In the Dark

It was like turning into a million grains of sand and then every one of those particles being nestled gently in the arms of a mother.   Nothing like it really, almost intoxicating once you get used to the sensation of drowning in your own saliva.  Every time it's a pop.  A bursting feeling that spits you into another reality where you're both out of and also completely in control of everything.  Everything.  The connectedness, the oneness, the utter surrender of one's personality, existence, memories.  

In Eidos there is no form, no material, no anything.  But then apply the intention of a channeler, of a Taari, and then the nothing becomes a pliable sea of clay.   Your every wish, every desire is fulfilled in such a place.  There are no impossibilities here.  You can create and destroy all the worlds you want and it all just bounces back into nothingness.   It exists as long as one's able to hold their breath, but if you hold your breath too long well you become nothingness too.  It feels akin to having one's head held underwater.  It's torture and bliss all at the same time.  

To be Taari means a lot of things, but what it doesn't mean is feeling like  you belong.  It's been… I can hardly remember when I came to be.  I have no recollection of who I am or where I came from.  I just am.  Now.  Where am I?  What is this?  

"Focus on the path."  A voice came through like a scream underwater.  It was all he could hear amidst the rushing of blood in his ears.  Did he even have blood?  It felt like it.  What's blood? I can't seem to remember...

"Focus on the path."  The voice was there again, like it was monitoring his thoughts.  




GET OUT OF MY HEAD!  He roared and the cloud that was suspended in mid air as part of his essence froze, cracked and shattered to the floor into tiny particles of glass. He meandered about the small space he was in with no face, no hands and half a neck.  It was silent in the chamber for some time and even the voice had stopped.  It didn't take long but the particles began to hum and disintegrate into thin tendrils of smoke that whipped around the room and gathered in the place of his previously missing body parts.  When his mouth materialized he gasped for air as if he had been holding his lips closed, but then mid breath stopped and realized he had no need for air.  

This is Subject 480.

He would collapse sometimes and cry, no tears from his eyes of course.  More like his entire body turning into a thousand tears and melting away.  He would panic. No! NO! Not again, I hate this please stop. NO!  Keep it together, stay solid, please don't let me fade away I'll never come back.  I'll never smell flowers again or taste honey, please don't let it take me!

Taari were paranoid.  Eidos was where they felt most themselves, most secure when dissolving.  They could do anything there, be anybody, escape it all.  Some lived semi-permanently in Eidos, others completely resisted it.  

"Focus on the path."

"There is no Fucking path you morons, I am the path!  I am the fucking path!  Do you even know how powerful I am?? I could blow up this entire station, I could make a node so large it would suck us all into the void and then where would you be without your machines?"  He laughed hysterically and bounced around the room materializing and dissolving like a puff of smoke.

It was normal to get this angry, this insane.  It was normal to fall apart like this, in fact the more emotional a Taari got the more open and connected they were to Eidos.  The research thrived on driving them insane.  The more fluid they became, more easy for the researchers to track the electromagnetic signatures of a Taari leaving their physical form to join the Mother.  It didn't matter what emotion either, joy, fear, anger, depression.   Just so long as they felt it thoroughly and completely.  It must be an all encompassing feeling to really open them up.  It was when Taari became closed up and cold that they were more volatile.  Research showed that if emotions were free flowing the gateway that is a Taari would remain flexible, it could stretch without breaking like a well trained muscle.  If the emotions were constricted and repressed, they would tear at the seams of a Taari.  With enough concentrated pressure they could burst and rip a hole in the fabric of reality.  The entire Epitus could implode in on them all.  With enough pressure, a Taari could annihilate their entire system, perhaps the universe.

He was one of thousands, hundreds of thousands of Taari being tested on.  Beyond the sound proof walls of his cell, there were others wallowing in their fantasies, their prisons of the psyche.   Some lived happily in their desires, conjuring up a virtual reality of what they would rather be living than the truth of their imprisonment.  The only way out was a permanent dissolve into Eidos.  But this wasn't escape, it was a soul death.  It is what every Taari gets a glimpse of when they stay too long or step too far into Eidos.  Like a haunting white light at the end of the tunnel, it both beckons them and terrifies them.  They all know intuitively what that place is, and that it isn't even a place but a maddening loop of life and death and no stability to anchor and know thyself.  

Some were happy, some were sad.  It didn't even matter.  They weren't going anywhere.

"Subject 647's vitals are stable, he's ready for submersion."

"Engage the sheilds, commence the lockdown sequence."

"Sir, nodal conditions are still unaligned.  I highly recommend doubling the time on initiation before submersion."

"Fine, do it."

Mechanical sounds like creaky elbows thundered in the large metal rib cage.  A haunting stillness surrounded Subject 647 as he stood on a precipice in the center of the chamber, cold and numbed by the drugs. A distant hum pulled him in and out of his own thoughts, constantly nagging him in the moment.  Tubes like so many hairs dotted the surface of his wrists and extended into the bubble wall that caged him on top of the platform.  He could see the observation wall, and the researchers inside - not because there was a window, but because he was particularly good at reading the temperature changes around him.  Even through the heavily armoured prison he could feel the pulsing heat of their blood running through their veins.  

How much of him was still human was difficult to recognize.  Most days Subject 647 said nothing.  He had started the experiments rather feisty but appeared to have lost his lust to live as they continued.  Physical torture and pain could be controlled, humans were masters at hiding the pain.  But that pain paled in comparison to experiencing the sensation of every one of your molecules being spread very thin.   Yes, he stopped screaming, stopped protesting because when you are pushed to the edge of true unravelling, there really is nothing left to say.

"Oh look at how obedient he is!  And focused!  Bring in our guests, this is a perfect opportunity to test him out."

The door slid open and invited in a group of three Cerunians, distinctive in their harsh cybernetic appearance.  One of them had no eyes, but could still clearly sense his surroundings.  The other two were an equal mess of replaced body parts with no effort to apply an artificial epidermis.   The Roshoqan researchers cringed visibly, they made no attempt to hide their disdain but eased up as introductions flowed.   They were a private augments manufacturer with a fancy for all things Tevaret - they believed the mineral could evolve their people's technology.   The Roshoqans believed the same of themselves - but thought this goal could be achieved without invasive implants.  Roshoqans felt their human forms were perfection in their organic state, while Cerunians saw an 'inevitable union' between man and machine.

"Here we have Subject 647, a new prototype in our Tevaret laboratory.  We've concluded through the thousands of trials that while most Taari subjects cannot handle over exposure to Tevaret radiation, a small handful of them can.  Our results were a dramatic increase in conduit activity as well as increased levels of channeling focus.  We noticed even as we increased the radiation intensity, any excess that might harm the subject was instead offloaded into the atmosphere."  The researcher pressed a sequence of buttons and then fingered a dial slowly until the hum cried out louder.   Just as he said, soft orange light began to snake out of the receptors that held his wrists out to the sides.  As the radiation intensified however, the light arched and cracked around the man in bolts.  


"As you can see, we're still working on concentrating the overflow.  Right now it is too unsafe to activate  this conduit outside of the chamber, the effects would be devastating around any life forms.  This will melt the skin off of your face and then the bones beneath."  The researcher grinned, his voice quivering with contained excitement as he breathed the last comment.  

One of the Cerunians narrowed his eyes at the researcher, Roshoqans are truly sick he thought.  But they were damn good at defying the laws of physics and reality.  Roshoqans were fearless, they made things happen that others would call impossible.  For that he even admired the fervor with which they conducted their experiments.  They were perfectly detached, their subjects really were just that.  It occurred to him that these researchers really did not recognize their subjects as humans, and maybe it made sense not to since majority of what made Taari human was blown away.  But there was still the strong essence of humanity in Taari.  They were still people, they just had a different purpose now.

"Taari like this are rare.. and expensive.  But I assure you once we have this process developed fully this one Taari will be powerful and stable enough to power the most fearsome and cutting edge weaponry in this galaxy."  Roshoqans were horrendous exaggerators, however something told the Cerunian that this was no empty promise.

"We're eager to see more.  Keep our representatives updated." The Cerunian trio stepped out of the small observation room and made their way back to their ships.  The visit was short but the evidence was clear.  So much had improved since the last performance, the research was progressing rapidly.  

Back in the room, the controls were powered down and the subject was left to dangle in the dark.  With no need to eat or sleep there was no meal for him at the end of the work day, or a comfy bed to sleep in, or even a pat on the back to express gratitude for his cooperation.  He didn’t even know he was  a Taari, he didn't even know that his kind had a name.

The lab was being put to rest and one of the researchers clothed herself in a protective suit, carrying out a small box filled with five small metallic looking spheres.  Her socked footsteps were silent against the walkway as she padded gently towards him.  The bubble was down and up close he looked as human as she did.  His flesh was so convincing, so intact.   But she knew it was all just part of the experiment - to see if he could hold a physical body while at the same time staying open as a conduit of Eidos energy.  If he could be both in the physical and non physical realm and hold himself in a conduit state, it was very good news for the research.

As she approached his eyes lolled slowly towards her and met her gaze.  Don't leave me here Alice..  came a voice in her head and she paused in front of him.  Tears stung her cheeks as she reached into the box and pulled out one of the spheres, raising it to one of his shoulders.  The sphere began to vibrate and as she pressed it against his skin it receded into his flesh.  He didn't flinch or make a sound but she felt his agony emotionally.  The spheres anchored him to the physical world and as she proceeded to chain him down at the hips, she felt every cry of help project from him to her.


"Your mind tricks don't work on me" she said out loud, her hands shaking violently in the suit as she fought his control over her emotions.  

Voices screamed within her. Let me OUT!  Faces with sharp teeth and beady eyes shot out at her from the dark and she felt a fear rise in her belly so swiftly that it made her want to vomit.   Don't spend too much time in the chamber with them they said, they'll suck your soul right out of your body if you stay long enough.  Whatever you do don't talk to them, don't give them even a single chance to get inside your head.  Alice stumbled on the walkway and then flung herself through the chamber door, slamming it behind her.  She sunk to the floor and removed her helmet and then curled into a fetal position as she tried to slow her breathing.

A fellow researcher casually glanced at her as she writhed on the floor, "Told you not to talk to them."

"It's a very dangerous procedure , we haven't done enough testing with genesis and terraforming to see how the human body will withstand this kind of rapid transformation.  It will kill him just like the others."

"This is no time for cowardice, Batika out there have built an entire city structure with this technology.  Think of all the experiments you could do on them after capture, all the things you could learn about them."  

The researcher's eyes went wide and his jaw relaxed just enough to let the moisture in his mouth begin to drip.  The promises of riches and fame for such leading edge discovery was tempting beyond measure.  Every Roshoqan no matter how simple minded and impoverished felt the instinctual pull of the need to be and do and know and have more.  MORE.  It was a form of both pride and shame in Roshoqan culture.  To be disciplined in one's urges was a mark of strength, but to live in the moment of one's desire and always be searching for improvement was also a mark of vigilance.  

"Prepare the growth sequence."

He looked at her, dedicated in his actions but still with the face of a doomed rodent.  He knew how pushing the subjects past their limits ended.  Then he shut himself down, it was like a greying of his personality as the compassion he felt for Subject 201 dropped from the air.  


Inside the containment chamber was an artificial jungle to match the atmospheric conditions on Endrata.  Wild growth in all directions threatened the walls of the prison even to the point of eroding away panels and displacing circuitry - forcing the team to enlarge and reinforce the chamber.  The plants even seemed to respond intelligently to the chamber, locating the wires and pipes designed to keep the chamber functional, trying to rip them clean from the walls.  

Jungles weren't meant to be contained, but then again Roshoqans liked to defy the odds.  Mistakes were important in Roshoqan culture, they were a indication that one attempted the action no matter the risks, with all appropriate caution of course.  Roshoqans didn't enjoy being too wounded to perform, they were hypocritical that way.

Subject 201 sat in a small steam room located next to the chamber.  With the push of a button the room gaped open into a hallway that at the end led into the jungle area.  

He had been in it many times before,  they fed him several different concoctions that made his head spin and his bones ache.  Sometimes he grew strange lumps or skin discolourations.  There was almost no explanation of what he was taking or what the experiments were for.  But they had been nice about it mostly he supposed.  They fed him, clothed him, even allowed him to interact with other Batika on the station.  He was fortunate in some ways - at least compared to what other subjects had to endure.  Sometimes they shared stories.

Now, as he stepped into the thicket of foliage, he was puzzled as to why there was no injection prior.  Maybe this was even his lucky day.

There was always an orchestra of sound when he entered the chamber.  Almost as if there were animals in there as well, but if there were he had never seen one.  He only heard the movement of leaves and felt the cloying of the air that was heavy with moisture.  As he walked the small scale forest he admired the large trees, the creeping vine, the waxy texture of the leaves and how they formed strange shapes that changed over time.

Batika were new to the world in so many ways, yet they always felt calmed by the instinct and knowledge that they are part of Eidos.  They even feel that they are children of Eidos, even though the truth is they are children of the Taari.  

After the destruction of their bodies and lingering of their consciousness, the Taari needed a way to cling to the physical world.  Taari began breaking down simple minerals and restructuring it into the shape of a body that their essence can inhabit.  Without this physical anchor, Taari become nebulous in nature and eventually are swept into the nothingness of Eidos.  There they simply cannot exist without merging with the greater whole of the universe.  There is no identity there in the way humans understand and need it.  Humans might even be a direct manifestation of individuality as a concept created in the cosmos.  It is what makes them unique from other biological systems.  

But anything other than biological material results in a degradation of the Taari's 'humanity' long term.  Without feeling blood pumping through their veins, Taari began to grow cold and emotionless.  They were more amnesic and forgetful, locking themselves into loops of action.  The Primus saw these changes and took the opportunity to build facilities for the further research of genesis.  They loved dipping their fingers in their own genetic makeup.  Sometimes not even to alter it but to gaze in amazement of their own perfection as beings.  Roshoqans love their human experience, they 'know' they are the most powerful force in the universe, next to Eidos itself of course.  

As channeling became more attractive to Roshoqans,  they used their new found ability to channel eidos and craft genetic templates from Roshoqan DNA.  From there Batika were born as the solution to the Taari Conflict.  As green suits for the Taari to step into and live out the rest of their days.   The cultural memories, the neural bloodlines, physical attributes, it all lay dormant in a Batika's chromosomal scroll as information about the innate nature of a Roshoqan.  Their strengths, their weaknesses, everything that makes them tick internally can be found in their DNA.  But before a Batika bloodline can be ready for a Taari, it has to be groomed for performance.  Generations upon generations of Batika are born and bred in specific patterns, to suit the demands of Taari.

Subject 201 stood near to the chamber center, surrounding himself completely with the forest.  Then his eye caught a yellow glow coming slowly through the tree canopy.  It hovered on its way down and settled momentarily in air in front of him.

Back in the control room the researcher's hand shook and a deep sweat soaked the inside of his shirt. This was wrong, the man will surely die.  All in the name of science.

"Activate growth sequence." He sunk his finger into the button and a click sealed Subject 201's fate.


The glowing ball hummed and then shrieked, making Subject 201 cup his hands over his ears and curl up.  The glowing intensified and the scarab shaped object flew through the air and lodged itself against the forehead of Subject 201.  With skin crawling speed, tendrils of light breached the scarab's form and flung themselves over the Batika's face.  The glowing faded with time but the growth didn't stop.   Tendril after tendril spun out with an explosive quality and wrenched it self deep into his skin.   Places where tendons and veins lived were displaced and shredded, and he screamed in response, his body agitating and shaking in shock.  Tendrils pushed through every artery and invaded his heart, overcoming it and using it to pump materials to the rest of his body.  Plant like branches sprouted out of his fingers and toes, shooting roots into the ground and anchoring him in place.  He quickly died as the massive growth overtook his body, his spine snapping and transforming into a reinforced column that supported the rapid growth.  The water content of his body spread over a greater distance and his organs shriveled and were broken down almost immediately.   Nothing that made him Batika or Roshoqan was left, but his face remained etched in the bark to show the haunting memory to any viewer that where there is now a tree there once was a human.

"You see? The material chains are not at a stable state yet where they can multiply and meet the growth rate.  After we stretch him this far growth drops off and then slows right to a crawl.  The calibrations aren't complete yet, we need more time.."

"Use another subject, continue the experiments."

"But these Batika are precious, their mutation rate is too high right now and only a few of them are up to your people's standa-"

She cut him off abruptly, "continue the experiments."

"I want to see him."

Tundris rose from her seat in the observation deck that lay adjacent to the jungle chamber.  She tore through the doors and then stopped dead as the heat of the chamber bit her skin.  The sounds, the smells, she knew they were there - she could feel them.  But somehow everything had a grey tint to it, like a thin blanket of ash.  She had this distinct memory that she should be able to smell and even had the expectation TO smell.  Yet could not distinguish between them through differences.  They were all just the same.  How incredibly boring.

The trees welcomed her in and she went willingly, climbing through the bush in search of the Tree Man. And there he was, peacefully still in the clearing in which he was erected.  His hands were stretched in every which way, curling for the light.  His legs stood anchored in the ground with upturned earth scattered about, a result of the violent movements of his legs becoming roots.  

Tundris made a move to gasp in awe, though no air was inhaled.  She ran right up to the Tree Man and flowed her hands over the remains of his body, inspecting how his skin had become rough and thick like bark.  She immediately wanted to stick her knife in his side and discover how deep that tough layer went.  Was he still batika? - human even?  By the time the transformation had slowed,  his face would only be recognized by someone who loved him.    

"How peculiar" she murmured as her ear pressed against the center of his chest, "there is still a beating heart in there."

"That's impossible he was ripped to shreds.  He flat lined immediately, the growth crushed his heart."

She ignored the researcher as he arrived behind her with the rest of his lab goons.  Instead she stayed perfectly still with her head against his chest and started vibrating as she began to slip from her body just enough to see the activity inside him.  What she saw was extraordinary.  The roots had grown upwards into the tree trunk and were actually operating his body through his main arteries and veins.  

The tree had merged with him in a way none of them expected.  All with the help of Tevaret, or so the studies showed.

"I wonder if he can talk… or think!"  Her eyes glowed with delight as she gently passed her finger tips down both sides of his torso.  She seemed mesmerized by the Batika, obsessed even.  But she looked at him more with the look of a starved dog than anything else.  They certainly knew how to follow their hedonistic desires..

"Gentlemen, we've cracked the code."  Tundris let a smirk shift the material of her face, it was an awkward attempt at a smile.

The Roshoqan researchers looked at her as if she were an A.I., though they knew she was a human consciousness.  It was just her appearance, the rough edges of her body, crafted with what could best be described as a sand stone material.  She was no expert at bodycraft, and psychological stress made it more difficult to hold one's body solid in the physical realm.  The more emotionally stable a Taari, the greater stability of their bodies they could muster.  True Fact.

"Leave me with him, I have work to do."  Her voice lowered nearly an octave, sending chills down the researcher's spines.  Taari were just plain creepy.  In the way they obsessed and were highly emotional, in the mysterious way they could become nebulus and could access Eidos. Taari didn't know how creepy they were, it just came so naturally.

The researchers were glad to leave.  They had only met Tundris a handful of times before, she was one of the Taari in line for a grand spankin' new Batika Body.  Each was fitted perfectly to the Taari, and only the most connected of individuals were currently able to take on bodies.  They were also highly risky, a Taari could become trapped in a Batika - especially if they happened to turn into a mindless tree…

Darkness as thick as tar clung to the walls of the chamber.   A tiny red light like a demon's eye pierced through the hollow void, staring down into Subject 647 's empty face.  His mouth was dry, but not because he was physically thirsty.  He required no water, his entire body did not even have one single drop of it.  And yet he craved it.  Like the summer craves the rain.  Sleep was pointless, and yet he found both peace and horror in the creeping silence.

What was that?

The sound of a steady drip - but there was no telling where it came from, or if it was real. Hallucinations faded in and out, in tandem with the cravings.  Memories of a human body were painful, but how a Taari could even 'feel' was a complete mystery to them all.  Sometimes Subject 647 would scream and howl into the artificial night and it would haunt the researchers, if there wasn't a sound proof barrier.  Some even carried him into their dreams when they retired to their sleeping quarters.  Five researchers had already ended their lives over this. Living on the Epitus was not for the faint of heart.

Alice suffered from insomnia.

When she wasn't twisting bed sheets between her fingers, subject 647 was there in her mind.   Sometimes in her dreams she was the subject, her limbs suspended in mid air like they had done to him. The loneliness was heart wrenching, the experiments were taking their toll on her.  She could hardly imagine how he felt.  And then she remembered what had been drilled into her over the years - that Taari didn't really feel, that it was all just an illusion.  It made her wonder sometimes whether human emotions were an illusion too.

A growing white light ascended from the black box on Alice's night stand. To mimic the sun, her alarm clock rose her out of bed, but not like she slept anyways.  A clean lab coat waited for her, hanging from the wall like a corpse.  She let it fall over her shoulders and shivered as if she were slipping into a pool of ice cold water.  Alice mused over how she had came to work on the Epitus. How had she gone from being a top student in quantum physics in the most prestigious university on Roshoq to living as a sleep deprived slave on this station far from everything she knew and held dear.

Oh, right..

Her innate obsession with knowledge led her there.  That and the sugar coated propaganda.  There was great honour in working as a physicist, or in any science related field.  Her hunger had driven her from the safe confines of her home world and now she was stuck on this slave collar of a space station.  They weren't allowed to contact home, and the position was almost always a lifetime commitment.  Even though they downplayed that little fact when she was offered the opportunity to be part of Roshoq's leading edge research.  But now that she was in her third term, there was no backing out.  It made paranoia grow in her heart like a tumour.   They could kill her for trying to leave and no one back home would ever knew.  They could fabricate all sorts of lies.  Tell her family that she had dedicated her life to research.  They could even honour her publicly to keep those lies alive.

Oh Alice, you gullible fool.

With tablet in hand Alice entered the control room and peered through the dark at Subject 647. His head hung to the side and his hands appeared limp.  The spheres had integrated with his body during the night, feeding him more material to stay solid because over time, particles of his body flaked from him like shedding skin.  Holding a body was exhausting.  

Lights hummed to life in the chamber as the equipment was powered up. Everyone could hear the audible moan that spilled from Subject 647 and it shot goosebumps up Alice's spine. if her colleagues were affected similarly, they didn't show it.  Maybe they had been there so long that they were used to it.

A rumble shook the chamber as he moaned. "He's getting restless, turn on the oscillator".  Another humming device screeched as it began churning until it was refined into an inaudible sound wave.  It encased Subject 647 like a protective egg until he stopped fidgeting and slipped into a trance.  From there he was rendered silent.

Alice watched his face as he calmed, stuck in a loop of vibrating sound and thus suspended between Eidos and the physical.  She rose a trembling hand up to the glass, leaving the mark of a sweaty palm on its surface.  Her skin feIt clammy and cold, and one of her colleagues eyed her with suspicion as she lowered herself into the chair in front of the controls.  He narrowed his eyes at her, but his attention was pulled away by another researcher who presented a series of charts.

In her chair, Alice felt sick and dizzy but the more she focused on the screen in front of her, the less her head spun until it ceased all together.  She should have reported her symptoms, but felt compelled to stay quiet.  And it was him who urged her not to.  The Taari's voice rang through her skull and even when suppressing it, it never completed faded.

"Subject 647 is stabilized, engage the generator and let's increase the input value to what we reviewed.".  They had tried to match frequencies between the subject and the generator before, but were forced to replace equipment repeatedly due to damage.  Such is the case when introducing increasingly powerful generators to a system that holds technology inferior to that of the connection Taari have with Eidos.  Trying to create a frequency loop was especially challenging and flat out impossible until they could match it.

In earlier experimentation, Subject 647 even melted the weaker generators.  What a shit show, and an expensive one at that.  But money was no issue because the pursuit of power trumped everything else, even life itself - which they believe Taari lack.  Though as Alice was slowly learning, this couldn't be further from the truth.

"How has he been performing?"

Tundris looked into the chamber of Subject 480, he was standing against the wall rolling his whole body from side to side.  The researcher next to her opened a digital chart and showed it to Tundris, who was too busy looking at the subject to notice it waving under her nose.  After realizing this he cleared his throat and spoke.

"Subject 480 has been difficult to control.  He resists most of our attempts to occupy his mind and restraining him physically is near impossible.  We're concerned that the chamber won't hold him if he learns how to dissolve through these walls.  He's received sonic treatment and it seems to be the only thing he's responsive to.  Sound is the key, but we have yet to know how we can use it to clamp onto his mind.  Taari are.. complicated creatures."

Tundris had been listening passively but turned around when she felt the disdain in his voice.  Her eyes were large overbearing spheres that bore into him, not with anger but with a look that suggested she might want to use him next for experimentation.  He swallowed a dry spot in his throat and shook slightly, regretting his words.

"When will he be ready for integration with Subject 201?"

"Well technically now, but there are still some levels that need correcting before we can get an accurate reading."

Tundris shifted her eyes towards the subject inside his cage.  She was eager to begin, but wanted it to be done right.  "Very well, alert me as soon as both subjects are ready."

"Yes ma'am."


Tundris returned to her quarters that evening with a melancholy she was all too familiar with.  She approached a part of the room and stared down at the fading indentations where a bed frame had been before.  It was a painful reminder of how unhuman she was.  Fingers touched the fabric on the couch nearby and she sank into it with an awkward movement of her body.  She missed being human, like lovers miss each other when separated, stained with the ghost of the other person.

She thought of Subject 201, envying the feel of his organic body as she touched his skin.  She may not have been tired, but she was terribly bored.   Her focus slipped from the room and settled on the Tree man- as she liked to call him.   All rational thought told the researchers that his body was dead because his organs no longer worked the same as before.  But his essence was still there in a most interesting way that they had yet to discover.  Tundris had kept quiet because she ultimately didn't trust Roshoqans, but she knew how he had managed to stay present After his body had been destroyed.  

Eidos.

The more she focused on him, the quieter her mind became and the deeper she sunk into her psyche.  It was difficult to hold a body under such conditions so the smooth stone material that made up her physical form began to crumble and fall over the floor.  Inside though, the opposite occured.  As she let herself float into Eidos she felt the security and oneness of joining with source.  Like she was being welcomed back home after a long time away.   And at this junction of life, death, and eternity she reached out far into the unknown for Tree Man, sending her tendrils in all directions like so many arms searching in the dark.  


And then there in the distance came a vibration that she knew was Tree Man's lifeforce.  It had the pulse of a beating heart and called to her like a crying child.  She tried to focus on just him but then other beings came into focus as well.  Like bouys bobbing up to the ocean surface they popped up one at a time, and then lit up like city lights across the horizon.  All their voices resounded at once, different words being spoken at the same time.  The noise was deafening as it grew and Tundris struggled to keep her connection with Tree Man.  His sound was swallowed up by the others and disappeared into the void.  The other voices climaxed and she could hear everything they were saying.  What shook her the most was the agony in their voices, the torture, the pain.  They were the subjects on the Epitus, thousands of them.  They clawed through the void at her, twisting in tone and rising in pitch.  Tundris pushed back against them, trying to pull herself out from under the tidal wave that threatened to dissolve her into the cosmos.


She awoke then from her living nightmare, wondering how long she had been in that state.  Her body had mostly fallen apart, leaving scattered particles and piles of sandy like stone on her room floor.  Tundris shivered and pieced herself back together, trying to ignore the screaming voices in her mind.