Valhai (The Ammonite Galaxy)

by Gillian Andrews

  “Bare planet?” suggested Diva.

  He inclined his head. “Bare planet,” he agreed. “But although we can get to the ground floor of the other buildings, the doors won’t open on failsafe to my biosigns, and the original inhabitants are all at least forty-eight floors up with no lifts working.”

  “Then the only sensible thing to do is for us to use the supplies ourselves to keep fit,” Diva said. “How are we for oxygen?”

  “We estimate another couple of days before we begin to notice the effects,” he said. “But that was before you arrived. With three more people using up the air that time will go down drastically.”

  “Then we will have to move fast.”

  They pulled on their bodywraps and went out, leaving a jubilant and ferocious Cimma on guard by the terrace door. She was sitting bolt upright on a chair, with a line still attached to her arm, and a portable drip unit on wheels beside the chair. Her face was pale and puffy and her hair lank. There were neat bandages around her waist area, and she was wearing a clean hospital robe open at the back except for two ties. All in all, she was a dreadful sight.

  “You won’t need the knife to repel any prospective attackers!” said Grace, bending to kiss her on the cheek. “They will take one look at you and run!”

  “I know.” Cimma was complacent.

  “You did a good job up on the twenty-first floor. If it hadn’t been for you they would have got out of the lift before Arcan could stop them. You saved all of us.”

  “I know that too. I told you I would,” Cimma said.

  “I know, Matri. I won’t ever doubt you again. I promise.”

  “Go on with you now, don’t hang around here. I will be waiting, and don’t you worry, I will make quite sure nobody gets in here!”

  Diva led the way out onto the terrace. The other three followed her; Grace with accustomed ease, and the last two muffled figures with noticeable reluctance.

  Once they had forgotten their initial doubts, however, Vion and Six showed a distinct tendency to lag behind and marvel at the view.

  “Look at Cian! Have you . . .”

  “Yes, yes, we know,” snapped Diva. “Now do come on. We have to get this thing solved before the whole of Sell runs out of air.”

  “Well, I like that!” said Six. “Who was it who wasted time making us all have showers before we came out?”

  “Just doing your bodywrap a favour,” replied Diva. “Otherwise it would have needed fumigating.”

  “Are you insinuating I smell bad?” he demanded.

  “Haven’t you noticed everybody was standing upwind of you?”

  “And I suppose you smelt of roses?”

  “No. But Kwaidians sweat and Coriolans perspire. That’s the difference,” she informed him kindly.

  “You sure did a lot of perspiring in Benefice!”

  She looked at him pityingly. “And that’s why I needed a shower.” Then she turned to Grace and raised her eyes towards Cian. “Men! Sometimes I think the poor things drew the short straw as far as understanding goes.”

  “Leave him alone, Diva,” Grace told her. “He’ll block his mask pack if you make him angry.”

  “I will not!” Six took exception to that, and took a deep breath which caused his mask valve to hiss ominously. The girls started to laugh. Six limited his reaction to a frown. He would take care of them later, he decided. For the time being he contented himself with following the girls across the starry velvet surface of Valhai, dark grey under the violet of Cian. Today Sacras was low in the sky, throwing even longer shadows across the uneven terrain.

  As they approached the lake it was clear that things were no better. The lake was a ghastly colour. Instead of the usual glossy black iridescence, it was a dull muddy colour tainted with fetid strings of scum on the surface. They exchanged looks of dismay.

  Grace put her hands on the surface and began to sign.

  “Arcan!”

  There was a long pause. She tried again.

  “Arcan?”

  At last there was a feeble push against her fingers.

  “Solution impossible.” And the surface under her hands quivered. Around them, there was a momentary ripple of black, but it disappeared almost as soon as it had come. Grace sat back horrified.

  “What can we do to help?” she asked.

  Diva and Six shook their heads. Vion got to his feet and began to extract various flasks from his medical pack. He took about thirty different samples of the lake, one every ten metres or so, marking them all carefully, and storing them in their cushioned slots in his case. Grace remembered what Arcan had said about moving organic parts out of reach of inquisitive eyes, and hoped he hadn’t done that now. They needed the samples to try to cure him.

  “We need the help of the exobiologists from the 86th house, the exochemists from the 12th house, and the exophysicists from the 13th house.” Vion said calmly. “They are the only chance we have of finding out what has happened to Arcan, and hopefully reversing it. Come on. There is no time to be lost.”

  They made a sad procession back to the skyrises, leaving behind them a desperate struggle for survival. The shadows lengthened as they left, making the landscape seem even more ominous.

  Vion didn’t even take off the bodywrap when they got back. Nor did it occur to him to maintain his usual discretion. It seemed to him that the time for that was past. He had to get the samples to the right people. He took command of the situation.

  “Six. You will take a quarter of the samples to the 13th house, the exophysicists. Diva, the 12th house, the exochemists, and Grace, to the exobiologists in the 86th house. That is much further away so it had better be you rather than Diva and Six. You have more practice at going bare planet. I will have to stay here to coordinate. For goodness sake, make sure you take enough mask packs. I will ask one of the house members to climb down to the lower levels to meet you halfway, if I can convince them. If not you will just have to make your way up to the highest floors. Now, go!”

  Grace pulled out a detailed plan of Sell, and showed Diva and Six the position of the two skyrises. Then they each took a quarter of the samples, and made their way again out onto the terrace and down the metal stairs set into the Rexelene.

  Vion set to work contacting the skyrises involved. Thanks to the independent energy source the tridi system had remained in working order throughout the siege. He called up the three laboratories, and explained the problem.

  “ . . . so unless we are capable of finding a remedy very quickly both the orthogel lifeform, and the Sell race will die,” he finished.

  “What do you want us to do?”

  “First, send someone down the outside steps to one of the lower floors to receive the samples. The couriers should be there at your skyrises in about forty minutes, but it will take them a long time to make their way up to the higher floors.”

  “What!” all three heads of house protested, astounded. “We can’t ask anybody to go outside! It is unheard of!”

  “Please try,” Vion requested. “The samples are being delivered by one person in each case, and if they have to climb up fifty floors in a mask pack they will end up extenuated. I am uncertain whether or not they will be able to reach you in those circumstances.”

  The heads of house consulted with their families. One of them agreed to send somebody at least twenty floors down. The others refused point blank.

  Vion looked at his notes. The unfortunates would be Diva and Six, who would have to scale fifty floors on the outside of the skyrises. He bit his lip. He wasn’t sure that they would make it. Even Grace, with thirty floors, would be totally exhausted.

  “I want your promise for protection for the couriers. They will have to stay in your skyrises. They will need time to recuperate, and we may need them as couriers again if you do succeed in coming up with a solution.”

  The heads of house agreed to allow rest time for the three and to provide mask packs for their eventual return to the 367th skyrise.


  “We need to establish a priority channel for your work. Can one of you deal with the protocols involved?” asked Vion.

  “You should have patched in the Dome,” rebuked Timon, the head of the exobiologists. “I will do that now.”

  “No . . .!” started Vion, but it was too late. The angry face of Mandalon appeared on the tridi, and Vion closed his eyes momentarily. He was no diplomat.

  “Please explain yourself.” Mandalon was curt.

  Vion went through all of the details.

  “And just how is it that you became involved with all this?” The dignitary demanded in a harsh voice laden with suspicion. “And why should we believe all that you say? It sounds like a trick to me.”

  “There is no trick. What would be the point? I am simply asking for interdisciplinary co-ordination on a scientific matter. It is clear that something is wrong with the orthogel, and that if we don’t help it to survive we are all going to perish too,” he said coolly. “We have nothing to lose.”

  Mandalon thought for a minute or two. “I will accept the premise,” he said. “But I will require a detailed report later and there will be a full enquiry.”

  “Very well. Please ensure we have a priority channel open.”

  “Effective now.” Mandalon glared at the tridi. “I shall expect to be informed immediately of any developments.”

  “You will be. Cutting the connexion.” Vion was very glad to get the last three words out. He had felt like a Kwaidian eel on a fisherman’s hook while talking to Mandalon.

  “How long have we got?” the physicist was asking.

  “My estimate is that Sell will start to become unable to sustain life in about another twenty-four hours. The orthogel entity is an unknown variable. There is no way of telling how long it can survive. But without it we can’t stay here for more than a few days, and we can’t even evacuate, since it controls the space elevator up to the space-station too.”

  “Very well. We understand. The damage sustained by the entity on Coriolis must be reverted,” the head of the exochemists said. “I and all my family will start work immediately. We will confirm arrival of the samples, and report progress as soon as there is any. Connexion in open abeyance.”

  The other two houses followed suit. Vion turned from the screen and made his way over to the remaining samples. Then he made a decision and went to an interscreen. It would be better to face up to his father’s wrath now, when the old man might have some valuable input, rather than later. His father deserved that much from his son.

  Vion 48 was disbelieving as he listened to his son recount what was happening.

  “I thought I specifically told you not to call attention to yourself!” he spluttered. “And you have to go around giving an ultimatum to Mandalon!”

  “I know. But there was really no other logical step possible, Father. I am very sorry, but our survival depends on that of this orthogel entity, and since Mandalon and his cronies made such a mess of things I think the scientists should have a chance.”

  That was a persuasive argument for his father. There were very few things he disliked as much as the preening politician.

  “That Xianthan peacock!” he growled. “Serves him right if we do take control of things. Very well, Vion. You may count on my support. What help can I be?”

  “I thought you might have an idea of the tests we could carry out from a medical point of view? What is wrong with Arcan may in essence be a medical complaint of some sort? I would value your advice.”

  “Hmm . . . I will get back to you immediately. Just give me some moments to consider what tests might be valuable. We will compare notes in a quarter of an hour.”

  “Excellent. Thank you Father.”

  Six and Diva reached their respective blocks first. Six’s was the nearer, and the 13th skyrise housing the exophysicists was the following block. He gave Diva a remote high five and then stood watching as she disappeared past the rexelene to find her own ladder, in parallel with his. It must have been about a hundred and fifty or two hundred metres away, he thought. Close enough that he would be able to see her as a miniature of herself as she made the ascent.

  He looked up. The metal ladders hung above him vertically. Each floor was a continuation of the one below, so that the effect was of fifty stories of ladder, plummeting from top to bottom. A long way to fall, he thought grimly. Well. Better not waste time.

  He tied the sample bag securely to his back, where it would avoid any casual impact with the stairs, and began to make his way up. The first two stories didn’t even count, he realized. They simply led past the rexelene shock absorbers.

  By the time he had passed the first floor he had located the tiny figure of Diva, negotiating her own sheer ladder on the following block. She was slightly below his level, perhaps still on the ground floor. Grace’s block had been in a different direction entirely, so there was no chance he would be able to see her ascent.

  The mask pack was acting up. It didn’t take kindly to the hard use he was putting it too. Six knew that to get the correct amount of air it was necessary to breathe slowly and calmly. Fine. Except when you were exhausting yourself scaling precipitous ladders. He would have liked to see whoever invented these packs breathing slowly and calmly then! It was impossible. His breath wanted to come in searing gasps, and it was a huge effort to keep the amount of air sucked in a constant.

  The fifth floor. He swung off the ladder and on to the terrace it bypassed for a small break. He doubled over to get his breathing steady again. Sacras! And this was only the fifth of fifty! He hoped someone would get down to meet him soon. He walked over to the other edge of the terrace to locate Diva. She was scaling steadily, already on to his own level.

  His own level! That made him scramble back up onto the ladder again. There was no way that Diva was going to climb this pestilent ladder faster than he did. No way on Lumina. Fixing his gaze on the distant minifigure, he gritted his teeth and concentrated on his breathing. One hand, breath. One foot, breath. One hand, breath. One foot, breath. They were level pegging. He ignored the sweat running down his face. One hand, breath. One foot, breath. On and on. Over and over.

  Diva, in her own private hell, was feeling dizzy. She hung from a rung for a moment, and let her neck slump forward. It helped. Perspiration was running down her face under the mask pack, and causing water to pool under the chin. It was most unattractive, she thought. She risked a quick look behind her. The tiny splodge which was Six was on the same level! She glared at the distant speck. There was no way that nomus was going to climb this thing before she did! No way on Lumina! She stretched her neck, and dipped her head lightly from side to side, pulling the tendons taut. That was better. Dizzy indeed! As if! She began to swarm up the ladder again. Hand, breathe. Foot, breathe. Hand, breathe. Foot, breathe. Don’t look down, she told herself. Whatever you do, don’t look down.

  Six risked a glance down. And froze. By Almagest! It was an awful long way. He clutched onto the metallic rungs, and closed his eyes. Suddenly he was unable to move. Why had he looked down? I bet Diva isn’t dumb enough to do that, he thought. A nasty suspicion crept into his conscious. She is going to beat you. Kwaidian! She is going to be first.

  He swore. And tore his gaze from down to horizontal, trying to locate that little dark strip that was Diva. There! And she was higher now than he was! His will compelled his hand to move. At first the hand refused, clenched as it was in an iron grip around the metal bar. Finally and grudgingly it obeyed his will. The sheer effort of coercion of his own muscles brought more sweat to his brow. But there! He was past it, he was moving again. Now, he clamped his gaze on Diva and left it there. One hand, breathe. One foot, breathe. He must be over half way up. Where were the Sellites who were coming to meet him? One hand, breathe. One foot, breathe. He fixed his thoughts on Atheron and the Elder who had sent him here in the first place and tried to occupy his mind thinking up fitting punishments for them.

  Grace was luckier. She was met at the tw
enty-fifth floor in the end, only half way up the block. Unlike Six and Diva she didn’t have the added problem of having to change her mask pack in the middle of the ascent. Her replacement opened the biolock on that floor and let her in.

  “You will be fine here. There is no food left anywhere, of course, but you can rest, and you will find plenty of mask packs when you need them. Please contact us through the interscreen when you have rested.”

  Grace gave a tired nod of assent. But she remembered to pass over the dozen nutripacks Vion had added as an afterthought. The heads of house would need sustenance if they were to solve all Arcan’s problems. She wondered if she could make it to a bedchamber, and if she would have the energy to divest herself of her bodywrap. She just hoped it would all be worth it, and they could save Arcan. Her mind was all jumbled and confused, full of images from all over. At least she could breathe freely at last. She tore the mask pack off in relief.

  Before he went, the Sellite reprogrammed the biolock to accept her biosign. “I don’t want to make this journey twice!” he told her. “I don’t think I have ever been so scared in my whole life.”

  “I’m sorry. Thank you very much for climbing down all this way. Will you be all right getting back up?”

  “I will have to be,” he answered grimly. “So long as I forget the height and the lack of air!”

  Grace nodded again, although she had been so concentrated on getting here she had forgotten to be scared. She hoped Diva and Six were all right. They weren’t so used to the mask packs as she was. She closed her eyes, and found herself stumbling. Get to bed, she thought. You are going to fall down on the spot if you don’t. She took one of the two remaining nutripacks, and drank it. That would do for the time being.