The Stars Have Eyes

It was common practice within the Federation of Allied Governments to categorize extradimensional cosmic entities in accordance with the Archive of Anomalous Abilities. Often abbreviated to ‘Triple-A,’ it was essentially a tier list that ranked various types of supernatural phenomena from least to most dangerous. If a being from beyond the veil could manifest a Class-3 power at most, then it was deemed a Class-3 entity. That was, for the most part, all that mattered. Things like size, strength, speed, and durability of its physical form didn’t factor into the categorization, nor did the range and magnitude of the individual’s mental abilities. That was why shoggoths were Class-1 even though they could mop the floor with most Class-2s in a direct confrontation. However, stopping a shoggoth was a simple matter of firepower whereas intelligent and psionically active creatures were far trickier to locate and neutralize.

This was but one example that demonstrated the inherent flaws of the Triple-A system, but it was the best that the Federation could do. It was practically impossible to accurately assess the threat level of all otherworldly entities that poured into this reality due to the overwhelming lack of information. The Triple-A classification system was broad and vague because there were far too many mysteries and variables involved for it to be anything else. Many of these secrets revolved around the dimension that the cosmic beings crawled out of. A big part of this was because the Milky Way could not peer past the veil, and even if they could, they would not be able to make any sense of what lay beyond. That universe was so profoundly alien that it could not be understood by any mortal mind that wasn’t completely shattered.

The opposite was also true, to an extent. Most cosmic entities struggled to comprehend a number of fundamental things about the universe on Joe Mulligan’s side of the dimensional border. The biggest ones were matter and the gravity it created, which were entirely foreign concepts to Maggie’s kind. Time wasn’t, but the aforementioned forces bent its flow in ways that made it strange and confusing. To make matters worse, the natural forces of order and chaos were little more than ideas or concepts. The main connecting thread between the two realities, and indeed the specialty of those from beyond the veil, was the power of thought. It was what allowed beings like Magh’rathlak the Observer to reach out to the Milky Way’s residents and to make sense of the material realm through them.

Sneaking peeks at the other dimension was relatively simple, but actually entering it was far from easy. In a fit of cosmic irony, this difficulty of the transition increased exponentially with the individual’s psionic power. A Class-3, for instance, could not manifest its many wondrous and terrible abilities unless it had developed and trained its consciousness to be deeply attuned to its native reality. It was that same affinity that inevitably pulled these beings back to whence they came, like an owner tugging on a rowdy pet’s leash. There was also natural pushback from the invaded dimension as well, but that one was much weaker.

There were ways and means to counteract these forces, of course. One of those was to forge a suitable vessel and then link it to a willing mind native to the material plane. The entity could then use this ‘ship’ and ‘anchor’ as focal points that allowed it to maintain and reassert its paradoxical existence within the other dimension. This was the nature of the connection Maggie established with Joe upon their first meeting, and the Class-3 had gotten a lot of use out of it. However, while it afforded The Observer with a lot of freedom to study and explore the enigma called humanity, this method was far from flawless. The biggest issue became apparent during interstellar travel. For reasons yet unknown to Maggie, the tear in reality created by wormhole generators whisked away her vessel and anchor while leaving her alien consciousness behind. With nothing to keep it grounded, the Class-3 was then instantly pulled back into its native dimension through the same gap in reality regardless of its wishes.

The jump following Kelogh’theryl’s unscheduled departure was no different. Magh’rathlak appeared like an explosion of ink amidst a sea of gray nothingness, its immense mass dotted by countless mismatched eyes. Its featureless surroundings were dyed a reddish hue as the creature emanated frustration at being torn away from Joe’s side yet again. The disturbance faded within moments, as did the emotion that spawned it. The Observer then checked for any messages or pending communications that awaited its return. The only such instance was a correspondence from its sibling that simply said, ‘Well played, you googly-eyed bitch.’ Magh’rathlak sent a reply reminding Kelogh’theryl that it was most certainly not a canine of the female variety. It was aware that wasn’t what The Devourer meant, but also knew that the literal response would surely annoy its chaotic counterpart. The Observer did not dispute the ‘googly-eyed’ part, though. It was technically true and, in a way, kind of cute.

Cosmic rivalry aside, that message brought a certain matter to the forefront of The Observer’s consciousness. Namely, the pact it had made with its sibling. The Devourer had agreed to stop trying to seduce Joe Mulligan in exchange for a certain amount of pancakes. Magh’rathlak had held up its end of the bargain, yet its sibling had gone after Joe anyway. Sort of. What happened wasn’t technically an attempt at seduction. However, it was close enough that it could perhaps maybe count as a violation of the pact. The Observer wasn’t a hundred percent certain on this, due primarily to some wishful thoughts of further payback.

For better or for worse, it wasn’t Magh’rathlak’s place to decide such things. The laws of order decreed that matters of uncertainty had to be brought before Yagraactah the Adjudicator for a final ruling. Bringing this case to the ultimate authority’s attention would require a bit of time, but The Observer was in no rush. The seconds in its home realm ticked by much quicker than Joe’s home dimension. It had the equivalent of about an hour before it was summoned back, hopefully via a kiss, and it had little else to keep it busy until then. Well, that and the entity of order felt compelled to eliminate the uncertainty within its mind, as its nature dictated.

Maggie’s astral self imagined being within The Adjudicator’s domain, and then it was so. The Observer found itself surrounded by projected mental images of perfectly proportioned geometric shapes, mostly cubes and octahedrons. Its sprawling tendril-touting form was rapidly yet painlessly compressed until the entity was transformed into an equilateral twenty-sided construct, each face adorned with a different eye. The nearest cube approached until it was close enough to invade the visitor’s personal space, if such a thing existed in this universe. It then did a full revolution around each axis, its monotonic thoughts punctuating each motion.

“Entity, Magh’rathlak. Designation, Observer. Alignment, Order.”

It then did the exact same movements in reverse.

“Visitation logged. Dispensing welcome.”

The cube emitted an aura of soothing yellow light for precisely 1.3701 seconds.

“Received,” Maggie’s quiet and controlled voice replied. “Request, open new query.”

“Acknowledged. Submit nature of query.”

“Investigation into possible obligation violation.”

“Acknowledged. Submit evidence of suspected obligation violation.”

A thin ribbon of white light started pouring out of one of The Observer’s eyes, almost like it was printing an inhumanely long receipt.

“Presenting memory strand,” it declared.

The cube-clerk opened up like a cardboard box, revealing its interior was composed of many more, much smaller boxes holding similarly glowing strips of light. These containers shuffled around rapidly until an empty one was brought to the front. It then, for lack of a better word, inhaled the offered memory strand and the whole arrangement closed itself back up like a nested filing cabinet.

“Received. Analysis commencing.”

Magh’rathlak revolved patiently around its twenty-sided self as it waited for the ruling. Though it looked incredibly plain and basic, the cube it had just spoken to was actually a fragment of Yagraactah’s consciousness, as were most other shapes in the vicinity. The Adjudicator existed in this state for the sake of efficiency, allowing it to process millions of queries simultaneously. This was not at the expense of the quality of the work being done, as each and every matter was scrutinized thoroughly and considered carefully before a judgement was made. There were, of course, cases that were much trickier and more intricate than others, and therefore required more time and internal deliberation to resolve. The Observer’s quandary was one such incident, much as it expected. If the solution was clear and obvious, it would have settled the issue personally instead of bringing it to the ultimate authority on order.

That said, wasn’t the process dragging out a bit too much? Magh’rathlak wasn’t worried at first, but this dragged on for so long that it was almost time for its consciousness to be pulled back into Maggie’s lovely form. Alternating waves of green and red emanated from its being, a sign of its mounting urgency and desire to get this over with so it could return to Joe’s side. Thankfully the cube ceased its computations before long, though not for the reason that Maggie had hoped.

“Alert, submitted evidence deemed insufficient for judgement,” it declared. “Submit full circumstances of subject, Joe Mulligan.”

The Observer’s annoyance disappeared instantly, replaced by a flash of hesitation. Was it truly necessary to divulge everything it knew about the man? Actually, yes, it was. It might not have been moments before, but it became as such the instant the Adjudicator deemed it so. With that momentary hang-up resolved, Magh’rathlak rapidly produced over a hundred and twenty memory strands, each significantly longer than the first. Encoded within was every single observation the Class-3 had made since coming into contact with Joe, hence the absurd volume. These were all nevertheless folded up and filed away inside the cubic fragment.

“Received. Second-stage analysis commencing.”

And then… more waiting, punctuated by even stronger waves of impatience from the Class-3 entity.

“Urgency detected,” the cube noticed this. “Requesting confirmation.”

“Confirmed.”

“Acknowledged. Offering to notify Entity Magh’rathlak upon completion of analysis.”

“… I comprehend.”

A blinding white radiance of pure enlightenment enveloped the Class-3 entity for several seconds before gradually subsiding. It was the same reaction that normally manifested itself as a barely noticeable flash in Maggie’s eyes - a telltale sign that The Observer had obtained entirely new knowledge. Indeed, it seemed obvious in retrospect, but the entity hadn’t really considered the possibility that it didn’t need to sit there and wait the whole time while the fragment did its thing. After all, it never really had somewhere else to be before meeting Joe.

“Comprehension is neither acceptance nor rejection,” the cube pointed out.

“Dispensing apologies. Accepting offer.”

“Acknowledged.”

Since this matter no longer required its immediate attention, Magh’rathlak imagined itself returning to its previous location. Now away from the Class-5’s fragments, its twenty-sided form was free to expand into its usual many-eyed many-tentacled mass of psionic energy. It then calmly and peacefully waited for a while longer before it felt a familiar pull. It gave into it and, after an experience that would make anything with a stomach vomit, Maggie smirked happily as Joe’s lips pulled away from hers.

“You know, this never gets old,” the man said with a grin of his own.

“What do you mean?”

“This. The whole ‘waking up the sleeping beauty’ thing. No wonder why they try and cram that into every fairy tale movie.”

The girl’s smile widened. She couldn’t exactly understand why he was so happy about something so inconsequential, but he was, and that made her happy in turn. This relationship might have started as a curious experiment, but at some point Maggie realized it wasn’t a mere distraction or novelty. Giving and receiving affection, allowing herself to feel instead of just think - companionship was a truly wonderful thing. She’d been missing out on so much over the millenia and she didn’t want to imagine going back to how she used to be. So, rather than doing that, she chose to focus on the present.

“Indeed. I find playing the part of the incapacitated female to be quite the novelty as well.”

“Aaand there it goes,” he sighed.

“Oh,” she realized. “Clinical talk ruined the mood, didn’t it?”

“Yup.”

“... There is something else bothering you, isn’t there?”

“... Yup.”

“Is it your imminent meeting with the father you recently found out had been lying to you for most of your life?”

“No, it’s because the cafeteria ran out of tea biscuits.”

Her first reaction was to scowl at the detected falsehood. This was intercepted immediately by her fully developed sense of sarcasm. She deduced the intentionally obvious lie as a means of communicating that stating the obvious is not conducive to this conversation. Maggie agreed with this sentiment and started formulating an appropriate response. She came up with four options - the eye-roll-and-sigh, the nod-and-smile, the pretend-she-didn’t-hear-it, and the counter-sarcasm. She determined that the third was the optimum choice since it allowed her to more succinctly address the underlying cause of Joe’s attitude, a conclusion that was reached in less than a third of a second in total.

“I’m here for you,” she said reassuringly.

“I know,” he smiled, then frowned. “By the way, the cafeteria is actually out of tea biscuits.”

“What? How?”

“No idea. There was an announcement about it while you were out.”

“This is unacceptable,” Maggie got upset. “It’s only seventeen-point-three-six minutes to afternoon tea time. How are we supposed to have afternoon tea without biscuits?”

The girl didn’t particularly care about the treats themselves, but she had come to accept that serving afternoon tea with biscuits was the natural order of things.

“Exactly!” Joe agreed with her. “You’d think a British ship would make sure their biscuit reserves are well stocked and- Kelly ate most of them, didn’t she?”

“Indeed.”

“Ah, bugger.”

While this conversation was going on, a section of Maggie’s colossal mind had already invaded the ship’s surveillance systems. Looking at records from the kitchens’ security cameras, she located the secondary cause of this shortage. It would appear one of the staff members failed to properly secure the relevant storage box for interstellar transit. The container drifted up when the artificial gravity was switched off before the jump and then slammed down hard when it kicked back in afterwards. The brittle treats were no doubt smashed to pieces in the process, meaning that afternoon tea time would have to be either cancelled or conducted incorrectly. Unless, of course, Maggie used her powers of molecular manipulation to piece the biscuits back together. Doing so would require a certain amount of time and energy, not to mention it would attract a lot of unnecessary attention. The only question was whether all that bother was worth it just to make her boyfriend a tiny bit happy.

The answer to which was ‘absolutely.’

“Would you like me to resolve the biscuit crisis?” she offered.

“No, it’s fine. We can just get scones instead.”

Maggie wasn’t quite certain what that was, so she looked it up in her mental copy of an online dictionary database. According to that, a scone was a small unsweetened or lightly sweetened cake made from flour, fat, and milk and sometimes having added fruit. She refrained from vocalizing the definition since Joe disliked how ‘robot-y’ she sounded whenever she ‘went full textbook.’ She still occasionally did that whenever she wanted to punctuate her point in an argument, but this wasn’t that kind of conversation.

“Scones are an acceptable alternative to biscuits?” she asked.

“Oh, right, you’ve never had any. They’re alright, yeah. Not as good, but they’ll do in a pinch.”

“I comprehend,” Maggie’s eyes flashed. “In that case I want mine with starberry jam.”

“You know there’s other options than starberry jam, right?”

“I am aware,” she nodded sagely.

“I mean, are you sure you don’t wanna try something else for once?” he suggested.

“Why would I? Starberry jam is my favorite.”

“I know, but if all you have is your favorite you’re gonna get sick of it.”

“If this were the case, then my feelings for you would not grow with each passing day.”

Joe inhaled sharply, clenched his fists, grit his teeth, and looked away, all while his heart rate spiked ever-so-slightly. It was a reaction Maggie had learned to interpret as ‘I can’t believe my eldritch girlfriend is this bloody cute.’ She wasn’t expecting to receive the non-verbal compliment when she stated the truth, but she accepted it anyway.

“So, may I get starberry jam with my scones, please?” she asked merrily.

“Yep,” the man squeaked out.

With that minor hiccup resolved, Maggie was free to spend as much time with Joe as the man felt comfortable with. Which, thankfully for her, was all of it. It also seemed as though having a front-row seat to Kelogh’theryl’s ‘emergency evacuation’ had a positive effect on his astrohodophobia therapy. Since then he no longer showed signs of anxiety or nervousness while stargazing and was able to calmly enjoy the view of the cosmos alongside Maggie. The girl monitored him for a few days to see whether he would relapse. Once she was confident this wouldn’t happen, she decided it was time for one last push.

“Joe, I require a difficult favor of you,” she declared after breakfast.

“Uh, okay?” he responded warily. “I mean, if it’s something I can do then sure, let’s hear it.”

“I wish to take a space walk with you.”

In the past, the man would have instantly and vehemently refused the offer. However, as he was right now, Joe was reassured to know that his safety was twice guaranteed by both modern spacefaring technology and his ‘space wizard’ partner. The prospect of putting on a space suit and stepping out into the void still scared him, but it was a controlled, measured worry rather than irrational panic. The man therefore needed only a few moments to gather enough courage to overcome what was left of his phobia.

“Alright,” he nodded. “Let’s do it.”

The couple resolutely made their way towards one of the airlocks. The ship was currently maintaining high orbit over the planet Crumbstone-7, which meant that passengers were allowed to go for a ‘swim’ should they so choose. Joe and Maggie were given a cutting edge suit and helmet that were so light they would be right at home on a biker. A service automaton triple-checked all the equipment and ensured the lovebirds understood what they were and weren’t supposed to do. Joe’s anxiety slowly but surely rose during this half-hour prep time, to the point where he was finding it hard to focus on the robot’s pre-recorded words. Thankfully the instructions were pretty basic and obvious things such as ‘don’t poke holes in your suit’ and ‘don’t untether the tether.’

With all the checks and mandatory safety lectures done with, Joe and Maggie stood in the relatively cramped airlock. A display on the wall informed them that the air was being pumped out. After a few seconds the lights changed from blue to green as the hydraulic doors opened with an unheard hiss. The man hesitated and wavered, seemingly paralyzed. The girl expected this and grabbed him by the shoulder with a firm squeeze, reminding him that he had nothing to fear. Joe immediately understood her intent and relaxed a bit. He took a few extra breaths to steel himself and kicked towards the void beyond the airlock. He couldn’t help but stiffen up as he smoothly drifted through the threshold. Before he knew it, he was officially out of the ship and floating through space.

And then, as if someone flipped a switch in his head, the shock and anxiety were replaced by a light-hearted sense of freedom. This was aided greatly by how effortless and intuitive moving around in zero gravity turned out to be. All he had to do was think about going in a specific direction or turning around in a certain way, and the suit would do the rest. Its onboard computer would read his thoughts via his implants and then operate the array of tiny jets on his backpack in accordance with his wishes. It could even compensate for any limb-flailing or body-twisting to a great degree. There was no danger of Joe running out of fuel, power, or air, either, as all of those were provided by the ship via the tether tube. That was but one of several redundant systems in place to ensure his safety.

Having witnessed and experienced all these features first-hand was where Joe’s sudden peace of mind came from. He’d been told about all those things before, but his subconscious refused to believe in them until now. With his doubts gone, he was free to dart and roll all over the place like a little kid. He’d experienced this sort of thing many times in virtual reality, but, as per usual, there was something uniquely thrilling about doing it for real. He was so engrossed in it that it took him almost a minute to remember he had a special someone to share his excitement with. He spun around towards Maggie with a mental command, only to freeze once more. He hesitated for a few moments before he finally spoke, though his voice did not reach her. This was only natural since sound did not travel through a vacuum. The suits were outfitted with short-range radios for this exact reason, and The Observer had no difficulty perceiving and deciphering Joe’s signal.

“Maggie? Where is your space suit?” were the words transmitted.

“I slipped out of it,” she telepathically informed him.

“But… why, though?”

“I find it uncomfortable.”

“Ah. Should’ve known.”

He had momentarily forgotten that she had a dislike for helmets since they interfered with her hair-wriggling.

“Would you like me to put it back on?”

Joe paused again as he considered that question. Maggie casually pondered whether this matter really required any mental gymnastics. Ah, no, she knew that face. The man was torn between enforcing his personal preferences and respecting the girl’s wishes. He likely thought that she looked quite spectacular in the form-fitting space suit, judging by the repeated glances he involuntarily threw her while they were still in the airlock. He did that whenever she put on a new outfit that showed off her womanly curves even a little, a pattern that Maggie internally referred to as ‘The Cosplay Effect.’ She certainly appreciated the extra attention, though in this instance she really didn’t feel like wearing that equipment. She would still do so, of course, should he ask it of her.

“No, that’s fine,” was his eventual answer. “You’re perfect just as you are.”

Maggie was once again pleasantly surprised by the unexpected compliment. She didn’t even attempt to suppress the light blush that floated onto her pale cheeks as she drifted closer to her loved one. She offered both hands and Joe grasped them without question or hesitation. She then leaned in and demonstrated her affection and appreciation by planting a kiss on his visor. She would have preferred to make the gesture properly, of course, but this was the most she could do for now. Maggie then sensed a bit of frustration coming off of Joe that she suspected mirrored her own.

“Do you want to go back inside and make out?” she offered.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

And so the couple did just that, though in their haste they neglected to clean Maggie’s lipstick off of Joe’s visor, leaving a very confused technician to wonder how and when that saucy smudge got there. Admittedly, it was far from the strangest thing that had happened on this voyage. Despite Maggie’s best efforts, she was unable to erase all traces of her supernatural activities or her sibling’s unwelcome arrival and unannounced departure. Those leftovers would surely come to the attention of the Supernatural Eviction Agency eventually, but she wasn’t worried about them. It wasn’t as if she had gone on this cruise without their knowledge or permission. The most they could do was ask questions about ‘Kelly,’ which Maggie would answer truthfully and honestly. In fact, she would have already ratted her sibling out if Director Millington hadn’t pushed his luck with that fan club stunt.

So, for once, Maggie allowed herself to cut a few corners and focus on more important things. Like Joe. The man had more or less completely overcome a personal flaw through his own will and determination. She helped, of course, but she wouldn’t dare claim that achievement as her own in any way, shape, or form. More importantly, Joe was finally ready to face his father. Judging from what his mother had told them, Barry Mulligan was forced to work around the clock as part of his sentence. This meant he would most likely be stationed somewhere remote that would be inaccessible without a private shuttle and a fair amount of space walking. Joe would’ve never made that trip if he hadn’t mastered his astrohodophobia. At least, not with enough wits left about him for the heavy conversation that was sure to follow. With that hurdle cleared, the only thing left was to wait until the yacht’s course took them to within spitting distance of Barry Mulligan’s place of indentured servitude.

This was the main reason why Maggie had chosen this particular cruise. The Third British Empire had so many people with disposable allowance and/or income that there was no shortage of tourists wanting to leisurely see the cosmos. This, in turn, meant there were thousands upon thousands of voyages just like this one at any given time. It was almost inevitable at least one of these yachts would have a course that passed through the Marlton system. That said, it was still rather fortunate that a suitable cruise happened to swing by Butterpond-4 so soon after Joe decided to face his fears and confront his father. If not, then he might’ve lost his nerve before a suitable opportunity presented itself. His resolve could still very well waver before The Queen Mary reached Marlton, and Maggie had to be there to encourage and support him all the way through. She couldn’t allow herself to be distracted.

So, when she next returned to her native dimension, Maggie decided to put off checking in on that query she submitted to the Adjudicator. Yes, a notification that the results were in was waiting for her. And yes, she did want to know what consequences - if any - her sibling would suffer. However, Joe’s personal and familial troubles were far more pressing concerns, and Maggie didn’t want to muddle her thoughts with Kelogh’theryl’s shenanigans. That was the reason she chose not to open the message in question.

It definitely wasn’t because she got a bad feeling about it.

That would be ridiculous.

After all, Class-3 entities of order did not subscribe to such flimsy and illogical concepts as ‘bad feelings.’