Prenkip pondered the possibilities. “You really think all this stone business may be nothing more than a human ruse to discredit us with the Mallatyahans?”
“It makes more sense to me than tales of green rocks disappearing troopers and humans,” Vuikak replied with fervor. “Why should we not find out for ourselves?”
“Why not, indeed?”
Vuikak pushed the argument home. “What is the harm in placing, say, two of the designated ‘growing’ stones together? That if this is not all fiction we will be overwhelmed by a surfeit of fresh vegetables?”
Finally persuaded, Prenkip gestured consent. “We should do this here, away from the base.” Already bringing up the rear of the column, they purposely let themselves fall farther behind. In the fading light of evening, no one took notice.
To further ensure that they would be able to carry out their experiment unimpeded, Vuikak unwrapped the first stone from Prenkip’s pack as they walked. Falling behind his companion, the technician returned the favor. Shielding the stones from sight of their comrades with their bodies, the two AAnn examined the specimens.
“See? Lumps of green glass is all they are,” Vuikak insisted. “Volcanic slag, static and harmless.”
Prenkip had noted the labels on the respective wrappings. “You were right. These are growing stones. It will be fascinating to observe if they do anything and comparatively harmless if they do.”
“The procedure is to bring them together carefully to see if they merge. At least, that is what is supposed to happen.”
Prenkip turned the uneven olivine mass over in his scaly fingers. “None of the exposed faces appears shaped to fit into any other. I suppose we just push them against each other?”
“That is the rumor.” Vuikak made eye contact with the technician. “If any kind of reaction ensues, we pull them apart. Agreed?” Prenkip gestured understanding and assent.
Out of sight of the rest of the group, they brought both masses together. A soft click ensued. That was all. No blinding flash of light, no aural implosion, no surreal distortion of reality—just an ordinary-sounding click. It was exactly what one would expect to hear from knocking two rocks together.
Vuikak was at once disappointed, angry, and relieved. “See?” he told his partner in experimentation. “I was right. This whole business of the sacred stones having mysterious powers is nonsense, a product of the perverse human imagination. They have deceived us.” He lifted his gaze to the rest of the troop, marching stolidly along just ahead. “We must inform the commander.”
“Perhaps we performed the procedure incorrectly.” Having taken so long to be persuaded, Prenkip wasn’t quite ready to give up. “Let us try once more.”
A disgruntled Vuikak reluctantly agreed. “Very well. But it is evident that we have been wasting our time.”
Turning the stones so that different sides faced each other, they brought them into contact a second time. The result was—another click.
“Rocks.” A thoroughly disgusted Vuikak eyed the specimen he was holding. “Utilizing native mythology and a little imagination, the humans have fooled us badly. But you and I have discovered the subterfuge in time. We will tell the commander, and the stones can be returned to their holding places before any serious harm is done to our diplomatic efforts among the Parramati.” He extended a hand to the technician. “Here—give me that useless thing!”
So saying, and before Prenkip thought to object, Vuikak took the second stone and whacked it angrily against the one he already held. The resulting noise sounded exactly like two lumps of volcanic glass striking one another: a click magnified. Disdainfully he dumped both of them by the side of the narrow trail, onto a patch of short grassy growth.
“I still think we may be doing something wrong.” Having had promotion and glory waved wildly in front of him, Prenkip was now reluctant to surrender the vision.
“What? What could we possibly be doing wrong?” Vuikak was deeply disheartened. “Look at these things.” He kicked one of the stones. It rolled up against the second and lay there, motionless and inert. “It is time to inform the commander.” So saying, he raised his voice and hissed importantly.
“Perhaps the only stones that generate unexpected effects lie on Torrelau,” Prenkip suggested.
Vuikak watched as those at the rear of the column turned. “If that is the case, then it is up to the commander to find a means of dealing with them. Regardless, it does not alter our situation here. These useless rocks must still be returned to their owners and our status among them preserved.”
As the other members of the expedition gathered around the two unauthorized experimenters, Vuikak told them what had occurred. Essasu listened gravely, waiting until the technician had finished before commenting.
“I should have you downgraded in rank and transferred, but it seems you have saved all of us a great embarrassment.” He nodded in the direction of the two stones lying by the side of the trail. “Show me.”
Vuikak nodded. Bending, he picked up the two growing stones and brought them together. He did this repeatedly, without visible consequence.
“If among the Parramati only the stones of Torrelau have the kind of hidden power we witnessed firsthand,” Piarai whispered to his superior, “then we will have to obtain specimens from that island.”
Essasu nodded resignedly. “A far more difficult proposition, but not an impossible one. After we have returned these stones to their ‘masters,’ we will return to base. Tomorrow I will consider proposals for a surreptitious collecting expedition to Torrelau. Now I am tired, and greatly frustrated.” Stepping forward, he put a clawed hand on Vuikak’s shoulder.
“I will not downgrade or otherwise censor you.” He glanced at Prenkip. “Either of you. But I cannot promote you for disobeying orders. The most I can offer is my personal gratitude.” He withdrew the hand and turned to address the others.
“The stones in our possession must be taken back. We will claim they were stolen by agents of the humans—the agenting species needn’t be identified. In gaining the gratefulness of the locals for their return, we may yet see some profit from this day’s work.”
Piarai was properly admiring. “An astute turning of a regretful situation, Commander.”
“Thank you,” Essasu hissed. “It may be that the events that unfolded before us that night on Torrelau had nothing to do with so-called sacred stones and were the result of some action or activity the source of which is still unknown to us. There is much we do not know about this world. From now on I will be most reluctant to jump to excitable conclusions about anything having to do with native mythology.”
Piarai was dutifully supportive. “The history of imperial exploration among aboriginal cultures is fraught with research that yielded little that was useful at first but that proved highly salutary later.”
Essasu made a casual gesture of agreement and turned away, muttering to himself. “Why did I not see it earlier? Some other mechanism was responsible for the debacle outside the human station. The humans themselves may even have been involved. I can imagine them enjoying a diversion at our expense. Well, we will uncover the truth, and then will come the reckoning.” Removing the weather stone he was carrying, he let it fall by his feet. It bounced once, struck the two growing stones, and rolled to a stop.
“Thanks to the enterprise of these two,” he declared, indicating the attentive Prenkip and Vuikak, “we have learned something valuable and been spared much trouble.”
Yaarinda considered the onset of night. “Could we not wait until tomorrow to return the stones, Commander?”
“I know that everyone is tired. I believe that I am more tired than most,” Essasu replied. “But I wish to put an end to this. We have lights and adequate instrumentation to allow us to find our way and retrace our steps. I will sleep better knowing that relations between ourselves and the people of this island have been maintained.”
Yaarinda bowed her head deferentially. “It shall be as you de
sire, Commander.”
Essasu turned away. “Piarai, you and I will return to base. There is real work to be done. The others can take back the stones. Yaarinda, you will take charge of the returning. Remember our story: they were stolen by unknown agents of the humans on Torrelau and we, at some danger to ourselves, succeeded in recovering them for our friends the Mallatyahans. We can expect them to be grateful.”
Removing the remaining two stones he carried from his pack, Essasu tossed them on the ground next to the three already there. The other members of the party could redistribute them as they saw fit. Piarai removed the pair of stones he carried and added them to the accumulated mass.
When the last stone made contact with the small pile, the agglomeration fused instantly. A rush of green radiance brighter than the noonday sun burst violently forth, shocking Essasu’s pupils into temporary blindness.
When he was able to focus again he saw that the island had vanished, along with the evening sky of slate blue-black, jungle and trail, clouds and grass. All that remained of the familiar were his equally dazed subordinates—and the stones.
They had melted together into a single misshapen mass that pulsed with energy the hue of newfound emeralds. It had a faint brown tint to it and hovered an arm’s length above the ground, rotating slowly like a miniature green sun. Like angular, deformed planets, the helpless and bewildered members of the expedition orbited the consequence of their own accidental creation.
Barely visible within the agglutinated mass was an incredibly dense network of interwoven black filaments and other … things. Some of them seemed to be alive, or at least conveyed the illusion of life.
“What happened?” That sounded like technician Vuikak, shouting but oddly muffled.
“The stones.” Piarai rotated listlessly nearby. “The stones do work, do have power. Everything depends on how they are combined. Sequence may be as important as type.”
“Roads,” observed Yaarinda softly. “One needs to know the right roads.”
“There is great significance in all this.” Essasu felt light as a feather, free and alive. The last lingering effects of the light burst had faded and he found that he could see clearly all around him. He just wasn’t sure what he was seeing.
They appeared to be drifting in a vast swirling void, a silent three-dimensional maelstrom of green and black cloud. In the distance, prickly flashes of light took on peculiar shapes, like sculpted lightning. It was not true weightlessness, but something else. Something other.
An obsidian coil showed itself and darted toward the lightning. One by one it enveloped and consumed the darting spikes, which gave every evidence of attempting to escape. When it was through, it gave the unmistakable impression of turning to face the bewildered travelers. Essasu’s tongue caught in his throat.
The coil twisted fiercely in upon itself and vanished into a vortex of its own making.
They were not alone here, he thought to himself. Wherever here was. It did not feel friendly, and he was not comfortable.
“Where are we?” One of the other technicians had begun to moan. Within her slow precession, her posture was indicative of grave concern.
“We have to find our way back from this place, wherever it is.” Essasu used his most commanding inflections, but in that place the words seemed lost and lonely. “We have made a mistake in judgment. It is clear that we have been transported by the stones. Therefore we must make use of the stones to find our way back.”
“According to the information we received,” Piarai put in, “the human twisted the conjoined stones to activate the transport function.” He spoke with some assurance, but this was not reflected in his expression. After all, both he and Essasu knew that the human had not succeeded in returning through his own efforts, but that he had somehow been tracked down and assisted by the stone masters of Torrelau.
Nevertheless, according to the information they had acquired, exerting force on the melded stones had produced a reaction. But they had mingled many stones, Essasu knew. The human had employed only two. Might that complicate returning or recovery by anxious stone masters seeking the missing stones?
He was struck by a terrible thought. According to the report, the human had been seen taking one of the stones. No one had observed the careful AAnn at their work. Could questing stone masters track the stones by themselves, or did they have to know who had made off with them? And if they found out, would they exert the efforts necessary for recovery? Would the number of individuals as well as the number of stones involved make recovery and return easier—or more difficult?
How long were they doomed to drift impotently before the Parramati of Mallatyah decided to come looking for their missing stones? Planning to be gone from base for only a day, the AAnn had brought little in the way of food and drink. Certainly the prospects of scavenging any life support in this place were remote.
“We cannot float like helpless bubbles while waiting for the Parramati to find us, as they did the human,” he announced. “We must try to extricate ourselves.” He found that by kicking he could swim toward the green mass. The intense inner luminescence showed no signs of dimming. “Piarai, can you reach it? Everyone, try to make contact!”
“To what end?” Vuikak was disconsolate and made no effort to hide it.
“The human was able to alter his locale by putting pressure on the ends of the affecting mass.” Reaching the stone, Essasu grabbed hold with both hands, trying to dig his fingers into its substance. Sharpened claws slid off the glassy sides, but strong hands succeeded in obtaining a firm grip. On the opposite side, Piarai did the same.
“Try to twist the ends,” he instructed his second-in-command. “Try to make them move.” Canines sliding against one another, he strained against the unyielding material.
Something gave beneath his fingers. Green sparks overwhelmed his vision.
He was standing now, no longer floating free. Piarai stood nearby, the stone mass resting on the ground between them. The earlier feeling of well-being had been replaced by a growing lethargy. A consequence of stronger gravity, he told himself.
There was no sign of the other members of the expedition. Yaarinda, Vuikak—all gone.
He and Piarai stood on a flat, gravelly plain composed of sparkling black rock like crushed hematite. In every direction around them the horizon stretched to an unbroken infinity. There were no footprints, no vehicle tracks, no signs of civilization of any kind. Or for that matter, save for themselves, of life.
A sun seemed to be setting off to the west. Also off to the north, south, and east, twilight fading to pale in every direction. Above was a black sky devoid of cloud or any other redeeming feature, including stars. Of one thing a stunned Essasu was certain.
They were a long ways from anywhere.
What was responsible for the strange and unprecedented sunset? Were there four suns, each setting behind a different point of the compass? Or was natural law as they knew it simply foreign to this place?
It was getting cold. He did not want to be standing where they were when the light went away because he had a desperate, gut feeling it might never return. In that ultimate darkness things with senses better attuned to nothingness might arise and come seeking. The commander thanked every deity and ancestor he could think of that he was not completely alone.
“Physical contact with the mass must be necessary for transport.” Piarai turned a slow circle, inspecting a land that offered nothing to see. “The others must be … lost.”
And if we are not careful, we, too, will be lost—in our minds, Essasu thought. Where moments ago there had been many there were now only two. The others were … elsewhere. Drifting free, screaming forlornly perhaps, two of their comrades and their green nexus gone forever. Eventually the black coil might come for them, do unspeakable things, and put an end to it.
He stood there on the hematite plain and shuddered, waiting for the pale to dim or brighten. “We have to try again. If we do not find the others, mayb
e we will find our way back to Senisran.”
“Try again?” A dejected Piarai eyed the glowing green mass with little in the way of hope. “Travel from noplace to nowhere?”
“We must,” Essasu urged him. “Wherever we end up, it cannot be worse than here.”
The eyes of his second-in-command were haunted. “I wish I shared your certitude.”
Essasu walked over and shook him. “Get a hold of yourself. You are an officer of the Empire! Your only release is death. Until then, we strive on, in the name of the Emperor.”
“Yes, the Emperor,” Piarai muttered. “How I wish he were here instead of I.”
This was hardly the time or place to chide a fellow officer for sacrilege, Essasu knew. It was important not to give up hope, to keep thinking, to keep trying. He said as much.
“We have no idea how to steer this thing.” Piarai indicated the enigmatic stone agglomeration that was simultaneously their source of hope and despair. “We do not even know for certain that there exists a means of directing it.” His expression twisted, thick with sardonic humor. “We do not know the right roads.”
“We can try,” Essasu argued. “We can look.” He put his hands back on the stone and waited for his companion to do likewise.
For a long moment Piarai did nothing. Then a deep, slow, resigned hiss emerged from between his clenched teeth. “I wonder how many possible destinations our stone here can access? One would hope that the number is finite.”
Reaching down, he grasped the other side of the mass and exerted pressure. So did Essasu. Emerald shards flew, the continuum contorted, and they went from where they were to a place where they were not.
17
Tomochelor and Seaforth tried to maintain the station’s daily routine: collecting and cataloging specimens of the local flora and fauna, recording variants of the Parramati language, checking automatic instrumentation to ensure that the usual meteorological reports were relayed via satellite to Ophhlia, and doing their best to win over the inhabitants of Torrelau to the idea of a formal treaty with the Commonwealth. But throughout it all, their thoughts were never very far from the sacred stones: their origin, functions, design, and above all, purpose.