Tag Archives: The Enfolding Abyss

39 \ 127

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With the motion of the ship at stable velocity, the redhead in a skirt suit felt like she was sitting still; maybe a few hairs wafting.  She looked at the driver to her left.  “How long am I trapped in here with you?” she asked with dry amusement.

Derringer smiled serenely.  “Until we reach your destination, or something terrible happens.”

Karma’s head rolled back along with a smooth yet sudden acceleration.  “I wasn’t aware that this is how you drive.”

Through his mustache and dark curls, he beamed in no particular direction, then swiveled his head to look at Karma from an angle. “Right now is special!”

Her smile bloomed into a grin beneath astonished eyebrows. “I’m thrilled! And… so on.”

Derringer blinked softly, like a unicorn. “Good.”

35 \ 123

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Inverting clearance is an operational maneuver similar to castling on the chaseboard.  It’s often the best move and it happens all the time, an allowed exception.  A recurring turning point, a strategic tradition carrying the weight of invisible sanction.  Arcta sheltered her confidence within this behavioral blind spot.  With a group in tow, Arcta walked as though none could stop her, knowing and not caring how easily the situation could turn, making their way to a dead man’s tomb.

Sturlusson’s verdict had been the worst that anybody anticipated.  It was swift, quiet, and ugly.  Stillfreezing procedures were costly and awful, reserved for those who would be on view of judgment for generations.  What would they get when they broke Raev Sturlusson free?  Arcta wouldn’t wait any longer.

The group with Arcta was more nervous, and knew even less.  This place gave them the creeps, including Brave & Fearless herself.  Don’t want to know any more, don’t want to know any more – the strange litany kept her focused as she followed her thread of information down the hall.  They passed through the newest construction zone, and into the newest room.

In the center of a platform in the middle of the room, Raev Sturlusson’s body stood as though he were chained.  Intersecting his body were twenty-four spectral plates operating from their opposing pillars.  The chains and braces that held him for the freezing process were gone, no longer necessary.  Head bowed, his hair hung down either side.  Not alive, not dead… unreal and too real.  Arcta took half a second to master her own revulsion.

“Break it open.”  The edifice was intimidating, as though they too might freeze if they looked for too long.  The forty-eight slim pillars stood around the edge, no greater than saplings yet menacingly horrible.  The technician with them gibbered in distress.

Hydraia took a Multi-Tool from a companion’s hands, and with a reckless sneer dragged her suit mask over her face.  Her voice cut through the mask amplifier.  “This is Raev Sturlusson.  Break it open.”  They’ve never known what they were doing anyway, using this ghoulish thing.

The Multi-Tool’s armlength blade glowed to cutting heat, and Hydraia applied it indiscriminately to the nearest pillar.  At this the others took action, pillar after pillar toppling in elegant atrocity.  Arcta handed the Multi-Tool back and stepped away.  She withdrew her firearm and shot the platform console computers, shot them to slag.

They all stared at the man in the center, dropping or setting down their tools in silence.  He teetered, and hands sprang out in the distance around him.  He took a step, and stayed standing.  He lifted his one hand slowly, palm toward his face, and gathered the sides of his hair behind his head.  Arcta Hydraia brought a hairband out of her pocket and stepped around him to tie it back.  The surrounding hands lowered and relaxed, and Hydraia faced Sturlusson from one side.

His mouth worked as he accustomed his eyes.  Then a word, barely audible.  “Cozy… as a frog in the frozen ground.”  He shored himself up, and barely wobbled.  Members of the group shivered repeatedly.  Raev turned to face all the unspoken questions.  “Maybe I’ll write some poetry about it.”

Arcta pursed her lips and pointed her chin.  “I’ll read it.”

Raev Sturlusson gathered them all in one look and dropped a loose nod.  Together they exited.

21 \ 109

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The dragon Arkuda is remembering the names of the unbanished dragons alive for the War, and which of them still live. ‘E is one of them. Thinking of the others not by the shorthand pronounceable by other species, but the name of a dragon called by another dragon, the bugle that can be heard over other planes. A human, an eagle, or an ant might hear it as a roar. They might all hear it.

Some that hear a name might have a response, and by that response guess whose name was spoken, calling them closer by remembering. Unseen dragons often lurk in the unremembered. Unremembered by whom?

The Dragon Councillor sought places of revealing, though nowhere near a revelation. A revelation fills the sky. Calling dragons was a matter of timing, not time.

Arkuda liked the Imperium. Thought it was a genius idea for its time. ‘E’d already spent human generations explaining it to other dragons, so they would understand how they were included. Conceiving of oneself as a part of the universal fabric is different from interlocking with a species nation.

Arkuda didn’t mind explaining all that could be explained. This is why Arkuda was selected as Councillor.

20 \ 108

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I deduce their fall, as I sense her flight. The rest goes accordingly. More will come, quickly enough; I’ll know when it comes for me. I have no worry, and my own fear has died over and over. I’ve never gone with it.

What about them? This, one of the largest and most fraught questions of my life. What about them? The things it has meant, with what I have seen and been.

It’s almost comforting to be caught in self absorption. I think practically nothing of myself, except what may be mine to accomplish. I have nothing but myself here in these walls, which to me are nearly illusory. I am entertaining this illusion now, though it may not entertain me for much longer.

I could send my being out in some way, in some direction, for the cost of the time it took. This has taken me all the time till now to be able to do. I’ve made myself and been remade, to become able. I accept my abilities like fate, but the decision has always been mine – in the surprisingly rare points where one exists.

Here and now, I have no decisions to make. I do little but recall who I am, and try not to think about the parts missing.

19 \ 107

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This is no more trying than anything my forebears have committed. Missing the Ascendant; missing the scion. We have a succession, like we’ve always known to have. The Imperium is still the Imperium. I’ve made it as it is now – this is what we’ve all said.

I have made it as it is now, so it will continue. As it will, so shall I. All we have, our lives from beginning to end. All this I must.

I am the twenty-fourth ruler of this era. We have forged a memory, all our lives, from beginning to end. The way it could be, and the way it is – we all step upon this stone. It really is not so simple, and never has been. We are thus, and at times the grand total outweighs even a lifetime.

Unwearied, at full measure, equal to my greatest moment. I am always.

(from The Annals of Celeste, Magus the 24th)