The Chaos Chronicles

by Jeffrey A. Carver

  "I am quite well, Cap'n," said the robot, in a slightly tremorous voice.

  "Indeed it is," said the approaching Thespi female.

  Bandicut stood and extended a hand in greeting. "Antares. We meet at last," he said huskily. "I want to thank you. For helping save my life."

  "No thanks are necessary. Your norg—your Copernicus— brought me here," Antares said, taking a last cautious step over the broken cavern floor to Bandicut. She did not react to his extended hand, so he dropped it, rubbing his tingling wrist. Antares peered at him with an unreadable expression. He thought he felt something, a touch of . . . interest? sympathy? comradeship? Then it was gone, and she walked with him toward his friends. "May I assume—your companions?"

  "Uh, yes—Ik. And Li-Jared. And Napoleon," Bandicut said, stammering through the introductions. He concluded with Hroom, who seemed to know of her already.

  "I may be called . . . Antares," she said to the others. Something twinkled at her throat as she spoke. Translator-stones? Bandicut thought wonderingly. Did that explain her presence here? Up close, she looked almost human—except for subtle curvatures in the structure of her face, and the mane of hair down her neck, and the overlong fingers three to a hand. She was wearing a loose-fitting, burgundy pantsuit and carried a satchel with a strap slung over her shoulder. Her eyes, gold irises with black pupils, were quick and bright, studying him and the cavern around them. "Is the boojum destroyed?" Her nose quivered as she spoke.

  "I think so." Bandicut turned. "Hroom?"

  The foreman-shadow fluttered and wheeeked for a few moments. ". . . no trace found in the iceline . . . believe it is gone . . ."

  "Well, at least some damn good has come of this!" Li-Jared exclaimed. "Hroom, friend—would you happen to know, is there another ice cavern around? Surely this wasn't the only place where all that information was stored." Li-Jared was still dusting himself off, his electric-blue eyes expanding and contracting, as he readjusted to the new order of things.

  Hroom made a series of muttering sounds. ". . . other ice caverns indeed . . . or places of similar nature . . . throughout Shipworld . . ."

  "Great! Then can you—"

  ". . . but we do not know where . . . not in our territory . . ."

  "Gaaii," Ik muttered. "Will we be able to travel? Are normal Shipworld systems still going to work, with the icecore destroyed?"

  ". . . considerable disruption of communications and information services . . . trade . . . hardships for many . . . most vital infrastructures can function . . . independent control modes . . . but many problems . . . much to oversee, until a new icecore is grown . . ."

  "New icecore?" Bandicut asked with a start. "When? Where?"

  ". . . cannot predict exactly . . . but probably not here, or soon . . ."

  Bandicut grunted and glanced around at his other companions. His synapses were afire with feelings of confusion, loss, hope, sorrow . . . It was all too much to absorb at once. The icecore. The boojum. Antares. Napoleon was standing alongside Copernicus, and he had a strong feeling that they were engaged in an intense conversation. He wondered how much they understood.

  Hroom interrupted his reverie. ". . . must leave . . . much disruption to tend to . . ." The shadow-people were fluttering about, and many of them were already disappearing into what seemed to be thin air: the n-space channel through which they had appeared. Hroom, trembling in the air like loose black ribbons, lingered as the others were leaving. ". . . wish you success . . ."

  "Hroom, wait! How do we get out of here?" Ik cried.

  Whrreee-uuuk! ". . . never fear . . . doorway there, leads to a portal . . . still functional . . . may be of use in what you seek . . ."

  "Portal?" Li-Jared bounded close. "What sort of portal? To another ice cavern?"

  ". . . no . . . no . . . uncertain of its precise connection . . . but source associated with Maksu . . . indicated it might be of interest to you . . ."

  "Maksu?" Bandicut echoed in consternation. How much did he trust the Maksu? They had helped him get into this mess, and then fled.

  ". . . Maksu are not fighters . . . but did bring word . . . sent us to help . . . they acknowledge their debt . . . Shipworld's debt . . . for the destruction of the boojum . . ."

  "Well, then, where is this portal?" Li-Jared queried.

  Hroom fluttered. ". . . through that doorway . . ." Bandicut turned to look where the foreman-shadow seemed to be pointing, and saw a glimmer far off in the cavern wall. ". . . through and . . . straight across a field . . . you will find . . ."

  "What?" Bandicut prompted.

  ". . . those who can advise . . . cannot say you should use it . . . but may provide what you seek . . . if that is your choice . . ."

  Li-Jared's eyes brightened.

  Whreeekeek. ". . . and now I must . . . farewell . . ." The translator-stone struggled with his words. ". . . my good . . . good friends . . ." And Hroom rose and flew like a leaf into the n-space vanishing point, and was gone.

  "Craaay—"

  Bwong-ng.

  Bandicut blinked. "I'll be b'joog—"

  /// You know what? ///

  said the quarx, interrupting him.

  /Huh?/ he said, jarred by the interruption. The conversation with Hroom had driven his reunion with the quarx right out of his head. /What?/

  /// That was very interesting,

  what that shadowy person, Hroom, said. ///

  /Interesting?/ Bandicut asked. He assumed that the quarx had not meant to be ironic.

  /// Yes. I had a strong intuition,

  as he was talking about that portal.

  I don't even know the person.

  And yet, I had a feeling

  that he was talking about something

  that I'm supposed to do. ///

  Bandicut scowled, absorbing the quarx's words. /I see. And is this something that I'm supposed to do, too?/

  /// I don't know.

  I would presume so. ///

  Bandicut's scowl deepened. He watched Li-Jared hurry across the cavern to take a look at the doorway Hroom had pointed out. Antares was observing the proceedings in silence.

  "What can you see?" Ik called.

  Li-Jared peered at the glimmering exit from various angles. "Not much. But if it can get us out of here—"

  "Where to?" Bandicut asked.

  Li-Jared said something that Bandicut couldn't quite hear. It might have been, "I don't care."

  "We do not even know where we are now," Ik pointed out. "I would say, we should follow Hroom's suggestion. It is true he gave no hint that it would return us to Atrium City, if you wish to go there—" Ik glanced at Bandicut and Antares "—but we do not know how to return there, anyway. Unless the magellan-fish returns, but that seems unlikely."

  Bandicut frowned, considering Ik's words. He shivered with a sudden, fresh feeling of loneliness. Whatever semblance of an anchor he might have had in Atrium City was certainly gone. He wondered, wistfully, how far away his own spaceship was now, silent in a dock. Even that empty ship seemed like a long-lost world, not just in space but in time. He had passed through so many transitions . . . It was hard to feel connected to anything, or anyone, except his immediate companions. Ik. Li-Jared. The robots. He glanced at Antares, and found her gaze flicking from one person to the next, as if she too were trying to decide if she might fit in here. Or was that just his imagination?

  Her gaze caught his, and he felt a momentary spark of connection. "John Bandicut," she said, and her voice seemed to have a more resonant quality than before. What did that mean, in a Thespi?

  His throat lumped up a little. He knew nothing, really, of this person, or her species—not even what her facial expressions meant, or her intonations. Nevertheless, they had—whether by choice or circumstance—just been through a life and death struggle together. And her presence, her voice, had helped save his life.

  But what now?

  "You and your friends," she said. "You are speaking of leaving this world?"
/>   Bandicut opened his mouth, and found no words.

  "Perhaps," Ik noted.

  "Perhaps," Antares echoed, her throat stones flickering.

  "And you?" Bandicut asked.

  "I am at—something of a loss, actually." She ran her long fingers through her hair and glanced at Copernicus. "I must tell you—your norg has been a worthy helper and guide."

  Bandicut nodded. "And do you need to return to Atrium City now?"

  The golden rings of Antares' eyes glimmered, expanding and contracting. "I have no real need, no. I have a temporary residence there, but it is no home to me."

  "Ah," Bandicut said. "Then, do you want to leave Shipworld, too?"

  "I don't know," she whispered. "I don't even know why I am here. Why I—" she touched her throat, her stones "—was brought here. Why my life was spared, to come here."

  Bandicut blinked at that last, but sensed that this was not the time to ask. The immediate question was, did Antares want to accompany them to the portal, or through it? For that matter, did he want to go?

  Li-Jared called from the far wall. "This looks like a local transporter. At the very least, it should get us out of here, and to someplace where we can make decisions. Shall we go?"

  Ik agreed. "I am of a mind to take a look at this portal that Hroom spoke of."

  Bandicut glanced at his robots. Without further prompting, they said, "With you, Captain," and, "At your service, John Bandicut."

  He nodded, feeling the lump return to his throat. "Would you like to come with us, for a ways?" he asked Antares. "You might want to examine the portal, at least."

  Antares angled a gaze at Ik, who was stepping carefully across the broken, snow-covered rock toward Li-Jared and the doorway. She reached out and touched Copernicus. "I must think on this. But let us go see what there is to see. Would your company object?"

  "I hardly think—"

  "Come with us!" called Ik. "We are all—" rasp "—refugees here together."

  Antares touched her throat-stones and hissed softly—in laughter, Bandicut thought suddenly. "Perhaps I will consider joining you, then, John Bandicut. There is much I wish to learn. Perhaps we can learn together, for a time."

  Bandicut allowed himself a smile, and they set off to join the impatient Li-Jared.

  *

  The crevice in the wall sparkled with light. One after another, they stepped through. Bandicut shut his eyes, then laughed with relief to find himself standing with his companions at the edge of a huge meadow, more like a small plain. He blinked in the bright sunshine, and realized that it reminded him of the land he had traversed with Ik, shortly after his arrival in the interior of Shipworld.

  Ik shaded his eyes, surveying the land. He turned to Bandicut and rubbed his chest. "It looks familiar, does it not?" he said, as though he had read the human's thoughts.

  Bandicut nodded, glanced at the robots. "I'd ask you two for a sensor sweep, but somehow I'll bet you already know more about this place than we do."

  Copernicus and Napoleon seemed to exchange sensor-glances. After a moment, Copernicus drumtapped. "Captain, sir, we are no longer in a region where our information from the shadow-people applies. We are not sure we are on the same continent as Atrium City. We may have been transported out of the disaster zone."

  Antares squinted one eye at that.

  "Which way have we moved? Onward, or backward?"

  "Uncertain, Captain."

  "Well, whatever—I suggest we follow Hroom's advice and cross the field," said Li-Jared, with an impatient gesture toward a low ridge across the plain.

  They set out under the warm sun. The land was flat, dotted with bright purple wildflowers that grew in small clumps, scattered across the expanse of lush, thin-bladed grass. Bandicut found the walk restorative, after what he had just been through. Beside him, Antares strode with a smooth, strong gait, but did not engage much in conversation.

  The terrain was beautiful, if unspectacular. Flatleafed trees dotted the plain, but were thickest along the growing ridge of hills. The ridge drew slowly closer. They saw no indication of what they were looking for, so they simply walked in as straight a line as they could.

  "I hope Hroom was correct about the location of this portal," Ik murmured, lowering his sighting glasses, which had apparently revealed nothing to him. He rubbed his fingertips over his chest.

  "Indeed," said Li-Jared, as the others drew alongside him. He was frequently loping ahead, as if he couldn't stand their slow pace, then pausing to let them catch up.

  It took several hours, Bandicut guessed, to reach the opposite treeline. They walked back and forth along the trees, and a sometimes-exposed rock wall, searching for some indication of a portal. Finally, Ik suggested that they make a fire and rest. The day was growing late, and they could search again in the morning. It was not as if they were in a particular hurry, he pointed out.

  They gathered deadwood for a small blaze, and not long after flames began crackling up from the aromatic wood, the sun sank with surprising speed behind the hills. Apparently this place mimicked a world with a fast day-night cycle. Crouched around the fire, they took stock of their meager supplies, and sorted out what food they had to share.

  As they settled in to rest, there was little talk at first, even between Bandicut and Charlie. Everyone seemed occupied with their own thoughts about the day. Then Li-Jared began to sing a quiet chant, the words to which Bandicut couldn't make out, and Ik began to hrrm along with him, in a strangely harmonious murmur. After a time, they fell silent. Bandicut cleared his throat, wanting to say something, but not sure what.

  The Hraachee'an made a soft clicking sound, eyes sparkling across the fire. "We were just singing a bit of a long Karellian song that Li-Jared has tried to teach me."

  "Oh?" Bandicut said. "What's it about?"

  "As nearly as I can tell," Ik said, "it's about loss and reconciliation, about roads that never stop taking wrong, or at least unexpected, turns. About disappointment and surprises." He was silent a moment. "We didn't do much of what we hoped to do today, did we? All of our goals, all we hoped to learn . . ."

  "We only saved Shipworld," Li-Jared twanged. "Part of it, anyway." His eyes pulsed, then darkened. "That's not so bad, I guess. But we still haven't found what we wanted, have we?"

  Bandicut shook his head. He had the strange feeling that this scene had been played out before, between Ik and Li-Jared. He wondered if the disappointment had a familiar sting for them. "No," he murmured. "We haven't." He glanced at Antares, her face almost lost in shadow. His thoughts flickered to Julie, and Dakota, and Krackey, half a universe away; and despite the heartache of the memory, he felt an unexpected smile on his lips. "But I'm grateful for my friends," he murmured.

  "Indeed," said Ik, his voice rumbling low, almost out of hearing.

  "Indeed," echoed Antares, from the shadows.

  And no one spoke for a while after that.

  *

  Bandicut felt a strange sense of déjà vu, remembering the first night he had spent with Ik, tending their fire, awkwardly getting to know each other. Ik had settled now into a silent meditation, with firelight flickering on his still face, and Li-Jared was singing softly to himself, meeting no one's eyes. Bandicut wanted to ask Antares about herself, but she was sitting with head bowed, eyes closed, hair half hiding her face. He couldn't tell whether she was sleeping, or just lost in thought.

  /Charlie,/ he said finally. /This is one hell of a curious place you've brought me to./

  The quarx stirred restlessly.

  /// I brought you here?

  I don't remember doing that. ///

  /Well, not directly. It was Charlie-One and Charlie-Two who did that./

  /// Oh. And I am—? ///

  Bandicut had to think. /Charlie-Four./

  /// Mm. Well, krikey,

  I hope I'm not going to be blamed for

  everything my parents did. ///

  Bandicut chuckled. /Maybe not everything. But don't you quarx ca
rry some sort of, I don't know, collective conscience or something?/

  That evoked a moment of puzzled reflection from the quarx.

  /// You got me. ///

  /No offense, I mean./

  /// None taken.

  But you know, I do have this sense

  —search me if I know where it comes from—

  that we, I mean myselves and I,

  are supposed to be moving on.

  We always seem to be moving on.

  As if we have something we're supposed to do. ///

  /You mean, with me—or without me?/ Bandicut asked, with a pang.

  /// Who knows, really?

  It's not as if this is clear to me.

  I have the feeling it's a sort of . . .

  what's the word? ///

  /Mission? Quest? Cosmic journey?/

  /// Something like that. ///

  /Oh./ He'd meant it lightheartedly. Charlie hadn't.

  /// It might take me a while

  to figure out. But look— ///

  Bandicut waited.

  /// Well, about what we're doing next.

  You know, back there in the cavern,

  I had the sense that Hroom

  really, really meant for you to use this portal.

  If we can find it.

  I think he just didn't want

  to be pushy about suggesting it. ///

  /Yeah?/ Bandicut focused on the flames for a few moments, watching the firelight flicker off the still, metallic forms of the robots. /I'll keep that in mind./ He lay down then, curling against the relative softness of his backpack, and closed his eyes.

  *

  It might have been minutes or hours later, when Charlie woke him with a nudge.

  /// Don't look now, but we have company. ///

  He sat up groggily. He blinked at Ik, and realized that the Hraachee'an had his eyes open, but was sitting very still, watching something just outside their circle. /What is it?/ He squinted, trying to see by the dim glow of the fire's embers.