Terra's World

by Mitch Benn

  - History, said Pktk.

  Fthfth groaned. - Not you and your history texts again! Not all wisdom is to be found in your crumbly old military memoirs, you know! This problem is happening here and now, not on some battlefield in the twenty-fifth era!

  - Not military history this time, said Pktk, natural history. There’s a database of every planet that has ever been surveyed – by this Preceptorate or any other institution that came before it, going back for eras and eras and spanning the whole galaxy. There are records of the position, dimensions, mass, composition, every physical detail of every planet in existence or that’s ever BEEN in existence.

  - How will that help? squeaked Fthfth.

  Pktk pointed at the image of the Black Planet on the screen. - Whatever that is, if it is actually a planet, then it’s on that database somewhere. If we can find out WHICH planet it is, then we can figure out what happened to it to turn it into that . . . thing. Then we might actually know what we’re dealing with.

  - And what if it’s not a planet? said Billy quietly. What if it’s just some vast planet-sized weapon, left over from some ancient space war? It certainly seems to work like a weapon.

  - Well, if it’s not in the database, we’ll know, won’t we, said Pktk simply. Process of elimination.

  - It’s a start, said Terra. And it’s the closest thing we’ve had to an actual idea all day. How do we access this database?

  - Difficult, said Pktk, if we can’t request it from the Source.

  - Yes, frowned Fthfth. Is anybody else getting REALLY annoyed about the Source being down?

  3.13

  - Go away, murmured the Gfjk-Hhh.

  The door to his chambers tinkled again. The Gfjk thrashed around in his sleep-well. - I said GO AWAY, or I’ll have you thrown into the Gshkth . . .

  Oh yes, he thought. No more Scary Gshkth, by order of me. Gzzks.

  Miserably, the Gfjk deactivated his sleep-well and unlocked his door. It was Wffk. Of course it was Wffk. He was getting a bit tired of seeing Wffk.

  - I’m so sorry to disturb you, Luminescence, but I thought you should see this, stammered Wffk.

  REALLY tired of seeing Wffk. What to do with him, in the absence of Scary Gshkth?

  - Several citizens reported seeing something odd in the night sky. I realise the observatory was closed down by Luminescent Decree, but . . .

  Feed him to something? Like what? Wild znks? How do I get hold of wild znks at this time of night?

  - I felt that the phenomenon merited closer investigation, so . . .

  No, far too much hassle. AND dangerous. Once the znks had eaten Wffk, then what, eh? See, when you’re a leader you have to think about these things.

  - I found one of the College of Astroscopers in the Reformatory, Luminescence, and I set him to work . . .

  Shove him off the top of the Forum! That was it. Yes. Come up here a moment, Wffk. Now, look down there . . . Whoops! Splat.

  - . . . and he has reported that the object . . .

  No, no, not the Forum building, far too low. High enough to do the job, obviously, but not high enough to be fun watching him go. Something higher.

  - Wffk, old thing, what’s the tallest building in Hrrng? asked the Gfjk chirpily.

  - What, Luminescence? I’m afraid I don’t know. I could find out?

  Hang on, whatever that was that Wffk was on about, it sounded like it might have been a bit important.

  - I’m sorry, Wffk, I wasn’t listening to a word you were saying. Could you repeat it, please?

  - Certainly, Luminescence. A mysterious object has been sighted in the night sky. It appears to be a rogue planet. It is completely black and featureless . . .

  The Gfjk suddenly remembered how tired he was. - And what does this have to do with me?

  Wffk coughed apologetically. - Forgive me, Luminescence . . . but there is an old legend I recall hearing as a child.

  The Gfjk perked up. - Legend, you say? Nothing wrong with legends, Wffk. Very useful things if used correctly. Let’s hear this legend.

  Wffk related the legend that he remembered from his youth. And as the Gfjk listened, his eyes opened wider and wider.

  3.14

  - Wow. That’s actually very clever, mused Fthfth.

  - Well, we know he’s not stupid, said Terra. Crazy, but not stupid. What exactly has he done?

  Fthfth was holding up her slate for the others to see. Reams of characters raced across it. Billy tried looking at the display and got an almost instant headache. Even if those had been Earth numerals, he wouldn’t have been able to make any sense of the hurtling figures. As it was, he found himself unpleasantly reminded of the swirly colours you saw when you poked your fingers in your eyes.

  - What is it? asked Pktk.

  - Look at this, said Fthfth. I sent a little data-parcel to zip round the Source as far as it will go. I can track it ’cos it’s me who sent it; I’m not trying to extract any information. And wherever it tries to go, it’s getting blocked. It’s like the Source is full of tiny custodians, turning it away from every place it wants to get into.

  Billy had a flash of understanding and seized upon it. - So the Gfjk’s given the whole Source a virus or something?

  - It’s cleverer than a virus, said Fthfth, it’s more active, more self-aware. It’s some sort of artificially intelligent program, overriding all the security protocols it finds and substituting its own. She looked up from the slate. This explains why EVERYTHING has stopped, including all the long-range transmissions. Everyone’s been trying to solve the wrong problem – they’ve been trying to figure out how the Gfjk was jamming the signals. But he wasn’t; he’d just found a way to persuade the transmitters not to send the signals in the first place!

  Terra had been listening intently; so that was why she hadn’t heard anything from Fnrr for so long. With a stab of panic and guilt, she remembered Lbbp. In spite of her friends’ doubts, she just knew that he was still alive, although at the mercy of the Gfjk. As soon as she could find an excuse to slip away, she’d set off to find him. She had no idea where to start, but she WOULD find him.

  Fthfth went on, - Of course, he probably didn’t come up with this on his own. He’ll have had the best programmers in the nation working on it under threat of punishment . . . If we could find them, they might know how to get rid of it.

  Billy interjected. - Erm, I don’t want to be the voice of doom here, but I wouldn’t have thought the Gfjk would take the risk of keeping them around. I reckon as soon as they were finished he’d have . . .

  He let the silence hang.

  Pktk had been deep in thought but now spoke. - He missed one of the nation’s best programmers, though, didn’t he? My father. Let me show you some REAL programming. He produced his own slate. Here, said Pktk. This is what my father was working on just after the G’grk withdrew. Remember why they’d invaded in the first place?

  Terra remembered. She would always remember. Sh’shk’s shrill voice, declaiming, - We will harness your space-bending technology and make it our own. We will set out and take the G’grk’s gifts of purity and death to all the worlds of the universe!

  - To achieve interstellar travel and invade other planets, she said simply, although Billy noticed her shudder.

  - Right, said Pktk. And it was decided that we couldn’t allow that to happen at any cost. He turned to Terra. The thing is, after you went back to Rrth, it was a tense time. No one was sure if the ceasefire would hold. So the Forum authorised a secret project. And this was it. Pktk held up his own slate now. It showed a spiral of characters, twisting around itself.

  - This, said Pktk, is called the Off Button. Just a few lines of three-dimensional code. If it’s loaded into any system anywhere, it rips right through the whole Source in a matter of blips, smashing through security protocols and wiping out EVERYTHING.

 
Terra’s nose wrinkled. - Why have you got a copy of it, then?

  Pktk smiled. - I helped Father out with some of the programming, he said.

  Billy thought he might even be keeping up with this bit. - So in case of an invasion, you upload that, and it destroys the whole inter— I mean, the whole Source?

  Pktk beckoned him over. - Yes and no, he said. Look here, at the penultimate spiral of code. It’s the REALLY secret part. It wipes out the whole Source – but only for ONE ORBIT. The Source would look dead, but it would just be dormant. After one orbit – by which time, the idea was, the invaders would have given up and gone home – everything restores itself.

  Fthfth was amazed - Why didn’t I know about this?

  - That’s what secret means, Fthfth, said Pktk. Nobody knew.

  Fthfth frowned. - I HATE not knowing things.

  Pktk had begun tapping away on his slate. - Now, if I can just isolate that penultimate spiral, and change one thing. . .

  - Which one thing? asked Terra.

  - The time frame, said Pktk, his brow furrowed with concentration. I’m taking ‘one orbit’ out and replacing it with ‘sixty-four blips’.

  Terra’s eyes lit up with excitement. - So we load this into the Source, everything goes blank for sixty-four blips then comes back? And the Gfjk’s blocking program?

  - Should be purged during the restarting process, said Pktk. We’ll have control back.

  Billy snorted. He stifled a titter. He couldn’t contain himself. He guffawed. The others stared at him in confusion.

  - Are you all right? asked Terra.

  - Yeah I’m all right, said Billy, weeping with laughter, it’s just . . .

  - What? demanded Fthfth.

  - You’re going to switch it off and switch it back on again, hooted Billy, before collapsing, helpless with mirth.

  - Why is that funny? asked Pktk.

  3.15

  - Where are you taking me? asked Lbbp. No reply came.

  Lbbp hadn’t been able to take more than three or four steps in the same direction for an orbit, so when he awoke to find himself being hauled to his feet by two custodians, shoved through the cell door (the crystal barrier having slid silently away) and dragged along the dark corridor, his legs had great difficulty keeping up.

  The spiral staircase posed a problem, dragging-wise; after a moment’s thought, the custodians decided on a push-pull technique; one going ahead of Lbbp and pulling him upwards, the other shoving him from behind. After that there came another corridor, then a heavy door, and then . . .

  - Welcome, Deceiver, to MISSION CONTROL!

  Lbbp blinked at the perfectly normal – but to him, blinding – light. As his eyes adjusted, he began to make out his surroundings. Wait, he thought, have I been right underneath the Forum the whole time? And why is there a dungeon under the Forum?

  As the room swam more clearly into focus, Lbbp saw that it wasn’t really the Forum any more. The shell of the building was still recognisable, but that was about all. No delegates, no Chancellor, just an assortment of bizarrely dressed courtiers and off-duty custodians lounging on the benches. At the far end of the central aisle, there stood what had been the Chancellor’s chair, but which had now been decorated with seemingly random bits of precious metal and gemstones, turning it into a gaudy throne.

  On this throne sat the Gfjk-Hhh, semi-resplendent in his now rather shabby green and gold robes and lopsided brass helmet. He beckoned Lbbp towards him; Lbbp, still in the grip of his two escorts, had no choice but to advance.

  In the centre aisle itself, a curious jumble of computers and other machinery was being installed by nervous-looking technicians. And above all this, dominating the room, a huge visualiser screen was hanging precariously from the ancient stonework.

  Lbbp blinked and answered the Gfjk. - Mission Control, you say? Dare I ask what the mission might be?

  The Gfjk leapt to his feet and bounded over to meet him. - I did say, didn’t I? I did say my mission would be revealed to me?

  Lbbp thought back to their last conversation. - I do seem to recall that— he began.

  The Gfjk cut him off. - BEHOLD! he cried, gesturing triumphantly towards the giant visualiser.

  Nothing happened.

  - I said BEHOLD! repeated the Gfjk, casting a steely glance at one of the nervous-looking technicians, who frantically activated the screen.

  There’s another one for the Gshkth Pit, thought the Gfjk. Oh NO, no Scary Gshkth, NO SCARY GSHKTH any MORE. Must remember that. Mind you, he thought on, once I pull this off I’ll be able to have Scary Gshkth twice a day, as well as Scary Dfsh, Scary Dks-Wks, Scary Pretty-Much-Anything-I-G’shbbing-Well-Like, and they’ll LOVE me for it, because I . . .

  The Gfjk became aware of the fact that Lbbp was standing waiting for him to say something, so reluctantly he yanked his mind back to the here and now.

  - From the stars, Deceiver. Revelation from the stars. See, my quest got impatient waiting for me. My quest sought ME out! How about that? He gestured again towards the visualiser.

  Lbbp peered up at the giant screen. It showed a view of deep space, and in its centre – what? A disc of pure blackness. What was that?

  - The Black Planet, said the Gfjk reverentially. The celestial harbinger of death. The destroyer of worlds. It’s found me, Deceiver. It’s found me. The one it’s been looking for all these eras. Its journey is over.

  Lbbp’s mind, still adjusting to so much stimulation after cycles of darkness and silence, struggled to assimilate all this new information. He had a vague recollection of reading about an ancient legend that told of a rogue Black Planet which brought devastation to any world which encountered it.

  As Lbbp looked, the screen switched from a live image of the planet to a diagram showing its distance from Fnrr. It was less than a day away.

  - What do you think, Deceiver? asked the Gfjk.

  Lbbp pondered for a moment, then replied, - What do I think? I think I’ve had just about enough of ancient legends.

  The Gfjk-Hhh smiled. - I wanted you to be here, Deceiver. You have to witness the completion of our project. I couldn’t have done it without you, you know.

  Lbbp said nothing.

  - In a few moments, said the Gfjk, I will address my people. I will tell them that death is coming for them, for this whole world, but that they must not fear, for I, the Gfjk-Hhh, Champion and Defender of Fnrr, Commander of the Platinum Legions, the Past and Future, the First and Last and Always, have been returned to life at this time to save and protect them! And once I’ve done that – the Gfjk turned to Lbbp, his tone becoming icy – I will—

  When suddenly . . .

  - What’s happened?

  - I can’t see!

  - Has it started?

  - Save us, Luminescence, save us!

  The chamber had been plunged into darkness. Every light had failed, every screen gone blank. In the impenetrable gloom – actually quite a relief to Lbbp’s dazzled eyes – he could hear courtiers stumbling around, bleating in panic, technicians fiddling with their equipment, muttering in confusion, and above it all, the voice of the Gfjk, calling for calm, insisting he was in control and there was no cause for alarm. Lbbp was annoyed to notice that, despite the turmoil, the two custodians who held him firmly by the arms had not relaxed their grip one little bit.

  After only a short while – it felt to Lbbp like about sixty-four blips – the lights began to flicker on, the screens glowed again, the machines hummed back into life. A general sense of relief passed around the room.

  The Gfjk collected himself, then addressed the assembly. - See? he said, smiling. Nothing to worry about, it’s all . . .

  The Gfjk’s smile faded. No one was listening to him. They were all gazing up at the visualiser. He turned to look at it himself.

  The screen showed a face. A round, pink f
ace, with a button nose, slightly stuck-out ears and a fringe of oddly coloured hair poking out from under a curiously striped item of cloth headgear.

  As the crowd in the Forum-turned-Mission-Control looked on in confusion, the face spoke, in perfect accentless Fnrrn.

  - My name is Terra.

  3.16

  Across the whole city, across the whole nation, the young Ymn’s voice was heard.

  It was heard in the homes of the oppressed and frightened population, gathered around their visualisers, surprised not to be seeing the Special Address from His Luminescence that they’d been ordered to watch.

  It was heard in the stations and barracks of the City Custodians, many of them tiring now of their part in the climate of brutality and fear, realising they’d been forced to choose between their leader and their own people, wondering if they’d chosen wisely.

  It was heard – but not by many – in the all-but-deserted lectoria and libraries of the Preceptorates, Lycea and PreAcademies.

  And in the hall of the old Forum, so misused, so befouled, it echoed around the stone walls to the confusion of the courtiers, the fury of their false emperor – and the absolute delight of his prisoner.

  - My name is Terra. I’m not from this planet, but it’s my home – as much my home as it is any of yours.

  I’m here to tell you about two dangers we all face. One you already know about, the other you maybe don’t, yet.

  Some of you will already have noticed a black shape in the sky. We believe that this is the Black Planet, as mentioned in an old legend some of you may be familiar with. The legend says that whenever the Black Planet visits another world, everything on that world dies.

  This brings me to the other danger you face. You know him as the Gfjk-Hhh. This is not his name. I don’t know what his name is, but he’s not the Gfjk-Hhh. The Gfjk-Hhh has been dead for twenty eras. The present ruler of this nation is a fraud, a pretender, an imposter with forged ancient scrolls wearing a dead emperor’s stolen robes.