One by one, his tortured muscles stopped trembling, paralyzed by the claws inside his skull. Their purpose seemed clear now: they were trying to take control of his body to prevent him from pulling the interface off. With every second, they inched closer and closer to their goal.
On the other tail, Gill was equally determined to escape. He began fighting the numbness, but he quickly found that he couldn’t raise his arms high enough to remove the interface. Had he lost already?
His feet still listened to him—the paralysis was traveling much slower downward, being focused on his head and the upper part of his body. Without wasting more time, he stumbled toward the ravine that bordered the meadow. For a moment, he glimpsed the river of deadly mutant siclides, and then he jumped into it.
A whirling vortex of sensations swallowed him in an instant. It was so powerful that it sucked away even the last crumble of air still inside his chest. Was… Urdun telling the truth? The horrible suspicion speared his kyi. But in the next instant, the twister threw him into his nest in the real Ropolis. The bixan hadn’t finished its effect—he was still feeling dizzy and confused. But the evil presence was gone, and he could finally fill his chest with plenty of stinky air.
He touched the bracelet stealthily through the tunic’s fabric and found, relieved, that it was lying dutifully on his arm. The three specks of fluff scattered on the edge of the nest he had left before he fell asleep were still there, a sign that no disturbance had happened in the dome during his kyi’s absence from the “shell.”
Although he had expected to be attacked, the assault took him completely by surprise. Yet, he had no reason to blame himself. After all, who could have expected that such a technology existed in Ropolis? The kyi’s holiness was protected by impenetrable walls raised over time by Bailas’ edicts. The Shindam’s scholars had barely made a few feeble steps toward deciphering its mysteries. The only real application was the neural inductor, but its brutish manipulation of the vestibular apparatus was no match for the invasion of his ganglions by the ice creature. The virtual world was far from innocent, and the mining city was serving only as a decoy.
Gill started to understand… He had only lifted the veil just a little bit, he had only stayed there for several minutes, and yet it became obvious that the real world was there, on the other side of the interface. How naïve he was to imagine he had landed in the middle of a puny revolt against the temples… What was happening here was much, much worse! Baila had his reasons to attack with blind rage. The Ropolis population—totally out of control, crazy, and drugged to the brim, became increasingly alien from everything Antyra stood for; with every passing day, it was growing like a mutant excrescence, morphing under their very eyes into another species.
Loneliness began to hurt him physically. He would have given anything to be able to talk with a friendly creature he didn’t have to suspect of betrayal or hidden interests. Unfortunately, he had no choice—he was forced to carry the secret alone in a hostile world till he died. Until then, he would trust nobody: all, even the closest Antyrans, would be corrupted by Baila’s or Ugo’s treacherous aromas.
He absently gazed at Urdun’s “shell” laying in the other nest, the feeding tubes swarming in his inert body. Is he able to disconnect to the real world after such a long time? he wondered with purely scientific interest. That would be a great topic for comparative anatomy, if he ever reached his lab in the Archivists Tower and, obviously, if he could scan Urdun’s “shell.” Hmm, the Archivists Tower… The bitter cloud of remembrance brought back in his memory the tarjis’ blind fury. By this time, the tower was most likely reduced to a pile of smoldering rubble, the tomb of so many irreplaceable artifacts from their world’s ancient history…
He deformed the space in front of the skylight, ready to push his body outside and trigger the chaos of a general pursuit—this time through the dark catacombs of the Blue Crevice. Yet, something held him back. The swarming tubes in his companion’s body gave him an idea… But he was hesitant to go into the trance again, afraid that he might be attacked by the invisible creature. What worried him most was that the assault might unfold much more quickly this time. Probably Ugo, the entity, whatever it was, learned from the previous encounter and would paralyze his feet along with his hands. On the other tail, he knew the nature of the weapon; at the first sign of coldness, he would pull off the interface…
Could he afford to risk his precious tail again? The more he thought about it, the more tempting was the idea. A hasty return to the virtual world after such a dreadful encounter would be the last thing Ugo would expect from him. After all, a jure’s effectiveness could be diminished to the same extent by complacency as by not knowing his opponent.
This time, he woke up before the stinky licants had a chance to reach him. His body quickly adapted to the drug. Urdun lay against a tree, overwhelmed by thoughts, but he raised his eyes as soon as he noticed Gill’s appearance.
“You’re back already?” Urdun exclaimed, bewildered, unable to believe his nostrils that he could smell him again. “I thought—”
“How do I get out of here?” Gill yelled brutally, wiping the fake joy off his mug.
‘I told you, there’s no way…”
“You said it’s possible! Right now, I want the details!” Gill made a few menacing steps toward him.
“I don’t know!” Urdun cried defensively. He tried to sound convincing, but Gill could smell the stink of his lies from the distance.
“You lie! When I wanted to disconnect, you promised we’d go to the architects!”
“I said it just so you wouldn’t harm yourself. You felt it on your tail; you can’t cross the siclides…”
“Stop lying, Urdun! I know you’re Ugo’s Antyran. It’s over! I’m going to the dome to disconnect you! Maybe the real world will help you become more reasonable!”
Gill made a move to pull off the interface.
“Wait!” Urdun screamed, terrified, “You’re going to kill me!”
He was expecting the answer—after all, the skinny “shell” in the nest didn’t seem able to take care of itself. But he also knew he was able to make good on his threats without any of his head spikes wrinkling the slightest. In the last few days, he had killed quite a lot of Antyrans with no remorse, so he decided to press on.
“Why should I believe you, old fool? You lied so many times, I don’t care what you say anymore!”
“I haven’t woken up in ages,” Urdun cried. “If you disconnect me, it is over! My kyi has lost its functions, and only the machines keep me alive. I’ll die in minutes!”
“All right, let’s pretend for a moment you’re telling the truth. I’m going to ask you nicely one more time: How do I get out of here?” he asked in a hostile voice, which promised nothing good.
His face congested by fear, Urdun started to look around, most likely awaiting the return of the ice creature.
“Well? I can’t hear you…”
“Shhh.” Urdun made a sign for Gill to shut up. “The licants are his spies. When you want to say something, make sure there’s no one around!”
“I don’t see any—”
“Come here.”
Urdun pulled the bushes near him, pointing at the waterhole where Gill had earlier mirrored his face.
“I’m going to get disconnected by you or by Ugo, so why worry?” Urdun exclaimed angrily. “This way we can reach the nearby island.”
Seeing Gill’s distrustful eyes, he added, “The smart architects always leave hidden gates. I was one of them—obviously I know the shortcuts around here,” he said, smiling bitterly. “We have many hidden doors scattered all around the islands.”
“And how do you propose to travel through the water?” Gill asked incredulously.