The Stars Blue Yonder (38 page)

“Why didn't he destroy it himself?”

Darling rubbed her eyes. “Hope that it might work one day. That we could escape, when the day came. But that day's today, Chief Myell, and until you showed up, I didn't see much hope.”

“Let me try to save you,” he said.

Cappaletto groaned from the floor. Myell had to help him sit upright. Darling watched them with her mazer ready to fire again.

“We don't have much time,” Myell said. “Last time, there were only a few hours or so between the time I woke up to the time the Roon came knocking. It's best that you gather up your team, Ensign.”

She didn't move. “Here's the thing, Chief. Even if I take you down there, there's no guarantee we can get to it. The caves flooded a few years back, water everywhere. The Painted Child might be completely submerged by now. And even if we get there, it won't work. Captain Doubleday broke it.”

The last pain of the migraine spiked behind Myell's eyes. “Who?”

“Captain Homer Doubleday,” Darling said. “He showed up here, told my parents he was on a top-secret mission. He had a man named Sam with him. They used the Painted Child and we didn't see him again for a few years. Then he came back with a pregnant woman. Same kind of mission. My mom didn't believe him either time, but my dad did. He
told us that the Roon were coming, that Earth was in jeopardy, but that a man named Jungali would save us all. After he was gone, the Painted Child never worked again.”

“I don't understand,” Cappaletto said. “He broke it?”

Myell got to his feet. The complexities of time travel made his head hurt. That Homer had come here years apart with Osherman and Jodenny confused him. Years apart? Though he'd rescued them both from Kultana before the Roon decimated the Fleet? Maybe Homer wasn't as good at time travel as he professed to be. Maybe he wasn't in control of his travels as much as he claimed.

“There's no time left,” he told them. “Whatever he did to it, we'll undo. Either piss or get off the pot, Ensign. We've got to go.”

Darling didn't move for a long moment. Then she stood, dusted off her pants, and clicked on her commset. “Speed, get everyone down here. We're going to the caves. Bring the controller.”

Cappaletto asked, “Controller? For what?”

“In case I have to blow the place up after all.”

She didn't believe Myell, obviously. Or didn't believe him enough. He was simply happy that she was willing to take them down to the Painted Child. Key to the Dreamtime or not, it had suddenly, unexpectedly become the only clue pointing to Jodenny and junior's location. Homer, that bastard. Whatever his intentions, he'd sent Jodenny and Osherman through the Child's ring on a one-way trip and doomed everyone on this base by blocking off their one avenue of escape.

The rest of Darling's crew joined them—Ammy with her missing teeth, Nelson with his filthy hands and face, and Speed with his thinly veiled suspicion. The youngest girl, Bell, was in Speed's arms. She cringed at the sight of two strange men.

“It's all right,” Darling said. “That one there is Jungali.”

“No he's not,” Speed said.

Nelson squinted hard. “Doesn't look like a Jungali.”

“He is,” Darling said, with confidence. “Everyone follow me.”

They all started down the ladder. Some of the rungs were broken or missing, though the children didn't seem to mind as much as Myell did. The lower decks were dark and moldy as they stepped downward, heavy with the emptiness of abandoned spaces—of plans that had
gone nowhere, of people who had put forth their energy and hopes and were now nothing more than rotting bones.

“My mother was the base commander,” Darling said as they climbed. “My father was in charge of Wondjina Transportation System research. They'd found the Painted Child here in the mountain and built the base around it, top secret, hush-hush.”

“I never heard anything about it,” Cappaletto said.

“Like I said, hush-hush. The whole world knew about the First Egg buried in Burringurrah, after all. This one, Australia wanted for itself. Besides, even before Captain Doubleday, it wasn't very reliable. Some days it worked like they wanted and some days it didn't work at all.”

They reached the lowest deck in the complex. Myell was dismayed at the brackish water that pooled under his boots. Cappaletto asked, “Where exactly are we?”

“Jenolan Caves.”

“Where's that?” Myell asked.

“Blue Mountains,” Darling said. “About a hundred and seventy kilometers outside Sydney, if you take the roads. Less as the bird flies.”

The hatch at the end of the farthest passage could be unlocked only by an alarm code Darling tapped into a keypad. The large metal slab groaned but didn't open.

“Stuff rots out,” Darling said. “Speed?”

He put Bell down, ripped open a side panel, and fiddled inside. A moment later, the slab opened into darkness. Cool, humid air breezed past them. Stepping forward, Darling threw a switch that lit up a string of weak yellow lights embedded into the cave walls. The metal deck sloped downward into more water.

“Is it safe down there?” Cappaletto asked.

“Not really,” Darling said.

An ominous clang sounded out several decks above them. Darling glanced upward apprehensively. Bell made a whimpering sound and Speed patted her back awkwardly. Myell, who had no intention of letting the Roon get hold of the children, gathered them up and ushered them down the passage.

The water was colder than he expected, and deeper, too. One minute Myell was shin-deep and then next he was soaked to his thighs. The
deck became uneven as it descended, treacherous with hidden debris and slippery with some kind of lake slime.

“It's a little late to ask,” he said, “but is there a map to this place? A wall diagram?”

Darling forged ahead of the group. “No.”

“He's scared,” Speed said, with obvious scorn.

Nelson wiped his hand across his mouth. “I'm scared, too.”

“Don't worry,” Darling replied. “It's not far.”

The caves were limestone; the deeper they went, the more deposits Myell saw hanging from the ceiling like icicles or popping out of the water like jagged icebergs. Pretty formations. Dangerous, too. Catwalks and scaffolding had been erected to navigate the twisting passages, but some had fallen aside and others were completely washed away.

“Nice caves,” Cappaletto grumbled. “You should sell tickets.”

“Older than the dinosaurs, my mom said,” Darling said over her shoulder.

As the water grew deeper and the footing more chancy, the two smallest children started having trouble. Cappaletto scooped up Bell and planted her against his hip. Speed glared at him, but he was submerged to his thin chest and couldn't help. Myell carried Ammy, who buried her snotty nose against his neck.

“Down here!” Darling called, from somewhere in the darkness up ahead.

Myell followed carefully, imagining a dozen different ways this was going to end badly. He heard Darling throw another switch. A power transformer snapped somewhere and an ugly buzz filled the air. No electricity surged through the water, which was a relief. The lights went out, though, which was a less fortunate development.

Darling's voice drifted through the darkness. “Damn it.”

Cappaletto, sounding braver than Myell felt, asked, “Need some help?”

“Nope.”

Bell said, “It's too dark!”

Speed said, “I told you it was the other one. Let me have a go.”

“Shut up,” Darling said. Another switch clicked. Then another. The
lights flickered and stayed on, and then a warm white glow filled the passage just around the bend ahead.

“Ha!” Darling said triumphantly.

Speed said, “That was just good luck.”

“I'm cold,” Ammy said, from the crook of Myell's arm.

Myell moved forward, Ammy still clinging to him, and then stopped short at the sight in front of him.

The Painted Child was the most beautiful Sphere he had ever seen. The colors on it—aquamarine, coral, red like rubies—glowed beneath twin ceiling-mounted spotlights. Scaffolding that had been mounted along its far side was now half collapsed, and was hanging off like a floppy metal arm. There was no sign of damage to the Child, which gave Myell hope.

But most of the Sphere was submerged in the middle of this underground lake of limestone columns, and there was no sign of the Child's arched entrance.

Cappaletto let out a low whistle.

“That's what you wanted to see,” Darling said. She hauled herself up on a rickety formation of broken catwalks and sat on a sloped patch of grating while Speed and Nelson climbed over her. She kicked her feet into the water and threw Myell a challenging look. “Still think you can make it work?”

“Yes,” he said. He hoped he sounded confident.

Cappaletto hooked one arm around the catwalk and hung off it with Bell still tight in his arms. “Where exactly does it go?”

“Right here,” Darling said. “More or less.”

Myell said, “I don't understand.”

“It's not the where, it's the when,” Darling replied. “This here's a Wondjina Sphere that transports you into the past. If the Roon get it, they'll be able to go into Australia's history and kill everyone and everything. See? That's why we have to destroy it.”

Myell's hip was beginning to hurt under Ammy's weight. His legs were cold, and he was desperately keeping an ear out for any sign the Roon were on their way.

“You did destroy it,” he told Darling. “In the permanent timeline. Now it's time to use it for an escape.”

Cappaletto asked, “You believe her? That this thing is a window into the past?”

“You don't believe in time travel?” Myell asked.

“When you do it, it's different,” Cappaletto said.

“Maybe.” He'd suspected rings could transport travelers to different eras long before he became prisoner of his own personal ouroboros. Why should only the blue ring travel in time? “What year does it go to, Ensign?”

Darling kicked more circles in the water. “That's the unreliable part. One trip through, you might end up in 1830. Another, you're in 1862. Or 1870. Or 1800. You don't want to go to 1800, though. It's pretty brutal, Dad said. The point is, it goes all over the place. No rhyme or reason anyone could ever figure out. It could change several times a day, or stay the same for a week. Every trip was a surprise.”

Several thoughts competed for Myell's attention. It was possible he could direct the Painted Child in a more specific way than the Australian scientists ever had, but he couldn't be sure. It was also possible Homer had indeed broken the ring permanently, though maybe he'd used futuristic technology or a Wondjina trick to disable it until Myell could arrive and activate it. Myell wasn't sure it was advisable to take the children through to the wilds of nineteenth-century Australia, but he didn't think trying to take them and Cappaletto through the blue ring was a good plan either. Besides, the ring wasn't due for hours, and the Roon must be in the base by now.

Ammy coughed against Myell's skin. “I'm really cold.”

“I know.” He rubbed circles on her back. “Tom, here, take her.”

Cappaletto took Ammy on his free hip. “You going in there?”

“Yeah. To see if it's even passable.”

“I'll go with you,” Darling said.

“No.”

She slid off the catwalk. “You don't know where the entrance is.”

The water quickly deepened. Myell shivered at the coldness of it as he was forced to start paddling to stay afloat. He was wary of underwater hazards that might snag or cut into his legs—not only the stalagmites,
but discarded equipment benches or cabinets, more collapsed scaffolding, poles or pipes or consoles. Something soft and sinewy slid by his leg and he nearly gulped in water.

“Anything live down here?” he asked.

Darling swam forward confidently. “Crocodiles, you mean? Nah. Maybe snakes.”

It was only a dozen meters or so to the Painted Child. Darling felt along the Sphere's exterior, judging, measuring. She unhooked a flashlight from her belt and switched it on. “The opening's right about down here,” she said. “You good at holding your breath?”

“Good enough,” Myell said.

Darling gave him a wide grin and submerged.

Myell followed her. The water was clear and he had no trouble seeing the beam from Darling's light as she scissor-kicked downward. The anxiety in his chest ratcheted up another step. He'd been right to worry about equipment—the floor below was littered with discarded machinery and what looked like a small birdie of some kind. An airship, maybe, good for short-distance hops. All those scientists and all this equipment, and they'd never been able to accomplish their goals with the Painted Child. Perhaps his were equally doomed as well.

It was a relief to see the arch ahead. Three confident kicks inside it, Darling was already ascending again. Myell followed. He broke the surface and saw the dome a good five meters overhead. Luckily, the air didn't smell bad. He did some rough calculations about enclosed spaces and suffocation. This wasn't a spaceship, but the principles were the same. Even with eight people treading water and putting out carbon dioxide, they should be safe enough until the Child's ring came.

If the ring came.

“So what now?” Darling asked, treading water.

“We wait,” Myell said. “See if it works.”

The cold water was leaching heat from him, but it wasn't so cold that he had to worry about hypothermia for any of them. He could only hope that the flooding wouldn't prevent the ring system from recognizing him as an authorized traveler, or, depending on Homer's fiddling, as Jungali.

“When Homer came through, did anyone try to stop him?” Myell asked. “Find out what he was doing with a pregnant woman in tow?”