The Gambit with Perfection (The Phantom of the Earth Book 2) (19 page)

“Captain Barão,” Verena screamed. With not even the red emergency light in the hull, he couldn’t see her. “We’re moving too fast! We have to steady the shuttle!”

“I’m trying!” he said.

He sent out another surge of energy into the ZPF, and this time he kept the consciousness at bay. The
Cassiopeia
’s red emergency lights flickered before full power returned. He requested equilibrium-inducing synisms from his synsuit to steady his middle ear.

“Take command of the
Cassiopeia,
” he said to Verena. And to Nero: “Help her steady our positioning.”

Brody disengaged from the shuttle’s artificial intelligence, focusing solely on the mysterious consciousness still pushing all around the shuttle. Perspiration poured down his face. He lowered his head and the synisms in his helmet did their best to clear the condensing water vapor, and he expelled his quantum field from his mind until finally, mysteriously, the foreign consciousness disappeared.

Brody lifted his head and gasped for air.

Verena and Nero settled the shuttle in the void. The Granville syntech revealed the outside view.

The gargantuan Planet Vigna sat beneath them. Its atmosphere appeared as shades of blue, red, violet, and orange; a singular continent contained beige, charcoal, white, green, blue, red, and brown landmasses; many layers of clouds implied many atmospheric temperature inversions; icy poles; sinuous waterways. The exoplanet’s three stars simmered in the distance. Of its three moons, the one identified as Cerberus, with its three burnt clay mountains and plateaus, hung closest.

Verena’s mouth gaped open. “It’s … perfect.”

“Brodes,” Nero said, “what the heck just happened?”

“I’m not sure,” Brody said.

“At the last world, you mentioned a consciousness,” Verena said.

Brody looked down to his hands. His fingers trembled. He felt sweat streak down his face. “I’m not sure what I felt.” He turned to Nero. “We have no time to waste.”

“Understood,” the striker said. “Requesting permission to discharge the probes.”

“Permission granted.”

“Coordinating the launches …”

Silver light overtook the shuttle. When it cleared, the hull darkened, leaving not even the emergency red lighting active.

“My gods,” Verena said, “again?”

Brody felt his gut pulling toward his throat. “We’re caught in Vigna’s gravity,” he said.

Or he thought it was Vigna’s gravity until he sensed an impulse wave in the ZPF, a consciousness similar to the one he’d felt at CCCCm A57914678.37-1794256.2 and just now when they’d emerged through space-time from the exotic portal, but far more potent.

“No, not gravity … we’re under attack.”

“From what?” Nero said.

“I can feel it, all around us, penetrating the shuttle, and me, adjusting to my methods in the field.”

Brody connected to the ZPF in a manner he never expected to again—to protect himself from a quantum field of a quality even more powerful than the one Antosha once used. He felt its energy within him, the sensation as if a million needles tickled him from the inside out. This was the universe’s raw power, without interference from Marstone, and Brody sensed a presence, familiar but foreign, close but distant. He screamed, and his blood rushed through his veins. He held his arms at his sides, palms up.

He gasped.

The Granville syntech reignited, and the outside view returned.

Shuttle captain to Cassiopeia,
Brody sent,
steady our positioning above Vigna.
The shuttle engines ignited, and Brody felt the lift in his body. He breathed deeply and rapidly.

Verena said, “Captain, let it go, we’re all right … just let it go.”

Brody shook so violently that the plating on his column vibrated.

“Captain?” Nero said.

“It’s here,” Brody said.

“What’s here?” Verena said.

“The Lorum.”

Nero gritted his teeth. “But I thought—”

“Launch the probes,” Brody said, “you have no idea how difficult this is—”

“We should abort,” Verena said.

“Absolutely not,” Brody said. His capillaries surfaced around his eyes and forehead, then disappeared beneath his skin.

Nero telepathically coordinated the launches with the
Cassiopeia.

The shuttle activated the probes, cylindrical robotics painted with doves that spiraled down over the Vignan surface with their wings extended, reflecting starlight.

Brody threw his head back. Sweat poured down his face. Water vapor built in his helmet, condensing against the edges, forming quicker than the synisms could absorb.

Nero reviewed their position as compared to Vigna and the portal. “Love,” he said, “have you conducted a planetary diagnostic?”

“We should abort—”

“Just do it, Verena!” Brody said.

“Launching mapping probes, now,” Nero said.

Brody gasped, and the hull darkened. The shuttle descended into Vigna’s thermosphere.

“This is foolish,” Verena said, “we should return to Earth while we still can.”

“We can’t,” Brody said. He stabilized the shuttle, and the Vigna system again reappeared. “I have the coordinates.”

He thought about the colorful, liquid alloy. Was it an energy source, a natural feature, or some other technology used by the Lorum? Could the Lorum aid transhumans with Reassortment as Antosha believed? Might the cure be this close?

Prepare for the drop
, Brody sent to Nero.
Be quick and we’ll circle with the retrieval hook.

Nero nodded, activated the magnets in his boots, and unlatched.

“My gods,” Verena said to Nero, “you can’t—”

“Love, I’m going.”

Cassiopeia
, Brody transmitted. His eyes were bloodshot. Capillaries bulged on his cheeks and forehead.
Activate view from
Capricorn
probe.

The
Capricorn
transmitted to the
Cassiopeia
. Holograms formed in the center of the hull, a vast area of shaggy weeds and mossy stone near a river with what appeared to be electric sparks, cliffs, broken clouds, geothermal vents, waterfalls, and colorful stones. There were trees as tall as Masimovian Tower, their trunks as wide as transports. Plants sprouted in different directions, reaching for light from different stars, their stems as large as weeping willow trunks, their leaves green, orange and yellow, translucent white, red or pink.

To Verena, Brody sent,
Send me the results of your planetary diagnostic.

She obeyed his order, and Brody studied the data. He told Nero,
Oxygen levels near the surface at forty percent, magnetic field ten times more powerful than Earth’s, temperature inversions detected, surface temperature fifty degrees Celsius, weather patterns normal, northwestern winds at twelve kilometers per Earth hour, barometric pressure low but DO NOT risk exposure. Get in, find the metallic liquid, retrieve the sample, and get out.

Copy
, Nero answered.

All systems ready for departure,
Verena sent.

Nero knelt and held the handles on the hatch.

The
Cassiopeia
plunged through Vigna’s thermosphere and into its mesosphere. Flames engulfed the shuttle’s walls.

Entering the Vignan stratosphere
, Verena sent,
seventy thousand meters to the drop point.

The fires cleared, and they saw the Vignan sky: white star upon the horizon, orange star directly above, and its companion, the distant, gigantic blue star.

We’re entering the troposphere! Twenty-five thousand meters to the drop point!

Brody extended his consciousness and viewed Nero’s coordinates rotating around Vigna’s metallic liquid river, which met the aqua river’s waterfalls near mossy cliffs and a temperature inversion.

Ten thousand meters!

In the control room’s center, the hologram shifted to the bulbous trees with their geometric leaves and the aqua river whose tributaries rumbled across and over the edge of the cliff formation.

Five thousand meters to drop point.

Vigna’s features, the plateaus and mountains and streams and plant life, seemed close enough to touch in Brody’s enhanced vision. He felt the Lorum presence in the ZPF backing off, and he exhaled deeply. His eyes and mind felt heavy with relief.

The
Cassiopeia
filled with midnight-blue light, and the team heard,
Prepare for departure
and the
clack, clack, clack
of the hatch mechanism adjusting for the drop.

Three thousand meters!

The clouds thickened within the temperature inversions, and the
Cassiopeia
burst through layer after layer of cloud cover.

Prepare for departure.

Two thousand meters.

Prepare for departure.

One thousand meters.

Brody sensed another change in the ZPF and was about to request an abort, about to lift the shuttle back to the portal, back to Earth where he’d force Chancellor Masimovian to let his team keep the Reassortment project, when the blue lighting cleared.

Opening departure hatch,
the
Cassiopeia
sent.

The hatch opened and closed, and Nero swooped into the Vignan troposphere.

The
Cassiopeia
veered and hovered like a hawk.

Nero was rendered in holographic form before them.

The
Capricorn
probe provided a ground–up visual, but the newly swarming clouds in the inversions obscured the top–down visual from the shuttle.

Adjust ten degrees west
, Verena sent to Nero,
target should be appearing—
A flash of silver light that filled the Vignan sky obscured the view inside the shuttle. Brody and Verena covered their eyes.

“Captain,” Verena said, “what’s happening?”

Cassiopeia
, Brody sent,
clear the panels.

Panels clear, Captain. Disturbance originated from Planet Vigna
.

“Look,” Verena said, “there!” The rendition from the
Capricorn
probe focused. “He’s lost control!”

Nero spun and flailed as if unconscious. Brody and Verena tried to connect with him through the ZPF. When that failed, they tried
Cassiopeia.

Striker Nero is unresponsive
, the shuttle replied.

Verena slung her fist toward Brody. “I told you!” She manipulated the data stream to determine Nero’s position. “Take us to him!” She reconnected to the shuttle.
Take us to him, now!

The
Cassiopeia
tipped to its side and rocketed down, exploding through the layers of cloud cover until the massive trees materialized, and beneath them the aqua river, steam drifting up from the springs that pocked its sides.

Nero was about to plunge into the water.

We can’t get to him
, Brody sent,
but I won’t leave him here.

Cassiopeia
, Verena sent,
eject retrieval hook!

Striker Nero is out of range,
the
Cassiopeia
replied.

The Lorum’s telepathic energy overwhelmed Brody, and the planetary view faded. The shuttle spun slowly toward a jungle. Verena twisted her head back and forth in her egg-shaped helmet. Sweaty strands of hair were pasted to her chin.

Brody swiveled his head weakly, his face pale.

Their last view of Vigna beyond the trees was of Nero crashing into the sinuous river. Verena screamed.

Brody’s world darkened.

Beimeni City

Phanes, Underground Central

2,500 meters deep

Spring had turned to summer upon the surface, while the Great Commonwealth entered its second trimester in the time since the Barão Strike Team had launched its Mission to Vigna. Progress on Project Silkscape was slower than Damy would have preferred, with not enough prehistoric fauna or flora yet produced, giving her less confidence her team could meet the 370 AR deadline for opening day. More than once she thought about the latest Harpoon Champion; in the end, Damy pressured the Placement Committee to add Gwendolyn Horvearth to Brody’s team, and her understanding was that upon his return, should he return, Gwen would be assigned as his shadow apprentice.

Since her and Verne’s first trip to the lake, Damy found herself with him more often, in and out of the Nicola Facility. They traveled together to Silkscape City in Lovereal, to Palaestra Lake, and the RDD cafés. On their days off, they frequented the Entertainment District in Beimeni City, the bazaars in Palaestra City, the Northeast gorges, and even the vineyards in Vivo.

She stood with Verne now on the cobblestone walk near Masimovian Crossing, near Beimeni River. The crossing was lifted. A flotilla of skiffs and rafts sent their wake against the banks. Artificial winds blew dust over the Dunes of Phanes. In the distance stood the crystal, carbyne, limestone, and alloy buildings of the city’s wards, districts, and center, Masimovian Tower standing tall, its spires alight with the illusory sun. Granville spheres staged in the valley upon pedestals displayed the void of Lagrange point one, and in the distance, the solar system’s sun.

“Is this how it ends?” Damy said. “No body to fossilize, no offering for the gods?” A traditional strike team burial consisted of synthetically fossilizing the human remains, encapsulating them in a missile, and sending the missile toward the center of the cosmos, theoretically to the Twin Gods.

“Don’t talk that way,” Verne said. “You saw the shuttle disappear. You heard Danforth’s update.”

“You know the media isn’t always reliable,” Damy said. She hadn’t been at Heywood’s conclave when he’d announced the creation of exotic matter. But she knew that collapsing the wavefunction to travel thousands of light years through space was much more difficult than anything her eternal partner, or any skilled telepath, had attempted with the ZPF in transhuman history.