Zero

by J. S. Collyer

  The Resolution’s bridge was easily as big as the Zero’s hold and was almost blindingly bright. Everything was again Service-white and pristine. It made his head ache. No one, not the navigators, gunners, pilots or guards looked up as he slid himself into a tech workstation right at the back of the room.

  Pharos was not sat in the command chair but stood in the centre of the deck, feet apart, face set and eyes locked out the viewscreen, even as Fitzroy chattered urgently in her ear. Webb’s jaw ached. He made himself breathe slower as his hands on the controls worked their way around the Resolution’s system firewalls, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off the admiral. He couldn’t look away from the way she stared out at the thruster trails and explosions lighting up the darkness of space with nothing in her eyes.

  He watched his hands enter the re-route commands and then pulled out his gun.

  ɵ

  Hugo had to make a conscious effort to push aside the creeping chill produced by moving through the corridors of a Service flagship whilst knowing he was in enemy territory. He cursed Pharos and Fitzroy and everything he could think of as he looked around at the Service men and women, clothed as he was, thinking like he did, or like he used to, but knowing that they were fighting and dying for something that, at the end of it all, was nothing to do with them.

  He kept his head down in case he was recognised and accessed the first unmanned workstation he came to to try and find out what the hell Webb was up to. The strength of the surge of relief he had felt when Father's cockpit had been empty had unsettled him. But this, along with everything else, he pushed aside. For a moment nothing but Doll's words echoed through his head...

  ...you might still get a chance to save him...

  It wasn't Webb... and yet it was. All the hurt, all the anger, all the bitterness of everything that had ever been done to Ezekiel Webb now belonged to his clone. Hugo could guess what he would do in the same situation. And if he was anywhere near right, he knew Webb would not have planned on surviving.

  It was down to Hugo to get him out. To save him.

  He stared at the workstation screen with his zero-results search blinking at him whilst system alert lights flashed and alarms sounded around him, then went with his gut and turned aft to try and find express lifts that would take him up to the bridge.

  The first moment of real panic rung through the corridors when the ship gave a great shudder and the lights all blacked out. There was a moment of swallowing silence and then the air was storming away. His feet went out from under him. He grabbed out blindly, got a hold on something solid and clung. His ears were filled with a rushing like a waterfall and the air was ripped from his lungs. Muffled screams rang out and objects knocked against him in the dark.

  Something struck his head. He bit his tongue and saw stars but managed to keep his fingertips around the handhold. He blinked the hot stinging out of his eyes and spat blood. Just when his fingers were starting to slip, there was a surge that rocked his belly and he fell to the ground.

  He sat up, blinking, just as the lights came back on. People were shaking themselves and getting to their feet, some rubbing bruises, others wiping blood out of their eyes like he was. There was lots of coughing. The air tasted thin and the hum of the ship's workings had changed key.

  Crew around him gathered themselves and limped on, muttering into wrist panels and headsets, giving or seeking new orders. Hugo got to his feet then froze as he caught a glimpse of one of the displays across the corridor. He made himself stagger to it and stared. The port reactor was gone and had taken most of the stern with it. The results displayed just long enough for Hugo to gather that all external communications, 40% of life support, 25% of the crew and 60% of the power were now gone. Then the screen went blank and the overhead lights dimmed.

  He turned and ran, picking his way through dropped equipment and debris. Technicians worked feverishly and were shouted at by officers hovering like crows. The displays flickered back on and someone somewhere cheered but then was silenced. Their course had changed.

  “Get back in the system,” someone barked. “Get those commands overridden, now.”

  “I can't, sir,” a navigator quavered. “Someone's put in a lockdown -”

  “Break through it.”

  “There's not enough processing power left in the main servers -”

  Hugo kept moving, heart pounding. The lights went again. Only emergency lighting came back on. The panic around him fizzled to a frozen acceptance, like ice forming in the air. A few people continued to rush by, but most just stood and stared at the wall displays. He could smell smoke.

  When he got to the lifts they weren't working. He swore again and turned about to try and find a service hatch. The order to abandon ship started blaring out just as he found one. He had to press against the bulkhead to avoid being swept off in the throng of crew heading towards what was left of the stern and the escape pods. They hurried but they didn't push and they followed each other like ants moving through a colony. He wanted to scream at them to hurry the fuck up. Didn't they know the Resolution was bleeding oxygen? Bleeding fuel? If the stern fires reached the second reactor...

  He shook his head and elbowed his own way through the oncoming tide of crew and took the ladders and stairs two and three at a time. After the chaos of the engineering and service corridors, the stillness in the command-level corridors was eerie. The evacuation command was still repeating through wall speakers and the alarm lights were still flashing, but there was no one around. He passed one downed security guard and then another, and pulled out his own gun. The doors to the bridge were closed but not locked. They slid open when he hit the control.

  Only one of the guards who had her weapon trained on Webb looked around as Hugo came in. The other two kept their eyes on their target, dressed in Service Technician coveralls with a grim look on his face and a gun pointed at Admiral Pharos. Their focus allowed Hugo to take them out before they even realised what was happening. The one who had seen him opened fire in his direction but he had already managed to get behind a workstation. It exploded into shards of metal and sparking wires. More shots were exchanged and cries rung out and then everything was silent again. Even the alarms and automated announcements seemed muted. Smoke hung in the air.

  His ears were ringing and there were fresh spots of pulsing heat in his shoulders and leg where shrapnel or bullets had grazed him. He swiped blood out of his eyes and got to his knees.

  The security team were all dead. Fitzroy was propped up in a control chair, hand clutched at his chest and struggling to sit up. There was blood dribbling from his mouth and his already pale skin had taken on a greyish tinge. The only ones standing were Webb and Pharos.

  “Stay back, Hugo,” Webb grated in a voice Hugo barely recognised.

  Pharos looked at Webb like he was an insect caught in her cockpit. The grip the commander had on his weapon caused his knuckles to stand out white and his face looked like it had been cast from steel.

  “You destroyed a future today, Webb,” Pharos said into the silence. “If your hell exists, it will welcome you with open arms.”

  “Funny,” Webb said, grin sickly. “You seemed rather fond of me at one point. How times change.”

  She glared down her nose at him. The bridge shuddered around them and the proximity alarms rose in volume. The yellow streaks of jettisoned escape pods arced off and away outside the wide central viewscreen. The white surface of the moon filled the whole expanse beyond. Tranquillity blinked ahead.

  “Webb,” Hugo said, standing. “You set us on a collision course?”

  Webb didn't move. “You shouldn't have come.”

  “I can't let you do this.”

  Webb threw him the twisted grin that had been turned on Pharos. “Don't worry. It'll all be over soon.”

  “Webb -”

  “Don't call me that.”

  “He's right,” Pharos intoned. “He doesn't deserve the name Webb. Or McCullough. Despite his blood, despite his
life, none of the Lunar greats have manifested themselves in him in any way. They would be ashamed.”

  “What, the bastard your precious McCullough fathered with some nameless Lunar 1 nobody didn't live up to your expectations?” Webb laughed, clicking back the gun hammer. “And you call me deluded.”

  Pharos smiled. It was horrible. “You lost, useless fool,” she said. “Even now you don't understand.”

  “I'm about done with your brand of understanding, Admiral.”

  She shook her head and for a moment Hugo thought he saw sadness creep into the edges of her expression but then it iced over again. “McCullough and I were to build a future. You, our child, were to be that future. But instead you’ve destroyed it all.”

  Webb stiffened. His face twisted. Hugo stared at the pair of them. Stared at the way they stood, the same murderous determination in each of their faces.

  “No... it's not true...” Webb's voice cracked.

  Pharos's smile widened into a mockery of Webb's usual grin. “Oh, my dear boy. If only that were so.” She put her head on one side. Tranquillity loomed closer. All the hail lights on the command panel were flashing and warnings scrawled manically across the displays but Pharos didn't even spare them a glance. “I'm still trying to decide whether it was Duran or I who made the biggest mistake. Me, for hiding you on Lunar 1 or Duran for insisting you were retrieved. He knew his chance was over but that our dream could live again, in you. If only he knew how you’d end up ruining everything.”

  “He had help,” Fitzroy growled in the corner, breathing shallow but face twisted in fury.

  Pharos's weighted gaze slid from Fitzroy to Hugo. “Yes. You. You who I thought had the flexibility of mind to understand what it was like to straddle opposing sides. To see all angles. To appreciate the necessity of making one's own rules. I'm not even sure which of you has been the biggest disappointment.”

  “Webb,” Hugo said, ignoring the admiral though it felt like her gaze was burning holes in him. “We have to go.”

  “Yes. Go,” Pharos waved a hand. “Go and accept your medals and then run away somewhere dark and spend the rest of your life trying to convince yourself you did the right thing.”

  “Did you order it?” Webb snapped, taking a step closer to Pharos.

  “Order what?” she asked, in a tired voice.

  “His death? When you couldn't get him to join you, did Fitzroy put out the contract on his life, or was it you?” For the briefest of moments Hugo thought he saw the barest flicker in the admiral's eyes. “Did you order the death of your own son?” he shouted whilst the hand holding the gun trembled.

  Pharos clenched her jaw and the flicker was gone. “Yes,” she said, not breaking eye contact for a second. “Better dead than a life spent as less than nothing.”

  Webb's whole body was shaking. Fitzroy was no longer smiling. Nor was he breathing. The ship shook. Hugo could make out the lines of the skyways and spacescrapers of Tranquillity.

  “You took too many wrong turns,” Pharos whispered, looking out the viewscreen.

  “I guess I take after my mother,” Webb's voice shook and choked but he was grinning. The gun fired. Pharos went down. Webb kept firing until she stopped moving. She lay slumped on the deck, one leg bent under her, arms spread wide. Blood trickled in rivulets between the floor tiles. The one eye that remained stared up at the bulkhead. Webb stood over her, still shaking, gun still aimed.

  Hugo shook himself and staggered forward, clutched at his commander's jacket. “Webb,” he hissed “Help me redirect the ship.”

  Webb turned his face to Hugo but it didn't look like he was seeing him. His eyes were red. His mouth was open but he made no sound. Some of Pharos's blood was spattered across his face.

  “Zeek,” Hugo said, taking a grip of his commander’s shoulders. “Snap out of it.”

  “Tranquillity has to go,” he mumbled, gazing right through him.

  “No,” Hugo shook his head, looked right into his eyes. “No, Webb. There are innocent people down there.”

  Webb's face screwed up into another twisted smile. “All gotta go sometime. Better to die now than live as less than nothing.”

  Hugo shook him. “Fucking snap out of it. This isn't you.”

  Webb blinked and tears cut tracks in the dirt and the blood. He looked surprised for a moment then seemed to finally focus. He looked very young. He pulled Hugo's hands off his shoulders. “I'm done, Hugo. It's over.”

  “Webb...” The commander's jaw tightened. “Commander, we get through this we can find you a new name. A new start. Just... don't let this happen. Tranquillity may have been part of Pharos's game plan, but the people in it weren't.”

  Webb swallowed a few times, still staring at Hugo. He felt the edges of desperation begin to claw at his insides and he put a hand behind Webb's head and pulled him forward so their foreheads were pressed together. “Please,” he breathed. “Don't be like her.”

  Webb shivered and pulled away. He wiped his eyes on his sleeves, hesitated for the longest moment Hugo remembered experiencing, then went to the nearest control panel. Hugo, heart in his mouth, took a co pilot's chair. Sweat was soon pouring down his face as he wrestled with the controls. Tranquillity was wheeling closer and closer. He felt them gather speed as gravity took hold.

  “Re-route all power from the starboard reactor,” Hugo ordered. “Get everything, everything, into the thrusters.”

  Webb shook his head. “I don't think it will be enough.”

  “Do it anyway. Re-route gravity and life support if you have to.”

  Webb's face was still blank but he nodded and keyed in the commands.

  Second by painful second crept by and slowly the controls started to respond. The ship groaned and clanked but gradually and sickeningly slowly, she arced out of her course.

  “Ten degrees further,” Hugo said through clenched teeth. “Just get her ten degrees further to port. Then we run.”

  “Hugo -”

  “Do it.”

  Webb pressed more commands and stared out of the viewscreen as Tranquillity fell out of view and the rocky grey of the moon's waste spread before them.

  “Right. Run.”

  They scrambled away from the control panel and ran across the bridge. They skirted Pharos and Fitzroy's slumped forms and pelted through the doors and down the corridor.

  “Shit,” Hugo spat when he realised all the command-level escape pods had been jettisoned. “We'll have to chance the engineering levels...” Webb just nodded, looking drained and uncaring but Hugo growled and grabbed him by the jacket and shoved him ahead. “Run, damn you.”

  They ran. The gravity warped and slipped, making his insides lurch and occasionally causing them to have to stumble along at an angle. It was becoming more difficult to catch his breath but he kept moving, keeping Webb ahead of him. They vaulted down service stairs and ladders, jumping over rubble and careening around corners as fast as their overworked legs and the weakening gravity would take them. He spent precious seconds at a workstation to establish that there were some escape pods left on the next level below before ordering Webb onwards.

  They got down a level then skidded to a halt in front of some locked blast doors.

  “It's breached,” Webb mumbled. “You have a suit. Go.”

  “This isn't a negotiation,” Hugo snapped and shoved Webb towards a workstation. “Strap yourself in.”

  “Hugo -”

  “Fucking stop arguing with me and do it.”

  Webb sighed and strapped himself into the workstation chair, eyeing Hugo as he pulled up his helmet and sealed it. He took deep breaths of the suit's air and felt his mind clear then set about overriding the breach protocol on the doors. He remembered a time when he didn't even know breach protocols could be overridden. Burying the mixed feelings that thought produced, he slammed in the last code and the doors juddered open.

  He stumbled over with the force of the escaping air. He rolled over and over and heard Webb cry out but act
ivated his magnets and his feet clamped to the bulkhead. He felt something in his leg go but didn't let himself acknowledge the pain. Debris flew past him and around the next bend in the corridor towards the breach. The emergency lights flickered off then on again and the ship shook.

  He got himself upright and used his hand and foot magnets to crab his way down to the nearest pod and activated the doors. As soon as they were open he turned back and waved at Webb. Webb sat staring down the corridor at Hugo. For a moment Hugo thought he wasn't going to move but then he shook his head and undid the restraints.

  The commander tumbled and was pulled down the passage, heels digging into the floor in an attempt to slow his progress but he still collided into Hugo with enough force to knock the wind out of both of them. Hugo clung on and Webb got a hand out to grab the edge of the pod. Together they heaved themselves through and activated the door control.

  Everything stilled as the pressure stabilised. Hugo swallowed down bile and scrambled to the pod’s launch controls. It shook as its thrusters pulled them away from the Resolution and then against the moon's gravity. Hugo clung to the controls until the shuddering steadied and there was nothing but swirling, star-pricked blackness out of the viewscreen. He unzipped his helmet and took great gasps of the pod's air just as the fireball of the Resolution’s impact with the moon erupted behind them. The force of the blast sent them spiralling away. The narrow rear viewscreen showed the great ship crumpling against the surface like tin. A mess of metal, flame and white moon dust was flung out past their pod then all was still.

  Hugo closed his eyes and breathed. The pain from his leg overrode his senses. His throat and eyes stung and he coughed and wiped blood and dirt from his face and slowly felt his pulse begin to calm.

  Webb was hunched on the tiny bit of floorspace with his arms wrapped around one knee, staring at nothing.

  “Are you okay?” Hugo said, wincing as he scrambled toward him. Webb didn't respond until Hugo put a hand on his arm then his feverish eyes snapped toward him.

  “It feels real,” Webb whispered. “I know none of it is mine…these feelings aren’t real... but it feels real.”