Sheemi had been assigned to Alpha Team, under Captain Rollins, with Sargsyan as their team lead. After Quid led Bravo Team away, Sargsyan took them to some empty quarters, small rooms not much bigger than closets back on Earth, and a communal shower. After cleaning up, Sheemi returned to her bunk and slept.
The next morning, they entered a crowded cafeteria where ration meals had been stacked on a table. Sheemi took one and found a place to sit. Soldiers made up about half of those seated at the tables. Hushed conversations went back and forth around the room. It seemed none of her fellow soldiers knew any more than she did. After breakfast, everyone was led to an auditorium.
“Welcome,” said a general from the podium. He was tall with faraway eyes and three stars on his chest. He looked at them for some time before speaking. “My name is General Makinen.”
The famous Makinen. Sheemi and Brin had heard the stories from their father even before the media made Makinen a legend. He’d led the ghost battalion. Three companies from Aubagne, marooned without support for over two months, still managing to wreak havoc on the Hexi. When they’d finally been evac’d, less than a third remained.
“I apologize to those who weren’t briefed beforehand. Due to recent security developments, we were forced to recruit many of you without your knowledge. However, we did vet each of you. Your superiors vouched for your qualifications and sense of duty.
“Soldiers, citizens, let me explain our situation. Earth is nearing its fall. We don’t know why the Hexiform have taken as long as they have to overcome our defenses, given their technological superiority, but in recent days, they have stepped up assaults. They rarely take prisoners, soldiers or civilians. When the New Cities fall, humanity will be exterminated.”
Sheemi felt no surprise. She’d known they were losing. They all had, no matter what reassurances the politicians had provided to terrified citizens.
“As the war has progressed, the Alliance has been implementing a contingency plan. Eight years ago, five years before the Hexi arrived, we discovered layers of infrastructure built beneath Chelyabinsk. These layers were built by the chines for chines, not for human use. Similar layers were found beneath each of the New Cities. We believe these layers were the initial phase of city construction and operated by the chines until the regular city systems came online. In addition, they appear to have served as work space for chine projects.
“In our investigations of the chine layers, we discovered prototype long-range spacecraft built by the chines. Some think these prototypes were intentionally left for us to find. Regardless, they were found and used to build our own spacecraft here on the moon.”
Murmurs swirled around her. A schematic appeared on the wall behind Makinen, but she couldn’t make heads or tails of it. As the general explained, she began to understand. It was a ship, a spacecraft. A central sphere, with rods on either side, one connecting to a rectangular shape, the fusion drive and the main engines, the other rod ending in a ring, like a bicycle wheel with spokes. Spheres clustered along each rod, with wing-like solar panels attached near the ring. It looked like a toy some kid had cobbled together, a jury-rigged contraption that said anything but fly to her.
“We’ve had to modify their designs. Habitat modules were added here.” He pointed to the ring.
The wall lit up with a map of the solar system.
“The Hexi are concentrated at L3.” Makinen pointed to a few icons on the far side of the sun. “At least two spacecraft. After their initial insertion, they withdrew, possibly to avoid any long-range missile strikes we might attempt. Their positioning may give us enough time to deploy our own spacecraft before they can intercept—”
“Where we goin’ sir?”
Sheemi, along with everyone else, turned to look at the speaker, a heavily scarred soldier in the back. The man kept his gaze on the general. He looked like a rock.
“Good question, First Sergeant. We have three destinations, our best guesses on where the chines might have gone. All of them far beyond Sol. And only three ships to check them out.”
Not for the first time that day, but more so than any time before, Sheemi’s expectations had fallen woefully short of this new reality. I must have misheard him, a tiny voice said inside her head. This can’t be happening.
The people around her looked at one another. From the way their mouths had fallen open and their shocked expressions, they were as astonished as she was. Others shook their heads with outright skepticism. Manned spacecraft hadn’t made it outside of Sol. Probes, yeah, but no one had ever left the sun’s orbit.
Makinen waited until the room quieted. “It’s true we’ve never sent a crewed mission beyond the solar system. Nor have we ever used this technology before. But despite those risks, we are sending our best, all of you in this room, into the unknown to find the chines and enlist their help in our war against the Hexi. I won’t lie. It’s a desperate move, but I know you can succeed. You will find them. You have to.
“We’ve assembled teams with diverse skillsets. The Army will lead, but with civilian scientists to advise and technicians to maintain the ships. Each ship’s crew will include a chine specialist, an ambassador, for when you do find the chines.
“After two days of training, you will board your assigned ships,” Makinen said. “Adamant, Tenacity, and Dauntless. Many people have sweated and toiled to design and build these ships and ready you to crew them. Your mission is our last chance to stop the Hexi from destroying our people. I know you will prevail. Good luck.”
Sheemi studied Makinen’s face. Did he believe what he was saying? Or was this just a speech to make them feel like heroes before they disappeared forever? He looked worn-down but far from defeated. He believed.
Some scientists explained the plan in more detail. The spacecraft would be launched from the moon in parts and assembled in orbit. They would depart before the Hexi could get to them, activate some kind of brand-new engine that would take them to their destinations faster than light. Chine technology. Interuniverse frictional displacement Makinen called it—IFD.
An engineer stood to explain, but his words went right over Sheemi’s head. The pieces of each ship would be unburied, launched, and maneuvered into lunar orbit. Once assembled, the crew would complete their assigned tasks, run diagnostics, and then power up to move out-system.
The IFD engine wasn’t really an engine, and they wouldn’t really be moving through their universe. Instead, they would be towed along by another universe selected out of billions, expanding differently from their universe. When the ship moved, it would be somewhere in between universes. A life model would ensure the other universe was similar enough the in-between conditions would support human life.
The rest of the briefing blurred in Sheemi’s mind. Too much technobabble. It didn’t matter. As far as she could tell, they were to turn tail and run, looking for someone to help them. Away from the fight. Away from the Hexi. A choking disappointment gripped her. Mentally she got it, but in spirit, she knew they’d already lost.
As the pre-flight briefings continued, Sheemi saw fear, pride and resolution on the faces of those around her. She searched inside, but found only an absence of feeling. She stopped listening, and instead thought of Brin, of all the Hexi she’d killed to avenge him, and of the father who’d betrayed her by sending her away.
Chapter 5 – Machine
“We’ve got something to show you,” Izmit said, standing with Abby at Kellen’s door.
Days had gone by without Kellen seeing either of them. Izmit’s clothes, arms and hands, and face were filthy. Dark circles under his eyes betrayed his weariness, but his eyes held a spark. Abby made a similar impression. Despite their condition, they couldn’t wait to go back to the sphere. They both seemed more at home back underground as they marched through the tunnels’ twists and turns.
They’d been busy. The piece they’d cut in the tunnel wall had been replaced, but with handles welded on. Abby dragged a bundle of cable out from where it h
ad been laid inside a tunnel groove. As she fed the cable in through the hole to Izmit, Kellen followed it in the opposite direction to where it had been patched into a power conduit.
The complicated knot of wires, cabling, and devices he couldn’t identify far surpassed his meager technical knowledge. Thankfully, we have a Lighter. The closest he came to such skills was plugging in his kiln.
Abby peered out at him from the hole. “Come on. It’s ready.”
She moved aside as he came through. The cables had been spliced into a panel on the inside of the spherical chamber. She waved him on. Izmit stood farther out along the platform, watching him.
“After you,” Izmit said.
Kellen looked to see if he was serious. He was. Kellen gulped, turning to the center of the sphere. What did they have up their sleeve? He’d never been fond of surprises. He resolved to get it over with and walked out onto the disc of the main platform. Nothing. He turned and looked back at Izmit, who was watching Abby as she fiddled with something.
“There,” Abby said.
A barrage of light hit him, and Kellen gasped. Patterns and symbols flickered across the platform’s dark mirrored surface. The graphics faded, leaving a bounding ring of light along the platform’s circumference and a smaller ring around his feet. A luminous box appeared in front of him, half a meter by a quarter, where he could touch it if he crouched down.
He took an involuntary step backward. The small ring and box followed. He yelped and backed out of the bounding ring. The small ring faded, then the box.
Kellen looked sheepishly at the others. They grinned.
“It knows us,” Abby said.
“You’re the Drawer, Kel,” Izmit said. “The box only appears for you.” To prove it, he stepped into the circle. A ring of light appeared about his feet, but no box. “Go back inside the ring.”
“It won’t hurt you,” Abby said.
“How do you know?”
“Go on,” Izmit said. “Don’t be afraid.”
Kellen bristled at that, but he couldn’t deny the sense of trepidation that filled him. He sighed and stepped across the ring, planting his foot with care. Nothing. He stepped fully inside the ring and the smaller ring reappeared around his feet. The box reilluminated. He waited, but nothing more happened. He moved to the center of the platform, the ring and the box tracking his movement.
Kellen reached out and touched the box. A stream of symbols marched across the box, left to right, and disappeared. He jerked back his finger.
He touched the box again. The surface was smooth as glass and warm to the touch. Light blossomed beneath his finger, white tinged with violet. He swept his fingers along the surface, trailing light, five glowing lines that slowly faded.
“But what do I draw?” Kellen asked.
“Try something,” Abby said. “Whatever comes to you.”
He didn’t even need to think. Some chine symbols came naturally to his fingers. He traced them out, the symbols glowing on the glass-like surface. They did not fade as before, as if the structure knew these new lines possessed meaning. Kellen traced seven symbols within the box before running out of space. He waited. The others watched expectantly.
The lines faded and disappeared. He reached out and tried more symbols. And more. An hour evaporated and Kellen had sketched all the chine symbols he could remember.
“I have more in my sketchbooks,” he said.
Izmit nodded, looking disappointed.
Abby patted Kellen’s shoulder. “There’s no rush.”
“You’re right,” Izmit said. “That’s enough adventure for one night.”
They returned to the sphere twice over the next week, but Kellen had no better luck.
#
Sitting in his apartment one morning, after a night spent in the sphere, the three of them had little to say.
Kellen felt overwhelmed by frustration. What are we doing? Everyone is right, we’re just fools.
“It’s not working, Iz,” he said. “We’re not getting anywhere. I’ve tried all the symbols I know, and nothing’s happened.”
“Maybe we need a Singer,” Abby said. “Maybe the Singer goes first.”
Izmit shook his head. “Digger, Lighter, Drawer, Singer.”
“That’s just a rhyme sung by children,” Kellen said.
“Is it?”
“If we succeed, if we get it to work, what will happen?” Kellen asked.
“This…sphere, this machine. It might be a beacon,” Izmit said. “It could send a signal, and the chines will come back to help us.”
“Or it will build a chine,” Abby said.
Izmit raised his eyebrows.
“What do any of us know of the chines, except what’s in the histories?” Kellen said. “And are those even true? Who knows? Someone could have made it all up.”
Izmit put on his coat and opened the door. He paused and examined a painting Kellen had done of people on an escalator looking up into the light. Kellen had inserted a chine dressed in a suit, with blue eyes, tubular neck, and limbs.
Izmit pointed to the chine in the painting. “The chines are real. They’ll come.”
Abby flipped her curly hair out of her eyes and nodded, giving Kellen such a look of earnest desire he had to laugh. She laughed, too, and they dropped the subject.
Perhaps we’re mad, Kellen thought, but it wasn’t so bad if you were mad-happy, was it? We’ll have had a secret life, even if it ends in nothing but child’s play and nonsense.
#
Kellen, Izmit, and Abby resumed their visits to the sphere, but the light pad refused to respond to any of the chine symbols Kellen drew. He could duplicate the code aspects of chine symbols with his computer, but that wasn’t possible in the sphere. Abby had failed to find a way to connect his computer.
He began to doubt again whether the Four were anything more than a myth, a shared neurosis harbored by misfits. But he could not deny the sphere existed, and Izmit never doubted him.
Izmit arrived one day with photos of symbols.
Kellen transferred them to his table. He’d never seen most of them before. “Where did you find these?”
Izmit shrugged. “Around.”
As Izmit brought new material, Kellen painted and drew like he’d never done before, staying up all day and into the night. He soon ran out of materials, and like the manic Drawers he’d held in contempt, he ran his paintings and drawings off the paper and onto any available surface, along the walls, onto the cabinets and drawers, even the furniture.
Izmit saw the frenzied scrawls and smiled.
Between his artwork during the day and their continued attempts to activate the sphere at night, Kellen slept little. He would emerge from underground, exhausted, but always turned his grimy face to the sky, happy to be outside again.
Yet whatever symbols he tried, the sphere would not respond. The frustration began to tell. Izmit spoke less than ever. Abby’s usual cheerfulness waned. The war loomed closer. Deep underground, the explosions could be felt as subtle tremors, but they increased in intensity with each passing day. Dust sifted down through the air with each new thud.
Kellen woke late one evening after a marathon session of drawing endless symbols. He had no memory of it, but saw he’d even scrawled symbols onto the skin of his arms. Examining them, he felt the urge to return to the sphere. He called the others and met them at the gate.
Kellen felt primed as he pulled himself into the chamber. The sphere was just as they’d left it, their footsteps echoing in that hushed space. Izmit passed the cables back through to Abby.
“I’m powering it up now,” Abby said, her voice coming faintly from the tunnel.
“Do it,” Izmit said.
Chine symbols flowed through Kellen’s mind, the complex patterns seemingly reduced in his memory, freed of context. He marched straight into the circle and sat down. The light box appeared as expected. In his mind, he composed a long string of chine symbols by feel, by a sense he had about them,
the same intuition he’d used to pick the symbols that had led them down through the tunnels to this place they’d clearly been meant to find. It had to be in him, the key, the cipher, the instinct for the symbols to activate the machine, the beacon…whatever it was.
Kellen’s fingers flew, tracing the patterns, symbol after symbol. In his imagination, he reconstructed the structure he’d been building on his apartment walls, only it was so much larger than that, spiraling and turning, edges and ramparts and spans, a vast tower of information he could only arrive at by drawing the sequence of it, as it led him to the cornerstones, the right symbols, the ones at the top. The symbols grew in his mind’s eye until they stood towering above him, strokes flashing like blades of the sun.
He opened his eyes. All was quiet. The light box was dark. Did I fail? It felt so right.
The last four symbols he’d drawn blinked within the box. As he reached out to touch them, they vanished.
Chapter 6 – Departure
“Go, go, go!” Sergeant Sargsyan shouted.
In their vac suits, Sheemi and the rest of the crew shuffled forward toward the airlock. They boarded the crew launch module, a long tube without wheels or windows. They called it the bus—rows of acceleration couches, the central airlock, and a hatch at either end. Sheemi could hear voices over the comm, counting down.
She couldn’t see much from her seat, but she heard the patter of falling dirt and stones. She tried to gauge their progress by the sounds and vibrations. Loud crunching preceded a lurch that pressed her back into her couch, then away from it, the harness compressing her suit. She pictured them moving away from the moon, drones firing their thrusters to overcome lunar gravity.
Within the restraints, she felt herself falling this way then that as the module rotated. A terrific bang announced their docking with another ring module, followed by another bang. Time dragged as Dauntless auto-assembled with the help of drones. Only periodic vibrations, some sharp, others stuttering, gave any indication of the activity underway as the ship conformed to her design specs.
The Farthest City Page 4
