The Crucible

by Mark Whiteway

  Grey’s tentacles drooped. Dimitra’s expression was set.

  Yahani gave a single nod. “Course set. Engines to full. We should reach their lines in… twenty seconds.”

  Quinn pressed his knuckles against the table.

  “Odd,” Yahani said. “The active ships are retreating at speed.”

  Before Quinn could frame a question, the universe exploded in a flash.

  ~

  Blinding light prised open Quinn’s eyelids. He lay in an immense golden chamber. Deep-throated laughter shook the air. He scrambled to his feet and gazed up. A thirty-metre-high potbellied monk with a round face threw back his bald head and roared. Its body was of a male gone to seed, but the features were Rahada’s.

  Her shoulder movements slowed, and her voice resonated through the chamber. “So what are you going to do now?”

  The question implied he was still alive, which Quinn took to be good news. “What happened?”

  “What happened? What happened? You fell for it, you idiot! The Damise set a trap, and you bumbled right into it!”

  “Trap? What trap?”

  “You still don’t get it, do you? Their AI is not just a biotechnologically invasive program. It operates as a single unit. It adapts to any given situation. You cannot outthink it. You cannot escape it.”

  Quinn glanced at the monk’s bare foot, big enough to stamp him out of existence. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

  “The AI let you disable those ships then waited for you to attempt to move through before detonating all eight of their power cores.”

  “They were able to see us all along, weren’t they? They could detect us through the net.”

  “Very good.”

  Quinn’s stomach turned to acid. “Their crews committed suicide.”

  “It’s not a ‘they.’ It’s a single entity.”

  Quinn nodded. “You’re right. I can’t defeat this thing on my own. I need help.”

  “The Qan-ho-nah will not assist you.”

  “I’m not talking about them. I’m talking about you.”

  The giant monk with Rahada’s face bent towards him. “Do you think me a fool? You are trying to trick me, just as you did in the Theseus re-creation.”

  Quinn stood his ground. “I had no choice. You designed that scenario to kill me. This time, there’s no trick.”

  “I have free access to all of your thought processes.”

  “Then you know I’m telling you the truth. Imprisoning Keiza is wrong. Free her, and I will consent to your occupation of my mind.”

  “Your chances of survival are virtually nonexistent, human.”

  “Then you have nothing to lose.”

  Rahada closed her eyes, rested her hands on her thighs, and pressed her thumbs and forefingers together. After a minute that felt like an age, she opened her eyes. “The moment I sense treachery, I will end your existence.”

  “Fine.”

  The air beside Quinn shimmered, and Keiza appeared in a filthy white smock and iron manacles.

  The manacles vanished, and she massaged her raw wrists and ankles. “Quinn?” she croaked. “What’s going on?”

  “You’re free.”

  She raised her eyes and stared up at the grinning monk. “What have you done?”

  “We’ve reached an agreement,” Quinn replied.

  “Don’t do anything she says.”

  “We have to end the standoff.”

  Keiza shook her head. “You don’t understand. An Elinare who would torture another or occupy a sentient being against their will is capable of anything.”

  “I’ve agreed to let her reside in my mind for the time being.”

  “You’ve what?”

  Quinn sighed. “Look, I have two battles going on right now—the one in here and the one out there. I can’t fight both. Besides, we need her.”

  “You cannot trust her.”

  Rahada raised her hands and brought her immense fists together. “I should silence this one.”

  “If you harm her in any way, our agreement is finished,” Quinn said. “And I will do everything in my power to purge you from my mind.”

  Rahada slapped her thighs and laughed until the tears flowed. “You two deserve each other. Very well, I will send you back. But remember my warning.”

  Golden light filled Quinn’s vision once more then faded to the green illumination of the control area’s emergency lighting.

  ~

  Flames flickered, and acrid smoke burned Quinn’s nostrils. His ribs ached as if he had fallen against something.

  Lying on the floor beside him was Dimitra. Her pupils were dilated, her mouth was open, and her neck rested at an odd angle. She was dead. Somewhere far off, an alarm wailed. His ears felt as if they were filled with cotton wool. He tried to clear his head.

  Zothan bent over him and growled.

  Quinn could not make out the words, but he raised a hand. “I’m fine.” With his other hand, he reached for the edge of the table and dragged himself up. The red patch on the control-area door had faded to dull orange—the insurgents had halted their attack. Bodies lay scattered about, only a few moving. Fires were taking hold in half a dozen places. Yahani stood transfixed by the holographic display, which stuttered like an old movie. Grey’s tentacles waved as if she were sending a distress signal.

  Quinn’s mind seemed mired in treacle. He needed to ask something… something important… Yes, yes, that was it. “Status… What’s our status?”

  Yahani shook his head. “It’s difficult to be precise, owing to sensor damage. The net is down. I cannot get it back up. At least five sections have been exposed to space. Emergency field bulkheads are in place, but I do not know how long they will last. Life support is barely functioning. Fire-suppression systems are out. Engines are unresponsive. We’re drifting.” His nimble fingers swept through the display. “Attempting transfer of power to life-support systems.”

  Quinn studied the pattern of red lights that represented the ships ringing Nemazi. Most were static, but a few were on the move.

  He pointed. “What are they doing?”

  “Eight AI ships are closing on our position,” Grey trilled.

  Quinn whirled on Yahani. “Forget life support. We have to get this ship moving right now!”

  “I am not sure that’s possible,” Yahani said.

  Quinn addressed Grey. “You’re the engineering adept. How about it?”

  “I can only function as adept within the Unity,” Grey replied in a quavering voice. “The Unity is gone.”

  “I have three chuthahs inbound,” Yahani said. “Impact in… four minutes.”

  Quinn focussed on Grey. “You can’t connect with Osei in the wider Consensus?”

  “Not alone. The local Unity’s mental strength serves as a… an amplifier. Without it, I am cut off.”

  Just as if you had been struck blind. “Look, I realise how difficult this must be for you. But although you may not have access to the minds of other Osei, you still have the knowledge.”

  “You do not understand,” Grey said. “Without the others, thoughts are… chaotic.”

  “All right, all right. Then blot everything else out and just listen to my voice. The engines. We have to start the engines. What are our options?”

  “I… do not know.”

  Quinn knew next to nothing about the star drives used by human vessels, let alone those of the Consensus. But neither did the other Osei. Their system of adepts allowed individuals to accumulate specialised knowledge that they could then share with their Unity. Maybe the Unity’s role was not to propose solutions to problems. Maybe it was to provide calmness, serenity—a mental landscape in which to operate.

  “Okay, I want you to think of a river,” Quinn said.

  Yahani stared at him as if he had lost his mind, but Quinn pressed on. “There’s a bubbling stream flowing down a mountainside. On its banks are flowers with… with big yellow blooms. Petals droop in the water like a lad
y in a boat, scooping water with her fingers. The water is like glass—you can see clear to the bottom. Fish slip between the smooth round stones. They have wide tails and pink scales and whiskers that—”

  “We’re moving,” Yahani announced. “Though I’m not sure how. AI vessels are in pursuit.”

  “Interface patched through RDN,” Grey said. “Control is sluggish. Cyclic regulator gives a point-seven-three-rhadeon variance. It will not settle down.”

  Quinn had no idea what any of that meant, but he had no time for an engineering lesson. “Can you put us down on the surface?”

  “I can make a controlled descent, but the gravimetric-field generator is destroyed.”

  “The field slows the ship during its final descent phase,” Yahani explained. “Without it, we will come in hard. The outer hull will likely not survive the impact.”

  The floor juddered, and the walls rang like a bell. Quinn clung to the table, narrowly managing to stay upright.

  “We are under attack!” Yahani yelled. “Damage to forward section. Rear section shows two more compartments venting atmosphere. I get no reading at all from the landing bay.”

  Conor… “Get as many aboard the escape capsule as you can!”

  Yahani shook his head. “It has been destroyed.”

  “Escape capsules are situated at key points throughout the ship,” Grey said. “Though I cannot tell if any are still functioning.”

  Quinn glanced at the blackened double doors. “Then it looks like we’re going on a little hike.”

  Boom! The green emergency lighting cut out. Shadows moved among the fires. As Quinn reached into the darkness, the lighting came back on, flickering as if it had a case of the jitters.

  Yahani stared into the tabletop display. “You must leave now.”

  “You’re coming, too,” Quinn said.

  Yahani shook his head. “Automated landing systems are out. Someone has to stay here and monitor our descent.”

  “As engineering adept, I am the most qualified,” Grey trilled.

  “You also may be the last of your kind,” Yahani said. “It is your duty to survive.”

  The control section canted, and Quinn staggered backwards, fighting to regain his balance. Circuits arced, spawning fresh fires.

  “Go!” Yahani yelled. “Quickly!”

  “Wait!” Quinn delved into his pack and pulled out a dull red crystal. “Do you know what this is?”

  Yahani frowned. “Where did you get it?”

  “One of your people gave it to me.”

  “It’s a gar-sakar—a nonlocal tether.”

  “A what?”

  “Touch it. Speak to it. Now, you must leave!”

  With a grimace, Quinn pushed away from the table and headed for the blackened double doors. They loomed in front of him but did not open.

  Zothan cracked open a small panel in the wall and examined a glittering crystal array. “The actuator is fused.”

  Grey sidled up, and a dozen tiny tentacles probed the mechanism. A single door creaked then jerked open half a metre.

  Quinn peered through the gap but could see only darkness. He glanced over his shoulder. A small group of Shanata survivors had joined their group, some with face masks discarded and fear etched on their features. At the central table, Yahani stood fixated on the display as the flames took hold.

  Farewell. Quinn took a deep breath and slipped through the opening.

  ~

  As Quinn emerged into the darkness beyond the control area, his foolishness rebounded on him. Before the attack began, the Shanata insurgents had been doing their best to burn through the double doors. They had gone quiet, but that did not mean they weren’t still lurking somewhere, ready to blast a hole in him or slit his throat. Out of everyone in his ragtag party, he was the least capable of defending himself.

  He swallowed, waiting for the flash of a beam or the glint of a blade, but all was darkness and silence.

  Emboldened, he took a step forward. As his eyes grew accustomed to the dark, he could discern tiny lights in the ceiling. Stars? Fear gripped his throat.

  “Emergency field bulkhead,” Grey said. “The first attack must have ruptured the outer hull in this section.”

  “Where are the insurgents?” Quinn asked.

  “Probably evacuated into space during the initial depressurisation. The field is holding, but power-transfer systems are unpredictable. We should hurry.”

  Quinn shook his head, trying to banish an image of freezing mannequins floating lifeless in the void. “Right… right.”

  A handheld beacon snapped on behind him, lighting the way. Quinn started down the corridor. Boom! The floor bucked, pitching him against the wall. The field separating them from the cold of space fizzled. He hurried on, found a large elevator, waved the others inside, and punched the lowest panel. With the ship falling apart around them, the elevator was a risk, but he was running out of options.

  As the levels flashed past, he addressed Grey. “I want you to get the survivors to the nearest escape capsule.”

  “What about you?”

  “I told you I have to find Conor.”

  “There’s no time. We’ll shortly be entering the planet’s atmosphere.”

  “I can’t leave him behind. He’s my… Unity.”

  The faceless creature’s skin reddened then faded to grey once more. “I understand.”

  The elevator jerked to a halt, disgorging them near the conveyor platform. Quinn checked the corridor then nodded to Grey. “All right, get going.”

  “I will find you on the surface,” Grey said.

  The optimist of the group. Quinn permitted himself a wry smile. “See you there.” He headed for the platform, dimly aware of Zothan’s shadowlike presence behind him.

  ~

  After two further impact shocks, Quinn emerged onto a deserted platform flooded with the ship’s lurid emergency lighting.

  “Power is out,” Zothan said. “A wrecked conveyor is blocking the tracks.”

  Quinn peered down the tunnel. The dim green light faded into darkness. He must be using four-space vision. “All right. So we’re not going to reach the rear section that way. Can you locate Conor?”

  “I will try.”

  Zothan froze. Quinn fought the urge to go over and shake him by the shoulders.

  Finally, Zothan spoke. “He is in the launch bay. Vyasa is with him.”

  Quinn reddened. He’d forgotten all about her. “Can you transfer us there?”

  “Using Shade abilities may worsen your condition.”

  “Well, we don’t have a lot of choice, do we?” Quinn said, more curtly than he’d intended.

  “A moment.”

  Zothan closed his eyes, and smoke poured from his claws.

  Quinn waved him forward and followed him into the dark, swirling vortex.

  ~

  “Dad!”

  As Quinn stepped onto the hangar deck, Conor ran towards him but stopped short of a hug. The self-consciousness of teenage years…

  The deck was a mess of fallen gantries and smashed transports. At the far end, the dolin had not shifted position, its eye still dark.

  Vyasa settled next to Conor in a flutter of leathery wings and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder in a way Quinn found unsettling. “The ship is under attack. What happened?”

  “I’ll explain later,” Quinn said. “Right now, we have to abandon ship.”

  “The crew already left. They took the last functioning escape capsule.”

  “Zothan will transfer us to the surface.”

  “I cannot do that, Quinn,” Zothan said.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Sustaining a four-space tunnel over such a distance is difficult, even with a transport stone. I cannot take more than one other person.”

  “Then take us one by one. Conor first.”

  The walls and floor juddered.

  Vyasa glanced around as though she expected them to crush her. “We’ve en
tered the upper atmosphere.”

  “Quickly!” Quinn said. “We haven’t much time.”

  Zothan shook his head. “You do not understand. The ship is moving at great speed relative to the planet. If I transfer to the planet with Conor, I will not be able to return for you.”

  Quinn pressed his lips together. “Then get him to the surface.”

  “No, Dad! I’m not leaving without you.”

  Quinn addressed Zothan. “Go now.”

  Zothan lowered his head and opened his claws. Dark wisps of smoke formed in the air in front of him.

  Conor turned to run. Quinn grabbed him by both arms, and the boy squirmed.

  “Wait!” Vyasa blurted. “What about the Elinare sphere?”

  “The sphere was disabled,” Quinn said. “Don’t you remember?”

  “Only by zahars. Zahars drain energy, but they don’t damage systems. Maybe the sphere has recharged.”

  Quinn frowned. “Is that possible?”

  All eyes turned to Zothan.

  Zothan raised his head, and the smoke faded. “I know little of Elinare technology. I cannot be certain.”

  The landing bay shuddered and creaked.

  “How long before this ship impacts the surface?” Quinn asked.

  “No more than twenty minutes in your time,” Zothan replied.

  “You have ten.”

  In a flash, Zothan turned and headed for the sphere in his long, loping stride.

  ~

  As they passed the dolin, Quinn glanced up at the silent stone monolith. He had talked with it, even held a philosophical discussion of sorts. But had it ever truly been alive? The question was irrelevant. Death made everything irrelevant.

  Zothan touched the side of the sphere, and a panel slid open.

  Quinn followed him inside. The walls were lit by a faint pearlescent glow. Something works, at least. He allowed himself a glimmer of hope.

  The sphere was empty, with no control panel or physical interface. Last time, Zothan had instructed its internal AI with voice commands. He’s the engineer. This is his bailiwick.

  “Diagnostic,” Zothan said.

  The walls were silent.

  “Initiate diagnostic and report.”

  Maybe I should offer to get out and push. Quinn gave himself a mental slap.