Tribes Gather - Chapter Seven

He awoke suddenly and disoriented. How long had he been hallucinating? When did he fall asleep? Still blank-eyed, he rolled out of bed to check up on the navigation metrics.

The one man ship that had been given to him was one of the best in its class. It was powered by the ancient but much reliable anti-gravitic propulsion system, with a quantum microniser to boot. The ship’s titanium alloy hull protected it against much of the space debris that came its way. With the disorientation showing no signs of letting up, he made his way towards the cubicle that he called a washroom.

The entheogen was still running strong in his system, and as he looked into the mirror he could sense his left eye melting and reemerging onto his face. For some reason his nose seemed inclined to fall below his mouth and the right eye brow wanted to merge with his jet black locks of wavy long hair. Each of his earlobes drooped in a way that would have put a Ruulin’s lobe to shame, and his adam’s apple was undecided about its proper position in his throat. Enjoying this bizarre assault on his senses, he lifted up his hands to reflect in the mirror. The left one had shrunk to the size of what his fist would have been on normal size, while the right one was showing the impulse to inflate.

From somewhere on the internal hull behind him, his own face, without the hallucinatory morphing, emerged expressionless. His real self was drawn to the image and all of a sudden he was confused as to which one of him was real. He observed the new image: deep eyes with a dark brown iris and black pupil to match his long black hair; a sharp, attractive nose and equally sharp chin. He was on the verge of deciding that the image was his real self, and not the ever morphing reflection in the mirror, when the image began making small adjustments. He watched, mesmerised, as the nose went back in a bit, hair receded in length, and iris changed colour to pale blue. He gasped in surprise. Father!

How are you my son? To his already perplexed auditory sense, the voice seemed to come from right within him, echoing painfully along each vein and artery as it passed through.

“What is happening to me?” He cried out loud, making his eardrums vibrate with agonising cruelty.

Do not be alarmed my son! You are safe! I am here to help you settle your thoughts.

Wishing for this new hallucination stop, he dragged himself to his bed and fell onto it. Gathering his heat-inducing wrapper around him he closed his eyes, hoping that he would fall asleep.

Karunik! The so far calm and soothing voice was harsh this time, and it made him open his eyes with a jerk.

Overpower your diluted senses boy! Is this how a Tridarthi takes his soma?

He felt a little orientation seep into him. Where are you father?

Around you, inside you, as always…my son.

Trying to ignore the growing sensation that his tongue had suddenly disappeared, he sat up and looked around at the hull surrounding him. It was shrinking towards him and receding back like a calm tide. Through a window next to his bed he stared out at the light of stars that would periodically blind the vision.

Home is a long way away Karun. And you must take numerous detours.

He was getting used to the voice now, and was replying by his own thoughts.

As I always knew I must father, but what is this new challenge opening up for me?

Not everything is in our control son, if it ever was. The same forces that thwarted our expansion millennia ago are awakening even as we open our eyes once again.

And am I to face these forces unprepared? Alone?

Never! Do you think I would let my son, crown prince of the entire Manushya race, wade his way through unknown lanes of this universe unaided and unprotected? No, I am working on our lines in this great script even as we speak.

And what is the next step for me father? Where shall I go to risk my life now?

Do not mock your Father-King Karunik! I ask you to do what is only your duty to! You have a responsibility towards your people, and to fulfill it is all they ask of you.

Karunik bowed his head, the effects of the entheogen now almost gone, to be replaced by the feeling of resentment that was as much a part of him as his blood. But I tire father, tire of seeing our race manipulate our own children such. And I tire of being at the helm of this deceit that we are concocting.

It is not a deceit Karunik. You must stop thinking of them as our own children, they are such children that would rip the intestines of their own progenitors. They do not remembers us, and they do not recognise us. Will you stand up to your duty Crown Prince?

Reluctantly, he nodded.

He could not see it, but he sensed his father smiling. I have faith in you my son. You must now make your way to the Ruulin world, where a threat looms that would destroy all our best laid plans.