Eye of the Gazelle

by Marcia Tucker

  “Story, we’re… spaced… but there’s air here?” Cory waved her free hand at the green spirals that accompanied her voice. “But I can’t cept you and we can’t think at each other?”

  *

  Elsewhere, the Pelan Thho had become aware of the unusual shift in dimensional positioning of Vekta Rentclifv's offspring, whom she had idly been observing. Curhef did not have to dump them into what Vekta calls Gamma Universe, she mused dispassionately.

  She was, of course, already aware of the true nature of “Polluxanvega” as well as its companion entity which the twins had not as yet met. Their situation did not concern her at all, though. She was concentrating on training Vekta Rentclifv in the Attitudes of Consciousness. Her only interest was that the one of the two entities who were interfering with the children — again, that noisome concept — had powers of dimensional travel, though not, of course, the Attitudes. As the children were not in physical distress, their location did not concern her. What a bother, she thought, and continued to observe while her student recovered from his latest “training” session.

  Those two entities had already been dismissed from consideration for the Attitudes, despite both being roughly what the Dracons would label as Level 8 High telepaths.

  About the cybernetic mind, Thho had no concerns whatsoever, keeping it within the boy's mind for now. It did not hold much interest to her, unlike the other cybernism.

  *

  “Cory?” Story fought back a wave of panic. “Cory! Prater's still with me... Cory?” Qe was disoriented for a moment, by the wave of emotional emanations now pouring from qer twin who made no effort to emshield her fury.

  Cory Rentclifv was angry, mad, sore as hell, and utterly inconsolable. She felt betrayed, hoodwinked, tricked. “Polly!” she called out to the nothingness surrounding them. “Or should I call you by your true name, Slimy the Slime-mold? You have incurred the wrath of the United Star Communities and will answer directly to our father and the Perseus Defense Agency, not to mention the Starguards of the Perseus Guard!”

  No reply after the vitriolic indictment. “Slimy” was either not listening or absent, or did not deign to reply. She rather thought it was the latter. “Bah! You slimy, smurmy, weaselly—”

  “Cut it out, Cor,” Story admonished her, trying to think. Qer sister's verbal spewage had resulted in a violent wave of angry colors that were frankly nauseating. “Don't move too much or speak aloud. The sounds and colors might confuse us. Remember Bapa told us about this? Use cepting and menttransing only.”

  Perception. It was then that the twins took time to cept around their non-environment. But there was nothing to cept but each other, floating in nothingness. There was some sort of gravity because they were suspended in air, not free-falling, or at least they assumed it was normal air. They were breathing normally at least, and the air was as warm as in the room they just left. But there was no floor, walls, or ceiling, or even an obvious light source nearby save what was produced when they moved around.

  The nothingness — as far as they could cept — extended for about half a kilometer around them in all directions. Were they in some kind of bubble in space? Outside the sphere would be the cold, hard, near vacuum of space. Stars — they observed these now. In one direction they could distinguish an orange giant star, and in the direct opposite, much closer, a somewhat flattened blue-white star. By far these were the most prominent objects in their visible universe.

  Pollux... and Vega? they wondered. It made sense — Polly's home hangout — “the place between Pollux and Vega.” But why here?

  Twin looked at twin, and for the first time, both felt the uncomfortable twinge of fear. They'd been abducted by they knew not what, abandoned in a featureless spheroid of air apparently in mid-space in what they guessed was Hendor Universe. Why?

  Then Story — Cory was not over her snit yet — thought to wonder, This is all wrong. That there should be such a being as Polly is crazy enough. That he should be able to travel to another universe mentally — no way! Why kidnap us? Why keep us here in this nothing place, suspended? How can Prater be still Linked in with me though his unit is a universe away?

  Qe shared his thoughts with qer sister, whose anger was slowly giving way to trepidation. For the next bit of time — they knew not how long — the twins cried a little, raged again in frustration, held each other in fear, and finally drifted apart, hands still linked, emotionally drained.

  They wondered how long it would take before their absence was discovered, and what anyone could do to find them. Starguard Litzer would be checking on them, but the Andromedea was due back from Sanz and maybe she wouldn't have time to do that. Whomever their father was sending — for real, since Polly had clearly lied to them about that — might not seek them out right away. It could be a whole day.

  What if we have to go to the bathroom?

  The Andromedea was the only ship that could reach them in Hendor Universe because of the Starlock. Major Tauscher would surely insist on looking for them. Were they important enough for a Perseus Defender starship to be sent on a rescue mission? Scared and worried, the twins even reverted to their space opera role-playing game, finding a refuge for their sanity in the Far Stars.

  Story began to have another concern after a while — hours? Qe was afraid to mention to qer sister, however, that Prater's mental presence in qer mind seemed to be diminishing. The Link seemed as strong as ever, but Prater itself, severed too long from qer components, was evidently fading.

  Hang in there, Prater, Story thought to the ebbing mind within qers.

  Hmm? Yes, this unit will endeavor to, the cybernism sleepily replied.

  Story was startled by the hint of pain in the cybernetic voice. Again voiding qer inmost thoughts from Prater, qe wondered what would happen to the cybernism's mind if this continued much longer. Will Prater die? Can it? What will happen to me if it does?

  “Have you noticed,” Cory spoke up suddenly, “that you're not in the least hungry? And I don't need to pee, I think.”

  “Lucky, I guess,” her twin replied, still preoccupied with qer musings about Prater.

  “Do you need to pee?”

  “What?” She had qer attention finally.

  “I haven't felt the need to, and I bet you haven't either, but we've been out here for hours. It’s been hours, right? I'm not even thirsty! Slimy must be able to suppress those needs in us. Convenient.”

  Story groaned out of frustration, producing a visual bloom in fuchsia and deep green. “Maybe this is really a dream...”

  “That would be nice, wouldn't it?” came an unexpected voice that sounded not at all pleasant.

  “You!” Cory mentally spat, frustrated that the voice came without a direction or physical presence. They hadn't, after all, cepted the muddie anywhere around them. But the voice was definitely their old friend, Polluxanvega.

  “Me,” returned the entity, all friendliness gone, replaced by a subtle nastiness. “Like my holding tank?”

  Story quickly cut off the launch of qer sister's forthcoming tirade. “Why, Polly? Why have you brought us here? And for how long?”

  There was no immediate reply, so Cory went ahead with her invective, verbally and mentally. The colorful displays were wild and disconcerting, but did not divert her from venting her spleen.

  No reply to that, either. Cory ceased her ranting, frustrated and sick at heart. Story squeezed her hand in encouragement.

  “Why, Vestor Rentclifv?” came the mental voice of the creature at last, ignoring the girl's emotional outburst. “To have you out of the way, of course.”

  The deadly calm and oily satisfaction in the being's mental voice was enough to change Cory's mind about another round of mental yelling. She exchanged a horrified look with her qother. “Out of the way of... what?” she ventured.

  Another pause. Story wondered if the creature was torn between a desire to keep them in the dark about his plans and a need to brag about h
is scheme. Perhaps that need to brag could be used to get some information they could use from the entity.

  “So you cannot interfere.”

  “Interfere with what?” Story pressed on.

  “With what is going on at Gozgazel. Fortunately, you have no idea what is going on there. And now it does not matter because you are here in this universe and not in what you call Alpha.”

  Gozgazel! A wave of fear coursed through them as they recalled their father's supposed danger there. Appalled, it was their turn to hesitate to reply as they fought to autoemform.

  It seems strange, a weary Prater commented in the interim, that Polluxanvega—

  “Slimy,” corrected Story automatically. They were through with cute names for the evil entity.

  Slimy, yes. That Slimy thinks that you can have any effect on what happens at Gozgazel which is some twenty-two light years away.

  “At least we have him talking now,” Story replied calmly. Qe hid from the cybernism the sick fear qe shared with qer twin, the fear not just from their own quandary, but at the weakness of Prater's mind within qers. Qe exchanged a glance with qer sister, who nodded back, a tinkling sound accompanying their head movements.

  “So,” Story tried again, addressing the entity, “what's happening at Gozgazel? And what is your part in it? If we can't affect it, it won't hurt if you tell us, right?”

  They sensed a mental snort of derision from somewhere. “My part? I am not doing a thing. We did not create the situation there; we are merely taking advantage of it.”

  “You and Scorpa!” the twins said together.

  “Yes. Now, I plan to keep you here for a few weeks by your time reckoning, that should be long enough. I will sustain all your basic functions to an adequate level. Then, when it is too late to change anything, I may send you back.”

  Frowning, the twins conferred privately. “How could we possibly change anything? Change what?” Cory inquired of her twin.

  Story shook qer head, bewildered. “Can this thing actually think we have the mental power to autoport some twenty-two light years to Gozgazel?” Qe was hoping for an opinion from Prater, but the cybernism was ominously silent.

  Cory laughed outright at the ridiculous notion “Oh, yeah, right! At least twenty-five light years. Why not make it a thousand? That would be so ultra! But, really, I think this entity is completely demented.”

  “He can read us,” Story cautioned her.

  “Whatever,” Cory retorted.

  It is clearly impossible, Prater spoke up, Story sharing the thought with qer sister, but no matter how demented this creature may be, it has immense powers which must be respected. It seems to believe that you have this ability.

  “Why?” Cory snapped. “Because our father had our telepathic potential developed?”

  That is not known, the cybernism replied wearily. This time Cory caught a hint of pain from the Crater 0002. She glanced quickly at her qother who would not meet her eyes. Frustrated, she looked toward the orange giant that held their temporary home a whole different universe away. Gozgazel was pretty close in comparison.

  “Someone needs to find us,” Cory said to her qother earnestly.

  *

  The other entity — Cel, shielded from the children at the moment — was equally unhappy. Unbelievable, they thought sourly. Dumped in here for hours then these immature forms stuck in here, too! They did not have physical form, but their energy signature was as trapped as the twins were. “Really? How long are you going to keep this up?”

  There was no answer.

  Wow...

  Ignoring the flailing children for the moment, Cel cepted around, deciphering their location. They, too, had spotted the two distinctive stars, Pollux where they’d come from and the oblate spheroid, the blue one. The distance to Vega was only about five light years from where they actually were. They had picked some information on the USC out of the mind of the cybernism on the Andromedea. Vega Community was located on the fifth planet, Vriesia.

  They extended his perception to it, noting a water world with oceans over much of its surface. There were habitable continents in both the north and south hemispheres where the Vriesian population lived. But much of an immense equatorial continental belt of lush tropical jungles was uninhabitable, the radiation too intense. Even so, there was life — and a possible place to which he could escape. If he could escape Curhef's damn bubble field.

  Cepting further, Cel narrowed their view down to an area featuring a clearing — a possible point for autoporting. It was a lush scene: pools of iridescence, and mammoth tree ferns, the leaves of which were each as long as a Human was tall. Clinging, bluish parasitic vines were tangled up in other plants, choking some of them out. The hard, blue-white ellipsoid of Vega hung just above the tops of the tree ferns. There were overlapping shadows of both the ferns and three black obelisks that stood at three corners of the clearing. The obelisks had carvings on them. So there was intelligent life here, too.

  That damn Vega… the shape means it’s a rapid rotator. Apparently the people can withstand the radiation at the poles, but that equatorial area. Hmm.

  They idly observed the children again.

  *

  Both twins carefully autoemformed so their captor would not read any stirrings of hope. Story had an idea. “So, Slimy, how long do you expect all this to take?”

  There was a long, cold moment of silence, then a terse response. “The bastard told you,” came another mental voice. Scorpa. “It will take until you can no longer affect what is going on at Gozgazel.”

  The children stiffened. Cory shot back, “And what is going on at Gozgazel? You're Scorpa, right?”

  No reply. “I wonder if those two even know,” Cory menttransed to her qother. “I'm beginning to think they're setting new standards of stupidity.”

  Story nodded in agreement, then pressed on. “Can't you tell us more, Scorpa? Furthermore, where do you fit in? Slimy is clearly power hungry! What do you get out of this? Are you from Hendor, too?”

  “I am not from Hendor.” There was, unless they imagined it, the slightest hint of doubt in the mental voice of the energy creature.

  They pounced on it. “From Alpha? Can you travel between universes?”

  A slight hesitation. “No to both questions.” In fact, Cel was wondering what universe they really were in. Gamma? It's not my native universe, and not Beta.

  “So, you're trapped, too?”

  “In a manner of speaking... yes.”

  “Do you have a gender? Slimy calls you a 'he.' Are you male?”

  “Eh? Whatever, fine. Sure.”

  “SILENCE!” Slimy stormed abruptly, sending a slicing mental bolt with the command. The twins cried out from the sudden pain, tears starting from their eyes.

  Silence commenced.

  *

  Cel spoke privately to his erstwhile partner. “What did you do that for?” He was already upset that Curhef had ripped him away from the Andromedea and deposited his energy-form within this bubble in space, then added the two Dracon children.

  The other retorted contemptuously, “Stupid organic things! The young ones are the worst. Too unfocused, too undisciplined. Now, the Taree—”

  “Oh, really!” Cel threw back derisively. “You can't believe they're any different!”

  “I got Korgovax to sing my song easily enough, didn't I? And you! Why do you bother to answer their questions?”

  Cel bristled inwardly, but was careful to calm down and appear impassive before the Hendorian. “Because they're bored... because I'm bored. By the way, what's going on at Gozgazel? Did you cause that Eye thing?”

  “Of course not. I still have my hopes about the Taree, anyway. That Tesirax — I could mold him for my purposes. I don't need to. I'll wait until Korgovax has secured the secret to the Andromedea's new star drive. Then he will come to me, here!”

  Now that the qild had voiced what Cel hadn't dared to contemplat
e — that he was as much a pawn as the Rentclifv children, and not so much a partner — a sinking feeling began to rise up in him. I can see why the children call him Slimy. He actually believes the Tarees will be his allies. Even though they do not know of his existence! Slaves is more like it, which is what I'm starting to feel like. Curhef thinks he's going to defeat the larger United Star Communities though I really doubt that the Taree Empire, being far smaller, would even be interested in such a conquest. From what I've seen of them, they're not risk takers. The two federations seem happy to each ignore the other.

  And what of me? How did I get into this? Cel did remember belatedly; there had been a little struggle for power in this own dimension, and yet another misunderstanding for which he seemed to be famous. And Cel did secretly like to be a pest, but in light of his own uncertainty about this “partnership,” this game was no longer amusing. In mattporting the other entity away from his home universe, Curhef had offered a way out of Cel's dilemma in return for distracting the telepaths at Gozgazel. It had worked; Curhef had managed to get control of the Taree Imperial Khagan Korgovax. But now...

  Curhef didn’t even need me on that ship. He did not tell me he was going to bring me here. Bastard hasn't done a thing for me, not really, Cel mused. Does he intend to? Or will he send me back to my own universe? He thought he already knew the answers: no and possibly yes, which chilled him. No way I can go back there!

  Then Cel observed the two children again. The energy entity did not feel compassion for them, for he wasn't fully capable of that kind of feeling toward another being. But he did feel something, if only that the anguish of the children reminded him of his own plight. They were High telepaths and he supposed that Curhef was right in thinking that they had the potential to traverse between universes. Having the potential was hardly the same as being able to use it, but for Cel, there was now more hope in that potential than relying on Curhef. Maybe, just maybe...

  Both energy creatures were abruptly startled into sharp awareness when, unlooked for, the Perseus Defender Andromedea suddenly appeared in Gamma Universe.