A/N: Okay, this was another one of those chapters I had thought was mostly ready for posting, but while rereading it for the final edits, decided significant revisions were necessary.
Within this installment, another entity comes briefly to light, Warren and Ettwanae play a version of Getting to Know You, and even more is exposed about the Shozen and Elder Phai.
Chapter 25
Kynkz provided details on all she had observed about the Sat'reyan female, male of unknown species, and tidbits Tider had thrown her way. The Ptakan had seemed especially excited about whatever it was he'd gained from the pair and was more talkative than usual. Kynkz had used that to her advantage.
"You did well," the figure before her said in a slippery voice. That was the only word she had to describe it, but the praise filled her with pride.
"I wiz only 'o zerve," she replied with a slight bow of her flat head. They had met in their usual place, blocks from Tider's shop in a back alcove. She would do whatever was required by the one who was an agent of Orzra, god of all that is, was, and will be. Long ago, she'd seen the signs, recognized the symbols. This being who could stand before Orzra had chosen her as his helper. Kynkz was humbled by the honor.
"Your reward awaits when he comes. Orzra is pleased." The words were punctuated with odd gestures from two of the being's four gloved hands.
Her heart overflowed with happiness. Suddenly, a shaft of late afternoon light broke through the surrounding cityscape and caught the face always shrouded by a hooded cloak. The eyes were pools of blackness that seemed to drink in her very soul and she couldn't help but shudder. Its skin was swirls of deepest ebony against a rich golden brown. She saw chiseled features – a large nose and strong jaw. Kynkz believed she saw an ever so slight smile at the corners of the agent's mouth. More than that was lost to folds of cloth.
She bowed deeply and when she upturned her eyes, it was gone.
###
"What's Twenty Questions?" she asked from her corner of the bay. It was the furthest she could be from him, yet still in the same room.
"Well, it's not really the official game, but it's a question/answer spin-off. We take turns asking questions to learn more about the other person. First, you ask me a question and I answer, then vice versa. One question per turn – no more." He was smiling one of his mischievous grins and it made her insides flutter.
"Sounds fun!" Ettwanae drew her feet up to sit crossed-legged on the stow bin turned perch.
When Warren agreed to spend a little time getting to know each other, Ettwanae had been thrilled. She so wanted to know all there was about her intended soulbound, but hopes of long, intimate conversations had yet not materialized. Aru was a wedge between them. Ironic. Fighting that force of nature was constant and draining and she could already see the strain on his face. It'd been two days since Tchutchka Centrus and the Aru-driven need to copulate was dozing. Volu had said the instinctual drive would ebb and flow, but warned any respite would be temporary and Aru easily roused. And so they had chosen to sit with ample distance between them as proximity tended to stir Aru. She set worries of that aside for the moment and leaned forward in anticipation. She was going to enjoy any time they could spend together. Of course, it'd be so much better if they could be seated next to one another, but she'd take what she could get – far better than Warren isolating himself in his room or the bowels of Volu.
"You first," she offered.
"Where were you born?"
"On my parent's Eshaar'ne. I don't know where they were at the time, though. And you?"
"In New York State – that's like a territory in a country called United States of America. May I ask how old you are?"
"Yes." She smiled slyly. This was a good game. "And your age in imperial standard years?"
Warren chuckled catching her sidestep. "Roughly 25. And your age would be…?"
"Twenty-three imperial standard years." She watched his eyebrows furrow for a moment as he looked down. 'What's he thinking?'
"That'd be about 26 in Earth years. It's roughly a 1 to 1.15 ratio…imperial standard to Earth year," he explained.
'Calculating in his head,' she noted, reassured he wasn't judging her age as unacceptable. "Is 26 a good age on Earth?" she asked to be certain.
"It's perfect."
The smile sent her way caused a wing to quiver. "How long do people live-?"
He cut her off with a halt gesture and a sly grin. "Uh-uh, my turn."
She jerked – his turn again just like that. In this game, you had to guard your tongue. Ettwanae narrowed her eyes. "I'm going to have watch my nareses with you!"
His eyebrows went up. "Your what?"
"Nareses – a form of credits from the olden days on Sat'rey. Nares was a token that could be exchanged for goods."
"Money – like on Earth. We still use paper and coin money in addition to a form of credits like the Empire. So the saying means to watch your money around me…because I'm crafty, untrustworthy, or what?"
"Out of turn!" she scolded with delight and a single clap of her hands. "Penalty award to Ettwanae."
It was his turn to jerk. "I don't think it's me that has to be watched!" He laughed. "Ask your question."
"What is your favorite place to visit and why?" She'd keep the questions light for now, but was forming a plan of where she wanted the game to go.
"The mountains. Love them to the depths of my soul. There's just something about their wildness and majesty that speaks to me. Soaring with the eagles is something I never tire of."
His eyes had turned dreamy at whatever memories and feelings the reply conjured. A slight pang twisted within her. 'Does he regret giving up freedom of the skies already?' she wondered. 'Will he be able to cope with life in space?' Then his voice sliced through the worries.
"My turn." Warren paused, seeming hesitant to ask his question. "If it's not too painful, what was life like for you growing up?"
She clasped her hands tight. Thinking of Bhenra was bittersweet. "It was a good life, Warren. Bhenra was a wonderful father – Baumpa – to me. He was a professor of antiquities until he retired to open his shop in Yaunra. That was before I was brought to him. The shop provided well for us, but we weren't wealthy. Bhenra took good care of me, did his best to protect me, while helping me embrace who I was beneath the cloak. In one way, it was hard pretending to be what I wasn't, but in another it wasn't – I grew up posing as Sat'reyan – I really didn't know any other way. He'd take me for trips to the country and there I honed by flight skills. When my need became too great, we'd go. He never complained about it being inconvenient or a bother. Baumpa always worried though – I could see it in his eyes. When I got older, I use to slip out into the night sky after he went to sleep. For a long time I believed he didn't know, but then I realized he did – just didn't say anything. Parents are like that sometimes, I think – they know what their children believe they are so cleverly keeping secret." That brought a smile to her face. Her dearest Baumpa had let her have her deception. Warren nodded in agreement with the observation.
"Shop life was wonderful. Besides meeting people from all over the Empire, I loved being surrounding by old things...the antiques and ancient artifacts. Each had seen so much and told a story if you cared to listen." She chuckled lightly. "I know that sounds strange, but it's true. Like I told the attendant in Tider's shop – Bhenra would select an object and we'd sit together at night, and he'd tell me what it had could have seen during its long existence…the people, their way of life, and how that changed through the long years. I was mesmerized." The pain of loss welled up and she shuddered on the inside. "Those are cherished memories. I miss him greatly." She loved the way Warren watched her and the gentle look of empathy. "My turn. What did you do as an X-man?"
"Fought bad guys."
The answer was too short and she was disappointed, but then Warren appeared to have caught that and continued.
"The last few years I wasn't an active member meaning I didn't go on missions…didn't fight." At her puzzled look, he elaborated about the group's role in curtailing mutants bent on supremacy over non-mutant Humans. The situated he described sounded so frightening – one genus divided by genetics into two separate species, each trying to dominate rather than live in peaceful co-existence. But the X-men's leader, a Professor, believed that the two could live side-by-side harmoniously and Warren's group fought years for that dream. From what he said, the dream seemed to be out of reach due to fear and hatred. "So sad, Warren. No matter whether mutant or non-mutant, Humans are a single people. That's how the rest of the Empire will view and judge you. You will all be known as Earthlings – that will be your communized species name once Earth fully joins the Empire."
"Commonized name?"
"Yes. When a world joins the Empire, whatever the inhabitants call themselves is discarded. The old Ta'oc Empire standardized species names to simplify identification. A species is referred to by the planet or star system of their origin. For example, the people from Ozjaer who had previously referred to themselves as Anthe, became known as Ozjaerians. It wasn't voluntary – still isn't from what I know. After Ztar overthrew the Ta'oc government, he continued the tradition."
Warren nodded. "I remember reading about that now. Ztar also changed the name of the Ta'oc Empire to the Turzent Empire as Turzent was the communized name for his own species, which had originated on Turzen."
Ettwanae gestured agreement. "That's right. Turzen is the homeworld for the Emperor's species and a planet within the Ta'oc star system – that's where the old empire got its name." The game was drifting beyond the intent. Species names and imperial history weren't what interested Ettwanae and she would get things back on track. "And now Turzent has come to be the name for all imperial citizens – almost generic. My turn again," she smirked. His eyes twinkled at her.
Ettwanae pondered while examining his face, taking in every nuance of expression and feature. He was so handsomely beautiful – masculine, yet a delicateness to his features that hinted of feminine. A perfect blending of the best of both genders she felt…sensual and alluring…just as the U'larr had desired for their creation. 'If only…' she sighed as visions came of what she'd like to do with that sensual body. Did he feel anything close to the same about her? Then she snapped herself back to the game when Warren cleared his throat, giving her an odd look. "Who is Warren Worthington, also called Archangel?" It was a good question she felt and waited anxiously for his response.
"Oh, boy…not easy question." He shifted uncomfortably in her opinion and she immediately wondered why. "Let's see – he is the only offspring of the filthy rich family, inheritor of a multi-national corporation, a former X-man…sometimes hero and one-time harbinger of death. Oh, and board president of his own charitable foundation." The same look of concentration from before crossed the perfect face once again. Ettwanae waited for the rest of his reply, sensing emotions bubbling beneath the surface. "Let's see…he's a man of few close friends but adversary of many, a card-carrying loser in the personal relationship department, someone who searched years for direction in his life and drifted here and there, never finding a place to land for long until a year ago or so." A deep sigh escaped him and the blue eyes darkened.
"The famous Angel turned Archangel has not always been in control of his own destiny and used in too many people's twisted plans and it nearly-" She could see him swallow hard. Empathic pain welled up as a wave of hurt washed over her from him. "It nearly destroyed him." He paused, taking a deep breath, then conjured a half-smile. "Sorry – didn't mean…" he apologized with a shake of his head. "Archangel was a survivor, though, and allowed me to finally focus on Warren after years of living in the shadow of a moniker." Then he seemed to collect himself and laughed uncomfortably. "Warren Kenneth Worthington the Third is Earth's direct link to Emperor Ztar, bigwig businessman, financial lifeline for the X men, and a man in search of his miracle cure." He crossed his arms, leaned back against the bay wall, and searched her face for several seconds. "That pretty much sums up my current existence," he concluded.
It was a lot to take in. Warren was a complex mix of different personas and life paths. Emotional wounds were there as well. Something or someone had hurt him more than once in the past and she felt protectiveness rise up. 'If anyone tries to hurt you again, they will regret it dearly,' she vowed to him silently. And his claim of being loser in relationships tugged equally at her heart. Then something puzzling jumped to the forefront – he had defined himself by the roles he held in life. Little of who he was, only what he was. She wanted to know Warren, not so much his occupations. 'Perhaps another day,' she decided not wanting to push too hard into perhaps tender areas.
"My turn. Same question."
She was expecting that. How did she define herself? Quite differently than Warren. As with Warren, she feared emotions would rise up at the telling and bring tears. Perhaps his third-person technique would help. After gathering her thoughts, she began. "Ettwanae is someone who is searching…for her past, her people, and her future. She is sometimes brave, sometimes daring…often…afraid." At his raised eyebrows, she expanded the thought realizing she was afraid a lot. "Afraid of being alone or left behind, and of losing her freedom or getting her friends killed, or worse." She shook her head at that. The mere thought of any of them ending up back in an Etagllot lab was her definition of a fate worse than death. "She is sometimes uncertain, but always hopeful." She straightened up, bracing herself for where she would tread next. "Most of all, Ettwanae seeks someone to share her life with, someone to complete her. She could face anything if that someone was at her side."
The "game" was evolving into a baring of souls. Was it too much? Would he feel she was pushing? Yet she so desperately wanted Warren to be her someone. She couldn't quite read the expression that crossed his face and she instantly regretted the words. The harshness of his early warning about using her for his purposes replayed in her mind. She quickly asked her next question – something far safer. "What's your favorite color?"
He literally burst out laughing. Ettwanae was mortified. "What did I do? Did I say something wrong?"
Warren reined in the outburst and waved his hands in a gesture she didn't understand. "No, no, sorry. It's just…cliché on my world. Struck my funny bone that another species would think to ask the same, very neutral, ever-so-safe question. Quite the contrast from your last inquiry."
She still wasn't certain how asking about someone's color preferences could illicit riotous laughter, but she did want to know. Crossing her arms and doing her best to look determined, she held to it. "I asked a legitimate question and am waiting for your response, or do I get another penalty award?"
He gave her a stern look, but his eyes danced with mirth. "What's with this penalty award business? I never said anything about penalties."
She snickered. "My ship, my rules." Then her own laughter wouldn't be denied. He joined in quickly.
"Another very American expression. Are you certain you're not Human? Maybe your image inducer only makes you appear Eshaaru," he teased.
Feeling feisty with the taunt, she jumped off the tub. "Very certain. Pure Eshaaru." She took two tentative steps forward and stood tall, filling her demeanor with pride and spreading her wings in show. "Daughter and sole descendant of T'Qilla and T'Azrued. Born of Gathers to Etxan'Ir. I am Ettwanae and my name means Hope of the Life Source." She gave him a superior look that begged to be challenged and was rewarded with a smile that seemed to light up the bay.
"And I am full-blood Human," he retorted leaving his perch. "Son of Warren and Kathryn. Born to the Worthington fortune and name. I am Warren Kenneth Worthington the Third and my name means money." He chuckled at the spiel.
It'd be so easy to fall into his arms and laugh with him. To hug him, kiss those lips, caress that incredible body... Her legs carried her toward him of their own accord, longing building. Wariness quickly replaced amusement on his face as he took a step backward, bumping into the crate.
"Ettwanae, I don't think we should-"
He got no further than that when she found herself inches from him. "Kiss me, Human," a strange voice commanded – a voice she didn't recognize coming from her own mouth. It was startling, but didn't stop her from bringing their faces together, lips nearly brushing – their breath warm upon each other's mouth. Lips parted, her head tilted just a bit, they touched…
'Stop this minute, Ettwanae!' she scolded herself abruptly and pulled back. "Oh, goddess! I'm sorry, Warren. We- we can't… I didn't mean…" The words tumbled out as she backed away and turned from him to make a hasty exit fearing Aru's power. Then she felt his arms slide around her from behind, wrapping around her abdomen. She moaned softly.
"The need has eased. Perhaps we can share a hug without losing control," he whispered into her ear, his cheek pressed against her head.
She leaned into him, closed her eyes, and melted. Ettwanae was exactly where she belonged. It felt so…so… The perfect word escaped her. He sighed into her hair and they stood there; for how long she didn't know. She rubbed his arm, and he took her other hand into his and entwined their fingers. Opening her eyes, she gazed at their hands. The fit was exact.
"See Warren? Our hands are made for each other. We are two halves that make a whole." Then the fire began down there, radiating out in an odd blend of ache and bliss. She gently pulled his arms from around her and turned to face him. "I need to go now," she told him as much as she didn't want to.
He nodded understandingly. His pupils were large, telling her he was also feeling the rising heat. With a heavy heart, she left her other half standing alone.
###
Warren was torn as he watched her return to the upper deck. While he felt good about learning a little more about the woman to whom he felt an intense physical attraction – and yes, if he admitted, the pull was more than physical – he was troubled by yet again being the object of someone's intense need. 'Been there, done that. Not sure about a repeat.' Ztar had taught him a lesson – coveting is a powerful driver. It can cause you to do things you'd ordinarily find unthinkable. Intense, unfulfilled need can devour all your morals and cast aside your ethical inhibitors. While Ettwanae didn't come across as being nearly as needy as Ztar, signs were there. How needful of him would she become under their circumstances? He scooted back atop his crate.
And she had hurts, much like Ztar. Old and deep wounds that perhaps dominated current behavior. Abandonment as a child, left to be raised by a stranger. Reasons don't matter. Abandonment is abandonment regardless that her mother was trying to save her. T'Qilla hadn't returned for her daughter and Ettwanae's pain went deep. A lost mother, a lost surrogate father, a lost race. How would she react if Warren decided to leave as well?
A sigh that originated from the depths of his soul escaped. 'Another wonderful situation you've stepped into, flyboy. Can't life be uncomplicated just once?' Yet, there were positives. She was intelligent, witty, fun, and, yes, incredibly beautiful. She was like him – winged and happily so. They'd have beautiful children… 'Wait a minute – where'd that thought come from?' he started in surprise. 'Still, when you returned to Earth a year ago that was something you wanted to pursue. First, though, a lifemate. A partner, kindred spirit, in a lasting relationship. Perhaps she's it. Remember how it feels with her in your arms?' Another sigh, another pondering shake of the head. 'Life just doesn't give me any breaks.'
Drawing knees up and pulling wings around, he enveloped himself in their protective wrap. The feeling was soothing, peaceful…isolating. Thank god, they had returned to him. His precious, feathery appendages that had given him his greatest joys and had been the source of his worst nightmares. Ettwanae hadn't been through the lost of her wings, the agony of evil replacements, and the horror of realizing you'd sold your soul to regain the joy of flight only to realize too late it was his soul that infused the wings with joy, not the other way around.
From the little he knew, Ettwanae was untainted – she hadn't walked through hell and back, hadn't had her wounded soul tortured, tormented, and nearly extinguished. He had. Not once, but twice. First Apocalypse, then by Ztar in the early years. Ettwanae wasn't all that much younger in Earth-years, yet he felt far older. Even in their brief time together, the difference in their life experience showed. She'd live a relatively carefree life with Bhenra while he had been a warrior at age 16 and had seen and done things a teenager shouldn't have to. Her essence felt freer, more optimistic, less burdened…almost innocent.
His mind floated back to their near kiss followed by the sensual embrace. Holding her close, the feel of her wings pressed against his chest, the silkiness of her hair, the smell of her. Nothing – no one – else had existed in that minute. She was all. It had been a perfect moment. Fleeting, but perfect.
Something twisted deep within him and it hurt. 'You want her, admit it. Whether or not we find her people, Etxan'Ir, or a nannite cure, you want her in your life.' Opening his wings, he slipped off the crate. 'Must be pragmatic, though. Getting rid of the nannites resolves many underlying issues and uncertainties in your life,' he reminded himself. 'Stay focused, Worthington. They're all looking to you to lead them. Getting Ettwanae in your life and bed is gravy, not the primary mission at this point.'
He started toward the lift. 'Or is it?' Just then, his stomach loudly reminded him it had been while since it had been fed. Evening mealtime was near. Instead of letting Volu raise him up, he sprang up on powerful legs and a single beat of his wings through the opening to the main living level, scaring the bejeebers out of Gatebi who was leaving the bridge.
###
The holo representation standing in her office was not pleased. The change in the status of a particularly desirable resource was not going over well. But Phai was equally perturbed by the rogue action of her subordinate.
"Prime Director, am I understanding correctly that the Human is not to be pursued?" The man's question was more of an accusation.
"You are," she replied. Phai knew the Etagllot's Director of Biotechnology would not be pleased, but it didn't matter.
"We nearly had him on Tchutchka Centrus until someone interfered." Director Sident declared with indictment. "The death of our operatives appears to have been via telekinesis. Unusual. If Gtar-Cro now employs telekinetic security that is new." The holographic eyes locked onto hers. "But perhaps you already knew that."
She only gave a single nod of her head, neutrality maintained without speaking. From Prime Director Sident's narrow perspective, that would be the most logical assumption. He would assume Archangel had left Earth with imperial guards in tow.
Under Phai's interrogation, Sident explained that after the angry Jandur curator commed his Etagllot contact, a review of the museum's surveillance scanners revealed it was the desired Human who had visited. The curator told his contact the Human was destined for Tider. Arriving on the scene just as Archangel and his travel companion entered the broker's premises, Etagllot operatives waited for Archangel to emerge from Tider's shop. What happened beyond that he did not know, except that the three mercenaries ended up dead.
"Acquisition of the bionites is critical to Project One. We risked much twice to obtain Archangel, and now you're telling me that he is off limits? Why?" The Director's tone was heated.
Phai was unaffected by the outburst. "What would you be doing if the bionites did not exist, Director? They are a fortuitous shortcut that you appear to be all too eager to take."
The man was stunned. Rightly so. It was an about-face in agenda. "But Prime Director, you yourself pressed the importance of that technology. You approved the extreme risk of acquiring the Human and the Turzent emperor despite some saying it couldn't be done. We risked everything then and what we feared came to be. Ztar and his underlings hunt us once again. Are you telling me it was all for nothing?"
She sighed. The Etagllot were a valuable tool. She didn't want to lose their presence in the Empire to Ztar's persecution a second time either. The research they performed under the guise of Project One was critical to the larger purpose, but it could be performed anywhere – it did not have to occur within Turzent space.
"Director, I understand your confusion and frustration. The bionites are important as a failsafe. If you are unsuccessful in creating the transformative quality, then we will attempt once again to unlock the technology that resides in Archangel."
The image stepped toward her. "Therefore, he should be recaptured and put into stasis at a minimum," he pleaded. "Why risk losing the technology?"
She smiled at Sident as a knowing mother would smile at a bewildered child. "Director, you are but a single arm of our organization. Your purpose is to produce certain results and remain focused on that. Do not concern yourself with the responsibilities of others. The Human and what he carries within will not be lost. Should your division need him again, he will be obtained. For now, you will cease your pursuit, is that understood?" Sometimes you needed to tell children to simply do as they are told without question or argument. From his expression, Phai had successfully reminded Sident of his place. 'Good,' she thought. Other duties beckoned and she wanted to be done.
Sident bowed slightly to his superior. Her command he would not disobey – the consequences were harsh. "Yes, Prime Director."
Phai ended the comm and mentally crossed the chore off her list that would allow the Human and Eshaaru to move with one less interference along the path chosen for them. Elder Phai then turned her attentions to their next challenge – maneuvering the other pieces into place for the coming event on Neu. Changing inputs to the holographic emitter, a three-dimension strategy tool materialized in the air beyond her desk. The imagery allowed her to track progress, assess status, and test theories. It moved to the will of her mind through a neurolink and it was how Phai worked best – visually.
The top of the display was the goal – a single point near the ceiling of her office. The bottom represented where the battle had begun thousands of years ago and before her time. She stood and began circling the display, reviewing the status and positions of various tools and participants. The relative vertical position of each represented the estimated nearness to their specific goal.
Her duty was to ensure the right players made it to the top. A monumental task when most of those in the complex game didn't know they were participants or even that a very serious competition was afoot. Secrecy was tantamount. Obscurity imperative. If others knew their moves, then so would the enemy.
She pulled focus back to the summation of hundreds of years of her delicate maneuverings suspended in front of her. The thinnest of threads ran between many of the points on the holograph representing links of various forms. Other symbols indicated obstacles that must be removed. And still more points reminded of interim goals yet to be realized.
Phai reached with her mind to make the latest adjustment to the image. One obstacle hovered above the so called Human and the Eshaaru winked out. The thread joining the two she thickened, indicating close association. Once the two became a bonded pair, she would change the thread to the same color as their points of light. That would not happen without Ztar's death. "For now, my two Eshaaru, you must endure and push forward. Much rides on your success," she spoke to the three-dimensional tracker board.
Her eyes followed another thread coming off Archangel's point to Ztar. Phai smiled as feelings of achievement came with the Emperor's symbol. Multiple achievements, in fact. The lone, betrayed soldier risen up to become a conqueror who built an empire out of a hodgepodge of warring systems, shifting alliances, and plundered then forgotten worlds. She had argued vehemently that Ztar represented the uniting force needed, not the Commonwealth. While others saw a ruthless conqueror who may one day prove too unstable to be useful, she had seen promise. He just needed the right motivation to grow past the violence and mature to become a leader people wanted to follow and thus build an empire that systems wished to pledge their allegiance in a dangerous universe.
She took no credit for Archangel's appearance. Little attention had been given to the mutants of Earth, including those resembling the Eshaaru race. Several had been taken and tested, all proved fully Human. A wild coincidence in a universe filled with such occurrences. Then Ztar took one such winged man for his own and the one known as Archangel began piquing their interest. The more they learned, the more they wished to know. First the nannites, then the secondary lifeforce pattern, and finally the manifested energy. The rest…well, the rest was history. Ztar changed under the influence of the Human who was likely more than a mutated Earthling. Archangel healed Ztar's troubled soul and the Emperor was now as Phai had predicted. A leader who could unite system after system under one rule. Unification. One of the primary desiderata.
Was Archangel Eshaaru? Still no undeniable proof, though growing evidence indicated he was. 'Ary's theory of Archangel's mixed heritage is intriguing. Could explain certain contradictory data,' she allowed. Her thoughts floated back to the Turzent Emperor. 'On my side of the argument is the healing of Ztar; a hallmark of extended Eshaaru exposure, especially if doused with manifested Source. Had Ztar been exposed?' If so, Ary's theory came into play once again…soul healing shouldn't take years, and Ztar's took nearly five. Could mixed genetics account for that?
Phai let her mind wander further afield. Esserru – the name meant "healer of souls" in Turzent legend. A variant of their name, Eshaaru, but even that wasn't exactly right. Their true name as given to them by their creators was Esha'Aru. Esha meaning Caretaker and Aru meant Lifeforce. Healer of Souls…Caretaker of Lifeforce. Close enough to be broadly correct. Where Aru is Life, Ura is Will; the soul. Without Ura, you get non-sentient life. With it, you get Turzents and Alcabs, Basti and Sat'reyan, Human, Minoi, Themran, Darian, Symp-Symp, Nuinyar, and the countless other sentient races spread across a galaxy teeming with intelligent beings.
Free will played a key role in many of their maneuverings, and most crucially regarding the Eshaaru. She gazed along Archangel and Ztar's previous co-travel path to one example. Ymoz was a partial disappointment. Genetic analysis of Archangel stubbornly read fully Earth origin. However, that could be a limitation of their technology in breaking through the DNA sheathing employed by the ancients. No matter the reason, they failed to confirm genetically Archangel as Eshaaru. Offsetting that disappointment was what the Etagllot scientists did discover – Archangel's lifeforce was bound to another's, a condition nearly unique to Eshaaru.
The scientists had failed to unlock the bionite programming using traditional methods and were determined to reactivate the technology. When Phai got word of that, she adjusted the plan. Transformation of a likely Eshaaru into someone else's twisted form with no guarantee of reversal would not be allowed. Phai moved into place what the captive pair needed to escape. The Turzent did not disappoint and took the tools Phai had carefully positioned and used them brilliantly. Her Den-neer made certain the escape vessel's caretaker turned off the psy-dampeners. She admitted to some tense moments during the escape, but the duo managed to outmaneuver their captors. Why the masquerade? Couldn't they have simply released the captives somewhere? Of course, but that would be puzzling to their unwitting players. No, Ztar and Archangel needed to believe they were in control of their own escape. The illusion of self-will was essential.
The Etagllot were naturally upset by the lost, but Archangel had only been loaned to them. Of course, they did not know that – from their limited perspective, Archangel was a critical component and worth any risk to obtain. With mounting evidence that the Human was actually Eshaaru, Phai changed stratagem and reclassified the bionites a failsafe. If the Etagllot could not replicate the transformative ability on their own, the Human/Eshaaru would be retaken.
And that brought Phai to more recent events. She had given the order to retake Archangel when Sident reported a roadblock his scientists could not overcome. They needed the supremely advanced bionites within the Human, he explained. And so reluctantly, Phai gave the order to reacquire Archangel and sent Den-neer to Earth. But then her favored one witnessed what could only be First Meeting of Soulbounds. That changed everything, but she needed time to convince the Council of the wisdom of allowing Archangel to remain free and on a different path with a new companion. She succeeded in her argument and issued the stop order just as Den-neer was about to take his target.
Phai sighed. 'Enough rumination indulgence,' she told herself. 'Time to work.' Elder Phai circled the holograph, analyzing positions, progress, goals, old players and new, threats, aids, obstacles and achievements. Their forces were mostly on track, but the enemy was as well in her estimation. All must be positioned correctly at the right moment in the end. How much time they had before The Dark Coming no one knew. Signs had been detected for a long time. Estimates ranged from a few dozen years to hundreds. Instinct told Phai they were running out of time more quickly than most realized. Much had to happen before then. Once it began, one of two possibilities would come to fruition – the galaxy would continue to defy with light or return to darkness.
In her opinion, the odds were dead even.
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A/N: Next chapter – General Gtar-Cro's report to Ztar is disconcerting. And what of the attempt by Ztar to purchase Ettwanae's secret from Tider?
I'm thrilled to see the number of readers that are working through Soulbound continue to go up, but it strikes me as odd that I've heard nothing in the way of reviews of late. Interesting phenomenon. Ah, well…so it goes. But if you'd like to cheer me up and perhaps give me a word of encouragement as I plow through the final edits, I'd love you for it.