Василиса Чмелева – Parasomnia (страница 3)

Sometimes I wondered if my colorful language sent my companion into some kind of cultural shock—which, theoretically, shouldn’t even be possible.

"Let’s see what this iceball’s hiding," I said, pushing forward while cross-referencing the notes Skyla had piped into my helmet display.

Ten steps. That’s all it took for the ice to betray me. My boots lost all traction. I windmilled my arms, caught my balance, then stood frozen. The ship had landed right on the edge of a dead shoreline. Before me stretched an endless ice sheet—what had likely been an ocean or lake before the cold strangled it to death.

"No way—it’ll take forever to cross this," I hissed through gritted teeth. "Plot a new route, Skyla."

"Sensors indicate movement of living organisms at the far end of the water basin," she stated bluntly.

"And we couldn’t land closer to these living organisms?"

"Last time we landed near indigenous lifeforms, they identified Eliot as hostile and nearly torched our sail," the hologram reminded me with forced patience. "To complete this mission successfully, we need to avoid attention, Ethan."

I sighed and trudged forward, struggling to maintain my shaky grip on the ice.

The compass on my sleeve pulsed orange, signaling my slow progress toward the target. Then, at last, an enormous frozen waterfall came into view—and the compass vibrated with a triumphant buzz. I tilted my head back, tracing the dormant giant all the way to its summit. Starlight glinted off the ice shards, making the waterfall shimmer with an ominous glow.

"Which way, genius?" No response. "Skyla. Hello?"

The world split open with a thunderous SNAP—ice shearing, ground convulsing. I hurled myself sideways just as the waterfall’s face peeled away, revealing a sliver of darkness. No time to think: I rolled inside as half the mountain crashed down behind me.

"Damn you, Skyla," I spat. "A little warning next time?"

Beyond the glacier, toward the ship, a laser’s glow pulsed—carving a passage for me, searing through ice that had rested in eternal silence until our arrival.

"Sorry, Ethan. I assumed you preferred action over commentary," the hologram simpered in a guilt-stricken voice before cutting out.

"Unbearable," I snorted, turning toward the abyssal darkness as my chest lamp flickered on.

To my astonishment, an ice-carved staircase spiraled downward into the planet’s depths.

"How far does this tunnel go?" I asked after finally navigating the steep descent.

"Exact length unkno-own," Skyla’s voice crackled. "At this dep-th, Eliot’s sensors are functio-oning at minimal capa-acity. You’ll have to pro-ceed alone. Good lu-uck!"

The comms died, leaving me buried under megatons of frozen earth. Here in the tunnels, my astro-gas analyzer showed oxygen levels creeping upward. I took a testing breath, removed my helmet, and let the heated beanie hug my scalp. A high-pitched whine pierced my ear—I flinched, cursing the earpiece static—just as a towering figure materialized opposite me. My gaze crawled upward in disbelief: three meters above, a creature hunched with palpable curiosity, its attention locked on me.

"The hell’re you supposed to be?" I asked, tongue adjusting the Linguatron’s cheek sensor.

The creature resembled a naked, pale-blue humanoid—except it stood unnaturally tall, with a barrel chest and an elongated, shark-like head. Its narrow, bulbous eyes drilled into me with predatory curiosity as it twisted its small, lipless mouth into something resembling a smile. Yet its facial muscles remained eerily slack, as if it were mimicking human expression without understanding it.

"Welcome to Blokays, Kallinkorian," came the voice through my earpiece as unfamiliar words boomed through the air. "Follow me. I'll introduce you to my people." The creature turned its back to me and began moving deeper into the tunnel, leaving impressively large footprints in its wake. I followed quietly, trying not to stare at its icy posterior.

"Alright then, buddy. Introduce me to your folks. Let's see what interesting things you've got here," ran through my mind.

The tunnel before us fractured into countless forks, each leading into alien unknowns. Time stretched endlessly—I felt like I’d been walking for ages. The creature’s footsteps echoed off the glacial walls, but it moved with swift certainty, as if it had trodden this path a hundred times before. No surprise there—its single stride equaled five of mine. Soon I was drenched in sweat, struggling to keep pace.

To avoid getting hopelessly lost, I began marking our route with quiet precision. Without drawing attention, I planted tiny LEDs at every turn—jabbing their pins into snow-packed crevices. Their faint glow barely pierced the suffocating dark, but in this sunless world devoid of landmarks, it was enough to keep my way home alive.

Each tiny beacon was my only tether in this boundless void. I prayed their charge would last until my return. Time bled onward, and the thought of being trapped forever in these lightless tunnels grew heavier with every step. Yet I pressed forward—step after step—clinging to the hope that the LEDs would outlive my mission. Claustrophobia had never haunted me before, but here, the very air seemed to breed new phobias that tightened around my ribs like a vice.

We emerged into a vast underground cavern—and I gasped. The ice city resembled rows of frozen cryo-chambers, as if time had stopped here yet life stubbornly persisted, adapting to permafrost. Strange crystalline plants hung from the ceiling, their structures like icy shells trapping glowing sap bubbles inside. These bubbles emitted a warm radiance, illuminating the cavern like a thousand lanterns.

"What do your people call themselves?" I managed, watching the towering figures go about their business as if hosting a galacto-head was just another Tuesday.

The creatures moved with an odd, lumbering gait—their perpetual hunch and downward gaze suggesting a lifetime of watching for small hazards underfoot. Probably didn’t want to accidentally squash a galacto-head.

Their size wasn’t the only marvel—some bore their own ghostly bioluminescence. My guide’s cerulean shimmer stood stark against others whose light guttered like dying stars.

"Coldborn," the creature replied. "And what brings a Kallinkorian to Blokays, hmm?" It leaned over me, those small gray eyes drilling into me again. Surrounded by a dozen three-meter-tall beings, I felt like an insect under a microscope.

"Oh, just… traveling," I snorted, then immediately caught myself. I should’ve studied local customs first—what if grinning meant "I’ll kill you" here? But the Coldborn seemed pleased. It nodded.

"Why do some of you glow?" I asked.

The creature opened its small mouth to reply, but was interrupted.

"Glacius!" Another Coldborn called my guide, who turned with a flourish of its icicle-thin fingers. I instinctively ducked, afraid those razor-sharp digits might puncture my suit.

"Glughet," my guide greeted. "Look who I found."

Both creatures stared at me, their faces again twisting into those uncanny mockeries of smiles.

"Storm’s teeth! Another Kallinkorian," spat the second one—Glughet.

"Another?" I blinked. "How many of us are down here?"

"Hot damn, so many," Glacius replied. "With luck, you might meet your own."

"Cozy place you’ve got here," I said, sarcasm dripping as I recalled the surface blizzards. "How do you cope?"

"The wind rose favors us today," Glacius erupted in laughter.

"But it’s windy right now."

"The winds always blow here," Glacius added.

"Why no calm days?"

"Perhaps if your own planet had winds of change more often, you’d already know," Glughet cut in.

Both Coldborn burst into their signature barking laughter.

I had no desire to discuss my homeworld, and the creatures’ blunt comparison made me eager to slip away before tensions escalated. So I clapped my hands and gave a two-fingered salute.

"Thanks for the assist, boys," I said cheerfully. "I’ll manage from here. Gonna wander, get my bearings."

"Not so fast, Kallinkorian!" Glughet halted me. "We’ve a tradition on Blokays. All newcomers visit the ‘Ice Cradle.’"

"True," Glacius agreed. "You’ll love it."

"What is it?" I frowned.

"Hotter than a furnace in there," Glacius said cryptically. "Come, come. The show’s about to start—wouldn’t want to miss it."

"Did you just stumble upon me?" I asked, trailing after the persistent creatures who clearly had no intention of letting me out of their sight.

"Probably that icefall earlier—must’ve alerted the whole damn colony," flickered through my mind.

"Obviously," Glacius drawled, tilting his head slowly. "I was heading to the ‘Ice Cradle’. Evenings there are… spectacular."

"So it’s evening now?" I said, dragging out the words.

Skyla’s data insisted it should be daytime.

"We decide what’s day or night," Glughet boomed. "And tonight, we want evening."

"Bold policy," I snorted. "Alright, show me this ‘Cradle’ of yours."

"We’re already here, Kallinkorian!" Glughet spread his icicle fingers. "Blokays begins beyond this point."

I stared at the cryptic script carved into the snow—presumably declaring "Ice Cradle" in the local tongue.