difficult to tell the difference sometimes. Once we attain a complete, spiritual union with the tech, the path will be revealed. In our enlightenment, we shall at last understand the will of the tech, and the will of the universe."
When Galen did not respond, Gowen stood as well, an awkward silence filling the cramped room.
"I'm sorry we have grown apart," Gowen said.
"I know there are things that happened on the rim, of which you cannot tell me. I wish I understood. Even without understanding, I count myself your friend. I know that, without your help, Blaylock would not have returned from Thenothk. For that I am forever grateful."
Galen looked down, remembering how little he had cared for Blaylock's safety then. Gowen gripped his arm, and Galen fought the urge to pull away.
"Please don't do anything rash. Or anything that might bring you to harm. Blaylock speaks very highly of you, though I think you may not know it. He actually believes, of all of us, you may be closest to the tech."
A harsh bitter laugh escaped Galen, and Gowen jumped, releasing him.
"That is a compliment," Gowen said.
"I know. I'm sorry. You surprised me."
Galen went to the door, pressed the control to open it.
"Thank you for your help."
"I was glad for the opportunity." Gowen stepped out and bowed.
"The blessing of Wierden upon you."
As Galen bowed, the door closed between them. He straightened and stood still for a time, the exercises running through his mind, narrowing his focus, strengthening the walls around him. And then he did something he had not done since he'd arrived in this place. He knelt before the bottom dresser drawer and slid it open. Inside, the bloodstained scarf lay folded in a neat bundle, alone. It did not affect him as he feared it might.
He pulled off his gloves, set them to one side. He scooped out the neat bundle, sat with it on the bed. He ran his raw fingers over the bumpy, smudged surface. She seemed so far away now. Her face, the sound of her voice, were lost to him. It was hard to believe that he had been in love, that she had loved him, and that they had been happy, even for a short time.
She had believed there was an order to the universe, a design. She had thought the design was revealed through scientific law, the order created by God. She'd hoped her research into the tech would give her greater insight into that order. She'd never known that their powers had not arisen through the design of any god, but through the design of the Shadows. If she'd known, she would have told him that the Shadows' design could be transcended, that he needn't destroy.
He was trying, had been trying for a long time now. It seemed like forever. But the tech wanted only to kill, and he was tired of fighting it. Only two more need die, if he could just get free of this place.
Galen accessed the healing organelles moving through his body. He selected one in his spinal cord, directed it down a capillary that wound around the transceiver and the surrounding nerves. The organelle's sensors created a visual image in his mind's eye, showing him the clear plasma streaming through the narrow capillary, the line of large, lozenge-shaped red blood cells tumbling ahead of and behind the organelle. Through the transparent wall of the capillary, he could see the thick golden rope of tech, and at its end, the swollen cluster like a bunch of grapes that formed the transceiver.
Reflecting variations in energy, the golden skin pulsed lighter and darker as the tech cycled through its processes. It was alive, was part of him. Carrying his DNA along with other, unknown DNA, it had intertwined with his systems, insinuating its way deep into him, growing to reflect him, to echo his thoughts.
Microcircuitry directed its growth and functioning, carrying the purpose of its creators, the programming of destruction. Once it had thoroughly infiltrated him, he had become something divided, something of two parts, a techno-mage. Without it, he was no
When Galen did not respond, Gowen stood as well, an awkward silence filling the cramped room.
"I'm sorry we have grown apart," Gowen said.
"I know there are things that happened on the rim, of which you cannot tell me. I wish I understood. Even without understanding, I count myself your friend. I know that, without your help, Blaylock would not have returned from Thenothk. For that I am forever grateful."
Galen looked down, remembering how little he had cared for Blaylock's safety then. Gowen gripped his arm, and Galen fought the urge to pull away.
"Please don't do anything rash. Or anything that might bring you to harm. Blaylock speaks very highly of you, though I think you may not know it. He actually believes, of all of us, you may be closest to the tech."
A harsh bitter laugh escaped Galen, and Gowen jumped, releasing him.
"That is a compliment," Gowen said.
"I know. I'm sorry. You surprised me."
Galen went to the door, pressed the control to open it.
"Thank you for your help."
"I was glad for the opportunity." Gowen stepped out and bowed.
"The blessing of Wierden upon you."
As Galen bowed, the door closed between them. He straightened and stood still for a time, the exercises running through his mind, narrowing his focus, strengthening the walls around him. And then he did something he had not done since he'd arrived in this place. He knelt before the bottom dresser drawer and slid it open. Inside, the bloodstained scarf lay folded in a neat bundle, alone. It did not affect him as he feared it might.
He pulled off his gloves, set them to one side. He scooped out the neat bundle, sat with it on the bed. He ran his raw fingers over the bumpy, smudged surface. She seemed so far away now. Her face, the sound of her voice, were lost to him. It was hard to believe that he had been in love, that she had loved him, and that they had been happy, even for a short time.
She had believed there was an order to the universe, a design. She had thought the design was revealed through scientific law, the order created by God. She'd hoped her research into the tech would give her greater insight into that order. She'd never known that their powers had not arisen through the design of any god, but through the design of the Shadows. If she'd known, she would have told him that the Shadows' design could be transcended, that he needn't destroy.
He was trying, had been trying for a long time now. It seemed like forever. But the tech wanted only to kill, and he was tired of fighting it. Only two more need die, if he could just get free of this place.
Galen accessed the healing organelles moving through his body. He selected one in his spinal cord, directed it down a capillary that wound around the transceiver and the surrounding nerves. The organelle's sensors created a visual image in his mind's eye, showing him the clear plasma streaming through the narrow capillary, the line of large, lozenge-shaped red blood cells tumbling ahead of and behind the organelle. Through the transparent wall of the capillary, he could see the thick golden rope of tech, and at its end, the swollen cluster like a bunch of grapes that formed the transceiver.
Reflecting variations in energy, the golden skin pulsed lighter and darker as the tech cycled through its processes. It was alive, was part of him. Carrying his DNA along with other, unknown DNA, it had intertwined with his systems, insinuating its way deep into him, growing to reflect him, to echo his thoughts.
Microcircuitry directed its growth and functioning, carrying the purpose of its creators, the programming of destruction. Once it had thoroughly infiltrated him, he had become something divided, something of two parts, a techno-mage. Without it, he was no
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