“Sounds like we have a volunteer,” Terrell said to Nassir.
With an approving grin, Nassir replied, “It certainly does.” He added to Xiong, “I hear it can get pretty hot in one of those ships.”
“Yes, sir,” Xiong said. “The pressure’s pretty intense, too. I’ll need a heavy-duty environment suit, or else I won’t be able to move once I’m there.”
Terrell said, “Let’s head up to the top deck and see the master chief. I’m sure he can rig you something for the job.”
Nassir nodded his approval. As the two men left the bridge, the captain focused his attention on the main viewer, which was still packed with Theriault’s surprising findings about the planets of the Jinoteur system. The Shedai made an entire star system from scratch, and we think we’re smart enough to play with their toys? Doubt deepened the creases of his brow. I hope we know what we’re doing out here.
Xiong had been standing on the transporter pad for nearly twenty minutes while Ilucci, Threx, and Cahow constructed his heavy-duty EVA suit around him from the boots up. Most of the labor had been devoted to installing a set of amplifying servomotors that would enable Xiong to move freely in the crushing pressure of the Tholian ship’s interior, and they had integrated a tricorder into the suit itself, to record all critical data of his visit. Just as they began securing his helmet and visor, the captain’s voice filtered down from the ceiling speaker. “We’re entering orbit, Ming,” Nassir said. “Are you about ready?”
Ilucci gave Xiong a thumbs-up. Xiong answered, “Yes, sir. As soon as I get my helmet on, I’m good to go.”
“All right, then,” Nassir said. “Clark, Bridy Mac’s relaying safe transport coordinates to you now.”
“Understood, sir,” Terrell said, moving behind the transport console. To the engineers he said, “Okay, suit him up. It’s time.” His hands moved quickly over the transporter controls as he powered up the system. “Coordinates locked in.”
Cahow and Threx stood on either side of Xiong and lowered the bulky headpiece of the suit into place. While they verified its built-in audiovisual uplink, Ilucci paced around them, giving orders like an artisan overseeing apprentices. With the helmet on, their voices sounded deeply muffled. The only sounds Xiong could hear clearly were the harsh tides of his own breathing and the quickening beat of his heart.
A short, low crackle inside the helmet preceded the activation of its comm circuit. Through his broad faceplate he saw Terrell speaking to him, but he heard his thinly reproduced voice inside the helmet. “Ilucci says you’re all set.” He smiled with warm humor. “Still sure you want to do this?”
“I’ve been waiting my whole life to do this,” Xiong said. “Energize when ready, sir.”
Terrell said, “We’ll leave your channel open. If you get in any trouble, just holler, and I’ll beam you back.”
“Will do,” Xiong replied as the engineers cleared the transporter pad and turned to watch his departure.
“Good luck,” said Terrell.
As Terrell gently pushed the sliders that engaged the dematerialization sequence, Ilucci quipped loudly enough for Xiong to hear, “I’ll keep the bunk warm for ya.”
A blizzard of dreamlike whiteness filled Xiong’s vision, and when it cleared he stood in a deep golden haze.
The interior of the Tholian ship shimmered in the searing heat and intense pressure. Xiong tried taking a step forward and found the resistance disorienting. An attempt to lift his arm and control its movement side-to-side resulted in several seconds of clumsy flailing. Even simple locomotion promised to be profoundly awkward.
“Xiong to Sagittarius,” he said, hoping that the open channel was working. “Do you read me?”
Terrell’s reply sounded scratchy and distant. “Loud and clear,” he said. “Everything okay over there?”
“So far,” Xiong said. He regrouped and focused on standing still. “Acclimating is a bit harder than I expected. The habitat on Vanguard wasn’t this hot—or this dense.” Bending and turning slowly from the waist, he took in his surroundings. To either side of him a long, broad corridor curved away out of sight.
The passageway’s overhead was high above him, arched and ribbed, as if the interior of the ship had been organically grown; it looked almost mismatched with the vessel’s rigidly, trisymmetrically angular exterior. Every surface he could see—decks, bulkheads, portals—appeared to be composed of the same smooth volcanic glass. “Is the visual coming through okay?”
“It’s a little choppy,” Terrell replied, “but we get the idea. If you head to your left, that should take you toward their command center.”
“Copy that.” In careful, halting steps he worked his way toward the forward section of the vessel. Periodically he found crystalline formations protruding from the bulkheads. Their smooth, sheared-off surfaces danced with light from within. The structures bore an uncanny resemblance to the control panel that Xiong had seen the Shedai warrior use in the underground facility on Erilon several weeks earlier.
Everything about this looks familiar, he realized. From the techno-organic nature of the environment to its nearly uniform composition of metallicized obsidian, it reminded him of the massive artifacts on Ravanar and Erilon: black, insectile, and intrinsically frightening. Every biomechanoid-looking interface strengthened his conviction that whatever the Shedai turned out to be, their link to the Tholians was fundamental and ancient.
Moving through the superheated soup was getting easier. His motions took on a fluid, flowing quality. He didn’t walk through the ship so much as he floated through it, riding its thick currents of rising warmth from one crest to the next. A wide, shallow arch in the bulkhead on his right led into a vast open space in the heart of the ship. “Sagittarius, I’m taking a detour to check this out.”
“By all means,” came Terrell’s bemused reply.
Xiong stepped through the gap onto a broad walkway, careful to mind his step because the catwalk had no safety railing. The concave ceiling was close and gleaming with reflected crimson light from below. On the other side of the wide-open compartment, another walkway stretched along the starboard bulkhead. Both looked down upon a massive energy-generation complex. Its systems throbbed heartily. “Can’t make out what kind of stardrive they’re using,” Xiong said. “The power source is matter-antimatter, but that’s no warp drive.”
Ilucci’s voice chimed in on the comm inside his helmet. “Good eye,” said the master chief. “Can you see a safe way down to the main engineering deck? I’d love a closer look at that.”
“Feel free to put on a suit and come join me,” Xiong said.
A grim chortle mixed with the static. “No, thanks,” Ilucci said. “I know some like it hot, but I ain’t one of ’em.”
After taking a long look around the compartment, Xiong was stumped about how the Tholians accessed the lower level. “I can’t see any way down from here,” he reported. “I’m moving on toward the command deck.”
“Copy that,” Terrell said. “Take your time. Check out anything of interest along the way.”
Half swimming, half walking back through the main passage, Xiong replied, “That’s what I’m here for.” Arriving at a Y-shaped intersection where a central passage split to port and starboard, Xiong sidestepped around a third branch of the passage that descended on a steep slope into the belly of the ship. “I think I might have a way to reach the lower deck after all, Master Chief. I’ll check it out on the way back.”
“Thanks, Ming,” Ilucci said.
The main corridor ahead of him stretched away to a point obscured by heat shimmer. “Damn, this ship is big,” Xiong muttered as he bounced and bobbed through the gelatinous atmosphere. Sweat beaded heavily on his forehead, and he felt perspiration travel crooked paths down his spine. “Master Chief, I think the heat exchangers on this suit of yours need a little more work. I feel like I’m getting slow-roasted.”