Chapter 39
Jim Vassilakos
They furnished the AI with a physical body? The Countess was up to something. Either that or Agidda was behind it.
“Acknowledge Imperial Palace and permit transit. I assume they sent a vehicle identifier. Route them to my location.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
I looked over to Masa. “Know anything about an autonomous vehicle for the Olav AI?”
He shook his head. “I assumed they’d just bring a holo-projector.”
“Apparently not.”
No doubt, the Olav robot was in that aircar that just violated the interdiction zone. If I’d given Major Fa’Linto permission to engage, I’d have been screwed. Perhaps it was merely my suspicious mind, but the whole thing felt like someone had made a very big play for some kind of embarrassing photo-op: the twisted remains of an aircar with the figure of Olav Plankwell scorched by plasma fire.
The message to the public would have been crystal clear. This newly minted Imperial captain who’d declared martial law had a heavy trigger finger. I’d have been painted as being out of control, and the Countess would have likely extended an invitation to Admiral Karneticky to arrest and detain this rogue captain for crimes against the Imperium. Sadly for whoever was behind this and to the frustration of my Marines, they underestimated me. I wasn’t about to put holes in the city skyline, regardless of my invocation of Section 678.
But who exactly was behind this?
I opened my mental curtain as wide as I could, but no answers came, so I looked toward Abbonette. My Intel lieutenant wasn’t doing much in the way of continuing my training. It was time to prod the beast.
«Lieutenant, how strong am I that I caught some thoughts from the other end of a comm line?»
«Sir, this psi-enhancer is no joke. I swear I saw a ghost.»
«Shake it off. We’re on the clock!»
«Sir, there might still be time — if we can do it quickly, before the psi-enhancer wears off — to re-initiate our durable psychic link.»
«If I have to kiss you again, you better teach me how to do memory wipes next.»
«However distasteful this might be for you, sir, trust me when I say it is no less distasteful for me.»
I recalled how it felt getting dream-molested. If she’d truly found it so distasteful, she’d hid it rather well.
«Do what you need to do, and if we need to be in physical contact, do me a favor and look like you’re about to be sick. I’ll need a reason to care about you that looks at least somewhat rational to the rest of the people in the room.»
“I feel woozy,” Josefeen announced, staggering toward me like a drunk woman with an overfull bladder. “I do believe I’m going to faint.” «If you don’t catch me, I’ll hurt you in ways you can’t even imagine!» Then she fake-fainted in my general direction.
It was all very dramatic and some of the worst acting I’d ever had the misfortune to witness. Nonetheless, I dashed forward, catching my falling lieutenant. Would she carry out her threat if I’d refused? I was tempted to let her drop just to find out, but my reflexes kicked in. I was apparently too finely-honed a man to let a woman fall, and so her bathykolpian physique once more filled my arms, and I slowly laid her down on the floor, putting my face close to hers, as though to check if she was breathing. With her eyes closed, we couldn’t communicate telepathically, so I opened one of her eyelids with my thumb.
«You better not puke on me,» I warned. «This is a new uniform, and it already has holes in it.»
«Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. And then open wide like before.»
Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation? She wanted me to kiss her again? While pretending to do mouth-to-mouth?
Masa grimaced, casting his stern gaze upon the Canon. “You killed her!”
“No! No!” Forklinbrass suddenly looked like he might need an adult diaper. “Does she have a weak heart? Let me hit her with something. Where’s my kit?”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll save her.” Oh, the things I do for the Emperor.
Situating my body so as to screen most of what was going on, I leaned down and kissed her, firmly and with intention, and though I assiduously avoided any appearance of impropriety, a memory from my night with Kaz flashed to mind, a memory of us coupling.
«No!» Josefeen’s psychic voice, green and fury-tinged, shot through my brain.
Mindful of the potential vengeance of Intelligence officers, I promptly banished the image.
«Yes, yes. Sorry. I’m just a man, after all.»
«See into me, Gus, and let me see into you.»
“There it is,” the Canon said. “This should do the trick.”
“No need,” I said. “Thanks be to Cleon, she’s still breathing.” Which meant she wouldn’t need anymore mouth-to-mouth. “Let me just make sure.”
I went in again, kissing her once more but this time trying to open my mind to hers. We’d managed it before. Where were those psychic tendrils?
“Mmm…”
Her lips, pressed upon mine, parted slightly, and in came her tongue. Her tongue? I thought she said no tongue!
“That doesn’t look like any CPR I ever saw,” Masa mumbled.
“Holy shmoley,” the Canon agreed. I could picture them both staring, bug-eyed.
This wasn’t going to work. Either I had to try a lot harder and with an audience, which wasn’t going to help, or we needed to give up.
Then it hit me. The psionic globe. If that couldn’t give me a boost, nothing would. Where was that damn diplomatic case? I spotted it resting on the floor where I’d absentmindedly set it down to fiddle with my wristcom.
“Give me that,” I said.
Masa fetched it and handed it over.
“Sirs, do you mind giving the lieutenant a little privacy?” I dragged every last scrap of authority I had into that request. “She has a condition.”
“What sort of condition,” Masa asked, backing up a step.
“It’s classified.”
“Classified?”
“I mean, it’s confidential. Sorry, I got a briefing on it but never really expected it to, you know, happen.”
“Come, Captain Masa,” the Canon said, heading back to the bar. “I’ll make you some coffee, and we can give these two… ah… a little space.”
I was afraid he was going to say lovebirds or something equally ridiculous, but he’d stopped himself, and Captain Masa, ever the gentleman, followed. That only left Corporal Hoskins.
“Sir, would you like me to get her a medic?”
“No, I’ve got this. Keep watch down that corridor, and let me know if someone is coming.”
“Yessir.”
The electronic lock beneath the handle consisted of four buttons marked 1 through 4 with a little LCD display. Lacking the code, I leaned into Josefeen and again thumbed open one of her eyelids.
«What’s the code for the globe?» I asked.
«The psi orb? In the diplomatic case?»
«Yeah.»
«One two three four.»
«One two three four? What kind of code is that?»
«One I can remember.»
«I cannot believe you used a sequential code.»
«It worked, didn’t it?»
I let go of her eyelid, entered the code, and opened the case. As promised, the little black pouch rested within like some miniature slumbering dragon, one that I was about to reawaken.
Here goes nothing.
Bracing myself, I trepidatiously slipped my hand inside the pouch but felt nothing. Is it even in here?
Conrad Rader
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Jim Vassilakos
Bracing myself, I trepidatiously slipped my hand inside the pouch but felt nothing.
Is it even in here?
My fingers searched frantically, and as I pulled out my hand it came out alongside my wrist and began floating away on a fairly rapid trajectory.
(The orb, Gus will now remember, is nearly weightless, and it’s floating away from him where anyone would be able to see it if they were to just turn their head to look. However, it’s still just barely within arm’s reach if he leans hard to the left, but bear in mind this thing is really slippery as evidenced by what just happened, so there’s no guarantee he’ll be able to grab hold of it with one hand. OOC: This was caused by an unlucky roll in combination with the fact that this item is intrinsically difficult to physically control. It’s more like a persistent soap bubble than a rubber ball. Hence, he might have had his hand on it inside the bag but just not realized it. Sorry for the misdirection, but I wanted to see if he'd take any special precautions as he removed his hand from the bag.)
Conrad Rader
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Jim Vassilakos
Bracing myself, I trepidatiously slipped my hand inside the pouch but felt nothing.
Is it even in here?
My fingers searched frantically.
No! The pouch was empty. That meant the Admiral had it.
As I pulled my hand free, it came out alongside my wrist and began rapidly floating off to the left.
Oh no!!
I turned toward it, knee-bumping the side of Josafeen’s head in my haste. Her muted “Ow” made me wince, and I almost fell over. Having missed the chance to dive for it, I got up and attempted to corral the escaped item. The problem was this thing was really slippery as evidenced by what just happened, so there was no guarantee I’d even be able to grab hold of it with one hand. It was more like a persistent soap bubble than a rubber ball. That must be why I didn’t feel it inside the bag. I might have had my hand on it and not even known it. And now, thanks to my abject stupidity, it was floating out where anyone could see it if they were to merely turn their head.
The thought made my heart skip, my mouth suddenly dry with fear, as if I were caught with this damn thing there would likely be consequences. Either I’d have to bullshit masterfully — beyond masterfully — or my career would be over. I’d lose my captaincy and probably my freedom. I’d lose everything, I realized, as I came within arm’s reach. And then…
Holy mother of Cleon!
It must have hit an invisible air current from one of the vents. Either that or it just changed course of its own will, as it was now headed toward the liquor cabinet, where the Canon and Captain Masa were busy discussing something.
(Work Masa seeing it into your response as well as your response to that fact when his eyes go wide as fuck and he thinks to himself, “What the…”; you can fill in the rest with yet another Cleonism, if you like.)
Conrad Rader
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Jim Vassilakos
Masa was angled toward me a bit more than the Canon, and so he was the first to notice my approach in his peripheral vision.
“Do you see that?” I pointed at the orb. “Don’t touch it!”
His mouth fell open as his gaze locked on the psionic orb, and the Canon turned as well.
Time to dance like my ass was on fire. Hiding it was now out of the question. My best bet was to misdirect.
“Why’s there a soap bubble in here?” Masa asked.
“It’s a metaphor for life’s beauty,” Forklinbrass said, “as well as its impermanence and fragility.”
“Ah, yes.” Masa nodded. “A brilliant idea, Captain. I wish I’d thought of bringing a bubble machine. Although, I don’t know if it’s really appropriate for this sort of service.”
(Feel free to respond.)
The orb changed course again, this time heading toward the corridor that went outside along the edge of the stage.
Oh no you don’t. But then I stopped. Last time I’d held it, it had, in effect, stung me.
I darted back to Josefeen and grabbed its pouch, turning it inside out over my hand.
«What in Cleon’s name are you doing?» her voice rang in my head as our eyes momentarily locked.
«Improvising!» (Or you can change this, if you like. Or expand on it.)
Then I was off to the races. As soon as I caught up to the damn thing, I tried to nab it, but it got caught by another air current and did a sharp reversal, heading back toward the green room. I spun around, fully intent upon continuing the chase, but Josefeen was now standing at the green room’s entrance, effectively blocking its path. It floated between us, zigzagging back and forth as though trying to decide which way to go.
«Reach out to it with your mind.»
Conrad Rader
Masa was angled toward me a bit more than the Canon, and so he was the first to notice my approach in his peripheral vision.
“Do you see that?” I pointed at the orb. “Don’t touch it!”
His mouth fell open as his gaze locked on the psionic orb, and the Canon turned as well.
Time to dance like my ass was on fire. Hiding it was now out of the question. My best bet was to misdirect.
“Why’s there a soap bubble in here?” Masa asked.
“It’s a metaphor for life’s beauty,” Forklinbrass said, “as well as its impermanence and fragility.”
“Ah, yes.” Masa nodded. “A brilliant idea, Captain. I wish I’d thought of bringing a bubble machine. Although, I don’t know if it’s really appropriate for this sort of service.”
[[I just looked at Masa, wondering what he was really thinking, but being a little too busy to send out the psychic tnedrils]]
The orb changed course again, this time heading toward the corridor that went outside along the edge of the stage.
Oh no you don’t. But then I stopped. Last time I’d held it, it had, in effect, stung me.
I darted back to Josefeen and grabbed its pouch, turning it inside out over my hand.
«What in Cleon’s name are you doing?» her voice rang in my head as our eyes momentarily locked.
«Improvising!» (Or you can change this, if you like. Or expand on it.)
Then I was off to the races. As soon as I caught up to the damn thing, I tried to nab it, but it got caught by another air current and did a sharp reversal, heading back toward the green room. I spun around, fully intent upon continuing the chase, but Josefeen was now standing at the green room’s entrance, effectively blocking its path. It floated between us, zigzagging back and forth as though trying to decide which way to go.
«Reach out to it with your mind.»
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Jim Vassilakos
Jim Vassilakos
Conrad Rader
Let me know if you're having trouble with this request. I only need a few sentences, something to help set the scene. I'm not looking for anything beyond a short paragraph.By the way, I've noticed you've only been responding about once a week. If life's too busy or you've lost interest in the pbem, please let me know. I don't want to drag you through this if it's gotten to be too much.
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Jim Vassilakos
(No worries. I've been fairly busy as well. But when we go for a week between emails, I tend to lose track of what's going on. And losing track, I think, is possibly the precursor, at least for me, of losing interest. So I'd suggest we try to get back to each other within three days, and if that's not doable, to at least say "Hey, I'm busy" on the third day, if you think that's reasonable. Also, in other news, I'm thinking of splitting Chapter 34 in half, which would end up renumbering all the subsequent chapters. So this might end up being Chapter 40. Anyway, just thought I'd let you know. And sorry if this is getting too weird. I'm curious to see what happens next.)
As soon as I caught up to the damn thing, I reached out to grab it, but it must have gotten caught in another air current, and it did a sharp reversal, heading back toward the green room. I spun around, fully intent upon doing whatever was necessary to catch it, but Josefeen was now standing at the room’s entrance, effectively blocking its path. It floated between us, zigzagging back and forth as though caught in a vortex of shifting airflows.
«Reach out to it with your mind.» Josefeen’s voice reverberated along the inner walls of my skull.
With my mind? «Easier said than done.»
«It thinks we’re playing a game. Have it come to you.»
It thinks I’m playing a game? «It thinks?!»
It was zigzagging back and forth because it was trying to decide which way to go. Because it thought this was some sort of game.
Putting out my hand, open-palmed, I focused on my memory of holding it. That had happened twice, once in my quarters aboard the Jaqueline, but there was also another time long ago. I was about two years old, a chubby, little tantrum-thrower, and I was snooping around in this strange house of this woman into whose care I’d been unceremoniously bestowed.
Fortunately, it didn’t take her too long to figure out two-year-olds were easily bribed, and so the gifts began. Needless to say, I was in my glory. But, of course, too much is never enough, and so I began exploring her home as she talked to someone on her phone. Even at two, I already knew what phones were, and more to the point, I knew people bigger than myself were easily distracted by them, so I took that as my cue, as there was one room in particular she didn’t like me going into.
Indeed, the door wouldn’t open now when I approached. That confirmed I wasn’t supposed to go in. She must have done something to make it stop working, which, of course, made me angry.
“Gah!” I kicked the door, imaging in my fevered optimism that it would explode off its hinges. Instead, it merely opened, but that was good enough for me.
I walked in — stumbled might be more accurate, considering I was two — and there, in front of me, was a particular cabinet to which I felt inexplicably drawn. I went to it. There was no handle. I slammed my fist. “Gah!”
It opened.
A little bag sat inside. It was tied by a drawstring.
Working out the mechanics of drawstrings was apparently not my forte. Knots, in particular, were an unpleasant thing to behold. Never had a two-year-old been angrier with a piece of string.
“Gah!”
My fingers, seemingly of their own volition, grasped two pieces of the string and pulled in opposite directions, pulling one through the other, and then, again without thinking, I grabbed another part of the string and pulled, and the whole bag fell open.
There it was, the orb, floating right in front of me.
I put out my hand, and it very gently brushed my palm. Glassy but not glass, slick but without residue, it made my whole hand tingle.
And then it bit.
Something cracked open in the back of my mind, and I saw Zenna, my sister, yet unborn. I saw her fiery death in space. And I saw Vanista, a mere fraction of a moment yet to be lived.
“No Augie, No!”
The orb sat in my outstretched hand, which tingled all the way from the center of my palm to the tips of my fingers. I’d successfully called it.
He’s a natural, Josefeen was thinking.
“You know, I don’t want to be the first to say this,” Masa whispered to the Canon, “but I think something weird is going on.”
“What do you mean?”
How I was able to hear them, I had no idea. They were both in the other room, sitting at the bar, drinks in hand. Indeed, how could I even see them?
“Plankwell… chasing around a soap bubble… while his lieutenant faints and then gets back up again like nothing happened. None of this seems odd to you?”
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” the Canon replied. “It’s probably a hallucination.”
“It all happened before I started drinking.”
“Which would tend to indicate a distorted sense of time.”
Masa looked at him, saucer-eyed.
“Don’t worry. You’ll be fine,” the Canon said. “But now it’s time to pray. You may ask something of the universe, if you wish, but I would caution you not to ask for anything for yourself. Asking personal favors can work out badly, as the universe, it turns out, has a… a sometimes unfunny sense of humor… to the extent irony can be unfunny… in the moment, as it were. You might laugh ruefully... decades later.”
During all this, Josefeen approached one slow step at a time, but my attention was not on her. I was focused on the orb. What is it? Inexplicably, a deep sense of happiness welled up within me. The sheer fact that such a thing existed and that I was holding it, now for a third time, was making me euphoric.
I fought to keep my command mask on lest Lt. Abbonette have further cause for worry. However, I couldn’t help but smile as an errant thought, that I could just kiss them all, flitted maniacally across my brain.
«Are you ready to do this again?» Josefeen asked. We were now face-to-face, her lips mere centimeters from mine. «Are you ready to open wide, Captain?»
Conrad Rader
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Jim Vassilakos
Okay, hold on a minute or three. We need to stop. You wrote “her fathers”. Not “her father”?
That’s interesting.
Was it a typo, or are you proposing that she had multiple fathers? And if the latter, tell me your thoughts on how that sort of society might work and what you think are likely to be the results in the long-term both sociologically and what it would ultimately mean for human ethics and psychology. And no I'm not kidding. If that's fathers and not father, then I want to have that discussion before we proceed.
One other thing I will ask for also, regardless of whether or not that was supposed to be father or fathers, is for you to tell me your interpretation of what Gus honestly thinks about Josefeen. And give me some examples, so I can understand why. What is his assessment of her? Honestly.
And sorry if this is too much all at once. Nobody ever said PBEMing was easy. :-)
Conrad Rader
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Jim Vassilakos
«Are you ready to do this again?» she asked. We were now face-to-face, her lips mere centimeters from mine. «Are you ready to open wide, Captain?»
I lifted my free hand and brought it gently to the back of her head, drawing her close, as the orb, still sitting in my other hand, began pulsing as if it contained an actual beating heart. Its pulse, oddly enough, kept time with the thumping in my own chest, and as I held Josefeen, or to be more accurate, as we held each other, I could feel her heart pulsing to the same clock.
I opened my mental curtain wide, fully accepting her and offering myself, all my insecurities, my achievements, my total sense of self. It was so much easier establishing the link this way, with the orb breaking down all my inhibitions and allowing me to revel in the freedom of being who I was, fully.
We are coming together as one, we thought in unison.
I knew, quite suddenly, how she liked to be held, even the way she’d been cradled as a baby by her fathers. Yes, two men, both psions, were her genetic fathers. They’d served at the naval garrison on Karin. Josefeen was a genetic blend, a sort of reverse sex clone paid for by the Navy in a program it was running in order to breed even more powerful psions. These men as well as others in their polycule trained her from an early age to explore her psionic talents, and later she attended a secluded and very secret school on Iderati called Irasdur Parga Eduba, also known as the Brookhaven Psionic Academy.
A parade of images cascaded through my mind, her at different ages, each with different emotional nuance. I saw her as a child, and as a young woman, and as she was now.
Is he calling me old? Oh, hell no.
But she was old, far older than myself. She’d been on anagathics, longevity drugs, for decades, plying her trade as a honey pot for IBIS and later as an instructor at Brookhaven. Anagathics belonged to Intel. Even the nobles did not partake, at least in modern times. Through her mind, I could sense the reason: the nobles were not really in charge. Intel was really in charge. They, whoever they were, placed her aboard the Jaqueline to test and train neo-psions, people who had the gift but didn’t even know it. Neos were particularly valuable to Intel, because there was virtually no way the Zhodani could know about their potential, a potential that could be awakened by psionic orbs and then used along the borders and into the neutral zone.
That’s the reason I was being activated, because although the Zhos knew we had psions, they didn’t know Captain Plankwell was one.
So it was true. Josefeen’s controller, who she’d never met in person, but who was apparently aboard my ship, wanted the location of the Vermillion Stance, the ship that Intel believed had attacked us. The only question was whether the Zhodani had an asset on Jewell who knew its location. I suddenly remembered that Zhodani navy officer I’d caught staring at me at my reception like he was trying to read my mind through whatever psi-suppression field Maz had erected. The stolen cruiser had to have some sort of base, and it was probably close by, given that it was clearly operating in this neck of the woods.
That’s why I’d been activated. Otherwise, none of this would ever have happened, and they would have waited a while longer for me to establish myself as a captain. But I was always going to be activated eventually. It was only a question of when. So there had always been a psi orb in my future, and now there was one in my hand.
Several had been discovered at various archaeological sites. Josefeen had been told they predated Humaniti. “Toys of the Ancients,” a teacher once told her. “Some call them the Souls of God.” The one in my hand continued pulsing in time with our beating hearts.
Holding one, at least by a psion, presented an abundance of opportunities. How I knew this, I could only surmise was due to our psychic link. Josefeen stared into my eyes like she was trying to communicate, but instead of sending words back and forth, we were in each other's memories.
I could feel her poking around in the database that was my brain, trying to figure out what I thought of her. Most important to her was my long-term reaction to our little squabble aboard the Kinnuki, and how I felt about her sticking me with psi-enhancer without so much as a friendly warning, and then there was her laughing her head off while I was getting arrested.
It was the damn psi-enhancer. It lowered our inhibitions, and our inner assholes came out. Was that why I declared martial law? The look in Josefeen’s eyes told me that we could crush the Countess, or the Admiral, or even the government of Jewell, if Intel gave its assent. Her boss, the one on my ship who she’d never seen, could do almost anything.
Hello, my new friend. Now that you’re receiving this message, you’ve found the ability to enter deeply. You can do this by establishing a psychic link and then using the orb to probe the mind of the subject or partner, as you are doing now. Josefeen is yours to do with as you will, and you may reach me through her. Let her teach you, and contact Khourzkhoug Kanrrae when you are ready for further training.
Josefeen, meanwhile, was obvious to the message she had just delivered. She was still searching through my recent memories, relieved that our psychic link and the access it gave me to her point of view had mellowed my impression of her, which had soured in the Kinnuki. She was further pleased that I found her conviction and willingness to get the job done using any and all tools available to her, even if I happened to be one of those tools, very attractive. But she also knew that although there was a certain physical attraction between us, I didn’t consider her my type.
Until a man gets with me, they don’t know nothin’ about what type is their type. I could ride him like a succubus from Hell.
Indeed, she had, and it was not difficult to realize that she was ready to devour me whole. It was nothing special about me, per se. She’d done it to other men. She’d called me a manipulator, but she was far worse. But thanks to her supervisor, I had the upper hand.
Josefeen is yours to do with as you will.
Just like that, she found it. I was in charge, not her. Not only was I in charge of this mission. I was in charge of her. Entirely.
«You better not be some pervert.»
She was still staring at me, expressionless, but inside I knew she was smiling, because she now knew me well enough to know I wasn’t.
The one thing I’d resented about her was her expectation of my subservience.
«I can’t believe that fool put you in charge.»
I’d had no choice but to accept the situation, just as now she had no choice. I could follow her lead if I wanted to, or I could ignore it. It was up to me.
«Just because I got wasted on the job, now I’m being demoted. And don’t think this isn’t your fault. You could have warned me about Doctor Drugs back there.»
They were talking in the other room. It was near enough, I could sense it like I was in there with them, but it was now six instead of two, and one of them wasn’t human.
It wasn’t even alive.
It was the Olav robot. Amika was beside it. She’d accompanied the robot, officially at the request of the Countess but actually the request was her own. She wanted to make General Dakhir and/or Admiral Karneticky jealous, though she understood her notion to be far-fetched given that Olav was not an actual person and had no real status beyond the collective memory of those who still honored his name. Beside her stood my old shipmate, Guri Maakhiriin, who was accompanying her as her escort and guard, and then there was Ensign Florence, hanging toward the back. Her job was to monitor the Olav robot, the pause remote firmly in hand, watching for any sign of malfunction.
If I’d let the major fire on that gravcar, I would have very likely killed them all.
“They left?” Amika asked.
“Toward the stage,” Captain Masa said, not quite sure if this wasn’t all some elaborate hallucination. He’d seen the faceless Stavelot, but he’d never talked to her before. Meanwhile, he decided what his wish would be.
The Canon, of course, offered them a drink.
“Robots don’t drink,” Alise said, “and no offense, but I would never accept a drink from you, Reggie. Perhaps we should see what’s going on outside?”
In the back of his mind, Canon Regimath Forklinbrass was thinking about the Soul of God he’d seen me chasing. He’s recognized it for what it was, but he also knew it to be associated with psionics, which he well understood to be verboten, yet he was still moved by the inordinate degree of respect I’d shown him earlier when I expressed Kalan Sishame, and he was determined that whatever was going on, he would help me, convinced that this was the will of the Universe.
“Wait,” he said as Amika started for the door.
“Wait? Why?”
“Ah…” the Canon turned toward Captain Masa, his mind drawing a momentary blank.
“There’s something weird going on,” Masa said.
(At this point, Gus realizes that if someone comes through that door, they’re going to see him and Josefeen standing there in close proximity with the psionic orb. That might not be a good thing. So what does Gus do? Also, feel free to let me know if you see any problems with the logic of these revelations.)
Conrad Rader
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Jim Vassilakos
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1SlHi8d3O2RsQ7daVEjlk7qI-sF9prDwD/edit?usp=sharing&ouid=113687616933633107445&rtpof=true&sd=true
PLEASE REMEMBER to change "EDITING" to "SUGGESTING" (near the upper right-hand corner) before doing any edits.
Timothy Collinson
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PO1 2ST
Jim Vassilakos
Timothy Collinson
Thanks, Timothy.Here's the beginning of Chapter 40: https://groups.google.com/g/plankwell-pbem-s1/c/fyqy5af5a7k/m/5yRjXmw-AgAJ
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