The Tau Ceti Diversion

by Chris McMahon

  Karic was filled with relief. He had not expected the alien to be so reasonable, but just like that, he had won freedom for himself, Andrai and Mara.

  He also felt a heavy disappointment. The chance of a lifetime had been dangled in front of him — to explore the universe in an advanced alien ship — and he had rejected it. With a grim feeling of certainty, he felt this voyage home to Earth would be his last. But I do not know that for sure. I have to let the future take care of itself.

  The Fountain was impatient for the details of the location, and annoyed at himself for allowing these aliens so much latitude. He would return them alive to their planet — however, the secret of the Fintil’s existence would still be protected. He allowed himself some small measure of satisfaction. These humans were terrible negotiators. Karic would not find all to be as he expects on his return to Earth. Best to move quickly before the human thinks to question him more thoroughly.

  “Now tell me where the changed Imbirri are located,” asked the Fintil.

  Karic now understood the Imbirri and their place on this world. They were the “larval” stage of the Fintil’s lifecycle, like the caterpillar of the butterfly on Earth. The hardened shells that had engulfed Utar and his followers were the Fintil chrysalis. Once, these “Fin” had been non-sentient during this early phase, yet something had occurred that altered this. They had become sentient beings and had succeeded in resisting the biological programming that would start their transformation to pupa and ultimately adult Fintil. They had staved it off long enough to create their own culture, their own society. The Change that so terrified the Imbirri would see that idyllic life destroyed forever.

  “Utar’s body and the bodies of two of his acolytes are in the same dark valley where we found the power rod,” thought Karic to the Fintil.

  Images of the bier that held Utar’s body filled the Fountain’s mind. He saw the encased bodies of Utar and his two attendants and through Karic sensed the power within the Deepwatch. The Fountain realized immediately that Utar would be the key to winning the trust of his children.

  “You must take me to the bier at once,” demanded the Fintil.

  “Of course,” replied Karic, but his head was immediately filled with other concerns. The recovery of the screen, the lander and the pod.

  “Do not concern yourselves for your machines. We will take them with us.”

  The Fountain broke contact. He extended himself to full height and turned his gaze to a small device in his belt. Karic’s senses were still keenly tuned, and he could sense the Fountain using his mind to activate the device. It began to hum, then grew silent.

  The Fountain turned to Karic, the towering golden figure fixing him with his gaze. His wings unfurled slightly, the folded layers of golden, translucent material fluttering in the breeze.

  Isolated now from the alien’s mind, Karic felt anxiety build. Could he really trust the Fountain? One thing was certain, without the strange twist of genetics and fate that gave him his gift, the gulf between the Fintil and humanity would have been too great to bridge. The new gifts that had grown out of the shameful dysfunction of the fugue had saved their lives.

  The Fintil made brief mental contact.

  It will not be long.

  The Fintil turned away, walking slowly across the slope. There, he stopped to look out at the green landscape. He remained so motionless, Karic thought he could be a statue, carved from golden resin.

  He had to remain focused. With deliberate effort, he pushed the fugue state away. It was best now that the Fintil could not read his thoughts. He had been fortunate so far. Had the Fountain been less restrained, less honorable … He did not want to contemplate the outcome.

  A large spinning platform appeared, flying rapidly from one of the dark zones beyond the crystal mountains. It was circular, and constructed of three disks, the top stationary, while the bottom two spun at extraordinary speeds in opposite directions.

  As it approached, Karic took an involuntary step backwards — the platform was almost half a kilometer wide. His eyes narrowed, searching instinctively for its mode of operation, yet he could see nothing. No engines, no fuel tanks, no wings … yet it flew.

  Mara and Andrai wandered down the hill to Karic, their eyes fixed on the extraordinary craft approaching them.

  “I think it’s going to be OK. I’ve managed to communicate with him,” said Karic.

  “Who is this alien, Karic? What is he doing?” asked Mara.

  “His name is the Fountain. He is one of the Fintil, the race that built the transmission network — the crystal mountains that bring heat and light to the dark side of Cru.”

  Mara frowned.

  There was so much to tell them, Karic scarcely knew where to start.

  The Fintil used the device at his belt once more, and the platform lowered to the hillside.

  “Here it comes!” yelled Andrai.

  The strange craft dropped smoothly toward them. In the center of the circular platform was a big robot, its articulated body folded back into itself. It resembled a squat metallic spider. Its cylindrical eyepieces glittered in the white light.

  The Fintil walked slowly to Karic, sending him a quick mental instruction. Please step onto the platform.

  Karic gave a nervous glance back to Andrai and Mara and waved them on. As soon as they stepped onto the top platform, the force of the planet’s gravity was dulled. They found themselves surrounded by a field of shimmering green. Within it, they seemed to glow, like particles trapped in a beam of sunshine.

  The Fountain once more communicated with the device at his belt. The field around them strengthened, holding them securely in place, as though they were surrounded by a form-fitting sheath of foam.

  They lifted skyward.

  Alongside them, the Fountain also launched himself into the air, his great, golden wings driven by the thick bands of muscle in his broad shoulders, his gleaming carapace and tapered abdomen shining with the reflected light of the crystal mountain below. The platform adjusted its flight to match the Fintil’s speed, effortlessly taking them along in his wake.

  The wind rushed around them, and the engineer had to shout to be heard over the torrent. “He is taking us and all our equipment back to the darkened valley. He is going to return us to Starburst!”

  Mara’s eyes widened, and she shouted more questions back to Karic, but the air snatched them away.

  They glided toward their former base camp, where the lander had come under attack from the Awakener. The Fountain soared down, landing lightly. A few seconds later the platform also touched down. The green light faded, and they were released from the field that had kept them secure atop the platform.

  The Fintil waited patiently while the humans deactivated the shield and moved it onto the platform, stacking it neatly. The lander’s core section, ejected skyward when the external tanks exploded, was now some distance away. Only the wreckage of the tanks and the shattered engines and their housings remained.

  Once they were done, the field around them strengthened once more and they lifted into the air.

  They watched the charred earth where the lander had stood in silence as they flew away, the twisted and blackened metal, the melted earth.

  The group drifted higher, rising far above the jungle. Mara and Andrai looked around them with wide eyes.

  The Fountain, having first risen to a height well above the volcanic peak, now dove directly toward the forest canopy on the other side of the ridge: his keen eyes searching the jungle below for the lander’s core section. Gradually, the rapid descent slowed, and they hovered above the jungle.

  Then abruptly they dove again, the tips of the forest canopy rising toward them like a wall. Mara screamed as they came within meters of the canopy, then suddenly stopped.

  The field around them dropped away once more.

  The Fountain flew to the side of the platform. As he drew close, the robot stirred to life. Its body rose, towering above them on legs more than five
meters long. One by one, its six articulated arms uncurled. It was huge, and Karic found it hard to believe it could have risen from such a compact shape.

  The robot stepped off the platform into the jungle below, disappearing from sight for a few moments. Then, with the breaking of boughs and the cracking of branches, the lander’s core section rose above the jungle, carried effortlessly in the arms of the robot, which stepped back onto the platform, lowering the entire lander onto it.

  The base of the core section was ragged and torn, but the cabin was intact. Luckily, the shield had been in place over the viewport, protecting it. The external struts and fittings had melted together, forming weird, twisted shapes. Soon, it too was surrounded by the same green field generated by the Fintil’s devices.

  The Fountain lifted into the air once more, striking out directly for the position of the concealed pod as shown to him in Karic’s mind.

  A few minutes later the platform lowered once more, the robot stepping easily through the jungle to retrieve the pod and place it beside the lander’s blackened core section.

  The Fountain climbed, wings beating faster as he fixed his mind on the goal ahead. He knew of the darkened valley. This was one of the places where the Fintil stored their machinery during the period of the Fins’ growth. The whole dark side had been made safe for them, with the transmission node adjacent to the storage area dulled as an added precaution. Although sheathed within self-sustaining stasis fields, none of the machinery there would operate until the fusion reactor buried in the heart of the node was activated, transmitting the energy required to bring it to life.

  The Fintil’s wings beat faster, and together, the small group sped toward the shadowed valley where Utar’s chrysalis lay.

  As he flew, the Fountain used powerful instruments on the bright side to remotely check the orbit of the Fintils’ Translocator. Its orbit had not decayed, and yet, the records showed that the period of Shedding — when the singularity took on mass from Tau Ceti to maintain its integrity and some of these gases were ejected or “shed” into space in the process — had been altered. He could scarcely believe it possible, but the conclusion was inescapable. One of the Imbirri had accessed the interface of their most powerful machine — and used it to send directed radiation at the humans’ ship. It had been a brutal act, and yet, he could not help but feel a sense of pride. To have come so far … It was a shame that all the Imbirri must perish to give the Fintil life. They must all be induced to enter their own chrysalises and leave this phase of their existence behind.

  It would be a simple matter to delay the Shedding until the humans’ ship was far distant. A few adjustments of spin, field strength … yes, it could be done. There was easily enough mass in the kernel — the black hole’s core — for it to maintain its integrity. But a seed of fear remained in his heart. What other devices of the Fintil had these innocents used? He could not underestimate them again.

  ***

  Far below the Fountain, concealed within the lush growth of the forest, the Awakener watched the golden interloper sweep south, drawing the aliens and their litter with him.

  The mere sight of the Fintil triggered an ancient instinct inside him, and he could feel the Changes stir. This golden being represented the death of all he and Utar had labored so long to preserve. He struggled to push aside the lassitude that this golden being evoked in him, the terrifying urge to surrender to his own body, and view him as just another alien. Another intruder.

  He had to protect the Imbirri. He sensed that time was running out. Events were drawing close to some crisis and he knew he had to resolve this before that time came.

  The Changed Imbirri he had destroyed still haunted him. Their faces, their vanished voices, would not leave him in peace. The violence had stained him, and he feared what he had become. Feared what his friend Utar would say of him now.

  But Utar was no more.

  Committed to his course, he allowed himself to feel the same hot rage he felt after Utar’s death. He used this to sharpen his focus, to drive himself forward. As he watched the aliens move through the sky, he longed to give vent to that fury. To end the existence of all these strangers with one sizzling bolt of power from the scepter; but he knew it would be foolish to attack them now. That winged creature possessed devices of power and he knew he must be careful. He had to wait, plan, then strike hard.

  As the Fountain finally disappeared over the horizon, the Awakener signaled to his faithful. They rose from their places of concealment and dutifully followed in his determined wake as he made his way back to the village. He would gather every one of the Imbirri left alive and follow this golden being.

  The Awakener had observed much in his many years of the ways of nature, and knew that winged creatures typically flew in a direct line toward their goal. He knew what lay in that direction. He and Utar had been there before, in the long years of their exploration of Cru, before they raised the First. It was there they had found the scepter, one of the inexplicable artifacts scattered across their world, left by the enigmatic ancients, a powerful race of builders that he and Utar believed must have once inhabited Cru.

  He would lead all the Imbirri to the distant encampment of these aliens and watch them until he knew the time of their weakness. He owed it to the Imbirri that sheltered beneath his protection to continue the fight. He could not let them … change. No matter how scarred he became, how damaged by his actions, there was no choice but to continue, otherwise the pressure of the Changes would overwhelm them all, sweeping them up in an unstoppable wave that would lead to the ultimate end of all Imbirri culture. The Awakener pushed his mind away from thoughts of the Changes, away from the glimpsed memories of the golden abominations they birthed … He walled off that part of his mind, sensing a realization brewing inside him that he was not prepared to face.

  The Awakener examined the metal haft of the scepter. For long years it had been nothing but a mystical artifact. A symbol of the never-ending life of the Imbirri. No longer.

  Now it was a weapon.

  A symbol of their ultimate victory.

  CHAPTER 17

  Karic and his crew entered the darkened valley together, still part of the winged alien’s weird convoy. He had managed to answer most of Andrai and Mara’s questions as they traveled, but had long since given up trying to shout across the rushing wind as they flew south across the dark side. The three of them were content to be silent, held aloft by the Fountain’s devices and enthralled by the darkening landscape that fled by beneath them. They and all their equipment were shrouded by glistening green. The field nullified not only the hold of gravity, but the effects of inertia as well. It was hard not to covet such technology.

  Soon they were surrounded by deep twilight. Far in front of them, the Fountain’s powerful shoulders flexed in an even rhythm, his slim, elegant body held into the wind with perfect poise. He flew effortlessly, maintaining their course as much through instinct as through design. The golden, flashing wings were now darkened silhouettes, gleaming only when the waning radiance of some distant transmission node reached briefly over the rim of the valley. Now, beneath them, outlined in dull green by the field that held them in place, they could just make out the eerie shape of Utar’s funeral bier as the Fountain began his descent.

  The Fintil landed with a careful economy of motion, folding his wings as he touched the ground. The platform followed a few moments later, the spinning lower plate hovering a few inches off the bare earth.

  The robot unfurled once more, methodically carrying the bulky pod and lander core section off the platform and placing them gently on the ground. The lander and pod settled under their own weight, the planet drawing them covetously to its heart. The humans helped the robot carry the many barrier fence components. It made a strange companion.

  Finally, the robot clambered back into position, lowering itself into place and retracting methodically into its compact form. Then the platform disappeared over the horizon. Karic watched it g
o, wondering how many other storage caches were dotted across the dark side, filled with Fintil technology.

  Released from the spell of the strange journey, they went directly to their crafts to assess the condition of each. Karic gave rapid orders, and within minutes the pod and the antenna linking them to the Starburst had been repositioned beside the lander’s core section. The three crew then carefully redeployed the defensive shield around their encampment, this time ensuring that the generated field formed an enclosing dome. Karic was adamant they take no more chances, despite the apparent benevolence of the Fountain.

  At last they were secure within the defensive field.

  Karic stood outside the lander’s outer airlock, Andrai and Mara behind him. The lander’s impact must have been catastrophic. There was no way Janzen could have escaped unscathed, and he dreaded what he would find inside the cabin.

  He could not put it off any longer.

  They had to work their way into the shattered door mechanism, using pry bars from the pod’s toolkit to lever open the maintenance plate. Inside, the servos were still intact, but the power conduit had been severed in the crash. They ran an electrical lead from the pod and fed power to the servos, which whirred into life. The hatch door retracted, the seal breaking with a hiss. It stopped immediately, leaving a gap a handspan wide. The impact had twisted the hatch frame — only by millimeters — but that was enough to stop it opening. Karic peered through the gap. He could see nothing in the darkened interior. “Use the pry bar.”

  For a frustrating hour, they worked to restore enough clearance for the servos to fully open the hatch. They were soaked with sweat. Exhausted. The whole time Karic could hear the tiny motors straining against the obstruction. Just when it seemed they would never succeed, the hatch snapped open and they had their first view of the interior.

  Janzen had activated a suspension set. He was lying prone on one of the thickly padded support frames, his body surrounded by the ghostly field. He had a wound to his head, and one of his arms was in a sling, but apart from this, he appeared in good health.