THE STORY SO FAR: As a consequence of a tumultuous and involuntary merging of minds, Staute now finds himself permanently bound for better or worse to a super being from another age; as well as host to a mysterious entity seemingly of alien origin. The process has taken him to his limits of endurance mentally, physically, and emotionally. Staute is also learning much about his new mate's civilization.

So we sat together and talked about nuclear physics and other things for a few hours. Me in the buff, Sym in her silken panties. Whenever my ardor threatened to arise again, it was defeated by Sym's intellect, as before. And so the technological sorceress skillfully managed to avoid losing her real virginity (from my 20th century perspective) for a little while longer.

Don't misunderstand. Mentally, I'd already experienced enough ecstasy to last me quite a while in direct link. So there wasn't really that powerful an itch from any psychological need. Not directly, anyway.

The thing was, I wasn't going to be here forever; I was sure I'd have to go home eventually. So Sym and I had only a short amount of Realtime we could spend with each other. In direct link though, there were tricks to expand this.

By far the easiest way would have been to copy my total consciousness into Fance, where I could party hardy with Sym for what would feel like years, then replace the original consciousness still in my body with the one from Fance.

But the same thing which got me and Sym together in the first place also stymied the possibility of us living a virtual lifetime in Fance together while we had the chance. For Sym simply couldn't allow such an entity as Ovizatataron to enter Fance. It was dangerous. Ovizatataron had displayed an uncanny knack for exploiting Sol connections, and allowing him into Fance could have calamitous consequences for the whole race.

I learned that Sym had actually tried copying me into Fance at the very beginning of my visit to Thantia: much like an office worker automatically making a copy of a significant document before possible markups.

But the copy had been ruined. Apparently by Ovizatataron himself, somehow. Fortunately for Fance. Unfortunately for me, since that helped prove I couldn't be allowed in.

Ovizatataron was also far too well hidden in my neural net for Sol tech to excise, even if they wanted to.

But Ovizatataron was safe anyway. For no way would the Sol deign to mess with an obviously important element from the mind of a historically significant figure like the Signposts author himself.

After all, this anomalous element of mine might be the driving force behind what I'd done in the twenty-first century. Whether my deeds had been beneficial or detrimental was not important; just the fact they had exerted a detectable influence on events downline made it important they remain inviolate from tampering.

On the highly objective scale used by the Sol to judge such matters, I was almost as important as Hitler himself. Seriously. In direct link with Sym I actually beheld a chart once which ranked figures of history according to their known and theorized effects on the timeline. There was my name, not far below Hitler's own.

Yeah, it was enough to make me wince too. But like I said, good or bad mattered not one bit in this particular comparison, by the folks of this period. If you made an impact on history, whether it was by killing ten million people, or saving ten million, it was all the same to the authorities of the Sol Realtime.

Today Sym was giving me a tour of her home. The Realtime part of it anyway. For normally she spent most of her time in Fance, the virtual civilization set up by the Sol which connected all the far flung settlements of humanity and its child races, except for two: the lost Far Colonies, and the estranged inorganics. Apparently most pure inorganics like Arbitur and Riki of the Pagnew (purely machine-based sentients, with zero trace of any biological legacy patterns in their circuitry and/or algorithms) had split off from humn civilization since Ling's origin.

I was learning more about Sym and her people all the time. It was around this period I learned a bit more about the Sol purposes in keeping some corporeal forms about, despite their uselessness for much of daily Sol life. Turned out it was primarily for backup. Because Fance still suffered occasionally from disruptions. The last major one had been more than a hundred years ago in Realtime, but for a race of immortals a single century was regarded as inadequate to signify reliability.

Other reasons were diversification, acquisition, and application: they needed the individual physical bodies for unexpected contingencies beyond the possible disruption of Fance. And also for continued data acquisition in Realtime, with which to further perfect their universe model in Fance. Finally, they needed media with which to modify the Realtime environment when it was found necessary or desirable. This meant having physical agents available in Realtime.

In the far past, inorganics had borne the brunt of these last two duties. But a steady increase in friction between organics and inorganics had finally brought that era to an end. Organics and inorganics had parted ways. Or sort of, anyway. There were still robots a plenty in use by the Sol and Colonists, but by treaty humanity and other organics had to direct the mechanisms with bits of their own consciousnesses. Any robotic forms with independent awareness beyond a certain level automatically became free inorganic citizens after they'd worked off a reasonable estimate of their cost of construction and development. And had to be provided free transport to the region settled by the inorganics, if that was what they desired. Most did.

This arrangement between organics and inorganics had come about only after some nasty conflicts between the two parties.

The pact had forced humanity and its other child races to merge more fully with their own technology, or else risk extinction, or perhaps worse. For inorganic life had grown to be the full equal of its biological parents.

And evolution proved still to be relevant, even in superconducting nano-scale circuitry.

Thantia was primarily one room. One room, big enough to hold New York City of the 20th century, it appeared.

Thantia was a Sol herself, I'd been amazed to learn earlier. But no ordinary Sol. It turned out Thantia had served as a Tribunal herself in decades past.

Thantia was a fairly old Sol. Not an Exper, but close to it. She was at present classified as a research entity, with free agent status. And like the Pagnew, Thantia possessed inter-dimensional shifting capabilities(!)

In the Sol Realtime, this was about as much power and freedom as any individual could ever dream of getting.

Thantia was fairly cautious, however. For example, she'd only shifted through superspace a handful of times. Symantici, though qualified to accompany her, had never yet done so: Sym was still studying the issues involved.

Naturally!

Thantia was more fluid than the Pagnew; she could completely reconfigure herself from stem to stern, very quickly. By comparison, the Pagnew was as static and unchanging as a rock.

It interested me to learn the reason for the difference wasn't the physical technology involved; for both vessels used very similar nano-technology based platforms.

No, the main difference was in brute processing power. Thantia could simply think bigger, more complex thoughts-- and think them faster-- than Arbitur could ever hope to. Thantia's ability to radically change her entire design and layout almost instantaneously required such immense brain power.

All the floating sculpture inside Thantia turned out to be to her what my own internal organs were to me: modular components that performed various sub-tasks inside her.

What had ever possessed Thantia to become a star-faring vessel? I'd asked her. Her answer was surprisingly simple and straightforward.

*When you were...younger...a child among your people, did you ever wish to be an adult?*

*Yes. Of course,* I'd answered.

*Why?*

*For the freedom. So I could do more things. Have more control over my life, I guess.*

*My reasons for assuming my present form were similar.*

*Eh? I don't understand.*

*I craved freedom. I wanted the ability to explore more of the superverse than I could in my Issuance form. I also desired a greater expansion of consciousness.*

*A greater expansion of consciousness?*

*Yes.*

*But wouldn't being a ship prevent expansion of consciousness?*

*You are amusing, Conceptor.*

*Conceptor? What's that?*

*It is a contemporary honorific denoting original thinkers. You generated certain ideas long before they were fully feasible. This made of you a Conceptor.*

*Oh. I guess.* I still felt uncomfortable with mantles of greatness that didn't fit. *But what about your consciousness? Doesn't being a ship restrict you?*

*I am R-38 Reach Class, Conceptor.*

*What does that mean?*

*That I am of the most capable order of entities coalesced in Realtime by humn means, to this date.*

I tight beamed to Sym, who was sitting next to me; a communication analogous to a whisper.

*I still don't know what this means,* I indicated to Sym Thantia's last words for reference.

To my discomfort, Sym replied aloud over the net.

*It means Thantia possesses a consciousness equivalent to nearly one percent of all the states of Fance.*

*One percent? Is that a lot?*

Sym's pearly eyebrows both raised in mock-human surprise.

*It is...a very lot. More processing power than all of humn and its works combined possessed, as late as the twenty-sixth century.*

My ignorance must still have showed in my face.

*I would suggest you briefly link with Thantia to better comprehend her status. But I am unsure if we could prevent the act from irreparably damaging you.*

*Oh no! That's okay! Really! I'll take your word for it.* I figured it wise to change the subject.

*Umm, just out of curiosity Thantia, what's some of your favorite hobbies?* What indeed would a god of gods find interesting? For that appeared to be Thantia's status from my own viewpoint; the regular Sol like Sym possessed God-like powers, compared to old geezers like myself; yet Sym and her like seemed to regard Thantia as existing on a much higher plane still.

*My most favored pursuits often change so rapidly, most examples I gave you would be obsolete before you received the last syllable from your node. But I can provide samples of past undertakings; I will attempt to find something with which you might be acquainted from your own time...

*One was the compilation and analysis of similarities in certain transcendental numbers between the three hundred trillionth and three hundred and thirty-five trillionth decimal places. With these correlations I formulated my own quaternary theorem of recursive values, which Gustav Taroff used to finalize the link between fractal geometry and the tendency of priori elementaries to set up entropy 'pipelines', which open the way for rudimentary dissipative structures. This phenomenon plays an important role in the development of all life both organic and inorganic, and its supporting environment.*

*Uh, yeah, I guess so. Um, I'm sorry Thantia, but that's all way over my head. I hope you'll forgive me for being a dummy from the twentieth century: but Ling and the crew grabbed me before I'd even finished college.*

*Don't be uncomfortable, Conceptor. I too will doubtless feel limited in any encounter with intelligence more than 800 years beyond my own in development. But in that hypothetical encounter, will I be able to claim I was the first to conceptualize the technology which likely conveyed me to such a meeting? It is doubtful. No, it is probable I would have to say I was only there by the courtesy of one calling himself G.W. Staute, in the twenty-first century AD, Old Earth calendar.*

Thantia's carefully crafted statement to sooth my feelings of inadequacy had a strong effect on me. My eyes filled with tears, though I was uncertain as to why.

*Um, thanks Thantia. I needed that.*

I hated to spoil the moment by correcting her: by refuting her belief in me. So I didn't.

It was enough to know Sym herself knew my thoughts on that point from our links. I'd just leave it to her to tell Thantia later, when I was gone.

Though Thantia was impressive, Ishtal Seven Markam was even more so. Ishtal was the cloud I'd seen in space, in the distance beyond Thantia. Ishtal was the local center of Colonist population.

Ninety-five percent of Ishtal was a gas torus, which the Colonists used as a raw materials store. A constant stream of gaseous mass was always arriving from other systems to maintain the store in the torus. The stream came from a vast infrastructure system which surveyed, captured, processed, and shipped off the raw mass stream produced from the comets and asteroids of systems deemed best broken up rather than colonized.

Ishtal's location had been chosen precisely because it enjoyed a cluster of nearby systems suitable for such exploitation.

A handy byproduct of the gas streams were they also functioned as fuel wakeways for vessels suitably equipped to survive their coarseness.

What were wakeways? Basically a trail of bread crumbs for spacecraft utilizing ion drives to collect and burn along the way, so refueling needs were kept to a minimum. Way, way back in history (but still after my 20th century time) humanity had harnessed comets with automated systems to mine and eject icy mass from their bodies in such a way that the comets would follow a particular course in space by way of Newtonian reaction, and the resulting trail of vapor would feed ion drive craft which followed behind some time later. It was a neat way to get past some of the early hurdles to long distance space travel.

Symantici told me Ishtal was a standard modern colonial set up; one of several similar installations distributed about this Realtime. Ishtal type settlements were relatively new however, and so represented only a tiny percentage of all the humn civilizational nodes in this Realtime.

The present status of the inorganic spinoff civilization was not widely known among the organics. But Sym was able to tell me it was comparable to that of the colonists. Apparently the inorganics emulated much of humn civilization in order to fill the large gaps still existing from their own very recent beginnings as a separate culture. They had little of their own history or customs on which to base ongoing progress or expansion, and so derived much from the humn to fill in the blanks until they did-- just as other Child races like the chimpanzees and dolphins had done before them.

I was apparently unusually subdued when Symantici returned from an absence of a couple of hours. I was just sitting on a couch inside Thantia, contemplating things.

Sym came up from behind and surprised me with an invisible (but physical) caress. Via her buffer field, of course.

*What?* I started and stood up.

Sym smiled at me as she came into view, floating at an angle above my position. I could have floated around a lot of the time too, I suppose, if I'd wanted: buffer fields were readily available on demand here. But it just seemed too silly to me for casual use. Sort of like dancing in public; or flitting about like a fairy. Ugh! Sure, it looked great on Sym; but it just wasn't for me.

*Don't be alarmed, Jerry. It's only my buffer field.*

*It felt like...you touched me.*

*I did. For me it is more...instinctual...and convenient...to probe with my field, than the new appendages to my physical form. Your own lack of vector remotes continues to vex me.*

*Symantici, do you miss me in Fance?*

*Yes.*

*Sym, I-- I miss you terribly. When we're not in direct link, I mean. You don't have to drop your shield: forget that. I don't care if it will kill me: I love you.*

The thoughts had spewed out of me before I could stop them. I missed Sym and the link terribly. I truly didn't care any more about her shield; the repeated and prolonged effects of being disconnected from her were simply too powerful: those parts of me which could survive without it seemed to all be either dead or dying already. So it seemed little use to try to preserve or protect them any longer.

Sym regarded me for a moment. Then she moved closer, descending to stand before me, and brought her hands up to my face.

And I combination fell/leaped into direct link with her. Sym's thoughts immediately suffused throughout my own.

*I have thought much about this matter Jerry. In some ways I have far more to lose than you, my dear primal humn. It may be that I could put off discontinuity indefinitely; my present environment is rich and deep in contingency algorithms.

*Yet contact brings with it the greatest possible potential for points of divergence from the norm-- for the actual need to call upon these contingency resources. And there is always a small probability these reserves will not be applicable to the problems which might arise; that some new phenomenon will be encountered; that I will find myself a test case; a precedent: this is a great fear for a Sol. For a minimum of twenty-seven percent of such afflicted members eventually meet with discontinuity: involuntary and permanent cessation of consciousness.

*But the energies, the interests, the ideas you spark within me! They make me...thirst for more.

*In some ways my new perceptions border on blasphemy-- to use an idea from your time. But they are so...unusual. In all my experience I have not encountered a more...satisfying...process.

*You have induced me to consider new possibilities...perhaps it is not optimal to be so safe as the Sol are now. The Store contains records of the Mind Wars which greatly affected all the humn. For a time during that period, it appeared only one race would survive: the inorganics.

*The better fates of the humn suffered many defeats in the Wars. But when the danger was at its greatest, new resources suddenly appeared in our midst; new leaders, new ideas.

*I think now that perhaps the humn may never know the full extent of its potential, except in time of risk and struggle.

*I struggle now with the dilemma of you, my ancient artifact from a bygone age.

*I struggle with the risk your contact brings with it. But also with the rewards I have tasted in link with you. And the restrictions of the law, and the shift physics that prohibit your staying here, or undergoing certain modifications for the sake of improvements to our joinings.

*You face a destiny of certain discontinuity; in this there is no doubt. Upon your return, you will experience a few more decades of Realtime, and then abruptly cease to be. How you face this inescapable doom with such aplomb-- and at times even eagerness!-- is beyond me. To my perceptions, your origin in the dawn of humn civilization is an age of heroes; for how else could you and your adjoining generations achieve what you did, knowing full well you would never live to enjoy the fruits of your labors? For us. It seems you did it all for us. Your children, and children's children. So that we might be free of the many horrors which plagued you so. That we might live long enough-- and well enough-- to enjoy a reality sculpted by your own dreams of what could be: what should be.

*And now here I am, in what must surely be among the most bizarre convolutions of probabilities in recorded history, face to face with you: you, who are a living example of those who fought back the demons of our kind's childhood. One who faced certain discontinuity not paralyzed in fear, but rather moving in active defiance of it. One who broke through the prison walls of our inexperience and ignorance of the world around us, to set free all those who would follow you. One who did this, knowing full well he would never taste the ripened fruit of his labors.

*Now you have asked of me a sacrifice. Asked me, who has enjoyed all the benefits of your struggles from so long ago, for the aid that a small act on my part could provide you.

*And what is my answer? I am afraid! Afraid to taste even the slightest possibility of what you most surely ultimately will: a cessation so complete, that not a single node of persona will remain.

*I am afraid! Afraid of the smallest risk; of the slightest pain.

*I am paralyzed by my fear. Unable to make a decision either way, despite the restoration to full Triad that-- again!-- you yourself have given me. I seem more willing to allow the passage of time to make such a decision moot, than face its challenge.

*But where would humn be, if all its members did the same as I?

*Where would humn be, if Quense Delqurk had not stepped forward at the darkest moment of the Mind Wars?

*Where would humn be, if Chung Se-Yung had not confronted his own madness?

*Where would humn be, if G.W. Staute had not written of shifting technology when he did? If the humn had not been widely dispersed when the first moves towards Peer Proof were taken by the inorganics?

*If still centralized in Sol system at the time, all humn might have been wiped out by the inorganics. Or subjugated.

*Thinking upon all this has made me feel...ashamed. And a...closed system.

*What will become of me Jerry, if I never find the courage to step beyond the protection I enjoy? What future will I experience, if I never dare to step off the charted course?

*Is safety the greatest value? Greater than learning? Greater than loving? Greater than living?

*If it is, then what is the ultimate manifestation of safety, once it has been gained? A rigid status quo. Absolute lack of change. Seamless, unchallenged continuity and conformity.

*And where may such seamless continuity be found in the natural order? What entities have enjoyed the longest stretches of unbroken changelessness in the known superverse?

*Not the stars: beautiful and powerful as they are, eventually they burn out. They are born and they die, in much the same fashion as people of your own origin, albeit on a different time scale.

*The planets? No: they suffer still more change than the stars. And usually a shorter life, due to vulnerability to many more factors in the cosmic dance.

*Singularities? No. These imploded clusters of matter and energy endure some of the greatest amounts of flux of any known body. Many actually falling out of one Realtime into another.

*No, the greatest continuity is found in those bodies with the least interaction involving other Realtime elements: the fewest contacts and encounters with other bodies, much like the state of modern Sol. I.e., if the body in question acts essentially as an idealized 'closed system'. The ultimate such steady-state apparatus would coalesce from the fiery beginnings of a universe, and thereafter lead a very sedate existence far removed from any changing circumstances whatsoever, such as the development of life or intelligence-- or even physical movement itself.

*Therefore I have realized my ultimate goal and dream has been up to now to become an inert, lifeless particle of matter, drifting aimlessly in the void. Sufficiently distant from any possible flux that I might never be affected by it-- or it by me.*

I didn't know what to say to her; but what she described seemed an appalling existence. Surely she realized this? If not, she was more utterly alien from me than I could ever hope to bridge.

Sym continued her monologue.

*I realize now that life requires change, and change requires risk.

*I may ultimately die from our contact. Most probably, I won't. But the risk will be there. And it might remove me forever from my present orbit on the outer fringes of life, exposing me much more to the change I have always sought so desperately to avoid.

*I have told you that you were I, and I you; but only in contact can this truly be.

*Only with contact will I walk with you along the edge of death, and feel what you feel, know what you know.

*In link I observe these aspects, but I do not truly know them; for they are irrelevant, unconnected, to my steady-state existence.

*Make love to me, Jerry Staute. Touch me. And reconnect me with the universe I have never truly known.*

Sym guided me into the strange region of the link where reality overlapped our virtual liaison in an eerie double exposure sort of way. Here the world was a misty three dimensional image of Symantici's face looking into mine. We both remained physically in the same positions we'd occupied prior to the link.

Our virtual selves were already united, revolving about a common axis, savoring a completeness which could never be known by a lone mind. The experience could not even be remembered properly after the link was over. For a single mind could not retain the complete experience, or perhaps could not believe it to have really happened. After disconnect, such memories of wholeness would evaporate like dreams upon awaking.

In the link, Sym and I danced in and around and through each other with a grace and joy which could never exist in Realtime. Gentle waves of sensation washed over us, eliciting happiness of the sort that brings tears to one's eyes in physical reality. Only in the link, the tears flowed continuously.

We watched as we moved our misty Realtime limbs about each other's forms.

On this day, Symantici was wearing a flowing black gown, with subtle dark gray patterns woven throughout.

It fit her snugly about her bosom, but hung loosely from just beneath it, in a full length drop that swept across the floor, covering her feet.

Fancy head gear seeming to consist mostly of a tiny glittering chain framed her face, and directed her hair into a spectacular cascade about her shoulders and back.

Sym had changed her hair yet again: it now consisted of flat, glistening straps, each about a quarter inch wide, and all the color of platinum.

Though her shoulders were bare, the remaining lengths of her arms were covered in sleeves matching her dress. The sleeves weren't attached to the dress though. Her fingers poked through holes at the end of the sleeves. So the cloth covered the palms and backs of her hands. Like clothing from Medieval times for aristocratic women, maybe?

Her metallic hair sparkled as she moved.

Sym's hands remained clasped on either side of my face, as I reached around to the back of her garment. To the place where I knew was the disrobing key. As Symantici, I had purposely designed in the key for just this circumstance. As Jerry, I was gratified by Sym's foresight.

Her gown split completely down the center of her back, and I unwrapped it from around her lovely form. The sudden slackening in the fabric once tight over her breasts sent a thrill through us. Sym too rode the wave of my hormones with me, as she now possessed a synthetic version of her own endocrine system.

Now Sym had her own racing hormones-- and I felt them too!

Sym nodded her head towards her chest to create a new view. I realized this was for my benefit, as I could see through her eyes.

We looked down upon our perfectly shaped breasts from above, while also viewing them from the front, as we pulled the dress away.

The gown fell to the floor. I pushed it away with a foot. Sym was purposely maintaining a high degree of old fashioned constraints on the disrobing process.

At that moment Sym surprised me by taking the initiative; she signaled me it was her turn.

I watched as she removed my jumpsuit; saw my own body through her eyes, and felt a twinge of discomfort. After all, while Sym looked for all the world like some goddess out of mythology (or some artist's wild fantasy), I was at best an average physical specimen from my time. But the anxiety I noted came only from my old, original self.

Sym registered the slight fluctuation this brought to my enthusiasm, and compensated for it, with a simple kiss. A kiss we felt from both sides of the experience.

Her next move really surprised me: Sym's hands briefly left my face, and suddenly my entire body tingled, and the room seemed noticeably colder.

Symantici directed my eyes downwards, to my feet, where I could barely discern a gossamer heap of transparent material. Something so fragile-looking, it seemed it could have been torn apart by a gentle breeze. It was almost invisible, and colorless.

*What is it?* I asked, puzzled.

*Your second skin,* Sym stunned me by saying. *If we are to touch, it will be uncompromising: flesh to flesh.*

*I-- I thought it would hurt for my second skin to be took off--*

*It would, were you not with me; not in this Realtime.*

*But-- what about my node? It's still working. I thought the node and skin were integrated?*

*I kept your node intact for our link. It doesn't require the film to function.*

*Oh. Okay,* I replied, still a little unsure about all this.

Sym still wore her arm coverings and head jewelry, but that was all. Underneath the gown had been nothing more: not even footwear. She'd been treading along atop the floor of her invisible buffer field.

I was perfectly willing to ignore the presence of the few remaining items of clothing-- but not Sym. She urged me to complete the ritual.

So one at a time, I pulled her sleeves off her arms. Then I gently tugged the fragile-looking metallic framework from around her face.

The link, and her breathtaking out-of-this-world beauty, made me forget the last step. But Sym reminded me. She had decided to do the thing, and do it she would.

To my half-surprise, I found that Sym had left me in control of her last defense all along. I still possessed its 'off' switch. And now she wanted me to use it.

I conjured up the vision of my first image of her: a cold, calculating, sexless knot of varying sized tentacles. And I spoke the trigger phrase aloud.

I felt her shudder, both in mind and body. Symantici truly was terrified. She'd stepped off the cliff, and was now in free fall.

We were both now as naked and exposed as we could ever be. Me bereft even of my second skin, she of the buffer field which had protected her since Issuance.

We closed in a physical embrace to match the mental one.

We were now both shivering. In her thoughts I saw she had made herself even more human than I'd realized; she'd added synthetic musculature to go with the previously installed components. Evidently there was enough there now to bring about old-fashioned human style reactions to many stimuli. But while I was shivering from being a little too cool (well, maybe from excitement too), Sym was shivering in abject fear. I tried to calm her.

*Sym, please don't be afraid. You're here now, outside your bubble. Is it so terrible?*

My concern grew when she didn't respond. Her shivering stopped-- but so did everything else. Sym was absolutely motionless now. Even her normal emulation of human breathing had disappeared.

After a few more futile attempts to get a response out of her, it began to dawn on me that she might actually be going into shock. Maybe she'd made herself too human. And was unprepared for the physiological response of her body to her utterly terrified mind set.

There was only one thing to do; I hurriedly called up the reference image, and spoke the command to reactivate her shield.

But nothing happened. I tried again. Still nothing.

I tried perhaps a dozen more times, growing frantic.

I tried contacting Thantia: no response. The Pagnew. Anybody! I got no reply.

Had Sym purposely isolated us for this event? Maybe. She might even have changed the buffer toggle so I couldn't reactivate it again myself, as I'd done before.

Sym was frozen in our mind link, too. I could detect something happening inside her mind, but high level exchanges were no longer occurring between us. Somehow we were at least partially disengaged in the link. Not entirely, for I could still feel her with me, perceive things through her senses. But all other signals were painfully chaotic and incomprehensible to me.

Why wouldn't her bubble reappear? That would probably solve everything! Or at least help.

Why wouldn't Thantia answer? Where was everybody?

Sym had been so worried about unforeseen problems-- apparently for good reason. Something about the new synthetic human body she'd constructed for herself had triggered a seizure of some sort, when she'd exposed herself to the shock of contact.

It was all my fault: what if she died? I couldn't bear the thought.

And here I'd believed she was invincible, being a Sol!

What was wrong with me? Any living being can suffer traumatic shock, can't they? It was so obvious! How could I be so blind?

I was beginning to panic, big time. This wasn't helping Sym a bit. Our combined consciousnesses began to be rocked violently in the chaotic storm of her trauma, and my panic.

Then I realized that perhaps my communications with third parties were blocked by me being in direct link. Now that I thought about it, I wasn't sure if I personally had ever called out to anyone else while in direct link with Sym. Maybe others had called in, or Sym had called out, but had I ever initiated such messages? It could be I simply didn't know how: that it was different from using the shush net. Maybe I should disengage from Sym, to get help for her. But would further harm come to her by such an uncoupling under these circumstances? Would she sense me leave, and feel I'd deserted her? Or was the real danger in allowing her to languish without aid in her present state for too long? Maybe every second counted!

I moved to decouple my mind from hers.

And couldn't. I was locked in!

Calm down! An inner voice urged. It wasn't Sym, but rather one of the multitude of voices which had seemed to spring forth in my own head over past days. Was it that Ovizatataron character? It didn't seem to be.

I considered trying to raise that mysterious demon. Maybe he could help matters? But no: there was too much uncertainty in that course. He'd actually hurt Sym, that last time.

At that moment, I realized I'd completely forgotten about one important channel of communications: my voice! I'd talked aloud with Thantia earlier. So why not now?

"Thantia! I need your help! Symantici is-- hurt. In shock, I think. Can you hear me? Symantici needs help!" I listened for a Realtime response from my virtual prison. None came.

"Thantia!" I yelled louder." Can you hear me? Symantici needs help! Now!"

Still there was no response. But we were inside Thantia! How could she miss my yelling?

Before, Symantici had spoken to Thantia first, to introduce us. Could it be Thantia would only respond to Sym-- or to conversations initiated by Sym?

Well, in link I was at least partially Symantici. If I could see through her eyes, feel through her flesh, couldn't I project through her node?

But up to now I'd only observed through these particular channels, I realized; not acted through them, or directed them. I didn't know how to do so. But I had to do something.

The misty Realtime image of Symantici's open eyes, staring at nothing, though aimed at my own, anguished me. She could be dying for all I knew.

I physically shook her in a violent fashion, hoping she'd awaken. Nothing. Though it pained me in ways both expected and not, I slapped her face while verbally demanding her to come to. Several times. Still nothing. But at least I felt the slaps too, through her senses. They hurt. The last few times I'd slapped her as violently as I could, figuring her Sol body could take it. But despite maybe almost knocking myself out with the blows (and my hands feeling like I'd repeatedly slapped a solid concrete wall), still there was no response.

I turned again to our virtual unity. There had to be something there I could do!

I groped about like a blind man in Sym's consciousness, trying to find a way to use Symantici's communications node. How could it be done? I didn't know where to start.

Where to start: maybe that was the key.

What was my goal? To speak as Sym to Thantia. How could I do this? By using Sym's body like it was my own. What were the present conditions? We were locked in direct link, our minds united, but Sym suffering from shock. I could still see through her eyes though; see the torment and worry on my own face, as if peering into a terrible mirror.

How could I find Sym's own communications node? From her perspective?

I realized this was overly ambitious; I needed something easier!

Physically! I needed physical feedback to find her mouth, her lips, her tongue, with which to speak! Surely this would be easier than locating the node.

What else could I sense through her form? I saw my face. I heard heartbeats, and a little more. I could smell something. Apparently my Jerry body. Sym's own scent was strangely absent to her own consciousness.

Sight, sound, smell. Was there nothing more? Pressure. Two spots. No, three. No: eight. Two were my hands on Jerry's face. Two others were Jerry's hands on me. Four were our bare feet on the floor...

That was when the truck hit me: I was totally unprepared.

By making my way deeper into her perceptions, I'd stumbled onto the trigger for her seizure.

When her bubble had dissipated, Sym's hands (and mine) had descended the miniscule remaining distance to our respective forms, and Sym's feet to the floor.

She'd touched the universe outside her bubble for only the second time since she'd come into it at Issuance. And for the very first time ever, in a physical form so near to that of the frail biological humans of the 20th century.

The result was that a lifetime of training, conditioning, education, habit, fear, and belief had all come crashing down upon her. Even as the terrifyingly strong sensations of a newly complete biological form (albeit synthetic) also weighed upon her consciousness.

Sym was now panic-stricken: a trapped animal, who'd had its natural instincts largely stripped out of it prior to birth. And so now was lost for what to do. Paralyzed in indecision; drowning in terror.

She'd tried to shut out the horror; but only succeeded in boxing herself up with it instead. Her walls of denial had cut me off from her.

But in her sense of touch, I'd found a hole in this barrier; for that sensation was the pipeline feeding her trauma. When I entered it, I was immediately swept by the flow into her own private hell.

Swept in, and dropped in, right beside her. In a Sol version of Hell.

Let me tell you, this is something you don't want to do. No matter how much you love your spouse, lover, friend, or child, you do not want to see them in this state.

You do not want to see them as they meet their own worst ending imaginable.

I guess I'd have to say that if direct link with Sym previous to that moment had been the best part of my life, my fall into the pit with her was the worst.

In that pit I met the primal Symantici: her core. That part of her had only just begun to acknowledge my existence by that time. So it practically didn't even know me when I fell into its hole. Despite our link. Despite everything.

This was Symantici stripped of the veneer of recent experience and memory. Stripped of her conscious self. This was her subconscious. Where survival, pleasure, pain, and fear were all that mattered.

Generations of endless fiddling with the genetics, experimental re-routing of neural networks, and extensive social conditioning had all left their own marks on Sym's subterranean psyche. It was not pretty.

I'm not sure exactly what shaped my perceptions in that place. Myself? Sym? Both of us? All I know is it was a nightmare from which I couldn't awaken.

It was like I'd been touring some fabulous mansion, only to suddenly find myself falling through a rotten floor, into the basement.

In the very first instant I experienced surprise, shock, and fear. Then a flash of anger at myself for being so careless.

Then the pain came. Pain just as bad as the pleasure of the link had always been good, before.

Pain exploded everywhere. It was like I was breathing in fire. Like I'd been skinned alive, and was now in the process of being coated in salt. The suffering, the anguish, was literally almost blinding.

Everything there was the color of blood. Bright red. Hot, bright red, the images wavering and shimmering from a volcanic heat.

I frantically tried to claw my way back up and out of the hole; but I couldn't find an exit. The way I'd entered seemed to have closed up behind me.

The human mind cannot withstand agonies beyond a certain level; it shuts down, retreats. Gives up control to the sturdier subconscious.

I was pain incarnate.

In an instant, my I.Q. plummeted to near that of an animal. Suddenly I couldn't remember how I'd gotten here; I couldn't remember wanting to help Sym; I couldn't remember Sym at all.

I seemed to have lost my own identity. Maybe because it didn't matter in this hellish place.

All I knew was that I-had-to-GET-AWAY!

I bounced off the walls of the place, to no avail. But I would get out immediately now, or die. Period.

Then, the most amazing thing happened: the pain actually increased.

This was an unbelievable event, given the conditions. Even my subconscious self, dumb as it was, could fully recognize the difference.

The new pain came from behind me; something in the place had struck me!

I turned to meet my adversary. And learned that all the heat here wasn't coming from the place itself. But rather from the creature now before me.

Where our surroundings were literally red hot, the thing before me glowed white with virtual star energies. It seemed literally to be a white hot glob of metal, in a roughly human shape-- a very thick human shape, with only large round knobs where head, hands, and feet should have been.

By contrast, I seemed almost black. I was absorbing far more heat than I was emitting, in this place.

The white thing was hard to look at. Even with virtual eyes.

The molten creature did not hesitate; in an instant it was on me. Murder its obvious intent.

I was no less violent.

I felt the same thing the other did; to kill the other might bring relief. So I tried.

We grappled. It was a bizarre, unbounded experience in agony. Seemingly much worse than any real world physical conflict could ever be.

The blindingly bright being was incredibly strong. But lacked something essential to the fray. It was like for all its strength, it was often slow and uncertain as to what action to take next.

In some distant way, it reminded me of a baby taking its first steps. But a very violent and powerful infant, none-the-less.

Everywhere our surfaces touched, I burned and blistered and burst and melted and screamed. My ruined skin slid off my limbs like wet tissue paper; my soul was afire! But try as I did, I could not for long escape the searing touch.

The other seemed in pain from our contact too, though I couldn't understand why.

My vision seemed to adjust to the glare of the shining star creature. Locked in close combat as we were, I began to make out tiny hairline cracks in its skin. Minute fractures, hard to discern against the intense light.

Chinks in its armor? A weakness to exploit?

In the state I was in, no decision about pursuing such a thing was necessary. To find advantage was to use it.

I immediately began battering the creature wherever I detected the cracks.

I couldn't see any sign that it was working, but I persisted. Burning and melting and frying with every impact.

Eventually I changed tactics. Instead of pummeling the areas, I began to forcefully try to pry off pieces every chance I got.

This brought most gratifying results, though it made chunks of my fingers drip off. Our entire surroundings shook violently in synch with my progress at chipping away the thing's outer skin.

Suddenly a particularly large piece fell away, and a new sort of light emerged from the creature, through the newly formed aperture.

The new light struck me a glancing blow, and I felt music in the beam.

Music! In the beam!

It pulsated with a frantic beat; nearly too fast to be called music, but not quite.

The burst of melodic light hit me like a cold splash of water. The relief it brought faded almost immediately-- but the extra bit of reason it illuminated in me didn't. I remembered a little of who I was.

But I couldn't slack off my attack; the monster was still terribly dangerous.

I continued to chip away at it. The lone ray of musical light flickered madly about our surroundings as the creature and I struggled to end our death-dance.

We rolled about the hellish place, each trying frantically to gain advantage over the other.

Finally, another sizable piece of armor gave way on the creature. And more shining music poured forth. This time I wasn't caught immediately in the beam, so its song and blessing of relief remained unknown to me.

Then a particularly violent maneuver brought me into its glare after all, and I gasped.

More of my memory returned; though only enough to confuse me.

The whole pit shook violently in response.

I couldn't remember how I'd got here. Or why I was fighting this being of burning white hot flesh.

My expanding awareness robbed me of my primal edge of fury. This put me at a disadvantage with the faceless shape of white, solidified flame.

We seemed more evenly matched on speed of reaction now. My returning consciousness was interfering with instinctual reactions...

Instincts! That was what the creature lacked! That was what was slowing it down!

But what was the significance of the creature being devoid of instinct?

Like the creature, I too was incomplete, I realized. We were both only partially here. This thought puzzled me as I strained to break free of the creature's new grip on me, and ignore my own earnest screams as my flesh melted and drained away.

Was I fighting...myself?

A bit more of the creature's outer covering flaked off then, in an area of intense struggle between us. So the emerging light beam struck me full on.

I remembered Sym. And wished she were here to help me.

I also recalled my state just prior: where I couldn't remember her at all.

The light beam from the creature was illuminating dark corners inside of me.

The monster didn't make any sense! Was it only a shell filled with light? It sure didn't feel like it!

The struggle ground on. And there came a moment when one of my hands, scrambling for a hold, grasped the edge of a place the armor had fallen away. My fingers went into the creature's interior.

Full consciousness filled me. I remembered everything. And realized the creature was somehow Sym herself.

She was going mad inside the shell: not even aware of who or what she was fighting.

My returning consciousness set me up for a bad moment in the struggle. Sym, in her creature guise, finally got me into a vulnerable position and began to rip me apart.

I could feel fractures developing in my own substance. My thoughts began to splinter; I'd think something, and hear an echo repeat a part of it afterwards; distorted mirror images of my thoughts spun out from shattered centers.

I regretted not concentrating my efforts on a single spot of Sym's monstrous form. Now it looked to be too late.

Her blows were murderously effective. She was beating me to a boiling, roasting, burning, melting pulp.

Now that my greater speed was gone, her immense strength made her master of the conflict. I was being beaten (and burned, and melted) senseless.

My consciousness had returned to me too late, and now it was fading again. Dazed and badly hurt, I squirmed mightily to escape the merciless rain of blows.

Just as everything started to go black, I found myself free again. But the damage was done. I was nearly crippled. And barely managing to avoid the thing's grasp. How had it caught me? I'd been too fast before!

Several shafts of light emanated from the thing's shape, wavering in various directions. And rapidly gyrated with its movements as it chased me through the red gloom.

I remembered the light was bad. It felt good, and banished suffering, but weakened me; slowed me down. I had to stay away from it.

I also remembered something else; the cracks in the thing's skin. It didn't like it when I peeled its shell off. That was how I'd hurt it before. But now I was too slow. I couldn't hit and run like before.

I feinted and dodged and maneuvered until I managed to jump it from behind.

It still burned to touch it, but I was so far gone already it didn't matter anymore. All I wanted was for the burning to stop; for everything to stop.

I held onto its back as it furiously tried to dislodge me. Every chance I got, I pried and probed at its fractured shell. Pieces fell away, and more light streamed out. I avoided the beams, remembering that they were bad. I continued to work the edges of the existing holes where and when I could reach them, to enlarge them.

The pit around us shook and shook and shook. The creature got smart, and rolled onto the ground, atop me.

The thing was heavy. Crushingly so. But as I was dying anyway, I ignored the pulping, and continued to expand the beaming craters on its shoulders and back. The ground shook so fiercely I soon couldn't tell if the monster itself was moving or not; because everything here seemed in motion now.

All I could do was hold on. And pry and pick at the thing's awful skin.

Something changed. The holes in the other's skin began growing on their own. The beams of light streaming forth thickened, now spilling out in a gelatin-like mass. Oozing out in great quantities from the creature's form.

The semi-liquid material streamed over my arms, and I wept and moaned in relief. The glowing jelly took away the awful burning and crisping there.

I let go the hot white shape, and it sprang away. It was now more frantic in its movements than ever before. But it was no longer interested in me.

The glowing jelly continued to stream from its wounds. Great gobs flew away from the body to splatter against the walls of the pit, as the creature's movements became more frenzied.

The creature itself was now acting like I had in the beginning; bouncing off the walls, apparently desperately seeking an exit.

Some of the gel splashed on a nearby wall slid down near the floor. I feebly crawled to it, and began applying it to my charred and smoking body.

I coated myself in it as best I could, with shaking hands now equipped with little more than blackened nubs for fingers.

Great gobs of hellish pain fell away from me; I became gloriously numb to the carnage that'd been inflicted upon me.

I rapidly lost every care I had in the world, and my eyes floated about the scene as those of a detached observer.

The glaring white of the creature had now dimmed to a dull red. Soon thereafter the bulbous shape began to stagger, and finally fell over. As it hit the ground the remaining shell burst into pieces. A much smaller, more delicate form, arose from the wreckage, and began to approach me.

I didn't care what happened next. As long as the pain didn't return, I didn't care what happened at all.

The new creature too emitted a strong light, but seemingly a different kind from that I'd perceived before. This light was pure: no awful heat accompanied its passage.

The shining being walked over to me.

I watched it dispassionately, as it bent over to finish me off. I'd earned my ticket out of this place, I thought to myself.

The pit seemed to be cooling off rapidly, now that the white hot shell had been shattered. The red walls were fading into an impenetrable blackness. Soon, only the new entity would be visible in the darkness.

This close, I noticed the thing looked familiar. Like...an overgrown version of a human fetus. Covered in glowing goo.

There was no oversized umbilical cord to complete the picture.

The embryonic form looked at me with eyes covered by transparent lids. It raised its disproportionately small proto hands towards my face. And the blackness all around flooded into my mind.

And somehow I knew it was over.

"Jerry?"

"Huh? Yeah?" I felt startled awake. The words I heard and spoke were all aloud-- not conveyed through my shush net node.

An all white creature was beside me.

Involuntarily, I lashed out at it. Fortunately, my feeble blow couldn't hurt my Sol companion.

Surprisingly though, she flinched.

"Uh! I'm sorry, Sym! I don't know what I was doing!" I instinctively wrapped my arms protectively around her.

"I do."

"Huh?"

"I know what you were thinking."

My eyes involuntarily fluttered as I checked our status.

"But we're not in link!" My voice was ragged.

"No. It has been many hours of Realtime since we were."

"Well then...what do you--" I began, and then watched a slew of strange recollections come tumbling out of my mind.

"--what happened, Sym? Weren't we about to-- wait! Something went wrong! You were paralyzed or something!"

My full attention returned to the silvery beauty I now held close. My level of concern was high, as I sought out any signs of injury in her expression.

"Sym, are you okay? Are you hurt? Can we get Thantia to help?"

Symantici's glistening cheeks bulged in a wide smile.

"I am optimal-- no, I am fine, Jerry."

"But-- are you sure? I thought--"

"Yes, you thought. And thought well. We encountered one of your bifurcation points, Jerry. Was it everything you hoped it would be?"

"What? What do you mean?"

"We-- we found more than we expected with contact, you and I."

"You mean, it really happened?" The instant I spoke, I felt foolish. We were both laying nude on the floor, our clothes strewn about. Of course it had happened. But there was something...

"Sym, what the hell happened when you blanked out on me? I remember something about it, but it doesn't make any sense..."

"I withdrew from contact. From Realtime; from you. I imploded. And threw up defenses in my mind to replace the physical barrier I had lost."

"But-- I -- there was a monster! A burning, white hot monster...in a red hot pit. What was all that about, Sym?"

"Your perspective differs from mine, Jerry. When I felt the first touch of unshielded reality, I fled inward. Further and faster than I ever knew I could go.

"I fled to the protection of my deep self. I soon realized what I'd done, but couldn't reverse the process. I effectively locked myself in and threw away the key, to use a colloquialism from your time.

"Then something breached the walls of my self-imposed prison; it was someone I knew."

Sym hesitated long enough to flash me another smile, and then went on. Though I was still in the process of comprehending it all, it looked like everything might be okay.

"Finally, with your aid, I was able to escape. Escape the worst part of the ordeal, at any rate. That which you knew as a 'pit', is another level of the same problem."

"But-- the pit turned black, and--" I blurted out suddenly from memories I couldn't consciously access.

"Yes? Do you remember more?" Sym looked startled herself now.

"And-- no, I guess not; at least not right now. But I guess you got out all right, didn't you? I mean, you're here now, aren't you?"

"Yes: Yes and no."

"Huh?"

"I still have unresolved problems, Jerry. My 'pit' still exists. But the obstacle you helped me overcome was far more difficult to deal with."

I swallowed hard. And felt my eyes begin to involuntarily well up with tears. I tried to blink them back. My throat suddenly tightened.

"Does that mean-- you need me to go back? To the pit?" I began to openly sob as I asked the question: I couldn't help it. Though I couldn't remember much about it, something told me it was God-awful (and that I likely wouldn't survive a second visit).

A chorus of voices in my head were also screaming No no no you goddamn fool!

My tears spilled over, and my whole body trembled at the prospect. In dim, obfuscated memories, I felt once again the searing touch of the star being.

Sym didn't need direct link to know what I was offering her.

Her expression changed slightly; I couldn't read it. When she responded, it was very softly.

"No, Jerry." Then, louder (but in a lighter tone), she said "I know you shan't believe it, but we Sol do have a few among us who may be capable of doing such things as well as G.W. Staute himself!"

She laughed. And the sound was so sweet, I knew somewhere an entire field of flowers had just burst into bloom.

I moved my face nearer to hers, and gently kissed her.

It was only some time later that I realized her buffer field was indeed gone for good. At least where she and I being together was concerned.

Sym never asked me to raise her shield again. In fact, I asked her about it once too often, and she removed the toggle access entirely from my node. 'So I could forget about it', she told me.

She said she would still use it where extra protection might be warranted. And buffer fields did have remote manipulation uses too, similar to how the third skins aboard the Pagnew were utilized. So she did not dispense entirely with the mechanism; she just reduced her use of it as much as was practical in this place and time.

What happened next? Not to be

Symantici Dolmunus Brevsadetta

Copyright © 2004-2011 by J.R. Mooneyham. All rights reserved.