by Gavin Chait
Samara opens a channel to the Five. ‘I don’t know how much longer we can hold them. We’re not regenerating energy from the detonations fast enough to keep up. There’s still more than two-thirds of the drones inside Tartarus, and we calculate we’ll run out with a quarter to go.’
‘The other cities know. We’re all burying ourselves deeper in the debris field. Achenia should be inside in about ten minutes.’
‘Do you think that will work?’
‘No,’ says Hollis. ‘We need more time.’
‘They’re figuring you out,’ says The Three.
‘We know,’ says Samara. The channel goes blank as a series of explosions sever the connection.
This blast is too close to the umbilical. The asteroid counterweight flings out, dragging a trailing cable behind it. Beneath, the remaining tether plunges towards the distant planet.
‘Amaranth, have you found them yet?’ Samara asks when he can speak again.
‘Yes, but we’re still struggling to get direct communication.’
Commander Eristavi and eleven others are huddled awkwardly in an angular space, partly in the corridor and spreading into open cells. Pinprick observers are gathering around them, and Samara can see the tense fatigue in the marines’ posture. They are locked together and propped against the walls to prevent them floating.
As the observers gather, the marines start moving. Relief on faces behind sweat-smeared helmets.
‘Try now,’ says Amaranth.
‘Commander Eristavi, can you hear me?’ asks Samara.
Eristavi nods enthusiastically. ‘The sound is fuzzy, but we can hear,’ he grins. ‘Can you get us out?’
‘There’s a force field around Tartarus. The drones can get out but nothing can get in. We need you to help us turn it off.’
‘What about the fleet? Where are they?’
Samara is silent. He shakes his head.
‘I’m sorry, Commander. The drones have wiped them out. We’re the only ones left.’
Eristavi’s face sags. ‘That can’t be?’
‘Commander, I’m sorry. We don’t have time. We’re being overwhelmed. We need you to shut down the force field.’
‘What happens then?’
‘We will block the drones inside Tartarus. We think more than half are still there. Once they’re without a target they should deactivate. They won’t take the risk of detonating. Even if they do, they’ll be bunched up and create a chain reaction that will destroy all of them. If we do that, we should have enough strength to destroy the drones out here.’
‘And us?’
Samara says nothing.
Eristavi looks at the faces of his marines. Their eyes are indistinct behind the lenses of their helmets. He can see enough.
‘What happens if we don’t succeed?’
‘The drones will attack the orbital cities and millions of people will die.’
‘What must we do?’
‘Thank you,’ says Samara. ‘We think we’ve identified the shield energy systems. Our observers can disable it, but it’s behind a mechanical lock. We’ll need you to open it for them.’
Eristavi nods, and the marines follow the glowing observers through the silent network of tunnels.
‘We need to switch,’ says Cičak.
The drones are evading the trio attacks and cutting through their defences faster after each series of detonations. The drones attempt to tear their target apart through sticking to the outside and creating chained nuclear explosions. The Nine’s strategy is simple: form abstract shapes and then use their energy to project a semi-physical illusion of large attack craft which the drones then ‘destroy’. The drones have already understood and countered the nature of the single and double illusions. Once they figure out the triples, the Nine will need to restructure.
‘We have to hold until the shields are down. I won’t survive for long on my own,’ says Samara.
Minutes drag. The Nine are being battered by the persistent volume of drones. Blue rainbow halos around white flares.
‘We’re here.’
Eristavi has reached the hatch, an old-fashioned hand wheel at its centre. As it swings open, the observers fly into a large room filled with a vast fusion generator.
‘It’s beautiful,’ says one of the marines.
Inside the stellarator it is hotter than the sun. Outside, its grey cladding is banded in thick, copper-coloured superconductor.
‘Commander Eristavi,’ says Samara. ‘Once the shields are down and I seal the exits, some of those drones will explode, and Tartarus is going to break apart.’
‘We understand,’ he says. ‘Do it now.’
Symon triggers the observers, and the console lights flicker and fade.
‘I was expecting it to blow up,’ says one of the marines. ‘What do we do now?’ she asks.
Eristavi smiles and nods. ‘We think of those we love, and we wait.’
Samara’s trio disperses as the force field vanishes. Cičak and Fodiar split and head for the other trios, while Samara flies for Tartarus.
As Fodiar joins Alegrya’s team, they restructure as a quad, with ion lenses now firing out of four sides. The new form rattles the drones, and they hold back.
Cičak is too slow. As she nears Vakhsh’s trio, a drone fastens on to her leg. She shakes it, but the sticky resin flows over her calf.
The explosion tears her leg off and flings her into Vakhsh and Kouhei. Her battleskin flows closed over the stump as she screams in frustration.
‘Stop being such a zbabělec,’ says Kouhei. ‘It’ll grow back.’
‘But I liked that leg,’ says Cičak, joining them in the quad.
It is the drones’ turn for retreat as they struggle to adapt to the quad attacks.
‘You’re only going to have five to ten minutes,’ says Fodiar.
Samara is nearing the first of the vents. He fires into it and the exiting drone explodes. He can see a chain reaction of explosions down the tube. Drones are already responding, predicting what he will do and blockading the other vents.
Drones are almost on him as he vanishes.
[They’re still tracking you.]
He fires into another vent, and another cascade of explosions ripples back into Tartarus.
[Three to go.]
A drone dives for him and misses. It detonates nearby, smashing him down and into an open vent. The following drones are extremely close together and others explode across the surface. The final three vents are shattered, trapping the drones inside.
‘He did it. They’re stopping,’ shouts Amaranth.
The remaining drones regroup and begin a final assault on the two quads. They are slower, their mesh intelligence fading rapidly as their numbers dwindle.
[I can’t raise Symon.]
‘That was a huge blast. It’s either the electromagnetic disruption, or he’s unconscious.’
[Look.]
The last blue coronas are fading around them. Below, Tartarus is moving out of alignment. As they watch, it begins to fall.
‘Find Samara,’ as Amaranth flies towards the retreating station.
Fodiar opens a channel to the Five.
‘We’ve stopped them. They’re now sealed inside Tartarus and appear to have gone dormant again, but the station is falling. Can you calculate where it will land so we can warn anyone on the ground?’
Hollis looks as if she will weep with relief. ‘At once. Thank you. Are all of you safe?’
‘We’re trying to find Samara, but we’re all still with you.’
‘Can you lift Tartarus?’
‘No, we’re almost out of power. We might be able to nudge it if we need, but we’re done.’
‘I’ll get back to you, but we might not have an answer until it clears the debris field.’
Tartarus is unshielded, and the debris is perforating the outer shell of the station. It begins to twist chaotically as it falls, gaining rotation and momentum.
Samara wakes up somewhere ins
ide the station. Metal walls batting him along a corridor.
[Looks like we got caught in one of the pipes.]
‘Symon, can you tell where we are?’
[No. And we don’t have enough power to blast our way out.]
‘Can we raise the others?’
The remaining Nine have clustered together and are combining their vestigial energy to form a shield as they follow Tartarus down through the debris.
‘Samara, you’re safe,’ grins Cičak as Symon connects to her.
‘You’ve got a terrible definition of “safe”,’ he says.
‘I lost a leg, so don’t complain.’
‘It’ll grow back.’
Tartarus is a blur as it spins. Samara wedges himself in a corridor to stop being flung like so much detritus.
‘We can’t do anything till we clear the debris, and we’re not going to have long when we do. We figure less than an hour. That’s if Tartarus hasn’t broken apart by then,’ says Cičak.
Samara, holding himself still against the violent shaking, ‘We have to slow it down. The force when it hits the ground will cause massive earthquakes, tidal waves. It could kill millions –’
‘The Five are talking to the Americans. We’re not sure what they can do,’ says Amaranth.
‘This is the second time I’ve fallen. I really don’t recommend it.’
Samara is quiet as the others follow behind in the wake of the plummeting station. Eventually, ‘Please don’t transmit this. Shakiso – I can’t –’
Amaranth hugs him through the connect.
A lower part of the station tears off and shatters in the blasting stream of the debris. A few drones amongst the many trapped and dormant inside are thrown out. Before they have a chance to orientate, debris detonates them. The explosion pushes Tartarus into a wider arc and opens a gaping crack that propagates up and to the centre.
As they emerge from the debris field, Tartarus cleaves in two.
‘We’re clear. Samara, the orbital cities are safe, but we’ve got twenty-five minutes before we hit the atmosphere,’ says Fodiar.
‘He’s in the bigger piece,’ says Vakhsh.
The remaining Nine surround the metal hulk. Samara can use their locations to orientate himself.
[Got it. The spin is fairly regular, but it’s going to be messy.]
Samara braces himself as he moves. The tunnels are twisted, and cabling and metal fragments hammer into him.
‘I don’t mean to disturb you, but you’re going to need to hurry,’ says Fodiar. ‘We’ve had a message from Hollis. The Americans have fired four nukes our way. Looks like they want to destroy the evidence before Tartarus hits Earth’s atmosphere.’
‘How long?’
‘About seven minutes.’
Dimples in the walls growing larger as he follows this corridor.
[Debris damage. We’re getting closer.]
As he nears the outer skin, the metal is a frayed lattice, like matted cobweb. Samara slices his way through, watching as his energy levels drop.
‘I’m at the outer surface and I’m cutting through now. I won’t have any energy left when I jump.’
There is no time to get far enough away from the nuclear blast. He will need shielding.
‘We’re here,’ says Kouhei.
[Ready?]
Samara leaps out. He spirals, his arc widening. There is no energy to stop his momentum.
The missiles are visible as burning dots speeding towards them.
‘Got you,’ says Fodiar, as the Nine close into a single form.
A soundless, searing light obliterates Tartarus.
53
‘Very well,’ says President Ortega.
‘We have not broadcast our involvement. No one will know. It is up to you how you spin this,’ says Hollis.
Ortega is alone in his office. Hollis’s telepresence transmission sits across from him. Its translucence makes him feel slight vertigo. The illusion is not quite perfect, and he can see the chair through her back. He finds Hollis’s ambiguously shifting gender just as disorientating and is never sure how he should respond.
He stands uncomfortably and looks out the window, his back to Hollis.
‘I am deeply sorry. I would not have this be your memory of us,’ he says.
Hollis says nothing.
‘We’re telling everyone that there was an explosion and that Tartarus began to fall. In a heroic mission, our marines rescued all the prisoners and brought them home. There were casualties, including the sacrifice of the fleet that prevented Tartarus destroying our cities, but we never leave anyone behind.’
Hollis joins him at the window, looking out on the lawns. It is a beautiful bright blue day.
‘You can use this,’ she says.
‘What?’
‘We don’t have a monopoly on dreaming. Inspire people. Explore again.’
Even as she says it, she can see Ortega is not the man to lead that.
She smiles sadly. ‘Farewell, President Ortega.’ Her projection vanishes.
Ortega stands alone in the window looking at the sky.
54
‘Father! Father, are they here yet?’ Isaiah jumping up and down, no longer able to contain his excitement and impatience.
‘Soon, my son, soon.’ Joshua grins at the boy, feeling a similar sense of expectation.
There are a group of them, standing under the trees outside the north gate of Ewuru. Each of them is wearing new clothes received as gifts from Samara. Joshua has had time to get used to their weight and the mysterious way they self-fasten, but Gideon and Daniel look very uneasy. They pinch the fabric every few moments, verifying that they are, indeed, dressed.
Esther, her slender body caressed in her subtly textured aso oke dress, looks more beautiful now than on the day he first fell in love with her. He grips her hand tightly, pulling her closer and kissing her gently on the top of her head.
She looks up at him, smiling, and rests her head back against his shoulder.
Daniel’s daughters are laughing and running around in circles, playing tag, Hannah doing her best to keep them clean. Fortunately, the fabric seems immune to dust.
A bright reflection in the sky and, almost too quickly, a large teardrop-shaped craft is settling in the clearing along the path. It makes no sound.
Hundreds have gathered outside the walls and all along the runway at the top to watch. There is a massed range of gasps and exclamations as the canopy of the spacecraft shimmers and vanishes, a staircase appearing in the air and touching down on the road.
Joshua grins again. He is thrilled to share this wonder with his people.
A woman in a pale-blue eggshell-coloured dress stands, walks down the stairs and up the path towards them. Esther has a moment to wonder if Achenian fashions are going to be all the rage as soon as the designers get back to their studios in the market.
The woman walks up to Joshua, smiling with her entire being, puts her hand out as if to shake, changes her mind and throws herself into his arms in an enthusiastic hug.
‘You’re Joshua,’ she beams. ‘I’m so pleased to meet you. Everyone is so looking forward to meeting you.’ She is bubbling, the words chasing each other. Turning to Esther and hugging her too, ‘Esther, you are so beautiful.’
She hugs her way through the group. She knows all of them, and her obvious delight dissipates the apprehension of even the most nervous. She finishes her greetings by flinging each of the children up and swinging them around. They scream with pleasure.
[Wait, wait. You haven’t told them yet.]
Seeming to recover herself, she puts a hand to her flushed face and says, ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m Kaolin.’
Joshua realizes there is no way to tell the ages of any of the Achenians, but the girl seems so young.
‘I will be escorting you to the ceremony. Samara sends his greetings, and he is waiting for you there, but he cannot leave Achenia today.’ She breaks away from what is obviously a prepared scr
ipt and says, ‘None of the Nine can leave today, so he’s really quite sad he can’t be here.’
Then she is laughing again and herding them along the path and up the stairs into the waiting craft. Behind the pilot’s seat is a wide area, tapering to the rear and filled with flowing, sculpted sofas against the walls.
‘Please sit anywhere and,’ she indicates a small basket, ‘you’ll need those. Two for each of you.’
David picks up the basket, looking at the tiny white foamy nodules in confusion. Do we eat them, he wonders.
Kaolin demonstrates, placing a nodule in each ear. ‘There will be many different languages today. We have guests coming in from all over the world. This is a translator. It will feel a little strange for a few moments, but you’ll forget it’s there.’
They begin helping themselves, Gideon assisting a laughing Miriam to insert hers, Abishai kissing Edith as she settles one and then the other. Joshua helps Isaiah with his and then places one in his ear; it feels slippery and changes shape. She is right, though, as after a moment he has to consciously remember that it is there.
‘Now, if you’ll sit comfortably, we’ll reach Achenia in six hours,’ taking her seat as the canopy shimmers and returns.
[Wait, wait.]
‘Oh,’ she says. ‘There’s a toilet at the back of the craft should you need, and there are drinks and snacks in the little cupboard behind my seat.’
The craft lifts, thousands of hands waving and people cheering from all along the walls and streets inside Ewuru. The walls of the craft are transparent, and they are able to look out and see the land shrinking below, the sky growing above.
They are all there. Gideon and Miriam, resplendent in matching dashiki. Daniel, Hannah and the two girls. Abishai and Edith, holding hands tightly. David and Sarah, wrapped around each other and staring intently at Ewuru, dwindling in the distance. Jason and Leah, chosen – with some resistance – as his partner only a few days before. Isaiah, standing with his hands flat against the clear walls, his face alight with the thrill; Esther behind him, cuddling him close. Joshua, sitting in the warmth of his love for this small gathering.
The yellow light of the day gives way rapidly to twilight, and the Earth is rosetted against the sun. From here, they are not the first to remark in wonder at the grandeur and spectacle of the planet.
