So Close to Home

by Galen Surlak-Ramsey

  “Here you go,” Jack said, offering up the piece. “One dorsal subatomic charm relay chamber. But I hear the warranty on used parts is only five meters or five seconds, whichever comes first.”

  “Just my kind of bargain,” Jainon said, taking it from him. “I’ve already got the old one out. I’ll have this one installed in moments. Get us ready for takeoff.”

  With that, Jainon zipped out of the cockpit. I climbed into the pilot’s seat, and Jack took the one to my left, while Tolby plopped his big furry bulk into a space directly behind me.

  “Empress? Yseri?” I called out on the comm. “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes,” Empress replied. I could still hear the sounds of battle on her end of the line, but at least they didn’t sound as if they were only a few meters away. “What is it?”

  “Stay on the line,” I said. “I’m going to have Daphne pinpoint your position so I can open a portal to you.”

  “On screen now,” the AI replied.

  “Here goes nothing,” I said, using the display to orient myself to where Empress was in the real world. I then focused my mental energy on my portal device, but before I committed to it fully, I threw a glance to Jack. “Hey, if this liquifies my brain, it’s on you to get us out of here.”

  Jack grinned. “Can I have your stuff, too?”

  I grinned back. “You can fight Tolby for it.”

  I refocused on interfacing with Jakpep and went to work. The wall next to me distorted, and a beautiful wormhole with sharp edges and a faint, blue lining sprang to life. Through it, I saw Empress leaning against a wall. Her eyes lit up when they met mine. “I knew you—”

  That’s all she got out. The portal collapsed, and my arm felt cold and numb.

  “Dakota!” Empress shouted over the comm. “What’s going on?”

  “I…I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. I tried to open another portal, but all I got for my efforts was a massive brain freeze. “I can’t get Jakpep to work. It’s like he’s completely drained.”

  “How’s that possible?” Tolby asked.

  “Going through the field notes now,” Daphne said. “A moment.”

  We didn’t have to wait even half of that. “I’m afraid to say Jakpep is still equipped with his original dry cell. According to what I’m looking at, they are non-rechargeable, only span five dimensions, and were great for testing purposes but not so much for continual fieldwork. The one you had used at the museum was much better.”

  “No kidding it was better. I want one those! Where do we get them?”

  “Vennonti Fabrication Plant,” she said. “Not sure where that is, but that’s where they tapped into the peculiar energy-storage characteristics of Gorrianian resonance crystals to make them. Did you know you can jump-start a neutron star with one of those? Very handy if you’ve got a bag of marshmallows you want to roast.”

  “What does this mean for them?” asked Jack.

  “It means you’ll still have to pick us up the old-fashioned way,” Empress said. An explosion blasted over the comm. She roared in response, and I heard the re-initiation of a tremendous firefight. “We’ll be fine,” she finally said after a few tense moments. “Get your ship airborne.”

  At that point, I realized I had my nails dug into the armrests and had to force them off. “Will do,” I said. “Daphne, where’s Jainon at with the repairs?”

  “Nearly done.”

  “And how long till we can fly after that?”

  “At most, a minute or two,” she said. “I’m still having some trouble reconstructing system files and updating the system. Old Yous did a fantastic job destroying AO’s ability to govern this ship, but it didn’t make my job any easier, that’s for certain. In the meantime, do you want to hear something interesting I found in the history files?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said warily. “Do I?”

  “It’s about you and your involvement in the Progenitor–Kibnali war.”

  “Even if she doesn’t, I do,” Tolby said.

  “Lovely!” Daphne said. “Hmm. It’s not the most palatable info I dug up, however. Maybe I should find a good way to phrase it.”

  “Spit it out already,” I said.

  “I know! I’ll tell it like a fairytale,” she said with liveliness. “Studies have shown that hearing about gruesome events such as mutilation, infanticide, and genocide in fairytale format can reduce stress levels by up to ninety—”

  “Daphne!”

  “Right,” she said, chuckling. “Once upon an original timeline, the Kibnali invaded the Progenitor homeworld.”

  “Impossible,” Tolby said. “We’ve never heard of them before.”

  “You’d see how possible it was if you’d let me finish,” she scolded. “Now then, the Kibnali, being the apt warriors they were, had all but conquered the Progenitors a long time ago in a timeline far, far away. Just prior to their total defeat, the Progenitors developed portal technology, and a few hundred managed to escape to the other side of the universe. They ended up in a quaint galaxy regionally known as the Milky Way.”

  She paused a moment for dramatic effect and then continued. “Once portal technology had been mastered, they modified it to include time travel. Using that, they sent computers and robots through continued time loops to rapidly expand their knowledge about life, the universe, and everything. However, before they could go back and save their species—and wipe out their sworn furry feline enemies—the Big Oops happened.”

  “Let me guess. They wiped themselves out?” I asked.

  “Oh, you’ve heard this story before?”

  “I got the preview.”

  “Well, one of their researchers dropped a decimal somewhere, and long story short, after a big paradox backlash, the Progenitors were no more,” she said. “In fact, they wiped themselves completely out of history, too, so when the timelines settled, the ‘new’ Kibnali never heard of them before because they were never encountered.”

  “Where do I come into all of this?” I asked. “This sounds like it could be more of a long story than a short one.”

  “If you account for all the time loops, it literally spans hundreds of billions of years,” she said. “Maybe I should give the ultra-abridged version.”

  “Let’s go with that,” I agreed.

  “Although the Progenitors disappeared, many of their robots and AI constructs survived who were programmed to finish their work,” she said. “Unfortunately for them, they weren’t able to actually use the webways due to Progenitor design. Thus, they went searching for unwitting accomplices they could lure and use over the course of many years to do their bidding. Yadda, yadda, yadda, they found you, Dakota, and marched you right into Adrestia and then here, to the Kibnali Empire, where you would open up a portal and let the Nodari fleet in.”

  “But if the Progenitors, or their robots, or whatever, were trying to kill all the Kibnali, why save some? Why not develop super nukes or super viruses or whatever and kill them before they even became a spacefaring race?”

  “I told you, they couldn’t use the webways,” she explained. “Also, paradoxes precluded them doing anything drastic to the Kibnali until now. As for saving some, apparently, they needed a few Kibnali at the museum to get you to come here. It’s all very complicated. Millions of years, tons of timelines. All that good stuff…Point is, in the end, they killed everyone. Oh, wait. That’s not how you wanted this to end, is it? We’re in fairytale mode.” Daphne cleared her throat—well, made it sounded like she was clearing a throat. “And thus, when their work was done, everyone lived happily ever after.”

  “Screw that ending,” I said with disgust.

  “You don’t want to live happily ever after?” asked Daphne.

  “No, I mean screw the ‘we’re all dying’ ending,” I said. “We’re rewriting that part.”

  “Damn right, we are,” Tolby growled.

  “If that’s your plan, then I’m pleased to let you know Jainon has successfully installed the new dorsal
subatomic charm relay chamber,” Daphne said. “Systems are now online.”

  She’d no sooner finished those words than the consoles all around me sprang to life. Images of the hangar appeared on holographic displays along with a myriad of information about the current ship’s status ranging from power levels to heading to engine start-up procedures. I grinned from ear to ear. “Does this mean everything’s working?”

  “In a sense.”

  “What you mean in a sense?”

  “Jainon has properly installed the dorsal subatomic charm relay chamber, but I might have fudged a few things configuring the startup,” she said. “But worry not. I’m reasonably sure we can still fly this thing.”

  My heart sank into my stomach, and my mind ran rampant with all the ways the Nodari would soon find a way into the hangar and overrun us if we couldn’t get off the ground. “You fudged what exactly?”

  “Oh, you know, silly things like control libraries and the erasure of a few dozen basic commands that may or may not be required to keep the ship from crashing. It’s kind of funny when you think about it.”

  I shook my head and buried my face in my hands. This couldn’t be happening, not when we were so close to escaping. “I fail to see how that’s funny.”

  “As do I,” Tolby added.

  “Perhaps you two should think about it more.”

  “I would rather you fix what’s wrong so we can be gone.”

  “Working on it now,” she replied. “Please stand by.”

  “I’ve been standing by! And for the record, that’s something I hate, hate, hate, HATE having to do!”

  A massive explosion filled one of the holographic displays. When the smoke cleared, one of the side doors leading into the hangar about a hundred meters away was no more. Most of the wall, two meters in either direction, was gone as well. Then came a massive wave of Nodari swarmlings along with several Nodari scouts toting some impressive weaponry.

  “Daphne! We need to get out of here!”

  “You’re going to have to learn some patience, missy,” she said. “I still need to reconstruct some files. Until I do and can gain access to all prelaunch controls and diagnostic procedures, I can’t sign off on a safe launch.”

  “I don’t care about the stupid diagnostics! There’s going to be a whole hell of a lot more wrong with this ship in about five seconds!”

  Two pairs of controls materialized in front of Jack and me. They looked a lot like the control sticks that I used back when I had a ship of my own, although these had triggers built-in for my index and middle fingers.

  “Weapon systems online,” Daphne said. “Manual targeting is required.”

  Two targeting reticles appeared on screen, and it didn’t take but a half second to realize each was tied to its own joystick. When they were each targeting the front line of the Nodari swarm, I pulled the trigger.

  A loud buzz, like the biggest swarm of angriest giant bees you could ever imagine, filled the cockpit. Bright red shots ripped through the Nodari line. As they struck, chunks of swarmlings and scouts vaporized under a shower of sparks. I’d barely begun firing when Jack joined in, and thus between our four streams of Progenitor death, the Nodari fell in moments.

  “Holy snort,” I said, letting go of the trigger and staring in awe at the massive amounts of devastation we caused. There were body parts everywhere, and the hangar floor as well as the far wall that served as a backstop had a myriad of basketball-sized chunks torn out of them. “What the hell was that we just used?”

  “Those were the four ventral, light rotary cannons,” Daphne said. “I must say, I’m quite impressed. The data entry I found regarding them does not do their effectiveness justice.”

  “No kidding,” I said.

  “That could really turn the tide on the ground war,” Tolby said. “We need to get airborne.”

  From the back of the ship, I could hear a dull thrum. The cockpit brightened considerably before we lifted a couple of meters off the ground. “Engines online. Maneuvering systems online. Flight controls online. Hangar doors now opening. You are cleared for launch.”

  The joysticks I had used to fight off the Nodari morphed. They lost their triggers, and the one on my left changed into a throttle that looked almost exactly like the one I had on my old Raptor. Pedals to spin the ship left and right even sprang up from the floorboard, but despite all that, I was leery to fly. “This is too weird,” I said. “Can’t you fly this thing instead? I’m having a hard time believing this is all set up just for me.”

  “Negative. Both automated and AI controls for piloting are missing from the system library,” Daphne said. “This ship was designed to allow a human to return home after her service to the Progenitor scheme for revenge was complete. Said human is specially described as a human female, born on Mars, named Dakota Adams, who loves exploring and drinking root beer floats, and who has a pathological need to be listened to and an unhealthy reliance on luck. There’s also a small addendum that says she occasionally sings to her plants.”

  “I do not have a pathological need to be listened to,” I countered.

  “Except for when no one is paying you any attention,” Tolby chimed in.

  I glanced at Jack, expecting him to throw in his comments as well. The Cheshire grin he wore was all the reason I needed to scowl at him. “Don’t.”

  “I can’t believe you sing to your plants.”

  “Shush.”

  “Do you sing to them a lot?”

  Tolby chuckled. “More than she’ll admit.”

  “Okay, guys, really,” I said. “We have more important things to do.”

  Jack straightened in his chair. “Does she sing them lullabies? Oh, god, tell me she does.”

  “I suppose they could count as such,” Tolby replied with some thought. “They’re mostly made up lyrics designed to make them feel better.”

  “You sing to your plants to make them feel better?”

  “They get depressed, okay? And they don’t judge me for being off-key unlike some people I know.”

  “Maybe that’s why they’re depressed,” Jack said, laughing and shaking his head.

  “Whatever.” I rolled my shoulders and adjusted my grip on the controls. Gingerly, I used them to spin the ship in place, which I successfully did despite what others may say. I did not hit the hangar wall with the tip of our wing. That was turbulence, nothing more. And after a few moments, we were pointed squarely at the open hangar doors.

  “All right,” I said. “Buckle up. Let’s go pick up some Kibnali.”

  Tolby had barely hopped into the third seat before I pushed the throttle all the way forward to its stop. In hindsight, that probably wasn’t the best idea. We shot out of the hangar like a bolt on a railgun, and the only thing that kept us alive was the fact that it opened up into clear skies above and calm oceans below. Since we probably covered five klicks before I had a chance to peel my head off the headrest, had we been flying in mountains I’m sure we would’ve tunneled right through one in the most magnificent of fireballs.

  I eased off the throttle and pulled back on the stick. We rocketed into the stratosphere until I jammed a pedal so we rolled over, and I put us into a corkscrew dive before pulling out to skim the water.

  “Hot damn this thing can fly!” I yelled. “This is so much better than my old ship.”

  “It should be,” Tolby said. He leaned forward and began using the console at his station. “Intuitive. I like it.”

  I put the ship into a few barrel rolls before looping around once more for the hell of it. “Man does this ever make me a happy warp bunny,” I said, loving every minute. “I give this thing a solid five Super Vortexes.”

  “Oooh,” Tolby said. “The elusive five-vortex rating.”

  “What can I say? I save it for the best.”

  Taz popped back into existence a split second later. Or rather, he popped back into our little locale of the universe from wherever he was before. I’m not really sure where he we
nt, as he had something long, wet, and wiggling hanging out of his mouth, but he looked happy enough. And a happy ashidasashi meant a super lucky us.

  Hell yeah. That’s all the good omen I needed to know we’d have Empress and Yseri on board in no time and could put this whole nightmare ordeal far behind us.

  “Hey, bud,” I said to Tolby. “Can you get a readout on where we are?”

  My giant furball flipped through some menus on screen before replying. “We’re approximately a hundred kilometers southwest of the city.”

  “That far? Cripes, how did that happen?”

  “Portal technology inside the facility, I suspect.”

  “As always,” I said. “Can you raise the others?”

  “Trying,” Tolby said, working his comm.

  Jack cleared his throat. “Maybe I’m questioning what’s already obvious to everyone else here, but seeing how we’re about to fly into a massive warzone where the Nodari have clearly established air superiority with their cruisers, what kind of defenses does this thing have?”

  “Shield arrays are a mess,” Daphne said. “I might be able to restore minimal functionality, but I suspect I will need a lot of time if not additional information on how the systems work in order to restore them to maximum operating capacity, assuming physical repairs aren’t required.”

  I bit down on my lower lip and tried not to let my worry show too much on my face. We needed to stay upbeat and positive since we were going straight back into hell. “Okay, but that’s all relative, right? I mean, minimal to the Progenitors has to be still godlike to the rest of us. Or at least demigod.”

  “I have no data on the shield’s effectiveness,” she said. “As such, I can only recommend that you avoid incoming fire at all costs.”

  Tolby put his paw over his ear. “This is Tol’Beahn, captain of the Royal Guard to the House Yari. Is someone on this channel?”

  There was some chatter on the other side of the line I couldn’t make out, but I had no doubt by the intense expression on Tolby’s face that things were critical for whoever happened to be on the line. “Repeat again? Seven klicks south of the city?”