Chapter 5, Part 2

# Jal finds that he can be all of his people at once just by wishing it, experiencing a day from the point of view of thousands, every nuance of their souls felt by him, his soul their lighting rod, he shares pain and pleasure that, if faced alone, could destroy them. He can see different parts of himself walking down the street, passing each other by, or being every participant in conversation between friends, being two people making love. He can be all of them at once, his soul a high-pitched note among the sea of voices, and they were all safe now thanks to the part of him called Dr. Pendle, with the mind like a city of crystals, razor sharp, run through it run a thousand deep wounds, scream your agony and joy, they would all be with him now forever he could not let them die- he loved them all and Jaldeja was hungry for love as only a God can be.                                                                    # There is something pulling him back now, an impatient hand on his shoulder. It pulls him back from the telepathic womb, from the minds of his people that caressed his soul. It pulls him away until he is outside of it, staring in, gazing at the web of interconnected souls that was his universe. Even as this vision fades, he sees that he is still connected by a thin matrix of light that melts from his body- perhaps all was not lost. Fading to nothing now- he reluctantly becomes aware of the shell of flesh surrounding him- cold, dead, and heavy. Trying to take a deep breath, air rattles in his chest. He hates it and wishes he could leave, and indeed feels the lightness of his soul hover outside his body for just a moment before sinking back in once again, almost in defeat. Jal opens his eyes. Pain lances into his brain, an ice pick gently probing- he is very hungry and his lips are dry, tongue swollen in his mouth. There are small plates of food, water, and other kinds of drink around him- flowers lay scattered in the alley where he sits. Smell of their perfume, dampness, and October smoke- wind blows the flower petals in a flurry around him as he shakes his head and tries to stand, almost managing it before falling down in a fit of coughing. Raising his eyes, only now does he see the young man sitting quietly across from him, staring at him with curious intent. Jal manages a smile. “You,” he clears his throat, “you shared a joint with me once. Got another? My head- God, I hurt.” Getting up, the young man picks up one of the containers filled with water and presses it to his lips, giving to him in drops. “You remember me,” he says setting it down. “I’m surprised you can think at all, much less be alive. What you’re doing to your mind . . .” Jal smiles. “Not my idea,” he says, “you.” “You have to leave, Jal,” the boy says, taking a step back. “You and Siah are destroying the processes that are at work here- leave soon.” Taking Jal’s hand, he kisses it, turns and leaves. For many hours, Jal dreams of his future- he knows, like he’s always known, that if he does what is required of him, he will get all that he desires most. Jal is still saying ‘Not my idea’ when Katya finds him, and putting his arm over her shoulder, carries him off.                                                                     # Jal awakes in uncertainty- memories of past lives, memories of the souls in the world of his expanded consciousness. He moves a level closer to full wakefulness when he thinks of them- the souls of his people- they have wandered aimlessly while he has been asleep, led only by his dreams. They sense his consciousness, and their minds move towards his, swimmers sensing safety in a thin line tossed out into the ocean. Jal’s mind unfolds just as he opens his eyes, becoming aware of each of the thousands- it almost overwhelms him. For a moment he is almost swept away to the protective harbors of insanity with its warm meadows of forgetfulness. The comfort of his surroundings, though, gives him an eye of calm in the vortex, allowing his identity to gel and solidify. He is lying naked in a small bed, beneath a heavy quilt, head resting on a large pillow. There is a small window just inches from his face- rain washes in sheets against it- through the curtains of mist he can see the thin towers of the city, its dim lights scattered in a meaningless constellation. Turning his head, he sees the walls are painted a pale yellow, wooden floor, the light dim in early morning or evening. Even as Jal begins to relax further, he feels his mind continuing to expand, filling him with whispers of alien thoughts and emotions, and he curls up on the bed, putting his fists over his eyes. His people- his consciousness had grown into them- an intertwining of psychic synapses in infinite shining webs. There is no going back now- no telling where he ended and his people began- he feels that if he dies, his people will hold his soul, keeping him with the force of their need. He hears footsteps approaching- turning, he sees Kat in the doorway. Sitting up, he wraps the blanket around himself as she moves towards him, placing her hands on his forehead and moving them down his face. “I know what’s happened to you,” she says, her eyes rising to meet his. “I knew it the last time I saw you- I think I should have killed you then. Look out the window- see what they’re building for you.” Looking out one side of the window, Jal sees a vast, black orchid grasping at the sky through the mist, thin twisting spires rising from its center. “It just started growing from the center of the city- there’s something different about it every day- something new. It’s made out of black metal- a machine of some kind. Do you know what it is?” “A spacecraft,” says Jal absently, “a terraformer.” “Why are you having them build it?” “Because we have to go- if you had an implant I could show you why.” “You can’t do any better than that?” “The war that involves Siah and myself is destroying this city for others who need to use it to pass on to their eternity.” “Somehow I don’t see that as being of much concern to you.” Jal’s face turns red, his hands balling into fists. “You’re right,” he says. “Normally, it wouldn’t be, but it has become a concern. If we stay here, I’ll fail.” “So I’m going too, then?” “You can’t refuse- if you do, all the lives you lived will have meant nothing.” Katya takes his hand. “Then I’ll go with you- this will be the last time.” Jal looks at her, puzzled, as she draws him to her.                                                                    # Jal slept peacefully- not like before, when he was feverish. Kat hadn’t bothered to get dressed after they made love, and stood watching him from the doorway. Motionless, as if her slightest move could wake him, she watched- he would almost certainly live. He could have died twice in the past few years- both times she had been responsible for keeping him alive. The first time, three years ago, when he revealed to her what he could become, and now, when she was almost certain he had succeeded. If she had left him where she found him two days ago, starving and sick in the alley, he would be dead by now. Even now, in the half-light of the room, she thought she could see the mark of Cain- whoever harmed him would face the wrath of the Creator. One way or the other, she wouldn’t act out of fear. She would wait, and would either let him live or kill him out of love. If he intended to betray himself in order to succeed at destroying the Tep, it would be better that he was dead, and she would face whatever vengeance the Creator chose.