Helix (55 page)

“The
helix,” Kaluchek said.

“It
was the perfect answer, the means of storing, if you like, thousands of
different worlds in a compact series of self-contained environments. For
centuries we planned the construct, and over millennia went about building it,
and populating it as we went.”

Hendry
shook his head. “How did you... populate it? Invite races to relocate, kidnap
them?”

“We
had various methods of saving races from themselves. Some we simply took from
their planets without their knowledge, races locked in conflict who would have resisted
our interference; it was a simple task to translocate viable communities like
this, pre-technological races who within a few generations would have
supplanted memories of their homeworld with myths. Other, more sophisticated
races we contacted by other means, consulting enlightened individuals, building
a core community of like-minded people to found colonies devoted to
non-materialistic coexistence with their new environments. Yet others, like
yourselves, we seeded with—I suppose you might call them memes, ideas,
philosophies—and then encouraged the technology to enable them to find the
helix themselves.”

Hendry
said, “The reason astronomers didn’t detect the helix back on Earth—”

“We...
you might say we masked its presence, cloaked its luminosity, until we judged
the time to be right.”

“So
our arrival here,” Kaluchek said, “was... intended?”

“That
is so. Many things might have stood in the way of your reaching the helix.
Thanks to subversives amongst your race, you almost failed to make it.”

“And
if we had perished in space, as the terrorists intended?” Hendry asked.

“Then,”
the light responded in a regretful tone, “we would have mourned your passing,
moved on and looked for another race suitable for our requirements.”

A
long silence followed these words. Hendry glanced at Kaluchek. He turned to the
light and said, “Suitable? What do you want from us?”

“Over
millennia, we have employed races to... I suppose you might call it govern the
helix, and the various races upon it. Govern, guide, assist, call it what you
will... as well of course as maintaining the technical integrity of the
structure.”

“Like
the Sleeper we found in the rainforest on Calique?” Kaluchek said.

“He
was a Maerl, a race we employed thousands of years ago.”

Hendry
shook his head in wonder at the vast scale of things that the figure in the
light mentioned so casually. “But what happened to the Maerl? Why did they
cease to govern?”

The
light said, again with the suggestion of a smile, “All races pass on, attain an
understanding with the universe—you might call it an empathy or union—which
then predisposes them to turn their thoughts to philosophies and modes of
existence other than the materialistic. They no longer have the inclination to
maintain technological systems, or to govern. They evolve, you might say. The
Maerl was one such race. Ho-lah-lee was another. Fifteen thousand years ago,
for three millennia, they maintained the helix.”

The
light paused, and the silence lengthened, and Hendry considered the idea of the
human race, so recently responsible for the destruction of its own homeworld,
being handed the task of monitoring others.

He
gestured. “Are we suitable?” he asked. “I would have thought—”

The
light cut in. “You are suitable
now,”
it said gently. “It took you
millennia, and you almost perished along the way, but thanks to your
inherent... call it survivability... and with a little assistance from
ourselves, you have achieved a level of understanding whereat we are happy to
instruct you in the governance of the helix.”

In
awe, Kaluchek said, “Gaia... It was you, you gave us the idea of Gaia.”

The
light almost laughed at this. “Gaia was always present, a universal truth. We
merely gave you the intellectual wherewithal to perceive the truth.”

“The
governance of the helix,” Hendry repeated. “The task must be... almost
impossible.”

“Nothing
is impossible, my friend. It will take time, and effort, and there will be
failures along the way, but we will always be here to assist.”

Kaluchek
said, “But... you no longer wish to undertake the task yourselves?”

The
light pulsed. “We are no longer able to undertake the task. We long ago
ascended from the state of the physical to something higher, something exalted.
In time, and with effort, other races upon the helix will ascend with us. It is
destined. It is the way of the universe.”

Hendry
said, “How many races exist on the helix?”

“At
present, a little over six thousand, though there is room for many thousands
more. Over the millennia, they will arrive.”

“We
need to transport the colonists from the first tier, find a suitable world,”
Kaluchek said.

“This
will be arranged. We have ships, and this world is available for your use.”

Hendry
looked at Ehrin, his muzzle working as he spoke. The light explained, “I have
answered all his questions, reassured him that he will return to his people and
bring enlightenment to their clouded world. With your help, of course.”

Kaluchek
said, “And now?”

“Now,”
said the light, “you will return to the plain, and face the future, when a new
era for humanity will begin.”

They
were the last words Hendry and Kaluchek heard the Builder pronounce, for the
light surrounding the figure diminished, flickered and died, and once more
Carrelli stood before them, eyes closed, before slumping to the floor.

Hendry and Kaluchek
helped Carrelli to her feet between them and, each taking a shoulder, walked
her from the chamber, seemingly passing through the wall of solid bronze and
once more into the vast base of the ziggurat. Ehrin trotted alongside, a hand
protectively clutching Carrelli’s leg. A thousand amphibian faces gazed up at
them as they emerged, and the Ho-lah-lee parted to allow them through.

Dazed,
Carrelli said, “What happened? What happened in there?”

Kaluchek
laughed. “Where to begin?” she asked.

They
passed from the ziggurat and onto the plain, and halted in shock at what they
saw there. Ehrin uttered a pained yelp of terror and Hendry felt an icy fist of
dread punch him in the gut. “Oh, Christ,” Kaluchek said quietly to herself.

Perhaps
a kilometre away, hovering over the plain, was the Church ship. After the
radiant white light of the chamber, the black ship seemed to suck all light and
hope from the air around it.

Hendry’s
first instinct was to dive back into the chamber, but the sound that filled the
air stopped him.

It
was an amplified series of barks, issuing from the ship. Ehrin stepped forward,
muzzle open in consternation.

Kaluchek
looked at Carrelli. “What did they say?”

Carrelli
cocked her head, listening. She said, “They want to know where our ship is.
They’re... they’ve told Ehrin that they have Sereth. They say they will put her
to death if Ehrin doesn’t tell them the whereabouts of the ship.”

Ehrin
stepped forward, both fists raised as if in rage against the ship and its crew.

Carrelli
barked at him. They conferred, and Ehrin turned back to the ship and barked at
the top of his lungs.

Kaluchek
said, “What did you say?”

“I
told him to ask for assurance of Sereth’s safety. He will tell the Elder—a high
Church official—that he will divulge the whereabouts of the ship only if Sereth
is released and returned to him.”

Ehrin
came to the end of his speech and waited, staring up at the ship.

The
response was slow in coming. When it came, at last, booming out over the plain,
Carrelli translated.

“They
have agreed. They will release Sereth. They have warned Ehrin that if he does
not keep his promise, then they will kill all of us.”

Kaluchek
shook her head. “But if he tells them where the ship is—”

Carrelli
glanced at her. “I thought you and Olembe were mortal enemies, Sissy?”

Kaluchek
glanced at Hendry. “We were,” she said in a whisper.

“Don’t
worry about the ship, or Olembe,” Carrelli said.

Ehrin
barked again, and started forward. From the underside of the Church ship, a
column emerged, for all the world like the ovipositor of some stinging insect.
Seconds later a tiny figure dropped from it, picked herself up and hurried
across the plain towards them.

Ehrin
moved to meet her and they embraced in the shadow of the ship.

The
Elder’s barks rolled over the plain. Carrelli said, “He’s demanding Ehrin’s
side of the bargain, now.”

Ehrin
looked up, still holding Sereth, and called out to the Church ship.

Carrelli
smiled.

“What
did he say?” Hendry asked.

“What
I instructed him to say,” Carrelli replied. “That our ship is on the shore of
the planet directly across the sea from the ziggurat.”

Kaluchek
shook her head in mystification. “But you could have told them anywhere...”

Carrelli
laughed. “It doesn’t matter, Sissy,” she said, “because the ship is no longer
there.”

“Then
where—?” Hendry began.

He
was answered a split-second later when the radio on his atmosphere suit
crackled into life and Olembe yelled at them, “Get back into the ziggurat,
fast!”

Carrelli
barked to Ehrin and Sereth, and they began running.

Hendry
grabbed Kaluchek and almost dragged her back into the arched entrance. He
glanced over his shoulder. Carrelli was right behind them. Behind her, still
fifty metres from the entrance, Ehrin and Sereth were desperately sprinting
towards them.

Hendry
dived into the ziggurat and rolled to his left, activating his radio and
shouting, “Olembe! How the hell—?”

“Carrelli
called me an hour ago!” the African replied. “Now shut it while I sort the
bastards!”

An
hour ago Carrelli had been transformed by the white light, controlled, as she
had been for who knew how long, by the Builders. Was it they, then, who had
summoned Olembe?

His
thoughts were interrupted by the deafening crack of an explosion. He risked a
glance outside. A ray from the ship had pulverised the ground a matter of
metres behind the scampering figures of Ehrin and Sereth. They fell,
scrabbling, and picked themselves up. Hand in hand and yelping with fear, they
sprinted towards the ziggurat. Another ray lanced from the ship, striking the
metalwork beside the entrance with a deafening clang. Hendry yelled at them to
dive and roll, before a third ray accounted for them. Seconds later they
reached the ziggurat and fell to the ground, and Hendry made a grab and pulled
them to safety.

The
third ray struck the body of the ziggurat above them, and Hendry was aware of
the irony. Ehrin’s people, however long ago, had been saved from themselves by
the Builders, and now they were unwittingly attempting to destroy their
saviours.

Another
explosion shook the edifice. Hendry imagined the towering blocks of the
building tumbling down around them. He was about to grab Kaluchek and drag her
outside when another explosion, this one many times louder than the first two,
rent the air. A great actinic flash blinded him. He rolled over, clinging to
Kaluchek, who grabbed him and moaned against his chest.

He
opened his eyes and stared through the entrance. The view was at once
devastating, and oddly beautiful. He thought his vision had been slowed, or
some processing function of his ravaged mind retarded, for the manta-ray shape
of the Church ship was tilting to starboard in a great ball of flame and
sliding from the air, impacting with the ground in slow motion. It crumpled,
imploding in on itself, as if passing through the very surface of the plain,
and all the while subsidiary explosions were blooming about its falling
carcass, the sight followed seconds later by a cannonade of detonations.

Hendry
rolled back into the cover of the entrance. Beside him, Carrelli was clutching
Ehrin and Sereth beneath her arms like children.

He
activated his radio. “Olembe? Olembe? For Chrissake...”

There
was no reply.

Had
the mad bastard, unable to fathom the alien weapons system, rammed the ship
with his own? It would have been a gesture unsurprising from someone as
bellicose as Olembe.

“You
don’t think...?” Kaluchek began.

“I
can’t reach him. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

The
explosions outside had ceased. All he could hear now was the frantic sound of
burning. All around them, curious Ho-lah-lee were climbing to their feet,
wandering through the entrance and viewing the aftermath of the confrontation.

Hendry
stood, pulling Kaluchek to her feet. Her atmosphere suit was torn, her face
dirty and bruised, and she had never looked so wonderful.