The Crucible

by Mark Whiteway

  “Then we can’t help her.”

  Conor frowned. “Dad?”

  “I’m sorry. We have our own problems.”

  “Quinn,” Rahada called. “We cannot remain here. We must find a way off this world.”

  The only ones who could help were the crowd surrounding them. He yelled at the dolin, “Set me down!”

  “Is that wise?” Zothan asked.

  “Probably not,” Quinn replied. “Set me down anyway.”

  To his surprise, the dolin lowered him to the ground without argument. Quinn clambered off and waved the giant away.

  Rahada got in his face. “What are you doing?”

  “Getting us off this world. I hope.”

  He approached the nearest Elinare. Sharp cheekbones and eye ridges gave them severe expressions, but they carried no visible weapons, and so far, they had made no aggressive moves.

  Quinn forced a smile. “I wonder if you could help us?”

  The Elinare stared at him. Quinn recalled what he had read of the cities of old Earth where enquiries from strangers were met with stone-cold silence.

  He tried again. “We managed to stop the attack on your world, but now we must leave.”

  Still no reaction. Do they understand Ardalan? Both Keiza and the members of the Qan-ho-nah had readily understood the common language of the Consensus. He had no reason to think these were any different.

  “If we can make it back to our universe, we might be able to send help.”

  The Elinare closed their eyes and spread their arms as if they were about to take flight.

  Rahada was at his shoulder. “Something’s happening. I don’t like it.”

  A stiff wind ruffled Quinn’s hair. It gathered and became a steady blow that circled their dwelling. The Elinare stood, heads raised expectantly.

  Rahada yelled in his ear, “We have to leave!”

  Quinn waved at the dolin, and it lowered its hand. He climbed aboard and beckoned to Rahada.

  She shook her head. “Go ahead. I’ll keep them at bay.”

  “It’s too dangerous!” he shouted into the wind.

  “I’ll be fine. Go!”

  The Elinare stood motionless in the maelstrom. Vyasa lay unconscious in the giant’s palm, while Zothan, with his stick-insect frame, vainly attempted to shelter Conor. Reluctantly, Quinn waved at the construct, and it raised its hand.

  “Get us out of here!” he cried.

  The dolin lumbered forward, but the Elinare did not budge. Quinn winced as it raised a great foot but then sighed in relief as it stepped over them and clomped between the geometric structures. The Elinare turned as one, lowered their arms, and followed. The tempest picked up its skirts, swept towards the dolin, and enveloped it in a cyclone. The construct leaned against the wind.

  “This is not a natural phenomenon,” Zothan said.

  Quinn’s arms were clamped around one of the giant’s fingers. “No kidding.”

  “Which direction should we take?” Zothan asked.

  A scene filled Quinn’s mind—a brightly lit hillside and, perched on it, a great silver sphere. He recognised it as the spot where they had first arrived on this world. The vision was too intense to be a simple memory. Keiza.

  “Head for the place we landed,” Quinn said.

  “What about Keiza and Rahada?” Conor cried.

  “Rahada is following us on foot. As for Keiza, I don’t think she’s coming.”

  “But, Dad—”

  “The Elinare have the right to deal with their own people however they see fit. We can’t get involved.”

  Conor turned away, sullen. He’ll get over it.

  The dolin lifted its great head as if getting its bearings then struck out in a new direction, contemptuous of the wind battering its frame. Through watery eyes, Quinn watched as the Elinare trailed after. He couldn’t spot Rahada, though she was probably better off than they were.

  The sky darkened as the air above the cyclone transformed into a roiling black cloud. The cloud crackled and tossed a lightning bolt. Smoke rose from the centre of the dolin’s chest.

  “Bloody hell!” Quinn clung to the dolin’s finger like a shipwrecked sailor.

  Black smoke enveloped the giant’s hand. Quinn sniffed but could detect no scent of burning. Zothan muttered something inaudible, and the smoke coalesced, encasing them in a semitransparent globe. We’re in a four-space bubble.

  “Good job,” Quinn said.

  Zothan did not reply. His flat face was a mask of concentration. On Pann’s lower levels, he had explained that Shades could not easily maintain a four-space bubble with more than two occupants. Best not interrupt his train of thought.

  The bubble’s surface had the appearance of lightly frosted glass. Through it, Quinn could see flashes as the cloud spat more lightning bolts at them, but the storm’s fury was muted—all he could hear was the sound of his own breathing. As a child, he had shaken a snow globe, set it on the kitchen table, and gazed into its depths as if it were another world. Little did he imagine that one day he would be inside the globe, looking out.

  As long as Zothan could sustain the bubble, they were perfectly safe in their own subuniverse. Even if the Elinare managed to disable or destroy the dolin, he and the others would not be adversely affected. Of course, getting to the landing site might be a problem.

  Zothan sat cross-legged, his head bowed like an ancient Tibetan monk’s. Vyasa lay next to him in a deep sleep. Quinn whipped his head around but could see no one else within the bubble.

  “Conor!” he cried. “Where’s Conor?”

  ~

  Shortly after his fifth birthday, Conor had wandered off at the Eire Colony Foundation Day fair. Quinn and Sarah found him a short while later, chatting with a troupe of clowns. The fair was tiny by Earth standards, and Quinn knew almost everyone there, but panic still gripped him whenever he recalled the incident. Now, Conor was out there in the midst of a raging artificial storm, pursued by horde of superpowerful beings with murderous intent.

  “Where’d he go?” Quinn demanded.

  Zothan’s eyes cracked open as if he were in a trance. “Conor told you… You did not listen.”

  “Told me? No, he didn’t. What are you blathering about?”

  “Keiza…”

  Zothan was right. Conor had been worried about Keiza, but Quinn had slapped him down. In the current emergency, his reaction was right and logical, but teenagers were not driven by logic. Rahada said she had tracked Keiza down to the structure where the Qan-ho-nah met…

  “I’m going after him.”

  “No… Quinn.”

  “I can transfer using my Shade abilities. I’ll bring him back.”

  “No… You must not…”

  “I’ll be fine. It’s just this once. Besides, you’ll be able to maintain the four-space bubble far more easily with just you and Vyasa inside. Get to the landing point. The Elinare sphere that brought us is still there. Wait as long as you can, but if the Elinare try to stop you or if the Damise show signs of resuming their bombardment, lift off and don’t look back.”

  Steadying himself, Quinn crossed the giant’s palm and approached the bubble’s frosted surface.

  “Quinn… I beg you—”

  He stepped out of the bubble, cutting off Zothan’s plea. The storm wind slapped his face. He glanced over his shoulder. The bubble was gone. Actually, it was not gone—it simply lay on a fourth spatial axis invisible to anyone in three dimensions.

  He stood alone on the giant’s palm, cupped his hands to his mouth, and yelled, “Hey!”

  The dolin turned its great stone head and pinned him with its orange eye beam just as a crack of lighting struck its forehead, leaving behind a black mark. More dark stains marred its face and torso. Quinn felt a surge of sympathy before ripping it away like a Band-Aid. It’s a constructed being, nothing more.

  “Conor,” Quinn called. “Where is he?”

  “I do not know,” the dolin boomed.

  “Did
n’t you see him?”

  “Yes, Quinn. He appeared as you did and commanded me to set him down.”

  “And you did it?” Quinn demanded. “What the hell were you thinking? I thought you were supposed to protect him.”

  “I concluded he would be better off in a safer place.”

  “And where might that be?”

  The clouds overhead rumbled.

  “Anywhere but here,” the dolin replied.

  Quinn swallowed. His calluses chafed against the sleeves of his mesh garment. After Zothan had counselled him against continued use of his Shade abilities, his physical transformation had slowed. To hell with that! I have to find him.

  He screwed his eyes shut, blotting out the tempest, and concentrated. Pressure built between his eyes, but he ignored it. The shape of an unfolded tesseract filled his mind—eight white cubes stacked in the shape of a cross. Connect the sides and join the top to the bottom without bending any of the edges—impossible in three dimensions, but with a fourth…

  The tesseract pulsed before collapsing into a single shining cube that turned triumphantly like a fashion model on a catwalk. The universe receded. The giant’s palm on which he stood became a small plain with a frosted sphere at its centre. I’m looking along a fourth spatial dimension. The sphere appeared far off, yet he knew he could reach it with a single step. Exhilaration faded as dizziness gripped him. He shook his head and fought to stay upright. Have to find Conor.

  Black smoke whirled before him. With his mind, he pushed outwards, and the smoke became a tunnel. Gazing into it, he searched the tumble of geometric structures with his four-space vision before settling on the round building where he had encountered the Qan-ho-nah. He extended the tunnel to penetrate the building’s outer wall… and struck a barrier. Some force was preventing him from seeing inside. Last time, he and the others had been able to enter only when the Qan-ho-nah permitted it. Their security system was just as effective against Shade intrusion, it seemed. Turning his back on the tempest, Quinn stepped into the tunnel and emerged just outside the Qan-ho-nah structure.

  The sky shone like molten silver. Quinn squinted and shaded his eyes. The Damise bombardment hadn’t resumed yet, but it was only a matter of time. He touched the wall, feeling the same cool smoothness as before. He pushed against it, but it didn’t give.

  He took a step back. “Hey, you in there!”

  No response.

  “Let me in. I want to speak with you.” Still nothing. Feeling foolish, he addressed the wall again. “I know you have my son.”

  The wall rippled, and a door-sized hole appeared. Beyond was darkness. The barrier was almost certainly two-way. That meant as soon as he entered, he wouldn’t be able to use his Shade abilities to escape. He would be trapped.

  Feeling like a freight car on rails, he crossed the threshold, and the outer wall closed behind him. A patch of light glowed a short distance away. He recognised the figure within as Conor and headed towards it.

  Conor turned his head. “Dad! What are you doing here?”

  Quinn hardened his tone. “That was going to be my question.”

  “Keiza needs our help.”

  “So you just ran off without a by-your-leave?”

  “I just figured—”

  “Well, you figured wrong!”

  Conor averted his eyes.

  So much like your mother. Quinn slapped down the thought. “Consider yourself grounded.”

  “Dad?”

  The sanction was almost comical. They were stranded on an impossible world in another universe, but he could think of no other way to drive his point home. Hurriedly, he changed the subject. “Where are the Qan-ho-nah?”

  “I… dunno. I entered through a hole in the wall, but I haven’t seen anyone. Maybe they left already.”

  “Oh, they’re here, all right.” He addressed the cloying darkness. “Hello?”

  Silence.

  “Show yourselves. Or are you afraid of a pair of puny humans?”

  Appealing to their vanity was an old ploy. Of course, every ploy is new here. He was rewarded with a buzzing sound. Seven pools of light snapped on, surrounding them. In each stood a white-robed Elinare. Quinn turned slowly. Cowls hid their faces in shadow.

  “Our efforts halted the Damise bombardment of your world,” he said. “This is strange gratitude.”

  “You have not been harmed.” As before, the reply seemed to come from all around, so Quinn could not tell which Elinare had spoken.

  “Your people attacked us without provocation.”

  “That was not our doing.”

  “You’re their”—he hunted for the right expression—“guiding light, aren’t you?”

  “Only in matters relating to the salvation of both universes.”

  “So it’s okay if they run amok in the meantime.”

  “You brought about the expiry of one of us,” the Elinare voice said. “Their reaction was predictable. And understandable.”

  Quinn’s anger simmered. “Aurek gave his life because he realised the threat the Damise’s AI posed, while the rest of you sat here staring at your noncorporeal navels. Now the Damise are at your doorstep.”

  “Keiza is responsible. She revealed the location of the Haven.”

  Quinn realised arguing was pointless, as these people had already made up their minds. “What are you going to do to her?”

  “That is not your concern.”

  “I beg to differ. She’s our… friend.” He glanced sideways and saw Conor watching him, slack-jawed.

  “She will suffer constrainment,” the Elinare voice said.

  “Prison… You’re talking about prison.”

  “She will be constrained.”

  “Why? What’s the point in that? She won’t be able to contribute to your society or even help with your hole-in-the-universe problem.”

  “It is the only option.”

  “Send her away with us.”

  The Elinare shifted their feet.

  Quinn pressed on. “Send her away with us. That way, she’ll no longer be your responsibility.”

  “She will not thank you.”

  “Maybe not. But give her the choice, at least.”

  The spotlight illuminating Quinn and Conor intensified. Quinn shielded his eyes. When the brightness faded, Keiza was standing with them. Her expression was drawn, as if she had aged ten years.

  “You heard the human’s proposal,” the Elinare voice said. “What say you?”

  “My crimes are laid bare,” she croaked. “I have jeopardised both the future of the Elinare and the Great Project. My fate is in the hands of the Qan-ho-nah.”

  “You are correct. Yet responsibility lies with us also. When we dispatched Aurek and then you to make contact with the inferior races, we underestimated their influence. They tainted you with their corrupt values. It is their nature.

  “The Haven turns. Time marches forward. We must return to study of the Problem without distraction.”

  “What about the Damise?” Quinn asked.

  “The barrier will hold. Or it will not,” the Elinare replied.

  Keiza’s eyes were downcast. “I must stay and defend my people,” she said. “I must correct the damage I have done.”

  “If you remain here, you must suffer constrainment. Out there, you may seek your own path.”

  “We’ll take care of her. She will be a part of our…” Quinn was going to say family, but the label sounded absurd. “Omesku… She will be part of our omesku.” He had no idea if the Elinare understood the Nemazi term or what Zothan might have to say about it. But if his impression was correct and Keiza’s people wanted rid of her, they would have no interest in cross-examining him.

  “Understand this. Once you pass beyond the barrier, you may never return.”

  Keiza’s eyes were misty.

  Quinn swallowed. “She knows.”

  “The suppressor field is deactivated. You may leave whenever you wish.”

  He made to turn
away but paused. “One more thing. We learned that the Damise are trying to shatter your barrier using some kind of sympathetic vibration. Maybe that information will be of use to you.”

  “Keiza told us of this.”

  “Did she mention Vil-gar?”

  “The last of his race. From Pann’s lower levels. His loyalties are suspect.”

  “I agree, but he just might come through for you. Don’t underestimate him. But don’t turn your back on him, either.”

  Smoke poured from Quinn’s hands.

  Conor’s eyes widened. “Dad?”

  A four-space tunnel whirled in front of them.

  “Dad, you’re not supposed to use Shade abilities.”

  “Not now.”

  “But, Dad!”

  “I said not now.”

  From the corner of his eye, Quinn saw Keiza turn away. He’d extended the hand of friendship, but saying goodbye to your own people, not knowing whether you would ever see them again, was a difficult thing. The decision had to be hers and hers alone. At least she has a choice, which is more than Conor and I had.

  Quinn extended the tunnel, hunting for the Elinare sphere. His head didn’t hurt as much as it had before. Maybe Zothan had overstated the risk. Perhaps the effect was like altitude training—the more you exercised, the more you acclimatised.

  The sphere nestled on the side of the hill, just as he had envisioned it, but now it lay in semidarkness, buffeted by stiff winds and ringed by white-robed Elinare. He had told Zothan to launch at the first hint of trouble. He permitted himself a wry smile. In the closest relationships, loyalty will always trump obedience. Conor looked as if he had been chewing on a lemon. Quinn extended an arm, and they stepped through the tunnel together.

  The inside of the sphere was featureless—if it had a control unit, it was well hidden. The curved walls emitted a gentle glow. Quinn relaxed his grip on four-space, allowing the swirling tunnel to dissipate. Conor stomped off, put his back to the wall, slid to the floor, and wrapped his arms around his knees.

  The dolin occupied the centre of the floor space, its head close to the apex. With Vyasa at his shoulder, Zothan approached Quinn. She looked weary, but at least she had regained consciousness.

  Quinn jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Are you aware of what’s happening out there?”