During the day, I began what I called, to myself, an independent research project on the infonet. At first, I told myself I was simply trying to understand the psychology behind what hadhappened to me. But gradually, my searches became more specific, more focused.
I learned much more about the Collective, about the energy entities that had taken human form. I learned that Alpha, Beta, and Gamma were just three of many such beings, though they were the only ones who had chosen to leave their natural state as aggregations of quantum energy and take on biological life.
And then, late one night in the library, I stumbled across something that made my heart race with a mixture of terror and shameful excitement. It seemed that certain Magisterian scientists thought there might be a way to summon an energy entity and to control it.
The article was buried deep in a medical research database, its classification status reading ‘Declassified’ in green letters that I suspected should have been red. The title made my breath catch: ‘Preliminary Analysis of Quantum Resonance Patterns in Collective Entity Manifestation Events: the Possibility of Summoning.’
I read it once, then twice, my heart pounding harder with each pass. The document began by detailing the first contact between humans and the Collective, describing how the energy beings had responded to certain quantum signatures—specifically, to the focused mental patterns of humans in states of extreme focus.
The scientists had theorized that with the right equipment and the right mental state, a human could potentially summon a new Collective-like entity. They had even outlined a basic protocol before the research had been abruptly terminated and classified.
Classified. But now it was here, accessible to anyone who knew where to look. A mistake, clearly. An error in the automated declassification system.
As I read further, I began to understand why the Magisterian Federation had kept this information secret. The implications were staggering. If anyone could summon these beings, if the technique became widespread, the social order would collapse. Worlds like Hippolyta could potentially create their own defenders, their own power base. Even conquered populations could theoretically use the technique to exercise mind control over their oppressors, since the Collective had demonstrated such abilities—though Alpha, Beta, and Gamma had promised never to use them, and no evidence seemed to exist that they had ever broken that promise.
The article seemed to suggest, though, that energy beings summoned by others might not exercise the same restraint. The power in the galaxy could shift away from Magisteria entirely.
My hands trembled as I read the protocol section for the third time. It required a significant energy source—a fusion reactor, ideally. It required a neural interface to help focus and amplify the summoner’s thoughts. And it required the summoner to enter a state of intense concentration while holding specific mental images.
I sat back in my chair, my mind racing. This was insane. This was dangerous. This was exactly the kind of thing that could get me expelled from the university, or worse.
But it was also… possible.
The dormitory had a small fusion reactor in the basement—standard equipment for student housing, providing power andheat. And in the common room, there was a neural gaming system that several of my dorm mates used regularly. The controller consisted of two electrodes that attached to the player’s temples, reading brain patterns to control the game.
I could do this. I could actually do this.
The question was: should I?
Over the next two days, I couldn’t think about anything else. I reread the article obsessively, memorizing every detail of the protocol the article’s authors had speculated might work. First, concentrate on an image of the galaxy with my location centered. Then hold in mind the purpose for which I wanted to summon the energy being. Then shape the interaction as the entity manifested in real space.
The article warned that the summoner’s mental state would almost certainly heavily influence the nature of the entity that appeared. A person seeking protection might summon a guardian. A person seeking knowledge might summon a teacher.
And a person seeking… what? What was I seeking?
I told myself I just wanted to understand. To prove that I could control what the field trip had unleashed inside me, that I didn’t need the Magisterian version of dominance. I could summon an entity like Alpha but gentler, kinder. One who would help me explore these feelings without the cruelty, without the degradation.
On the third night, I made my decision.
I waited until after midnight, when most of my dorm mates were asleep. I went to the common room and carefully disconnected the neural controller from the gaming console, wrapping theelectrodes and their attached wires around the small control unit. My hands shook as I tucked the device under my arm.
The basement was accessible through a maintenance door near the laundry room. I had been down there before, helping with a repair, so I knew the layout. The fusion reactor sat in its own sealed chamber, humming quietly, providing power to the entire building.
I set up the neural controller on a workbench near the reactor’s control panel, my fingers fumbling with the connections. The reactor’s quantum field generator—normally just used to contain the fusion reaction—would serve as the energy source for the summoning, I hoped.
I sat on a metal stool and attached the electrodes to my temples. They felt cold against my skin, and I shivered despite the warmth of the reactor room.
On my datapad, I pulled up the star chart I had prepared, showing the Hippolytan system at its center, our location marked with precise coordinates. I stared at it, letting the image fill my mind. The galaxy spiraled around us, vast and infinite, and somewhere in that vastness were the energy beings of the Collective, waiting.
I focused on my location, on the exact coordinates of where I sat. I felt the neural controller begin to hum softly, reading my brain patterns, amplifying them.
And then, to my astonishment, I felt something respond.
The reactor’s hum seemed to change pitch, just slightly. The air in the room seemed to thicken, to take on a quality I couldn’t quite name. It was as if something had begun to reach backtoward me from an impossible distance, drawn by my focused thoughts.
Now came the hard part. I needed to hold in mind the purpose for my summoning.
I thought about Alpha, about his imposing presence, his command. But I tried to soften the image in my mind, to make him gentler, more caring. I wanted someone who would understand these urges, who would help me explore them without judgment or cruelty.
