they would have run circles around the Librarian and given him lessons in the art of being obnoxious. Enron offered to mellow their character, but the Goblins declined the offer. They seem to like the new machines Paschal designed, where they can select physical characteristics from menus. Funny world."

"We had Mother fuckers, now we have machine fuckers." Harold snickered. "Why do you say it is a funny world?"

"Macho fuckers is closer to reality since they use the machines only when they want a Baby. The rest of the time, it is each other they play with! The original Goblins are as bald as billiard balls. They all selected to have body hair from top to bottom. They call it the Troll look. Paschal certainly did not expect to see Goblins looking like walking fires, or others that have the spots of Felines, or the stripes of the Zebras, or even flower patterns in their fur! I met one with pink roses set on a green fur background yesterday. All tastes are in nature, it seems. At first, the colour pattern was set, but someone suggested it would be nice to be able to change the pattern at will. Now we have Goblins that can mimic the Chameleon and do a better job at hiding in plain sight than they ever could. The re-sequencing for this last fad being rather quick, the Goblins have all been through a stasis pod for the treatment. And I am not telling you about what those who have acquired shape-shifting do. Think outrageous and you will still be below reality. You know, Dad. I think the Goblins illustrate in many ways that if you deprive someone of something, it becomes the centre of his thinking."

"Would you mind clarifying that thought?"

"Not at all. The Goblins were deprived of hair for so long that once they found out they could get it back, creativity exploded. Another example, again involving the Goblins is their sexual behaviour: they are fucking machines."

"Given how they have to to reproduce..."

"No, you misunderstand me. They are at it every minute they can find a break in their duty, and not always with the reproduction machines, by far. Orgies are the rule, and believe me, they even put me to shame!"

***

"So, Colibri, you are now sure the Dolphins we have are ready for Elevation?" asked Typhoon.

"Yes. They have finally acquired enough Magic to bind with a Dragon and become shape-shifters. The only issue I have is the requirement for the Dolphin to train his Dragonling, and I have yet to find a solution to that problem."

"Maybe it is time to test those selected on Magic. There are many ways to travel through space if you have Magic at your disposal. They only need to neutralise gravity around their body and use their flippers to do it. Once it is done, they can begin training their future bonded," said Harp.

"Maybe a demonstration is in order," suggested Enron.

"Yes. Let us dive and invite those we think are ready for a little lesson in flying. Typhoon, would you care joining us?"

"Sure. Let me dive from a mile high, so they get the message the party is over."

The four young Atlanteans shifted to Dragon form after flying up as Falcons. They then selected an area where no Dolphins were swimming and made a superb dive, reaching nearly the speed of sound before entering water. The result was two-fold: a beautiful splash that cascaded down on the sea behind them, and a bang that alerted the Dolphins to converge on their location to check on the cause of the disturbance. Before the Dolphins reached them, the Atlanteans took the Dolphin shape and waited on the invited guests.

The first Dolphins to show up were a bit anxious and surprised to find a pod in the middle of nowhere. The Atlanteans invited them to frolic in the water while they waited for more of their kin to show up. Some flips, water-walking and diving followed for 20 minutes. Finally, Harp called a break to the fun, having recognised the voice of those they had previously trained in Magic amongst those present. Diving underwater so his ultra-sound voice carried more clearly, Harp began his explanations.

"We have trained you in Magic, told you how to use your mind to visualise what you needed and how to mould Magic to that image to get what you desired. We are taking you one step further to the ultimate goal today. You will learn how to fly. Focus on the pressure you feel as we are below the water and use Magic to push it under you so it pushes upward."

The Dolphins gradually rose to the surface, broke through, and lifted up in the air to about 10 feet. Since sound was no longer as effective, Harp continued telling them what to do telepathically.

«Now swim in the air like you were swimming in water.»

The progress frustrated the Dolphins, used to the fluid resistance of water.

«The next step requires you to extend your body image as you are flipping around. Attach particular importance to the flippers. Feel the Magic held tightly against your body. Keep most of it close but add to the magical image so flippers grow much bigger. Notice as you add length and depth, you are gaining speed because Magic is exerting pressure against the surrounding air. This is one method of travelling out of the water. The other method is to use Magic to manipulate gravity so it pushes on you. This is what is keeping you over the water for now. Let us practice the virtual flippers exercise for today. If all goes well, in a week, we begin displacement by moulding gravity.»

The Dolphins began the exercise, with some spectacular flops as one after the other, they lost their concentration and gravity suddenly recalled its existence to their overtaxed brains. After an hour and quite bruised, the Dolphins were left to rest.

«Take an hour of rest then repeat the exercises I taught you,» said Harp. «Do not tire yourself too much. Drowning does not produce the desired effect. We shall meet tomorrow at dawn for more training exercises.»

The Atlanteans flew off, still in their Dolphin shape, to finally port into the Nesting room after taking their bipedal form.

"Are you sure they are ready?" asked Typhoon. "That looked more like a mitigated disaster to me than readiness. Even Tarik had more concentration than these Dolphins when I met him to get him his first bonded."

"Now, that was a disaster..." quipped Harp.

"Yes, Harp. Do not turn the blade in the wound. But since then, Tarik has gained immense stature in the Dragon world. He is seeked for flight training by all couples wanting their brood to be the best for our Mages."

Colibri shrugged. "They were anxious for some reason. Harp, Enron? Is there a new predator in the sea?"

"Not that I know of. That tessaract is specifically for the Dolphins, and they should be the top of the food chain."

"I am not aware of anything either," added Enron. "We should scan the range to see if something is up."

It took 15 minutes for the four Atlanteans to discover the issue: a pod of Dolphins had gone rogue and was harassing those that were Atlantean-friendly. Enron borrowed Samson’s Trident and confronted the rogue Dolphins. The result was, to say the least, bloody. Once the threat had been removed, the other Dolphins resumed their training with much more energy.

***

"Hey Zen, how was the day at the College of Magic?"

"Some of us really need to crawl out of their skin. I had to shock a couple out of their lethargy."

"That is the issue with some cold-blooded individuals. Some seem to live for the next hot bedrock."

"I know, Ian. I am glad the day is over. I would probably bite a couple to death if I taught every day."

"You should rest. We are leaving the Galaxy tomorrow, and you are on secondary Helm. Alexander is on primary. Let me see, the scroll call is for Enron to Captain the secondary Bridge, and Jerry is Captain for the primary Bridge with Tom at Navigation, Timor at Weapons, and Ut at Science. I shall be in the Admiral’s seat. Dad is taking the Imperial Seat. That is a first both seats will be occupied at the same time."

"What are the plans?"

"Oh, simple. We engage the Jump Drives a day after leaving the Galaxy. The jump itself takes us to Andromeda in the blink of an eye and we slow down to slipstream before entering the edge of the Galaxy. Once we are at the edge, that is, when we cross path with the first star, we drop to warp drive and send out Scouts to locate life-sustaining Planets and try to find archeological signs of Planets that used to sustain life."

"Do you expect to find many?"

"Andromeda is slightly bigger than the Milky Way. Hopefully there is an interstellar civilisation, not the hodgepodge of separate and warring empires. I say hopefully, but I do not hold my hopes too high."

***

Paschal and Thorsten finished their last system check before heading to dinner. They had been at it for days, moving the last Founder ships into berths and consolidating their power links to Thebes. Already, the Caterpillar ship of the Roos had been moved into its berth some months ago, as well as Destiny, the Atlantean Colony ship. All Spiders were now locked into place as well.

"I wonder why you decided to keep these ships?" asked Thorsten as the docking crew verified the last alignment before latching it into place.

"They are good ships. Why throw away good stuff? Yes, it required a lot of retrofitting, mostly in drives and weapons, but at least, we have a fleet to use that is not exceedingly dependent on Magic. Yes, the number of non-magical individuals is dwindling like water on a hot stone, but there are still quite a few species that need to reach functional levels, especially the rescued species that are in the low-end of the process of Elevation. I want them to have something to contribute to the society. Anyway, the ships now are much more resistant to attack since you developed that new material that covers the hulls. The poly-Carbonate is totally immune to electromagnetic fields, thus blocking photon torpedoes. That was a genial idea, Thorsten, and we need not sacrifice our ultimate defence, Orichalque, for it."

"The multi-phasic force field shield you put in place is no minor feat either. The rail gun and anti-proton guns are also not to be neglected."

A sound signal and a board of green lights told the two Atlanteans that the last ship had been tied successfully and the power core connected to Thebes without a hitch.

"Let us go eat. It is near Vespers," said Paschal, as he switched everything off quickly.

***

"So, Husband, how does it feel to leave our own turf to set out in the Universe?"

"Probably much like you, Annabelle. I feel sad, overwhelmed, worried. Especially now that we have more Children to care for than there are sand grains on a beach."

"Hey there, my friend!" exclaimed Samson as he heard the gloomy comment from Harold, "We may have hundreds of billions under our care, they still only represent a drop in the Ocean of life."

"If you are trying to make me feel better, you are failing miserably!"

"Abdicate in favour of Ian then," said Diamondcutter, from a love seat, holding in his arm another of his Dwarf Children, of which he had so many they had managed to organise them into whole sports leagues.

"And end up dead? I dare say I still love life enough to never do that to Ian... at least for another few million years!"

Amethyst snickered as one of Harold’s little Devils did some riding on one of the Wolves that kept them company, laughing hysterically at the tickling fur between his nude butt. "The great Emperor of Atlantis scared of Ian? Where has the world gone to?" she asked.

"From the size of an organised rolling forge to the size of a mad Galaxy, that is where!"

"And we yet have no idea of what lies ahead, except we follow a thread of events selected by Ian in the infinite number of threads that compose the future. I see my Son, Typhoon, and his interaction with Ian and I can not help but be impressed at how close these two have become."

"I am as shocked as you are, my friend," as he looked at Typhoon’s Father, whom had finally found the courage to bond with a Mage, one of the now too numerous to count Sons of Zen. It had felt so right when he had met the gold, red, and greenish looking Snake. The youngster was not of Imperial class concerning Magic, being at M-1, but they had clicked, and things had developed from there.

A Pterodactyl flew into the room and landed on one of the steel perches that now dotted many rooms in the Imperial city.

"Hey there, ⁶⁶ ("Aztec, meaning Smoking Shield."), what brings you here?"

"The Nest Mother wants to inform you that the last hatchlings have come through and that they are now safely ready for the transfer."

"I am sure my friend Dunbar will love the news. Have a Fish!" replied Harold, as he materialised a big Captain Fish for the still huge Pterodactyl.

"Thank you. I left this sunrise to find you. Can I spend the darkness within this nest?"

"Certainly. We have roosts for all of our flying friends. Follow the scent. If you need more food, ask, there is a wide variety of Fish available for your pick."

"I shall ask then," said the Pterodactyl, after swallowing the 150-pounds Fish head-first and whole. It took off after a last look at the strange form of Harold, not yet fully understanding the role that this one played in their very matriarchal society.

"I wonder why it took him until Vespers to reach us?" asked Diamondcutter.

"I heard they freak out during the translocation with local ports. Paschal, Harp and Dunbar are looking at the issue."

"I wonder if they will freak during the jump?"

"I have no idea, Samson. I think this may be the reason why the jump will occur before sunrise."

"We may always ask. Vespers is upon us, and I know the Boys all want to have a family supper tonight, along with all the ceremonial. I think they are as sad as we are of leaving our home Galaxy," Amethyst said.

"We might as well get moving then. Do you want me to get the Pterodactyl?"

"No Annabelle. He has flown for the whole day and is entitled to his rest."

"I can not even imagine how you think this is a Male. I never did manage to tell the difference," commented Felicia as she picked up her own Son.

"The colours are much brighter on the Males than on the Females. They literally glow, even during normal season. The Females, albeit colourful, are much drabber. It is only when we have Juveniles that we have issues differentiating sex. Their camouflage pattern is almost impossible to see on the nesting grounds, especially in black and white vision."

"Talking about colour vision, Harold, what has Colibri decided on giving the Felines this modification in their natural form?"

"He has declined, Bjorn. His reasoning is sound: if Felines had colour vision and their prey did not, the Felines would have an unmitigated advantage. The fact that they have to gain Magic and be able to change shape before accessing colour vision also adds a level of protection for these preys: the Felines that have gained colour vision took the oath of protection for all and would die if they began hunting indiscriminately for their pleasure."

***

The Royals made their way to the Royal Mess Hall. It was as if everyone had been given the word: The arrival of the Emperor brought silence in the vastly increased Hall, that now managed to host thousands of species in different stages of Elevation, all organised around the standard Centurie of the Imperial Army. Not a single species above Level One and able to move on the ground or in the air was missing. The Royal table itself had grown in length and covered the entire front end wall of the gigantic room, elevated by about 12 feet so every person present could see them.

The room itself now extended more than a mile on each side, with absolutely no column to support the vast dome that rose above to a height that gave vertigo to those who looked up too long. Elaborate paintings on the ceiling depicted the numerous species of the Empire in caissons that gave a setting of their natural habitat in true, vibrant colour. If a person waited a few seconds while watching a specific caisson, it zoomed for his eyes only, allowing for careful analysis of the animated painting. That had been the latest feat of Magic done by Harp on that amphitheatre of food. There were many more mundane things, such as table setting that adapted to all species, food and drink that appeared to fill in the wish of the person that was sitting, perching or laying down; the capacity to talk to the neighbours without being drowned in the background noise, means to talk to someone right across the room without even raising the voice. That allowed the Shift Commanders to report to their respective leadership without the need to leave their place, bustle around the Imperial table like Fleas on a carcass, and otherwise become nuisances. Yet, the Imperial Family could barge in on any conversation either individually or through a general communication system that gave each individual the impression he or she was being talked to personally by the member at the Imperial Table addressing the assembly.

As soon as Harold sat on his seat, the food appeared for everyone. Harp had decided it was becoming too cumbersome to create food himself, and he did not see any advantage at an unending train of individuals either delivering food to those sitting or worse, all those present waiting in line for a service that might take more time than there were minutes in a day.

The supper went as usual, finishing with the change of the Guard. The ritual had remained essentially unchanged since its inception, but the Centuries now arrived and left by Army Group rather than one after the other.

***

As the Boys met in the Nest, ready for the night, Lord Agramon Silver Moon looked at Ian questioningly.

"Yes, we shall do another attempt at farseeing tonight, when all of the M-0 Mages, including Dad, are available for synchronised search. I do not like how foggy things look, no more than you do. Harp, have you given thought to the issue of the fog that envelops the next Time Nexus?"

"Yes, it has been on my mind. Alexander, did you do the red-shift measurements on Andromeda?"

"Yes, and by however means I measured it, it is a blue shift, indicating the Galaxy is moving toward us at 500,000 km/h, so it has moved closer by 9.6624 x 10¹⁵ kilometres since the light we see left it. We must shorten our jump by that amount. As you already know, we are looking back in time and what we see of the Andromeda Galaxy is not what is today. That might explain the haze we have around the Nexus."

"Explain, little Brother. You might be on to something here."

"When you try to see the future of Andromeda, you think you are looking at the future just after the jump so we do not crash unexpectedly in the middle of a Sun, triggering its premature conversion to supernova, right?"

"Yes, continue..."

"Has it ever occurred to you that when you try to see Andromeda derived from what we see now, you are looking in its past, and that trying to plan your jump from visual information, or Mage Sight, that is outdated by 2,200,000 years, might lead to the haze? I doubt Mage Sight travels much faster than light. What Mage sight is telling us dates, and probably by a lot. Even if you tried to see closer, to its real position at this instant, you would probably hit a blank, because Mage sight would not have reached you yet."

"You know, Harp, what Al says makes sense!"

"Call me Al again, Colibri, and I shall show you what a pissed off computer whizz can do... about your molecular transport. I wonder how you would like to find yourself nude and potted?"

"Pervert!"

"Yes, that is me. Stop being envious!"

"So, in effect, we can never really see clearly in the Nexus because of time constraints. Does anyone have a suggestion?"

After some minutes of silence, Harold-Ian looked down at his big Brothers.

"Why not do an incremental hop? After all, we can see some distance in the future with clarity, let us do what we do when we port: visual translocation."

"You have a good idea, but are you aware that we still are limited in range to about 1,000 light-years if we want to be secure? That means we would need to do somewhere around 2,200 jumps," Enron said.

"That is not an issue, is it?"

"It is not the number of jumps that bothers me, it is the navigational issues. Each time we emerge, it takes 30 seconds to establish a new fix and prepare for the next jump. Do the maths: it means the trip will take 18.33 hours to get to Andromeda."

"So? We have been travelling 50 years and more just to get across a single Galaxy. I doubt anyone would hold you to the grill for a measly 18 hours and 20 minutes!"

"He has a point. AI-6? Establish way-points to Andromeda, interval 1,000 light-years."

"Calculating, established, stored. The last jump will bring us to within 721 light-years of the Galaxy, Ian. Is this acceptable?"

"Yes, quite so. Okay everyone, bedtime. No hanky-panky tonight, I want everyone at optimum for the early wake-up call. We hit the Bridge one hour before prime."

"Just one question, Ian?"

"Yes, Paschal?"

"What happens to those of us departed beyond the Veil that are scheduled to come back in the upcoming life cycle?"

Everyone looked at Ian with worried eyes.

"Let me think this out loud. We all know the Soul becomes part of the Collective Conscience when we die, and comes back in a physical form or other at some point. For those that did not develop a Collective Conscience, like the Humans or the Elves, the issue is more complicated. We have seen that Atlanteans of old developed such a bond, but were few, if only because there are few reborn Atlanteans amongst us. On the other hand, Canines and Equines have developed a tight Collective Conscience. Furthermore, Dad’s recall of the Ghosts of Atlantis past during the ultimate battle with the Soul-Eaters revealed that there were much more than Atlanteans affected by these Soul-suckers, since we were assisted by Tyrannosaurs, which, quite frankly, surprised us. It also revealed that the Humans, much like us, did keep a cohesive Soul after death, along with quite a huge repertoire of species. I have a feeling they have stayed with us, travelled with us, and are waiting patiently in the shadows for a chance at rebirth. It is now only a question of time before they find a body that resonates with them."

"I am not sure I want to meet the body that resonates with a T-Rex!" said Colibri, shivering.

"Hey, you forgot we did meet the Gorms and took them in. They look like a six-foot tall T-Rex when Adult, and are carnivorous, but they do care for their young, much like those of the Earth. Their Planet was seeded by the Founders from samples taken during the late Jurassic stock on the Earth, and left to succeed or fail on their own, according to their archives. They, contrary to many seedlings, flourished. I would not be surprised to see them produce the proper resonance for the T-Rex Souls."

"So, you are actually telling us that individual Souls have been embarked as well as the Collective and that we have no reason to worry about leaving behind our Ancestors?"

"Yes, Colibri."

"I just hope Albert the Snake is reborn as a bonzai. That is all he deserves," said Harp.

"You are vindictive, big Brother."

"Yes. I killed him way too quickly. I want to own that bonzai!" replied Harp, eyes glowing red with suppressed fury.

"I am all with Harp on this. Grandfather deserved to end up that way too," said Colibri as he remembered the horrible Sorcerer.

"We should create a bonzai garden, we have enough dark Souls to fill it up, notwithstanding those taken by the Soul-Eaters, the Spawns, and other malevolent entities that have crossed our path," Enron suggested, producing a wave of nods.

"Okay. We shall do that after we are done with the jumps," decided Ian.

***

"I was expecting a merge last night, Ian? Was the jump delayed?"

"No, Dad. Alexander came up with a valid explanation for the issue. Merging would not have clarified the details and reduced the risk substantially. I figured this was one circumstance that reveals the true limits of Magic. Yes, we can see in the far future, up to the end of this universe, but that does not require a perfectly clear image of the situation, contrary to a quantum jump. So we will do micro-jumps for safety’s sake."

"What will happen when we jump universes then?"

"Blind faith, Dad. We shall have no choice by then."

"We need to revisit the question later."

"I agree. Timor, what is the last report from our sensors near the fissure between us and the anti-matter universe?"

"The life-form we contacted has begun work on their own task force to rescue as much as they can of their own. They are about 40 years behind us, but that is not much considering they did not even know of the issue until we exchanged data with them. The fissure is closing slowly. They acknowledge once we jump Galaxy, they will be on their own, but they seem to be confident yet cautious. When the tear seals, the cross-universe transmission will require a considerable amount of energy from both parties and they know that, unless there is a dire emergency, we do not plan on reopening the passage, not that it would be of much use until we find a way to travel in an antimatter universe."

"What about our repeaters?"

"They are disseminated along the path leading to the edge of the Galaxy, and I plan on the micro-jumps to drop some of them along the way so the power of the one on the edge of the Milky Way does not attract undue attention. AI-1 calculated a hyper-space signal will take less than a day to reach us from this Galaxy while we are in Andromeda. After that is another matter."

"To each day its problems, Son."

After taking a huge breakfast, the Atlanteans moved to the Primary and Secondary Bridge to take their station. Everything was checked one last time as the countdown began.

"Go on Red alert!" ordered Ian, 30 minutes before the event. Thorsten, as siting Captain, nodded his approval. Klaxons rang across the star-sized ship and life forms of all shapes and sizes made their way to their respective shelters. Bulwarks closed, and patrols made sure everyone was where they should be before returning to their own jump shelters and reporting the all clear.

"Power on the shields!" commanded Ian, as the ship’s external appearance began to shimmer with restrained power. The shields activated flawlessly.

"Shields at 100%" reported Timor.

"Activate Weapons!"

"Weapons coming on-line. All are standby and loaded!" Sitar reported. "Target search in progress. None found!"

"Power up Jump Drives!"

"Jump Drives are powering up. Full power in two minutes," Paschal told the Bridge crew.

"Navigation?"

"The data stream is served to Helm! First target jump point in waiting," replied Samson.

"Helm has accepted the stream," replied Enron. "Auto-pilot activated and accepting data."

"Ten seconds to jump," reported Thebes.

"Alea jacta es!" said Ian as the ship blinked out of existence to emerge 1,000 light-years away.

The cold feeling that enveloped the crew took them by surprise, but before anyone could react, Thebes transferred the adjusted navigational data to the auto-pilot and the second jump occurred.

"This.. Is... Going... To... Be... A... Miserable... Eighteen... Hours... And... Twenty... Minutes!" exclaimed Ian as his brain kept flicking on and off at each jump.

"It... Never... Did... That... Before!" worried Sitar.

"We... Never... Did... Long... Jumps... Before... Either!" replied Harp.

"Break...At...30...Jumps!" ordered Ian.

Two jumps later, the vessel stayed in real space rather than initiate another jump.

"Thebes, location?"

"We are where we planned to be: 30,000 light-years away from the Milky Way."

"Does anyone have an idea of the cause of this cold feeling?" asked Colibri, as he rubbed his arms.

"I think the quantum jump must stop all quantum transition movements for it to work. We are therefore experiencing the absolute zero of the jump but for only a brief nano-second. It still manages to record as a feeling of cold," replied Paschal.

"Is there anything we can do to reduce this?"

"No. I think the best solution remains to do 30 jumps, rest, do 30 more... And it is useless rubbing ourselves raw or jumping in lava. The feeling of cold will come back as soon as we do a jump."

"I am not willing to go through this for 18 hours!" declared Ian. "Thebes, determine the next 30 jumps at 30,000 light-years interval!"

"Extracting from the primary stream, creating secondary stream, data available to Helm!"

"What will that accomplish?" asked Harold, still shivering.

"We did 30,000 light-years in 15 minutes; now we will do 900,000 light-years in the same time. It will get us almost 41% of the way to Andromeda in the next quarter of an hour. Is everyone ready?"

After a nod from all the crew, Ian braced himself and ordered the secondary sequence to be initiated. Clattering teeth could be heard on the Bridge as the sequence unfolded. Finally the 30 jumps came to a conclusion and the ship stopped jumping.

"Thebes, how many jumps do we need to reach Andromeda with the new sequence?"

"Forty-two long jumps, adding 1,260,000 light-years to our travels. Since we have already covered 930,000 light-years with this last sequence, we would be 10,000 light-years away from our objective. I suggest we do the last one in two 5,000 light-years jump, bringing us to our target."

"The suggestion is accepted, Thebes. We take a half-hour break, guys! We are further along the way than originally anticipated with the first stream, so it might be a good idea to rest our frayed nerves," said Ian. "Harp, can you produce coffee for all of us? It may be illusory, but it is the illusory comfort I am looking for."

"Sure."

"Felicia, inform the crew of the rest period and the need to restore themselves. Also explain what we discovered. Keep it simple."

"Okay, Ian."

Shortly, the voice of Felicia could be heard across the ship, as she quietly explained the situation and the reasons behind it to those in their shelter. She also told them to get something hot to comfort themselves and that the sequence would be repeated in half an hour before another five minute break and the last, much shorter sequence would be triggered.

***

The next sequence of jumps engaged and proceeded without any comments, apart from clattering teeth.

"Only 12 more long jumps to do, thank the divinities!" said Harold.

"Why, thank you Dad! I always knew you were a hidden masochist!" replied Ian, trying to smile between clatters of his teeth.

"You little prick better find a hiding place when this is over, or I shall show you who is the hidden masochist!"

"Here, take that coffee. We are due for the next series of jumps in 13 minutes," said Harp, spilling half the cup from his shaky hands.

"Thanks!" replied Harold, as he gripped the cup with both hands, trying to warm them up.

"Should I program the last two jumps in the next sequence?" asked asked Enron as he too took a cup of coffee.

"Sure," decided Ian. "After all, nothing bad has happened so far."

Harold strangled himself with a mouthful of coffee, looking at his Son wide-eyed.

"You expected something to go wrong?"

"No. Space is vast, and it would take some bad luck for us to be in the same place as anything else during a materialisation."

"You never heard of the expression do not call the Wolf if you do not want to hear it, Son?"

"Dad, I did not know you were superstitious!"

"More than you can think. After all, we live in a Magical world, and that does lead to some strange happenings."

"Get ready for the next fourteen jumps. We are one minute to initiation," said Thebes.

The sequence began and progressed smoothly until the 13th jump. There, a terrible flash of light almost blinded everyone as the ship came to a sudden halt.

"Thebes? What happened?" asked an alarmed Paschal.

"Analysing data... The result are consistent with us materialising in the core of a deep red dwarf star with a crust 16,233 miles thick. Our materialisation converted the entire star into energy before expelling it at Warp nine in all directions. Some spots of colder dust reveals this star had a cortege of Planets numbering in the high twenties. Everything got blown away."

"Damage report!" Paschal called out. "Harp? Damper fields? Timor, Shields? Sitar? Weapons?"

"Damper fields peaked at 1,500% of nominal, but held."

"Shields peaked at 2,000% of nominal and held by the skin of our arse."

"Weapons are functional, no damage."

"Hull integrity is sustained. Thirteen wounded due to being untied, Sick bay is responding," Felicia responded. "We should be able to move shortly, says the Healer. That is what happens when you run while blinded: a dozen broken noses, and a broken wrist."

"And engines are all green as well. We were lucky this time," added Paschal, looking at Ian crossly. "Navigation, Helm?"

"We are 5,000 light-years away from Andromeda," reported Samson, shakily.

"And Helm is responding," added Enron.

"Engage slipstream, no more jumps until we figure out what happened," said Harold, looking at Ian as crossly as Paschal. "Estimate the ETA at 10% of maximum slipstream power, Thebes."

"We are still 5,000 light-years away, so it would take 47.82 days approximately."

"How come you do not deluge Dad with meaningless decimals, Thebes?"

"Because he ignores the tease while you rise at the bait every time!"

"Enron, engage at established slipstream. The others, in the Captain’s Ready Room. We need some answers as to why this happened," said Harold, pointing imperiously at the side-door.

Once everyone was seated around the table, Harold looked at Ian.

"Well?" he asked, coldly.

"Well what?" replied Ian, not intimidated by Harold one bit.

"What happened?"

"Thebes was clear enough, I think: we materialised in a very dark star. It blew up."

"But why did we materialise in a star?"

"Dad, we must see the future, however we were moving, err, jumping around and landed in the mud-hole because we were blinded by the huge distance, the very small size, and the infinitely small probability of the event occurring. What we do when we look at the time threads is look at the probability of events. When I look at tomorrow, it is easy, because the probability of say event X is clearly visible as a ripple: small ripple equals low probability, big ripple equals high probability, but not certainty! We can always collide with a giant piece of rock unexpectedly, but we try to keep these futures at a low probability level. When we jumped, we were in fact jumping in a mirror lake without apparent ripples, because all options are open. This is quantum drive for you. We were flying blind. We can see the end of the Universe because that ripple is so big it is hard to miss. So was the Nexus that led to us collecting on the Earth. But the other Nexuses are much less visible, the web of probability much more tenuous. When the Helm flies this ship, it is not looking at space but at probability fields and choosing the most secure path. The Quantum Drives ruptures this continuity because we can not see with much precision small events like a collision, or, for that matter, coming back into space in the heart of a dying Sun."

"So, again, why is it safe to travel at slipstream speeds?"

"Because the Helm can change path should a probability of collision pass a certain threshold. We have no issue seeing 1,000 light-years ahead of us, which gives the Helm ample time to adjust if we fly at 10% of slipstream. The faster we fly, the shorter the response time we have, and the more dangerous the situation becomes. At 10%, we have 9.4 days to decide what to do if a probability wave comes along indicating a risk of collision. At 20%, it drops to somewhere around eight days, and at 50%, it is down to slightly less then 3.6 days. It is not a linear function as you can see. At 100%, the interval is so short it is nearly as bad as quantum jumps. And since we would have to slip in the inter-space, the probability of collisions and mishaps might even be more than blind jumps. After all slipstream carries its name: we are travelling between layers of space, slipping through it. That is like travelling between blankets, and the deformation of space produced by matter affects us, albeit at a different level than Warp or transwarp do."

"Get me an aspirin. Paschal, your explanations are way over my head, way, way over my head!"

"You asked for it, Dad. Anyway, back to why this happened: it was so low a probability from where we did the last jump it did not even register, much less get attention in the planning for a path adjustment."

"I get it. So, what can we do to prevent this from occurring again?"

"Jump as far as possible in the first jump, and then do 1,000 light-years jumps to enter a crowded space, and keep to slipstream for the final approach to a Galaxy. Finally, keep to transwarp in interstellar space, warp in crowded interstellar space, ion drive in star systems, and impulse in close proximity to a star’s Planets and Asteroid belts."

"Why this structure, Paschal?"

"The probability of collision rises as we get near a Galaxy. We can prevent a lot of grief if we take this approach, but, as I said, we can not guarantee other collisions, even if we use far-sight. Hey, the Ancients never used far-sight and managed to have collisions all the time during their travels, and they even called them something like accidents. There was very little accidental in these collisions, but there was a high volume of recklessness and downright negligence."

"Have we had any loss of life?"

"No. Even the Ghosts made it through. I heard there were condensates, but that was to be expected."

"Condensates? Explain, Harp."

"Remember what I told you about why we got so cold? I had thought it was a simple case of absolute zero, which is when the kinetic moment of an atom is zero. But I got many reports of Ghosts not only becoming visible, but solid. That means the movement of their energy particles, which are closer to photons, or gluons, came to an almost standstill as well. It must have been quite unnerving for them. I can just imagine the situation where the kinetic energy of the gluons that keep the atom nuclei tied together dropped to this state. Talk about cold! Since gluons travel at πC to 3π/2C, the quantum jump can not deprive them completely of momentum. That does have some importance: it maintains our atomic cohesion, and also allows the Ghosts to stay whole, if in a rather frigid state, for the brief instant it takes to make a jump."

"You know, I thought Paschal’s explanations were nuts, but yours wins the Gold medal, Harp. Who would have thought you would have studied the nature of Ghosts?"

"And why not? We need to understand the nature of the Soul if we are to manage the fusion required by the inter-universe jump at the end of time."

"So, with all this, what do we do? Keep a leisurely pace or speed things up once again?"

"I suggest we do five quick quantum jumps, bringing us to Andromeda. At least, we will have time to adjust path should a probability wave indicate a potential hazard."

"Anyone opposes Ian’s driving habits?" asked Harold.

No one said a word, so Harold looked at Ian.

"Do as you see fit, Son. It is not today I shall undermine the rules of engagement that have served us so well in the past. You still have my trust and, notwithstanding the last hour may have seemed to you, it was not a disavow of your competence, but the need to understand what had happened."

"Thank you for your vote of confidence, Dad. I needed it."

"I know," replied Harold, hugging his Son in his arms.

"Okay guys, back to your stations," said Ian as his Dad released him.

Everyone filed out of the Captain’s Ready Room and took their respective control desk.

"Thebes, calculate four quantum jumps from this location, 1,000 light-years and transfer to Helm. Samson, merge with Thebes for far-sight feedback. Enron, engage auto-pilot as soon as the data is in and trigger the jump sequence!"

Harold looked at his Son. He realised with sadness that the risk-taking had been blown out of Ian and he was afraid that this might one day come bite them in the arse.

"Triggering... Now," said Enron as the pain of the first quantum jump hit them.

***

Follow the adventures of the Atlanteans and the progress of their impossible task in the next book of the Galactica series, Andromeda.

Finale⁵