« I can’t believe how fucking stupid I was! » wails Mickey.
« Now what? » Tara demands.
Patrick replies in that amazingly smooth, unflustered voice that only he can manage, « We’re investigating. We’ve just emanated Lennox. We’re waiting for a report. »
« Lennox? Which one is Lennox? »
« You haven’t met him. He’s a forensic alchemist. »
When I close my eyes, I can see exactly what Lennox is doing. There’s a metal cylinder rolling around on the floor of the spacecraft. He picks it up, holds it in his hand, and history unravels.
« The chemical composition shifted exactly 13.17 minutes ago, » he says. « It triggered at the exact moment the mandala was complete. »
« We knew it was set to activate under unknown circumstances, and that we didn’t understand exactly how it worked, » says Mickey. « So what did I do? Put it in my fucking pocket, that’s what. Because it’s made of trans-universal metals, I and I couldn’t transform it when I came inside of the pleroma. »
« Something about that particular pattern of nul-energy caused a state change in the device, » continues Lennox. « Fortunately, I think that all it did was to send a signal. »
« Send a signal to who? » asks Tara.
« I wish we knew, » I murmur, « but I have a feeling we’ll find out. »
« I can’t see anything, » says Lens. « All I can see is our arrival at the BGG476Y5 system. I can see Templeton easing the star back into place. »
« Excuse me, » says Tara. « Is there something that I’ve missed? »
« I told you to talk to Cüinn, » says Davy.
Ailann assumes the unenviable task of explaining. Tara is not happy. « So now we’re facing a stellar disaster. Is that why Davy felt such a push to complete the emanations? »
« Um, » says Davy. « No. »
This comes as a surprise to me – it was the logical assumption.
« I can’t explain, » Davy says miserably. « We’re waiting for something else. The shadow. »
« We’re almost at our destination, » says Lennox. « But I can barely stand. Are you sure we’ve got enough energy to do this? »
« I can handle it, » says Templeton. « Let’s fix the problem as soon as possible, before anyone on Skyvale notices that they’re on the verge of Doomsday. »
I grasp at the sleeve of Ailann’s robe, trying to get his attention. I’m certain it’s a trap, but I don’t want to alarm Tara.
« Of course, it’s a trap, » says Ailann. « We’ve been lured away from our home system to fix a problem that only we can fix, a problem which will cause a public relations disaster and an economic collapse if we don’t, a problem which will take all of our strength to remedy. »
« Expect an attack immediately following, » says Cillian. « Can you handle that, Templeton? Because I don’t think we’ll have the strength to emanate a combat expert like me or Mickey. »
« Do I have a choice? » asks Templeton, smiling. « Let’s just do this. »
« At least, I can give you this, » says Tara. A box market #86 appears in her hand.
Templeton opens it, removing a pouch – no, it’s one of the swag bags from Quennel’s fashion show, except embroidered with a “T” instead of a “Q.” He starts laughing. « Did anyone for a moment think I would receive something to make this easier? »
« Take it for luck, » suggests Wynne.
« As a token of your lady, » adds Vassali.
Templeton clutches the bag and emanates.
He’s remarkably cool. He places the bag exactly in the center of the communications console, then sits in front of it, his elbows against the surface, fingertips pressed against corresponding fingertips. I can feel the smooth focus of his thoughts as he directs his gaze towards the intersection of his hands. The last time Ailann did something like this, he had to fortify himself with a good belt of liquid courage. Then again, Ailann was thinking of all the people who would die if he failed. Templeton cares about only one thing: getting the job done.
Apparently, a compassionate god has its disadvantages.
« There’s something coming, » says Lens. « Something I can see, and something I can’t. »
« It’s that shadow again, » says Ace. « It’s obscuring my view of the shortest path to victory. It’s a cold shadow which makes my eyes freeze just to look at it. »
Meanwhile, Templeton is completely absorbed, creating all the matter he can concentrate in a spot smaller than a grain of sand. He’s getting constant feedback from the engineering and science team about mass and placement. This isn’t the Domha’vei; Universe Prime is thicker, more stable here. Our one advantage is that spacetime has already been weakened by the hole punched into it on the opposite side of the star.
« I’m just afraid that we don’t know enough about the properties of the nul-universe, » says Owen. « Maybe we should’ve asked the SongLuminants for help. »
« I don’t trust them for a minute, » says Aran. « Even though they’re supposed to be our allies. »
« I’m pretty sure they’re not behind this, » says Lucius. « It just doesn’t feel like the sort of thing they’d do. »
« For one thing, our enemy has been pretty careful to limit casualties, » says Cillian. « The only deaths have been the corrupt SSOps agents. The SongLuminants couldn’t give a Floatfish fart about that. »
« You’re not going to believe this, » says Lens. « I can see who it is. »
So can Templeton, as our mysterious adversary has just materialized. It’s the ELFF.
The ELFF?
« Just a moment, » says Templeton, addressing her. « I’ve got my hands full right now. »
The ELFF pirouettes in a cascade of rainbows that indicates she has the time.
« I never did trust that bitch, » mutters Tara.
« I can help, » says Rainier. « I can hear it. »
It takes me a moment to understand, but Templeton gets it immediately. Rainier perceives stellar phenomena through hearing, not scent as most of us do. It gives him a unique perspective.
« There, » he says. « That creak, like a house has shifted. It should be all right now. »
Templeton turns to face the ELFF, trying not to show his exhaustion. Both gestures are hollow; neither one needs a face to understand what’s happening. The ELFF breaks into an elaborate dance accompanied by a show of lights and rainfall.
« She’s saying that we ought to be grateful, » Malachi interprets. « She knew the truth about us way back when the Combine first encountered the Cu’endhari. But if she’d told the SongLuminants, they would’ve erased all the Cu’endhari species without benefit of a trial. »
Weren’t we just discussing the ELFF? Oh yes, that strange movie, the one that reminded Tara of The Hound of the Baskervilles. But the movie wasn’t really that similar, except for the theme of a demon dog, something that goes as far back as the myth of Cerberus…
Before I can manage a cry of warning, the shadow arrives and lunges at Templeton.
It’s huge, and it has fangs, and it seems to be made of light slammed together at oblique angles, light which pulses in a way to hurt your eyes and make you nauseous and perhaps provoke a seizure. Nothing else about it can be described; it’s alien, wholly alien. It’s like crashing your head into a wall of hatred.
« It’s not alien, » says Dominic. « It’s a Cu’enashti. »
« That thing is no Cu’enashti! » Ailann protests.
« Trust him, Ailann, » Marius urges. « Dominic is a biological expert. »
« It’s theoretically possible, » I realize. « Nothing says a Cu’enashti’s Chosen must be human. »
Before it can sink its teeth into Templeton, he transforms into the mothman. And then it’s pain beyond pain, and we howl as it rips a chunk of nul-energy out of our arm.
I and I pulls back, and the ELFF smiles at him. There’s no need for any more dancing; they can communicate directly.
« She’s asking us if we remember Species 25, » says Malachi, « the species originally from NGC2419 that nobody talks about because they were even worse than the Great Dread. »
« I thought that Species 25 was erased, » says Mickey.
« It was, » says Dominic. « Species 25 was neither animal nor plant but existed in symbiotic union with a kind of mold that grew on its reproductive organs. It was erased because it was completely xenophobic and wanted to destroy all other life that it encountered in order to purify the universe. The only other sentient they would tolerate is the Cu’enashti, partly because we could mimic the appearance of Species 25, and partly because we were too useful to eliminate. »
« If it’s Cu’enashti, there must be a tree somewhere housing the emanation, » says Cillian. « The correct strategy is to attack the tree. »
« No, » says Dominic. « The anchor being used as the entry into our universe is actually the genital fungus. »
« This is a new frontier in disgust, » says Evan. « But why would we bond to something like that? »
« If there were no other forms of sentience nearby, it would be preferable to being trapped in the nul-universe, » says Ailann.
In the meantime, I and I has managed to get a chokehold on the creature, but it’s scratching His wings to shreds with its vicious claws. He’s also sending a direct message to the ELFF which can be interpreted, more-or-less, as WHAT IS YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM?
I have a useful realization: « If that thing is really a Cu’enashti, it has to be drawing nul-energy from somewhere. »
The rip that Templeton just created, says Jamey. That mold doesn’t need roots in the nul-universe. It can just absorb nul-energy directly.
The ELFF sways and flickers. « She’s saying that there are a number of these creatures left, » says Malachi, « but few ever reached adult form, like this one. It swallowed 141 nul-entities before it finally collected the requisite 103 pseudo-colors, so it’s considerably stronger than we are. »
« That’s heinously unbalanced, » says Dermot.
« It doesn’t seem like it gives two fucks, » says Cillian.
The creature breaks loose of I and I’s hold and charges Him directly. He barely escapes by jumping over the top of its head, but His wings are too damaged to navigate, and there’s too little energy for Him to reconstitute the sensitive filaments. He crashes ungracefully in front of the ELFF.
« I’m looking for a weak point, » says Balin. « It doesn’t seem to have one. »
I and I rolls across the floor, but the space in the small ship’s cockpit is too constraining, and the jaws clamp around His foot. There’s pain, incredible pain, followed by a shift in energy. The mothman has reverted to his original form, footless and faceless.
The ELFF claps her hands delightedly, shimmering to indicate that despite the amusement value of metamorphosis, we can’t run forever. She smiles, and her smile is exquisitely malefic, reminding us that beauty is not always kind.
« She’s saying that it’s so rude of us to run from it since it’s spent such a long time tracking us down, » says Malachi. « She says that we should be grateful for all the things she did to provoke us into completing our mandala, or we would’ve really been unprepared. »
« Um, I might be missing something, » says Cüinn, « but if she hadn’t poked that hole, or made us poke another hole, that creature wouldn’t be able to exist here. »
« How does it even know about us in the first place? » I add. « It shouldn’t be able to detect us any more than we could detect it. »
« The ELFF says that she’s responsible for that, » says Malachi. « The minute that it found out about our existence, it resolved to destroy us. »
« Fucking screw that bitch with a volcano condom, » roars Cillian.
« But why? » cries Evan. « We can live and let live. »
« It bonded to a species which was consumed with revulsion for all other species, » I reply. « It bonded to a being which was disgusted by its existence. And now that species is extinct, and its Chosen dead. Can you imagine how bitter it is? »
« But why us? »
« Because your Chosen loves you, » says Tara quietly. « In a heart composed of pure hatred, it holds a special place just for you. »
The creature leaps across the room, raking its claws deeply into I and I’s thorax. This is more than just painful. We’re bleeding energy, and the only source we have for regeneration is little Canopus.
« We’re losing, » says Mickey.
« Unacceptable, » says Aran.
If I and I had eyes, he’d be glaring at the ELFF with a look that said AND WHY AREN’T YOU AFRAID OF THIS THING?
The ELFF spins an elaborate reply. « She’s saying that because she has no physical existence in this universe or the nul-universe, it can’t really hurt her. Also, she knows the secret for eliminating Species 25. »
No physical existence? Then she’s just a beautiful illusion?
I and I hovers unsteadily, backing slowly towards the communications console. A retreat? There’s no place to hide. And then I see it, a small bag made of aqua fabric woven from the silk of the blue angel moth. Before the hellhound can move, he grabs and opens it, pouring its contents out upon the console: a bath salt shaped like an oak leaf, a certificate for the café, a pair of cufflinks made with Skarsium crystals from the Lodehole Mine, and Haight’s glasses.
« There’s one problem solved, » I mutter.
I and I spreads his wings, gathering up whatever power he can immediately absorb through the cufflinks. The crystals are small, but we’re very close to a portal into the nul-universe, and it’s better than nothing. Unfortunately, our adversary can also use the crystals, and the beast glowers darkly, a ripple of shadow bristling like prickly hairs on its back.
I and I folds his wings, and Dermot appears, crouching on a chair.
Dermot?!? No, not Dermot, the most beautiful, perfect, sublime…
Oh.
Dermot jumps off the chair just as the creature lunges for him. It slams into the communications console, knocking equipment loose, and there’s a momentary flicker and dimming of the indicators before the backup systems kick in. He scrambles across the command station, ducking behind an instrument panel. He’s got one advantage – the small size of the flight deck makes it difficult for the huge creature to maneuver. He’s more suited for evasion here than the mothman – but if that creature nails him, without alchemy to repair his body, he’s had it.
The ELFF raises her hands in distress, gesturing a wilt of sad flowers. « She’s saying that it’s a pity that such a pretty one has to die, » interprets Malachi. « She’s saying how mean it is of us to make her watch that. »
« And that’s the weak point, » murmurs Balin.
« The prophecy, » says Stavros. « “One thing prevails against darkest foe; the horn of the beautiful one to show.” »
Dermot’s face falls. “You have got to be kidding.”
« I’m afraid not, » I reply. « It’s time to It’s time to expose our hand…well, not the hand, exactly… »
Dermot does possibly the most improbable, inappropriate and dangerous thing a man can do when faced with a murderous, multi-fanged alien monster: he drops trou.
The horror that was once a Cu’enashti leaps for the kill. At that moment, the ELFF’s expression changes, her eyes widened with the mystical wonder that inevitably results from the sight of the beauty spot hidden beneath Dermot’s foreskin. She sighs the kind of sigh that would rend universes with lamentation and reaches into her pocket. Her sublimely elegant fingers sprinkle sparkling particles. It looks like fairy dust, but it’s physical – and it smells absolutely awful.
Dermot dodges the creature; it crashes into the command chair and flails, gasping and thrashing. Dermot is also wracked with coughing, but he’s still on his feet.
It’s a fungicide, says Jamey. It’s killing that mold on contact.
The ELFF stares at Dermot with imaginary eyes pooled with the loveliness of a thousand sunsets. « She’s saying that her question has been answered, » says Malachi. « Judging by the behavior of their Cu’enashti, humanity is far more dangerous than Species 25. »
« Oh fuck, » says Tara. « The whole human race is screwed. If the SongLuminants find out, they’ll probably come out of retirement and go on an erasure binge. »
Dermot strides resolutely towards the ELFF – as resolutely as possible with his jeans around his ankles. He’d probably look more intimidating if his dick weren’t hanging out. « You won’t tell anyone about this? »
The ELFF sighs. « She’s saying that she could never betray her love for Dermot, even if it results in the destruction of all the species in the Combine of Sentients, which she thinks is quite likely given the wily and unstable nature of humanity. »
« You won’t do anything crazy, like try to kill Tara? » he persists.
« She says that jealousy is ugly, and she could hardly begrudge the existence of a creature, no matter how small and insignificant, which brought the beautiful Dermot into being. It would be like trying to remove the grain of sand from the center of the pearl. »
« In that case, » says Dermot, « I’m going home. I’m going alone. »
The ELFF gestures dramatically. « She’s saying that she’ll respect his wishes for now so that she can wallow beautifully in the tragedy of her unrequited love. She’s saying that she’ll see him again once she feels her sensitivities have reached the optimum level of poignancy. »
« She’s going to be the stalker from hell, I know it, » mutters Cillian darkly.
All is still, save for the sound of muted weeping. It’s Davy. « I was played, » he moans. « I was totally played! »
« What are you talking about? » says Wynne, a grin spreading across his face. « We won! »
« At least, » says Suibhne. « We didn’t lose anything that we didn’t want to lose. »