by DG SIDNA
"Yes, you have to wash. We may be settlers, but we're not heathens."
"What's heathens?"
"Actually, I don't know, but I know that you don't want to be one. Now come along. There's only room for two in our cart, so your daddy and Alloy will have to walk home."
"Alright, bye, Mister Alloy."
"Bye, Miss Tatev."
Now, only a father and his bot remain.
"That girl sure does love her walks, Alloy. Any further and I think you two would have ended up on the other side of the planet."
"She's quite like you were, Mister Jonathan, at that age."
"You remember. I suppose I was like that, wasn't I."
"She's quite perceptive as well. She's aware something is wrong. Something is wrong, isn't it, Mister Jonathan?"
"Maybe. I don't know. We've lost contact with Gravesend on Amleth IV."
"Why, that could be anything, Mister Jonathan. They're a small settlement. Likely they have only a single transmitter. If it went down, they would be unable to communicate. And might I speculate that their repair bots are not as well versed in transmitter mechanics as I am."
“Or farming. Or child rearing. You’re quite the renaissance bot, Alloy.”
"I do my best. Speaking of which, I found your unpublished thesis while cleaning the house. Extraordinary work, if I might say so, Mister Jonathan. Temporal mechanics are one thing my processors could never master."
"You found that? I told Niyanthi to destroy that years and years ago. I should have known she'd squirrel it away somewhere. Well, that was another life, my friend. I prefer my life here. It's simple but meaningful, and I can share it with those I love. You included."
“As an inanimate object, I greatly appreciate the sentiment.”
"I thought you might. Now let's start back or we'll never be home in time for dinner. I also want to check the radio tower and see if there's been any news from Gravesend. The Colonial Federate sent a security frigate to investigate. They should have arrived there by now."
"It's a forty-minute walk, Mister Jonathan. If you're truly concerned, I could intercept any transmissions."
"They'd be encrypted, Alloy."
"Well, as you say, I'm a bot of many trades."
“So not only are you an expert on transmitter repair, but you can function as one as well? Good to know you have hobbies, Alloy. Well, it would technically be illegal, but I suppose this one time wouldn’t hurt.”
“Parsing.”
Here, a pause.
“Mister Jonathan, we should get back to the settlement immediately.”
“What's happened?”
"Gravesend has been destroyed by raiders. The Colonial Federate believe these raiders to now be en route here, to Amleth III."
"Raiders? This far into the frontier? There's nothing to raid."
"That's all the information I have. The Colonial Federate is on their way. We've been asked to arm ourselves and go into hiding until they arrive. They've sent the Virginia Dare. She's the fastest ship in the mandate."
"She's the only ship in the mandate, Alloy. The Colonial Federate has always been spread thin. But it's never mattered before. We're a peaceful colony. Why would these raiders wish to resort to violence? I don't understand. Human society is rich beyond imagination. We've accomplished feats beyond wonder. Why are there still those with so much hate and anger?"
"I can't say, Mister Jonathan. Unfortunately, my algorithms have difficulty engaging in philosophy. I can only give you practical advice. And that advice is that we hurry. I'm detecting activity in the upper atmosphere."
“The Colonial Federate?”
“Impossible to determine from this range."
"Stars have mercy, Alloy. I can see them. Two ships in the sky, locked in combat. Oh, thank goodness, the Virginia Dare has destroyed the raiders."
"Mister Jonathan, it's not over. The raiders sent down dropboxes before the engagement. I'm receiving reports of fighting on the outskirts of the settlement, just ahead."
"Tatev is up there! We have to hurry."
Here, the hurried footsteps of a worried father.
He arrives to a scene of black smoke and fire. Colonial Federate soldiers secure the area.
"Soldier, what happened here?"
"We believe they were after your settlement's power generator. Or perhaps just sport. It's hard to say. This is my first combat engagement, to be honest. But rest assured, the enemy has been neutralized."
"Soldier, your eye is missing. You're bleeding."
"Yes, we encountered several marauders just now. I took a piece of shrapnel in the eye. But don't worry about me. I'm so hyped up on stims I can hardly feel a thing. And the medics will tend to me soon enough, after they tend to your own people."
"So some of our settlers were injured?"
"Yes."
"I must find my family. I didn't see them on the road."
"The road? What's your wife's name, sir?"
"Niyanthi."
"Your name is Jonathan?"
"Yes, how did you know that?"
"Sir, I don't know what to say. She asked for you just before..."
Here, a father runs to the bodies of wife and child, both charred and lifeless. He grieves as he holds the most precious thing to him in the world, a little girl with ribbons in her hair.
"No, this can't be!"
"I'm so sorry, sir."
"I must go back. I must change this."
"That's not possible, sir."
"It is. I can change this."
"Sir, please come with me."
"No, I can change this."
Here, a father rocks on his knees.
"I must change this."
Here, a vow.
"I must go back."
THIRTY-TWO
I recognize immediately where Careena has brought us. I've been here once before—the officer's lounge aboard the flagship of the Tegan Navy, the TDF Ark Royal. This was the ship that rescued me my very first day in the future. It would appear that the arc of time has brought me full circle. Those events seem so long ago now. Back then I'd been lost, confused, frightened; a temporal refugee spirited away from her rooftop in Brooklyn and hurled across the very fabric of time and space.
And now? Now that I've survived alien landscapes? Rode across the stars on magnificent ships such as this one? Tasted the colors of ancient Sumer? Now I feel warranted to hold my head a little higher. Ironic as it sounds, in a few short days I've become one of the most experienced time travelers in all of mortal history. The question still remains—will it be enough to save the universe?
The lounge around us is empty, eerily quiet, and dark.
"Where is everyone?" I ask.
There are piles of emergency cots stacked against one wall and boxes of supplies set against another. I have to imagine the scene in the ship's hangars is no different. Likely even the halls are lined with makeshift beds and food goods. Captain Bashir is under no illusions as to the scale of the coming rescue operation. Every inch of the ship will be used to house refugees.
The journey between Tegana and the Valeyard is nineteen days. I'm worried how far along on that course we may already be. If we're too far out, we won't have time to reverse course and be of any use. Once the Red Man takes out the planetary shield, his mercenaries will be able to jump right into Parliament Hill, right onto the footsteps of the Ministry of Temporal Affairs. Soolin had armed guards—I remember two of them were named Grimalkin and Paddock; they were my escorts inside the ministry. But against hundreds of jumpers? They'll stand no chance. Patmos will take the Chronos Imperium within minutes of his arrival.
Careena is whispering to herself. "Three, two, one..."
Alarm sirens blare.
"Hah!" she howls. "I was right on that, weren't I?"
Soldiers appear at two different entryways. All are armed with rifles. They scream, "Hands in the air! Down on your knees!"
We do as told. A few moments later Captain Bashir enters t
he mess. He's exactly as I remember him. Tall, formidable, with the aura of one who has faced a great many trials during a long and storied life. His hair is greying, his beard is crisp, and his iconic eye patch gives his face a seriousness, an intensity.
When he sees who it is that has breached his security, he becomes visibly irritated. "Smith, I thought we got rid of you. Why are you back on my ship?"
"Good to see you too, Hamid."
He's not finished. He looks at a scanner an officer is showing him, then barks, "And did you bring a Khelt aboard a Defense Ministry ship? Is that young lady there a Khelt?"
"What, her? No, never mind her. Just an unfortunate medical condition is all. We have more pressing matters to attend to."
Bashir has little patience. "You mean like the fact that you shot up the Ministry of Temporal Affairs? Yes, I heard about that. Or how about the fact that I have reports you were on the Valeyard when their dome was breached? I'd call that damned suspicious."
"Well, I'd call it libel," the old woman counters.
The captain orders his men and women to stand down their weapons. I breathe a little easier once they do.
"The three of you might as well get up," he tells us. "You should know, however, that your portreeve has given us orders to shoot you on sight, Smith. And I'm seriously considering it."
He beckons for the three of us to follow him down a hallway. A holographic officer walks beside him. She's a projection—I'm getting better at recognizing those now, but there's still something... different about her. I can't quite put my finger on it.
Bashir turns to Careena. "So what's this all about, Smith? What really happened on the Valeyard? It's a damned humanitarian nightmare over there, you know."
"Has the fleet already left then?" she asks with worry.
"Of course they left," he says. "Most of them left early yesterday. We've also enlisted every passenger ship that could be found. I saw the reports this morning. Hundreds of those towers have faulty ventilation systems. Four thousand people have already died from asphyxiation, but as many a million more are in immediate danger. Their oxygen could go at any moment. Our corps of engineers haven't surveyed the damage yet, but rumors are the entire city will need evacuated. Sixty-four million people. There are not enough ships in the entire mandate for that. We'll be making runs back and forth for months."
"And, Hamid," Careena asks lightly. "If I might be so bold as to inquire, are we with the rest of the fleet?"
"Funny you should ask that." The way he phrases this tells me he doesn't think it's funny at all. "As the flagship, we're supposed to be heading the rescue efforts. Yet we haven't even been able to leave the Tegan System. I had to put Admiral Pertwee aboard the Hayashi. A damned embarrassment."
"Most unfortunate," the old woman agrees.
"Aye," the captain says. He pulls a pair of rather familiar-looking pliers from his pocket. "Somehow these fell into our Reginald Drive. Blasted things tore a hole in the Preon-sheath when we fired up the engines. I've given the Engineering crew a good dressing down for their carelessness. The damage took three days to repair."
An insurance policy. Careena, that clever hellion.
The old woman snatches the pliers from the captain's hand. "Curious. I'll be sure to look into these for you. But believe it or not, it may have been a good thing."
"How could the crippling of my ship be a good thing?" the captain asks with suspicion.
"Well, you see," she starts. "I rather sort of need to commandeer your ship. We have to return to Tegana immediately."
"We're not a damned limo service, Smith. Besides, I'm fairly certain your authority was revoked when they gave me orders to shoot you."
Careena is serious. "The Valeyard is a diversion, Hamid. They're going after Tegana."
The captain stares at her with his one good eye. "Nonsense. How could they? There's not a single ship unaccounted for this side of the mandate."
"They're not coming by ship."
"Jumpers?"
"Yes."
He dismisses the threat. "Then it's a police matter. Let the constables handle it. This is a navy ship."
Careena stands her ground. "They have three hundred jumpvests, Hamid. And I've seen some of these forkers. They're ex-military, well-trained. You and I both know the constables spend all day giving directions to Cawdorian and Mahshadi tourists. I'd be surprised if many of them even know which end of a gun fires the bloody bullets."
He's still not buying it. "Three hundred jumpers, Smith? There's not enough RGMs out there for that many vests. Military Intelligence says we'll never see more than four jumpers in any given year."
"That's always been true," Careena agrees. "Until the heist aboard the Stellar Pearl."
He pauses. He knows he shouldn't believe her, but it's clear he's been suspicious about that heist ever since the day it happened. And not only because the infamous Red Man was involved—but because, despite even his high-level security clearance, he was never informed the contents of the stolen cargo. Only now does he finally have a grasp on the magnitude of what happened that day.
He turns to us. "Alright, let's say I believe you. Tegana is protected by a tachyonic shield. No one can jump in."
"They've got a way to blow it," she tells him. "They're just waiting for the fleet to move off so you won't be able to respond in time. I dare say, if it weren't for your mysterious, little engine problem, they'd likely have already attacked by now."
"Are you sure about this?"
"I am."
The decision weighs heavily on him. "Then there's something you should know. I received a report this morning of a prison break at a high security facility on Iskender Bay. Iskender is six years away in the Prizren Mandate, so ordinarily, I wouldn't even give it a second thought. But something caught my eye. The break was orchestrated with the aid of three jumpers. That should have been impossible. Like everywhere these days, the prison is protected by a tachyonic shield. Yet somehow, they were able to bring down the shield and jump in. No one knows how they did it. But it would seem that you do."
Bashir turns to the female holographic officer. "Abi, show me that report on Iskender Bay again."
She hands him a small tablet, which he quickly skims.
Careena, meanwhile, is lost in thought. She's second-guessing herself. She was positive the Red Man was going to use the time-shot device against Tegana, but it appears he's used it against this prison world instead. Was that what this was all about?
A jail break?
Bashir asks, "How many vests did you say they have?"
"I destroyed a few," Careena tells him. "But they could still have as many as three hundred."
The captain rubs his beard.
His jaw is tight.
"What is it, Hamid?"
"You say they have three hundred vests, but these recent updates say no one has left the planet yet. The prison is on an island, surrounded by a toxic ocean. Nearly a thousand prisoners have fled into the jungles, but they all have trackers. The local authorities will have no problem picking them up soon. So if what you say is true, why are they still there? Why haven't they jumped to freedom?"
"Because they can't," I blurt out.
Everyone turns to me.
"Not yet, anyway." I try my best to explain, despite the pressure I suddenly feel from so many sets of eyes. "Think about it. The Red Man has a few loyal soldiers at his side, but I'm willing to bet he doesn't have enough for an invasion force. And he believes he's going to need one to get Patmos into the Chronos Imperium. So where does one recruit several hundred mercenaries on short notice?"
"From the prison," Careena says.
"Exactly. He's probably promised them freedom in exchange for this mission. He probably even told them that if they help him, they can keep their jumpvests afterward. Basically, he's promised them the power of the gods. They'll do anything for him now. But he's lying. The Tinker told us most of those vests are good for only a single jump. That's how they were able to
produce so many. The prisoners don't know it, but once they jump, that's it, their vests are useless after that."
I can tell Careena is impressed.
Captain Bashir nods knowingly as well. "So if you're right, they'll have to jump from Iskender Bay directly into New Harmony. Which means they must have a second explosive device ready to take out Tegana's shield."
"That's right. They're just waiting for you and the Tegan Navy to get out of the way, sir."
He's as serious as stone. "Well then, Miss Mendelssohn, let's not do that for them." He turns back to the female officer. "Abi, full reverse. Yellow alert. Prep the dropboxes for a planetary incursion. Notify TDF Command of possible inbound hostiles. We haven't much time."
I ask Careena, "If they blow the shield, what stops them from just jumping directly into the Chronos Imperium?"
"There's a secondary shield around Parliament Hill," she tells us. "Soolin had it installed ages ago. As far as I know, only two or three people know where the generator is. And I ain't one of them."
"But Patmos might know," I worry. "His mole was good."
"He doesn't know," she assures me.
"How can you be sure?"
It's Bashir who answers. "Because if he did, Miss Mendelssohn, he wouldn't need to jailbreak a small army to take the building. Smith, how far out does this second shield extend?"
"I'm not sure exactly. The generator is small. Rumor is it's a prototype being designed to one day protect ships in space. My guess is it can't cover a radius of more than a few dozen blocks, give or take. Still, it should give us some breathing room. The Red Man will have to jump in at the perimeter of the field and fight his way in."
"And surely your planet has ground forces," Rhoda asks.
Again the captain answers, "We do. We maintain a very small, but effective, defense force. Unfortunately, our troops are currently on Great Southern setting up camps for when the refugees arrive. It's a beautiful continent, and we've decided that it's there's if they want it. We're certainly not going to force anyone to return to that Valeyard hellhole. The problem is any ship that could ferry our soldiers back to New Harmony was commandeered for the evacuation efforts. The Ark Royal is all that there is."
I ask with worry, "And you have soldiers aboard?"
