by James Murdo
“The side-room opposite this one is unoccupied.” He stood up beside her. “I’ll show you.”
31
UNIMPEDED CERTAINTY
The hatch door slid open.
Tolren smiled at Seremend. “You okay?” he asked.
“I’m not sure.” She turned and walked back into the main section of the side-room, followed by Tolren. They sat down next to each other.
“I don’t understand it,” she said, simply. “Why has all this time passed for me, but for you it’s like no time at all? Do you even believe me?”
He reached for her hand. “I do. But… I don’t know. Maybe whoever controls this place sent you back to me? Sent us back to each other.”
She leaned away from him in frustration. “It’s much more than you think.” She paused, struggling to find the right words. “It’s not just these individual spires… it encompasses so much… the Construct…” She shook her head. “But I’m back here.”
Tolren looked concerned. “Look… what happened, I wish I hadn’t done it. I’m sorry.”
“It’s done.” Her head snapped up and she stared at him, although her expression quickly softened. “We can’t change what happened.”
He exhaled loudly. “Before I came here… when I was running, I lied to you about it. I was on my own, there was no one I could trust–”
“I know,” she said, matter-of-factly. “I know who you are. You’re Gerstial II, aren’t you?”
His hand flinched, although he kept it on top of hers. “How… how did you find out?”
“I’ve had a lot of time to think.”
His eyes glazed as though he was looking into the distance. “I’ve grown so used to being Tolren. I almost persuaded myself that I was him… that he wasn’t dead.”
Seremend placed her other hand on top of his as well and shifted her body towards him. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you did it. What the reports said.”
He smiled thinly. “Thank you. Although I did wonder for a time if there was more I could have done. I didn’t do what they said, but… after Philsima died, everything became so confusing.”
“Did she do it herself?”
“A latent psychological condition… not her fault. That was the problem with the Alexis technology.” He tapped his naval where his own implant was. “Modifications have effects. Obvious in the aftermath, but at the time, less so.” He looked down, sadly. “I never even got to see her body… never got to say goodbye.”
“What happened?” Seremend asked. “To the rest of your family?”
“I haven’t said their names for so long.” He hung his head. “I shouldn’t have stopped saying them. And I should have told you.”
“Tell me now.” Seremend looked surprised at herself. “I want to know,” she added softly.
“After Phils died, well… Trict couldn’t handle it. I think she wanted to look after Phils, to be with her. I don’t know how she died, I wasn’t allowed to see her body either. But when they were both gone… I wanted to join them too.” He stopped to clear his throat. “But I couldn’t… my parents had no one left. But then…”
“Go on.”
“I think my parents were killed. There’s no way they would have left me. The lady who took over the meld… Quesimone, I think she did it.” He gritted his teeth. “I know she did it.”
“She’s who you thought put the tracking device into you?”
“There’s no one else that makes sense, no one else who gained so much. My father’d just let me in on some of the more secretive components of our meld. Stuff that’d help us diversify and lessen our reliance on Alexis tech. Quesimone was a key part of that, and she’d always seemed so…”
“Ambitious?”
“That, but also cold. Very cold. And I know she was very excited about some of the developments. Then, after what happened to my parents, it just seemed so obvious to me that she was involved, but impossible to prove. So I left. I didn’t know what to do. But she searched for me. Went after Tolren and Taiden, although, of course, what she did to them barely warranted a report.” He laughed bitterly. “I’d do anything to change what happened. She dissolved the Alexis-Meld quickly, established newer melds based off the various projects my parents ran.”
“And that’s when you became Tolren,” Seremend said.
“Easier to live as someone else.”
“You were also keeping him alive, through you.”
“Yes.”
“So… still Tolren?” she asked.
He looked at her confused, until realisation dawned. “If you don’t mind.”
“I understand. It’s what this was for.” She leant forward and pulled her hood over her face. “Easier. Less questions. The Outer Layer’s different to the Spires. There’re whole communities, civilisations built from scratch. Everyone’s different, barely more than a few from each species, but ours–”
“What d’you mean?”
“The copies, they make us conspicuous. I’ve never actually met another biological Roranian, but those mimics are everywhere. Have you?”
“No, I haven’t. You mentioned them before too – copies. I don’t understand, what are they copies of? And what’s the Outer Layer?”
She hesitated. “I just can’t believe you don’t know.” She rolled her eyes. “And now I don’t know where to start.”
He stared at her intently. “I don’t know what any of it means.”
“Really?”
He shook his head, and she slumped back.
*
Tolren looked at Seremend, incredulously.
“Copies of me!”
“Yes.” She giggled at the absurdity of it. “You become numb to it.”
Tolren’s eyes darted around as though he were seeing questions, but unsure of where to start. “Who made them?” he asked, exasperatedly.
“I thought you did!”
“Me?” he blurted out. “How would I do that?”
She shrugged, animatedly.
“So…” he huffed. “So you reached this Outer Layer, and came across…” He looked at her to check he was correct, and she nodded encouragingly. “Machine-lect copies… of me. All slightly different.”
“That’s right.”
“And it’s enormous, this Outer Layer?”
“As much as anyone can make sense of it, yes. Most think it’s a globe, although no one’s managed to prove that. The territories change too much. Gravity – and everything else – aren’t exactly constant. It’s difficult to map. Too, too vast. Some of the territories are familiar, and you’ll come across those who say it’s exactly the environment they were plucked from. They try to claim them.”
“What’s it an Outer Layer for?” he blurted.
“That’s the big question. The thing pushing everyone forwards to find out. There are hatch-points, like hatches in the spires, that allow you deeper. Into the Inner Layer. But they don’t always open. It’s as good as random.”
“What’s in the Inner Layer?”
“No one knows. I thought you were there.”
“You don’t know anything about it?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Nothing at all. Maybe… maybe it doesn’t even exist. I don’t understand it, but I’m back here, after all. I’m not sure what’s going on.”
“There’s no end?”
“That’s just it,” she said. “There must be, because I’ve never heard of anyone returning like me before. Once you’re given entry through a hatch-point, you’re never seen again. Except…”
“Except what?”
“Except for you, Tolren. You went through, a long time ago.”
32
CROSSOVER EXPEDITION
The banging against the side-room’s hatch door was loud.
“Tolren!” The voice was loud and raspy.
Seremend stirred immediately, staring with alarm at Tolren, who was still half-asleep. She pushed him, and he groggily lifted his head.
“Tolren
!”
“What is it, Prood?” he shouted back.
“Spire. Turn!”
Tolren leaned forwards, alert. “On our way!” He rolled to the side and began putting his clothes on. “Come on, Seremend. I’ll explain. And take your pack, just in case something happens.”
“Who was that?” she asked, moving to get dressed as well.
“Prood?” Tolren asked, grinning. “She’s what’s made this all possible without translation technology. All of us working together. She’s deciphered the basics of many of our languages.”
“She speaks Roranian?”
“To a degree, yes.”
“All on her own?”
He nodded. “She’s the best we have.”
“No one here’s got a translation device?”
“Some do, but none seem to work too well. The languages are quite difficult. Something about the differences being beyond expected parameters of all the devices. Maybe it’s this place itself.” He gestured around them. “Could be affecting them.”
“It was the same for me too,” Seremend said, fiddling with her pack. “There’re better ones in the Outer Layer. Whole industries are dedicated to their manufacture.”
“Well, until we get there, we’ve got Prood. She goes on most of the expeditions.”
“To nearby spires?”
“Yes. It’s our turn this time.”
“To visit another spire?”
“Yes,” he said, cheerily.
“Prood doesn’t mind?”
“Doesn’t seem to. When you see her, maybe you’ll recognise her species.”
“I doubt it.” Seremend laughed at the absurdity of it. “We’re rare, all of us are.”
“Roranians?”
“No. Everyone.”
Tolren hesitated, and then fished his hand into his pack. “Here – I want to you take this.”
“Tolren, what’s this?” Seremend stared at it, perplexed. “I can’t – it’s yours.”
“Keep it safe for me, okay?”
She looked at it for a moment, smiled and took it. “Your… flybo.” She nodded, satisfied at her recollection. “Remember when you accused me of stealing it? Then you told me it was defective – something about it not functioning correctly because it behaved like another flybo was around – and now you’re asking me to have it. You’re not asking to trade it for a translation device, are you?” she asked, sarcastically.
He grinned, before asking half-seriously, “D’you have one?”
Seremend shook her head. “Not anymore. My last one stopped working soon after I acquired it.” She grimaced. “Knew it was too good to be true. They’re expensive.”
They finished readying themselves and left the side-room.
“This way,” Tolren said, leading her down the way they had come the previous day.
Seremend looked at the strange grouping of various species she had never seen before. Tolren smiled and gestured amicably to some of them. A few seemed to reciprocate in an approximate and analogous manner. Others responded either bizarrely, or not at all.
“They all seem… fine,” Seremend said. “Do many understand each other?”
“Just about enough, for the most part. But on the whole, it’s more… mutual understanding. No one behaves aggressively. Ones that do don’t get to stay long.”
“I see. And does everyone here take it in turns to investigate spires?”
“Yes, and we all understand that. Prood helps a lot.” He pulled her closer. “We’ll go together. I don’t want to leave you again.”
They ran to the nearest compartment with suitable modules and settled into an adjacent pair.
“Spires are less frequent now, but they stick around for a lot longer.” He looked at her questioningly. “Of course, some don’t let you dock… but we can’t do anything about that.”
“There are different phases,” she said, pensively. “Different types. Some are completely unsuitable for certain modules, so they don’t let you cross over. Probably means we wouldn’t be able to survive there.”
“I thought that was the reason!” He paused, as though ordering the piece of information correctly in his mind. “Ready?”
“Let’s go.”
“Wait!” Tolren jerked back and jumped off the seat to rummage into his pack. “You need to take one.” His hand emerged with a small device. Darting out of his module, he waited for Seremend to push hers open.
“What’s this?” she asked, playing with the device in her hand.
“Shock-tech, not sure from what species, but seems to incapacitate most. And it’s harmless, usually. Wears off after a few moments, but it’ll give you time if you need it.”
She smiled, handing it back. “Thank you, Tolren, but…” She motioned to her own pack. “I’ve survived long enough. Don’t worry about me.”
“Are you sure?”
“You keep it for me, just in case.”
He nodded and returned to his module. “Alright then.”
Once they were both settled into their seats, they pressed the pads on the controls, reading the familiar Roranian script displayed, and nodded to each other. “Nice to see this again,” Seremend said appreciatively.
“Sometimes Prood uses the messages the module displays for different species to help with her translations.”
With a final smile at each other, they pressed the central pads. The modules streamed away, towards the spire ahead. There were two other modules from a nearby compartment also making the journey across. Tolren pointed between them. “That’s Prood. Next to her is Galphranx. You don’t recognise Prood’s species, then? Or–”
“No. I don’t think I’ve seen either before.”
Seremend could see why Prood and Galphranx had taken those particular modules, which had different configurations to accommodate their larger frames. Prood was grey-skinned with streaks of black lacing down from her long upper torso, disappearing into the clothed section of her thick, lower torso. She appeared similarly limbed to a typical Roranian, although each limb was far thicker and shorter relative to her body size, and glistened in the starlight. She was sitting on a small raised surface, almost completely folded over in two.
Galphranx looked about the same total size as Prood. Its main cylindrical body was white, with thin, light-blue circles spaced at regular intervals – about an arm’s width apart – down its mass. The circles throbbed and wriggled about, as though excited. The cylindrical body itself had a circumference with a radius near to that of one of Seremend’s outstretched arms.
“No one else is coming?” she asked.
“Just them. Too risky otherwise. Each time a new spire becomes available, only a few of us go to take a look. If it’s empty and contains modules with more journeys left in them, we swap them.” He gestured to the lights on the control panel that signified how many journeys each had left.
“Sensible,” she said.
“Prood can often communicate with whoever we find and have a basic conversation.”
“Will you tell them,” she said, gesturing back to the spire they had come from. “About what I told you? About the Outer Layer, and everything that waits for them.”
“It’s going to take some time with Prood, but we have to.”
“It might not be welcome knowledge.”
The modules were accepted by the new spire.
33
REMEMBERED ALLIANCE
The section of the spire they entered was earthy, dark and hive-like, with an intermingling of aromas that were easy to distinguish between, although surprisingly difficult to describe. The main, overriding scent, was so powerful that Seremend could not only taste it, but also feel its strange, and not unpleasant, effect upon her skin. Her mind was pushed towards pleasant thoughts. There were no sounds or signs of life, aside from their own.
Prood shuffled around. She walked with a comical, plodding movement on account of her short, stocky legs. While her entire body leant forwards and appeared constantly off
-balance, Seremend had the sense she was highly steady and compact. At full height, Prood would easily have reached double her own. The lowermost circular part of Galphranx’s cylindrical body changed shape to grip and pull against the floor, allowing it to shimmy around, accompanied by a persistent scraping sound. Seremend tried not to stare.
“Anything?” Tolren asked Prood.
“All quiet!” Prood yelled, making Seremend wince. Tolren merely smiled. Prood gestured around them and repeated, “All quiet!” Galphranx made no sound.
“Galphranx suggests we go this way,” Tolren said.
Seremend stared at him. “When?”
“Galphranx communicates directly to the–”
“Mind!” Prood said loudly. Tolren gave Seremend an apologetic look as she winced again.
“You understand what it’s saying?” she asked.
“Sometimes there are flashes of language we understand. I think it learns from Prood. That’s why they stay together so often.”
“Interesting.”
“Let’s go,” Tolren said.
As they walked down the spire, Seremend nervously kept an eye behind her.
“Tolren,” she whispered.
“Yes?”
“Is Galphranx following me?”
He looked around and laughed. “Just keeping up, that’s all.”
“What is it? A ‘he’, a ‘she’? Something else?”
“I’ve personally settled for an ‘it’.”
“Well, ‘its’ body keeps shifting towards me.”
“It’s just observing the spire.”
“Look!” she hissed.
Tolren looked again. “It’s probably nothing. It’ll focus on someone else soon. Nothing to worry about.”
They carried on. Seremend relaxed as Galphranx appeared to lose interest in her a short time later and, as Tolren had suggested, appeared more curious about their surroundings.
The spire changed. The earthy ambiance was replaced by shiny shards of interlocking, metallic segments that emitted a low drone, and which regularly reordered into new configurations. When the shards reordered themselves, a bright white layer of something else that seemed to flow like a liquid underneath them was momentarily exposed.