Helium 3: Death from the Past (Helium-3 Book 2)

by Brandon Q. Morris

  It wasn’t that difficult, and her wing didn’t even hurt anymore. Gravity was at most half as strong as on the home world, and it decreased toward the center, while the air density remained roughly constant. How had the designers managed it? She could figure that out later. Now she had to concentrate on possible obstacles.

  The first path was coming toward her. It was easy to see because the two edges were illuminated. She flew under it. As she did so, she noticed that the paths consisted of transparent material. It had to be a great experience to walk over it to the control center. Nothing would block the view of the giant dimensions of the Sphere’s interior.

  Just beyond the path, she flew upward on a spiral track. She must have had 200 spans of free space above her, which she would have to use. Kimi beat her wings faster. She was getting warm and almost lost her breath. Up here, the atmosphere was probably getting a little thinner. People couldn’t perform miracles. The next path came within reach.

  Shortly before it, something suddenly tugged at her shoulder. It was not Norok. He flew far below her. It could only have been a thread of the Mendraki. They were obviously already above them. Kimi maneuvered around this obstacle, too.

  Actually, it was silly. The Mendraki might not have suspected anything about this undeclared contest. Or had they? Whoever reached the control center first could, in the best case, take control of the Sphere alone. No, she trusted Tolkut not to do that. But Kasfok?

  “Watch out!” shouted Norok from beneath her.

  Instinctively, she let herself sink down. Only then did she notice the path directly above her, which she had almost hit. She had been lucky once again. Thank you, Norok. The path was unlit and hardly visible from the side. Not everything seemed to work perfectly in the Sphere.

  Again she touched a Mendraki thread. It did not hinder her flight. Hopefully, neither Tolkut nor Kasfok had secured himself with this thread! If so, and she tore it, one of them would plummet many spans, so she knew she had to pay better attention.

  Kimi waited until she was far enough away from any obstacles. Then she looked around thoroughly. She found the Mendraki near the headquarters. They had maybe 30 spans to go. It would be hard to catch up with them, but she had to try. At least they were far enough away that she would not disturb their threads.

  The glass ball glowed below her. Kimi angled her wings, pulled her knees forward a bit, and landed with a few wing flutters. It didn’t look elegant, but it was safe, given she had no idea what the Sphere consisted of or how stable it was. The soles of her feet touched the warm floor, and she flexed her knees.

  The floor was hard, yet surprisingly transparent. It was as if she were standing on the rim of a gossamer glass bowl. Below her was a dollhouse, built on one level. In the middle was a room in which there were many devices with flashing lights. Distributed around it were rooms of varying sizes that seemed to be for sleeping, hygiene, or food. All of this must have been 20 spans away if she imagined Mart in the scenery.

  Something touched her from behind. Kimi jerked around, startled. One of the Mendraki had approached. So she had not arrived here first after all. Was it Tolkut or Kasfok? It was too dark. But when the Mendrak danced the steps of homage, she was sure she was dealing with Tolkut.

  You are already here, she drummed.

  We are still looking for the entrance, replied the Mendrak.

  She pointed her beak down, and the spider’s head followed her gaze. Perhaps it is located on the level where the central office is located?

  Tolkut is currently exploring this level.

  Oh, she had confused the two again. Warmth rose to her face. Fortunately, it was so dark that Kasfok could not notice the change in the color of her feathers.

  The Sphere is fascinating, she drummed sheepishly. It must be a special glass.

  It is not glass, Kasfok replied. It’s not a material we know. It’s strong enough to support us, but it’s incredibly thin.

  After all, we weigh almost nothing. How do you know the thickness of the material?

  I hear every single one of Tolkut’s steps. This means that the vibrations triggered by them spread almost unhindered. The material may consist of only one atomic layer.

  That’s how you knew where I had ended up.

  Yes. Tolkut sends his regards.

  You two can communicate?

  All his vibrations, I receive them as if he were standing next to me. He says there is no entrance into the Sphere.

  Great. There was only a single atomic layer between them and the ship’s controls, but they still couldn’t get to it? There must be an entrance, she drummed. Mart was at headquarters before he came to us.

  She heard a swish, and then Norok landed next to her. She explained the problem to him.

  “Maybe Mart possesses a key,” he said.

  “Possessed. Or do you see him anywhere?”

  “Now don’t be so snippy. I was just trying to help.”

  “Sorry. I’m very tense right now. The existence of our peoples—”

  “Wait a minute, Kimi. Remember that moment when we met Mart?”

  “He came out of a door hidden in the wall.”

  “Exactly. And when you confronted him, how did he open the door?”

  That had to be it! There was no key. Why would Mart, who apparently commanded the giant sphere all by himself, lock the control center? They just hadn’t found the door handle yet.

  “He called a name,” Kimi said, “and then said something that sounded like an order.”

  “What exactly did he say? I bet that gets us into the central office, too.”

  “The name had three syllables and began with A. I was still thinking that maybe the ship’s control could be called that. Akizu?”

  “That ending, while common in our language, is certainly not common among people.”

  “Wait, Norok. I need to concentrate.”

  She closed her eyes. Then she put herself back in the small, brightly lit room from yesterday. On the other side of the door that Mart had opened, the light had flickered. The person had looked at the wall and then said something: Aleksa, open se dor. That was it. It felt right. Kimi opened her beak wide and said it as loudly as she could. After all, she didn’t know where the door was that she wanted to open.

  “Aleksa, open se dor.”

  Norok fluttered his wings in fright. “What’s wrong?”

  “That’s what he said, don’t you remember?”

  “Could be. And now?”

  “Now we’re looking for doors, Norok.”

  “We don’t need that. If there are doors anywhere, it’s probably where the strange paths meet the Sphere.”

  “That’s right, Norok. I should have thought of that myself.”

  The four of them stood at the end of a path that, from below, looked like a giant, elegantly looped screw, or one of the weeping lianas from the home world.

  “Aleksa, open se dor.”

  “I can’t help but think that sounds strange,” Norok said. “Why do they say—”

  “Tolkut is gone!” shouted Kimi.

  Where their Mendraki friend had been standing, a rectangular opening had formed. Tolkut was just sticking his front legs out.

  The path continues here, he drummed.

  “He says we go here,” Kimi translated.

  “Let’s go then,” Norok replied.

  The way down resembled the many paths outside, but it had a railing. That seemed practical, because the gravity decreased more and more toward the center. A being without wings would then have difficulties leaving the center. Kimi wasn’t worried. She spread her wings and sailed directly to the room where all the lights were shining.

  This time she was the first. The rectangular room, which most certainly represented the headquarters of the Sphere, was roughly divided into three parts. In the left third were cabinets full of electronics, recognizable by numerous colored lights, switches, and buttons made for the tiny doll-sized hands of a human. Kimi had to push her claws f
orward and angle them if she wanted to operate any of them without hitting the neighboring buttons.

  There was dust on the keys and all horizontal surfaces—a thick layer, which was all the stranger because there was almost weightlessness. No finger must have touched the keys for a very long time. The electronics in the cabinets were likely very reliable, so no one would have to correct anything. It was probably responsible for the inside of the Sphere, for oxygen, heat, supply, disposal, and so forth.

  Kimi pushed off and floated into the right third of the control center. There, Tolkut and Kasfok were examining two chairs. Various controls were arranged in front of and next to them.

  I know something like that from your ships, drummed Tolkut.

  Yes, they are likely to be pilot seats, she replied.

  Kimi tried to sit on one of the seats, but it was too narrow, too short, and too uncomfortable. If they had to control the Sphere from here, it would be an exhausting occupation.

  Her partner was examining the central element in the middle third. “Look here,” Norok called out.

  What does he say? Tolkut asked.

  “Why don’t you put the translator on the floor,” Kimi said.

  Norok took the device out of his feathers and placed it on the floor. “This thing here looks very exciting,” he then said.

  I don’t understand a word, Kasfok drummed. Is the translator broken?

  “The translator is not working,” Kimi said.

  Norok bent down again and fiddled with the device. “I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do,” he then said.

  She floated over to him, held onto the middle of the platform’s railing, and pressed her foot onto the translator. “Can you hear me now?” she asked.

  “We hear you,” sounded from the loudspeaker.

  “It’s the weightlessness,” Kimi explained. “It prevented the translator from picking up the vibrations. It was floating a few micrometers above the floor.”

  “So now someone has to have a foot on it at all times?” asked Norok.

  “It’s not like we can nail it down,” Kimi said.

  “I can fix it to the floor with a piece of string,” Tolkut said. “That will hold, but you can still lift it up.”

  Finally, the translator was back to working as usual.

  “What have you got there?” asked Kasfok.

  “I’m not sure,” Norok replied.

  He stood in front of a knee-high pedestal with a round base that measured about a forearm’s length. On it stood a column of a glass-like material that reached Kimi’s chin. It reminded her of the strange mirror, but the mirror had been flat, not round. The column seemed to be filled with a cloud of gray smoke, and something was moving inside. Kimi concentrated, but couldn’t make out any solid shape. Perhaps there was simply a fan at the bottom circulating the smoke.

  “Maybe it’s decoration,” Kasfok conjectured.

  “It’s in the middle of a room that seems to serve important purposes,” Norok said.

  “Decoration might be important here, too,” Kimi said, “but I also think this column has a practical purpose.”

  Tolkut crawled around the column and scanned it from all sides. He even climbed up it and danced a few steps. The column did not react.

  “The object is made of a liquid, but highly viscous material,” he said after he’d climbed back down.

  “What makes you think that?” asked Norok.

  “Did you see my dance moves? The translator didn’t seem to pick up anything. Even when I’m up on the ceiling, the sound is conducted through the ceiling and walls to the device on the floor. But not through the column.”

  “What kind of material could this be?” asked Norok.

  “Some amorphous solid... Maybe silicon dioxide?”

  “Glass,” Kimi said. “I could have told you that more simply, though.” She touched the column. Its surface was smooth and cool. “Glass,” she repeated.

  “Is that what you call it?” asked Tolkut.

  “Exactly.”

  “All right, the column is made of glass,” Norok said. “Does that help us?”

  “It has to be a special glass,” Tolkut said. “The Mendraki are not capable of making a glass that conducts vibrations so poorly.”

  “We need to find out the purpose of the column,” Kasfok said.

  Kimi silently agreed with him.

  “It’s probably turned off,” Norok said. “So we have to activate it.”

  “There are no switches of any kind,” Tolkut said. “I have examined the entire surface.”

  “There were no switches on the wall, either, and yet Mart opened the door,” Kimi said.

  “I was just thinking about that, too,” Norok said. “Alexa, open se dor.”

  What was that all about? Yesterday it was about a door. In which spaceship did the same command open doors and start central facilities?

  But Norok’s hunch had been correct. The column lit up blue. The mist inside it changed its color. Then it took on shining contours. Inside the column, a sculpture grew before their eyes. No, a human being, but lacking all fine details.

  The human being straightened up. “I didn’t understand your order,” she said.

  “Who are you?” blurted Kimi.

  “I am Alexa. And who are you? I can’t find you in the user database.”

  “I’m Kimi.”

  “You are authorized by your presence. I’m storing you in the database.”

  “And what are you?”

  “I am the personification of the ship.”

  “You look like the design of a human being.”

  “Thank you for pointing that out to me. You can now configure my appearance the way you like it best.”

  “But what if Mart comes back?”

  “The user named Mart left this ship just under three hundred thousand years ago.”

  “But we were talking to him just yesterday, weren’t we?”

  “That was a projection. The user Mart left the ship almost three hundred thousand years ago. You can now configure my appearance in the way that best appeals to you.”

  “I would rather—”

  “Since she is giving you the opportunity,” Norok interrupted her, “you should use it.”

  “Yeah, those unstable legs make me all nervous,” Kasfok said. “She’d better have six legs.”

  In the blink of an eye, a new pair of legs grew out of the figure’s abdomen in the column in front and behind. Alexa now looked like a Hipp. On the home world, these had been quadrupeds that were used for agricultural purposes.

  “How am I supposed to talk to a Hipp?” asked Norok. “That would be like talking to an animal. It doesn’t work that way. She should have a strong pair of wings.”

  The beginnings of wings pushed out of the figure’s back. Alexa shrank, as she now took up more and more space. “Like this?” she asked.

  “A butterfly, yummy!” said Kasfok. “And so big, too!”

  “I’m sorry,” Tolkut said, “but this is too distracting for us. Butterfly wings are the biggest treats of all for us.”

  “I think Alexa looks like a jellyworm,” said Kimi. Saliva was running from her beak. She had told Tolkut at some point that those gelatinous worms had been her favorite childhood food.

  “Ew, please don’t say that,” Norok blurted.

  Oddly enough, her partner couldn’t stand the cute creatures with their 27 eyes, the best-tasting part of all in the jellyworms. The fact that supplies still remained in the generation ship’s storage area indicated that he was not alone in his dislike.

  “What look would Mart have chosen for you?” asked Kimi.

  “That’s a good question,” Norok said.

  The wings dissolved, as did four of the six legs. Instead, Alexa’s hips widened, and two separate protrusions appeared at her chest. Alexa spun in a circle. The two bulges could move a bit even after the rest of her body had stilled. Their purpose, however, seemed mysterious.

  “Is there a
special reason for this shape?” asked Kasfok. “Can the bulges be used as weapons?”

  “No, it seems to have been purely aesthetic reasons for Mart,” Alexa said.

  “All right, then we’ll do without it,” Kimi said. “Just the basic state, that’s enough.”

  “Don’t you at least have a preference for a certain hairstyle? I could—”

  “Thank you, but no, Alexa.”

  “A beak, perhaps? You have a very nice beak,” said Alexa.

  “Two strong mandibles would be nice,” Kasfok interjected.

  “No, thank you. The basic state, please. Exit configuration.”

  “Configuration finished. How can I help you?”

  “We need to fly to the Artificials and ask them to stop destroying the solar system.”

  “I’m sorry, Kimi, there is no such target in my database.”

  “But you could steer the Sphere anywhere?” asked Norok.

  “No. The range of the FTL drive is limited to the Milky Way.”

  “That should be enough,” Norok said. “Do you realize what this means? We don’t need to argue. Fuck the Artificials. We’ll just take our peoples to other systems. We could even travel to the home world.”

  “But there’s not enough room for everyone,” Kimi said.

  “Then we’ll fly more than once.”

  “There is still enough exotic matter supply to build two hyperspace tunnels,” Alexa said, “so we can head to one destination and then head back. After that, we will only reach sub-light speeds.”

  “Is there somewhere we could refuel exotic matter?” asked Norok.

  “Exotic matter is not found in free form in the universe,” Alexa explained. “It has to be enriched in a complicated process. We do not have access to the necessary technology.”

  “But maybe there are still corresponding camps of people somewhere?” proposed Kimi.

  “I am not aware of any of that.”

  “Or factories we could use?” interjected Norok.

  Of course. Kimi was ready to ask this question next.