Nine

"Jesus Christ on toast, if I go into cryo-sleep one more time, I'm going to wake up dead," Maddie growled, rubbing her head with her bony hands. "That's six more weeks of my life gone!"

"You can't wake up dead, Maddie," I muttered absently. The dream was bothering me. It seemed too much to hope for now that the images I was seeing were merely products of my imagination. They were too familiar. But I remembered my childhood very well, and there was nothing in it that tallied up with the horrifying scene that played out while I slept. My life had been a very difficult one, full of fear, hunger, and even death—but none of it on a planet-wide scale.

Our descent was smooth. The Piranha was a flawless ship and Riddick an excellent pilot. I sat in the copilot's chair, this time, leaning hungrily toward the approaching surface as we flew. We emerged from the clouds into a beautiful golden desert that stretched on and on as far as the eye could see. The sky was darker than sapphire and just as stunning, and as we came upon the city, I saw that much of it was made from a thick, frosty glasslike material that gleamed brightly in the sun's dusky light. It struck me then that I had never in my life truly contemplated beauty. There had been no room for it in the harsh corners of my mind. Now it stood before me in all its vast glory, and I thought of Luciana's eyes, so clear and blue like the sky above me.

I will bring her here when this is over, I thought. Luciana would be at home in this place of beauty. A dusky jewel framed by a world of gold.

Something in the back of my mind was trying to stop me from giving in to such thoughts. This is no time to be poetic, it said, almost lazily. You may be walking into danger. It was not strong enough to hold me back.

"Faster," I whispered. "Please." The beings I could still see in my mind had the answers I sought. I needed to be among them.

Riddick glanced my way for a moment, then increased the throttle with a small smirk.

We touched down gently onto a raised round platform in the center of the glass city. I unbuckled my harness immediately and stood, but Riddick's hand closed over my arm.

"While we're here, I'm not letting you out of my sight. You'll go where I say to go, and you'll stay close to me."

It was not meant as a reminder of his authority, exactly. He was aware that my mental faculties were not what they had been before the detoxification. "I understand," I said gratefully. At least one of us would have his wits about him.

Do not fear us, mikira. We are thought-kin. We will not harm you.

"Someone is speaking to me," I told Riddick. "It's one of them."

"I don't hear anything," Maddie said, a worried edge in her voice. Her hands worked at themselves, clenching and unclenching, and I knew she wished they held a rifle.

"There are no sounds. Only words. Thoughts."

Riddick became very still for a moment, and I knew then that the telepaths were speaking to him, as well. I could not see his eyes behind his goggles, but I felt them. He released my arm and let his hand drop to his side. Wordlessly, he walked to the rear of the Piranha. When he returned, it was with a pair of blades bent into the shape of jagged hooks. These he tucked away, then nodded to us. "Let's go."

The door opened with a hiss, and dark sunlight flooded in, along with the smell of hot sand and notes of bittersweet plants. The air was warm; it had a way of cradling the body like a blanket. A breeze stirred my hair, and Riddick's nostrils flared involuntarily at the scent. He breathed deeply, tilting his head slightly in my direction. How like an animal he was, I mused.

We stepped onto platform and I nearly stumbled, but both Maddie and Riddick snatched my wrists tightly. Five beings—the very golden-skinned, long-limbed beings from my vision—stood over us. Their eyes were enormous and as blue as the sky above us, and they regarded us with what could only be described as…fondness. They were like mothers gazing at a prodigal child, finally home after years of misguided wandering. Small smiles played about their thin lips, and they parted to allow us to come off the platform.

We are so pleased that you have come here at last, mikira. I could not tell which of them made the communication, and, obviously noting my confusion, one of them stepped forward and gently touched my brow with a warm, long-fingered hand. I felt no urge to shudder or shy away. On the contrary, I wanted to wrap my arms around this wondrous being. I knew in the depths of my mind that this creature—no, person—was benevolence in living form.

"Why do you call me that?" I asked, too stunned to think of anything more relevant to our situation.

Know that I am touching the minds of all of you, so that you may all understand my thoughts. I am Sarona. Mikira is an idea which means, "unnamed."

"Unnamed?" Maddie repeated skeptically. "We've all got names."

You have a name, Madeline Rosier. And you, Richard Riddick. Sarona let her hand drop and fixed me with a level gaze. But the one we call mikira has no knowledge of her name. Therefore, we cannot know it.

"What the hell are you talking about? Okay, we call her 'Angelface', yeah, but she has a name. She's Alessandra Magdalena Batista." Maddie's hands were planted defensively on her hips. She absolutely hated all things cryptic; she was a woman who preferred simplicity and efficiency. It was why she had always liked me.

Riddick and I looked on silently. Both of us understood that it would do no good to demand answers. Obviously, the telepaths would give them to us when they saw fit, and not before. I touched Maddie's bony shoulder. "Maddie, please compose yourself. We may not understand now, but—"

She brushed my hand off and rounded on me. "Don't you fucking tell me to compose myself! I've been following you halfway across the quadrant for the last two months and I still have no idea what the fuck is going on! I've been calm, I've been patient, but now they're trying to feed us this mystic bullshit about you having no name, and I think it's about fucking time somebody lost composure around here!"

"They didn't say she didn't have a name," came Riddick's slow, deep voice. "They said she didn't know what it was." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I've been putting some things together while you've been bitching. Those drugs, Angelface's weird changes, and now this place. My guess is somebody messed with her memory. Made her think she was somebody else." He turned to me. "You might have to accept the fact that whatever you thought your life was, it's just somebody's lie. Not real. Think you can do that?"

I felt suddenly very cold. Luciana. If I wasn't Alessandra Batista, what about my sister? Who was she? I received letters from her, visits…I had memorized her every feature. Every last contour of her face was perfectly preserved in my mind. No, Luciana was real. But what was she to me? Was she a pawn in the game? Was she with them? Or was she on my side? I couldn't bear the thought that she might be someone's tool.

"Thinkin' about your kid sister?" Riddick murmured, coming closer to me. There was an uncharacteristic note of kindness in his voice. "Well, don't. It'll just make it worse. Deal with that when it comes. Trust me."

I could not help myself. I put my arms around his waist and hugged him gently, pressing the side of my face against his chest. "You're with me, right?" I asked—pled. It was shameful, this disgusting display of vulnerability, and I hated myself for it, but I could not deny his logical explanation for all of the things that had happened. If everything I had ever known was in question, then the only people I truly had were the ones standing beside me now. Against all wise judgment, I had formed an emotional attachment. And it felt so good.

"Yeah," Riddick said at last. "Yeah, I'm with you."

"Angel…" Maddie began to speak, then stopped. We both knew that it was enough. I'm with you too, to the end, it meant.

I took a deep breath and released Riddick, facing Sarona. "Then it's time we found out why this is happening."

Please follow me, and we will answer.

The telepaths did not sit; rather, they stretched their long bodies across plush couches, reminiscent of ancient Greek or Roman mealtime practices. The couches were far too long for us, but Riddick preferred to stand and so Maddie and I shared one of them. Sarona had arranged for refreshments to be brought into the room—exotic dark fruits and roasted meat, with fresh, cool water in the same glass that formed the city walls, floors, and ceilings. We all ate with relish. It had been a long time since we had tasted anything that wasn't freeze-dried.

Mikira, Richard, Madeline, Sarona began, nodding to each of us. What I am going to tell you might prove difficult to understand and painful to accept. I beg your forgiveness, but it is what you were sent here to learn, and I must carry out my duty. My race, with our collective power, is tasked with the keeping of all sentient knowledge. We are the living library, you might say, of the entire populated universe. There are some of us whose minds can reach even into other universes, and in order to prevent madness, our philosophy is noninterference. However, in this case, we cannot sit idly. We cannot leave our planet. We draw our very life force from its center. But we are not powerless to act, now that you have come.

Richard, the instant you became the leader of the Necromongers, we knew. My sire was the one who read in your mind your plan of vengeance upon the ones who caused the death of your only friend. We knew what would happen when you killed the Half-Dead Lord Marshal.

"So you know about the ship," Riddick said. "That's what this is all about, isn't it?"

Yes. When you killed him, his life force joined with the ship. He was not truly alive, and so he could not truly die. He carried the energy of the Underverse within him. Even he did not comprehend the full meaning of what he had done to himself. You then activated the self-destruct sequence of the ship and escaped just before it destroyed itself.

"But it didn't work," he finished for her. "Instead, it just disappeared."

Sarona nodded. Yes and no, Richard. It, like the Lord Marshal, is only Half-Dead. Therefore, it exists both within the Underverse and within our universe. Everyone aboard is dead. They could not withstand the crossover. The ship, however, or rather the spirit of the Lord-Marshal, must be destroyed in both 'verses if it is to truly die.

"Why does it matter?" Maddie asked. "I haven't noticed any difference. Why can't we just let it drift out there?"

The ship has become like a beacon in the darkness of the Underverse. Already the lost souls there have begun attaching themselves to it. It will serve as a means for them to come into our universe, and where once there was only one man bringing about the enslavement and deaths of billions, there will be thousands upon thousands. The rest of us could not hope to resist such a force. In time, there would be no life at all here. All will have made the pilgrimage—forced or voluntary—into the Underverse. Into death beyond death.

"So. Save the world again," Riddick said bitterly. "Worked out so well last time. Maybe you should go ask somebody else."

We aren't asking you to do anything more than to stay by the side of the mikira. You will not need to fight. Merely allow her access to your memories, so that she can find her way through the ship. We need you to be her guide.

I stared at her. "Why must it be me? I may be perceptive, but I can't read minds."

What I have to tell you will make you very angry, mikira.

"Stop. Calling. Her. That," Maddie hissed, bristling.

Very well. Angelface is a fitting label. Through the minds of the others, I can appreciate your physical beauty. In any case, I must confess to you that the crime for which you were jailed never happened. It was I who ordered your imprisonment.

I did not flinch. I merely watched her strange face and tried to feel something akin to anger or surprise, but found that I was too exhausted to manage it. Maddie, however, had no trouble at all.

"You did WHAT?"