Redemption Protocol (Contact) (44 page)

> Some?

> They sound too good for the ORC.

> Isn't everything too good for the ORC?

> Not while we need them.

> I still can’t believe Havoc hasn’t worked out who you are.

> He’ll get there.

> And then?

> Forewarned is forearmed, Ekker.

 82. 

Havoc slowly approached the entrance to a huge amphitheater located in the center of the pyramid.

“Let's take this nice and slow.”

Havoc peered through the columns that created an arcade encircling the entire chamber.

The central space was immense. In the center, two crystalline staircases spiraled around each other like perfect strands of a double helix. The staircases rose to a translucent disc high above and from there another four staircases climbed to a central altar.

The ceiling was a spectacular dome comprising countless interlocking onyx tiles. It was like being inside the multi-faceted eye of an insect. The ceiling was speared by seven wide tunnels that disappeared upward. Dim illumination flickered between the enormous tiles, giving the chamber a mystical feeling.

Havoc advanced with the others through the colonnade to stop at the edge of the amphitheater. Tomas turned slowly in a circle.

“This is amazing.”

“Unbelievable,” Charles said.

Kemensky frowned at the princes.

“Why are you two whispering?”

“Out of respect,” Charles said.

Havoc checked the time.

“We need to go soon.”

Charles turned to him.

“Can we go up the stairs?”

Havoc masked his surprise. Charles was asking his permission for something
in advance
. This was major progress.

Charles’s face looked optimistic, presumably taking Havoc's silence to mean that Havoc was considering his answer, rather than trying to accustom himself to the novel experience of Charles asking permission.

Havoc studied the spiraling staircases.

“You stay behind me.”

“Ok.”

Havoc turned to Kemensky and Tomas.

“You coming?”

They both nodded. The amphitheater was incredible. Maybe there really were some places so inspiring you’d be happy to die in them.

Havoc made his way over to the stairs. He scanned across the chamber, ready to engage. A spiraling staircase stretched away above him. One hundred and fifty meters of vertical. Each step was over a meter high.

Havoc placed a hand on the first step, facing outward as he scanned the amphitheater. He swung himself up, coming straight to a standing position on the first step.

Where was everybody?

 83. 

Weaver found it a shock to step from the tranquil library back into the roaring wind at the base of the Colosseum. A glow was visible on the horizon. Dawn was coming.

Stone jogged down the avenue to meet them. Weaver looked past Stone, drinking in the astonishing alien architecture lining the avenue. Plash was another world, beyond her expectations.

“This place is amazing.”

Darkwood stepped alongside her.

“It's inspirational. Just imagine that humanity grouped together to create something like this.”

Weaver smiled at Darkwood, enthused by his passion. Stone slowed to a walk as he neared them.

“Let's show Weaver the minaret.”

“I'm not sure we have time,” Karch said.

Stone was undeterred.

“Yes we have. Come on, I wanted to show Saskia, but she's too professional to leave the ship while we're all outside. She wants to protect me.”

Novosa's voice came over the radio.

“I heard that, little man.”

Stone grinned as he took hold of Weaver's arm. He leaned into the wind and set off toward the triangular plaza next to the Colosseum.

“Come on. You will love this. Love it.”

“I’ll see you back at the shuttle,” Darkwood said.

Weaver nodded as she was dragged away. Karch tutted as she followed a few paces behind.

“Not long.”

Stone dropped Weaver's arm and scurried forward.

“We don't need long.”

Ornate carvings lined the triangular plaza. In places they’d toppled like defeated chess pieces. Stone kicked one as he passed.

“Solid.”

A true scientist, Weaver thought, smiling to herself. A thought struck her as she inspected the carving.

“This isn't right.”

Karch spun, scanning for threats.

“What do you mean?”

Weaver raised her hand.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it’s dangerous.”

Karch looked at Weaver expectantly.

Weaver pointed at a carving on the edge of the plaza.

“The images of this plaza in the library and carved on that obelisk very clearly show the minaret.”

Stone inspected the carving.

“So?”

“And there isn't a crater in those images.”

Stone raised an eyebrow. He began speaking slowly.

“Well I don't want to get too technical on you, Weaver, but the crater was probably made
after
the images were created.”

Weaver laughed.

“I'm not an idiot, Stone. It's just that the images of the plaza show the minaret at the dead center of the plaza. Right where––”

Karch frowned.

“The crater is now.”

“Right.”

Stone paused for a moment then shrugged.

“Weird. But not as weird as this. Come on.”

Stone hustled forward and Weaver followed him toward the white minaret that stood on the edge of the deep crater.

Stone seemed incredibly excited, far more than was good for him. Weaver couldn't conceive of anything that would be as exciting as the library. Accessing the knowledge of Plash through the mind interface was exhilarating. Intoxicating, even.

Weaver peered into the colossal crater. Whatever had collided with the surface must have impacted with incredible force.

“Don't go near the edge, Stone,” Karch said.

They approached the soaring white needle. Three walkways rose up from the plaza to join the three walls of the minaret low on each side. The walkways were wide at the bottom and narrowed rapidly as they curved up to the structure. Weaver studied the building, suddenly interested.

“Have you been inside?”

“No,” Karch said.

“Er, no,” Stone said.

There was something in the way that Stone said it. Nevertheless, Weaver felt her interest waning. It might just be the small matter of the fires of hell, or more properly Jötunn, racing toward them across the surface of Plash at over fifteen hundred kilometers per hour.

Stone came to a halt by the nearest walkway. He gestured Weaver on.

“Go ahead.”

Weaver frowned at Stone as she kept walking.

As soon as she put her foot on the walkway she felt something. She walked into honey and then a padded wall. She leaped back.

Stone grinned.

“Ah hah!”

Frowning, Weaver slowly put her hand out. She could feel it being pushed back. This wasn't right. Magnetic? Gravatic? But that was impossible. She tried to move forward again, stepping slowly. For every centimeter that she moved forward, the resistance on her body increased. She tried to stop, perhaps ten centimeters onto the walkway. Something pushed her back with constant force. She tried to move forward. The force increased exponentially. It was bizarre. It was like––

“It’s magic,” Stone said.

“No,” Weaver said, a little harshly. “I mean, no.”

“Why not?” Karch said.

“We just don't understand, that's all. If this is to do with gravity though...”

Stone laughed.

“Then that would be magic then, wouldn't it?”

Weaver looked up at the minaret, shaking her head. She was dumbfounded. If the forces increased at the same rate all the way to the tower... She couldn't fit the idea into her head.

Karch pointed at the horizon.

“We have to go.”

Weaver turned to look. The bronze sky increasingly resembled a burnished copper. Stone grinned as he pointed at the minaret.

“How good is that?”

Weaver gently pushed him toward the shuttle.

“Let's go, Mister.”

Stone and Karch set off and she followed. She looked back over her shoulder as she walked away.

At the strangest physical phenomenon that she'd ever witnessed.

 84. 

Havoc looked down through the translucent disc from his spectacular position high above the floor of the amphitheater. Kemensky tilted his head back, surveying the scintillating gemstone that provided the ceiling.

“What is this place? And what are those panels?”

Charles pointed at the altar above them.

“Can we?”

Havoc glanced up at the altar as he took Kemensky's arm and guided him away from the edge of the disc. He nodded at Charles.

“Be careful.”

Charles’s face brightened. He climbed toward the altar with Tomas in tow. Charles stopped on the top step, examining the crystalline structure above him. Tomas nudged Charles, urging him to move onto the altar. Havoc decided to move up with them.

“Stay there please, Charles. You coming up, Kemensky?”

Kemensky gazed upward.

“The readings around those tiles are most peculiar.”

“Kemensky?”

“I'll stay here.”

“Ok.”

Havoc climbed the upper staircase and stopped one step below Tomas. He turned to survey the chamber again. This was possibly the most extraordinary place he'd ever been. Charles waved his arm at the expanse of atmo around them.

“They must be able to fly? Don't you think?”

Havoc checked the time.

“We have to go soon. One more minute and we're leaving.”

Kemensky pointed toward one of the tunnels in the ceiling.

“I see something in the pattern. There’s––”

A bright light illuminated the disc around Kemensky from above. Havoc’s shadow fell across Kemensky’s face.

“I...” Charles said.

Havoc whipped around. The altar glowed like an illuminated crystal. It was suffused with a radiance that partly encompassed Charles.

Above Charles, one of the hexagonal tiles in the ceiling lit up. There was a shape there. It looked somewhat formless. As Havoc focused it looked vaguely humanoid. Definitely humanoid. Human, even, wearing a suit.

A voice projected out of the plinth toward Charles.

“Hello.”

Charles mouthed like a fish, dumbfounded, as he stared at the altar.

“You speak our language.”

“It is a function of the system you are accessing to translate between us.”

Charles looked incredulous.

“This system? But how?”

Havoc's mind was reeling. He scanned for threats. Nothing seemed different.

“The system has observed you since you entered. It has scanned you for all sense response and higher order associations and your communication with your others. It has mapped these appropriately.”

“Already?”

“It is successful at what it does. Can you tell me your identity-and-purpose?”

The last three words were run together as if a foreign concept was being roughly translated.

If there was one thing a Royal Prince knew how to do, it was how to introduce himself. Charles's back straightened in a reflex action as he assumed the posture suitable to his station and superior breeding.

“I am Prince Charles Jaegar-Paladin of the Falas System of the Neuworld Empire of the Alliance of Free Peoples. We are here looking for an energy source.”

Kemensky waved at Havoc.

“What do we do?”

“Energy source?” the voice said.

Charles nodded, projecting an assured demeanor.

“Yes, the source that drives the gravatic beam.”

Kemensky waved his arms, casting to Havoc with panic in his voice.

> Havoc, the protocol.

Kemensky was right – Charles was breaking all the rules.

“The protocol?” the voice said.

Fuck
.