The Lazarus Particle

by Logan Thomas Snyder

  “I suppose it does,” Pruitt agreed. Privately, he could not have been more pleased with the outcome.

  “Very well, then.” Orth nodded once. The matter was closed. The station and all those they had lost had been avenged. “Lieutenant, chart a course back to our previous position.”

  “The uninhabited planet, sir?”

  “The very same. It should be more than adequate as a base of operations while we lick our wounds and plot our next course of action.”

  Even as they jumped away, the screams of the Tyroshi echoed in the ears of those who heard them last for a very, very long time.

  48 • THRESHOLD

  Alone.

  Adrift.

  Awake.

  With a mighty gasp, Ohana opened her eyes. She grasped instinctively for anything solid, anything she might find purchase upon. Only then did she realize to her great relief and horror that she’d been left for dead in empty space. Relief that she had somehow managed to pull her ejection lever and fire out of the cockpit just before that fiery chunk of wing decapitated her Banshee. Horror that after all that, she was doomed to die a slow, asphyxiated death. Forgotten. Just another casualty of a war she’d never had a horse in. And why? Because she’d fallen in love with a damn flyboy.

  Dell…

  Sweet, wonderful Dell. She hoped he was okay. That he was alive and could find it in himself to love again. She wasn’t so great, after all. Just another screw-up pilot who couldn’t hit the sweet spot. He could do better.

  She wondered belatedly if the Irregulars were winning the battle. It was hard to tell what was happening from so far away. She tried to focus in, but eventually gave up. One side was pummeling the other, the other was pummeling them back.

  What a pointless waste it all was.

  She decided if she had to die today, she didn’t want to watch hundreds upon thousands more dying at the same time. It wasn’t easy, but with a little bit of effort she managed to gather enough inertia to twist herself awkwardly in the other direction.

  “Oh my dear holy fuck,” she whispered as she beheld the black hole blooming behind the Tyroshi fleet. “Oh fuck. Oh-fuck-oh-fuck-oh-fuck…” She had never seen anything capable of inspiring so much awe and terror. She tried instinctively to swim against the gravitational force but found no purchase with her limbs. This wasn’t a fluid surface she could propel herself through manually. This was cold, pitiless space.

  Suddenly she remembered the emergency locator beacon built into her suit. She slapped at it desperately. Almost immediately she regretted it. The voice that answered her distress call was the last possible one she wanted to hear.

  “Ohana?” Dell whispered furtively. Then, more desperately, “Ohana! Oh god, Ohana, please tell me you’re still alive, please, please, please…”

  Ohana shut her eyes against the tears that came when she heard his voice. Seconds ticked by as he pleaded for a response. She tried so very hard not to answer, but the pain in his voice wouldn’t allow it. She couldn’t go to her grave knowing she hadn’t told him what needed to be said when she had the chance. “I’m here, Dell. It’s me.”

  She heard him choke back a relieved laugh. Ohana cringed. As usual, she knew what he was about to say even before he did.

  “Hold tight. I’m coming to get you.”

  “No!” she barked, all but ordering him. “No, no, no! That is not an option.”

  “It’s not up for debate, either.”

  “Dell, there is a black hole devouring the Tyroshi fleet and who knows what else, probably me included in a few minutes. Get out of here! Forget about me!”

  “Not a chance.”

  “You—damn you!” she snapped. “You’re insane!”

  “I will not leave you behind,” he snapped back. Then, a degree softer, “You didn’t leave me. You didn’t even know me.”

  “Dell—”

  “Shut up and let me fly!”

  “How about you shut up and let me tell you I love you, too!” She winced as the words tumbled out of her mouth. She hadn’t wanted to say it like that, but it was out there now. No unringing that bell. When he didn’t respond, it took all she had to keep her voice from cracking. “Because I do, Dell. You were right. I love you. I don’t know how or when it happened, but I love you so damn much. I was coming back to tell you when all this started. But now I’m about to die and there is nothing, repeat, nothing you can do about that. Please, please, please just turn back. There’s no reason for you to sacrifice yourself when I’m as good as dead already.”

  “I refuse to accept that.”

  Of course he did. She smiled sadly, letting the tears have their way. “Hey, I’ll never forget the time we spent together, flyboy. You made me feel more alive than I ever have before. I’ll make sure to send you a postcard from the other side.”

  “Listen,” he said, oblivious to her heartfelt outpourings, “I’m going to deploy my tow cable.”

  “Dell, stop.”

  “We’re probably only going to get one shot at this, so you need to be ready.”

  “Damnit, Dell, get out of here!”

  “Ohana! I am not leaving you. I will never leave you. Do you read me? Whatever happens, it happens to both of us.”

  Ohana felt a shiver climb up her spine and through her limbs. He actually thought he had a legitimate shot at saving her. More importantly, he was apparently that dedicated to her. She believed it one-hundred percent now, body and soul. Commander, friend, lover—whatever role he was playing, he was determined to see it through, even to the end of both of them if that’s what it took. “Okay,” she said after hearing the conviction in his voice. “Whatever you say.”

  “Damn right, whatever I say.” She heard him take a deep breath before continuing. “In about thirty seconds, I’m going to throttle down hard and fire the cable. Grab on when it comes your way and we’ll go from there.”

  “You’re insane. Absolutely out of your mind.” Still, Ohana couldn’t deny the will to live his conviction had fired within her.

  “That’s a conversation for another time. Are you ready?”

  “Ready. Just try not to put it through me, okay? I like the way my insides are arranged just fine, thanks.”

  “Alright. Here we go.”

  Ohana watched as he approached, growing from a distant pinpoint to a frighteningly large fractal wedge homing in on her. About a quarter of a klick out, he banked hard and fired the Banshee’s tow cable. It wasn’t exactly designed for snagging wayward pilots, but it made for a pretty sizable target nonetheless. Even so, she just barely caught the heavy steel braided cable as it lanced by her. She quickly doubled up on her grip. Shimmying further up the cable, she wrapped her arms and legs around it. She clung to it desperately. Her breath was coming so hard and fast she thought she might use up all her remaining oxygen right then and there. Death by irony. How fitting.

  “You with me?” Dell asked. His voice dripped with desperation in her ear.

  “H-here,” she stammered, a little annoyed by the sudden querulousness of her own voice. “I’m here.”

  “Alright, I’m going to winch you in. Just say when.”

  The winch motor began drawing her in toward Dell’s Banshee. The sudden jerking motion nearly wrenched the tow cable right out of her hands. She tightened her grip, determined not to lose hold of what was quite literally her lifeline. She was tempted to shut her eyes and pray but fought against the instinct with every fiber of her being. If she didn’t tell Dell exactly when to cut the winch motor, the tow cable would slam her against the belly of his fighter. Probably she would lose consciousness in that event, and then there really would be nothing Dell could do before the black hole consumed every last bit of matter in the system—including her.

  There was no precedent for what they were doing, no way for Ohana to gauge when to tell Dell to kill the winch motor. Even under the best of circumstances, the timing would have been strictly guesswork. It was an unnerving feeling, knowing her life hinged upon a b
est-guess scenario.

  Unnerving? Who was she kidding? She had never been so terrified in all her life.

  “Now!” she all but screamed when the moment felt right. “Now, Dell, now!”

  For a split second she thought she had misjudged the distance. She was coming in too hot! She snapped her eyes shut and braced for the force of the impending impact.

  The winch motor suddenly spun down, locking into place. Ohana dared to peek out of one eye. The diminishing momentum carried her right up against the hull of Dell’s Banshee, jostling her ever so softly.

  “It worked!” she cried. Dell’s harebrained, cockamamy scheme had actually worked! Ohana laughed so loudly at the realization it startled even herself. “It worked! I can’t believe it worked!”

  “We’re not out of the woods yet,” Dell answered tersely. “Hold on tight!”

  Gunning his engines, Dell hurtled them forward through space. Not a moment too soon, either. Ohana snatched a fleeting glimpse as the last of the Tyroshi fleet was consumed by the massive void, pulled into God only knew what, if anything, existed beyond their own understanding of time and space and the universe. After that it was all she could do to hold on as the force and thrust of their retreat threatened to tear her limb from limb. The vibration throttling her bodily violently, Ohana gritted her teeth and clung to the belly of Dell’s Banshee like a remora on a shark. The thought might have made her laugh if she weren’t so focused on not being yanked from the tow cable and swallowed up into some bizarre parallel hellscape.

  “Almost there.”

  It was too much. Too exhausting. The strain on her muscles, her body, her everything was just too much. She felt her fingers start to slip from the cable. “I’m sorry, Dell,” she said weakly.

  “No! Do not let go of that cable, damnit! That is an order, Wingman Cassel! Do. Not. Let. Go.”

  An order. If there was one thing Morgenthau-Hale was good at other than engine tech, it was instilling their people with a healthy respect for the chain of command. She would never defy an order. Her muscles responded instinctively. She held on in spite of every other feeling in her body screaming at her to let go and be at peace.

  “Thirty seconds out! Deploying landing struts! C’mon, Ohana, please hang in there just a little longer.”

  “I will,” she groaned with what little reserve of strength she had left before blacking out.

  The next thing Ohana knew, she was gasping desperately for breath. A cluster of blurry, indistinct faces hovered over her. The first to come into focus for her was Dell’s.

  “Back! Everybody back!” he yelled behind him, waving the gathered crowd of pilots and deck rats away. “Give her some air!”

  She was flat on her back on Liberator’s flight deck, she realized. “We’re okay?” she wheezed, still getting her bearings. “We made it?”

  Dell looked back to her, nodding vigorously. “We’re okay,” he confirmed. “We made it.”

  “We’re okay. We made it.” She laughed, a slow, hiccuping sound of disbelief as Dell leaned in close, touching his forehead to hers. “You crazy son of a bitch.” She slapped at his shoulder lamely. “You crazy, demented, lunatic son of a bitch—”

  The deck pitched and yawed beneath her feet as Dell pulled her upright without warning. “Hey, c’mon now, don’t sell yourself short. I seem to recall hearing about a crazy stunt you pulled to save some half-dead idiot flyboy from the ink not too long ago.”

  “I guess both our methods have their merits.” Leaning into him gratefully, she slapped him with one of those famous tomboy grins. “‘Flyboy.’ I should probably stop calling you that now that we’re even, huh?”

  “I don’t know. I kind of like it, actually.”

  He might have said more if she allowed it. Instead, she grasped him by the collar of his flight suit, pulling him into a passionate, life-affirming kiss.

  “Oh, get a room already!” Alexia teased as she came shuffling onto the scene with some assistance from Torrey. Even with a patch of bloody gauze on her thigh, she was grinning ear to ear. “You two are going to touch off a baby boom if you keep carrying on like that.”

  Dell just grinned back, the resemblance between them uncanny in that moment. “Can’t help it, sis. We’re crazy about each other.”

  Torrey rolled his eyes. “Finally worked all that out, eh?”

  Ohana shrugged, smiling over at him. “Yeah, well, it took me a while to come around, but Dell had it right all along. We are what we are. We belong together.”

  A throaty shout of “Commandant on deck!” brought all activity to an abrupt halt. To a man and woman, everyone on deck stood at rigid attention.

  Commandant Soroya and Marshal Harm strode forward. Their path took them straight into the nucleus of the gathered ranks. With her husband’s help, she mounted the wing of Dell’s Banshee, giving her a commanding view of the entire deck. Marshal Harm joined her a moment later. The look on his face said it all, but the gathered masses still waited to hear it from their beloved commandant.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” she began, “my comrades in arms.” She paused, taking their measure before announcing, “The Morgenthau-Hale fleet has fled and the Tyroshi are no more.” She thrust her fist high above her head. “The fight is ours! We have carried the day!”

  The deck erupted in an almost titanic swell of cheers and celebration. The four of them embraced each other fiercely, a new family born of battle and blood. Many a belly laugh were shared and bittersweet tear shed in that moment. They had all lost so much, but just to still be together after everything they had been through was a gift unto itself.

  The piercing wail of a klaxon sounded through the landing bay, shaking them all visibly.

  “Clear the deck!” one of the deck rats bellowed. Two more hustled forward, waving everyone out of the way. “Shuttle inbound! Shuttle inbound!”

  The crowd of pilots, officers, and deck rats scuttled back, opening up a large section of the central landing bay for the incoming shuttle. The pilot raced down the ramp after touching down. “I need a medic here!” he shouted. In his arms he carried the naked, emaciated body of Fenton Wilkes beneath a swaddling of coppery thermal blankets.

  The pilot laid Fenton upon the deck for the approaching medics. He was so pale as to be virtually translucent. His whole circulatory system and vital organs were visible beneath the waxy pallor of his flesh. His hair, his skin, even his eyes—everything was bleach white. To all appearances he was dead on arrival. The medics said the same after a cursory examination.

  Roon arrived just then, pushing through the crowd to kneel at his side. “Oh, Fenton,” she mewled. She lifted his hand, holding it against her cheek. “Fenton, Fenton, Fenton…”

  Fenton’s eyelids flipped open. For a moment, the color returned to his eyes. Several of those who witnessed the scene gasped and recoiled in surprise. Not Roon. She held his hand close to her cheek and smiled.

  “Roon,” he said, his voice thin as tissue paper. “I saw it all, Roon. The other side. Everything I’ve ever wanted to see. It was so beautiful, so complex. And so, so terrifying.” The color drained from his eyes once more. With it went what little light was left within them. “You’ll see. Soon you’ll all see.”

  When he spoke again, it was barely above a whisper.

  “Please,” he rasped mournfully. “Forgive me.”

  EPILOGUE I

  The reading of the names took over two days.

  By an act of poignant serendipity, Fenton’s was the final one to be called.

  Afterward, a small contingent of friends and those he would have considered family excused themselves from the main service to privately lay the man to rest.

  They chose a site on Shih’ra beneath what was already a massive, flowering lasaka tree overlooking a wide, grassy prairie. It seemed a fitting spot. The elegant symmetry of the lasakas’ many braided branches had appealed to Fenton. The way the wind shook the grasses gave the place a sense of life everlasting. As Roon mounted the small
dais before the base of the tree, one of those same winds rolled up and through the branches above, shaking loose a soft rain of silvery pink flower petals upon the mourners gathered below.

  Roon paused to look up as the first of the silky petals spun lazy, pinwheeling circles on the way to the dais. Breathing deeply of the passing breeze, she mouthed, “Thank you.”

  She was the picture of poise and grace as she began her eulogy. She spoke strongly, lovingly, her voice never so much as faltering or cracking.

  “We have gathered here today to say goodbye to our friend and brother, Major Fenton James Wilkes,” she began. “Fenton and I began our journey as strangers; together, we ended it a union of souls. I’ll always cherish the time I spent with Fenton. I think all of us who knew him will. He proved that one man can make a difference, so long as that one man is brave enough to pursue the courage of his convictions. In that way he challenged us not as people, but as individuals, to do better, to be better. He genuinely abhorred the loss of life in any form, just as we here abhor the loss of his. Yet, like him, we will use that loss not to fuel our enmity toward those with whom we do not agree or understand. Like him, we will use it to light the path toward his vision of peace and reclamation for all.

  “Thank you all for coming. Your presence here means the world, literally this world, to me.” Out of respect, she bowed her head for a moment of silence.

  As they began to break camp, Dell stood up on impulse. “My name is Wing Commander Dell DeCoud, Red Wing, Liberator. I owe my life and every happiness I have to Major Wilkes. He was a great man and an even better friend. I’ll never forget him.”

  “Wingman First Class Ohana Cassel, Red Wing, Liberator. I didn’t know Fenton—excuse me, Major Wilkes—all that well, and we certainly didn’t meet under the best of circumstances. But I came to respect him. The fact of the matter is that I’m in a much better place today than I was when we first came to know each other.” She leaned in close to Dell. “I never could have realized it back then, but I really was in the right place and time, after all. For that, I’ll be forever grateful.”