Shattered Sphere – Entry 2

Skyir’s stomach ached. She had run out of food and drink two days earlier, but she still reached into her satchel instinctively. Three smooth stones rolled through her fingers. She hated them, what they stood for, but she needed them. “Now is not the time, girl. You have come too far to stop now,” she said to herself far more loudly than she had intended. Her Saradacathan follower turned its head to her slowly. Its face remained expressionless as always. Its black eyes communicating nothing of emotion or inquisition. It’s the face they used to serve with and now the face they will kill with. Skyir looked back at it. “You do know that you are forbidden from eating me, right? Because you are,” she said, believing the deceleration were binding… almost. The Saradacathan said nothing. It merely turned its head forward again as they continued to walk. By her best estimation, they would reach the Aspen Plains by next nightfall. They would have to. Another day in this wasteland, without water, would be too risky, even for her. Even for it.

The stones were warmer than she had ever felt them be before. They were not hot, not yet, but it was still making her uneasy. Her favored hand reflexively made its way to the hilt of her blade. The contrast of its frigid metal grip met strongly against the warmth of the stones. “Typical, Sky. Always clutching opposing extremes. Learn your lesson already,” she murmured to herself. The Saradacathan (or Tad, as she had been calling it) huffed. Was it laughing at her or just blowing another sand fly out of its undersized nostrils. She was certain she knew the answer… almost. Still, that didn’t stop her from gripping the blade and the stones more tightly. At least she still had them.

Shattered Sphere

The Saradacathan are perhaps the most vicious of all Ukathi – their small frames deceptively unassuming and their permanently affixed vacant expressions indicating cognitive absence, concealing their uncanny cunning nature. Even in death they remain completely silent, lips sealed flatly and eyes wide open, they show now fear or worry or joy or anger. Most people believe them to be mute as the they have no known language, though rumors have always lingered that they can in fact speak. They are emotionless killers, perfect predators. Even a lone Saradacathan has been known to overtake an entire squad of Lukashi’L Elites, leaving a pile of tongue-less corpses to rot as a monument of victory. Encountering a group Saradacathan on disputed territory is a misfortune few live to regret. No’ten knew this better than anyone. Orphaned in his eleventh year during the winter pilgrimage through the Aspen Plains, he had never forgotten the horror of Saradacathan brutality. He survived then and he survived now. His hands trembled as he lowered his black saber, silver blood running down it’s side, bending around the strange glyphs beveling along the dull end of the blade.

Three Saradacathan bodies laid twisted before him – motionless, lifeless, ever expressionless with large seeping gashes across their necks, spilling silver blood on the snow covered earth. An illumines vapor still poured from his eyes, his skin still rigid and hard as if were a thin leather pulled tightly over chainmail. No’ten’s mind raced faster than his pounding heart. Was he the foretold pestilence of the Ukathi prophecy or the peace bringer of Lukashi’L folklore or did either of these even matter anymore? The world was ending in six days anyway. The black saber had already cleaned itself of the metallic Saradacathan blood. No’ten’s boots would not clean so easily. He sheathed his blade, and turned his back to the fallen opponents, facing eastward towards the Ukathi towers. “Osar’eli, if you still circle this sphere, tell Le’nalia I love her. Tell her I’m sorry.”

The Empty – Entry 5

“You came back,” Anthony said in disbelief. His throat tighten as the emotions ignited inside him. It had been a year since his visit to the edge. Jasmin wasn’t scheduled to return until next Fall. They had spoken over hololink two days earlier and she hadn’t mentioned a trip home. She looked perfect, maybe a little older, her hair was short now and red, that natural red she had always covered up. Jasmin didn’t speak, her knees felt like they would buckle. She looked around, confused. She was back at campus, in the lawn south of the library. The entire sky was blue, the Empty was no where in sight. “Jasmin,” Anthony asked, snapping her gaze back on him. She took several breaths and managed to whisper, “Toner?”

They rushed to embrace. She pressed her cheek to his chest, clutching his back. His arms surrounded her as he kissed her forehead. Time felt like it had stopped. Neither let go. Jasmin looked up into Anthony’s eyes. “I love you! I’ve always loved you. I wish I had told you before you died!” Anthony laughed, “I love you too, Jazz! And I don’t plan on dying anytime soon.” Her eyes widened. She pulled back, placing her hands on his arms, “It’s ok, I know this is just…” A rock hit the ground a meter away and tumbled towards their feet. She glanced at it just as it came to rest, recognizing the black shine and thin silvery veins running through it. Hadn’t she thrown this rock into The Empty? She blinked.

Jasmin was in bed. Her chest still felt warm from Anthony’s embrace. Dog was sitting in the doorway, ears pulled back, the tip of his tail wagging slightly. Her eyes filled with tears.

The Empty – Entry 4

Toner… Anthony… he’s the reason I keep this ridiculous journal. Sentimental nonsense, I know. But since the 8th advance the whole world has gone senseless, why rock the boat.

It was the first day of the semester, my final year and his first year. I saw him from across the campus field. He was busy reviewing notes on his holo. His path was a collisions course, so I just stood there until he nearly walked in to me. His holo display warped around my face. The photons gave a slight tingling as they bounced off my cheeks. He gasped. In fairness I suppose a cute girl is the last thing one would expect to have erupt from the “The Political History of the North American Super Nation”. He took the cue pretty well. We had coffee that evening.

Toner had a full scholarship for journalism. School was really just a formality for him, something his parents wanted him to do. He didn’t mind; his first short story was published when he was 8. He already had 3 books on the top 50 list and he was regularly featured in several syndicated monthly publications. He could have gone anywhere and done anything. Instead he sipped lattes with me at Ariah’s Cafe every afternoon that year. That’s how I ended up journaling. He gave a convincing argument for why I should. And by “convincing argument” I mean those forest-in-the-fall hued eyes had a way of making you say yes just by looking at them. I tried not to look at them often.

Immediately after graduation SphereSafe Logistics recruited me for their Special Robotics division and sent me to the edge of the Empty. Toner came to visit befor his 2nd year started. We played it safe as usual. Coy. Dodging the overtones. It was a safe harmony. I never saw him in person after that trip. The 7th advance made sure of that. We never reached a crescendo.

– Jasmin Tzotsof, 8th advance survivor

The Empty – Entry 3

5 minutes. I feel the heat wave they’ve told us about, which they immediately follow with, “if you feel it, run! You’re in the path of the advance!” Their description is wrong. It’s not so much a wave as a pulsation, like the atoms in and around me are briefly igniting, then… not. It’s weird standing this close to the event horizon, not freezing, not even the slightest bit cold. Before the Empty swallows you into its frozen entropic vortex, it microwaves you on the warm setting. How quaint.

I bet Stephen Hawking would have loved to experience this… of course not until he had finished with the “I told you so’s”. The geniuses at CERN3 knew better, but 100bn GeV had already been reached… why not 117bn GeV? What could go wrong? Smooth move McFly, you hit 88mph! 20th century historians can appreciate that. Anyway, Hawking was actually pretty close on this one… only the expansion was much slower, with no gravity, and geosynchronously linked… minor details.

Funny. I figured my last minutes would be filled with epiphany, documenting the wonders of the Empty at the moment of advance… but here I am ranting, again.

2 Minutes.

If I’m going to postpone the inevitable, now’s the time. Dog is out of range. I moved my belongings yesterday. My house is a goner for sure, but the farm will survive (this time). Ugh! Mortality. You can’t live with it. See what I did there?

1 minute.

300 meters.

Shit!

Run!