The Chaos Chronicles

by Jeffrey A. Carver

  /// Are you . . . okay . . . John? ///

  /Yes,/ he whispered. And gradually his vision and his thoughts cleared. And slowly he comprehended what the Neri had done. The breathing gear had only a small reservoir of air; it drew fresh oxygen from the water, and flushed out the carbon dioxide. The only way they could revive him was to get him back into the water, fast.

  Someone was floating in front of him, peering worriedly. Finally he made out who it was—L'Kell. And beside him, also slowly recovering, was Ik.

  /// That was close, John.

  We couldn't have gone much longer. ///

  She was right. But why hadn't his body's own warning systems alerted him to the danger, before the critical point? The stones, at least.

  /// I think we were all

  too focused on the healing. ///

  /We all?/

  /// The stones included.

  They lost track. ///

  /I'll be damned,/ Bandicut whispered. He shook inside his helmet and gave a little laugh. /The stones make mistakes. I can't tell you how much that cheers me./

  /// ??? ///

  /You'll either understand it, Charlie, or you won't./ Peering at his friends, Bandicut slowly raised his right hand and held up a circled thumb and forefinger, first to L'Kell, then to Ik. The standard diver's signal: OK / OK?

  His two friends looked at him in apparent puzzlement as he wondered: might the stones have passed on this bit of linguistic obscurity in their exchanges?

  Ik finally raised his right hand, attempting to reproduce the gesture. He had trouble deciding which of his two thumbs to close with which finger, and finally presented Bandicut with a double-O, and a single unopposed finger sticking up. Bandicut nodded and looked at L'Kell. The Neri was trying, too, but the webbing got in the way, and his forefinger didn't seem jointed quite right for the gesture. Nevertheless, the intent was clear. Bandicut nodded.

  "Are you recovered?" he heard in a scratchy voice from L'Kell. He had forgotten about the comm in the helmet.

  "I'm okay. But we can't breathe this air any longer."

  "We know," L'Kell said. "Let's swim. There will be more air in the corridor, where there's a moving current." They kicked downward, making their way slowly through the flooded gloom.

  Their swim was interrupted by a rasping outcry and sounds of a commotion. Bandicut paused, turning in confusion; he couldn't tell where it was happening, but several Neri streaked past them, on their way out of the compartment. "What is it?" he asked.

  L'Kell shot ahead briefly, then returned, looking agitated. "The lander prisoner!" he cried. "It escaped while we were distracted over the air! It's fled out into the ship."

  Ik and Bandicut exchanged glances. Ik's voice rasped incomprehensibly; his comm didn't seem to be working. Bandicut wondered what Ik knew about the prisoner. That must have been the creature in the face mask. L'Kell was trying to get them to move faster—as if they would be of any use in trying to capture an escaped lander. They did their best, but in the end they simply limped along behind L'Kell.

  They reentered the long corridor and followed it around several bends. The lander was long gone, but according to Neri who were swarming about, it apparently had fled further into the ship, rather than trying to get out past the Neri guards. Perhaps it knew it had no chance that way. Perhaps it was suffering from air problems itself and was delirious.

  Bandicut felt a twinge of sympathy for the being. Even if it got away, where would it go? It was unlikely that its people would be waiting directly outside to rescue it—and could it even survive the decompression after so long at this depth? Quite possibly it was acting in blind desperation, with little or no real hope.

  The layout of the ship remained unfathomable to Bandicut; he had seen nothing, really, except winding and turning corridors. But one thing he had noticed was that there were curves bending in all three dimensions in the corridors, which suggested that it was designed for either zero gravity or variable gravity. If that was the case, what was a spaceship—starship?—doing on the bottom of the ocean? What had brought it here, and was there any relationship between it and the Neri, or the landers?

  /// The stones are pretty much with you

  on this one. ///

  /Meaning what? They know what it's all about, but don't want to tell me?/

  Char seemed puzzled by his tone.

  /// I don't think they know the answers.

  But they suspect some of the same connections

  that you do. ///

  /And what connections do I suspect?/

  /// The ship. And the landers.

  Probably not the Neri. ///

  Bandicut frowned, peering down the tomblike corridor. A pair of Neri were down at the far end, exploring with their lamps. L'Kell and the others nearby were looking forward and back now, uncertain which way to go. Bandicut had a sudden thought. If he were the lander, an air-breather in a foreign environment, trying to get away from pursuing fishmen, where would he go?

  /// I don't know.

  Is there an answer to that? ///

  Bandicut turned to L'Kell. "I'm betting he won't try to get out right away. He's been down too long for easy decompression. If it were me, I'd try to find an air chamber I could hide in until my own people came back. That's if he's in his right mind."

  L'Kell looked puzzled. "Why wouldn't he be?"

  "He might be injured, his air might be bad, who knows?" Bandicut gestured. "I was pretty frantic when I started to run out of air. And if that's the case, we have to find him fast or he may die." He thought desperately. "Are there other air chambers? Places where he might hide?"

  "It's a large ship," L'Kell said. "We've only explored a fraction of it."

  Bandicut chafed. "But isn't there—"

  A Neri sped into view from over his shoulder. "The lander has been spotted upcurrent, moving deeper and higher! Two swimmers have gone after him."

  "Toward the room of madness?" cried a Neri named S'Cali, with alarm in his voice.

  "Room of madness? What is that? Is that the reactor? A place where you think there's radiation?" Bandicut turned around, his own fear growing.

  "I don't think so," said L'Kell. "At least, there's no warmth in the current there, and no glow. We don't know what it is. But—"

  "What?" asked Bandicut.

  "Two of our people ventured there when we first started exploring—and it drove them—" rasp "—mad. Not like the radiation sickness. It was their minds. They died—crying and babbling." L'Kell looked around among his companions. "Why would the lander go there?"

  "Maybe he doesn't know," said Bandicut. "Maybe he has no idea, or he's gone crazy. But if he's trying to hide, and that's a place your people are staying away from—"

  "We'd have to swim in after him," S'Cali said, and there was fear in his voice.

  Bandicut drew a breath. "Can you take me that way?"

  *

  As they approached the expanding end of the corridor, where the room of madness was said to be, the Neri grew increasingly apprehensive. Bandicut met Ik's gaze flickering through the hood, and could practically read his thoughts: John Bandicut, do nothing foolish.

  /// That is good advice.

  Why are we doing this? ///

  /I'm not sure. A hunch. He might have gone somewhere else, and maybe they'll find him. But if he's gone to this room, Char, we've got to go after him. That lander might be crucial. The first chance for contact, for communication. We can't let him go. And we might save his life./

  The quarx hesitated a moment.

  /// Okay.

  I just wanted to be sure you had a reason. ///

  /I'll need you and the stones to help me./ Bandicut took several deep breaths. /They're sure they can stop radiation with that forcefield?/

  /// For a time.

  It might put a drain on their reserves.

  And they might not be able to stop everything. ///

  /Okay. And the rest?/

  /// Well, we don't know what to e
xpect,

  do we? ///

  /No. But if this is a starship—well, I have some memories of "spatial transformation" on the way from my home star out to Shipworld. It was really, really weird—but the stones helped pull me through it. But the Neri, now—it would be even more alien to them—and without stones, it might well kill them./

  /// You're making a pretty big guess here. ///

  /I know. You ready if we have to go in?/

  The quarx said nothing. She was ready.

  Chapter 20

  The Madness Room

  TWO NERI WERE waiting near the entrance to the room, and they both looked nervous as hell. They reported that they had lost sight of the lander, but thought it had come this way.

  "You don't know if it's in there?" asked L'Kell.

  "We think it is. We saw something move in there. But we didn't want to go in," murmured one of the swimmers. "We didn't know what might happen—"

  "Very well," said L'Kell, with a glance at Bandicut, who thought, /This is it, Char./ With L'Kell, Ik, and S'Cali, Bandicut moved cautiously past the swimmer and peered into the chamber opening.

  The room was oval and about the size of a small gymnasium, and completely flooded. It was hard to see clearly, with only the Neri lanterns for light—and one other, tiny light source visible on the far side of the room. The lander, with a stolen Neri lantern? If so, it wasn't moving. Bandicut and his friends hovered just outside the entrance, taking a careful look. In the center of the egg-shaped room, a dark mass hung suspended like a petrified yolk; there was nothing but water where the white would have been. Bandicut could not tell, in the dim light, what supported the yolk. But there were definitely invisible forces active in the room. Even at the entrance, he could feel an indescribable tingle somewhere at the edges of his senses. He couldn't put a name to it, or even say which sense was affected, but it made him jittery in a physical way, like the effects of too much caffeine.

  He took a slow breath to steady himself, and surveyed the perimeter of the room—the inner surface of the eggshell. It was not smooth, he realized, but festooned with spiky, spiral-shaped structures that looked almost like antennas. Was the whole thing some kind of space-time transformer? It was possible he was completely wrong; but it seemed to him that there was more visual distortion than could be accounted for by the water alone.

  /// I feel resonances— ///

  /Of—?/

  /// Ancient memories . . . transformations . . .

  long voyages, before I knew you. ///

  Bandicut held his breath. /So you think—?/

  /// Your guess may be right. ///

  With a grunt, Bandicut turned in the water to face the others. "I'll go in. I think the quarx and I can handle it."

  L'Kell's huge eyes peered at him. "That would be very dangerous. I question whether—"

  "I know, but I think it's worth the risk. L'Kell, if that's the lander over there, I might be able to bring it out, save it." He turned to Ik. "Can we use your rope as a lifeline?"

  Ik's voice was weak and distorted without a comm. "Hrahh." He began stretching out the rope, attaching it to Bandicut.

  When the rope was secure around his waist, Bandicut called to L'Kell. "I can't swim very fast, so I need all of you to give me a good, solid push, straight toward that light. Okay?"

  "John Bandicut, I don't know—"

  "Let's just do it, okay?"

  "Very well," said L'Kell, waving to S'Cali and another Neri to help. "Be careful, my friend."

  Bandicut nodded, double-checked the rope, then caught Ik's eye and raised a circled thumb and forefinger. The Hraachee'an returned the gesture, and Bandicut turned to face the open chamber. He stretched his body so that he was floating horizontally, arms straight ahead. His heart pounded. "Ready!"

  The Neri, with a long thrust, propelled him forward. "Let go!" he cried, then realized that they already had. He held himself rigid, stretching his momentum as he sailed through the water, across the open space, to the left of center. The tingling grew stronger around his head and shoulders and waist. As he felt his momentum failing, he gave a breaststroke kick and raised his head to check his position.

  At least, that was what he'd intended. But instead of confirming his long, smooth glide, he found himself tumbling. /Wait—that's not right—/ Where he'd expected to see the central mass, he glimpsed a spinning array of spines, rapidly drawing closer. With a muffled cry, he tried to tuck, to change direction.

  /// Don't make any sudden movements! ///

  the quarx cried, applying just enough inhibition to slow his actions.

  /What are you doing? We're going to hit—/

  /// I don't think so!

  It's an illusion!

  Try turning your head—slowly. ///

  He swallowed hard, turning. A spinning dizziness came over him, the world flipping . . . flipping again. Something was disrupting his equilibrium. He caught a sharp breath, reaching for his flight skills in spatial disorientation: When feelings contradict reality, ignore the seat-of-the-pants, suppress the instinct, follow the instruments. But there were no instruments here—just vision, and Ik's rope to pull him back. Ik's rope! He felt it slithering loose from his waist, and grabbed for it—too late. Gone! The spines and spirals were growing before his eyes. It was like silence-fugue, bad—but it wasn't silence-fugue, it was real.

  /Charlie, help me!/ he whispered.

  /// Working—the stones— ///

  The answer was breathless, but the quarx was true to her word, and an instant later, he saw a spidery grid superimposed over his vision. /What's that—?/

  /// The stones are

  tracking your course changes.

  I'll interpret— ///

  He tried to answer, but his breath went out and he couldn't do anything except let go and allow the knowledge of the stones to flow through the quarx into his muscles.

  He rotated slightly and stroked once, hard, with his arms. The deadly outer shell of the room ballooned and distorted, and opened up like a billowing curtain. In the center of the opening was the central mass, the egg yolk quivering like gelatin in zero gravity. A wave of dizziness passed through him. And along with it a feeling of another kind, a feeling that something or someone was nearby.

  The lander?

  The feeling was indistinct, reminding him of the neurolink. But there was a sense of disconnectedness, as if a gulf of space, or wavelength, or phase separated the someone-else from him, like a silent wall. He probed the surroundings with his thoughts, as he might have probed a neuro, trying to find the source of the feeling.

  He felt a stirring in response, but couldn't identify it as animate or inanimate. He was losing his visual connection to this place, as if the dark mass had softened and surrounded him; he felt as if he were probing, falling through a wall of smoke, or something wispier yet firmer, light as smoke but solid, like an aerogel. He felt a boundary layer between where he was and where the something-else was. There was nothing humanlike about it; but it was aware of him, reacting to him, making ripples through some level of space-time to which he was sensitive.

  /// I feel a sense of something long . . .

  very long. ///

  /Long, like in local terms?/

  /// Long, like . . . cosmic.

  Like a thread, or a tunnel,

  stretching to infinity. ///

  Bandicut shivered, suddenly wishing that he had not come here, had not made this connection. He felt utterly impotent, and ignorant, in the face of these forces. What did he think he was going to do, remake them? He thought he knew what this was now, thought it was a kind of reactor—or no, not really a reactor, it was a—

  /// Stardrive, ///

  the quarx murmured.

  /Yes,/ he answered. And maybe it was disabled, or broken, maybe it no longer had the power to move a spacecraft—but it was not dead, not yet. He vividly remembered "threading space" with Charlie-Two aboard Neptune Explorer, and though it had seemed mind-bogglingly strange at
the time, he suspected that this thing was more exotic, perhaps more like the "spatial transformation" that had propelled him from the solar system to the cold darkness of intergalactic space.

  /// Possibly. Possibly true.

  But . . . ///

  The quarx was uncertain, and he knew she was trying to piece together his old memories with her old memories, trying to weave in whatever understanding the stones were able to give her.

  /// The tunnel I feel here is more like . . .

  the star-spanner, I think.

  Not driving you, exactly, but firing you

  through the light-years. ///

  Char's words gave him a sudden, cold fear. /This thing is a star-spanner?/ Was it about to hurl him across interstellar space, ripping him from his friends and his last vestiges of—?

  /// No, I don't think so.

  It doesn't seem on the verge of that.

  But if it is a star-spanner,

  the stones think it's not from Shipworld. ///

  /Then—/

  /// And here's the other thing:

  you're not actually in its presence—not yet.

  It's not here with you. ///

  Not in its presence? Bandicut thought. Then whose presence was he in? He felt himself rotating slowly in the water, and had a vision of the room's core, the central mass, curved around him like a doughnut. There was some serious bending of space-time happening here, and he didn't know whether to be fascinated or terrified.

  /// John, I find this very confusing—

  and yes, terrifying.

  I don't want to stay here any longer than we have to. ///

  Bandicut peered around anxiously, remembering with a jolt that he had come in here looking for the escaped lander. But his eyes were wavering, and he wasn't sure he would recognize the lander even if he saw it.

  /// John, whatever we're directly in the presence of

  is connected to something far more powerful,

  and dangerous. ///

  Bandicut drew a breath of dank air—and suddenly knew what the quarx was referring to. /The Maw of the Abyss? Are you telling me that this spaceship is connected to whatever's down there in the bottom of the ocean?/ He reeled at the thought.