In the deathly silence of the weapons store, the sudden screeching and grating sound is a mind-numbing shock. I clap my hands to my ears, and turn around, trying to identify the source of the noise - but it seems impossible; the noise is everywhere, all about me, echoing off the impossible limits of this space.
Dimly, I become aware of Thyvesh's voice. I concentrate, make out the words he is shouting: "- the door! The door is in motion -"
I have lost my bearings, in among all the glowing columns of light with the deadly devices inside them. Thyvesh, though, seems to know where he is going. I follow him as he runs between the columns -
The sudden silence is almost as nerve-shattering as the noise itself. Thyvesh does not slow down, though. He runs with almost frantic urgency, picking his way unerringly between the columns of light. The artifact - the door - comes into view, now. It is spinning, churning. It rotates on some unguessable axis, aspects of it revolving into view from unknown dimensions.... The sight is disturbing.
"Not yet," Thyvesh gasps. He is out of breath. "Not this time. Not yet."
"Thyvesh." I am panting, myself. "Thyvesh, what happened?"
"He is -" Thyvesh swallows loudly, and a shudder runs through his body. "My counterpart, he is using the Na'kuhl ship's temporal technology to probe the door. To try and interface with it, activate it, remotely."
"As you can?"
He laughs, long and wildly. "Oh, yes. As I can. Very much as I can."
I study the thing. Its movement seems to be slowing. "He did not succeed."
"No. Not this time. But we did not succeed, either. When we tried. Or did not."
His mind must be wandering into alternative timelines again. "When did we try? What did we try?"
"The console. On the station. The console - it is for managing the door."
So much, I had already gathered. "When we - were not here - before," I murmur.
"Yes." Thyvesh clutches at his head. "So many different timelines."
Too many to be helpful to us now. "What can we do?"
"I must - try harder. To keep control. I am here, now, and I can hold the door from this side." But there is doubt in his voice. Whatever his counterpart is trying, it is taking a toll on Thyvesh.
I put my hand on his shoulder, feel his trembling. "Thyvesh. Is there anything I can do to help?"
His tremors increase. With a sudden shock, I realize he is laughing. "Yes," he says. "No. You will know what to do, when the moment comes. You always did."
He turns to face me. His eyes are wild. "You will know. And I trust you. I trust you to betray me."
The shifting metal shapes of the impossible door suddenly speed up, and a faint screaming sound makes itself audible as surfaces grind together. The shapes spin and twist and slide into new configurations -
- and suddenly the door is a door, a rectangular opening, twice the height of a man, filled with a swirling blackness -
Thyvesh moves, quickly, too quickly. I have no time even to think of offering resistance, before he seizes me by the shoulder and thrusts me through the door.
---
I spin into the darkness, and it enfolds me, and for a time I know nothing. I do not even know how long a time - if such a concept can even be said to have meaning....
Then there is light, dazzling my eyes, and weight, and noises, and a foul smell of burning.
I drop to a crouch, rubbing my eyes, trying to get my bearings. Where has Thyvesh thrown me, where and when? - There is smoke in the air, metal deck plates under my feet. The place seems vaguely familiar....
Metal floor - metal walls - metal shapes of consoles. The control room of the Denobulan station - the very place we fled from, when the Na'kuhl ship arrived. The smoke in the air - I gather my wits. There is a release of energy, Thyvesh said, when the door is opened. This room must have been filled with a burst of heat and lightning, just as I arrived.
It has worked in my favour, I think. There is a smouldering shape on the floor nearby, humanoid, dressed in what was once heavy red body armour. A Na'kuhl, blasted down by the force from the door. The only one here, though? I could never be that fortunate.
The equipment - the equipment is rugged, it is superficially scorched, but undamaged. Or perhaps Thyvesh has sufficient fine control to direct most of the energy at the Na'kuhl? - In any case, the most important thing, the console, is still functional. The Na'kuhl have not tampered with it. Not yet, at least.
Somewhere far off, there are noises. Distant, but horribly familiar. The shrill sounds of energy weapons.
Fighting. There is fighting, somewhere on the station. I stand up, turn to the station's control console. I must decipher Thyvesh's purpose, find out why he has sent me here, determine the meaning of his cryptic comments.
First, though, I must find out who is fighting whom, and which side - if any - I am on. The familiar sense of practicality grips me as I engage the internal sensors. First, of all things, I must survive.
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