“So,” I said, the sound of my voice disappearing just beyond my nose, “where am I?”
I knew that speaking into a hallucination was bad, but I couldn’t help myself. I felt overcome by the power of the squids and wanted to know more. I was enjoying the sensation of awe and wonder.
You are in our domain. Our kingdom. Our universe. Our xadaar.
The last word sounded like “zi-dar” and made no sense. I felt as though I’d heard it somewhere before, though. I didn’t hold any particular religious beliefs, but something inside of me, call it my “soul,” understood the word’s meaning.
It meant something like kingdom but without the baggage of government, a hierarchy, or politics. The Lakunae had claimed it, conquered it, and now, it was theirs.
I looked around, searching for a landmark, a star—something they could rule over.
Nothing much to see except darkness, darkness, and more darkness. Your xadaar could use some TLC.
I immediately regretted the thought. Anger and vile hatred focused on my soul, which seemed to whither in response. I gasped as my bones filled with the Lukanae’s rage. My body became rigid, and I thought I might explode. These telepathic Gods didn’t seem to enjoy humor, nor could I hide my thoughts from them. I didn’t offer an apology, but I stopped thinking that they were masters of little more than a big, empty space. The feeling passed, and I only sensed one mind connected to my own.
Your mission has failed.
Yeah, no shit. This thing was brilliant. Above brilliant. Its ability to state the obvious was probably unmatched. What was it trying to do, shame me? Hardly. I’d already killed a bunch of Xeno. Hopefully, the Revenge had taken out the rest of them as well. I’d done my part.
I cut my thoughts short before the squids’ anger could rise again. I crossed my arms and waited for it to continue.
Your crew has survived. We have returned them to your xadaar. You will join them there once again.
My mood lightened a bit. I motioned for the squid to go on. From the mind, I sensed amusement. That wasn’t such a bad way to go, either. I could make friends with the thing, though a small part of my mind, a new memory cowering in a corner, warned me against it.
Our kingdom is peaceful, quiet, and serene. We desire to bring peace to your existence, your lands, your worlds, and your lives. But we can not travel there from here.
I kept my arms crossed and studied the giant eyeball in front of me. The thing wanted my help? It’d already helped me. If these squid had found a way to keep my crew alive in hyperspace, then it evidently wanted something from me. Some kind of payment for the deed they’d done.
“All right,” I said into the void. “What’s your game plan?”
We will return you to your universe. You will take with you a piece of us. You will gain understanding, strength, power of mind and body, and more. You will collect and gather the components of those who came before you. You will assemble them and open a portal for us to pass through.
“So, you want to leave. Get out of whatever this is,” I said.
Do this, and your universe will know peace.
I thought about it. I’d been trained to kill, destroy, and ruin. But, in the end, my job was to bring peace. When political means failed, when reason, compassion, and logic couldn’t bring an end to conflict, I, and those like me, were sent in to secure the end of hostility through extreme and immediate violence. But, in the end, the goal was peace. It was my job to work myself out of a job. It was also my personal dream. I felt better about the request, but the memory that concealed itself in a dark place of my mind whimpered and warned against it.
“I understand,” I felt myself saying.
You are our avatar. Make your way to our artifacts. Retrieve them. Assemble them. Open the way for our arrival.
Images entered my mind like important facts I’d forgotten a long time ago. Like memories of old childhood friends and pets, they seemed familiar. I saw the artifacts—golden, silver, and black machines of impressive complexity yet simple design.
You will be granted strength of our strength, memories of our memories, and knowledge from beyond. Behold, your gift.
I only had a moment to wonder what it meant by “gift” before I was consumed by a pain I’d never experienced in my life. My body exploded into nothingness. My soul cried out and attempted to flee. My vision traveled above my twitching, thrashing form and began to slowly spin like the hand of an ancient, mechanical clock.
I watched my body grow, become translucent, and fade into a spherical cloud. I continued to spin and watched as, little by little, the cloud began to condense.
Time no longer had meaning. I felt nothing. I knew nothing. I couldn’t change my perspective or close my eyes. All I could do was spin and watch my body slowly take shape from the cloud.
When about half of my body had formed, small sparks became visible, like networks along my limbs. They were easy to spot against the black backdrop, and the more that formed, the more excited the squids became. They started to chant, not in words, but in thoughts, feelings, ideas, and although I could see my body and wasn’t occupying it, I began to feel my limbs.
It started as a tingling sensation in my fingers and toes. It moved to my lips, arms, and legs. Then the universe—all of existence—began to fade, and a new sensation began to replace it.
Sound.
I both felt and heard a deep, rumbling roar. I opened my eyes but couldn’t focus. The metallic taste of the drug’s after-effects welled up in my mouth. An edge of cold, sickly sweet fluid joined it. I coughed, and a silver-black fluid exploded from my lungs and splashed on the ground. A
