Starship Spring (8 page)

I slept well that night and awoke only once to find Hannah pressed to my back, her lips wet on my shoulder. I smiled to myself and stared at the silver light slanting through the wall of the room, then slept again.

I was awoken abruptly just before dawn. I sat up and swung myself out of bed, an image dissolving as I came to my senses. I tried to recall the dream, the warning…

“Ella!” I cried out.

Hannah was awake beside me. “David?”

I stood, tugging on my shorts. “Ella…” I said again, more to myself this time.

Hannah reached out and placed a calming hand on my arm. “What is it…?”

“I… A dream. I had a dream.” I closed my eyes, confused. “Ella was in danger.”

I hurried from the room, Hannah close behind me.

I came to Ella’s room and pulled open the door. My heart jumped as I saw the empty bed. I stepped into the room, gripped by a terrible fear. “Ella?”

I stared around wildly, Hannah beside me now, shock vivid on her face.

Terrible scenarios played themselves out in my fevered mind: we were high up, next to a thousand-metre drop… the was a pool on the roof… the forest began just metres away, and who knew what dangers lurked there…

Crazed with fear, I pushed past Hannah and hurried from the villa, yelling, “Ella!” at the top of my lungs. “Ella!”

I stood on the patio, whirling like a madman, looking everywhere but seeing nothing.

The others were hurrying from their rooms, pulling on clothing as they came, identical expressions of worry making their features oddly uniform.

“David?”

“Ella’s gone! She’s not in her room. She was there last night—I looked in. She’s gone!”

I tried to keep the fear at bay, but I could not help but feel a harrowing, pre-emptive grief for Ella—out of all proportion to what might have happened—and at the same time an echo of the grief I had experienced in the aftermath of losing Carrie all those years ago.

Hannah was clutching me, tearful now. Matt gripped my arm. “It’s okay, David. We’ll find her, okay?”

Kee hurried from the villa, staring at me. She took my hand. “This way, David.”

I shook my hand. “What?” I felt a sudden surge of hope, followed by the rational thought: how on earth could Kee know the whereabouts of my daughter?

Maddie said, “Do you know where Ella is, Kee?”

The alien girl turned a serious face to Maddie and said, “Ella is making her way to the third chamber.”

My senses swam. I laughed, unable to take in the logic of her words.

“How do you know?” Hannah said, admirably calm.

“We… my people… we know,” was Kee’s reply.

Maddie was already pulling out her com. “I’ll contact Da Souza. She has the key—”

She fell silent, stopped by the logic of her words. She stared at me, and did not need to say:
but how could Ella gain access to the chamber…?

Kee was pulling me towards the steps that led into the forest. “This way. Ella went this way.”

Unable to bring myself to trust Kee’s certainty, and beset by fears for Ella’s welfare, I could feel only anger welling in my chest. Hannah took my hand as Kee raced ahead, a dryad figure as she paused in the fringe of the foliage and looked back, gesturing us to hurry.

We caught up with her and plunged into the forest, Matt and Maddie close behind us. I found myself asking where Hawk was, and without stopping Kee replied, “Hawk has gone to get his ship.”

I could only laugh at this, almost hysterically. “His ship?” I said.

But Kee was accelerating with every step and failed to hear my question, or perhaps chose to ignore it.

It came to me then that we were heading up the incline, and not down as we should have been doing if we wished to enter the alien chambers.

Seconds later my unvoiced query was answered. We came to the clearing where the standing stone stood. Or, rather, where the standing stone no longer stood.

I became aware of two things simultaneously: that the great monolith was on its side, and that in the forest all around were the Ashentay, watching us.

Only then did I see the shadow in the ground where the stone had stood; then my eyes adjusted in the dappled half-light of the Ring and I could see that the shadow was a hole in the ground. I approached it and made out small steps, leading down.

Kee was already slipping into the mouth of the hole, beckoning me. I followed, stumbling as I tried to negotiate the steps: they were tiny, made for feet smaller than mine, and I braced myself against the earth for support. I heard Hannah behind me. I assumed Matt and Maddie were bringing up the rear; I recall wanting them here, with me; needing them.

There was no natural light down here, but Kee had thought of that. She was holding something above her head, a stick that gave off a dull glow, enough to make out her slight figure and the walls to either side.

The tunnel took a steep dive, and it was all I could do to grip the stone walls and stop myself from tumbling.

I have no idea whether I was attempting to explain events with some rational narrative at the time; I think I was too dazed and afraid to impose logic on the illogicality that was happening. All I wanted was to have Ella in my arms again. All else:
why
she had taken off like this,
what
the Ashentay and Kee had to do with it… all this was secondary and of little concern beside my immediate worry.

Behind me, Matt said, “Kee, why has Hawk gone for the ship?”

Without pausing, Kee said over her shoulder. “Because it is said that he must. We all have our parts in the…” and she said a word I didn’t recognise, an Ashentay word, obviously, which sounded like
shalan
… “and Hawk must do his duty.”

And my part? I wondered. Had my part been merely to ensure that my daughter came to Tamara Falls?

Seconds later Kee halted, and I almost fetched up against her. She pushed something, and a section of the wall before her swung forward. We were in the first alien chamber, the area of silver spears, and as we tumbled from the confines of the tunnel, the movement-sensitive lighting flickered on, temporarily dazzling us.

I stumbled through the spears, calling, “Ella!”

Hannah caught up with me, gripping my hand. I returned the pressure, aware that I did not want to be alone during the events that were destined to play themselves out in the minutes and hours that followed.

Kee was racing ahead, down the aisle between the spears towards the second chamber. We gave chase, passing through the cavern of racked starships in what seemed like seconds before arriving, breathless, at the flimsy door marked “Off Limits”.

It stood ajar. Kee stepped through the narrow gap without having to open it further. I wrenched it wide with an angry gesture and ran into the vast third chamber.

And stopped.

Much had changed since we’d visited the chamber hours earlier. For one thing, the air was warm, charged with something that had the tang of ozone, or electricity—and an eerie humming filled the cavern.

One hundred metres ahead of us, in the centre of the aisle, something vast and cylindrical, carved with alien hieroglyphs, was rising slowly from the floor, its oiled metal exterior identical to that of the pods and figures on either side.

And before it, like a supplicant at an altar, was Ella.

I stood transfixed, unable to move. The cylinder rose, unscrewing itself from the floor, something malign about the speed of its ascent. Or perhaps I ascribed its malignancy only later, when I understood fully what was happening.

The cylinder stopped suddenly, and the charged hum that filled the air rose in pitch.

I found that I could move again, and hurried forward. Ella was only a hundred metres away, but I seemed unable to close the gap between us.

Something glowed in the flank of the cylinder facing my daughter. She was holding something, I saw now: the cone from the necklace. As I watched, frozen, she stepped forward, raised the cone and approached the glowing face of the cylinder.

I called out to stop her doing what she was about to do—but something stopped my cry.

A familiar green glow suffused the chamber. I heard Hannah and Maddie gasp in alarm. I stared.

The attenuated spectre of the Yall floated before us, staring at us. As we backed away, it spoke.

“Do not prevent your daughter from doing this. It must happen. There is danger, but it is
shalan
.” Its words were oddly loud, in that they filled the chamber, but at the same time were gentle, almost quiet. “
Shalan
: that which is meant to be, an evil that must be faced, and then defeated. Please, do not fear. All will be well.”

“What…” I managed at last. “What the hell is going on?”

But all the pacific, floating ghost would say was, “It is
shalan
.” It turned towards Ella as she lifted the cone and inserted it into the face of the cylinder.

She stepped back suddenly, as if she had received a jolt of electricity.

And then the cylinder split open and something from Hell stepped forth.

The creature resembled the figures on the pods, but this one was ineluctably organic: it appeared slick with fluid, like a machine-part stored in grease for years, and its metallic blue carapace scintillated in the light of the cavern. It stepped forward, hunched, a monster, part-insect, part-reptile, and opened its dripping mandibles.

I backed away, despite the fear for my daughter, and deep within me I felt a terrible recapitulation of the cowardice which, years ago, had prevented me saving Carrie.

Ella stood frozen before the creature, tiny by comparison.

The creature turned its great prognathus head, taking in the chamber, then settling its gaze on our tiny, terrified tableau: Hannah and myself, Matt and Maddie, and the spectre of the Yall.

It stepped forward again, almost tumbling Ella in the process, its great clawed feet clanking on the aisle. Ella stared up, petrified.

The apparition of the Yall moved from us, down the aisle, and confronted the creature.

The Yall spoke, and the creature replied, and seconds later their dialogue was rendered intelligible to us.

“You awake at last,” said the Yall.

“A million years. A short sleep, for the likes of the Skeath.”

“You awake, soon to be cast into the depths for ever.”

The creature opened its nightmare jaws and gave a mechanical, grating roar, conveying its contempt. Then, “You were a worthy enemy, Yall. You fought us well, even if you were always destined to lose.”

“We did not lose. We… we changed.”

The beast clanked forward, dripping fluid, and as the drops hit the aisle, they sizzled. “Changed? Changed into the virtual ghosts I see before me?”

“Changed into a people which will defeat the Skeath once again.”

“Again?” the monster roared. “You did not defeat my kind a million years ago. We… we merely made a tactical retreat, here, to bide our time, to outlive millennia, until we rose again…”

The Yall gestured, peaceably. “Believe whatever delusion makes you content, Skeath. You will soon learn the truth.”

“The truth is that my kind are risen!” the creature thundered. “The truth is that we will dominate the galaxy, as we did once, before you drove us back.”

And as it spoke, I heard a series of what sounded like detonations echo around the chamber. I looked around and saw, to my horror, that the pods that lined the aisle were snapping open, and that the creatures within, smaller versions of their leader, were emerging.

What had Da Souza said, that there were more than half a million of these pods within the chamber?

The Yall, apparently unperturbed by this turn of events, said, “My people have waited a long time for this encounter. It was inevitable, and desirable, that it should happen—to allow me to pass judgement on the Skeath: that you should be banished from this place and dispatched to a realm from which you will never be able to terrorise the innocent again, where you will be no threat to the peaceable peoples of the galaxy.”

“Words!” cried the Skeath. With an outswept arm it gestured to its risen army. “Annihilate them!”

And before I could even begin to feel fear, another change took hold within the chamber. A great roar filled the air. At first I thought the waterfall had found its way down here—and then chamber was filled with light, an effulgent, golden light, and I felt elated.

We were like flies in amber, tiny creatures transfixed, then, in a medium like sunlight made solid, and I knew precisely what had happened.

Seconds later a small starship appeared to our right, sending pods and the alien army skittling as it did so. A hatch fell open, revealing the lighted interior of Hawk’s cruiser.

I turned to the Skeath and the Yall, and the latter gestured towards the ship. “Go, you have played your part. Go quickly.”

I ran forward, towards the monster, and plucked Ella from its shadow. Kee was already sprinting through the golden glow towards the cruiser, followed by Matt and Maddie. Gripping Hannah’s hand and clutching Ella to me, we raced towards the ship. On either side the alien army raised its weapons.

We staggered up the ramp and collapsed into the sanctuary of the ship. I ran through to the flight-deck, where Hawk was strapped into his sling, wires and cables connecting him to the smartcore.

Seconds later the ship vibrated, its engines powering up.

I held Hannah and Ella and stared through the viewscreen as the Skeath and its army brought their weapons to bear on the apparition of the Yall—

“Hold on!” Hawk yelled.

I cried out as the Skeath poured fire upon the Yall…

And then we were no longer in the chamber, no longer underground. We had left the golden column and were speeding through bright blue sky above Tamara Falls.

Hawk banked the ship and held it steady perhaps a kilometre from where the shaft of the column thrust from the Falls. We crowded around the viewscreen, staring at the wonder before us, the dazzling trunk of light identical to the Golden Column one hundred kilometres to the north.

And I knew then what the Yall had commanded Hawk to do.