Convergence hu-4

by Charles Sheffield

  She came to the entrance and halted again. When a person was so consistently wrong, it was time to give up having opinions.

  The elongated bubble of the vault ahead contained no sign of the hail of orange particles that had threatened them on entry. What it held instead was a single humpbacked object at its far end. Small, and of an unfamiliar design, but certainly a ship.

  “Kallik, can you hear me?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Then tell your buddy that he was quite right. There is a ship through here.” Darya hesitated. This one carried no sign of weapons. Nothing moved on its surface. Was it possible that she was facing a dead vessel, a derelict that had floated in Labyrinth for eons?

  “Kallik, you can tell the Tenthredans that this is not their sister ship. It’s much smaller, and a completely different design. I’m going to take a closer look. If there is anyone inside I will try to make contact with them.”

  There. That was one way to force yourself to take a dangerous action. Announce an intention, and then be too embarrassed to admit that you were afraid to go through with it. Darya wondered how a professional would approach a situation like this. There seemed to be few options. The ship itself did nothing to suggest any interest in her presence.

  She examined the hull in front of her, then headed for the single lock. It was a standard design, used everywhere from the inner worlds of the Fourth Alliance to the farthest reaches of the Zardalu Communion. She knew just how it worked. No excuse for backing off and returning to the unpleasant company of the Tenthredans.

  Darya reached for the manual control on the outside of the lock. It turned easily in her grip. She rotated the control all the way and swung the airtight hatch inward on its beveled hinge.

  As she entered the airlock she swore a silent oath: If she emerged from this alive, she would never again poke fun at Professor Merada and his quiet, cloistered life on Sentinel Gate.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Hans Rebka stood in front of the Treel sisters, sharply aware of their glowering disbelief. He couldn’t blame them. The old term for the problem was “credibility gap.”

  Maddy, Lissie, and Katerina had been stranded in the interior of Paradox. They were facing eventual starvation, but that was a form of death they understood.

  Along came E.C. Tally: a human male, a man, which counted as a major strike against him, but at least a man who might offer possible salvation. Then Tally had explained that he had not come to save them. He was trapped himself, and he knew of no way out; and anyway he was not a man. After a lot of explanation, they were beginning to believe him.

  Enter Hans Rebka. Definitely a man, and a friend of E.C. Tally, who brought with him the bad news that the prison of Paradox was no longer as safe as it seemed. He had led them out of their chamber — but not to safety. No. He had taken them and the Misanthrope into a diabolical ink-swirl that he called a vortex, and it had wrung them out like wet dishcloths until they had wanted to die.

  They had survived. And were they safe when they finally emerged? That was a matter of opinion. Certainly they were no longer anywhere within Paradox, or any other place that Rebka or Tally had ever been or heard of. They had arrived inside some strange new prison. Rebka had made it clear that so far as he knew the vortex had flung them into unknown territory. He could tell them nothing about the place. It might be no more than a different choice of tomb.

  Enter J’merlia. An alien who had certainly not been with Rebka and Tally on Paradox, a life-form very far from human, but a life-form known to Hans Rebka and E.C. Tally. And vice versa. When J’merlia had entered the Misanthrope he had greeted the others joyfully, as long-absent friends.

  Was Hans expected to explain all this to the Treel sisters?

  He couldn’t explain any of it, even to himself. Instead, he was asking his own questions.

  “Let’s get this straight.” He had persuaded J’merlia to shed his suit, then closed the hatch on the Misanthrope and locked it. “You say that you and Kallik and Darya went to Sentinel? Why there?”

  “We know the Sentinel artifact,” Maddy Treel said gruffly. “But who the devil are Kallik, and Darya?”

  “They are both females. That should please you.” Rebka found himself glaring at the senior Treel sister. It was tempting to start playing battle-of-the-sexes. But that would solve nothing. “I’m sorry. Darya Lang is a researcher on Sentinel Gate. She compiled the Lang Universal Artifact Catalog. And Kallik is a Hymenopt with whom we’ve all worked before. J’merlia, are you suggesting that this is Sentinel, where we are now? It’s nothing like any description of Sentinel that I’ve ever seen.”

  “Oh, no.” J’merlia was as confused as anyone, but he was obviously delighted to be with Rebka and Tally. Finally, he had someone to make his decisions for him. “We left Sentinel because it had changed and was not at all as we expected. We went on to a different artifact: Labyrinth.”

  “No such artifact!” Lissie glared at Hans Rebka. “What are you trying to pull? We know the Lang Catalog as well as anyone. There’s nothing in there called Labyrinth.”

  “It’s a new artifact.” He didn’t expect that comment to be well-received. It wasn’t.

  “Bullshit! All the artifacts are millions of years old.” Lissie turned to E.C. Tally for support. “You say you don’t have circuits that allow you to lie. So tell me: How old are the Builder artifacts?”

  “All are at least three million years old — except for Labyrinth, which does appear to be quite new.” E.C. Tally had hoped for facts, and was getting arguments instead. “If you would just permit J’merlia to complete his explanations…”

  “He’s right.” Unexpected support came from Katerina Treel. She had taken a strand of her long, dark hair and was thoughtfully chewing on it. Socially acceptable behavior on Darby’s Lick. It almost made Hans Rebka nostalgic for home, back in the crudities of the Phemus Circle.

  “I don’t care how old things are,” Katerina went on. “I’ll settle for just three things. Number one, I want to know where we are now. Number two, I want to know how to get out of here, and back to open space. And number three, I want no more damned surprises.” She turned to J’merlia. “Now, get on with it.”

  “But that’s what I was trying to tell you.” J’merlia had wondered when he would be allowed to speak again. “We went to a planet called Jerome’s World, and then on to Labyrinth. We found a way in, and we followed a path that led all the way to a central chamber. But we had been forced to leave our ship, the Myosotis, in the outer part of Labyrinth. So while the others examined the middle chamber, I went back to make sure that the ship was all right. I located the Myosotis, in the same condition as when I left it. But then I made a mistake. You see, Labyrinth has thirty-seven separate sections, or it did when we entered. I think it has a lot less now, it keeps changing—”

  “Like everywhere else,” Maddy said grumpily.

  “ — but I accidentally went through into another part of the interior, and I couldn’t get back to where I started. I was still trying to return to the Myosotis when I saw your ship.”

  “Hold it there.” Maddy held up her hand. “Let’s make sure we understand what you’re telling us. First, we’re sitting right now inside an artifact called Labyrinth?”

  “Correct.”

  “And Labyrinth is new — that’s why it’s not in the Lang Catalog?”

  J’merlia hesitated, and Maddy caught that hesitation.

  “Is it new, or isn’t it?”

  “I was assured that it is new, by Darya Lang and everyone else. But I am not sure.” J’merlia told of what he had seen in his long wanderings through Labyrinth, of desiccated black batlike figures, of human skeletons in ancient suits, and of long-dead five-eyed marine giants like nothing in the whole spiral arm. Worst of all, to his eyes, had been the silent forms of a dozen Cecropians, so untouched by death that only a breath seemed needed to bring the Lo’tfian dominatrices back to life.

  His listeners sat in silence when
he was finished. Maddy Treel finally cleared her throat. “All right. Labyrinth is supposed to be new, but it has old things in it. Maybe they got here the same way we did. But we won’t solve anything by sitting here. The main thing is, do you know the way out?”

  “I do. It is very simple. All you have to do is head along the direction of the spiral tube that increases in size. You should come to one of the exit points.”

  “Fine. So that takes care of the second of Katerina’s want list. We can get out of here. And I say let’s do it, right now. We’d like more explanations, but they can wait.”

  “But what about Darya Lang and Kallik?”

  “You told us yourself that they should have no trouble reaching your ship, and it’s intact. You couldn’t find your way back there, but that was your own fault. Anyway, this is our ship, and we use it as we choose. Katerina, you heard what we have to do. We follow the direction of the expanding spiral, and it takes us back to open space. Let’s go, before something else happens. I agree with you, we don’t want any more surprises.”

  Maddy Treel had been leaning against the cabin wall. She suddenly sat upright and cocked her head. Rebka, Tally, J’merlia, and her two sisters were all sitting in front of her. But the faint sound she could hear was coming from behind her. It was the air-lock of the Misanthrope, opening and closing on its molecular hinges.

  Maddy sighed, and swore under her breath. Katerina’s third want was going to remain unsatisfied.

  * * *

  The explanations started all over again with a new level of tension, helped slightly by the fact that Darya Lang was indisputably a woman. She had given Hans Rebka a single look of anger and disdain, then ignored him. The Treel sisters liked that. After presenting a united front for a while they had now changed to what Rebka suspected was their natural condition. They were beginning to squabble among themselves, Lissie and Katerina kicking back against Maddy’s age and presumption of seniority.

  They finally agreed to listen to Darya’s story, but patience and polite behavior didn’t last very long. Darya began well, disposing of one source of J’merlia’s perplexity in two sentences. “Labyrinth is new, but it contains old things that had been locked inside other artifacts for ages and then were brought here. Just as you were brought here.”

  “So I was right,” Maddy said.

  “I’m not an old thing,” E.C. Tally objected. “I’m almost new.”

  “And I don’t give a damn whether Labyrinth is full of something old,” Katerina interrupted. “Or something new, or even something borrowed and something blue.”

  “Orange,” said E.C. Tally. “The Builders prefer orange.”

  Katerina glared at him. “Are you sure you’re not a man? As I was trying to point out, we were brought here, and that’s enough for me. Who cares if Labyrinth is crammed to the rafters with Tenthredans, or Hymenopts, or Lo’tfians, or purple-spotted blue-bummed green-balled Fambezuxian male sexist hooter-honkers. And you” — she had seen Tally ready with a puzzled look and a question — “can shut up and learn about those later, from somebody else. I want out, and I want out now.”

  Maddy ignored her sister’s outburst. “But why were we brought here?” she asked thoughtfully. “And what happens next?”

  Darya clenched her teeth. So much for the rest of them sitting and listening to any description of Labyrinth. They had no interest at all in hearing what she had to say. “I have no idea why you were brought here. Or what will happen next.” She stood up and firmly closed her suit’s helmet. “But I’m not going to sit here and listen to you argue with each other. If you want out, then go. I told Kallik that I would return and reveal to her exactly what I found, and I am going to do just that. I have promises to keep.”

  It made a fine exit line. Darya gave Hans Rebka one last cold look, that said, I won’t deal with you now, you worm, but just you wait; then she left.

  She did not like what she found beyond the airlock. She was in the same chamber, but there had been major changes. The space had somehow increased in size. Its walls had become translucent, and she could see the faint outline of other rooms beyond. Worse than that, the way back, which had been open and easy, was blocked. At the entrance to the tunnel stood the familiar but unwelcome sight of another transportation vortex.

  It was still swelling and building. Darya waited. This time she knew what to expect. The pattern was developing in the same way as before: darkness, growing on itself and with a center of swirling, absolute black. Then a ghost image, flickering for the briefest moment across the dark bloated heart.

  It took longer this time, because the final size of the vortex was so big that it filled almost the whole expanded chamber. Darya retreated to the illusory shelter of the Misanthrope at the far end. She noted that in spite of Lissie’s ultimatum the ship had not changed its position. She thought she could see it shaking a little. The fighting among the sisters inside was something better imagined than experienced.

  The spectral image became stronger, flashing twice into near-visibility. It was a ship, and a big one, with a slightly peculiar profile. She saw why when it finally popped into full existence and she could examine it for more than a split-second at a time. The new vessel had begun life as a sleek ship with an advanced Fourth Alliance design, but somehow a large part of the aft section had been sheared away. Before she could evaluate the extent of that damage, a hatch on the side was swinging inward. Three human figures jetted out, followed a few moments later by a gigantic fourth shape.

  A familiar gigantic shape. A Cecropian. Darya’s eyes were ready to pop out through her visor. She was beyond surprise when the leading human came zipping over to her.

  “What, may I ask, are you doing here?” The nasal, arrogant voice had not changed a bit. “Access to this artifact is supposed to be tightly controlled.”

  “She must have been dumped here, like we were,” another voice said, just as familiar. “Hey, Professor, how’s it goin’?”

  Darya shook her head hopelessly and gestured to the Misanthrope, still motionless beside her. “Let’s go in there and talk. It can’t get any messier inside, and I don’t want to be out here when the next shipment arrives.”

  Darya was wrong. It got much messier within the Misanthrope before five minutes had passed, because in less than that interval the next shipment did arrive. Kallik, finding the road between the chambers open, appeared with two of the Tenthredans.

  The Treel’s exploration ship had been designed for a crew of three, with emergency space for a couple of extra passengers. Packed inside it at the moment were the three Treel sisters, Hans Rebka, E.C. Tally, J’merlia, Louis Nenda, Glenna Omar, Quintus Bloom, Atvar H’sial, Kallik, and the two still-anonymous Tenthredans. Plus, of course, Darya herself.

  It would have made more sense to reconvene on the Gravitas, but the Treel sisters refused to board any vessel that lacked superluminal capability. As Katerina pointed out, anyone who left Labyrinth on a subluminal ship faced a long crawl home. The presence on the Gravitas of a live, adult Zardalu was of less consequence. Maddy and her sisters just didn’t believe Louis Nenda, and his comment that passage through a Builder vortex had changed the Zardalu’s attitude toward space travel and subdued it considerably was taken as embroidery on an implausible fabrication.

  Not everyone was talking at once. It merely felt that way. The only happy being of any species seemed to be Quintus Bloom. He was grinning, and he had started to lecture everyone who would listen as soon as his suit was open.

  “Exactly as I expected.” The prominent nose was raised high in satisfaction. “Events are occurring precisely as my theory predicted.”

  That wasn’t the way Darya remembered things. She looked at Bloom, and then carefully scanned everyone else crowded into the cabin. The expressions on the faces of the nonhumans and of E.C. Tally were largely unreadable, but the rest were a study in contrasts. Maddy and Katerina Treel were edgy and impatient, eager to leave Labyrinth as soon as possible. It was only a matter of
time before they threw everyone off their ship and fled. Maybe they were the smart ones. Their blond sister, Lissie, had been caught instantly by the Bloom charisma. Her deep suspicion of men had been charmed away, and she was standing right in front of him and hanging open-mouthed on to his every word.

  Next to Lissie and Bloom, Hans Rebka stood in his usual crisis mode, monitoring everything and everyone, self-contained and serious. He noticed Darya staring at him and his expression turned to one of acute discomfort.

  He ignored everybody else and came across to stand by her side. “Darya, we have to talk.”

  “Indeed?” She stared at him coldly. “I don’t know that I have anything to say to you. And it’s the worst possible time for talking.”

  “It may be the worst time, but it could be the only chance we’ll ever have. No matter what happens to us, I want to set something straight.”

  “I suppose you’re going to tell me that Glenna Omar was in your bedroom by accident. That nothing happened between the two of you.”

  “No. That wouldn’t be true. I know I hurt you. But Glenna really doesn’t mean anything to me, and she never did. I never meant anything to her, either. I was just another man to add to her collection, another trophy for her bedroom wall.”

  “Why should I believe that?”

  “Darya, just look at her. Look at Louis Nenda. Can’t you see it? What do you think they’ve been doing?”

  Nenda stood four or five steps away. He seemed exhausted, his swarthy face paler than usual and his eyes marked beneath by dark bruised smudges. Glenna Omar was standing very close to him, her shoulder rubbing against his. Glenna — Darya decided that the world must really be coming to an end — was wearing no makeup, and her long hair was pulled back and tied casually away from her face. She too seemed tired. But her whole body spoke of languid contentment.