Deadshepherd (Tales of the Final Fall of Man Anthology Book 1) Page 4

  “Of course. With mortal races like the Six Species, and the so-called dumbler or alien races they share their space with, it is often vital that an oona’aki’Drednanth grow among them. She brings a new viewpoint, and learns to understand the flesh sphere even as they do, while an older Drednanth looking out at the galaxy through aki’Drednanth eyes will usually struggle to comprehend things in new ways. We have the perspective of ages, but also the stagnation and rigidity that comes with it.”

  “Still,” Oona said, “over so many years and so many extrusions into the flesh, you must have…” she paused, and the Myconet again gave an approving twist as she figured the answer out on her own. “You take flesh to teach oona’aki’Drednanth,” she said. “You don’t return them to the Drednanth and live the physical life you might earn by defeating your litter-mates.”

  “You are partly correct,” the Myconet said. “If an oona’aki’Drednanth body fails, it is rarely my doing. I do not, of course, spare her – let alone protect her. The arena of the physical sphere is brutal, and it would do you no favour to shelter you through it. However, when it comes to my own flesh … I have no great interest in preserving it longer than necessary, and remaining extruded into the sphere of the mortals. I usually fall to my litter-mates, and return to the Dreamscape,” she moved her fronds thoughtfully. “I believe I last lived a full aki’Drednanth life before Soldier’s Rose went supernova.”

  “Fifty million years ago.”

  “The galaxy has changed much in that time,” the Myconet said. “The Empire of Gold rose and the Riddlespawn burned it. The Castle raged and the Áea-folk cast its towers into the dust. The Time Destroyers broke the future and the past and the Vultures feasted upon their bones. The Damorakind came. And I find I am … no longer interested. It is enjoyable, perhaps, to experience the world outside the Dreamscape one more time, however briefly. To feel the rush of impulses and hormones through the flesh. But a stretch in the body of a pup is all I require. For me to give the flesh the attention it requires … is not comfortable.”

  Many of the truly ancient do not take flesh form, precisely because of this difficulty. To pour one’s mind into an aki’Drednanth brain was only truly possible up to a certain age and size. A single brain simply did not have the capacity to contain a mind hundreds of millions of years old, no matter how finely-crafted and perfectly-tailored it was to that mind. Only a fragment could extend into the mortal sphere, turning the flesh into a puppet – and a clumsy puppet, at that – rather than a suit.

  “It is like peering at something through a very tiny hole,” the Myconet explained. “The glimpses may be tantalising, but the temptation to simply turn around and look at the reality behind you is overwhelming.”

  The greatest discomfort for an ancient in the flesh was in the grey. And the Six Species, the Myconet said, loved to flit around in the grey. They were, collectively, in an enormous hurry to get nowhere in particular, and then back again.

  “We have remained sedentary while Nashoon hosts our flesh,” she told Oona, “allowing the rest of us to attend to our physical forms and allowing you to come to understand the interplay between the spheres without the disruption that comes from entering the third sphere the mortals call relative speed.”

  “It severs the connection to the Great Ice,” Oona said, remembering. “But you said it was a matter of waiting, and that the connection returns as soon as our flesh emerges from the grey.”

  “This is true,” the Myconet said, “and for younger Drednanth, whose minds fit comfortably within the lattice of their flesh, it is a simple matter of withdrawal into the lone brain. Being unable to withdraw whole into the flesh, however, creates an unpleasant sensation of … well, live long enough and you will see,” she concluded – a little grumpily, in Oona’s opinion. “The flesh form remains aware in her stunted fashion, just not aware of her wider self. And the dream form remains in the Dreamscape, but is blinded and crippled and unable to interact with the whole until she is restored to full function. It is acutely unpleasant, its only redeeming feature being that it is temporary. I am not aware of any way a Drednanth can be trapped in the grey – if nothing else, the failure of her body will return her to the Dreamscape, and wholeness.”

  “And before the full independence of your physical form, when you are gestating, such a disconnection can be dangerous,” Oona said, again reciting what she had been taught.

  “Only dangerous as far as its ruinous effect on our formation of the flesh,” the Myconet replied. “With ancients, the severing of brain and Great Ice can be permanent if it occurs during gestation, the required concentration lost. The flesh becomes unviable. Sometimes the result is additional oona’aki’Drednanth in the litter. More often, the pup is born with a broken reflection of the mind she was meant to represent, unable to reconnect to the originator in the Dreamscape, and so relegated to Níf on her return – which is usually swift, at the hands of her litter-mates. Or, the body is simply a dead shell, shed from the womb, usually along with the rest of the litter,” this line of discussion seemed to have thrown the Myconet into a grim humour. “Flesh is weak.”

  “I was going to ask if two Drednanth – the one controlling the host, and one forming new flesh within her – had ever come to an arrangement, prior to the assumption of the gestation. An agreement to send the host aki’Drednanth into the grey at an agreed time, weeding out a number of rivals from the litter. But from what you’re telling me, it seems as though the risk of total failure – the risk to the entire litter – is too great.”

  “You have a disturbingly analytical mind,” the Myconet congratulated her. “Yes, the risk is great – and arrangements such as you suggest, between newborn and host, are considered … vile, in varying degrees. It is rarely done, and never meets with approval from the greater Drednanth, and those responsible often lose the right to regain the flesh.”

  “As with the cooperation between Marashka and Thraal,” Oona said.

  “Similar.”

  “Can you not withdraw in the other direction?” Oona asked instead. “Retract into the Dreamscape, into the Great Ice, and wait there as Drednanth until your flesh returns from the grey?”

  “Some Drednanth can do this,” the Myconet replied, “but very few. For most of us, to retract our entire minds by force from our flesh brains, and to re-enter the Dreamscape … well, it is precisely the same as returning, is it not? The flesh fails and it is not possible to reacquire it – not in the mortal sphere and certainly not in the grey.”

  “But some Drednanth can?”

  “Some,” the Myconet replied. “Some Drednanth, when they take a physical form, are able to place it into a deep slumber, and withdraw entirely into the Dreamscape. They leave a spark behind, but it is beyond my understanding. It lights the brain as a beacon, allowing them to find it again and pour their awareness back into it, rather than the conduit you and I understand. In this way, I have seen, they can remain in the Dreamscape and commune with the Drednanth, while their bodies are somewhere in the grey. Of course,” she went on, “it is a slumber only. An aki’Drednanth body may last weeks, or even months, in this state, but it still requires sustenance and interchange. And the mind cannot find the brainspark while the body is in the grey – only when it emerges. If it emerges too late, the body will have perished and the spark will have gone, making the Drednanth’s return to the Dreamscape permanent, at least for the lifetime of that flesh. The Drednanth has traded escape from the mild discomfort of separation from the Dreamscape, for the continued existence of her physical form. It is widely considered a pointless skill.”

  “So why do it?” Oona asked. “Pour part of yourself back into the flesh at all, I mean. Why do you join litters? Can you not teach oona’aki’Drednanth just as effectively while remaining entirely within the Great Ice?”

  “I can,” the Myconet said, “and I occasionally do. But there is a different feel to it, when two Drednanth are litter-mates, becoming aki’Drednanth together. An intera
ction that mirrors the interjoined flesh from which our bodies are emerging. It is an important distinction.”

  “I have not encountered any outsiders,” Oona admitted. “Drednanth from outside our litter. I have not even met Nashoon, or Arberus who provided the other half of the genetic code to begin our gestation.”

  “No,” the Myconet said, “such interaction from outsiders is not common. It is a distraction, particularly for oona’aki’Drednanth. You are to step into your life with as little interference as possible,” the mushroom twisted. “As to why I persist in joining litters,” she went on, “there is more to it than the connection we share as a result of my investment. I believe that our kind are still organisms at heart. We cannot be simply Drednanth. We must be aki’Drednanth. There must be a connection, a communion between the Dreamscape and the mortal sphere. We did not come this far, and learn so much, to become minds frozen in ice.”

  “If Nashoon’s body were to enter the grey now…”

  The Myconet seemed amused. “Our bodies would probably be fine, although I would be very distracted. Roar, Memory-of-Ages and Mother-of-Angels, possibly even Fallen Worlds would be likewise disadvantaged, and I have no doubt our younger sisters would take advantage of it. But we are close enough to independence, I think, that it would be merely unpleasant for me – it would not ruin my physical brain.”

  “What about your presence in my dream?” she gestured at the mushroom.

  “I would remain,” the Myconet said. “As a small representative piece, at least until we returned to the physical sphere and I was reunited with my dream self. The one redeeming feature of the grey is that physical things cannot indefinitely stay there.”

  “I am pleased you would remain,” Oona said. “My Dreamscape would be rather boring without you.”

  “I am sure you will redecorate, in time,” the Myconet replied, still amused. Then she paused for a long while, musing about something – or perhaps, Oona thought, feeding great sluggish memories of bygone millennia into her pseudopod from the depths of her true Drednanth self. “Sometimes,” she continued, “it is possible for one, perhaps even two or three Drednanth, to inhabit the brain of an aki’Drednanth adult even as their flesh forms gestate in her body. The accompanying requirements on the mind – on all minds involved – are extreme, and dangerous. But it is possible for a mother bringing new bodies into the world to also host the Drednanth, whole. Or mostly whole. An aki’Drednanth brain can contain a great deal … just not the entirety of a true ancient such as terrible old me.”

  “Has this happened before?” Oona asked, fascinated.

  “Several times,” the Myconet replied. “Sometimes by accident, sometimes by various necessity. The universe is old, little sister. Most things have happened before.”

  “And what was the result?”

  “It has happened enough times for most outcomes to unfold,” the Myconet said, but seemed to accept that this was teasing. “It can work,” she said, “given the right hosting brain, and the right Drednanth being hosted. New minds, such as yours, would be little challenge. An aki’Drednanth could carry fifteen oona’aki’Drednanth into the grey, allowing them to build their Dreamscapes inside her brain. When she returned to the mortal sphere, the dreams would unfold into the Dreamscape.”

  “But whole litters of oona’aki’Drednanth are not common.”

  “Not at all. I have seen a litter of three pups, none of them oona’aki’Drednanth, successfully gestated and born in complete isolation from the greater Dreamscape. When she contains the gestating Drednanth within her own brain, the host aki’Drednanth can go into the grey, or any other environment that is hostile to Drednanth communion.”

  “What other such environments are there?” Oona said, then answered before the Myconet could do so. “Many,” she said wryly. “The universe is big.”

  “You are wise for one so young. You must have an exceptional mentor.”

  “The host is essentially acting like a Great Ice in miniature,” Oona said, “is she not? Containing the Drednanth and allowing them to withdraw themselves completely into her lattice when they enter the grey, since they currently have no lattice of their own in the physical sphere.”

  “Yes – broadly speaking,” the Myconet replied. “The Drednanth can then pour themselves into their new flesh and their new brains as they grow, departing from their host and taking on their own forms. Once housed in their own brains, they can once again extrude into the Great Ice.”

  “Assuming they are out of the grey by then,” Oona said.

  “Well, yes,” the Myconet said. “Of course, if they do depart from the grey, they could leave the host’s brain altogether and gestate safely and comfortably from their own Dreamscapes.”

  “What if they stayed in the grey?” Oona asked. “Or in one of the other environments you suggested might exist?”

  “Then they would remain trapped inside their own brains,” the Myconet said.

  “Like mortals.”

  “Almost. Not entirely. There are alternatives. The other aki’Drednanth present may again host, although as a mind ages it occupies more dream-space and it rapidly becomes uncomfortable, and then dangerous. As I said, to host multiple minds within a brain constructed purely to house one’s own dream … it is a delicate and risky venture.”

  “What other alternatives are there, for Drednanth trapped in aki’Drednanth brains and cut off from the Great Ice?”

  “I can’t imagine why you are asking,” the Myconet again sounded grumpy, although this time Oona was fairly sure she was only pretending.

  “You’ve said many times that the universe is old, that it is big, that it is filled with mysteries,” Oona said. “In the face of that, our Drednanth selves seem little more robust than our aki’Drednanth bodies. The Great Ice is vast, and has endured for half a billion years, but it is immobile. An aki’Drednanth body is small, with limited capacity and terrible fragility, but she is mobile and adaptable.”

  The tiny Myconet curled her translucent, filament-thin tendrils slowly. “Go on.”

  “In a universe that is defined by the unknown, is it not a mistake to assume the Great Ice is inviolate and the Dreamscape is eternal?” Oona asked. “Already you tell me of spheres like the grey, into which we cannot venture without losing our communion with our greater selves and the rest of our kind –those of us of great age and size, at least, cannot venture whole into these places, and we cannot by our natures limit the growth of our minds. Should we not be exploring every method we can to escape our dependence on something so vast and unwieldy as the Ice? Would you not condense yourself into a more compact and adaptable form, if it meant you could avoid all the discomforts and disconnections of your current widely-distributed whole?”

  “Perhaps,” the Myconet allowed, “although I freely concede it is too late for me. I am content to be what I am, and should the Great Ice perish – I have been told that another galaxy will collide with our own in another three or four billion years, and the accompanying gravitational disturbances and energy release will destroy the constructs within the Ice – I feel content to perish with it. If some small parts of me survive as parasites within the newborns I have guided into this world … that would be acceptable,” she twisted again. “Of course, it is entirely likely that I will change my mind in the interim. Three billion years is a long time.”

  “But there are ways to persist, and to grow,” Oona insisted, “while stuck in a sphere such as the grey.”

  “Yes,” the Myconet admitted. “The wayfarers might construct new Ice for themselves. Some of the old starships of the Damorakind contained cores of Ice that allowed small groups of our kind, taken and bred in bondage, to exist independently of the Great Ice for many centuries, when they would not normally have been able to comfortably or wholly coexist in one another’s brains. These ships could spend generations flying in the grey, and the shipborne populations could even breed – albeit only producing oona’aki’Drednanth, at least until the p
revious generation returned to the Dreamscape and considered reacquiring flesh – all for the purposes of Damorakind science.”

  “This would be a way to bypass the selection and waiting periods endured by Drednanth in the Great Ice,” Oona suggested.

  “In the short term, yes,” the Myconet replied. “The practice was upheld for mere centuries, however – and only as something the Damorakind were interested in trying, and we were interested in allowing them to try. Its applications, as you say, may have extended beyond the Damorakind’s perception. We do not, however, make a practice of such bypassing of convention. There are always exceptions, and there is always room for questioning voices – this is one of the things we most value about oona’aki’Drednanth such as you – but for the most part the Drednanth are unified in purpose and outlook. We took part in the creation and experimentation that led to the construction of the mobile Lesser Ice formations of the Damorakind, in the same spirit of scientific enquiry as that expressed by the Damorakind themselves.”

  “New Ice can be made to bear our Dreamscapes,” Oona concluded. “What else?”

  “There have been other artifacts,” the Myconet said, “created by the hands of mortals or of immortals, capable of housing–”

  “What immortals?”

  The Myconet was amused by this eager interruption. “We are not the only beings to stride the lonesome paths of the permanent,” she said. “Perhaps one day, you shall see. Perhaps one day, you will meet the immortals we serve. The immortals we failed.”

  Shortly after this, and without any real change in Oona’s Dreamscape existence, the litter was born.

  VII

  When it happened, it was without any noticeable shift in the quality of her Dreamscape. A sluggish swell of sensations and impulses fed through from her flesh-side and Oona quickly brought her full attention to bear on the little body as it emerged into the dry open air.