Dream Planet. Book 1. Star Maze

Chapter 2. The Fateful Meeting

Chapter 2. The Fateful Meeting

Tulona, the next morning.

Marcius's capsule was ready for takeoff and stood at the start line. He was walking towards it along the spacious white field of the aerodrome, Karii by his side, waiting for the arrival of the instructor. This is how it was every time. They were always debriefed about the mission last minute, just before takeoff. A member of the secret service was already walking up to meet them. They all looked the same – stern, in silver uniform and completely expressionless. The agent briefly activated the dome around them. The pilots were transported out of the vast field of the aerodrome into a white spherical room fit for three. The dome cut them off from the already isolated world.

The instructor spoke quietly, calmly and clearly:

"You are flying to Girius. The space fair was the last place where old man Iza was seen. Remember – Iza is a criminal, a spy of the highest degree. According to our sources, he is armed. You will need four crates of diamond dust for negotiation, which are located under the control panel."

Diamond dust was a universal currency in the Seven Worlds. It could buy you any product. Usually it was compressed into small tablets or weights. The amount at hand was immeasurably high. Marcius and Karii exchanged a worried glance. It was dangerous to even transport it.  

"The old man doesn't know that we are collaborating with Iona and will think that you're merely looking for information about the magnetic attack. Most likely, he will contact you first and ask for compensation for his work, which we have provided you with, but only so that he doesn't doubt your ability to pay. Having received the necessary information, you must immobilize him and hand him over to the Ionians. The diamond dust must return to headquarters. If he resists, you can shoot to kill. The Ionians will accept him dead or alive."  

"In your bags you will find weapons and explosives. Marcius will be the one in charge. Try to complete the mission without uncalled for witnesses and casualties" said the instructor and pointed to two flat backpacks.  

"Here's a copy of him," added the instructor and handed them a small statuette.

Marcius took the figure and squeezed it between his fingers, transforming it into a life-size model of the old man.

"So that's what he looks like," he thought.

And indeed, in front of them stood an old man. The nickname wasn't just for show. He was hutched over, skinny, short, wrinkly, in a long hooded robe. His features were distinctly Ionian. Stealth and cunning came through even in the 3D model.  

Marcius and Karii put on their lenses, using them to record the image.

"Don't forget to get a testimony about who specifically attacked us yesterday!" repeated the instructor.

Marcius nodded, so did Karii. The instructor took down the dome and left them.

Gently touching off the ground, the capsule broke free of Tulona's gravity and flew out into open space.

According to the coordinates, Girius soared round the orbit of Yurei, the fifth planet from Onyx, just past the asteroid belt left by the explosion of Oeela. From Tulona's current location, it would take only two Tulonian days to get to Girius, which was a relief.

Marcius and Karii worked well together. During the flight they let each other take breaks, and at times engaged in lengthy conversations.

Karii was brushing up on his Ionian, muttering phrases to himself, repeating words over and over, trying to develop the forgotten pronunciation.

"Trying to make up for lost time?" Asked Marius with a smile.

"Damn it all to hell! Ionian was always the hardest one for me!" Karii exclaimed, exasperated.

"Yes, I remember," Marcius laughed.

"It's not that funny, you could at least help! From now on, speak only Ionian to me for the rest of the flight!" he ordered.

"Alright," Marcius agreed, switching over to the enemy tongue. He deemed any language other than his own to be an enemy tongue.

"Did you get your visions yesterday as well?" asked Karii in Ionian, formulating the question as best as he could.

"Yes," the other replied bluntly.

"Anything new?" he asked with genuine curiosity.

Karii loved listening to Marcius' stories, even in a language he could barely understand. He carefully recorded them into a magnetic notebook that he never let out of his sight.

"Again with the notebook – are you not tired of it?" asked Marcius with a note of frustration in his voice.

"It's like the two of you are out to get me! Gayla has already thrown it out twice, but I can't stop. I've had it ever since childhood," Karii justified himself.

"Exactly! No one uses those things anymore!" Marcius smiled.

"It's something bigger than me. I want to write about you, about me and about everything that happens to us, even if in Ionian!"

Marcius was silent for a long time. Describing his visions was like baring his soul. And to bare his soul, which had already been thoroughly trampled upon, was not easy for him to do. But he trusted Karii more than anyone else. Only in his eyes he saw a reciprocal interest and a spark that inspired hope. Having calculated their route ahead of time so as not to get distracted, he started his story, caught up in a wave of emotion.  

"I've already told you what's been happening in the realm of my visions lately. They're evolving again. Instead of abstractions and colorful splotches I'm starting to see outlines that are quite distinct. The images still appear quite suddenly. The brightest of all are a species of tall green beings. I hear them rustling, feel a variety of smells. There's lots of greenery all around. I'm walking barefoot along a carpet of green, and it's tickling my feet. Looking up, I see a vast open space of a radiant blue, with asymmetrical white splotches scattered all around. They're moving over me, changing shape in the most peculiar manner. It all feels clean and exotic. It gets easy to breathe. I hear people's voices, their laughter, a foreign dialect. Yesterday I noticed a boy there. He got lost among the green creatures. I saw him so clearly that I would've recognized him had I met him in real life, but he didn't notice me. Afterwards, I saw their night sky, full of depth and clarity. Their stars are completely different – different constellations, different shades.   

Marcius finished his story and looked away.

Karii carefully wrote everything down, turned off the notebook and hung it on his wrist. It was a cylinder about the same size as his pinky, filled with ferromagnetic liquid. It contained within itself their whole life story, starting from childhood. Karii always wore it as a bracelet. A single touch of a finger to the center was enough to make the bottom come apart and spill forth a shapeless gummy substance, which immediately turned into a hard, perfectly shaped circular foil. The Tulonians read and wrote in a circle, the letters spiraling in towards the center.      

Karii could write the words down, could dictate them with his voice, could visually capture his surroundings. He could even mold the plastic material like a sculptor, could draw on it, could make an imprint of his own face, and it would remember everything. He'd been recording handprints every day since the age of ten, keeping a record of his own development. Periodically he would bother Marcius with this, recording his hands as well for amusement. He liked to take pictures of them – the shiny surface remembered everything that was reflected in it. Having finished its work, the substance gathered into a droplet and returned into its burrow, like an obedient little creature.   

"You haven't told me as much today," said Karii, slightly disappointed.    

He tried to recreate the scene his friend had described in his mind, but no matter how hard he tried, the world proposed was too outlandish, and Karii couldn't stretch his imagination far enough to guess what Marcius had experienced.  

"It's too bad you don't draw," he said. "Otherwise you would have been able to depict what you have seen."

"It really is too bad," said Marcius.

Seeing the sorrow in his eyes, his friend asked:

"Do you really believe that that this world exists?"

"It exists. I know for sure. It's there, somewhere far beyond the borders of the Seven Worlds. I feel it!" Marcius replied, with not even a shadow of doubt.     

"One more day until arrival," Karii calculated.

"Did the forecast predict magnetic storms in the Square of the Stingray?" Marcius asked.

"They'll be gone long before we get there."

Marcius nodded.

The route to Girius was well-known and did not present any difficulties. The capsule reached its destination at the designated time. Girius was a space station in orbit around Yurei. Its magnetic field protected it against Onyx's radioactive rays and against cosmic winds. Only recently this area of space belonged to the Oeelians, but after the destruction of their world it got occupied by vagabonds.     

The station consisted of two giant metal spheres connected by thin corridors. The bigger sphere was used as a dock where arriving travelers left their vessels. They would then walk down the corridors into the trade district, which was located in the smaller sphere.   

Without losing any ferromagnetic liquid, they managed to enter the dock through the gate at the bottom of the sphere.

Girius' dock was uniquely equipped to house any type of spacecraft from across the Seven Worlds. The sphere was hollow, and its interior was divided up into sectors. Having pulled his capsule into the Tulonian division, Marcius and Karii ventured out. They were fully equipped. Karii carried on his shoulders the flat grey backpack filled with explosives. Just a single touch to the panel on his belt would send everything flying into the air. Marcius carried the diamond dust in a similar bag, and had a magnetic beam fastened at his hip.   

Marcius was overjoyed to have it back. The beam had three settings – it could cut like a sword, could stretch out and bend like a lasso and could also shoot.  

The staging post was full of wanderers and traders alike, since it was wide open to all. In a nutshell, this was its main and only advantage. Such vulnerability was rare in the Seven Worlds. Everything everywhere was usually locked up tight, but here – unbelievable! No security whatsoever.

It was no easy task to locate in this conglomerate mass a person who was most likely hiding both their face and their name. The only solution was perhaps to start asking around in the crowd, but there was still a chance that Iza would make himself known.

Staying close together, the two young men walked towards the technical division of the market.

"Try to act more natural," Marius whispered to Karii, who was rigid and tense.

Stealing glances at the salespeople as they passed by, they kept moving. As always, the stands were piled high with recycled robots from Iona. Many of them were f*******n. This was just the place to look for a distributor of dangerous systems, but not one of the salespeople examined fit the description.

"If anything, we'll come back later, but for now, let's go upstairs," Marcius decided. They headed towards the top.

The top division was more pleasant to be in. Unlike the soulless robots below, this space was full of life and greenery. The pavilion was bright and spacious. An endlessly long row curled in a spiral towards the center, ending off just as it started – with an elevator leading to other levels. All the counters and stands were woven out of a clear fiber. The vendors showed off their animals, plants, seeds, ready to eat food items and water. Each fair, the Murians always had some new wonder to offer – a new type of plant, animal or insect. Their creativity knew no bounds. These masters of genetics transformed the living world in such unimaginable ways that at times it was even frightening.   

Marcius stopped for a minute, captivated by the sight of a new animal with two enormous identical heads on opposite ends of its body and with one leg in the middle. In no way could he guess which types of already existing animals were mixed together in this beast, and for what purpose it was created.  

"Careful!" Karii called out to him, pointing at something on the ground.

Marcius warily looked down and saw that a polyp was trying to free itself from under his shoe. He hurriedly step off, muttering an awkward apology.

"Let's get out of here!" he ordered.

The Tulonians picked up their pace.

Krameans and Pacifians dominated the second last level. A reddish glow permeated the pavilion, which contained many shiny reflective objects and surfaces. The Krameans sold stones and crystals, and the Pacifians - fabric and jewelry. The shoppers strolling among the rows were mostly female, so Marcius and Karii looked a bit out of place. It was easy to identify Kramean women, even from the back. On their shoulders inevitably sat a genie. This creature, created on Krama, was in style on their planet. It was essentially a ball of light energy venturing forth from a crystal, and it was able to carry out all sorts of errands. It was a personal helper of sorts. It could act as a translator, a friend, a daily planner, even a means of communication.     

Unsurprisingly, the old man was nowhere to be found. The only thing left was to check the gallery upstairs, and then turn to plan B - that is, start questioning the people that passed by.

The gallery was under a dome made out of material so clear it was virtually invisible, creating a distinct illusion of being out in open space. It took some getting used to, and not everyone could feel at ease in such a state. Only people who were truly open, unchained by fear and judgment, were able to find peace. There were no crowds on this level. Only true lovers of beauty made it this far.   

Marcius sat down in a floating chair, hanging in midair nearby without any support. For a moment, he relaxed. Everything around was white - his favorite color. He enjoyed being here. He even allowed himself to momentarily forget the elusive old man.

More or less all the world were gathered here. The circular perimeter of the pavilion was lined with Tulonian sculptures carved from a natural stone found in their world alone. This stone glowed and emanated water. It was considered sacred on Tulona as well as all the other worlds. Hard sculptures alternated with soft, plastic ones. With a magnetic field, the Tulonians transformed a giant droplet of ferromagnetic liquid into a work of art. It was alive and fluid, every moment morphing into something new.

The Krameans displayed their best crystals. All their artwork was based on their ability to visualize thoughts. You had only to think of a face or an event in your mind and the crystals would reflect them back to you. They were incredibly versatile - receptive not only to the thoughts of Krameans, but also to those of visitors unfamiliar with the art-form. Anyone could become an artist. The clearer the thoughts, the more beautiful the images they produced. Marcius didn't dare approach the crystals. Their beauty was tempting, but the Krameans were his sworn enemies, and any object carrying the energy of their world was off limits for him.  

"What if our spy is a lover of fine art?" Karii continued his surveillance, sizing up every person entering the pavilion.     

"I wouldn't be surprised," replied Marcius," Anyone with a brain as sophisticated as his requires some sustenance from time to time."

The Tulonians continued to examine the exhibits.

The Murians displayed masterpieces of the living world: flowers, wings, corals. All their art was alive and moving.

The Pacifians displayed their theatre, which being by far the most popular, attracted the most attention. They put on a show with live actors, something no one else dared to do. Their stage hung in the middle of the pavilion - a silver hemisphere rocking gently side to side. It faced the seats and was brightly lit up from within.   

Today's show was unusual, captivating at first glance. The set was unlike any other. Marcius was shocked, not sure if the others saw what he saw, or if he was experiencing a sudden onset of his visions.

The world depicted by the Pacifians was remarkably akin to the one he saw in his visions. The coincidence was too unlikely. This could only happen if someone had seen the same visions that he had, or otherwise had actually been in that world.

"Karii," said Marcius, his voice cracking, "Remember how you were saying it's too bad I can't draw you the world of my visions?"  

"Yes," his friend replied thoughtfully.

"Well, it looks like someone's already done it for me," he said, pointing to the center of the silver stage.

His friend froze. For several moments, they watched the play in silence, catching every detail. The show was in Pacifian, but few words being said - the main action was based on the visuals. The story was about the space travels of a young man. It was a fantastic tale that drew you in not so much with its storyline as with its dynamic on-stage manifestation. Everything was just as Marcius had seen - the waterfalls, the blue sky, the white clouds, a brilliant star in the sky glowing crimson as it set over the horizon, one single silver satellite, the forests, the bright green foliage so vibrant that not even the fertile Murie could compare in terms of color and size. He distinctly recognized an animal with branching antlers, something he'd only ever seen inside his own head. The holograms kept changing, and people scattered among them, shouting, creating images. But all of Marcius' thoughts in that instant were captured by a single question: where did the Pacifians get these images from?

"We need to look for the old man," whispered Karii, starting to worry that they're losing time.

Marcius didn't hear him. He eagerly awaited the end of the play with the sole purpose of finding out its author.

The show was over. The audience was satisfied. The director came out at last, bowed and said a few words in praise of his emperor. The Pacifians were fanatically loyal to their leader, and everything they did was in his name and for him.  

The light inside the stage was shut off and its exterior was covered with a sheet of glass, preparing the set for a different show. The actors descended to the ground and dispersed. The Pacifian introduced as the director came down last. Marcius grabbed this opportunity and ran up to him ahead of anyone else. He was a slender man with classic Pacifian features, a brunet of medium height with slanted eyes. He was quite taken aback by such enthusiasm. Tulonians were never the type to be captivated by theatre, always carrying themselves sternly with an air of arrogance, never displaying any emotions.         

"Are you the author?" asked the Tulonian, slightly out of breath.

"Yes, that would be me," the Pacifian replied proudly. "I'm also the director."

"That was the best I've ever seen!" Marcius exclaimed with genuine admiration.

The man straightened out his shoulders, smiled, and continued to look at him in wonder.

"What am I hearing?" he grinned at the unexpected complement.

The director wrung his hands unnaturally, talking in an overplayed voice that concealed his genuine manner. He was in character, that character being himself, and he was openly admiring his own art. He was visibly flattered by the attention, but his restless eyes betrayed that he was in a hurry.

"Can I have a word with you?" asked Marcius.

"I've already said everything I had to say in my composition," he replied, not wanting to waste any more time on discussion.    

"I understand, but I won't keep you long," Marcius persisted. "Just one question - what inspired you to create such a world? Why these particular colors and shapes?"

The director rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Imagination, what else?" he replied, slightly hurt, getting ready to leave.

"Hold on a second! Please," Marcius stopped him. "What if I told you that the hologram world you created is real, and not merely imagined?"

"I'm glad that my art has such an effect, but nonetheless you offend me, as if accusing me of stealing it instead of conjuring it up on my own!" he said, pressing a hand to his chest.

"No, no, not at all," said Marcius, bewildered, not sure how to get the author talking. "I only want to know - maybe there was something that pushed you to it?"

The director gave him a stern look and turned away, wanting to leave, but he was held back roughly by Karii.

The director was at a loss. He'd never had to confront two military Tulonians all at once. He lowered his eyes, as if giving up. Then he cautiously looked at Marcius, then at Karii, and then started to talk.   

"Well alright, I'll admit there was one thing. For the longest time I was in search of a new art form, something fresh and exotic. I bothered other artists, exhausted my colleagues, but for the longest time no one could satisfy my demand. And then just recently, by accident, we went with our theatre to Sirius. Maybe you've heard of it - it's a station like this one, but in much worse condition."

Marcius nodded.

"The Krameans brought their crystals there as well, and many people were visualizing their thoughts in them. I'm not a big fan of all that, but I was passing by and was captivated by the memories of this one girl. What she saw was so daring and unusual! Her images were very clear, appearing in colour, which doesn't happen that often. Her talent dazzled me. I used her images in my play."

"How can we find the girl?" asked Marcius. "Surely you kept in touch?"

In sync with his question, Karii handed the director a tablet with diamond dust.

"Worse," said the man curtly, accepting the tablet. "I invited her to work with me. My interest was immediately noticed by her guardian, a sly haggard old man. We made a deal. I took them in, and in return she created for us the world you've just witnessed."  

"So that's to say the girl and her guardian are here right now?" asked Karii.

"Yes," said the director, and lowering his voice, continued on a bit softer.

"I don't know where she'd seen that world, but I will say one thing: I'm thoroughly sick and tired of that suspicious couple. My project is done, and I have no further use for the acquaintance. On the contrary, your interest is evident, and if you offer them money and transportation, they'll tell you everything you want to know."

"Take us to them," Marcius whispered. "We'll do what it takes so that they bother you no more."

The director looked on, intrigued. He forgot all about his rush. It seems that his dislike for his guests was so great that he was willing to give them up immediately.

"Let's go," he said decisively and led them towards his ship, talking all the while: "The old man almost never leaves, sends the child to fetch what they need from the ruins. Its obvious they aren't related, seeing as the man is an Ionian, and the girl - an Oeelian.

Karii and Marcius looked at each other, but didn't interrupt.

"Yes, yes, a complete redhead, probably one of the last surviving. Their behavior is strange and suspicious. I think they're on the run."

The director presented this story as yet another performance, flaunting himself, dramatically playing out his role.

The theatre's ship was anchored at the very bottom of the dock. It was far from new, a little scraped up, but sturdy. It was spherical in shape, with many smaller spheres scattered along its surface like beads. It was clearly Pacifian, Pacifa being the only world where spherical shapes were prevalent. Each small sphere was someone's cabin. The entrance was wide open with no security, which gave away the poverty of the theatre.

They entered through the gateway into the core of the sphere. The space that harbored the stage was currently empty. The rounded walls and floors were evenly riddled with openings that led to the cabins. They were connected by narrow paths.

"Over here," said the director, pointing them towards one of the burrows, "I won't go with you, now you're on your own."

Marcius nodded, thanked him and started his descent down the vertical staircase, with Karii following behind. The passage ended with a round door. Marcius knocked on it a couple of times with his foot, but was left waiting - no one rushed to open up. He then got the idea to tap out the rhythm of military truce that was common to all Seven Worlds.

To his surprise, it worked immediately. There was a click and the door retracted into the wall. From below they were greeted by a pair of brilliant blue eyes. It was the girl, Oeelian  in appearance, just like the director described. Her long red curly hair was braided into two thick braids. She looked at them fearlessly and with confidence, with no hint of bashfulness. Marcius smiled his friendliest smile.

"Hello," he greeted her.

The girl didn't reply, only gave him a playful wink. There was a wild, intense energy in her eyes, and Marcius couldn't hold her gaze for long.

The staircase descended automatically, bringing him down to the floor of the cabin. Still facing the child, he jumped down. Karii came down after him.

Marcius went straight to it:

"What you created for the play is unforgettably beautiful. We're only here to ask you where you've seen that world? Surely you must have seen it somewhere?"    

Marcius asked the question in Oeelian, but she didn't understand. Then, remembering that her guardian was an Ionian, he translated the question into Ionian as best he could.

This time, she understood. She smiled and replied, "I don't know, my grandpa showed it to me."

"Where is he?" asked Marcius.

He barely finished speaking when he felt a cold object pressing to the back of his head - undoubtedly, an Ionian weapon. Marcius raised up his hands. Karii, standing in front of him, saw his shadow and without turning around, reached for the control panel at his belt.

"Took you long enough!" The phrase was said in Tulonian with an Ionian accent. "Turn around!"

Marcius and Karii slowly turned around.

The girl's guardian was indeed the spy they were looking for. Hiding in a theatre was a genius idea. In fact, this was exactly what the old man was known for - his cleverness and sharpness of wit.

"Praise be, I won't have to speak Ionian!" Karii exclaimed from behind Marius. "Only the gods know how difficult your language is for me!"

The stranger grinned at Karii's statement.

"I have been watching you ever since you landed," he said.

The old man's appearance matched the description. His eyes glimmered multicolor in the light, just like Iona at different times of day. They dulled, and then lit up again. In those same eyes, surrounded by countless small wrinkles, was a trace of something lively, childish and playful. The outlines of contact lenses were visible in his eyes. They were the kind that afforded nocturnal vision. He wore a long black hooded robe, wrinkled and shabby. Behind him were various round screens showing Girius from different points. The cabin was cramped and filled to the brim with Ionian equipment.   

The girl ran over to him and grabbing onto the folds of his clothing, huddling close to him. The presence of a child beside a criminal and a spy was disorienting. It didn't seem like this guardianship was inspired by feelings of affection, although the child was lively and outgoing, likely even happy. She spoke Ionian fluently, as if it was her native tongue. She had no knowledge of Oeelian, therefore she must have been with the old man from a very young age - he was likely the only one who could tell Marcius the truth about the world that she'd seen.