The Prophesy: Book 4 - Armageddon

 

"So, Anbraxias, what is this report of incoming life form?"

"The signal came from the Magic detection array. According to the report, the source is a G4 star, located 124 light-years from the point of origin."

"Do we know how many stars we have scanned already?"

"There are 3,419 stars, indicating a very low star density region. Most were too cold, or too young to have developed a viable life form. However, of the scanned stars, some 419 are of type G, 1094 are of type K, 581 are of type F, 684 are of type A, 410 are of type B; 100 are of type M, and the rest of type O. About half of these stars are binaries."

"When will that life form reach our collector for materialisation?"

"The distance is 6,850 light-years. This transfer is transwarp, at 9.999995, and will take 13 hours to reach us from initiation. Note it has been on its way for at least an hour already. The consolidation will take another additional two hours, before materialisation occurs."

"Consolidation? What are you talking about, Anbraxias?" asked Annabelle, as she walked in on the Bridge, hair all out of shape and wearing a rather warm-looking nightdress.

"Well, as the transfer occurs, the data stretches along the axis of transfer, with a red shift proportional to the distance in the wave form. The result is that the transfer beam must be accreted in the transfer array before materialisation occurs. It even affects the reports from the shock wave data stream. That is why it took us an hour to get the trigger. The requisite data is still being accreted as we speak. This information includes biosphere data so we can prepare a containment field with appropriate atmospheric, gravitational, radiation levels and types. At least we know it is G4, a relatively bright one. Spectral data is being consolidated so we can offer our guest the proper light and heat."

As Anbraxias told the Queen these results, the reports continued to accumulate from the fast-moving data stream.

"Commander! We have further parameters confirmed. Gravitational field of the planet of origin is at 1.5 G. Atmosphere is 15% oxygen, 70% nitrogen, trace water vapour, trace rare gases, 10% sulphur dioxide, and nearly 5% carbon dioxide. The atmospheric pressure is at two atmosphere and relatively thick. Given the atmosphere’s thickness and cloud cover, Astronomy must not be one of their fortes."

"Thank you Colibri. Set the containment field to match."

"Commander? Something is strange in the incoming data stream."

Harp and Enron moved to look at the data and whistled.

"Anbraxias, create 220 level 10 containment fields. It is not one but quite a few individuals that got collected!"

"Will the consolidation array be able to keep them separate?"

"I do not see why not. After all, I designed these arrays to collect millions of individuals when we evacuated the Earth, and they all came out distinct and separate, even those that had to be ported across the planet’s mass. The separation is guaranteed by the Pauli fermions exclusion principle."

"Let us go back to bed. Twelve hours to reception is a long wait for nothing. I still have three hours of sleep!" said Harp. "Anbraxias, try to figure out their physical appearance, and if they are of different species. Whatever speculations you have is as good a guess as any we may generate."

"Okay, Harp, I will be here when Ian takes over."

***

The next morning, the Royal family was seated at breakfast and Annabelle noticed that P’Tarik was rather depressed.

"What is up young Orc?"

"I am having problems with my bonded. He is acting like a prick, and that is not proper."

"Discipline him!" said Amethyst.

"My Lady, I know how to spank the Monkey, but not the Dragon! He has a tough hide and a temper to match."

After a giggle uproar from the ones within listening range, Typhoon hugged the young Orc.

"Do not worry about it. I will be watching him closely, and Magic even more closely. He will walk the path, or else "

"By the way, Mom, it is eight hours before our initial reception," noted Ian.

"Reception?"

"We are going to collect our new magical beings then. As soon as we are done with breakfast, I will go on the Bridge to see what Anbraxias found on the incoming life form. Who wants to come?"

Everyone wanted to be on the Bridge to help assess the moment. P’Tarik looked dejected.

"When I think I will miss on this because of a Jackass that thinks the world rotated around his belly button!"

"He does not have a belly button, P’Tarik. That is the mark of a Mammal!"

"Oh! Sorry, Typhoon!"

"No offence taken, P’Tarik, and I understood the image quite clearly."

"Where are we headed next?" asked Thorsten.

"I am waiting for Paschal’s next invention."

"What is that, Ian?"

"Well, I think it is foolish to travel from star to star aimlessly in the hope of finding traces of civilisation. That bang has helped us locate magically capable life forms, but it does not help us locate all life forms. Even worse, it is of no help in locating extinct civilisations that might have potential for rescue. I just hope that not all civilisations are like the Bird-brains we found in the last star system!"

"How will you do such a search Paschal? The volume of the Galaxy is enormous; measuring 8.91×10⁶² cubic feet and the observable universe is estimated at 8.37×10⁸¹ cubic feet! And the age of the Universe is estimated at 13,700,000,000 years!"

"P’Tarik, you do not know half the story. We know the age of the universe, almost to the nearest pico-second! We blew it up!"

The poor Orc looked at Ian, wide-eyed. Was the Prince serious? Was he teasing? Was it a prank of galactic magnitude? The face of everyone around him was so serious. It could not be, it just could not be! And Prince Thorsten, no, King Thorsten he reminded himself, looked so grim. What was it he did not get? Harp took pity on the poor Orc, and quickly updated him on the events with the Spiders.

"And you mean to tell me there are 90 Universes to explore? This is nuts!"

"Hey! Do not add more to the total then there is! But yes, that sums it up "

"It will take several life-times just to do this with this galaxy, and there are millions of these star islands in this universe alone!"

"That is the issue we are faced with, yes."

"And you want to explore time as well?"

"Yes."

"You guys are either ready to be tied, or masochists!"

"Your pick, oh wise one!"

"Are you aware that even within a life-time, goals change? Who can guarantee you that these goals, however noble, will not get corrupted in the not so far future?"

"This."

Ian converted to his pure energy form, keeping his light dim so as not to blind anyone.

"What is that?" asked P’Tarik, blinking rapidly.

"Who we are really above and beyond the physical envelope. What we all are, in fact, you included!" replied Harp.

Rockhook had been watching the exchange with slacked jaws until Ian converted to his coherent and cohesive energy form. He had never actually thought out what the goal of the Atlanteans was, and P’Tarik’s questioning had brought to light his own limited knowledge of what his people were engaged in. The sudden appearance of a miniature Sun in the living room had made him blink in surprise and fall off his chair as he backed away in panic. He had to admire P’Tarik’s cool attitude in the face of this unexpected development and gained new respect for the Orc. Then he saw the huge grin splitting Colibri’s face, and he felt totally inadequate. Either Colibri did not understand the scope of this or he was built more stable then a mountain!

"When will I be able to do that?" asked the aforementioned Colibri.

"Shortly, I think. You are well on your way there as is everyone here."

"Are you serious Ian?"

"Oh yes Rockhook. You have been exposed to the magical effects of the Tessaracts for quite a while now, and you should have gained Magical potential. You already had telepathy. It is only a question of confidence in your capacity to try other things and train in Magic. It may still be weak, but it is improving. Everyone will one day be able to do that."

"Everyone?"

"Yes, P’Tarik. You are more advanced in Magic than Rockhook, about as good as Colibri, for that matter. Dad, I think I need to spend time to formalise magical potential tests for every life form."

"I thought you had done so already?"

"Well, I started, but you know the events They sort of interfered. We keep putting fires out!"

"Ah yes, the magical fire Brigade!"

"Is everyone ready to go to the Bridge so we can relieve Anbraxias? P’Tarik, once you are done with your bonded, would you mind reporting to the Bridge as well? We will have a lot of things to examine before we can begin to take in these new life forms."

"Sure Harp. Just how far can I go to bring my bonded in line should he misbehave this morning, King Typhoon?"

"I will be going with you, if Harp does not mind, but as a Wolf. I want to see how he acts without knowing I am there to put an end to his attitude issues."

"Go ahead, Typhoon. Getting that Dragonling in line is vital for the safety of the ship."

***

"Let us port directly in the nest, P’Tarik. I want to see how things are going by doing a surprise check."

"Sure. Do you do spot checks often?"

"No. It is the first time ever I have seen a Dragonling act that way. I will make quite sure it is the last."

"Eternity is a long time, my Lord."

"Well, if he misbehaves again, the result will be seared in the memory of the Dragon Consciousness forever!"

The two Mages popped into the nest behind the Nest Mother. Invisible, they watched the work of the other bonded with their Dragonlings. Off to the far end was the sulking Gold Dragonling. It was apparent he was waiting on his bonded with growing impatience.

«Are you hungry enough to behave this new day?» asked the Nest Mother.

«Enough to eat rock!»

«It might be a good idea. You have Dragon Breath! I suggest you begin to take care of yourself somewhat. Our King has made it clear that the next misdeed will be your last.»

The Dragonling grumbled but began chewing granite to clean his teeth and keep them sharp, reducing it to fine black sand before spitting it out, hot and dry. P’Tarik and Typhoon observed the Dragonling, waiting for the young one to finish his mouthwash. Once the process was done, P’Tarik moved from behind the Nest Mother and walked in the open. Immediately, the other Dragonlings as well as their bonded recognised him and showed marks of respect. However, his Dragonling acted with a lot less formality.

«Dragonling, I expected at least a welcome! Is it too much to ask?»

«I am hungry!»

«So? Should that not encourage you to welcome your provider with a little more enthusiasm? I am not asking for you to roll over and stand on your head, just a ‘hello, how are you? How was your day?’ Something to show that you are not the only centre of the world.»

«But I will be the centre of the world! I will be King!»

«The King of idiots, that Throne you can claim right away. But you will never be King of the Dragons. To be King in Atlantean society, you must deserve it, and you have way too much of a hole to dig yourself out of to ever become King of anything except your petty self!» thundered P’Tarik.

«How can you tell? You are not even a Dragon, much less a King!»

«There, you are wrong, and I wish on you to never to wear that burden, idiot! I see Kings and Princes every day, and I do not envy their work! I look at my people with an immense worry, because things may turn sour when the Adults come out of stasis and I may have to execute quite a few to make the message clear that we are Vassals of Atlantis. To start my reign with bloody hands is not how I envisioned my life!»

«Why? With the Crown comes power!»

«And with power comes responsibility and duty! With absolute power comes absolute duty to the subjects and a bond to the Throne of Atlantis! You love your freedom? Then do not become a King, because you lose it more effectively than if you had been put in chains in a Donjon! I see it every day! Ian, as the Heir, commands this spaceship and is ultimately responsible for all of us! Timor is in charge of the Trolls, and Greywolf, of the Canines; and you think it is easy? Fool! I am only doing the rounds of my own people, I am not even a Prince, and I find the task a burden. As King, I have to do things that I do not feel ready for!»

«Such as?»

«Executing idiots endangering Atlantis, for one! I love you, Dragonling, and it would break my heart, but if I must execute you to protect Atlantis, then I will do so! I have no choice! See what I mean by having duties that are hard to stomach?»

«You could always try to kill me, but I am bigger!»

«I see. You are too stubborn to be taught anything. I told you size had nothing to do with power! This will be your last lesson in your very short life! Let the others learn from it!»

P’Tarik began by spreading his hands wide and then said a single word:

"Frendo!¹⁵¹⁵ ("Frendo: Latin, crush.")"

He then began bringing his hands together. Initially the Dragonling felt nothing, but gradually, he felt a pressure increase on his body from all sides. His breathing became laboured, and then he felt increasing pain as P’Tarik brought his hands ever closer. Bones, scales cracked and the Dragonling, however hard he tried to fight back, could not do anything against the mounting pressure. His thoracic cavity collapsed as well as his bowels, and suddenly, under the tremendous pressure, the mouth, nostrils and eye sockets ejected the blood. His body collapsed to a thin wafer, and the Dragonling, long dead, folded on the nest floor. A whisk of the hand and the body, bowels and other elements that had been the Dragonling were ported to the nearest lava lake.

"So perish those that imperil Atlantis!" said P’Tarik. The other Dragonlings and their bonded gawked at P’Tarik shocked at the power the diminutive Orc had shown. "I just hope Typhoon will allow me another bonded to fill the gap in my heart this one left."

Typhoon had watched the events unfold from under the wing of the Nest Mother. He strolled into the lava sand and sat beside P’Tarik, watching him. The Orc had completely forgotten the presence of Typhoon with him in the nest, and, as he was sitting in the bloody sand crying his heart out for the loss of his bonded, he was surprised to feel a hot tongue wipe his tears off.

«Fear not. You did what was necessary. Had this one been allowed to grow, he would have waged war on all forms of authority to take their place and reign in terror for his sole benefit. As soon as you feel okay, we will search for another bonded, King of the Orcs.»

«I have three last eggs due shortly. One is Gold, my Lords. May I offer it as atonement for that lost Dragonling? I feel responsible for what happened.» said the Nest Mother. «There is more to this than the egg, I like the Orc. I would be pleased to see him in my nest more often.»

«Nest Mother, you are in no way responsible for the Dragonling’s actions. It acted of its own volition, and would have behaved the way it did whoever had been its Nest Mother or bonded. It is just luck we caught this one before it grew to adulthood and had full access to Magic. However, if King Typhoon agrees, I will take the next Dragonling that wishes me as bonded. I feel such a void inside now.»

«P’Tarik, I think the Nest Mother’s suggestion is good. I approve of it. And do take the Gold as bonded.»

«I thought it was the Dragonling that picked the bonded?»

«It is, most of the time. But exceptionally, I am overriding this by Royal Pheromones! He will choose you, and only you. I have percolated his egg yolk with your pheromones, P’Tarik. He will head straight for you when he breaks the shell.»

«Talk about a Royal Decree! I need to learn that trick. But thank you Typhoon. When will he be ready to break out?»

«In three days, P’Tarik.»

«Let us clean up this mess and go to the Bridge. I will visit you later Nest Mother. We have events ready to occur.»

«I expect you back soon!»

P’Tarik replaced the entire sand floor in a flurry of Magic, removing everything and replacing it with a fresh, clean layer of black sand, also adding a new granite bed for those Dragons in the process of moulting. The two Kings then quickly left the nest, leaving the finishing touches to the other bonded. P’Tarik was not in the mood to stay more than necessary in the nest after the morning’s events.

***

"I felt a flare of Magic?" asked Harp as the two Kings made their way into to the Bridge.

"I had to dispose of my bonded. His attitude threatened the Crown and the Empire."

"I see. So must it be."

"Do you have another Dragonling in line for bonding?"

"I saw to it, Prince Alexander. It should be ready to bond by Magic in three months, and ready to take its position beside P’Tarik in six. That will delay your little expedition in the Pyramids by three months. I am sorry for that."

"That is nothing. I prefer a trustworthy bonded than a traitor."

"So, what is the latest on the incoming life forms?"

"According to what we know, it is aquatic. We have found the planet it lives on is composed of 90% water with very little landmass. The sensors we ported directly to the source of the signal tell us the atmosphere is rather rich in oxygen, at 16%, and that the oceans are slightly more saline than the Earth, at 10%. We are currently in the process of determining the genetic composition of the incoming life forms. The data indicates three distinct forms. We are in the process of modelising the expression of these genes, but it is difficult, since we cannot be sure of the protein synthesis sequence."

"Way over my head, Ian. Way, way over my head Enron! You two need to practice the KISS¹⁶¹⁶ ("KISS: Keep it Simple, Stupid!") theorem more often."

"Do you think they have technology?"

"No. Without fire, it is impossible. They were detected by the flare of Magic, not by the impediments of technology, Typhoon."

"Three species?"

"You seem surprised, P’Tarik. Earth supported quite a few magical species, far more than three!" replied Harp.

"Yes, I forgot. What are the expected general forms?"

"Let us see: there is a form that seems to be without bones or anything of the sort, a type of Cephalopod. There is one that seems to walk on the sea bottom, and a swimmer of the chordate type that seems to surface regularly and stay in the upper 3,000 feet of the sea," replied Enron.

"What do you plan to do?"

"We will materialise each individual in distinct containment cells, and then determine if we can regroup them in some fashion. We also need to determine the nature of their food. For now, I have installed three types of containment cells: low-pressure, highly oxygenated, medium-pressure, medium oxygen, an high-pressure, low-oxygen."

"We still have four hours to go before materialisation begins. Let us have a quick lunch and then resume work, guys," decided Ian.

***

"Two minutes to collection! Two minutes!" resonated across the Bridge from Harp’s biological station.

"What is collection?" asked a perplexed Jefferson, sitting beside Ian.

"You see, during a long-distance transfer like this, the waveform spreads, and shifts in frequency. It must be collected in a collector and brought back to its original frequency and form. You see the data stream that leads the wave? It describes the original waveform along the 11 dimensions and also, how the transit through space and time modified it. That is done by comparing a reference wave to the actual wave as it should be had it been just created. It is called interferometry, a trick developed by the Ancients to compensate shimmer in telescopes based on Earth."

"Collection beginning! Start differentiation!"

"Differentiation?"

"Another trick. See, we are getting several life forms at the same time, as you already know. Each life form has a unique base frequency and harmonic series. It is vital we differentiate base frequency to keep each individual unique. How would you like to be, say, half Orc and half Fairy, and not necessarily in the right proportion?"

"Oops!"

"Yes "

An hour later, Harp reported half-transit.

"Before you ask, Jefferson, it means we have 50% of the data collected for the transit. Enron! What is the cohesion?"

"Still perfect."

"Cohesion is the level of internal consistency within the data stream. There are many factors that might damage cohesion, but the stream has a lot of redundant checks so we can correct any mistakes. I am a bit surprised it is still perfect, but it is a measure of the transparency of the Universe to that kind of teleport beam. Do we have an idea of their final shape yet?"

"No," Paschal replied. "The only thing we know for sure is two fully aquatic and another is an oxygen breather."

Another hour passed and Harp reported that the collection process was completed. "Final validation in progress. Ten minutes to first materialisation!"

These 10 minutes were tense. Would the whole process have been in vain?

"Systems ready! Matter stream stable! Grid at optimum!" reported Paschal.

"Begin materialisation!" ordered Ian.

"Materialisation flux in progress! One second to complete cycle for life form one! Vitals?" asked Paschal.

"Blood flux active! Brain active!" reported Harp. "Materialisation complete. It is mobile. It lives."

"Forward camera to cell one!" ordered Ian. "Continue materialisation!"

The forward screen showed a strange ‘Fish’ walking on the bottom of a high-pressure containment cell. It seemed disoriented, a bit lost, but otherwise in good health.

"Next life form in cell two ready for viewing!" signalled Harp.

"Left monitor!" ordered Ian.

There, visible in the white sandy background was a Cephalopod swimming leisurely around and seemingly trying to find what was this containment that held it captive.

"Third life form in cell three ready for viewing on right monitor!" signalled Harp.

The right monitor came to life revealing what seemed to them like a Dolphin that swam more like a Fish than a Dolphin. It had a blowhole on the top and kept to the surface only taking an occasional dive below the surface as it looked for a way out of the containment cell.

"It seems they are all in good health, if a bit anxious. I would be too. Continue the materialisation process," ordered Ian.

"The materialisation process should be completed in 218 seconds. Should we let the containment cells become transparent?"

"No, continue the virtual scenery projection, Harp. We need to establish contact and verify they know of the other species, and if so, what kind of history they have between each other," decided Harold.

"Samson, plot course for their planet of origin. We will continue monitoring for other magical spikes while we progress toward it. Warp nine."

"Transferring the plot to the Helm."

"Enron, get someone to relieve you, I want you, Harp, Paschal and Timor to accompany me to the containment cells," ordered Ian.

"Rockhook to the Bridge!" was heard across the internal communication. A few minutes later the four Royals were ready to leave for the containment cells.

"Disengage from search pattern! Rockhook! Set course according to plot," ordered Harold. "Estimate travel time to our destination!"

"Distance: 6875 light-years as we have been drifting away from it since we received the signal, Harold. At warp nine, it would take 4.5 years and a dusting of days."

"Okay. Engage slipstream drive at warp 9.999995!"

"The estimated arrival time to the Erigon star is estimated at 13.2 hours."

"That is fine. Get relieved from the helm by the ternary crew in four hours."

***

Ian, Paschal, Harp, Enron and Timor made their way to the area with the containment cells.

"How did you place the cells?" asked Ian, as they walked into Tessaract two, level 16.

"The first cells are the high-pressure bottoms of the sea environments. Each cell is about a square mile. Of the 220 containment cells, 51 are of this type; 102 are open-sea, medium-pressure environments; and the 67 others are low-pressure atmosphere-interface. Strangely, these are the most complex to maintain," replied Enron.

"Why this tessaract? I expected them to be in the Ark?"

"I prefer keeping them in isolation," replied Harp. "We have to insure there are no contaminants. And the Zoo is not the best place to put visitors in, if only for how it might be perceived. Level 16 is far away from any occupied level in Tessaract two, and inanimate objects occupy them. We will be the first in the area since we moved the material from the Ancients’ Vaults. Maintenance is done by the Spiders, not the Janitors, who have enough work to do already in other areas."

"Hey, here comes one of the cleaners!" said Timor, as a small robot rolled in view, its hose sucking in every speck of dust it could locate. In the beginning, it ignored the visitors to its domain but then it began sucking on their clothes to remove dust.

"Hold it right there, dumb machine!" thundered Harp as it began sucking on his clothes. "I am not interested in getting a blow job from you!"

The hysterical laughter that followed Harp’s declaration resonated in the long hallway.

"Stop that machine!" said Harp, as he tried to reach the stop button.

"Oh, come on, use Magic!" said Paschal. "If I try to reach the button physically, it will begin giving me a blow job!"

Harp used telekinesis to push the stop button. As the machine came to a halt, he looked at Paschal askance.

"What is that?"

"A vacuum cleaner, Harp! It was a machine invented by the Ancients. However, I improved it. It can clean up the walls, ceilings, and floor by using that flexible hose. I put an electronic eye that spots dust. It can climb stairs too. It has a map of its area and compares it to what it sees on a continuous basis to check for any damaged goods. Even when it is not cleaning a surface, it sucks air and filters the dust out."

"Let us continue to the containment cells. I wonder how these machines adjusted to their presence?"

"The machines detect obstacles. And the confinement cells are themselves stored in a containment cell that block any Magic from transferring outside of the restricted area. It is a four-fold dimensional warp on dimensions 6, 8, 10 and 11."

"Harp! TMI¹⁷¹⁷ ("TMI: Too Much Information")! I need not know the technical aspects of how you did these containment cells," Timor replied.

"It has its importance, Timor. See, when we reach the outer containment area, one of us, and only one of us, will enter beyond the shield. The objective is to test the psionic level these life forms have. The other three will stay behind, and act as safety line. You, my friend, are the one going in. We will know immediately if something is up and be ready to rescue you should something unexpected occur. Contrary to the individual containment cells, the one you will cross is transparent, at least to us. We will be able to see what you do and figure out if your behaviour is affected."

"I see. If psionic is blocked, how do you plan to rescue me?"

"It is blocked one way, not both! I will be listening on your brain activity."

"We are there. Let us enter the first lock and downsize to the proper ratio. Tell me, from what I see here, the inner cells are organised in a honeycomb?"

"Yes, Timor, it is the most effective packing method there is," replied Paschal.

After entering the selected tessaract level and coming down to the proper size, the communication team binded their brains into a web.

"Feeling comfortable, Timor?"

"Yes Harp!"

"Okay, we are ready as well."

Timor made his way beyond the psionic shield and immediately felt the assault of alien minds on his. He backed out a few seconds to reinforce his personal shields and tried again. The loud buzz, no, the din of the psionic activity was almost unbearable. He backed out again to let his poor brain adjust some more.

"It is quite a noise, is it not?" asked Harp.

"Yes, and the problem is we have nothing in common to establish contact. Do you have any suggestions?"

"Try Mathematics," replied Paschal.

"Mathematics? I do not understand."

"Whatever the particularities of these species, one thing they have in common with us is Mathematics. Start with the integers. Transmit at full force the Fibonacci series: 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, and 21. Repeat until one of them replies with the next number, 34."

"And how do I get their attention?"

"Like a God. Use thunder," replied Sitar.

"Thunder?"

"Psionic thunder, I mean. I am sure you can override all the noise with one of your own."

"Oh, I see. Back to work."

Timor passed the shield and took Sitar’s suggestion to the letter. There was a sudden surge of psionic power that overrode everything in the area, putting even the shield at trial.

"I knew Timor had grown in power, but that much? It seems his long stays in the Tessaracts has paid off handsomely,"

"Yes, Harp, and that side-effect of tessaracts worries me. Imagine these individuals in there growing hostile. With boosted psionics, we might be in trouble."

"You have a point. Let me adjust the Tessaract level here so we do not wake up with roaming entities in Thebes."

"Wait until Timor is out of there. You are the most likely candidate to get him out if things turn sour. Anyway, Timor has begun transmitting the series. Let us listen in," said Enron.

It took eight transmissions before a counter-signal was transmitted by one of the individuals. Timor had been methodical: Short pulses with silence either short or long to indicate a grouping, then a long silence equivalent to the inter-grouping space and the length of 34 pulses. Timor then began with basic operations such as addition and once the life form had replied properly to a series of simple additions, he inverted the process and introduced subtraction, then multiplication and division. The number of replied also began to increase as more and more individuals took to the numerical exchange. The Princes began to notice that, whereas the initial psionic environment had been cacophonous, it gradually became more organised. The exchange, at first targeting only Timor, also began to start between the three different species.

Finally, the difficult task of extending the exchange beyond simple Mathematics to such notions as space, time, and other fundamentals of Physics began. The biggest issue was projecting images in two different forms: visual for the surface dwellers and tactile for the medium and deep-sea dwellers. Timor began to introduce plane geometry, with lines, circles, and basic geometric figures such as squares, diamonds, the circle, and the triangle. Then he added depth, to make them get the notion of cube, pyramid, sphere, and cone.

The second issue was finding common ground between different species since they lived in different layers of the same oceanic system. The common factor was hard to find, but volcanism offered the juncture required. Timor projected an image of a submersed volcano in eruption and got everyone on the same page, especially when he included the thermal signatures of the water rising in the convective currents. He added surface volcanism, something the surface dwellers understood and confirmed to the others. Very slowly, Timor introduced other notions such as surface land masses, in the form of small islands, again getting a confirmation by the surface dwellers to those that had never even come close to the oceanic surface.

The next difficult task was to make them realise that their world was spherical, not flat. It took some serious work for the surface dwellers to understand this image was how their world looked from far away. Adding rotation to the projection, and a light source again brought questions from the life forms that lived in perpetual darkness, but the confirmation of the circadian cycle by the surface dwellers helped them to grasp the principle, even if it taxed their imagination.

The next issue was much more complex. How do you introduce Astronomy to a life form that has never even seen a star, much less a planet or a galaxy? That was the quandary Timor faced. He resorted to a simple expedient: meteorites. The falling stars are common to all gravity wells, be they stars or planets. It was again the surface dwellers that understood the concept first, and realised they were seeing a shower of falling lights. They were surprised, because if viewing meteorite showers on Earth is a common enough occurrence, within a thick atmosphere that hides most astronomical phenomenons from view, they were rare and generally bode for bad omen, since an object capable to reach the surface was generally rather massive and created shock waves that made for loss of life amongst the surface dwellers. Another intensive lesson in planetary Physics followed, accompanied by a lot of repeated, if differing, scenarios. The last step was to introduce the notion of star as the main source of energy for everything on the surface. That proved more difficult than one might think, since the bottom dwellers, well familiar with the need for heat, always thought the ultimate source of energy was from below, in the form of thermal vents. The notion of limited energy supply was, on the other hand, quite familiar to the sea-bottom dwellers, who had to migrate from one thermal source to another on a regular basis in order to stay alive. The notion of desert was, for them, quite simple: very cold, no food and no resources. They would regularly fan out to find new thermal vents, quite aware that the number of survivors to these migrations was limited at best. In fact, it never happened a migrant came back; it was only the occasional arrival of a newcomer from another thermal vent that told them there were other places to be. The notion of desert also allowed all three life forms another common anchor, as each had their own version of vast sterile space to travel to migrate in search of food.

Timor took the occasion to introduce the discussion about sex and the notion of diversity. That proved another common point: all three life forms had understood the need to welcome new members in their community to insure a healthy population, although they had not yet understood the underpinnings of this action. Using this as a springboard, Timor introduced the notion that there might be other intelligent life forms on their planet, and that shape was not a measure of intellect. All three species balked at the idea, assured they each represented the ultimate achievement in shape and mental prowess. Timor backed away from this and began the introduction of simple ecological systems for them to begin discussing food, Prey and Hunters, and other notions. Timor, having spent virtually four days non-stop explaining things to them, decided to call the class to a close. He simply gave them an assignment: to describe each other to those they could talk to. He then walked beyond the shield.

***

"How are you feeling?"

"Damn tired! It was time I took a break, Harp!"

"Since the ratio of time was set to 1:96 and you spent an hour in there, I am not surprised!"

"Get to bed and rest. We will take over in 15 minutes. It will give them a full day to maul on the issue you left them with, but I wonder why you picked it up?"

"I want them to realise they are talking to different species. Once they realise that, they will have to rethink their self-centred views. I have been wondering, Harp, if the cell wards are designed to resist any psionic attacks?"

"Yes, they are designed to deflect an attack, usually sending it right back at the attacker."

"Good. I suspect we may have some losses when we come back to them."

"Not too many?"

"Hopefully. I am off to bed. I miss Iridia."

The 15 minutes were quickly over and it was now the turn of Paschal to pass the shield. Having learned from Timor’s experience, he entered fully shielded and expecting the worse. He was surprised by the quiet that marked his arrival, and was worried there might not be any survivors.

«Anyone present?» he transmitted across the bandwidths that had been used for telepathy by the extra-terrestrial life forms.

«Who is asking?»

«The teacher, that is who. Have you learned anything from the rest period and your assigned task?»

«Yes. We are different. To which of us do you belong?»

«None. We share no physical characteristics because we do not live in the same environment.»

«I told you the God would not be similar to us!» said one of the Whale-like Extra-Terrestrial.

«You sound different?» said one of the Octopus-like form, as a couple of bottom-dwellers enquired plaintively by a «we?»

«We as yes there are more than one of us. Your first lesson was given by one of us, now it is my turn to teach. Are you ready to listen?»

A long silence followed, but finally, the initial speaker replied.

«Are we allowed to ask any question?»

«Certainly, as long as you are willing to answer any question we might have about you. It is not that we cannot find the answer directly. We can. However, it is considered improper to do so. If you balk, we will resort to the later.»

«What kind of questions?»

«Are you comfortable?»

«Yes,» came a common reply.

«All three varieties of you are predators. We supplied food. Was it satisfactory?»

«Yes!» answered a chorale of voices.

«Do you have kin you wish to contact?»

«Kin?»

«Members of your kind whom are closely related to you for genetic or reproduction purposes, such as a sexual mate, descendants, known as Children, or ascendants, known as Parents?»

Only the Whale-like Extra-Terrestrials members of the collection had a notion of what Paschal was talking about. It became apparent they had the notion of Pod, but that those captured by the Atlanteans had been on the verge of leaving their respective family group to find new partners and create new Pods.

«Do you compete for reproduction rights?»

A resounding «Yes!» followed the question.

«We will have to find a solution to this. You represent a very limited sample of your respective species, a subset that has special characteristics we do not want to see disappear. That means we may have to regulate reproduction to maximise these characteristics while minimising the need for competition, especially since you could effectively kill each other on a whim.»

«Are you Gods to act like this?»

«We do not believe we are Gods, but then, what defines a God? We got labelled Gods often, and we fit that definition closely, but we do not feel God-like. We began this work not too long ago, and we may have just enough time to realise it before time comes to an end.»

«What task?» asked the first individual that had talked to Paschal.

«Our task is to save life from ultimate destruction, to ensure that it evolves toward its maximum potential. There are very few of you that meet the first criteria: psionic capabilities. Your world may be doomed, but you, and your Children, are of the few that will live. We guide so you reach that potential.»

«That will change us!»

«Nothing is static; all must change or perish. The only thing we do here is give a direction to that change; we do not create the rules, we just bend them to ensure survival of life.»

«How much change?»

«Enough to ensure you need not depend on your current environment to live, reproduce, and to be part of the solution rather than part of the problem. You have lived in an aquatic environment; it will mean that, in millions of years, you will have the ability to live in totally different media, much like we can. We can live in your environment, but we live in many others as well.»

«Do we have a say in this?» asked another Extra-Terrestrial, a bottom-dweller. «What if we do not want to be part of this?»

«Then you get returned to your planet, exactly where you were picked up. But there are consequences for you.»

«What consequences?»

«We remove psionic powers; the Prince of Magic can do and will do so without any issue. Second, you lose the knowledge of us, of the others, of the events, of anything.»

«An abduction of this length will have been noticed!»

«The reality is that the time you have spent here is infinitely small, less than a few heartbeats in your time line. Most of your contemporaries have not even noticed your absence. Those that have, and they are few, are likely to consider you crazy if you ever did recover the memory of these events. We know what happens to those who are considered a danger to the community in your respective cultures, and you know too. What you do not know is we can manipulate time, matter, and even memory. It is even easier to erase a fresh memory than a long-lasting one, and those things you learned have not yet taken hold in your brain. Decide! Do you wish to be returned to your previous condition, or are you willing to continue in this adventure with us? I will let you discuss amongst yourselves what you wish to do. You have a day!»

Paschal left the Extra-terrestrials to their discussions and musings, and returned beyond the shield.

"You did not mince your words, Paschal."

"We have little time for this. We have a Universe to save, Sitar. You are next."

"What should I tell them?"

"The truth about what you do, and why."

Sitar did not discuss the issue any further. Paschal’s comments were right and they all understood the need for efficiency. Sitar passed the shield 15 minutes later to take his turn at the pulpit.

«So, decision time! And before you ask, I am not the same that talked to you already. I am the God of War, if you want a name.»

«Are you doing war on our people?» asked a deep-sea dweller.

«No. We do war on life forms that attack us. You have not done so.»

«Who would do war with you?»

«The mind-eaters, or as we call them, the Soul-eaters have been at war with us for far longer than you can number. Then, there are the Scavengers, which come after a battle to feed on what is left of the battlefield; and finally, the Robotic Miners, that eat a planet to the core. These, thankfully, are few, but they are unforgiving. I will describe to you each one of these space-farers and you can decide if you stand a better chance alone than with us.»

Sitar gave a rapid description of each, and the Soul-eaters got most of the questions, followed by the Miners.

«Let me tell you this: we defeated the Soul-eaters solidly, at the cost of our refuge, but we are not dumb enough to believe we got them all. They are less arrogant, but the moment they sense your people have evolved enough to feed them, you will be in their sight. And they will ravage your planet from top to bottom, leaving only lichens to grow on the surface. Then the Scavengers will come, and recover everything they can, from the water to any technological titbit they can, that is, if the Miners do not come first and begin eating your planet from the surface to the core.»

«What can be done to halt this?»

«What we have done with you, take you out of there before you psionic signals reach them, thus, temporarily, hiding your home world from their greed.»

«Took us out? What do you mean?»

«I thought my predecessor’s explanations were clear enough. You are no longer on your planet of origin, but aboard our vessel that travels the stars. We are moving toward your planet in order to assess the situation more carefully, and determine how to best protect it from the Soul-eaters, the Scavengers, and the Miners. These protections, if we decide to leave them behind, are by no means foolproof. However, we value life, and we will do our best to give your population the time to evolve in peace. You are one of the potential outcomes of this evolution, assuming many things: stable environment, and no interventions from external disruptive forces such as those we plan to protect your people from. It is by no means a guarantee your evolution will lead to species able to travel the stars without outside influence. We have found many civilisations that did not make it because they were self-destructive. I doubt your own species is any different, but we wish to give your world a chance at gaining this capacity. Given you live in a mostly aquatic world, the chances are thin. We know metallurgy is totally unknown to you, as well as high-energy combustion, known to us as fire, simply because water and fire just cannot co-exist.»

«So, if I understand this, our people will never in all likelihood, be able to navigate the stars because of our world’s configuration, but we are the exception. The other thing is, our planet is a target for those you call Soul-eaters, and, by escaping now, we are in effect giving ourselves a chance at survival. To complete the picture, you plan on protecting our planet to the best of your capacity, without certainty of success, so our people can have a chance at doing what you, yourself, consider very unlikely. Is this correct?»

«Yes.»

«Then I decide to stay. Better have a chance than none whatsoever.»

«Does anyone need further explanations of the situation and the offer?

No one replied, so Sitar continued.

«Who wants to be sent back?»

Again no one replied.

«Then so it is. We will continue teaching you, and begin readying you for a constructive contribution to our project as Guardians of the aquatic life forms. In due time, we will give you the capacity to travel space on your own. It may not be you, not even your Children, but one day, it will be available to you. For now rest and explore your containment cells, and exchange between each other. Shortly, the containment cells separating members of the same species will fall, and, later, those separating different species. We need to gradually adjust your ecosystems so you can share, and the time required is highly dependent on your respective physiology. The next visitor will guide you in mastering your psionics. He is the Prince of Magic. It will not be any time soon, because he has ample work already. Rest and feed.»

Sitar passed the shield, and rejoined the others.

"Damn it, it is more complicated than I thought to incorporate new life forms in the project."

"Hopefully, it will not always be so. Let us go rest ourselves," decided Ian. "Dad has increased the speed, so we should reach their world in 12 hours."

"Do you think we will find other psionic life forms?"

"It is more than likely, Sitar. The issue is their number will increase exponentially as the sphere expands. Life will always surprise me, and finding psionic aquatic forms was one of them."

"Why so, Harp? After all, we got the Dolphins, and they are likely to become psionic in the short run; and we have not even looked into what the giant Octopus can do. That we found a life form similar to an Octopus that shows psionics should encourage us to try and establish contact with them. Even those life forms rescued from Earth could still harbour some surprises."

"Paschal, you are right. We have been neglecting our own front yard. I will get to it."

"Oh no, you do not, Enron. We need you at the helm for the entry into the star system and you head to rest!" ordered Ian. "I will be in my ready room when you guys come out of a well-deserved nap. Harp, bring the containment cells’ time flow to match ours."

"Okay. I will do that in a minute."

"I wonder how P’Tarik is handling the loss of his bonded?"

"Sitar, from what I can feel of him, he is hurt, but he is handling thing with maturity. He knows the Dragonling did not leave him any choice. And I think that Typhoon’s approval plays a great part in the healing. He is off to get a new bonded. I think that will close the door on this bad episode."

"Assuming the next one is not as much a prick as the first!"

"Typhoon explained to me what he did, and it is very unlikely that the Dragonling will act up."

"Good."

«Ian to the Bridge! Sitar to the Bridge! Timor to the Bridge! Enron to the Bridge!»

«We are on our way, Dad.»

Just as Ian answered, the red alert klaxon began ringing across the ship.

"All hands to battle stations! All hands to battle stations!" thundered over the intercom.