The Crucible

by Mark Whiteway

  Quinn frowned. “So you’re saying I should… what… simply give Vil-gar the benefit of the doubt?”

  “I cannot tell you what to think or believe. But among all the races I have encountered, I find the attitude of humans to be the most puzzling. From the moment the Agantzane took you and tried to bend you to their will, you resisted their system of summary justice, yet you are quick to pronounce judgement on others. Perhaps you are not so unalike after all.”

  The facility vanished, and he was back on the clifftop.

  She leaned in, pecked him on the cheek, and smiled. “I believe that’s a human tradition.”

  He reddened.

  “I hope this is not goodbye,” she said.

  “So do I.”

  “Take care.”

  The cliff and the sea faded, and he was back in the cavern. Flickering fire cast dancing sprites on the rough stone walls.

  Grey’s epidermis was tinged with orange, and her tentacles undulated. “I hear them.”

  Vyasa turned to Quinn, wide-eyed. “It’s like a miracle. What did you do?”

  “I, uh… arranged a little therapy for her. It seems to be working. We’ll still have to protect her from dehydration, but at least she now has a reason to keep going. I suggest we all get some rest. Tomorrow, we’ll work out how best to proceed. One of us will keep a lookout at all times, in case the Nemazi find us. I’ll stand first watch, then Vyasa, then our Osei, if she’s able. All right?”

  “Yes, Quinn,” Grey said, her voice stronger already.

  Vyasa nodded and lay next to the dying fire. Grey drew in her tentacles, and her body deflated with a hiss.

  Quinn sat cross-legged at the chamber’s entry hole then located the curved Kimn blade from his pack. He had no clear idea what he might do with it, but it gave him reassurance.

  As he hefted its ornate handle, he weighed Keiza’s words. Had he been wrong about Vil-gar all along? Were humans as quick to judge as the Agantzane?

  Placing the blade before himself, he settled down to pass the hours.

  ~

  Hoots, squeals, and caterwauls from beyond the outer cavern signalled the onset of evening. From his previous visit to this world, Quinn knew it as home to a variety of wild beasts, many of them dangerous and most of them nocturnal. Out in the hills, a nightly symphony of life and death was being performed.

  With Grey’s improvement, Quinn’s despair lifted a little, like early-morning fog. He might still have one thing left to bargain with—his reputation as Shanata Tamah.

  He saw the way Durga’s omesku had reacted to him. They had dealt a crushing defeat to the gormgast. According to Zothan, word of the Shanata Tamah’s return had spread throughout the Nemazi. If he could shake off Durga’s posse and make contact with a different nucleus, maybe they would take him in. According to Zothan, not all zathaar were as ruthlessly ambitious as Durga. He might be able to strike a more favourable deal.

  However, that path was full of pitfalls. Keiza had cast him in the mould of T. E. Lawrence, but Lawrence had grappled with a weakened Ottoman empire, its army spread thinly over the vast Arabian Peninsula. The gormgast were a far different prospect. Semisentient, part flesh, part machine, they had no sense of morale. They could not experience fear or discouragement. Up until now, the Nemazi had fought a valiant struggle, but if Durga was telling the truth, they were still losing. One triumph wasn’t enough to reverse the tide.

  Even with a string of victories against the gormgast, the Nemazi would likely need months to purge the entire planet, perhaps years. With the AI’s conquest of the Consensus already close to completion, Quinn simply didn’t have that kind of time.

  The fog of despair began to settle once more.

  “Quinn.”

  His name sounded distorted. A series of feral growls and caws followed, convincing him that he must have imagined it.

  “Quinn.”

  There it is again. He did not recognise the voice, but it seemed to be coming from the outer cave. Had the Nemazi finally tracked them down?

  Closing his fingers around the knife, he crawled into the hole and emerged in the outer chamber. The fissure leading to the outside cast a slice of moonlight across the floor. The centre of the chamber was filled with a swirling vortex. He clambered to his feet and waited, blade in hand, but no one came through.

  “Quinn,” the vortex said again.

  “Who are you?” Quinn demanded. “What do you want?”

  “Step through.”

  It smelt like a trap. But who was behind it? If it was the Nemazi sent to track them, then why so coy? Why not just come through and finish the job?

  “Step through now.” The voice was insistent.

  “I won’t leave the others,” Quinn said.

  “You must. If you do not, then they will expire.”

  Quinn weighed the implied threat. If this was Durga’s Nemazi, then he had no doubt they would carry it out. He could either comply and risk just himself or refuse and risk the others as well. “Let me at least tell them where I’m going.”

  “No. They would only try to prevent you. You must come through now.”

  “Very well.” Quinn took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and stepped into the dark whirlpool.

  ~

  Quinn opened his eyes. The swathe of moonlight was gone, and the darkness had intensified. Three cracks of light from high above suggested he was in a much larger chamber.

  “Where are you? Show yourself!” His cry echoed and died away into silence.

  “They are expired. All of them.” The voice sounded as if it were next to his ear.

  Quinn frowned. “Zothan, is that you?”

  A light snapped on, blinding Quinn. He blinked away afterimages and tried to make out the shape behind the light.

  “They are all expired,” Zothan said. “Adza, Yahani, Balaki—everyone who didn’t make it to a lifeboat.”

  “You’re okay. Thank goodness. I wasn’t sure I’d see you again.”

  “They followed you, and you led them off a cliff.”

  “What?”

  “The Japhet—an ancient Founder Race—gone.”

  “The Agantzane were responsible for that, not me.”

  “Shana,” Zothan said. “An entire planet destroyed.”

  “What are you talking about? I had nothing to do with that!”

  “Why do you think the Damise chose that moment to move against the Consensus after three thousand years?”

  “How should I know?” Quinn cried.

  “Do you think it mere coincidence that you turned up in the Shana system less than a day after it was pulverised into rocks? You went there to get the Shanata’s help in tracking down the Founder Races. Everywhere you go, you leave piles of corpses. The Agantzane bestowed hakanah—the death touch—upon you. And you have fulfilled their purpose.”

  Zothan had undergone torture and the forcible amputation of a limb. In humans, extreme trauma could warp the mind, leaving the person a distorted view of reality. Nemazi had always seemed much tougher, but every race had its breaking point.

  Quinn closed his eyes. “Look, I’m truly sorry for what happened to you. Maybe we can get you some help. I might be able to use my influence as Shanata Tamah to approach another nucleus and get a Nemazi medic to examine you.”

  “Durga did me a favour. By making me hokkah, he gave me clear vision. For the first time in many days, I know what I must do.” He set the beacon on the floor.

  Quinn backed away.

  Zothan’s eyes shone like golden stars. “Expiring you will save many lives.”

  Quinn backed away from the circle of light. A twisting cloud of smoke appeared in front of him. Zothan stepped from the anomaly and slashed with his claw, narrowly missing Quinn’s head. He’s serious.

  Quinn staggered away and fumbled in his pack. The twin-horned beam device was gone. He had lost it rescuing Conor from the Medyran care facility. The only weapon he had was the Kimn ceremonial blade. He had no desire to harm Zo
than, but maybe he could use it to hold off the Nemazi long enough to make him listen to reason.

  He retrieved the blade, skidded to a halt, and turned slowly. The circle of light from the discarded beacon was like an empty stage. His night vision was inferior to Zothan’s, so extra illumination would help level the playing field, but it would also restrict his area of movement.

  A wisp of smoke caught the corner of Quinn’s eye. He glanced up just in time to see a vortex forming over his head. Zothan leapt through, kicking Quinn in the shoulder. Quinn tumbled in a heap and rolled away. Zothan came after him, swinging his claw like a sabre, his movements a blur.

  Quinn recalled the horror of watching a Nemazi assassin slaughter a Grok with a single claw stroke. Nemazi were faster and more agile than any human. They had the ability to move along a four-space axis and phase through walls. Unarmed and with only one claw, Zothan was still more than a match for him, even with Quinn’s death touch.

  Quinn scrabbled away towards the pool of light. Zothan reappeared at its centre, stared at Quinn for a moment, then crushed the beacon underfoot, thrusting them back into darkness.

  Quinn retreated slowly and waited for his pupils to dilate once more. “You can’t do this. We have shared water. We are of the same omesku. Brothers of water do not turn on each other.”

  “You are human,” Zothan replied. “A Fixed Race outworlder. I should never have joined with you. Fixed Races brought about the Transformation that destroyed my world. They can never be trusted.”

  He vanished in a whirl of smoke.

  Quinn scoured the gloom. The artificial floor was canted slightly and populated with shadows that seemed oddly familiar, though he couldn’t place them. He pushed the thought away. Fixed Races brought about the Transformation that destroyed my world. Should he tell Zothan the truth?

  A surging whirlpool appeared to Quinn’s left. As he turned to flee, Zothan’s claw raked across his back, shredding his mesh cloak. Quinn fled, stumbling as he ran. When he turned, the whirlpool was gone.

  He’ll either give me a reprieve or rip my throat out. Right now, I probably don’t have much to lose. Panting, he raised his head and yelled at the ceiling. “You’re wrong! The Founder Races weren’t responsible for the Transformation. The Nemazi did it to themselves.”

  Zothan growled in the darkness. “You’re lying.”

  “I have no reason to lie. Neither did the Elinare who told me. He witnessed what really happened all those years ago.” Quinn paused to catch his breath. So far, his throat seemed intact. “The Consensus was established by the three Founder Races after a long conflict. They invited other sentient races to join the new alliance, the first being the Nemazi and the Agantzane. Both desperately wanted access to the Founder Races’ highly destructive space-time technology. Under the principle of one plus one equals two, Consensus races were forbidden from competing openly, but that same law held them unaccountable for acts committed before joining. So each commenced secret projects designed to annihilate the other.

  “The Nemazi constructed and tested their device here in the nebula. But it went terribly wrong, irradiating the nebula worlds with exotic particles and causing the event you know as the Transformation.

  “The Agantzane rewrote history, blaming the Founder Races for the disaster as a way of gaining ascendancy within the Consensus. Your people were too preoccupied with surviving day by day to object.” Quinn held his breath.

  “I do not believe you,” Zothan said. “You would say anything to stay alive.”

  Quinn laughed without mirth. “That’s true. But what I told you about the Transformation is also true. Think of me what you like, but your people are not victims.”

  A fresh portal spiralled in front of Quinn.

  Zothan stepped forth, faint moonlight reflecting off his adamantine skin. “You will expire here today with those lies on your lips.”

  ~

  Quinn dashed towards one of the dense shadows sprouting from the floor, although taking cover from a being able to move through four-space was probably a waste of time. He briefly considered attempting a four-space jump himself, but the last time he tried to use Shade abilities, he had passed out. If the same thing happened again, it would all be over. He tucked the idea away as a last resort.

  It’s him or me. The prospect of using his death touch revolted Quinn, especially when it involved a trusted friend, someone who had saved his life more than once. However, Quinn was coming to the realisation that he might have no choice. Even then, it would not be easy. The chitin in Zothan’s claw was invulnerable to his death touch, as was much of Zothan’s blackened, hardened skin.

  Aspects of this whole situation made no sense. They pecked at him like a flock of hungry starlings. Why bring him here? Zothan could have slaughtered him far more quickly and easily in the confined space of the cave. By announcing his presence, Zothan had thrown away the element of surprise. Why all the song and dance?

  An answer came to him like a kick in the gut—Rahada. This kind of elaborate setup was much more her style. But if he were right, then all this was nothing more than one of her scenarios. Previously, he had undergone a change in perception as the scene had shifted away from reality, but in the darkness of the cave, he would hardly have noticed. He had only recently ordered Keiza to leave his mind to care for Grey, leaving Rahada to operate unchecked. Surely, that couldn’t be coincidence.

  He could die in one of her scenarios as easily as in the real world. But if he could just figure out what she was up to…

  He skidded to a halt. “Rahada!” His voice echoed around the chamber. “Rahada, answer me!”

  Smoke billowed around him, forming three huge spirals. Zothan’s form flashed from one to another and back again, faster than Quinn’s eye could follow. A cyclone shoved Quinn backwards like a giant fist. If it was her, then what was she trying to prove?

  Quinn battled the wind, but it continued pushing him down the floor’s incline as a massive shape loomed behind him. The spiral anomalies collapsed. Zothan emerged and gripped Quinn’s neck with his claw.

  As the claw pierced Quinn’s skin and he choked, he spotted a tiny area of exposed, pink flesh near the Nemazi’s eye. He reached out with his fingertips…

  Stone ground against stone. A bright orange beam swept the floor, settling on Quinn and Zothan, and a voice boomed.

  “Protect the subjects!”

  ~

  The dolin reached down, its immense thumb and forefinger poised to crush Zothan.

  Zothan released Quinn and stepped back. “Core-directive live test complete.”

  Quinn dropped to his knees, wheezing.

  The dolin froze. “Test…”

  “Test complete,” Zothan repeated. “Cease operations.”

  The dolin drew itself erect. “Evaluation.”

  “Reaction time was slow. The subject could easily have been expired. Your proximity alarm also does not appear to be functioning adequately. We were almost on top of you before it activated. Replay entire sequence and correlate with established norms.”

  Quinn massaged his throat. “What the hell?”

  Zothan silenced him with an imperceptible shake of the head before addressing the dolin once more. “Initiate repairs as appropriate. Report when complete.”

  “Commencing diagnostic as instructed.”

  Zothan approached Quinn and knelt beside him. “The dolin will be occupied for some while. Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” His fingers were sticky with his own blood. “No! What are you doing?”

  “I have reactivated the dolin. I apologise for the deception.”

  “Don’t you think you could’ve have let me in on it?”

  “No, Quinn. I could not. For the plan to work, it was essential that the dolin perceive the threat to be real. Your reactions had to be genuine.”

  “I don’t understand. The last time I spoke to it, it shut down completely. None of you could get it going again.”

  “That is true
,” Zothan said. “However, while we were guests of Durga, I theorised that a voluntary shutdown would not permit a unit to override its core directive. It was therefore a reasonable assumption that the unit would have to maintain some sort of covert surveillance so it could intervene if it perceived either your or Conor’s life to be in danger.

  “You risked your life and mine on an assumption?”

  “I did say it was a reasonable assumption, Quinn. Your plan to form an alliance with my people had stalled. We needed the dolin to tip the balance in our favour.”

  Fine. Assuming I can get it to cooperate this time… “So all that stuff about me being responsible for the deaths of millions…”

  “A ruse. Your reaction was most believable.”

  “No kidding!”

  “Your own ruse was… unexpected,” Zothan said.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your story that my people caused the Transformation was a clever invention. For a moment, it threw me completely off balance.”

  “It wasn’t a story.”

  “You are saying that was what really happened?”

  Quinn shrugged his shoulders. “How should I know? I wasn’t there. I believe Aurek was telling the truth, but who’s to say his interpretation is right? Nemazi have built a strong and independent society with a proud tradition against overwhelming odds. Who am I to come along thousands of years later and undermine your people’s view of their past or question who they are?”

  “But if you are correct, and it is all built on a lie—”

  “What does it matter? Humans have rewritten their history more times than I can count. The important thing is where you are now, not how you got here.”

  “I am not sure my people would agree,” Zothan said.

  “Right now, I’m more concerned about you. Your… condition.”

  “Loss of a claw has not impaired my abilities.”

  Having just come within a hairbreadth of his own demise, Quinn could testify to the truth of that. “I was thinking more of your now being an outcast.”