The TML PBeM

1992, Turn 2 - Part 6 (of 6)

Kingfisher

Daniel Silvmane is happy as a pig in mud. The sensor suite of the Kingfisher is reeling in data in reams, and his hands are in constant motion over the holodynamic panel he set up for himself in the Common Room. Headphones blare the latest record from Near Miss ("Dance of Fools," currently banned by the realms of Lucan, Dulinor, Strephon, and Margaret, with the Ziru Sirkaa and the League of Antares soon to follow) in his ears as he immerses himself in the unending display of fascinating trivia about the Ring....

The sensor system was set up for him by Johann Abuko, with the approval of Count Ger. It is totally passive, and completely disconnected from anything that might affect the operation of the Kingfisher in a crisis. The many alarms and telltales were getting annoying, so he turned them off....

Wait until Ralf sees this, he thinks to himself. I hope the sensors on the Talisman are up to snuff-- if we can triangulate on some of these phenomena, we can map out the whole--

Suddenly his reverie is broken by a coruscating flash of light from across the Ring, temporarily blinding the light-collector arrays. "Huh?"

He scans the readouts. Multiple Jump exits, fusion sources, meson fire....

He frowns and switches off the music, turning around. "Hey, Fitz--"

Severin is gone. Dan gets up and makes his way forward.

Stepping onto the Bridge, he pushes Lazer's gun barrel aside with a finger and says, "Has anyone noticed that we have company? Oh, hi, 'Vouf. Um, why's everybody running around?"

"GET your UGLY pink KEESTER BACK on those SENSORS," Vouf snarls without turning around. He glances at Abuko. "Sounds like you KNOW this guy, A.P."

Startled out of her concentration, Nikki yells, "Huh!? 50%!" Then the content of the radio message begins to sink in.

"Solomani!" Glancing at Aurelia, she asks, "What's your plan?"

Still programming the helm at breakneck speed, Aurelia replies, "Maybe we can get to a large body of water and hide."

Nichole nods, "Or at least get the Ring between us and them. Good idea."

"Yeah." agrees Aurelia. "Now only if it works!"

"Well," offers Nikki, "we can always say we got over excited and pressed the wrong buttons!"

Aurelia arches her eyebrows as she rapidly scans the info streaming from the sensors. "Right. I'm SURE they'll believe us!"

Checking the engineering displays, Nikki says, "We won't be able to hold this output much longer."

"How long?" asks Aurelia.

Nikki taps out a quick calculation.

"Long enough to get to the Ring."

In the midst of trying to make sense of the gunnery data coming in, J.J. notices a flash from the secure-cam holo-display. He glances at it and there in the picture is a dolphin. And it is on-board the Talisman. "Security to Capt. INTRUDER ALERT! INTRUDER ALERT! we have been board by a dolphin, present location Engineering. Where do you want me Thul, with the guns or do I go get the fish?"

"If I live through this day, I'll never sign on another damn hazduty contract again, I SWEAR!" Slide Wrinkley is running like a maniac between the main Jump Drive controls and the Power Plant. As his hands fly across the controls, easing the plant on line and preparing to charge the Jump grid, he mutters to himself nonstop.

"Goddamn it Grey, once in a while I'd like to put this baby through a Jump WITHOUT having to crash charge the Zuchai crystals! We barely patched together the fuel lines after the LAST time, and..." He slams a fist down on the commo panel. "O'SHI, GETCHER BUTT *DOWN* HERE ALREADY!"

The voice that replies is smug. "Can't. Confined to quarters."

Slide's eyes bulge. "BY *WHO*, FOR SET'S SAKE?!"

"Chief Medical Officer. He ranks you an' Grey, man. An' he really DID pop inta Sickbay outa nowhere...."

"Doesn't surprise me," Grey's voice cuts in shakily. "Count Ger just poofed onto the Bridge. Attention, all hands-- CO on the Bridge."

"Whattayamean, just POOFED!" Slide runs down the status logs with a fingertip as he continues to bring systems on line. "Well, get him to gimme back O'Shi, or 'poof' Bhyarrvouf or Abuko or Silvmane or SOMEBODY! We had barely enough manpower to do this in a hurry LAST time, and that was with the Anslinger covering our butts--"

He stops dead on that thought. In his mind, he remembers a flash of exploding hydrogen, fired by the other Turnskaad ships to cover the Alcyon's escape....hydrogen meant for the Alcyon....

He whirls to the main fuel-tank monitor system, and tabulates the ullage rapidly. His eyes squeeze shut, as if he'd just received a painful injection in a tender spot, and he slumps into a chair.

"Bridge," he whispers, "Tell the Commander that stunt with the exploding fuel at the last jump point cost us thirty percent of our go juice. We're sitting at about three-hundred-fifty thou. That's enough to jump us about three parsecs...but not enough to make the rendezvous."

"We're stranded...."

Nerves, tempered and battle-hardened, trained by a lifetime of military tradition, respond within milliseconds to the call of the warrior, yet in this moment of crisis Akhouw calmly takes charge. The low pitch and sharp tone of his voice are the only indicators of his internal stress.

In a blur, his right claw stabs down, activating the panic button. The lighting changes instantly to the subdued reddish hues of combat lighting and in the background a klaxon begins to sound general quarters.

He snaps off an order to Aolrkhea'. "Engage EM cloak! Order for_Khaurl_: Engage cloak, execute maximum thrust rendesvouz with _Trakh_."

Akhouw throws an order at Aiwi. "Speeder emergency recall! Begin nav calcuations for jump, best wilderness refueling point!"

The claw shifts a centimeter to the left, activating the intercom. "Aeawiyh, full combat power, NOW!"

Then a last, more ominous order. "Fa'eairl. Missile load, nuclear magazine."

Aaron haut-Frieder is running like a madman down the corridors of the Alcyon. He's in good shape, his muscles toned but not bulging, his blonde hair and thick walrus mustache flying behind him. It's easy to see that he's in good shape, because he's almost naked. Only a pair of black boxer shorts lie between him and an indecency charge; he only threw THOSE on after Slide's screaming woke him up because he knew Pater would film his flight and that Ger and 'Vouf would do a crew-efficiency review of the tapes later....

He skids to a barefoot stop at the iris valve to the main Jump Drive monitor area, several decks above where Wrinkley is battling the Power Plant, and opens the door. "Slide," he pants as he jumps into a chair, "This is Aaron. I'm on station in the Jump area-- yell if you need me and can't get anyone else."

A tiny wind tickles Aaron's mustache. He frowns and looks puzzled for a moment, then shrugs and runs a hand through his mustache to calm the itch as he sets to work. Another breeze, stronger than the last, ruffles his hair, but he ignores it....

Ian grabs Doejin forcefully on the fluke or fin, or just about anything going past him.

*WAIT! JUST A SECOND! Doejin, if you're going with the humans, take this message to Judge Jett: (This is *IMPORTANT*!) Tell him the crystals in my chamber are NOT to fall into the hands of people who shoot first. Tell him to destroy them if he has to to keep them away from whoever just got here. Here is my Turnskaad ID, so he will know the message is from me, and only he will know the codes (to use with it) to get the info from those crystals.*

Ian smiles.

*I must stay behind and do what I can help the Hoop. That's why I'm here. If we should never meet again, I am enriched by these few minutes. Now -- GO!*

And Ian pushes himself through the other at almost the same instant, hoping like hell he doesn't wind up 200 m underwater.

There is a shift in gravity, and suddenly a cool, sweet wind is ruffling Ian's hair. A calm, placid voice-- more calm than it had ever been heard on the Alcyon-- greets Ian.

"Oh, hello, Ian. It's good to know I won't be alone on this trip."

Ian turns and faces Richard Jett, and breaks into a wide grin. "Yes, it is," he agrees. "Let's find a place to spend the night, and then get moving. I expect Ferdy will catch up to us after he checks in, but in the meantime it's getting on toward Sunfade...."

"T minus two-hundred forty seconds and counting," Announced the loudspeaker, "All systems reporting nominal. Tertiary interlocks disengaged."

A large chronometer placed on the wall of the laboratory confirmed the announcement. The number continued to descend, but none of the technicians seemed to pay much attention to it. Although there was no obvious sign of stress or foreboding in the expressions or actions of any of the personnel, the tension was definitely there. The heavily armed Imperial Marines surrounding the room betrayed the importance of the process at hand.

Vigorous streams of data poured forth from the various terminals and hard-copy printers around the room. A green light indicated that all systems were 'go', but one observer was skeptical. Checking his hand computer, which was directly linked into the tactical and security network, the figure frowned to see that there were no irregularities reported. Unconvinced, except by his own eyes, the man in the uniform bearing the markings of a lieutenant commander and sporting the name "Greyson" on the name tag left the lab to make one last round in the security perimeter before the test was executed.

Placing an identification card into a slot by the door, he stared into a beam of red light. Three seconds later, the panel above the slot where he placed his card read:

Greyson, Darrow
Lt. Commander
Security clearance: Alpha Primus
Identity verified

ACCESS GRANTED

After which, the door slid open, revealing that it was composed of a twenty centimeter-thick bonded superdense alloy. Greyson passed through the portal, which then promptly resealed, it's magnetic locks audibly reengaging.

He checked his watch. There were still a few minutes left for him to make his rounds in the secured corridor. Checking his hand computer, he was not entirely please to see that he was the only entity registering in the area. Despite his equipment, he knew that something was amiss. He had a highly developed intuition for these things. If he sensed something were wrong, then he would believe his gut instinct over any mere piece of machinery, no matter how sophisticated or 'fail-safe'.

Greyson inspected every possible point of entry, checked every security sensor. There were no flaws . . . yet. Although many of his compatriots discounted it, Greyson believed that he had a sort of precognizant ability; A sort of clairvoyance into the future. It was nothing of the psionic hokus-pokus that the press was so busy maligning. He had dealt with the Zhodani. He knew them to be honorable. They would not be the ones to attack the Imperium while it was weak. If any attack was to come, it would be from the perennially restive Solomani. Their politics of racial supremacy were dangerous because they were so intoxicating to so many normally rational people.

"Thirty seconds until test. All personnel prepare for primary safety interlock release."

The man mentally chastised himself for falling into daydreaming. This had never happened to him before while on so important a duty. Dismissing the transgression to fatigue, he consoled himself with the thought that, after the test was complete, he could relax. At that moment,however, he realized that he would have to hurry if he was to get back to the laboratory in time.

As he was heading down one of the corridors, he felt a presence behind him. In one lightning-fast action, he drew his specially-balanced 9mm autopistol, wheeled around, dropped to a squat while levelling his weapon, and shouted into his headset.

"Priority one! Security team to secured perimeter! Repeat, security team to secured perimeter!"

Suddenly, all went red. The base went on to top alert. Greyson plastered himself to the wall of the corridor as he crept down the direction of the disturbance. He knew that something had been wrong with the security system. Within fifteen seconds, the entire security perimeter was filled with Marines, some equipped with battledress, others with flak jackets. All had gauss rifles.

The final countdown was underway. Neither Greyson nor his troops had found anything yet. Then, just as he heard the loudspeakers announce that the test was proceeding, and that the primary interlocks had been released, a corporal shouted, "look out!" while making a dive toward the lieutenant commander.

Greyson could not discern what happened after that.

It was as if everything had been turned inside out. There was a flash of white; a gut-wrenching feeling. His body was being torn apart. Every blood vessel in him felt like there were about to burst. His heart felt as if it would explode, were it not for the kevlar flak jacket he was wearing.

Then, all was calm . . .

Visions passed before him: His mother and father reading to him one night . . . His grandmother visiting the family one weekend . . . His girlfriend on the night of the Graduation Dance . . . His brother's horribly burned body and the painful expression in his eyes . . . His sister crying at the starport . . .

His sister crying at the starport. That was the vision that remained with him, if only for a moment.

Ferdy looks on with a feeling close to despair as he watches Doejin disappear through one portal and then Ian through the other. Whichever way he chooses, he will have lost one of his friends, perhaps forever.

* The Visitors are leaving? So soon? No time to even meet them all? This is getting worse all the time. *

He hangs there for a long moment, looking back and forth from one portal to the other.

* Well, I've got to make a decision... *

Ferdy makes a long and not very pleasant noise through his blowhole.

* Darn it, I'm too old to go off splashing about the cosmos. The Great Hoop is my ocean, and that's where I'm going to die. *

With a flick of his tail and a mental prod at his skysuit, Ferdy darts straight through the centre of one of the portals.

* Ian! Wait for me...! *

The portal shrinks to nothingness behind him, and the Phin shuttle is empty.

Nick Talon and Hur'Shurvan watch the Phin shuttle on their bridge displays, as it slows and maneuvers for docking. Less then one hundred meters are left between the two spacecraft and the distance continues to shrink.

The Westwind's sensors continue to dump data on the invasion fleet into the ship's computer for later analysis. Only a few scant seconds have passed since a flash of light and wave of hard radiation heralded the conversion of the unexplored derelict in highly charged plasma.

Talon and Shurv listen silently to the Solomani diatribe. When it ends, Talon lets out a long, low groan. "My mother warned me there'd be days like this. I never believed her. I wonder if--"

Suddenly, without any warning, the Phin shuttle pirouettes on its center of mass, in a move that almost appears fast-forward. Changing its heading with close to one hundred and eighty degree yaw, the shuttle engages what must be its maneuver drive. In a pulse of glaring ultraviolet light, the shuttle recedes from the Westwind at well over fifty Gees.

Talon whirls to look out of the viewport, as the Phin shuttle suddenly veers away and shoots off at immense speed.

"Freeeow! I think our hosts just left us in the lurch. Incredible ship, though, isn't it?"

"Umm, Nicholas..."

"I'd love to get my hands on one of those."

"Excuse me Nicholas, but..."

"What a mover! It must-- What is it, Shurv?"

"Nicholas, what do you suppose that is, dead ahead of us?"

"What? Oh, it's just a thirty meter glowing disk that we're about to crash into."

"Oh."

Before Talon or Shurv can react, the large glowing disk quickly sweeps over the scout-ship and devours it.

"Aye, sir," Aiwi nods, beginning to assemble a course for.... she stops. "Admiral," she says quietly, "Wilderness refuel beyond the Ring is not possible. This system has no other fuel sources. Suggest we attempt a landing at once."

Aiwi calls up the Ring's frequency on the audio comm panel as she frantically attempts to assemble a course toward the Ringworld. "Calling the entity known as Iasic! This is the Trakh, requesting guidance on an evasive course to the surface of the Ring and the location of a safe landing zone!"

There is no answer....

Aaron haut-Frieder is slaving away at the Jump console, trying to coax recently-dormant systems to life, when he feels the breeze again. It's stronger this time, and cold.

He turns around, and looks suspiciously out over the vast expanses of the Jump Drives, and the open room where 'Vouf did his ice-dancing act, and poor MT died, and Leadfoot nearly killed everyone. If some lingering bit of sabotage hadn't been caught....

He sighs. A vacuum leak would produce a steady wind, not gusts. "I must be imagining things," he says, and returns to the console.

A tiny sound jerks him around in his seat-- the sound of a spark arcing across a gap. It was tiny, but unmistakeable. Frowning, he flicks the com unit on. "Slide, this is Aaron. Hold off on routing me power or fuel just yet.... I may have a problem up here."

Another spark-sound, from behind him. He whirls in place, but it's gone. "Correction," he says. "I DEFINITELY have a problem here."

Hfolraw manages a slight smile as the Aorlakht-class speeder makes a low, tight turn around a clump of trees. A slight break in the tangle of brush ahead is the only place the native should be able to maneuver his mount through the wall of heavy foliage. *He'll have to come to us!*, thinks Hfolraw, and the smile grows. Hryawi will have her specimen to interrogate, which will please her. And if she is pleased, the Admiral will be pleased.

Quietly, the speeder settles into the grassy clearing. Almost on cue, Grob and his terrified gara crash out of the brush, only a dozen meters in front of the Aslan craft.

*I have you now!* exhorts Hfolraw mentally, as he quickly opens the speeder hatch and rises from his seat. A flash of light underfoot causes him to suddenly shield his eyes as he steps out of the small recon vehicle...

... and onto the cold, hard deck of the speeder
hangar of the Trakh.

"Hleea!!" exclaims Hfolraw. "What trick is this!?!" Hryawi sits stunned in the passenger seat of the speeder and only now it beginning to take note of her new surroundings. A single whispered oath escapes her lips, the Aslan equivalent of "HOLY SHIT!!"

Hfolraw nervously glances about the hangar, as if searching for the owner of the unseen hand that snatched them across thousands of kilometers of space. In a ritual move as old as Aslan history, he drops to one knee and bows his head.

"Khaofiy," he intones. "I submit to the stronger force." Then slowly rising to his feet, he reaches for his commdot.

"Bridge, Hfolraw. Something has just returned us to the speeder hangar." Hfolraw pauses, realizing that in flight, he has no duty station, and that his stateroom in the pinnace is a little far to walk. "Permission to come to bridge?"

Hryawi slowly opens the hatch on her side and gingerly steps from the still vehicle. "The technology..." she murmurs, then falls silent, totally at a loss for words.

Hfolraw ponders the power that could teleport the speeder and its crew across that distance. Once he earned a place as an officer in the Emperor's Aslan Guard. Since he renounced his allegiance to an Imperium that no longer existed, he has had to fight battles no less vicious, if not as bloody, to earn a place in the Hierate, and as a member of his new clan. He has yet to meet an enemy he did not feel he could master. Yet now this scarred veteran trembles slightly as he awaits his commander's reply.

"What kind of problem?" Slide demands over the intercom.

The wind brushes Aaron's mustache again.

"Dunno...." Aaron frowns. "Lingering damage from Leadfoot's little ballet with Our Vargr of the Flying Fists? Sabotage? I've got what *sounds* like static discharge activity somewhere. Intermittent but getting worse...."

"HELL'S BELLS! I'M ON MY WAY UP!" As Slide clicks off, Aaron notices the wind again... a gust of crosswind, from a direction where there was no vent grating....

The door to main Engineering slides open to reveal a most unusual sight: Doctor Van Der Merwe being held gently but firmly in the tentacles of a warbot. Christian lightly hops to the ground as the odd couple crosses into the room; OSF-4 hovers in the background as unobtrusive as it is possible for a warbot to be.

Christian dashes for the control station, offering a short greeting to Slide as he slides into the next seat. "Hello, Mister Winkley, we're short of crew, so I'm here to help matters out." He frowns in concern as he looks at the main holomonitors, then with a few quick taps on his controls, establishes a link with the bridge sensors and sets up a secondary tactical status holo, so that he can keep abreast of the tactical situation.

"VDM to Ger." barks Christian. "Am in control of Engineering. Full maneuver power, aye. Will advise as thrusters come online. Am monitoring tactical situation from down here. Good luck. VDM out."

As he finishes his message to the bridge, Christian turns to see Wrinkley hustling for the door.

"Damn glad to see you, Doc." exclaims Slide. "I gotta run. Frieder got a problem in Jump Engineering and we don't need the J-drives crapping out on us now." As he hits the doorway, he pauses and adds, "And, by the way. It's 'Wrinkley', not 'Winkley'!" Then he's gone.

Kimball Redd, sitting at a rury-rigged second acceleration couch, where the engineering console was originally designed for just the one engineer, stops in surprise as the fleet & explosions light up the sensor displays. His fingers idly wander over the controls, calling up system status for various parts of the ship, while his mind is trying to come to terms with this latest shock.

Resignation shows in his face, his shoulders slump & he sighs deeply. He looks round at Ralf and the Doctor:

"Time to go, I think."

"Pater," Aaron barks. "Run back the securecam a minute or two. Where did those arcs come from?"

_I have no visual record of the first. The second came from the Number Eight Panel._

"Number Eight... hell, that's the fuel feed system!" Aaron strides over to the panel and begins undoing an access plate. He freezes when he hears another arc, from behind him. "Pater," he calls, "Where was THAT?"

_Panel Number Four,_ Pater replies easily.

"That's clear across the room! How--" Aaron never finishes his sentence. Another spark arcs across the panel near his face, and he jerks away from it instinctively, dropping the access plate with a clang. He begins to slowly back away, tense, searching for the slightest noise, the briefest glimmer....

The wind returns, gusting harder this time. Aaron shivers, and turns--

"Hey!"

"YIKES!" Aaron leaps a foot in the air and whirls to face Slide, who's just come running in. Slide skids to a stop and appraises Aaron critically. "Nice jammies," he snickers.

"You have a problem with my underwear, MISTER Wrinkely?" Aaron says with a nobleman's sneer, towering over the smaller man. The rising wind blows his long hair about him like a banner.

"No," Slide laughs. "Whatever turns y--" His eyes bug out and he stares past Aaron. "What the hell---?"

Aaron turns around, and sucks in his breath in surprise. Other sparks are leaping from place to place on the machinery, fizzling and vanishing. The wind is now steady, blowing at them from the center of the room, and getting stronger by the second. It doesn't smell like ship's air, either--

"Hey! What's that SMELL?" Slide gasps. "Not just ozone...."

"It's like... SAND," Aaron frowns. "DESERTS smell like that. Arid, dry..."

Goughzar barely has time to grab for the holo-console and throw an arm across his face, in a futile attempt to shield himself, and by extension his ship, from the glaring disk which suddenly looms directly ahead. Before 'Zar can even begin to attempt a breaking maneuver, the disk is gone. This is the first thing he notices. The second thing is the Alcyon, floating serenely off the port beam, less than two hundred meters away.

"Pater," Slide whispers, "You recording this?"

_Yes,_ Pater replies. _My recording apparatus is suffering from some interference, however. The picture quality may be poor._

"Engineering!" Grey's voice sounds desperate. "The Commander wants--"

"SHADDUP, GREY!" Slide howls. "We got sumpin' WEIRD going on down here!"

"Pater, put the securecam on the Bridge holo!" Aaron snaps.

Both men back toward the door, but neither can tear his eyes away from the spectacle. As they watch, the sparks grow in size and frequency. They arc over each other, dancing across the machinery. Minor subsystems crash and reboot all over Engineering as the sparks jump and dance across vital circuits. The wind is now strong enough to buffet them backwards.

As the sparking reaches a crescendo, sparks begin to leap across the center of the room toward one another. A jump is made. Then another, and another. Soon, ALL of the sparks are leaping into the center of the room, forming a network of lines converging on a single point, which glows blue in the dim room. The sparks gain in intensity and power, and the wind rises to a howling tornado, blowing both men back against the consoles, covering their eyes against the glare.

"WHAT IS IT?" Slide has to yell over the wind.

"I DON'T KNOW," Aaron bellows. "IT LOOKS LIKE--"

The sparks suddenly detach themselves, forming a perfect sphere in the center of the room, some three meters in diameter. As Slide and Aaron watch in utter disbelief, the sparks disconnect themselves from the center point as it expands, forming a hollow sphere of howling wind and lambent purple flame.

"--LIKE A JUMP-OUT!"

Only Moira is left to witness the abrupt transition of the ship, and she makes no comment, intent on logging data on the phenomenon against a future time when she may again carry those who would examine it.

In rapid succession, a small army of gates marshall around the Alcyon, winking into existance like eyes opening in space. As they vanish they leave smaller ships in their wake. Westwind, Kingfisher, Talisman, Gemini Arbiter, Aurora, the Trakh and its shuttle, even the wreck of the Bernoulli are left in a loose cluster around the Alcyon, like moths near a flame. Even a small, five-meter long cylinder, one end of which is badly scorched and deformed, floats among them.

In Engineering, both Slide and Aaron are transfixed by the sight before them-- a glowing sphere of crackling energy where a moment before there had been nothing. A Jump-out.

"INSIDE ANOTHER GRID?!" Slide screams. "THAT'S IMPOSS--"

Then, with a sudden wrench in their guts, Slide and Aaron feel the Alcyon heave under their feet. The light and sound are extinguished in an instant, and for one brief moment, in the sudden dark silence, they see the impossible: a man in a uniform of some kind, standing on what looks like it was once a solid stone floor but was scooped out with a giant, curved knife. One hand is clutching his face, and the other is resting against a section of wall, also scooped into a curved surface. Exposed, sheared-off sections of pipe and cable are visible behind the wall-- one jets out a puff of steam, another a dribble of water, another gives off a feeble spark. It's as if a spherical section of a stone corridor were removed by some invisible hand, and then placed in mid-air....

...and then gravity takes over, and the entire deck rings with the clang as both pieces of stone fall to the deck and shatter into rubble. The man crumples atop what used to be the piece of floor, managing to at least stay on his knees. He lunges unsteadily to his feet.

Pulling a 9mm out of its holster with lightning speed, he heels to the right, dropping to a crouch, and yells out, "You are in a restricted area, scum!" He then peels off three rounds into a part of the jump drive, which ricochete wildly off into the engineering spaces.

A confused looks appears on his face, as if he were seeing his surroundings for the first time. Before he can do anything else, however, he falls to the floor unconscious, the weapon still nestled tightly in his grip, with the safety off.

The echoes of the crash and gunfire reverberate throughout the Alcyon. And then there is silence.

Once again, the voice that greeted the visitors upon their arrival speaks, but without the ease and authority it previously possessed.

*I apologize for the interference. It is not my way, but I must protect myself and I cannot spare the energy to protect all of you as well. I hope we will have the opportunity to meet again, once this situation is resolved. Farewell.*

The voice ceases abruptly.

Then the stars all vanish, leaving only a featureless gray sky.

Ayrlathi swings open the wide wooden shutters atop the arzeth danunduln and looks out. It is sunfade -- Ayrlathi's favourite time of day. At least it used to be, when he had a favourite time of day. An irridescent hipsir flits through the sky in front of him, trilling its roosting song. Ayrlathi ignores it.

In past times he would have looked out over the fields of taspeln, or down onto the town below. But now he can only look up into the sky. His tendrils lay flat down on his head, motionless save for an occasional wistful twitch.

Ayrlathi whispers, so quietly that it is barely audible above the gentle summer breeze, and yet it is a whisper that -- in spirit at least -- carries far up into the evening twilight.

"Come back soon."

Almost as if in answer to his whisper, there is a knock on the door.

Dejectedly, Ayrlathi turns from the silent stars above and opens the door. His eyes go wide and his tendrils stand straight up in utter shock. The voice in his head is friendly and full of welcome.

*Uh, hi! I'm Ian, and this is Richard, and this is Ferdy. We were told by the Ring that we would find a friendly welcome here....?*

END OF TURN 92.02

Copyright © 1997, 1998