“But you never returned.”
“No.”
“Why was that?”
“We made a discovery so momentous we could not ignore it.”
“What did you find?” he asked.
“This universe has… a hole in it.”
“You mean like a black hole?”
She shook her head. “What you call black holes are regions of collapsed matter. This is a completely different phenomenon that is destroying space-time. It’s already three billion light years across, and it’s growing.”
She halted, raised her head as if testing the wind, and then struck out in a new direction, flushing an angry pair of pheasants.
“Forgive me for saying this,” Quinn said, “but who cares? This is an empty universe. So what if it’s destroyed?”
“You’re forgetting that the two universes lie in close proximity. At various points, they interconnect. The forces devouring this universe will ultimately consume yours as well. It will mean the end of all existence.”
The path narrowed, shutting out most of the sunlight. Quinn felt his strength drain away. “How long do we have?”
“Scarcely more than two billion of your years.”
“T-Two billion?”
“That’s according to our current projections.”
He sighed. “You’re worried about an event that won’t happen for two billion years.”
“You don’t understand. If we’re to stand any chance of saving both universes, we have to begin work now.”
He felt faintly ridiculous, trudging through a forest in Ireland, discussing the end of everything. “So how do you go about plugging a hole three billion light years wide?”
“We look inward.”
Quinn was reminded of philosophy classes. “Sorry, you lost me.”
“The answer lies within ourselves. Aurek told you how civilisations advance to different levels. He described how the three Founder Races—the Japhet, the Damise, and the Elinare—gained mastery over space and time and thus achieved what we call architect level.”
“Uh-huh.”
“The Elinare now believe there is a level beyond architect.”
Quinn felt as if he were adrift on an endless ocean. “So advancing to this level will give you the means to plug the hole and save existence.”
“That is our hope.”
“And it’ll take you two billion years to get there?”
“Possibly more.”
Better not take longer than that. We’re on the clock, apparently. He reminded himself he was humanity’s de facto ambassador. “Is there anything we can do to help?”
“Yes, there is.”
It wasn’t the answer Quinn had expected. He braced himself.
“If our rivals find us, they will destroy us,” she went on. “But we cannot devote endless time and resources to defensive measures. We must pursue our core objective. So you must serve as our protectors.”
Human technology was in the Dark Ages compared to the Consensus, and the Consensus lay in tatters, but he needed the Elinare’s cooperation. “We’ll do everything we can. But if the Damise’s AI takes us over, we’ll be finished.”
“I will put your case to the Qan-ho-nah.”
“The who?”
“It means ‘Power of Thought.’ They are responsible for strategy and long-term planning among the Elinare. In human terms, they would represent our guiding council.”
“Sounds like a heady bunch,” Quinn observed.
“A what?”
He shook his head. “Never mind.”
“Even if my people agree to help, you will still be in danger.”
“The Shanata dissidents. Right.” He went to the pack at his waist and extracted the dull red jewel the Badhati had given him. “Have you any idea what this is?”
She turned and opened a slender hand. “May I?”
Reluctantly, he dropped the jewel into her palm. She turned it over, cocking her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t recognise it. Is it important?”
He would have bet money that the highly advanced Elinare would have known what it was. He retrieved the gem and returned it to his pack. “It’s probably nothing. Forget it.”
They burst into a clearing. Dandelions and daisies jostled amid the thick grass. Broken clouds parted like stage curtains, revealing a daytime moon, larger and brighter than any he had ever seen.
Her upturned face shone in its light, and an elfin smile gathered about her lips. “Welcome to the Haven, Quinn.”
~
Quinn slipped out of the navigator’s chair. Grey, Rahada, and the Badhati were gathered around the central table. Tilted above them, a huge screen showed a shining world, bathed in a golden aura.
Quinn joined them and stared at the display. “Where are we?”
Rahada’s hands flew over the table, replacing one set of symbols with another. She shook her head. “Somewhere that cannot exist.”
“We are deep in a fold of space,” Grey said. “Readings are highly confused. The planet you see appears to have no sun.”
Quinn gazed at the radiant globe filling the screen. “Where’s its light coming from?”
“It’s surrounded by a massive energy field,” Rahada replied. “I don’t recognise the configuration.”
“All right then, where’s the energy coming from?”
Rahada stared at the table. “Unknown.”
The Badhati loomed over him and boomed like a kindly professor. “You brought us here. I assume this world is the centre of Elinare.”
“That’s what Keiza told me. She called it the Haven.”
The Badhati turned to Rahada. “We should attempt contact.”
She shook her head. “Signals just bounce off. The field’s impenetrable.”
“Apparently not,” Grey trilled.
Quinn glanced up at the screen. A section of space above the planet glowed. As it grew in brightness, a shining orb emerged and headed straight for them.
Rahada’s fingers danced across the table. “Launching zahar.”
A dark ball spitting purple energy emerged from the bottom of the screen.
“What are you doing?” Grey demanded.
“That inbound device may be a weapon. We have to deactivate it before it reaches us.”
“And what if it’s not a weapon?” the Badhati asked.
“We can’t take that chance,” she replied.
The zahar spun silently, heading straight for the orb.
The Badhati reached out and splayed his long fingers over the table. “Offensive action requires the agreement of all three representatives.”
“The zahar will not destroy the device, merely drain its energy.”
“Nevertheless—”
The dark ball vanished as if it had passed through an unseen doorway. Rahada’s hand movements grew desperate. Finally, she smashed the table with a tiny fist. “Contact lost.”
“A rift opened in space just ahead of the zahar,” Grey said. “Fascinating.”
“The Elinare device is slowing,” the Badhati said. The shining orb filled the screen. “Based on its size and configuration, I don’t believe it’s a weapon. More likely, it’s a small ship.”
Rahada pointed to a new set of symbols. “It’s not slowing enough. It’s on a collision course.” Her hands were a blur over the table. “Evasive manoeuvres!”
“Impact imminent,” Grey said. “Cargo bay.”
Quinn’s heart went to his mouth. Conor’s there.
“Damage?” Rahada yelled.
“No damage,” Grey replied.
“What? That’s impossible!”
The Badhati stared up at the starry dome. “We would have felt something.”
“Rear section is intact,” Grey reported. “No depressurisation. The object appears to have phased through the cargo doors. It’s now occupying our cargo bay.”
“We have a visitor,” the Badhati said. “I would suggest we hurry.
But Quinn was already hea
ded for the main doors.
~
Quinn stumbled onto a cargo deck bathed in light. The shining orb filled the far end, reaching three-quarters of the way towards the ceiling.
In the near corner, Quinn caught sight of the dolin, along with Zothan and Vyasa, but there was no sign of Conor. The three representatives entered behind him. Ignoring them, Quinn ran to the dolin. Vyasa took to the air and met him halfway. “Where’s my son?”
Her smile vanished. “He’s taken refuge in the dolin. Zothan felt it was the safest course.”
He breathed a sigh and followed her back to the dolin.
Zothan acknowledged him with a nod. “Magatha rashan, Quinn. I have been observing the phenomenon, but so far, it has made no aggressive moves towards us.”
The representatives caught up to them. Grey held a small, triangular device. “I detect no harmful emissions.”
Rahada took a step towards the orb. “It’s just sitting there. What’s it doing here?”
“It’s your transport.”
Quinn whirled around. Keiza stood behind him, clad in the full-length white robe she had been wearing the last time he saw her. “Transport?”
The others stared at him. I’m the only one who can see her. He gave an apologetic smile. “Keiza’s here. She’s saying this is a transport of some kind.”
“The energy field—of course,” the Badhati said. “It seems the Elinare are inviting us to join them on the surface.”
“You and I must go,” Keiza said. “The rest can come or not. It’s up to them.”
“Uh, Keiza says anyone can come if they wish.”
“I am sworn to protect you,” Rahada said. “I will accompany you, along with your friends, Vyasa, Zothan, and the dolin, if you’ll have me.”
“What about Conor?” Vyasa asked.
Quinn recalled the Badhati on the transit. Discontent stalks this vessel. He wasn’t about to leave Conor here, unprotected. “He comes with me.”
“Then it’s decided,” Rahada said. She turned to Grey and the Badhati. “Consult the Shanata. They will appoint a replacement for me.”
The Badhati bowed low. “We will await your return.”
Keiza started towards the orb, glanced over her shoulder, and smiled. “This way.”
Quinn trailed after her, followed by the others. As they approached, the brightness swallowed them. Seconds later, the orb rose into the air, passed through the cargo bay doors, and was gone.
~
“Where is he?”
Ximun stared at a line of seven Damise in high-backed chairs mounted on a dais. He tried to make out which of them had spoken. It hardly mattered. The shadowy creatures spoke with a single voice. He had often wondered if they were linked in a manner similar to the Osei’s Unity, though he knew better than to ask.
He replied in Damise. “He will come.”
The Agantzane remnant had forged a partnership with the Damise. In theory, they were equals, but Damise technology was clearly superior, and their fleet of living ships was being augmented daily as the AI absorbed what was left of the Consensus. Ximun was under no illusions. He served at the Damise’s pleasure—for now, at least.
The Damise at the centre of the seven rose, its outline blurring as it moved. It pointed an accusing figure at Ximun’s head. “Yours is the responsibility. We committed this ship on your word that the creature could be trusted.”
It had taken Ximun some while to convince the Damise to commit even a single ship to this expedition, but they had been forced to concede that the potential reward far outweighed the risk. He exhaled through his upper mouth, and his head deflated slightly like a balloon. “Whether he can be trusted, I do not know. I do know he has everything to gain by assisting us.”
“Your premise is weak.”
“On the contrary, all races are united by a single motivating factor—enlightened self-interest.”
The Damise chorus made a sound partway between an echo and a snort. “Is this the fabled strategic mastery of the Agantzane?”
“You will see.” He sounded more confident than he felt. Strategy was a balance of probabilities. The behaviour of a group was highly predictable, but individuals had an annoying tendency to act irrationally, and he knew next to nothing about this particular entity. Yet he had staked his life on the outcome because the rewards of success were incalculable. His motive was clear—enlightened self-interest.
A small silver globe materialised in front of him. The space beneath it rippled, and Vil-gar appeared. He sniffed the air with his proboscis.
“Where have you been?” the Damise demanded.
“Out and about,” Vil-gar replied in Damise.
The Damise excelled in technology, but their diplomatic skills left much to be desired. Ximun stepped in. “You were gone for some while. We were becoming concerned.”
“I’ll bet you were,” the little creature piped. “This is the null universe. Without my extraordinary computational skills, you’d be lost.”
Vil-gar’s bloated self-importance left him open to flattery. It was a weakness Ximun could exploit.
“Your abilities are unrivalled, it’s true. You deserve a position more suited to your talents. What was it you said that the human offered you… sanctuary? We will give you far more. In the New Consensus, you will become absolute ruler of Earth and all of its dependent worlds.”
“That’s a generous offer. How can I know you will keep your word?”
Ximun did his best to sound matter-of-fact. “Yours is the most powerful intellect in the galaxy. We would be foolish to squander such a resource. Besides, Earth is primitive. Our interest in it extends only to its future threat potential. Once that has been eliminated, we would be content to turn it over to a responsible ally and pursue more pressing concerns.”
“Take us to our destination, now!” The Damise chorus reverberated around the chamber.
“Are you sure you want to leave right away?” Vil-gar asked. “Because I found something quite interesting—the Damise ship that ventured here bearing the human, Quinn.”
“Our sensors show no other ship.”
“It’s out there, in a million bits.”
“It was destroyed?”
Vil-gar cocked his head. “That depends on your point of view.”
The Damise’s reply carried a dark undercurrent. “Do not toy with us, Farish.”
Vil-gar responded with a slight nod. “Forgive me, Lords. I merely meant that the conservation of energy and matter is as valid in this universe as it is in ours. Your ship still exists. Which opens up an intriguing possibility—reconstruction.”
“Our AI is not designed for such a purpose,” the Damise said.
“Perhaps not. But the program is adaptive. With a few tweaks, I believe I could modify it to achieve the desired result.”
Whispers rustled through the Damise like autumn leaves. “Very well. We have dispatched the AI to search for the ship’s remains. Our sensors will monitor the results.”
“Outstanding! I’ll be back shortly.” Vil-gar vanished along with his sphere.
The wall behind the Damise transformed into a massive backdrop. Ximun stared at the blackness and tried to steady the rate of both his hearts.
A smudge of light appeared for a microsecond and was gone. He had already dismissed it as his imagination when he registered a flash. Out in the void, scattered debris drew together, organising itself. Bulkheads reformed, engines rebuilt, and shattered flesh revivified. Both his mouths lay open as the outline of a triangular vessel emerged from the darkness. If the AI was now capable of recreating destroyed ships and their crews, it rendered the Damise all but invincible. The prospect was both exhilarating and terrifying.
Vil-gar’s sphere rematerialised, followed by his projection. “The vessel is restored. Ship and crew are under AI control.”
“You have performed a great service for the Damise,” the chorus declared.
“That’s just the start.” Vil-gar’s projecti
on pointed a bony finger at the dark backdrop. A shining mote appeared at its centre.
“You found it,” Ximun breathed.
“Indeed,” Vil-gar said. “They did their best to hide in a deep rift of space-time, but with my analytical prowess, I sniffed them out. That is the centre of the Elinare.”
Ximun swept towards the dais and addressed the Damise. “They will not be expecting an attack. If we strike now and in force, we can eliminate them in a single blow.”
He held each of his tongues. Finally, the chorus spoke. “Send the signal. Order the fleet to enter the null universe.”
The screen rippled, revealing a new area of darkness. Flashes seared the void, and dozens of ships appeared. Turning in unity like a school of fish, they bore down on the last refuge of the Elinare.
END OF BOOK THREE
Author’s Note
Thank you for reading this installment of the Arc of the Universe series. Many more adventures lie ahead in my current series, if you haven’t read them yet, or future ones still to be written!
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