by Mike Wild
What disturbed her the most was that, in almost every case, the indexing attached to the specimens was cross-referenced to others – sometimes two or three, sometimes seven or eight, or sometimes as many as twenty other specimens in the collection.
“What is this?” Slowhand said.
“Disturbing,” was all Kali could say in reply.
Again, she and Slowhand moved on, working their way towards the hub of Twilight now, passing chambers even more mystifying than those they had already investigated.
Here was a chamber whose circumference was lined with membranous booths, most of which stirred with what looked like variously coloured gases; here one whose laboratory equipment was, bafflingly, positioned on the ceiling; and here a considerably larger and perfectly circular chamber whose only content was a strangely shaped chair suspended on the end of a metal arm looking like the hour hand of some giant clock. The purpose of these devices was, for now, beyond their ken and, shrugging to each other, they ignored them, coming at last to a point where the corridor joined – became – a circular affair surrounding the hub itself. This was clearly a centre of activity as other corridors joined it at regular points but, like some of the earlier doors, they had all been barricaded by the Faith. Neither Slowhand or Kali were very much interested in what lay along them, however, because their attention had instead become fixed on what actually lay at the heart of Twilight.
“Slowhand?”
“Don’t look at me. I haven’t a clue.”
They were staring at another sphere within the sphere, or at least half of one. For a broad hemisphere lay in front of them – one that perhaps would take a hundred men to surround with arms outstretched – but this one was transparent, made of a substance that felt like soft glass, and its interior slowly roiled with a thick green fog. From what Kali and Slowhand could see through the fog, the interior of the hemisphere did not end at floor level but went much deeper, and they realised that they were looking through some kind of observation dome into the lower half of Twilight. There was some kind of chamber down there, a completely organic space whose uneven floor was punctured by perhaps fifty circular holes, each the size of a farmstead’s well. They appeared to contain liquid, too, but it was not water. Instead, there was a slowly bubbling, lava-like gloop the colour of the mist it produced that was slightly overflowing their edges.
“Looks like pea soup,” Slowhand commented.
“Oh, I think it’s some kind of soup, all right. Just not the kind you’d serve at dinner.”
Kali studied the chamber further, noting three demi arches that arced over the wells, their tips almost meeting above their centre. An odd looking runed prism was suspended between the tips, though it looked damaged and skewed. But even so, every few seconds, it discharged spidery, slowly dancing bolts of energy into the wells themselves, as if it were in some way vitalising them. Kali’s attention turned to the hemisphere itself, and here she noted that it was not completely transparent but instead etched all around its circumference with the same pictograms that had indexed the specimen drawers. Thousands of them, one after the other. The fact that these etchings glowed slightly suggested they were more than simple decoration. They reminded her of the ‘orchestral’ selection controls she had once used in the Forbidden Archive and she knew instinctively that if she danced her palms over them she would be combining one species with another in whatever combination she wished. Merrit Moon had been right when, back in Gargas, he’d said that the Old Races had been playing gods. The wells beneath them were not wells, they were birthing pools for whatever was created within them.
“The Crucible of the Dragon God,” Kali said. “We’ve found it.”
“So we know where the k’nid come from. Unfortunately, I don’t think we’ve come at the best time.”
“What?”
“Time’s up, Hooper. They’re spawning again.”
Kali snapped her gaze back into the fog and thought, dammit.
Their exploration of the spheres had obviously taken longer than they had reckoned because something was indeed happening down there. Something they had come to prevent but were now forced to be witness to. From each of the birthing pools a small platform was rising and atop each platform, gloop dripping from its irregular, angular flanks, was a k’nid. The dark, unnatural creatures did not move until they had fully risen from their pools but then they burst into frantic activity. Some sped up what appeared to be a circular pathway just discernable around the wall of the chamber and a second later could be heard battering at one of the Faith-erected barricades, others headed out of view of the observation dome and did not return, perhaps finding some other exit from the chamber. Still others, sensing Kali and Slowhand above, launched themselves the not inconsiderable height towards the dome itself. One actually made it, thudding upside down against the transparent substance, and was followed in quick succession by another, and then another.
“Whoa!” Slowhand said, backing up. He unslung Suresight and aimed at the dome.
“I wouldn’t worry too much. This stuff is probably tougher than it loo –”
The soft glass tore before her eyes, rent by the scrabbling of the k’nid. Fog billowed through – noxious and foul.
“Yeah?” Slowhand said, loosing three rapid arrows while coughing. “You wanna think that one through again?”
“Shit!” For a moment Kali considered blasting the k’nid with her crackstaff, but she had no idea how volatile the fog that accompanied them might be. There was only one alternative. “Run!”
“Where?”
“Anywhere!”
The sound of the dome tearing accompanied Kali and Slowhand’s footfalls. These were soon drowned out as more of the k’nid trailed the others through the newly created exit. Kali didn’t look back to count, but from the noise she reckoned at least another five of the things were in pursuit. It didn’t take an arithmetical genius to work out that eight k’nid was eight too many. Nor did it take a genius to work out that if they didn’t get the hells out of their way, they were dead. But where to run to? All of the laboratories they had explored so far were open and offered no protection, and the sealed doors were out, but there had to be somewhere. Finally, she noticed one of the chambers they had passed earlier – the one with the gas filled booths – and ran towards it. One of the booths appeared clear of gas and, hammering on it to test its strength, Kali punched a panel on its outside which she hoped would open it. The front of the booth slid aside.
She grabbed Slowhand and threw him into the chamber, before following him. As she squeezed up to the archer the door slid shut. A second later, the k’nid slammed into their makeshift refuge, shaking it but otherwise unable to gain entry.
Slowhand stared out at the scrabbling things, the sound of their assault muted, his face pressed up against the side of Kali’s head. “Cosy.”
“Cramped is the word I’d use.”
Kali shuffled round so that they were face to face, trying to avoid as much body contact with Slowhand as she could. But it wasn’t easy – thigh pressed against thigh and breasts against torso – she could barely raise her arms before they were touching the smooth walls of their circular confinement.
“Closet?” Slowhand hazarded.
“There’s nothing in it.”
“We’re in it.”
“I’d noticed.”
“Okay. One of those elevators then?”
“Not going anywhere.”
“True.” Slowhand smiled as the tips of their noses touched, and he puckered up. “Maybe it’s a private lurrrvv chamber.”
“Then maybe Endless Passion would like to join you in here.” Kali said through gritted teeth.
“Hey, I already said, nothing happe –” The archer stopped, looking taken aback. “Hooper, are you hissing at me?”
“I do not hiss.” But she had heard the sound herself. “I thought it was, you know… your problem.”
“What problem? Hooper, I do not have a prob –”
/> If Kali had been able, she would have put her fingers to his lips, shushing him, but all she could do was body-bump him to keep him quiet. “I think you do now.”
There was indeed a hissing but neither of them were responsible for it. For a second, Kali worried that the chamber was flooding with gas like the others, but if it was it had no colour or odour. Then, both isolated the source at the same time and looked up. There was some kind of fan above, rotating ever more swiftly, and as Kali watched it was time for Slowhand’s hair to progress in an upward direction. Amusing as that was, it clearly wasn’t right. Neither was the fact that she was having difficulty breathing.
“Slowhand, do you feel hot, breathless, as if you’re expanding?”
“Every time I’m near you,” the archer said. The fact that he wheezed and his eyes bulged, took some of the humour out of it.
“I think something’s sucking the air out.”
“Oh, come on! Why would someone build a room that sucked the air out? Hooper, are you making eyes at me?”
“No. The pressure’s dropping, fast, and if we don’t get out of here right now, we’re dead.”
Despite the fact the k’nid still scrabbled no more than an inch away, she was willing to take her chances outside rather than in, and thumped the booth. But the door did not reopen. She tried again. Nothing.
“Must be on some kind of timer,” she said.
“What? Ow!”
“Ow?”
“My ears just popped!”
“Ow! Mine too. Hey, Slowhand, you know you’re getting fat?”
“Hey, you can talk!”
Kali stared at the archer, who was indeed fatter, his face, particularly, bloating to perhaps twice its normal size. She was aware of her own doing so, too. But it wasn’t just their faces – their whole bodies were starting to expand now, pressing them even more tightly together. Kali could see Slowhand’s blood vessels bulging on his temples and neck even as she felt her own blood beginning to pulse painfully in her veins. The air’s gone! she tried to say, but nothing came out – no sound at all – and across from her Slowhand’s mouth moved uselessly. Kali tried to reach her equipment belt for her breathing conch, but it was too late, their expanded forms too crushed, and instead all she could do was look at Slowhand in panic, noticing how his tongue had begun to swell from his mouth, as she felt her own doing from hers.
Hooper, Slowhand mouthed, though it was difficult to make out the forming of even that one word. She didn’t really need to, though, because the expression on her lover’s face said everything that he wanted to say. He was confused and knew they were going to die, but he was also glad he was by her side and wanted to say goodbye.
She mouthed his name in return, so very, very sorry that she had gotten him into this mess. Furious, too. But only with herself. Gods, how could this have happened so quickly? How could she have come so far only to let it end like this? By stupidly stumbling – stupidly dragging them both – into something she didn’t understand?
Her vision began to flare and darken until she could barely see Slowhand. Then, in that darkness, she felt her brain began to thud in time with her heartbeat, each beat clutching and agonising.
The beats got heavier and slower.
Heavier and slower.
Then her heart seemed to explode, and she no longer felt anything at all.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“HOOPER, CAN YOU hear me? Hooper?”
The voice filled her mind, resonant and familiar. All there was in an otherwise deep and dark world. She floated there until the voice spoke again, and this time shook at the sound of it. No, something shook her. Was shaking her, again and again. The darkness began to swoop about her, blooming and flaring with light, and then her mind seemed to surge upwards, bringing a dizzying confusion, a lurching imbalance and a desperate need to steady the world. But all it did was shake some more.
“Hooper? Hooper, dammit, wake up!”
She sat upright, her eyes snapping open. There was a man in front of her, holding her tightly by the arms. Instinctively, she nutted him.
“Ow! Dammit! Steaming pits of… easy, Hooper, it’s me.”
“Slowhand? Shit, sorry.”
“You okay?”
“Think so,” Kali said, though from the lump on the side of her head she’d taken one hells of a bump. She looked around, saw she was sitting on the floor of the booth. “What the hells happened?”
Slowhand pulled her to her feet. “Dunno. A noise. Don’t know how to describe it – wailing, spooky, like the sound of some old elven instrument. Whatever it was, it spooked the k’nid. They left the booth alone, disappeared, and the next thing I knew, the door opened and we were falling out. That’s where you got the bump.”
“Someone chased away the k’nid and let us out?”
“Looks that way. And that’s not all. One of the doors in the corridor – one that was sealed before – that opened, too.”
Kali raised an eyebrow. “Then why are we waiting? Let’s go meet our saviour.”
“Hold on. Our saviour could be the one who built that bloody deathtrap in the first place.”
“I don’t think it is a deathtrap.”
“Pitsing well feels like one to me. I mean, come on, Hooper, what else could it be?”
“Don’t know. But if the other door’s open, maybe it’s an invitation to find out?”
She moved out and, shaking his head, Slowhand followed. The pair passed through the unsealed door and neared another that was still sealed, seemingly a dead end until, somewhat unnervingly, it opened of its own accord. The same thing happened further on, and then again, their route clearly being manipulated through areas of the complex which, judging by the undisturbed layers of dust and cobwebs, the Final Faith had not been allowed to tread. In fact, these new chambers had a lonely feel to them that suggested to Kali that no one had entered them since the time of the Old Races themselves.
At last they came to a spiral staircase winding up the wall of an otherwise featureless chamber and both paused at its base, peering through thick and foreboding strings of cobweb to darkness above. The fact that the sphere shook at that moment seemed somehow appropriate.
“I think we’re there,” Kali said. She brushed the web aside and placed a tentative foot on the first riser. “Lair of the Dragon God, anyone?”
“Hooper, are you sure you – ?”
Kali gave him a look and Slowhand shut up. Because he knew that look – the look – the one of girlish excitement she couldn’t contain when she knew she was near some significant find. Sometimes he wondered why she just didn’t jump up and down, clapping her hands...
“There’s something here, ’Liam. I feel it. There’s intelligence here.”
Slowhand nodded, and the pair of them took the steps slowly, one at a time, until they emerged into a spacious, yet almost featureless chamber. The one feature it did contain, however, was another sphere. In this case a large, membranous one filled with a liquid clearer though not dissimilar to that in the birthing wells. Stirring within it was what appeared to be some kind of plant. A fragile, multi-stranded, frond-like affair that made Kali think of some wavering growth on the ocean floor.
“It’s a fish tank,” Slowhand said flatly, pulling a face. “Gotta say, bit anticlimactic.”
“Probably not a fish tank, Slowhand…” Kali said, patiently. She hoped not, anyway.
“Oh, come on. Can’t you just see some little gogglefish darting in and out of that water feature ther –”
The archer quietened as Kali touched the sphere and, in response, another voice overrode his own, booming around them.
“Welcome, Kali Hooper. I have awaited your arrival for a very long time.”
Kali and Slowhand stared at each other as the greeting resonated through the chamber, but while both waited in expectation of what might follow, no more words came. Kali stared around the chamber, hoping to discern the origin of the voice but, failing, fixed her attention back on the sp
here. She guessed some reply to the greeting might be in order but, in the circumstances, she wasn’t quite sure what she should say.
“Really?” she hazarded, after a second. “That’s nice.”
“That’s nice?” Slowhand repeated, incredulous. The more cautious archer was already readying Suresight to loose an arrow at anything that came at them. “You may have been around a bit but don’t you find the fact that something in this graveyard knows your name just a little disturbing?”
Kali couldn’t deny that she did find it disturbing. But not because she had been referred to by name – as far as she knew her name could simply have been overheard sometime during their explorations. No, what disturbed her was the fact that the voice had said she had been awaited. Because this reminded her once again of her conversation with the fish-thing in the ruins of Martak, and its comment then that she was where she should be. Ever since that encounter, she had railed against what that meant, and to be faced with a similar comment now brought back all the worries that somehow, without her knowledge or consent, her life was following a preordained path.
“Who are you?” she asked. “Where are you?”
“My being, all around you. My physical form, before you.”
“You? You’re – ?”