Marietta just looked so wretched, so forlorn and abandoned, that it was with abrupt certainty that Ariel went on, “I want you to come with me,” she reached out her free hand towards the girl. “Do you think you can do that?”
She was ready to make other arguments, to explain that she was going to vanish and Marietta might get blamed for her disappearance. It was unnecessary. Marietta let out a heavy sob and ran towards Ariel’s outstretched hand.
“Yes,” she cried ecstatically.
Marietta clenched Ariel’s fingers in her own sweaty grip. Ariel turned her attention back to Fury, and the deep cold rose back up inside her. Fury screamed, and darkness beyond darkness crowded in from every corner of the room. Connected in a flailing chain, they plunged into oblivion.
Moments later, or years, they rose back up. The jumbled nothingness receded, pale walls and floor emerged, then bleached and hardened into a chamber like the inside of a giant eggshell decorated with melted wax. Ariel and Marietta were standing on a raised platform like a miniature plateau in the middle of this chamber, and Fury was kneeling slumped in front of Ariel, her upper arm and shoulder pulsating black around Ariel’s fingers.
A moment later, with a reedy sigh, Fury collapsed. And just as Ariel had imagined it happening in the secret bedroom beneath the streets of Rome, the Demon dissolved. Clothes and skin and bones vanished in a sludgy cascade of shadow that poured, spread … and then dissolved away to nothingness, leaving the spotless white-porcelain surface undamaged in its wake.
Well, Ariel had time to think, I did assume it was a one-way ticket.
Then the appalling cold, and lack of air, drove her to her knees.
She was dimly aware of Marietta falling alongside her, face contorted and lips turning blue, hands clawing at her neck even as they stiffened and paled under a coating of frost. Black specks shrouded Ariel’s vision.
She came close to passing out, may even have done so for a second or two. The next thing she knew, warmth – actually painful heat after the freezing fist that had clenched around her – was washing into her body and thawing her extremities. She drew a deep, ragged breath and coughed it out, her oxygen-starved brain shaking off its stupor.
“I’m very sorry,” a voice, warm and … not quite motherly, but mature and kind, spoke sourcelessly in the air. “The God-space receiving pad has not been used in an awfully long time, I was not expecting anyone to appear on it, let alone unaccompanied mortals. Imagine my surprise.”
Ariel just breathed, and worked feeling back into her hands and feet and face, for a few moments. Huddled beside her, Marietta’s breath rasped in and sobbed out steadily.
“I hope the atmosphere and temperature are more hospitable now,” the voice said. “I have been in stowage-standby for an extended period, and only my emergency systems allowed me to establish an environmental bubble for you. You are fortunate the gravity was already set, or else … well, considering the angle at which I am resting…”
Ariel pushed herself up. The platform was still painfully cold, even if it was no longer frigid enough to stick to skin. It too, in a difficult-to-define way, seemed to be warming from the outside inwards.
“Are you the starship Destarion?” she asked weakly.
“I am the Category 9 Convoy Defence Platform Destarion,” the voice said, just a little sternly. “I am no starship,” it paused for a moment. “And … you’ll pardon me, but what are you?” it – she – went on. “Did you ride a Demon here?”
“I suppose we did,” Ariel said.
“And then you made it evaporate upon arrival,” the Destarion said. “Sparing me the effort of clearing it away. I appreciate that…?”
The question, so surreally like a polite enquiry over a cup of tea, hung in the air.
“Ariel,” Ariel said. “Ariel Vandemar. And this is Marietta…” she paused, but Marietta was still cowering. “This is my friend Marietta,” she concluded, putting a reassuring hand on the girl’s back. Marietta tensed, but went on breathing raggedly without further sound.
“I see,” the Destarion said. “So you brought a human. That was prudent.”
Well, I really only brought her because I didn’t want to leave her behind to get in trouble or have a mental breakdown, Ariel almost said, but held her tongue. It wasn’t as if ‘mental breakdown’ was necessarily off the table, after all. And they hadn’t been the only reasons, had they?
“I am the Pinian First Disciple,” she said, climbing to her feet.
“I see,” the Destarion said again.
“Well, I’m … not quite the First Disciple,” Ariel felt obligated to clarify. “I’ve been in disguise as a human for a long time and apparently it’s sort of stuck. But she’s in here somewhere. That’s how I got the Demon to bring us here.”
“Oh, is that how you did it?” the Destarion said. “How interesting. There I was thinking–”
Marietta chose this moment to start wailing aiutami, Signore over and over, and that was when Ariel realised her interface was dead. Well, of course it was – she was considerably outside network bank range, and other than the brave glow of its back-light it was devoid of content and systems. The technology was simply not designed to be used outside the atmosphere of planet Earth.
“Marietta, Marietta, it’s okay, I’m here, it’s okay,” Ariel said soothingly, crouching back down to put a hand on her shoulder. She tried a few stilted words in Italian even though she was painfully aware that the girl had probably absorbed more British and American dialects from popular culture than Ariel had managed to pick up Italian from her flitting visits to hotels and fashion shows.
“Where are?” Marietta whimpered, clutching to her. “My Ariel my, where are?”
“Shh, it’s okay,” she said, and stroked Marietta’s hair. She raised her eyes. “Do you think you could see your way to translating for her?” she asked the Godfang. “You obviously speak British.”
“Of course,” the Destarion said, “I have learned all of your fractured languages over the years since you resumed broadcasting them – that is why I led with your predominant assumed dialect – although … speaking to both of you in two separate languages is going to be cumbersome. Why did you stop speaking Xidh?”
“That was probably the collapse of civilisation,” Ariel said, “which I think was mostly our fault.”
“Yes,” the Godfang said, her voice becoming a little stern again. “My Flesh-Eater, and Moskin and Blacknettle, have told me some of this. And the rest, I have picked up–”
Ariel raised a hand. “Did you say ‘Flesh-Eater’?”
“A small component craft, placed on the other side of the veil and acting as a mobile research facility for Moskin and Blacknettle,” the Destarion explained. “We have been doing the best we could, but have only recently established meaningful communication. Is there really much point in saying all of this in Italian?”
“I can say British,” Marietta spoke up bravely.
“Excellent,” the Destarion approved, and Ariel gave Marietta an encouraging pat.
“The only person we heard about from the outside was someone called Stormburg,” Ariel ventured.
“Yes,” the Destarion said, sounding even more pleased. “Moskin Stormburg. Of the Áea.”
“If you say so.”
“So you are quite well connected,” the Destarion went on, “all things considered.”
“I … guess?” Ariel said, and rose back to her feet, helping Marietta up. “The main reason I came here was because … okay, it’s a really long story.”
“Let me see how much of it I can tell you,” the Godfang said. Away in the distance on the far side of the ‘God-space receiving pad’ chamber, a tunnel gaped open like a mouth. Marietta cowered against Ariel, but stayed by her side as she stepped off the platform and headed for the door. “The Pinian Disciples became human, and were lost amongst the ever-increasing hordes of humans on Earth. While the populations on Venus and Mars perished–”
“Okay,
you’ve lost me already,” Ariel said. “Populations on Venus and Mars?”
“I imagine they died as suddenly as my own mortal crew,” the Destarion said casually, “due to lack of power and lack of guidance … but let us leave that for now. The Pinians were lost on Earth, until quite recently when you were reborn together into human bodies in close proximity. You met one another–”
“We were born as siblings.”
“Even better! You grew together, and you began to remember your lives as Pinians. Then, an agent of the Brotherhood – the Archangel Gabriel – arrived to guide you.”
“That’s right.”
“He told you, no doubt, what sounded like a lot of nonsense.”
“Yep.”
“Leaving out more than he left in.”
“It’s like you were there.”
“But you could not become Disciples in truth,” the Destarion went on, “could not take on your full Pinian forms and regain all of your lost memories and identities – not until the next incarnation, or the one after that.”
“Right.”
“You could gain some ground, but the real steps back to yourselves would only happen as incarnation followed incarnation.”
“Yes.”
“But you learned of the Demons, and their abilities,” the Godfang concluded, “and decided to boldly venture out here, to awaken me from my slumber and gain my support.”
“That’s more or less how it went,” Ariel replied, “only the Demons found out about us. They have some sort of ongoing feud with the Angels and Gabriel, and they wanted to take control of us when we were just beginning to reincarnate.”
“That would be unacceptable,” the Destarion declared.
“That’s what we thought. So then one of the Demons killed our sister – the Third Disciple, I suppose. Had her killed anyway,” Ariel said. “And so I left it to the Second Disciple to hunt him down, and I brought the other Demon out here to switch you back on. Incidentally killing the Demon in the process.”
“And very well done it was.”
“Uh, thanks. We have … um, devices,” Ariel said, uncertainly, and shrugged her pack heavily up and down on her back. “Well, I have one, and there was another one that got stolen, and there are a few in half-finished … you probably don’t care.”
“I’m interested,” the voice said. “Care might be an overstatement at the moment.”
“It was made by Roon – our sister – the Third Disciple, I suppose,” Ariel said. “It’s supposed to receive energy that you beam to Earth from … I don’t know where, from your power generators or from somewhere outside the veil entirely,” she laughed self-consciously, struggling against a sudden stab of grief. “It just looks like a sort of round bronze thing with a hole on one side and a couple of handles. We used to say this stuff was past the Thingy Barrier,” she explained. “I don’t understand it.”
“Few people do,” the Destarion sympathised.
“But they’re meant to take that power and convert it to a form we can use in industry and stuff, on Earth,” Ariel went on, “so we can stop burning chemicals and ruining the atmosphere and poisoning ourselves.”
“Is that how you have been running things over there?” the Godfang said, not sounding as though she was particularly bothered. “Well, let us hope this does not prove to be too little, too late,” they stepped through into the tunnel, and followed it around and gently upwards, until they emerged into another chamber. This one did not even have the platform in the centre to break up the waxy monotony, and another opening bubbled wide in the opposite wall. “The next chamber is a … transportation module,” the Destarion explained. “It will take you to the main interface and control area where you will be able to affect a partial power-up.”
“Partial?” Ariel blinked.
“Well, yes,” the Destarion said. “I have no crew. But I feel confident I will be able to activate a small power conduit and feed energy to these devices your … Sister … invented,” the warm voice said. “Here,” she went on as they stepped into the smaller room and the entrance melted closed, “would you like to talk to Moskin?”
“I … alright,” Ariel stammered. “Will we be able to understand each other?”
“I will translate,” the Godfang said placidly. “But rest assured that the voice is actually his.”
Ariel hadn’t thought to even question that until the Destarion told her not to worry about it, and she immediately found the suspicion impossible to dismiss. She and Marietta shuffled out of the transport pod together and entered a slightly more impressive room. This one was dominated by a great pale crescent of what might be control panels, interspersed with larger things like blocks of computers or other machines. There were also–
Ariel pulled back with a curse, and Marietta cowered and screamed again. “You said there weren’t any crew!”
“Oh, them,” the Destarion said, and the rank of gaunt, terrifyingly alien figures swayed like kelp in their white rags, “no, those are not crew. They are a different type of Flesh-Eater – internal maintenance and security – and they are quite inactive,” the things swayed again, and Ariel realised the Godfang must be doing it to prove they were inactive, rather than to make it look like they weren’t. “Nothing to worry about. I will remove them.”
The line of pallid alien figures suddenly vanished into the seamless floor, which only made Ariel more alarmed because now she couldn’t see them. At the same time, one of the two-metre tower-blocks opened like a wardrobe. A faint mist wafted out, but Ariel and Marietta were still hanging back by the transport pod so it was impossible to tell what was in there.
“What is?” Marietta quavered.
At this, the Destarion launched into a rapid-fire diatribe of ostensibly reassuring-sounding Italian. Ariel picked out words like ‘relax’, ‘transport’, ‘home’, and ‘talk’.
“Missing a lot of this,” Ariel said.
“I apologise,” the Destarion said, “I was just explaining to Marietta that the capsule you see is specially designed for her comfort. It will help her to be calm, and will enable us to communicate better, it will enable communication with Moskin and Blacknettle, and then it will transport her back to Earth.”
“Wait, really?” Ariel blinked.
“Demons can do it,” the Godfang said in injured tones, “what makes you think I can’t?”
“Does she have to go in there?” Ariel asked, as they sidled forwards and Marietta clung to her in panic.
“Of course not,” the Destarion said. “If she is claustrophobic, we can arrange a larger interface chamber.”
“It’s just that you said you needed a crew,” Ariel said, “and when I arrived you mentioned how lucky it was that I’d brought a human.”
“Well, yes,” the Destarion replied. “I cannot activate without human control. It is a condition of my service. And that includes establishing a power conduit for you. But once she has done her duty as temporary crewmember, I will send her home.”
Home to get arrested for abducting me, Ariel thought sadly. “What about me?” she asked. “Can’t she stay here with me?”
“Yes,” Marietta said quickly, “yes yes, yes, I stay. I stay with my Ariel.”
“Your case is a little different,” the Destarion said delicately, “but I can send you both back to Earth at the same time, just not through the transport system – unless, as I say, I arrange for a larger one. It could complicate the transition … perhaps we should discuss it in private?”
“Okay,” Ariel said, and stroked Marietta until she calmed down again. “It will be okay,” she said, guiding her towards the open wardrobe. “You’ll be safe. You go in there, and we get this ship working–”
“Platform,” the Destarion said snippily.
“Sorry. Just … go in, and I’ll see you again in a second,” Ariel coaxed. “Don’t worry. I’m just going to talk to the platform, and then we’ll be together again. And then we both go home. Alright?”
Ski
ttish, Marietta crept into the chamber. As soon as Ariel extricated herself and stepped back, the pale bulk swept closed again and there was silence in the control room.
“Now,” the Destarion said a few tense moments later, “I will activate the necessary systems. Oh,” she added with a little catch in her voice, “Marietta does love you so very much. How charming.”
“Okay,” Ariel said uncertainly. “I … guess I knew that, but – I thought we were going to talk to this Stormburg bloke.”
“Yes,” the Destarion said serenely, “I am establishing a connection now. Moskin was indisposed. He is growing frail in his old age, and needs to rest more and more. And the Flesh – the vessel he is in was rather severely damaged.”
There was a long silence, and then a feeble, querulous voice sounded from the same sourceless system as the Godfang’s communications. “Hello? Revered Firstmade?”
“Hello,” Ariel said. “Moskin Stormburg?”
“Yes,” the voice – Ariel decided to treat it as a new entity and try to ignore the idea that it was just the Destarion pretending for some unfathomable reason – quavered with excitement. “It is an honour to speak to you. Unless … they tell me you are the First Disciple. If you are the Second Disciple, it is an honour to speak to you again.”
“First,” Ariel said apologetically, “and not fully focussed yet, I’m afraid.”
“But the Second Disciple is … well?”
“Last I checked,” Ariel said. “We were all born as siblings this time around, and Ash is … according to Gabriel she’s pretty much what he expected from the Second Disciple.”
“You were born together – you met the Archangel – you–” Moskin choked to silence, then let out a dry cackle that was a little alarming to hear. “I have had so long to think of which questions to ask,” he said.
“You’d think you’d be better prepared to ask them,” Ariel commiserated. “Actually, Gabriel said the same thing.”
“Indeed!”
“I understand we have you to … thank … for getting us this far,” Ariel went on. “What exactly are you a professor of, to wind up–”
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