When we hit that, the amount of energy we contain is going to blow a hole clean through to the other side,the personality said shakily.
There is no other side,dariat said. Just as there is no hope.every part of his body ached from the climb up through the air duct. He had forced himself to keep going, at first hiking up the slope, then as the gravity fell off, pulling himself along a near-vertical shaft with his arms.
Then why do you keep going?
Instinct and stupidity, I suppose. If I can delay entry into the melange by a day, then that’s a day less suffering.
A day out of eternity? Does that matter?
To me, now. Yes. It matters. I’m human enough to be terrified.
Then you’d better hurry.
The southern endcap was within twenty kilometres of the melange. Ahead of it, the surface was churning with activity. Huge peaks were jabbing up as melting bodies climbed on top of each other so they could be the first to touch the shell and feast on the life-energy within.
Dariat reached the end of the duct and commanded the muscle membrane to open. They air-swam out into one of the main corridors leading to the hub chamber.
Tolton had fastened his lightstick to the launcher, as he’d seen Erentz do. He swept the beam round the black corridor in an alert fashion. “Any bad guys around here?”
“No. In any case, they’re all waiting for the impact. Nothing’s moving in the habitat.”
“I’m not surprised. I can taste the horror; it’s physical, like I’ve overloaded on downer activants. Shit.” He smiled brokenly at Dariat. “I’m frightened, man. Really frightened. Is there any way a soul can die here, die completely? I don’t want to join the melange. Not that.”
“I’m sorry. It can’t be done. You have to live.”
“Fuck! What kind of a universe is this anyway?”
Dariat led Tolton into the darkened hub chamber and held his hand high, letting the energy pulse recklessly. The resulting burst of light revealed the geometry: silent doors leading to the spindle commuter cabs, hoop avenues down to the tube train stations. He aimed himself at a door leading to the engineering section and kicked off.
The corridors on the other side were metal, lined with grab hoops. They slithered along them quickly, using the manual controls to get past airlock hatches. The air was freezing but breathable. Tolton’s teeth started chattering.
“Here we go,” Dariat said. The escape pod’s circular hatch was open. He somersaulted in, vaguely unnerved by the familiar layout. Twelve acceleration couches were laid out around him. He chose the one under the solitary instrument panel and started flicking switches. Same sequence as last time. The hatch hinged shut automatically. Lights came on with reluctance, and the environment pumps started to whine.
Tolton held his hands up in front of the grille, catching the warm air. “God, it was
“Strap in, we’re about to leave.”
The personality watched the tip of the southern endcap touch the surface of the melange. I am proud of all of you,it told rubra’s descendants.
Fluid cratered away from the impact, then rushed back to slam against the shell. Hundreds of thousands of berserk souls surfed it inwards and penetrated the polyp to immerse themselves in the magnificent tide of life- energy coursing within, absorbing it directly. The temperature difference between fluid and polyp was too great for the habitat’s weakened shell to withstand. The existing fissures flexed wildly as thermal stresses tightened their grip.
Dariat activated the pod’s jettison sequence. Explosive bolts cut away the berth’s outer shielding, and five of the solid rockets fired. They were flung clear of the spindle, racing out level with the surface of the melange.
Goodbye,the personality said. the accompanying sorrow brought tears to Dariat’s eyes.
Valisk burst apart as if a fusion bomb had detonated inside. Thousands of human souls came fluttering out of the billowing core of hot gas and crumbling polyp slabs, indestructible phantoms naked in the darkness. As with all life in the dark continuum, they sank into the melange and began their suffering.
The solid rocket burn ended, leaving the escape pod in freefall. Dariat looked out of the small port, seeing very little. He twisted the joystick, firing the cold gas thrusters to roll the pod. Grey smears slashed past outside.
“I can see the melange, I think,” he reported faithfully. In his mind he was aware of the wailing and torment gushing from the awesome conglomeration of pitiful souls. It chilled his own resolution. There could be only one fate here.
Amid the misery were several steely strands of more purposeful and malignant thought. One of them was growing stronger. Nearer, Dariat realized. “Something’s out there.” He tilted the joystick again, spinning the pod quickly. Pale blooms of light emerged deep inside the nebula, silhouetting a speck that whirled and shook as it arrowed towards them.
“Shit, it’s one of the Orgathe.” He and Tolton stared mutely at each other.
The street poet twitched feebly. “I can’t even say it’s been fun.”
“There are five solid rockets left. We can fire them and fly back into the nebula.”
“Won’t we just wind up here again?”
“Yes. Eventually. But it’ll be another day or two out of the melange.”
“I’m not sure it makes that much difference to me now.”
“Then again, we could fire them when the Orgathe reaches us, fry the bastard.”
“It’s only doing what we’d do.”
“Last choice, we can fire the rockets to take us into the melange.”
“Into! What use will that be?”
“None whatsoever. Even if we don’t break apart on impact we’ll melt away into the fluid over a few days.”
“Or fly straight through to the other side.”
“There isn’t one.”
“You never know unless you try. Besides, this way has the most style.”
“Style, huh.”
They both grinned.
Dariat rolled the pod again, getting a rough alignment on the melange. He fired two of the solid rockets. Any more, and they really would crack open when they reached it.
The cold will probably do it anyway, he thought.
There was three seconds of five-gee acceleration, then they hit. The deceleration jolt was fearsome, flinging Tolton against the couch’s straps. He groaned at the pain, bracing himself for the worst.
But the pod’s thermal coating held, defying the devastating subcryonic temperature of the melange. The pod juddered sluggishly as its rocket motors continued to fire, thrusting them deeper and deeper below the surface.
