The Tau Ceti Diversion

by Chris McMahon

  ***

  Utar made his way across the open ground with measured steps, his awareness held within the confines of the moment. He knew that his own time was drawing to a close, and he drank in the sights around him with the thirst of a dying man, savoring and cherishing the life he saw. Behind him followed his two acolytes, carrying a huge bowl between them.

  He watched the Imbirri at play. So innocent. Changeless. They had already forgotten the great desecration visited on them by the frail aliens, their minds lost in the present, focused fully on the rituals and habits learned and reinforced during their vast history of unchanging years. These simple creatures would soon be gone forever, yet now they were alive and vital. Utar smiled, an unfamiliar sadness touching him, driving hot tears from the nipples along his torso. How much longer will I see through these ancient eyes of mine?

  His small procession moved forward at a slow, measured pace. As they drew closer to the Tree, Utar reluctantly drew his eyes away from the scene and regarded the huge living dome above him. Its crown lay blackened and skeletal. This destruction no longer disturbed Utar as it had, for it was symbolic of the plight of the Imbirri. New growth would come, and the darkness, the charred fragments, would fall away under the hand of time.

  Without pause, Utar entered the great living dome, breathing deeply of the incense that filled the expanse. The great bulk of the Awakener filled the ragged throne. Above them, the rough tear in the crown admitted the constant light of the dark side of Cru, breaking the perfect gloom in which they had worshipped for so long. These changes now excited Utar, for they were heralds of a new age. He approached the dais, moving through the ranks of the First who had assembled here.

  The Awakener accepted the Elixir grimly. His hands still shook with grief and rage. Utar and his two acolytes bowed and withdrew to the ranks of the First.

  As the Deepwatch straightened he met the gaze of his beloved Awakener and saw the pain there. How he longed to reveal his vision to the Awakener, to fill him with the same hope that softened his knowledge of their inevitable end, but he could not. Walking the paths of the future had stretched his spirit through the years and it was the future that silenced him. All now balanced on a knife-edge.

  The shaman turned away from the pain-filled gaze of the Awakener.

  He could speak no longer.

  A low humming began to fill the air as the Awakener took a draught of the precious liquid, passing it on to the ranks of the faithful who surrounded him. Gradually the melody rose, flaring suddenly into impassioned voice like a rising cloud of frenzied redwings. The huge steel bowl that contained the Elixir was passed from hand to hand, a taste enough to reaffirm its powers.

  When the last of them were sated, Utar signaled for his acolytes to begin the ceremony and they led the First from within the embrace of the Tree. As the last of them pushed through the low-hanging branches that covered the entrance, Utar remained within the Tree.

  The Awakener rose from his dais and came toward him, his great face etched with pain. He searched out Utar’s gaze as though seeking shelter, laying a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

  “Why should this have happened? For so long we had peace. It seemed it would last forever.” The Awakener glanced up toward the broken canopy. His smooth face twisted by rage. “They have destroyed that which we loved!”

  It was a long moment before the Awakener could collect himself. “You warned me, my good friend, but I did not listen. Destroy them, you said, before they are our doom! I should have listened, Utar. Yours was the wise council.”

  Utar watched his dear friend in silence, as though he was already a spectral being, divorced from the living.

  The silence stretched.

  “I implore you! What should be done? Tell me, Utar, that it is not too late. That if we destroy them now, utterly, we will still have a chance to save this rapturous piece of eternity.”

  Utar felt the Awakener’s grief, his awareness focused fully on the present as though through a powerful lens. The overlapping boughs and branches of the Tree, as tightly woven as a basket, every leaf and piece of bark, the soft hiss of the torches, the pungent odor; each sensation was sharpened to clear reality, and Utar knew he would take these last moments with him to his funeral bier.

  “Why are you silent? Is this your cruel punishment? Here! Take the scepter, destroy them!” The Awakener thrust the scepter toward Utar, but the shaman pushed it away.

  “I can no longer act,” said Utar, opening his heart. “And I can no longer speak.”

  The Deepwatch turned away from him and left the Tree’s sanctuary. Behind him, he could feel the Awakener’s grief turn to despair.

  “Utar!” The Awakener pushed through the entrance to watch him walk away, his mind and heart now closed to him.

  “Utar!”

  CHAPTER 11

  It was like the fugue, yet unlike it. Once more, Karic’s senses had expanded beyond himself, yet now he was connecting to something at the very limits of his consciousness, at the boundaries of this new world itself.

  In this strange, lucid dream, Karic had been drawn across the surface of the planet by the power of another sleeping mind, trapped like him in a cage of silent flesh. Through the checkerboard pattern of light and shadow created by the crystal mountains of the night side, across the terminator to the blinding brilliance and heat of the day side, glimpses of vast, glittering structures flashed past him until, at last, all motion ceased and he was there.

  This torpid Other was encased by technology, encircled by the power of his own mind, held like a precious jewel amid the lucent, golden torrent of Tau Ceti’s undiluted light.

  As he had with Utar, Karic tried for connection. “Who are you?”

  The Other stirred. Karic sensed that the alien’s sleep was like a numbing drug that weighed him down. The merest fragment of the being’s consciousness swam to the surface, enough for the briefest of answers, dredged from an alien dream. I await the call. The thoughts formed in Karic’s mind like a string of amber jewels. That outreaching tendril of the alien’s consciousness sank back into sleep. Then, as though from a great distance, one more chain of thought reached Karic before the Other was gone. For so long I have slept now, waiting for my children to come.

  He could no longer maintain the bond over such a distance. Karic’s mind fled back across the planet’s surface to verdant forests of the night side.

  Karic!

  Someone else called him now.

  Karic!

  His strange, lucid state snapped like an overstretched cable.

  Karic turned to see the bars of the cage above, bent dreamlike in the lens of sleep. I am a prisoner.

  “Karic, wake up!”

  He felt himself being shaken violently. He opened his eyes to see Mara above him.

  “Mara. What … ?”

  In response, she turned her gaze upward, toward the huge figure who stood at the edge of the pit. It was the shaman. Utar. A jolt of fear sent his heart racing.

  “Have they come for us?” Karic sat up. His burned arm throbbed painfully.

  Mara shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. It’s something else.”

  His head still swimming from the lucid dream, Karic stood up.

  Above him, the shaman waited patiently for him to stir. The savage gleam was gone from Utar’s eyes, instead they were filled with a softly flickering glow. Karic sensed resignation.

  As Karic watched, the bulky being bent forward to kneel beside the cage. He held up a comband, which was dwarfed by the size of his hand. He dangled the device just above the bars of the cage and with deliberate motions turned one of the tiny switches on and off, repeating the motion as though to ensure they understood.

  “What is he doing?” said Mara, drawing closer to Karic.

  The engineer nodded, finally understanding. “He’s switching the comband’s emergency beacon on and off.”

  “What is he telling us?”

  Karic raised his eyes to meet those of
Utar. They regarded each other without emotion, recognizing each other as human and Imbirri.

  The light within Utar’s eyes began to build.

  Karic felt the hairs on his arms stand up as a delicate field of energy wrapped around him.

  There was a tingling, aching sensation in his mind. A longing. His heart took a leap as he realized what it was. It was the fugue state in its most embryonic form, asking to be given birth. He had spent his life resisting the fugue. It had represented everything that could destroy him: lack of control, the brand of dysfunction in the eyes of others — all intolerable for a man of his intellect. Yet now he knew it for what it truly was. A gift.

  And he hungered to see the alien’s mind.

  As he had before, the first time he communicated with Utar beneath the tree, Karic surrendered to the fugue. His mind expanded, reaching out to connect with the world around him. The rough walls of the pit. The intense vitality of the jungle. Mara’s fear and desperation. But it was Utar who was the focus. The alien’s mind was a glowing thing, spinning off thought — like steam rising from a geothermal spring. A little gem shot toward him from Utar’s mind, tumbling like a miniature crystal, silvered glass panes set with irregular, irresistible genius across its outer surface. As he focused, it expanded in a flash of white light. Utar’s thought blossomed in his mind.

  The small spark of Vision within you is growing rapidly, human. I am relieved, because time is short.

  Karic could feel Utar’s surprise at his abilities.

  My name is Karic, the leader of this crew. I am from a planet called Earth. I did not sanction the attack on your people. We mean you no harm.

  His thoughts were easily read by Utar, who sang a short, bittersweet melody.

  I am Utar, Deepwatch of the Imbirri. My people have suffered, Karic, since you set foot on our sacred planet of Cru. What you meant, or did not mean, is now of no consequence. The future will be served. Karic could feel Utar’s determination strengthen. Will you help the Imbirri?

  Karic was unsure what the price of helping the Imbirri would be, or if he would be endangering the survivors of the Starburst. But if there was a chance he could win his freedom, he would take it.

  Will you free us? Karic asked, across the link.

  Karic could feel Utar’s sorrow as the Deepwatch replied. The future demands it. Each of us — human and Imbirri — has our part to play before the future finally becomes manifest. You will be freed, I will see to it.

  He could see a resonating field of thought that Utar was holding close to his mind. Secrets he was not to know … yet.

  Your task, Karic, is to follow the song of this device. Utar lifted up the personal beacon, his eyes shining with increasing brilliance. Use it to find me, Karic. Do not fail. All depends on you. Beware the Awakener. An image of the huge alien who led the Imbirri filled Karic’s mind.

  Karic was filled with questions, but the mental link with Utar broke as the big Imbirri turned away, striding rapidly from the pit. With an effort of will, he shifted his awareness away from the fugue state. Once more, he was confronted with the rough walls and the rancid smells of the pit.

  He was confused, but the important thing was what he had learned. They were going to be freed! So far, none of the crew had been killed. If he could get back to the lander, take charge, he could salvage all of this.

  “What was that all about?”

  In the intensity of the exchange he had forgotten about Mara.

  Karic looked across at her, his mind still filled with the strange excitement engendered by the communication. A sense of unreality hit him. Here he was, standing on an alien planet, communicating telepathically with the natives. He would have laughed if the situation had not been so dangerous. As it was, his unexpected gift — the altered fugue state — had enabled him to strike some sort of deal with Utar.

  “What the frigging hell did you think you were doing? Having a ten-minute staring match with that shaman? Do you want him to kill us?”

  What could he say to her?

  “Mara, his name is Utar. He is a Deepwatch — some sort of protector — for his people, the Imbirri. He spoke to me, Mara. Mind to mind.”

  Mara shook her head. “No …”

  Karic ploughed on, pushing through her skepticism. If he did not tell her now, he would lose his nerve. It had always been one of his greatest fears that others would think him mentally imbalanced, or unstable, because of the fugue. “This planet, Mara. We called it Oasis, but the Imbirri have a name for it. Cru. It is sacred to them, Mara. No wonder they reacted to us like they did.”

  “Damn you, Karic. Why are you carrying on like this?” Mara’s fists were clenched, her face screwed up in anger. She did not believe him.

  “Utar was against us from the start, Mara. I knew that. But something has changed. He is some sort of shaman, and he has seen something. He would not let me see it, but something has changed his mind.”

  “Ahhhh. Shit!” Mara covered her face with her hands and paced around the pit like a trapped animal. “This is a frigging nightmare! What is this planet doing to us? First Janzen, now you, Karic. I can’t trust either of you assholes anymore.”

  Karic grabbed Mara’s arms and forced her to look at him. “Everything I am telling you is true! Utar is going to free us.”

  Mara pulled out of his grip.

  How could he explain the fugue state to her? His altered genes? The transformation he had experienced?

  Mara sat at the far end of the pit, her back turned to him.

  He slumped down, defeated in his attempt to win her over.

  What did Utar mean? Follow the song of your device. Of course! It was the personal beacon on the comband. Somehow Utar had figured out how to activate the beacon, and had identified its low-powered radio signal as the “song” of the device. It seemed impossible that he could have known this without equipment, but Karic was sure. At some point after they were freed, Utar wanted him to locate the wrist-worn communicator by following the beacon. But why? What would Utar demand of them once they located him? Why the elaborate scheme? What was he planning?

  He rubbed his face, weary of his circling thoughts. “Once he frees us, we have to find him, following the personal beacon,” said Karic. “That’s what he told me.”

  “Shut your frigging mouth!” Mara turned to face him. “Just stop it. Stop it. I need you sane.” Her face was red and wet with tears.

  Karic jumped as a wall of harmony filled the air. It was as though all of the Imbirri had given voice at the very same moment.

  He waved Mara toward him. “We need to see what’s going on. This gives us the best view.”

  Mara looked at Karic, confused by his apparent lucidity.

  After a brief hesitation, she climbed onto his back once more. He straightened and her head emerged through the thick bars of the cage, giving her a good view of the camp.

  “What’s happening up there?”

  “It’s some sort of ceremony,” said Mara. “They are all gathered in a circle, passing a bowl between them.”

  “Can you support your own weight?”

  “I think so,” said Mara.

  He sprang from the floor of the pit to grip the bars and hang beside her. Thousands of Imbirri had gathered in the center of the camp, and more were emerging from the surrounding jungle. They stood together in what appeared at first to be concentric circles, yet as he studied the camp, Karic realized they were not a series of circles, but one great spiral. Along the arm of this spiral, which now encompassed the whole campsite, bowls were being passed from hand to hand. A single sip was taken by each of the Imbirri and the bowls passed on. Karic saw the empty bowls being refilled by the acolytes of Utar from a huge metal urn.

  The vision of the camp was spectacular, yet it was not the scene that captured Karic, it was the song. It swelled — filling the air — turning the valley into a vast cathedral. Thousands of voices, each pure and true, a score of melodies threaded together like a tapestry. The shee
r power of the music was overwhelming, swirling about them like a tempest.

  His arms burned as he struggled to keep his head above the bars, but he soon forgot his aching muscles.

  “It’s wonderful,” she said.

  The music had a purity Karic had never experienced before. The Imbirri, now having all tasted their sacred potion — Karic guessed some sort of naturally derived drug — began to sway as they sang. The great spiral geometrically perfect.

  Karic heard distant thunder. No, not thunder. It was too continuous, more like a muffled roar. It grew rapidly, becoming a deafening sound.

  Thrusters.

  “It’s the lander!” yelled Karic.

  The huge, bulky shape of the lander swept across the village. Simultaneously, Andrai and Ibri ran from the forest verge, XR32s held at the ready.

  “What is Janzen doing?”

  Only one of the lander’s sensors was deployed, a long, unfamiliar aerial, projecting from the front. Karic had never seen it before — and he knew the lander’s specifications backwards.

  “What the …?”

  The scene was lit with a bright flash as a pulse of laser-fire swept through the Imbirri. Six of the beings were cut down, twice as many screaming as their skins charred to black at the merest touch of the beam.

  The lander fired again. That was no aerial! It was a laser turret!

  “Did you know the lander was equipped with a pulse laser?” said Karic, furious.

  “No,” said Mara.

  “I should have left him in stasis on Starburst.” What else had that bastard kept from them?

  The song ceased immediately, replaced by screams of outrage and panic, voiced together from a thousand throats. The perfectly choreographed spiral dissolved into a surging mob of alien flesh. Most of the Imbirri made for the forest verge, but not all. The purple-crowned Imbirri gathered into a single group and loped across the turf toward the lander. The giant Awakener — towering over all the Imbirri — emerged from the chaos, followed by his inner circle. The Imbirri leader sang a series of notes, then the tall reds ran forward. The taller Imbirri grabbed the purples and dragged them back to the safety of the trees.