by F. E. Arliss
Winter and Tate retired to the mess to discuss the information. Neither had a good feeling about what was coming.
The next three weeks proved the other Jerod planets were also decimated. No mammalian populations existed. They had been wiped out by the Arachnian hatchlings.
As they approached the Arachnian homeworld, it floated lazily to the side of what appeared to be an enormous void in space. No sooner had they skirted the last moon than red alerts had begun sounding regularly. Hustling to the bridge, Winter stood mouth agape at the viewer’s depiction of straggling groups of Arachnian vessels in various forms moving into ragtag convoys. It was clear they were preparing to flee something.
“Sensors, display information on the void!” rapped out Queen Altum Juls. “What is that thing?”
“Sensors indicate that it is a void,” the Talio replied.
“We know that,” snapped the Queen. “What is it doing?”
“Scanning,” replied Talio. “I’m picking up streams of data from the Arachnian homeworld,” the ship stated. “Translating.”
“It would appear that the Arachnians tried to communicate with the void, but received no reply. They also sent vessels into the void, though none returned. Our ancient databases suggest that this may be a portal to another dimension of space-time,” Talio concluded matter-of-factly.
The silence weighed a ton. “Did he just say ‘another dimension of space-time’,” Winter asked of no one in particular.
“I did, yes,” Talio answered her. “Also,” he added, “everything on this side of the portal is moving towards it at an accelerating speed.”
“Oh, holy crap!” Tate muttered. “What are we supposed to do about this?”
“Ummm, I think I better get in the helmet,” Winter said, almost panicking in her hurry to slide into its seat. The device had her clamped in its embrace instantly.
“I will retire to my Queen pool,” Altum Juls murmured, backing slowly from the room, as though in a trance, as her eyes remained riveted to the screen. “Back us well away from here, Talio. Keep us out of its draw!” she ordered, then turned and sprinted towards her quarters.
Freux, Tate, and General Kor remained on the bridge. Worried glances passed back and forth, though none spoke. What could any of them say? No one had the answers to this, unless it was the pool or the helmet. The helpless feeling, that they could share.
“Well, I guess we know what the Arachnians were trying to do when they decimated those planets,” General Freux said tiredly. “They were trying to save whatever population of eggs they had. Extinction of their food source was secondary to the problem.” The other two men simply nodded.
Several hours later, the group reconvened. Queen Altum Juls began the conversation with a grave statement. “This has happened before, though the occurrence was so long ago that Queen Altum Vis has only remnants of memories from the ancestors.”
“The void is dark energy. According to the records, ninety-four percent of all matter is dark matter and dark energy. Which means we can only see six percent of light on a visible spectrum,” she continued. “This also means that what we see is only the tip of the proverbial iceberg.”
“Altum Vis’ memories are of a world-sucking void that expanded to consume several galaxies. It wiped out untold species until an ancient ‘worm’ devoured it. I have no idea what the ‘worm’ was. A wormhole would make the most sense, but not when you apply scientific principles. How could a wormhole swallow an ever-expanding void? The science team is looking into that,” she added. “Winter, anything from the helmet?”
“Yes,” Winter said slowly. “There was information on the void and on the ‘worm’. My guess is that the void is indeed a portal to a parallel dimension. According to the helmet, the portal is in a constant search for ‘oneness’. It tries to swallow other dimensions in a search for its own concept of wholeness,” she explained, hesitating as she did so. “It’s mind boggling, I admit. Clearly, the void is sentient. It searches for other dimensions in order to restore itself to oneness.”
“If I’m understanding the helmet correctly,” Winter went on, “at the time of the ‘great occurrence’, which appears to be some type of ‘big bang’-like creation event, the void was torn apart. It searches now for all its parts because it cannot be ‘whole’ on its own. Dear God, I sound like some loosey-goosey weirdo at a cult meeting,” Winter added, with a desperate sounding laugh.
“Yep. You do,” Tate added cryptically.
“Anyway, according to the helmet, this ‘void’ was stopped before by something called the ‘Chrysalis’-- which seems to be some type of being that takes the void and turns it into something else. Don’t ask me what or how,” Winter stated firmly. “That was all I got, and that was weird enough, and far enough back in the ancient archives to give me a serious headache.”
“Thank you, Winter,” Queen Altum Juls added. “That was actually very helpful. So now we know, as Queen Altum Vis believed, the void can be closed. We just have to figure out how to call the ‘Chrysalis’ being to help us. Both Winter and I will go back and try to pry more information out of the archives. First, we need to rest. We will resume tomorrow. Get some sleep everyone,” the Queen added. “We’re going to need it.”
Chapter Fifteen
Desperate Design
Winter had been unable to sleep after the revelations of the day. Asking Tate to come to her quarters, Winter curled into his arms and discussed her desperate idea. Tate’s entire body went rigid as he comprehended the enormity of her plan.
“No! No way!” he said firmly.
“Why not?” Winter asked simply. “I don’t feel like we’re prepared to face this challenge as we are. Do you?” she asked him searchingly.
“No. I don’t think we’re prepared for this. But this plan of your is just soooo out there,” he said quietly. “What if we get lost on the way? What if it doesn’t work? What if we can’t get back?” he rapped out all his insecurities.
“What if we succeed?” Winter replied.
“Do you really want to go through this whole ‘body claiming’ thing again?” he asked. “Because that’s what it will be, you know? We’ll have to embrace a whole new body, again!”
“I know,” Winter murmured against his chest. “But we’ll do it together, right? We’ll both be getting used to new bodies. We’ve done it before. We can do it again,” she added firmly.
Tate sighed. “How do you know where the Osmirian home world is?”
“I asked the helmet,” Winter said quietly. “I have the exact coordinates.”
“How do you know you can blink us that far?” he asked, his concern and worry washing over Winter like a tidal wave.
“I don’t know for sure, but I think that if we join our minds together and I can use your energy as well as mine, I can do it,” Winter stated calmly. Though internally, she was not as certain. “The worst thing that can happen is that we both die in a blink. Together. At once.” she added, looking up at him questioningly. “That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”
“No. I can think of a lot worse things than that,” Tate agreed. “Ok, I’m in, if you’re sure you want to risk it.”
“I do. Let’s just do it now, so we don’t have to move or ask permission. Ok?” Winter asked, wrapping both arms tightly around Tate’s lanky muscled frame.
“Ok,” Tate replied, slinging his long legs over Winter’s shorter ones. “Let’s do it.” Then he bent his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. “I love you, you know.”
“Ya, me too,” Winter said, then closed her own eyes and concentrated on the image of Caloon, the Osmirian homeworld that Queen Altum Juls had crash landed on five years ago. Turning her thoughts to Tate’s, she joined their consciousnesses and concentrated on the coordinates and image of Caloon. Tate did the same. Time spun away. Everything fell away. Twice Winter imagined they were dead. Twice that image fell away.
Brown dust swirled up Tate’s nostrils, jerking him from the deep trance-like sta
te he’d been in. Struggling to breathe, he sat up and sheltered Winter against his chest. They lay at the base of an outcropping of rock on a world filled with harsh sunlight, high winds, and scrub brush outcroppings. Occasionally, groups of rocks jutted on the horizon. Tipping Winter’s head up, he patted her pale cheeks gently, “Hey, wake up girl. I think we’re here,” he whispered urgently in her ear. “I think you did it!”
Winter struggled upright against his chest. “Ah, crap, this planet tastes like shit,” she gasped, spitting dust from her mouth and wiping tears from her eyes as they tried desperately to rinse her vision clear.
Gazing about, it was Tate that spotted the narrow tunnel in the rock behind them. “Look, isn’t that what the helmet described as Altum Juls’ path to the interior? Or, at least something similar?” he asked, turning Winter’s entire body towards the point he was referring to.
“Let’s go see,” Winter said, springing cat-like to her feet and struggling against the wind towards the slit in the rocky surface of the planet. “At least it will get us out of this dusty wind,” she added, covering her face with her arm.
A few minutes later they were both out of the wind and leaning against a dark rocky wall. “It’s going to take a while for my eyes to adjust,” Winter whispered to Tate. “I can’t see a thing. Can you?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I can,” Tate whispered back. “Do you want me to lead you?” he asked. “I can see a way ahead.”
“Why are we whispering?” Winter said with a nervous laugh. “Lead on, my stalwart Guardian.”
Moving forward cautiously, Tate edged them further down into the cavern. What seemed like hours passed, and Winter became woozy with dehydration and fatigue. Tate simply scooped her up and proceeded on. He knew he couldn’t stop now. Their lives depended on finding the cavern to the other world, the Osmir ascendancy chamber. It was that or die. He wasn’t letting Winter die.
Finally, Tate staggered out into an open space. He could hear water trickling gently. Honing his senses to find it, he turned his acute hearing and vision towards the sound. There it was, a small pool, into which a little trickle of water fell. It was barely three inches deep. That was enough.
Carefully, he lowered Winter to the ground, and began scooping water into his long shallow palm. Letting it dribble down her parted lips, he urged her to swallow. “Come on, Winter. Swallow some of this for me,” he begged her.
A groggy Winter choked as some of the refreshing liquid slid down the wrong pipe. After a few gasping coughs, Winter said, “That has got to be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” Rolling over, she stuck her whole face into the water and hoovered up a couple of gulps before rolling onto her back.
“You did good, getting us here, string bean,” Winter praised him, a slight tease to her voice. “I still can’t see anything much. I don’t remember the Queen saying it was stone-black in here.”
“I can see the altar,” Tate informed her haughtily, a slight catch of amused superiority coloring his tone. Sipping water from the pool, now that Winter had rolled away, he added for effect “And the cave paintings on the walls.”
“Smug does not suit you, stringbean,” she chastised him. “So we’re in the right spot?” Winter asked worriedly.
“I’d say so,” Tate replied, his eyes rapidly scanning the pictographs on the walls. “The depictions are exactly how the Queen described them. So is the impaling altar,” he added, reminding them both of what was to come.
“Great!” Winter replied, a little less enthusiastically. “Who wants to go first? I suppose I should since this was my idea. I must have been off my rocker,” she added, a tiny crack in her voice revealing her fear to Tate.
“Ah, don’t worry, gnat. I’ll go first,” Tate said, his voice impassive. “That way I can help you better when you go.”
“You are the best man ever, Tate Quirke,” Winter said, a ton of affection cracking her voice. “I’d normally be bossy and say I had to go first, but in this instance, I’m going to accept your chivalrous offer. Though if you leave me here on my own, I will hunt you down and kill you slowly. Clear?” Winter wise-cracked at him.
Tate squeezed her hand, then hauled her to her feet. “We better get started. There really isn’t much time to waste,” he said matter-of-factly.
Approaching the slab-like altar, he heaved himself onto its flat surface and laid down. “This thing is huge. Wonder what would happen if we both laid on it at once,” he asked hesitantly.
“I don’t know, but let’s find out,” Winter said, leaping nimbly up beside him and scrambling to lie next to him. Neither wanted to admit that they didn’t want to do this alone. She reached for his hand and clasped it firmly. “Let’s just breathe and relax and see what happens.”
“Ok,” Tate sighed out, squeezing her hand back in a reassuring gesture. “Here goes.”
A few minutes passed, allowing both of them to relax and begin to regain their equilibrium. Slowly, they began to breathe in a slow meditative breath, unconsciously synchronizing their inhalations and exhalations.
In a flash, the altar transformed and sharp stalagmite-like protrusions pressed nail-like against their backs. “Shit, that hurts,” Winter wheezed, pressing her nails into Tate’s hand as though her life depended on it.
“Yep,” he mimicked. Then silence fell as the spikes grew and Winter and Tate lived no more.
Chapter Sixteen
What the Hell?
When forty-eight hours had passed and no one was able to locate Winter and Tate, the crew aboard the Talio officially began to worry. The Arachnians were getting ready to launch their strings of colonists and not even Sasha Kelty or Dolores had been able to find any trace of the two missing emissaries’ consciousnesses.
Just as Queen Altum Juls was preparing to launch her internal might against the massing Arachnians, two forms materialized like wisps of smoke onto the bridge. Gradually forming into the shapes of Winter and Tate, they were remarkably changed from their original shapes.
Tate’s lanky form was still tall, but now his silky-straight, white hair was transformed into in a wavy mass of long, wiry-white kinks. He was taller and far more heavily muscled, though his eyes still glowed a deep ambery-orange. General Freux had nothing on him for looks now. They could all see the big smile on his materializing face.
One of Tate’s hands was clasped around the still-petite Winter’s hand. Standing next to each other, their forms formed a juxtaposition of tall and short. Bulky musculature and lithe, delicate femininity.
The only thing apparently different about Winter were her eyes, hair and musculature. While still tiny, she now had the long, slender, lethal looking muscles of an aerial assassin. Her shaved head had transformed into a mass of long, curls of white-gold that formed a halo behind her form. Her blue eyes now glowed as though internally lit by a titanium torch.
She was spectacular. They were both spectacular.
As their forms solidified, both looked confident and in command. Queen Altum Juls smiled and stepped forward. “Welcome home, my fellow Osmir. I would know your energy anywhere.”
Winter bowed briefly, along with Tate, then said, “We apologize for our unexplained absence. We felt if we explained our mission we would be delayed, and as time is of the essence, we found that option unacceptable.”
Queen Altum Juls glared at both of them fiercely, then hugged each of them equally as fiercely. “I’m glad you’re back in one piece. I did promise to let you work out your role as my Viceroy without interference. So I am simply going to say, ‘well done’ and welcome to our species,” she added, quietly. Then hugged both of them again.
“How are things progressing?” Winter asked.
“Quickly,” the Queen replied. “I hope your expedition has brought new options to light.”
“I think so,” Winter murmured. “Let us hope so.” With that, they were briefed on what was happening and set down to explain their plan.
Chapter Seventeen
The Calling
It took Winter and Queen Altum Juls another week of trolling the pool and helmet to find the last bits of information that Winter’s glimmer of a plan needed. They would call the Chrysalis. That would take some preparation, but Winter believed she could do it. Helped by Tate, General Freux, and Queen Altum Juls, Winter believed she could cast her consciousness far enough out to act as a beacon for the ‘worm’.
By that time, the Arachnian homeworld was beginning to be swallowed by the void. It was a monstrous thing to watch. Winter couldn’t even glance at it without feeling physically ill. The rapacious gobbling mouth seemed to never be satiated and gave her horrible nightmares of doom.
