Danaerea

Posts Tagged ‘alien conspiracy’

OBSERVATION RESUMES

Richard continued to stare at the famous clock tower in the distance. It was named for the huge bell inside it – Big Ben. “How did we get here? How long did Faloneth keep me unconscious? Weeks??”

Sarsoneth ignored the questions, pragmatic as always. “You are not yet safe, Richard. We must leave this area immediately.”

Richard seemed rooted to the spot. “We were in Central America. We were in the jungle. What day is it?”

“Richard.” Alea Chantal was uncharacteristically gentle. “You were only out for a couple of hours. Distance doesn’t mean much to anyone who can use the g’ru’tnok. Hail a cab, Richard. Have it take you to the Hilton, the Islington one. Remember? You stayed there during that conference on Aztec building techniques last year.”

It was a plan; something to do; to get him off dead center. Richard needed that. He flagged down a passing cab, climbed in the back when it stopped and gave the driver his destination. He collapsed back into the seat.

The cabbie didn’t pull out or start the meter. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, buddy,” he said, “but you don’t exactly look like Hilton’s kind of people. You even got enough for the cab fare?”

Richard pulled himself over in the seat so he could look in the cab’s rear view mirror. God, he was a mess. Belatedly, he thought about what he’d been through since this all started. Grubbin’ around a Mayan temple was the least of it. The mad race down a jungle trail. The crash. Crawling back up to the road. Everything that had happened since he first saw Faloneth, which had apparently included crossing an ocean.

Richard managed a wry smile. How could everything be so absurd one minute and so …normal… the next? Of course this guy thought he was gonna stiff him for the fare. He looked like he’d been sleeping on the street for six months. It was a wonder he’d even stopped. Richard reached into his pocket; was almost surprised to find that his wallet was still there. He pulled out a platinum-colored credit card, held it up so the cab driver could see it. “They’ll be happy to have me back. I’m a big tipper.” The cabbie smiled broadly, put the car in gear and pulled onto the street.

After a couple of failed attempts to engage his passenger in small talk, the cabbie gave up and left him alone. For his part, Richard was satisfied to simply stare out the window. After a few minutes, he spoke silently to Sarsoneth and Alea Chantal. “So what keeps that psychotic bitch from coming after me when she wakes up? If she can cross an ocean in a couple of hours, getting across town doesn’t seem like much of an obstacle.”

Sarsoneth answered. “I believe that we were successful in disguising our action as a trap set by one of her rivals. Which means that she will continue to think that you are merely the latest in an exceedingly long line of similar experiments. Her psychosis will not allow her to believe that she cannot duplicate that experiment. So, while she will not hesitate to act on an opportunity to recapture you, neither will she make it a priority. I anticipate that we have months, perhaps years, before we need face her again.”

Which doesn’t mean we’re in the clear,” began Alea Chantal. “For one thing, Faloneth isn’t the only Yannoneth. We need…”

Richard interrupted her. “I need to talk to Nadine. And a drink. And a bath. And a drink. In that order.”

“Richard…,” began Alea Chantal, but she was again interrupted, this time by Sarsoneth.

“Very well, Richard. We are your mentors, not your controllers.”

Richard could sense that Alea Chantal wasn’t happy with that. There was something she wanted to tell him right now. He didn’t care. He couldn’t take one more thing. Not right now. After a moment, she seemed to realize that as well.

The rest of the trip to the hotel was completed in silence, both in the cab and in his head.

OBSERVATION PAUSED BY REQUEST

Enquiry Response: For additional background on the psychology of the aberrant Yannoneth, I suggest Members search under genus Danaerean, subgenus Yannoneth, category Disaffected. Also, refer to Genetic Engineering, subtopic Ethical Imperative.

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OBSERVATION RESUMES

This time when he woke up in the lab, Richard was prepared for the sense of dislocation. What he wasn’t prepared for was the look in Faloneth’s eyes as she considered him, the d’ha’taan cradled in the palm of her hand. She looked – Richard searched for the right word – hungry.

After a time that seemed like eternity but was surely only a few seconds, she stood up, walked to a counter that ran the length of the wall, turned and leaned against it. She rolled the d’ha’taan in her hand again, as if considering, before she spoke. “Very informative, Richard.”

At his blank stare, she continued. “Oh, not what I learned. Quite the opposite, in fact.” She held up the blue, teardrop-shaped crystal. “Do you know what this is, Richard? How it works?”

“It looks like one of the stones my wife’s masseuse uses. Trying to help me get in touch with my feminine side, are you?” Richard quipped.

Faloneth’s smile in no way indicated that she appreciated his humor. “We shall see how much longer your impudence persists. The d’ha’taan is an amplifier. Its crystalline structure enhances my ability to walk through your mind; though, as I told you, it has never been necessary to use it on a human before. Do you know what happened when I used it, in its least intrusive configuration, on your mind, Richard?”

“We started singing old campfire songs together?”

“Nothing happened. Less than nothing. It was like gliding over a frozen lake, with all of the things I am looking for hidden in the depths below. Not even the tedious minutiae that most humans are perennially preoccupied with came clear. Why do you suppose that is, Richard?”

Richard looked at the crystal with genuine interest. It really did look like the things that those New Age spas used, claiming to be able to tune clients’ auras and such. He’d always dismissed it all as so much bunk. Perhaps, as the saying went, there was a kernel of truth even in the most outlandish ideas. He looked at Faloneth. “Nadine has accused me of being empty-headed occasionally. Maybe she was right?”

The intensity of the anger that crossed Faloneth’s face bordered on insanity and left no doubt that Richard had struck a chord with his taunting banter. The question was whether or not it would prompt her to do what they wanted. And if it did, would Richard survive?

She looked at the d’ha’taan, which glowed softly for a moment. “It is reconfigured,” she said, looking at Richard again. “In a moment, I will know who created you. I will know how it was done. It is regrettable that you will not survive the process. There are certain things that I would have enjoyed exploring further.” She stepped toward Richard, reached out to place the d’ha’taan on his forehead. In spite of himself, Richard flinched, closing his eyes.

“Look at the damn restraints, Richard!” yelled Alea Chantal. “We’ve got to get the hell out of here.”

Richard opened his eyes, trying to crane his head to look in all directions at the same time. He saw Carlos lying on the other side of the room. He was glassy-eyed, obviously dead. The look on his face suggested it hadn’t been a pleasant way to go.

“The restraints, Richard. We don’t have much time.” The urgency in Alea Chantal’s voice helped Richard pull himself together. He looked at the clasp over his left wrist, which immediately began to open. As soon as he could get that hand free he shifted his focus to the right, then each anklet, as Alea Chantal and Sarsoneth worked through him to manipulate a power he still found it hard to believe he possessed.

As soon as the process was complete Richard leapt out of the chair. Faloneth lay to his right, crumpled on the floor but still breathing. The blue crystal, dark now and dead-looking, lay beside her.

“Richard, go out the door in front of you and turn right,” Sarsoneth said. “I was able to extract the layout of this complex from Carlos’ mind before he died. I can guide you to the exit.”

Richard didn’t have to be told twice. He was through the door and running down the corridor in an instant.

“Right again at the next juncture, Richard. You should be prepared for a number of disturbing sights beyond the next door.”

Sarsoneth didn’t elaborate and Richard wondered what a disembodied emotionless voice would consider “disturbing.” He turned right, came to the door and opened it. The sight that greeted him only confirmed his initial belief that Sarsoneth had a talent for understatement. If he hadn’t been so terrified and desperate to get out of there, he might have taken time to throw up. A row of ten small cells lined each side of the corridor, after which a second door closed off the passageway. There was a dead body in each cell. From the anguished expressions on their faces, they had died the same way that Carlos had.

The fact that he had almost certainly been instrumental in their deaths, however, wasn’t what made Richard feel sick. It was their physical condition. With one or two exceptions, they were horribly deformed. It was as if someone had taken them apart and put them back together again without much consideration of what went where.

“Faloneth’s genetic experiments, Richard. You did them a favor.” Alea Chantal’s voice was gentle in his head.

“What… what was she trying to do? What did she want?” Richard choked out as he covered the distance to the second door, trying not to look at the wrecks in the cells as he passed.

“You.”

Richard opened the second door, stepped through and quickly closed it behind him. He leaned against it for a moment. “Okay, not going to think about that right now. Where next?”

“Turn left at the end of this corridor, Richard.” Sarsoneth directed. “There will be a stairway. Two flights up there will be a door with a DNA scanner. It may take a moment, but we will convince it that you are Carlos. It should allow us to exit. I am not certain how much longer Faloneth will remain incapacitated so it would be wise to continue to move quickly.”

Richard had already reached the stairs and was pounding up them. “I’m not exactly dawdling here, you know. I saw the look in her eyes.” A thought occurred to him. “If you took me past that corridor of horrors to convince me she’s crazy, it wasn’t necessary.” He skidded to a stop at the second landing.

“That was not my intention, Richard. It was simply the most direct route to this exit. Please look toward the scanner above the door.”

Richard looked up, saw another crystal. It wasn’t shaped anything like the one Faloneth had used on him.

“Different purpose,” Sarsoneth responded to Richard’s unasked question. The crystal glowed more brightly for a moment. “I believe we can leave now. Please try the door, Richard.”

As Richard pushed the door open cautiously, he was amazed to hear familiar sounds. Stepping through, he found himself on the sidewalk of a busy city street. Pedestrians hurried by, dressed in a wide variety of business and casual attire. There was a chill in the air and most people wore light jackets of one kind or another. No one paid any attention to him.

Richard gaped at the historic landmark rising a few blocks away. “We’re in London.”

OBSERVATION PAUSED BY REQUEST

Enquiry Response: The Member is correct; the Yannoneth use of crystals, while not unique, is one of the most extensive documented. My thanks to the Member for that reference from the Universal Repository.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

OBSERVATION RESUMES

Richard was back in the grove overlooking the lake. He leapt up from his seated position by the tree. “Alea Chantal! Sarsoneth! Where the hell are you?”

“Right here Richard.” Alea Chantal stepped into view from a shadowy spot beside a cluster of birch trees a few feet away.

“That bitch is crazier than I thought I was. She’s got a thing on my head that’s gonna suck my brain out or something. We’ve got to do something.”

Alea Chantal’s smile was barely a flicker across her face. “No more denial eh, Richard? Meeting a Disaffected will do that to you. As to ‘doing something’, we’re trying Richard. It isn’t easy. If you were in full control of the g’ru’tnok you’d at least be on an equal footing in regards to abilities. You can do everything she can do. Unfortunately, she still has a few millennia on you in terms of practice.”

“Did you say ‘millennia’?” Richard asked.

“Yeah, millennia; and for a Disaffected Yannoneth, every second of that time is filled with delusions of grandeur and plotting to take over the world.” Alea Chantal rolled her eyes. “Did you get that bit about being ‘the most powerful Yannoneth’? Every single one of them makes that claim.” She made a rude noise. “I bet even Sarsoneth could have beat her, back in the day.”

“Your confidence in me is touching, my dear,” came Sarsoneth’s voice, although his tone, as flat as ever, didn’t seem touched. “However, I must remind you, again, that we have limited time. I am finding it difficult to deflect the probe that Faloneth is using on Richard. We must continue to act with dispatch.”

“I agree,” Richard said. “I want to get as far away from that nutjob as possible. So how do I get control of this g’ru’tnok, whatever it is? Is it in the lab? What’s it look like? Is it like that d’na’whatever that Jaimie found in the temple? I didn’t see anything like that.”

“You didn’t spend much time looking either,” Alea Chantal noted, drolly. “Once you got a look at Faloneth, your eyes were pretty much glued there.”

She didn’t bother waiting for Richard to reply. “G’ru’tnok isn’t an object. It’s the energy that permeates the entire planet. It’s in and around everything.”

Richard’s scepticism kicked in. “New Age gobbledegook,” he snorted.

Alea Chantal shrugged. “Have it your way. This is all just a dream.” She began to fade out.

“Wait. Point taken. I’m trying, okay? So how does this g’ru’tnok help us? What am I supposed to do with it?”

Alea Chantal regained solidity. “You can do anything with it. With enough practice. That’s the problem. You should have had years to learn to how to manipulate it. Decades. Time to hone your skill before you ever faced a Yannoneth one on one.”

Richard pressed. “Okay, so that was Plan A and it’s out the window. What’s Plan B? You and Sarsoneth did pretty good back in the jungle, with my arm and the jeep and Carlos and all that. Why can’t we do the same thing now? I’ll empty my mind, let you drive, or possess me, or whatever the right term is. Let’s just get that thing off my head while I’ve still got a brain in my skull.”

“Faloneth is not sucking out your brain Richard,” Alea Chantal replied. “As to what we did in the jungle, that was a cakewalk compared to this. We only had Carlos to deal with. You saw how easily Faloneth kept him immobilized in the lab while she was dealing with you. He wasn’t even an afterthought.

“Whatever we do will have to be swift and it’ll have to be brutal. We won’t get a second chance. You can’t just ‘let us drive’. The d’na’tnek doesn’t work that way. Even with the unique engineering the Twelve gave you, what we’ve already done was almost impossible.”

“‘Engineering’?” Richard asked suspiciously. “Hang on. Faloneth wanted to know who ‘created’ me. Who are the Twelve? What the hell does that mean, ‘engineering’?”

Alea Chantal was uncharacteristically contrite. “I’m sorry, Richard. As Sarsoneth is fond of reminding, I sometimes have trouble focusing on the task at hand. Once we get out of this, we’ll explain it all. Just as we’ve promised. For now, just think of the Twelve as the good guys and the Yannoneth as the bad guys. Given what Faloneth is trying to do that shouldn’t be too hard, should it?”

Richard couldn’t argue with that. For now. “So we’re back to the original question. How do I escape?”

Sarsoneth spoke up. “I believe I may have the answer to that. If a feedback loop can be created in the crystalline structure of the d’ha’taan, it should overload. If we act at the exact moment that Faloneth is placing it on Richard’s forehead, while she is still in physical contact with it, we should be able to direct the overload through Faloneth’s nervous system, rendering her unconscious.”

Alea Chantal was enthusiastic. “She won’t know what hit her. Can you make it look as though it overloaded naturally? Or at least as a result of some mental trap set up by the Yannoneth that she thinks created Richard?”

“The latter would be more appropriate. This is, in fact, a technique that was used by the Disaffected themselves during the Shelter War. Faloneth will find it quite plausible that a rival would set such a trap in Richard’s mind. When she recovers.”

“Not enough energy to kill her, I suppose?”

“Unfortunately, that is correct.”

Richard was thinking about something else. “What happens if you don’t time it right?”

“Should Faloneth remove her hand before the overload is initiated, you would most likely be killed,” Sarsoneth replied matter-of-factly.

“Don’t be a woos, Richard,” Alea Chantal chimed in. “A quick-fried brain is better than the slow dissection Faloneth has planned for you any day.”

Richard didn’t have any reply to that so he ignored it. “So once she’s knocked out what do I do? Ask my good pal Carlos to unlock my cuffs and show me the door?”

Alea Chantal laughed. “Glad to see you’re getting your sense of humor back, Richard. No, silly, once Faloneth is out of the picture, that’s when we do what we did in the jungle. You focus on each of the restraints and we get busy.”

“And Carlos? The guards?”

“The discharge from the d’ha’taan will affect all minds for some distance, Richard.” Sarsoneth said. “It is only because Faloneth is Yannoneth that she must be in contact with it. In fact, the discharge may permanently damage anyone else in the room.”

“The hell with them. They killed at least one of the members of my team, maybe all of them. If they’re following this psycho bitch, they take their chances.”

“Indeed,” replied Sarsoneth. “Faloneth is removing the d’ha’taan, Richard. She must use it again for our plan to succeed.”

Everything faded again.

OBSERVATION PAUSED BY REQUEST

Enquiry Response: To the Member’s point: both human and Danaerean terminology is being used due to the unusual intermingling of the two cultures.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

OBSERVATION RESUMES

As Richard regained his senses, he realized that he was seated in a chair of some kind. When he tried to raise his hand to his head, he discovered that his wrists were locked to the chair’s arms. A tentative movement of his legs confirmed that his ankles were similarly restrained.

Acting on Alea Chantal and Sarsoneth’s directions, he began to visually survey the room. He hadn’t gotten much past identifying it as a laboratory of some kind, however, before he was distracted by a voice. The woman he’d seen on the trail in Central America stepped into view. “Well, Richard, you led us a bit of a chase.” She looked to Richard’s left and added, “More of a chase than I had anticipated.”

Richard turned his head to follow her gaze, saw Carlos standing in the corner of the room. He seemed unnaturally rigid, and his expression made it clear he was in considerable pain. Richard wasn’t particularly sympathetic. “Hey buddy,” he said fliply. “I’d offer to shake hands but, well, I’m kinda tied up.” He looked back at the woman, decided to play dumb. Which still wasn’t all that far from the truth anyway. “Listen lady, your stooge over there got what you wanted. I don’t like people who vandalize ruins, but what’s done is done. I hope you make a bundle on the black market for that trinket. If you’ll just let me go, I promise I’ll be on my way and we’ll forget the whole thing, okay?”

The woman laughed. “Even were I a mere human fool like Carlos, I would not be taken in by such a patently false statement. Would you not seek justice for your murdered friends? Redress for the … trinket as you call it that you have lost? Besides Richard, although the d’na’nish is indeed a great prize, and I thank you for leading me to it, it does indeed pale almost to a ‘trinket’ beside you. No Richard, we shall not be parting company any time soon. So you need not continue your pretence at innocence. It is pointless.”

“Damn it lady,” Richard yelled. “Like I told that asshole in the corner, this is no pretence. Who the hell do you think I am? I’m no prize. I’m an archaeologist, trying to dig up some old ruins in the middle of the jungle. I’m not rich. No one is going to pay a ransom for me.”

She ignored his outburst, other than to say, “Ransom. An amusing idea.” She looked at him clinically, put a hand to his jaw, turning his head from side to side. “Not Malineth’s work. He doesn’t have the skill to blend the physical aspects so well. He always ended up with deformed limbs or some similar shortcoming.” She smiled at Richard. “I assume that you were not born with scaled arms, nor grew horns and a tail when you reached puberty?” At Richard’s blank stare she laughed. “No, I did not think so. Definitely not Malineth then; although he did create some interesting hybrids. You have no doubt seen representations of Anubis. Although I preferred Horus myself. I am partial to birds.” She seemed to be considering.

“Hashipaleth perhaps? She was always quite clever at unlocking the psychic elements. No doubt, one of hers would have been able to misdirect a weak mind like Carlos’.” She let of Richard, stepped back. “Well, enough speculation.” Her gaze fixed on Richard’s eyes. They seemed hypnotic. “Who created you Richard? Who is your Lord or Lady? Who do you obey?”

For a moment, Richard felt like he was getting lost in those eyes. Then he seemed to break free of whatever she was trying to do, and answered defiantly. “Created me? Mr. and Mrs. Redmond created me. After a rather rambunctious New Year’s Eve party as I recall the story. The only lady I listen to is my wife; and I wish the hell I’d ‘obeyed’ her and not come on this damn dig.”

The woman ignored his defiance, continued to lock gazes with him a few moments longer. Then she turned away scowling. “Amazing. Your will is strong Richard. It is almost Yannoneth in magnitude. I have never encountered a human, engineered or otherwise, who could resist me for even a moment. Perhaps I was a trifle harsh with Carlos after all.” She flicked a glance at the corner where her flunky still stood motionless. He immediately gasped and sank to the ground, as if released from some sort of paralysis.

When she turned back to Richard, he could see that she was holding something in her hand that be a crystal of some sort. “This device will make you more …amenable … to my requests Richard. You should be flattered; never before has there been need to use it on a human. It can, however, have unpleasant side effects. Permanent ones. I would prefer to have my answers without damaging you. So I ask you one more time – who do you serve?”

Richard shook his head, struggled against his restraints. “I told you damn it, I don’t serve anyone. I’m an archaeologist. I dig in the dirt. That’s all.”

The woman shook her head. “I am sorry Richard. We both know that is not the truth. You are much too powerful. I need to know how that power was created, and by whom. I need to make it mine.”

“Make it yours? Why? Who the hell are you?”

“I am Faloneth, the most powerful of the Yannoneth. I must have the secret of your genesis because it will aid me in achieving my destiny.”

“What destiny would that be?” Richard asked.

She looked at him contemptuously. “Why to rule of course. To be worshipped. To hold the life, and death, of everyone and everything in my hand.” And with that she reached out and placed the crystal on Richard’s forehead.

This was getting tedious he thought, as he felt consciousness slipping away again.

OBSERVATION PAUSED BY REQUEST

Enquiry Response: The Member is correct; sentience capable of utilizing Energy should not be capable of the megalomania evident in Faloneth’s statement. This aberration is a result of the Setback.

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

What if -

• you were the chosen champion of an ancient race, genetically engineered for their purposes?
• that purpose was to prevent the aliens who had destroyed their world from taking over the human race?
• you had spent most of your life totally unaware of any of this?

What if -

• to help you, this ancient race had given you two “mentors” who existed only in your head …
  
• and, the memories of every single one of your ancestors …
  
• and, the ability to use the energy of the Earth itself, giving you “super” powers?

This is the situation Richard Redmond, archaeologist, finds himself in when three strangers show up on a remote dig site, destroy his camp, kill his assistants, and attempt to kidnap him. Who can he trust? Who should he believe? How does he learn to use his new-found abilities? What secrets will the memories of his ancestors reveal? Richard has to find a way to make sense of an impossible situation. Before it kills him.
 

What if -

all of the gods and goddesses of myth; all of the legends of Atlantis, Mu and other ancient civilizations; all of the stories of psychic powers and superheroes; all of the whispers of secret societies and global conspiracies

– what if they were not only true, but had a single origin?

- Danaerea

• Revelation – Richard Redmond (read it or subsrcibe to the podcast) 
• Danaerean Prologue – (find out how it all came to be)

.

OBSERVATION RESUMES

When Richard came to, he was sitting on a wooded hill overlooking a mountain lake, with his back resting against a pine tree. He could smell the tree sap, and the scent of wildflowers that he could see dotting the slope down to the water was heavy in the air. A bird sang in a tree and he tilted his head upward, looking for it.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? Peaceful.” Richard snapped his head around toward the voice and for the first time saw Alea Chantal. She was beautiful. Long golden hair worn loosely around her shoulders; athletic but “well rounded” as his dad used to say; dressed in clothes that reminded Richard of those French Renaissance period pieces that Nadine loved, with full skirt and frilly bodice. Not too tall;  Richard doubted that she’d come close to his six foot one.

Alea Chantal laughed. Not sarcastically. She curtsied. “Why thank you, good sir. ‘Tis a comely description of me that ye’ve offered and I most graciously accept it. You did not, however, answer the question. Isn’t this one of the most peaceful places you’ve ever been?” For emphasis, she made a sweeping gesture that took in the woods, the lake, and the mountain rising in the background; extended it into a pirouette than made her skirt billow out and her hair fly. She ended where she’d started, arms wrapped around herself and facing Richard.

He looked at Alea Chantal, then at the view. He sighed. Then he stood up, walking toward her. “Yes, it’s beautiful; and peaceful. It’s also completely impossible. What’s going on? Who are you? Where am I? How did I get here? A minute ago I was in Central America. This …” Richard stopped.

Alea Chantal finished his sentence. “… is France. Or at least, it’s a part of France that I knew. Once upon a time.” She sighed. “Richard, there’s so much that you need to know, and not much time to tell you. You weren’t supposed to Awaken this way. It was the d’na’nish of course. It attracted the attention of one of the Yannoneth. We don’t know which one yet. It was that woman of course. Once they homed in on what you call the artefact, it was inevitable that they’d get wind of you.”

Richard held up a hand. “Stop. Just stop. You’re not making any sense. If I’m not delirious, and I still think that’s the most likely explanation, then how the hell did I get … here?” He gestured at their surroundings.

Alea Chantal’s annoyance flared up again and was evident in her reply. “You’re not delirious Richard. You really do need to let go of that whole denial thing. There’s …”

The voice of Sarsoneth, seemingly coming from the trees overhead, broke in. “Alea Chantal. He knows. You know that he does. Let him come to acceptance in his own way.”

Alea Chantal locked gazes with Richard for a moment, seemed to find something that satisfied her. “Well. Alright then. I guess I’ve been cooped up with this Ethical (she made a motion with her head toward the trees that Richard took to indicate that she meant Sarsoneth) so long that I’ve lost the knack for subtlety. It’s not their strong suit you know.”

Listening to this byplay, Richard realized that Sarsoneth was right. He did know that whatever was happening was real. He didn’t know how or why yet, but he was damned well going to find out. Richard was used to being in control of whatever situation he was in. This sense of being carried along like a cork in a flood didn’t sit well. He spoke up. “What’s an Ethical?”

Alea Chantal made a rude noise. “The most irritating, annoying, frustrating, self-righteous…”

Sarsoneth again interrupted her. “Alea Chantal’s opinion notwithstanding, Richard, I would suggest that we have more pressing matters to deal with. You are not as safe as the appearance of this place would seem to indicate.”

“… and they interrupt a lot too,” Alea Chantal concluded. “However, he’s right. This place isn’t what it seems. You asked how you got from Central America to France, Richard. Well, the truth is you didn’t. We’re not sure where you are. You’ve been unconscious since you first spotted that Yannoneth bitch. This place, and for that matter Sarsoneth and I, are inside your head. Always have been.”

Richard stared at her. Then he walked over to a tree, tore off some bark and shook it at Alea Chantal. “Make up your damn mind. I just accepted I wasn’t delusional. Now you tell me it’s all in my head? No way. This,” and he shook the bark again, “is not my imagination.”

Alea Chantal sighed. “I’m sorry, Richard. It’s not easy to explain. But you really are in terrible danger, and we really do want to help.” She took a deep breath. “We’re in the d’na’tnek. What you might think of as genetic memory. Every memory of every ancestor in your family tree is stored here, scattered throughout the DNA that makes you who you are.”

“This doesn’t feel like a memory,” Richard countered stubbornly.

“No, the d’na’tnek is much more, and we’re using it in a way that I’m not sure even the Twelve would recognize.”

“Who?” Richard asked.

“Alea Chantal,” Sarsoneth’s cautioning voice interjected.

“I know, I know. Richard, we’ll answer all of your questions. Later. I promise. Right now, we need to get you away from the Yannoneth. To do that, we need your help. She’s going to bring you around in a few minutes. We need you to observe as much as you can. You are our eyes and ears remember. Then, when you lose consciousness again, we can bring you back here and decide what to do.”

“Why don’t you just use your magical powers like you did last time?” Richard asked.

Alea Chantal smiled ruefully at the sarcasm in his voice. “First, they’re not ‘our’ powers, Richard, they’re yours. Second, at the moment we’re kind of hiding out here while you, to all appearances, are lying peacefully in a cell or a box or something, no doubt snoring like every man I ever met. We do know that your body is not under any physical duress.

“Richard, it’s absolutely essential that Yannoneth bitch doesn’t suspect that either Sarsoneth or I exist. If that were to happen, everything the Twelve have been working toward for millennia would be undone. Humanity’s future would be over.”

Richard was going to say something about being overdramatic when everything started to fade, starting with the mountain and moving inward to where he and Alea Chantal were standing. She reached a hand out toward him as she took on a ghost-like transparency.

Sarsoneth’s voice seemed to come from a great distance. “Remember Richard. Observe everything. Reveal nothing. The Yannoneth must not discover your true nature or that we exist.”

OBSERVATION PAUSED BY REQUEST

Enquiry Response: Regarding the Member’s comment on Sarsoneth and Alea Chantal. Yes, I am aware that fully self-aware mental constructs are not standard operating procedure within genetic memory. This was identified in the Observation filed under the title Danaerean Prologue, which I have previously recommended for Concurrent review.

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