Ripped Apart: Quantum Twins – Adventures On Two Worlds (10 page)

Four young voices gasped. They were in the XzylCavern, round and with a domed ceiling it appeared to be larger than the entire house, which it was. They were high up on a gallery. It ran around the dome and took them with it. Far, far down below, there was a great seething mass of swirling colour, noise and vibration. Every now and then a piece would leap up like a wave, curl over at the top and fall back with a strange glooping sound.

As the gallery brought them back to the entrance, Lellia asked: ‘Have you had enough for your first visit, or do you want to try a mentasynch with the twins now?’

There was a pause as the friends realised that they were no mind contacts. Lellia heard the faint sound of four pairs of lips being moistened, followed by four subdued yeses.

‘Walk around this gallery. Take your time. Look around and get used to the fact that you have to speak aloud. Get used to the vibrations you can feel and the sight of the Stroems. Do not be afraid. I will not bother you with all the technicalities that are built in for safety. However strongly the Stroems Xzyle, they cannot reach you up on this gallery.’

The friends did as instructed. The longer they walked around, the more they peered into the depths, the less afraid they became.

With a great, jagged sound like a thousand strips of calico being torn, a mighty scarlet Stroem reared up towards them. They leapt back against the wall. A contorted, orange head appeared, a long snout extruded and sharp fangs curved down from the top of its mouth and over the lower jaw. Drool dripped from the sides of its mouth as its jaws opened wide enough to swallow them all. A forked, black tongue flashed out between the two rows of yellow teeth. Four pairs of tiny, bloodshot eyes focussed individually on each youngster. They gleamed with anticipation. Bright lines of coruscating colour reached out from all around the walls and held the horror well below the gallery. Shoulders appeared as it dropped its head. Muscles in the shoulders and neck strained. It was obvious it was going to try to leap up past the barrier and devour the friends.

Trembling and too frightened to move, the four reached out, held hands and merged energy fields.

The beast’s head lifted up almost to a level with the gallery. Bright light exploded in a ring all around it, momentarily dazzling the youngsters before the visuglobes darkened. With a scream the visage collapsed and disappeared in a mass of swirling Xzyls.

‘Let’s go,’ Lellia called, deciding that they had experienced enough for their first visit to the Stroems. She pointed towards the exit.

With the Stroemlock firmly closed, Lellia told them to enter the both and say: ‘Visit ended.’ When she came out of the booth she led them into a cosy side room and asked House for a large jug of multijuice and several bowls of craklesnax.

Fifteen minits of happy munching later, Tamina sent a private thought around the other three. They agreed. She turned to Lellia.

‘I’m sorry Tamina, your Privacy Shield was not strong enough. I heard your thought.’ Lellia smiled. ‘If all four of you really are sure you’re ready to return?’

All four nodded, looks of determination on their faces.

‘Now you have just spoiled your appetites…’

Lellia was deluged by a horrified exclamations.

‘And Eeky’s ALWAYS hungry,’ Tamina added.

Lellia laughed and a sound of violins, cellos and muted horns filled the room. ‘Thank you my dears. That’s done me the world of good. Come. Let’s find what Cook has got for us.’

Cold. Numbing cold assailed Qwelby from all sides. Eyes opened.
My eyes?
The world was white. Buffeted by harsh wind, he wrapped his arms around himself as the snowstorm battered him. As the winds swirled the snow there was a brief gap. He caught a glimpse of buildings, grey in the half-light. Then the snow blotted them out.

Shelter. Must find shelter.

He staggered forwards. A building loomed up before him. As he stepped into the lee of the wall, the wind eased. Rubbing his torso to keep warm he remembered his training and rapidly built his inner fire, letting the inner furnace pump the heat around his bloodstream.

The shivering stopped. He looked around. He did not recognise his surroundings. Through the snow he made out several tall buildings but no sign of any doors or windows. They were bland, uniform and grouped close together. Nothing like he had ever seen anywhere on Vertazia. The complex had the feel of a strange working area, closed for a celebration day. Behind him there was only the driving snow, thick, white turning to grey, impenetrable.

He turned back. The way ahead did not look promising, but somewhere there had to be doors and people. He started to walk, remembering to keep his inner fire burning brightly. Without seeing any doors or windows it was difficult to think of what he was passing as buildings. A brief lull in the winds and through the steadily falling snow he was able to make out more towering walls on the other side of the road. As far as he was able to see, more stretched away in front of him. There were occasional gaps wide enough to allow large powersleds to travel two or even three abreast.
Surely they must lead to where there are people? Perhaps access is through tunnels from a central area. A plaza with shops and caf
é
s. Hot drinks!

Trying to work out where that centre might be, he stopped at a crossroads and turned all around. Behind him, half masked by the falling snow, were two shapes. People. He took a step towards them. Sensed danger. Stopped. They were dark, colourless. Where were their energy fields? Again the winds shifted, momentarily parting the snow and giving him an almost clear view. They did have energy fields, but they were as dark as their shapes. A man and a woman. They felt like predators.

He hastened down a narrow passageway to his left, moving quickly between the tall buildings that loomed menacingly over him.

Where are the entrances? I know. If I walk all around one building I must find the way in.
He quickened his pace even more and turned right at the next corner. There at the end of the street were the two figures, coming towards him. Frightened, he turned and ran back the way he had come.

The meal finished, the four friends returned to the cosy room where Lellia told them more about the Stroems and how they would work with them.

Back inside the XzylCavern the youngsters were startled by the difference. Although well below the gallery this time, the myriad streams of coruscating light holding down the vigorously Xzyling mass of colour made it look as though the Stroems were again eager to reach out to them.

‘This is not good.’ Lellia’s voice came clearly through the speakers in their helmets. ‘It is far too dangerous to work with them today. I’ve never seen them this disturbed.’

‘They want to talk to us,’ Wrenden said.

‘Don’t be daft, Eeky,’ Tamina said. ‘You know what Aunt Gallia has just explained to us.’

‘But they’re energy. And energy can talk,’ he said in a petulant tone of voice.

‘Your sister is right, Wrenden,’ Lellia confirmed. ‘Remember, the Stroems are a trans-dimensional vortex. Lungunu is built over one of the six focal points that bind us to Azura. They are energy of a very different nature to the semi-sentients like House and Lift to which you are accustomed.’

‘Look!’ called Pelnak excitedly. ‘Faces.’

He was right. They could all see the rearing tops of the Stroems forming into impressions of faces. This time they saw several. Eyes and mouths were not in the right places. Noses appeared where ears should be. The more the Stroems fell back and rose again, the more realistic were the faces they formed.

The youngsters were drawn to the railings around the gallery, peering over, mesmerised by the uncanny likenesses to real faces that developed.

Lellia nodded to herself. The youngsters had passed the Stroems’ test on their first visit. Now the Stroems were trying to interact.

‘Qwelby!’ Wrenden cried as a face appeared immediately below him. He bent over the railing around the gallery. Peering down he saw that everything had changed. He was looking through the colourful Stroems at a dreary collection of tall buildings, swathed in snow. They made a uniform grid-like layout. As he scanned the scene, indistinctly through the snow he saw what looked like a long ladder, some distance away.

*

Qwelby stopped and looked around. No-one in sight.

‘Up here.’

Looking up he saw a figure on top of a roof. Was it? Yes, surely. ‘Wrenden. Is that you?’

‘Yes.’

‘How do I get to you?’

‘Go that way,’ Wrenden called, pointing in the direction Qwelby was heading.

As the wind swirled the snow around, Qwelby momentarily saw a long, wide passageway that seemed to go on forever. On the sides of the buildings past the next intersection were open stairways reaching from the tops towards the ground. Weird. He was sure his eyes were not deceiving him, but the stairs seemed to stop several metres off the ground.

Comforted that Wrenden was there for him and assuming the others must be around, he headed for the first of the puzzling stairs.

He came to a side passage. Looked up. Where was Wrenden?

‘I’m here,’ his friend called from the top of the next building.

Puzzled as to how Wrenden had managed that, yet at the same time relieved that he was still there, Qwelby continued to make for the first stairway. Horror! Through the swirling snow he saw dark shapes coming towards him.
How can they move so quickly?
He turned to look back the way he had come. Now they were close behind him. No! He shook with fear as he realised that there were four people following him. The word ‘corralling’ came into his mind, followed by ‘capture.’

‘Quick, Qwelby, this way,’ Wrenden called, gesturing him back to a side passage he had just passed.

A sudden shiver of cold reminded Qwelby he had forgotten to keep his fire going. He focussed on that as he turned back and ran down the sideway. As he reached another crossroads a gust of wind knocked him into the corner of a building. He cried out as pain shot through his arm, looked up for Wrenden. Another jolt. He saw what he assumed were windows. All shuttered with blinds or something similar, the same grey colour as the walls.

‘Qwelby!’ came the urgent cry. Up on the top, Wrenden was pointing around the next corner. Stepping around to his left, Qwelby saw one of the strange flights of open steps. He ran towards it, jumped but could not reach the bottom rung. Tried again. No good. It was several feet out of reach. Weird. It looked as though there was a ladder attached to the bottom. Stairs you could only go down, or up, if someone came down first?

He felt a sense of foreboding and looked back. All four people were coming up behind him. Two men and two women, spread out across the street, like safety wardens trying to herd a dangerous animal into a trap. There was something scary about the way they walked so steadily. No sense of hurrying, as though they knew whatever he did they would catch him. It reminded him of an HWScary he had experienced. With those he could always get out and back to the comfort of the HoloChair. He never did. But he could. Now there was no such escape. But at least he was not cornered, there were three more passageways he could run down, and his four friends were here to help him.

*

Tamina was struck dumb. She was looking at Qwelby’s face. It had his energy. As Tullia’s elderest she always had a strong link with Qwelby, but it was through Tullia. This felt similar as though the link was coming through the Stroem.

The face dissolved as the Stroem fell back into the seething mass.

The Stroems Xzyled even more vigorously than before. They were swirling around, faster and faster, forming a deep whirlpool. The deeper the centre, the higher up the walls of the Cavern the edges reached until the light beams were pulsing all around the gallery, holding the top of the whirlpool down. With a great roar, the whirling edges sank back and a single giant Stroem reared up, past the net of light, hovering almost at the edge of the gallery. This time the face was perfectly formed.

‘Qwelby!’ Tamina cried.

Looking up, Qwelby saw Tamina, Tullia’s elderest and Wrenden’s older sister. As well as their esting relationship, he and Wrenden were BestFriends, and enjoyed playing-up Tamina as she was so serious and a definite bossy-boots, made worse for Qwelby by the fact that she was a lot taller than him. He would never admit to it, but with Pelnak only four months older than he was, he did look up to Tamina in some ways as a sort of elderest for himself. Her presence there on the roof was reassuring.

‘Quick! Run,’ Wrenden called from further along the roof. ‘They’re getting closer.’

‘Down here,’ came Wrenden’s command as Qwelby reached the next corner. He stopped and looked up to see Wrenden signalling him round yet another corner. A few moments later another shout.

Everything was too surreal for either Qwelby or Wrenden to stop and wonder how the latter kept on being on different roofs, in the right places at the right times.

‘Stop!’ Wrenden called.

As Qwelby looked up the end of a rope fell by him. He could see Tamina behind her young brother with her arms around his waist. He assumed the not-twins were behind her. He grabbed the rope.

‘Okay. I’ve got it. I’ll tie myself on,’ he called, looking up. The top half of the building disappeared behind thick, driving snow. The climb up did not look inviting.

‘No time,’ came Wrenden’s voice. ‘You walk, we pull.’

Qwelby glanced to his left. Two dark figures, a man and a woman were almost upon him. A glance to the right. The other man and woman were faintly visible through the snow that was now falling faster.

A pull on the rope jerked him into the wall. He almost lost his grip. Quickly, he leant back, put one foot high up the wall and started to walk.

The shuttered windows had thin ledges. He must have failed to see them because of the thick snow. He would have liked to rest on the ledges but the rope had been dropped down between the lines of windows.

The higher up the wall he climbed, the more the wind battered at him. Thick snow was concealing his friends on the roof. His arms were aching and it was difficult to keep going as there were unsettling jerks on the rope.

He was wondering how much further he had to go. Unable to see the top he had no way of measuring the distance. Having to concentrate so much on walking up the wall he had no energy left for his inner fire. He was freezing and was afraid his hands were about to lose their grip on the rope. He saw ice forming all along his bare arms and down his bare legs. Ice was glistening on his red tank top and his black shorts, the only colour in the whole scene.

An extra strong gust of wind opened a clear view through the snow.

What was happening? He could see Wrenden holding the rope, Tamina’s arms still around him. He could not see Pelnak or Shimara. His arms were trembling with the cold. His fingers were freezing. It looked as though streams of ice were running down the rope. He saw the ice flaking off. No! It was the very strands of the rope itself coming apart. His eyes were watering.

He was almost at the top. He was stuck. Angled out from the wall his feet could go no higher. He needed his friends to pull the rope towards them. He tugged at it, trying to pull himself closer, saw Wrenden start to topple towards him, Tamina’s arms sliding down her brother’s body, down his thighs. The rope slackened and Qwelby dropped, swung, and crashed against the wall. Cries of pain from above as brother and sister crashed onto the roof.

Momentarily stunned, Qwelby stared at the rope, mesmerised as he saw strand after strand snapping.

‘Qwelby!’ It was more of a gasp than a shout.

*

In the StroemCavern, well above the coruscating light beams that were supposed to keep the Stroems in check, an ear extended from the single, enormous Stroem to become an arm, reaching out towards Wrenden. A hand formed at the end.

Wrenden threw himself down onto the floor of the gallery, stretched through the railings, reaching for the hand.

‘EEKY!’ Tamina shouted, throwing herself at his legs as he was pulled through the barrier.

*

Looking up, Qwelby saw Wrenden’s body halfway over the roof, one hand on the rope, his other arm extended, hand held out. Using every last drop of strength Qwelby hauled himself up the rope and saw the strands turning to ice, snapping under the strain.

‘Qwelby,’ Wrenden pleaded.

Tensing himself, gripping the rope with his left hand as hard as possible, Qwelby gave one mighty heave, felt his body rise, stretched his right arm up and seized his young friend’s wrist. He felt a hand grip his own wrist, heard a series of sharp cracks, and watched as the rope fell out of sight. Then felt a second hand grip his wrist.

No sooner had he believed himself safe than he dropped, heard cries of pain, then stopped, swinging. Looking up, he saw that Wrenden had slid half way over the sheet of ice that edged the roof. Bent at his stomach he was hanging upside down.

‘EEKY!’ Tamina shouted.

Qwelby heard the panic in her voice and watched helplessly as her brother slid right over the roof and he himself dropped further down, almost losing his grip as he crashed into the wall again.

‘TAMINA!!’ Qwelby heard the not-twins cry, followed by the sound of their bodies slamming into the StroemGallery as they hurled themselves at her as she headed over the edge of the roof.

Qwelby looked into his BestFriend’s face, seeing the mixture of horror and panic written all over it. Another slip as Tamina was pulled further over the roof edge. Panicked cries from the not-twins out of sight on the roof, and a cry of alarm from Wrenden as he swung in the air. Tamina had slid so far that her stomach was on the edge of the roof. She was hanging upside down, her face to the wall with only her brother’s feet in her hands.

Qwelby knew if he did not let go, Tamina would slip again, and all three of them would fall, to be lost forever in the NoWhenWhere. He looked into his youngerest’s rapidly twirling eyes: red, yellow and black. And released his grip.

‘NO…O…O!’ Wrenden screamed.

Too numb from the cold, and with the wet from the snow turning to ice, Wrenden’s grip was not strong enough. Qwelby watched as his friend let go with one hand, using it to make a grab for Qwelby’s free hand. With a shake of his head, Qwelby made a fist so there was no hand to be seized. Eyes locked together. The two boys felt Qwelby’s icy wrist slide through Wrenden’s grasp.

Qwelby smiled ruefully. This time Tullia could not tell him off, accusing him as she usually did of leading Wrenden astray. For once he was being a proper elderest.

‘Never apart!’ Qwelby called as he fell.

‘QWELBYYY!’ He heard Tamina’s scream as he tumbled backwards, the snow beating into his face, blotting everything from his vision

He fell in slow motion, arms and legs stretched out in front. ‘There is more colour than red and black,’ his mind said. ‘There are my red-brown arms and legs. They will save me. If I can twist around and be a cat. Land on all fours, just like in a HoloWrapper.’

A flurry of snow was dashed into his face. He closed his eyes against the stinging. Felt it on his checks and his forehead as he plummeted down

~

down

~

down

~

Lellia was beside herself with fear as she spoke to Control Panel, beseeching it for more energy into the safety beams, then changed her mind. Wrenden had completely disappeared from sight and only Tamina’s feet were visible above the Stroem.
What if Wrenden is below the safety level, he will be cut off, lost in the Stroems, sucked into the NoWhenWhere. And Tamina. Could she be cut in two?
Leila punched the emergency alarm that would bring Mandara. For an emergency like this, no matter how much it would be disturbed, Lift would make the journey.

Rejecting all thoughts of Temporal Consequences, Mandara overrode Lift’s counsel and they Timeshifted, Lift setting Mandara and Shandur down at the end of the corridor. They ran to the StroemLock, Shandur grabbing insulshoes as Mandara opened the outer iris. Even with Timeshifting they dared not waste precious moments acquiring helmets.

A frightening scene greeted them. Shimara and Pelnak were half way through the railings, their legs partly wrapped around the stanchions as they slipped further over the edge of the gallery. Their heads and the top halves of their bodies were lost from sight in the throbbing Stroem, its bright emerald green and streaks of vivid red clearly saying “Qwelby.”