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by Microsoft Office User

  No one responded, which did not surprise Lara. She knew the others had to be overwhelmed grief, shock and fear. Lara also knew if they were to take the time to allow the pain of this moment to overwhelm all their other concerns, they would be dead very soon.

  “Mifuro, where is she?”

  - “we are not sure,” he said slowly. “Anatoly has narrowed the sensor array's focus, and it shows something similar to human presence in the IPG core, but we think that could be an error. The gravity well we first detected outside the ship about five minutes ago is building within the core. The air pressure within is extremely low. We are showing intolerable p.s.i. readings inside. She couldn't survive in there.”

  Lara didn't hesitate. “She could. The Nya-phur’um could will it.”

  - “the what?”

  - “what?”

  “I have to go in there. If she isn't killed, we'll all die. In a matter of minutes, I would think.”

  She put a gentle hand to Peter's face and smiled. Her last conclusion brought a lash of responses over the RIF:

  - “kill her?”

  - “kill Fran? Love, are you out of your mind?”

  - “Lara, how do you know this?”

  Because Daniel told me, and I love him and trust him.

  Rather than telling her crewmates such an absolute truth, she took another tact.

  “I have to leave Peter here. Will he be safe, Mifuro? Is there a chance the vent may open again?”

  - “no, Lara. We've taken that system offline. Susan, where are you?”

  - “just out of the Tube, love. Entering IPG now.”

  “Good,” Lara said. “I'll leave Peter in your hands. He needs help. Can you be trusted to help him?”

  - “never you mind that, love. I'm not a bloody Amazon bitch from hell. Least not right at this moment.”

  Susan did not sound at all offended, and that was just as well as far as Lara was concerned, because this was not the time to go down that particular road. Peter swallowed hard.

  “EVA suit,” he whispered. “You need an EVA suit when you go into the core. Is safer.” He groaned and press a hand over the burn mark.

  “You heard …”

  “Yeah, I heard. Do whatever you got to ..." He paused, then opened his eyes to little more than a squint. “Wear an EVA suit. If something happens again, you’ll be protected. Won't be like Liv.”

  “Yes, of course. My god, I would just have gone right in there. Thank you, Peter. Close your eyes. Susan will be here in seconds.”

  She started through the tunnels at a sprint.

  “Mifuro, isn't there an EVA prep pod somewhere in engineering?”

  - “yes. The pod is SEC 2. Return as you entered the IPG, but as you approach the junction before the SlipTube, the corridor directly to your right will lead into the prep pod. What are you attempting, Lara?”

  “Something,” she said through hurried breadths as she passed Susan at the foot at the hatch, “that I hope won't take longer than we've got. How many lifeforms is the computer showing in the core?”

  Anatoly responded: - “impossible to determine an exact number, but …”

  “You're detecting more than one?”

  - “yes, Lara.”

  She climbed the ladder and started the walk around the core housing. “Good. It's not totally focused yet. I might still make it.”

  She looked over her shoulder as she started down the corridor past the schematics of the IPG. She heard nothing from within the core, where hell was being summoned to invade her home world.

  The next thing she heard was a voice she expected much sooner. Boris was heard coughing over the RIF, then he spoke:

  - “I have better suggestion. Decouple stern from rest of ship. When we are at safe distance, we trigger destruct sequence.”

  Lara needed a half-second to shoot down the proposal. “No, Boris, it would never work. By the time we did all that, the Fyal would be here. The only possible way to stop them is to kill the traveler ... to kill Fran. The Fyal cannot be summoned without her.”

  - “I understand. Then is most appropriate I be one to kill her,” he responded.

  Lara was at a full run as she saw the SlipTube entry before her and realized she overshot her destination, turned quickly, and jogged down a short corridor to SEC 2.

  - “she has killed Olivia. I will kill her,” Boris continued.

  Lara slapped her hand against the printlock, and the hatch popped up and away in a flash, revealing what resembled a very deep closet, and along each side were partitioned cubicles. In each, a bulky gray EVA suit, complete with chest-mounted oxygen generator and the blue-and-red logo of ASTROcom, hung braced against the wall, split open down the middle, with divided arms and legs extended outward as if in mid-jumping jack.

  - “no, Boris. Stay where you are.” Mifuro was speaking. “Lara will get there much faster. She seems to be the only one who knows exactly what we're up against.”

  - “is no point in staying here,” Boris continued. “I am just observer here. I can deal with matters if I kill Fran Conner.”

  Lara had to interrupt. She understood Boris’s anger, but there was not time to give it serious consideration.

  “Anatoly, or Mifuro, I need some help. Remind me of the procedure for dressing in an EVA suit.”

  - “it's very simple ...” Anatoly started.

  “Yes, but I can't remember the details. I was trained before the mission, but that was a long time ago, and I've never had to use one.”

  - “the suit is form-sensitive. You must back into it carefully, being sure to extend your arms and legs to fit within the open extensions. Then make sure your head is squarely centered within the collar brace. It will seem uncomfortable, but once you have the position, drop your back firmly against the wall. That will trigger the wrap mechanism, and the suit will close around you, and the helmet will lock into place.”

  She stepped lively, turned around and started to back in, then realized she was about to make a gross error. Lara reached into her hip pouch and removed the lazgun. She sighed, and she realized her hand was no longer trembling as it held the weapon.

  She placed the weapon on a rack along the side of the cubicle, then stepped back into the suit. The process was simple yet undeniably awkward. She had to spread her legs outward at least 70 degrees each, maintaining balance on one leg as the other dropped down through the appropriate extension.

  As she did this, Lara heard more words from Boris, who continued to insist he leave his position near the cargo bay. Both Anatoly and Mifuro tried talk him down.

  - “we need you to hold that position,” Mifuro was saying. “Are you looking at your monitor, Boris? The crew of the PAC ship is spreading out through the cargo bay.”

  - “yes, yes, I see them.”

  - “do you recognize the device being brought up to the catwalk?”

  - “no. But am sure it will break through defenses.”

  - “help us out, Boris,” Anatoly said. “You don't know what it is, but you're sure it will get them through. We need for you to concentrate. Our rescue ship will be here in minutes. We just need to hold on. Olivia would not want any more of us to die.”

  - “you are not one to know what Olivia would want. I do not believe you know what any woman would want, mister rapist.”

  That last comment came at the instant Lara pressed her back into the suit, and indeed it wrapped around her quickly, quietly and elegantly. The limb extensions and the chest partitions seal-locked together, and she twisted the helmet three times against the collar brace before she heard a clearly defined lock. The suit pressurized, a low hiss easily discernible.

  As Lara reached for her lazgun, she spoke softly. “Boris, there are things you don't understand. But I promise, I will tell you everything when I can. Don't lash out at Anatoly. None of this can be blamed on him. I promise, I'll end this for you.”

  The Russian did not respond, and Lara did not
have time to wait. She moved forward, expecting the suit to be an awkward detriment. Indeed, it was stiff yet surprisingly light, perhaps adding no more than 15 kilograms to her weight. The suit squished around her as she neared a jog.

  - “Boris?” Mifuro asked. “Boris, will you stay put? We need your help to analyze what they're doing. I have tried to hail them in the past few minutes, but they are not responding. They have obviously decided we are aware of their objectives, and they are going to make an aggressive maneuver very shortly. Boris?”

  - “yes. Very well, I will study them. But I do not believe we can stop them.”

  - “how many by your count, Anatoly?”

  - “hard to tell. Eight left out of the ship when the decon sweep passed through. But they've been going in and out of their ship so much since then. And those helmets they're wearing – with their faces shielded, it's impossible to know for certain. I have not seen helmets like that before, Mifuro. Not even the neo-Communists were that frightening during the War of ’99.”

  As Lara closed in on the IPG core, she heard the continuing conversation from across the ship, but they were only words. She heard Susan confirming that she didn't see any signs of broken bones, and she was bringing Peter up. She didn't allow the words into her thoughts. Instead, as she passed the long IPG schematics, she thought of death.

  For all the others, it had come so quickly, never with warning. Did Daniel even have a millisecond to fear or to sense pain before the explosion consumed his body? When Miguel drank a glass of water laced with nanotrax, did he experience pain, or did his heart simply stop? Was it an end without suffering? Did Olivia stare into the endless vacuum of space and know her end was at hand?

  I will see death, but I will not fear it. Not if it is my own or one I must take. I will know there is a sacrifice to make. Death is sometimes a necessity of life – he told me that, and he's right.

  Standing before the giant core housing, Lara slowed her breathing to a reasonable, controlled pace. She gripped the lazgun hard.

  “Mifuro, direct me to the entry hatch.”

  - “you're on my monitor. Proceed as you are about 10 meters. The hatch will be obvious. I will have to utilize the auxiliary printlock override to get you in. I ran a diagnostic, and you are correct. Fran is in there. She used the printlock 14 minutes ago and then disengaged the unit. I am about 10 seconds from completion of the program.”

  Indeed, the hatch was obvious, a solid black casing against the giant titanium dome. A catwalk no more than a meter across connected the bulging hatch with the primary walk from which Lara approached.

  - “must interrupt,” Boris announced. “I believe we must jettison cargo bay immediately.”

  - “what? why do you say that?”

  - “I believe the devices being placed against forward bulkhead are straddle bombs. Force of such explosion could penetrate deeply into Andorran, could cause catastrophic structural damage.”

  - “dear god,” Anatoly said. “Are you certain, Boris?”

  - “quite.”

  - “but an emergency jettison of that section would mean manual breakaway with no retros. The section would be out of control and crash into the atmosphere within minutes. Those people in there wouldn't have a chance.”

  - “it appears,” Mifuro said, “as if they do not plan to give us a chance. Lara, the printlock has been engaged. The hatch should open for you. As for the cargo bay, I am initiating emergency jettison sequence. Boris, because of that segment's structural integration with the rest of the ship, you'll need to complete the remote operation to disengage the anterior struts. How long will you need?”

  - “three minutes.”

  - “can you stay out of the potential blast range?”

  - “cannot say. Do not know what potential range is.”

  This exchange was confusing to Lara, and she wondered what she missed. They want to blow us up? Suddenly, even that seemed trivial against what she knew was waiting inside the core.

  She stepped into the open hatch and walked into darkness. There was a second hatch not more than a meter in front of her. She placed a hand up to it, and the rapid vibration that ran through her forced her to yank back the hand.

  “I'm in,” she said, then took a final, deep breath. “Open the interior hatch.”

  - “good luck to you,” Mifuro offered weakly.

  Lara did not reply. She raised her left arm, pointing the lazgun directly ahead as the hatch rolled back.

  She could not help but be afraid.

  Fran Conner stood directly before her in the center of the enormous core. A red shadow cast itself upon all the features around her, and the traveler seemed not entirely human.

  And then, as Lara stepped to the mouth of the hatch, and the scope of the core opened up before her, she felt her body being yanked forward. She saw much more than a woman in a bodysuit. Indeed, Fran Conner was as much Fyal as she was human.

  I will do this. It is necessary.

  Her hand did not tremble as she tried to press the weapon's tiny trigger button. But her finger would not depress, and her body lunged hard against the skin of the EVA suit. She crossed the threshold, but not of her choosing, and her stomach lurched along with her body. She jerked violently off her feet, slammed hard against the core wall two meters from the hatch threshold.

  A piercing rip of pain ignited along her spine, and the EVA suit turned in on her body, and she felt as if she were being crushed. She screamed, but the sound was muted.

  Just breathe! She told herself. Breathe slowlyy. Just breathe!

  The electric terror of the pain quickly subsided into a dull ache, but now her lungs felt as if they weighed as much as the remainder of her body. She sensed oxygen entering, and her heart raced under the pressure. Her mouth was open, frozen into a gaped jaw.

  She wondered: Is this the horror of a final moment of life?

  The woman who was Fran Conner did not acknowledge Lara, instead breathed deeply from both her human mouth and her Fyal gills.

  The woman was not so much a sharp integration of the two beings, as she more closely resembled a human dressed in Fyal body parts. She wore the alien's single leg like a third lower limb, the food sac as a nauseating protrusion along her hip, and the wrinkled thorax with gills and tentacles dressed on the left side of her chest and abdomen.

  Illusions, Lara concluded. Do not fear illusions. Only what is here, what is real.

  As her breaths became more labored, she paid no mind to the chaotic and now seemingly distant and static-ridden words of her crewmates on the RIF:

  - “not going ... jettison in time ... Boris, go .... no, go now ... no, not in there ... you're too close to ...”

  - “Peter, love, can you ... have a problem here, folks, hate to interrupt ... the man is not breathing ... trying to resuscitate …”

  The RIF failed altogether. Even the static vanished.

  Lara now saw for the first time the manifestation of what Anatoly called a gravity well. It was difficult to make out through the red glow, but the air was clearly moving at a torrential pace around the core, as if at the base of a vortex.

  No, she realized. The end of the vortex. The end of the journey.

  She barely felt the lazgun in her hand and was surprised she did not lose it when she was thrown against the bulkhead. She strained mightily to push her hand toward the target, but it remained gripped to the bulkhead as if held in check by a magnetic grapple.

  Fran Conner turned to face Lara. The human did not open her mouth, but the Fyal cone which wrapped under the traveler's left armpit and behind her head now opened. The distinctive mushroom with drooping blood-red eyes propped itself against its human companion. Fran's head tilted to make room.

  Illusions. I will not fear illusions.

  She could not feel herself breathing.

  And then there was a voice, a familiar one, but the traveler's mouth did not move.

  “In the long run, it's b
etter this way, Lara. They just want to live the way that works best for them. In the greater scheme of things, isn’t that what it's all about? Well, they're coming. Time to say hello.”

  The traveler looked directly upward and raised her human hand. She waved.

  Lara could not shift her body but managed enough force to tilt her face just a nod upward, and her eyes looked through the transparent helmet. Her jaw had enough mobility to widen even farther as she beheld the impossible.

  The upper dome of the IPG core was gone, and the hull beyond it vanished as well. She looked out upon space – countless stars, some of which spanned this galaxy and others that carried to Earth the collective light of neighboring galaxies.

  In an instant her eyes winked, and then again. And then again.

  This is not the way this can end. Daniel …

  She tried to layer hope upon hope that what changes she now witnessed were nothing more than an illusion. But the star field was shifting, the pricks of light rolling over and around each other, many of them consumed and replaced with others.

  And then, in an instant after the shifting stopped and Lara knew she was looking upon an entirely different set of stars, darkness opened up in the middle of them.

  The darkness expanded, not consuming the stars, it appeared, but rather moving in front of them as it closed in upon the Andorran.

  “They aren't such bad folks, Lara,” the traveler's voice emanated.

  Lara was dizzy, her consciousness beginning to slip away, but her eyes widened sharply, and she looked upon objects that were beginning to emerge from the darkness. The shapes were consistent – each one was round, the details not yet possible to discern.

  But they were huge and ovoid. They were chartreuse. She saw seen them before.

  New stars emerged behind the ships that carried almost the entire population of the planet Centauri III.

  At this instant, fear was all Lara could find within her.