“I see. To summarize the situation you described, Professor Sideran—” Neria’s form was no longer the simple image of pale light that had first greeted them. As Kalev had explained his mission, she had gradually shifted—becoming more defined, more present.
Now, she paced the central platform with a purposeful stride, her New Eden scientist’s uniform appearing to ripple like actual fabric. Her skin had taken on a pale golden tone similar to Orithian complexion, while her blonde hair floated gently as if suspended in water. Only her solid, glowing blue eyes and the ethereal golden aura that outlined her form betrayed her holographic nature. Despite her professed age, she appeared no older than him.
Kalev couldn’t contain his blushing cheeks. “Ah, call me Kalev.”
“Kalev.” Neria smiled, turning on her heels to face him. “It is a good name. It means ‘heart,’ in Edenic.”
His cheeks darkened even more.
Neria resumed her pacing. “Earth faces imminent invasion by a technologically superior force, with no means to defend itself.” She continued, clasping her hands behind her back. “The Imperium will strip its resources, conscript its population, and destroy its cultural identity—all while claiming it’s for their own good.”
Kalev looked downward, nodding, suddenly finding himself unable to meet her eyes. “Yes. That is their aim. My nation’s aim.”
“And your resistance movement can not directly confront them.”
“Correct. We do not.”
“I imagine you came here, hoping that I could provide some kind of weapon?” She turned to face him again, eyes regarding him cautiously.
Kalev shook his head. “The Commander and I assumed it was possibly a defensive measure, like a planetary shield. Or a means to summon the aid of a more advanced civilization. A ‘beacon,’ of sorts.” He looked up at Neria’s face, finally meeting her eyes.
Hana’s voice resonated from Kalev’s tablet. “How’s it going in there, Kal? The Imperium’s answer to the problem we’re posing them is ‘send more troops.’”
“U—understood. I’m making progress. It’s not like I can push a button here. We have to come to a mutual understanding.” He could have sworn Neria’s cheeks reddened slightly.
“Alright, well, date night can wait until after the Imperium stops trying to kill us! Out.” The communication channel closed, leaving the room in eerie silence.
Neria turned to face away from him. “I assume you had further mission parameters.”
“Yes.” Kalev’s throat tightened.
“Clearly, regardless of what the Beacon System’s capabilities might be, the facility falling into their hands would yield them a tremendous advantage.”
“Yes.”
“So much so that you could not allow for the possibility of the facility falling into their hands.”
“Yes.”
“And so, your final mission parameter was to destroy the Xenara III Beacon System Facility.”
Kalev’s voice choked. “Y—yes.”
“You must kill me.”
Kalev winced, eyes watering. “…yes.”
She disappeared, only to appear directly in front of him. She reached for his face with both hands; he didn’t flinch. Her hands gently clasped his cheeks, and he turned his gaze towards her.
“I understand, Kalev.” The look on her face as their eyes met combined sadness, loneliness, fear, and resignation, but under that… serenity. “We have much work to do, and little time.”
He had no answer. How could he? He managed a slight nod.
Neria smiled softly and stepped back slightly, folding her arms behind her again. Her smile turned slightly playful. “I must correct some of your assumptions. Doctor Elijah Nowak was my… creator. My father. Oh, if the two of you could have met…” She shook her head. “He gave me a singular purpose: to seek emergent civilizations, select from among them an individual with certain desirable qualities, and empower that individual to lead their people into the galactic community.”
Kalev’s eyes widened. Not a weapon. Not a shield. Something far more elegant—and potentially far more powerful. “The Commander said you could give Earth a fighting chance, but this… you mean… you can elevate someone? Grant them knowledge or abilities beyond their current development?”
Neria smiled. “Yes, that’s exactly it!” She gestured to the open space in the spherical chamber. A holographic image of the galaxy appeared, spinning silently. Dozens of points illuminated among the stars. Most were red. Many were orange. Some were yellow. There were few in green.
Her smile faded, shoulders slumping. “Almost every terminal is offline or damaged…” She turned to him. “What are the coordinates for this ‘Earth’?”
“Ah, here.” He tapped on his tablet screen, then flicked his hand. A holographic data point appeared, floating in the air.
“Ah… yes, a Beacon Terminal is there. Stand by, accessing real-time network.” Her eyes glowed brighter. The image of the galaxy swiftly zoomed. A small, blue planet with oceans and clouds, and multiple large continents. A blinking orange light appeared near the western shore of one continent, nestled near a secluded bay.
“System designated Shemesh. Single star, still in main sequence. Third planet. Local designation is… ‘Sol III.’ ‘Earth.’”
“How do you know their local name?”
Neria smiled brightly. “Dr. Nowak gave me the capability to access my terminals instantaneously, no matter the distance. Local communications and data networks are developed, but accessible.” She paused. “As for how I can help… are you familiar with the Essentia property known as ‘Metagen’?”
“Metagen? Yes… manipulation of magical energy that is completely innate, even more so than sorcery.”
“Yes! The locals call them ‘metahumans.’ Wait… why…? Oh.” The glow around Neria faded to blue again. “The damage to the terminal.”
“Damage?” Kalev glanced at her.
“The Terminal’s location was near a major interstellar ley line intersection, but the region also experienced greater-than-predicted geological instability. Approximately 310 years ago, a major earthquake struck the region. Metagenic energy has been leaking… interacting with dormant individuals. Few, but enough that—.” She interrupted herself, looking upward. “Multiple new ships have exited hyperspace.”
Hana’s voice rang out again. “Kal! It’s getting hot out here!”
Neria answered, her aura returning to a brilliant gold. “Knight Orion, this is Neria. I require ten minutes to prepare. I will have an additional request for you shortly. Can you and Zara buy this time? I will direct additional resources to assist you and your ship.”
There was a brief pause. “Check. You’ll get your time. I might break some dishes, though.”
Neria smiled softly. “It’s fine. I was planning to redecorate, anyway.”
“Ha! I’m on it. Orion, out.”
* * *
Neria paced the floor of the platform, drifting to a series of displays. “I must first start an emergency self-repair of the terminal.”
“Is the damage that bad?” Kalev stepped behind her, looking over her shoulder.
“If I started the transmission now, there is a 98% chance of a catastrophic release of energy that could cause planetwide instability. A leak of metagenic energy on a planetary scale is inevitable, but I will do my best to limit its impact. This should not take long. I can begin the search for a candidate in the meantime.”
Kalev grimaced. “I understand. If I may ask… what are your criteria?”
Neria blushed. “The full set of data points is… extensive. But the five most important: I’m looking for neural patterns that form connections between seemingly unrelated fields of knowledge—someone who sees patterns others miss.”
She walked up to a set of large holographic displays that were scrolling through incredible amounts of data. “The candidate must have faced ethical dilemmas and chosen principle over experience, even at personal cost.”
Leaning closer to one display, she waved her hand, unnecessarily interacting with the display. “Dr. Nowak insisted that power without perspective leads to distortion. The candidate must have deep connections to others who will provide both support and accountability.”
She stroked her chin, watching the displays intently. “I seek someone who has showed the ability to integrate new information that contradicts their existing worldview—a mind that can grow without breaking. With… some allowances for natural surprise. Change is difficult.”
Stolen novel; please report.
“And ideally, someone who exists between worlds or roles—neither fully an outsider nor completely embedded in existing power structures. This allows them to effect change without being constrained by established systems.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “These five primary traits must all exist within the candidate. It’s… surprisingly restrictive.” She glanced back at the display. “Of course, geographic proximity to the Terminal is quite helpful.”
Her posture suddenly straightened, her hand covering her mouth.
“What is it, Neria?”
She held her hand to a display, then spun on her heel to face him, a wide smile across her face. “I found her, Kalev!” She clasped her hands together, closing her eyes, whispering. “Thank you, father. You did it. You were right.”
The holographic display shifted, revealing a slender teenage girl walking a moonlit path through dense trees. Kalev leaned forward, studying her with the same careful attention he’d give an ancient artifact.
She moved with purpose rather than wandering—following some predetermined route while occasionally glancing skyward through gaps in the canopy. With a practical half-ponytail holding back her honey-blonde hair, she carried what looked like a star chart in one hand and a small notebook in the other. Every few steps she’d stop, consult both, then make a notation.
Neria glanced at additional displays, scrolling information. “Her name is ‘Emily Parker.’”
“She’s young.” Kalev observed.
“What else do you see?”
“She moves between two worlds. Scientific interest and wonder. See how her expression changes when she looks up to the sky?” How long had it been since he truly <i>felt</i> wonder?
Neria leaned against his arm. He felt… warmth. He glanced at her. Her eyes were closed. “I… feel guilty. This process will transform her—against her will—changing her world irrevocably. But there’s no time.”
As if punctuating the point, Hana’s voice urgently called out. “Kal! They’ve launched a concentrated assault on the north quadrant. How much longer?”
Neria frowned. “The Terminal repairs are at 62%. But every defense protocol I activate reduces my transmission capacity. I… have hard choices to make about what knowledge to prioritize.”
“It’s going to take us some more time. Can you hold them?”
Another pause. “Yeah. I can do that. Orion, out.”
“She could not hide her exhaustion this time.”
“My sister’s always been tough.”
“It must be wonderful to have a family you can…” Neria’s voice trailed off. “Yes. Of course.”
“Hm? What is it, Neria?”
“Would you help me create a daughter?”
Kalev’s eyebrows shot up, then settled as he caught that glint in her eyes. He counted his blessings that he hadn’t taken a sip of water just then.
“That’s…” He cleared his throat, failing to fight a smile. “…quite an accelerated relationship timeline. But given our circumstances, I suppose traditional courtship is rather impractical.”
“I hope you’ll forgive skipping our first date.” The jovial smile and joke didn’t quite reach her eyes, but Kalev smiled in return, regardless.
“I’ll take… I’ll…” Words escaped him.
Neria rested her hand on his chest. “Don’t worry, Kalev. I will give her the best of both of us.” She held out her other hand to the center of the platform. A cylindrical column of light formed, motes of magical energy and… <i>nanomachines?</i> …began coalescing within.
“Will she be ready in time?”
“Not as much as I’d like for her to be. But she will learn and grow. Perhaps one day, she will surpass me.” Neria smiled. “I’ll give her a companion device that will help her maintain her form for now. I’m afraid I don’t have enough time to explain much more.”
Her fingers traced complex patterns in the air. “And for you and Hana… a few enhancements to your ship and Zara. Just small fragments of myself, hidden where the Imperium won’t think to look.” She paused and chuckled, making one more gesture. “Ah, and a gift for Zara. I think she’ll appreciate it.” She smiled impishly.
Hana’s voice came through again, now with the unmistakable sounds of weapons fire in the background. “They’re deploying Acolytes! Freaking ACOLYTES! Since when does a scouting force carry Acolytes?!”
Zara added, calmer but also clearly strained, “Four assault teams converging on the north ridge. Two more circling to the eastern jungle valley. The facility defenses are intercepting about 60% of the incoming fire, but they’re adapting quickly.”
A distant explosion rattled the chamber.
“Hana’s currently engaging three specialized combat units with arcanotech suppression capabilities,” Zara continued. “I figure we can hold the perimeter for about four more minutes before we’re forced to fall back to your position.”
“Understood.” Kalev’s eyes remained fixed on the forming nanocolony. “We need maybe three. Focus on defending the Maverick when you fall back.”
“Then you’ll have three—<i>ngh!</i>” Hana’s voice was suddenly tight. “Just… hurry it up.”
Neria frowned. “I will summon additional defenses, but… I won’t be able to send any additional information to Emily.” She looked down. “She won’t know how she got her powers, or why.”
Kalev frowned. “We’ll have to trust in her. But I promise I will find my way to her.”
Neria nodded, her shoulders relaxing slightly, before returning her concentration to her multitude of tasks. “Repair of the terminal is now at 78% completion. This will have to be enough. I can’t guarantee there won’t be side effects, but they won’t be immediately catastrophic.” She glanced at another display. “Transmission payload is as complete as I can make it. Charging the transmitter array. I’ve materialized additional defenses around it, and one supporting the landing platform.”
Her voice grew more distraught as she continued. “Nanocolony formation 90% complete. Local knowledge transfer will take less energy, but I can’t give her everything. I… I don’t even know what we’ll call her…” Her voice cracked.
Kalev rested his hand on her shoulder. “Nerit. We’ll call her Nerit.”
“Nerit,” Neria repeated softly, her golden light pulsing brighter for a moment. “It’s beautiful.”
Their eyes met, and something shifted in the charged air between them. Without warning, Neria pressed her palm against his chest, her form glowing more intensely. “Kalev, I need to tell you—”
The chamber rumbled again, more violently this time.
“—I’ve spent 3,774 years surrounded by the sum of New Eden’s knowledge,” her voice quickened, “and in these few minutes with you, I’ve finally understood why Dr. Nowak programmed me to feel.”
Her hand rose to his face, fingertips tracing his cheek with impossible warmth. “In another life…”
Kalev stepped forward, closing the distance between them. “In another life,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
As their lips met, the golden light of her form seemed to envelop them both. For that suspended moment, the rumbling facility, the pursuing Imperium, the weight of their mission—all of it receded. The connection between them was both electric and impossibly tender, the culmination of her millennia of solitude and his lifetime of searching for understanding.
It wasn’t just their lips touching but something deeper—the brush of one consciousness against another, a sharing of essence that transcended physical form. Kalev felt a whisper of infinite knowledge against his mind, while Neria experienced the chaotic beauty of emotion without simulation or restraint.
They parted slowly, foreheads resting against each other, her form shimmering with heightened luminescence.
“I have to finish,” she whispered, “before it’s too late.”
* * *
Minutes later, the chamber rattled again. Panels of gray composite fell from the ceiling, causing disruptions in the projected holograms.
Neria’s concentration was strained. “Charging complete. Nanocolony formation is complete. Today is Nerit’s birthday, but I won’t be able to celebrate it with her…”
The swirling column of nanomachines coalesced into a small figure no taller than Kalev’s waist. She stood perfectly still, eyes closed as if sleeping, her delicate features caught between childhood and early adolescence—perhaps eight years old in human terms.
Her skin held Neria’s golden-pale luminescence, though solid rather than translucent, with a subtle metallic sheen reminiscent of Kalev’s Orithian heritage, where the light caught her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose. Her hair—a striking silver-blue that mirrored Kalev’s exactly—hung in loose waves to her shoulders, the color shifting like quicksilver when she finally moved her head.
She wore a simple shift of some impossibly light material that seemed to be part of the nanocolony itself, adjusting and settling against her slight frame. Around her left wrist gleamed a bracelet of burnished gold-copper alloy that pulsed with gentle light—clearly the companion device Neria had mentioned.
Neria approached the motionless form, her golden light dimming into a solemn glow. She placed one hand on the child’s forehead and the other over her heart, then closed her eyes. When she spoke, her voice carried a resonance that filled the chamber:
<b><i>“From Eden’s memory to matter born,
Beyond mere code and light transform.
Between the stars, your path will wind,
Now breathe, awake, become defined.
What science forms but cannot give—
A soul to know, to love, to live.”</i></b><i><b></b></i><cite>
</cite>
She bowed her head and whispered. “May it be Your Will, that You bestow upon this vessel the breath of life, a speaking spirit, an understanding spirit, a spirit that will walk in Your Ways.”
The chamber fell silent for one heartbeat, then another. The air itself seemed to hold its breath.
Then Nerit’s chest rose with her first inhalation, and her eyes fluttered open, revealing irises of luminous blue-white with the same subtle geometric patterns that had decorated Neria’s holographic interface. Those ancient eyes in a child’s face created an uncanny effect—newborn innocence carrying fragments of millennia-old wisdom.
Neria’s form flickered momentarily as she gestured toward the girl, and a small cloak of the same shimmering material as the shift appeared around her shoulders. It was both practical and symbolic; protection against a world she was about to enter without her mother to guide her.
“The device around her wrist will help stabilize her form until her chronological age catches up with her appearance,” Neria explained, her voice tight with emotion as she adjusted the cloak’s clasp—a mother’s first and last chance to dress her daughter. “After that, she’ll develop much like any child would.”
Nerit remained silent, her eyes moving cautiously between the two adults, taking in every detail with solemn intensity rather than childish wonder. When her gaze met Kalev’s, there was a flicker of recognition—not memory, but something more fundamental, like cells recognizing their source.
Neria kneeled before the child, her golden form beginning to flicker at the edges as another explosion rocked the facility. She gently adjusted the cloak around Nerit’s shoulders one last time, her touch lingering.
“I won’t be able to see you grow,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the emotion in her eyes. “But I’ve known you your entire life.”
She cupped Nerit’s face between her hands, studying every detail as if committing it to memory, though in truth she was the one who would soon be only a memory.
“Remember this, little one,” Neria whispered, her form growing more translucent with each word. “You were created from knowledge, but born from love.”
She pressed her lips to Nerit’s forehead in a kiss that seemed to transfer light itself, a brief golden glow passing between them. When she pulled away, a single tear—impossibly real from a holographic form—traced down her cheek.
“Find your way. Ask your questions. Light your own path.”
Neria turned to Kalev, her form now barely substantial. “She’ll need you both,” she said simply.
As Neria straightened and turned to face him, Kalev closed the distance between them in two swift strides. He wrapped his arms around her translucent form, somehow solid enough.
“I won’t forget,” he whispered against her fading light.
Her arms encircled him briefly, desperately, her form growing more insubstantial with each passing second. “Find her,” she whispered back. “Find Emily.”
Then she gently pushed him away, toward Nerit, toward escape, toward the future she wouldn’t see.
“Go. Now. And…” She stepped backward. “Thank you for allowing me to fulfill my purpose.”
Kalev kneeled down, scooping Nerit up in his arms. He locked his gaze on Neria. “I love you. Goodbye, Neria.”
“Goodbye, Kalev. Initiating transmission. I love you.”
He took one step backward, then another, then turned on his heels, running.
Neria’s fading form watched him leave. “Kalev! <b><i>LIVE!</i></b>”