I felt the warmth spreading through my blood vessels, easing my pain. Through heavy eyes I gazed up at the octagonal holes in the ceiling, watching with amusement as they started to spin.

I must have slept for some time, because it was dark when I awoke. We were in the main cabin of an aerial transport, the leader immersed in reading my prophecies, which he had recovered from my cell, recorded in a series of word gusts on a transmitter scroll.

He acknowledged that I was awake. “You are Avi Socha ben Amram.”

“And you are Zaphenath Paneah. I remember you from our days in the science academy.”

“And I remember your theories on soul searching that got you expelled.” He motioned to the scroll. “May I?”

I nodded, finding the strength to sit up for the first time in a month.

He selected a recording I had made before weakness had replaced my anger.

Epithet to an Extinct Race

Beneath violet skies and silent screams,
and shadowed faces
fleeing burning streams;
whose shorelines danced with lifeless limbs
and hallowed halls
and hope turned grim.

Scorched by greed.
Death laughs.

Lies and smiles
and justice without trials,
wrapped in bundles of hope
and no one can cope
except we did.

Who asked you to thicken
our air until it was rendered unbreathable,
to poison our food, to safeguard the inconceivable?

We did.

In the end of times, when an uprising was needed, we ignored the call. The victim was its own executioner; the seed destroyed the soil; our hatred taught a child. The caldera was left to boil.

In an epithet to an extinct race, only ignorance shall reign forever.

For several silent moments he reflected upon my words. Then he walked over and sat on the floor before me, a gesture of humility. “The Miketz shall arrive in less than a month. Its eruption shall destroy all life remaining on this planet. A team of scientists from the twelve tribes have been laboring in secrecy for many years on a means to escape not just the Miketz but our star system altogether. For weeks now they have shared the harsh reality of their failure with a dream that appears to point to you as the one who holds the key to their success. You are responsible for this?”

“I am.”

“Translate the vision. Tell me what you think you know.”

“I know your scientists have created a propulsion system capable of travelling faster than light. I also know there is a flaw in the design that affects the electromagnetic field. As a result, the anti-gravity vortex isn’t strong enough to provide inertial shielding. Without it, your ships won’t be able to survive transdimensional flight. Like the Council’s fleet, you will be stuck in this star system until your supplies run out and you perish.”

“And you possess a solution to this challenge?”