Chapter 22: The Gates of Empyrea

Dorian had embarked on this trip to Prospero to feel important. His family seemed to live upon an endless reserve of thalers hidden in a well, and the weight of this fortune crushed him. Yes, he’d accepted their gifts—especially the magnificent luxury Adventura, with its white and gold hull and varnished Earth wood interior, named Bonne Fortune, for his eighteenth birthday—but he wanted to breathe, exist, stand out somehow, proving he was nobody’s slave, especially not his family’s.

On Prospero, he’d meet people. He’d earn other thalers—his own. Or perhaps he didn’t really know. Truth be told, he’d been terrified of landing manually and had left it to the onboard LE. Quite the adventurer. The control AIs guided him to Sector 14, semi-military, which hardly reassured him: he was accustomed to the stellar gates of grand hotels, where liveried Androids provided impeccable service and discretion. But this too was adventure. He prayed silently that he wouldn’t return home to Miami in tears; he’d never live it down.

The Adventura’s engine stopped humming. The rear cargo bay opened. Its color certainly stood out, but no citizen of Prospero even glanced up. Adventure, after all, was simple. The door closed behind him. He watched Ravens busy coming and going. The citizens—or the suspended—sweated at drone jobs to earn a few thalers. They’d always been around him, but now he watched as if on safari, even considered doing their work to clear his mind.

On an impulse, he decided to take a platform to the lower level. He experienced déjà vu, seeing an entrance leading toward the astroport’s substructure. Had he dreamt it? Mechanically, he moved toward it, descending unfamiliar, dust-covered metal stairs into a jungle of Kentrochalcum beams thrusting in all directions. He activated a portable drone that buzzed around, casting a little light.

He knew he should leave, but saw Xenos gathered around a lamp in the distance. His heart raced ... but he knew Xenos were only dangerous due to misunderstandings. He gripped the golden Catholic cross around his neck—meaningless to him until now—and whispered: “Xenos are our brothers.”

And there was that girl—seventeen? Fierce eyes, an oversized astroport technician’s tunic, long uncut hair. Ada, with her two Xenos: Alpha and Kukth. She was wary, but took time to talk. Dorian, his heart heavy at seeing a girl his own age living in poverty, brought her and all her worldly belongings—a half-filled bag—aboard the Bonne Fortune. Her eyes widened at the ship’s splendor, and he spoke, nearly dancing, about Earth’s fjords, the giant sea creatures of Iris, Lennox’s crystal cube plains, the titanic Xeno Ruins of Hume, Lucifer, the mystic Kugelblitz, Titus’s cat gardens, Booz’s Golden Moon, and Escalus’s terrestrial waves. She was so innocent, so ignorant of the Universe’s beauty ... he felt himself almost falling in love.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked her.

“If I don’t clock in for work, a Xeno will take my place,” she replied miserably.

He withdrew a thousand thalers from his drone and handed them to her. She frowned suspiciously but pocketed the money.

“Are you buying me?”

“No. I just don’t want to hear you complain about your job. I’m offering you the universe—we can go anywhere, do anything,” he insisted ambiguously.

“OK, Dorian. I want to go to the Temple of the Humble Epic of All Life on Orion Prime, in the Francisco system.”

“That’s pretty precise. Are you some kind of mystic?” he asked, hiding his cross under his tunic. “Why Orion Prime?”

Because they’re in revolution and nobody will blink when I staple your feet to the ground and steal your Adventura, you big moron, she thought. But instead, she replied:

“That’s where I was born. I’ll introduce you to my parents.”

“Like a fairy tale! I love it,” Dorian concluded with a radiant smile. Adventure—the real deal, he thought.

The LE provided them with the location of the Temple on Orion Prime: 400 meters from Nadir Dock, though it added that Orion Prime was currently experiencing confrontations between supporters of the League and the HS.

“These asshole journalists always exaggerate, hoping someone cares about their bullshit,” Ada explained. “Relax, you’re with me.”

The Bonne Fortune swiftly departed, drifting toward Francisco-1 within an hour. Pressing her face against the viewport, Ada admired the fractured planet below, swarming with mining ships.

“You see this, Ada? The universe is magnificent,” Dorian commented, as if he owned the planets suspended in the skies.

The Adventura approached the bloated station, diving toward the closest point on the planet. It requested landing authorization, which never arrived. Yet, the docking gates opened automatically, allowing them to land on a white dock crowded with armed Ravens but devoid of people. A few Xenos and drones carried mysterious cargo, floating eerily. As soon as the Ozy landed and they unclipped their seatbelts, they began to float as well.

“Everything here is creepy, Ada. You know, there are nicer places for a first trip.”

“Stop being a wimp. You do know your way around zero-G, don’t you?”

Truthfully, he didn’t. Zero-G was fun once for laughs, once for sleeping, and once more for making love and bragging about it afterward. But nothing beat gravity, especially when you enjoyed eating without having your meal floating back out. Yet, this was Ada’s childhood, and along with her Xeno companions, she effortlessly reached the exit, letting Dorian, his long blonde hair floating behind him, cling helplessly to her.

With precise movements, she reached the corridor leading to the temple. Passing a side passage, they heard shouting. Glancing in, they saw a group of people clinging to the walls of a circular room, with a woman bound in the center.

“Tribunal of the League of Antioch, fourth day of the revolution. Today we judge Gayla Topaz for having led the HS peacekeeping forces in the Nadir district. For your information, the Wau Order no longer responds to our messages, so we’ll have to deliberate her fate ourselves.”

Dorian whispered feverishly:

“The League has taken back control of Orion Prime; we need to get out of here!”

“Relax, pal, I’m with the League.”

“You’re...?”

“I’m League. Stay cool.”

She tapped him on the stomach, and he drifted backward due to the lack of gravity. She caught him again.

“This is the adventure of your life, millionaire.”

“But I’m HS! Dammit, my parents are the most Earth-centric citizens alive!”

“Then shut up and don’t let the LE identify you.”

And it’ll be a nice break for me.

With another push, they ascended toward the temple district, largely composed of a triple-domed structure—Christian, Muslim, and Jewish—each filled with worshipers fervently praying for peace. Nearby, a large temple belonging to the Dominion roared with victorious shouts. Distant explosions and the sounds of fighting occasionally startled the worshipers, sending them back into even deeper prayer.

Dorian was nearly catatonic, clutching Ada’s oversized tunic like it was life itself. With one push against a wall, she approached a dwelling made of stretched fabric painted with red glyphs.

This was indeed the Temple of the Humble Epic of All Life. Unique books of paper or wood hung like animals, attached by small chains to the floor and walls. At the center floated a large translucent sphere filled with amber liquid, containing a creature resembling a large black tadpole, its body covered in phosphorescent green eyes.

“Um ... go ahead, Ada.”

“Is that your father?” asked Dorian stupidly.

“Wait. I’m Ada, and I come from...”

It was so long ago...

A mechanical voice, alive yet emotional, resonated from within the sphere:

“By the Armor, the Pilgrim, and the Messenger ... you’ve come on behalf of Great Serpent of Calchas-3. We were expecting you!”

“Wow, how do you know?”

“Oh, there are very few of us in the vast universe, and currently we have no human followers. We were all very excited about welcoming you as our disciple. I am Spectre. My people originate from a distant place, a rocky planet devoid of life except a submerged subterranean cave where we emerged and evolved—built upon the ruins of a civilization extinct long before our arrival. Call us the Few. And as for this beautiful suit, wandering AIs from a species advanced like yours but transcended provided it to us. Good shepherds. Tak-tak from Prospero will be disappointed; he was awaiting you. Why did you come here?”

“Who’s Tak-tak? Oh ... the temple on Prospero. It was on the other side of the continent. This was simpler. So, you communicate among yourselves?”

“Nothing extraordinary, thanks to the technological power of the Human Society, which generously provides us asylum. (turning to Dorian) And you, would you also like to join our Order?”