Further: Beyond the Threshold

by Chris Roberson

  SIXTY-SEVEN

  I was stripped to the waist and bound hand and foot in some type of shackles fixed to the wall. What it suggested about our captors that they already had a room equipped with shackles on the walls, I chose not to contemplate any longer than was absolutely necessary.

  I was in bad shape, to be sure, but didn’t feel nearly as horrible as I should have, given the abuse my body had already taken. I couldn’t know for sure, but I guessed it had something to do with the medichines Maruti had injected when rejuvenating me. They couldn’t keep me from getting injured, but they seemed to be speeding my healing processes considerably. I was still bruised and bleeding, but I’d more or less been able to retain consciousness, blacking out only a time or two.

  Amelia was able to remain in intermittent contact and reported in as often as she was able about her progress. She’d been able to get access to the communications network as soon as she entered the local circuit of the network, and had successfully maneuvered her source code from the terminal into the network itself, but so far, she’d succeeded in little else. She knew the general layout of the platform and could tell me anything I wanted to know about the production quotas, but that was about all.

  As a pair of Iron Mass bruisers worked over my kidneys, taking turns pounding their spurred fists into my sides, though, I welcomed any distraction she could provide.

  ::OK,:: Amelia said as she snaked her way through the network, trying to find the security controls, ::the big rectangular box outside the dome, on the west side of the platform…Did you see that coming in?::

  I tried to subvocalize an answer to say that I had, but couldn’t concentrate enough to form the words in my head.

  ::Well,:: Amelia went on, taking my silence for assent, ::that’s the refinery. These guys are digging up transuranic ore from the planet’s bedrock, refining it down to the useful elements and discarding the rest, and then using the mass launcher—that’s the cannon on the east side of the platform—to send shipments up into orbit. What they do from there, your guess is as good as mine. Do they use it on the ship? Package it up and send it somewhere else?::

  ::Who,:: I managed to subvocalize, just barely, ::knows?::

  That I managed to follow it with a nonverbal shrug, I consider a testament to my willpower, if nothing else.

  ::The network’s software defenses haven’t noticed my intrusion just yet,:: Amelia continued, ::but I’m guessing it’s just a matter of time. Don’t worry, though. I’ll find your gear and the security controls, and we’ll get out of here.::

  I moaned, rolling my head from one side to the other. My captors chuckled and took a step back to regard their handiwork. I looked down and saw the raw, bloody mess they’d made of my chest and abdomen.

  ::H-hurry?:: I managed.

  ::Hang tight.:: I could hear the strain in Amelia’s voice, and the fear. ::We’ll both get out of this, you’ll see.::

  Neither of us knew it then, but she was wrong.

  SIXTY-EIGHT

  I must have drifted off, or blacked out, because when the voice woke me up, I opened my eyes to find that I was alone in the room. Still hanging from the wall, one giant throbbing pain from the top of my head to the tips of my toes, it took me a few moments to be able to parse out the sounds I was hearing as words and then to recognize the voice that was speaking.

  ::Captain Stone. Are you receiving me? Captain Stone?::

  “Zel,” I said out loud, forgetting myself. Then I blinked hard, concentrated, and subvocalized, keeping my face as expressionless as possible. ::Yes. I’m here. I’m just a bit…I’m just, is all.::

  ::You don’t sound good, Captain, if you don’t mind me saying.::

  ::No, Zel? Well, you should see how I must look.:: I took a deep breath, collecting myself and trying to pull up as straight as possible in my restraints. ::How long since our last contact?::

  ::Just a bit over point-zero-five-six-two standard days.::

  Eighty minutes. Had it been that short a time?

  ::OK, where do we stand?::

  ::The Iron Mass ship has approached to just a few kilometers but appears now to be holding position. The Further has continued to receive information from its probes, though, and a clearer picture of what’s going on in this system has emerged.::

  ::Captain,:: sounded the voice of the Further, ::it appears that the asteroid belt we sighted on first reaching the pulsar system was originally another planet, identical in composition to the one below us. However, nearly all traces of any transuranic elements appear to have been removed from the debris. Geodynamics could not account for the planet’s apparent destruction, much less for the absence of such a large percentage of its constituent matter, so the only conclusion we can draw is that it was deliberately done.::

  ::They mined the other planet out, obviously,:: came the voice of Xerxes, ::and when they’d removed all deposits of the heaviest transuranic elements in reach, they exploded the planet to access the final deposits hidden deep in the planet’s core.::

  ::That’s borne out by the evidence of my other probes,:: Further answered. ::The probes sent down to the planet ahead of the landing party have reported back that, beneath the surface, the planet is riddled with bored mines. I can only imagine it’s just a matter of time before this planet follows its former sibling into oblivion.::

  ::At least some percentage of the mined ore,:: Xerxes said, ::must have been transported elsewhere, outside the system, which would account for the alteration in the pulsar binary’s orbital period.::

  ::You damnable machine!:: howled Maruti in frustration. ::I’ve been patient like you asked, but I cannot believe that you’ll patiently talk about mined ores and orbital periods in the face of what we’ve discovered.::

  ::Which is?:: I asked, mindful of the moments slipping past, of the window of communication slowly closing.

  ::It’s simply remarkable, Captain,:: Maruti said, and I could hear the excitement in his words. ::These cairns aren’t geological at all!::

  ::Nor are they designed as such,:: Xerxes objected.

  ::But they are the result…Oh, never mind your ridiculous objections. Captain, these structures are secreted by anaerobic bacteria, which are able to metabolize the simpler minerals of the planet. Much like the stromatalites that once were found on Original Earth, the cairns are digestive effluvia, if you will, the waste products of the bacteria after they have drawn whatever sustenance they can out of the inert materials of the planet’s thin atmosphere itself. As they continue to consume and excrete, the towers grow wider and taller.::

  I couldn’t help but sigh. ::So the things that brought us down here in the first place are nothing but towers of dung piled up under unicellular eating machines?::

  ::Yes. That is, no. That is…:: Maruti was stumbling over himself, too excited even to form a response.

  ::What my overzealous companion is trying to communicate, Captain, is that the arrangement of these stromatalite-like cairns is not random. Though the individual organisms we’ve analyzed appear to be nothing more than ‘unicellular eating machines,’ as you put it, the question remains whether they might not have collectively developed some level of intelligence.::

  ::What?:: asked Zel. ::Some sort of hive mind?::

  ::Exactly!:: Maruti shouted.

  ::Perhaps,:: Xerxes put in, eir tone much more measured. ::We have detected the presence of organic molecules in the environment that could be functioning as a kind of rudimentary signaling system. Terrestrial bacteria use such signal molecules, called autoinducers, in a process called ‘quorum sensing,’ to regulate population levels, respond to external stimuli, and…::

  ::So the eating machines could be talking to one another, then?:: I asked wearily.

  ::Essentially, yes,:: Xerxes said.

  ::Isn’t that remarkable?:: Maruti chimed in.

  ::You’ll have to forgive my lack of enthusiasm,:: I said, ::but I’ve had other pressing concerns.::

  I caught them up to speed on our status
as quickly as I was able. I had to assume that the Iron Mass weren’t monitoring our interlink communication, or they’d long since have discovered Amelia prowling around their computer network, so I felt free to tell the others the details of the plan, such as it was.

  ::So you allowed yourself to be captured and tortured?:: Zel asked, a disbelieving tone creeping into her words.

  ::It was the only way to get Amelia into position.::

  ::Well…:: Zel trailed off for a moment in a thoughtful silence. ::I hope that doesn’t prove to have been an unwise strategy.::

  ::You and me both,:: I said. Then I felt the interlink connection break, and I was alone with my thoughts once more.

  SIXTY-NINE

  When I was a kid, I joined the Bharat Scouts. Then I fell in a hole and decided I’d had enough of scouting for a while.

  I’d earned the rank of Rashtrapati Scout and moved up to the Rovers and was going for my Rambler Badge. My crew had already been drilled on first aid and survival techniques, and all that was left was to complete a four-day journey, organized by me and approved by the rest of the crew. The trip could be by land or water, and by foot, vehicle, or vessel, which meant we could have sailed or flown ultralights or any number of other options. Me? For some reason, I opted to walk. We’d go trekking in the hills of Meghalaya, four days and nights.

  The journey had to present a “definite test of endurance,” and “bring out qualities of self-reliance, initiative, determination, and leadership.”

  Right. Some leader I turned out to be.

  Four of us set out on foot from a village in the East Khasi Hills district. My dad had been our escort from Bangalore, but he’d be sleeping in a hotel bed in Shillong, while we kids slept rough under the stars. I hadn’t told the adults, but I’d planned our route to increase our chances of getting to spend the night along the way in one of the little villages of the hill tribes, where we’d have a better chance of a comfortable bed—though still a pretty slim chance, at that.

  I had a satellite phone with me in case something went wrong. But aside from getting blisters on our feet and aching calves and backs, I couldn’t imagine what could possibly happen.

  Then, before we’d even gone a full day’s trek, the earth opened up and swallowed me whole.

  There were caves all over the Khasi Hills, among them the deepest and longest in all of South Asia. People had been coming to Meghalaya to chart and explore caves for centuries, and if you’d asked me at the time, I would have figured that every cave that could be discovered had been discovered. And then I fell into one that no one seemed to have found before.

  One of the other kids fell in with me, but the other two managed to scramble back out of the way quickly enough not to get dragged down as well. Apparently, we’d stepped where no one else had stepped, in the history of forever, because the roof of the cave was separated from the ground above by a layer of dirt and gravel only a few centimeters thick, and with our weight on it, the whole thing just gave way.

  Vikram was knocked unconscious by the fall, but for all I knew, he was dead. It was almost pitch black, with only a hazy light streaming down from the hole we’d made far overhead. I’d landed at a bad angle, my legs tangled up in stalagmites, both of them broken in multiple places and my left arm pulled out of its socket. Only my right arm could still move at all, but any attempt to drag myself across the floor sent waves of nausea and pain ripping across my body, so I quickly decided to give that a rest.

  I had the satellite phone in my pack, but after spending long, bone-grinding minutes digging it out, I discovered that it didn’t work, the signal blocked by the ceiling of rock and dirt overhead. Sanjay and Arati shouted down that they were going to go for help, and I discovered that one of my lungs must have punctured in the fall, since I couldn’t catch enough breath to shout up that one of them, at least, should stay behind.

  They both ran off back the way we’d come, and I was left down in the darkness, with the unconscious Vikram and a body racked with pain.

  Then night fell.

  I’m not sure what was worse—the pain or the waiting. Waiting, not knowing whether Sanjay and Arati would bring back help in time, or if they did come back, whether they’d be able to find the site of the cave-in again. Waiting, not knowing whether I was bleeding internally, and not sure how long I’d last if I were. Waiting, unsure whether I’d ever see daylight again. But ever present, and inescapable, was the pain.

  That’s what it was like, bound to the wall in the Iron Mass mining platform. Senses numbed with pain, waiting for the hatch to open again and for new torments to begin. And I felt the same, dull ache in the pit of my stomach now as I did then, the same sick sense of expectation and anticipation.

  The only difference was, this time there was no chance that my dad would show up in the morning to rescue me.

  SEVENTY

  I’m not sure how long I was alone in the room. Amelia’s attentions were elsewhere, trying to navigate through the network’s defenses, so she had time to do little more than ping me on occasion to make sure I was still alive. The Iron Mass left me alone for a long time, no doubt to give me time to contemplate what abuses they might deliver when next the door opened, and I’m not too proud to say that I did just that. I had little to do, in fact, but contemplate abuses and watch as the invisible machines silently knitted my battered body as best they could. Serious injuries slowly became only grievous wounds, and my abdomen slowly shifted from a pulpy, raw, red mess to a spread of yellowish-green bruises. My breathing became slightly easier as time went on, suggesting that I might have had broken ribs along the way that the medichines were gradually patching up. I was far from fine, but I wasn’t at death’s door—at least not yet—so for that, if nothing else, I was grateful.

  Finally, the hatch swung open, and the commander-of-the-faithful himself stood revealed, Nine Precession Radon. Apparently, it was time for my conversion to continue.

  “You thought to fool me, feigning interest in the Divine Ideal, no?”

  The Iron Mass leader leaned in close, shouting in rage, his spittle spattering against my nose and cheeks.

  “Please forgive me,” I said, falling back on Interdiction Negotiation training. “I’m not as strong as you are, and in my weakness, I thought I could escape.”

  Radon laughed, a sharp, barking nose.

  “Don’t try to soothe me with your honeyed words,” he snarled. “I’m no imbecile to be coddled with simple flattery.”

  I chanced a smile. “Are you sure?”

  “Quiet!” Radon bellowed, and then began pacing across the room. “Why? Can you explain it to me? You seem a reasonably intelligent sentient, for all your misbelief, so maybe you can explain what no one before you has.”

  I narrowed my eyes, watching him pace back and forth in front of me, a strange expression on his jet-black features.

  “Why do unbelievers so willfully refuse to accept the truth?”

  Surprisingly, the Iron Mass’s tone wasn’t one of hatred or anger, and he didn’t seem to be taunting me, either.

  “Do you really want to know?”

  Radon drew up short in front of me and turned, his piercing blue eyes wide open and soft. “Yes!” he pleaded.

  I was taken aback. He actually seemed to be sincere. Not only curious, but concerned about those who refused to convert.

  “Could it be because what you profess is immaterial when judged against what you do? And what the Iron Mass does is kill and destroy everything that comes in its path that doesn’t bow down and worship the god of your choosing.”

  “But the Divine Ideal is real!” he said, imploring.

  “I’m not arguing that with you. I’ve got no proof one way or the other. All I know is what is in front of me, and what’s in front of me is the kind of man who gleefully fires the heads of innocents back at their grieving families and who cuts open living beings to see if they’ve swallowed valuables and who guts a woman in front of her eyes or blows a hole through an
innocent man for moving too slowly. So why should anyone listen to what you have to say?”

  “But we do it for your own good,” Radon said, drawing himself upright, teeth clenched. “We’re purifying the universe. Those lives you mention were without purpose, without meaning, so what matter is it if they end now or later? But if just one comes to the full knowledge of the Divine Ideal through our efforts, and the birth of the Ideal is brought any nearer to the present, then it all will have been worth it.”

  “Will it? And how many have come to that full knowledge, I wonder.”

  Radon looked at me, eyes narrowed, and then turned his gaze away. “Too few,” he said. “Always too few.”

  “So my friends and I, if we refuse your teaching, you’ll kill us as well. And you’ll go on digging holes in this planet as though nothing had happened. But what about this planet, anyway?” I gestured with my scraped chin, indicating the world beyond the platform’s walls. “When my crew and I landed, we found cairns that looked like they might be the result of some sort of bacterial intelligence. Don’t they get a chance to accept your god’s love? Or will you just plow through them as well, as you’ve done with so many others?”

  “Life? Here? Psht.” Radon waved his hand dismissively. “Earth was the cradle of life, from which the seeds of the Divine Ideal sprung. No unicellular organisms of other provenance have any place in universe’s destiny, merely flotsam along the way.”

  “So you’ll continue to mine the planet until it’s a cloud of rubble in space, then?”

  “Of course,” Radon said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “We will complete the great work begun by our ancestors who came to this system centuries ago, and move onto the next system.”

  I eyed him thoughtfully. “Just what is this great work of yours, anyway?”

  “Why, to fuel the Iron Mass expansion, of course. The results of our mining efforts are dispatched in unmanned rockets to the various houses spread throughout this part of the galaxy who themselves send out the fruits of their labor, as needed.”