Time Threads #10: The Defense of Iveny House

  

The Defense of Iveny House

The T820 "aerodroids", also known as "Hornets" used elliptical air combat techniques for dog fights. They could match the tactics of any adversary. The T820s featured force shields and plasma cannons. On paper,  Iveny House forces were equal to "Gunslingers"; but in the field, they had a fatal flaw. Once the T820's shield power dropped below 20%, a single plasma blast could turn them into scrap metal.

    The estate's first line of defense were four smart bipedal heavy artillery stations. Their lethally accurate swivel chest tactical lasers, and high frequency sonic cannons were capable of devastating anything within 3000 meters. Unfortunately, because they were defensive weapons their shield technology could not maintain integrity, and simultaneously allow weapons fire. To compensate the drones were programmed with attack algorithms that randomly altered shields configurations to permit coordinated weapons fire. However, with the A647's adaptive tactical electronics they could match random shield sequencing to adjust weapons to fire when the droids were most vulnerable.   In short order, two A647-B2s  took out all four artillery stations leaving the entire defense burden on highly maneuverable lightly armored smart droids. The "Green Hornet" air combat drones were the biggest obstacle preventing A647's from securing the estate. The "Hornets" took on the "Gunslingers" with classified weapons of their own that could confuse the A647's deadly targeting sensors giving the "Hornets" a chance to use their experimental phased supercharged plasma guns. The combination of highly maneuverable air and ground drones equipped with firing signatures comparable to their adversaries destroyed two out of three "Gunslingers". Ultimately, the remaining A647 used its superior adaptive air combat artificial intelligence technology to disable or destroy the "Hornets". Once inside the estate, the sole "Gunslinger" proceeded to live up to its name by methodically devastating the house and everything in it.

Time Threads #9: Gunslingers, A Brief History

"Aerial Assault of the Gunslingers"

The A647-B2 Aerial Assault and Assassination Droid, aka "The Gunslinger" was a revolutionary weapons system that combined Adaptive Artificial Intelligence or A2I  and Compact Delivery Plasma Weapons (CDPW). Heuristic Robotics, a 22nd century manufacturer of advanced artificial intelligence ordinance regularly improved the unit's weapons capability from the A1 series through the B2 series.
      The A647-A1 was developed and deployed to patrol the vast Martian wastelands for colonial law enforcement spread too thin to protect far flung settlements. It had a humanoid form factor and Active Scan Targeting technology.
The A647-A2 used a portable cold fusion Class B reactor to power its impressive array of plasma weapons, and its micro avionics propulsion system could go from zero to Mach 0.9 in  15 seconds.
      By the time the A647-B series debuted its feature set had expanded to include adaptive  human speech and behaviors, a personal force shield, and advanced hand to hand combat skills.  No wonder the A647-B was first choice for black ops and assassination missions.

The last iteration of the A647 was the B2 series. It featured a Hyper-Threaded Quantum Processor, which meant loosing the force shield or shooting it full of holes did not affect its command and control or targeting processors. Smart Gun Tactical Technology gave the A647-B2 the unique ability to see around corners, and destroy all moving or concealed targets.
Unfortunately, Heuristic Robotics famously lost all of its Beta prototypes to theft. They vanished without a trace under heavy security. It was one of the greatest unsolved cases of industrial espionage ever recorded. Without the A647-B2 the company lost its competitive edge and sold off its weapons division to a competitor.The A647 "Gunslinger"  came into the hands of the Guardian Counsel. Its time traveling agents  stole the "Gunslinger" prototypes and brought them back to the future. In truth,  most sensitive technology used by the Guardian Counsel was stolen from historically advanced human civilizations. The Counsel feared that home grown weapons development would spark an arms race that would ignite into another brutal civil war.
      For 75 years,  the Great Clan Wars raged on destroying generations and creating a huge Diaspora hiding out along the Timeline.  The Guardian Counsel was established to maintain order and enforce negotiated settlements between the waring factions. But convincing Counsel agents to set aside their clan loyalties to enforce questionable treaty infractions met with  marginal success. A dispassionate third party was needed to administer justice without regard to rank or clan affiliation. The Guardian Counsel stole civilian and military technology from any era in history to protect the common good.
As proof of its non partisan intentions, the Guardian Counsel shared all civilian technology with all clans and factions; only weapons systems were the exclusive property of the Counsel.  Soon hostilities ceased, an armistice was signed and  treaty violators were brutally surppressed.   The lethal legacy of the Gunslingers embedded itself into the collective dread of the population. Order was maintained.
       Curiously though, as the generations passed, innovation and independent technological development began to dwindle. Failing civilian and military systems were discontinued but rarely replaced. Indeed, no one sounded the alarm when the first A647-B2s  began to malfunction. It was still a formidable weapon. No one doubted the lethal capacity of its systems. So what if the A647 could no longer mimic human behavior or shoot around corners!  The Gunslinger was still the premiere tactical weapons system in the world!

Time Threads #8: Matsuka Prepares for a Fight

 "Zana-7 Revives Siobhan" May 2011

When the image of Dag Samerillyan dissolved Zana-7 attended to Siobhan still slumped in her chair.  A healthy color was returning to her cheeks though her breathing remained labored. Matsuka revived with a start. "What the hell happened?" She had a little difficulty finding her footing, but presently stood upright and spoke up in a commanding voice "Security! Report!"
A crisp, formal female voice responded throughout the room. "A deadly but unidentified process erupted from the two way. It's uncertain effects were interrupted and neutralized by your guest, Zana-7."  Matsuka turned to the alien who knelt in front of Siobhan coaxing her to sit upright .  "So you have a name... Zana-7 is it?" The alien acknowledged with a nod. "I feel so dizzy." Siobhan finally said opening her eyes while holding her head. Zana-7 placed a hand on Siobhan's forehead for several seconds. "How do you feel now?"  A bright smile lit up Siobhan's face. "Amazing! It's gone. Like it never happened! Thank you."  Siobhan felt her cheeks warm as the alien's hand caressed her own. "You are welcome, Siobhan." Matsuka and Zana-7 helped Siobhan to her feet.
"I have a thousand questions for you Zana-7, but right now we have  problems. Someone just tried to execute us, and make it look as if Captain Summerillyan was behind it. Siobhan looked frantically between both women. "This is all because of what I did this morning?"
Matsuka ignored the question and turned to the security drone mutely standing nearby. " I want all defensive forces at general quarters! Prepare the estate for imminent attack!"
"Yes, Mistress." The seven foot droid barked. In unison three nearby android soldiers ran to take their positions along the deck of the house. The translucent roof began to slide into itself revealing the brightly colored  late afternoon sky.  Shimmering points of light spread around the open space indicating a  force field was in place. Wood panels in the walls slid back revealing faceless armory droids who once activated took up  \defensive positions.
 "We need to move to a more secure part of the house! We're going to have company in a few minutes." Matsuka said braking into a jog and grabbing Siobhan by the hand. "Gunslingers?" Siobhan guessed. "Yeah. My drones can hold them off for a while, but eventually they'll take out my droids and come looking for us. Then, they'll burn the estate to the ground! Standard operating procedures. We need a good exit strategy! Any ideas?

Time Threads #7: The Assassination Attempt on Matsuka and Siobhan

     The Assassination Attempt on Matsuka and Siobhan

Matsuka's plan was to contact a trusted associate and have Siobhan and her alien moved to a safe house where they could quietly review their options; first among which was the identity and agenda of the alien.  Turning her over to the authorities might help ratchet down the growing hysteria and realign their fortunes.  The right kind of spin could even see them emerge as national heroes. Their clan rankings would certainly skyrocket!  Matsuka  mused that she could be inducted into the Order of the First Families, an honor that would certainly seal her place among the elite.  For this enterprise to succeed they needed the support of a powerful ally, someone inclined to see her interests as his own.  Dag Sammerilyan.

    Dag was Matsuka's lover.  He understood the high roller lifestyle of an A- Level Mentor.  For his part, Dag was a ranking officer of the Guardian Council, a task force set up by the First Families to enforce their will, protect the regime, and  prevent any one Family from gaining too much advantage. If anyone could be persuaded to provide cover for Matsuka and Siobhan it was Dag.

    Matsuka made contact through his secure channel. She called Siobhan to join them at the two way screen. Matsuka encouraged her to recount the events of the incident exactly as they transpired.

Afterwards, Dag assured them they had done the right thing by immediately contacting him. Together they would manage the situation, and eliminate the threat to the status quo.  He gave orders to dispatch security personnel to Matsuka's island. Once there, they would quietly escort them to a protected location, and take the alien into custody.

Matsuka and Siobhan were unaware of a peculiar transformation forming in the view screen.  Two focused beams of energy erupted from Dag's eyes enveloping their bodies in a bright amber light. They were transfixed in their seats as the light coalesced into a thick patina designed to smother them to death!

Dag seemed quite pleased with the progress of events.The process simulates death then, harmlessly dissipates minutes later; long enough to convince an observer that the target has suffocated to death. Following 1st Councilor Celestine's orders, a contingent of "gunslingers" (assassination drones) were en route to take out the house security drones, destroy Matsuka's estate and take the alien woman into custody. Everything was going to be spectacularly theatrical.

Suddenly, the death simulator began to break up in a blast of purple energy from the outstretched arm of the alien.  Gradually, the amber coating dissipated leaving Matsuka and Siobhan in a semi conscious state.

The woman approached the distorting image of Matsuka's lover.  "If you're curious as to the identity of the person who foiled your assassination I will gladly enlighten you. I am Zana-7!  And Siobhan Metalahwaggon is under my personal protection!" But the image dissolved before she could finish.

Time Threads #6 : A Threat Too Large to Ignore

"1st Councilor Celestine's Decision", June 2011

"There are only two acceptable options. Liquidate the girl and her Mentor, or have them voluntarily surrender their temporal processors through surgical extraction. In either case the alien dies." First Councilor Celestine said from the verdant plains of her estate. "You can do it remotely, then send in a team of "gunslingers" to verify and mop up. I want it to be clean and tidy, Dag!" And then she added with a visible sigh of regret, "I know she was your primary lover, and an honored, loyal citizen. But the risks are substantial to the harmony of the status quo. Siobhan Metalahwaggon is too tempting a morsel to be allowed to be at large; neither here or anywhere along the Timeline. I trust your oath to the Guardian Counsel is undiminished." Dag smiled and said, "They will submit or die, First Councilor."
Either way it was a death sentence for Dag's lover and her apprentice. Surgically removing temporal processors in adulthood meant spending the remainder of one's days in a vegetative state. The vast neural connections surrounding temporal processors were too complicated to sever without jepordy to the patient.. Cognitive functions could not survive extraction procedures.  Besides, Matsuka would never submit to that option. But what choice did she have? What choice did any of them have?
No one dified the Families and survived. Obedience to their will was absolute. As a member of the Guardian Council, Dag's first responsibility was to protect and defend the regime. All threats identified by the Families no matter how insignificant were dealt with swiftly and decisively.
The balance of power between the First Families relied upon transparency and equality. Advantages were shared equally, and threats were perceived as dangers to the common good. To allow Siobhan to live, even in exile somewhere along the Timeline was to administer an ancestral poison pill. The power of the ruling clans could be snuffed out clearing the way for some other family to rule. That prospect was the essence of anarchy. And given the peculiarities of Timeline dynamics removing certainty from the art of lineage development thrust the mind to the brink of sanity. No there had to be a third way!
         What if a convincing ruse made it appear that Siobhan, and  Matsuka were killed, and there was credible physical evidence that could hold up to scrutiny. Then, Matsuka and Siobhan could escape to a safe house down the Timeline. He had heard whisperings about a handful of controversial figures who melted into anonymous obscurity somewhere in Time. As for the alien... she would be taken into custody; interrogated by counterinsurgency drones and dissected for the benefit of science. No dodging Timeline Assassins for his woman. No looking over his shoulder for the rest of his professional career. It also meant never seeing Matsuka again! But at least he could console himself with the knowledge that somewhere, somewhen Matsuka was alive and thriving. That was an outcome worth risking everything.

Time Threads #5: The Threat

The Gathering at Iveny House

Siobhan was a little annoyed at the last minute instructions Matsuka conveyed to her about circuitous travel precautions, and misdirection in order to reach Iveny House; an atoll estate in the middle of an inland sea. Surely, Siobhan thought, recent events did not warrant these extreme exercises in tradecraft?
Upon arrival, however it was Matsuka who angrily interrogated Siobhan.
          How could she be so careless? What was she thinking? Did she truly believe that such a display of mental power would slip by unnoticed? Everyone is under surveillance!  No one had ever created such a massive time/space distortion through sheer mental projection.  And certainly no one had ever plucked an alien from across who knows how many light years to float above the ground like a circus act!  Did Siobhan believe that such a performance would go unnoticed merely because it took place in a remote area? 
Every clan spent considerable effort searching for the faintest glimmer of advantage over any rival clan. Everyone was being watched! Speculation about Siobhan Metalahwaggon went viral in minutes.   
         What were her clan connections? Why were her powers hidden until now? Were there powerful siblings in the wings? Was Matsuka training a secret cadre of mutant mentalists? Was the alien part of an advance invasion team?
Such awesome abilities had to be contained before they changed the balance of power between the Clans. Matsuka and Siobhan were in grave danger. It would be necessary to move Siobhan to a safe location along the Timeline.
Meanwhile, Matsuka needed to create a legend for the alien; something that downplayed Siobhan's abilities while suggesting a more plausible explanation for the humanoid's existence, such as, a crash landing. Her clan had influence with the Guardian Counsel. And her lover was a high level member of the Directorate! The situation was still fluid.

More from the Journal of Celestine De Lore

Entry 1069

I am like a house divided against itself!  My yoni purrs contently when she contains him, or when he speaks intimately to her with his silken tongue. But my brain whirls with questions. How is it that he plays me like a familiar instrument? How does he know how to stroke me till I'm ready to swoon? Thank the Founders I have no useful intel for him. I would tell him anything just to keep him in my bed. He is a tremendous threat that must be eliminated.  I can not allow him to compromise the Chair of the Guardian Council.  He insists he only wants to serve my interests and keep me happy. How can I be happy with my yoni in a constant state of distress? I need to end this fantasy and return alone to the Capital! I need to return to the Chair of 1st Councilor.

Entry 1088

Our afternoon trysts are the perfect anecdote to my tiresome suspicions. But my brain only shuts off when he's between my thighs or plunged to the hilt in my backside. Stars, he's big! I should leave and allow my people to wrap up their debrief. Stars, who am I kidding? They finished their work ten days ago. They're just waiting for me to wake up and pull his member out of me. Honestly, Celestine there will always be other men to play with! Let him go and let's get back to our real life.

Entry 1091

I cannot abandon him.  I need to figure a way to work him into my entourage; make him a personal adviser or something. Who am I kidding? He's supposed to be dead!

Entry 1092

What if I claim he is a fake Cenobite? Yes, my lover dresses like a Cenobite monk. If I simply come clean that he's a fraud, then the mystery becomes about the fashion statement, not the policy breach. Who he is less important than what he is, namely the first man to dress like a Cenobite monk. Founders in Heaven, imagine the scandal! He bucks protocol by wearing clothes; not just any garments, he is covered from neck to feet in black, like a Cenobite monk. It could start a fashion trend. Everyone in the Collegium will want their own imposter!  I could even have a companion female Cenobite on his other arm. They'll think it is a three way! The style watchers will have a field day. Stars Above! I could make this work.

From the Journal of Celestine DeLore

Entry 1071

The Minister is unaware of a series of long term operations run from my office against the Priory. I also have sources highly placed within the Directorate who report only to me. One of my teams in the Priory have succeeded where the Directorate has failed. They have successfully turned a highly placed monk from within the hierarchy of the Order to seek asylum under my protection.

His name is Vicar Atakani Sans Seine, the Legate of External Initiatives for the Order of the Crescent (equivalent to the Directorate's 1st Assistant of Internal Affairs).  Preliminary reports suggest he was leading stage one tests of some secret computer-aided telekinesis device that facilitates a user's ability to move heavier than air objects by thought projection. My first impression was to wonder if this intel ties into the Minister's assessments about the search for Founders Archive? I'm not above giving the Minister his due if the rumors are true.

 My assets have been quietly turning this man ever since his daughter, Melika caught the Abbot's eye and she submerged into his secret harem. Apparently, she developed trauma from latent memories of abuse breaking through to her waking mind. Melika was quietly granted a release from her vows and returned to her ancestral tribal reserve in the Badlands, (home of the Tonga Clan, a barely toilet trained collection of villagers and herdsmen). Tragically and mysteriously, Melika slit her wrists after being home for less than 72 hours; no explanations, no signs of depression. She simply walked out of her family lodge one morning and emptied her veins. The suicide was deemed by the clan elders as an act of latent black magic precipitated by her father, Vicar Atakani Sans Seine. He was expelled from the clan for practicing black magic. His family name and house were subsequently removed from all Tongan archives, and traditional narratives. Finally, a death curse was sworn out against him for an undisclosed amount payable upon proof of his death.  He is now a man without rank or clan, a walking deadman.

The trick was to get him out of the Priory and into our protection, while arranging a convincing fatality before the bounty on him could be claimed. My office leaked forensic evidence certifying the self immolated remains of a man burnt beyond recognition to be that of Vicar Atakani Sans Seine. Legate of the Order of the Crescent.

I don't mind saying this was a masterful coup for my office and for me personally. No one has ever successfully assisted the defection of a member of the Cenobite Movement, no less a ranking member of the Order of the Crescent. I eagerly anticipate the treasure trove of intel from his debriefing.

Entry 1082

I arrived late this afternoon at Havatra, my estate in the Northern Highlands. I took a very circuitous route through the Plains, and finally to the Southern Shores where our clan reserve, Mare Mons stretches along the seaside for 62 miles. From there a transport took me overland to Havatra. My body double is admirably standing in for me at Mare Mons during the 1st Councilor's extended stay freeing me to secretly continue on to Estate  Havatra, the crown of the verdant hills

.

Entry 1097

Against all tradition, our official introduction occurred in my chambers. while I bathed. I made him wait while I was a few feet away being washed by my attendants.  He respectfully sat in silence. Admittedly, this was a very old game I was playing. In the past, I have successfully used it on men whom I wished to target for favors or sex. In this special case I wanted to soften him up for my interrogators by stroking his lust and probing his weaknesses. As it happened the stratagem was unnecessary. He was mine from the outset. All too easy, or so I thought.

I emerged from my bath to find him formally dressed in his Cenobite uniform, black short sleeved tunic and matching slacks. He wore his tribal rank along his forearms and on both sides of his face. He had close cropped black hair and dark penetrating eyes. His appraisal was steady, not a leer but long and appreciative. I would call Round One, a draw.

In response, I decided to forego the elaborately decorative body insignias for 1st Councilor Chair, and member of the Guardian Council, in favor of my simpler tribal insignias along my arms and legs and full frontal clan crests covering my chest to my waist.  I wore my hair up with traditional ancestral jewels. My mouth was painted bright crimson, as too my large labia. I  wore amber and gold eye contacts with dark bouillon eye liner, but otherwise no further make up.. My attendants applied an intoxicating mix of light floral scents that complemented the natural flora of the estate gardens.  I was in a word, magnificent. Round Two, definitely mine.

We sat across from each other at a small circular table set with traditional welcome ceremony porcelain cups and a tea service attended by house servants in formal ware. He tried to mask his awe behind a serene demeanor, but I knew he was deeply moved. After all, here was a man without standing or rank. By rights, he should have been barred from entering the residence, no less the toilette of the ranking tribeswoman of Clan DeLore, and 1st Councilor of the Union. Such a spread as this was commonly reserved for  clan leaders of comparable rank, not political nobodies. Round Three, me again.

Here things began an unanticipated turn. I found myself taken by his dark serenity. He was humble but not broken. When he should have been putty in my hands he allowed his gaze to take the measure of me; pausing long enough in the proper places to offer a silent challenge to my dominance.  And when our eyes met as we sipped tea, or casually brushed hands, my faithless yoni, (the tireless hussey)  broke ranks and unrelentingly drooled. Despite, the mild, afternoon sun my nipples proudly declared their independence and hardened into tall battlements ready to fly the banners of surrender a top my swelling breasts. I found myself uncomfortably shifting my body weight to distract myself from the rebellion going on within me. Stars protect me, I could not sit still. Round Four, assuredly his.

The conversation was filled with predictable pleasantries: The retelling of his perilous journey; his gratitude for my unparalleled kindness; his compliments on my incomparable taste. He was especially impressed with the level of respect shown to a man without rank or clan.  He pledged to be the soul of cooperation, holding back nothing; guileless and candid. I wanted to gobble him up.  Game. (I am undone!)

Entry 1048

Akatani means the heart of a poet,  and he is surely that. My interrogators report he was thoroughly forthcoming. He has forced us to rewrite our assessments about the Order and its function.

For me his most disturbing revelations concern a long term, secret operation between an obscure organ of government, the Office of Manufacturing and Distribution Assessments (no one is even sure under whose jurisdiction it is), and the Order of the Crescent to build and deploy a Space/Time SLED (Super Luminal Energy Displacement) accelerator. In brief, it creates  an industrial sized wormhole that will connect any two points in the Universe. With it we have been engaged in clandestine exploration of alien civilizations, and from time to time industrial espionage of sensitive technologies.

And how did we get our hands on such a device which is centuries beyond our capability? The Founders Archive. It's not a single object or place, but a series of advanced mathematical formulae that the Order has been deciphering for thirty five years. So much for the vaunted intelligence apparatus of the Directorate, please! 

Time Threads #4: God Power

 

"The Woman Who Fell From the Sky",  April 2011

The timeline maiden voyages were a cause for great fanfare and public celebrations.  The complex calculations of personal status, and family rank owed much to the event. Even a mentor's reputation was susceptible to the whims of a public performance.  Matsuka, Siobhan's mentor was recognized as a talented newcomer. Powerful families supported her ascendancy, and vied for the chance to have their child come under her tutelage.  Siobhan's family had once been a name to reckon with, but ill fortune and changing political winds stranded them on the margins of influence.  Why Masuka chose a  relative "nobody" to be her apprentice signaled to many an ego out of control, and the death knell of a stellar career.  Bound by the honor debt Siobhan was determined to perform with distinction, and vindicate Matsuka's gamble.
But as the days wound down to their final hours, Siobhan's confidence began to falter. The sense of well being she wore like a new skin peeled away layer by layer. She continued to be plagued by the same set of dreams that badgered her thoughts and forestalled sleep.  They drove her from bed to seek refuge in a chilly stream near the edge of the Compound. "I must not fail!"  But Matsuka counseled her to take risks! Stretch her imagination during practice!  Forget about the dreams and apparitions of recent days. Bending space/time was the ultimate experience of power and pleasure.  Be a goddess! Be invincible! Matsuka also assigned one of her personal security drones to accompany Siobhan until the ceremony. It would be foolhardy to underestimate the lengths to which some families worked to assure their children's success. 

     Siobhan cleared her mind and felt herself sink into the soft clay of the stream bed.  She raised her hands waist high, palms inward, and exhaled. A burst of white light materialized midway between her hands followed by filaments like liquid glass that spun and coalesced into a containment orb. The orb expanded and lost its rigidity. It began to wobble and liquefy like a soap bubble transforming itself first into a sparkling parabola and then into a glistening ellipse.  Siobhan willed the ball of white energy at the center of the field to snake out into the changing patterns to create concentric ripples of space/time.
Suddenly,  a few hundred feet above them a flash of light broke the night sky and a woman appeared.  Only this time, it was not an apparition! She was real and her physicality had but precious seconds before it splattered on the ground. The drone saw her too, but it was helpless to intervene. With a small part of her mind, Siobhan touched the falling mass of the woman; and  arrested her descent.  The unconscious alien female gently bobbed in the air.
The fabric of space/time continued to expand and contract, a servant to her will. There were no bounds to Siobhan's ability! She could levitate the drone, spin the floating female like a top! She could flex the flow of Time itself, and use it as a play thing. Then there was the sense of pleasure! It radiated caressing fingers across her breasts and sex. She closed her eyes, and arched her back. "Now, complete your pleasure! Step into the timeline, and bring everything with you!"  The sting of a sharp slap broke her concentration, and snapped her eyes wide open. Breathing rapidly she carefully dissolved the portal, and collapsed the containment orb into a tiny ball of light that twinkled for a few seconds, and winked out of sight.  The warmth of her pleasure lingered over her like a clinging lover reluctant to separate.  She guided the floating alien body into the arms of the drone, and without a moment's hesitation dove into the cold waters of the stream.
Siobhan emerged clear headed and alert.  She ordered the drone to transport his charge to Matsuka where she would follow directly.
Of course, it was her mentor who pulled Siobhan back from certain calamity. She shuddered to think of the destructive consequences had she gone through with her actions.  How could she have been so stupid? Who else sensed her foolish revelry?  Many of her competitors would openly exalt at any hint of a personal misstep. Had she inadvertently aided Matsuka's downfall?
And how could the humanoid be real? How could an apprentice by mere thought command the power of creation?

Time Threads #3: From the Journal of Celestine DeLore

Celestine and Atakami

Entry 507

The House of DeLore has always produced strong women who were comfortable in the company of powerful men. My great, great grandmother Alsatia  DeLore was a soldier in the Black Dagger Corps during the Great Clan War. And in the early years of consolidation when the Alliance used death squads to subdue pockets of continued resistance, she was known as "Black Kali, the Kiss of Death". She was merciless in pursuit of order among the Families. Some called her a "monster" because she recognized that children can grow up to be surprisingly relentless agents of vengeance. Therefore, the liquidation of entire families can be a necessary action to pre-empt endless revenge killings. People need to believe in the efficacy of a well placed threat. They need to whole heartedly embrace the suggestion of consequences is a step away from the fact of consequences. This connection can be achieved only after the suggestion has been linked to the memory of vividly painful events. Then, (predictably) dread, sorrow, fear and horror will claw at the raw tissue of the soul with sickening purpose . Alsatia De Lore handed down this truth of governance to my maternal ancestors. And I, Celestine DeLore, the youngest woman in our clan to serve as 1st Councilor,  will heed her counsel and stand ready to act for the good of the Union.

Entry 676

I don't believe in love. I believe in passion. I believe in delirium. And I especially believe in the political usefulness of targeted sex. As my great, great ancestor said, Between the yoni and the gun lies the pulse of humanity.  Some have secretly derided me as carnivorous, that is an exaggeration. Yes, I have seduced and subdued my way into the Collegium. What of it? Scores have done the same. Through guile, the tactical application of force, and strategic couplings I have leaped over my seniors to rotate into the 1st Councilor's Chair.  I have taken the oath and I will protect the interests of the House and Clan DeLore; and I will defend the Union of the Families at all costs.  My yoni is willing and my gun is loaded.

Entry 1070

The Director of Public Safety met with the Collegium today. He is convinced of the accuracy of a piece of classified intel regarding an initiative brewing in the Order of the Crescent, the clandestine section of the Priory. The Minister believes that the search for the Founder's Archive by the Order could prove to be a profound security threat to the Regime; though he is uncharacteristically vague when pressed to suggest the exact nature of this threat. He has requested authorization to initiate intensified penetration operations by the Directorate's Office of Internal Affairs, our secret police. I wanted to laugh out loud, but I held my tongue.  The Minister sees conspiracies around every corner and in every toilet. My sources speak a very different tale about a growing internal riff within the Cenobite Movement over sexual abuses perpetrated by Abbot.

The Abbot is a cagey little fraud, but a very cunning leader of a quasi religious movement that is strangely popular with the clans.  He pretends to seek spiritual truths, but his dark predilections are less tightly contained.  My sources whisper about bloody sheets and cries of terror from nubile postulants under assault from the Abbot's unbridled pedophilia. Incredibly, the girls injuries disappear within a matter of hours, and so too the mental trauma associated with the attacks. Anal tearing gone! Vaginal abrasions healed! And all memories of the incidents erased. The Abbot is free to repeat his assaults without recriminations, regrets or culpability.  Before and after vu images were smuggled out of the Priory and delivered to my office. When I privately suggested to the Minister that it might be more advantageous to his inquiries if he helped to intensify divisions within the Movement he dismissed my sources at best as rumormongers or worse, coconspirators in a calculated disinformation campaign.  If  the Directorate  prematurely shows it's hand it could precipitate a purge within the Priory that would destroy any ongoing operations. He went on to say, if a real power struggle is afoot for the Office of Abbot  let it proceed so we can more actively identify winners and losers.  We should otherwise wait and see if this is merely scattered discontent or incipient rebellion.  Meanwhile, he insists our collective interests lie in ferreting out the aims and progress of the pursuit of the Founder's Archive.

 Why is the Minister interested in pursuing this children's tale about the Founder's Archive?  Next he'll have us looking for the Sentinel, the ghost who lives among us. The Founder who remained and waits till the day of our greatest need,  when he will emerge to open the Archive and lead us back to the stars. Utter nonsense.

 A question occurs to me: What if the Minister is an embedded agent for the Priory? That would explain our reluctance to really penetrate the movement. It also explains why most of the Directorate's operations against the Cenobites become compromised almost before they get started.  My sources say the Priory has been successfully sowing suspision in the Directorate leading to internal purges in the for years. Every time an effective adversary of the Priory ascends to leadership positions within the Directorate he or she is inevitably purged, demoted or sent chasing rumors in toothless operations. Who stands to gain from our intelligence gathering paralysis? 

Time Threads #2: The Apparition

The last days of apprenticeship were fraught with disturbing visions for Siobhan Metalahwaggon. The Coming of Age Dream was only the beginning.

At night, she dreamed of an alien humanoid woman.  She had a penetrating stare with piercing purple eyes.. Yet Siobhan did not feel threatened by her. She was a striking creature: purple skin, a generous mouth, dark purple shoulder length hair. She had a powerful athletic physique. Her upper body was well defined without being grotesque. She stood close to seven feet tall, an incredible physical specimen. She clearly was not from the neighborhood. .

Suddenly. the alien dream was replaced by an encounter with Siobhan’s identical twin (even though she was an only child). When they looked upon each other they experienced a pulsing, erotic warmth that began in the chest and settled in the sex. Siobhan 2 reached to caress Siobhan and their hands met mid gesture, skin to skin; touch to touch; the tension climaxing in a passionate kiss that left her wet and breathlessly awake. The heat of the encounter dissipated leaving Siobhan confused and embarrassed.  

                           When Siobhan met with her mentor, Matsuka she skipped any mention of the alien woman or the erotic self-encounter. Instead, she sought counsel about the falling woman. Matsuka had programmed the SLEDD to simulate an imaginary location, a carousel house on a pier overlooking a beautiful bay at the edge of a sparkling city. They materialized under Observation Mode so that the local computer generated people would ignore them. After listening to the details of the dream Matsuka explained that the falling woman could be a manifestation of the precognitive aspects of their training. Matsuka prompted Siobhan to remember any other dreams of this nature.Reluctantly, she shared the alien, and the sexual embrace dreams. Matsuka assured her that the Sphere apparition and the dreams were all connected. A woman of unknown origins would become associated with Siobhan in the very near future! 

Time Threads #1: The Coming of Age Dream

In the final months of her apprenticeship, Siobhan had a prophetic dream that all apprentices must experience before embarking on their first solo time sail. It is called, The Coming of Age Dream, and everyone anticipates its arrival. Yet Siobhan was reluctant to relate the dream to her mentor. Dark images filled her with foreboding. Was her dream a portend of torture or death? Did it represent irrevocable disaster? Thinking about the dream only confused her. Finally, the anguish of silence became so overwhelming that Siobhan told Matsuka her dream. This is what she revealed:
"It is twilight at the edge of an empty landscape. I am a giantess, perhaps 12 feet tall, maybe more. I wade through the middle of a small river that opens to a vast lake. I can see another tributary emptying into the same lake. A great flood has washed away everything in its wake. There are no signs of human activity; no animals, birds, trees or flora. Patches of lichen begin to emerge from the clay. Suddenly out of the haze of the adjoining tributary float a line of four large paintings. They are portraits of girls who are either related to me, or perhaps they are me. The paintings sail in a self propelled flotilla of objects pitched slightly skyward as if drawing power from the dimming twilight. I am riveted in place as the floating salon presents its offerings:
The first painting shows the face of a demurely smiling girl surrounded by a corona of flower fragments and machine parts.
In close pursuit is the second painting: A woman throws up her hands in terror. I cannot see what torments her. She is dwarfed by the imposing shadows of two towering highways. Her eyes bulge in horror. Arching above the scene are neon letters that read, "See the Light!"
In the third painting a woman is tied face down to a rack. Her feet are untethered.  Long cuts from a lash mark her back and buttocks. She raises her head and twists her body to see the face of her tormentor. A half human creature prepares to strike again. Two impassive men look on; one is a shaman, and the other is a costumed superhero.
In the distance emerging through the haze is the fourth painting, a towering vertical panel depicting fragments of heroic women's heads bathed in rays of light from a stigmatic ebony hand.
I turn away from the paintings frightened and confused by what they might mean.  I discover a solitary canvas remains beached face up on the banks of the river. Its point of view looks down on the head of a girl's face emerging like exhaust from a motor vehicle moving very fast through a wash of rain water on asphalt. Her three quarter profile is turned towards the green patina of a bronze water nymph. Its hands are locked behind its up tilted head. The arch of its body is provocative, an invitation. Its smile anticipates a moment of total abandon. A warning punctuates the bottom of the composition in large red letters, "DANGER!" "

Time Threads: Temporal Mechanics

Human beings use only 10 to 15% of their total brain capacity. In the Academy, the super secret program to teach space/time projection through mental energy amplified by a Space/Time SLEDD (Super Luminal Energy Displacement Device. more than 98% of the brain's higher functions are used to project chronal energy. Training the mind to harness the complex forces of  space/time is an ability that does not come naturally.; Sub-cortical nano implants are required to turbo boost higher brain functions.to assist the quantum processors surgically implanted into the cerebral cortex.   . Enhanced psychokinetic abilities e.g. targeting objects without physical coordinates, or acquiring target accuracy by imagining the correct destination; or hyper-telekinesis, moving objects forward into the time stream and retrieving it like a mind controlled boomerang were major abilities necessary to advance to proficient and be allowed to make a solo run.. Advanced training also had martial components:  temporal jujitsu, the ability to throw an opponent anywhere in space/ time; alter reality in a subject’s mind, form a force field and reshape matter as a tactical defensive or offensive weapon.. Take together the full array of capabilities was collectively known as Temporal Mechanics.

                           The rubric to demonstrate mastery of Temporal Mechanics  was the ability to draw a perfect sphere of energy using only one’s mind; expand it and teleport yourself safely into the near future. Then, return within seconds holding an object pre-placed at the destination. It was a skill that required deep concentration. Siobhan found the early hours before dawn to be her optimal time to practice.  No one in her class of five had achieved the ability to draw the sphere without assistance from a SLEDD. 

          Once training was complete, the Office of Manufacturing and Distribution Assessments (OMDA) sanctioned commercial espionage through established  timelines. OMDA was an obscure and very secret department technically under the 1^st Councilor of the Guardian Council, but  administered by the Office of Internal Affairs, the secret police. .No one in the 1st Councilor's office had the vaguest inkling of the agency's existence or if they did where it could be found.