Ravens of Eternity

328 Change

Kali walked around Amal’s lab, and was filled with wonder as she looked at the various plants that were growing along the antigrav planters floating alongside a wall. She didn’t just look, but she also touched them, and smelled them.

She felt a deep human relief from doing those simple acts. Something about being around them made her feel lighter, calmer.

But she wasn’t here for the plants. She was here for other reasons.

“How’re you holding up?” Kali asked. “I noticed you’ve been acting a little different since that Earth Call a few cycles ago.”

“I’m fine,” Amal replied.

She was in the center of her lab, in front of the central standing terminal. There, she was attempting to combine various refined extracts together in an attempt to reengineer more potent medicines.

But found her concentration was lacking, and simply couldn’t do anything properly. Amal uttered a light curse in Arabic, out of utter frustration.

“Fine. Mhm. Right,” Kali replied. “I noticed that Raijin was affected too. And you clearly can’t seem to do what it is you’re wanting to do...”

Kali paused for a few moments, to give Amal the time to respond. But she didn’t. She stood silently in front of her terminal with her lips pursed. Though she was right in front of it, her eyes seemed to look past it, through the semi translucent screen and out to a distance Kali couldn’t see.

.....

So she instead continued talking.

“It definitely affected me,” she began. “That whole baby thing was a real revelation, lemme tell you. Never knew we started out so small. So weak. So fragile. And so ugly.

“Anyway, like Xylo and Claire, I don’t really remember being that young. But then again, I was vat-born from the beginning, out of someone else’s genetic makeup. Someone I never knew...

“But yeah, still the same as the others. No memory of anything from younger than 5. Earliest age I remember is-”

Kali shuddered at the memory of her ‘father’, Dareon. At his imposing demeanor, his controlling nature. And his animalistic lust.

A wave of weakness swept over her, and leaned up on a pillar for support.

Amal was at her side almost immediately, held her by the waist, then led her towards a nearby chair. Kali was immediately filled with relief, along with a feeling of safety, of companionship.

And found that leaning on Amal felt incredibly natural, equally as natural as the scents on the flowers.

“You’re one to ask if I’m alright,” Amal said as she gently placed Kali in the chair.

She then bent down until they were eye level to each other, then she began her physical examination. Just like doctors of old, she took Kali’s pulse with her fingers, checked her eyesight with her own, and so forth.

When she was satisfied with what she saw, she pulled out her medgun and performed a more in-depth scan. As always, she found nothing wrong. Not physically, anyway.

Despite how well any of them seemed, at least from a medical standpoint, there was always still something broken deep inside. Things that pharmaceuticals could never fix.

“We oughta get a counselor to join your ship,” Kali said after a while. “Someone who can help us all deal with what we’re all going through. Some of my boys get real fearful sometimes after fighting, and I don’t really know how to help ’em.”

“I’ve heard similar from Freya and Xylo,” Amal replied. “And I agree. We need better methods of care, more than what I’m capable of giving.”

“Hey, you give a whole lot.”

“Ah, I just mean that I can only do so much. I only know so much, and I just can’t take care of everything. But I would, if I could.”

Amal stood back up and put away her medgun. There was nothing it could do to help right now. Then she leaned up on the workbench next to them and let out a deep sigh.

“I’ve been thinking about the wolves,” she continued. “And a bit about what Mathilde told us. But mainly that maybe they could help us. There were these things back on Earth, we called them Therapy Animals, and maybe the wolves could help us out, in a similar way.”

Kali’s eyes bugged out slightly on hearing that.

“You all had telepathic animals back in those days?” she exclaimed.

Amal simply chuckled. She wished!

“Nono, nothing like that,” she mused. “Or maybe they were, I don’t know. But they kinda help patients, like you, become calmer, more at ease. Just by their presence, or by touch, by smell.

“I remember seeing a man being comforted by some kind of donkey when I was younger. It was so strange to me. But the man started crying and hugged back. Like that bond they had opened up something inside. And maybe healed it to some degree.”

“So you’re planning to give death dealing shapeshifter wolves a job,” Kali said, “as cuddle buddies for the fleet.”

They both laughed lightly – the image of those fearsome looking wolves with their bellies up and tongues lolling was too cute.

“Pretty much, yeah,” Amal replied. “Honestly, it’ll help the wolves, too. You heard what they said, about their pack, about why they wanted asylum.”

Kali nodded in understanding, perhaps more than anyone else.

The wolves that sought asylum only asked for it because they recognized their own bloodlust within themselves. And they feared it would infect the others, or through natural descendants.

And so exiled themselves to keep the rest from being corrupted by them.

Silence filled the room as the two of them thought about the wolves’ plight. And why not a single one of them could turn them away.

“And you’re right by the way,” Amal continued. “Raijin and I – something hit us at the same time during that call. Something that Freya had been feeling for years, but we didn’t really get.”

Her body slumped slightly, as though something heavy was weighing her down. This time it was Kali’s turn to leap to her side to support her. Though in the end, they simply leaned on each other.

Amal placed her head on Kali’s shoulder, who leaned her head on Amal’s. The two of them then heard each other breathing, along with the pumping of their hearts. It only took a moment for them to sync up.

“My parents are going to die,” Amal said, slowly and carefully and as truthfully as she could. “We’re watching them grow older, and become weaker. And one day, they’ll simply stop being there. All they’ll be is a long gone memory, both sad and far.”

She lifted her head up and turned to look at Kali, deep in her eyes.

“Raijin’s parents will die, too. Mack and his wife, Beth. And their baby we saw. We’ll end up watching them live and grow and age and die. For a very, very long time. And not just them. Xylo and Claire. Their children. Their children’s children.

“You see what I mean? Our path is paved with blood and tears, forever.”

A tear rolled out of her eye, which Kali caught with a gentle wipe. She then reached down and took Amal’s hand. Their fingers curled up and intertwined.

“It doesn’t always have to be,” Kali replied. “It can have flowers, too.”

Then, she leaned over and kissed Amal lightly on the lips.

Though it was brief, it seemed an eternal moment to the both of them. A bit akin to rolling in the grass and feeling the loam of the earth beneath, and soaking in the rawness of life.

And after the moment washed over the both of them, Amal smiled lightly. She gave Kali a quick peck back, then returned her head to Kali’s shoulder.

“I’m definitely deeply worried about Raijin,” she said. “She asked for my help on something. I couldn’t refuse.”

~

“You’re absolutely sure about this?” Amal asked, concern etched deep in her voice.

She stood next to Miko in her lab, in front of one of her antigrav fields. Inside of it was a vast swarm of nanites swirling around. They were so numerous that they were visible to the naked eye, which made them seem as though they were storm clouds brewing.

It didn’t help that multiple arcs of electricity danced up and down the cloud, even as it twirled.

“Amarok asked me if I had an idea for a kill-switch,” Miko replied. “Which I do, but it needs to be tested first. And I would never test on them, ever. So I must volunteer myself.”

“This isn’t about the wolves, and you know it,” Amal retorted. “You’ve been working on this design for months now! Which means you’ve been thinking about some kind of... of suicide program thing... for how long?”

Miko turned toward her with a quizzical look on her face.

“Are you prepared to live a life in which no universe exists around you?” she said. “Or one that is filled with constant warfare or chaos? Or one where a government decides to take your body, and study its genetics for their gain?

“We are immortal, Azrael. Like those wolves, many want us because of what we are capable of. Imagine being imprisoned, being experimented on for the rest of eternity. We would go mad.

“And we are not the only ones to hold this kind of fear.”

Amal was immediately taken aback. She never thought of it like that. It dawned on her that most of the fleet was unique in their own way. Refugees with immortal lifespans, synthetics with hyper-augmented genetics, shapeshifting wolves, to name a few.

“Knowing that,” Miko continued, “then this once selfish technology should now be unshelved, now that it has a wider use. For the greater good of the fleet, or for the mitigation of our collective worst-case scenario, if you prefer.”

“But is this the answer?” asked Amal. “Honestly?”

Miko didn’t have a direct answer to that. Instead, a few moments of silence lingered between them.

“What did you see during our call with our parents?” Miko said after some time. “I saw they were old. And dying. I saw a child only days from birth. Also already dying.

“But before that, I saw how you and Kali have been growing closer. I saw how Freya and Lucifer turned into birds and flew in the air. I see all of these things that I can never have.”

Miko looked at her hands, frustrated at their limitations. At how small they were. How small they were going to be, if she didn’t do something about it.

“I refuse to accept that,” she said quietly.

Miko then turned back towards her nanite swarm, and took a step forward.

“What if you die?” Amal pleaded.

The question gave Miko pause, but not for the reason Amal implied. She didn’t exactly fear the end. Logically speaking, she would feel nothing. She would simply cease.

“What if I never die?” she retorted.

Then she walked into the cloud, and merged with it.