“We’ve had a lot to do since then, but somehow you’re right. I can’t say why though. The Hadarak are far more powerful than them, as are the Bond of Resistance.”
“But they’re not superior. The Hadarak are crude, brutish, and low skilled, short-lived slaves run by unseen masters utilizing genetic chains that cannot be easily broken. You can’t rescue them, and they don’t even want to preserve their own lives. They’re powerful primitives, but still primitives, and the fact that they’re winning so much has to be frustrating?”
“No, it’s not that. They’re swarm strategy, just like the lizards were, only amplified to planetary level. No, you were right earlier. It’s Essence. We’ve pursued the power, but in a way I don’t want it.”
“Why is that?”
“It doesn’t feel…warriorish. Does that make any sense?”
“You have to pursue the power because it’s necessary, but it doesn’t obey the physical training ascension ladder that everything prior to it did.”
“You can be fat and still develop Essence,” Paul said pointedly, never having phrased it like that, but now that he thought about it the sentiment became crystal clear. “There was a lore from before I was born. A group of special powered individuals, all with different powers. They were called X-men. Some of their powers could be developed with training, some greatly so, but a few just had natural abilities that were either there or not. One was called Cyclops. His eyes fired energy beams. That was his usefulness in battle.”
“And his power wasn’t tied to physical fitness at all?”
“Nor to training. He had the same output no matter how many times he used it. It didn’t change. He just showed up, pointed, and fired. He could have got extremely fat and accomplished the same task.”
“And you don’t like the idea of a ‘slacker’ being able to be a peer with those who had to work their way to power?”
“Something like that. I don’t want to undo my Essence skills. I just feel that something is off in the way we have to fight. It was worse before we had any defenses for it.”
“Did you feel the same way about your psionics?”
“No, not at all. I guess because those had to be trained and mastered.”
“And leveled up?”
Paul stopped walking as they came to a dead end, then followed Cal-com to the side as they began to climb a stone staircase.
“It’s not just about skill or muscle. It’s power reserves. An inferior can overwhelm a master if they have a larger reserve.”
“Such as the Uriti?”
“I don’t have a problem with them.”
“But you do the Neofan?”
“More so the Vargemma, but yes, also the Neofan. I see inferiors with greater power than me.”
“As if the universal constant of hard work got destroyed when Essence was introduced to your knowledge.”
“It hasn’t been the same since, and even refusing to use it now is making me feel better.”
“Perhaps Wilson was right,” Cal-com suggested as they came to the observation walkway up on top of the city’s boundary wall, with few people up there other than occasional joggers. The pair walked up to the low wall that had a security field just beyond it to prevent people from falling off and down into the distant jungle below, for the city was elevated at least 50 meters above the tree canopy.
“I’ve tried to confirm that, but I haven’t been able to find anything at fault. It’s more a matter of my mood.”
“You going back to the way things were before the end of your greatest war?”
“Psionics seem more honorable. Hand to hand combat more right. Essence weapons that mass destroy entire planetary populations…that’s just cheating.”
“And space monsters that just run into and eat chunks of planets rather than conquering them is also off?”
“Our not being able to talk to them is off. Not being able to argue or negotiate. Not being able to mouth off…”
“You’re having to fight inferiors who have superior power, and not by skill or training.”
“It feels like the universe is being dumbed down,” Paul said, resting his elbows on the railing and pulling up his hood so he could see the spectacular view ahead, which included no less than 6 distant waterfalls coming off a jungle-covered ridge some 15 or more miles away.
“Because you’re outgrowing it?”
“Maybe. I have so much more power now, but I don’t know how to really use it. Nothing feels equal to it.”
“Overkill?”
“Yes, in some ways. A waste of time in others, though not to the people we’re helping.”
“This world you’ve helped immensely through inspiration alone.”
“I’m meant for something more, Cal-com. This stuff is what we do on our vacations.”
The Voku nodded, pulling back his hood until his blue visor was visible, and he looked over at Paul’s smooth, but chiseled face. “It’s time for you to move on to greater challenges while your second gen takes over your previous work.”
“What greater challenges?” Paul asked, looking at him.
“Not the Hadarak. You learned how to beat them when you beat the lizards. Now you’re just adapting the methods to a slightly different enemy. Essence alters the equation, but you’ve made the necessary adjustments. Now it’s just a matter of naval fleet strength accumulation.”
“What else is left?” Paul asked, almost pleading with him for something bigger to do.
“Solve the mystery of the universe.”
The Archon looked back out at the jungle and the waterfalls. “Doesn’t that involve greater Essence knowledge?”
“Now I am suspecting that you don’t just dislike Essence combat, but that you somehow hate it. Explain.”
“We used Uriti Essence to upgrade faster,” Paul said with disgust. “We didn’t just use our own. We didn’t earn it, and someone else out there might not be earning it either and getting way ahead of us.
