BALBAO

 

Balbao didn’t register the intruders at first. He was deep in a sea of virtual images: Lorenz attractors, Tangent and Rossler maps and Listovich equations, the elegance and mystery of which had transported him far from the fraught IN chamber. Ra had shown him things he’d never dreamed to know, reconstructing a chaotic beauty and symmetry from an ancient humanesque theorem.

We’ve had the key to read our futures all this time, said virtual Balbao. But we’ve not known which way to turn it.

Frustrating and amusing, said virtual Ra.

And now?

And now to perturb the stability of the system.

Virtual Ra flew at the ocean of fractals with fierce active hands. As he worked, their symmetries faltered and began to change, so that they became a chain of staggered links. Ra stabbed at the breaks in their flow, prising them apart. Then he began picking at them like a carrion bird, searching through them for... what?

Aaah. There. Virtual Ra disappeared, funnelling down into the break in the fractal like water draining through a low point.

Virtual Balbao felt the pull as well, the attraction of the break that Ra had manufactured. His perspective began to alter, the diagrammatic vanished and he found his mind-self immersed in a spinning well of images—fleeting, overwhelming rushes of information that Balbao couldn’t possibly process.

Ra was ahead of him diving in and out of information accumulations, ripping and tearing and flinging segments about.

What in Crux is he searching for? Balbao fretted. What is he doing?

That’s when he heard the fracas.

He ripped the pad from his neck and blinked into a nightmare: gunfire and screams as plain-garbed women—insurgents of some kind—swarmed over Farr’s soldiers with scimitars and soft-projectile guns. The soldiers replied with their own weapons.

The coralled technicians dropped to the floor on instinct, spreading out in all directions, and over against the far wall a large figure was crouched over a glowing cutting tool. Another woman, not quite as big but with equal purpose about her, held anyone who might interfere with the cutting at bay with her gun.

‘Stop them!’ Farr screamed at Petalu Mau.

Mau moved across the IN towards the two women.

The armed one cocked her weapon.

‘Stay back!’ she yelled.

‘Petalu Mau. It’s Thales, Bethany’s friend. We have to close the shift sphere; otherwise the Post-Species will annihilate the planet.’ This shrill shout came from the hatchway of the IN where a lean young ‘esque stood.

Balbao knew the face, the scar and the fine features, the cultured voice; this ‘esque had spoken at the summit meeting on Intel station.

Mau stopped, momentarily confused.

‘Thales Berniere. What in—’ Lasper Farr didn’t bother to finish. He snatched a gun from one of his soldiers and fired across the room. It took the armed woman in the shoulder and she went down.

‘Janne!’ Thales Berniere started into the IN.

At the same time Balbao became aware of Ra. The Godhead had removed his pads and was standing, fists clenched.

Balbao rose automatically. ‘What?’

‘It’s him,’ muttered Ra. ‘He’s the disruption.’

‘Who? What do you mean?’

But Ra moved without answering, lunging towards Thales Berniere.

His movement snapped Balbao from his daze and he made a quick and unalterable decision.

‘Petalu Mau!’ he roared in full Balol battle voice. ‘Sammy says the time is now! THE TIME IS NOW!’ The huge bodyguard jerked his head towards Balbao, who nodded vigourously. ‘I’ve been in the ship’s containment with her.’

As the meaning of the message seeped in, Mau changed direction. He swung at Lasper Farr as the Commander raised his weapon to shoot the woman cutting through the wall. The teranu threw out a powerful jaw-breaking sideswipe that sent Farr down without a sound. He seized the scimitar from Janne’s bleeding hand and hacked into the Commander’s neck. Violent chopping motions splintered his backbone in a gush of blood.

Balbao wrenched his horrified attention back to Ra. The Godhead was advancing on Thales Berniere. Though not much bigger or heavier than Thales, Ra had a burning intensity about him, a feverish unholy energy. He waved a knife with eager but inexpert hands.

Thales stepped behind a workstation and stumbled over a body.

‘We’re in!’ roared the woman with the cutting tools. She kicked in the wall panel, calling the insurgents with her. Mau followed as well.

The knot of technicians lying on the floor scrambled to their feet and ran for the hatch.

Suddenly, only three people were left alive and on their feet in the IN: Thales, Ra and Balbao.

‘Ra!’ bellowed the Balol chief. ‘Stop!’