Remembering his own first sight of the Krang's core, Flinx smiled to himself. The headache was not worsening and the pain was manageable-for the moment. Behind him, in the center of the skimmer, Tse-Mallory and Truzenzuzex were reminiscing aloud as they identified salient points of the alien edifice's extraordinary interior.

Though viewed this time through the eyes of a world-weary adult instead of those of an awestruck child, the sight that spread out before the skimmer was every bit as remarkable to Flinx as it had been the first time he had seen it. Visible through the intensifying but still diffuse blue-green artificial light that was concentrated in wavelengths intended for nonhuman eyes, wisps of cloud hovered near the impossibly distant ceiling of the colossal structure's hollow heart. Soaring a hundred meters high and more from the floor and extending downward toward the core of the planet itself, arcane machinery and alien instrumentation lined all four inner walls. Above that rose an infinitude of tubes and protrusions of every imaginable size, shape, and length. Some no bigger than a finger, others great enough in diameter to swallow a small ship.

Within the impenetrable walls of the Krang there was no wind. It was dead quiet. Half a million years dead quiet, Flinx reminded himself. Unlike the previous visit, when he and his companions had been forced to hike across the vast s.p.a.ce, this time they traveled across the immense amphitheater, pa.s.sing its alien chair-lounges, to the far side of the structure in the seats of the comfortable skimmer. Their destination was a platform that rose slightly above the rest of the yellow-white floor.

He threatened to drown in the flood of memories that washed over him at the sight of it.

After the skimmer set down gently, he waited until everyone else had disembarked. Overcome by the sights surrounding her and by the moment, even Clarity did not linger to wonder what was holding him back. She and Sc.r.a.p exited along with the others.

He followed in due course. The two scientists discoursed on their surroundings and how accurately they corresponded to their respective recollections. Clarity and Sylzenzuzex stood and marveled. But Flinx's attention was focused on the gla.s.sy, transparent dome that formed a canopy above the Tar-Aiym resting place. Like the rest of the Krang's interior, the platform was exactly as he remembered it: tilted slightly toward the amphitheater, a second smaller dome suspended above the lower, fibers and filaments and strands of alien conduit running from its pedestal to vanish into the walls and ground.

This had all happened yesterday, he told himself as he stared fixedly at the una.s.suming nexus of power and contemplation. In reality it had all happened more than a decade ago.

His, Bran Tse-Mallory's, and the Eint Truzenzuzex's memories were not the only ones that were stirring.

Deep within the heart of the unimaginable complexity that was the Krang, an awakening had begun. In response to the arrival of sentient beings, long-dormant connections were reestablished. Quiescent links flared to life. Illumination manifested itself in photonic blinks and flashes whose significance would have been lost on human or thranx. Bit by bit, section by section, element by element, core components of instrumentation that to an outsider would have appeared to owe their functionality more to magic than to known physics began to return to life.

At its core was a synthetic consciousness that was as different from the artificial intelligence that ran the Teacher Teacher as that simulated mind was from the brain of a fish. For the Krang, hardly any time at all had pa.s.sed. Recently ("recent" being, to the Krang, in itself a highly relativistic term) there had been certain developments of significance on its watch. It divined that more of these were now in the offing. as that simulated mind was from the brain of a fish. For the Krang, hardly any time at all had pa.s.sed. Recently ("recent" being, to the Krang, in itself a highly relativistic term) there had been certain developments of significance on its watch. It divined that more of these were now in the offing.

The great machine that was the Krang had been conceived and fabricated to protect its builders and itself from external danger. The threat that now loomed, distant but all too real, was beyond its considerable capability to defeat. In consequence of that it had periodically reached through realities other than s.p.a.ce-plus and s.p.a.ce-minus in hopes of finding allies that might serve to counter the oncoming menace. In its devout and consistent searching it had located two. Both, it developed, were also aware of the threat. Both by themselves were equally as helpless as the ancient Tar-Aiym weapon to offer up or propose a defense against the danger.

Operating in unison offered more promising possibilities. Particularly if a force able to bind all three of them together could be found. Unfortunately, such a unique and specialized link capable of functioning over such great distances could not be engineered-certainly not in the time remaining before total annihilation arrived.

Astoundingly, unexpectedly, unpredictably, it turned out that such a force already existed. Incredibly, the necessary trigger, the requisite input, had already been contrived. Made aware of its astonishing existence, all three inconceivably disparate ent.i.ties had for years toiled with subtlety and sensitivity to raise the trigger's awareness of itself and of what was at stake. To some extent the effort had clearly been successful. In exceedingly minute increments, progress had been made. The key had, if nothing else, been made cognizant of itself and its importance.

Whether it would function effectively remained to be seen.

Clarity had moved to stand next to Flinx. As she talked softly, Pip and Sc.r.a.p engaged in a feint fight from their perches on their respective masters' shoulders. Iridescent triangular heads darted sharply forward only to withdraw from each counterthrust as pointed tongues flicked harmlessly.

"The Tar-Aiym Krang." As befitted the surroundings, Clarity's tone was suitably subdued. "As many times as you've mentioned it to me, as often as you've tried to describe it, I don't think anything even you could have said, Flinx, could prepare someone for the reality."

Staring at the familiar tilted platform that beckoned from beneath the twin transparent domes, he nodded thoughtfully. "Images wouldn't have helped much, either. There's just too much of everything."

"And the weapons platform constructed by the same race, the one Tse-Mallory and Truzenzuzex want you to try and find again," she went on, "is the size of a small planet and has dozens of such devices?"

"Maybe hundreds," he muttered. "I didn't have time to take the full measure of it, Clarity. When I was on it I was-preoccupied."

She considered before replying. "How can something like this-building-do battle against the menace you've shown me?"

"It can't, by itself. But I'm hoping"-he nodded toward where Tse-Mallory and Truzenzuzex were conversing with Syl-"that the artificial intelligence in control of it can make contact with the corresponding AI that controls the weapons platform and obtain its coordinates and course." He indicated the resting place beneath the dome. "That's where the operator, or performer, lies. I've occupied that place myself, and another one very much like it on board the weapons platform." He looked down at her. "We're here so I can try to make contact again."

Her eyes met his. "What happens if you fail, Flinx? What if the intelligence that directs the Krang is no longer functional?"

"I believe it will still be functional, Clar. It survived lying dormant for half a million years. I don't think it will have stopped working in the past ten. It can't have changed that much in so short a period of time." He looked back toward the empty, beckoning platform. "On the other hand, I have."

"For the better," she insisted, putting a hand on his arm.

"Maybe." A sharper stab of pain shot through the back of his head. The throbbing that had commenced outside the entrance to the Krang had returned, with fervor. "We're likely to find out."

As she leaned close against him her voice dropped to just above a whisper. "Don't lie to me, Flinx. Don't try to make things easy, or mollify me with evasions, or patronize me out of love. How dangerous is this?"

Preempted by her directness, he could do nothing but resort to irony. "I'm going to try and make mental contact with a half-million-year-old alien war machine built by a battle-loving species that, when activated, is capable of projecting a Schwarzchild discontinuity strong enough to swallow starships and, for all I know, maybe entire planets." Putting his left arm around her shoulders, he squeezed firmly. "No danger there."

She smiled encouragingly. "Maybe you haven't changed as much as you think."

While he and Clarity were immersed in each other, his old friends and frequent mentors had arrived to rejoin them. Sylzenzuzex stood beside her Eighth, ready to lend support to both Flinx and the expedition's other female.

"Well?" was all Bran Tse-Mallory said dryly.

That was what the bold, ebullient merchant Maxim Malaika had exclaimed on numerous occasions during Flinx's first visit to this place, so many years ago. Well, it was time to move on. He was going to the well to see what kind of water he could draw. Well he would be if he survived. Well, well, and well.

What the h.e.l.l, he thought cynically. All he could do was die.

He climbed the dais to its skewed summit and paused there, peering underneath the transparent canopy at the vacant, waiting platform. Everything looked exactly as he remembered it. That much could have been antic.i.p.ated. What mattered was, would everything feel feel as he remembered it. Having previously been exposed to unimaginable, unknown forces beyond human ken, he had reacted and responded instinctively. Could he do so one more time and perhaps this time retain some control? Taking a last impa.s.sive breath he stepped forward and eased himself beneath the edge of the canopy. as he remembered it. Having previously been exposed to unimaginable, unknown forces beyond human ken, he had reacted and responded instinctively. Could he do so one more time and perhaps this time retain some control? Taking a last impa.s.sive breath he stepped forward and eased himself beneath the edge of the canopy.

On his right shoulder Pip immediately went taut, alerted to something commanding and unseen. The pebbly surface beneath Flinx's feet began to vibrate. From somewhere far below emerged the first inklings of a deep, pulsating mechanical moan that grew progressively more audible. The throbbing in his head grew abruptly more intense.

He considered stepping back, then steeled himself. There was was no going back, really. Not now, not here. Ignoring the pain and a growing dizziness, he stumbled forward until his legs b.u.mped up against the platform. Leaning forward, his hands resting on the edge of a superficially simplistic structure that was designed to accommodate a much larger body, he shook his head as he fought to retain balance and control. no going back, really. Not now, not here. Ignoring the pain and a growing dizziness, he stumbled forward until his legs b.u.mped up against the platform. Leaning forward, his hands resting on the edge of a superficially simplistic structure that was designed to accommodate a much larger body, he shook his head as he fought to retain balance and control.

Seeing him falter, Clarity started forward, only to find herself restrained by both Tse-Mallory and Truzenzuzex. Her worried gaze remained focused on Flinx. He was starting to sway, and not because of the increasingly frequent tremors under their feet.

"Let me go! He's in trouble, he's ... !"

"... Doing what needs to be done, child." The philosoph's gleaming compound eyes regarded her sympathetically. "Collect yourself, have courage, and watch."

Unable to break free of the combined human-thranx grasp, there was little else she could do.

"It hurts...."

Trembling slightly, Flinx reached one hand up to his forehead. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. This was not how he remembered it. This ...

A voice, or words, or a sudden thought. Somewhere between migraine and migrant. Inside his head. Inside his own thinking, but not his. Yet for all that, familiar.

WELCOME-BACK.

Just like that, his headache was-gone. Evaporated like spit on the sun. His skull still throbbed, but there was no pain. Refusing to dwell on the apparent contradiction, he climbed up onto the platform and lay down, positioning himself in the center. Slithering upward from his shoulder, Pip bundled herself into a tight coil near the top of his head. In a normal p.r.o.ne resting position she would have done so on his chest or his stomach. Reaching up, he stroked her muscular shape affectionately. She was and always had been his friend. His companion. His protector. Also an empathetic lens, involuntarily and reflexively focusing his peculiar Talent.

Taking a deep breath and using his heels, he pushed both of them upward. Up, until his head emerged beneath the second smaller, inner dome. He shut his eyes. Or perhaps they were shut for him.

Looking on from outside, Sylzenzuzex vocalized a sequence of clicks, whistles, and exclamations the likes of which she had never intoned before. Nearby, Clarity's eyes got very, very wide. As for Tse-Mallory and Truzenzuzex, they simply stood flanking her while providing the comfort of their physical presence. They had seen it all before.

The inner dome above Flinx's head began to pulsate with metallic bursts of the most intense deep purple. The outer dome exploded in a blistering burst of color in every conceivable hue: scorching crimson, crushing azure, fluorescent pinks, and electric greens. At unpredictable intervals b.a.l.l.s of colored lightning swelled to form bulges on the upper curves and crest of the dome. When they reached a certain blazing, crackling volume, they detached themselves and rose like electrified balloons toward the distant apex of the Krang's interior.

All that only signaled the beginning.

The great pipes and cylinders that lined the kilometers-high walls had sprung to life with sound as well as color. While bands of intense color ran up their towering flanks like flights of electricity from G.o.d's own van DeGraff generator, something deeper and harsher, wilder and more profound than the rumble underfoot began to fill the vast interior s.p.a.ce. It caused Clarity to cover her ears, and then it made her drop her hands and listen. The vibrations penetrated her flesh and being and soaked directly into her bones.

"That's music!" she shouted, trying to make herself heard above the martial alien thunder.

Next to her Tse-Mallory nodded, leaning close to yell into her ear. "Tar-Aiym music. Alien harmony and dissonance. Instrumentation of a scale and scope unequaled anywhere in the Commonwealth." He put a hand on her shoulder. "Contemplate it: ma.s.s as Ma.s.s."

She raised an arm toward the dome that was now fully enveloped in opaque, coruscating color. "What about Flinx? Does he hear it?"

On her other side the venerable philosoph turned from shout-whistling at Sylzenzuzex. "Only Flinx knows what he hears! And what he hears, Kssa!!lk Kssa!!lk, is barred to the rest of us. What we learned on our previous visit, so many years ago, is that this relic of an ancient people is both a musical instrument and and a weapon." a weapon."

Indicating that she understood, she returned her attention to the color-masked platform. Beneath the two domes occasional glimpses of her beloved flickered within the maelstrom of color and light. She a.s.sumed he was still alive and all right. She a.s.sumed so because she had to.

Flinx kept waiting for the pain in his head to return. It did not. Instead, he experienced a lucidity of perception he had come into contact with only rarely before. Experimentally, tentatively, he tried reaching out, as he had done when lying on a similar platform beneath a similar structure inside the great s.p.a.ce-traversing Tar-Aiym weapons platform itself. There had been no pain then, either. He had communicated successfully, albeit briefly and with notable directness and simplicity. This exchange would be more difficult, more fraught with uncertainty. His intention was not merely to make and maintain contact, but to ignite nothing less than a conversation.

WELCOME BACK.

He was positive that was what he had heard. Or felt, or sensed. The Krang was still alive. He He was still alive. was still alive.

Now he had to make his attempt while keeping it that way.

Above his head a coiled Pip twitched and spasmed, the unthinking Alaspinian minidrag serving as a lens to focus and intensify her master's feelings. As he had on the weapons platform, Flinx tried reaching out. He was but dimly aware of the vast play of light and sound that was going on around him. Would the ancient artifact respond to his mental push with more than just color and harmony and the tintinnabulation of alien percussion?

"You remember me," he struggled to project. To he struggled to project. To feel feel. It was the mental equivalent of expectantly spreading his hands to his sides.

It was sufficient.

Naisma was established. was established.

CLa.s.s-A MIND ... I REMEMBER YOU. YOU COME SEEKING HELP TO DEAL WITH THE THREAT THAT APPROACHES FROM BEYOND THE RIM.

Having no time to waste on it, Flinx withheld his astonishment. "You know of it?" "You know of it?"

IT DOMINATES. IT LOOMS. IT THREATENS ALL OF EVERYTHING. HOW COULD IT EXIST Un.o.bSERVED?.

Enthralled, he thought back to one singular experience of the past several years-and then to another, and another.

"You've been with me, of me. You pushed me to perceive the Evil."

ISELF, AND OTHERS.

"What others?" Flinx contorted slightly on the platform. Flinx contorted slightly on the platform.

OTHERS WHO KNOW YOU. OTHERS YOU CAN KNOW BUT I CANNOT. OTHERS WHO ARE AS DIFFERENT FROM ONE ANOTHER AS YOU ARE FROM I. BUT OTHERS WHO ALSO KNOW AND FEAR THAT WHICH THREATENS ALL. SOMEHOW YOU ARE THE KEY TO THE ONLY CHANCE OF STOPPING IT. YOU ARE THE ONLY LINK THAT EXISTS BETWEEN US.

The key. Flinx had heard that before. In dreams both asleep and awake. What was he now? Asleep? Awake? Or drifting in a state of which no physiologist had dreamed and for which there was therefore no definition.

"Why me?" he asked, not for the first time. he asked, not for the first time.

YOU ARE AN ANOMALY. YOU ARE A SINGULARITY. NOTHING THAT CAN BE PREDICTED CAN HALT THE AD VANCE OF THE THREAT. WHAT YOU ARE IS-NOT PREDICTABLE.

"I understand. I and my friends have given much time and thought to possible ways of stopping or diverting the menace that comes for all. There is another like you, another built-mind of the Tar-Aiym. I have seen it, been on it, communicated with it. Its structure contains multiples of yourself and the great force you can project. I and my friends believe it may be strong enough to stop the Evil."

I CANNOT MOVE. I AM FIXED TO THIS PLACE, AND TO THE CORE OF THIS WORLD THAT POWERS ME. I CANNOT FIGHT THE INVADER. NOR CAN THE OTHERS. NOT ALONE. PERHAPS TOGETHER WE MIGHT DO SOMETHING-YET WE DO NOT KNOW HOW. AS THE KEY, WE HAVE THOUGHT YOU MIGHT KNOW THE WAY.

The way? What was the Krang talking about? The only "way" Flinx knew was the possible one he had debated with Truzenzuzex and Tse-Mallory.

"I do have one idea," he explained solemnly. he explained solemnly. "Reach out, if you can. Seek the individuality that is akin to but greater than yours. Define and locate and enlighten it. Give me the coordinates. I and my friends will go to it. I will lie therein as I lie here, and give that of myself that no one and nothing else seems able to give-be it some kind of 'key' or whatever. If you and the triad of my dreamings can be there with me, at that moment, then we will see if the combining of our thoughts and minds somehow works to stop what is coming to destroy all." "Reach out, if you can. Seek the individuality that is akin to but greater than yours. Define and locate and enlighten it. Give me the coordinates. I and my friends will go to it. I will lie therein as I lie here, and give that of myself that no one and nothing else seems able to give-be it some kind of 'key' or whatever. If you and the triad of my dreamings can be there with me, at that moment, then we will see if the combining of our thoughts and minds somehow works to stop what is coming to destroy all."

As sound and color raged throughout its structure, the Krang within was silent. Then: IT SEEMS TO ME NOT THE WAY. IT SEEMS TO ME NOT ENOUGH STRENGTH. IT SEEMS TO ME NOT ENOUGH OF ENOUGH. BUT ... YOU ARE THE CLa.s.s-A MIND. I WILL COMPLY. MEANWHILE ... BE STILL, AND AT PEACE, AND ... WAIT.

Outside the dome Clarity was doing her best to restrain herself. So intense was the all-enveloping color and so luminous the lightning that she could no longer see Flinx where he lay on the interior platform. Primordial alien harmony continued to hammer at her ears and a.s.sault her sanity. In the shadow of Tse-Mallory's and Truzenzuzex's continuing composure, she forced herself to stay calm.

But as the light storm shattered her senses she could not keep her fear from continuing to deepen.

"Are you sure he's all right?" she yelled at Tse-Mallory.

Eyes of deepest, clearest blue peered into her own. "We can't be sure of anything here, Clarity!" A long arm waved to take in their heaven-storming surroundings. "We can't know anything for certain until this stops!"

It was no comfort, no comfort at all. But she was too focused, too engaged, and frankly too enraptured by what was swirling around her to cry.

Flinx could feel himself being drawn outward. He did not marvel or wonder at the sensation, having experienced it numerous times before. Born on the strength of the Krang's projection, he soared through s.p.a.ce. Stars pa.s.sed by in the wink of a mental eye, sprawling nebulae appeared and vanished in an instant of thought. Seeking, searching, uniting-until at last a connection was made. Feeble at first, it strengthened quickly when a response was received. There came a kind of joy he could not share as artifact made contact with artifact. He was present at the exchange, he perceived, but even though his facilitator tried, little of what transpired could be imparted to him.

Two machine minds were exchanging communication. Two artificial intelligences that had previously been unaware of one another's existence. After five hundred thousand years, like was communicating with like. It was curt, it was efficient, it was enabled. Much simplified, it was two weapons talking to one another. Two weapons, at least one of which had the capacity to destroy worlds. The entire pa.s.sage of information, during which the equivalent of many complete libraries was exchanged, took less than one minute.

Key, he thought. Trigger Trigger. Such power as the wandering Tar-Aiym platform represented. Would it be enough? The Krang didn't seem to think so. But it had to be tried. There was nothing else.

It was over as soon as it had begun. He felt himself receding, falling back, his perception shrinking. Down past suns and worlds unknown, through vortices of energy and disks of dark matter; back, back toward a single dead world circling a long forgotten sun.

He opened his eyes. Actual purple momentarily replaced visual purple, and then both were gone in a double blink. An echo of symphonies unimagined echoed briefly in his ears, already fading to pianissimo. The voice that was replacing it and growing rapidly stronger was familiar.

"Flinx, Flinx!" Clarity was atop the dais and at his side as soon as he straightened and slipped out from beneath the inner dome. He would have reached for her except that he felt a weight falling from his head. Extending his arms, he caught Pip just as she tumbled. The minidrag was completely spent, completely limp, and if possible even more exhausted than her master.

With him holding the flying snake it was difficult for Clarity to kiss him, but she did her best. Tse-Mallory was next at his side, helping support him. Behind them Flinx saw the two thranx looking on and gesturing concern. Above and in the distance, colors were fading as they retreated like pale syrup down the mult.i.tude of cylinders that lined the towering interior walls of the Krang.

Tse-Mallory didn't waste time. "Anything? How did it go? Familiar, new, shocking, rea.s.suring-say something. Talk to me, Flinx."

Heedless of both the sociologist's physical size and intellectual stature, Clarity interposed herself between him and his subject. "Leave him alone-for a while, anyway. Can't you see that he's completely drained?" Without waiting for Tse-Mallory's response, she turned back to Flinx. "Are you all right? Can I get you something from the skimmer?"

He took a step and nearly fell. Between Clarity and Tse-Mallory, he did not. "Water. Water would be-good."

Whirling, she raced down the dais to where they had stacked the supplies they had brought from the skimmer. Following more slowly, Flinx and Tse-Mallory were joined by Sylzenzuzex and her Eighth.

"What was it like, Flinx?" With both left hands Syl gestured back at the now dormant platform. "What happened there, under all that noise and light and color?"

"Contact occurred," he told her weakly, "and it was tiring."

"I can see that. You were a brave boy, once," Truzenzuzex told him. "Now that bravery is backed by maturity."

A weary Flinx smiled down at his old mentor. "Don't count on it. How many minutes was I under?"

"Minutes?" The philosoph looked to his human companion. "Do I misinterpret the chrono?"

"You do not," Tse-Mallory a.s.sured him. He met Flinx's quizzical gaze. "You were lying in state for just under four hours, my young friend."