CHAPTER EIGHT

Falia

 

Falia stared at the flickering city below and listened to Mineal deliver her daily report with an inconsequential sliver of attention. Opalescent lights from the planet surface merged with the soft amber pinpricks offered by the stars above. They projected their shared luminosity on the black canvas of evening.

Falia loved dusk. It came with a promise taken on trust. A simplicity lost long ago.

“Ma’am, the engineers confirmed the low levels of Eitr you predicted. Projections indicate Lenora will use the last reserves in one hundred years and three years.” Mineal’s voice lacked any emotion.

Falia turned from the night-scape. Placing the Graesians in quarantine had consumed an enormous quantity of Eitr, putting Lenora in imminent danger of collapse.

That looming threat had absorbed much of Falia’s, and Aurora’s, attention for the past six hundred years. Producing Eitr artificially was incredibly inefficient. Lenoreans had mined entire galaxies just to prolong their existence a few hundred years.

The edge of the cliff drew near. There was nothing more to be done.

Falia knew a solution had been discovered in another Dimension. With an infinite number of Dimensions spawned every instant the probability was near certain. If only they could find one of those worlds in time.

“Ryol reports first contact with the alien species of Planet XXV,” Mineal continued.

Falia redirected more attention at the mention of Ryol’s name. It filled her with pride to know the survival of her people, her planet, rested in the hands of her daughter.

Ryol had been born unremarkable, but in her short lifespan she had achieved more than the probabilities could have predicted.

“Thank you, Mineal,” Falia said, holding up a hand to signal for Mineal to cease with the report. “Keep me apprised of Ryol’s findings. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must meet with First Engineer Chereal.

The world slipped through the cracks as she closed her eye. Her body compressed into her naval before exploding out into billions of particles. Falia floated through the void that was neither light nor dark, before the pieces of her fragmented body called out to one another, and drew back together like a magnet raked across iron shavings.

When she opened her eyes she stood in knee-deep snow. Thick snowflakes drifted through the air around her, coating her hair and clothing. A cold wind blew over the snowcapped hills to greet her, tugging at the loose corners of her robe.

Ignoring the cold and ice, she released a deep breath that crystallized the air around her lips. A cabin, glowing from inside with a gentle amber light, beckoned to her.

Chereal stood on the porch holding a steaming mug in either hand. His silent promise of warmth and shelter made Falia shiver and smile.