Quinn stroked his chin. “That’s very interesting.”
“Yes, it seems you not only rid our ships of the AI, but gave us immunity. Can you provide us with any insights on that?”
“No, I’m afraid I can’t.”
Grey’s tentacles waved like grass in a wind. “Well, at least we know that if we can find a way to purge other ships, then they too will likely be safe from future attack. Unfortunately, the likelihood is that the AI will obliterate us before we can find the answers. Our resources will become depleted, or the AI will set a trap for us. We’ll be finished either way. Our only chance for survival is to widen our alliance, and the only potential ally capable of taking on the Consensus is humanity.”
Quinn blinked. “You can’t be serious.”
“Our three races are in agreement,” Grey said. “We will convey you to human-controlled space, where you will serve as intermediary.”
“But… human technology is way behind yours.”
“We will gift you our knowledge. With it, you will be able to confront the Consensus on equal terms.”
Quinn massaged his forehead and stared ahead for several moments. “No.”
“Quinn—” Grey began.
Quinn shook his head. “Look, I’m not refusing to help. It just won’t work, that’s all.”
“How can you be certain?”
“I know my people. Most humans are convinced theirs is the only sentient life in the galaxy. If an alien flotilla were to turn up on their doorstep, I’m not sure what the reaction might be. Panic, possibly. Fear and mistrust, certainly. They would confine your ships and put you under a microscope for weeks—months maybe. Even if they believed you and agreed to help, it would take years to incorporate your technology into human vessels. You’ve seen how rapidly the AI has spread through the Consensus. Do you honestly believe you have that kind of time?”
“You’re saying we are lost?”
“No,” Quinn replied. “I have an alternate plan—one that I believe has a much higher chance of success.”
“And what is that?”
Quinn’s eyes hardened to points. “I’m going to get Conor back. And then I’m going to pay a call on the Elinare.”
~
The carriage slowed and pulled to a halt adjacent to an empty platform.
A panel slid aside. The Shanata disembarked and formed up in two rows, facing each other. Quinn and Grey filed between them. The black-suited figures stared forwards. Their world was no more, but any expression of pain or anguish remained hidden behind their face coverings.
Quinn followed Grey down a corridor lined with strip lights. Vil-gar’s sphere bobbed over Quinn’s shoulder. The Shanata tramped after them like shadows.
“According to the Shanata, the Elinare escaped confinement millennia ago,” Grey said. “Their whereabouts are unknown, if they even still exist.”
“They exist,” Quinn affirmed.
“You know this?”
“I encountered them in the neighbour universe.”
Grey was silent for so long, Quinn concluded he must have said something to offend him. Finally, the creature spoke. “The Unity says that is most unlikely.”
The Unity—the gestalt conscious that linked all Osei. Though Quinn was addressing an individual, he was conversing with a race.
“An Agantzane ship attacked us just as we entered the portal in the Shana system,” Quinn said. “The blast knocked us far off the beacon. An Elinare entered me. We shared consciousness for a while.”
They trooped inside a large elevator. The doors swished shut, and it began to rise.
“What happened?” Grey asked.
“He sacrificed his existence to save your ships from the AI. His name was Aurek.” Quinn felt a calm sense of fulfilment, as if he were eulogising a lifelong friend, though he had known the Elinare for less than a day.
Grey fell silent again before responding. “The Unity says it is more likely you imagined these events while unconscious.”
“Then how does your Unity explain the purge of your vessels?”
The doors opened onto a large, circular chamber Quinn recognised as the control area. Shanata and Osei moved among the shadows, together with a tall, willowy race he didn’t recognise—Badhati, perhaps. A transparent ceiling displayed a firmament of stars.
He remembered Conor and felt a twinge of panic. “We’ve left the planet.”
“We’re preparing to rendezvous with our fleet,” Grey replied.
“I need to free my son. The Medyr have him.”
“He is their prisoner?”
“I’m not sure. Possibly. In any case, I have less than a day to get him out of there.”
“Why’s that?” Grey asked.
“Because in less than a day, the dolin charged with protecting him will revive and bust out of the enclave, and all hell will break loose.”
Two creatures approached. One was a black-suited Shanata. Blue stripes embellished the creature’s collar and cuffs. The other was one of the willowy creatures. It wore a hooded, loose-fitting white robe, reminding Quinn of a monk.
Quinn frowned. “I didn’t think races allied to the Agantzane worked together,” Quinn said.
“You taught us the value of cooperation, Quinn,” Grey replied. “We of the Osei realised that in order to survive, we would have to widen our concept of Unity. This vessel has been designated control ship for the fleet. It is crewed by representatives of all three races.”
The Badhati’s brilliant blue eyes stared down at Quinn from beneath his hood. “Unimpressive.”
Quinn opened his mouth, and then clamped it shut, unsure how to respond.
“Can this be the one who cleansed our ships?” The Badhati’s tone was clean and sharp as a razor.
“This is he,” Grey said, making no mention of the Elinare. Was that out of respect, or because he simply did not believe Quinn’s wild tale?
The masked Shanata spoke. “You will represent us in our negotiations with humanity.” Quinn blinked. The voice was female.
He glanced at Grey, but the Osei stayed silent. The others wanted his cooperation. That gave him leverage. He’d worry about fulfilling his side farther down the line. “My son is in a Medyr medical facility. I have to get him out.”
“Can you not simply request his release?” the female Shanata asked.
“It’s a little awkward,” Quinn replied. “Their Calix, Ga’zaan, and I have… history. Unfortunately, time is a factor. There’s a dolin down there that’s programmed to defend him. It’s recharging right now, but when it wakes up, it’ll pursue him into Medyran territory. The Medyr might well… expire Conor to protect themselves.”
“Extracting the human should be a simple matter,” the Badhati said. “We can use concussive drivers to flatten the Medyran levels one by one until they agree to give him up.”
Quinn shook his head. “That’s just as dangerous as letting the dolin loose. It’s my fault he’s there. I’m going to have to negotiate with Ga’zaan directly. Could you establish a communications link?”
“Yes, Quinn,” Grey replied. “But have you determined what to say?”
Quinn took a deep breath. “Sure. Go ahead.”
A patch of light flickered in front of Quinn. Several seconds passed before it resolved into Ga’zaan’s head and shoulders. The Medyr’s mottled face twitched. “Quinn. I am surprised to see you. Humans have a habit of turning up in the oddest places. I assume you are contacting me to inquire as to the welfare of your son?”
“That’s right.”
“He is receiving the best of care. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of the Medyran expeditionary force that your new allies destroyed.”
“That had nothing to do with me.”
“So they plucked you from the enclave out of what… compassion?” Ga’zaan spat out the last word as if it were a mouthful of piss.
Quinn closed his eyes. “Will you return Conor?”
“Certainly,” Ga’zaan said
. “Provided you meet my condition.”
Here it comes. “What condition?”
Ga’zaan leaned forward as if scenting victory. “The loss of the expeditionary force has placed me in a difficult position. The Medyr do not react well to failure. Those deemed responsible have a habit of… disappearing. I have had to dismiss my personal guard. I no longer know who among my own people I can trust.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Quinn said, though he was not sorry in the slightest.
“Yes, well, that is where you come in, Quinn.”
“I told you I had nothing to do with it. I had no idea you were going to launch an attack on the enclave or that the Shanata would turn up.”
“Maybe, maybe not. But you can restore my status.”
“I don’t see how,” Quinn said.
“It’s simple. You will reprogram the dolin to obey my commands.”
Vil-gar appeared in a flash of light. The Badhati stepped back, and the Shanata female reached for her side arm. Quinn raised a restraining hand.
“Who’s that?” Ga’zaan demanded.
“No one,” Quinn replied. “He’s no one at all.”
Vil-gar cocked his head and regarded Quinn. “Giving this Medyr control of the dolin would be a serious mistake.”
“Shut up,” Quinn said.
“He wishes to manipulate you for his own ends.”
“I said, shut up!”
Ga’zaan peered down his long nose. “Do you take orders from this creature now?”
Ga’zaan’s taunt only reinforced Vil-gar’s warning, but it didn’t matter. I have no choice. I created this problem— I have to fix it. Quinn had no idea how to reprogram the dolin even if he wanted to, but if Ga’zaan got wind of it, he might conclude further negotiation was pointless and kill Conor out of sheer spite.
Quinn had to keep Ga’zaan interested, and that meant he had to buy time. “I need a day.” In less time than that, the dolin would break out of the enclave, and all bets would be off.
Ga’zaan’s features worked as if he were about to argue. “One solar day. But I expect you to deliver the dolin within that time. Remember, your son is counting on you.”
The patch of light flickered and then vanished.
The Badhati loomed over Quinn, and his eyes burned. “Reprogramming the dolin to serve the Medyr would give them total control of Pann. They would quickly subjugate the other races.”
Quinn opened his mouth to reply, but Vil-gar got ahead of him. “Quinn has no intention of delivering the dolin to them, do you, Quinn!”
Quinn blinked. Was the little creature claiming to be a mind reader now? He addressed the Shanata female. “Can Ga’zaan monitor us?”
“No,” she replied.
Quinn nodded. “Can you scan for individuals on the upper level?”
“We can launch an infrared probe. The various races can be identified by their differing heat signatures.”
“Could you locate my son?”
“Possibly.” She crossed to a bank of consoles that ran the length of one side of the control area, followed by the representatives of the three races. Quinn brought up the rear, along with Vil-gar’s glowing image.
The little creature waddled as if making contact with the floor. His sphere floated at a discreet distance. He turned to Quinn and cupped a conspiratorial hand to his mouth. “You’re going to bust him out, right?”
Quinn ignored him.
A Shanata operator sat perched on a narrow chair. The female Shanata spoke soft words of command, and the operator waved over the lighted panels. A pair of outline figures appeared on a screen, tinged with yellow, orange, and red, and surrounded by unknown symbols.
The female Shanata studied the display. “I am sorry, Quinn. Human and Medyran heat signatures fall within the same range. Our probe would not be able to tell them apart.”
Sweat trickled down Quinn’s temples. He had clung to the hope of finding Conor and grabbing him before Ga’zaan figured out what was happening. What to do?
As he stared at the screen, a fresh idea surfaced.
“Could you find a Nemazi?”
~
Quinn stepped out of the tetrahedron and onto a high, flat roof. Vil-gar’s sphere floated at his elbow. Quinn had insisted on going alone. It’s my problem. I have to fix it. The others had acquiesced with nothing more than a murmur, but Vil-gar didn’t appear to comprehend the meaning of “alone”. Short of swatting the machine interface, there wasn’t a lot Quinn could do to get rid of him.
Light faded with the onset of evening. Orange-tinged clouds gathered like surf on an incoming tide. I’m running out of time. Once the dolin reactivated, it would go after Conor, eliminating anything or anyone it perceived as a threat. Reasoning with it would be fruitless. It would not set aside its core programming. If Ga’zaan figured that out, he might well conclude that killing Conor was the only way to stop its rampage. Or he might assume it was under Quinn’s control and kill Conor by way of revenge. Either way, Quinn had to get Conor out before the balloon went up.
He scanned the rooftop and spotted a lone, seated figure staring straight ahead with stick-like insect legs folded like some shiny black fakir. Far above, an infrared probe had picked out the Nemazi’s low body temperature from the mass of Medyr and other races. What’s he doing?
Nemazi had a ceremony for everything—getting up in the morning, sharing water, forming alliances. Living on a desert world, where every day was a struggle for survival, made each moment of life a cause for reverence. Perhaps he was contemplating the nature of existence.
Sneaking up on a Nemazi with razor-sharp claws seemed ill-advised. Quinn skirted around so as to approach him from the side.
He was still a full five metres away when Zothan spoke without turning his head. “Magatha rashan, Quinn. I knew you would come. I am keeping watch over your son.”
Quinn scanned the rooftop. “I don’t see him.”
Zothan extended a claw towards a white building opposite. “He is within the Medyr’s primary care facility. Their healers have repaired his injuries and restored his body fluids. He is weak but stable.”
Zothan’s four-space vision penetrated walls and any other obstacles. That’s how he’s keeping watch.
Quinn’s spirits lifted. “Can you get him out of there?”
Zothan shook his head slowly. “I regret that I cannot. The Medyr have encompassed the building with the same one-way disruption net that protected the Esrach. If I transferred in, I would be trapped.”
Quinn jumped as Vil-gar appeared next to him in a flash of light. “That’s where I come in.”
“What is his purpose here?” Zothan asked.
“I am your distraction!” Vil-gar said before Quinn could frame a reply. “Or rather, distractions. My interface is capable of producing multiple images of my impressive form. Medyran security will be run ragged chasing my doppelgängers while you and the boy make your escape.”
“You planned this?” Quinn said.
Vil-gar grinned. “I told you, my superior intellect can assess all contingencies with unfailing accuracy.”
You failed to foresee the Shanata’s arrival at the enclave. Quinn shook his head. Now was not the time for petty wrangling. “All right. What do we do?”
“Transfer to Conor’s location and retrieve him. I’ll clear a path so you can exit the building safely. Once you’re outside the net, you can transfer here and use the conveyor to rejoin the ship.”
Vil-gar vanished in a flash, and his sphere shot away, disappearing over the roof edge.
Zothan gazed up at Quinn. “You trust him?”
Quinn exhaled slowly. “No. But what choice do we have?”
~
Side by side with Zothan, Quinn stepped out of the swirling smoke onto the floor of an antiseptic room lined with winking monitors. Not long ago, he had lain in a similar recovery unit while Ga’zaan offered to provision his expedition to Pann’s lower levels in exchange for carrying a simple surveillanc
e device. That device had turned out to be a deadly pathogen that decimated the Kimn and emboldened the lower races to launch an all-out attack on their enclave. I should’ve used my Agantzane death touch on him. How many lives might have been saved?
Quinn scanned the rows of empty beds. The place seemed deserted. He took a step forward, and a pulsating wail filled the air.
“As I feared,” Zothan said. “We have triggered an alarm.”
“Where’s Conor?” Quinn asked.
“This way.”
Zothan zigzagged through the rows. Quinn followed, expecting a squad of armed Medyr to jump out at them at any moment. Zothan halted at a bed enclosed by a transparent cover. Inside was Conor, eyes closed, breathing shallow. A pair of lightly glowing pads was attached to his forehead. The Nemazi operated an unseen control, and the cover slid open.
Quinn hesitated. “Do you think it’s safe to move him?”
“I do not know,” Zothan replied.
It hardly mattered. There was no way Quinn was leaving him here. As he bent to pick the boy up, Vil-gar appeared next to him in a burst of light.
“You’re here. Good. Follow me.”
Grinding his teeth, Quinn slipped one arm under Conor’s back and the other under his knees and lifted him from the bed. The pads darkened and fell away. Conor’s eyelids flickered. Quinn saw no external signs of injury, but the boy felt gossamer-light and sharp-boned, as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks.
Vil-gar started to move off, but Zothan got ahead of him. “Your physical body—it still lies within the four-space environment you created?”
“Yes, yes,” Vil-gar replied with a note of impatience. “My life processes are sustained by the avatron.”
“But you are extremely old. Will you recover?”
For the first time, Quinn saw doubt pass over the little creature’s face. “I cannot be certain.”
The Arc of the Universe Page 10
