The Crucible

by Mark Whiteway

  Possibilities galloped like runaway horses. Had they stumbled into some sort of trap? Could the Shanata vessel have been taken over by an unknown entity—an enemy more powerful than even the Damise? An even more bizarre notion struck him. What if the simulation created by the Elinare posing as Rahada had never ended? What if he were still living inside that illusion, and this was all some twisted manifestation of Dante’s ninth circle of hell?

  Quinn jumped as the air in front of them fizzed and a silver ball materialised. Beneath it, Vil-gar’s wizened, sprightly form took shape.

  His mouth rippled like a wave. “Greetings!”

  Quinn felt the tension flow out of him. “You! I might have known you were behind all of this!”

  “Indeed I am! Expressions of praise and thanks are most welcome!”

  “What’s going on? Where’s the rest of the ship’s complement?”

  “I asked if I could be the one to greet you,” Vil-gar said. “I’m sure they felt it was the least they could do.”

  “This is the Shanata vessel.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “What happened?”

  “I suppose you could say I made one or two upgrades.”

  “You’re lying!”

  Vil-gar’s eyes widened, and his ears pricked up in an expression Quinn took to be effrontery.

  “You’re lying,” Quinn insisted. “You told us you had to go find the ship. You couldn’t possibly have found it and reengineered it in that time.”

  Vil-gar’s ears drooped. “You are correct that I had already located your ship.”

  “So you could have simply navigated us out of orbit there and then. Instead, you almost let us get destroyed.”

  “I had no choice! Allowing the crisis to develop was the only way for you to uncover the rogue Elinare.”

  “You knew about her? And you said nothing?”

  “Would you have believed me if I had told you she was an imposter?”

  Quinn was preparing a suitable retort when Zothan broke in. “The ship is impressive, but I still do not see how you managed to reconfigure the entire hull.”

  Vil-gar perked up. “Simple! I introduced the Damise’s AI.”

  “You did what? Are you crazy?” Quinn exclaimed.

  “It’s perfectly safe. The AI is merely an extremely versatile tool. Pare it down to its base code and build in the specifications you want. I used it to create an asymptotic energy dissipation net.”

  “That is an incredible achievement,” Zothan breathed.

  Quinn felt like a half-wit at a genius convention.

  Zothan caught his blank expression. “The more energy dumped into it, the stronger the field becomes, Quinn. In theory, the ship could withstand assault by an indefinite number of chuthahs.”

  “You’re sure it’s not going to turn around and absorb the ship?” Quinn asked.

  “It’s not designed to do that,” Vil-gar said.

  His reply didn’t exactly instil Quinn with confidence. “I suppose those newfangled energy devices were your idea as well.”

  Vil-gar’s affronted expression returned. “They are neither new nor fangled.”

  “They are not zahar or chuthah,” Zothan said, “yet they appear to incorporate elements from both.”

  Vil-gar nodded like a small child. “Quite right. During the flight from Pann, I told you there was a way to eliminate the pursuing AI ships without sacrificing one of your own, but the risk that the AI would adapt was too great. The ka-horeth creates an initial implosion, drawing energy from the target like a zahar, thus multiplying the subspace pressure on the link between universes. The destructive effect is far greater than a conventional chuthah.”

  Quinn frowned. “Ka-horeth?”

  “Your Shanata friends chose the name. It means ‘flower of annihilation.’ Such a sentimental race.”

  “Quinn,” Zothan began. “With enough of these devices, our one ship could decimate the entire Damise fleet. We could end the assault on the Haven and save the Elinare.”

  Quinn addressed Vil-gar. “How many of these things do you have?”

  “You mean right now?”

  “Sure. Just a rough number would do.”

  “Roughly, none.”

  “None?”

  “I used the two I had constructed to save you,” Vil-gar said. “As you pointed out, I had very little time. In any case, it wouldn’t matter if we had ten thousand of them. Each vessel we destroyed would regenerate in a couple of hours.”

  Quinn recalled their earlier conversation. “That’s what you meant by invincible, wasn’t it?”

  “It was the price of securing the Damise’s trust.”

  Zothan appeared confused. “I do not understand.”

  “He modified the Damise’s AI so that their ships would be invulnerable to conventional attack,” Quinn said. “The idea was to get them to commit the bulk of their forces to the assault on the Haven, giving us the best chance of tackling the AI in our universe.”

  Zothan raised a claw to his pointed chin. “A risky strategy.”

  Quinn nodded. “I’m still not convinced it was the right one.” Or that it stemmed from the right motive. He stowed his suspicion. “I guess time will tell.”

  A commotion sounded from the far end of the bay. A mixed band of masked Shanata, tall, willowy Badhati, and tentacled Osei were making their way towards the sphere.

  Time for cards on the table. Quinn banged on the side of the sphere. “Come on out.”

  The near side of the sphere grew transparent, and Conor and Vyasa stepped out. The dolin loomed behind them.

  Three individuals fronted the approaching group. Quinn recognised Grey of the Osei and the Badhati representative, but the Shanata’s face was hidden behind the traditional black face mask with its narrow eye slits.

  The Shanata’s gaze took in each of the sphere’s occupants in turn before finally fixing on Quinn. “Where is Rahada?”

  Part Two: The Nebula

  Quinn sat in the raised control-room chair, closed his eyes, and waited for the Elinare to make contact. With Vil-gar having returned to the Damise, Quinn’s Elinare link provided the only way of navigating this space.

  The last time he performed this exercise, Keiza had re-created a sun-dappled Irish forest as a backdrop. Now that the Elinare posing as Rahada was in the driving seat, he expected the encounter would be far less benign, but he had little choice but to endure whatever simulation she chose to inflict.

  She might even refuse to cooperate, but he decided that was unlikely. Her stated aim was to ensure he and the others kept away from the Haven. Frustrating their efforts to leave orbit would not serve her purpose.

  As the real Rahada was still a prisoner on the world below, he had expected the Shanata to attempt some sort of rescue. But after conferring, the representatives of the three races had announced their intention to leave right away.

  The ship had a complex internal political structure that he understood only dimly. Maybe the Shanata had been outvoted. Or maybe Rahada had lost support following the abortive mutiny among the Shanata during her earlier absence. In any event, with the Elinare sphere severely damaged and a creature running around in his head determined to prevent his return to the Haven at any cost, he had little choice but to comply. He consoled himself in the knowledge that Rahada was safe as long as Vil-gar managed to keep the Damise at bay.

  The possibility that Vil-gar was playing both sides still nagged at him like a toothache. As soon as they left, nothing could prevent Vil-gar from facilitating the Damise’s takeover of the Haven then sitting back as an invincible fleet overran the Consensus and the worlds of Earth. He had caught Vil-gar in a variety of lies and half truths, yet he was left with no choice but to follow the little creature’s plan. Perhaps Vil-gar really was the cleverest being in two universes.

  He caught a whiff of cold, dank air and opened his eyes. He was no longer aboard the Shanata vessel. A torch in an iron sconce cast flickering yellow light over a wa
ll and floor hewn from rough stone. Lifting the torch from its sconce, he turned slowly, revealing a short passage.

  An anguished cry sounded up ahead. The Elinare posing as Rahada could have salted this scenario with all manner of tricks and traps. Should I investigate or head in the opposite direction? The cry sounded again, weaker. He headed towards it.

  Holding the torch high, he followed the winding passageway before stopping in front of a small open chamber. A movement in the far corner caught his eye, and he entered. The torchlight illuminated a slim figure with legs tucked and head bowed. The figure’s chin rose, and he recognised Keiza. Her eyes were red rimmed, her wrists shackled.

  He lowered the burning torch to the floor and crouched beside her. “You all right?”

  She parted cracked lips and gave a weak nod.

  “Let’s get you out of here.”

  Her manacles were of thick, rusted iron linked to a wall by heavy chains. He pried at the shackles and tested the chains, but they wouldn’t budge.

  She shook her head and croaked, “No good.”

  Ignoring her, he cast about for some sort of lever.

  She closed her eyes. “Listen… You must listen.”

  “What is it?” He raised the torch. The cell was empty aside from a filthy bundle in the opposite corner.

  “This is her re-creation. She controls everything that happens here. If you want to survive—if you want the ship to survive—you must follow her rules.”

  “Which are?”

  Keiza coughed and moistened her lips. “This scenario is taken from the ancient history of your home planet. We are on an island called Crete inside a labyrinth that houses a dangerous creature called the Minotaur.”

  “I remember the story,” Quinn said.

  “Look in the bundle.”

  Quinn crossed the cell and drew back the cloth. Inside was a heavy sword and a large roll of twine.

  “You have to tie the string to the door, find the centre of the labyrinth, and kill the monster. Then follow the string to return here.”

  “So I’m Theseus, and you’re meant to be Ariadne. Cute. I suppose solving the labyrinth symbolises navigating the ship.”

  “That’s right. If you’re successful, then the ship will make it back to the portal, and I’ll be set free.”

  Meaning the other Elinare has no intention of letting me succeed. She probably hopes I’ll fail, and the ship will be permanently lost in the null universe. “Sod that.” He grasped the hilt, hefted the sword, and approached Keiza.

  Her voice cracked. “What are you doing?”

  “Hold still.” He raised the sword and brought it down with all his strength, severing the first chain then the second.

  Keiza’s mouth lay open. “Do you realise what you’ve done?”

  “We’re not playing it her way.” He tossed the sword back in its corner. It clanged against the stone and lay still.

  She stared at it. “You’re leaving the weapon behind?”

  “It’s hers. She gave me that to execute me with.” He offered a hand. “Come on. It’s time to go.”

  ~

  Supporting Keiza by her slender waist, Quinn exited the cell. He glanced left and right. “Okay, which way?”

  “Where are we headed?” she asked.

  “In this scenario, who cares? All that matters is that you guide my fingers in the real world so I input the right data to guide us back to the portal.”

  She nodded. “That way.”

  Together, they hurried down a narrow stone passageway.

  “The other Elinare will be furious. We must expect some form of retribution.”

  “Let her. Angry people make mistakes. What I want to know is who the hell is she, and why is she doing this? We agreed on the terms of your release with the Qan-ho-nah. This wasn’t part of the deal.”

  “I don’t believe this is their doing,” Keiza said. “The Qan-ho-nah are only concerned with solving the Problem. Dealing with me was a distraction, an annoyance. You suggested banishment as a solution, and they jumped at it. As far as they’re concerned, the matter is over. They have far more important concerns.”

  “Then who would do this?”

  “I’m not sure. But I suspect it’s one who feels the Qan-ho-nah’s decision to send me away was unduly lenient.” She guided them left into a passage that curved away to the right. Burning sconces lit the walls every ten metres.

  “You’re saying if an Elinare disagrees with their ruling, then he or she can come along after the event and impose whatever sanctions they wish?”

  “You disagree?”

  “Humans would call that taking the law into your own hands,” Quinn said. “And yes, I disagree.”

  “Has not human history been marked by revolutions sparked by individuals who dissented in the face of injustice?”

  “I suppose. But we’re not talking about widespread injustice. You merely made a misjudgement in their eyes by bringing us to the Haven.”

  “That misjudgement may yet cost thousands of lives and destroy a project designed to preserve two universes. I can see where others of my race might see my punishment as inadequate. However…”

  “What?” Quinn prompted as they took a sharp right turn.

  “Elinare have always lived by certain principles. One is that we will do no harm to anyone of our own race. Torture, whether physical or mental, is completely contrary to our beliefs.”

  “So she’s violating your law by imprisoning you in a corner of my mind.”

  “Yes, but that’s not the worst of it. Ever since the Elinare gained the ability to enter the minds of other sentient creatures and communicate using their memories and experiences, we have operated according to a strict code. To force our presence on another or attempt to control them is…” Her features worked as she searched for the right word. “Disgusting.”

  “We have to stop her,” Quinn said.

  “Agreed.”

  They rounded a corner and entered a brightly lit square chamber. At its centre stood a massive monster with a bull’s legs and torso, humanoid shoulders, and curved horns. The Minotaur.

  It stared down at them with Rahada’s face.

  ~

  As Quinn backed away, the door clanged shut behind him. He pushed against it, but it did not budge. The Minotaur gazed down at them, and its muzzle snorted smoke.

  “Don’t tell me—we have to get past that, or we’ll lose our navigational track,” he said.

  “I’m afraid so,” Keiza replied.

  An image of the sword, lying discarded in the corner of Keiza’s cell, flashed through his mind. No sword could tackle that thing.

  Quinn circled to the left. The creature might have been a product of myth and imagination, but if he had learned one thing from these Elinare scenarios, it was that injury or death could occur here just as in the real world.

  “This is her scenario, right?”

  “Yes, Quinn,” Keiza replied.

  “But it’s drawn from my mind.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Can’t you access my mind?”

  “She has me confined to a tiny area,” she said. “I’m cut off from the regions that control your memories.”

  “All except one.”

  The Minotaur with Rahada’s face took a step forward and swung a mighty foreleg at them. Quinn shoved Keiza left and dived right, the Minotaur’s huge hoof narrowly missing his head.

  She lay sprawled on the ground. “I don’t understand you.”

  “This!” he yelled. “All of this is from my memories! Can’t you make use of it somehow?”

  The Minotaur leaned over them, fire flashing from its snout.

  “It’s her re-creation,” Keiza said. “I can’t introduce anything new.”

  “Then maybe you can duplicate what’s already here.”

  The Minotaur raised a hind leg. Quinn rolled away a fraction of a second before its massive hoof slammed into the stone floor where he’d been lying. He scrabbled
to his feet and staggered backwards.

  The creature opened its mouth, revealing rows of daggerlike teeth. Its eyes smouldered a deep crimson as it raised its front hooves like twin hammers. A deep-throated roar shook the air as the hooves smashed against the stone floor, forcing Quinn into a corner. He checked left and right but had nowhere left to run. With one more attack like that, he’d be nothing more than a smear on the floor.

  Another bellow rang through the chamber. As Quinn covered his ears, realisation dawned. The sound had not come from the creature towering over him. The Minotaur turned its head. Another set of hooves pounded the stone floor, and a second creature emerged from behind the first. It was identical, down to Rahada’s facial features. Keiza?

  The two Minotaurs reared and locked horns. Smoke billowed from their nostrils, and their iron sinews knotted as they strained against one another.

  Quinn edged away, his back to the wall. On the far side of the chamber was a second bronze door, identical to the first but open. The exit.

  Keeping his distance from the struggling titans, he skirted the perimeter. Roaring filled his ears, and acrid smoke tickled the back of his throat. Hooves lifted and smashed down as the monsters sought purchase against stone. Finally, he reached the second door and slipped through into a stone passageway just like the many others he had traversed.

  He was past the Minotaur, but without Keiza’s help, he had no idea which direction to go. He imagined his fingers trembling over the Shanata control panel in the real world while the ship hung motionless.

  He closed his eyes. “Keiza… Keiza, are you there?”

  The only sound was the clashing of horns and the stomping of hooves.

  “Keiza, answer me.”

  The floor in front of him rippled, and something materialised. He recognised it as the ball of string he had left back in Keiza’s cell. Bending down, he picked it up and examined it closely. It appeared completely unremarkable.

  He held up the string and cried out, “What am I supposed to do with this?”

  ~

  Quinn stared at the spot where the string had appeared, expecting the sword to appear, but the stone floor remained empty. He turned the ball over in his hands. If Keiza had provided him with a replica of the string, it had to have some function. But what?