by Isaac Hooke
He realized he’d released the grenade a little too close, because Sinive had a small patch of flame on her upper back as well.
“Ah crap,” Tane said. He rubbed at it, but all he did was transfer the flame to his glove.
“Nicely done,” Sinive said. “Just let it burn out. My suit AI tells me such a small amount won’t eat through the fabric.”
An alert popped up on Tane’s HUD.
Warning. Suit glove on fire.
He pulled up the diagnostic window, and like Sinive said, given the intensity and expected duration of the flames, suit integrity wouldn’t be compromised.
Tane ignored the fire on his glove and returned his attention to the road ahead. He continued to follow the dark strings, which were located directly in front of him now. Heading due east. He squinted, curious as to the final destination, but the dark filaments were too thin to discern beyond more than ten meters or so.
“They’re breaking away!” Sinive said.
Tane glanced over his shoulder. It was true: the kraals were abandoning the pursuit.
“Strange,” Tane said.
“Maybe they’re afraid of whatever it is sources those threads of yours,” Sinive said. “We probably should be, too.”
Tane slowed down, and moved to the side of the street, staying close to the nearby buildings.
The strands became thicker, and more solid, the closer he came to whatever it was he was connected to. He could see the filaments for at least twenty meters ahead of him now.
The flames on his hand abruptly burned themselves out, as did the small amount on Sinive’s shoulder.
“Told you,” Sinive commented.
Tane and Sinive reached a town square shortly. Surrounded by closely placed blurry buildings, it was some kind of temporary market, judging from the tents and stalls distributed throughout.
“Well that’s interesting,” Sinive said.
She was gazing at a tall object that floated in the middle of the square. It looked like an oval-shaped lens made of infinite blackness, an iris torn into the fabric of reality. The material seemed to absorb light from the surrounding space, so that it was darker than anything Tane had ever seen. Darker even than the blackness inside of his personal storage device.
All of the threads emerging from Tane’s body terminated in that lens. The individual filaments entered the darkness at equally spaced intervals along the left and right sides, so that they almost appeared to be tentacles.
Tane slowly approached, wending his way through the stalls. He kept the rifle raised, scanning the area for signs of ambush. Sinive followed behind him, doing the same, both of her pistols drawn and ready to fire.
The pair arrived at the black iris, which floated a meter and a half above the ground, and extended another two meters higher from that point. The tendrils emerging from his body seemed almost solid now. And they were thick, about one centimeter each in diameter.
“What the hell is it?” Tane said.
“Dunno,” Sinive said. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”
“Why do I have this crazy urge to touch it?” Tane said.
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Sinive replied.
Against his better judgment, Tane reached an arm toward the iris. As his gloved hand approached, the fingers appeared to elongate very slightly, as if the lens was not only consuming all nearby light, but distorting the spacetime immediately surrounding it as well.
“Don’t,” Sinive said.
He froze, and glanced at her. She was only partially facing him, her pistols pointing out into the town square beyond.
“But I’m already touching it, in a sense,” Tane said. “If you count the dark filaments...”
“More like it’s touching you,” Sinive said. “You place your glove on that surface and your connection with the thing will be complete.”
“Maybe that isn’t such a bad thing,” Tane said. He felt completely at peace as he gazed into that darkness. “It won’t hurt me.”
“You don’t know that,” Sinive said. “Touch that, and all sorts of nefarious things could happen. Remember, the kraals ran away.”
Tane hesitated a moment longer, then he withdrew his hand. “You’re right. I don’t know what came over me. I don’t want to be anywhere near this thing.”
Despite his words, he stayed rooted to the spot.
“What if it’s a distortion tunnel?” Tane said. “Or this universe’s equivalent?”
“A distortion tunnel?” Sinive said. “I doubt it.”
“Wait, hear me out,” Tane said. “Look at the edges. They’re not like the blurry, indistinct edges of normal objects in this universe... notice how they seem to distort spacetime? That’s exactly what happens with the smaller distortion tunnels we use for planet-side travel. If you’ve ever stopped to look at the edges of the gates...”
Sinive turned to face the lens fully. She leaned closer. “Hmm. You’re actually right.” She gazed into his faceplate. “So what are you saying? You think this leads to another part of the planet?”
“It might,” Tane said.
“How do you explain the threads connecting you to the surface then?” Sinive asked.
“I’m not so sure I’m actually connected to the distortion tunnel itself,” Tane said. “But something lying on the other side.”
Sinive glanced at the dark iris once more. “If it’s a distortion tunnel, how come we can’t see the other side?”
“This isn’t our universe,” Tane said. “Distortion tunnels may not act the same. You performed a distortion jump when you were in this universe before right? With the Red Grizzly? Do you remember what you saw the moment before you jumped?”
“Actually, you can’t see that from the jump chamber,” Sinive said. “And it’s not like I can have Grizz check the logs right now...”
“Okay, we have two choices,” Tane said. “We can either turn back and pretend we never saw this thing. Or I can try to reach inside and confirm whether it’s a distortion tunnel”
“There you go trying to convince yourself to touch it again,” Sinive said. “Are you sure it’s you who’s insisting on this, and the iris isn’t exerting some undue influence on your thought processes? You are connected to it, after all...”
Tane forced himself to look away from the black shape.
“I’m not sure of anything,” Tane said. “All I know is I’m willing to try. If it doesn’t work, and my hand doesn’t pass through, then no harm done.”
“And if it does?” Sinive said. “You’re actually going to pull yourself inside entirely? When you have no idea what awaits beyond?”
“Why not?” Tane said. “We’re dead if we stay here anyway. Hopefully I’ll be able to come back if the other side doesn’t look appealing.” He gazed into her blue eyes. “Look, I won’t do this if you don’t want me to.”
“Really?” Sinive said. “You didn’t seem to care back at the food court when I told you not to pick up the dark crystal.”
“But that was different,” Tane said. “That was all greed.” Or was it?
“What makes this so different?” Sinive said.
He nodded toward the lens. “This isn’t something I can just pick up. And as I told you, because of the distortion around the edges, it’s obviously a tear in spacetime.”
“All right, go ahead then,” Sinive said. “But make it quick. I don’t know if those kraals are going to stay away forever. And I’m still not convinced that this isn’t some elaborate trap on the part of the dwellers.”
Tane stared at the device a moment longer, then reached out. As his fingers neared the surface, the darkness seemed to call out to him. It was a different feeling than he had experienced with the crystal... more pronounced.
More personal.
Tane touched the base of the object.
Almost immediately the darkness began to bleed out over his finger, swallowing it in blackness. The darkness moved like a liquid, and began to flow up onto his glove
, toward his arm.
Tane tried to pull away but was held fast. He shot Sinive a terrified glance. “I can’t move!”
“Take off the glove!” Sinive yelled.
Tane frantically fiddled with the removal latch, but he was too late—the darkness was already flowing up his arm. His other glove was now stuck fast to the wrist, with more of the dark liquid seeping up that hand as well.
He continued to resist the darkness but couldn’t break free. Sinive wrapped her arms around his untouched waist; she pulled Tane’s spacesuit backward, hard, but she couldn’t wrench him loose either.
She lost her grip and tumbled to the ground.
The darkness reached his chest assembly. Tane realized vaguely that he was finally feeling fear here in the Umbra. So much so that he could scarcely think for the pounding of his heart, and the gasp of each breath as it echoed back at him from the confined space of the helmet.
“Shoot it,” Tane said. “Shoot it!”
Sinive fired her pistols into the lens but the darkness absorbed the plasma shots, seeming to hum eagerly with each impact. Tane wasn’t sure, but he thought the lens even enlarged slightly thanks to the impacts.
Sinive grabbed his boot and tried wrenching him free again, but once more couldn’t budge him. She released him as the darkness seeped down his legs.
Tane saw them then: an audience of dwellers had gathered around the perimeter of the market. They watched from beyond the tents and stalls, and made no move to approach, or to fire.
The threads that connected Tane to the dark lens lifted him into the air, toward the blackness, pulling him in.
“I’m sorry,” Sinive was saying. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have let you touch it.” Her voice sounded so distant.
There was nothing he could do but surrender to the darkness and let it take him.
Never thought I’d meet my untimely end like this, on a faraway world, in a universe that isn’t even my own.
The darkness flowed over his helmet, covering his faceplate so that all he saw was that infinite blackness. The liquid must have burrowed in through tiny crevices along the edges, because Tane’s face felt extremely hot all of a sudden. Searingly so.
The burning feeling flowed down his body, and into all his orifices—mouth, nose, eyes, ears—until his entire being was consumed by it.
20
Tane floated in the burning darkness. For how long, he didn’t know. A second. An eternity.
He saw it then. A tiny white speck, hovering in the darkness. It seemed so very far away. He reached for it, and then felt an overwhelming sense of nausea.
He was falling.
The blackness vanished and the town square snapped back into existence as he slammed into the ground. The nausea dissipated upon impact, as did the searing heat.
He pushed himself up. Sinive was kneeling in her spacesuit beside him. He noticed something different about his surroundings immediately: broad daylight shone down upon him, courtesy of the mirrors in high orbit. The perpetual blue twilight had lifted.
Around him were the same tents and stalls, and the same buildings encircling the square, though the objects were no longer blurry and indistinct but real and solid. The dwellers that had been observing from the perimeter of the market were gone. And perhaps most important of all, there were people here.
People.
Not only that, digital signage began to intrude on his vision in rapid profusion. Standing out among the many signs was a smiling baby wearing bright white bottoms.
“Never thought I’d be so happy to see an advertisement for diapers,” Tane said.
“Uh, what just happened?” Sinive said.
“No idea,” Tane told her. “But to be honest, I don’t really care.” He glanced at his arms: dark threads no longer emerged from his suit. Relief flooded his being. “We’ve left that dark place behind.”
He returned his gaze to the random market-goers and watched them walk to and fro between the different stalls. He had gotten so used to seeing exaggerated motion blurs accompanying everything, that normal movements seemed odd. It would take a while until his mind adapted to the ordinary, no doubt.
“I guess that wasn’t actually a distortion tunnel after all, but an inter-dimensional rift of some kind,” Tane said. “Maybe similar to the Anteres Rift.”
“But if that’s the case,” Sinive said. “Why is there no evidence of it in this universe? And why aren’t the dwellers following us through?”
“Not sure,” Tane said. “Though Lyra did say rifts were one-way, which might explain why there is no evidence of it in this universe.”
“But the Anteres Rift is visible in our universe,” Sinive said. “And that also doesn’t explain why the dwellers didn’t follow.”
“Like I said, I’m not sure,” Tane told her.
She seemed just as dazed as him and watched the passersby with wide eyes for a moment. Finally she turned toward Tane.
“You all right, by the way?” Sinive asked.
“Yeah.”
“You sure you didn’t do anything?” she pressed.
“Not really,” Tane said.
He noticed he had a connection to the Galnet once more. He checked his message box but hadn’t received anything from his parents yet. Mom and Dad themselves were listed as offline, which was expected, considering Tane was in a different system.
Lyra and Jed were also offline. He hoped they weren’t still in the Umbra searching for him. Assuming that they were even alive anymore. They had saved his life back there on the rooftop. If they hadn’t intervened, he would have never made it to the taxi.
As for Nebb, Tane had forgotten to save the smuggler’s ID, and it wasn’t in his contact list at all.
“Do you have Nebb or any of the Red Grizzly’s crew online?” Tane asked Sinive.
“Nope,” Sinive replied. “If they made it out of the Umbra, they’re in a different system. Which would make sense, considering the Anteres Rift is the only way out.”
Tane returned his attention to the square. Apparently this city had open carry laws, because none of the passersby paid too much attention to the weapons Tane and Sinive carried. In fact, Tane saw a few citizens carrying holstered pistols of their own or rifles slung over their shoulders.
My kind of town...
The pair did get a few odd looks for the spacesuits they wore, however. A few eyes dropped to Tane’s harness, slightly widening when they saw the dark crystal he wore there.
“We kind of stand out, dressed like this,” Sinive said. “You especially.”
“Because of the crystal?” Tane asked.
“No, I meant the blood,” Sinive answered.
He glanced at the black blood smeared over his torso. “A blood-stained suit is kind of an odd fashion accessory, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, except it doesn’t really look like blood,” Sinive said. “You look like a half-burned marshmallow.”
“We’ll have to get rid of these soon,” Tane said. “But in the meantime…”
He activated “sunglasses mode” on his faceplate, causing the external surface of the pane to become a mirror, hiding his features entirely. He knew it was active because of the sunglasses effect—the market didn’t seem so bright around him.
“That’s illegal here, you know,” Sinive said.
“Yeah, but at least it protects us from the facial recognition algorithms,” Tane said.
Sinive followed suit, her features becoming hidden behind the mirror that her faceplate became. “We’ll have to avoid any police robots we spot.”
“Could be quite a few, dependent on how stringent the police are about face-hiding in this neighborhood,” Tane told her.
“Not too stringent, actually,” Sinive said. “I’ve been here.”
“Well keep an eye out anyway,” Tane said. “By the way, how long is it supposed to take for microcrillia to die?”
“Right away as far as I know,” Sinive said. “Any microcrillia that hitched a rid
e on the surface of our suits would be dead by now.”
Tane nodded, though she wouldn’t have seen it. “Well I guess it’s time to sell all the gear we bought, including these suits. Preferably at a place that will allow me to unload this.” He patted the crystal attached to his harness. It continued to pulse, seeming blacker than ever compared to the bright world around them, each beat sending vibrations across his suit.
“I know the perfect place,” Sinive said. She paused, as if checking her HUD map. “This way.”
“By the way, probably should active ID spoofing for yourself,” Tane said. “The TSN will be looking for you, too, now.”
“Good idea.” She paused. “It’s changed.”
“I thought it takes up to a business day to go through the TSN record system?”
“It does,” Sinive said. “Let’s just hope we don’t meet any TSN until then. In the meantime, it’ll provide all the spoofing I need against the city’s local database.”
Tane did a quick ID scan on her.
“Tina Treetops?” Tane asked.
“Hey, it was the name of my first pony,” Sinive said. “Leave me alone, okay? She seemed really tall to me, as big as the treetops.”
“You had a pony?” he said. “Someone was spoiled.”
“Virtual pony, Outrimmer,” Sinive said.
“Still spoiled,” Tane said.
“Hmph.”
Sinive led him from the market and down a seedy side street where synthetic flesh whisperers solicited customers from behind the windows of skin parlors. Tane did his best to ignore the smiles and “come hither” gestures, and he dismissed the digital signage of bare breasted women that kept popping up over his vision. For some reason the AI operating the signage came to the conclusion that Tane must like the same sex, because bare man chests began to appear next, with an arrow indicating a path he could take promising an “alley full of manly delights.” Tane dismissed these ones even more furiously.
“This part of town is a bit seedy,” Tane said.
