The Nebular Chronicles

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. But of course, the vacuum of space is not uniformly empty, and they like to exaggerate. For example, here in Jasper's Nebula, the gas-suffused vacuum is dense enough that your voice should technically carry for several dozen miles as a fading drone before failing.

That's why I risk the treacherous descent to Rock's Edge, made even more deadly due to the absurdly low gravity of the asteroid, dare to stand on the precipice over the abyss, and scream into the nebula. I do this every day. My brothers at the convent believe I am in communion with the Nebular, so they leave me be. But of course, the Nebular never answers anything I say anymore, and this screaming ritual of mine is just a stupid rebellion against the excruciating loneliness that threatens to suffocate my sanity.

I don't know why I persist in doing this. Maybe it's because I expect that, one day, the Nebular will respond. My cries for help will no longer fall on deaf ears - or whatever the Nebular has for ears. I yell into the vacuum of space until my throat is raw, and then I collapse. There's a limit even to my cybernetically-enhanced body to tolerate the stress of prolonged screaming in the tenuous synthetic atmosphere of an asteroid such as Convent Rock.

I carry on this futile ritual day by day. I think it's the only thing keeping me sane. If I quit, I would have to face the truth - that I am utterly alone in this great big universe. And that is something I'm not sure I'm ready to do.

My name is Aemeth. As the only one of my kind, a chimaera, half-human-half-Nebular, I align myself with my human heritage mainly because, physiologically speaking, I pass as mostly human despite some complications in my fundamental structure. Other people tend to see me as a miracle: I represent a new hope for our failing species - a chance for humanity to breed again after so many millennia of dormancy.

Only human males live on Convent Rock. A few new brothers arrive on the monthly supply ship, the Tenenda, primarily because of my presence here. Even in my diminished stature in the Nebular's absence, they recognize me as the first human to be born in millennia; hence worth a pilgrimage.

Actually, there are only men for thousands of light years in any given direction. Why this is so, I'll come to in a while. But first, some historical context is due:

It was back on Earth by the end of the 21st century, about eighteen thousand years ago, when humankind conquered death. Through the science of cellular celerogenesis - rapid cell regeneration - human bodies would no longer decay. After comprehensive testing, the miraculous procedure was deemed safe and introduced en masse, despite fears of potential over-population. The fact that nearby planets were being terraformed and colonized relieved some of those concerns. Soon, rapid travel beyond the solar system through curvature drive technology was invented - the technology to curve space-time in front and behind the ship, thereby circumventing the light speed barrier. And the anticipated population boom came to be considered a boon.

It was a time of wonders. Humankind was unshackled from their birth planet and no longer held back by their ridiculously brief biologically-allotted lifespan. Instead, they could explore, discover and create to their heart's content. They could be anything they desired and go anywhere they chose to go. The universe was now their oyster.

Except, as it turned out, the universe didn't want them anymore.

A few centuries after the introduction of celerogenesis, they realized the birth rate was gradually but undoubtedly going down. A minute defect introduced by the immortality process had sneaked into the human genome like a virus and irrevocably messed up the reproductive mechanism there, even as their hosts were utterly unaware. Moreover, the condition was ubiquitous, save for maybe a handful of untouched humans here and there. Those people were herded together and tested to save the species. However, historical records clearly state that all recovery programs failed, and within a dozen generations, all humans alive had become sterile, albeit immortal. Through their ingenuity, humankind had become a race of melancholic, undying super-beings - such a sick cosmic joke!

The impact was brutal. Based on the premise of a steady population increase, the interstellar economy quickly became unstable and crumbled within decades. Then came the social turmoil and confusion as people grappled with their new reality - they could no longer produce offspring and no longer die. Loneliness and despair slowly devoured them. Instead, they turned to fantasies induced by exotic psychedelics imported from the colonial frontier. Yet they were still sterile wherever they stowed their consciousnesses away.

Euthanasia became mainstream for a while, but not for long. Humans are a peculiar species. Most will drudge to the depths of depression evermore without resorting to absolute self-annihilation. Perhaps, deep at their core, they subconsciously perceive the tug of some unknown, yet-to-be-disclosed instrumentality.

So, in time, a new status quo emerged. People kept expanding the human frontier. However, with no newborn humans, they thinned out across the new planets. Today, there are entire worlds where only a single deathless person resides, his body cybernetically enhanced to be a superman, attended solely by robotic and artificial-sentience android servants for company.

That was when the convent came into existence. Its objective was to offer a way out for those who could not bear the weight of immortality - those who wanted to die but could not bring themselves to commit suicide. When the ennui of eternity was no longer tolerable, they would consign themselves to the convent, here to be stored in dreamless slumber, until such a time came when humankind could die again. But that time never came, and the convent grew more prominent as the years passed.

Then one day, I was born through the agency of an alien being, the Nebular. No wonder people look to me for salvation in this society without the means of natural reproduction.

Back to the present:

I climb up from Rock's Edge and make my way to the convent proper. It is an ages-old building sculpted into the asteroid wall. Since we are on the edge of Jasper's Nebula, the whole complex is eerily lit by a perpetual sanguine illumination. The ever-present dust casts a layer of powdery white over everything, and the overall effect is one of an ancient sepulchre.

I amble through the central doorway, immediately enveloped by the hushed atmosphere. Even though I am accustomed to the chill here, I still shiver down my spine. Brothers in long robes glance at me furtively as I walk past them. I can read the silent searching on their faces: Did the Nebular come to me this time? Is it returning soon? I don't have the stomach to tell them I have no idea. So I slip by into the mess hall.

It is always vacant at this hour. I take my meal to an isolated corner and begin to eat. The food, as usual, is bland and tasteless. It is all part of the monastic life we lead here. We have renounced all material pleasures that immortality could bring to focus on one task: to make ourselves suffer for the mess we dragged ourselves into as a species.

As I eat, I daydream, as I often do, about how it would be to speak to a female. I have heard so many tales of that mythical creature from the monks here, but of course, being a latecomer to this strange existence, I never saw one. I can't help but feel a twinge of envy when I think of the men here who have been lucky enough to meet a woman.

The histories speak of how, over the centuries, men and women grew estranged. Without the necessity and possibility of ever rearing a child again, the biological imperative to bind the two halves of the species together evaporated. But, of course, it was still a delight to participate in the thrills of lovemaking and the intellectual jousting with another mind wired differently than your own. Yet, all manner of sex could be satisfied by human-like androids, and artificial sentience partners could readily fulfil intellectual curiosities, so the tedious overhead of suffering the other gender simply lost its charm.

As they expanded across the stars, males and females took different routes. Gradually, one by one, they departed the company of one another until either community had drifted so far apart temporally and temperamentally that there was no longer any possibility of reconciliation. They lost each other's trail in space and time and became mono-sexual. And over centuries, even the sexual drive itself atrophied.

Today, men live pretty insipidly without the presence of the opposite sex. As such, daytimes with my brothers in the convent would pass tending the mushroom gardens in the interior caverns of the asteroid or the fluffy cypher-fruit orchards above, playing games over the ansible network at the gaming refectory, conversing with each other and studying philosophy and science at the library. At nights, I blissfully retreat into the forgetfulness of sleep for as many hours as possible. Then in the mornings, I conduct my daily screamfest to call out to daddy (or mommy?)

My single parent constantly proves to be the worst one any progeny can hope to have. Obviously, it's not even human, so judging its parental prowess with human standards is somewhat absurd. Still, one cannot help but anthropomorphize, especially when the Nebular has been the only sentient alien we have encountered in all our wanderings across innumerable star systems.

Apparently, even though life literally fills every niche and crevice it can across the galaxy, sentience is infinitely rare - in our part of the galaxy, it is the Nebular alone, aside from ourselves and no one else. So, let me tell you about the Nebular:

Our first contact with the sentient neutrino assembly that we call the Nebular was through a bathroom mirror. I can imagine the fright of the brothers as their reflections started to waver and morph before their eyes. It appears the Nebular had been watching humans come and go for a long time - probably to verify their intelligence - before attempting communication by manipulating the photons reflecting off the cabin mirrors. That proved to be a messy but effective way to say hello.

It took a lot of wits and wisdom to sort through what was going on and realize we were in dialogue with an alien intellect so far removed from the humanoid morphology that the only reasonable means of contact was meddling with the physical attributes of photons. Through such a horrendous and incredible first encounter experience, we learned that Jasper's Nebula was alive and conscious.

The Nebular has been with us ever since - at least until recently - a constant but ultimately uninvolved member of our little society on Convent Rock. It has been in the background of every reflection, omnipresent like air but just as intangible. It would make its presence known through some bizarre light show every now and then. The finding of the alien catapulted the convent into sudden popularity as an alluring travel destination, as people flocked here for the opportunity to be part of the happening.

Since its discovery, the Nebular has been our most exciting find in the galaxy, eclipsed only by the Nebular's most outstanding deed ever, which has been me - which brings us to my birth:

I recall my first waking moments inside the Nebular clearly. At first, I was floating in absolute darkness, naked and frigid. I could discern the dense pocket of nebula gas all around me, inside and out. It was a bizarre sensation, like being submerged in water without pressure. I could breathe but didn't need to. I tried to move and found that I could. I hovered there for a while, weightless and unrestrained.

Then the gas began to withdraw. Out to one side, I could glimpse the convent on its tiny asteroid drifting in its lazy orbit through the nebula. I could discern the stars, gas clouds, and other asteroids around me. I could see everything - but they were all so diminutive. I was immense - considerably more expansive than I should have been. The Nebular had adjusted my physical form to facilitate my birth.

After a while, I started to condense. I remember this part as an agonizing and feverish dream. I was shrinking, getting smaller and smaller. The stars became more prominent and then vanished from view altogether. I kept shrinking until I was tiny enough to fit inside the convent - to be human.

I was lying on a cold metal floor inside the convent's warehouse chamber when I opened my eyes. I was nude, clumsily being ministered to by awe-struck monks who had no idea how to take care of a baby.

I knew the Nebular immediately as a disparate being. It had rendered the intricate gravitational pattern that had driven matter particles to congregate into my corpus. But, it had no actual participation in my genetic construct. Instead, it had acted more like an empathic potter that had spun up a human being.

As it happened, I started as a self-aware newborn and grew naturally into a youthful man. My boyhood has been broadcast over the entire ansible network, so you can say I am a celebrity by essence. If you have already watched me on the air, you'd know that I don't look very dissimilar from any regular human, except my eyes are a little too kaleidoscopic, and my hair is a tad too silver.

During my first years, everyone wanted to witness me. So, the monks arranged to take me on tour around the galaxy, but as soon as the spaceship left Convent Rock, I was assailed with the most severe aches that quickly escalated into an internal haemorrhage. I almost died. The ship had to turn back immediately. Since then, it has been established that I cannot depart Convent Rock for more than a few hours before suffering the same fate. No one knows why. The Nebular certainly doesn't seem to care. In fact, it has never communicated with me since my birth.

My popularity was initially due to the misapprehension that I should be the Nebular's spokesperson to address humanity. Unfortunately, that turned out to be inaccurate. Even though I have been sensing the Nebular more persistently and prominently than others, I never got a beep from it.

Later, it was theorized that the Nebular might be utilizing me to showcase its work. Perhaps it intended to produce a whole batch of fresh human beings for whom I was the test model - a debugger of sorts, mortal and unsterilized. One that could grow old, procreate and die as was before this Age of Depressed Immortals. Again, the Nebular yielded no explanations. Still, myths tend to grow, and mine grew exponentially with the agency of my immaculate conception to multiply its integrity.

Then, about three years ago, the Nebular abruptly and mysteriously disappeared, leaving no trace, energy signature, or indication regarding where it had gone. It just vanished into the void beyond space. The convent was thrown into turmoil. Some people assumed that the Nebular had ultimately conveyed to me a task to conduct in its absence. They harried me for non-existent explanations. Others presumed that the Nebular was ultimately fed up with humankind and abandoned us for more compelling subjects to illuminate. Numerous wise men streamed to the convent seeking my counsel, which I failed to offer to their satisfaction.

Days became months with the Nebular absent. Eventually, the convent's touristic prestige died down, and it returned to its original goal of accommodating the disillusioned-sleepers community. Finally, people admitted that nothing of immediate importance remained for them here. So they left me behind with a few attendants to keep an eye on me and turned their collective attention elsewhere.

All of which brings us to my present circumstances:

I am isolated, surrounded by mummified slumberers and a skeleton crew of monks. I have all the time in the universe to ponder what could have been and might still be. But I am not sure if I want to find out. So, I go down to Rock's Edge every day and scream where no one can hear me. I eat, walk, yell, sleep, wake up, rinse and repeat, waiting for anything to shatter the monotony thrust around my neck before it breaks my spirit.

And then, something happens.

One of my tenders wakes me up in the middle of the night and informs me somebody is here to visit me. I rub my eyes and follow him to the foyer hall, where I find a trim, frail-looking man in an oversized white-golden robe. He has prominent eyes, an aquiline nose, and curly hair like a cloud halo atop his head. You can tell he is not from any world on this side of the galaxy. A peculiar kind of gravity shaped his body, that's for sure.

"Aemeth, I presume? Great to meet you!" he says enthusiastically, with an unorthodox accent which sounds somewhat artificial. He introduces himself as Evers and requests to speak with me privately. The monk informs me that Evers arrived in a private starship, unquestionably a mark of incredible wealth. He had insisted on seeing me immediately and would not take no for an answer. I am so starved for anything new to happen that, within moments, I am fully awake and following the frail young man past the convent and up the ridge.

Evers tells me that he has been an independent researcher studying the Nebular for a long time. After it disappeared, he was one of the few who didn't give up hope and persisted in looking for it. And now, he believes he has located it.

As we wander outside the convent, he presents me with diagrams and images demonstrating energy concentrations typical of the Nebular's thought processes spiking at several nebulae. He assures me that the information was uploaded very recently to the ansible network science communities. When you chart the activated nebulae on the galactic map, they lead approximately in the direction of the core. His argument seems solid and obvious when you know what to look for.

I ask Evers what he intends to do with the data. He is silent for a moment. Then he says it depends on what my decision is going to be - about leaving the convent and travelling with him on the Nebular's trail. I chuckle bitterly at this - I wish I could. Then I share the incident I had last time I tried to depart - not going to happen.

In the meantime, we've arrived at the Upper Plateau. Evers' spacecraft rests gracefully on the gravel field that covers the hill here. The ivory oval chassis of the spaceship looks marvellous in the diffused light from the nebula. She looks like a glittering clam opened along the middle. Inside one half of the clamshell grows a shimmering emerald orchard decorated with flower gardens and four massive red pagodas. The other half is a transparent lid decorated with a faux sky and rests at an oblique angle. It is a rather sizeable vessel, easily big enough to sustain a comfortable living for dozens of individuals. The whole affair is exceptionally feminine - unlike the spartan designs of the male starships with which I am familiar.

Evers catches me gaping at his ship and grins. "She's a beauty, isn't she?" he asks. I nod in agreement, lost for words. "I call her the Lotus." He pats the flank of the clam affectionately.

For a moment, he appears to entertain some indecision. Then unexpectedly, he turns to me and starts to undress, his magnetic eyes locked on mine as he does so. I am stunned and transfixed. Meanwhile, he explains that he knows of my predicament and might offer a solution. His robe slips off completely, and I see his - her! - body as it is: Small but unmistakably female breasts, bare and with protruding nipples, simple white linen underpants covering her private parts, and pale skin coated with the fairest blonde fluff. A girl of about my own years.

Astonished, I let my jaw drop and do not care to collect it. She chuckles and remarks that I look silly. "Don't worry," she assures me, "I understand how you must feel. I felt similar when I first arrived in the company of men - undercover, of course. Not every day do you see a member of the opposite sex, let alone one undress." I still cannot speak, so I just nod dumbly. I hope I am not drooling.

Evers beams and starts to get dressed again. "Good," she says. "Now that we have that settled, let's discuss the crucial bit. I'm sure you're wondering where I'm going with this," she elaborates. "As I said, I want you to come with me. Before you object again, hear me out, will you?"

My mind reels at her words. Leave the convent? With her? On that beautiful ship? Impossible!

She motions me to sit next to her as she unveils a hologram that illustrates, in intricate detail, every medical examination that has ever been conducted on me. Extremely private information... She merely says, "Spy AI," as if it explains everything.

It appears I've been under surveillance for quite a while. Evers has been playing a waiting game to see what my steps would be following the disappearance of the Nebular. Now that she understands I won't be leaving the convent anytime soon and needs my help, she has decided to step in.

"I believe I can help you break out of your confinement", she says. "My people had to deal with the same problem some time ago." My heart skips a beat. Could it be true? "There is a way out", she continues, "but it's a big leap of faith. You'll have to trust me." I stare into her eyes and see only sincerity.

She leans in conspiratorially. "I am the same as you," she whispers, weighing me with her eyes as she says so.

"How do you - you mean - you and the Nebular?" I stammer.

"Another Nebular, to be exact... Yes, I am a chimaera too."

I'm still trying to process this news when she says, "I know this is a lot to take in, but we don't have much time. So you need to decide quickly: Come with me or stay here. The choice is yours."

I think about it for a moment.

"I may need a little more context before I make a decision", I blurt out, even as my subconscious screams at me to say yes - as do my genitals.

"Of course", Evers chuckles. "Even though our societies are wildly different, you males and us females, we share the same essential disposition to question. I get that. I grew up in the scientific and militaristic sorority of women while you were raised in a secluded philosophical convent of males. There is plenty you don't know about the outside, and I know very little about your world. But we can learn from each other."

I'm hooked, and she knows it.

"First, let me tell you how I can help you get off Convent Rock. The scientific clique of my people put me through intense experimentations all my life. I can say I've practically been a lab rat. It hasn't been pleasant, but eventually, they discovered that my body needs a particular neutrino environment to survive. I reckon it is the curious heritage of being built by a neutrino-based lifeform. The condition is etched fundamentally into the strings that make me - us. With me so far?"

I am. Evers resumes.

"The Lotus helps with alleviating that condition. She is a self-contained habitat with an ice-nine-like rudimentary string configuration. It affects the neutrino-scape around the ship up to a radius of 1.21 AU, making that space liveable for our kind. It is your ticket out of this rock if you are willing to take it. What do you say?"

Evers sees my face contort into a thousand different emotions, and she chuckles softly. "I know it's a huge ask," she says. "I am basically inviting you to leave behind your entire world so far. But I really could use your help tracking down our makers."

I have difficulty wrapping my mind around how fast this situation is developing. Also, I'm still reeling from the revelation that Evers is a chimaera like me - I am NOT alone! Oh, and the fact that she is female, which adds a layer of hormonal confusion to everything.

"Look, Aemeth, I hate to rush you, but we are in a pickle. I've been hiding from the militaristic faction of women for quite some time, but I'm afraid they have found my trail. It's only a matter of time before they come for me in force. This is why I had to make my move today: I cannot stay any longer, and based on what I know about my sisters-in-arms, I do not think you should. We are not immortal, you know - you and me."

Evers starts for the gangway up the ship, and I'm still trying to take all this in as I follow her, feeling a bit like a sacrificial lamb.

"I believe that we are not the only chimaeras out there", she continues. According to the data I showed you, it appears highly likely that numerous Nebulars must be making their way towards the galactic epicentre, most probably leaving chimaera children behind - our siblings. The signals originate from undocumented and barely-explored frontier regions. Who knows what fringe human communities exist there."

On top of the gangway, she turns to face me. She looks driven. With fire in her voice, she speaks as if addressing a crowd of me. Her stature seems to multiply tenfold as she does so:

"We have, in our grasp, the means to discovering our purpose of existence - the meaning to our lives. I intend to locate our brethren and gather as many as I can. Then I'll steer the Lotus towards the galactic centre to uncover where the Nebulars are heading and confront them. But you need to tell me now: Are you coming with me, brother?"

Family - even a derived one... I never had a family before. Can you really say no when family beseeches you?

Still, I try to weigh my options as rationally as possible. The voyage will be protracted and treacherous. We will be hounded by Evers' people, who sound like they mean serious business. And, I have no idea what the male society will do once they realize I am gone. But, on the other hand, the prospects for Convent Rock look grim, and I know this is my only way out of this place before all hell breaks loose. My only chance at finding answers and discovering who - or what - I really am is right in front of me, beckoning me to her embrace.

"I'm in!" I say.

Evers claps her hands with childlike glee and pulls me into the ship. As the Lotus folds itself shut around us, I can't help but wonder what lies ahead. In any case, one thing is for sure: my life will never be monotonous again.

There is no turning back now. For me, there's definitely nothing worth going back to. I have nothing to pack up for the journey but the habit on my back. I follow Evers across the soft lawn into one of the pagodas, which happens to be the command centre of the Lotus.

Even at this junction, on the precipice of falling away from everything I knew so far, I am astounded to discover that my dormant hormones are raging awake in my late-teenager body for this pretty girl who promises to change my life. She is vital, attractive, and knows her stuff. The pressure in my brain barely matches that in my testicles, so much so that the soft-cushioned control seat gives me a hard-on. What is happening to me?! Get a hold of yourself, boy!

Evers glides her hand over the controls, and several holograms come alive before us. She instructs me to strap in as we are set for a turbulent ride out of the nebula. I do as she says, unsure what to expect but trembling elatedly. So bring it on, I think to myself. Whatever you've got in store for me, life, I am ready for it.

After some extraordinarily bumpy minutes, we blast out of the gas cloud and into deep space, and I am immediately mesmerized by the infinite beauty of it all. It's almost like that first recollection of peeking out at the universe from inside the Nebular. Evers must have seen the amazement in my eyes because she smiles.

"Just wait," she says. "It gets even better."And she engages the curvature drive. The Cosmos folds and blossoms around me into infinite petals like limitless origami as we plunge into the deepness of space on our epic adventure.