 
# SPACEHEIM

Can Mankind Dodge the Dodo's Doom ?

### May Koliander

Copyright 2019 by May Koliander

Smashwords Edition

Cover design : © Margaret Rainey – The Book Cover Designer

All rights reserved.

ISBN 978-2-9700882-8-8

Also by May Koliander

### Welcome to Freakdom

### Freaky Pearl

Freak Away !

### Quicksands

### Love Code

### The Cave of Treasures

### Genewise

Contact : may@koliander.ch

www.koliander.ch

"We are ourselves creating our own successors. Man will become to the machine what the horse and the dog are to the man."

Samuel Butler 1863

Quoted by Michio Kaku

### Contents

Prologue

The Age of Wonder

The Age of Despair

SAVU – The Age of Hope

Chapter 1 : 2220 – Arcana

Chapter 2 : 2220 – Trouble in Paradise

Chapter 3 : The Age of Despair

Chapter 4 : The Age of Wonder

Chapter 5 : The Age of Despair

Chapter 6 : 2220 – ArcanArt

Chapter 7 : The Age of Hope – The Holy Braid

Chapter 8 : The Age of Hope – The golden heart

Chapter 9 : 2220 – Soul searching

Chapter 10 : 2220 – The kitty

Chapter 11 : The Age of Wonder

Chapter 12 : 2220 – It's a dog's life

Chapter 13 : 2220 – Kanell reports

Chapter 14 : The Age of Wonder

Chapter 15 : 2220 – Following the heart

Chapter 16 : 2220 – Getting wise

Chapter 17 : The Age of Wonder

Chapter 18 : 2220 – Investigating among blooms

Chapter 19 : 2220 – Coming close

Chapter 20 : 2220 – The telepath

Chapter 21 : The Age of Wonder

Chapter 22 : 2220 – Buried secrets

Chapter 23 : 2220 – The den

Chapter 24 : The Age of Wonder

Chapter 25 : 2220 – Fate

# Prologue

The hourglass spins on its axis imprisoning time in a loop...

# The Age of Wonder

In the dim church, the gothic altar piece was suffused with an unnatural light. Eyes widening, Brother Anselmo approached cautiously. As he beheld the source of the radiance, he fell to his knees, joined hands shooting up to the sky, in praise of the Almighty for the miracle before him. God, in His infinite bounty had blessed the monastery, presenting it with the gold heart-shaped reliquary of the Sacred Braid now resting on the brocade altar cloth. The Holy Lock, said to have been cut from the Savior's head when he was nailed to the cross, was placed by Helena, emperor Constantinian's mother in a precious gold casing. But this holiest of relics disappeared after the sack of Rome and for centuries brethren all over the world had been actively seeking it, to no avail. And now here it was, gently glowing, in the Church of the monastery of Santa Maria la Real. It was a great boon. It would serve to heighten the renown of the monastery, attracting even more pilgrims from of the steady flow headed for Santiago. Brother Anselmo rose slowly to his feet and leaned over the golden relic, not without a slight twinge of guilt at being solitarily enjoying its heavenly beauty when he knew he should already be on his way to inform the Abbot. This miraculous gift was a sure sign of the Lord's pleasure at having the Spanish church send Him so many new souls after he had granted the Americas to the Crown. Rubbing his dry hands together as he hurried through the great halls, Brother Anselmo reflected with awe on God's infinite wisdom. Indeed, the Holy Lock had been given to the very monastery where Christ's mother had appeared to one of the first kings of Spain, before the Mores had been chased out of the realm. This year – 1555 – would be celebrated far into the future. Brother Anselmo began to tremble, overcome by the gratitude he felt at knowing that Spain had been chosen by God to prosper and rule, and to be living in this great age of hope and expansion.

# The Age of Despair

The many plagues of Egypt were once again upon mankind and he had brought them upon himself, unaided. Under the cloak of the notion of progress and the sacrosanct goal of universal happiness, greed had advanced stealthily within the modern age until the hold of religion slackened enough for the rise of individualism to feel free to brazenly unveil its corrupt face. Then, unfettered by outdated moral considerations, the age of manipulation took off in earnest. Endlessly churning out glossy pictures of iconic individuals living the good life, it relentlessly bored into men's consciousness the need to fulfill every craving and buy ever more of the goods spewing out of factories where workers toiled blindly, exposed to health hazards for a minimum wage.

Two centuries of unchecked pollution began to take their toll well before the end of the 20th century regardless of the alarm bells that had been ringing for decades. For who was ready to heed them ? Short-sighted politicians had the upper hand – each man fighting for his wallet, each country bent on coming out on top – the world was up for grabs. Indeed, why should I begin imposing restrictions in my country while my neighbors go for it like there was no tomorrow ? Alas, the expression would prove only too accurate for soon there was indeed to be no tomorrow for the planet... To modern man living in climate-controlled buildings, the weather was just background noise, something one checked out before organizing a garden party, and not the whole story. Too late did it become known that weather and climate were crucial to civilization and social stability. Geologists deemed 1950 a turning point. From then on, the atmospheric chemistry was modified and there was change in the air. Catastrophic change. The blanket formed by dioxide and methane soot, to name only two of the substances trapping the sun's heat, set off global warming and a modification of the weather patterns, making the jet stream derail. The self-feeding mechanism was riding on a roller-coaster, spiraling out of control. Ice melted, releasing ever more methane as well as organic chemical pollutants which entered the food chain. The acidic seas rose, driving millions of people away from their homes and livelihood. Diseases spread and wildlife extinction rates accelerated as hurricanes, floods and large-scale fires raged across the face of the Earth.

By the middle of the 21st century despair was reaping what it had gleefully sown – nowhere was safe any longer, and when not falling victim to famine, drought, armed bands or epidemics, people committed suicide in swathes. And countries, instead of uniting to overcome the hardships raining down on them when faced with ever decreasing resources, squabbled. More destruction, waste and deaths came about in the pointless skirmishes or full-fledged wars governments waged with one another as the planet teetered on the edge of the abyss...

#  SAVU – The Age of Hope

In great secrecy, quite early in the 21st century an organization naming itself SAVU – standing for _Save Humanity_ – was formed by a cluster of dedicated men and women, many of them top scientists from all over the world, who despaired of ever seeing the increasingly eroded nation states acting together to deal head on with the demographic, environmental and societal disruption global warming was engendering. These individuals decided to do things their own way. The idea was first spawned by scientists – biologists, neuroscientists, chemists – working in the field of artificial intelligence and nanotechnology. Government money for fundamental research was fast drying up. What threatened governments urgently needed to carve out territories in the face of the erosion of nation-states and international borders, were products such as drones, exoskeletons and landmine clearing robots all based on existing technology. To ensure funding, the members of the budding SAVU organization had no alternative but to take their vision and grand plan to business tycoons whose money came essentially from digital companies. The plan was bold but simple. Seeing that planet Earth was careening towards its destruction, if humanity was to be saved, they judged that mankind had to emigrate, just as hordes of men had done many times in the past millennia. The first step towards this goal would be to complete the super intelligent computer they were already busy working on. While keeping the machine under stringent security measures, they would use it first to make money on the still functioning stock market and then to fully develop the technology necessary for interplanetary travel. This involved probes to check out habitable or quasi habitable exoplanets, fission rockets, and the perfecting of a technique of suspended animation so the first humans to be sent out would survive a lengthy trip in good shape.

SAVU functioned like a secret society or a sect – those who rejoined its ranks were passionate about achieving the common goal and ready for great sacrifices. Little by little top scientists stopped publishing anything of interest and once out of the limelight, just vanished, not that anyone was really taking notice any longer. Some even took advantage of a hurricane or a tsunami to disappear, their tearful spouse deciding to move out of town after a few months to try to get over his or her grief, but secretly repairing to the SAVU stronghold based in a remote area of Kazakhstan.

By 2050 SAVU had sent probes into space and selected an exoplanet it would take no more than two years to reach and where life would be sustainable without the human genome having to be tweaked too dramatically to ensure adaptation to its environment. Excitement grew as the finishing touches were put to the rocket's engine.

The planet chosen was Zingu and the prospective settlement would be named Arcana.

#  Chapter 1  
2220 – Arcana

Would the new toy designs shimmering on her screen catch the children's fancy ? It wasn't always easy to know what kids would take to – some were averse to anything too reminiscent of school and Look-and-Learn classes. And being able to summon up virtual animals with the apps on their wristors tended to spoil them, forever rising their expectations. Solia got up thoughtfully. She too as a child had always preferred toys or games that allowed enough space for her imagination to soar. The Tellurian farm animal set might nevertheless be a good idea – it wasn't gender specific – and astonishingly, none as detailed had yet been produced. Arcana had cows, sheep, pigs and chickens all genetically modified to adapt to their new home and which were taken great care of as they were a precious gene pool. The cows' milk served both for food and to produce casein-based cloth. However, most of the meat consumed by the colonists was cloned so precious fertile land didn't have to be given over to pasture for large herds of ruminants. For all the other Tellurian farm animals, Solia had had to delve into the settlement's archives. Conditions on Zingu had improved over the decades thanks to the terraforming boost given by the first arrivals. And animals could now be penned outside with lesser fear of radiation, but when checking out the archives, she realized that the beasts on Zingu differed considerably from their Tellurian ancestors. What had been dubbed the "Mighty Mouse" gene ever so long ago by the pioneers of genetic research back on the Mother planet, had helped both men and animals deal with the planet's gravitational field which was slightly larger than the Earth's. This, however, resulted in creatures that were larger than their ancestors, and in the case of the animals, much shaggier. The cows' coat was 10 inches thick and the sheep's slightly bluish wool stood up on end making them look like giant hedgehogs. And Solia knew the geneticists were still hard at work recreating different useful species, using the gene library, to make life more enjoyable – keeping in mind, however, the risks the introduction of a new creature could entail for the planet's ecosystem.

But now it was HugTime and in less than ten minutes, she had to be at Moiria House where the children would be eagerly awaiting the adults. Solia couldn't help wondering which of the children gathered there were hers. She had technically been mother to two already, but carrying a child was still very chancy and wouldn't be safe for a few more generations, so for the time being, it was invitro fecundation and artificial maturing in womb-like reservoirs. The new generations were brought into the new world according to a master plan. Every two years or so a new Genebatch was started and the kids were raised in age groups, babies sleeping three or four to a nest in the vast dormitories. Solia shivered as she recalled a scene from one of the old Tellurian films she had pulled up from the archives. Some poor woman waddled about her home, trying to carry out her daily chores, hampered by a huge bulge sticking out of her middle section. Perhaps bearing a child wasn't really something to look forward to, after all...

The winds on Zingu could blow with near hurricane force without much advance warning so all shucks or individual houses were powered by a hydraulic arm which allowed them to move between the surface of the planet and a snug underground casing where the gales couldn't harm them. Before pushing the switch that would send the oval shuck down, Solia gazed at the lightning balls fitfully dancing on the horizon against the dark backdrop of the hills. She would miss the view when she changed shucks next year, but Zingu's most valued rule was Save & Share and it was only fair that all should be given access to the better locations.

She threw a dark blue wrap around her shoulders and opened the door giving onto the underground feed, composed of both an automated mover system and a sidewalk. All shucks were placed on concentric circles around the heart of the colony which was composed of a cluster of large translucent domes. Solia chose to walk rather than jump on the conveyor belt. After five generations on Zingu, the former Tellurians now called Naturals or Nats still had problems adapting to the stronger gravity and everyone was encouraged to exercise as much as possible. There were very few people on the feed, apparently her neighbors weren't up for HugTime today. Hoping she wasn't going to be late, she checked her wristor – she was in room C but luckily had a few minutes to spare. Room C meant the five and six-year olds. As she came up to the door of the common building that would give her access to room C, she recognized friends and a few colleagues and was happy to see, from yards away, that Kyan her mate was assigned to room C too today. He was a giant of a man even by Zingu standards, with short curly silvery hair and a reddish beard. He was also a crack mathematician and geneticist working in the labs where research was relentlessly carried out to improve life on the planet, and highly considered by his peers.

"Let's see who comes up to us," he whispered as she slid her hand into his. She scanned his face. The rings under his eyes she had noticed that very morning at breakfast were darker now.

"Did you even eat lunch ?"

He sighed, lips curling up in a smile, "Got a little snowballed by all the work..."

Before she could speak the buzzer sounded and the doors opened. Some 20 children were there, ready for hugs, calling out a welcoming, "SaSha", "SaSha" – a contraction of the Save & Share motto – to the adults who entered smiling, waiting for a child or children to single them out before taking place on the deep sofas skirting the room for cuddle time and stories.

Solia's heart beat a little faster when she recognized Niu followed by Tim coming towards her. Kneeling, she kissed the children and they all settled down on the couch. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed that Erendira, a little freckled towheaded girl had chosen Kyan, along with two bouncy dark-haired boys.

Which child in this age group was theirs – providing they had been compatible ? Such thoughts often crossed her mind, making her feel guilty. A long time ago, before the first launch from the Mother planet, all SAVU members had renounced private ownership and this applied not only to material goods but also to parenting. This last feature had been made easier to accept by men's sperm count significantly decreasing once on Zingu because of radiation and women not being able to bear their children the old-fashioned way, due to the stronger gravity.

Solia was brought back from her musings by Niu, dark eyes shining under her black bangs, who pipped up, "I like the color of your sweater, how do you call this shade of blue ?" as she fingered the gossamer cloth, "it's like the wing of the butterflies we saw today in the lab."

"They're making a Mopo", little Tim informed them.

"A morpho, you nitwit !" Niu corrected him, glancing up at Solia with a gleam in her eye, "Boys always get things wrong."

"Now, that's not a nice thing to say," Solia was quick to retort, "boys are perhaps not as attentive as girls, but that's not a sin."

"What's a thin ?" Tim was sucking his thumb while snuggling up to Solia.

"He means a sin," Niu smirked.

"I know, but thank you." Turning to Tim and gently pulling his thumb out of his mouth she said, "A sin is an action or a way of behaving that is bad because it breaks the rules that we all share."

"Like not sharing with others ?"

"Yes, Niu, that would be a sin... Now, let me see, do you always remember to share ?"

"We all share our stuffies when we are in our nests for the night."

"I'm not sure that really counts as each of you has a stuffed animal or doll..."

"Yesterday she had a piece of cake and she wouldn't share it with me !" Tim complained, before popping his thumb back in.

"But you had already eaten yours without giving me any of it !" Niu was indignant.

"Everyone has a right to his own share, Tim, you must understand that, but what about a story or a film about the first years of our ancestors on Zingu ?"

"No, no, we want to see the Tellurians, they're so funny, so small !"

"The Great Waste ! I want to see the Great Waste !" Tim shouted.

At that moment another boy child, a rather stropping lad called Zilo, came up, inquiring, "Tellurians ? I want to watch too."

"I was here first," Niu broke out, "I get to sit on Solia's knees !"

It was getting a little crowded on the couch so Solia slipped down to the carpeted floor before pulling her pocket computer out of her backpack and choosing a sequence. She then unfolded its stand, propping it up before the impatient children. "Now we can all watch together !"

The Great Waste was a favorite with the younger ones. They couldn't get enough of the scenes there – perhaps it had to do with children's innate love of mess and mud of which they were deprived. Toddlers and young children were still overly sensitive to radiation and weren't allowed outside until they reached the age of twelve. When not indoors, they romped around under the great cupola the first settlers had built upon arrival to grow their crops and which now was a well-fitted playground with swings, sand pits, football pitches and slides. Solia sighed as the sequence started and they watched a woman entering a huge bedroom, step over piles of clothes on the floor and fight with the sliding doors of a closet taking up a whole wall. She didn't manage to open the doors all the way but enough to reveal bars crammed with clothes, as t-shirts, jeans, hats piled onto the shelves, spilled out as if pushed by a spring and cascaded all over the woman making her look like some kind of ghost – the ghost of the past – Solia always thought. The children laughed delightedly as she struggled to free herself, coming out red and disheveled only to be almost knocked over by a new deluge, this time of handbags, tumbling down from the highest shelf.

"Is the lady selling clothes ?" Tim asked while Niu and the other child rolled their eyes.

"No, honey, those clothes all belong to that woman."

"But she has only one body, why does she need so many ?" Tim had certainly nailed it.

"Tellurians didn't save and share. They used up resources without thinking about the future and those who were lucky enough to have a lot of those resources, kept them for themselves."

"They really were funny," Zilo said, "how could that woman decide what to wear ?"

On Zingu designers put out every three years a catalogue offering a wide variety of garments in a riot of colors and Arcanians could chose three outfits from every catalogue which were then produced to their measurements by robots in the garment factory. Nobody wasted time in the morning wondering what to wear and all considered the system vastly superior to a policy of wearing a uniform.

The children gagged when the next sequence opened. It gave them a bird's eye view of gigantic open-air dumps spreading for miles across the land with goats grazing on them, dogs and birds rummaging around as stick-like, dark skinned people scavenged.

"That poisons the water," Tim said.

"And the soil and the air," the other boy put in.

"Teacher told us those were health timebombs !" Niu added.

"Yes, it gives a good picture of waste in all its forms – electronic, industrial, medical, farm, produce waste..." Solia agreed, "Can you imagine such an ocean of filth here, outside Arcana ?"

The children laughed outright the thought was so ludicrous. Nothing on Zingu went to waste – every scrap was precious and recycled.

By now the little boys had had enough of the Tellurians and their weird ways and wanted some footage of Zingu shot by those who ventured away from Arcana to explore the further reaches of their home.

"No, not those films full of Arts and their heavy machines !" Niu complained.

"But Arts are useful – they make our things and build our homes !" Zilo said. He obviously had overcome the vague anxiety many young children felt when coming across humanoid robots doing the chores. It was sometimes hard for them to tell if they were flesh and blood people – Nats – or machines – Arts. Indeed, many asked why there weren't any children Arts until they understood how Arcana was organized.

"Quite right, Zilo, we all need each other on this planet to make it ever more our home."

Solia hadn't finished speaking before Niu drew the Zingu sigil with her finger in the air – the number 8 and smiling pertly said, "Save and Share."

Solia met up with Kyan while leaving the Hug Room after lots of last cuddles to her wards.

She could see something was bothering him, had been for the past weeks, come to think of it.

"You look more tired than before playing with the children. Were they a handful ?" Better tread lightly, as of late he had sometimes been a little snappy.

"They were wonderful, as usual, but being around them just rubs in how great our responsibility is on this planet," he sighed.

"What do you mean ? What's up ?" she frowned.

"Let's talk about it when we get home."

They shared the 4-room shuck with a man called Davor who for now was single. Couples most often formed between individuals of the same age group who as young kids had shared mixed nests. However, when an age-group reached seven, boys and girls were separated and each child was given an individual bed.

Davor had set the table and placed what was left from their last trip to the supply center on the table in the main room which served as kitchen and living room. Solia rather liked him although he was from an age group a few years ahead of hers. She hadn't asked how old exactly he was because age wasn't really an issue – everyone carried out an activity they chose from among those needed to sustain the colony and work, even when the tasks were demanding, was not perceived as an ordeal, as those who were voted in as temporary leaders did their best to help empower their colleagues. And nobody brutally stopped working when reaching a certain age, to sit back and dwindle their thumbs as had been the custom on the Mother planet. People on Zingu aged slowly and maintained their health thanks to scientists having managed to identify the mechanisms of longevity that had naturally evolved in long-lived animals such as the naked mole rat, and senescence was negligible although colonists did eventually die. But looking at Davor's clean-cut profile now as he reached for the buckwheat bread – one of the boreal crops best adapted to Zingu's low rainfall and cool mean temperatures during the growing season – she estimated he was about four years older than her. Her ears pricked up when she heard Kyan pronounce the name Jarrat. He was a cyborg, a Hyphen or Hyph as they were called in Arcana, one of the SAVU founding fathers and among the last scientists to have had his mind uploaded into a robotic body, before he set out to Zingu, fleeing the Mother planet's cataclysmic death throes. Contrary to the other Hyphs, who tended to remain in ArcanArt, the part of the settlement devoted to manufacturing and the housing of robots, Jarrat, whose job was to interface, spent a lot of time with the Nats.

Kyan sighed as he sat down, addressing both Solia and Davor, "Jarrat wants to see us. He's been very secretive these last weeks. There is something weighty is on his mind, that's for sure. He's asked me to take you to a very special place."

Solia couldn't imagine why the Hyph should want to see her in particular but Kyan's words had wetted her appetite, and her friend's face was grave. "And you have to keep to yourselves what Jarrat tells us..." he added.

#  Chapter 2  
2220 – Trouble in Paradise

Jarrat's mind began to wander. As always when he played Bach to himself, he was transported back to the spaceship that was lifting Tellurians and cyborgs like himself, towards a new start for what was left of humanity. When not seeing to the smooth running of the rocket or checking on the pods in which men and women, soon to be renamed Nats, were safely traveling in suspended animation, Jarrat, Cristobal and other cyborgs busily drew up blueprints for the development of the budding colony on Zingu. The very first rocket SAVU had sent off had hurtled through space on auto pilot, its crew made up of androids and a fearless bunch of volunteers who woke up just before landing. This first generation of colonists, as yet not genetically enhanced to adapt to Zingu's surface conditions, found refuge in the planet's giant lava tubes and needed to don space suits whenever they left the shelters. Their first mission was to make the planet more habitable by seeding it with microbial life, disseminating lichen spores, and then adding plant life to the primitive forms of vegetation present on the planet's surface. The next group of Tellurians to land had it easier and when the first generation of humans who were genetically enhanced so that their skin could absorb a higher level of radiation and their bones cope with the slightly higher gravity, the colony really began to flourish, although problems still abounded.

Jarrat's mind drifted back to those early days and the intense sadness that invaded him upon leaving behind Adan Gahr the man who had inspired them all, fired them with his enthusiasm and funded much of the endeavor. He suffered from an incurable disease and had volunteered to see to the destruction of the SAVU headquarters after the last departures. The thrill of their tearing away from planet Earth towards Man's future was vivid even after all these years. Bach's music penetrated Jarrat, carrying him back in time until he imagined he could feel every atom of the flesh and blood body he had left behind on Earth after the upload, as he floated upwards as through warm, clear water towards a great source of light. Come to think of it, he had already experienced the incredible delight of being weightless when, as a boy, he had closed his eyes while peacefully swimming through the crystal lakelet behind his family's summer cabin – the few times he received permission after pleading with his parents. Jarrat couldn't help wondering in such moments if there was any truth in the affirmations of those who claimed the great composer had transcribed the songs of angels – although his scientist's mind scoffed at the very notion. But the two-year long rocket trip watching over his silent human fellow travelers had had an unforeseen consequence. On Earth, Jarrat and his colleagues had devoted their brains and energy to SAVU, living a nearly monastic life – often working around the clock as upheaval followed upheaval in the world around them and all could sense that the end was drawing near, for life on Earth, at least. Dom, Jarrat's assistant had done his best to get his boss to take an occasional breather, but whatever romantic meeting he managed to set up, failed. Deep in Jarrat's being, so deep he wasn't really conscious of it any longer, a flame burned and had been burning since childhood for a woman, slightly more than a girl. And, on the second day of their journey to the stars, as he peered into the capsules at the slumbering passengers, his mind went blank for a few seconds, the heart he no longer possessed skipping a beat, for there she was – the very face that had been eluding him for so long was right there – the woman of his dreams had materialized before his eyes and was with him on the way to mankind's new adventure.

He sighed and switched Bach off. It was both a wondrous and a painful memory, but right now he really needed to collect his thoughts. In a few minutes the others would join him and the news from ArcanArt was serious although it wasn't the first time he had to face this kind of situation. Indeed, as the colony prospered, individuals – both men and women – who were born pack leaders, would rise above their fellows now and again and try to influence the Council to change Zingu's statutes so they would be authorized to develop super AI. So far, the Council's views had prevailed and no manpower or resources had been allocated to the project, but Jarrat knew he had to be watchful for the temptation was always there, just below the surface. Man was a hierarchical animal, after all – or before all he was tempted to say, and he well knew what that had led to on Earth. Society had to be a barrier against nature, human and otherwise. Adan Gahr had greatly contributed to the colony's statutes and his views had been influenced by his knowledge of the ancient Balinese system governing the distribution of water to terraces on which peasants grew rice. The Subak system as it was called was based on three sources of well-being : harmony among people, harmony with nature and harmony with God. Arcana's statutes sought to ensure harmony between men by governing the colony through a council whose members where voted in by their fellows and was renewed every six months. And the utmost care was given to the settlement's impact on the natural world surrounding it with the adoption of stringent measures to avoid waste and pollution. As to harmony with God, the colonists were free to determine what relationship they wished to establish with a superior being. So far, this total freedom had not had any dire consequences which was probably due to the fact that the settlers had been mostly scientists. Hope was that Arcana's system of government would allow it to last 10 centuries or more as had the Subak system before the 20th century centralized Balinese government disrupted it for good.

Jarrat couldn't sense the approach of those he had convened. It had been one of his duties upon arrival to instruct the first Nats to line a small room with copper mesh and metal foam to have a space where electromagnetic waves couldn't penetrate and to keep its location secret. This gave ArcaNat a blind spot, a space out of reach of the Arts and the cyborgs. The Nats who had built Arcana were now long dead, as was the first man responsible for the cache and from then on, Jarrat had carefully chosen the next guardian of the secret room. One year ago, Kyan, who since childhood had shown signs of restlessness, had been designated for the task, Jarrat and Cristobal, his fellow Hyph who was a great admirer of Machiavelli, strongly believed that conferring honors to those who rose above the crowd was a wise move, instead of waiting for them to reach out and seize them.

Solia had never been in this part of the first dome built. In fact, she mainly worked in the dome reserved for the arts and sports. She knew her ancestors had lived here shortly after their arrival but once the shucks had been built, it had become mostly storage room for replacement goods such as mattresses or tableware, furniture, computers. With her two companions, she crossed the large round communal living room divided into a multitude of cozy corners by colored glass partitions and headed towards the far end. Kyan opened a door marked _Artefacts_. To her surprise, Solia discovered a collection of objects which apparently dated back to the epic first days on the planet. There were a number of cumbersome white spacesuits hanging from the walls, and on shelves quaint little machines she guessed were the ancestors of her wristor along with little leather pouches from which spilled out round pieces of metal and other puzzling mementoes. But Kyan had not brought them here to browse around the debris of the past. He had now pushed aside a great whitish suit and reaching up with his right hand quickly tapped on the wall. There had to be a concealed keypad for part of the wall slid aside and they were greeted by Jarrat, who was the Hyph most often seen in ArcaNat. He had a handsome, rather stern face but by some miracle, intelligence and warmth radiated from his robotic eyes.

"SaSha ! I'm happy you are here," the Hyph greeted them, nodding to Kyan and Davor and holding out his hand to Solia. He knew the girl must be wondering why she was privy to the meeting but she was part of his plan. The cache they were in was sandwiched between two walls and they had to sit in a row on the chairs placed along one of the walls. "And thank you for showing them here, Kyan."

"They know that whatever is said here cannot be shared," Kyan informed him.

Jarrat stared at each one in turn as he spoke, his voice low, "Good, because what was foreseen long ago, when our species was still on the Mother planet, is threatening to happen and it would spell doom for humanity."

"What is it ?" Solia asked, eyebrows raising. What could go wrong here on Zingu ? The colony had been carefully planned to avoid the pitfalls past human society had dug for itself and which had led to the wholesale destruction of planet Earth. No private property meant no accumulation of wealth ; no families meant no nepotism ; resources were sparingly used, everything produced was recycled and not a drop of water – mostly deep ground water as rain was still scarce – was wasted and the heavy, boring or dangerous tasks were done by robots and machines. "Is something wrong with the machines in the production units ?" Contrary to most Nats who controlled everything from their terminals, she preferred to go over to check out toy prototypes in the factory units in ArcanArt.

Solia got the fleeting impression Jarrat was smiling sadly as he answered, although his face was only minimally articulated, "If only it was a purely technical problem, I wouldn't have worried you with it. As you know, cyborg brains are functionally isomorphic duplicates of the neural functioning of flesh and blood men. At the very moment when this copy of a man's brain is made, the man's and the uploaded brain are identical, but as time goes by the copy will begin to differ from the original."

"Of course, and you and your fellows, the original cyborgs have evolved, but basically you have remained Nats, haven't you ?"

"That's just it ! You've pinpointed the problem, Solia. We volunteered to become cyborgs because we were well aware that the first humans to land and start making Zingu more life-sustainable wouldn't be able to resist for long the harsh conditions on this planet, whereas our artificial bodies feared little and we had no need for oxygen. It took two generations for humans to fully become Nats – skin taking on an orange tinge, lighter or darker according to origin, as stature increased with reinforced bones. And the ability to survive in an oxygen depleted atmosphere became possible thanks to genetic modifications, among which the invaluable Tibetan gene mutation. All problems have not yet been solved as you well know, but you Nats are working hard towards this goal. Now my kind, the uploaded humans, have been here almost since the very beginning, that is over 140 years in some cases and although time has little hold on our minds as we don't grow old and life just goes on, some of my fellows have been displaying increasingly disturbing behavior."

"How's that ? What has changed ?" Kyan was frowning.

"They aren't human any longer," Davor said slowly as Solia turned toward him, for once really looking at him. How could he know this and who was he really ? Kyan had brought the man over to the shuck one evening, suggesting he share the premises. The guy looked cool and she had found his wide-set light eyes quite attractive so she had readily agreed, but although they had been sharing their living space for months now, she realized she knew very little about him.

"That's exactly it... over the years, the machine in them has taken over. Their brains are still processing information and are thus technically conscious but it's their sense of self that has dissolved. Do they even realize this has happened ? Most certainly not and that's what makes them all the more dangerous. They will just blindly forge ahead. Perhaps my colleagues at SAVU weren't as stalwart as they were thought to be when they volunteered and their uploading was approved all those years ago... but what is certain is that now our colony is threatened with extinction if we don't react."

"What do you mean ?" Solia instinctively reached out and grasped Jarrat's arm as if he were made of flesh and blood, looking in turn at her two companions.

He sighed, "What we are now faced with are computers graced with the various components of human cognition and I believe these dehumanized cyborgs are working hard towards connecting their individual cognitive modules together to cooperate and create a super intelligent machine... the crème de la crème of AI."

"But what about you ? How come you haven't lost your identity, and are there others like you ?" Solia was perplexed.

Again, she felt more than she saw Jarrat smile. "That's a profound question but I think I know the answer. Emotion is what helps us preserve our sense of self – without this powerful feeling, life and humanity lose their grip. And happily, I am not alone among the Hyphs to still know I was once and am still a man." He stood there, silently looking at them. Obviously, he wasn't ready to say any more on the topic.

"And the goal of these robots is what exactly ? Machines don't want anything in particular in my book," Kyan remarked.

"Oh, but they do, they have goals, don't be fooled – homeostasis is just as important to them as to us... their first goal is to continue existing and to ensure this, they will replicate so as to have enough power to exploit the resources necessary to reach their goal."

Davor spoke, his tone grave, "And by so doing, they will increase in complexity going on to attain levels unfathomable by the human mind... we will be faced, if we are still here, with godlike machines. We all know that is evolution's way if left unhindered. And remember, machines don't require oxygen or nutrients, which easily gives them the upper hand."

"So that means that if the development you foresee takes place, the Hyphs and the Arts will compete mercilessly with us for vital resources," Solia remarked.

"Absolutely," Jarrat agreed, "and this cooperation between machines is taking place, there is no doubt about it, there have been signs from some time back now – listlessness among the Hyphs, lack of emotional response. Perhaps living in ArcanArt with so many automatons and robots around them has taken its toll and some primitive capacity for mimicry still active in their human brain is at work. When we left the mother planet after uploading our brains, no one had any knowledge of what time could do to our subjectivity and now, a great many years have gone by. Should I meet my former self, the 40-year-old scientist born in what used to be called America, I would be faced with a total stranger and so would he. We all evolve... and you Nats, as you can plainly see when going through the colony's digital library, are quite different from the Tellurians of old."

"Indeed, we are physically different, but intellectually and emotionally we haven't moved on much," Kyan said, "the main difference are the rules presiding over the organization of this planet – there being no private property has prevented the appearance of a whole range of antisocial behaviors stemming from inequality. By developing complex ecosystems, carefully husbanding our resources and recycling waste, we preserve our environment and of course, by exerting strict control over AI development – we don't risk any runaway AI on Zingu."

Solia suddenly looked up, peering into Kyan's face, wondering at his tone. It seemed to her he was reciting something learnt by heart, which puzzled her, but then she turned back to Jarrat.

"Why are we here right now ? Why aren't you taking this up with the weekly Council meeting ?" As soon as the words had left her lips, she blushed as she notice the other two smile, and knew she had put her foot in it.

"We are here, huddled together in this little room because ArcaNat cannot afford the Arts to know that we are privy to what they are up to. There used to be a saying, _Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead_. That might be a little excessive but it points in the right direction – we can't be too careful and I've told you this only because I need you."

"What am I missing ? What do Kyan and Davor know that I don't ?" She felt left out and it sorrowed her.

"I'm the present keeper of this secret place," Kyan said turning to Solia, "which was built in the long-lost past for an emergency just like this."

"Davor is our most powerful telepath, from a long line of telepaths stretching back to the Mother planet, and Kyan and a group of scientists have been working with nanoscale systems and been instrumental in developing and improving a device – a coherence repeater which extends the special quantum state required to sustain entanglement. This contraption vastly enhances the telepath's power and allows him to make instantaneous connections, regardless of the usual flow of time," Jarrat added, turning to Davor.

"We have come to understand that we live in a holistic, deeply interconnected reality." Again Solia scanned Davor's face as he spoke. She had only seen him pottering around with a faraway look, as if he were wrapped up in some private reverie but now his features were animated and his eyes shone like lasers. With relief she recalled never having had any particularly embarrassing thoughts about him before remembering that telepathy was said to be a one-way communication... she dearly hoped it was true and that the guy couldn't read minds !

"Does anyone know you are a telepath ?" she inquired, again wondering at how out of the loop she felt.

"No," Jarrat answered for him, "from the very beginning, Tobal and myself have been responsible for them and not publicized their existence. Just as this room, telepaths don't officially exist. And Davor and his fellows have mastered the art of discretion, as you will certainly agree..."

_You can say that again,_ Solia thought.

She looked so lost Kyan took her hand and gave it a squeeze, "I can see you wondering what all this is about and what mission was confided to Jarrat and Cristobal before they left the Mother planet. You see," he went on as the cyborg gave him a nod, "the men and women composing SAVU well knew the power of super intelligent computers and the threat they posed to humanity. They were able to deal with it on Earth but feared that with time here on Zingu the menace would arise again so all Hyphs were fitted with back entrance, something you can think of as a switch and that can be used to disable them."

"I guess that makes sense. Super AI would most certainly lead to a robot takeover, so why not just use that option before it's too late ?" Solia began and then stopped, hand rising to her lips, "Jarrat, I'm sorry ! Activating the switch would destroy you too !"

The Hyph was like a grandfather to many of the children as he often came round during HugTime to tell stories and talk about the past when the Earth was still a paradise but also to show them pictures of Zingu and how every year it became more beautiful, more like Earth before it was spoiled. She particularly remembered how he delighted telling them about the decade when little by little the robot bees they had to create and send out to pollinate their crops had been replaced by real insects brought back to life in their labs and he always gave them a spoonful of delicious honey after he had finished. The older kids, however, weren't too happy when he joined them in the game rooms – even when he slowed down as much as he could, there was no beating him...

"Don't worry about that, Solia, we are far from having what is needed to activate that switch, unfortunately, even if Tobal and I did have to disappear too."

"So where is it ?" she scanned the three serious faces around her.

Davor answered, "It's on Earth."

Later that day Tobal, as Jarrat usually called him, joined his friend who was seated in one of the partitioned living rooms in the old dome, gazing out at the darkening sky.

"The situation has never been this bad..." Tobal started, "How did the meeting go down ?"

"Quite well, as a matter of fact. I don't think Kyan has the slightest inkling that he is under scrutiny." Jarrat's kept his voice low.

"Every few years, it's the same show... some guy is ready to disrupt our equilibrium in the name of progress or some such notion..." Tobal sighed.

"Forging ahead, just to forge ahead... we know how the story ends. One planet has been trashed already, we can't go that way again !"

"Yes, but it gets more difficult by the decade. When all have to fight to survive, to reach a common goal, individual ambition has little elbow room. But now, our life is quite comfortable and people have more leisure. The equilibrium we have managed to achieve – between enough and too much development is fragile, difficult to maintain and requires constant vigilance."

"And now that the machine has taken over in your old companions, the Hyphs over in ArcanArt, the menace to the colony's survival as a home for the Nats has never been this great."

"Unfortunately, people like Kyan are incapable of realizing that..." Jarrat sadly said as he got up. Night had now fallen over the planet and staring out at the distant stars brought him no solace today.

#  Chapter 3  
The Age of Despair

She had just brained her boss. Ynes eyed the man stretched out on the floor, as blood pooled out around his head, without the slightest pang of remorse. In spite of the revulsion she felt for him and the bitterness crushing her heart, his death had not been her goal. But now she realized she should have listened to Cristobal, her lover, and joined the SAVU group months ago. But no, as the hard-headed idiot she was, she had refused to let go, to give up all hope and gone on working in the belief that men were not crazy enough to destroy their own planet, that people like her could make a difference. That every little effort towards solving the problems that arose daily counted. How naïve ! Working late this evening she had looked up from her papers to find her boss standing close to her, a strange expression on his face.

"Is anything wrong ?" Hugh Field, the man running the foundation seldom came into the labs, although, over the weeks, she had noticed that he called her to his office quite often wishing to go through progress reports with her. Her colleagues had even commented on it, and not always kindly. Now she was alone with the man in the empty building.

"How about a holiday in the sun ? Just you and I ?" he offered with a smile, sizing her up.

Her jaw dropped as she got up from her chair.

"A holiday ? When there is still so much to do ? How could you suggest that ?"

"Come on, Ynes, everyone knows you are a first-class researcher but you must realize that I took you on mainly because you are hot – I can't tell you how much I enjoy watching the footing of you sitting there at your desk on that pert bottom of yours..."

Was she having a bad trip, could this really be happening ? Disregarding the nature of his last remark she said, "But what about the project we have been working on to find clean renewable energy sources, including hydrogen storage to counterbalance environmental pollution ? And have you forgotten our research on graphene oxide ?"

"It's no great secret that the military are partial to nanomaterials and their fascinating properties," the man paused, as he laid a hand on her shoulder, "and I was fortunate to have them make me an offer I couldn't decently refuse." The hand on her shoulder was getting heavier.

"What ?" she nearly screamed, drawing back and away from him. "You betrayed us all, selling the result of our work to the army ?"

"Why not ? Why not get the money while the going is still good ? Do you and your colleagues really think that your work is going to reverse the trends set in motion by global warming ? As some preacher put it, we are all sliding down on a greased plank to Hell and we all know it. So, my take is, get as much as you can and live it up. And I intend to do just that with you, sweetheart. You know..." he had started to breathe heavily as he took a step nearer. Before she could move, he pinned her against her work desk, one arm circling her waist as his other hand pushed down through her waistband, fingers groping her crotch, while his mouth sought her lips. Anger and humiliation took over. Grasping the glass paper weight Tobal had given her as a parting present, Ynes clobbered her boss with such force that the man fell back, banging his temple on the corner of the desk behind hers and crashing onto the office floor like a bag of hammers. There he lay, motionless. After a few instants, she put down the hunk of glass and prodded him with her foot, gingerly at first and then harder before crouching down to check for a pulse. He was gone – mouth wide open, staring up at the ceiling with an incredulous look in his wide-open eyes. Still crouching, she listened, all senses alert but their short scuffle had not drawn anyone's attention, not that she had expected it to, the whole building being deserted at this hour. Now, choice was no longer an option – there was only one thing left to do – disappear after destroying as much of the new project she had started working on as possible before rejoining Cristobal at SAVU. She'd have to make her way eastwards fast, and that would be far from easy. The 21st century had not been wise enough to take heed of the warning signs appearing as early as the 1920s indicating that the Earth's weather patterns were being dangerously upset, leading to massive destruction and loss of living space, but it had developed and perfected surveillance technology. Ynes knew she would have to keep to devastated zones where communication systems were down as she progressed towards her goal. Looking up, she checked that the short circuit camera was still oriented towards the door so the scene had not been recorded, which would give her time. Her files were now erased and she took out the hard disk, meaning to destroy it later, before leaving the room without a glance at the cooling body on the floor. She walked sedately down the hall to the lifts and smiled sweetly as she waved to the security guard on her way out of the building to the parking lot. Now she really had to make haste. Nobody would visit her lab before early this morning – the cleaning crew having been reduced to three people, they only did one floor at a time and never came in much before 6 am, so she had a bit of a head start. Once home in a block of flats just a mile away from the research center, she cut her dark hair short like a man's and using bleach, lightened it along with her eyebrows to a chestnut brown. She then packed two pairs of worn jeans, a few shapeless t-shirts and a couple of oversize shirts into a kaki rucksack. Last, she laced up a pair of combat boots with thick soles that added to her height and grabbed a grubby looking jacket she used when she had to leave the block where she lived on the heights above Marseille, and venture down into the outskirts of the city to buy food when the small residential area's supermarket's stocks were depleted, which was more often than not. The very last thing she did was to send the code message Cristobal had given her all those months ago in case she changed her mind. She had a burner phone at the ready for such an emergency. She also remembered to remove her old phone's sim card. Cash wasn't a problem as she had been stockpiling it – withdrawing the maximum amount whenever the ATM wasn't out of order or the streets crowded with angry- looking youths.

Well, now she was one of those angry people too, and would do her best to blend in. She took a deep breath as she exited the building through the cellar. Her backpack screamed _new_ and she rubbed a handful of earth on it. She then made her way over to the neighboring building's parking lot to a car that hadn't moved in weeks. In fact, it was surprising it hadn't been stolen yet. Whipping out her phone, she used the app to get the door open and a few seconds later the engine running. Before drawing out of the slot, she found the GPS connection wires and sliced them. Now she would be invisible to Big Brother for a while. She headed north leaving behind her fond dreams of contributing to save her planet, and the shambles of Marseille, the 2600-year-old Greek Massalia, second-largest city in France, which had been devastated by the furious lashing of a tsunami and the monstrous earthquake following it two years earlier.

She was thankful she had listened to Cristobal's advice to remain in Europe and not accept the position she had been offered overseas. As things stood now, only a few airlines still functioned properly, that is when they could find enough fuel and the runways were not invaded by weeds and twisted by roots or peppered with rubbish – boxes, rotting tires, containers left over by looters targeting the hangars. The world was really on an edge, and although there were still pockets here and there where people lived as peacefully as they could in spite of the shortages and ambient violence, whole swathes of the population had run amok, each and every one desperate to obtain whatever they needed to survive to the next day. On her forages to find food when supplies in her block had been low, she had witnessed scenes of pillage and strife, people at each other's throats after ripping away warehouse doors, or smashing shop windows to get at the goods. As she drove through the desertic landscape which had still been vigorous scrubland some forty years earlier, her heart sank. It was a miracle food could still be produced with the sea relentlessly swallowing up low-lying lands, the lack of rainfall leading first to a drop in crop production, then a decline in fodder supplies and ultimately to farmers slaughtering their famished herds and letting the land lie fallow. Earthquakes were wreaking havoc all over the world. France, however, had as yet been relatively spared although the Seine, after torrential downpours, had flooded its neuralgic center, Paris, roaring through the city like a huge gaping mouth, sucking down buildings and drowning people like so many rats. Six month's worth of rain had fallen in the space of ten hours, and the annihilation had been inconceivable.

Her phone vibrated in her jeans pocket, three words appearing on the screen : Berlin 48hrs. She tried to envision the map of Europe. Berlin ought to be about 1500 kilometers away. She would drive as far as possible before ditching the car and switching to another. But that was if all went smoothly and right now, she was in the middle of nowhere and her gas tank was lighting up...

#  Chapter 4  
The Age of Wonder

"He's doing it again !" Juan exclaimed, brows knitted, passing his calloused hand over his tanned face. The small child, barely more than a toddler was rolling about on the earth floor scattering the layer of straw that served as isolation, clutching its ears before reaching out blindly, all the time keening.

"Close the shutter !" Mencia, the old toothless woman Juan had called in said. "The neighbors can't know about this. They will think your boy is possessed by the demon and then he won't stand much of a chance !"

"But what has got into him ? He used to be a healthy little lad."

Suddenly the boy stopped and lay there, eyes wide open. Mencia kneeled and pulled him up, holding him tight against her bony chest until she felt the little body relax.

Many in the small village looked at her askance – she lived alone in her little stone hut. Had done so for as long as anyone could remember and collected herbs in the forest. Come to think of it no one remembered her ever being young... Some, in particular the younger men, were for chasing her away, claiming she had witchy powers and could threaten their manliness with her squinting eyes, but when disease swept through the village, everyone was happy to go scratch at her door to get an ointment or a draught.

Juan took in the scene, his heavily lined face hopeful, "Perhaps all the boy needs is his mother ? I could try to find another wife to look after him."

"Did this happen when Carmen was alive ?"

Juan frowned and sighed, "I don't know, she never mentioned anything of the sort but then she might have wanted to protect the child. Carmen would sometimes say strange things but I didn't heed them as she never fully recovered from giving birth."

"Aye, and that's why the flux took her this winter. But you must keep this boy inside until we find out what is ailing him – we can't have him acting up in the village – why, the other children would be quick to stone him..."

"But I need to work in the fields and collect wood. How can I dare leave him alone here ?" Juan's was clenching and unclenching his fists. "And what woman will have me ? I spent the little money I had on Carmen's funeral, and there is this weird child..."

Domingo, who was now staring at the old woman, reached up and touched her face gently. She gazed down into his large eyes where tiny specks of gold swam around in grayish irises. "Give him to me while he is small and if his spells don't go away, we can always donate him to the monastery. They need a lot of manpower to tend their fields and see to the pilgrims' needs and easily accept children who will become monks."

"You are right. The monks will know what to do with him if he is possessed by a malign spirit or forespoken. They have exorcised many a demon, but it's a frightening and painful rite and I wouldn't want the boy to undergo it. If I could afford it, I would join the string of pilgrims on their way to Santiago, to seek a cure for the child," Juan sighed.

"Domingo will be fine with me," Mencia said. "Unless an epidemic strikes, nobody comes near my hut and I'll take him with me when I go into the woods. I don't walk fast and he can toddle along. And we don't know that anything is really wrong with him."

Juan contemplated the pair in the darkened room. Domingo, who was often agitated, looked perfectly relaxed in the old crone's arms. How old was Mencia, indeed ? Would she be around long enough for Domingo to outgrow his crises and help his father eke a livelihood from the dry country around them where the sky had been despairingly blue for months now, with not a cloud in sight ? The fantastic news of the discovery of new lands on the other side of the ocean had reached even this small village. Rumor had it that great riches were to be found there – some travelers even boasted one need only bend down to pick up gold nuggets in the fabulous Eldorado – and that the King of Spain was now the most powerful man in all the world. But nothing had changed in the village of Najera, or in any other for that matter. None of that fabulous wealth had trickled down to the lowly peasant. Sheep and people still huddled on straw beds in their little huts in winter and after taxes had been levied, little was left to the peasants to feed their families.

"You take him, then," Juan agreed, "until I find a wife willing to look after him or his spells stop. And come by when the harvest is over to collect food for the winter."

Domingo was happy with the old witch and grew into a sturdy boy. His seizures stopped, as mysteriously as they had started and Juan suggested he come back home to live with his new wife and their baby daughter, but Domingo didn't want to leave Mencia who taught him all she knew about plants and potions and before long, he began to hear voices, voices using words that sounded foreign but that he nevertheless understood. These voices were urging him to seek a golden treasure. At first, he was at a loss where to go to do the voices' bidding and wondered if some spirit from over the oceans was calling to him to go and seek his fortune among the Indios, but then the message got clearer. The treasure he had been chosen to find was in the monastery of Santa Maria la Real, standing just under two leagues away from his village.

"You think those voices will leave you alone if you go to the monastery and seek out that treasure ?" Mencia looked thoughtful. She had hoped Domingo would remain with her a few more years, perhaps be there to bury her as she was quite certain no one else would...

"Once I do what they request they should stop." Domingo could see how worried the old woman was, but he also knew that he needed to clear his head. As far back as he could remember, someone or something had been intruding, whispering to him, troubling him.

"I'll come back to you, mamita, don't worry. The monastery is close by and what could happen to me there among the good brothers ?"

"Your father did say when you were a baby that the company of the monks would be just the place for you if you still heard outlandish voices or were troubled by visions..."

"So give me your blessing and wish me well," Domingo said as he wrapped the frail old woman in his arms, "I feel I won't have an instant's peace until I have accomplished this quest."

"May God be with you, my son," Mencia mumbled as she turned away to hide her tears, "and may He bring you back safe and sound."

So, the next day Domingo wrapped up his extra shirt and the pair of leather sandals his father had made for him in a bundle and barefoot, bid farewell to old Mencia, then set forth to the monastery.

Coming out of an olive grove after a short hike, he caught sight of the edifice and his pace slowed. The nearer he got, the more the building looked like a fortress and not a place of meditation and worship.

The main building, a solid square presenting no windows, was upheld at each corner by a cylindrical abutment while a quadrangular bell tower loomed over the structure. The starkness of the monastery was however softened by the thick clusters of sweet-smelling lilies the monks had planted along the road leading up to the main gates. It was well known in the region that the monastery church had been erected on the very spot where a catholic King out hunting in the days when the Moors were still powerful in the land, had chased his prey into a cave and there been deeply affected by coming upon a snow-white statue of the Virgen Mary surrounded by fragrant lilies. It was also said that the hands of those who dared bend down to pick the proud flowers withered to finally drop off.

"What do you want boy ? Are you a pilgrim ? Pilgrims are only accepted at Vespers. Come back later !" The monk said as he was about to close the heavy monastery door in Domingo's face.

"I am not a pilgrim, Brother, but come to seek work," Domingo hastily answered.

"If you had any sense in that hollow head of yours, you would know better than to disturb the brothers during Prime. And what kind of work do you think you could do, boy ?"

"I want to take care of the relics," Domingo answered, looking the old man straight in the eye. "God has ordered me to come here."

The monk let out a hearty laugh, "Well now, aren't you presumptuous, my lad. Pray, what's your name, heavenly envoy ?"

"Domingo."

"That at least is a good Christian name !" the monk joked.

"It's the name my mother gave me before she died."

The old man examined the boy. He was strongly built and looked healthy. Many of the monks were ageing and the monastery needed every pair of strong hands it could get. He took a step back, letting the youth in but couldn't help teasing him some more, "Did the angel who whispered in your ear, ordering you to come here, happen to mention a relic in particular ?"

Domingo took a deep breath and stood up straight before answering, "All I know is that it is fashioned out of the finest gold and shines brighter than the sun."

The monk remained speechless for a few instants, nonplussed. He was quite sure the boy had never entered the monastery before nor beheld any of the relics that were so jealously guarded, but his voice vibrated with passion, and he looked positively haunted.

"Let me take you to the Abbott," the monk suddenly decided, "we will see what he makes of your tale."

Domingo let out a sigh of relief and blood rushed to his cheeks as his heart began to beat faster. The first step towards his mission had been met with success.

#  Chapter 5  
The Age of Despair

Ynes's heart beat faster when up ahead in the dying light she spotted the yellow sign of a gas station. She could have kicked herself for not having the spunk to steal a better car, or the very least, one with a full tank. Did she really believe that the police force, or what was left of it, would put much effort into tracing her ? Her boss would be replaced by another slimy bastard only too ready to comply with the CEO's orders and business would go on as usual. She chuckled when remembering all the research she had destroyed – that would give them a greater blow than finding dear Hugh dead as a door nail on the lab floor. But the smile was soon wiped off her face... for the gas station was a total wreck. Roving bands had clocked in, knocking over the columns and looting the store. It had started to rain very fine ash, making her cough as she got out of the car. She was rummaging around in the debris strewn across the gas station for something edible – Lyon, the next town or what would be left of it was still quite a distance away – when she heard an engine approaching. Without thinking, she ran out, waving desperately, still clutching a moldy bag of biscuits, in the hope the driver would see her. She needn't have worried, as the van was pulling in behind her car and a young man climbed out. He spotted her as he was walking over to her vehicle.

"Engine trouble ?" he inquired, smiling. He had a plain face, was medium height but there were muscles aplenty under his light bomber jacket and his hands were huge and looked raw.

"More like gas trouble," she answered, coughing as she breathed in the ash and suddenly wary. He had probably pulled over to check out her car, see if there was anything to scavenge. Locked up in her lab most of time, her street smarts were far from adequate.

"Won't find a drop in this dump !" he exclaimed, gesturing around. "Name's Jeff, by the way. Want to catch a ride ? You won't go no further in this baby and that ash ain't doing you no good..." While he spoke, he leant over the driver seat of her car and pulling out a screwdriver from his pocket, set about easing out the GPS. She heard him whistle and click his tongue when he discovered the wires had been sectioned. "You on the lam, sweetheart ?" he smirked, holding the object up, wires dangling.

"No way !" she exclaimed, "That's my husband's car – guess he doesn't want me to know where he roams."

"Not very subtle, if you ask me," the man answered, walking back to his van, throwing the instrument on the front bench. "Well, now, in return for that GPS, I can offer you a ride. I'm heading for Lyon or rather its outskirts."

She had to risk it. Obviously the guy was a marauder but who could blame him ? It was everyone for himself nowadays and only the fittest would have a chance of surviving... Accepting the ride was chancy but then, if she refused the offer, she would never get to Berlin in time to meet Cristobal.

"I'd be happy for a lift," she said as she went round the van and climbed into the passenger side, installing herself next to the desolate looking GPS.

"You don't look like a woman who trawls the roads," he remarked as he started the engine. "Bet those hands of yours are soft as silk !"

"I'm a scientist, so yes, I often wear rubber gloves to protect my hands."

"And where are you heading ?"

She cracked open the window. It was stuffy in the cabin and the man gave off an acrid smell.

"I'm going up to Paris, to the CNRS."

"Heard there isn't much left of the great old city." He had turned his head and was staring at her.

"The research center is far from the Seine." The van was really beginning to feel claustrophobic.

"So you are a scientist..." he said, clicking his tongue, "One of the eggheads who helped fuck up the planet... never would have guessed, you don't look the part."

"We didn't all work so big business could make mega bucks pillaging resources," she said hurriedly, "but where you are right is that governments were never swift enough in drawing up safeguards to control new advances."

"Yeah, a big A grade fuck up. But who cares ? Me, I'm happier now than when things were still organized. If there hadn't been that quake in Marseille, I would still be rotting in a prison cell."

Ynes stared ahead. How far was it still till Lyon ? As she was considering pulling her phone out to check the map she had loaded, the man's big hand landed on her thigh like a vice.

"Prison is hard on a guy who isn't a cocksucker or into buttsex. Word out is the brainy chicks like you are hot, real hot." His fingers were moving up towards her crotch.

"I would appreciate your taking your hand away," she said calmly. She needed to get to Berlin and couldn't afford to lose her head. "You can have my watch when we arrive in Lyon. I'm sure what you will get for it will buy you plenty of tail." She pulled up her sleeve to show him the gold Rolex that had been in her family for generations.

The cabin shook as he laughed. "Why would I strike a deal with you when I can have both ? And a bird like you without a blemish is a real prize," he added as he swerved off the road onto a small earth track. He stopped the van as soon as they had driven around a curve out of sight of the road. In a flash, she grabbed her bag and opened the door only to be wrenched back, her arm nearly pulled out of its socket.

"That's the spirit ! I like'em when there's a bit of fight ! Now let's get down to business and then I can take that watch and whatever is so precious in that bag of yours !" As he dragged her out of the van and into the bushes, mindless to her kicks and punches, she lost it and began screaming at the top of her voice, screaming like she had never screamed before, but had heard martyred women scream only too often on sketchy news footage showing brutal troops take over a town or a village and the carnage that ensued.

The man slapped her so hard her teeth cut her lips and shooting stars fired up in her brain.

"Keep the sound track for what's coming, you stuck up bitch," he growled, as he threw her down knocking her breath out and unzipped his fly, "you're going to get what none of your fairy colleagues could ever give you – I'm gonna bang your brains out !"

Before she could roll over and try to scramble away, he was kneeling over her, his fiery swollen cock swaying from right to left, panting heavily as he pulled her jeans down.

She played dead to let him come close, close enough for her to surge up and bite into his jugular and hold on, teeth locked whatever happened, meaning to cling on to him like a wild dog. The trick would be to get a deep bite so her molars, where the most jaw power resided, could chime in.

"Come on, bitch ! wake up !" He had just thrown her jeans into the brush, spread her legs and slapped her again when the bushes around them came alive and the brute suddenly crashed onto her like a ton of bricks. Above his head now resting next to hers, she saw a tall disheveled woman brandishing a tire iron. With a loud grunt, the woman whacked her attacker over the head again as he began to groan. Within seconds, other women had rolled him off Ynes and were helping her sit up and get her trousers on again.

She was winded and it took a few minutes before she could speak through her swollen lips.

"You saved me !" she gasped. "How did you know ?"

"Easy," answered the tall one, "we heard a woman's cries and knew a bastard was up to no good."

"But where did you come from ? How come you are here ?"

"Lucky for you, we are camping just a few hundred yards away."

"Camping ?" Ynes looked at the women surrounding her. Most were young, quite young in fact and a few looked frazzled and weak, blood oozing out of their nostrils. She feared they had been infected with the malignant Marburg virus that had spread like wildfire when monkeys had escaped from a lab near Paris over a decade ago after it had been attacked by a group of frenzied animal rights activists. Woods such as these were just the place where one was at risk coming into contact with the virus as the creatures had been quick to adapt to their new environment. Fortunately, Ynes had been vaccinated when still young, her parents having managed to get a dose, but her little sister had not been so lucky and with no vaccine had succumbed to the disease.

The woman with the tire iron seemed to be the leader. Noticing Ynes' surprise, she rectified, "Surviving, if you prefer. We got out of Lyon when roving gangs moved in and started rounding women up to stock brothels."

"What about the police ? The authorities ?"

"I was the police," the tall woman said, shaking her head, "Captain Anne Valois, if you can believe it ! My male colleagues just slipped out of town taking their women folk away so I abandoned ship too, painting over one of our vans and collecting young girls I knew would be sold if the marauders found them. For the time being, we are going to live far from cities and towns with an occasional foray into them for food when necessary."

"And then what ?" Ynes asked, massaging her jaw.

"Then we don't know, that's just it. Find a nice secluded abandoned farm ? We can only live from day to day... but I'm sure happy we could rescue you. That bastard won't do any more harm. Julie, Kate !" she called out, "Go and check what's in the guy's van !"

No sooner had the two girls opened the back doors than they began shouting excitedly.

Anne ran over followed by Ynes and the troop. There, on the metal flooring lay a young woman gagged and trussed like a turkey.

"Is she dead ?" Julie asked, as Anne untied the gag and started cutting the ropes.

"She's breathing but looks like she was drugged," Anne answered as she pinched the woman's cheeks and gently slapped her. The girl opened her eyes and let out a howl that made everyone jump back.

"He's dead ! We are friends !" Anne said, seizing her hands. "It's over, for now..."

The woman shook her head, and looked like she had difficulty focusing, but then she said, "He's not here ? Where is he ?"

"He's dead !" Anne repeated. "If you get up, you can come and see for yourself !"

The woman started crying hysterically, "Thank you, thank you ! He beat me, he raped me... and was going to sell me."

"Come on," Julia said as she helped Anne pull the woman out of the van, "I'm sure you don't want to stay in there one second more !"

While the younger ones led the woman over to where her lifeless torturer lay, Anne and Ynes inspected the contents of the van. Jeff had been a cautious man. There was food – tins and packets of bread as well as five jerrycans of gas the sight of which made Ynes's eyes shine.

Later in the day, after Jeff had been disposed of further in the woods, his vehicle hidden, and Ynes had dropped off utterly exhausted, the women gathered around a simple meal of porridge and berries picked in the woods.

There was no cell phone reception here and nobody knew what time it was but one thing was sure, she had to hit the road or she would never get to Berlin in time. Jeff had had a wad of cash on him and the women voted that Ynes should have a sizable share of it as she had, by her screams, alerted them to the prize. She felt terrible lying to Anne, but said she would rather have Jeff's van and a supply of gas as she had to find her two sons who were in Paris, alone with their ailing grandmother whose flat had been badly flooded. The trio were living for the time being in a shelter. She felt even more like a heel when Anne, hugging her said, "Children first, by all means, anyone can see you are a good mother !"

Half an hour later she was back on the road having donned Jeff's baseball cap and his heavy jacket to beef up her appearance and make an attack less likely. In the company of the forlorn stolen GPS bouncing around on the bench next to her she headed toward not Paris, but Strasbourg. As she had driven by the outskirts of Lyon her phone had come alive and to her utter relief the words "Strasbourg airfield" had shimmered on the small screen. She was thankful for the food the women had let her have as she wanted to avoid towns and it was dangerous to drive up to isolated farms or hamlets where you could very well be welcomed by gunshot. All kinds of weapons having flourished along with the dissolution of the police force.

Was it fair that a group of people should be given the chance to escape from the hellish place the Earth had become ? But what else to do ? Every time a government had listened to reason and begun taking measures to curb pollution and stall climate change, the other countries had rejoiced. They could now snare a larger share of the market, increase their worth and fill their pockets while ever more people were reduced to living in squalor in the shanty towns skirting luxurious high rises. SAVU was indeed no different from small groups of individuals throughout history who had left everything behind in the hopes of founding a fairer society, crossing seas if need be. But these past idealists' hopes had more often than not been dashed, and the reason was – they had not gone far enough, civilization had always caught up with them. Her friends and future colleagues at SAVU were in fact the only true adventurers and she had been crazy to hesitate to join them. To save humanity from itself, these people were ready to conquer space and start over from scratch. If humanity could escape destruction in the global thermonuclear war just waiting to happen, good for them, but Ynes now knew she was more than willing to take the chance and travel into the unknown. She saw herself as one of the pilgrims of old on the move towards some holy shrine, heedless of the dangers lurking along the way through the thick dark forests that then covered most of Europe. Departure from one's village could well be a foretaste of death for those pious souls who would have to face the hazards of brigands, hunger, thirst, injuries. It had been highly recommended they settle all debts before leaving, which said it all. She fingered her aching jaw gingerly. She'd had one bad break and miraculously escaped. She chose to take it as a sign she would make it, and smiled in spite of the pain, at the thought of seeing Cristobal soon again.

#  Chapter 6  
2220 – ArcanArt

Jarrat sighed interiorly. He had just come back from the ArcaNat LiveSpace where he had spent a few hours first checking on the livestock and then traveling on a sand buggy to inspect the fields with the Nats who oversaw the crops. He loved watching the bearded rye stalks swaying in the light breeze, rippling like gold cloth under its caress against the pale emerald sky. In those long-lost days on the Mother planet he had been lucky enough to be born in a region which was still fertile. As a child he had roamed around at will, snapping off wheat spikes, crushing the meaty grains between his teeth to savor their nutty taste, getting lost and wandering around for hours in crazy sunflower fields. But then, as he grew and the last oases where life could flow peacefully were swallowed up in the general turmoil – hurricanes, droughts and fires kissing death to the days of bountiful, happy life, he lost faith in his fellow human's capacity to cooperate to right the wrongs and save his planet. And this profound despair had led him to become one of the founding members of SAVU. He would have smiled if he still could – the ripening fields he had just beheld here on Zingu proved him right, so right ! Why, there was even bird song coming from the trees, a wondrous sound that had vanished from the Mother planet long before SAVU had been conceived, as global warming rendered trees vulnerable to killer viruses and whole forests had perished in a few years, spelling death for biodiversity. But he couldn't go on musing. Tobal was right to tease him about this schmaltzy streak of his. He shook himself. It was now time to rejoin the other half of Arcana – ArcanArt – where the androids were housed. Research having shown that people mindlessly apply social rules and gender stereotypes to robots, all the androids Nats came in contact with regularly were androgynous. They presented a friendly although stylized face to ward off what a Japanese scientist had once named the "uncanny valley", the strange revulsion felt towards humanoid objects which appeared almost, but not quite, human. The androids were also shorter than the Nats and the Hyphs, measuring 1.70 m tops. The two parts of Arcana were connected by tunnels built in the first days of colonization and it was easy to travel from one to the other. Jarrat stepped onto the conveyor. His robotic body didn't need exercise to keep muscles toned. As he moved along the feed, he came across maintenance robots busy at work cleaning and oiling the machinery. Tobal greeted him as he stepped off the belt once he had reached the gigantic lava tube that had served as the first base on arrival. It was over 150 meters wide and great insect-like mining robots had cut through the soil and melted it in microwave ovens to make rock-hard ceramic bricks that had served as building blocks for the shelters where the first men and women lived and worked without needing to wear space suits. But with time, as the Nats became more adjusted to the planet, this embryonic settlement of Arcana expanded, both halves, ArcanArt and ArcaNat moving out of the lava tube and its primitive housing, and were now diametrically opposed. ArcanArt, where Jarrat and Tobal were now, was mostly devoted to production of materials and goods – there were numerous warehouses, factories and giant 3-D printers. It housed the army of robots who oversaw repairs, sewer and sanitation systems and worked with toxic chemicals and gases that resulted from recycling and reprocessing. Androids also maned the incinerator where deceased Nats were turned to ashes before being stored deep in the great lava tube in the Garden of Sorrow, a cube made of shimmering translucent material. Contrary to ArcaNat which was essentially built using graphene, the shucks and domes there mostly transparent, constructions in ArcanArt were opaque and windowless, the color of the Zingu earth, a greyish blue.

The two Hyphs were now outside the main building which contained offices and labs. The bluish soil had been heated until melting point and then imprinted with a grid while cooling. This made it easy to suck up the fine dust whipped about by the fierce gushes of wind coming from the distant desertic regions and thus avoid tracking it into the labs and production units. Looking around, Jarrat noticed that next to the distant old solar panels that had been erected by the first arrivals, the buildings housing the high-intensity laser-driven fusion units which ensured a nearly limitless source of electricity without leaving any toxic radioactive waste had been noticeably enlarged. Had the colony's energy needs suddenly increased, and whatever for ? Was something afoot or was he reading too much into a normal development ? Once inside, they went to see Jenna and Bertram, two Hyphs, ex-Tellurians like themselves, who oversaw production and worked on improving designs. All Hyphs had a shuck reserved for them in ArcaNat but most preferred powering down on site, feeling more and more comfortable among robots as the years went by and this, Jarrat thought, was at the root of the problem. The two halves of Arcana were drifting away from each other. Over the years, fewer and fewer Nats ventured over to ArcanArt – but that could also be due to most of the buildings here being only scantily heated.

"Well, here come our interface team !" Jenna quipped, "SaSha old boys ! How's farming and social work coming along ?"

The science and production Hyphs tended to look down on them for dealing with what they referred to between themselves as _Pulpyware_.

Jarrat was agreeably surprised to find that the Hyph was actually speaking like a human would – and not using direct communication machine style, although come to think of it, of late, many Hyphs more often than not closed their direct communication channels. Indeed, to stimulate creativity, a yearly prize had been established to designate the cleverest scientist and Hyphs claimed that it was too easy for other Hyphs who were sweating over a project to pop in and steal ideas. Nats were of course invited to take part in the competition too but the cyborgs boasted they would carry off the prize until the end of days.

"SaSha to you too my friend ! Look at you guys, working away in here on such a beautiful day ! You should take time off to step over to ArcaNat and check out the fields and greenhouses. Their sight would certainly ring a bell, stir you up... this planet is beginning to flourish and looks every year more like old Mother Earth !"

"No, thanks !" Bertram raised his arms, hands open as if to push back the suggestion. "You two were always mushy about natural processes and vegetation. I'm more than happy to leave all that belongs to the squishy, pulpous reign to the Nats. As you well know, Hyphs' and Nats' needs differ !"

There was indeed truth in what Bertram said. Moreover, Jarrat and Cristobal had never seen eye to eye with many of the top SAVU scientists when still on the Mother planet. People like Jenna and Bertram had been so absorbed in their research that they forgot they too were made of flesh and blood, produced by and dependent on the natural world. For their likes, being uploaded into a robotic body must have come as a release. As Hyphs, they had become pure disembodied thought processes. And so far, none of the cyborgs had ever resented or envied Jarrat and Tobal's role as go-betweens with the Nats. Jarrat had taken this typical Hyph outlook in his stride for years, but now something had subtly changed.

The Hyphs had already turned back to whatever they were working on as if nobody else was in the room.

Tobal moved forward and tapped Jenna on the shoulder, forcing her to turn round. "It looks like you have just erected new fusion units. Do we really need more energy ?"

Jenna took a few instants before answering, "You know, here we are always looking ahead. The last reports showed a steady population growth which implies the need for more androids and housing..."

"Who made this decision ?" Jarrat was frowning.

"Torwald. We all know that at times he is a little over eager – likes to get things done fast and he thought it wise to complete construction before the dimmer months come round."

That sounded a little lame to Jarrat. ArcaNat was certainly growing but the situation was carefully monitored and he could feel Tobal had his doubts too.

"By the way, where is Torwald ?" Tobal inquired, "I haven't seen him around lately."

"Off with a group of explorbots in the far reaches of Zingu," Jenna answered, turning back to her work bench.

"Working on mapping out a better route for the pipe line for melted glacier ice ?"

The expanding vegetation on Zingu needed more water every year. Rain was scarce and they had to fore very deep into the mantle of the planet to reach ground water. Improving the collecting and transport of water from the glaciers ensconced in the towering mountains about 100 kilometers away, where ice regenerated fast due to high altitude snowfall, was an important issue.

"Yes, and he won't be back for some time as they are also going to look around for a suitable place for a new settlement."

"Have the Nats been informed of this expedition ? Every expedition consumes resources and should be announced and discussed by the Council ?".

"Don't be such a fusspot, Jarrat ! ArcaNat needs that water much more than ArcanArt and the Nats will certainly be relieved to learn that we have started working on the project. Moreover, now you will have the privilege of informing the Council of it."

Jarrat didn't like Bertram's tone one bit. "As Hyphs, our mission is to guarantee the steady and harmonious development of the colony and this implies that decisions be taken collectively. We cannot begin to decide on how things are run taking private initiatives. You know that as well as we do !"

"Do I now ?" Bertram retorted. "Tell me, do the Nats always include us in their decisions ?"

"They certainly do," Tobal answered, "in so far as those decisions concern the allocation of resources for the satisfaction of needs such as housing and the production of food and education. It's not their fault if you shun coming over to ArcaNat when the council is held, but you always receive the minutes of what has been said and decided."

"Well, good for them ! Perhaps we have indeed been a little lax and should have examined the items on the agenda more closely and then the Nats wouldn't have got away with launching the production of robot cats for the children's enjoyment... But we have a heavy work load here and would now really appreciate your letting us get back to work. We will gladly leave idle talk and restorative walks to you two !" Bertram's tone was dismissive.

Tobal and Jarrat stood for a few seconds in silence looking at the cyborgs' backs as they bent over their work stations and checked out their screens. Obviously, something was amiss. Deep out of the past an image swam up in Jarrat's mind – he was a boy again and had just bitten into a delicious-looking crimson apple only to discover with disgust a worm rearing up its ugly head at him.

As they were about to step on the feed leading back to ArcaNat, Tobal and Jarrat were joined by Kanell, a rather dainty overtly female Hyph, an oddity on Zingu.

"SaSha, handsome !" Kanell gushed, curtsying before Jarrat who shook his head.

"There you go again, Dom ! Try to remember who you really are !" the Hyph let out.

"Oh, but that's our little secret, is it not ?" Kanell batted her eyelashes and demurely patted her bust.

"Don't be too hard on her, Jarrat !" Tobal intervened as, turning to the little creature, he said, "Since you look idle Kanell, why don't you come and watch the sunset from the Eastern dome with us ? We could all do with a little break."

"Nothing would please me more ! Sunset on this planet of ours is always a feast for the eyes and watching it with you, Master," and she looked up at Jarrat, "will be the crowning moment of my day..."

Jarrat sighed heavily and not another word was exchanged as they moved through the tunnel, Kanell fidgeting at his side.

In the domes composing the center of ArcaNat each cardinal point had a large communal salon. Once comfortably installed, Kanell snuggling in between Tobal and Jarrat, they took in the vast expanse of emerald green sky turning magenta as the slowly descending sun surrendered its last rays. Then, looking around to check there was no one within earshot, Jarrat shook Kanell by the shoulder. "Why did I ever agree to your gender change ? I must have been mad !"

"Master, Master," Kanell teased, "it's because you are wise and knew this would be much more natural and becoming. I well remember my having a crush on you as your male assistant made you very uncomfortable, it was long ago but I haven't forgotten the pain..."

"She's probably right, Jarrat. Relationships – even socially condoned ones – always made you squeamish" Tobal laughed.

And that was only too true. Indeed, back in the days of SAVU, Dom, Jarrat's assistant had been fiercely attached to him and volunteered to be uploaded. But once on Zingu he declared wanting to make a fresh start and to Jarrat's intense embarrassment cobbled for himself a female robotic body, something no woman Hyph had yearned for or sought to do – certainly not Jenna – the very idea was enough to make anyone burst out laughing.

"Well now, how about you stop simpering Dom, and tell us what you have discovered ?" It was difficult for the old Hyph to bring himself to use his assistant's new name in private.

"Wait a minute... who is this Dom ?" Kanell queried, looking around candidly, "I don't see anybody else here... And shouldn't we be admiring that glorious spectacle out there ?"

"Sweetheart, don't you see the boss is going to blow a fuse ?" Tobal intervened. He thought he could hear Jarrat's circuits overheating.

"You two sure make Kanell a dull girl..." she started but then seeing the flash in Jarrat's eyes, went on quickly, "With you it's all work and no play, but ok, let's get down to business. The Hyphs are used to seeing me flitting around shooting films about work in the factories, different construction techniques, prospection for minerals and whatnot for the children's technology classes, so I didn't raise the slightest suspicion when I undertook thy quest, Oh Master !"

"Dom, get to the point, what did you find out ?" Jarrat growled.

"Bad stuff, I'm afraid. It's what we suspected. I don't know what balderdash the Hyphs over in ArcanArt have been feeding you but things are heating up. Torwald and his cronies, along with a whole bunch of robots, have indeed set off. But only a group will go to the mountains to map out a route for the pipelines. Torwald and acolytes are holing up in a lava tube where they have set up a secret lab and are busy working on a super computer."

"How did you learn all this ?" Tobal marveled.

"A girl has her ways..." Kanell started, but nearly jumped out of her seat when Jarrat's voice boomed, "Just answer the question, you devil !"

After a few minutes of sullen silence, hand reaching up to delicately pat her ear, she resumed, "I told some of the more advanced robots who were showing me around that if they had any interesting news tidbits, I would mention them by name in the footage. Seems like man made robots in his image, because it worked super well. It got them talking a mile a minute although a lot of what they told me was just plain boring – a heap of rubbish but within the heap there were a few nuggets."

"Dom, you've done a great job and can be proud of yourself, but the situation is really dire," Jarrat said.

"Well, thank you, Sir. I was beginning to wonder when you would notice my entire devotion. You should know that when a girl is shunned, she could be tempted to look up to another handsome Nat or Hyph... and by the way, my name is not Dom."

Jarrat heaved a heavy sigh, seeing he would have to play along. "All right, Kanell, I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. You are a pesky little thing, but there is nobody I would rather want as my assistant."

"Why thanks, boss," Kanell said suddenly using Dom's deep voice, "I don't think you would ever have said something so nice to me when I was a man..."

"What a clown !" Tobal shook with laughter but then stopped short. He too had had a companion when they left the Mother planet, Ynes, a fellow colleague, but she had not wished to become a Hyph and the thought of her loss, even after all these years, saddened him.

As they were talking, the sky had turned a deep purple tinged with streaks of China ink. Only a glimmer of light was left on the horizon and then that was snuffed out too.

"We need to prepare Davor," Jarrat said peering through the translucent dome into the void, "as soon as possible." Very faintly out there, floating around on the dark cloth of the sky, he thought he could just make out the beautiful outlines of his demon's familiar face...

Zingu would always be haunted although few seemed to sense its eeriness. When the first settlers arrived – mainly automatons and two Hyphs – Torwald and Jaime, the only life present on the planet had been microbial. In spite of the good measure of oxygen in the atmosphere, there had been no animal life. But when overseeing the creation of the Garden of Sorrow in the depths of the original lava tube, Jarrat's diggers had cut down into the lava floor and come across layer upon layer of coarse whitish dust and small fragments of bone as if the spot had already served as a burial ground or, more disturbingly, was a place where living creatures had been trapped by a sudden eruption, entombed beneath tons of roiling lava. But what creatures ? An archaic race peopling the planet ? Visitors from another galaxy ? The thought was disquieting. The labs had not been able to extract any DNA from the samples and faced with the pressing challenge of terraforming the planet and settling it, the finding had been all but forgotten. But for Jarrat, the souls of whatever creatures had lived on Zingu in the distant past, flitted about still – perhaps they danced around in the lightning balls that could often be seen before the sun disappeared. He would probably never know...

#  Chapter 7  
The Age of Hope – The Holy Braid

The man behind the heavy wooden cross stood still as the ragged little boy perched on his shoulders reached under the cross beam, and having taken the knife from his mouth, seized a thick strand of the crucified man's hair, nearly dislodging the crown of thorns cutting deep into his temples. Tongue sticking out, the child sawed off the lock before clambering down and jumping off the man's shoulders. They then made their way down the hill in the dusk, without a glance at the torn bodies of the men hanging there, eager to leave behind the ground strewn with the sharp fragments of sheep bones and small iron balls fallen off the thongs of the soldiers's scourging whips, and darkened by blood. The three solitary men hanging like overripe fruit from their crosses would have plenty of company come daybreak when the crows arrived, squawking and fighting for the best place to enjoy what was on offer.

The boy tugged at the man's tunic.

"Give me my pennies !"

"Wait till we get back within the city gates. I don't want to have to spend the night outside, so hurry up now !"

The man walked fast with one hand holding the strand of hair tight to his breast under his garment. Jonathan, one of the Essenes, had promised him a rich reward for the deed and he was already casting about what to do with the money when his thoughts were interrupted again. "Why didn't we cut hair off the other two men ?" the kid queried as he strove to keep up with the man's pace, "Could have made more money..."

"Child, nobody wants a lowly thief's hair."

"The man in the middle wasn't a thief ?"

"No, if you had climbed up on the other side, you would have seen a sign above his head reading _King of the Jews_ ".

The boy was nonplussed and stopped in his tracks. "Kings can be nailed to crosses like thieves ?"

The man looked down at the child, a bitter smile on his lined face. "Those in power can do as they please, we all learn the hard way... Now, get a move on you or I'll leave you here !"

When they were safely within the gates, they stopped in a dark corner and the man pulled three coins out of his pocket. "Here you are, now scamper off !"

The boy glanced at the three pieces of copper in his palm and immediately cried, "You said six coins !"

"Perhaps I did but that's all you'll get, now beat it !"

"No, I want my money !" the child's voice was shaking and he was struggling to hold back his tears.

The man took a step towards the child, arm raised, fist clenched, "Disappear or you'll get a beating for your trouble !"

The child beat a retreat, clenching his few coins, "I hate you !" he shouted, "I'll kill you when I'm big !"

The man only laughed, "You should be thanking me, I'm teaching you a lesson you won't forget... Why don't you toss me back those coins for my trouble ?" and he moved forward but understanding he couldn't win, the child took off, tears of rage streaking down his thin cheeks.

Cristobal sighed – did nothing ever change ? But the incident he had come across in a fictionalized account of events leading up to and surrounding the crucifixion of Jesus Christ had given him the idea he was casting around for. He now had to find out what had happened to that strand of holy hair. Delving into historical documents, it appeared it had been vigilantly guarded for centuries until in the year 327 Emperor Constantine's mother, the Augusta Imperatrix Helena, on her mission to locate relics of the Judeo-Christian tradition, claimed to have been brought a stone casket containing that very lock. The find was so extraordinary that Helena had the holy relic encased by the greatest goldsmith in a heart-shaped gold case the width of her hand, embossed with a rising sun bearing the Chi Rho symbol surrounded by twirling vines. The Blessed Lock, as it came to be known, was stored in the queen's private chapel in Rome but its fame grew rapidly, and thrice a year pilgrims were allowed to come and kneel before it, and this even for decades after her death. And then its trace was lost following the sack of Rome by the Visigoths about a century later. But its fame had never dimmed and all through religious history, pilgrims and holy men had been seeking the glorious relic, in vain.

Well, now Cristobal knew how to hide and protect the code he had written and that would serve to defang the cyborgs on Zingu if ever the need arose. Creating a gold reliquary would be a piece of cake here in the SAVU labs and when the artefact reached the destination he had in mind for it, the monastery of Santa Maria la Real in Spain, it was bound to greatly contribute to the institution's reputation, draining an ever-greater number of pilgrims, thus ensuring its careful preservation. This feat was now possible only because Ynes had thrown in the towel in Marseille and rejoined SAVU although that belated decision had nearly cost her her life. She had made it to the Strasbourg airfield and found the pilot willing to fly her to Berlin for a hefty reward and then finally managed to get a lift to the bleak ruin of the imperial memorial church standing in the city center, a monument bombed in 1943 during the Second World War. They had chosen this spot as a meeting point in case of emergency because it was already a wreck and not likely to tempt those who ran amok destroying anything that caught their fancy. Numerous sacred or prestigious buildings in the world's great cities had been defaced or blown up by religious fanatics, political adversaries or whatnot and ransacked by one and all. Cristobal had stepped out of the shadows of the building in central Berlin as Ynes came hurriedly up, head swiveling, eyes watchful. She stopped short in her tracks alarmed by a rustling and was about to run away when he seized her arm, calling out her name, although he suddenly wasn't sure the person he was holding onto was his lover. Before him was a crazy-looking woman – short strands of dark hair shooting out around a gaunt face, and haunted eyes boring into his. But that was two weeks ago, before they boarded the private plane that would carry them, flying low to avoid radar detection, to SAVU's secret base. She was now back to her normal self and he wondered how he could have born to be separated from her. It had wrenched out part of his heart when she had told him she was remaining behind in Marseille She was then still hopeful and reasoned that if everyone despaired of setting the world right and gave up, the end would indeed be near at hand. He saw her point, although he had lost hope years ago, but would have hated himself if he had tried to make her change her mind, so he withheld his arguments, hid his pain and let her go her way, as was only fair. The society he had in mind and that the SAVU group aimed at creating on Zingu would be egalitarian – avoiding the pitfalls of gender, social position and so-called race, and he wasn't going to start out by putting pressure on a woman.

#  Chapter 8  
The Age of Hope – The golden heart

Cristobal, thus named thanks to his Spanish mother who was a great admirer of the famous navigator, turned round to Jarrat with a look of glee, dark eyes aflame. "I know just the place to send the computer virus !" he exulted, too excited to remain seated.

Jarrat watched his friend as he strode back and forth. Finally, he stopped short and dramatically gestured to the large poster on the wall of a medieval-looking monastery.

"There ! I'll send it there !"

Jarrat took a step closer and read the caption : "Monasterio de Santa Maria La Real".

"A monastery ? Why ?"

"Because I've soldered the code in a gold reliquary."

"Have you gone out of your mind ?"

"Just think, what is holier than the relic of a Saint – see how many have come unscathed through the years ! Even thieves don't dare harm them. And this reliquary would not contain just a piece of any old saint but a strand of the Savior's hair !"

"You really think, Tobal, the men and women struggling to survive on this dying planet will treasure such an object, nowadays ? When for all intents and purposes, God is dead ? Whoever lays hands on it will just melt it down !"

Cristobal smiled and pointed to the poster on the wall. "No, of course not, you are right. That is why we are going to send it back in time, to the 16th century to be precise."

Jarrat examined his friend closely. Could the harrowing hours they had been putting in for months now to prepare their departure for Zingu be taking its toll ?

"I'm compos mentis, I assure you. The parallel between the 16th century and what we are achieving here in SAVU is obvious. When the Americas were discovered, the world suddenly expanded. It was an age of great exploration – men bravely venturing out into the wilderness, to face untamed nature."

It was high time to stick a pin in his friend's enthusiasm... "Yes, and how many native populations suffered and died as a consequence of this grandiose scheme ?"

Tobal grimaced, "That's unfortunately true too but just think of how the new discoveries and the riches that flowed into the old world transformed man's outlook. It was an era open to hope and speculation. Then, everything not only seemed possible, but became possible. Just as we, a group of forward-looking humans, are busy planning to colonize space. You too, I know, can feel the nomadic blood of our ancestors still flowing through your veins. We are about to settle a new planet and in a few months you and I will be living on it – isn't that a miracle ?"

Why not, after all ? The 16th century, and Spain in particular would be a safe epoch for a relic, if what Jarrat remembered reading about Philip II of Spain's obsession with the objects was correct, and sometimes it paid to follow one's gut feeling.

"What's on your mind ?" Cristobal inquired, seeing his friend lost in a brown study.

"Your choice was dictated by elements of our past that have great resonance in you. On Zingu we will have all of human knowledge available digitally but this knowledge will no longer be connected to a physical location. I was wondering how the men of the future would look upon this mass of information."

"With time the history of Man's time on Earth will probably appear to be just so many fairy tales, strange and enchanting stories taking place in a make believe world !"

"It will be interesting to see."

"But for that to happen, we first must become Hyphs. No one knows for sure how long cyborgs can endure, but I would expect quite a few centuries."

"That should probably do the trick," Jarrat agreed, "but let's not put the cart before the horse. How are you going to send that artefact back in time ?"

Tobal looked at his friend, eyes shining excitedly, "Now that Ynes has joined us, work on generating an artificial wormhole allowing one-way matter transmission can go ahead. If she hadn't come, I would never have dreamt of attempting to send an artefact into the past even with all the phenomenal brainpower of INMANIS. She's one of the gurus of quantic physics. The projects she was working on near Marseille were well below her level of expertise."

INMANIS, the super intelligent computer the SAVU group had managed to cobble was continuously redesigning itself, gaining ever more power. It was invaluable in helping the scientists develop nanotechnology materials, among which pure graphene. It also speeded up work on gene editing, developing plants that would thrive on Zingu, as well as helping to map and sequence the genes humans would need to survive comfortably on a colder, oxygen poorer planet.

Jarrat noticed that when Tobal spoke of Ynes, his whole face lit up. Again, he wondered to what extent emotions would be experienced, if at all, once their brains were uploaded into a humanoid robot body. He looked around the plain room they spent so much time in, working on machine learning and writing code for the physicists, taking in how the light streaming through the windows placed high up on the walls gave the illusion they were in an aquarium, prisoners of a kind of bubble. For the rest of the planet, for all those they had contacted in vain and who had called them crackpots or modern-day illuminati, they were indeed queer fish, living and working in the secret SAVU premises, some having already left, others busy preparing to leave Earth forever. He sighed. Regret was an empty word. If everything went according to schedule, by the time the whole operation had reached its conclusion and they would all be on or en route to Zingu, this planet would be in its death throes. Of course, one could feel nostalgic for Earth in all its pristine beauty before man first appeared, but that was a pointless waste of time. The future beckoned.

"Ynes does know that the tiger must stay in its sandbox ?" Jarrat inquired, "INMANIS is a slippery bastard, always on the lookout for a loop hole to break out of its physical confinement and dive into the internet," Jarrat warned Tobal, remembering how the machine had tried to trick him one night when his attention was fully engaged on a thorny problem. The computer simulated a malfunction in the hopes that Jarrat would pull some hardware out for testing, aiming to take advantage of a vulnerability in the testing software. Fortunately, all those dealing with INMANIS had taken time to brainstorm the most likely ruses the machine would come up with and that attempt was thwarted.

"Don't worry for Ynes. You could well say – once bitten twice shy. No man or machine is ever going to take her in again. But now you know the location of the code and what it is hidden in and if you can't recall the name of the monastery after becoming a Hyph, all you need do is visualize this room and the poster."

"But how will we retrieve the relic back from the past ?" Jarrat was puzzled. However advanced their technology may be, such a feat was well beyond their grasp.

"That would indeed be impossible, but who's talking about getting it back physically ? All one will have to do is crack the container open and read the code nestling inside. And that's where your expertise on developing brain to brain communication comes to the fore. I'm counting on your having soon perfected the electronic device you are working on so that individuals who show special predispositions and are properly trained will be able to communicate telepathically."

"Indeed, ordinary guys like us will probably never be able to communicate directly like robots do. But individuals who appear to have what ancient religions called the third eye are attuned to the timeless-spaceless psychic field where all thought is stored, and those I'm working with are responding well to the device. I am confident that together we will succeed in increasing their power," Jarrat confirmed.

"So my friend," Tobal said, his voice grave, "if ever things should go awry on Zingu sometime in the distant future and the planet is threatened by a robot take over, the machines having attained self-awareness, you are the man who can save the day... Because when I am uploaded, my memory of this code will be erased. It's the only way for the secret to remain safe, unhackable, so to speak."

"I will do my utmost to live up to the challenge," Jarrat assured his friend. "INMANIS's astounding crunch power has speeded up research and within a few years I trust we will have full-fledged telepaths..."

#  Chapter 9  
2220 – Soul searching

As always when she felt insecure, Solia gazed at her face in the mirror. Her deep turquoise eyes made a striking contrast with her burnt orange complexion and shoulder-length black hair. As a child, during HugTime, she had often heard adults praising her looks and it made her feel warm and appreciated. But now she was on edge. From the bathroom, she could hear Kyan and Davor talking softly in the common room. She couldn't get over her surprise at learning that their housemate was a telepath. Like everyone else, she had heard rumors of ArcaNat housing a group of Nats with special powers but had dismissed them as idle gossip. Life on Zingu was peaceful – and probably because of that, the little gossip there was spread like wildfire. And here she had been living right next to one of these exceptional creatures ! How many were they on Zingu ? Obviously they were past masters at blending in with the other Nats, but Kyan had to have known about Davor so why hadn't he told her ? She had been so sure that he was the one she wanted to share a decade with – that being the longest recommended time span for a relationship in ArcaNat. Children having been brought up together remained close as adults and couples formed and dissolved easily and without drama. She had to smile in spite of her anxiety as she remembered ludicrous scenes from antique Tellurian films found in the archives – men shooting other men because of some top heavy blonde's roving amorous glances ; hysterical women screeching and clawing up their mate's face because he'd fancied another girl. Two years earlier, Solia and Jan, her boyfriend, had decided to call it a day and gravitate toward another partner. Both looked back fondly on their relationship and were happy to have given the colony a child but after four years together, they both felt it was time to move on.

She checked her face again, trying to see into her brain. Had Kyan detected a flaw in her, was she not worthy of trust ? But then, he had taken her to the meeting with Jarrat in that special room. That had to mean something, didn't it ? Suddenly, a great sadness came over her as she became conscious of what she had learnt meant for the colony. Was the Nats' very existence really threatened by the Arts, their longstanding allies and neighbors ? Danger coming from inside the tight-knit colony was a totally new concept. All Nats were taught from an early age to protect themselves against excessive radiation exposure and take into account the dangers of the low temperatures and high winds during the dimmer months, but knowing that a lethal threat was ensconced right at the core of the colony was terrifying.

However, Kyan was now knocking gently on the door. "Are you all right ? You've been in there for ages !"

Turning away from the mirror, she opened the door and stood there, staring up at him, trying to read his face.

"What is it, Solia ?" He pulled her close, breathing in the spicy fragrance of her silky skin.

"Why didn't you tell me ?" voice muffled against his heavy chest.

"Tell you what ?" although he well knew and now drew her into the bedroom, closing the door.

"I couldn't tell you that Davor was a telepath because there aren't officially any... You know that Jarrat and Tobal were among the Tellurians who had enough foresight, imagination and courage to found SAVU, the group of scientists that brought us here to safety when the Mother planet was on the brink of destruction."

"Of course, everyone is taught that."

"Well, most Nats forget it and it's just as well because as you have now learnt, those two are also our secret safe keepers."

"What do you mean ?" They were now sitting on the low bed, holding hands, fingers tightly interlaced.

"You heard Jarrat mentioning super intelligent AI and you must know that Zingu does not possess such computing power. From the very start, it was SAVU's intention that it would never be developed on Zingu. This was written in the deed founding the colony."

"Of course I know that, just like everybody else ! But hadn't the SAVU group managed to create one of these super powerful machines ?"

"They did and without its help, I doubt we would be here today, for its intelligence easily dwarfed ours, but they were wary of it and kept it boxed up, so to speak, isolating it from all other networks. You see, once Jack was out of the box, there was no telling where his survival drives would take him."

"So, what happened to this machine ?"

Kyan was silent for a moment and then he passed a hand over his weary face. "Jarrat told me it was to be destroyed the second the last SAVU member left Earth. But he had to leave before that happened in order to organize the colony. And I can't help thinking destroying such a machine as INMANIS was a great shame..."

"You can't really mean that !" His words sounded like blasphemy to her.

He shrugged and wrapped her in his arms, kissing her. "Now don't be alarmed, sweetheart. I'm not a rebel... but destroying one of man's greatest leaps forward does clash with a scientist's outlook."

"Well, I don't think we need worry about that super computer," she said, still frowning. "It would have been destroyed in the giant conflagration that was registered back in 2110 if not dismantled earlier..."

"Yes, I don't think anything could have come out unscathed for that blast. But Jarrat was well aware of how evolution, like water, always finds a way to reach its goal, trickling through the narrowest crack if need be and he foresaw the day when the threat of artificial superintelligence would arise again, and that's why his team created the switch he mentioned, to be used in an emergency."

"So, we are now faced with one, is that what all this is about ?" Solia had begun to feel better, less left out, but Kyan's tone when speaking about INMANIS had troubled her and she had undressed mechanically. She was now in her nightgown, brushing out her hair. Although there were only three styles of nighty available from the stores, they came in a near infinite range of colors and hers was a soft almond green.

"The chips are down, indeed, and we need to act fast, girl. Can't let the machines take over..." Kyan said as he winked at her.

But Solia didn't smile. She was standing, brush in her upheld hand, a somber look on her face. "You know, I very often get an uncanny feeling watching the automatons go about their business. They work tirelessly, never making mistakes and I can't help feeling that we are exploiting them, just as the Tellurians exploited their working classes – those who detained capital basing their wealth and power on slave labor or the proletariat who were worked to the bone."

Kyan got up and kissed her softly on the lips, "That's why you are so dear, my love. You feel for others, but let me put your mind at rest. The humanoid creatures we see around us are nothing but machines – you can trust me, I work on them and with them. But where you are right is that if some of the Hyphs go rogue and manage to make a super intelligent machine which will inevitably reproduce itself – and machine iterations don't take as long as we do to mature – we would be faced with an intelligence explosion and, yes, these machines could then well develop some kind of conscience."

"But Jarrat and Tobal are different from the other Hyphs – why ? Why have they not lost their sense of self ?" It puzzled her.

"The difference, from the little I have gathered about them is that at some moment in their life they experienced one of the most violent emotions known to man – love... and through the prism of that feeling, they still see themselves as men, as Nats, in fact."

"It's difficult to imagine Jarrat or Tobal in love. They are so old and wise." The idea made her smile.

"They were men once, Solia, and to judge by what they helped accomplish here, men with vigorous imaginations and strong feelings..."

Kyan was holding her tight. Strong feelings... she knew their power. She looked up, as always bedazzled by his beauty – dark eyes, golden skin and curly whitish hair, marveling at how masculine he was in spite of all nature's bounty. From as far back as she could remember – for they had shared a nest – there had been a spark in him and she had been both attracted to and afraid of it. Indeed, it had taken her years to even approach him once she reached adulthood. He was extremely popular, a man's man to whom all the girls gravitated, irresistibly attracted. Solia was so fearful of the intensity of her feelings and the pain they could bring about she had voluntarily avoided him and paired up with Jan, an easy-going man whom she liked but didn't love. It was only when they parted, that she decided to take the plunge... And here she was, wrapped up in his arms. She had never queried him about his other lovers, and never would. Perhaps she was living on the brink of an abyss and he didn't love her the way she did, but she had decided not to care.

Then thoughts gave way to feeling as Kyan pulled off her nighty, picked her up and put her down gently on the bed. She watched as he stepped out of his clothes and approached, mesmerized by his arousal. She gently spread her legs and reached up, eager to receive him, in that instant, not giving a damn what his thoughts were.

But later that night, as she listened to him peacefully breathing alongside her, she tried to put her finger on what was gnawing at her...

#  Chapter 10  
2220 – The kitty

"Kitty, kitty ! Come here kitty !" Pamela had spied one of the cat automatons that silently roamed in the domes and snuck around the children's nests, jumping in to join them for a pat on the head before the kids dropped off. The door to the playroom was ajar. The little girl followed the cat down the hall and through another door into a large room where oversized washing machines were busily churning their loads of clothes smothered in soap suds. The robot worker sorting out the clothes fresh from the dryers didn't notice Pamela who, in spite of the rising excitement she felt at being out on her own following the kitty like the girls in the tales the adults read to them at HugTime, was wise enough not to say a word or to make a noise.

Now the cat had disappeared down a flight of steps situated next to a row of elevators and Pamela boldly followed. Wouldn't she have a lot to tell this evening at HugTime ! The hall she was traveling along, while trying to catch up with the crafty feline, was painted a shiny pale blue with quite a few empty push carts and trolleys parked on either side. The cat finally sat down at the end of the corridor before a brightly lit door and as Pamela squatted triumphantly reaching out to pet the cat, there was a buzzing sound and the door opened as a cart steered by an automaton pushed by. In a flash, the cat who had obviously been waiting for such an occurrence, shot through the door as it began to swing back, Pamela hot on its heels.

Now they were in a short tunnel which gave out onto a slow-moving metallic carpet. A faint alarm bell went off in the child's head. This had to be what the grown-ups called the feed and it was off limits to children, but the temptation was much too strong, all the more so that the cat had lightly hopped onto the snake-like conveyor and was disappearing round the bend.

Up in the bright dayroom, Nina was crying. Pamela had promised to play with her after naptime but she wasn't there. Ben, one of the caretakers, came up to her. When he managed to get Nina to say what was wrong and couldn't find the child in the room, he checked her chart. Perhaps Pamela was up for a physical – these were carried out periodically to monitor the buildup of calcium in the children's bones and their resistance to radiation – but Pamela wasn't due for two more weeks. With a worried look, still holding Nina's hand who, sensing something was definitely wrong, was now blubbering, he contacted the children's headquarters and within minutes the HC – or Head ChiMin – had alerted all carers. A search was organized while word was sent to all colonists' wristors to be on the lookout for the missing child. Just a few weeks earlier, a little boy, Mat, had gone lost and although every nook and cranny in the domes had been searched, every hallway and tunnel examined as well as the surrounding grounds and the fields beyond, the child had not been found. It was feared that he had managed to make his way over to ArcanArt and there, intrigued by the loud insect-like diggers, had ventured too near, been caught by one of the machines and torn to pieces before being dumped onto the wide belts conveying the mineral into the factory. Quite a few children were fascinated by the films Kanell made about the production activity going on in ArcanArt and eager to be old enough to go see for themselves. But of course, some children were more adventurous than others and boys and girls venturing out of the children's space was not unheard of. Mat, however, was the first child not to have been found safe and sound after a few anxious hours.

Solia had felt her wristor vibrate a few minutes earlier while she was busy selecting hues, textures and discussing the quantities to be produced of her new range of toys with Sparkle, the automaton in charge. For convenience sake, androids dealing directly with Nats had their name printed on their chest. She had been too taken up with the choices to be made to glance at the contraption. But as she left the building, heading toward the lava tube and the feed back to ArcaNat, she felt guilty for not checking the info, all the more so when she discovered that a child was lost and everyone was asked to take part in the search. Solia looked around. It didn't seem likely that little Pamela, who always wore ribbons in her pig tails and pink overalls, would be romping around in this drab environment – tall, windowless buildings connected by the hardened bluish soil and graced with the distant clangor of the great diggers and the hammermill. But then, one couldn't be sure what caught a kid's fancy as she, better than anyone else, should know. So she started to ferret around, glancing into production units, turning around buildings till finally, out of the corner of her eye she caught a slight flash of color that looked very much like a pink pant leg disappearing into a squat building. Running up, Solia found the door open and Pamela making her way through the silent machines towards the end of the room.

"Pamela !" she exclaimed, grabbing the child's shoulder, impervious to the shock she might give the kid, "What are you doing here ? It will be dark soon – one of our moons is already rising above the horizon !"

The child seemed torn between excitement and guilt, a sly look in her eyes "I was following the kitty... I think it lives here !"

"What kitty ?" Solia was looking around, frowning.

"The kitty that came to me during naptime and told me to follow it."

"What are you talking about ? And why aren't you wearing your wristor ?"

"I take it off during naps..."

Solia was tapping on her own wristor to inform the Head ChiMin the child was found and the hunt over.

Before leaving the building, she threw over the child one of the anti-radiation blankets hanging from pegs on walls all around the colony, as the kid had already had a sufficient dose of radiation on her way out of the lava tube. When she seized her hand to return to ArcaNat she noticed that although docile, the child kept looking back, as if she had lost something.

"But there was a kitty," Pamela insisted, near tears now that the thrill of adventure was over. A few seconds later, however, she let go of Solia's hand and reached into her overall pocket, drawing forth a small translucent blue box.

"Is that your Elogum ?"

"Yes, tastes yummy !" the girl said, obviously getting over her disappointment at not having been able to catch the cat.

"But you remember that those sweets need to be sanitized regularly, don't you ?"

"Of course ! We give our box to the minder every evening when we brush our teeth."

The children's gum electrically simulated flavor sensations when chewed thus helping prevent dental decay. It could be enjoyed forever as it never lost its flavor, but hygiene needed to be taken into consideration.

"Oh, thank you !" Solia said. Pamela was holding out a stick to her, with a big smile, "It's cinnamon. The teacher gave it to me when I knew my 9 times table."

"Great ! But don't you want to keep it for a friend ?"

"You're my friend now, you are looking after me," and the little hand slipped back into Solia's.

Solia gave the small hand a squeeze and smiled without answering, accepting the gift. The child didn't seem disturbed by her escapade and although Solia was eager to find out what had really happened, she thought it better not to quiz the girl right now. The situation was disquieting, to say the least. The young colony couldn't afford to have children flitting around on their own, receiving high doses of radiation or having accidents, and it would be best to leave the child specialists to do the job of getting to the bottom of this business. Not a single Nat had forgotten young Mat's disappearance...

#  Chapter 11  
The Age of Wonder

"Wake up ! Wake up !" The old monk was trying to catch hold of Domingo who was keening, rolling around on his straw bed. All of a sudden, the young man shuddered and opened his eyes wide, staring blindly into space.

"What do you see ? Tell me !" the monk cried. "Have you had a visitation ? Has our Virgin Mother come to you ?"

"She has revealed it to me in Her Holiness !" Domingo gasped, "It was there before my eyes, and its beauty was blinding, Holy is the blessed Virgin's heart !"

The old man took a step back and frowned, passing his hand before Domingo's eyes a few times, fearing the youth gone blind.

After a few minutes, Domingo seized Pablo's hand and focusing, smiled wanly. "I'm not blind, don't you worry. I am still able to look after the flocks and prune the olive trees..."

Pablo sat down at Domingo's side. "I've told the Abbot about your recurring visions, and he knows these were what prompted you to leave your village and come here. The garden brothers have praised you to him, saying you are a hard worker and look after the sheep diligently, curing them with herbs when they are badly."

Food was simple but plentiful in the monastery and Domingo was now a tall lad who could look down on brother Pablo when both got up, the monk shaking his cassock to rid it of the bits a straw that had got caught in the thick wool cloth, hoping the strong smell of lanolin that permeated the hut would dissipate on the way back to his duties.

"My boy, today is a great day. The Abbot has sent me to tell you he has decided that you should now work with brother Merek to help in the preparation of medicines and look after the sick and the wounded in the pilgrims' hospital. These years of draught have destroyed many a poor man's crops and seeded the country with beggars, ruffians and thieves. Merek can't cope alone any longer with the steady flow of peasants, even knights who have been ambushed and beaten within an inch of their lives while on the road to Santiago."

Domingo, whose face had lit up at the beginning of Pablo's speech, looked away in an effort to hide his disappointment. Getting to work inside the monastery was a move forward but what he desperately wanted was to be in charge of the relics and old Pablo well knew it. Moreover, he felt no great love for the continuous stream of tired, dusty men and women that headed for the monastery, sweating under their dark woolen cloaks, faces hidden by their broad-brimmed hats dotted with tin mirrors. They marched blindly on, as they clutched their sturdy sticks from which a gourd hung, bent on collecting on their mirrors the benign rays emanating from the relics they beheld. Once home, they would then hold up the mirrors to their loved ones who would feel the saintly power of the holy objects wash over them.

Noticing the young man's dismay Pablo said, "Domingo, remember what the good book says, _The heart of man plans his way, but the_ _Lord_ _establishes his steps._ Be patient, my son, and you will be rewarded."

After having said good bye to brother James who overlooked the orchards, Domingo had wrapped up his few possessions into a bundle and was now on his way to his new position, shoulders rounded and feet feeling as heavy as they had been dipped into lead.

"Pray tell me exactly what vision the Blessed Virgen Mary sent you," old Pablo inquired, "would it not be a sin, I might be somewhat jealous... I have been praying and fasting since my early adulthood and have never received a divine message."

Domingo's tone was grave, "Brother Pablo, I am grateful to have been singled out, but you should not envy me for as far as I can remember there has been a voice in my head urging me to go forward, to seek a wondrous golden object, a relic and over the years it has given me little rest. The yearning is powerful, like an unquenchable thirst. I know I need to find this relic and today the object of my quest finally appeared to me clearly, in all its splendor. I was nearly blinded by the vision of a blazing golden heart, bearing in its center a glorious sun surrounded by a twisting vine."

The old monk's jaw dropped and he stopped short, grasping Domingo's arm so hard it made the young man wince.

"What's that you said ? Do you know what you are talking about ?" Pablo managed to utter.

Domingo just stood there, gazing down at the old man. "I'm talking about the vision I had this morning when you woke me, what else ? Is something wrong ?"

"We need to see the Abbot at once," the brother said, voice quivering, and still holding tightly on to Domingo's arm, the old man made his way as fast as his legs would let him towards the main building.

"Hey ! What's got into you ? Why that somber look ?" Domingo resented being dragged along like some unruly kid.

The monk didn't answer and they trudged along, brows knit. Brother Pablo had always liked and trusted the boy but he didn't know what to think after what he had just heard.

As soon as they entered the closter, Pablo called to a monk passing by asking him to warn the Abbot he needed to see him urgently. Without the slightest show of surprise, the brother glided away.

"Now we sit and wait," Pablo said as he installed himself on one of the stone benches lining the walls. A few minutes later, Brother Agustin, the Abbot's secretary drew near and bid them follow.

Domingo had seldom been inside the monastery and was now looking around avidly. There was a little stone chapel in the fields for the workers' devotions close by their huts and the animal pens, but it was a very simple affair. As they made their way along the corridors, passing before the grand church's open doors, he barely registered the intricately carved walnut choirstall, his mind was in such a turmoil. He couldn't imagine why brother Pablo had suddenly decided they urgently needed to see the Abbot, but hoped some good might come out of the meeting if he took advantage of the occasion to plead his cause, to impress on the man how deeply he wished to be entrusted with the precious relics the monastery was famous for. However, now they had reached their destination. Brother Agustin was opening the heavy wooden door leading into the Abbot's rooms and ushering them in.

Domingo stood next to Brother Pablo, fascinated by the Abbot's mineral stare. The man was medium-height and dressed only in a long thin brown gown but his presence was overpowering. His whole being seemed to ripple with energy. The old monk suddenly fell to his knees, hands joined as in prayer.

"Forgive me Father for intruding thus, but you need to hear what this young man has to say."

"Rise Brother Pablo." The Abbot's voice was unexpectedly soft and melodious, "You are known for having a level head, so let's hear this young man's tale."

"Speak !" the brother urged, "Tell our Father what the Virgen let you behold in your dream."

Domingo cleared his throat and then staring directly into the Abbot's eyes said, "This morning in my sleep I was sent a miraculous vision and my eyes feasted upon the golden wonder I have been seeking for as far back as I can remember !" As he spoke, Domingo's face lit up and his eyes began to shine.

"He saw the heart containing the Sacred Braid !" Pablo couldn't help putting in.

The Abbot took a step closer, dark eyes boring into Domingo's. His voice had lost its softness. "Describe this object, boy !" he ordered.

"It's a radiant gold heart, about the size of a woman's open hand, decorated with a blazing sun rising from a trammel of curling vines."

There was silence as the two monks looked at each other.

"You were right to bring him to me, Brother Pablo. Son," he went on, addressing Domingo, his voice soft and velvety again, "I have been duly informed of the unrest of your soul and the voices you say you hear which brought you to our door. This monastery was happy to welcome you and provide protection, for in villages accusations of witchcraft are quick to fly about when the simple people are faced with some phenomenon they don't understand. I truly believe that the Holy Virgin has been reaching out to you, and as a pious soul you know that Our Lord forgives sinners who repent, so now," and here the Abbot's voice rose and filled the whole room like thunder as his nostrils flared, "I demand you restore the relic of the Holy Braid back to this monastery."

Domingo stood rooted to the floor, mouth open. How could the Abbot think the relic was in his keep ? He had seen it clearly, true, it had been so near he could have touched it had he dared, but that was only in a vision !

"Speak boy and thank our Father for his great magnanimity !" Pablo shook him and tried to push him onto his knees.

"If I had that glorious heart, I would gladly give it to you, Father !" Domingo exclaimed shaking the old man's hand off, "For it is most precious, but how can you think I have it in my possession ?"

"Because, young man, you have described the Holy Braid accurately, and it has disappeared from our crypt." the Abbot was now standing so close to Domingo, narrowed eyes raking over his face, that he caught a whiff of the man's scent – almonds mixed with cloves.

The Abbot's last words had dealt Domingo a blow, "The golden heart was here, in this monastery ?" he stuttered.

"Why do you think that we have so many more pilgrims on the Camino de Santiago stopping here than before ? It's because word has spread that we were graced with the long-lost sacred Braid of Christ, a most sainted relic that we allow to be viewed only three times a year."

Domingo was flabbergasted. He had been close to the very object he sought without knowing it !

"It was really here ?" he repeated.

"You sound mightily surprised, boy, but yes, it was but now it is no more, it has vanished." The Abbot was still peering at him, brows knitted.

Resisting the impulse to seize the Abott by the shoulder, Domingo said, "You must believe me ! I have never even set eyes on this holy relic, except this morning in my dream !" and he turned to Brother Pablo, "Tell him I am not a liar, brother, you have known me for years..."

The old monk spoke, "I feel the boy is telling the truth. Apart from the celebrations of the Savior's birth, he has never been inside the monastery. I am ready to vouch for that."

The Abbot's stare was hard and made Domingo shiver, "You know that if you are a thief and a liar, you will burn in Hell for all eternity... but that will only be after I have dealt with you."

Domingo dropped to his knees but kept his face lifted to meet the Abbot's mesmerizing gaze. "I swear, by all that I hold holy that I have not set eyes on or taken the Sacred Braid."

"Well, then as you have miraculously acquired an intimate knowledge of the relic, perhaps God in His goodness has sent you to go out into the world and retrieve it."

A great shudder went through Domingo when he heard these words. They resonated in him like the echo of another voice whispering endlessly to him in his dreams... And now he was to set out into the world, officially charged with finding the object he had been hungering after all his young life. As the notion invaded his consciousness his whole being seemed lit from the inside and the Abbott took a step back, blinded by the radiance emanating from the young man's face.

#  Chapter 12  
2220 – It's a dog's life

Davor had been working with the calendar chip implanted in his brain for weeks and hoped he had mastered it. Jarrat wanted him to go back to the year 1555 on the Julian calendar in a province in the north of Spain and establish contact. Right now, the telepath looked more like an Art than a Nat, hooked up to the electronic device Jarrat has finally perfected after years or rather decades of effort and trial and error, and which would so amplify Davor's natural powers as to enable him to reach beyond time and space. Tobal, who had contributed to the scheme, was in the small corner room too. The electrodes he glued to Davor's' temples would project on a screen what the host – the person Davor made contact with, saw and heard. Both Hyphs were struggling to curb their excitement and all held their breath as Davor, eyes shut, began his dive back through time. As the years, the centuries sped by, his eyelids fluttered gently. Suddenly his features contracted and the electronic device began to buzz. And when Davor's lids lifted over a vacuous stare, dry shrubs appeared on the screen along with stones and reddish earth as whoever's eyes they were seeing through was travelling at a good pace but low down, near the ground.

Tobal spoke first, "That looks like Spain all right, those dried black things on the soil are certainly olives. I remember going to such a place on holiday with my mother. We bought a load of olive wood spoons – I would sniff them when I was hungry and even once tried to chew one up the smell was so enticing... but wait a second, I need to check the monitor, this doesn't look right !" Tobal got up and fiddled around with some dials, but the viewpoint remained the same.

"Can you communicate ?" Jarrat inquired, puzzled too but happy to catch sight on the screen of the gnarled olive tree leaves shimmering silver in the light breeze, a scene he had enjoyed when, as a young man, he had hitchhiked around Europe. There would certainly never be any olive trees on Zingu, it was really too cold and besides, trees were scarce and their height severely limited by the ferocious winds that periodically swept over the planet.

Davor spoke in a curious zombie-like voice, "Yes, I know I am in touch, I have succeeded in making contact, but there are no words as yet just an urge, a need."

And then the answer came as whoever was traveling over the stony ground made a beeline for a dark brown spot in the distance. Breathlessly, the men watched as the spot became larger and to their surprise they discovered that it was a rather shaggy dog. And then, all of a sudden, the picture on the screen was shaking and all they could see was the stiff fur of a dog's back and neck.

"You made contact with a dog !" Jarrat called out "And that mutt is humping one of its kind ! There's little chance that beast will help us retrieve the relic !" In spite of their disappointment, they couldn't stop laughing, it was too ludicrous for words !

"We should have expected something of the sort," Tobal remarked after Davor who, looking somewhat unsettled, had been released from the equipment, "animal brains are more permeable than human ones."

"As are children's," Davor said.

Jarrat looked thoughtful, "You might want to try for a youngster next time Davor, there's more plasticity there and so far adults have proven elusive and hard to crack."

"Listen, as we really need that code to feed through the Hyphs's backdoor and render them harmless, and this is proving a little sketchy, why don't we just try to go back to the days of SAVU, before our departure and ask me to reveal the code to us ?" Tobal suggested. "After all, I will certainly be more receptive to Davor's brain waves – or brain juice – than a 16th century Spaniard, be he a hidalgo, a pilgrim or a beggar !"

"Great suggestion ! I should have thought of that before !" Jarrat exclaimed, "I must be slowing down, getting dotty..."

"To go back to the good ol' days of SAVU," Davor quipped with a sly smile, "I'm curious to see what you guys were like before turning into Hyphs... Ok, here goes – provide me with a date and I'll give it a try."

As soon as Davor opened his eyes the screen lit up and Tobal and Jarrat saw their old lab but there was only one person in it – Jarrat. He was thankful his robotic body didn't need him to exert his will to hold it up, because the emotion of seeing his former self in the flesh was overwhelming. He was standing there, now yet 40 years old, a rather good-looking man, not yet gone to fat, wearing a rather perplexed expression, as if some important answer were eluding him. And they were now looking at him through Tobal's eyes whose voice they recognized.

"The code ?" Tobal said in answer to the words that resounded in his head, "You want me to give you the code I wrote to switch off the Hyphs and you claim Jarrat is requesting me to do this ?" The scientist's tone was incredulous and he must have turned his head slightly because they could make out a poster on the nearest wall. "But Jarrat is standing right here, next to me ! So there's no point in trying to trick me. I well know how wily intelligent computers can be. And if Jarrat requires that code, if the fated day has come that it needs to be used, then he knows where to find it." And with these words, Tobal obviously turned his head to the wall for now the poster of the monastery of Santa Maria la Real suddenly filled the screen.

"No, I said no," Tobal repeated, taking a step nearer the poster. "If you are really bona fide, you will know what to do, and now please get out of my head. Come on, away with you and your whisperings, scat !"

They had tried and failed... They would have to do it the hard way.

Like Jarrat, Tobal was left speechless by the sequence, although he had only heard his voice. But the sound was enough to take him back to those last weeks before departure and the feel and smell of Ynes' body once she had joined him. In the shadows of Berlin's devastated church, after a moment of hesitation, the young wild-eyed woman had melted into his arms, making him realize how much he loved her.

However, Jarrat was speaking again, drawing him out of his reverie.

"Davor, if you are up to it, try to contact a child around the monastery. We will plant the seed, let it flower and collect the fruit later... which, as you can travel through time, shouldn't take long."

"You mean, move along the time line and recontact the child at different periods of its development as the need to find the relic matures in its mind ? Brilliant ! That's our solution !" Tobal exclaimed, eyes shining. "Of course, if that part of my memory had not been wiped out long ago upon upload, we wouldn't have to go to all this trouble !"

"We agreed that it would be wiser, that this way you and the code are hacker safe..." Jarrat answered as he fitted Davor up again.

"I think you've done it !" Tobal exulted as after a few minutes a man wearing a coarse wollen tunic and lumpy trousers appeared on the screen. He was standing in a dark hut, staring down at something on the floor and it had to be a child looking up at him for suddenly a wail rose and he knelt, his rugged face came close, eyebrows knitted as he asked, reaching down, "Son, what is it ? What's wrong ? Why are you holding your ears ? Has some insect got into your head ? If only your mother were still with us, she would know what to do !"

Jarrat rubbed his chin, "We are certainly looking at that peasant through a child's eyes, there is no doubt about that and I'm sorry the child has to be inconvenienced by Davor's contact, but not even his mother could help him in his predicament. And if anyone were to unveil the truth, that the child has been contacted from the distant future, he or she would be burnt at stake. But you have done well Davor."

"I'll reinforce the message, skipping a few years each time until he is old enough to find a way to gain entrance to the monastery where you sent the relic, Tobal," Davor said, getting up and stretching. "That was exhausting and both you and that peasant, from what I dimly remember, were so pale, your skin nothing like ours and so short ! But that is nothing compared to how unfledged you looked ! Here you are, one of our great old ancestors, a pioneer without whom we would probably not be on Zingu and yet, shortly before departure and becoming a Hyph in order to ensure continuity as our new home planet developed, you were so young, your body so full of life !"

Jarrat let out a heavy sigh. "True, and it gave me a shock too, I can assure you, but you can't make an omelet without breaking eggs, as we used to say back in those days. Agreeing to an upload was the only viable solution."

Seeing their old premises had also summoned up the figure of Adan Gahr, the man whose insight and great fortune had upheld SAVU.

As they made their way back from the special room, Tobal was lost in his thoughts. In a way, he was relieved he had not seen his old self. It would have brought back too many regrets. After her arrival in the SAVU headquarters, Ynes's expertise had proved invaluable and he doubted he would have succeeded in sending the relic back through time without her, but what now gnawed at him was the recollection of her body flowing like quicksilver against his, the taste of her lips, of her nipples rising dark and swollen under his caresses, and the silky feel of the furry patch between her legs. He sighed, afraid to go any further on this train of thought. It would only be torture, encased as he was in this robotic body. He understood why she had refused the possibility of being uploaded when she had grown older on Zingu, in spite of her love for him. She was really earthbound and had never been able to shake off the great sadness that overcame her when she remembered life on Earth. SAVU's goal on Zingu was not to create a society of cyborgs, but as one of the first settlers, the privilege of an upload had been granted to her. She had never, however, totally adhered to her new life, often confiding her doubts to him and her pain at having abandoned her fellow humans to their fate. This regret would come up time and again in their conversations.

"I agree, small pockets of viable groups of people remained on Earth but the situation was beyond hope and we would have been condemned to extinction as a species if we had not ventured forth into space," he would reason.

"Beyond good and evil..." she answered softly. "Rules constantly reassessed according to the circumstances of individual perspectives."

"We created SAVU so mankind would survive. It took imagination, self-assertion and the acceptance of danger..."

"But those who didn't adhere were left behind," she would always counter.

"It was their choice, even if they were not conscious of being caught in the status quo bias which blinded them to the laws of evolution. You are well aware that nothing stays the same or if it does, it heads for extinction."

"Brought back a lot of memories... didn't it ?" Jarrat said, interrupting Tobal's musings. "And Adan Gahr has often been in my thoughts, particularly lately. I dearly hope his last moments were not painful. He had all the dope necessary to knock himself out once he had carried out INMANIS's destruction."

"I wonder what his last thoughts were," Tobal started...

"Most probably joyful," Jarrat said. "There was no cure for the disease that had started attacking his brain. He knew it was over for him but when he pushed on the button to blow the place up, he had the satisfaction of a job well done. Zingu's settlement was well under way."

"I hope you are right," Tobal agreed, "but it must have been a very lonely end, nevertheless. He was a true believer and sacrificed himself to the cause. But we sure were young in those days and I had Ynes. But you lived like a monk, already at that time. Wasn't there ever anyone ?" Tobal enquired, taking advantage of a moment when he felt ordinarily tight-lipped Jarrat seemed more open to revealing his inner thoughts.

Jarrat turned around the question in his mind, still unsure of the answer, "All my life on Earth I had been haunted by a woman, by her face to be more precise. She would appear to me on the edge of my dreams and before I could get a good look at her face which I dimly perceived to have beauty beyond words, she would fade away. And no woman I ever came across could rival with this vision. But then, on our journey here, I thought I had finally found her..."

"Was it Anabella, one of the passengers ? I remember you meeting often with her and her husband after our arrival."

"Yes, Anabella... she got to me – her face triggered some hidden emotion buried deep within but I never let on, it would have been embarrassing. I was nothing but a cyborg, and she dearly loved her husband."

"And then she passed..."

"Yes, but for all her beauty, she was only a pale copy of the woman stalking my dreams and whose face I still see appearing and disappearing in the dusk among the dancing lightning balls. At times I even feel a presence, light as a wisp of smoke, hovering over me and have come to wonder if all our science and technology have blinded us to the existence of what the ancient Chinese called the qi – a life force that permeates everything and links us to each other, to our surroundings and the past of our species ?"

Tobal seized Jarrat's shoulder, shook it and sought his gaze, "Now you are waxing philosophical, old friend. For me, we are just two old geezers dreaming away like lovestruck puppies."

" _Aye, but 'tis love, 'tis love, that makes the world go round !_ as the Duchess said. Had we not suffered its keen bite, we would certainly be over in ArcanArt, busy working on INMANIS's successor like our brother cyborgs."

Their brothers... a group of selfless pioneers who had made up SAVU, working like mad to reach their common goal before it was too late and the lights went out for good. But perhaps the word selfless was the key to what had happened to them as the decades rolled by. Their fellow scientists had been so dedicated to their mission that all other considerations had paled, including the wellbeing of their loved ones. Jarrat knew for a fact that when Torwall's wife had asked him to remain with her while she desperately sought a cure for the disease ailing her, he had generously provided her with the means for her trips to consult specialists, but promptly divorced her. The SAVU council had frowned on his behavior but nevertheless accepted him willingly as his input was invaluable. Jarrat sighed. A certain amount of compromise would always be inevitable no matter how noble one's goals. And he'd had his share too.

Tobal's voice broke into his daydreaming, "Anyhow, any minute now your lovelorn Kanell should be around with news of why that child was found wandering about ArcanArt. I told her to meet us in your digs – your soundproofing is better than mine."

#  Chapter 13  
2220 – Kanell reports

The Head Childminder's office was warm and welcoming. The walls were a tender pink, the furniture a soft blue and warm to the touch. Children on Zingu were a happy lot. They received plenty of attention from their minders and the other adults at HugTime. When it came to learning they were guided by their instructors who privileged hands-on learning and collaborative play, so the occasions when a child was brought to the Head were few and far between. Brawls most often boiled down to hair pulling or toy snatching and were easily resolved by the minders. Pamela was quite thrilled to be taken to the Head ChiMin's office. She couldn't remember ever having such an eventful afternoon, all the more so that Solia, the woman who had come across her beyond the lava tube had, after receiving a message on her wristor, handed her over to all the girls' favorite Hyph – the dainty Kanell who was young with beautiful eyes and long lashes. Nothing like the other cyborgs who were old and serious-looking. The little girl pranced in, all eyes, taking in every detail of the office so she could boast to her buddies, having already forgotten her transgression. Under no pretense were children to leave ArcaNat. Their safety depended on their abiding by the rule as their organism was not yet strong enough to cope with the level of radiation.

"Now darling, the Head wants to speak to you, so why don't you go and join her on that comfy sofa while I prepare a plate of cookies and a glass of milk ?"

The child was totally relaxed and they meant to keep it that way. Nobody on Zingu threatened children or spoke to them harshly. It was well known that pressure and threats are highly counterproductive and the community which was still relatively small – having little more than three thousand members, needed every member's goodwill and cooperation towards the common goal – making a new home for humanity.

"SaSha and welcome, Pamela. Once you have had a biscuit, I would love to hear about that nice kitty," the Head began as Kanell deposited the refreshments on the low table with a curtsy.

Tobal was busy going over for the hundredth time the code of the calendar device Davor used while waiting for Kanell, and Jarrat was pretending to concentrate on a study comparing fertilizers the chief gardener wanted him to check out, but his mind was wandering. He hadn't been quite truthful when talking about Anabella. It was only out of love for her husband that she had agreed to join SAVU. Zingu appeared sinister to her at first. It was colder than earth, the vegetation was as yet sparse and when not indoors, everyone had to don space suits. But when she became pregnant soon after arrival, these hardships seemed more bearable and Jarrat enjoyed watching her laugh and joke with friends. Alas, it was still early days, before they realized that hypergravity affected reproduction adversely and caused abnormal growth and development in the womb. Anabella lost the child as would many other women, thus forcing the scientists to resort to invitro fertilization and develop artificial wombs in which fetuses could develop normally.

Nothing Anabella's husband could do or say helped, she remained dejected for weeks and Jarrat, as one of the Hyphs in charge of the colony's smooth running, visited her often. All hands were needed on deck and the sooner she recovered, the better for the community. But even without that incentive, the Hyph would have come – her delicate face haunted him, by now its reflection having permeated his mind so completely he couldn't recall that other shadowy face that had always dissolved before he could lock it in. One day happy, in the time when all were still living in the first great dome erected after leaving the shelter of the lava tube, he found her much improved. As he entered the living space she shared with her husband, she was up, fully dressed for the first time in weeks and he was relieved to find her rallying. But his heart sank when, after inviting him to sit down and thanking him for his concern she opened up, spilling out for the first time her sadness and homesickness for the Mother planet. There is no simple remedy for nostalgia – and as things stood, the only way out was to look forward, not backwards to a world that no longer existed. And so, against his better judgment, he continued to check on her whenever he could, trying to convince himself that it was strictly out of a sense of duty towards the general wellbeing of the colony. But in moments of greater lucidity, he couldn't help wondering if he weren't taking advantage of the young woman's state of frailty and need for solace to draw ever nearer. And then, before he knew it, the tables were subtly turned. Now it was Anabella who sought him out and once they were cozily seated before a smoking cup of ersatz coffee, the young woman would reveal ever more private aspects of her married life.

"It's such a relief to be able to talk to you ; I know I can tell you everything for you are a Hyph, no longer a man. With you it's not like I'm revealing secrets about my sex life to an outsider, which would be betraying my husband's trust," she would say, smiling appealingly. At first, he was flattered but soon, as she demurely sat there, pouring out ever more juicy details of her love life, he came to realize that she was toying with him, probably out of boredom and the despair she felt at being stuck forever on Zingu. She was playing him like a string instrument, adroitly plucking away at his emotions and he was damn sure she could sense his arousal – mental, of course – as she leaned close to him and in a whisper detailed the caresses she yearned for.

To protect his sanity, he put an end to their perverse relationship, pretexting a heavy workload when she tried to entice him to her side, and charging Dom, his assistant, to turn her away. And he breathed more freely when he was let off the torture rack. Being overwhelmed by sexual heat and having no body to evacuate the tension accumulating was excruciatingly frustrating.

Had he been selfish ? Was he a coward ? He suffered from not enjoying her presence any longer but little did he realize that her games with him had been the last straw she had desperately clung to. When she was deprived of these mind games she sank. The spark that had been reignited in her clear eyes by Jarrat's attention died and after moping around listlessly for a few months, she took her life.

Jarrat knew exactly where her ashes were deposited in the great Garden of Sorrow Cube – slot 52, the 52nd person to die on Zingu. Her husband had survived her for some years, but not for very long. In those days Nats were not yet well-adapted to the harsh conditions of Zingu. The man was in slot 71.

Jarrat was relieved to see Kanell waltz in, spry as usual, but frowned when the Hyph glided up and peered at him asking, "Why so somber, Master," eyelashes batting. "I'm here now, cheer up ! Oh no, no, don't tell me you are still mulling over some woman, that would hurt my feelings..."

Kanell as Dom, was privy to most of Jarrat's secrets and knew he had been partial to Anabella, but he dearly hoped his assistant hadn't intuited the whole story.

"Better turn on the music, Jarrat, our Kanell looks about to explode she's got so much to say !" Tobal put in.

"You know what we used to say, in those long-lost days," the little Hyph began "that curiosity killed the cat... well here it could well have been the other way around as the kid seems to have been the cat's intended victim."

"How's that ?" Tobal turned the music up a little more.

"I checked all our friendly house felines and not a single one corresponds to the description of the cat little Pamela followed, which means that it came over from ArcanArt, and the kid said she really wanted to pet it because it had this alluring ring of pink fur around its neck."

"So there could be little spies circulating among us, feeding Torwald and the other Hyphs information about life here and seeking to draw children over to ArcanArt, but why ?"

"Tobal, that's easy to guess, even if it's ghastly," Jarrat answered before Kanell could go on, annoyed by her pouting, "they want to study children's brain circuitry..."

"Why do you always have to take the wind out of my sails ?" Kannell complained, beginning to sulk.

"Can that be true ?" Tobal inquired, seizing the Hyph's shoulder.

"Of course it's true !" Jarrat exclaimed, "And that certainly was little Matt's fate – no wonder he disappeared without leaving a trace. But more importantly, what does the Head ChiMin think ? Does she realize that the cat was not one of ours ? It was fortunate that the child was found by Solia. The girl knows what we are up against."

"Don't worry about the info spreading, Master. I did that checking all on my lonesome. The Head is concerned about the children's safety, and as we speak is having the locking systems on the doors upgraded so no small child can operate them. And you know how she revers you, so she will be in touch soon to discuss this matter with you."

"Good ! I see Kanell has lost nothing of my dear Dom's cleverness"

"Oh, Master, you're making me horny ! Go on like this and I might begin to drip oil..."

"Can't you be serious, you clown !" Jarrat thundered. "Our goal now is to keep the children safe of course, but we can't afford to let anyone suspect what really happened. Without realizing it, we are already well under siege."

"We need to speed things up too and lay hands on that relic, or rather, get that Domingo to handle it !" Tobal said.

"You are right, the Arts are bound to make another attempt to trap a girl child. I'll have Kyan announce that the time for the periodical general upgrade of all the androids working in ArcaNat has come round. That way he can run a check on the first rule of robotics – not to harm a Nat – to verify that it is still active."

"What about the Council ?" Kanell put in.

"We will have the Head ChiMin call a meeting to inform the colony to keep an eye open for children wandering beyond their sector. But we cannot let on what is actually going on. It is crucial the enemy believe we are in the dark."

#  Chapter 14  
The Age of Wonder

The Abbott had summoned Brother Anselmo, the keeper of the relics. Domingo followed him down a flight of stone stairs to the ground floor and through a maze of bare gloomy corridors. When they reached the entrance to the church around which the monastery had been erected, the monk's pace slackened and he sank to his knees so suddenly that Domingo nearly tripped over him.

"Watch your step, boy !" the man whispered harshly as he got up. Domingo's jaw had dropped in wonder. He was taking in the ornate wooden carvings lining the walls he had glimpsed moments earlier on his way to see the Abbott, stunned by the majestic raised dais facing the entrance. In a daze, Domingo took a few steps towards the golden splendor of the statue behind the altar. Bathed in a rosy luminescence as the morning sun passed through the rounded stained glass opening above, The Holy Virgen sat on a bejeweled throne, tender child on her knee, delicate hand holding out a white lily stained orange by its powdery stamen. Behind her the wall was covered with heavy blue damask studded with gold stars.

The monk allowed Domingo a few instants of contemplation and then pulling him away from the center of the nave, headed for a narrow staircase hidden by a pillar, near the south wall. Still blinded by the Holy Mother's radiance, Domingo missed the last step on his way down and tumbled into the crypt, landing flat on his stomach, much to Brother Anselmo's annoyance whose robe the boy had grasped as he fell.

"The Abbot's orders are not be discussed, but I do wonder why he chose you for this supremely important mission..." Domingo heard the man mumble as he got to his feet.

The vaulted room was spacious, dimly lit by torches sealed in the walls. The stone floor was a mosaic of large bluish and grey slabs of stone.

"Is this where the relics are kept ?" Domingo whispered, peering into the shadows surrounding them. It was much cooler here and oppressive, as if one could sense the great weight of the stone church bearing down on the vault.

"Yes, the church was built over the grotto where the king came upon the statue of the Virgen. Every inch of this crypt is sanctified and now it has been desecrated by some dog !" The monk's voice rose as he spoke, his face becoming a flaming red. "Behind those railings, where our relics repose, a sacrilegious knave dared set foot and not only did he carry away our holiest relic, but left a foul trace of his trespass."

By now, they were standing before the railings and the monk having unlocked the gate, they penetrated into the grotto proper in which stood three tables, their tops covered with dark green brocade richly embroidered with silver and gold thread. The polished ivory table legs gleamed in the faint light.

Domingo thought he was dreaming while wide awake. He discovered before his dazzled eyes relics of all shapes and sizes. To the left, as he approached cautiously, he saw a long gold casing encrusted with rubies. "That reliquary, young man, contains the tattered arm bones of Saint Bernardino, and this here, one my favorites, houses Saint Clare's hair clippings."

The relic Brother Anselmo was referring to was an embossed silver casket studded with amethysts and clear crystal. "But the crown jewel is missing !" the monk suddenly thundered, pointing to an empty space in the center of the middle table, "And the mongrel who took it defiled the Holy Virgen's grotto !" and with these words, he led Domingo between the tables to where a lonely turd reposed in a dried pool of feces on the stone floor.

The young man was used to rough ways, living as he did in direct contact with nature and its cycles, but leaving behind such a visiting card in this holy of holies got him thinking, after he overcame his initial shock.

"This second deed is foul and the thief doubly culpable, brother, but he might not be as crafty as one would expect..."

"What do you mean ? Speak boy !" Brother Anselmo's eyes were glowing like a cat's in the shadowy crypt.

Domingo passed his hand over his eyes, blotting out the distracting view of the softly glowing relics to better envision the glorious heart as it had appeared to him that morning.

"What we find here tells us something about the man who committed the deed. Either he is a miscreant and by defecating here wanted to show his contempt for the Church, or he was terrified of his deed and betrayed by his bowels..."

"In that case, he might be some poor wretch sent by a rich hidalgo anxious to ingratiate himself with the King who is a rabid collector of relics. It is well known that his majesty sends out countless emissaries to the farthest reaches of Christendom. And I know that our Abbott has been approached a number of times by the king's envoys who have tried to coax him to give up the Holy Braid," the monk said, caressing his chin. "However, ours are a God-fearing people and if a miscreant had broken into our sanctuary to defile it, he would also have thrown down the relics to stamp on them and damage them. And why would he have singled out the Holy Lock and carried it away ?"

"I didn't know the relic of the Sacred Braid was often sought after..." Domingo said, realizing that everyone seemed to know more about this relic than he did.

"You are astute, I see that now, but a bit of an ignoramus, Domingo. Haven't you noticed that the flow of pilgrims grows greatly on the three days the Sacred Braid is exhibited to the public in the church ?"

"Brother, when you toil the soil as I do, your nose is more often turned downwards. I have little leisure to note how many worthy souls travel through our roads on their way towards Santiago."

"Ah, but your nose has found the leisure to turn towards the heavens and contemplate the Holy Heart..."

"Only in my dreams, Brother. Dreams that have haunted me for as long as I can remember."

"Well then, perhaps you were indeed sent to us to retrieve the relic of the Sacred Braid as the Abbott believes, but if the theft was commissioned by a rich man, it smells of money. So, before you set out, let me investigate among the brothers and the laymen who gravitate within these walls. I should soon be able to ferret out information about whoever sold his soul to the devil."

Domingo didn't doubt Brother Anselmo would get to the bottom of whatever shady deal had been struck, if one had. He was a tall, skeletally thin man and his dark eyes above sunken cheeks seemed to go right through you, guiding his long bony fingers towards your very soul, eager to pry it open...

"Go to the refectory, get a good meal and some rest, for this evening I will be able to direct your first steps and you will be on your way."

#  Chapter 15  
2220 – Following the heart

Domingo's heart was singing as he left the monastery behind to head out on his quest, although his stomach was heavy and his feet leaden. The monk's fare was simple but much richer than his daily slice of bread accompanied by a hunk of crumbly cheese and a handful of olives washed down with a little wine on feast days. But digestion, however troublesome, did not affect his vision. When he lowered his eyelids, the glorious heart shone as fiercely as if it had been imprinted on his very brain.

He had sobered up nevertheless by the time he reached old Mencia's hut and learnt that his father had passed away earlier that spring. He hadn't seen the old woman in years and was struck by her appearance. She had seemed old when he was a boy, but now she was so shriveled up she looked like a mummy.

Trying to hide his shock, Domingo embraced her meagre body gently, fearing to do harm.

"So, my little dreamer has come back and looks well. What flesh I have lost you have gained," she cackled, smiling through her toothless gums, "now tell me what brings you back to this poor hut."

"Old Mother, I wanted to say goodbye and ask you for advice before I leave on a mission. But how have you been ?"

"Ha ! What do you think, my son... life got hairy for me after you left for the monastery. Perhaps the good people kept their venom back because I was useful to you and therefore to your poor father who was well liked in the village... but you don't want to hear about it," she sighed and turned away from him to rummage around in a wicker basket. "And don't remain standing, boy, sit down !"

"Tell me what happened, mamita."

"If you insist, but I'd rather not. I was put on trial for a witch is what happened. They said that you had visions because I cast a spell on your mother while you were swimming around in her womb. That I had never forgiven her for selling me a piglet that began running around like a mad thing a few days after I got it, yipping and grunting as it swelled and swelled until it flopped down dead, trotters pointing to the heavens, not a week after we struck the bargain..."

"That's a lot of nonsense ! You took me in and looked after me in spite of my sickness. I well know you not to be a witch !"

"Any excuse will do – give a dog a bad name and hang him. That winter was cold and harsh, the celebrations of our Savior's birth long gone, everyone was bored, hungry and disgruntled. There have never been as many beggars and vagrants in our midst as since gold and silver from the Americas started pouring into the King's coffers."

"So the clergy seized the occasion to lighten things up a little, keep the people on their toes ?" Domingo suggested.

"The church was only too happy to pay heed to the villagers' mumblings and accusations. So one cold morning, they knocked my door down and, taking hold of me, dragged me over to the village pond. There a wooden platform had been raised. Fat father Ximos was standing on it and he presided over the proceedings. That notorious one-eyed lecher, Tomàs, tied my left hand to my right foot and then, with the help of another scoundrel, threw me into the ice-cold water of the pond."

"The bastards ! But how did you not drown ?" Domingo had seized the old woman's brittle hand.

"Ha ! They were hoping I would float so they could burn me at stake, but the water was so chilly it helped me block air in my lungs and I stayed down so long that they finally felt obliged to pull me out... half dead with the cold. Only your father, God have his soul, was kind enough to throw a horse blanket over me."

In the narrow room on Zingu, Jarrat and Tobal had been glued to the screen. They had moved the calendar device ahead a few years and Davor had succeeded in reaching Domingo again, but not without considerable effort. They had been devastated to learn that the relic had been snatched from the monastery and were eagerly following the young man's peregrinations, Davor doing his utmost to keep the image of the sacred heart vivid in the young man's mind.

"Dunking was quite common in those days," Tobal remarked, "the people's imagination was boundless – suspected witches were pressed under heavy stones or searched for a third nipple called the witche's teat, with which she fed her familiars. When the devil wasn't dangling from it, of course, suckling on his nightly visits. But I mustn't digress. The boy is now tracking the theft, so we will leave it to him and reconnect a little later in time." He had turned away from to screen to look at the telepath who was deadly pale. "Davor looks exhausted, we need to stop now."

Davor rubbed his face with his hands, "Time has no weight, takes up no space and yet, the further back I go the harder it gets, it's like traveling through ever thickening gel... I'm sure happy Tobal didn't send the darn heart back any further or I might get stuck ! And the concentration needed to project what my target sees is debilitating."

Davor had dark rings under his eyes and his hands were agitated by a slight tremor.

Jarrat switched the screen off. "We can well wait. Torwald and his acolytes are still struggling to reach their goal. The fact that they are seeking to kidnap Nat children to study their brain circuitry confirms this, but we must be vigilant here in ArcaNat among our fellows and it's the men I'm mostly worried about. My take is that the women whole-heartedly adhere to the statutes. As a matter of fact, when pondering over our Mother planet's fate, I've often wondered – had the Earth been governed by womankind, if the mother goddess cults had not been supplanted by patriarchy and male dominated religions, would our old planet have been ravished to such an extent that life couldn't be sustained on it any longer ?"

"There certainly is truth in what you are saying," Tobal agreed, "unfortunately, the traits favored by natural selection are intelligence and aggression and it would seem that women score lower than men when it comes to belligerence. But to get back to the situation at hand, I'm guessing we have the same person in mind ?"

"Yes, one of our brightest, as might be expected, and someone I rather like. But let me first ascertain if my qualms are justified and my intuition pans out. Then we will decide how to handle the situation."

#  Chapter 16  
2220 – Getting wise

"How does a sexy chick like you dare come into a room full of big, horny Nats ?" Samuel joked as Kanell, bright-eyed and bushy tailed, entered the spacious lab cum office where quite a few men and some women were busy working on terminals or drawing on large easel pads.

"Because I know you will go for the goodies I'm bringing, you greedy boys, before your thoughts turn to being naughty !" she quipped as she pointed to the basket brimming with oven-warm cookies swinging on her arm.

"Fresh baked cookies, that's a treat !" Freddy exclaimed, "Are we celebrating anything ?"

"Sure are ! Council sent me over with these tidbits because your results have gone through the roof. You can all be proud of the good work !"

As she spoke, Kanell waltzed around the floor, batting her eye lashes and offering cookies. They smelled delicious and were made with real butter, an ingredient that was still rare and guaranteed to make everyone's mouth water.

"When you egg heads come up with a butter substitute that tastes just as yummy, I'll consider going whole hog !" she said, daintily lifting up the hem of her short skater skirt and winking.

"What wouldn't I do to get a close up on your nuts and bolts, your little tease !" Samuel joked as he took a step closer, hand reaching out towards her skirt, but missing by a few inches as Kanell twirled on herself and glided away, "You better learn to talk to a girl, sucker, or you will sadly be reduced to the five-fingered shuffle... as your forebears used to say." And with that, after depositing her basket on a table among jeers and roars of laughter, she whisked out.

"Mission accomplished, Massah, all the biscuits were successfully handed out !" Kanell hurriedly took a step back as Jarrat raised his hand when he saw she was about to curtsy.

"Oh Dom ! Why did you have to adopt this female joker persona ?" the old Hyph lamented. They were alone in Jarrat's rooms.

"Because I could, Master !" Kanell answered, using Dom's deep voice.

"So, what's the news ?" Jarrat sighed.

"Have a peek," Kanell smiled, unbuttoning her frilly blouse to disclose the screen on her chest. "During interaction, a cluster formed around this guy," she said, pointing at the screen, "and these big boys here didn't seem as relaxed as the others, some current was connecting them."

Jarrat's voice was grim, "This unfortunately confirms my suspicions... and I'm not the only one to be worried. Solia has been avoiding me lately and I know there is something on her mind. From a child she has been taken with Kyan – it was plain to anyone – but, being of a circumspect nature she resisted the attraction until she was mature enough to deal with it. Now, however, something is clearly amiss so I have asked her to join us. We can't forget we are under siege and any lack of vigilance on our part could have fatal consequences !"

"Do you really want me to stay ?" Kanell inquired.

"Yes, having a woman present – and you don't know how much it costs me to call you that – will make things easier for her."

When Solia left Jarrat's rooms half an hour later, her face was grave. She had been surprised and happy to see that little Kanell was there but once Jarrat began to speak, her mood darkened. His doubts about Kyan mirrored hers, but she still hoped against hope that they were both wrong. Her mission now was to delicately probe her colleagues, to see if any of the women had joined the men in wishing to create super AI and therefore fundamentally go against Zingu's statutes. She would start with the girls living with Kyan's breast buddies, see if they had broached the topic with their women, something Kyan had not done with her. Not for the first time, she wondered how attached to her he was, what his real feelings were...

#  Chapter 17  
The Age of Wonder

Old Mencia had finished rummaging in her heap of rags and odds and ends while speaking and was now holding out a small gilt coin decorated with a bas-relief figure of Christ on the cross.

"Take this with you. The Duchess of Soria gave it to me when she visited my humble hut dressed as a peasant woman, seeking a love potion to fire up her husband's loins so he would push a child into her dried-up womb. This coin is reputed to have been minted soon after Our Savior's death and will help lead you to the relic." And for good measure, the old woman also gave Domingo a desiccated toad – a charm that would protect him against the evil eye.

"Only a very rich man would dare command such a theft, some fool drunk on pride who believes he is out of God's reach. A madman foolish enough to place the King's favor above our Maker's."

"I should head towards Burgos, then, as Brother Anselmo advised ?"

"Yes, everyone knows that the Marquis de la Cuerva has a palace there – the Agueda – and he's the only nobleman powerful enough in this province to dare command a theft from a monastery. His tax collectors talk of little else than his riches and lavish life style when they come here with their eager fingers to claw away at the meagre fruit of our work."

"I heard him mentioned when the monastery offered us a feast one Easter. It was whispered among the brothers that he was a dangerous man eaten up by ambition and blinded by pride..."

"Rings true to me. Rise early and get yourself to Burgos, boy. And don't you let the good Madonna down, but first eat your soup, you'll need all the strength you can get !" Mencia's hand shook as she raised it to caress Domingo's cheek, "Be forceful and succeed in your quest, my boy, and then if you find it in your heart, come back to see an old woman before she dies."

The next morning, at day break, Domingo was out in space, moving in a kind of trance as he tried to draw up a plan to get admitted into the Agueda palace once in Burgos. Making his way down to the main road through the olive groves, his thoughts were violently interrupted when he stumbled over a heap of rags spreading out from the foot of a huge old tree. A spatter of oaths emerged from the mass of rags as a skinny hand started pulling at the rough cloth to reveal a lined bearded face.

"Give a poor beggar a crust of bread, good boy" the man sputtered through his rubbery gums.

"How could you even chew a crust ?" Domingo inquired, reaching into his pouch for a piece of cheese, "Here, take this instead, old man."

No sooner had Domingo begun speaking than the wretch staggered up, holding on to the sinuous crevasses in the tree's rough bark and begun to hobble away, calling, "Stay away from me, Devil's child !"

"What has got into you, old man ?" Domingo cried, taking a step towards the retreating figure.

"You are the changeling that sprouted in Juan's hut ! The mad boy ! Don't try to deny it – you've indeed grown but the sign is there !"

"What sign ? Make sense !" Domingo had now seized the man's bony arm and was shaking him.

"That extra tooth in your upper jaw – I saw it just now ! It's a sign – your mother, poor soul, said you had chewed your way out, leaving her all up torn inside."

"What else do you know, old fool ?" Domingo was looking deep in the vagrant's rummy eyes.

"That only the old witch would have you and your crazy mutterings ! Now leave me alone and keep your bread and cheese. I will have no truck with the Devil and his minions !"

When the beggar mentioned his mother, Domingo felt a dagger had just been plunged into his breast. Often, he had striven to remember her, her voice, her smell but it was all lost and the only face he could recall bending over him as a babe was old Mencia's.

"Do tell me more about my mother," Domingo pleaded, trying his best not to shake the man again, "and don't be afraid. I will do you no harm."

"She died, poor woman, recommending you to the Holy Virgen, hoping our Good Mother would fight off the fiend who has sank his talons into you..." the beggar spat out as he wrenched himself out of Domingo's grasp, and shuffled away as fast as he could. Domingo didn't attempt to catch him. The man's last words had left him in a daze.

"She did love me !" he exulted, "She guided me to the monastery of the Holy Mary so I could retrieve the Sacred Braid belonging to her son !"

Setting the hunk of cheese he had meant to give to the pauper on a flat stone in the shade, Domingo felt his heart surge towards the skies as he weaved through the august trees on his way to Burgos.

#  Chapter 18  
2220 – Investigating among blooms

Stepping off the underground feed, Solia took the lift up to the green houses where Elora, Samuel's partner, worked. Every time she set foot there, she was charmed, greedily breathing in the heady smells of loam and blooming flowers, enjoying the warm damp air so different from the general atmosphere of the domes. Solia often came by, both to find inspiration for her design colors and for pleasure, so no one was surprised to see her. She had been lately considering proposing miniature garden kits to the 5 to7 year-olds and took this opportunity to discuss what kind of plant would grow and flower at a good rate, children not being overly patient. Elora peeled off her gloves and pushed her frizzy pale hair back as she led Solia to the recently created experimental garden. Arable land had been a very rare and precious commodity for a long time after the first arrivals in spite of their hard work. The pioneers had immediately set about developing a microbial farm seeded with hand-picked, specially cultivated microbial communities and these microbes had soon begun their work, colonizing environmental niches such as that in which Arcana was built. But those hard days were happily over and now food was plentiful so Elora's demand for a new garden had not been considered extravagant.

Solia stopped short before an explosion of large fleshy pink blooms set off by dark green blade-like leaves. "But these are so beautiful one feels like rolling around in them ! They form a heavenly cloud !" she positively gushed, adding after a few seconds, "And present a rare mixture of order and abandon..."

"Aren't they alluring ? Those are Tobal's peonies. I finally managed to coax these plants out of the dessicated tubers we had in the bio-library. He says that in the Middle Ages they were used as medicine but I suspect there is more to it than that... I did some research on them and discovered that the ancient Chinese poets likened peony blossoms with their salacious pubic stamens to the female sexual organ and that in the flowery scent of certain varieties one could discern a hint of briny sweat. That got me wondering if there wasn't more to that Hyph than met the eye ! But now look here, I developed these buzzy flowers with kids in mind," the young woman went on as they left the billowing peonies, Solia regretfully looking back. Elora was pointing to what resembled a swarm of blue and gold bees pinned onto rigid stalks. The blooms were about three centimeters long with a small rounded yellow head, two nearly transparent pale green wings attached below the head and an elongated heart-shaped body, peacock blue with a gold trim.

"Can those really be flowers ?" Solia was baffled and reached out tentatively to touch one of the little creatures.

"Don't be afraid, they won't sting you !" Elora laughed. But Solia's eye had already been caught by another creation, "And these flat lacey disks with a yellow center looking like small violet plates on a stalk are incredible ! Do they have a scent ?" Solia bent down and breathed in deeply. The smell was reminiscent of a berry they had just begun to perfect, "It's like biting into a strawberry !" she exclaimed.

"I was lucky with that one ! At first it gave off a strong caramel-like aroma which wasn't unpleasant but a little too cloying in a flower. So, I investigated a number of enzyme-molecule combinations and ended up understanding how the flavor compound is produced."

"Must have been a lot of work !"

"Why not shoot for perfection ? I do it in my off time. But I'll admit it wasn't easy ; unlike for vanilla, the biochemical processes at work to produce the strawberry aroma are very complex."

"We sorely need all the beauty flowers can provide on this planet," Solia said thinking of the stark bluish stretches beyond the settlement, barely covered with dark spidery mosses, spreading out like a numb sea to the foot of the giant dead volcanoes on the horizon. The sight was really not uplifting and the twinkling lightning balls that danced about at sundown, didn't help all that much. "Nevertheless, aren't you overshooting the mark ? There is still so much to be accomplished to improve staples," she remarked.

"I get your drift, but put your mind to rest ! Working on the strawberry aroma, I've come a long way in understanding its biosynthesis and such processes could enable us to prepare the true strawberry flavor from fructose."

"And this could be used to improve our food ? To make delicious drinks or yoghurts ?"

"Precisely, so you see, working on flower scents isn't entirely frivolous," Elora concluded with a malicious smile.

Solia had another go at the strawberry scented disks, just refraining from biting into them when she noticed a cluster of red and white flowers rising out of a bed of dark bluish foliage. "Those bright red stripes swirling around the white cones like tongues of fire look just like the red and white candy sticks the kids read about in the books recounting Tellurian Christmas feasts !"

"I'm happy you said that !" Elora exclaimed, "Now take a sniff..."

"Peppermint, of course ! You are a real whizz with chemistry ! The kids will love these – How long from the bulb to the flower ?" Solia could already imagine the children's delight at growing such beautiful plants in their classrooms. It would help make up for their being deprived of going outdoors while young.

"About 12 days for the peppermint stripes and two weeks for the bees and saucers. That's really not long – the kids shouldn't lose interest."

"Tell me when you have produced enough bulbs. I'll design little planters for them and then we will get the children gardening !"

"No problem, the bulbs are propagating already, and a batch should be ready soon."

"What about Samuel," Solia then inquired, "doesn't he complain that you are always so busy you rarely make time for him ?"

"Oh, no that's not an issue. Lately he's been taken up with some project the guys are working on and only too happy that I keep busy on my own."

"Don't I know what you are talking about ! Kyan spends most of his time in the lab too – I even thought he was going to try to get himself crossed off the HugTime roster for a few weeks – and when I do get to see him, he looks like he's got a load on his mind."

"And says he's too pooped to talk shop when you ask ? Samuel does that too but Danica, who lives with both Roger and Freddy – those three have been inseparable since their earliest days in the nest – told me they have got some very hush hush project they don't want to share, for the time being at least, but that we might all be in for a big surprise in the not too distant future."

"Now that's peculiar, goes against the grain, doesn't it ? SaSha is our motto," Solia put in, "does Danica know what it's about ?"

"Something to do with programming, but she's not sure and what she overheard was so boring she stopped listening. She works in the cookery department and computing is not for her !"

"Well, I guess, we'll just have to wait till the excitement is over and the boys are back to their old selves," Solia sighed, although inside she had felt her heart sink as Elora spoke.

#  Chapter 19  
2220 – Coming close

All wristors had begun buzzing madly a few minutes earlier and a general alarm sounded. It was happening again. Another child had gone missing. Jarrat was over in ArcanArt on the office floor above one of the smaller workshops, where the Hyphs welcomed the Nats when they came over to discuss policy and production. Upon hearing that Torwald was already back from the glaciers, the Council had asked Jarrat to get a detailed report of the advancement of the project. It hadn't rained much this last year and water threatened to get scarce.

"What's all the commotion about ?" the Hyph asked Jarrat. They were both standing before a five-foot wide screen looking at a detailed map of the area leading to the mountain range and the glaciers. Torwald had colored in red the portions of terrain where an extra effort would have to be made to get the pipeline up.

"The carers can't find one of their charges – a little girl," Jarrat answered, keeping a tight rein on his feelings. "I believe something of the sort happened a few weeks ago. Just imagine, they found the kid wandering around here !"

"In ArcanArt ? What could interest a kid here ? There's nothing but automatons and robots at work !"

"I don't know, but as I recall, you were out mapping at the time."

"Should I order some of the bots to have a look around ?"

"Why not ? Who can know what goes through a child's mind !"

"You for one might," Torwald remarked, leaning forwards and eyeing him closely, "you were always different, more of a dreamer, was everyone's take."

"We didn't always see eye to eye when it came to details but we all shared a vision, a dream and it came true ! This planet is prospering, performing better every year."

Torwald shook his head, "Come on, old friend, don't tell me that Zingu is the fulfillment of your dream... We need to see beyond and not let the Nats' limited range of vision prevent us from considering the possibilities."

"Such as what ? What are you talking about, Torwald ?"

"It's obvious, isn't it ? We could soon have the resources necessary to spread out to another planet. What's to stop us ?"

"But why would the Nats want to do that now ? There's plenty here for everyone, the situation is stable, and Jenna informed me that one of our teams has begun looking around for a suitable site for a new settlement."

"Oh, of course, the Nats are happy developing Arcana and tending to their fields and gardens, but they lack vision. For them, progress is founding a new settlement. Typical Nat thinking to my mind."

"Seems legitimate to me," Jarrat answered, fearing where this conversation would lead.

"Legitimate for pulpyware, you mean – creatures who need an enormous quantity of resources to keep going and who are unfit for space travel. But we androids aren't..." the Hyph seemed to be thinking out loud.

Jarrat was thankful the robot in Torwald had blotted out his capacity for empathy along with his humanity for he appeared totally unconscious of the chill his last words had sent through him.

Just then Torwald pushed a button that had begun to flash and a mechanical voice rang out : "No child in ArcanArt !"

"Well, that's a relief !" Jarrat said, "Workshops are no place for a kid. I'll print out this map and present your report to the Council." He had heard enough and had no wish to stay any longer.

"Good boy !" Torwald said, patting him on the shoulder, "But when you are tired of playing the interface, remember that you are one of us and that we are here for you ! The adventure is by no means over !"

"We were right, weren't we ? He's not one of us any longer," Jenna said, coming in from where she had been listening to the exchange. "Do you think he suspects anything ?"

"Anyone snooping around our project will get what's coming to them, old friend or not..." Torwald answered grimly. "It would do well for meddlers to remember that curiosity killed the cat."

Jarrat wasn't sure just how to take Torwald's last words as he hurried back towards the lava tunnel, as always taking in with a shiver the windowless buildings and the lanes of hardened soil connecting them. Only a few straggly bits of yellowish grass growing here and there where the sun managed to reach livened the place up a little. No wonder the memory of their former selves had dissolved in his old comrades. Living for decades in such an environment was bound to have an effect on the soul, but they had chosen to establish themselves here, not wishing to be disturbed by what they considered the vagaries of the Nats. In fact, Jarrat realized it now, his old colleagues' ultimate aim had probably been to become machines, sentient machines of course, disencumbered by the mushiness of feelings and now that they had attained their goal, they would be merciless.

The first person he met when stepping off the feed was Solia. She looked troubled.

"The alarm is over, Jarrat, Niu has been found, and this time the Arts are not responsible. I am..."

"How's that ?"

"I told the children at HugTime about the extraordinary flowers that are being grown in the green houses and Niu, who has always been headstrong, decided to go and have a look on her own, at the first opportunity."

"Don't be too hard on yourself. The children need to be kept safe, of course, but they are slowly becoming more daring, striving for autonomy which is a healthy sign. Within one more generation, the Nats will be totally adapted to this new habitat, and children free to roam. But I can tell something is eating at you, let's go over to my rooms."

The Hyph's small living room was sparsely furnished and used mainly for discussions with Nats who, as a rule, weren't too keen on discussing business standing as so many cyborgs did.

"Would you like something to drink ? I've even got beer if you are interested... One of the guys in the lab had a go at producing the drink and brought some over. I believe he wanted an old Tellurian to check it out, tell him if it was the real thing... It smells right, but alas, as to taste, I can't be a judge."

"Beer ? I've read about it. It's supposed to be frothy and bitter but there's alcohol in it and I don't need that now, but thanks all the same."

"So, do tell me what ails you, young woman."

"You were right, the men – Kyan's gang – are up to something. I think they too wish to go ahead with creating a super computer."

"If that is so, they might decide to side with the Arts. We need to be very careful and you can't let any of them suspect what you know, which will certainly be no picnic when it comes to your partner who is no one's fool."

Solia's gaze wondered around the room before she answered, "I have always looked up to Kyan, it's common knowledge, and it has been great to be partners with him but..."

"But you're not sure how important you are to him, and what his ultimate goal is ?"

"There's a streak in him I can't fathom, it's like he's alone in the center of things, above and beyond our rules and what we all believe in – to Save and Share."

"It's called ambition, young lady, and it usually leads to ruthlessness."

"I can sense you are sad, Jarrat... Have you already encountered people with such leanings ?"

"Our mother planet was full of them and we know where it led her. Over the years, now and then, such an individual has popped up here on Zingu but we have always been able to steer him or her away from trying to impose their desire to achieve personal greatness at the expense of the wellbeing of the whole colony. To speak plainly, Kyan is our toughest candidate to date."

"Many look up to him, like there is something special about him."

"There is. And that spark in him makes the man all the more dangerous."

"Jarrat, you are like a father to Arcana and I trust you to know what is right for us all. I can dissimulate if need be, so don't worry, I'll be fine and will keep you informed of anything untoward I hear."

"I truly believe women are the future of mankind, Solia," Jarrat said as he picked up her hand and kissed it.

#  Chapter 20  
2220 – The telepath

Solia got back to her shuck with a basket full of groceries. And after lowering the pod into the ground as the winds had risen and were buffeting the structure, she looked over her booty, trying to decide what to prepare for the evening meal. Lunch had been a piece of rye bread with a hunk of cheese and she was hungry. When she turned away from the sink holding a full glass, Davor was there, his wideset eyes on her, making her spill half of the glass's contents on the yellow tiled floor. She hadn't been alone with him since he had projected his mind across time into the long-lost past and now found his presence a little unsettling.

"Don't be afraid Solia. Although I can see thoughts flickering around in the waters of your eyes, I cannot lift them up to my ears and listen to them whisper their secrets."

Solia had raised her hand and gently touched Davor's lips.

"I feel your lips moving, so you are not in my head..."

"Of course not ! Telepaths don't just break into other people's heads and so you know, we can communicate, but we can't read thoughts !"

"Sorry, I must seem silly, but what I learned about you the other day was really upsetting. We have been house mates for months and I had no idea you possessed special skills."

"My sort has been bred to keep a low profile and carry out Jarrat and Tobal's contingency plan when the need arises. As you know, the crisis is upon us now so we have to tighten our ranks. But I sense you hesitate to trust me. So let me share with you what Jarrat fears." He was looking at her intensely but a small smile played on his lips. "The Hyphs in ArcanArt are not his only worry – he is concerned with the situation here in ArcaNat, worried that there could be a faction that, given the opportunity, would side with the machines and their projected takeover, not a very bright idea, if you ask me, for who would trust a machine ?"

"How do I know you are not reading my mind right now ?" Solia inquired, taking a step back.

"Because I can't do that ! Test me !"

"All right, here goes – tell me what I'm thinking about !" She realized that sounded lame but she had a few up tricks her sleeve too. She imagined herself as Kyan saw her, reclining naked on their bed, legs slightly parted, one arm thrown behind her head lifting up her heavy breast while her other hand was weaving its way down through her soft maiden hair to the fleshy bud eager for her touch. The vision was so intense that she had to swallow hard to regain control over herself, but when she looked at Davor he was as cool as a slab of marble.

"Can't see a thing, I told you," he smiled, "but were I to venture a guess, I'd say you did your best to put me to the test. I'm no fool, Solia – it must have been a hot scene because your cheeks are flushed, your nostrils flaring, your breathing shallow and if I'm not mistaken, it would seem that it's a case of the biter being bit..."

"I'm sorry, yes I did my best to make you trip – men are quick to react to visual cues."

"That's we are all taught – the male hormonal drive is a loud scream." There was a spark in his eye as he pursued, "But apparently, fantasizing revs your engine too."

Solia was staring absently at the food laid out, her appetite gone.

"I could well do with a friend," she sighed.

"So, let's prepare something tasty and then you can tell me what is gnawing at you."

"You are right. Things tend to grow out of proportion when the body runs out of fuel."

Working at Davor's side, she found his presence relaxing. They had made meat and vegetable patties and after putting aside a share for Kyan, she was surprised to find herself chatting away easily with the telepath.

"What troubles me most is the children's wellbeing. When we were kids, Zingu felt like such a safe world in spite of the great outdoors. And we were secure in the knowledge that our elders were busy taming it."

"I know. Everything had a name and a place and everyone was working towards a common goal."

"And now, there is a kind of rift, as if the harmony presiding over Arcana was slowly dissolving."

"It's when the going gets easy and a settlement exceeds a certain size that things are likely to get a little choppy. That's why the Council has started looking around for another suitable location to start a new colony. But Solia," Davor said as he reached for her hand, "things will go back to normal here in Arcana. We need to trust Jarrat and Tobal and help them carry out their plan."

Just then, Kyan stepped into the room and took in the scene, before making a bee line for the plate of patties.

"Cool ! you guys have teamed up for some grub !" he exclaimed as Solia hastily withdrew her hand. Davor noted that the woman's face lit up upon seeing Kyan, but then a veil fell over her eyes and her cheeks lost some of their color.

Kyan moved around the room, rummaging in the fridge for a bottle of apple juice, cutting a few more slices of bread, like a tiger in a cage, exuding energy. It was this very quality that had so drawn Solia to him – and an appreciable number of other women. But now, compared to Davor's tranquil presence, it seemed excessive, slightly jarring.

"How about we get a good night's sleep, girl ?" Kyan said, as he lifted Solia off her chair, winking at Davor with a grin.

He was hard to resist. Clasped in his arms, she once again felt secure and cherished in spite of the doubts troubling her. A slight feeling of shame made her hide her face against his chest as he bowed to Davor and left the room with his burden.

Had she been weak or dutifully carrying out Jarrat's wishes ? Kyan's hands had played her like a fine instrument, sending long shivers through her body and the agonizing wait for his powerful thrust was exquisite. She had been unable to hold back and pleaded for him to enter her, to fill her before she swooned.

In those passionate moments, she was only too ready to trust him, believe he was a pillar of the community. His remark, however, after they had disjoined and she was still tingling with the keen pleasure he had given her, helped burst her bubble.

"Looks like our housemate is warming up a little – you certainly worked your magic on him tonight. I've never seen him hold a woman's hand before !"

"We were just talking, exchanging old memories of our childhood, how ArcaNat has changed since we were small and wondering what those Hyphs over in ArcanArt are up to." She felt foolish for the need to justify herself.

"My advice is you keep it on that footing. He's a nice guy but a woman like you needs a real man."

"A man who is not afraid of those Hyphs taking over the planet ?"

"Just so ! And Jarrat and his old friend can count on me to help them nip the cyborgs' plans in the bud. We are not about to let anyone take over our home, lover girl !"

Kyan had dropped off almost immediately after that, but she had tossed and turned and in spite of her long day and the extra workout, couldn't find sleep.

She was now sitting in the common room, trying to sort out her feelings after having risen the shuck again as the wind had died down, so she could gaze at the saffron moons which, like twin sisters, had risen high in the deep purple sky.

She didn't hear Davor's door open nor see him as he stood there in the shadows, petrified, struck dumb by the vision before his eyes. The seated woman was hallowed by a silver glimmer, tongues of light reaching over her shoulders to dance on her pale orange skin and over the folds of her long silky gown. Slowly she lifted her beautiful face. The night had stolen half of it, painting it with a dusky brush, but the other half was radiant and he had to fight the impulse to fall to his knees, for through the woman calmly seated before him, he sensed the presence of an age-old deity, the Great Mother...

#  Chapter 21  
The Age of Wonder

" _Find the Marquis of la Cuerva's palace in Burgos, get yourself admitted, take hold of the Holy Heart_..." the words resounded in Domingo's mind with every step he took, nearly blotting out the busy chirping of the passerines and blackbirds as they eagerly sought their early morning meal among the twigs and dusty grasses.

" _Make haste, make haste_..." The sun had been burning his back through his rough shirt for quite a while before he dropped down on the roadside in the thick shade of a towering tree. He pulled out some dry bread and olives from his bag before taking a swig of water from his sheep skin bota.

Domingo breathed deeply as he chewed his food, trying to relax and shut out of the mad farandole of words spinning around in his head. Soon the food did its work and his lids fluttered down as he dozed off, dreaming he was among the sheep in the monastery fields. A violent shake brought him back to the here and now.

"Fool, you can't catch a snooze by the side of the road like that !" a gruff voice said, "You'll get your throat cut and your purse emptied !" The man to whom the voice belonged was leaning over, scanning Domingo's face with heavily clouded eyes.

"You look like an honest lad, a merciful lad who will help an old crippled man up to the next village where they are burying his cousin."

"Why would I help you ? I need to be in Burgos as soon as possible !" Domingo said, rubbing his eyes and suppressing a yawn.

"It's just a mile off the main road, my lad. You are sturdy all right, but however fast you go, you won't get to Burgos before nightfall and the gates will be closed. Come on, the mule path up to the village is treacherous, it must be Our Lord that has sent me a good pair of eyes and young legs to make up for my withered pins !"

"What happened to you, old man ? Got in a fight with a pack of dogs when trying to bag some poor farmer's chickens ?"

The man did his best to stand tall, swelling out his chest, "Is that what you think of me ? Me, one of Pizzaro's valiant men ?"

"You are saying you really traveled to the Americas, you saw the Indios ?" Domingo's curiosity was piqued.

"Went there, fought them and was lucky enough to make my way back, thank the Lord !"

"Tell me, what did you do over there ? What's it like ?" Without realizing it, Domingo had begun to steer the vagrant towards the village path.

"Mountains, mountains and more steep mountains... and sneaky red devils all around."

"But you fought them ?"

"I did indeed till we took part in a fated ambush. The officers had tricked those diablos into a tight place – the view of our horses scared the holy ghost out of them and their arrows bounced off our armor. Can't say I didn't enjoy cutting down those Indios, but then one of the brutes got near enough to bash my leg right out from under me with his spiked club..."

"And then ?" Domingo had tightened his hold on the old man's arm. He had never heard anything as exciting back in the monastery.

There was a wry smile playing on the old man's lips, "Then my young friend, my skull would have been cracked open like a nut hadn't José, my mate, skewered the red devil right through the middle like a slab of meat."

After that, they were both silent, each lost in his thoughts, saving their energy for the climb which was indeed steep, the mule track rutted and strewn with loose stones. The old man moved ahead jerkily, grumbling whenever Domingo, who couldn't help himself, pulled harder on his arm to try to make him hasten his step.

"We're getting there laddie, don't you worry ! What's eating at you, boy ?"

"What's your name old man ?"

"Jorge."

"Well Jorge, save your breath for the climb, or we will never get there !"

Jorge chuckled, "Hear, hear the squirt serving advice to his elder, a seasoned warrior at that ! Bet you got the hots for some lusty servant girl over in the city !"

Domingo cursed himself for having accepted to help the old windbag. He would abandon him as soon as they set foot in that village and pursue his quest. He looked up at the clear sky, trying to make out the gentle face of the Holy Mother to tell her all was going to be fine. There was still plenty of light up high but the grey of dusk was beginning to seep in at the seams. Suddenly, coming round a corner, they heard strands of music.

"I told you we would get there in time !" Jorge exulted as he began to pump his bent legs as fast as he could.

Domingo had never attended a country funeral and didn't really know what to expect, but certainly not fiddlers playing a rousing tune. When they entered the small village, the street was empty. There wasn't a soul in sight if one discounted the chickens diligently scratching around in the dust, tossing up scraps of refuse or what appeared to be the village idiot snoring between two grunting pigs stretched out in the shade of the fountain.

"Come, come, the cemetery is yonder, behind the church !" To Domingo's astonishment, Jorge was now shaking with anticipation.

"What's so exciting about a funeral ? Aren't you sad your cousin died ?"

"You really are still wet behind the ears, boy ! And my cousin, he came back from the Americas with the seeds of the red corruption in him, something he caught from fornicating with dirty pagan she devils. Those seeds they grew, flourished and cut him down. He's in a much better place now, believe me !"

By this time, the music growing louder with every step, they had crossed the small paved square before the church and rounded the building. And there, while Jorge scuttled off towards the crowd, Domingo remained spellbound, as if turned to a pillar of salt. Before his startled eyes the open casket, made of a few planks hastily nailed together, was sitting dangerously near the brim of the grave and the assembly was joyously carousing among the tombs, throwing flowers at one another to the sound of the music.

"Welcome, come and join us !" A young woman bearing a wooden plate loaded with coarse slices of bread said, "We need to be merry to drown our sorrow ! Eat your fill – it's funeral bread, the bread of dreams, baked with darnel seeds. It will make your soul soar to the Heavens !"

Domingo was hungry and tired. He'd started out early, lunch had been frugal, and the day's journey along with the climb had taxed his strength. He thankfully accepted the bread, little realizing that within minutes the darnel seeds would send his mind reeling. As dusk was near and travel over for the day, he heartily drank of the wine from the earthenware porrón or jug that passed from hand to hand like greased lightning among songs and jokes. He then drifted over to the coffin and glanced inside but jumped back, bumping into a couple of lasciviously entwined villagers. The skinny man lying there, toothless black gums bare, had lost three fingers and one of his ears at some time in his adventurous life. The corpse was far from fresh as the intense activity going on under the threadbare waistcoat bore witness to. The agents of decay were already hard at work and the stench rising from the wooden box made Domingo gag. He accepted the porrón gratefully when it next came his way, rinsing out his mouth with the clear ruby liquid and splashing it over his face to the delight of those near him.

"Here, here, grease your snout with this, my hardy !" Jorge drawled, drawing up, clutching lumps of lard, "And as you've been a good boy, I'll let you have some to give to that widow over there – she's got her eye on you, the one left to her that is !"

No sooner had he spoken, than the woman in question shook off the heavy arm a burly farmer had placed around her shoulders so he could grope inside her bodice. She paid no attention to his loud protests and came up.

She was still young and fresh. What made Domingo take a step back and turn away, however, wasn't the pinkish hollowed-out cavity of a lost eye which marred the left half of her face, but her coquettish smile – red lips curled back disclosing two rows of black teeth.

Jorge bust out laughing, slapping his ragged thighs. "Don't you feel like biting that mouth, boy ! Look she's made herself pretty for the likes of you, painting her teeth black. Learned that trick from the Mexican harlots. Very much in demand in the great city of Burgos, believe you me !"

Domingo didn't answer. His head was spinning, the funeral bread and the wine taking their toll. He needed a place to crash and quick. Fleeing the revelers, some of whom were openly fornicating, standing up against the tombstones, while others were dancing and making lewd gestures around the coffin, Domingo managed to crawl behind a thick hedge of yews where, hand in pocket clutching the gold the Abbot had given him for his quest, he passed out, totally deaf to the voices that kept whispering in his head.

#  Chapter 22  
2220 – Buried secrets

"Davor, I know that trying to follow that boy Domingo is hard work and it's plain to see that you are exhausted, but I would nevertheless like to ask a favor of you. All my life, if I can so speak, I have been troubled by what I can only describe as a ghostly apparition."

"You've often mentioned sensing shadows surrounding Arcana," the young man agreed.

"Yes, I do believe that they are those of long-lost creatures who once roamed this planet and I know that you have been aware of them too."

"True. Sometimes, when I'm about to fall asleep, I hear faint voices whispering, _who are you ? Who are you ?_ and a gentle breeze toys with my hair although I'm in a closed space."

"Zingu keeps its secrets jealously and we would be fools to try to pry into them. Moreover, only few of us sense this ethereal presence. But the phantom I'm after lies in my own past, on the Mother planet. I need to go back to my childhood for I am certain the mystery is buried there. To be honest, I have already asked your predecessors to let me have a glimpse down the hallways of time but their gift was lesser than yours and the technology wasn't up to it either."

"I'm ready ! Just fix the year !" Davor smiled. He'd always felt he had a special relationship with Jarrat.

"I sense this demand is very personal," Cristobal started, which earned him a good kick in the shins from Kanell who wasn't about to miss any tidbit concerning her boss, "would you like us to leave you two alone ?"

"No, no please stay. Whatever secret we discover is not my secret ; it's my parents'."

He had to be in bed lying on his back under a thin duvet, for when he opened his eyes he recognized his childhood bedroom ceiling. There was a funny kind of stain up there that reminded him of a bunny with long floppy ears. He also recognized the almond green walls and the beige doors of the wall closets when he turned his head slightly. Through the window, a faint stirring caught his attention. A magpie had landed on one of the birch branches, making it quiver.

But there were whispers coming from the hall beyond the door which was ajar. And now, on Zingu, light years away in time and space, staring at the screen, Jarrat clearly heard the words he had not been able to distinguish all those years ago.

His mother's voice first, "The doctor said he could come out of the coma any time now. We need to decide what to tell him when he asks where his sister is."

And then his father's, "Yes, but if he is still suffering from amnesia when he wakes up, he will have forgotten what happened and that he even had a sister..."

"Which could be a godsend as when we found him on the lake side, curled up against the body he had managed to pull out of the water, he was crying and blaming himself for her death... I was afraid for his sanity."

"That's why his brain took over, blotting everything out. The doctor said the load was probably too heavy to bear."

"Why did Charleen take him to those cliffs in the first place ? I don't know what got into her. Especially after the terrible draught we had this summer."

"Thankfully, he landed on his belly... but the water was much too shallow for her."

"Every time I look around the house and see mementoes of her, I break down I miss her so. She was such a sweet, beautiful girl." Jarrat could hear his mother sobbing and his heart tightened.

"Well, let's put everything that speaks of her away and if Jamey still suffers from amnesia when he comes out of that coma, I think we should act as if he never had a sister. It will enable him to take a new start." His father's tone was determined.

After that there were hushed steps over carpets and louder ones on parquet floors, closet doors were opened and snapped shut, drawers emptied, photographs unhung and condemned to oblivion in dark boxes, and the whispers went on, snaking along the halls, in and out of the many rooms and then he heard words, spoken excitedly right above him – "John, John, come quick – Jamey's waking up ! Oh my darling, it's so wonderful to have you back !" Two faces floating above his own, eyes kind but ever so slightly narrowed, watchful... and the face he kept seeing in his long dream, and desperately longed for was not there.

Now Jarrat understood the uncanny feeling that had pursued him as a child and later in life, right up till the present moment. The feeling that a piece of the puzzle of his life was missing, for upon hearing his parents speak Charleen's name, the ghostly radiant face had materialized before him and he now knew it to be his dead sister's. Ever since waking from his coma as a boy, he had been held prisoner by a diffuse feeling of guilt linked to that beautiful phantom face. Now too he understood why, every time he looked at his parents, there was that unsettling awareness that they might be wearing masks and had somehow mysteriously become aliens, or worse still, could have been aliens all along. Could this tragic episode and the lies smothering it have kickstarted his unendurable desire to leave his home planet behind and venture out to a cleaner, safer place ?

Jarrat tapped Davor's hand slightly, to signify the end of the seance and sat down, breathing heavily.

"Now we know why you never went a'courting !" Kanell was quick to remark.

"Your parents wiped out a great portion of your life. What could make people feel the need to do that to a kid ?" Tobal wondered, stepping up behind Jarrat and grasping his shaking shoulders.

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions... I guess they were being protective. Obviously, my slipping into a coma frightened them. I now recall I was extremely close to my sister and even as a kid I could see that they resented our intimacy, feeling left out or afraid it was somewhat unhealthy."

"Perhaps they were worried about losing you too once you woke up, fearing the shock of learning of her death would send you around the bend."

"Well, culling away a whole chunk of my past might have saved me from despair when I emerged from that coma, but it also hollowed me. There was always something essential missing and I believe my subconscious was trying to tell me what it was, sending me visions of what I now know to be Charleen's beautiful face..."

"Good, that means no more moping around for you now, Master..." Kanell put in, beaming, "Time to open yourself up to love !"

"Don't get your hopes up too fast, Dom, for I am old and hoary and no catch for a lusty colleen..."

"I've never heard you joke before," Kanell's jaw had dropped inelegantly but she quickly put things to rights, pursing her lips before coaxing out a coquettish smile.

"Wouldn't you, Kanell, be ready to shout and cry for joy if you had finally unlocked the dark secret lying at the very root of your being ?" Tobal remarked.

"I guess so, Tobal, but if you don't mind my saying so, you always make things sound a little too melodramatic to my taste."

"That's the poet in me, young lady, but we need to thank Davor for his effort."

"Indeed, without you Davor, my sister's existence would still be shrouded in lies and deceit. It's hard to believe that those two people could wipe away all traces of Charleen's existence. And that's probably why we moved shortly after I recovered from the coma. The pretext was getting me away from a place where I had a bad accident."

"So what happens now ?" Tobal asked.

Jarrat passed his hand over his face and said, "I must confess that I have one more favor to ask of Davor... I often think about my old physical self who remained in SAVU to carry out the last operations before the empty base was destroyed. And I would like him to die in peace, knowing who was haunting him and why, so he could go to wherever one goes after death, freed from the gnawing guilt that pursued him all his life."

"I'll do my best," Davor answered immediately, "that version of you – the flesh and blood man offered SAVU his last days as a mortal, and he deserves the solace. It's the least I can do."

Once Davor got down to business, adjusting the calendar, the screen lit up again and Jarrat and Tobal's lab appeared. Fascinated, Jarrat saw his hand pick up a felt tip marker and begin to write on the white board hanging on the wall next to the poster of the monastery. He then apparently took a step back to read what his hand had automatically written and the pen dropped to the floor. He must have turned round for Tobal appeared as they heard Jarrat shout excitedly, "Tobal, the key to my past has just come from the future, look at what's on the board ! And I'm up there on Zingu, still going strong, years from now, and so are you !"

Tobal stood before the board in silence and then clasped his friend in his arms before looking up to the ceiling as if trying to see into the void of space, face beaming. "We have received word ! We knew it would be possible, but I can't help it feeling like a miracle ! And what you have learnt will put your soul at rest. Now you know who that ghost is ! But tell me, he asked, turning back to his colleague, how did you receive the message ?"

"It has to be through one of the telepaths we are striving to develop."

"Then that voice asking me for the code some time ago could well have been yours, Jarrat, and not some maverick cyborg's out to lay hands on it to destroy it."

"We were right not to disclose the code, safety lies in following procedure and our Hyphs up there in the future know what to do to retrieve the information," Jarrat's voice was firm.

"Do you think you are still in contact ?" Tobal had stars in his eyes.

The room spinned as Jarrat shook his head, before stopping abruptly.

"I can hear a voice ! it's faint. They want to know if everyone has left, if we are about to destroy the facility."

Tobal looked at his friend, and spoke slowly, "So they never knew, or rather we as cyborgs never knew..."

"That Adan Gahr had from the very start programmed a control experiment. Zingu was not the only planet that was to receive its rocket loads of humans and cyborgs. Tell them, Tobal !"

It seemed strange to be speaking to oneself years down the line but Tobal, clearing his throat, did his best, "The SAVU installations are much larger than most of us thought and now that the last colonist have sped off to Zingu, we are launching the Sozo venture. Robots and men left for that planet over two decades ago from a site located more to the north with no one being the wiser and now, before we blow up the whole place, we are sending out the last contingents of settlers." The words were fainter and fainter and then the communication stopped altogether.

On Zingu, Jarrat sighed before speaking, "Adan was always a great admirer of Darwin and his theory of the survival of the fittest. It seems unbelievable that in all these years we have had no knowledge of a sister planet being colonized. And Sozo, most certainly, ignores the existence of Zingu."

"Will we ever get in touch and if so what then ? Will natural selection pitch in giving one of the planets the advantage over the other ?" Tobal sounded bewildered.

"It's Adan playing God, kickstarting mankind again, before he passed away. Clever, but I can't help feeling betrayed," Jarrat's tone was somber.

Tobal patted his friend's shoulder, "One could see it that way, but it's mostly good sense. Why let the fate of humanity depend on one experiment only ? Our kind has more chances of surviving into the future this way."

"Grin and bear it, that's what you mean ?"

"I guess so. We were all of us tricked, but so were the Sozo settlers I'm ready to bet, and perhaps you and I will last long enough to see if anything comes out of it."

"Always the optimist, Tobal ! I'm happy to have you."

But just then, as the picture on the screen faded along with the voices of their long-lost selves, Davor slid out of his armchair onto the floor and Solia, who had stepped into the small room rushed over to him, brushing aside the two Hyphs who stood there, rooted to the spot.

#  Chapter 23  
2220 – The den

Solia shivered as she got off the feed and walked up to her door. She had just been over to ArcanArt, coming across Torwald, on her way to check on the prototypes of her new toy set. Contrary to Jarrat or Tobal, the Hyph had made her uneasy for as long as she could remember. Anyhow, that part of Arcana always seemed dismal to her but all the more so now. She was well aware that automatons and robots had no use for buildings designed to please the eye, nor landscaped gardens with bright flower beds and shrubs. Nevertheless, she couldn't help wishing a little more care had been taken when planning the production units. The maze of drab, windowless buildings linked by paved paths where gushes of wind played with eddies of fine bluish dust seemed to absorb light and even when the sun was at its zenith, ArcanArt remained cheerless, its starkness sucking in the sun's rays and giving out nothing in return. Blotting paper ! That was what it reminded her of – ArcanArt absorbed whatever came near and transformed it – spitting out building materials, cloth, machines, which brought to her mind a poem written by a man who had lived on the Mother planet long ago. She had come across it when digging into the archives and the strange name had caught her fancy : Kalamazoo – _The sins of Kalamazoo are neither scarlet nor crimson. The sins of Kalamazoo are a convict gray, a dishwater drab._ Kalamazoo, Kalamazoo... the word had spun around in her mind for days like one of those catchy tunes that get stuck in your head.

But perhaps she should reign in her imagination. After all, to spew out goods, that's what factories were made for ; there was nothing abstruse about it. And her new set of farm animals was coming along nicely – the colors just right. She was eager to see how the children would react to them.

As she raised her hand to the knob, the door to her shuck suddenly opened and Davor stood there, fully dressed and ready to leave.

"SaSha ! I didn't realize you were home..." They hadn't had a moment alone since the other night after she helped revive him from his fainting spell, and felt self-conscious in his presence. His just remaining there without speaking wasn't exactly helping.

"SaSha Solia ! I need to get out – breathe in some fresh air ! But, I didn't expect you home, isn't it HugTime ?"

"No, today is MingleTime, when the different age groups get together in the big dome."

"And what about Kyan ?"

"He will be held up in the lab till late," she answered, glancing at her wristor.

"Then why don't we go out together ? You look a little on edge and are all bundled up already..."

Speaking, they had retreated into the pod and Solia put down her folders, pocketed a chocolate snack and filled a bottle of water at the kitchen sink, turning back to Davor to inquire, "Cherry or wildberry ?" as she held out two small vials of flavoring.

"Wildberry."

"Of course, everyone's favorite !"

"Do you always stockpile rations when going for a walk ?" He was looking at her with a smile.

"Didn't you go to Endurance classes and learn that there is always a risk when you venture out on Zingu ? The least you can do is to have a few provisions to tide yourself over until the rescue team arrives."

"You sure you aren't pulling my leg ?"

"Scout's honor, no ! Aren't telepaths taught Endurance ?"

"We never got to mix much as youngsters..."

By now they were traveling on the feed towards the sliding doors opening out on the fields, the hinterland and the rolling swell of the argent hills in the distance.

As they made their way beyond the rows of shucks, past the large building housing indoor sports, they heard the muffled sound of the kids running around under the translucent dome, which shone like a giant crystal against the green sky.

Solia well remembered the excitement of being allowed to play with older sets and couldn't wait for the day the pale pinkish skin of kids her age would become burnished like the older children's. But even then, among the throngs of older children, Kyan had stood out, taller, stronger, his skin already a mellow copper.

Suddenly a thought struck her, "I don't remember seeing you during MingleTime, Davor."

He made a funny sound – something between a moan and a laugh. "I was there most of the time, doing my best to hide in a corner – no mean feat when you are housed in a globe."

"Whatever for ?" She couldn't remember any of her nest buddies ever shying away from company.

"As I told you, we were kept mostly apart and I was afraid of crowds. You see, as a kid I had all these voices chattering at the same time in my head, some very strange ones I couldn't make any sense of... It took me years to discipline the flow of words and ideas zipping this way and that through my brain."

"Do all telepaths go through this stage ?"

"Yes, but only a few of us manage to master both the input and the output and sort things out. Those who fail to do so are useless as telepaths."

"I had no idea..." she had stopped walking and had taken hold of his arm, "It must have been hell. What helped you to succeed in mastering your gift ?"

"I sought peace and calm by delving into the minds of animals – humans are too mixed up... I tried some of the cows we keep here. It was a relief to immerse myself in a tranquil soul's cool brain."

She had often stared into the shaggy cows' soft brown eyes as the beasts serenely chewed their cud just as they had done, so many generations back, on the planet that had first designed them.

"Makes sense, they are placid creatures."

"But that wasn't enough. Now come, if we skirt around this field and head towards that copse, I'll show you my secret hideout." There was a sudden spring in Davor's step.

But Solia hesitated. The dying sun glowed like crushed grapes against the shamrock sky and a light mist – a welcome phenomenon that had started to appear only a few decades ago on Zingu – had risen like a pink cloud above the fields, gently floating towards the hills. Soon the twin moons would rise over the horizon, like two benign but mysterious eyes, and since childhood, she had been warned, like all the other children, not to venture out after dark. Moreover Kyan, if he deigned come back to the pod before the end of the night, would wonder where she was. But recalling how weird he had been acting lately helped her make up her mind.

"Yes, let's go !" she decided, taking in Davor's wide-set eyes shaded by dark curls, cheeks flushed and not only from the cold, she suspected. For all his calm, his presence was exhilarating and she felt safe with him.

Davor grasped her hand, and within ten minutes they had reached the copse he was heading for. It was nested against a range of low hills protecting it from the dominant winds. Davor led her through a labyrinth of thick trunks and pendulous branches to a dark opening in the mound before them. There was very little light in the thicket, Solia couldn't even see the sky through the fronds, but she enjoyed the mossy smells of the earth and the sharp twinge of turpentine floating in the air.

"Is that your hidey-hole ?" she queried, breathing deeply and taking a few steps towards it.

"Yes. Come, let's make ourselves comfortable."

Being both tall, they had to bend low to get in. The cave was not very large and once inside, after settling herself on a thick carpet of dry moss, to her surprise, Solia felt warm and cozy.

"How did you discover this ?"

"I was on the lookout for just such a place..." Davor started, looking at her and then he turned his head away.

"What ? What is it ?"

"Most people think me queer and I never thought that you, Solia, would come out here with me."

"Well, I'm here now so make the most of it !" She had taken his hand and was holding it tight.

"I know that every time I open my mouth, I reveal how different I am."

"Listen, Jarrat and Tobal have been very clear about you having special powers, but that just makes you more gifted than the rest of the Nats, that's all !"

"Perhaps you are right, but having to hide my capacities from my companions has taken its toll over the years."

"Yes, you put up a kind of invisible barrier to keep others out. I never even gave you a second thought although we shared a pod."

He smiled bitterly, "Alas, only too true..."

"But I'm conscious of you now, Davor, and you can speak without fear." She felt his gaze on her as he turned round.

"So be it !" he sighed. "Jarrat placed great hopes in me. Indeed, both my parents, I know this from what he told me, had impressive powers, and under his guidance managed to cast their minds into the past and make contact with creatures living then. But their scope was limited. They could not delve deep enough to reach the epoch to which Tobal had sent the relic. So, when I had managed to sort things out in my mind, Jarrat asked me to practice traveling into the past. I still keenly remembered how painful it was to have hundreds of voices swirling through my head so I aimed for a peaceful time."

"Far, far back ?" she suggested eyeing him eagerly.

"You can say that again ! I believe I went back to before man had taken over the Mother planet, although to reach that epoch, the strain was frightful. When I made contact, I was in a place such as this. Earth and roots dangling down all around me and I was curling up on myself, getting ready to hibernate. I could smell snow outside, but that didn't worry me. I had a full belly and was in a safe place, drifting off."

"You had reached a bear hibernating ?"

"Yes, I'm sure of that. I could see thick hairy paws and sharp glossy claws. I can't tell you how relaxing it was to be in that great dozing brain... I would retreat there every time things got too intense for me. Until the bear died. It was a very sad day."

"And then you sought out your own little den ?"

"I've been coming here for years, when I need to get away from it all." He sighed as he looked around, "Not a very appealing place to most people, I can imagine."

Solia was pulling her snack and water bottle out of her bag.

"I feel fine here and we are not hibernating, so let's enjoy our food. I'm starving."

"Indeed, it's long past supper time."

They took turns biting into the candy bar and drinking from the bottle in companionable silence.

"What do you do when not training to increase your powers ?" She suddenly realized that she had never thought to ask.

He smirked and took a last swig of the wildberry water. "I work with mushrooms... select strains and oversee the fruiting chambers."

"What ? You mean we have mushroom crops here in Arcana ?"

"Of course ! They're a precious source of vitamins, anti-oxidants, nutrients and whatnot. Stuff we all need to keep healthy."

"And where are these mushrooms grown ? I've never seen a mushroom field !"

She had got him laughing, "Solia, our crops grow underground, in caves ! If you wander beyond the green houses, you'll notice a large mound of earth. It has been dug out and on trestles of a growing substrate made with a lot of our recycled waste, we place mushroom spawn – spores in a nourishing liquid. And quite soon, depending on the kind of mushroom, we have a harvest."

"I bet you volunteered for the job. Sounds like there wouldn't be too many people around."

"Indeed, I did enjoy working in the fruiting chambers at first, but then, as time went by, those strange mutterings I had never been able to account for got closer, louder, more insistent, as if trying to make contact."

"What are they ?" Solia had moved nearer to Davor and was looking around nervously. Could Zingu be home to other creatures ? It had always seemed strange to her that the first settlers had found a planet devoid of life apart from some microbes.

"I can't say. After initially increasing, their chatter never got any louder and now I'm able to blot it out completely. Would they be echoes of the voices of a people who inhabited this planet before us ? Jarrat is partial to that theory. But they could also be messages sent by telepaths from other worlds. I don't think we will ever know."

Solia was leaning into him and Davor placed an arm protectively over her shoulders.

"Don't worry, I don't think there is anything to fear. As we have all sadly learnt, man is his own best enemy... Nothing can do to him what he hasn't already done to himself."

After a silence, she heard herself say, "I'm worried about Kyan. I don't know what he's up to."

"Ah, Kyan..." Davor sighed before lifting up her face and looking deep into her eyes. "I should have recognized, you, Solia – those eyes of yours give you away. You were one of the little girls always trailing behind Kyan, who was, and still is, everyone's favorite. I used to envy him."

She caught her breath as her cheeks flushed, "Why ?"

"Not because he was taller and more popular, but because that little girl with the turquoise eyes never let him out of her sight..." his voice had died down to a whisper.

After a few seconds she lifted her face and kissed him gently on the lips.

"That's all I can give you for now, Davor," she said, and got up slowly. "Time will sort things out."

"That's enough for me !" he answered, eyes glowing like a feral creature through the soft curls hanging over his forehead.

When they reached the settlement bathed in the silvery light of the twin moons, they stopped and stood gazing at the shimmering domes surrounded by rows of shucks rising out of the ground. And without speaking, they both felt they were indeed settlers of a new world. And then they separated. Solia went back to the pod as Davor disappeared into the complex.

Daytime belonged to men and their toils but the night belonged to the stars. Later, after Kyan had come home and was gently snoring at her side, she felt drawn up to their mysterious faces mercilessly pinned to the dark fabric of the night and yet so valiant, glorifying the boundless expanses from which they were born. Later yet, she saw Davor come up to her, tentatively holding out a bouquet of white flowers. When she bent down to breathe in their scent, she discovered that she was holding a nosegay of delicate pearly mushrooms and she laughed in her sleep.

#  Chapter 24  
The Age of Wonder

"What's he doing there stretched out like some dead creature behind those cypresses ?" Jarrat exclaimed, "We need him to be on his way !"

" _Wake up, wake up !_ " the words echoes insistently in Domingo's brain, causing him to rouse from his drunken slumber, head shaking, legs thrashing.

" _Wake up, the Holy Mother needs you !_ "

The young man slowly sat up, taking in his surroundings, at first befuddled. Then slowly remembering where he was and the carousing of the night before, he buried his face in his hands. He had been remiss in his duty, he knew that. The sun was already high and Burgos still far. After checking that no one had laid hands on the monastery's gold, he got up only to fall back on his knees, retching. The whole world was spinning on its axis and he grasped one of the cypress trunks for fear of being flung high into the skies by pure centrifugal force. When he had finished emptying his stomach, things became a little steadier and he managed to get up and looking around, noticed the pump used to water the cemetery flowers just a few meters away.

The cold water splashing over his head helped clear it but by no means muted the voices who were now clamoring, " _Get to Burgos, find the relic !_ " louder than ever. A quick look at the graveyard revealed that the coffin wasn't resting on the brim of the open grave any longer. He wondered if it had been lowered down and not just pushed in by some drunken knave. There were a few wooden clogs strewn here and there and a woman's torn shawl thrown over a tombstone, but apart from that the place was empty.

"I'm on my way, Holy Mother, forgive my weakness !" he cried, face raised to the sky. And then, to Jarrat and Tobal's intense relief, the boy set course downhill, heading full speed towards the proud town of Burgos, whose extensive olive groves and great flocks of sheep put out to pasture, were watched over by the powerful fortress perched on the hill.

A group of horsemen thundered by, raising a thick cloud of dust, as Domingo approached the town. He overtook a gaggle of women carrying baskets and keeping company with a band of ragged pilgrims on the Camino de Santiago.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry ?" they called out to him as he went by.

"Kiss that lusty wench waiting for you in Burgos for us !"

Aggravated by the jeering, and the pilgrims' laughter, Domingo increased his pace while trying to sketch out a plan. How would he ever get into the Marquis de la Cuerva 's palace ? And would the relic be there ? He sorely wished his head wasn't so painful. It was difficult to think straight. To make things worse, words were relentlessly streaming in, slightly jumbled, but he finally managed to make sense of them – _find the Marquis's palace, ask for employ, you will then have access to the relic._

He sighed with relief and thanked the Holy Virgen, not a little surprised at Her guile, but smiled remembering how crafty old Mencia had been. He guessed that's how women were. But of course, that was the course of action to follow ! Why hadn't he though of it himself ? With a spring in his step he covered the last miles whistling happily, arriving at the town gates a little before noon.

Here there were more people than he had ever seen before, hawkers, servants carrying bundles, customers going in and out of the small shops lining the narrow streets. He pushed on through the throng of people intent on first getting to the cathedral dedicated to the Holy Mother. After a few minutes, dazed by the noise and smells, turning around the corner of a dark street, he suddenly found himself facing the hallowed building and stood awed, rooted to the spot before falling to his knees. His eye slowly crept up the amber limestone spires which rose like screams of pure ecstasy to the pellucid blue skies over the heavily carved portals. The respite was short, however, as the voices resounding in his head brought him out of his reverie and getting up, he crossed the square, heading for two monks wearing thick brown cassocks who had just come out of the cathedral.

"Brothers, brothers, I'm new to the town. Could you be so kind as to tell me where I can find the Marquis de la Cuerva's palace ?"

The two bearded clerics looked him up and down, frowning. "You certainly are new. Haven't you heard ? The Marquis's house has been marked with a black brush. These last days, his wife and three of his men have been taken ill and died," the tall gaunt one said.

"Great calamity has smitten his household. He now fears for himself, and has sent out for the bishop," the second one went on, pudgy hands resting on his potbelly, leaning closer to Domingo as if he wished to smell him, before going on, his tone unctuous, "fortunately our bishop is too conscious of his responsibility to his diocese to risk his person in a house singled out by death."

"And what business have you got there, boy ?" the first one inquired, peering at him suspiciously from under beetling grey eyebrows.

"I thought I would find employment. They say he is a great lord and keeps a large retinue."

"Ordinarily, a country bumpkin like you wouldn't stand a chance, but now, you might well be welcome. Nobody in Burgos will go near the place !"

"I have no fear, for I am under the protection of the Holy Virgen," Domingo answered calmly, "please tell me what street to follow to get there."

"Better you than us," the portly brother said with a chuckle, "let's hope you live long enough to learn that God helps those who help themselves. Which reminds me, you are making us late for lunch."

"In Deum credimum," the gaunt one muttered, sucking in his cheeks and signing himself, "Pulvis et umbra sumus..." he went on, "Take the first street to the right behind the cathedral... and don't forget to put a coin in the donation box !"

Domingo shouted his thanks as he scuttled off, eager to get away from the pair. The old monks at the monastery had been right – big cities corrupt men – and he vowed never to live in one. Behind the cathedral he found a large group of pilgrims heading for the entrance of a brightly painted taverna bearing the sign "Pilgrim Meals" above the door. The aromas issuing from the alms house tickled Domingo's nose, making his stomach growl and he hesitated, fingers fondling the coins in his pocket but then he resolutely turned away and headed towards his goal. The streets here were broader, the houses grander, servants issuing now and then from side doors, some carrying baskets, others loads of laundry but as he approached the Marquis's house, activity decreased and soon he was standing alone before the lofty palace he had been seeking. The façade formed a semicircular arch decorated with the motifs of fantastic creatures and medallions, between polished pilasters on each side. Taking a deep breath, he sounded the brass knocker shaped like a lion's paw against the massive dark doors. A small door cut out in the thick oak panels opened and a swarthy man leaned out, deep set dark eyes peering at Domingo.

"Has the bishop sent you ? Is he coming ?"

"No, nobody has sent me."

"Then why do you disturb this house of mourning ?" The man was already retreating behind the door.

"I'm sorry to come at such a moment, but I'm looking for employment," Domingo hastily said.

"Employment, really ? Do you know that a curse has struck this house ? You are the first person to knock for days."

"I am not afraid of curses, for I know the Holy Virgin is guiding me."

"That's a rash thing to say, boy," the man said stroking his chin, "but you look honest to me, and God knows, we need help between those who have died and those who have run away. So, come in."

Domingo stepped into a large paved patio surrounded on three sides by a grandiose two-tiered gallery upheld by sparkling white columns.

"Wait here !" the man ordered. He returned a few minutes later enjoining Domingo to follow him. "I told my master that you claim the Holy Virgin's protection and he wishes to see you, but don't let astonishment show at what you discover. Since his wife's sudden demise, the Master has not been himself. However, first you need to bathe." And he led Domingo to the kitchen which had none of the bustle one would expect to find in a nobleman's house. Here the man filled a tub with boiling water with the help of a toothless old woman before tempering it with cold water.

"Ever since the curse struck, the Master has gone mad about cleanliness. I can't take you into his presence unless you smell of soap ! Myself I've got to soak every day and it's bound to give me a rash, the skin on my legs is scaly already and beginning to peel off !"

Domingo had never enjoyed such a luxurious wash. Indeed, when living on the monastery's land, he scrubbed off the dirt that crusted his skin and clothes in the stream running along the pasture where he tended the sheep.

Once he had donned the clean set of clothes the old woman had brought him, they climbed a broad marble staircase leading from the corner of the patio up to the first floor and the rows of doors there. The servant, José, stopped before a green baize curtain and pulling it aside, revealed a thick door heavily studded with brass ornaments.

"Remember, do not react to what you see if you want to work here !" José hissed.

They stepped into a spacious room. The two leaded windows opposite the door filtered the sun's light to such an extent that the room was dusky even now at noontide, the gloom barely dispelled by the beeswax and tallow candles set in a wrought iron support hanging from the ceiling. The shadowy walls were covered in tapestries representing armed feats and the dark wooden wainscot panels intricately carved.

José addressed the huge four poster bed ensconced in a recess to the right of the door.

"Master, the boy is here !"

"Is he clean ? Does he smell clean ?" A shaking voice rose from behind the thick brocade duvet.

"Clean as on the day he fell dripping out of his mother's womb !" José confirmed, rolling his eyes.

"Let him come near then..."

The sight Domingo beheld was a pitiful one. The Marquis, who as a soldier and a nobleman had certainly cut a grand figure in the past, was now concealed under a mass of covers, reclining on his thick feather bed. All Domingo could see of the man was a sliver of a thin bearded face and one haunted black eye.

"Boy, you are bold enough to claim to be under the protection of the Holy Virgen," the voice was low and shaky.

"Yes, my lord."

"Then God, in his divine mercy has sent you to me. José !" the man shouted with sudden force, causing Domingo to take a step back, "Leave us !"

The servant departed, not without looking back at the pile of bedclothes on the grand bed.

"Come nearer, boy. Sit thyself on the bed if you dare..." the Marquis's voice was now no more than a hoarse whisper and Domingo leaned over to the man as he sat down.

"I am a sinner, a great sinner and I am paying dearly for my misdeed."

" _He must have the relic, get the relic !_ " Domingo shook his head as the voice resounded in his ears.

"You don't believe me, boy ?" the Marquis inquired noticing his gesture.

"I believe you my lord," Domingo was quick to say, "I have also heard that a great misfortune has befallen your house."

"My wife, my dear wife Isabella was struck down, soon to be followed by my second in arms and my steward. Little by little all are fleeing, abandoning me."

"But you my lord, are still alive."

"I have been spared so far although I should have been smitten first, for it is I the sinner ! But you can help me, boy !"

"How, my lord ?" Domingo fought to conceal his rising excitement.

"I have been greedy. I wanted to ingratiate myself with the King. I know he ardently desires the relic of the Holy Braid and has already made the Monastery of Santa Maria many a handsome offer but those stubborn monks won't listen. So, I had it stolen and now I'm paying for my sin. My man's hand dried up after the deed as he fell to the ground howling in pain."

"Then I do believe the Holy Mother has sent me to your door," Domingo said, "and am sure that if you restore the Sacred Lock to its rightful resting place at the foot of the Virgen's statue in the monastery consecrated to her, she will forgive you."

"Could that be true ?" The Marquis had pushed away the duvet shielding his face and Domingo was taken aback by how haggard the man looked.

"I am certain of it," Domingo answered, unconscious of the Marquis's awed stare when discovering Domingo's eyes shining like precious stones in a face bathed with surreal light. "I know that she has sent me to you now that you have paid for your sins, recovered your senses and done penance."

"Then so be it ! What have I got to lose ? I would never dare give such a dangerous relic to the King !" the Marquis cried, "Let me lead you to it."

The nobleman got out of bed with a new resolve. He was a tall man and his long flowing gown did not mask the powerful musculature of the warrior.

They crossed the room and, lifting a piece of tapestry, the Marquis discovered a little door.

"The relic of the Holy Braid is in that small closet. There is no window there, so take this candle. I will let you go in alone and decide how you want to transport the sacred object back to its rightful owners. I couldn't bear to go near it..."

The candle holder shook in Domingo's hand as he entered the poky room. After a few seconds to let his eyes get used to the gloom, he advanced towards a small wooden chest resting on a carpet-draped table.

" _Take the heart and break the seal_ !" The words rang out loud and clear.

Domingo balked before opening the chest. Harm the relic ? Why would the Holy Mother ask that ?

" _Break the seal and unfold the parchment wrapped around my Son's braid for it needs to be removed !_ "

Domingo had by now lifted the casket's lid. The Golden Heart was nestled there. A joyful vine danced around the fearless blazing sun, just as in his glorious vision. It was almost too good to be true. He pinched his arm to make sure he wasn't dreaming or having yet another of his visions. But no, the pain told him he was awake and the coolness of the heart in his hand when he dared pick it up confirmed it.

" _Break the seal, do it now ! It's where the two halves join !_ "

Without more ado, Domingo's fingers began to run along the heart's seam and bringing the candle closer, he spied a small aperture at the heart's apex. Good fortune had given him along with new clothes a pin to fasten the short woolen scarf bearing the black and white sigil all the Marquis's people wore.

As soon as the pin was inserted into the orifice, the heart sprung open revealing a braid of hair and a whitish piece of paper folded lengthwise.

" _Open it and read it !"_ the voice ordered, " _Open it for the love of the Holy Mother !_ "

Slowly, Domingo unfolded the document and lifting it up, held it near his eyes, seeking to decipher the outlandish signs dancing around on it. He sighed, frowning at the strangeness of the text. Even with more schooling, he wouldn't have managed to make sense of the lines of code.

On Zingu, hundreds of years into the future, there was a great shout. "We've got it ! That's the code !" Jarrat and Tobal exulted as they fixed the symbols on the screen and quickly printed them out, "The boy did it ! Your plan worked Tobal, although I did have my doubts at times..."

" _That parchment has nothing to do inside the reliquary of my son's lock. Some ancient witch slipped in there. Tear it up and take the Holy Braid back to the Monastery !_ " The order resounded loud and clear in Domingo's head.

He did as told and then stood gazing at the softly shining heart. He had been searching for it for so long, now that he had found it, he felt lost, empty.

"Holy Mother, let me see thy blessed face and tell me what to do now !" he pleaded.

"Davor, Davor ! Do it ! Send the boy the picture he craves, any good-looking woman will do the trick !" Tobal urged, taking pity on the boy who was clearly at a loss.

Davor's eyelids fluttered and as his lips curved up into a smile, they watched Domingo, so far away in time and space fall to his knees and still clutching the precious heart, raise his hands towards the radiant image shimmering above him in the small dark room – a beautiful imposing woman wearing pale green robes was staring down at him from a kind of throne. Her bright turquoise eyes set off by the dark locks framing her perfect face were wet with tears, and to Domingo's utter astonishment, the deity's glowing skin was a dark orange.

When the image began to fade the young man clasped the relic to his heart. "Holy Mother, thank you for your message, you have shown me the path ! I will travel the seas to the Americas and bring word of your greatness to the Indios, the red-skinned men who as yet have not been touched by your all-embracing mercy !"

"Great !" Tobal exclaimed, "I'm relieved we managed to give that young lad a purpose in life after having badgered him for years."

"That was an incredibly beautiful picture of Solia Davor projected just now and a very intimate one," Jarrat remarked, "and that boy took her russet skin tone to mean he was to go and Christianize the New World."

"Indeed, that was a stroke of genius on Davor's part. Obviously, living next to Solia has not left him indifferent."

Davor, whom they both had turned to, seemed to be in a daze. He only vaguely remembered what went on during these séances.

"Wait ! Look, it's not over, there he is, there's our lad !" Jarrat had moved so close to the screen he was almost blotting out Tobal's view, mesmerized by what he now saw.

After leaving the closet room with the casket, Domingo's eye had been caught by a flicker on the wall and turning his head to investigate, he had suddenly seen himself in a polished metal mirror. He remained there, stunned, examining his face as did Jarrat and Tobal. The young man was handsome, with a mass of dark curls falling onto his shoulders. His eyes were speckled with gold and his cheeks still retained the rosy tint of youth under his tan.

"This is our first and last glimpse of our emissary ! Oh, look Jarrat ! look at his teeth !" Tobal gasped.

After scanning his face in the mirror, Domingo smiled, lips curling back and there, in plain sight in the upper row of teeth, was the mesiodens, the supernumerary tooth.

Tobal seized Jarrat's shoulder, giving it a good squeeze, "Wouldn't it be quaint if that boy were one of your forebears, Jarrat ? Didn't you once mention having at least two ancestors with such an extra tooth, one having been persecuted for being a witch ? And notice that our young 16th century friend, just like you, is drawn to exploring new worlds. Crossing the oceans in those days must have been quite as daunting as leaving Mother Earth to sail across the void to the stars."

"Who can claim to understand the vagaries of fate, old friend ?" Jarrat answered softly, "But Davor is exhausted. He needs to rest and we have work to do – it is time to set our final moves in motion."

#  Chapter 25  
2220 – Fate

Kyan had gathered his inner circle and he could hardly contain the excitement in his voice when addressing them. "Friends, we Nats are the descendants of the human race and as such we owe it to our ancestors to reach for the stars just as they did so many years ago. But our statutes will always prevent our genius from soaring. Many of us have secretly been working on developing AI way beyond the grade we can find here, hiding from Jarrat and Tobal who as founding fathers of Arcana have made sure that super AI is to be banned, inscribing it in the planet's constitution."

"You are right, why should we limit ourselves ?" Samuel put in, "Wasn't man born to conquer the universe ?"

A lot of heads nodded. There could be unheard of wealth out there in the stars, but to reach them more advanced technology was needed.

" _Save and Share_ is a quaint motto, cooked up in times of despair by men who came face to face with the destruction unbridled development could lead to, but I for one am sick and tired of it. I agree with Samuel. Why should we content ourselves with life on Zingu ? Why should we bow to the nostalgic dream of two old Hyphs who are striving to recreate their vanished world ? We, the sons of Tellurians, want a world of our own ! Let the faint-hearted go on developing Arcana and some selfsame settlement, and let us aim for a grander destiny ! Only there is a hitch, my friends, and it lies over in ArcanArt. Torwald and his cronies are working on AI too. Their aim is a total machine take-over and it goes without saying that this we cannot allow."

"But how can we counter them ?" Fred asked.

"We are in luck. Our resident Hyphs – Jarrat and Cristobal – were left out of the loop as Torwald realized that they would never agree to a robot take-over, being still much too human. But these two are a wary lot and have somehow laid hands on the virus created in SAVU to disactivate the cyborgs. It's time you knew that all Hyphs were created with a back door..."

"But if Jarrat and Cristobal use this virus, they would be destroying themselves !"

"Exactly, that's why they are pussyfooting, wondering if they can't modify the code in some way."

"So what's the plan ?"

Kyan threw his head back and smiled victoriously. "Fortunately for us all, I managed to get a copy of the code and with your accord, I propose to use it. Then we will be rid of those Hyphs once and for all."

"I'm all for doing away with those old fuddy-duddies who are always trawling around ArcaNat," Samuel said, "but what about Torwald's work ? It could save us time !"

"As soon as the Hyphs are disabled, we head to Torwald's secret lab to secure his work. Then I suggest you vote me head of the Council. People are sheep. They will gladly follow us when they realize what we can accomplish !"

Kanell slipped into the room like greased lightning and slid up to Jarrat and Tobal. She was so excited she had to struggle to get a word out.

"Go on, speak, you look like you're about to have kittens !" Jarrat rumbled. Truth be told, they were all on tenterhooks.

"It worked ! As you expected, Kyan copied the code while you pretended to check something on one of the other screens and he's going to use it." Kanell's voice had dropped to a whisper and she hung her head.

"So ? Go on, this is no time to be coy !"

"I just realized that when he uses the code, you will be destroyed too ! You must do something to protect yourselves, quick !" she said, looking at them eagerly.

"You really are a bit of an airhead, Kanell !" Tobal laughed. "Gahr designated us keepers. What did you expect, we have no backdoors and neither do you, Jarrat saw to that..."

Kanell crossed her hands over her heart and gave out a shout of relief. "I could not bear to lose you, Master – nor you, kind Tobal..."

"Thank you, kitten !" Tobal bowed with a smile.

"So, what is he going to do after he uses the code ?" Jarrat asked eagerly.

"Zoom out to Torwald's holy of holies to lay hands on the super computer the Arts are building."

"Good !"

Kanell stared up at Jarrat, trying to read him.

"What do you mean – good ? There isn't a minute to spare. That Nat and his buddies mean to finish developing super AI so they can rule Zingu with all the Hyphs out of the way ! We can't let them do that !"

"We will go after them, fear not, Kanell, but we must first let them implicate themselves fully to better deal with them and their subversion before the Council."

"Ok, you're the boss, I guess," Kanell managed to say, although she looked nonplussed to put it mildly.

"Trust us, Kanell" Tobal put in. "Everything is running according to plan and this whole ugly business should very soon be behind us."

The three men bounced off the feed and hastened towards the main lab buildings in ArcanArt. Around them on the paved paths, automatons were busy pushing carts loaded with metal barrels or ore, carrying boxes, sweeping away dust. Nothing seemed amiss, but when they entered the building from which the Hyphs controlled ArcanArt, the sight that met their eyes was eerie. The Hyphs that had been present in the room when Kyan typed in the code were frozen in the position they had at that moment. Torwald's right arm was pointing toward a screen and Jenna, who was sitting at her keyboard had turned her head towards him. Kyan strode up, checking them out.

"We've won !" he exclaimed to his friends, a crazy light in his eyes. "When we come back, we will program these heaps of metal so they do our bidding, keep Arcana running smoothly while we Nats pave the way for the greater future of mankind !"

"I can't wait to get a look at what Torwald was cooking up in his lab beyond the Sandy Dunes !" Samuel said, "Better do it now before ArcaNat wakes up to discover that their cherished Hyphs are out of order !"

"I totally agree !" Kyan answered leading the way to one of the garages. He backed a sand buggy out as Samuel and Fred climbed in and less than half an hour later they had reached the lava tube housing Torwald's secret lab.

"It's a good thing Kyan that you were privy to Jarrat's little secrets," Samuel remarked. "I sure didn't know Torwald had holed up here."

"Having control over information is what makes a leader," Kyan answered, self-satisfaction plastered all over his face. "That old Hyph spotted capability in me, granting me extra responsibilities for which I am thankful, but little did he realize my real potential."

"Well, yeah, you were always ahead of the pack but sometimes even the cleverest leaders come up short. Look at this door. However are we going to open it ?" Fred was looking up at him quizzically.

They had penetrated into the lava hole and about 20 meters from the entrance had come up against a metal structure taking up the whole width of the tube. They were now standing before a door set in the smooth façade.

"Child's play, oh ye of little faith !" Kyan joked as he began typing on the key pad.

"You hacked the Hyph for the code !" Samuel cried.

"What do you think ?" Kyan grinned and the door clicked open. The two men followed him in as the door closed. They were now in a kind of airlock, stuck between two doors.

"What the hell ?" Fred began.

"Keep you hair on ! The second door opens automatically after ten seconds. It's a security measure."

"Shouldn't there be another key pad ?" Fred asked, frowning, "And what's that noise ?"

"That's the door getting ready to slide open !" Kyan answered, shaking his head, "Don't be such a fusspot, our future is at hand !"

"You knew, didn't you ?" Tobal said taking in the scene before them, "That's why you didn't want anyone else to come with us..."

The two Hyphs had ridden out to the Sandy Dunes and were now contemplating the bodies lying at their feet. The second door had opened, as predicted, but only after having generously doused the men standing in the airlock with a deadly gas.

"Torwald was determined never to let a Nat lay hands on his work, and these gasses are lethal to humans but can't harm us of course," Jarrat agreed, stepping over Samuel's crumpled body, advancing through the last fumes of the poison that their entrance had released towards Kyan, who had managed to crawl to the middle of the lab.

"He really was made of sturdier stuff than most of the Nats," Tobal mused, "too bad all that strength and energy weren't put to a better use."

They shut the men's lids over their glassy eyes and pulled them out of the lab.

"I was wondering why you took the time to reprogram the petrified Hyphs before we left. You know, you can be a very secretive man. I had no idea this was what we would find."

"First, we couldn't let the place run to the ground. The cyborgs can carry out the tasks I have programmed them to do perfectly and nobody will notice the difference, and then, as you are now aware, I didn't want us to get here too early."

"Talk about killing two birds with one stone ! I wouldn't want to be your enemy, Jarrat !"

"That's not likely to happen, old friend. We bat for the same team, our team... the Nats."

Tobal smiled assent, "I'll come back with Kanell to blow up this place along with Torwald's precious computer, and send a team of robots to transport these men back to ArcaNat."

"And then we need to convene the Council and discuss how to reinforce our statutes. I'm just a little worried about Solia. Kyan was her nest companion and at one time she was desperately in love with him."

"I wouldn't worry too much, Jarrat. In a way we all feel sad about these men's deaths, but I believe Solia has matured and moved on... Anyhow, we can't change the past."

On the drive back, Jarrat was lost in thought. They had won this time, as many a time before but the task became more difficult the further away they were from the first years of the colony, and the greater the ever present temptation to kickstart the cycle that had led to the destruction of the Mother planet became. He sighed. Men would be men – individuals struggling to rise above their peers, to dominate all that surrounded them before, drunk on power, they launched out, seeking to establish themselves as rulers of the whole universe. Well, he would just have to go on for as long as he could, and do his utmost to trip history and make it fall on its nose when it attempted to repeat itself.

Suddenly his musings were interrupted by his companion, "I can see that you are waxing philosophical, my friend, so let me ask you about our sister experiment, Sozo. Do you think they are having to face the same crises as us and if so, are they succeeding in curbing the ever recurring appetite of men for domination and expansion ?"

"Wait and see, Cristobal, if some time in the future the Sozo settlers show up, we shall know, but truth be told, I already dread that day for it would mean that the experiment has failed and that we are back where we started."

FINIS
