Metamorphosis, Aer-ki Jyr [best classic literature .txt] 📗

take it one level at a time trying to figure it out as we go along.”

“But ultimately you need to figure it out?”

“I don’t see how we can’t if we keep moving forward.”

“Then your objective isn’t truly to understand the nature of the universe. That is a side effect. Your objective is to continue moving forward.”

“And we can’t do that standing still.”

“So how do you keep moving forward?”

Paul put his hands behind his head. “Right now I’ve got plenty to chew on. But later…it’s not going backwards. Not to the fleet. Not to the Empire. Building it is a challenge already completed. Upgrading it may be another one, but maintaining it is not. We’ve got plenty of others for that anyway. You included. Is that where your path travels?”

“For now. Nothing ever stays the same, and what you built could be lost if not adjusted over time. There is significant importance and challenge in that for someone like me, but it would be repetitive for you. You are a storm, never staying in the same place. Always moving. Always in action. If you stop, you cease to exist. You are transition incarnate.”

“I can’t argue with that. And I kinda like it,” Paul said, closing his eyes and beginning to drift off to sleep as he listened to the rain-like sound of the sand hitting the inside wall of the tunnel and bouncing onto the tent door in repetitive spurts that continued to get louder and more intense. But the more intense it got the more Paul relaxed, and Cal-com noticed as he continued to monitor his friend’s condition with his Regenerator.

“You truly are a creature of action,” he whispered after Paul was out hard.

The temperature was dropping fast, so Cal-com turned up the rooftop heater a bit more while laying a blanket over Paul, careful to not wake him, but the Archon didn’t even notice. Whatever changes were taking place inside him were occupying his attention, and Cal-com was concerned with how vulnerable Paul was. As strong and wise as he was, in this state the weakest of enemies could walk up on him and kill him with a single shot to the head.

That wasn’t going to happen with Cal-com here, though he had no idea who or what this vision was. And if it was an enemy, how would he defend his friend against it?

4

Paul woke again before the storm had passed, sitting up and rubbing his forehead as he tried to wash the sleepiness out of his senses. Ever since his transformation into a Saiyan, sleepiness was something he’d had very little experience with, but it was slamming him now, and in a way that was refreshing…despite the fact he felt like going back to sleep immediately after waking.

“Any new dreams or revelations?” Cal-com asked as the tent door continued to vibrate in the wind coming through the short tunnel.

“Just wondering why I wake up more tired than before I went to sleep,” he said, sitting up and scooting back against the pile of packs so he had something to lean on as he tried to relax the sleepiness out of his head.

“Why not try and sleep more?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it was getting too shallow.”

“So now as you get more active the sensation deepens. It suggests your rest state isn’t very efficient. Perhaps a side effect of continued effort.”

Paul frowned. “So my body has to relearn how to fully rest?”

“Possibly. Or it may be additional changes,” Cal-com suggested, crawling over on his knees until he got within range to attach his armor’s probe to his friend’s arm so he could scan his genetic code.

“Odd. I’m not seeing any change this time.”

“None?”

“Not genetically. I expected a gradual decline, not a sudden stop.”

“Stupid,” Paul cursed at himself. “This didn’t all start because I took a break and started to relax. I also stopped using Essence…until now.”

“You think it interferes in the adaptation process somehow?”

“Of course it does. I should have seen this earlier. Essence must be the root of all adaptation, and the lesser it connects to the body the less it can have that effect. Draining Essence partially separates the body from it, disrupting or postponing the adaptation.”

“No,” Cal-com said firmly. “You are grasping the truth but it is slipping through your fingers.”

Paul looked at him oddly, sensing his voice patterns alter a bit. He looked around the tent, stretching his senses to see if he could detect any anomalies, but before he could find them Cal-com alleviated the need for such a search.

“I am speaking to you, and my ability to do so is limited. Your ability to adapt is not rooted in Essence, but something else you have not discovered. You have stumbled upon it, and that contact has precipitated the changes in you. They are multiple. You have a lot of unpacking to do from numerous sources.”

“Who are you?”

“Paul?” Cal-com said, looking at him oddly. “Are you alright?”

“What did I just say?”

“You asked who I am.”

“Before that?”

“You were silent for a long moment.”

“3rd vision.”

Cal-com’s chin raised. “What was it this time?”

“You talking again, but more pointedly. And I can feel the fatigue again. I am being drained somehow.”

“What did my twin have to say?”

“That adaptation is not rooted in Essence, but something else. Something that I’ve stumbled upon without realizing it.”

“Then there is someone else here.”

“That or my imagination has upgraded considerably.”

“Where?”

Paul shook his head. “I don’t know. Nothing conventional. Scan me for implants, no matter how small.”

Cal-com connected a nanite tendril coming out of his shoulder plate to Paul’s arm. “If there were I would not have missed them previously. Have you developed a new ability not yet logged?”

“I can’t feel anything.”

“The Regenerator can