Read Online Asimov's Science Fiction: September 2013 by Penny Publications - Free Book Online
Authors: Penny Publications
Tags: Asimov's #452
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with pain. A wobbling, shimmering sensation passed through me, as though I'd been turned inside-out.
I'd hopped to a parallel universe, one that didn't have a huge black hole in the vicinity. Here I could use my thrusters to move without the hindrance of the hole's pull. Soon I would return to the original universe, arriving just outside the event horizon. Then I'd emerge from the accretion disc, and receive the audience's applause as they cheered my death-defying stunt.
Remember, I did say that you might be disappointed. Parallel universe, of course—what else would it be?
I felt lighter. I knew that wasn't true, because the pod maintained a constant local gravity. But having escaped the crushing gravitation of the black hole, I almost felt as if I were floating.
I checked the external camera to verify my escape. I expected to see stars. Instead, the outside view was totally dark.
Apprehension surged through me. Had the hopper failed? Was I still inside the black hole?
Another
thump
resounded through the pod. The camera showed a dark figure raising an implement of some kind, then lowering it for another shattering blow. As the figure shifted position, I saw stars around its silhouette. I couldn't tell whether it was a robot, or someone in a spacesuit. I only knew that my rivals' sabotage attempts were becoming rather over zealous.
When I'd hopped across universes, my attacker had been carried along with me. Now I activated the pod's thrusters at maximum force, hoping that the sudden acceleration might shake my assailant loose. But the figure still clung on.
Because I'd fallen a long way into the black hole, it would take time to emerge. I couldn't re-enter the old universe until I passed the event horizon. Then my rival would be forced to disappear, because interference was strictly conf ined to the zone behind the curtain, away from the audience's gaze.
I opened a com channel and said, "You have knocked. So I ask, 'Who's there?' " The shadowy figure leaned toward my camera, giving me a better view of its head—its skull. With smashed cheeks and missing teeth, the ash-grey skull was a visage of hideous decay. The figure's torso wasn't a skeleton, but a blankness even more terrifying than bones might have been. The amorphous body carried a scythe, its edge gleaming in the starlight.
"You know who I am," the figure said, in a deep voice that echoed within the tiny pod. The reply didn't arrive through the com; the voice simply surrounded me. "You have fled me for years, while I followed patiently and implacably. I am Death."
Pangs of panic swept through my brain. I suppressed them. As a showman, I recognized a fellow showman's tricks. The voice had been treated with reverb and a bass boost, to create the echoing effect of doom. The com channel was unnecessary, when simple conduction could transmit sound through the pod's shell. The skull and the scythe gleamed more brightly than the faint starlight should have permitted: they shone with a subtle glow that created a phantomlike aura.
Reluctantly, I admired the workmanship behind the effects; it approached my own level of perfectionism. Yet this only made the panic swell. Someone had gone to a lot of effort to follow me this far in the persona of Death. I didn't know what he had in mind, but I suspected that it didn't involve tea and cakes.
"I see you're still using the tired old imagery of skulls and scythes and whatnot," I said, trying to make my voice sound bored and unconcerned. "Have you considered getting a makeover?"
If I could draw my adversary into conversation, I might distract him from whatever plan he had in mind. The longer he delayed, the further my thrusters carried me toward safety.
"Oh, my costume and accessories are as flexible as I need." The deathly figure waggled his scythe, which transformed into something smaller and more cylindrical.
My antagonist lowered the new weapon to the pod's surface. A harsh metallic whine assaulted my ears. I felt
I'd hopped to a parallel universe, one that didn't have a huge black hole in the vicinity. Here I could use my thrusters to move without the hindrance of the hole's pull. Soon I would return to the original universe, arriving just outside the event horizon. Then I'd emerge from the accretion disc, and receive the audience's applause as they cheered my death-defying stunt.
Remember, I did say that you might be disappointed. Parallel universe, of course—what else would it be?
I felt lighter. I knew that wasn't true, because the pod maintained a constant local gravity. But having escaped the crushing gravitation of the black hole, I almost felt as if I were floating.
I checked the external camera to verify my escape. I expected to see stars. Instead, the outside view was totally dark.
Apprehension surged through me. Had the hopper failed? Was I still inside the black hole?
Another
thump
resounded through the pod. The camera showed a dark figure raising an implement of some kind, then lowering it for another shattering blow. As the figure shifted position, I saw stars around its silhouette. I couldn't tell whether it was a robot, or someone in a spacesuit. I only knew that my rivals' sabotage attempts were becoming rather over zealous.
When I'd hopped across universes, my attacker had been carried along with me. Now I activated the pod's thrusters at maximum force, hoping that the sudden acceleration might shake my assailant loose. But the figure still clung on.
Because I'd fallen a long way into the black hole, it would take time to emerge. I couldn't re-enter the old universe until I passed the event horizon. Then my rival would be forced to disappear, because interference was strictly conf ined to the zone behind the curtain, away from the audience's gaze.
I opened a com channel and said, "You have knocked. So I ask, 'Who's there?' " The shadowy figure leaned toward my camera, giving me a better view of its head—its skull. With smashed cheeks and missing teeth, the ash-grey skull was a visage of hideous decay. The figure's torso wasn't a skeleton, but a blankness even more terrifying than bones might have been. The amorphous body carried a scythe, its edge gleaming in the starlight.
"You know who I am," the figure said, in a deep voice that echoed within the tiny pod. The reply didn't arrive through the com; the voice simply surrounded me. "You have fled me for years, while I followed patiently and implacably. I am Death."
Pangs of panic swept through my brain. I suppressed them. As a showman, I recognized a fellow showman's tricks. The voice had been treated with reverb and a bass boost, to create the echoing effect of doom. The com channel was unnecessary, when simple conduction could transmit sound through the pod's shell. The skull and the scythe gleamed more brightly than the faint starlight should have permitted: they shone with a subtle glow that created a phantomlike aura.
Reluctantly, I admired the workmanship behind the effects; it approached my own level of perfectionism. Yet this only made the panic swell. Someone had gone to a lot of effort to follow me this far in the persona of Death. I didn't know what he had in mind, but I suspected that it didn't involve tea and cakes.
"I see you're still using the tired old imagery of skulls and scythes and whatnot," I said, trying to make my voice sound bored and unconcerned. "Have you considered getting a makeover?"
If I could draw my adversary into conversation, I might distract him from whatever plan he had in mind. The longer he delayed, the further my thrusters carried me toward safety.
"Oh, my costume and accessories are as flexible as I need." The deathly figure waggled his scythe, which transformed into something smaller and more cylindrical.
My antagonist lowered the new weapon to the pod's surface. A harsh metallic whine assaulted my ears. I felt
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