Instead they had – after the creature had said what it had to Uagen and after an agonisingly long and absurdly relaxed discussion amongst the raptor scouts and 974 Praf – taken another route out of the interrogatory chamber. This route initially led deeper and further into the quivering body of the dying behemothaur.
Two of the three raptor scouts insisted on going ahead in case of trouble, but they were squeezing their way through the convolutions of the twisting passage with some difficulty and Uagen was convinced that he could have gone quicker by himself.
The passage was deeply ribbed underfoot, making it hard to walk without supporting oneself on the wet and quivering walls. Uagen wished he’d brought gloves. His partial IR sense could make out little detail here because everything seemed to be the same temperature, reducing all he could see to a nightmarish monochrome of shadows upon shadows; it was, Uagen thought, worse than being blind.
The raptor scout in the lead came to a fork in the passage and stopped, apparently thinking.
There was a sudden concussive thud from all around them, then a pulse of fetid air swirled over them from behind, momen- tarily overcoming the flow of air from ahead and producing a still greater stench that very nearly made Uagen throw up.
He heard himself yelp. ‘What was that?’
‘This is unknown,’ the Interpreter 974 Praf told him. The head wind resumed. The leading raptor scout chose the lower left-hand passage and shouldered its wings down the narrow cleft. ‘That way,’ 974 Praf said helpfully.
I’m going to die, Uagen thought, quite clearly and almost calmly. I’m going to die stuck inside this rotting, bloating, incinerating ten-million-year-old alien airship, a thousand light years from another human being and with information that might save lives and make me a hero. Life is so unfair!
The creature on the wall in the interrogatory chamber had lived just long enough to tell him something which also might kill him, of course, if it was true, and even if he did get out of here. From what it had said, the knowledge he now possessed made him a target for people who wouldn’t think twice about killing him or anybody else.
‘You’re Culture?’ he said to the long, five-limbed thing hanging on the wall in the chamber.
‘Yes,’ it said, trying to keep its head up as it talked to him. ‘Agent. Special Circumstances.’
Uagen felt himself go gulp again. He’d heard of SC. He’d dreamt about being a Special Circumstances agent when he’d been a child. Dammit, he’d dreamt about being one when he’d been a young adult. He’d never really imagined he’d meet a real one. ‘Oh,’ he said, feeling infinitely foolish even as he said, ‘How do you do.’
‘You?’ the creature said.
‘What? Oh! Umm. Scholar. Uagen Zlepe. Scholar. Pleased to. Well. Probably not. Umm. I just. Well.’ He was fingering the necklace again. It must sound like he was twittering. ‘Doesn’t matter. Can we get you down from there? This whole place, well, thing, is-’
‘Ha. No. Don’t think so,’ the creature said, and might even have been trying to smile. It made a gesture with its head like a backward nod, then grimaced with pain. ‘Hate to tell you. Only me holding this together, such as it is. Through this link.’ It shook its head. ‘Listen, Uagen. You have to get out.’
‘Yes?’ At least that was good news. The chamber floor wobbled underfoot as another rumbling detonation shook the puppet-like shapes of the dead and dying attached to the wall. One of the raptor scouts jerked its wings out to steady itself and knocked 974 Praf over. She made a clicking noise with her beak and glared at the offending beast.
‘You have communicator?’ the creature asked him. ‘Signal outside the airsphere?’
‘No. Nothing.’
The creature grimaced again. ‘Fuck. Then have to. . . get away from Oskendari. To ship, habitat; anywhere. Somewhere you can contact Culture, understand?’
‘Yes. Why? To say what?’
‘Plot. Not a joke, Uagen, not a drill. Plot. Serious fucking plot. Think it’s to destroy … Orbital.’ ‘What~”
‘Orbital. Full Orbital, called Masaq’. Heard of?’
‘Yes! It’s famous!’
‘They want to destroy it. Chelgrian faction. Chelgrian being sent. Don’t know name. Doesn’t matter. On his way, or will be soon. Don’t know when. Attack happens. You. Get out. Get away. Tell Culture.’ The creature suddenly stiffened and bowed out from the wall of the chamber, its eyes closing. A tremendous shudder whipped through the cavity, tearing a couple of the dead bodies from the chamber’s walls to send them falling limply to the quaking floor. Uagen and two of the raptor scouts were thrown onto their backs. Uagen struggled back to his feet.
The creature on the wall was staring at him. ‘Uagen. Tell SC, or Contact. My name is Gidin Sumethyre. Sumethyre, got that?’
‘Got it. Gidin Sumethyre. Umm. That all?’
‘Enough. Now get away. Masaq’ Orbital. Chelgrian. Gidin Sumethyre. That’s all. Out now. I’ll try and hold this …‘ The creature’s head dropped slowly to rest on its chest. Another titanic convulsion shook the chamber.
‘That which the creature has just said,’ 974 Praf began, sound- ing puzzled.
Uagen stooped and picked the Interpreter up by her dry, leathery wings. ‘Get out!’ he screeched into her face. ‘Now!’
They had hit a slightly wider part of the now steeply descending passage when the wind soughing past them from ahead suddenly picked up and became a gale. The two raptor scouts in front of Uagen, their folded wings acting like sails in the howling torrent of air, tried to wedge themselves against the rippling, buckling walls. They began to slide back towards him while Uagen also tried to brace himself against the damp tissues of the tube.
‘Oh,’ 974 Praf said matter-of-factly from behind and below Uagen. ‘This development is not an indication of good.’
‘Help!’ Uagen screamed, watching the two raptor scouts, both still desperately clutching at the passage’s walls, slide closer towards him. He tried to make an X of himself, but the walls were now too far apart.
‘Down here,’ Interpreter 974 Praf said. Uagen looked down between his feet. 974 Praf was holding onto the ribbed floor, flattened against it as best she could.
He looked up as the nearest raptor scout skidded to within touching distance. ‘Good idea!’ he gasped. He dived. His fore- head bounced off the heel spur of the raptor scout. He grabbed at the ribs on the floor as both the raptor scouts slid over him. The wind howled and tugged at his suit, then faded away. He untangled himself from 974 Praf and looked back. A painful-looking tangle of beaks, wings and limbs, the two raptor scouts were wedged further up in the passage with the one which had been bringing up the rear, in the narrow part they had recently forced their way through. One of the winged creatures clacked something.
974 Praf clacked back, then jerked to her feet and scuttled down the passage. ‘It is the case that the raptor scouts of the Yoleus will try to remain wedged there and so block the conflagration-feeding wind while we complete the journey which we make to the outside of the Sansemin. This way, Uagen Zlepe, scholar.’
He stared after her retreating back, then scrambled after her. He was getting an odd feeling in his stomach. He tried to place it, then realised. It was like being in an inertia-subject lift or craft. ‘Are we sinking?’ he said, whimpering.
‘The Sansemin would appear to be losing height rapidly,’ 974 Praf said, bouncing from rib to rib down the steeply pitched floor ahead of him.
‘Oh, shit.’ Uagen looked back. They were round a bend and out of sight of the raptor scouts. The passage dipped still further; it was now like descending a steeply pitched flight of stairs.
‘Ah ha,’ the Interpreter said, as the wind tugged at them again. Uagen felt his eyes widen. He stared ahead. ‘Light!’ he screamed. ‘Light! Praf! I can see …‘ His voice trailed away.
‘Fire,’ the Interpreter said. ‘Down on the floor, Uagen Zlepe, scholar.’
Uagen turned and flung himself to the steps a moment before the fireball hit. He had time to take one deep breath and try to bury his face in his arms. He felt 974 Praf on top of him, wings extended, covering him. The blast of heat and light lasted a couple of seconds. ‘Up again,’ the Interpreter said. ‘You first.’
‘You’re on fire!’ he yelled as she pushed him with her wings and he stumbled down the steps of ribs.
‘This is the case,’ the Interpreter said. Smoke and flames curled behind her wings as she prodded and pushed Uagen downwards. The wind was growing stronger and stronger; he had to fight against it to make any headway, forcibly walking down the ribbed side of the now almost vertical shaft as though they were somehow back on the level.