by Isaac Hooke
He began to doubt that Zhidao had actually appeared. And he doubted everything else, too.
I hallucinated this whole thing. I’m still on the mountain with Famina. I never left it.
He closed his eyes. That wasn’t true and he knew it. He started to pull himself to his feet, but then collapsed once more.
I just want to lie down for a second.
He started to do that very thing, but then stopped himself. He remembered the cardinal rule of mountain climbing.
Go to sleep when you’re hypothermic and exposed to the elements, you die.
He had to dig himself a bivouac of some sort in the snow. But he felt so weak.
Wait a second. None of this is real.
There had to be a simpler way out.
He thought of the psi defense training he had practiced from time to time, and tried to imagine the red pyramid, blue sphere, and green box floating in the air in front of him. He concentrated on those shapes in his mind’s eye, until he no longer felt the frigid fingers of the wind tearing into his flesh, and the sound of his gasping breath receded.
He closed his eyes and imagined a bulwark around him, protecting him from the wind and snow. He placed soldiers and combat robots on the upper walkways of that bulwark, alongside pulse cannon emplacements. He kept building and adding to that wall until it towered into the sky. Satisfied, he opened his eyes.
The dreary white landscape remained. The wind and cold bit into his face with renewed vigor.
He closed his eyes and tried again, several times. Each time he opened his eyes to the same scene. By the seventh attempt he was growing desperate.
I should have taken my psi defense training more seriously.
And then the gusting wind receded slightly.
Famina sat beside him.
“Reach out,” she said. “Link with the boy.”
“What boy?”
But she was gone.
Then Jonathan remembered Bridgette’s words.
It wasn’t me alone who resisted Barrick. I linked with Eugene.
Jonathan had never covered linking in his training, and he wasn’t sure what to do.
He closed his eyes, visualized the child’s face as he had seen it in the dream environment, and tried to reach out with his mind. He sensed the psychic mass that was Zhidao, overpowering everything else. He tried to distance himself from that mass, but couldn’t. Resigned to its weight, he began casting about with his psi energy, searching for signs of anyone else out there.
But there was no one. And even if there was, he’d never be able to find them, not with the overwhelming presence of Zhidao so close to him.
He realized it wouldn’t work anyway: he’d never find Eugene while the child was inside the psi-shielded tent in Robert’s quarters.
But that might not be true anymore. Jonathan had ordered an evacuation of the ship, after all.
An evacuation.
His shoulders slumped with the realization that the boy had probably already left the ship.
Then he held his chin up against the biting wind. I have to try, no matter what.
Jonathan reached out with his psi energy one more time.
Eugene. I need you.
EUGENE HAD HIS arms wrapped around mommy. His face was wet with tears. Something really bad was happening.
Mommy was carrying him through a crowd. Grown-ups were shoving each other, shouting. Some were crying, like him.
A strange siren kept repeating in the background. Rrrrrrrreeeeeeee. Rrrrrrrreeeeeeee. Rrrrrrrreeeeeeee. It scared him.
The grown-ups around him Glowed sickly sweet, a feeling he felt deep inside himself that made him want to throw up. Mommy had the same Glow, which only added to his own fright.
Why are they so scared?
He couldn’t make sense of all the frantic thoughts that Beamed into his head from the grown-ups around him. It was all he could do to keep them out.
He just wanted to close his eyes and make all of this go away. But he remembered mommy’s words.
“I’m going to need you to promise me something,” she had said. “We can’t go into the Safe Place. We have to stay here, in the Real World.”
He sucked his thumb. Mommy had told him repeatedly he was too old to be doing that. But he didn’t care.
I want to go to the Safe Place.
He could go so easily. And bring all of these people with him. He could make them Glow bright.
But mommy told him if he did that, they would all die. Including him.
Die. Eugene was afraid of that word. He didn’t really know what it meant, but he knew it was bad, because those who died could never Glow again.
As mommy took her place at the end of a line of grown-ups, he thought he sensed something, but then it was gone. Had he imagined it? Then it came again. A weak Glow that cut through the scary scene around him. Though it was blurry, there was something familiar about it. He thought it was the grown-up who had come to visit him in the Safe Place. Mommy’s friend.
The grown-up was in his own Safe Place, and was reaching out to him.
Eugene. I need you.
The grown-up was in trouble.
Closing his eyes, being very careful not to go into the Safe Place himself, Eugene Glowed, giving a part of himself to mommy’s friend.
thirty-three
Jonathan forced himself to try again, but Zhidao’s psychic mass was too powerful and blocked all his attempts to reach Eugene. He was about to give up when, just like that, Jonathan felt a new presence out there. A glow in the darkness that outshone even Zhidao.
Jonathan reached for it, and it flowed around and inside Jonathan’s psychic energy, imbuing him with strength, adding its brightness to his own.
It was Eugene, he knew. He sensed fear from the child, mixed with hope. He detected Bridgette’s faint presence as well, but he couldn’t reach her.
The link was weak at first. Insubstantial. But as more and more of the psychic energy flowed into him, he felt the connection solidify.
Jonathan opened his eyes. He was still seated in the snow upon the mountaintop, but he knew that he was the one in control now.
He stood. He physically reached out with his hand and grasped at the empty air. At the same time his mind roved the nearby area. There: a pulsing psychic mass.
The Phant.
Jonathan wrapped psi tendrils around that mass and squeezed his fist. He pulled.
Zhidao emerged from the empty air, ripped back into the mind world the Phant had created.
“What—?” Zhidao said.
Jonathan curled his bicep and then flung his arm outward, hurling Zhidao backward. A tree of ice thrust from the mountain behind the man, and Zhidao slammed against it. Shackles of ice formed around the man’s arms and legs, pinning him to the tree.
“You wanted to trap me in this mind world?” Jonathan cocked his head. “It is you who is going to be trapped here, I’m afraid.”
He felt Zhidao’s essence shoving against the energy Jonathan had folded around the psychic mass. For a moment he thought Zhidao was going to break free, but more energy pulsed into Jonathan from Eugene, and his grip held.
He visualized the bulwark once more. It was different, this time. Thicker, more substantial. Covered in sharp spikes. The bulwark expanded and contracted as if breathing, like a living entity. It grew into the sky, and reached farther, thrusting into space. It cut out the cold and wind completely.
Jonathan contracted its dimensions, shrinking the ceiling and walls until he and Zhidao were in the equivalent of a dungeon cell. Jonathan created a torch in a bracket on one wall. The flames didn’t touch the icy tree to which Zhidao was bound.
Jonathan gazed at Zhidao disdainfully for a moment, meeting that angry glower.
“You should have shot me when you had the chance,” Jonathan said.
He willed himself to leave.
He stood on the bridge once more. He realized his link with Eugene was quickly fading, and he wasn’t sure if Zhida
o would remain in the mind world or not.
He hurried to the unconscious MA and wrenched the laser rifle from his grip, then he fired point blank at the man’s head. No, not a man. The brain case melted away, revealing the circuits of an Artificial. Purple liquid began to drip from the neck. The Phant’s physical representation in this universe?
Jonathan tried firing at the liquid itself, but the invisible laser seemed to have no effect. Worried about potential ricochets that he wasn’t seeing, he only made that one attempt.
The link with Eugene had faded completely by then. That he didn’t return to the mind world told him that the Phant was either incapable of a direct psi attack, or it was too stunned to do so. Probably a combination of both. Jonathan suspected the Phant had installed some sort of extensions into the Artificial to enable it to interact psychically with human beings.
He glanced at the clock in the lower right of his vision: only a few seconds had passed since he had first entered the mind world. He had read about this: the psi time compression effect.
That meant there was still a chance for the Callaway to intercept those bombs.
“Maxwell, restore bridge access and resume all of my previous orders,” Jonathan said. “Authorization code captain delta five niner twenty-two.”
Jonathan held his breath, hoping the authorization would go through.
“Authorization code accepted,” Maxwell said. “Resuming all previous orders. It’s good to have you back, Captain.”
Jonathan exhaled in relief. “How long until we intercept the disintegration bombs?”
“Roughly thirty seconds,” the Callaway’s AI replied.
“You need to account for the fact that both bombs are going to swerve at the last moment,” Jonathan said. “You have to be prepared to dive or ascend to compensate.”
“I have included several last-minute course vector changes in my impact calculations,” Maxwell said. “I will be ready. I have even accounted for scenarios involving the bombs taking two divergent paths when they reach the Callaway, though admittedly there is only a seventy percent likelihood I will be able to reach both bombs in such a scenario.”
“Good job,” Jonathan said. “You’re the best toaster I’ve ever had, Maxwell. And probably the last.”
“I’m surprised you’re not angry with me for disobeying you earlier,” Maxwell said.
“It’s not your fault,” Jonathan said. “The Phant and I had a little discussion while I was out. He explained a few things. Now please, begin ejecting your core from the shielded area. Don’t complete the process until we impact those bombs.”
Keeping the rifle pointed at the Phant, which was still oozing slowly from the lifeless Artificial but otherwise had made no move against the captain so far, Jonathan retreated across the bridge to the far bulkhead.
The panel that led to the AI core opened as he approached, and the cylindrical tube containing the AI’s computational essence emerged. It was roughly the size and length of an adult human arm.
“You really shouldn’t risk your life in some vainglorious attempt to save me,” Maxwell said. “You don’t owe me anything. We AIs are used to sacrificing ourselves for humans. We do it all the time. It’s part of the job description.”
“Can’t let you do it,” Jonathan said. “You go, I go.”
“I suppose some thanks are in order, then,” Maxwell said. “We’ll make a captain out of you yet.”
“Ha. Now just don’t miss those goddamn bombs.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” Maxwell said.
Jonathan stared at the cylindrical device that contained the sentient AI that was Maxwell, and watched a series of blue lights revolve around the upper rim. It was almost hard to believe a cylinder of that size contained a computer that could run a starship. He reminded himself that other AIs were just as miniature, some of them even more-so, for example those embedded in Centurions and Artificials.
He couldn’t remove the core until Maxwell shut down. And the AI wouldn’t do that until it had completed its task.
Jonathan watched the seconds tick down toward the time of impact.
“Are all the crew off the ship yet?” Jonathan asked at the eight second mark.
“You are currently the only crew member aboard. Discounting the Phant.”
He exhaled in relief. At least he wouldn’t have more deaths on his conscience. He already had enough for a lifetime.
“I think I might retire from the Navy after this,” Jonathan said.
“Probably a good idea,” Maxwell replied. “If you still need a toaster, I’m available.”
Jonathan laughed softly. His chin quivered slightly, and his eyes felt suddenly moist.
Can’t believe I’m choking up over an AI at a time like this.
Jonathan straightened, hardening himself for what was to come.
“We’ve been struck,” the AI reported. “Hull integrity is severely compromised. Decks one through seventy are breached.”
In the first few moments, those bombs were equivalent to kinetic kills, in that the impacts alone would rip deep into the Callaway, causing horrific damage. Jonathan was lucky none of the breaches penetrated to the bridge or its immediate passageway.
“Did we get both bombs?” Jonathan asked.
“Unknown,” Maxwell replied. “But disintegration is proceeding rapidly. I estimate you have approximately fifteen seconds to evacuate. I’m shutting down. Good luck, Captain. And thank you once again. I’m literally in your hands now.”
The rotating blue lights around the cylinder deactivated.
Nearly instantaneously all the overhead lights turned off. Emergency HLEDs turned on in the ceiling instead.
Jonathan grabbed the core and twisted it, lifting it from the panel. The cylinder felt surprisingly heavy. With both arms he hefted it over one shoulder and hurried to the exit.
Maxwell had had the presence of mind to open the bridge hatch before shutting down. That was a relief, because it would have taken Jonathan a good minute to open the door manually.
Before he left the bridge, he glanced back one last time to regard the Phant. It remained underneath the ruined Artificial, where it formed a small purple pool.
Jonathan raced into the passageway outside, which was completely empty. By then even the robot MAs would have spaced themselves. The emergency lights gave the corridor an eerie subterranean feel.
He reached the nearest evac station. Seven of the eight lifepods were gone, but as promised, Robert and the others had left him the unit closest to the bridge.
The door to the lifepod was already wide open.
Thank you, Maxwell.
Jonathan flung himself inside the cramped pod. He took the only seat, which faced the entrance, and strapped himself in as the door sealed behind him. He secured Maxwell’s core inside the storage bin beside him.
Through the portal in the door, he watched as loose items were sucked past: he had only just made it inside before his deck lost integrity and explosively decompressed.
He leaned forward slightly and gazed through the portal in the direction the debris flowed. He caught sight of the far end of the passageway: it was fast disintegrating.
Jonathan slammed his hand on the lifepod release.
The Callaway hurtled from view as the escape craft flung from the ship. He felt the Gs as the weak inertial compensators struggled to kick in—they were far less powerful than those aboard the ship, but just strong enough to prevent the forces from ripping apart his body.
There was no longer any artificial gravity either, and his stomach began to revolt. Jonathan swallowed several times, trying to keep his lunch down.
It didn’t work.
He hadn’t had time to suit up, so when he vomited, a blob of noxious green liquid floated into the air in front of him. The sight and smell made him vomit again.
He closed his eyes and took a few moments to catch his breath.
When he opened his eyes once more, the vomit had drifted to the far side
of the lifepod, where it rolled along the bulkhead in globules. He quickly looked away, not wanting to throw up again.
He gazed out the portal in front of him in time to catch the last remnant of the Callaway as it dissolved.
She was quite the ship.
Good bye, my old friend.
thirty-four
Via his aReal, Jonathan accessed the adhoc mesh network formed by the Implants and aReals of the Callaway’s crew out there, a network whose range was boosted slightly by the tiny comm nodes provided by the lifepods. He pulled up the list of evacuees and, after confirming that all the bridge crew and department heads had escaped, as well as Bridgette and her son, he dismissed the text messages inquiring after his safety and responded with a broadcast text: I made it. Have Maxwell.
Jonathan tapped in the Salvador as he awaited pick-up.
“Captain Dallas,” Rail answered. Her voice distorted slightly, due to the poor quality of the comm node connection between Jonathan and her ship.
“Rail,” Jonathan said. “Is the Elder ship safe?”
“It is,” Rail replied. “The Callaway plowed into the last two bombs, destroying them completely. I hope you made the right choice in sparing the Elder.”
“I hope so, too, believe me,” Jonathan said. “What’s the status on the final scavenger out there?”
“The final scavenger has emerged from the far side of Vesta,” Rail said. “It has assumed an escort position beside the Elder ship, and so far hasn’t made any aggressive maneuvers.”
“Standing guard in case we launch something else their way...” Jonathan said. “Is there any indication that the Elder ship is engaged in repairs?” The enemy vessel was basically a wreckage by that point, what with half of it destroyed.
“We’ve had our cameras zoom in on the damaged regions,” Rail said. “The nanobots are definitely working to seal the breaches. Whether or not they’ll be able to restore their lost sections, however, is anyone’s guess.”
“I’m sure, given enough time and resources, they will,” Jonathan said. “Can you tap me in to Wethersfield?”
