The Trimorphs (The Ammonite Galaxy , book 7)

Chapter 25

SIX AND DIVA had managed to evade the guards on Dessia quite easily. They flashed in and out of existence in front of their very fronds, and generally enjoyed irritating them to a level previously unknown on Dessia. However, they had been unable to do any real damage, or even make the slightest imprint on the mindwall which was so terrorizing the canths.

Six turned to Diva. "This is getting boring. What else can we do?"

She considered. "We could try to get right into the council of the twelve," she suggested. "On the Island of the Enjoined."

Six brightened. "Great idea. Let's go face to face with the prognosticator himself. Maybe we can get him to drop out of the mindwall, and perhaps that will somehow bring the mindwall down?"

"You wish." But she nodded her head, and they both disappeared in mid air just as one of the Dessite guards made a grab at Six. Its fronds met over emptiness, and it looked extremely nettled, before communing with its fellow Dessites and turning to make its way, in a more sedate fashion, to the council chamber.

Diva appeared just in front of the prognosticator's upper membranes, and he transmitted a furious pulse of public infuriation at such bravado.

"Where are the guards?" he broadcast with tinges of red fury, before realizing that his thoughts could be followed by all the billions of minds which were alongside him in the mindwall. He tempered his reaction immediately.

"Please to inform the security system that we have a non-lethal breach in the chamber of the twelve," he emitted, damping down his justifiable frustration. "—Whenever is convenient."

None of the guards that were listening were in any doubt of the meaning of those words. They moved faster than Dessites had ever moved before, and were in front of their leader within seconds.

A scene of pandemonium ensued. The firemorphs were appearing and disappearing with such speed that it was quite impossible for the guards to do anything at all about it. The mental bellows of the members of the council as they were scorched by either Six or Diva were loud enough to be transmitted right through the wall. That did no damage to the actual wall, but it did just take the focus of attention momentarily away from what was happening near the canth astrand, and that was enough to put in a chain of events which would change everything. The firemorphs power only constituted a small annoyance to the members of the council, but their own conviction that such a thing not be allowed made them give it more importance than it deserved, moved the focus of the whole wall for vital seconds, and prevented the prognosticator from realizing in time what was happening opposite the wall.

But that was still micromoments in the future; still unthinkable. At this particular moment in time the only thing that the prognosticator could concentrate on was capturing these two extremely frustrating aliens, and finding a carbon nanographite trap big enough to hold them.

That should be little problem; in the ten years which had gone by since the orthogel entity had escaped from its Dessian prison, they had improved their technology tenfold. The new carbon nanographite traps might not be quite so mathematically elegant as the others, but they were much more effective. It had been calculated that, while they would probably not be strong enough to hold the actual orthogel entity for very long, they would certainly be quite effective against any of the morphics.

The prognosticator flattened his fronds against his body as Six came particularly close, and felt the scorching heat which a spinning morphic was able to generate. His mind flared at the same time, again unable to contain his chagrin at being attacked in his own sanctuary, in the safest place on Dessia. It was mortifying.