Manifold [An Interstellar Sci-Fi Progression Story with LitRPG Elements]

Will-to-Power.

[Assumption that subject has manifested a power to disrupt the compulsion matrix]

- Information regarding a renegade Penal Legionnaire stationed on carbon exoplanet 541-B, designation Desert, located in star system P-Delta-Sigma-70

[EXTRACTED FROM TACOMA INTERSYSTEM RELAY TRANSMISSION TO LEBENSRAUM TELLUS]

A portable, circular plate of lights blazed overhead, stabbing the makeshift operating room through with a beam of uncomfortable white light.

The room was a drab grey cell of cold concrete. Blacksteel rebar stuck out from the walls at odd angles. It was located somewhere far, far below the Lotuszhink headquarters, and seemed to Betelgeuse to be maintained at a temperature several degrees below uncomfortable.

To one end of the room were bulky objects covered over by an opaque tarp. The tarp made massy hillocks of the jutting protuberances it concealed, sticking out here and there like spectral shapes that inflamed the superstitious imagination.

Located in the middle of the room were Betelgeuse, Douglas, Thete and the idiosyncratic Mr. Killian. Betelgeuse was seated on a long operating table whilst Douglas and Thete stood silently by his side, watching the gray-overalled, white-facemasked Mr. Killian eyeing through the medical equipment arranged neatly upon the trolley before him.

On Betelgeuse' request—and considering the pragmatic relationship that had burgeoned between Betelgeuse and the Lotuszhink Chief Kanogg Paluviere—Mr. Killian had permitted two people loyal to Betelgeuse to be present for the grafting operation.

Two. Not more, Mr. Killian had said, though he declined to provide a reason.

Douglas—his left arm now a sleek ten-fingered tungsten-plated blacksteel Caturdhara prosthesis—was the first obvious choice.

As for the second observer, Betelgeuse would have preferred Voke. But when Tenzhian put Belekov in charge of checking the holo-vehicles which Kanogg were outfitting for the Jegorichian contingent (Von, Entuban and Tenzhian himself having to oversee other parts of the escape plan), Betelgeuse considered it prudent to send Voke along to keep an eye on Belekov.

Out of the entire contingent, Betelgeuse considered PDF Sergeant Allih Belekov the most untrustworthy.

As such, Betelgeuse requested Thete Jutson to be the second observer. Thete was still weak from her coma, and her prosthetic eye appeared to dart around sporadically in a way which suggested some form of injury to the brain-prosthesis interface. However, she was the only person, other than Voke or Tenzhian, whom Betelgeuse trusted enough to keep him safe.

Though it wasn't kosher to say it out loud, it was clear that Betelgeuse wanted observers because he distrusted both Kanogg and Mr. Killian.

General anesthesia was required for the Incunabulum-grafting operation, and there was no way Betelgeuse was going to expose his unconscious body to the untrammeled ministrations of the gemstone-eyeballed brain-tekkie. Not without some protection.

"Preparations done," Mr. Killian said, his voice sounding more like a mechanical buzz than anything human. As he said this, one of his multi-phalanged arachnoid appendages reached down to pick up a syringe. "General anesthetic to be applied. Intravenous injection. Right arm or left?"

"A moment," Betelgeuse said, looking down at the hazy translucence of the White Incunabulum he held in his hands.

A clicking sound emanated from Mr. Killian's mouth, but Betelgeuse couldn't be sure if the brain-tekkie was clicking his tongue in irritation—couldn't even be sure if the brain-tekkie even had a tongue.

Ignoring Mr. Killian, Betelgeuse flipped the White Incunabulum open. Gibberish Aluaan scrawls were inked neatly on the first page.

Betelgeuse had already run the substance of the Increment and Etchings by Thete. As far as he could piece together, and with Thete's help at translating, it read as follows:

Increment: Movon Lennelly's affinity for kinetic movement manifests as rapid physical adaptation.

Etching 1: Movon Lennelly's cardiovascular adaptations are stabilized to maintain the quality of his activity over long periods.

Etching 2: Movon Lennelly's functional adaptations are stabilized to his musculoskeletal form.

"Summarize again. What are the main steps of the grafting operation?" Betelgeuse asked, raising his head and staring into Mr. Killian's locust eyes.

Mr. Killian regarded him silently for a full five seconds before launching into a deadpan reiteration of what he had already told Betelgeuse.

"The Incunabulum will be grafted onto your Brain Meridian. A new communication pathway will be established. Communication will occur by Resonant-Material repurposed from other Incunabulum," Mr. Killian said.

"And the excisions? Run that by me one more time," Betelgeuse said. "You said that the grafts succeed or fail according to compatibility between previous holder and current graftee. And much of such compatibility might be affected by being in a mental state that is highly incongruous to the graft. That's what you said earlier."

Mr. Killian processed the question for several more seconds before answering: "High compatibility in personhood and/or intentionality makes successful grafts. Low compatibility in personhood and/or intentionality makes unsuccessful grafts. Therefore Excision must be performed on relevant portions of the Incunabulum. Failure to do so may result in Bloam-activity and/or Bloam vulnerability."

"What exactly will you excise?" Betelgeuse asked.

"Excision of Increment. Excision of name: Movon Lennelly. Name to be substituted for holder: Betelgeuse Sakar. Holder-name to be inserted in Common," Mr. Killian snapped, his arachnoid appendages bending and unbending purposelessly. "May we begin the operation, Mr. Sakar?"

It was as close to irritated as Mr. Killian was going to get.

Betelgeuse set his lips into a hard line.

"A moment. I must discipline my intentionality," he said, earning for his words a low chittering that emanated from Mr. Killian's mouth.

It fitted what Betelgeuse knew about Incunabula generally, what Mr. Killian said. Whether Incunabula extended the holder's intentionality or controlled it, what was clear was that there was an intimate linkage between Incunabula and their holders.

This means that grafting without excision of possibly incompatible aspects is dangerous. If the incompatibility is too large, it could fragment the mind or introduce Bloaming.

I find it a pity to excise the Increment, given how useful it seems.

But the first portion reading 'Movon Lennelly's affinity for kinetic movement' is intimately tied to this Movon Lennelly's life-experience. I surely don't have such an affinity for kinetic movement, so it's safer to just excise it.

As for my name being inserted in Common, Mr. Killian says that it's the standard practice to introduce names in the Mother Tongue of the graftee, otherwise I could induce mental fragmentation.

And because the Etchings are in Aluaan, Killian says that I might come out with a rudimentary ability to speak and read it.

That's all. Of course, there's still...

"Risk?" Betelgeuse asked finally.

In all the time he had spent absorbed in his own thoughts, not once did he waver from Mr. Killian's unstinting compound gaze.

"First grafting. Incompatible language. Forty percent chance there will be no complications. Five percent chance of death," Mr. Killian said, his arachnoid appendages shuddering as if they couldn't wait to slice into Betelgeuse' flesh.

Hurry up! Mr. Killian was thinking, hurry—

"Proceed," Betelgeuse intoned, reclining on the operating table and squinting at the white-sun blazing overhead.

A vulnerable position, he thought, to be on his back. He glanced at Douglas and Thete standing to his right.

Keep an eye out, would you? Betelgeuse said with his eyes.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Thete nodded gravely. She had cautioned Betelgeuse against playing with forces he didn't understand, when he'd asked her for help with interpreting the White Incunabulum's blessings.

Was her concern sincere, or does she fear my power? Betelgeuse thought, observing her twitching nose and charcoal pupil and juddering prosthetic eyeball.

… She does look genuinely concerned.

Then he shifted his vision to Douglas, who raised two metal fingers and grinned.

"Intravenous injection. Right arm or left?" Mr. Killian asked, interrupting Betelgeuse' thoughts.

"Right," Betelgeuse said, and Mr. Killian's mechanical appendages shot out before Betelgeuse had finished saying the word.

The world blurred; the light became wan and viscous and reminiscent of the Solar god that daily greeted the mountainous Edom and its canopies of redwood; and behind him, above him, beside him were thick and ponderous walls of cicada-sounds…

"… there are things in this land that do not belong to you?" Betelgeuse asked, his eyes blurry and unfocused. It was already very difficult to keep track of the conversation that had gone on before, although he had the sense that it had gone on interminably, for an age or more, for longer than he'd been alive.

No. Everything belongs to me. I have everything and am everything. Whatever you see that rejects me, cannot long live in this dominion.

"But there are things in here which can reject you, by your very admission," Betelgeuse said.

Not for long. Eventually, all things become me. You see merely a small snippet of the entire process of assimilation.

Come back within a single lifetime, and you'll see that I am one. I am The One.

Because Betelgeuse had already forgotten the earlier part of the conversation, it was like the conversation just started.

It was like he'd just been born.

"I don't see how everything can become you. For us to converse in the first place, it must mean a difference exists that permits a reference," Betelgeuse said, his self shuddering in place. "If the reference itself is not you, then not everything is you."

In time to come, all systems of reference, all language, all things that can be named things—all of these will melt into The One.

When that time comes, there will be no need even to recognize existence.

I am.

"I am not you," Betelgeuse said.

Oh?

Is it because you still think of your-self as self-contained, a self beyond the dictates of the will?

The self is my creature.

I am its creator.

Even the thing you call Betelgeuse Sakar, for every time you say the name you merely perpetuate an illusion.

Go on.

Think of yourself.

Call your-self what others call you. For that is all your name is, a reference that others use to simplify, to reduce, to control, to make reproducible by the great industries of Man everything that your-self is.

Think of yourself as Betelgeuse Sakar, think of yourself as Movon Lennelly, think of yourself as Frederica Jaine, think of yourself as Tenzhian Calciocos—

Something interrupted The One's words. There was a judder and a shift under his perceptions. The sunlight was getting stronger and more oppressive.

Think of yourself as Betelgeuse Sakar and that is all you will be. A form made by others who know you as Betelgeuse Sakar.

Call thy-self. Know thy-self. Lose thy-self.

Betelgeuse Sa—

"—kar!" Tenzhian called, his eyebrow raised.

Betelgeuse blinked. Someone was poking him in the side.

It was a hard poke and it had caused his body to jerk reflexively. He turned to see that it was the diminutive Thete, watching him with her charcoal pupil, mouthing: you gone kooky?

Beside her were Douglas and Voke whispering to each other and casting surreptitious glances his way.

"Yes. I'm here. What is it, Tenzhian?" Betelgeuse said, blinking away the fuzziness in his mind and refocusing his attention on the former PDF Captain.

Tenzhian narrowed his eyes at Betelgeuse, but finding that he could not properly verbalize what he was thinking, he turned to the cockpit of the holo-vehicle and said: "This will be vehicle one of three. Belekov and Voke have confirmed that Chief Paluviere has reinforced the hull with blacksteel-plating. But it makes the holo-craft far-heavier, so we need more fuel. Much more."

Betelgeuse stared into the cockpit. There were two seats—for the co-pilot and pilot. He didn't know the first thing about flying a holo-vehicle, but Tenzhian said all PDF soldiers ranked Sergeant and up had to obtain a license.

That meant they had three possible pilots. Belekov, Von, and Tenzhian. Entuban may have been a Staff Sergeant, but Betelgeuse could already see that the man was too large to fit into the pilot's seat.

"Did you hear me?" Tenzhian said when Betelgeuse did not reply. Tenzhian turned back with a strange look on his face, regarding Betelgeuse once more with a fraught gaze.

"I did," Betelgeuse confirmed.

"Are you are… okay?" Tenzhian asked.

Thete was nudging Betelgeuse again, furrowing her brows and making eyes at him. Betelgeuse knew what she was thinking—that he was suffering from complications.

The only people who knew of the White Incunabulum-graft were Thete, Douglas, Voke, Mr. Killian and Kanogg. Betelgeuse hadn't wanted to take the risk of divulging it to the others.

But in fact, Betelgeuse had never felt better. His body was positively thrumming with power. Gone were the persistent lung issues which debilitated him. Only the feeling of physical invulnerability remained.

Okay, let's not get too carried away. I'm clearly physically stronger because of the White grade's Etchings, but there's a limit.

We killed the original holder, after all.

Betelgeuse' hand rose unbidden to grab at his vest's collar. It did feel a little uncomfortable—a little weird, like a vague feeling of incongruity—to have not one but two Incunabula pulsing against his chest.

There was a clear hierarchy, however, concretized by the brain-tekkie's efforts in wiring up the Incunabula in the specified manner—Betelgeuse' Ash Incunabulum was in control of the grafted White Incunabulum.

The graft's Etchings now read as follows:

Etching 1: Betelgeuse Sakar's cardiovascular adaptations are stabilized to maintain the quality of his activity over long periods.

Etching 2: Betelgeuse Sakar's functional adaptations are stabilized to his musculoskeletal form.

However, excising the Increment meant that the White Incunabulum could not manifest any further Etching—at least that's what Mr. Killian had said.

A pity, but it had to be done.

"Betelgeuse Sakar," Tenzhian sounded, stepping forward and placing a hand on Betelgeuse' shoulder, his features now thoroughly usurped by concern and anxiety. "You aren't well?"

"... I've never felt better, Tenzhian. I was just thinking about how to source for more hypergolic fuel," Betelgeuse grinned.

"You… You have been spacing out," Tenzhian said, lowering his hand.

Betelgeuse shrugged.

"I've had a lot to think about," he said, turning and walking down to the exit with the others trailing behind him. "Anyway, the fuel thing is going to be a problem. Kanogg says none of the Nook depots are supplied. Those of the black-market guys who could leave have already left, and they've scoured the whole place clean of resources."

Betelgeuse found the insides of the holo-craft surprisingly spacious. It was definitely much more pleasant to be in it than in the APCs.

And Kanogg planned to split the Jegorichians amongst three holo-craft.

Actually, there was no shortage of holo-vehicles in the Nook. In fact, it was suffering from a surplus of abandoned vehicles.

Most of the wealthy black-market Nooksters had already left Saltilla, abandoning a large number of vehicles and other goods which they didn't manage to bring with themselves.

Kanogg herself had taken advantage of the General Strike to appropriate an immense amount of resources.

In fact, the only reason why she had the capital to purchase all of Betelgeuse' Incunabula was because she'd inked several contracts with her Nookster counterparts who already managed to escape to Jegorich. Kanogg stood to profit greatly on transporting many of the valuable goods and vehicles left behind.

This was also why she had to allocate three holo-craft to the Jegorichians. She just didn't have enough manpower for everything.

This wasn't all. Betelgeuse had elicited from Kanogg that she found some buyers amongst the black-market barons of Jegorich, although she was understandably reluctant to share more than cursory information about these premium contracts.

Talk about right place, right time, thought Betelgeuse, sighing internally.

He stepped out of the holo-craft and thumped down the flight of metal steps. Putting his feet flat on the concrete ground, Betelgeuse scanned the capacious and dimly-lit garage.

The garage was located about 10 or more kilometers from the Lotuszhink headquarters. Not exactly the most convenient.

"The Barracks," Betelgeuse said. "That's about the only place that's going to have good quality hypergolic fuel in the quantities we need."

"... It was the only thing I could come up with as well," Tenzhian nodded, coming beside Betelgeuse.

They were contemplating going against the Allied Forces. The enormity of it was staggering to comprehend.

"We'll take one of the reinforced APCs," Betelgeuse said, raising an arm and pointing it into the darkness.

"B.T., " Voke called from behind, his voice soft and boyish, yet edged with determination.

"We'll jack her out as well."