Rayne paused to rub her legs as the endless plodding took its toll. For several hours she had walked in darkness, trudging along a sticky floor that now curved downwards. When Scrysalza had refused to take her to the Envoy, she had decided to go there under her own steam. Since she knew the Envoy dwelt somewhere close to the ship’s core, she had taken one of the tunnels out of the breathing chamber and followed it.
Common sense, coupled with the Ship’s alarm at her move, told her the oxygen chamber was close to the Ship’s skin, and the tunnels would take her to its core. Her fear seemed to have taken a back seat to curiosity and a determination to help this massive creature. Its gentle nature appealed to her and its previous cry for help still echoed in her mind, along with the strong sense that it would suffer again, soon, unless she killed the Envoy. The problem of how she would kill the Envoy still bothered her.
The slope steepened and became slipperier, and she skidded several times, arms wind milling to keep her balance. When she slipped and landed on her bottom, she stayed there and slid along, using her hands, at first to push herself, then to slow her slide. Her alarm grew as she gathered speed and even digging in her fingers did not help to slow her much. The Ship told her to turn back before it was too late, flashing the seething chamber onto her inner eye. She gritted her teeth and strived to navigate the slope at a reasonable speed.
The warm wind blew from behind, pushing against her fragile hold until Rayne lost her grip and slid wailing down the tunnel, arms and legs outstretched in a futile bid to slow her descent. She soon became coated in the walls’ slime, which gummed her eyes closed and filled her mouth. The slime was tasteless, but made her stomach heave because it was from an alien’s insides.
Several minutes later, Rayne cannoned into a soft membrane and bounced off. She sat for a while, gathered her wits and got her bearings as she waited for her heart to stop trying to hammer its way out of her chest, wiping goo off her face. For her, several minutes passed in this timeless dimension before she realised that she had found the rosy glow. Her triumph was mingled with trepidation as she stood up on a level, slimy floor and approached the source. It came from a wall several metres away, and as she got closer her curiosity grew.
A section of the wall was translucent, and a strange procession of glowing red things moved within it. When there was no reaction to her presence, she crept closer still, aware of the Ship’s sentience crouched like a puzzled beast in the corner of her mind. When she was close enough to touch the wall, the things within it could be seen quite clearly. There was a river of them, flowing along a tunnel like the one she was in, only they filled it to capacity, and they swam. Peering into the tunnel, she made out individual, glowing bodies, each resembling a tadpole with a lashing tail. Startled, she stepped back.
Scrysalza’s amusement filled her mind with bizarre laughter, which she would not have recognised without the underlying emotion. She waited for the Ship’s hilarity to fade before asking if the creatures in the tunnel were parasites. The amazing fact that the Ship could feel amusement passed her by. Scrysalza’s answer was immediate and definite; the creatures were not parasites at all. They were, it explained, the creatures that carried light, warmth and energy from its outer peripheries to its core. Rayne was fascinated, and she gazed into the tunnel, entranced.
Essentially, the glowing red tadpoles were the ship’s blood, swimming through its arteries and veins to deliver their burdens to its furthest reaches. Her fascination at the alien anatomy prompted the Ship to explain in detail, using pictures to describe the creatures’ simple life cycle. They were not intelligent, but lived on a portion of the goodness they carried in a symbiotic relationship. The blood beasts congregated in vast pools to breed and rest, their dead broken down in the Ship’s massive cesspit to provide a bacterial broth for the generation of other life-giving components the Ship required. From the outside world it fed on light, warmth and various gasses as well as cosmic dust, scooping its needs from space with its vast crystal wings like whales sieved plankton from the sea. Without the dust, a ship would cease to grow, but only if denied light and heat for several decades would it eventually die.
Rayne watched the swimming tadpoles and wondered about the other facets of the Ship’s system that she had not yet encountered. If it was anything like a human body, there should be creatures with more dangerous functions living within it. The Ship assured her there were many other creatures, some of which patrolled its tunnels hunting dangerous intruders, but it controlled them. She asked why it had not used these guardians to oust the parasites, but it replied that it had tried, without success. Any attack on the parasites caused the Envoy to punish the Ship, forcing it to leave them alone. That made Rayne wonder how she was supposed to kill the Envoy when her attack would undoubtedly trigger an identical response, and she did not doubt that Scrysalza could control her as easily as it could its guardians.
Turning away from the transparent wall, she considered her options again. The heat was now oppressive, and she loosened her collar, wiping sweat from her brow. The slime on her skin had dried to a brittle coating that rubbed off easily. To reach the core, she had to keep going down, and she wondered how much hotter and stuffier it was going to get. Still, she had little choice, she reflected with a sigh; she had to find the Envoy. Ignoring the Ship’s urging to climb back up the tunnel, she searched for another tunnel going down.
The dull red glow from the translucent areas on the walls provided a little light, but it still took a while to find another tunnel. When she did, it was quite by accident, and rather fortunate, for she doubted she would have had the courage to take such a speedy route had she had a choice in the matter. She inadvertently stepped onto a thin membrane that opened under her weight, sending her plummeting downwards with a wail of shock and fear.
Several minutes of sliding down a steep, slimy tunnel, whizzing around curves at a break-neck speed and caroming off the walls with undignified yelps ended when she plunged into a pool of warm liquid seething with glowing red tadpoles. She splashed and yelled in alarm as the beasts wriggled over and around her in a packed mass, each the size of her head. The sensation of their firm, slimy bodies pushing against her filled her with an irrational dread, and she struggled to swim to the nearest bank while the Ship communicated assurance and amusement.
Reaching a smooth, fleshy bank, she hauled herself out and sat dripping, staring into the seething cauldron of glowing red beasts. They seemed to find her presence alarming too, and were rapidly disappearing down a submerged tunnel. She realised that once they were all gone she would be left in the dark. The chamber seemed like the one that dominated Scrysalza’s thoughts, but there was no sign of anything that resembled an Envoy. Not that she knew what an Envoy looked like, she mused, but, apart from the departing blood beasts, the chamber was empty. The Ship communicated its satisfaction at this, and she slumped, almost resenting its determination to keep her away from the Envoy.
As the light faded, she wondered if Shadowen was safe. The Ship replied that Rayne’s metallic shell was safely suspended within its shields, but it had blocked his attempts to communicate, fearful that he would upset her. In fact, he was becoming something of a nuisance, stretching the Ship’s resources and consuming power it considered ill spent. If it withdrew its shields, the dead entity would cease to exist.
The idea seemed to appeal to the Ship, which alarmed Rayne. Until now, it had not pondered Shadowen’s presence, but since she had reminded it, Scrysalza was seriously considering this option. Rayne protested that she needed her metallic shell, and did not want him harmed. Her disquiet brought a rush of assurance from the Ship, but she was not so easily placated. If Shadowen was a burden, could the Ship send him back, she wondered. It could, it assured her, if that was what she wanted. It was, she replied, relaxing. At least he would be safe, for who knew what would happen when the Envoy woke up?
Tarke glared at the scrolling holograms. The messages from his scientists all said the same thi
ng. None of them could think of a way to get into the void dimension, as everyone was calling it. They put forward a plethora of theories and explanations for this, ranging from the impossibility of even finding the dimension in question, to those that agreed with Scimarin’s theory.
Any matter entering the void dimension would be instantly consumed, and the energy shell necessary to form a reliable shield was too powerful to be sustained without a link to the Net, which would be impossible in the void dimension. The underlying excitement at finding this new dimension only soured his mood further. He thumped the arm of his chair.
“Idiots. All they can think up is excuses.”
“Their theories are logical and probably correct,” Scimarin told him. “I doubt anything but a crystal ship could enter that dimension at all, never mind safely. It is, essentially, the same as a black hole, and no one has dared to venture close enough to study one of those. I might even theorise that black holes are gateways into this void dimension.”
“This is all fascinating, and at another time I would be enthralled by it. But right now, I need to find a way to get in there.”
“I’m afraid, based on current data, it’s impossible.”
Tarke opened his mouth to reply when the empty area of space where the Crystal Ship had vanished vented a lance of pure white light that ripped through the fabric of space and time, momentarily blinding him, and sending Scimarin into a frenzy of analysis.
“Unknown light source, white spectrum, origin, tentatively the void dimension...”
The light faded, leaving Tarke with glowing afterimages on his retinas. He blinked and squinted as the ship continued its liturgy.
“Photon shockwave passing energy shell perimeter...”
The ship seemed to surge as the shockwave momentarily increased the gravitational pull of its dense underbelly.
“No damage sustained,” Scimarin said, “ionised plasma spreading from the site of the light wave. Sensors are picking up a ship at epicentre of the disturbance... small. It’s Shadowen.”
“Contact him. Find out if Rayne’s aboard.”
“That would blow our disguise.”
“Bugger our disguise!”
A tense moment passed, then Scimarin said, “Shadowen is unpiloted, and the Atlanteans are closing in on us.”
“Where’s the girl?”
“Aboard the Crystal Ship. Shadowen claims that her biorhythms are stable; she is in no apparent danger.”
“Is he damaged?”
“No. The Atlanteans are hailing you.”
The Shrike sat back, forcing himself to relax. “Shed the energy shell and open a space line with Tallyn. Let’s hear what he has to say.”
As the golden power leeched off the screens, the wafer-thin crystal slid from its slot, its initial hazy glow replaced by a crisp image of Tallyn’s grim visage. A slight smile curled his thin lips as he studied his enemy.
“So, Shrike. Nice of you to visit. A neat trick, pretending to be a distressed freighter. If we hadn’t been so distracted, you wouldn’t have got away with it.”
“I was counting on it.”
“I’m sure you were. But now that we all know who you are, don’t you think you’re a little too close for comfort?”
“Mine or yours?” Tarke asked. “Rest assured, you’re in no danger of catching me. And putting aside these petty issues, don’t you think it’s more important to find out what’s happened to your Golden Child?”
Tallyn’s smile became forced. “So, you’re taking your role of guardian seriously, are you? Even entering the lion’s den.”
“Guardian?” Tarke tilted his head. “What are you talking about?”
“She didn’t tell you? I am surprised. She told me that you’re her guardian, according to this guide of hers, the Endrix entity.”
“That’s news to me. I’m only interested in making sure my planets aren’t next on this creature’s menu.”
Tallyn’s grim smile faded. “What do you think you can do? If she succeeds, the Ship won’t return, and the prophecy says she will succeed.”
“It doesn’t give much in the way of details, though, does it? It says she can save Atlan, but it doesn’t say she must do it alone.”
“You think you can follow her? Have you spoken to her ship?”
Tarke shook his head. “I haven’t had much of a chance. And whether or not I share that information with you depends on your current attitude towards me.”
Tallyn glanced at someone off to the side, and turned back looking rather sour. “Perhaps we could work together for the duration of this crisis.”
“Considering that I have much more to offer than you do, and it’s your world that’s threatened, that doesn’t surprise me.”
“Just find out what’s happening to her.”
Tarke looked at the holographic readouts that scrolled up in the gloom. Scimarin had continued to receive data from Shadowen, but there was little of any use. Shadowen only knew that he had been sucked into another dimension, and his sensors had been crippled by a vast energy shield that had encompassed him and prevented him from moving. Having lost his link with the Net, he had concentrated his power to keep his systems running. He had been unable to communicate with Rayne, but was certain she was aboard the Crystal Ship.
After an indeterminate length of time, which he could not measure, due to the fact that his timepieces had all ceased to function in the other dimension, he had been ejected from the Crystal Ship’s energy shield and squirted back into this dimension with no clue as to how to return to the void dimension.
Tarke turned back to the Atlantean commander. “I’m afraid Shadowen only knows that he was abducted and returned. Rayne is alive aboard the Crystal Ship, but there’s no way of finding her.”
Tallyn glanced at someone off the screen again, and Tarke guessed it was his lieutenant, Marcon. “Well, you’re not as much help as I had hoped, Shrike.”
“We’re dealing with a new dimension, which no one knows anything about. My ship has detected traces of coded yellow light seeping from the void dimension. But apart from that, there’s no trace of the Crystal Ship, and no apparent way of reaching it. If your scientists can come up with one, I’d like to hear it.”
“Coded yellow light?” Tallyn glanced sideways once more. “We hadn’t noticed that... We’ve detected it now.” He faced the screen again. “It’s not much help, either, but I’ll have our scientists study it.”
“Mine already have. Entering the void dimension is impossible, according to them, for anything other than the Crystal Ship. At least you now know she’s still alive.”
Tallyn nodded. “There is that. But I fail to see what you think you can do here. Unless you can enter this void dimension, how can you help Rayne?”
“I don’t know, but I have a feeling the Ship isn’t going to stay there indefinitely, and I want to be here when it returns.”
“Why?”
“Because I think when that happens, she’s going to need help,” Tarke said. “If there was a way to go to her, I would, but since there isn’t, I have no choice but to wait here.”
“If I let you.”
“Tallyn, I’ve always thought you to be reasonably intelligent, for an Atlantean, so don’t prove me wrong now.”
The commander frowned. “One of these days, Shrike, you’ll pay for all your insults.”
“If you live long enough.”
Tallyn broke the connection, and the space line screen slid back into its slot.
A phalanx of silver ships surrounded the Shrike, all eager to attempt his capture. None would, however, while the fate of their planet might rest with him, should the Golden Child require his aid. As long as that uncertainty existed, and the Atlanteans believed their legends, he was safe.
Chapter Seven
The seething mass of blood beasts fascinated Rayne with their roiling turmoil in the clear fluid. Their return had brought light back to the chamber, but her exploration had revealed no other tunnels
leading down. Hunger troubled her, and the Ship was concerned. It had prodded her to offer a solution to her discomfort, and she had explained her need for food, but the Ship’s offer to let her eat a blood beast had revolted her. Apart from her dislike of the idea, there was no way of knowing if the blood beasts were suitable as food.
The Ship had explained the reason for the blood beasts’ seething. Apparently this was their way of absorbing oxygen from the air. Her predicament occupied part of its massive brain, and from time to time it would suggest a way to provide food for her, all of which were unsuitable, in her opinion. She rejected offers to eat its slime, its beasts and its flesh. Equally, the Ship rejected her perception that the chamber was a trap, and she would die here. Its assurances to the contrary made her challenge it to prove otherwise. As soon as she did, she sensed the Ship’s response, and stood up.
A cocoon of brilliant light engulfed her, blinding her as she yelled and threw up her hands. The light faded, and she staggered in a sudden lack of gravity. As the spots faded from her eyes, she gazed around at the bizarre breathing chamber she had quit hours ago with a mixture of surprise and dismay. She groaned, sat down on the damp moss and hung her head. There was simply no way to beat a creature that was her world and her protector, and she resigned herself to waiting for the Envoy to awake. Then surely the Ship would have to let her help it.
When would the Envoy awake? The Ship had said that no time passed in this dimension. Did that mean the Envoy would sleep indefinitely? Would she be stuck here until the Ship was forced to return to the real universe to gather more power, in a few decades time? Decades would pass in the second dimension, but no time would pass here, yet the Ship’s visit to this dimension was measured by its need for power to sustain itself. Surely that was a measure of time?
It was certainly a measure of something, and if not time, then what? Her hunger was a clock of sorts. If she required food and water, that must mean time was passing. She asked Scrysalza, receiving a puzzling answer about personal time and outside time, a concept she found confusing. How could she consume time while none passed around her? She could, Scrysalza assured her, for she had her own finite destiny, consuming energy and aging as she always had. The difference, it said, was in the way time passed outside. At this moment, none had passed in the second dimension at all.
Slave Empire - The Crystal Ship Page 10