At Least I Bring You Hope

Posted on Sun 2nd Dec, 2018 @ 7:52pm by Lieutenant Colonel Brooklyn Wellington & Commander Jasmine Collins-Keller & Commander Paul Graves PsyD & Lieutenant Commander Alora Baro & Khellian s'Siedhri MD & Makila i'Hartelhai

1,852 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: Oblivion
Location: Warehouse 13, Cargo Space 780
Timeline: MD 21, 2315

Previously on Starbase 109:

"People experience time in a linear fashion," the hag continued after a moment, once the new arrivals were settled. "Tuesday is always followed by Wednesday, and so on. We number our years consecutively. Many of us believe that the very nature of time is linear. It is not. It's more of a 'Jeremy Bearimy' situation, a room full of yarn into which ferrets have been released. Time crosses itself, loops around, gets knotted. I'm here to ask your help in untangling a knot which may become quite troublesome, if left unaddressed."

A question rose in Damion's mind. He told himself to keep quiet, but it niggled at him. At last he raised a hand. "Presuming all that happened as you say, Ma'am--and I believe it did--then how do you know of it? Should you not be as ignorant as the rest of us?"

"I am a witch, young man," the hag answered. "It's what I do. I brew potions, I heal children, and I know things."

And now, the continuation:

The old woman coughed, a dry, racking cough that sounded like it hurt. "We draw nigh the end," she said. "When you must decide if helping is worth the cost."

Hesitantly, odd for Caroline Post, she raised her hand for the woman's attention. "I'm a little confused here. It sounds as if these ... Echoes, I think you called them? Yes, Echoes, have already fixed whatever they perceived as wrong, if any of this happened in the real world. So what is there to help?"

In his seat, Damion nodded to himself and relaxed.

"The Echos believe that they know all they need to know," Great-Grandmother Addams said with an approving nod at the reporter. "But knowledge and wisdom are different things. Intellectually, they are vast and powerful. Emotionally, they are a group of eight to ten year old children. They have created a pocket reality for themselves, drawn the boundaries in on themselves. Eventually, however, they will emerge. Who will they be when they do? Consider the example of Charles Evans: a human child shipwrecked on a planet of non-corporeal entities, he learned various skills from them, but not the maturity to temper them. In a way, the Echos are the same."

"Charles Evans... That name seems familiar," Lanis muttered.

"Kid with more power than he knew how to use responsibly," Paul whispered back. "I'll tell you the story later."

"Great," Wellington mumbled to Beck who was sitting next to her with her arms crossed. "In other words we may soon have some spoiled, undisciplined brats running around who think they know it all. Also known as teenagers."

"I love teenagers," Beck quipped. "They're so tasty in the afternoon."

"Powerful teenagers..." Baro said concerned, she'd heard the story of Charlie Evans at the Academy. A sort of warning tale it was about the cost of the unknown on minds ill equipped to handle it. "What do we need to do?" She asked the Witch -- politely, of course; her mother raised no fool.

"And what are we gathered here to accomplish?" Paul asked.

Jasmine kept quiet and listened. Her own past had been 'rewound' for her. It was the reason that she couldn't be in a crowded room without Oscar or Adam. It was the reason she had blanks when she tried remembering some memories of her past. She understood exactly how the threads of the past could tangle and knot, each in their own way. She wasn't as sure of the story the old woman told, but she was beginning to wonder if this story might have a tie to Chlamydia's odd behavior when Jasmine would have her prenatal checks. She gave Adam's hand a squeeze as she listened to the story with concern for her friend and doctor.

The eldest Addams nodded. "You comprehend the problem, and now, we move on to the... or at least, a... solution. One of the Echos must grow to maturity without this tremendous and terrible power. One of them must learn what it means to be mortal, to live life, to love, to hate, to be joyous and infuriated, rewarded and frustrated. I suggest that it should be the one whose mother cries when she remembers her child.

"To that end," the hag went on, "we must reach out to the Echos. They have cut themselves off in a valley of their own making. I have tried, but I cannot reach them alone. I need help. This..." she indicated the drawing chalked on the floor "is a sort of spiritual parabolic dish. And if you agree to help, you will be a signal amplifier.

"But be warned! The journey is not without risk. Things there are, which dwell in the darkness, and are hungry. And the Echos may not regard visitors warmly." She looked around again, gauging reaction.

"Well, no," Damion agreed under his breath, "since they withdrew to this other place to avoid visitors." He glanced at Elizabeth. "I'm willing. Rather like having to knock sense into people at home. And...I've dealt with hungry things in the darkness. What do you think?"

Slowly, Anderson said, "I think we need to be very careful. If these children are already so powerful, what's to keep them from lashing out in anger and doing a lot of damage, not only to those in this room, but to others. I ... I hope this woman has put a lot of thought into what she's asking, a lot of preventative thought."

Makila tucked her fingers into her father's hand and squeezed softly to get his attention upon her. "Why is there so much anger and confusion in the room?"

"I do not know, I cannot sense that the way you do. However I gather if we listen we might figure out the reason," Khellian replied in a voice so quiet only if you would hear. He did not wish to interrupt the witch.

Elizabeth stood to draw the woman's attention. "Dr. Elizabeth Anderson, Ma'am. Would you provide a more detailed warning than 'there are things that go bump in the night' and 'they might not be happy to see us'? It sounds as if what you're asking of those in the room is very risky, and I believe everyone should know exactly how risky, and exactly what the risks are, what might happen if things go wrong.

"I don't mean to be rude, but we don't know you. Can we trust you? I don't know. Do you know what you're doing? I don't know. I'm not even sure how to find out." She remained standing to face whatever anger her remarks might engender in the old woman, for she sensed the witch might have little patience with being questioned.

Ischemia opened her mouth indignantly to defend her great-grandmother, forgetting that it hadn't been so long ago that she'd wondered those same things. Instantly, the woman next to her was simply the great-grandmother she'd grown up knowing, an Addams. She sensed in Purulence the same reaction, but before either of them could do more than step closer and draw breath, the old woman touched her arm gently.

"Those are reasonable questions," the old woman said. "I am Dawn Addams, eldest of my Family. You do not know me, but you know my descendants." She gestured to her great-granddaughters standing near her. "Ask yourself if you trust them. If you do, I request your forbearance about me; I request the benefit of your doubt.

"As for your other questions, let me see. Do I know what I am doing? Yes, though the law of unintended consequences will no doubt stick its grubby finger on the scales. Can I tell you more about the nature of what we face? Not as such... Human minds do not handle the fullness of what lies beyond... why, most of you have barely begun to suspect that Chlamydia's Thing is more than it appears." The old woman laughed, and it turned into a cough.

When she had recovered, she went on, "What are the risks? You might cease to exist. You might cease to ever have existed. You might lose memories of this timeline. You might lose parts of your personality. I do not expect any of these things to happen, but they are within the realm of possibility."

"And the one who's mother cries when she remembers her child? Is this the only person who must endure this or will she be accompanied?" Jasmine asked. She felt almost sure this was Chlamydia the woman was talking about and some child that had been lost somewhere or sometime. Chlamydia was her friend and had delivered her child not six months before. Jasmine would do anything in her power to help Chlamydia if that's who the woman was talking about.

"Chlamydia will not be accompanying us," the hag answered.

Paul studied the elderly woman. She was not easy to read--not impossible, as a Dopterian or a Ferengi would be, but not easy, either, as if she had some degree of her own psionic abilities. Shielding, that was it, he thought. She seemed shielded. It made sense to him that someone who could do what she claimed she could would use the ability to shield her mind, if she had it. He glanced at the Bajoran beside him. "That cough, Lanis."

"I hear it," the Bajoran said.

"Earth has old magickal traditions. I'm concerned about her."

"I'll ask her to come see me when this is over," Lanis replied.

"No, you don't understand." But Paul thought more and decided not to pursue the matter. The Addams matriarch was the witch here, not he. If anyone knew what was necessary for this ritual to succeed, she would, and she would have accepted the possible consequences. Paul let out an unhappy sigh and hoped his concerns were unfounded.

Alora observed the whole conversation. This was a bit beyond her but in a way it wasn't, she believed in beings of light called the Prophets who watched and guided Bajor after all. Well the fact they had ample proof helped but that didn't mean there weren't times were a leap of faith wasn't required. Though she was well aware there were aspects she wasn't understanding, perhaps because she did not hold any psionic ability that she was aware of. "What protections can we take or will that be entirely on your part Ma'am?" Baro asked the Witch respectfully as she wondered if it would be rude to ask if she could record it by turning on the tricorder, currently off, on her belt.

"Most of the risk will be mine," Grandmama Addams answered. "If this is the parabolic dish, then I am the signal and the sender. If you agree to participate, you will be amplifier circuits, outside the actual broadcast. You will see what I see, perceive it as best your mind will handle, and only in the very worst case -- my own destruction -- will any harm come to you."

 

RSS Feed