Omphalos

by Harper J. Cole

  “Protecting my crew isn’t your job.”

  “On the contrary. The security of my world is directly compromised by this asset falling into enemy hands. The sole purpose of our organisation is to foil schemes like this, and up until now, we’ve always succeeded. Many’s the night when we’ve risked our lives, protecting those who slumber in peace beneath Old Mother Tree.”

  Hunter didn’t ask for details of the Icebreaker’s past operations. She suspected they may prove unsettling. Instead, she asked, “Where is Gypsy now? Has she been given over to the Anasadan government?”

  “No. While we suspect collusion between the Summer Frost and the official enemy forces, our current intelligence places her on an isolated base of the terrorists.”

  The humans waited for further details; they were not forthcoming. Finally, Sandra Rivers prompted, “Where?”

  Lupa’s eyes, the only visible part of her face, darted swiftly to the airlock door and back again, as though checking that no-one had managed to sneak in behind her. “In my business, we do not let our secrets slip idly. I must ask for something in return.”

  “Name it,” said Hunter, not without trepidation.

  “That you will cooperate fully with us as partners. We desire the defeat of our enemies and the security of Monosade. You desire the return of your officer and the completion of Vitana’s stone. Together we might see all those goals fulfilled, but we must walk a bold path. Join us in the fight against Anasade.”

  Hunter’s worst fears were realised. She shook her head decisively.

  “We’re absolutely not here to take sides in your conflict, nor to elevate one world above the other-”

  “But you have already done so!” Lupa’s whisper became even harsher. “Whether you planned it or not, the alien knowledge that has fallen into Anasadan hands swings the balance of power in their favour. To maintain that balance, you must share that same knowledge with us. Work with our scientists on our weapons technology, Captain. Let’s outfit your vessel with the tools to beat down any defences. You can reclaim your Gypsy by force, take Vitana’s fragments too! All you desire…”

  “Yes, it sounds simple doesn’t it? Just load up with guns and missiles and take what we want. I don’t know much of your history, Lupa, but back on Earth we’ve seen this sort of meddling backfire time and time again. What you propose is the best way to get Gypsy killed, and thousands of others besides. Our answer is no.”

  “Then her fate is sealed, as is yours. Sit here, and wait for the Ana-worms to rain death from the sky!” Lupa leapt agilely to her feet, touched the release on the airlock door, and was through it in a second. By the time Hunter got to her feet and looked through the opening, their visitor was already nowhere to be seen.

  “There’s no dealing with people like that,” said al-Hawsawi reassuringly. “She came in with a vision of the warship Bona Dea, sacking Anasade with herself at the helm. No compromise possible.”

  Hunter looked to the other two women present. “Do you agree? A fruitless avenue?”

  Little looked distracted, but she managed an encouraging smile. Sandra Rivers rubbed slowly at her right temple. The bandage had long gone, but a slight discoloration was still visible even now. “You’ve always been clear on not wanting weapons aboard, Captain,” she said.

  “We’re not that kind of ship.”

  “And your decisions follow logically from that starting point. You did the right thing.”

  Dr. Little spoke, her tones heavy. “So, what next, Miriam?”

  “Well, we’ve got to make the best of it, and trust our own ingenuity,” said Hunter. “I’ll hold a meeting tomorrow, so everyone can put their best ideas on the table. Let’s get a good night’s sleep, and attack the problem with fresh heads in the morning.”

  There was a half-hearted murmur of approval, and the women headed back into Decon.

  Not my most inspiring speech, Hunter conceded inwardly. But what else was there to say? With all the setbacks we’ve had lately, optimism is akin to folly…

  VI

  The last thing to collapse is the surface.

  – Albert Einstein

  Gypsy Cumberland woke at 7:49 on the 123rd day of her captivity. Days, hours and minutes were all Anasadan, of course, each of them similar to their Earth equivalents, but none quite the same. She missed her old clock, and the reassuring certainty of always knowing how many days old she was: twelve thousand five hundred and eight when she was abducted, but the amount of time that had passed since then was impossible to calculate without help from her captors. While Gypsy had continued to grow more comfortable with Dr. Koli, she still felt embarrassed to ask questions that might make her look strange.

  The time read 7:73 when she arose from bed; getting up had taken her 24 minutes local time, 26.8896 minutes Earth time.

  No, she corrected herself. The clock they gave me doesn’t show seconds, so all I know is that it took between 23 and 25 minutes, so in proper time that’s minimum …… 25.7692 minutes, maximum … 28.01 minutes. Yes.

  The precision pleased her, though she was annoyed to then feel compelled the convert the three fractions of minutes she’d just calculated into seconds – they came to 53.376, 46.152 and 0.6 respectively. “Happy now?” she muttered, proceeding to the bathroom.

  After getting through the unpleasantness for which that room was primarily designed, she washed her face and hands, then moved onto her clothing and body. Having now worn the same outfit for well over a hundred days (whether one went by Earth time or Anasade time) even she had to concede that there was a clear hygiene issue. To combat this, she used a small sponge to scrub the fabric thoroughly both inside and out with soap, then again with water. She could see no reason why this shouldn’t be effective.

  To conclude her morning ritual, she tapped the mirror seven times for luck. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Good.

  Gypsy passed back into her room, avoiding looking at the clock in case she felt compelled to carry out any more calculations. What will I do this morning? she wondered. Watch some television? The thought made her feel strangely uncomfortable – she’d been getting that a lot lately when she tried to relax, a heavy feeling inside of her, a kind of dread, as though she was wasting time while something terrible drew near.

  “No? Okay then, how about a stroll?” Yes, that was a good idea. A walk all the way down to the underground river and back. She might even have tried jogging it for the exercise, but was afraid of the Anasadans laughing at her. Fine. I should have plenty of time before Dr. Koli gets here for breakfast. She comes at 9:10, and it’s 8:18 now, so that’s 72 minutes local time … Ah, no! Why did I look at the clock? Now I have to work out, erm, 71 local minutes minimum, 72 local minutes maximum.

  “Shut up.”

  So that’s 79.5484 Earth minutes minimum.

  “Shut up.”

  80.6688 Earth minutes maximum. And converting the fractions into seconds…

  “Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP. I mean it!” The urge to multiply 60 by 0.5484 itched at her brain for several seconds, but by gritting her teeth and pressing her fists to her temples, Gypsy was able to see it off. “That’s better,” she declared. “And now I’m going for a walk. There’s still plenty of time…”

  Gypsy narrowly avoided taking another look at the clock. I’m really going to have to ask them to move that thing away, she decided, as she left her cell (the door had long since ceased to be locked) and set off in the direction of the waterfall.

  She didn’t get far. A group of four Anasadans were coming the other way, led by Commander Ayakopi. One of his underlings was pushing a trolley filled with what looked like medical equipment. Dr. Koli was there as well, grim-faced, wheeling a chair along in front of her.

  The chair had restraining straps on the arms and legs.

  “Lutapa ma ro primonan,” snapped Ayakopi. Gypsy’s Matan had improved to the point where she could understand the instruction: ‘Get back in your room’. She complied.

  Mayb
e the chair’s for Colonel Matha, and they just want me out of the way, Gypsy thought hopefully, but it was no surprise when the group followed her back inside. Ayakopi shut the door with a clang and told her to sit down in the wheelchair, his intense glare making it clear that this was no suggestion. Gypsy again complied at once, hoping that meek surrender might make him take pity on her. Koli touched her lightly on the head, then moved to the restraining straps, which she began to fasten, not to a painful level of tightness, but to one which gave Gypsy no immediate prospects of leaving. “It’s going to be fine,” the doctor said.

  No, it’s not. They’re going to torture me, and I’m going to submit. Well, I guess I’m lucky it took them this long. I’ll just try to hold out for five minutes, at least. Make a fight of it. Five local minutes, let’s say: in Earth minutes that’s … ah …

  But her adrenaline was kicking in now, and she couldn’t concentrate well enough for even that simple calculation.

  Koli stepped back from the chair, though she remained at Gypsy’s shoulder. A display of solidarity, perhaps? Gypsy noticed that her right arm had been left free, and that pencil and paper sat on a board by her hand.

  Ayakopi stepped forward and began to speak – or rather, to shout. Gypsy recalled deciding that his previous show of anger had been an act. Listening to this reprise performance, she wasn’t so sure. His words were too rapid for her to understand, but the anger behind them ripped into her like a shower of razorblades.

  Koli provided a translation which Gypsy felt quite sure had been toned down for her benefit.

  “The commander is disappointed that you show no interest in helping us, despite the good treatment you have received here. He asks you to reconsider. If you just explain the properties of what you call the Kinkawa equations, he will be satisfied for now. Otherwise he will feel regretfully compelled to increase your motivation.”

  “What will he do?” asked Gypsy, her voice trembling. If only she had Annie’s courage!

  Koli smiled sadly. “Please do as he asks,” she said.

  Gypsy shook her head, not daring to look at Ayakopi for his reaction. She heard the commander pull a chair over so as to seat himself opposite her, then bark a quick order at Koli. The doctor did nothing for a moment; even Gypsy could easily discern the hostility between the two of them. Then Koli reluctantly crossed to the trolley and retrieved a syringe, which she inserted into a bottle of clear liquid, drawing in a small amount.

  “We call this a mind loosener,” she explained, crossing over to Gypsy’s left side. “It will make you feel happier to talk. Your constitution is frailer than ours, so I’ll just be giving you a low dosage. It shouldn’t do you any harm.”

  Gypsy would have preferred “won’t” to “shouldn’t”. She turned her head to avoid seeing the needle going in.

  “Please just relax your arm,” said Koli. “I don’t want to miss the vein.”

  “Sorry.” Gypsy forced her trembling limb to go still with an effort. She felt sick, and her stomach was gurgling unpleasantly. All things considered, the needle going in didn’t hurt as much as she expected. There was a quick pricking, then Koli dabbed at her arm, taped a wad of what felt like cotton to it.

  “Let me know if you feel any physical symptoms. There should be none, except a slight light-headedness that will soon fade.”

  “Okay.”

  Koli moved to stand at Gypsy’s left side, presumably so that she wouldn’t obstruct the mathematician’s writing hand. “Tell me more about yourself, Gypsy. In our conversations, it’s usually me that talks. I’ve told you about my home and why I love it. How about yours? Do you have snow on Earth? Mountains, trees and rivers?”

  “Y-yes. I mostly stayed indoors though.”

  “Why?”

  Gypsy put her free hand to her brow; there was a sheen of sweat there. She felt light-headed, as promised. “I was afraid.”

  “Of what?”

  “I’m not sure. Afraid of losing control, of the unknown, of … people. People, yes. Always so confident, understanding everything about the world without even trying. I don’t belong out there, they’d only hate me or pity me. But I do want to go.”

  “Do you have a husband?”

  “I like women. Not that it matters.”

  “Is there a special woman for you, then?”

  “No. Yes. On the ship. Annie.”

  “Annie with the red hair?”

  “Yes, yes. Flaming red to catch a moth or kill a shadow. I love her. I wanted to tell her but … I could never say the words.”

  “But you did just say them.”

  “Did I?” Gypsy was surprised. “Yes. How could it be so easy?”

  “Don’t worry about it. Everything’s alright.” Koli reached across and lightly touched Gypsy’s right arm. The doctor looked strange, her face in razor-sharp focus while the rest of her was blurred and obscure.

  “Are you ill?” Gypsy asked.

  “Everything’s alright,” Koli repeated. “I wonder, would you like to talk about Kinkawa equations?” She rustled the paper by Gypsy’s hand.

  “Yes, yes, yes of course, yes.” Naturally she wanted to talk about them, they were very interesting. Why had she ever been reluctant? Very strange. “I’ll write using English characters, if that’s okay? We can prove existence and smoothness at the same time, which is a good starting point. I think the mistake a lot of people made was to try and build off the Navier-Stokes equations, but, erm…”

  That’s what I did, sitting in my room. I was four thousand four hundred and seventy-three days old. Mum was downstairs, humming…

  “…humming something – I can’t remember what. You see, turbulence and propulsion are linked, but it’s superficial in mathematical terms. Look, let’s put down the basic equations. I guess you know about conservation of mass and energy already? Anyway, so we’ve got mass, gravity at start and finish of thrust, then there’s the thrust itself…”

  Sorry, I’m explaining this really badly. Annie could do a much better job. I wish you’d kidnapped her as well. Or instead. God, what a terrible thing to think, I thought I was supposed to be in love with her?

  “Maybe it’s just sexual, really. I often fantasise about her. Honestly, I’m disgusting, I think. Anyway…”

  Yes, anyway, let’s break each of these down. Based on observed data, we can…

  Koli interrupted her flow. “Fantasise about who, Gypsy?”

  “Annie. Wait, how did…?”

  How did they know I was thinking about Annie? Can they read my mind, is that what this drug does? Answer me!

  “I mean, answer me. Please. I meant please, please answer me, I’m forgetting my manners, ever so sorry.”

  Koli’s face swam across her vision, eyes terrifyingly detailed, with every red line a river of blood. She sounded concerned. “Gypsy, it’s important that you focus on the math.”

  “Maths, maths! Say maths, please! But it’s right there, look…” Gypsy pointed to the page, which must now be filled with her equations. “Wh-What? What?”

  She was confounded to discover that her work had vanished from the page. In its place was an untidy mass of words, which had somehow been crafted in an uncanny facsimile of her own handwriting.

  stop stop stop get out get away don’t go there no no no no no stop danger danger danger get away please anywhere else my heart don’t not real be good good get out stay out out stop stop stop stop stop stop be careful danger haha nononononononono no no maths maths maths

  “Did you do this?” she asked Koli accusingly. The words had no sooner left her mouth than her right hand began scrawling a new message across the page, quite without her permission. Danger, it said. Don’t think, it added.

  If I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it. Gypsy tried to bring her left hand over to stop her right, but found it was still bound to the chair. This surprised her – with all the craziness of the past couple of minutes, she would have expected her restraints to have turned into rainbows or snakes.


  “Fine, well I just won’t look then. I’ll close my eyes and think about something else. There’s nothing wrong with thinking.”

  Aware only dimly that Koli was shouting and pressing another syringe to her flesh, Gypsy closed her eyes. She had the strangest impression of standing on the edge of a precipice and looking down.

  There’s nothing wrong with thinking, no. I was thinking about Annie and Mum. I love both of them, and I’ll see them soon. Won’t I? Yes. Annie will come to rescue me. No veil can dim her light. No.

  Then, when I die, I’ll meet Mum in Heaven. That’s where the good people go.

  Oh.

  Oh…

  No, stop.

  What if…

  Stop. Think of something else.

  What if I’m not one of the good people?

  Of course I’m good. Aren’t I? I’ve never hurt anyone. Not directly. Maybe by what I’ve not done? Hiding away in my room, wasting my gifts. Maybe by my thoughts, how I’ve lusted after Annie.

  I want to go to Heaven.

  But what if I find … Hell, instead?

  No. It doesn’t exist. Heaven, yes. Not Hell. There couldn’t be anything so horrible in creation.

  How do I know? If it’s real, who goes there?

  Don’t think about it. I’m going to Heaven. Heaven, Heaven, Heaven. It’s Heaven for me.

  I just need to be sure. It’s so important. I just need to think about it for a bit until I’m sure.

  “Gypsy?”

  “Erm, yes?” She opened her eyes; they cleared surprisingly quickly. Dr. Koli was standing over her. Commander Ayakopi was there too, looking strangely shaken.

  “The drug we gave you is being broken down now,” said Koli. “You should soon be able to control your thoughts again.”

  Too late. What’s been thought can’t be unthought.