In Flux

Good evening everybody, or morning depending on where in our vast wondrous world you are. As I mentioned the other day, I had planned to share some more of the story NOVA that I have started writing. The reason I didn't is because... well simply because you don't have a clue if people like what your posting/writing. Don't get me wrong, I did NOT post my story to seek gratification, I just wanted to share it with you all. I guess paranoia kicks in and you wonder what people think of it, for all I know you could all think it's shit, but then again you may like it... who knows, not me. I have decided that I will publish NOVA as a short story once it's finished and heavily revised (remember it's the very first draft), hopefully it'll be free for ebook. I did however design an awesome cover for it so it'll probably be available in print as well. Anyway there'll be no ranting to day, I hope you enjoy it.

C.S (Song of the day: The Matthew Effect by Nothing More)

In Flux

The Catalyst with it’s supreme power has the ability to condense matter, transport it and then reintegrate it once it’s reached its destination. Osiris Catal, the great inventor built it at the age of seven hundred, causing him to pre-emptively gain ancestor status; the youngest in our history. His grand design gave us access to the entire universe and in the beginning we explored the depths of space with great aplomb. It was only when our explorers discovered the Unknown, that our exploration ceased. One hundred men and women travelled to the Unknown and one only returned.

Moira Bastarian returned eyeless, soulless and broken. From her life chamber, she informed the council of this backwards universe. Our implants tell us that she described it as a darkness without light, with other-worldly beings whose only purpose was to torture and kill. These creatures from the dark chose her immediately and made her to watch the slaughter of the ninety nine.

Even without eyes Moira suffered from visions of her unwanted experience, leading her to effectively take her own life. Moira used her own nails to rip out the veins in her arms. As her body was discovered, the Unknown was considered off limits and the Catalyst’s use was to be minimal. From then on, it was mainly used to exile criminals, including Drataan who was banished to the Unknown.

When he found the means to return however, our civilisation found itself curious… Too curious for it’s own good.

It’s quite difficult to describe the experience of travelling trough the Catalyst, effectively broken down to atoms, you don’t experience anything… but the feeling of re-materialising is a somewhat strange one. It feels as though your in a state of digital consciousness, waiting for your body to reload itself. As my eyes reopen I am blinded by the light and I find myself on my knees gasping for air. ‘Annai’ I mutter, but to no reply. I rise to my unsteady feet and once again attempt to open my eyes shielding my gaze with the palm of my hand.  

I see a barrage of colours, greens, blues and whites but my vision remains blurry. I stumble forward and trip over something causing me to fall. Lying on my front, my vision is becoming frequently more efficient, the colours are starting to separate so I close my eyes and lie still for a few moments.

The next time my eyelids rise it would appear that I had fallen into a state of resting. My vision appears clear and I am in a field of some sort. The green grass, blues skies and white clouds appear beautiful. I know not where I am, but this is not home. There are no fires, no screams of agony, no blood stained floors. It would appear I am on a world I do not know.

As I rise to my feet, I still feel tremendously light headed. On the positive side, my suspension guards have released their grip and disintegrated into the ground. I sense my gift returning and it feels incredibly satisfying. At twenty three my gifts are still developing… In my fathers logs, he explained to me that I had the gift of control. Unfortunately he didn’t go into specifics… From what I’ve experienced, I can move anything I want with my mind but that’s all I know. The gift of control is never given to newborns, it’s a dead gift. One of the few implants we know nothing about but my father in his defiance obviously felt I could utilise it. He felt that it has an unrivalled potential, something I have not learned to exploit at this stage in my existence.

Over to my left I can just make out a primitive looking structure, I decide I’m going to make my way towards it and investigate as to where I am. I’ve never had the opportunity to leave Nova, though my knowledge of the universe is vast. As I make my way through the field, my battered hands caress the grass, it feels so soft yet prickly at the tips; I have no memory of such luxuries on my home world.

Just as I’m approaching the structure, a bright light appears to my right, it’s another of the banished. I wait patiently for the matter to re-materialise, even with our advanced techniques in matter acceleration, it still takes a few moments.

As the figure appears, he drops to his news and I keep my distance. Once the process is complete, I move in closer and help the other out cast to his feet. I do not know this man, but I recognise him from our crowd. He’s slightly older than myself, standing at 6.2” and quite stocky with short brown hair and a finely trimmed beard, I walk him towards the structure. I use my one free hand and use my gift to rip open the heavy red doors from this place of hopeful solace. Inside, it appears to be some sort of out house built for animals of some kind. The large bearing wood planks hold this structure in place and the floor is littered with a yellow straw like substance. We move towards a clump of this straw and I place him down to rest, taking a seat on the floor myself.

‘Where are we?’ asks my fellow survivor as he rubs his eyes. ’I do not know, we appear to be safe here.’

‘Who are you?’

‘I am Osias Valkarian, what are you named?’

He opens his bloodshot brown eyes and looks in my direction ’I am Troy Catal, you are the son of Obadiah Valkarian?’

‘That is correct, and you the son of Osiris Catal. It would appear our fathers reputations are more prominent than our own.’

‘Indeed.’

Troy leans his arm against the wooden makeshift wall and stands up straight and proceeds to stretch. ’What is your gift?’ I ask. ’I have the gift of creation, and you?’

‘I have the gift of control.’

‘Really? I thought that was a dead gift?’

‘I am the only one. My father believed it had the potential to evolve into something more.’

‘Well it didn’t win us the war.’

‘No, it didn’t.’

I ignore his condescending comment, though slander like that, we would not tolerate back home. Our gifts are unique and we keep them with pride. It is written, that if anyone is to frown upon your gift, you have just cause to slaughter them were they stand. However we are not on Nova now and we need to stick together.

‘Do you have a plan son of Valkarian?’

‘I do not. Let us rest for the moment. Where do you believe we are?’

‘It is unclear to myself but my family held good ties with judge Tyrainius, he would not willingly send us into harms way.’

‘As was mine, so we can assume we are safe for now.’

Troy begins to strafe up and down ’we can’t stay here, we need to find the others and get home.’

‘Do you know where they are? And how exactly do you propose we do that? Also you seem to have forgotten we have been exiled.’

‘I will not stand by whilst we do nothing! I can build a Catalyst to take us back!’

‘Remain calm, I don’t expect us to do nothing but what you’re suggesting is certain death.’

‘You, are weak and do not deserve your gift! You have the power of control and you squander it in weakness! Your defeatist attitude is the reason we fell.’

‘Mind your words son of Catal, we may not be on Nova but I will have no qualms reducing you to your most basic elements.’

‘Well act then! We need to find the others, the longer we wait the more people die.’

As my temperament to end his life increases, I feel his pain in being helpless ’do you have a family?’

‘Yes, I have a life partner and town newborns.’

‘I’m sorry you are apart from them.’ Troy squats down to the ground and looks at myself with genuine sadness ’so am I.’

I head out side and take a breathe of this worlds air, it feels phenomenal but after years of breathing in the smoke and sulphur, anything other than that is more pleasurable. A splash of liquid hits my forehead and I run back inside ’what’s wrong? Asks Troy. ’There appears to be some sort of liquid falling from the sky.’

Troy heads to the open door and lets one of the droplets hit his finger, he then places his finger in his mouth ’pH balance of 5.4, I’m sensing heavy acidic qualities in the form of H2SO4 and HNO3... It’s harmless.’

‘Good, you really are the scientist.’

‘I am. Listen, I am apologetic for lashing out. If we find the necessary components, I can build a device to track down the others.’

‘It’s already forgotten (it isn’t really), that sounds like a plan. There’s another structure, to the east. We should check there.’

‘What are we waiting for then, lets go’ concludes Troy.

We head out to the close by structure, it would appear to be a housing quarter of the primitive kind, completely over-sized and inefficient. We enter the house and it’s disgusting, littered with utensils and utilities, the walls cover with images of others and decorated in an awful fashion. We enter a room which appears to be some sort of cooking area and Troy routes through the wooden cabinets ‘anything of use?’ I ask with a degree of hope. ‘Yes, I believe so.’ ‘Suddenly a voice shouts loudly from behind our positions ‘Turn around fuckers before I blow your brains out!’ We turn around and there stands an elder, with black ever greying hair, aging skin, wearing some sort of eye device and over the maximum allowed weight. ‘We mean you know harm, we require utilities to build an infinite tracker’ the now calmly spoken Troy tells the elder. ’Get out of my house before I phone the police!’ Shouts the elderly female who appears to be holding some sort of oblong projectile device. ‘We are not from this place and we require your assistance elder.’ The aging female takes a step towards us with her primitive weapon ’You’ve got thirty seconds to get out of my house fuckers!’

I look over at Troy ’we don’t have the necessary time for this encounter son of Catal.’

‘Agreed.’

‘I extend my apologetic nature to you aging female.’ My veins flash black and I feel the power of my gift surging through my body. I clench my fist and the projectile flings out of the elders hands onto the floor. I lift up my arm and this unhelpful female rises from the ground. Taking a step forward, her body shifts backwards. I lead her into the joining room and place her down on some sort of set made of tacky flowery material.  ‘Please remain here and we will be gone shortly.’ The elder seems to be in a state of shock and simply nods her head. ‘I extend my gratitude to you and I apologise for any distress we have caused.’

Back in the cooking compartment Troy is tinkering away ‘how long will it take?’ I ask with slight concern that the elder female in the other room will not comply with my warning. ‘I’m done.’

‘That’s impressive, how does it work?’

‘It tracks down the signal given out by the use of our gifts… I’ve already picked up a signal.’

‘Really? How far away?’ I ask secretly hoping that it belongs to Annai.

‘We have a journey ahead of us, we should move now.’

‘I agree but perhaps we would go unnoticed if we changed our attire?’

‘Good idea, ask the elder if she houses a change for us.’

I head back into the other room where the female is still sat nervously ‘we are leaving now, we appreciate your assistance but do you have a change of attire for us?’

‘My husband and son have their clothes upstairs… take whatever you want, just please don’t hurt me.’

‘I do not desire to hurt you, we just require your help. We shall be gone shortly.’

Troy and I search thoroughly upstairs until we find some fitting clothes, they’re awful. Once clothed to fit in with our new environment, we head out of this “house” and set of to find another one of our kind, another paragon.