Infinite Day (18 page)

“Ludovica, can I give you a small task?”

“Of course.”

He pulled his diary off his belt. “A friend of mine—with some unusual gifts has been drawing and writing some strange formulae that he has no understanding of.” He found the file with the images of Jorgio's writings.

“What do you want me to do with them?”

“Find a mathematician and try to see if they make any sense.”

As he transmitted the file to her diary, she asked, “You think it's important?”

“I have no doubt it is. But I just don't know how.”

Then, with more farewells, she was gone.

A few minutes later, the air locks were sealed and the shuttles began slowly undocking.

As Merral walked toward the bridge, Lloyd handed him a package.

“You agreed, sir.”

Mystified, Merral glanced inside to see a holster with a pistol.

“Ten rounds, sir. Special rounds. Good against man or beast.”

“Thank you, Sergeant.” Reluctantly, Merral slipped the holster onto his belt.

“No problem. Shouldn't penetrate any walls. With a certain . . . creature, my guess is that you may need at least a couple of rounds to stop it.”

“Thank you, Sergeant,” Merral repeated and realized he sounded brusque. “Oh, and I mean it. I just don't like guns. Or swords.”

“They're just tools, sir.”

Merral hesitated. “No, Lloyd. That they are not; they change what we are. But thanks for this.”

Lloyd stared at the gun. “As you wish, sir.”

Then Merral walked on and took his place with Azeras and Captain Bezemov on the bridge. Merral saw Azeras glance round and noticed how his eyes paused as he saw the gun, but he could read no emotions on the lean, impassive face.

“Ready, Sarudar?”

There was a nod. Merral saw that all eyes were upon him. He realized he didn't know what words to use. “What do I say? How about ‘Assembly vessel
Star
is ready for launch'? Or ‘Captain Bezemov, would you fire the engines'?”

“That will do . . .
sir
.” Laura answered. She smiled and began tapping keys as a flurry of orders and queries began to flow between her and Azeras.

The faintest of jolts shuddered through the ship.

This journey is already perilous; we must survive Below-Space, overtake the
Nanmaxat's Comet
, and seize it at the other end.
As the sense of motion grew, Merral looked at a wall clock and did a quick calculation.

And we are already forty hours behind
.

7

D
espite the sense of haste, Azeras and Laura refused to be hurried, and for well over an hour they stayed in Normal-Space as systems were checked and counterchecked.

Finally, Azeras was ready to start the descent into Below-Space, and as Merral watched out of the port, the stars faded behind a gray fog until only a pale disk of Alahir could be seen. Then that too vanished, and Merral was struck by the mournful thought that the star that had lit all his life had gone.

Within minutes the ports were all shuttered closed. Azeras was adamant that no one should try to look out. “Not only is there nothing to see,” he said, “but you may meet more than you bargained for.”

An hour later the loss of color was noticeable; two hours later everything was just lifeless tones of white, gray, and black. Merral found the monochrome world disturbing and unpleasant. But it was not, he reminded himself, either painful or threatening.

Shortly afterward there was a meeting with Azeras in the long conference room behind the bridge.

Azeras began. “Let me start with some warnings. Some of you have heard these, but they bear repeating. The secret to surviving this trip is going to be discipline.”

Merral felt that Luke wanted to say something, but the chaplain kept quiet and Azeras continued. “There must be rules.
One:
no one should be on his own for more than a few minutes; we work in pairs. It's not just the manifestations—appearances—call them what you want; it's that Below-Space can affect people in odd ways. Doctor, I'll share what I know and there are case studies on file here.”

Abilana nodded.

“
Two
: we take care with the manifestations. The smaller forms, such as the ghost slugs—that's what we call them—and the things like them, will not normally do harm, but it is best if you do not meet them alone. They shouldn't be touched with bare flesh. Handle them swiftly with gloves or boots, and bin them if you can. They will eventually go away.”

Merral saw incomprehension and fear on the gray faces.

“
Three
: we will sleep in specified rooms with no fewer than two or three people. Each sleeping space has an electronic monitor for the manifestations. If the alarm sounds, get up, stay away from the thing, and get it out into the corridor or bin it. Is that clear?”

His words were greeted by muted, numbed nods.

“Wh-what do they do to you?” Vero asked.

“At lower levels, not a lot. Stinging, numbness. But you wouldn't want to wake up with one on your face, would you?” The shaking of heads was universal. “And at deeper levels . . .” Azeras shrugged.

Merral felt that Anya looked particularly unhappy and his unease about her was renewed.

Azeras continued. “Anyway,
four
: we keep a watch. Two people on the bridge, with cameras scanning all the main corridors. The watch must not slip. We are going so deep that no one knows what we will meet.”

Vero shook his head in apparent dismay.

“
Five
—it is five, isn't it? Yes. The doctor here needs to check on everyone once every day or so. For psychological effects.”

Abilana stared at her gray fingers and shook her head. “We are going to get those. Oh yes!”

“
Six,
and lastly: we need to keep everyone busy. One way of minimizing the negative effects of the Nether-Realms is to keep active. Don't allow the chance for things to get on your mind. You—rather than I—need to create a program that will give a framework for the team. Merral—mission commander—over to you.”

Although Merral found the whole idea of such a rigorously disciplined timetable unpalatable, he sensed the wisdom in it, and within half an hour he had arranged a framework of duties, drills, exercise, and recreation.

“Five weeks sounds like a long time,” Merral said as the meeting drew to a close. “But we also have to come up with a strategy—or better still, a series of strategies—for what happens at Sarata. We have only one strength: surprise.”

Vero nodded. “Surprise is a card that can only be played once,” he pronounced, and people looked at him, then at each other, before finally nodding agreement.

Merral spoke. “And when we have our strategy, we need to practice until we are perfect. We all must be able to work as a team and use weapons, even if we are suited up.”

After the meeting, Merral caught Luke in the compartment that had become his office. As he settled down in a chair, Merral saw that the chaplain had decorated the compartment with a number of posters and images, mostly of landscapes and people.

“Luke, I felt you wanted to say something,” Merral said.

The chaplain stared thoughtfully at the ground for some time before he answered. “Yes, but I felt it wasn't appropriate just then. There are some spiritual issues here. I am unclear whether these manifestations we are warned against are the embodiments of spiritual powers. But I am sure that we tread on dangerous ground. I think that while the discipline promoted by Azeras will help, we will need more.” He fell silent. “I think, too, we need to beware of the danger of the subtle evil.”

“Better explain.”

“I will. But I suggest you call everyone together here tonight, and there I will say more.”

“You can tell me now.”

There was a private smile and the eyes flicked to the wall. Merral followed his gaze to a sign that read simply, “God's time is the best time.”

Luke nodded at it. “Merral, my besetting fault is impatience. I want things my way and at my time. So I remind myself that God knows best. In timing; in everything.”

“So is that a message for me, too?”

“You have your own issues. But isn't faith about waiting?”

“Then I too will wait.”

After an evening meal in which everyone commented that the loss of color somehow drained food of its taste, the entire crew of the ship assembled in the gathering hall. Merral, who stood at the side for much of the time, saw how Azeras and Betafor stood at the rear corners, as far apart as could be. Out of the corner of his vision, he watched them both. He saw how the sarudar, constantly shifting his weight from foot to foot, seemed to observe matters with discomfort, while the Allenix unit maintained a rigid immobility that suggested a total isolation.
How odd; they hate each other but are united by the fact that they are both outsiders to the Assembly.

Luke then spoke. With a mixture of solemnity and humility, lightened by flashes of humor, he gently warned of the dangers he foresaw ahead.

“The ancient saints of the church saw themselves as living at the very front line of the great and agelong war between good and evil. We now live in just such a setting.” Merral felt the hush that greeted Luke's words was extraordinary. “Here the enemy lies very close indeed, perhaps only a whisper away. We must take the greatest of care over what we do and say and above all what we think. The most deadly thing we meet down here may not be the monstrous apparition in the corridor; it may be the tiny thought of lust or hate or despair.” The chaplain sipped some water before continuing. “I think, too, that temptations you and I might shrug off in the light of day are here more potent than they have ever been.” Another long and charged pause filled the hall.

“By all accounts, we will soon see things that will scare and appall us. We must beware of such astonishing things and should treat them with care. But in the midst of such spectacular perils, we must fear more what I call the ‘danger of the subtle evil.' By their spectacular monstrosity, such things may blind us to more concealed, but no less deadly, perils. A bacterium may kill as surely as a bomb, and we must beware both. And for a man to run from a lion only to trip over a molehill and break his neck is hardly progress.” There was gentle, brittle laughter, and in the nervousness Merral was troubled by the number of those who looked at him as if for reassurance.

“Above all we must pray for ourselves and each other. To use a rich image from the Word, we travel in the wilderness . . . the wilderness between the worlds.” He paused as if struck by his own illustration and then went on. “And may I add a final counsel? We traverse gray, silent realms. We may not be able to bring color to them, but we can bring laughter, joy, and hope.”

Then with prayer he ended.

Later, a thoughtful Merral made his way over to Betafor. “I am interested in your comments,” he said, aware that Anya had joined them.

Lead gray eyes stared at him. “I need to process this further. I have seen a lot of the human race. This is . . . different. I had expected more on surviving. Instead there was more on doing what is right.”

“Do you understand the idea of temptation?”

“It is . . . a peculiarly human issue.”

“How so?”

“If I may put it in computer language, humans seem to have conflicting programs. This makes decision making complex and plainly agonizing. You are pulled two ways—toward what is best for you and toward what you think is right.”

“And you have only a single pull?” Anya asked.

After a discernable hesitation Betafor answered. “That is a hard question. If I answer . . . that I only consider matters on the basis of what is good for me, then you will consider me to be without morality. That gives rise to fear and suspicion in humans.”

“But is it true?”