Jeffrey Carver - Eternity's End

Turning to watch Palagren and Ker’sell, he noted their unstirring poses. He did not interrupt them; they were stretching out through the tessa’chron, probing as far into the future as their senses would allow, seeking any whorls or eddies in the flow of time, anything that might suggest the presence of a change or a flaw in the local fabric of spacetime. So far, they’d seen nothing suggestive of the entry point they were looking for. The net sang like a charged high-tension wire as Palagren came to and peered back at Legroeder.

I’d like to retune further, Palagren said. I think we need more sensitivity.

Legroeder frowned. The net was already a roomful of suppressed emotions waiting to erupt. With increased output from the flux reactor, they would shift even further into an experimental operating regime. He wasn’t sure how much more he wanted to experiment. Cantha? Agamem? he called to the bridge. Are you picking up anything useful?

From the bridge, the two Narseil replied in the negative. No movement visible, Cantha said. Not much energy gradient of any kind .

If they wanted to be able to maneuver, they had to do better. Legroeder glanced at the ethereal vision of Palagren, waiting at the front of the net for an answer, then called to Deutsch. Freem’n, will it interrupt your AI scans if we increase the sensitivity further?

I don’t think so.

Was that a trace of nervousness in Deutsch’s voice? Well, they were all nervous. All right, Palagren, let’s go ahead .

Commencing now, replied the Narseil.

Legroeder felt a momentary tingle, followed by a heightened awareness of… what? His heartbeat, pulsing in his ears? Light and shadow, boredom and fear?

It seemed to fluctuate through a variety of responses, as Palagren made cautious adjustments—backing off here, enhancing there. Legroeder’s implants flickered, joining in a circle with the others’, as Palagren gauged the new settings. Legroeder became aware of a smell of the sea that he hadn’t noticed before, of brine and seaweed. Everyone okay with this? he asked softly.

As the others agreed, he disengaged his augments from the circle. The others could use their augments for flying, but he was going to stick with his human senses. Begin cycling the images .

The plan was to try a variety of image types, in hopes of revealing patterns or movement beneath the surface. If the patterns were there, they might well manifest as different images for different individuals.

The first was an undersea vision: a clear and still place, with sunlight slanting down through the water as far as the eye could see. Far off, Legroeder saw floating tufts of seaweed and detritus—perhaps areas of altered density, or mass concentrations in nearby normal-space.

Legroeder was surprised to feel a profound sadness welling up in him for no apparent reason, a feeling of indescribable loss. His thoughts flickered to Tracy-Ace, and he felt himself on the verge of tears. Would he ever see her again? Had she deceived him to get him on this mission? Was he on a fool’s errand? No… he remembered the intimacy of their joining, and refused to believe that it was false.

He drew a sharp breath, startled by the power of the emotion. Good Lord . Glancing around, he realized that everyone in the net seemed preoccupied. Palagren appeared wistful and distracted; Deutsch was concentrating fiercely on the Flux beneath him. Only Ker’sell showed any awareness of Legroeder, and he was staring down at the human with apparent suspicion. Legroeder looked away, hoping he had not let actual images of Tracy-Ace into the net.

Focus outward, he thought. We’re here to fly, not gaze at our navels.

The silence was interrupted by: This is Cantha. Nothing visible on instruments out here.

Nothing here, Deutsch said.

Nothing, said Legroeder.

Ker’sell didn’t answer.

Palagren changed the image again.

The crystal clarity of the seascape closed in, and Phoenix was transformed to an aircraft flying straight and level through solid cloud; the forward motion, of course, was purely an illusion. Legroeder felt his feelings changing with the image. At first he was oppressed by the clouds, but that gave way to a sense of freedom and exhilaration. Not everyone in the net shared the feeling, however. Palagren was focused deeply, as though pondering a mystery. Deutsch’s mood was inscrutable. Ker’sell was snapping his gaze around with angry energy.

Before Legroeder could learn what was bothering Ker’sell, the Narseil changed the image—as though he could not bear the clouds any longer. Dark forms loomed in the fog, then faded back, like dream-shapes. What were those —something they needed to see? Too late: the fog dissipated and the surroundings changed to night. Now they were floating in a glass bubble over a dark, featureless plain.

Featureless plain like the featureless sea.

But was it? Legroeder sensed that something was building beneath the surface. The plain below was not altogether still and motionless; it was smoldering with sulfurous fire. Once he realized that, the fire seemed to spread. In just a few heartbeats, the plain was sprinkled with burning pools of sulfur, reddish orange, like a collection of portals into Hell. Legroeder’s pulse quickened. What do you all see down there? he whispered.

Looks pretty featureless to me, said Deutsch.

Also to me, murmured Palagren.

Was he the only one who saw the fire? Legroeder glanced up at Ker’sell, and knew the answer. The Narseil was staring down from the top gun position, not at the landscape, but at Legroeder. Those weren’t portals down there; that was Ker’sell’s anger. Flickers of fire, of suspicion and rage.

Legroeder spoke softly to Ker’sell. What is it? What’s bothering you?

What’s to tell? Ker’sell’s eyes seemed to say. The Narseil was eaten up by distrust of Legroeder, but he wasn’t going to speak it aloud.

If you think I betrayed you, I did not. Legroeder was surprised by his own calm, in contrast to the smoldering sulfur. I see your anger down there. That’s you, not the Flux, isn’t it?

Ker’sell didn’t answer, but Palagren glanced back at Legroeder in surprise. Palagren clearly didn’t know what Legroeder was seeing, but he also seemed to be struggling with something else. Self doubt? Uncertainty about whether he could fulfill his promise to bring them through this place? Is everything all right with you two? Palagren asked. Then he grunted, as if he suddenly understood.

Perhaps he was glimpsing a moment or two into the future, because Ker’sell suddenly hissed to Legroeder, You work with the enemy, you make friends with them. Do you make love to them, too?

Legroeder was speechless. He had to grope for words to reply. I did not betray you. I did my job. What would we have learned about Impris if we had not come here with this crew?

Something in the Narseil’s eyes brightened and then went dark, and Legroeder couldn’t gauge the effect of his words. But below the ship the image suddenly changed again—the seething landscape dissolving to reveal something moving beneath it, a shadow under the molten surface.

Wait! Legroeder cried, as the image began to fade away. Did you see that?

The others looked, but whatever he had seen was gone now, and the sulfur with it. Perhaps it was just a reflection of all the disturbances in the net.

He shook his head as the images continued to evolve. They were high above ground in night flight, a weblike array of thousands of tiny nodes of liquid light sprawled out on the surface below. The array seemed to loom out of an infinity of darkness, as though they might fall down through the spaces between the threads, into some other universe altogether. This reminds me of our homeworld, Palagren said suddenly, with wistful longing in his voice. From Ker’sell, there was an even stronger reaction. He seemed to be struggling with a desire to break out of the net, to dive into that world and leave all of them behind.