Chapter 20
IT TOOK THEM three days to find the first of the Sellite ships. It was coming in on a vector from the direction of Xiantha, heading straight for Kwaide. Six was the nearest.
He made sure the Resistance was on an automatic course, and then he signed to Arcan, and ‘showed’ him the position of the enemy ship. Arcan transported him instantly across the intervening thousands of miles of space, and deposited him safely in the stasis hold of the other spacecraft. Six instantly detached a tiny piece from the new orthogel bracelet around his ankle, and deposited it behind one of the consoles, fairly sure that it would remain there totally undetected. In any case Arcan could move it if it were noticed. At least he would now be able to ‘find’ this ship anywhere it went. They were no longer blind.
Six looked around. The layout was exactly the same as that of the Resistance. The weapons should be two corridors down, and to the rear of his current position.
He began to search for the weapon bay, ‘showing’ Arcan his progress. If he were discovered, he wanted to have led the orthogel entity as close as it needed to be to the nuclear warheads. He hoped he would have plenty of time, but nothing had been left to chance. It was too important for any slip-ups.
At last he found it. There were three crated missiles with radiation warnings posted very clearly. There wasn’t much doubt what they were. He shivered. He hated to think of the damage just one of these things could do. And if each ship were carrying three! They would have enough blast to completely demolish all three camps many times over.
He ‘showed’ Arcan the position of the three deadly tubes, and slipped a tiny piece of orthogel under each one. Then he quickly signed on the orthogel bracelet, which had regained its previous size.
“Get me out of here, Arcan!”
In a second he was enveloped in a bubble of orthogel, and back on the Resistance. He breathed out slowly, and then sat down to contact the girls.
“That went really well,” he told them. “I was able to leave small pieces of orthogel under all three warheads, so there should be no problem, when the time comes.”
“It took you forever, nomus,” said Diva.
“I was in and out within five minutes!” he retorted.
“Exactly. It should only have taken you three minutes, according to our calculations.”
“So sorry, your huffiness, I’ll do better next time.” He pulled on an imaginary forelock.
“Make sure you do!”
Grace giggled. “You did great Six! I just hope it goes as well with all the other ships – and on Valhai.”
“Piece of cake. Unless Arcan happens to transport us straight into one of the holding cells, of course, or on top of some unsuspecting Sellite!”
“Well, one down and however many to go!”
It took them five more days, alternating the task from one ship to the other, to tag the six Sellite ships currently on a course for Kwaide. Then they left Six in the Resistance to mop up any latecomers, and Arcan transported Diva and Grace, together with the Variance, over to Valhai. The girls thought that they had definitely been given the worst part of the job.
“Trust Six to skive off and take the easy option,” said Grace. “I don’t see how on Almagest we are going to be able to pinpoint all the warheads stored here in Sell. It is a mammoth task. There might be thousands of them, for all we know.”
“There aren’t,” said a voice, and Grace jumped about a metre straight up in the air.
“Don’t DO that! You nearly caused a heart spasm.”
The little globe appeared in front of her, deactivating its blending technology. “Sorry,” it whirred. “I forgot you couldn’t see me.”
“How do you know how many nuclear weapons there are on Valhai?” asked Diva.
“Because I have been following your Sellites around for the last week,” the brain behind the machine told her. “Once I have the blending mechanism correctly adjusted I am invisible to anybody – as you have just seen. And since you decided to leave the Kwaide International Orbital Station before I got there I came back to see how I could make myself useful to Arcan.”
“Big of you.”
“Yes, wasn’t it?”
“So what did you find out?” demanded Diva.
“There are three separate storage depots which you will have to breach,” it said. “I can tell you where they are, but unfortunately I am unable to ‘show’ Arcan any of them yet, so that will have to be your job.”
“Don’t say we can do something you can’t do!” said Diva. “Who would have thought it!”
“It is only a temporary incapacity. Once Arcan has visited me here on the spacecraft we are hopeful that some sort of symbiosis may be attained. I have agreed that you may accompany him, once all these weapons have been located.” There was a definite reluctance in the metallic voice.
Diva raised one eyebrow. “Really? That sounds interesting.” She and Grace exchanged glances. “Will we all fit on board your ship?”
“It was hardly meant to accommodate type 3b life-forms. It would be like trying to fit a giant decipus in a jam-jar. However, Arcan insisted on you all being present, and his wishes must naturally be respected.” The small sphere hummed in a rather dissatisfied way. Grace grinned at Diva, whose eyes were full of amusement.
“We have decided to bring my ship on board the the Variance, and then Arcan can visit me, whilst ‘showing’ you all his every movement. He thinks that this way you will be able to experience everything that he does. He says that if he encompasses all of you and the two ships in the same bubble he will be able to allow you to participate.”
“Whatever Arcan wishes,” said Diva. “We will be honoured to visit your ship.”
“I know,” whirred the machine. “When I think how many species have been denied access, only to have to provide it to three vulgar specimens like you.” It seemed almost about to cry.
“Never mind. Look on the bright side,” Diva pointed out to the little machine. “At least Six won’t be actually getting into your tank with you!”
A short burst of static indicated that the machine was having trouble translating the visitor’s opinion of Six. “Grchkkssk! grcksskksch!”
“I couldn’t have put it better myself,” said Diva politely.
GRACE WAS WEARING a full bodywrap and was wearily climbing the outside of the 232nd skyrise, one of the deposits of weaponry detected by the traveler. Cian was hanging overhead, indigo in a dark sky, and she was trying to concentrate on breathing correctly. The little machine was hovering irritatingly around her head as she climbed, and she was fighting a temptation to bat it away.
“Can’t you go any faster?” complained the visitor.
“No,” she gasped, “I can’t. Will you stop talking to me please!”
“Why? Can’t you do two things at the same time? Are you that basic?”
“I am surreptitiously scaling a skyrise. Don’t you think it might be better to do it silently?”
“Why? The Sellites are all exophobic. They aren’t going to be standing around on the terrace, now are they?”
Grace suppressed a groan. This new alien was very irritating. “Why do you always sound so sure of yourself?” she asked, and then put a weary hand up. “No, don’t bother answering! I already know what you are going to say …”
“… Do you? What?”
“That you are a type 2a.”
“… Most interesting. Perhaps you do show some of the characteristics of a type 3a.”
Grace was forced to laugh, and then regretted it, because her mask pack blocked, and she had to fight for breath for a few moments.
“Just because I knew what you were going to say?” she asked.
“Quite. As I said, telepathy is one of the signs of a type 3a progression.”
“Hmm.” She thought of Six’s face if the Sellites were elevated to a class higher than the Kwaidians, and couldn’t resist. “I often know what you are going to say.”
“Interesting. I will have to consult.” The machine subsided into silence, and Grace pulled herself onto the terrace.
“OK,” she said. “Get Arcan to take you in through one of the orthotubes. Are you sure you can open the biolock?”
“I hacked into the system two days ago. It will present no difficulty.”
“Fine. I will wait for you here.” The orb vanished, and Grace moved to an inconspicuous corner of the terrace to wait. She was tired from the climb, but it felt great to be back on Valhai. There was nothing to touch it anywhere she had seen so far, she thought. Kwaide and Coriolis were all very well, and it was nice to have natural air to breathe, and to be able to be outside without a bodywrap. But Valhai – Valhai gave you an idea of the size of the rest of the universe. Just the slate grey and dark purple shades mixed into an inky black. The brilliant colour of Cian– an electric violet, high up in a star-studded sky. The brightness of the stars, which hurt your eyes if you looked at them for long. Nothing could compare to Valhai. She knew that she would always miss it if she were away, and felt a moment’s intense sadness that, because of everything that had happened, she was unlikely to spend much time in the future on the planet. She gave a sigh.
The biolock opened with a hiss of escaping air, and she moved towards the entrance of the skyrise. No time to think about all that now. She had a job to do.
DIVA WAS CREEPING slowly into the Valhai Voting Dome, trying to make herself as small as possible. The bulk of the nuclear warheads were stored here, and the security measures were comprehensive. She had volunteered for this part of the job because she knew it was by far the most dangerous. Just getting into the Dome was proving almost impossible. She wondered how Six was getting on above Kwaide. So far they had met no problems marking all the weapons on board the Sellite ships, but she knew that they couldn’t assume that such good luck would hold forever.
She had managed to get through the various doors to the chamber itself thanks to the visitor, who had kept a careful watch over the previous few days, and had passed on to her the codes which would open the doors. Now she was in the central chamber. According to the visitor, she simply had to skate around the edges of the room, and take the corridor which would lead down into a subsurface vault which was acting as a depository for the remaining weapons. This was where she was going to have difficulty: the rooms were guarded by electronic surveillance at all times, and even the visitor had been unable to detect all of the systems used. She slipped down the dark corridor towards the vault, hardly daring to breathe. They only had one chance to get the job done. If she failed, there would be a general alarm raised, and the Sellites would realize what was going on. Arcan would be forced to act, and Diva wasn’t sure how Grace’s two missions were going, or if there were more ships en route for Kwaide.
She became aware of a whirring sound in her right ear, and batted at it with her hand. She connected with something dense and painful, and realized that the visitor had sent his little machine to join her.
“Ouch!” She sucked the base of her hand. “Cian! That hurt!”
“You should have known it would be me.”
“Probably. Now shush, I am trying to figure out how to incapacitate through the surveillance system.”
“All you have to do is emit a jammer.”
“Yes! If I could do that I probably would have—hang on a minute, can you do that?”
“I can, but I am uncertain as to whether any further intervention would be justified or not.”
“Then,” Diva gritted her teeth, and heroically resisted the temptation to chip a few slivers off the machine with her dagger, “I shall just have to do it myself.”
“If you are capable. I am not confident of the outcome.”
“Neither am I. So if you can help by blocking the sensors, now would be a good time to do it.”
“No, I am sorry. Dessia informs me that I have already exceeded my brief in helping you to detect the position of the armament, although they say that they are willing to overlook it since it could be construed as helping Arcan. They tell me that I may only observe from now on.”
“Hope you have a front seat. Chocolate and sweetfruits in the intermission. You will have to talk to my agent about overseas rights.”
“I do not understand.”
“NO? Well, that IS a surprise for a class 2a species, right? Maybe you are all not so bright as you think?”
“Our intelligence cannot be doubted. We have a far greater capacity than you do.”
“Perhaps,” Diva said grimly, “you should try applying it a bit more, then.”
“I shall observe in silence from now on,” the machine informed her stiffly.
“What took you so long!” she muttered.
SIX WAS SLEEPING the sleep of the just when the proximity alert went off with a vengeance. He scurried over to the control panel, and gave a silent whistle at what he saw there. Not just one Sellite ship – but four!
He signed to Arcan as he pulled on some clothes, and wasted no time. As soon as he had been transported to the first, he marked the ship with orthogel, and hastened down to the munitions bay. He had to hurry – with four ships to mark, it would be touch and go whether his ship would be detected before he was finished.
The first two ships went well, but as soon as he set foot on the third ship he knew that something had gone wrong. An alarm was wailing over his head.
Quickly he tagged the ship with a small piece of orthogel, and broke into a run as he headed for what he hoped would be the weapons bay, the howling alarm sending shivers up and down his spine.
He skidded to a halt beside the three missiles, ducked down behind them and efficiently tagged each one in record time. Then he was pressing on the orthogel bracelet again as several operatives stormed into the cargo bay with lasers at the ready.
He didn’t know if they had seen him or not, but he knew that he had to tag the last missiles in the fourth ship. Even three of those deadly warheads would be enough to evaporate all the rebel strongholds. He visualized the control panel of the Resistance, willing Arcan to hurry.
It was the work of a second to track the current position of the last Sellite ship, and ‘see’ the weapons bay. He knew he had no time to play it safe.
Arcan transported him directly to where the last three missiles were being held, but there was a shout as he materialized. He ducked down behind the missiles, rolling one larger piece of orthogel underneath them in case he had no time for more.
The air began to hiss with lasers, and he could see the storage bay lit up by the rays. There were shouts between the Sellite crewmembers, and he had no choice but to press down on the rest of the orthogel around his ankle. Just as Arcan transported him back to the Resistance, he felt a burning sensation to the outside of his eye, and then he lost consciousness.
DIVA WAS SURROUNDED by Sellites. She had tripped just one of the many alarms and had been given only thirty seconds time after that. She had used them well, sprinting to the base of the vault, and locating the heaped crates of missiles. She at least had been able to visualize the positions of the crates, she thought.
Her fingers frantically signed to Arcan, and she was instantly surrounded by a bubble. She ‘showed’ Arcan all the positions of the missiles as soon as she saw that he could hear her.
“I have them, Diva, good job!” He told her.
“No, no!” she panted. “They know what we are doing now. We have to act straight away. You have to move all of the missiles before they have time to locate the orthogel markers in the spaceships. If we lose those spaceships again …”
“I will do so, Diva. Please relax – you are perfectly sa—”
There was a bright orange flash, the orthogel bubble disintegrated, and Diva dropped unconscious on the magmite floor of the subsurface vault.
Figures appeared through the remnants of the orange glow, and shackled the Coriolan girl to some sort of a magnetic plate.
Atheron appeared, alerted by his forces.
“So kind of you to call,” he told her with one of his false smiles. “I think you might find it rather harder to get out than you did to get in!”
The girl sagged against the tethers which constrained her. She heard nothing. Atheron smiled again. He was pleased to see that all their research had paid off. It was just a question of time, he thought to himself. Everything had a weak spot. It just took time to find it. And it looked most satisfyingly as if they had finally found the weak spot of the orthogel entity. Perhaps it would no longer try to meddle in Sell business! He walked tall. It was a good day for him.
He didn’t see the small globe as it buzzed anxiously around Diva. The machine was still transmitting to its brain counterpart. It had been unaffected by the orange burst. But it made no sound now, maintaining a discreet silence.
Grace was nearly at the top of the 10th floor of the 451st skyrise, the second place detected as a depository of nuclear weapons, when she heard the frantic buzzing of the video camera. It reached her head, raced around her once, and gave a series of urgent squawks.
“What is it? Whatever is the matter?”
“Diva has been caught. Arcan is hurt.”
“ARCAN? How?”
The machine explained about the orange glow. “… and the bubble of orthogel surrounding Diva simply collapsed,” it finished. “Arcan disappeared.”
“And Diva has been captured?” Grace’s heart gave an ominous lurch. Think, Grace, think! What has to be done? You have to finish the job in hand first. Get the markers on the rest of the missiles. That has to be a first priority. “Can you get into this skyrise?” she asked.
The little machine whirred. “I can navigate the orthotubes on my own, I think. I know the way now.”
“Then let me in here please. I will tag the remaining missiles, and then you and I will figure out a way to save Arcan. If you are allowed to intervene, that is?”
The globe sputtered, and then replied, “Aid for the orthogel entity is approved at this time.”
“Then let’s get started,” she said. “I have to assume Arcan will recover in a short time – it must only have been a local effect. So that means as soon as he recovers he will move the missiles. And the Sellites know all about us now, so he will have to transport all the missiles. Then he will be able to do something about all this. Yes, my first job is clear.”
“I agree. Your logic would appear to be surprisingly correct, given your basic parameters.”
“Then let’s get started.”
The machine clicked, and then soared up over the top of the skyrise, getting tinier and tinier until it disappeared altogether. Grace watched it leave, and then panicked as she realized that she had blocked her own mask pack by breathing too quickly. Dizziness made her bend double as she desperately tried to regulate her breathing once more.
She was still in some distress when the tiny machine opened the biolock for her.
“The alarms are all ringing,” he told her. “But the ortholifts are not working either, and so the Sellites would have to use the outside ladders to get down to this level. You have plenty of time.”
Grace hoped that the visitor was right. She herself felt a frantic need to hurry, to get to Diva and Arcan, to help them in some way. She took the corridor at a run.
The machine had been correct about one thing: there were no Sellites down on this level. She placed the markers on the final set of missiles, and then sprinted back to the terrace. She and the machine let themselves out, she adjusted the mask pack, and then lowered herself over the edge of the terrace and onto the metal rungs leading down.
Almost immediately she heard a faint shout. Looking up, she saw that the Sellites had dared to venture out of their protected atmospheres. She gulped, and again had trouble with her mask pack.
“They have lasers.” The machine informed her.
Grace bit her lip, and began the slow descent. She had twelve floors of steps to negotiate and then about a kilometre across the planet until she could let herself into the donor skyrise. At least, she supposed that that was the only place she could go. With no Arcan, it was a start. First she had twelve floors of metallic rungs with people shooting at her. It was really hard to breathe calmly with all that running around in her mind.
She swung around to the inside face of the ladder, to make herself less of a target, and began to half climb, half drop through the space between the floors. She needed to get a good few more floors between herself and the Sellites above, although they were obviously affected by their exophobia: their aim was thankfully far from accurate.
Grace slipped and dangled and fell and struggled down the steps, relying on the bodywrap to survive the friction burns which the desperate descent was causing. More than once she was left hanging off one hand, her body almost pulling the arm out of its socket. Still the plunge continued. The little orb tumbled effortlessly down beside her, keeping her company.
At last she reached the rexelene blocks, and was finally able to fling herself bare planet. She took off as fast as she could and raced across the sand towards her old skyrise.
Wake up, Arcan, she wished. Please wake up. We are completely lost without you. Not only was she worried sick about the orthogel entity, but if he were injured then all the work tagging the missiles would have been for nothing, and Kwaide would continue to be in imminent danger.