Ammonite Stars (Omnibus): Ammonite Galaxy #4-5

by Gillian Andrews

  He shook his head. “Than you.” Then he thought perhaps he should elaborate. “Than any Coriolan.”

  “Take that back, nomus!”

  “Shan’t!”

  “It’s not true!”

  “Of course it is.”

  “It so is not!”

  He smiled beatifically. “Prove it, then.”

  Her brows snapped together. “Wherever and whenever, Kwaidian.”

  He considered. “Well. How about here and now?”

  She grimaced. “You know I can’t.”

  He made some chicken noises and flapped his elbows about. Diva started to hop from foot to foot. “You know I can’t! You are supposed to be resting.”

  Six made more flapping wings with his elbows.

  “Oh, all right. Have it your own way.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Are you giving in? Admitting defeat?”

  “Don’t push me, Six. You know I’m not. Lumina! Why can you still make me so cross, so quickly?”

  “It’s another skill I have,” said Six modestly.

  “Grrhh!”

  WHEN THEY FINALLY met up with Arcan at the appointed time and place, Six was back to normal. They were all pleased to see the orthogel entity at first, greeting him with cries of pleasure, but then they fell completely quiet as they realized that something was very, very wrong. Small, worried waves of black were running through the orthogel, and he seemed almost ashamed to talk to them.

  “We have to get back to Valhai. There are ...” Arcan shifted his attention momentarily towards Tallen, “...some developments there.”

  Tallen stiffened. “What is wrong? What has happened to Petra?”

  In answer the stars in the Pyraklies constellation winked out, and they found themselves standing on the 21st floor of the 256th skyrise on Valhai, with Tallen standing pugnaciously at the front, his fingers curled into fists, ready to take whatever action might be necessary.

  Chapter 22

  PETRA HAD BEEN repeating the chant of valour for so long that her tongue was completely dry.

  ‘I will not stop, I will be a river.

  I will not pause, I will be light.

  I will not waver, I will be the earth.

  I will not give up, I will be death.

  I will not fail, for the blue stone is in my heart.’

  Mandalon 50 rather liked the song. He liked the way the Namuri girl unconsciously moved her hand towards where the blue stone usually hung around her neck every time she got to the last line. He promised himself that if they ever got out of this one, he would buy her the biggest namura stone he could find in the whole binary system. Even then, it would be smaller than her heart, he thought, because she simply never gave up.

  They had been scrabbling away at the rock for nearly two more days, and the air inside their confinement was not going to last for much longer. Already each gasp of breath left them unsatisfied, and their bodies were responding by caking them with sweat, and leaving their skin cold and clammy. They were shivering uncontrollably, too, but still the Namuri girl chanted the song.

  It wasn’t audible now, because she didn’t want to use up more of the precious air than strictly necessary, but he knew where she was in the song by the motion of her lips. She always opened them slightly when she got to the middle of the last line. Every time she thought the words ‘blue stone’ she closed her eyes momentarily, paused a second, and her fingers gave a slight movement towards her throat - just enough to do justice to the sound of the words, to honour them. Although there was no light in the tunnel, the namura stone gave off an eerie blue sheen which gave him just enough illumination to see her.

  Mandalon had long ago taken on the chant as his own. As they took it in turns to hack their way through the fallen stones in the passageway, he found his own mind returning again and again to the few lines she had taught him. Each time he found himself wondering if the blue stone would one day be in his heart, or whether Sellites didn’t qualify for spiritual help like that. He felt sad that they probably couldn’t. For centuries the Sellites had only believed in the Sellites. Wealth and status were the only things that mattered to them: the cost-to-bulk proportion of their artifacts, and their position as heads of house.

  He sighed in the dark. The fact that an unschooled girl from a backward clan on Coriolis could teach him anything had come as a surprise. When he had asked for her as a bodyguard it had been on an impulse. He had remembered the bravado she had shown, and, when he had wanted an outsider he could trust, his mind had automatically gone to the brother and sister he had met when Amanita had been arrested. They were young, and they had impressed him with their sublime disinterest in his culture, in the way they had judged his society as being a wasteland. Now he was beginning to realize that they might have been right.

  “I think we are nearly through,” gasped Petra.

  Mandalon closed his eyes. She said that at regular intervals, and he rather wished that she wouldn’t; it didn’t raise his spirits at all.

  She put one hand out to shake his arm. “Did you hear?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then say something!”

  “I am trying to conserve oxygen.”

  “Arcan will find us as soon as we break through the last rubble. He will be able to sense where we are.”

  “I am not afraid.”

  Petra looked sideways. She could barely see the face of the boy next to her, but she knew that this was true. Although he was a foreigner, he had moved as fearlessly into the tunnel with her as her own brother would have, had been prepared to risk losing his life under a rock fall in this dry and dusty tomb. He had surprised her.

  “Not scared then, Sellite?” she asked.

  A small smile touched the corners of his mouth. “I was scared when I saw the ship my father was on blossom out into a space explosion,” he told her, his breath coming in gasps. “I was scared when I took over from Atheron at the meeting of the binary system. I was scared when I let Gorgamon die in the airlock, and I was scared when I woke up here on my own.” He looked again at her resolute face which shone with the small traces of blue light that the stone was giving off. “But here, with you, I am not scared.”

  “You aren’t?”

  He grinned, and his teeth shone in the dark momentarily. “You are an extraordinary girl,” he said. “I have never met anybody quite like you. I find I cannot be scared near you. I want to protect you.”

  She gave a laugh, with some difficulty. “You want to protect me? But I am your bodyguard, not the other way around.”

  “That is true. It is an enigma. Yet I feel I would like to save you from harm.”

  “An emptor who cares. And a Sellite. I have never heard of such a thing.”

  “And I had never heard of anyone like you.”

  “There are many like me on Coriolis. All the clan women are like me.”

  He shook his head. “You are wrong.”

  “How would you know? You never met any others.”

  But he shook his head. “I know. Believe me, I know.” Then he prised the namura stone from her rigid fingers and began to scrape away at the rock in front of them. “It is, I believe, my turn. You must rest.”

  She wiped at her mouth with the sleeve of her tunic, only succeeding in rubbing more dust across her face. “I will rest when you are safe.”

  He shook his head. “Then you may never rest again.”

  She smiled. Her lips moved. He knew what she was saying: “I will not stop, I will be a river ...”

  MANDALON FELL BACK onto the filthy dirt underneath them. He was done. There was nothing else that he could force his muscles to do, they were now lying limp and loose, and refused to obey his commands. His heart was fluttering helplessly like a girl’s, and he knew that he was within minutes of falling unconscious.

  “You did well,” he managed to get out.

  “I will not fail ...”

  “You can do no more. We no longer have any air. We will not be able to
survive for much longer. But it is an honour to die with you.”

  She gritted her teeth. “You must not die. There is only disgrace in such a death. It would humiliate the Namuri clan. I will not let you die.”

  He touched her shoulder, the side which was not broken. “There is nothing more you can do.”

  She shook his hand off. “I can continue. I will continue.” Her face was set in fury. “I will not fail ...”

  He touched her arm again, but she turned her shoulder away, and hacked at the rocks still in front of them.

  “Just one small opening,” she muttered. “And Arcan can find us. “We only need one tiny chink in this pile of rubble. Then something occurred to her. “Stay here,” she instructed. “Don’t try to follow me.”

  He was worried. “Why? What are you going to do?”

  “Just stay where you are. Promise?”

  He didn’t want to, but she became so agitated when he refused to agree that he eventually capitulated. It didn’t really matter, he decided, because they would both be dead within an hour anyway. Though he hadn’t wanted to die alone. Her presence brought light into the darkness.

  She pressed the namura stone into his hands. “This will protect you. Stay exactly where you are; there is a strong slab of rock directly above you here. You will be safer.”

  He could hardly believe his ears. “Safer? I will be dead.”

  “Not,” she said grimly, “if I can help it, you won’t.”

  He lay back, too tired and too confused from the lack of oxygen to his brain to be able to argue with her. She bent and he thought for a moment that she had kissed his hands, then realized that she had touched her lips to the namura stone.

  “Goodbye Mandalon. It has been a privilege to serve you.” Then the girl slipped away, away to the rock face about three metres ahead. He wondered idly what she was planning to do, and then lapsed into a semi-comatose state.

  Petra dragged her resisting body along the tunnel. She now knew what she had to do. There was no more time to dig their way out of the rock fall. It was time to use a different strategy. Her lungs were heaving as they tried to get enough air inside them to function, and she knew that Mandalon was right; they would never stay conscious long enough to dig themselves out. But there was one thing she could do – the last thing she could do.

  She crawled up to the pile of rocks which now blocked their way to safety and felt around above her. The only chance that Mandalon now had was if a small gap were created in the rock. And there was only one way that could happen. It was a long shot, at best, but it was the only thing she was left with. She dragged herself up to the top of the loose rubble and rock that had fallen in when Scurrion had set the fuses, and reached her hand up. She had been right, she realized straight away. There was a fracture in the overhead slab of rock, and it was resting on only a small boulder. If she could just get that boulder out of the way, the whole slab would come down. And that might – just might – break a way through the remaining rock, or at least allow the precious air from the other side to seep in.

  She positioned herself as best she could, sliding as far into the opening as she was able, and then grabbed the boulder, slipping her one good hand around it to embrace the solid lump of rock. As she did so, she felt a tiny giving motion. It wasn’t much, but she prayed that it would be enough.

  Slowly, she began to rock the boulder to and fro, her mind still chanting the clan valour song. If ever she had needed valour, it was now. There would be no chance of survival for the person underneath this huge slab of rock when it came down. She just hoped that, further along the fall, it would provoke the collapse of other slabs, until a small funnel formed between Mandalon and the exterior. With that, Arcan would be able to find him, and enough air to keep him alive should seep through the opening.

  The boulder rocked slightly, but it was taking too long for it to erode the base. She dug at the bottom of the rock frantically, trying to will her lungs to make do with the amount of oxygen they had. They were refusing, turning her eyes blind. She redoubled her efforts; there was no time for any other plans. This had to work. She tugged again and again at the boulder, putting all her remaining determination into it, slowly managing to break the fragments beneath it which were holding it in place.

  Still it resisted. It seemed determined, she felt, to stop her from feeling that final surge of achievement that she needed. Tears of frustration poured down her face. She no longer felt the pain of the broken arm; she felt nothing at all. Her strength was that of a trapped animal, determined to free itself in one last attempt.

  She battered again and again at the huge rock, pushing and pulling at it with an almost supernatural force which the last dregs of adrenalin in her body were giving her. Again and again it resisted all of her efforts, until the blackness behind her eyes was slowly seeping out into the rest of her head, and she knew that her time had inexorably run out.

  She braced herself against the roof of the tunnel behind her, and with the very last of her strength, made one final, frantic effort. She was rewarded with an ear-splitting crack of rock upon rock, and then she collapsed, her brain no longer able to keep her own lungs working, the darkness overtaking all her being. Her one last thought was of a brilliant blue namura stone. Mentally she reached out to grasp it, but it seemed to grow larger and larger until it encompassed her and drew her into its brilliance.

  MANDALON HEARD A terrific crack, and the tunnel began to shake. He had been lying semi-conscious on the ground, but the tremors of the rock and the surrounding tunnel made him open one eye in the darkness. All he could see was the faint glow of the stone Petra had given him. It seemed to be shining in the dark.

  He tried to lift his head, but it was impossible. His body had shut down, and the only movement it would permit him was that one eyelid, which felt so heavy that it took a great effort. The rest of his body seemed leaden, incapable of movement.

  There was a hideous rending noise, and then the shrieking of rock as it cleft into fragments. The thunder continued, for what seemed hours, until finally a shower of dust appeared from the tunnel face, covering him.

  “Petra?” He tried to cry out loud, but could only manage the thought. “Petra?”

  But his words came back to him, empty. The tunnel felt bereft. Petra, he knew, was gone. As if to mock his inability to move, a slight breeze of air seemed to make its way into the confined space. His lungs reacted automatically; expanding to drag in as much of the reviving gas as they could. He was alive. His fingers felt the blue stone she had placed between them, and he began to cry.

  ARCAN APPEARED IN front of them all, where they were searching the tunnels under the Valhai Voting Dome. “You must come.” A bubble of orthogel surrounded them all, and transported them along to one of the most easterly corridors.

  They found some twenty Sellites crushed into a small tunnel. There was a stretcher, and Mandalon 50 was lying prone on it, his eyes closed. Vion was attending him, and looked up at them as the others materialized.

  “He will recover,” he said shortly. “He has been very lucky.”

  Tallen stared at the fallen rock which was blocking the tunnel. He had gone white and his face was anguished. “Petra?” He turned to the orthogel entity with a pleading expression on his face. “Petra?”

  Arcan went black. “I am sorry. I cannot detect another living presence,” he said slowly. “But I will find her body, and transport her here.”

  Grace put a hand out and touched the orthogel. “There is no longer any hurry, Arcan,” she said to him quietly. “Let us do it. Let us do it ourselves.”

  Tallen began to tear at the rocks with his bare hands, huge sobs taking over his whole body. “NO!” he cried. “NO! PETRA! NO!”

  The Sellites moved back, as if embarrassed by his behaviour, but the others all threw themselves at the rocks alongside Tallen, determined to find the Namuri girl.

  Arcan had turned an uncomfortable black. He knew what they were going to find.

/>   Six was throwing rocks behind him, uncaring of the Sellites, who were huddled together, muttering.

  “Petra!” he called. “Don’t worry, we are here!”

  Diva was at his side, scrabbling frenziedly with the rubble. “Yes, hang on! We are nearly with you!”

  Ledin and Grace were beside them, and even though Grace was lacking several fingers, she was still managing to rip rocks away from the blockage. Bennel was there too, his long body more fluid as he picked up a rock, turned to deposit it neatly behind them, and then turned back to repeat the process.

  Tallen was distraught. He dragged boulder after boulder out from the rubble. At one moment he turned back to the huddle of Sellites.

  “That’s right,” he shouted, his voice broken with worry. “Do nothing. Stand there watching. You are none of you worth one hair of her head! None of you. You are traitors and liars!” He spat in their direction, and the worthies stepped further back, murmuring amongst themselves, irate at having to witness the insults of an offworlder.

  “Yes, you may laugh!” he cried at them. “But I swear I will find out what has happened to my sister, and I give you my blood oath that I shall avenge her!”

  Then, aware that he had taken too much time away from the search for Petra, he turned back to the task at hand. “Petra! Namuri! NAMURI!”

  It took them over an hour to uncover the remains of the young girl, and they needed the help of long levers brought hurriedly down from one of the store rooms in the dome above. She was buried underneath a huge slab of stone, which had crushed the life out of her with consummate ease. The girl was lying peacefully, a smile on her face, as if, in the moment of her death she had sensed something wonderful.

  Tallen bent to take the broken face in his hands. The tears fell unrestrained down his cheeks. His face was harrowed with a pain so intense he couldn’t bear it. He smoothed the hair back over the white face, and his own features seemed to blur into utter despair.