by Aer-ki Jyr
“She’s not as naïve as you think,” Riax finally interrupted. “But you’re right. I’m not completely ignorant of such emotions. I can feel them in others, I just can’t reciprocate. She understands that. She just doesn’t care.”
“Are there any bonds you can form?”
Riax frowned. “Many. We are friends after all. That’s not a term Humans throw around easily. Nor do I let very many people in my head.”
“You needed to,” Ella differed.
“I said I trust you, and I meant it. Don’t underestimate the value there.”
“I don’t. But even after being inside your head, I’m still trying to size you up and failing. You’re so many different people all at the same time.”
Riax laughed. “No, you’ve just never been around Humans before. I’ve known Cres for a long time, which is why it’s easy for me to get a read on you.”
“Still . . . if I may?”
“If I consider you a friend, never ask for permission again. Just tell me what you think whenever you like, no protocol or politeness required.”
“I get the feeling that you’re still not yourself. That you’re holding back and alternating between different personas as a shield.”
Riax glanced at the floor, considering that. “I wouldn’t go that far, but I still have unfinished business with that remnant. Once it’s gone and I can relax, then I’ll probably find a lot of other things out of balance that can be corrected. I’m as much me now as I can manage,” he said apologetically.
“It wasn’t a complaint, just an observation.”
Riax nodded, then pushed himself off the wall and headed for the door. “Come on. Time for some real food.”
IT TOOK FIFTEEN days for the jumpship to reach Illora, located in the unremarkable Sarne System. There was a single giant white star at system’s center with three moonless planets in fairly close orbit. The inner two were barren, but inhabited nonetheless. The third and outermost world was Illora, which stood out in stark contrast to its rocky brothers. The planet was covered in a smattering of white clouds over blue ocean, with only a few specs of green land dotting the surface.
More visible were the hundred plus defense stations in orbit, each half the size of a jumpship and comprised mainly of weapons, shield generators, and energy cells. Spread out amongst the stations were numerous other orbital habitats ranging from refueling stations to full blown shipyards. Traffic around the planet was heavy, but organized into neat spacelanes.
The cruiser Riax was on was given clearance to bypass the traffic and head straight for the surface, leaving its numerous escorts behind where they joined with the system defense fleet. The elongated bluish/green cruiser darted into the atmosphere shields aglow as it dissipated speed in the nitrogen rich air. By the time it punctured the cloud layer it had slowed to a civilized crawl and steadily shed altitude until it was hovering just above the ocean’s gentle waves.
From there it traveled over the surface until it reached a specific set of coordinates, then came to a stop and lowered down into the water. Several minutes later it was fully submerged and used its gravity drives in differentiation mode to gently maneuver about, pulling and pushing against semi-lateral segments of the planet’s mass for inefficient, yet reliable propulsion, the only available given that the plasma engines couldn’t function underwater.
The cruiser continued to increase in depth until the surface spindles of an underwater structure seemingly rose up out of nowhere in the abnormally clear water. The cruiser docked at one of them and set its engines to station keeping, though the spindle itself was flexible enough to accommodate a wide range of accidental drift.
Ella and Riax debarked the cruiser and entered a small cupola atop the docking arm with several conduit ends visible. On the left was a standard liftcar hub with three closed doorways. In the center was a large flat liftpad for larger cargo transfers, and on the right was a clear pool of water deeper than he was tall next to a small opening on the floor with the water flowing out and down it.
“You want the slow way or the fast way?” Ella asked.
“Fast,” Riax said, walking over to the waterslide entrance and diving in head first. There was a significant slope for a dozen meters that he slid through neatly in the Cres bodysuit before the blue-lighted tube he was in tilted down into a near vertical freefall.
Riax felt himself go almost weightless as he traveled down the length of the two kilometer long docking spindle and into the underwater Cres city with the transit tube flattening out into a long washout runoff. Riax rotated on his elbows so that he slid to a stop face up as several Cres looked down at him, then their eyes angled behind him. Riax sat up just in time to see Ella slide into him feet first.
“We don’t usually go head first,” she said quizzically. “You’ve been down one before, haven’t you?”
“Many times,” he declared as he stood up and stepped out of the half-tube, reaching a hand back to pull Ella up with him. She quickly wrung her hair out and stepped in front.
“This way.”
Riax got wide-eyed looks from hundreds of denizens ranging from curious to fawning as Ella led him down through the city’s multiple levels, offering occasional information about the structure and world which wasn’t so dissimilar to the Cres’s original homeworld of Garagor. Most of the infrastructure was remarkably similar as well, which Ella attributed to their race attempting to recover what had been lost rather than delving into divergent research.
When they’d traveled approximately a third of the way down the city they came to the end of the upper airborne levels and the top of the humongous open water middle third that, while separate from the ocean waters and climate controlled, mimicked the outside environment in that all structures were located in the water level rather than being a part of the superstructure that surrounded it.
Riax stood at the bottom of a long, wide series of marble-like steps that ended in the smooth water’s surface, looking down on the glowing lights of the underwater city within a city, so far down that the individual orbs of light meshed into a giant inviting blob, as if a dull star was located beneath.
“I’m not that great of a swimmer, so this may take awhile,” Riax warned.
“No rush,” Ella assured him
Riax walked further down the steps, submerging himself in the water and telekinetically binding his nose shut. He shuffled down the last of the stairs then stepped off into nothingness.
He sank, but slowly, so he bent at the waist and put his head beneath his feet, beginning to swim with a crude dolphin kick straight down. Ella lazily swam beside him, her similar dolphin kick extremely smooth and dynamic with her double-jointed knees bending forward and back in slow rhythm while her hands remained at her sides, wavering slightly. She looked over at him.
Not as bad as I expected, she commented.
Where exactly are we going?
Just head straight down. I’ll let you know when we get there.
As Riax swam lower, sculling the water with his hands extended in front of him, the light began to resolve into individual clusters before the smooth edges of pod-like buildings appeared, stuck on the side of long stalks emanating out from the city’s superstructure. He had to adjust his line of descent slightly to avoid a four pod group with both interior and exterior lights defining the perimeter. As he swam past he rotated so he faced the small buildings.
Through the windows he could make out individual Cres walking about in pockets of air, as well as floating about in others. As he passed by he noticed forcefield-covered ventral entrances on some, with lighted open water rings on others.
Are these habitats?
Most are. The rest are recreational.
Obstacle courses?
Far right, she said, pointing with her mind. Riax spun about so he could keep his vertical descent while he focused on a s
tring of lights below. While he couldn’t make out structures down that far, let alone individuals, he could sense minds moving about rapidly as the Cres ran through the course.
Riax swam down a narrow corridor between many clusters of habitats, passing by and being passed by several other Cres swimmers, some of which began to pace him from a respectful distance.
Do I look that ridiculous?
Your knees don’t bend. It looks weird.
Riax noted the presence of his ‘escorts’ but otherwise ignored them as he patiently swam deeper and deeper through the Cres city, looking at everything upside down. He was really wishing for a tether or lift car or waterslide that would have gone all the way down to the bottom, but he knew the reason there weren’t any. If the city was ever invaded the middle water level would hamper non-aquatic troops and give the Cres a virtually impregnable base beneath it, forcing the invaders to fight them in the water.
Still, a simple handheld propulsion unit would have been convenient right about now. He’d have to build one later.
It took nearly an hour for Riax to swim the full length of the water level, which bottomed out in a sea of stalks rising up from the ground to serve as support spines for the carpet-like clusters of habitats that covered the floor and sidewalls. Once beneath them the light dimmed as the stalk forest partially blocked the view above.
This way, Ella said, swimming past him and taking the lead. He followed her to a seemingly anonymous section of floor where the stalks curved about covering a drain-like concentric staircase.
Riax finally allowed himself to flip over and right himself, feeling a small rush of blood flowing out of his head. He shook off the momentary dizziness and drifted down to the water-covered stairs, setting foot on the third ring down. Ella landed on the fifth and waited for him to catch up to her before walking on. When they got to the twenty seventh ring their feet passed through a dull forcefield and Riax felt his buoyancy begin to diminish.
Both the stairs and opaque forcefield were unlighted, hiding their presence on the floor of the enormous water level, but once Riax’s face passed out of the water and into the air beneath his eyes were met with a bright wash of light emanating from each of the progressively smaller ring-like steps, in the center of which was a rectangular opening containing a conventional staircase.
Riax followed Ella down into the bottom third of the city, which was awash with more light than either of its upper twins coming from a construction that almost appeared to be built of crystal. He reached out and touched the semi-clear support pillar on what looked to be a wide promenade with few denizens milling about. It wasn’t actually crystal, but a synthetic construct of similar properties.
“This is new,” he commented.
“Oh?” Ella asked.
“This material. What is it?”
“It comes from the seafloor, a substitute for the higher load-bearing materials our ancestors used. It’s usually referred to as Cres Crystal, though I don’t know the actual name.”
“Do you export it?”
“Yes.”
Riax tilted his head thoughtfully, running a finger over the glassy surface. “I’ll want a sample later.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked, frowning.
“Just a hunch I want to check out.”
“Easy enough,” she commented, wondering what he was thinking but not being given enough access to his mind to dig that deep, yet he still had his basic emotional layer open to her, which she took as a continual compliment. When he’d spoken of trust earlier he’d truly meant it. “We have stockpiles in the city, or I can arrange an inspection of one of our mining facilities.”
“How deep are they?”
“Twenty five to thirty kilometers, I think. We find the crystal in collection basins. Too deep to swim, for us anyway. There are creatures that live at those depths though.”
“Too deep for me, I can’t take that much pressure. Temperature?”
“Chilly at five to ten kilometers, then progressively warmer the deeper you get. Between the solar radiation and the geothermal heat there isn’t any ice on the planet.”
“Salts?” he asked as Ella led him through the lower levels toward the Conclave chamber.
“Minimal.”
“Gravity . . . 1.5?” Riax guessed.
“One point seven,” she corrected him. “The city’s life support is set to 1.0. How did you know?”
“Guess based on the size of the planet. How long have you been here?”
“You mean Cres? I’m not sure. At least 10,000 years.”
“You live here?” he asked, picking up on her hesitation.
“I was born here, but most of my time has been spent on offworld assignments.”
Not far from the water level entrance on the promenade they came to a translucent forcefield bubble surrounding a large gathering area built around a tiered depression. The field had a blue tint with Riax still being able to make out the similarly colored crowds gathered no sound was audible, giving the promenade a calm, busy feel as Cres moved about in ones and twos.
“Administration offices,” Ella told him as he looked at the outer walls. “The Conclave is waiting for you inside.”
Ella pointed at a short staircase leading down through the bubble to the crowd.
Riax raised an eyebrow at her.
“I’m not a member. I’ll go arrange your visit to the seafloor, then meet you back here afterwards,” she said with a nod before walking off.
Riax watched her go, then turned and squared himself with the bubble shield. He walked down the few exterior steps and gently pressed his left hand against it, feeling a slight resistance as he walked through.
Chapter 38
AS SOON AS he passed through the bubble he was met with a buzz of quiet conversation that immediately dropped off as his presence was noticed. Riax patiently walked down the steps toward the central platform, passing by row after row of seated Cres dressed in a myriad of colored uniforms, some with insignia he didn’t recognize, but most of their military and social structure appeared to have remained as it once was.
“I assume the story of how I came to be here has already disseminated its way to you?” Riax asked when he was only halfway down the stairs. He didn’t receive an answer until he stepped onto the central platform opposite four other Cres.
“Our apologies,” a green haired male said hesitantly. “Yes it has, though until just now we were not certain as to the truth of the matter.”
Riax looked between the four Cres, three of which were male. “Ley-Prefect?” he asked.
The Supreme Commander of the Cres military took half a step forward. “Here,” she said.
“Put all systems on alert,” Riax ordered. “Someone has gone to great lengths to prevent my coming here, and I’m not convinced that they will accept failure. They may attempt a further incursion of your territory.”
“Yes, Darmek,” she said respectfully, then turned and looked at one of her subordinates in the first row of seats behind her. He stood, turned, and quietly ran up and out of the conclave to relay her telepathic orders to the fleet.
“I am Riax, Beta, Colonel, C8, L3, X3, 12 . . . and as of now the Human Empire has returned. Key to rebuilding is the collection of our remaining technology, for which I will require your assistance. I have already located several remaining facilities, including an intact outpost from which I retrieved a considerable amount of cargo. That cargo is currently onboard a freighter making its way here through backwater systems drawing as little attention to itself as possible.
“I upgraded the ship so that it can jump in and out of system peripheries, as well as defend itself against moderate attack. Those upgrades cannot be allowed to fall into enemy hands, nor can the cargo. The items contained within are essential to begin rebuilding the Empire. I need a jumpship and escort fleet asse
mbled to retrieve it immediately.”
The Ley-Prefect sent another telepathic message to her courier en route while he was still in range. “It will take time, but it will be done.”
“Now,” Riax continued without missing a beat, despite the obvious hero worship permeating the room. They’d have to snap out of it on their own because he didn’t have time to coddle every Cres he came across. “There has been some speculation that your interstellar communications system has been cracked by an unknown enemy. To circumvent this I built a transmitter on the freighter that operates through different means. I will build another for the retrieval fleet so that you can locate and rendezvous with the ship without potentially giving away its location.”
“I’ll provide you with a list of components, but it is essential that I get the transmitter built and the fleet set in motion as soon as possible. I want the ship, crew, and cargo safely in Cres territory before the enemy can track them down,” he underscored.
“We will supply you with whatever you require,” the green haired Cres said, “though I do not know if our technology will be adequate for the task.”
“I’m a tech. I’ll improvise,” Riax assured him.
The Ley-Kepra, commander of all industrial production, accepted his assurance with a nod.
“Ley-Braga?”
“Here, Darmek,” the male standing next to the Prefect responded.
“Upon retrieval of the cargo, I will need a large amount of raw materials from which to construct the basics of our infrastructure. I hear that corovon is somewhat scarce in your territory?”
“Very,” he said without embarrassment. “Most deposits were depleted years ago, and 73% of our current production is through recycling measures.”
“I will help you locate and access new deposits,” Riax promised. “But I will need most of your reserves to create the machines to accomplish that end.”