Trapped On Talonque: (A Sectors SF romance) (23 page)

Bithia’s response dispelled the image of the dangerously open facility he had been envisioning. “We controlled the entry, of course. No one was given the access tones and symbols, unlike the set Hialar was granted. Those worked for the healing chamber only. My father didn’t want any Nocheni to wander freely in our labs and workspaces unescorted.”

Celixia laughed with bitter amusement. “The entire portion of the building where you say your entry was located collapsed in the great quake of five thousand years ago. Many people died, including a significant number of my own ancestors. We almost lost the secrets of the Hialar forever as a result of the quake, but one of the keepers was rescued from under the edge of the rubble. She lived only until sundown the same day, but it was long enough to pass on most of her knowledge to two younger Hialar.”

“And the palace wing?” Bithia inquired, not showing much interest in the fates of those who’d been keepers not only of their secrets, but of her person against her will. Nate noticed she was sensitive to any mention of the topic, whereas Celixia took understandable pride in the Hialar accomplishments. He hoped the relations between the two women would stay cordial, even with conditions radically altered. Hostility on Bithia’s part to her former attendant could make escape through what was basically enemy territory a lot more difficult.

He needed Celixia’s continued help, as well as Atletl’s. The latter showed definite signs of interest in the priestess’s future, which might influence any decision he made, should the two women come to a parting of the ways. The warrior enjoyed proclaiming himself to be a warrior of the goddess, but Nate wasn’t sure Atletl’s allegiance wouldn’t shift as Bithia showed herself to be just as much a normal person as the rest of them. And then, in Nate’s opinion, Atletl would be likely to side with Celixia.

This was yet another thing he needed to talk to Bithia about, if he ever got a private moment alone with her. Nate tuned in to what Celixia was telling the others.
 

“It was never rebuilt,” she said about the palace wing. “Or the debris cleared away. The people believe the ground was cursed, and a great wall was built to contain the demons who caused the shaking. Even Sarbordon’s ancestors chose not to venture there, although the conquerors occupied the rest of the palace and the city. When the ground shakes again, his people sacrifice a member of their own clan to Huitlani, preferably a young warrior.”

“A famous legend,” Atletl said with a grimace of distaste. “It is said the soldier becomes a demigod immediately upon death and does battle with the demons. If he wins this battle in the underground chambers, then Huitlani takes him into the hall of his special warriors. If the first sacrifice fails and is eaten by the demons instead, then another must be killed by the priestesses to commence the battle anew.”

“At least the chosen one is a volunteer, one of their own.” Anger laced Celixia’s voice. “Unlike all the other demands of their god Huitlani, which can only be satisfied by the deaths of my people.”

Nate shivered. Compared to the dry recitation of similar myths in long-ago classes at the Academy, this discussion was all too real.
I could give one hell of an expert guest lecture on the whole subject now.
For sure, nobody would drowse off during his depiction of the realities. “Back to what concerns us now, which is getting out of here. The flyer tunnel is the only choice. Fighting our way out of the healing chamber, through the palace and out of the city armed with nothing but three alien weapons, plus swords, is only going to happen in an adventure trideo.”

“Agreed.” Thom immediately backed his tactical assessment. “I’d say the tunnel is it. But is she”—nodding in Bithia’s direction dubiously—“going to be strong enough for such a long walk so soon after leaving the chamber? Barefoot?”

“The tunnel floor is smooth enough to walk on without distress,” Bithia said. “The walls are completely lined with black talmere—the same as this floor.” She stamped with one slender foot. “As to my endurance, I can’t say.”

Nate realized he’d been ignoring an important aspect of their environment, taken for granted because it was a part of his own technology-driven world too. “What’s providing the power for these lights and the healing chamber?”

“One of the first tasks on setting up a field expedition like this is to establish the pleikn generator in a special chamber of its own. At the end of this hall.” She gestured at one of the doors they hadn’t yet tried. “Why?”

“I want to see it,” Nate said. “Gathering intel to support informed decision-making.”

“I rank high enough to have access.” Bithia held out her hand to him again, and together they walked carefully across the cluttered floor to the door she had indicated. From the corner of his eye, Nate watched the outdated vision of the city wink out.

Bithia had to let them through two large, heavy doors made of the translucent black talmere before reaching the power source.

It was like nothing he’d ever seen before. A thick panel of clear crystal blocked access to the actual chamber where the generator existed. “Clarified talmere.” Bithia indicated the width with her outspread hands—about a yard, Nate judged.

A perfect globe of pure blue energy hung in the exact center of the forbidden inner room, painting its surroundings blue with reflected light. The miniature star of pure energy was nine feet in diameter. Revolving unceasingly in a counterclockwise direction, the light emitted a low-pitched hum. Tentacles of the blazing light reached out in a rhythmic pattern, touching square plates of glittering material inlaid deep into the walls at various points. A set of symbols was inscribed below each niche.

“The lab, the healing chamber, living quarters, the storehouse.” Bithia pointed as she read them off, going across the room from left to right. “All powered from here. Don’t stare at the pleikn too closely or for too long. It is best viewed through special visors, but the equipment isn’t on the rack where it belongs.”

“This unit doesn’t power your father’s mountain base?” Nate asked.

“The base has its own pleikn.” Bithia sounded distracted, although she answered Nate’s question readily enough. Despite the warning she’d just given, she watched the glowing blue energy provider, a frown on her face.

Nate eyed her, guessing from her expression that something wasn’t right. “What’s the matter?”

“See the surface ripples, and there, a flash of green—the light should only be pure blue, never the other colors.”

“Which means what?” Thom asked. “There goes another ripple.”

Sure enough, now Nate observed the subtle blurring and distortion passing through the blue globe, as if someone was vibrating a container full of water. The humming sounded off-key. The ragged undertone tore at his nerves. He seemed to be disgustingly attuned to the subliminal aural frequencies of working alien devices.
Damned inconvenient
.

The rippling effect slowly died away in the globe.

“It’s going out of balance and needs correction.” Bithia’s pronouncement was unequivocal. “This must be why I was having recent problems with the healing machine. Any power surge or decline would affect the device. Over time, such problems would destroy the equipment.” Rubbing her arms, she shivered. “And me.”

“Do you know how to fix it?” Nate asked.

She shook her head. “It’s rare for pleikn to fall from the self-sustaining state. It may have been established too hurriedly when we first arrived and not tuned properly to the underlying harmonics of the planet. My father wasn’t happy with a number of things the advance logistics team had done in a rush, or omitted altogether. He was annoyed.” Smiling at the memory, she shook her head slightly, as if to bring herself back to the present dilemma.
 

“What if it continues to fluctuate?”

She made a dramatic gesture with her hands. “It explodes. Eventually, not in the next few heartbeats.” She stared at the chamber for a moment before activating readouts. “This unit, however, is extremely close to detonation. Checking the rate of the ripples and the intensity of the colors, maybe a few hours.”

“How much territory does it take out? What happens?”

Bithia frowned over Nate’s questions. She tapped the gilintrae to make the holographic view of the city reappear. “The blast would level everything from here”—she indicated a point about halfway to the coastline—“to just short of here.” The last point was the river gorge where Nate and his comrades had crossed the perilous bridge. “No more city, only a flat plain of talmere. This is a small pleikn, you see. A large enough one could destroy an entire planet. But my people forbid the use of pleikn as weapons.”

“Maybe not in your time,” Nate said reluctantly, rubbing his jaw. “But Thom and I’ve seen planets left in the state you describe.”

Thom obligingly rattled off a list. “Travas Three, Aldecr Seven. And a city on Flatira One. I guess we solved one mystery of the ages today. The Sectors would love a weapon with this capability. We can destroy a planet nowadays but not easily.”

“There’s no recorded history anywhere in our part of the galaxy as to why the people vanished or the civilizations were destroyed. We knew the how but not the why.” Nate checked how Bithia was reacting to the information and wasn’t surprised by the shock on her face. He drew her closer. “The death and destruction isn’t your fault. You’ve no idea what may have driven your people to such lengths or even when it happened.”

She buried her face in her hands for a moment, then threw her head back with a defiant toss of the braids Celixia had labored over. “I begin to see how living in your world is going to be a constant challenge. You speak so glibly of these ancient events, events which hadn’t even happened at the time I was left here on Talonque. The concept of my people in an interstellar war, wielding our most powerful technology—why? Against who? Some of our own people? It’s hard to process. I’m scared, not for myself, but for the people I loved. I know the events were thousands of years ago, but knowledge doesn’t help me accept the truth. Do you understand?” She stared into his eyes, her hands locked on his biceps. “It’s all too fresh to me still. What you discuss as irrevocably past is the future in a real sense to me.” Bithia leaned her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes.
 

“I’m sorry,” he said, putting his arms around her. “I’ll try not to be so casual about these things, but they’re facts of our existence in the galaxy, you know. Mysteries my people and others have long wanted to solve.”

“Hadn’t we better be getting out of here, if this thing is going to blow?” Thom asked.

“Is there any way to warn the populace?” Nate directed his question at Celixia and Atletl.

“Judging by the activity we saw as we came back to the palace, the city’s being evacuated anyway,” Thom said.

“Fear of the coming battle with my people.” Atletl drew himself up taller, as if highly gratified by his own conclusion.
 

“What about radiation?” Nate asked.

Bithia wrinkled her brow. “Radiation?”

“Lingering ill effects in the area or carried on the winds that can kill people who were nowhere near the explosion,” he explained. “On at least a couple of the worlds we were talking about, Survey teams measured radiation.”
 

“No such other effects are present, to my knowledge. Nothing will ever grow in this place again, because the talmere bonds all the way to the core of the planet. Perhaps if my people or descendants of my people have turned—did turn—oh, these frames of temporal reference give me a headache!” Biting her lip, rubbing her temple, Bithia was exasperated. “It may be if researchers found a way to convert pleikn into a weapon, then the scientists also found a way to add this radiation, these lingering ill effects you speak of. I only know nothing relevant is discussed in the manuals I was taught from.” She ran a hand along the controls. “I
can
tell you a pleikn that strobed even once the way this one does constantly must be disconnected and replaced by the specialists as soon as possible.”

“We can’t replace it,” Nate said. “In the short time we’ve been standing here, it’s strobed, or whatever you call it, at the rate of approximately once in three minutes. I bet it’s been drifting out of balance for quite a long time.”

“Probably. I know the healing chamber has been growing ever more problematic during the reigns of the last few rulers. I never dreamed the problem lay with the pleikn.” Narrowing her eyes, Bithia assessed the power source again. “Close to the threshold for detonation, judging by the colors.Well before morning. About the time the three moons rise, assuming their cycle hasn’t varied since last I saw them.”

Thom did rapid calculations in his head. “Six Terra standard hours, give or take an hour.”

“There’s no alarm in this facility,” Bithia said, referring to Nate’s earlier question. “The pleikn was monitored. The proper personnel would have been notified via their gilintrae.”

“We have no citywide alarm system,” Celixia added. “A set of bells and trumpets to call people to sacrifice, but as I understand, what you desire is to set people fleeing, not drawing closer.”

“Issue settled. Much as I’d prefer to warn the populace of the danger, we’ve got no way to accomplish it. I hope the mass evacuation in fear of the invasion will clear as many people as possible from the blast zone.” Nate nodded. “Here’s the plan for us. We check out the flyer tunnel and go like hell toward the coast exit. Sound good?”