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suffocated two of the raptor scouts who d gone ahead of them.
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
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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.
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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,
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