CANAISIS ∞ Chronicle One: The Last Living Ship ∞ 1: A New Mission

38 ∞ Synaptic Storm

Day 00007 Mission Nilex

Gareth stepped over to his desk, took the captain jacket from his chair and shrugged into it, tugging it straight. Next, he picked up his sidearm from the desk and fluidly dropped it into its holster. He felt much better after washing the exertion and adrenaline effects from his skin, more focused now.

«How do I look, Canaisis?»

«Acceptable, Captain.»

Deep in the back of his mind, memories shuffled restlessly, but he ignored them as he fussed with his cuffs.

He sighed. Okay, quit stalling. Turning to head out, he paused and glanced at the monitor on the far wall of his cabin. The image of the sailing ship was breathtaking as it broke the waves at full sheet to the wind. White caps frothed the waves as the wind tore at them, and the storm ahead glowed from the lightning within.

He wanted to go to Ayla but headed for the Bridge instead. There were many aspects of ship-life he could look into to keep busy, but he couldn't find it within himself to have interest. His mind was trying to fit puzzle pieces together. He'd found Ayla at the Tree, and something had obviously been wrong before he arrived.

"Canaisis, bring up the Sol system. Show me a course plot back to Earth."

The forward monitor lit up with a graphic representation of the solar system, and an icon marking their position started blinking. A dotted line showed the return course, along with different colored lines that flowed and curved. These represented the magnetic fields originating from Sol. He stared but wasn't really seeing the monitor. Placing his elbow on the armrest, he rested his chin on his hand.

He'd been nowhere near Ayla when whatever happened had happened. So how could he be responsible? Could she really be empathic enough to experience his emotions? And what did Ahmid mean by saying he'd seen a world die, and Ayla was paying the price?

Yes, he'd gone through a bad time then, but he wasn't emotional about it now. In fact, he'd even told them about it three evenings ago. And he certainly hadn't been upset when telling Ayla about the acorns. That time in his life wasn't something he liked to think about, but he'd learned to deal with it.

"Canaisis, move the course plot over and give me a replay of events in the Garden with Ayla and the Tree."

The graphic display slid to the left, and the center of the monitor opened a window showing the Garden. It was a view from up high and looking down. He saw Ayla walking to the Oak Tree, and then she disappeared as foliage blocked the view. The monitor switched views, and now the view passed the bottom branches. It was moving, descending as it circled the Tree, never losing sight of Ayla.

Canaisis' Butterflies, Gareth realized.

Ayla approached the Tree and lifted her arm to rest her palm on the trunk. She stayed that way for a while, then snatched back her hand.

The viewpoint shifted again. This time, it was stationary, not far above Ayla and looking down—a Butterfly drone perched on a branch. The replay picked up at a repeat of Ayla jerking back her hand. She hugged herself with her head hung down. Gareth leaned forward in his chair as she rubbed her arms. Then she dropped her hands and looked up into the Tree, tears glistening on her cheeks. He leaned closer as she again placed her hand on the Tree trunk and closed her eyes.

Time seemed to stop as he waited for something to happen. After several minutes, Ayla's knees buckled, and she fell. Then she twisted and, with her back against the trunk, curled into a ball. She wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her cheek on them. Eventually, he saw himself enter the scene.