by James Murdo
“The hatch?” he speculated loudly over the hum.
“No, not the hatch,” Seremend replied.
“How d’you know?”
“Behind you.”
Tolren turned from the hatch and saw that she was looking straight down the centre of the compartment, through to the window in the main cabin. It took him a moment to understand what she meant. Then he saw it.
They walked to the front of the ship and gazed out. The stars were disappearing.
16
TROUBLED CLARITY
Seremend huffed quietly as she tapped the food dispenser. When the food packet was delivered, she grabbed it and settled in a corner of the main cabin where it adjoined the next compartment, facing the window.
Tolren looked at the options on the dispenser.
“It’s been days,” she grumbled.
Tolren nodded.
“Where’ve we travelled to?”
“You’re still sure?” he asked, tapping the dispenser’s controls.
She gave him a sharp look. “I’m sure.”
“We might not’ve moved. Maybe we rotated.”
“The stars disappeared, Tolren.” She looked up and rested her head momentarily back against the wall of the ship, adding assuredly, “We moved.”
“But why?” he said, slowly. “How?”
“Exactly.”
Tolren waited for the selected food packet to be dispensed and mulled over what had happened some days ago now. Once the stars had twinkled out, in a seemingly random pattern, they had almost immediately reappeared – except they were not the same. Brighter ones were gone, new patterns were displayed, different clusters and stellar gradients. Had he been alone, he would not have been certain – but Seremend was.
Accompanying the introduction of the new stars, immediately upon their arrival, the hatch at the back of the ship had opened to reveal another compartment. Their excitement had quickly evaporated on discovering it to be entirely devoid of answers or features of interest. It was an empty compartment, with circular glintsparse – they presumed – windows running along both sides, and another large hatch at the end, the same as the hatch that had opened to reveal it. They saw nothing but starry space through the windows.
“D’you think it just passed us by?” She chewed the food in her mouth slowly. “Or d’you think we docked with it – and something’s waiting for us, past the end hatch?”
He sighed and took the food packet. Walking over to her, he sat down. “I don’t know.”
“What’s all this?” She waved an arm around, lethargically. “A series of never-ending empty compartments? Is that what this structure… this…” She looked at him.
“Spike-ship?” Tolren offered.
“Whatever it is. Fine, spike-ship. What’s the point?” She looked into his eyes briefly. “Are we being contaminated?”
He laughed, despite himself. She had stressed the first part of the question, as though they had discussed it before. “Or decontaminated. That’s a nicer thought.” There were many possibilities, both discussed and as-of-yet undiscussed. He cocked his head. “Maybe… the new compartment is just for looking out.”
“Oh, how useful.”
“I’m being serious.”
“Anything’s possible,” she said doubtfully, fiddling with her empty packet as she set her head back against the wall.
After some time, with her eyes still closed, she asked Tolren, “Why aren’t you frustrated?”
“I am, I want to find–”
“No, I mean… you’re more patient. Why?”
“It’s better than where I was before,” he said, simply.
“It can’t have been that bad on Lillea,” she said.
He looked down. “The situation I was in… it was dangerous. I was running.”
“From what?”
“Everything.”
“Why?”
“It was all a mess. They kept finding me, I don’t know how.” Tolren gathered his thoughts and took a deep breath. “Did you hear about the Alexis-Meld?”
“Of course, you’ve got an Alexis-ring.”
“I’m referring to its dissolution and what followed–”
“Ah!” she shouted, opening her eyes and leaning forwards. “I knew I recognised you, and that name – it’s everywhere, even reached Nirloden!” She stared at him, while he continued to look down, fixated on a patch of floor in the distance. “You’re Tolren… The Tolren! Playmate of Gerstial II, heir to the Alexis-Meld and brother of the two sisters who–”
“That’s who I am.”
She barely heard him. “The sisters. The youngest, what was her name – Philimina? No, Philsima. She had that incurable infection that killed her. Then the other one, Beatrict II, ended her own…” She grimaced and looked at him apologetically. “But what happened to you? Wasn’t it your father who–”
“Taiden had nothing to do with it. He just did what he was told, an implantation and monitoring specialist.”
“But when the meld was dissolved people stopped using the Alexis technologies.”
“He found work elsewhere on Lillea. There were many opportunities, smaller melds that could use his expertise. So, we went.”
She looked at him quizzically. “What were you running from?”
“Eventually, they turned their attentions to us. They thought we might know where Gerstial II was. It was only a matter of time, really.”
“And did you? Do you?”
He shuddered and she stopped. She gently swayed to the side, pushing her shoulder against his. “I can’t believe I’ve met someone like you.”
“What do you mean?”
“What you’ve seen, how you grew up… can’t get further from my life than yours.”
He smiled. “Not anymore.”
“You wouldn’t have looked twice at me.”
“That’s not true.” He blushed.
She frowned. “How did they keep finding you?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. In the end, there was no one I could trust… but they still came. They came and they came… I don’t know what I would have done.” He thumped the floor. “I doubt they’ll find me now.”
“Can I see it?” she asked.
“What?” he asked innocently.
“You know what I’m talking about – your Alexis-ring! I’ve never actually seen one.”
“You must have!”
“Tolren, how many times? I’m from Nirloden.”
“Fair enough,” he sighed. “Fine.” He knelt forwards and turned towards her, awkwardly lifting his top.
She stared at the metal ring and cap in the place of his navel. “Do you mind if I…”
He grinned, his face reddening. “Okay.”
She touched it, and recoiled almost immediately, laughing. “Why would anyone want that?”
He pulled his top down and rocked back to sit against the wall again. “It made life easier.”
Seremend looked aghast. “What if it opens?” she asked, incredulously.
“What – here? I don’t know. Only ever used it with the tubes before. I don’t think it can.”
“What do you mean?”
“It was all automatic… a feeding tube latched onto it – you can’t actually look inside.”
“Does it still work?”
“I think it opens if you put pressure all around it, but… it’s not something I’d want to do.”
She laughed, making a comically disgusted sound.
“I don’t–”
Seremend shrieked. “The stars are disappearing again!”
They rose to their feet and rushed to the front of the cabin, looking out to the side.
“It’s not that,” Tolren said. “It’s something out there… covering them, like before. See, some of the stars are coming back.”
“Another spike-ship?”
He grabbed her hand. “This way.”
They ran towards the newest compartment, with the circular windows along the side
, and peered out. A dark, thin bar swept through space. They craned their necks against the windows to look down as it continued on its trajectory. Wherever it moved, it blotted out the stars behind. It was travelling quickly. A few moments later, it was gone.
“It was another structure, a spike-ship, wasn’t it?” Seremend said excitedly. “Like ours! What if there really are others? Just like us!”
Before Tolren could reply, the structure around them started to vibrate. They looked out and saw space empty itself of stars, one-by-one. Seremend pulled Tolren around by the shoulder to face the large, closed hatch. “It’ll happen again.” She was right. A moment later, the hatch began to open.
17
CURRENT DISCOVERIES
Days had passed since the hatch’s opening, revealing yet another compartment that appeared the same as the last – empty, aside from circular windows adorning the sides and a large hatch at the end. There was little to interrupt the monotony, aside from the occasional sightings of what they called spike-ships in the distance.
They sat in the newest compartment, facing each other with their backs against opposing sides.
“Why d’you think the hatches opened?” Tolren asked.
Seremend stopped staring out of the window just past the top of his head and looked at him. “Still no idea – why?”
Tolren stroked his chin. “I mean… specifically. What caused them to open?”
Seremend sighed. “Who knows? It could be anything.”
“What if it was in response to us or something we did?”
“We’ve been over this, there’s nothing.”
“But something we’re doing has to have some sort of effect. The ship vibrates, the stars… reset, and the hatch opens. We must be doing something.”
“Maybe it’s random.”
“A test? A game? Do we need to work together…?” He trailed off.
“Exactly,” she said, dejectedly. “Work together… on what? There’s no way of telling why we’re here or what we’re meant to do. If we’re really on our own spike-ship, you’ve seen how long they look, Tolren – most of the time we can’t see their ends.” Tolren did not reply, still deep in thought. Seremend carried on. “I wish some of the others came closer.”
“We could keep track of them,” Tolren suggested.
“Yeah,” she said, miserably. “Easier said than done.”
They waited again, in silence. After a while, Seremend leaned forwards. “Tolren, I’ve been thinking.”
“Yes?”
“You said you were being tracked, didn’t you? By someone called Quesimone.”
“It seemed that way,” he mumbled. “They always found me.”
“Well… maybe it was you.”
He looked at her, confused. “Eh?”
She stood up. “What if you were being tracked?”
“Yes, that’s what–”
“No, I mean, you yourself. Something… in you. Alerting them to your position.”
Tolren furrowed his brow. “How?”
She put her hands on her hips. “Think about it, Tolren. What’s the easiest way for someone to implant something designed to track someone from Lillea? Someone who uses Alexis technology… who can’t even see or care what goes into their body.”
He looked down, instinctively, surprised to see one of his hands already positioned on his top over the Alexis-ring. “You think…”
“There’s one way to find out.”
*
The innocuous capsule lay next to the side-room’s small food dispenser. Tolren stopped staring at it, and crooked his head further forwards to look at his stomach.
“Now we know,” Seremend said, standing beside his flairfold. She stroked his forehead with the palm of her hand.
“All this time…” he murmured. “I wonder when they did it.”
“Quesimone may’ve had her eye on Gerstial II for some time, and all the others. Maybe she implanted you all.”
He tried to rise up, but Seremend stopped him, leaning over to push him back down gently by the shoulders. “You should rest.”
“I feel fine.”
“Maybe, but we’ve just taken that thing out of you. No need to rush things. Look around – we’re not going anywhere.” She smiled.
He gave up the light resistance, sinking back down.
“Rest, for now,” she said.
“Wait–”
She held up her hand. “I know.” She picked up the capsule resting on the side surface, dropped it to the floor and stamped on it. There was a crunching sound as she ground it down. “Here.” She lifted it up. “Non-functional.” Pulling the handle of the compression unit, she placed the crushed capsule inside.
He relaxed.
*
Tolren woke up feeling refreshed, and, judging by the timestamp on the snack he ordered, much later than usual. Seremend had been right, his body had needed the rest.
He joined her in the furthermost compartment, holding his snack. She was also eating.
“Sleep well?” she asked.
“Thanks to you.” He smiled, scooping the food into his mouth.
She motioned towards the closed hatch, breathing out slowly. “And now, onto the next mystery. Any further thoughts as to what’s waiting for us?”
Tolren gulped. “Hopefully something different.”
“Imagine,” she said. “If the entire spike-ship is just one long… empty vessel.” She laughed, although her smile was not as wide as usual.
“Amusing in a way,” he admitted. “Aside from us being stuck here.”
“Maybe the other end has some controls. Some way for us to travel wherever we want,” Seremend said wistfully.
“That would be nice. Where would you go? Back to Nirloden?”
“Where–” She glanced up, distracted. “It’s nothing… I thought I might have seen another spike-ship. Where would I go? The galaxy would be ours to explore. I’d go anywhere we wanted! We could leave Alliance territory altogether.”
“Leave the Alliance,” Tolren said. “You think we haven’t already.”
“True. And you?”
“Me?”
“Would you return to Lillea?” she asked.
He turned away and focused at the window at the other end of her wall. “What for? There’s nothing for me.”
“Surely your father – Taiden.”
“Taiden’s dead.”
Seremend brought her hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise.”
“It’s okay.”
“Was it because of your friend Gerstial II?”
Tolren nodded and drew in a large breath. “He was selfish. Wouldn’t hand himself over. Taiden was killed.”
“The melds… even the Alliance itself,” Seremend seethed. “It’s so…” She searched for the right word to finish the sentence. “Corrupt.”
“It is,” Tolren replied.
“Do you think Gerstial II is alive?” Seremend asked.
Tolren shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“He blamed his parents, didn’t he?”
Tolren let the words linger.
“Is that why he did it? To punish them?”
“You’d have to ask him,” Tolren replied.
*
Tolren stretched, stood up and walked over to the closed hatch at the end of the last segment. He peered closely, eyeing the details.
“I’m still not sure if we created this,” he mused.
Seremend looked up. “This ship?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t think it was created by Roranians?” she said, with doubt in her voice.
“Or the Alliance – we can’t really know. It looks like it’s supposed to appear…”
“Normal?”
“Exactly. But the stable gravity… the complexity of it all… The lack of any obvious reason to… this.”
“Then who?”
He did not reply. Instead, he examined the hatch even more closely, tracing his fingers
along its grooves. Seremend watched. Once he was satisfied, he turned and walked out of the section, down through the others and into the cabin room. Seremend followed him. He stopped in front of the smaller entrance hatch.
“What’ve you found?” she asked, standing close to him.
He cleared his throat. “These hatches aren’t exactly what we’d expect, are they?”
“What d’you mean?”
“They’re designed to mimic what we’d expect to see.” He frowned. “I’ve not been off-world before, and neither have you, but this is exactly what we’d expect, isn’t it, but…”
“But what?”
“They’re just wrong. Look – this entrance hatch, it’s absolutely the same as the larger one at the end.” He pointed back towards the closed hatch in the compartment at the other end. “There’s nothing to make us think they’re different, apart from size. But they are different. They’re completely different.”
“What?” Seremend stopped speaking. She moved to the centre of the cabin room to squint back down to the large, closed hatch, then at the inter-compartment hatches where they had opened, and finally at the entrance hatch again.
Tolren pointed at the entrance hatch. “This hatch is designed so that it swings open and closed. That’s how our ships are designed. But those…” He pointed to the large inter-compartment hatches. “They slide to the side… like we’d expect if we were on the ground. They’re planetary entrances. Same as with our side-rooms.”
“Yet they look almost exactly the same.”
“The internal locking mechanism is deliberately patterned on the side of the hatch door for practical purposes. So engineers and mechanics can understand them if there’s an issue. But those ones, they shouldn’t look like that. Not if they’re sliding, disappearing into the ship. It doesn’t make sense.”
“Then why do they?”
“Maybe this spike-ship is something else… more advanced than we realise. It’s all too perfect.”
“But… it doesn’t need to have the hatches swing open – much neater to take them back into the walls.”
“Then why the design?” Tolren asked. “It’s not functional, and actually dangerous if something goes wrong. And anyway, look out the windows, the hull’s not nearly thick enough for them to slide straight out.”