The Black Seas of Infinity (36 page)

After a short tutorial, my view alters
dramatically, and I’m lectured on a bit of astronomy, the
surrounding planets and star systems coasting in and out of my view
in a three-dimensional panorama that swirls around in a bewildering
display. Either they have photographic memories or they realize I
do. The sheer volume of data would be overwhelming if a normal
human had to recall all of it.

What seems like at least a good twenty-four
hours passes, and abruptly the lights snap on, jarring me out of my
reverie. I’m in a tiny, completely black room. The walls have
closed in to practically cocoon me in my chair, allowing me only
enough room above to sit up. Every surface is textured in a
fleece-like motif resembling felt. The wall to my left vanishes,
and the silhouette of an Al’lak, framed in the gloomy hallway
light, motions for me to rise and follow. Crawling out, I traipse
down the corridor behind him.

I enter into a small, spherical room, the
walls of the same milky, translucent quality I’ve already seen. Two
chairs float in midair. They occupy the center of a thin walkway,
the track suspended over a seething whitish haze as it crosses the
room. The opposite door opens and an Al’lak enters, strolling up to
the chair and taking a seat. He sits and stares at me in silence
for a moment, as if scrutinizing me warily. Suddenly, a voice
resonates in my head.

“Let us [indecipherable] the business of the
trade.”

“The trade for returning me to Earth,
unharmed?”

“If that is what you want.”

“What does the future hold for me?”

“What does that mean?”

“How long will this body last?”

“We don’t know. Maybe quite a long time. The
materials it is constructed out of won’t decay, but your
consciousness might. No one has ever stayed sane in one long enough
for us to tell.”

“What do you want with the Earth?”

“None of that is relevant. The deal is this:
you take a ship through the wormhole.”

“What will that accomplish?”

“We don’t know. We haven’t sent a
[indecipherable] ship through there.”

“Yet you want to send me.”

“You are in the unique position of having a
far more [indecipherable] body than a [indecipherable]. We want you
to explore, take some readings, nothing more.”

“That vortex in space could swallow me
whole.”

“There is an element of risk, but you don’t
seem to [indecipherable] your position. I’m being advised to
destroy you. I’ve [indecipherable] that you are useful, and
[indecipherable] this wormhole as a specific example. If you were
to cooperate, your existence would be taken differently.”

I don’t know if it’s just my impression or if
they are being intentionally vague. More than before, I can’t even
make out what they are telling me. But I really don’t have much
choice.

“Alright, let’s get it over with.”

“What?”

“Old human expression—it means yes.”

He makes no audible noise that I can
perceive, but I could swear he just sneered at me.

CHAPTER XXI

DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE

I didn’t specialize in physics, so I’m not exactly
up on all the theories concerning wormholes. I seem to remember
something about them being presumed tunnels and that they might be
more traversable than a black hole. A conduit through space and
possibly time. They want me to man a craft through the wormhole and
return with whatever information I manage to discover. The onboard
instruments will take most of the readings; I’m mainly along for
the ride. They presume I can’t contact them through the wormhole,
but they’ve been extremely taciturn regarding the details. This
ship most likely doesn’t have any form of interstellar travel, at
least nothing I am aware of. Not that I would even know where I was
heading, but that might be a detail they held back from me. Or the
lack of it is a failsafe to prevent my escape. Come to think of it,
I don’t even know how their faster-than-light system works, much
less how to direct it. To the best of our primitive science, the
only thing that would work is to create a wormhole, which would
make the territory they are sending me into something they should
be familiar with. Which brings up another question. Is it really a
wormhole? It might be something they can’t quite understand, and
I’m the guinea pig they are throwing into a cosmic laboratory.
They’ve made it pretty clear I’m expendable.

I’m roused from my cell and escorted to a
transport ship. Sequestered in yet another gloomy room that I’ve
come to believe is a brig, I prepare to abandon the water world.
The lights dim, and I’m left in absolute darkness. Time passes,
when suddenly, a wall opens up, and I’m led from my cell. I follow
down a short corridor, garnished by those organic walls and the
same ribbed flooring that resembles bone. I pass a few small oval
windows, off center breaks in the primal sheath of smooth brown.
The vastness of space radiates out beyond. A sparkled vista of
black, the rounded edge of a navy blue planet far below. A few more
windows, and I catch a glimpse of my ship.

It resembles an armadillo in that it’s
heavily armored in encircling segments. The whole vessel is roughly
oval in build. There are no evident wings or any other openings,
with the exception of an exhaust port in the tail. No windows are
visible.

Reaching what must be the entrance portal, a
hatch spirals open and my escort gestures for me to enter. It’s
dark and cramped, one arced chair nestled among a profusion of
dangling implements. Small screens embedded in a charcoal ball hang
from corrugated tubes. Cables hang haphazardly in elongated,
intersecting loops, swarming around the outskirts of the chair.
Pedestals, their bony walls resembling sinuous tree stumps,
shoulder both sides, their flat surfaces harboring the familiar
array of grooves and depressions. I crawl into the vehicle,
stepping carefully through the throng of hanging apparatus. Before
I’m even seated, the hatch snaps closed behind me. I lower myself
into the pilot’s seat and wait.

It’s absolutely silent, the only illumination
a pale light from the observation screen directly in front. An
immense field of stars stretches out before me, spanning the
horizon. This thing feels more like a sarcophagus than a research
ship. I’m starting to get the feeling that I’m being used, and will
be cast off like chaff when all this is over.

Gradually, the edges of the stars in the
screen start to blur, quickly progressing into streaks as they whip
by. A whirling tendril of blue light creeps in. The screen starts
to rotate to the right, and an asteroid rakes by, its slowly
revolving mass of rock blocking out half the screen as it passes.
That was close! A spiraling vortex stretches out before me, its
snake-like appendages slowing revolving around a brilliant shaft of
pure white. Huge nebulae, drenched in crimson reds and pale
oranges, bedeck the sky, cloistering around the singularity in
writhing clusters of vapor. A large, gassy giant hovers just
beyond, its rippled orange bands reminding me of Jupiter. But Earth
is a long way off. The wormhole has now taken center stage, and the
ship is heading for the eye of the storm.

A couple of small ships fly out in front of
me, cutting through space in a curving arc as they head toward the
edge of the wormhole. Suddenly, the whole vessel shakes. One of the
craft on my screen disappears in a flash of brilliance. A tremor
resonates through the ship, and my screen fills with blossoming
flecks of light. What?

Explosions fill my field of vision, closing
in with a blitzkrieg of seething plasma. Al’lak ships dissolve
under the onslaught, winking out in fiery balls. I hear a grating
clank, and my room starts to shift sideways. The mother ship must
have cut me loose! Delving my fingers into the controls, I kick on
the thrusters and surge forward. Scrolling my view to the aft, I
see a flailing mother ship that looks almost exactly like the one
that picked me up. Its blackened shell is riddled with a swarm of
tiny explosions, a legion of assailing fighters swarming around it.
All of the smaller Al’lak ships have disappeared, and the attacking
craft are a dead ringer for my previous captors. Fucking A!

I head toward the wormhole. A couple of
fighters break away from their assault and start bearing in my
direction. I try to pick up speed, but this ship seems to have more
armor than power! All of a sudden, I start to accelerate quickly.
The wormhole must be pulling me in! The tail of my ship vibrates
roughly, the rear screen bleached out in a deluge of light. I’m
being shot at, but luck is on my side! I remember the heavy armor
on this craft. It’s meant to survive the stress of an unknown
singularity. I doubt the attackers command a force stronger than
that.

I get hit again, but it’s a momentary
distraction, as I experience an incredible sucking pressure. The
ship nosedives in, heading straight for the center. Revolving
luminous arms whip around me in a pirouetting flurry. The maelstrom
spins faster and faster, whirling into a frenzied blur that bubbles
and distorts around me. A blinding radiance bleaches out the
screen, drenching me in such an intense white my eyes can’t keep
up. There is an absolute absence of noise, a feeling of being
suspended in a void.

Then, a blink, and I’m in space again. A
glittering panorama of stars spreads out on all sides. A chill
creeps down my spine. I feel like something is off. Then everything
goes black.

A few moments pass, and I drift up from my
chair, all artificial gravity evidently gone. I stab desperately at
depressions on the control boards. Nothing. The pressure lessens,
and I grope blindly as I float upwards. I feel a small cluster of
something and push. A short glide, and I collide with a concave
barrier, a wall probably. The glancing collision throws me
forwards. I flounder wildly as I try to gain equilibrium. My back
smashes into some hidden obstacle, and I throw my hands down,
grabbing onto some invisible cable. I steady myself and swim
forward again.

Feeling along the wall, gently paddling my
feet so I stay flush, my fingertips brush over the rough seam and
into the curved span of what I think is a hatch outside. With no
light and no knowledge of how to do anything with this ship, I
don’t see any other choice. Kicking down, I wedge my feet into
something that feels solid and push forward.

At first nothing happens. I press harder.
With a low whine the metal starts to buckle. Harder still, and the
gate suddenly gives, tearing away and almost tossing me out into
open space. I clutch frantically at the jagged edges as the
atmosphere of the cabin pours out in a violent cascade, the
currents of air more palpable than visible. After a moment the gale
subsides, everything balancing out into the silent nothingness of
space. I peer out at the void.

The abyss has a strange, reddish tint, the
vast expanse speckled with stars. I make out something floating off
to my left. It looks like one of those attacking fighters, but it’s
squashed like a bug. No light emits from the wreckage, the shell
floating dead in space. Suddenly, the jagged chunk I’m hanging onto
shakes, the whole ship swaying violently. Something must have
collided with the far end! I glance around, but I can’t see
anything. Then I notice that the wreckage of the mangled attack
craft is floating toward me. I look around again and see nothing
else but emptiness. Whatever hit my ship isn’t even visible. I try
to think it through. It’s an impossible situation. I’m stranded in
a boundless realm of nothingness, not even a planet in sight. My
familiars, if I can even call them that, were being wiped out just
as I plunged into the wormhole. My ship is unnavigable and probably
dead. Being stranded out here in this void would be nightmare
enough. I can’t imagine what I’ll devolve into mentally if I have
to spend years floating in space. Assuming I even live that long.
It’s a pitiful chance, but getting into that enemy craft might
offer something.

I glance back into the hull of my ship,
searching for some sort of tether. The last thing I want is to do
is end up floating in space, unable to reach either ship. It’s too
dark, and I can’t make out anything. Looking back up, I see the
wreckage has moved closer. I might not have to secure myself after
all. If I can propel myself with enough force, I should be able to
reach the other vessel. The surface is cracked and splintered, with
what looks like a few fissures large enough to sink my fingers in.
It draws closer, the mangled shell growing into a hulking mass as
it closes in. The ship now floats slowly over me, mere feet away.
It’s now or never. So swinging my feet back and crouching into a
squat, I soar upward. Way too quickly the curved hull smacks into
my face, shoving me back before I even get a chance to locate a
crack. Oh, shit!