II
CHAPTER TWO
FLOW OF THE LIFESTREAM
Bugenhagen's Research Centre was a relatively chaotic huddle of buildings unlike anything else in Cosmo Canyon. It sat upon the highest flat of the mesa, alive with sound and movement. Everywhere Cloud looked, there was bustling activity: multi-coloured windchimes swung from the perimeter fencing; a chocobo-shaped anemometer lurched each time the mountain breeze changed direction; a handful of chickens paraded in a spacious coop by the edge of the cliff; and heatwaves sizzled on the solar panels that fed a power generator, an effective alternative to the Mako energy the world was so used to.
Despite the incredible panorama of the Valley from this vantage point, with its desert wastelands and sandstone spires that stretched as far as the horizon, the forecourt felt cramped. Unsurprising, Cloud had noted, when the plateau's diameter was less than one hundred feet across, but the facility claimed more than half of it. The dynamic was not helped by the absurdly large telescope that protruded overhead, blocking the afternoon sun from view.
The main observatory was a rotund, three-storey tower that occupied the northeast corner of the expanse. Adjoining it on one side was an elongated porchway, while on the other was a smaller extension whose roof was fashioned like a traditional mage's hat, topped by a spinning radar dish. From outside, the architecture seemed inconsistent at best, a mishmash of wood-and-brick construction that was reminiscent of the shanty villages in Midgar's Slums.
It did, however, boast an impressive feat of innovative engineering: the observatory's huge domed ceiling was capable of rotating and retracting as required, allowing the telescope unprecedented access to the skies.
"This…uh…this is it?" moaned Yuffie, last to emerge from the shade of the internal stairwell. As nomadic as she was, the Wusheng teenager had found it difficult to adjust to the searing temperatures; her cheeks had turned bright pink, and the fringe of her bobbed hair was matted to her forehead with sweat. "This is what y'all brought me up here to see?"
"Pipe down, ya big baby," Barret chided her, his grizzly face filled with awe as he gazed upon the Research Centre. "Folks from all 'round the Planet'd pay top gil to be where you're standin'."
"Whatever…" Yuffie snorted, pouting. "If they give me their money, they can have my spot."
Aerith flashed her an amused smile. "Well, I think it's wonderful!"
"Aye, I agree with the birthday girl," squeaked Cait Sith, brushing away the dust that had collected on his black and white fur. The little robotic cat had elected to leave his toysaurus at the Shildra Inn, and had rode on Tifa's shoulders instead for the steeper parts of the climb. "This's a sacred pilgrimage, lassie, an' dinnae forget it!"
"Geez, Louise," yielded the Ninja, "calm down, will ya?"
The ascent from the forum had not dampened the enthusiasm of Cloud's comrades. They were delighted by Bugenhagen's invite to the Planetarium, and had spent the morning relaxing and recuperating from their arduous trek. Barret in particular was beside himself with excitement; visiting the renowned home of the Study of Planetary Life had been an ambition of his since embracing AVALANCHE's ideologies. As a mark of respect, though, the dark-skinned giant had detached the chain-gun from the adaptor on his arm; there was no place for violence here.
Of the seven weary travellers, only Nanaki had decided against accompanying them; he wished to rest, and was already familiar with his grandfather's apparatus. A young boy named Skee had volunteered to guide them through the network of red stone passages. He was a talkative and opinionated lad, quick to declare how odd he considered their attire, or how close he was to discovering the mystery behind a sealed door somewhere. He had grinned with self-pride when he delivered them to the hollow that led up to the settlement's summit, holding out a palm as if to demand a reward. Tifa gave him a gil for his troubles, and he ran off abashed by her beauty.
The Research Centre was now a welcome respite from the hike. Crossing the yard, the party entered a slender corridor of simple decoration. Archaic electricity cables and lamps adorned the rough timber walls, and the floorboards were bare but for a worn tartan rug. The air inside carried a dry, musty smell, as there was no notable ventilation system.
The hallway widened after a short distance into an open-plan lounge and kitchenette area. In the far corner was a recess where some metal steps spiralled up towards the observatory, their frame ablaze with the sunlight that poured through the windows. Empty wine bottles and melted candlesticks were strewn on the dining table, attended by a selection of stools and upturned whiskey barrels. On the opposite side of the room was an outdated fridge and worktop-come-sink ensemble where an elderly woman was hastily washing up.
"…I need more help," she was complaining to herself. "Do they suppose I'm not already busy? Some of the most intelligent men on Gaia…you'd think they'd learn to clean up after themselves!""
"Uh…hello?" called Tifa.
The muttering maid peered around, and waved a cloth angrily at an adjacent doorway. "Bugenhagen's expecting you. Go on, it's unlocked."
Piling into the facility's extension, they were brought to a dimmed gallery with a very different ambience. It was crammed with unusual brass instruments used for stargazing and mapping the cosmos, as well as antique artefacts ranging from a ship's wheel to a gramophone and grand piano. A look of deep longing crept into Tifa's features when she saw the piano, its fine ivory keys triggering a childhood memory.
At the centre of the room, a mechanised podium blinked and emitted an electrical hum. Directly above it was a corresponding hole in the glass-panelled ceiling, permitting a view of the Planetarium. A state-of-the-art projection screen covered the interior of the mage's-hat roof – currently a dull shade of azure – and from it hung an extravagant mobile of planets.
Bugenhagen waited in silent meditation by the circular platform, robed in indigo and cross-legged on his floating medicine ball. Cloud cleared his throat to announce their arrival.
"Ho ho hoo, it's about time," the old man said with a jovial chuckle, opening his eyes and inspecting each of them in turn over his full-moon spectacles. In the low light, he seemed frailer than before, but no less eccentric. "You're all together? Good, good. Then, shall we begin?"
"Professor Bugenhagen," panted Barret, pushing between Cloud and Aerith, and almost trampling on Cait Sith in the process, "I jus' wanted to tell you how much o' an honour it is to meet you in person."
Bugenhagen bowed humbly. "Ho ho hoo, the honour is mine, my large friend. Anyone seeking to protect this Planet is welcome at Cosmo Canyon."
"Thank you."
"Now, come, all of you," bade the elder, gesturing for them to board the podium. "Stand here, please."
As instructed, the six took their places on the contraption, while Bugenhagen drifted across to a wall-mounted console and pressed a few buttons. The lamps suddenly died and, with a buzz of power, the chamber overhead transformed. A glowing reproduction of every constellation Cloud had ever known appeared on the projection screen, and the mobile became a holographic display of the solar system.
"Well, ain't that somethin'?" exhaled Barret, fascinated.
Returning to the others, Bugenhagen activated the platform's controls, and with a shrill whir, they were elevated into the Planetarium.
"It's so pretty…" stammered Aerith as she stepped onto the glass floor, gaping at the multitude of nebula formations.
"Just like the real thing," Tifa added absently.
"I gotta hand it to ya," admitted Yuffie, momentarily dropping her bored demeanour, "y'all've surprised me."
"Ho ho hoo, this is my laboratory," said Bugenhagen, clicking a device under his dagged sleeves. At once, crimson rings materialised above them, indicating the course each of the nine planets would orbit the sun. "My life's toil, decades of observations on the movement of the stars, all the workings of space…it's all been entered into this program. A three-dimensional model of the known universe."
Slowly, his ball ascended to the suspended sun at the middle of the room. With another click, the hidden arms of the mobile began to rotate at varying speeds, causing the planets and their moons to cruise along their appropriate rings. The classical designations of the nine escorted them like halos of elegant lettering: Hermes, Aphrodite, Gaia, Ares, Zeus, Cronus, Caelus, Poseidon and Orcus.
The chamber was soon busy with activity and colour, as mesmeric and hypnotic as the galaxies themselves. There was a thrum of electricity as the projector started a new holographic sequence, and a golden comet streaked across the dome, bypassing the asteroid belt that had clustered between two of the outer rings, and careering off into a distant black hole.
"Look!" gasped Tifa, pointing as a second shooting star zoomed past. "This is amazing!"
"Whoa!" Barret murmured.
"It's a bit overwhelmin'," remarked Cait Sith, his tiny crown lopsided as he admired the beauty of the presentation.
"Yes, it is impressive, isn't it?" agreed Bugenhagen. He hovered leisurely amid the globes, tilting back and forth to keep his balance. "Even if I do say so myself, ho ho hoo."
"What do you use it for?" asked Cloud.
"Many things," he replied wistfully. "Yes, many things. But, for visitors like you, it is a visual aid to my lectures. So, let's get right onto the matter at hand. Which of you are familiar with the term 'Spirit Energy'?"
Both Barret and Aerith raised their hands, while Yuffie seemed too preoccupied by the display to notice the question. Tifa glanced over at Cloud, hoping she was not alone in her ignorance. He shrugged: it was something he had heard Aerith mention, but that was the extent of his understanding.
"No clue," confessed Cait Sith.
"Ho ho hoo, let me explain, then." Bugenhagen waited for one of the larger planets to sail by before proceeding. It was Cronus, the reddish world easily identified by the thin ring around it. "Eventually, all humans die. We are taught this from a very young age. But, what happens to us after we die? The body decomposes, and returns to the Planet. Ho ho hoo, that much everyone knows. What about our consciousness, though? Our essence? Our soul? The answer is that our spiritual self, too, returns to the Planet."
"Returns to the Planet?" Cloud recalled his conversation with Elmyra the night Sector7 had collapsed, and how she had used the phrase as a euphemism for death. Its exact meaning was as unclear now as it had been back then.
"This is how the process is described in the Chronicles of Yore," the scholar enlightened them, "a millennia-old Cetran text that was discovered in a waterfall cave around forty years ago by two Shinra scientists. And it makes reference not only to the Cetra and humans, ho ho hoo, but to everything on the Planet. In fact, all living things in the universe are the same: the souls that return to the Planet merge with one another, flowing deep within the earth. They roam, converge, and divide like the currents of a river…becoming a great swell called the Lifestream."
Spreading his arms, Bugenhagen gesticulated in a wave pattern. "Ho ho hoo, in other words, the Lifestream is the collective of all the Spirit Energy that exists beyond tangible life, perpetually circling the Planet. It is at the very heart of our studies and philosophies, and something you should never forget.
"Whenever a child – or any new life – is brought into this world, they are blessed with Spirit Energy. Then, when the time comes for them to die, that same morsel of Spirit Energy will return to the Planet and re-join the Lifestream having grown in knowledge, and the cycle continues. This is the way of the world, and of the universe."
He paused. "Of course, there are exceptions, ho ho hoo…"
"Materia, right?" The pieces of the puzzle were slowly fitting together for Cloud. Even as he said it, he was transported to the mysterious grotto high on Mount Nibel where he, Tifa and Sephiroth had once stumbled upon a crystallised fountain.
"Materia is one example," conceded Bugenhagen, catching Yuffie's gaze as she was roused from her daydream. Stroking his whiskers, he floated again across the model solar system, settling next to the shining sphere that depicted the sun. "For the Lifestream to function correctly, it must be in constant motion. When it's trapped and left to stagnate, its properties can become quite destructive, as an old friend of mine learned at a terrible price.
"Materia, on the other hand, literally has a mind of its own. It occurs in its rare natural state when strands of rogue Spirit Energy conform to a set of very delicate conditions. The process can take decades, even centuries, ho ho hoo; it depends on the Will of the Spirit Energy."
"Its Will?" Yuffie's brows furrowed. "Like…it thinks for itself?"
"In a way," Bugenhagen measured his response. "Materia contains fragments of consciousness, of someone or something that returned to the Planet long ago. When we engage with Materia, we say we're drawing on the wisdom of the Cetra. But, what does that really mean? Well, so strong was the Cetra's bond with the Planet that they could control the elements and perform supernatural feats through methods unfathomable by our sciences. To use magic, we tap into that same power, channelling the condensed knowledge and memories of a precise strand of Spirit Energy stored in the crystal. There are even those that achieved immortality by deliberately preserving their consciousness this way."
"No…" Aerith's jaw dropped as she fumbled at the breast pocket of her jacket, pulling out a silver pendant that bore a ruby orb approximately two inches in diameter. "You're talking about Aeons!"
"Ho ho hoo," Bugenhagen chortled, bowing appreciatively. "Nothing gets past this audience, I see. Yes, they are another exemption to the universal rules that govern the Lifestream: each Aeon is a fragment of a primordial being, or 'God' to those of faith. In essence, anything with a resolute enough Will may refuse to merge with the Lifestream, retaining its individuality among an ocean of spirits. This can be true for any organic entity, even for the Planet itself."
Cloud was sceptical. "The Planet is conscious?"
"Oh yes," said the elderly professor, gesturing to Aerith. "I expect it should have been obvious with a Geomancer in your midst."
"Planet reading isn't so straight forward," the young Cetra defended her companions, but hesitated as if she doubted her own stance. She frowned pensively, staring down at her Summon Materia and caressing the plaited locks of her long chestnut hair as she struggled to elaborate on her experiences. "Sometimes its messages are clear; sometimes they're muffled by the outside world; sometimes it seems like there are a thousand secrets being whispered in my ear at the same time. And sometimes it feels like I'm speaking with a force that acts on instinct alone."
"Ho ho hoo, you're not wrong," countered Bugenhagen, "but I, too, have heard the cries of the Planet. They transcend sentience on a scale that exceeds human comprehension. Our ancestors simplified the concept by embodying the Planet's Will; such was the basis of modern religion."
"I read 'bout this before!" Barret exclaimed, thrilled to be making a contribution. "Minerva Theory, aye?"
Bugenhagen nodded thoughtfully. "Many believe the Goddess Minerva to be a manifestation of the Lifestream, carrying out the Will of the Planet. Others worship her as a deity in her own right – the Reigning God, they call her – similar to the primordial divinities. Ho ho hoo, some even consider Minerva to dwell in the physical world, and expeditions to the remote caverns of the Northern Continent have been undertaken in search of her."
"Isn't all that inconsistent with your research, though?" posed Tifa.
"On the contrary," Bugenhagen suggested, "I think faith and science go hand in hand on this matter: both recognise the existence of a higher consciousness, and the overall importance of Spirit Energy. However, we have digressed. Our attention must turn now to a more serious subject, one that I have already discussed with the soldier of fortune."
"Who?" Cait Sith's feline nose screwed up in bewilderment.
"He means me," muttered Cloud.
"Ah," squeaked the robot, snapping his gloved fingers as if he had solved the riddle himself. "So, whit's yer big reveal, eh?"
Bugenhagen inhaled deeply, a curious expression forming on his face as he peered at the company of six. At last, he replied, but his voice had lost its usual joviality. "This planet…our world…will soon die."
But for the hum of electricity, the chamber fell into complete silence. Barret and Tifa's features were a blend of horror and sadness, confronted by a hard truth they had always suspected as freedom fighters, one which Aerith appeared to have long since accepted. Nevertheless, Bugenhagen's words hung over them like a crushing weight.
This was shattered in an instant, though, when Yuffie erupted in a fit of giggles. The others ogled her incredulously as she doubled over laughing, slapping her knees in hysterics. Gradually, it dawned on the teen that this was not a joke, and she tried to compose herself.
"Wait…" Yuffie wheezed, her bandanna slipping across her eyes, "you for real, old man?"
"Ho ho hoo, as real as all the stars in the sky," Bugenhagen answered gently. "Perhaps you'll understand better if you watch this…"
From his position by the sun, he observed the trajectories of the planets Hermes and Ares on respective sides of Gaia's model. He paused until enough space had opened between the trio before halting the mobile's gyration, swooping around the small, greyish Hermes.
As he approached Gaia, the lights of the dome dimmed, making the globe the focal point of the Planetarium. The hologram of its surface swelled to six feet in diameter, suspended at the centre of the room. Dark lines of longitude and latitude became etched across its sapphire oceans and emerald continents, highlighting the desert country that must have represented the Valley of the Fallen Star.
Coming to rest an arm's length from the buzzing sphere, Bugenhagen clicked his device again, prompting an animation on the display. It showed a number of spruce trees popping up at random sites, and among them strolled the sprite of a man. When he reached what may have been Midgar on the map, he stopped, and his figure dissolved into a flurry of jade green particles. One of the spruces followed suit, its current snaking over the planet and entwining with the first strand. As the two merged, the translucent particles turned a brighter shade of green, and from their union arose another human sprite.
"Spirit Energy makes all things possible," Bugenhagen said as the simulation evolved: the holographic trees and figures were now systematically diffusing and winding their way across Gaia, assimilating and creating life, then repeating the cycle for each new generation. "The fish in the sea; the birds in the air; every man, woman and child that has ever walked the land. And not just for plants and animals, either: Spirit Energy is responsible for the formation of entire planets. It is the architect and very fabric of our universe. But, what would happen if that Spirit Energy were to disappear?"
Holding out a dagged sleeve, the animated currents slowly began to wither, drawn to Bugenhagen's palm as if were a vacuum. As the Spirit Energy evaporated, it left behind a barren world that continued to blacken until it crumbled and fell to pieces.
"Oh no…" Yuffie gasped.
"It would be the end of life as we know it," concluded Bugenhagen, gazing down at the party, his moustache twitching. "Ho ho hoo, this is not a new concept, however: the Cetra wrote about such an eventuality in the Chronicles of Yore, beautifully summed up here in an old research thesis that was rejected by the Shinra Science Department."
There was a click, and the recording of a woman's voice filtered through overhead speakers:
"Just as we return to the Planet when our lifelight has faded, the Planet returns to the cosmos when her time has come. Anything that has definite shape will one day cease to exist. The same is true for this world. Before she takes her final breath, the pure Lifestream that flows freely beneath her crust will be brought together into one…and all that will remain will be an empty shell, destined to die silently in the limitless void of space."
"These are the fundamentals of the Study of Planetary Life."
With another whir of activity, normal lighting was restored, and the solar system resumed its orbit along the crimson rings. Tucking his sleeves back into his robe, Bugenhagen drifted down to where his guests stood dumbfounded.
"Just so we're clear," Cloud managed after a few moments, "you're saying that if the Spirit Energy is lost, the Planet will be destroyed? And the Planet's Will has prepared for that?"
"Ho ho hoo," the elder chuckled, "the Lifestream is efficient because it exists within nature on the grandest of scales. It is the essence of the universe, and has been for billions of years, expanding from a single concentrated mass of Spirit Energy. The cosmos will ultimately beckon home our planet's Lifestream, reallocating it as it sees fit. That day is fast approaching, because humans have accelerated the process. When Spirit Energy is forcefully extracted, it can't accomplish its intended purpose."
Cloud nodded, comprehending. "Mako energy, right?"
"A fancy name to disguise its true form." Bugenhagen shifted on his medicine ball. "The Shinra Corporation has never been shy on misinformation. Yes, every day, Mako Reactors suck Spirit Energy from the rivers that run below the earth, diminishing the Planet's reserves. Each time it gets compressed to produce electricity, we lose a strand of the Lifestream that can never be replaced. In other words, the souls and accumulated memories of all living things are being used up and thrown away."
"But, aren't there more ways to harvest electricity?" Aerith pointed out. "Clean and renewable ways?"
"Certainly," confirmed Bugenhagen, "but these are not nearly as cost effective. When Shinra Manufacturing Works – as they were known back then – discovered Mako energy in [μ]-εγλ 1959, they essentially obliterated the coal and gas industries. Fossil fuels like those required huge workforces to locate, extract and distribute, and could not compete with the innovative Reactor facilities.
"Despite the constant pollution, the population would still prefer to depend on Shinra's cheap electricity to power their homes and vehicles, rather than invest in solar or wind energy as we have done in Cosmo Canyon. Even the oil fields to the north have been abandoned. Little do they realise that the cost to everyone will be far greater than they could possibly imagine."
"An' Shinra know exactly what they're doing?" Yuffie was disgusted by the revelation.
"'Course they do," Barret growled. "They jus' don't give a damn! All they care 'bout is makin' easy gil, an' to hell with the consequences."
"Gods, I hate them so much!" she hissed, stamping her boots like a petulant child.
"Are ye sure?" asked Cait Sith, scratching the fur between his ears. "I mean…it seems awfully irresponsible."
"President Shinra was aware of this inconvenient truth long before the first Reactor was constructed," Bugenhagen claimed, rolling his eyes. "Convincing the world that Mako is an everyday necessity was his legacy, and his insatiable greed has doomed the Planet. Ho ho hoo, you need only consider the wastelands that surround the facilities to glimpse how damaging its effects are. And I'm not just referring to the sprawling, infertile landscapes: Reactors disrupt the flow of the Lifestream, distorting the environmental balance and causing overexposure of Mako. This has resulted in mutations among the local wildlife in several regions, turning them into feral monsters. And it will only get worse."
"Isn't there a way we can halt the process, or even reverse it?" proposed Tifa, her tone anxious. "Wasn't that AVALANCHE's goal?"
"I'm afraid, by my calculations, we reached a critical level of Mako consumption over a decade ago," the scholar replied ruefully. "We have long since passed the point of no return. Neither the peaceful nor militant branches of AVALANCHE had a chance of slowing the decay. You could sabotage every last Reactor on the Planet, and it would do nothing but postpone the inevitable."
"That don't mean we ain't gonna try," contended Barret. He clenched his fist determinedly, pounding it on the adaptor where his minigun usually resided. "I got me some promises to keep. To Marlene. To Biggs, Wedge an' Jessie…"
"Our mission is to defeat Sephiroth," Cloud reminded the group. "It makes no difference what's going to happen to the Planet, he still has to answer for his crimes."
"Ho ho hoo, at least now you have less to lose." A satirical smile flitted across Bugenhagen's features as he addressed the surviving AVALANCHE members. "But, alas, we must draw this presentation to a close. Please watch your footing as we descend to the gallery."
With a clunk, the mechanised podium beneath them began to lower, and the lights of the Planetarium faded to their original state. The party's senses were again greeted by the sounds and smells of the Research Centre's extension, and the flicker of electricity on the apparatus' controls. As they settled inside the chamber, Bugenhagen hovered over to the console and shut it down with a sequence of switches.
"Thank you, Professor," Barret said as he stepped from the platform, bowing. "That was an education."
"You are welcome, my friends," he acknowledged, reciprocating the bow and waving farewell. "If you wish to know more, I'd recommend attending some of the seminars hosted at the Cosmo Candle, and listen to my colleagues, ho ho hoo. There is an extraordinary amount to be learned from the history of the Planet, and of its inhabitants. I'm sure Elders Bugah and Hargo would even be delighted to grant you a private audience; they are most eager to meet Aerith."
"Me?" spluttered the flower girl.
Bugenhagen grinned. "Ho ho hoo, obviously: those two have dedicated their lives to studying the Cetra, but have never met one. I expect your presence here is the pinnacle of their distinguished careers."
"I hope I don't disappoint, then" she mumbled sincerely, following the others from the room.
"Cloud," Bugenhagen called after them, "before you leave, might I have a quick word?"
Hesitating, Cloud crossed the gallery to where the old man waited by his contraption. On a shelf to his left, one of the brass stargazing instruments emitted an odd chime which echoed off the glass ceiling. Bugenhagen tutted disapprovingly under his breath at the antique device.
"What's up?" asked the blonde mercenary.
"I've been brooding on a matter all morning," he responded, almost apologetically. "I don't intend to pry, but during your journey with Nanaki, did he ever speak of his parents?"
Cloud shrugged, pondering the question. "He doesn't talk much about his past. When we arrived here, though, he did tell us his mother fought and died in the village."
"Ho ho hoo, did he, now?" Bugenhagen's brows furrowed behind his full-moon spectacles, and he caressed his whiskers as if in deep contemplation. "No mention of his father?"
"I don't think so. Is something wrong?"
The aging scholar shook his head. "No, it is just time for him to learn the truth…"
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