Zadek had been transported into an unfamiliar time/space-band.

A new reality. Can they see me? he asked Omiran.

Yes, came the answer.

Blue hills surrounded him. Soft, bluish mist. Tall trees – oaks, pines, their foliage dark blue. Soft grass. A village to the side. Eight-legged horses. A stream nearby. Sounds – chatter.

Auxiliary power circuits started feeding his neural net. Heightened senses. Population, 310. 184, male. Non-identifiable structural organization markers.

Since he'd become an 05 and had thus moved into a superior state of clock-brain prevalence, his abilities had been improved.

Villagers' expected reaction to visitors, mostly neutral. Reaction to seeing an Omirion, unclear in absence of a precedent.

He started walking along a pathway. The village remained to the left, in a shallow valley surrounded by hills. A carnivorous, 6-feet-tall bird resembling a pelican flew above the tree line, making a sonorous, high-pitched sound. Others responded nearby.

Wildlife species, 7,000. Analysis area covered, 72,000 square miles. Surprise in his eyes.

Five males approached, spears in hands.

Bow low, transmitted Omiran. Say nothing.

Battle cries were produced. Some sort of ritual, thought Zadek.

Eyes on the ground. They're establishing your level of familiarity.

That doesn't make sense.

To you, perhaps.

The battle cries went on. In circles, the men approached.

They'll challenge you to battle. Be non-responsive.

Alright.

Still producing their cries, they drew nearer and poked him with the ends of their spears, repetitively and in a circle, each taking the lead in their own time. At times, a blade – short and razor-sharp – was zooming fleetingly by his arms.

Villagers drew near at the calls of the men. Children, women, men, all joined together in the calls.

Bow lower.

Zadek complied.

Remember your clock origins.

Why?

They want to know, Omiran explained.

How can they?

You'd be surprised.

The battle cries were dying out.

Recall your childhood in an essence.

Once more, Zadek complied.

Go into that of adulthood.

His trust in Omiran's guidance was complete.

Express your feelings for this land.

Zadek focused deeply on his appreciation.

No more battle cries. A presence before him. Male. He could only see the man's blue-shaded, barefoot legs.

"Ena-ena," the man before him said in a deep voice.

Bow lower in response.

Zadek complied.

Presences were gathering around him. The villagers were drawing near.

"Hee'Taa!"

He's telling you his name. Give him your own.

"Zadek."

Attempts to pronounce it, all unsuccessful. Zadek was about to repeat it.

Don't! said Omiran. Give them time.

"Za-De'ek!" called someone.

Instinctively, Zadek nodded.

A surge in cries, renewed.

Stand still and wait.

It was a ritual. The villagers were joining together in their cries, lifting their voices to the sky, calling around them, into the trees, hitting the ground with their feet and spears. Waves of motion – waves of sound.

They're dancing, Zadek thought.

They're celebrating your arrival, responded Omiran.

When do I move?

Not yet. Interrupting means refusing.

Alright.

The dance went on.

Phase two. Physical contact.

Someone touched his arm. Another hit his shoulder – not to harm. Good balance.

You're strange to them, but they've accepted your strangeness, said Omiran.

Some were drawing arcs in the ground, making loud sounds.

They're announcing your presence.

To whom?

To the land.

Brief, explosive sounds were heard.

Peeko drums, said Omiran. Relax.

Patiently, Zadek waited, eyes on the ground.

"Hum, har! Hum, har! Hum, har!"

The entire village joined in the beckoning in perfect sync. They carried on, and though Zadek could not see, they were progressively lifting their arms, time and again, sounds synced to motion.

They are inviting you to rise, translated Omiran. Do it slowly, and let their leader, the man who stands before you, be the first to see your eyes.

The golden clock-wheels irises. He understood.

"Hum, har! Hum, har! Hum, har!"

Explosive beats. Arms rising depicted with the corners of his eyes.

"Hum, har! Hum, har! Hum, har!"

Zadek was lifting his head. Their eyes were about to meet. Heart rate, intense.

Be brave, but non-conflicting.

They met eye to eye. The village leader, his eyes a very dark, yet clear midnight blue, was slightly startled. He frowned. No gesture.

Keep rising.

Others could see his eyes, too. Silence befell those very few.

Do not be startled.

Then some called out. Higher pitch. Prolonged interval.

The leader drew a step nearer, curious – still frowning – to check his irises.

You're safe, announced Omiran.

The leader's face was very near. Vitality, strength, rawness were all embedded in his eyes. His skin was multi-toned deep blue. Dark eyebrows still arched in a frown. He made a cry.

Clock-brain prevalence measured hostility degree as being low.

He senses you have powers. Let him see.

Another cry. Hee'Taa was testing him. Spear moved agilely into the other hand. The slightest twitch in Zadek's eyes. Instinctual clock-brain prevalence, heightened.

Let him.

Spear danced again between the leader's hands, then cut the air by Zadek's ear. Inquisitive gaze. Like a field around his mind, Zadek's clock-brain prevalence measured the angles of their bodies and the spear's trajectory.

Good. He now knows.

With a loud battle cry, spear-hand bolting into the sky, then hitting twice with its other end into the ground, Hee'Taa announced the ritual's end.

Next they led him into the village. Walking down the hill among the trees, they reached the huts below. Zadek spotted a circle made of stone, ash in its midst.

What is its purpose? he asked Omiran.

The bonding pit, he said. Used for social gatherings.

I see.

Interact with them more than you do with me, Omiran advised.

I do not speak their tongue, nor know their customs.

Yet here you are, in the village of Kuuleehki. Use your higher senses.

Omiran had to ground Zadek, for those words had triggered a subtle reactivation of the portal. He regained his balance.

Stay here. You cannot get a better chance to get to know them.

How do I proceed?

Logic and non-logic combined hold the answer.

Hee'Taa was walking next to him. The villagers dispersed along the huts, but maintained a structure. Then Hee'Taa beckoned, signalling with his hand, and they walked up to some rectangular stones.

Hee'Taa stopped, gazed round, producing a low-tone sound, inviting all to sit. One by one, they sat on the stones and on the ground. Some of the stones were left vacant. Hee'Taa still stood before Zadek, but turned.

He wants to see where you will sit.

Where should I?

The choice is yours.

Zadek glanced at the ground and sat down. Reactions from around: low-tone laughs.

You're one of them, Omiran explained. Each choice is a statement.

Somehow, he smiled. It felt right. He gazed up at the leader, whose dark, long mane was gathered in knots at the back. Hee'Taa's eyes were upon him – one gaze around at the tribe to check they were all seated – and the tall man sat next to Zadek, spear on his lap, looking into their visitor's eyes.

He appeared to be reflecting on how to communicate.

With a gesture, Hee'Taa pointed to his own mind, fingertips gathered and pressed into his temple. Zadek was paying attention. Hee'Taa grabbed his own elbow, as if to point to his arm, whose extremities were pressing into his temple.

Zadek reflected on what the gesture could mean, then did the same: fingertips joined, he pressed into his temple.

Palms open, fingers spread out, Hee'Taa was – he felt – asking something, but what?

Explore.

Omiran would not answer.

Alright, thought Zadek, then searched his mind. Palms open, he touched his head, then turned them outward, to face all his surroundings and the sky. He repeated the gesture a number of times.

Hee'Taa pointed to his own eyes.

Zadek gave a nod. He pondered briefly – touched his forearm – an immediate stir around him–

Be careful, transmitted Omiran. Invite him not to battle.

Zadek lowered his head and looked at the ground. The tribe leader nodded. Then he looked around some more. He was searching for a child. He pointed to a boy and called him.

The child stood up and came, fearless and calm.

Zadek pointed to the child's leg, then spread his arms about its length. He made sure Hee'Taa understood. Then pointing to his own leg, extended his arm, thus indicating the difference in length.

Everyone was watching.

Zadek pointed to the child's leg, drawing his arms again to indicate its length, after which he pointed to his own leg once – a short zigzag of pointing between the two – and finally he pointed to his eyes.

He doubted he had made himself clear.

A new attempt: he pointed to a fingernail, gesturing to its ability to grow in length, then back to his eyes.

No response.

He pointed to a stone, then to his eyes, gesturing to mean that they were not the same.

Finally, an assenting nod. The tribe leader explained. Nods all around. Zadek could only hope he'd made himself clear.

Hee'Taa pointed to a stone – the same one – then to Zadek's eyes – to the child's leg – and after that to Zadek's.

The Umbarian was growing even less sure that they had verily got his message and kept searching his mind.

'Logic and non-logic combined hold the answer,' Omiran had said.

Good. Zadek leaned towards the child, looked him in the eyes, pointed to his own, then – head slightly lowered – pointed to those of another man's, his spear resting on his lap; back to his own – to the child's – to the man's – and then again to his.

"They're part of me," he said.

Sudden motion. The tribe was drawing near to hear him speak.

"Zadek," he repeated his name, pointing to himself. "Eyes. Organic. Time. I am a Son of Time." How do I explain this to them?

Creatively, said Omiran.

He heaved a deep sigh.

"I am an Omirion of ClockWorld."

It felt pointless.

'All ways are points in becoming,' he recalled Omiran say. 'All ways lead to now.' That, and also that this was a journey.

He connected to the nearest Time-band, absorbed information from within it, turned to Hee'Taa and said,

"U-A-Ka."

Murmurs all around.

Fingertips gathered, he pointed to his mind, then waved his hand as if to indicate time passed. The tribe leader drew nearer, even more curious now that Zadek had revealed he knew the name of their former leader.

Understanding the gesture that Zadek had used, Hee'Taa drew an even larger arc, as if to ask, Who before U-A-Ka?

Zadek knew. "Uiiaa."

Murmurs, cries, and stirs.

Hee'Taa hit his chest to point to himself. "Uiiaa," he said the name, drawing a spiral in the air. A louder cry.

Uiiaa was his mother, explained Omiran. The spiral signifies his ancestral lineage. They are one.

Being an 05, Zadek could make an attempt to connect to two distinct moments in time simultaneously: one was the one they were sharing and the other would, if successful, find Uiiaa. A vision was quickly forming. He pleaded for support from Omiran.

Enough with this, his Maker advised. Express your gratitude and friendship. You cannot explain what an Omirion is more than you already have.

Recalling their initial communication and interrupting his attempt, Zadek focused on feeling gratitude, hand on his heart, then pointing non-specifically at all of them. He centered more steadily into the feeling each time.

In Hee'Taa's eyes, Zadek could see how clearly he had understood that.

"Good."

Somehow, Zadek's thoughts, when searching for the memory of a dear friend, whereby he could also transmit his friendship, managed to find the dearest one of all: his elder brother, Amyko – a surge in emotions – brotherly care and trust – then soaring grief as the memory of his brother's death filled his mind – tears in his eyes – he felt overpowered, his search for feeling having found the deepest one yet – his eyes cleared a bit – then lifting them, he glanced at the tribe leader before him, whose deep, midnight blue eyes knew tears themselves.

Now you have shown true friendship, transmitted Omiran.