Ammonite Planets (Omnibus): Ammonite Galaxy #1-3 (99 page)

About five minutes later he heard shuffling sounds behind him. He was lying on one side, facing away from her, and felt her as she moved over to fit her long body against his back, slipping her left hand under his neck and her right hand over him. He lay in the dark, enjoying the slight heat from her contact, a small smile on his face. At first, she lay stiffly against him, and then, as she began to feel a little warmer, she relaxed, and he could almost feel it as she drifted off into a semi-sleep. He covered her hand with his own, and lay awake in the darkness. He would not close his eyes. It was not a hospitable place for both of them to sleep.

BACK ON THE ship, Grace was pulled awake from a deep sleep by some feeling of impending doom. She slid off the day couch beside the main console and stared at the controls. There was nothing untoward there. She looked around the empty ship with a worried frown. Something had woken her up.

Then it hit her. Of course – the visitor! There must be something wrong with the connection between Arcan and the Dessites! She flung herself towards the hold, towards the visitor’s little ship. Whatever was wrong, she would stop it. There was no way that she was leaving Arcan alone in front of a whole world of category 2a aliens! Not while there was anything she could do to prevent it.

The feeling became stronger as she reached the small spaceship. She knew that there was something very, very wrong with things. She could feel the distress emanating from the spaceship, knew that in some way Arcan was being attacked by the distant aliens, knew that he was in deep, deep trouble and unable to extricate himself from their mental control. She could feel his pain; he was being held in a vice of mental anguish and agony which incapacitated him. Yet it was not Arcan who had called her; it was the visitor. He was still in control of his own mind; she could feel him.

Suddenly one of the tiny video cameras appeared beside her, whirring wildly.

“WHAT?” she shouted. “What must I do?”

“They are holding the orthogel entity, they have trapped his mind. He was not able to make true contact with them, but they knew who he was immediately, and they joined together to try to take control of his will. He cannot get through to them, but they think that they can get through to him. It is all a question of non-locality. They dominate it, and he doesn’t. If we don’t break the connection they will destroy his mind. You must do something!”

Grace’s eyes were desperately looking at the ship in front of her.

“WHAT? What can I do? TELL ME!”

“You have to destroy the ship. NOW!” The tiny globe stuttered with static as it spoke.

“That will kill you both! I can’t do that!”

“NO! Arcan will be saved. The connection will be broken as soon as the ship explodes! I will be extinguished and Dessia will have no choice but to withdraw from the orthogel entity.”

“But it will KILL you!”

“Yes. But it will save the orthogel entity. Arcan will be safe. He can transport away, and will do so automatically. If you don’t do this we will all die, and so will Six and Diva back on the planet.”

“I can’t! I can’t kill you. Don’t ask me to do this!” Tears were forming in Grace’s eyes.
 

“You must! It is the only hope of saving any of us. You know I am dead anyway! What difference does it make how? You HAVE to do this, Grace, PLEASE!”

Grace felt an immense chill of certainty sweep over her, and her head slumped in despair. “What do you want me to do?” she asked it in the absolute calm of somebody who was acting like an automaton.

“You must get my ship away from the Independence, and then destroy it! Quickly! Arcan is holding his own, but I can feel him weakening, and if you don’t do this very soon, his mind will be overrun by Dessites. HURRY!”

Grace’s blood had run cold at the thought of what she was supposed to do, but she managed to throw herself back along the corridors of the Independence and slide back into the control seat. She began to hit buttons with the fingers she still had, ignoring the pain that jolted up her arm as the healing nerve ends screamed their disapproval.

She overrode the failsafe device on the main cargo bay hold, threw the locking device into the open mode, and waited on tenterhooks as the main computer trundled its way through the preparatory protocols. Her finger was hovering hysterically over the console long before the command sequence finally came up. Open Cargo Bay 1 door? Override safety procedure 1? Override safety procedures 3 and 6? Warning: this operation will seriously compromise the security of the ship – are you sure that this is what you want to do? Imminent danger! You are opening cargo bay doors without the necessary security procedures! Do you wish to continue?

She jabbed again and again at the console. Yes. Yes. Yes! Yes! YES! YES! Grace felt the Independence give a slight quiver as the cargo bay doors began to ease open, and the air inside hissed out into space.

“You are doing very well,” the small sphere told her. It had been hovering behind her, watching everything that she was doing. “Now, as soon as my pod is far enough away, you must target it with everything this ship has got. On Dessia they build craft to last for centuries, remember! One or two small missiles will do nothing! You have to let go with everything this trader has!”

“S-surely there is another way?” stammered Grace. “I CAN’T kill you! Not after all that you have done for me! Please tell me that there is another way. Please don’t let this all happen again. Visitor! Tell me this is all a bad dream. You CAN’T be telling me to kill both you and Arcan! This is NOT my fate. PLEASE!”

The machine whirred its distress at her pain. “If there were any other way, Grace—”

She drew in a shuddering breath, and capitulated. “Very well.” Her fingers found the missile deploy software program, and began to initiate the procedures. She could hear the metal of the visitor’s ship scrape against the hull plating of the Independence. It was a metallic shriek of pain that lanced through her own body as well. It seemed to be a cry of agony as the plates of the two ships dug into each other, gouging great streams of sparks across the floor of the hold, and leaving a trail of evidence that the small ship had clung onto its safe harbour for as long as it could.

The firing sequence came up and Grace again stabbed with her broken fingers at the console. As the visitor’s ship finally tore itself separate from the Independence with one last immense groan of tortured plating, she identified it as the target, and locked down all the weapons which could be deployed simultaneously. Again, she overrode all of the security proceedings, the visitor’s own camera overseeing the process, approving its own destruction.

“How far away must it be?” asked the visitor with a crackle.

Grace checked the console in front of her. “It is coming up with a red warning at the moment, so quite a lot further, I think.”

“We may not have a lot more time. Set a course away from us as fast as possible. I am unable to initiate movement in my own ship. Put as much distance between us as you can. I will hang on for as long as I am able, but Arcan is tiring, and I can’t withdraw my support, because then they will get through.”

Grace switched on the Independence’s engines, and got another warning. They were too close to the other ship for safe ignition.

“Forget it!” screamed the globe. “Just get away as fast as you can!”

“YES!” punched Grace. “YES, I AM SURE! YES, I DO, YES! YES! YES!”

The engines came on line and fired, directly onto the small ship in its wake. The video camera fell onto the floor with a hard clunk and rolled away, under the day couch, where it lay for a few moments as if stunned. Then Grace, out of the corner of her eye, saw that it was back in the air again. Despite a small dent next to its lens, it managed to hover back to her side.

“They … are nearly … through, Grace!” it crackled, through intense static. “Can’t w … wait! N … Now!”

Grace peered at the screen through eyes which were suddenly wet. The red light was still on, despite the distance the Independence was putting between them all. She blinked the water out of her eyes, and put one long, intact finger on the fire button. Then she hesitated.

“It … must … be … now!” gasped the sphere. “NOW, Grace, NOW!”

Tears pouring down her face, Grace pushed at the deploy icon on the screen, jabbing down at the destruction of the visitor.

There was a tiny hiatus in the universe, during which the globe whirred.

“Thank—”

A huge explosion of light lit up the world. Grace was aware of all the colours of the universe pouring over her through the rexelene screen, of the tumbling motion of the Independence and the sound of the sphere dropping lifelessly to the deck. Then that very same deck turned lazily over and over in space, she was flung out of the console chair and into the bulkhead. Her heart fluttered for a moment, and then she felt her body crash down against the deck plates, winding her. More flashes seemed to pass through her in waves, and then she gratefully slid into black unconsciousness.

WHEN GRACE WOKE up, hours later, it was with a sense of dread. She knew that some event of enormous importance had happened, that there was something terribly wrong with the world, and that she didn’t want to wake up to face it. Her stomach was curling with shame, and her mind trying to hide from scrutiny. She closed her eyes again, and tried to collapse back into the welcome obscurity.

But it was too late. The memories of what had happened, and of her own part in it all flooded back, her brain unable to stop them coming. She raised her head warily, and found that she was still lying on the deck plates of the Independence. Arcan’s ship, at least, was still in one piece.

She pulled herself up, and moved groggily over to the console. The visitor’s ship had disintegrated over the planet. Her instruments were picking up only small pieces of debris, together with a cloud of macroparticles which were showing up as a danger to hull integrity. She looked out with dull eyes, and then set the Independence to a lower stable orbit, in order to avoid the wreckage of the visitor’s small ship. Then she lowered her head onto folded arms on top of the console, and closed her eyes. The feeling of doom flooded through her again, and she felt despair. Absolute and utter despair. She sat hunched forward with her head on her arms for a long, long time as the full realization of what she had done sank in. The silence of the chamber was only marred by the slight noise which the now inoperative video camera made as it rolled gently from side to side under the control panel. Grace was disconsolate.

WHEN SHE WOKE up in the cavern, Diva realized that she was still curled up against Six’s back. She pulled away from him, rather embarrassed, and scrambled to sit up. He must have been awake too, because he did the same, and looked at her.

“Sleep well?”

She shook her head. “Not a wink,” she lied. “How are you feeling?”

Six moved the muscles in his back. “Better,” he said. “I was scared that they would stiffen up in the night, and make climbing out difficult, but you have helped that. Thank you.”

“Err … that’s all right.”

He handed over one of the waterpacks. “Here!”

She drank gratefully. “Thanks. When should we start out?”

He looked upwards, to check the quality of the scant light. “We can probably start our ascent in about half-an-hour.”

She nodded and sat back. She felt strange. Something had changed in her relationship with Six, and she wasn’t quite sure what it was. What she really needed was a nice warm bath in Mesteta wine, she thought. That would make her feel better. She looked around the chamber to see if anything had changed, if the amorphs were still in the same place.

Strangely, they seemed to be congregated at the side of the lake. There was a hum of excitement coming from them, and there appeared to be a small aura of orange light emanating from the group. Diva now found herself able to see much more clearly in the penumbra down in the cavern. She opened her eyes wide, and nudged Six, pointing out the spot she was looking at. Something seemed to be about to happen. There was definitely an air of expectation amongst the amorphs. She sat up straighter, and peered into the lake. It too, seemed expectant. There was a tiny fluting sound coming from it; a high-pitched noise which set her teeth on edge, but which was at the same time addictive, almost entrancing. It made her get unsteadily to her feet, and stumble the few metres down to the side of the lake. The amorphs made way for her hastily; they seemed to realize that she was not in a fit state to dictate to her feet where they should step.

The sound intensified, and the light the amorphs were giving off too. Diva realized that she was observing something singular. She wasn’t sure what exactly was going on, but she could sense its importance, and also that, whatever was happening, it was no threat to her own integrity. She bit her lip and stared at the lake and at the amorphs, aware that Six had come to stand beside her.

As the sound and the light intensified, there seemed to come a moment when the two things merged together. The amorphs drifted into the ortholiquid, and the light they were giving off melted into the sound, until both were simply a brilliant white scream which set all of the hairs on her body at right angles to her skin. The electrifying result caused the smell of ozone to permeate the chamber and Diva realized that all of her senses had somehow become engaged at the same time. Even her fingertips were tingling with sensation and she could taste a mixture of ozone, sulphur and some other, indefinable touch against her taste buds.

The brilliant white light spread out, the sound pulsed in volume, her senses expanded to fill the dark chamber, and then, just as suddenly, they collapsed into themselves, dwindling down to one or two particular places on the surface of the lake. Diva had to close her eyes, because the brightness of the light had left its mark on her retina. Then she opened them again, to see what had caused such an explosion of light and sound. There, in the centre of the nearest pulse of light, was an amorph, which was still shimmering. It was smaller than the others, and glittered with an opalescent tint in the semidarkness of the cavern.

Diva found herself walking closer and closer to the amorph at the centre of all the fuss. She waded into the lake until she could see it clearly in front of her. Then she reached down to touch it very gently with the tips of her fingers. It spun for a moment, and then levitated into the air above her hand. She brought her palm up to eye level, the tiny sphere hovering above it as she did. Then she stared closely at the minute globe. It scintillated above her fingers. Although the general impression of colour was of a creamy hue, she could see that inside it was made up of many brightly coloured filaments which played around each other, rather like threads of smoke. She was fascinated.

“Where did you come from?” she wondered to herself.

“Hello Diva!” it replied, and then moved close to Six’s face as he came up to them. “Hello, Six!”

Six batted at the tiny sphere in an irritated fashion. “Now I have started to hallucinate,” he said. “Terrific!”

The small creature danced out of range and then back again, this time with more caution. “You are not hallucinating.”
 

Diva shook her head. This place was really getting to her, she realized. She had actually imagined it speaking to her!
 

“Thank you for all your help. Arcan was able to pull me out at the last moment.” The voice came out of nowhere again, but she could hear it clearly inside her mind.

She blinked. “Visitor? Is that you? Pull you out of where? Where are you? I don’t understand.”

“Of course you can see me. I am hovering in front of both of you. In the amorph.” The voice stopped for a moment, considering. “We will have to change that title. I am a mixture of three parts – me, one of the Arcan amorphs, and the ortholiquid from here. The original avifauna amorphs are just avifauna and ortholiquid. So I have an extra element. I think I had better be called a ‘bimorph’. Yes, that would be a suitable name. Bimorph. I rather like it.”

“Did they destroy your ship, Visitor? I am sorry.”

The tiny bimorph buzzed. “No. Grace did that.”

“Grace?”

The visitor buzzed again. “Long story. But I have to get to know some of the amorphs. And I am not very sure exactly what I am going to be able to do. I can obviously hover, but I should be able to transport quantically too, and I may even have retained my quantum non-locality.” The small spherical shape spun around excitedly. “This is great, Diva! I am actually here, outside the nutrient tank. I can hardly believe it! Please thank Grace when you see her.”

“Grace did this?” Diva knew that her brain was reacting sluggishly, but she didn’t seem able to take it all in.
 

The bimorph spun again delicately, showing off his newly found lightness. “Yes, but she doesn’t know it yet. She thinks Arcan and I are dead. I hope Arcan can get to her soon. She must be feeling terrible.”
 

Six thought of something. “I don’t suppose you can transport us?”

The little sphere gave a sad whirr. “I don’t think so. I don’t know how much I can do yet, but I don’t think transporting anybody except myself is part of it.”

“Well, go back to Grace then, Visitor. She will be getting very edgy, all on her own. We will make our own way out of here. By the way,” he gave the small being one of his wide smiles, “congratulations!”
 

“Thank you, Six. I am very happy to be alive, and to have such a versatile body. This is going to be fun!” With a slightly opalescent shimmer, the bimorph vanished.

Six looked up at the imposing rock face in front of him. “Great fun,” he grumbled. Then he looked at Diva and nodded his head in an imperious fashion in the direction of the vertical wall. They made their way over to the rope, and Diva took a deep breath, and began to climb. Six watched her as she made her way carefully up the first 50 metre stretch before following, the wounds in the back of his head and in his back protesting every step of the way. It didn’t matter. He was happy to have done something to help, even if the visitor was bound to be more trouble now than he had ever been in the past.

GRACE JUMPED ABOUT a foot in the air when she felt the lightest of touches on her shoulder.
 

“I am sorry. I have startled you.”

She looked around, and then saw a small creature in front of her, shiny opal in the light, and spinning slightly around its axis.

“Arcan?” she hazarded.

“Is Arcan not back yet? That is not good news, but I do not think that he will be long. No, I am the visitor.”

Grace’s eyes brightened. “Is it really you? You are not dead?”

“I don’t think so,” he replied carefully. “My current status is rather ambiguous and I would prefer not to commit myself just yet.”

On Grace’s insistence, the visitor found himself repeating again what had happened as the missile struck, and what he thought had happened afterwards, on Pictoria. Finally he explained that Six and Diva were struggling back up from the cavern. He was just trying to stop Grace from taking the last shuttle down to the planet when the diaphanous shape of Arcan appeared.

The small bimorph instantly glowed, and Grace was amazed to see that Arcan stopped dead in his tracks, and responded with a kind of inner translucence himself. Neither of them spoke to her for a few moments. Then Arcan scintillated with a palette of colours, and she saw his surprise and pleasure as he realized what had happened.

“Grace! Thank you. The visitor has been telling me what happened. You did very well.”

“I blew you up!”

“Yes, but no lasting damage was done. You saved both of us, it seems. The visitor is very pleased with the outcome; he can travel quantically and talk non-locally, so he seems to have got the best of both of us. We have made a new being!”

“What happened to the other two orthogel amorphs, Arcan?”

Arcan flickered. “I am not sure,” he said. “I feel that they were not completely destroyed, but I am unable to contact them at this time. Can you, Visitor?”

The small shape scintillated, just as Arcan sometimes did. “No. I don’t think that they were completely destroyed, though, because I can hear some sort of chatter in the back of my neurons …”

Grace looked from one to the other. “Are you all visitor in your thoughts,” she asked the newly formed creature, “or is part of you Arcan in the way you think?”

The bimorph considered. “No, I am me,” he told her. “I know that I can move like Arcan, which is new; and I can use non-locality, which is not. But Arcan doesn’t seem to have entered into my personality. I think I am still the person I was, only in a better package. I just need time to figure out how I work now.”

Grace gave a long sigh of relief. “Well, we should have time now,” she said. “In fact, as soon as Six and Diva get back here I am going to suggest a long, long holiday on Xiantha!” Then she looked sternly from one of them to the other. “And I would be very grateful if you didn’t ask me to kill you again!”

“I’m sorry, Grace,” said Arcan, darkening. “There really wasn’t any other option. The Dessites were waiting for us, and they were somehow pulling me away, pulling me away from here and into their own space. It was a very unpleasant feeling. If you and the visitor hadn’t acted promptly I don’t think either he or I would have been able to return into our bodies. We are going to have to try to avoid the Dessites in the future. I don’t think I will like them very much as a race.”

The visitor glowed. “They formed a planet-wide link,” he told them. “They must have planned it for quite some time, for as soon as they felt that the orthogel entity was entering the mindmerge, it became exponentially stronger.”