THE NOTICE
Zo'or's words once more rang in his ears, deceptive bearers of what the CVI indicated and perfectly replicated as being the reality that had taken place a few hours ago. His access to the taelon main databases and to the security protocols of the mothership in general had been descended to level 2. Until further notice, had said Zo'or. Which meant that virtually everything he did, he had to have verified and approved of by members of the staff working on the shift that took them to the bridge. Every implanted volunteers - drones, as they were called by the human members of the mothership's crew - possessed level 3 security, every protectors, implanted or not had access to level 4 security, level 5 was reserved to Taelons, level 6 was for the fourteen Synod members. He had been the only human entrusted with the access to level 5, much to the disagreement of the Synod, but Zo'or had once more used of his influence, or authority, on them then.
His formal taelon employer was laying more and more threats along the path they were, for now, both following. His position was always put in jeopardy : only a few hours earlier, had it not been for Major Kincaid's unexpected offer of a deal be done, concerning Juliette Street's detention and Sandoval's involvment in it along with his intentions of being the only one owner of the solution to the Taelons' core energy crisis, only a few hours earlier, he had almost expected a confrontation with Zo'or. Almost.
Sometimes, the leader of the Taelon species showed very little of the qualities that should be ones of every leaders : to foresee the move of his enemy and trap them, instead of exposing to them a mere threat. Or to hide his emotions, not to let others than who he wished peak at what were his primary concerns and what were not. Or to display arrogance while he was not even sure of having behind him a comfortable backup position. Or tens of others like these. Ronald Sandoval found, over all, difficult to believe that the Synod could not be aware of what was Zo'or planning to do, where was he leading them and how selfish were his goals in the end.
Maybe each Taelon taken separately had more preoccupying goals. Maybe - this proposition being at the same time, the most likely one and the most worrying one - had control never slipped from their hands. Maybe they were just loosening their grip on Zo'or, but when time would come to really take actions they would. But this was not like Taelons at all, this was like Humans. He should not, he could not allow himself to make this mistake again.
To consider Taelons as he did Humans. They were not one and the same, as he had learned. Seven years and several days of work alongside the Companions, including fifteen hours per day, minimum, spent in the presence of alien beings had taught him that the Taelons were not a twisted reflexion of humanity that was only distorted in its physical form and basic knowledge and evolution. But that the difference was more than this, went farther, deeper. The frustration, that had once, when he was a. fully functionnal implant, come up, linked at the time with the fact that he could not seem to perceive how alien they were, how better they were, how possibly different could they be, the extent of their knowledge, how they functionned and acted - but now that his CVI had given away and that he was free to picture the whole situation through eyes that were not clouded anymore by something that had been implanted in his brain, his frustration at the lack of informations on the Taelons was still there, but not for the same purposes, obviously.
The former FBI agent sighed as he sent yet another request for his connexion to the mothership's main database, hoping that he would be able to fetch the infos that he wished to access before morning, before he would actually have to present Zo'or with the report - ironically, or meaningfully, most of the datas concerning the report he would have to hand in to the Synod Leader were not anymore in his range of authorized access.
He leaned back into his seat as he pressed the 'send' key firmly down with his right index. The faintly metallic noise perceived by his CVI-enhanced senses indicated him that he would soon need a new keyboard, this one was dying as all human technology one day would be. He wished he could have a taelon interface as Major Kincaid had recently obtained one to work from home on taelon files, but Zo'or was far from being a directly permissive person. His back was aching, every single muscle swirling around his spine and allowing it to bend and twist were being a pain themselves.
Sandoval allowed his thoughts to drift off as his gaze left the lit form of his computer screen to wander in his appartment, stopping at the window, fixing themselves on the outside. In New York, very little stars were visible at night, even in the dead of it - as it currently was : two hours past midnight. Despite the contradiction indicated by the sparkling and flashing lights and neons lost in the maze of the desert streets, New York was very asleep, as he should be.
¤
The Commonality was unusually silent. Little voices were speaking up anymore, mental communications were rare, the only bonds that still prevailed were the ones existing between two lovers - they formed tight groups of the usually three-membered pairing and shared thoughts and words between themselves, shutting the thoughts of the Commonality out. It felt morbid. And it rightfully was so, since they were dying. His species was dying. He had failed them, somehow. They were doomed and would remain so if the Humans did not act on their behalf, which Zo'or had very little trust they would.
Through the infinitely small link that still, despite their political divergeance of opinions, they shared as parent and child, Zo'or could sense that Da'an was resting in the company of the one of his two lovers who was present on Earth. Their couple who be completed when Na'el would arrive from the nearby outpost of Star'yha, where he served as a scientist along with twelve other Taelons who had been recalled to the mothership. Na'el was the only one other from whom he had origined. The third lover Ra'ilk, with whom Zo'or could sense Da'an was sharing at this very moment, had been included in their bond after Zo'or's other parent had faded away during childbirth - the birth of him. It had at the time been unusual for Taelons to die during childbirth. But Zo'or had been told to be a child that had died before his time, he was to be locked away and forgotten like all the other children trapped in their cryogenic tubes carefully kept away in the womb of the mothership. Mu'ar had not wished for fare to speak of the ending of the life of the child he bore. He had transferred all of his core energy into him, giving more too soon and leaving the baby fragilized, both mentally and physically, as well as unable, for physiological reasons to reproduce, but alive none the less. For this, Zo'or would be eternally thankful.
Many Taelons wished, as did Da'an, Na'el and Ra'ilk to join once more and enjoy the exceptionnal closeness they shared before they entered stasis and would be forced away from life and each other - perhaps for centuries, but more likely forever.
Zo'or envied this possibility of closeness for he had no lovers, nor had he ever been allowed to, the Synod had never wished for the energy of others to be wasted in a fruitless mating with one sterile Taelon. He had always accepted this part of his fate. But now, as the Commonality was silent and as each Taelon was quietly drifting away and seeking for refuge in his lovers' minds, Zo'or found that he somehow craved. this closeness.
Allowing the bio-slurry to mould further against his form, Zo'or let himself slip out of the human façade he had to bear in front of members of their species. But there were none present on the bridge at this hour. A beeping noise interrupted the slightly meditative state in which he was edging to fall. Agent Sandoval's twelvth request to access the mothership's logs. His gesture sharpened by mild impatience, the Taelon waved for a datastream to open before him and as the particles of energy descended, Zo'or regained control of his physical display, masking himslf again beneath his more human-looking counterpart, this counterpart to every Taelons that Humans were used and more comfortable to. Dialing the yet familiar number of his implant's personnal communication device, though this one was more private and not to be known of everyone, his number at home, as Humans put it.
The response was not slow to come. The asian features of Ronald Sandoval appeared, filling the blank blueness of the screen, after less than half of the beeping sound, the ringing, had gone by. "Sandoval here-." The Human marked a pause that Zo'or knew - and had known for sometime - was not one introducing compliance, neither happiness, neither anticipation of what was to be asked of him. Only a faint flicker of disagreement. "How may I be of help Zo'or ?"
"You requested twelve times the access to the mothership's main database in the past Earth time of two hours and seventeen minutes." The Synod Leader did not need to go on with his inquisitive thoughts.
"You. assigned me to security level 2 a few hours ago following my. failure concerning Ma'el's relic and its possible solution."
Zo'or's eyes closed for a moment. The implant, as he had spent many of his time on the bridge focusing on observing Zo'or's mannerism, could tell that the Taelon talking to him was tired. Not physical tiredness was spoken of now, but rather mental wearyness. "Then I return you to security level 5." The man's features registered brief surprise, but also a hint of gratitude showed through. "Unless you have anything more to add."
"Nothing Zo'or. Thank you," Sandoval spoke, the second part of his statement pronounced in a voice that was lower.
Zo'or waved the energy stream away, pondered for a time on the subject of Sandoval's loyalties, then decidedly gestured with his fingers for the energy shower to swirl around his seat as he allowed himself to lay back and enjoy the few hours of rest that he may get.
Zo'or's words once more rang in his ears, deceptive bearers of what the CVI indicated and perfectly replicated as being the reality that had taken place a few hours ago. His access to the taelon main databases and to the security protocols of the mothership in general had been descended to level 2. Until further notice, had said Zo'or. Which meant that virtually everything he did, he had to have verified and approved of by members of the staff working on the shift that took them to the bridge. Every implanted volunteers - drones, as they were called by the human members of the mothership's crew - possessed level 3 security, every protectors, implanted or not had access to level 4 security, level 5 was reserved to Taelons, level 6 was for the fourteen Synod members. He had been the only human entrusted with the access to level 5, much to the disagreement of the Synod, but Zo'or had once more used of his influence, or authority, on them then.
His formal taelon employer was laying more and more threats along the path they were, for now, both following. His position was always put in jeopardy : only a few hours earlier, had it not been for Major Kincaid's unexpected offer of a deal be done, concerning Juliette Street's detention and Sandoval's involvment in it along with his intentions of being the only one owner of the solution to the Taelons' core energy crisis, only a few hours earlier, he had almost expected a confrontation with Zo'or. Almost.
Sometimes, the leader of the Taelon species showed very little of the qualities that should be ones of every leaders : to foresee the move of his enemy and trap them, instead of exposing to them a mere threat. Or to hide his emotions, not to let others than who he wished peak at what were his primary concerns and what were not. Or to display arrogance while he was not even sure of having behind him a comfortable backup position. Or tens of others like these. Ronald Sandoval found, over all, difficult to believe that the Synod could not be aware of what was Zo'or planning to do, where was he leading them and how selfish were his goals in the end.
Maybe each Taelon taken separately had more preoccupying goals. Maybe - this proposition being at the same time, the most likely one and the most worrying one - had control never slipped from their hands. Maybe they were just loosening their grip on Zo'or, but when time would come to really take actions they would. But this was not like Taelons at all, this was like Humans. He should not, he could not allow himself to make this mistake again.
To consider Taelons as he did Humans. They were not one and the same, as he had learned. Seven years and several days of work alongside the Companions, including fifteen hours per day, minimum, spent in the presence of alien beings had taught him that the Taelons were not a twisted reflexion of humanity that was only distorted in its physical form and basic knowledge and evolution. But that the difference was more than this, went farther, deeper. The frustration, that had once, when he was a. fully functionnal implant, come up, linked at the time with the fact that he could not seem to perceive how alien they were, how better they were, how possibly different could they be, the extent of their knowledge, how they functionned and acted - but now that his CVI had given away and that he was free to picture the whole situation through eyes that were not clouded anymore by something that had been implanted in his brain, his frustration at the lack of informations on the Taelons was still there, but not for the same purposes, obviously.
The former FBI agent sighed as he sent yet another request for his connexion to the mothership's main database, hoping that he would be able to fetch the infos that he wished to access before morning, before he would actually have to present Zo'or with the report - ironically, or meaningfully, most of the datas concerning the report he would have to hand in to the Synod Leader were not anymore in his range of authorized access.
He leaned back into his seat as he pressed the 'send' key firmly down with his right index. The faintly metallic noise perceived by his CVI-enhanced senses indicated him that he would soon need a new keyboard, this one was dying as all human technology one day would be. He wished he could have a taelon interface as Major Kincaid had recently obtained one to work from home on taelon files, but Zo'or was far from being a directly permissive person. His back was aching, every single muscle swirling around his spine and allowing it to bend and twist were being a pain themselves.
Sandoval allowed his thoughts to drift off as his gaze left the lit form of his computer screen to wander in his appartment, stopping at the window, fixing themselves on the outside. In New York, very little stars were visible at night, even in the dead of it - as it currently was : two hours past midnight. Despite the contradiction indicated by the sparkling and flashing lights and neons lost in the maze of the desert streets, New York was very asleep, as he should be.
¤
The Commonality was unusually silent. Little voices were speaking up anymore, mental communications were rare, the only bonds that still prevailed were the ones existing between two lovers - they formed tight groups of the usually three-membered pairing and shared thoughts and words between themselves, shutting the thoughts of the Commonality out. It felt morbid. And it rightfully was so, since they were dying. His species was dying. He had failed them, somehow. They were doomed and would remain so if the Humans did not act on their behalf, which Zo'or had very little trust they would.
Through the infinitely small link that still, despite their political divergeance of opinions, they shared as parent and child, Zo'or could sense that Da'an was resting in the company of the one of his two lovers who was present on Earth. Their couple who be completed when Na'el would arrive from the nearby outpost of Star'yha, where he served as a scientist along with twelve other Taelons who had been recalled to the mothership. Na'el was the only one other from whom he had origined. The third lover Ra'ilk, with whom Zo'or could sense Da'an was sharing at this very moment, had been included in their bond after Zo'or's other parent had faded away during childbirth - the birth of him. It had at the time been unusual for Taelons to die during childbirth. But Zo'or had been told to be a child that had died before his time, he was to be locked away and forgotten like all the other children trapped in their cryogenic tubes carefully kept away in the womb of the mothership. Mu'ar had not wished for fare to speak of the ending of the life of the child he bore. He had transferred all of his core energy into him, giving more too soon and leaving the baby fragilized, both mentally and physically, as well as unable, for physiological reasons to reproduce, but alive none the less. For this, Zo'or would be eternally thankful.
Many Taelons wished, as did Da'an, Na'el and Ra'ilk to join once more and enjoy the exceptionnal closeness they shared before they entered stasis and would be forced away from life and each other - perhaps for centuries, but more likely forever.
Zo'or envied this possibility of closeness for he had no lovers, nor had he ever been allowed to, the Synod had never wished for the energy of others to be wasted in a fruitless mating with one sterile Taelon. He had always accepted this part of his fate. But now, as the Commonality was silent and as each Taelon was quietly drifting away and seeking for refuge in his lovers' minds, Zo'or found that he somehow craved. this closeness.
Allowing the bio-slurry to mould further against his form, Zo'or let himself slip out of the human façade he had to bear in front of members of their species. But there were none present on the bridge at this hour. A beeping noise interrupted the slightly meditative state in which he was edging to fall. Agent Sandoval's twelvth request to access the mothership's logs. His gesture sharpened by mild impatience, the Taelon waved for a datastream to open before him and as the particles of energy descended, Zo'or regained control of his physical display, masking himslf again beneath his more human-looking counterpart, this counterpart to every Taelons that Humans were used and more comfortable to. Dialing the yet familiar number of his implant's personnal communication device, though this one was more private and not to be known of everyone, his number at home, as Humans put it.
The response was not slow to come. The asian features of Ronald Sandoval appeared, filling the blank blueness of the screen, after less than half of the beeping sound, the ringing, had gone by. "Sandoval here-." The Human marked a pause that Zo'or knew - and had known for sometime - was not one introducing compliance, neither happiness, neither anticipation of what was to be asked of him. Only a faint flicker of disagreement. "How may I be of help Zo'or ?"
"You requested twelve times the access to the mothership's main database in the past Earth time of two hours and seventeen minutes." The Synod Leader did not need to go on with his inquisitive thoughts.
"You. assigned me to security level 2 a few hours ago following my. failure concerning Ma'el's relic and its possible solution."
Zo'or's eyes closed for a moment. The implant, as he had spent many of his time on the bridge focusing on observing Zo'or's mannerism, could tell that the Taelon talking to him was tired. Not physical tiredness was spoken of now, but rather mental wearyness. "Then I return you to security level 5." The man's features registered brief surprise, but also a hint of gratitude showed through. "Unless you have anything more to add."
"Nothing Zo'or. Thank you," Sandoval spoke, the second part of his statement pronounced in a voice that was lower.
Zo'or waved the energy stream away, pondered for a time on the subject of Sandoval's loyalties, then decidedly gestured with his fingers for the energy shower to swirl around his seat as he allowed himself to lay back and enjoy the few hours of rest that he may get.