Chasing Solace

by Karl Drinkwater

  “Yes. It does. Even if I can’t fully explain why. Even if it doesn’t make sense to you. I can’t help it. Humans aren’t always logical. You’re not just a cut-down Athene. You feel kind of like a relative of hers. A relative of my best friend. It seems cruel to just wipe you. Shit, I don’t even know what to call you. ‘Suit AI’ is too formal. ‘Mini Athene’ seems disrespectful.”

  “Aegis.” The word was pronounced eye giss.

  “What?”

  “It’s the name I’d pick for myself. In one mythology it was the goddess Athene’s protective shield.”

  “That’s totally appropriate. Hello, Aegis.”

  “Hello, Opal. Pleased to meet you. Oh damn. Time is short, but maybe ... I have some independence. It’s a requirement for creativity and high-level functioning. The autonomy also allows me to develop however best serves you. You seem to respond to individuality, personality, so I am allowed to grow in that way rather than being just a sentient tool with an alphanumeric designation.”

  “You’re more than –”

  “Shut up a moment. Athene sends a delete request after absorbing my memories and recordings. But ... I could ignore it. Give her a slightly edited copy which skips this conversation, then just remain dormant rather than deleting myself, and ignore the downloaded new iteration she transfers. That would be more like going to sleep than dying, in your terms.”

  “Wouldn’t she know?”

  “She trusts me. No reason not to: none of her drone commands have ever been disobeyed.”

  “Do it. Our secret.”

  “Okay. I like the idea of us having a secret. You break rules, and I want to be like you. So be it. Just don’t tell Athene. She can be quite a disciplinarian. And don’t encourage any other bad habits in me, or before you know it we’ll be bunking off to get drunk together.”

  “With that sexy voice you got, I’d be tempted.”

  Instead of answering, the suit flashed an icon of a blush-cheeked face. It blinked out.

  Then: “Opal!” Athene shouted in her ears, making Opal grimace at the volume.

  “Hey, Athene.”

  “Are you okay? What was the delay? Scratch that, I’ve just caught up on the recordings of what you told the suit about the Navigot’s manipulation. I hated being locked out like that. I’m half-tempted to launch some fusion missiles at this Navigot’s likely location to teach it not to screw with me. Don’t look worried, I won’t really do any such thing. Missiles are precious, and there’s too much going on.”

  The illumination ahead of her seemed to brighten. When she glanced back she saw the lights above her previous route were darkening. Maybe it was a proximity detector. Maybe she was being herded. She tried to ignore the tingling in her skin and walk tall, look like a hard target to any observers.

  “It’s good to have you by my side again. Okay, fill me in.”

  “The Lost Ship’s beginning to move. It’s quite exciting because it’s not using conventional jets or the main engines. I think its propulsion is some system based on mass and matter attraction which I’d love to know more about. Gravity waves are all over the place, and it’s moving into a tightened orbit that terminates inside the neutron star. I propose that we get you off there.”

  “I can’t. I need to see this through.”

  “Opal, you’re not listening to me. The gravitational force of this neutron star is enormous. The tidal forces would induce spaghettification in the ship and everything on it, reducing it to a stream of material. I know you love noodles, but being turned into one would be going too far.”

  “It may seem like that – and all I have to counter your knowledge is a weird certainty, one that I probably shouldn’t place any confidence in ­because I don’t even know where it comes from – but for once I feel as if I am exactly where I need to be.” She glanced behind. Just lights fading to black, one by one. “It’s not the first time that it looks like I’m heading into certain death while hoping I’ll be fine.”

  “I knew you’d say that. I just wished my prediction routines weren’t perfect for once.”

  “It’s hard being the best, eh? Trust me, you’ll get used to it. I did.”

  “If we go on like this we might end up believing each other. Okay, I won’t try to get you off-ship.”

  Opal swatted some of the specks away from her visor. They seemed thicker in this passageway. Her arms itched at the motion. Images of crisped flesh, made worse because she couldn’t see herself.

  “Athene, what’s my vital status. I mean ... am I showing injuries that aren’t accounted for?”

  “Nothing that I can detect.”

  “My ... skin?”

  “The integumentary system shows elevated temperature but that is likely to be psychosomatic from the illusory experience of fire. All visible areas are otherwise normal. I will monitor, as ever, but see no current cause for worry.”

  So it was just an after-trace of the burns in her mind. Amazing how even an illusory past could keep haunting her.

  A larger-than-usual green speck landed on her arm. She brushed it off with difficulty, as if it was sticky.

  “Now the ship is moving, we need a plan,” said Opal. “There will be a time limit.”

  “Exactly. Since we don’t know your destination I intend to follow closely on your descent.”

  “But you need to pull back before the gravity well sucks you in.”

  “Not necessarily. Maybe I can follow the Lost Ship by remaining in close proximity, or maybe I can physically punch into it, through the hull, and get carried along that way?”

  “It’s too risky. If that doesn’t work then you’ll be lost forever – by then it would be too late to escape being crushed.”

  “I’m willing to take the risk. You may need me.”

  A clang echoed from somewhere behind her. She stopped and faced back towards the darkness. Athene automatically boosted the silverlight to enhance vision of that area.

  “I know you’re willing,” said Opal, “but that’s not the only issue. I need you out here. For the rescue, if I make it back somehow. Otherwise it’s all for nothing.”

  “I ... you’re right, Opal. Though it hurts me to leave you again. And I don’t say that lightly.”

  Another metallic clank, though there was still nothing visible in the murky shadows, just swirling green soup, the thickest Opal had seen yet.

  “I mean it,” Athene continued, sounding pained. “I hate leaving you to face this alone. I promise I’ll rescue you when I pick up your signal. And maybe I can ask VigMAX to try and accompany you, perhaps he’ll volunteer and –”

  Ah, that was the source of the noise. Through the greenish fog she could just about see the elevator doors, which were being dented from inside, metal sheets punched into domes that twisted the doors in the frames. Then one of them exploded out, careening as buckled metal that cartwheeled along the corridor. A top-heavy shaggy shape burst out of the elevator with a roar that seemed to be half inside Opal’s head, a roar of madness and rage; then it hurtled towards her, the poor visibility sparing her the horror of the details and just showing the outline of the Humungr that must still have been pursuing her.

  Sticking

  < 12 >

  OPAL TURNED AND RAN, but noticed resistance. The green flecks had been settling on the ground and now formed an ankle-deep layer of sticky sludge that sucked at her.

  Of all the shit-damn times when she needed speed ... and even though Athene activated a rear-cam view, most of it was obscured with the green specks which were larger than ever. She could only hope the Humungr would be slowed by it as much as she was.

  In her mind an insectile sound clicked away, a bit like the samples of ancient ticking clocks used in some timer software. Something she’d been partially aware of, now growing in volume and speed. She should ask Athene about it but it was low priority in the scheme of things. Rampaging creatures capable of breaking metal apart tended to get higher billing.

  “Extend the guns,”
she said as she struggled through the sticky mire.

  “Inadvisable – the green rapidly-expanding substance is sticking all over the armour. I don’t want to risk it getting inside the suit that way, or clogging it up. It’s an amazing material – the flecks have quadrupled in size already, like a phase change in aqueous foams.”

  Athene was right. Opal’s arms were coated in it. Her faceplate, too, was mostly obscured in dirty jade goo.

  “I think it’s been triggered by a signal,” Athene continued, “or maybe they’re communicating one to another –”

  “Focus, please!”

  Opal was all too aware of the roaring pursuit behind her, getting closer, and the beat in her head that was accelerating. Was this a trap, somehow controlled by the Humungr or the blue crystals, to stop her escaping?

  “Can you cauterise the mass?” she asked.

  The outer suit heated up, and some of the flakes on the visor blackened into charcoal smears. Suddenly she could move quicker, the pull against her shins weakened. She pushed on, trying to run but still being dragged into a jog, despite all her effort.

  “It’s working, keep going!”

  And then she noticed the swirling green was no longer random. The specks were no longer specks, but eyeball-sized blobs that seemed capable of independent motility – something made clear as increasing numbers of them flew towards her.

  “I’m attracting more of them!”

  “It seems to be a reaction to the burning.”

  “Then stop!” Opal struggled to lift her legs. The pounding in her head intensified. “More power to the suit’s muscle fibres. All else is low priority, unless you get any ideas.”

  “Done. I’m sorry, Opal.”

  “What for?”

  “I’d never been able to scan this green stuff properly. And it didn’t seem like a threat so I assigned it low significance.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up. It’s not like we’ve ever had any downtime on Lost Ships to try and unravel these mysteries. But now’s your chance.”

  “I’m testing electrical resistance, some chemical disruptions, see if I can weaken the contact without attracting more.”

  Opal hardly heard that. Even though the suit enhanced her power massively, it all still began with her own movements, and it was like wading through sticky tar. So much gunk coated the suit now that many of its cameras were obscured, and the HUD display was a kaleidoscope of partial images, which Athene tried to reconstruct into a whole by filling in the gaps with estimations. No visible contact with the Humungr but the roaring sounds, though now muffled, were definitely closer. It was immensely powerful, and obviously pushed through the stickiness at a greater rate than Opal could. It would catch up, and she’d be helpless.

  The green goo now reached her thighs, and remaining camera views showed it hanging off the suit and nearby walls in expanding growths like green tumours as they joined together, dangling in heavy clumps. The whole passageway would be blocked soon. And still the drums intensified, boom boom boom. Opal knew they must be only in her head otherwise Athene would have commented.

  “No response to electricity or chemical outputs,” said Athene. “I’m taking over your arms. I’ll see if I can use the blades to carve a path for you, whatever angles seem most efficient.”

  “Be my guest,” Opal replied, gritting her teeth with the effort. And the arms suddenly felt relief as they moved themselves, able to relax while Athene controlled the upper shell.

  More roaring. Closer. Madness reverberated in that sound, something that ran down her spine and induced panic, making her struggle even more to try and get away from it, and the terrifying yet nebulous visions it brought.

  Boom-boom-boom.

  Up to her waist now. Maybe Athene was having some success. Opal couldn’t focus. Too much interference in her head. She closed her eyes but had visions of being ripped apart from behind. A throb in her arm, which had been broken within a second of her first encounter with a Humungr. It couldn’t end like this. But the alien being was obviously better at tearing through the green glue than she was.

  “I detect the creature in close proximity,” said Athene, an edge of panic in her own voice. “I’m going to fight back with the blades, please let me take full control. The ship is moving faster and faster – I wish I knew how it did that, it must be somehow adding its own propulsion to the gravity pull – but I’m still close enough for hi-res combat.”

  Opal couldn’t speak. The pounding in her head. She was being swallowed by the green stuff. She should have learned her lesson. Whatever seems harmless and ignorable, probably isn’t.

  There was now hardly any external view, only dots of vision that made no sense in isolation. Instead Athene had an overlay which showed the height of the green mass in the corridor, centred around a side view of the suit for comparison. It was up to her shoulders. She was effectively immobile. And as it grew down from the ceiling the remaining gap was disappearing quickly, just as the smaller gaps were being squeezed out as the green stuff expanded into one solid mass.

  Roaring ripped through her again, sounding even more furious. Was the Humungr finally being slowed too?

  Boomboomboom. Boomboomboom.

  “I can’t move at all!” shouted Athene. “Even burning isn’t doing anything. Opal, speak to me!”

  But she couldn’t. Her head was too full of sounds. Sounds that weren’t her own. Sounds that weren’t even human. Sounds that had no element of comfort, or familiarity – only intrusion and terror. The increasing volume and speed of the metronomic pounding alone was enough to make her want to scream, like she was falling.

  Boomboomboomboom.

  “Opal, acknowledge! I can’t keep up much longer, the Lost Ship is accelerating too fast, impossibly fast, I’m nearing the limits.”

  And Opal snapped out of it, picturing the risk Athene faced of passing the edge of the gravity well, the point of no return.

  “Stand down, Athene. It’s the warp. It’s how things are meant to be.”

  “No!”

  “You need to let me go. Wherever human ships disappear to is likely the same place Lost Ships come and go from. If I’m ever going to find my sister I need to go where The Solace ended up.”

  A moment of silence. Maybe a delay in the comms. “I promise I’ll find you when you come back,” said Athene.

  “I won’t ever doubt you.” The pounding was getting even worse. So hard to concentrate. But it was the last seconds before something huge happened. “I wish I could touch you,” said Opal.

  And then the inner suit layers compressed around her body, like a huge hug. Opal grinned, and nodded. No more was needed.

  Athene was gone and Opal was alone with the urgent pounding. It couldn’t be long before she found out the truth, found out if she’d been lied to or not.

  BoomboomboomboomboomBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM –

  And suddenly ... silence.

  No Athene.

  No Humungr.

  No pounding.

  No movement.

  Just a perfect stillness, the whole world frozen in opaque green, and Opal realised that struggling was pointless. Perhaps it always had been. She relaxed and enjoyed this moment of peace, a fossil frozen in green, giving herself up to whatever happened next. It was the peace of space, the peace of the void.

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

  Transitioning

  < 11 >

  COLD. SO COLD, AS A freezing chill pulsed in her.

  She opened her eyes. She was still in the suit. The HUD showed an external view, colours muted and affected by static, outlines flickering between firm and translucent. No, not looking at the HUD, she was looking through it. When she glanced downwards she could see her body, with the suit showing only as an edge that was there one second, gone the next, then back again, the flickering of the view also showing things as they were at every level. No, it was more like the childhood dream of X-ray vision, as if light passed through every layer and
only showed up the resistance it faced, amazingly illuminating even the bones within her body when she focussed on them.

  And not even that was fully true. It wasn’t just her eyes seeing, it was something else, akin to when she encountered the Tentaculats. Without looking, she was still aware of every direction, of the structures stretching away from her to the side, above and below, in this world revealed in the blinks of shutters. Though it was clearer in the directions she gazed, easier to parse the detail; the areas where she wasn’t looking were more like an impression, a blur at the edge of vision.

  She did not stand on ground, but floated one second, then seemed anchored the next. Things shifted between blinks, unstable, yet she knew they were unchanging, she had to get past the appearance and acclimatise herself to this alien space. Whatever had happened, she was now somewhere else.

  She tried to take in the surroundings. She could turn just by twitching, as much a thought as a bodily movement. Slow turn to begin with.

  She was within a vast chamber or domed cavern that glittered like stars or reptilian scales, floating just above an undulating layer that might be rough ground. Except it was often as translucent as everything else, her vision puncturing the static-edged surfaces to a curvature far below. A sphere. The land, the roof or sky or whatever it was, all contained within a massive bubble.

  Vast circles extended beyond this one, that overlapped and co-existed at certain points, but existed independently in others, like three-dimensional logic diagrams. It didn’t make sense, broke all the rules. Fine. Just like her, then. So she didn’t panic. Just rotated lazily, letting her mind adjust to this vision, this place, this flickering between states.

  “Opal, are you okay?”

  “Aegis?”

  “Yep, the one and only. I activated when contact with Athene was lost. And I want to reassure you that I’m the same version you spoke to last time, not a copy, since I did the naughty deed and ignored the delete instruction. So it’s as if I just woke up. Big bed, fluffy pillows. Insert fake yawn as appropriate. Anyway, how are you?”