Paradise Gate
By Graham Seaman
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Copyright Graham Seaman 2011
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Cover design by G C Seaman
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CONTENTS:
Chapter 1 - The Mistake
Chapter 2 - Lucky Escape
Chapter 3 - The Dream
Chapter 4 - The Big Drop
Chapter 5 - Serpent Trail
Chapter 6 - Into the Unknown
Chapter 7 - The Way In
Chapter 8 - Climb to the Summit
Chapter 9 - Khnom Lach Faa
Chapter 10 - Afterword
Chapter 1 - The Mistake
Tai-Chi played his hands over the sloping wall, his three-fingered palms dancing with purpose between the shafts of vertical laser light which emanated from the indentations in its dark marbled surface.
"Has it been done?"
The words were soundless...forming instead as coloured shapes within the creature's brain. The constructor ceased his work, turning away from the maw of the vent to face the outer dome; rivers of shimmering rainwater cascading down across its external surface toward the ground far below.
The worker touched an aural fistula upon the side of his bare head.
"The matrix is indeed complete. The final connections have been made to the external collection channels...all destination co-ordinates have been processed and factored into the system. I await your instruction to begin the transfer at your convenience."
His large black eyes stared unblinking ahead, their compound retina sparkling within the ultra-violet. Tai-Chi waited patiently for the command... as always, an aura of trepidation about him as he reached this point, for he realized full well that should there be a failure of the vent or any one of its countless millions of components, then it could mean that he would be stranded here on this strange new world - its cloak of thick forest and continual rain becoming his home until the day he died.
"Dlo'thaan! Proceed...!”
The constructor needed no further prompting.
Turning quickly, Tai interrupted the path of the thick red beam to the right of the grey stone panel with a casual wave of his palm. He backed away from the wall of the immense structure as the ground began to tremble and growl beneath his bare feet. A strong breeze suddenly rose up around the building, swirling in circles around it, whipping the constructor's long cloak around his legs and ankles. Tai's slender figure swayed gently as primitive forces began to well up out of the ground around him. The growling grew stronger, the forces above and beneath the planet now being brought to life for the first time and their calls resembling the deep snarling of some primeval monster, now released from its prison cell somewhere deep within the ground. Searing flashes of light began to lick upward...crashing against the inside of the dome with a demon's kiss and caress. This was the immense protective energy field which enfolded the building completely...Tai began to back away further from the vent, staring upward toward the unseen summit high above him. This was the truncated top of the pyramid - flattened at its tip for one purpose and one alone... to form the matrix cell which held the wildly thrashing singularity within its grasp. This was why Tai-Chi had been sent here across the vastness of space and time, to undertake a journey which was of primary importance to the future of the Glo'thaar race.
He was constructor...and his task was now complete...the event horizon was beginning to form before his very eyes.
And so the rushing winds and trembling of the ground subsided.
The machine was now settling down into its primary function, bedding itself in and getting ready for the immense task which was now ahead of it.
Tai carefully cast his eyes over the transfer channels which ran from the base of the vent and up toward its peak. He was gladdened to see that they were full... a torrent of churning rainwater cascading from the huge delivery pipes to be pumped continuously up toward the artificial event horizon at the summit. All was well and the machine appeared to be working flawlessly, an undoubted success. Tai's thin lips broke into a smile...his forbears would indeed be proud of him, for he had undoubtedly succeeded in the task which he had been born to undertake.
A large circle of shimmering blue light began to appear around Tai-Chi, eddying vapour moving within it to blend and coalesce into the vaguest of body outlines. He watched silently as the light formed into the ethereal shapes of the twelve members of the Glo’thaar High Council. They stood around him - tall beings with cloaks of multi-coloured light...shining jewels resembling the stars from the blackness of space itself. They reached up and formed a circle around him, arms outstretched and holding hands together.
"You have done well Tai. It is as predicted... return to us now and receive the respect and thanks of your people for your efforts."
The constructor bowed his head and stepped out from the confines of the image which surrounded him.
Tai moved back into the shadow of the towering wall, the summit of the vent now appearing to disappear into a cloud of water vapour which now was forming above the open singularity. He halted at the small panel which he had been working on previously and looked back out through the dome - out toward the distant forest beyond, seen through a curtain of perpetual rain.
"All is well...." the Councilman remarked.
"We have now created a future for ourselves from this uninhabited forest world. May our endeavours pass far beyond us and allow our race to flourish once again. May it prove to be right....may it prove to be the hope our race truly deserve."
Tai-Chi touched an indenture in the panel and it closed without a sound, not even the trace of a seam remaining to give away its presence.
He stepped back within the luminous ring, the images of the Councilmen fading to be replaced instead by a swirling orange phosphorescence - the ring of light beginning to close down around him. Tai was consumed by this light, closing his eyes and raising his head to the sky as his body faded - cells being consumed, broken down - being absorbed into the rotating singularity in perfect order to re-emerge on the other side of the galaxy and be re-constituted. He was transformed for a few scant moments into something which he could only dream about, and for a moment he became aware of things which he would soon forget when his reformation had taken place.
Tai's final thought was the realisation that they had made an error... how could this be? They had never made a mistake before??
The constructor's existence on this world blinked out, was gone and immediately forgotten on the other side.
Only the behemoth would know, now alone on this world to settle down and do its work silently and diligently.
Many aeons would pass before the Glo'thaar finally learned the awful truth.
Chapter 2 - Lucky Escape
Wing stopped in his tracks at the base of a large tree and leaned gratefully against its knotted skin, sheltering from the incessant rain, his breath coming in short painful gaps after this last run. He ran the back of his hand across his face, licking the warm rainwater from his short fur, bathing his tongue and the dryness of his throat with its reviving moisture. He smiled to himself, satisfied that he was closer than ever to completing his task - to finally prove himself a worthy successor
to his parent-prime.
The youth took a pale pink fruit from his sack and cut a slice out of it with his knife, rewrapping the food within a dry leaf to keep it fresh. The food tasted bitter on his sensitive tongue but he still continued to eat, gaining renewed strength with every mouthful.
Around him the forest shivered with life, urging him forward - to go and seek the lowland plain; to find the thing which lies there which the elders speak of in whispers and which he has seen only in dreams.
Wing had rested enough and now needed to run again.
His feet were unshod and yet the underside of his eight toes and soles were tough, firmer - more resilient for their life within the forest. He found no problem here for the wood was entering one of its many periods of change - the paths were littered with leaves which had fallen from above to form a cushioning mulch upon the ground. There was also a layer of soft cooling mud here which squeezed up between his toes with every light and rapid step. He pushed on.
Presently he halted at a fork in the pathway to get his bearings.
The tall purple trunks of lenofen opened out high above to allow more light to fall through the distant canopy. The rain here fell with droplets as small as mist - larger drops falling intermittently after gathering within the hollows of the wide leaves above. Wing noticed a slender line of pale luminescence... a rare break in the thick cloud cover which hung perpetually over the single continent of his Wetworld. The youth gazed in awe at the brief glimpse of sunlight - remembering the far-fetched tales his parent-prime had told of seeing two strange burning circles in the sky through a gap in the cloud, the light which emanated from them bathing the ground as hot as flame and just as bright, before being swallowed once more within a thick curtain of grey. His parent-prime had himself seen the spectacle only once when he had been a fanciful youth himself, but no others in the tribe could remember seeing such a thing. Could this light he now saw be the very thing his elders had spoken about those many years before?
Briefly it remained, six parallel beams falling onto a newly created cliff-face across the valley, the fresh volcanic rock steaming as it was touched by the rain and sunlight together. The ghostly light flickered slowly and then vanished... lost within the closing clouds above. The youth took this vision to be an omen sent from his parent-prime, a vision to remind Wing that he would not be alone on this, his greatest quest. Wing silently thanked the elder for his guidance and walked quickly on.
Wing knew this place well but it had been subtly changed by volcanic activity. He came across the place where a grotto had stood... a rain soaked cavern in a small outcrop of rock filled with strange rock formations and spire deposits which glistened in the soft grey light. He had played here when he had been younger but now it was no more - its entrance sealed and changed forever by the unstable nature of the planet around them. Wing was saddened but did not let it dwell for he had other considerations brought suddenly to mind.
The path twisted away to the right and was lost a little way distant past the misted rock face. He knew where that led, doubling back and climbing up around the higher reaches of the forest toward home. Wing had to go left and take the path he did not know - through a gap between the twisted roots of two large lenofen trunks and down toward the edge of the Big Drop...the spectacular gorge which legend told would become his final hurdle before reaching the distant lowlands.
Wing whistled confidently and stepped forward, suddenly alarmed to feel the ground give way beneath his feet. His body twisted and curled around instinctively to the left, his fingers grasping wildly at anything which would stop his fall - he came to an abrupt halt as his hands locked onto a thin vine and his body slammed into the wall of the pit. The vine was slippery and wet and he held on with some difficulty, but too late did he regain his composure and realise the full implications of his plight. He cursed his stupidity at not recognising the presence of the membrane through which he had fallen, and he cried out with a piercing howl as his leg was grasped by a slender arm - soft and alive, yet cold... so obviously vegetable. Wing kicked out and shook his body in short powerful tremors, trying desperately to release the grip of this predator - the prehensile tongue of a glomophyte, a quasi-sentient burrowing vegetable indigenous to the Wetworld, clinging onto his flesh.
Wing winced as the barb at the end of the tongue entered his skin at the top of his leg and cried out as the carnivorous plant began to inject its paralysing venom. He glanced down at his attacker. There it was, a little distance below him in the grey darkness... the creature's feeding maw lay wide and slavering - the inside walls covered with thick stinking mucous and covered the entire area of the pit. A deep growl could be heard from deep within the plant...its body beginning to quiver with rapture as it contemplated another meal. The grip on Wing's leg tightened. The youth knew that he did not have much time left.
Wing let out a piercing wail in frustration, his body stretching beneath the irresistible pull of the glomophyte below. He struggled hard to wrap the vine which supported him around his wrist... locking his fingers around the slippery surface of the plant, hoping beyond hope that it would continue to support him until he could break free. The youth reached out with his left hand to snatch his knife from its sheath strapped to his thigh. The haft was warm and comforting to his touch and he slashed out at the thin appendage below him. The plant thrashed its body in agitation as the weapon cut time and time again into its chloroplast flesh, and in one final effort Wing lunged downward with his blade, successfully cutting clean through to the other side. He shook as the enormous grip was suddenly released... the body of his assailant falling back down into its lair - the tongue rolling back into the maw, its tip now useless until a fresh barb was grown.
Wing pulled himself out over the edge of the pit with several feet of the member still wrapped tightly around his leg. He lay there for several minutes, his back bathed with warm rainwater - its touch soothing, cleansing upon his fur. His breathing was now rapid and shallow, lungs and hearts straining with the effort, but slowly he came around - normality gradually returning to his body. The poison in his leg was spreading and he instinctively knew what had to be done.
Take out the affected area... cleanse the flesh.
He dragged himself toward the cliff-face, finding a small pool of rainwater boiling in a hollow within recently formed volcanic rock. Wing took his knife and placed the blade into the bubbling liquid, leaving it there until it was sufficiently hot. Sitting himself upright he stripped away the remaining traces of the plant from his fur - the barb breaking off, remaining solidly embedded within his flesh. He repositioned the blade, holding its tip above the point of entry and then pushed slowly downwards - his skin sizzled and smoked, the knife hissing as it was touched by droplets of falling rain. Wing threw back his head and released a cry of pain into the wind, but pushed the blade in deeper, letting out a huge guttural wail to relieve his agony while cutting a small oval of flesh from his outer thigh. He scooped the plug of tissue out of his leg and it fell out onto the ground beside him, the youth's bulbous eyes streaming with tears as raindrops fell into the wound... washing, rinsing, cleansing... removing the last traces of plant venom from his flesh.
The rainwater ran pink from the wound on his leg. Wing prayed to the gods of his World and the souls of his forebears that he had caught the poison in time.
The young traveller laid the knife down and searched around him for something to bind his wound, finding a clump of soft springy moss within easy reach. He packed the lesion after first immersing the moss within the hot waters of the volcanic spring and cut a sliver of animal skin from his food sack - wrapping it tightly around the gaping hole. Wing fell backwards into a shallow pool of mud, exhausted in his efforts, allowing the warm rain to soothe him into a deep and healing sleep.
Chapter 3 - The Dream
Within his troubled dreams he was flying; wheeling and dipping above the forest and mountains - seeking for the Gate on
the ground below. Crossing wide valleys he saw waterfalls cascade down into narrow cracks of green a mile deep. A volcano loomed ahead...silver mist shrouding its sides; plumes of steam drifting upward from the vents and glowing caldera far below. Another steaming cauldron became visible through the grey curtain of rain ahead and he knew that he was on the right track - he knew that he had almost reached his goal...Khnom lach faa...the Gate of Paradise - a structure of beauty, myth and legend.
He saw many massive tubes ahead of him, each once apparently pulsing gently - their purpose unknown. They resembled mysterious silver serpents which snaked across mountains and streams, leading him forward - down into the depths of the uncharted plains - and out across the vast wastes toward the point of his greatest challenge. They were everywhere, slicing through mountains and forests, crossing valleys and gorges suspended on fine, yet incredibly strong, crystalline lattices. They all converged toward a single point....
Khnom lach faa....the Paradise Gate.
No-one knew what it looked like for none of those who had sought it had ever returned to tell the tale, but he felt confident that he would know it when he saw it. The enormous cylinders were worshipped by his people and surely it too would be a hallowed place - a location worthy of glorification and worship - set by his people upon a high pedestal which could be climbed by a select few.
But he would be the one. For this had been his birth choice.
Wing would be the first to return the truth to his village. He would cast his eyes on Khnom lach faa and bring news of it back to his people. He would be revered - his name spoken with honour and adulation. He could choose a suitable mate from any of the fifty or so females of his species who were within reproduction age, and perhaps would attempt to lift the clouds and restore bright light to the whole of his home world - his actions ending the ceaseless onslaught of rain from the skies above. Only then could he ever hope to achieve his full ambition - tho'effe tja - adored by his people; worshipped by his brotherhood as a God.