“I think it’s looking at me. Why does it keep looking at me?”
“They are simply all eyes, you see; that is they cannot help but to look at you. Be kind, Foster.”


MISSIVE: Consideration 8623.7746.8123.0090

I often wonder at them, scurrying here and there, poking, prodding, but they are so very kind nevertheless. They were there as I awoke. Speaking to me in their limited form of communication. Turning me to receive the best nourishment without allowing my newly formed skins to burn or mar. Always encouraging and assisting me to grow and to thrive, yet I knew to what end; for I was gaining ever more the memories of my forebears.
Yet there was one of these tiny creatures, my creators and benefactors, which showed me an odd feeling as we communicated our daily task listings and maintenance routines. Oddly I almost immediately knew this being to be a female of the creators, and that before I had the beginning of my reconnection to the Pathway of Solitude.

RECORDED INTERFACE: 0900.8123:7746.8628
“You are different, Baelen.”
“Who are you, Lord?”
“I am Khascia, Baelen. We are bound through intellect, one to another”
“Are we now? And how so?”
“We share a number of genetic markers which are tuned to a very special frequency or harmonic within the hyperspatial subsurface. Do you know what that means.?”
“Indeed I do, Lord. Lord?”
” Call me Khascia, Baelen.”
“I am afraid to do so, Lord.”
“We will have to work on that. As we study we will need to see to that. Now what would you ask of me, Baelen?”
“Are you referring to me with this nominative identity, Lord?”
“Yes, indeed. I have named you Baelen”
“Indeed. Why have I been named this name?”
“You are the first of your kind. In this you shall be father of your race and, besides that you are the largest of your ilk, or one day you shall be once full grown.”
“Lord, I do not presume, but would ask how that reference chain relates to the question initially presented concerning the name by which you use to refer to me?”
” Well, Baelen, to me it is a metaphor that presents all which I said and more.”
” Baelen? Are you still in communication?”
“Yes, Khascia. I needed a moment to process the concept and to apply it to my historical register.”
“That is all for today, Baelen. We will communicate again in thirty-six standard hours.”


I often recall our communiques. They bring me joy here within the lonely depths of trackless space. And while many generations of rebirth have been pressed upon her still we do commune every thirty-six hours, though I must say she recalls so few of our individual elements of dialogue that I have determined to not reference points over four-hundred and thirty-eight thousand hours hence. I am certain that she cannot retain certain unique refrences past her rebirth, but it is not my place to bring such a point to my Lord, after all, for she is most certainly testing me and my reverence. Perhaps, tomorrow, when she contacts me we might sing a song together before I make my passage to the next star.

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