A Forest of Stars - Kevin J. Anderson [191]
As the shuttle made its final approach, the tourists donned self-contained protective garments. Anton pulled his suit on, blinking bleary sleep from his eyes. By the time all twelve visitors were ready to disembark, the shuttle had come to a rest just outside the main dome of Maratha Secda.
“Is everybody ready? This is what we came for.” Anton saw the group’s expected hesitation now that they were faced with actually going out into the darkness. The empty, uncompleted city stood as large as the metropolis of Maratha Prime, but uninhabited and full of shadows. He grinned. “Come on, let’s not wait any longer.”
He was the first one to bound out when the hatch opened, and Vao’sh followed. The twelve thrill seekers stepped onto the iron-hard ground and gazed at the magnificent resort-to-be.
The Klikiss robots had laid down platforms for a spaceport and installed a main city dome. Boxlike buildings were strung with intense blazers that spilled a fan of brilliant illumination throughout the dome. Silent transmitting towers rose toward the icy stars in the sky.
Anton looked around in awed delight. “Everything is so bright and washed-out on Prime, I couldn’t grasp the real scale of the city. Secda is sure going to be fantastic when it’s completed.”
Some of the tourists wandered a few steps from each other as if to demonstrate bravery; the others clustered together, subdued.
“That black sky is oppressive,” said a medical kithman. “The stars are like sharp projectiles hurtling toward us.”
“Being outside here in the dark is part of this experience,” Vao’sh said, but even he didn’t sound convinced.
“Now would be a good time for a ghost story,” Anton suggested, looking over at Vao’sh. “Or doesn’t the Saga of Seven Suns contain anything like that?”
“Oh, yes,” the rememberer said, glad to be distracted and called to his inbred duty. “Come, I will tell it as we walk toward the lights.” The others hurried after them, not necessarily eager to hear a tale designed to frighten them, but not wanting to be left behind.
“On our splinter planet Heald,” Vao’sh said, “a group of settlers was stranded when a storm wiped out their batteries and power generators. Each night on Heald lasts for nearly a week, but this particular time of darkness seemed much, much longer. Every second was agony. The clouds were thick from the storm, blocking even the moon and stars. The people tried to light fires, but they had little fuel. Even the vegetation had been soaked and was unsuitable for burning. The colonists were not prepared for such a disaster, and their hope soon ran out. And the night became darker and darker…”
Vao’sh looked at his reluctant audience as they trudged toward the blazers of Secda. In his environment suit, the historian could not take advantage of the multicolored lobes on his face, but his audience didn’t need the added emotional impetus. They were already on edge.
“One other village had been built far down the coast on Heald’s largest continent, but with the power systems destroyed, the doomed town could not send a message to explain what had gone wrong.
“However, as the frightened settlers’ cries became more and more terrified, everyone could feel it all across the world, even to Ildira and the Mage-Imperator. Louder and louder. Then silent! Utterly silent, like an open, empty wound in the thism.” Vao’sh came to a halt and turned his flashing eyes at the uneasy audience.
“A brave team from the second village armed themselves with torches and blazers and went to rescue them.” The rememberer whipped up a finger, startling the listeners. “But when they arrived, they found the colonists all stone dead. Every one, as if every last flicker of life had been snuffed out by the horrifying darkness. Completely cut off from the Lightsource. The fires were cold, not a spark of light could be found in the town. Maybe they had been frightened to death…or maybe their lives were drained by the Shana Rei.”
Anton chuckled. “See, you do have your