Revelation

The entire reason for their conquests, at least from their point of view, was so they could recreate the universe in the same way as before. In a strange, twisted way, they were preserving life, making it immortal. The Elekai did not kill, but in the end, if they won, all would die with the eventual death of the universe.

It was mind-boggling, but the one thing I did know was that my world would end if the Radaskim won. The world of my children, if I ever had any, would end. Everyone else’s world would end. The universe didn’t exist so an alien race could play with the Secrets of Creation — whatever those were. It existed for all. It was so weird, to think of these things, to be processing all this information. The world — the entire universe — was so much bigger than I had ever thought.

“How do I stop them?” I asked. “I know you already said that I have to infect Askala with the Elekai version of the virus. But how do I do that, practically?”

Again, the Wanderer looked at me, his white eyes clouded, mysterious. “To stop the Radaskim…you must go to Ragnarok Crater, find the Xenomind, and sacrifice yourself.”

It took a moment to comprehend what the Wanderer had just told me. I looked away, my head spinning. I saw the surrounding pond frothing in agitation, steam rising. The walls of the cave quivered.

The Wanderer gazed at me intensely, awaiting my response.

“Sacrifice myself?

The Wanderer nodded. “That is all I can say, because that is all I know. I can’t tell you what that will look like, practically speaking. No one has ever been successful.”

“You say other people have tried. Who were these people?”

“They were sentient, intelligent races on other worlds — long dead — with nothing but the memories of the Elekai to preserve them.” The Wanderer paused. “Some were not unlike you. Some were incredibly different. But the Elekai have always chosen one.”

“Why does it have to be one of us?” I asked. “Why can’t it be one of you?”

The Wanderer smiled bitterly. “You will think this strange. Very strange. But we are prevented from doing so. On the smallest levels, it occurs. An Elekai dragon, for example, can kill a few crawlers and not disobey his morality, especially if it’s self-defense. Still, something so direct as to strike at the heart of a Xenomind itself…” The Wanderer shook his head. “We are unable to do that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember. We cannot kill. We cannot destroy, willingly. The difference between an Elekai Xenomind and a Radaskim Xenomind is the ability to kill the other.” The Wanderer shook his head. “We cannot do that.”

“So, you do it indirectly?”

The Wanderer nodded. “It is the only way we’ve found so far that allows us to try. But remember: it is your decision. The fact that this is your free choice is critical.”

“There is no way that a Xenomind could attack another one?”

“If we changed, we would become Radaskim. And if we do that, the Radaskim win.”

“But…you can choose not to kill, right? Maybe you have the ability to do it, like people do, but you can always choose not to.” I looked at the Wanderer. “Right?”

The Wanderer smiled once more. “That is also where we are different. When a Xenomind becomes as misdirected as Askala, or any other Radaskim Xenomind, there is no choice. Maybe free will and the ability to choose is natural to humans. Some will choose wrongly, some rightly. For Xenominds, it is not so simple. It is all, or nothing.”

That was it, then. To stop this invasion, I would have to give my own life. I didn’t know what that meant, but this might be my only chance to make a difference. I had to meet my fate.

I made my decision.

“I’ll do it, but…I don’t know how I’m going to make it to Ragnarok Crater.”

The Wanderer smiled. “What about your friends?”

“They think I’m a Howler, or worse,” I said. “They saw me fly away on the dragon. I wouldn’t be surprised if they just shot me as soon as I landed.”

“I don’t think you give them enough credit. You need to tell them what I’ve told you. You will need their help. This cannot be done alone. Those who have tried to stop the Radaskim alone have failed.”

I didn’t bother to point out that everyone had failed, regardless of whether they were alone or not.

“But if I go back…” The thought of making that long journey across the Great Blight and through the pursuing swarm terrified me. “I’ll just get killed.”

“Being Elekai has its own benefits,” the Wanderer said. “I think you will find that xenolife will respond to you in a way it never would have before. Elekai xenolife, anyway.”

“Respond? What do you mean?”

“The Elekai are all one tribe, and we help each other out, when we can. I think you will grow to understand what that means, with time.”

I had no idea what the Wanderer was talking about, but I hoped that it would make sense eventually. I was just wondering how everyone would react when they saw me returning. I didn’t know how long I had been on the island with the Wanderer, but it had felt like a long time.

I felt myself growing tired. I leaned back into the xenofungus. It felt soft and warm beneath me, no longer threatening. As the bed touched my skin, I felt a slight tingle that faded over the next few seconds. A sense of peace overwhelmed me, and soon I was asleep.

Chapter 20

I awoke much later. Time had passed — a long time. I couldn’t remember the last time I had awoken so rested and refreshed. I felt the fungus, soft around me. Maybe it nurtured as much as it killed.

I stood, stretching stiff muscles. The cavern appeared much as it did before, except that it was now missing the Wanderer. Alone with my thoughts, I found everything the Wanderer told me still made little sense. All I remembered was the conclusion: that it all depended on my being able to infect the Radaskim Xenomind called Askala.

Me against that seemed an impossible match-up. No wonder no one had ever succeeded — no one on a thousand worlds. I wondered what they must have thought, hundreds, thousands, maybe even millions of years ago. Had they stood before a pink lake like this, a lake as still as glass, wondering if they could ever be enough? Despite this thought, I felt a sense of peace, a sense of purpose.

I guessed when you had something to be afraid of, something as big as the Radaskim, nothing else was so scary. Everything else burned away into nothing. It became a void through which I would travel to my end.

I walked to the shoreline, stepping into the viscous liquid. It wrapped around my boot. I waded in further, the liquid warm on my skin. I swam forward, contemplating where I would go now, whether it would be north to meet my fate, or west to my friends, who still knew nothing of what I had learned. The Wanderer said that all who tried to go alone had failed. Still, I felt strongly that I needed to go to Ragnarok Crater and see what there was to see. Maybe I would find my final answer there. Maybe I would be the first to succeed.

I climbed from the pool and walked up the spiraling tunnel that led to the surface. The liquid slid down my skin, rejoining the xenofungal floor. My footsteps padded on the ground, squishing and then deadening on the walls. Pink daylight stretched down the walls, the floor, and the ceiling from ahead. The light grew in intensity, until I was at the cavern’s entrance. I stepped into bright daylight, finding the crimson clouds boiling. The air was thick with an alien spice I couldn’t quite describe — like cinnamon so strong that it felt like a punch in the nose. I should have been knocked out from it, but if these were spores, they had no effect on me.