Djara

Calling the Void

Designation Zero was neither a place or a time, but merely a set of happenings.  Its significance was that it sat at the point where no life existed... anywhere.  At least that would have been the case, if a certain spinning spherical cage had not suddenly appeared at Designation Zero.

It had begun as a team of men and women exited the cage and began assembling The Ring.  Many trips and many years later, the Designation Zero Ring spun, like a glowing golden ring, in the dark heavens, at a sweet distance from the sun.

Within the spinning ring, the people of 'Control' worked, like so many bees within a hive.  They served a single purpose.  Their purpose was to bring about the end of creation; not for any evil master plan, but simply so life could start again.

Creation had been deemed flawed and imperfect, slowly running down, like a damaged clock.  The only way to fix it was to scrap it and start anew.

So it was that the team at 'Control' worked tirelessly to erase whole sections of space and time.  In order to do that, they needed vast resources, and, ironically, a lot of time.  To achieve the complete eradication of all creation would take generations.  And, if it all went well, life would restart, the spinning spherical cage would reappear and Designation Zero and 'Control' would be back in place, only much improved.  At least that was the theory.

The destruction of time and space was amazingly simple.  By opening the way from one designation to another one reality was sucked away into The Void, from where it had first come.  Bit by bit, the infinite was becoming finite.  Once a certain tipping point was reached, all designations would cease to be.  The Void would then be free to spawn a whole new creation.

To open the way from one designation to another took vast resources and that meant finding ever more inaginative ways to extract gold, steel, silver, platinum and muc more besides.

In Control Central sat Kylea Katarn.  She sat plotting a graph to analyse when Designation Three could be collapsed.  It was a simple calculation, depending on how many resources were available and what size hole could be punched into Designation Three.

Durarl Van Loss strode into the stark, white room, where Kylea Katarn worked at her desk. 

'Hey, Kylea, how's it coming with Designation Three?  We just got a message from the collection team there.  Look's like they're getting antsy.  Some problem with the locals.  The collection team want to know when the plug's going to be pulled on 3.'

Kylea looked up, then took a slow drink from the cup in front of her.

'Okay.  I'm just about finished.  As long as supplies hold, we're looking at three weeks.  Can the collection team keep going that long?'

'We'll contact them and see.  They've been in place there a long time, about 88 years or so.  If you ask me, i think the collection team have gone native... too much contact with the primitives.'

Kylea looked at Durarl with a frown.  'Eighty-eight years is a long time.  Who's in command of the collection team?'

'A guy called Baal.'

'Hmm, is he human?'

'Don't think so.  He was an off-worlder... bit of a colourful character and also geno-fixed.'

'Woo... how old is he?'

'No records of age.  He's been collecting for us for a good 80 years or more and no sign of aging.'

'Was Baal the one who was asking when we pull the plug on 3?'

'Yep.'

'Okay, well, tell him... 22 days, 3 hours and 6 minutes... their time.  Before that he needs to be back to Control.'

'Okay, message received.'  Durarl made a note on a keypad and walked out of the room.  As Durarl left, Kylea was glad her shift was nearly over.  Another half an hour and she would be soaking in a warm bath and listening to music.

It was then that she felt the baby kick inside her.  'Ouch.  I'll be glad when you are out, too, junior.'  In just about three weeks her baby would be born; a new life to look forward to.  Kylea rested her hand on the bump of her belly and muttered.  'Just be glad you're not in designation 3.'