‘Stop giving things Azuran names!’ Tullia complained. ‘You’re obsessed with that planet with its daft name of Earth.’
‘Yeah, I know, the people, they’re all weirdos.’
‘Takes one to know one.’
‘Anyway, what about you searching for Azuran hairstyles?’ he challenged, not wanting to lose an argument so early in the day.
‘That’s different, that’s fashion. You wouldn’t understand. You’re a boy!’
Barn contained the family’s basic transport. Although looking like primitive sleds open to the elements, they were energy efficient and, as with almost all Tazian equipment, equipped with thought controls and energy shielding. All sleek lines, the fronts of the sleds curved up smoothly to form control columns shaped especially for travelling on water and snow. On the right were the twins’ single seaters and two more sleds with seats wide enough for two people. On the left rested the large family sled.
Tullia stood for a moment admiring her sled with its multiple shades of pink.
As Qwelby walked to his, he regretted his choice of colour. The variegated shades of orange and lime green had certainly been eye-catching – from a distance. Close up, it hurt his eyes. After their last visit to Lungunu he had resolved to change it at the first opportunity. He could have mentaformed the new colour scheme whilst the heavy and consistent snowfall had confined them to the house, but Tullia would have known what he was doing. He had an idea for some special effects and definitely did not want her to know if that went wrong.
Yet the time spent at home had been good. Mentally sharing with their four special friends they had all worked hard at their various college studies, building lots of energy credits as a result. Relaxation had been a mixture of games playing and exploring the Racial Memory Archives where, with all six working together, they were able to explore areas that were age restricted to older youngsters and young adults.
It had been frustrating watching the snow fall for five days when it was possible to transweave to Lungunu. Most means of travel such as powersleds or Twistors generated their own power, whereas teleportation required a large amount of external power. Although the power to operate such systems was freely available at source, a personal energy exchange was required for the social costs of the creation and maintenance of the Tsela network that distributed the power. To transweave, they would have had to ask permission, and they could not tell the truth. In theory, any Tazian could tell a lie, but that fact always showed up in that person’s own energy field. Hence Tazii did not even think of lying, unless they possessed very advanced mental skills, and even then only with great care.
Each seated on their own sled, they powered up the gravity repulsors, engaged the EMtrac drives and glided out of Barn, thoughtsharing that on their last visit Qwelby had taken the inside track so it was Tullia’s turn this time.
‘Winner chooses our evening HoloWrapper Adventure?’ Qwelby said as his twin came alongside.
‘Yay-oh!’ Tullia agreed.
Gliding a few centimetres above the snow, the twins swung their sleds around to the front of Siyataka, their home. They dialled down the GravReps so the sleds slowly settled with their broad and curved bases coming to rest on top of the snow. They stood up and reset the control columns into their upright positions. Speeding along without the safety harness they would normally use when seated was all part of the excitement of a race.
The front of the house had been grown from living stone of the palest shade of creamy yellow with veins of soft pink. The mentasculpted decoration reflected the family’s interests, with pride of place over the entrance being given to the interlinked disks representing the sun and moon, and their energies essential to all Tazian life. With regular and heavy winter snowfalls that entrance was set at the top of a short flight of steps.
The twins inspected Principal Door, which was already garlanding itself for the winter KeyPoint celebrations. Every year the family eagerly awaited the moment when Siyataka revealed its chosen theme. Naturally, the twins wagered. Their guesses were held securely by Siyataka until midnight on the Turn. The winner’s prize and the loser’s forfeit were decided by their father’s great uncle who delighted in playing games with them.
Principal Door opened, revealing their parents. Shandur held up a hand.
The twins waited.
Their father dropped his hand.
‘Eat Snow!!’ the twins yelled together as they sped away over the crisp snow, laughing as each sent thoughts trying to make the other lose control and fall off, to end up, literally, eating snow.
*
As always for a race they were using the challenging route that followed the switchback series of curves of a low range of hills. Side by side, the lead changing with each curve, yet never more than a few centimetres difference, Tullia was in the lead as they swung round a gentle curve to see Lungunu spread before them. Around a central dome, the five wings of the house fanned out like the petals of a flower. The sun shone brightly on the sandy coloured stone effect that was Lungunu’s current choice.
As their route bent sharply, hiding the house from view again and signalling the final part of the race, Qwelby felt a sense of triumph. With his twin on the inside of the concave bend he would have a slightly shorter path. Overtaking her, he gunned his sled for more speed for the straight run to Lungunu, only to sweep too wide of the final bend and hear Tullia’s cry of triumph as she clung tightly to the inside of the last turn.
As Lungunu came into sight they sensed their sleds level with each other. But. Interference with mental perception was all part of Tazian gamesplay, albeit with strict rules to ensure fairness between different age bands. Glancing sideways they confirmed it. They were nose to nose.
Switching vision, they examined the flowing lines of the planet’s magnetic field and each selected a line for the best run. The same line. Although intensely competitive they were Quantum Twins – one. Bent low over the control bars as they accelerated to maximum speed, their eyes opened wide as a series of multicoloured auras of electro-magnetic waves spread out from the house. Buried deep within the domed central section, the Stroems had to be SuperXzyling. Although the Stroems were safely contained within the Cavern, sometimes the effects of their Xzyling reached out well past Lungunu, usually copying the form of the house itself with its five wings. Facing them was a great arc of the planets distorted magnetic field looking like a multi-coloured pathway to the roof. Had their parents been with them they would have been commanded to veer aside, stop and wait for the disturbance to subside.
Side by side at full speed their sleds raced up the arc.
‘A Window!!’ they thoughtsent to House.
‘Open!!’ they added as it appeared.
Reaching the crest of the arc they shot through into the attic that formed the top section of all five wings. Thoughtsending to the sleds to power down and stop sent everything sliding across the floor. The twins followed, rolling along the short arm of a T-junction in their thick, padded sled suits, laughing with relief, and agreeing that the race had been a tie.
‘Phew. That was close!’ Qwelby exclaimed.
‘Yes,’ agreed House in a grumpy voice. ‘Two sekonds later and there would not have been a window there.’
‘But you’d have saved us,’ Tullia said.
‘That’s not the point,’ House replied. ‘You must allow Time for your image-into-action to work.’
‘It’s not our fault if the Stroems SuperXzyle,’ Qwelby added, petulantly.
House made a sound like someone clearing their throat. Difficult when there was no throat to clear. ‘Apology accepted.’
‘But I wasn’t…’
‘Tamuchly, House,’ Tullia said in a loud voice, overriding her twin and thumping him whilst she tight-beamed so House would not pick up her thought: ‘You know how tetchy House gets when the Stroems SuperXzyle, even if it’s not yet full moon.’
Qwelby howled like a werebeast and look
ed at the palms of his hands where hair was growing.
‘Oh, do grow up, Kaigii!’ an exasperated Tullia said, thumping him again for good measure.
<¡Alarm alert!>
‘Aw, House,’ Qwelby said, mentastroking the image the twins had given House of an ancient and honoured family retainer. ‘You know you enjoy playing with us.’ It was his turn to wheedle. He did it well, borrowing Tullia’s voice. ‘If you don’t tell… we won’t.’
House was in a quandary. It was a semisentient, which was a very useful attribute but not at moments like this. Because of the emergency caused by the Stroems excessive energy, it had taken the decision to override its programming and allow the twins into the attic. Now, about to sound the alarm as required, it stopped to review its options. Over the years there had been many occasions when it had allowed the twins to do things they shouldn’t. If that were to be discovered, House could have its enviable array of functions reduced. Yet their entry into the attic was strictly forbidden.
Qwelby felt Tullia making his mouth smirk. Tullia looked at him as his mouth returned to normal, and they grinned. Drawing on their twinergy, she had slid her mind into the controls and erased the data recording their entry. As its data showed that no-one had entered the attic, there was no reason for the alarm to be sounded. A slightly puzzled House withdrew its awareness from the attic.
‘Do you think?’ Qwelby asked.
‘No.’
They shook their heads in agreement. Gumma, as they called their Great Great Uncle Mandara, could not have deliberately created the wave. They knew that the planet’s six XzylStroems were the key to maintaining the essential link with Azura, as the Tazii called Earth. Orchestrating their eruptions and determining specific effects was beyond the capabilities of even as learned a scientist as the Arch-Discoverer of the Academy of Discoverers.
‘Lift,’ called Qwelby. ‘Sleds and suits to the usual places, tamuchly.’
Lift materialised, one side opaqued into not-being-there. The sleds and coats slid inside. The side de-opaqued into looking solid. Lift disappeared.
They looked at one another and smiled. No matter how similar they looked: faces, black hair and fashionable, one-piece bodysuits; they had chosen their favourite, bright colours: Qwelby in emerald green and red, Tullia in purple and lilac.
Free of the coat’s hood, Tullia let her hair down and vigorously shook her head. Taking a comb from one of the many carefully concealed pockets in her bodysuit, she ran it through her thick, waist long tresses, green light flickering from the ends as she rearranged her hair into that day’s artfully planned, casual-looking, Azuran style.
Qwelby contented himself with running his fingers through his equally thick, shoulder length hair, deliberately flicking the ends so as not to be outdone by the green flickering from his twin’s combing.
*
They looked around, not for the first time in their lives wondering at what appeared to be a convenient juxtaposition of events. They were united in their desire to break into the attic. Even drawing on their Quantum Twinergy they might have failed, yet the unrelated Xzyling had created a situation whereby House had let them in.
Gallia, as they called their Great Great Aunt Lellia, would say that events coming together like that were synchronicities, meaningful occurrences. It happened to the twins from time to time when they seriously wanted to achieve something important: by working together. Sometimes it suited what they wanted, at other times it prevented them from achieving their aim: but then that invariably turned out to have been for the best.
They knew from the slowly moving colourscopes of pale browns and greens on the walls that they were in Gumma’s wing of Lungunu. As they returned to the corridor end of the junction they looked both ways.
Standing side by side at arm’s length they held hands and tilted their heads to the side, one to the left the other to the right, ready to share the results.
After a while their eyes detected a tiny irregularity in the movement of the colours.
Each twin took one colour, circled it through their linked memories and played the relevant sequence backwards until the flow across the wall appeared to halt. They smiled as they saw down at floor level a little door set well back behind the false image of a solid wall. On hands and knees they crawled to it.
The lock required a key with two opposed sets of trines. They slid their minds into the lock.
‘No temporal sequencer. This is too easy?’ Qwelby thoughtsent.
‘We’re not supposed to be here. Remember!’ Tullia responded
They mentapushed the tumblers into the correct alignment.
In a world where children manipulated energy from a very early age, security was usually on a practical level, with quantum level devices being reserved for where exceptional levels of protection were required. Moving several solid levers, each imbued with additional inertia, required a major effort. Although tumblers were smaller and could not be loaded with so much inertia, juggling the usual two opposed sets of ten required intense skill. But not for the twins with their unique mental bonding.
Inside the room they found a big, colourless trunk that wasn’t really there.
Tullia bathed the trunk in a thoughtprojection so that Qwelby was able to examine it. After a few moments, they agreed that there was no conversion alarm.
His green body-suit was slashed with bright red patches shaped like flames. Some of them were pockets, fastened with teethless zips called szeames. He unszeamed one and took out one of Gumma’s inventions, a Molecular Gadget Reconstructor, which they had shortened to Mogarcon. It looked like a fat water pistol. Turning a dial on the side caused the free-flowing, phosphorescent energy inside to provide whatever gadget was selected. He chose a temporal readjuster, activated the plasma flow and swept it across the trunk. The air shimmered and a solid, grey trunk appeared.
‘No obvious lid. No handles. Two locks, one at each end. Two keys, needs Gumma and Gallia to open. But only one set of tumblers in each,’ he announced.
Putting a key in a normal lock, irrespective of the number of sets, the tumblers would jiggle up and down until the key was fully inserted. Turn the key: unlocked. A similar situation for thought projection.
Sliding their minds into the locks they exchanged images.
‘Deactivating the alarms as a start is well beyond us,’ Qwelby said.
‘Gumma definitely does not want us to open it,’ Tullia agreed.
They grinned.
The first alarm was in case a tumbler moved without a keyblade having been inserted. The second was for the time sequence. And the third? They would find out.
Holding hands and merging their energy fields into one so as to achieve maximum synchronicity, they started work. As the last two tumblers slid into place the first two alarms deactivated. Freed of the interlocking, the third disappeared.
The trunk hummed. The twins held their breaths, and sighed with relief when the top opened up like the petals of a flower in full bloom. The trunk now looked like a brown and gnarled tree trunk, its sides almost hidden by the fluorescent white petals of an enormous white moonflower.
‘Phew!!’ Both of them let out long held breaths and wiped sweat from their brows. ‘That was tricky,’ they said, their minds momentarily too tired to thoughtshare and to recognise the slightly out-of-focus nature of their surroundings indicating a temporal discontinuity.
Searching through the trunk, Tullia took out a shallow round box. It was dusky pink with an eye on the lid, both the oval and the central orb etched in silver. As she examined it, the oval turned pale blue, the orb purple, and the
etching around the orb lavender, matching her own eye.
‘Neat,’ she said, turning the box so that the eye on the lid matched the angle of hers, then tilted the box until it was exactly parallel with her own eye. The lid opened, as she had expected. Inside was a confusing mix of colours which turned out to be produced by three semi translucent disks of varying shades of blue, green and red.
There was an inner rim that looked as though it could rotate, with a series of little openings through which they thought they could see images. Trying to see them more clearly, Tullia discovered that the rim rotated, but in the opposite direction to what she had expected.
Tullia closed the box and handed it to Qwelby, the eye once again a dusky pink etched in silver. He matched the lid to the plane and angle of his eye just as she had done. The colour of the eye changed to reflect his own and the lid opened.
Agreeing with Tullia to call it Soloc, short for colours backwards, Qwelby closed the lid and put it to one side.
They knew Gumma experimented with Time, which was slightly elastic in the fifth dimension. It also had its own colouration. Gumma intended the box to be safely locked away. That meant they were not supposed to have it. Yet it was coded to open for each of them.
At the bottom of the trunk something coloured seemed to be wriggling. Qwelby delved and picked up a blue and green ball. Looking closer, they realised that the colours were on the inside of a semi-translucent surface. It looked like a map of a world that was inside out. They put that to one side very, very carefully. They knew if they thought too hard about what it might be like to be inside, with the power of image-into-action they could find themselves inside.
Then there was a magic lantern. It was black. The sort of black that wasn’t really black, but wasn’t dark grey either. They knew it was a magic lantern because the controls didn’t make any sense. On one side was a dial that had two layers. The lettering was small and they could just make out the words.
Unlikely < OFF > Possibly Uncertain < ON > Probably
Ripped Apart: Quantum Twins – Adventures On Two Worlds Page 2
