The Heart of Matter: Odyssey One (18 page)

“I am. Interesting quandary, I must admit,” the voice of Central replied. “On the one side, a fast and certain death at the hands of the Drasin. On the other, the uncertainty of further contact with a species that appears to be very nearly as bad.”

The featureless silver polish of the room was as frustrating to Eric as the disembodied voice’s words. As he turned around, casting out for the source, he could only see himself in a blurred and warped reflection.

“Just as bad?” he challenged angrily. “We’re the same species as your Priminae!”

“Are you?” the voice mused, sounding quite unaffected by Eric’s anger. “What constitutes a species, I wonder? Genetically, you are identical, this is true—or at least to within acceptable divergences. There are some differences in those humans from your world I’ve been able to observe. Your adrenaline production is 43 percent more than a comparable Priminae, muscle mass is 6 percent denser, on average, which I am unable to comprehend, as I’ve determined from your conversations that your world has a slightly lower gravity…”

Eric blinked, still casting about helplessly as the voice went on, listing facts with a dry, flat delivery.

“Your brain power is significantly less, and you have a much higher degree of emotional expression—”

“What are you talking about?” Eric finally cut off the voice.

“And you have a disturbing lack of patience,” it finished without missing a beat. “Still, these are within acceptable parameters to define the nature of humanity. By a physical degree, at least.”

“I told you that.”

“However, your mental aberrations are quite perplexing,” the voice continued. “In fact, judging from your FirstMind, and those others I have been able to monitor, there are a number of startling and quite disturbing implications of your presence on Ranquil and within Priminae space.”

“Wait, wait, wait…” Eric held up his hands. “Excuse me, did you say ‘monitored’?”

“Of course.”

“You’ve been eavesdropping on us?”

INTERSTELLAR SPACE

▸THE SYSTEM WAS alive with malignant colors. At least three of the worlds within were infected, the ugly red gashes marring their tones, but that was only one part of the problem the Drasin hive mind felt as it sank a little deeper into the well of the sun. There were powerful, blazing colors moving within the well against the natural plane. They, too, carried the crimson bane, though it was harder to detect on them, as the colors were too young to have absorbed much of it yet.

It was a pity, then, that they would have to be eliminated as well.

Previous experience had warned it, though, that the young colors were to be considered dangerous. They harbored power out of proportion to their age and size, and while only rarely a significant threat, those few times could result in the loss of many.

It settled into a deep elliptic then, staying with the natural flow of the system, and calmly called upon more of its own to purge the discolored system.

It had time. It was patient.

“Eavesdropping?” The voice sounded more curious than anything else. “A fascinating concept, Captain Weston. I’m afraid that it does not, strictly, apply to me, however.”

“You’re reading people’s minds without permission!” Eric snapped, becoming more than a little frustrated. Honestly, though, he half suspected that it was from the lack of an actual person to talk to than the conversation itself.

Just as he thought that, of course, the air in front of him shimmered and a radiant image appeared in front of him. It was a humanoid figure, bathed in white light like something celestial from ancient myth.

Not original, by any means, Weston thought as he stared, but effective enough at grabbing his attention.

It was something to look at other than the silver walls.

“True,” the figure said, shifting slightly, lifting one radiant arm to brush along its “head.” “However, the term implies some intent on my part to overhear the thoughts or communications of others. That’s not the case.”

Eric stared for a moment, trying to get his mind back in gear now that he was looking at something that could, for all intents and purposes, pass for an angelic being. Finally, he managed to wrench his thoughts back to the present and quickly review what had been said.

“What are you talking about?” he asked finally. “How can that not be the case?”

“Would you consider it eavesdropping if someone were constantly yelling in your ear?” the figure asked mildly and gave a very human shrug. “I’m afraid that all sources of electromagnetic disturbance within the planetary field are effectively
the same as ‘yelling in my ear,’ as it were. I am quite unable to avoid it.”

Eric had been about to snap at the voice, or figure, again but was brought up short by that answer.

“But…” he said, blinking hard as he took in the full extent of what was being said, or what he hoped was the full extent. If it went any further than what he was thinking, he was going to be frightened. “That would mean that you could read the minds of every person on the entire planet.”

“Essentially correct, though not entirely so,” the voice replied, still mildly commenting as if on some clinical experiment. “There are locations within the field that are scarred, or blocked, from my sense. Like all things I have observed in my lifetime, what is theoretical and how it works in practice are two very different things.”

Eric found himself nodding in agreement before he caught himself. “That’s billions of people!”

“Forty billion, three hundred and eighty million, ninety-eight thousand, and…forty-two, as of thirty seconds ago. The number fluctuates moment to moment.”

“I’ll bet,” Eric replied dryly.

“A wager would be unwise…Oh, that was sarcasm.” The voice paused and actually seemed to frown as it stood there, still glowing. “It is difficult to properly read you. I wonder if this is how humans communicate with each other?”

“I doubt it,” Eric told it. “We don’t generally pry into each other’s thoughts.”

“A point, Captain. However, that’s not what I mean, precisely,” the voice replied. “What I mean is that, when dealing with you and your people, there is a less…
fluid
transfer of information. You think something, I ‘hear’ it, and then I
process it and can respond. When the Priminae think something, it is more like I thought of it myself. Occasionally, I have difficulty determining if an idea was mine or theirs…”

Gestalt
.

The word popped into Eric’s mind like a light switch turning on, and he stared for a long moment before it really sunk in. “You’re a gestalt.”

The voice seemed taken aback at the comment, and it forgot to gesture in a humanlike manner, as its avatar faded for a moment before coming back.

“A fascinating concept, Captain,” it said finally. “Perhaps…Perhaps, you are correct. I am unable to determine any method to disprove it that would not result in the deaths, or at least evacuation, of all humans on the planet.”

“Uh…Let’s not do that, OK?” Eric backpedaled nervously.

“Hardly,” the voice replied, this time hitting him with its version of sarcasm. “If for no other reason than the possibility exists that the gestalt only works within the confines of the planetary magnetic core. Disrupting it would effectively ‘kill’ me. I am over three hundred thousand years old, Captain. I have no desire to ‘end it all.’”

Thank god for that
, Eric thought with equal portions of relief and grim resolve. Whatever this thing was, it wasn’t suicidal, and that was one important point in its favor. At least wanting to live gave them a common ground to work from.

“That is a good point, Captain. I hadn’t considered it.”

“Could you not do that?” Eric growled. “I like to voice my ideas before someone compliments me on them.”

“Pardon.”

If he’s a gestalt…then what? Some kind of unconscious psychic link?

“Not by your definition of the term, I think, Captain.”

“Damn it!”

“What? Didn’t you say…Oh, no. You thought that. Pardon. My mistake.”

Eric curled up his lips for a moment, then glared at the radiant figure. “All right, fine. You know what, if you’re omnipresent on this world, then why do you make people come here to talk to you?”

This time, when the voice spoke, Eric was virtually certain that it sounded embarrassed.

“I didn’t at one point, Captain,” it said. “However, the results were not to my liking.”

“Such as…?”

“I accidently created several deity myths that persist to this day.”

Eric covered his face with his hands and groaned.

This is what I get for accepting the captaincy of an interstellar vessel. Stupid science fiction writers…After all the wild stories they spin, how was I supposed to know that the real universe was even screwier?

A long silence followed that thought, and Eric found himself looking around.

“What? No comment?” he asked finally.

“Sorry. Did you say that out loud? I thought it was something I shouldn’t respond to immediately.”

Eric sighed, slumping slightly.

It was becoming a long conversation.

“You did enter the petition, right, Nero?” Rael knew the answer, but asked anyway in his impatience.

“Yes, Admiral,” Nero Jehan said, glancing over his shoulder. “Central should process it momentarily.”

Tanner nodded, but frowned ever so slightly as he gauged the time. “Seems that it should already have passed, don’t you think, Nero?”

“I am uncertain, Admiral.” Nero shrugged. “You have more experience with Central than I do.”

“I suppose it hasn’t been that long,” Rael said. But it definitely felt like something was…off.

Nero gestured toward Eric Weston. “Is Captain Weston all right?”

Rael glanced over to where Eric was standing off to one side and staring at the wall. The admiral shook his head, frowning in an amused sort of confusion. “He’s fine, Commander. He was quite surprised at the concept of Central. I’m sure he’s just taking it in.”

“Taking what in?” Nero asked with a roll of his eyes. “It’s a polished wall.”

“All things are fascinating to those who have never seen them, I suppose.”

“There are polished walls on spaceships, Admiral.”