Mobius (17 page)

The Miner inspected the tavern’s patrons. “Forcing me to reveal our plan in public would be careless.”

“Easily solved,” said Orsteen, rising from the table. He led the company to a back storage room. “You may now speak without worry of enemy ears.”

Apparently satisfied, the Scion of Sensimion reached into his bag and produced a small disc. He held it on his palm and it cast a hologram of the solar system into the upper air of the storage room. He moved a searching finger through the planets. “Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, the outer planets, and here, beyond Pluto, lurks the source of the Obelisks.”

It was a breathtaking spherical construct.

Morion stood directly below it. “It looks like some kind of alien craft.”

“It’s an interstellar vessel, as big as Mercury,” replied the Scion of Sensimion.

Hovering on one side of the vessel was an orb of blue energy a quarter of the sphere’s diameter. I didn’t know what it was but it was something powerful—a technology thousands of years ahead of us. Its surface pulsed, swirled and shifted. It was like a condensed ball of pure energy, somehow contained and harnessed by the giant vessel. “What’s that?”

“We think it’s a dimensional gateway engine. A lot like yours, Theron. But powerful enough to create a dimensional fissure that could accommodate the planet-sized vessel.”

“It’s beautiful,” I uttered.

“And the Obelisks came from this planet-sized vessel?” said Allienora.

“Indeed,” replied the Scion of Sensimion. “And this is what we want to destroy with the weapon.”

Orsteen pointed to Thirm Bastile’s case. “Even with such a powerful weapon, how can you be certain it’ll be destroyed?”

“Unlike the Obelisks, it’s not out of phase.” The Scion of Sensimion adjusted the hologram, enlarging the vessel and revealing the details of its beautifully constructed surface. “Also, we’ve detected openings that’ll allow us passage within, where we hope to deposit the weapon to ensure maximum damage.”

I shrugged. “Even if you destroy this vessel, how do you know its destruction will affect the Fume’s plans?”

The Scion of Sensimion turned off the hologram. “I guarantee nothing. If you insist on questioning our counterattack, do so on the way to my ship. We must move forward.”

Orsteen settled our bill with Glum and we departed The Scented Slug. We followed the Scion of Sensimion through caverns and tunnels, and eventually boarded a small conveyance that flew us through deep tunnels to the far reaches of Ironwrought.

We arrived in a secluded community of metal habitation modules. The townspeople went about their daily lives with a strange calmness. I noticed a pair of Miners in the process of assembling a new module. They worked together in an unnatural silence; neither seemed to acknowledge the other’s presence. Yet they worked with a steady precision. Nearby, in the street, a group of children played a game of gravityball with obvious disinterest. Something was definitely wrong with these people.

We followed the Scion of Sensimion to a habitation module built into one of the cavern walls. We ascended the front porch, where sat an elderly Miner. He greeted us without concern as we walked past him and entered the module.

We approached the rear of the module and came to a dining room, where sat a family of four Miners eating dinner. The man of the house—a humungous Miner—rose to his feet and angrily protested the intrusion.

“Our apologies,” said Orsteen, who then addressed the Scion of Sensimion who’d led us within. “Why do we disturb these people?”

“Don’t worry over this man’s feelings,” said the Scion of Sensimion. “He’s programmed to carry on with such a performance.”

“What do you mean?” asked Allienora.

“None of these people are real. They’re simulacra.”

Morion approached the massive Miner and, out of nowhere, grabbed his nose.

“He’s telling the truth,” said Morion. “His nose is the texture of nano-intelligent matter.”

Orsteen stiffened. “Are you saying this community of Far Reach Miners is fake?”

“It’s been the perfect camouflage for our secret outpost. Now, follow me.” The Scion of Sensimion walked to a wall of shelves holding ornate dishes, crystal goblets, and an assortment of curios. Without hesitation, he walked, unhindered, through the mass of the shelves and disappeared.

The rest of the group followed him through and arrived in a secret cavern. At the center sat a stunning spaceship plated in radiant scales. About its perimeter were people with pale faces, thin limbs, and hyper-blue synthetic eyes.

Orsteen pointed a scolding finger at the Scion of Sensimion. “This is illegal use of Mercurial territory. Unlicensed excavation of underground territories is a very dangerous and careless crime.”

“Justifying this outpost would take too long. I can only offer my apology.” The Scion of Sensimion stepped into a simulacrum holding cistern.

“You too are a simulacrum?” I asked.

“Not altogether.” His face and body began to lose color and cohesion as an outer layer of nano-intelligent matter melted away, revealing a frail female figure within. She removed a mask that allowed her to breathe, speak, and see, and exposed the synthetic blue eyes and pale features of a Scion of Sensimion.

Morion licked his lips. “Such an ugly disguise for such a strangely beautiful woman.”

“My name’s Rozlyn,” she said, ignoring Morion’s creepy comment. “Since Sensimion’s death on the Brahman Station, I’ve been in charge of the efforts against the Fume.”

I took a step toward the ship. “Will this ship avoid detection when we near the alien vessel?”

“This is the
Fractal Skylark.
It’s equipped with an advanced cloaking technology we’ve been developing for the past decade.”

“How is it,” asked Allienora, “that your little group has achieved so many technological advancements? Surely such pursuits aren’t cheap.”

“Everything we’ve accomplished can be credited to Sensimion. He was brilliant. If you posed him a problem, he could summon a solution by desire alone. In addition to being the source of our intellectual inspirations, Sensimion also financially supplemented our efforts against the Fume. I’ll let you in on a secret. Before Sensimion discovered the Fume, he developed the biotechnology of neural implants, which all of us use for an easier life. Still, to this day, the proceeds from this achievement are the source of our financial independence.”

One of Rozlyn’s colleagues approached the group. “Are these the devices to complete the weapon?”

“They are,” said Rozlyn. “Take them aboard the ship, verify their quality, and then couple them to the auxiliary unit.”

Thirm Bastile held his diamond-fiber case tightly. “What of my payment?”

“Don’t worry,” said Rozlyn. “My colleague will bring your money when the device is verified.”

Thirm breathed deeply and finally released his case. “Very well.”

Orsteen scowled as he scrutinized the secret base. “What else goes on in this place besides the construction of awful weapons?”

“I’ll show you. Follow me.” Rozlyn gave us a tour of the secret outpost. It was bigger than I initially thought. She led us into another cavern full of people sitting in front of view-panels. “This is the heart of our intelligence, where we monitor the Fume’s eighty-six manifestations presently on Earth.”

“How do you obtain such thorough surveillance?” asked Allienora.

“We’ve hidden numerous telescopes around the solar system, all with sights on Earth. Additionally, we’ve infiltrated nearly every computer system on Earth, giving us eyes and ears into any location with some level of technology.”

I approached one of the monitoring stations. An attendant studied the image of a man engulfed in the sapphire-blue aura that betrayed his human disguise. The attendant logged the Fume’s every word and action.

My stomach twisted.
The Fume. My torturer. My nemesis. I need my drug.

“What of the Fume’s human minions?” asked Allienora. “Do you track their movements as well?”

“We do,” said Rozlyn. “However, they prove more elusive, since, unlike the Fume, they’re able to travel beyond the dimension around Earth. If we can’t track them by passive means, we send out field agents.”

“What of the nature of these minions?” asked Morion. “Are they human?”

“Honestly, we don’t know,” said Rozlyn. “Yet, we do know the most essential aspect of their nature—they bleed and die like men.”

I studied the Fume’s many manifestations, whom I knew from experience didn’t die like men. Some, as expected, were prominent figures in government and industry, while others were insignificant people commanding little influence on the world.

“What have you learned about the Fume’s manipulations?” I asked. “Are there any indications of his motive or design, Rozlyn?”

“A difficult thing to figure out, given our brief surveillance. Compared to the grand scope of the Fume’s time on Earth, we’ve seen only a fraction of his manipulations. Nevertheless, over the last three decades, we’ve seen strange behaviors from the Fume. Nearly all his recent manipulations have promoted the success of the dimensional gateway. This has been confusing, since, after all his efforts, he sabotaged the gateway. Such counterproductive behavior boggles the mind. What did the Fume accomplish? Who knows?” Rozlyn looked to me with something like optimism. “Many of us here have been waiting for you to join us, Theron. Sensimion always felt that your memories burdened upon you in the sanitarium were the key to further understanding the Fume’s greater scheme. However, Sensimion was hesitant to interfere with your work on the dimensional gateway, since the Fume seemed so intent on its completion. Before asking you to join us, he wanted to see why the dimensional gateway was so important to the Fume. When we detected that brief burst of exotic energy on the Brahman Station, Sensimion was eager to contact you and gain access to the station, so to more closely observe what was happening.”

“What’s this about a sanitarium?” asked Allienora.

“Nothing,” I said nervously. I pulled Rozlyn away from the group and spoke to her privately. “Don’t talk about my past in the sanitarium. I don’t want them to know of my close association with the Fume.”

“As you wish, but that list of names Sensimion obsessed over was an amazing assortment of historical figures. If they are indeed memories of the Fume’s past manifestations—”

“They
are
his memories,” I said. “I verified this much on my last encounter with him on Earth.”

“Astonishing!” said Rozlyn. “You must tell us about every last memory. Better, we can connect you to a neural interface, which Sensimion developed. We’ll suck every one of those memories from your head.”

There was a sudden commotion among the attendants monitoring the Fume’s manifestations.

“What’s going on?” asked Rozlyn.

A man at the nearest station worked deft fingers on a control pad. “We’ve lost all surveillance feeds. Notice how all the images are frozen in a single frame.”

“It’s impossible,” said Rozlyn. “All the telescopes send out independent signals. How could they have failed at the same time?”

An older gentleman, overseeing the stations, approached Rozlyn. “Everything’s functioning properly. These images are accurate and to the moment.”

“Then why aren’t we seeing the surveillance?”

“We are.”

“I don’t understand,” said Rozlyn.

“Observe.” The older gentleman went to one of the surveillance stations and, manipulating the telescope’s view, zoomed out so the entire Earth was displayed. “Notice the satellites orbiting the Earth. They move smoothly, in a steady, unhindered fashion.” He then zoomed in on a MegaCity of Earth and panned through the streets. We saw inhabitants of the city standing still, as if they had turned to stone. “This may sound impossible, but it appears the Obelisks have placed Earth in a field of temporal stasis.”

Everyone gazed in amazement at the view-panels.

“Temporal stasis,” repeated Rozlyn in surprise. “The Fume’s plans are advancing ahead of our counter-efforts. If you’ll excuse me, I must see to preparations.”

“What about my one billion notes?” asked Thirm Bastile.

“Here they are now,” said Rozlyn.

An individual approached, handed Thirm Bastile a bag, and then addressed Rozlyn. “The devices will conform perfectly to our needs. We’ll complete the weapon’s assembly on the way to the target.”