But that love for life came to an end a few seconds later.
I hadn't taken notice before but there was a gap between the office ceilings and the higher roof of the main factory. Without warning, not even the scraping of talons on metal, a shape sprung from this dark gap landing on Çrámerr's back. Together they rolled down the stairwell, hi-man and Krilla locked in deadly embrace.
Reflexively, Çrámerr's finger squeezed the carbine's trigger and shells sprayed out all over the factory floor, punching great holes into the vats. The Krilla raised one forearm. With shock and disbelief I saw it clutched a long shard of glass in its ratty hand. Even in the dim light within the factory its weapon glittered wickedly. With all its strength it plunged the glass in the narrow gap between Çrámerr's body armour and helmet. Blood spurted out from his carotid artery, fountaining out, spraying the floor and nearer vats with his life-blood.
Çrámerr was a goner – there was nothing anybody could do for him now. He rolled over, found his feet and slammed his attacker into a supporting pillar. Nothing was dislodging that rat-man's grip. With the last of his strength, Çrámerr turned around his carbine until the barrel pointed back at the Krilla. He fired for the final time. The Krilla flew backwards, its side torn out in a bloody welter of blood and guts by 10mm shells. The monster lay twitching, its legs cartwheeling as it died.
Clasping his gauntlet to his neck in a vain attempt to stem his blood-loss, Çrámerr rolled over and looked up at us. Even then, he smiled. I suppose knowing your clone is your passport against death does that for you.
Still supporting Âgustin, we hurried as quickly as we dared down the stairwell. Where were the rest? It is almost unheard for a Krilla to attack alone. Let alone attack with a tool. They are pack animals after all. Showing supreme effort, Çrámerr propped himself up on one elbow. Scarlet blood poured over his armour and pooled around him, mixing with the rat-man's. We stood around him, Âgustin still leaning against me.
Çrámerr croaked something but I couldn't understand him. He spoke again. Giving up, and with the last force of his incredibly strong personality, he touched the base of his skull. Then I understood. He wanted us to remove his back-up memory chip. Everything up to his last save point would be on that chip and could be downloaded later into his clone. It's true what they say. If you're rich enough, death has been bought off.
He looked up one last time and then fell forward into his own blood. Kneeling, I felt for his pulse waiting for it to still.
"Oh – hurry," Clemency shouted, fear in her voice. Here they came, another horde of Krillaz swarming towards us, their backs undulating like waves, their cries echoing in the vast floor space. She fired several shots, the Bassoonka's shells bursting in their midst. The explosions did little to slow them.
Without waiting for Çrámerr's death, I ripped the chip out from its slot and dropped it into an empty pocket. Any problems could be sorted out later by the techs at the cloning labs. They'd clean up the chip's data, not wanting to saddle the new clone with a load of bad memories at the start of its life. I flipped a sketchy salute. For all his faults, Luis Çrámerr died bravely.
"Run," I shouted. Fortunately our way to the loading bay was clear. If we made it to the Steg, we'd be safe. Trouble was, I was encumbered by Âgustin and Krillaz are fast. Especially when they scent prey. On the other hand, we were running for our lives. We ran for all we were worth, me dragging Âgustin with me. I forced air into my lungs, trying to oxygenate my blood. The Krillaz chased after us, their cries bouncing off the walls.
We almost made it. Almost but not quite. The loading bay door was just out of reach when they caught us. One Krilla, bolder or faster than the rest leaped at my back. Catching sight of it out of the corner of my eye, I sidestepped and it slammed into the side of a vat. A burst from my Hi-Ripper stopped it getting up again.
"No, please don't," Âgustin moaned.
"You're safe with us," I told him. Hoped I would make good on that promise. After all I had a cool million riding on him and I'd protect him to the best of my ability. How good that would be remained to be seen.
I fetched up against the side of a vat. It felt cool and clammy with mosses and lichens clinging to its side. Leaning Âgustin against the vat, I freed my arm, crouched and fired several short, hard bursts into the waves of Krillaz, bowling them over in tattered remains, tearing gaps through their ranks. Seeing what I was doing, Clemency turned and fired shells in a curving arc, blowing holes in the crowd. Then she stopped.
"What's the matter?" I called over the rat-men's high-pitched cries.
She joggled the safety. "Out of ammo," she said. Her eyes were wide and her face was pale.
This was bad news. My ammo display also showed my supply was running low. I sent another hail of shards into a piebald Krilla sneaking up. The rest paused and there – at the back as usual, I saw Captain Albino leading on his troops. He must have followed us all the way from City Hall. No way did he want to miss out on the action – or the feast.
From my battle-vest I unclipped a couple of smoke grenades. Everyone knows animals hate and fear fire and hopefully smoke would work on their primitive instincts. Also, the thick smoke might buy us enough time to get away. Pressing their timers, I lobbed the grenades towards the first rank of Krillaz. One rolled towards another tank's housing but bounced off. The monsters recoiled, running backwards, their tails swishing from side to side. By now, they'd seen enough of the death and destruction our hi-man weapons caused.
A second later, with a dull whoompf, the two smoke bombs detonated. Yes, it's old technology but sometimes simple is best. Thick, choking black smoke billowed out, veiling and then obscuring the Krillaz from our view. Which also meant they couldn't see us. The breeze from the open loading bay door guided the worst of the smoke away from us. The cries coming from the Krillaz now sounded terrified and desperate. I heard their talons scraping the Konkreet as they fled.
I laughed with relief. Of course! With their ratty ancestry, Krillaz are very prone to breathing difficulties. Naturally, they'd hate and fear smoke even more than most animals.
Hoisting Âgustin upright, with my shoulder under his arms, I called over to Clemency, "C'mon. Now. Only a few metres and we're out of here."
She needed no further encouragement, running for the exit as clouds of smoke boiled behind us. With Âgustin's dead weight slowing me, I was a little behind her but not by much. Three rows of vats to go... two... one and the loading bay door stood wide open with our Steg and freedom beyond.
Three Krillaz raced out from behind the last vat. One of them was their leader, Captain Albino himself, still wearing his scraps of armour. I guess he wanted to get his share of flesh. A juvenile – its patchy fur mostly white – running low caught Clemency around her knees, bowling her over. She clubbed it with her now useless Bassoonka but it gripped tight. Its friends then went for her arms.
"Vic! Help me!" she screamed.
Raising my Metallist Hi-Ripper I pulled the trigger. A few shards embedded themselves in the young Krilla. It screamed with pain but the ammo warning light was now solid red. Totally, 100% empty.
Âgustin and I were only a couple of metres from the exit now. Another scrum of Krillaz emerged from behind another vat, their greedy arms outstretched, their eyes focussed on the struggling woman.
"Vic, – aidez-moi...," she screamed again.
I noticed her panic made her lapse into her native language. My heartstrings were torn. A woman, well I didn't love her but I wondered if such feelings could have developed over time. I'd seen the way she looked at me and sometimes I glanced at her and liked what I saw.
Âgustin pulled in my grasp. "Get me out of here," he panted.
He was too weak to walk and couldn't make it to the Steg under his own steam. Through the smokescreen behind me I heard the Krilla horde stirring. It wouldn't hold them long – and it was thinning already. Forcing me to make up my mind, a few Krillaz emerged through the smokescreen and ran to join those around Clemency.
She screamed a wordless cry of pain and fear mixed together. The sound cut through me and my vision blurred. Âgustin stirred again. I had to decide now. On one hand it meant trying to rescue a woman I cared for but with no guarantee of success. And even if I saved her, there was no assurance that we would want to be together afterwards. We could have one of those short-burning things and after she had returned to her usual routine, she'd take up with some high-income, tennis playing, go-getting executive type at her local country club.
On the other hand, there was Âgustin and the cool million Hydrans riding on his safe return. One million Hydrans. Even with inflation, that's still a huge amount and with it I could buy a woman or two if my tastes ran to it. There are worlds you can do that sort of thing.
So I made my decision and now I would have to live with it.
Turning my head away from the squirming mass of Krillaz as they chewed through poor Clemency's armour, I dragged Âgustin towards the exit. Out in the goods yard, our Steg promised safety. Tears leaked from Âgustin's eyes as he stepped out into the drizzle and looked up at the clouds. No, I didn't despise the man at all. Don't forget he'd starved for weeks in that server room and could never have expected to see the outside again.
We walked down the ramp, the Steg looming larger with every step. A rattle of claws behind me showed we weren't out of danger yet. Seeing he'd been spotted, the Krilla leaped, its tail flailing the air. Its outstretched arms ready to grab, its massive jaws ready to bite. Dropping Âgustin, I whipped out my diamond blade, gripped it two-handed and impaled the Krilla as it landed.
The monster shrieked. Lowering it to the ground, I kicked it off my blade with my boot. It twitched as the diamond scraped along its ribs but it made to stand and carry on attacking.
I didn't give it a chance. Stamping my boot onto its foot, I felt bones break beneath me. "This is for Clemency," I told it slashing my blade across its throat. The thing gurgled and choked, falling forwards into its own life-blood. I kicked its dying body hard.
"Vargo," Âgustin said, recalling me to the here and now. More Krillaz were spilling out of the loading bay. Seeing us, they bounded forwards. Scooping up the emaciated young man, I ran like the wind.
We made it with a metre to spare. Perhaps less but I wasn't measuring. Reaching the Steg's security, I wrenched down the handle and the heavy door swung open. Adjusting my hold, glad that he was so light, I bodily threw Âgustin inside. He cried out as his fleshless body slammed onto the Steg's metal floor. I was inside one second later, slamming the door shut behind us and locking it tight.
Making my way up to the front, past the sad relics of my one-time companions, I got behind the wheel and fired it up. Through my view-screen I watched Krillaz banging on the sides and trying to climb up. One leaped up at the view-screen so I electrified the exterior and they all fell away squeaking with shock.
Carefully, not wanting to further damage the tyres, I turned around and headed out of the goods yard. Behind me, I saw more and more Krillaz boiling out of the plant. Some, more hopeful than their friends ran after the Steg but as soon as I was out of the gateway I put on speed and left them behind.
The chewed tyres made their usual ker-chunk, ker-chunk, ker-chunk as they ground over the poor road surface but I didn't mind. It has to be said, my spirits lifted as we left Bas-Hinna's city limits and entered the countryside. We were safe now. As the tyres went ker-chunk, my mind heard instead the sound ker-ching, ker-ching, like an old-fashioned cash register as I thought about the million Hydrans coming my way.
I already knew how I was gonna spend some of my money. I was coming back to Hancox 1 but this time I'd be better prepared. A few hard men I knew I could rely on – even if one was more a cyborg now – plenty of ammunition, grenades, flamethrowers. The works. Then me and Captain Albino were gonna have us a party. I owed that rat-man payback for Clemency. Oh yeah...
THE END.
Feast of Santo Monica La Baixar, 7336 Anno Lucis.
The shuttle floated down light as gossamer as its final anti-gravity units kicked in. Only traces of dust blew away in its downdraught. A moment after it settled, its ramp opened revealing the brightly lit interior. Three figures walked down the slope before standing on the gravelled terrain. They waited for the ramp to close before moving off.
Towering over the lead two figures stood the metal figure of a robot. Its kyanite eyes glowed an even brighter blue than the O category blue-giant sun that dominated this cloudless alien sky while its burnished nu-steel skin reflected the sun's blue glare. The robot was slender – shaped like an old-fashioned pencil – with several multi-use appendages while an antenna spiking from its head assembly emphasised both the automaton's height and thinness.
The two hi-mans in front were more conventional in appearance. The team's leader, Quarto-Capitao Teofila Marilia, wore an enhanced stasis-field-suit although she didn't really need that level of protection. Their mother-ship, the Reliquias da Santo Duarte IX's, sensors had not picked up any dangerous micro-organisms or chemical signatures. All the same, the young woman did not want to take any chances, not now she was on course for promotion to Demi-Capitao.
Teofila Marilia had set the suit's surface to maximum reflection and her suit rippled as she took in her surroundings. In this blueish terrain, her body reminded the second hi-man of the waves of her far distant water-world. For a moment, the other woman dreamed of Batavia VII. That was a paradise world of endless reefs and islets sprinkled like sparkling glucose crystals over the oceans. When her next long R'n'R came around, she was going back to hunt fast moving spike-harpon the old-fashioned way.
Still thinking of spike-harpon, the second hi-man team member looked over at her nominal leader. The Quarto-Capitao could give all necessary orders; however Francoa da Xiora knew the young team leader had only limited experience in exploring newly rediscovered worlds. She also knew that the Quarto-Capitao would couch any orders as requests, except in emergencies; as she, Da Xiora, was the representative of the Archprelate back on Diamantina, the nearest major world. Especially as the Quarto-Capitao wouldn't want to do anything that could get her cited for heresy later.
Da Xiora herself wore only a standard lightweight environmental suit. If that wasn't good enough then her spirit would fly back through the galaxy to merge with Sol Invicta, the all-conquering Sun – not this blue giant but the yellow orb of Earth's own sun – that star she had never seen but revered above all the other hundred billion stars in the galaxy. Around Da Xiora's neck was a dura-gold disc; her symbol of authority which had been blessed by the Archprelate of Diamantina herself. It showed the sacred twenty rays.
The hi-man's lenses adjusted to the blue glare. "Unusual for a blue giant to have evolved a world with a nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere," Da Xiora commented. "These stars usually burn out before they reach that stage."
She breathed in deeply, savouring the breeze. Her enhanced nasal filters detected a sweetish smell that seemed out of place in the stony landscape. Mentally, she adjusted her lenses and the distant mountains zoomed into view. A millisecond later, they focussed in crystal clear clarity without any distortion. Those bodily enhancements were well worth the cost. Now Da Xiora saw upland meadows with soft blue-grey grass and feathery shrubs but she spotted no animals.
Satisfied, Da Xiora zoomed out until her view returned to normal. Looking around, the shuttle behind them was the only artificial creation in the landscape. It poised, dart-like, a thing of beauty and grace, its nose angled towards the cerulean sky.
The small team paused in a shallow valley surrounded by low hills and bluffs. Everything had a bluish tinge as the giant star cast its burning rays onto this world. "Which way now?" Da Xiora asked her leader.
Quarto-Capitao Teofila Marilia pointed up the valley. "The Reliquias's sensors located the anomaly seven point five kilometres further up this valley."
That was what they had landed to investigate. On its sweep through this sector of the galaxy, just where the Orion arm merged with the inner Sagittarius spiral arm, the Reliquias da Santo Duarte IX had picked up one small area of incredible off-the-scale power on an otherwise empty planet orbiting this blue-giant star. Both the planet and energy source were sufficiently unusual to be worth checking out.
Da Xiora nodded and stroked her chin through her forcefield causing the magnetic field to buzz against her skin. "We're walking straight there?" As she spoke, the Reliquias's orbit brought the star ship over the edge of the horizon. Both hi-mans looked up, reassured by the sight. Against the bright blue, the Reliquias looked like a hard-edged cloud laced with white. Although in reality vast, at this distance the star ship looked small and fragile.
Once again, enhancing her lenses to their maximum setting, Da Xiora looked up as the Reliquias crossed the blue heavens. She could make out the huge cylindrical hydro-fuel tanks on either side of the hull, the hydroponics and even the bridge's bulge in the centre. Beneath, a multi-faceted tube housed the Ottumwa-4 torpedoes. They were the most destructive weapons carried by the ship, far worse than the Plazma-Cannons.
"We do not have all day," Teofila Marilia said, a touch of asperity in her voice.
A melodious tone spoke up from behind them. The voice was neither male nor female nor any shade in between. Yet it was beautiful, clear and reassuring. "The days on this world are 58.766 recurring Earth hours. We have plenty of time to reach this anomaly, investigate and return to the shuttle within one local day."
"Unless something goes wrong," Teofila Marilia said to nobody in particular.
Da Xiora said nothing. Sol Invicta would protect them all unless the Great Sun withdrew its protection.
"Do you have any idea what this anomaly could be?" the Quarto-Capitao asked.
The robot's eyes flashed again momentarily. "My data banks have communed with ship's data banks. The ship has never come across anything like this before."
Da Xiora wasn't surprised that they had been sent. Experienced yet expendable. However, she was very glad she had backed up her mental memory banks and that her clone subscription was paid up to date so death would be a temporary inconvenience. She wasn't going to merge with Sol Invicta's eternal fiery embrace just yet.
Leading off, Quarto-Capitao Teofila Marilia walked along the valley. Behind them the robot's heavy tread crunched over the stony ground. It was standard practice to land several kilometres away from anything that needed investigating and then walk there. It gave the party time to evaluate the issue while giving them the element of surprise. All the same, Da Xiora felt vulnerable walking on foot. Once again, she was grateful that her cloning and memory chips were paid up to date.
The trio walked along the valley. In more sheltered areas, they passed stands of soft looking grasses or rushes of a delicate aquamarine colour, their tufts paler, almost white. The delicate fragrance seemed to come from these plants.
"What do you make of them, #89044-B?" Teofilia Marilia said to the robot.
#89044-B's eyes flashed, casting a blue kyanite glow over the already blued plants. "Carbon based, of course, with an interesting selenium sub-signature. Reproduces by seeds and adapted for an arid climate. However, they show a strong correlation with similar grasses originating from the Iestoratio System, which..."
"...Is over seven hundred parsecs away. So how did it get here?" Da Xiora broke in.
The robot showed no signs of annoyance at being interrupted.
"Could be a case of parallel evolution?" Da Xiora speculated. "I've seen that before."
"I doubt that. Although a brief scan, the DNA shows too many correlations," #89044-B said.
The trio walked in silence for a while as they approached a low ridge in the blue-grey hills. Looking up, Da Xiora saw the distant white-edged hull of the Reliquias slide over the sky and dip out of sight behind the further hills.
Teofila Marilia spoke up, her voice quiet in this soft, blue world. "There was something unusual about the Iestoratio System, wasn't there? I've never been there but I recall..."
Da Xiora realised that the Quarto-Capitao had not enhanced her memory banks. Or had temporarily cleansed them. Either that or her personal links with the Reliquias's computers were temporarily off-line. She wasn't about to comment as the Quarto-Capitao was their leader.
That didn't stop #89044-B. His eyes flashed bright blue. "The Iestoratio system is best known for its vanished civilisation. There are ruined towers and skyscrapers that show the population reached a high degree of technological sophistication before simply vanishing."
"What happened? Do you know?" Teofila Marilia asked.
Da Xiora could have told her this but she too wanted to hear what the robot would say.
"Nobody knows. Judging from the building density, it was a heavily populated planet and the civilised life-form was undoubtedly hi-manoid. It is not known if they developed stellar transport as the natives did not seem to have developed an overly mechanistic or industrial base. However, what remains of their artwork was extremely beautiful."
"How would you know?" said Da Xiora. "You machine-men cannot appreciate beauty."
#89044-B's eyes sparkled. "That is right. We cannot appreciate art nor feel emotions. We only go by the information in our data-banks."
"Carry on, please," Quarto-Capitao Teofila Marilia said. Da Xiora fell silent.
"There isn't much more to tell as so little is known. All that is known for certain is that the population simply vanished."
"How?" asked Teofila Marilia. Da Xiora wondered how this young woman was chosen to lead this little expedition. Probably because she had to start somewhere. Even the great Sept-Capitaos, many times above her rank and responsible for fleets of starships had to start as novices.
"Insufficient data...," said #89044-B in a staccato, mock-robotic voice before resuming in its usual melodic tones, "... seriously, nobody knows although there are a number of theories. It certainly wasn't a thermonuclear war as the planet shows only the usual level of background radiation. It wasn't a pandemic as no micro-organisms have been detected..."
"Slavers?" Teofila Marilia hazarded.
"It’s hard to see how a population of billions could all be taken. It would have taken years so there would have been people hiding in remote places," #89044-B pointed out. "After the slavers left, they would have repopulated at least part of their world."
"Maybe they got bored and all left one day," Da Xiora grinned.
Despite being more intelligent than any hi-man, #89044-B had little sense of humour. At least, little had been detected. "The most likely hypothesis is a solar flare. However, a lack of scorching on the buildings makes that unlikely, especially as there is no loss of atmosphere. It is a mystery."
"Is there any research going on?" asked Da Xiora.
"Some," admitted the robot, "but that System is off the main trade routes and isn't of the highest priority."
"No high tech alien artefacts in other words," Da Xiora said.
#89044-B's eyes glowed a brilliant kyanite. "That is correct. No wormhole technology."
Sometimes, Da Xiora wondered about the machine-man's alleged lack of humour.
The trio rounded a low spur of the hills. The vale opened up into a wide plain, the blue-green grass shading away to blue-grey towards the horizon. Far above, the blue-giant sun burned hotly. Out of the shadow of the hills, the temperature soared so Da Xiora adjusted the thermostat on her environmental suit.
At the far end of the vale stood the anomaly. Even with their enhanced eyes, neither hi-man could make out anything beyond a brilliant white glare.
"Can you tell what it is?" Teofila Marilia asked #89044-B.
Unusually, there was a long pause as #89044-B processed the information. Eventually the robot spoke. Its voice was not as melodious as before. "I can make out ascending motion but that is all."
"Useless piece of scrap metal," Da Xiora muttered under her breath.
"Come on and let's check it out," the Quarto-Capitao said.
"That's what we've come for," Da Xiora muttered again.
In line abreast, keeping some distance between them, the trio advanced on the abnormality.
"Anything?" Teofila Marilia said. Da Xiora detected worry in her voice.
"My sensors do not detect any unusual radiation patterns or anything dangerous. However, I cannot observe anything further at this point."
"Let me know when you can."
"Affirmative, Quarto-Capitao."
Once again, Da Xiora wondered whether the machine-man felt more emotion than it admitted. It wouldn't be the first robot to have feelings but most robots felt it beneath their dignity to admit to it.
Spreading out in a skirmish line as they were trained and keeping all their senses on highest alert the trio advanced. None had drawn weapons and none felt any threat or danger, just a sense of strangeness, that this singularity was something outside of their experience. Even #89044-B kept silence.
They trod over the short blue-green lawn beneath the cyan sky towards the white glare. Glancing down, Da Xiora saw that despite the brilliance the team cast no shadows. However, it was only when they were within ten metres that the team saw the anomaly more clearly. She stopped. A millisecond later, so did the others.
Through the glare Da Xiora made out a flight of stairs fifty metres wide. They lead upwards for maybe one hundred metres, disappearing into the whitest, hottest part of the brightness. The stairs were filled with hi-manoid people facing upwards all of them seemingly static except the harshness of the glare made the figures shimmer as with motion. Or were they all moving, but so rapidly that the eye mistook their motion for stillness? Even with her enhanced eyes, Da Xiora couldn't tell. She had never come across anything like it. Never, not in all the systems she had visited.
The people were as strange as the staircase. They were all tall, taller than Da Xiora although nowhere near #89044-B's height. The people wore long, floor length robes of many hues, although mostly shades of turquoises or blue-greens. The robes hid their arms and legs giving them a slender conical look. They were completely hairless and their skins were a delicate turquoise-grey.
"What are they doing? Why are they just standing there?" Teofila Marilia asked.
Da Xiora was at a loss. She had no idea. She glanced over at #89044-B but the robot stood still, its eyes glowing far brighter than she'd ever seen them before as even its incredible computing power was stretched to the limit.
There was an aura of incredible power in the air, a feeling similar to static electricity, every ion particle charged with electricity as if waiting for one spark to discharge the entire amount in a massive outrush of energy. It felt like an lightning storm was about to erupt. Yet the sky was a clear blue, the blue sun the only object in sight.
Da Xiora felt strange as the unseen powers penetrated her lightweight environmental suit. Subtly, she adjusted the suit's setting to maximum resistance but it had no effect. Her leader, the Quarto-Capitao, seemed overawed while the robot seemed lost in its own circuits. Glad that her memory was all backed up, Da Xiora took a few paces forward. The air felt thicker, glutinous, filled with electricity and other unknown energies. Sounds far beyond her hearing filled Da Xiora's ears with unnameable and unknowable melodies.
One final step took Da Xiora to the foot of the stairs. Up close, the people seemed solid yet translucent, real yet unreal, here in the moment yet not here but far away. She shook her head, trying to clear it of these eerie, unwanted images. It felt like her eyes and ears and mind could take no more, that she was operating on the extremes of her senses and any further input would cause her to implode, collapsing in on herself.
Yet Da Xiora forced herself onwards through the heavy air. She placed one foot onto the lowest step. A thrill of power bypassed her suit's resistance, surging through her body and she felt herself impelled onwards and upwards. With difficulty, she resisted that overwhelming impulse and stood on the lowest step. Hesitantly, she placed one hand on the nearest figure.
The person – and for some reason Da Xiora thought it was male – turned and looked at her. It was slightly taller than most of the others. It opened its cerulean teardrop eyes a fraction wider.
"What's going on? Why are you on these stairs?" Da Xiora said.
The figure spoke. Not with its mouth which was a mere slit in its oval face but with its mind. True telepathy. Extremely rare but not unheard of, but Da Xiora had never come across that psionic power with such clarity before.
"We are advancing," the person said. Its mental voice was calm and tranquil, penetrating through the heavy air and cutting through her confusion.
"Advancing? Why, what's up at the top?"
"The start, the end, and everything in