Page 16 of The Enduring Universe
Carefully, Iravan manipulated the wind stream around Darsh. He slowed long enough to jettison the boy down to the clearing, watched to make sure he was safe, then accelerated again. Darsh would take his command from the Garden, directing other Ecstatics in the Deepness the way Iravan had just now. He was going to act as a general in the war, helping the other Ecstatics with their trajection, while Iravan took the battle to the enemy. Dhruv had disapproved, both for using Darsh in this way and for the fact thathedid not have that control though he was Iravan’s true second, but this was a matter of trajection. The sungineer would not be able to help. Iravan could feel his simmering annoyance over his communication bead.
But then Iravan forgot about Dhruv’s irritation, for he had arrived.
Irshar spread out below him, a lone city in the jungle with spires and columns sprawling far into hills. Even as Iravan watched, a massive tower cracked in two, falling in slow motion, bodies hurtling through it as the Virohi escaped in streams of smoke. Several buildings surrounded a huge central plaza, each of them caving in, sucked from within. Roads and paths snaked in and out of each other, massive stone slabs rising in the air then crashing in balloons of dust. Arches and orchards crumbled. Dust rose everywhere, asif many tiny earthrages were beginning. Within the city, shadowy tentacles swam, appearing almost human-like in their imitation of arms, and legs, and bodies. The single massive core tree shivered in the center of the plaza, rearing back in agony.
Next to this, the Garden remained untouched. Existing a few miles away, far enough from Irshar to stand as its own dwelling, the Garden was separated by a large swathe of hills. A massive tower made of bark and moss rose within a central courtyard, leaves curling and uncurling with the power of trajection. Glinting glass windows trembled in their panes, their chinking sound coming to Iravan through his beads. This last final storm would surely destroy the Garden too, but for now it stood strong, uncontaminated as it was by the Virohi.
Grim laughter bubbled in Iravan as he looked back to Irshar. He had created the Garden in purity. He would purify Irshar too. He hovered, surveying the landscape for a long second.
Wind buffeted his feather cloak. A thousand lives within him radiated their terrible fury, their desperation, their will. Voices thrummed in his head, echoing from the architects in the Deepness. Even from so high up, he could hear the screams of the citizens within the ashram.
I am going to save you, Iravan thought, but he did not know who the words were for—himself, the citizens, Ahilya, or humanity.
His wings flapped in the Deepness as a signal he was about to enter the Conduit.
Iravan pulled the Ecstatics with him into the Moment, and a billion stars surrounded him. In the Moment, the possibilities of the cosmic creatures glittered at him. Some shaped like irregular stars, some like rocks tapering off into waves, others like smoke-filled chambers that thrummed and vibrated—all were possibilities of the Virohi, blinking in and out. All living creatures werereflected as possibilities within the Moment, including the Virohi now that they had become so fully part of this dimension, but consciousness existed on a scale of sentience and awareness, and one could only sense an awareness less than their own in the Moment. The Ecstatics—advanced though they were, and capable of sensing a yaksha—were still not sensitive enough to feel the consciousness of a massive entity like the Virohi. None of them had the capability—not even now when so many of them were tied to him. Iravan almost wished he could show them what the Virohi looked like. Unlike regular stars and frozen possibilities, the cosmic creatures existed as movable pieces—so advanced and alien that even the Moment could not contain their infinite possibilities. They were alive here, in the same way architects were.
Iravan had found these strange stars of the Virohi long ago. He had prepared for this instant. He had simply not trajected the creatures so far, ignorant of how he would harm Ahilya or Irshar in the process, but with Ahilya’s failure, there was no need for such deep care.
They were here. They were accessible. They were finished.
Iravan dove from the skies, launching his attack.
7
AHILYA
The Etherium was out of control.
The mirrors in the chamber cracked and bled, smoke and mercury leaking from them. Ahilya slipped in the chambers, and her reflections rebounded in every direction, shards of smiles, splinters of grief.Stabilize, she thought frantically—but the mirrors only multiplied further, a hundred of them, more and more until she could discern no sense between any images. Her form grew meaningless. Only fragments of the Virohi remained.
Frantic, Ahilya retreated from the chambers. She opened the door in her mind that connected her to Iravan’s Etherium, and saw him flying, his feather cloak billowing behind him, a silvery birdlike creature glinting in the evening sun. Her eyes flickered to Eskayra in terror.
“Help me,” she said, her voice a sob. “Help me, Esk. What do we do?”
“Ahilya, please.” Eskayra threw a look at Chaiyya. The Senior Architect hurried over from the other architects and took Ahilya’s hand again.
“Take a deep breath,” Chaiyya instructed.
Ahilya noticed Meena increase the dosage of the medicines entering her bloodstream through the intravenous glass. Someone draped a cloak around her, but Ahilya couldn’t stop shivering.
At Chaiyya’s instruction, Kamala opened up another connection to Irshar. The image flickered, flakes of stone rippling down the walls in a crumble. Chaiyya crouched down and pressed Ahilya’s shoulders. Her voice was low, her eyes deep pools of concern.
“I need you to be calm,” Chaiyya said. “Look at this, Ahilya. Tell me what you see.”
Smoke rose and curled from Irshar. The cosmic creatures were pulling away from the architecture. A rooftop cracked, citizens screamed, and the smoky form of the Virohi shimmered. The cosmic creatures extended a tentacle from the walls, then the tentacles morphed into arms. Ahilya thought she saw her own hand, but it withered into smoke, scaly fingers turning ashy.
The jungle beyond remained motionless. Underneath them, the ground was firm, as if to mock her with its steadiness. Ahilya was an archeologist—she knew what was occurring. Irshar was where the Virohi lived, but Ahilya was in the jungle, and she had control of them. She was the eye of the storm. In her absence the storm would hit the city first. The citizens—her sister, her nephews, her friends—would all be buried under the avalanche of her failure and hubris. Then, and only then, the storm would spread to the jungle, trees ripping apart, dust and earth exploding, until nothing remained. Until it washed over Ahilya and finally took her.
Would they feel pain? How long would it take the Virohi to fully extract themselves, and to destroy the planet? They would do what they’d always done, break the world in order to find form as architects, but such a thing was no longer possible, not now they had been brought into this dimension fully, no longer operating ascreatures outside of the Moment. They would end up destroying the earth and themselves, for no reason. They would mutilate the architects, making them bleed crimson like they once had, and it would all be for nothing. She should have told them that. She had been foolish not to already; her persuasion in the Etherium had always been disoriented, with logic a fleeting weapon.
She could feel their confusion now as they emerged from Irshar. No doubt the Virohi sensed something amiss in their plans but the hive evolved fast. What would they do in their loss and confusion? Would it take time, or be a terrible slow decay? She rocked herself, because this is what it was always going to come to—ever since she had stepped out of Nakshar with Oam. The destruction of her world and of humanity, all because of her foolishness, her arrogance. Ahilya stared at the holograms, a horrible gurgling sound emerging from her throat.
“She can’t,” Eskayra said, her voice hollow. “She isn’t focusing. She is in shock.”
Chaiyya nodded grimly. “Basav,” she said. “Tell us what is occurring. Tell us clearly, so Ahilya can hear and understand.”
Basav’s voice floated out from Chaiyya’s citizen’s ring. “Irshar crumbles, and the Virohi are making ready to attack. We cannot see Iravan-ve, or the Garden. No one is sending aid.” Terror was palpable in the Senior Architect’s trembling voice. “We are alone,” he whispered in disbelief. “This is how it ends then.” He trailed off, a soft sob.
