(Year 3610, Month 9, Day 4, Hour 15 Minute 23)
Another day at the Combine. The parlays were actually pretty dull. I much preferred the down-time, when Lucius wasn’t in my head, and I was left to wander the station. I’d made a few friends amongst the Hreck. They were helpful, reliable and industrious. Yeah, kind of boring, too, but you can’t have everything.
The meeting had been going for a while when we heard a booming voice: “HEYHEY GUYS!”
“Hey hey Phil,” said Pftttrrrgmm. “I didn’t notice you were missing. Turn that down, will you?”
“Sorry, sorry. I’m not Phil, though. I’m Harry. Phil decayed yesterday.”
“Wait,” said Lucius-me, “what do you mean decayed?”
“Articulate particles don’t have a very long lifespan.”
“You mean…Phil is dead?”
“Hey, why the long face? All his information has been preserved through a few simple mass ejections. Well, not so simple. But if we couldn’t do that, we’d never have evolved.”
“Phil…” Lucius-me’s eyes welled up with tears. “I can’t believe he’s just…gone.”
I can’t believe that you’re using my body to cry over an annoying sub-atomic particle, I sighed.
“Well, he isn’t gone,” said Harry. “I mean, nothing is ever gone. Haven’t you ever heard of conservation laws? Phil’s still around somewhere. He’s just in a different form which probably makes it impossible ever to communicate with him again.”
“The Vent Lords weren’t kidding when they said the nau’gsh were sentimental,” said Phhhhhhhhhhhhhnnnv/SCD. “If you cry over decayed particles, you’ll spend your life in tears.”
“Phil was my friend,” sniffed Lucius-me.
“Yeah, if you ever want to spend a night with an overly emotional sod weeping into his beer, find a Nau’gsh,” said Hrrrrrrrrrrrgh. “It’s occasionally amusing.”
High Chancellor Matek Lopen *click* Bar Treven *click* Sanis Poltra *clickclick* snapped her mandibles angrily.
“She said that you’re mocking someone who has far greater depth and sensitivity than the average Advanced Sentient,” translated Thoughtful 45. She cites as an example this passage from the report of the Lords of the Inner Vent on the Nau’gsh: More than that, why did you make me capable of love? Why did you fashion me to fancy that fickle whore? I want to dash her head against the concrete and be covered by the rain of her shattered skull. I want to rip her heart out of her living body. And maybe deep-fry it. I want to consume her, become her, crawl under her flayed skin like Xipe Totec. But I can’t. I can’t because I love her too fucking much, and all I can do is wish for my own destruction.
The float-bladders of the three fish swelled so enormously, I feared that they would explode. Then in unison, they belched an enormous gas-cloud. “I’m sorry,” gasped Hrrrrrrrrrrrgh. “We can’t help it. That’s the funniest thing we’ve ever heard.”
High Chancellor Matek Lopen *click* Bar Treven *click* Sanis Poltra *clickclick* advanced on them in a flurry of hisses and clicks. It could only be described as a threatening approach.
“She says that species incapable of true feeling should show more respect.” The mantis-thing then turned to me. Up close, I could see that the mandibles were sharp, and covered with a thin coating of slime. She blinked her enormous, multifaced eyes and hiss-crooned at me.
“She says that you should relay this message to Lorcan – a proverb long considered to be the epitome of wisdom amongst her people: ‘You can’t have your mate and eat it too.’”
“Um, thanks. Tell her it’s much appreciated,” said Lucius-me as our stomach did an Immelman.
“You’re looking at in in the wrong way,” said Phhhhhhhhhhhhhnnnv/SCD. “If you want to see Phil, just go back in time to yesterday.”
“What?” gasped Lucius-me.
“It isn’t what you think,” said Thoughtful 45. “Occupying three dimensions of a four-dimensional space gives the illusion that something is lost. But it’s still there. Time-travel is just a means of recovering that experience. It’s like remembering, except that it’s possible to gather new information, to notice things that you didn’t the first time you lived it. But you can’t time-travel to a different place than when you were originally, nor can you visit a time before you existed.”
“My memory is perfect,” said Lucius-me. “I don’t need to gather information. It’s all there, from the molecular composition of this table to the distant flicker of the nebulae to the port side of this station.”
“Is he always this much of a show-off?” asked Harry.
“But time travel which revisits a past already lived is unacceptable,” said Lucius. “Nothing can be changed.”
“That much is obvious,” said Phhhhhhhhhhhhhnnnv/SCD, swishing his tail in annoyance.
“Then it’s futile. No growth is possible.”
“Poklok-kinniped would like to point out the speciocentric nature of that statement,” said Thoughtful. “Of course, a tree would preference growth. Personally, Poklok doesn’t see the point. Why not be satisfied with what is? Why not live in the eternal present?”
“Lucius, you don’t look well,” noted Phhhhhhhhhhhhhnnnv/SCD. You’re overreacting, and I think it’s because you’re exhausted. I should’ve noticed before. You’ve got projection-fatigue.”
“Projection-fatigue?”
“It’s common among those not used to long-distance telepathic projection. Look, the rest of this parlay is old business. It doesn’t pertain to you, and will probably bore you. You should just go home. You’ve had enough for your first time out. Thoughtful 45 can send you the minutes.”
“The next convocation is in approximately three decades,” said Thoughtful 45. “You’ll have a little time to practice projection between then and now.”
“Three decades? I’ll work on it. If you’re sure it’s all right with everyone…” Lucius-me lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry. This has been difficult for me. If it’s no trouble, I’d really like to get home to see my wife.”
Matek Lopen *click* Bar Treven *click* Sanis Poltra *clickclick* snapped her mandibles. “She says bon appetite.”