Hellhole (39 page)

“That was Zairic, not me,” the man said in a bright, excited voice. “This looks exactly as he described it in my mind.” Fernando peered at the hieroglyphics on the walls, nodding absently. “I can translate this writing . . . but we have something more important to see.”

Cristoph shone his helmet light upward, noting with concern that some of the ceiling blocks were out of alignment, having shifted after the impact and subsequent centuries of seismic rattling. Splits and sharp edges showed, and rock shards had rained down from the high ceiling to form a pile at the center of the cavern. “We might have caused some of that damage breaking in, along with the deterioration that was already occurring.”

Nari was nervous. She twisted her hat around. “This place looks unstable to me. Let’s back off until I can get men down here to shore up the ceiling.”

“I have something more important to do first,” Fernando-Zairic said. Moving with determination, he went to the opposite wall to stand before five L-shaped containers covered with more bas relief markings. The lambent glow and phantom shapes flickered around four of the containers, while the central chamber remained dark.

Following him, Cristoph peered through the translucent lid of the nearest illuminated container and realized with a start what these vessels were – sarcophagi for the original aliens. “They’re coffins!”

“Hopefully not,” Fernando-Zairic said. “They were designed to be preservation chambers.”

Through the clear panel, Cristoph saw that the container was filled with a yellow, glutinous liquid around an immersed, fantastic body. A Xayan? The creature had a vaguely humanoid torso, head, and arms, but from the waist down the body looked more like a caterpillar or slug. In the preserving liquid, the Xayan looked gelatinous, its skin milky and translucent. The smooth, nearly featureless face had two large round eyes, but no mouth.

As Cristoph stared, the creature’s blank eyes suddenly began to spiral. Vincent and Nari, standing next to the other sarcophagi, let out gasps. Then in eerie synchronization, the encased Xayans focused on their rescuers.

Fernando-Zairic sounded pleased. “Four of the five have survived.”

E
ntirely focused on the preserved aliens, Fernando-Zairic worked feverishly to unseal the first lid, but couldn’t move it. “We must free them. They survived the long sleep.” Vincent watched in amazement and trepidation.

Behind the transparent lids, the awakening Xayans showed a collective awareness in their spiral eyes, but they could not move. Overhead, phantom squiggles of illumination crackled softly in the air, flitting about before vanishing and reappearing.

Without hesitating, Vincent helped his friend shove aside the lid. Nari and Cristoph de Carre struggled to open the second sarcophagus, then the third. As each box was opened, the strange creatures began to stir within the gelatinous liquid. In the vault’s dusty air, the ghostly whispers of light took on more definition, forming spirals that disappeared like smoke in a wind.

The alien in the darkened container remained motionless.

“My companions have slept for five centuries, but now our time grows short,” said Zairic. Hearing a sharp crack overhead, he looked up to see a few more pebbles split off from the ceiling and drop down in a rain of dust. The first chunks fell into the pile of debris on the cavern floor.

Nari shouted, “It’s going to come down – everybody out! Move your asses.”

Fernando-Zairic remained where he was. “We cannot leave yet. We must rescue them.”

Vincent grabbed his friend. “I know how important this is to you, but this whole chamber is going to collapse.”

The other man refused to leave the alien sarcophagi. “You don’t understand, Vincent. If we finish awakening them, there won’t be any need to worry. Trust me.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Cristoph looked warily upward as another shower of dust and pebbles pattered down. Spiderweb cracks extended out in jagged directions from the damaged ceiling tiles.

Fernando-Zairic thrust his arms into the goop and grabbed the submerged alien’s torso. “Vincent,
trust me
. Help me lift Encix out.”

Sure that the ceiling would collapse any moment, Vincent plunged his hands into the thick liquid. “You’d better be right about this.” The two men lifted, helping the alien sit up in the slime-filled sarcophagus. The Xayan – Encix? – was quite heavy. Fluid dripped off the creature’s head and upper body as it slowly returned to a state of awareness.

Fernando-Zairic hurried to a second container. “Quickly! Once they are conscious, they can sustain the vault with telemancy.”

Flustered but hurrying, Cristoph and Nari hauled a third alien out of the liquid into the air, while Vincent and his friend rescued the fourth and last one. The four Xayan survivors moved their limbs with glacial slowness, weakly and phlegmatically.

“These others are Cippiq, Lodo, and Tryn.” Fernando-Zairic glanced with sad, eerie eyes to the lone, dark sarcophagus. “Unfortunately, Allyf did not survive.”

The Xayan survivor called Encix was the first to slide out of the sarcophagus and drop to the floor. Its caterpillar-like lower body moved with ripples of abdominal muscles. The other three Xayans emerged from their containers, rising tall and completely silent.

The ceiling crack widened, and more blocks shifted, loosened. Nari yelled and bolted for the tunnel opening.

Like a puppet show, the four awakened Xayans lifted their hands, revealing digits that were more like snail antennae than fingers.

Vincent heard a terrible noise overhead. He grabbed Fernando’s arm. “Come on!”

Huge stones moved, and the roof of the cavern fell inward. But amazingly, the blocks and dust stopped in mid-air, frozen in place. Squiggly lights around them seemed to emanate from the four silent Xayans. The force field created a cushion that held the debris in place.

Vincent stared. Fernando just smiled. “I told you not to worry so much.”

The revived Xayans continued to concentrate, and the displaced stones spun around and floated upward, where they returned to their places like puzzle pieces fitting together. The debris on the cavern floor also wafted up, like a video file being played backward. All the bits filled the crevices and finally a keystone slid perfectly into place. The ghostly light forms crackled and separated, leaving only a few dust motes in the air. The roof of the cavern was entirely intact.

Fernando-Zairic gave a satisfied nod to the alien called Encix, then regarded a stunned Nari, who had fallen to her knees in prayer. Finally he turned to Cristoph. “Your work crews will have sufficient time to reseal the ceiling. The repairs will hold for now. This vault is safe, and we can do our work.”

Vincent shook his head. “You’re right, I shouldn’t worry so much.” He still couldn’t believe what had happened.

Fernando went to a niche in the stone walls, and with obvious reverence, removed a black statuette of a slug-like Xayan and carried it over to the dark sarcophagus that held the dead fifth alien. He somberly stood over the opening and immersed the statuette into the liquid around the body. “Allyf is dead. His spirit will be joined with the others who perished on this world.”

With a wet whisper of movement, the four awakened Xayans slid closer, joining him and combining their silent energies. Their dark eyes spiraled slowly, hypnotically – and the limp body of the dead alien rose out of the gelatinous pool as if pulled by invisible strings. The dead form hovered in the air; the body was well preserved, but its eyes were dark, and its pale translucent skin reflected no light, in contrast to the others. The four living Xayans glided ahead to stand beside it, two on each side, using telekinetic power to hold their fallen companion aloft. Vincent thought they looked like pallbearers.

Fernando spoke aloud, in his own voice now. “Vincent, Cristoph – Zairic wants a few moments of privacy with his companions. Would all of you please return to the tunnel? It’s some form of funeral ceremony, as I understand it. They’ve earned it, don’t you think?”

Cristoph de Carre looked uneasy, but didn’t argue. “They deserve that.”

Fernando felt like a spectator in his own mind, watching and learning such an amazing flood of lost, alien knowledge. Zairic allowed him to observe, but Fernando wasn’t sure how much he could understand, even with his alien companion’s help.

Fernando had seen the fear and uncertainty on Vincent’s face. His friend could not comprehend what he was witnessing, how these Originals were being awakened with their bodies and memories intact – a flash of unexpected hope after so much destruction. He wished he could communicate his own epiphany clearly. Maybe someday, if Vincent entered the slickwater pool himself, he would understand.

For now, Fernando had to remain a bystander in his own mind. He listened as the Zairic presence spoke to his newly awakened companions, exchanging mental concepts that were accompanied by dancing spirals and sparks of energy in the air.

The four Xayans expressed their grief over their companion’s death. “Our dreams are smashed,” said the one called Cippiq. “Allyf was with us for a reason. His ability to . . .”

Encix seemed to be the strongest, and had the most to say. Fernando realized that Encix and Tryn were both females of the species. “Allyf’s specific abilities were like ours, though more refined,” she said. “But all hope is not lost. We are alive, and perhaps there are still ways to resurrect our dream.”

“We are alive,” Lodo repeated; he seemed the most ponderous of the four. “But our abilities have been diminished by long disuse. With so few Xayan minds left, I do not know if – ”

“No more of that!” Encix said. “You have not changed, Lodo. You always did complain too much.”

Zairic pointed out, “The Xayan race remains, stored in the slick-water. We can awaken them, exactly as I have done here.” He raised Fernando’s human hands. “Our two species are compatible, and humans can learn much from our memories. The Xayans can live again, which will enable the humans to grow stronger as well. It is strange, but I believe both races will benefit greatly.”

“First we must communicate with them,” Encix said. “Convince them of what they – and we – must do. For
ala’ru
.”

As he witnessed and understood the conversation, Fernando knew they were referring to a remarkable evolutionary and spiritual ascension of the Xayan race – something they hoped to achieve.
Ala’ru
. He could feel his own excitement and Zairic’s. The other presence inside him said, “We have the means to do so.”

Together in the museum vault, the four Xayans fell silent. At the core of Fernando’s mind, he felt a buzzing sensation. The lifeless body of Allyf sank back into its sarcophagus, submerged in the preservation fluid, and the clear lid closed.

“He will remain here,” Encix said. “Until we need him.”

The four original Xayans fell into line and followed Fernando-Zairic out of the deep chamber and up to the surface of their drastically changed world.

I
t was more than the General had dreamed of.

Preparing to receive the reawakened aliens at Elba, Adolphus felt more unsettled than he had before any battle. Over a secure channel, Cristoph de Carre had sent word about the remarkable discoveries within the mountain chamber, providing images of the shocking – revolting? – race that had originally inhabited this planet.

Even though he himself had funded the excavation project, the General hadn’t allowed himself to believe entirely. Fernando Neron had been right after all.

Adolphus had been so preoccupied with the complex and converging plans for his stringline network and the possibility of independence for the entire Deep Zone, the alien relics had seemed a mere hobby . . . something to dream about. But now, he expected a great many things were going to change about this planet and its place in human history.

With a last look at the strange artifacts he kept encased in vitrines in his study, the General stepped out onto the open front porch, anxious to hear the approach of the vehicle. The turquoise groundcover was in bloom, adding an unusual soapy smell to the air.

Adolphus had donned his formal military uniform – not that the Xayans would understand its meaning (unless, of course, they had learned those details from Fernando’s memories). He turned to Sophie, who stood next to him, offering her silent strength. “Nothing in my career has prepared me for a first-hand meeting with aliens.”

She squeezed his hand, and he was not quick to let go. “First off, stop thinking of them as ‘aliens.’ Hellhole is
their
world. They’re the original inhabitants. We’re the ones who came from outside.”

A chill went up his spine. “And what if they want their planet back?”

“There are only four of them. I’m more worried about what happens when the Diadem finds out – she’ll send a lot of people here to investigate.”

“That’s why we need to keep all this quiet until I understand it better myself. Luke Pritikin is already asking questions about the ‘significant new discovery’ he’s heard about, and you know he’s ready to report to Sonjeera.”