The Arc of the Universe

by Mark Whiteway

  The Arc of the Universe

  Book Three

  By Mark Whiteway

  Science Fiction

  Copyright © Mark Whiteway

  All Rights Reserved.

  Smashwords Edition

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  By the same author

  Lodestone Book One: The Sea of Storms

  Lodestone Book Two: The World of Ice and Stars

  Lodestone Book Three: The Crucible of Dawn

  Lodestone Book Four: Seeds Across the Sky

  Lodestone Book Five: The Conquered Shore

  Lodestone Book Six: Eternity’s Shadow

  The Arc of the Universe: Book One

  The Arc of the Universe: Book Two

  www.markwhiteway.weebly.com

  Table of Contents

  Part One: The Ascent

  Part Two: The Enclave

  Part Three: The Fleet

  Part Four: The Damise

  Part Five: The Trap

  Part Six: The Trial

  Part One: The Ascent

  Like a listing ship, holed and rudderless, Regan Quinn stumbled through the open door of the derelict Agantzane dwelling and onto the streets of the empty city. Behind him lay the body of a bioengineered creature with his son’s face, whose life he had just taken.

  Only Zothan’s intervening and then revealing the deception had stopped Quinn from ending his own life. The boy, Conor, whose behaviour had grown increasingly bizarre since their arrival on Pann, was a re-animate—a copy controlled by an elite group of alien creatures that governed the “Consensus”. This vast interstellar alliance followed the traditions, laws, and ethics of the long perished Agantzane race. Now, these self-styled Agantzane had allied themselves with an ancient and powerful race, the Damise. With their help, the modern Agantzane were determined to bring about the end of humanity. Quinn’s suicide would have been just the start.

  Cracked spires, columns, and porticos all spoke of a once-proud race humbled by a virus barely large enough to be seen under a microscope. The old Agantzane had ceased to exist some three thousand years ago, but their influence and their concept of perfect justice under the principle of one plus one equals two reached out across time.

  Applying this arcane law, the modern Agantzane had destroyed nearly twelve thousand human colonists and then inflicted Quinn with the touch of death, challenging him to exact retribution against various Consensus races. Quinn’s refusal to comply had led to the annihilation of one of the Founder Races, the Japhet, and to his exile on Nemazi before Ximun’s Mercy Faction rescued him.

  Yet Ximun had been a member of the Agantzane elite all along, and those he had betrayed were no doubt either dead or had been absorbed by the Damise’s all-pervasive Artificial Intelligence.

  Quinn trailed after Zothan, his mind still numb from the weight of revelations. Zothan’s axe-shaped head moved from side to side, his yellow eyes sweeping the way ahead.

  Nemazi were feared throughout the Consensus for their Shade abilities, which allowed them to phase through solid objects and transfer over long distances, but Pann’s lower levels were flooded with exotic matter that made transference highly dangerous.

  The situation was similar on Zothan’s home world, where Quinn had become stranded in a time front and experienced the night of the Transformation. Since then, he too had begun to exhibit Shade abilities, only now he was starting to experience physical and mental effects from their use, evidenced by the dark, shiny patches that had appeared on his arms and wrist. Would he undergo the same transformation?

  As they rounded a crumbling façade, Quinn caught sight of a giant, golem-like creature. One eye glowed orange. The other was dark. On its shoulder sat a lanky boy with a tumble of fair hair. The boy waved and then yelled at where the giant’s ear should have been. The giant lifted its great hand, the boy stepped onto it, and the giant deposited him on the ground.

  “Dad!” The boy ran and threw his arms around Quinn.

  Hardly daring to believe his eyes, Quinn pulled away, grasped the boy by the shoulders, and stared into his face. A lump formed in his throat. “I left you on that station. I’m so sorry!”

  Conor’s face lit up. “It’s okay, Dad. Zothan explained everything. It wasn’t your fault. Someone substituted another re-animate who made you believe he was me. Where is he?”

  Quinn held the boy’s cheeks and smiled. “Don’t worry. He’s gone for good.”

  “The Agantzane—did you meet them? What did they say?”

  Quinn’s expression grew sombre, like a cloud cutting off the sun’s light. “The Agantzane are gone. They lived in this place once, but they died long ago.”

  “Then who—”

  “A secret group made up of individuals from many Consensus races took up their name and ideals. They’re the ones who destroyed the colony fleet, re-animated you, and inflicted me with the death touch. Ximun is one of them.”

  “Ximun?”

  “Ximun,” the giant echoed. Quinn and Conor stared up at it. “My master is… Ximun.”

  ~

  Zothan crouched, as if preparing to flee. Quinn stepped in front of Conor, shielding the boy with his body, but the giant did not advance towards them. It merely swayed slightly, as if perplexed.

  “You spoke my new master’s name. That, and my presence here, were designed to unlock the memory of my reactivation.” The construct turned slowly. “I know this place.”

  “You’ve been here before?” Conor suggested.

  “No,” it boomed. “No, I have not.”

  Vyasa had called the giant creature a dolin—an ancient weapon created by the Agantzane. Quinn and Vyasa had pursued it as it blasted past the barrier that separated the Kimn enclave from Pann’s lower levels. Somehow, the construct had formed an attachment to Conor, yet it seemed confused. Maybe the Kimn assault had damaged its cognitive processes.

  “How do you remember this place if you’ve never been here?” Conor pressed.

  “It is a root command placed within all dolin. We can never come here.”

  Quinn’s suspicion grew. “And yet, here you are.”

  “My new master overwrote the old commands. My primary function is to preserve the subjects and eliminate any threat to them. My secondary function is to bring the subjects to this place.”

  “Subjects?”

  “Conor is one. The new master instructed me to wait at Javras Landing until he appeared. When I recognised him, I followed him to the world of the old masters. Facial recognition indicates a 99.7 percent probability that you are the other.”

  Quinn nodded. “The re-animate Conor made us divert to Javras Landing to deliver the artefact, but the Darshan courier never showed. There never was a Darshan courier, was there? You were the real reason we were sent there.”

  “I executed my instructions,” the dolin said. Its booming voice carried a note that was almost pride.

  “Except you goofed, as did Ximun. He never figured the first Conor would free himself and follow me all the way from the station, or that you would mistake him for the new re-animate.”

  “There is no mistake. You and he are the subjects.”

  It was like talking to a wall. Quinn had neither the time nor the patience to argue. He turned to Zothan. “We can’t stay here. We’ve got to get off this world.”

  “The journey to
the upper level will be arduous,” Zothan said. “Transference is unsafe on the lower levels, but do not be concerned. I will keep you from harm. The boy will be safe inside the construct.”

  “Can I have a word with you?”

  Zothan cocked his wedge-shaped head in a gesture Quinn could not interpret. “Very well.”

  Quinn started back the way they had come, and Zothan fell in step.

  “Dad?”

  “Just stay there,” Quinn called over his shoulder. “We won’t be long, I promise.”

  Quinn waited until they rounded the broken-down wall and were out of sight and earshot. Then he turned to face Zothan. “We have to leave it behind.”

  Zothan stared at him for a moment. “I assume you are referring to the construct.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Are you sure that is wise?”

  “It’s too dangerous. It’s a war machine created by the Agantzane. Ximun revived and programmed it to do God-knows-what. We can’t trust it.”

  “Its principal directive seems to be to preserve you and Conor.”

  “How do we know that?” Quinn challenged. “It didn’t even know the identity of its new master until memory of its revival was triggered. How do we know Ximun didn’t bury some secret instruction within its matrix?”

  “We do not.”

  “There.” Quinn spread his arms wide. “There, you see?”

  Zothan crooked a claw over his chin. “How do you propose to abandon it? It is sworn to protect you and Conor. I doubt it would obey an order to stay here, and we have no way of disabling it.”

  Quinn broke into a conspiratorial smile. “It can’t come after us if it can’t see us.”

  “I do not follow.”

  “I discovered a way of localising four-space. You form the conduit and create a… a kind of bubble.”

  “Removing you from normal existence.”

  “Yes. Yes, that’s it exactly! You can still move with the bubble, but you become invisible to anyone on the outside.”

  Zothan nodded. “Nemazi call it kakkoth-tamah. It is a technique commonly used by Nemazi assassins. However, the subuniverse is unstable. Maintaining it takes skill and training.”

  “You’re right. On the way here, it collapsed many times. I had to constantly re-form it, but I’m getting better. I’m pretty sure we could use it to escape this area before the dolin realised what was happening.”

  Zothan paused. “It is an ingenious plan. However, I am not sure Conor will agree to take part. He has bonded with the construct.”

  “It’s a machine.”

  “Nonetheless—”

  “Look, I’m his father, okay? He’ll do as I say. It’s in his best interest.”

  Zothan’s gaze fell. “I know little of humans other than what I learned when our minds were combined in the vortex. However…”

  “What is it?”

  “I am forced to wonder whether you always did what your father said was in your best interest.”

  Quinn sighed. “Okay, I see your point. But it doesn’t alter the fact that it’s too dangerous to have along.”

  “The dolin has protected Conor since his arrival on this world. It rescued him when the Kimn Sisterhood placed him under sentence of death. If it were not for the construct, your son would have been expired.”

  Quinn’s expression hardened. “That means nothing. It’s just a cog in another one of Ximun’s schemes. It can rot down here for all I care.”

  ~

  Quinn found Conor seated near the giant’s foot, drawing patterns in the dust.

  The boy glanced up and smiled. “Are we leaving now?”

  “Soon.” Quinn replied. “I wanted to show you something first. It’s how I made it all the way here. Would you like to see?”

  “Sure.”

  “All right, just do as I say.” Keeping his expression as neutral as possible, Quinn brought up the image of the tesseract and then folded it in his mind as he had done many times. Join opposite cubes to each other, then connect the top to the bottom without bending any of the sides—impossible without invoking a fourth spatial dimension—and there it was. A four-dimensional cube shone, rotating slowly. Dark smoke swirled as a tunnel began to form. Quinn felt pressure building, like a clenched fist between his eyes.

  Instead of moving towards the tunnel, he drew it around him. It formed a smoke-filled torus that thinned as it expanded and re-formed into a sphere, its bottom passing beneath the ground. Its sides were like lightly frosted glass.

  He located Conor and reached beyond the sphere, grabbing an arm and yanking him inside. The boy broke the sphere’s surface and gasped as he turned upside down. Quinn pulled him farther in and the boy righted, his feet coming to rest on the ground.

  “Sorry,” Quinn mumbled. “Should’ve warned you about that.”

  “W-What’s going on, Dad? What is this?”

  “As I understand it, we’re inside a four-dimensional space bubble.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Well, for one thing, we’re invisible to anyone in our reality.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yep. It’s what got me all the way here. And it’s what we’re going to use to get back to the upper level.”

  A round shape beyond the sphere moved towards them. As it struck the sphere, rings flowed from the point of impact like ripples in a pond. The surface broke, and Zothan stepped through the hole. He nodded to Quinn as the hole continued to grow, revealing the inside of a second bubble. The bubbles coalesced and became one.

  Quinn smiled at Conor. “All right, let’s go.”

  “What, now?” Conor asked.

  “We’ve no time to lose.”

  “What about the dolin?”

  “We don’t need it.”

  “But we can’t just leave it here!”

  Beyond the sphere’s frosted edge, the dolin rose and headed straight for them. The last place it saw us.

  Quinn fought to keep his tone light and airy. “We have no choice. We don’t know what instructions Ximun might have programmed into it. Besides, it’s just a machine.”

  “You’re wrong, Dad. It’s much more than that.”

  “The boy is correct,” Zothan broke in. “According to legend, the Agantzane constructed the dolin using an unknown form of biotechnology. It is said that the stone warriors virtually constituted life-forms.”

  Quinn glared at him. Whose side are you on?

  “It saved my life,” Conor protested.

  “Only because it was programmed to bring you here,” Quinn said. “Like a sat nav.”

  “No, it was more than that. It knows what I’m feeling. When it sensed I was in danger, it broke free of its restraints and rescued me.”

  Quinn placed a hand on Conor’s shoulder. “Look, I’m sorry. We can’t take it with us.”

  “No. Get me out of here!” As the boy pulled away, his feet left the floor, and he drifted upside down.

  Quinn grabbed his arm and pulled him back. Flailing, Conor turned right-side up and barrelled into Quinn. They tumbled in a heap as the giant loomed over them. Zothan stood motionless, his spindly arms and legs crooked.

  Quinn pushed Conor off and raised a hand. “It’s okay. We’re outside normal existence. It can’t see or hurt us. All we have to do is—”

  Pop. The bubble burst, admitting a rush of cold air.

  “I am sorry, Quinn,” Zothan said. “Sustaining kakkoth-tamah is extremely difficult when more than two entities exist within its boundary.”

  Quinn’s eyes narrowed. Had Zothan deliberately sabotaged the phenomenon? His understanding of Shade abilities far exceeded Quinn’s own. He could easily have disrupted it. Was he surreptitiously siding with the boy? Zothan’s steady gaze gave no hint of deception.

  Conor turned away with a pinched expression.

  The giant gazed down at them. “What happened? Where did you go?”

  The cold wind pummelled Quinn as if demanding an answer.

&nbs
p; “Nowhere,” he said.

  ~

  Protected by the four-space bubble, Quinn and Zothan trailed after the dolin as it ascended Pann’s levels. A bright orange beam from the giant’s only functioning eye lit the way ahead. It appeared to know the route as surely as Conor’s second re-animate. No doubt Ximun had programmed them with the same information.

  Quinn had had no opportunity to reason with Conor. The boy signalled the dolin, and the construct lifted him onto its shoulder. From there, Conor crawled into a hidden compartment. When the dolin set off, Quinn followed like an obedient lap dog.

  Zothan offered little in the way of conversation. Quinn wanted to press him about the bubble’s failure during their abortive escape attempt, but every way he could think of to broach it sounded like an accusation.

  The plain they were traversing was covered by a thin layer of dust interspersed by hard grey patches that Quinn took to be the level’s original surface, though with so many ups, downs, twists, and turns, he was not sure which level this was or even how long they had been travelling.

  The dolin halted midstep. Zothan stopped instantly.

  Quinn was a second slower and felt the onset of the reverse-gravity effect. He managed a step back before his feet left the floor. He hissed at Zothan. “What’s the matter? Why has it stopped?”

  “I do not know,” Zothan replied.

  Of course not. Why should you? Quinn’s instinct was still to leave the dolin behind, but with Conor aboard, that wasn’t an option. He cupped a hand to his mouth. “Hey!”

  “Sound cannot enter or leave the subuniverse,” Zothan pointed out.