Dream Planet. Book 1. Star Maze

Chapter 8. The Olmeco Tunnel

Atla picked up the headband and handed it to him.

"Put it on your head in the same way that we have."

The man from the sphere put on the device very carefully, looking out for new sensations. As soon as the headband touched his forehead, he mentally connected to both Atla and Marcius. They couldn't hear his thoughts, but very distinctly felt his presence.  

"With your permission, I'll be the captain," Atla commanded.

Neither Tulonian nor Pacifian liked this very much, but seeing as the ship was Kramean and she was most familiar with its controls, they agreed.

"The main task for us now is to set the route, and after that, everything will be much easier," she decided.

The Pacifian gradually joined their labor. He started to feel the crystal with all its systems and feel the surrounding space. It was a peculiar feeling, as if his own body had expanded to the size of a spaceship. Many new diagrams and data points flooded his brain all at once, and he grew capable of doing things he'd never learned to do, which was impressive. The headband intensified his brain's function and toned up his entire body. The three of them could understand each other without words.

Atla put in the route she'd already calculated on the big ship. It was the shortest and most effective.  

"How much water do we have left?" she asked, seeing that several of the containers have been punctured.

"Seven hundred liters," Marcius replied.

"How long will it last?"

"For three people, two thirds of the way in one direction," replied the Pacifian, “That’s assuming we won't drink more than five hundred milliliters per day."

"What about the provisions?" she continued her examination.

"We have enough for the whole journey, including the return, with extra left over," Marcius replied, checking the storage.

"Let's get the water storage up to 100% and be on our way," the priestess decided.

"Bring up a diagram of nearby meteors and asteroids," she told Marcius, suggesting to mine the water from them.

The Tulonian examined their surroundings.

"The closest is three light days away," he replied.

"Then that's where we'll go," Atla commanded.

The Pacifian calculated the route and they were on their way.

Atla picked an asteroid in a remote, faraway location, on the edges of the Seven Worlds. They attached themselves to it and both Marcius and the Pacifian got ready to get out. Atla remained inside as backup.  

"We need to secure each other with a rope," Marcius suggested.

"We already have enough safeguards," the Pacifian disagreed.

Marcius insistently handed him a third rope.

"I'm used to working alone," said the Pacifian stubbornly.

"I'm not," replied Marcius, "I've always worked together with my friend," he added, "Please!"

The Pacifian didn't like the idea of being tied with a rope to the Tulonian, but not wanting to waste time arguing, he took the other end of the rope and fastened it to his belt. They left the ship and were immediately confronted with weightlessness.   

On one side was the sparkly white surface of the asteroid, and on the other - the golden smoothness of the crystal. Moving their hands along the surface of the ship, grabbing onto the shallow grooves intended specifically for this purpose, they lowered themselves down to the drills holding the crystal to the asteroid. Descending along them to the surface of the rock, Marcius immediately fastened a cable to the asteroid, plunging a spike into its body. The Pacifian descended along the other drill, and having reached the bottom, did the same. Activating the claw, Atla handed them the tools for collecting ice - one for Marcius and one for the Pacifian.  

These devices were reminiscent of metallic boxes, but without bottoms. A handle with a button was fastened to the top lid, along with another lever. The surface heated up to a smoldering red at the push of the button. As soon as the box came into contact with ice, it plunged into it, smoothly cutting it into cubes. With a push of the lever, a scorching string slid along the bottom edges of the box, cutting off the ice cube like a mushroom. The only difficulty was lifting it up out of the main block of ice.    

Tensing all the muscles on his back, arms and legs, Marcius pulled out the cubes one by one, handing them to the claw, which loaded it onto the ship. Even though the Pacifian was much smaller than Marcius, he was just as fast as him, and did his work just as thoroughly.

Marcius was drenched in sweat. The lining of his spacesuit wasn't able to absorb and filter it fast enough. On top of that, the suit was too small for him. Even the largest Kramean size barely fit him, pinching at the shoulders. They worked for twelve hours. Periodically, Marcius would look at the Pacifian, his pace slackening as time went by and tiredness overcame him.

"I suggest we return to the ship, get some rest, get our strength back and then continue," he suggested.

The Pacifian heard Marcius' voice inside his helmet, and sharply objected:

"We only have 12% left to load out of the amount we've already done, and we have enough resources left. We have enough oxygen for five more hours."

Marcius didn't argue. He still had some energy left, being well-trained, but he didn't expect such perseverance from the Pacifian. They worked nonstop for one more hour. The Pacifian's plan to replenish the store in one burst of effort might have worked if a certain accident hadn't thrown them off.

The Pacifian drew out yet another ice cube, lifted it up above himself and handed it to the claw. It grasped it and carried it off to the ship, and the Pacifian started to drill his next cube. Marcius was just about to turn to the claw to pass off his latest catch when he froze in place, completely defeated by the sight in front of him. Either Atla, who was controlling the claw, squeezed the ice cube in its grasp too tightly and crushed it, or otherwise the cube itself was unusually porous in structure and cracked all by itself. One way or another, it fell to pieces. One of the shards hit the Pacifian's back, knocking off the cable at his waist that held him to the ship.    

He let out a sickening scream from the sudden pain. He lost his balance and fell towards the asteroid, hitting the icy surface with a thud and bouncing back into weightlessness. He was floating away into space quickly. The cable connecting him to the asteroid stretched to its limits and snapped. It did, however, manage to slow his movement, so that his last lifeline, the cable connecting him to Marcius, wasn't subjected to as much pressure. Marcius saw clearly that once that cable gets stretched to its full length, it would drag him away after the Pacifian into the cosmic void. His heart raced anxiously. He could hear his partner's heavy breathing through the intercom.  

"Hold on to me with the claw!" he yelled out to Atla, and then to the Pacifian, "Hang in there!"

The Pacifian didn't reply; Atla aimed the claw at Marcius. He was almost in its grasp when at the last moment he slipped away and flew after the Pacifian into the blackness of space.   

The cable connecting Marcius to the asteroid reached its limit first and wasn't able to handle the pull of two bodies at once. The end that was impaled into the ice jumped out and all the pressure got transfused into the last cable connecting Marcius to the ship. This cable was fastened very tightly, but Marcius was worried that the rope itself wouldn't hold up. Thankfully, the speed at which their bodies were travelling was greatly hindered by the breakage of the other two cables.  

The last cable stretched to its full length, but was able to withstand the pressure. Marcius felt a sudden deceleration and an overwhelming pain in his waist. He was sharply pulled back towards the asteroid, seeing the Pacifian flying towards him. Atla tried to grab them with the claw, but their trajectory of movement did not fall within its reach. Marcius fell into the ship with his back, but inertia pushed him back into space. Having flown off no more than two meters he found himself once again pressed to the ship, this time by the body of the Pacifian. They were just about to be flung back into space, but at the last moment Marcius managed to grab onto a groove in the spaceship and hold them back close to the crystal.    

The Pacifian wasn't moving. Marcius' heart pounded forcefully in his chest. He had time only to check that his partner's spacesuit hasn't been punctured by the ice shard, and thankfully, it was indeed still in one piece. The Pacifian was unconscious, likely due to the pain, but Marcius could hear him breathing. He tied him to his back with the cable that connected them and started to move along the grooves in the ship's surface towards the entrance.  

Atla met them by the gateway and helped get the Pacifian inside.

"Careful!" she begged.

Once inside, they removed his spacesuit and began to examine his wound. The skin was unbroken, but several ribs were broken, and a dark bruise stretched across his whole back.

"He'll live," said Marcius with relief.

The Pacifian started to cough, coming to senses. He opened his eyes and looked at Atla with distaste.

"It's my fault, I almost killed you!" she said, her voice breaking.

"Later," said Marcius, "Let's move him to the infirmary."

In case of sickness or wounds the Krameans used a specialized container of liquid which they called a sarcophagus. It was carved out of medicinal crystals and filled with water, which was energetically charged and facilitated quick recovery. They loaded the Pacifian inside, leaving only the head on the surface. The pain dispersed immediately. His face expressed relief, and he started to drift off to sleep.

"I'll finish collecting the ice by myself - there's only a little bit left," said Marcius.

"I'll come with you," said the Pacifian, half asleep, and passed out.

Marcius smiled at his stubbornness and spent several hours sitting beside him in complete silence, resting and watching him.

The Pacifian finally came to. He turned over with a barely audible moan.

"How are you?" asked the Tulonian with concern.

"Fine," the other replied through gritted teeth.

He really didn't like this situation, especially the sympathetic looks cast in his direction. Marcius quickly understood and did not linger beside him for much longer.

"I won't bother you any longer. If you need anything, I'm close by," he said and turned to leave.

"Yonk, my name is Yonk!" the Pacifian called after him.

Marcius stopped. The Pacifian revealed his name. This was a victory of sorts. He turned and said, "I'm glad that you're alive, Yonk!"

The Pacifian nodded.

Marcius went up to where Atla was. He put on his spacesuit again and went out into open space. The stressful incident had sucked all the life out of him. He was completely drained. He could have never imagined that he'd ever be so worried about the life of a Pacifian whose name he didn't even know.     

Working on his own, Marcius was especially careful, never rushing and passing off the ice in small pieces. Atla accepted the cubes slowly and attentively. The value of each of the three lives was too high.

Marcius finished the work by himself. The devices confirmed that the water store was filled up completely, and they left without hesitation. Even though the chunks collected were not only ice but also had carbon mixed into them, the water could be filtered during flight. The main thing was to clear it of radiation.

They continued on their way towards the first tunnel. It was located between the orbits of Yurei and Guinea and belonged to the Seven Worlds. It was considered Semi-Native - that's how the inhabitants of this system called tunnels whose one side was inside the Seven Worlds, and the other was beyond its borders. Only if both ends were within their home system was the tunnel called Native. Onyx determined the boundaries of the system - everything that fell under the influence of its gravity was considered a part of the Seven Worlds, and everything else was considered a separate world.

The flight to the entrance of the Olmeco tunnel was three months in duration. This was the most difficult part of the journey, and it wasn't easy for the travelers to get used to each other. Because of their strong mutual mistrust, it was difficult for them to work together. Arguments broke out frequently.    

It was thoroughly irritating to eat the same Kramean food three times a day. Even though it contained all the necessary nutrients and minerals, its taste got so tiresome that its nutritional value did nothing to salvage the situation. They took turns sleeping - at least two people had to be awake at all times, although even the sleeping pilot remained connected to the collective consciousness of the spaceship and continued to carry out the necessary duties unconsciously. Each had their own cabin, which gave them some privacy, but they spent the majority of their time in the main pavilion. It was a spacious room with a high ceiling strung with thin crystals. Oxygen entered through the tips of the crystals, and none of them were starving, but even this spacious hall wasn't big enough for the three of them.      

As they approached the first portal, Marcius was asleep. It was his turn to rest, but he woke up because of a nosebleed. He jumped out of bed and looked down. Several red drops fell to the floor. Marcius watched in bewilderment as the blood collected on the floor into a small globule, flew up into the air and split in two. Then each half divided again and again until the microscopic drops mixed in with the surrounding air and disappeared from view. All of this happened in an instant. Gravity had been disrupted, which meant they were right at the tunnel's entrance.   

He ran out into the pavilion. Atla turned and looked at him.

"We're in the tunnel!" she said, her voice dull and quiet, as if coming from the other end of the universe. The sound of her voice didn't reach him right away. He felt a ringing in his ears.

"Hang in there, it'll pass soon enough," Marcius told himself, trying to grab onto the numbness in his eardrums.

The sensations felt going through a magic tunnel were too intense, and it was scariest of all for first-timers. You didn't know what to expect, and your experience inside the tunnel would forever change your worldview. Your consciousness expanded to the size of the universe, all boundaries broke down, and you started to feel bigger, more majestic, and most importantly, you stopped associating yourself with any particular point in space, be that a planet or a star. You started to look at each corner of the universe as your home.   

All your senses sharpened and became more sensitive. Feeling each receptor, each nerve ending and each single cell on your body, you began to be more intuitive and in touch with yourself. You absorbed your environment, feeling the sickening collision of each molecule, winced with each movement of a neutron inside yourself as well as outside.

You could look at your hand and see right through it, piercing the skin, muscles, blood and bones with your gaze, sinking into it. But most enthralling of all was a newfound ability to see profound beauty in the most unlikely places. Colours sharpened to an amazing degree of saturation, becoming surprisingly strong and dynamic. Your experience of the world turned into a fairy tale, your mood soared, and your fear melted away.  

The room was flooded with the bright light of a million stars. Sparkling silver started to drip down the walls. The screens lit up with blooming red roses. The surreal psychedelic atmosphere was mind-boggling. Marcius swayed a little and looked into the porthole. Faces flew out at him through the endless darkness, some familiar, others not. They materialized out of stardust that for some reason he began to see and feel. The starlight scorched his face. His gaze paused upon his own reflection. Marcius froze in horror, as the pupils seemed to have disappeared from his eyes. A crazed desire flooded his heart to return to the way things were. He began to feel pain in his chest.  

"Don't look at yourself!" Atla yelled, "Someone say something, I beg you!"    

Both Marcius and Yonk understood what she was getting at. Everyone in the Seven Worlds knew that you couldn't let your mind be idle while falling through a magic tunnel, or else you might forever become dependent on it and spend the rest of your life chasing after that feeling, aimlessly wandering through wormholes. A lot of Guineans suffered from this. Magic tunnels were the strongest d**g in the universe, and the only way to fight it was to become emotionally engaged with something, lessening the effect.  

"Tulonians, Pacifians, vile barbarians, dirty animals, I hate you all!" Atla screamed.

It was clear that she was trying to start a fight. Evidently, the emotion of anger was the best she could do right now. She wanted to distract them from the idleness, and her aggressive outburst did the trick.  

Marcius saw Yonk's face go red and his hands tighten into fists and he jumped up from his chair. Marcius himself wasn't any less affected by the outburst, but most importantly, it distracted him from his hallucinations.

"What did you say?" he asked, mirroring her aggressive disposition.

"You hold nothing sacred. You're empty and soulless and deserving of death, all of you!" she spat at him, and looked over at Yonk, her eyes full of mad hatred. Unlike Marcius, her eyes had pupils, and they were so big they barely left room for anything else.

Marcius' eye started to twitch and his blood boiled inside of him, but he didn't debase himself with yelling. He replied coldly and with disdain:

"Oh, yes, I completely forgot, the souls of Krameans turn to stars after death!" He paused, "You're stupid and naive! Can you even think of anything more ridiculous!"

This time, Atla got truly offended. She felt a tightness in her throat. Nothing wounded her more than an insult against her native religion. The conversation stopped being a mere imitation of an argument and escalated to the level of a real interplanetary conflict.

"It's our religion, it's millions of years old, have some respect, you barbarian!"

"Tulona is older than Krama, and I'm not sure which one of us is the barbarian!"

Yonk was quiet, but still emotionally invested in the argument. The waves of hatred coming from him could be felt strongly and distinctly.

"Who told you that?" Atla asked indignantly, "Our religion claims that..."

"Your religion means nothing!" Marcius interrupted her, "The only thing you're good at is spying, eavesdropping, gossip and drama!"

Yonk nodded silently, agreeing with the Tulonian, and cast a dirty look in Atla's direction.

Atla's eyes turned red. The trip through the tunnel had long ceased to be carefree and easygoing. She'd managed to salvage everyone's sanity at the price of her own feelings, but they couldn't stop talking yet. The tunnel was long and they were only at the beginning.

"What do you even know about us?" she asked after a lengthy pause, quietly and full of hurt.

"You want to say I'm unfamiliar with your religion?" Marcius asked crossly.

"I want to say you're judging what you do not know."

"And what about you? Do you yourself know anything about the religion of Tulona?"

"Does it even exist? You know, apart from ancestor worship and arrogance? Is there anything sacred?"

Marcius heaved a deep sigh. Up until that moment he held Atla in high regard, although he still hated her even then.

"Yes," he replied and turned away.

This was one of the rare occasions when Atla felt awkward, realizing she'd said too much.

"I'm sorry, maybe I crossed the line, but... Tulona is so cold, and you want to say that faith lives within you, and you know the name of the creator of the Seven Worlds?"

"What do you mean, the name?" said Marcius slowly.

"I mean that at one point, none of this existed, and now it does. We know that nothing can just appear all by itself, so who created us?" said Atla.

"I don't know who created you," Marcius replied, indignant at the idea of a single creator for all the worlds, "But I can say for sure that there is nothing in common between our civilizations. We're different! Each has its own history. In the time when a second star, Ram, still abided in the Seven Worlds, Tulona belonged to Ram. It was completely covered in water, and that's where the first Tulonians appeared. From the simplest forms, they evolved into giant underwater humans. When Ram was getting reborn, it expanded and caused Tulona's water to evaporate. The Tulonians were losing their natural habitat and adapted their bodies to the new environment. Foreseeing the loss of water, they decomposed it into oxygen and hydrogen.

They funneled the oxygen into underwater pits and let the hydrogen evaporate. New Tulonians began living outside the water and breathe oxygen. When Ram went out and gravity pulled Tulona to Onyx, what little water was left turned to ice, and cold swept over the surface of the planet. The only ones surviving were those whose bodies managed to adapt. All of Tulona's underground cities used to be underwater pits in the past. Right now we are oxygenating the planet's atmosphere, trying to correct that same cosmic cataclysm of long ago. Our gods are our ancestors, great minds of the past to whom we owe our survival! We have no concern for your gods! "

"How strange!" Atla exclaimed, genuinely surprised, "Because we see the whole system of the Seven Worlds through a single consciousness - the consciousness of the Kramean god. Onyx is his soul, and everything that happens to us, even now, happens because he draws it in his mind. He can create anything he wants. He can conjure up a city under a dome if he so pleases, and he can also destroy it, like he did with the Oeelians and the Guineans."

"So you Krameans think that you live in the mind of an illusory god," said Marcius with a wry smile.

"Exactly! Us Krameans, we are his creative masterpiece, his favourites, and you - the dark corners of his subconscious!"

"Why thank you!" Marcius exclaimed, still smiling, "And where does this god live?"

"Everywhere! He's a spirit!" Atla replied earnestly, "And we have been chosen by him to enlighten you!"

"That's to say, your god has psychological problems? Since, you know, he doesn't seem able to get a grip on his own mind?"

"If you were able to see into the minds of people, you'd be able to see how complicated everything is. Not once in my life have I met a person with a truly harmonious mind. Same with him - the Tulonians are at war with the Krameans, and the Pacifians with the Murians."

"But you're talking of a god, not a human?" Marcius confirmed, this time more seriously, "The structure of his consciousness is assumed to be perfect, is it not?"

At this point Yonk, who up until now had been observing the conversation from the side, lost his patience.

"That's it, I've had enough!" he yelled out, "You don't know anything, you don't understand! That's not how it is. First of all, there is no god," he snapped at Atla, "Second of all, there never were any underwater people," he barked at Marcius, going red in the face, "But I don't blame you for believing this nonsense because third of all, it's completely the fault of the Pacifians that you do!"

"What do you mean, the fault of the Pacifians?" Marcius asked, bewildered.

"Pacifians have always existed in the universe. You have been artificially bred from our genes and settled on the other planets, but the experiment didn't go as planned. You're all but a poor imitation, a bunch of mutants. The anomaly has affected the Krameans' brains, and the Tulonians' bones and pigmentation. Leaving you alive out of pity, for many years now we have been trying to forget about our mistake. Blocking you off with a wall, we have been struggling to retain our world's purity," Yonk finished his speech with a loud, nervous gulp triggered by spasms in his throat. He turned away.    

Marcius, dumbfounded by the Pacifian's story, stood still, not moving a muscle. This was something he did not expect. He had to admit, Yonk beat them all in terms of audacity and megalomania. This version of creation greatly wounded the young man's ego.  

"Who would even come up with something like that?" Marcius thought to himself, reeling, "According to him, I'm just a pitiful attempt to make a copy of these lowly creatures!"

Going over the dialogue in his head one more time, he started to laugh uncontrollably.

"You know what the most interesting part is?" he turned to Atla, struggling to speak through bursts of laughter.

"What?" she asked.  

"That fact that he's dead set in his beliefs, just like you and I. And no one can convince any of us of the contrary!" he summed up the conversation.

Silence ensued, and each member of the crew was left one on one with their own thoughts. The tunnel was coming to an end, and they found themselves in a different galaxy, a whole different world, but each of them could only think about what they'd heard just a moment earlier. Each started to doubt their own religion, the foundation of their culture, the beliefs their ancestors carried through millennia. No one fell under the narcotic influence of the magic tunnel, which was only a small comfort at this point. Their passage through the portal left behind a gray sediment of sadness. Although without a doubt, for the first time in a long time, everyone had said exactly what they felt.    

Marcius spent a lot of time thinking about the conversation, and his consciousness began to shift. Having heard the stories of Atla and Yonk, he tried to see himself through their eyes.

"Who would have guessed? Yonk looks at me and it seems like everything is fine and we've finally established a connection, but in reality he thinks I'm a crazy mutant that's kidnapped him due to the anomalous functioning of my brain. He probably isn't even angry with us, but rather condescending, humoring us in our crazy quest to find some faraway world. Maybe he feels guilty for the sins of his ancestors? Maybe he even feels sorry for us? And what about Atla? She's so full of life, and at the same time so full of mystery. It's hard to even imagine how she sees me, considering she views all Tulonians as manifestations of some deity's subconscious. Most likely, she holds us both in contempt. But I have to admit, she does hold the higher ground in this whole situation, if only because she knows what I'm thinking about, even right this second..."