Martyn Vaughan - The Cave of Shadows

‘And why would they make this journey?’ Jorl interjected, ‘to exchange gifts and give each other a big kiss?’

‘No. The Protectorate needs other cultures for one purpose only – to battle and conquer. And after this new world had been conquered a new Protectorate would arise. And then they could fight that.’

‘What – their own descendants!’

Shev buried her face in her hands.’ Yes! yes! They would do that! They believe that only conflict justifies existence. Without enemies there is no point in living!’

‘And where do Korok and this Maroun character fit in?’ Jon demanded, conscious that he was perhaps pushing this frightened woman too hard.

‘Maroun and others were part of an elite group of powerful men. They gave Korok the job of launching this starship. That’s all I know!’

Shana36 patted her on the shoulder and took over the explanation.

‘The Protectorate decided to launch an expeditionary force to this star just as – as my – uhh – sister Shana said. And it was five hundred years ago, give or take a few years. We were their chosen warriors who would do the preliminary work of subjugating the native people, if there were any, and then begin terraforming the planet.’

‘And we were in stasis for all of that five hundred years?’ Jon asked.

‘Indeed we were. The simulation gave us just enough stimuli to keep our brains ticking over, for in truth we were all a few microns away from death, given that our metabolisms were so low. But those stimuli were on the simulation’s time which was much slower than real-time. So all the events we experienced, our struggles to get to the Hill, our lives on the Hill, they seemed like a few months’ worth of time to us but in reality …’

‘It was five hundred years,’ Jon finished for her.

‘Yes, but not quite. About two hundred years after launch this vessel passed into a void in the interstellar medium which greatly increased the cosmic ray flux hitting it. Many more high energy particles than allowed for penetrated the hull and disrupted the systems. The records don’t show what I’m about to say but I think it’s a likely conclusion.

‘The cosmic ray flux must have affected a few individuals in the stasis pods and somehow removed the Protectorate’s conditioning. You said you both went through a period when you began to doubt the reality of your surroundings. That would have been sometime after the cosmic ray burst.’

Jon turned to his Shana. ‘So the Lords of the Sands, Akraz and Zarka, the troubles on the Hill. All those events played out over three hundred years or so in real-time. Between one of our thoughts and the next this vessel was plunging through huge stretches of empty space. After each one of our thoughts was a day, a week – a month. Who knows?’

The incredible revelation threw a blanket of silence over all of them. They envisaged those rows of stasis pods, each containing a life; each brain holding a little flicker of thought, guttering back and forth on the edge of oblivion as the great vessel that held them like bacteria in its metal gut, plunged endlessly on through kilometre after kilometre of empty blackness.

Finally, Jon turned back to Shev; doubtingly; questioningly. ‘But five hundred years? Why such an incredible time?’

Shev had recovered somewhat and raised her pinched, drawn face to look at her companions.

‘The ship is moving at a large percentage of lightspeed but not a relativistic percentage. That’s why we were in stasis in the first place. It’s the only way biological beings such as we could make such a journey as this.’

‘A war fought over these vast distances and times would hardly be that fast moving.’

Shana36 shrugged. ‘The Protectorate believes that it is the final state of mankind, that its rulers will be the dispensers of life and death for the rest of human history. They are in this for the long run. No, make that – forever!’

Jorl suddenly broke into the conversation. ‘Hey! Let’s look on the bright side. Surely the journey must be nearly over! We’ll be able to get out, stretch our legs, sample the local cuisine, visit a wine cellar or two!’

Jon looked at Shev and Shana36, reflecting as he did so that Jorl’s experiences in the simulation appeared to be quite different from his. However, nothing in Jorl’s words had lightened their mood.

‘Isn’t what Jorl said true?’ he asked the pair. ‘Minus the wine cellars.’

Shev gave a wan smile. ‘Yes, I think the journey is nearly over. But from what I read in there it wasn’t just the conditioning of a few individuals that the cosmic ray burst wrecked – it was also the guidance mechanisms of this ship. We’re out of control.’

“Out of control.”

Had those few words sealed all their fates, Jon wondered.

Only a short while ago they had thought themselves reasonably safe in some large building somewhere in a normal reality. But the truth was they were inside some structure of unknown dimensions and properties that was hurtling through interstellar space to some distant star system. Did fate have any more cruel tricks to play? he wondered; trying to push the black tide of despair back down into his subconscious.

But one thing was certain. Surely seven people would not be enough to change the situation in any meaningful way. If they had any chance of saving themselves they would have to have more allies. They would have to go back into the Educator.

He decided that he had to give the women a recuperation period and not ask them to accompany him; besides, they might suffer from the same problem as his Shana and not be able to get into others’ minds.

He told the men what was needed and immediately Jarm said that he couldn’t do it. Jon did not argue: the last thing he wanted was someone panicking in the depths of the Educator. The other two accepted his plan, though with obvious reluctance and equally obvious grim expressions.

He crossed to what he hoped was the original Shana and hugged her. ‘Here we go again.’

She responded by giving him his first kiss in the real world.

It was better than he had imagined it to be in the cave of shadows.

Soon the three men were in the almost palpable blackness of the Educator. Once again there were no softly glowing polyhedra: it appeared that the time for their second lesson was not nigh.

They visualised the Stasis Room and they found themselves looking at the Educator’s schematic representation. Like the ghosts of mythology, their minds hovered above the pods and their comatose inhabitants.

Jon sent a thought into the network: Get ready – On my comm… ’

But his thought was cut short by an urgent message from Jarz.

Jon – we’re not alone! Someone else is in here with us!

Jon sent his mental probes in all directions as that message’s import became clear.

Then he felt it.

It was as if swimmers some distance from the shore had felt something immense and powerful pass not far beneath their dangling feet.

This was not another one of his band. This was not Jarm or Shev.

The identity of the intruder was not long hidden.

In the darkness a great face appeared, much larger than Maroun’s had been.

It was the strong face of a heavy-boned man with a firm powerful jaw, heavy brow ridges and eyes that projected a chilling radiance.

And then the face smiled.

A smile that was the quintessence of pure terror.

They heard his voice in their minds and although there was no sound, could not be any sound, it felt as if their whole being was being shaken by the power of that voice, a voice that was the embodiment of two massive landslides colliding at the bottom of a valley.

You are brave men , the great face said, I, Korok, admire that. Only courage and fortitude separate us from the beasts and you have much of that. But it will not be enough .