by Ralph Prince
A tear welled in the corner of his eye as he gazed down at her. When he first brought her aboard the Nova, she seemed so weak and helpless. Since then, he had discovered she had another side. She was strong and brave in the face of death, where he stood feeling weak and helpless. He forced a feeble smile, and caressed her soft hair.
“I told you,” he said, choking over the words, “we’re not going to die. I learned, long ago, there are always options. I just haven’t found the right one yet.”
“I admire your optimism,” Iva said, “but the facts remain. There is a massive ball of ice on a collision course with this planet, and we have no means of averting it. We could leave, but the Overseer instructed us to leave Karen behind. I’m sure you wouldn’t do that, and it wouldn’t be wise to go against the Overseer’s wishes by taking her with us. I’m afraid, in this case, our options are severely limited. We either leave, and let a planet die; or, we stay and die with it.”
“Ball of ice,” Don repeated thoughtfully, looking down at the fragmented ice cubes, melting on the deck. “Assuming we shut everything down and idle the engines to charge the cells through the night; how long will it be before the ship batteries are fully recharged?”
“Perhaps fifteen to twenty hours,” Iva replied. “That is if another storm doesn’t obscure the sun in the morning. I don’t see why you are so concerned with these calculations; in less than nine hours the comet will be too close for us to divert, even at full power.”
“How long do we have before it enters the atmosphere?” Don pressed, ignoring her comment.
“Just under thirty-five hours,” she replied. “Haven’t you been listening to me? There isn’t enough time to divert the comet.”
“I know,” Don said, an idea taking shape in his mind. It was dangerous, and had never actually been attempted before, but it could work. The result, even if successful, would ruin any chance they had of ever leaving. But the alternative was letting the planet die, and letting Karen die.
He stood suddenly, drawing Karen to her feet. His eyebrows drew together in thought, and an ominous gleam came to his eyes. “Iva,” he ordered, “tell Jackie and Will to report here on the double, then cut to minimal power and start the photon engines. I want this ship at full power in twenty hours, not a second more.”
“But Captain—” Iva protested.
“I know,” Don interrupted. “We can’t deflect the comet. Another thing I learned long ago is that our potential is limited only by our creativity. Up until now, I thought deflecting the comet was the only way to save the planet. I was wrong. We aren’t going to deflect it; we’re going to blow it up.”
“But that would take a great deal of power, or an explosion of great magnitude,” Iva said. “We don’t have that kind of—” she broke off suddenly. “Oh no! You’re not serious, are you? It would be madness even to attempt such a thing.”
“It worked in the simulation,” Don replied, “didn’t it?”
CHAPTER 16: Who Watches the Watchmen?
They gathered on the bridge in the dim red luminance of the emergency lights. Each of the four sat patiently while Iva analyzed her collected data.
“I estimate an eighty-nine percent chance of successfully breaking the comet into fragments, thereby averting global extinction,” she reported after a prolonged silence. “However, I also estimate a seventy-three percent chance of the ship being destroyed in the process. Your plan is both feasible and suicidal.”
“Well, that’s a twenty-seven percent chance of survival,” Don said, rising from his chair and looking at Karen, Jackie, and Will in succession. “I can’t order any of you to accompany me on this mission. In fact, I would rather you didn’t.”
“Sir,” interjected Iva, “the chance of survival only applies to the initial blast. The ship would undoubtedly sustain damage in any event, and such damage would likely render it unlandable. The chances of returning to the surface alive are somewhat less than one percent.”
“Count me in,” Jackie said. “I’ve been your friend too long to let you do this alone.”
“Me too,” Will added. “I would rather take my chances up there with you than be left alone on this godforsaken planet.”
Don nodded in acknowledgment, respecting the loyalty of his crew. Glancing down upon Karen, he saw the unspoken answer in her eyes. If need be, she would follow him to the depths of hell.
“Okay then,” he said. “Karen and Jackie, you two go to the city and recruit some people to help haul supplies back to the caves. We’ll take everything we can: cargo from the hold, the fabricator, ship stores, the auto cook, anything else we can think of. We also need to get the surviving Tants into the shelter; it’ll be safer down there than on the surface. Put Stanton and the Tants that helped us on that. Will and I will start disconnecting anything useful and taking it outside. If we don’t survive, the Underdwellers will have more use for it than we will. We can work through the night and rest in the shelter tomorrow; with the temperature regulators off, it’ll be cooler there. We’ll leave at fifteen hundred hours tomorrow. Any questions?”
“I have a question,” Iva said; or, more precisely, Iva’s voice said. It continued in the deeper resonating tone of the Overseer as her avatar morphed into the dark cowled wraith-like form. “Your ship has been repaired so you may leave. Why then do you insist upon trying to save this doomed planet?”
“Iva?” Will asked, staring in confusion at the holographic image.
“No,” Don said. “It’s the Overseer.”
“Captain Garris,” it continued. “I thought I had made it clear you were to leave this planet as soon as possible. The comet bearing down upon this world was meant to exterminate the residual life forms; it was not intended to harm you or your crew.”
“Residual life forms?” Don repeated angrily. “Those are people out there, not bacteria.”
“To me, they are as primitive and insignificant as the bacterium,” the Overseer replied, “just as you are at your present stage of evolution. These ‘people’ are no longer of any interest to me or my kind.”
“Then why destroy them if you don’t care?” Jackie asked, outraged by the being’s attitude toward life.
“As I said, they are of no interest to me, Lieutenant Monet,” it responded emotionlessly. “Their planet, however, is. Reconditioning it would be far simpler than building a new one elsewhere. Planetary engineering is a slow and tedious process at best.”
“Why do you need this planet?” Don demanded. “Why do you need any planet? You claim to be pure intellect, so surely you don’t need specific environmental conditions to survive.”
“Correct, I don’t,” confirmed the Overseer. “However, my experiments do. I am what your limited intelligence would call a scientist. My kind has traversed the multiverse from end to end, planting the seeds of life and watching them grow. We have advanced beyond your ability to comprehend. Your life spans are but fleeting moments in our eyes, as we live to be older than the stars or even entire galaxies. We have become what you once regarded as gods.
“Do not mourn for the lives lost here,” it continued, “they will be replaced in time. We have discovered in our studies that once a culture reaches this stage, it inevitably dies out. I am simply saving them from a slow agonizing death, and in the process, setting the stage for a new experiment.”
“Is that all that life is to you?” Don asked furiously. “An experiment? What kind of creatures are you? What do these ‘experiments’ prove? Or are they just a morbid form of entertainment to you?”
“Please calm yourself,” urged the Overseer. “We have learned a great deal from our tests. We have found that we live in a fractal multiverse. It repeats over and over in a specific, predictable pattern; at least to a point. Each planet we seed, for instance, develops life nearly identically to its parent. It’s as though the world’s destiny is written in the RNA we drop into the primordial soup. They form similar cultures, languages, religions, and political systems; even the names
of key personages are virtually the same. However, only a small percentage of the subjects reach maturity. Most end up destroying themselves at a critical point in their development. That is what occurred on this planet. At this point of no return, the principle life forms either survive and eventually mature, or take an irrevocable step toward self-destruction. Even the Overseers cannot predict which path a specimen will take until it passes that point. That is the reason we experiment; to find the unknown determining factor.”
“But we’ve given this planet a second chance at life,” Don protested. “We’ve brought the Underdwellers and the remaining Tants together.”
“Moreover,” Jackie added, “after analyzing the nanites in Don’s blood, I’m certain that by introducing them into the Tants, they will correct their deformities in time. The Tants and Underdwellers will be indistinguishable from one another.”
“We’ve found everything we need to recondition the surface for miles around and make it habitable again,” Don said, continuing to present his case. “We can offer guidance to the inhabitants, and teach them how to survive and advance. Don’t they deserve a second chance at maturity?”
“They would not have resolved their differences without your interference,” insisted the Overseer. “Had you left them to their own devices, they would have exterminated one other in time. You are an impurity in the culture dish, a malignant virus. Perhaps it would be best to exterminate you as well, to prevent you from infecting other experiments in the area.”
“No!” Don shouted, his voice echoing through the bridge. “Don’t think of us as a virus. Think of us as an unknown factor, perhaps even an antibody. How many of your experiments have returned from near extinction to reach maturity?”
“None,” replied the Overseer. “As I said, they either die or mature.”
“This could be the first,” Don said, the challenge unmistakable in his tone. “You’re prepared to throw away a once in a lifetime, your lifetime, opportunity so you can conduct an experiment you know will have one of two results. You’re right. You’re a scientist, cold and dispassionate. You plant the seeds of life, let them germinate, watch them grow, then let them die. You never even try to save them. You have no more compassion than the Tants had. At least some of them eventually saw the errors in their ways. You think of yourself as a god. What good is a god without compassion?
“Before you destroy this planet, you better consider long and hard the possibility that this isn’t about them; maybe it’s part of the plan. Think about it. What are the chances we would travel this far through space and time, and our first stop should happen to be here and now? Astronomical! But, if a higher power snatched us and dropped us into your little experiment to see how you would react as part of a test...” Don paused, shaking his head. “Maybe it isn’t the Underdwellers and the Tants under the microscope here. Maybe it’s you. Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? If the multiverse is truly fractal, where are the Overseers that were watching you before you matured? Are they still watching you to see how you fare at a critical stage in your evolution? Are you arrogant enough to believe yours is the first and only race to reach maturity? Are you willing to take that chance? I’m not sure I would.”
Silence washed over the bridge as everyone awaited the Overseer’s retort. Several moments passed before any of the four even moved.
“What plan?” Jackie finally whispered.
“Never mind,” Don whispered back, not sure he should tell her about the discussion he had with her dead brother in a fever-induced dream. “It was something a friend told me once.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she said. “I don’t think you want to make that thing angry.”
Don’s stare shifted from the motionless Overseer hologram to Karen, who sat in the copilot’s chair, wide-eyed with fear. He placed a reassuring hand upon her shoulder.
“Your point was well made, captain,” Iva complimented, as her image reverted to her human form. “The Overseer accepts your challenge. If you can prevent the planet’s destruction, he will allow it to progress in a natural manner until all the indigenous life forms have become extinct. He also warned that if you ever attempt to influence the cultures of other worlds, he would personally put an end to your existence. If I may say so, he seemed to be pissed off at you.”
“What are you people waiting for?” Don asked, obviously pleased with himself. “We’ve got a planet to save.”
CHAPTER 17: Solo Mission
Don’s footsteps echoed loudly through the central corridor as he passed his quarters. The air was warm and stifling, offering little comfort from the arid heat outside the ship. Despite not wearing his goggles, his eyes had quickly adjusted from the bright sunlight to the dim radiance of the emergency lights; a benefit of the nanites he shared with the Underdweller population. Everything was silent and dark on the bridge; even the instrument panel lights had been shut off to conserve power. He felt a chill run up his spine, as he had long ago, upon reading a graphic description of an ancient tomb in one of his books. Never before had the Nova felt so empty and alien to him; it was like returning home and finding everything had changed in his absence.
“Iva,” he said, his voice sounding thunderous in the silence, though it had been little more than a whisper.
The tactical console remained dark and silent.
“Iva,” he repeated, tapping on the station’s audio sensor. “Wake up.”
“What?” Iva asked, as the control panel flared to life and her head appeared above the holo-emitter. “Captain, I didn’t expect you for another two hours.”
“Sorry about waking you,” Don apologized, wondering if the agent had been dreaming, “but we’ve got work to do if the power cells are recharged.”
“All cells are at maximum energy levels,” reported Iva. “Where is the rest of the crew? It was my understanding all of you were going, including Karen.”
“There’s been a change in the plan,” Don said, taking a seat at his station. “I’ve decided to go alone, in case something goes wrong. There’s no sense in all of us dying.”
“There is no need for anyone to die,” Iva said as she appeared in the co-pilot’s seat. “I am capable of flying the ship and ejecting the antimatter pod. If I may say so, I am more capable than you are in both regards. Furthermore, being nothing more than a virtual agent, I am more expendable than you.”
“You’re not just an agent,” Don said, “you’re one of the crew. You’re a sentient being, not a simple AI. As such, I can’t expect you to do something I wouldn’t do myself.”
“I am deeply touched,” said Iva, “but I freely volunteer my services for this mission. I am the logical choice by virtue of my conditioning. My primary duty is to ensure the safety and well-being of you and the crew.”
“No, Iva,” Don insisted. “I am the captain of this ship, and I will not stand by and watch while one of my crew risks their life to save mine. I’ve already lost one friend that way; I won’t lose another.”
“Friend?” repeated Iva. “I am honored. I have admired and respected you as both an officer and as a human being. Your friendship means much to me.”
“You have a higher opinion of me than I deserve,” Don laughed, making a final check of the instrument readings. “Let’s get this over with before the others miss me.”
“Am I to understand you did not tell the others you were coming here?” Iva inquired, a puzzled expression crossing her face. “You told them all of us were going.”
“I lied,” Don stated. “Sometimes you have to lie to protect your friends. It’s better this way.”
“I understand,” Iva said, storing the information away for future reference. “I’m ready to engage the photon engines on your command, sir.”
Don paused as his thoughts shifted to Karen; he knew the chances of ever seeing her again were slim. He considered Iva’s offer to undergo the mission alone, but his sense of duty was too strong to allow one of his crew to die in his place. He couldn�
�t stand the guilt of that happening again.
“Nothing you do will be of any consequence,” a voice said from behind him. The words were those of the Overseer, but the voice belonged to someone else.
Spinning his chair around, Don came face-to-face with young Victor. The boy stood with his arms folded across his chest, and an expression of disgust on his soiled face.
“Don’t act so surprised, Captain Garris,” the boy said. “I told you I’ve been watching you since your arrival. Once you left the ship, your agent was no longer available to me, so I was forced to inhabit this shell in order to watch you more closely.”
“It’s not possible,” Don said, scarcely believing his ears. He rose from his chair to stand before the boy.
“Ah, but it is,” disputed the Overseer. “I wanted to remain inconspicuous, and what could be more innocent than a child? Fortunately, the physiological mutations of this specimen made it possible for me to inhabit its mind without damaging it. Your agent nearly detected me on several different occasions.”
“Iva,” Don ordered, “report.”
“The energy reading is incredible,” Iva confirmed, standing beside the captain, and studying the child intently. “This is the Overseer.”
“You still have time to leave this planet,” the Overseer said. “Your ship could sustain you and your crew for the remainder of your natural lives. You need not die here.”
“What kind of life would that be?” Don asked angrily. “There would be no people, no sunlight, no—”
“No Karen?” queried the Overseer. “She means that much to you, doesn’t she? You would rather face certain death than to live without her. Very well, I will make you one last offer. Leave this planet, and I will allow you to take the woman with you.”
“No deal,” Don said. “You may not care what happens to the people here, but I do. I’m going to save this world, or die in the attempt. So, get the hell off my ship.”
