The third research dome collapsed under a sterilization burst.
“All specimens had to be destroyed,” Tom Rom explained to her. “We can’t let the black robots and the Shana Rei turn them against the human race.”
“Such a loss,” Zoe said. “But that is why we designed the emergency protocols.” She had the utmost confidence in him, but her heart was heavy. She felt as if she were leaving a significant part of her soul behind.
As he raced away, Tom Rom’s face was drawn, his jaws clenched, his focus hyperacute. He flew the ship as she had never seen anyone fly before. After he had gone more than a hundred kilometers away from the Pergamus outpost, racing low over the bleak and rugged landscape, he angled upward in a steep climb. He spoke clipped words in the high Gs. “I hope we’re far enough from that shadow cloud so our ship can reach orbit. From there, I’ll activate the stardrive and get you out of here.”
In the chase, he had eluded many robots, but more followed, sticking close with a ruthless mechanical determination. Another fifty robot vessels dove through the sky, closing in on this one insignificant ship. Zoe wondered why they felt she and Tom Rom were so important … or maybe they just didn’t want to let even a single target escape.
Tom Rom gambled, adjusted the fuel supply in their engines, then dumped part of the reserve into the reactor chamber, which gave his vessel an unexpected turbo boost. He lurched ahead of the robot ships, disorienting them. Their energy blasts went wild—but even more robots swooped in front of them just as their ship reached the edge of the atmosphere. The robots opened fire, and Tom Rom couldn’t dodge them all. A blast struck the starboard engine, and an explosion rocked the compartment. Shrapnel and deck debris flew in all directions. Zoe cried out, holding on to her seat.
Tom Rom struggled to keep flying. His hands raced over the controls, activating emergency systems. “Just a minor hull breach,” he said. “I’ve sealed it from the outside with an automated slider plate, but we’ve lost one engine. My speed will drop unless we can get to high orbit.”
“They’re coming too fast for that,” she said.
The robot ships closed in with a vengeance, sensing a kill, and Zoe didn’t think they were going to let Tom Rom have his way.
Behind them, she saw the shadow cloud swelling into the Pergamus atmosphere as if it thrived on the poisonous gases. The nebula looked like a sluggish sea creature, an ebony starfish folding over the remaining domes of Pergamus as if it meant to absorb them.
Another sterilization blast finished its countdown and seared a hole through the shadow cloud, but the Shana Rei quickly healed the gap and pressed forward.
More robots closed in on their fleeing ship as Tom Rom soared at high acceleration up to the fringe of space. Zoe saw with astonishment that he had tears pouring down his face, and she knew he was heartbroken, convinced that he had failed her. She wanted to reach out and clasp his shoulder, or maybe just hold him if they were both going to be vaporized.
But he hadn’t given up yet—and so neither would she.
He blinked and stared ahead, abruptly changing course. “What the hell?”
Space in front of them was suddenly filled with flying objects, huge gray-green organic nodules with broad wings. Breathtakingly huge organic mantas swooped in, appearing out of the interplanetary emptiness, flying on bizarre extended flaps that somehow caught light or cosmic rays, or just sailed on ripples of gravity manipulated by their own internal forces.
“Bloaters!” Tom Rom said. “I’ve heard of the metamorphosis, but…”
Like a flock of strange flying plankton, the transformed nodules closed in to attack the shadow cloud.
CHAPTER
100
ADAR ZAN’NH
Solar Navy warliners and CDF ships gathered at the verge of the dimensional opening, where colorful nebula gases streamed down into the blackest trapdoor of the universe.
As the fleet waited on the brink, Adar Zan’nh stood at the rail of the command nucleus. His crew betrayed anxiety and tension, but he made a physical effort to draw the strongest strands of his own thism to shore up the confidence of his fighters.
From the Kutuzov, General Keah transmitted, “You ready for this, Z?” She showed him a cocky, determined grin, but he saw her swallow hard.
“Once more into the breach,” Anton Colicos muttered in the command nucleus. Zan’nh did not recognize it as a quote from the Saga of Seven Suns.
He reminded himself of the massacre at Wythira, the battles he and Keah had faced at the Onthos system, the surprise Shana Rei attack at Plumas, the destruction of the Hiltos Lightsource shrine, the mindless mob uprisings in Mijistra … all the terrible things the poisonous shadows had done to the Ildiran race.
He was angry enough. He was strong. “It must be done.” The Solar Navy and the CDF would strike a blow for revenge—a significant one, he hoped. He said to his entire maniple, “Forward. All helmsmen, match speed into the void and keep our forces together. General Keah, will you join us?”
“You bet your ass, Z.”
He frowned. “I have no intention of making such a wager, but I understand what you are saying.”
The ships entered the void. Zan’nh braced himself, and his crew fell silent, holding their breath. Rememberer Anton’s eyes were full of fascination. Even the log recordings from Kotto Okiah’s expedition gave only sketchy data about what lay inside that vast empty dimension. But if the Shana Rei went to ground there, it was a chance for the Solar Navy and the CDF to strike a mortal blow.…
Once they crossed the threshold into that darker universe, Zan’nh felt the immediate change around him. It wasn’t that the strike force was lost, but after the warliners crossed into the void, he no longer felt connected to the overall thism network. The Mage-Imperator was always there with strength and confidence that every Ildiran could feel. Here in this void, suddenly Adar Zan’nh and the Solar Navy crewmembers went deaf to the rest of their race. They could only feel the group of soldiers accompanying them.
It would have to be enough.
He transmitted across the open comm lines to all Solar Navy ships. “Be reassured. We are here, and we are intact. Though we may be cut off from the thism outside, we have our own thoughts and strength. There are more than enough of us to share our mutual energy. We will keep each other strong. I will keep you strong.” He raised his voice. “We must move forward and destroy the darkness.”
General Keah transmitted from the Kutuzov, “We’re here too, Z. All for one, and one for all.”
Their sensors became strangely disoriented, without any anchor points or reference guidelines. The sensor technicians scrambled to adjust, but their dismay was clear.
“Our ships can use one another as reference points,” Zan’nh declared. “We will establish our own orientation. That is all we need to know.”
“We need external images for the historical record,” said Rememberer Anton.
On the Juggernaut’s bridge, Kotto Okiah’s two young lab assistants stood near the General. Howard said, “Even without reliable points of reference, we can maintain our relative positions. As long as our navigation systems keep track of where we’re going, we should be able to find our way back out.”
“We’ll drop breadcrumb buoys as well,” Shareen added. “That’s what Kotto did.”
The Solar Navy and CDF ships forged into the confusing nothingness. By instinct, Ildirans were repulsed and terrified by the absence of light, but this tactic might be the only way they could strike at the heart of the darkness—the only way they could go directly to the Shana Rei.
“Align our course with the records taken by Kotto Okiah’s survey craft,” Zan’nh said. “Keep our weapons ready.”
“And your eyes open,” Keah added.
He didn’t know what would happen if a firefight occurred in this bizarre antidimension. If the strike force had to scramble in retreat, would they be able to race back to the opening and escape into the Fireheart nebula?
; The Kutuzov’s green priest shook his head. “I can’t use telink. My treeling can’t find the rest of the verdani mind. I don’t like it in here.” Nadd sniffled.
The emptiness around them was breathtaking and oppressive. The void’s complete homogeneity was unsettling, and they flew onward for an unmeasurable distance—until finally they encountered a change in the smooth blackness, where knots and cracks of a deeper darkness were overlaid upon the emptiness. This was what Kotto had found.
“Heads up. I think that’s what we’re looking for,” called General Keah. “It certainly seems suspicious.”
Zan’nh studied the readings displayed on the sensor screens, seeing a different sort of blackness etched upon midnight. He was sure he could see dark objects, geometrical shapes. As the combined fleet approached, the resolution grew clearer.
Shana Rei hex cylinders.
He drew a deep breath. “Yes, I believe this is it.”
Ahead in the strange distorted field of the void he could discern the long sharp-edged manifestations of the creatures of darkness, like broken black lines against the membrane of the void, scattered about in a number that was difficult to count.
“They look like the bodies of crushed spiders,” Keah said. “And I don’t like spiders.”
Zan’nh compared them to the shadows of shadows, imprints on the void from a much more powerful presence in realspace. By now, the strike force was coming up from the unprotected flank of the Shana Rei.
Zan’nh said, “I am concerned that our presence might alert them, particularly these electromagnetic communications.”
Keah rallied her CDF ships as well. “You’re right, Z. They haven’t noticed us yet, so this is our chance. I say we let the Shana Rei bastards have it with everything we’ve got. It is supposed to be a surprise attack, after all.”
Zan’nh didn’t hesitate. This was the reason they had come. “I agree.” He transmitted to all of his warliners. “Prepare laser cannons and sun bombs. We will blanket their ships and hope that it hurts them.”
“Hell, let’s hope that it kills them.” Keah called out to her ships, “Commanders, bombs away!”
The CDF ships and the forty-nine warliners opened fire on the unsuspecting Shana Rei. Laser cannons blazed with a flash and crackle, weaving a tapestry of coherent light inside the void. Gunports spewed out sun bomb after sun bomb, hundreds deployed even before the first ones detonated, all of them targeting the ill-defined cluster of crushed-spider artifacts. Purifying light flared out in a cascading shout; blaze built upon blaze.
The Solar Navy ships wheeled about as sun-bomb detonations seared across the void. “General, I suggest we pull back to a safe distance so we can assess,” Zan’nh said. “We don’t know the consequences of what we just did.” His warliners withdrew with all possible speed, so they could watch.
The CDF ships raced after the warliners as they withdrew, and General Keah gave a long, loud whoop of delight.
CHAPTER
101
TAMO’L
As the attack on Pergamus continued and the black robots tore into the research domes, Tamo’l remained alone in her isolated facility. The robot attackers had not found her yet … or maybe they were intentionally ignoring her, since the Shana Rei had already contaminated her.
Tamo’l felt sick, certain that the dark mental link through her mind had drawn the attention of the shadows. They had slithered into her thoughts, forced her to reveal the countless disease specimens kept at Pergamus. That was why they had invaded here. She could feel it.
Overhead, the shadow cloud knotted the poisonous sky, and tendrils of darkness reached down to smother what remained of the medical facility. Tamo’l could feel an icy hollowness in her heart, knowing she wouldn’t survive. Even with her supposedly impervious halfbreed genetics, the Shana Rei had found a way inside her. They had looked through her eyes. They had used her hands and her mind to find the secret stockpile of death.
Nearby, a research dome self-destructed with a silent bright flash of searing gamma rays that annihilated everything within the blast radius—disease specimens, personnel, and any black robots in the kill zone. In her own dome, she could see the countdown dropping to zero. Within minutes her lab would be vaporized, too.
At least she wouldn’t be able to cause further damage.
Just before the shadow cloud covered the domes like a giant hand, Tamo’l saw the skies filled with battle, swirling robot ships and flashes of weapons fire as a lone vessel tried to escape—Tom Rom, she wondered? Probably.
Then she experienced a moment of confusion and surprise when other creatures appeared high overhead—swift and swollen, bloaters in their flying phase with flat wings outstretched. The bloaters soared in and around the creatures of darkness, like birds of prey harrying the encroaching black nebula. The Shana Rei recoiled and fought back, but the bloaters were relentless. The strange flying creatures seemed to intimidate even the shadows.
Tamo’l glanced at the countdown. In less than a minute she would be obliterated in an instant of purifying light.
She had been born a halfbreed, developed as part of the Dobro breeding program. To make amends for the horrors she saw there, she had devoted her life to helping the leftover misbreeds, certain that they possessed some spark that the rest of the Ildiran race didn’t see. She had accomplished much for them … but not enough. Tamo’l had never imagined she would become a pawn of the Shana Rei.
She longed to know what had happened to Mungl’eh, Gor’ka, Har’lc, Alaa’kh, Pol’ux, and all the others. Had they all gotten away from Kuivahr, as Tom Rom promised? Or had they, too, been absorbed by the shadows there?
Half a minute left on the countdown. She gritted her teeth and drew deep breaths, preparing herself.
A fourth laboratory dome went down with a flash and a thump. All the deadly specimens would be eradicated in a pitiless but necessary annihilation. She knew the robots and the Shana Rei would not capture these diseases to unleash upon the Spiral Arm. Everything in Pergamus would be gone—along with her.
But the shadow cloud had a mind of its own. Formless black arms reached down to the last of the laboratory domes—her dome. Tamo’l could feel the shadows like obsidian spikes in her mind as they roiled in with a sinister swiftness. She felt them reaching around and into the dome … coming for her.
Tamo’l became airborne and disoriented, engulfed in a protective bubble. She screamed and tried to escape, but she had nowhere to go. Only seconds remained in the countdown—but the shadows had her now. They had her mind, they had her thism strands, they had her telepathic connection with Rod’h.
She heard her brother’s mental shout, cursing the Shana Rei, howling in his own pain and despair.
Then the inky pseudopod swept her away, stealing her into the shadow cloud even as the sterilization systems vaporized the dome where she had done her research. But Tamo’l was no longer there. She knew that the entire research station and disease library was destroyed, nothing left but radioactive rubble and contaminated scraps that would do no enemy any good.
Even as it retracted, the shadow cloud still fought against the merciless harassment of the flying bloaters. The black nebula collapsed, and then the entire shadow cloud withdrew into its own universe.
Where they were already under attack!
Tamo’l found herself in an empty sensory wasteland, a black entropy bubble where she drifted without any context at all. She despaired—and then she saw her brother.
Rod’h groaned. “No, not you! They should have left you alone.”
Tamo’l was glad to see him, but her joy was snuffed out like a small flame in the wind. “At least now we’re together,” she said, “and safe.”
Gigantic lights of another nearby battle slashed the protective shadows, a powerful attack … here in the void.
“Safe?” Her brother’s voice came from a great distance. “I am sorry that you are here with me—but maybe we can fight in a different way. Together.”
/> CHAPTER
102
MAGE-IMPERATOR JORA’H
Even inside the Prism Palace under the seven suns, Jora’h was lost in dreams of a darkness that rose up inside his mind. He didn’t even remember falling asleep. He and Nira had been attending a lavish midday meal surrounded by noble kith, court functionaries, and attenders. The bright sunlight seemed unduly harsh, grainy, as if molecules of blackness speckled the air around them.
Jora’h remembered looking at Nira. She had smiled at him, said something about Gale’nh, her son … and then the Mage-Imperator lost her. He lost himself. He found himself alone in his mind, swimming through a crisis, entangled and strangled by the lines of thism that should have been a safety net. Instead, the cords turned dark, like razor wires that swept around him, capturing his arms and legs, wrapping tight around his torso. Other strands encircled his neck like a garrote.
Jora’h knew he was dreaming, but that didn’t help him escape.
Far out in deep space, he could feel the throbbing strength of the awakening cosmic mind. He could sense the squirming pain among the Shana Rei as their dark nebulas collapsed and the shadows retreated into the dubious safety of an unreal void. But the creatures of darkness fought in any way they knew how.
As their shadow clouds were crushed into newborn stars, the Shana Rei struck out in other ways. They pressed for any weakness, any chink in the mental armor of the Ildiran race. Somehow, they knew how to find Mage-Imperator Jora’h.
From within, the darkness swelled and engulfed him. He was drowning in a black static of shadows. He thought about Nira’s son Rod’h, captured by the Shana Rei and placed in an endless agony of isolation that he could not endure, yet somehow did. He caught an echo of Rod’h’s screams, as well as Tamo’l’s, but as he responded with frustrated outcries that had more to do with his own helplessness than with any actual pain, he knew Rod’h couldn’t help him.
Instead, he struggled to find Gale’nh, who had once successfully resisted the shadows and was possibly immune. But Jora’h was helpless—and the shadows had him.…
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