Strange New Worlds IX

by Dean Wesley Smith

  Zee blinked. “I know. But Mike, you’re the one who said we had to try this. You’re the one who said we should go west, try to find some aeronautical engineer you met a few years ago. I’ve never met this ‘Lily’ person. I’m going on your word, here.”

  They paid for the meal they had just finished and walked back out onto the street as night began to fall on Carbon Creek.

  “We should try getting in touch with her,” Zee said. “Make sure she’s still, um…there.”

  “You mean, alive?”

  “Yes.”

  Ohio passed in a breeze. The same with Indiana and Illinois. Though time flew, it had been weeks since Zee and Mestral’s encounter at MIT in Cambridge. Zee grumbled about the sheer amount of walking their trip entailed, while Mestral continued to remain a quiet mystery. The two often traveled in silence, and at times, Zee wondered why they were even traveling together at all. What good was warp travel going to do a society that was literally tearing itself apart?

  Something else troubled him, also. The soldier in Massachusetts had claimed that E-Con troops were moving into the United States from Canada. Many of the world’s major cities had been nuked; the few newspapers left in circulation made claims about catastrophic death tolls and collapsing economies, worldwide starvation and mass slaughters, none of which Zee thought he could entirely believe. How much was true? How much was exaggerated? How many were bold-faced (he forgave himself that one pun) lies?

  A bus dropped them off at a small depot in Wisconsin. The ticket-booth operator apologized that there would be no further runs west.

  “Why not? Is it the E-Con?”

  “No,” the operator said. “But we’re shutting down. The army is confiscating the company’s entire fleet for New England evacuations.”

  “Do you think the Eastern Coalition will attack Montana?”

  “I sell bus tickets, pal,” the operator said, almost angrily. Mestral merely nodded.

  Zee put his hand on his shoulder. “C’mon, we’re back to walking.”

  Over the next two days, they managed to hitchhike as far as Minnesota. The walk along Route 23 was aided by some decent weather. Mestral and Zee had worried on their way through Illinois that the laptop would be damaged by the drenching rain they’d slogged through for nearly two days. Mestral had always considered Earth a more pleasing planet, climate-wise, than Vulcan. He preferred the myriad types of weather and climate, the different landscapes Earth seemed to provide in limitless supply.

  Vulcan, on the other hand, was arid desert as far as the eye could see, punctuated by cities designed to blend into the surrounding landscape. Vulcan architecture was minimalist, at best, whereas Earth provided vistas one could study for years. Decades, even, Mestral thought.

  “Here comes another one,” Zee said aloud, disrupting his thoughts. Mestral turned to look behind them as a vehicle hummed around the bend. He’d heard it well before Zee had, of course, but his reverie had distracted him from his senses.

  Zee waved as the car sped past, but the driver showed no intention of slowing or stopping.

  “Never a Samaritan,” Zee mumbled.

  The ground began to vibrate. Mestral raised his eyebrows, and probed outward with his senses.

  “Something is coming,” he said.

  “What?”

  Zee heard a low whistle, building up as it got closer. Mestral shoved him aside, and they dove off the road as flaming debris shot down from above the trees. The wreckage of a fighter plane blown into a million pieces dug up the pavement. Zee looked up, but saw no sign of a pilot in a parachute.

  In the distance, they could hear heavy cracking of automatic gunfire rumbling that sounded as if it were coming closer.

  “We really have to learn to stay off of these highways,” Zee said.

  Mestral nodded. “Stay down,” he said. E-Con troops were obviously moving into Minnesota, meaning that the United States’ border defense had failed once more. More explosions thudded in the air, shaking the ground. They were getting closer; Zee could feel it in his teeth.

  “Those bastards,” Zee muttered. “What the hell!”

  Mestral turned to him. “China and America were the world’s last great superpowers,” he said. “It was bound to end in conflict. I just did not think the Coalition would be able to muster so much effort to attack the United States from both sides.”

  “I don’t think anyone did,” Zee replied. “We’ve never had to defend the Canadian border before.”

  Mestral decided now was the time to attempt humor. “Perhaps they should have come from Mexico, instead.” He smiled.

  Zee just shook his head. “Lame, Mike. Real lame.”

  Mestral nodded. Another plane came down out of the sky, punching a hole in the line of trees half a mile down the road. The trees went up in an instant, and the fire began to spread quickly into the forest.

  A line of army trucks, retreating from combat, came down the road headed in the same direction as the car a few minutes before. Zee jumped up and ran to the road, waving his arms.

  “Hey! Hey!” he shouted, desperately trying to flag one down. The first few trucks swerved around him, one coming dangerously close to tipping over onto the shoulder. One of the trucks ground to a halt, and the soldier driving shouted, “Get in, damn it!”

  Zee and Mestral climbed into the passenger side, and the driver took off.

  “You guys okay?” the driver asked.

  Zee and Mestral merely nodded. Zee looked into the side mirror and watched a truck at the end of the convoy get blown to bits.

  “Jesus!” he whispered almost involuntarily.

  “Hang on!”

  The driver spun the wheel and the truck tore off onto the shoulder as E-Con helicopters strafed the road up and down the convoy. More trucks exploded. The tires blew out on some. Zee watched one flip up into the air and slam down on the truck behind it. Bullets chewed the ground. The truck in front gunned forward, and threw pebbles that cracked the windshield protecting Zee and Mestral and their driver.

  The driver continued to swerve around, trying to avoid being hit. The convoy had quickly disintegrated from the loose mess it had already been, with everyone scrambling for themselves, not caring at all about the safety of those around them. Zee and Mestral held on tight, silently praising the skill of their driver.

  Missiles were loosed; explosions seemed to fill the entire world. Zee’s ears rang from the cacophony, but he wouldn’t let go of the dashboard to block them. To do so risked being flung forward, and a cracked skull was a less preferable option than temporary deafness. And he also had his laptop to think of. It was currently wedged between him and Mestral. If he were to move, the machine would probably drop to the truck’s floorboards.

  “This is insane!” Zee shouted. He wasn’t sure if the others heard him or not. Mestral did, but made no reply.

  From the left, a squadron of American helicopters burst over the trees, launching air-to-air missiles. They cut straight through the E-Con forces. Above them, a wing of fighter jets streaked across the sky, already diving into bombing runs on the enemy moving behind the shattered convoy.

  “Yes! Yes!”

  Mestral smiled.

  Zee whooped, and the driver started singing. Mestral didn’t recognize the song, not having grown up on the planet, but Zee clearly did and joined in.

  The truck drove on.

  They stopped at a makeshift army base where the military was herding refugees. A vast city of tents had been constructed for those that would be staying overnight, and the orange glow of campfires broke the darkness. The driver of the truck asked Zee and Mestral if they needed a doctor, but when they both shook their heads, he left them at the edge of the town.

  Zee checked on his laptop, and found it scratched and banged, but in perfect working order. Mestral stared at the tents, at all the people gathered around the fires, eating and talking.

  “I have to go,” he said.

  Zee grunted. “Yeah, me too. But it
wasn’t like I was going to ask that guy to pull over any time soon.”

  “No,” Mestral said, a bit louder. “I mean I’m leaving you.”

  “Why? We’re practically there.”

  “You have to go to Montana. Find Lily, and tell her I sent you. She’ll help you, I promise.”

  “You came this far…”

  “I know. I had a reason,” Mestral said. “But my people have had a rule, for a long time, about interfering in the lives of others.”

  Zee looked confused. Mestral didn’t blame him, but he wasn’t about to explain much further. “I’ve set you on a path we both believe is necessary,” he continued. “But you must finish it. It’s not my place to do it for you, or with you.” He pointed at the tents. “You have to do it alone, and you have to make sure that this doesn’t happen again.”

  “How can I…?”

  Mestral, a Vulcan, who never much liked physical contact, squeezed Zee’s shoulder. “What you have will change the world, if you want it to badly enough.”

  He turned and walked away from Zee, tightening his hood as he did. He walked away from the tents, away from the fires, and into the darkness of the woods. As he walked, he pulled his left hand away from his side, saw it covered slick with green blood, and pushed the pain out of his mind.

  Lily’s house was a simple one-floor prefab, a small but neat lawn out front, and a single-car garage. Zee tightened the strap on his backpack as he walked up to the front door and tried the bell. He didn’t hear anything, and after a moment, knocked solidly.

  The barrel of a shotgun pushed out of the mail slot, pointed at his groin.

  “Go away, or regret it,” a voice said.

  Zee took a step back. “I, uh, I’m looking for Lily Sloane?”

  The shotgun barrel moved slightly. “Who’s askin’?”

  “My name’s Cochrane. Zefram Cochrane. Michael sent me.”

  The gun disappeared. He heard the sound of the lock working, and the door swung open. Zee was presented with a small black woman with powerful eyes. She kept the gun pointed at him.

  “Michael? What Michael?”

  “I didn’t really get a last name. Uh, thin, kinda quiet, wears a hood, like, all the time…” His words drifted as he realized nervously that he’d given his faith, and safety, to someone he never really knew anything about.

  Lily smiled, and dropped the barrel away from Zee. “Is he with you?”

  “No. He, uh, he just said I should come see you.”

  “Why?”

  Zee hefted the backpack. “If you let me in, I’ll show you.” Lily stood aside, and Zee stepped into her home.

  “So,” he said, “Michael tells me you’re an aeronautical engineer.”

  “That’s right…” Lily said as she closed the door behind them.

  “Cool.”

  Speculations

  Remembering the Future

  Randy Tatano

  Picard’s face began to dissolve, as if melted by the bright light behind it. But it wasn’t sunlight. Rather, a rainbow of the most vivid colors Jim Kirk had ever seen melted into his vision; a prism that was pouring into his brain like rejuvenating lifeblood.

  “Oh my…”

  His pain dissolved away like Picard’s face. Suddenly every molecule in his body separated and was hurled forward into the color. Then the rainbow seemed to flow into his veins, invigorating him even more. He felt young, alive; even more alive than when he’d actually been young. He saw stars flying by, faster than any warp speed he could imagine.

  Then, in an instant, he arrived.

  The being that stood before him was awash in the color, as was Kirk.

  “Welcome home, James.”

  Kirk looked around, and saw that he was floating in the sea of color. He looked back at the being, who was smiling at him. It was female, he could tell, but not quite human. Tall and slender, long flowing hair of spun copper that seemed to float in slow motion. The emerald green eyes were larger than normal, but warm and inviting. He felt safe, as if his mind had been wrapped in a warm blanket.

  Kirk looked around and saw no one else. “Let me guess. I’m back in the Nexus?”

  “No, Jim, this isn’t the Nexus,” said the being, in a soothing voice that seemed to float toward him.

  Kirk didn’t care for his second guess. “So, I’m dead again?”

  “An interesting way of putting it, Jim, but for all intents and purposes, yes. Though you weren’t really dead before. The Nexus was just a brief detour from a normal existence.”

  Kirk stepped closer to the being. “Are you…God?”

  The being shook her head. “No, Jim. My name is Kariel. I was once a corporeal life-form like yourself. I have merely reached a stage of existence different from your own. One you may achieve in time. I am, for lack of a better term, your guide.”

  “And this place is…”

  “Heaven, the afterlife, whatever term you are comfortable with. It is your home for the next stage of your development.”

  “Development?”

  Kariel smiled at Kirk. “Too long to explain in a few minutes and it will come later as I lead you forward. But it is an answer best experienced a little at a time. You’ve lived quite an extraordinary life, James.” She seemed to look right into his soul.

  Kirk thought for a moment. His life had been extraordinary, career-wise. But personally…

  The being moved toward him. “Do not feel any regret about what might have been. Everyone wishes he could have changed some things about his or her own life. It never seems to work out exactly as we intended.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “That is why we give everyone the option to change one thing. To help erase whatever regret that may linger. We do not wish you to continue your development until you have gained closure regarding your previous existence. So you have the option, should you wish to exercise it.”

  Kirk furrowed his brow. His interest was definitely piqued. “Option? How does that work, exactly?”

  “It is a very simple decision, and you may take as much time as you wish to decide. You may conclude you are content with the way your life has turned out and continue with your development immediately, or you may use the option to change something and complete your previous existence.”

  “Complete my life?” he asked. “But you said I was dead.”

  She nodded. “Your corporeal existence, as you know it, is over. Yet you have the option of going back. For one thing.”

  “I did that in the Nexus. For a lot of things,” Kirk pointed out.

  “Ah, the Nexus. Quite the cosmic playground. But it is merely an illusion. What was it you said when you were riding that horse? How it no longer scared you because it wasn’t real?”

  “So this is…”

  “Real, Jim. And if you go back, everything you see and hear and feel will be real as well, even though it will be your past. There are no illusions here. Nor will there be any in your past.”

  Kirk looked around again. He saw no walls, no horizon. No boundaries of any kind. It was as if he and the being were the only two life-forms in the universe. “But if I go back and fix something, doesn’t that change history? Doesn’t that affect the lives of other people?”

  “Why do you assume changing history will be a bad thing?”

  “So there’s no such thing as fate?”

  Kariel nodded. “In a sense, fate exists. But fate and destiny are two very different things. Once a person decides the type of life he will lead, then yes, his destiny is set. In your case, you knew early on you wanted to be an explorer and to help people. Nothing could change your destiny from that point. But you had the free will to decide what kind of life you would lead, what path you would take to fulfill your destiny. You did so as a starship captain.”

  It was too much all at once. Kirk looked around again. The beauty of the place was intoxicating, the colors seeming to bloom in an instant. So vibrant…

  “There are no rules when it comes
to history, James. Destiny, yes, but not history.”

  The being was speaking in riddles. If only Spock were here to sort this out logically. “I’m not sure I understand,” said Kirk.

  “You can be destined for greatness, yet find many different paths to achieve it. History also has many paths leading to the same result.”

  Kirk was beginning to understand. If he could just…

  Kariel moved forward and took his hands in her own. They were warm and incredibly soft, seemingly melting into his own. For the first time he detected the scent of roses as she leaned forward. “James, there is one relationship you’ve always wondered about. One path you might have taken that has always haunted you….”

  Kirk realized the being could read his mind. “I’ve always wondered…if there was just a little more time…”

  “There is a little more time. If you choose.”

  “If I go back, can I…”

  “As I said, James, there are no rules when it comes to history. Nothing you do will change what you are, only what you’ve experienced.”

  “No rules.”

  “None.”

  It went against everything he ever believed about time travel and changing history.

  To hell with the Prime Directive. The galaxy owes me one.

  He glanced down at the being’s hands; so delicate, the four fingers so perfectly formed. Then back at Kariel’s eyes. The look was soft and understanding. “Then I want to go back. But first, I need to go back before I was born. Is that possible?”

  She nodded and smiled again. “I see you haven’t forgotten the Kobayashi Maru. I was told you’d be a bit different.”

  “So can I…?”

  “You can change one thing. It doesn’t matter how long it takes you to accomplish this.” Kariel closed her eyes and bowed her head. She reached up and touched Kirk on the forehead. “It is done.”

  Kirk saw the truck speeding toward Edith Keeler as she crossed the street. McCoy started to run after her, but Kirk was younger and faster. He dashed into the road, and in one motion wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to the ground as the truck raced by.