Mane-of-Night And The Watcher From Beyond - Chapter 8

Telepaths, no matter how strong, how skilled, do their utmost to avoid contact with the minds of the mad - it's as dangerous as wandering naked through the jungle - but even though I've actually done that myself, and placed myself in the path of all manners of dangers several other times, I'm not so foolish that I'll dive into Sygarem's mind unprepared. His psyche presents a singular challenge: scarred, fragmented, even broken beyond repair, his mind is still the "trunk" of the wide-branching "tree" of his formidable psychic powers, and when the trunk of such a tree is rotten, or broken, it can take a lot with it when it falls...

...even me.

I sit, legs crossed, beside the motionless form of Sygarem, and commence the process of putting my mind completely at rest. Normally, this is a process I can complete without even trying - I can even doing whilst walking, or when others are talking, and expecting me to be listening to their every word - but on this occasion, I'm consciously monitoring every moment, every breath, every flicker of consciousness, for the entity is near enough to sense even momentary weakness, and possibly take advantage of it. The Skylance-X weapons crew are doing their job admirably, however, and whilst The Watcher considers their attacks to be little more than minor annoyances, not worthy of response, they're enough to allow me to prepare without intrusion.

Here goes...

I start to reach out with my mind, the mental equivalent of placing my hand on Sygarem's chest to feel for his heart-beat, but my "hand" keeps on descending, never approaching flesh and bone. Where I expect to find his psychic essence, I find only a void, a sign of total withdrawal - a sign that I'll have a lot more work to do than I'd hoped. I can only pray to The Greater Spirit of Mystalorn that it's also a sign that Sygarem only overreacted to the danger, withdrawing quickly and completely enough to preserve his mental integrity, but still too suddenly to allow him to emerge once more without help.

I allow myself to slide into the void, almost like sliding off the edge of a swimming pool and into the deepest water. I'm like a diver, holding my breath as I head for the sea bottom in search of precious pearls - in this case, a single precious pearl that is the last scrap of Sygarem's conscious self, the last fragile link between his fleeting mind and the world of flesh and substance. As I expected, my dive is not carried out alone, for in the absolute blackness now surrounding me, things are moving; no octopi or jellyfish, but things better left unseen, squirming obscenities that would, had they minds and voices of their own, call The Watcher "brother" - and I immediately wish there were several books, most of them from Earth, visions of the truly hideous and alien, that I had never read...

A sensation of confinement begins to come over me, as though I am swimming down a narrow shaft, with razor-sharp rocks only inches away from me. It could be the first sign of Sygarem resisting The Watcher's assault on his sanity, a gesture of defence - a defence through which only I can pass safely, but which still gnaws at my composure, here and there... if I allow myself to imagine being snared on these rocks, catching my hair in a crack, that could be the end of me...

The imagined pressure of closeness diminishes as I descend even further, finding only open "water" all around me - I can safely "reach out" around me, and find no obstruction, no writhing nightmares accompanying me, lurking just out of reach in wait for me to falter. There is, however, the most achingly desperate sensation of loneliness, of being the one and only being there is, anywhere, and whilst it's only a passing sensation, once I refocus my thoughts, it's still enough to distract, to confuse... which way is up? Which way is down? Where do I got to get out of here...?

Even comatose, Sygarem is a formidable psychic force. This is his confusion I'm sensing, his helpless desperation I'm immersed in, his detachment from the physical that's coming dangerously close to sucking me down too, and if that's the truth, then my quest is almost at an end. Rather than be drawn down into his mental abyss, I have to conscious seek it, and at its centre, I should find what I am seeking.

Finally, I come to the bottom of the ocean of Sygarem's dissociation, where the first light in what feels like an eternity lies, manifest as a perfect pearl the size of a fist, on a bed of oily feathery weed. ***I... can't...***, it murmurs, the voice that of Sygarem, but younger, more innocent. The voice of a child. ***I don't want to go back...***

***You don't have to***, I tell him. ***Not yet. Not ever, if you don't want to, but I think you will. Your people need you. I need you, your power. There is a mission we have still to complete...***

***No! I mustn't...!***, wails the child-self, the pearl's light waning as Sygarem's mind seeks to retreat even further, almost to the point of extinguishing itself. ***It will find me... it'll eat me... Fh'taug'hless... Fh'taug'hless n'achuur... The ever-present voice... the enlightening song...***

***The Watcher...?***

***Fh'taug'hless...***, whimpers Sygarem-the-child. He confirms what I'd come to assume - he has given me the creature's name. A potentially decisive weapon - the creature's intellect may be fragmented, impossible for even a hundred Sygarems to wound to any worthwhile effect, but all of it is "Fh'taug'hless", an expression of unity of self, and that, in all cases, no matter how alien, is vulnerable.

***I must return***, I tell my Yafornian pupil. ***The task must still be attempted. At least grant me the light I'll need to find my way back...***

The exposed rock around the pearl glows brightly for a moment, becoming a carpet of smaller pearls, each containing its own scrap of consciousness. The central pearl is dimmer now, but it still carries enough radiance to reveal some of my surroundings. ***Let me guide you... at least part of the way***, says Sygarem, this time with an adult's voice, and greater confidence than before. ***Guide you... as you guided me...***

Taking the pearl in my "hands", I start to swim upwards, confident that my path is true. In only a few seconds, I start to see the roof of a great cavern, a chamber with walls that seem more like flesh than jagged stone. Directly above, there is a pulsating fleshy valve, like part of the heart, and when it opens, there's a great sensation of suction, against which I can't hope to fight, and I am drawn upwards with a great rush, and a crushing feeling of intense pressure...

"...Mane-of-Night? Can you hear me...?"

It's Symmarae, on the internal comm-system, and I'm sprawled on the floor, next to Sygarem. "I... I'm here", I respond, not bothering to try and get up just yet, not while I'm still fighting for breath. "What is it...?"

"We're having to take the cannons off-line again - the focussing coils are overheating", she reports. "We're also down to our last ten torpedoes. Do you want us to continue firing?"

"N...no", I tell her, massaging my forehead and the bridge of my nose to drive out some of the remaining sensation of great pressure that remains inside my head. "Save them for one last combined salvo, right into the heart of the creature. Hopefully, that'll be enough..."

"Is Sygarem ready to try again?", asks the Commander.

I sit up, my head clearing as I do so. My hands still feel warm, as though I was still holding the pearl - to Mystalornan eyes, there is still something there; a faint psychic aura that grows stronger whenever I bring my hands together, as though to form a cup to holding something precious. And from that aura trails a glittering strand, a fragile ribbon of psychic essence, leading down to Sygarem's forehead... it seems that I brought back more than his "light", his "warmth".

It's a psychic link; a conduit through which I can channel his power. I hadn't had the time to train him how to do such a thing, and that makes it dangerous to attempt, risky to use, but our options are down to almost none. It's clear that, even in his comatose condition, Sygarem still intends to fight, and I won't deny him that.

"He's as ready as I am", I reply to Symmarae's query. "How long 'til Skylance Defender joins us?"

"We'll be joining them, actually", she tells me. "Skylance Defender is joining Skylance Avenger at a stand-by position just outside the home-worlds. Both ships will assist us as we approach their position - presently, we're half a wall-walk from Point Zero. I hope I didn't interrupt anything important - I thought you should know..."

Half a wall-walk? That's the equivalent of maybe twenty minutes, standard time - have I been communing with Sygarem for that long - half a day, at least? Had my attempt to contact him taken any longer, it would all have been for nothing. Thank you, Symmarae.

"...are you all right?", asks the Commander. "You sound rather... drowsy. I can send Taskorra from our psionic team down to assist..."

"We'll be fine", I respond, breathing deeply, slowly. Another active mind down here could disrupt the link, and that could cost us dearly. I'd rather spend these last few minutes alone, try to strengthen the link as best I can, and ready myself for the pain - I'm in no doubt that this will hurt, but I am a Child of Mystalorn, and whenever those in need call for me, I cannot turn away.

And so begin the longest minutes of my life to this date. I try not to hurry along the strengthening of the link, allowing myself to be distracted now and then by the "smart-window" as it shows me images from "Point Zero", where Yafornis's tiny yet valiant space-fleet is gathering for one final attempt to stop The Watcher. I immediately recognise Skylance Defender, with its shorter "wings" and weapons-laden nose fins, but I am not familiar with the second vessel; its wings are even shorter than Defender's, but with nose-fins easily as long as the vertical engine supports of Skylance-X - this must be Skylance Avenger...

There is, to my surprise, a third vessel, and a rather startling one. When we launched on our mission, I saw another ship like Skylance-X, midway through its construction, and through some miracle of engineering, that vessel is here too, still enclosed in its metal support cocoon, patches of its hull still to be fused into place - I can even see people and Mechanicals hard at work inside the ship's main body, and I can't help but admire their efforts, even though the whole ungainly mess, with engine pods strapped precariously to the web-like external framework, threatens to fly apart at any moment.

This is a race that deserves to survive, and I'll do all I can to make sure that happens.

"Point Zero, people of Shadow City, this is The Lady Talona", crackles the comm-system. "Yafornis is threatened by a power unlike any we have encountered in recent times" - her choice of words recalls the fact that one of the Lost Gods has passed this way, and not left her world unscathed - "but this time, we stand prepared to fight for our place in existence. Skylance Defender and Skylance Avenger stand between us and the enemy - even our latest creation, which this day granted the name Skylance Venturer, has been called forth to play her part - whilst Skylance-X has already engaged our enemy, and steadfastly spearheads the defence effort. The moment approaches, the way ahead leads through this adversity..."

"But, of course, you're not here to lead", I mutter.

The rest of the speech doesn't even register, apart from some rather curious emphasis placed on the ungainly phrase "rage of freedom". If she chooses to, she can explain it all to me later, after I do her job for her. For now, I'm content to hear the back-and-forth comms-traffic between the assembled starships as the moment of destiny draws ever closer, and the commanders at least seem to be approaching organised. "Undriless to Skylance-X and Skylance Venturer, we are ready to take up attack positions", says the Commander of Skylance Defender. "All weapons primed, all decks, all stations are at full readiness."

"Master of Engineering Taufrel to Skylance-X and Skylance Defender", calls in the leader of the inspiring operation to turn Skylance-X's unfinished sister ship into a weapons platform. "We have forward main guns, and a primary torpedo launcher at combat readiness - we'll give you all we can, but you should know we are carrying special ordinance, and we'd appreciate your best efforts to look after us..."

"Skylance Avenger to all ships", interrupts the last, anonymous Commander - if I've heard this right, he's probably the field commander of The One-Thirteen, Talona's task-force of super-rejects. "Let's box up the chat. We know what we're here to do. Let's get on with it."

"I give the orders", I interrupt. "I need you to tenderise the meat for me..."

"The Lady Talona sends personal greetings to you, Mistress Mane-of-Night", announces the Skylance Avenger commander. "She has informed us of your mission, and we stand ready to assist - give us the word, and it will be done."

"The word is 'tear that bastard a new rear end'", I respond, "and the time is now."

Now flying alongside us, their weapon-loaded noses turned towards The Watcher, Skylance Defender and Skylance Avenger open fire, energy beams plunging into the entity's cloak of dark matter, followed by a hail of torpedoes, their casings glowing red-hot. Again, the creature howls like a winter storm, but only briefly - then we can see the flashes of detonating torpedoes, exploding in the uppermost layers of the alien's pitch-blank shroud.

"Skylance-X to all ships - the intruder appears to be shielding itself", reports Symmarae. "Our sensors are picking up unusual energy patterns in the matter enclosing the creature. The cloak appears to be temporarily turning solid, wherever our torpedoes or energy beams penetrate - nothing we're launching is getting through..."

"It doesn't have to", I murmur to myself, drawing the "anchor" of Sygarem's psychic link closer to my chest. "This is just distraction, the bright lights, the illusionist's dancing girls - you never catch the 'pay-off' until it's over and done..."

***Is it time...?***, asks Sygarem, his psychic voice almost too feeble to detect.

***Yes***, I reply, bracing myself for his surge of power. ***Now...***

It's like exhaling fire, fire that only your stomach can contain without pain. It burns as it rises, rushing up into your throat then bursting out into the greater universe through your mouth, searing all the exposed flesh in its path. Nothing actually burns; the heat and pain are illusions, a psychic reaction to the vast amount of energy I'm channelling, energy that isn't mine, and I have to ignore those sensations as I try to control the energy-stream, and simultaneously incorporate into it that critical piece of information - the name of our enemy.

I penetrate the dark matter cloak with ease, for as far as the entity is concerned, this energy, "branded" with its own identity, is its own, and does not need to be resisted. By the time I make contact with its body, its actual physical substance, it's already too late, and those tiny "islands" of consciousness that make up the alien's totality of self can't escape from Sygarem's power. Together, we sear our way through the entity's mental landscape, incinerating those wisps of "thought" we come across - this time, we... we may just succeed...

***All ships, give it all you've got***, I call out. ***Burn the bastard.***

Skylance Defender and Skylance Avenger continue firing, whilst Skylance Venturer joins the battle, her construction "cage" shaking as she unleashes energy beams and torpedoes, and Skylance-X expends her final reserves, her last batch of torpedoes in a tight pattern, programmed for synchronous detonation. The Watcher emits a harsher, shriller cry, one that doesn't not tail off as before, as the swarm of projectiles succeeds in reaching its target, tearing open the monster's shroud as they explode. There, Talona - there's your "rage of freedom"...

I don't expect to get any response, but I do - and it comes from Sygarem. ***Goodbye...***

The stream of psychic energy drops off sharply, then there's one final burst, one that bypasses me entirely - my companion is acting completely on his own, fully conscious, looking his tormentor right in the... "face", daring it to destroy him, or be destroyed...

The psychic link stretches to its limit, then snaps, and the psychic energy flow ceases completely. I know at once that there's no point in trying to re-establish the connection, for there's nothing to connect to any more. Sygarem is gone; Yafornis's bravest son, her greatest weapon - that last spark of hope.

***Don't be so sure.***

I think that was Talona, but as I retreat from the monster's presence, shaking off the telepathic equivalent of ringing in my ears, I'm not entirely sure. I'm fairly confident that I hear Symmarae reporting that the ships are just moments away from crossing the orbit of "The Watchman", the frozen chunk of rock that is the outermost planet in the Yafornis system, and then again, there's mention of that strange phrase "rage of freedom", uttered this time by the acting commander of Skylance Avenger.

"Skylance Venturer to all ships - withdraw to ten thousand boundaries", instructs Taufrel. "I have received command clearance to deploy The Rage Of Freedom."

I get up off my knees, and drag myself over to the observation deck window. To my left, a magnified section shows me the makeshift starship Venturer, the shuttle bay in the underside of her almost completed main hull opening, allowing a dull greyish spherical object to exit, apparently without any motive power. There's something vaguely familiar about it, in that it seems to resemble the fusion reactor pod the Giparrac jettisoned in our path - and as I try to look closer, my previously blurry vision clearing, I see something else, far more than I expected. The telltale aura of magic - old, dark magic; perhaps even the same kind of magic that originally bound the entity within its rocky prison, for centuries, maybe millennia without number...

It's a combination that immediately fills me with dread. Some say that magic is just science that hasn't been explained yet, the application of energies yet to be fully studied and quantified, but that's an explanation only fit for inquisitive children. There is far, far more to magic than can ever be defined by equations and diagrams - and only someone who truly understood that would dare to attempt something like this. Talona... only Talona would dare this.

Skylance-X and Skylance Venturer pull away quickly, the latter vessel shedding pieces of its frail shell of scaffolding as it does so. The magic-wreathed sphere rapidly vanishes from sight as it is left behind...

The explosion occurs thousands of miles away, its shockwave only gently rocking Skylance-X, but I still feel it like a punch to the belly, driving me backwards, away from the observation port. The device doesn't just release a huge amount of energy - it tears the fabric of space, rapes reality... if Talona has miscalculated, she's doomed her world, and everyone on it. Oh, Goddess - she's intentionally created a dimensional rift.

I stumble over to the comm-panel, near the elevator door, and slam the heel of my hand into the control panel. "Run", I splutter when Symmarae responds. "Get us out of here...!"

I slide to the floor, exhausted, the words of the Commander and her crew relayed down to me by the comms-channel I've inadvertently left open. One only needs to hear the engines of Skylance-X whining, shrieking, as they fight against the powerful attraction of the dimension-rift to know that the battle is still far from over. I glance towards the smart-window, with all its read-outs and animated gauges, telling us that space seems to be tilting, sloping downwards into the rift - and I just catch the slightest glimpse of The Watcher as it succumbs, its many-tentacled mass and what remains of its shroud of dark matter pulled down into the spatial tear, hopefully crushed to oblivion as the disrupted forces of time, space and the Multiverse struggle to re-establish their proper order...

If those powers can't destroy the monster, then nothing can. We can only hope Talona got this right, for if the entity has survived, we'll have to go through this again, at some point in the future...

"Engines at point four over maximum output!", cries out the Skylance-X propulsion technician. "We're moving - the spatial incline seems to be lessening!"

"Confirmed", responds Korthem. "The rupture appears to be closing, its effect on surrounding space decreasing..."

"Any trace of the hostile?", enquires Symmarae.

"None we can detect", answers Korthem, sounding relieved. "It was dragged down into the rupture, like a crawlhunter washed down the waste extractor."

"And well rid of it we'll be", sighs the Skylance-X commander. "I hate crawlhunters."

I would laugh at the image, but I don't have the energy, or the inclination. I see nothing funny in what's happened, this past day and a half. Another Giparrac starship crew dead, but not before The Watcher inflicted itself upon them; Sygarem, possibly Yafornis's mightiest child, a corpse just feet away from me, every last scrap of psychic energy drained from him as he sacrificed everything he had for his world, his people...

Someone casts a shadow over me, but I can barely keep my eyes open enough to make out who it might me. Fine hair falls against my belly, my cheek, then gloved fingers sweep it away to allow a mouth to come up close to my ear. "My, how brave you've been", whispers Talona. "Talona and Yafornis thank you - we must express our gratitude in some fashion..."

I weakly push Talona away. "Not now", I mutter at her, angrily. "Sy-Sygarem - don't let him be forgotten... he - he was... brave one, not me..."

I just don't have the strength to resist as Talona leans over me again, and gathers me up in her arms. "Don't worry about that", she murmurs. "We need all the heroes we can get. I'll be grateful for someone else to share some of that burden - a honour I hardly deserve. Some burdens, however, are much more agreeable."

My flesh prickles with magic as I'm carried through a portal that spans the gulf between Point Zero and Yafornis, and the atmosphere of ozone and sterile metal on Skylance-X is replaced by a heady blend of more pleasant fragrances - exotic flowers, fine fabrics, warm leather, with an undercurrent of sweat and natural musk. For a moment, I find that far more frightening that The Watcher, or my experiences inside Sygarem's wounded psyche - the whole setting is rather too ominous for my liking...

... however, Talona doesn't take advantage of my weakened condition. She gently lowers me onto a soft bed, kisses my forehead, then silently removes herself from the room - and within a heartbeat, sleep claims me. I'm in no condition to fight it - questions, answers and condemnations can wait...

...to be concluded...

Posted at 23:17 on 07.07.2009


~ o O o ~


Previously...
Mane-of-Night And The Wayward Child - Chapter 4 - 23.10.2009
Mane-of-Night And The Wayward Child - Chapter 3 - 21.10.2009
Mane-of-Night And The Wayward Child - Chapter 2 - 19.10.2009
Mane-of-Night And The Wayward Child - Chapter 1 - 16.10.2009
Mane-of-Night And The Watcher From Beyond - Epilogue - 10.07.2009