by Hugh Howey
“Thank you for saving my life,” she told her friend.
••••
Molly and Cole watched the cargo door close on the three friends they were leaving behind. Walter stomped around behind them, opening cubbies and storing away the food and supplies that had been loaded into the ship. He had already changed into his flightsuit, and after the door sealed, Molly and Cole moved off to don theirs.
In her room, Molly shrugged off her filthy tunics and suited up, expecting the worst. The Wadi sat on her dresser and looked at the mirror, bobbing its head up and down while she changed. She laughed, wondering what the creature thought of its reflection.
Scooping the Wadi up, she left her room and heard Cole in the lazarette cycling up the thrusters. Making her way to the cockpit, she performed a quick systems check. Everything looked good. She wondered about radioing for clearance, but wasn’t sure how to communicate with the tower. As soon as Cole returned and gave her a thumbs-up, she lifted off the tarmac and arced away from the band of buildings ringing the planet.
Parsona rose up through the atmosphere, out toward the colorful horizon. Before breaking the ionosphere, the twin Drenard suns popped into view, bathing the cockpit in a warmth that seemed gentle, innocuous even.
While they waited for the hyperdrive to spin up, Molly navigated through the outbound buoys, waiting for an attack that never came, flying past menacing ships that spun in place, not even radioing her, just watching.
She tried to concentrate on the gauges—then saw the fusion fuel at one hundred percent, which gave her some tenuous sensation of freedom.
They were back on the run, but at least they had fresh legs.
She began visualizing the half-dozen jumps it would take to get to Dakura, but she did so in her head, leaving the nav screen free to check in with her mother. She pulled the keyboard out and typed:
MOM?_
“Mollie?”
The voice came out through the radio speakers, scaring the hyperspace out of her and Cole both. Cole reached for the mic as a reflex, obviously thinking they were being hailed. Molly jerked her hands away from the computer; the Wadi scurried to the back of her seat.
“Mollie?” the voice said again.
“Hello?” Cole asked.
“Is that Cole?”
Cole turned to Molly. “I told you she could hear us!’
“I can now,” the ship said—her mom said. It was a pleasant voice, not chipped and halting the way her old reader used to spit out text. It sounded natural, as a computer might if it could generate sounds from scratch.
“Is this what Anlyn did?”
“Yes. And more. I can see now.”
“What do you mean?” Molly asked.
“They tied me into the SADAR unit. And the cargo camera. Oh, Molly, it was all I could do not to say something when you guys boarded, but I knew it was best to explain on the way.”
“You can see through the cargo bay cam?”
“Yes. And you are so beautiful, Molly. Just as I imagined you.”
Molly reached forward to turn the volume down and power the cockpit door shut. She pulled up the cargo cam and saw Walter strapped to his seat, playing his videogame contentedly.
“Hey, Mom?”
“Yes, dear?”
“Can we keep these upgrades between the three of us for now?”
“Of course, sweetheart, but may I ask why?”
“You can. And I’ll tell you later.”
“Take your time. Speaking of time, having something to look at paces it for me, like a little clock. The agonizing wait between sentences is gone. And I can read the old ship’s logs from the nav computer, the entries your father and I wrote—”
“That’s great, Mom. After we jump out of here, I’m gonna need to ask you some questions.”
“Of course. And I’ll be happy to tell you what I can.”
“Can?” Molly glanced at Cole. “Because of what you know or because of what you’re allowed to say?”
“Some of both,” her mother said, the worry in her voice not sounding artificial at all.
21
The stars shifted positions, and Parsona exited hyperspace.
Molly looked down at the Wadi in her lap, wondering if it was going to throw up on her flightsuit as it experienced its first bout of hyperspace. The curious creature just flicked its tongue and looked at the dash as if it were already bored of space travel.
“Ninety four percent,” Cole advised Molly.
“Plenty. Should be enough to get to Dakura and then back to Lok. We’ll fill up in Bekkie.”
Cole leaned forward and peered at the star charts. “Keep in mind that we aren’t going in a straight shot, though. We can’t risk leaving the Drenard arm of the Milky Way anywhere along the center. The Navy’ll be looking for us.”
“It should still be enough. If we jump out to here, we can make a really long jump across the arm divide to here; there’s not much mass out there to throw us off.” Molly marked rough waypoints on her screen so Cole could see them on his.
The cockpit door slid open, and Walter stuck his head inside. “What are you guyss doing?” he asked.
Cole turned. “Just planning out our run to Dakura, buddy.” He said it with sincerity, impressing Molly once more with how hard he kept trying to make friends with Walter.
His reward, she noted, was the boy’s familiar sneer.
He turned to Molly. “Can I hold the Wadi?” he asked.
“Why don’t you get a juice pouch and see if she’s thirsty?”
He scampered back to the galley, and Cole and Molly exchanged a look. The Wadi flicked a tongue out at the dashboard.
“You really need to name her,” Cole said, nodding at the Wadi.
“I know, but the pressure’s killing me. Anlyn and Dani seem to think she’s important somehow.” Molly thought for a second. “Do I have to give her a last name with a bunch of o’s? Just for tradition?”
“How about Collette?”
“How about not.”
Walter ran back in with a juice pouch and peeled the suction tube straight. He leaned over the flight controls and waved it in front of the Wadi. The creature sniffed the air and crawled up Molly’s flightsuit, wrapping itself around her neck.
“I guesss sshe issn’t thirssty,” Walter hissed sullenly.
“It’s okay,” Molly told the Wadi, peeling its tail off and handing it to Walter. The boy took the thing at arm’s length and hissed playfully at it.
“Be very gentle with her.”
“I will,” Walter promised. He walked out of the cockpit, the Wadi’s arms pawing at the air.
Molly tapped Cole on the elbow. “Can you take the next shift?”
“Yeah, sure. You gonna get some sleep?”
“I wish.” Molly grabbed her helmet off the rack above her head. “I need to have a talk with Mom. Keep an eye on the cargo cam, would you?”
“Sure thing. You okay?”
Molly leaned over Cole’s chair and kissed his cheek. “I’m fine. I promise. I just have some questions I want answered.”
“Take your time. I’ll radio you before our next jump. I’m doing a slow spool—I’m worried we might’ve damaged the drive with so many emergency cycles earlier. So it’ll be a few hours before we can jump again.”
“Perfect. You get some rest up here. If you can.” Molly entered the cargo bay and saw Walter holding a juice pouch over his head, the Wadi swinging its claws at it.
“Don’t tease the Wadi, Walter.”
“Yesss, Captain.”
She glanced up at the camera in the corner of the cargo bay and gave Cole a stern look. Just in case he was watching.
••••
Molly plopped down on her bed and pulled her helmet down tight. She didn’t bother locking the collar, and she left the visor open to breathe the ship’s air. Crossing her legs, she keyed the radio mic, hoping this would work.
“Mom?”
“Yes, dear?”
/> The voice sounded just as pleasant through her helmet as it had in the cockpit.
“We need to talk.”
“I have plenty of CPU cycles to devote to you— Oh, we’re on your private channel. Is this about Cole? Because I don’t know that I’m ready for that talk—”
Molly brought her palms up to her helmet in disbelief and embarrassment. “Mooom! Ew, noooo. I do not want to talk about Cole. We barely kiss—”
“I just want you to be safe—”
“You want me to be safe? Good, because that’s what I want to talk about. No more secrets, Mom. I mean it. If you knew what I’ve been through the last two days—”
“I do know.”
“You know what? Just what Anlyn told you? Because I don’t think even she—”
“Molly.”
“What?”
“Your father went through the same ordeal.”
Molly had a sudden impulse to plug in her suit and enrich the O2. She gasped for a full breath, shaking her head. She tried to voice her disbelief, but all she could squeeze out was a small “No.”
“I’m sure your experience differed from his somewhat, but I think I know what you’ve been through.”
“Dad? He—A Drenard? And… and it was more than the rite, Mom. Politicians wanted us dead. I’ve had to help kill people with my bare hands!”
“As have I. It’s what the Navy trained us for. It’s why your father and I wanted you to stay with Lucin, to join the Academy.”
“You planned that? I thought you were dead!”
“It’s complicated.”
“You keep saying that.” Molly could feel her head sweating in her helmet; she reached across her bunk and lowered the air temperature. “Try and explain it to me. Tell me about Lok, about my birth, about where you’ve been. Tell me where Dad is and how I can help him. I’m sick of groping about like a blind person.”
“Give me a minute,” Parsona said.
Molly grabbed a pillow and put it behind her neck. Leaning back, she sandwiched it between the bulkhead and her helmet. “Take your time,” she told her mom. “We aren’t jumping into Dakura until I know what we’re getting ourselves into.”
“Sometimes it’s better to not know what you’re getting yourself into,” Parsona said. “When I was stationed on Lok, I had no idea what lay ahead. I may not have gone if someone had told me. Even if they’d told me how important my work would be. Even if it meant not having you, I don’t know if I would’ve been brave enough to go.
“I met your father on my second day there. But of course, I was having to act as if we’d been together for years—”
“Wait. You weren’t there on your honeymoon? Did Dad lie to me about everything?”
“No, darling. Not everything. The honeymoon was the cover the Navy cooked up. They thought they had everything planned out, as usual, but then they couldn’t even manage to get us on the same flight to Lok. The mission was a mess from the start.
“I thought I knew everything about your father. I spent months with a reader loaded up with his files and bio, memorizing every detail about him. He was doing the same for me, of course, like two illegals marrying for an Earth permit. That part of the mission scared me more than any other, I think. We were both scared, as I found out later. Scared we wouldn’t like each other, that the ruse would be a strain.
“But nothing in those files prepared me for what I felt when I first met him.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, it’s hard to explain. Or maybe not. Maybe you felt the same way when you met Cole—”
Molly laughed. “I doubt it. I thought he was a jerk at first. That was my default expectation at the Academy. But we got paired up in the simulators— No, I don’t think that’s right, actually. I do remember feeling something when I met him. He was so handsome, but there was something else. A confidence, but one you could believe in. Like an assurance that had been paid for in full.”
“That’s it!” Parsona said. “That’s what I felt with your father. Of course, he used to say he saw the same things in me—”
“What were you guys doing on Lok?”
“Please understand, there are some things I can’t tell you. And it isn’t because I don’t trust you, I promise. I’ve seen you; I know it’s you, but there are other people I don’t trust.”
“Like who?”
“Almost everyone.”
“Ha. I think I can appreciate that.”
“Molly, what your father and I uncovered on Lok is bigger than any of us. We’ve both had to make some tough decisions, choices I wouldn’t wish on anyone else—”
“Like what decisions? Like having me?” Molly felt ridiculous saying it, but the words hung in the air as if someone else had uttered them. She heard their echo and felt angry and sad.
“Yes. Choosing to have you was one of the hardest decisions we made. It nearly killed me. The decision, I mean… but I don’t regret that choice. I never have. I—”
“Where are you, Mom? Are you still alive somewhere? I don’t want to talk to a computer.”
“Alive? Possibly. Or probably. My body is most likely still alive on the moon of Dakura.”
Molly tried to reach into her helmet to wipe the tears out of her eyes, but the visor wasn’t designed with that in mind. “You have to tell me what I’ll find on Dakura, Mom. I’m not jumping in there if I don’t know what to expect.”
“Of course. I had planned on it. When I say Dakura, I actually mean the large moon that orbits the privately owned planet.”
“Someone owns an entire planet?”
“Arthur Dakura does. Or did. It was sixteen years ago. I was very sick, and your father was willing to do anything to save me. You were a few months old when a man we hardly knew arranged to have me taken to Dakura.”
“The doctors there were able to help you?”
“Yes. But they aren’t the kind of doctors you’re thinking of. Not all of them, anyway. The colony on the moon was founded by Arthur and funded with his vast fortune. He wanted to find a way to cheat death, so he concentrated on the human brain, decoding it, teasing apart the programming like a hacker might reverse engineer some software—”
“Why? How would that let him cheat death?”
“Because—and I can only explain it as it has been explained to me—all we are and all we feel is just filtered through the pathways of our brains. If you keep the brain healthy and ticking, feed it the right programming, you can make it feel alive forever.”
Molly grabbed the pillow from behind her head; her helmet thunked back against the bulkhead. She pulled the pillow into her lap, grasping and releasing fistfuls of fabric anxiously.
“Are you like that, Mom? Am I gonna see your brain in a jar or something like that?”
“No, dear. Well, not exactly. I mean… I look at you and I see a brain in a very lovely jar, a beautiful shell designed to protect it, keep it nourished, move it out of danger. They left me in my own jar, if that makes any sense.”
“I feel like I’m gonna be sick.”
“What I’m about to tell you next will likely make you feel worse, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, gods, Mom. What?”
“I haven’t been completely honest with you about what needs doing on Dakura, sweetheart.”
“You said we needed to go there because you’re missing some of your memories.”
“That’s mostly right. But it’s more like misplacing a set of keys. A copy of very important keys. And now we need to make sure nobody else finds them.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sweetheart. When we get to Dakura, I need you to kill me.”
22
Molly nearly ripped the pillow completely open. “Do what?” she asked, hoping she’d misheard.
“I need you to kill me. The old me.”
“What in hyperspace for? I thought we were going to rescue you!”
“Sweetheart, you already have rescued me. The real me is the one in here, th
e one that spent the last few years with your father. The old shell we left behind—”
“Your body.”
“Okay, the body we left behind… it was dying. The man that helped us, he had Arthur’s doctors hook me up to their computers to keep me alive. We thought it was a favor for us, but later, your father realized the man did it for himself. It was years before your father could find a way to steal a copy and install it in the ship.”
“Who was this guy? Why would he do that? And why go back to kill your body? Why does it even matter?”
“We didn’t think it would, your father and I. But years later, we found out who that man was. He isn’t a very nice man. In fact, he isn’t a man at all.”
“Wait—what? Who—or what is he?”
“He’s our real enemy, not the Drenard. That is… it’s hard to explain. We have a complicated past with him, your father and I. You, as well, for that matter.”
“Me?”
“He’s the reason you’re here. He helped deliver you.”
“Deliver me where?”
“Deliver you. As a baby. Your father never told you about your birth?”
“I was six! The only thing I ever asked him about was you, but it just made him quiet.”
“Of course. Poor Mortimor, he always blamed himself…”
“So, who is this guy? Why was he there when I was born?”
“He was following us. Your father and I were tracking down some men for the Navy, and we led him right to them.”
“And he’s not human? What is he?”
“He’s one of the—he’s a burglar, that’s what he is. A simple crook trying to break into our galaxy and open a back door so he can let in—” Her mom fell silent.
“Let in what?”
“I can’t say. I’m sorry. And we’re getting off-topic, anyway.”
“That’s fine with me, because I don’t wanna talk about killing you. The old you, I mean.”
“If I’m—if she’s even still alive. And if we don’t get there before this man does, it might not matter.”
“If it’s been sixteen years, how do you know he hasn’t already?”
