The Silka
Chapter Twenty Six
It had taken longer than they'd expected to put the pieces in place that would, millions of years from now, bring them back to fight this battle. Then, instead of heading back to the present they'd raced across space, deeper into the past, to Silka. A Silka millions of years younger and teeming with potential but no sentient life.
After it was all over she'd sit and think about what happened then, about how Christopher and Marc designed a meta concert that spanned time as well as space to join Christopher to his siblings. When they had time again she'd ask Marc to tell her what had happened in the minds of her children and the others, led by Christopher, that had turned the surface of the planet into a light show that ended with potential turned into the actuality of a new race of beings who created reality out of dreams. When they had time...
Right now she was more concerned about what was coming next. They'd created the Silka and then come forward in time to find them established as a race and a culture. And one, moreover, that had been expecting them. Marc, brilliant, forward thinking Marc had turned Tabitha into a seer, engineered the dragon memories that would eventually lead to her being sucked back into the past and had left legends and myths behind on Silka to prepare them for what he wanted them to do.
She shoved her hair back from her face and watched the screen on the bridge. Below, on the surface, the master dreamers were about to begin a dream that would be the Rift. A dream they'd agreed to dream for all eternity if needed, just as they'd agreed that nothing would ever interfere with sustaining that dream, swearing that so long as the Silka lived the Rift would never fall.
Marc walked over to stand behind her, watching his handiwork come to fruition. He was still slightly grayish in coloring, too thin, and there were circles of fatigue under his eyes. He rested both his palms on her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. "Now, we see if the Rift activates as designed."
She leaned back into him slightly. "You should be resting. Or at least sitting down."
He made a face, and she sensed it in his mind. "My body is not listening to me. I need it better now."
"It takes time. And we can take what you need," she said, saying it again. "We can pick when we re-emerge in the present. You need to heal first or you'll be no good to anyone."
"Watch," he replied, nodding toward Silka's horizon. Something stirred although it was mostly transparent. But she sensed a power begin to build and it was like a bow wave rippling outward toward the Rim. It didn't look like much, but the power contained in the dream that would keep them all safe made her stagger for a moment as it passed through them and kept going outward.
He sighed wearily. "Now we just need to get back to our present and undo whatever the Star Lords have done to the Silka. If we can trap those already here inside the Rift, and keep any reinforcements out...Then we have a prayer."
"First you need to finish healing," she said again, like she'd already said a hundred times.
"Nag," he said affectionately. "Listen. Can you hear that? The Silka are singing."
She closed her eyes, concentrating on something besides him, something she had a hard time doing anymore. They were singing. It was lilting sound washing over her like cool water, haunting, incredibly seductive.
He was crying she knew. Tears streaming down his cheeks. "I hate it. That I'm doing this to them. When I first came here I called it enslavement. Now I find I'm the one who created the chains."
"They don't feel enslaved. They are grateful to do this thing, this very small thing to them, for you in thanks for giving them life. They were at a dead end. Incredible potential with no way forward."
"And does that absolve me?" he asked, turning her so he could see her eyes.
"Yes!" She ground it out, suddenly furious with him. "You told them the truth. You told what you did and gave them a choice, a way to say no. Everything you've ever done, everything, has been so that others would live. And do more than just live, but live better. So don't you dare condemn yourself over this."
He pulled her in, in a tight hug. She felt that he was weak, still too weak to push himself like this, yet he did. He said nothing, just zapped them both to their bedroom aboard Ther'lin. He collapsed onto the bed and was instantly asleep.
She eyed him there, sleeping. Then she went to find Kalket. She hadn't saved him just so he try to kill himself again.
"Can you keep him asleep until he's healed fully?" she asked without any preamble at all.
"I'll try, but I can't guarantee it. He has a will that is very strong. As I'm sure you know," Kalket added. "How are you? You look not much better than he does."
"Well," she snapped, totally exasperated, "if he'd rest maybe I'd have a chance to do the same damn thing."
Kalket reached out, touched her forehead and caught her when she fell. He carried her easily into the bedroom and laid her out next to Marc. He shook his head as he closed the door leaving the two of them there. He walked off to find McGee.
McGee, pouring coffee merely raised an eyebrow and reached for another cup. "Trouble in paradise?"
"I've knocked both of them out. I wish I could make them sleep for the entire voyage," Kalket confessed. Zaf, who'd walked in early enough to hear that snorted.
"Hook up an IV," McGee suggested. "A sedative drip."
"Tried it. Didn't work," Kal confessed. "Maybe now that he knows he can't do much until we reach the future he'll stay prone. What are the odds do you think?"
McGee sipped his coffee thinking. "Well, he's already trying to plan for the next battle. But he can't because he doesn't really know what we're facing and he doesn't know what he's got to work with, all of which is frustrating the hell out of him. It's as if there's something driving him that he can't get shut of."
Kalket poured himself a cup of coffee and refilled everyone else's. "Perhaps Christopher can assist. At least in reassuring him things are on target."
"It's more than that. When I touch his mind..." McGee added some sugar to his coffee absently. "He's in a kind of mental overdrive. He's processing information, running scenarios at an unbelievable rate. If you want him to rest you have to shut that off."
"He's always been that way. It's a feature not a bug. How do you suggest we turn it off?" Kalket sat back wearily as he asked.
"No, this is more than that," McGee said. "I've touched his mind in the past." His brows drew together. "Sex would stop it, but that would probably defeat the purpose if the object is to get him to rest."
"Other suggestions?" Kal asked frowning at Zaf who was grinning.
"Me, I just get stinking drunk," Zaf offered.
McGee looked at him, a grin spreading slowly across his face, an unholy, wicked thing. "If we got him stinking drunk he'd stop thinking alright. But it would also stress his body. On the other hand the Silka could put him into a cocoon, freeing his mind from his body."
"Would Dinah agree do you think?" Kal asked, perking up.
"What makes you think I'm going to ask her first?" McGee said.
"Well, you'd better have them cocoon her too, then," Kalket muttered. "I don't want to have to deal with her for the entire length of the trip."
"I planned to," McGee said, "using the same one. I doubt it would work if they were separated. Whatever she did to hold him to life has tied them together even tighter. Fortunately they like each other."
"Now," Zaf muttered. "Let's hope for their sakes it stays that way."
After it was all over she'd sit and think about what happened then, about how Christopher and Marc designed a meta concert that spanned time as well as space to join Christopher to his siblings. When they had time again she'd ask Marc to tell her what had happened in the minds of her children and the others, led by Christopher, that had turned the surface of the planet into a light show that ended with potential turned into the actuality of a new race of beings who created reality out of dreams. When they had time...
Right now she was more concerned about what was coming next. They'd created the Silka and then come forward in time to find them established as a race and a culture. And one, moreover, that had been expecting them. Marc, brilliant, forward thinking Marc had turned Tabitha into a seer, engineered the dragon memories that would eventually lead to her being sucked back into the past and had left legends and myths behind on Silka to prepare them for what he wanted them to do.
She shoved her hair back from her face and watched the screen on the bridge. Below, on the surface, the master dreamers were about to begin a dream that would be the Rift. A dream they'd agreed to dream for all eternity if needed, just as they'd agreed that nothing would ever interfere with sustaining that dream, swearing that so long as the Silka lived the Rift would never fall.
Marc walked over to stand behind her, watching his handiwork come to fruition. He was still slightly grayish in coloring, too thin, and there were circles of fatigue under his eyes. He rested both his palms on her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. "Now, we see if the Rift activates as designed."
She leaned back into him slightly. "You should be resting. Or at least sitting down."
He made a face, and she sensed it in his mind. "My body is not listening to me. I need it better now."
"It takes time. And we can take what you need," she said, saying it again. "We can pick when we re-emerge in the present. You need to heal first or you'll be no good to anyone."
"Watch," he replied, nodding toward Silka's horizon. Something stirred although it was mostly transparent. But she sensed a power begin to build and it was like a bow wave rippling outward toward the Rim. It didn't look like much, but the power contained in the dream that would keep them all safe made her stagger for a moment as it passed through them and kept going outward.
He sighed wearily. "Now we just need to get back to our present and undo whatever the Star Lords have done to the Silka. If we can trap those already here inside the Rift, and keep any reinforcements out...Then we have a prayer."
"First you need to finish healing," she said again, like she'd already said a hundred times.
"Nag," he said affectionately. "Listen. Can you hear that? The Silka are singing."
She closed her eyes, concentrating on something besides him, something she had a hard time doing anymore. They were singing. It was lilting sound washing over her like cool water, haunting, incredibly seductive.
He was crying she knew. Tears streaming down his cheeks. "I hate it. That I'm doing this to them. When I first came here I called it enslavement. Now I find I'm the one who created the chains."
"They don't feel enslaved. They are grateful to do this thing, this very small thing to them, for you in thanks for giving them life. They were at a dead end. Incredible potential with no way forward."
"And does that absolve me?" he asked, turning her so he could see her eyes.
"Yes!" She ground it out, suddenly furious with him. "You told them the truth. You told what you did and gave them a choice, a way to say no. Everything you've ever done, everything, has been so that others would live. And do more than just live, but live better. So don't you dare condemn yourself over this."
He pulled her in, in a tight hug. She felt that he was weak, still too weak to push himself like this, yet he did. He said nothing, just zapped them both to their bedroom aboard Ther'lin. He collapsed onto the bed and was instantly asleep.
She eyed him there, sleeping. Then she went to find Kalket. She hadn't saved him just so he try to kill himself again.
"Can you keep him asleep until he's healed fully?" she asked without any preamble at all.
"I'll try, but I can't guarantee it. He has a will that is very strong. As I'm sure you know," Kalket added. "How are you? You look not much better than he does."
"Well," she snapped, totally exasperated, "if he'd rest maybe I'd have a chance to do the same damn thing."
Kalket reached out, touched her forehead and caught her when she fell. He carried her easily into the bedroom and laid her out next to Marc. He shook his head as he closed the door leaving the two of them there. He walked off to find McGee.
McGee, pouring coffee merely raised an eyebrow and reached for another cup. "Trouble in paradise?"
"I've knocked both of them out. I wish I could make them sleep for the entire voyage," Kalket confessed. Zaf, who'd walked in early enough to hear that snorted.
"Hook up an IV," McGee suggested. "A sedative drip."
"Tried it. Didn't work," Kal confessed. "Maybe now that he knows he can't do much until we reach the future he'll stay prone. What are the odds do you think?"
McGee sipped his coffee thinking. "Well, he's already trying to plan for the next battle. But he can't because he doesn't really know what we're facing and he doesn't know what he's got to work with, all of which is frustrating the hell out of him. It's as if there's something driving him that he can't get shut of."
Kalket poured himself a cup of coffee and refilled everyone else's. "Perhaps Christopher can assist. At least in reassuring him things are on target."
"It's more than that. When I touch his mind..." McGee added some sugar to his coffee absently. "He's in a kind of mental overdrive. He's processing information, running scenarios at an unbelievable rate. If you want him to rest you have to shut that off."
"He's always been that way. It's a feature not a bug. How do you suggest we turn it off?" Kalket sat back wearily as he asked.
"No, this is more than that," McGee said. "I've touched his mind in the past." His brows drew together. "Sex would stop it, but that would probably defeat the purpose if the object is to get him to rest."
"Other suggestions?" Kal asked frowning at Zaf who was grinning.
"Me, I just get stinking drunk," Zaf offered.
McGee looked at him, a grin spreading slowly across his face, an unholy, wicked thing. "If we got him stinking drunk he'd stop thinking alright. But it would also stress his body. On the other hand the Silka could put him into a cocoon, freeing his mind from his body."
"Would Dinah agree do you think?" Kal asked, perking up.
"What makes you think I'm going to ask her first?" McGee said.
"Well, you'd better have them cocoon her too, then," Kalket muttered. "I don't want to have to deal with her for the entire length of the trip."
"I planned to," McGee said, "using the same one. I doubt it would work if they were separated. Whatever she did to hold him to life has tied them together even tighter. Fortunately they like each other."
"Now," Zaf muttered. "Let's hope for their sakes it stays that way."
