Read Online The Eternal Enemy by Michael Berlyn - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Michael Berlyn
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didnât they just leave the planet? Or perhaps they had lost the technology enabling them to travel through space? But they had brought him back to life, a task that required an extremely high level of technology.
He turned the crystal over in his hands, and the Haber let go of him. Touch and change it? He wasnât even certain this body had that ability.
Markos couldnât close his eyes to block out the surrounding distractions, so concentrating proved difficult. He looked down, though, staring at his hands and the crystal within them, staring at his mendil skin, at the smooth coolness of the crystal in his hands.
The crystal slowly warmed to his touch. He stared into its depths, clearing his mind of racing thoughts. The more he concentrated on the crystal, the warmer it felt. Suddenly it was warm and alive.
He could feel wild and frenetic movement on its outer surface, as if it were fluid. He shifted into a nonbreathing catabolism. His hands seemed to join the physical structure of the crystal, piercing its top layer.
He panicked for an instant, fearing he would never get his fingers out, fearing a permanent link as they sank deeper and deeper beneath its surface, but he fought it back. One quick glance showed his hands still outside the crystalâs surface no matter what it felt like.
He detected the movement of shared electrons on the outer surface and realized that everything there was as it should have been; molecules were correctly aligned and nothing had been altered. He pressed downward with his mind, letting himself sink deeper, trying to become one with the crystalâs depths.
Everything was suddenly different as he reached a second level. Atoms were displaced, while others pulsated, giving off light as they expanded and contracted. Groups pulsed together, and Markos recognized the colors, the actions, the complex Haber way of describing concepts and images with color.
He listened to the crystal speak.
And then he stopped listening and became one with the voice. His consciousness was gone, replaced by the mind in the crystal that told the story. He was in the body of a Haber, sharing his thoughts, his deeds.
He stared out over an alien landscape.
6
Vegetation writhed in animal agony, whipped into motion by circular gusts of wind. The Haber, Yulakna, perceived a strong sense of lightness to the fluid movement, the entwining thin vines wrapping themselves into knotted confusion about each other and huge roots. The vines seemed to have a life of their own, each with a course in life, a series of patterns they had to follow.
Markos felt the crystal held in Yulaknaâs hand, recording everything that he experienced. He knew Yulakna thought of the planet as âRed tinged with yellow swirled with maroon.â Markos thought of it as Red. The homeworld Habers would see this world and decide how many should go to Red, what kind of positive mutations the planet might create in their race, what changes these mutations might create in their physical and mental states.
To Markos, sharing in what Yulakna saw and experienced, the area being scouted was unappealing. The ground was claylike, a grayish ocher. Creatures as small as insects crawled in and out of tunnels and mounds of discolored earth in the few places the vines didnât grow.
Markos noticed the device attached to the crystal. He made a mental note to ask the Old One what it was afterward.
There were trees nearbyâhuge, massive trees that defined the forceful, erratic gusts of wind that changed direction almost constantly. The upper parts of the trees were devoid of leaves. At the end of each flexible branch hung a small seed pod that dripped a sticky liquid. Their root systems were gnarled and twisted, poking up from beneath the ground only to disappear a few meters along. Vines, whipped in changing directions by the wind, seemed to wrap and unwrap themselves around the roots, causing the overlapping and twisting root
He turned the crystal over in his hands, and the Haber let go of him. Touch and change it? He wasnât even certain this body had that ability.
Markos couldnât close his eyes to block out the surrounding distractions, so concentrating proved difficult. He looked down, though, staring at his hands and the crystal within them, staring at his mendil skin, at the smooth coolness of the crystal in his hands.
The crystal slowly warmed to his touch. He stared into its depths, clearing his mind of racing thoughts. The more he concentrated on the crystal, the warmer it felt. Suddenly it was warm and alive.
He could feel wild and frenetic movement on its outer surface, as if it were fluid. He shifted into a nonbreathing catabolism. His hands seemed to join the physical structure of the crystal, piercing its top layer.
He panicked for an instant, fearing he would never get his fingers out, fearing a permanent link as they sank deeper and deeper beneath its surface, but he fought it back. One quick glance showed his hands still outside the crystalâs surface no matter what it felt like.
He detected the movement of shared electrons on the outer surface and realized that everything there was as it should have been; molecules were correctly aligned and nothing had been altered. He pressed downward with his mind, letting himself sink deeper, trying to become one with the crystalâs depths.
Everything was suddenly different as he reached a second level. Atoms were displaced, while others pulsated, giving off light as they expanded and contracted. Groups pulsed together, and Markos recognized the colors, the actions, the complex Haber way of describing concepts and images with color.
He listened to the crystal speak.
And then he stopped listening and became one with the voice. His consciousness was gone, replaced by the mind in the crystal that told the story. He was in the body of a Haber, sharing his thoughts, his deeds.
He stared out over an alien landscape.
6
Vegetation writhed in animal agony, whipped into motion by circular gusts of wind. The Haber, Yulakna, perceived a strong sense of lightness to the fluid movement, the entwining thin vines wrapping themselves into knotted confusion about each other and huge roots. The vines seemed to have a life of their own, each with a course in life, a series of patterns they had to follow.
Markos felt the crystal held in Yulaknaâs hand, recording everything that he experienced. He knew Yulakna thought of the planet as âRed tinged with yellow swirled with maroon.â Markos thought of it as Red. The homeworld Habers would see this world and decide how many should go to Red, what kind of positive mutations the planet might create in their race, what changes these mutations might create in their physical and mental states.
To Markos, sharing in what Yulakna saw and experienced, the area being scouted was unappealing. The ground was claylike, a grayish ocher. Creatures as small as insects crawled in and out of tunnels and mounds of discolored earth in the few places the vines didnât grow.
Markos noticed the device attached to the crystal. He made a mental note to ask the Old One what it was afterward.
There were trees nearbyâhuge, massive trees that defined the forceful, erratic gusts of wind that changed direction almost constantly. The upper parts of the trees were devoid of leaves. At the end of each flexible branch hung a small seed pod that dripped a sticky liquid. Their root systems were gnarled and twisted, poking up from beneath the ground only to disappear a few meters along. Vines, whipped in changing directions by the wind, seemed to wrap and unwrap themselves around the roots, causing the overlapping and twisting root
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