Aynsefian

Just like that, our conversation is over. Zarasena is up on her feet and asking Nikse if she is ready to fly further into the cave.

This hurts.

I mean, she was my ship. I want to say something to Zarasena, but I can’t find the words. I still don’t trust her completely. I’m still working through all that I have found out in the last hour or so. The harsh reality of my past week is still very raw, and I can’t just give up the pain and hardship that easily. Okay, so she justified it by saying she was playing a game back there a week ago near the YP48197 stargate when she spoke to us with such unfeeling cruelty. Is she playing another game now?

I hate that Nikse is not mine any more. Sure, she’s nice to me, and she remembers all of our times together, but she’s not mine. I know I said I’d give her up and find a human partner somehow, but it still hurts.

Then again, at least she’s alive. As am I.

I should be thankful. Actually, no, I shouldn’t be. I can be angry at what’s happened. However my anger could be directed at the Melcheisa Galactic Council instead. Maybe it makes things easier to direct my anger to some nebulous organisation. Besides, Zarasena might be capable of lying, but I tend to believe her when her two crew members say the same sorts of things. It all seems feasible.

I’ll be true to myself, and to the vows I made when I was exhausted, thirsty and hungry, walking up the slope to the cave entrance two days ago. I’ll stick with the decision I made that I would save the Purlinians’ lives and go home to Inconflencia somehow. That still seems possible.

If we can escape the MGC, that is. We have a week, Anathusa said.

Thoughts of Aynsefian begin to intrude. This is the plan we have now. The plan I have to go along with, because trusting these people I’ve only really just met is my only option. They are making a concession on our behalf, perhaps to make up for the pain they caused us and are sparing two days out of their escape week to investigate the cave with us. I can’t see how anything but good can come of exploring this cave further. The Purlinians and I were going to have to walk up until this morning, and that could have taken days or even weeks. Now it will be easier.

I follow everyone up to the bridge, carrying Salvation with me. Anathusa gives me a curious look as she sees me carrying him. I shrug off the thought that I might be considered to be a boy with his cute toy. Thoughts like that are happening all too often today. I brush the notion aside and focus on what is happening up here. I put Salvation down and look around.

The bridge is different from what I’m used to. Like everything else, it’s bigger and more luxurious. There are two rows of plush seats in front of the main window, allowing us a clear view for about two-hundred and eighty degrees. It’s a much more accessible viewing platform than the old Nikse, and it is a major point of difference. I’m quite excited by it. The differences in this ship compared to the old one actually help. I can let Nikse go a little more easily when she doesn’t look like she used to.

She is now lifting off and it feels different too. It’s smoother and there appears to be more power than she used to have.

As we rise above the lake I’m struck once again by the immense size of this cave. We are by now about two hundred metres above the water, and the cave roof hasn’t gotten any closer, visually. It still looks vague from here and I can’t tell if it’s smooth or rocky. I look back down at the lake. It is at least a kilometre wide, maybe more, and three times as long. There is a good- sized tract of land on the far shore too, opposite the cabin, and on that land there is a quite sizable forest.

From this angle, whichever way I look, I’m impressed by it all. That something of this size could be inside of a planet still amazes me. I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like further in, as all this cave has done is get bigger and bigger the more we venture into it.

Zarasena directs Nikse to head further into the cave, asking her if she can detect the dimensions of the cave. The answer is negative. I feel a pang of joy at hearing her speak again. Then her words strike home.

“Three hundred and five kilometres from our present location, the cave roof reaches its peak height of sixty-one kilometres.”

Sixty-one kilometres.

I can scarcely believe it. That is, I think, about three times the height of our stratosphere back on Inconflencia.

If the cave is that extensive, then a mini sun does seem a possibility. My mind can’t conceive of such a place. I simply have to see it for myself.

Then something else Nikse said strikes home. Three hundred and five kilometres from here. The implication is that not only does the cave extend this far, it probably goes beyond that. I have to ask her something.

“Nikse?”

“Yes, Axin?”

“Beyond that three hundred and five kilometres, is there more cave?”

“Yes, there is. It keeps going for as far as I can detect, which is five hundred kilometres. After that I don’t know.”

This place is astonishing. I want to know more. I want to get a sense of how big the cave is, relative to the rest of the planet.

“Do you have data – sorry, Zarasena, I hope you don’t mind?”

Zarasena and her crew are standing apart from me, to my left, all staring silently out into the distance, looking outwards into the cave. She doesn’t even look at me as she answers.

“No, please do, Axin.” Her voice is calm. I feel more and more like I can trust her, with each passing moment. If she was going to do anything sinister, I feel like it would have happened by now. I’m safe. It’s a comforting feeling. My mind switches back to what I was going to ask Nikse.

“Do you have data on the size of the planet, Nikse?” I ask.

I want to know, but I’m glad to hear her voice too, so any questions I ask have a double benefit. “Yes I do, Axin. It’s four-thousand, four hundred and sixty-three kilometres in diameter. It’s about ten percent larger than Inconflencia.”

“Thank you, Nikse,” I reply, somewhat dreamily. So that means the five hundred or more kilometres of cave is barely a tenth of the planet’s diameter. Significant, yes, but it could stretch all the way around. This is the perception I have from the visions that Arlyss and Cindlyss sent me a few days ago.

I look to my right to see what they are making of it all. They have been watching me as I’ve been speaking. Their eyes are shining and they are as delighted and energised as I’ve ever seen them.

This is real. Aynsefian is real. I know it now.

Nikse glides further into the cave. She picks up some speed, so as to cover the distance more readily, but not too much speed that we can’t see anything. My guess is that we’re cruising at about sixty kilometres an hour. At this rate we will reach the peak height of the cave in about five hours, if we don’t stop before then.

At the far end of the lake, Salvation’s Creek becomes a river. I won’t use his name any more for this change. It doesn’t feel right. He can have the naming of the creek from its origin to the lake. The river is now several metres wide now and flowing over some rocks, creating attractive rapids as it does so. Although the backlighting is still relatively dim to what I’d expect in full sunlight, it’s clear enough in this part of the cave.

The ground begins to drop away, and it seems like the roof is expanding as well. As we cover the kilometres, there’s not a lot of change, other than the gradually increasing light and the continually expanding cave boundaries. As the light slowly improves, the trees begin to change. Now there are not so many ferns, but quite a few dark coloured pine-like trees and some lighter green ground cover. The river continues to expand in width and is probably thirty or so metres across.

Still, there are no further buildings of any sort. The cabin that the Purlinians and I discovered yesterday is the only one so far.

Nikse slows after about five minutes, such that she’s barely moving. There appears to be a major change ahead. The light is much brighter now. I can hear a few intakes of breath around the bridge. My heart almost stops for a moment.

The mini sun is partially visible.

It’s extraordinary. It looks much like Firion did when I looked up at it out on the planetary surface in that horrible wind a few days ago. The mini sun is very distant from us in our current location and although I can look directly at it without hurting my eyes, it’s hard to make out if it’s real or not.

Intuitively, it doesn’t make sense that it was constructed, but that’s the feeling I get. When societies exist on planets for literally millions of years, they become capable of the most extreme feats of technology. This, to me, feels like one such feat.

I don’t know how I know this. I just do. With my peripheral vision I catch Cindlyss watching me. They appear to have silently sent me the notion that this mini sun is not natural. Therefore I believe it. From this distance I can only see a small section of it, as the rest is obscured by the roof of the cave. It looks as if it’s several kilometres across.

It’s the most beautiful soft-white colour and it shimmers delightfully. I can’t take my eyes off of it. Feelings of immense peace wash over me. My body feels light, as if I only weigh a few kilograms. I don’t want to look anywhere else for fear that I’ll lose this feeling of bliss.

“Mr. Fernea…” says Jinekali slowly. “…what the heck have you found?”