Gemma Naquist was doing the piloting and would remain on board the shuttle when it docked, while the others, led by Shontill, did the exploring.
The alien had achieved control over his emotions. Now he simply watched patiently as the shuttle drew up to the area he had directed it to then clanged softly into place, extensors bonding it fast to the octagonally shaped port. Quietly, the alien placed his helmet over his thick head, secured it in place, and double-checked the respirator equipment. He waited patiently for his companions to do the same.
“Allow me … to be the first … through the airlock … onto Frin’ral … material.”
The others put on their helmets, then gathered up the equipment selected for the mission: mainly remote sensor devices and hand weapons.
Laura watched quietly as Shontill took his place in the airlock. It was good that he was going first since the airlock could accommodate no other occupants with him inside.
Back in the Starbow, Captain Northern had filled in the rest of Shontill’s story, and Laura had to admit that if she were in the large alien’s place, she’d be damned grumpy too. Shontill had been one of the primary leaders of the Frin’ral Space Navy. When the aliens had encountered the Jaxdron, the leadership had split over what course to take. The more courageous, like Shontill, elected to take a military stand, ceding no more territory to the strange warlike aliens, refusing to give up the sacred space of Frin’ral birth. However, other, meeker elements of the leadership—mostly scientists—had decided to escape. Going elsewhere in the galaxy, they had argued, was unfeasible—the Jaxdron were sure to follow relentlessly. But recently a different dimension—not Underspace, but something much more skewed from galactic reality—had been penetrated and was being explored. A mass exodus of the battle-torn population would solve all their problems. A new life in this different dimension could be started!
But the more courageous of the Frin’ral voted to battle anyway, and were horribly defeated by the Jaxdron. When what was left of their once-noble fleet limped back home, they found that the exodus had already taken place, and they were abandoned.
Rather than be taken prisoner, most of Shontill’s comrades had taken their lives. Shontill had intended to do it as well but he was somehow rendered unconscious. He did not remember how he had been placed in a suspended animation chamber. Indeed, his memory of the whole matter was gone. Had he lost his nerve and hidden? Had he sought to save his own life, hoping that the future held the hope of reuniting with his people? Clearly, he was haunted concerning the matter.
Now, the alien apparently suffered from something akin to guilt and remorse, wishing he had destroyed himself all those centuries ago, yet driven by hatred of the Jaxdron and the desire to be reunited with his people: to assure them that he had not betrayed his trust, that he had fought nobly and fought nobly still.
No wonder he had been so excited at the prospect of checking this ship, Laura thought. It might either hold the pathway to Omega Space or give some kind of clue to producing a portal. At the very least, thought Laura, the place had this weird stuff attilium that Dr. Mish lusted after so much.
Captain Northern and Ratham Bey entered the airlock.
Laura turned to Gemma Naquist. Of all the crewmembers, she liked Gemma the best. Gemma’s friendly face and confident self-possession put Laura at ease, and Gemma seemed to genuinely like her. “So, how do you feel about getting stuck here on the shuttle, Gem?” Laura asked.
“Suits me just fine. I suppose I’d be even happier back on the Starbow. Just because I’m damned good on missions doesn’t mean I’m in love with danger. I guess that’s where you and I differ, Laura. You actually seem to relish the idea of risking your neck. Adrenaline rush? Something like that?”
“I don’t know,” Laura said, dropping her usual cool and snappy exterior. “I suppose I just was made to be this way by the Federation. Damn disturbing, that thought, but maybe now they regret it. Still, I don’t think they could have formed my essential talent.”
“You mean your impulsive intuition?”
“Yes, they say it borders on the psychic.”
“Whatever, it’s made you the top blip-ship pilot you are,” returned Gemma, double-checking the lock controls.
“Yeah, well, I’m not in the blip now and I’ve been damned impulsive, asking to come along on this expedition,” said Laura, a small hint of self-doubt creeping into her voice.
“Yes. Just why did you volunteer?”
Laura shrugged and grinned. “I guess that’s the problem with us impetuous sorts. We’re just victims of our whims.”
Gemma put her tongue in her cheek. “Uh-huh. And it wouldn’t have anything to do with being close to one Captain Tars Northern.”
Laura was speechless for a moment; a strange experience.
“Oh yes, I’ve seen little signs in your eyes when you look at him. I know the symptoms.”
“Midshipman, you just wash your brain out with hydrochloric acid!” Laura said.
A red light pinged on.
“I think it’s your turn, my dear. Don’t forget to seal that pressure suit of yours.”
Grumbling to herself, Laura clamped the bubbletop space helmet in place, then entered the repressurized airlock.
Near to Captain Tars Whacko Northern? Near a man who would as soon chug a bottle of brandy as whip out some nasty remark? The notion of her actually being interested in the bastard was absolutely absurd, she thought as the air was cycled out. Sure he was handsome, and not a little charismatic, not a little commanding in his presence. But she’d sooner get involved with a Denebian snakeman! Pah!
Whether it was this emotion or the excitement of the door peeling back that did it, she couldn’t be sure, but Laura could definitely feel the effects of the stimulant buried in her. Turned all the colors about her vivid, replacing her anger at Gemma’s remark with the sort of elation she felt when she jacked into her blip, assuming a second metal skin more fully in contact with the majesty of the stars.
Now, though, there were no stars, just three figures in pressure suits waiting for her against a backdrop of darkness and metal.
Her magnetic soles kept her from floating in the weightlessness as she made her way to them, clicking on one of the flashbeams in the shoulder of her suit, then her comband.
“So what’s the deal, gentlemen?” she asked.
Captain Northern replied, “Shontill is trying to recall the design of the interior of this kind of ship. He says it’s different from what he was used to … similar to some kind of hangar ship where smaller ships were dry-docked and repaired, which means there’s some large hollow part of it. He’s very excited—this apparently could be one of the portals his people used to enter the other dimension.”
“No kidding. Well, let’s go get a look at it, shall we?” she said, gesturing for Captain Northern to lead on.
“No, I think that’s Shontill’s job.”
Shontill nodded. “Yes, come … my friends. This way.” The alien jerkily struck off down a corridor. If there had been air in the chamber, his steps would have wrung bell-like in the curving passageway.
They walked for some minutes in silence, concentrating on staying alert to any possible danger. Some of the walls were slanted at odd angles and marked with murals of twisting and spiraling colors like the disciplined graffiti on a subway. Other walls had unreadable hieroglyphics. “Ladies Room,” Laura wondered aloud as her gloved fingers traced the etched outline of a series of curlicue characters.
“Why?” asked Northern. “You have to go?”
They met a cut de sac.
“Hey,” said Laura. “I thought Mr. Wonderful here knew his way.”
Shontill grunted. “I … regret … I at times … forget. I am not what … I once was …. I grow weak … in my separation.”
A strange kind of melancholy suffused the alien’s words, and Laur
a remembered a few cryptic passages in Northern’s explanation about the alien’s past. He’d implied that Shontill seemed to be deteriorating in body and spirit, despite the special environmental chamber Dr. Mish had prepared to the creature’s exact specifications. “Definitely not in top shape,” Laura had said. “Needs a lady Frin’ral, huh?” To which Northern had smiled devilishly, cocked his head at her, and responded, “Oh yes, we males throughout the universe, we think we need power and money and glory, but all we truly desire is the love of a good woman!” Mockingly. To which Laura had snorted with playful disgust and backed away from any possible funny stuff from Northern’s hands.
Now, in the shivery strangeness of the alien ship, Laura found herself feeling sorry for the alien, wishing him well, hoping Shontill found what he was looking for, just as she wished to find what she was seeking.
We’re all looking for something, she thought.
Still, there wasn’t much room for sympathy or feeling or thought apart from total awareness—alertness to the possibility of danger concealed within these unwinding alien corridors.
Shontill managed to avoid any more cul de sacs. “Yes,” he said, stopping and peering about him with his great, weird eyes. “Yes …. I recognize … this sort of ship … and I … was right.”
Ratham Bey looked up from his sensor board. “Captain, the attilium readings are going off the edge of the red … and we’re picking up evidences of broad spectrums of radiation activity, indicating some sort of conversion process in the center of this ship.”
Rathem Bey would know—he was the science officer under Dr. Mish, and had been trained well in these matters. His brownish skin gleamed with a patina of sweat in the light from the others’ beams.
“Looks like we’re headed the right way, then, Shontill. Let me report back to Midshipman Naquist.”
“Captain,” returned Bey, “this kind of radiation won’t hurt us with these suits we’ve got on, but they do block comband signals of all kinds. That’s why the sensors were blocked, sir. We’ll just have to remain incommunicado while we’re this deep into the ship.”
“Goddammit,” said Captain Northern, “that doesn’t make me feel real good about this, I’ll tell you.”
“I did not … promise you … safety,” said Shontill. “Come. The entrance … to the central compartment … is this way.”
“Getting clay feet, Northern?” Laura teased. Laura was up for anything, primed by adrenaline and other things—the past and future phased away here. She was strictly Now time, filled with luminous excitement.
Just what was inside this chamber, kicking up all this fuss?
“I just gab a lot,” Northern mumbled. “Don’t listen to me. I’m really as brave and valiant as starship captains come.” Laura could see his head, bathed in shadow beneath the bubble, smile and wink at her.
They continued up an elevated passageway ending at what was clearly a door. A large, oval door which was locked.
Shontill examined it carefully, first attempting to open it by pushing an array of buttons in a coded pattern, then using physical force. Neither way worked.
“Can you get me some kind of analysis reading on this thing, Ratham?” Northern said.
“Instruments are all shot, sir.”
“Well, then,” the captain said. “There’s nothing for it but brute force.” He drew his hand weapon.
“Do you think that’s advisable, sir?” asked Bey.
“Well, what else are we supposed to do?” He turned to the alien. “Is there another possibility of getting in, Shontill?”
The alien said, “If this entrance … is this way … then so are … the others.”
“Should we blast?”
“If you do not … Captain Northern … then I fear … that I would be … obliged to borrow … your weapon … and do it … myself.”
“In that case, might as well do this right. Laura, get your gun out. I think these boltlike things here are hinges. We can blast these, and the door should come off.”
Suddenly Laura was not so gung-ho. She realized that she was afraid. She wanted to simply turn around and run from there as fast as she could but she contained the urge. “My intuition is acting up, sir, and what it’s telling me isn’t good.”
“Look, you fickle female,” said Northern. “You were allowed to come along on the condition that you obeyed orders. Now get out that gun!”
Laura flashed him a glare, muttering under her breath. She definitely had a bad feeling about this, but her sworn loyalty to Captain Northern and her continued curiosity made her obey.
“Right. Now Shontill and Bey—stand out of the way. This door is going to be off in two shakes of a lamb’s tail, and maybe we’re actually going to get to the bottom of this blasted ultra-dimension business. Dr. Mish will be so pleased.”
He’s strangely excited, Laura thought, and not acting as cool as usual. What was it about this dimension that got everyone so hot and bothered, from her little brother to Dr. Mish? Northern was definitely not acting in an advisable fashion. Now it was his turn to be obsessive-compulsive.
She set her weapon to max and aimed at the hinge Northern had indicated.
“Now!” Northern said, louder than necessary.
Twin spurts of energy blasted into the bolts, easily blowing them off, leaving holes where they had been. The door rocked, then settled on supports, creating a partial opening.
“You think another blast is necessary, Shontill?” asked Northern.
“No,” replied the alien.
They let the door cool for a moment, then Shontill easily ripped it off, allowing it to hang to One side like a flap of metallic skin.
The next room was partially obscured by a screen of sparkling haze. That the chamber was huge, cavernous, was easy to ascertain.
Then their eyes adjusted and Laura could make out that this was no mere repair dock. She couldn’t help but gasp.
“Well, folks,” said Captain Northern. “I do believe we’ve located something here.”
Chapter Eight
The strident colors of the scene before them were particularly shocking after the black and white of the slanting corridors. For a long moment, motionless and silent save for the rasping of their breathing, transmitted through the combands, they could only stare at the sight before them.
The scene was like something from Dante’s Inferno superimposed over his Paradise, filmed in Maxitech Depth Color. Only it wasn’t a movie, it was real: a huge portal, simultaneously a pit and entrance, ridged with boiling, curling gases, studded with rainbow helixes on its sides like cilia in an esophagus. Debris was caught on the thorny helixes, a mish-mash of cables, structural beams, and translucent film wavering languidly in an invisible current. The tunnel seemed to go on forever, sparkling and misty, crackling here and there with power surges. Something like stars glittered at the opposite end, alien yet somehow inviting. The whole thing seemed to throb with a coruscating energy, a patient slow maelstrom of mystery, awaiting victims.
“I have seen some weird things in my life,” said Captain Northern, “but none tops this!”
“Stand away!” said Shontill. “I go … I go!” He made toward the entryway to the portal.
“Wait a moment, Shontill,” said Northern, attempting to restrain him. “How do you know for sure this is what you’re looking for? You’re going to just dive on down there in your pressure suit? Let’s check this out a moment.”
Shontill stopped reluctantly, his large eyes gazing with almost human longing down into the abyss far deeper than the bottom of the starship.
Laura, meantime, still felt foreboding stirring deep inside her, tugging her away from the edge of the precipice even as something exterior pulled her toward it. “Damn, Northern, all I gotta say is that I really don’t like this!”
“Doesn’t look real inviting does it?” the captain
said.
“What are you getting on your sensor board, Ratham?”
“So much data, it’s still working on it, sir,” said the lieutenant. “But so far we’re reading the edges almost solidly plated with attilium. For proper analysis we’re going to have to plug the recordings into our main computer when we get back.”
“Let me take a look at that thing,” Laura said, holding out her hands. “I’ve had sensor-board training and can read a lot of things before they start showing up.”
Northern nodded to the lieutenant, who gave up the device. Laura glanced at the liquid diamond displays, the graphic readouts were moving at a pace beyond normal vision. Almost immediately she detected the something amiss that her gut feeling had warned her about.
“Captain,” she cried. “We’ve got to get out of here!”
“What are you talking about?” a baffled Northern asked, and like a bit of punctuation, the first tremor hit.
The force knocked them all off balance, tearing them from their magnetic moorings. A rough swirl of bright orange and red flashed through the portal like a stylized flame—and Laura could feel a force like strong gravity sucking them toward the portal.
Ratham Bey, closest to the doorway, was yanked through.
“Help!” he called, eyes alive with terror as the invisible force dragged him into the pit.
Shontill reached for him, but it was too late. Whatever force had caught the lieutenant was stronger out near the middle of the portal. It dragged him down, screaming, with surprising quickness, until Bey was reduced to speck size, then simply winked away, his scream lingering in everyone’s ears.
“We’ve started some kind of chain reaction!” Laura managed to screech before the next tremor hit. Everything loose in the passageway fluttered as though struck by a gust of wind.
“I must go!” cried Shontill, surging toward the opening to follow Bey. But the door that they had blasted open suddenly rocked off its hinges and swept past them towards the portal. Its edge slammed Shontill hard, his harsh grunt echoing through Laura’s helmet as he floated upward, unconscious.
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