A note on updating: I'm not sure how XT is handling this, but I'm following my usual procedure of posting each chapter as it is completed, with one modification. In order to avoid cross-contamination between our stories while still providing each other with feedback, XT and I wait to read new chapters until AFTER posting our own. We'll try to coordinate things so updates to each story happen at about the same time.
Given my typical update schedule, I'll most likely be setting the pace for this project. Direct any impatience at me rather than XT.
Chapter II – Mechanics
Needless to say, I was surprised.
My original mission in this universe was, and had always been, to prevent or reverse Cosmo's death; that she could have survived without my intervention wasn't something I ever considered. It changed everything.
Let me be clear: there was never an inherent need for me to take action, at least as far as I could predict. Self-consistency only applies to events within a single iteration of a single universe; I leave my past work behind me with every jump, wiping the slate clean of all but my own memories. No, what startled me about what I had just witnessed was that it not only happened of its own accord, but was perfectly consistent with my knowledge of the first iteration. All throughout the years I spent working my magic on Möbius, these same events could have occurred right under my sensors.
What was a reality-warper to do? One impulsive moment, and fluctuations, duplications, annihilations, and paradoxes of every conceivable variety and many more besides could be set into motion. To think I had been meandering around the multiverse, changing lives and reshaping history, for the equivalent of several centuries... There were too many implications to calculate.
All of which only confirmed my reasons for coming back at all: I needed to study and refine my technique.
Then and there – around Y+160,000 Forestation and on the fringe of the Large Magellanic Cloud, respectively; I didn't want to attract attention – I decided to watch things play out before making my move. After double-checking my figures and working through the necessary calculations, I kicked off, getting the first real use in ages out of my gravitic thruster. Meanwhile, the asteroid I had been resting on gave a fantastic demonstration of why I didn't use it more often.
Within seconds, everything was tinted by my speed: bright blue ahead, deep red to the rear. I let off on the thruster and coasted, maintaining a tiny fraction of motive power to push through the interstellar medium. To the left, my sensors spotted a thin arch of brightly lit cloud – the day side of a gas giant. I clocked it as I passed and determined that I was tolerably close to my predicted velocity of 98.5666 percent (repeating, of course) of the speed of light.
The best part? I could still see everything.
Where am I? was Cosmo's first thought. She frowned, recalling her most recent memories – memories of another life. Wait... that was real? She turned the question over in her mind. It must have been. I'm here, right?
It occurred to her to open her eyes; a vast field of stars and glowing nebulae met her vision. For a moment, she wondered whether the last time could have been a dream – whether, indeed, she could have been dreaming still. She discarded that idea quickly; if neither memory were real, she would be dead and unable to consider the problem. Besides- Abruptly, the sensation of spinning through empty space flashed through her mind. She shuddered. There's no way I imagined that.
This resolved, Cosmo turned her head forward – or was it upward? – and saw a narrow stripe of total darkness cutting across the backdrop of stars. She gripped it with her hand and felt soft fabric, partially covering a mat of coarse, strong fibers. She remembered what it was without conscious effort: a tether, improvised from a portion of her dress.
"Shadow?" she called. Her voice sounded surprisingly close, as if she were indoors; the void swallowed up sound like thick carpet or soil, returning no echoes.
"Hm?" The cord jerked slightly as Shadow turned toward her, secured to its far end. A cyan glow appeared over his shoulder. For a moment, Cosmo thought she saw complex patterns forming and shifting within the Chaos Emerald's depths; seconds later, the radiance subsided somewhat into a faint, stable glow.
"Where are we?" Cosmo asked, more to fill the space than anything; she had mainly wanted to confirm beyond doubt that her memories were real.
"Farther," Shadow replied. He grabbed the tether and pulled himself around to face her. After a few seconds of silence, he held the Emerald at chest level and stared at it intently. Cosmo looked around – only the brightest stars were visible now – and tried in vain to spot something familiar. The densest regions, as before, were in the direction from which they had come – the galactic core.
A sudden thought occurred to her. "Shadow, how are we breathing?" she asked, turning back to her fellow traveler.
Shadow blinked as if coming out of a reverie. "I have us shielded so that everything we breathe out is contained, and this," he indicated the Emerald, "takes care of the inverse reactions. I do it to myself unconsciously; extending it to you isn't difficult."
"Talking, too?" she asked. The hedgehog shook his head.
"Pay attention. Can you really hear me right now?"
Cosmo hesitated. His voiced, she realized then, sounded directionless, as if it came from all around her. "The shield?" she ventured.
"Correct."
He returned his attention to the Emerald. "What do you think is going to happen to us?" Cosmo asked after a pause. Shadow looked up again.
"I'm working on it," he answered, suddenly sounding mildly annoyed. "If you have any more questions, ask them now; I need to concentrate."
"I'm so-" Cosmo stopped, catching the look Shadow gave her. "No, that's all," she said instead. After a few moments, Shadow broke eye contact and resumed staring at the glowing gem. Cosmo watched with interest. A minute or so later, she realized the glow had brightened again and the strange fluctuating patterns had returned. Shadow watched them with rapt attention, murmuring inaudibly, his eyes flitting back and forth as if reading meaning in the lights. Cosmo watched as well, becoming entranced by the motions. They were erratic and never repeated themselves exactly, and yet there was a subtle logic and regularity governing them, a rhythm felt rather than observed. It transfixed her, drawing her in until she perceived its full depth – multiple layers and dimensions of meaning, all seemingly just beyond her reach.
Eventually some kind of threshold was crossed; the patterns' tempo quickened, gaining strength, building on itself, advancing toward a goal. Cosmo leaned forward unconsciously, intently, as the activity rose to a peak... and was abruptly pulled away with a sense of disruption much greater than the actual movement itself. Shadow had raised the Emerald and directed its bottommost tip at a point somewhere ahead of them, apparently gazing straight through the crystal matrix.
"There."
Cosmo shook her head, dispelling the mild trance her mind had fallen into, and looked in the direction of Shadow's arm. He could have been pointing at any of several dozen stars. "Um..." she began, not sure whether she would still be interrupting.
"Our destination," Shadow answered her unspoken question. Without further explanation, he tugged on the cord and set himself drifting toward her, undoing his own tether. Cosmo decided not to ask what he was planning, but allowed herself to be maneuvered by the occasional push or steadying hold. After a number of minutes, Shadow had turned the tether into a complicated harness, apparently designed to keep Cosmo's limbs and clothing from moving more than a few inches from her body.
"What's this for?" she asked when Shadow appeared finished. It struck her that Shadow was no longer attached to her, only holding onto the cord's free end.
"Mechanics." He didn't elaborate. Gripping the last of the strip in both hands, he pulled it across its width. The fabric parted with a ripping sound, forming a net of partially woven strings stretched between the tougher supporting fibers. This became a fist-sized sling into which Shadow placed his Emerald.
"Listen carefully," the hedgehog began. "It's important that you stay more or less the same shape you are now, or this isn't going to work. Keep your back and legs straight. If you move your arms, use only your elbows. Don't try to adjust the harness."
"Where are you going?" Cosmo interrupted, suddenly nervous. She didn't want to be left alone again – not out here, where, unlike on any planet, the emptiness was real.
Shadow handed her the Emerald's sling. "Can you hear that?" he inquired, not answering her question.
Cosmo didn't answer; a flicker of activity within the crystal had distracted her. It wasn't like it had been before; the motion was formless and fluid, conveying simple thoughts and feelings. I am here, it said. Who are you? She wasn't sure how to reply. After what seemed like a long time, the Seedrian remembered Shadow's question and gave a slow nod, never taking her eyes off of the gem.
"Listen to it," she heard as if from a great distance. "Do as it says. It'll keep you safe."
With an effort of will that felt like pulling herself out of water, Cosmo turned away from the Emerald to see Shadow moving toward her feet. "When are you coming back?" she asked. She wasn't afraid anymore, strangely, but she thought she ought to know.
"In time," was Shadow's only reply. He maneuvered into a crouch with his feet against hers. "Lock your knees and keep still; we only get one shot." Realizing what he planned to do, Cosmo obeyed, bracing for the coming acceleration.
Shadow remained still, moving his head very slightly like a metronome – counting seconds. Just as Cosmo began to wonder if he was having second thoughts, he tensed and – with considerably less force than she expected – sprang into deep space, propelling both of them silently toward their targets.
During my first stay on Möbius, I was intrigued by the collection of techniques known as "Chaos Control" and their potential to seemingly redefine reality. I devoted considerable thought and study to the phenomenon, thinking that if I could extract the fundamentals of the process, I could crack the very deepest puzzles of life and the multiverse.
In summary, I never fully succeeded. However, my investigations did uncover a lot of relationships that weren't obvious at first glance. For one, it seems that while the technology – for, as strange as Chaos Control is, it has the mark of intelligent design – is poorly understood, the effects are easier to duplicate. There must be a supply of energy, the means to convert it, and a controller able to direct this conversion.
Sounds simple, right? The problem seems to be the enormous amount of detail that has to be handled by the controller. Nothing less than an organic computer – a brain – has ever managed it that I know of, and the digital computers used to handle such massive energy supplies are notoriously bad at interfacing with them.
From my research, there seem to be three primary methods for making Chaos Control work. The first is to make the controller as straightforward as possible, so it can be toggled by a simple analog process, like a switch. The main problem with these devices is that their functions have to be correspondingly simple; the user typically doesn't have much more freedom than "on" or "off." Besides, very few such converters can handle the magnitudes of power involved, and even they have to be produced through reverse engineering. They do have their uses, though, particularly when built into more traditional machines.
The second and most iconic method is to use a converter designed specifically to interface with organic computers. The device links directly with the user, who acts as the controller. From what I've gathered, this is how the Chaos Emeralds operate. However, the formula for these converters is extremely complex; even the best imitations have to be copied directly from real Emeralds. These copies fall short without exception, only surviving a few minutes of use before disintegrating.
The final method is sketchy at best; my knowledge is based entirely on a handful of witnesses. It seems that, with training and the proper constitution, a user can act as a converter as well as a controller and perform Chaos Control with nothing but raw energy to work from. It's easy to see how this could be faked; on the other hand, it has appealing theoretical implications.
You see, the behavior of the Chaos Emeralds – the only known "true" organic interfaces – is exotic and, mathematically speaking, random. I've met people who claim to understand how they tick, and a few have demonstrated it well enough to convince me it isn't pure chance. Try as I might, I can't match them. The Emeralds perplex me like no machine ever has – no machine, that is, except one.
Can you guess?
Somewhere deep in a gap between galactic arms, a massive object hurtled through interstellar space with untold speed, creating only the slightest of disturbances in the diffuse gas clouds through which it passed. It emitted almost no radiation; indeed, it very nearly qualified as one more tiny blip among the seas of baryonic dark matter that filled the space between star systems. These clouds contained the mass of about a million hydrogen atoms per cubic meter – a hard vacuum in comparison to a planet's atmosphere, but still hundreds of thousands of times denser than the universe as a whole.
Shadow floated in a kind of semiconscious meditation, keeping his mind clear of anything that might distract him. Interstellar density had been just one variable in his calculations, and over such distances, it was a significant one. The cyan light of the Emerald had long since vanished into the background; Cosmo would have lost sight of him after mere seconds. His calculations for the Seedrian's path had been just as meticulous. In the long term, their destination was the same, but two factors had dictated their separation.
The first was a simple physical law. The net momentum of a closed system could not change without external influence. Shadow's and Cosmo's combined center of mass was still on the same trajectory as when they had been tied together, interstellar gas notwithstanding.
The second revealed itself to Shadow as a glint of light ahead of him, letting him know he was precisely on target. He roused himself and oriented his body toward the flash. After a moment, he discerned the objects of his interest.
About seventy yards ahead and moving gradually closer, a pair of metallic gold rings drifted. Their trajectories were not simple and straight, but curved – a double helix about two feet wide, slightly elliptical, traced as the two bands circled their shared axis.
As Shadow drew closer to the rings – his own equipment, discarded during the final moments of the Fall – two silver strips embedded just above his wrists began emitting a faint glow. The inner surface of each ring responded in kind. The light grew slowly, obscuring some of the dimmer stars, as the rings came close enough to make out distorted reflections in their surfaces.
Moving suddenly and rapidly, Shadow extended a hand and caught one ring out of its orbit; the other swung around in a wide arc, passed close by the first like a miniature comet, swung out again, and landed neatly beside its fellow. Their owner allowed himself a moment of satisfaction; there was little chance of failure now.
Moving carefully, Shadow slid one of the rings over his left hand. The dock in his arm, now shining to rival a sixty-watt bulb, pulled like a powerful magnet. He let go, and the ring flew into the proper alignment; a circle of ports snapped onto the inner surface, masking the glow instantly. Shadow watched the tiny actuators angle forward so that the ring rested against the base of his hand. A set of red plates fanned out and interlinked, enclosing his wrist and lower forearm in a metal bracer.
Shadow flexed his left hand and made a fist. Nothing caught or jammed. He performed the same procedure on his right arm, plunging the surrounding space into darkness except for the distant, omnipresent stars. He felt the other bracer knit together, followed quickly by a satisfying surge of vitality. He inhaled deeply; it brought a similar sensation, not to mention it was a relief in itself after rationing his manufactured air for so long.
For the moment, Shadow simply drifted, letting his energy reserves build up. It wasn't at all rare for him to pass out completely without his bracers; having to not only stay awake, but maintain an air supply for himself from his perpetually dwindling strength had felt uncomfortably like trying to survive underwater on a single held breath.
Presumably, he amended himself. He had never had to do it.
How long has it been?
Cosmo wasn't sure. Every time she looked around, it was the same – stars, star clusters, and the occasional bright nebula separated by expansive voids – never the same way twice, but never giving any clear indication of her progress. She had a feeling she may have slept for part of the journey, perhaps several times, but it was difficult to tell when her moments of awareness began or ended. Truth be told, she didn't really know if there was a difference anymore.
She had done as Shadow asked and listened to the Chaos Emerald she carried with her. She knew what he meant, so finding more than the silence of deep space came as little surprise. What surprised her was how much the Emerald had to say.
You never told me, was the first thing she heard. Who are you?
"Cosmo," she said aloud, then remembered that she was alone. The thought had appeared in her mind so clearly and abruptly that she mistook it for a sound. It even seemed to have a voice; the Seedrian wasn't consciously reminded of anyone, but it nonetheless felt familiar. I'm Cosmo, she tried again.
Is that all?
This time, Cosmo's eyes caught a flicker of light within the Emerald's depths. It was very subtle, but the supreme darkness made every fluctuation much more visible. The voice hadn't been in her imagination, and that knowledge was reassuring. Cosmo is all anyone calls me, she replied.
I know what they call you. Who are you?
Cosmo, expecting more of the simple statements and instructions given by the Planet Egg, was caught off guard. What do you mean?
I mean who you are.
I don't know what that is.
Then we should find out.
As they conversed, Cosmo found herself slipping into to the dream-like trance she had experienced before. This time, the Emerald spoke a simpler language that she understood with ease – a language of pure impression that became more and more abstract the longer it lasted. At some point, with no definite moment of transformation, the language was no longer any different from thought. It might have been a dream, or many dreams, or a memory, or any combination; it was all the same.
Time to return.
The words roused Cosmo like a loud noise; she looked around, trying to find her bearings. There were still stars on every side, but a new and unfamiliar sight had joined them.
Taking up nearly a third of Cosmo's field of view was a spot where no light shone – vast, blank, and almost perfectly round. The shadow was bordered on one side by a brilliant, hair-thin line of pure white and a subtler fringe of pale orange. The sight was awe-inspiring and frightening, as if the very space before her had opened up and devoured a part of itself.
How is that possible? Cosmo wondered. Does it even matter anymore? Is this where it stops making any difference?
The Chaos Emerald gave no sign of answering, and the old mechanics of individual thought were slow to respond. Before Cosmo could start to seriously consider the question, something else drew her attention.
Along the illuminated edge of the void, slightly below the midpoint of the arc, a visibly redder tinge appeared and slowly spread, tinting more and more of the surrounding color. The hazy region expanded and brightened around the same point, creating a deep crimson bulge in the sliver of light.
Cosmo squinted as the glow started to hurt her eyes; the bulge contorted, scattering into a tangle of loops and curves that shuddered with the slightest movement. She blinked, and the vision condensed into a vertical bar crossed by a smaller spindle of ghostly fibers. Where the two intersected, she discerned a semicircle of fiery scarlet, shimmering as if seen through water. As she watched, the shape moved, expanding slowly but unmistakeably until it detached itself completely from the shadow's margin and formed a full circle, blazing defiantly against the darkness on every side.
Transfixed by the sight, Cosmo watched without even trying to comprehend. Something at the edge of her vision drew her attention; the Chaos Emerald floated before her, glowing brightly in its now-familiar shade of blue. Averting her eyes from the light, she saw her own body lit up in scarlet. At the same moment, Cosmo's state of mind altered subtly. Her thoughts took shape more clearly, and the lingering suspicions of unreality started to seem absurd.
"Where am I?" she wondered aloud, the vacuum swallowing her words – although, she noticed, she was still able to breathe. She examined the spot of blackness again, trying to make sense of it, but it was only a few seconds before she was distracted yet again.
A second light flared up slightly above the first, this one a brilliant yellow that rapidly grew to surpass its companion. As if in response, the Emerald brightened threefold, throwing out a curtain of iridescent green that streamed off into space. The entire visible spectrum of color met Cosmo's eyes for the first time since her regeneration, bringing with it a surge of fresh energy and vigor as powerfully euphoric as if she were being regenerated all over again. It struck her that she had never fully appreciated the feeling before – for it was a feeling she knew, and knew unmistakeably. She lifted a hand, blocking all but a few cracks of the light that was becoming far too strong to look at. In spite of all the danger, fear, and uncertainty trying to access her newly awakened mind, Cosmo smiled.
As familiar as the feeling was, Cosmo had never managed to recall enough of it to relive the moment in any meaningful capacity. No method of communication could capture more than the meekest glimmer of the experience. There could be no more doubt that Cosmo was alive, awake, and every bit as real as she had ever been, now that she felt it again. Not even dreams could reproduce it, for all dreams yielded to it when it arrived.
Daybreak.
Beyond this point, chapters will appear as they (and XT's counterparts) are completed. Oh, and that crazy kaleidoscope thing? I actually sat down and squinted at a light fixture to come up with that.
Write to you later, folks.