Chapter 54: Isolation

  ADMINISTRATOR POV

  I felt a little bad for Tastka as I sat up and ran my fingers through my hair. It hadn’t really occurred to me that she’d had these visions since childhood, and normal dreams weren’t a thing to her. In tightening the connection so that the bleed through was more controlled, I’d cut her off from what must have felt like constant companionship.

  She couldn’t know that the unusual silence wasn’t permanent. We’d tightened the connection up, so ‘noise’ was filtered out, but I couldn’t cut it off completely without editing the Soulkeeper class itself and fundamentally changing how it worked.

  Which… I could do, but if I was honest with myself, the whole result of my mucking around – even if risky – was utterly fascinating. Also, it would be pretty messy to start editing these classes on the fly. The dragons were probably already confused about the Soulkeeper class, and if it started getting changed wildly they might start asking more questions than they already were. They were pretty sharp.

  “I should be finished with the calculations shortly,” Diamon announced, seeing that I’d awakened again. “Afterward, I will take my leave. As you pointed out, I have my own universe to attend to, and leaving it running slow for too long will hurt the Cluster’s energy output.”

  That was the first time I’d heard about that. It also… didn’t make sense to me. I’d been thinking about this and now pounced on the chance to ask about it.

  “Diamon,” I started, choosing my words carefully. “As I understand it, we aren’t in a universe, we’re… I guess ‘outside’ of it. How does time flow? Wouldn’t we be defined by the time flowing in our universes? Or are we in a universe of our own looking out or… in toward others?”

  The mammoth-thing turned slightly before snorting at me. A scroll of paper began to unroll from midair, guided by his middle trunk. “The answer to those questions is complex. Even I do not know the full scope of it.”

  The scroll finished tumbling down, and he used his two side-trunks to roll it up while he continued speaking. “From what I understand we are not a place nor a time. We are a series of events, which are – as you surmise – causally linked to events inside a universe, where time exists. When you alter the flow of time within your universe, you are actually adjusting the gap between events tied to your universe.”

  He waved his trunk in the air, then handed me the scroll. “How these events interrelate to one another – thus allowing us to interact – I do not know. Nor do I understand how we can interact before time has started in your universe.”

  I took the scroll, and he explained, “Here are the calculations to achieve the light reflection without unwanted side effects.”

  “Thanks,” I answered – and meant it. I placed the scroll on my work desk, then tried to smile at Diamon. My lips did twitch, but an elf ‘smile’ was more like a vicious baring of teeth, so my body translated it once again to a perk of the ears. “Got just a little more time for a couple quick questions?”

  Diamon’s trunk waved again, an indication of casual acceptance. “Certainly. Despite our disagreements, it has been fascinating working with you, Crown. I am eager to see if you prove me wrong.”

  I chuckled back, “Thanks… I think.” Then I unrolled the scroll and looked it over absently while I talked.

  “How did Orpheus end up taking over? Did the previous High Administrator die? And… how?” This had been nagging at me, because while I was starting to suspect the threat of being recycled wasn’t a threat any more, something had happened to the previous boss.

  To my dismay, he grunted, “Orpheus was the most qualified to take over when the previous High Administrator vanished. None of us know why, but a large number of incursions happened at that point. Orpheus took control as the only one who knew how to catalogue and guide others in maintaining the existing universes.”

  Diamon’s head dipped sadly. “The High Administrator has attempted to ascertain the fate of our previous High Administrator many times, but each time failed. Each time, the Orpheus Cluster must shed more universes, and becomes less than it was.”

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  Now that is the first time I’d heard anything about this. I stared for a moment. “So… universes are… dying?”

  “All universes die eventually,” Diamon countered, his trunk dipping. “But you are referring to them dying before their time? No, not precisely. They are more… altered beyond our understanding. A universe too different than its neighbors drifts into a more appropriate Cluster.”

  My tail was swaying low to the ground, annoyance showing in both ears and posture now. “You know, this whole lack of telling everything is really detrimental to me working my best.” I gestured vaguely toward my desk. “You all do realize if you’d been up front with me about the danger and the reasons for needing diversity and a half dozen other things, I probably would have worked faster and with more purpose?”

  I made a grunt of frustration, but in my elven body the noise came out sounding more like a whine. “For that matter, if you didn’t pull that shit, a lot of your failures might actually work out.”

  “We have tried being more open,” Diamon countered. “As I said before. The current method has been standardized for this group of new Administrators. If it proves less successful, then the procedure will be altered.”

  I rubbed my temples, only vaguely realizing that Tastka and I shared that gesture of frustration. “Right, I remember she said it was random, too. This is insane.”

  I could deal with celestial bureaucracy. That’s what I’d thought this was. Instead I realized it was a desperate gamble by people who had inherited a job they knew nothing about, trying to patch the problems created by invasive universes literally rewriting reality.

  I almost snapped at Diamon again, but I caught myself. He was doing his best, just like me, and he’d helped me out with a problem or three. Instead, I centered myself with a long breath, and said one final thing to him.

  “I hope your universe goes well.” I opened my interface and started scrolling through the Sanctuary menu while I was talking. “I appreciate the help, Diamon. Really, I do. But one bit of advice? Don’t forget you’re working with people. We have to make tough decisions, I get that… but you shouldn’t forget what those decisions do. For them, that life is all they know.”

  The mammoth stared at me for a long moment. His voice, when he spoke, was even and formal. “I will consider it. My advice to you, should you care about them so much… increase your generation. If you can provide us with a surplus of energy, I will show you how to make a local afterlife.”

  Diamon shuffled to the door, opening it and stepping through. Unlike with Orpheus, I caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a wide open plain with tall grasses… very different from my own Sanctuary. I couldn’t see what else was there before the door shut, and Diamon was gone.

  Time to get to work.

  I would apply the changes he suggested later. For now, I had some preparation to do. “So, looks like I need to talk to Orpheus. But instead of summoning her, why don’t I get her attention…?”

  Drumming fingers on my desk, I looked through the Sanctuary options and found what I wanted. Cheap, as most mundane items were, so nothing to worry about there. I mounted the full-length mirror on the wall of my room, then took a breath again, just to focus myself.

  I knew where Tastka was going, and I knew roughly what was in her way. I had no guarantee she’d survive the journey, but… I did know how to make it easier on her and her friends, now. And as it works out, making it easier on them also makes it much more interesting.

  And making life interesting makes it profitable, doesn’t it?

  I was acting on emotion, I knew. Even with the muted emotions of my Sanctuary body, I was pretty angry now. It had all come together in my head. I’d been pulled into a multiversal war on the side of some incompetent–

  No, no. This wasn’t normal. Spending so much time in an organic body had made me emotional. I didn’t feel the anger as much as I thought, I just thought I should be angry so I was. I didn’t know the whole story, even now. I could lecture Orpheus later.

  Calming myself didn’t take but a few moments. I could still feel that spark of frustration and anger inside me, but it was distant. Back to normal, I resumed my plan here and stepped in front of the mirror.

  Unsurprisingly, I looked a lot like Tastka. My figure was just slightly older than her own, with a bit more softness and curves, but recognizably her. Well, I noted it was curvier, but not by much. Elves were just… slim by nature.

  It was the first time I’d looked at myself. Even when I was ‘human’ in shape, I hadn’t gotten a look at my own body. Now, it was Tastka’s. I belatedly realized I was wearing a tunic-style outfit as well – something I had known but not thought about until now – and adjusted the beige-colored, unnaturally smooth garment.

  Tastka’s clan didn’t have a nudity taboo, but at least they wore clothes. Not that I’d have really cared if they didn’t, but I knew logically the old me might have cared. Then again, my original self apparently had a type that might have made the elves curvier. That would have been awkward to explain to Diamon.

  I watched the ears twitch a few times while I thought, and then they tilted down in an elfin frown. My ‘elves’ weren’t really all that elf-like, were they? Oh well. They filled the role of ‘eldest species’ so it would have to do.

  “Might as well get this over with,” I muttered to myself. Tastka wouldn’t remember as much from the Sanctuary, but given time it would still leak through… unless I deliberately ‘released the pressure’ like I was about to do.

  Looking directly at the mirror, tail swaying lazily, I loosened my grip on the tether back to my avatar… and began to speak.

  “You probably have questions, don’t you?”

  A Bridge Too Far