With greater confidence, Maddox opened the hatch, quite certain he wasn’t killing everyone because there was more than simply a vacuum outside. He opened the hatch and—
-73-
Maddox blinked with incomprehension at what he saw. Billowing white fog blew across an endless expanse. He could hardly see anything, the fog was so dense. He looked down from the hatchway and did not spy any solid ground, just more of the billowing white substance.
He frowned. What did the tin can rest on then?
Inhaling, realizing he breathed air, Maddox lowered himself feet first and then twisted around, keeping a grip on the lower hatchway as he swung his feet. There was no purchase below. Thus, he hoisted himself back up into the hatchway. He looked around—
Brightness—a small area of it, approached him through the billowing white fog.
“Balron?” asked Maddox.
The brightness moved faster and became more distinct. It was a ball of light, Balron or one of his cousins perhaps.
Maddox wondered if he should draw the scatter-light gun, but waited, seeing what would happen first.
The ball of light neared and then stopped several meters from Maddox, who waited in the open hatchway.
“I wasn’t sure if this was going to work,” the ball of light said. “But clearly it did. This is excellent news indeed.”
“Who are you?”
“Don’t you trust your senses, Captain?”
“To a point,” Maddox said.
“You can breathe, so you’re obviously not in space.”
Maddox said nothing.
“If you’d take off that silly headband, it would make things much easier.”
“For whom?” asked Maddox.
The ball of light pulsated brighter. Was that its way of sighing, a show of anger or annoyance? It was impossible to know.
“Do you not understand yet?” asked the ball of light.
“Give me your name,” Maddox demanded.
“It’s Balron. We’ve talked before. I know you haven’t forgotten. I must say, you’ve proven much more stubborn than I’d anticipated.”
“You mean clever,” Maddox said.
“Stubborn, clever, it amounts to the same thing.”
“What is this place?”
“I may have done my work too well with you. You should not be so curious here. Do you not feel a weight against your mind, a drag that makes cognation difficult?”
Maddox realized he no longer heard the eerie music. What had it signified? Was it good or bad that the music had ceased? No, he didn’t find thinking difficult in the slightest.
“You are part of the simian-hominid branch of mammalian life,” Balron said. “Only the greatest of the simian-hominid adepts could remain awake in this place. Yet, you maintain curiosity and presence of mind. It is the next thing to a miracle.”
“Are you avoiding my question?” Maddox asked.
“I am marveling, and I am frightened beyond measure. I have waited eons for this to take place.”
“Our meeting?” Maddox asked.
“Not with you in particular,” Balron said. “I have been trapped in your dimension or plane of existence for hundreds of years, seven hundred or more. You have no idea how I yearn to return home.”
Maddox laughed.
“What amuses you about that?”
“I assure you,” Maddox said, “nothing about your so-called yearning. Rather, your poor attempt at a lie. Your real desire is to open the way for the Erills so they can enter my plane of existence. Why not admit the truth?”
“Who are the Erills?”
“I don’t for a second believe you’re ignorant about them.”
“I suppose I do know about the Erills, as the Yon Soth explained it rather well.”
“The Yon Soth we engaged eighteen hundred light-years from here?” Maddox asked.
“The same.”
“The Yon Soth is your secret ally?”
“Hardly,” Balron said. “I did him several favors in order to earn a few answered questions.”
“What favors?”
“None that you would understand,” Balron said. “It was a tedious affair, taking over a hundred years to perform. From him I incidentally learned about the Erills at what you call the City of Pyramids. From that information, I eventually learned about you.”
“You were at the City of Pyramids?”
“For a short time only,” Balron said. “So yes, you are correct. I did meet the Erills. The poor pathetic and quite trapped entities could not help me, although they pleaded and begged for me to help them. Alas—for them—I could not summon the interest. While I detest this realm of existence, I do not bear it any malice. I simply want to leave it and return home.”
“How did you find me?”
“Through the Erill energy in you, as you have no doubt surmised,” Balron said.
“You learned about me a short time ago?”
“I suspect you mean, why did I choose this particular time to act? The answer should be obvious. You were finally planning to come to the wreck of the C.I. Nubilus. It was therefore time to implement the plan.”
“What about the New Men?”
“You mean the others on and in orbit around the Library Planet?”
“You know that’s what I mean.”
“The New Men are meaningless to me,” Balron said.
Maddox shook his head. “Why coordinate our arrival together then?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me,” Maddox said.
The ball of light pulsated once more.
This time, Maddox was sure it showed agitation with him.
“There is one among their party with peculiar plans,” Balron said. “Perhaps I aided her, and perhaps she is about to shut down an ancient machine. I need the machine off for several minutes, at least. Several hours would be better.”
“And I’m supposed to do something during that time?”
“Indeed,” Balron said. “I have come to believe it is the only way I can find my way home, my beloved realm of existence. Do you realize I have loved ones yearning for me? It is a heinous thing to be an exile in a hard matter universe.”
“Who exiled you?”
“It was an accident, a freakish occurrence of fate and foolishness. The Builders at the Library Planet played a part, but the real villains are the Ardazirho Gatherers, the ones from Existence Vondium Nine.”
“That’s a different plane of existence from here and from your home?” Maddox asked.
“Oh yes, quite different indeed.”
Maddox thought about that. “What exactly is the Ardazirho wreck? Why does it seem as if it’s repairing itself?”
“Let me think,” Balron said. “Ah. I know an Earth legend that might make it easier for you understand. The legend is that of the Flying Dutchman. It was a ghost ship from the Age of Sail during the late Eighteen Century in Earth dating. Others sighted the Flying Dutchman, and it was considered a portent of doom. In reality, the ghost ship traveled between of realms of existence. How this was possible on that primitive planet, I do not know. Perhaps there was a gate or portal in the Bermuda Triangle that aided it in this.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It does not matter,” Balron said. “The C.I. Nubilus is the thing. Over seven hundred years ago, certain Ardazirho Gatherers decided to check other realities, seeing them as shadows or possibilities of the true realm.”
“Where is the true realm?” Maddox asked.
“The Ardazirho Gatherers of Existence Vondium Nine had the conceit theirs was the central or true universe and all the others were shadows of the real realm. Those of C.I. Nubilus had found and repaired an ancient machine of a Traveler and planned to use it.”
“Are you a Traveler?” asked Maddox.
“Yes, yes, you guessed correctly. Your sixth sense has become quite acute in these things.”
“Logic told me that,” Maddox said. “It had nothi
ng to do with a supposed sixth sense.”
“Oh?”
“I guessed because you seem to know much about these planes of existence.”
“Ah. Yes. That is a good point. Now, if you will be so good as to—”
Maddox backed away from the hatchway and deeper into the tin can’s corridor. As he did, he drew his blaster. At that moment, he saw a dark shape flap out of the fog. The creature was long and leathery, with a narrow snout full of fangs. He did not know the name, but it was volraptor.
The creature screeched, and more of them appeared.
“Oh, no,” Balron said. “This is unfortunate. Quick, Captain, I need your help.”
“Can they harm you?” Maddox asked from within the fighter’s corridor.
“The volraptors can devour me,” Balron said. “And if they do, you will be stuck in this Between Realm forever.”
-74-
Maddox eyed the volraptors. He saw three. They had red burning eyes and grinning narrow maws full of fangs. Were the creatures intelligent? He couldn’t tell. Did it make a difference if they were intelligent or not?
Maddox returned to the hatchway. They looked solid, normal, with only the red-glowing eyes for strangeness. Each possessed thin dangling legs with sharp talons.
“Hurry if you please, Captain. The volraptor has always frightened me, making it difficult to negotiate the Nubilus for any length of time.”
“Vol-raptor?” Maddox asked. “You speak of one, and yet I see three.”
“Two are illusions,” Balron said, “although the illusions can still rip us to shreds.”
“How can the volraptors harm a ball of light?”
As if waiting for the question, one of the volraptors turned its head, rays of hellish red light beaming into Balron.
The ball of light gave a thin wail of despair. It shifted as if trying to leave, but it could not shake the narrow beams or move more than a few centimeters one way or another.
Maddox fired the blaster. The force beam moved so slowly he could actually see the ray extending upward. The beam looked weak and pallid, as if devoid of real energy. Was that because of the nature of this place?
Seconds before the force beam struck the volraptor, the creature quit firing the narrow red rays into Balron. It flapped its leathery wings, speeding away.
The other two screeched, diving at Maddox.
The captain released the trigger, and he could see the final power move upward as the pallid beam no longer emitted from the blaster.
“I feel weak,” Balron said. Indeed, the ball of light did not shine as brightly as before nor was his voice as strong.
The two diving volraptors screeched again.
Maddox bared his teeth, tracking the two beasts. Their wings flapped as they increased speed. Maddox crouched low in the hatchway and fired. As before, the ray visibly advanced from the blaster.
The targeted volraptor veered to the left.
Having anticipated that, Maddox switched targets. He fired again, a quick shot, moved the blaster and fired yet again, moved the blaster slightly and fired another ray of light. He would box the last volraptor with rays so no matter where it turned.
One of the force beams touched the creature. It screeched, and vanished.
“Illusion,” Balron said. “Sometimes the volraptor is tricky and pretends to be an illusion. All you need do is strike an illusion to make it disappear.”
Maddox eyed the last illusion. As he did, it vanished as well.
“Interesting,” Balron said. “The volraptor must be conserving strength. Either that or firing its death rays took more of its power than it had anticipated. I don’t believe the volraptor likes this realm.”
“That makes two of us,” Maddox said. “How did you bring me here?”
“There’s no more time to explain. The volraptor could return at any moment. We must be gone by then.”
“Sorry, Balron, that’s not going to cut it. You want my help, you need to answer a few questions first. Let’s start with how you brought us here.”
“It hardly matters how. I did it. Let’s leave it at that.”
While keeping hold of the blaster, Maddox folded his arms across chest.
“Fine, fine,” Balron said, sounding exasperated. “It was a two-step process. I fed your pilot altered telemetry data. Your pilot must have entered that into the main fold mechanism. When the craft folded, I opened the way using the wreck, or the machine in the wreck. Even so, it was a difficult journey for your vessel and those inside. I thought the journey would tear the tin can apart. Luckily, you repeatedly called my name, strengthening the link. I did the rest, drawing your craft to this place.”
“Weird science,” Maddox muttered.
“No. Different elementary principles,” Balron said. “Each plane of existence runs along its own lines. Some are quite similar to each other. Others are wildly different. For instance, my plane is quite different from this one. From my studies, I have learned that certain natives to this realm think of what I do as magic. Believe me, it took me hundreds of years to decipher the so-called sciences of this plane. The Yon Soth made a few things clearer to me.”
“How did the warped-space bubbles in that star system come to be?”
“What does that have to do with this?”
“How did it happen?” Maddox insisted.
“A failed experiment on my part,” Balron admitted. “The Yon Soth assisted me as we attempted to tear a path to my plane of existence. The experiment failed miserably and resulted in the Yon Soth’s weakening. And since you’re probably going to ask, the malignant creature lost much of its intelligence that day. That was why I called it a moronic Yon Soth. It was not always so.”
“After what it did for you, you left it that way?”
“What would you have had me do?”
Maddox shrugged. “What about the Severn warship? What’s its story?”
“Enough,” Balron said. “Time is limited even in this realm. I crave your assistance. I need the parts I spoke about earlier. I believe you can find the way once aboard the wreck. Retrieve the parts for me, help me assemble the machine and I will be on my way home.”
“We’re near the wreck of the C.I. Nubilus?”
“Yes, you are shrewd, Captain. There are of course many C.I. Nubiluses throughout the planes of existence. All of them hold Ardazirho Gatherers. All the vessels but for one are shadows of the ship and event that took place where a portal was long ago torn open by the… Let us call it the Portal-Making Machine.”
“Seems like a prosaic term for such a cataclysmic device,” Maddox said.
“You are making a joke. And that is fine as far as it goes. It shows you still have your sense of humor, your equilibrium. But I beg you, Captain, help me escape your dreary plane of existence.”
“What will you do for me in return?”
“What can I do?”
“Heal my grandmother’s mind,” Maddox said promptly.
“No, no, I cannot leave the Between Realm now. I have expended too much energy getting here. Ask for something else.”
“The Yon Soth—”
“Forget about the malignant creature,” Balron said, interrupting. “I gave him my word never to betray him.”
“So what if you did? This is about you getting home, right?”
“No. I will not break my solemn word.”
Maddox grunted, nodding. If Balron would keep his word to the Yon Soth, maybe he would keep his word today. What someone will do for you against others, they will do against you.
“Firstly, I want to be able to return to my plane of existence,” Maddox said.
“Difficult…” Balron said.
“What? You were going to strand us somewhere else?”
“In a hard matter universe, I swear. But allowing you to return to yours…”
Maddox noticed darkness to the high upper left.
Balron’s attention shifted. “Oh, this is bad. The volraptor is out there waiting. Thi
s has taken too long. Yes! I swear to help you return to your ‘tin can’ and allow it to go on its way to the second planet in your plane of existence.”
“That’s not much of a reward.”
“You have your altered sixth sense. If you exercise the new talent, it will remain. If not, it will wither and disappear in time. Surely an increase in your skills is a worthy payment.”
“Can you—?” Maddox almost asked if Balron could make him faster physically. But he wasn’t sure he wanted the creature to alter him anymore.
“I have it,” Balron said. “I know what you might like as payment. It is on the second planet. I’m not sure you can pull it off, as the New Men and the other are there. But the thing I am referring to would greatly aid your pathetic Star Watch. I have a feeling—no, I take that back. The sphere you know of as Human Space could use what I am offering.”
“Quit hinting around and tell me what this thing is,” Maddox said.
Balron did.
Maddox’s eyes widened and he became thoughtful. “Yes. I accept that in payment. How do I acquire it, especially with the New Men there?”
“You will have to figure that part out on your own.”
Maddox stared at the ball of light. Then he looked up at the drifting, waiting volraptor, which retreated from view even as the captain watched. “Sure. That’s reasonable. Now that I know about it…” Maddox shook his head. “What’s next, Balron? How do I reach the shadow of an Ardazirho Gatherer so I can find this otherworldly corridor?”
“Let me explain in detail. You must listen carefully and do exactly what I tell you, because we can only try this once.”
“I’m listening,” Maddox said.
“Indeed,” Balron said, as he began to explain.
-75-
Maddox found himself aboard an Ardazirho Gatherer. He didn’t know if it was a shadow of or the real C.I. Nubilus, the Flying Dutchman of the space-ways. So far, he hadn’t seen any furry wolfish crewmembers in their blue uniforms or any of the zoo animals the Gatherers had captured for whatever inner-core galaxy Masters they served. The place was empty, the captain floating weightlessly along the giant tubular main corridor. He zipped along at a good pace, only occasionally reaching out to steady his flight.
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