Second Quadrant

Cairo-3998 aka Planet Challenger

The Dungeon — Fifth Level

The walls opened for Figaro without him having to do anything. He just had to approach and a hole would melt into the indestructible walls.

He stepped through into another empty room with four walls.

“Are you doing this?” he asked.

“No, you’re doing it,” said Ubik.

“Sorry, I wasn’t asking you,” said Figaro.

“Right, right, you’re talking to your imaginary friend,” said Ubik.

“He isn’t imaginary,” said Figaro, mildly confused. “You’ve spoken to him. He exists.”

“Oh, I know he exists,” said Ubik. “That isn’t the imaginary part. Over here now.” Ubik walked towards the wall on the left, but stopped when he realised Figaro wasn’t keeping up. “Problem?”

“If you don’t think he’s on our side, shouldn’t we do something about it?” asked Figaro. He was more than willing to accept that his organic had its own agenda, but so far they had allowed it the freedom to act as it pleased, more or less. And it had been helpful. More or less.

“He must think it’s useful,” said PT, looking around the room even though it was exactly the same as the previous room. “For now.”

“It is natural for them to be suspicious of me,” said the voice in Figaro’s head. “Just as it is for you. We both know you should be cautious.”

Even the organic agreed.

But Figaro had grown up being manipulated just as much by those on his side as those against him. Maybe more so. You could catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Although, a more concentrated acid generally worked quicker than both.

Ubik was playing by his own rules, which he kept to himself, and the organic was doing its best to come across as an ally, which could come to an end at any moment. The only one he really trusted was PT, and that was because they were both looking to come out of this in one piece and nothing else. He didn’t want anything from Figaro. At least, not yet.

The wall opened as Figaro walked towards it.

“You’re making this happen?”

“No,” said the organic. “Not consciously. I know as much about this place as you do, in terms of detailed information. But I can feel we are accepted here. This place was built to receive us.”

The truth was, Figaro could feel it, too. There was something here different to any other Antecessor site he had encountered. The way the walls parted for him, it was almost like they were welcoming him in.

They entered another room. Ubik was already heading towards the opposite wall. Then another and another. Each room was identical and completely featureless. Ubik seemed to know exactly which direction to take next.

“And this is the right way?” said Figaro.

“It… feels like it,” said the organic.

“Then how does he know where to go?” said Figaro.

There was no response.

“Did your dad teach you to be this paranoid?” asked Ubik. “Assume the worst at all times, just in case?”

“Yes,” said Figaro.

“He would have killed those two back there, I suppose, and not even thought twice about it, huh?”

Figaro stopped to think. “No, he would have got some useful information out of them first. Then again, he probably wouldn’t have come in the way we did.”

Wondering what his father would do used to be the first thing that would come to mind in any given situation, but that was becoming less and less the case. There never seemed the time. It was only when he was faced with deciding the most expedient way to deal with their two extraneous team members his training had kicked in.

You didn’t leave a potential problem behind just because it posed no immediate threat.

Not unless you were Ubik.

“This way,” said Ubik.

“Why is there nothing stopping us?” asked PT. “Where are the droids and the traps?” There was a casualness to his voice that made it sound like he was just making conversation out of boredom and didn't really expect an answer.

“It’s easy, isn’t it,” said Ubik. “Not surprising, though. This place was specifically built to hold the treasure until its master came for it.” He looked towards Figaro. “All that stuff above us, that’s for the staff and employees. Down here, this is the vault. You put the guards outside the vault, right? Not inside. Once you prove you belong here, they let you do what you want. We don’t have anything to worry about. No one else can come here. Not droids, not even Antecessors. No one but the special one.”

“Then how do you know which way to go?” asked Figaro since Ubik seemed happy to explain for once.

“Flow,” said Ubik. “I don’t know what it is or what it does here, but there is a movement… no, not a movement, just a flow. You know, like how you can tell there’s water nearby even though you can’t see or hear it.”

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“No, Ubik, I don’t know how to do that,” said PT. “Do you?”

“Find water?” said Figaro. “No, but there are organics who can do that sort of thing. Maybe he has access to something similar.”

“But he doesn’t have an organic, or anything like it,” said PT. “Do you think the universe just gave him special powers so he can do impossible things? Are you saying you believe in magic?”

Figaro shrugged. “My organic talks to me, so I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask.”

Figaro walked through the wall Ubik indicated but this room was suddenly different.

It was still black walls with a dim pink glow, but it was much bigger. And there was a pillar on the far side, emitting a brighter pink light.

It was thin and not very tall, but there was something on top of it. Something large and black with several appendages, a little like a spider.

“Here we are,” said Ubik. “Told you it would be easy.”

Neither Figaro nor PT took a step forward.

“What’s that?” asked PT. “It looks familiar.”

It was far enough to be hard to make out clearly, and the lighting didn’t help. Figaro used the visor on his suit to get a closer look.

“It looks similar to the bone,” said Figaro. “Same material, but… I think it’s a hand.”

He couldn’t be sure, but the appendages did look like fingers. Four of them. And the shape was roughly that of a claw or a hand.

“Do you think it goes with this?” PT took out the bone which he carried around and used as a weapon. He had found manipulating it was less stressful on his body than any other material he had used. “We don’t have to go around collecting bits of a skeleton and put it together, do we? That would take forever.”

“No, of course not,” said Ubik. “This is the map that will point the way. Literally.”

“That’s our map?” said PT. “A hand.”

“Can we just take it?” asked Figaro. He was very aware that Ubik hadn’t walked across the room to get it.

“This is where it gets dangerous, doesn’t it?” said PT. “The Antecessors can’t come here, so they sent us down to fetch what they need. Once we get it, they won’t need us anymore. Not all of us, anyway.” He was looking at Ubik, trying to spot some sign that he had hit on the truth.

Ubik didn’t reveal anything other than a grin. “Have you been taking paranoia lessons from him?”

“Nope, you’re definitely up to something,” said PT.

Figaro wasn’t sure if PT had finally found a chink in Ubik’s armour, or if he was bluffing.

“There is no danger for you here,” said the voice in Figaro’s head. The ball of light in the corner of his vision bounced around excitedly.

Figaro looked down. “It’s the floor, isn’t it? There’s something strange about it.”

The floor was made of elfidium, but it was broken up into square tiles, each about the size of the rooms they had passed through to get here.

He could feel a pull towards some of them and push away from others.

“Only you can cross here,” said the organic. “Only your—”

Ubik went running across the room, going left and right as he zig-zagged towards the pillar.

The tiles lit up as he stepped on them but did nothing else. It took him about thirty seconds to get across.

“How did he do that?” said the organic. “I… No, that can’t…”

“I found the flow,” Ubik shouted across the room. “Follow the same path, you should be alright. Probably.”

Figaro looked at PT. “My organic is in shock.”

“Now he’s one of us,” said PT. Then he stepped onto the first tile.

“Try to think light, fluffy thoughts,” shouted Ubik. “A pair of Delgados would also help.”

“Thanks,” said PT, his eyes on the ground, ready for it to fall out from under him.

Figaro set out after him. He could feel an attraction to the path laid out by Ubik. He didn’t know if it was the ‘flow’ but it was clearly the correct way.

“You need to be wary of him,” said the organic.

“I am,” said Figaro.

“More wary. He can take away what is ours.”

“He can have it,” said Figaro, and felt an uncomfortable sensation in his chest.

They both made it across to where Ubik was waiting. He hadn’t approached the pillar or the hand.

Now that they were closer, the hand was easier to see. It was more than a metre in length and its surface twinkled, just like the bone. It seemed to be balanced on a narrow beam of pink light that was different to the elfidium around them, but still gave off the same type of light.

“Go ahead,” said Ubik. “It should be perfectly safe for you.” He took a long step backwards.

“Is it dangerous?” asked PT.

“Nope.” Ubik took another step backwards.

Figaro approached the pink pillar of light. The hand was resting on top of it, perfectly still.

“Wait,” said PT. “I want to try something.”

PT took out the bone, which was currently a sword handle. It popped in his hand and was suddenly a bone again, back to its full size when they first found it. PT was just about to hold it up. “Does it match?”

He moved to the side to see them both together.

“Yes,” said Figaro. They did look like they came from the same creature.

“Okay, hold on.” PT moved closer, pointing one end of the bone at the back of the hand. “I can feel a pull. I think this is right.”

“No,” said the organic. “You must not allow this.”

A surge of power rushed up Figaro’s body from his chest. He was losing control. The organic was forcing him to release a huge amount of energy.

He immediately pushed it down, using his organic-negating powers on himself.

It was difficult, but the organic didn’t seem to be resisting him, it was trying to direct everything at PT.

Perhaps it had a good reason for that, but Figaro knew who he would prefer to put his faith in. He focused hard, using his organic suppression and also every part of his training to quell the rising surge.

PT touched the bone to the hand and they connected, the hand sliding off its stand, the weight tipping the bone downwards. At the same time, PT shrank them both down to a more manageable size.

The room started shaking and the floor behind them started to crack.

“What’s going on?” said PT, waving the bone around. The hand had one extended finger, which continuously pointed in the same direction.

“Did you suppress your organic?” shouted Ubik, who was even further away now.

“Yes,” said Figaro through clenched teeth. “Is that why—”

“Great, well done.” Ubik came running back towards them. He grabbed the bone out of PT’s hand, who let it go.

“Why do you want that?”

“I don’t.” Ubik shoved the bone at Figaro, who held onto it. “Quick, the pillar. Change it.” He grabbed PT by the wrist and pulled him towards the pink pillar of light which was flickering.

“Change it to what?” said PT.

“Doesn’t matter. Elfidium. It exists or it doesn’t.” He pressed PT’s hand against the pillar.

It shattered, just like the wall in the magistrate’s room had, leaving a cloud of dust, and a pink stone that fell on the floor.

Ubik picked it up. “Got it.” He looked very pleased with himself.

Around them, everything was collapsing.

“This is what we came here for?” shouted PT over the noise.

“Yep.”

“How do we get out?” asked Figaro.

“Hmm? Oh…” Ubik looked around like he had just realised what was happening. “Um, give me a sec. I’ll think of something.”