A rumble and clinking sounded behind him. He turned to see an orderly pushing a trolley loaded with a large tea urn and rows of cups.
Quinn smiled. “And what problem is there that can’t be solved with a nice cup of tea?”
~
With Conor half a step behind, Quinn pushed the trolley along the corridor and stopped in front of the two guards. He attempted a disarming smile. “Tea’s up.”
The nearest guard looked him up and down. “Where’s Parsons?”
Quinn screwed up his face and clutched his stomach theatrically. “Cramps. He’s got ’em real bad. I think it might have been the stuff they served for supper.”
The answer was at least partly truthful. The man lay unconscious in a utility cupboard, doubled up from Quinn’s blow to his solar plexus.
The guard glanced at his companion. “You eat yet?
The other gulped and shook his head.
“Hey,” Quinn said. “Tea’s getting cold.”
The first guard pushed the door handle and signalled for him to enter.
Wheels creaked as Quinn pushed the trolley into the room, Conor trailing after. Two soldiers with Royal Engineer shoulder badges sat hunched in front of a large board filled with holes and trailing wires. Quinn waited for the guards to close the door before pulling a service revolver. Ignoring Conor’s gasp, he pointed it at the nearest operator’s head.
The man shrank back in his seat. “What the hell?”
The second operator reached for his sidearm. Quinn fixed him with a stare, and the man raised his hands.
“W-what do you want?” the first operator stammered.
Quinn retrieved the crumpled paper from his pocket and slammed it on the desk in front of the first operator. “Send it.”
The man glanced at the paper then back at Quinn. “What’s this?”
“It’s an invitation to a bloody tea dance. Send it. All field commanders.”
The operator’s hands shook as he made the connections and picked up the receiver.
Quinn pressed the revolver against the man’s temple. “And don’t try anything.”
The operator’s voice cracked as he spoke into the mouthpiece. “All field commanders… All field commanders.” He spoke the code written on the paper.
“Again,” Quinn hissed.
He repeated the code then glanced up. “They’re acknowledging.”
“Well done.”
Quinn raised the revolver and cracked the operator across the skull. The man slumped sideways. The second operator began to rise, but Quinn pointed the gun at him.
The guards burst in, glanced at the fallen operator, and levelled their rifles at Quinn and Conor. Quinn tossed the revolver, raised his hands, and signalled Conor to follow suit.
The scene shifted, and he was back on the Damise vessel. Conor was beside him, and Vyasa was kneeling at his feet, head bowed. The Damise rose from their seats and floated towards him. Their golden faces shone, and the darkness in their eyes seemed to stretch on forever. Quinn stepped in front of Conor and Vyasa, spreading his arms like an eagle protecting her young. The Damise advanced, surrounding them, reaching out with spiderlike fingers…
Then they were gone. Quinn opened his eyes. He was lying on the table in the Elinare’s all-white dwelling. Vyasa lay next to him, eyes closed.
Rahada’s face appeared over him. “Are you all right?”
“I think so,” he replied. “Where’s Conor?”
“Still in his cubicle, sedated.”
“Did we do it?”
Vyasa stirred.
Zothan spoke somewhere off to his right. “They should rest.”
Quinn propped himself up on his elbows. “To hell with that. Did we do it?”
“Step outside.” The voice inside his head was Keiza’s.
He swung his legs over the side of the table.
“Quinn,” Zothan said. “Quinn, where are you going?”
Ignoring him, Quinn padded across the floor, pushed open the exit door, and stepped out into bright sunlight.
The dolin towered next to him. It did not appear to have moved. Between the cubes, pyramids, and spires, lightly robed Elinare stood motionless, staring upwards. Shielding his eyes, Quinn followed their gaze. Gone were the dark, mushroomlike stains.
From horizon to horizon, the sky was a crucible of burnished gold.
~
The air in front of Quinn fizzed. He tore his gaze from the sky just as a silver sphere materialised two metres in front of his nose.
A split second later, Vil-gar’s wizened form appeared. His head jerked as he made a sound between a snort and a snicker. “You stopped them in their tracks! The Damise are furious. They’re still trying to work out how a being with your low intelligence managed to disrupt their firing pattern. I can hardly believe it myself. Of course, you did have the Elinare’s help. But still—”
Quinn became aware of Zothan and Rahada at his back. He faced Vil-gar and made a half-hearted attempt to disguise his annoyance. “Do you want something?”
“No,” Vil-gar said. “Not at all. I mean, yes! Yes, of course. You must depart from here without delay.”
“And how are we supposed to leave?”
Vil-gar raised his eyes to heaven as if Quinn had just confirmed his “low intelligence” comment. “The way you came, of course.”
“You mean the Elinare sphere,” Quinn said. “Won’t the Damise detect us?”
“Without a doubt. But they adapted their point-defence system to synchronise their attack. Positioning is critical, so they can’t afford to move off station to chase you. Though they’ll probably toss a zahar your way. Couple of chuthahs, maybe.”
“Will the sphere get us back to the waypoint?” Rahada asked.
Vil-gar rolled his eyes. “No, of course not. You’ll have to rendezvous with your ship to return to your universe.”
“You’re saying the Shanata vessel is still out there?” Quinn asked.
“Well, I don’t know for sure. But the Damise didn’t engage them, nor did they detect any wreckage, so I’d say there’s a good chance.”
“You could find them.” Vyasa leaned against the doorway, skin pallid and eyes heavy, as though she’d just emerged from a long sleep. Quinn took a step towards her, but she dismissed him with a smile and a slight shake of the head. “With your vast intellect, I’m sure you could figure out the coordinates.”
Vil-gar pouted, reminding Quinn of a spoilt child. “I suppose.”
“You’re the only one who can do it,” Vyasa said. “And it would help us out no end.”
“I mean, it isn’t like I don’t have enough to do already. Your little ruse won’t last forever. Sooner or later, the Damise will figure out what you did and institute countermeasures. In the meantime, I have to try shoring up the Elinare barrier without the Damise noticing. And you want me to locate your ship as well?”
“We’d be eternally grateful.”
“Oh… very well. But you’d better leave right away. If they figure out those escaping in the sphere are the ones responsible for their system failures, they might just forget the Elinare, chase after you, and blast you out of the sky.”
“Thank you,” Vyasa said. “We owe you our lives.”
“Yes, well… Better get going. Busy, busy.” The silver sphere fizzled, and the image of Vil-gar vanished.
Rahada nodded to Vyasa. “It seems you have hidden diplomatic skills.”
Vyasa returned a weak smile, looking as though she was about to collapse.
The sphere reappeared along with Vil-gar. “Oh, I almost forgot. You do realise where you need to go?”
“I thought we might try rejoining the alliance fleet,” Quinn replied.
“And then what?”
“I’m not sure,” Quinn said. “Try to take on the AI, I suppose.”
Vil-gar hissed through his thin lips. “It must be vaguely comforting to drift through the universe with no plan whatsoever. By now, the AI will have spread to
virtually every corner of the Consensus, with one exception.”
“And what’s that?” Rahada asked.
Vil-gar shook his head. “You mean none of you has the wit to figure it out? The Maaka nebula, of course.”
Zothan took a step forward at the mention of his home. “How do you know this?”
“The Damise have no need to deploy the AI within the nebula. The Shanata have already unleashed the gormgast.”
“He’s right,” Rahada said. “The Damise need only sit back while the gormgast overrun Nemazi. The remaining inhabited nebula worlds would then be pushovers.”
“Any idea how we go about stopping them?” Quinn asked.
Vil-gar regarded the giant sentinel stationed at the entrance to their dwelling. “You control one of the most powerful weapons ever created.”
“I don’t control it,” Quinn replied.
“It’s programmed to protect you?”
“Well, yes.”
“It does your bidding?”
“Not exactly,” Quinn said. “I’ve encouraged it to seek its own path.”
“Seriously? Encouraging a weapon of mass destruction to pursue self-determination—isn’t that a rather dangerous strategy?”
Quinn’s hackles rose. “It’s not a strategy. It’s the right of all sentient creatures.”
Vil-gar made a choking noise. “Who told you that?”
“It’s what humans believe.”
Vil-gar shook his head. “Humans must be even more weak-minded than I thought! By now, the Shades are probably the last coherent force left in the Consensus. Your only chance of mounting a resistance to the Damise’s AI is to ally yourselves with them. First, though, you’ll have to help them defeat the gormgast. And the only way to do that”—he jabbed a finger at the dolin—“is to deploy the weapon.”
The construct’s stone face gave no clue as to its reaction. Quinn was half afraid it would raise a great foot and stomp on Vil-gar. It could not harm his image, of course, but it might well crush his projection sphere out of existence.
“Look,” Quinn said, “your job is to keep the Damise from breaking through the Elinare barrier. Can you do that?”
Vil-gar’s proboscis twitched. “Not indefinitely.”
“Well then, let me put it another way. Can you keep them at bay long enough for us to find a way to deal with their AI?”
When it came, Vil-gar’s reply was thin, wrung dry of his usual arrogance. “I don’t know.”
A tide of sympathy swept away Quinn’s irritation. “Well, all right. Just do your best.”
Vil-gar lowered his head, his long ears drooped, and he vanished.
Rahada regarded Quinn with accusing eyes.
Quinn spread his arms wide. “What? What is it?”
“Your attitude to Vil-gar is most disrespectful,” Zothan said. “He is risking his life to help us.”
“He’s a projection!”
“His corporeal form is on Pann. Sustained by a machine, he hovers between life and death. Yet he directs his efforts towards our preservation rather than his own.”
“That’s a switch,” Quinn muttered.
“I do not understand.”
“Quinn believes Vil-gar deliberately sacrificed his people, the Farish, so that he could lengthen his life,” Rahada said.
“That is a serious accusation,” Zothan growled.
“Back in the Farish’s complex, I came across a recording,” Quinn said. “The individuals who entered those receptacles didn’t go willingly.”
Zothan’s eyes narrowed. “Did Vil-gar appear in this recording?”
“Well, no.”
“Then you cannot be certain he was complicit. I recall a human phrase from the time of our melding: ‘innocent until proven guilty.’” Nemazi had an unsettling habit of paring away irrelevancies and laying bare the truth, a trait no doubt born from the harsh realities of their desert existence.
“It’s not that simple,” Quinn began. “We’re trusting him with our lives and those of the entire Elinare race.”
“You believe he is attempting to deceive us?” Zothan asked.
“I’m not sure. But getting Vyasa to reach out to the Damise was Vil-gar’s idea.”
Rahada’s expression hardened. “You never told us that.”
“I know. I should have trusted you with that information. I’m sorry.”
“Nevertheless, she was successful,” Zothan said. “Together, you won a great victory.”
“Yes, but it could easily have gone the other way. Had it not been for Keiza’s intervention, Vyasa would have fallen totally under the Damise’s control.”
Rahada sighed. “Unfortunately, we have little choice but to follow the path laid out for us. We must attempt to reenter our universe in order to stem the tide of the Damise’s AI, and Vil-gar must remain here as the Elinare’s last hope. If his motive is treachery, then that will become clear with time.”
Before Quinn could frame a reply, a half-strangled cry sounded behind him. He turned to see Vyasa, head slumped against her chest as she slid down the wall. He lunged, caught her, swept her up in his arms, and carried her back inside the Elinare dwelling. Her features were as grey as the sky before dawn, and she felt as light as morning mist.
~
Quinn stared at the stark white walls that symbolised Elinare hospitality. He had been unable to establish mental contact with Keiza, so Rahada had volunteered to hunt for her, leaving him alone with Zothan. The Nemazi resumed his traditional stance, sticklike arms and legs crooked as if ready for action.
“How is Vyasa?” Quinn asked.
“I am engineering division,” Zothan replied. “I am not a healer.”
“Do you think she’s fit to travel?”
Zothan cocked his head. “Your question seems superfluous since we must leave this place.”
Quinn smiled. “Humans will sometimes ask a question to show concern even when there is no other purpose to it.”
“I understand.”
“How about Conor?”
“He should awaken shortly.”
“Good. That’s good.”
“I am curious,” Zothan said. “Why do you not show concern for yourself?”
“Me?”
“Conor’s implant still resides within you. Do you not wish me to remove it?”
Quinn shook his head. “No time, my friend. The Damise could resume their attack at any moment. We must leave right away.”
“Agreed.”
Better be there for when Conor awakens. Quinn headed for his alcove.
“It… pleases me,” Zothan said.
Quinn turned. “What do you mean?”
“We were set to go our different ways. Now our paths have merged once again. We will cross shalgar volothi together.” The phrase roughly translated into “life’s desert.”
Quinn nodded. “It pleases me too. We will return to Nemazi and help free your people. Then together, we will destroy the Damise’s AI.”
As Quinn turned away, the ceiling was rent apart. He cowered as masonry crashed to the floor, filling the air with dust. A steady orange beam pierced the hole, a great stone hand reached down, and a voice bellowed.
“Come.”
The dolin. Had it lost its sanity? “What the hell are you doing?” Quinn yelled.
“The Elinare have surrounded this place,” it replied. “You must come. Now!”
~
Dust filled Quinn’s mouth, and he coughed. “Zothan, are you all right?”
A spindly black figure with bright yellow eyes emerged from the gloom. “I am well, Quinn.”
“Fetch Vyasa. I’ll get Conor.”
Quinn batted away clouds of dust as he stumbled towards Conor’s alcove and passed through the fog-like barrier. Inside, the air was clear.
On the slab, Conor stirred, and his eyes cracked open. “Dad? What’s going on?”
“No time to explain,” Quinn replied. “Can you move?”
Conor swung his legs ov
er the side of the slab and tried to stand. Quinn supported him as they exited the alcove together. The dust was thinning. Zothan was waiting next to the giant’s hand with Vyasa limp in his arms.
Conor squinted in the light filtering through the ragged hole in the ceiling. “Are we under attack?”
“I don’t know,” Quinn replied.
He gestured to Zothan, and they lifted their charges onto the giant’s hand and climbed aboard. Keeping a tight hold on Conor’s wrist, Quinn gazed upwards as the dolin lifted them through the hole.
White-robed Elinare surrounded the dwelling, silent and motionless, like mourners at a funeral.
Conor’s eyes widened. “What do they want?”
“I have no idea,” Quinn replied.
“Can you contact Keiza?” Zothan asked.
Quinn called out with his mind. Keiza… Keiza, your people have turned up in force. What’s going on? Keiza, can you hear me? He shook his head. “She’s still not responding.”
“They’re just standing there,” Conor said.
The dolin swept them with its eye beam. “If you wish, I can remove them from our path.”
“No,” Quinn said. The Elinare’s natural state was noncorporeal, but here on the Haven, they manifested as physical beings. Injuring or destroying them in this form might have no effect, but Quinn couldn’t afford to take the chance. “You’re to do nothing without my direct order, understood?”
“Understood.”
Were the dolin’s directives sufficiently binding to make it obey him? Quinn hoped so, because if it decided to go on a rampage, he could do nothing to prevent it.
A lithe figure in black emerged from between a pair of pyramids and dashed towards them, shoving Elinare out of the way as if they were dried-out corn stalks. Quinn recognised Rahada’s upturned face. Her lips were drawn back over her teeth, and she was breathing hard.
“What’s going on?” she cried.
“I’m not sure,” Quinn called back. “Did you find Keiza?”
“No, but I’m pretty sure I know where she is.”
“Where?”
“That dome-shaped building where the Qan-ho-nah reside. When I tried to enter, it threw me out just like before. I searched every other place. There’s nowhere else she can be.”
The Crucible Page 6
