Chapter Nine
Kiel would never forget how it all happened.
While Kiel headed to the Federation Science Building Wing where Hinev’s serum experiment would take place, Kiel remembered the morning he had arrived in the Federation Science Building as a youth. The walls and corridors were thick with memories of former days spent there, friends he hadn’t thought of in years, memories of times that had seemed so difficult, so trying, yet now brought only humor and amusement, and bittersweet nostalgia.
Hinev waited in the private wing where the serum experiments were to take place; Kiel was escorted to the facility by several MSF who talked about the recent outbreak of war on planet Pydifeon and asked him questions about the weather in Firien. Kiel was to be the first of the explorer candidates to receive the serum; Lierva, Gerryls, Kellar, and Celekar had yet to arrive from Firien, and the other candidates were scheduled for the upcoming few tendays.
Kiel talked with Hinev about the particulars of the procedure scheduled for the next day, about how much serum he was to receive, about how long it would likely take for him to recuperate from the serum transfusion. And Hinev had tried to prepare him for the pain, the pain Kiel’s rational mind accepted as part of the process, before Kiel left for his temporary quarters to get some sleep.
That was the last night of natural sleep Fielikor Kiel ever knew in his life, the last time he would ever be able to dream as an ordinary man, and to know himself and himself only, to be the Fielikor Kiel he had known his entire life long.
The next morning, Kiel arrived in Hinev’s new laboratory and allowed himself to be prepared for the serum transfusion; Hinev used a minor narcotic injection to put Kiel to sleep; as Kiel drifted off, he wondered briefly why Hinev was strapping him into the sleeping panel.
Hinev hadn’t prepared Kiel enough for the pain.
Kiel was asleep, peaceful, when suddenly a sensation he had never known hit him.
Electric shock, burning fire crawling through his veins, leeching into every last microunit of his body, a chill like death, a creeping cold, a sensation of suffocation in his every organ, pangs of nausea, stabs of fear, waves of panic, acid stinging, massive crushing, tissues throbbing in agony, the sound of screaming, his very cells screaming in agony as they died, suffocated by light and fire more dangerous than Valeria’s light, his cells freezing into oblivion, and whispers, the whispering of his cells, his new cells, as they listened to his memories, and knew him utterly—he experienced all of these things...
The pain of it had seemed unending, eternally unending, for he remembered nothing at all, saw nothing at all, but the vision of an other-worldly city with beautiful white towers, a place he felt he had seen before, even though somewhere dim he knew this body of his had never been there.
The screaming went on, and finally he heard himself screaming. He heard heartbeats, slow, thumping heartbeats that seemed everything, and he couldn’t escape them; the roar of voices in his ears dulled until he heard only one, a soft singing voice...
Just before he woke up, he thought he saw a memory entering his blood, a memory he had never known, looking down on a someone from above—yes, he was sitting on someone’s shoulders, a person with silver hair that reflected light in prisms of radiant color—
Who was this person? he wondered. Who owned these memories, these invading memories, that belonged not to him but to the cells that had become a part of him, fused with his own blood, with his body, these cells that had spread the burning fire through him, changed him, awakened him, made him feel the pain—
The pain that was over now. He felt nothing but a light bliss in that dream state just before he woke up. Yet who rightfully owned these living blood cells that were now a permanent part of him? He demanded to know, demanded to know where the visions had come from, and why they tore at his heart, why they refused to declare their rightful identity to him, even though they remained within his body, eternally alive but eternally separate from him.
Hinev was there when he awoke; the man’s eyes were haunted in a way they had not been the morning Hinev instructed him to lie on the sleeping panel.
Yet how long ago had that been?
Kiel woke with a sense of discernment, keen-eyed, alert.
Why was it that he was so fully aware of every sensation in his body, every cell of his body, and where he was, how he was interacting with the molecules in the world around him—or rather, how he chose no longer to react to them, but instead felt himself in cooperation with them—perhaps even able to manipulate them by will if he tried—
That was when he saw Hinev standing beside the sleep panel.
Why is he looking at me like that? Kiel wondered.
“Because I’m glad to see you.” Hinev said, laughing.
Glad to see me? Kiel thought, easily moving himself into a sitting position, breaking the indestructible organic bands about his chest as though they were weak elastic.
Kiel blinked in surprise, staring down at the sundered bindings.
“Yes, glad to see you.” Hinev said, catching Kiel’s attention again. “Glad to see you finally awake again.”
“Hinev,” Kiel said quietly, directing a level gaze into his violet eyes. “What happened to me?”
“I think you know.” Hinev said quietly.
“Kellar, Lierva—” Kiel said, in a panic.
“They’re all right.” Hinev reassured him. “You’ll see them soon.”
Kiel felt his thoughts overwhelmed by concern for them, his friends, who had committed themselves to the same kind of torment this horrible experiment had forced upon him—
And then felt them nearby. How, how could he feel their presence? he wondered. Why was it that he could sense them, as though he were seeing them far away?
He pulled back into himself suddenly. No, this wasn’t possible! he told himself.
And then he heard Kellar.
I’m all right, Kiel, I just wish I had been able to talk with you like this when we had that awful Federation economics exam—
Will you stop running at the mouth, Kellar! Lierva interrupted. If I have to hear one more word about your bloody fantasies, I’m going to scream—
Lierva, I didn’t say anything to you, and you didn’t hear anything, but if you’d like to scream—
What? Lierva thought. I thought that was you going on about nonsense—
Maybe, I can’t tell who’s thinking at me. I keep hearing noise in the air, coming from everywhere, do you?
No. I woke up three days ago, and I’m still trying to figure out why things keep moving around in here—
Every time your temper flares? Kellar finished, with a mental laugh.
How did you know?
I’ve been listening to you since you woke up. I’ve been all over the Federation Science Building since I woke up, but Hinev hasn’t taught me how to turn off this thinking antenna I’ve suddenly got or how to channel it and tune into anything. I have to say, though, Lierva, you’ve got some pretty interesting dreams—
Stay out of my head! she warned.
And I was just starting to like it there.
Why, Kellar, Lierva thought, in surprise. I never knew you thought that way about me—
What? I didn’t! I mean I don’t! What did you hear me thinking?!
Whoever is polluting my brain with perverted thoughts better stop it right now, a woman’s voice interrupted.
Who else is out there, listening in on our conversation? Kellar demanded.
It’s me again, Broah, and I’m getting tired of waiting around in here, playing games with a telekinetic trainer. Hinev—are you coming back? Hinev—do you hear me?
I’m thinking I just can’t stand waiting around. A male voice interrupted. I’ve been awake a tenday, and I still haven’t worked up an appetite. Hinev hasn’t brought any food in for me, and my sister keeps talking to me about keln flowers, as though
it’s the most fascinating subject in the world! I think she wandered over into the botany department, mentally speaking.
I heard that, Onracey!
I rather think she’s got good taste, Gerryls added. I’ve always felt plants are an interesting subject—thank you, Wen-eil, for that interesting side-note—
Would someone please stop playing that infernal tune over and over in their heads? Another male voice asked.
Sorry, someone said.
Is that you, In-nekel?
No, it’s me, Derstan.
Hey, do you really think I’d look better with my hair parted down the side, Loussya?
Mindra, pick a number between one and a hundred.
You two aren’t still playing that stupid number-game, are you?
Would everyone just please be quiet? I’m trying to get some sleep! And I’ve been trying for nearly a tenday—
You really think you’re better than me? Well, then, we’ll just have to set up a trivia game sometime and see who wins—
Hey, I don’t have big, ugly feet!
Didn’t Hinev tell us to keep our thoughts to ourselves? someone asked.
Well, it’s not like we can control them yet, is it? Celekar interjected, for the first time.
Jir-end, will you please stop laughing? I haven’t gotten to the punchline yet—
So, that’s what you really thought about me? I thought you hated my guts—
Kellar, I never knew you were so intelligent. Gerryls laughed.
He’s just really good at covering that up, Lierva laughed with him. But now we know his dirty little secret, so he’ll have to stop playing dumb.
Hey, has anyone gone over to the economics department? If you invest your Federation work compensation in Iolar berries this year, you’ll be able to buy a white tower of your own!
Ioka, you won’t believe it, but I just found Kudenka in the other building!
Did you read his mind?
I wish I could, but right now all he’s thinking about is his data, and I can’t dig deeper to anything interesting!
Broah, aren’t you supposed to be paying attention to your telekinetic trainer? Hinev’s voice interrupted, and the voices halted temporarily.
Then a few of the voices came back, talking about more serious things, comparing mental power strengths and weaknesses.
Has anyone managed to get the silica rods to stay suspended?
No, but I’m getting really good at rearranging them when they break!
Hey, Sar-a, I bet you wished you could re-structure that cordan heirloom we had when we were kids before you broke it—
Kiel, can you hear me? Kellar asked, talking over a backdrop of other thoughts.
Yes.
I was beginning to worry about you. Kellar admitted. What? Who was that telling me I talk too much?
Is it just me, or does it seem as though I’m hearing twenty conversations at once? a female voice asked.
Twenty-odd different mental voices responded with a resounding no so loudly that Kiel winced. Then he stopped, thinking—why hadn’t the mental echo wounded him?
Wait a minute—there was no pain, nothing, no pain at all. His body felt nothing like pain, only pleasure if he asked for it—
and no sense of cold, heat, hunger...
He began to panic. Could he summon sensations?
Yes, actually, you can. I’ve managed to give myself a right shiver if I open the window and concentrate long enough, a male voice told him casually.
Who are you? Kiel wondered.
Talden. Talden Faehey.
Kiel stepped to the ground; only a few seconds had passed since he woke up, and his head already seemed to be spinning, even though it wasn’t.
“Take it easy.” Hinev said.
“Nothing’s wrong with me, except—except my thoughts are caught up in a whirlwind.”
“You can turn that off, Kiel,” Hinev said. “Listen to me a moment.”
Kiel turned to Hinev, suddenly back to himself; the room was still, calm, quiet.
“I’m the last one to come out of it.” Kiel suddenly realized, staring at Hinev.
“Yes.” Hinev said.
“How long—”
“Nearly a season.”
“And the others?” Kiel asked, anxious now; as his emotions rose, he heard faint whisperings again on the edge of hearing, whisperings in the air, thoughts, desires, shards of reasoning—
coming from everywhere.
Hinev watched as suddenly Kiel staggered back, assaulted by memory.
In that moment, Fielikor Kiel became aware of all the thoughts around him, beyond the other serum candidates, thoughts from the world beyond; in that moment he aged a million lifetimes.
The second passed.
Kiel looked up at Hinev, and realized why Hinev’s eyes had been full of secrets.
“Now that you’re awake, it’s time to train you all how to use your abilities.” Hinev said.
Kiel nodded, and Hinev led him to a large laboratory, then left to bring in the others, one by one, until there were thirty-one of them.
And they talked and learned from each other, and in the years that followed came to know each other closer than family, even formed mindlinks, and they learned to control their powers, and how to shield their minds from thoughts, and how to survive in a world that was so full of invading memory. And each learned to form a mindlink for the first time, though few of them chose their closest acquaintances, and Hinev himself refused to join them, to allow them to experience his life, for reasons he wouldn’t mention; and since Hinev had learned to control his powers long ago, they found they couldn’t compel him to open his mind to them, not even Lierva, who tried so hard to reach through the barrier of his mind.
Hinev was a master of telepathy, it seemed, and taught them what he knew, how to control it, how to use it, how to hold back, how to read only surface thoughts, and how to read faces, as though he had more than a mere year’s experience in reading thoughts and intentions. And they came to rely on him, to admire him, to depend on him for answers, for advice, even though all realms of thought had been opened to them, for he was the one who had made the metamorphosis possible, who had made it possible for them to see the world around them so clearly, and to know, and know utterly, the entirety of reality as it was in that aeon of time on their world.
Yet none of Hinev’s children ever spoke of the metamorphosis. They left that memory behind them, filled their minds with other memories to drown it out, even though they knew they could never forget it or uproot that long nightmare from their memories.
That was part of the price of their immortality.
Chaper Ten