[LEGACY VERSION] The Emperor of Time (Book 1 - The Kaireyeh Chronicles)

Chapter 25 - Barenin

Barenin stepped out of parted spacetime onto the bridge of an Aezthena ship. The hum of the ship mind brushed against his thoughts, though its thoughts were closed to him. The Kaireyeh in the bones of the ship warmed his senses. As the nanites restored his eyes, he took in curved white walls, white deck, and white ceiling. There was almost no scent in the air, or the taste of the recycler filters that was in every human vessel and station. There was almost no air. The ship had no sound, no hum of machinery.

This was a place he knew. If Barenin had been more human at that moment, he might have felt nostalgia for his own ship that he'd left behind. He had spent decades in his ship, travelling from world to world as Kaireyeh called him, per the penance mandates of the Thousand Worlds. And there had only been a thousand or so worlds left intact after the fracturing of spacetime. He had done his best to heal the wounds Kaireyeh showed him, the most blatant wounds the Aezthena had wrought in the fabric of sentient spacetime. He had done his best to keep the damage from spreading, and repair what might never fully be repaired.

But this was not his ship. The memories in this ship were different. Sharper. More poignant, and heightened in every way.

Sela stood on the other side of a circular couch, just beyond the gap in the two halves. She watched him, her Aezthena-pale face impassive, eyes golden.

"You brought your ship," Barenin said. Then realized his error. "No, you built a ship." The hum was slightly different, and not a variance that would have come from substituted parts. The engine core was different. He noticed other things. The pathways of the ship's mind he could touch were well-worn. Sela's personality had left its mark on the ship's mind, and everything here had the feel of long habitation. "How old is this ship? Sela, how long have you been here?"

She blinked, slowly, silver lashes playing out in a moment of hesitation. She kept up her battery on his mind. She knew if she stopped, he could trap her, or at least thwart her. They had always been too evenly matched.

Barenin spread his hands. "I don't want to fight you. Please, Sela."

Her attack didn't waver. It is much more efficient to speak within our thoughts.

Barenin stepped forward. "Yes, but it is not how I wish to speak with you." He took her in with all of his senses. He studied her face, her edges, the wisps he caught of her thoughts. They both had solid walls up. But he had never been able to fully separate himself from those he cared about.

You've been too long among the humans, Sela said. Her smooth brow creased. The upper layers of her thoughts, those that would normally only give the barest leak beyond her walls, filled with a growing apprehension.

"And how long--" Barenin ran out of breath. There was not enough air in the ship. How long have you been here? This ship is old, Sela. It's imprinted with your personality, and that takes centuries. I thought, when you came back, it would be close to the time I came back.

She tilted her head. But you didn't come back to the time you thought you would. That troubles you.

He took another step closer. Why did you do it, Sela? Why did you destroy Hale? Why use weaponized Kaireyeh, why use it on me now? You know its dangers. And you know me. Why are you trying to destroy me?

Her attack faltered, then ceased.

Barenin didn't retaliate. He rebuilt his shields, but made no other move than that.

Sela crossed the distance between them in an instant. She reached to touch his face. He didn't move. Her fingers were cool and smooth on his cheek. Sela dropped the walls holding back her thoughts. Barenin hesitated, then reinforced his own walls. He couldn't afford to let her in. Not the whole way, not here when she had him and those he cared about at her mercy. But his tendency to leak thoughts with those he loved went both ways.