Resolution (104 page)
If the torture that preceded it was agony, then no single word matched the fire that raged along Tom’s nerves and split his mind apart as the ship moved in a way that corresponded to no angle in realspace and the universe exploded and died and was reborn and then he was in the ship’s cabin in a place beyond reality.
<
In a way.
Energies washed all around. Amber fluid seemed to permeate everything, and the cabin’s image threatened to slip away from Tom.
I’m
still here.
But even Eemur’s silent words in his mind were a distant, attenuated thing.
<
Someone in a position of power. We need ships to help, at no cost to you. No risk to Pilots’ lives.
<
Help to fix the shield we
almost
have in place.
Janis said nothing.
Tom strained with the effort of merely remaining inside the cabin.
I
know ...
It was the only thing he had to offer.
...
where Kian McNamara is!
That caused Janis to react.
<
Oh, yes. I’ve Seen him.
Then Janis’s hands blurred into motion. That strange holo-that-was-not-a-holo opened and twisted—
Labyrinth!
++Who is this?++
Tom rode the carrier wave.
++Who—?++
Tom rode the wave to Labyrinth.
~ * ~
60
MU-SPACE AD 3426
Strange shimmerings and twisting perspectives and light/not-light bombarded Tom’s eyes.
++Why are you here?++
Where is this?
++We call it the Aleph Annexe. I repeat: Why are you here? ++
Kian McNamara ... I saw him on Siganth.
Tidal shifting. Tom can see nothing beyond kaleidoscopic Chaos.
Mu-space is not for the likes of him.
++Siganth?++
A moving shape, closer now.
Can it be a woman?
He’s a prisoner.
++Tell me where.++
Tom shudders, lost for a moment in the splendour.
Then he concentrates.
Yes, my love. Focus.
And performs a feat of logosophical calculation perhaps only Avernon could appreciate, as Tom takes the remembered feeling of Eemur’s Seeing into the hellworld - that’s right - and transforms it into a displacement vector and shouts out the numbers: the location of the captive, trapped upon Siganth.
It is as if a person, walking along, suddenly reeled off the second-order differential equations that mapped the motion of their muscles. That is what Tom achieves, with Eemur’s help.
Is that enough information?
++Yes.++
To mount a rescue?
++Twenty ships just left.++
Time cannot pass in the ordinary way in this place.
Tom floats.
Who are you?
He needs to know.
Floats for a timeless duration.
++Perhaps I’m the one you think I am.++
An aeon.
++Perhaps I’m not.++
An eternity.
Magic all around.
Will you help us?
Twisting.
Waiting.
++They’re back. My ... Kian is safe.++
Shifting.
Glimpses of wonder.
Rotations in ways he could never—
++We will help.++
Slams out of existence.
~ * ~
61
NULAPEIRON AD 3426
Wounded he hung on a windswept willow ...
Braced against the stone sphere, crucified, Tom could barely see with ordinary eyes the surrounding sky.
‘I’ll... live... Axolon.’ Pain defined every nerve and muscle in his body.
Black dots against the clouds. Tom could just make them out.
‘What—?’
An entire fleet of fighters and suborbitals was heading straight for them.
‘No ...’
They‘re almost ready.
Tom’s head bowed. Far below, Nulapeiron’s landscape was a blur. He was freezing, but at some point his body had ceased to shiver. Not just the crucifixion: the excruciating stress on cramped, screaming muscles and the exposure, too, were killing him.
Tom?
Yes. We have to See.
Ignoring the pain, ignoring the approaching Enemy, he forced it to happen once more.
A great ship formed of silver and gold spreads its wings above the orbital shuttle. It is Janis deVries‘s mu-space vessel.
Inside the shuttle, Avernon is wide-eyed, but still able to perform work as his fingers dance control gestures, transmitting the shield modules’ command codes to the Pilot.
‘When ... When will your fleet arrive, Pilot?’
‘Soon.’
‘I hope you‘re
—’
Then one of the shuttle pilots, Feltima, turns from her display.
‘Enemy missiles are rising.’