The Omega Egg [A Fictionwise Round Robin Novel]

by Mike Resnick;Various Authors

  “This is the next shell of the universe,” Spence said. “We have to find a way to pass through it.”

  “Yeah, if you swallow the pop-psych that Carol spouted, which I am not necessarily buying,” the dwarf replied, with a cynical grimace.

  Spence looked around. “Maybe one of the beings here will have information we can use to defeat the Guardians.”

  “And maybe they're ordinary citizens of this sphere, minding their own business and enjoying a drink, which I wouldn't mind doing myself. What do you suppose the local analog of coffee looks like?”

  “Stop it, Ramon,” Patricia said. “It cost Carol something to push through the dimensional barriers to communicate with Spence. He may not be the brightest bulb on the tree, but he has a point. Having the egg move us through the shells of the universe suggests it generates a tropism for the solution to our problem. You said it yourself to Spence, Plibix. ‘Nothing is random, and nothing is an accident.’ The odds are good that there is something here we need, or need to know.”

  “But how do we find it?” Plibix asked. “My instruments pick up only energy signatures. Mostly mild ones, like those static interchanges between the cloud-beings. That might mean we're seeking information, or an event that will coincide with our presence here.”

  “If we could only communicate with them,” Spence said, “but we don't exactly fit in here.” His voice was all but swallowed up in the vastness of the chamber. This was no way to carry on a covert operation to save the universe, or at least the galaxy.

  “I can,” Plibix said. The little dragon glanced at the others. “If you could follow my instructions, the rest of you might be able to, too.”

  “I'll try anything,” Ramon said, defiantly. “These people make me feel small, and no one ever makes me feel small.” The little fairy that was Plibix's mother hissed, showing its tiny teeth, as if agreeing with him.

  Plibix concentrated. Spence knew that the dragon could change shape at will to disguise himself as a variety of life forms, but he had never witnessed the transformation. Plibix took a deep breath and held it. He took another one. His leathery face wrinkled as he concentrated. He took another breath, then another, not releasing the previous breaths. With each inhalation, he grew larger and larger. The others kicked away to give him room. By actual count, it took him a hundred and fifty-seven increasingly deep breaths before he was the size of the natives. His substance thinned out as theirs had. The dragon was now the ghost of a Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade float of Plibix. In a few moments, his features smoothed out and became lobular, until he closely resembled the cloudlike beings. Spence almost applauded the feat.

  “See?” Plibix boomed. Electrostatic charges shot out of the cavern of his mouth, along with the smell of week-old salami that enveloped all of them in one gust. “No problem. Now, you try!”

  “Now, how the hell are we supposed to do that?” Patricia asked, sourly. “If I hold my breath like that I'll just pass out.”

  “Never mind,” Spence said. If there was ever a call to use the limited energy of the egg-and-strip, this was it. He pointed his hand at Patricia. “Be a cloud-being!”

  Whoosh! Before she could open her mouth to protest, the slender woman expanded hugely. Before her face lost its human planes, she shot him a look of exasperation.

  Spence, pleased, turned to Ramon. “Be a cloud-being!”

  “Whoooo!” Ramon chortled, blowing up in his turn. Instead of pale gold, his substance was a handsome antique bronze, but he was the same size as Patricia. “This is terrific! I love it!” The armory which the dwarf concealed in his bagaloons and under his cloak appeared briefly as sharp protruberances, but they faded into the soft outlines as well. Spence turned his energy to the fairy, then to himself. The fairy, as bad-tempered as always, tried to bite him. Instead of pain, Spence felt only a crackle as their substance mixed momentarily.

  “That's better,” Spence said. “Now, let's spread out and mingle.”

  Now that they were the same size as their hosts, the SpaceOp agents were no longer feared and avoided. Instead, as each of them approached a small group, it would open up slightly to make room for them. Spence had done deep-cover work in his career, but this was the most incredible experience he had had yet. Gravity was less of a force than ever. His body relaxed as his muscles and nerves spread out, and he realized for the first time in his adult life he had a complete absence of pain. The relief he felt in what had been his one good hand and was now a shuttle-sized bulb of cloud told him he had been ignoring the onset of arthritis. The plastic plate at the back of his head was all but forgotten, though he was even more aware than before of the blob of golden energy inside his skull. For the first time in his life he was unhampered by physical constraints. He enjoyed it.

  The tiny measure of electricity generated by his neurons was sufficient to send him breezing gently toward the first group of cloud-beings.

  The natives bobbed around him, as though asking questions. His attenuated aural nerves, far more sensitive than before, picked up faint sounds from the cloud-creatures that had been inaudible to him before. They were mere semes, the smallest possible particles of meaning, but he couldn't combine them into words or concepts. He activated the translation chip, but got nothing out of it but static. It had never heard speech like theirs before, either. He offered polite comments, which passed from his huge mouth as sparks of light. The largest cloud-person dipped its mass, and emitted some sparks in return. Spence couldn't translate the reply, and hoped he had not said anything that could be constituted as obscene in this culture. Feeling awkward, as though he was trapped in a dream of showing up late for a math test for which he had not studied at a school where he had never been before, without books, a pencil or his clothes, he moved on to the next group. They, too, offered pleasantries that he couldn't translate. Spence hung on for a while, hoping that he would pick up a little of the mode of communication.

  Patricia was the only one of the group who was not at loose ends. With her talent for language, she passed from one group to another in this huge, star-filled chamber, if chamber it was, interacting far more actively than any of the others. Spence was more inclined to think of it as a postulatum instead of a real place, the place within the mind where ideas were formed. Here, many minds were meeting. He hoped one of them would have information that would allow them to break out of this shell and go on to the next one. Bob was waiting for them.

  Spence began to feel hopeless, as he moved on to yet another cluster of party guests. This was the third ‘shell’ through which the small group had passed, in their efforts to find the avatar known as Bob. Spence had taken to heart Carol's admonition to him to break out of his everyday mindset. The first shell he had broken had to have been against believing only in the dimensions of time/space that his senses could perceive. His conversations with Para and Para had done a lot to convince him that there were others. Now, after jumping incredible distances in moments, using only the power of the egg-and-strip artifacts, he couldn't deny that preconception had been smashed for good.

  Next had come the perception of space and time as real. This next ... who knew what shell came next? All he knew was that he must break through them all, like a chick hatching out of egg after infinite egg, to save the galaxy from a power that was great enough to destroy it as easily as it could create others.

  True, he was furnished for the battle with godlike powers.

  The main trouble with having godlike powers, apart from not knowing how to use them, how long they will last, or indeed, how extensive ‘godlike’ really was, was the jealousy factor. Plibix, with all his awesome command of matter and space-time, kept sending the fish-eye Spencer's way. Frankly, the situation was Plibix's own fault. He had offered the jeweled egg to Spence many times in the past. Spence had always refused it, up until the last argument. He had instinctively feared opening the bauble—hah! Bauble. What a small word for what the egg had contained. Together with the moebius strip the glowing sphere i
nside it proved to be a gateway for the Guardians to pass through dimensions, a feat out of the reach of most beings inhabiting said dimensions.

  Yet, Plibix had already proved he could do that. Therefore, there had to be considerably more powers commanded by the egg-and-strip than dimensional travel. Did he, Spence, have time to learn them all before he needed to use them to try to defeat the all-powerful Guardian known only as Bob?

  Spence was inclined to think not. If only two little artifacts were involved in destroying Bob, wouldn't someone have tried it in the past? Galahad, the mucus-stained Guardian, had been pretty clear that Spence was out of luck if he thought two little techno toys would be sufficient to take out the biggest, baddest dude in reality. This wasn't the Death Star they were talking about here, with a handy hole in the screen through which any small fly could buzz. Such was his command of matter and energy that mere thoughts could generate whole malign dimensions. What could a dwarf, a translator, a dragon, a fairy and a semi-retired semi-cyborg do against something like that?

  He wished that he could confer fully with the others. They seemed to be lost in their own thoughts. The long trip through the cosmos had given them all too much time to think. Spence was troubled by the silence, since they had all been accustomed to spaceflight taking a long time in between star systems. Modern travelers had had to overcome the impatience of old, or they would have gone insane on their first journey from Earth to Alpha Centauri. In fact, the Interstellar Transportation Board still maintained counseling kiosks in every arrival port in every system, even though they were considered obsolete. The possibility still remained that insanity could flare up at any point, and it was the duty of the transit board and every major carrier to treat it when it threatened. Spence felt that he could use a little of that counselling at the moment. He was also concerned about how much power each transit cost the egg. The snot-nosed Guardian had warned him that the energy it contained was finite. He hoped that he and his band of defenders would be able to come up with the needed resources to accomplish their mission. He wished he had asked the Guardian more pointed questions. That was the trouble with having a one-time avatar: you always came up with the questions you needed to ask after he was gone.

  After floating aimlessly for what seemed like eons, Spence sensed Patricia returning to him in a great hurry.

  “Let them touch you,” she whispered, sparks flying, “but school your thoughts! Only think what you want them to hear!”

  Curious, Spence turned to join a group set a few dozen kilometers apart from the others. He drifted close to the most active of the beings. It regarded him mildly with eyes several meters in diameter, then put up a pseudopod to allow contact. Spence brushed it gently with the mass that represented his left hand, thinking hard about Guardians.

  Their limbs met, and melded. Spence was so surprised that he nearly flew backwards. No wonder the first cloud-being had refused to let him touch it. He got a feeling of slight discomfort mixed with pleasure at the contact. He knew that he generated surprise, as well as curiosity. He moved his free hand to touch his own chest, and the limb folded into the mass of his body. He could feel his own heart beating in his expanded palm.

  /Pleasure-fear-pain/ came from the cloud-being he was touching.

  His Space Intelligence Service training kicked in at once, and he dragged his brains back from the bucket on Goldmeadow where they'd drifted. He concentrated on stabilizing his emotions. The cloud-being evinced more interest.

  /Origin?/ it asked him, or rather felt at him. Spence sensed-saw an empty void, a request for information.

  As clearly as he could, Spence pictured the Sol system. He was proud of it. A youngish star, smallish, yellow, but home. He homed in on Earth, picturing that lovely blue-green marble as best he could.

  /Star/ the cloud thought at him. He got an impression of majesty, decay and regret. An old system. Without context he had no way of judging where it was. Perhaps if he got a good look at the satellite of origin.

  /Planet?/ Spence sent back.

  /Star/ the cloud insisted. Spence gawked, and lightning shot out of his mouth. They came from inside the star? Where were they now?

  /Star/ said the cloud.

  Spence looked around him, fascinated. They couldn't be in the core of a star in his reality, but this place was several dimensions removed from that plane. He wished he had time to investigate the concept further, but there wasn't time.

  /Name?/ the cloud asked him, showing him an image of himself, wreathed by deep curiosity.

  /Spence. Yours?/

  A molecular diagram introduced itself into the place where thoughts formed in Spence's own mind. /Sodium Hydrochloride/

  /Er, nice to meet you/ Spence sent a sensation of cordial acceptance.

  /Likewise./

  Well, they'd gotten the initial pleasantries out of the way.

  /Guardian?/ Spence thought, as firmly as he could.

  /Mucous/ A picture formed in his mind of an explosion of nebulous particles, some of which adhered to the ‘camera lens’ in his thoughts. Spence smiled. They had met Guardians here.

  /Here now?/ He tried to picture the whole room, with a traveling void in which a guardian like Galahad could fit.

  /Void/ No.

  /How do they arrive?/

  That evinced a much more complicated reply than before. Spence felt his consciousness crushed into a singularity and shoved toward the northwest quadrant of the ceiling. Or, perhaps, he noted, surveying the object to which Sodium Hydrochloride was pointing, moving toward that quarter would naturally crush one into a singularity. What he had taken for stars upon entering the room were indeed stars, not decorations, and the black spot in the distance was a small black hole, probably light-years from his present position, if one was judging by fourth-dimensional thinking. The Guardians used that black hole as their gateway to transit to this place. Spence had no intention of using that portal. The egg at the back of his skull agreed. There was one more thing he had to ask of his new acquaintance.

  /Bob?/ he inquired.

  The cloud beast jerked. Fear, surprise and revulsion came through their joined limbs, along with a blast of lightning that crackled through Spence like St. Elmo's fire, searing his nerves with white-hot agony. Through the pain Spence tried to glean Sodium's meaning. The cloud being had certainly heard of Bob, but had never seen him. All he did know was that he didn't want to have anything to do with Bob, and he sincerely advised his new friend not to, either.

  /Sorry to hurt you/ Sodium added, since Spence was radiating pain broadly enough to reach the others in their little circle.

  /No problem/ Spence groaned. /I asked for it./

  Spence hastily disengaged and signed to his companions to meet him in an empty quarter of the sun's heart.

  “Interesting people,” Patricia said, after he had brought them up to date on his discoveries. “When are you going to tell us that you think we should go through that black hole to find Bob?”

  Spence was taken aback. “I had no intention of going through it,” he protested.

  “I think we have to,” Ramon said. He pointed. “Did you see that guy?”

  “What guy?”

  “That one. The one with the blue bellflower.”

  “You're kidding.”

  “No. Look.”

  The bronze pseudopod pointed past the inflated mass of Spence's nose. He followed it to see a very pale, shaggy-looking cloud-beast sailing lazily upward in the direction of the dark spot on the ceiling. Spence focused on the tiny, bright spark at the creature's heart. He activated the telescopic lens of his artificial eye, and zoomed in until he could see it clearly. It was a fresh bellflower, looking like it had just been picked on McDougal II.

  “It's a trap,” Spence said.

  “Maybe. Maybe it's a sign. We're here looking for signs, aren't we? If that's not a sign, I'm a pedigreed Pooperanian.”

  “How are we going to follow him?” Plibix asked. “Even I keep away from black holes. T
hey'll tear us apart. And there's no guarantee we'll all come out of it at the same time. The egg might protect you, but the rest of us will be galactic toast.”

  “I have an idea,” Spence said. “Remember what the Pooperanian said? We're looking for ‘one who is many.'”

  “So what?” Patricia asked.

  “Haven't you noticed that your hands pass right through your own body? In our dimension, physics dictates that two bodies cannot share the same space. Here, the molecules are so far apart that they can! I think that we could meld together into one form, all five of us, so that when we go through the black hole, we'll all be together. We face that ‘one’ as an equal. The egg will protect us all.”

  The fairy hissed, but Plibix looked thoughtful. “It could work,” he said, stroking the substance that would have been his chin.

  “I've been thinking about it since I noticed the phenomenon,” Spence insisted. “I believe, though I won't be able to prove it until we meld together, but I believe that we will be able to tap into one another's experiences, talents and thoughts. I believe that by pooling our resources, we could become the champion that will be able to take on Bob and save the universe as we know it.”

  Patsy raised an eyebrow the size of a jellyfish. “High-falutin’ theory.”

  “He might be right,” Plibix said. “I noticed that while I was in contact with some of these cloud people I could understand galactic structure as they did. We might be able to make use of each other's memories and talents.”

  “I don't know if I care much for sacrificing my identity,” Patsy said. “I'm not wild about giving up biological integrity or privacy, even to save the galaxy's foundations.

  Spence snorted. “You've had worse crap handed to you by the Space Service. What about the body cavity searches? What about the immunizations? What about the speed-learning course to memorize the entire Space Code of Conduct?”