by Chris Reher
“I don’t find this the least bit amusing, Elder Brother! How do you know what waits for us on the other side of the next damn keyhole if we ever get there? Could be the next damn galaxy!”
He shrugged. “Maybe a good galaxy. Don’t be negative. It’s depressing.” He pointed a long finger at the com panel beside her.
“What?” she snapped and turned. At that moment, the com system emitted a mild warble. She pounced on it. “Jovan?”
“It’s your father,” came Tychon’s reply. He sounded exhausted after the long jump through sub-space. “But your beau is with me, as are our Shantirs.” There was a slight pause. “You’ll need a bit more speed, Scout.”
“We lost the crossdrives. That’s not the only problem. The people on the asteroid have a weapon. They will fire if we get too close. Our shields are useless against them.”
“We’re coming for you,” Jovan entered the transmission.
“There is no time! Check the cloud’s acceleration.”
“Nigel, is there any way you can kick that engine a bit?”
“Nigel isn’t with us,” Cyann said. “They... they killed him. Anders is very sick. And Kiran says there is nothing he can do with the engines, either.” She swallowed hard. “We’re going to close the keyhole before the asteroid gets there. You have to leave. Go back, please.”
There was a momentary, stunned silence. Finally Tychon spoke. “That’s not going to happen.”
“We’re all right,” she said through gritted teeth. “There is another keyhole. Tughan knows what it’s damn well doing.” She looked to Kiran. Make them go back. Open the keyhole and shove them in there. We can do this without them.
He nodded earnestly. I’ll deal with them. He reached out and tugged on a loose strand of her hair. “Time’s up,” he said.
Clearly, they heard a sharp intake of breath through the speakers. “Kiran?” Tychon said. His voice caught when he said the word.
“Hello, Dadda,” Kiran said. “Time to close the keyhole now. No time for fainting. No time for crying. Khamal time. All hands on deck!” He took Cyann’s hand. “Everyone gather ‘round. Bring in the Shantirs.”
“How will you...” Jovan said but then interrupted himself. “Never mind, don’t say it. Tughan knows what it’s doing. The Shantirs are ready. Tychon’s a little done in from the jump from Trans-Targon but he will join us. Hold on.”
Cyann held Kiran’s hand anxiously, idly wondering what it had taken for Tychon to agree to a khamal with a Shantir other than Jovan. He had not done so for all the years she had known him. Even when he had taken a poisoned dart in the shoulder while working in the wilderness of Phi he had sought out the Union’s doctors for a cure rather than turn to the Shantirs, as any Delphian would.
“Ready,” Jovan said.
Kiran dropped his head in his hand and almost immediately Cyann felt herself lifted upward and out as he took her along, through the vast empty of space, to reach the joined minds of the Delphians that awaited them like a distant signal in the dark.
One by one, the others were touched by the Tughan. She recognized and accepted Tychon’s fatigued but unwavering presence. One of the Shantirs, unknown to her, brought with him some fears that distracted; the other one held firm. She smiled when Jovan met her in what felt like a mental embrace. Minutes passed while their link established and each found their place in this rare conjunction.
All in a row, all in a row, Kiran sent, apparently pleased. Now we wait.
For what? Tychon asked.
That. Kiran reminded them of the asteroid field hurtling toward them at ever-increasing velocity, now catching up to the Scout limping through space. They saw it on their screens as a wall of floating rock and a long scroll of numbers, and they saw it in the Tughan’s mind as preceded by a vast flare of colorful radiation. The energy field began to reach long tongues toward the breach in space that had caught its attention.
Get out of the way! Jovan sent urgently. It’s almost on top of you.
That’s the plan, Shantir. Be still. Help me stay on this. Hold me, hold me.
Help him focus, Cyann translated.
Each of them concentrated on Kiran’s chaotic state of mind, using their abilities to help him calm and align his thoughts and myriad moods. It was noisy and quickly drained their resources, soon requiring the Shantirs to support each other as well.
Cyann stared wordlessly at the asteroid cloud looming impossibly large on the Scout’s main screen as it barreled past. “Hurry!” she said. Did they even have enough time and speed to catch up to the asteroid? Would it simply careen past to leave them drifting helplessly in its wake?
Would Kiran care if it did? She recalled both Tik and Kiran confiding that he found death preferable to remaining on the asteroid, tortured by the unstable energy field and the people who lived there. “Kiran...”
“Shh,” he said. “Hush, little sister. Watch.”
She gripped her armrests when a massive plasma surge whipped toward them. Their sensors went blank and strident alarms sounded from all cockpit components. She had no sense of motion but she understood by the alarmed responses from the others aboard the distant Eagle that the energy Kiran had drawn from the asteroid enveloped them completely. It took a moment before all of them realized that the Tughan had flung the Scout toward the keyhole coordinates just as he had flung Jovan’s pod earlier. She heard Kiran laugh.
“Gods!” Tychon said aloud from the speakers in the ceiling. “You’re here!”
She blinked and looked over the console. “Life support gone but reserves holding. Got about an hour.”
“You have no shields,” Jovan reported. “Can you clear the dock? We’ll lock on to you.”
“Yes, done.” She switched the transmitter off and turned to Kiran. “Why did you do this? We can do it without them. Send them back to Trans-Targon now!”
“We’ll extend the shields once we got them,” they heard Tychon say to Jovan. “Gravity is going to get ugly. Spin us down to—”
Stop!
All of them fell silent, startled.
Quiet. Shut up. Help me and the Cyann, stupid Delphians! Keyhole! Keyhole!
“He’s right,” Cyann said. “Look! Those flares are going to hit you.”
Help the Tughan. Shut up. No more voices! Open the keyhole and go to Nova. Quick!
“What? We’re not leaving you,” Jovan exclaimed.
You won’t. We will close it from there. From the Trans-Targon side. Then everyone is home.
“Is that even possible?”
“Shut up!” Kiran glared at Cyann. Doesn’t anybody just do what they’re told anymore?
“Do it,” Cyann said. “Do as he says.”
The Shantirs resumed their khamal with Kiran, all of them rattled and slow to return their legendary Delphian focus to the Tughan. Cyann felt a heavy thump against the Scout’s side when Tychon carefully maneuvered the Eagle into its lock.
Shields ready, he sent but all of them felt the uncertainty in his statement. Going negative. He began to feed the Eagle’s energy into the keyhole, gradually forming the aperture that would allow entrance into sub-space. It responded readily but so, to their dismay, did the asteroid. All of them clearly shared a vision of the towering wall of rubble bearing down on their flea-size bit of technology.
Too fast, Kiran exclaimed. GoGoGoGo now!
Not ready, Tychon replied. Give me time. The exit isn’t—
No! Go now! The Tughan shifted his focus to take control of the joined ships and punched forward, into the breach.
“Too late!” Cyann shouted. “It’s here. It’s going in with us!”
Collapse it, Kiran said, mostly to himself. Close it now.
“With us in it?” Jovan gasped. “Are you—”
They were inside. The total nothing inside the breach removed all sensation and any connection they had to any real dimension. No sound, nothing to touch, nothing to see. Only their minds remained joined, terrified and unable to comprehend so
mething none of them had experienced before. Milliseconds passed like hours. Cyann felt a scream but not certain whose. It might have been her own.
Closed there, Kiran shouted into their minds. Closed it. Closed it! Cloud’s left behind. Now we run. Or get crushed. Crush is a funny word. Desperate to keep the sub-space breach open long enough for them to escape at its terminus, the Tughan held them in a grip that threatened to push their sanity to its breaking point. Something, somewhere, suddenly went missing and when Kiran roared in anguish she knew that one of the Shantirs had become the Tughan’s latest acquisition.
Don’t stop now, she sent. It’s all right. Not your fault. Keep going!
They were free. The Scout careened from the keyhole, hampered by the smaller Eagle, and lurched into real-space at a dangerous velocity. Alarm systems screamed. What lights still worked flashed their warnings. Cyann realized, after a moment, that she was still alive. Their khamal had severed. A few of the indicators calmed when Tychon steadied the ships and brought them to a halt.
“Kiran?” She sat up. “Kiran!”
He lay limply on the other bench, eyes shut. She bent over him, her face close to his and her hands on his bony chest, feeling for signs of life. “Kiran! We’re home. Please wake up!” A jump of this depth, even under normal conditions, took a tremendous toll on any navigator. But what she had witnessed was beyond what should even be possible. What unfathomable mental power had kept the collapsing sub-space breach open for even the few seconds it took to span it? Tychon had not had time to program their terminus. Had they even exited in the correct place?
“Is anybody there?” she said to the ceiling. “Anybody?”
“We’re here!” Jovan’s voice reached her, jubilant. “We made it, Cy! We’re out! Nova’s coming for us.”
“Kiran’s not waking up! Help me!”
Moments later she heard the door to the Scout’s air lock opened by someone not one bit concerned about decontamination protocols. Long strides thundered down the main corridor and then Tychon entered the cockpit. He scooped Cyann up and held her briefly before releasing her to lean over Kiran. Carefully, he gathered the thin body into his arms and turned to lower both of them to the floor.
“Kiran,” he said gently. “You’re back.” He stroked the lank hair from his son’s face. “Don’t you leave again,” he whispered. “We’re taking you home. You’re safe.”
Kiran opened his colorless eyes which, after a few unfocused moments, found Tychon. “Dadda,” he smiled. His chest lifted in rapid and shallow breaths. “Can’t go home. Just going to sleep now.”
“Don’t leave,” Tychon pleaded. “Stay with us. Please.” He held Kiran closely, his face hidden from Cyann.
Jovan rushed into the room and dropped to his knees beside Tychon and Kiran. “Let me help him, Tychon,” he said gently. “Let him go.”
Gradually, grudgingly, Tychon loosened his hold on Kiran but when Jovan reached for him, Kiran waved him away. “Don’t touch me, Shantir. I will kill you, too,” he rasped. His eyes shifted to Cyann. “The Tughan isn’t coming home. They made me too dangerous, you know that. They knew that. I can’t stay.”
Cyann crouched beside Jovan and took Kiran’s hand. “I don’t believe that.” She brushed her fingers over his cheek. “I think you forgot the other part of the story. The Tughan was designed to protect Delphi, wasn’t he? You’ve done that. You’ve saved Delphi. And everybody else. That cloud would have destroyed us all. Without the Jur on there, you might never have known in time. We would not even have had any warning.”
He frowned as he considered her words.
“Let us help you now. Let the Tughan rest. But let my brother come home. We need Kiran. Tychon needs Kiran.”
Kiran’s eyes moved to Tychon and then to Jovan.
Jovan raised his hands and, when Kiran said nothing more, dared to touch the Tughan’s forehead. He stifled a groan and closed his eyes, looking for whatever it was that allowed the Shantir to reach into an injured mind. His lips moved but words did not appear.
Cyann allowed tears, finally, to stream freely over her face as she watched Tychon hold his son in the bend of his arm like the boy he had once been, both hope and dread clear on the Delphian’s face. She moved around Kiran’s sprawled limbs to sit next to her father on the floor, grateful when he pulled her close with his free arm. They waited.
Numberless moments ticked by before Jovan nodded. “I think I got him back,” he said, his voice a whisper. Kiran still hung limply in Tychon’s arm but his breathing was deeper now. Jovan glanced at Cyann, as aware as she that what he got back would not be what Tychon had lost so many years ago. “He needs to rest.” He sank back and scrubbed his face tiredly before squinting at Cyann. “You blew up the Jur guides?” he said. “All of them?”
Tychon lifted Kiran from the ground. “I’ll take him into Anders’ cabin. I’ll stay with him.” He stopped briefly at the cockpit door without turning. “Thank you, both, for bringing my son home.”
Cyann and Jovan struggled to their feet. She had no memory of ever feeling as tired and exhausted. “Can you check on Anders? I’ll let the Repha Zi know that we’re probably contaminated. We need a decon tunnel to the clean room and get Anders and Kiran out of here before we run out of air. That gravity is going to be hard on them. Oh, and Tik. Need to check on her!”
Jovan stopped her from rushing out the door and pulled her into his arms. “She’ll be fine. Take a moment. Let the others do their job now. It’s over.” He kissed her damp face. “You are an extraordinary woman.”
She smiled. “I’m a Cyann.”
Chapter 12 – Epilogue
The last time Cyann had been permitted into this space seemed like eons ago. No less magnificent, the undisturbed blanket of snow had been replaced by expanses of low growth covered in tiny dots of yellow flowers. Allowed to grow naturally, it resembled waves of green moving in the breeze. Curling wands of night fern edged flagstone pathways shaded by the fronds of purple sentinel palms undulating over their heads.
Jovan walked beside her, respectfully garbed in his Shantir’s robe. He, too, took a moment to admire the pleasing arrangements of verdant growth, stone and wood all around them. Both of them slowed their steps when they passed a basin of water on which floated large, colorful leaves. She glanced around and quickly nipped off a seed pod from one of the spent flowers among them.
He laughed. “We used to sneak out here when I was a boy to pilfer these.” He bent to take one for himself. “I think all of the novices dare each other at least once. Of course, these days I’m allowed.” He tasted the sweet treat. “Although I think they taste better when you steal them.”
They continued onward through a blooming arbor to a shaded rest stop in the gardens of the Shantir enclave. A few benches were placed here and Cyann’s steps quickened when she saw that one of the people waiting for them was her brother.
Seeing that Kiran was about to get up, she rushed to sit beside him before embracing him carefully. “I’m so happy to see you out here!” she said.
Jovan also took a seat but remembered to greet his elders. “Shan Moghen,” he said to his mentor. “Shan Regin, thank you for allowing us to visit today.”
Cyann blushed. “Yes, thank you.” She turned to Kiran. “Thank you for letting us come see you.”
He nodded. “I’m glad you came. I was not well, earlier.”
She hooked her arm around his, pleased to note that some of the wasted muscle was restoring itself and his emaciated frame had begun to fill out. When they had arrived on Delphi he had spent weeks in reduced gravity with Shantir healers who worked with him to repair his body and begin to repair his mind. Moghen himself had been the first to dare to touch the Tughan via khamal, setting an example for the Shantirs selected to help Kiran restore some order to his tormented brain.
Kiran had responded well, eager to escape the pain and, once free of the effects of the asteroid that had held him captive, able to reach out to the healers. Through
this, Tychon had remained at the enclave and rarely left his side. Cyann suspected that Tychon had finally made some sort of peace with the Shantirs but did not trust them entirely with his fragile firstborn. Finally, Kiran had sent word that he wanted to see Cyann and so she and Jovan immediately returned to Delphi.
“You look so well now!” she said. He was no longer as pale as he had been and his hair was neatly braided. More importantly, the glassy stare of his eyes had been replaced by a deep Delphian blue and his voice had lost that rapid cadence of his rants. He had chosen to wear the simple robe of the novices but his feet were still bare.
“I’m getting better,” he said. “And stronger. I don’t have to rest as much.”
She reached up and stroked his forehead. “And in there? How are you feeling?”
He smiled and nodded toward Moghen. “I am in good hands. Things are quieter now and I can speak my own words. At least that’s what it feels like. What I mean to say is actually what leaves my lips. Most of the time.”
Cyann tried to peer through Moghen and Regin’s non-committal expressions. “And... I mean... Are you still the Tughan?”
“Very much so,” Moghen answered for Kiran. “But we hope that Shan Kiran will be able to take control of it.”
Jovan raised an eyebrow. “He could lose it again. I can’t help thinking that this could get very dangerous.”
“It already is. Kiran is here because he wants to be here. Certainly, none of us have the means to stop him if he decides to leave, in case you’re wondering why he’s not locked up in chains somewhere.”
Jovan grinned. “Yes, I supposed I was.”
“For now, we join with him to subdue some of the processes, to help him slow down and determine priority functions. Some of us are constantly linked to him.” He acknowledged Cyann with a small movement of his hand when she looked up, concerned. “So is his wish, don’t worry. He is not captive, with or without chains. He has the ability to break our khamal as he wishes.”
“But he doesn’t,” Kiran said. “This is as it must be right now. Maybe I’ll never be able to leave here.”
