Tales of the Amber Vipers Chapter 269

The twisted non-space of Teleportation gripped Kerubim, pulling his flesh in ways it was never meant to endure. He was everywhere and nowhere, spinning through a vortex of fire and laying under a mountain of granite all at once. There was no up or down, no light, no substance and no time, but there was noise. A chittering whisper rang in his ears, calling his name and promising such delights, such wonders if he would but listen. Daemons, reaching for the soulflame of his life as he was drawn across their realm. Kerubim wanted to deny them, he wanted to slam a door in their face but he couldn't, he didn't exist.

Suddenly Kerubim shuddered as he was spat back into realspace, thrown upon a cold metal plate. He fell to his knees as lungs drew greasy air into his chest, gulping down the charged scent of ionisation with desperate relief. His head came up and he found himself on a broad platform, surrounded by bulbous capacitor coils. Cables and wires hung everywhere, linking etheric projectors and cogitators and Heisenberg compensators, all of which were festooned with purity seals. Red-robed adepts stood in knots, voices lifted in praise of the Machine Spirits, thanking them for a successful Teleportation.

"That was…" Kerubim gasped, "That…"

"First teleportation?" Jordig grunted with a queasy tone.

"Aye," Kerubim admitted.

Wulfe spat, "It's nah right, a Rotundus should have his feet planted as the ancestors intended."

"It got us out of there," Brontes retorted, "Better than being broiled alive."

Kerubim was going to continue but then the deck heaved. At first he thought it an aftereffect of the teleportation but then he spied cables dancing and adepts stumbling. The room was shivering like a whipped colt, juddering with a dangerous vibration as the bulkheads squealed. Kerubim immediately knew it was not a natural part of the ship's functions and must be serious indeed. A ship the size of Zar-quaesitor should not be troubled by anything less than massed weapon batteries.

"What was that?!" Kerubim started as he struggled to his feet.

"Ship quake," Jordig uttered, "The main drives are misfiring."

"If ye dannae know, don't guess," Wulfe spat, "That be no drive coil, it's a gravity shift."

"But we're in orbit," Kerubim gasped, "To effect a grav-shift that immense the planet must be…"

"We'd better get to the bridge and find out!" Jordig cried as he set off at a run.

The others dashed after him, sprinting across the packed teleport chamber to the exit. They careened into a corridor, heading immediately for the bridge. Zar-quaesitor had several Teleport chambers and thankfully Cawl had brought them to the nearest location, meaning it was a short run. Yet as they ran they saw teams of scurrying Tech-priests, all with a fretful gait. Kerubim understood why, the walls were quivering and the sound of pulsing plasma generators filled his ears. The Machine Spirit sounded like it was straining at the leash, trying to break free but failing. Not a promised turn of events.

They reached the bridge and sprinted past teams of Skitarii guards, running inside to find a scene of bedlam. The bridge of Zar-quaesitor was in uproar, rows of embedded servitors chattering constantly in distress. Consoles as far as the eye could see were flashing red and cyber-cherubs wailed in dismay as they floated high above, tiny wings beating uselessly as they were blown about by steam venting from ranks of stacked Cogitators. Nothing was encased, every device and wire exposed to the air, as befits servants of the Machine God. There was no command dais either, the master of the ship standing free under a glowing Hololith, Belisarius Cawl, screeching a constant wail of Binaric at his servants.

The foursome screeched up to Cawl as he barked, "Where is Pycelo?!"

"Dead," Wulfe spat, "Went down taking that bastard Ruuka to the grave."

Jordig spat, "Forget Pycelo, what's happening?!"

Cawl cut off his diatribe to exclaim, "The planet's mass-shadow is in flux, I've never seen gravitational sheers of this magnitude. The planet's mass is moving in ways that are beyond prediction, surging tides are trying to drag us down!"

"Light the drives," Kerubim urged, "Break orbit!"

"I did that five minutes ago, it isn't helping!" Cawl snarled.

"Show us," Brontes growled.

The Hololith shifted as the orbit of Cippum shrank. Kerubim looked up and was amazed for Cippum was disintegrating. The surface of the planet was a roiling sea of noxious green, spreading further with every second. It was no longer uniform in shape, losing the squashed ball silhouette of most planets. It was bulging, the entire planet swelling obscenely to one side, like a balloon gripped at one end and squeezed hard. He had never seen such a thing, but here it was.

"The Noxia interregnum worked," Jordig gasped, "The Hungering is producing Phospex at a staggering rate. I hadn't imagined it had spread so far."

"But not uniformly," Cawl pointed out, "Much more of it was on one hemisphere than the other, the effect is asymmetrical."

Kerubim noted numerous small icons fleeing the planet, smaller ships and swifter trade-carracks breaking orbit and fleeing for the stars. Tezla was among them, the faster light cruiser having far higher acceleration curves than the lumbering Forgeship. Of the massive Tithe-ships none had managed to break free, the bulky Mass-Conveyors struggling to lit their drives, let alone race for safety. Throne knew how many refugees from Cippum were cowering in those holds, praying for deliverance, but Kerubim doubted a miracle would come for them.

"If we teleport to the Tezla we can get away," Jordig proposed.

"Too late," Wulfe grunted, "She be halfway to the horizon and she nah coming back fer us."

"I am not leaving my blessed ship," Cawl spat in agreement, "There are boons of knowledge onboard to be found nowhere else in the galaxy."

"Then point us at the planet," Brontes uttered.

"You what?!" Kerubim Jordig and Cawl all spat at once.

"We're caught in a gravity sink," Brontes explained, "We haven't sufficient drive thrust to break free, but if we use the gravity well to accelerate hard we can reach escape velocity and break out on the other side of the planet."

Kerubim was stunned by the mad plan but Cawl cried aloud, "Steer course 070 mark 250, maximum thrust! Omnissiah preserve us."

The crew responded instantly, hard-wired for obedience. Plasma thrusters all over the ship fired, bringing the bow down at a steep rate. Kerubim felt the deck tilting under him as the ship's internal gravity fought to keep up with the sharp manoeuvre, the Forgeship having all the nimbleness of a brick. The Hololith rotated as their aspect changed, showing the planet growing in size as their orbit lowered. Degree by degree Zar-Quaesitor's bow came down, then they were pointing at the terminus, diving at forty-five degrees towards the surface.

"Find something to hold onto," Jordig cried.

"And dannae fash ye britches!" Wulfe added.

Kerubim hastily grabbed a console as the vibrations became worse, shaking servitors in their sockets. Zar-quaesitor was diving headlong at the planet, drawn down by the wild gravity even as her drives thrust for all they were worth. The ship's superstructure began to groan like a wounded animal as she dove, the painful squeal making eyes wince in sympathy. Kerubim saw many gripping silver cog talismans and chanting prayers as they pleaded for divine intervention, few among them believing they would survive the headlong dive.

"We're not going fast enough!" Jordig howled from where he was braced between two consoles.

"Lower the bow ten degrees more!" Cawl commanded from where he was riding the deck.

Kerubim clung on as Zar-quaesitor steepened her dive, plunging headlong towards the planet. The Hololith showed nothing but a sea of green, roiling phospex chewing the land apart. Surely nothing of the Hungering could remain down there but that was no comfort. Megatonnes of Phospex sloshed free, enough to scour a hundred worlds to the bedrock. He couldn't imagine what would happen when that much corrosive brew gnawed through the crust to touch the planet's mantle.

The juddering grew worse as the ship's shrieks became howls of torment. Kerubim fought to keep his teeth from clattering as he cried, "We're brushing atmosphere!"

"More speed!" Cawl commanded, "Oh mighty Machine Spirit, bless us with more speed!"

"Velocity climbing!" Jordig cried.

"Nearly," Cawl pronounced, "Nearly… nearly… now! Bring the bow up, all ventral thrusters fire!"

Zar-quaesitor screamed as the superstructure fought against inertia, struggling to bring her bow up. Fires of re-entry licked across her bow as she streaked through polluted skies. A smoking trail of burnt clouds streamed in her wake as the outer atmosphere was scorched, friction igniting gases in her wake. As a shooting star Zar-quaesitor streaked across the heavens, then her bow rose, just a hair, the smallest fraction of a degree, but then more and more. Slowly Zar-quaesitor emerged from the soup of an atmosphere, her bow aiming for the stars as she drove for the blessed vacuum of deep space.

Violent vibrations died away as Kerubim let go of his console and said in disbelief, "It worked?"

"He built up enough speed to bounce us off the atmosphere," Brontes explained, "The air did the work for us."

"But what of the planet?"

All eyes turned to the Hololith, where Cippum was cracking apart. Seas of Phospex had dissolved the continents, razing rock and stone down to the mantle. In its wake surging seas of magma erupted, the planetary core exposed to the void of space. The raging inferno of the core vented into deep space, battling the eternal chill of the void. A vision of red and black warring for dominance, tainted green where lakes of Phospex still gnawed at the bones of the world. Nothing could survive such a maelstrom, not even Cippum itself. The planet core disintegrated, breaking into a million pieces. Sheets of molten magma lifted away, billowing into the deep void. Fountains of lava sprayed wild, dashing the heart of the planet across the inky dark and Tithe-ships exploded as they were engulfed by the death of Cippum. The molten core, itself the size of Mars, shattered, sending continent sized blobs of iron spinning into the void. Where once a planet had dwelt was nothing but free-floating asteroids. Cippum, once a verdant breadbasket world, was no more, farms, people, crystal pyramids and the Hungering, all had ceased to exist.

Breathless silence reigned as they watched the death of a world play out. Kerubim swallowed to ease a dry throat and said, "It's over?"

"Nothing could survive that," Brontes uttered.

"Good riddance," Wulfe spat.

Kerubim looked upon the devastation and asked, "So what do we do now?"

Cawl sagged on his many legs as he confessed, "I do not know."