He was positive that was what he had heard. Or felt, or sensed. The Krang was still alive. He was still alive.
Now he had to make his attempt while keeping it that way.
Above his head a coiled Pip twitched and spasmed, the unthinking Alaspinian minidrag serving as a lens to focus and intensify her master's feelings. As he had on the weapons platform, Flinx tried reaching out. He was but dimly aware of the vast play of light and sound that was going on around him. Would the ancient artifact respond to his mental push with more than just color and harmony and the tintinnabulation of alien percussion?
“You remember me,” he struggled to project. To feel. It was the mental equivalent of expectantly spreading his hands to his sides.
It was sufficient.
Naisma was established.
CLASS-A MIND … I REMEMBER YOU. YOU COME SEEKING HELP TO DEAL WITH THE THREAT THAT APPROACHES FROM BEYOND THE RIM.
Having no time to waste on it, Flinx withheld his astonishment. “You know of it?”
IT DOMINATES. IT LOOMS. IT THREATENS ALL OF EVERYTHING. HOW COULD IT EXIST UNOBSERVED?
Enthralled, he thought back to one singular experience of the past several years—and then to another, and another.
“You've been with me, of me. You pushed me to perceive the Evil.”
ISELF, AND OTHERS.
“What others?” Flinx contorted slightly on the platform.
OTHERS WHO KNOW YOU. OTHERS YOU CAN KNOW BUT I CANNOT. OTHERS WHO ARE AS DIFFERENT FROM ONE ANOTHER AS YOU ARE FROM I. BUT OTHERS WHO ALSO KNOW AND FEAR THAT WHICH THREATENS ALL. SOMEHOW YOU ARE THE KEY TO THE ONLY CHANCE OF STOPPING IT. YOU ARE THE ONLY LINK THAT EXISTS BETWEEN US.
The key. Flinx had heard that before. In dreams both asleep and awake. What was he now? Asleep? Awake? Or drifting in a state of which no physiologist had dreamed and for which there was therefore no definition.
“Why me?” he asked, not for the first time.
YOU ARE AN ANOMALY. YOU ARE A SINGULARITY. NOTHING THAT CAN BE PREDICTED CAN HALT THE AD VANCE OF THE THREAT. WHAT YOU ARE IS—NOT PREDICTABLE.
“I understand. I and my friends have given much time and thought to possible ways of stopping or diverting the menace that comes for all. There is another like you, another built-mind of the Tar-Aiym. I have seen it, been on it, communicated with it. Its structure contains multiples of yourself and the great force you can project. I and my friends believe it may be strong enough to stop the Evil.”
I CANNOT MOVE. I AM FIXED TO THIS PLACE, AND TO THE CORE OF THIS WORLD THAT POWERS ME. I CANNOT FIGHT THE INVADER. NOR CAN THE OTHERS. NOT ALONE. PERHAPS TOGETHER WE MIGHT DO SOMETHING—YET WE DO NOT KNOW HOW. AS THE KEY, WE HAVE THOUGHT YOU MIGHT KNOW THE WAY.
The way? What was the Krang talking about? The only “way” Flinx knew was the possible one he had debated with Truzenzuzex and Tse-Mallory.
“I do have one idea,” he explained solemnly. “Reach out, if you can. Seek the individuality that is akin to but greater than yours. Define and locate and enlighten it. Give me the coordinates. I and my friends will go to it. I will lie therein as I lie here, and give that of myself that no one and nothing else seems able to give—be it some kind of ‘key’ or whatever. If you and the triad of my dreamings can be there with me, at that moment, then we will see if the combining of our thoughts and minds somehow works to stop what is coming to destroy all.”
As sound and color raged throughout its structure, the Krang within was silent. Then: IT SEEMS TO ME NOT THE WAY. IT SEEMS TO ME NOT ENOUGH STRENGTH. IT SEEMS TO ME NOT ENOUGH OF ENOUGH. BUT … YOU ARE THE CLASS-A MIND. I WILL COMPLY. MEANWHILE … BE STILL, AND AT PEACE, AND … WAIT.
Outside the dome Clarity was doing her best to restrain herself. So intense was the all-enveloping color and so luminous the lightning that she could no longer see Flinx where he lay on the interior platform. Primordial alien harmony continued to hammer at her ears and assault her sanity. In the shadow of Tse-Mallory's and Truzenzuzex's continuing composure, she forced herself to stay calm.
But as the light storm shattered her senses she could not keep her fear from continuing to deepen.
“Are you sure he's all right?” she yelled at Tse-Mallory.
Eyes of deepest, clearest blue peered into her own. “We can't be sure of anything here, Clarity!” A long arm waved to take in their heaven-storming surroundings. “We can't know anything for certain until this stops!”
It was no comfort, no comfort at all. But she was too focused, too engaged, and frankly too enraptured by what was swirling around her to cry.
Flinx could feel himself being drawn outward. He did not marvel or wonder at the sensation, having experienced it numerous times before. Born on the strength of the Krang's projection, he soared through space. Stars passed by in the wink of a mental eye, sprawling nebulae appeared and vanished in an instant of thought. Seeking, searching, uniting—until at last a connection was made. Feeble at first, it strengthened quickly when a response was received. There came a kind of joy he could not share as artifact made contact with artifact. He was present at the exchange, he perceived, but even though his facilitator tried, little of what transpired could be imparted to him.
Two machine minds were exchanging communication. Two artificial intelligences that had previously been unaware of one another's existence. After five hundred thousand years, like was communicating with like. It was curt, it was efficient, it was enabled. Much simplified, it was two weapons talking to one another. Two weapons, at least one of which had the capacity to destroy worlds. The entire passage of information, during which the equivalent of many complete libraries was exchanged, took less than one minute.
Key, he thought. Trigger. Such power as the wandering Tar-Aiym platform represented. Would it be enough? The Krang didn't seem to think so. But it had to be tried. There was nothing else.
It was over as soon as it had begun. He felt himself receding, falling back, his perception shrinking. Down past suns and worlds unknown, through vortices of energy and disks of dark matter; back, back toward a single dead world circling a long forgotten sun.
He opened his eyes. Actual purple momentarily replaced visual purple, and then both were gone in a double blink. An echo of symphonies unimagined echoed briefly in his ears, already fading to pianissimo. The voice that was replacing it and growing rapidly stronger was familiar.
“Flinx, Flinx!” Clarity was atop the dais and at his side as soon as he straightened and slipped out from beneath the inner dome. He would have reached for her except that he felt a weight falling from his head. Extending his arms, he caught Pip just as she tumbled. The minidrag was completely spent, completely limp, and if possible even more exhausted than her master.
With him holding the flying snake it was difficult for Clarity to kiss him, but she did her best. Tse-Mallory was next at his side, helping support him. Behind them Flinx saw the two thranx looking on and gesturing concern. Above and in the distance, colors were fading as they retreated like pale syrup down the multitude of cylinders that lined the towering interior walls of the Krang.
Tse-Mallory didn't waste time. “Anything? How did it go? Familiar, new, shocking, reassuring—say something. Talk to me, Flinx.”
Heedless of both the sociologist's physical size and intellectual stature, Clarity interposed herself between him and his subject. “Leave him alone—for a while, anyway. Can't you see that he's completely drained?” Without waiting for Tse-Mallory's response, she turned back to Flinx. “Are you all right? Can I get you something from the skimmer?”
He took a step and nearly fell. Between Clarity and Tse-Mallory, he did not. “Water. Water would be—good.”
Whirling, she raced down the dais to where they had stacked the supplies they had brought from the skimmer. Following more slowly, Flinx and Tse-Mallory were joined by Sylzenzuzex and her Eighth.
“What was it like, Flinx?” With both left hands Syl gestured back at the now dormant platform. “What happened there, under all that noise a
nd light and color?”
“Contact occurred,” he told her weakly, “and it was tiring.”
“I can see that. You were a brave boy, once,” Truzenzuzex told him. “Now that bravery is backed by maturity.”
A weary Flinx smiled down at his old mentor. “Don't count on it. How many minutes was I under?”
“Minutes?” The philosoph looked to his human companion. “Do I misinterpret the chrono?”
“You do not,” Tse-Mallory assured him. He met Flinx's quizzical gaze. “You were lying in state for just under four hours, my young friend.”
Pondering the disparity between perception and reality, Flinx summed up with an observation that was wholly typical. “That would explain why I'm starving as well as thirsty.”
As soon as they were clear of the dais, his companions helped him take a seat on one of the impervious benches that had once served as resting places for Tar-Aiym. Despite his exhaustion he refused to lie down, preferring to remain upright as he drank, ate, and slowly regained his strength. A little water and some appropriate nutrients were enough to revive Pip.
“You said that contact occurred.” Sylzenzuzex was so close that in his weakened state her distinctive perfume threatened to overpower him. “What kind of contact? With the Krang?”
“No. First, there was interchange between myself and the Krang.” He looked up over the water bottle he was holding at the two attentive scientists. “I explained our need. Though doubtful as to its potential, the machine complied with my request. It extended itself. Contact was made with the wandering relic.”
Truzenzuzex and Tse-Mallory exchanged elated murmurs. “You learned its location?” Flinx nodded. The philosoph turned to his human colleague. “We must make preparations to leave here and set out on the relevant vector as quickly as possible.”
Clarity immediately moved protectively closer to Flinx. “What's the matter with you people? Look at him! Don't you realize how frail he is? He needs time to rest and regain his full strength.” Her tone darkened. “He's not an instrument, damn it!”
Tse-Mallory did not blink, did not look away as he replied to her. “I'm afraid, my dear, that he is.”
“Well, I don't care what you think. I've been exposed to this impending horror in more depth than any of you, and I know it won't be here tomorrow, or the next day. There's nothing that can't wait a day or two.”
“The weapons platform whose assistance we seek may not wait,” Truzenzuzex told her. “In a day or two it may travel millions of units of distance. In a week, tens of millions.” He eyed Flinx as the latter sipped from a flexible, self-chilling liquids container. “One does not dawdle with the fate of civilization at stake.”
“It doesn't matter.” Draining the last of the bottle's contents, Flinx leaned against Clarity. Sliding downward, he ended up with his head in her lap. Pip took the opportunity to slither onto her master's body, forming a series of solid serpentine coils on his stomach.
In the absence of eyelids Truzenzuzex's gaze could not narrow, but his tone conveyed the same effect. “What do you mean, ‘it doesn't matter’? Are you once again sliding into depression even as you slide backward on your fundament?”
“No, not at all.” Flinx gazed contently up at Clarity, who bestowed on him the smile that never failed to improve all manner of injuries, physical and otherwise. “I mean that it doesn't matter because we don't need to hurry to make contact with the weapons platform.”
Tse-Mallory eyed the ever-unpredictable youth uncertainly. “Why not? What Tru just stated holds true.”
“I realize that.” With a pained sigh Flinx closed his eyes, this time, he hoped, to see, feel, and experience as little as possible. “I mean that we don't have to hurry to make contact with the weapons platform because it's coming here….”
Flinx knew what was coming because the Krang had communicated that much to him and because he had sensed it for himself, but a time frame had not been part of the exchange. The weapons platform was coming to Booster. If the Krang was to be believed, that much was a certainty. When it would arrive the great machine could not say. When Tse-Mallory gently suggested to Flinx that he go back under the dome and try to find out, Clarity Held went up one side of the brawny sociologist and down the other. Flinx himself had no way of knowing what another attempt so soon at communication with the ancient alien device might do to him. It might result in him receiving a dose of cerebral enhancement, as had the original connection years earlier. Or his simple organically wired human brain might finally snap under the strain.
So they waited. While they did so, Clarity and Flinx and Sylzenzuzex took to exploring the sprawling dead city while the two scientists amused themselves trying to extract harmonic fractals from the recording the skimmer had made of the Tar-Aiym music.
A week passed before the Teacher relayed an alarm from shuttlecraft to the skimmer and onward to their individual communits.
“Something has emerged from space-plus to assume a position beyond this system's outermost planet.”
“I know.” Flinx hastened to reassure his vessel's wary AI. “The visitor is expected.”
“Recognizing it and recalling its capabilities, I am most relieved to hear that, Flinx. Its parameters appear to be unchanged. It is as we encountered it previously, some six years ago. The exact time of concurrence …”
“Not necessary,” Flinx told his ship. “I remember.”
“You remember everything.” The ship was not trying to flatter, merely stating fact.
“The luxury of forgetfulness is one that always seems to escape me.” Twisting his head, he glanced down at Pip. The minidrag was sleeping soundly on his shoulder. Seeing his pet so often at peace, he regretted being unable to change places with her.
Rising from where he was sitting deep at the edge of the amphitheater, he tilted back his head to take what might well be his last look at the interior of the Krang. The strangely persistent fog that hung near the distant apex, the ranks of cylinders and pipes that lined the inwardly inclined walls, the operator's dais: sights and memories that had been with him since early adolescence had now been refreshed in adulthood. He would carry them with him always. As the Teacher's AI had just reminded him, he never forgot.
Because they were leaving this place behind physically did not mean it would be out of his mind any more than it had been absent from his recurring, often cryptic dreams.
Having had the newly arrived Tar-Aiym artifact described to them by Flinx, Tse-Mallory and Truzenzuzex were eager to see it for themselves. In her capacity as a security officer for the United Church, Sylzenzuzex had a professional interest in any kind of unauthorized and unrecorded weapons system. And while Clarity was primarily interested in Flinx's health and well-being, she had to admit that she was not entirely devoid of curiosity regarding the visitor herself.
“It's really that big?” she asked as they stepped out of the shuttlecraft and back into the holding bay in the underside of the Teacher.
“No.” He didn't smile and was not joking. “It's bigger. You'll see.”
Booster's tired and now distant sol-type star boasted the classic array of rocky inner worlds and outer gas giants. Heading outsystem in normal space, they passed several of these uninhabited, unnamed orbs. It was not necessary to skim so close in order to make rendezvous with the artifact, but the two scientists would not hear of leaving without using the opportunity to make at least a few nominal measurements in passing.
When the Teacher began its approach, everyone gathered in the ship's control room to have a look out the main foreport. Despite what Flinx had told them of the relic, Sylzenzuzex still confessed to bemusement as she gazed upon the spherical object that occupied the space forward and slightly to port.
“Where is it, tlacchk?”
“You're looking at it.” Standing behind her, Flinx gazed out at the alien sphere from which he had barely escaped with his life some half-dozen years before.
“You mean,” she clicked, “it's in
orbit above the surface somewhere?”
“No,” he told her. “I mean that's it. The vessel. The Tar-Aiym weapons platform.”
It did not matter that he had described the artifact to them. Saying that a vessel was planet-sized was one thing. Trying to comprehend the actuality of something so immense was, as he knew well, entirely different.
It looked just as he remembered it from the encounter years ago, when he had been forced to explore its outermost level while being pursued by human assassins, rapacious AAnn, and—one other. He forced himself to push the disturbing memories into the past, to file them in the overflowing folder of similar unsettling incidents from his history. It was all over and done with, and for the sake of everyone he needed to concentrate on the present.
As a planet the cloud-swathed globe was not especially impressive. As a ship, an artificial construct, it exceeded anything humanxkind had ever contemplated except in moments of drugged engineering fantasy and conceptual delirium. Stippled with flecks of yellow and dark red, the thick gaseous cloud cover shone a dreary bronze in the faint light of the distant sun. Leaning over the forward console, Clarity pointed as an irritated Scrap struggled to keep from slipping off her left shoulder.
“Look there, in the northern hemisphere. Is that a storm?”
Flinx looked to where she was pointing. He knew what the vortex she had singled out portended. The storm was as artificial as the colossal mechanism that had created it.
“I'm pretty sure it's a sign that our presence has been acknowledged,” he told her. What he did not add was that the Tar-Aiym artifact, which was twice the size of the Earth, might be putting forth a welcome because it remembered him from last time.
The Teacher might subscribe to the same theory, but all it said was, “I am receiving a directional signal.”
“Follow it,” Flinx replied crisply. Clarity looked over at him.
“I know you've had contact with this—vessel—before, Flinx, but shouldn't we be taking some kind of precautions before going down? Shield activation, maybe, or initiation of—”
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