by Deborah J. Ross, writing as Deborah Wheeler
Chapter 35
The domed foyer lead to a spacious
chamber, equally deserted and lined with therine. The air was cold but
surprisingly fresh. The colorless light reminded Eril of times during the war
when he=d
gone without sleep for days, running on stimulants and adrenalin. His mouth
tasted stale and metallic.
They followed the rail westward as it
disappeared down a narrowing tunnel. Their footsteps, muffled by the tube
socks, made faint, rustling echoes. After a short distance, Raerquel paused to
run its sturdy lower tentacles along the therine-coated walls.
"What are you looking for?"
Eril asked.
"Transport vehicle," the
gastropoid replied. "Even shielded from above, we are not going to crawl
all the way to Mountains-of-Darkness."
An oval door, truncated at floor level,
slid open under Raerquel=s
manipulations. A long, narrow platform glided out on to the rail. Unlike the
flat transport they had used before, this one was walled on three sides and had
a bullet-nosed front and a gently arching roof.
At Raerquel=s
urging, the humans climbed on board, crouching under the roof. The platform was
too narrow for them to sit side by side, so they nestled in a row like spoons.
It took a few minutes for everyone to get settled, first the two women, then
Lennart behind them.
Eril started to climb in back, but
Kithri pulled him down between her and Brianna. He lowered himself into place,
his slightly bent legs on either side of hers. Her damp curls smelled of the
sea. He realized he was cradling her between his knees as a co-pilot would. The
dark, curving tunnel loomed in front of them.
Raerquel crawled aboard, flattening
itself to fit in the compressed space. They began to slide along the
underground rail, rapidly gaining momentum. Their movement was smooth and
almost silent, except for the air streaming past. Any resemblance to Eril=s
first duoflight down a Manitou tunnel vanished at once. This was much
more like slipping through the greased tubes in the Academy scramble course.
The nose piece sheltered them from the worst of the wind, but from time to time
the chill air tugged at Eril=s
damp hair.
After a short distance, a second rail
appeared on the tunnel ceiling. It dipped down until the carrier was anchored
at both top and bottom. Once they were underway in earnest, the diffuse
lighting disappeared. Occasional isolated spots passed so quickly they seemed
no more than flickers in the darkness.
"Eril?" Kithri turned and
spoke over her shoulder, her voice a reedy whisper against the hiss of their
passage. "Do you think we=ve
still got a chance?"
"Raerquel must think so, or it
wouldn=t
have come halfway across the continent for us." The gastropoid couldn=t
see their translator panels, but Eril kept his voice low.
"But couldn=t
it have...just to save us? To take us to a safer place..." Eril heard the
undertones of anguish in her voice. He didn=t understand what it was, only that it
had nothing to do with Raerquel.
"After the way it skipped out on
us when we were no longer any use?" Lennart said from in back of them.
"Not likely."
"Raerquel=s
just as dedicated to peace as it always was," Brianna said. "We just
don=t
understand its motives very well. I was wrong...about a lot of things. I
confused personal affiliation with goal-alliances. What matters now is that
Raerquel succeed, even though the odds are dismal. What=s
the good of refraining from cultural interference when the result is no culture
at all? How can I justify sitting back like some damned observer when there=s
even the remotest chance?"
She flinched as if a bomb had just
exploded nearby. There was no sound except the hiss of the air streaming by.
"I=ve
been so sheltered, so--spoiled all my life. Golden girl, golden career,
what could go wrong? Oh, I studied all the sociocultural ramifications
of war, but I never..." She flinched again. "I thought the cave-in
was the worst thing that could happen to me."
Eril turned his head to look at her.
"Are you all right?"
"All right? Will any of us ever be
all right?"
I can=t
change what happened to her, he thought, can=t
give her back the person she was before those three days in the dark. She
was, he realized, damaged in a way that could never be healed, just as Kithri
was.
Just as he was.
Albion...
"I survived, then and now,"
Brianna went on. "By all rights, I shouldn=t have lived through either disaster,
but I did. Just as we will now. Maybe there=s a reason, maybe we were meant to
succeed..."
"Maybe," said Kithri,
"we can make that happen, whether it was meant to or not."
By all the powers of luck and space,
Eril thought, I hope she=s
right.
oOo
Eril=s muscles ached from sitting still. He=d
been half-hypnotized by the rocking movement of the transport and the
monotonous whoo-oosh of their passage through the tunnel. He hadn=t
noticed when the lighted ceiling strips reappeared. The vehicle slowed, then
came to a stop in a large rectangular room with generously wide exit ledges.
"City-of-Darkness," Raerquel
said in as quiet a voice as Eril heard any gastropoid produce.
"We made it," Brianna said.
Her voice was light, almost breathless, her eyes fever-bright.
The climb to the inhabited levels
grated on Eril=s
nerves. The angles of the ramps were all wrong for human legs, but Raerquel
undulated up them at a rapid pace. After a sustained climb, long enough for
Eril=s
muscles to become cramped and burning, they emerged into a rounded intersection
of therine lined tunnels. The few gastropoids they met hurried about on
their own business.
Suddenly one of them called out.
"Raerquel! Clan-superior Raerquel!"
"What news, Duvach?" Raerquel
called back. "You are unharmed? Any major damage to the city here?"
"We are safe for the moment. But
after you left, Ru-elliven halted all work on the project. The other Council
members were forced to agree. Even if the mind linkage can work, it is now too
late."
"And you, Duvach? Are you thinking
it is too late for understanding instead of destroying?"
"You are my clan-superior and have
taught me otherwise. It is never the time to be giving up hope."
As they talked, the two gastropoids
slithered up the corridor at a brisk pace, leaving the humans to follow. Kithri
stumbled and had to run a few steps to keep up. She stared at the tunnel walls
with a peculiar, almost mesmerized expression on her face.
Eril caught her as she tripped again.
"You=d
better watch where you=re
going."
"Eril, these are jaydium
tunnels." Her face had gone chalky, her eyes dark and haunted.
"And this stuff on the walls--this therine--it will become our
jaydium."
"But there isn=t
any jaydium on this world," Brianna said in a puzzled voice.
"They=re
jaydium tunnels, all right," Kithri answered in a deadly calm voice.
"How could I fly them as I did--and hate them as I did--and not know them
now?"
A thought snaked through Eril=s
mind, If we somehow manage to stop this war, how will that change things in
our own world? If there=s no
jaydium, will there still be a Stayman, an Albion, a Fifth Fed? Will our world
die if this one lives? And even if we knew that it did, would we have any
choice in what we do now?
oOo
They came quickly to a smaller,
downscaled version of the railway depot. The vehicles here were the familiar
land transport platforms without any siding or nose cones. Raerquel and Duvach
boarded the nearest, followed by the four humans.
They started off slowly. Eril studied
the branching passages and tried to imagine them as the Stayman tunnels after
some cataclysm had wrenched them into corkscrews. He didn=t
want to think what would happen to all of them, should they be inside the
tunnels when that happened. If it happened, he reminded himself.
They traveled deeper into the mountain,
though there was no discernible change in the lighting or freshness of the air.
Eril wondered how many tons of rock hung above them or how much firepower it
would take to penetrate this far. Being underground couldn=t
be easy for Brianna, that was sure. She was sitting behind him and Lennart had
one arm around her shoulders. She stared ahead, her features set, as if she
were mentally working navigational problems -- or whatever tedious and
demanding calculations she did in her field. Her fingers laced together,
knuckles white like bare bones.
Raerquel brought the platform to a halt
at the side of a narrow tributary tunnel. They all climbed off. "The
laboratory is now only a short distance."
At first the sound was so low Eril felt
it only as a vibration. Before his mind could grasp what was happening, it
escalated, rumble upon intensifying rumble. Pieces of therine tumbled
from the walls and smashed into powder. Behind him, Brianna screamed, but her
voice was soon lost.
Eril=s senses went painfully acute. Each
shard of therine, each mote of dust, each quiver of the rock beneath his
feet, each sound--even the harsh breathing of the others--all etched indelibly
on his mind. For an awful moment, his body wouldn=t move. Therine fragments, sharp
as knives, came tumbling off the wall in jagged sheets. They crashed on the
exact spot where he would have been if he hadn=t paused. He jumped backward, sweating
cold.
Every instinct urged Eril to get away,
back down the tunnel. Brianna and Raerquel were nearest the platform. He
gestured to them to go back, then reached for Kithri, who was standing right
beside him--
Suddenly a giant fist of air slammed
into him. Curling and rolling, he came smack against something hard and cold.
Fist-sized rocks, dust and pieces of therine showered over him. He laced
his hands protectively over the base of his skull.
A rain of stones struck him with
bruising force. One hit his spine directly. A bolt of searing pain lanced
through him. For a moment he couldn=t
breathe, couldn=t
move, couldn=t
feel his legs. Fire filled his head. He choked, hardly feeling a therine
sliver from the ceiling slash through his outer arm. Luck was with him and it
was only a superficial cut.
More rock cracked, toppling, adding
dust to the splintered therine. At his back, Eril felt the curve of
another warm body.
Let it be Kithri. Let her be all right.
Then a thought shivered through him. Maybe it would be
better if she were killed right away, rather than have to dig her way out and
slowly die here in the dark, maybe alone. He thought of the scars on Brianna=s
hands.
The noise decreased suddenly, then rose
again with more falling rock. Eril pulled himself into a tighter ball, his eyes
squeezed shut. Then, suddenly, there was silence.
Eril waited for ten heartbeats, then
ten more. Finally he dared to open his eyes. His lashes were wet and sticky. He
dabbed at them with the back of one hand, but only made his eyes water worse.
He sat up, blinking and waiting for his tears to wash the debris from his eyes.
The light was dim and uneven, a fraction of its former brightness.
"Kithri? Kithri!
Lennart--Brianna?" With every syllable, the light panel on his chest leapt
to brightness, casting eerie shadows. "Raerquel, are you all right?"
It hurt to swallow, to force the muscles of his throat into the pattern of
speech.
Someone touched his shoulder--Kithri,
her skin ghosty with dust except for one blood-dark cheek. Dust caked her damp
curls. He grabbed her and buried his face against her neck. Her muscles
tightened as she held on to him.
"Oh my god..." Behind them,
Lennart had struggled to a sitting position. He gestured in the direction of
the transport platform.
Rock and splintered therine
completely blocked the tunnel and spilled out along the landing. Brianna=s
foot, still in its sock of gray fabric, shone weakly in the light. The slender
ankle disappeared beneath tons of wreckage.
"Bri!" Kithri struggled to
her feet.
Eril grabbed her elbow, twisting her
around. "It=s
too late!"
Kithri jerked away from him, scrambled
through the debris, and knelt beside the rockfall. She pulled a few of the
smaller chunks of stone and therine and threw them aside. A piece of
rock the size of her head came hurling down, narrowly missing her.
"There=s
nothing you could have done," said Eril.
She sat back and took a deep, sobbing
breath. "It=s
not fair, to have come so far and to end like this."
"Raerquel! Clan-superior,
speak!" That was Duvach. Dust and gashes made a harlequin pattern of its
skin. Raerquel had been at the extreme edge of the rock slide, while Brianna,
standing behind it, had suffered its full force. Frantically Duvach hauled
debris off its fallen leader, using all its appendages, even the fragile upper
tendrils.
Brianna may be beyond our help, but
Raerquel...maybe there=s
still a chance!
Eril raced to Duvach=s side and grabbed whatever he could, rock, therine shards, handfuls of pebbles. Kithri and Lennart worked beside him with equal fervor. Eril=s back cramped, threatening spasm, but he hardly felt it. Fury, red and hot, surged through him, masking his body=s pain. He tore into the rock fall as if it were a tangible enemy, something he could rip apart with his bare hands.
Eril raced to Duvach=s side and grabbed whatever he could, rock, therine shards, handfuls of pebbles. Kithri and Lennart worked beside him with equal fervor. Eril=s back cramped, threatening spasm, but he hardly felt it. Fury, red and hot, surged through him, masking his body=s pain. He tore into the rock fall as if it were a tangible enemy, something he could rip apart with his bare hands.
In a few minutes, they were able to clear away a space around Raerquel=s body. Eril felt a renewed surge of hope. Raerquel=s hide was cool and sleek under his hands. Its head had sunk mostly into its body, its appendages tightly coiled but still visible. Duvach kept calling its name.
"Not dead--it can=t be dead, too!" Kithri whimpered. "Do you hear me, you stupid slug? You can=t die, too!"
"Don=t waste your breath," Lennart said wearily. "It can=t hear you."
"Don=t tell me what I can=t do!" she rounded on him. "We depend on this damned thing, it gets us all the way across the ocean--and then it dies on us--"
She punched the unresponsive gray lump with both fists. Her voice was half a sob and half a scream of raw pain. "You can=t die and leave me here!"
Eril put his arms around her. He felt her loss as if it were his own and knew it was not only
Raerquel she was crying out to. It was everyone who=d ever left her with nothing but a desolate chip of rock--her father, Hank, space only knew who else. And in a strange way, she cried out for him, too, for the fatherless boy he had been, and the young pilot...
She bent her head to his shoulder, weeping openly. Her body, usually so taut and muscular, felt all bones, as if she would shatter at the slightest blow.
"My friends," came a familiar
deep voice. Eril=s
head shot up. Raerquel=s
head was barely discernible above the battered mass of its body. The light
glinted weakly off its silvery hide.
Kithri raised her tear-streaked face.
"You=re
alive..."
"But wounded," Duvach said,
running its delicate sensory tendrils over Raerquel=s
head section.
Raerquel curled one slender upper
tentacle with its old, characteristic grace. "Listen to me, my
human-friends. We have lost the struggle here, but you must not. You must
return...to your own world... You must replicate...all the conditions..."
"Beloved clan-superior, do not be
wasting your life energies with these mammalians," pleaded Duvach. It
wrapped its muscular lower tentacles around Raerquel=s
body, the flesh of one pressing into the other. "I will go for help."
"The...estivation reflex...is too
strong." Raerquel=s
voice was fainter now. Its neck slits fluttered in between each hesitant word.
"Duvach..."
"I am here."
"Take the humans...to the
laboratory...my clan--my clan-inferior... Remember all I have taught you, the
dream that is your true inheritance..."
Raerquel=s voice trailed off. Slowly its head
disappeared entirely into the rounded silvery bulk of its body.
A wave of sudden insight shook Eril. All
this stuff about "clan-superior" and "clan-inferior" has
nothing to do with social status! It means parents and offspring! Duvach
and Bhevon are Raerquel=s
children...
"Dead?" Lennart whispered.
"Estivating," replied Duvach.
Not for long,
Eril realized. It was saying goodbye.
"It is not for me to question the
actions of Raerquel Hath=djan.
I only hope this task, and the extra time it take me before I can bring help,
will not--will not--"
"Duvach," Eril said, laying
one hand on the gastropoid=s
hide. "We would not be the cause of Raerquel=s death. We owe it too much, and
we--admire it. We respect what it was trying to do." His voice almost
failed him. Let=s
go now, as it wished..."
For a long moment, Duvach sat immobile
and Eril feared it was too lost in its own alien emotions to help them. Then it
extended a feathery tendril and brushed Kithri=s cheek. A droplet glistened on the
silvery strand.
"Water . . . salt water. The water
of life."
Behind Duvach=s
heavy, inflectionless voice, Eril sensed its wonderment. Kithri, beside him,
gulped and blinked, more tears streaming down her face.
"My Clan-superior Raerquel was
right all along," Duvach murmured. "The light is in each of us,
however strange our outer forms. Beneath all differentness, our waters flow as
one."
o0o
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