Grey’s tentacles rippled at their approach, and a silky voice emanated from their midst. “Quinn! You appear unharmed.”
“I’m fine, thank you,” Quinn replied. “How’s my son?”
Grey paused a moment, presumably to link with his Unity. “He had lost a great deal of blood. The Medyr repaired much of the tissue damage and transfused him with volume expanders. We are continuing treatment. His life indicators are firm. We expect a full recovery.”
Grey was an engineering adept, yet his reply sounded like a medical report. The Osei’s shared consciousness had distinct advantages.
“Can I see him?”
“He was transferred to an Osei vessel. Your Nemazi insisted on accompanying him. Our medical facilities are the finest in the fleet.”
The female Shanata leaned in. Her features were concealed behind her head covering, but her tone was keen-edged as a blade. “Retrieving you has caused us to remain here too long. Thirteen AI vessels have entered the Pann system and are pursuing us.”
Quinn didn’t feel like playing the blame game. “I assume you’re headed for the nearest waypoint?”
She nodded.
“Will you get there in time?”
“Doubtful. That is why we must sacrifice one of our ships.”
“What do you mean, ‘sacrifice’?” Quinn asked.
“One of our Shanata vessels has turned to engage the enemy. It should slow them down sufficiently for the remainder of the fleet to reach the portal.”
Quinn stared at unknown symbols that scudded across the round tabletop’s surface. “One against thirteen—its crew won’t stand a chance.”
“They will destroy as many AI ships as they can.”
Quinn shook his head. “There must be another way.”
Vil-gar appeared in a flourish of light. Quinn shielded his eyes.
“There is. But you must not use it,” Vil-gar said.
“Who is this?” the female Shanata demanded.
“He’s… just someone I picked up on my travels,” Quinn said, distracted. He turned to Vil-gar. “Are you saying there’s a way the fleet can escape this system without sacrificing the Shanata ship?”
“Indeed.”
“What is it?”
“I cannot say.”
Quinn’s hackles rose. “Tell me now!”
“You do not understand,” Vil-gar said. “The AI is highly adaptive. If it learns the secret too soon, it will use it against you, and you will be destroyed.”
“If you will not help us, then why did you appear?” the Badhati asked.
“But I have helped,” Vil-gar protested. “When I detected their presence, I left Quinn and transported aboard one of the AI ships. Watch and you will see!”
The Badhati waved an arm, and a three-dimensional schematic appeared over the tabletop. Fourteen icons appeared—thirteen red and one blue. Quinn held his breath as the red icons closed in. A stream of symbols flowed from one red, and another red near it winked out. Then a second and a third.
“What’s happening?” the Shanata female demanded.
Vil-gar raised his head. “I reprogrammed the AI ship’s targeting controls. It will fire on the others until—”
Two further reds erupted in streams of symbols, and the first red vanished. The Shanata female glanced at Vil-gar. “The ship you sabotaged has been destroyed.”
The nine remaining reds bore down on the blue. The blue icon altered course, symbols streaming in its wake. A nearby red disappeared. Eight left. Blue turned again and headed straight for the centre of the swarm. Its symbols flared, and another red icon died. Seven. Almost half the AI ships destroyed. Was it possible? Could a lone Shanata vessel defeat thirteen AI ships?
The lone blue icon glowed as the reds surrounded it like an angry swarm. Symbols erupted from three reds and the blue. One of the reds vanished. Then the blue faded and was gone. Quinn stared at the display, willing the blue icon to reappear.
A new set of symbols appeared over the schematic. The Badhati stared at the readout. “It worked. The AI-controlled ships have lost too much time. They cannot catch us now. It is a great victory.”
Grey’s tentacles sagged. The Shanata female turned and walked away. Quinn stared after her.
“Coming up on the portal,” the Badhati announced. His arm wiped away the schematic as if it were a stain of blood. In its place was a three-dimensional representation of a shining ring surrounded by stars.
Vil-gar vanished along with his sphere. The ring grew and enveloped them in a swathe of darkness.
~
Six brilliant flashes blossomed as the remaining vessels of the fleet reemerged into their home universe. The shining torus behind them wavered and then vanished. The Shanata female returned to the table and stared at the empty display.
“Coming about,” the Badhati said.
“What’s going on?” Quinn asked.
“We have to collapse the portal at this end,” the Badhati replied.
To prevent the surviving AI-controlled ships from following. Quinn needed access to one of the waypoints to reach the Elinare, but there was no time now. He pressed his lips together. Have to let this one go.
A spinning star emerged from the bottom of the image and hurtled outwards. Quinn recognised it as a chuthah—a device that drew on energy from the neighbour universe to create an explosive force. Quinn shielded his eyes as it detonated.
The Badhati gazed at a fresh stream of symbols. “I detect no sign of AI activity in this system. We are safe for now.”
“We should have let them come through and obliterated them as soon as they emerged,” the Shanata female said.
“Our task is to free their crews if possible, not destroy them,” the Badhati countered.
Quinn spoke into the brooding silence. “Where are we?”
“Uforiban, near the borders of Consensus space,” the Badhati replied. “If we were to continue on this trajectory, we would reach Earth.”
“You’re wasting your time,” the Shanata female cut in. “He’s not going to serve as our intermediary with humans. The Osei told us as much.”
Quinn shook his head. “I’m not refusing to help. It just won’t work, that’s all.”
“Your people are technologically backward,” the Badhati said. “They would gain much from an alliance with us.”
“I’m sure that’s true. But they don’t yet know of the existence of other races, and they’re highly suspicious. If time wasn’t a factor, I’d say ‘go for it’, but convincing them to join us will take too long. By then the AI will have steamrolled the Consensus and Earth as well.”
She turned away. “If all humans are this cowardly, then we’re better off without them.”
The tall Badhati followed her with his eyes. “Rahada—”
She whirled on him. “We risked our lives—the entire fleet—to rescue this human. Now, he won’t lift a finger to help us!”
The Badhati ignored her and addressed Quinn in an even tone. “You have an alternate suggestion?”
Quinn nodded. “I want to contact the Elinare.”
“Someone has been plying you with false tales,” the Shanata female spat. “The Elinare disappeared centuries ago. No one has seen or heard from them since.”
“I know where they are.”
“Where?”
“The neighbour universe.”
“You’re lying! Nothing can live there.”
“We owe Quinn our lives,” Grey said. “The Unity believes we should hear him out.”
The Badhati nodded slowly. “I agree. But Rahada is correct. Space in the neighbour universe is warped. There are no stars, no planets. How could any race survive?”
“I can’t answer that,” Quinn said. “All I know is a swarm of tiny lights invaded my ship, then one of them entered me, and I blacked out. When I awoke, I became aware of an entity sharing my consciousness. He called himself Aurek.
“He told me the Elinare had taken refuge in the null universe
. While there, he claimed they had become preoccupied with a problem far more pressing than Consensus politics.”
“What problem?” the Badhati asked.
“He never said,” Quinn replied. “But he implied it involved the long-term future of both universes.”
“Why would a member of the Founder Races merge with a lowly human?” From Rahada’s tone, Quinn pictured her scowling beneath her facemask.
“They detected a massive local disturbance in our universe—the destruction of the Shana system. They sent Aurek as a scout to investigate. Their plan was for him to reside within my mind and simply observe without making himself known. Unfortunately, I ended up in the brig of one of the Shanata vessels while the AI was systematically absorbing your vessels and their crews. He had no alternative but to make his presence known.”
“Where is this Elinare now?” the Badhati asked.
“He gave his life to purge the fleet.”
Silence descended as the representatives of the three races absorbed the impact of his statement.
At length, the Badhati said, “That’s quite a story.”
“Scans detect no signs of falsehood in the human’s responses,” Grey added.
“We know little of his race,” Rahada said. “He could be adept at masking his biological indicators. Or he could simply be delusional.”
The Badhati’s almond eyes were dark but kindly. “You have seen the projections, Rahada. The fleet cannot survive indefinitely against the AI. Sooner or later, our supplies will run out, or we will fall into one of their traps. This human already saved us once. If he has a plan, we should at least listen to it.”
Rahada looked away. The Badhati turned to Quinn. “You say the Elinare have taken up residence in the neighbour universe. How do you intend to find them again?”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Quinn replied. “I believe our best bet is to reproduce as closely as possible the conditions of my first encounter. The Agantzane launched some sort of concussive wave that impacted our ship just as we entered the Shana portal. We were thrown off course and lost contact with the receiving beacon.”
“The Shana portal has not yet been repaired,” the Badhati said.
“Right. So we’re going to have to use a different one.”
“Space in the neighbour universe is warped, Quinn. No race has ever successfully navigated it, and no ship that lost its way there has ever returned… apart from yours, of course.”
Is he humouring me? Quinn caught no hint of duplicity in his voice, but then this creature’s thought processes were far different to his. “We took a page out of the lifeboat service.” He glanced at the others. The Badhati’s expression was flat, Rahada’s was hidden behind her facemask, and Grey had no face. He shook his head. “We dropped a stationary beacon as a point of reference, and then struck out roughly in the direction we had come using our ship and its life pods to extend a lifeline. Eventually we were able to lock on to the receiving portal.”
“Ingenious,” Rahada mused. She looked as if she had been about to add, “for a human,” but had restrained herself at the last instant.
Quinn forged on. “The point is, we have enough ships to use a similar technique. We enter a portal and move out to a point around twelve hochari from the beacon, which I was told was the maximum range for any transmission. One ship will remain on station while the rest move farther out. Eventually we’ll have a line of ships extending into the void.”
“You realise that if one ship in the chain were to go off signal, those ahead of it would be lost,” Rahada said.
Quinn nodded. “That’s why I plan to be on the furthest ship in the chain. When it reaches its station, I’ll take a life pod out on my own. Mine will be the greatest risk.”
“The neighbour universe is a big place, Quinn,” the Badhati said. “Your chances of running into the Elinare again would be infinitesimally small.”
“They found me the last time,” Quinn countered. “Look, I know it sounds farfetched, but I have a gut feeling they will seek me out, if only because they’ll want to know what happened to Aurek. The Elinare have the power to defeat the AI and stop the Damise dead in their tracks. We have to try to reach them.”
“I agree,” the Badhati said. “It is worth the risk.”
“The Unity also agrees,” Grey piped.
All eyes turned towards Rahada. She stared at Quinn from behind the slits of her facemask, eyes flashing in the starlight. “You are very brave, human, or very stupid. I fear we shall all be dead before we discover which.”
She turned on her heel and exited the command area, its double doors whooshing behind her. Quinn exhaled slowly.
The Badhati waved a slender arm over the table, and a new schematic appeared. Six planets floated around a shining star, unknown symbols streaming from each of them. He pointed. “There are two further waypoints in this system, here and here. The nearest is close to Uforiban’s largest moon.”
“Uforiban was colonised by Aribites,” Grey said. “Its sulphurous atmosphere is similar to their home planet, but it has few natural resources, and they have only scattered settlements. Their portal is little used.”
“Sounds ideal,” Quinn said.
“The Unity informs me that your son and the Nemazi have returned to this ship,” Grey said. “Would you care to see them?”
“Yes, absolutely,” Quinn replied.
“They are in the rear cargo section.”
“I will conduct you, if I may,” the Badhati said.
Quinn nodded thanks and fell into step beside the willowy creature as they exited the starlit room.
~
Quinn sat opposite the Badhati, who he had learned was called Tzurel, while a clear-sided carriage whisked them towards the Shanata vessel’s aft section. Lighted rings flowed around and past them. The effect was as hypnotic as railway sleepers. Just as Quinn felt himself nodding off, Tzurel’s bass voice jerked him to full consciousness.
“…you great honour.”
“Wha—”
Tzurel viewed him with a slight smile that might have been whimsy. “You have not slept in some while?”
“Uh… no. No, I haven’t.”
“I was just saying that by trusting you, the three races do you great honour.”
Quinn ran a hand through his thinning, fair hair. “I didn’t get that impression from Rahada.”
“Major decisions of the fleet are only made with the support of all three races. Without her support, we would not have been able to proceed.”
Quinn huffed. “She opposed me at every turn.”
Tzurel leaned back and clasped his fingers in front of him. “I have not known humans long, but they seem quick to judge. What you saw was not belligerence. It was grief.”
“Grief?”
“Her sister was on the vessel that we sacrificed.”
Quinn’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“My point, exactly.”
Quinn’s eyes grew unfocussed. “Shanata Tamah—Destroyer of the Shanata. That was what the Nemazi called me after I broke the blockade of their world. I imagine quite a few Shanata would like nothing better than to stick a blade between my ribs.”
“Some might,” Tzurel said. “Others would revere you as rescuer of one of their infants from the rubble of the Shana system, or saviour of the fleet from the AI. Some would label us villains, others would call us heroes. Perhaps we are both. Or neither.”
Quinn’s sleep-starved mind hurried to catch up. “We?”
“You forget we were servants of the Agantzane. Our responsibility was to enact the perfect justice of one plus one equals two.”
“Are you saying you never believed in what you were doing?” Quinn asked.
“Does the Gol-nar being marched to his death for the supposed crimes of his race spare a thought for the beliefs of his executioner? It is not our beliefs that define us, Quinn. It is the beliefs of others. They judge our actions through the lens of their
own fears, prejudices, and desires. Eventually, we come to realise that all we can do is choose our path and accept whatever comes.”
Quinn dry-washed his face. “I feel as if I never got to choose. From the moment I awoke in the white room as a ‘guest’ of the Agantzane, they propelled me down a path. They manipulated my every step, ensuring that I would descend to Pann’s ground level and meet my death.”
“And yet you did not die.”
“No. But I can’t escape the feeling that the Agantzane aren’t done with me yet.”
“What is it that you want, Quinn?”
Quinn laughed without mirth. “Truly? I want to go home. I want to go home with my son. I want to go hiking in the hills behind Eire Colony and forget I ever heard of the Agantzane or the Consensus or your crazy so-called justice!”
“Then perhaps that is what you should do.”
Quinn blinked. “What?”
In one swift movement, Tzurel opened his mouth wide and hissed, enveloping Quinn in a fine mist. Quinn’s view fogged, and he slipped into unconsciousness.
Part Four: The Damise
Quinn awoke to cold and dark, as if damp, worm-ridden earth were filling his mouth and nostrils and covering his eyes while he slipped down and down, away from all light and life.
Where… am… I?
“Quinn?”
The voice was soothingly familiar, like the warmth of sunlight. He heard the flutter of wings beside him.
A handheld beacon flicked on. Artificial light illuminated one side of an elfin face—a face he knew. Vyasa. Caution blunted Quinn’s sense of relief. You’re supposed to be dead. Conor’s second reanimate had buried a blade in her side, and the AI had swallowed her. Yet now she appeared whole.
Gone was her yellow robe. Instead, a grimy white smock accentuated her bony frame. She was barefoot, and a bruise marred her forehead.
She reached out with her free hand, and he pulled away. Had she forgotten the death touch the Agantzane had cursed him with? Her fingertips touched his forehead, but she did not collapse. Instead, she smiled.
The Arc of the Universe Page 12