Chapter 41 - The Kraken Gate
The transit was disconcerting. As I walked towards the portal, it felt as though various parts of my body were being gently pulled apart, spiralling outwards from my stomach. The closer I got to the portal, the more the hairs on my body stood erect. As I reached the shimmering space between the rings my stomach jittered and I felt nauseous. The roaring wind made me unsteady on my feet, but I pushed on, focussing on the rocky, uninspiring landscape on the other side of the portal. I stepped through…
…and onto the broken surface of Ganessa’s second planet. I took a few more steps to make room for the others, my mind struggling to comprehend the distances involved. I scanned the area, looking for threats, but I saw nothing, and aside from the air rushing through the portal, it was quiet. If the Charg, or any undesirable creature, could sense the portal, and were drawn to it, they hadn’t had time to do so yet.
From this side, with no rings to frame it, the portal looked like a dark disc, one end touching the stony ground. One-by-one, the other members of the expedition appeared out of the darkness; a hand, a foot, followed by the owner.
Inigo came over, showing no signs of discomfort. He climbed up onto a large, flat-topped boulder and held his hand out. I grabbed it and was pulled up. Together we surveyed the broad valley of grey slate-like stone and sickly-looking, yellow vegetation. There was moss, low spreading succulent plants and small shrubs. The cloudless sky was a blue with a hint of purple and the single sun that hung overhead burned brightly, warming me like Draxil and Aripole on a summer’s day on Illesin.
‘The shadows are darker here,’ observed Inigo.
Realisation dawned, but I still didn’t understand. ‘Why?’
Inigo pointed up. ‘Only one star here. On Illesin, Draxil’s shadow is partially overlooked by Aripole and vice-versa, so they never get as dark.’
‘Of course!’
‘Oh, look!’ exclaimed Inigo. ‘Something moved over there.’ He pointed at some specks, flying high above the far end of the valley. I pulled out the telescope that Na-Su had modified for me and took a careful look. They looked like birds, wheeling in unseen thermals, but I had a feeling the similarity would be superficial.
‘This looks like the uplands of Kontepract,’ said Benjamin, who was standing beside the rock that we were using as a lookout. He looked alert for danger, which was a reassuring sign. When he decided that we were safe, he gave the signal to Overstrand and Yates, The two marines dropped their packs and went back through the portal to help the remainder of the marines with the stockade.
Polonius Evershed coughed. ‘This area may superficially look like the uplands of Kontepract,’ he said. ‘But notice the colour of the vegetation; the plant life on Ganessa doesn’t appear to depend on chlorophyll, at least not in the three areas visited so far. Whatever does the same job as chlorophyll on this planet is responsible for the yellow hue.’
‘Is this where the last expedition landed? It looks like what you described to us a few nights ago.’ Benjamin looked pointedly at my telescope. I passed it to him.
‘It’s not the same valley,’ replied Evershed, ‘but, it does look similar. It would be an outrageous coincidence, given the size of the planet. Maddison told me that it would be quite impossible to copy the calibration from the Emberly gate. Even if the information had survived, the measurements would have had to be unimaginably accurate.’ Evershed was building up a head of steam. ‘Small changes in the wiring, tolerances in the dimensions of the field generators, minor fluctuations in the power levels; all these would make it impossible for one gate to replicate the touchdown point of another. It’s hard enough for a gate to lock on to its previous target.’
‘Maddison told me that he would try to put us within ten leagues of the last mission,’ I remarked. Evershed looked doubtful.
Director Harman would have to wait for his report on the damage that the failsafe had done on this side of the portal. First we would have to get our bearings.
Benjamin handed my telescope back, so I went to check on the progress of moving the stockade through the portal. The marines worked in pairs. Clear of the portal, they deposited the timber onto a growing pile, waited for the next pair to emerge, and then crossed back for more. It was amusing to watch how everyone stepped gingerly over the threshold. It was impossible to avoid thinking of it as a gap that might open wide, like the one between the dock and a departing ship.
Once the last load was through and all the marines who weren’t joining us had returned to Illesin, the portal abruptly closed. As the opening disappeared, the wind that had been pouring through it abruptly died.
‘I’d feel happier if they kept it open,’ said Benjamin.
‘Apparently it takes too much power to keep it open,’ I replied.
‘The device is still running,’ explained Evershed, who was nearby and had heard my reply. ‘Just maintaining a link to this exact location is consuming forty-five percent of the capacity of the engines.’
We reconnoitred the immediate vicinity, to make sure nothing was hiding behind rocks or any of the rubbery, jaundiced plants. A tiny stream, hardly more than a rivulet, trickled along the valley floor fifty paces east of where we stood. Dr. Onacar was itching to go over and investigate, but she held herself back to help as we began the construction of our defensive ring around the site. Whitewash was used to mark a line where the portal had been, so that we wouldn’t block it or stand in the wrong place when it was due to open again. Next, everyone set to work assembling the stockade and digging holes so that the stakes could be held firmly in position.
Polonius Evershed made excuses about his bad back, volunteering instead to watch for inbound Charg. He managed to make a virtue of his indolence by explaining that he was the only person in the party who knew exactly what to watch for. James muttered a seaman’s curse and hacked at the stony soil with a brass pickaxe.
Inigo worked with the marines and was laughing with Captain Banks while they filled spoil back into the post hole, angling the point of the picket outwards. Privates Yates and Overstrand followed behind them, hammering dowels into the woodwork, fixing cross-braces to the stakes and joists. Mahkran, James, Millicent Onacar and I did the same job, working around the circle in the opposite direction. When we were done, nothing larger than a weasel would make its way through without risking serious injury. Millicent hammered dowels with a surgical precision that I admired.
It was warm, much warmer than where we’d come from, and many of us wore too many layers, better equipped for our home world’s weather. I wondered whether the temperature was seasonal, or whether the whole planet was just naturally hotter than our own. Soon, everyone was down to shirtsleeves. We worked hard, only stopping for an occasional drink of water. Even so, it was about two and a half bells later when, dripping with sweat, we completed the circle. Our stockade made me think of an eviscerated spinedog. The double row of sharpened stakes pointed outwards menacingly, leaving only a narrow passage for access. This would eventually be plugged with a sledge of stakes that Benjamin and Private Overstrand had begun work on.
‘This is going to keep the Charg out, is it?’ Banks asked Evershed. The naturalist gave him a condescending look.
‘It may do.’
‘That’s reassuring!’
‘Well, don’t look at me,’ Evershed complained. ’It wasn’t my idea.’
Banks looked at me.
‘Well, don’t look at me either. I took advice from the only expert we’ve got.’
The naturalist blew a raspberry which was so out of character that we all laughed, all except Banks.
‘It would be better if we could shift the touchdown to somewhere where there are trees.’ he said. ‘That way it would be easier to enlarge the stockade.’
‘It’s not worth considering until this thing has proved effective.’ I put in, then checked my timepiece and called to the others. ‘Alright! We’ve got less than four bells until the gate reopens.’ I pointed at the skyline on either side of the valley. ‘We have to do a sweep of this valley and see what’s on the other side of these ridges.’
‘Two parties?’ asked Benjamin. ‘Each take one ridge.’
‘What I was going to suggest, Lieutenant Scott,’ I said, ‘but we need to leave a couple of people to guard this site.’
‘Banks, pick a man,’ instructed Benjamin. ‘The security of the gate is your responsibility.’
‘Yes, sir. Private Overstrand can stay with me. We’ll see what improvements we can make to the defences.’
‘Very well, Lieutenant, but keep your eyes peeled for danger.’
I turned to Benjamin. ‘Lieutenant Scott, how about I take Private Yates and Rah Mahkran Malek with me to check out the ridge up here on the left. You take Mr. Dunn and Mr. Forbes and walk that one opposite and we’ll meet in the middle.’
‘Aye, aye, Miss Derringer.’
‘What about me?’ Polonius Evershed sounded peevish.
‘Ms. Onacar,’ I said, ignoring the naturalist. ‘Where do you need to go to do your work?’ She looked at the stream she’d seen earlier.
‘If you can wait a few turns, I’d like to collect some samples there, and then go with you to look over that ridge.’ She pointed at the skyline to our left.
‘Fine. We’ll set off once you have your samples. Once we reach the head of the valley, we’ll pick our way back here along the bottom. There may be more opportunities for samples as we go. Dr. Evershed, why don’t you join Lieutenant Scott’s patrol and use your famous tracking skills to spot our quarry?’
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