Eternity's Mind (16 page)

With careful study, the warliners located the black sphere that had only recently been a vibrant ocean planet. Now it was a polished black ball, encased in a shell that allowed no light whatsoever, in or out.

“We will have to break through,” Zan'nh said. “I do not expect to find survivors but we may still learn something.”

The seven warliners went into orbit around the black world, cruising over the shell of interlocking hexagonal plates. Just like the vastly larger barricade that had enclosed the entire Onthos system.

With a laser-cannon barrage, the Solar Navy ships targeted the vertices of the hexagonal plates. Back at the Onthos system, they had discovered the precise energy and impact point that could break the plates apart. Now the warliners hammered away at the opaque shell, and finally the hexagonal plates shuddered and broke apart like a disintegrating mosaic. Black pieces spilled into empty orbital space and drifted aimlessly; some plates remained intact while others evaporated into clots of nothingness and dark energy.

With part of the shell blasted open, the seven ships hovered at the opening.

Rememberer Anton pointed out, “It's only been a week since the shell was completed. Even if all sunlight was cut off, some of the deep ocean species might have survived, maybe plankton or dormant spores drifting in the waters. Do you think the oceans are frozen over?”

“If that was all that happened, something may have survived,” Zan'nh said. “But I believe the Shana Rei darkness represents a complete absence of life as well as light.”

Using caution, the Adar dispatched automated probes ahead into the darkness. As the deployed probes streaked toward the planet's surface, they shone inspection blazers down on the smooth surface of black water, but they found no sign of life, light, or movement whatsoever.

“Tamo'l is not there, but I know she is still alive,” Gale'nh said. In his image on the screen, he seemed deep in thought. “It makes me glad. At least the shadows do not have her as they have Rod'h.”

After the warliners blasted away an even larger equatorial swath of the hex plates, creating an obvious escape path, Zan'nh guided his flagship inside, followed by the other six warliners. The ships' combined running lights illuminated the inky nothingness ahead of them, and the interior blazers brightened to reassure them. They flew low over the oceans; there were no weather patterns, no tides, no waves. The darkness was absolute—not just an absence of light, but an absence of all things living.

Adar Zan'nh stood at the command rail, staring at the screens. He breathed slowly, focusing on their mission. Even knowing what he expected to find, he was struck by the hopeless emptiness, the black
erasure
of all that had been Kuivahr.

The warliners located thready remnants of what had been enormous kelp rafts in the oceans, now decayed and disintegrating. And then, using stored coordinates, they reached Tamo'l's sanctuary domes, which until recently had risen like blisters out of the water. They had been a safe place for the surviving misbreeds, but those domes had collapsed. The structures appeared to be thousands of years old, although only seven days had passed.

The Ildiran crew just stared. Anton Colicos took more notes. “It's as if chaos itself is reclaiming the planet.”

On their expedition to the Onthos home system, when he and General Keah had breached the black outer shell and explored the smothered solar system, they knew that millennia had passed. Kuivahr, however, had been englobed only days earlier. There should have been hope. Zan'nh shook his head.

Rememberer Anton said, “There's no one alive and waiting for rescue, that's for sure.”

Gale'nh said over the comm, “I wish Tamo'l had evacuated with us, but they must have made it through the Klikiss transportal.”

“We will continue our survey,” Zan'nh said. “We have come all this way. We will be thorough for the Mage-Imperator.”

Finally, they reached the towers of the abandoned Kellum distillery, where the structures creaked and crumbled, the girders collapsing, the distillery platforms tumbling into the reefs.

Tal Gale'nh's warliner arrived first and circled slowly overhead to take images of the ruins. His voice sounded startled. “Adar, there is a ship down there—a small shielded craft. I am detecting a very faint energy signature.”

The command nucleus fell into an immediate hushed silence. “How can that be?” Zan'nh asked.

Rememberer Anton looked intently at the Adar, struggling to maintain optimism. “That's what we're here to investigate. We should have a look.”

The rest of the warliners converged above the collapsing distillery towers, and under enhanced magnification, Zan'nh made out a small craft resting askew in the mudflats against the foundation reefs. Dazzling blazers from the warliners shone down to illuminate the derelict craft. Its hull looked corroded, darkened. Judging from the collapsed platform above, Zan'nh guessed that the vessel had landed on the distillery's deck, which had since crumbled, dumping the ship into the soft mud.

“The energy signature is barely detectable, Adar,” said one of his sensor techs. “Not much more than one functional power block. If the rest of this world weren't so completely dead, I doubt we would have detected it.”

Anton sounded excited. “Someone must have been trapped, unable to get away before the black shell was finished. The ship is small enough for us to bring aboard the warliner, isn't it? Can we retrieve the whole thing intact?”

Zan'nh nodded. “It is a personal craft. We can easily bring it into our landing bay. We will want the ship's log, if nothing else.”

Anton licked his lower lip. “That would be a record we've never had before—an eyewitness account.”

The Adar's flagship descended gently with its lower launching bay open. A tractor beam and secondary cables attached to the small derelict ship and uprooted it from the mud. As the craft was lifted into the air, however, it began to lose structural integrity. Obvious cracks in the hull split open. Wisps of atmosphere vented out.

“The ship is disintegrating,” Anton said.

“Quickly,” Zan'nh barked to his crew. “Whatever is inside will not remain intact for long.” Extending shields to encompass the craft and taking intense care, the Ildirans lifted the derelict ship up into the warliner's lower hold.

Zan'nh and the historian hurried together down to the bay. “If nothing else,” Anton said, “we'll find out who the pilot was and give him a proper memorial.”

The retrieved Kellum ship rested on the bay deck, sagging under the weight of its decay. Hull plates slipped off and clattered to the deck, and the ship groaned as it settled.

Solar Navy engineers gathered around the vessel, taking readings but keeping their distance. Traceries of frost ran along the hull. Rememberer Anton put his hands on his hips and stepped forward. “We need to get inside.”

The structural braces groaned, and part of the roof collapsed into the interior. Two engineers stepped up to the opening. When they tried to activate the main hatch, it simply fell off. The engineers lifted it aside.

“It is not safe,” Zan'nh said.

One of the engineers studied readings from his scanner screen. “There is an energy signature inside, Adar, the last flickers of a power block … and a life sign.”

“Someone's alive in there?” Anton pushed to the lopsided opening of the craft.

“Very low level,” the engineer replied.

“Well, there won't be any life sign if this ship collapses around whoever it is.” The historian turned to the nearest Ildiran engineer. “Come on, help me.”

“You do not—” said the engineer.

The Adar snapped, “Do as he says. If there is someone to be saved…”

The ship continued to fall apart as the historian and Ildiran engineer ducked inside. Adar Zan'nh waited, quelling his worry so the others would not sense it through the
thism.
He swallowed hard, glanced at the other tense crewmembers. He heard movement inside the craft, then Anton's shout. “It's a survivor!”

“We are retrieving one human male,” called the Ildiran engineer. “Please send for medical kith.”

Moments later, the two carried out a limp, pale form—an unconscious dark-haired man in his late forties. “He powered everything down, wrapped himself in insulating blankets,” said Anton. “Based on the medical kits out on the table, it looks as if he took a sustained dose of tranquilizers.”

“He was trying to extend his resources, to last as long as possible,” said Zan'nh. “A very resourceful man.”

“A Roamer,” said Anton. “I'm sure of it.”

The medical technicians quickly brought their diagnostics. “He is cold, his metabolism at a bare minimum, but there is still brain activity.” The lead doctor looked up. “This is most unexpected.”

“It is indeed,” said Adar Zan'nh. “Let us warm him, give him stimulants and nourishment—and we will see what he has to say.”

The salvaged craft groaned, and its hull sagged further. Rememberer Anton wiped perspiration from his brow. “I suggest you send someone to retrieve the ship's log before it's too late, Adar.”

*   *   *

The survivor's name was Marius Denva, facility chief of the Kellum distillery. Despite being terrified and constantly chilled, he was unharmed.

Adar Zan'nh stood at Denva's bedside in the medical bay with the human historian. Anton nodded to the food tray at the bedside. “The ordeal doesn't seem to have affected your appetite.”

“Not at all,” said Denva. “I've got time to make up for. It seemed like I was trapped aboard there for a hundred years.”

“Seven days,” said the Adar.

By now they had reviewed his log. Some of the files were corrupted, the audio filled with static, but Anton had been able to gather the gist of what the survivor had been through.

“The last of the Kellum ships got into orbit,” said Denva, propping himself up in the sickbay bed. “I had only my small craft, couldn't carry any refugees, didn't even make it to orbit. I was stupidly protective of our operations. Guess I stayed too long.”

He shook his head, then took a slow slurp of the hot broth in front of him. He shivered, pulled the blankets closer around him. “I can't believe how fast the shadows assembled that shell. I saw the sky dwindling, the mosaic building up piece by piece. I raced to the opening, but my ship wasn't fast enough. I watched the gap close in front of me, and then the whole planet was sealed off.

“I knew I was the last one at the distillery, so I flew to the sanctuary domes, but the Ildirans had evacuated, too. Most of them escaped through the Klikiss transportal, I think. No one answered my signal. The entire world was dark, the comm bands totally silent.

“I had only one chance to get away, so I raced to the Klikiss transportal.” He leaned forward, looked up at Zan'nh with an intense and astonished expression. “Even that didn't work. The transportal was cut off. I couldn't get away. The darkness was strangling everything.”

His eyes took on a faraway look. “It wasn't just emptiness—I've been out in deep space before. This was something different. The darkness was tangible and threatening. I'm not a little kid to be afraid of the dark.” He swallowed hard. “But I was afraid of this.”

“Now you understand how all Ildirans feel in complete darkness,” Zan'nh said.

“I didn't think I'd ever get away,” Denva said. “I flew back to the distillery again, figuring I may as well go home. I landed my ship on the deck, locked down all my systems, ate my fill of the supplies I had on board.” His voice cracked. “I made sure my log was in order, and I increased shields, hoping they might help the ship last just a little longer.

“I combined all the power blocks I had left, buried myself under emergency blankets, and hooked up the slow-release tranquilizer. By my calculations, I figured I could last for a month, maybe six weeks. I'm sure glad you came when you did.”

Zan'nh said, “We arrived in seven days.”

Denva let out a nervous laugh. “A week? Did you see the condition of my ship?”

“Seven days,” Rememberer Anton repeated.

Denva gulped the rest of his broth. “Then I'm doubly glad you got to me when you did.” He looked up. “What about Del Kellum and the rest of the crew from the distillery? Did they get out?”

“They are safe,” Zan'nh said. “We retrieved them.”

“We'll take you back to them,” said Anton Colicos.

Denva let out a long sigh. He seemed very weary, but his lips formed a wry smile. “Del Kellum will put me right back to work … in whatever new business he's come up with.”

The Adar turned to leave the sickbay. “We have finished our mission on Kuivahr. We will return you to your people.”

 

CHAPTER

25

EXXOS

More and more black clouds appeared across the Spiral Arm as the Shana Rei broke through the walls of space, forming doorways through which they could slide their enormous hexagonal ships. The stain of darkness spread as if seeping through holes poked through the structure of the universe.

Exxos monitored the incursions of the creatures of darkness—like a thousand cuts torturing and killing the cosmos. The process would eventually lead to the obliteration of the human race, the Ildiran Empire, and the cacophony of sentient thoughts that caused the shadows such agony.

In this particular circumstance the robots' plans aligned with those of the Shana Rei, but Exxos never forgot his own priorities. Once the universe itself was erased, the shadows had promised to grant the black robots their own pocket universe that they could manage as they wished.

Exxos didn't trust the Shana Rei—he never had—and always remained alert for ways to manipulate them. Even though the shadows were incomprehensible and quite likely insane, they did not suspect treachery. And now they had created a million new robots with which Exxos could fight. Yes, that would be sufficient.