It came again without his bidding. He had lost track now of how many times it had been. Luke lurched quickly from his recliner and stuck his head into his room's large waste receptacle. His unrepentant stomach once again convulsed to discharge a lunch that had long since departed. His mind reeled and his sides ached deep within his torso, as his body writhed in spasms of fruitless dry heaves.
It had been more than two weeks since Jackov had dragged Luke back into space, headed God knows where. This was the first time in over 30 years that Luke had been off a planet, and his body had seriously forgotten what it was like. Even with artificial gravity on the ship, adapting to the change in environment seemed impossible. Occasionally, he would be OK for a day or two, then the spasms would return and he would spend long hours repeatedly making unwelcome love to that damned receptacle. Luke decided he really hated space travel.
Luke pulled his head out and looked over at Pf, one of Sledge's officers, sitting impassively against the far wall. Pf was part of the elite First Djin Division, which now accompanied Jackov and Sledge on this ship, part of a small flotilla commanded by another Djin officer named Straila. These Djin never seemed to use rank, Luke had observed; but somehow they always seemed to know their place among one another. He thought that very odd. Anyway, Pf had been assigned to Luke as an escort, or valet, or prison guard, or something. Luke wasn't sure which. Earlier Pf had led one of the teams involved in defending Jackov's Belli Obelisk against the Griffon attack. At one level Luke appreciated what Pf had done then-after all, they had won and he was still alive. But now Pf just sat there, his smooth, greenish face never changing expression, never speaking. From time to time he did leave to bring back food, which, once swallowed by Luke, most often went right down the receptacle. Luke was aware he had lost quite a bit of weight.
Luke wiped his messy mouth with his sleeve, and splashed some water on his face. He slumped back onto his recliner, and stared at Pf, the now familiar black arrow embroidered on his jerkin.
"Oh, shut up," Luke said to his silent companion.
After a moment Luke's head cleared a bit and he decided he'd had enough of just lying around. He needed to walk, try his legs. It would be another 20 minutes or so before he'd need to revisit the receptacle anyway. Perhaps a few minutes stretch would do him good.
He got up, a little unsteadily, then headed purposely toward the door. Pf, still not saying a word, rose at the same time and followed him into the corridor. There was a cool artificial breeze blowing gently down the corridor, a feature Jackov had said he liked; and it refreshed Luke a bit, clearing his head. He paused for a moment, then decided to head for Jackov's quarters, a short distance away.
Luke was surprised to find the door to Jackov's cabin unlocked and slightly open when he arrived. Unthinking, he just entered without knocking or other preamble. Pf entered, too, just a few steps behind him.
Jackov stood in the middle of the room, eyes closed, with his left arm outstretched and his crystal resting on his palm. He did not seem to hear them enter. The crystal seemed smaller than Luke remembered, perhaps a half-meter in diameter. It pulsed gently, emitting in rhythmic surges its now-familiar pale blue light. The room was still, perfectly quiet.
Suddenly, Luke jerked at a loud crash behind him. He turned to see that Pf had smashed his fist into the wall, creating a significant dent in the metal.
Luke was totally surprised. "What the hell? Why did he do that?" he asked.
"Actually, I did it," Jackov responded, now eyes open and looking at Luke.
"Uh."
"ZME. I made the choice for him. Seems this crystal is a remarkable tool."
"ZME?"
Instead of answering Luke, Jackov spoke directly to Pf in their strange language: "That will be all, Ph."
Pf's response was brief and unemotional: "Sir." He bowed slightly and stepped from the room. As he did so, Luke noticed his knuckles were bleeding, but he had not reacted to that or to any apparent sense of pain.
Jackov turned back to Luke. "'ZME' means Zyglongian Multiplier Effect," he finally answered. "It was thought to be only hypothetical, only a mathematical possibility. The notion was first conceived by an S.P.Q.R. mathematician named Hugo Zyglongus in the 12th or 13th centuries. I forget precisely which. Anyway, remember that 11th dimension I told you about?" Luke nodded. "According to his calculations, and under certain conditions, our minds alone supposedly can reach through this 11th dimension into essentially any other thought regime, theoretically anywhere in the Universe. Nobody believed such a thing could be real, of course; but ... looks like it actually works. When I use this crystal, it acts like an amplifier; and I can almost see your mind, all your memories ..."
"Shit," Luke blurted, confused.
"Don't worry. You are not as interesting as you think."
"Shit," Luke blurted again, now with considerable feeling. He was not sure whether to feel good or bad about this.
"And I could see into Pf's mind, too. Enough so I could choose for him to strike the wall." Jackov looked at the crystal. "Quite amazing."
"Wow," Luke murmured. "So, what are we going to do with this new toy?"
"Not quite a toy, Luke. We face a new existential reality with these crystals. But, like any type of perception, we must focus. And know what to look for. Like seeing ahead, you cannot at the same time see behind. That's how I missed H. T.'s destruction."
"What? Destruction?" Things for Luke seemed always to happen way too fast around Jackov.
"An explosion on his ship, although the Universe was only damaged, not destroyed like with Magnus and his flagship. Also probably an Illian assassin. There were other attempts on Gregory and Argyle, too; although they did not succeed. But this news of H. T. ... is not good. Looks like he's ... gone." Jackov looked away. He was as somber in that moment as Luke had ever seen him.
"The Griffons again." Luke said, half to himself. He didn't particularly like H. T. Thought he was just a giant asshole. But he liked the idea that H. T. was on their side. His absence suddenly made Luke very nervous again.
Jackov looked up and continued: "Yes. And they destroyed Belli."
"Destroyed Belli??" Luke almost shouted. He flashed on the Obelisk he served. His home. Phredy's Pub. "But I thought the Djin were protecting Belli!"
"Oh, they were. And the Griffons destroyed Belli alright, at least what they thought was Belli. Remember that gas giant in the fifth orbit with four large moons?"
"Yes," Luke said, still thinking of Phredy's Pub, noisy, obnoxious, but now gone.
"It now has three. And another rocky ring. The Djin used their telepathy skills to redirect the strike. It worked perfectly. The real Belli is still there. The Griffons were fooled, and they left believing they had done their worst." Jackov smiled.
Though lurched now back to relief, Luke was not responding well to these surprises. "But they're not entirely gone, are they?"
"No." Jackov turned somber again and looked at the crystal. It glowed in his hand, mesmerizing in its blue, fluctuating beauty. "Before we lost H. T. ..." Jackov paused. The emotion Jackov seemed to be feeling fascinated Luke. "Before we lost H. T.," Jackov repeated, "he was able to send me enough information to know how to use this crystal." Jackov took a deep breath. "One must be an adept, of course ..."
"Of course." A small belch punctuated Luke's concurrence.
"But when your thoughts are in tune with its frequency, you can extend your thinking and vision, even your presence, virtually anywhere. That's how you can force choices into another person's mind. Any sentient being, actually. An analogy would be hydraulics: putting pressure on one end of a fluid in a line replicates the same pressure on the other end, regardless of the distance. In a similar way, through this crystal the 11th dimension allows you to reach and penetrate any recipient mind, see their memory as though it were your own, share their current perceptions, even make choices for them. Like I said, it's incredible."
"And this is what the Griffons have also?"
"Yes, it would seem so. They must have at least one crystal, and it is probably how they control their assassins. It works with anyone, but works best with others who also have some level of adept capabilities. The Illians as a species have a primitive, immature cloid capacity with some nascent adept possibilities. They're like children, and do not fully realize their potential. Also like children, they are easy to manipulate if you know how. So, that may be why they are implicated in all these assassination attempts." Jackov paused and took another deep breath, clearly still thinking of H. T.
Luke was puzzled. "But as nasty as they are," he observed, "the Griffons can try only an assassination or two, even with this presumed reach. It seems that this-what did you call it?-'new existential reality' should be controllable and not the threat you seem to say." Luke made an air-quotes motion with his fingers, arguing to convince himself as much as Jackov.
"A fair point, but it's more than that. One on one you are probably right. But we know there are five key crystals. Yes? If you have more than one-in other words, when the crystals come together-they have a multiplier effect on a logarithmic scale, increasing their power and reach by a factor of a hundred or more with each added crystal. By the time you get all five crystals together you ..."
"You can control millions with one command," Luke finished the thought. He shuddered at the implication.
"Yes. So, we have to act, especially since we seem to be losing our friends even before we get started. I have heard from Magnus' daughter. We contacted each other after Magnus was killed. That's where we're headed now: to meet her. Perhaps she can pick up from where her father left off. She also is part Shrike, which may be helpful. In any case, it is far past time for us-the Demon Princes and their heirs-to join forces."
Luke wasn't quite listening, thinking still of someone else controlling his mind. "I don't like the idea of anyone else making choices for me," he reflected.
"Not just choices, Luke. In the wrong hands this targets not just what we do, but who we are. If the Griffons get a hold of just three of these crystals, they can easily find the other two, including this one, and take them all. Then they will be unstoppable, and we will no longer be our own. We will no longer be," he paused for the right word, "human. That is what is at stake."
They both were silent for a moment. Luke looked at Jackov, then at the crystal, then felt the rumbles beginning to return deep in his gut.
Jackov held the crystal out at arms length again and studied it. "Amazing," he said, almost to himself. Thinking again of its existential implications, he added almost whimsically, "'To be or not to be.'"
"What?" Luke asked. "Is that supposed to be a question?" He felt the first signaling cramp in his gut.
"Oh, no," Jackov replied, still staring at the crystal. "It is the answer."
A burst of air from his wretched interior inflated Luke's cheeks and his eyes went glassy. He kept his mouth closed, but knew he had only one option. He turned sharply and left the room. Pf was still in the corridor, and fell in right behind as Luke headed quickly back to his quarters. Jackov watched him go, smiling and shaking his head.
I think I can fix that my friend, Jackov thought to himself. He closed his eyes and focused through the crystal. Reaching into Luke's mind, he made a few tweaks to its balance centers. As Luke reached his quarters, he found his stomach was no longer as upset as he had thought. Expecting dry heaves, he found there were none. He splashed some water onto his face, then collapsed onto his recliner and fell into the soundest sleep he had enjoyed in weeks. Pf settled into his usual chair, rubbed his knuckles, and watched.
To be continued.
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