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‘The form’s physical appearance bears a striking similarity to several images found in the historical records of mid-to-late 20
^th
century Earth.’

“What? You’re telling us Metigens visited humans in physical form hundreds of years ago?”

‘Not exactly. In the early decades of space travel a legend of sorts arose, telling of little gray/green men—aliens—who purportedly kidnapped random people and farm animals, performing invasive experiments and occasionally flaying them.’

Her eyes widened. “They flayed people?”

‘No, the farm animals. Cattle, mostly. Or rather, this is what the reports alleged. There is no verifiable evidence any such events, kidnappings or otherwise, in fact occurred. Those claiming to have been abducted were often accused of fabricating the tales or of being mentally disturbed. And as humanity expanded into the Sol system, the reports faded. The last reputed kidnapping happened in 2019.’

Alex sank back on her heels. “People thought aliens flayed cows? Sometimes I wonder how we ever managed to get off the planet.”

‘Actually, your friend Ms. Rossi’s ancestor played a large role in that achievement with her invention of—’

“I was being hyperbolic, Valkyrie.”

‘I know.’

Caleb had been listening with half an ear as he scrutinized the pod’s contents. “The stories make a certain amount of sense.”

“How do they make sense? I refuse to believe the Metigens would abduct people—much less fucking
cows
—when they’re quite well-versed in every aspect of humanity and always have been.”

His head shook. “Yet somehow people got in their heads a very distinct image of aliens—an image that looks a hell of a lot like the body in this stasis chamber here. When we started studying then exploring the stars, what were we searching for, truly? Aliens. So what did they give us?
Aliens.
I doubt they ever abducted a single person—or cow—but they could’ve implanted memories or suggestions during sleep. I imagine it would work similar to how they talk to us, which they can do across tremendous distances.

“They gave us imaginary aliens to fixate on—only it turns out they weren’t so imaginary, because they used the easiest reference point they had: themselves.”

She grimaced in prevarication, but his logic was sound. Insane to anyone who hadn’t met a Metigen, but sound otherwise. “To slow us down in our search for extraterrestrial life?”

“To give us something to fixate on. To give form to the theoretical concept of ‘aliens’…and, yes, perhaps so we wouldn’t search so hard for
other
aliens.”

“Okay, but there haven’t been reports of abductions for three centuries.”

“As we explored the tangible reaches of space, we found we didn’t need aliens so much—the stars themselves provided more than enough to capture our imagination. Also, we became less susceptible to deception—our planetary sensors would detect any such incursions, were they real. So they faded to legend. But they served their purpose at a critical time in human development.”

“Damn. Cunning, manipulative bastards.” She tilted her head, her gaze focusing on the inky, lifeless eyes. “Do you think Mesme’s…in there? Its consciousness, I mean.”

Caleb had shifted to inspecting the pod itself with renewed purpose, clearly trying to figure out how it operated. “I couldn’t even begin to guess. If it’s aware, I’d expect it to have materialized in empyreal form by now. Maybe since it doesn’t have anything pressing to do, it’s hibernating or something.” Finally he sank to the floor beside her. “Whatever this chamber’s constructed of, I’ve never seen it before. I’ve no idea what’s powering it or how. It’s impenetrable and—”

“You were going to open it?”

“No—I don’t want to kill Mesme, obviously. I just wanted to see if I
could
open it. Which I can’t.”

They sat in silence for several minutes, considering the pod with varying expressions of dismay, confusion and contemplation. Finally she sighed to exaggerated effect. “What now?”

“Let’s give it the night.”

Mesme never showed.

Given another day and night to stew, her anger and indignation had transformed into frustration, but one thing she wasn’t going to do was sit around impotently twiddling her thumbs and
waiting
. There was no way to know when the alien might return. It could be an hour, a week, a year…or never.

“So we keep investigating the portal network.”

Caleb rested against the data center and didn’t respond at once. He looked deep enough in thought she expected him to start pacing any second now, but finally he nodded. “I think so. We learned more in the Khokteh universe than in any one before it. We learned the Metigens are intervening in at least some of the pocket universes, and I’d be very interested to discover how they’re intervening in others. Is it solely about playing the role of gods and setting societies against one another, or is there a deeper purpose behind it?”

She drew a hand idly along the back of the couch. “My more reckless inclinations are screaming at me to say screw it all and hit the source portal. But whatever we learned in the Khokteh’s universe, and now finding Mesme gone…I feel like we still don’t understand a goddamn thing. So we shouldn’t go through the source portal.” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “We shouldn’t, right?”

He shook his head, laughing. “Right.”

She nodded a tad ruefully. “I resisted for a long time, but now I really wish Mesme had been here. I want to know what ‘the Conclave’ is, and what or who an ‘Anaden’ is. I want to know why they all name themselves after figures in Greek mythology, even when they’re in universes where the Greeks never existed. I want to know…why the Metigens embolden the worst impulses in otherwise intelligent beings, instigating them to kill one another by the hundreds of thousands, and why they think that is somehow
acceptable
.”

“Hey….” He came over and held her by the shoulders. “We did everything we could. A few months ago you succeeded in saving humanity from genocide, which was no easy feat. Hopefully I saved Akeso from eventual annihilation, and we saved ourselves from the Ruda. So maybe we can’t save every species—not from themselves, anyway. We’re still way ahead by any count.”

She shrugged in his arms. “Shall we go try to save the next one?”

“Maybe the next one won’t need saving. Which, for the record, would be fantastic.”

43

IDRYMA

I
DID NOT THINK TO SEE THE
I
DRYMA AGAIN.

Yet here I was, my consciousness projected into the Conclave council chamber once more. The fact I was not here under pleasant circumstances did not dull my appreciation to have returned. Aurora Thesi had become my abode, but the Idryma remained my home.

The structure, if it could be called such, existed outside the three spatial dimensions physical beings spent most of their time traveling in, though not outside of time. Katasketousya were experts in dimensional manipulation—more adept at it than any species, in fact, save a select few Anaden progenies. Hence the dimensional shifts hiding the Theseis in each Enisle, as well as our clever little singularity bombs.

Here in this quantum space beside and within physical space, the Idryma presented as mirrored symmetries of light waves woven together into the framework of a great hall. Its chambers flowed outward in successive layers, expanding and contracting as needed to serve our—or their, I reminded myself—purposes. If a floor was needed, a floor manifested, and when not needed it existed only as a probability unmeasured.

Ethereal to the point of being unfathomable for most, to me it was more real than the soil on Aurora Thesi.

“You disabled the spatial triggers at the Aurora entry portal.”

I reluctantly focused my awareness concretely upon the council chamber and the Conclave members it held. “I did.”

“You allowed these two Humans to pass through, without seeing fit to inform us.”

I refrained from drifting my attention from Iapetus to Lakhes, not intending to be the one to reveal to the others that Lakhes
was
so informed. “I did.”

“You went against the express orders of the Conclave. Why?”

As operational leader it was Lakhes’ questioning to oversee, yet for now the Praetor appeared to be content permitting Iapetus to grandstand while watching on in seemingly detached interest.

“As I have been expelled from the Conclave, I submit I am no longer subject to its orders. As First Analystae of Aurora, it is and has always been my Enisle, and my responsibility. I believe allowing these Humans to investigate the Mosaic is the proper decision.”

“You have lost your objectivity, to an even greater degree than we realized. Your judgment has been clouded by your affection for Humans.”

“I believe my judgment has never been clearer. I have seen firsthand their potential, their strength of will, in a way you have not.”

Hyperion interjected then. “You have loosed a chaotic, unstable variable into the Mosaic. They will destroy everything.”

“It is a risk. They also may save everything.”

“They must be stopped.”

I caused my presence to ripple and grow discernibly in size. I had been respectful, but this was a manifested threat. Not surprising it would be voiced by Hyperion, but if left unchallenged it may become the will of the weight of the Conclave.

“What do you imagine you will do? You will not kill me. You will not kill them, not with your own consciousness. None of you would dare. Will you conscript more assassins in one of the Enisles you happen to catch them in? It did not work before.”

“They won’t be able to skirt death forever.”

“On the contrary, they’ve shown a propensity for doing precisely this. They’ve eluded death in multiple Enisles thus far. But I would gravely advise against efforts to engineer their demise. Have you forgotten our purpose, Hyperion? Because I believe you have.”

“Never! They wreck our purpose, altering the natural course of Enisles without understanding—”

“Tell me, how are things in Amaranthe? I cannot judge for myself, having been exiled. Are they going well?”

Hyperion paused in a vacillation of light and motion, and Lakhes stepped in with typically smooth grace. “They are not. Since you were last here, Mnemosyne, we’ve been forced to retask Enisle Thirty-Eight as a haven for what Fylliots we were able to smuggle out of Amaranthe.”

“Fylliots—they originated in Eridum II, correct?”

“Yes. Their system was claimed for organic material harvesting, along with three other systems which thankfully were not inhabited by sentient species.”

“How many is that in the last century to be threatened with or suffer extinction? Twenty? Thirty? I know you will not have lost count.”

Lakhes showed a ripple of acknowledgment. “Thirty-three.”

 My directed attention swept across all those present. “Analystarum, the kairos is upon us. We are nearly out of time. I beg you, do not interfere with these Humans. Let them explore, let them learn. Let them show us what they can do, simply because it is their nature. I believe you will come to see what I already know.”

Iapetus ventured back into the discussion. “Even if you are correct, two solitary Humans cannot accomplish what we require of them. What about the remainder of the species?”

Hyperion sputtered out a taunt. “They are making a mess of their freedom, aren’t they?”

I refused to be provoked into agitation. “It is a challenging period for them, yes. But they have seen other challenging periods and emerged from them stronger for the adversity.”

“How can you know they’ll become what we need them to be?”

Lakhes’ mien was as reserved as ever, but the subtleties in the expression of the question begged for a true answer. There was, however, but one true answer I could give.

“I have faith.”

CODA
:

EX
MACHINA

“As he caught his footing, his head fell back, and the Milky Way flowed down inside him with a roar.”

— Yasunari Kawabata

SIYANE

P
ORTAL:
C
-11

L
IKE IN
M
ETIS AND EVERY
pocket universe with a realized space they’d visited, the portal they traversed deposited them in the depths of a nebula. This one was brighter than many had been, shining in vibrant reds and golds.

Now that the Metigens were aware of what they were doing, they’d decided to start mixing up their pattern. They’d previously assigned all the portals unique designations so they could track where they’d been, but from now on they planned to choose their next destination randomly. It wouldn’t prevent the Metigens from tracking the portals they activated, but at a minimum it reduced the chances of an ambush.