Paragaea (45 page)

A contingent of metamen, armed and fearsome, raced up the Stair while their brothers below labored in their hundreds beneath the war engine, moving it slowly but steadily up the mountainside.

All eyes were on the image of the ancient, wizened creature on the screen, his mouth wide as he shouted at his assembled followers.

“If Per is the offspring of Benu,” Balam asked, pacing before the crystal screen, fangs bared, “then what does he have to gain from all of this?”

“Well,” Eduro said, distractedly motioning towards the screen, “let's see, shall we?”

Suddenly, the room filled with amplified sound, and they could hear the whistling wind, the murmuring hordes of metamen, and, above it all, the rising voice of Per.

“…the blood of the Atlans, who have abandoned you, their offspring! The universe has decreed that the demiurges who created you must now be uncreated, so that you can ascend and take their place, as you have always been fated to do. You have proven yourselves worthy, and now, at the time of the Reckoning, you shall be rewarded.”

Eduro motioned again, and the room once more fell silent.

“Well, I think that explains it,” Hieronymus said dryly.

“He wants revenge,” Leena said. “When Benu related the story to us, he told us of Ikaru's madness, and his thirst for control.”

“But surely his cognition is not damaged so extensively that he believes he can actually
survive
the war engine being used,” Eduro said, disbelieving. “It was intended for remote detonation only, and one would have to be far from the blast radius to escape complete discorporation.”

“Maybe he doesn't want to survive,” Balam said, looking at the screen beneath lowered brows. “I think he craves death, not just for himself, but for all living creatures. Look at his eyes. He is beyond madness, now.”

“Eduro,” Hieronymus said, striding over and taking the Atlan by the arm. “Is there any way to disable the war engine before it can be recharged?”

“Our only option would be to allow the energy of the singularity to bleed into the higher dimensions, leaving the war engine without power. It would also, though, leave Atla itself without power.”

Leena stepped forward, eyes wide. “But you must finish opening the gate to Earth. If the power is cut off before the calculations are completed, we'll
never
be able to return home.”

“We?” Balam said, and looked from Leena to Hieronymus and back.

“We'll explain later,” Hieronymus answered, and turned to the Atlan. “Leena is right, Eduro.”

“Oh, very well,” Eduro said impatiently. “Come with me.”

The Atlan spun on his heel, and glided across the floor to a far entrance, the trio following close behind.

After a winding course through the citadel city's corridors, they reached the singularity chamber, where the black sphere still hung in midair, surrounded by coruscating flames.

Eduro went to stand beside one of the metal pedestals, and rearranged the gems on its tabletop surface. “Atla, full display.”

The faceted walls of the singularity chamber were immediately illuminated with images, one for each faceted face. One showed the foot of the mountain, where the being called Per spoke blood and thunder to the massed metamen. On another could be seen the Stair, up which the war engine slowly climbed. Another displayed the higher reaches of the Stair, swarmed with armed metamen, intent on destruction. Still others showed views of the plaza garden beyond the citadel walls, and of the chambers and corridors of the city itself.

Eduro picked a small green gem off the pedestal's top, and then turned to face the trio, who watched the scenes playing out on the crystal walls all around them.

“I will leave the processes running,” Eduro explained. “When the calculations are complete, Atla will open the wormhole and provide you with its location. As soon as you are done with the wormhole, merely place this onto the center of the control panel”—he handed Hieronymus the green gem—“and the encasement will reconfigure such that the singularity bleeds off into the higher dimensions, and the war engine will be left powerless.” He posed, and then sighed wistfully. “I only hope that the wormhole calculations are complete before the war engine is brought near enough to be recharged, or this discussion is plainly moot.”

“Won't you be here to do this yourself?” Hieronymus asked, looking with an expression commingling confusion and disgust at the gem in his hand.

“No,” Eduro answered, “I must excuse myself now, I'm afraid. It was a distinct pleasure meeting you three, I'm sure.”

“Where are you going?” Leena asked.

“I must go and meet this Per, or Ikaru, or whatever he chooses to call himself. I have always wanted to encounter one of the ancient probes, and this may well be my last opportunity.”

Eduro turned, and walked back to the doorway. At the threshold,
he turned his head over his shoulder, and smiled at the trio. “You know, I will be the first Atlan to leave the citadel city in more than a millennium. How strange.”

With that, he passed through the doorway, and was gone.

On one of the faceted walls of the singularity chamber, nearly an hour later, the trio watched as Eduro stepped out into the plaza just as the first wave of armed metamen poured up over the top step of the Stair.

“He'll be killed!” Leena shouted.

“Perhaps,” Hieronymus said. “But perhaps not. Watch.”

On the projected image, they saw Eduro touch the gem on his forehead, and as the first of the metamen was almost within arm's reach, a faint aura of shimmering green suddenly appeared around the Atlan's form.

“Hmmm.” Balam nodded appreciatively as the metaman swung at Eduro's head with a cudgel, only to be buffeted back forcefully by the green aura.

“A kind of personal barrier,” Hieronymus said admiringly. “Must come in handy.”

Eduro continued across the plaza, the ranks of the metamen dividing before him like a river bending around a promontory, and finally disappeared from view, climbing down the Stair.

“He might have mentioned this barrier to us,” Leena said, sighing with relief. “Of course, in short order, we'll have the metamen to contend with, assuming that the city's processes ignore them as they did us, on our first arrival.”

The first of the metamen reached the entrance to the citadel city, and the trio watched on the crystal display as they stormed inside. Balam jumped, startled, when a quartet of Sinaa hove into view, a male and three females.

“Gerjis,” the jaguar man spat. “And my sisters, with Menchit in tow.” Balam turned to Leena and Hieronymus, his expression imploring. Hieronymus nodded, solemnly. “I understand, friend. Go ahead.”

Balam took a heavy breath, and then stepped forward, taking Leena in a crushing embrace.

“Should we not meet again, Leena, know that it was a pleasure to travel at your side.”

“You…too…” Leena managed, scarcely able to breathe.

“Good luck,” Balam shouted, releasing his hold on her. Then he turned, fangs bared and claws out, and raced off into the diamond citadel, bent on revenge of his own.

From their vantage in the singularity chamber, Leena and Hieronymus watched as the metamen, bloodlust and righteous fury driving them, destroyed one gallery after another, the servitors trying in vain to repair the damage in their wake.

It was some time later that Balam finally caught up to the tide of destruction, in the chamber of the sleeping Atlans. The metamen had reached the room only a few moments before him, and had already begun to slaughter the sleeping Altans, mercilessly.

Leena shuddered as she watched the screen overhead. On it, Balam skidded into the room, eyes flashing, just as the quartet of Sinaa led by Gerjis savaged an unconscious, insensate Atlan, pale blood staining their claws and fangs.

“
The calculations are nearly complete
,” came the voice of Atla from the walls of the singularity chamber. “
Only a final million permutations must be examined before the traversable wormhole can be opened.
”

On the crystal screen overhead, Hieronymus and Leena saw Balam
cut down his cousin Gerjis with a mortal blow, only to receive a vicious cut to his left leg and arm from one of his sisters.

Blood flowing freely from his wounds, Balam faced off against his sisters, a grim smile on his face, a knife in either hand. A short distance away stood Menchit, watching intently but immobile. Leena thought that perhaps the young Sinaa was experiencing some conflicting emotions, watching her aunts and her father locked in a duel to the death.

“
The fissure opens.
”

A few meters from where Leena stood, a gleaming sphere coalesced into existence, hovering two meters off the crystalline floor. In contrast to the larger black sphere high overhead, this one was no larger than a man's fist, and shone mirror bright.

“
Verification follows
.”

From the doorway appeared another of the servitors, but unlike the scuttling spiderlike creatures they'd seen so far, this one was surmounted by a set of metallic, clattering wings. It advanced on four spindly legs, and when it stood directly beneath the shimmering sphere, the servitor's wings began to beat, as invisibly fast as those of a hummingbird, and the little machine lifted gracefully off the floor. It rose straight up towards the gate, and as soon as it touched the sphere's surface, it seemed to recede from view, and then was gone.

“
Transmission received.
”

One of the crystal facets of the chamber, which before had provided a view of a far-off corridor, now changed, and Leena and Hieronymus could see projected a wide wheat field stretching under a clear blue sky, with men and farm machinery in the near distance. A road sign, barely visible towards one side, clearly showed words written in the Cyrillic alphabet.

“It's a farm collective in the Soviet Union,” Leena said, almost breathless.

“
Confirmed
.”

“In that case, Leena, I believe it is time for you to leave,” Hieronymus said, his mouth drawn into a tight line.

“No!” Leena turned to Hieronymus, her eyes wide. “Come with me! We don't know that Per will reach the summit with the war engine. Perhaps Eduro can stop him, or reason with him, or—”

“No,” Hieronymus answered, shaking his head sadly. “I'm sorely tempted, but we can't take that chance. If I'm not here to shut down the city's power before the engine is brought near, Per is liable to destroy most of Paragaea, all for his mindless revenge. Besides”—he flashed a weary smile—“I can't leave Balam to face his mortal enemies alone, now can I?”

The two drew near, and Hieronymus gathered her in his arms.

“I don't…” Leena began, and her voice choked off in her throat. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to go through the gate. “Oh, Hieronymus. If I could stay…”

“I know.” Hieronymus stepped back, and took her face in his hands, staring deep into her eyes. “You have your duty. I understand. I served a flag once, long ago and far away. Now, my only duty is to myself and my friends, and were I to be the cause of you failing in your mission, or my friend Balam's needless death through inaction, I wouldn't deserve to count either of you my friends. So you must pass through the gate, and I must be here to close it.”

He pushed her reluctantly away from him, holding her shoulders in his hand.

“If I can,” Leena said fervently, “if it is possible, if there's any way at all, once I fulfill my duty I'll return to you.”

Hieronymus smiled sadly, and slowly stepped away. “I'll be waiting, then.”

Leena could not wait any longer. It took all the will she could muster, but she turned around and walked to stand before the gate hovering silently above the crystal floor.

Leena reached out her hand, but just before her fingers touched the gate, she turned to Hieronymus, her eyes misting. “Good-bye, love.”

Afraid to wait a moment longer, for fear that she might lose her
resolve, Leena held her breath and leaned forward. Her fingertips brushed the surface of the sphere, finding it surprisingly warm to the touch. Then she felt a strange sensation deep inside her, as though she were weightless and pulling multiple gees, all at once, and there came a blinding moment of darkness.

She fell more than two meters before she hit the ground, landing with a thud that drove the air from her lungs. She pushed herself up on her elbows, and glanced distractedly at the farmers rushing towards her, hoes in hand, shouting in Russian.

She was home.