By the time we returned to the colony's surface facilities, Taranis had surfaced and looked to be off-loading the robotic cleanup crew I'd summoned earlier. During our absence, Héloise and Enzo rounded up a few dozen willing hands and started clearing debris from the surrounding area. Hand-held Fabricators flared and hummed, deleting damaged exterior components from The Last Resort and Café Krakatoa, then replacing them with new versions reconstructed at the molecular level. I noted with satisfaction that the majority of repairs were being made on viewport storm shutters, rather than the habitat modules themselves. Some of the shutters bore impressive dents, while others had simply jammed in their tracks after being slammed by the storm's playthings last night. The main thing is that those shutters worked exactly as they were supposed to.
It's great to see everyone pitching in like this. The Carl Sagan party were at the forefront, carving up fallen celery trees, lantern trees and bulbos with laser cutters, stacking the trimmed sections in neat piles for later removal. Others carried away bag-loads of storm-flayed undergrowth, slowly but surely increasing the cleared space forming around the colony's surface buildings. I signalled the crew to dismount and continue on foot. ExoSuits and pedestrians are generally an unhealthy mix of traffic, and that goes double for Ripleys. It looks like matters are nicely in hand here anyway.
The general mood here seems surprisingly light-hearted. It feels more like a working-bee on a neighbour's farm than the aftermath of a natural disaster. I guess that a bit of honest physical labour sits well with our guests. Some pragmatic folks might even consider this effort more mentally stimulating than cranking dead weights and pounding away on treadmills to nowhere. That's fine by me, although I can't see storm cleanup being a hot ticket item as one of The Last Resort's regular recreational activities. Even so, with roughly nine months of severe weather still ahead of us, it might be worth up-selling this idea to our future guests. I'm kidding, of course.
All things considered, we've been extremely fortunate after the first serious blow of the cyclone season. No deaths, no reported casualties and an acceptable level of damage inflicted on the facilities here. This is the best possible outcome, at least as far as I'm concerned.
I found Héloise standing ankle-deep in a swampy hollow, carving up a fallen stand of celery trees. She appeared to be enjoying herself immensely, if the saucy ditty she sang was any indication. Héloise waved cheerfully as I approached, then carried on hurling metre-long sections of trunk aside without giving too much of a damn where they landed.
Hmm. This might not be an ideal time to lecture her on physical exercises more suited to her 'delicate condition'.
"Bonjour, mam'selle. I must say ye're looking particularly radiant today." I said, bowing gallantly.
"Kiss-arse." Héloise snorted, wiping her mud-speckled face with a sweat rag. "Hoy, got any water?"
"Sure, catch." I under-armed a litre of purified water to her. She caught it effortlessly, unscrewed the stopper, and took a long drink. "Can't stay for too long, Love. We're heading out to fix the west quadrant hab domes soon, and I wanted to catch up with ye first."
"I see." Héloise said quietly. "Is there something about this job you're not telling me?"
"Nothing particularly ominous, at any rate." I grinned. "We haven't had much time to ourselves lately, and I just wanted to see you again, that's all."
I waded into the shallow pool and wrapped my arms gently about her for a long-overdue cuddle. "It's going to get better, Lass. I swear it."
Héloise smiled ruefully. "I really hope so. I want to leave this planet so much, it's almost madness... Why is it taking so long?" Her fists pounded my chest in frustration.
Two days passed before things returned to an even keel around here. At least Captain Halvorsen had the decency to ask before sending another shore-leave party down. I informed him that the weather probably wouldn't be getting any better for quite a while, so he might as well make use of our facilities while conditions were still relatively favourable. Fortunately, that last cyclone gave us a clear picture of how Manannán's extreme weather systems behave, and our Argus satellite constellation has been reprogrammed to provide considerably advanced warnings in future. The colony's base has been rebuilt and reinforced accordingly, paying particular attention to previous structural failure data. Technically, the base can now withstand a Category V cyclone, although that's not an assertion I'd care to put to the test. If there's another heavy blow coming in, we'll shepherd everyone straight into The Bastion without hesitation.
For the time being, we've decided to focus our attention on those Precursor facilities. Work on the Borealis has been stepped up to account for lost construction time during the cyclone, although it's more a case of working her into a habitable condition as quickly as possible. In fact, she weathered the storm magnificently, convincing me that the ship would serve as an ideal base of operations after its initial fit-out. Life aboard might seem a bit rough and ready at first, although the colonists would soon have access to vastly improved living conditions. Even more importantly, there will be functional shipboard systems that can be used to train our colonial volunteers, and that will shave months off our pre-flight preparation time. If Borealis is ready to launch before the phase gate is assembled and fully operational, there's no reason why we can't use that spare time to give her an absolutely thorough shakedown cruise before finally committing ourselves to The Black.
After breakfast, we assembled at the cave mouth. Time for a wee spot of spelunking. Our basic plan is to check out the cave on Kaori-san no-shima first, then move on to explore as many known Precursor facilities as possible. Until now, we have maintained a 'look, but don't touch' approach to these sites, mainly because there were other unfortunate events popping off in the background. Terribly inconvenient for anyone with an inquiring mind, I must say.
This time, we are loaded for bear. We're treating this expedition as our last hurrah, one final adventure before we have to knuckle down to the serious business of leaving Manannán. Naturally, Héloise and Enzo begged to come along. I advised otherwise, but they wouldn't hear a word of it. Apparently, their shared experience at the Quarantine Enforcement Platform wasn't quite nasty enough to dissuade them from taking another jolly stroll through Precursor territory. Fine.
At least I bothered to warn them.
The opening had formed ten metres above the cavern floor, making it necessary to abseil down with our ExoSuit grappling lines. I descended first, scanning the landing zone with GPR before touching down. Readings indicated that the ground could safely support the combined mass of our suits, although it would be necessary to scan the path ahead before proceeding across any of the natural arches that lay deeper in the cavern. There is a clearly-defined pathway running through this place, although I couldn't detect any signs that it had been used. No footprints or any visible scuffing of the soil. Just a bare, scraped path completely devoid of any vegetation. Extremely curious.
Motion ahead. Multiple targets. Sensor readings are inconclusive, although the closest possible match suggests that a few Cave Crawlers might be scuttling around down here. Not a huge surprise. Naturally, my abiding love of those wee buggers has not diminished with the passage of time. Repulsion cannons, hot. Safeties off.
They aren't Cave Crawlers. They are Precursor servo-mechs, made to resemble the aforementioned scavengers of carrion. Although these mechanisms simply scanned us on approach and appear to be ignoring our presence for the moment, I suspect that this attitude could change in an instant if we interfered with their activities. I've just seen one dispatch a real Cave Crawler with extreme prejudice, using some kind of particle beam. It then used this beam to repair the energy conduit that the Cave Crawler had been nibbling on, patching damage caused by the creature's mandibles and its powerful digestive enzymes. Pest control and maintenance, all in one compact package.
We'll give these wee chaps a sensibly wide berth from now on. As long as we don't bollocks up anything down here, I conjure we'll be safe enough. We passed through those mechs without incident, following the path as it led deeper into the cavern. Like most other caverns on Manannán, this one was softly lit by a variety of bioluminescent plants, creating the sort of Fairyland that could lure its fair share of wide-eyed innocents into thinking that all was sweetness and light down here. A quick trip through the Valkyrie Field would soon convince them otherwise. Once we've finished poking around, I'll have to secure this cavern's entrances against unauthorised entry. We're extremely lucky that we found this place before one of the colonists or Carl Sagan's visitors.
A Precursor portal arch dominated the central cavern. As we mounted the archway's massive support platform, a control pedestal rose silently from the facility's ornate floor. A small box on top of the pedestal opened, revealing an aperture apparently designed to accept a Precursor ion power crystal. We had acquired two of these crystals during our last expedition to the gun emplacement on Pyramid Rock, along with three of those cumbersome purple key artifacts. It would have been pointless to plan any serious exploration of Precursor sites without having them on hand. DIGBY retrieved one of the crystals from his suit's external storage locker and stood beside the pedestal.
"Everyone stand well clear of this thing, just in case." I cautioned. "There could be an energy discharge from the portal when the system activates. All clear? Good. Okay, DIGBY... Fire it up."
"Aye, Sir." DIGBY installed the crystal in the pedestal. The portal's hidden mechanisms emitted a low-pitched hum as the device powered up. Nothing happened for a couple of seconds, then the portal erupted in a soundless flare of intense green light that turned the phototropic coating on our ExoSuit canopies a completely opaque black for five seconds.
Who needs peril-sensitive sunglasses?
"That was impressive, to say the least." I said shakily. "Since we're working on my assumption that this is a Precursor version of a chaapa'ai, and not an elaborate waste-disposal system... I'll go first."
"Is that wise, Captain?" JUNO asked earnestly.
"Not even remotely Lass, but I'm going first anyway. I would'na send anyone where I wasn't willing to go myself. Besides, if something does go wrong, it's best that it only happens to one of us. Wait for my signal, and proceed through the portal one at a time. Await confirmation of a safe arrival before entering. By the bye, here's some ominous thoughts to consider... Hopefully, that ion crystal isn't a one-shot deal, and I won't end up stranded somewhere that's inaccessible from the surface."
I sketched a salute with my ExoSuit's right arm. "That's it, troops. I'll see you all on the other side."
I stepped toward the shimmering green energy field. Although it was tempting to reach out and contemplatively touch the field's rippling water-like surface before stepping through, this sort of thing has never struck me as a particularly intelligent move. Seems like a good way of losing one's hand, particularly as this device might have no way of telling if there are supposed to be any other bits attached. I'll treat this as a practical exercise in temporal-spatial engineering, thanks very much.
I'm in another cavern, although this one looks rather familiar. Sure enough, there are fresh ExoSuit footprints in the sandy soil that surrounds the portal platform. Positional data obtained from three nearby nav beacons confirms my new location as Pyramid Rock, and this is obviously the upper cavern that we found earlier. Apart from this portal, there's nothing much to see in here. The really interesting stuff is in the Precursor gun platform below.
"I wound up on Pyramid Rock. How's the portal holding up on your end, JUNO?"
"It's still operating, Sir. Energy readings are stable. Awaiting your clearance to proceed." JUNO said.
"Hang on a sec. I'll see whether it's possible to return using the same portal. Stand by."
Apparently so.
After a subjective transit time of 15 seconds, I found myself back on Kaori-san no-shima. There is definitely something very odd happening here, as the actual elapsed time between entering and exiting the portal amounted to a mere handful of picoseconds. As near as dammit to an instantaneous transfer time, in fact. My internal chronometer says otherwise. It's not a huge discrepancy in time, but just enough to irritate the finely-tuned sensibilities of an engineer. I'm guessing that there's some temporal jiggery-pokery going on at the quantum level, although I'll need to gather more data before I can figure out exactly what's going on. For what it's worth, I shared these observations with the crew.
Apart from that weird time-dilation effect, the Precursor teleport system seems straightforward enough. Its operating principles are roughly the same as those applied to a phase gate, with the sensible exception that users don't have to be travelling at light-speed to pass through it. I'd call that a major kindness.
Although it's theoretically possible to teleport at 'walking pace', it can only be done if absolutely stable points of reference have been established between transmission and receiving stations. Since space-based phase gates are constantly in motion, they naturally abide by a far more complex set of physical rules. The principle of 'absolute positioning' might explain how Kaori-san no-shima was able stay in place during the cyclone. All that's needed is some sort of gravity anchor... And a huge amount of power.
Jackpot. After travelling through the second teleport inside Pyramid Rock's gun emplacement, we found ourselves figuratively transported to Hell's waiting-room.
Actually, it's a Precursor geothermal power station, albeit one rendered on a scale that beggars human imagination. Rather than sink a deep borehole and draw power from it using liquid heat exchangers, the Precursors went straight to the point and suspended this facility directly above an active lava vent. Our scans have determined that this power plant exploits the Seebeck Thermoelectric Effect to a phenomenal degree, generating electrical current from heat applied to the junction of two dissimilar conductive metals. Rather than containing devices we'd recognise as generators, this entire facility is a generator in itself. As always, the exact composition of those Precursor alloys defies any detailed analysis, so it's going to be a fair old while before this level of technology finds its way into Terran hands. Still, I'm happy to learn all we can from this place and run with it.
Who knows? We might get lucky.
After a thorough analysis of the power plant's staggering inner workings, we discovered an example of Precursor technology that eclipses everything else we've seen so far.
And I do mean Everything.
I'm standing in a doorway that leads directly into the magma chamber surrounding this facility. The only thing separating me from billions of tonnes of Manannán's seawater is a one-molecule thick wall of water.
Here's the truly amazing part: I can push my hand straight through it.
I'm still working on some of the fine details, although I conjure that I now have this marvel of Precursor technology gripped firmly by its short and curlies. This monomolecular layer of water is held in place between two planar probability fields. The fields are synchronised to oscillate between charge states, effectively turning the trapped film of seawater into a non-Newtonian fluid. If a body is moving slowly enough, it will pass through this field without encountering any appreciable resistance. I've already tested this effect by passing my hand through the barrier at different speeds. The sensation is exactly like dipping your hand slowly into a thick solution of cornflour and water. However, if you ran straight at this barrier, there's a fair chance that you'll end up bouncing off it with one hell of a thump. Or you might disintegrate on impact. Reckon I'll give that one a miss. There's a limit as to how far I'll go in order to test this hypothesis.
Simply stated, the slow blade penetrates. A couple of billion tonnes of seawater doesn't stand a snowball's chance in here. There's simply too much potential energy working against this field. The harder the push, the greater the resistance that will be encountered. A truly remarkable example of Clarke's Law.
Further investigation of the power plant revealed a couple of the Precursor key artifacts and a data terminal. JUNO's currently decrypting the downloaded archive material, and there's more than enough technical information to keep all of us profitably occupied for the next half-century or so.
"Where to next, JUNO?" I asked. "Since there's no second teleport station here, we'll have to leg it."
"The Lava Castle, apparently. These files refer to the structure as the 'primary containment facility'."
I snorted in disgust. "Ah, hell. I thought we'd seen the last of that place... Okay, where away?"
JUNO projected a schematic of the magma chamber, indicating a concealed passage leading south.
"Down there, Sir. Distance to facility, approximately two kilometres through an inactive lava zone."
"Well, that sounds like a tonne of fun." I griped. "It's a good thing our suits can take a bit of heat."
We set off in standard patrol formation. Our initial descent from the power plant wasn't what I'd call a pleasant experience, as the churning mass of lava directly below provided an excellent incentive to be careful. If anyone did fall into the lava, we'd have less than ten seconds to rescue them. Héloise and Enzo performed superbly, rappelling, grappling and free-falling like skilled acrobats as we worked our way down to the passage. As soon as we reached solid ground, I made a point of checking their lifesigns to decide whether or not to abort this mission. Their ExoSuit life support systems will keep their bodies at a sensible temperature, although I'm more concerned about their increasing stress levels at the moment. This is not the safest place for either of them.
To be perfectly blunt, Héloise and Enzo are showing signs of an incipient case of the jitters, even though they're unwilling to admit it. There's no point to either of them putting a brave face on it, particularly when I can read anyone's physiological state just by looking at them. I called an immediate halt to give them some time to wind down, rather than push on without a thought for their mental states. Even though Héloise prefers to zip her lip and soldier on, she has to acknowledge her limitations in a situation like this. I admire her tenacity, but there's no easy way of telling this to a woman who took a Thermoblade to a rampaging Onos and necked it. Enzo's basically still a kid, so we can't push him too hard. It's best for all concerned to take a breather while we still can. My gut feeling tells me there's more than lava waiting for us ahead.
There's no way that we could ever bring a Cyclops down here. Our ExoSuits are coping with the heat well enough, although there's precious little room to manoeuvre in this corridor. Progress has been slowed by a need to travel in single file through some of the tighter sections, staggering our line vertically and horizontally to present a maximum amount of defensive firepower wherever the terrain permitted it. I'm not being paranoid. Everything about this biome whispers 'ambush'.
Since we've never approached the Lava Castle from this direction before, I have absolutely no idea of what to expect further on. It's a wretched, cheerless place, as far removed from sunlight and open skies as no sane person would ever want to be. My depth gauge reads 1,382 metres and Gawain's external hull temperature is a toasty 65 degrees Celsius. If it wasn't for the presence of convection currents drawing cooler surface water through this corridor, we'd all be feeling more than a mite uncomfortable about now. As long as we maintain a safe distance from the river of lava winding through this passage, we should be fine. Naturally, the thermal power converters in our suits are making excellent use of this heat, keeping our reserve power cells nicely topped up. It would be the height of stupidity to rely solely on an ExoSuit's internal reactor at this depth, and while a pair of standard power cells probably wouldn't hold quite enough juice to reach the surface, you might be able to pull over somewhere slightly less hostile and drop in some fresh replacements.
Surprisingly, there's a remarkable abundance of life down here. Ambient temperatures are even higher than those we've encountered around deep hydrothermal vents, although some creatures have adapted to cope with the extreme heat and scarce nutrient levels. Some browse on the thin biofilm secreted by single-celled organisms growing in the cooler upper reaches of this corridor, while others feed upon the browsers. There are even extremophile versions of familiar shallow-water species such as the Boomerang and Eyeye, and a thermophilic subspecies of the Ghost Ray. Haven't seen a single Rock Puncher in a fair while, although there's ample evidence that they're around here somewhere. The basalt walls are riddled with their tunnels. I suspect that they're keen to keep their distance, particularly after our last encounter. Given a Rock Puncher's outstanding potential for unbridled havoc when they're riled, that's fine by me.
Acoustics indicate a sizeable pack of Lava Lizards ahead. I'd rather not tangle with them at the moment. If we can sneak through their territory without stirring them up, I'd consider that an acceptable outcome. No unnecessary entanglements, if at all possible. We're all in the hazard here.
"Silent running. Blacklight rig. Switch to infra-red, passive sonar video overlay." I murmured.
Our lights went dead. The lava river had diminished to a mere rivulet, casting its sullen red glare on the lower extremities of our ExoSuits. If our surroundings seemed miserable and foreboding before, they became absolutely infernal once the lights went out. We slip between shadows like fleeting wraiths, moving as silently as our ExoSuits will permit. No sudden movements, each step taken deliberately and placed without rhythm, blending into the muted soundscape of this Stygian place. We communicate with terse written phrases, lest the sound of our voices carry to unfriendly ears.
For a while there, I actually thought we could brazen our way through this area without incident. No such luck. IANTO reported a malfunction in Galahad's power management system a couple of minutes ago, and we've withdrawn to a small side chamber to figure out what's wrong. Level Two diagnostics confirm the presence of a slow but steady power drain, but could not pinpoint the source. My first guess is a thermal insulation failure on his suit's main wiring bus.
"Stand fast. I'm going EVA to take a closer look."
I opened Gawain's hatch and swam out. Thankfully, the water temperature had dropped significantly as we moved farther away from the lava river. This area is a tolerable 18 degrees Celsius, so I won't have to worry about needing a re-skin after this mission. My polymer skin can handle temperatures up to 220 degrees, then nasty things start happening to the bits underneath. I unclipped the hand scanner from my harness and swam around Galahad. Nothing out of the ordinary so far. No loose panels or exposed cables. No obvious signs of physical damage. Nothing for it but to give the ExoSuit a thorough eyeballing; remote scanning doesn't tell me a gorram thing.
I almost missed it. There's something attached to Galahad's back, nestled tightly beneath the suit's power cell fairing. It's alive, and it appears to be feeding off the power grid. The creature is slug-like, about 300 millimetres long. Its dull violet skin is segmented into large scales, rather like a trilobite in its appearance. Its head has two stubby horns and tiny orange-rimmed eyes, which I suspect might be vestigial, considering the lousy ambient light levels down here. Can't see its mouth parts properly yet, so I'll attempt to pry it loose with a knife.
Jings! It's like trying to pull a pair of rare-earth magnets apart. I can't risk using a propulsion cannon with all those lava lizards nearby. Its concussion would get their attention in short order. There's nothing for it, my power-hungry little friend. Knife time. Best make your peace with Father of Tides.
"Power levels have stabilised, Captain." IANTO said. "As far as I'm able to determine, this organism drains electromagnetic energy from various sources by an induction process, diverting some of the energy to power an organic magnet surrounding an otherwise non-functional oral structure. Similar colouration around its atrophied eyes indicates that the creature uses a highly accurate version of electrosensing, rather than visual input. It's an extremely subtle and efficient parasite, Sir."
"I'll say it's bloody subtle. It doesn't show up on any of our EM sensors at all." I agreed. "Reckon it might emit a damping field of some kind? Something that masks its presence while it's feeding?"
"Insufficient data, Captain. I'll have to dissect one to determine the full capabilities of this species." IANTO replied. "Please place that specimen in a bio-sample container, Sir. I'll examine it later."
I'm simultaneously intrigued and deeply concerned by these wee beasties. One of them constitutes a minor nuisance. A shoal of them could bleed an ExoSuit dry in minutes. I'm unsure how they would affect an android, if at all... Our internal systems are EM-shielded of course, partly for stealth, but mainly because we're specifically designed for space travel. If it wasn't for the Faraday cages embedded in our synthetic skins, one decent solar flare would be quite enough to ruin our day. Permanently.
My brief examination of that 'Lava Larva' suggests that it might be possible to artificially reproduce some of its more remarkable traits. A number of Manannán's other life forms have a natural ability to metabolise metals or produce 'bio-alloys' for various survival applications. Tough dermal armour, electrical field generation, self-contained warp fields and so forth. I'm guessing that we can make some serious use of similar abilities once we return to Terra.
As a precaution, I checked all of our ExoSuits thoroughly. This has been an unpleasant wake-up call.
"Okay troops. Looks like we're all in the clear. Watch your power usage, particularly when we get close to the lava again. One more thing... Check your offsider's suit for those nasty wee buggers. We can't risk having a dead suit when we're this far down."
Now that we know what to look out for, this mission has acquired a new layer of complexity. Lava Larvae are small enough to pass by unregarded, and their dull coloration blends in perfectly with the tortured basalt formations found in this biome. Every crevice, cave or jumble of boulders is a potential hiding place for these little horrors, so we found ourselves walking an increasingly narrow tightrope between them and the Lava Lizards. So far, we have managed to avoid drawing their attention, although I suspect that we'll have to cross their path at some point. The passage has opened out appreciably over the last hundred metres, and it leads into a large chamber that offers almost no cover. The cavern floor is crisscrossed with wide lava streams and pools, dotted with a sparse scattering of tiny islets that rise only a metre or two above a seething expanse of lava.
"Nothing for it. We'll have to run the gauntlet." I said. "Set for neutral buoyancy cruise mode and stay low. With any luck, the lava's glare should mask our presence."
We set off in staggered single-file formation, using the islets as waypoints. Each time we touched down, there was a brief halt as we dusted off any Lava Larvae that had attached themselves to our ExoSuits during the crossing. It went smoothly for a short while, although the infestations became increasingly frequent as we neared the centre of the cavern. It quickly dawned on me that our humane 'catch and release' strategy wasn't working at all, and a more permanent solution to the Lava Larva problem had to be found.
Halfway to the next waypoint, everything went straight to hell. A shoal of Lava Larvae swarmed us, their numbers considerably swollen by those we had removed earlier. As an aside, it's worth mentioning that I have never seriously considered fabricating a knife suitable for use in an ExoSuit's manipulators, or fitting bayonets to our Gauss cannons. At the time, it seemed like attaching a spear to the nosecone of a cruise missile. A patently absurd notion, but one that would have saved us no end of trouble farther down the track. This is the precise point in time where that casual oversight came home to roost.
This is rapidly developing into a desperate situation. Even though our suit thermal converters are receiving a fair whack of energy, they can't keep up with the drain rate. Any suit with more than five larvae attached is fighting a losing battle. No doubt about it. As soon as its reserve cells are depleted, the larvae will be feeding directly from the reactor output of each suit. Worse still, they are truly voracious feeders. As soon as one gorges its fill, it drops off and the recently vacated feeding site is quickly occupied by another.
At first, we tried catching and crushing them with our suit manipulators, although this merely accelerated the energy drain rate. Apart from being time consuming and ultimately pointless, this tactic has other serious drawbacks. The body fluids of Larva Larvae are a highly corrosive electrolyte solution, and it's starting to damage our suits. Furthermore, our wee scuffle has attracted the attention of a pack of Lava Lizards. Things are about to get rather more interesting.
They circled us warily at first, unsure of what to make of our ExoSuits. Easy meat or a threat? We deployed in a defensive circle on the tiny rock outcrop, each one of us standing only a few metres away from the slowly heaving lake of lava. As last stands go, I feel that we've unwittingly selected a truly epic location. However, any heroic end worthy of saga and song requires at least one witness, and I notice that spectators are in short supply down here.
The Lava Lizards are becoming bolder. One of them darts in, jinking and weaving to avoid our wall of repulsion cannon fire, while its mates attempt a flanking attack. Classic pack hunting behaviour. We're holding them back for the moment, although we can't do this forever. There's a finite limit to how much damage an ExoSuit can sustain before it gives up the ghost. It's all feints and posturing right now, their snapping jaws and glancing claw strikes can't do much damage in a single hit, but their effect is cumulative. Occasionally, one of the creatures breaks through our firing pattern and gets in among us, making them almost impossible to attack. One stray blast would be enough to send an ExoSuit reeling into the lava, or cause its cockpit canopy to implode. I'd like to avoid that.
Stasis fields worked for a while, but the Lava Lizards caught on in fairly short order. It only took them a couple of failed attempts to figure out what was happening, and then they kept their distance accordingly. Worse still, the field seems to attract Lava Larvae like a dinner-bell. We're having to divide our efforts between dispatching those nasty Joule-sucking grubs and fending off Lava Lizards in the meantime, and that strikes me as a definite no-win situation. In effect, we have blundered into a Mexican standoff, and there isn't a gorram thing any of us can do about it.
"Got one!" Héloise whooped. "Smashed it straight into the lava!"
Sure enough, there's a slightly darker patch about forty metres out. That's one less to deal with. We might be able to win this one after all. Suddenly, something surged out of the lava, heading straight for Héloise. I swivelled Gawain's torso, bringing both repulsion cannons to bear on the object. The suit's targeting system flashed up 'Organic: Lava Lizard'.
What the hell?
"Héloise! Look out!" I yelled, opening fire. The graviton pulses hit, hurling the creature sideways. Instead of hanging limply, stunned by the concussion, the Lava Lizard cart-wheeled through the water, its limbs flailing wildly. By all rights, that shot should have knocked the stuffing out of it.
This one is all too obviously compos mentis, and from what I can gather, it's extremely pissed off. With a shrieking roar, it dived straight into the inferno below and almost instantly, emerged sheathed in a shell of rapidly cooling lava. No wonder it survived after Héloise shot it down. Extreme heat tolerance, and then some. Maybe IANTO has some ideas how...
"BLOODY HELL!"
I barely had time to register the lava projectiles it spat at me, deflecting them at the very last second. The Lava Lizard shrieked again, a curiously clipped sound, unlike any vocalization I've heard so far. Some sort of command? To my horror, the others reacted instantly, diving into the lava and emerging clad in similar shells of basalt armour. The entire pack charged at us from all sides, spitting balls of partially-cooled lava as they came. They now have body armour and projectile weapons.
Yes, it was an insanely bad idea to come down here. Thanks for reminding me, Captain Obvious.
After fifteen minutes of sheer pandemonium, the Lava Lizards backed off and resumed circling us. We got lucky with a couple that we were able to trap in our graviton beams. These careless ones were quickly slammed into the deck at point-blank range. I'm pleased to say they won't be bothering us anymore. However, we aren't entirely unscathed. DIGBY's suit Percival caught a couple of solid hits. Lava fragments have seized up its left leg and hip actuators, and we're in no position to repair the damage. The water temperature around this rock is 437 Celsius, and that's enough to turn any one of us into a crispy critter. JUNO says it will be an hour before Taranis and Aegis can reach us for fire support and a very hot extraction. We're rapidly running out of options here, and I'm beginning to suspect that we've finally bitten off more than we can comfortably chew.
I'm starting to hate Lava Lizards with a rare passion.
They're eminently capable opponents, perfectly suited to this hellish biome. Tough skinned even without their stone armour, and they're extremely agile swimmers. Damn cunning hunters, too. They appear to be analysing our every move, waiting to exploit any momentary flaw in our defences. Give me the pitiless brutality of the Kharaa anytime. At least they can be killed entirely without compunction, and in that observation, there's the rub. The very heart of our problem here. We can't simply slaughter everything that stands in our way, although our assailants are doing their level best to make me regret that decision. All they have to do is keep wearing us down, and they're doing a mighty fine job of it so far. Their last sortie dealt some serious damage to Guinevere and Morrigan, which means we're down to three ExoSuits still capable of operating at full capacity.
"Warning. Energy cell depletion is now at critical level. Warning. Parasite activity detected."
Gorram it. That's another thing. The harder we try to fend off the Lava Lizards, the more interesting we become to the Lava Larvae. We're being double-teamed here, and it probably won't end well.
I picked off a browsing Lava Larva with a graviton snare, punting it spitefully at a circling Lava Lizard.
"Hope ye choke on it, ye dirty scunner." I muttered sourly.
The larva smacked into the Lava Lizard's armoured flank, exploding in a small cloud of blood. Hardly a telling blow, but one that triggered an unexpected response. The creature suddenly twisted, wheeled about in its own length and began snapping excitedly at drifting particles of Lava Larva. Hmm... Interesting.
I activated comms. "Change of plan, troops. We're gonna make a tactical withdrawal. Forwards."
Naturally, this statement raised some concerns among the crew. After a hasty explanation of my idea, we formed up back to back in two ranks of three, with our damaged suits at the rear. Centurion, Gawain and Lancelot were set to be the vanguard of this daring retreat, our rearguard serving as ammunition feeders. It's a hare-brained scheme, but it might just work. Fingers crossed.
"Everyone ready to go? Snare yeselves a grub and let fly!"
Our first salvo got their attention, all right. I'd been labouring under an impression that the Lava Lizards have a personal beef with us. Not so. Turns out they were far more interested in the Lava Larvae that we've been attracting, and they saw us as potential rivals for their preferred food source. Might as well wear a live Peeper bikini and go swimming with Stalkers. Same thing, apparently.
Only another 220 metres to go. As far as we know, all of our suits are now grub-free. Power levels are building up slowly once more, and our plucky wee band now has a ravenous pack of Lava Lizards in tow. In fact, I feel slightly ridiculous at the moment. Instead of making our Heroic Last Stand, we've come down to a bunch of zoo keepers feeding stroppy sea-lions at an aquarium. I'll bet they don't use propulsion cannons at SeaWorld, although Terran seals don't spit lava, so it all evens out in the end. Some might see this as an anticlimax, but it beats the alternative ending by a long chalk.
Eventually, we found ourselves alone again. As soon as the Lava Lizards realised that no more free food was coming their way, they deserted us without even bothering to look back. Fickle buggers. This part of the corridor is much cooler, so we were able to repair our damaged suits and remotely survey the terrain in the huge cavern ahead. No more nasty surprises today.
Three broad rivers of lava flow around this tiny outcrop of rock, falling slowly into the depths below. I've named this natural feature 'Falls of Phlegethon', with a definite tip of the hat to Dante Alighieri. It's a scene straight out of The Divine Comedy, save that there's no legions of Hell or souls of the damned to contend with down here. Instead of the infernal City of Dis, the brooding ebony spires of the Lava Castle rise abruptly from the centre of an immense lava lake that formed a hundred or so metres below the Falls. I've never held to any notion that there's a Heaven and Hell, although this awe-inspiring vista is a fair replica of what it takes to keep some folks on the straight and narrow. Having blundered through The Veil on several occasions, I assure you that there's nothing like this waiting for you on the other side. Absolutely nothing, in fact. Once through that final door, sinners and saints are served alike in equal measure, and this strikes me as a reasonable conclusion to one's life. It would take some mighty persuasive speech from any Shepherd to convince me otherwise.
Same tactics as before. There's an abundance of Lava Lizards and Lava Larvae in this area, so we're going to play one species against another once more. As we made repairs earlier, IANTO suggested recalibrating our ExoSuit EM sensors to detect tiny 'dead zones' moving around in the overwhelming thermal background noise of the lava zones, allowing us to intercept and repel any approaching Lava Larvae before they could work any mischief. With the Lava Lizards thus occupied, our transit of the area proceeded more or less uneventfully. Running point 20 metres ahead of the main formation, Guinevere suddenly extended its right arm overhead, silently signalling an immediate halt.
"Captain, acoustic transient detected ahead. Dragon Leviathan, subject coded as Nánfēng." JUNO said. "Range, three hundred metres. Its motion pattern remains unchanged. Your orders, Sir?"
"If she's down here, Father of Tides probably won't be too far away." I mused. "Likewise, her sisters will also be somewhere close by. Mind now, these Dragons might not take kindly to us turning up here uninvited, so we'll have to be on our very best behaviour. A stealthy retreat may be required."
I'm seriously considering pulling the plug on this safari. Dragon Leviathans are touchy at the best of times, and I suspect that Nánfēng would become openly aggressive to our presence, particularly without the moderating influence of Father of Tides at hand. Rather than presume on any slim acquaintance that we might share, we'll have to give this area a wide berth and avoid approaching the Lava Castle, at least from this side. We should be able to slip past Nánfēng and make our exit through the eastern ILZ corridor unchallenged, but that's basically all she wrote for this expedition. Not a great deal to show for our efforts so far, either. A bitterly disappointing outcome.
Nánfēng certainly knows we're here. She's following our every move now. Her message is clear. Come no closer.
At least we've finally found where Father of Tides takes his ease, although this discovery is entirely unintentional. We'll slip away discreetly, although I'm not entirely certain how one does this without looking suspicious. As soon as we have a firm nav solution for the entrance to the eastern ILZ corridor, we are most definitely leaving.
A sudden energy spike on the HUD overlay. There's a vortex forming 10 metres ahead. Warper.
The creature materialised abruptly, barring our way. "Lost Ones not come (to) This Place." It signed emphatically. "Father of Tides break Lost Ones shell. All die. Go now."
A sudden energy spike on the HUD overlay. There's a vortex forming 10 metres ahead. Warper.
The creature materialised abruptly, barring our way. "Lost Ones not come (to) This Place." It signed emphatically. "Father of Tides break Lost Ones shell. All die. Go now."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Morrigan shift its stance minutely. Centurion tensed ominously.
"Héloise, Enzo... Stand down." I murmured. "That's nae a statement of fact. A warning, is all."
Gawain stepped forward, its holo-emitters flaring into life. My Warper avatar materialised, its outline rippling in the thermal convection currents swirling in the water around us.
"Warm seas, friend. These ones mean no harm." My hologram gestured.
My response seemed to confuse the Warper momentarily.
The colouring of its mantle strobed for a few seconds, an obvious sign of its uncertainty. Its talons lowered, then waved in respectful reply.
"You are Father of Shells." It signed gracefully. "Forgive. This one not know."
"Lost Ones swim with Father of Tides. Father of Shells swims with Father of Tides."
"This is known now. Forgive. This one is made new. Still things to know. " The Warper admitted.
Ah. We're dealing with a new recruit. Having never seen the like of us before, it probably had to check our credentials with the Orderly Room, or something like that. Simplest explanation, no-one Upstairs forwarded the memo regarding our status as trusted allies. However, I'd have to say it's more a case of this Warper encountering a pair of increasingly spooked human minds and reacting accordingly. Warpers can't read androids, although this doesn't seem to be an issue for them. As long as our actions precisely reflect what we say to them, we give the Warpers no cause to distrust our psychically opaque minds.
Conversely, the average human psyche has all manner of disturbing stuff lurking in the subconscious mind, making it difficult for Readers to reconcile any face-to-face communication with the turmoil of suppressed emotions just beyond the grasp of rational thought. Héloise and Enzo must have been broadcasting their collective fears at full power without realising it. Given our current circumstances, I blame neither of them. No human mind could pass though this nightmare realm entirely unscathed. With any luck, we'll be treading on far safer ground from here onward.
Under the watchful eyes of the Dragon Leviathan Nánfēng, we approached the shattered rear wall of the Lava Castle. A lifetime ago, I watched this same wall crumble away under the onslaught of massed Rock Punchers summoned by Father of Tides. Apparently, we have also been summoned.
As we entered the Sea Emperor's former prison, I was immediately struck by how radically this area has changed since our last fateful visit. The chamber's lava floor had solidified sometime over the last century, its fires no longer sustained by a constant upwelling of magma. The baleful red glare that illuminated the Emperor's personal Tartarus is long gone, replaced with a vibrant, peaceful environment full of light and colour more befitting that remarkable creature. I can only guess how this change was brought about, although I'm certain that his Warpers figured prominently in its creation. There are Bonesharks and Stalkers here, along with many food species normally found in shallow biomes. Remarkably, those predators have shown no interest in us, almost as if their instincts have been subdued by the presence of Father of Tides.
An undersea garden of Eden.
"Warm seas, Father of Tides." I signed respectfully. "It feeds These Ones to see you again."
"Warm seas, Father of Shells. You swim far. No Enemy here. All burn." The Emperor gestured.
"These ones come This Place for more knowing of Old Ones. We make sky-shell strong, we leave."
"This is good. Old Ones strong in knowing. Old Ones words weak in truth. Old Ones all die."
If I've interpreted this correctly, it sounds like yet another case of terminal hubris.
While conversing with Father of Tides, I realised that his gestures seemed noticeably slower and significantly less fluid than usual. Rather than skip lightly around the question foremost in my mind, I addressed my concerns as bluntly as possible. His shockingly blunt reply nearly floored me.
"Sick? No." Father of Tides signed, his slow-moving forelimbs seemed to whisper. "This One is ending. Many, many tides This One has swam. This One die soon."
"These Ones help Father of Tides? Make healing life-stuff for Father of Tides?"
"No. Too many tides too long gone. This One will die. New life sleeps in This Place." Father of Tides replied calmly, indicating a Precursor structure below us.
I see a low platform attached to some sort of mechanism. The platform carries five Sea Emperor eggs; all dormant, but apparently still viable.
"Old Ones not have knowing to wake these ones. Lost Ones from beyond-sky not wake these ones. You must wake them. This One cannot. Too many tides are gone."
Hell. We've grown extremely fond of Father of Tides over the years. Alien behemoth or no, this news hit us all like a solid punch to the guts. Héloise is openly sobbing her heart out. If I had the appropriate equipment installed, I would certainly be joining her. I can still experience grief, but find myself unable to express it.
There's only a hollow, aching void where my real feelings used to be.
Our grief is of little concern to Father of Tides. A closer examination of the Precursor machine has confirmed that it's an incubator of some kind. Like many Precursor devices, it's equipped with a standard ion power crystal receptacle. Powering it up poses no problem, although we're running a bit low on the wherewithal. Presumably, there might be more crystals to be found deeper inside this complex, but I'm reluctant to squander the couple we have left. I have no qualms about using one on this device, although it appears to need something more than a simple jolt of energy in order to function. A cylindrical flask is attached to the operating console, and I'm assuming that a chemical component is also required. Unfortunately, accessing the Precursor data terminal sheds no further light on the Sea Emperor incubation process, or exactly what chemical compounds are involved.
"New life sleeps. Life-stuff from This One gone. You make, Father of Shells. This One show. Look."
We watched in amazement as Father of Tides reached out with his mind, summoning various creatures into his presence. Each one arrived carrying a single fragment of plant material, unerringly homed in on the incubator platform, dropped its offering and swam away. When a lone Crabsquid entered the chamber, my internal HUD targeting system reflexively acquired it, at least until I noticed that it also carried a frond of deep-water growth. It dropped the plant matter onto the platform without even glancing in my direction, and then slowly swam away.
Father of Tides descended slowly, his immense form coming to rest barely two metres away from Gawain. I exited the ExoSuit cockpit, swimming over to him so that we can converse face to face. One last time. It seems most befitting to do him this courtesy of honour while he still draws breath.
"You have many knowings, Father of Shells. You have knowing to make bad waters clean, yes?"
"Yes. This One can." I admitted. "Waters of First Home above-sky gone bad. Nothing swims."
"You take many life from This Place. Make waters of First Home clean. Make new seeds of life."
At this point, you might be wondering precisely what species of plant those creatures were carrying. I can only tell you this... Keep wondering.
There are some secrets that can never be revealed.
Fabricating the hatching enzymes proved to be a fairly long-winded process. However, we are adequately prepared for almost every possible contingency that might arise during this mission. Our ExoSuits routinely carry sufficient raw materials and components to construct a temporary shelter base, and this wee bit of foresight has finally paid off. One multi-purpose room, a thermal power plant and a Fabricator later, I was able to produce a canister of enzymes on site. We're not ideally placed to bring in a Cyclops to use its onboard facilities, and I'll be damned if I have to slog all the way back to The Broch. More to the point, Father of Tides is rapidly running out of time.
"Good. Now you make Old One far-swim thing live."
Father of Tides gestured toward an inactive Precursor portal, almost entirely buried under a small mountain of sand. I groaned inwardly. That will take hours to clear, although we might be able to speed up the job by using our suit thrusters. Just as I was about to swim down and size up this daunting task, Father of Tides swung his ponderous head around and exhaled a powerful jet of water at the mound, completely scouring the portal platform clear in a matter of seconds. An elegant solution. An engineer's solution.
I wasted no time installing the ion power crystal. The portal flared, and I was pulled forward by a sudden inward surge as the water pressure equalised between both spatial connection points. Its exit is somewhere relatively shallow, judging by the strength and duration of that surge. I'd like to jump through and take a quick gander where this portal leads, but that side-trip is best left for later.
"New life swim free. Too far, too many talon hungry for new life. Far-swim thing keep them safe."
The way is now clear for Manannán's new Emperors. It's time for me to play my part as midwife.
The incubator accepted the enzyme canister's contents immediately. A holographic display flickered into life above the console, providing real-time data on each of the embryos as they stirred from centuries of dormancy. As this final gestation phase is an entirely automatic process, there's nothing else for me to do but wait and absorb a dizzying torrent of information. As it's safe enough in this chamber for Héloise and Enzo to leave their ExoSuits, everyone has gathered on the incubation platform to welcome the newborns.
It's a cold, hard 'Verse out there, and god-parents are a shoulder to lean on when the journey turns hard. Guess we'll do, at a pinch.
As the egg casings began to split, IANTO warned us to move well away from them. Fair comment. There's a possibility that the baby Emperors might accidentally 'imprint' on us, rather than Father of Tides. He should be the first thing they see, not us. Our new vantage point twenty metres away provided an excellent view of the platform, and effectively concealed us from the infant Emperors.
A few minutes later, all of the Emperors had struggled free of their egg cases. Each one experienced a brief moment of disorientation before swimming over to Father of Tides, so it turns out that IANTO was right on the money with his timely warning. Fine, strapping lads all, five metres in length.
The infants clustered around Father of Tides' face, their forelimbs and tentacles waving in silent communion. This touching scene only lasted a moment or two, then they all turned and headed straight for the portal. As the last one disappeared, we swam over to where Father of Tides lay. The gentle thunder of his respiration now fading with each passing breath. He gestured slowly as we approached.
"New life swims free. All is good. Father of Shells words swim true. New life takes my knowing. This One ends now. You go to place above now, take only knowings of Old Ones. Leave talons of Old Ones in This Place."
His face suddenly loomed closer. An unmistakable warning.
"Take only knowing of things, Father of Shells. Not take Old One talons. All will die."
Father of Tides passed away soon after those final words, peacefully surrendering himself to the way of all things. We floated in silent vigil before his dimming eyes, lest this noble Titan die alone and his final moments pass entirely unmarked by an otherwise indifferent Universe. A good death.
Whatever thoughts the others may have dwelt upon in his final moments, none seemed willing to share. For my part, the sadness that I feel will be impassively analysed, error-checked and filed away for future reference. There is nothing more to be done with it. I feel strangely helpless and incomplete. Aware of the pain, yet unable to speak of it plainly. The phantom ache of a long-gone amputated limb.
At this precise moment, I realised that I have become a half-finished, mechanical parody of humanity. Lip-service has been paid to all outward display of emotional expression, but I need far more than this shining body can offer. I desperately feel a need to cry again. Now, more than ever. All I ask is a pure, primal reflex-arc of sorrow or joy. Cold algorithms and precision capillary tubing will not be enough. I have no need of further camouflage. I still consider myself human, and I want... No. Need to remain as such, in spite of the elegant mechanisms that manifest this increasingly vague imitation of life.
When all is said and done, we are but ghosts in the shell.
Before our departure, I swam over to Father of Tides and gently laid my hand on his rugged forehead. In life, I would never dare show such impertinence, although it seemed a fitting gesture at this time.
"Your watch is over, Father of Tides. Go below and rest easy. Warm seas, old friend." I murmured.
We ascended in silence. Above us, an immense viewing platform hung suspended over the Sea Emperor's former prison. Beyond this structure, there is an even more immense moon pool. The Precursors must have observed their captive from this platform, somehow subduing his enormous body and winching it into the moon pool for closer study in a more confined space. As these pieces of information clicked together, I realised that Precursors may have shared at least one of humanity's defining traits other than insatiable curiosity. Cruelty appears to be a Universal constant.
Our ExoSuits jetted out of the water, landing on an elevated platform overlooking the moon pool. No apparent instrumentation or mechanisms anywhere in here, so it's a fair assumption that this part of the facility was designed purely for visual observation. I'm not sure how I would have reacted to the presence of any obvious surgical equipment in here, although its absence made me revise my estimation of Precursors slightly. If they were inclined to dabble in vivisection here, that would have torn it for me. The way I'm feeling right now, I would erase this place in a heartbeat. Still, it's best that we search the entire complex before I pronounce judgement on an extinct race.
A short corridor lay beyond the moon pool's sole doorway. As we advanced, concealed lighting panels lit up as we entered their detection field, illuminating the way ahead with their familiar green glow. As we stepped into the vast space beyond, Héloise gasped at the overwhelming immensity before her eyes. Without the slightest word of exaggeration, the sight we beheld was sufficiently impressive to stop everyone dead in their tracks. This place was fashioned on a truly Olympian scale. To give you a better idea of what we're looking at right now, one of the lesser Pyramids would fit quite comfortably inside this gigantic room... As a rather ostentatious designer accent piece.
Ironically, we can't tell another living soul about this discovery. Humanity must never know it exists.
Pandora's Box is real. We're currently standing inside it.
From the look of it, this open space also served the Precursors as a museum of sorts. However, there is something infinitely more enticing in here. Ion power crystals. An immense mechanism dominated the centre of this octagonal chamber, and at its heart lay a large neon-green crystalline matrix, pulsing with stored power. Just a few spare chunks would make this trip worthwhile. Every once in a while, one of the Precursor drones skittered up to the pedestal and carved off a cube with its particle-beam cutter, then scurried away with its cargo. Eventually, the crystal was completely mined out, and the device cycled to fabricate another chunk in its place. Rather than swoop in and grab as much as possible before one of the drones reacted to our presence, I observed this procedure until a regular pattern could be determined. Probably not the best idea to antagonise those drones unnecessarily. Their cutter beams can do a fair bit of damage, and I'd rather not activate any hidden security systems that this place might have.
Patience, laddie. Wait and observe.
"There's a five-minute interval between each drone's shift. Just enough time for each of us to mine two cubes and have the system replicate a new crystal core." I said. "Stand ready to move in."
Our snatch-and-bolt operation proceeded smoothly. As soon as the worker drone clattered out of sight, we moved in quickly and harvested the ion crystals. The replication process dutifully cycled about halfway through our retreat, but we were already well in the clear. As long as we are nowhere near their work site when they return, the drones will probably continue to ignore us.
"Captain, are you sure only twelve cubes is enough?" Enzo asked. "I've still got plenty of spare cargo space in my suit. I could go back and mine some more, if you want."
"Nay, lad." I grinned. "It's plain you've never heard the yarn of the Golden Goose. We've got more than enough for our purposes. Some will be of immediate use in here, but more importantly, we'll have a few spares to tinker with. I aim to figure out the go of them, with an eye to making more."
Next, we turned our attention to the first row of display cases. Two rows of six Precursor stasis boxes lined the room, flanking the facility's ion crystal fabricator. A fond memory of school excursions surfaces, undoubtedly triggered by the cavernous space surrounding us. Time for Teacher's Speech.
"Before we start, I want to make one thing perfectly clear... Touch nothing. If there's anything in here that warranted a final warning from Father of Tides, there's probably a good reason why. Furthermore, as far as humanity is concerned, this facility does not exist. All mission data beyond this point is to be partitioned under MAXSEC protocol, Borealis command crew eyes only. Base point for recursive event data encryption, the Lava Corridor entrance." I took a deep breath, already dreading what we might find in here. "All personnel, execute MAXSEC protocol."
The display cases are made of an unknown transparent material. Spectroscopic analysis reveals that this substance has metallic properties, although its optical clarity far surpasses anything that we can currently manufacture. Transparent aluminium doesn't even come close to it. One thing is certain, the Precursors took considerable pains to prevent any further access to these items. These items have been physically encapsulated, locked away for eternity. Reliquaries of forbidden knowledge; fully visible, but eternally inaccessible. Somewhere in here, we may even find the secret that toppled the Precursors from their lofty perch.
It's an eclectic selection in here. There is no common theme that binds these disparate elements together. Some items are entirely functional and comfortingly mundane in their uses, others are strikingly beautiful for their artistic simplicity. The remainder were shaped to a far darker purpose.
Comments
It's great to see everyone pitching in like this. The Carl Sagan party were at the forefront, carving up fallen celery trees, lantern trees and bulbos with laser cutters, stacking the trimmed sections in neat piles for later removal. Others carried away bag-loads of storm-flayed undergrowth, slowly but surely increasing the cleared space forming around the colony's surface buildings. I signalled the crew to dismount and continue on foot. ExoSuits and pedestrians are generally an unhealthy mix of traffic, and that goes double for Ripleys. It looks like matters are nicely in hand here anyway.
The general mood here seems surprisingly light-hearted. It feels more like a working-bee on a neighbour's farm than the aftermath of a natural disaster. I guess that a bit of honest physical labour sits well with our guests. Some pragmatic folks might even consider this effort more mentally stimulating than cranking dead weights and pounding away on treadmills to nowhere. That's fine by me, although I can't see storm cleanup being a hot ticket item as one of The Last Resort's regular recreational activities. Even so, with roughly nine months of severe weather still ahead of us, it might be worth up-selling this idea to our future guests. I'm kidding, of course.
All things considered, we've been extremely fortunate after the first serious blow of the cyclone season. No deaths, no reported casualties and an acceptable level of damage inflicted on the facilities here. This is the best possible outcome, at least as far as I'm concerned.
I found Héloise standing ankle-deep in a swampy hollow, carving up a fallen stand of celery trees. She appeared to be enjoying herself immensely, if the saucy ditty she sang was any indication. Héloise waved cheerfully as I approached, then carried on hurling metre-long sections of trunk aside without giving too much of a damn where they landed.
Hmm. This might not be an ideal time to lecture her on physical exercises more suited to her 'delicate condition'.
"Bonjour, mam'selle. I must say ye're looking particularly radiant today." I said, bowing gallantly.
"Kiss-arse." Héloise snorted, wiping her mud-speckled face with a sweat rag. "Hoy, got any water?"
"Sure, catch." I under-armed a litre of purified water to her. She caught it effortlessly, unscrewed the stopper, and took a long drink. "Can't stay for too long, Love. We're heading out to fix the west quadrant hab domes soon, and I wanted to catch up with ye first."
"I see." Héloise said quietly. "Is there something about this job you're not telling me?"
"Nothing particularly ominous, at any rate." I grinned. "We haven't had much time to ourselves lately, and I just wanted to see you again, that's all."
I waded into the shallow pool and wrapped my arms gently about her for a long-overdue cuddle. "It's going to get better, Lass. I swear it."
Héloise smiled ruefully. "I really hope so. I want to leave this planet so much, it's almost madness... Why is it taking so long?" Her fists pounded my chest in frustration.
"Merde!... J'ai envie de crier!"
For the time being, we've decided to focus our attention on those Precursor facilities. Work on the Borealis has been stepped up to account for lost construction time during the cyclone, although it's more a case of working her into a habitable condition as quickly as possible. In fact, she weathered the storm magnificently, convincing me that the ship would serve as an ideal base of operations after its initial fit-out. Life aboard might seem a bit rough and ready at first, although the colonists would soon have access to vastly improved living conditions. Even more importantly, there will be functional shipboard systems that can be used to train our colonial volunteers, and that will shave months off our pre-flight preparation time. If Borealis is ready to launch before the phase gate is assembled and fully operational, there's no reason why we can't use that spare time to give her an absolutely thorough shakedown cruise before finally committing ourselves to The Black.
After breakfast, we assembled at the cave mouth. Time for a wee spot of spelunking. Our basic plan is to check out the cave on Kaori-san no-shima first, then move on to explore as many known Precursor facilities as possible. Until now, we have maintained a 'look, but don't touch' approach to these sites, mainly because there were other unfortunate events popping off in the background. Terribly inconvenient for anyone with an inquiring mind, I must say.
This time, we are loaded for bear. We're treating this expedition as our last hurrah, one final adventure before we have to knuckle down to the serious business of leaving Manannán. Naturally, Héloise and Enzo begged to come along. I advised otherwise, but they wouldn't hear a word of it. Apparently, their shared experience at the Quarantine Enforcement Platform wasn't quite nasty enough to dissuade them from taking another jolly stroll through Precursor territory. Fine.
At least I bothered to warn them.
The opening had formed ten metres above the cavern floor, making it necessary to abseil down with our ExoSuit grappling lines. I descended first, scanning the landing zone with GPR before touching down. Readings indicated that the ground could safely support the combined mass of our suits, although it would be necessary to scan the path ahead before proceeding across any of the natural arches that lay deeper in the cavern. There is a clearly-defined pathway running through this place, although I couldn't detect any signs that it had been used. No footprints or any visible scuffing of the soil. Just a bare, scraped path completely devoid of any vegetation. Extremely curious.
Motion ahead. Multiple targets. Sensor readings are inconclusive, although the closest possible match suggests that a few Cave Crawlers might be scuttling around down here. Not a huge surprise. Naturally, my abiding love of those wee buggers has not diminished with the passage of time. Repulsion cannons, hot. Safeties off.
I'm feeling particularly creative today.
We'll give these wee chaps a sensibly wide berth from now on. As long as we don't bollocks up anything down here, I conjure we'll be safe enough. We passed through those mechs without incident, following the path as it led deeper into the cavern. Like most other caverns on Manannán, this one was softly lit by a variety of bioluminescent plants, creating the sort of Fairyland that could lure its fair share of wide-eyed innocents into thinking that all was sweetness and light down here. A quick trip through the Valkyrie Field would soon convince them otherwise. Once we've finished poking around, I'll have to secure this cavern's entrances against unauthorised entry. We're extremely lucky that we found this place before one of the colonists or Carl Sagan's visitors.
A Precursor portal arch dominated the central cavern. As we mounted the archway's massive support platform, a control pedestal rose silently from the facility's ornate floor. A small box on top of the pedestal opened, revealing an aperture apparently designed to accept a Precursor ion power crystal. We had acquired two of these crystals during our last expedition to the gun emplacement on Pyramid Rock, along with three of those cumbersome purple key artifacts. It would have been pointless to plan any serious exploration of Precursor sites without having them on hand. DIGBY retrieved one of the crystals from his suit's external storage locker and stood beside the pedestal.
"Everyone stand well clear of this thing, just in case." I cautioned. "There could be an energy discharge from the portal when the system activates. All clear? Good. Okay, DIGBY... Fire it up."
"Aye, Sir." DIGBY installed the crystal in the pedestal. The portal's hidden mechanisms emitted a low-pitched hum as the device powered up. Nothing happened for a couple of seconds, then the portal erupted in a soundless flare of intense green light that turned the phototropic coating on our ExoSuit canopies a completely opaque black for five seconds.
Who needs peril-sensitive sunglasses?
"That was impressive, to say the least." I said shakily. "Since we're working on my assumption that this is a Precursor version of a chaapa'ai, and not an elaborate waste-disposal system... I'll go first."
"Is that wise, Captain?" JUNO asked earnestly.
"Not even remotely Lass, but I'm going first anyway. I would'na send anyone where I wasn't willing to go myself. Besides, if something does go wrong, it's best that it only happens to one of us. Wait for my signal, and proceed through the portal one at a time. Await confirmation of a safe arrival before entering. By the bye, here's some ominous thoughts to consider... Hopefully, that ion crystal isn't a one-shot deal, and I won't end up stranded somewhere that's inaccessible from the surface."
I sketched a salute with my ExoSuit's right arm. "That's it, troops. I'll see you all on the other side."
I stepped toward the shimmering green energy field. Although it was tempting to reach out and contemplatively touch the field's rippling water-like surface before stepping through, this sort of thing has never struck me as a particularly intelligent move. Seems like a good way of losing one's hand, particularly as this device might have no way of telling if there are supposed to be any other bits attached. I'll treat this as a practical exercise in temporal-spatial engineering, thanks very much.
I'm in another cavern, although this one looks rather familiar. Sure enough, there are fresh ExoSuit footprints in the sandy soil that surrounds the portal platform. Positional data obtained from three nearby nav beacons confirms my new location as Pyramid Rock, and this is obviously the upper cavern that we found earlier. Apart from this portal, there's nothing much to see in here. The really interesting stuff is in the Precursor gun platform below.
"I wound up on Pyramid Rock. How's the portal holding up on your end, JUNO?"
"It's still operating, Sir. Energy readings are stable. Awaiting your clearance to proceed." JUNO said.
"Hang on a sec. I'll see whether it's possible to return using the same portal. Stand by."
Apparently so.
After a subjective transit time of 15 seconds, I found myself back on Kaori-san no-shima. There is definitely something very odd happening here, as the actual elapsed time between entering and exiting the portal amounted to a mere handful of picoseconds. As near as dammit to an instantaneous transfer time, in fact. My internal chronometer says otherwise. It's not a huge discrepancy in time, but just enough to irritate the finely-tuned sensibilities of an engineer. I'm guessing that there's some temporal jiggery-pokery going on at the quantum level, although I'll need to gather more data before I can figure out exactly what's going on. For what it's worth, I shared these observations with the crew.
Apart from that weird time-dilation effect, the Precursor teleport system seems straightforward enough. Its operating principles are roughly the same as those applied to a phase gate, with the sensible exception that users don't have to be travelling at light-speed to pass through it. I'd call that a major kindness.
Although it's theoretically possible to teleport at 'walking pace', it can only be done if absolutely stable points of reference have been established between transmission and receiving stations. Since space-based phase gates are constantly in motion, they naturally abide by a far more complex set of physical rules. The principle of 'absolute positioning' might explain how Kaori-san no-shima was able stay in place during the cyclone. All that's needed is some sort of gravity anchor... And a huge amount of power.
Jackpot. After travelling through the second teleport inside Pyramid Rock's gun emplacement, we found ourselves figuratively transported to Hell's waiting-room.
Actually, it's a Precursor geothermal power station, albeit one rendered on a scale that beggars human imagination. Rather than sink a deep borehole and draw power from it using liquid heat exchangers, the Precursors went straight to the point and suspended this facility directly above an active lava vent. Our scans have determined that this power plant exploits the Seebeck Thermoelectric Effect to a phenomenal degree, generating electrical current from heat applied to the junction of two dissimilar conductive metals. Rather than containing devices we'd recognise as generators, this entire facility is a generator in itself. As always, the exact composition of those Precursor alloys defies any detailed analysis, so it's going to be a fair old while before this level of technology finds its way into Terran hands. Still, I'm happy to learn all we can from this place and run with it.
Who knows? We might get lucky.
After a thorough analysis of the power plant's staggering inner workings, we discovered an example of Precursor technology that eclipses everything else we've seen so far.
And I do mean Everything.
I'm standing in a doorway that leads directly into the magma chamber surrounding this facility. The only thing separating me from billions of tonnes of Manannán's seawater is a one-molecule thick wall of water.
Here's the truly amazing part: I can push my hand straight through it.
I'm still working on some of the fine details, although I conjure that I now have this marvel of Precursor technology gripped firmly by its short and curlies. This monomolecular layer of water is held in place between two planar probability fields. The fields are synchronised to oscillate between charge states, effectively turning the trapped film of seawater into a non-Newtonian fluid. If a body is moving slowly enough, it will pass through this field without encountering any appreciable resistance. I've already tested this effect by passing my hand through the barrier at different speeds. The sensation is exactly like dipping your hand slowly into a thick solution of cornflour and water. However, if you ran straight at this barrier, there's a fair chance that you'll end up bouncing off it with one hell of a thump. Or you might disintegrate on impact. Reckon I'll give that one a miss. There's a limit as to how far I'll go in order to test this hypothesis.
Simply stated, the slow blade penetrates. A couple of billion tonnes of seawater doesn't stand a snowball's chance in here. There's simply too much potential energy working against this field. The harder the push, the greater the resistance that will be encountered. A truly remarkable example of Clarke's Law.
Further investigation of the power plant revealed a couple of the Precursor key artifacts and a data terminal. JUNO's currently decrypting the downloaded archive material, and there's more than enough technical information to keep all of us profitably occupied for the next half-century or so.
"Where to next, JUNO?" I asked. "Since there's no second teleport station here, we'll have to leg it."
"The Lava Castle, apparently. These files refer to the structure as the 'primary containment facility'."
I snorted in disgust. "Ah, hell. I thought we'd seen the last of that place... Okay, where away?"
JUNO projected a schematic of the magma chamber, indicating a concealed passage leading south.
"Down there, Sir. Distance to facility, approximately two kilometres through an inactive lava zone."
"Well, that sounds like a tonne of fun." I griped. "It's a good thing our suits can take a bit of heat."
We set off in standard patrol formation. Our initial descent from the power plant wasn't what I'd call a pleasant experience, as the churning mass of lava directly below provided an excellent incentive to be careful. If anyone did fall into the lava, we'd have less than ten seconds to rescue them. Héloise and Enzo performed superbly, rappelling, grappling and free-falling like skilled acrobats as we worked our way down to the passage. As soon as we reached solid ground, I made a point of checking their lifesigns to decide whether or not to abort this mission. Their ExoSuit life support systems will keep their bodies at a sensible temperature, although I'm more concerned about their increasing stress levels at the moment. This is not the safest place for either of them.
To be perfectly blunt, Héloise and Enzo are showing signs of an incipient case of the jitters, even though they're unwilling to admit it. There's no point to either of them putting a brave face on it, particularly when I can read anyone's physiological state just by looking at them. I called an immediate halt to give them some time to wind down, rather than push on without a thought for their mental states. Even though Héloise prefers to zip her lip and soldier on, she has to acknowledge her limitations in a situation like this. I admire her tenacity, but there's no easy way of telling this to a woman who took a Thermoblade to a rampaging Onos and necked it. Enzo's basically still a kid, so we can't push him too hard. It's best for all concerned to take a breather while we still can. My gut feeling tells me there's more than lava waiting for us ahead.
Since we've never approached the Lava Castle from this direction before, I have absolutely no idea of what to expect further on. It's a wretched, cheerless place, as far removed from sunlight and open skies as no sane person would ever want to be. My depth gauge reads 1,382 metres and Gawain's external hull temperature is a toasty 65 degrees Celsius. If it wasn't for the presence of convection currents drawing cooler surface water through this corridor, we'd all be feeling more than a mite uncomfortable about now. As long as we maintain a safe distance from the river of lava winding through this passage, we should be fine. Naturally, the thermal power converters in our suits are making excellent use of this heat, keeping our reserve power cells nicely topped up. It would be the height of stupidity to rely solely on an ExoSuit's internal reactor at this depth, and while a pair of standard power cells probably wouldn't hold quite enough juice to reach the surface, you might be able to pull over somewhere slightly less hostile and drop in some fresh replacements.
Surprisingly, there's a remarkable abundance of life down here. Ambient temperatures are even higher than those we've encountered around deep hydrothermal vents, although some creatures have adapted to cope with the extreme heat and scarce nutrient levels. Some browse on the thin biofilm secreted by single-celled organisms growing in the cooler upper reaches of this corridor, while others feed upon the browsers. There are even extremophile versions of familiar shallow-water species such as the Boomerang and Eyeye, and a thermophilic subspecies of the Ghost Ray. Haven't seen a single Rock Puncher in a fair while, although there's ample evidence that they're around here somewhere. The basalt walls are riddled with their tunnels. I suspect that they're keen to keep their distance, particularly after our last encounter. Given a Rock Puncher's outstanding potential for unbridled havoc when they're riled, that's fine by me.
Acoustics indicate a sizeable pack of Lava Lizards ahead. I'd rather not tangle with them at the moment. If we can sneak through their territory without stirring them up, I'd consider that an acceptable outcome. No unnecessary entanglements, if at all possible. We're all in the hazard here.
"Silent running. Blacklight rig. Switch to infra-red, passive sonar video overlay." I murmured.
Our lights went dead. The lava river had diminished to a mere rivulet, casting its sullen red glare on the lower extremities of our ExoSuits. If our surroundings seemed miserable and foreboding before, they became absolutely infernal once the lights went out. We slip between shadows like fleeting wraiths, moving as silently as our ExoSuits will permit. No sudden movements, each step taken deliberately and placed without rhythm, blending into the muted soundscape of this Stygian place. We communicate with terse written phrases, lest the sound of our voices carry to unfriendly ears.
For a while there, I actually thought we could brazen our way through this area without incident. No such luck. IANTO reported a malfunction in Galahad's power management system a couple of minutes ago, and we've withdrawn to a small side chamber to figure out what's wrong. Level Two diagnostics confirm the presence of a slow but steady power drain, but could not pinpoint the source. My first guess is a thermal insulation failure on his suit's main wiring bus.
Not good at all.
I opened Gawain's hatch and swam out. Thankfully, the water temperature had dropped significantly as we moved farther away from the lava river. This area is a tolerable 18 degrees Celsius, so I won't have to worry about needing a re-skin after this mission. My polymer skin can handle temperatures up to 220 degrees, then nasty things start happening to the bits underneath. I unclipped the hand scanner from my harness and swam around Galahad. Nothing out of the ordinary so far. No loose panels or exposed cables. No obvious signs of physical damage. Nothing for it but to give the ExoSuit a thorough eyeballing; remote scanning doesn't tell me a gorram thing.
I almost missed it. There's something attached to Galahad's back, nestled tightly beneath the suit's power cell fairing. It's alive, and it appears to be feeding off the power grid. The creature is slug-like, about 300 millimetres long. Its dull violet skin is segmented into large scales, rather like a trilobite in its appearance. Its head has two stubby horns and tiny orange-rimmed eyes, which I suspect might be vestigial, considering the lousy ambient light levels down here. Can't see its mouth parts properly yet, so I'll attempt to pry it loose with a knife.
Jings! It's like trying to pull a pair of rare-earth magnets apart. I can't risk using a propulsion cannon with all those lava lizards nearby. Its concussion would get their attention in short order. There's nothing for it, my power-hungry little friend. Knife time. Best make your peace with Father of Tides.
"Power levels have stabilised, Captain." IANTO said. "As far as I'm able to determine, this organism drains electromagnetic energy from various sources by an induction process, diverting some of the energy to power an organic magnet surrounding an otherwise non-functional oral structure. Similar colouration around its atrophied eyes indicates that the creature uses a highly accurate version of electrosensing, rather than visual input. It's an extremely subtle and efficient parasite, Sir."
"I'll say it's bloody subtle. It doesn't show up on any of our EM sensors at all." I agreed. "Reckon it might emit a damping field of some kind? Something that masks its presence while it's feeding?"
"Insufficient data, Captain. I'll have to dissect one to determine the full capabilities of this species." IANTO replied. "Please place that specimen in a bio-sample container, Sir. I'll examine it later."
I'm simultaneously intrigued and deeply concerned by these wee beasties. One of them constitutes a minor nuisance. A shoal of them could bleed an ExoSuit dry in minutes. I'm unsure how they would affect an android, if at all... Our internal systems are EM-shielded of course, partly for stealth, but mainly because we're specifically designed for space travel. If it wasn't for the Faraday cages embedded in our synthetic skins, one decent solar flare would be quite enough to ruin our day. Permanently.
My brief examination of that 'Lava Larva' suggests that it might be possible to artificially reproduce some of its more remarkable traits. A number of Manannán's other life forms have a natural ability to metabolise metals or produce 'bio-alloys' for various survival applications. Tough dermal armour, electrical field generation, self-contained warp fields and so forth. I'm guessing that we can make some serious use of similar abilities once we return to Terra.
As a precaution, I checked all of our ExoSuits thoroughly. This has been an unpleasant wake-up call.
"Okay troops. Looks like we're all in the clear. Watch your power usage, particularly when we get close to the lava again. One more thing... Check your offsider's suit for those nasty wee buggers. We can't risk having a dead suit when we're this far down."
"Nothing for it. We'll have to run the gauntlet." I said. "Set for neutral buoyancy cruise mode and stay low. With any luck, the lava's glare should mask our presence."
We set off in staggered single-file formation, using the islets as waypoints. Each time we touched down, there was a brief halt as we dusted off any Lava Larvae that had attached themselves to our ExoSuits during the crossing. It went smoothly for a short while, although the infestations became increasingly frequent as we neared the centre of the cavern. It quickly dawned on me that our humane 'catch and release' strategy wasn't working at all, and a more permanent solution to the Lava Larva problem had to be found.
Halfway to the next waypoint, everything went straight to hell. A shoal of Lava Larvae swarmed us, their numbers considerably swollen by those we had removed earlier. As an aside, it's worth mentioning that I have never seriously considered fabricating a knife suitable for use in an ExoSuit's manipulators, or fitting bayonets to our Gauss cannons. At the time, it seemed like attaching a spear to the nosecone of a cruise missile. A patently absurd notion, but one that would have saved us no end of trouble farther down the track. This is the precise point in time where that casual oversight came home to roost.
This is rapidly developing into a desperate situation. Even though our suit thermal converters are receiving a fair whack of energy, they can't keep up with the drain rate. Any suit with more than five larvae attached is fighting a losing battle. No doubt about it. As soon as its reserve cells are depleted, the larvae will be feeding directly from the reactor output of each suit. Worse still, they are truly voracious feeders. As soon as one gorges its fill, it drops off and the recently vacated feeding site is quickly occupied by another.
At first, we tried catching and crushing them with our suit manipulators, although this merely accelerated the energy drain rate. Apart from being time consuming and ultimately pointless, this tactic has other serious drawbacks. The body fluids of Larva Larvae are a highly corrosive electrolyte solution, and it's starting to damage our suits. Furthermore, our wee scuffle has attracted the attention of a pack of Lava Lizards. Things are about to get rather more interesting.
They circled us warily at first, unsure of what to make of our ExoSuits. Easy meat or a threat? We deployed in a defensive circle on the tiny rock outcrop, each one of us standing only a few metres away from the slowly heaving lake of lava. As last stands go, I feel that we've unwittingly selected a truly epic location. However, any heroic end worthy of saga and song requires at least one witness, and I notice that spectators are in short supply down here.
Oh aye, we're history either way. Let's do this.
Stasis fields worked for a while, but the Lava Lizards caught on in fairly short order. It only took them a couple of failed attempts to figure out what was happening, and then they kept their distance accordingly. Worse still, the field seems to attract Lava Larvae like a dinner-bell. We're having to divide our efforts between dispatching those nasty Joule-sucking grubs and fending off Lava Lizards in the meantime, and that strikes me as a definite no-win situation. In effect, we have blundered into a Mexican standoff, and there isn't a gorram thing any of us can do about it.
"Got one!" Héloise whooped. "Smashed it straight into the lava!"
Sure enough, there's a slightly darker patch about forty metres out. That's one less to deal with. We might be able to win this one after all. Suddenly, something surged out of the lava, heading straight for Héloise. I swivelled Gawain's torso, bringing both repulsion cannons to bear on the object. The suit's targeting system flashed up 'Organic: Lava Lizard'.
What the hell?
"Héloise! Look out!" I yelled, opening fire. The graviton pulses hit, hurling the creature sideways. Instead of hanging limply, stunned by the concussion, the Lava Lizard cart-wheeled through the water, its limbs flailing wildly. By all rights, that shot should have knocked the stuffing out of it.
This one is all too obviously compos mentis, and from what I can gather, it's extremely pissed off. With a shrieking roar, it dived straight into the inferno below and almost instantly, emerged sheathed in a shell of rapidly cooling lava. No wonder it survived after Héloise shot it down. Extreme heat tolerance, and then some. Maybe IANTO has some ideas how...
"BLOODY HELL!"
I barely had time to register the lava projectiles it spat at me, deflecting them at the very last second. The Lava Lizard shrieked again, a curiously clipped sound, unlike any vocalization I've heard so far. Some sort of command? To my horror, the others reacted instantly, diving into the lava and emerging clad in similar shells of basalt armour. The entire pack charged at us from all sides, spitting balls of partially-cooled lava as they came. They now have body armour and projectile weapons.
Yes, it was an insanely bad idea to come down here. Thanks for reminding me, Captain Obvious.
After fifteen minutes of sheer pandemonium, the Lava Lizards backed off and resumed circling us. We got lucky with a couple that we were able to trap in our graviton beams. These careless ones were quickly slammed into the deck at point-blank range. I'm pleased to say they won't be bothering us anymore. However, we aren't entirely unscathed. DIGBY's suit Percival caught a couple of solid hits. Lava fragments have seized up its left leg and hip actuators, and we're in no position to repair the damage. The water temperature around this rock is 437 Celsius, and that's enough to turn any one of us into a crispy critter. JUNO says it will be an hour before Taranis and Aegis can reach us for fire support and a very hot extraction. We're rapidly running out of options here, and I'm beginning to suspect that we've finally bitten off more than we can comfortably chew.
They're eminently capable opponents, perfectly suited to this hellish biome. Tough skinned even without their stone armour, and they're extremely agile swimmers. Damn cunning hunters, too. They appear to be analysing our every move, waiting to exploit any momentary flaw in our defences. Give me the pitiless brutality of the Kharaa anytime. At least they can be killed entirely without compunction, and in that observation, there's the rub. The very heart of our problem here. We can't simply slaughter everything that stands in our way, although our assailants are doing their level best to make me regret that decision. All they have to do is keep wearing us down, and they're doing a mighty fine job of it so far. Their last sortie dealt some serious damage to Guinevere and Morrigan, which means we're down to three ExoSuits still capable of operating at full capacity.
"Warning. Energy cell depletion is now at critical level. Warning. Parasite activity detected."
Gorram it. That's another thing. The harder we try to fend off the Lava Lizards, the more interesting we become to the Lava Larvae. We're being double-teamed here, and it probably won't end well.
I picked off a browsing Lava Larva with a graviton snare, punting it spitefully at a circling Lava Lizard.
"Hope ye choke on it, ye dirty scunner." I muttered sourly.
The larva smacked into the Lava Lizard's armoured flank, exploding in a small cloud of blood. Hardly a telling blow, but one that triggered an unexpected response. The creature suddenly twisted, wheeled about in its own length and began snapping excitedly at drifting particles of Lava Larva. Hmm... Interesting.
I activated comms. "Change of plan, troops. We're gonna make a tactical withdrawal. Forwards."
Naturally, this statement raised some concerns among the crew. After a hasty explanation of my idea, we formed up back to back in two ranks of three, with our damaged suits at the rear. Centurion, Gawain and Lancelot were set to be the vanguard of this daring retreat, our rearguard serving as ammunition feeders. It's a hare-brained scheme, but it might just work. Fingers crossed.
"Everyone ready to go? Snare yeselves a grub and let fly!"
Our first salvo got their attention, all right. I'd been labouring under an impression that the Lava Lizards have a personal beef with us. Not so. Turns out they were far more interested in the Lava Larvae that we've been attracting, and they saw us as potential rivals for their preferred food source. Might as well wear a live Peeper bikini and go swimming with Stalkers. Same thing, apparently.
Only another 220 metres to go. As far as we know, all of our suits are now grub-free. Power levels are building up slowly once more, and our plucky wee band now has a ravenous pack of Lava Lizards in tow. In fact, I feel slightly ridiculous at the moment. Instead of making our Heroic Last Stand, we've come down to a bunch of zoo keepers feeding stroppy sea-lions at an aquarium. I'll bet they don't use propulsion cannons at SeaWorld, although Terran seals don't spit lava, so it all evens out in the end. Some might see this as an anticlimax, but it beats the alternative ending by a long chalk.
Eventually, we found ourselves alone again. As soon as the Lava Lizards realised that no more free food was coming their way, they deserted us without even bothering to look back. Fickle buggers. This part of the corridor is much cooler, so we were able to repair our damaged suits and remotely survey the terrain in the huge cavern ahead. No more nasty surprises today.
Here be dragons.
Three broad rivers of lava flow around this tiny outcrop of rock, falling slowly into the depths below. I've named this natural feature 'Falls of Phlegethon', with a definite tip of the hat to Dante Alighieri. It's a scene straight out of The Divine Comedy, save that there's no legions of Hell or souls of the damned to contend with down here. Instead of the infernal City of Dis, the brooding ebony spires of the Lava Castle rise abruptly from the centre of an immense lava lake that formed a hundred or so metres below the Falls. I've never held to any notion that there's a Heaven and Hell, although this awe-inspiring vista is a fair replica of what it takes to keep some folks on the straight and narrow. Having blundered through The Veil on several occasions, I assure you that there's nothing like this waiting for you on the other side. Absolutely nothing, in fact. Once through that final door, sinners and saints are served alike in equal measure, and this strikes me as a reasonable conclusion to one's life. It would take some mighty persuasive speech from any Shepherd to convince me otherwise.
Same tactics as before. There's an abundance of Lava Lizards and Lava Larvae in this area, so we're going to play one species against another once more. As we made repairs earlier, IANTO suggested recalibrating our ExoSuit EM sensors to detect tiny 'dead zones' moving around in the overwhelming thermal background noise of the lava zones, allowing us to intercept and repel any approaching Lava Larvae before they could work any mischief. With the Lava Lizards thus occupied, our transit of the area proceeded more or less uneventfully. Running point 20 metres ahead of the main formation, Guinevere suddenly extended its right arm overhead, silently signalling an immediate halt.
"Captain, acoustic transient detected ahead. Dragon Leviathan, subject coded as Nánfēng." JUNO said. "Range, three hundred metres. Its motion pattern remains unchanged. Your orders, Sir?"
"If she's down here, Father of Tides probably won't be too far away." I mused. "Likewise, her sisters will also be somewhere close by. Mind now, these Dragons might not take kindly to us turning up here uninvited, so we'll have to be on our very best behaviour. A stealthy retreat may be required."
I'm seriously considering pulling the plug on this safari. Dragon Leviathans are touchy at the best of times, and I suspect that Nánfēng would become openly aggressive to our presence, particularly without the moderating influence of Father of Tides at hand. Rather than presume on any slim acquaintance that we might share, we'll have to give this area a wide berth and avoid approaching the Lava Castle, at least from this side. We should be able to slip past Nánfēng and make our exit through the eastern ILZ corridor unchallenged, but that's basically all she wrote for this expedition. Not a great deal to show for our efforts so far, either. A bitterly disappointing outcome.
Nánfēng certainly knows we're here. She's following our every move now. Her message is clear. Come no closer.
At least we've finally found where Father of Tides takes his ease, although this discovery is entirely unintentional. We'll slip away discreetly, although I'm not entirely certain how one does this without looking suspicious. As soon as we have a firm nav solution for the entrance to the eastern ILZ corridor, we are most definitely leaving.
A sudden energy spike on the HUD overlay. There's a vortex forming 10 metres ahead. Warper.
The creature materialised abruptly, barring our way. "Lost Ones not come (to) This Place." It signed emphatically. "Father of Tides break Lost Ones shell. All die. Go now."
*Ahem*
Holy crap this story is famous
Ever read the prequel?
"Héloise, Enzo... Stand down." I murmured. "That's nae a statement of fact. A warning, is all."
Gawain stepped forward, its holo-emitters flaring into life. My Warper avatar materialised, its outline rippling in the thermal convection currents swirling in the water around us.
"Warm seas, friend. These ones mean no harm." My hologram gestured.
My response seemed to confuse the Warper momentarily.
The colouring of its mantle strobed for a few seconds, an obvious sign of its uncertainty. Its talons lowered, then waved in respectful reply.
"You are Father of Shells." It signed gracefully. "Forgive. This one not know."
"Lost Ones swim with Father of Tides. Father of Shells swims with Father of Tides."
"This is known now. Forgive. This one is made new. Still things to know. " The Warper admitted.
Ah. We're dealing with a new recruit. Having never seen the like of us before, it probably had to check our credentials with the Orderly Room, or something like that. Simplest explanation, no-one Upstairs forwarded the memo regarding our status as trusted allies. However, I'd have to say it's more a case of this Warper encountering a pair of increasingly spooked human minds and reacting accordingly. Warpers can't read androids, although this doesn't seem to be an issue for them. As long as our actions precisely reflect what we say to them, we give the Warpers no cause to distrust our psychically opaque minds.
Conversely, the average human psyche has all manner of disturbing stuff lurking in the subconscious mind, making it difficult for Readers to reconcile any face-to-face communication with the turmoil of suppressed emotions just beyond the grasp of rational thought. Héloise and Enzo must have been broadcasting their collective fears at full power without realising it. Given our current circumstances, I blame neither of them. No human mind could pass though this nightmare realm entirely unscathed. With any luck, we'll be treading on far safer ground from here onward.
Under the watchful eyes of the Dragon Leviathan Nánfēng, we approached the shattered rear wall of the Lava Castle. A lifetime ago, I watched this same wall crumble away under the onslaught of massed Rock Punchers summoned by Father of Tides. Apparently, we have also been summoned.
As we entered the Sea Emperor's former prison, I was immediately struck by how radically this area has changed since our last fateful visit. The chamber's lava floor had solidified sometime over the last century, its fires no longer sustained by a constant upwelling of magma. The baleful red glare that illuminated the Emperor's personal Tartarus is long gone, replaced with a vibrant, peaceful environment full of light and colour more befitting that remarkable creature. I can only guess how this change was brought about, although I'm certain that his Warpers figured prominently in its creation. There are Bonesharks and Stalkers here, along with many food species normally found in shallow biomes. Remarkably, those predators have shown no interest in us, almost as if their instincts have been subdued by the presence of Father of Tides.
An undersea garden of Eden.
"Warm seas, Father of Tides." I signed respectfully. "It feeds These Ones to see you again."
"Warm seas, Father of Shells. You swim far. No Enemy here. All burn." The Emperor gestured.
"These ones come This Place for more knowing of Old Ones. We make sky-shell strong, we leave."
"This is good. Old Ones strong in knowing. Old Ones words weak in truth. Old Ones all die."
If I've interpreted this correctly, it sounds like yet another case of terminal hubris.
Nothing changes.
"Sick? No." Father of Tides signed, his slow-moving forelimbs seemed to whisper. "This One is ending. Many, many tides This One has swam. This One die soon."
"These Ones help Father of Tides? Make healing life-stuff for Father of Tides?"
"No. Too many tides too long gone. This One will die. New life sleeps in This Place." Father of Tides replied calmly, indicating a Precursor structure below us.
I see a low platform attached to some sort of mechanism. The platform carries five Sea Emperor eggs; all dormant, but apparently still viable.
"Old Ones not have knowing to wake these ones. Lost Ones from beyond-sky not wake these ones. You must wake them. This One cannot. Too many tides are gone."
Hell. We've grown extremely fond of Father of Tides over the years. Alien behemoth or no, this news hit us all like a solid punch to the guts. Héloise is openly sobbing her heart out. If I had the appropriate equipment installed, I would certainly be joining her. I can still experience grief, but find myself unable to express it.
There's only a hollow, aching void where my real feelings used to be.
Our grief is of little concern to Father of Tides. A closer examination of the Precursor machine has confirmed that it's an incubator of some kind. Like many Precursor devices, it's equipped with a standard ion power crystal receptacle. Powering it up poses no problem, although we're running a bit low on the wherewithal. Presumably, there might be more crystals to be found deeper inside this complex, but I'm reluctant to squander the couple we have left. I have no qualms about using one on this device, although it appears to need something more than a simple jolt of energy in order to function. A cylindrical flask is attached to the operating console, and I'm assuming that a chemical component is also required. Unfortunately, accessing the Precursor data terminal sheds no further light on the Sea Emperor incubation process, or exactly what chemical compounds are involved.
"New life sleeps. Life-stuff from This One gone. You make, Father of Shells. This One show. Look."
We watched in amazement as Father of Tides reached out with his mind, summoning various creatures into his presence. Each one arrived carrying a single fragment of plant material, unerringly homed in on the incubator platform, dropped its offering and swam away. When a lone Crabsquid entered the chamber, my internal HUD targeting system reflexively acquired it, at least until I noticed that it also carried a frond of deep-water growth. It dropped the plant matter onto the platform without even glancing in my direction, and then slowly swam away.
Father of Tides descended slowly, his immense form coming to rest barely two metres away from Gawain. I exited the ExoSuit cockpit, swimming over to him so that we can converse face to face. One last time. It seems most befitting to do him this courtesy of honour while he still draws breath.
"You have many knowings, Father of Shells. You have knowing to make bad waters clean, yes?"
"Yes. This One can." I admitted. "Waters of First Home above-sky gone bad. Nothing swims."
"You take many life from This Place. Make waters of First Home clean. Make new seeds of life."
At this point, you might be wondering precisely what species of plant those creatures were carrying. I can only tell you this... Keep wondering.
There are some secrets that can never be revealed.
"Good. Now you make Old One far-swim thing live."
Father of Tides gestured toward an inactive Precursor portal, almost entirely buried under a small mountain of sand. I groaned inwardly. That will take hours to clear, although we might be able to speed up the job by using our suit thrusters. Just as I was about to swim down and size up this daunting task, Father of Tides swung his ponderous head around and exhaled a powerful jet of water at the mound, completely scouring the portal platform clear in a matter of seconds. An elegant solution. An engineer's solution.
I wasted no time installing the ion power crystal. The portal flared, and I was pulled forward by a sudden inward surge as the water pressure equalised between both spatial connection points. Its exit is somewhere relatively shallow, judging by the strength and duration of that surge. I'd like to jump through and take a quick gander where this portal leads, but that side-trip is best left for later.
"New life swim free. Too far, too many talon hungry for new life. Far-swim thing keep them safe."
The way is now clear for Manannán's new Emperors. It's time for me to play my part as midwife.
The incubator accepted the enzyme canister's contents immediately. A holographic display flickered into life above the console, providing real-time data on each of the embryos as they stirred from centuries of dormancy. As this final gestation phase is an entirely automatic process, there's nothing else for me to do but wait and absorb a dizzying torrent of information. As it's safe enough in this chamber for Héloise and Enzo to leave their ExoSuits, everyone has gathered on the incubation platform to welcome the newborns.
It's a cold, hard 'Verse out there, and god-parents are a shoulder to lean on when the journey turns hard. Guess we'll do, at a pinch.
As the egg casings began to split, IANTO warned us to move well away from them. Fair comment. There's a possibility that the baby Emperors might accidentally 'imprint' on us, rather than Father of Tides. He should be the first thing they see, not us. Our new vantage point twenty metres away provided an excellent view of the platform, and effectively concealed us from the infant Emperors.
A few minutes later, all of the Emperors had struggled free of their egg cases. Each one experienced a brief moment of disorientation before swimming over to Father of Tides, so it turns out that IANTO was right on the money with his timely warning. Fine, strapping lads all, five metres in length.
The infants clustered around Father of Tides' face, their forelimbs and tentacles waving in silent communion. This touching scene only lasted a moment or two, then they all turned and headed straight for the portal. As the last one disappeared, we swam over to where Father of Tides lay. The gentle thunder of his respiration now fading with each passing breath. He gestured slowly as we approached.
"New life swims free. All is good. Father of Shells words swim true. New life takes my knowing. This One ends now. You go to place above now, take only knowings of Old Ones. Leave talons of Old Ones in This Place."
His face suddenly loomed closer. An unmistakable warning.
"Take only knowing of things, Father of Shells. Not take Old One talons. All will die."
Whatever thoughts the others may have dwelt upon in his final moments, none seemed willing to share. For my part, the sadness that I feel will be impassively analysed, error-checked and filed away for future reference. There is nothing more to be done with it. I feel strangely helpless and incomplete. Aware of the pain, yet unable to speak of it plainly. The phantom ache of a long-gone amputated limb.
At this precise moment, I realised that I have become a half-finished, mechanical parody of humanity. Lip-service has been paid to all outward display of emotional expression, but I need far more than this shining body can offer. I desperately feel a need to cry again. Now, more than ever. All I ask is a pure, primal reflex-arc of sorrow or joy. Cold algorithms and precision capillary tubing will not be enough. I have no need of further camouflage. I still consider myself human, and I want... No. Need to remain as such, in spite of the elegant mechanisms that manifest this increasingly vague imitation of life.
When all is said and done, we are but ghosts in the shell.
Before our departure, I swam over to Father of Tides and gently laid my hand on his rugged forehead. In life, I would never dare show such impertinence, although it seemed a fitting gesture at this time.
"Your watch is over, Father of Tides. Go below and rest easy. Warm seas, old friend." I murmured.
We ascended in silence. Above us, an immense viewing platform hung suspended over the Sea Emperor's former prison. Beyond this structure, there is an even more immense moon pool. The Precursors must have observed their captive from this platform, somehow subduing his enormous body and winching it into the moon pool for closer study in a more confined space. As these pieces of information clicked together, I realised that Precursors may have shared at least one of humanity's defining traits other than insatiable curiosity. Cruelty appears to be a Universal constant.
Our ExoSuits jetted out of the water, landing on an elevated platform overlooking the moon pool. No apparent instrumentation or mechanisms anywhere in here, so it's a fair assumption that this part of the facility was designed purely for visual observation. I'm not sure how I would have reacted to the presence of any obvious surgical equipment in here, although its absence made me revise my estimation of Precursors slightly. If they were inclined to dabble in vivisection here, that would have torn it for me. The way I'm feeling right now, I would erase this place in a heartbeat. Still, it's best that we search the entire complex before I pronounce judgement on an extinct race.
A short corridor lay beyond the moon pool's sole doorway. As we advanced, concealed lighting panels lit up as we entered their detection field, illuminating the way ahead with their familiar green glow. As we stepped into the vast space beyond, Héloise gasped at the overwhelming immensity before her eyes. Without the slightest word of exaggeration, the sight we beheld was sufficiently impressive to stop everyone dead in their tracks. This place was fashioned on a truly Olympian scale. To give you a better idea of what we're looking at right now, one of the lesser Pyramids would fit quite comfortably inside this gigantic room... As a rather ostentatious designer accent piece.
Ironically, we can't tell another living soul about this discovery. Humanity must never know it exists.
Pandora's Box is real. We're currently standing inside it.
Patience, laddie. Wait and observe.
"There's a five-minute interval between each drone's shift. Just enough time for each of us to mine two cubes and have the system replicate a new crystal core." I said. "Stand ready to move in."
Our snatch-and-bolt operation proceeded smoothly. As soon as the worker drone clattered out of sight, we moved in quickly and harvested the ion crystals. The replication process dutifully cycled about halfway through our retreat, but we were already well in the clear. As long as we are nowhere near their work site when they return, the drones will probably continue to ignore us.
"Captain, are you sure only twelve cubes is enough?" Enzo asked. "I've still got plenty of spare cargo space in my suit. I could go back and mine some more, if you want."
"Nay, lad." I grinned. "It's plain you've never heard the yarn of the Golden Goose. We've got more than enough for our purposes. Some will be of immediate use in here, but more importantly, we'll have a few spares to tinker with. I aim to figure out the go of them, with an eye to making more."
Next, we turned our attention to the first row of display cases. Two rows of six Precursor stasis boxes lined the room, flanking the facility's ion crystal fabricator. A fond memory of school excursions surfaces, undoubtedly triggered by the cavernous space surrounding us. Time for Teacher's Speech.
"Before we start, I want to make one thing perfectly clear... Touch nothing. If there's anything in here that warranted a final warning from Father of Tides, there's probably a good reason why. Furthermore, as far as humanity is concerned, this facility does not exist. All mission data beyond this point is to be partitioned under MAXSEC protocol, Borealis command crew eyes only. Base point for recursive event data encryption, the Lava Corridor entrance." I took a deep breath, already dreading what we might find in here. "All personnel, execute MAXSEC protocol."
The display cases are made of an unknown transparent material. Spectroscopic analysis reveals that this substance has metallic properties, although its optical clarity far surpasses anything that we can currently manufacture. Transparent aluminium doesn't even come close to it. One thing is certain, the Precursors took considerable pains to prevent any further access to these items. These items have been physically encapsulated, locked away for eternity. Reliquaries of forbidden knowledge; fully visible, but eternally inaccessible. Somewhere in here, we may even find the secret that toppled the Precursors from their lofty perch.
It's an eclectic selection in here. There is no common theme that binds these disparate elements together. Some items are entirely functional and comfortingly mundane in their uses, others are strikingly beautiful for their artistic simplicity. The remainder were shaped to a far darker purpose.
Precursors turned their ploughshares into swords.