Don't Call Me Kitten! Read online

  “Even so.” Shimon paused and wandered over to get a his sand slate. It was a simple tray with shallow sides that held just enough sand so that he could draw patterns, pictures he saw in his mind or practice his writing. The Malakim were averse to using paper for anything impermanent. He placed the sand slate between him and Zex and drew are series of dots with interconnecting lines.

  Zex took a moment to study the picture and mused. “A network. The way you’ve drawn it with a mix of shallow and deeper lines crossing over and under each other hints at something that’s also three dimensional.”

  “Exactly. As you know the dots represent connection points, nodes I think you call them. Those points are important not just because of what they are but by the very fact of what connects with them. And a network like this doesn’t have to be limited by space and time. You are one of these points Zex. You need to be positioned in an exact point in space and time. You also need certain experiences, events and beings to connect with you.”

  The sage child seemed to be quite excited by this but Zex wasn’t getting where this was all heading. “So I’m part of some grand plan and have a role to play?”

  Shimon saddened as he thought of what Zex must face if this was to work. “Yes, but it won’t be easy.”

  “Details?”

  Shimon shook his head. “It would take too long. I can show you though.”

  Zex understood what the boy wanted to do. A direct transmission from mind to mind. He bent his forehead to touch Shimon’s and suddenly their minds were one. The vastness of the other’s near drove him into a white out but Shimon seemed to take control and steered him to what he needed to know. As it decompressed within his own mind he sucked his breath in at the implications of it all. Just as quickly the connection was gone. He sat stunned for a moment staring at Shimon then bowed his head in the dust.

  Shimon gently raised his head and mentally pleaded with him to sit back up. “No Zex, you don’t understand. We are all part of what you just connected with. Yes I am special but so are you. We are all unique expressions of that.”

  Zex sat up but still stared in awe at the boy. “But you are more connected with it than any of us here. Maybe even more than Meta.”

  Shimon just shook his head. “It’s not a competition Zex, I am just as I am. That’s the best any of us can be. But back to matters at hand. You have an important role to play in this. Do you understand that while you will be captured by the enemy and imprisoned for some time your soul can never be imprisoned unless your mind makes it so?”

  Imprisoned for some time. That was an understatement. But yes he had understood and there was no arguing with the wisdom of what he had seen. He nodded his assent. “What of the others.”

  “They cannot know. If this is to work out as it must they cannot be made aware of any of this. Kiana is the only other one who knows what you all face. You must both hide your thoughts. Thex will be furious that we have hidden it all from him but his need to protect his team is too strong.”

  “We?”

  “Mum and Meta know too”.

  “Shit, that must be tough on Meta, knowing what his son goes to.”

  The seriousness written on the boy’s face gave no doubt that it was. “We all have sacrifices to make for this to work Zex. If we win it won’t be just the world or even the dimension you seek to save that will benefit. This will be a tipping point for the whole of creation Zex. We just have to tip things in the right direction.”

  on the outer arm of a remote spiral galaxy...

  Zex sat beside Orea, their communications officer. The appearance of an object on his screen had him suddenly alert with alarm. “Sirs, something just popped up on our screens and its right beside us.”

  Arion was also getting a sensor alarm on his console. “Commander, a movement sensor has picked up something in the cargo hold.”

  Thex’s brow wrinkled in concern, there shouldn’t have been anything moving down there. “Check it out but take the crew with you and take plenty of weapons. I’ll hold the fort here.”

  Zex followed as Arion sent Officer Kiana to scout ahead.

  Kiana returned hurriedly, reporting to Arion “Sir there are Din in there, several. They were still materializing into the hold when I saw them.”

  “Hell.” He split his team into two units, to come at the enemy from two sides. He took a moment to yell into his communicator. “Sir, we’ve been breached, requesting backup.”

  Thex replied through the comms system. “Shit...hold them off a bit longer, I’m coming.”

  Zex thought it would take more than the commander’s presence to sway things in their favor. They were walking into a firefight. The Din were fearsome lizard like beings with brutish lion-like heads and almost impenetrable scales. The way they were tearing into them with tooth and claw they didn’t stand a chance. Zex grimaced as Arion, who was reaching for his comms to warn Thex, was grabbed by a six foot lizard and swung to the ground, knocking him out. Zex fired at the lizard as it bound Arion’s wrists in some kind of weird metal constraint. Their damned weapons were having no effect on these beasts but he kept firing anyway. Didn’t do him much good though. The indifferent beast just matter of factly walked straight up to him and banged some of the same wrist constraints on him too. He tried to teleport away, via the non-local, as he knew the others would be trying to do when they realized their situation was hopeless but for some inexplicable reason he couldn’t.

  They’d caught Thex and forced him to his knees before the leader of the Din.

  Zex took stock of the others who were still conscious. Orea, Kiana, Zex, Trian and Kaleem. That was all. The others all seemed to be dead which shouldn’t be possible, nothing could hurt a Malakim. Their grisly remains had been turned to stone. Zex knew of no weapon in any of the dimensions that could do that. What would happen to the souls of those killed. In theory the Malakim were those two legged beings who had transcended mortality. Their evolution once they were born into their immortal forms, was largely through their own efforts to better understand the universe and their place in it. Each followed his own unique spiritual path to that end. Some moved on to become guardians of planets or other species of life while others, with an even better grasp of the nature of things, became Meta beings, freed from the illusory trappings of the lower dimensions and the physical laws of the universe. No-one at their level knew for sure but it was theorized that the final stage of development culminated in union with something they called the all-spirit. That inexpressible, boundless quality that was far more than any god. It was beyond the gods, being everything that was and wasn’t, everything that had been and might be. Infinite potential. Zex wasn’t sure that even their wisest knew its true purpose for bringing the dimensions into existence. Maybe it was just having fun. Maybe the entity was bored or dreaming or maybe it couldn’t make up its mind between being and not being and had opted to explore all possibilities. Whatever, Zex was no philosopher or sage, he was happy in his role as a diplomat and peace negotiator. He could usually do more good with that. Although looking at their current situation he didn’t think there would be much negotiating today.

  He noticed one Din had grabbed Orea only to have the chief communications officer head butting him. Unfortunately her struggle was cut short when she was shot by stunner. She collapsed at his feet. Fearing she’d just get heartlessly trod on by one of the blundering beasts he managed, even shackled as he was, to discreetly pull her to the side.

  The one who was the enemy’s leader threatened the rest of them. If they spoke they’d have their tongues ripped out and if they resisted they'd be dismembered before they met their fate. Oh my gods. They really were going to turn them all into stone. He had seen it in the vision Shimon had shown him but at the time the sheer horror of it hadn’t completely hit him.

  His heart went out to Thex. The bastards were going to make him watch as each of his crew met their fate, leaving him til last. What must be going through the commander as he watched his
lover and best friend Arion being the first to be placed into position before the weapon. A cold black light surrounded his body and he screamed. When the light disappeared all that remained was a gleaming piece of crystal, a rock the shape of a man, frozen in his scream. Then the beasts were pushing him out the door of the cargo bay, out into space.

  He felt Orea stir at his feet. As best as he could he placed a steadying hand her and sent a stream of thought to her. Sh! Don’t move. They’ve threatened to dismember any of us who resist and I’m pretty damn sure they mean it. It would be better if we got out of this with all our limbs in place. You have to let things go their course. I’ve seen the distant future. Everything will work out.

  Orea didn’t give any further outward sign that she had regained consciousness. Her thoughts, projected to him alone, were her only reply. What do you mean? What have you foreseen?

  I gave my word that I wouldn't tell anyone but some things are pretty obvious from what’s been happening while you were out cold. They have some new fangled weapon that will turn us into stone. The stones are being thrown out into space. They’ve already done it to Arion and they’re doing Kiana as we speak.

  And by what you’re not saying I gather we won’t be able to teleport ourselves out of it?

  No. These cuffs have stopped me. I think some of the others have tried too. The Din must have developed some technology we’re not yet familiar with.

  So how, then, is everything going to turn out okay Zex?

  Because there’s a planet below us. A planet our futures will be inextricably tied with. We will be freed one day Orea. I can tell you that. For now we'll just have to hibernate our souls and bide our time.

  Won’t the stones shatter on impact or burn up in the planet’s atmosphere? And what do you mean by ‘hibernate our souls’? When the hell is this help coming?

  The crystal they are turning us into is impossibly hard. Help won’t come for hundred thousand years or so.

  Shit!

  1

  Nine years ago...

  “Candidate of Science, Helena Ivanova.”

  Spine straight and head held high Helena walked the outdoor podium and accepted her postgraduate degree, equivalent to what would be called a Phd in the West but Russia’s tertiary system was a little different. It was a bittersweet moment. Six years of hard academic work, the last two completing her Kandidat Nauk, Candidate of Science, but otherwise it had been a peaceful and uneventful life. Six years that were now at an end. As she returned to her seat Anya pulled her close to give her a hug.

  “I’m so proud of you Lena.”

  “Thanks Anya. One day we’ll get you up there too and then you can become that vet you want to be.”

  Helena wasn’t averse to being proud of her own achievements. She wasn’t a great fan of false humility. Her research into non-coding DNA had been groundbreaking and ensured her future career. There was an international project to crack the whole human genome which was nearly complete, she’d seen some of the early data. The new computers just out on the market were making the mammoth job proceed a lot quicker than previously thought. At the rate they were going they’d have the whole genome worked out by 2003. Just thinking about the mysteries about to be unlocked excited her in ways only a fellow nerd would understand. She needed to get to the West to really get in the game. Escaping Russia to accept one of the lucrative overseas job offers she’d already received was in the too hard basket for now. As if to accentuate the reason for that difficulty she spied Sergei Kozlov hovering near the hall’s exit. She let out a deep resigned sigh.

  As the graduation ceremony wound up the two sisters circulated for a bit, congratulating Helena’s classmates. Then they went to make their departure. There was only one way out. There was no avoiding the inevitable.

  “The boss wants to see you. 6pm sharp.”

  “One day Sergei, one measly day. Couldn’t you guys have even given me that before you reminded me that you own me.” Helena glared at Mafia thug, wishing glares were as destructive as laser guided missiles.

  Sergei merely shrugged his overly broad shoulders. “Not my call kitten. Be there if you know what’s good for you.”

  “I’ll be there. And Sergei...”

  Sergei raised a brow and paused, waiting.

  “Don’t call me kitten!”

  Sergei chuckled and then turned and disappeared into the departing crowd.

  Somewhere in Bolivia...

  Could a crystal itch? Zex had hibernated his soul for many thousands of years. Trapped in stone there had been little point stewing on his situation. He’d gone into this knowing he’d have a long wait but something told him the waiting was nearly over. About ten thousand years ago he’d felt the first urge to wake up. Since that time he’d learnt to fly, astrally at least. Because his body was frozen in immensely hard sama crystal he only had his consciousness to work with.

  Over time he’d developed the soul form of a condor that he could project outwards from the stone. His dreams between waking, if you could call them dreams, had shown him the creature. The real creature had all sorts of advantages going for it. It was immensely strong, capable of traveling great distances without effort. Soaring on updrafts high above the Andes. It was a ubiquitous part of the south American landscape, no one locally really gave it a second glance, unless they had baby llamas. So he’d learnt to shapeshift his soul into its form. It had taken time. Like juggling, it took time to rewire the consciousness to what was required. He’d started out by simply getting a clear picture of the creature in his head. Its habits, its calls and its way of flying with wings outstretched horizontally, its primary feathers bent upwards at the tips.

  He’d never had a need to astral travel before but like all Malakim he knew the basic theory. Once he had the image of the Andean Condor fixed in his mind he practised achieving an hypnotic state or at least visualizing that his crystal frozen body was in one. Having perfected that he visualized his body as if it was his condor. Then he started pretending he was moving, first just retracting his claws, then stretching out his make believe wings. This took what seemed like many years of practice but he had nothing better to do. The task kept him from getting morbid about his situation.

  When he finally worked up to taking his first flight it was like being reborn. Joy washed through his consciousness as he floated high on his first updraft.

  Zex started to use his astral projecting to watch the Andean peoples as they developed, civilizations blossoming in the jungle and then disappearing as war, famine and the encroaching jungle inevitably brought them back to hunting and gathering. While he was learning astral projecting the people he watched over were practising city-states. He watched them make mistakes then try again. After each destruction they would recover, their civilization cycling ever upwards to a new level of sophistication. The great Tiwanakan culture blossomed for a while. Replaced in time by the Incas whose farming practices and metallurgy were light years of anything he’d seen before or since. They grew a vast empire, attempting to swallow-up the neighbouring tribes and convert them to their ways. Yet they never truly conquered the people of the lowlands.

  Then the Conquistadors had come and he mourned for his people. For by now their history and trials were etched in his soul. They were his people.

  He’d taken to guiding their shamans as best he could, using his condor spirit form to send them omens. But while the shamans might have been the wisest of his adopted people, the politicians and warriors didn’t always take their advice. He’d had to watch while all they had built up was reduced to rubble, their writings and culture trashed and the people enslaved.

  Yet even after this, the greatest of destructions, his people started to recover again, first as revolutionaries and then as leaders capable of guiding his people. And while the conquest had all but utterly annihilated the past it did bring new ways that cross fertilized with the old. His people were becoming stronger now and starting to find their voice on the international stage.r />
  Curiosity had him venturing further in his soul flights. The world was becoming a very interesting place and this was the only way he could experience it. The thought came to him to try and see if he could teleport his condor to different locations. In their usual form the Malakim could do this no sweat. They called it non-local travel. They would dissolve their form in the relative dimension, travel via the absolute or non-local and then reform in the relative world at their chosen destination. He had no idea whether it would work with just his soul or even whether it would harm his trapped body but the temptation was too great. He just had to give it a go. He focused on the image of a place he’d seen in his dreaming consciousness, let go of his identification with his current form, drifted though the absolute and then came out the other side. Much to his delight there he was. Well sort of. His first few attempts only had him appearing in some poor girl’s mirror as little more than a projected reflection but it was a start. He still itched when he did it though, although maybe it was something more halfway between an itch and a buzz that vibrated through his soul. Not being a scientist he could only theorize that something in what he was doing was giving off an electrical voltage and that was causing the crystal to ever so subtly vibrate.

  The girl he’d seen that first time had intrigued him. She had seemed deadly serious, as if her very survival was at stake. Then there was the fact that she was an unparalleled beauty. He hadn’t known the inhabitants of the planet came in that colouring. All the locals he was familiar with were shorter in stature with bronzed complexions and even darker eyes. This girl was tall, wiry and had the palest hair he’d ever seen, offset by eyes the color of the sky.