"In one aspect, yes, I believe in ghosts, but we create them. We haunt ourselves." – "Wintergirls" Laurie Halse Anderson

Author's Note:

The format of the story of "Days of Eternity" has changed to make for easier reading. I have moved all the back history of Balem Abrasax into another fic.

I really like it when things make sense in a story. It isn't enough for me to read something that has so many gaps I am wondering where things are going. I have questions to answer about the Jupiter Ascending universe, and I hope I can answer them as I go along.

Pls refer to the other fics in this "Days of Eternity" series for explanations as to what certain things are.

Easy reminders:
1. The known universe is organised into an interstellar commonwealth.
2. Genetics is everything in this universe.
3. All beings in the interstellar commonwealth subscribe to a religion/spiritual path called "The Cosmic Way", which defines beliefs on genetics, reincarnation, ethics… etc etc.

Links to:
Links to another story on this site -

"Madman, Tyrant, Villain and Murderer (aka Balem's Backstory)"

In spite of how it appeared, Balem Abrasax did not die in his epic fall from the steel walkway in his final confrontation with Jupiter Jones. As he fell downwards in a spiral of smoke and fire in the lavender-orange light of the planet, a horrible thought of his body being smashed to bits like how a watermelon is smashed when it is dropped from a height flashed across his mind. He felt the rush of air and pressure in his ears as he whizzed downwards into the maelstrom. He had no idea of the trajectory of his fall. He only saw the bright trail formed by legionnaire boots as Mr Wise zipped across the emptiness of the space between the structures of his refinery.

He felt he might fall for a long time, but soon enough he felt the back of his head smacking hard against something metallic. Glancing at his fingers a final time, he was amazed that his bones had withstood the super-strong gravitational force of the planet Jupiter. No doubt he was now in bits, far below in the bowels of his refinery.

The pain he felt was tremendous, he did not understand how he managed to stay conscious throughout it all. His heart did not stop in mid fall, as he had expected, so now he felt his bones shatter and saw a rib sticking out of his broken chest.

Then he saw nothing, just darkness. Balem Abrasax let out his breath and proceeded to give up his ghost. It was a feeling almost akin to relief and then he felt peace.

In the darkness behind his lids, he saw images of his life, from when he was born in a birthing facility, through to important moments in his life, to when he finally strangled Seraphi in her residence. He remembered how old she looked. She was tired of life, tired of everything, and looking for meaning in her existence.

She was never really made for eternity. She understood much, she knew much about the human body and how it could be preserved against the ravages of time, but not truly, how to preserve her psyche and mind against the onslaught of so many years, especially years all alone. In the end, time ate her up.

Finally, when the images stopped and he floated in a sea of darkness, Balem saw a bright flash of light. He felt as if he was floating towards it. It was warm and inviting. Some distant part of his mind told him that that bright light was likely the final flash of his neural receptors firing off for the last time before he dropped into oblivion forever. Ancient humans, some of them at least, believed the light to be a gateway to some sort of afterlife. Whether that was true or not, Balem did not know, the path of the Cosmic Mind did not provide those answers. Only the reassurance that he would again recur should the universe require his presence.

Perhaps all that awaited the dead was the constant peace and silence of oblivion until they again became conscious, but in another life, in other flesh.

Never one to fear darkness, shadow and wordless silence, Balem allowed his consciousness to take him where it would most naturally go. He half expected to sink into the deep night of no being, but instead, he floated quickly into the light, where he experienced a great sense of peace.

He existed in a world of light and colour and no mind. He was not conscious at all, not even dreaming. It was as if he was suspended in a space where he merely was and had no name, goals or even thoughts. Here was a world without names, forms or time. A constant eternal now that was all light and colour and a blissful not-knowing.

What was his name? He did not know and did not care.

Balem

That was the first word that came to him. The name caused a form to take shape in the wash of colour and light, and then this form became solid, and took on the attributes of weight and mass and sank like a rock through the layers of colour and light. As he sank, Balem noticed that his surroundings grew darker and heavier, until he "landed."

He was floating on an anti-grav bed similar to that found in many high-end medical facilities. The only lights that were in his darkened room were the lights of the monitors. It reminded him a bit of his earliest days as a baby in a birthing facility where machines with silvery appendages poked and prodded him. He was completely bare except for a light sheet of some fine fabric that covered his lower body. He tried wriggling his toes and was relieved to find that he could still do it on his left foot. He could not feel his right foot at all. However, he was in considerable pain. He noticed that the part of his torso where his rib stuck out had undergone some form of surgery. He was pleased that that the surgeon did a fine job, but he also noted that his ribcage had collapsed and was crushed.

It was at that point he noticed that he was breathing with the aid of a machine. A breathing mask covered his nose and mouth. He could not speak or make a sound since there was a breathing tube down his mouth. He tried to get it off, but could not move his hands. He tried turning to see his arm and hands, but could not do so.

Eventually, after a very long spell, he noticed a shadow moving at the corner of the room. This shadow grew larger as it approached him. Soon, Chicanery's face came into view.

"Thank the Mind," Chicanery whispered. "I really do not want to have to find another employer and master."

Balem stared at him, willing that the splice could read his mind.

"I'm so sorry sir," he said quietly. "There really wasn't anyone else to call…"