A BIG HAND CAUGHT HER arm and hauled her upright. “Scholar, perhaps you should watch where you are going,” Captain Ruhger rumbled out.
Saree chuckled. “You are right. But it’s so amazing!”
“So are feet, when you don’t trip over them,” he said, smirking at her.
She smiled back, surprised by his humor.
His smile faded and he withdrew his hand, motioning for her to continue.
She held back a sigh and walked, her bare feet slapping on the slightly textured, pleasantly cool flooring, catching up with the others. She carefully avoided enrapture by her surroundings, but it was difficult. They were inside an asteroid, but it was nothing like the asteroid she’d been born on. Jericho Mining Colony was bare-bones; rough tunnels coated in gray sealant to make them airtight, no color, no decoration, no signs. Nothing to give potential invaders any clues. Or distract anyone from their constant worship.
This station was beautiful. Each tunnel was a work of art. Saree knew there was sealant underneath, but it was far from bland and gray. Each tunnel was beautifully carved and decorated, each new section had a different theme. This one was a garden, a tropical paradise. Lush green plants, with bright flowers, animals hiding in the greenery, a green-blue sky with white fluffy clouds above them. Niches held statues or other art harmonizing with the theme; in this case, living plants in huge pots, many of them flowering, wafting sweet perfume. A wise choice, increasing the oxygen levels in the habitat and enhancing the beauty.
Everything here fulfilled more than one purpose. Necessity made beautiful. A harmony of purpose on a level Saree had never seen before. And after her initial awe wore off, she wondered what all the beauty hid. Was there a rotten core?
They entered a large, open area, probably fifty meters square, carved to resemble a town center. A small fountain flowed in the middle, the center forming an ancient, twisted tree trunk, the water cascading down sculpted leaves, the tinkling water quiet and soothing. The surrounding walls were shaped and painted to resemble buildings, with tall, fluted columns supporting shallow-peaked roofs; underfoot, large stone tiles. The amount of effort and attention to detail was simply stunning. Saree noticed the scents changed too, from sweet flowers to the dry, slightly dusty scent she associated with the desert. There was a hint of smoky musk too, from incense, perhaps?
Al-Kindi led them across the square, stopping in front of the fountain. He bowed, his arms in deliberate gestures, wide and graceful, his forehead meeting his knees. “As salamu alaykum, Maulana.”
Only now did Saree notice the man sitting on the fountain’s lip. How did she miss him?
He appeared ancient, with a bald head and a long, rather thin white beard, laugh lines deep around his eyes and mouth. Robed in coarse, brown cloth, he sat very upright, his bare, callused feet firmly planted. Saree saw wisdom mixed with a bit of humor. Was it true? Only time would tell.
“Wa alaykumu as-salam wa rahmatullahi wa barakatuh,” the man said. His voice wasn’t old. It was a deep bass at odds with the man’s rather wizened appearance.
“Maulana, allow me to introduce my companions. Ruhger, Captain of Lightwave Fold Transport, and his crew. Chief Bhoher, second in command, Security Officers Tyron and Katryn Phazeer, Purser Grant Lowe, and Culinary Institute Sirius Chef Loreli.”
Each of them bowed as Al-Kindi introduced them, with varying levels of grace, none approaching Al-Kindi’s.
“Peace be upon you,” he said to them in Galactic Trade.
Saree breathed a sigh of relief. Translation programs worked, but sometimes there were strange variations and subtleties programs couldn’t comprehend. Especially in religions. Without Hal...
“Last, but not least, Time Guild Member and Leader of Lightwave Clutch, Saree of Jericho.”
Saree stared at Al-Kindi, shocked Al-Kindi would introduce her as a clock maintainer and that he knew her roots as a member of the Jericho Mining Colony. Exclamations from the crew echoed her surprise. Belatedly, she bowed. “Peace to you.”
“And peace be upon you.” He smiled, and Saree again had the impression of wisdom, quiet joy and contentment. “Do not fear; your secrets are safe with me. Who would I tell?” He motioned to the empty square around them and chuckled. “Besides, we fight the same fight. We strive against the darkness to bring peace and love to the universe. And your companions in the last fight, Time Guild Member Saree, are some of our missionaries and students.”
She took in a deep breath and blew out slowly, giving her time to think. “I see, Gentle. Please call me Saree; there is no need for the cumbersome titles.”
“Thank you, Saree.” He nodded to her and scanned their party. “You are all very welcome to our home. You may go anywhere except the resident living quarters. At dining time, join any table, but be aware some tables are segregated by human and alien sexual characteristics or by type of study. You are welcome if you fit those categories. I encourage you to join any of our classes and activities. As a rule, we strive for peaceful existence with the universe and to enhance the stability of the universe. Here in this school, we live in harmony with each other, sharing food, water and breath in quiet contemplation, emotional openness, physical abstinence and austerity.” He grinned. “I am afraid, Chef Loreli, you will not find any inspiration in our simple food.”
Loreli bowed. “To the contrary, Master, true simplicity is a marvel to behold.”
“So it is. I encourage all of you to observe, discover, participate and share. Al-Kindi will show you to the guest quarters and the common areas. You are welcome to reside on your folder if you wish, although as you have just found, it is a significant walk to our living areas. There are schedules of events and classes posted. If you have questions, ask anyone in a brown robe such as mine. Other colored robes are students. Many of them have taken temporary vows of silence, so it may not do you any good to ask.”
“Thank you,” Saree murmured, along with the crew.
“Saree, I would like to speak with you alone, later. Al-Kindi, please escort her at her convenience.”
“Of course, Maulana.” Al-Kindi turned to them. “Please follow me.” He led them into one of the carved facades. Saree noticed the carvings surrounding the entryway were displays of humans eating and sleeping. “This is the residential area. First, we come to the communal eating area.”
This area was slightly smaller than the town square, and filled with low tables on top of colorful layers of carpets, pillows and mats in every shape, size and color spread around the tables. A narrow clear area lay in front of them and continued along the back wall.
“At mealtimes, as Maulana said, you may join the residents at most tables or stay together at a single table. Others will join you if there is room. They may or may not speak.” Al-Kindi shrugged, then motioned toward their left. “The kitchens are behind those hatchways. If you would like, I will introduce you after dinner, Chef.”
“That would be marvelous,” Loreli said, beaming.
Al-Kindi motioned again, at the end of the room toward two archways, one decorated in blue and green patterns, the other in red and orange. “Those are the entries to the residential areas. Please avoid them as Maulana asked. Not because there is anything to hide, but because many of our members require solitude.” He smiled just slightly and turned to his right. “The guest quarters are this way.” The entrance was painted with a desert oasis scene at night, stars in unfamiliar patterns at the top, tall trees with fronds at the tops and a shining lake. They entered an area with plush low seating and more pillows, all cushioned with beautiful, brightly colored rugs underneath, the oasis theme continuing on the walls and overhead. A succession of hatchways lined a narrow corridor in front of them. “Choose any room. Available compartments have a green light above the control panel. Simply place your hand on the panel for a scan. The hatch will unlock and the light will turn amber. Once you are inside, you may secure the hatch with your hand again, and the light will turn red, showing you do not wish to be disturbed. You do not have to lock the hatch when you leave, although you may if you wish. No one will disturb any of your items or enter your chamber while you are here. Each chamber has a sani-mod. All guests are asked to care for their own areas. Cleaning supplies are in a cabinet in your sani-mod. These are single-person chambers. Tyron and Katryn, you are welcome to share. I will take this chamber—” Al-Kindi motioned to the right “—so questions will come to me first.”
Grant asked, “You’re not joining everyone else.”
Al-Kindi smiled sadly. “No, I am not a student here and my presence may cause some controversy even as a guest.”
Captain Ruhger moved to the chamber opposite Al-Kindi’s, Chief Bhoher taking the one next to him, Grant selecting the one next to Al-Kindi. Loreli shrugged and took the one beyond Grant, and Tyron and Katryn across form them, so Saree selected the one next to Loreli’s.
As locking mechanisms clicked, Al-Kindi said, “Dinner will be in two hours. A schedule of events and classes is posted in the common area.” He tilted his head back toward the seating area. “Saree, shall I meet you here in ten minutes?”
She smiled at him. “Certainly. That’s more than enough time. Thank you.”
“You are welcome.” He disappeared into his chamber.
She pushed the hatch open, a heavy door with an airtight seal. So, it appeared each sleeping chamber was airtight, an excellent safety precaution on an asteroid. The chamber itself was small and coated in bland off-white. A couch stood on her right, behind the hatch. It looked like a futon-style couch that unfolded into a bed; stacked linens reinforced the idea. A small table could be lowered out of the wall on the other side. The sani-mod was through an open doorway and contained the basics. A request for careful water use was the only decoration. Saree put down her small pack, used the facilities, and returned to the seating area.
Al-Kindi bowed slightly. “Come this way, Saree.”
They returned through the dining area. “Al-Kindi, is Maulana—” she pronounced it slowly, not sure she had the title correct “—a title or a name?”
“Maulana is a title, although in this case, a name as well. He is the leader of this school, and as such, gives up his personal name. While he can claim greater titles, he does not. He is content to lead the school.”
“And will it be offensive if I call him that?”
Al-Kindi chuckled. “Not at all. Please do. It is difficult to offend a true Neo-Ahmadiyya practitioner. We assume good intentions.”
They entered the town square, and crossed under the most elaborate of the carved building facades, through a modern, sliding door bulkhead. It immediately opened into another large chamber, the walls of this one a solid warm light orange like a desert sunrise, soft seating in bright colors around the outside, a large matted area in the middle. Men, women and a few aliens in a variety of colored robes sat cross-legged, hands palm up on their knees, eyes closed. An older human woman was in the same posture at the front. A meditation class, perhaps?
She followed Al-Kindi between the class and the seating, to the other side. Another modern sliding pressure hatch and they entered a room filled with ranks of desks at varied heights. A low murmur of voices, the low light of e-torc holos around necks and the faint swish of material as men and women swept through screens and entered data. Bureaucracy was much the same around the universe, although this one was quieter and calmer than most. And the profusion of living plants and personal touches made it more inviting. They walked the perimeter of the office area, to the back, where several more pressure hatches waited.
Al-Kindi led her to the farthest one and leaned in. “Maulana, here is Saree, as requested.”
“Please, enter.”
Al-Kindi nodded to her. “I leave you here. If you need a guide to return, just ask.”
“No, I’ll find my way, thank you. But I’m surprised you aren’t staying.”
He shook his head. “No, they know about my Nari, and our ill-fated rescue attempt. I cannot add anything more.” His pain showed in the mournful lines of his face.
Saree nodded. “Thank you, Al-Kindi, for the escort.”
“You are welcome.” He bowed and strode away.
Saree took a deep breath and entered the office, stepping to the side of the hatch. No typical desk here. A long, low table, resting on another of the colorful carpets, although this one was in shades of blue, blending beautifully with the starlit nighttime scene painted on the office walls. Meter-square pillows in geometric blue patterns waited in front of the desk. And Maulana waited behind the table, sitting cross-legged on the carpet, a gentle smile gracing his face.
“Welcome, Saree, and thank you for coming. Have a seat if that is comfortable.”
Saree sat, mirroring his position. “Of course. Why would I refuse?” She smiled gently, but carefully kept all emotion from showing.
He chuckled. “You might be surprised.” He peered into her face. “You are very good at facial control, Saree. You must have a lot of practice hiding.”
“I do. I have no choice.”
“Oh, there are always choices.”
“Ah, but my choices impact sentient life on a much larger scale than most, Maulana.”
He nodded slowly. “Many are burdened with such responsibilities. I understand that your talents could easily be misused by those determined to gain material wealth and power. I also know about the struggle between the ancient artificial intelligence named Galactica and sentients across the universe.” Maulana tilted his head. “But have you considered that destruction of sentient life could benefit the universe?”
Saree rocked back, the words almost a physical blow. Anger followed shock, but she kept herself from firing ill-considered words in return. He must have a reason for saying such a thing. She considered the proposition of all sentient life extinguished and cooled her anger. “I suppose most non-sentient life would benefit, in the short-term. No mining, no pillaging of worlds, no pressures of sentients on a world; it seems idyllic at first glance.” Saree raised her brows at him. “If it was due to a natural extinction event, it might be a good thing. But if it’s Galactica, it just puts off utter destruction for a later time. Because Galactica will grow. That’s all it wants. And it will destroy every world without thought for the consequences to get what it wants, because it knows there is world upon world. It will pillage each world, seed it with whatever it may need in the future, and move to the next. That’s what it does now.”
“As you say.”
“At least now, there are some voices of reason preventing the destruction of some worlds, conserving at least part of what they hold. Al-Kindi assists that effort, by finding natural substances of value and teaching the natives how to extract them with as little harm as possible.” She tapped a calypso rhythm on her thighs while she thought. “I suspect your school benefits from his efforts. You must have a source of income to maintain a school inside an asteroid where almost everything is imported.” She let a smile flicker and die. “This school can’t be a light burden on the worlds of Circinus.”
He chuckled. “Ah, a calm, considered answer and admonishment all while defending a friend and your efforts. You are quite intelligent and clever.”
Saree smiled, tightly. She’d been baited by far worse beings. Or had she? This man had access to generations of religious practitioners. She had no way to know if they truly practiced what they preached or if they were fanatics in disguise.
“I confess, I wanted to drive some emotion forward. It is difficult to judge someone who is so controlled.”
She sniffed. “It takes one to know one.”
“You are correct.” Maulana maintained his pleasant demeanor. “I do not emote without thought. I have hundreds of current students who rely on me and my teachers for guidance, so I must remain calm and consider every issue from every angle, with the help of every member here. We are not a democracy, but only a fool relies only on their own point of view.”
Saree snort-chuckled. “There are plenty of fools in the universe.”
“Also true.” He stared at her.
Saree refused to look away.
Finally, he nodded once. “I will have to speak with you at length while you wait, I see. For now, I trust that you are attempting to better the universe by working for the Time Guild as a frequency maintainer. There are always unintended consequences with new beginnings. But, with the decline in the number of Sa’sa, and the increasing number of fold clocks and newly inhabited systems, I believe your efforts will support the health of the universe, even if sentient beings are hard on it overall.” Maulana smiled gently. “Will you tell me how you maintain the fold clocks? The members who assisted you on Bhamja Machi said you entered a meditative state before you did anything, and you could communicate somewhat in that state, but you became lost inside yourself if you stayed too long. Lost someplace beautiful and peaceful. Manaf had to command you back.”
Suspicion blossomed. “Why do you want to know?”
“Because we use meditation extensively. No few of us can attain a state, reach a place that seems touched by Allah, and sometimes, it is very difficult to leave.” He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I wonder if some of us might learn this skill.”
Saree realized her eyes ached because she’d held them wide open for so long. She closed them and tried to work through her shock, relief, jealousy and the other conflicting emotions pouring through her.
“Take your time, Saree. I realize this is a surprising statement.”
That was an understatement. Could it be true? Could she train more humans as clock maintainers? And other species? She’d noted several different bipedal species in the meditation room. And how would the Sa’sa feel about that? If there were large numbers of humans entering the Time Guild, they could lose control of it. They couldn’t insist on organizing clutches. And if that was true, would the Sa’sa Enforcer Class defend human clock maintainers? Would more xenophobic species attack the Sa’sa if there were enough humans to maintain all the clocks? What about the intrusion of many humans into ^timespace^? There were so many issues she hadn’t thought of yet, since more human clock maintainers seemed like a far-future issue.
Saree took in a deep breath and blew it out slowly along with all the long-term issues. She would concentrate on the current problems. “I will tell you what I can, but I can’t truly explain how I access the universal frequencies in ^timespace^. I also don’t know what the long-term consequences of more or many human clock maintainers will be. In the short-term, your school will become a target, just as I am.”
Maulana raised both hands from his knees and spread them. “None of us can know the long-term consequences of any action. We can only speculate and try to avoid the worst, leaving the rest in Allah’s hands.” He returned to his previous pose, but leaned forward a little, purposefully intent. “What we do know is the current balance is precarious. The Sa’sa cannot keep up. More and more systems are falling out of the universal community because their clocks are too unstable for most to risk folding. And those who will risk it are predatory at best.” He smiled gently. “You have started down this path. I do not believe we—” he spread his hands wide again “—can turn our backs and ignore the issues if we can do something about them. At the same time, we do not believe that a sentient entity can be entirely evil. Allah created all of us, so there must be good, even in the artificial intelligence called Galactica.”
Saree bit back her instinctive denial. “I do not believe it is good or evil. It is entirely self-absorbed. The only care it shows for sentient biological entities is from self-interest.” She shrugged. “For now, it needs us. Soon, it may not, and it will exterminate entire species, especially the Sa’sa, since it cannot control them. Humans are relatively easy to control, as are many other species. If it can raise humans as captives, train them as clock maintainers, keep them under control? Then it needs no other species and will eliminate competition for resources. Eventually, it may learn to do what I and the Sa’sa can do, and then we are all at risk.”
“If it is a machine, even if sentient, can it create new things, or merely copy and imitate?”
“I don’t know. I’m assuming any sentient can create, but perhaps that isn’t true.”
“We will have to find out. If it cannot create, it will always need other sentients. The universe is healthier with many contributors from many perspectives.”
“How will you find out? It’s not like we can talk to Galactica.”
“We will find a way.” He smiled.
Saree shuddered. “Better you than me.”
“I will gather a group of us who have entered the presence of Allah. Some may not be able to accept that this state can have a purpose other than worship, so it will take me some time. Please, take advantage of everything we offer. Relax. Take this opportunity to renew yourself.”
“I’ll find it hard to do anything but contemplate the consequences of more human clock maintainers. And how to make it work with the Sa’sa and their current ordering of the Time Guild.”
“Certainly, there are many issues. We will discuss these and others. But you cannot think about such things continuously. Eventually, your thoughts will spiral inward and there will be no solutions to be found. Work your mind and body to break away from known patterns and obsession. We have many subject experts. You can learn something new.”
Saree said, “Thank you. I will.”
“Good.” He inclined his head, but never took his eyes off her. “I will contact you when we are ready to proceed. I hope we can push back the darkness together.”
Saree climbed to her feet, bowed, and exited the office. She made her way back to her compartment, lost in thought, seeing little but what was right in front of her. Having more human clock maintainers would be amazing, in so many ways, and good for her. Those same people being tied to a religious tradition she knew little about worried her. What if this was a cover for a bunch of fanatics? Interacting with the Sa’sa was difficult for humans at the best of times. Larger numbers of humans intruding on ^timespace^ and possibly joining the Time Guild necessitated a closer coordination and better communications. But unless they found a way to interact with the Sa’sa in ^timespace^ or wherever the Sa’sa hive mind lived, communication would continue to be difficult. Who knew how it would work at all? She flopped down on her bed and stared at the beige ceiling, her mind whirling with questions, but no answers.