Ripped Apart: Quantum Twins – Adventures On Two Worlds

by Geoffrey Arnold

  ‘I used a meson and its paired anti-meson. The up or down quark is in the compiler, the down or up anti-quark is here, in what I call the locator. The screen will show where they are on a scalable map.’

  When all that appeared on the screen was a fuzzy blur, and no map, Mandara ran a diagnostic. He turned to face the others with a strained look on his face. ‘Both anti-quarks have gone. They must have paired with the quarks.’

  ‘How’s that possible?’ Mizena asked.

  ‘Something must have interfered with their interaction separators,’ he replied, his mind already sorting through possibilities.

  Lellia took her great niece’s hand in hers. ‘There are other ways of checking on the twins and making sure they’re alright,’ she said in a gentle tone of voice. ‘The men can deal with the mechanical side of quantum physics. We’ll go and explore in a different way.’

  When Mizena had married Shandur, in true Tazian tradition they had been taken fully into each other’s families. In the eyes of Mandara and Lellia, Mizena had become their great niece, just as much as Shandur was Mandara’s great nephew by birth.

  With heavy hearts, Lellia and Mizena left Mandara’s study, walked down the stairs and crossed over to Lellia’s personal wing on the opposite side of Lungunu. Walking side by side up the stairs, the thick, woodland green carpet muffled the sounds of their feet and all was silent. The soft colourscopes on the walls helped them relax and discuss how to proceed.

  Reaching the top of the staircase they walked along the corridor and entered what Lellia called her Homely Room where they changed into GeleleSilk robes of midnight blue. The silk had been mistakenly named after the Gelele tree before it was discovered that the fine threads that appeared on a hot sunny day in the spring were the result of the rainbow-coloured Wenkosi butterflies dropping from their cocoons before taking flight.

  Lellia led her niece out of the room and further along the corridor to a very special room at the end. The door was Night, and in the Night stood a beautiful Isuna wearing robes that were both so black and diaphanous that she hardly seemed to be there at all. Did they sparkle with starlight, or were the stars behind her? Mizena could not tell. In her hands the Isuna held a Moon. As the two women neared the door, the Isuna smiled and the door opened.

  Mizena stopped with amazement. She had never seen the door before. Her mind told her she was looking at an ordinary door with a painting on it. Her eyes and all her other senses told her it really was a woman holding a Moon standing somewhere in the middle of Night.

  As the door closed behind them Mizena saw six walls forming the hexagonal shape of a cell in a honeycomb. She smiled at the impression that she was entering a hive of her beloved bees, how important they were to life on both planets, and hoped that some Azurii still followed the Path of Pollen. Bathed in soft light from the alcoves that were set at different heights in each wall, the golden colour slowly turned to black, different shades of black. As Lellia led her niece to the centre, Mizena felt as though she was walking through a field of black grass.

  The centre of the room was a large, sunken circle. In the centre of that circle was a low, round table, on it a dome of the blackest black, so black that as Mizena tried to focus on it, it seemed to disappear. Large cushions were set all around the table. Whilst Lellia was used to sitting in the lotus position she knew that would not be comfortable for her niece. She sent a thought to the floor. Behind one of the cushions a curved segment of it rose up to form a comfortable chair. They settled themselves comfortably, opposite each other.

  ‘Let’s begin with Tullia,’ Lellia said softly, leant forward and removed what Mizena then saw was the cover over a round ball of pure, clear crystal. The ball had been handed down through generations of Seekers, always female, always members of the family. Sianarrah would serve only as long as she wanted to, but always faithfully, of that there never was any doubt.

  The two women looked into the crystal ball, holding in their centres their love for the twins.

  A soft mist appeared, swirling slowly. After a while it seemed as though there was a faint hint of lilac in the centre. The mist thickened and Lellia sent gentle, calming energy to her niece. As the mist thinned, they saw a small cloud of lilac being swept along, all round the globe. Lellia leant forward stretching out her hands. Her niece took them and they merged their energies. The swirling calmed and the lilac contracted and deepened until it was a clear purple, gently pulsing. Mizena gave a soft sigh as her daughter’s favourite colour established itself as the messenger of her well-being.

  Suddenly it was ripped apart as a series of colours mushroomed out. Mizena gasped with dismay as shades of grey and slashes of black intermingled. Then gasped again as streaks of vermilion shot through, followed by brilliant flashes like bolts of lightning.

  She wanted to pull away and cover her eyes, but felt her aunt gripping her hands tightly, maintaining the connection.

  A small spot in the centre grew into a mouth with gnashing teeth. It filled the whole crystal. The tiny patch of purple was in the centre of it. The mouth shrank. The ball filled with swirling grey mist as the mouth twisted and turned, chasing the tiny speck of purple.

  A thin brown spiral unfolded around the outer edges of the crystal. Rapidly it grew in size, changing colour to a rich dark red, glowing with streaks of emerald green and sun-kissed yellow, bright violet sparkling from its wingtips. It stretched wide its jaws, a tongue flickered and the mouth was swallowed. The dragon grinned, then disappeared, leaving a tall, thin streak of vibrating purple in the centre of the swirling mist that slowly faded away, leaving the ball empty.

  As they left the Seliya Chamber, Mizena thoughtsent Cook. The two women had scarcely settled themselves comfortably in the Homely Room before a big pot of Cook’s Special Restorative Chay arrived.

  They were half way through their second cup when Mizena saw her aunt’s eyes return to focus and the grim look leave her face.

  ‘Well?’ Mizena asked.

  ‘From the size and depth of colour of the purple column, she must be well.’ Her aunt heaved a sigh. ‘But I am sure she is not on Vertazia.’

  Mizena choked back a sob. ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘The lightning bolts and the mouth. They did not have Tazian energy signatures. I have only rarely seen that energy before. They are what we call the Dark Denizenii. But the dragon. That was a much older energy and protecting Tullia.’

  ‘But, the Dark Denizenii, they don’t really exist?’ Mizena queried.

  ‘It’s all the repression of our era,’ Lellia replied. ‘We have come so far from our Aurigan days that negative energies such as fear and hate have become powerful archetypes that not only influence people but can even be used between dimensions.’

  ‘It was all so confusing. No image of Tullia or even her whereabouts. It was almost as though Sianarrah could not get a good focus?’ Mizena asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Lellia agreed. ‘There was an unsettled energy with her I’ve not experienced before. She usually knows where we are working. This time all I got from her was that we were both near and far, and what we were seeing was happening now. Yet she didn’t know when ‘now’ was!’ Lellia shook her head, clearly perplexed. She held up a hand to forestall any questions. ‘Remember the strength of that purple. She is alive, well, vibrant. And protected.’

  Mizena nodded. ‘Through the male line Qwelby has the genetic inheritance of the Hero of olden days we only know by the name of his dragon: Zhólérrân. Do you think?’

  ‘Possible. I suppose.’

  ‘The dragon grinned. Not smiled. Grinned. It’s just how Qwelby looks when he’s got one up on Tullia. She smirks. Sometimes they are different,’ Mizena said as she smiled faintly, feeling the first touches of hope. If they were alive and well, anything was possible.

  ‘Do you feel strong enough to search for Qwelby?’ her aunt queried.

  ‘Yes. We know Tullia is alive and well. I must know that Qwelby is.’ Tears trickled from the corne
rs of her eyes.

  They returned to the Seliya Chamber and settled into their meditation. As they did so, the crystal ball filled with swirling mist.

  They waited.

  The mist continued to swirl.

  Both women felt their energy being drained into the crystal.

  ‘No, Sianarrah. No!’ Lellia cried out, reaching for the cover and dropping it over the crystal.

  Mizena looked at her aunt dumbfounded. ‘What? Sianarrah cannot find him?’

  Lellia looked troubled. ‘I don’t understand. She has never tried to draw that amount of energy from me before. But then, this is the first occasion I’ve used her to scry for people.’ She gave her niece a sympathetic look as she got up. ‘I’m sorry, no more scrying now, you look drained and I know I can do no more today.’

  ‘No sense of Qwelby?’ Mizena asked.

  ‘Siahranah must have sensed his energy somewhere…to want to draw so much power from me.’ Lellia decided not to add “somewhen,” her niece had enough to worry about.

  They returned to Lellia’s Homely Room. Checking with House, they discovered that their husbands were still working. Feeling in need of comfort, they descended to the kitchen where Cook started to prepare meals for everyone.

  *

  Earlier, Lift had deposited the two husbands at the door to Mandara’s communications room. They entered and sat side by side at a massive, U-shaped work area.

  Hours passed as they worked feverishly, trying idea after idea, testing and rechecking the equipment. Finally, defeated, they slumped in their chairs, staring at each other vacantly. They had tried everything they could think of to get a signal to either of the twin’s communicators. They might have succeeded. They didn’t know, because the other half of the problem was getting a signal back. They had even tried devices similar to Azuran radar and sonar, all to no avail.

  When Mandara explained exactly how he had managed to persuade the two mesons to co-operate, the two scientists agreed. The anti-quarks would never have rejoined their quarks unless they sensed permanent dislocation. Neither the mesons, the compilers nor the twins were any longer anywhere in the fifth or seventh dimensions.

  They did not need to speak or thoughtshare. There were only two possibilities.

  ‘House,’ Mandara asked. ‘Correlate the time of when you last were able to monitor the twins’ presence with the shockwave.’ He knew the answer. When he had first heard it hours ago, it was not what he wanted, now it was the only remaining alternative to the termination of their lifelines.

  ‘A gap of thirty seven minits and nineteen sekonds.’

  Mandara thought. What question did he need to ask?

  ‘House. Correlate loss of monitoring with any other potentially relevant event.’

  ‘I recorded what appeared to be a faint echo of what I deduce to have been a Spatio-Temporal discontinuity at that precise moment in that part of Lungunu that lies outside my frame of reference.’

  Mandara grimaced. When he had first questioned House he should have asked for a complete physical presentation of all records it considered relevant. After all, it was a semisentient.

  Shandur looked at his uncle sympathetically. ‘I didn’t want my thoughts to go there until, well… there was no alternative.’

  There was silence as the men considered the possibility of what might have happened.

  ‘Uncle, we’re drained and I certainly am hungry. I don’t suppose you noticed your wife’s thought about eating: in the Garden Room?’

  Mandara shook his head.

  ‘Lets join our wives. They may have had more success than us.’

  Some seasons ago, Garden had decided to turn a section at the back of the rear wing of House into a room, and had carefully grown various plants into the right shapes to provide things that could be used as tables and chairs. House had added energy fields for walls and a ceiling. Garden was still working on how to replace those fields with translucent plants.

  As the men reached the Garden Room, Mizena got up, ran to her husband and threw her arms around him.

  ‘Tullia is alive and well. But we don’t know where she is. And we, I, think Qwelby is, but…’ she wailed as she burst into tears.

  Clear blue sky, with the sun close to setting, throwing long shadows. House resealed the energy fields and added warmth to the air as everyone found somewhere to sit and Lellia briefly repeated what she and Mizena had experienced.

  ‘You’ve had more success than we did.’ Shandur said sadly, hugging his wife to him, as much for his comfort as hers.

  ‘They are not in the fifth or seventh dimensions. There is no way any Tazian can elevate to the eighth at present, not even Quantum Twins,’ Mandara explained.

  He turned to look at his wife. ‘The third, but hopefully the fourth dimensions are a possibility. We need to explore the Accelerator room.’ He shrugged apologetically at his nephew and niece, they both knew that there were areas of Lungunu that were only accessible to people who had lived in the building and worked with its energies for a great many years.

  ‘Yes,’ Lellia agreed. ‘Right now, we all need to rest and restore our energies. Cook. We’re ready for our meals, in the Garden Room please.’

  CHAPTER 11

  Friends Gather

  Shandur and Mizena were getting ready to return to Lungunu to continue searching for their children when the CommViewer chimed. Mizena sighed. It was the twins’ group of four best friends. This was a moment she had feared, but she had not expected it to come so soon. She knew that she could not conceal the amount of worry in her auras.

  Taking a deep breath she said: ‘Welcome.’

  The swirly cloud in the viewer slowly cleared and four faces bearing puzzled looks appeared.

  Tamina spoke first. Three months short of her seventeenth rebirthday she was entering the most powerful trimester of her phase of creativity. In a nervous voice she said: ‘We haven’t had any contact with either of the twins for almost a whole day.’

  ‘We’ve lost contact with them,’ Mizena said baldly.

  Tamina tilted her head to one side. ‘Mngnh?!’

  Mizena’s shoulders shrugged. ‘We don’t know exactly where they are.’

  ‘They’re not… on Vertazia?’ Tamina asked. Given the hive-like mental linking across all Tazii, for their parents to have lost all mental contact with the twins was impossible – if they were anywhere on Vertazia. Had their lifelines been terminated, their parents would have felt the shockwave, as would Pelnak and particularly Tamina and Wrenden through their special relationships.

  ‘We’ve lost them!’ The words were out of Mizena’s mouth before she could stop them.

  ‘Uh-huh,’ Tamina murmured, glancing around her brother and friends.

  ‘How could you know?’ Mizena asked weakly.

  ‘Ever since I have been able to MentaSynch with them,’ Tamina explained. ‘even if they didn’t want to be contacted, I’ve always been able to sense them. Now it’s different. And Qwelby’s not there at all.’

  ‘What can we do to help?’ asked Tamina’s younger brother Wrenden. Forever asking ‘why not?’ when he was young had earned him the nickname of Yknot, which they pronounced “Why not” and which his sister had later shortened to Eeky. A little short of his fourteenth rebirthday, he was the only one of the four friends not to have a crystal for his EraBand: a torc or necklace given to every youngster on the occasion of their twelfth rebirthday.

  Mizena sighed. ‘Switch to TransWeave, transport mode and come on through,’ she said. She wanted this sorted quickly and was content to use the family’s energy credits for the short journey rather than wait whilst the youngsters made other arrangements.

  *

  Tamina stepped through gracefully. Almost two metres tall, her height was accentuated by her slim Form. With her heavily slanted eyes, slim nose and generous mouth, for many years her young brother had expected to discover that she was not really his bossy sister but a domineering alien in a Tazian body. Her rich cof
fee-cream skin with a coppery tinge was matched by auburn hair, its naturally golden highlighted wavelets so long she could sit on it.

  She was followed by Wrenden. Like his sister he was slim and, at one metre eighty, also tall for his age. Skin like his sister’s but with dark brown wavy hair, the top cut ‘en brosse’.

  Pelnak and Shimara arrived together, stumbled, and only just managed to stop each other falling over. Although a few months older than the twins, the boy and girl were markedly shorter than them, rounder in build with a stronger red cast to their skin.

  Their mothers were twins. Submitting to an imperative that they only vaguely understood, they had insisted on bringing forth the new lives together, in the same Incarnation Reception Suite. The two babies had been born at exactly the same moment. They were inseparable and acted more like twins than did Qwelby and Tullia. In that they were helped by the fashion amongst youngsters for unisex clothing and the identical, pageboy styles each had chosen for their red hair. They were often referred to as the ‘not-twins’, and sometimes called Pelnmara.

  Aware of the mental communication, Shandur arrived in the kitchen and thoughtshared with his wife. She agreed.

  ‘Mizena will check with Uncle Mandara. Whilst she does that, I will get the Omnitor out.’

  ‘????’

  ‘With what happened yesterday, it’s not safe to transweave to Lungunu at present.’

  Made up from six twistors representing the five basic directions and one that doesn’t, it lived all by itself in a green, space–time–consciousness continuum, called gesticc for short. The Omnitor didn’t have a name. Every time someone tried to give it one, the Omnitor handed it straight back. It was just called Ing. If anyone suggested that Ing was short for ‘inanimate thing’, it disappeared in a microsecond. Even in the quantum world, trying to winkle an Omnitor out of a microsecond was almost impossible.

  *

  Shandur’s call brought Ing to the door. It had a soft spot for the youngsters. Even when they were squabbling they were always polite, often thoughtsending capital letters with their ‘Tamuchlies.’ Picking up the feelings of worry, sadness and concern, Ing decided they needed cheering up. It arrived looking like a cluster of six, four dimensional stars gathered around a fifth, bright in a mixture of fluorescent colours. As each person entered a different star they found themselves seated inside the central one.