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Free Novel Saturday: Star Song, Chapters 28 & 29

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Simple Star Song artEvery Saturday I post a chapter or two of my young adult science fiction novel Star Song. Coming in in the middle? The whole thing starts here with Chapter 1 and an explanation.

Enjoy!

Star Song

By Edward Willett

Chapter 29

Kriss slammed his fist on the table. “Nothing!”

It was late the next day, and for several hours he, Tevera and Andru had been sequestered in a conference room one level below the Thaylia’s bridge, reviewing Family records for data on the planets where the Library had indicated the alien fortress might be found. Andru’s plan depended on the possibility that somewhere in those records, which Vorlick could not access, they would find a clue that would lead them to the right world first.

But they had found nothing beyond what they already knew: all ten worlds had tropical forests, gravity and atmosphere within the indicated limits, and were within range of the Farr’s World dimspace-relay.

Andru frowned. “These records just aren’t detailed enough. They’re all long-range scans. None of the worlds looked interesting enough for any Family ships to bother going in close.”

Tevera looked from him to Kriss. “Are we beaten?”

Kriss shrugged wearily, but Andru suddenly stiffened. “Not yet, we’re not!” He twisted the interface sensor toward him. “Keyboard,” he said, and a virtual keyboard appeared on the table before him. He began tapping, talking as he typed. “You said the Library told you it could only trace your father’s communications back as far as the Farr’s World dimspace-relay. But it should have been able to ask the relay’s computer exactly where the communication originated from. The reason it couldn’t is that our relay is very primitive. It pre-dates the Library; the Library can’t access it. But we can, with the right codes—and I spaced among these stars for years.”

He lifted his hands from the glowing keyboard and waited. “I’ve sent the relay’s computer the exact dates for the transmissions your father made to Earth. It should be able to…there!”

The screen that took up most of one end of the conference room had been displaying images of each of the ten candidate planets. But suddenly nine of those blue-and-white spheres vanished, and the remaining one swelled to fill the screen. “There’s our planet!”

Kriss stared at it, then at him. “But…that was easy.”

Adnru snorted. “Should have been easy. Instead we wasted hours waiting for my old brain to finally figure it out.”

“And you’re sure Vorlick can’t access Family records?”

“I’m sure.”

Kriss felt as if an enormous weight had just fallen from his shoulders. He grinned. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s tell the Captain—”

“—and lift ship!” Tevera finished triumphantly.

But Andru’s rugged face, alight with excitement a moment before, suddenly sagged. “You tell the Captain. You’ve no time to lose. I’ll go back to my inn.”

“Back to the inn?” Kriss stared at him. “But—oh!” Suddenly he remembered—Andru could never space again.

But the innkeeper straightened his broad shoulders, and some of the light came back into his gray eyes. “No matter. Good luck to you both.” He opened the computer room door, then paused and looked back at Kriss. “One thing,” he said quietly. “In my years as part of the Family but separated from it, I learned this: though the Family’s support is useful and welcome, in the end it’s what’s inside of you that’s important. Remember that.” Then he was gone.

“Andru…” Kriss took a half-step after him, but Tevera put a hand on his arm.

“Let him go. He’s said good-bye.”

Kriss stared at the closed door, then shook himself slightly and smiled down at her. “Let’s go see the Captain.”

An hour later the Thaylia roared up from Stars’ Edge. Kriss sat in the same place as he had on that first thrilling lift-off from Farr’s World—and felt just as out-of-place. It made him wonder once more if he could ever truly belong to the Family.

He hadn’t seen Rigel since the Council, and didn’t much want to, but two days into the week-long journey Rigel floated up to him in one of the crew lounges as he was getting a drinking-bulb of fizzy frenta from the vendor. Kriss saw Rigel’s reflection in the shiny surface of the machine and stiffened, but didn’t turn around. “What do you want?” he said neutrally.

“I need to talk to you.”

Kriss picked up his frenta. “Some other time, maybe.” He pushed away from the vendor, trying to brush past, but Rigel grabbed his arm and then grabbed one of the maneuvering lines strung across the lounge, bringing them both to a stop.

Rigel let go again. “Sorry. But I really do have to talk to you.”

Kriss looked at him for a moment. “All right,” he said finally. “But not here. My cabin.”

In that confined space a few minutes later, Kriss released the bulb of frenta, letting it float free, and turned to Rigel, who had closed the door behind him. “So talk.”

“I just want to tell you—I’m sorry.” Sweat-beads glittered on Rigel’s forehead; one drifted free, a bright, tiny sphere.

“Sorry? Sorry?” Kriss tried to stay calm, but he couldn’t keep his voice from rising, though at least he kept it under a shout…just. “For driving me out of the Family? For turning me over to Vorlick? For handing the touchlyre to him? Do you really think ‘sorry’ is enough?”

Rigel swallowed. “No. But it’s all I can offer you.”

“You said you were trying to protect your sister. Do you realize how much you’ve hurt her by what you’ve done?”

“I have some idea.” Heat came into Rigel’s voice now. “Look, you don’t have to accept my apology. But I had to make it. Now if you’ll excuse me…” He turned to go, but Kriss grabbed his shoulder and spun him around again.

“I don’t want your apology. I don’t want anything from you!” All the anger and frustration of the past weeks welled up in him. “There’s no way you can undo the damage. Just stay away from me, you hear me? Just stay away!”

Rigel half-raised a clenched fist, then let it drop. He took a deep breath. “All right,” he said. “I will.” He went out.

Shaking, Kriss turned toward the bed; then grabbed the bulb of frenta, spun, and hurled it against the closed door.

Of course, he had to spend the next half hour chasing down and suctioning up all the little floating globules of fluid…but at least he felt better.

Four days later they came out of dimspace above a blue-green planet, shining brightly under the brilliant disk of its star. Three tiny moons spun around it.

As the Thaylia swung into its own orbit, the serious work of searching for the alien fortress began. Kriss gripped a hand-hold on the bridge, watching the scanner console, as the viewscreens began to display details of a part of the surface far below.

Tevera joined him and touched his arm. “It’s up to the ship, now,” she said softly.

“Maybe the ship could use some help,” he replied, and stayed where he was. Tevera laughed and stayed with him.

The hours dragged by. Together they watched the screens, strapping themselves loosely into the chairs before the controls. Around them beat the heart of the ship; watches changed, system checks were run, repairs were carried out—but Kriss was almost oblivious, wrapped up in his thoughts and in the ever-changing views of the planet’s surface, awaiting his first glimpse of the end of the quest he had in one sense begun in Black Rock the night Mella died. One thing he wasn’t oblivious too, though, was Tevera’s steady presence beside him. She didn’t speak, but every now and then her hand would reach out and find his, and he would turn at the touch of her fingers to see her gentle, reassuring smile.

Ship-day gave way to ship-night. Kriss dozed off for a few hours, but long before the morning watch came on-duty to replace the night-shift, his eyes were once more locked on the screens, while Tevera slept in the chair beside him, her gentle breathing a comforting sound in the silence of the almost-deserted bridge, her arms and hair floating loosely, waving gently in the currents of air.

Then, in the early hours of the new ship-day, every screen flashed and locked onto a huge, rectangular structure. Kriss’s heart spasmed painfully in his chest and Tevera clutched his arm. “That’s it,” he breathed, unbuckling and floating closer to the console. He stared at the image frozen on the screens. “That’s it!” he shouted, and hugged Tevera so hard they both spun wildly and every face on the bridge turned toward them. Kriss grabbed a hand-hold before they floated away entirely and stabbed the intercom button. “We’ve found it!”

“I’m coming,” Nicora said calmly.

“Now what?” Tevera asked, breathless, one arm still around his waist.

“Land, get inside, map it—then get back to Farr’s World and lay claim to it in Commonwealth court. Even Vorlick won’t dare touch it with the full force of Commonwealth law on our side.” He stared hungrily at the screen. “Think of it, Tevera. This is where my parents found the touchlyre. Who knows what else might be down there?”

“Who knows?” she said in an odd tone, but when he shot her a quizzical look, she had already turned toward the central shaft, from which the Captain was just emerging.

Nicora glanced at the screens. She swiped her hand across one, shrinking the image of the fortress so she could study the contours of the land around it. “See that?” she said, pointing to a flat area a half-mile south of the fortress. “That’s artificial.” She raised her voice. “Pilot!”

“Ma’am!” A tall woman faced her smartly.

“There’s our landing spot. Begin de-orbiting.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The pilot turned toward her controls, screens lighting up around her.

“Congratulations,” Nicora said to Kriss.

“There’s no sign of Vorlick,” Tevera put in. “We’ve beaten him!”

“Perhaps. Tevera, take Kriss to the main lock and show him how to prepare the survey equipment. Your team will join you there. Be alert for the de-orbiting warning. We will land within the hour.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Tevera said smartly, and propelled herself toward the exit, pulling Kriss with her.

The descent through the atmosphere was uneventful, and the Thaylia settled smoothly onto the ancient landing field, burning away a thin green carpet of plants. Kriss and Tevera rode down in the main lock with the rest of the six-member exploration party. Because it was his discovery, Kriss, despite his low rank, had been put in charge of the survey of the site itself, but Tevera’s cousin Yverras led the party, which included a woman and two other men—one of whom was Rigel. Kriss ignored him, more concerned with trying to find a comfortable position for his equipment-laden pack now that they had weight again.

Tevera took a deep breath. “I hate high-gravity planets.” Then she pointed at the display by the hatch, showing the conditions outside. “And look at that temperature and humidity! We might as well be in a sauna.”

“We’ll manage,” Kriss said cheerfully. Nothing could spoil his excitement now. “My parents lived here for weeks. Ready, Yverras?”

Tevera’s cousin nodded. “Ready.” He shifted his own pack. “Why couldn’t it have been a nice low-mass asteroid?” he muttered.

Kriss activated the lock, and the inner door irised open, then the outer hatch swung wide, steamy air whistling in as the slightly higher air pressure of the planet’s surface equalized with that of the ship.

The broad ramp slid down to the steaming surface of the field, and Kriss trotted down it. He waited at the base for the others, who descended more cautiously. By the time Tevera joined him his crewsuit already clung to him damply, and he brushed a wet strand of hair from his forehead. “Well, I’ll admit it isn’t exactly a resort planet…” he said as she joined him.

“We’ll manage,” she reminded him.

He laughed, then pointed off to their left. “That way,” he told Yverras.

Yverras nodded and turned to the others. “Keep your beamers ready in case of unfriendly wildlife. And I hope you’ve all kept your pan-immuno nano injections up to date. We’re here to explore, not feed the local fauna.”

Everyone laughed except Rigel, and as Kriss plunged off the hard surface of the landing field into the tangled greenery, he glanced back to see Tevera’s brother searching the sky.

Chapter 39

The high gravity, the strength-sapping heat and humidity, and the boggy ground that clung to their feet like lead boots seemed to stretch the half-mile from the landing field to the fortress into a light year, but at last the towering, vine-draped trees thinned and the survey party stepped out into the clearing that surrounded the alien structure.

Kriss had heard his father’s description of the site in the Library, but even he was unprepared for the incredible bulk of the fortress, and he stopped dead, along with everyone else, at his first glimpse of the endless, unbroken wall of gray-green stone, flecked with white like white-caps on the ocean. Above the wall soared graceful spires of white stone laced with blue, green and silver, glittering even in the mist-dimmed sunlight.

“I thought—” Yverras cleared his throat and tried again. “I expected a ruin.”

“My father said he could see little damage from the outside, but I never dreamed…” Kriss started forward, hitching the heavy pack higher on his back. “Let’s try to get inside.”

“Wait a minute.” Yverras activated the transceiver on his belt and motioned for the others to do the same. Then he spoke into the microphone set in his crewsuit collar. “Communications check. Can everyone hear me?”

Kriss heard his voice in the thick air and also inside his head, from the bone-conduction patch behind his ear. With the others, he nodded.

Thaylia?”

“You’re clear,” said a new voice in Kriss’s head.

“We have the fortress in sight and are approaching it.”

“Understood.”

Yverras glanced around. “We’ll need someone to watch our back trail. Rigel?”

Rigel nodded and disappeared back into the forest.

They moved forward, and found walking in the clearing even more difficult than pushing their way through the trees and underbrush of the jungle. The tough, waist-high grass wrapped around their legs like tentacles and left them with little breath for talking.

Halfway across the clearing Yverras stationed Ellavar, the only woman in the party besides Tevera, on a small rise; then they pressed on in silence, eyes on the wall looming ever-higher before them. No visible entrance marred its smooth surface. When at last they stood at its base, Kriss reached out and touched it—and snatched his hand back at once, his fingers tingling.

But when Yverras touched it, he seemed to feel nothing. “How do we get in?”

Kriss wiped his fingers on his leg. “My father found a door…” He led the way along the wall to the right. After a moment he noticed something odd and stopped, kneeling. “Look!”

Tevera knelt beside him, groaning. “Is this is a good idea? I’m not sure I can stand up again.”

Kriss grinned at her. “You’ll manage.”

“What do you see?” Yverras and the remaining member of the landing party, an older man named Dralos, bent over them.

“See this?” Kriss pointed to a two-inch span of bare dirt between the wall and the first sparse tufts of grass. “It looks like there’s some force keeping the building from being overgrown.” He stood with some difficulty and helped Tevera up.

“Is it as perfectly preserved inside?” Yverras tilted his head back, looking up at the soaring bulk of the wall.

“No…but it isn’t exactly a ruin, either. It’s…well, you’ll see.” Kriss pushed on through the thick grass. “I just wish that force projected a little further,” he grunted.

Panting and sweat-soaked, they finally reached the southeast corner of the structure. Kriss’s three companions drank deeply from their canteens while he examined the rock.

“It looks just like the rest of the wall,” Tevera finally complained, moving up beside him. “Where’s the…oh!” She broke off as Kriss touched a white, rectangular block and a diamond-shaped opening ten feet high suddenly appeared.

Kriss turned back toward Yverras. “I’m ready to go in,” he said. “Unless you’d rather…”

Yverras grinned at him. “This is your moment. I’ll stay out here with Dralos and keep watch.”

Kriss returned his smile. “Thanks.” He glanced at Tevera. “Ready?”

“Ready!”

“Right. Thaylia, Kriss here. We’re going in.” He stepped through the open door…

…into madness.

His limbs snapped rigid and he toppled, powerless. But when he hit the ground he felt nothing—because he wasn’t there any more. Instead, he drifted in chaos. Unintelligible voices whispered and roared and powerful emotions not his own tore through him—anger, hate, fear and joy.

Light exploded, shattered into a thousand colors, died in darkness. Thunder rumbled, became clanging bells, faded into horrible discords. Odors foul and fair choked him, tastes delectable and nauseating ran across his tongue, pain and ecstasy and fiery heat ripped through him in rapid succession.

He screamed, or whispered, or sang, or made no sound at all, he wasn’t sure…and then he fought back, struggling in the confusion that had swallowed him, pushing back the terrifying hallucinations, battling to find himself in the boiling storm of false sensation. He thought he was winning…

…and suddenly all of it was gone and he was back in his body again. Strong hands under his shoulders lowered him to the ground, and he opened his eyes to see Tevera, Yverras and Dralos all bending over him.

Tevera, eyes wide in her pale face, gasped, “Are you…are you all right?”

He sat up and looked around. They were just outside the wall. The diamond-shaped door mocked him. “I don’t know. What happened?”

Yverras answered. “You took one step through the gate and went down like you’d been clubbed. We dragged you back out.”

“What’s going on?” demanded the voice from the ship.

“We’re all right,” Kriss reported. He struggled to his feet, taking deep breaths of the hot, wet air, and looked hard at Tevera. “You didn’t see anything when you came in after me?”

“Nothing.”

He turned to Yverras and Dralos. “Or you?”

They both shook their heads.

“Or hear or feel anything?”

Tevera gripped his arm almost fiercely. “What happened to you?”

He stared at the gate. “It was almost familiar…” he whispered, then suddenly whirled toward her. “Of course! The touchlyre! It was just like the feeling I get from the touchlyre, only a thousand times stronger!”

“But the touchlyre doesn’t make you hallucinate.”

“It does! When I’m playing the touchlyre I visualize things that have happened to me as clearly as if I were living through them again. This is the same mechanism, I’m sure of it—but out of control!”

“Then why didn’t we feel anything?” Yverras demanded.

“You’ve never played the touchlyre. Only my father and I have.” And maybe Vorlick, he thought unwillingly. “And my father spoke about earth-shattering power in this fortress. I didn’t understand before…” He looked up at the towering wall. “Now I do. If I could tap it…” The excitement faded from his voice. “But I can’t.”

“Why not?” Tevera had caught some of his enthusiasm. “If it’s just like the touchlyre…”

“But stronger. Much stronger. I could never control what I felt in there with my mind alone.”

“Then how…”

“Don’t you see? My father called the touchlyre the ‘key artifact.’ It’s not a musical instrument at all—it’s a key, a controlling device for this fortress. And Vorlick has it! If he finds this place…”

From his companions’ expressions he could see they realized the implications. “So what do we do?” Tevera asked, subdued.

He took a deep breath. “Just what we set out to do. We go inside, map the fortress, and lay claim to it as a Family discovery…and hope that’s enough to deter Vorlick.”

“But you can’t even get in the door!”

“I think I can, now that I know what to expect. I learned to control the touchlyre…”

“You already said you can’t control this fortress!”

“No, but I think I can shut it out.” He smiled at her crookedly. “But be ready to catch me in case I can’t.”

“Kriss, it could be dangerous,” Yverras said slowly. “Are you sure…”

“My parents didn’t let the danger stop them, and it’s not going to stop me, either!”

Yverras searched his face. Kriss met his gaze squarely, and finally he sighed. “All right. I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

Kriss relaxed a little and smiled again. “So do I. Let’s find out.” He walked back toward the gate, the other three close behind—but this time as he stepped through he was prepared for what would come.

The blast of mental energy struck him again, but though he staggered, he managed to keep the sensory chaos on the fringes of his mind. Ghostly images danced briefly across his eyes, and there was a distant roaring and muttering in his ears, but he thought he could function.

He wrinkled his nose at an imagined scent of corruption, then took a deep breath. “I’m all right. Let’s get on with it.”

“Dralos, stand watch just outside the wall,” Yverras ordered. “I’ll stay inside by the gate.”

“Yes, sir.” Dralos disappeared outside and Yverras stationed himself by the door, keeping a close watch on Kriss.

But Kriss had eyes only for the fantastic interior of the fortress. Almost without being aware of it, he took Tevera’s hand.

Time, it seemed, had stood still inside the wall; every building, every bit of glass and metal, shone clean, new and strong as though made the day before instead of centuries or millennia in the past.

But great craters pitted the broad streets of black stone, many of the white, dome-shaped buildings were shattered or split open and gaping scars marred the smooth green wall.

Tevera gave Kriss a questioning look. “War,” he said simply.

Yet although the damage was widespread, a closer look revealed, as his father had said, that it was also superficial. The tall spires, surely the most important buildings in the fortress—maybe its whole reason for existence—stood untouched; the smaller buildings and the streets had taken the brunt of the attack, as if whatever force guarded the towers had been taxed to the limit and unable to spare any protection for anything of lesser value.

Kriss unslung his pack and began pulling out the mapping equipment, relieved to get the weight off his back. “Let’s get busy,” he said, then winced as a flash of ghostly fire seared his fingers. “I’m not sure how long I can stay in here. Thaylia, are you ready to receive data?” The ship didn’t answer. “Thaylia?”

Yverras tried. “Thaylia, come in. Do you hear me, Thaylia?” He had no more success than Kriss, and glanced at the boy and shrugged. “The wall.”

Kriss nodded. “We’ll have to record the information and beam it to them later.”

With Tevera’s help he set up the equipment and activated it. At once a tiny silvery probe flashed into the sky and began criss-crossing the fortress, recording every detail. “Let’s take our own look,” Kriss suggested.

Leaving Yverras by the door, they set out for the center of the city, picking their way along the debris-littered streets. At the base of the central tower, the highest of them all, they came upon something that did not belong to the alien builders—a bright orange plastic drink container. “My parents’,” Kriss said softly, bending down and picking it up. There was nothing else to indicate humans had ever been there, but the abandoned trash was proof enough his parents had left in a hurry; they would never have contaminated the site that way except in an emergency.

Tevera looked up at the tower. “Where did they find the touchlyre?”

Kriss pointed. “There—at the very top.” Craning his neck, he could just make out the windowed chamber his father had described, but not the crystal globe above it. “My father said he felt a strong urge to climb up there the moment he saw the tower…” He looked down at Tevera suddenly. “I wonder if the touchlyre were somehow calling him?”

Tevera shook her head. “I’m almost glad Vorlick has that thing. The way you talk, it’s like…like it has a mind of its own. It scares me.”

“Sometimes it scares me, too,” Kriss said slowly, remembering Salazar. “But it’s also done so many beautiful things…it brought us together, remember.” He looked around the alien fortress. “If Mella had known what it was really capable of, she would never have passed it on to me.”

“Kriss! Tevera! Come back! Hurry!” Yverras’s frantic shouting filled Kriss’s head.

They exchanged startled looks, then dashed back along the shattered street to the gate. Yverras waved to them before plunging out through the diamond-shaped door.

“I’m…hearing…things…again,” Kriss gasped as they pounded along the black pavement. “Roaring…”

“No…hallucination,” Tevera gasped back. “I…hear it, too…”

They burst out into the clearing, where Yverras and Dralos stood staring at the sky. “What’s wrong?” Kriss choked out.

“Incoming ship,” Yverras said. “It won’t answer our hails.” He pointed into the milk-white sky, as a point of fire as bright as the mist-shrouded sun appeared. “There!”

The brilliant dot grew swiftly into a blazing tail of white flame, and the shape that rode it became clear.

With a roar that echoed from the fortress wall like baleful laughter, Vorlick’s Gemfire settled beside the Thaylia.

On to the final two chapters…


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