Eternity's Mind

by Kevin J. Anderson

  The Kutuzov was there watching, and when the last CDF and Solar Navy ships had rushed out of the void, she activated the standby systems of the two sun bombs Kotto had left on the threshold. As the hex ships raced toward the opening, she detonated the nova explosions, and their effects from deep inside the void rippled and resonated and fed back upon themselves. The flares were even more intense than what she had seen before, as if the explosions were enhanced on the boundary between reality and nothingness.

  The brink of the void was already unstable, and as the CDF ships and Solar Navy warliners soared out into realspace, Keah watched the hole in space collapse like a mouth closing, a scar healing—leaving the Shana Rei trapped behind in their void.

  The rest of the CDF and Solar Navy ships flew out into the vast nebula.

  Keah was sweating, her heart pounding. Heaving a deep breath, she forced unrealistic humor into her voice. “Well, that sure got their attention.”

  CHAPTER

  105

  ELISA ENTURI

  She survived the transfer—just barely. The stardrive activated and lurched her into lightspeed at the moment the Verne opened fire. Elisa’s ship suffered extreme damage—she knew immediately that it was bad. One of her in-system engines dropped offline, and she felt the explosion resonate through the ship.

  “Hold together!” she shouted, as if she could threaten the hull into maintaining integrity. If the structural plates failed catastrophically, she wouldn’t have enough time to know it.

  Elisa slammed her hand on the controls. Brindle and Handon had tried to kill her! She was so angry she was shaking, and she didn’t bother to set a course. Not yet. Her ship flew off into nowhere.

  Elisa had never been a warmhearted person—she knew that—but she was reliable and trustworthy. She counted on others the way they counted on her, and she’d been lulled into a false confidence. She had come to Relleker offering her services—and Brindle and Handon had tried to destroy her. The only thing that felt worse than the betrayal was a sense of her own stupidity. What had she been thinking?

  Now, she felt a throbbing inside her skull as she recalled Xander Brindle’s last threatening transmission, how the Verne had opened fire. Bastards! Traitors and murderers. She could have helped make their new business operation into a guaranteed success.

  “Bastards…” she whispered again. There was no one to listen. Everyone who mattered to her had been taken away.

  As her ship flew on, she ran diagnostics, assessed the damage. Her hull had held together, just barely, but it would not withstand any further stresses. Some of her fuel was leaking, but the ship still had enough to reach plenty of basic destinations … if only she could figure out where to go. She didn’t dare return to Newstation.

  She wanted to reset the clock, reset her life. Everything that had previously mattered had been burned away. She had already changed her name from Reeves back to Enturi, reclaiming her original surname and erasing any connection to Garrison. Now, though, as she flew away, the name Enturi also made her think of her old family back on Earth—losers, screwups, parasites. How her life would have been different if she hadn’t been forced to spend so many years dragging them along as baggage. They probably resented her for abandoning them, for refusing to give them a handout in their time of need.

  Well, Earth was destroyed now, and she could just imagine them calling out her name at the end, demanding that she rescue them when the robots and the Shana Rei closed in. Their loss presented no great problem to the universe.

  Elisa had once thought that overcoming difficulties was a mark of her character, that adversity made her stronger. If that was true, then she must be strong indeed.

  She called up cockpit images of Seth. She still retained a library of her son’s photos, although she had edited them to remove vestiges of Garrison, whom she no longer wanted to see as part of their family. In truth, she had lost Seth too. The workers and teachers at Academ had denied Elisa her rights to her own child—but Seth had fought against her, too, as did Lee Iswander’s son … and even the wentals! The whole Spiral Arm had turned its knives on her.

  Good riddance to all of them.

  After pondering for more than a day while she drifted between star systems, Elisa made up her mind that she would take what she needed. It was her due. She could wallow in misery and let herself be stepped on again and again, or she could go back and play the one remaining card she had left.

  Lee Iswander owed her far more than Xander Brindle and Terry Handon did. It was her last chance. Before she gave up entirely, she would go back and see if he could change things, if he could prove himself to her again.

  With hot tears in her eyes, Elisa adjusted course and performed a final status check on her stardrive and the amount of ekti remaining in the reactor chambers. She decided the ship would get her there. Nursing the engines, double-checking the integrity of the damaged hull, she guided her ship away.…

  In less than a day she returned to the bloater-extraction operations with the tank arrays being filled by halfhearted workers. The bustle seemed lackluster to her now, or maybe she just saw it without the illusion of excitement she had felt when she was in Lee Iswander’s good graces. The industrial activity seemed quieter, the number of ships and workers less than before. Some unreliable Roamer workers must have abandoned Iswander when times got tough. Elisa felt indignant on his behalf—she would never have abandoned Iswander … if he hadn’t cast her out first.

  She flew in, seeing drained and discarded bloater husks drifting loose, as if there weren’t enough people left to corral them. The pumping operations continued at full speed, but the ekti-X tanks were piling up for distribution. Three full arrays were ready to be shipped, and other tanks were corralled in stockpile groupings. Iswander was probably unable to sell it. Elisa had seen how he was blackballed at Newstation. By now, there would be so many other upstart ekti producers that any buyers could simply brush him aside.

  Once again, the man would be ruined. Elisa could have helped him.…

  He was a fighter, though, and Elisa wanted to fight at his side—if he would have her back. They belonged together. She had her pride, and she hated the fact that this was her best option. Elisa did what she had to do.

  Even though the security had become lax, her arrival was soon noticed. She ignored the comm inquiries and transmitted directly to Lee Iswander. “I need to speak to you in person, sir.”

  When his face came on the screen, she was shocked to see how drawn he looked. He had dark circles under his eyes. Iswander no longer looked strong and confident; instead, he seemed at least partially broken. “Elisa, I told you to go. You are not welcome here. I can’t have you at my operations.”

  Seeing him like this caused a deep ache in her heart. She had meant to shout and demand her rights, but now he just looked weak.

  Elisa was not weak, though. “You have to take me back,” she said, but her determination lasted only an instant. Her vision blurred. “You have to take me back!” she repeated. “I’ve got nowhere else to go.”

  CHAPTER

  106

  XANDER BRINDLE

  After the “unpleasantness” with Elisa Enturi, Xander and Terry decided it would be a good idea to go back to Rendezvous, hauling the next batch of salvage hulks with them. That woman’s arrival reminded Xander that even though the Shana Rei and the black robots were out to eradicate the human race, there were also plenty of dark and evil people out there, too.

  It wasn’t just Elisa driving him away from Relleker, though. The planet below was completely dead, and it sickened him to see so many ruined civilian ships wiped out in orbit.

  “I think our place is at Handon Station, so we can make sure it’s run properly,” Xander said. He gestured out the Verne’s front windowport. “We’re executives. We have people to do this sort of work.”

  Terry nodded. “We should be there.”

  OK sat at the helm controls awaiting orders. “I would be happy to monitor the ship
s to be dispatched to Rendezvous. Shall I compile an inventory of the most viable Relleker salvage ready for delivery? With the tethers holding them together, we should be able to transport the entire batch.”

  “You do that, OK,” said Xander.

  Terry added, “With all those expensive modifications we made, now we’re using the Verne as a space tug!”

  The compy diligently did his work, as Xander contacted Annie D, Omar Selise, and the other salvage workers. Omar responded, “You two go back to Rendezvous and make sure the repair yard is ready to put the pieces back together. We’ll keep gathering spare parts.”

  Annie D added, “We should already have enough components to build at least ten new ships for the open market.”

  OK interjected, “If my assessment is correct, the currently salvaged components can be reassembled into at least nine standard cargo vessels. I am assessing various ship designs to make the best use of our resources.”

  On the screen, Omar fixed his gaze directly on Xander. “And you tell me what else you find, you hear? I’m counting on you for my grandson.”

  “I’ll let you know,” Xander said, in a rush to end the conversation.

  In the weightless ship, Terry pulled himself into the piloting deck with his legs drifting behind him. He swung into the chair. “What was that about?”

  Xander talked quickly. “We have to distribute responsibilities if we’re going to run a big operation. You don’t need to know every administrative detail.”

  Terry chuckled. “Nor do I want to.”

  As they prepared to depart, the last salvage hulls were securely tethered together. With its enhanced engines, the Verne could tug them using boosters, hauling all that salvage to the Rendezvous asteroid cluster. The setup reminded him of the old-fashioned custom of tying tin cans on strings behind a newlyweds’ car. When the load was ready, the Verne accelerated the collection of wrecked ships.

  In the previous several days, Xander had studied the medical reports OK had scouted. Terry kept himself so busy monitoring the debris field that Xander had opportunities to do the work out of his partner’s view. He was no medical expert, but from what he could tell, the spinal-restoration research showed promise. As far as he was concerned, the experimental treatment might be worth the risk, despite the small possibility of bad side effects, but he hadn’t mentioned it to Terry yet. He knew his partner would have a knee-jerk reaction against it, but Xander wouldn’t listen to his excuses. Rather, he intended to gather all the data, compile his arguments, and present his case—then see what would happen.

  At least four times during the flight back to Rendezvous, Xander tried to raise the idea, but he always backed down, convinced he should double-check just a few more details.

  Terry sensed something was off, but did not press Xander for details, letting him take his time. Xander had never known Terry when the other man could use his legs; the degeneration had set in while he was only a teenager. By now, Terry was so accustomed to his life that he didn’t bother with wisftul dreams of running across green fields. But if Xander could give him that …

  The Verne returned to the asteroid complex, and when they arrived, Xander was pleased to see the traffic. At least five more ships had joined the work of Handon Station.

  “We’re on our way to become the new go-to supply station and repair yard,” Xander said brightly.

  Rajesh Clinton responded as soon as they arrived. “I’m glad to see you two! I agreed to take over when Garrison had to leave, but I never meant to run the show. Do I at least get a raise? Or maybe profit-sharing?”

  “A raise,” Xander said. “We’ll discuss terms later.” The money meant little to them, considering Terry’s fortune, but Xander was reluctant to squander it, even so. He had to keep watch on his partner’s business interests.

  Above the main Rendezvous cluster, the Verne detached the towed salvage hulls and components, and Xander called out for clan teams to suit up and help separate, clean up, and inventory the wrecks. Terry was already in the back compartment prepping his exosuit. “I’m going out to monitor operations. I can make sure all the pieces are distributed and get work crews started on them right away. We’ve got a reputation to build.”

  Xander said, “I’ll dock the Verne and head inside the main asteroid for admin work.”

  Terry chuckled. “You’ve never volunteered for paperwork before!”

  Xander forced a smile. “I can see how much you want to go outside. You know what you’re doing.”

  Suited up, the other man cycled through the airlock, skimming out into space where his useless legs were no hindrance at all. Terry jetted around like a silver fish, moving from wrecked hulk to engine component, nudging them, using heavy impellers to shove the massive objects into place.

  Xander watched him, saw how easily he moved, the grace he demonstrated in zero gravity, and he wished he had half as much finesse working out in space. Once again, he tried to convince himself that Terry would really want the risky proposed cure.

  CHAPTER

  107

  CELLI

  From within the stressed terrarium dome, the two green priests had a perfect vantage to watch the CDF and Solar Navy strike force rush back out of the void. Wide-eyed, Celli whispered to Solimar, “Did they just lead the shadows back to us?”

  Solimar stepped closer to the crystalline plates of the greenhouse dome, pressing a hand against his back, which ached due to sympathetic pain from the agonized trees. The long hairline crack had been sealed and reinforced, but other weaknesses would surely manifest soon; even the original girders were at the limits of their material strength. The new arcs of the expanded dome had been completed, but the Fireheart factories could not produce sheets of reinforced crystal quickly enough. Only one wedge of the larger dome had been completed.

  When General Keah detonated the sun bombs on the threshold, the flare of light at the boundary somehow cauterized the wound in the universe. Inside the terrarium, the bent worldtrees shuddered, and the pain of their existence resonated through telink and into the verdani mind. Celli felt the hurt in all her bones and muscles.

  The Roamer work crews on the new dome framework raced away, evacuating to the main admin station. Celli watched them go, wishing they would come back. “Keep working,” she whispered. “Don’t leave us.” At a minimum, they still had a week of work to complete the project and let the trapped trees have a little more room.

  Meanwhile, the battered Kutuzov, Okrun, and the Mantas headed toward Fireheart’s main admin hub. Solar Navy ships swooped around the heart of the nebula, extending their solar-sail fins. The supergiant core stars seemed intensely bright, as if defying the shadows.

  Inside the terrarium, the two worldtrees strained and groaned, and Celli gasped as she heard a loud creaking, splitting sound up above. Another lightning-bolt crack extended across the main crystalline dome.

  Solimar said in a deep and concerned voice, “The new dome may not be finished soon enough. Someone will force us to leave—very soon, Celli.”

  “No! The trees are part of us, and we’re part of them.”

  “But I won’t let you die for them. The dome is going to fail.”

  The trees shuddered again, and Celli wrapped her arms around the nearest trunk, as if to extend comfort while drawing support from the worldforest mind. For the next few hours, she lost herself, just existing there as she saw through millions of leaves on dozens of planets.…

  Then a dark, cold ricochet passed through Celli’s thoughts. Suddenly more alarms shot across the Fireheart comm systems. She groaned with dread.

  Three Roamer scout ships raced in through the boundary of the nebula, transmitting urgent signals. Far outside in space, two new shadow clouds had unfolded from the emptiness, enormous black blots that converged on their target from a different direction. Even though the Big Ring’s gap into the void was sealed, the Shana Rei created their own access point. The ominous black nebulas expanded into realspace—and then poured toward
the Fireheart nebula like a thunderhead composed of the darkest smoke.

  Station Chief Alu sounded a preemptive evacuation order for all personnel. “Fireheart is not a place you’ll want to be in the next few hours—follow your Guiding Star and get out of here. We can’t fight the Shana Rei or their robots.”

  The ships and industrial operations became a storm of activity; workers and transport pods began to move, abandoning the energy-film farms and the isotope-gathering scoops. Solimar grabbed Celli’s thin arm. “This is it—we can’t stay. The trees can’t be moved, and the shadows are coming. You know what the Shana Rei will do here.”

  “I know,” Celli said, “but we can’t just abandon them!”

  “We have to,” Solimar said.

  She knew he was right. For so long she had held out hope of finding some kind of desperate solution, and the new dome was being built. She clung to every last moment.

  “If we stay here, then we die with them,” Solimar said.

  Green priests could pour themselves into the worldtrees, link their thoughts and souls with the interconnected verdani mind. At the moment of death, they could flood into the stored thoughts and experiences and achieve a sort of immortality. Celli’s green priest brother Beneto had done it.

  But she was still young, as was Solimar. They had so much of their life ahead of them. “Even if we wanted to leave, we wouldn’t make it out in time,” Celli said in a dull whisper. “We have to stay here.”

  “We have our shuttle,” Solimar said. “If we get to the admin hub or one of the CDF warships, they’ll take us with them.” He swallowed hard again. “If you want to go?”

  “If I want to go…” Celli repeated. “It doesn’t seem right. The trees are trapped here, even if we’re not.”

  As the two shadow clouds bled into the blazing lagoon of Fireheart gases, the worldtrees shuddered again and flexed their bent trunks as if preparing for one last battle.