The Deplosion Saga

by Paul Anlee

  “You believe the intruder is Aelu, then?”

  “I believe the intruder is at least as capable as the Aelu and possibly more. Other than another Angel or Myself, it would be difficult to imagine a stronger adversary.”

  “The Aelo fought well, perhaps even better than an Angel would have.”

  Alum laughed and turned back to Mika. “My friend, though we have known each other for millions of years, you can still surprise me. I would not have thought it possible for you to admit such a thing.”

  Mika bowed his head. “Perhaps we require improvements in our design,” he suggested.

  Alum waved his hand dismissively. “I think you have proven yourselves admirably; you are up to the challenge. Let us not be overly concerned about minor collateral damage.” He touched the Angel’s shoulder. Instantly, they were in the more intimate environs of the well-appointed study they’d used for their last meeting. Strong, dark coffee sat steaming on the table between the sofas.

  “Perhaps we could think of improvements to our strategy in the encounter to come,” said Alum. “Let us discuss this further.”

  2

  A protective bubble of air appeared in outer space. Across the bottom surface was a small section of uprooted scrub from the planet Gargus 718.5. Its convex bottom traced the outline of the field that held the vacuum of space at bay. On the flat top of the dirt stood Brother Stralasi.

  “Where are we now?” he asked.

  He waited for Darak to answer. Sometimes his companion liked to take a moment to appreciate the beauty of a new planet from afar before shifting down to the surface.

  Looking straight ahead, Stralasi saw no planet, only a small, brilliant white sun with a hazy scattering of stars outlining a dim galaxy in the background. He glanced left and right. Around it, there was nothing but deep blackness of space, far darker and emptier than normal. Except for the glare of the sun directly in front, nothing else was visible.

  We must be outside any major cluster—he thought.

  “Darak?” No answer.

  Stralasi turned around to ask again. There was no one behind him. The Good Brother stood alone on the little patch of land in the traveling sphere.

  “Very funny,” he called out. “You can show yourself now.”

  Nothing. Stralasi held his hand out in front to shade his eyes from the sun, and inspected the immediate vicinity outside their air bubble. Had Darak stepped outside for a moment of private reflection? His moods can be a challenge to withstand. But even when he felt the need for silence, Darak never strayed far away. Outer space was the perfect sound barrier; a millimeter was as good as a kilometer.

  Stralasi saw no sign of his companion.

  He was alone!

  “Darak! Darak, where are you?” he called, a little more insistently this time. For that matter, where am I? Where is this? His thoughts flitted from question to question, all without answer. Has he abandoned me? Or is he nearby? How will I find him? What if something happens to him and I get stranded here? How will I get back to the Realm?

  Oh, sweet Alum, save me!—he implored, clenching his eyes tightly against his isolation. He gave Alum the Living God a moment to answer his prayer. Nothing.

  Sweet Alum, save me!—he repeated, over and over, rocking back and forth.

  He opened one eye first, hoping, and willed Darak to appear. Then, the other eye.

  He was still alone, and a deeper panic set in.

  Dear Alum, show me the way. What should I do? He clasped his hands in prayer and started pacing the length and breadth of the little piece of turf under his feet. He went around and around the tiny chunk of home. Gradually, his years of training and practice took hold.

  He remembered his calming exercises. He let his eyelids drift downward and shifted his focus to his breathing. He slowed his steps, and concentrated on emptying his mind. His pounding heart calmed.

  That’s it. Breathe in, two, three, four…and breathe out, two, three, four. Inhale goodness and light. Exhale darkness and fear.

  Still no sign of Darak. No planet nearby. No way to get out of here. The thoughts came without bidding and threatened to drag him back into the babbling, mindless morass of fear.

  He inhaled deeply, and squeezed the air out through pursed lips, pushing the terror away with his breath. He opened his eyes and turned his gaze outward, beyond the tiny piece of dirt and rock on which he stood.

  Keep calm and think!—he admonished himself. The way Darak always tells you. A shimmer of light below and off to one side drew his attention, but the ground beneath his feet blocked the view. He ventured to the edge of the small patch of turf, and shielded his vision from the glare of the sun to take a better look.

  His eyes traced the dim outline of a gray ribbon as far he could see in either direction. Its graceful arc curved inward following a solar orbital path, one normally occupied by a full planet. Clusters of color glowed from the inner surface. Bright whites, blues, browns, and greens.

  A ringworld!

  He’d only seen such a place from space once, during his last time playing tourist before joining classmates at the central Alumita on Home World.

  As the oldest and most important part of the Realm—apart from the Hall of Alum in the Origin system—Home World had long ago converted the resources of its entire system into such an artifact. In fact, not one, but two ringworlds now circled the Home World sun.

  The architectural origin of the ringworlds was lost in antiquity and muddled folklore. Alum preferred people not to think about the distant past outside of the official history.

  In some of the more persistent stories, ringworlds were associated with a man called Niven. Regardless of its origins, the basic design continued to be the best way to provide a comfortable habitat for enormous numbers of humans around a single sun. Other clever designs had been tried and abandoned; the ringworld outlasted them all.

  The ringworld was, as its name suggested, a single giant construct, a circular ribbon surrounding a central sun. The diameter varied from system to system, depending on the intensity of the sun at its center. Ringworlds spun at a rate that provided one Standard gravity to its inhabitants.

  Most ringworlds—if the word “most” could be used to describe something so rarely constructed—boasted a living surface about a million kilometers wide. High outer walls at the edge held in an agreeable atmosphere. Day and night were provided by enormous dark sheets that ran on rails along the walls above the atmosphere.

  A ring encircling its sun at a distance of two-hundred-million kilometers could provide over a thousand trillion square kilometers of living space. A single ringworld offered enough space to comfortably fit one hundred trillion people, ten percent of the entire population of all other planets in a galaxy. No wonder there weren’t many of them. They were not yet needed.

  Now, why would there be a ringworld way out here far from the major part of the Realm?—Stralasi wondered.

  Pop! Stralasi jumped, momentarily startled by the unexpected sound behind him.

  At last, Darak has decided to join me! He turned, a broad, relieved smile already forming on his face.

  With his first glimpse of the source of the sound, the Good Brother stumbled backward to the edge of the bubble.

  Heart pounding, he dropped to one knee and fixed his gaze on the surprisingly delicate bare feet of the three-meter tall Angel sharing his small sphere. He didn’t dare look into what he knew would be beautiful, deadly eyes.

  “That really isn’t necessary,” said a mellifluous, yet oddly familiar, voice tinged with a dry humor Stralasi recognized. He couldn’t believe it, yet he was compelled to raise his eyes.

  The face before him was a more youthful and handsome version of Darak, if he looked past its swirling, mercurial skin.

  Stralasi nearly fainted. Instead, he managed to squeak out, “Wha…? How…? Darak…?”

  The Angel smiled, took Stralasi’s hands, and helped him to his feet.

  “Yes, it truly is me,” sai
d the Angel. “Or one version of me.” He looked at his own silvery hands and admired the opalescent wings extending from his back.

  The creature laughed, and the sound was joyful music to Stralasi’s ears. “It has been a long time since I appeared to anyone in this body,” Darak said. “What do you think?” He struck a gallant posture, his hands fixed to the hilt of a gray carbyne sword.

  Stralasi didn’t know what to think. How was this possible? His mind raced with contradictions and confusion. “You once stated that you were neither Shard nor Demon,” he said, “and yet you are clearly more than just a man. Are you an Angel, sent by the Living God to test me?”

  From a meter above Stralasi’s upturned eyes, Darak answered quietly, thoughtfully. “Truly, I am all of these and more. And because I am more, I am not exactly any single one. But sent by Alum? No.”

  Darak looked out at the ringworld. “Have you perused your surroundings? Can you deduce where we are?”

  Stralasi turned away from the Angel despite a lifetime of training screaming out to him that such an action could warrant instant death. But, despite his appearance, this was undoubtedly Darak. He pointed to the arc.

  “Clearly, we are near a ringworld, though I am not familiar with this one. I’ve seen videocasts of all such habitats within the Realm, but I don’t recall this one. I can’t imagine why Alum would build such a magnificent place in such an unremarkable location.”

  “Yes, this one is unique,” answered the Angel, Darak. “Why do you judge its location to be unremarkable?”

  “Its sun is either extremely distant or tiny,” replied Stralasi. “Something in its appearance makes me think it is more likely to be tiny. And I’ve never seen a night sky so devoid of light, which makes me think we must be near the edge of some small and insignificant galaxy.”

  Imagine!--Stralasi marveled. Here I am, a humble monk of the Alumita, discussing astronomy with an Angel, while floating in an isolated bit of air and earth, suspended in outer space some small distance from an unknown ringworld. He shook his head in wonder.

  “It is a small star, that is true,” confirmed Darak. “And it is near the edge of a thin galaxy with few stars and a great deal of dark gasses. It’s unique because it is the farthest in the Realm from any of Alum’s other worlds.”

  Stralasi looked back over his shoulder. “Distance is meaningless in Alum’s Realm,” he cited by rote. “All worlds are no more than a few starsteps from all other worlds.”

  “True,” Darak answered. “But not all worlds in the Realm—or rather, not all worlds formerly in the Realm—have starsteps.”

  A horrified Stralasi turned back toward the ringworld as if scouting for signs of dangerous activity. “Rebels!” he realized.

  “Indeed. My rebels, in fact.”

  “Your rebels?” Stralasi struggled to process this new bit of information. This Angel, sometimes a Shard, sometimes a god, sometimes only a man, laying claim to leading rebels?

  And not just any rebels. Rebels who somehow managed to build that pinnacle of technological achievement, a ringworld, while disconnected from Alum’s guidance? Had he not known Darak so well, he would have scoffed. Except, as incredible as it sounded, he was sure it was true.

  “Well, not my rebels, exactly. I helped them gain their independence a long time ago,” explained Darak. “I still carry a good deal of affection and admiration for their efforts. I don’t own them or anything like that. They are no more mine than they were Alum’s.”

  He pointed to the arc of the ringworld. “Frankly, I’m a little surprised they lasted long enough to build something like this. Rebellions that aren’t put down quickly usually fracture of their own accord due to internal strife, or they just fizzle out like a faulty rocket. Especially given where we are, this is impressive.”

  “And where exactly are we?” Stralasi asked, turning to confront the Angel.

  “In the ancient catalogs, this galaxy was known as ESO 461-36. It’s notable for being the only galaxy within a region known as the Local Void. It’s a strange small, dark galaxy just outside the plane of the so-called Local Cluster that includes the Milky Way. The nearest galaxy is over eight million light years away, and the Origin galaxy is over twenty-five million light years away.

  “The ESO galaxy is unusual, so unusual that Alum went out of His way to place an exploratory colony here, as humanity expanded toward the Virgo Cluster. As a remote outpost in a sparsely-populated galaxy far off the main path of expansion, it wasn’t considered important enough to warrant quashing my little rebellion there twenty-million odd years ago.”

  “You helped the rebels twenty million years ago?”

  “Indeed. And having just contacted the authorities here, and received their greetings, it seems the descendants of that rebellion still enjoy their independence.”

  Darak noticed Stralasi’s stunned expression. “I’m as surprised as you are. Alum seldom permits rebellions to go unpunished.”

  “That’s not it,” corrected the incredulous Brother. “You contacted the authorities?”

  “Oh, that. Yes, I used my old verification codes. It’s interesting that they’ve actually remembered them for so long. They should arrive soon.”

  “They’ll be here? Soon?” Stralasi felt his knees go weak again. It was one thing to confront an Angel; it was another to confront rebels. Angels carried out Alum’s Will. That is, all the Angels he knew of did. Rebels were loyal to no one but themselves. Who knew what aims or guidelines they might have. Then he remembered who he was with. Darak wouldn’t permit any harm to come to him…would he?

  “Yes. I thought that since we arrived unexpectedly, it’d be best to announce our presence and permit the local leaders to escort us in from the ancient rendezvous point in whatever manner they see fit.”

  There was much unspoken history in Darak’s answer. As usual—thought Stralasi. Struggling to make sense of everyone and everything around him felt like a normal state when he was with Darak. “Is it even possible they would remember you after so much time?”

  Darak held his arms out to either side. “I used the ancient protocols, and have assumed the expected appearance. So far, they are responding as I would have hoped. It would appear they’ve kept their promise to me over these impossibly many years. Let us see what kind of reception we are accorded. Ahh, and here they are!”

  Stralasi looked to the ringworld arc in time to see a bright flame shoot from a barely perceptible, decelerating vehicle of some sort. A rocket? No one uses rockets in the Realm anymore. But he’d studied them at the Alumita and was certain that’s what was bearing down on them.

  Judging by the brightness of its exhaust, the ship was braking hard as it approached. The ship was aiming straight for them. He glanced back at Darak.

  Couldn’t the Angel tell they were minutes, perhaps seconds, away from being fried? Maybe he thought their bubble would protect them. Darak’s Angel body might be impervious to heat and violent concussion, but his own body was not. He opened his mouth to say something.

  The flare drew closer and Stralasi saw it was angled slightly away from them. Whoever guided the vehicle was approaching their shell in such a way that the exhaust would avoid them. The flame diminished in ferocity.

  Darak smiled. Had he been aware of Stralasi’s anxiety? The Brother was uncertain. He wasn’t at all comforted by his memories of the demon/god/Angel’s sense of humor when he saw Stralasi’s previous reactions to clearly terrifying circumstances. He frowned and turned back to watch the approaching vessel.

  The main drive cut off within a few kilometers of the sphere. Its relative velocity slowed to a few meters per second, and small attitudinal jets completed the maneuvering.

  Brother Stralasi could finally confirm that it was some kind of spaceship, cylindrical, about thirty meters long and ten in diameter.

  The ship came to rest alongside their bubble but did nothing further. The windows were dark and reflective, giving no hint as to who or what was waiting inside. The
re were no interior or exterior lights; there was no communication and no movement.

  Stralasi wondered what they were supposed to do. Were they communicating with Darak telepathically? Could Darak simply shift them inside? He assumed there must be an internal compartment of some sort, judging by the presence of glass-covered viewing ports along the side of the cylinder.

  A large door opened in the adjacent craft and Darak moved them forward—air, dirt, and all—into the waiting hold. Stralasi realized that he’d been holding his breath and released it slowly. They slid forward into the darkness.

  “Is there no way we can cast some light on the inside of this vessel?” he asked the Angel.

  “My apologies,” replied Darak. “In my excitement, I forgot.”

  Their protective shell cast a diffused glow around them as they passed deeper into the ship. The addition of light didn’t help. The chamber into which they were moving had no discernible features. Smooth, dull gray walls with no protuberance, attachment, or discontinuity surrounded them.

  Stralasi hoped Darak knew what he was doing, trusting this ship to be friendly. Well, if it had been sent to capture us, the owners will be in for a big surprise. He had no idea of the ship’s capabilities, but the destructive might of an Angel was legendary.

  I only hope that if a fight does break out, Darak remembers to keep me safe.

  The few stars visible behind them were slowly occluded by the closing door. We’re committed now—he thought, trying to assess any hint of concern on Darak’s mercurial face. The Angel seemed to have serenely accepted being swallowed up by the ship.

  With the door closed, the wall appeared completely seamless. There was no hint of where the hatch had been.

  “Now what?” asked the Brother.

  “Now we wait until we arrive at a ringworld docking station,” Darak replied. “It shouldn’t be long.”

  The Brother steadied himself against the wall, waiting to feel the jerk of acceleration. He bent his knees expectantly.