Parallel (2 page)

The Lenoreans did not have long before they ran out of the rare substance that powered their world. It was that search for Eitr that had led the Lenoreans to discover alternate realities existing beyond the veil of time and space.

Ryol redirected her attention to a new line of analysis as the room ceased its realignment. Aurora simulated an immersive rendering of the moment leading to this new world’s Event Zero.

An alien room, with many objects made of metals and glass, appeared around her. The furniture created from sharp angles and flat panels lacked the subtlety and sophistication of the Lenoreans’ work. Even so, they possessed a similarity Ryol was unaccustomed to seeing in foreign objects. These designs, based on the same physiological principles as the Lenoreans’, made her heart race with excitement.

Her heart quickened and her hands became slicked with sweat. She canceled all programs running in the back of her mind. She redirected all her focus to the individual standing in the center of the room, frozen in time.

Blue light leapt from a box in his hand. It traced a straight line across the room before terminating at a blank wall.

The emotions of this species were unfamiliar to Ryol, but if they were at all similar to the Lenoreans, the parted lips with exposed teeth indicated a state of happiness.

Or rage.

She hoped for happiness.

Never, in the thousands of worlds Ryol had explored, had she discovered a civilization sharing such striking physical characteristics with the Lenoreans. Though undoubtedly at different phases of their evolutionary development, the possibilities were endless.

I must inform the Madam Leader immediately.

Ryol studied the scene a while longer. She could not repress the spring of emotion bubbling in her stomach. It swelled inside her, searching for an escape. She did the only thing she could think of to release the happiness—she parted her lips, exposing the white enamel of teeth below, and smiled.

CHAPTER THREE

Falia

Falia listened with hands folded in her lap. That was her strength, her gift. Others presumed she possessed an unlimited capacity for attention, but that was incorrect. True, her ability to subdivide her attention was unrivaled, but it had limits. Presently, those limits were in no danger of being tested.

Heads of state from across the known Universe jockeyed for position. Each raised their voice, desperate to be heard over the others. An interesting phenomenon considering nobody in the room spoke the same language. Without the Lenorean computer, Aurora, handling translations, there would be no communicating between the species.

Despite the cacophony of voices, Falia remained quiet and listened.

“This threat of aggression is unacceptable.” Delegate Oleid, an enormous being with boulders for muscles and flecks of onyx for eyes, had a voice that sounded like rocks being dragged across one another. “The Graesians have violated the Mandate. They should be removed from the Alliance.”

Delegate Graes flapped iridescent wings that lifted him effortlessly. He stood on spindly legs, towering over the rest of the congregation, all of whom remained seated with the exception of the Oleidian Delegate. Falia observed faint purple lines crisscrossing the Graesian’s wings. Blood vessels. The intricate complexity of life throughout the Dimensions never ceased to amaze her.

“We will not be chided like children for insuring the survival of our race,” Delegate Graes said in a series of buzzing clicks that caused the hairs on Falia’s neck to prickle. “Diplomats believe they can rule without force, but I tell you it is not so. You allow my people to suffer, when you”—Graes turned a long, knobby finger to Falia—“have the means to save them. My people will show you the folly of your ways.”

The time for listening had come to an end.

Falia stood.

She lacked the Graesian’s impressive physicality, but she bore a silent dignity that commanded the silence of the room. Falia held Delegate Graes’ gaze until his bravado faltered.

“The Lenoreans brought the Graesians into the Alliance for the benefit of your people despite the threat posed by your warring ways. Planet Graes teetered on the brink of calamity. If left to its own devices, it would have imploded centuries ago. This council, seeing that we could save your people, made an exception by allowing your admittance into the Alliance. We’d hoped to impart a more civilized conduct upon your people, but alas, we knew that we would fail.” Falia infused her voice with a symphony of melodies and rhythms designed to spread calm. Delegate Graes slumped into his chair, the tension ebbing from his features. “I’m afraid we can no longer make exceptions for Graes. The threat against all known and yet unknown Dimensions is too great with what the Graesians have learned from the Alliance in the past three centuries. Our first responsibility is to maintain peace and safety throughout the Universe. It is with this in mind, and a burden in my heart, that I banish the Graesians from the Alliance, and place them under immediate Inter-Dimensional Embargo.”

Silence descended on the room in a blanket of tension. Falia did not speak. She allowed the silence to build, coaxing it like a conductor until the white noise, penetrated only by nervous breathing, was deafening in its oppression. Falia’s blood throbbed in her chest at what the Graesian was forcing her to do. She would not, however, allow emotion to permeate the room and cloud the minds of the Delegates. They had their own emotions to contend with. They did not need hers infecting their decisions.

“All in favor?” she asked.

Eleven sets of appendages rose slowly in the air. The Delegates shifted in their chairs, but nodded their consent.

“The motion carries.” Falia had just ordered the death of an entire planet. Without the resources provided by the Alliance, Graes would collapse. She could do no more for them. The Alliance could not risk the fate of the Universe for that of one planet.

The smooth black carapace surrounding the Graesian’s thousand-prism eye twitched as he stood. His head twisted unnaturally to study the seated members of the Alliance. Then with a sharp buzz that cut the silence, he slammed his heavy tail into a chair. The bulbous stinger at the end sliced through the metal and buried itself in the marble floor with a sickening crunch.

“Kick us out of your pacifism club,” the Graesian said. “But we know the Lenoreans do not have enough Eitr to enforce any such embargo. You are self-righteous in your security, but you will come to regret your complacency. I promise war is at your doorstep. There will be a reckoning for this betrayal.”

Falia’s attention remained fixed on the Delegate. He was incorrect about the Eitr. Enough remained for the embargo, though it would accelerate the destruction of Lenora by centuries. Her people would be left with one hundred and three years to find that precious element in another Dimension. By protecting the planets represented in the Alliance, Falia risked the fate of her own people.

It would be easier to destroy the Graesians, but that was not the way of the Alliance. Not the way of the Mandate she herself had written.

“By joining the Alliance you signed the Articles of Peace. It is under that authority that I place Graes under immediate quarantine from all known and yet unknown Dimensions.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Delegate Graes said in shock. “You prescribe suicide upon your own people.”

The silence returned in absoluteness, muting everything so that even thoughts, confined to the prison of one’s own mind, were whispered.

Falia twisted and curled her arms in an elaborate, soundless dance. The lights dimmed, and the high blank wall behind her faded into oblivion, revealing the black void of space through which the Neutral Zone floated. Falia’s silhouette merged with the black backdrop. Her pupils, burning like red embers, provided the only light in the room.

Activate quarantine protocol.

The Delegates fixed their attention on the Madam Leader as a firestorm swirled across her irises.

Quarantine protocol initiated.

Linked directly to Aurora, Falia manipulated the super-computer as an extension of her own body. She expanded beyond the confines of her mortal body. The Universe hung on her whim. The Delegates sat frozen in fear and morbid curiosity, afraid that if they were to blink the whole of existence would cease. She could taste their thoughts.

And then it appeared.

A beacon of light filled the void behind Falia. A planet, small by most standards, appeared out of the darkness.

The literal veil dropped from Falia’s eyes as the metaphorical one dropped from Delegate Graes’. He thrust a thin, spear-like arm at the screen in a shock of fear and understanding. “T-t-that’s Graes.”

“Yes.” Falia would not allow the Delegates to see the sadness she held in her heart. Shutting out her emotions would make the task easier—to kill without conscience—but that was not the Lenorean way. She would carry the weight of her actions. She would leave a portion of her attention on this moment for the rest of her life.

Remembering was the burden borne by the Leader.

She doomed Graes to its fate precisely because she remembered the pain and horror of wars long since over.

Never again.

Falia waved a hand in a slow circle. Aurora responded to her mental touch. A blinding green light erupted from the top of the planet and dripped down its sides, covering every inch of Graesian sky. The light reconnected at the opposite pole, and for a moment Graes pulsed inside its artificial green cage.

“Graesian, you are free to return to your planet now, but you will never be permitted to leave.”

“What have you done?” Delegate Graes asked, his voice barely rising above a whimper. His earlier venom had abandoned him.

“I have sealed your planet within its own Dimension. Graes is free to live out its existence, in its Galaxy, free from the meddling of the Alliance. But your people will never be permitted to travel between Dimensions. It is not a punishment. It is protection. A people of war can never be trusted with the power of Inter-Dimensional Travel.” Falia turned from the former Delegate.

The Graesian collapsed into his chair, his head sank into his hands as his shoulders shook with sobs. Falia wished to join him in mourning, but there was much to be done, and now so little time.

Falia trailed a long, slender finger along the edge of the table as she stepped down from the elevated platform. Mineal, her assistant, stood at the bottom with glazed eyes. Falia waited patiently for Mineal to return from whatever conversation she was engaged in.

The fog over Mineal’s gaze lifted, giving way to the sliver of orange iris.

“Anything important?” Falia placed a hand on Mineal’s shoulder and walked down the hall.

“Yes, Madam Leader. Your daughter has requested a meeting.”

Falia divided her attention amongst an almost inconceivable number of thoughts and programs. For any other Lenorean it would be a fatal amount of information to process simultaneously, requiring them to pull focus from areas reserved for bodily functions. Breathing would cease along with the autonomic functioning of the heart. It would end inevitably in death. For Falia, born to the highest level of operations possible, these processes were barely noticeable. Her bodily functions remained undisturbed while she opened yet another line of thought.

She conjectured what Ryol could have to discuss that would necessitate a personal meeting on this of all days. Before she’d fully exhaled a breath, she had reached the only conclusion. A new world of vital importance had been discovered. Perhaps she would not be mourning for the Lenoreans after all.

“Have Ryol meet me in my office at her earliest convenience,” Falia said, stopping at the end of the long hall in front of a protective barrier shimmering like smoke over water. The door behind the barrier appeared to be cut from pure obsidian. In fact, there was no door, only the matte black reflection of space stalking silently on the other side of the thin smoking barrier.

Mineal placed a hand on the biometric scanner beside the door. The void of space gave way to a blue sky streaked with ribbons of orange and yellow. Lenora.

Falia stepped through the barrier, which resisted her entrance only slightly before releasing its weak grasp on her. The density of the atmosphere shifted and Falia filled her lungs with an enormous breath. The fresh earthy aroma of Lenorean air attacked her senses in waves of nostalgia. She loved returning home.

Her office, a sphere of glass suspended in the sky over the great capital city of Estria, offered an unrivaled view of the city sparkling with activity thousands of feet below. Falia basked in the lilac-hued light cast off by the setting sun. She froze all thoughts running through her mind and delivered herself freely to that instant. With all her attention focused on one thought at a time, there were few problems that could not be solved.

All great Lenorean discoveries of the past thousand generations had come precisely in this manner.

Nothing would be solved now, though. Falia remained unmoving in a state of meditation. Her pupils contracted, absorbing the room’s ambient light like twin black holes. Her breath slowed into non-existence.

The arrival of another consciousness in the room pulled Falia out of her own mind. Turning to the newcomer, Falia resumed the myriad of thoughts. “Thank you for coming, Ryol.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Ryol

“I’m sorry to disrupt you, Mother.”

“Not at all,” Falia said, gesturing towards a chair in the center of the room. “I’m glad you’ve come.”

Sitting required less attention than standing, and a sliver of space became available in Ryol’s mind. She had no other thoughts running at the moment requiring additional attention, but not wanting to appear inefficient in the presence of her mother, Ryol opened a new line of thought, allocating the merest sliver of her consciousness towards enjoying the sunset all but submerged beyond the horizon.