Metamorphosis

  1

  April 19, 154930

  Poolion System (Home Two Kingdom)

  Turron

  “How long this time?” Paul asked as Cal-com helped him sit up as his entire body was even more sore this time after waking up.

  “6 hours. Your lapses are getting shorter. Whatever is happening, you might be adapting to it. Can you walk?”

  “I can try, but I don’t think I’ll get very far.”

  “Then I must leave you to get supplies,” Cal-com said gravely.

  Paul nodded, then worked his jaw around as it objected to the movement.

  “What do you feel like this time?” the Voku asked his smaller friend as he sat on the floor of their partially sand-covered tent as the wind whipped at the flexible material protecting them from the outside environment.

  “Painful, as if I’ve been in combat and getting my ass kicked. My body is getting worse, not better.”

  “Something is happening to you. Your genetic code is altering with each blackout. Do you have any new insights…or dreams?”

  “Not that I can remember. I’m sleeping deeper than I have since I was very young. My body shouldn’t require this much, even before my Saiyan upgrade.”

  “And somehow you are falling further behind?”

  “Funny, isn’t it?”

  “At least your mood is improving.”

  Paul looked down at his arms, which had gotten noticeably smaller with the muscle atrophy…and something else. “I should be freaking out about this, but it feels…necessary. I don’t know why, but I need to see it through and I don’t think it’s going to end soon. I need supplies, and I don’t want moved. Anyone near me right now is a threat, no matter how puny,” he said, looking up into his friend’s blue visor that protected his three tiny eyes.

  “I understand. Do you wish me to return by vehicle for increased speed?”

  “Not if it means letting someone know where I am. I know we’re not hiding from sensors, but nobody around here has really good ones and…”

  “You need as few variables as possible,” Cal-com said, cutting him off. “Eat now, then I will leave.”

  Paul picked up a couple of food cubes with his fingers, knowing somehow not to use his telekinesis or any of his other psionics. His jaw objected mightily the first few bites, then began to loosen up as he downed a few gulps of water out of one of their few remaining full bottles as he found he had little saliva to work with.

  “I don’t want to go back,” he said abruptly after downing his 14th food cube enroute to the 15th.

  “You don’t have to. I am going to get enough to last us a few weeks out here.”

  “I don’t mean the settlement. I mean back to the way I was. Something in my head has cleared up, and I’m scared to look backwards. It’s like I was suppressed before and didn’t even know it. I can’t go back. I know that now. I won’t have any defense against it.”

  “You operated quite well before. What scares you about it?”

  Paul shook his head, despite the soreness in his neck that it elicited. “I don’t know. I’m totally in the dark here, Cal-com. But I’m open. I think I was blind before, with the illusion that I knew what was going on. I feel like a total newb now, and my body is agreeing with that sentiment. I have no control, but I can’t go back. I have to go forward and I don’t know how. I’m fumbling around, but as long as I can hang onto this clearness of mind, I’ll work it out. But I can’t go back. I can’t…”

  Cal-com could sense his fear even without having to use his telepathy. His body language was screaming it.

  The Voku put a hand on his small shoulder and steadied it, not wanting to use any telepathy that might disrupt whatever was happening to him. “If this is a natural upgrade and not destruction, I am confident you will find your way through it. My job is to keep exterior threats from taking advantage of your momentary weakness. I will be quick, but there will be a period of vulnerability. You need to wear your armor until then.”

  Paul jerked, and Cal-com could tell he was emotionally raw beyond measure right now.

  “That makes logical sense, but my gut is saying no way in hell.”

  “Claustrophobia?”

  “Yes.”

  “Use the shields then.”

  “No…I need the air. I know that makes no sense, but I need to be free and exposed. I feel like I’ll suffocate inside armor or shields.”

  “Then relieve yourself now so you do not have to leave the tent later, unless you wish to use your gauntlets to draw the waste material out of you directly?”

  “Can you give me a wind block?”

  “Done,” Cal-com said, standing up and opening the door as the blowing sand tried to get in, but the Voku’s mass blocked most of it as he went outside…then the turbulent air disappeared over the entrance, but was still hammering the rest of the tent.

  Paul crawled painfully to his feet, but found his footing to be more reliable than he expected as he stepped outside amidst a daytime storm that Cal-com was acting as a barrier against, using his own armor to produce a shield wall upwind of the entrance so it wouldn’t knock Paul over as he slowly walked out with tiny, unsure steps to a few meters away where he undid his pants and began to pee into the sand, with the dryness eating up the moisture as soon as it landed.

  His bladder was full again, and just releasing it felt beyond good, almost as if it was the first time he’d ever done it…which was ridiculous…but everything seemed new now that his head was ‘unstuck,’ and he didn’t want to lose a moment of his newfound freedom, for his past was lurking like a giant monster about to strike and he was desperately clinging to a sanctuary that might evaporate at any moment.

  Paul finished and walked back inside, with Cal-com sealing up the tent but not going in. Instead he fully activated his armor and took off running into the blowing sand, disappearing from view within seconds as Paul sat back down inside and tried to hang onto consciousness as long as he could, though he was already sensing the next blackout coming…

  Cal-com ran through the storm at the best speed he could manage, knowing time was not his ally. Paul was vulnerable when blacked out, and it was questionable whether or not he could fight if need be when he wasn’t. He did a perimeter check telepathically and with sensors as he left, finding nothing but sand, sand, and more sand, but the universe was not predictable and every second he was away from his friend he was in danger…but starvation would kill him for sure, and carrying Paul on his back or telekinetically right now was not advisable, though doable.

  Yet whatever it was they’d come out here to chase inside Paul had been found, and jeopardizing it could be just as deadly. Cal-com didn’t know what moving him would do or not do, for the better or worse, but if Paul felt he needed to face this out here away from everyone else, then that’s how they’d play it…yet they were going to need a lot more supplies. Fortunately Cal-com was far larger than Paul, so he could carry more, and after all the mundane walking his body was itching for a challenge anyway, so he made a point to fight the wind and sand as if it was a workout, gaining as many seconds as he could all the way back to the cliff wall that separated the Sand Sea from the less dry desert beyond.

  Cal-com kicked in his anti-grav when he got near the base and flew up to the summit, dropping back down on the firmer sand and continuing to run, saving his power for when he needed to jump over dunes rather than trying to fly straight to his destination. Both his and Paul’s armor had ample power cells, but they weren’t unlimited. Low level activity would recharge them in a trickle fashion, and Cal-com didn’t want to risk his dropping so low that he’d have trouble later.

  Paul could just fly on his own biological energy, which was far more efficient than the tiny anti-grav units woven into the
already densely packed armor, but Cal-com could fly if needed. Right now he had no pack to carry, so it was best to run and save the flight energy for the trip back, though it wouldn’t last the whole way.

  Cal-com ran for hours, using his own muscle and not using the armor enhancement to save power, eventually coming back to the New Luminance outpost that was sunken into the desert. He forced himself to become a pedestrian again when he arrived, because creating a commotion might delay his return more than walking would, so he made himself be patient and shopped in the most efficient manner possible, ending up with 18 smaller packs full of supplies roped together into a massive bundle so large that when he strapped it on his back bystanders had to move aside or get knocked down given how wide it was.

  He ignored the questions and complaints, heading across the chasm and up to the city rim on foot, then he immediately started running, finding the movement very difficult given the weight, awkward shape, and the sinking sand under his feet. Cal-com kicked in his anti-grav and began to fly low to the ground, monitoring the onlookers and watching for pursuit, but he didn’t take an evasive route to hide his destination. A straight line was the quickest way back to Paul, and he didn’t want to waste more time away from the vulnerable Human.

  So he flew…and flew…until his power cell was getting dangerously low, then he reluctantly dropped down into the very slick sands and began walking through it. He found he couldn’t run given the weight and conditions, but he was only a few kilometers away from the tent location and already well out into the Sand Sea. Fortunately the storm was now gone and the sky clear…which made it even hotter with the direct sunlight beating down on his armor, but that absorbed into it and gave it a little bit of an extra recharge trickle as he remained cool inside the skintight protection.

  Cal-com used a few bursts to get over tricky dunes, but otherwise muscled his way back to the tent, finding it intact as he dumped the bundle of packs down, feeling his back thank him for the relief as he looked through the walls of the tent with his Pefbar and confirmed Paul was still inside…except he was sitting up in a cross-legged position, meaning he wasn’t blacked out at the moment.

  Cal-com pried off one of the packs from the bundle and brought it inside, seeing his friend oddly sitting with his eyes closed in a meditative pose.

  “Paul?” he asked after a moment of no response.

  The Human blinked, apparently unaware of his arrival, then he fully opened his eyes…which did not look right, but apparently Paul wasn’t aware of the change.

  “Back already? I thought you left a few minutes ago?”

  “More like hours. How many times did you black out?”

  “Three, but they felt brief. No more than seconds, though now it seems that was an illusion. What’s wrong?”

  “Your eyes have changed.”

  Paul frowned. “How?”

  “They’re green now, but they also have an extra ring visible,” Cal-com said, producing a clear shield square in front of him coming from his armor, then he made the shield reflective to create a mirror for Paul to look into.

  “They’ve never been green before,” Paul noted, inclining his head back and forth as he looked at his reflection. “That ring looks like an ocular enhancement,” he said, glancing to the side and staring at his pack on the floor next to the wall. He squinted, not seeing any difference, then he played around a bit randomly, trying to get something to happen in response to him adjusting his focus in and out…then all of a sudden everything zoomed in on a piece of his pack and occupied his entire vision.

  “What the fuck…” he said, still staring at his pack.

  “What is it?” Cal-com asked as Paul remained distracted.

  “Somehow I can now zoom my vision.”

  “Second lens?” Cal-com guessed, kneeling down next to him and using a bit of his remaining armor power to activate his Regenerator and scan Paul’s new eyes…as well as the rest of him.

  “Whatever it is, it’s creeping me out. My situational awareness is horrible like this,” he said, bringing his vision back to normal, then zooming in again.

  “These are not Human eyes. They’re…for lack of a better term…super human.”

  “I like the sound of that…”

  “But the source of the change is still unidentified,” the Voku said.

  “I think I have a partial answer on that.”

  “Another vision?”

  “No. Not that I can remember anyway. Whatever’s going on in my head when I’m blacked out I can’t recall. But I think I know why my body is so sore. It’s not from damage inflicted, but from updates processing. Some of it, at least, I think is from Delayed Training Effect.”

  Cal-com knew what that was, though it rarely happened. When the body went through really hard and long workouts, a significant adjustment was made afterwards, usually while sleeping. If there was a delay in the downtime, the body would try and make some adjustments on the fly, but it couldn’t make all of them. If one had a multi-week excursion that was intense throughout, such as in combat, and it produced a significant training effect rather than just damage, the adaptation to it would occur in bits throughout as needed to keep moving, but the rest would essentially be stuck in queue until the body could get into a rest state.

  When it finally did, it would often update in stages rather than one long rest if the accumulation was great enough. The process was not usually peaceful, with the adjustments coming in chunks that produced instability, and sometimes pain, in the transition. Whereas normal adaptation…where you had rest breaks often…occurred in smaller ‘jumps’ that were less traumatic. In either case, the body’s genetic code rewrote itself in tiny ways, and some of those ways…if significant enough over time…would be passed onto the offspring in the genetic code merger of conception, mitosis, or whatever other method was used.

  “I can’t confirm that, but you’re still changing in waves. Cellular structure is getting tighter again. I think with more food in you you might put on more mass for the same volume.”

  “I feel too light.”

  “Your weight hasn’t dropped much. I think your body is reorganizing and scavenging from where it can. Do you feel up to binge eating?”

  “No,” Paul admitted. “If I eat too fast I start to get queasy, but if I stay awake long enough I think I can slow charge. What do my levels look like?”

  “Fat is almost nonexistent, and blood sugar is low. Everything in your stomach is…”

  “Is what?”

  “How long ago did you eat?”

  “As soon as I woke this cycle. My sense of time is obviously off, so I can’t say for sure how long it’s been.”

  “Your digestion rate is very high. I’d guess you’d eaten 10 cubes a few minutes ago?”

  “I got down 18, but not the big ones. Their taste is too tart, and I have to nibble.”

  “Delayed Training Effect from what?” Cal-com asked, getting back to the original subject matter.

  Paul’s new eyes narrowed, with the gesture being identical with his annoyed/serious look that he only showed when he’d made a mistake.

  “We messed up with the Saiyan genetics, I think. My head fog might be part of that, maybe not all of it, but I’m fairly sure it’s part of the problem.”

  “Lack of rest?”

  “We thought we didn’t need it, but if some of our adaptation wasn’t processing and has been building up over all these millennia…I might be letting it through, since I can now sleep.”

  “Your eyes?”

  “I don’t see how that’s connected, but who knows.”

  Cal-com held up his arm again, this time producing a solid shield plate rather than the mirror. On it he produced a variety of colors. “Spectrum check.”

  Paul stared at the lines, seeing the wavelengths clearly measured, then his eyes went wide with shock.

  “I can see UV and a bit of Infrared, but I can also see Gamma. Run a check with other races. See if there’s a partial match.” />
  “I already did. Unless it’s not included in the Regenerator database, there’s no exact or partial match. Similarities yes, but this appears to be upgraded Human genetics…to the point that it’s no longer registering as Human. Did your Saiyan genetics affect your eyes?”

  “Just the color, and we added that separate.”

  “Are you close to blacking out?”

  “It’s starting to build, but I’m not close yet. Give me some water. I used the rest earlier.”

  Cal-com passed him a fresh bottle, and Paul downed all of it, motioning for another that he half drank…then he stretched out his legs and laid back on the ground, staring at the tent top. “Check my water burn rate.”

  The Voku grasped his wrist again, with the Regenerator tendrils lightly drilling into his body briefly to get the necessary sensors where they needed to be.

  “Elevated. Your metabolism is far higher than Human or Saiyan, in spurts. If it was constant you’d be dead by now.”

  “The numbness to the universe. The focus on the mission. The need for something to do. That’s the way we are during workouts. Not when we’re resting.”

  “And you couldn’t fully rest,” Cal-com said, seeing the connection. “You were hyped up so much that your senses got numbed without you realizing it.”

  “And we advanced so much that none of our skills went backwards, they improved, so we didn’t notice the negative. We’ve been permanently in workout mode since we made the transition…and it’s gotta be worse for the others that went Saiyan 2 and 3. Ginsi went 4, so I have no idea how bad it is for her, but I bet she doesn’t even notice. We got too mission focused, and we forgot to notice our surroundings where they didn’t apply. And when we couldn’t slow down and rest, we had to have another mission or we’d go nuts. We were blocking some of our own abilities, the type that we couldn’t mechanically measure.”

  “And you succeeded.”

  “Which meant we forgot we’d lost anything. The zoom on my eyes just hammered that into my head.”

  “When you’re focused your situational awareness diminishes, and when your situational awareness increases your focus lapses. You have to rotate between them periodically, and you inadvertently prevented yourself from doing so.”