Shadow Hunters (25 page)

Jake barely heard her. He was enraptured with what he was doing. One to one point six. This was the secret, the code, the understanding of the ancients, of Zamara, and of Jacob Jefferson Ramsey. A perfect ratio, found in art and in nature. The xel’naga had known it. Zamara had known it. He moved, almost hypnotized, to the next crystal, and a third pure stone-voice was added to the harmony. The crystals were glowing brighter as wel, the light coming from deep inside them now pulsating.

The protoss watched, their eyes wide, as an alien who housed one of their most revered minds reenacted a scene from their long-distant past.

“This going to attract any attention?” Jake frowned, the deep peace he found in this moment disturbed by Rosemary’s practical consideration. He banished his resentment; it was a good question.

Ladranix started slightly, and the protoss keeping watch spoke in al their minds.

“Beautiful and powerful though this is, my duty is to keep you safe. There is no threat.”

Jake subsided back into that place as if he were diving into a deep, clear pool. He moved in a widening spiral, touching each stone and feeling it stir to life, warm and wakening beneath his hands. The song was rapturous and resonant now, and Jake didn’t want it to end. But it had to—everything had an end; even things that were beautiful and timeless like the khaydarin crystals had ends—and so he reluctantly touched the last crystal and stepped back.

The humming sweled. The crystals grew brighter. A line of white energy began to form around the spiral created by the glowing crystals, encasing it in a rectangle whose ratio was the Golden Mean, one to one point six. The rectangle of earth so brightly outlined slowly began to rise, excess soil faling in a smal rain, its edges smooth beneath the dirt as if cut by a laser. Behind Jake, Rosemary gasped just a little, and he felt the protoss’s astonishment and awe wash over him in a warm, tingling wave.

The hole the hovering rectangle had left in the earth was no gouge, no wound in the planet’s surface. It was a stairway, leading down into the heart of wonder. It looked as new, as fresh, as it had when Temlaa had beheld it so long ago; it probably had looked this way when it was first created. The wals were organic, made of earth and stone, but throughout was a striation of metal that was obviously not naturaly occurring but woven in seamlessly. Glowing crystals had been embedded into the wals as wel, providing ilumination for any who might descend along the steps.

Jake sensed Alzadar’s disquietude. Then the protoss said, querulously, “I … Is there no other way? This is forbidden… .”

Rosemary turned to him. “The only reason this area has been forbidden to you is that Ulrezaj said so,” Rosemary said. “And you know for sure that Ulrezaj got you addicted to a realy nasty drug, you half believe already that he lied to you, and if he is what we’re sure he is, he’s an abomination of pretty much everything you say you believe in. You’re a templar—at least you once were. So let’s go.”

Jake winced, but Rosemary had done nothing but speak the truth, and it rendered Alzadar silent for a moment. The power that Ulrezaj had exerted over the Forged was strong, Jake knew, or else they would never have folowed him in the first place.

But it was more than the drug. Ulrezaj preyed on the deep-seated fears of the protoss—their ancient dread of abandonment, of not being good enough. Jake knew how powerful that fear was because he had been one of them. He had watched the xel’naga depart, had watched what that abandonment had done to the protoss.

He shared his thoughts. “It is an ancient wound,” he said quietly. “Because of Zamara, I saw it when it was made. Khas showed you the way—the way of unity, and trust. Honor that now, Alzadar. Trust us, as you know you can, and don’t let this

—this monster sway you. Aiur protoss and dark templar alike abhor what he is and what he’s done. He needs you, your cooperation. Deny him that, and you begin to weaken him.”

Alzadar turned to him. Jake felt himself being analyzed by a very shrewd and very strong mind. He made no attempt to shield himself or his thoughts.

“This is Jacob, not Zamara, speaking so,” Alzadar said. “How is it you know exactly what to say, terran?”

Jake smiled wanly. “Because … I just might know you better than you know yourselves. And that knowing might be what I die for.”

There was the sensation of a slight wince, and then Alzadar nodded. “I … wil come,” he said.

Jake hadn’t ever given much thought to his eventual death, or the manner of it. When he did think about it, when such esoteric conversations sprang up on late nights over deep camaraderie perhaps lubricated by a smidge too much alcohol, he’d always thought that he wouldn’t want to know. If he saw it coming, he had thought, he’d be so focused on that above al else that it would consume him.

It was certainly foremost in his brain now, but rather than shutting him off from life as it unfolded around him, it sharpened his desire to experience it. When Zamara had first broken the news to him a few hours ago, he’d been devastated. But at this moment he was almost hyperaware of everything. Each bite of food tasted better.

The sun- and moonlight on his skin were causes for wonder. The automatic functioning of his lungs, his heart, his whole body—amazing. And as he finaly descended into the place where so long ago Temlaa and Savassan had trod, he was filed with a sense of awe and delight.

Zamara?

Yes, Jacob?

Whatever happens—I mean, I want to live, of course I do, everyone does, but …

I’m glad. I’m glad you chose me. I’m glad I got to have this experience. Better
to live fully than long.

The emotion that poured over him was like warm rain. It was folowed by cool resolution.
I will do everything in my power, without compromising my duty, to
keep you alive, Jacob Jefferson Ramsey. This, I swear.

Rosemary glanced up at him, saw the gentle, almost childlike smile on his face, and shook her head, smiling softly herself.

THE TWO PILOTS REMAINED WITH THE SHUTTLE in case they needed to escape in order to avoid being detected. They would stay in contact with the others while the party ventured down into the ancient chambers that housed xel’naga secrets. Their regret at being unable to accompany their brethren at this historicaly significant moment was tempered by their devotion to their duty. It was an honor to enter the chambers; but it was also an honor to serve the greater good.

Despite everything, Jake felt a surge of pleasure and excitement as he, Rosemary, Alzadar, and several of Those Who Endure descended the steps, treading in the footsteps of Temlaa and Savassan. He was not alone in his sense of awe and wonder, as he looked at the striated wals inlaid with softly glowing, jewel-toned gems. As Temlaa had done, he reached and touched them with his fingers, gasping quietly as he, as the long-dead protoss had, sensed a sort of … life in the very rock.

Only Rosemary, the one among them who had nothing protoss about her at al, was seemingly unmoved. The former assassin ran point for them al, along with two other protoss, hastening lightly down the steps with her rifle at the ready. Jake was grateful beyond words for her presence.

They needed to move and move swiftly, and Jake silently lamented the lost exploration opportunity. Stil, when he had first “seen” this place through Temlaa’s eyes, he’d never dreamed he’d be here at al. So he observed as much as he could, taking it in with his own human senses, as they quickly and quietly headed into the heart of the place. His ears strained for the sound he knew he would soon hear, the rhythmic thumping, so like a heartbeat. He smiled as finaly he began to detect it.

“After so long,” mused Ladranix. “Truly, the Wanderers from Afar are marvelous.”

Jake didn’t say anything, but he wasn’t so sure. He’d seen what some of the technology could do and the desiccated bodies it had left behind. He wondered if he’d see it with his own eyes today.

“Heh,” said Rosemary, speaking softly, “this is a lot faster than the way I came in.”

The stairs ended, and Jake felt the cool air swirling about him. “This is the first big cavern Temlaa and Savassan encountered,” he said. Rosemary waited for his nod, then moved forward. Light came up and al of them stared at what it revealed.

The beauty, the integration of the natural with the technological, was stunning. Jake was deeply moved, and he looked around hungrily, at the softly glowing ceiling, the carved and inlaid stone formations that rose majesticaly from the polished floor—and over there, the control panel inlaid with smal, circular, glowing gems.

“When Temlaa touched those gems in the Golden Mean order—the ara’dor—that wal over there opened up.” He pointed. “A slab came out with six desiccated protoss bodies on it. They were covered with wiring.”

He sent the memory at the speed of thought, and the protoss recoiled at the image.

“Did Temlaa and Savassan ever learn why the bodies were there?” Alzadar asked.

Jake shook his head. “No. They assumed that since it was the xel’naga, they were trying to help the protoss. But … I gotta tel you, I’m not so sure about that.”

Rosemary fidgeted slightly. “Let’s keep moving,” she said. “The longer we stick around here, the greater the chance someone’l find us.”

Jake nodded. She was right. But he was seized with a desire to tap in the ratio, one to one point six, and see what emerged if he did so. Reluctantly, he turned to folow Rosemary. She headed off into the next chamber, but paused for a moment. Catching Jake’s eye, she pointed to a smudge on the wal.

“Temlaa’s markings,” Jake said. Rosemary did not reply, merely regarded him with a grin that had only affection in it. Jake touched the charcoal; his finger came away blackened. He had, quite literaly, touched the past.

On they went, with protoss going ahead of them and folowing behind, alert for any sign that might mean discovery. So far, they had been very lucky. Alzadar had told them this was a forbidden area for the Forged, and Jake dared to hope their luck would hold. The heartbeat sound increased as they went inward, folowing a trail of charcoal smudges and the memories of a preserver.

Jake wasn’t prepared for it when he turned a corner and suddenly—there it was. He stopped dead in his tracks at the entrance to the cavernous room.

“Wow,” said Rosemary softly, staring as raptly as the rest of them at the giant khaydarin crystal that hovered above them. Al faces were turned up toward it, protoss and human features alike bathed in the soft glow. The crystal was a wondrous sight, and for a second it looked blurry to Jake. He blinked hard to clear his vision.

It is magnificent,
Zamara agreed,
and if we are fortunate, it will mean your life.

He smiled a little.
Then it’s even more beautiful, if such a thing is possible.

Rosemary broke the reverent stilness. “Here’s your giant crystal, Prof. Now what?”

Now what indeed? Zamara wanted to get a piece of it, perhaps one of the smaler shards that he could see clustered around the base. But the crystal was a good twenty feet in the air.

“Uh … good question,” he murmured. “Any suggestions on how we get up there?”

“It is possible that there is a mechanism to raise and lower the crystal,” Ladranix said, shaking himself slightly. Like the rest of them, he was in awe of what they were seeing here.

Jake thought about what had happened to Savassan the first time the two protoss had experimented with the controls. The great mystic had almost had the very life essence sucked out of him, it had seemed to Temlaa. He grimaced. “Yeah, but I don’t want to be switching things off and on randomly. Not a good idea down here.”

“What is it you require?” Ladranix said. “Be specific, Jacob.”

Zamara’s impatience and sense of frustration washed through Jake. “She’s not sure.

I’m afraid this part wasn’t in the script.” He pointed to the smal shards clustered around the base. “I think we should start with one of those.”

Ladranix craned his neck, studying the crystal. “The distance is not too great for me to leap from the floor,” he offered. “The crystal does not appear to have any protective field around it.”

“Yeah, but your technology might not register something that advanced. No offense,”

Rosemary said.

“None taken,” Ladranix replied.

Jake rubbed his temple, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his head. “I … think that may be the only way to get to it.”

Jacob, wait.

“Hang on a minute,” Jake said, extending a hand to physicaly stop Ladranix from stepping into the room. He saw what had given Zamara pause. “Those containers—

they weren’t here when Temlaa and Khas were here. Those are new.”

Their gaze had first gone to the crystal, drawn by its beauty and magnificence, but now that Jake had pointed out the half dozen rectangular tanks, at least three meters square each, everyone stared at them. Jake thought they looked like giant fish tanks filed with ink. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but they looked sorely out of place here, their edges and unforgiving liquid darkness in disharmony with the blending of natural and artificial that surrounded them.

“This is no protoss construct. Nor do I think it is of the xel’naga,” Ladranix said.

“The Xava’kai,” Alzadar said quietly. “This must be their doing.”

“Then we’d better find out what they’ve been up to,” said Rosemary with her customary practicality.

Rosemary is correct. I … have dreadful misgivings. But we must obtain a shard
of that crystal, or all is for naught.