*I*N*F*I*L*T*R*A*T*I*O*N*
"Volos! Napir!" A young Cetra man ran towards them as they rode their chocobos towards Volos-Cetra's family home in the capital city. "Thank Odin you're back! The Elders were getting worried."
The One Self observed with the remote eyes and ears of its appendages, its avatar-scouts Napir and Volos. Connected through constant, underlying aetheric communion, acting as one great organism, they were all one being, but also capable of independent action. They could mimic perfectly the mannerisms and interactions of the original Cetra they had replaced.
Through them, the One Self learned, and it associated what it learned with the memories it had stolen.
Ratih. Cousin, younger brother of Volos-Cetra, both sons of Losna-Mother-Cetra, female-sibling-sister to Napir-Cetra's mother, Mlande-Mother-Cetra. Ratih. Ratih-Cetra. Two years younger than Napir-Cetra, one year younger than Volos-Cetra. Seventeen years old? Seventeen Planet years old. Considered adult but still very young by Cetra standards.
"Why?" Napir asked, exchanging an identical glance with Volos and dismounting from his yellow chocobo. "What's happened?"
"You're late! More clan representatives have arrived. They're all arguing, and the Planet's no help. All anyone has managed to understand so far is that some meteorite fell from the sky and injured it badly."
"Badly doesn't begin to describe it. The meteorite was huge. It made a crater so gigantic and gouged so deep we couldn't measure it. The Lifestream is literally hemorrhaging into it."
"The Elders say the Planet is calling upon Shiva's power to seal it up by freezing it," Ratih-Cetra said.
The One Self noted that information with interest. From its new memories, it knew Shiva was an aspect of the Lifestream of unknown origin that wielded the power to create cold and ice. The Planet was using ice and cold in an attempt to staunch the flow of Lifestream into the crater, where it was easily accessible for feeding. It explained the growing cold in the crater. Extreme cold triggered hibernation during journeys through the Void. It was something to be avoided during the growth phase on a planet. The One Self would need to discourage the Planet's efforts if it couldn't move to a new source of quintessence.
Volos swung down from his mount and handed his reins to Ratih-Cetra. "That makes sense. The area is getting colder. We could feel it even for the short time we were there."
"Short?" Ratih-Cetra gaped at him. "You two were gone for almost a month. We expected you back at least a week ago. Look at how many others have arrived." He gestured to the open fields outside the city and leading to a great forest. Multitudes of chocobos grazed and jostled one another. "The council's practically given up on hearing from you guys. They're really worried. Some people are talking about heading north to find you. Everyone will be relieved to hear you're finally back."
Awareness of time as experienced by the Cetra was still a problem. The One Self needed to understand better, become more attuned with the Cetra's measurement of time. It had been thorough when sorting through the Napir- and Volos-Cetra's memories and knowledge, with perfecting their forms and behaviors, but it had clearly taken too long.
"It's a long way from there to here," Napir said.
"Maybe if you were on foot. Not that long by chocobo, but I know you have a rotten sense of direction," Ratih-Cetra returned with a smile. "Admit it, you got lost, didn't you? Anyway, the council says the Planet is really upset about something. Your mother says so, too."
"It's upset about bleeding out, perhaps?" Volos said, mimicking sarcasm perfectly. "I would be."
"It's more than that. Whatever the problem is, it's got the Planet pretty much incoherent. The Elders say it won't stop yelling. I'm glad I've never been that sensitive to it." Ratih-Cetra took the reins from Napir. "I'll take your chocobos to the stables. You'd better head straight to Mom's house to check in."
"And to get a bath and change clothes," Volos said, wrinkling his nose. The One Self had learned that bathing and cleanliness were important social considerations for the Cetra.
Ratih-Cetra laughed. "That's a good idea. You'll probably be dragged into the council chambers fast enough and you two both look like filthy ragamuffins right now."
Volos and Napir turned to one another with exactly the same expression and shrugged in perfect unison.
Ratih-Cetra gave them an odd look. "You guys spend way too much time together. It makes you act kind of strange sometimes," he commented as he led their mounts away.
Volos and Napir gave another unified shrug and walked to the Volos-Cetra's family-group dwelling. The Volos-Cetra's parents—Losna-Mother-Female and Glav-Father-Male—met them at the door.
"Volos, my son! Thank goodness you're all right," said Losna-Mother-Cetra. She wrapped her arms around Volos in a hug. "Welcome home!"
Now to begin, the One Self decided. Volos returned her embrace, deliberately touching the bare skin of her arms, pressing his face against the skin of her cheek.
Microtubules formed, sliding through Losna-Cetra's outer skin layers to the living cells beneath, connecting her to Volos. The One Self generated the microscopic non-metabolizing, non-alive replication machines and filled them with appropriate genetic material, then passed them through the tubules. There was plenty of time. Volos-Cetra's memories told it that Losna-Cetra enjoyed hugging her son.
After the genetic material had been passed on successfully via the microscopic replication machines, Volos extracted himself from his mother's embrace, the tubules breaking their connections and retracting back into Volos's form. With the initial infection completed, now this world's mechanisms would incorporate the new genetic material into Losna-Cetra's own.
Convenient.
The new alterations to Cetra genetics were a superior technique for removing the Cetra population than the process of absorbing and replacing them. That was too slow. With the replication machines, a single avatar-copy could pass on the new genetics to many Cetra in a single day. The genetic modifications not only allowed the One Self to mutate them at will, but they also caused sterility. No infected Cetra would be capable of reproduction, a benefit in that it would serve to reduce their numbers over time. An infected Cetra's lifespan should also be reduced, but the One Self had no way to determine by how much. Half, at least, but other than that, it could not calculate.
Infected individuals weren't part of the greater whole. They were still individual Cetra, with intelligence and strong wills of their own, unlike the tiny life forms the One Self had experimented on. The One Self could trigger mutations in them, could influence and even command them to a limited extent, but it couldn't see or hear through them and they were not part of aetheric communion. Cell distribution, or even full absorption and replacement, was still necessary. In the meantime, genetic infection was a much more efficient means of annihilating their collective. It was expedient, and required insignificant expenditures of effort, energy, and biomass.
"Goodness," Losna-Mother-Cetra exclaimed, rubbing her face and arms. "You're so filthy you're positively sticky! Get in the house and take a bath, both of you! Honestly, now I need a bath, too. Napir, your mother is occupied with council business, but I've got some fresh clothes ready for you, too. I'll let everyone know you're back. The council's going to want to talk to you as soon as they can convene. It'll probably take them an hour or so to get organized, so you have some time, unless you have something to tell that shouldn't wait."
The connections and methods used to pass genetic material should not have been so noticeable. The One Self would need to use fewer connections to remain undetected.
"An hour won't matter," Napir said calmly. "Things are happening at the new crater, but slowly enough. It's not an emergency."
"It's already waited a month. Obviously another hour shouldn't make a difference," Glav-Father-Cetra remarked pragmatically—or was that sarcasm? The One Self had used sarcasm with Ratih-Cetra, but when directed at itself—there were subtleties to Cetra interactions that it might have trouble distinguishing. It needed to be careful.
Both parents fussed a great deal over Volos and Napir's dirty physical conditions and pushed them into the house. As they were herded towards the bathing area, the One Self took the opportunity to examine the living quarters.
A dwelling designed like others in the city—stylish, according to Volos-Cetra's memories—in the shape of a giant sea shell. Losna- and Glav-Cetra's was a spiral structure—Snail? Snail—with decorative frills along the outer curves. It gleamed pure white in the bright sunshine. Aquatic shell-based architecture was popular among the Cetra, at least among those that dwelled in their capital city. The interior was a rising spiral that curled around a central axis, a physical pillar that was broader at the bottom and tapered as it rose. Sleeping—Sleeping? Dormancy? Dormancy for regeneration—quarters were arranged in the upper levels. Regular living areas in the middle. Bathing and storage areas on the lowest levels.
It was built to look like it had been grown organically. The two assimilated Cetras' memories gave no indication of how it had been constructed. Volos-Cetra hadn't cared enough to pay attention to details. Building construction wasn't among his interests. It was simply his home from birth. Likewise, Napir-Cetra's memories provided little useful information. The One Self decided that it didn't matter. Its primary concern was with eliminating the Cetra species, not analysis of their dwellings or other inanimate constructions.
Bathing and dressing in clean clothes were simple affairs, rote mechanical activities that Volos-Cetra and Napir-Cetra had performed every day when alive. Once in private, the two copies simply absorbed their outer coverings back into their biomasses, and then after bathing put on the fresh clothes.
When they returned to the family-group, they were fed by Volos-Cetra's father: a quick, cold meal of vegetables and some cooked animal protein. The meal fulfilled the need for chemical sustenance, but not the requirement for additional quintessence. Volos and Napir could manage for a while longer before needing to feed on life essence, but the One Self hadn't noticed any direct Lifestream sources in the general area. Lacking that, its avatar-scouts would soon need to hunt live prey to obtain their internally circulating quintessence.
Plants and small animals would do in the short term, but Cetra prey would be far better.
The everyday activities of the Cetra were becoming more normal to the One Self. It understood more through its two avatar-scouts as they interacted with Volos-Cetra's parents, applying memories and behavior more and more naturally, growing into identity. The Cetra, even close family-group members like parents, were easily duped. Hunting should be a simple activity.