by Daniel Huber
"A cherub? Mimic? 'Tis my turn to laugh!" Echo swirled her hand in the air, creating a tiny air funnel of blue dust and sending it smattering into the side of Mimic's face. "A cherub of some fiendish demon, perhaps, she!"
The fighting began. It was the same fighting that Quade had heard in his head, which further leant him to think his insanity true. But seeing it played out in real life was a truly bizarre experience. They became a blur of blue and gold as they squealed and shrieked, a twirling cyclone of tiny arms and heads, reminding Quade of the fluttering motion butterflies made as they mated, except…violent and very loud. They suddenly bounced apart, each one shooting to one side of the room and brushing the offending dust of the other off her skin. They slowly floated back together, scowling as they did, and Quade just stood, speechless, then he walked past the sulking creatures and into his bedroom. Once at his desk, he took out some old discs and dropped them in his reader, and he noticed that they had followed him.
"Alright then. Unidentifiable beings of the violent variety. Messengers of the gods no less! Add that to my list of validating insanity! So then,
what message have the gods for me today?" The creatures, Echo and Mimic, floated to the screen of his reader, appearing right at eye level, and Quade found himself strangely fascinated with the oddity of their presence. "Maybe you'll tell me that I'm really not insane, that all these things that have been happening to me are for a reason, a truly higher purpose?" His words were dry and sarcastic as he reached a hand toward the two small beings that sat perched before him. It was as if feeling their substance would somehow make them real, no matter how invasive that might be. The gold one floated backward as she saw what he meant to do, but the blue one watched calmly, and when his hand came within touching distance, she bounced her feet off his index finger and floated backward, a light trail of her dust raining on his skin. He looked at his hand, rubbed the dust around between his thumb and forefinger, shaking his head slowly. How could he deny what he saw on his own flesh, what he could feel with his own touch? Quade looked back to the two emissaries who stood together again, floating just above the viewscreen. They watched him in silence, letting him come to terms with this realization in his own time. They were real. Truly, absolutely real.
"Why is this happening to me?" he whispered.
"It is your destiny, Quade," said Echo gently. "The fate of all you know lies in the carrying out of this plan."
"This plan you speak of…what plan? A plan, a quest! Why do you use such cryptic words?"
"It is the plan the gods set forth so many ages before, to fix the flaw that lives to consume all, to defeat the evil that moves transcendentally, which goes galaxy to galaxy devouring and destroying. Those Chosen must band together, and only then can there be success. But your time is short and days are now numbered. You have much to do, Quade. And many things to seek."
"Seek?" Quade threw his hands in the air. "What more to seek with the things you've told me? Dreams of P'cadia…how did you know of my dreams? And on a wild whim I followed your words, took heed of your advice, and found out someone else does know of this place…this place that doesn't exist! And so it is Clea, what luck. She'd have no part of this, wouldn't even listen when I tried to speak with her."
"'Tis typical," said Mimic with a shrug and she looked at her hands, seeming disinterested.
"But she did say something." He paused, remembered that morning in the hangar. "Something about a place, like she knew about a whole other part of this tale you continue to torment me with. When I mentioned P'cadia, it was like she knew I needed to go there, just like in the dreams. As though she had some knowledge that I don't even know about yet." Quade analyzed his words as he said them out loud, as if making sense of them for the first time.
Both emissaries looked up with surprise at this revelation, and Mimic advanced on him slowly as she began to speak again.
"What did she say, Quade? Must we remind you continually of the relevance of all that is told to you?"
"She spoke of a place, a place with shimmering seas and liquid sun." Something tickled at the back of his thoughts as he said this aloud, but was too hazy to come into view. "She called it a riddle, but somehow I knew it had a deeper meaning than just an ambiguous play on words. But I don't know how to go about this, how to go about what she said I must do! Seek the Avè…indeed! I could no more seek the Avè than I could seek the very gods themselves! And how would Clea know where to find him? And through a riddle no less!"
"Ah, finally we make some progress." Mimic crossed her arms over her chest.
"Tis the next thing that you should seek"
"More foreshadowing, more doom and more confusion! If this is truly real then how do I know if the Avè will even allow me an audience with him? No common man can seek the Avè. And how would I even know how to find him from the wisps of information that I've been told?"
"You will know, Quade." Echo spoke again, floating forward and shouldering Mimic out of his line of vision. "You will know, but perhaps not tonight. Sleep now and come morn there will be a revelation…of sorts."
"It occurs to me," Quade said, thinking aloud, wondering why he hadn't considered the idea before. "Why should I be so trusting of your words? Maybe I should talk to the Keystone when he returns."
"No!" Both emissaries shouted it in unison, and it startled and intrigued Quade.
"Why not?" He remembered how he'd given in to their bidding earlier, as they'd flitted about Keystone Aushlin's head. "He's the Keystone of Bethel. He may have some advice that would prove useful. And at least he is a man who is in the position to seek the Avè, if that is what I'm truly meant to do."
"No Quade," Echo was insistent. "You must not speak of this to anyone except your Chosen. To mention it to others puts them in mortal danger. We have told you this before! You must seek the Chosen, and seek them carefully. Do not spread knowledge of this to others."
"Well, maybe he is one of the Chosen. What better man to offer salvation to our galaxy than him? And how can I know if he is without asking?"
Mimic spoke, her voice uncharacteristically gentle. "Alas, not the Keystone, Quade. That much we can tell you."
"Well then, who? Guide me to them, if that's truly your purpose. Guide me to the Chosen and I'll take it from there."
"We do not know who they are Quade, that is for you to find. But we do know who they are not, and we will tell you again…not the Keystone."
"Sleep now, Quade and we shall be here when you seek our guidance. Until then, rest. For rest will be a luxury that you have little time to indulge in from here forth."
Quade scowled. "How am I to know it isn't you who I should be rising against? You who are the ones who bring this destruction you foretell, and the end of all things? How am I to know that you aren't demons polluting my mind, that you yourselves aren't part of the evil that you keep alluding to?" Quade stood abruptly, paced across the room. "In the middle of space I get attacked by some…entity! And then you show up. Walking from the castle tonight I feel the same sickness as then, the burning of my nerves, and here you are now! Coincidence?" He reeled around just in time to see the two figures begin to spin slowly.
"It is not we who are the evil, Quade," said Echo as she spun, a twisting funnel of her blue dust enveloping her as she did. "But the evil is here, it has arrived." Mimic began her slow twirl as well, fading as she spoke.
"This evil, always the evil!" Quade said. "Does this evil have a name?"
"The evil does have a name Quade," Mimic said, her voice fading from reality to a sound inside his mind. "The evil is called the SanFear."
In an instant, they'd vanished, leaving Quade wondering, as usual, if they'd actually been there at all. He flipped off his reader, pulled off his boots and fell into his bed without undressing. In the darkness, he thought on everything, on the perfect simplicity of the night out with Trina, on the doom he felt whenever the emissaries appeared, and foremost, on the sense of sickness he'd felt when he was near the
castle. As he rolled to his side, he wished for the sanctum of dreamless sleep that he'd had as he slept next to Trina the night before. The nightmares and the visions only came to him in his own bed or when he was on his ship, but never when he was with Trina. Did his calm and his ease with her run so deep as to remedy his dreamtime imbalance? He liked the idea that perhaps it did.
CHAPTER 13
It had been twenty minutes since Duplicity had dropped from the Tal/Den nexus, and a quiet anticipation filled the cockpit of the ship. What had been just a tiny beige ball on the long-range viewers was now taking shape as a planet, its dusty, pale color beginning to reveal the presence of desert terrain, marbled here and there by thin lines of blue water. The foreboding aura of Tal-Min Vista was apparent well before any ship came into range of actually entering orbit around it, and Clea knew that at any moment they would be hailed by one of the strategically placed security remotes. She glanced over the display panel, watched the sweeping light of the short-range scanners, which showed no activity in the area aside from planetary satellites. Clea knew that didn't matter, though. The remotes were so small they could easily hide behind anything, and relay their information back to the planetary defenses. It was only a matter of time now, before they were seen. And then the real fun would begin.
Clea smiled to herself and glanced around the cockpit at her crew. Gannet, who'd been with her from the start stared fixedly at the control panel, analyzing the final system check of the holo-distorter. Krisel spoke in a low voice to Delora, who had only been with them for a year, explaining the readouts and how the illusionary system worked off of the sensory bypass. Clea's gaze passed over the panel, which stretched from one end of the cockpit to the other. At a glance it might seem impossible to understand, all the glowing screens and gauges, the dual holographic projection viewers that showed what an opposing ship would see, the track balls which controlled the attitude and pitch. Clea understood every part of it, could pilot the ship by herself and even work its evasive false projection system if only she had another pair of hands. This was her ship, her crew, her life. My life, she thought to herself and a thrill rose within her as she looked back up to the forward viewers, where Tal-Min was closing fast. "Your favorite little danger zone," she heard Quade's voice in her mind and she would have laughed to herself over his words, but then she remembered the result of that conversation, and her face grew drawn and angry.
"Do you know anything about a place called P'cadia?"
Ire filled Clea's soul and she clenched her fists together to keep them from shaking as nervous anxiety came to the surface of her emotions. How did Quade know about P'cadia, and from a dream, yet! How long ago had Avalon told her the secret riddle about this hidden place? Years and years ago, when she was a wide-eyed child. Avalon had told her many things, but none that carried the weight of importance as the secret of P'cadia, and how it tied in with her destiny of the Chosen in the grand scheme of things.
Clea shook her head and sat up straight in her chair. This is my destiny, she told herself, looking over her ship's control panel again. I make my own destiny! Since she was seventeen and her parents left Bethel to roam freely on their recreation ship, she'd worked for this, struggled and finagled her way along the underbelly of the galaxy, managing to keep her smuggling work life separate from her home life on Bethel. She could've had it easy had she opted to travel with her parents, hosting gambling tournaments and distributing booth keys for Vicarious Life. But Clea still shuddered to think of an existence surrounded by addicted Venrey and wealthy, drunken, drifters that would look at her lecherously and attempt to charm her, as they often had on the rare occasions when she had visited her parents as an adult. Money and power were abundant on a ship like her parents', but those who took part in it had always been a vile lot in Clea's eyes. The empty, fierce, vexation of the older Venrey that abounded, and the rich, frivolous men and women that lavished thousands of chid for a weekend of Vicarious Life seemed distasteful and sad to her."Ever searching a distraction," Avalon had always said about those addicted to Vicarious Life, "but never searching their soul." The last time she'd visited she swore would be her last time ever. Let them come back to Bethel, she'd told herself. Because, like Quade, she'd opted to stay on the planet when her parents left the year she was of consent, like Quade-
Clea's thoughts were interrupted by the shrill screech of a warning hail. She was glad for the interruption of Tal-Min's Defense Central, and was further pleased when the identification stats of the guard who hailed her read across the screen.
"Warning alert: this vessel has been identified as the cargo ship Duplicity." It was a standard, automated voice. "You are about to enter Tal-Min Vista's restricted airspace. Retreat immediately or your ship will be arrested, and the contents evaluated as stated in Tal-Min's landing regulation guideline. You have sixty seconds to comply."
Clea looked to Gannet and smiled, and motioned with her fingers for him to slow the ship to a near-halt. She pushed a lever on the panel, requesting two-way visual communication, and leaned back in her chair when the screen above the viewport shimmered on.
"Hello Kendrick," she said to the guard on the screen.
"Clea Colletta," he replied with a shake of his head. "I thought that name Duplicity sounded familiar. Do we really have to go over the regulations again?"
"No, I'm familiar with the regulations," she said, quirking her mouth into a smile. "I just thought that maybe by now we could skip the formalities and save me some time."
"Outpost, Clea," Kendrick replied, his narrow eyes narrowing even further. "All cargo goes to the outpost first for evaluation, no exceptions!"
"Come now, Kendrick, it's water, it's always water, and yet you always make me go through this. Haven't I been here enough times to build a reputation with you on this?"
"If you came every day the laws still wouldn't change, Clea. Not for you or anyone else, now go! Your sixty seconds are almost up!"
"Have you ever considered a little vacation, Kendrick?" she asked, looking at her timer. Fifteen seconds, fourteen, thirteen… "Someone like you might really enjoy a little stint of Vicarious Life." From her pocket she pulled a stack of cards, and she looked at them casually.
"That's not a bribe I hear, is it?" came a threatening voice. Seven, six, five…
"A bribe? How insulting," Clea sat up, stowing the cards back in her pocket and reaching for the communication lever as she passed a signal to Gannet to turn the ship around. "It might've been a gift but now you've lost your opportunity. Goodbye, Kendrick." She cut the communication as he started to answer, and the ship banked hard to starboard. Two, one…
The warning light faded as the ship headed in the direction of Tal-Min's outpost. She watched the virtual display of what the security central's sensors would read, judging their position carefully. Never taking her eyes off that display, she whispered a command to Gannet.
"Now!"
At her word, Gannet bypassed the power to auxiliary for a tense five seconds, and the lights in the cockpit dimmed as the ship's secondary systems kicked in, then shielded themselves from sensor scans. The crossover was complete and the fluctuation only minor, not enough to cause suspicion even if they were under close watch. The lights fluttered back to normal in the cockpit, and the second virtual display began to read activity. On the left readout was what the planet's sensors were reading. On the right, what was actually happening.
A holographic projection of the ship appeared, from sensor scans, to be heading on a direct course for Tal-Min's outpost. The ship itself however, was following the original course it had been on, directly into orbit of the planet. Tal-Min's defense system was entirely based on sensor scans and not visual scans, so they wouldn't have to be concerned with shrouding their physical appearance on their way in. Once they got within the atmosphere and closer to the planet surface though, that would change quickly.
"Projection of Duplicity on course for Tal-Min's outpost, ETA ninety two minutes at current spee
d." Clea smiled at Gannet's formality. She could see the stats for herself at a glance, but he always felt compelled to announce them aloud. He had once been helmsman of an exploration vessel after all, and old habits die hard. She glanced at the sensor display, saw at least half a dozen defense ships in the area, but disregarded them, since they were too far for visual contact, and any readings they would get on her even if they could find her now would be merely shadows.
"Load exterior veil, Gannet." Clea adjusted a few levers, commanding the dorsal stabilizers to fold under, the vertical ones to flatten and retract. Fins, Clea had always called this disguise, because she thought it made the ship look like a little fish. Piloting Duplicity with its stabilizers at diminished capacity was a little more tricky, but the ship looked a lot more like a Tal-Min vessel to the naked eye as they approached the planet.
"Veil loaded and ready at your prompt, Clea."
Clea increased the acceleration and adjusting their trajectory toward the coordinates on the planet that Ryder had supplied her with. Now safe from the planetary sensors, they could prepare to land.
"Now, Gannet!"
As they traveled within the planet's atmosphere, the outer hull of the ship became shrouded in a disguise - a veil, as it were - that offered the appearance of a native ship of Tal-Min Vista. Through holographic projections, Duplicity was now of no interest to anyone on the ground who might glimpse up to see it, since it would have by anyone's judgment, gotten past the tight security outside of the planet's orbit, and now, with its false veil, looked like it belonged there anyway. It was a finely-tuned and impressive tool of disguise, and had served Clea well over the years for slipping in unnoticed to many restricted and forbidden places.
"How do we look, Delora?" Clea glanced over to where Delora was monitoring the sensors of both Duplicities, the real, and the projected.
"Looks good, Clea. I don't think Gannet really even needs me here to monitor him, he's so good at controlling that image." Gannet smiled but said nothing, his full concentration on navigating their false shadow on its bogus course. The projection had to be piloted as if it were a ship commanded from a remote, and it was essential that it didn't deviate from its heading, or worse, travel through random space debris, especially since they were likely being monitored by Tal-Min's Defense Central. Gannet and Delora would have to remain on board to continue this part of the evasion, while Clea and Krisel delivered Ryder's cargo.