Transcendence

Chapter Sixteen

Two kilometers beneath the surface, Genizee was an intriguing world of interlocking caves and corridors; of airspaces spa

But five kilometers down, Genizee was more than intriguing. It was incomprehensible.

No longer was it necessary to walk or climb from place to place or floor to floor. Sheets of liquid light flashed horizontally and vertically, or curved away in long rose-red arches through tubes and tu

The usual laws for strength of materials had also been suspended inside Genizee. Papery, translucent tissues as thin and delicate as butterfly wings bore Atvar H’sial’s full weight without giving a millimeter, while in other places J’merlia’s puny mass pushed his thin legs deep into four-inch plates of solid metal. In one chamber the floor was covered by seven-sided tiles of a single shape that produced an aperiodic, never-repeating pattern. In another, webbed sheets of hexagonal filaments ran from ceiling to deep pools of still water. They continued on beneath the surface, but there the lattice became oddly twisted and the eye refused to follow its submarine progress.

“But at least it’s drinkable water,” Louis Nenda said. He was bending with cupped hands by one of the still pools. After a few seconds of noisy gulping he straightened. “What color would you say that is?” He pointed to an object like an embossed circular shield hanging forty yards away.

“It’s yellow.” Rebka was also stooping to drink.

“Okay. Now peek at it sort of edgeways, with just your peripheral vision.”

“It looks different. It’s blue.”

“That’s what I’d say. How d’you like the idea of somethin’ that turns a different color when you look at it?”

“That’s impossible. You don’t affect an object when you look at it. Your eyes take in photons — they don’t shoot them out.”

“I know that. But Kallik’s always goin’ on about how in quantum theory, the observer affects the observed system.”

“That’s different — that’s down at the level of atoms and electrons.”

“Maybe.” Louis Nenda turned his head away from the shield, then as quickly turned back. “But I still see blue, an’ then yellow. I guess if it’s impossible, nobody told the shield. If I knew how that gadget worked I could name my own price at the Eyecatch Gallery on Scordato.” He leaned over the pool again and filled his flask. “Wish we had something to go with this.”

With worries over water supply out of the way, the humans’ concerns were turning more and more to food. Kallik would be all right — a Hymenopt could reduce her metabolism and survive for five months without food or water. J’merlia and Atvar H’sial could manage for a month or more. “Which just leaves me an’ thee,” Nenda said to Hans Rebka. “We have to stop gawping around and find a way out of here. You’re the boss. Where do we go next? We could wander around forever.”

That thought had been on Hans Rebka’s mind for the past four hours, since the last sign of the Zardalu had vanished. “I know what we have to do,” he replied. “But I don’t know how.” He waved his arm to take in the whole chamber. “If we’re going to get out, we need a road map for this place. And that means we need to find whoever built it. One thing’s for sure, it wasn’t the Zardalu. It’s nothing like the surface buildings.”

“I do not know who built this, and I, too, do not know how to determine the present location of that entity.” J’merlia had been quietly watching and listening, pale-yellow eyes blank and remote. “Also, we are dealing with a region of planetary dimensions — billions of cubic kilometers. However, I can suggest a procedure which may lead to a meeting with the beings who control and maintain this region.”

Hans Rebka and Louis Nenda stared at him. Neither could get used to the new, poised J’merlia. “I thought you just said you don’t know how to find ’em,” Nenda grumbled.

“That is correct. I do not know where to go. Yet there are ways by which the controllers of the interior of Genizee may perhaps be persuaded to come to us. All we need to do, on a sufficiently large scale, is this.”

The Lo’tfian stepped across to where two spi

“Destruction,” J’merlia went on. “Wholesale destruction. Much of this equipment may be self-repairing, but for damage sufficiently massive, outside service must also be needed. There should be reporting systems and repair mechanisms. Stand well clear.” He moved to stand by a river of liquid light and pushed a plate of support material to block its path. Sparks flew. The river screamed, and light splashed like molten gold. A dozen machines around the chamber began to smoke and glow bright red. “Very good.” J’merlia turned to the others. “I suggest that you either assist — or please stay out of the way.”

Louis Nenda was already joining in, with a gusto and expertise that suggested much experience in violent demolition. He had found a straight bar of hardened metal and went along one wall, smashing transparent pipes filled with glowing fluid. Flashing liquid streams flew in all directions. Whatever they touched began to smoke and crumble. At the opposite wall, J’merlia jammed more locking bars into rotating machinery. Kallik and Atvar H’sial worked together in the center of the vault, tackling structural supports. They found a tilted and unsupported ramp and heaved on it in unison. The domino effect of its fall brought a whole chain of beams crashing down.

Hans Rebka stood aloof and watched for unknown dangers. He marveled at the energies that the small group was calling into action. Devices in the interior of Genizee must have been designed for normal wear and tear, but not for deliberate sabotage. They employed great forces, finely balanced. And when that delicate balance was destroyed…

“Look out behind!” Rebka cried. A rotating flywheel at the far end of the chamber, removed from all load, was spi

Within ten minutes the chamber was a smoking ruin. The only movement was the shuddering of rigid cogwheels and the rising of steam.

“Very good,” J’merlia said calmly. “And now, we wait.”

And hope that whoever owns this place doesn’t get too mad with hooligans, Hans Rebka thought. But he did not say anything. J’merlia’s idea was wild, but who had a better one?

For another quarter of an hour there was nothing to see or hear but the slow settling of broken equipment. The first sign that J’merlia’s strategy might be working came from an unexpected direction. The ceiling of the chamber had been crumbling, releasing a snow of small gray flakes. That fall suddenly intensified. The ceiling began to bulge downward in the middle, right above where the group was standing. They scattered to all sides. But instead of dropping failing struts and broken beams, the bulge grew. The ceiling parted, to become the bottom of a silvery, rounded sphere.