Read The Farpool Page 20

Chapter 18

  Seome

  Kinlok Island

  Time: 768.2, Epoch of Tekpotu

  Kloosee drove their kip’t upward, toward the surface. The waters became rough and turbulent in the coastal zone of the island. Pakma followed behind in a separate kip’t. The remainder of the little fleet stayed below the surface.

  A few beats from the Notwater, with the Sound hammering the water like a fist, Kloosee stopped. He extracted the signaler from its pouch. Kloosee pressed the signaler against the sled’s cockpit bubble and activated it.

  At first, Chase heard nothing. Kloosee explained that the signaler worked on sound. It emitted pulses of a certain frequency that the Umans had recommended.

  “I’m telling the Umans that we wish to meet. I’m telling them we wish to discuss matters of great importance…that we have new ideas on how to alter their machine so it doesn’t have destructive effects. We’ll see what they say.”

  Chase heard nothing. All he could hear, all he could concentrate on, was the wavemaker, the Uman Time Twister, slamming the cold waters with thundering pulse after pulse, rattling his teeth, jarring his whole skeleton.

  Jeez, how do they put up with this crap?

  The answer wasn’t long in coming. Chase saw the signaler buzz as if it were a trapped bird. Kloosee interpreted the buzzing, with a frown.

  “They say they will meet with us. For a short time only. The tracking hut on the hill. Where we were before. It seems there are new developments with their enemy. A new threat approaches so the meeting must be short.”

  Chase wondered just what threats were approaching.

  Kloosee drove them to the surface. A gale was blowing topside. Towering waves crashed over them and the kip’t wallowed like a sick whale, rolling in all the froth and foam. Winds screamed. It was daylight…barely, but to Chase it seemed more like twilight. Or maybe dawn. It was hard to tell.

  Moments after they had breached, Pakma did likewise. Kloosee and Pakma had already exchanged ideas on how to go about the meeting.

  “We brought one kee’too, it’s in Pakma’s kip’t. I’m going with you, eekoti Chase.”

  At first, Chase didn’t understand. Then he realized Kloosee was describing the same lifesuit he and Angie had first used when they arrived. “Can you get around on land with that thing?”

  “Yes, it has many features. Once I put it on, the mobilitors will propel me forward.”

  Chase and Kloosee debated the meaning of the word that his echopod had translated as ‘mobilitor.’ In the end, Chase figured ‘legs’ would do just as well.

  Once Kloosee had the lifesuit on, Chase thought he looked like a cross between a submarine and ‘Diver Dan.’ The thing had both propulsors for in-water maneuvering and it did have two legs, each powered by water held under high pressure.

  The two of them waddled up onto the beach, staggering against fierce wind gusts. Ahead of them on a sand ridge was the tracking hut. Several Umans stood outside. They had suppressor guns but no shots were fired.

  Chase noticed that both Umans kept their weapons trained on him and Kloosee as they made their way up the sand hill. At the top, Chase attempted a sort of half wave. He stopped when a gun was leveled right at his face.

  Don’t want to go through that again. I come in peace…that was all he could think of, but he didn’t say that. Instead, he spoke and let the echopod do the translating. He wondered what his voice sounded like.

  “We want a meeting…can we meet here?”

  One of the Umans was the same blade-headed officer they had encountered before. Captain Acth:On’e. The second Uman Chase realized was Lieutenant Golich.

  Brusquely, the Umans gestured with their weapons. Inside. Chase and Kloosee waddled into the tracking hut and found Ultrarch-Major Dringoth sitting at a table, poring over a display that he had unrolled and laid out for inspection. Objects on the display had a life of their own, moving about like bugs on a newspaper. The Ultrarch-Major stabbed the edge of the display with an index finger. The bugs stopped.

  Dringoth looked up and squinted at the two of them.

  “Well, what do you two freaks want now?” He looked closer at Chase. “Aren’t you the one who speaks English? Your signaler said this was urgent.”

  Kloosee motioned for Chase to begin. “Sir, we have new proposals…to help with your machine. Modifications to make it less destructive.”

  Dringoth snorted. “It’s a weapon…it’s supposed to be destructive. What are you talking about now?”

  “We have a plan to help re-locate your machine…there are other islands, away from the cities—“They had brought echopods detailing the plan, to dismantle the wavemaker and re-build it elsewhere. Now, Kloosee laid out a trio of echopods and activated them. The voices were high-pitched, almost nasal, but recognizably English, though interrupted with clicks, squeals, honks and other untranslatable noises.

  Dringoth’s eyebrows went up. “Is this a joke? I’m not relocating anything. Look, we’re running a weapon battery here, trying to fight off the Coethi…in fact, there are enemy jumpships nosing around this sector even as we speak. We’re already going to threat level one as it is. We may have to engage any minute now.”

  Chase waved at the murmuring echopods. “Please, sir…if you would just listen…we have engineers with us, all kinds of tradespeople. More can come—

  For a few minutes, Dringoth leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on a console, listening. Acth:On’e and Golich stood nearby, smirking, whispering to each other. Golich chuckled, pointed at the still-wet lifesuit Kloosee was wearing. They could all hear the motors and mobilitors humming, trying to keep Kloosee upright, the way the Umans were. Golich called him a clown.

  Finally, Dringoth had had enough. He slammed his chair back down. “We’re very busy right now, trying to keep tabs on all the targets Sector keeps sending us. The Coethi are close…hell, they could pop out of a timestream and let fly starballs at any time. Anyway, this is all academic…Sector would have to approve of your plan…and that won’t happen in the middle of an engagement.”

  “Totally infeashhh…ible” slurred Acth:On’e. “Never work.”

  Golich scoffed. “Hell, your own world will be undefended from Coethi attack if we take the Twister offline. Did you ever think of that? There’d be one hell of defensive hole in this sector of the Halo.”

  Almost as if to emphasize what the Umans were saying, an alarm started beeping at a console behind Dringoth. Instantly, the Ultrarch-Major whirled his chair around, pecked at some keys. “Just like I thought…timestream H-4499, one…no, looks like three jumpships…jeez, right on top of us—“

  “I’m on it, sir,” shouted Acth:On’e. The Captain bent to another console, studied the displays, tapped some more keys.

  The entire hut shuddered as the Time Twister slew around to engage the enemy ships.

  “T-buffers tracking…tracking….” said Golich. “I’ve got ‘em bracketed…target solution coming up, Major.”

  Dringoth said, “Field stabilizing…just a little closer…Golich, you may match bearings and fire when you’ve got the solution.”

  Outside the hut, across the ten kilometers of the Time Twister’s base, scores of hemispherical caps rotated in unison. Intense whirlpools churned up the waters around the vast machine as her generators spun up to grab a slice of spacetime and pinch it just enough to snap the Coethi ships across the galaxy.

  Then, Acth:On’e slammed his console. “Starballs! One…no, now three launches…three starballs in the sky….headed this way—“

  Dringoth looked back at Kloosee and Chase. “Best take cover now, while you still can. Once those buggers hit, the sky will light up like an inferno---“

  Already an intense light glowed through the tiny windows of the tracking hut. Outside, the sea was rising in the bay and swept over the beach with scalding, hissing breakers, quickly washing the Kloosee’s kip’t out
to sea, swamping the sled. Beyond the headlands, heavy swells boiled and dense hot mist soon blanketed everything. The Omtorish who remained behind soon found the water too hot to stand and backed away, diving deeper to find colder water. A dull red glow glinted off the rock cliffs behind the hut, diffusing in the mist like a false sunset.

  Within the hour, the first starball would impact Sigma-Albeth B, the sun. Already, it outshone the sun; in a quarter of the sky from which Sigma Albeth never gleamed, a broad swath of light burned a blinding radiance.

  Against all common sense, Chase used the commotion to slip outside. The Umans paid no attention. They were preoccupied with operating their weapon. Even as he clung to the doorframe, bracing himself against hot gales sweeping up from the beach, Chase shielded his eyes and glanced skyward, as close as he dared into the fiery disk of Seome’s sun.

  Though he couldn’t be sure, he thought there were black spots darkening the disk of the star. Whether by clouds or something else, the level of daylight momentarily lessened. It returned a few minutes later.

  Dringoth hastily excused himself and left the hut, sprinting across the sand dunes now whipped with furious winds, back to the Battery command post. The Twister was now active and whirlpools all around Kinlok were spinning up, deepening and roaring into foaming, frothing cavities.

  The Omtorish who had remained behind in the water backed off further, to avoid being sucked in.

  The battle raged for nearly an hour, with the sky flaring, then darkening, as Sigma Albeth took hit after hit. The Coethi starballs were clearly doing damage to the star. Great damage was also done to the waters around the island.

  Soon, Acth:On’e and Golich fled the hut and Chase and Kloosee were alone. They hid beneath tables for awhile, then during a lull in the bombardment, when the winds had died down to a series of gusty tempests, they left the hut and scrambled back into the water. They were picked up by two kip’ts reconnoitering the island from afar. Pakma was piloting one of them.

  For over a day, while the battle raged in the skies above them, the small fleet cruised through tempestuous waters around the island, diving deeper when the sky flared and the waters hissed, then rising near the surface when it cooled and calmed, signaling the Umans when they could.

  For many hours, there was no response.

  Finally, a brusque answer came back from the Umans. Meet at the hut. We must talk.

  The hut was in ruins when Kloosee and Chase climbed the molten remains of the sand dunes and poked their heads inside. This time, only Dringoth was there, kicking idly at ruined banks of equipment, picking up loose wire, brushing sand and sea salt from his consoles. The hut had no roof and a hot wind howled overhead. The sky outside seemed like a gray veil, almost twilight.

  Dringoth was solemn. “We lost two with this one…Leeve and Serapius. Good soldiers, both of them. Casualties of war…I really hate that phrase, you know? “ Dringoth stared blankly out to sea, watching the surf pile up around the headlands that guarded the bay. “Casualties of war…there it is again…voidtime does that to people. I lost another friend that way—an Elamoid fellow, you know how they are, half machine and half lizard. We blipped into voidtime together and both took a hit from a Coethi timecrasher. I blipped back to truetime. He never returned.” Dringoth relived the experience and sighed. “I guess three hundred plus terrs in voidtime is enough sacrifice for any warrior. Timejump shouldn’t keep sending them out like that.”

  Chase and Kloosee both noticed that most of the echopods were still intact; in fact, Dringoth had lined them up a rickety table and was fiddling with the controls.

  Chase asked,” Have you examined our ideas, Major?”

  Dringoth stared blankly at one pod, turning it over end for end in his hand. “I’ve listened to most of them. You know the Twister will have to be taken down for quite some time, taken offline. Acth:On’e figured out what happened…one of the starballs leaked fusium into your atmosphere. You know they’re mostly made of the stuff. That’s what incinerated everything. Twister took substantial damage from the waves and the wind. We won’t be defending anything for awhile…Sector’s already sending maintenance crews but it’ll be weeks before they can get here. Meanwhile, Halo-Alpha’s wide open—“

  Kloosee stared through his lifesuit helmet at just how much damage had been wrought. The hemispherical caps that were the twist field nodes of the machine had been wrenched off the top, and many now floated like so much flotsam among other debris in the waters off Kinlok.

  “We’ve brought many engineers with us. Many tradespeople. Perhaps we can help…if you would consent to dismantle your machine and rebuild elsewhere…we have a place in mind.”

  At that, Dringoth looked up, as if hearing them for the first time. He had a quizzical look on his face. His gray buzzcut was streaked with dirt and sweat, in spite of a cold wind whistling through the hut.

  “Is that some kind of suit you’re wearing?”

  Kloosee tried to explain about the lifesuit but the echopod translator made a mash of his words. “The kee’too allows me to survive in your world, the Notwater. It allows me to breathe, move about, manipulate things, communicate.”

  Dringoth took that in. “So there really are cities down there, under the surface?”

  Chase spoke. “Hundreds, Major. There are millions of Seomish. A whole civilization, you wouldn’t believe—moving your machine would save all of them. You should come below with us…I could show you things you’d never believe in a million years.”

  Dringoth continued playing with the echopods. “I don’t know what to believe. Let’s suppose, for argument’s sake, that I put your idea to Sector. They’ll have to approve it. They’ll want to send their own people...some are already coming. And Coethi’s still around…Timejump Command will want to flood this sector with jumpships, try to clean up the major timestreams. Provide some kind of defense for Halo Alpha. Look, I’ll be honest with you two—“ he fluttered his hands, searching for the right words “—whatever you are…I’m skeptical. But I’ll put the idea to Sector and see what they say. That’s all I can do.”

  Chase and Kloosee both agreed that the offer was fair. They left the hut and headed out to sea, boarding the kip’t piloted by Pakma. The other kip’ts of the fleet hovered nearby.

  “Well, what did they say?” Pakma asked.

  Kloosee pulsed something more than curiosity behind her question…the bubbles were complicated, the echoes mixed and turbulent. Anxiety, maybe? Resignation, blended with a touch of hope?

  “Eekoti Chase may have convinced the Uman commander to ask his superiors about our plan. Maybe it takes a Uman to know a Uman, I don’t know. We’ll know shortly. In the meantime, keep your distance from the island. The waters are still boiling. And what’s in those pouches back there…I’m starving.”

  The three of them munched on gisu and ertleg, with some crab legs thrown in. Chase was hungrier than he realized.

  “Something’s bothering you, eekoti Chase,” Pakma told him, as she sucked on a fruit bulb. “I can pulse it…what is it?”

  Chase just shook his head. “I can’t hide anything from you two.”

  “You echo like a midling,” Kloosee told him. “You haven’t yet learned the Omtorish trick of masking what should be masked.”

  “Well, you’re right, I haven’t. I was thinking about the wavemaker, how it sort of creates and maintains the Farpool. If Major Dringoth shuts down the wavemaker, won’t the Farpool stop working?”

  Kloosee admitted that such was likely. “Longsee…in fact, most of the Academy, think the wavemaker creates all the whirlpools, including the Farpool. I don’t understand it. Probably nobody does. But yes, I’d say you’re right. The Farpool will vanish once the wavemaker is stopped.”

  Now, Chase got right to the point. “If you help the Umans re-build their machine, will the Farpool come back? Will it re-appear again?”

&nbs
p; Kloosee now understood what Chase was driving at. “Our understanding of the Farpool and how it works is imperfect. This is a question for Longsee. In my opinion, with help from the Umans, we can re-create the Farpool when the wavemaker is re-built.”

  Chase had made up his mind. “I want to use the Farpool again, before it’s shut down. I want to see what’s happened to Angie.”

  Kloosee and Pakma looked at each other. No words were spoken. They weren’t needed. Echoes and pulses were enough. Perhaps Longsee would be better at explaining the situation to him.

  But before either of them could say anything else, the signaler buzzed. It was Dringoth. He wanted to meet again. At the hut.

  Sector and Timejump Command had approved the Omtorish plan. Dringoth’s message was simple and direct.

  We need to work out the details. At the usual place…we’ve partially re-built it. Come at once.