[CAL & NYLA: 1st day of the 3rd Veth of Jot, year 327 | HSSD: 26MAY4735]

The days following her sudden awakening in the home of Cal and Artie were days of wonder for Nyla. She spoke at length with Cal and Artie both, learning about them. The most shocking thing had been to learn that Artie was not actually a sentient being, he was an artificial intelligence  Cal’s people had created. 

The information she had gathered could be summarized fairly simply. Firstly, Cal was a human. Humanity first left their planet long before any kind of history was tracked by Nyla’s people. Humanity’s technologies were so far ahead of anything Nyla had even heard of–she had mostly given up on trying to understand it. Artie was one such technology. How a people, even one as advanced as Humanity, could create such a being as Artie, confounded Nyla. 

Lastly, Nyla knew her time with Cal and Artie was coming to an end. Using the superior technology and medicine of Humanity, Cal managed not only to allow Nyla relatively pain-free healing but with minimal damage or scarring. 

After what seemed like her millionth checkup, Nyla stood bare-chested in front of the mirror and commented on the efficiency of the medicine, “You could be very wealthy–have all that you ever desired.” Nyla said, running her fingers along the thin lines of scaring that slashed across her chest, “Had I not just been left to die by my people, I would have lost my breasts. I would never have been able to mother my children properly. This would make you a very powerful man here if you wanted, Cal.” 

Cal shrugged, “I guess, but that’s not really what I want, and… well, suffice it to say that is not what I want.” Cal finished the statement by stepping up behind Nyla to help wrap a bandage soaked in nanotech, being careful not to touch her inappropriately. 

Nyla looked in the mirror at Cal’s face. She grabbed his hand, placing it on her breast with a clearly non-medicinal purpose, “A man with abilities and technologies such as yours could have whatever he wanted...could have whoever he wanted.” She pressed Cal’s hand to her breast with clear intent. 

Cal looked at her in the mirror, his alien face still unreadable to Nyla. He gently pulled his hand away from her chest. To Nyla, the gentle force he had applied to remove his hand felt like an unstoppable wall of strength. All her effort to keep his hand there fell away. It was as if they were a blade of grass standing against the spring storm wall. 

“Nyla,” Cal started as he continued to wrap the bandage with cold and clinical purpose, “I appreciate what you are saying, and what you are trying to do. And I can even understand you might feel like you owe me something for helping you, but you don’t. Humans in general–not just me–tend to help when and where they can. Even if they shouldn’t, so there is no obligation.” 

“But don’t your people fight?” Nyla said, not understanding why he would not take what was rightfully his according to her people's ways, “Don’t they lust? Don’t you seek something for the good things you have done?” 

“Yes, we do.” Cal said patiently, finishing the wrapping of the bandage, “We are probably more lustful, violent, loving, and warlike than you could possibly understand. But we have as a species agreed that our involvement and influence with lesser evolved races needs to remain minimal. I am violating that agreement slightly by helping you, but I could not just watch you die.”

That stopped Nyla cold. Cal was violating his people's rules to help her. She still felt she owed him for saving her, and she had little else of any value other than her body, “What can I do to repay you then?”

“You do not need to repay me.” Cal said. “You owe me nothing. But if you really want to do something, you can tell me your story, explain what happened that led you to want to die.” Cal knew that this would be rather personal, but he hoped it would make Nyla feel as if she had paid her debt–without using her body as a currency.

“I can tell you that, but it is not a very interesting or complex story.” Nyla said and reached into the bundle of clothing remaining from the things she had worn when she was attacked. She pulled free a sphere, smaller than the metal sphere in her memory. She closed her eyes and focused. A moment later the sphere expanded in size. 

“A Boyn-Ball.” Cal said with a smile, waving his hand and the ball zipped over to him. With seemingly almost zero effort, Cal stared at the ball and it changed its shape to a cube and then back to a sphere, “You can find these everywhere.” 

Cal looked away from the sphere to see the dismay on her face, “What’s wrong Nyla?” Cal was immediately concerned. 

“These spheres can be found everywhere?” Nyla asked, and she began crying. She explained that many of the tribes thought the Boyn-Balls were holy relics of the Gods, “Because these spheres are considered holy if someone is capable of using one they are considered a Priestess. Many of the higher-ranked tribes covet Priestesses and will wipe lower-ranked tribes out to acquire even one more priestess.”

“Is it only females that are able to use the spheres?” Cal asked and Nyla nodded. “Well, that would make sense. Women tend to develop psychic abilities first in any race. See, the Boyn-Balls are a psychic-reactive material, so those with psychic abilities are able to change the shape to some degree. The greater your ability the greater the change in the shape and ability to control that shape change.” 

As Cal spoke, he illustrated the point. First, he performed the simple cube shape he had done earlier. Then his brow furrowed, and Nyla could almost feel the wave of energy roll off of him as the cube became a shape with many sides that seemed to infinitely be folding in on itself. Nyla stared at it, trying to grasp what it was, only for it to snap back into a simple sphere. 

“The spheres,” Cal said holding the sphere out to Nyla, “ are the mark of a dying race. In an act of desperation, the alien race known as the Boynic sent out trillions upon trillions of these, hoping they would spark contact with another psychic species who might be able to help them with the issues they were facing at the time. But all they found was humanity. And as I understand it, we did what we could but we were unable to prevent their fall from history.” 

Nyla got the strange sense Cal was being evasive about something, but it was her story that was supposed to be told here, so she ignored it, “Well, regardless. As you can see, I have minimal ability with the holy spheres, and because of my pathetic ability, my tribe was almost entirely wiped out. Only myself and the three strongest warriors were spared. I was trained to use the spheres and told my duty was to provide the tribe with as many divine children as possible. I was passed from one single man to the next in the hope I would bear a child.” 

Cal could see Nyla was doing her best to keep it together, so he simply listened, letting her have a moment. After composing herself, Nyla continued, “After that, and after I learned I would be imprisoned for the rest of my life serving the same purpose, I decided it was better to sneak out and die on my own terms rather than to simply live as they would allow.” 

Cal paused before he spoke, “Well, I can respect that. I do have to ask, what kind of life do you think you will have now? If you come back bearing the mark of the Hilvorn beast, do you think you could have any semblance of a normal life?”

Nyla thought about this for a moment, “Probably not. In order to sneak away, I had to poison one of the guards watching over the other prisoners and me. Even if they did forgive that, they would never believe I had been injured and healed in only a few short days.” 

“That is fair.” Cal said as he thoughtfully rubbed his chin, “Those rules I mentioned I was breaking? Not to interfere? I am trying to find a way for you to go back to your life without more intervention from me.” 

Nyla understood. As much as she wanted nothing more than to remain with Cal and Artie, she figured it would come to an end sooner rather than later. Only one thought permeated her mind, “I’ll miss you and Artie.” 

“Thanks, Nyla,” Cal said, “I’m sure that Artie will miss you as well.” 

They both waited for Artie to speak up but nothing happened,“That is odd.” Nyla said. She had grown used to the strange voice’s often crude, but witty interjections. 

“It is strange,” Cal said with a concerned look on his face, “normally you can’t shut the bucket of bolts up.” Cal walked over to a supposedly blank wall, tapping it at his chest height. A seam formed where Cal had tapped it, and a chunk of the wall slid to either side, leading them from the room that had been Nyla’s only interaction with the ship to a room that held screens displaying a glut of information Nyla could only guess at. 

Cal took the only seat in the middle of the room and Nyla realized every screen in this room was angled to be visible from the strange seat, “Computer, display sub-process Seven-A-I-Niner-Three.” 

The screen directly in front of Cal shifted from a strange display of a lot of circles and dots rotating, to an image that Nyla could only marvel at as it seemed to display an ever-changing net of strange symbols and other even stranger images. 

“That’s weird, Artie is directing a massive amount of power and memory to utilize the sub-space comms.” Cal said, leaning back in his seat, “Artie, command directive, report to user.” 

Artie’s voice seemed to once more emanate from everywhere, but without its usual playfulness it now seemed more mechanical and monotone, “Artificial Intelligence Serial number Q-Seven-Niner-T-F-Five–” 

“Cancel serial read, confirm designation.” Cal said, interrupting what Nyla could only guess was a very long number.

“This unit is designated as a companion model for user Callum Nigel Rittlebach, preferred name of Cal. Cal has designated this unit Artie.” Artie said in that monotone way. 

“Okay that’s good,” Cal said more to himself than anyone around, “Artie, terminate user reporting.” 

A faint beep was the only response that Cal got, “Well let's give him a second.” Cal said. 

They sat in silence for a moment before Artie spoke, this time in his usual playful tone, “Cal, a message from UCH, you should see it.” 

Without waiting for a response Artie put the message up on the screen directly in front of Cal. On-screen, a woman with long blonde hair and green eyes spoke, “To all humans, hello from Earth! I hope this finds you well, as what I have to say will not be easy for many of you to hear. There has been a cancellation of all off-world permits, Leave, and PCS orders in effect for the military. Return to your station of origin on Earth or Mars immediately, through the fastest means available. To the general population, the United Council of Humanity requests that you return to Earth as soon as possible.” 

Nyla looked from the screen where the woman was speaking a garble of sound she could not understand to Cal. Cal’s face seemed pale. She wanted to ask Cal what was happening, but the woman on the screen began speaking again.

“The next part of this is a temporary relief from directive P-Zero-Seven-A-Niner. All people currently in contact or on-world with another race: secure contact with the local leadership and secure an ambassador. At the very least, please bring a representative member of the species you are in contact with.” The woman said this and paused, still looking into the camera.

“Special instructions will follow for specific individuals, please remain in contact with your AI and continue to make your way home with the dignitaries you bring.” The woman on the screen froze for a second before the message started over. 

“Cal.” Nyla said, looking at his face which seemed to have fallen to a dark place, “What’s happening?” 

Cal was about to speak when a new message appeared on the screen. The same woman, looking far less composed–in fact, she looked exhausted. She spoke with a sigh, “Cal, I’m not gonna play the stupid games, so let me simply say this. Humanity is going to need you on this one. Everyone has told me you won’t come, but I am sending this anyway. If you decide to come, be fast.”

Cal pressed a button, clearing every screen, and sat back in his chair, letting out a long sigh of his own. Nyla waited patiently and Cal gave her a look, “Well Nyla, you have a choice. Apparently, something big is going on, so do you want to be the first of the Narvish to travel to another world?”