Transformation Space - Marianne de Pierres [1]
Mine!
And he found ArchiTect Ra truly the oddest of creatures – unfriendly and jewel-eyed since his most recent transformation by Sole Entity. The chief admitted he’d felt a tang of jealousy knowing that the tight-skinned bastard from the Tadao Ando studium could now see all the waves of the light spectrum. What an amazing gift!
And terrible. Having one’s humanesque thought architecture so profoundly changed must have flow-on effects, not all of them positive. But then the whole mind-shafting process that Sole insisted upon so that he could better communicate with his tyros was as profoundly altering as a thing could be – and no great asset to the already profoundly selfish natures of these professionals.
Take Dicter Miranda Seeward and Lawmon Jise. When they weren’t indulging in unashamed sex games in the rooms and corridors of the pseudo-world, the pair were most concertedly trying to upset the research projects of the others. Labile Connit had gone quite insane over Miranda’s constant prying into his affairs. Connit had come to the chief, begging protection from the woman, citing that she was stalking him.
The only effect his begging had was to irritate the chief. Why should Balol’s pre-eminent scientist have to deal with such petty doings when there was an unparalleled scientific discovery in front of his nose, excreting screeds of empirical data?
And now that data was telling him something had changed.
With more reluctance than he cared to acknowledge, Chief Balbao instructed his moud to call an immediate meeting of the tyros. Decision made, he ordered a hearty roast beffer. The least thing he could do was face the glory-seeking parasites on an empty stomach.
MIRA
Mira lay in the Primo vein, struggling to deal with her dread. Even the soothing nano-replenishers swimming through her blood couldn’t calm her emotion. She had begun to lose her pregnancy waters in the conference room on Intel station. Only a trickle at first, but increasing by the time she reached her ship, Insignia.
Will my baby die?
The biozoon did not respond through their mental link immediately, and she hoped it was weighing alternatives, not ignoring her.
There is a facility on Scolar that is trialling cell acceleration. They may be able to help us, Insignia said finally.
Cell acceleration?
Your foetus is too immature to survive. It’s only weeks old. Cell acceleration may save it. The Pod knows of them and approves.
But Thales believes Scolar society to be affected by the virus. We could be at risk if we go there.
The facility is quite isolated. I don’t believe it to be a problem.
You think that is the best option?
Yes. Insignia sounded patient, but Mira knew the creature was fretting to leave Intel station. The normal quiet hum of its biologics roared through her body.
How is shift space? Mira asked.
Insignia relayed an image to Mira’s visual receptors. The rings of the Intel shift sphere flared with activity. Queues had already begun to form. Craft jostled each other to gain advantage.
Word is spreading quickly that the Dowl sphere has reopened. ’Esques and aliens are scared. We must leave now, or they may disengage the sphere.
I’ve caused mass panic, Mira thought.
We don’t have time to absolve you of your mistakes. All pretence of patience had left the biozoon’s mind tone. It sounded preoccupied. Its anger would come later. You have shared the truth. The Post-Species have amassed significant weaponry, and some of it is thought to be located on Araldis. OLOSS’s existence is under threat. Now is the time to concern ourselves with our survival.
The biozoon was right. Can you shift early?
Imperfect shift again?
Si.
Of course. The Omniline are already preparing for it themselves.
They will return to the Pod?
Yes. Are you able to make a decision as to where to go? Or is your mind impaired by your hormones? If so, then I will choose.
Insignia’s last question held no trace of humour.
Mira hesitated, floundering. Where should they go?