The Crucible

by Mark Whiteway

  “Poppycock!”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Poppycock, all of it! Time fronts and rising metropolises and planets that shine with no sun. There are no such things as aliens. We’ve sent out dozens of probes, and all they’ve ever found are cellular fossils. Humans are the only intelligent life there is.”

  “Then how do you explain the escape capsule you found me and Conor in?”

  “I don’t have to explain it! We have technicians pulling it apart. They’ll soon discover if it’s all a hoax.”

  Quinn leapt to his feet, scraping the chair across the floor, and leant forward on the desk, scattering papers. “Look! I’ve been grilled by your people for days. They’ve asked me the same questions over and over. I don’t give a fig whether you believe me or not. You can’t keep me here forever. I have rights!”

  Miles laid down his papers. “Forgive me. I know you’ve been through a terrible ordeal: the death of your wife, witnessing a holocaust out there in deep space… I want to help you, Regan. Perhaps I should explain a little about what I do. Would that be all right?”

  Quinn fixed him with an icy stare.

  “All right, then. I’m sure you know Earth is going through a difficult period right now. The Asian conglomerate is demanding more say in Earth’s oversight assembly. There are uprisings in Turkey and South Argentina, and a million refugees are fleeing East Africa. People need peace, and they need reassurance. It’s the job of my agency to provide it for them. Do you know how I do that, Regan? I manage truth.”

  “Manage truth.”

  “That’s right. People need stability. They need to feel good about themselves. They like to go to the Omniplex with their families, eat popcorn, laugh at the invading aliens with oversized heads, and go home, secure in the knowledge that it could never happen to them, that all they have to worry about is paying their mortgage, paying their taxes, and getting their kids into the right schools.

  “Can you imagine what would happen if people believed there were thousands of hostile aliens out there? Their lives would be turned upside down. There would be widespread panic! My agency works behind the scenes, protecting folk from what they don’t know… what they can’t know. It’s a huge responsibility. But I can’t do it alone. I need the willing support of every citizen. Will you help me, Regan?”

  Miles picked up a folder and thumbed through it, obviously not reading it. “Regan Michael Quinn. Third-generation immigrant, Eire Colony. Wife, Sarah, deceased—cause of death, xanthe fever. One son, Conor, now aged fourteen. Parents, Joseph and Martha. Paternal grandmother, Ruth A. Allen, renowned biologist and pioneer with the original expedition to Kapetyn’s star. Worked as a port official. Minor and routine juvenile incidents. Other than that, a model citizen in every respect. No history of instability or political agitation.”

  He laid the folder on top of his papers. “Your government has requested your immediate return. We have advised them that you have suffered a great deal of trauma, including some unexplained lesions, so we have placed you under observation. We have assured them that you will receive the best medical care that Earth can provide.”

  Quinn straightened. “So how long do you intend to keep me here?”

  “That’s up to you. However, after a suitable period of reeducation, I see no reason why we couldn’t release you back to the colony. Or if those memories are too painful, you might prefer to resettle here on Earth. We could set you up in a nice little cottage in a remote part of Ireland. How does that sound?”

  “What about Conor?”

  “Have they not told you?”

  “No one will answer any of my questions.”

  “I’m sorry about that. I’ll have a word with someone,” Miles said. “He was severely wounded, but freezing helped stem the blood loss. The doctors say he should make a full recovery.”

  Quinn felt the tension flow out of him. “Thank you for letting me know.”

  “Mind telling me how he came to be shot through with an arrow?”

  Quinn stared into the middle distance.

  Miles shrugged. “Well, I suppose it’s not important.”

  “I’ll take him with me,” Quinn said.

  Miles’s face fell. “I’m afraid that’s going to be a little difficult. To put it bluntly, he’s not your son. Superficially, he may look and sound like your son, but DNA comparison shows significant differences. We’re not sure if he’s a mutation or some kind of copy. Either way, he isn’t human, so releasing him into the general population isn’t an option. We have no idea what he might be capable of. Just imagine if he were to have a child—it might corrupt the human genome. No, I’m afraid the risk is too great.”

  “What do you intend to do with him?”

  “In a day or two, he should be strong enough for us to transfer him to a long-term facility better suited to his needs. He’ll be well cared for. Don’t worry—I’ll make arrangements for you to visit, assuming your cooperation with the program. I think you’ll come to see that this arrangement is best for everyone.”

  Quinn slumped into the chair. Miles gave him a kindly smile as he gathered up his papers and stuffed them back in the briefcase. “I can see that all of this is a lot for you to process. We’ll talk again soon.” He marched out of the room.

  Seconds later, two black-uniformed guards came to escort him back to his accommodations.

  ~

  Quinn sat on the bunk in his three-metre-square cell and thought of home.

  Funny thing about home. People say if you leave for a while and then return years later, it doesn’t feel like home anymore. Of course, Earth never had been his home, and he hadn’t been away for more than a few weeks. But if he went back to Eire Colony, would it be any different? The colony might not have changed, but he had. He had met exotic creatures, travelled to another universe, and shaken hands with death more times than he cared to remember. He was no longer the person who had uprooted his son and headed off into the wilderness in a desperate effort to put his wife’s death behind himself. He couldn’t imagine fitting back into his old life at the colony. He couldn’t imagine fitting in anywhere.

  He thought of escape. He could easily enter four-space and locate Conor, but where would they go then? Even if they managed to evade Earth’s security forces and sneak aboard a transport, they would only end up on the Moon, Mars, Titan, or one of the outer colonies, where he would soon be recognised, dragged back, and dissected for the sake of his newly revealed Shade abilities.

  No escape. No home.

  He lay down on the bunk and stared at the ceiling.

  The air congealed into a swirl of dark smoke. A creature stepped forth with a single claw, thin, shiny black limbs, narrow torso, and an axe-shaped head with a shining yellow eye set in either side.

  Quinn sat bolt upright and spoke in Ardalan. “Zothan! You’re alive!

  Zothan nodded. “Magatha rashan. I, too, am pleased to see you, Quinn. We tracked your escape capsule and locked onto your implant. Did you save Conor?”

  “He’s… on the mend. What happened to the Shasallah?”

  “We lost a third of the crew, but Syn-moon rallied the survivors. We eventually brought the fires under control, and the Ferike towed our ship to the Korradan station. It is undergoing repairs.”

  “What about the Damise and the Agantzane?”

  “Many of their ships were destroyed, but a number managed to escape. No one knows where they are now.” Zothan took in the three-by-three cell. “This is where you are living now?”

  “It’s complicated.” Quinn changed the subject. “You travelled a long way just to visit. Is something wrong?”

  “Yes, Quinn, but I hesitate to ask even though we are of the same omesku.”

  Quinn smiled. “Omesku jhazeel akhar.”

  “A nucleus stands or falls together,” Zothan recited. “You speak before knowing my request. Your loyalty is admirable as ever and speaks well of your race.”

  I could introduce you to some humans t
hat might change your view on that. Quinn smiled. “Ask away, my friend.”

  “The dolin has left my world, along with its gormgast following. They are now on Kastarann. The Free Alliance decided that as long as they remained on that world, the best course would simply be to leave them alone. However, they are now building something.”

  “What?”

  “We cannot tell, but it is large, and its power output is considerable.”

  “Could be anything,” Quinn pointed out.

  “The Agantzane conceived the dolin as a weapon. That was its sole purpose. Ultimately, they deactivated their creations because they could not control them. Ximun reactivated one. If it manages to reactivate the others, the consequences could be devastating for your people and mine.

  “Ximun gave the dolin he reactivated a new directive, protecting you and Conor. It cannot harm you. You are the only ones who can safely go down to Kastarann and determine what is happening before it is too late. I realise it is much to ask, as you have only just returned to your own people, but—”

  “I’ll do it,” Quinn said. “I have just one condition.”

  “Say it.”

  “We take Conor with us.”

  “Of course,” Zothan said.

  The dark whirlpool grew until it filled the cell. Quinn and Zothan stepped into it together and vanished in a whirl of smoke.

  In a corner of the ceiling, a pinpoint green light came on, a tiny camera lens closed, and the light winked out.

  END OF BOOK FOUR

  Author’s Note

  Thank you for reading this installment of the Arc of the Universe series. Many more adventures lie ahead of you in my current series if you haven’t yet read them or future ones still to be written!

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