Torbin now had a view of the ship’s interior. Not that there was anything much to see, just grey and white panels and rivets, not even any flashing symbols. At least for now this was preferable to the sense of being in space, watching himself approach his ultimate end point – the black hole.
But something disturbed him. A shadow out of the corner of his still-attached eyes. And then he saw the creature. It was hideous – humanoid but scaly: skin in dark, broken patches. It’s eyes: recessed and black as the darkest of space. Now the creature was looking at him, studying him. And although he was already beginning to accept his terminal fate, somehow being subject to the whim of this creature seemed like a far worse alternative.
Yet it was crazy! How could this creature even be aboard?
‘Computer,’ he said. ‘Who is this? How did it get here?’ At that moment the creature moved out of his sight.
‘How did what get here, Torbin?’
‘That creature. It was studying me.’
‘There is no other life-form aboard this vessel. May I suggest that you are hallucinating?’
‘But it seemed so real.’
‘That is the nature of hallucinations. It may be caused by a lack of sensory input.’
‘Well then plug me back into navigation view.’
This time he didn’t really get the experiential feeling of being in space; just a projected view into his retinas. This should have been preferable to the previous un-anchoring from all sense of being human. He even once more felt the presence of his old body, like a yearning beyond what had once passed for proprioceptive reality: his brain telling him this was the case against any counter evidence, just the accordant neurons firing again.
The brief experience of being a fully-formed human was blasted away when the creature reappeared. At first Torbin tried to deny the reality of it, though now it had a slightly different appearance: not so much the scaly monster as more of a spindly but unfocused shape, seeming to hover against the star background. Not that he felt any better about this ‘hallucination’, since it reminded him very much of the Elusivers.
‘You can’t possibly be real,’ he told it. ‘So get out of my head.’
The image of it got larger. It was saying something to him in a dry whispery voice. ‘I can help you, Torbin. Don’t be afraid.’
Another voice interrupted. The computer. ‘Torbin, you are hallucinating again.’ Right on the cue, the creature disappeared.
‘What’s wrong with me?’ It seemed like a silly question to ask, given his fate.
‘I am not sure. I will need to run some tests.’
‘What kind of tests?’
‘A test for neural chemical imbalance, temporal lobe disorder, visual cortex---’
‘Okay, just go ahead.’
Torbin waited. The spectrally elongated stars continued to shift their position, the meaningless overlaid symbols changed, but nothing else seemed to be happening.
‘Computer. Are you conducting the tests?’
There was no answer.
‘Computer?’
An instant later his connection with space was gone, replaced by the ship’s interior. Now he was hardly even startled to see the creature once again. Its humanoid form appeared out of focus, shifting, unable to resolve into a fixed shape.
This time it spoke. ‘Do not be alarmed, Torbin Lyndau. I am not here to harm you.’ Its voice was reedy but male, throaty and strained.
‘Of course not,’ Torbin replied, ‘since you are no more than a figment of my imagination.’
‘Torbin, I am real. I am here to save you from your predicament.’
‘My predicament can not be altered. I’m on a set course for the nearest black hole.’
‘Not any longer,’ the creature said. ‘The program has been disabled, the ship has been turned around.’
‘Who are you?’ Torbin realised he was beginning to believe this fantasy.
‘I am one of the beings you know of as the Elusivers.’
‘Then why would you want to help me when the others have decreed I’m better off dead?’
‘Because we don’t all think alike.’
‘If only that were true rather than some desperate make-believe of mine,’ Torbin thought out loud. ‘The reality is, no one could have got aboard this ship undetected.’
The creature moved in closer towards him, even more unsettling in its indefinable shape. ‘Surely you of all humans would not underestimate our abilities at stealth?’
‘Not at all. Somehow you lot have even evaded the B’tari. But this is a Elusiver ship, it must be tuned to your physiology.’
‘Torbin, you know better than to second-guess our methods. I have learned the art of evasion for nearly a millennia.’
‘Next you’ll be telling me it was you who sent out the warning signal – the blueprint – to Earth all the those centuries ago.’
‘That is correct. It is, though, unfortunate that so far no effective counter-measure has been developed.’
‘Could not you have done so?’
‘I am an exile, with no access to our most advanced technology – or the inclination to draw attention to myself.’
‘Then you want me to go back, work on a counter measure.’
‘That would be of some benefit. However, directing this vessel back to your home world undetected will be a challenge.’
‘Then do your best.’
‘I will do my best,’ the keeper confirmed, and promptly glided away from his view.
Torbin still wasn’t convinced of the reality of this encounter. He found it difficult to gauge any experience as being real, in this limited state. Maybe he was simply insane; his mind conjuring up something to divert from the contemplation of death, and temporal eradication besides – the total ceasing of his existence; the mind going to the most extraordinary lengths to give him what mattered most in life: hope.
Yet, when his perception switched back to the view of space, he was no longer travelling at subluminal speed – the stars were smeared lines, some kind of hyperspace drive was in operation. The only hope of covering the six thousand light-year journey in his lifetime.
That word again.
*
Raiya still felt a sense of unease to be in such close quarters with a strange man. Her logical mind told her there was no danger. After all, this part of her office was closely monitored. The man hadn’t visited her for counselling, though his sanity remained to be assessed.
To interview an ex cult member seemed like the only way to get a handle on the real ethos – the truth behind the net reports, the media sensationalisms.
In every respect he looked like a typical Canadian: dark hair and northern European features, late thirties, not unlike the majority of those she’d counselled through their minor – and not so minor – neurosis. Perhaps this made her the most qualified to assess this man; Len Heigener clearly thought so.
Raiya, seated behind her desk, said to the man in an upright chair, ‘I know this isn’t easy for you. From what I have learned they are not the type of people to just let go.’
‘They let me go,’ he said, then smiled strangely. ‘I think it was because I asked too many questions. They don’t like certain questions.’
‘What type of questions?’
‘About these aliens – the Bortati. Where they originate. When they will come. How they will save “the chosen”. Told me I wasn’t ready for such knowledge.’
‘You didn’t feel they were being honest with you?’ she wondered.
‘I felt I was being strung along. But it wasn’t just me; no other member I spoke to knew any more than I did.’
‘So there is no evidence for the leader’s claim.’
‘Well, Parmayan said there is evidence for the coming of the end of days. He talked about the dark beings who can manipulate time and space. He used the example of the missing ship, how no one could explain its sudden displacement too far away to be recovered. At least the space agency was taking that seriously by cancelling projects. So maybe something is happening to space and we’re not allowed to know about it.’
‘I can’t vouch for those claims,’ she said, thinking how a little knowledge can be a dangerous thing. ‘There just isn’t the evidence.’
‘But Parmayan is on to something, you have to admit. And what if he is right – that we are heading for the true end of time?’
‘How can time end?’ she said, more as gentle prompt than an inquisitive question.
‘The dark beings are advanced beyond our comprehension. There are already reported cases of people having large chunks of their lives eradicated. Or just killed for knowing too much.’
‘Those are just rumours spread about on the net. How can you rely on them?’
‘Those are people’s testimonies. Not just ordinary citizens but scientists, astronomers – who have actually observed strange phenomena. Haven’t you read the reports of the “strange accidents and suicides”? ’
What he was saying made sense: target those who could provide evidence. She said, ‘That was part of my research. Yet still, there’s nothing substantial as proof.’
‘There never is, is there? Never likely to be. But you must of all people know something weird is happening to this world. It doesn’t just take someone like Parmayan to point it out to us.’
She half nodded. ‘I’ve seen, read, heard many people convinced of various conspiracies and end of the world prophesies. They saw the signs, the patterns – things cannot possibly be mere coincidences. Don’t we all like to join the dots?’
‘You know there’s more to it than that, doctor.’
Raiya didn’t respond. She wanted to find out more about Parmayan, but now was not the time. She made a gesture of pressing the down the console projection on her desk. ‘Thank you for your time,’ she said finally.
*
Deanna had lost track of the number of days, weeks, months, she’d been held at this facility. For the first week she had been confined to this basic white room. The sensory deprivation would have driven her truly insane had it not been for her frequent contacts with Scott, who visited her, either as an ethereal presence or seeming to be more real. She thought the drugs they gave her actually helped her state of consciousness to merge with his. Of course, she was not the only inmate in this place to claim contact with a loved one. The only difference being that Scott was still alive. He had found a way to contact her that transcended the limitations of time and space. He told her how it was all so different now – the way the future is, the passing of time. Nothing was inevitable if you could see what would become and knew how to change it. Scott was on his way back, he assured her.
She had tried to tell anyone she could; just hoping the message would get out. Light years away – could he ever make it back alone? But what was even worse than a reaction of scepticism or incredulity had been the way they thought they could humour her, as if she were truly delusional.
Every time Doctor Heigener visited her she felt a sense of unease. This time was no different, except he was on his own; no nurse ready with a sedative if she became unruly. He carried some strange device, arch-curved titanium to a green glowing point. Oh, how she regretted telling him about her meetings with Scott. It was just that the drugs seemed to loosen her tongue.
‘Is he with us currently?’ Heigener asked in a measured tone that was meant to sound like earnestness.
‘He is not,’ Deanna answered with equally faux earnestness.
‘Can you summon him?’
‘No. He comes to me when he chooses.’
‘Deanna, this is important. I need to know how you are able to be in contact with him.’
‘You want to know what goes on in my head when you think I am hallucinating him.’
‘I want to verify that you are not hallucinating when you’re in contact with him.’
‘I am sorry, doctor, but I can’t help you.’
‘I want to help you, Deanna.’ He smiled beseechingly, in a slightly creepy way. He then lumbered towards her, the device in hand. ‘Please. Summon him.’
‘No,’ she protested.
‘Then there’s nothing I can do for you. You’ll remain here. My report will state that I can find no grounds for your claims, or any prospect for rehabilitation.’
Deanna knew he wasn’t bluffing with his last statement. ‘I will try,’ she said eventually.
There had been a couple of times when Scott appeared to her when she called him, but she wasn’t going to let on to Dr Heigener – and become like some performing monkey for the psychiatrist. Nevertheless she tried to summon him, sending out strong thoughts while Heigener primed his scanning device.
For a while there was nothing. She wondered if Scott suspected some kind of entrapment until, after about a minute, she became aware of Scott’s distant ethereal voice. ‘Deanna, my love, I am trying to reach you. You are so faint to me.’ She could see him now – as the room faded – shrouded in mist, or perhaps it was a nebular. There were stars around him, and he was floating amongst them – with just his normal clothes.
‘They don’t believe you survived,’ she said to him. ‘They need some evidence.’
‘I so wish I could prove it. But there are limitations. No one else can have the connection we have. One day I will return, and they will be sorry for what they have done to you.’ His image was fading now, into the nebular, until there was nothing of him.
With a jolt she was back in the white room, Heigener studying the readings from his scanner, until he noticed she was looking at him.
‘You made contact with him, I take it?’
‘Yes. Did your probe pick it up?’
‘Mnn. It’s not as simple as a positive or negative reading, this is not a precise science; it will need further analysis.’
‘Please let me know, doctor.’
‘In due course.’
He got up to leave, when she said to him, ‘I do have one further request.’
‘Go on.’
‘I would like to see Dr Fortenski.’
‘Really?’
‘I had a consultation with her, and so has Scott.’
‘Yes. He was registered at the Canadian institute. However, Dr Fortenski no longer practices there, she is now a researcher.’
‘But she would understand.’
‘Deanna, I understand. You need to trust me … I only have your best interests at heart.’ He thanked her for her cooperation and left.
She would never trust that man. There was something about him that made her not only suspicious, but fearful.