The Crucible

by Mark Whiteway

  The Arc of the Universe

  Book Four

  By Mark Whiteway

  Science Fiction

  Copyright © Mark Whiteway

  All Rights Reserved.

  By the same author

  Lodestone Book One: The Sea of Storms

  Lodestone Book Two: The World of Ice and Stars

  Lodestone Book Three: The Crucible of Dawn

  Lodestone Book Four: Seeds Across the Sky

  Lodestone Book Five: The Conquered Shore

  Lodestone Book Six: Eternity’s Shadow

  The Arc of the Universe: Book One

  The Arc of the Universe: Book Two

  The Arc of the Universe: Book Three

  www.markwhiteway.weebly.com

  Table of Contents

  Part One: The Haven

  Part Two: The Nebula

  Part Three: The Desert

  Part Four: The Ruins

  Part Five: The Crucible

  Part One: The Haven

  Regan Quinn stepped from a shining globe onto the shimmering surface of a world that could not exist yet somehow did.

  The Elinare called it Haven.

  Silver fronds waved beneath a burnished sky. A jumble of geometric structures lay scattered on the plain below like a giant child’s abandoned toys.

  Behind him stood a cohort of misfits—Rahada, clad in the close-fitting black of the Shanata, bright-eyed and severe; winged Vyasa with her straight, silver hair and leathery wings; Zothan the Nemazi, skin the colour of an oil slick and limbs permanently crooked for action and towering above them all; the flat-faced dolin, a giant construct fashioned out of living stone.

  White-robed Keiza materialised beside him, smiling. “Ready?”

  Quinn glanced at the others, but they were looking past him.

  “That’s right,” she said. “They can see and hear me.”

  Keiza of the Elinare had dwelt in his mind as a mere presence until now, invisible to anyone else in the real world. He fought back the irrational jealousy of a child forced to share a favourite toy.

  “Come,” Keiza continued, “the Qan-ho-nah awaits.”

  The Elinare ruling council—she had said that was the best way to think of them—were responsible for overseeing a plan to save two universes. According to her, the plan would take some two billion years to execute.

  A rhythmic thudding cut off Quinn’s response. The sound was coming from the dolin. Conor.

  Quinn raised his eyes to the giant. “I think my son needs to be let out.”

  The dolin picked Quinn out with an orange beam from its only functioning eye then knelt. A hatch on its back swung open, and a fair-haired youth shimmied to the ground.

  He looked around, caught sight of Quinn, and grinned. “Hey, Dad!”

  Quinn returned the grin. In truth, the boy was a reanimate, an Agantzane-engineered copy of his dead son, but Quinn had long since turned his back on that technicality.

  Rahada moved to Quinn’s shoulder, her fingers hovering near a baton at her belt. “Elinare! You should know that we will do whatever it takes to protect Quinn from harm.”

  Keiza doused her frown with a warm smile. “Your threats are irrelevant. Quinn is in no danger here.” She set off down the hillside, arms swinging like a little girl’s.

  He set off after her, the others trailing behind.

  The arc of golden sky stretched from horizon to horizon like a sea of brightness. A shadow passed over him, as shocking as a snowflake in July. Vyasa landed and folded her leathery wings against her back. She fell in step beside him, uncomfortably close. After being absorbed by the Damise’s Artificial Intelligence on Pann, she, too, had reappeared as a reanimate to be used as their mouthpiece. When the Damise ship was destroyed, she had switched her allegiance to Quinn and the others, but was it all a ruse? Was she merely biding her time till the rest of the Damise showed up?

  With the “gift” the Agantzane had bestowed on Quinn, he had only to reach out and touch her, and she would expire. Problem solved. Following the destruction of the Eire colony fleet, the Agantzane had inflicted him with the ability to cause instant death to any member of the Consensus, the vast interstellar alliance over which they presided. They had claimed they were providing him with a means of exacting retribution under a justice system they referred to as one plus one equals two, but their macabre gift had turned out to be part of a far more intricate plot to start a war with the Shade races and to draw the dissident Mercy Faction out into the open. He balled his hand into a fist. I’ll never become the monster they want.

  Zothan the Nemazi loped along next to him in silence. Golden eyes burned like embers on the sides of his axe-shaped head. He was the least humanlike of all of them, yet Quinn’s trust in him was implicit. Under the rigid Nemazi code, they were magatha rashan, brothers bound by water and part of the same omesku, or clan. Their relationship mirrored those found within the nomadic clans that fled before the time distortions tracking across their world like storm fronts.

  The Shanata had landed on Nemazi and released the gormgast, semisentient machines designed to wipe out all life. The clans had banded together to resist. Were they still holding their own, or had the gormgast wiped them out? If the question occupied Zothan’s thoughts, he never voiced it. His loyalty was as implacable as the sun that beat down on his desert home.

  Whoops and hollers drifted on the air. A group of half a dozen Elinare rounded a plain cubical structure. They were engaged in a childlike chase yet had the appearance of adults.

  Quinn caught up to Keiza and nodded at the laughing Elinare. “What’s going on?”

  “They are exploring quantum-field interactions,” she replied.

  Quinn’s expression was blank. “Looks like a simple game of tag to me.”

  She paused, looking him up and down as if he were a laboratory specimen. “Naturally.” Then she resumed her jaunty gait.

  “Human offspring use play to learn about the world around them, do they not?” Zothan’s voice was like an iron rasp. On Nemazi, his consciousness had merged with Quinn’s, giving each an understanding of the other that went beyond words.

  “I suppose,” Quinn replied.

  “The more complex a life-form, the greater the need for play.”

  The Elinare gambolled like kittens. How can I even speak to these people? Quinn’s feet dragged after Keiza as she led the way like some pied piper into the heart of the Elinare community.

  ~

  Quinn wandered among cylinders, cones, pyramids, and dodechahedrons, observing the Elinare. Clad in white robes identical to Keiza’s, they swayed, pirouetted, or sat cross-legged in silence, oblivious to the five alien creatures and the giant construct passing by.

  Quinn caught up to Keiza. “This place is remarkable.”

  Her smile was glowing, childlike. “I’m glad you like it.”

  That wasn’t quite what he meant. He tried again. “A planet without a sun… That goes against everything we know.”

  “We considered creating a sun, but time constraints forced us to seek a different solution.”

  “Right. Two billion years till the end of everything. I can see why you’d need to hustle.”

  “Is that what humans call a joke?”

  He weighed his response. “Sometimes when humans feel overwhelmed, they use humour as a defence. I meant no disrespect.”

  “I understand. However, as I mentioned back on the ship, the hole in this universe is already some three billion light-years across. In the time you took to tell your joke, it has expanded by a further eight point two kilometres, according to your measurement. Both this universe and the one you know will be destroyed if we do not… hustle.”

  A red globe floating past flickered like a carnival lantern.
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  Quinn spread his arms wide. “Look, if the whole of existence is threatened, why not declare a truce? Why not call a meeting with the Damise, the Agantzane, and the entire Consensus and form an alliance to work together for mutual survival? Heck, I’ll bet even Earth and its dependent worlds would join you once they realised the stakes.”

  “The Agantzane are strategists at heart,” Keiza replied. “If they still controlled the Consensus, your plan might have merit. But they now operate under the Damise’s shadow, and the Damise value dominance above all else, even survival.”

  “But that makes no sense.”

  “To a human, perhaps. To the Damise, their concept of purity is paramount. Achieving total order in the universe prior to its destruction would, in a sense, be their ultimate fulfilment.”

  As they approached a shining dome, Keiza announced, “This is the place of the Qan-ho-nah. The Circle has granted you an audience, Quinn. It is a great honour.”

  “Uh, right.”

  “Remember, their time is precious. Try not to waste it with human banter.”

  He nodded. “Can I bring the others?

  “I told you on the ship their presence is irrelevant. They may come or remain here as they wish. It is of no consequence.”

  The dome was a hundred metres high and seamless.

  “I don’t see a door,” he said.

  She beamed. “Follow me.” She walked forwards and disappeared through the wall.

  When Quinn made to follow, Rahada blocked him with one hand. “I will go first to make sure it’s safe.”

  Quinn glanced at the nearby Elinare. One sat against a wall, while another bent his body to form an arch, and a third traced patterns in a sandbox. They reminded him of inmates in an asylum.

  He began, “I really don’t think—”

  “These are highly advanced creatures. We cannot be sure of their motives. And your survival is paramount.”

  He shrugged, and she vanished into the structure, only to reappear a moment later. Frowning, she reentered, only to emerge once again. Quinn recalled his own frustration upon encountering the multidimensional paths in Ximun’s dwelling. He recalled that Ximun’s secret allies, the Damise, were a Founder Race, just like the Elinare. Did his advanced knowledge come from his association with them?

  Zothan cut across his train of thought. “The Elinare wish you to enter first, Quinn.”

  Obviously. He swallowed and started forwards.

  “Be careful, Dad,” Conor called from behind.

  Quinn briefly considered ordering the boy back inside the dolin’s compartment, but the denizens of this shining world with no sun seemed able to alter the fabric of reality. If they decided to move against their visitors, Quinn doubted anywhere would be safe. Keiza had insisted they were in no danger. For now, he saw no alternative to trusting her.

  The dome loomed large before him, its surface giving off a pearlescent glow. He inhaled and stepped through, into a sea of light. The ground rippled like water, though it was utterly stable. He glanced over his shoulder but could no longer see the dome wall. The light appeared to stretch on forever. Keiza stood a half step in front of him. She reached out and grasped his hand.

  Panicking, he pulled away, but she did not collapse. Rather, she smiled.

  “There is nothing to fear, Quinn. In the distant past, your death touch would have expired our kind, but we gave up our corporeal forms long ago when we entered the null universe.”

  He felt the softness and warmth of her palm. “You seem real enough to me.”

  “The field surrounding this world allows us to experience life as material beings once more, but we are energy, not flesh and blood. The pathogen within you cannot harm us.”

  Quinn felt a rush of relief. Trapped among the worlds of the Consensus, he had been deprived of the comfort of touch with anyone other than his son. Slowly, he released her hand.

  Behind them, Rahada stepped into the light, followed by Vyasa, then Zothan accompanying Conor, and finally the dolin’s immense bulk.

  “You are Quinn.” The voice seemed to come from all around.

  Quinn spoke into the ether. “You are the Qan-ho-nah?”

  “We are.”

  “Would you show yourselves?”

  “We would not.”

  “The Qan-ho-nah do not explore their corporeal past,” Keiza said under her breath. “They have no time for… frivolities.”

  Avoid human banter. Right. He took a deep breath. “The Damise are using an AI weapon to progressively take over our worlds. We have no power to combat it. Only you can reverse its effects. My friends and I have journeyed here to seek your help before it absorbs all sentient life.”

  The following pause was so long that Quinn wondered if the Qan-ho-nah had left.

  Then the voice spoke again. “What happened to Aurek?”

  “Ah yes. Actually, I’m glad you asked about him because it kind of shows how dangerous the Damise’s AI really is. You see—”

  “We dispatched him to investigate a massive spatial disturbance in your universe.”

  “Right. That’s right. The destruction of the Shana system. The Damise were behind that, too, by the way. At first, we thought it was the Agantzane because… well, it was their ship we encountered. It was kinda funny in a way because they thought we were responsible, and we thought they—”

  “He shared your consciousness.”

  “He did, yes,” Quinn said.

  “Now he is gone.”

  “He sacrificed his life to purge the AI from a number of Consensus ships and free their crews. I guess you could say he was a hero.”

  “A hero?”

  “Sure. You know, someone who helps others at great cost to him- or herself.”

  “Show us,” the voice echoed.

  “Show you?”

  “Show us the meaning of hero.”

  “I’m not sure I under—”

  Seven pinpricks of light appeared, circling him, faster and faster. Keiza and the others grew motionless. Before he could frame a question, the sprites merged and entered his forehead.

  ~

  Quinn raised his head. He was seated on snow-covered ground inside a wind-battered tent. Four mounds of furs that might once have been men stared back at him through rime-rimmed eyes. Numbing cold pressed against his fingers and toes, interspersed with sharp pains like the tips of blades.

  An oil lamp guttered on the verge of extinction. A handwritten book lay open before him, showing jagged letters written with agonising effort. A diary? Scott… Could this be Scott’s ill-fated expedition to the South Pole, or at least an Elinare re-creation based on the information stored in his memory? This is how they communicate, he reminded himself. This is how they learn. But would they comprehend the rituals and morality of an alien culture umpteen light-years and two hundred years removed?

  The physical state of the others and him suggested they were near the end of their journey. Scott’s party had reached their goal, only to discover that Amundsen, their great rival, had gotten there first. Crushed with disappointment, they began the long trek back. Then the weather had closed in.

  The storm pummelled and clawed at their tent. The opening flapped, revealing a chink of light and a sliver of the blizzard, blowing with relentless fury. No way forwards. No way back. No way out.

  Quinn examined the faces of the others again, one at a time. One figure seemed familiar somehow. Beneath the weathered features, he caught an angular cheekbone, a hint of grey skin.

  “Aurek?” He croaked the word.

  The others stared back with dead men’s eyes.

  Aurek rose slowly, pain etched across his features. “Pardon me.” He spoke with a London accent. “I am just going outside and may be some time.” He turned towards the tent flap.

  Quinn flogged his frozen mind into service. Oates. Aurek is Oates. And I’m Scott. Oates is fatally frostbitten, and he knows it. He’s going to walk out into the blizzard. He’s going to commit suicide because
he knows he’s slowing the rest of us, lowering our chances of survival. But in the end, it’ll prove a futile gesture. We’ll never move from this spot. We’ll all die, just eleven miles from a resupply point.

  He recalled the Alamo scenario Keiza had reproduced on the Damise ship. She’d altered history in her re-creation. The reinforcements, which had historically turned back, kept going and reached the mission during the Mexicans’ final assault. So it doesn’t have to work out the same way as my memory records it. I’m Scott. I’m the leader. I can change the outcome if I want. Is this some kind of test? Are the Elinare watching to see if I’ll let Oates walk to his death?

  Quinn rose to his feet. Aurek pushed aside the tent flap. The whiteout was a blinding wall. Quinn lurched forwards, grabbed a handful of Aurek’s fur coverings, and yanked him backwards. They both toppled and fell with a grunt. Quinn threw an arm around Aurek’s neck to restrain him. Aurek flapped like a landed fish. As Quinn adjusted his grip, he heard hoarse cries of “Hell” and “What’s going on?”

  Quinn gritted his teeth and held on. “You’re not going out there, you hear? No one is. We stick together. That’s an order.”

  Aurek’s struggles ceased. Gradually, Quinn relaxed his grip. Aurek’s features were peaceful, as if he had just lain down for a nap. The tent and its occupants shimmered, and Quinn was standing once more in the sea of light.

  “Is that a hero?” the voice asked.

  Quinn felt warmth penetrate his bones once more. “Yes… No… I don’t know. I don’t know what you want. Look, all I know is Aurek gave his life to save me and protect the others on those ships.”

  “No Elinare has expired since we entered this universe.”

  Quinn shook his head. “I’m really sorry.”

  “What of the others?”

  “Others?”

  “Those you chose to bring with you.”

  Keiza, Rahada, Vyasa, Zothan, Conor, and the dolin—all stood still and silent as mannequins. Had the Elinare pulled him out of time just as the now-extinct Japhet had done earlier?