by Mick Fraser
Shimmer brushed her hands together to dislodge the dust. “I think ‘plan’ is a strong word. I think they prepared for a lot of eventualities, that is all.”
“So why now?” Illith asked suddenly.
Angela hadn’t been aware the others were even listening. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“I mean, the pathway to your system was time sensitive. It activated when your gift activated, allowing Evayne to track you somehow, and determine your location. Why? What caused it? How could the Founders have known precisely when you would be needed?”
“Perhaps Evayne was alerted by the Unavenged? By his connection, whatever it may be, to her?” Shimmer offered.
“And maybe it was just dumb luck,” said Drenno, sourly. “What does it matter at this point?”
Illith raised an eyebrow. “What indeed? What has you so uptight?”
“I don’t like it here.”
“It’s not where you are that matters, it’s the company you keep,” Gaelan quipped, not looking towards Angela. “It could be worse.”
He chuffed. “Right... How much further?”
Winston buzzed in their ears. “A tick or two. It’s hard to get a proper reading. The reliquary is above you, though.”
“Above us? We’re heading down, Winston.”
“Not for long,” said the Mechanid. “You’re coming towards what looks like an incline, maybe even a climb point. I’m afraid you’ll see it before I will at this rate.”
Winston was right. Up ahead the ground rose sharply, and on closer inspection Angela saw that the floor they were walking on had sheered and folded, so that the path down became a steep climb up into the darkness. Shimmer gestured with her hand and her orb of light rose above them to reveal the decorative wall of the reliquary. It was upside down: the hand-scanner was facing downwards.
“What do we do now?” she asked. “Do we climb?”
“Climb what?” said Drenno. “There’s nothing here.” He touched the wall beside him. “It’s sheer.”
Illith touched Angela’s shoulder. “You can reach it. We will wait here.”
“What? How? Oh, right.” She peered up. It was a good fifteen yards above them. Had she arced that far before? She flexed her right arm and tapped the jewel on the Gauntlet; the Braid unfurled, emitting a blue glow. She looked at Illith and sighed. “I need a boost.”
The Silsir knelt, resting the back of her hands on her knee, with her palms up and fingers interlocked. Angela took a deep breath, thinking back to her training sessions. You can do this, she told herself. She rested her foot on Illith’s hands.
“On dret,” said Illith. “Ank, mar, dret!”
With a grunt of effort she threw her weight upwards, launching Angela into the air. Angela shrieked involuntarily, arcing up with as much effort as she could manage. She flashed out of the arc a few feet from the hand-scanner and whipped out the Braid; it latched itself to the plinth and Angela was jerked forwards to bump painfully against the cool wall. She looked down. Gaelan had covered her mouth with both hands, Drenno looked impressed, and Illith nodded once, slowly. Angela’s held breath burst out like a popping geyser and she couldn’t stop herself laughing.
She allowed herself to twist a little, then planted both feet on the vertical surface. She took two steps up the wall until she could reach the hand-scanner. She stretched up, placing her hand in the groove. There was a grind of rock and metal, and the chamber began to shake, raining dust and debris that made her cough and squeeze shut her eyes. The reliquary wall cracked, blazing with blue light, and the two halves of the door began to open, slowly, tortuously. As the vibrations in the wall intensified, Angela struggled to keep her footing. Eventually she faltered, slipping to dangle on the taught leash. Her falling weight dragged on the plinth, causing part of it to dislodge from its moorings. She dropped another foot, yelping.
“Come down!” Shimmer told her. “We shall find another way.”
“It’s alright,” Illith said. “She can do it.”
Spurred on, Angela gritted her teeth. The reliquary was now open; she could see the artefact, secure on its plinth despite the oblique angle. She gripped her right wrist with her left hand, re-planted her feet and took a deep breath, flexing her legs. She eyed the back of the room.
“Give her some light, Shim” she heard Drenno say, his voice echoing in the gloom. “You got another blinker?”
A moment later the cavern was illuminated by the light of a second orb. Squaring her jaw and her heels, she took another breath, held it, and kicked off, snapping the Braid back and arcing up, just as the increased pressure tore the hand-scanner loose and sent it spiralling to the ground below. She landed beside the artefact, vertically, and managed to grab it with both hands. It was about five feet long, slim and encased in a cold black container. As gravity took hold and she fell away, she twisted in the air and arced down, landing painfully on her knees between Illith and Drenno.
“Ow...” she groaned.
The Captain leaned down and helped her up. “You okay, kid?”
Shakily she stood. “Just about. That’s it, right? That’s all three.”
Shimmer nodded as she lifted the case to her shoulder. “Yes. All that remains is to deliver the three parts to the Seraph, as you promised.”
As they prepared to leave the cave, Gaelan’s databand emitted a soft ping. She paused, shushing the party. It pinged again.
“What is that?” asked Drenno.
“A life reading,” the Avellian replied. “Faint.”
“Distant?”
“No. Less than twenty arms below us.” She looked down, and Angela moved to the edge of the broken floor from which Illith had previously boosted her. Where the walkway had sheered it dropped away into darkness.
“Shimmer?” she called, and the Ri'in came over with Drenno and Illith in tow. “What’s down there?”
“Let us find out,” Shimmer replied, gesturing downwards towards the hole. One of her blinkers plummeted down, its bright light parting the darkness like a curtain.
Drenno knelt for a better look, and immediately swore. There were clusters of white globes, each roughly the size of a person’s head, deposited all over the cavern floor. Angela counted at least fifty.
“Those are eggs, right?” she said.
“Yup,” said Drenno heavily. “Those are eggs. But what’s inside them?”
“Does it matter? We’re leaving, aren’t we?”
He looked at her sideways. “Matters if they hatch while we’re here, kid. Or if mummy comes back to see how her babies are doing and finds us clunking around above the nest. We need to take a sample. Gently.”
“I could arc down there, I suppose.”
Shimmer placed a hand on her shoulder. “We were doing this a long time before you came along, dearheart,” she said. Behind them, Gaelan was already un-spooling wire from a compartment of her utility belt. She was feeding it to Illith, who was steadily looping it through a fixing on her own belt. Kneeling at the edge of the drop, Gaelan leaned back, allowing Illith, steadied by Shimmer and Drenno, to feed out the spooled wire while supporting the Avellian’s weight. With a blinker hovering beside her, Gaelan began to abseil slowly down into the cloying blackness below.
Angela, her mouth dry, went prone, leaning down as low as she could for a better look. From here the light afforded by the blinker wasn’t overly bright, and as Gaelan alighted on the ground below only her white hair stood out. The commlink crackled.
“According to the database, these eggs are Arkalian in origin,” she reported. “Jabberhawks. I’m waving an image to your databands.”
Angela’s device beeped and projected an image onto her heads-up display of a large winged creature with a long neck, sharp talons and barbed tail. The snout was elongated, the eyes large and oval, the double wings leathery, almost bat-like. It looked like a goddamn dragon.
“How would an Arkalian creature be indigenous here?” Gaelan asked. “We’re light-years from Arkalus.
”
“Arkalus’ primary galactic income is generated by export and import,” Illith explained. “Seventy percent of that is wildlife. A menagerie ship probably crashed here.”
“Pull me up,” Gaelan said, then suddenly called out excitedly. “Wait! Goddess preside! Do’vah, look!”
Angela’s databand beeped and she saw a second image appear, this one of what looked a luminescent eel, its translucent skin rippling with colour.
“Rani?” Drenno said quietly.
“There’s spoor everywhere down here. The jabberhawks must be hunting them. To see one again...”
He sighed, but Angela saw the ghost of a smile on his lips. “If there’s time, alright? Pull her up, Ill. Let’s get back to the ship.”
CHAPTER 39
~FEMININE CHARMS~
SIX-TAILS PLACED THE third case beside the others on the holocaster table in the common room and stood back, giving Drenno a long, level stare.
“What?” the Captain asked irritably. “You really think we’re better off keeping them?”
“Not better off, no,” the Endrani replied. “But I don’t think you appreciate just how significant this is. These reliquaries were sealed for more than two thousand years. Every attempt made to breach them in that time failed, and we cracked them all inside a week. This device, whatever it is, was meant for her—” he pointed one clawed hand at Angela, “—and you want to just give it away to be destroyed. It should be studied.”
Drenno spread his hands. “Where? The Academy? Evayne owns the Academy. Amman Math? She owns that, too. Here? We don’t have the time or the resources. Shim, tell him. He might listen to you.”
Shimmer placed a gentle hand on one of the Endrani’s huge shoulders. “He is right, my friend. The device is not safe here. If it is what the Seraph says it is, it must be destroyed.”
Six-Tails was not to be convinced so easily. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe. But what if the Seraph is making the wrong decision. You think the Founders who made this, who made Angela—” he looked suddenly sheepish. “Uh, sorry, bad choice of words. Do you think they intended for her to come here and free the Unavenged? Of course they didn’t. She was a failsafe in case he ever got free himself. This device is a weapon against him. What if we destroy it and he gets out anyway, and this was our last option? What then? You’ve heard the stories about the Hexen Crusade. You’ve seen the Deadworlds. His people wiped out three entire races and countless worlds. Destroying this just seems... stupid.”
“I agree with Shaggy,” Gage chipped in, hopping up to perch on the edge of the wide table. “He’s got a point.”
“You would opt to keep it here?” Shimmer asked her.
The Auton ignored the condescending tone. “Why the hell not? Evayne’s after us anyway. While it’s here we control it. If she blows us out of the stars, she blows the device up with us.”
“Great plan.”
Gage leaned forward until she was right in the Ri'in’s masked face. “Better than yours, wisp.”
Angela expected anger from Shimmer, but instead she straightened and spoke calmly. “I thought you were departing our company?”
“Well I decided to stay. Without me around you’re bound to fuck something up.”
“Well we don’t need your opinion.”
“Here’s my opinion, smoky,” said Gage, raising her middle finger and placing the hand, knuckles first, against the Ri'in’s mask.
Angela caught an explosive laugh halfway from her lips. “Sorry...” she mumbled, the tension broken. “That means the same at home as it does here. You know, the finger. Sorry.”
Illith leaned over the table. “What do you think, mystraal? What should we do?”
They all turned their eyes on her and she felt pinned, like roadkill trapped in hundred-watt headlights. “Um... I say we take it to Guin,” she said, catching Gage’s scowl. “I think it’s best to just get rid of it.”
“And we let her decide, do we?” the Auton snapped. “Princess here is the Captain now? Because I missed that wave.”
“Back it down, Gage” Drenno warned her. “For what it’s worth, I don’t trust this thing, but I do trust Guin. We’ll take it back to Oraclus.” He glared at Six-Tails. “No more arguments, doc. It’s decided.”
“It’s a mistake,” said the Endrani.
“That sounds like an argument.” Drenno looked at Dizzy. “How long til we’re flight-ready?”
The To’ecc shrugged. “I could get her in the air now, boss, but we’ll never land her in this condition. I need a little more time to work on the containment, and Gage needs to get outside on the landing gear. Meantime, the mind needs re-calibrating and the navigrid could do with a reboot.”
“Right. Let’s go.”
As everyone moved to their various duties, Gaelan entered the briefing room with a manner Angela had never seen in her. Her skin was almost golden, her eyes bright. She was happy. It suited her. She went straight to her father, who made a show of being irritated. “Where the hell have you been? You know we have work to do right?”
She ignored his words, grabbing his hands. “I found them. I need to show Angela.”
Drenno gave an emphatic sigh. “Okay. It’s not like you can do a lot here now. An hour, no more.”
Giddy, Gaelan spun around, caught Angela by her wrist and half-dragged her from the room. Outside the surf was high, crashing against the near shore as the late afternoon sun baked the sand like a kiln.
“Where are we going?” Angela asked, unable to suppress her smile. Gaelan’s uncharacteristic good mood was infectious.
“You’ll see,” the other girl told her cryptically. “You’re in for a treat.”
GAELAN led Angela towards the far end of the island, where a network of arching sand formations protruded from the ground like enormous teeth. Here and there Angela noticed faint blue smudges on the sandstone, which grew more frequent as Gaelan led her deeper. They soon reached a point where the arches almost interlocked, forming a natural canopy pierced by blades of golden sunlight. Gaelan pulled Angela to one side, shushing her and hankering down beside an arch. She yanked Angela down beside her. “Watch,” she whispered.
For a moment there was no movement, and Angela’s curiosity began to shift towards impatience, but then there came a faint sound, a high, musical trill that rippled through the air. It was beautiful, almost hypnotic. A creature something like an eel appeared, gliding through the air with fluid grace. It glimmered in the sunlight, its scales reflecting a rainbow of colours. Others joined it, their bright bodies writhing and flowing together, a beautiful ballet of gleaming colours that seemed to react together, so the shades rippled from one to the other. “What are they? They’re beautiful.”
“Rani,” Gaelan told her. “They’re from home. The Arkalians must have been transporting them with the jabberhawks. You want to touch one?”
“Is it safe?”
“Goddess, yes. Just wait. Come on.”
Gaelan stood slowly, gently taking Angela’s hand in hers and leading her forward. She raised her other hand and the rani reacted instantly, swirling towards them, their colours growing brighter as they came. They emanated a strange energy, a type of warmth that rippled the hairs on Angela’s arms and placed prickling kisses up and down her neck. She shivered, and realised what the feeling was like and where it was hitting her hardest. She felt suddenly uncomfortable, but Gaelan twirled away, raising her arms above her head in a silent dance among the rani. Their soft keening rose, becoming almost musical, and Angela felt herself pulled into them. The cave-like claws of sand around them seemed to drop away, swallowed by light and colour. The warmth bloomed like a flower inside Angela’s breast, flowing out, down, thrilling her with pulses of energy like a crashing tide inside her. When she felt Gaelan’s touch on her wrist she almost cried out, but their eyes met within the swirl of colour and she reached out, overcome, her stomach and loins aflame. She pulled Gaelan to her, pushing her fingers through the Avellian’s hair and grippin
g the back of her head.
Their lips met among the kaleidoscope of sound and colour, and they were twirling, spinning, until she felt the warmth of the wall behind her, pressing against her back. Fingers brushed the flesh of hip, traced hot lines across her stomach. Gaelan’s tongue filled her mouth, burning, wet, sliding against her own.
Angela gasped as she felt a hand on her breast, caressing, squeezing; a second found her buttock, and she raised her leg instinctively, wrapping it around Gaelan’s thigh. She pulled the other girl in as close as she could, but it wasn’t close enough. She needed to be in her, all the way. Her hands went to Gaelan’s belt, fumbling at the buckle, the urgent need for more overcoming her other senses – when all of a sudden the rani scattered, tearing the colours away behind them.
Gaelan broke off the kiss and Angela slumped back, panting, dishevelled. In the sudden silence there came a new sound, low and humming, whirring like helicopter blades. Gaelan wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, listening.
“What?” Angela breathed. “What is it?”
Gaelan looked at her, then pulled away, tapping her databand. “Engines,” she said. “Come on.”
Half out of her mind, Angela allowed Gaelan to take the lead again. The Avellian led her out from beneath the canopy, up the near bank and dropped to her belly in the hot sand. Angela’s railroaded arousal was uncomfortably pushed aside as she hit the ground beside Gaelan: a large ship had alighted a few hundred yards from their position. It was triangular and crimson red, hung with coloured chains and what looked like alien skulls. Various wounds in its hull had been patched over with bits of tin and steel.
“Shit...” said Gaelan. “Shit-shit-shit.” She tapped her databand again, trying to raise the Shadowstar. As she did so the cargo ramp on the red ship lowered and a column of what Angela could only describe as pirates trooped out. They were all armed to the teeth, of varying races, but the apparent leader was a huge red Endrani, even larger than Six-Tails, with a broad-barrelled shard-slinger strapped to his back. They headed with some haste towards the Shadowstar.
