Keitus Vieta is nothing more than a projection. The small man hunched before me holding his black cane with the shining blue jewel is an image; the tiny, transparent numerics flickering in the air just above him confirms it.
“Control, explain this projection.”
The projection is a live data stream focused on the Soul Consortium aberration defined as Keitus Vieta. This projection is located in the Observation Sphere. It is—
“Yes, yes, I know what it is. What’s it doing here? Who did this and why?”
Purpose unknown. The Quasi-Organic Deity was studying the aberration.
“Qod? How? Why?”
Unknown.
“Did Qod leave a message?”
Unknown.
“Did she file any notes in connection with Keitus Vieta?”
Annotations have been created as a Keitus Vieta file.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this when I first asked about Qod?”
You did not request information on Keitus Vieta.
I pause, staring at the image: an older version of Brother Sunny, much older even than the man I knew from the lives of Orson Roth and Dominique Mancini. There is very little background image to see exactly where he is, but it looks dark and ravaged, a rocky desert in a gloomy, bruise-red hue. His shrunken, bald head is lit by the pulsating blue of his cane, and there is a madness in his swollen eyes, an eagerness fermented by the aeons of time. And then he looks directly at me.
Cold shock as we make eye contact. Can he really see me?
The old man’s lips quiver into a mocking smile, forming soundless words. I can read them, almost hear them. “Give her back, Salem. I am waiting.”
I turn, walk away without a word, not caring what he meant, numb horror driving me out of the Observation Sphere.