Torg grabbed the warrior’s armored limb and twisted sharply. The alien dropped its knife but began to pummel him with its knees, seeking any feasible way to injure the cybrid’s solid body. Focusing on the fight, Torg made the mistake of letting go of the beam that had anchored him to the tower structure.
The result was immediate: the current seized both of them and dragged them away from the large building.
Torg didn’t let himself get distracted. He tightened his grip on the Saharj’s neck. As the cybrid crushed his throat, the alien tried to break free. Bending its legs, it battered Torg’s torso with his heels. The cybrid’s overdeveloped musculature allowed him to weather the blows without too much damage. He continued to strangle the Saharj and soon felt the bones in its protective skeleton break. Gradually, the alien stopped moving and eventually died.
Torg loosened his grip and dropped the corpse. His victory brought him small comfort.
Buffeted by the currents, far from the tower and unable to contact Mallory, he tried to swim in the vain hope of escaping the fate that awaited him: being delivered along with the red liquid into the system’s sun.
Within the tower that controlled the portals, the black columns almost completely obscured Mallory’s sight. The Dva had done an excellent job disconnecting almost all of the wormholes between the belt’s habitats. Only two remained active: one leading to the ship carrying the strange weapon and another being used to empty the sgarfo from the asteroid.
An irregular vibration stuttered through the large building, emphasizing the violence of the tides running through the liquid outside. While the passageway where Mallory stood with the Dva rattled, she became more convinced that Torg was in danger.
Raising her voice over the battered structure’s thrashing, she asked Rupo, “You told me that the red fluid would be discharged into the sun, right?”
The thin alien agreed. The knot of anxiety in Mallory’s stomach became even heavier. “I’m worried the currents will be too strong for Torg!” She swept her right arm in a gesture that encompassed the vast room and the dark energy of columns, adding, “Everything’s shaking. I can’t imagine what it’s like outside. Torg is very good at surviving. I mean, he can even exist in space without a suit. But none of that will help if you project him into the heart of a star! Can’t you do something else with this tomato soup?”
The Dva didn’t answer right away. The limited vocabulary capacity of the translator boxes Jazz had cobbled together had caused it to stumble over the pilot’s words.
“We can only send it through a functioning portal.”
With a groan, Mallory kicked the railing that prevented her from falling into the dark abyss below them. The brambles of her sensitive tattoos twitched like snakes. She turned to Rupo. She had made her decision. “I don’t care. Do what you have to do.”
She knew that sending the Red Sea to the asteroid housing the newly armed Saharj ship was a bad idea. It would have little effect on the enemy ship and might permanently prevent Mallory and the Dva from going there later.
Nevertheless, she couldn’t bring herself to sacrifice Torg. The cybrid was a member of her family, an affectionate big brother. The thought of losing him was unbearable, especially since Laorcq also might not survive. I absolutely have to do something, otherwise I’ll go crazy. I don’t care if it’s stupid!
She watched the little alien with its threadlike body move away to make the change. In her arms, Squish moved to get her attention. Through their telepathic link, she felt a reassuring caress. In a worried voice, she whispered, “I’d like to be as certain as you that they’ll both make it.”
Fifteen million miles from the belt, a fierce battle raged. The Urkein’Naak had engaged a Saharj squadron immediately after arriving in the Jaris system. Despite the swarm of fighters they had launched from their warship, the Vohrn were having trouble compensating for the Saharj vessels’ ability to vanish at will. The small, swift Vohrn fighters with their characteristic diamond-shaped fuselages circled the artificial warriors’ ships but couldn’t reach them: the wide octagonal vessels disappeared whenever a Vohrn vessel came into range.
On the bridge of the cruiser, Hanosk watched two displays showing the confrontation between the two fleets. The Vohrn hadn’t been surprised to find themselves in the Saharj stronghold when they arrived in the Jaris system. Hanosk didn’t know how the artificial warriors and Vassili were connected, but in light of the kidnapping of the humans and the distress signal sent by the Sirgan, he had concluded that there was something going on between them. Then the Saharj had attacked the Urkein’Naak without any attempt to communicate.
Hanosk saw the number of still-active fighters decreasing at an alarming rate, while the losses inflicted on the enemy remained unreasonably low. He turned away from the holograms and approached one of his colleagues, who sat at a console bristling with gray protrusions, making it look like some kind of impossible marine creature. The Vohrn crewmember considered strategies while working the controls with his long fingers.
Hanosk leaned his rostrum toward him. “What are our options?”
“Our opponents’ technical advantage makes us vulnerable in open space. We should recall the ships. After that… Either we retreat and return with reinforcements, or we try to reach the asteroids and destroy the Saharj habitats.”
Hanosk allowed himself a brief moment of reflection. If they retreated, there would probably be nothing left when they returned. Attacking the Saharj base seemed like a good plan, but they couldn’t open fire without knowing where the humans and other prisoners were being held.
The alien’s arms twitched and then froze abruptly as he made his decision. “Recall the fighters and head for the belt. We will wait as long as possible before beginning our bombardment.”
While the fighting raged, a Saharj crew worked busily on their flagship. Tucked into the heart of one of the largest rocks in the belt, its octagonal shape was similar to other ships in the fleet. The thick ring of metal and ceramic alloy was more than a thousand yards wide. The onboard systems came to life one by one as it left the dock.
An eight-sided compartment at the center of the vessel housed the bridge. It was occupied by ten Saharj, each sitting at a console. There was no seat reserved for a “captain.”
The ten Saharj obeyed the gestalt. This entity made all of the decisions, taking all of the individuals into account. It was an absolute democracy in which all major decisions were determined by referendum and where voting only took a split second. The gestalt had, for example, chosen not to suppress the Dvas’ revolt immediately—the shutdown of the portal network could only be their doing—but instead focused on the Vohrn invaders.
Scattered throughout the flagship, a handful of Saharj were trying to perform the tasks normally assigned to the Dva, when a red river gushed through a portal connecting the dock to the belt. Before they could react, the other portals also began to disgorge streams of sgarfo.
The gestalt immediately evaluated the situation. The artificial warriors, thrown off balance by the deactivation of the portals and the Dva uprising, deliberated about the situation. Two major viewpoints emerged.
“Take the ship and evacuate,” some aliens said.
“Destroy the portals,” others said.
Evacuation won the vote. They quickly opened the gate controlling access to the asteroid, thus sacrificing the Saharj still at the dock.
The rock face had barely moved when they realized that they had made the wrong decision: exposure to the void accelerated the velocity of the red torrents, turning them into roaring jets under pressure. The liquid gushed into the huge dock at breakneck speed, chasing the atmosphere into space.
At the ship’s controls, the pilots triggered the ignition sequence for the reactors and the synergetic group. The hangar door was taking too long to open. The interior of the asteroid was completely submerged by the waves. When the sgarfo came into contact with the intense cold of the vacuum of space, it began to freeze.<
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Once the opening was wide enough, the Saharj pointed their ship outward, still hoping to escape from the icy trap closing around them. The ship struggled to pull away from its berth, almost engulfed by the fluid. Its propellers generated turbulence that heated some of the red substance, but contact with the sgarfo eventually led to a malfunction. The thrusters shut down one by one. Completely submerged, the synergetic tube refused to respond.
The gel continued to increase its grip, while the pressure from the interior caused the liquid to snap its coating of ice in places before it froze again.
Trapped between movement and paralysis, the Saharj vessel faltered as it crossed through the opening. Around it, the incredible magma overflowed, daubing the outside of the asteroid like wax dripping down a candle.
Sheltered in the tower of the second portal control node, Laorcq watched the force field that held back the millions of tons of green fluid. The vibrations had diminished. He hoped that Mallory and her crew were safe. He was looking forward to seeing the level drop and, above all, having communications restored.
On the circular walkway, the Dva had gathered to huddle together. They seemed to fear the consequences of their audacity.
Laorcq gazed at them thoughtfully. For the first time in hundreds of years, they had dared to turn against the Saharj. Perhaps they were regretting their decision. There was no guarantee that the humans and Vohrn would be able to free them.
At the top of the passageway, behind the energy field, a ray of light appeared. The sgarfo was ebbing away, too slowly for the veteran’s taste.
Once communications were reestablished, Jazz’s voice rang out from the navcom hanging around Laorcq’s neck. “Finally! I was starting to think I’d never reach anyone.”
Laorcq voiced his concern. “Is Mallory still offline?”
“The first node is emptying more slowly. Some genius came up with the twisted idea of sending its contents to the dock where the Saharj flagship is located! It’s drowning in a kind of soupy strawberry sorbet. I don’t know if it will last…”
Laorcq frowned. Why the change of plan? Torg was supposed to go with the Dva to create a diversion, while he, Mallory, and another Dva team tried to get onboard to sabotage the ship. The chances of success were close to zero, but flooding the dock…
He rubbed his chin mechanically: at first glance, the decision made no sense.
Jazz continued, “At least I have some good news: the Vohrn have finally arrived! Just in time. The Urkein’Naak is heading towards us, and it will be here soon.”
“Warn them about the weapon on the Saharj flagship!”
Jazz adopted an offended tone, “I did think of that, you know. I can’t broadcast to the outside world: I’m trapped inside a giant rock. In fact, I can only communicate with you because the Dva gave me access to the belt’s communications system.”
At Laorcq’s request, Jazz launched into an account of the situation: despite the deactivation of the portals, the Saharj were reorganizing. Many were trapped in the habitats, but a fairly substantial number of their ships had attacked the Urkein’Naak. He described the conditions at the dock where the warriors’ flagship was located in precise detail.
Finally, Jazz added, “I also found out what was bothering the mummies! Our dear friend Vassili! Apparently he and the Saharj had a ‘disagreement.’ He killed a whole bunch of them as he fled. What the Dva did to the portals cost him time. I just found him in the asteroid where his Antarian jet is docked…”
Laorcq responded immediately, “How far?”
“Not very,” said Jazz, “but that doesn’t matter. The only usable portal doesn’t go there, I’ll remind you.”
The Earthling was going to move on to a different subject when an expletive from Jazz filled his ears.
“I took a look at dock’s memory banks. Although I’m not yet fully fluent in the Saharjs’ language, I’m sure a stasis chamber containing a living being was loaded aboard the jet a day or two ago.”
The significance was obvious to Laorcq. “Alrine. That freak Vassili’s going to take off with her!”
He hastened toward the Dva. The aliens stared at him from clusters of small yellow eyes.
“I need your help. I have to go through one of the disconnected habitat portals.”
The Dva fluttered on their four flexible limbs. They were disturbed by this last-minute change. One of them left the group and stood facing Laorcq. He tipped his stick-shaped body backward to better address the man, who was almost twice as tall as he, and said, “The portals have been deactivated, as you requested. Reactivating one would be difficult and time-consuming.”
The scarred man tried to contain his growing impatience. “Is there no other way to get around the belt? A backup or a maintenance system?”
The Dva opened and closed his tiny hands. “This node contains the only alternative. It houses the…” The navcom stuttered briefly, stumbling over a new word. “…the pods, but they are designed for the Dva. I’m not sure that a human will fit inside.”
Laorcq’s response was immediate. “Take me to the nearest one! We’ll see when we get to it.”
Outside, the colorful sea had completely disappeared. Laorcq and the Dva moved forward on the pontoon and descended cautiously. The alien jumped onto a floor as smooth as a marble slab. Initially surprised by his speed, Laorcq started following him at a run.
Fatigue was threatening to get the better of Laorcq when they reached an extremely tall cliff. This huge wall marked the boundary of the previously flat expanse that had been covered by the green liquid. Far behind them stood the tower topped by the strange black sphere.
While the man caught his breath, the Dva tapped on a rocky outgrowth. He stopped suddenly and sprang back. Before him, a whole section of the wall disintegrated, revealing a narrow passage threading through the asteroid’s crust.
Laorcq stooped and entered, following the Dva. After a few yards, the light suddenly dimmed: the doorway behind them had just closed.
They entered a tiny space overlooking an airlock. It opened to reveal the inside of a ridiculously small cabin.
Laorcq approached it and looked in. The two L-shaped seats were just eight inches wide. The ceiling was no more than three feet high.
He sighed: even two Dva would feel cramped in there!
The alien startled him by sneaking past him and slipping inside the pod. He then turned to manipulate three levers at the bases of the seats.
The cushions descended as far as possible, followed by the backs. The upholstery deformed, flattening into the floor and ending up looking like two long boards.
Laorcq thanked him as he got into the tiny vessel. “Good job!”
Leaving as much room as possible for the Dva, he wedged his six-foot-frame into the cramped compartment and asked the alien his name. The latter responded with an endless series of sounds.
Following Mallory’s lead, Laorcq decided to shorten his companion’s name to two syllables: Delvo.
Delvo positioned himself in front of the utility vehicle’s controls, and his thirty-two fingers began tapping away feverishly on a spherical keyboard with round keys. The airlock closed, and the undocking procedure was punctuated by a brief jolt.
Now they just had to get to Vassili’s ship before he triggered his synergetic system.
XXIV
TUBE
WHEN the force field disappeared with a last flicker, Mallory left the tower with unrestrained impatience. Unfortunately, the jufinol’s bad feeling was confirmed: there was no trace of Torg.
All around her, the huge red surface stretched out of sight. Since not all of the liquid had drained through the wormhole, the stagnant remainder covered the floor of the hollow asteroid with an ankle-high pond.
One by one, the Dva rejoined the human on the pontoon where she stood. With dark eyes, she peered around as if she could force her bodyguard to appear by sheer force of will.
The navcom necklace she wore vibrated, making her almost
jump. She touched it, and a familiar voice rang out immediately.
“Captain! I thought I lost you for good. Who had the stupid idea of sending the whole Red Sea to the flagship’s hangar?”
“Me,” Mallory said tersely.
Embarrassed, Jazz stammered, “But… Well… You realize how unlikely it was that that would stop the ship? The probability…”
“That wasn’t the point,” she interrupted. “Torg was carried away by the current. I wasn’t going to let him end up in the heart of the sun.”
Jazz remained uncharacteristically silent for nearly ten seconds. With an unusually hesitant tone, he continued, “Ah, that’s why the big hairy guy didn’t answer. You think he’s…”
He didn’t dare to finish his sentence. Despite their constant bickering, the two very different beings had developed a degree of mutual respect. Their frequent and shared concern for her provided a common denominator.
More to convince herself than out of certainty, Mallory growled, “No. He’s definitely still alive. He must be stuck somewhere in the iceberg that formed around the Saharj ship. The Dva and I will head out there to sabotage the synergetic tube. We should be able to pick up Torg then.”
“And how do you plan to accomplish this dual feat? You’ll gnaw at the ice with your teeth, find the big hairy guy with your little nose, and destroy an alien ship by stealing one or two screws?”
She smiled wryly: even when the situation was desperate, Jazz remained true to himself.
“According to Rupo, the sgarfo near the doors that are still working is liquid. Squish will help me find Torg. As for the synergetic group, I’m counting on you and the Dva.”
“Do I need to remind you that you’re not great at freediving?”
She shrugged. “I don’t have a choice…”
The conversation over, Mallory and her troupe marched at double-time to the nearest portal. The little aliens moved with ease through the giant pond. Behind them, Mallory’s brisk walk generated scarlet sprays and splashing noises.
Aldebaran Divided Page 24