Authors: S. Andrew Swann
Messiah (41 page)
“S-some sort of bioluminescence,” Dörner said. “They engineered something that can feed off the environment, the air, the rock...”
“For a hundred million years?” Lubikov said.
Kugara walked up to Nickolai and placed a hand on his arm. “Remember what I said about feeling insignificant?”
“Yes?”
“I didn’t know what the fuck I was talking about.”
Brother Lazarus walked off the platform and knelt down, bowing his head. The two soldiers followed him, flanking the monk. General Lubikov lowered his gaze from the galaxy above and said, “So, were you trying to hide another star map?”
Nickolai walked off the platform, and took a few more steps into the chamber saying, “No, I don’t think so.”
Unlike the chamber above them, this one was not empty. Beneath the glowing artificial stars, a black hemisphere sat in the center of the floor. Even with his Protean eyes, the smaller dome was hard to see at first. It did not appear to reflect or emit any radiation at all, and despite being three-dimensional, Nickolai’s brain kept trying to interpret the thing as a shadow.
“What is that?” Nickolai asked.
“That is the Barrier.”
The Barrier ...
the words echoed uncomfortably in Nickolai’s skull, the voice alien and halfway familiar. The echo was gone before he could focus on it.
the words echoed uncomfortably in Nickolai’s skull, the voice alien and halfway familiar. The echo was gone before he could focus on it.
The Barrier seemed deceptively small in the gigantic space. It was only possible to overlook it at first because it was nearly half a kilometer away from them, centered under the arc of the glowing Milky Way. Even with his Protean eyes, which were far better at estimating distance than even the artificial eyes they’d replaced, it took a moment for the enormity of the distance involved to sink in.
The hemisphere of the Barrier had to be close to two hundred meters in diameter. It could easily enclose the Dolbrian pyramid above them, and have volume to spare. It rested on a flat stone floor, which, unlike the floor of the pyramid, was generously carved with lines of Dolbrian script. Dörner and Brody called to one of the soldiers to shine the light on the floor in front of them. The nebulous blue of the faux starshine was washed away by the stark white of the soldier’s flashlight. It cut shadows deep into the intricate carvings underneath a transparent protective coating. The two scientists stared at the carving with almost the same expression as Kugara wore, staring at the ceiling. Reading human expression was still a new experience for Nickolai, but he suspected that it was something like awe.
“Can you read it?” Lubikov asked. “What does it say?”
Dörner’s voice cracked, “I—I—damn! I studied this, but this isn’t mathematics, or stellar coordinates. There are words and symbols, I don’t know . . .” She looked up, at the plain all the way to the Barrier. “It covers the whole floor?”
Brother Lazarus reached out and touched the surface of the floor. “It is our scripture,” he whispered. “We have studied it for nearly two hundred years, and about ten percent, maybe fifteen, we have so far translated.”
“How could you keep this secret?” Dörner stared at him, her voice cracking. “This is the most important archaeological discovery in the entire history of—”
Lazarus growled at her. “This place does not exist for the amusement of idle academicians!” He rose from the crouch, and his body language was so tense that both soldiers moved to train weapons on him. “Your concept of history, of time, of species—it is all nothing in the eyes of the Ancients. They left us words and artifacts millions of years beyond our understanding—”
“Brother Lazarus,” General Lubikov interrupted. “I would like to remind you who is still in charge here.”
“I brought you to the Barrier,” Lazarus responded. “What else do you want from me?”
“Perhaps you might go on a bit about the part of that ‘scripture’ you’ve managed to translate. I’m guessing it might have something to do with what’s on the inside of that barrier of yours.”
The Barrier...
The voice was a whisper, an echo of an echo as Lazarus spoke. The words itched inside Nickolai’s skull as if a memory just on the cusp of consciousness. Lazarus continued talking lowly, as Lubikov led them across the chamber toward the Barrier itself.
Lazarus was giving his interpretation of what he knew of the Dolbrians and what they left here. It was hard to tell if he was speaking the whole truth, though the attitude of resignation that hung on the canine seemed to argue that they’d hit the end of his secrets.
According to Lazarus, the Dolbrians—the Ancients—were a self-created God. The Ancients had seeded not only the few dozen planets popularly ascribed to them, they had seeded everything. All life that anyone was aware of was the product, directly or indirectly, of the Ancients’ intervention. What artifacts they left behind were landmarks for whatever sapient life came after their creation—messages to be unraveled when their creations were ready for ascendance.
“Ascendance?” Lubikov asked.
“The Ancients were not some monolithic entity,” Lazarus said. “They were thousands of races over millions of years, races that shared a single faith; a faith that moved them to give us all life, and a faith that calls those who are ready to join them.”
“Your faith?” Nickolai asked.
Lazarus bowed his head. “I know far too little to claim such. There are depths beyond which I lack the understanding to see, and this is how I know we are not ready.”
“Uh-huh,” General Lubikov said as they reached the edge of the Barrier. He gestured at the black dome, so featureless it seemed a flat wall before them now. “So how does this fit into all this?”
“The Barrier is not mentioned in what we’ve translated. I do not know what is beyond it.”
Lubikov shook his head slowly. “Brother Lazarus, have I mentioned what a rotten liar you are. I can hear in your voice when you hedge. What do you
suspect
is behind this thing?”
suspect
is behind this thing?”
“It’s a doorway,” Lazarus said. “It is the way through which our kind will meet the Ancients.”
“How do you get through this thing?”
“You don’t.”
Lubikov looked over at the scientists and Kugara. “This is what you were looking for, wasn’t it?”
Yes . . .
Nickolai rubbed his temples. The alien voice in his head was becoming stronger. He was afraid that again he might start losing volition, might start seeing Adam or Mr. Antonio emerge from the shadows. He backed away from the side of the Barrier.
Dörner nodded and looked at Brody, who said, “Yes, I’m sure the Protean was directing us to use this, somehow. The Dolbri—the Ancients clearly would have the capability to defend against Adam.”
Lazarus whipped around to them, warning, “This is not a weapon!”
“But,” Dörner said, “if it’s a doorway, a means of contact, can’t we ask for help?”
“It doesn’t work like that,” Lazarus said.
“Yet you’ve never been inside,” Lubikov said. He waved one of the soldiers forward. “Sergeant? Are you carrying a bomb kit?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay. I want you to get a probe out and see some analysis on this dome.”
“Don’t test this,” Lazarus said.
“Go ahead, Sergeant.”
“Do not test this!” Lazarus ran toward the man, but the other soldier stepped forward, blocking his way.
“Don’t worry, Brother Lazarus,” Lubikov told him. “No one is touching this thing until we know what it’s made of.”
Lazarus moved fast and managed to slip by the soldier, but only received a gauntleted fist to the back of his head. The monk dropped to the ground.
Yes . . .
Nickolai kept backing away, and Lubikov started shouting orders to back up and give the sergeant some clearance. The one soldier dragged Lazarus’ semiconscious body away from the Barrier, and the general led the civilians after him. They stopped about thirty meters away, fifteen meters past where Nickolai stood.
Kugara stopped by him and asked, “Nickolai? Are you all right?”
Yes...
“I don’t know.” The word still echoed in his head, and he couldn’t take his gaze off of the Barrier. He sucked in a breath and corrected himself, “No, I’m not.”
“Come on,” she said, pulling him back to the others. He didn’t turn around, his gaze locked on the sergeant kneeling at the base of the Barrier. He noticed something as the sergeant worked on constructing a small device.
The edge of the Barrier, where the black surface met the ground, cleanly intersected the innermost line of carvings nearly in half.
Why would the Dolbrians do that? Why cover their own carvings?
Why would the Dolbrians do that? Why cover their own carvings?
They didn’t . . .
came the response to his thought, the words painfully alien in his brain—dark, monotone, familiar.
came the response to his thought, the words painfully alien in his brain—dark, monotone, familiar.
“Who?” he whispered to himself, even though he was already beginning to understand the answer. He stood, unmoving, unsure if he was unable to move because of the alien presence in his skull, or because of the shock of understanding what it was.
Near his feet, Brother Lazarus grumbled and pushed himself up from the ground. General Lubikov called out, “When you’re ready, Sergeant.”
The sergeant nodded and took a few steps back with a control unit. He manipulated the controls, and a trio of small triangular drones rose from the site where he’d been kneeling.
“No!” Lazarus shouted, as the drones flew a small formation into the Barrier. The drones moved as if the blackness didn’t exist, disappearing inside with no resistance at all. A half second passed, and the sergeant called back, “Sorry, sir. I lost contact as soon as they crossed—”
A grinding noise filled the chamber, resonating through the floor, screeching painfully in Nickolai’s ears. Then the Barrier came alive, sprouting huge black tendrils, whipping through the static-charged atmosphere fast enough to crack the air. Someone shouted, “
Run!
”
Run!
”
Before the sergeant could move, a black mass slammed into him, crushing him to the floor hard enough that Nickolai heard the servos on his armor seize up and snap. Another black tendril slammed down, hammering across the man’s upper torso, pieces of it splitting apart to drill into his body so when it lifted, it took the sergeant’s corpse with it.
Nickolai stood frozen to the spot, staring at the suddenly animate Barrier, listening to the alien voice in his skull.
They didn’t build this.
We did.
Nickolai started walking forward.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Apparitions
Planning is always necessary, but never sufficient.”
—
The Cynic’s Book of Wisdom
The Cynic’s Book of Wisdom
“Don’t tell me what
can
go wrong, tell me what
will
go wrong.”
—AUGUST BENITO GALIANI
(2019-*2105)
Date: 2526.8.13 (Standard) 7.2 AU from Bakunin-BD+50°1725(2019-*2105)
The
Prophet’s Sword
emerged from tach-space four and a half days after departing from the converted planet Ecdemi. Adam had left the 61 Cygni system as soon as He was aware of the first tach-comm signals showing that things were not right in the system around BD+50°1725. Bakunin was a core planet, but not a capital, and His view of the social, cultural, and political webs binding Bakunin led Him to relegate it as a low priority. Without His brother’s influence, and with the influx of refugees, the anarchy should have been busy consuming itself awaiting His salvation.
Prophet’s Sword
emerged from tach-space four and a half days after departing from the converted planet Ecdemi. Adam had left the 61 Cygni system as soon as He was aware of the first tach-comm signals showing that things were not right in the system around BD+50°1725. Bakunin was a core planet, but not a capital, and His view of the social, cultural, and political webs binding Bakunin led Him to relegate it as a low priority. Without His brother’s influence, and with the influx of refugees, the anarchy should have been busy consuming itself awaiting His salvation.
Instead, He heard the death rattle of the cloud awaiting His return. It was an echo in tach-space that resonated twenty light-years away. He had felt the resonance as hundreds of tach-drives exploded, wiping His presence from the system.
Adam responded to the insult, even though he knew that the
Prophet’s Voice
had tached away from Earth. The timing meant that His Earth self had left before the impressions of the vaporized cloud could have reached Sol. Earth’s Adam had left not knowing the extent of the resistance, the
evil,
that had grown around Bakunin.
Prophet’s Voice
had tached away from Earth. The timing meant that His Earth self had left before the impressions of the vaporized cloud could have reached Sol. Earth’s Adam had left not knowing the extent of the resistance, the
evil,
that had grown around Bakunin.
The Adam from Ecdemi knew what He might face.
And when the
Sword
tached into orbit around Kropotkin, at nearly the exact location His self from Earth had arrived, Adam was unsurprised when the
Sword
’s control systems saw hundreds of tach-drive signatures, all on vectors toward His ship. He stood on the bridge, spreading His arms as if to welcome the incoming horde of small tach-ships.
Sword
tached into orbit around Kropotkin, at nearly the exact location His self from Earth had arrived, Adam was unsurprised when the
Sword
’s control systems saw hundreds of tach-drive signatures, all on vectors toward His ship. He stood on the bridge, spreading His arms as if to welcome the incoming horde of small tach-ships.
He smiled.
Date: 2526.8.13 (Standard) 350,000 km from Bakunin-BD+50°1725“We have a tach-signature,” Toni II said, staring at the unexpected reading on the dropship’s navigational computer. The dropship was a virtual twin of the
Khalid
, without the damage. She sat next to Toni in the crew cabin, while their three passengers—Mallory, Rebecca, and Shane—sat in the back.
Khalid
, without the damage. She sat next to Toni in the crew cabin, while their three passengers—Mallory, Rebecca, and Shane—sat in the back.
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