The Chaos Chronicles

by Jeffrey A. Carver

  "NO!" Bandicut bellowed. He tore free from the landers holding him and ran to the side of the ship. Leaning out, he saw Harding bobbing unconscious in the waves twenty or thirty feet below.

  "Who told you to do that?" shouted the Astari leader.

  "Let the amphibians have him back!" someone answered.

  The cry was joined by others, and while the landers were shouting at each other, Harding slipped beneath the waves.

  Bandicut acted without thinking, only dimly aware of L'Kell doing the same. He climbed up, then jumped from the railing—L'Kell airborne at his side—and crashed into the sea with a tremendous impact, and sank with a rush of bubbles. His shoulder blazed with pain as he kicked back to the surface, then treaded water, looking around for Harding. He gasped, choking as a wave hit him in the face; he caught half a breath and went under again, peering around in the alien salt sea, the water stinging his eyes. He caught sight of L'Kell struggling beneath the waves—the impact from the jump had hurt him, too—but L'Kell had a hand on a shadowy form. He had Harding, and was straining to bring him back up.

  Bandicut kicked forward, lungs burning. Together, they broke the surface with Harding. Bandicut gasped for air, fighting to get Harding's head above water. L'Kell pushed up from below, and Bandicut kicked with all his strength. Something hit him in the head, stunning him. It took a couple of breaths to realize what it was—a line, thrown from the ship. He caught it in his right hand, and got his left arm around Harding and pulled him into a cross-chest carry. Then something else hit the water, a log-shaped float, and he managed to get that under his arm. L'Kell broke the surface, looked around, and dove back under to continue supporting them from beneath.

  Soon there were Astari in the water, assisting, and the three of them were being pulled back to the ship.

  *

  Bandicut coughed, shivering, and bent over the still form of Harding. They were once more surrounded by landers, but this time at a more respectful distance. Bandicut's hand was on the Astari's chest, and Charlene was reaching out, searching . . . but there was no life left in his friend, except some residual energy in the daughter-stones. Even they seemed to have shut down.

  /// I'm sorry, John, truly sorry.

  He probably died when he hit the water. ///

  /He knew he was going to die. I think he knew it, when we made that last contact./ With a sigh of exhaustion, Bandicut rocked back from the body of his friend. Such a short time together, but still a friend. Sharer of stones.

  *We grieve.*

  He was startled to hear the voice of the stones, but after that, they were silent. He looked up at L'Kell, who had shaken himself up pretty badly in the jump into the water. And Li-Jared, crouching in bewilderment and grief, Li-Jared whose daughter-stones were Harding's now, and who so obviously could not comprehend what had driven Harding's own people to kill him. "I'm sorry, Li-Jared," Bandicut whispered, touching the Karellian's arm.

  Li-Jared looked startled by the touch. His eyes pulsed; the electric-blue, horizontal slit of his pupils widened for a moment, then contracted again. "So—" bwong "—mokin' stupid. So mokin' fokin' stupid."

  "Yes," Bandicut said. He gazed at Harding's still face and wondered, was there still life in those stones? Some of Harding's life, or at least his knowledge?

  /// Maybe. Maybe.

  I would say that it's Li-Jared's move. ///

  Li-Jared seemed to have the same thought. He reached out a wiry, black-fingered hand and almost touched the lightless stones in the dead Astari's neck. Almost. Whether it was out of concern for what the landers might think, or what their taboos about death might be, Bandicut couldn't tell. But Li-Jared stopped with his fingers poised a few centimeters above the dark stones.

  "You . . . risked your lives trying to save this one."

  Bandicut turned to face the Astari leader. "Yes," he said simply.

  "Why?"

  Bandicut straightened painfully, and rose to his feet. "Because he was our friend. And—because he was trying to bring an important message to you."

  "What message?"

  Bandicut suddenly felt weary to the depths of his bones. If they hadn't gotten the point yet . . . He cast a glance out over the water, and noted that the flashing from the Maw had subsided somewhat. "He was trying to make peace. Between your people and the Neri." Bandicut nodded in the direction of L'Kell, and S'Cali and Jontil, crouching close to L'Kell. "But your people didn't want to hear it, I guess."

  "Neri," repeated the Astari. "Amphibs, we call them. We have known about them—a little, anyway. But your kind we have never seen before. Who are you? And your friends?"

  "We are not," Bandicut said, "from your world." He drew a breath. "I am John Bandicut, human of a world called Earth." He introduced the others. By the time he was finished, he seemed to have caught the Astari leader's interest.

  "And still you risked your life to save this one, Harding."

  "I told you why."

  "Yes. But you have not told us what you were planning to offer us, or ask of us. And what these stones have to do with it." The leader spoke as though it was now irrelevant to him how the other Astari had reacted to the stones. Having watched their passion and anger play itself out, would he now make a rational decision on their behalf?

  "I will answer all of your questions if I can. But first, may I ask—how shall I address you? Are you the leader of this . . . ship?"

  "You may call me Morado. I am the—" krrrll "—commander of the salvage operation."

  "Morado," Bandicut said. "Well, then." He rubbed his wrist, thinking. "The stones allow those of us who are not of this world to survive in a place that is alien to us. And they allow us to talk to you. They are tools of negotiation."

  "Yes? Negotiation?" Morado angled his head slightly. "And if I thought they were demon eyes, and ordered my people to take them out of your body and destroy them?"

  Bandicut stared at him for a moment. "I would not recommend that," he said dryly.

  Morado said nothing, but gestured to two of the Astari nearby. One of them grabbed Bandicut's left wrist; the other drew a blade nearly as long as Bandicut's forearm. Bandicut grunted, and tried to pull his arm away. The Astari's grip tightened. The knife-point gleamed as it poked at his wrist near the black stone.

  /// Brace yourself. ///

  A pulse of light shot from the stone, and with a whump, a forcefield flared out momentarily, hurling both landers back into the crowd. The concussion made Bandicut's ears ring. A smell of ozone lingered in the air.

  Morado watched in stunned silence.

  Bandicut stared coldly at the two Astari who had assaulted him, then turned slowly to Morado. "As I was saying," he began. He paused, seeing a movement out of the corner of his eye.

  Li-Jared bent to scoop up two marble-sized balls of light, which were suddenly floating above Harding's body. "Here," Li-Jared said. "Perhaps you would like to inspect them." He handed them to Morado.

  The Astari leader's eyes seemed to contract with suspicion, but he took the stones from Li-Jared. He held them carefully in what served for a palm of his hand, where they shrank slightly and glowed like illuminated gems. "How do they change like that?" he rasped.

  Bandicut and Li-Jared looked at each other. "We don't really know," Bandicut said finally. "We did not make them, and we don't wholly control them. But they don't control us, either." He glanced down at Harding's body, with a pang of sadness. "They tried to save his life, right to the end." Bandicut sighed heavily, and felt a touch on his arm.

  It was Antares, who stepped forward to Morado. "May I say something?" Her words were translated more clearly this time, perhaps because she was calmer.

  Morado's ringed irises seemed to contract and expand for a moment as he studied her. He looked like a cartoonish nightmare of a fox, gazing at his prey. But Antares remained unfearful. "Were you also a friend of Harding?" Morado said finally.

  "I did not know him as these two knew him—through the connection of the stones," An
tares replied, "but I spoke with him, and listened to him, and yes, he was my friend. I know how uncertain you are of those stones that you hold. Uncertain whether to trust them or fear them."

  Morado's head tipped slightly back, and his lips parted slightly. "And you wish to tell me to trust them?" he asked, raising the stones to eye level.

  "No," said Antares, which seemed to startle him a little. "I wish to tell you that they are a very great treasure, and that Li-Jared's gift of them to Harding was a very great gift. And whether or not you trust them, you would be wise to respect them."

  Morado glanced at Bandicut—perhaps thinking of the demonstration his stones had put on—then back at Harding's stones. But before he could answer Antares, there was another flash of light in the sea off the starboard side of the ship— then a rumble, vibrating through the deck. Morado's hands closed over the stones as he shouted, "Crew, to your stations! Secure for high seas! Communications, contact port and warn of possible—" hssssk "—crash-waves! Deck monitors, take this crewman's body below." He watched for a moment, then gestured to Antares and Bandicut and Li-Jared to step closer. When L'Kell joined them, he stared at the Neri for a moment, but did not ask him to leave. "What do the stones have to do with this?" he demanded.

  Bandicut raised his voice to be heard over the noise of the crew. "Nothing!" He raised his hands helplessly, and finally gestured toward the undersea flashes. "Morado, we know these quakes and disruptions threaten your people on the coast. But they also threaten the Neri, even more. There is a thing down there that is causing it. But we hope, and Harding hoped, that a way can be found to stop it. That's why he risked his life hurrying to the surface!" Bandicut pointed to the stones that Morado held. "Those stones, and ours, might be able to help. But the Neri also require the help of your people. They need your cooperation. Materials. Machines."

  "Materials. Machines," Morado repeated, his gaze flicking from one to another. "Can I use these stones to understand what you speak of?"

  "I don't know if that's for us to say." Bandicut glanced at Li-Jared for affirmation.

  "We cannot tell the stones whom to serve," Li-Jared said. "They decide that for themselves." His eyes dimmed for a moment, in thought. "I believe that they wish now to return to me."

  "To you?" Morado said, in a voice that seemed to suggest disbelief.

  "Yes. I am sorry."

  Morado stared at the stones for a moment. "I do not think—" he began, and then hesitated and opened his hand to look at the stones again. "I sense that there is—" He thought a moment longer, and finally said, "It is a pity. However, perhaps I will trust Harding in this, and honor his wishes. What is it that you want exactly?" As he spoke, he held the stones out to Li-Jared. When the Karellian touched them, they seemed to brighten, flickering; and then a sudden wave of light enveloped Li-Jared's hands and arms, streaming up his chest. For an instant, they all stood watching in amazement.

  The effect quickly subsided—but as Morado released the stones into the Karellian's hands, the wave of light suddenly reversed, and arced across to Morado's hands. He grunted harshly, but looked even more surprised when the two stones flew up and sank glowing into his neck.

  *

  Antares felt a flash of confusion, and then understood. The stones had been waiting to see if Morado would willingly give them up. Once he had passed that test, they went willingly to him. But the surprise of the transfer had shaken him; she could feel it. She focused, trying to reach out to the Astari leader.

  This was a dangerous moment. If Morado felt threatened, he might turn on them. If the other Astari thought he was threatened—or worse, that his integrity was compromised—they might turn on him as they had on Harding. She focused her powers on just one thing: projecting calm, projecting fearlessness. Fearlessness and calm.

  She felt the tension in Morado's thoughts and emotions as he struggled to cope with this new force in his body and his mind. He had to come quickly to some understanding or accommodation; he had to decide whether he was facing friends or foes. She could not sense his leaning; she guessed that he was teetering on the edge—infuriated by the intrusion into his privacy, the privacy of his own mind, and at the same time astonished by the newfound sense of power and knowledge, or the possibility of knowledge.

  Fearlessness, she thought. Calm.

  Something twinged in the Astari's emotional aura: a determination being made. A decision. Morado looked at her, looked at the others. "I . . . see . . ." he said, forcing his words. "I see. There is . . . much need. But you have given this to me, yes? These stones? They have so much . . . I cannot see it all, but I sense . . ." He blinked, and gave up trying to put it into words.

  For a moment, there was only silence. Then Li-Jared said, "They are yours. To use, to keep. As long as they themselves approve." Li-Jared's words, too, seemed halting. Antares suddenly realized that he was also trying to assimilate something new. The wave of light that had enveloped him: had that been a massive contact between his stones and the stones that had shared Harding's thoughts?

  The deck shook with a sharper rumble from below. Antares glanced out over the sea in alarm. The greenish light deep beneath the waves was growing in intensity. What was the Maw doing? What was happening on the seabed, and in the Neri city?

  "We must get our divers up," Morado said suddenly, his lips pulled back from his teeth in a grimace. "Our salvage operation—and your people—" he looked at L'Kell as he said that "—may be in danger." He called to an aide. "Find out what's happening below! And get a message off to port: Eruption worsening. Prepare for extremely high seas."

  "I must contact our people," L'Kell said urgently, breaking out of the group into a sudden pacing walk. He held up his hands and spread his webbed fingers for emphasis. "They will almost certainly need our help, if this grows worse." He strode to the rail and gazed out worriedly over the sea, then strode back.

  Morado gazed at him. "I understand," he said. "You may go whenever you wish." L'Kell made a clucking sound and waved S'Cali and Jontil toward the subs. "But wait a moment, please. You came to ask our cooperation."

  L'Kell paused, turning his large Neri eyes upon the Astari. "Yes," he said.

  Morado closed his eyes, opened them. "Ordinarily, I would have to seek—" haaa "—approval from my superiors ashore. But there is no time. I will try to help you, for now at least. Perhaps these—" he touched the stones in his neck "—may serve as payment for what you wish to remove from our ship."

  Antares felt Bandicut's heart leap a little, and she let her own breath sigh out in hope.

  "But I must know," Morado continued, "just what it is that you need for your effort. The stones have some understanding, but it is incomplete. It may be possible—if we survive this eruption—to supply some of the materials you need without having to destroy valuable machinery to extract them. But I must ask that you consider the safety of our people in your efforts to master this thing."

  Morado turned to look out at the pulsating light in the sea. "But if you can find a way to subdue this terrible thing, then we might well find a way to work together, your people and mine."

  Chapter 30

  The Regathering

  AS L'KELL'S SUB descended back through the depths, the light dwindled and finally faded altogether. Bandicut and his companions were quiet, but L'Kell was quietest of all. Perhaps he was worrying about S'Cali and Jontil, who had stopped at the salvage site to contact the Neri still inside—this time with Astari cooperation. But Bandicut guessed that L'Kell was mostly trying to absorb the connection he had made with Morado before their departure. The two had talked briefly but intensely, their stones flickering and flaring, just before the Neri and his companions had climbed into the sub.

  L'Kell muttered something that Bandicut didn't quite catch, and he had to ask the Neri to repeat it. "I said I'd like for our cities to rise into the sun again one day," L'Kell said, adjusting the exterior lights.

  "Eh?" said Bandicut.

  L'Kell suddenly looked a
t him as if they were having a casual, late-night conversation under one of the big domes. Maybe, with all that was weighing on him, he needed casual conversation. "Parts of our cities used to rise and fall, you know, on long anchor tethers, moving much closer to the surface than they do now. Our people used to see the sunlight now and again, and weren't so shy of the surface. We also benefited from much larger populations of fishes around us."

  "Was this in the recent past? What happened?"

  "No, it was before my time. Our people grew wary of the landers—wary and frightened, I think—even before there was conflict." L'Kell looked slightly embarrassed; his eyes shifted back and forth from Bandicut to the seascape gliding beneath the sub. "We began to work harder to hide ourselves, to be unknown to the landers. The Astari, I mean. I think we felt more protected, hunkered close to the seafloor—and I suppose closer to the factory."

  "Even with the factory not working?"

  L'Kell did not answer at once. When he finally did, he seemed to change the subject. "You know, we Neri are a part of the sea, and the sea a part of us. Not just in life. When we die, our spirits return to the sea—are rejoined to it, and become a part of it forever." He paused, adjusting the sub's course. "It has seemed to me that the greater our danger and desperation, the more we want to be not just in the sea, but with the sea. In some strange way, I think, the deeper we have moved our cities, the more closely connected we have felt with our—" Krrrlll. The stones seemed to have trouble, and he tried rephrasing. Khhresst. "With our God," Bandicut heard finally. "Factory or no. This was before the factory had finally failed, but it doesn't really matter. We might be in greater danger now, with all that threatens us, but we are closer to something we long for and need." He turned his dark gaze toward Bandicut. "I do not claim that any of this is completely logical."

  Bandicut nodded without answering. He wasn't about to criticize the Neri. But it did seem a terrible shame that in seeking safety in the depths, or even some mystical connection, they had cut themselves off from the world of sunlight. Then again, of course, if the undersea cities had been detectable by the Astari diving forces . . .