AWOL

by Traci Harding

  ‘As in the unexplored planet AMIE is hovering over?’ Ringbalin was uneasy, yet intrigued.

  ‘It’s been explored,’ Taren assured him, ‘just not in this timeline.’

  ‘Oh,’ Ringbalin rethought his response. ‘Huh?’

  But Taren had teleported herself to a higher point on the rock formation, where she could see over the tundrells. From this vantage point the view was so devastating she had to sit down.

  ‘What is it?’ Ringbalin called, and when she could not respond straight away, he started climbing up the rock face to see for himself.

  The rainbow coloured electrical storm that always raged here was raining fiery debris down all over the pristine planet.

  ‘Is that AMIE?’ Ringbalin begged her opinion, now that he’d climbed high enough to witness the spectacle.

  ‘I’m afraid so.’ She clenched her jaw, as she gazed at the place where Zeven and Mythric’s hut had once been, that was now crushed under what was left of the marine module.

  ‘Is that a hut?’ Ringbalin queried about the spot holding Taren’s interest. ‘No, please don’t say that’s where —’ He choked up, as she nodded.

  ‘Perhaps the Valoureans found them before they brought the ship down?’ Taren didn’t know what scenario was more terrible.

  ‘What are we going to do?’ It took a lot to drive Ringbalin to despair, but he was just about there.

  ‘We investigate,’ Taren said coolly and holding an image of their vessel in her mind she willed it to reform and repair.

  All the wreckage ceased to fall and instead rose from the ground twice as swiftly as it had descended, and disappeared up beyond the spectacular storm.

  ‘Holy shit, boss!’ Ringbalin’s sorrow turned to excitement, as he watched the trashed hut restore itself to its former glory. ‘Did you just reconstruct our entire ship?’

  ‘I hope so.’ Taren teleported herself down to his ledge, then grabbing him, she returned them to the base, where they found Trance stirring from his snooze.

  ‘You can turn off the shower, I’m awake,’ he mumbled.

  ‘Wish granted.’ Taren teleported them all to inside the hut.

  ‘Well,’ Ringbalin wiped the water from his face and looked around the place. ‘No dead bodies, that’s a good sign.’

  ‘Dead bodies?’ Trance rousted himself off the floor, where he’d landed. ‘What is it with you two and dead people?’ He looked around, then got to his feet, and wandered outside onto the porch. ‘Where are we?’ He stood in awe of the pouring rain — never seen on Sermetica. ‘We are on another planet?’ He processed his situation. ‘This is nuts!’ He turned back to them. ‘But in a good way,’ he said as Taren moved to search the other rooms. ‘Wow! Your girlfriend is pretty amazing.’

  ‘She is my boss,’ Ringbalin advised. ‘Her husband is the man we left back in the crypt.’

  ‘How interesting,’ he said, with a grin, before he was startled by something Ringbalin failed to see. ‘Ah! Not you again! Go away!’ He backed down the porch. ‘You can’t have my body.’

  ‘Is the captain here?’ Ringbalin guessed Lucian would be the jealous type, even when dead.

  ‘Just tell me what you want to say, I’m happy to pass it on,’ Trance stressed, having skirted around the end of the porch, before running up to hide behind Ringbalin.

  ‘What’s he saying?’ Taren joined them near the balcony exit.

  ‘Shush up and I’ll tell you.’ Trance focused on a spot by Taren, frowning as he listened.

  ‘Well I don’t know,’ Trance replied to Lucian’s ghost, ‘I’ve never actually tried — Well, yes I’m a medium,’ he defended, ‘but I’ve not had much cause to develop my talents until recently, when they were decriminalised on Sermetica.’

  ‘What is the captain saying?’ Taren grew impatient listening to Trance debate the issue.

  ‘He wants me to try and tap into the atomic memory of this place, and see if I can pick up on what transpired here.’ Trance seemed willing to give it a shot.

  ‘Sounds good.’ Taren was a little surprised that Lucian had come up with that solution. ‘You are full of surprises, my love.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Trance accepted the compliment. ‘Oh sorry,’ he ducked to defend himself as he withdrew his acceptance. ‘Ah, the captain would like to say he has been doing some research into his Powers, and that he shall also see what he can pick up psychometrically.’

  Taren grinned in approval. ‘Any leads at this point would be most appreciated.’

  ‘Right then.’ Trance slapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously. ‘Let’s see what we can see.’ He closed his eyes, held his hands out and, fingers splayed, he used them as detectors in a search for residual thought forms strong enough to have left an impression on the atomic memory of this place.

  ‘Wow!’ He stopped still, facing outwards in the doorway of the porch. ‘Do you see that?’

  ‘What?’ Taren looked out and saw nothing but the rain.

  ‘Shush,’ Trance insisted, ‘I’m talking to the captain!’

  ‘My bad,’ Taren stepped back, ‘but what do y—’

  ‘What part of shush do you not understand?’ Trance relaxed once more, and continued to focus out front with his eyes closed. ‘What is that phosphorescent blue stuff?’

  Taren had to bite her tongue; how she wished for second sight right now, or even telepathy, so that she could see what he was seeing.

  ‘It’s like liquid light pouring out of that guy? Is he dead?’ Trance continued to confabulate with the captain. ‘Whoa!’ He wavered on his feet and fell down onto one knee. ‘Feels like an earthquake? Have to get out.’ He staggered up, and crossing the porch, he hurried down the steps and into the water.

  Taren and Ringbalin followed him out and stopped on the stairs to observe Trance turn about to face them.

  Eyes still closed, his expression filled with wonder as he slowly looked up. ‘Fuck me,’ he uttered in awe, before snapping out of his daze and opening his eyes.

  Taren was about to question him when Trance looked aside, and she realised he was still consulting with Lucian.

  ‘What do you mean I’m looking the wrong way?’ the medium posed to his invisible cohort. ‘What epicentre?’ Trance’s attention turned to a large flat rock. ‘I can’t see any portal!’ he emphasised. ‘It could be a door to the afterlife; if you go through it then there may be no coming back?’

  ‘Wait a second!’ Taren couldn’t refrain any more, and headed downstairs to walk across the water’s surface to crouch before the medium and draw his attention. ‘What’s going on?’

  Trance held out a hand to stall her interruption. ‘Well, maybe your friends are dead too?’ He paused to hear an argument, still holding Taren at bay. ‘I haven’t seen what death looks like, so I couldn’t say for sure —’ He rolled his eyes, and placed hands on hips to consider whatever he was being told. ‘What the fuck is an etheric quake?’

  ‘Hello?’ Taren couldn’t wait any longer to be briefed.

  ‘The captain believes there’s been an etheric quake here, whatever in the name of science, that is. He says the rift between the worlds is still open, and he intends to go through the portal and investigate.’

  ‘No way!’ Taren objected.

  ‘He’s fairly certain,’ Trance continued, one ear listening to the information being fed to him, ‘that your missing team members have all been drawn into another world, that he believes is …’ He paused at the punchline, seemingly finding it unbelievable.

  ‘Trance?’ Taren strongly urged him to continue.

  A little fazed by the news, the young man’s sights met hers. ‘The captain believes it is the lost world of the Old Ones.’

  Taren’s jaw dropped. ‘We found it … by facing our greatest fear.’ In cosmic terms, it made perfect sense.

  ‘He says he has to go through.’ Trance passed on Lucian’s resolve, and before she could object he added, ‘Were the situation reversed, what would you do?’

&nbs
p; Every argument Taren could think was rendered redundant, and she wasn’t happy about it. ‘What if the portal closes and you are trapped there? What if it’s not what you think?’

  ‘Oh no.’ Trance began backing away, and going stiff as a board, his body spasmed and disappeared underwater.

  ‘Trance?’ Taren went after him and pulled him up out of the water.

  ‘I’m right about this,’ he said in Lucian’s voice, completely unaffected by the water. ‘Lose your fear, and then tell me what I should do?’

  It was odd seeing Lucian’s countenance being worn by another, but she knew that expression all too well; he was not taking no for an answer. ‘You should go,’ she resolved, knowing if the situation were reversed he would not be able to stop her. ‘Exploring new worlds was originally AMIE’s primary objective.’

  Taren was a little affronted when Trance unexpectedly kissed her, and she near slapped him for it.

  ‘Sorry, I forgot I’m not myself.’ He stepped back, hands raised in truce. ‘I’ll go after Zeven and co, you focus on retrieving the rest of the crew.’

  ‘So you are sure the Valoureans didn’t get Thurraya?’ Taren was relieved when Trance nodded.

  ‘They’re still right here, I suspect, in a city that exists on a higher vibratory level.’

  ‘Like Phemoria’s celestial city.’ Taren knew the parallel in this case was significant. ‘Maybe Zeven was right about Khalid?’

  ‘There is only one way to find out.’ He grinned in conclusion. ‘Go then,’ she said with a tinge of jealousy, and yet managed to roust a smile.

  He moved in closer to her once again.

  ‘If you kiss me,’ Taren warned.

  ‘Nah.’ He waved off the premise as if thinking nothing of the sort. ‘I just need you to hold this body so it doesn’t drown as I vacate.’ He grinned, and with a finger beckoned her closer.

  ‘Urgh,’ Taren grumbled as Trance hugged her, but she felt Lucian’s familiar aura, which was a welcome comfort at the close of his endless day of woe.

  ‘See you on the flip side.’ He kissed her cheek, and Trance’s form became a dead weight in her arms.

  ‘You come on back.’ Taren swung around to face the large rock that had been pinpointed as the epicentre of the tear between worlds, but there was nothing to see or hear but the pouring rain. ‘Well, at least this one has stopped freaking out.’ She looked back to Trance, sleeping like a baby in her arms.

  ‘So I guess it’s just us now, huh?’ Ringbalin came down the stairs to give her a hand to drag Trance out of the water.

  ‘Looks that way,’ she conceded, as Ringbalin grabbed up half the weight she was carrying.

  ‘Where to from here?’ he wondered.

  ‘Let’s go see what kind of a job I did putting AMIE back together, shall we?’

  Ringbalin gave that idea the big nod.

  ‘I don’t know how anything living will have survived the demolition,’ she forewarned.

  Ringbalin forced a smile, probably grateful for anything they could salvage from the day’s devastating events — as she was. ‘I’d be happy just to see my bed.’

  Taren let loose an exhausted laugh, in total accord with his reasoning. ‘Hear, hear.’

  The only word to describe the atmosphere inside the restored AMIE vessel was sterile. The ship’s interior was more perfectly clean than it had been the minute it had been completed — for it had always had an element of feeling lived in, even when it was under construction. All the fixtures, fittings and systems were repaired and in perfect working order, but nothing organic survived. All the paper, bedding, pictures, and little knick-knacks were missing, and as Taren passed through she manifested the things she noted absent, but still, it was all as-new. Only now that they were missing did Taren realise that she’d never really noticed the decorations, and so could not accurately replace them. She was really only concerned with replacing things that were essential to their survival, as this place would never feel like home until all their crew were safely back on board.

  ‘I don’t hold high hopes for the greenhouse,’ Ringbalin proffered, as he accompanied Taren from the medical labs in Module A, where they had left Trance sleeping.

  Via the quickest route, through Module B, they were on their way through to check on the situation in Module C — as the greenhouse was vital to AMIE’s long-term independence and survival.

  ‘Oh damn.’ Ringbalin passed through the double glass sliding door to observe the barren bio-module that pretty much appeared the way it had when he’d first walked into it. ‘Years of tending, reduced to space dust.’

  ‘Now before you get angry and I implode …’ Taren humoured him; and although the joke did not rouse a smile, he calmed to hear her out. ‘I’ve spent so much time wandering around this module with you … allow me to have a stab at recreating it.’

  Ringbalin dared to crack a smile. ‘Do you think that’s possible?’

  Taren raised both brows in question and closing her eyes to consult her memory, she began to move through the module.

  ‘Holy microbes, Taren, you’re doing it!’ He trailed her, grinning with delight as his garden began to reappear all around him.

  ‘I can’t really do much about your seedling rooms,’ she regretted to say as they reached the far end of the module where his nursery was located, beneath the weather control tower. ‘I don’t know what you were growing in there.’

  Ringbalin waved it off as a minor inconvenience, distracted by some of the plants she had manifested from memory. ‘Goodness!’ Upon closer inspection he was intrigued. ‘I think you might have created a few new species here. I’ve never seen a blood orchid flower blue before.’

  ‘Blue-blood,’ Taren joked. ‘PK is not an exact science; shall I change it?’

  ‘No!’ Ringbalin stressed, and then smiled. ‘Or anything else. Gosh knows what else you’ve conjured up, but I can’t wait to find out.’ His expression turned mournful. ‘Once I get the chance to get back to cultivating, that is.’

  Taren backed up and took a seat on the stairs leading up to the weather control tower, where Ringbalin had also set up house — he had crew quarters but never used them. ‘Yah … we have a whole lot to achieve before then.’ The magnitude of the chore made her head ache.

  ‘When was the last time you slept?’ He came to sit beside her.

  ‘I’ve been on so many different planets today, it’s a bit difficult to keep track of the time.’ She yawned and rested her heavy head on his shoulder, then she made the fatal mistake of closing her eyes.

  ‘Well, I think it’s time …’ Ringbalin’s suggestion was the last thing Taren’s brain registered before it shut down.

  PART 3

  TRANSCENDENCE

  10

  WARP SPEED

  Mission Log — Day (only the universe knows?)

  It appears time itself has gone AWOL, as according to my calculations it should be about nine days since I returned to AMIE from the universe parallel. Yet as I have been drawn into another world where time functions differently I am told that months, or even years, may have expired at home in the short time we have been here in Karmandi — the city of the Dropa.

  This is a worry, as about three years from when I arrived back on AMIE — the day after my daughter Ray’s ninth birthday — I must be on AMIE to run a mission that I have already quantum-jumped to execute during my last mission in the universe parallel. Telmo’s involvement is required also. I have no idea what kind of effect not making that appointment will have on this universe or the last. But trying to explain the concept of an urgent appointment to beings with no concept of time is something of a farce.

  These Dropa appear not at all like the beings of the same name that I met during my stint as Ji Song in ancient China. But then Dorje Pema had explained that those Dropa had altered their genetic structure to adapt to the conditions of planet Earth. Rather than tiny childlike beings — as the Dropa of Earth had been — these entities appear far more human. They a
re more subtle in form than we are — they waft around in a colourful vaporous haze, and assume a spirit form only to converse and mingle with us. The same could be said of their entire city, which appears solid and present to us visitors, but apparently it is not the solid construct that we perceive it to be. The one thing these Dropa do have in common with the Dropa of ancient Earth is that their psychic aptitude is beyond compare. They know everything about us, in fact they know more about us than we do.

  As for Khalid’s connection to these Old Ones — I could not have imagined the full extent of it. It has also become apparent that not only was my gut instinct to run this mission correct, but that every move I have made was completely pre-determined.

  Once the intense etheric light of their passage ebbed and the ground ceased to tremble, the wilds of Oceane had been replaced by a spacious futuristic shrine and the clean aesthetic inspired calm in the wake of their dimension shift.

  The basic peripheral construct was an elongated circle that was open to the sky in the centre; thus, the first thing that was immediately noticeable was the deep indigo-coloured atmosphere beyond, completely clear of cloud. Fashioned from smooth white stone, the monument appeared so brilliant it glowed. In the moulded, wavelike architecture there were no joins — every surface opening and inset appeared to have been sculpted out of the one piece of enormous rock. The purpose of the beautiful edifice was not immediately clear as there were no idols, symbols or other motifs to implicate a place of worship. The dwelling seemed just a tranquil space from which to observe the idyllic countryside and ocean beyond.

  Zeven and the rest of his men had landed on a circular platform located beneath the open centre of the arching ceiling, and this island was separated from the outer temple by a channel of clear water. The only object that appeared to have been dragged through into this world with them was the large block that they had laid Khalid upon.

  ‘Why do you think this came with us?’ Zeven queried Telmo, as they and Ahura jumped off the slab and onto the central platform — Khalid was still passed out.