Suriel
looked at me, eyes wide. I felt the grief of ten thousand years. Regret you
can’t shake off. Remorse that nothing in the universe is ever going to expiate.
It wasn’t unfamiliar. “We always/never knew you were/will be here.”
I thought
about that. The Niskivim might have trouble understanding us. But they are not
cruel.
I let out a
breath. “Weren’t even on the map, huh? Okay. I believe you. I always thought your
kin were holding back outside Cibola. I mean, hand to hand combat? You have to
be more capable than that. But what are the khrall? And how the hell did they
get away the first time?”
Shame
washed over Suriel and me, the darkness that hides all secrets. “There were/will
be two/ powers. Niskivim share/grow stronger the more of /us/ there are/will be
becoming. Khrall steal/get stronger/ the less of them there are/were begin to
be. Only nine were/won’t remain.”
Less sense.
There was something he wasn’t telling me. “I mean, what are you fighting for?
What do you want? What’s it all about?”
Suriel
ducked his head toward me, a strange sliding motion. “What/ was is will
be/ ren’al?”
I knew that
word. Memories of my dreams, my hibernation visions of Suriel sitting outside
my cockpit on the way to Thaeron. Of being someone else. Malakan, the man who
would bring the new Profusion, the very first Auger. “A cube,” I said. “That
contains many other cubes of identical size. Probably an infinite number. It
unfolds like a flower. It promises the secrets of the universe. It seems to
give them. It seems to have...strange relationships with both space and....say,
it’s like you, isn’t it?”
Suriel sat back. “Time not/line/ not
circle. More/ dimensions. /Sphere. /Irregular.” He reclined further, satisfied.
“That doesn’t
help!” I said. “How does that connect to anything?’
Suriel
looked frustrated. I felt dumb. “One/all can/not change the /center,” he said.
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