Part 1.

Chapter 1.

Thwap-burtz, thwap-burtz, thwap-burtz!

It was a dying echo of a klaxon siren that penetrated to the very essence of her being, assaulting her soul and her brain and sending tiny rivers of pain convulsing throughout her body until she thought she would scream for mercy and surrender to this most cruel of punishments.

It was this sound which jostled Damura from her unhappy and unproductive sleep, awakening her fears as it shook her body and mind from the dark recesses of blissful unawareness.

She wished it hadn't woken her. Yet again the Colonists were under attack from the Earthers. Perhaps it was now that they would finally submit to the relentless onslaught. Perhaps it was now that they'd finally die.

Only in death would her wish for freedom finally be granted. She almost wished for the embrace of death. But the touch of Siwian's hand against her chest reminded her that there were still things to live for, and she immediately regretted her earlier thought.

"It's just another attack, nothing to worry about. Come back to bed."

She smiled down at him, then kissed him and carefully removed his hand, squeezing it gingerly. "It's still an attack," she said. "No matter how many we've survived, I still worry, Si."

"They never break through the shield, and our defenders always win,"

Siwian said. "This'll be no different. There's no need for fear."

"I know, I know, but one of these day they'll devise a way to break that shield and then... well, let's say our research will have been for nothing. I don't appreciate the idea of being sent to a labour camp or an Installation. I'd rather be dead."

"You still call it research, even after all this time and all it means to you," Siwian said, shaking his head. "It's religious, truthful and just...

but you refuse to see it as that, yet you're as spiritual as the rest of us. You analyse the brains with a scientific mind, pensive and sceptical.

Strange, considering you're the only one of us with the gift of communicating with them."

"I'm the only one who can talk with them because I understand them," she responded. "I know where to look inside their minds. I don't care anymore whether I live or die, so I know where they hide."

"Living on the edge of nothing is dangerous," Siwian said, sitting up and placing an arm around her again and pulling her back against him. "You can lose touch of what's really important to you."

She didn't resist him, though she didn't respond to him, either. Their flesh touched as she leaned back against him, but the intimacy usually present was lacking. She didn't much care. The pleasures of the body were the last thing on her mind right now.

"I've always found it freeing, actually," she said. "Not caring about your life allows you to experience more, and I don't fear anything. I can taste life itself, strip it bare. I don't fear it anymore."

"You fear the Earthers, don't you?" Siwian asked quietly.

She raised an eyebrow and broke their embrace, turning around to look at him. "Of course I fear them, we all do. We're dying, Si. And our way of life is dying as well. That's what scares me."

"We don't all fear them, you know; some of us have come to accept them,"

Siwian said. "Or accept what's happening."

"Bull," she said, drawing away from him. "Everywhere I go I see the look on people's faces. You can't accept something you cannot understand."

"We've accepted them for who they are, not what they're doing. They are still our people, Damura; no matter how different we may appear to each other. It's survival of the fittest out here - we're fighting each other.

As you say they are stronger. We've accepted that and know it may be our time to die. At least we can face our death with some dignity."

"I can't believe that," Damura said."The thought of everything I've worked for, everything I have built being destroyed so easily terrifies me. I hate them, Si. I can't accept them."

"Even though they are your own people?"

"Well, that makes it worse, don't you think? Survival of the fittest, that's garbage. We're killing each other, plain and simple, and some of us enjoy it."

He looked at her. "I thought you said you don't have anything to live for."

"I don't, other than my work, my research," she said pointedly. "The only thing keeping me sane is my faith in Zanarex. By working on his creations, I feel fulfilled. That's the only thing important to me anymore, Si. I can't let that be destroyed needlessly, even if this is only just another attack. But I know there will be another... and another... and another...

It will never stop, not until we are all dead, or put in camps or whatever."

He nodded grimly, perhaps offering an understanding he did not really share, and said nothing as she floated away from him to a window, crossing her arms across her chest as she looked across the expanse of Air City, her home.

Buildings within the city rose and fell away before her, giant structures defying logic. Tall and imposing against the harsh yellow undertones of gases and mists within their adopted world from centuries before, floating cloudlike amongst the hues, suspended inside the gaseous realm by thousands of power generators, constantly straining with the effort.

Across this planet thousands of colonies floated, many more buildings interconnected by walkways and protected by an orbiting shield. This glowed blue above Air City's expanse and Damura found the sight reassuring until three pinpricks in the sky attracted her attention. They grew before her eyes, taking shape slowly, and she felt her stomach lurch into her throat.

Three squadrons of attack fighters were bearing down on them, their angular shapes gleaming spectacularly as they reflected the golden gases around them. The klaxon had told her they were under attack, but she wasn't prepared for how quickly the attack would begin. Or for its ferocity.

The attack fighters swarmed across the shield, dominating with powerful thrusts and evasions as defence perimeter weapons targeted them; they dodged, moving one way then reversing, accelerating away with mind-numbing speed and repeating the process.

They fired on the shield with purple lasers of light. Damura felt the reverberations like earthquake aftershocks, echoing through her bones and into her very essence, causing the foundations all around her to shake.

The shield glowed a bright luminescent white where the lasers impacted, explosions rocked along its sides as gases ignited with the power of small nuclear blasts.

Shadowy blips arose from the city (swimming across vortex lines rather than actually manoeuvring across them), the defenders rising to meet their attackers in the cruel brutality of combat and battle.

Soon red and purple lines of laser fire - intersected by more dark explosions - filled the sky as the two forces engaged in skilful dogfights; fighting within the gas planet was not easy and required many precise movements to ensure success.

Ships had to fly along vortex lines within the gases, manipulating their flight paths with their usage, and it made for engaging viewing under different circumstances. The most impossible of stunts and manoeuvres were performed artfully, the vortex lines intersecting and moving apart without warning like living entities. Only the best pilots were up to the task and dogfights were notoriously short affairs.

Defenders usually won the majority of engagements because living in the vortex lines gave them a special understanding of the lines and allowed them to take advantage of them, giving them a distinct advantage during combat.

Watching the battle take shape, Damura had to admit her preconceptions were being proved wrong in this case. The defenders were losing.

The attackers were cunning and ruthless, using the gases rather than their weapons to destroy their enemies. In space laser blasts which missed a ship by the barest of margins sailed harmlessly past; not so here. The lasers would ignite the gases and the explosions would disable or destroy the ship.

Attacking craft fired aggressively on the defenders, the majority attempting to evade, thus allowing some to sneak in behind them. These fired with ruthless precision, aiming for pockets of the volatile gases, causing their enemies to fly into the ensuing explosions.

With the defenders' main advantage neutralised they couldn't match the enemy ships weaponry or manoeuvrability. Despite their superior reading of the vortex lines, they were, quite simply, decimated.

It lasted all of three minutes before the last volleys of laser fire were discharged; the attackers lost only three ships out of thirty six; the defenders all of their squadrons.

The Klaxon abruptly changed its pitch, indicating an evacuation; Damura, shocked beyond belief, could not tear herself away from the window.

And then the shield surrounding them buckled and cracked and finally gave way under a steady barrage of fire, something no one other than Damura had thought possible. Entire sections of shield plummeted, smashing into buildings below, undoubtedly crushing many to death. But in their deaths they found solitude and Damura almost envied them.

The attackers circled over the destroyed shield, encircling the city, ready to pick off any evacuation ships trying to escape. Occasionally they shot down on weapons still firing defiantly back at them, but it was far easier to shift position to avoid them than to take the trouble of destroying them.

Damura pulled herself away from the window as troop transports bearing Earth insignias (the classic image of blue background with two hands interconnected, professing a peace and friendship that was noticeably absent during this war or any other) appeared, unable to watch any more.

She looked across at Siwian, who was still in bed but had seen it all from there; he was pale and looked like he was about to vomit. She felt the same and wondered if she looked like he did, as well.

"Now do you believe me?" she said. "All they care about is killing, and they do a damn good job of it, too. They annihilated us. They know how to break through our defences, and now we're nothing but game for their hunters. We fooled ourselves into a false sense of security, believing our walls were impenetrable."

"We thought reasoning -" Siwian began in quiet defence, but he was cut off as she interrupted him angrily.

"You can't reason with someone who believes you're inferior to them,"

Damura snapped. "They played us and manipulated us, and now they've come to finish the job."

"Surely they don't want to wipe out their own kind."

"It doesn't matter to them that we're their cousins; they'll kill us all, and frankly we deserve it - we acted like we could never be defeated. We were trapped by our beliefs, and it cost us dearly. All they care about is victory. They want us all dead. Or worse, in their labour installations and institutions as slaves."

She felt silent and Damura turned back to the window, surveying the carnage and ensuing chaos.

The troop transports - big, ugly and vile constructions of metal and concrete designed not for attractiveness but for effectiveness, made to carry people across the dark expanse of space for war and assault - bore down on them like dark and vengeful Deities, the wrath of their anger ready to destroy them all.

Attack fighters - two squadrons of them, angular and swift and deadly - providing escort. The remaining squadron descended from the golden sky and opened fire to clear the way, raining down indigo lasers of destruction across Air City.

Buildings collapsed, falling to the ground with an eerie silence. Streets flashed amongst the shadows of buildings and rubble as lasers scorched them, weapon's fire picking off targets, picking off people, seemingly at random. They exterminated the many hundreds of people fleeing in a futile attempt to reach shelter without a thought.

The troop transports landed side by side, dark cargo holds opening and descending to the ground. Damura thought she felt the vibration as they landed.

Smoke wafted around the transports as troops appeared from cargo holds.

Suited in black armour encompassing their small but nimble forms, Damura found them frightening, despite her more powerful build; their muscles and sizes were so different even though they were related biologically if not spiritually, those drawn from differences in gravity and surroundings and atmospheres. Brandishing laser weapons smaller than those mounted on the attack fighters, they were intimidating to say the least.

Damura turned from the window again as the sounds of laser fire wafted to her, as well as the smell of the burnt flesh of those who resisted, and she crept back to the bed and lay down next to Siwian.

He smiled at her, neither needing to speak. They kissed, consoling each other. The kiss lasted for only a short moment, but it was an eternity within itself and Damura never wanted it to stop.

But rather than taking it further - sex seemed impersonal at such a time - they simply held each other, their faces touching. She felt hot tears flow down her face and intermix with his own; they held each other as if this would be the last time, the last experience they ever shared with each other.

That was how the Earth troops found them, naked, holding each other.

Damura hardly even noticed the troops, despite her hatred for them.

Siwian and Damura did not resist, and it was probably because of that they weren't executed. They were stunned them, blue-white lines of light issuing forth and striking them. Darkness folded around her vision and Damura knew nothing more.

"The natural flights of the human mind are not from pleasure to pleasure but from hope to hope." -- Samuel Johnson.

Chapter 2.

Damura's imposed sleep was not a peaceful one.

It was haunted with dreams and penetrating images she didn't want to face but was forced to experience. She saw her entire world crumble to dust under the fire of attack vessels killing and murdering the innocent and the guilty alike.

When she finally awoke and her mind cleared to allow her to see her dark surroundings, she found herself in a cage without bars, only a forcefield protecting her and stopping her from falling out into the darkness of space.

It was the ultimate prison, really; no walls, no restraints, just a forcefield and space beyond that, so even if she could deactivate it she would die within moments.

Damura glanced around. She found she was not alone.

Circling her was a living mass of people and faces, terrified men, women and children alike. All with the grim acceptance of their fate and the fate of their homes showing on their despairing faces. They seemed horribly thin.

The place reeked of body odour, as well as urine and faeces, which wasn't a good sign; some must have been taken from other colonies and cities and been on this transport for a very long time without the means to empty their full internal bodily recyclers.

Damura felt like retching at the foul stench, but withheld it; there was something about it that she found horribly reassuring, reminding her that she was still alive no matter how much she might wish for death.

She had awoken relatively near to the forcefield, having probably been thrown in without a care by the troops. Damura stood now and backed away to a far wall. A child was beside her; barely out of infancy, the girl sobbed quietly.

Damura her heart ached with each sob, as if the tears were her own as well as the girls. She finally offered the limited comfort she could to the child, sitting her on her lap and holding her. The girl seemed surprised by the gesture, but welcomed it and hugged her fiercely, letting go of all her fears and worries, releasing them to the protection of the older Damura as a protector or a guardian - or a makeshift parent.

The girl eventually fell asleep on her lap and Damura looked at her. She really was quite beautiful, with brown hair sweeping down over her eyes, highlighting her pale face; her chest rose slowly in time with her breathing. Her tear-streaks gleamed as stars caught her face. She seemed so innocent, so young, not deserving of the fate awaiting her.

Not that any of them were deserving, of course.

The forcefield glimmered for a moment as the ship - it must have been one of the troop transports - lurched into the stream of lightspeed, stars distorting themselves, red and blue and yellow streaking as one behind and around her as the speeds took effect.

For an instant, Damura saw those within this cage reflected against the forcefield, and she saw herself, twisted and deformed, holding the child to her chest protectively, nurturing...

She smiled to herself. Damura had had many long-term lovers, but none of her relationships had worked out. Secretly she had always wanted to be a mother, to have a child, but she would never have allowed herself to have one. The premise of constant attacks and violence didn't exactly allow for a safe place to raise a family.

The war between the Earthers and the Colonists had begun so long ago that none could remember the exact reason, but it was known that it had been raging for well over three centuries, at least.

Originally the Earthers and the Colonists had been of the same race; Earth was their homeworld and they lived in peace under the same banner of Homo Sapien.

It all began when prominent members of a Religious Order on Earth disagreed with the treatment of artefacts they held sacred - namely, several thousand brains kept alive for centuries through artificial means.

The brains had been removed from the smartest men and women alive and placed in tubes and fluid to sustain them, the minds of some of the greatest thinkers ever to walk the Earth. The Earthers wanted to access them to see if they were still alive, and if they were to then use the knowledge and information inside for their benefit.

A religious order possessed the brains and were determined to keep them to themselves, wishing to decipher the brains; they believed that the minds were still alive within them and by freeing them and the knowledge within, they would allow a new era of peace and prosperity to befall the galaxy, one where information was of paramount importance to all.

Realising that they would be forced to give the brains over, the Religious Order secretly created a mass of crude starships and used them to flee with the brains halfway across the galaxy, where they settled and colonised and once again began to decipher them. They became two separate races then; those who left Colonists, those who had stayed on Earth called Earthers. But the Earthers had pursued them and war started.

Death and pain and destruction, fire and agony and chaos. They were the truths of war at its most brutal and the Earth-Colony Wars were certainly that. Unrestrained combat across all surfaces, attack and defence on both sides had shaken the very foundations of the universe as the two sides fought each other, intent on the other's destruction.

Many had died on both sides and neither was completely blameless. But Damura knew the Colonists had not massacred the innocent as the Earthers had in many engagements. That more than anything was probably the main reason the Colonists lost the first war.

They retreated instead of fighting when it became apparent the Earthers weren't afraid to shield their installations with civilians, and rather than take the risk of attacking and killing innocents. They took the brains with them.

Of course, things didn't work out the way they planned.

The Earthers surprised the Colonists by attacking their bases and cities, decimating them, forcing the Colonists to retreat deeper into the galaxy's unexplored territories, relocating what few ships had survived the initial onslaught.

All that had been a century ago, and it'd been rumoured then that the Earthers were not content to let the Colonists survive well away from them; it was told that the Earthers followed the Colonists across the darkness between the stars themselves to exterminate every trace of their cousins. The legends were true, but they had not discovered that for a long time.

The Colonists evolved during the voyages deep into the unknown, changing to incorporate their surroundings in permanent zero-gravity. The offspring of those original Colonists had become more like eagles than humans because they were born in a zero-gravity environment; their bones lengthened and expanded and their weight became more suited to life in their new environment, their arms and legs grew longer and stronger for enhanced movement, but they could still survive in normal gravity too if required. Genetic changes had been made as well, allowing their eyesight to adjust to the darkness of space or the richly vibrant contours of alien worlds, and their bodily wastes to be internally recycled for a short period of time, as well as other less meaningful changes. These changes, though, were not heredity and had to be performed on successive generations.

During the flight the ships were changed to large cities and then relocated onto habitable worlds; the populations on the ships grew as the cities were constructed around them.

For a time the Colonists were happy. Believing they'd escaped their deaths they began to be careless about their defence, not making weapons and ships. And they began to analyse the brains too soon. They were not prepared for their future. When the Earthers finally did find them, using technology far beyond that of the Colonists, the only thing stopping their total annihilation were the shields protecting them; for some reason, the Earthers couldn't break them easily - though they were capable of it in large numbers - and it gave defenders the necessary time to destroy their opposition.

After an attack the cities, should they survive, would relocate to either another part of the planet or another planet entirely, and the Earthers' hunt would begin again until they found them, and the process would repeat. But Air City was so large that it couldn't relocate easily and it had been attacked almost continuously for much of the last decade without a chance of real escape.

Eventually, the Colonists had run out of options (not to mention lives) and their cities began to fall at a more constant rate. The Earthers had the advantage of being able to call for reinforcements and to receive them in minutes with the aide of their lightspeed technology, which the Colonists did not possess.

As a result, the Colonists were being slaughtered.

Damura had grown up with the constant fear of Earther attacks, and she hadn't relished her upbringing. It was filled with death, pain and destruction, and haunting images of beauty and peace and the promise of freedom in death. She had known - and loved - people who had died during Earther bombardments, and had almost died herself on many occasions.

At thirty one she should have been in her physical and mental prime; already she was a distinguished scientist and scholar amongst her people, tasked with deciphering the brains her religion of Zanarexity held so sacred. She'd been successful in her attempts to communicate with them, actually, the only person in Colonist or Earther history that had ever truly talked to one.

But instead of continuing her efforts she was being transported to an Earther installation for processing. There she'd be forced to slave in the asteroid mines for the rest of her miserable life, never again seeing the light of day or feeling the embrace of another...

The ship lurched again. The infant stirred in her lap, but refused to wake completely. Her face twisted as if sensing danger as the streams of lightspeed vanished and the obscurity of space appeared again, replacing the vibrant beauty. Damura soothed the child's head reassuringly and she soon drifted back to peacefulness.

For a moment Damura was envious; she knew what awaited her soon enough and the thought of being able to trust someone else was... a tantalising dream.

Like an echoing mirror of her thoughts, the installation suddenly appeared before her, like a sullen and crepuscular ghost. It was, like most processing and mining installations, located amongst an asteroid field (the others were inside captured comets) - this one probably the belt between Mars and Jupiter.

It was shaped oppressively, curving like a spiderweb, stretched out and covering a large boulder-like asteroid in its entirety. Dark contours criss-crossed its exterior with thin white-grey lines, harsh lights glowing from within.

She shed a silent tear as it grew, the wails of those around her shocking and horrifying - and all too descriptive.

A docking port grew before her and the transport shuddered as it attached.

A long, thin tube slotted down around the forcefield protecting them, a cylinder of protective metal. The forcefield dropped away. Several guards appeared (half their size, but much more intimidating) and ushered them down the tube and into the installation.

Damura complied and stepped into the tube at her turn, holding the child protectively against her. A guard noticed and tore her from her grasp. The girl awoke and screamed and Damura swallowed heavily, watched the girl as she was carried away, still screaming.

It was none of Damura's concern now. She continued to walk, but the screams stayed with her inside her mind - and her soul.

Footsteps thundered and echoed through the tube as they walked towards their destination, the processing center, heads downcast, unable to look forwards.

Like Damura, they all knew they lives were over.

"A fanatic is someone who can't change his mind and won't change the subject." -- Winston Churchill.

Chapter 3.

One Year Later.

Damura bled in heart and in body.

Once she'd been proud and spirited, working hard to please the Earthers.

Once she had been one of the best labourers and workers; complying without the need for prodding. But her enthusiasm was quickly dampened by the constant beatings and the lack of food, and her pride and spirit had diminished rapidly.

She struggled through each day, taking each as it came and not asking for much except the necessities of life and the will to survive. The work was hard and many people died around her as she mined the ore inside the asteroid, the ore that the Earthers used to line their starship hulls and accentuate their weapons.

The ore was highly unstable and had to be mined with a laser - which wasn't the safest of tools because the beam often ignited the substance.

She had seen many of her colleagues lose limbs from explosions, then executed because they could no longer work.

It had taken her a long time to adjust to the lighting here; it was brighter than what her eyes were accustomed to. It was just another way the Earthers tortured her kind.

When she'd arrived a year ago she had been processed like all others (stripped naked, groped and evaluated), then assigned to the mining duties. She still carried the scars of her 'evaluation'. Interrogation was closer to the truth.

The Earthers insisted they work hard in the mines, but the food they fed them was meagre with no nutritional value to allow them the strength to work - some kind of slop that defied both imagination and digestion. At times, they were so weak they were forced to eat the garbage the Earthers threw onto the floor of the mining areas.

The Earthers didn't care about any of this and butchered those they thought were slacking. Some were executed because examples needed to be made. And yet others were butchered because the Earthers simply could.

Young and old, sick and healthy, all were forced to work. Many survived the hardships, and many didn't. They were all resigned to their fate. They knew death would come eventually.

Damura had quickly learnt there was no privacy in a place such as this.

What little quiet there was would often be rudely interrupted by Earther guards and troops. They were assigned cramped quarters that any sane person would find claustrophobic and allowed four hours sleep a day; they worked two shifts of nine hours, with a single hour break from their labour. Few slept during the limited off-time they did have, anyway.

Some were lucky. They had managed to set up shops and businesses along the borders and smuggled the workers equipment and water; they served as pharmacies, also, though with little in the way of stock. Others had been chosen as concubines for Earther troops. They were treated well, better than most of the others, but could never face their own people again.

Those who were impregnated by the troops often aborted, and those who didn't faced the consequences of being shunned by their own people and not ever being touched by a male in their own community. They became outcasts even from their own people.

And then there were those who were favoured by the Earthers for assisting them in identifying stragglers and problem-cases; they were collaborators one and all, and sold their souls to the Devil to survive.

During the limited quiet time she did have (time which would probably be better spent sleeping, resting and conserving her strength), Damura contemplated suicide, the final escape from it all. It was so easy to do, and the Earthers didn't discourage it; it was their way of weeding out the weak workers from the strong.

She tried once, unsuccessfully; she cut her wrists with a piece of ore she managed to smuggle out, but another worker saved her life and Damura had lived to regret it. She'd never tried again, though. She stayed to spite the Earthers.

Damura didn't appreciate her time being interrupted, so she was grumpy when she answered a summons now. She found two guards standing before her, shifting uncomfortably. Even when wearing their characteristic black armour from head to foot they seemed smug and arrogant.

"We've got orders for you to accompany us," one said to her.

"What, right now?" she said innocently. "Surely they can't want me back already."

The other one shrugged at her. "Don't ask us, lady," he said. "We're just following orders."

"Yeah, you're real heroes," Damura said with a heavy sigh.

"Look, don't make this hard." The guard reached to a utility belt and withdrew a pair of wrist restraints.

Damura glowered at him for a moment, then extended her hands and he cuffed her, the familiar orange glow of binders stretching from wrist to wrist.

The energy binders stung, but not unpleasantly; she'd been cuffed so many times that Damura had grown used to the sensation.

They escorted her down several flights of corridor in silence, shoving her with the butt of their rifles in the small of her back when she moved too slowly for their tastes... and she got the sense they did it occasionally just for fun.

"What do they want with me?" she asked.

"Dunno. Rumour has it a bigshot's here to buy some workers. We were told to round up some of you. Your name was on the list. Doesn't mean you've necessarily been selected, so don't getchya hopes up. I don't think it's his list, perhaps the Installation Commander's."

She nodded as they continued, and they stopped a moment later next to a door that slid open at one of the guard's touch. "In you go."

She began to move inside, and paused as she saw a series of steps leading down into darkness. There was no light and she strained to make out the silhouettes of other people kneeling on the ground, cowering against the walls in fear.

The guards didn't like her hesitation and kicked her legs out from under her. Damura crashed to the ground and groaned in pain; she still wasn't accustomed to the feel of this gravity and the smallest amount of sudden pressure could tip the balance and hurt her severely.

They were no doubt aware of this as they kicked her again while she was down, causing her to roll down the stairs. She heard something clop as she landed on the floor awkwardly and saw flashes of red before her eyes. She spat blood from the impact her jaw had made with the ground and raised her hands (still shackled) - and wiped her mouth. "You treat all your prisoners so well?" she asked the guards.

They laughed demonically and the door, mercifully, slid closed, abruptly cutting their cackles to a dry echo. Damura flexed her jaw and prodded at her arm; it was severely twisted but it wasn't broken, nor dislocated, which was a relief.

Gingerly she worked her way to her feet and moved over to the wall populated with others of her kind. Her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness and she saw their shapes more clearly, particularly the impressions of bones against skin, they were so starved. They were all nursing injuries.

"Are you hurt?" a person near her asked, keeping a careful distance.

"Not severely," Damura answered. "A few scratches and bruises."

"Good. I'm glad. I've seen you in the mines. It was your hard work that stopped them executing half of us for not reaching the daily quotient."

"Well, I don't like what I have to do, but it avoids pain - mine and other people's," Damura said gently.

There was a gentle whooshing sound that caught their attention, ending their conversation. Damura glanced upwards at and saw the door slide open, casting a ribbon of light across the room for a moment; in it stood two forms, one the Installation Commander, the other belonging to someone she'd never seen before. The Colonists, herself included, shrank back further from the light and the figures.

The door hissed closed behind them and the shadows disappeared, but the sounds of footsteps moving cautiously down the stairs told Damura they were still there. When the footsteps stopped, a torch flickered over them.

"You brought me more than I asked for. I only wanted the one."

The Commander, judging by her voice, seemed surprised. "She's here, sir.

You just need to find her."

Light swept across those gathered, then flicked across them more slowly, showing their individual features. A man appeared behind the light, short by most Earther standards. Damura could make out few details about him except for his cold and calculating eyes.

Damura felt the heat of the light sweep across her body then up onto her face and she hardened her expression and stared blankly into the light, even though it pained her to do so. It paused on her for a moment, then moved on and she let loose a sigh of heartfelt relief; she'd rather die here than be some kind of personal slave.

The light flickered over all the Colonists relatively quickly. "She's not here," the man said to the Commander.

"Are you sure?" the Commander asked. "Some have been here so long it's hard to tell. They all tend to look the same."

"I'd be careful," the voice said. "These are still people."

"They're barely human," the Commander said. "Each day another dies and goes nameless into the graves outside. Soon they'll be nothing but a memory, and we can all rejoice on that day."

Slap! Damura jumped, expecting the blow to have hit her or some other Colonist, but it was the Commander sent reeling. "They aren't monsters,"

the man said. "As I said, they're still people, no matter what side of the war they are on. You'd do well to remember that."

The Commander said nothing in return and the man returned to his search.

Light flickered over the Colonists again, just as blinding as it had been before. It paused on Damura, wavering slightly.

The man leaned over her, observing her more closely. She could smell his clean breath; it was in direct contrast to the stench of the installation and showed the differences in their circumstances.

"What's your name?" he asked quietly.

"Damura," she responded.

"Yes, I thought it was you. You look different to your file."

"I imagine I would," she said. "We aren't exactly well treated here"

"No, I suppose not. I'm Charles. I'm going to get you out of here."

"Why?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I want to help you," Charles said.

"A kind Earther? I never thought I would see the day."

"We aren't all bad and cruel. Not all of us agree with the war, or your subjugation. Some of us, like me, want to help." He whispered so only she could hear.

"An honourable Earther. Now that is even rarer," Damura said dryly.

"Perhaps no phenomenon contains so much destructive feeling as "moral indignation", which permits envy or hate to be acted out under the guise of true virtue." -- Erich Fromm.

Chapter 4.

Charles was rich, Damura quickly discovered. His wealth was accumulated from factories producing various types of mechanical and technological constructs popular to Earthers.

She didn't know the full extent of his wealth, but it was considerable.

Hardly anyone owned their own shuttlecraft, let alone the grandiose one Charles possessed. Apparently, he had several more modest than this on Earth, as well.

It was a handsome craft, even by her biased standards. Shaped plainly, its beauty came from interior decoration rather than exterior hull colour or appearance. Artefacts from Earth's past, and from the remains of past civilisations Earth had recovered, stood along the walls.

Apparently, Charles was a collector of these artefacts, judging by the number of them and the actual styles extravagantly placed across decks and rooms.

Damura felt almost humbled in the presence of some of these artefacts from races and civilisations older than the Sol star, humbled and also grateful. They showed that nothing was permanent, that everything would come to an end eventually; for all their magic and technology, the advanced civilisations had all died or fled beyond the Milky Way out into the darkness between galaxies where they wouldn't be disturbed.

Humanity would join them, one way or another; life itself was too destructive for it not to happen. Conflict was the way of the universe, and the way of Humanity. But no struggles would matter one day; the universe would grow cold and die and no life would survive, not in the physical form. It was information and knowledge itself that would survive in the minds, or that was what Damura had been led to believe all her life. To believe or understand anything else was blasphemous.

These artefacts were quite beautiful and she could see why Charles would want to collect them, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he and the rest of humanity had plundered the tombs of the dead to get them.

They who once hated the scavengers who stole from the illustrious Pyramids had now become those they so despised...

Damura shrugged her shoulders. She was not interested in the petty dealings of the Earthers, Colonists didn't follow such pursuits; they believed in science and learning comforting both the body and the spirit.

They had no real need for material objects. Still, she couldn't help but admit that she did find them... alluring.

Charles showed her around his distinguished personal shuttle as soon as they boarded. He took her on a tour of what would be her home for the duration of the voyage, some days as he had some business he had to attend before he could return to Earth.

She didn't mind. Damura found it rather comforting out here in space, actually; it reminded her of her past life. It hadn't been a pleasant one, but it had included enjoyment and passion and things which made it worthwhile for the most part. Parts of the shuttle had areas purely of zero-gravity and she planned to make her quarters inside them to insure her comfort.

That in itself would seem luxurious after the heavy, restraining gravity on the installation and, of course, the hours of gruelling labour.

Damura'd miss neither.

After the tour, Charles took her to a small eating area down on the lower deck. The food was some kind of meat and vegetable stew, and Damura hadn't tasted something so good. Even on Air City she'd never been well fed.

Charles ate nothing and seemed to derive enjoyment just from watching her eat.

"Why did you choose me?" Damura asked finally after a period of silence between them. The question had been playing on her mind for a while; why out of all of those people had she been picked, had she been spared?

"I'd heard of you," he replied. "I did a bit of additional research and found out more about you. I discovered you had talents that might be useful to me, so I bought your freedom."

Damura glanced around her at servants cleaning and preparing meals and so forth. Human and android servants. "Very kind of you," she said with blatant sarcasm around a mouthful. "But I'm not equipped for that type of work. I'm a scientist and a theologian; I don't know how to clean or cook."

Charles smiled at her, a condescending smile she found sickening. "I want you as a scientist, my dear," he said, spreading his arms wide. "As you can see, I've got more than enough servants. Your talents are of more use to me than anything else you might be able to provide.

"And there's another reason I chose you. You appear to have been someone of importance, and I'm interested in your religion. I'm curious and I'd like to know more about it."

"Why? It's no concern of yours," she growled; he had touched an area she was uncomfortable discussing.

"The Colonists have always been a mystery to me. I've dedicated my life to exploring mysteries, and the Colonists are the biggest of those. These artefacts around you are not on display because I wish to impress people; they are here because they interest me. I'm curious about what is held important to different peoples, different races, even if they are mostly dead, and the ultimate of those would be the Colonists. You abandoned us and tried to escape from us, and no one really knows what made you do it."

"You're a sceptic, all Eathers are," Damura said, eyes cold and hard. "I can't teach you what you can't understand. You want to observe me to see what I believe, but you won't understand it unless you believe it for yourselves. Religion is passion and emotion, and it's shaped my life and my direction. I can't teach that."

"You make it sound like I want to put you on display."

"Well, that is what you want to do, isn't it? I'm a living artefact, aren't I? You bought my freedom only to put me in a more comfortable prison."

"I think you've misjudged me," Charles said. "I bought your freedom because I believe we're all equal. I don't want you in a zoo. I want you to help me, nothing more, nothing less."

Damura stared at him for a moment, deep into his eyes, looking for deception, but a hard compassion instead ... and what seemed like a genuine willingness to listen and learn.

Could she trust him, though? Was there an ulterior motive she couldn't begin to hazard a guess at? Earthers were notorious for perpetuating lies and propaganda. She was sure he was as skilled in the art as anyone, but she found herself wanting to trust him.

She took another mouthful of food, chewed and smiled at the delicious flavours, then said, "I don't know if I can explain what I believe without explaining the principles of my religion. And that means explaining how it began. That's a long and twisted story."

He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "Go on. I'm listening."

Damura nodded and began her story.

Zanarexity is the religion founded by the earliest Colonists, based on the teachings of Timothy Zanarex.

To give it justice, Zanarexity is not really a religion at all, but the symbiotic belief of unity and peace and knowledge shared by all peoples across the Colonist territories and the borderlands between Earth space and the Colonist territories. It was most prominent and respected in Air City, which was where the legendary Brains of Zanarex and his Disciples were stored.

Timothy Zanarex was probably the greatest scientist ever in the history of mankind, quite brilliant but unorthodox; he achieved much of his greatness by experimenting outside ethical boundaries, testing on people as well as animals to cure disease and enhance minds.

Zanarex was born before the splitting into human factions, and his revolutionary research would later cause that very same split.

When he graduated from Earth Universities, having earned several prestigious degrees in his respective fields, he quickly began rewriting research into the human body. In particular, he was obsessed with the human mind. He believed it to be the primary piece of brilliance in all the universe, housing thought and imagination and the very essence of the mind and the soul; perhaps everything that was human.

His research into genes was startling, producing results the likes of which had never before been imagined, but it was his research into the mind that destroyed people's conceptions of right and wrong. Zanarex proposed that there was no God, that humanity was advancing to the state of godhood and should keep aiming for those achievements. By unlocking the foundations of man's creation, man himself was becoming immortal.

This greatly angered the religious members of Earth, but they were in the minority and while their cries of disapproval were heard, they were dismissed just as easily. Zanarex was being praised by the others because of his research and he was told to continue, privately endorsed by governments.

What he did next was impossible to truly comprehend. He murdered some of the smartest people of his time for his research and removed their brains and harvested them; he froze them in special containers which allowed the mind to live when the body had died.

Zanarex believed that by harvesting these minds he could access them and receive knowledge from beyond the grave, the information accessible only through death. It was harder to communicate with the dead than he had anticipated, though, and his work kept hitting barriers.

Protesting continued against his work, but Zanarex continued to collect knowledge and resources from the harvested brains, though at an abominably slow rate and the government began to get restless - and they began to fear his growing power. They finally listened to the protesters and placed him under arrest, for murder.

Not happy with the direction things were going, Zanarex escaped the only way he knew how to - he committed suicide and harvested his own brain to survive punishment and death, hoping to one day be restored. In the meantime he would be in an eternal realm of knowledge and thought - inside his own mind.

The government, upon learning of Zanarex's apparent death, quickly separated itself from any involvement and things began to return to normal.

What people did not know was that Zanarex had students loyal to him and they were intent on restoring Zanarex. They began to experiment on the harvested brains and over a period of a century more were added to them in secret. A Religious Order began to develop, centred around the restoration of Zanarex and his brains, his Disciples and the greatest minds of Earth began to be harvested, either through their brains or through DNA strings for cloning back later.

The Religious Order grew powerful and reached the point where there were hardly people any on Earth not touched by the belief of the Brains in some way.

What happened next was unexpected. Some sensed that the brains could be used for different purposes than those Zanarex had intended; they believed they could be used and programmed to perform tasks impossible for humans, their reflexes astronomical because of their reactions with pure thought...

Those loyal to the ideals of Zanarex disapproved of this, and created their starships and fled Earth, taking their sacred brains with them.

Earthers began to revert to their old ways (Atheism, Christianity, Buddhism, and Judaism predominantly) and, angered at being robbed of the brains, pursued the Religious Order across the galaxy, engaging in combat, successful in many instances. The Order retreated further again, escaping the Earthers for what they thought would be an indefinite time.

During the war between the Earthers and the Order (the first Colonists), a new generation of people had been born into the Order. It was they who would attempt to decipher the brains on distant worlds across the galaxy.

When Air City was created it was the predominant housing of the brains, where most research was done.

Belief evolved from a religion based on knowledge to a religion based on the teachings of Zanarex the Prophet, the man with a vision for the future where knowledge would be everything and life would exist on a higher plane of peace and harmony when he returned and the knowledge of death would be freed...

Then the Earthers attacked again having pursued them across the galaxy and the wars resumed. The Colonists fought back in defence to protect their dream of unity in the galaxy.

None realised the irony of their situation, that they killed to protect the peace they so desired.

"As far as I know the brains are lost now," Damura continued. "They were either destroyed during the raid on Air City when I was captured a year ago, or they were captured by you, by Earthers, which would be worse."

"You were the only one who'd ever actually talked to them?"

Damura nodded. "Yes. I seem to know where to look inside their minds to coax them into communicating. I don't know why, but I do. That's the only real talent I have, you see, talking to dead people. Not even that, really... talking to dead mentalities."

"You identified that they were completely dead?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No, but they were as good as dead. I detected nothing which indicated any real life, at least not in the ones I spoke with. They could talk, they could communicate with me, but they didn't really understand what they'd become - the pure existence of thought, basically.

But I can't be sure about my findings. They were... somewhat inconclusive."

Charles raised an eyebrow. "Somewhat inconclusive?"

"They could still think and feel, but they had no real way of knowing where or what they were. They were still alive, depending on how you define alive, but they weren't able to react with their surroundings. Some I talked with were able to react with me, but not with anything physical.

They would need coaxing into acting outside."

"If you accomplished that, what'd happen then?" he asked. "Would they choose to interact with the physical realm again?"

She cocked her head to the side, thinking. "I don't know," she said evenly."I don't even know if they were aware of anything outside themselves. I was like a visitor inside a realm of thought; they knew I was there, but they didn't know much of anything outside. Some had memories, but nothing much more. It's complicated."

"If I told you I had access to several of the brains," Charles said, "would you be interested in testing that assumption?"

"Yes, of course."

He shrugged noncommittally. "They were taken from Air City during the raid and our scientists began working with them, but they had only limited success. Some were smuggled out onto the black market. I managed to procure ten."

"Why would you be interested in them?" Damura asked. She laid her hands on the table, either side of her plate; she had lost interest in eating when she had began explaining Zanarexity to Charles.

"I'm a Reformist, Damura," Charles said. "As I said earlier, I believe in life and I don't like seeing anyone suffer. People are dying. I want to see it stop. There aren't many of us, but we're vocal proponents of peace.

Our message is getting through. I believe that both sides, Earthers and Colonists, view the brains as valuable. By accessing them we may finally have some ground for a settlement."

"If what you say is true, I'm surprised you haven't been executed by now,"

Damura said flatly. "That usually happens with those guilty of treason, doesn't it?"

He smiled thinly. "My position and my wealth protect me. I'm just a wealthy diplomat who owns some factories; those people trying to diffuse the violence are the true heroes. They risk their lives trying to bring stability. So you can see why I want you. This should appeal to your beliefs, as well as to mine."

"Peace is an idealistic dream, the easy answer when pressed. I want to know what you really want in return," said Damura, looking him in the eyes, trying to intimidate him. It didn't work.

Charles smiled thinly. "We all want something, of course. I'm no different. I truly want peace, but I also crave the knowledge and information the brains may offer, even if you can't access them completely. It's of infinite value in a world which reveres knowledge and intelligence. Just imagine what the dead could tell us. It would be very profitable, don't you think?" His smile vanished and he looked down at the floor, unable to face her."And I want you, Damura."

She laughed suddenly, abruptly, causing his head to snap up at the harsh sound."So I was right; you did buy my freedom to make me a slave. You're offering me personal slavery. You want my body, not my expertise."

"I'm not some kind of sexual predator," Charles said, a false expression of hurt growing across his features quickly. "I want to help you, and me, and to give you your freedom. I'm not going to force myself on you. You're intelligent and I like that. I want you, but I want you to like me back."

"That'll never happen," Damura said bitterly.

"We'll see. I'm a man of patience; waiting doesn't bother me."

"Well, you'll have a long time to wait," she said, pulling herself to her feet and leaving.

The shuttlecraft was (amazingly) fitted with water for bathing and not with sonic showers, which removed dirt rather than massaging it away gently. After her confrontation with Charles she'd retreated to her quarters and had run herself a hot bath, relishing the opportunity to bathe and wash away all her troubles.

Well, most of them, anyway.

She undressed and threw her clothes in a corner for later retrieval and moved to the side of the bath (her quarters were in the zero-gravity area but the bathroom had zero-gravity switched off, because, obviously, the water would escape) and got ready to climb in, but paused as she caught sight of herself in the mirror opposite.

Damura had always been stick thin, but now she was thin to the point of what many would consider anorexia, and it scared her. Her bones protruded against her skin, which seemed baggy and unreal, not like skin at all.

Scratches and scars marred her body from injuries too numerous to count.

Her dishevelled hair stretched down past her mid-back, having grown considerably longer during her imprisonment. Likewise were her nails. Her brown eyes were full of torment. Her face and skin was grimy, her pale complexion nowhere to be seen under the dirt and soot accumulated from the mining.

This person seemed like a stranger to her. Damura had always prided herself on her spirit in the face of adversity, but she couldn't detect that anywhere - either on her or within her. She'd become a scarred mass of pain and agony and despair, but that was nothing compared to her loneliness.

The installation and the mining had broken her in mind and body and spirit, she realised. The only thing that'd kept her sane had been her religion, holding on to the facts she had been taught from birth. There was little else she could have done in the face of torture.

Damura sighed heavily, turned away from the mirror and climbed into the bath. The water stung her scars - she wasn't sure what to expect having never before had a bath (water was a rare commodity on an Earther planet, let alone a Colonist city) - but she grew accustomed to it relatively quickly. It turned black as it removed dirt and odours and she felt rejuvenated at the transformation.

She felt a new life beckoning and Damura closed her eyes.

"Don't believe that winning is really everything. It's more important to stand for something. If you don't stand for something, then what do you win?" -- Lane Kirkland.

Part 2.

Chapter 5.

"So. What do you think?" Charles asked, taking an uninvited seat opposite Damura as she studied the package before her. It was less a question and more a demand, really, to see if his money had been well placed.

"It looks promising," Damura offered.

"What, nothing more?"

"I won't be able to tell until I test it," she said. "Looks like it's in good order, but appearances can be deceptive. Most things can appear perfect, but when you look to the interior you find they're falling apart.

You can't rush something as fragile as a brain, Charles. You need to be delicate with it for fear of destroying it, or whatever is left of the person inside."

"I'm not suggesting you rush it, only that you... see if any results can be acquired more quickly."

"Sounds one and the same to me," Damura said softly.

He shrugged his shoulders in response and said nothing.

She brought the package over to her as a way of avoiding him and his pointless bantering. It was a thin stasis tube, the translucent cover coated with condensation. Despite this the brain inside was clearly visible, floating harmlessly in the strange amber fluid that sustained, regulated and nurtured it. The pink tissue was given a tinge of golden purity by the fluid.

Damura read some of the readings of the equipment attached to the tube, and nodded as she interpreted them. It amazed her that she could still understand them after such a long absence, but it came back to her naturally enough; it was what she did best and felt most comfortable doing.

"I guess we can try to access it," she said a moment later. "Nothing fancy, just a brief reconnaissance into the mind to see if it's still aware."

Charles nodded. "I've all the equipment you'll need," he said.

"You know a lot more about what I do than I do about you in return,"

Damura said quietly. "You research appears to be quite extensive."

"It's sound business sense for an employer to know everything about his worker, including areas which may not seem relevant. I anticipated what you'd need and purchased them. I know more about you than you may know about yourself, Damura. I envy you. I'm really nothing but a simple man who wants to help."

She raised an eyebrow at that. "Somehow I doubt that very much. But you envy me? Why?"

"You're gifted with something I can't understand, the power and ability to communicate with the dead. Knowledge's literally yours for the taking.

It's a dream of mine, limitless wisdom. Does this surprise you, Damura?"

"It surprises me that you envy me, certainly, considering where I come from, what I've been through. You seem to have lived a life of ease. Have you ever had to dirty your hands, Charles?"

"I'm no angel," he answered, "but I've been fortunate, yes. I've heard stories that the mining conditions were abysmal, that they'd reach temperatures of 55 degrees Celsius and the workers forced to slave even when dehydrated. Is that true?"

Damura's eyes darkened as she relived past experiences and memories, the cries of the living and the agony of the dying... She finally turned back to him. "Yes, they were true," she said quietly, her voice a whisper; she found herself barely able to speak, choked up with memory. "They beat us and raped us, as well, and expected us to work. The temperatures during mining operations were often high, then they would torment us during our breaks with temperatures in our quarters as low as minus 10 degrees Celsius. We had no blankets. The sudden drop caused hypothermia in many of us. There were no doctors and very little aide, only small pharmacies which stocked ridiculously antiquated medicines."

"How... how did you survive?" Charles asked; she wasn't completely sure if his sincerity was truthful or not, but she didn't detect deception in his voice.

"Many of us didn't," Damura said. "Many died from the lack of food and water and hygienic facilities, or from the workload; diseases were rampant, such as malaria which had been eliminated before through genetic treatments. The bodies were deposited in mass graves outside."

Charles looked down at the floor with a horrified expression on his face.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, obviously not sure what else to say.

"Don't be. They escaped. They took the only way out available to them,"

Damura continued. "They grew tired of the pain and gave in. I can't blame them. You have no ideas the horrors I saw there."

"Well you're free now."

"No, I'm not," she said."It will always be with me, in my head and in my heart. I won't allow myself to forget. The suffering is a part of me now, a part I have to live with."

Charles showed her to a room on the shuttlecraft which housed all the equipment he'd procured, and Damura shifted through it to find all she would need: a link cord, a cerebral implant and a monitor to display her journey.

The way she communicated with the brain was relatively simple; she'd found that complexity wasn't good for any communication, and that was why many other methods had failed. By inserting the implant at the base of her neck, then adding the link cord to the implant and joining it to the allocated area in the stasis tube housing the brain, she could join with the brain mentally.

It was a little complicated. The amber fluid was not just a storage fluid for the brain which kept it healthy, it was a conductor and amplifier; by connecting Damura to the tube, she could send her brain waves along the link cord and they would, in turn, be passed on into the fluid. As the brain was no longer restricted by a human body and existed in a realm of pure conscious thought, when added to the fluid it became almost telepathic and could join with any brain waves in its immediate vicinity, bringing Damura's mind - along the link - into its limitless territory.

The trick was, once inside, actually communicating with the mind and working out if it was still sentient or not. Without the ability to fully react to people and its surroundings, was it still technically alive, and if so was it still human by definition?

Communication was one thing, but judging a person's sentience... that was almost impossible and Damura had to listen to her heart - even if, while inside the brain of another, she didn't technically have a heart - to do that; she had to listen not to thought, but to the soul inside to see if it still existed.

Damura reached up with the implant in her hand and pressed it firmly against the base of her neck. It gripped securely with little metal tethers and pain hit her like a physical blow for a moment as a neural connection was made, then it dissipated.

Charles assisted her with placing the cord into both her implant and the tube, as well as branching it off into the monitor to allow him to see what was inside the brain's mind.

She activated the implant and she felt her body slacken as her mind drifted away on waves of thought.

Darkness was all around her, like an encompassing entity draining her of emotion and passion and belief. It always started like this; it was the bridge between her mind and the brain's, and she still found it disconcerting.

Then the darkness subsided (suddenly, inexplicably) and colours exploded forth. They spiralled and criss-crossed vibrantly, networks of greens and blues and reds and purples, perhaps lines of thought interconnecting.

Damura had no other description adequate for it.

She felt like she was in a pool of knowledge and power, submerged in their unfathomable depths, but she wasn't drowning or suffocating in it. Truly indescribable images swam all around her and she became lost in their depths. Thoughts, feelings and beliefs came together in a vivid kaleidoscope, trapped murals of memories being replayed continuously, timeless spectres of the past and endless visions of the future combined as one.

Then: Who are you?

It was a voice, but it didn't belong to a person and it hadn't been spoken. It was simply a thought, a projected collection of words shown before her as a communication; put another way, it was simply there.

It was the voice of death but also of life and reason, the sound of a Mentality restrained and trapped by the walls of eternity. It was the voice of the Brain.

Again: Who are you?

-- I am Damura.

What do you want?

-- To help you, to guide you back to us.

Us? What is us?

-- A figure of speech, so to speak... or think. I mean the living.

Do I not live?

-- I cannot really say.

Why not?

-- Because I don't know. I'm here to find out, wherever here is.

Then what am I?

A moment's silence.

-- I do not understand the question.

You say you are Damura. I see you as a corporeal being intruding on my space. If you exist in my place, then what am I to you in yours?

-- You are dead to me, or at least not living in the way that I am. I'm intruding upon your space, and for that I apologise, but I am curious. You see, I and those like me use the physical to learn. You do not live in the physical world, not anymore at least, though you once did. To me you are thought, but to yourself you are probably much more.

You're right. I once walked a world, a plain, different to this one. I too was once a physical being with a body. What's happened to the world I left?

-- It's been devastated by war and famine. Earth has split into two groups of peoples who fight with each other.

Is there much death?

-- Yes. Many people have died and many more will die.

Unfortunate. I believed in peace when I was mortal. War cannot touch me here. I am beyond such things, such concepts. I cannot be harmed.

-- Why not?

This realm, the realm of thought, is completely different to the world or the realm of the physical, the one I remember. Only harmony and peace reside here, the outside world can't hurt me. But there's so little room for individuality here. I sacrificed my personality to become immortal.

Here I'm alone for much of my time; only occasionally can I communicate with others, find others. I've not talked to others for close to half a century, your time.

-- What was it like when you talked to them? Did you share anything?

We shared each other. We existed as thought and a moment was a lifetime.

We shared all our concepts, beliefs and memories through a simple connection. We knew each other intimately and we could hide nothing from each other. You share the same with me now, but in a different way.

How do you see me? Do I appear as a god to you?

-- No, I don't believe in gods or deities, only in the power of creation and thought and knowledge.

I once thought as you do, wished to pursue knowledge. When I entered this realm I knew everything I had ever wanted - and do you know what I found?

-- No.

I found that eternity is wonderful for a few centuries, but there is so little you can enjoy. You live and you breathe. You are lucky. I no longer experience the same things you do.

-- If you saw my world you wouldn't think that.

Perhaps.

-- My people have been reduced to a slave race.

But it ends, doesn't it? Death does come to you. Here I live in a different kind of misery - the misery of knowing everything without the chance of learning more. How can you quench the thirst for knowledge when you know everything?

-- What if I offered you a way to interact with the world outside, to learn again?

Silence. Then: Go on.

-- I can't give you a physical body of flesh, but I may have a way to give you a metal body. By freeing your mind and linking it to others and to machines that would allow you to interact.

This is possible?

-- It's similar to what I am doing here. Where I am you're suspended in a machine as nothing but a brain. I just link one machine to the other and you should be able to access it.

Why would you do this?

-- As I said, I wish to help. And I'd like to know what you know, as well.

I can't do it yet, though. I need to get the equipment and there are distractions here.

I understand. I will think this over. I will hear from you again?

-- Of course. In a couple of weeks, probably.

I don't experience time, centuries are moments, but I know what you mean.

I look forward to it.

Damura pulled herself away from the mind, returning to her body. She felt drained physically, mentally and spiritually; such conversations were quite taxing and it would take her a while to recover.

She opened her eyes. The world seemed dull and unattractive compared to the beatific contours of the thought realm. It always seemed that way. The comparison was unfair, however, and she'd just take a while to readjust.

Damura looked at Charles. He was pale, his eyes focused on the monitor; he'd have seen everything she'd experienced, but seeing wasn't the same as feeling it. "You made contact, I see," he said simply, forcing himself to turn to her.

She nodded. "Yes. This one's more exuberant than the others. He seems alive and aware of his surroundings."

"You can do what you said?"

Damura nodded again. "Yes, but I need time to work it all out. We need to allow him to interact, but we don't want something magnanimous; we need something simple. I'll need time for tests and to develop a proper link."

"Tell me, what's it like inside there? It looked incredible."

"It is incredible," she said, "and almost indescribable. You exist as pure thought and... mind, I suppose. That's dangerous, especially when trying to communicate; if you lose your train of thought for just a second, you can become lost in the mind. It's intimate, like knowing yourself from inside out, and the other person, as well. It's almost like sharing souls."

"You enjoy it, though?"

"Oh yes," she said. "It's one of the only places I feel safe. The closest place to Heaven I've found."

"Sorrow looks back, worry looks around, faith looks up." -- Quoted in Guideposts Magazine.

Chapter 6.

Earth looked magnificent from above, a mass of colour, water and land washed together on some unimaginable canvas, but it was even more astounding from the heart of one of its many cities.

The Earthers transmitted information through the air, manipulating the airwaves to carry invisible lines of communication that could be caught and interpreted by technical machines. It was a society dominated by the pursuit of knowledge, and it was reflected in the many imposing buildings as well as in the ingenious methods of communication.

Damura had hated Earth for all her life, hated everything it stood for; it was the homeworld of her enemy, but now she realised it was the Colonist world, as well, no matter how long had passed. Damura couldn't overcome her hatred, but neither could she shake the feeling that this was some kind of homecoming.

It was Charles who surprisingly suggested she move away from the bustling city landscapes and out into the refuge of the natural organic world beyond. He said that hardly anything was out there and she'd find very little to distract her.

She'd accepted this and journeyed out with nothing but the clothes on her back, some meagre supplies and the equipment she needed, heading for the infamous Zero Sector.

Earth itself was divided into four sectors; Alpha and Beta Sectors were where the majority of Earth's inhabitants resided in either land-based cities or ones of the airborne variety, and almost 10 billion people lived in those divisions.

Nature Sector was, as the name implied, a reserve for protected animals and plantlife and anything else to do with the wilderness. Nature Sector was actually more than just the one area. It actually consisted of large, encompassing domes interspersed through Alpha and Beta Sectors, like Zoos or Arcs highlighting Earth's past.

And then there was Zero Sector...

Zero Sector wasn't even supposed to be a sector, it was purely accidental that it had been created. Just before the Earth-Colony wars had first started, explosions and destruction had rocked the cities, reducing much to rubble. It was the Religious Order who had started it, attacking to ensure they could escape.

It caused more than just physical damage; the after-effects of the blasts were felt for years as earthquakes and seismic activity struck in areas that had never before had them. The people grew fearful and demanded they be relocated away from the areas.

They were turned down by the government and rioted, destroying just about everything. The government reconsidered their position and finally gave the people what they wanted.

The first airborne cities were hastily constructed and deployed to meet the demand for relocation. The destroyed cities were cordoned off with force fields, and eventually sealed away from the public with embankments.

Now it was all rubble. Not a soul could survive without outside assistance. It was completely and utterly abandoned and that made it perfect for Damura's uses.

The embankments that sealed it off were not insurmountable to those who had the resources. For those who owned shuttlecraft it was possible to simply fly over it and descend into it, as Damura - Charles having loaned her one - did now.

She was directly above and it began to come into view below her, the decay impossible for those outside, who lived in luxury, to comprehend.

Damura picked out a spot relatively clear of debris (clear enough to effect a landing, anyway) and headed for it. A faint flash of blue light shone from the shuttlecraft's engines as it accelerated and Damura felt her stomach lurch; she still couldn't get completely used to the effects of this heavy gravity and any sudden movements or accelerations bothered her.

She landed relatively smoothly several minutes later, after many precise adjustments and added directions; the shuttle settled with a typically mechanical and lifeless sigh onto the ground and powered down.

Making her way to the entry ramp, she lowered it and stepped out onto Earth soil for the first time.

"A man has made at least a start on discovering the meaning of human life when he plants shade trees under which he knows full well he will never sit." -- D. Elton Trueblood.

Chapter 7.

Damura spent several weeks in the absolute Silence of Zero Sector, growing accustomed to the rubble, deciphering the brain she had brought with her, learning very little about the personality inside the brain but a lot about the ingenious process in which it had been frozen. Not even Charles interrupted her solitude. Someone appeared twice a week to bring her food, supplies and any equipment she required. She was thankful Charles was considerate enough to accommodate her need for space without too much apparent difficulty.

She was actually learning a lot more about him from afar than she had in his company. She learned that he was kind and considerate and did generally believe in the Reformist Movement.

The Movement was much stronger than she'd previously believed it to be, with more members like Charles cloaked in shadow but pressuring the government for reconciliation. Politics within politics...

Meanwhile, the younger and more radical members of the Movement devoted themselves to stopping the bloodshed, at great risk to themselves and their own freedom. They uploaded information onto the Nets, where anybody intelligent enough to know where to look could access and learn from it.

According to unnamed sources within the Nets' database, it was Charles and a half-dozen others who secretly funded these activities. This could never be proven by the authorities; the evidence had a habit of disappearing and erasing itself once identified. As Charles had said, his money and influence protected him.

Damura was quickly discovering there was more to Charles than met the eye, more than a customary first impression could tell. She was also beginning to find that she liked him.

He had arrived a day ago upon hearing that the experiment was nearing completion; apparently, he wanted to be here for the triumphant moment when the mentality was transferred from brain to machine.

That moment - whether it would be a success or failure Damura was still in two minds about - had just about arrived, but after so much fastidious detail it no longer seemed as important as the affect it would have during the next few weeks and months as their results were published on the Nets and more brains were freed.

Still, the thrill of the moment excited Damura even if she didn't admit it. All preliminary tests had been accomplished successfully, all fail-safes had been bypassed. All that was left was the beginning of the transference.

For the umpteenth time in the last hour, Damura moved across to the machine she'd assembled and quite unnecessarily checked its readiness once again. It was a cobbled together assortment of metal in the shape of an unsophisticated robot; antiquated in comparison to anything as complex as even a shuttlecraft, which had to think for itself at least a little bit, but it had everything necessary to move about and interact with its surroundings.

Once again, it all checked out.

Damura felt a reassuring hand grip her shoulder, offering support. "Nerves get to the best of us," Charles said. "Unfortunately, they don't go; you must learn to use them to your advantage."

She sighed. "I've communicated with them many times, and that isn't what bothers me. It never felt as daunting as it does now."

"I'd expect nothing else. You don't like being the center, or the cause, of attention. You don't wish to admit you're about to make history."

Damura offered a small, thin smile. "I guess I am, aren't I? I hadn't really thought of it like that. I was thinking of what it'd create and accomplish, not how it would be seen." The smile suddenly vanished and her eyes widened. "Oh God, that makes it much worse."

Charles chuckled and his grip on her shoulder intensified. She shrugged her shoulders, shaking his hand free. "Well, come on, let's get this over with," she said.

Charles linked her into the brain's stasis tube; a cable was attached from the tube into the robot just as there was one from her to the tube, and Damura felt a moment of apprehension; what if her tests were wrong, what would happen to the mentality if this carrier wasn't strong enough to convey the power of knowledge itself from one being to another?

Then the walls around her darkened and she was transported back into the trapped mind.

Lights and colours and images flashed and pulsed all around her as Damura searched for the mentality. She knew exactly where to look, in the places where one would not be disturbed or found except by another who understood the pain of facing reality. These places were not always easy to find and it was difficult not to be distracted by the surroundings. She did her best not to become lost in the vibrancy.

Nevertheless, she found the mentality as abruptly as she had before. At least this time it was a little warmer to her approach, though not much.

I was wondering when you would return.

-- We had to get all the equipment ready, but we're ready to begin if you are.

Everything is in place?

-- Yes. All our tests show no major difficulties during the transference, but others are monitoring just to be sure. The equipment itself is ready and tested.

Then I can finally be free of this haunted place.

-- Only if you're strong enough to leave. I can't just transport you out, you have to find your own way. Outside there's a body ready for you, connected to you. In here, you need to find the manifestation of that connection and follow it from here back to the real world. This way, you will always be inside the robotic body and also here, as long as the link is active.

How do I find this link?

-- If my observations are right, this realm exists as pure thought and memory and experience, but it can be influenced from the outside even if we cannot communicate fully from there. The pathway should be here mentally just as it is there physically.

What exactly do you see here?

-- Light and vibrancy, beauty and harmony. Memories transported too fast for me to comprehend. Little storms of knowledge flowing all around, harmless and informative.

To me this place represents the darkness of perfection. I see the beauty, but I have long since learnt to look beyond it. It's no longer attractive to me; I know all its secrets. Now it is dark and lifeless and cold.

Perhaps I really am dead and cannot feel or see a thing.

-- Then get away from here. I offer a way back to life and experience, but only you can take it.

I shall.

The realm twisted and contorted around Damura as the mind looked for the tunnel between worlds and realms and perhaps life itself, searching inside the fabric of his reality - and perhaps also his prison.

It quickly became an elongated swirl of colour as he found his tunnel and travelled along it, pulling Damura along with him through their connection, their surroundings becoming two indistinguishable lines of darkness and vivacity.

They sped together as they raced across the universe of a mind, across the mental pathways of a brain and the infinite possibilities contained within. Then a hazy flash of bright white light dispelled Damura from the realm and she awoke, almost jarringly, back in her physical body.

She felt the shock of the proceedings and the full brunt of the unbelievable speed of the progression, and collapsed onto the ground, blinking rapidly to readjust to human dimensions.

Endless moments stretched out without meaning for Damura as she struggled to find her way back. It felt like she was now trapped within her own mind, unable to escape... But also strangely blissful because no longer did she have to face the world and its hazards and agonies. This terrified and thrilled her at the same time.

Her vision cleared finally and she was returned to the physical world. She managed to stop herself from blinking and looked around, her gaze settling on the robot. And the life and intelligence settling within it, visible through glowing eyes.

"The home is not the one tame place in the world of adventure. It is the one wild place in the world of rules and set tasks. -- G. K. Chesterton.

Part 3.

Chapter 8.

Several months later.

For the first time in she didn't know how long, Damura felt at home, safe and secure, back in Air City. This wasn't the real Air City, of course; that'd been well and truly reduced to rubble, gutted and destroyed in a halo of fire after everyone had been rounded up and shipped unceremoniously, like cattle. No, this was nothing but a simulated memory made possible by the latest advances in VR technology.

Still, Damura felt strangely centred here, like she had found the equilibrium her soul had been robbed of. She made use of this simulation often, even though she knew it wasn't real.

It was beyond the powers of VR to accurately represent people (they came across as blurry, angular and deformed, bearing a passing resemblance to something once human), so Damura avoided the difficulties and interacted with - or only recreating - physical surroundings and landmarks familiar to her. This made it seem like one big, empty ghost-town. Damura spent her time in places she had cherished and she knew they had once held the noise and exuberance of people.

Most often she would return to the place where she and Siwian had shared their last, tender embrace, the bedroom where they'd lived and made love so many times. Many would call this sentimental. It probably was, but she saw it more as remembering the past, and embraced the part sentimentality played in that.

She had first started entering the sanctuary of her thoughts and memories when the world had turned more hostile, seeking peace within the only place she could still trust.

Protests were rocking the foundation of Earth civilisation and were beginning to bring it to its knees. People were opposed to further ing the Mentalities development, fearing they might advance too far. When Damura had developed the Mentalities she'd been forced to leave Zero Sector, and she could now see that her isolation there may not have been the best thing after all. Now she could see how angry the Earthers were over their creation, whereas Zero Sector had shielded her from their thoughts and feelings before.

To escape this, Damura went into her mind. In a way she'd become dependent upon this place; it was a sanctuary where her troubles didn't intrude and she knew her thoughts were private and truly hers.

But all she was doing was deceiving herself in mind and spirit, and deep down she knew it. The more time she spent here the harder it was becoming to face the world she'd left. She was stuck in a moment from her past and she couldn't get out of it, even when she was awake; her mind always wondered back and it was becoming like she was permanently there...

Hours later, Damura removed the VR glasses. Air City disappeared back inside her mind, waiting to be brought back to the surface. This was probably the one thing Damura didn't like about it; each time she exited the simulation, she was forced to view Air City's destruction again. Once was enough for a single lifetime.

She blinked to bring reality back into focus - and almost screamed when she saw Charles watching her, his eyes boring into her, seeing past the physical and studying the spirit.

He offered no apology when he realised she was 'awake' from her imposed 'sleep' or hallucination. "If you've got a minute, I'd like to show you something," he said instead.

"Sure," Damura said, the creases of a slight frown ridging her eyebrows.

He offered her his hand and led Damura through his home.

Charles lived in a building of attempted modesty that failed quite miserably. Many spacious rooms were inside, each with their own privacy locks. Consisting of two floors, the downstairs was luxurious with several large rooms for entertaining and relaxing, and a kitchen for preparing food. The upstairs was for sleeping and relaxing, with bedrooms and studies for himself and his servants. One of the rooms was always locked and Damura had never been inside, so she did not know what it contained.

It was this room Charles took her to now.

Damura didn't know whether to feel privileged or saddened; there'd no longer be any mystery here, and that mightn't be such a good thing.

Inside she found an assortment of trinkets and artefacts from a more grand age. The room itself was cavernous, tiled with ingeniously intricate patterns, the expanse covered by bookcases equally cramped with books (very rare, most had been lost with the invention of datapads and information Nets) and artefacts proudly displayed on their shelves.

Damura walked amongst them, marvelling at the fabulous works available.

She picked up a book at random and flipped through the pages, approaching it as a curious insect might a deity. The pages were dry to her touch, yellowed and firmed with age, and dust drifted away from them. Damura sneezed suddenly and felt a twinge of embarrassment as it echoed.

"My library," Charles explained with a wry smile on his face. "I rarely show it to anyone. We have few libraries left now and that's a pity.

There's something more romantic and fulfilling about reading books, studying them on paper and not on screens.

"But few of us actually know how to interpret the words. Our language is the same in speech as it used to be, but is extremely different in written form. I've taken the time to become versed in it and I've learnt much more from these than I have from the Nets. Much more about the human personality, at any rate. Books convey a sense of wonder and anticipation and excitement the Nets don't.

"A library isn't just a collection of work, nor is a book a final culmination of words; both are so much more. This is my way of experiencing history, and at the same time making sure history survives further into the future."

She looked at the words on a page she selected as randomly as the book she held in her hands. They blurred together in seemingly unintelligible configurations, making no sense whatsoever to her. But she could appreciate the importance and value they had once had and Damura felt a twinge of... blasphemy just standing here. A selection of knowledge and information gathered like this was almost sacrilegious to her religion and she felt unworthy amongst it.

She refused to show this to Charles, though. "Impressive," was all she said, putting the book back in its place on the shelf. "Is this what you wanted to show me?"

"Yes and no, actually. Come on," Charles answered, taking her hand again and leading her further into the library.

It was indistinguishable from the rest until seen close up. Instead of books or artefacts on the shelves were the brains inside their tubes, freed but separated from their robot bodies for the time being. They bobbed up and down slowly, revolving in their protecting and nurturing fluids.

Only ten brains were here, all that Charles had managed to obtain, but hundreds throughout Earth and its assembled colonies had been freed with the use of Damura's techniques. Out of these, Timothy Zanarex had yet to be found or identified.

"I want to show you a new technology," he said. "As you know, the Mentalities can't use their bodies for prolonged periods. What we've done is create a link between them to allow them to communicate with each other on what we call the Thought Realm, their state of consciousness but joined, whenever they want. The results can still be observed in the physical realm as well, and are quite something to behold. I'll show you."

On closer inspection, Damura saw leads and cables lying around the tubes.

Charles connected them to the necessary ports. When the last one was attached, a bright flash of unlimited light filled the room for an awe-inspiring second before clearing as abruptly and suddenly as it had appeared.

When it did clear, though, the air and the room itself were given different dimensions and seemed to pulsate in time with the thumping of her heart; everything glowed spectacularly and for a moment Damura thought she was inside some kind of temple of perfection, suspended in a timeless moment.

Then shapes appeared. Rectangles revolved and flashed and became cubes and squares without actually changing. Memories and thoughts surrounded everything; the connection between the mentalities was so strong it was reflected in the physical as well as the thought realm, as Charles had said.

"What is this?" Damura asked.

"We don't know, exactly, but we think this is a representation of their thoughts and their knowledge. Our little friends have learnt and thought things we've only dreamt of and use those to react faster than anything I've seen before, thinking and seeing possibilities before they actually happen. And now they can communicate, they share knowledge with each other and their influence stretches out to our realm as this."

It made sense. This library had become a conduit of shared wisdom, reflected in a way humans could understand. This was easy to see because the room no longer had an entrance. Markings and indefinable features melted away slowly to be replaced by endless stretches of mental thought and representation, a collage of external beauty reflected from internal magnificence.

The room had been reconfigured and filled at the same time.

Damura frowned as she looked around her. The room was bigger than it had been before. The representation of infinity, crowded into one room, a universe of minds inside a galaxy of thought...

The room had taken on the dimensions of space itself and it rolled on forever.

"The things we fear most in organisations - fluctuations, disturbances, imbalances - are the primary sources of creativity." -- Margaret J. Wheatley, Leadership and the New Science.

Chapter 9.

People crowded around Damura in great numbers and she found it extremely hard to breathe. She felt swamped amongst them and she hated to admit it; with hands clasping and clawing at her and the loud cacophony of voices deafening her, the twinges of claustrophobia induced by her previous captivity at the hands of the Earthers threatened to overwhelm her.

They held placards linked to Net frequencies as well as (rare) written messages, and some had even gone as far as inscribing and tattooing phrases onto their bodies. They were all unified, in their anger and in their fear.

These protesters - around 100,000 thousand were gathered, but there were believed to be as many as a million elsewhere, sharing and supporting their beliefs - had set up camps around the construction facilities that built the robot bodies. Embankments had been hastily set up to keep them out, and it appeared they were content to wait, for now at least.

Their intentions were clear enough, even if their overall patience was not: rip down the embankments and get to the robot bodies - and the workers - inside.

More than anything Damura wanted to push her way to the front of the crowd and persuade them that the act of violence would only escalate the problems and the tensions, would serve absolutely nothing except to create more panic...

But she didn't. She knew she wouldn't get through to them, that her words would only worsen matters.

Instead, she stood with them and listened to them, hearing and sharing their fear even if she didn't agree with it, could not completely understand it, or the motivations behind it.

It was survival she understood, and fear, not the motivations for killing.

Or, for that matter, murder, which is what this would be if not stopped soon.

Finally, Damura managed to drift away to the back of the crowd until she was completely unnoticed, detached from them and their hatred. They pretended to be fair and just, but let their emotions run rampant and influence their supposed 'clarity of thought'. They lived for the future, fearing the present and any changes made to it.

It was not a way to live or to experience life. As a Colonist, Damura had learnt to live in the moment, just surviving, relishing every second of experience and life as a small victory. It made her seem complacent in the eyes of some, but Damura found it gave her an edge. The edge was anger.

It fuelled her. These people were fuelled by the need for action more than by their anger and fear. Their's was not a cry for vengeance.

Damura had nothing to live for and everything to gain. The Earthers valued their material world so much they couldn't survive without it. It was probably the most prominent of their weaknesses, this value of individual possessions and assets and (Earther) freedom, but it was also their strength in dire times.

United they stand, divided they fall, as do we all.

It was impossible to sway or divide a crowd so biased; there was no way to stop the problem without exacerbating the situation further. Knowing she could do nothing, Damura turned away and headed back to Charles's home.

"Look, try to cheer up a bit," said Charles. "Our people are well trained and the embankments are solid, they'll stop them from getting through."

"There's more going on here than crowds gathering outside the factories,"

she said. "Am I the only one who sees that?"

"Yes, you want to make it into something else to reassure yourself you aren't wrong. In my experience, a little caution is never a bad thing.

Sometimes you can try too hard to anticipate an opponent and end up making a mistake."

"You think that's what I've done?"

"I know you believe in learning. You've not considered the possibility that these protests are simply a way for the people to communicate with each other, to share their feelings. At the moment, they're peaceful. And they don't really look like turning violent. No one's in danger, Damura.

They just need time to learn more."

"I was with them, Charles, you weren't. I don't know if they'll change their minds. Fear is a very dangerous weapon. This isn't just going to go away. I think these protests will develop further given time."

She shifted about uncomfortably. "And, you are wrong, actually. I believe in knowledge, not in learning. I believe that in knowing your opponent, in knowing information, you'll know what to do in any given situation.

Learning is simply the means of getting what you need."

"What about Timothy Zanarex? How do you see him?"

"He's a prophet, so to speak, not a God."

"A lot of people think spirituality is the heart of a person. If it is then isn't that responsible for shaping you, or is not Zanarex responsible for giving you a sense of direction, the ability to decide, a soul?"

"With all due respect, even if that's true, it's a contradiction, Charles.

A person has to know how to act individually. I believe spirituality is important in defining a person, as is self-belief, but it's knowledge that is the person's heart, what gives a person the means to decide, and the only thing you can't be robbed of."

Charles smiled thinly, almost knowingly - and sickeningly. "Then does the pursuit of knowledge become sacrilegious to you, or is it just knowledge itself you hold sacred?"

Damura refused to dignify that with a response "A sense of curiosity is nature's original school of education." -- Smiley Blanton, MD, Love or Perish.

Chapter 10.

Damura slept badly that night, her subconscious was filled with disturbing dreams.

Though her night was permeated with distressing images and haunting visages of fiery destruction, there were two that haunted her deeply, penetrating into both her conscious and subconscious.

One was of her climbing a mountain, her hands and feet connected to the burnt rock like an extension of her body. Something from below distracted her and she turned to look at it, only for it to elude her gaze. Then she would slip, plummeting into the hazy brilliance of the surrounding wilderness rapidly changing into a shadowy darkness, with a voice laughing all around her. She'd fall for an eternity without ever actually landing, just endlessly falling and tumbling...

The other was much more personal. Damura found herself imprisoned in a coffin, surrounded by the same shadowy darkness from her other dream ...

or hallucination ... whatever. Then claustrophobia would grip her more powerfully than a physical blow. She could hear fire crackling outside, feel its heat radiate through the wood. She coughed on the smoke and her eyes widened as the terror gripped her again and she would slam her fists against the wooden coffin, trying to call attention to herself as the world seemed to draw inwards around her, but nobody would come...

As the fire burnt her alive, as her screams of torture went unheard, one word grated across her mind like a flash of lightening: Punishment.

Each time Damura awoke she reminded herself they were just dreams, utterly harmless. But she couldn't shake the feeling, though, that these were more than that, perhaps premonitions or worries twisted and distorted by her mind in an almost unrecognizable form.

She didn't know what it was that told her this, or what inside her told her to trust this feeling, but it was there all the same. She listened to it secretly, locking it away inside the secure vault of her soul.

Damura woke again after another bout of nightmares, cold sweat plastering her body. She make her way to a communication terminal halfway across the room which beeped insistently at her, bringing her out of her troubled slumber. She slept half-naked because of the heat the weather controlling devices delivered to Earth, and she slipped on a textured robe before answering the summons.

It was, unsurprisingly, Charles. The communication was slightly grainy, indicating he was travelling inside lightspeed, and interlaced every now and then with static, but apart from that it was in good order, without time-lapse, which was rare. He smiled at her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I just wanted to say I'm going away on business for a couple of days. I'll be back soon, but I left you a gift to keep you company until then."

"Look, I appreciate it, Charles, but I've told you before I don't need charity," Damura said back, slightly angry.

"You might find this gift a little different, more to your taste than others I've given you," Charles said, his smile still affixed to his face as if stuck on with some adhesive. "And I'm not offering charity, I'm offering compassion. I want you to trust me and believe in me. I am trying to help you but you are pushing me away."

"I push you away because I've seen too many people I know hurt and I don't want you to be one of them," Damura admitted quietly a moment later. "This is something I have to do alone. Do you understand?"

"I think so, and I'll grant you your wish, but look at the gift okay? It's outside your door," he said. He disconnected before giving her a chance to reply, and a blank screen glowered before her, embodying her frustration.

Damura squeezed her fingers together until her flesh turned white, then sighed and let her hands drop back to her side. She appreciated Charles and his efforts; he really was a kind man who wanted to help her, but he'd lived such a sheltered life he thought he could solve problems with money, buying happiness.

Nevertheless, she made her way across the room to the entrance. It slid aside with the touch of a button. Three men stood there, two security guards and a prisoner who wasn't wearing restraints because he didn't look strong enough to escape. Neither did he wear clothes, with the exception of tattered scraps that might once have been trousers.

The prisoner looked half-dead. With long hair falling down to his shoulders and a pale complexion and scars and scratches running across his body, Damura almost didn't recognise him, but she did and caught her breath. It was something in the face that gave away his identity, a spark of the humour and zest for life that he'd once held sacred, something that told her this was Siwian.

The guards shoved Siwian roughly even though he complied like a person broken in body and spirit. Pushing him onto a chair, they retreated back the way they had come, the entrance sliding closed behind them with an eerie silence.

Damura moved over to Siwian cautiously and knelt beside him, forcing him to look her in the face. "Is that really you, Si?"

He eyed her as if eyeing a stranger for a moment, then found the strength to nod acknowledgement. "It's me," he said.

"I thought you dead, it's been so long," said Damura.

He made no effort to reply.

Damura retrieved a robe from a nearby closet and handed it to Siwian. He covered himself amd she observed him for a moment. His health had deteriorated badly since they'd last seen each other. His eyes were hollow and empty from wounds inflicted emotionally as well as physically, his face drawn and thin. He was a broken shell of the man he had once been, but a glimmer of defiance was somehow still radiating from him.

Finally she said, "I had to move on, but I never gave up hoping, Si. I owed you that much."

"You owed me nothing. But it was hope which made me survive," he said.

Damura looked at him and realised it still seemed like some sick delusion.

She reached out to touch him to reassure herself this was not a dream, that he was really here with her. His skin was cold but felt deliciously human and fragile and real.

She could not think of a reason why Charles would give her this gift, but she silently thanked him for it; she didn't know whether he would feel jealous of Siwian, but for now she was happy and she supposed that was what mattered.

She smiled at Siwian.

"I'm different to what I was," he said softly to break a growing silence.

"They sent me to a high security installation. It killed me piece by piece, killed what kept me alive inside. I just did what I could, took it one day at a time, and didn't lose hope."

"Like we all did," she said, haunting memories coming back to her, as well.

"Your friend thinks a lot of you, Damura. You mean a lot to him."

"Who would've thought that, heh? An Earther liking a Colonist."

"Are you close?"

"Yes," she said.

"By choice?"

"Yes," she said again, more quietly this time. "For all I knew you were dead, Si, and as I said I had to move on. Charles was attractive to me, I don't really know why. He was kind and gentle, I needed that after the Installation. I still need that," she admitted.

"Do you love him?"

"I... don't know." She searched her feelings but wasn't surprised by what she found. Damura sighed. "I think so."

"More than me?"

She sighed again, more heavily. "I feel for you both in different ways."

"Why do you work for him?"

Damura smiled and leaned against him. "What is this, an interrogation? You used to work for me and you loved me, didn't you?" she said.

He pulled away. "Seriously, Dam, I need to know."

She sat up abruptly. "Seriously, I work for him because he gave me the opportunities I thought I'd never have again. I get my freedom in return.

I enjoy what I do, and it allows me to follow my beliefs."

Siwian grunted. "Sounds like you're working with the Devil to do it, though."

"Maybe. But frankly I'm surprised you've even heard of it. Did Charles tell you?" Damura asked.

"No, I'd heard about it," he said quietly. "Actually, I doubt there's a planet or installation run by Earthers that doesn't know about it. I would say that you've done more than continue your research."

Damura frowned eversoslightly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Siwian sighed. "Just before your friend arranged my 'freedom', a new influx of captives arrived, bringing with them stories of a new kind of ship with inhuman manoeuvrability and accuracy. They believed them to be the freed Mentalities, linked or whatevered to these new ships, allowing them this added instant reaction time which gave the Colonists no chance.

Even if you didn't know, you played a part in it, Damura."

"You mean they created weapons?" she said.

He shook his head. "No, they used them as weapons."

"When they're freed we transfer them to bodies but nothing as sophisticated as assault fighters."

"How else can you explain this? You can't; these weren't human actions, these ships are faster than anything we've seen."

"Charles is a Reformist, and he owns the construction facilities which put together the bodies. He wouldn't have an interest in creating the ships."

"Reformists want unification, but they also want Earth interests to be secure. He may have found justification in slavery, better than death or some such crap."

"He wouldn't lie to me."

"I'm sorry, Damura, but that's what he's done, or someone else certainly has. There's proof available on the Nets if you don't believe it, and if you still don't, then check the factories. They should have some record of the ships. They may even still be producing them."

She nodded but said nothing. More than anything she wanted to stay here with Siwian. But she was worried and distracted. She had to discover for herself whether this was the truth or not. She was not looking forward to it.

Damura made her way along Earth's dusty streets, not caring for the reactions of those around her startled to find someone so different to them, but also similar to them in the most basic of ways, amongst them inside their sanctuary and home.

They thought of Earth being perfect, when really it wasn't. The people and the surroundings pretended to be in harmony, but cracks were apparent and all of it was really nothing more than an orchestrated charade to make sure society did not fall apart.

If one cared to look deep enough, it was easy to see the deception and absolute chaos lying underneath Earth's perfect surface.

She could not afford to believe Siwian's pronouncements, but neither could she afford to ignore them completely. No matter what she felt or may have become, she still valued the truth and had to know either way...

Up ahead the construction factories bloomed into view, their industrial stacks billowing pollution and smog into the atmosphere. Factories had changed very little over the centuries - clear air and natural resources were still sacrificed for the end products. Luckily, methods were available to extract the pollution, purifying the air before it could cause any lasting damage. It was at these factories she would learn the truth.

As Charles's consort, Damura had no difficulty obtaining entrance, even though she didn't have the clearance for the areas she wanted to see. But that in itself was not an insurmountable problem. Damura knew how to move without being detected and easily crept past security checkpoints into the construction lane. Invisibility was the art of not being noticed, being inconspicuous, giving no one a reason to notice you. She was a master of that.

In the construction lanes, conveyor belts carried numerous parts to assembly areas where they were tended by a combination of workers and robots. Further along the constructions took shape, the numerous assemblages were welded together and the finished products were checked and taken away for transport. Damura made her way to the transport area and found racks of large and small robot bodies piled together, watched over by workers who didn't notice her. She watched from a distance to make doubly sure she wouldn't be observed.

There were three designs here, and it was that which told her all she needed to know. There were only two designs (discounting other, less complex instruments occasionally used but the third was not one of those, anyway) currently in circulation that Damura knew of. This other design was illegal and thoroughly different to the others. It was much larger by far, more angular and irregular in concept, with numerous gadgets affixed to it. Though small in relation to machines Earthers used, it was undoubtedly what Siwian had said it was - a ship. And it looked durable enough for a Mentality to survive in long-term if necessary.

Only the Mentalities could assert control over them; there were no cockpits as the mentalities would not need to see as much as feel their surroundings. They wouldn't need an entrance, and the strange shape would allow for dangerous and instant adjustments based on thought and instinct.

Damura sank to her knees, despairing as she realised she'd been responsible for this. It shouldn't have been that hard to see, but she'd become complacent, trusting Charles, putting aside her instincts that'd kept her alive for so long.

She felt the slaughter of her people weigh heavily on her shoulders and on her heart, wondering why he had lied to and betrayed her.

"It has been my experience that folks who have no vices have very few virtues." -- Abraham Lincoln.

Chapter 11.

As soon as Charles had returned from his trip, Damura entered his study and angrily tossed two datapads at him, not saying anything, studying his reaction.

They slapped on his desk loudly and he looked at them without activating them, then glanced up at her angry face. "What are these?"

"Proof of your lies," replied Damura.

He frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Read them," she said.

Charles did. On them were written testimonies she'd managed to download on the Nets from raid survivors, claiming to have been attacked by new Earther weapons and ships. Also on them were recordings Damura had made at the factories, once she'd pulled herself together from the initial shock.

"I honestly don't know what those are," Charles said, placing them back on the desk and looking directly at her. "I've never seen them before. And this is the first I've heard of any new or even renewed attacks."

"You're going to sit there ant tell me you know nothing, are you? Christ, Charles, give me a little more credit than that. They were made at your factories. You've lied to me already about what the Mentalities are being used for, don't lie to me again."

"I'm telling you the truth, Damura. I admit I lied to you before, but it is Earth Government who gives the orders to create the bodies, and they who supply the new designs. I had no idea they were ordered to make bodies as weapons." His stroked his chin absently. "But I must say, it is an ingenious idea."

Damura narrowed her eyes. "My people are dying out there. Tell me how that's ingenious, Charles?"

He picked up a datapad again and started indicating the design. "This shape is designed to allow them to move about in various surroundings, space or gas or air-current, which allows them increased manoeuvrability.

They can react well to any given situation, and those reactions are 100 times faster and 100 times more accurate than human ones. And they can't die because they aren't alive to begin with."

"I've communicated with them and I'm sure they are alive," she objected.

"Some have been frozen for centuries. There's no way they can still think the same way having been subjected to that realm, they cannot hold the same values we do. Everything human in them died when they were frozen."

"If they can think intelligently, then that should classify them as sentient, whether they've changed in body or mind or attitude or not."

"The mind is what allows a person to think, what gives him intelligence, but doesn't make a person. If they can think but are trapped without a body, without the means to live a life, are they truly alive or is it like a comatose state?"

"That's a contradiction to what you said earlier, isn't it?" she said.

"You wouldn't force a person in a coma to do this, and it doesn't excuse what they are being made to do now."

"Why not? If there is a war on, at least lives can be saved."

"Your lives, maybe. The Mentalities are so accurate they aren't saving lives, they're slaughtering them. My people don't have a goddamn chance.

How do you think I feel, Charles? I was responsible for freeing them in the first place, and now they're being used to hurt my people. How am I supposed to feel?"

"Look, Damura, if you hadn't freed them then someone else would have,"

Charles said, reaching forward to clasp one of her hands in his own. Their flesh touched and she hit him away from her.

"Don't touch me," Damura growled. "I came here with the hope that perhaps something was wrong, but now I find that it's true and that you're defending the butchery. How can you, Charles? You claim you're a man of peace yet you condone death? Can't you see the contradiction?"

With that she turned and walked away.

"Apathy is the glove into which evil slips its hand." -- Bodie Thoene.

Chapter 12.

Indifference was the Colonist's real enemy, Damura knew, and it was that which would lead to their inevitable destruction. The Earthers didn't care to look past what they were being told by whoever was in power, didn't care to believe a painful truth and instead condescended to a more pleasant lie. And because of this they'd forgotten that people were dying, lives and cities being destroyed.

They were so involved in their own lives that they did not care to truly question - or learn - anything. Their apathy would kill the Colonists because the Earthers would never be able to hear the true stories of death. They'd never be reminded that these were people, different but the same in spirit. The Colonists would be locked away forever in installations and prisons and the Earthers would never know, their attitudes would never change and their world would continue to be unenlightened.

It would take a miracle for peace now that an Earther victory (thanks to the use of the Mentalities) was all but assured. Damura didn't believe in miracles and had accepted the fact her people faced eventual extermination. What kept her going was the knowledge she would see none of it.

She floated in the zero-gravity inside a shuttle carrying the latest technology from Charles's factories, a shuttle she had 'borrowed' from Charles without his knowledge.

It sped far away from Earth, and now she was deep inside lightspeed, without a destination input, just speeding away from Humanity in any available direction.

She stretched as she finished her modifications to the Virtual Reality glasses. She planned to use these soon.

The shuttle was fitted with cryogenic stasis tubes much larger than the ones which had held the brains, which could freeze a person indefinitely to the point where time would have no real meaning for the body. She floated before one of these now; the tube glowed a light blue, indicating it was active and powering up. It would turn red when it was in use.

Damura wanted to separate herself from humanity and to stop the further risk of being used by Earth further. As time would have no meaning on the body, she would need neither food nor drink and could live indefinitely inside stasis, locked away from the world...

While inside the stasis tube her mind would still age even if her body would not, and she would use the VR glasses to stay in her home; her memories would be accessed and playing continuously like a moving picture, the modifications creating a mental feedback loop encasing her inside her mind forever, or until someone found her - which she suspected wouldn't ever happen - and brought her out of stasis and out of her mind.

It was rather ironic, really, that it was here she would probably spend the rest of her life. She no longer had a home and the simulated Air City was the closest link to her home and her past she had left. She felt comfortable and safe there.

It'd be a good place and a good time to die when her ship was finally destroyed by the tides of lightspeed that'd eventually degrade the shuttle's hull and eat into the interior, including her; not even cryogenic suspension could save a person from that.

Damura did not fear being separated from everything she had known, and she was prepared for her eventual death. She'd lost more in the space of a few days than she had in the time it'd taken for her to be imprisoned in the installation and rescued by Charles; then she had lost her freedom, now she had been robbed of her sense of morality and the hopes and dreams that had kept her going.

She looked around for a last time then opened the tube. Stripping off her clothes, Damura put her VR glasses on then she stepped in. It was freezing cold inside and she shivered involuntarily, goosebumps prickling over her body, but soon she knew she would feel none of that - or anything at all.

She closed the tube door and claustrophobia hit her immediately, but she forced the waves of panic down as she lay back into the holdings, waiting to be teleported into her mind, for her body to still.

Almost immediately (once the pressure of her body registered in the tube's holdings, the wires initiating the freezing prickled past her skin and into her body, and Damura winced at the momentary pain) the world flashed.

Her body was frozen and she was transported away. Air City exploded into view before her abruptly and she felt nothing of her outside body. Never would again, most probably.

The ghostly, eerie silence she had noticed before was still present, clinging to the buildings and places she used to frequent, like a living entity. This place would always be empty, she the sole inhabitant of this place inside her mind.

Damura's heart ached for Siwian as she looked around at the places they had been together in. They had been part of the same world once. She had loved him and she always would, and out of respect for that she had to leave. At least now he had his freedom and some kind of future, Charles would see to that.

But, in truth, she knew that to truly let go of her past she had to let go of him. It was the most painful thing she had ever done, and she had done it without saying goodbye.

Her mind, trapped in this past scenario, was her only reality now and here she could remember the good times they had shared, and in her mind relive them in this place where fantasies became reality.

Damura shook her head to clear her thoughts, then, freed from humanity in all its forms - from Earther and Colonist and Mentality -, twirled in her surroundings for a moment that was indeterminable from a fleeting second to a lasting infinity, embracing the recesses of her mind, as well as the accompanying loneliness.

A solitary tear rolled down her cheek as she realised, though this was not real, that she truly was home, even if it was and would always be empty of other life.

Perhaps this was the first step to accepting and embracing the Silence.

And to releasing her Pain.

The End.

To Be Continued in Mentality Duology 2 - Sailing the River of Blood.