Destroyer of Worlds Part 21

If Thssthfok shut himself into the bridge, they were doomed.

THE DAY OF THSSTHFOK'S CAPTURE, humans had coerced him out of his battle armor with painfully intense artificial gravity. During his first reconnaissance, his captors had immobilized him with gravity. If they detected him now, they would attempt the same.

That was unacceptable.

He would have preferred to hold s.h.i.+p's gravity constant, but explorations near his cell had not uncovered any gravity-control circuitry. Logically, those controls were on the bridge. He had had to settle for a simpler intervention, only requiring access to nearby circuit breakers. Once he modified the breakers, any significant increase in power drain would open them.

Accidental discovery of his escape was always an unavoidable risk. Thssthfok wasted no time regretting that accident when it happened. And so the loss of artificial gravity was unfortunate but, under the circ.u.mstances, necessary and of his own doing Above all else, he meant to keep the structural modulator secret-for his next escape, if it came to that. Manually hardening every part.i.tion after he pa.s.sed through was taking too much time. He opened the modulator handle and slightly altered the internal wiring. The projected field now wobbled microscopically. Softened material would, in the course of enough random thermal motions, regress to a chaotic, more rigid state. Reversion would be a matter of a few day-thousandths.

Reacting as antic.i.p.ated, the humans had set Thssthfok-and themselves-adrift. In the time it took to modify his tool, air currents returned him halfway down the hallway he had just crossed on foot.

His captors would have magnetic boots and sticky footwear to anchor themselves. He had neither. That, too, Thssthfok had antic.i.p.ated.

The brief touch of a structural modulator merely made a surface sticky. He began a swimming motion, stretching out one hand for a new spot to tweak even as his other hand, sticking to a treated surface, pulled him forward. The method worked as well as he had hoped: faster and with better control than simply bouncing off walls. He had been unable to test the technique while the gravity remained on.

Thssthfok had heard voices, unintelligible through closed emergency hatches but recognizable as Eric and Kirsten. Now the intercom came on. "This is Er'o. Anyone, why is the gravity off?"

Who was Er'o? An artificial ent.i.ty, like Jeeves? Another human? Or one of the two-headed beasts? And if one unsuspected individual was aboard, there could be more.

Thssthfok half swam, half pulled himself to a stairwell. Its hatch also functioned as an emergency part.i.tion. He softened it, pulled himself through the temporarily viscous part.i.tion-pop!-and resumed his journey.

Toward-he hoped-the bridge.

IN OR OUT? Er'o stood in the water lock, pondering his choices.

The choice was made for him.

"Hyperdrive startup in five seconds," Jeeves announced in his confirming-an-order intonation. "Commencing countdown. Five ..."

Neither Eric nor Kirsten nor Jeeves could have expected the Gw'oth to understand the implications. No one had explained anything anything about hyperdrive to them. But Ol't'ro, working from subtle measurements and unintentional hints, had made significant progress. about hyperdrive to them. But Ol't'ro, working from subtle measurements and unintentional hints, had made significant progress.

And Don Quixote Don Quixote was within a singularity, deep inside a gravity well. was within a singularity, deep inside a gravity well.

Thssthfok must have escaped. Rather than let him capture Don Quixote Don Quixote, the humans meant to destroy the s.h.i.+p!

The Gw'oth would not have any say in the matter. They had agreed, early in this adventure, to share in its perils. They had accepted human command.

They had not agreed to be hurled into some alternate-dimensional limbo.

"One second!" Er'o radioed to the intercom. He wished that Ol't'ro, not he, had the responsibility for saving them. But he he was suited up to move about the s.h.i.+p, and their fate would be sealed sooner than a meld could take form. And before anyone could suit up to help him. was suited up to move about the s.h.i.+p, and their fate would be sealed sooner than a meld could take form. And before anyone could suit up to help him.

What did he know? That Thssthfok was loose. On past escapes, the humans had used artificial gravity to immobilize the Pak. Instead, gravity was off off. Thssthfok must have cut it.

Silence had replaced the countdown, but the numbers continued in Er' o's thoughts. Three ...

Jeeves had surely followed his programming in announcing a countdown-and Eric or Kirsten had ordered him to stop lest Thssthfok overhear anything useful. The count doubtless continued.

Two...

Er'o flipped his radio transmitter to the s.h.i.+p's public comm channel. "No! Accelerate with thrusters!" How much gravity could the humans take? The question didn't arise for the Gw'oth, effectively weightless anyway in their water-filled habitat. Except for Er'o himself, and there was no time to worry about that. He guessed. "Ten times normal."

One...

Kirsten said, speaking rapidly, "Jeeves, wait. Er'o is right. We'll pin down Thssthfok with acceleration."

"And mash ourselves," Eric replied. "Is that how you want to go?"

Crus.h.i.+ng weight, unable to move-it would a lingering, horrible death. Er'o shuddered. But it did not have to be that way.

He radioed, "I'm in my pressure gear. With the suit's mechanical a.s.sistance function, I'll be mobile despite the acceleration. I know you have stunners. Tell me where to find one. Once I disable Thssthfok, Jeeves can throttle back."

Silence.

Er'o knew what Eric and Kirsten were thinking. By revealing their weapons, they risked the Gw'oth, instead, taking over the s.h.i.+p. At such a delicate juncture, it would not help Er' o's case to a.s.sert they would have built weapons already if they so chose.

If they survived this crisis, perhaps they would.

The silence stretched, and in that stillness Er'o contemplated his unexpected mortality. As one within a Gw'otesht, he had thought himself/themselves all but eternal. But that was hardly the case....

The countdown in his thoughts remained frozen at one one.

"All right," Eric said over the public channel. "Jeeves, belay my earlier order. Thrusters at six gees, now!"

THSSTHFOK SWAM ONTO ANOTHER DECK. This deck was the smallest yet, and had only three doors. One by one he softened a door and poked his head within. Door three revealed the bridge. And in the large view port- It was like nothing he had ever seen, or even imagined.

In the moment he stared, a tremendous force struck him. He was smashed, gasping, to the floor- While his head remained embedded in the door.

The rim of the opening cut into the leathery skin of his neck. Very soon, form and shape would begin rea.s.serting themselves. At best, he would be trapped, choking, head and shoulders on opposite sides. At worst, the door, retaking its former shape, would sever his head. Pulling his head from the stiffer-by-the-moment door was the hardest thing Thssthfok had ever done.

He collapsed onto the deck, exhausted.

Moving so he could see his hands was even harder. The structural modulator folded into a compact shape-no broader than his smallest finger, and not quite as long-the better to hide in his cell. Somehow, he managed to fold and swallow the tool. If he survived-and if the modulator, bathed in stomach acid, did not short-circuit and transform his insides to gruel-nature's course would return the device to him. Or block his intestines and kill him slowly.

Thssthfok lay, panting, on the hard deck.

He had not heard the pop pop of the softened door resealing after he pulled himself free. Because of his gasping for breath? Somehow he turned his head to peer up the bridge door. of the softened door resealing after he pulled himself free. Because of his gasping for breath? Somehow he turned his head to peer up the bridge door.

A hole gaped, its lower edge swollen. Restored artificial gravity or acceleration-he did not know which, but it hardly mattered-had overwhelmed surface tension faster than the door material could recongeal.

The humans would would look for an explanation. He had to mislead them. look for an explanation. He had to mislead them.

Straining, Thssthfok pulled himself upright. He rammed fingers through an air-duct grille and twisted until its fasteners snapped. Moments later, from decks below, metal shards went clang clang. He forced the broken grille into the duct. The bent grille sc.r.a.ped noisily until gravity wedged it somewhere deep within the ventilation system.

Limbs trembling, chest heaving, Thssthfok slumped back onto the deck. He had given the humans someplace to look for a door-melting tool. Let them search for a long time.

The hatch to the stairwell creaked open. An armored, five-limbed-something, perhaps knee-high to an adult Pak, lumbered through. Er'o? Except for the exoskeleton, the alien's gear was transparent. Bubbles rose within; the alien was a water breather. And it was hideous, like five giant snakes fused at their tails.

The only odors were artificial: metals, lubricant, and synthetic hydrocarbons. Somehow that was worse than the thing's true, unrevealed reek. Its skin changed colors, patterns swirling, as Thssthfok watched.

Its motorized exoskeleton whining in protest, the alien raised a tentacle. Viewed tip on, the tentacle was hollow. Deep within the tube, beyond tiers of sharp teeth, a ring of baleful eyes stared at Thssthfok.

From calipers mounted to the tentacle's armored covering, the maw of a gun-ridiculously large for the beast-also gaped at Thssthfok.

Then everything hummed and went away.

35.

Saying good-bye to Sigmund was going to be hard. No one could have been more surprised than Baedeker.

"You're going to pluck yourself bald," Sigmund said. "Do you want to talk about it?"

How could Sigmund be so calm? Did he not wonder why the meeting with the Hindmost had not reconvened? Did he not understand the significance of rooms without comm, without stepping discs, of guards outside their door and following them everywhere they went?

Of course he understood. This was Sigmund.

Baedeker stopped tugging at his mane. Disfiguring himself hardly alleviated his guilt. Maybe confession would. "I'm not going back with you."

Sigmund stood at the guest suite's floor-to-ceiling window wall, looking out over an unnerving drop down to the sea. Only it would not unnerve a human, would it? "That's what you and Nessus have been talking about, I suppose."

Baedeker bobbed heads. After so long together, Sigmund would know the gesture. As Baedeker had learned to read human body language. Sigmund was like a coiled spring.

"New Terra will miss you," Sigmund said. "I'll miss you. You've been a good friend." miss you. You've been a good friend."

And friends don't abandon friends. Certainly not without an explanation. "If the Concordance fights the Pak, Sigmund, we will will lose. If we do nothing, the Pak might veer in their course." lose. If we do nothing, the Pak might veer in their course."

Sigmund nodded. "If you can't retreat, at least stall. A very Puppet ... Citizen att.i.tude."

"But that's the thing! Maybe we can can retreat." retreat."

Sigmund's eyes narrowed. He didn't say anything.

"You're right, our worlds cannot move out of the Pak's way, not fast enough. Now." Baedeker resisted the urge to resume twisting and tugging at his mane. "Unless ..."

"Unless what what?" Sigmund snapped. "You steal New Terra's drive?"

"No!" Somehow Baedeker held his ground despite Sigmund's anger. "No one ever tried using multiple drives on one world. But that is is one of the things I'll be investigating. I approached Nessus because he has influence. He can get me the resources I'll need: scientists and technicians, equipment, even s.h.i.+ps. Because we one of the things I'll be investigating. I approached Nessus because he has influence. He can get me the resources I'll need: scientists and technicians, equipment, even s.h.i.+ps. Because we cannot cannot do such tests on our own worlds." do such tests on our own worlds."

"But the Concordance doesn't have have unused drives," Sigmund said. "Do you?" unused drives," Sigmund said. "Do you?"

Now Baedeker did tear at his mane. The work he envisioned was terrifying. The only thing more terrifying would be not not undertaking it. He began to explain. "I studied the planetary drives in the past." undertaking it. He began to explain. "I studied the planetary drives in the past."

Because he had been coerced to remotely disable New Terra's drive. Cast adrift, the former colonists would have had to surrender their newfound independence. Thankfully, he had never learned how, never had to confront whether he would have complied.

But neither had he refused to investigate. Shame had sent him into self-exile on New Terra. His personal shame, and shame for his government. But now Nessus had the ears of the Hindmost, and policy would be saner.

Baedeker forced himself to look into Sigmund's eyes. "I am close to understanding the underlying principles. If I am right, I may be able to build new drives. Maybe more powerful. Maybe able to work in tandem. And maybe move our worlds out of the way of the Pak."

"Our worlds?" worlds?"

"New Terra, too," Baedeker said. "I have Nike's promise."

"And the Gw'oth?"

That question would be argued long and hard, and Baedeker was far from certain where his own feelings lay. "It is being discussed," was the best he had to offer. question would be argued long and hard, and Baedeker was far from certain where his own feelings lay. "It is being discussed," was the best he had to offer.

"I wish you luck," Sigmund said. "On both parts."

THSSTHFOK SAT LEANING against a cell wall, his eyes closed, chewing mechanically on a tree-of-life root.

His prison had been reconfigured as he lay stunned. Holes had been drilled in the interior walls. Transparent material fused over the openings now revealed cameras on the other side. Crude-and hard to interfere with. Within his cell, every shelf and cabinet had been removed, and with them any pretense of privacy. One of the vanished cabinets held-presumably undetected by his jailors-the remaining parts from his repair kit.

Once the alterations were complete, as Thssthfok lay paralyzed on the deck, Eric had paused halfway out of the hatch. He wore full armor despite Thssthfok's helplessness. To avoid the smell of tree-of-life root?

Eric said, "Listen very carefully. As soon as this hatch closes, I'm depressurizing this level. Everything but this room. The level will remain airless except when I bring food and remove your waste. I don't know how you let yourself out, or how you bypa.s.sed the hall sensors, but I do know this. Escape again, and you'll be killing yourself."

Vacuum all around would have been a deterrent, but the room below Thssthfok's cell dispensed the humans' food. That room, at the least, would keep its air. Once the structural modulator made its reappearance, he would exit again, at a time of his choosing, through the deck.

Meanwhile, Thssthfok had information from his last escape to a.s.similate.

He had glimpsed five worlds in an equilateral pentagon. Five worlds in flight! Four of the globes, gorgeous blue dots, reminded him, achingly, of a long-lost home. Of Pakhome as it had been before the final war. (But unlike Pakhome, these worlds sparkled! Tiny artificial suns, indistinct to the naked eye from this distance, must accompany them.) The final bright dot, eerily glowing, presented puzzles he still labored to articulate.

To seize this s.h.i.+p had been the focus of Thssthfok's planning. With its faster-than-light drive, he would rejoin his family. Clan Rilchuk scientists would master the technology, fly far from other clans, and establish New Rilchuk in some quiet corner of the outer galaxy.

How modest his goals had been.

The humans and the alien abominations that accompanied them had wondrous technologies: faster-than-light drive, instantaneous transfer, and now a drive to move worlds. And they did not seem ruthless or intelligent enough to protect what they had.