*
A short trip through the west passage later, and they made it to the Plant. It was a grandiose place, looking like a cross between a large swimming pool and an oil refinery. Several large pipes ran from the walls to the pool, where hundreds of smaller tubes took the purified water to other parts of the Station. Across the desalination pool, a thin bridge had been suspended, allowing access to the other side of the room, where the exit lay.
“Great, flowing water and a thin bridge. I really don’t want to go in there…”
“Well, that doesn't look ominous at all.” Barsch's sarcastic comment was ignored, as Kingston and Maloch made their way towards the pool. Alza had chosen to guard the entrance, in case Guardian tried to seal the ways out of the room.
As Kingston and Maloch approached the thin bridge, the old man asked, “What do you think? Could it be a trap?”
“I am not sure. Guardian has already outsmarted me once, so I would not trust my judgement fully. However, even if it is a trap, we have no other way forward but to cross. We shall just have to prepare for the worst-case scenario.”
“I agree,” then, to Alza and Barsch, “Everyone, we are going to cross, be on your guard!”
After running a final check on the bridge, which was little more than a lengthened steel plank supported on both sides by cables, they began to cross. Alza took the lead, followed by Maloch, as both of their abilities were suited for long-range confrontations, which would be the most likely scenario in the event of an attack. Kingston came third, followed by Barsch, who would guard against any rear attacks.
Despite the seemingly easy task of crossing the thirty-foot bridge, Barsch could not shake the feeling of dread, which had refused to leave since he had first entered the room. They had not had any luck with large bodies of water recently, and he felt that two such occurrences in two days was pushing their luck to the limit.
“Luck? What luck? Since I've been unfrozen, I've been dragged up mountains, bashed by storms, hurled into the sky, crashed into deserts... Come to think of it, aren't we actually facing a bit too much? I mean, travelling from Genesis Station to Carçus, and then from the desert to here, should have been a pretty easy journey.”
For a while his gaze rested on his companions. A hermit with a soldier’s soul who had years of wisdom to rely on; a re-mech that could stand-in for a small army if he had to; and a teenage girl who could destroy said re-mech with a flick of her wrist. With all three together, their journey should have been a breeze.
“With the sheer amount of things that we have gone through, it makes me think… What if something or someone is intentionally putting us in dangerous situations? The madman? Don't really know what he's like, so I guess he's a wild-card. Ion and Terra? Maybe, they did seem to think that we weren't prepared enough to face what was coming, but I don't think that they were behind everything... So who? Who else could be doing this to us? And, more importantly, why?”
As it turned out, it was Barsch, stopping for a quick reflection, that saved them all. As he looked up -foot posed to take its first step across the bridge, where the others had just reached the half-way point- the unthinkable happened. With a great creaking and rattling, the pipes leading into the pool exploded, sending thousands of gallons of highly-pressurized water into the small lake. The torrent of water that rushed forth created a massive pressure wave, which transformed the still, calm pool into a violent vortex of pressure and energy. Waves taller than a grown man formed and broke, each one larger than the last.
As the torrent of water stabilized, the waves finally synchronized, creating a singular, unstoppable wave. Without a moment to prepare, the mega-wave crashed into the exposed bridge, sending its occupants flying through the air. In mid-flight, the wave caught them once more, crushing them under its almighty force. There were no screams of surprise, no howls of pain. In that instant, existence changed: from a world where Kingston, Alza and Maloch were safely on the bridge; to a world where they were not.
Barsch stood there, his eyes still not believing what had just happened. His brain was in a state of shock. Everything felt wrong. It was as if he could simply close his eyes, and everything would be fine when he opened them again. A heartbeat later, it was the voice, the cruel, taunting voice, which shook him from his shock.
“Three out of four... not perfect, but it will do. So, solitary human male, do you want to hear how I did it? Or would you prefer to suffer in silence, until I come down there and finish you off myself? Hmm... That’s strange... I'm picking up five energy signatures? Well, even if there was another one of you hiding somewhere, it won't matter. Soon, you will be taken care of, and I will be able to return to my children... my precious, sleeping children... Anyway, enjoy your remaining time... or not... I don't really care either way.”
As quickly as it came, the voice was gone. Finally freed from his shock, Barsch scrambled over to the pool, where the water was still crashing about. With fear in his eyes, he began to search for any sign of his friends. However, no tell-tale bubbles broke the surface, and no light shined forth from the depths. Since the wave had hit, he could not remember how many seconds it had been. How long could they hold their breath? Taken by surprise, unable to prepare, Barsch could not help but think of the worst-case scenario. Even if Maloch had somehow managed to stay with them, he would never be able to drag both them and his heavy body from the pool's deep floor. Barsch was the only one able to do anything. He was the only one who could save them.
“But how? There's no way I can find them in time, let alone get them back up here. If only I could somehow drain the water, then at least they would be able to breath... but, Maloch is the one who knows about things like this. If I don't do it properly, I could make the situation worse! What can I do? Please! Somebody, anybody, help me!”
In that moment of panic, Barsch remembered Guardian's taunt. “Five energy signatures? Ion? Terra? No, they would not come here just for this, so...”
“SPECTRE! Please, I know you're there! Help me! If I don't save them, then our journey will end here, and the madman will win!”
With a small, anti-climactic pop, Spectre appeared above the pool. It was bright red, with smaller black ribbons of energy orbiting it's gaseous body. It constantly changed size, as if reality could not remember how big it was supposed to be. After a few seconds, it seemed to settle into a range: somewhere between the size of a fist and the size of a small child. It levitated above the water's surface, which was still suffering the after-effects of its recent trauma.
Even though the strange creature had appeared, Barsch was at a loss. He had never before tried to directly converse with the thing that now floated before him, and he was still unsure as to whether or not it could understand him. He could remember Maloch once saying something about how it communicated using size and colour, but Barsch could not remember the re-mech's exact words. Deciding to go for a simple gesture, he first pointed at the turbulent pool, then at himself, and then at Spectre. Holding up three fingers to symbolise his three lost comrades, he proceeded to simulate drowning, all the while hoping that his charade's would somehow get through to the spirit.
Frustratingly, Spectre did not budge an inch, while Kingston and Alza's time continued to tick down. Barsch wanted to shout, to scream at the unresponsive creature, but he knew that doing so would be futile. Instead, he tried his gestures one more time, placing more emphasis on each movement than before. When this too failed, he resorted to re-enacting the scene, with wide, sweeping gestures to imitate the crashing waves and a flailing motion to signify Kingston and Alza's predicament. However, there was no response at all to this new method.
Finally, at wit's end and out of ideas, Barsch resorted to a method that he would not have used unless it was the absolute last possible chance. Closing his eyes, he stretched out his hand, towards Spectre's hovering body. In his mind, he tried to picture the void, slowly filling in the multi-coloured spheres and the dim stars in the back-ground. “This thing, t
his Spectre, if its connected to the Avatars, then perhaps it can enter my dreams too. If I can return to that place, the world of dreams, then maybe I can communicate with it... This is my last chance, I have to save them!”
The void was unstable, as if it could sense that it was a fake, a copy of the real thing, but it held. With his mind prepared, Barsch began to reach out, towards the only thing that could save his friends. He did not know how he did it, and he would not have been able to explain if asked, but somehow, he felt Spectre's mind. At first he was shocked by how alien it seemed, a jumble of emotions, impulses and instincts. But, as he probed deeper, into the multi-coloured cloud that was Spectre's sub-conscious, things became clearer. He could tell what the colours meant, and he could see the patterns emerge from the seemingly random colour-changes.
Into the strange yet understandable mind, Barsch projected a single, clear thought, “Help me save them!” As the thought rebounded through Spectre's mind, the chaotic colours began to change. The myriad clouds of red, blue, yellow, and every other colour imaginable began to solidify, into a single, dominant shade. Barsch, still linked to the creature's thoughts, watched in amazement as its mind became golden. Amber light, so bright it was almost blinding, filled his vision, it's warmth spreading into the void, dispelling it.
In an explosion of golden light, the void was banished, along with the dreamspheres. Barsch's eyes snapped open, half-expecting to see Spectre glowing yellow. The other half of him expected to find things exactly as before, his final gamble turning out to be nothing more than a despair-induced hallucination. Thankfully, his more optimistic half turned out to be right, as he gazed in wonder at Spectre's golden form. The gaseous orb had swelled in size and luminosity, forcing Barsch to shield his eyes from its radiance. Slowly, bit by bit, the light faded, leaving behind a very golden Spectre. After shrinking to a smaller size, the spirit took off, towards the other side of the room.
As he ran off after the mysterious creature, Barsch's mind wandered. “How... how did I do that? It was like... I could read his mind... no, it was like I was in his mind, and he was in mine. But all I did was imagine the void! The void, and those spheres that show people's dreams. What is that place? I don't think I've ever heard of it before, and I'm sure I've never seen it before the Great Sleep. So, it must either be something new, that appeared after I met Alza and Kingston or, it's something hidden, and I've somehow found a way to see it. Either way, I won't be able to find out anything more here. After I rescue everyone, I'll ask Alza or Kingston about it.”
Seconds later, Barsch caught up with the elusive will-o-wisp. It was hovering over a solitary valve, which in turn was connected to a large pipe that was labelled, “EMERGENCY DRAINAGE”.
“Is this it? Will this save them?” he asked, hoping that Spectre would get the gist of his message. In response, the ever-changing creature swelled to a great size, while turning a bright shade of red. Taking it as an affirmation, Barsch planted his feet and tried to turn the valve. Even though it was coated in a thick layer of rust, his all-out exertion had a noticeable effect. Little by little, the valve began to turn, before picking up speed.
After the valve reached its end point, Barsch collapsed to the floor, his legs no longer able to support his weight. Behind him, in the finally still pool, something was happening. Slipping Lanista out of its make-shift harness, he stood. The blade, as had been proven before, made a moderately effective crutch. Using a weapon of violence as a walking aid sounded like quite a turn of fate, but Barsch was happy to find a use for it that did not involve bloodshed. With practised steps, he quickly made his way back to the pool, where the something turned out to be the opening of the emergency sluice gates. As they had been designed, they funnelled the water out of the pool at a remarkable speed.
As the water drained, Barsch was greeted by another strange sight. A violet dome, rising out of the water like a new continent. Inside it's semi-transparent shield, Barsch was overjoyed to see Kingston, Alza and Maloch. Even though their forms were obscured by the barrier, he was sure they were uninjured. As he watched, the barrier dissolved, allowing him an unrestricted view of his friends. Understandably, they all looked battered and weary, but they were alive, and that was all that mattered.
“Alza, Kingston, Maloch, are you okay?”
Alza slumped to her knees, trying to catch her breath. Holding up the barrier for such a long time, under so much pressure, must have been a huge energy drain for her. After she had regained her composure, she looked up, towards the voice which had called her name. Almost twenty feet above her, Barsch was kneeling at the edge of the pool, a wide, relieved grin plastered across his face. Beside him, a luminous ball of gas danced through the air.
Before she had a chance to speak, Kingston called out, “We're fine m'boy... a little wet, but alive!” Kingston looked at his drying companions, noting Alza's weariness. When the wave had knocked them off the bridge, it had been her quick thinking that had saved them. In a split-second, just before they impacted with the water's surface, she had created a sphere of energy, protecting them from the wave’s concussive force. However, they had been trapped at the bottom of the pool, the sheer pressure of the water slowly cracking Alza's shield. If Barsch had not done whatever it was he did, they most certainly would have perished.
“Barsch, what exactly did you do? How did you drain the water?”
Barsch opened his mouth to answer, ready to explain about Guardian's taunt, and Spectre's appearance, but something made him stop. “If I tell him about how I entered Spectre's mind, he might think that something is wrong with me. I've seen how he looks at Alza, when she uses that weird power of hers. Will he look at me with those same eyes? No, I don't want that...”
“Um... well, you see... all of you were in trouble, so I called out, and Spectre happened to be there, and he somehow knew what I wanted, so he led me to the emergency drainage valve...”
Kingston took a minute to process the boy's words, his old mind still fast enough to pick up on a badly told lie. There were inconsistencies in what Barsch had said, like how he had just happened to be nearby, and how it had understood him so clearly, but he did not say anything. The boy would have had a good reason for keeping the truth from him, and, since no-one was seriously injured, he was willing to let it go.
“I see, well, good job m'boy! Your quick thinking saved us, so, thank you. Now, it looks like there is a ladder leading up to the far side of the pool, so why don't you cross the bridge and meet us on the other side. While Barsch did so, Kingston turned and surveyed the pool floor. It had been a clever trap, overloading the pipes with pressure and creating a miniature tsunami, and it would have worked perfectly, had Barsch been with them when they crossed. “We have to be more careful, Guardian can use every aspect of this Station against us.” After checking on Maloch, they found the ladder and climbed up.
“Well, that was harrowing,” said Barsch, once they had all reached the exit.
“With any luck, Guardian will think that he got us, and he'll leave us alone,” he said, when his first comment was ignored.
Kingston looked at the ruined, half-flooded room, and said, “That would be perfect, but I don't think it will happen. Guardian is wired into every inch of this place, so I'm sure it's only a matter of time before we trip one of his sensors and alert him to our survival. But, until then, we move with caution.”
With Kingston's wise words hanging over their heads, they left the water treatment plant, and continued down the western route. The corridor was exactly the same as before, but even if anything had changed, everyone was too tired to notice. Maloch took the lead, with Alza behind him and Barsch, Kingston and a pebble-sized Spectre bringing up the rear. It was a quiet journey, as no-one had any energy to waste on talking.
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