‘Lord Horus,’ we said in unison. We liked doing that.
We took our seats and waited for the late-comers to arrive. The last was of course Bastet. Being a cat-goddess made her ever capricious: fickle and bending to no one’s law but her own. If she had not been the last Osiran to enter, she would have been annoyed and might have taken herself to the back of the seating to sulk.
As it was she came to sit beside us in the front pew, moving with that sinewy grace she had, dressed very tightly in black and gold with the face of a lioness. There was no doubting her poise and beauty, but she was not at all interested in Horus. She preferred Anubis. This of course only served to make Horus want her more. Hathor and I greeted her with broad smiles that faded as she looked away.
‘We gather,’ Horus intoned.
Everyone sat up. This was the common call for attention and even Bastet seemed alert.
‘The Eye is complete!’ Horus announced.
A procession of servitors entered behind Horus. Our robots might seem odd to alien eyes. They do not appear mechanical at all. For they were not machines. They were controlled by cytronics – a type of psychic projection – that allowed them to be constructed as a simple wire frame emulating a humanoid shape. This was covered in bindings that were chemically impregnated to protect them against damage and decay. When new, these straps of cloth were the purest white – dazzling even. Over time, though, they become distressed and took on a creamier appearance.
These particular robots all bore a diagonal golden cross of silk on their chest that marked them as the servants of Horus. The first batch numbered nine, and four further servitors followed. These ones wore gold bindings from head to toe, something we had never seen before and which drew murmurs from the crowd. Horus was nothing if not the showman.
Between them, the four golden robots carried a giant red gem, totally smooth and gently pulsing as if it had a heartbeat. This was the instrument Horus had been constructing to carry out his will to hold Sutekh without destroying him. Personally, I would have liked to see the jackal-headed monster thrown in a decadron crucible and obliterated. But it was not to be, so I stamped my feet along with Horus’s other adoring subjects.
The four special servitors reached a point towards the apex of the triangular floor and stopped. A segment of the floor vanished and was replaced by a golden stand that looked like a tree or flower. At the top was an indentation. Now Horus moved forward. He plucked the large gem from its transport and placed it on the tree so that it fitted snugly into the cavity.
‘All is prepared,’ shouted Horus. ‘For my brother is at our mercy!’
Above our heads, the ceiling seemed to fall away like a waterfall, and a canopy of stars replaced it. At the centre of this was Zuliter, the many hues of blue cloud swirling around its almost tar-sized surface. Somewhere up there was Sutekh. Hiding. Or, more likely, preparing …
Horus turned back to the Eye and made a sign with his hands. The pulse quickened now until the oversized jewel glowed a constant bright crimson. Just as I had suspected, things went wrong then. The gemstone faltered and a huge shadow fell upon us, cast from the sky above. We all looked up and saw a terrible sight. We could not make out its form because it just appeared as a colossal area of blackness between Zuliter and us. Size did not usually afflict an Osiran with fear, but we could all feel it in our core that the figure was not a natural being.
You shall not pass, it said and its voice felt like semi-frozen acid poured directly into our minds.
‘I am Horus,’ our noble leader growled. ‘Who are you to deny me passage?’
We are the Sivin, it replied. We are the singularity.
This brought an exchange of looks between Hathor and me. Several others were also signalling their lack of understanding at this apparent oxymoron. Then I recalled that Sutekh’s previous refuge had been a world that engineered such temporal-spatial events. I stood and said as much to Horus.
‘That type of singularity?’ he asked, agog. ‘Conscious?’
‘That is what those people did,’ I said, walking towards him. I let a hand trail over one of his service robots. It did not move, but Horus started at me with inscrutable, falcon’s eyes.
We are aware, the Sivin said. We know you. All of you.
‘What is your purpose?’ Bastet asked. She, too, had left her comfortable seat and was striding across the polished floor to join us beside the Eye.
We protect the master. Sutekh is supreme.
Horus made a sign with his hands and the ceiling re-formed, blocking the Sivin from view.
‘If it is an event in space-time, we can surely bypass it,’ Horus said. ‘We have the lodestone technology. A time-corridor would take us back to a point before it existed. We could simply wait for Sutekh.’
The huge congregation of Osirans began speaking all at once, some stamping their feet in approval of Horus’s plan. Some of them lacked the intellect to formulate their own opinions. I ignored the hubbub and summoned a sarcophagus with my mind.
Two of my servitors now entered. Their bindings were not as white as they might be but they bore the cobalt cross on their chests that told the assembled deities that whatever was about to take place was due to my actions. It was a mistake I would regret until the moment I died. Fortunately, I would not have to wait long.
The ornately carved sarcophagus was duly set up and a lodestone was brought forward. My service robot placed it in the side of the casket and activated the requisite cartouche on the casing. Immediately a colourful tunnel leading into the time vortex appeared.
Horus stepped forward. Naturally, he meant to lead the way; he meant to steal my glory. That was when there was a feedback explosion from the sarcophagus. It threw Horus, Bastet and me across the floor and left my robot missing its head and torso. The time winds had scarred us, but we would heal. What was more damaged was our pride. Before Horus could rise to his feet, the ceiling was ripped apart and the dark form of the Sivin loomed over us once more.
We told you. You shall not pass.
Horus now rose. His falcon beak was actually smiling. ‘What would you have of us?’ he asked. ‘We can offer you much.’
At that moment, the Sivin revealed its true form to us. At least, a form that it wanted to project. It was now humanoid in shape with wings on its back and cat-like features to its face. If anything, it resembled a hybrid of formidable panther and mighty eagle. And then, it yawned as if bored by our existence.
Horus bristled, his feathers separating on his head. Bastet was walking in circles, staring up at the creature that so closely resembled her.
We tire of your efforts to deter us, the Sivin said. But you may amuse my master by solving a conundrum.
Horus smiled. ‘A riddle?’ he asked. ‘You truly are the creation of my brother, for there is nothing we like better.’
I smiled too, although I was thinking that I would prefer the head of Sutekh as my plaything.
Very well.
‘Wait!’ Horus held his arms up to the singularity. ‘What will our reward be for delivering you a solution?’
The Great Sutekh will allow you to pass.
I looked across at my sister who was leaning back, examining her nails. She did not care for politics and hated this manner of posturing and power play. I smiled at her and she rolled her eyes at me as if to say: Play your games; I am over here if you need me.
‘In so far as we can ever trust the word of Sutekh, we accept the terms,’ Horus said haughtily.
He did not really have a choice but he made it sound as if we were in control, which was all that mattered.
The answer must not only be given as a verbal response, the Sivin announced. We also require a physical manifestation of the solution.
Horus nodded. ‘So if the key is an old man, an old man must be produced; if it is a river, we must bring you a river.’
That is so. If you deliver an incorrect answer, the offer shall not be made again.
‘We understand.’
There are two sisters: one gives birth to the other and she, in turn, gives birth to the first.
Sisters. I looked back at Hathor. She was interested now, staring at me in return. Her expression was one of concern and I had not the slightest idea why.
You have the time it takes the planet to make one revolution on its axis, the Sivin said and it waved a mighty paw across the sky, reinstating the ceiling of our ship.
Horus silenced the legions of Osirans that started speaking all at once and despatched them in small groups that could debate the meaning of the enigma more easily. He kept Bastet and me to hand, and I insisted that Hathor join us.
‘It is a stand-off,’ Horus said. ‘No matter what happens, Sutekh cannot leave. We will out wait eternity if needs be.’
‘Your brother has more guile and cunning than all of us,’ Hathor said. ‘This puzzle of his will have consequences and if we are allowed to pass by this Sivin thing then it will be to his advantage somehow.’
Bastet agreed but said that we needed to solve the puzzle first. It was a statement of ludicrous obviousness. However, it did serve to bring our focus back to the task at hand.
We began by separating the riddle out into its constituent elements. The use of the word ‘sisters’ meant that there would be two aspects or parts to the answers that the Sivin would require of us. The ‘giving birth’ part was the thing that vexed us the most. We argued over whether the statement was literal or not. While Hathor and I were convinced it was allegorical – as, we thought, was the entire thing – Bastet wondered if we were meant to think that. I voiced the opinion that a singularity might lack the experience to employ a double bluff. Horus snapped that it was not the singularity we were dealing with, but Sutekh.
We sat in different parts of the chamber, each on a different row. Riddles were the primary entertainment in Osiran culture. Well, certainly the more intellectual one. We also loved dancing. I moved across to Hathor and whispered that of the two, it would have been amusing if Sutekh had chosen dance as his method rather than enigmas. She laughed a little too loudly and drew irritated glares from the other two. But I laughed with her. We were like that: sisters against the cosmos.
That is when it hit me.
The solution actually came in waves: first the answer itself and then the implications. My sister saw the change in expression on my face.
‘What is it, Khonsu?’ she reached out and took my hand. I looked up at her. She could read me very well and knew that I had bad news to impart. She pulled me close and embraced me. ‘What?’ she whispered. ‘Tell me.’
‘It is us,’ I said, my voice a grating whisper.
Hathor pulled away and frowned at me. ‘What are you talking about?’
Bastet heard us and came over, Horus plodding along behind. They could see in my eyes that I had an answer and that it tasted bitter to me.
‘The answer is us,’ I said, putting a hand on my sister’s shoulder. ‘Day.’ And then I pointed to myself. ‘Night.’
Horus was stony-faced. ‘One gives birth to the other …’ he said.
Bastet looked own. ‘And she, in turn, gives birth to the first.’
Now my sister saw it. She was a goddess of the sun, I of the moon. We were sisters, representatives of the day and the night. Her head slumped and her shoulders fell.
Horus shook his head. ‘It makes no sense,’ he said angrily. ‘Why ask for your deaths? How is that going to stop us bringing him to justice?’
I cocked my head. That was true.
‘That’s the obvious part,’ my sister said quietly. She was still looking down, her hands slowly wringing each other in her lap. ‘He wants time to escape.’
We all looked at her.
‘Of course,’ Horus said, almost marvelling.
‘We could have given him that easily,’ Bastet said. ‘There was no need for …’ She trailed off, unable to bring herself to say it.
‘This is Sutekh, remember?’ I said.
Bastet looked at me. ‘And his gift of death must follow him wherever he treads.’
Horus asked if we wanted to be left alone, but I did not want to creep off into some private chamber with my sister to wallow in what was about to happen. Of course, I wanted to see her privately, but to scuttle off now seemed too pathetic.
So we stayed and together we worked out exactly what must happen when we confronted the Sivin. First, the creature would need to see us die. Then Horus would give an order that could not be countermanded, telling the ship to put all the Osirans and itself into suspended animation for the duration of one Zuliter day.
The Osirans were gathered again, and Hathor and I stood before our brothers and sisters, willing to make the ultimate sacrifice.
‘Promise me this will be the last,’ I said to Horus so no one else could hear. ‘Promise me that you will use the Eye as soon as you find him. No “my brother deserves a trial” or any nonsense like that.’ I knew Horus and knew that was going through his mind.
He nodded. ‘I swear it,’ he said and put his hands on my shoulder. ‘Your sacrifice will not be in vain. My brother’s crimes will find their punishment. He will be made to suffer.’ He sounded so calm that I could tell he was on the verge of exploding. ‘The evil Osiran has ensured he will have time to flee, but we both know this is but a short stay of sentence.’
We demanded that there be no ceremony, no speeches. Horus was not to use this event to grandstand. We just wanted it to be fast and with no suffering – much as anyone does about their own death. To this end a large decadron crucible had been placed in the centre of the triangular floor, just beyond where the Eye stood ready.
Horus opened the ceiling to the stars and called to Sivin. But the creature was already there.
What is your answer?
‘Day and night,’ Horus called. He made no attempt to disguise the anger and hate in his voice. ‘To which end our sisters Hathor and Khonsu offer themselves to death.’
Is this the totality of your solution?
‘No. We further swear to place the Osiran host in suspended animation for one day.’
The huge panther-like being flapped its wings.
You speak the correct response, it said.
Horus lifted his arm to give the signal to the servitor that stood beside the crucible that would obliterate my sister and me. Hathor reached out and took my hand. I looked at her and tried to smile, She just nodded.
‘I know,’ she said.
Hold.
Everyone looked up at the Sivin.
The solution may be interpreted in contrasting conclusions.
‘What do you mean?’ Horus asked. ‘Is our answer incorrect?’
We would have the goddesses Hathor and Khonsu join us, the Sivin said.
I looked at Hathor. She mouthed the word ‘join’ to me, a spark of hope in her eyes.
We asked for a physical manifestation. They should not die. We shall link with them …
In the blink of an eye, the Sivin was standing on the floor of the chamber. He looked about at the astounded Osirans and walked towards the crucible. He crackled with some form of extraordinary energy as he moved. He waved a paw and the mechanism of our destruction vanished. Then he split into two identical parts, one simply walking out of the other and both manifestations stood before us. Much to my amazement, the two Sivin then held hands, mirroring the pose in which my sister and I stood.
Join, the creatures said in unison.
So my sister and I stepped forward. We became Sivin. And they became us, in a way. The initial conjunction was strange and I could feel the driving desire to pursue Sutekh slipping away. I turned to Horus. I don’t know what I looked like by then, but his expression was one I will treasure for a long time.
‘We are well,’ I said. ‘Carry out the order and then find your brother.’
What had already been joined now combined with my sister and her Sivin. As one, we left the Osiran ship and removed ourselves from space-time. We observed th
e universe as it spun and then we returned to Zuliter. What amount of time had passed, I had no inkling. Times merged together a little to me then. All I knew was that the Osirans had gone. They had pursued Sutekh.
I scrutinised the time wake and saw a desert. He had fled to a place called Egypt. Horus and the others had followed him, imprisoned him. I felt this was right. Then I reached out to Hathor and she embraced me with her being. Or was it Khonsu that embraced Hathor? It mattered not. We were together and free of such burdens in every single fashion imaginable.
PANDORIC’S BOX
THE SITUATION ON the ground was not good. The enemy was too strong. They did not need to regenerate. They were not flesh and blood. They were not alive in the sense that the troops fighting them understood the term.
Wearing the off-white tunic and armour of a Pathfinder, Commander Naxil usually cut a dashing figure. Not today. Today he looked old and beaten, tired from the constant need to be alert, dirty from the sodden battlefield.
He was squatting down, pressed against a low wall that had clearly once been part of a larger structure. The staser rifle he clutched had personal modifications made to it that allowed him to differentiate organic from plastic. Not something the regular Gallifreyan troops had.
Naxil looked behind him at the three other members of his team. Their mission was to establish a power-boosted, open-ended transmat zone deep in hostile territory.
The enemy had become adept at detecting TARDISes and either warp-shunted them to far-flung destinations or sealed them in plastic film that those inside could not break through. So good old-fashioned matter transmitters were being used.
This was the turning point. If the Time Lords could secure this planet, Lord President Rassilon believed they could push the enemy back to their planet of origin and maybe even time-loop it with newly acquired technology.
Low chance of resistance, General Brissilan had said. Get in, get out. He had almost made it sound easy. But then the Pathfinders had entered the town. A few survivors remained – mostly in rags – flitting between the piles of debris, trying to keep a low profile. That had played havoc with the motion sensors.
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