Eternity's End

by Jeffrey Carver

  Turning to watch Palagren and Ker'sell, he noted their unstirring poses. He did not interrupt them; they were stretching out through the tessa'chron, probing as far into the future as their senses would allow, seeking any whorls or eddies in the flow of time, anything that might suggest the presence of a change or a flaw in the local fabric of spacetime. So far, they'd seen nothing suggestive of the entry point they were looking for. The net sang like a charged high-tension wire as Palagren came to and peered back at Legroeder.

  I'd like to retune further, Palagren said. I think we need more sensitivity.

  Legroeder frowned. The net was already a roomful of suppressed emotions waiting to erupt. With increased output from the flux reactor, they would shift even further into an experimental operating regime. He wasn't sure how much more he wanted to experiment. Cantha? Agamem? he called to the bridge. Are you picking up anything useful?

  From the bridge, the two Narseil replied in the negative. No movement visible, Cantha said. Not much energy gradient of any kind.

  If they wanted to be able to maneuver, they had to do better. Legroeder glanced at the ethereal vision of Palagren, waiting at the front of the net for an answer, then called to Deutsch. Freem'n, will it interrupt your AI scans if we increase the sensitivity further?

  I don't think so.

  Was that a trace of nervousness in Deutsch's voice? Well, they were all nervous. All right, Palagren, let's go ahead.

  Commencing now, replied the Narseil.

  Legroeder felt a momentary tingle, followed by a heightened awareness of... what? His heartbeat, pulsing in his ears? Light and shadow, boredom and fear?

  It seemed to fluctuate through a variety of responses, as Palagren made cautious adjustments—backing off here, enhancing there. Legroeder's implants flickered, joining in a circle with the others', as Palagren gauged the new settings. Legroeder became aware of a smell of the sea that he hadn't noticed before, of brine and seaweed. Everyone okay with this? he asked softly.

  As the others agreed, he disengaged his augments from the circle. The others could use their augments for flying, but he was going to stick with his human senses. Begin cycling the images.

  The plan was to try a variety of image types, in hopes of revealing patterns or movement beneath the surface. If the patterns were there, they might well manifest as different images for different individuals.

  The first was an undersea vision: a clear and still place, with sunlight slanting down through the water as far as the eye could see. Far off, Legroeder saw floating tufts of seaweed and detritus—perhaps areas of altered density, or mass concentrations in nearby normal-space.

  Legroeder was surprised to feel a profound sadness welling up in him for no apparent reason, a feeling of indescribable loss. His thoughts flickered to Tracy-Ace, and he felt himself on the verge of tears. Would he ever see her again? Had she deceived him to get him on this mission? Was he on a fool's errand? No... he remembered the intimacy of their joining, and refused to believe that it was false.

  He drew a sharp breath, startled by the power of the emotion. Good Lord. Glancing around, he realized that everyone in the net seemed preoccupied. Palagren appeared wistful and distracted; Deutsch was concentrating fiercely on the Flux beneath him. Only Ker'sell showed any awareness of Legroeder, and he was staring down at the human with apparent suspicion. Legroeder looked away, hoping he had not let actual images of Tracy-Ace into the net.

  Focus outward, he thought. We're here to fly, not gaze at our navels.

  The silence was interrupted by: This is Cantha. Nothing visible on instruments out here.

  Nothing here, Deutsch said.

  Nothing, said Legroeder.

  Ker'sell didn't answer.

  Palagren changed the image again.

  The crystal clarity of the seascape closed in, and Phoenix was transformed to an aircraft flying straight and level through solid cloud; the forward motion, of course, was purely an illusion. Legroeder felt his feelings changing with the image. At first he was oppressed by the clouds, but that gave way to a sense of freedom and exhilaration. Not everyone in the net shared the feeling, however. Palagren was focused deeply, as though pondering a mystery. Deutsch's mood was inscrutable. Ker'sell was snapping his gaze around with angry energy.

  Before Legroeder could learn what was bothering Ker'sell, the Narseil changed the image—as though he could not bear the clouds any longer. Dark forms loomed in the fog, then faded back, like dream-shapes. What were those—something they needed to see? Too late: the fog dissipated and the surroundings changed to night. Now they were floating in a glass bubble over a dark, featureless plain.

  Featureless plain like the featureless sea.

  But was it? Legroeder sensed that something was building beneath the surface. The plain below was not altogether still and motionless; it was smoldering with sulfurous fire. Once he realized that, the fire seemed to spread. In just a few heartbeats, the plain was sprinkled with burning pools of sulfur, reddish orange, like a collection of portals into Hell. Legroeder's pulse quickened. What do you all see down there? he whispered.

  Looks pretty featureless to me, said Deutsch.

  Also to me, murmured Palagren.

  Was he the only one who saw the fire? Legroeder glanced up at Ker'sell, and knew the answer. The Narseil was staring down from the top gun position, not at the landscape, but at Legroeder. Those weren't portals down there; that was Ker'sell's anger. Flickers of fire, of suspicion and rage.

  Legroeder spoke softly to Ker'sell. What is it? What's bothering you?

  What's to tell? Ker'sell's eyes seemed to say. The Narseil was eaten up by distrust of Legroeder, but he wasn't going to speak it aloud.

  If you think I betrayed you, I did not. Legroeder was surprised by his own calm, in contrast to the smoldering sulfur. I see your anger down there. That's you, not the Flux, isn't it?

  Ker'sell didn't answer, but Palagren glanced back at Legroeder in surprise. Palagren clearly didn't know what Legroeder was seeing, but he also seemed to be struggling with something else. Self doubt? Uncertainty about whether he could fulfill his promise to bring them through this place? Is everything all right with you two? Palagren asked. Then he grunted, as if he suddenly understood.

  Perhaps he was glimpsing a moment or two into the future, because Ker'sell suddenly hissed to Legroeder, You work with the enemy, you make friends with them. Do you make love to them, too?

  Legroeder was speechless. He had to grope for words to reply. I did not betray you. I did my job. What would we have learned about Impris if we had not come here with this crew?

  Something in the Narseil's eyes brightened and then went dark, and Legroeder couldn't gauge the effect of his words. But below the ship the image suddenly changed again—the seething landscape dissolving to reveal something moving beneath it, a shadow under the molten surface.

  Wait! Legroeder cried, as the image began to fade away. Did you see that?

  The others looked, but whatever he had seen was gone now, and the sulfur with it. Perhaps it was just a reflection of all the disturbances in the net.

  He shook his head as the images continued to evolve. They were high above ground in night flight, a weblike array of thousands of tiny nodes of liquid light sprawled out on the surface below. The array seemed to loom out of an infinity of darkness, as though they might fall down through the spaces between the threads, into some other universe altogether. This reminds me of our homeworld, Palagren said suddenly, with wistful longing in his voice. From Ker'sell, there was an even stronger reaction. He seemed to be struggling with a desire to break out of the net, to dive into that world and leave all of them behind.

  A heartbeat later, a similar homesickness hit Legroeder, as if his own homeworld might be hidden somewhere below.

  Something's there. I feel it, Deutsch said quietly from the keel position. For a moment, Legroeder could not identify the emotion disguised by Deutsch's metallic voice. And then he had it: fear.

  W
hy fear?

  What do you see, Freem'n?

  Not sure. Not sure.

  Legroeder peered, but could see nothing to be afraid of. What does it look like? I don't see anything at all.

  Not sure. Shadows. Just a glimpse of something. Gone now, said Deutsch. His voice reverberated with increasing fear.

  I felt it, too, said Palagren. A presence. I don't know what. He seemed to be catching some of Deutsch's fear, overlaid with a deep and troubling need. Do we dare go closer?

  Deutsch tensed perceptibly at the suggestion.

  Let's be careful here, said Legroeder. What do we hope to find?

  Movement, Palagren said. If there is movement...

  Then we shouldn't turn away from it, Legroeder thought. But that doesn't mean we should plunge right in, either. All right, he said. But cautiously.

  It felt as if the image simply swelled up to engulf him. It was dark and mysterious, drawing him into something beautiful and exciting...

  With a rush of memory, he felt himself becoming aroused as the shadows resolved into a powerful image of Tracy-Ace/Alfa, unclothed, reaching out, open to him at her center, eyes filled with inexpressible longing. Legroeder fell toward the image with a muted groan, unable to resist the hunger...

  What's this? Ker'sell hissed, wheeling around to glare at him.

  With a jerk of recognition, Legroeder tried to veer away from the thought; this was the last thing he wanted any of the others in the net to see. He strove to banish it, but Tracy-Ace was moving toward him, fingers closing around his shoulder blades, mouth closing on his...

  Exactly as I thought! Ker'sell hissed, his anger flaring in the net like a pale, crackling flame.

  No—it's not—! Legroeder protested as he struggled to change the image. Did Palagren and Deutsch see it, too? (Help me!) he whispered to the implants.

  // Initiating change,// they answered, and began a swift reweaving of the image.

  Tracy-Ace was transformed in an eyeblink into another woman...

  (Not you!) he whispered, as the beautiful, raven-haired pirate from DeNoble beckoned to him, augments flickering with sinister delight. (Christ, not Greta!)

  // Changing again... //

  (Just help me wipe it—!)

  There was a flicker, and the image changed abruptly. The female form turned into a luminous wire figure and spun away from him, moving out across the darkness with a final sparkle. Legroeder gasped in relief.

  I'm not sure I understand what's happening here, Palagren said slowly, as though rousing himself from a daze.

  Ker'sell was still hissing, but his outrage seemed to ebb as he was distracted by changes in the scene below. The spiderweb pattern of lighted cities was turning into a cyber-landscape of cyan and crimson webbing suspended over black, illuminated from within by speeding pulses of sapphire and orange. They were dropping toward it as though moving through an intelnet. We must not fly through this! Ker'sell cried.

  Legroeder reacted with annoyance. Why not? Does anyone else see a problem?

  Not here, said Deutsch.

  Palagren glanced backward, gesturing in the negative.

  Then what was Ker'sell alarmed at?

  (What do you see?) Legroeder asked his augments.

  // Analyzing... the activity below is very regular and rhythmic, as if all activities balance other activities. No net gain... //

  Activity in the Sargasso... balancing and canceling...?

  (Can you filter it, let me see the component movements?)

  // Attempting... //

  The augment matrix began to blur through its analyzing and filtering routines. At the same time, he felt the image begin to shift; one of the other riggers was changing it. Leave it a moment!

  It's making me dizzy, Ker'sell complained, continuing to change the image.

  Legroeder reached to stop him. Why are you afraid? I need to know what's happening. Then, a little too sternly: I'm in command here! Freem'n, help me!

  Deutsch reacted in some unseen way, meshing his augmentation with the Kyber net to block the change.

  No! Ker'sell protested. We can't!

  What are you afraid of? Legroeder shouted, his annoyance growing. Don't keep trying to change it! Tell me!

  The Narseil's fear was palpable, radiating throughout the net. There are things down there—things out of time—past, future—all mixed up! I can't see...

  What things? Legroeder tried to probe the image, but it was all entangled with the Narseil's fear. You've got to—

  NO! Cracks in time! Splinters! Things moving—!

  Ker'sell, said Palagren suddenly. Pull out of the tessa'chron! You're losing objectivity!

  Instead of answering, Ker'sell made a desperate attempt to bypass Deutsch's blocks. The net quaked from his efforts.

  This was becoming dangerous. You are relieved! Legroeder commanded. Ker'sell—leave the net.

  What—? squawked the Narseil.

  Get out of the net! At once!

  For an instant, no one moved. Then Palagren said to his fellow Narseil, Follow his instructions.

  Ker'sell abruptly vanished from the net.

  Legroeder's heart was pounding. He tried to concentrate on the landscape below, the virtual cyberimage of a world. All right. He gulped. Let's all calm down. He took three deep breaths, focusing on the flickering movements. Palagren—get on the com and talk to Ker'sell. Find out what he saw, why he was so alarmed.

  As Palagren obeyed, Cantha called from the bridge. We're picking up a lot of strange quantum effects. I can't quite follow it. And Ker'sell is quite upset. Captain wants to know, are things under control?

  Legroeder was breathlessly trying to assess that very question. What had Ker'sell seen that the others could not? Was he just hallucinating, or were there really—?

  Legroeder's heart nearly stopped as he saw a shape begin to form among the threads of light below. What was that—and why did he feel alarmed by it, even before he knew what it was?

  Legroeder, are you doing something? Deutsch asked worriedly.

  Not intentionally. I've got my implants trying to sort out energy flows that are canceling each other...

  Well, yeah—so am I, Deutsch said. But I'm not getting anywh—

  His words broke off as the new image suddenly came to life. An enormous, spiderlike thing rose up out of the crisscrossing threads of light. Its body was an illuminated shape of transparent glass. It was moving across the landscape with a slow, undulating movement. Streaming out from it were faint wavelets in the Flux, moving backward like the wake of a boat.

  What is that? Palagren whispered in fascination. Is it alive?

  Legroeder shrugged, watching it with a creeping horror. He struggled to control his emotions; he didn't know where they were coming from. Look at the wake moving back from it. Is that canceling its energy?

  Let's find out, Deutsch said darkly, as if disapproving of this strange manifestation.

  Legroeder nodded uneasily. Was he wrong to have sent Ker'sell away? Had Ker'sell been the first to see a real danger? Palagren was beginning to steer the ship away from the spider thing. Wait, Palagren. I think we need to investigate this, Legroeder said, feeling afraid even as he said it.

  If we could probe the thing's wake, Deutsch muttered. He seemed charged with a dark kind of excitement. If we could reach down... As he spoke, he stretched a long arm down from the keel of the ship, trolling it in the wavelets far below.

  The ship suddenly began to descend.

  Alarmed, Legroeder said, That may not be a good idea. Pull your arm out.

  I can't!

  Look, Palagren said. The spider thing had turned and begun to stretch out toward them, as though it were a living thing. The wake streaming out from it was becoming more energetic.

  Do you hear that? Palagren asked.

  Legroeder's heart was pounding. What?

  Voices. Below us.

  Legroeder strained. At first, nothing; but as the glassy spider loomed toward them, he felt a su
dden shiver. Something was happening to the spider; it was melting into a ghostly haze of light. Faces were forming in the haze, faces of light. Human, or nearly human, faces. Ghost faces...

  That's what I heard. Their voices, Palagren whispered.

  Legroeder's stomach knotted. The ghostly faces, drawn thin as though with desolation and anguish, were peering up at him, rising from the auroral glow to meet the ship. Were they images from his subconscious, or from Deutsch's?

  The voices grew louder. Cries, and groans of distress.

  Jesu, Legroeder whispered. He felt from Deutsch a horror like his own. They were only images, weren't they? But why here, why now?

  Something strange is happening in the tessa'chron, Palagren whispered. It's slipping away from me...

  The ghosts veered away just before reaching the ship. Their passage sent shock waves through the net.

  What the hell was going on? Legroeder tried to focus...

  His implants spoke. // Freem'n is remembering... we glimpsed it in his matrix... faces of death.//

  Faces of death? But from where?

  More ghost-faces rose on shimmering waves. One flew so close its cry sent a poker through Legroeder's heart. He thought he recognized the voice. But how could that—? Freem'n! Was it Deutsch's memory of people he had watched die on starships, victims of piracy? Freem'n!

  Legroeder, are you all right?

  That was Palagren, nearly drowned out by the wail of the specters whirling around the ship.

  Legroeder?

  I'm not... sure, he whispered. Holy MOTHER OF—

  HEL-L-L-P US-S-S! cried a spirit flashing past. For an instant Legroeder saw a young man's rictus-face pressed against the net like a window pane. It was no one he knew; yet he was overwhelmed by a sense that he had met this man before.

  HEL-L-L-P US-S-S... !

  The ghost veered away, and as Legroeder and Deutsch flinched, the ship rocked dangerously. Fly the ship, Legroeder thought desperately; but he couldn't control his fear. Palagren was trying to compensate. Ker'sell—come back into the net! We need you! the Narseil called into the com.