Ammonite Stars (Omnibus): Ammonite Galaxy #4-5 (24 page)

“You want me to move in front of you?”

“Gackck!”

“Then there is no need to push at me. I will go of my own accord.” She showed them what she meant by moving one foot in front of the other and walking towards the nearby ridge. “See?”

But they clearly weren’t satisfied, for the biggest bird came waddling over and pushed at her insistently. They wanted her to move faster.

“All right! I understand. I will go as fast as I can!”

Even so, many of her escort decided not to wait. They simply ran and hopped up the risers of the ridge, and then flung themselves off the top, using the smaller wings which ran along their back legs as horizontal ailerons and stabilizers as they strained to get into an efficient glide. Grace gazed at them as they took off, one after another.

There was a muffled caw from behind her, and she turned to see the biggest of the avians regarding her.

“What? I can’t just glide off like you can …”

It chirruped at her, and then gave a sort of cluck, bowing its head. Another bird behind her nudged her towards the neck.

Grace went white. “I can’t! I have nothing to hold on with!” She held up her mangled hands. “I would fall off!” They couldn’t be suggesting she climbed onto an avian, could they? “It isn’t possible!”

Three birds clustered around her now, and suddenly several amorphs appeared too. There seemed to be some sort of discussion going on, for the amorphs shimmered and glistened in the rays of the sun which were now quite low in the sky. Setting sun! Grace looked around. Twilight would be on them soon, which meant that the wind was about to make its appearance. None of them had much time. She turned to the largest avian.

“I would be safe in the shuttle,” she ventured.

A strident squawk told her that they were not going to accept that as a possible solution.

“Then I will go with you … to the butte. That is where you are going, I presume?”

The birds inclined their heads, and Grace gave a small bow in return. Some communication was better than nothing. “I will make my own way to the butte. The amorphs can come with me. I know where the entrance is, and once we are through that we will be safely out of the wind.”

There was more communication between the amorphs and the avifauna, and then the last birds hopped quickly to the top of the ridge and pushed off with their immensely strong back legs. Soon their open wings gliding toward the butte were all that could be seen.

Grace nodded to the amorphs, and began to run lightly up the steps which the wind had eroded in the first ridge. Then she tracked along the summit for some minutes, before running down the tiered ledges of that ridge and up the smooth risers of the next. She was accompanied by the subjugated amorphs, hovering at eye level and easily keeping up with her. She looked behind her at the setting sun, and tried to pick up her pace, despite the gashes on her back, and the bruises which were telling her to slow down. Whatever else, it would be stupid for her to be caught out in the open when the winds hit. She wouldn’t last a minute.

So she raced as fast as her legs would take her from one ridge to the next, and along them, until at last the butte loomed into view. If she had been on Kwaide, she would never have made it, but luckily gravity was much less here on Pictoria, and each leap seemed to take her at least twice as far as it would have there.

Even so, by the time she reached the entrance to the butte, she was clutching her sides and was completely out of breath. She had no time to waste, for the clouds were already racing overhead and she knew it was a matter of seconds before the front edge of the wind hit them. She scrambled as best she could up the red boulders around the entrance tunnel, and dragged herself hurriedly inside. Even the tunnel held fewer terrors now than staying outside to experience the solid block of pressure that was about to hit. She shimmied along the tunnel like a puffer eel after a flatfish, caring little about whether she was being followed by the small amorphs. Thankfully, the first turn blocked out the wind, already pounding at the entrance, and she could relax.

She made her way more slowly now through the entrance tunnel, coming out into the interior path. Here, she sank to the floor and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Ouch!” One of the amorphs had drifted over to her, and burnt her arm, spinning rapidly against it. “Ow! Now what do you want? All RIGHT! I’m on my way. But I can’t see anything in this light, and I am going to fall over any odd bump in the—” She matched action to words, and ended up with a scraped knee and a cut on her forearm, “—you see?”

She hoped that they would let her rest where she was, but the amorphs were absolutely relentless in their insistence, forcing her on every time she stopped, not willing to allow her any time to rest at all.

She fell over countless times, and ended up hobbling and limping up the slopes. “You should let me stop,” she told them crossly, half crying now with pain and exhaustion. “I can’t go on like this!”

But they didn’t listen. It must have taken hours to cover the distance up the butte. Grace was so tired that she could have dropped where she was and fallen into a blissful sleep. Still the amorphs buzzed around her, harassing and scalding her whenever she seemed to slow down, determined to get her to the top of the butte.

“You should have just killed me,” she grumbled, as they neared the top. “It would have been much cleaner, would have saved you all this trouble.”

One or two of the amorphs flashed, as if amused by her comment. She batted at one of them that got too near. “You nearly made me fall! Keep out of my way!”

Finally she sensed that they were nearly at the main chamber, where the avifauna would be sitting out the windstorm. As she tottered into the large area, she was aware only of the flash of hundreds of eyes shining in the dark, observing her arrival. Then she sank down to the floor and fell into an instant, dreamless sleep, unaware that one of the avifauna had half covered her with one wing.

THE NEW SPACESHIP hovered close to the Kwaide Orbital Space Station, and Arcan appeared on the bridge, where Diva was consulting with Samoso about supplies.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“What took you so long?”

Arcan shimmered, rather disgruntledly, she thought. “It takes a long time to buy things from the Sellites.”

“Buy? They made you
buy
this thing? That must have cost a small fortune!”

“It took all the money accumulated so far in the foundation.”

“WHAT? That is robbery!”

“No, Diva, I told you, I bought it.”

“I meant … Oh, never mind … Hmm … I had better take better care of this one then.”

“Yes. Please don’t blow it up.”

“I didn’t want to blow up the last one! You make it sound like I planned the whole thing; did it for fun.”

“I was merely making a statement. I have no money left to buy another one.”

“All right. I will do my very best to keep this one in good working order.”

“Thank you Diva. Not that I am complaining – I know you saved me from the Dessites.”

“You’re welcome, Arcan. Now, we are taking a few more people than I planned back to Pictoria.” She explained about the extra bodyguards and then went into details about the supplies they were taking. It took Arcan only a moment to get those on board the new ship. He transported Diva directly to the bridge of the new space vessel.

“What are we going to call it?” asked Diva.

“Does it matter?” Arcan gave a shimmer.

“Naturally. I think this should be the Independence, too, right? After all, the first Independence rescued you from the mindmerge. We’ll call her the New Independence.” Diva smiled around at the pristine bulkheads.

Arcan glinted. “Whatever,” he said, sounding so like Six that Diva felt a momentary stab of anguish because she missed the Kwaidian. She straightened her shoulders. “Right. If you can get all of us over to the gas giant, then we can be on our way. Oh, wait! Cimma wanted to pick up somebody else … you will have to talk to her before you take us over to Pictoria.”

Arcan scintillated. “I have spoken to Cimma. We must wait for a few moments.”

“I wish I could know what has been happening to the others. Do you think Grace will be all right? She sacrificed herself for us, you know.”

“I think you all did that. I hope that you will all come out of this alive.”

“Me too. Did you have time to think about some way of getting out of the carbon nanographite traps?”

A shadow ran through the orthogel entity. “Not yet. I will be working on that after I leave you inside the gas giant. By the way, how will I know when to pick you up?”

“You don’t. Perhaps you could travel to exactly the same place you leave us every other day, at the same time? But don’t hang around – if we are not there leave immediately, and try again after another couple of days.”

“Very well. But what if you need me urgently?”

Diva shook her head. “You can’t risk it. You have to work on your own on some sort of mental shielding from the mindmerge and a way to escape any traps set for you with that material they use, and leave us to our fate until you can be sure you are safe.”

“That will not be very easy.”

“No. Believe me, I know. But you don’t have any choice in the matter. That is what we must do. Without you in danger on Pictoria, we will be able to concentrate on getting the Dessites back to Dessia. Mentally, that is.”

“I see. You mean that if I went back I would make everything worse.”

“Exactly! You do understand, don’t you?”

“Of course I understand. My brain is enormous, compared to yours.”

“I know. You have mentioned it before.”

“Yes. Only sometimes I think you don’t listen to everything I say.”

“No? Do you?”

“Yes, I just said so.” The diaphanous shape that Arcan had taken on the bridge of the Orbital Station shimmered again. “Cimma is back, and she is asking me to transport—Oh!”

“What?”

He twinkled. “I think you had better see for yourself. They are in storage hold number 3.”

Diva glared at him, but he had vanished, leaving her standing on her own on the bridge of the new ship. She looked around her for a few minutes, and then made her way down the corridors which would take her to hold number 3.

DIVA WAS NOT the only person to find the contents of the hold interesting. The door was blocked by four other people, all gazing at the contents inside.

“What on Sacras are you all staring at?” she demanded, trying to look through them. “What is going on?”

Cimma made a sign to the others, and they parted to let Diva into the hold. When she stepped inside the large area her jaw dropped.

“Lumina—!”

For there, inside the space ship, and looking extremely pleased with themselves, were six canths, accompanied by the canth keeper. His face lit up when he saw her, and he came forward wreathed in smiles.

“
Valhai
Diva! Thank you so much for thinking of us! You bestow such brilliance of colour that we are speechless.”

He wasn’t the only one. Diva could only point in the direction of the canths and then around the hold, trying to imply that the metallic hold of a space trader might not exactly be the best place for some wild and untrained canths.

The man who spoke to canths smiled. “I know,” he said. “But the canths insisted on coming. They say there is something very wrong on some planet somewhere, and that they must come with us.”

“But … Do they know they are on a spaceship?” Diva stared around the hold, noting the stored bales of hay stacked neatly around the bulkheads and strewn over the metallic floor of the hold. She realized that her own seal brown canth was amongst them, and then was able to pick out the palomino gold of Grace’s, the dapple grey of Six’s, the sorrel of Cimma’s, the yellow dun of Ledin’s and the bay mare which was linked to the man who spoke to canths.

“Oh yes. They know that they must be very quiet. I can sense that they will be calm.”

“Oh. Err … welcome aboard.” Diva glanced at Cimma, thinking privately that she must have gone stark staring mad. This time there was no doubt about it. Nobody in their sane judgement would put livestock loose on a spacecraft. She shook her head, and had opened her mouth to speak when Arcan appeared before them all.

“We are in the upper atmosphere of the purple gas giant,” he said. “I have put you in orbit, but you should navigate out of here as fast as you can. The gravity here is strong, and the atmosphere very corrosive.”

“Yes. I remember.”

“Don’t forget to program this position in the computer. I will check it out every forty-eight hours at exactly this time. Is that all? I shouldn’t stay here for long …”

“No, Arcan, go! We will be all right.” Diva looked around at the assorted group and wondered if that would be true. They didn’t exactly look like the saviours that her friends stranded on Pictoria and the avifauna needed. Then she smiled to herself. There was a saying on Kwaide that even a warthog could be covered in mud. She hoped it applied to Pictoria too.

THE MAN WHO spoke to canths stayed with the equines, his presence a reinforcing comfort to animals who must have found it strange to be trapped inside a metallic shell. He told the others that, if needed, his group of canths would be able to act as a focus for the others of their species, back on Xiantha.

“Yes,” said Diva, “but won’t the Dessites be able to take them over too, like they have the avians?”

The man who spoke to canths shook his head. “The canths seem quite convinced that they are immune to the Dessites. I can feel a … almost a disdain for them. It is as if the canths knew who the Dessites were, and had found them lacking. But I don’t see how that could be possible?”

“Neither do I. After all, the Dessites are 13,400 light years away from the binary system, and the visitor is the only Dessite traveler to reach our system. I just hope the canths are right. If the Dessites could somehow take them over too we would be in worse trouble than we are now.”

“I think we must trust the canths to know what they are doing. I have been living amongst them for more than four decades, and I would like to think I know them better than any other Xianthan. I do not think they would have this feeling of certainty about them without good cause. They are usually scared of anything, and spook very easily. It is most unlike them to exude this aura of certainty.”

Diva shook his hand. “I am happy to see you again, Man who speaks to canths. I hope you have not been inconvenienced by this journey?”

“Certainly not, it is a very great privilege. Xiantha grew up around the legend of the lost animas. Now we know that the canths contain the lost animas, we are even more obligated to protect and support them. And this journey was their idea.”

“—Their idea?”

“The last two days there has been great unrest amongst the canths. They were kicking and plunging, tossing their heads and whinnying in discomfort. I even thought there was some virus infection loose amongst them – until Cimma appeared.”

“What happened?”

“As soon as Cimma arrived, there was a total silence on the farm. It was uncanny. Then I suddenly became aware of a circle of canths around us, appearing to listen to our conversation. It was very strange. The canths hardly ever jump the corral fences, but this time they had. When Cimma finished telling me about Pictoria, and the Dessites, they began to hum.
Hum
! I have never heard anything like that sound come out of the canths!”

“And you felt they were asking you to bring some of them with you?”

“I
knew
they were. It was an absolute conviction that they somehow planted in my mind.”

“You know that we cannot take them down to the planet?”

“Of course. The shuttles are far too small. The canths think that their presence in orbit will be enough. They just wanted to be in the same system, I think. I suppose it might be hard to ‘feel’ things at a distance of 30,000 light years.”

“I thought quantum non-locality didn’t notice distance?”

The man who spoke to canths spread his hands. “I don’t know. Perhaps there is some sort of interference by the Dessites? I suppose there must be some consequences of this mental attack I have been hearing about.”

“Then we will leave you here. Please don’t touch any of the controls. I have put the ship into geostationary orbit, which is stable. If you change anything, the orbit might start to degrade.”

“I will touch nothing,
Valhai
Diva. You may be quite sure of that. The canths and I are here only to act as a mental back-up to you all. I wish you success in your rescue mission.”

“Thank you. I think we are going to need it.”

THE REST OF the crew of the New Independence piled into the space shuttle. With five people inside one pod, the journey down to the surface of the planet was almost unbearable. The pods were built for two, three at a maximum. Five was more than uncomfortable. Diva noticed the way that they were looking.

“Sorry, but none of you can pilot a shuttle, and the New Independence only came with one shuttle, so this is the best I can do.”

Bennel nodded with an air of resignation, but Tallen and Petra glowered. Diva thought, not for the first time, that Six should probably have left them inside Lublank prison. Then a fierce expression crossed her face. Six. Was he still alive? She had to force herself to concentrate on the console in front of her. She wondered why his absence left such a feeling of emptiness inside her.