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Four Tomorrows: A Space Opera Box Set

Page 11

by James Palmer

Bal Tabarin waited restlessly for the signal of the transmitter beacon to be received as days passed, ever so slowly. He spent much of the time poring over legends of mystical gems collected from across the Milky Way.

  He didn’t like what he found.

  The gems in some legends were believed to be repositories of souls of the dead. Other gems were thought to be a record of the history of the universe. Some gems were supposed to possess awesome abilities, such as speaking with the dead and healing the sick. Bal noticed with annoyance that the translation in this last account was spotty; it occurred to him that the actual wording of the legend may have been “the power over life and death”.

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  Every account mentioned that these special gems were believed to predate the existence of Man, i.e., current intelligent life, and to have come from a different plane of existence, though this was couched in terms common to primitive cultures, such as “not of this world”, and “the spirit world”.

  Bal wondered if Batrachian’s collectors knew of these legends, if these stories motivated them. Or was mere avarice their guide?

  He grew uncomfortable when he read that many accounts mentioned that the gem of a particular legend was but one of several, “several” usually being between six and twelve. The Corruban didn’t believe this to be an unpleasant coincidence with the number pieces of the gem he had estimated there to be, based on how the two he had seen fit together, how much volume might have been missing.

  Reading on, Bal looked for stories about gathering this group of gems together. He found two:

  When the nine Stomachs are brought together, they will reveal the secrets of the Universe, and the Last Age of Mankind will begin.

  When the [untranslatable] are gathered and returned to their place of origin, they will save Mankind.

  Bal immediately noticed the similarities of the two legends.

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  “Mankind” referred to the sentient culture that produced the legend, not scientifically defined Humans. He cross-referenced “stomach” in the first legend, and found it was the organ associated with emotions, like the heart, to Humans. The “[untranslatable]” was a reference to an imaginary organ or gland in the head which dealt with the spirit and magic, it being the repository of the life force of a being. This sounded uncomfortably like the “third eye” of Old Earth legend, and the psychic ability with which it was associated.

  A cold chill swept through Bal, seeing the correlation between the gems’ supposed abilities and those of the Sabours, and suddenly, he had doubts about continuing the search for the remaining gem fragments. If the missing fragments were located, what affect would that have on Rebani Kalba?

  Bal Tabarin pushed his chair back from the large desk in his stateroom, and thought about his findings. He wondered how much Rebani had learned from his possession of the gem. Bal hadn’t asked again after the Sabour’s initial explanation that the gem had spoken to him, although the Udehe hadn’t understood what it had said. Did he understand now? And if so, what was the gem saying?

  A thought struck him as if it were a physical thing: Had Rebani understood the gem all along?

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  Rebani Kalba heard the noise, but did not recognize it. It was rhythmic, and piercing. It might have been the chirp of a cricket, but was not. He ignored it, and shut the door to the imaginary room to block out the sound.

  In the imaginary room with indefinite boundaries, Rebani questioned the gem, which had the shape of a man, though its form, too, was vague.

  “What do you want of me?” demanded the Sabour.

  The gem that was a man seemed not to reply, but Rebani said, “That is not a satisfactory answer. I need to know more.”

  Abruptly there came a knocking at the door.

  Again, Rebani ignored the noise. “You must want more. I know you are more than you pretend.”

  The knocking grew louder, and Rebani could not resist glancing at the door. When he turned back to the gem in the shape of a man, it was gone.

  Scowling, Rebani went to the imaginary door, and opening it, returned to the physical reality of his cabin aboard The Vagabond Lady.

  Rebani Kalba sat on the floor of the cabin, cross-legged, wearing only his gray trousers. The gem hovered gently in the air before him, bobbing slightly as if adrift on a lake, buffeted by tiny waves. Greenish smoke from a brazier swirled around him, filling the air with a sour-sweet smell, turning gray as it neared the ceiling. Bal Tabarin stood over him, with an annoyed expression on his face.

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  “I’ve been calling your name for a decichronon,” said Bal, annoyance coloring his voice.

  Rebani reached out, and the gem fell into his hand.

  “That is probably an exaggeration,” suggested Rebani, smiling slightly. He reached over to the brazier, and extinguished an incense stick between a thumb and forefinger.

  “Even so …,” retorted Bal.

  Rebani rose to his feet in one smooth motion. “I was meditating,” he said simply.

  Bal realized there was no gain in pursuing the matter further, and shrugged to himself. “When you first told me why you were interested in the gem, you said it had spoken to you, but you didn’t know what it said.”

  Rebani nodded in agreement.

  “Has it said anything more since then?” Bal asked, leadingly.

  “To say that it ‘speaks’ is overstating the case,” corrected Rebani. “I did tell you that, on that occasion.”

  “You know what I mean,” Bal said in a hard voice.

  “The information I receive from the gem is more vague than that which you have witnessed when questioning others.”

  “And?” prompted Bal.

  “I gather that it is content to be with me,” Rebani replied somewhat uneasily.

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  “Content,” Bal said in a disbelieving tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You have seen that I am able to tell what mental state a being is in, whether or not he is being truthful, and so on,” explained Rebani, frustration tingeing his voice. “I am less certain when referring to the gem.

  “You know that when a cat purrs, it is content, it wishes to prolong the conditions it is in, even though you don’t speak ‘cat’,” Rebani said. “You could say the gem often ‘purrs’. I do not know why it purrs, why it is content in my company, or what I do or am to make it content. But my impression is that the gem is content to be in my possession, for whatever that is worth. It may be meaningless.”

  “But you don’t think so.”

  “I do not think so. But I cannot say more than that.”

  “Can’t?” asked Bal, grinning wolfishly. “Or won’t?”

  Rebani smiled wanly. “Perhaps a measure of both.”

  The two eyed each other for moments.

  “I hesitate to offer information which may not be valuable,” the Sabour said finally.

  Bal wore an expectant expression on his face.

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  “I had a troubling dream recently,” Rebani explained awkwardly. “The gem may be trying to influence my subconscious, but I am not certain. I was meditating to ascertain the truth.”

  Bal’s face lit up. “Wait a millichronon! Just before I realized the gem was one of many that fit together, I had a dream where I was trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle. That’s quite a coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Perhaps,” said Rebani slowly. “Often, our subconscious minds know things that our conscious minds do not. Yours may have been trying to tell you that the gem was a piece of a larger whole, like a jigsaw puzzle ….”

  “Or the gem was trying to tell me,” finished Bal. This brought the conversation back to where it had begun. “Have you learned anything more from the gem?”

  “Only that it is hiding something from me,” answered Rebani.

  “Hiding something? Like what?”

  “‘Hiding’ may be too strong a word,” Rebani corrected himself. “It
implies intent. There is more to the gem than I know, or am able to perceive. I cannot be certain that the gem is withholding information deliberately – it may simply be ‘mute’ – but my impression is that it voluntarily does not communicate more freely.”

  “What purpose would that serve?” asked Bal, thinking out loud.

  “I do not know.”

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  Then Bal remembered the two prophecies. “Are you sure we want to locate the other pieces of the gem?”

  Rebani’s left eyebrow raised in surprise. “Why do you ask? I thought you were in this ‘to the end.’ Weren’t those your words?”

  “I found some legends which say that when the gems are brought together, something cataclysmic is going to happen,” Bal explained sheepishly. It sounded silly, saying it out loud.

  “I see,” Rebani Kalba said thoughtfully. “That’s what brought you to my cabin.”

  “Yes,” answered Bal. He almost expected the Sabour to laugh. If Rebani had been anyone but who he was, Bal would have expected him to laugh. “Perhaps the gem doesn’t want to tell you that it wants to be joined with the other gems. Maybe that’s what it’s hiding?”

  “I must find the other pieces of the gem,” said Rebani curtly. There was no room for doubt or argument in his tone. “I shall do so, with or without your assistance. That is entirely up to you.”

  “Are you sure that’s not the gem talking?” Bal asked indignantly.

  “Yes,” said Rebani without hesitation. “It could not control me if it tried.

  “And I do not believe it is trying.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Bal said, almost under his breath.

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  Abruptly, Josef’s holotronic voice came over the intra-ship speaker system. “We are receiving a transmission from your beacon, sir.”

  The two exchanged glances.

  Bal smiled, baring his teeth, and said, “Let’s go.”

  He ran from the cabin, followed by Rebani.

  They met Josef in the small communications room atop the cockpit.

  “It seems to be coming from the Zherlaan canton,” Josef reported as Bal and Rebani came into the room.

  Bal Tabarin studied the complex instruments for a few moments. “We have a fix on their position,” he announced in a joyful tone. He gestured to one particular display. “Josef, prepare to jump to those co-ordinates.”

  The valet-bot dutifully shuffled away on completely repaired limbs.

  “Hey!” exclaimed Bal, looking at a small read-out.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Rebani, sensing the consternation in his comrade.

  “We’ve lost the signal,” Bal reported. “They found the beacon. Damn!” He looked at Rebani. “They must have detected it when it started transmitting when they came out of H-space. But we know where they are.”

  “Wait,” said Rebani. “They’ll move their base ship. They won’t be there when we arrive.”

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  “You’re right,” admitted Bal. After a moment, he added, hopefully, “Maybe they’ll wait to trap us?”

  “More likely,” answered Rebani grimly, “leave a trap for us.”

  “Have you got a better idea?”

  “No,” admitted Rebani Kalba.

  “Then we’re going to Zherlaan,” said Bal Tabarin.

  14 In Which a Compass

  Finds Its Direction

  The small room was dark but for tiny colored lights floating in the air above a large, dark table that had a convex surface which was dotted with pinpoint lights. Near the door to the chamber, Bal Tabarin and Rebani Kalba stood watching the display. Bal held a small remote control device in one hand.

  “This is the Zherlaan canton,” Bal explained. He pressed a button on the control device, and on an imaginary blackboard on the other side of the room, words appeared, floating in the air close to the “stars”, giving them names. “There’s nothing there.”

  Gesturing to the points of light in the air, Bal continued, “Below average number of systems, with below average number of habitable planets, and those aren’t exactly hospitable. Even Arga Cilus’ money couldn’t make any of them hospitable. You could hardly find a more deserted region if you tried.”

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  The tiny stars moved away from each other as Bal reduced the scale of the holographic map, increasing the visual distances between them. Pointing to empty air between two dots of light, Bal said, “This is where the beacon transmitted from. On an astronomical scale, it never moved, which means the mercenary ship came out of H-space very near its base ship, which, according to Omar Batrachian, is Arga Cilus’ yacht.

  “As you can see, the nearest system is Gonica,” Bal said, gesturing to a glowing yellow-white ball of light. “According to Galactipedia, there are no habitations in the system. That may not mean anything, since Arga Cilus’ ship was presumably never in the system; the beacon never transmitted from there, anyway.”

  The stars shifted toward the right side of the room. When they came to a stop, one was immediately in front of Bal. “This is Baqira, the only habitation in the entire cubit – that’s right, the entire cubit – and it’s an emergency way station.”

  “That would almost be necessary, with no other facilities nearby,” observed Rebani.

  Bal nodded, and said, “Arga Cilus’ ship would almost certainly be better equipped than the way station.

  “Speaking of which, I’ve located deck plans for the model of ship Arga Cilus owns. I also tracked down the ship’s original manifest. That was cycles ago, so the supplies have been used by now, but it does list some unusual items. Judging by the manifest, Arga Cilus seems to have a rare medical condition that requires certain lighting and atmosphere. Nothing dangerous to you or me, but uncommon enough that he’s limited to where he can travel without special equipment. I have a friend digging into Arga Cilus’ medical records, in order to confirm this hypothesis,” Bal added. Shrugging, he explained, “You never know what’s important until it is. We may be able to locate Arga Cilus by the special preparations he has to make planetside.”

  “What if we’re thinking too literally?” asked Rebani. “What if Arga Cilus and his collectors chose this site not because of what’s there, or what isn’t, but for its location?”

  Bal pressed another button, and the tiny stars shrunk as they rushed toward one another until they collided in the middle of the room above the table, and lost their individuality, becoming a single light. Other pinpoints appeared in the recesses of the room, and sped toward the center of it, until the entire Milky Way was displayed in an area no greater than a cubic yard. Rebani noticed that the tabletop was now concave; it had quietly shifted to display the map in the smaller volume.

  In the glowing white miasma, four red pinpricks appeared.

  “These are the locations of the two gems we know of, as well as where the original Sacred Heart was found, and the location from which the beacon transmitted,” Bal explained.

  “I don’t see any pattern,” Rebani said thoughtfully, frowning.

  “No,” agreed Bal, shrugging. “Neither do I. If Arga Cilus chose this location for any reason other than the fact that it’s remote, I can’t see it.”

  “Have you been able to trace the movements of Arga Cilus’ ship?” asked Rebani.

  Bal pressed a stud on his control device, and several green pinpoints appeared in the swirl of white lights. None were suspiciously close to any of the red dots of light.

  “He travels,” observed Rebani Kalba.

  “Unfortunately, Arga Cilus was at the last of these sites over a cycle ago,” Bal pointed out. “It seems that when Arga Cilus discovered he was onto something big, he stopped leaving tracks. And he has deep pockets.”

  Bal glanced at the Sabour. “Or did. Omar Batrachian was telling the truth when he said Arga Cilus has been selling off pieces in his collection. He’s been doing so, discreetly, for the better part of a cycle.”

  Rebani raised an eyebrow in questi
on.

  “A dead end,” answered Bal. “Arga Cilus always sells through a reputable house, using an agent. He never appears in person.”

  “Still, a visit to this agent may be in order,” suggested Rebani.

  “Maybe,” agreed Bal. “Anyway, there seems to be enough circumstantial evidence to support Batrachian’s claim that Arga Cilus is involved in a search for the gems. Tentatively, I’d include Batrachian’s list of others, as well.”

  “Is that it?” asked Rebani in a disappointed tone.

  “I’m afraid that about covers it,” Bal Tabarin said, frowning. He switched off the holographic map, and the white globule of light dimmed, and disappeared. “Precious little, for all our effort.”

  “There’s still Gonica,” said Rebani Kalba as he turned and left the map room.

  On the twenty-second week of the voyage to Gonica, The Vagabond Lady dropped out of hyperspace at the location from which the beacon had transmitted its signal in the outer Perseus Arm; the trip had taken so long because of the passage across the void between arms. Bereft of stars, the ship’s gravity lens had nothing to propel it swiftly.

  In the cockpit, Bal Tabarin watched detector displays. “Nothing,” he announced. “There’s nothing here.”

  Bal looked up from the instrument panel, and found Rebani Kalba gazing out into space through the plasteel canopy of the cockpit. He asked, “What are you doing?”

 

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