Galactic Mage 4: Alien Arrivals Read online

  But there was nothing there. There was no spell for him to connect to, no thread to find, no joints or loose anything. The spell was complete. There was nothing left for him to do.

  He let go of the mana for a moment and, on a lark, asked, “Turn off the spotlights, please.”

  “Why?” someone asked, but someone else hushed the lot of them watching there.

  The lights went off, and were it not for the dim luminescence of the panel on his spacesuit’s chest pack and sleeve, the darkness would have been absolute.

  He had to think for a moment, trying to recall the magic detection spell he’d learned to help Roberto last month, looking for spells or magical devices that might have been planted in or upon the Goblin Tea crates before they were placed in the Glistening Lady’s cargo hold. If the transmutation spell was still in effect and in process, or frozen mid-process, if somehow it remained as magic rather than finished physicality, then he thought he might be able to detect it. He had to know. If it truly was complete—if it truly simply wasn’t working—he would know that as well.

  He spoke the words of the spell, though he hadn’t really needed to, and in his mind he saw the wedge of mana, a shimmering pair of planes pressed together in the shape of a V. He pushed the magical fabrication into the wall of the heart chamber and watched it for signs of interactivity.

  There were none.

  He let go of the spell, and pushed himself away from the rock, his head drooping to his chest as he sat back on his heels. No evidence of anything, either way. Just nothing. Which meant his spell simply hadn’t worked.

  “So, uh, what’s the trouble, dude?” came Roberto’s inquiry. “You got everybody’s butt puckering up here. Is it going to work or what?”

  “No,” Altin answered even as Orli was scolding Roberto for his insensitivity. “I don’t know what I’ve done wrong.”

  “You haven’t done anything wrong,” Orli said. “It’s just going to take time.”

  Altin let go a long, slow breath, frustrated and resigned. In the darkness, he couldn’t see the foggy plume of it, but he knew he blew one just the same. Absently, he reached his hand out to feel it, for what reason he had no idea why, and there in the darkness before him was the gentle pulsing light of Blue Fire’s gift to him, a dim green light tracing the inside edge of his ring.

  It lay there upon his finger, like a tiny beacon of hope, the very pulse of everything that had brought them all here today. Orli’s hope and his. Blue Fire’s. The hopes of people long gone for centuries, whose only legacy was the names they gave to stars. Altin filled with it as he looked at that small green light. He knew what he needed to do.

  It was all he could do to keep the euphoria of epiphany from his voice when he said, calmly, “I do have one more idea.”

  “Yeah, like what?” said Roberto. “Because we need to wrap this show up and get out of here. I’m due to pick up another load come the end of the week.” He preempted Orli’s next remark, adding, “Not that I’m not in here with you guys until the end, of course. It’s just, you know, I get tired of restarting my ship all the time.”

  “Give me a moment,” Altin said. He turned toward the bubble where the others stood, each of them shaped by the lights blinking on their suits. “I need a pair of those small shears you people use for clipping wire.”

  There was a brief pause before Rabin said, “One pair of wire cutters coming up.” He jumped on one of the gravity sleds, and then the lights on the back of his suit vanished as he dropped below the edge of the heart chamber for a while.

  “So,” pressed Roberto in the breathless silence—being up in orbit seemed to have left him unaffected by the sphere of optimism that Altin had inspired—“you going to tell me or not? Because, I’m just saying, once you turned off all the lights, this show got pretty boring up here.”

  “Roberto,” Orli warned for yet the third time, “let the man concentrate. For all we know, he’s holding onto half a spell.”

  “Oh, I hadn’t thought about that,” Roberto said. “Sorry, bro.”

  Rabin was already rising back to level with the rest as Altin muttered that it was fine. Rabin held out the clippers and switched on his light to illuminate them in his gloved hand. “These, right?” he said.

  “Yes, those are the ones. Give them to Orli.”

  Rabin did as he was told.

  “Orli, I’m bringing you inside.”

  “All right,” she said. “I’m ready.”

  A moment after, she was at his side, quickly removing her helmet and gloves.

  He pulled off his ring and held it out to her, gripping it by the thick silver block into which he’d carved her name. “Cut it,” he said, indicating the bottom of the band.

  “Really?” she said.

  “I’ll fix it later. Just cut it, please.”

  She could hear the urgency in his voice, so she reached down and snipped the ring, the cutters parting the silver easily, directly opposite the setting that held the green stone.

  He pulled the two halves of the band apart, opening them as far as he could until both were bent up alongside the setting itself. He held it up and looked at it, verifying that the green stone protruded slightly from the bottom of its mount.

  He turned a lopsided smile at Orli. “Wish him luck,” he said. “Wish them luck.”

  Orli realized right away what he meant and muttered, “Good luck, Yellow Fire. There’s someone waiting for you.”

  Altin could hear Rabin and Prakesh muttering it too.

  “Here goes,” Altin said, and, with that, pressed the pulsing green of his stone to the place where he’d merged the heart stone with the surrounding crystals the professor had grown.

  For a moment they all sat watching breathlessly, the long shadow of Orli standing in Rabin’s light shadowing Altin’s hand. Rabin clicked it off, and for a few moments more they all stared into the darkness, watching as the pulsing green light of Altin’s ring lit, then vanished, then lit, then vanished, scattered about by the gray crystals it sat upon.

  Altin held his breath as he watched, staring into the space, his heart trying to beat with the rhythm of the ring’s pulsing.

  He touched the heart stone with the ring, and waited a while more. Still nothing, so he put it back against the joint.

  That’s when the whole cavern flickered like a lantern in a breeze. It flickered once, then twice, a pale blue color like a springtime sky, then in that instant, the whole chamber flared to brilliant life, as bright as any day on Prosperion or planet Earth had ever been, all around them, so bright they all had to shield their eyes. Not just the heart chamber. The whole enormous cavern, everywhere.

  The light flared several times, and everyone began to cheer. Orli burst into tears of joy as she shouted, “It worked, it worked,” through sobs of ecstasy.

  There came a succession of further flares, and a few dimming right after, all in the span of a few seconds, then the bright, daylight azure turned just slightly green, only just barely so, the palest aquamarine.

  Orli gasped and looked frightened, but Altin smiled and nodded his head. “I should think that’s him discovering his new sun,” he said, and as he said it the color stabilized and did not flicker again.

  They all stared into it with open mouths. The professor and both brothers were already on their way down to the stacked crates, bent on getting tools and intent on measuring things.

  “Whoa, what the fuck did you guys just do?” Roberto said. He didn’t sound happy like all the rest.

  “Nothing to worry about,” Orli cheered. “We’ve done it! We’ve done it! I think he’s come back to life. Can’t you see the beautiful cavern light?”

  “No, dude, I’m serious. What the fuck is that?” He was beyond agitated.

  “What?” Orli said, exchanging a glance with Altin. Everyone in the cavern could hear the edge of terror in Roberto’s voice. “What is what?”

  He wasn’t answering her, however, and what he said next was obviously intended fo
r his crew. “Tracy, get us the fuck away from that shit. Deeqa, transfer power to the shields. Jesus, man!”

  “Roberto, what?” Orli asked. “What’s happening?” She was shouting now.

  Altin stopped and stared at her, his breaths coming in shorter and shorter waves. Roberto’s agitation was frightening. The man never lost his cool.

  “You tell me. You guys opened up some kind of shit.”

  “There’s something coming through,” said Deeqa Daar, her voice low and tense, but characteristically calm. “Something big.”

  “What, what?” Orli continued to shout.

  “Look at the feed,” Roberto snapped. “For fuck’s sake, just look at the feed!”

  Orli and Altin blinked back and forth at one another, then both stooped and grabbed up their helmets, setting them loosely in place. There in the upper left was the feed from Roberto’s ship. Less than four miles to starboard was a huge … something, a rift, like a great tear in space, an opening that curved like the pupil of a cat, its edges shaped in part by the absence of stars within it, but also by what appeared to be some kind of pink-burning flame.

  “Oh my God,” Orli breathed.

  “Oh my God is right,” Roberto said, clearly trying to keep himself in check.

  “Here comes another one,” reported Deeqa Daar with no evidence of fear.

  “Fuck,” said Roberto. “Full camo on this bitch. Let’s hide, people.”

  “Camo up,” replied Tracy Applegate at the helm. “We’re out, sir.”

  “Let’s goddamn hope so.”

  “There’s a third,” Deeqa reported as Orli and Altin watched helplessly.

  “Third what?” Orli asked. Altin would have asked it too. He was staring as hard as he possibly could into the monitor, but not seeing anything. There was nothing to see beyond that strange opening.

  “There’s something coming through,” Deeqa replied. “Look at the far edge. It smears the pink as it passes by.”

  Sure enough, there was a blurring of the further edge of the slit in space, the pink rim dimming in one place, the distortion widening for a time, then narrowing, and after a few moments, it was gone.

  “You get a reading on that?” Roberto asked.

  “Nothing, sir,” reported the helmswoman again.

  “Well, get a reading on the gap, and do the math.”

  “Thirty-one point nine miles by thirteen point nine. I’m not picking up a third dimension at all.”

  “Here comes another one,” Deeqa said.

  “Do they see us? We getting anything bouncing off us?”

  “Nothing, sir.”

  “Are they Hostiles?” someone asked.

  The fourth object passed through the gap, and Altin couldn’t help noticing how familiar the edges of the opening appeared.

  “That last one was twenty-seven miles long,” Deeqa reported. “Nine miles high. They’re not orbs.”

  “Do we need to blow the heart chamber?” Doctor Walters asked.

  “No!” Orli shouted. “She just said they aren’t Hostiles.”

  “I said they aren’t orbs,” Deeqa replied.

  “Okay, listen,” said Roberto. “So there’s some big, invisible shit coming out of the new asshole you guys just opened up in space. We can’t dick around with this for long. Altin, you got any theories, or do we need to skip the happy fuck out of here right now and melt this bitch?”

  “No,” replied Altin as he watched. “I don’t have any theories at all.”

  “We’re not melting anything.” Orli managed not to shout, but she was close. “Don’t you dare even suggest it. He hasn’t done anything.”

  “I suggest you guys bug the hell out of there,” said Roberto. “Altin, you should take them straight back to Prosperion. If they aren’t Hostiles, they might be headed your way. And if they are, we can watch, and if we have to, I’ll push the button myself.”

  “You’ll do no such thing, Roberto,” Orli said. “We’re coming up, and you’re leaving with us. If there are any aggressive actions taken toward Earth, Prosperion, or any bases, my father will push the button just like everyone agreed on. If they aren’t, then we should get out of their way until we know what they are.”

  “Like hell I’m leaving,” said Roberto. “At least as long as they can’t see me, I won’t.”

  “Can you see them?”

  “Yes.” He was obviously lying.

  “Other than right as they are coming through the opening, can you see them? Like, where they are now? You can see that?”

  “No.”

  As if to prove that point, suddenly Roberto was flying over the top of the camera he’d been talking into, as if he’d been flung into the air by an invisible hand. He was already swearing as he flew over the lens. Altin saw one of Deeqa’s boots flash briefly on his screen as well, then he was simply staring at the back of Roberto’s chair.

  “Roberto?” Orli shrieked.

  There was no answer for a while.

  “We need to leave,” Altin said, snapping his helmet into place and setting the seal. He moved to where Orli was sifting through channels on her suit sleeve, and snapped her helmet down as well. “Leave the equipment. Everyone get to the teleportation chamber, now. We’re leaving immediately. That is not a request.”

  There was no one in the cavern who was not happy to oblige, and soon all were rushing for the gravity sled, except for Orli, whom Altin had to nearly drag out of the atmospheric bubble that Rabin had opened up for them.

  They were just stepping onto the sled when Roberto’s profanity filled their helmets again.

  “Are you okay?” Orli asked though the cussing was still under way. Her voice was anxious and high, catching Roberto’s attention again.

  “I think they just hit us,” Roberto said.

  “They’re attacking you? Was it an orb, throwing a mineral shaft?”

  “No, like, I think they just tried to run us over.”

  “I thought you said they can’t see you,” Orli said.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe they can. Shit, I can’t get any readings on these things.” To his crew he added, “Are you guys checking all the spectrums?”

  “I don’t know if our scans helped them find us,” Deeqa replied, “but yes, I’ve run through them twice already. I’m not getting anything. If they are Hostiles, they aren’t following any previous patterns.”

  “Well, if they’re not Hostiles, they damn sure ain’t ours,” he said, “unless somebody back home was doing some really hairy secret research while we were gone.”

  “They weren’t,” Deeqa confirmed. “Those are not ours.”

  “We’re sending everyone home,” Altin said. “Is the ship safe enough to bring everyone up, or are we all going back to Prosperion?”

  “I think we’re okay,” he said. “Still getting status reports, though. Give me a second. You guys load up and get to the boot.”

  Prakesh piloted them down the cliff face on the gravity sled, taking a steep angle that was a bit dangerous for a piece of equipment that was meant to lift not fly. He managed it well enough, and in moments everyone was scrambling into the cube of stone that would take them back to the boot sitting on the surface of Red Fire, which was now, technically, Yellow Fire.

  Altin waited impatiently as they all shuffled inside, the twins both hauling at the front of the gravity sled while the professor started pushing from behind.

  “Leave it,” Orli reminded them before Altin could. They were fine scientific minds, but they weren’t all thinking clearly at the time.

  Altin closed the door and latched it, then took his ring and held it between his thumb and forefinger, making sure his thumb was pressed firmly against the pulsing green crystal inside. He had no doubt that he could teleport them out without it, but he had no interest in wasting time.

  Soon, they were once more in the basement of the boot. “Well, Roberto, how is your status?” he asked the moment they appeared.

  “Dude, I’m working
on it.”

  Altin looked at Orli, who shrugged, a gesture hard to see given the bulky nature of the suit. Altin made his decision on the spot. “I’m taking everyone to Prosperion. Roberto, I’ll be back in a moment. No sense putting everyone at risk.” He opened the door of the teleportation chamber. “Everybody out.” He went out first to avoid arguments.

  When everyone was out of it, he shut the door, then spied out the area of Calico Castle where the tower sat, making sure it was clear. It was, and in moments the tower was back in its place. “Everyone out,” he said, again. “Go, go, go. If something happens up there”—he glanced to Orli and then to the rest of them—“Orli and her father will see to it that you all get home.”

  “No, my father will. I’m going with you.”

  “No, you are not.”

  Everyone else was already running for the stairs, Professor Bryant stopping near the top to call back, “Have you let down the tower shield, Sir Altin? So we can get out?”

  He did so with barely a thought, fidgeting with the ring as he did.

  “Orli, there is no reason for you to go. I’m the only one who can cast the spell, and if there is something going on up there, you will be in danger, and that will distract me from helping the others.”

  “Altin, I’m going. He’s my friend too. If there’s trouble, I can bring myself back, remember?” She patted the area of her spacesuit near her throat, where the fast-cast amulet hung beneath, enchanted with the spell that would take her to a safe place behind an old suit of armor in Calico Castle’s ancient dining room. They both wore one, each enchanted to take them to safe spots, side by side.

  “Gods be damned, woman,” he swore. “You are the most stubborn thing.”

  “It wouldn’t bother you so much if you’d just accept it already,” she said. “So, are they out of the boot yet or not?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Let’s just take the box.”

  With that, they both reentered the little stone teleportation room, and Altin once more closed the door. “Helmet sealed?” Orli asked.

  “It is,” he said, and after ensuring that there was a safe place in the Glistening Lady’s cargo hold, Altin set the clean room down inside.