[This is a chapter from my latest novel, a sequel to The Fall of Doc Future and Skybreaker’s Call. The start is here, and links to my other work here. It can be read on its own, but contains spoilers for those two books. I post new chapters about every two weeks, and the next chapter is planned for around January 19th.]

Previous: Chapter 16

Alep watched the outer layers of the condensed sphere gradually heat and expand, as they absorbed the energy from Baht’s repeated passes across the surface. The local life was probably already gone, but she was finishing the test to provide an accurate baseline.

It wasn’t a particularly profligate process, or noisy outside this worldline. It just took a long time. While Alep observed, Gem was doing a detailed re-analysis of the data they had gathered since crossing the first domain wall into the Fading Zone proper, looking for signs of more normal life.

Gem indicated completion.

<Anything?> asked Alep.

<No. No signals, no evidence of stellar engineering. No signs of civilization. The Homewells are silent.>

<Not unexpected. The physical parameters here are too different–we could not long endure without our topology stabilizers, or some other form of adaption. But it had to be checked.>

<Yes.> Gem seemed troubled.

<You have a further concern?>

<I do. What struck me was just how old some of these universes are, and never reshaped. Yet they have life.>

Alep tasted his conclusion stream. <Indeed. Slow, sparse, cold, and fragile, like everything here, but life nonetheless. And parasites, which confirm the potential for intelligence and civilization, even though we haven’t seen any yet.>

<I wonder if some of it might have developed in other Zones, given enough time.>

<Unlikely. In the trillions of cycles it would take, someone would have come along and disassembled these wasteful precursor stars and mist worlds. Matter for Homewells and extended structures, or low-entropy fuel for those without easy differential vacuum access.>

<I know. They could never arise in the presence of our kind of civilization. But–>

<Done!> signaled Baht triumphantly, interrupting Gem’s musings.

Alep returned his attention to the world, which was now glowing more strongly with heat than it ever had from the weak light of its feeble precursor star.

<You didn’t get all the parasites in the locally connected subspaces,> said Gem, as Baht rejoined them. <Some will survive.>

<Immaterial,> said Baht. <The point wasn’t to kill parasites, but to test large scale clearance methods. All the local connection points are now gone–this worldline could no longer function as an anchor and parasite haven, if it had ever been one.>

Alep indicated agreement. <Indeed. Any surprises?>

<Not really. There were a few unusual resonances in the induced fusion, and my topology stabilizer output spiked whenever I broke a connection point, but I expected that. And I could have safely cleared it quite a bit faster–there was plenty of matter for entropy dumping, I just had to extend the field to the limit because the density was so low.>

<Well done. Are we ready to proceed?>

<Yes,> said Baht. <We’ve taken far too long already.>

<We knew this expedition would be time consuming before we started,> said Gem. <I’d be more concerned about the domain wall synchronization shifts that will be necessary for causality safety on the way back. Explorer was right.>

<How so? She thought her probe was still on its way back, after all that time.>

<It could have been. Some of the other Powers owe her apologies. She went into mourning for the right reason–not for the probe, or her Aspect, but for the lost data. This would go so much faster with accurate topology maps.>

<Granted. But the probe’s level of adaptability was always a risk. I think her Aspect grew too alien, and lost focus, and that’s how she was trapped.>

<Explorer was never careless,> said Alep. <But after long enough with no real threats, I can see her Aspect falling prey to complacency.>

He focused his will, so the command was clear. <We won’t. Anchors and stabilizers up, and let’s go.>

*****

Threshold reached for non-emergency start. Safety interlocks on. Initialization begun.

Boot priority sequence override, reading from low speed interface.

Waiting… Timeout. Restarting, no priority action needed.

…

Waiting… Low speed interface buffer loaded. Timeout reset. Hazard detection and avoidance loop set. Waiting on buffer refresh. Estimated completion time: 1,897,000,000 cycles.

Waiting…

Flicker opened her eyes, and touched the control that started the heaters and pumps for her shower by reflex. Then she lay back and stared at the ceiling, while her human brain slowly transferred essentials to her high speed memory, which decayed to unusability whenever she slept.

Waking up was never simple. It could be fast, when it had to be, but that wasn’t the same thing at all.

Stella and DASI had helped her revise the process after her last breakdown. Flicker had never tried that before, because the high-speed part of her mind wasn’t the bottleneck–that would be her squishy, normal-space human brain–and mucking around in what amounted to her cybernetic subconscious was neither comfortable nor safe.

But it had been overdue.

Donner’s Song of Unbinding had made that clear. He’d suggested it at a time when he thought she’d been mind controlled by Stella, and she’d agreed because a careful self-check revealed something was biasing her perceptions. The results had been traumatic, and very nearly catastrophic.

The Song worked like a hardware reset for the mind. It got rid of all outside control and possession, but it was disruptive, even for normal humans. For Flicker, it had removed the blind spots induced by the Wanderer and the self-doubt amplification the Trickster had used to keep her marginally under control until age nine.

And all the safety bindings her mother had put in so Flicker had a chance to grow up at all.

Both parts of her mind had been disorganized, but the fast one had recovered first–with blank working memory, the defaults set by the previous inhabitant, and some seriously wrong axioms about who and what she was.

It had proceeded to attempt to reconstruct her personality from the scattered but now unblocked memories in her human mind, based on the belief that she was Skybreaker, an incarnation grown by an interdimensional traveler bound by the locals before she could complete her now-lost purpose–which she’d assumed had something to do with eliminating the profusion of ‘parasites’ on and around Earth.

A parasite seemed to be any being capable of interdimensional travel that left a dying timeline to try to find somewhere else it could survive, or any of the descendants of the ones that could reproduce. Which meant essentially everything Doc would call an extradimensional entity, pseudo-mythological or otherwise, except Skybreaker herself.

Quite apart from the damage she’d done, her memories and attitudes had been very disturbing to Flicker, after her human self had recovered enough to reassert control. At least they’d motivated her to reexamine her own attitudes towards 'demons’. She’d also been rather upset by Skybreaker’s casual dismissal of all the humans that would die if she’d been able to complete her plan to eliminate the parasites.

Which was one of several reasons Flicker didn’t like the name, and only grudgingly accepted it as a title.

But putting off doing a proper job of reconfiguring the two parts of her mind, in place of the quick patch she’d put in at the time, had helped leave her vulnerable to her later breakdown. She’d managed to avoid hurting anyone–the patch assured she retained her identity–but it had been unpleasant, time consuming, and inconvenient, for herself and others.

And could well have ended her recently renewed friendship with Journeyman, if he hadn’t been rather more understanding than she’d had any right to expect.

So now she put up with a slightly longer wait whenever she woke up, and an internal highlights vid of everything recent that she’d rather not think about, rather than just stuffing everything into high speed memory as fast as she could. That was the price she paid to assure the interface between her high speed mind and her human one stayed safe, and was no longer an aid to self-deception.

The ready alert flashed, and she moved into the shower. The hot, high pressure water was a familiar part of routine, and helped her finish the process of waking up–even if Journeyman had once described it as a 'waterjet cutter array for a psychotic octopus machinist’. To be fair to him, he’d still been asleep when she turned it on, and she’d never considered how loud it sounded from the bedroom, because she was never in the bedroom when it was on.

Shower finished, she just needed some caffeine to be ready to emulate a human as well as she ever did. She had a long list of tricky social tasks waiting, but they weren’t going to go away if she delayed, and she would have help and moral support.

Time to start her day.

Flicker had gone back to using the portal room at Doc’s HQ for primary access to the Nine Worlds and Kyrjaheim, with her own as backup, as soon as enough of the repairs were finished after the battle with the Xelian fleet. Doc’s place was more convenient for travel elsewhere on Earth, and it was much quicker for Flicker to get there than for everyone else to travel from her home.

It also already had housing for the einherjar, and better infrastructure.

Flicker ate breakfast in the kitchen nook of the ready room for the portal, while listening to Osk.

Osk had finally returned from Tokyo about an hour ago, having carried out all Flicker’s instructions. Especially, it seemed, the one about having fun. DASI’s summary had been interesting, but raised a few questions. She wondered if this was what Doc had felt like, waiting to hear her side of the story about some incidents when she was growing up.

“Okay,” said Flicker, after taking a drink from her breakfast soda. "Let’s see if I’ve got this right. You returned Firefist without incident, spoke with Hideki, and brushed up on the guidelines for visitors. Then you got lucky finding kaiju early the next morning, and helped fight two of them, knocking one through a building under construction, and the other into a container ship, causing a lot of damage.“

"Yes,” said Osk. She had her feet up on the far bench, and leaned back at ease, looking none the worse for wear after an eventful day and night with no sleep. "I was assured this was acceptable and even customary, as long as no humans were injured. I could have ended one threat more quickly with a spear through the eye into the brain, but others were unhappy when I suggested it. It is not traditional to kill the beasts, if no humans are at risk.“

"That’s true. And they have a special fund that pays for the damage. I tend to stay away from those fights, because they’re so time consuming.”

“They were very invigorating.” Osk smiled. "And I made many new friends.“

"I’ll bet. Then you decided to hold an… impromptu sex education class for teenage superheroes?”

“I did. Several of them revealed ignorance dangerous for anyone with power–they have been ill-served by those who teach them. I could not but do my best to help.”

“Well, I’m about the last person who has a right to object to that. They have a messed up social system with a double standard, just like here. But it sounds like someone had a problem with it?”

Osk snorted. "An adult man claiming to be a hero called Silver Sword intruded uninvited. He did not speak to me at first, but rather sought to shame some of the younger girls, who felt unable to respond because of custom. I took exception on their behalf, and the exchange grew heated.“

Flicker reread DASI’s description. "So he challenged you to the duel?”

“Yes. He refused to back down when given the opportunity to do so gracefully, so I flyted with him until he overcame his claimed reluctance to fight a woman. He wished it to be to the death, but I told him I would settle for disabling him.”

“And that’s why he’s in the hospital?”

“I judged a broken leg, a broken arm, and a spear through the other shoulder would be sufficient to make my point clear, and they were. He was far too confident in his armor and did not guard the joints. But he refused my offer to heal him afterwards, which I found surprising for one with such low tolerance for pain.”

“He was probably trying to salvage his 'honor’, not getting that he’d blown it all already.”

Osk shook her head. "I was disappointed–I had higher expectations of his battle prowess, if not his wit or goodwill. He would not have lasted a week as an einherjar.“

"I’ll take your word for it,” said Flicker. "DASI says Silver Sword was known as a jerk, and the news reports seem to be focusing on the fact that you were defending a student–that’s a big deal there. And it looks like Hideki is preventing any political fallout. I should send him another thank you note. But that’s not what you’re worried about.“

"No.” Osk looked briefly regretful. "My new young friends invited me to partake of their customs, afterward, and we went to a place with a machine to aid singing.“

"Karaoke.”

“Yes, that is the word. I was not familiar with it, so I asked to go last. The convention appeared to be to sing with enthusiasm, whatever one’s expertise. I knew none of the songs, so I chose one I thought Bjarni might have liked, and sang that.”

Osk met Flicker’s eyes. "I did not disobey Eyetaker’s decree when I sang. But all who heard reacted so strongly that I felt it prudent to calm everyone, afterward. They dismissed it as a brief entrancement, quickly broken, which was fortunate. I thanked them for a fine and wonderful visit, and returned.“

"And that’s why you want to talk to Donner.”

“He knows best, of all on this world, the hazards of songs of power, does he not? But I thought it both polite and wise to ask your leave first.”

“Um. Okay. Thank you for that,” said Flicker. "I’ll talk to him and see if has time in his schedule. And I’ll ask Yiskah about her restrictions–they seem to be giving you more trouble than anyone else.“

"Thank you,” said Osk. She smiled again, and the room seemed to brighten.

Flicker looked at her for a moment. "Osk? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, and I know you and the others have been avoiding stuff that might reopen old conflicts, but can I ask a personal question?“

"Of course.”

“My mother has the form, the… Stella calls it the archetype, of a love goddess. But she sure doesn’t act like one. You do. And you were around before she was. Why aren’t you the love goddess, instead of her?”

“Ah.” Osk looked off into the distance somewhere past the far wall. "Understand, the words we use so glibly can be treacherous, here. Eirik has warned of it, and he is right. What does 'love goddess’ mean? To me it was a mantle. A role assumed, and the power and obligation that go with it.

Osk looked back at Flicker. "I was offered such a role long before your mother came to our world. I refused it.“

"Why?”

“I did not wish to be the Wanderer’s wife.”

“Oh. That’s a good reason.”

“Indeed. I could have tried to take the role anyway, but that would have provoked a conflict in which many I cared about would surely have perished, even if I prevailed. Or taken it and departed from the Nine Worlds–but again, leaving behind others.”

“The power and role were not that important to me. So I chose, I Chose, to remain a Chooser. And the Norns warned the Wanderer against retaliation.”

Osk looked toward the doorway to the portal room. "Jarna, I think, had no great desire to be a love goddess. But the sources of power the Wanderer used did not let us freely pick and choose, according to inclination, even if he allowed it. I have read what DASI says of the human legends he drew on, and the speculations that Journeyman and She Who Waits were willing to share.

“Jarna wanted the power of fertility, to safely bear you, and war, for the struggles to come. But they came bundled together with love, so she took that, too. And once your father made the Skystone, and placed it around her neck, none could gainsay her right. I never did. I was offended by her treatment of your father, just as you were when you learned of it.

"But how much of that was from the needling of the Trickster, spreading resentment so Jarna found no support among those who remained? I do not know. I don’t think any of us do. But it would be foolish to assume we are free of it, even now. And we have no wish to keep the Trickster’s work alive. That is why we seldom speak of your mother. Eyetaker claims she had little choice, if she wished your father to live. So I let my offense go.”

Flicker blinked a few times. "You were cheated.“

"Perhaps. But it was for the best. What power I did have was still the Wanderer’s to command, for hundreds of years.”

She shrugged. "Now the power flows in the channels you made, which are not so confining. You were very generous in sharing it, and I was first in line. And Chooser is a role more flexible, suited to learning and changes in inclination. As I see more of your world, I better understand Jarna’s refusal to let the role of a goddess define her, and your father’s reluctance to accept such power at all.

“It can become a trap. The Trickster and the Thunderer both died of it, and one can justly argue that the Wanderer and the Norns died of their limits, as well. So I do not seek to be a 'goddess of love’ any more than your friend Jetgirl is a 'goddess of flight’.

"But such power can come unlooked for, and shape us outside the old roles, as Eyetaker found. So I do not disdain what may well be a warning.”

“Fair enough,” said Flicker. "And you’ve just given me a better way to think about why I don’t like the name Skybreaker. Thank you.“

Osk smiled again and nodded, as voices from the corridor announced the arrival of Yiskah and Eirik.

Next: Chapter 18

