Antumbra
The Antumbra Realm
THE CAST:
Grace, Bakta, Sam
Grace stared at herself in the full-length mirror. The accordant suit covered her body, the fluidic material melding to every contour, smoothing out any crack or blemish. Only her face, hands and feet were exposed. She felt naked without her head cap jewellery, but every ring and stud needed removing if the suit was to be effective.
She checked the contents of her bag one last time. Six rings that made up the divergent apparatus – one, two, three, four, five, six. A second bag for her personal effects and a suit for Ventar. The black skinsuit made her think of Daviss. Would he like me in this? Her reflection in the mirror looked a little overweight.
The pack that would feed and oxygenate her blood and deal with her waste products in a micro-targeted manner was under the suit around her waist. It was good for the next three months. Ellsworth explained she would need to be fully encapsulated from the negative world. The slightest of leaks and she would be trapped there forever. You won’t be seeing Daviss there, she told herself. Accept it.
Tomorrow, Bakta and the Civil Council would discuss whether to allow the high elder to go and if they did, who would accompany her. Most of them thought this was a foolish idea, having no foundation in science or fact.
That’s why she was going tonight.
She put on her cloak and sandals, picked up the satchels, and slipped out of her bedroom door. As she left the palace, she noticed a shadow in the dark, watching her.
Grace left the Palace of Ancestors, heading south to the coast, walking into the night on the coastal path until she was well clear of the city, slowly enough to make sure her shadow wasn’t overly taxed. The prince had been in or around the palace when he disappeared. In the gentle light of the twin moons, she put on the divergent apparatus – one ring around her waist, one around her neck, and the remaining four on her wrists and ankles. Tentatively, she switched the device to mode one. The meter acknowledged the creation of three perfectly-formed particle shields around her, separated by a wafer-thin gap of vacuum. The self-regulated breathing sequence activated. She put her robe and sandals on and slung the satchel over her shoulder, ensuring a close fit. She was ready to go.
‘Are you sure about this, Princess?’ Bakta the Overseer asked, stepping out of the shadows.
‘I’m sure, Your Grace,’ replied Grace, unfazed at his appearance.
‘How long have you been aware of my presence?’
‘Since I left my room. I would have been disappointed if you hadn’t expected this.’
‘I know you, young one,’ the old Vercetian smiled, ‘but you know me better.’
‘You’re looking great, Your Grace. But how many times have I said that since my return?’ Grace showed him the meter in her hand. ‘Two more buttons to press, and I’ll be gone. Don’t send anyone after me.’
‘Not even Domi?’
‘Especially not Domi,’ Grace laughed. ‘You wouldn’t be that cruel to me, would you?’
‘What about the other prince?’ asked Bakta. A distinct pause before her reply told him the answer.
‘No. Please don’t send Prince Camcietti.’
‘What does the next button do?’ Bakta didn’t want to press the subject any further.
‘It fills the outer layer of the suit with antimatter.’
‘You are playing with the mythical power of gods,’ the Overseer said grimly. ‘What’s stopping the whole of the surrounding area vaporising when you expose it? I assume that’s the ultimate step – exposing the antimatter.’
‘Yes,’ replied Grace, ‘the ultimate step. I’ll deactivate the outer particle field. The perfectly unbroken form of the antimatter permits it to collapse inwards, transferring instantly to the Antumbra realm. Matter/antimatter rules, I’ve been told. It will be quite safe.’
‘And that’s why you’ve travelled ten miles away from the city?’
‘Er, just in case,’ she replied. ‘I assume any thoughts of talking you into returning to the city would be fruitless?’
‘You assume correctly. Anyway, someone needs to witness your safe transfer. And if we both disappear, they will have a puzzle of some magnitude to solve.’
‘Ha ha, that will cause some head scratching. Does my voice sound the same? You are hearing it via a tiny microphone.’
‘It sounds perfect. Time for you to go, High Elder.’
‘I love you, Your Grace. Step back.’
‘And I love you too, Manjena. Press the button!’
Grace arrived in the Antumbra realm at the same place she had left Bakta, but it was the middle of the day, judging by the altitude of the sun, and in sight of the Great Sea. She could only hear the rolling waves before, but here the sea dominated the southern landscape. She marvelled at how beautiful the view was. There was no sign of the Great Shield. The route to Verbala was two tracks, rather than the ornately paved and walled path Grace had arrived on. She reactivated the outer particle field, creating a second layer of vacuum around herself – an additional level of insurance against this anti-world – and began her journey to Verbala, or to where Verbala would have been.
As she walked, the constricting suit eased around her. Not breathing was unnerving but as she was not choking to death, she soon adapted to it. She couldn’t feel the wind or the air temperature, after all she was covered by two layers of vacuum – a perfect insulator. She checked her suit controller, scrolling to ambient conditions: Temperature 23C, Humidity 44%, Wind speed 7.4 mph from the northwest. Thinking it was a pleasant day, she continued on, cocooned in her protective bubble.
After half an hour, she was sure the sun was crossing in the opposite direction or, more precisely, Preenasette was spinning in the other direction. A flash of light caught her attention. A beautiful crystalline structure glittered high in the atmosphere overhead. It looked magical – a translucent star reflecting the light from the sun, in glorious colours, as light would react passing through a prism. She gazed at its beauty for a time, then checked her compass. It pointed exactly opposite to what she would expect at home – the northern geometric pole diverging rather than converging. All the opposites she was expecting. Grace wondered if the countryside had a reddish hue or if that was a trick of seeing it through the double vacuum – lensing or bending the light giving a false visual impression.
‘Hello. Who you?’
Grace started and replied, ‘Hello. I’m Grace. Who are you?’ The creature looked friendly enough, perched on the front of a wooden cart, holding reins attached to a large, docile brown and white quadruped. The three horns on the animal's head could have been alarming on a different creature, but the droopy eyes removed any chance of that. She wondered why she hadn’t heard them come up behind her and thought she might need to fiddle with the hearing filters.
‘Don’t know. Do you know my name, Gracie?’
‘It’s Grace. I’m sorry, I don’t know your name. Where are you going?’
‘Don’t know. Do you know where I’m going, Gracie?’
‘No, I don’t, but if you want company, we could travel together.’
‘That will be nice, Gracie. And we will end up at the same place together.’ The creature’s smile showed a top row of teeth with big gaps between them, that somehow, she thought, matched his firm chin with thick black bristles like needles. She climbed up and sat next to him, showing a picture of Prince Ventar. ‘Have you seen this boy?’
‘Er, no,’ he answered, and dramatically shook the reins. The beast responded by breaking into a plod.
‘Well, have you heard of a people called the Larna?’ she asked, following her promise to Throttlesworth to seek them out.
‘Er, no.’
‘What can I call you? You must have a name.’
‘Can you give me a name, Gracie? I’m sure I would like it,’ the creature replied, his mottled grey face creasing up in a smile.
‘Let me see,’ Grace said, taking a good look at him. ‘I think you look like a “Sam.” Do you like Sam?’
‘Sam is good. I like Sam.’
Grace tried to have a conversation with Sam, but found it hard work. He didn’t know if there was a town ahead of them, where Verbala had been, or even where he’s come from. He was happy though. Well, didn’t seem unhappy, she thought.
‘What is that beautiful star in the sky?’ she asked, pointing up.
‘It’s the Sun-star,’ Sam replied proudly, finally able to answer one of her questions. ‘It always chases the sun.’ He pointed to the west. A line of orange swept rapidly across the landscape towards them, changing the colour of the land behind it.
‘What is that?’ Grace asked.
‘Dunno.’
In her cocoon, Grace didn’t feel a quiver as the phase shift got closer her, or the tingling sensation when it passed over them. She could see a slight but tangible change in Sam. If she could have, she would have rubbed her eyes, but the accordance suit prevented that. He straightened slightly in his seat, slimmer now, somehow. ‘It’s the Orange time,’ the new Sam said. ‘How exciting.’
‘What is this Orange time?’ Grace asked.
‘Why, don’t you know Gracie? It’s the time when everything turns orange.’
‘Yes, but what’s the… don’t bother,’ she said.
‘Giddy up Buttercup,’ said Sam, shaking the reins with childlike pleasure. ‘We have places to be.’