THE FLY AND THE MYSTERIOUS WALL
Da'an was alone in the main audience chamber of his embassy situated in the city of Washington, one of the main cities within the portion of secluded and frontiered land defined as the United States. He knew that in one of the minor audience chambers below, located on the level two and three - the first level was available to all visitors and guests, it was as public as the garden below the embassy, though heavily wathced, the second level demanded a security clearance of level one, which was the importance given to volunteers in their hierarchy, the third level though, demanded a level four security clearance, which was granted to acknowledged and, previously, formerly identified security agents working daily in the company of Taelons, they called themselves Companion Protectors - there was a security briefing going on. He was making an apperance in a town of similar importance called Seattle (though, Da'an remembered, Humans did not like or comprehended when he used such qualificatives to picture objects, places or individuals they were familiar with).
Major Kincaid, his former protector with whom he had shared a relationship of mutual understanding, what Humans called friendship, though Da'an had never felt the concrete affection that human beings saw in this term, for he was not given permission by the commonality's bounds to attach to an individual, to any level, as were all members of the Synod - but this relationship was now slowly self-destructing.
Major Kincaid was in charge of the meeting, the Companion forced his thoughts to go on as he prefered not to muse upon the loss of Liam's trust again. The last time he had allowed himself such. emotional distress, many of his fellows had inquired through the Commonality upon his status, both mental and physical, worried to find weariness in Da'an's voice, gestures or thoughts. Every Taelons asked of their fellows' well-being now very often : all of them were worried about the sake of their own race, their survival through time, the fact that they were subject to immediate destruction. It was not what Humans would have called immediate, but as Taelons were concretely immortal in human terms the youngest of their children outliving by ten times the oldest Human, a few years, a few months or a few weeks. It could have been a few decade, and still Da'an would have felt the end coming, closing and closing on them, strangling them slowly. Worry. Worry spread through the once powerful taelon race, they were now askers, they were now requesting help. Mutely so, but still, as Zo'or's mental health and stability was genuinely vaporizing, there would very soon be a need for a renewed leadership amongst them, and what leadership ? No one would lead the Synod and one by one, they would kneel and ask to the Humans for safety and survival.
The American Companion waved the vertical projection of energy away, as he could do little but notice that his mind was unfocused and troubled. With advancing days, he needed more and more days spent in meditation. Liam had lately stated on the subject that he should "take it positively", that he could do in this position little harm to the human species and that it would also grant his employee more time spent in resting.
Da'an had not seen fit to reprimend Liam for these bitter and more than disrespectful words. As the young man had recently got hold of datas concerning a project he had been running without bringing it to the knowledge of the Synod and had openly threatened Da'an to reveal its existence to Zo'or or Agent Sandoval, leaving Da'an defenseless against this impromptu blackmailing. Liam had by then claimed that he had to build insurance for both his own life and resistance interest.
The presence of a faintly disturbing repetitive sound suddenly made its way to Da'an's exterior perceptions, fortunately dragging him away from such dark and clouding thoughts. Major Kincaid had lately displayed an arrogant and tensed behavior, but nonetheless Da'an knew of the hybrid's future potential. A potential that could not be wasted. Though the Taelon was ignorant as to say what were the motivations of the Kimeras and of Ha'gel when Liam's conception had been decided of. He could not yet tell if it would have a positive or negative influence on the survival of his kind.
The noise again, repetitive, bold in disturbing the peace of silence that reigned in this room, his room, his silence and his peace. Da'an focused his exterior attention towards the origin of this noise, though growing suspiscious about its nature as he remembered the three attempted terrorist attacks upon the Embassy, and accessorily upon his persona, that had occurred in the same week less than one month ago. His hand ready, preparing to wave in the air and communicate to the security teams the alert that would bring them to this level in less than thirty seconds, Da'an walked forward, towards the possible origin of such noise.
An insect. A small, very small insect being. It possessed six legs which were currently attached to the surface of the virtual glass. Da'an knew that the radiations emanating from the energy circulating within the pathways created within the virtual glass would kill the terran creature in a matters of hours. But the weird shaped animal seemed not to be overall panicked with this fact - Da'an recalled that flesh-made organisms could not sense radiations except that in feelings its effects on one's body - no, for the moment, it seemed to be preoccupied more with its safe arrival on the other side of what the translucent energy wall.
The Companion tilted his head, observing the single creature, as it tapped repeatedly against the virtual glass. It perceived it as translucent - as it was - but in its restrained mind ruled by instincts and the must-be truth-value of all of its physical perceptions, the fact that it was see- through indicated that there was no barrier, no physical bind to capture the little creature within the room. It must be panicked. Da'an attempted to imagine the panic of one who was trapped in an invisible concrete prison, yet not even being able to feel the sentiments of panic, or joy, or sadness. As were now Taelons. And as they were now cloistered in the prison limited by the perspective of their own extinguishing race.
This wall, mysterious, unknown, a barrier that it the insect could not understand the reasons of the presence of. And also, it could not understand what it did miss, freedom, what was beyond. It was merely restrained and ignored that it was being restrained, ignored that it was restrained, simply mechanically fighting against the restrains, moved by instincts. Pathetic. And, curiously, saddening.
Da'an found himself quietly wondering if the last Taelon alive would be panicked. if the last one of them when he would feel his death coming would feel panic, a feeling that no Taelons had ever felt. Uncontrollable fear, which shook the limbs, and made one's mind irrational, fairly quickly throwing it into the next plane. The last taelon, surviving amongst a dead commonality, listening to their unconscious whispers.
He prefered not to feel this panic himself.
Yet, the fly was still rhythmically tapping against the virtual glass. Everytime the insect brushed its surface, the energy turned colorful with blueish tones which faded rapidly into white, to then come back to their natural translucence.
Perhaps were the Taelons hitting a wall as well ? Perhaps was there no issue to the question they were asking to the universe ?
They would never know before discovering the limits of their prison. But this fly, Da'an thought as he waved the virtual glass barrier into nothingness, could be freed. His kind would never be, and the Humans would be tapping repeatedly against the wall of blinding and walling ignorance.
Nonetheless, Da'an found himself susprisingly capable of feeling a strange hint of relief and satisfaction as the fly fled, its wing creating this buzz-like noise in the air above the nearby gardens.
END
Da'an was alone in the main audience chamber of his embassy situated in the city of Washington, one of the main cities within the portion of secluded and frontiered land defined as the United States. He knew that in one of the minor audience chambers below, located on the level two and three - the first level was available to all visitors and guests, it was as public as the garden below the embassy, though heavily wathced, the second level demanded a security clearance of level one, which was the importance given to volunteers in their hierarchy, the third level though, demanded a level four security clearance, which was granted to acknowledged and, previously, formerly identified security agents working daily in the company of Taelons, they called themselves Companion Protectors - there was a security briefing going on. He was making an apperance in a town of similar importance called Seattle (though, Da'an remembered, Humans did not like or comprehended when he used such qualificatives to picture objects, places or individuals they were familiar with).
Major Kincaid, his former protector with whom he had shared a relationship of mutual understanding, what Humans called friendship, though Da'an had never felt the concrete affection that human beings saw in this term, for he was not given permission by the commonality's bounds to attach to an individual, to any level, as were all members of the Synod - but this relationship was now slowly self-destructing.
Major Kincaid was in charge of the meeting, the Companion forced his thoughts to go on as he prefered not to muse upon the loss of Liam's trust again. The last time he had allowed himself such. emotional distress, many of his fellows had inquired through the Commonality upon his status, both mental and physical, worried to find weariness in Da'an's voice, gestures or thoughts. Every Taelons asked of their fellows' well-being now very often : all of them were worried about the sake of their own race, their survival through time, the fact that they were subject to immediate destruction. It was not what Humans would have called immediate, but as Taelons were concretely immortal in human terms the youngest of their children outliving by ten times the oldest Human, a few years, a few months or a few weeks. It could have been a few decade, and still Da'an would have felt the end coming, closing and closing on them, strangling them slowly. Worry. Worry spread through the once powerful taelon race, they were now askers, they were now requesting help. Mutely so, but still, as Zo'or's mental health and stability was genuinely vaporizing, there would very soon be a need for a renewed leadership amongst them, and what leadership ? No one would lead the Synod and one by one, they would kneel and ask to the Humans for safety and survival.
The American Companion waved the vertical projection of energy away, as he could do little but notice that his mind was unfocused and troubled. With advancing days, he needed more and more days spent in meditation. Liam had lately stated on the subject that he should "take it positively", that he could do in this position little harm to the human species and that it would also grant his employee more time spent in resting.
Da'an had not seen fit to reprimend Liam for these bitter and more than disrespectful words. As the young man had recently got hold of datas concerning a project he had been running without bringing it to the knowledge of the Synod and had openly threatened Da'an to reveal its existence to Zo'or or Agent Sandoval, leaving Da'an defenseless against this impromptu blackmailing. Liam had by then claimed that he had to build insurance for both his own life and resistance interest.
The presence of a faintly disturbing repetitive sound suddenly made its way to Da'an's exterior perceptions, fortunately dragging him away from such dark and clouding thoughts. Major Kincaid had lately displayed an arrogant and tensed behavior, but nonetheless Da'an knew of the hybrid's future potential. A potential that could not be wasted. Though the Taelon was ignorant as to say what were the motivations of the Kimeras and of Ha'gel when Liam's conception had been decided of. He could not yet tell if it would have a positive or negative influence on the survival of his kind.
The noise again, repetitive, bold in disturbing the peace of silence that reigned in this room, his room, his silence and his peace. Da'an focused his exterior attention towards the origin of this noise, though growing suspiscious about its nature as he remembered the three attempted terrorist attacks upon the Embassy, and accessorily upon his persona, that had occurred in the same week less than one month ago. His hand ready, preparing to wave in the air and communicate to the security teams the alert that would bring them to this level in less than thirty seconds, Da'an walked forward, towards the possible origin of such noise.
An insect. A small, very small insect being. It possessed six legs which were currently attached to the surface of the virtual glass. Da'an knew that the radiations emanating from the energy circulating within the pathways created within the virtual glass would kill the terran creature in a matters of hours. But the weird shaped animal seemed not to be overall panicked with this fact - Da'an recalled that flesh-made organisms could not sense radiations except that in feelings its effects on one's body - no, for the moment, it seemed to be preoccupied more with its safe arrival on the other side of what the translucent energy wall.
The Companion tilted his head, observing the single creature, as it tapped repeatedly against the virtual glass. It perceived it as translucent - as it was - but in its restrained mind ruled by instincts and the must-be truth-value of all of its physical perceptions, the fact that it was see- through indicated that there was no barrier, no physical bind to capture the little creature within the room. It must be panicked. Da'an attempted to imagine the panic of one who was trapped in an invisible concrete prison, yet not even being able to feel the sentiments of panic, or joy, or sadness. As were now Taelons. And as they were now cloistered in the prison limited by the perspective of their own extinguishing race.
This wall, mysterious, unknown, a barrier that it the insect could not understand the reasons of the presence of. And also, it could not understand what it did miss, freedom, what was beyond. It was merely restrained and ignored that it was being restrained, ignored that it was restrained, simply mechanically fighting against the restrains, moved by instincts. Pathetic. And, curiously, saddening.
Da'an found himself quietly wondering if the last Taelon alive would be panicked. if the last one of them when he would feel his death coming would feel panic, a feeling that no Taelons had ever felt. Uncontrollable fear, which shook the limbs, and made one's mind irrational, fairly quickly throwing it into the next plane. The last taelon, surviving amongst a dead commonality, listening to their unconscious whispers.
He prefered not to feel this panic himself.
Yet, the fly was still rhythmically tapping against the virtual glass. Everytime the insect brushed its surface, the energy turned colorful with blueish tones which faded rapidly into white, to then come back to their natural translucence.
Perhaps were the Taelons hitting a wall as well ? Perhaps was there no issue to the question they were asking to the universe ?
They would never know before discovering the limits of their prison. But this fly, Da'an thought as he waved the virtual glass barrier into nothingness, could be freed. His kind would never be, and the Humans would be tapping repeatedly against the wall of blinding and walling ignorance.
Nonetheless, Da'an found himself susprisingly capable of feeling a strange hint of relief and satisfaction as the fly fled, its wing creating this buzz-like noise in the air above the nearby gardens.
END