Never Jobe

By J. Peter J.

In the last third of The Sapien Way trilogy, Trace Exide reveals aspects of himself even he would not have expected two years earlier. Triggered by circumstance into explosive evolution which takes him from Page Agent for the Corps to what many now consider an arrogant, self-proclaimed deity, Trace furthers his dissemination throughout the cosmos, traveling to places time and space cannot withhold from him. Though he is not Sapien in the technical sense, those close to him realize that his humanity alone may be the one thing keeping the fabric of the universe from tearing into shreds. In Never Jobe we are invited to join Trace and his cast of friends and family in their search for freedom from chaos as they must now wrestle with the products of the past in order to salvage their uncertain future.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J. Peter J.
• Release date: Feb 6, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310218712

J. Peter J.

Ever since he was a boy, writing has been a joy for J. Peter J. Grateful for a fluid imagination, he uses his chemistry and biology experience along with the wondrous nature which surrounds his Arizona high desert home, to inspire works as varied as his sci-fi trilogy, The Sapien Way, or his first poetry collection titled, In the Apparatus of Questions. Thankfully, there seems to be no end to his pursuit of the best writing he can produce and his catalog of creations includes dozens of short stories, hundreds of poems, several completed novels and two new trilogies in the ferment of his mind and word processors. His decades in academia and his many years of playing the drums in a local band, working as a carpenter, mason, naturalist, sales clerk and property manager, all provide ample fuel for his writings.

Book preview

J. Peter J.

Never Jobe

The Last Third of

The Sapien Way

Never Jobe

Published by J. Peter J. at Smashwords

Copyright © 2013 by Peter James Janousek

ISBN 978-1-3102-1871-2

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Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

About the Author

Other Books by J. Peter J.

1

As uninspiring as their proclivity toward being herded is,

the Sapien Race exhibits an overwhelming capacity for ingenuity.

Chiszara Badahan, last

Level Master of the

Mundrichu

Andie, help me, Ajax begged in a faint voice bordering on frailty. She could hardly stand.

I already have, said Rominstral, carrying Ajax to her new hopper, readying the vessel for flight and injecting them both into Etherspace with fluid ease.

Ever since Trace had left them on Threadholme, the girl had been stricken by chills which were not associated with any illness Andie could identify. But Rominstral knew the source of the girl’s upset to be her father’s danger. A danger unlike any he had faced before. A potentially terminal one. One that Rominstral now knew to be of a peril greater than The Sapien Way could bear. Without Trace, without The Exide Equation as a growing, evolving component, the Realm of Man would decay into the abyss of its own decadence. The way even her Ajax had succumbed to vulnerability, was a small expression of the impending doom which now rippled through the galaxy and beyond to the surrounding universe.

Stepping out of their hopper on Earth ~ next to Murex who shivered as a living, breathing thing, Bethbetta’s voice calling in terror from inside the abode which she and Trace had just entered ~ Andie strode like velvet upon sandpaper, neither effecting or effected by the landscape. Hers, Rominstral’s, was a gait unlike anything living but inherently like all things truly and completely sentient.

In the abode of Joe Boy and his parents, darkness had filled the rooms upstairs, as if oozing up from the depths and encompassing all there was within the confines of the exterior walls. Andie saw Bethbetta kneeling there on the floor beside a shape. Trace Exide’s shape. With unseen urgency, Andie took the severed head into her hands and went into Murex where she placed it into the lifetank, watching the open eyes which seemed cognizant, recognizing Rominstral as the Nauplius head sank partly into the solution but not all the way to the bottom. Andie then went back out to her own hopper where Ajax was safely resting, perhaps aware of what had transpired, perhaps not. The girl looked dazed. Rominstral/Andie made a silent gesture and the hopper shimmered as Murex did, becoming a sister ship to the quill. It was easy enough to manipulate atomic energy when it is fully understood and nothing in the universe quite understood it the way Andie now did. Her own awareness mingling with that of Rominstral made her find joy in the knowledge at her disposal, calm in the power she wielded and life in the lifelessness of having been a recovering androgynet. Now she felt as though she were all of those things: power, knowledge, wisdom, life, lifelessness and eternity. Unfortunately, others around her remained susceptible to malice and could be harmed by the devious whims of those who would care to dominate life in the universe rather than honor it.

Brandishing a weapon the androgynet herself would not have had without Rominstral, Andie strode back into the abode, just seconds after recovering Trace Exide’s head from there, from the weeping Shelph warrior who now remained kneeling and motionless, as though her heart had been torn from her. Though she did not have one in the physical sense, Bethbetta’s figurative heart was crying in anguish and Andie touched her softly on the top of her head and she stood up, trembling.

Trace . . . Trace, No! What happened? Andie? Andie, what hap~

There now, be still, sad one, Andie spoke as if in slow motion, though her voice was key perfect. Bethbetta. Trace Exide’s savior. He will be alright. Help me take his body into the second Murex, then we shall dispatch these scoundrels together.

Second Mur . . . ex? Bethbetta whispered, moving as though dazed.

Not having needed Bethbetta’s help, of course, Andie gladly accepted it and together they carried Trace’s headless body into the sister quill and a second lifetank soon cradled it as if it were simply taking a nap. Neither of them seemed to take notice of the fact that the incomplete body helped by occasionally moving its legs and feet.

Ajax had stepped out of the sister quill and was carrying a bonelance in one hand, a lightning rod in the other. A new resolve appeared imprinted upon the young girl’s face. Bethbetta had similar weapons at the ready and Andie brandished her own, which was unlike anything they had ever seen.

Bethbetta, this is for you, Andie said, holding it out to her. It is a quandolin.

Bethbetta took the weapon gingerly, uncertain of how it should even be held. What . . . does it do?

There will always be times in everyone’s life, of those who strive to restore, retain or regain order from the natural chaos around them, when deciding what weapon to use at what point requires a hesitation even they do not realize is potentially fatal. The quandolin removes that from the equation. It knows what needs to be done for order to resume. It is a factor of myself. Of Rominstral.

So, it knows, even if I don’t, who must die? Bethbetta asked, still a bit puzzled.

Death is not the ultimate order we living might think. The quandolin restores order. Be it through death, through life, through suffering or through sympathetic aid. It will do all of those things when they are required but none of them when they are not. Andie had a look of benign patience in her expression that was matched only by the calm emanating from her stance as she looked upon Bethbetta with an understanding of the Shelph’s concern, love and loss. Trace Exide is necessary for order to resume in this and many other galaxies throughout the universe, Bethbetta. But he is often presented with new challenges that will arise as a matter of course. He needs also to have you beside him and the quandolin will be of assistance when trouble might arise. And it surely will.

Andie, could it not then restore Trace immediately, without the lifetank? Without delay? Bethbetta asked.

Andie nodded towards the lifetank in Murex, the two quills having merged while she and Bethbetta were talking; now both lifetanks were merged as well, all without any detectable changes to the atomics of either vessel. Ajax and Bethbetta looked at the lifetank which now contained a restored Trace.

Bethbetta rushed to the tank and wrapped her arms all the way around it in a surge of emotion, saying nothing but weeping like a child.

Andie was already in Joe Boy’s family abode at this point. Ajax was staring at the sight of her father as yet not fully responsive from within the tank, Bethbetta reduced to a quivering mess. Ajax thought back on the relentless avalanche of experiences which had transpired in her short life ever since her father came to take her away from her world on Abour. It was almost too much even for a Nauplius to bear and she felt like crying herself but the tears just wouldn’t come. It was a new resentment against the patterns of the present which now bade her to remain strong. She fearlessly followed Andie into the abode.

No! Andie shouted then, startling Ajax who stopped in her tracks like a youngster scolded for doing what it mustn’t ever do. I will deal with this matter myself. Go to your father, Ajax.

It was unsettling to the girl, hearing Andie speak to her in that tone. Rominstral. She had to keep reminding herself of that. Andie was no longer just her friend the androgynet.

Darkness or light were both the same to Rominstral. It had always been thus and likely always would be. What or who Rominstral had once been, was a thing so far in the past that it seemed almost the future and Andie thought of that aspect of time’s aberrations as she entered the blackness which had blinded Trace and made him so defenseless. There was something mechanical about the blackness, but familiar, too. It smelled of The Jobe. A silent but detectable presence was moving swiftly from one side to the next, with regularity and an almost sentient volition. It adjusted itself to the life form entering the room and sought to remove the head from the body of what or whoever it might be. Andie not having any mass now, was immune to the device which would have killed any mortal or Sapien and even, as had been rudely demonstrated, a Nauplius. But what the purveyors of this sinister weapon had not anticipated, was Rominstral. Trace would not be allowed to die while Rominstral exists. Simple probability dictated that something or someone would next strive to procure the means to eliminate Rominstral. The hunger for power and domination usually, if not always, seeks to tie up loose ends. Too often, the process begins a chain reaction until there is no one or nothing left to trust and eventually, the whole affair is self-regulating and the power seeker destroys even itself. Rominstral had plenty of time to watch these latest strings of events play themselves out and did so without a single concern for its own well being. In fact, so loyal to those she was to protect and serve, Andie was also a wonderful servant to Rominstral and therefore could free the latter to act in a fashion it could not before. Even as a Razeacre, Rominstral was constrained. Now as Andie, there were fewer limitations.

Crouching, hearing and feeling the unseen blade above her, Andie stood and walked sideways, then like a fish flapping out of water, like a salamander squirming out of a campfire, like a lizard flitting from twig to twig as if a flightless bird, then like a bird itself, like a snake, like a lizone, a churl, a Targh, a tapeworm and like a spider, Andie moved with grace, simplicity, complexity and finesse as if she be all of those creatures at once, herself now a weapon against this mysterious contraption. With her left hand, she reached up and tore the device from its moorings as it neared for another pass. She pulled it free and amid sounds of a suction being broken from the air which had harnessed the weapon, light returned to the room. At first glance, it was empty. Then the forms of sentries shimmered into being. They wielded staffs of moldercrystal, something found on the planet Iirkacidia, one of the Fringeworlds. The fine tip would shatter into microscopic filaments upon insertion through the carapace or exoskeleton or in through the epidermis of any given organism, then individually rupture its cells, leaving none intact. Very lethal. Renewable, too, as the tip would flake off upon entry, leaving a new tip for the next hapless victim. Rominstral smiled within the form of Andie, having no form itself, and Andie being non-living. The moldercrystal had met its match.

Three sentries turned upon Andie and inserted their staffs into her, but she grabbed the two on either side with her able hands, flipped them out and around and stabbed the sentries who had wielded them, kicking the third staff out of the grasp of and thrusting it ably into the third, startled sentry. Two more came and quickly discovered how it feels to be ruptured at the cellular level, their limited awareness suddenly registering a flood of imperceptible agony replicated a few trillion times. It was a sensation Rominstral had experienced before, through the departing lives of many poor creatures thus impaled over the eons. Again, the feeling that The Jobe were somehow responsible for this, was beginning to take form in Andie’s unique brain. Her mind was a template of considerable complexity. A thing fashioned in and of the Ether; Rominstral had made a fine choice in Andie. It would stay there for a long while.

What? Who are you? Chofguard Zebemonde asked, looking every bit as irritable as he sounded.

You have been playing with dangerous toys, Chofguard. Don’t you think you owe someone, some many, an apology? Andie asked instead of answering. She held up the strange device she’d torn apart, held it before this greedy being just to demonstrate how useless it now was, though it glowed like a million stars in the shape of a crescent moon.

I owe no one a thing, Zebemonde replied, undaunted but fearfully curious. Who are you? Answer me, woman. How did you ~ how did you do that? he asked, looking at the mounds of wet cellular waste on the floor, the broken pendulum, the light in the room where it should have been Chofguard’s favorite pitch blackness. He wore goggles with very dark lenses to protect his light sensitive eyes and it was now apparent that he preferred the darkness not only for the fulfillment of his ways but for the comfort of his vision.

Your questions are beside the point, Chofguard. What is done, is done. And you are done now, too, Andie answered, raising her right hand and showering Chofguard Zebemonde with such intense light that the lenses of his goggles misted, cracked and vaporized. His screams of excruciating pain could be heard through the open quarkways of the quills. As his anguish died down, his entire form slowly vaporized as well.

A shadow passed across the rays of light and Rominstral knew it was The Jobe. Coalescing into a form more readily visible and one which could converse more readily with Andie, it appeared without clothes, had an androgynous shape and wore a halo of colors around its handsome face. We are ever at odds, you and I. One day, we should have children, Rominstral. Just imagine what that would do to the Exide Equation, it said with a smile of sorts.

We have already both imagined that possibility and it leads to nothing more than we already have. If we are to continue playing this game, it is neither a solution nor an option, Andie said.

But how will either of us ever win? The Jobe asked, snaking about like a confused rainbow without the rain.

Win? What do we win? We already have everything. Andie informed the aparition.

Not quite everything. We haven’t all of eternity any longer, you and The Jobe.

That is because you should not have helped initiate the Exide Equation to begin with, Eleje.

The Jobe see that now. That is why we must stop it if we can. The rainbow figure shimmered and shifted its shape into something more formidable, as if to exemplify the point.

I do not wish to win against you. But I will not lose against you either. Andie’s resolve was like a universe of confidence. Impenetrable.

Wise response, as always, Rominstral. See you soon again we will, The Jobe said, disappearing as it had appeared. Just a shadow of thought like something one believes has passed by but may have only been a trick of the eyes. To a Sapien, it probably would have been.

Who are you? Joe Boy asked, not immediately recognizing Andie. Oh, it’s you. I didn’t see your face. So bright in here. My folks. Are they~

They are safe now. You are safe now, Joe Boy. Your theories and beautiful brain are safe now, too. Just another day for me, I suppose, Andie added playfully, smiling at the stunned boy, who looked so young and helpless.

Andie . . . . Your name is Andie, Joe Boy said. Who were you just talking to? I recognized its voice. Then seeing, or thinking he did, a girl entering the abode, Joe Boy strode out from the brilliant light which was fading anyway. The girl wore a skinsuit and was holding a shiny lightning rod in one hand, a bonelance in the other. She looked so mature, so powerful. Her long, light blue hair wrapped around her neck like a shawl and then pinned at the top of her pretty head.

Hello, Joe Boy, Ajax said, smiling with uncertainty, then not at all.

Ajax? Jaxie? It’s you! I thought I’d never see you again, Joe Boy cried, rushing to her open arms as she dropped the weapons for a moment.

Andie smiled and looked out at Murex who seemed to smile back. The quills had separated and Bethbetta was removing Trace from the lifetank. He was moving as though unable to coordinate motion fully. It would take him far less time to reacquaint himself with motility than it would any other being who had just been decapitated. But it would still be a few moments. Andie found it so amusing, this Sapien thing called time. Living by it was something of a novelty and as the form of an androgynet, Rominstral was feeling more human than anything else just then. A truly enjoyable diversion from the norm. Exceedingly limited but enjoyable.

Trace held the odd object up and studied it carefully, intrigued by how it came up from nothing, apparently, easily concealed on one’s body even without clothing, therefore always available, invoked by needing to have it, rather than wanting it. It looked like a four-pointed star but there were strings of a sort between the extensions, short at the base of the points, longer as they extended out from a gourd-like center with a hole for resonance, as though it were merely a musical instrument. He handed it back to Bethbetta who smiled as though receiving a gift from him. She pressed it to her breast and there it disappeared, seeming to meld with her ample attributes.

Interesting thing, that, Trace said to Andie then, who was on her way to the other quill, Ajax about to join her, Joe Boy preparing to tag along like a puppy and Frank and Bea standing at the doorway to their abode as if some odd dream had just been broken by waking.

It will help Bethbetta protect you when I may be busy at other things, Andie said over her right shoulder.

Other things? The omnipresent, omniscient Rominstral too busy? Ever? It was a quaint suggestion.

I like the way it reinforces the shoot first, ask questions later approach, Trace added.

I knew that would appeal to your sensibilities, Trace, Andie smiled.

Rominstral, Trace said softly, leaning in close to her left ear. I thank you for not divulging the fact that I was not really dead or in danger of dying. It has given Bethbetta a big boost in her confidence. Maybe even Ajax. We’ll wait and see about that.

Shhh, she’s coming, Andie whispered.

Father?

Yes, my Dear, Dear Daughter.

Don’t ever do that again, the blue-haired girl said, without even the hint of a smile.

Trace raised his eyebrows a bit and spread his arms out just slightly, as though wondering what she meant.

It may just be another adventure for you but for those of us who love you, seeing you like that is never going to be easy. Please be careful. If you won’t listen to me, listen to Bethbetta or Andie or Bea or any other mother figure around. Just be CAREFUL! Ajax cried, wiping at errant tears from her youthful face.

Mother figure? Bethbetta, Andie and Bea all looked at one another with the same question in their expressions. Bea, maybe, could fit that description. Bethbetta found herself checking for bulges as she straightened the skinsuit she had on and Andie was shaking her head.

We should get back to Threadholme, Ajax Dear, or folks will begin to worry, Andie suggested, entering the other quill with a parcel of treats from Bea.

Andie, wait a moment, would you? Trace asked, moving along with some help from Bethbetta but assuring her that he’s alright enough to go by himself. Thank you, Bethbetta. I’m alright. Whatever Andie managed, Rominstral, that is, it did the trick.

Bethbetta brushed her hands over Trace’s head and kissed them, then brushed his head again. I cannot stand how you are always getting yourself in trouble lately. I wish my love alone could protect you. Her eyes looked like a fawn’s eyes then: big, dark, filled with concern and deep affection.

It does seem to go that way, doesn’t it. Trace added, taking her hands into his and kissing them himself. Then he held them to his chest. I have nothing to give you but my thanks and my heart, wherever it actually is in there, with a bit of a smile.

Bethbetta wished she could smile back but it was still too soon.

Turning back toward the other quill and engaging Andie, Trace seemed puzzled about something. You knew, didn’t you? You knew I wouldn’t die from decapitation the way a Nauplius normally would. I knew it too, but only recently. I have my brain all over me now; my cellular functions are guided by individual neurons rather than a central core of activity like before. My head is just there to hold my eyes and mouth and nostrils and ears and hair. My body has further evolved. You knew it. Why are you still here . . . among us?

Andie looked at Trace as if she were seeing him for the first time, though that was just his perception. There was something so intense about the stare which bore deep into his being as though she wanted to be in him, not in the form she now held. The form Rominstral now held. It was as if Rominstral had fallen into love with Trace and was now a woman, wanting him for herself.

Andie? It was Ajax. Are you alright?

Of course, Dear. We’d best be leaving now, Andie said, still looking at Trace.

Ajax looked at Andie and nodded, then back at her father, then to Joe Boy, who stood silently at her father’s side. Do you want to come with us, Joe Boy? she asked.

Really? You mean it?

Bea and Frank were standing there with looks of approval and the lad went as close to hysterical with joy as they had seen him in a long time. He rushed to hug them both and took a pack of belongings his mother had hastily prepared, a few items of interest from his father and of course, his own notes, which were always near at hand for him.

I won’t be gone long, Mom, Dad. Thanks. Thanks so much! the boy said, hurrying to join Ajax and Andie in the other quill. I’ll be back before Guster break is over! he added.

There goes our little Joe Boy, Frank mused.

Bea was crying but Frank’s strong arm around her kept her from falling apart. The pair watched first the one vessel gently arise from the ground and head up far into the sky. Then the shimmering Murex, angling into a different tangent and disappearing to the heavens. On the ground near their abode was that Zebra vessel Frank would enjoy modifying to his own needs. All of the evil cretins who had accompanied Chofguard Zebemonde and been a threat to their lives for these last few moments, which felt like days, were dispatched into the Ether where they would ever remain ~ like all things that die; carbon and hydrogen and oxygen and other elements all liberated from what had once been Sapien forms. Even Zebemonde himself, just the collar he had worn since his self-proclaimed reign of power began, lay there on the floor of their living room, which had become such a theater of torment for Trace and his followers. A collar suited for a churl, at best. Frank picked it up and tossed it out under the Zebra vessel where he would dispense with it later.

Let’s get something to eat. I hadn’t realized how much I needed one of your famous breakfasts, Bea, Frank said, taking his wife by her shoulder, back indoors for a spell.

Bea looked over her shoulder where Frank’s hand was gently poised; looked to the sky where she wished Trace and his people would reappear to return her Joe Boy. She wished they could all come right back and stay a while. Especially her son.

Will we be joining Father on his mission to other lands soon, Andie? Ajax asked as her able companion flew the newly-transformed quill back to Threadholme, now that Trace was again in one piece and the most recent threat to civilization defused.

If that is what you would prefer, Ajax, we can join him and Bethbetta. I thought you wished to acquaint yourself with your mother some more though. Didn’t you? Andie sounded so human it seemed odd to think of her as anything else. But Ajax could not think of her in such simple terms. Not yet. An androgynet she could have accepted. A non-living androgynet becoming human, even that. But a human androgynet now sharing itself with Rominstral ~ an entirely indescribable entity ~ that was hard for Ajax to wrap her mind around. Even her Nauplius mind.

I don’t know what I want anymore. Have you any suggestions for me, Rominstral? she asked, not fully accepting the use of the simpler name at present. She might call the being beside her Andie again one day, if it seemed to be right.

I suggest you call me Andie, first. Second, I suggest we return to Beaudunnadun and you become friends with Peloria. She has missed you deeply and there is a rift which must be bridged before anything else can follow. Thirdly, I suggest you learn to understand young Joe Boy here, who is someone else who needs you. Will any of those suggestions do?

Ajax looked at Joe Boy with whom she sat in the second pair of arachnochairs so they could hold hands. She pulled hers away for a while, wiping the inevitable sweat on her garment and smiling cordially, but not affectionately, at the boy. Perhaps it had been a mistake for him to come along. What was he going to do on Threadholme? Ajax didn’t want a romance! She wanted peace, quiet, and a lack of adventure. But also adventure so she wouldn’t get bored with the peace and quiet. Her teenaged hormones were ravaging her and somewhere inside was a woman who wanted desperately to be let out. Nauplius or not, she was anxious to rule the world of mankind all on her own, in her own manner. A boy in love with her might just stunt her growth. I don’t know if I like your suggestions, Rominstral, she answered in a flash, all of her conflicting thoughts taking just a fraction of a second. And I will call you what I want to. And it isn’t Andie. You’re not simple enough for such a simple name. Besides, isn’t this supposed to be my hopper?

You seem upset. Take the controls, if you like. It is purely intuitive and flies mostly by thought. Being most like Murex now, though not quite fully yet, it will take into account your lack of experience, Andie responded.

Alright. That’s what I want, Ajax said, engaging the controls as they neared the planet. And it needs a name. Murex is apparently a female. This one should be a male. If it isn’t, it had better become one because I dub this vessel Boy. Then, with less certainty, Could you help me? she asked, now that they were beginning to enter the atmosphere, her flight skills still unproven.

It is automatic. My help is not required, Andie informed.

I require it! Ajax demanded.

Joe Boy was rubbing his stomach a bit, suddenly feeling hungry, nervous, unsettled and out of place all at once. The day had been a bad one from its beginnings and being near Ajax again was not the cure he had hoped it might be.

Andie took the controls again and flashed a look so unlike the androgynet or anything remotely human that Ajax settled back in her arachnochair, letting it enfold her completely.

Humans are not restricted to a specific genetic code, as your father has realized and knows only too well. Being Nauplius does not increase wisdom beyond humanity simply through osmosis. You need much learning, child. There is danger within you that feeds on emotions which are not fully understood. You love deeply yet hate just as fervently and the two must reside well together for there to be anything like your father within you. He is perhaps too kind to tell you this himself, Andie explained, landing the quill gently upon the grassy ground near Peloria’s home.

Ashamed at having acted like a little girl, Ajax stood from the arachnochair, smoothed her clothing a bit and fixed her hair, then waited for Joe Boy to stand as well. He allowed her to exit first.

A soft hand atop his head made Joe Boy stop himself from following immediately. She is going through a phase, Josef. She’ll be better in a little while. I think she fears that no end to the turmoil will ever come where her father is concerned and that can trouble any girl, even a stable one. Ajax will be a grand human being one day. Just not today. Andie smiled at him and it could have been his mother, his lover, his fantasy girl or Ajax herself casting that pretty look his way. It was all feminine thoughtfulness wrapped into a neat, pretty parcel. In fact, Joe Boy had never taken much notice of the androgynet or how truly attractive she was. Nudging him on, Andie followed as the two left Murex and stepped toward the doorway Ajax had just passed through. Peloria and her sister Emghee stood inside anxiously waiting.

Is everything alright? Peloria asked of her daughter, not yet stepping forward to embrace, seeming frozen by concern, by fear and by a longing which had been broken too many times.

Ajax stepped up to her and gave her an embrace unlike any she had ever given her before. She was finally glad to have a mother. Peloria had not cried so hard in a long, long time.

Everything, Mother. Everything is alright. I’m glad to be home again. So glad, Ajax said, her face buried in the warm chest of her mother. Their blue hair tangling together in the breeze and the tall androgynet, its arm around the young lad from Earth, wondered when she would get to feel such an embrace from someone herself.

Rominstral thought it. Felt it. Longed for it. She, it, they, longed for Trace Exide to love as he is loved by them. Rominstral had never felt the sensation of coveting other than through the beings whose lives and experiences it shared. It was astonishingly real. Uncomfortable. Intoxicating. There was something subtle about being human, even if the human it now inhabited was a thing from the Ether called Andie. But who of them was ever anything but from the Ether?

Are you alright, Andie? Joe Boy asked, feeling a tightness in the tall woman’s arm around him.

You think me a woman? Andie asked young Josef.

Of course! It’s so obvious. How could you be anything but that? Joe Boy answered as if it should be clear.

I am finding it so different than what I had expected it would be, being in Andie’s body, Rominstral added. I must be here to protect young Ajax, to be available for Trace. The universe, you know, depends on that.

Well, if you say so, Joe Boy acknowledged a bit skeptically, not up to speed on the whole story. "Frankly, I think we should stay as far away from Mr. Exide as possible. He always seems to be the center of a whirlpool of activity, mostly trouble.