Huang met Leona’s eyes and mouthed, ‘Ta ma de’ – Khitan words she knew as a curse.
Reoriented to travel nose cone first, they approached the Earth’s outer atmosphere. The Aquila’s hull began to shake, and its surface temperature increased as a result of friction. Kai put the ship into a slow spin to minimise the buffeting caused by turbulence. Leona felt her inner suit sticking to her body as the ship’s cooling system reached the limit of its capacity.
Kai ordered his crew to strap themselves into the shuttle and then he joined them at the controls. He sent an operating command via his com-pad to turn on the water sprays used to clean the shuttle’s exterior, and immediately Leona felt the temperature drop. Then Kai opened the shuttle-bay doors. The roar of the air stream, already like a rocket exhaust, increased in intensity as the doors were torn away from the hull. They looked out through the gaping red-hot aperture at the night side of Earth, Khitan territories faintly illuminated by the Moon. Huang appeared puzzled by its appearance, and then nodded grimly when Leona mouthed the words, ‘No lights.’
Kai looked up from his com-pad and gestured it was time to abandon the ship. Leona momentarily lost consciousness, but recovered in time to see an incandescent streak marking the path of the Aquila above them. She stared at the sky for long seconds after it had disappeared.
Kai set a course south, keeping the shuttle at low altitude. There was ice floating all around, and still they travelled onwards. According to the distraydar, there was high ground rising to five hundred metres but, strangely, the area ahead looked flat. It was Huang who explained the phenomenon. ‘There is an island there, covered in ice. It all looks the same. Wait – I see a shadow from a tower. Aiya, it is a lighthouse!’
They side-slipped down to low level and hovered above other man-made structures. They had been buildings once, but now they were ruins. Rusty steel chimneys lay collapsed across a roadway. What had been a factory was now half smashed, its innards spilling out through the walls. Tanks, pipes and cables were scattered over the ice. Some huge steel cylinders, ten metres high and ten across, lay bent and distorted, as if they had been crushed by a giant foot. Kai settled the shuttle on an area of clear ice, next to a complex of prefabricated buildings.
‘What is this place?’ asked Huang.
‘It is where men used to heat the flesh of whales,’ said Kai, but Huang still looked puzzled.
‘I can explain,’ said Leona. ‘It was in the last century, when the underground reserves of oil had almost run out. Both the Empire and the Federation’s governments tried to protect whales, but criminal organisations hunted them for the oil in their bodies, until there were no whales left.’
‘In the end, only the strongest species survive,’ said Kai. ‘I do not expect the human race will continue for much longer.’
Leona looked away and stared at the sea.
The occupants of the whale-bot settled to a steady routine. Atherlonne contacted them each morning, CHT. Although she could telepathise directly with Maura, she chose to communicate via the wardroom viz-box screen, not to exclude Geoff and Chen. She told them that Mettravar had built the subsea cavern as a retreat from the Cronus Rift when the day-to-day running of the Thiosh community had become difficult. The Thiosh were split over what they should do after the Hesperians built the Unidome. It was then that Voorogg emerged as the leader of a dissident faction, in opposition to Mettravar and Atherlonne.
On one occasion, Geoff watched a question appear jerkily on the screen. Atherlonne asked Maura if she’d had news of Kai’s party. ‘Why doesn’t she telepathise with Kai directly?’ he asked Maura, in a confidential tone.
‘Leona says Kai doesn’t want to share his thoughts at the moment.’
‘So why doesn’t Atherlonne telepathise with Leona, then?’
‘Leona’s never shared with a Thiosh. It’s really weird the first time you do it. You see the world from a totally different perspective. I have some idea of what it’s like to live in an ocean because of my studies. But Thiosh society is complicated. When Atherlonne projects to me, she’s careful just to tell me what I need to know and can understand. It’s all a matter of trust.’
Geoff watched Maura type a reply confirming Kai, Leona and Huang were all well. Then she signed off.
Later, Geoff and Maura were alone in their cabin.
‘You didn’t tell Atherlonne anything about Kai developing a ruthless streak,’ said Geoff.
‘I’ll project my feelings to her later.’ She reached up to him with both hands, but Geoff broke away.
‘You know, I feel a complete idiot,’ he said. ‘You can share the most intimate details with your telepathic friends. You have totally confidential conversations because you do it in your heads. I’m left completely out in the cold, even though you’re the one person I want to be closest to. I might as well be a lapdog.’
‘Oh, Geoff, I’m sorry. I haven’t told you how glad I am that you’re not telepathic. I can have a normal relationship with you, read your emotions from your face, give you little surprises, be really pleased to hear your news from your own lips. Let me tell you, telepathy is not all it’s cracked up to be. I hear a lot of stuff I can’t understand, and things I do understand that worry me sick.’
‘What do you mean?’
Maura glanced at the door. ‘Keep this to yourself,’ she said quietly. ‘You mustn’t tell a soul, but, when Leona was Prof’s office supervisor, she hacked into OPDEO top-secret files and copied them.’
‘Good for her. OPDEO is a barbarous, immoral organisation.’
‘Yes, but she was looking specifically for information useful to the Khitan Empire, in case of an all-out war with the Federation. Not only that, but knowing Prof was sweet on her, she used him to gain access to confidential documents. I don’t know how I feel about all that.’
‘Well, she’s part of the crew with Kai and Huang now. It’ll help her if she’s a Khitan sympathiser.’
‘But Kai doesn’t want to talk to her anymore.’
‘He’s obviously on a mission. He’s concentrating all his energy on that.’
‘Yes, but she loves him.’
‘Oh, okay, just tell me what I need to know,’ said Geoff, bending to kiss her cheek.
During the following days, Geoff devised a way to interrogate the grey discs using his com-pad. Once he’d taught himself the simple but elegant Thiosh programming code, he provided a translation interface for Maura’s disc. He also downloaded a number of games from the third disc. Atherlonne had explained they were supposed to amuse them all, but Chen made most use of them.
When Geoff studied his own disc, he was very excited by what he found. The code itself was extremely adaptable and could rewrite itself in light of its usage. But its real power came from its continuous connection with cyberspace.
‘Can you believe this, Maura,’ he said, ‘we’ve got access to archived uni-net sites covering tens of millennia.’
‘What, Thiosh, you mean? I’m happy for you,’ said Maura, laughing.
‘Not just Thiosh. It’s linked to dozens of other uni-nets all over the galaxy.’
‘Eh, you mean there are other intelligent beings out there?’
‘It gets weirder, the more you go into it. There are even beings that aren’t beings.’
‘Sorry, you’re not making a lot of sense.’
‘There are beings that have no bodies and aren’t alive. They’re just intelligence – software without hardware, if you like.’
‘Oh, that’s terrifying,’ said Maura. ‘I’ve always been afraid of computers being cleverer than humans. They’re bound to look after themselves at our expense.’
‘It must depend on their programming,’ said Geoff. ‘Anyway, these beings aren’t computers anymore. They’re just minds.’
‘That’s beyond me. Let me tell you about my disc. Thiosh are totally different from any creature ever discovered before. They’re perfectly suited to their environment.’
‘How do they sw
im around so fast? They don’t seem to waggle anything.’
‘Their bodies are really just streamlined tubes. They suck in water and all the sulphur-rich stuff they live on, and shoot it out the back like a rocket.’
‘Are they blind like we thought?’
‘According to the data, they can detect depth, sulphur concentration, gravity waves and magnetism. They don’t have any of our senses, not at all.’
‘How do they reproduce? I haven’t seen any protuberances.’
‘Honestly, you men are all the same. Always thinking about sex.’
‘I was only asking from a purely scientific point of view,’ said Geoff, doing his best to look hurt.
‘So, you’d be interested to know they use sulphur like we use oxygen. They expel carbon disulphide.’
‘Wouldn’t that make bubbles?’
‘It’s a liquid, heavier than water. They collect it and process it back to sulphur.’
‘They have a chemical works?’
‘They can make what they like with their TK-power. But their production hasn’t affected the environment. The Saazats have always ensured that Thiosh technology doesn’t harm life.’
‘But what will happen now Mettravar’s gone?’ asked Geoff.
But, for once, Maura remained silent.
Going Home
Once again, Atherlonne communicated with the whale-bot trio via their wardroom viz-box screen.
Atherlonne:
The time has almost come. There is a place which Mettravar forbade us to go near. You sailed eastward on the open sea; the current gained in strength as you progressed. Also, the sea grew warmer every day. If you continue further you will reach a place from which you cannot sail back. That is where the Thiosh must now go, and it’s your destiny to lead the way.
Maura:
Tell me, please, why must we do this?
Atherlonne:
Now is the time to find another home. A new home for the Thiosh, but for you an old home which will welcome your return.
Maura:
An old home? We come from Earth.
Atherlonne:
Prepare yourselves for travel and return.
‘Jaysis, can that really be true?’ Maura said to Geoff. ‘We’ll soon go back to Earth, and the Thiosh too?’
Maura:
You’ll love it there. We have many hydrothermal vents rich in sulphur.
Atherlonne:
We know it will support our form of life. However, some of us will stay behind, and for that reason, I will say goodbye.
Maura engaged the fluke drive and followed the pilot fish to the surface of the ocean, where, in the light of Jupiter, they could see dozens of Thiosh swimming through the choppy waves, all heading south-east.
Geoff was pacing around the wardroom. ‘Look, Maura, I’m not happy about this. How are all these Thiosh going to get to Earth? Atherlonne must have the mother of all transport ships if we’re all going to go.’
‘Hm. I don’t think we’re travelling in a spacecraft. Atherlonne told me to head for the gateway.’
‘A gateway in the sea? What are you talking about?’ Geoff was absent-mindedly tugging at his beard.
‘It’s an entrance to a wormhole, like the Hesperian Space Agency created, when was it? Five years ago?’
‘That only lasted a few microseconds. And it was an opening in space leading somewhere, but no one was sure where.’
‘Well, I guess the technology must have moved on. Apparently it’s fully functional now.’
‘Hang on, what do we know about this?’ Geoff began pacing more quickly, punching his right fist into the palm of his left hand as he thought of each question. ‘Was it created artificially? Did the Thiosh make it? What are the risks? Who has been through it? Where does it come out? What happens if it drops you in the middle of a war zone? Can you get back again?’
Maura gripped his shoulders to hold him still. ‘I don’t know how it was made. I don’t know how it works. But it’s going to take us to Earth with the Thiosh. This will be our big chance to end the war.’
‘I wish I had your optimism,’ said Geoff.
‘Come on, be positive. Mettravar always wanted to trade Thiosh technology for peaceful coexistence. The eejits on Europa didn’t buy into it, but it’ll be different on our own planet. I’m sure it will.’
The current had swung them around so they were now heading south. There was no point in fighting the ocean; it was soon propelling them at a greater speed than the whale-bot could manage on its own. The distraydar screen was speckled with images of individual Thiosh. They appeared to be content to go with the flow, even though the vortex would gradually suck them down. Geoff could not conceive what would happen after that. He had no choice but to trust their Thiosh friend, and hope for the best.
‘Atherlonne’s been sharing with me.’ Maura paused to clear her throat. ‘She thanked us for our time together. She was looking after us even before we knew of her existence. It was Atherlonne who redesigned the whale-bot to make it suitable for our use. Mettravar asked her to do it before the conference, and then she sent it to Port Authority quayside in case we needed it.’
‘Mettravar must have known he was risking his life,’ said Geoff.
‘Sure he did. And there’s something you don’t know. Atherlonne’s explained it to me. The whale-bot has a capability to change shape. It has a fat-bodied mode for carrying cargo. She left it that way to give us as much room as possible. But now it needs to be longer and narrower.’
‘What! It’s made of metal, not elastic.’ Geoff started pacing again, this time back and forth across the bridge.
‘Atherlonne says it’s too wide to go through the gateway, but she can change its shape in transit. We’re going to be more streamlined. It’ll be an improvement, don’t you think?’
Geoff faced Maura and shrugged his shoulders. ‘I don’t know what to think, I honestly don’t. All I know is we’re going faster and faster down an enormous plughole.’
‘Well, it could be we’re being sucked down a sewerage pipe to eternity, but there’s no turning back. If you want something to do, just make sure we haven’t left anything loose lying around. We’d better strap ourselves in. It could be a bumpy ride.’
The rushing sound outside the hull had increased in intensity. Geoff stared at the viz-boxes on the bridge console. They had begun to flash blank screens of different colours. He thought at first it was electronic interference but, when he peered out through the small observation windows, he could see with his own eyes flashes of light from different parts of the spectrum. Then he noticed something else. The circular windows had become elliptical.
The whale-bot began to barrel roll. Chen was quickest to react. Leaping to the control console, he flipped the bot out of auto-control and caught the rotation on the control surfaces. He manipulated the joystick controls with chopstick dexterity to keep the craft aligned with a graticule on the screen.
‘Jaysis! That was a close one,’ said Maura. ‘I’d forgotten Chen’s a celestonaut pilot.’
‘His reflexes are razor sharp,’ said Geoff. ‘He wasn’t wasting his time when he spent all those hours playing Atherlonne’s computer games.’
‘I liked her. I’m sorry she’s not coming to Earth. I’m sure she would have helped end the war.’
Geoff put his arm round Maura and they watched Chen’s mastery of the joysticks. The whirlpool was sweeping them around in an ever-decreasing circle. The instruments indicated the centrifugal force to be half their natural weight on Earth. Chen alleviated their discomfort by offsetting the hydroplanes so the g-force acted downwards, but it still felt very strange after they’d spent such a long period in low gravity.
Geoff was fascinated by Chen’s skill. He’d shown himself to be better than the autopilot, although it had probably never been programmed for the conditions of the vortex. Geoff realised it was vital for Chen to keep the bot stable. If it once slewed sideways, the craft could pirouette and spin like a twig
in white-water rapids. Perhaps the reason Atherlonne had streamlined the vessel wasn’t only to get them through the entrance of the wormhole. It also made the craft more responsive. Previously, the experience of sailing the whale-bot had reminded Geoff of holidays on a canal narrowboat. Now it felt more like a racing toboggan.
After several hours, the forward lights began to illuminate clouds of bubbles and foam. The vortex was sucking them down a core of water and steam. It was too noisy for conversation. Maura had put her hands over her ears, but Geoff wanted to analyse the sound. It wasn’t only caused by the turbulence outside; the hull itself was keening a lament. The vibration was causing Geoff’s vision to blur and sometimes the whole structure shook with a resounding clang. He couldn’t see any debris or rocks, but he sensed the force of the current was great enough to entrap huge chunks of coral reef, or lava rocks, or icebergs – anything was possible.
At last the violent shaking ceased and the external noise was replaced by the urgent ringing of an alarm. Geoff checked the readouts. ‘Radiation levels are high,’ he said. ‘We’re sailing through clouds of subatomic particles. I don’t think we should hang around here too long. Chen, increase the propulsion to ninety-five per cent max speed.’
‘Yes, Captain,’ said Chen, in the formal tone of a celestonaut.
‘We must be close to the middle of the vortex, like the eye of a storm,’ said Maura. ‘If we head for the point of lowest pressure, we should reach dead centre.’
‘Captain, there is blue light on right side,’ said Chen.
‘It’s probably where the radiation is coming from. It’s causing Cherenkov emission,’ said Geoff. ‘You get it with nuclear reactors underwater.’ He looked at Maura and she nodded. ‘Okay, aim for it, Chen,’ he ordered. ‘Full speed ahead.’
The forward camera showed them approaching . . . something. Geoff struggled to comprehend the image before him. It was like looking down on a fountain with the water flowing in reverse, pouring into a volcanic crater of blue lava. It was unearthly, seething and rippling with unnatural motion. Geoff shut his eyes and covered his face with his hands. He was overwhelmed by the thought it was a vision humankind was never intended to see.
The Hesperian Dilemma Page 12