The Needs of the Many Read online

  The Needs of the Many

  The Kyroibi Trilogy

  Book Three

  by

  Christina McMullen

  The Needs of the Many

  Copyright © 2018, Christina McMullen

  All rights reserved.

  Unauthorized distribution or reproduction is strictly prohibited.

  The following is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and brands are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living, dead, or the living dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Illustration & Artwork by Missy Sheldrake

  Title Layout & Design by Christina McMullen

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  A Note from the Author

  Dedicated to anyone who has ever felt destiny is but what we make of it.

  Chapter 1

  They called it the dance of the gods. A great shadow swept black the sky, throwing into chaos the equilibrium of all who chose that moment to look up. From the seeming void, a seraphic glimmer flickered into existence, growing in size until the horizon disappeared in the flutter of a single, brilliant wing.

  Ellie wanted to shield her eyes, but found she could not look away as the rippling sheet of silvery white exploded into billions of twinkling lights. Her breath, held far too long, came out in shallow, trembling gasps as she tried to suppress the outward appearance of her overwhelmed emotional state. When yet another band blocked the scant light of the distant Ghowrn Major, Ellie set aside the crystal cup she’d held tight in her grasp, afraid of dropping or crushing the delicate item in yet another rush of emotion.

  She wiped at a tear, sneaking a glance at her mealtime companion. Ag’iazza’s gaze was also fixed upon the spectacle above them. Ellie noted with some relief that the cracked marble eyes of the elder keeper shone with evidence that she too was emotionally affected by that which was nothing more than a natural phenomena. A fairly common and frequently occurring phenomena at that.

  Despite the ethereal name, the dance of the gods was nothing more than clouds of minerals skimming the outer atmosphere of T’al Eidyn, creating the sparkling light show as some of the dust particulates ignited. When it first happened, Ellie had a too long moment where she believed T’al Eidyn was under attack. Worse, she worried it was her own battalion come to deliver a reckoning to the enemies of peace. It was only the reactions of the scholars around her that gave her a sense that this was something to be expected.

  Still, despite the regularity, the celestial events seemed to be held in high regard. All around her, nearly every temple resident who had taken a moment of respite in the sky garden gazed upward as one, meals and tasks ignored as they watched the ethereal undulations.

  The brief time she’d spent on T’al Eidyn had been more educational than Ellie could have ever imagined. By immersing herself in the culture, she’d learned more about her father’s people than she ever could have discovered from the Kyroibi alone. Life among the Eidyn was fascinating in that it was like nothing she’d seen before, and yet at the same time, so incredibly normal. But of all she’d discovered, there was one fact that struck her as most surprising: The people of Eidyn—the oldest and most advanced civilization in the galaxy—were artistic dreamers.

  With her Earthling mindset, this made absolutely no sense. The Eidyssic were logical, almost to a fault. So scientific that they allowed nothing to go unexplained, going so far as to discover and quantify that which every other culture saw as mystical and based on faith. And yet, her people had more in common with Lord Byron than Mr. Spock. They reveled in the emotional. Art and science were so intertwined that the very concept of left brain versus right was an ideology most Eidyssic found impossible to grasp.

  Once the shock wore off, Ellie noticed her own thoughts strayed towards a desire to create. The room she’d been provided was stocked full of supplies for any medium she wished to explore. When she found her head too full of ideas to sleep, she took to sketching as a method of meditation, drawing everything from the idyllic scenery of Korghetia’s surface to the celestial phenomena that seemed ever present at the temple.

  But ultimately, her heart would override her brain and guide her hand into familiar curves an strokes, sketching that which at one point had been enough of an obsession to fill an entire notebook back on Earth. And as the familiar planes of Julian’s face emerged from the charcoals, so would the sense of guilt. She had come to T’al Eidyn for knowledge, but this was no scholarly retreat.

  Ghowrn was at war.

  Even out here on the furthest planet from the system center, war was hard to ignore. The T’al Kyri temple was the heart of Eidyn and knowledge was more than simply a scholarly pursuit. The lower temple halls and surrounding lawns were the domain of warriors, both veterans and those fresh from taking their three year service pledge.

  Out on the southern border of the temple property, the multi-tiered spaceport of the Eidyssic Volunteer Service flickered with the endless comings and goings of ships. Most ships were headed into what she hoped would not be an all-out war for Sintar’s liberation. That the battle, swift or not, would likely have casualties only served to further instill guilt over her being here and not on the front lines with those she cared about.

  “It’s so beautiful,” Ellie said, tearing her eyes from the dazzling light show as the sky lightened again to the dim twilight that served as day for the remote planet. “But is this normal?” she asked, glancing around at the other temple residents, who were slowly going back to what they’d been doing before the light show began.

  “The dance of the gods is held in reverence here at the temple,” Ag’iazza explained. “Even those of us who have seen more circuits of the Ghowrn stars than most cannot take for granted that which we see as a gift to be cherished.”

  “I can’t say I disagree. I doubt I could ever get tired of watching something so awe inspiring. It’s just that I’m still thinking like an Earthling, I guess.” She let out a small, embarrassed chuckle.

  “Outside the gates of T’al Kyri the world is a little more jaded,” Ag’iazza explained. “The sky isn’t as clear as it is up here. Most enclaves observe only the designated holidays when conditions are best for viewing celestial events. We also light the primary educational sectors to a brighter illumination while classes are in session,” she added with a chuckle of her own. “I don’t believe our young would pay any attention to the educators if they had an unspoiled view of the cosmos to delight them instead.”

  “That makes a lot of sense.”

  Ellie drained the contents of her cup, grateful for the mild stimulant of the tea-like beverage. She had a long afternoon of searching through the archives ahead of her and she needed as much focus as possible.

  “I suppose I should be getting back to work,” she said, noticing with some curiosity that Ag’iazza was assembling a small flute-like instrument.

  “Not yet, you’re not,” the elder replied with a reproachful frown. “You need to stop denying that which your root begs to embrace.” She looked pointedly
at the pad and charcoal sitting at Ellie’s feet.

  “I can’t sit idle while war rages on.”

  “And you’ll not find what you seek with a head clouded by worried intentions,” Ag’iazza admonished. “El’iadrylline, you will find, not just as the true master of the Kyroibi, but as a child of Eidyn, yes, even as one who is also daughter of distant worlds and even more distant stars, that to deny the longing inside your heart is to cloud your mind. I know you’ve spent the last several days searching for answers to questions I can only guess at, but I must urge you to spare this fleeting moment and indulge your heart just this once. I promise, you will understand.”

  She wanted to object, to argue until she convinced the aged temple keeper to see things from her perspective, but Ellie held her tongue. After all, Ag’iazza was correct. The longer she spent searching the archive, the more convinced she was that she didn’t understand what it was she was seeking. A few moments rest would hurt nothing.

  “Very well, keeper,” she said, eyes lowered in deference as she scooped up her supplies and stood, searching for a small nook in which she could comfortably settle and begin her work. A patch of velvety, moss-like ground cover in a rich shade of deep brown drew her attention. She collapsed onto an invitingly springy tuft, crossing her legs in front of her as she rested the sketchbook on her knee.

  Instead of looking for inspiration, Ellie held loose her charcoal and allowed her mind to wander. She paid no attention to the artistry, caring not where her strokes landed or with what intensity. She understood without being told that her goal was not to sharpen her illustration skills, but rather, this was closer to the emotional purging of art therapy. Her hands moved of their own accord as she focused on the wisp of cloud that drifted just below her line of sight.

  The sky garden, a peaceful area of contemplation, sat at the widest, topmost level of the inverse temple. The inverse temple balanced against all odds atop the T’al Kyri, which was built upon the plateau of the tallest mountain on the entire planet. This meant at that moment, Ellie quite literally sat at the top of the world. The nearest city sprawled out miles below.

  She looked out over the breathtaking vista, noting that none of the views from any of the towering monuments she’d climbed on Earth could ever compare. Daring herself to make the daunting and seemingly dangerous climb along the exterior of the translucent crystalline walls of the inverse temple had been well worth the reward. Granted, she never would have made the attempt had she not discovered, quite by accident, the physics defying phenomena that explained the Eidyssic disregard for safety measures.

  Falling was impossible on T’al Eidyn.

  The planet was small. Not quite as small as the moons of Sonna, but roughly half the size of the largest of the habitable planets, all of which were very similar to Earth in terms of mass. And yet, where the moons had a nominal gravity, Ellie felt no such lightness on T’al Eidyn until she took a misstep while ascending one of the temple’s many narrow and unenclosed stairways. Instead of falling to her death, she seemed to bob as if in water, slowly descending until her feet found solid ground. Aside from a sudden rush of adrenaline and the subsequent shaking that came with it, she was fine.

  Ag’iazza could not explain it other than to say that the ancients picked this planet because it shared more than ninety percent of its traits with Ia’na Eidyn, including mass, density, atmospheric gasses, and mineral compounds. The distance from Ghowrn Major also mimicked the white dwarf of the Eidyn star. She assumed the gravitational fluctuations, which she’d not been aware of until her own travel to Korghetia near the beginning of the war, were likely due to the molecular makeup of the planet.

  To Ellie, it was magic, but to the Eidyssic she met, it was status quo. She might have simply accepted that it was science she could not explain, except that it seemed to her there was an incongruity in what her people would and would not accept when it came to the unknown. Specifically, the collective refusal to believe phase pulse as anything more than theoretical and likely impossible. Even Ka’griannas, who had objectively listened to the explanations of both her and Julian, was hesitant to use the term that had origins in ancient mythology.

  It was frustrating, but in a way, Ellie was grateful for what she saw as a slightly irrational stance. In her mind, she’d put far too much faith in the infallibility of her father’s people without having any credible reason to do so. Certainly they had the wisdom of experience, but they had made their share of mistakes, including the unforgivable action of destroying most of the emerging civilizations in the galaxy before they had a chance to begin. That she thought coming to the temple would be a means to quickly and efficiently find a solution to all that threatened peace was a naïve view.

  And yet, as she tried and failed to focus her objectives, Ellie couldn’t help but feel disappointed that it wasn’t that easy. Her frustration mounted, causing her hand to slip, which served as a reminder that she had work to do. Sitting in the tranquil gardens, mindlessly indulging her artistic side had been a welcome reprieve, but the guilt that began seeping into her thoughts refused to be ignored.

  She glanced down at the drawing in her lap, not surprised to see Julian staring back at her. While her mind wandering hadn’t given her any additional insight as to what it was she was looking to discover, she’d at least managed a high quality likeness of her beloved. Her heart skipped a beat as she thought about him. Several days had passed since he’d left with her father, yet she’d heard nothing. She refused to worry. Julian had not told her how long it would take to shut down the Limitless Battalion and besides, there was her father’s abstraction to take into consideration. Perhaps Julian was simply waiting to ensure El’iadryov’s safe ascension.

  Thoughts of her father brought about yet another round of hurt and she pushed aside her emotions. There would be plenty of time to brood later. Now, she had an archive to visit.

  “Just hurry back to me,” she said to the drawing as she gathered her supplies. But as she made to slide the portrait into the sturdy sleeve of her pack, a small detail caught her eye. Something she’d drawn, but not consciously. Perhaps there was something to Ag’iazza’s instructions after all. In his hand, Julian held a disk. The same ancient storage device that Master Yellenoae had passed to his love and handed down to each successive Abi Merata.

  Ellie reached into the inner pocket of her vest and felt for the familiar shape, but had a small panic attack when her hand found emptiness. With some relief, she remembered taking it out and placing it in a safe space in her quarters earlier that morning, and relaxed. Standing, she swung her bag over her shoulder and all but ran the impossibly winding stairs that spiraled down to the temple proper. Perhaps it was not the archives she sought after all.

  Chapter 2

  Ellie stood in the doorway to her quarters. The small, windowless room was roughly the size of her closet back at the Korghetian capital. In fact, it was nearly as small as the bedroom in her tiny New York apartment. But it was not the size or austerity of the room that mattered at that moment.

  She moved to the single, unadorned table that served as her desk and picked up the only object it held. The disk nestled into the cradle of her palm and Ellie stared at its smooth surface for a moment, clearing her mind as if meditating would somehow reveal to her the secrets of the ancients. She sat on the edge of her bed and gave a small sigh, feeling slight embarrassment for having rushed to the conclusion that something she’d drawn would somehow lead her to a clue she’d missed.

  She’d been all through the physical archive. Master Yellenoae existed as nothing more than a footnote in her people’s history, much like nearly every other true master since the creation of the Kyroibi. Whatever he’d done to stop the battalion’s awakening had worked, and clearly, he felt an awakening would happen again, otherwise he wouldn’t have bothered leaving the message with the Merata.

  Ellie replayed the message, paying attention to every seemingly insignificant detail, but nothing popped out at her a
s being a previously missed clue. She’d now studied the message more than a dozen times. Whatever it was the master wanted her to find, clearly, it was not to be found by replaying the message.

  Feeling even more foolish for buying into the irrational mysticism that pervaded against all odds here at the temple, Ellie slipped the disk into her inner pocket and returned to the archive, determined to do something, anything that would not make her feel as if she’d wasted half the day.

  T’al Kyri was an exact replica of the Temple Kyri back on Ia’na Eidyn, with the archive residing in the topmost room of the physical temple, shuttered away behind a heavy, yet unassuming door. The windowless cavern required no lighting as the archive of information itself existed as infinite pinpricks of light.

  As with every time she’d entered, Ellie was immediately overwhelmed with the burden of infinite knowledge, but she was learning better control. After swaying for a moment, she was able to stand upright and make her way to the dais in the middle of the room.

  Here she sat, cross-legged, and did her best to clear her mind. She pulled the disk from her pocket, using the slight weight and pleasing oval shape as a tool with which to focus her own energies.

  “You are troubled, Eidyn Master.”

  Ellie’s heart tumbled erratically for a moment at the sound of the voice that was all too familiar. The ever so slight difference in pitch was what brought both her heart and mind back to the reality of the present. She opened her eyes to see the hard light manifestation of Rhymallian, the original custodian of the Kyroibi and Julian’s creator.

  That his appearance was also uncannily similar to Julian’s gave her another moment of pause. Perhaps the mysticism was getting to her after all. As creator, it made sense that Rhymallian would borrow from his own genetic template, creating Julian in his own image, so to speak. Of course, following her biblical allegory to completion left a sinking dread in the pit of her stomach.

  She pushed aside the thought, which was not only distracting from her original purpose for visiting the archives, but also served to reignite the near tangible feeling of emptiness that grew stronger and more painful with each passing hour of Julian’s absence. Instead she turned her focus on Rhymallian, who regarded her with curiosity and concern.