Solomon's Arrow

by J. Dalton Jennings

  “But what about the people of New Terra?” Bram asked. “Thousands will die if I decide to take this course of action.”

  “This vile creature is bluffing … and even if it isn’t, what choice do you have?”

  “Is there no other way?”

  “I am waiting for your answer, Mr. Waters,” Athena said, impatiently. “Your stall tactics are becoming tiresome. You will agree to my terms within the next five seconds or another group of your fellow humans will die.”

  “Your strength is nearly depleted,” Argus cautioned. “We see no other way to defeat this mechanical menace.”

  “Perhaps after I push her through the foldway, I can somehow warn the people …”

  “One …”

  “You do not understand, Bram. You will be accompanying the creature into the dimension between time and space, not pushing her through the foldway.”

  “Two …”

  “What? But, won’t I be trapped in there with her?”

  “Three …”

  “You must trust us on this matter.”

  “Four …”

  “Fine, if we’re gonna do this, it’s gotta be done now!”

  In the split second between that thought and the end of Athena’s countdown, Bram felt his mind link with the fungal entity and open a foldway behind Athena. The next second, his mind wrapped itself around Athena and her throne. As the realization of what was taking place dawned in his adversary’s eyes, Bram launched himself forward, pushing both him and Athena through the shimmering foldway and into the golden void between dimensions. Once through the foldway, it immediately closed behind them.

  Athena glanced around in surprise.

  Bram mentally yanked his body backward off her blades. A tortured scream sprang from his lips. Blood gushed from both wounds. Despite his pain, Bram sensed the bubble of oxygen that formed around him. Without it he wouldn’t be able to breathe or hear his own agonized voice, the void being airless.

  He was on the verge of asking Argus what their next move should be, when he heard, “You must finish the rest of this on your own, Bram.” The old man’s presence was fading quickly. “We can allow absolutely no avenue of escape for the mechanical creature. We must retreat to the world of the living as rapidly as possible. Good luck.”

  Without waiting to hear his objections, or even say goodbye, Argus vanished from Bram’s mind, which resulted in a crushing sense of deprivation. Despite being able to clearly see Athena floating not more than ten feet away, he’d never felt so completely and utterly alone. His first time being trapped in the void was in the company of Solomon and Argus, but this time it contained nothing besides him and a soulless, lifeless, mechanical being. Admittedly, the AI was comprised of atoms, and even those atoms were part of life, but there was no real consciousness residing in its twisted, mental latticework. She was a mechanical construct, and therefore not truly alive. Even while Bram slogged alone through the Canadian wilderness he was surrounded by life, but here, he sensed nothing …

  Wait. There was something—some faint trace of consciousness—all around him, close to him, yet tremendously far away. Whatever it was felt benevolent, nonjudgmental, dispassionate, and perhaps what he might even describe as loving …

  Could it be, Bram wondered? Had his distractions been stripped away so completely that he sensed the fundamental consciousness of the universe? The Ground of All Being? His intuition told him yes, but he also sensed that this Entity possessed such an unshakable lack of judgment that whatever the outcome, it would not intervene on his behalf.

  Then again, perhaps his air bubble was running out of oxygen and he was imagining things.

  Turning his attention back to Athena, he saw her mouth moving and realized she was trying to say something. Without any atmosphere to carry the sound waves, it was nearly impossible for him to understand what she was saying. Pointing first to his lips and then his ears, Bram shook his head and shrugged.

  With one eyebrow raised in amusement, Athena nodded and made an attempt to move in his direction. Nothing happened. She was stuck in one spot. Not having anything to push against, her attempt to move through the void was stymied. Her amusement turned to anger. Lifting her right arm, her hand once again formed into a blade, which shot toward Bram at lightning speed.

  He could have sworn his life was about to end. However, just as his heart was leaping into his throat, Bram managed to dodge the spear-like thrust. He’d shifted position by will alone. Athena’s other arm shot out toward him.

  This time, Bram moved backwards, stopping only when Athena’s arm came to a halt. He felt incredibly lightheaded. Seeing droplets of blood from his earlier wounds floating inside the bubble of air, Bram knew he couldn’t last much longer. If he passed out, Athena would have a clear shot at killing him—and kill him she would. Shaking out the cobwebs, he observed the malevolent monstrosity retract her arms in preparation for another assault.

  A look of concern crossed Athena’s face. After a quick glance around at the void, she focused her attention on her arms and then her chest.

  At first glance, Bram failed to notice anything unusual, but as Athena examined more parts of her body, he saw a transformation: her outer layer was discoloring, turning to dust. Reaching out, she grabbed hold of the throne, which was floating just behind her, and absorbed it back into her body, causing her size to increase. The dust was growing thicker all around her. Athena appeared frantic. Each movement of her body triggered the outer layer of dust to shake loose and float away, and in so doing, the atomic bonds holding each speck intact began to dissolve. Athena was disintegrating into the void.

  Bram knew this would be his own fate if he stayed much longer. And yet, he didn’t dare risk creating a foldway until every nanobotic molecule had been absorbed by the void. He’d rather die than loose such a dangerous technology upon the universe.

  His shoulders were throbbing fiercely, the pain taking its toll. He wondered if he had enough reserve strength to hold out, much less create a foldway.

  Athena lunged at him again, stretching out further than before. Her body distorted, changing into a sinuous, flowing mass. She drew the trailing end forward, allowing her to move away from her previous position. The elongated mass began to undulate, creating its own inertia to close the distance between her and Bram. She’d learned how to move about through the void.

  Seeing this, Bram’s heart rate increased, causing even more blood to seep from his wounds. His anxiety spiked even higher as Athena lunged once again. This time when he dodged, she sent another extremity around to meet him from the rear. Bram failed to perceive the threat with his eyes, though his psychic awareness did provide enough warning to barely avoid being impaled. Not letting up, she attacked again … and again … and yet again.

  Bram willed himself farther away, well out of reach, yet she kept advancing. As Athena drew closer, her outer layers boiled off in clouds of dust. In pursuing Bram, she was exposing more of herself to the ravages of the void, stretching herself thin. Realizing this, she amplified her attack, determined to kill Bram before her existence came to an end.

  Despite his exhaustion, Bram avoided each thrust, each fake. The more she fought to destroy him, the faster she shrank. Finally, in frustrated defeat, she drew herself in, retracting into a ball no more than five feet in diameter. The nanobotic material continued to boil away in every direction. Bram peered closer, watching through the rapidly dispersing fog of dust, as the ball continued to shrink. He was so intent on seeing the last of Athena disintegrate into the void that he failed to realize he was floating closer to her position.

  A small piece of the dwindling ball shot from the cloud like a bullet. Before Bram could react, the pellet struck the edge of his air bubble. As it did, he created a psychic shield strong enough to prevent the pellet from entering, yet not strong enough to push it entirely away. The small piece of nanobotic material was flattening out, while at the same time boiling away.

  Bram jerked in surprise
when he heard the voice of Athena. She was using the air inside his protective bubble to send him one last message. “You only think you have won, Mr. Waters. My plan will—” and then the thin film of material turned to dust, loosed its hold on the air bubble, and dispersed into the void. What remained of the mighty Athena, Lord of New Terra, joined her disintegrating self; the last of her subatomic bonds dissolved as she faded into nothingness.

  Bram wondered what her words meant, but only for a moment. He attributed them to the final, desperate ravings of a demented, mechanical mind. What he really wanted was to leap for joy, but he was floating in a never-ending void, so he would save that for later—if there was a later. Gasping for what little air remained in the protective bubble, he sent out a psychic probe, searching for any trace of nanobotic material. He found none.

  Bram’s vision wavered, a sign that he was starving for oxygen. He also tasted blood. He must be inhaling some of the droplets floating in the air bubble. He hoped he didn’t pass out before he managed to open a foldway.

  He knew where he wanted to go, if only he had the energy to make it happen. Concentrating as best he could, Bram made his first attempt.

  Nothing.

  Shaking his head, he felt his mind growing increasingly foggy, both from lack of oxygen and the pain from his grievous wounds.

  He tried again and again, but nothing happened.

  Swimming through his mind was a ghastly scene, his body tearing apart at the seams. Bram knew he must calm himself and cut through the fog, or his life would soon be over. He wanted to contact Argus, but that was impossible. He sensed nothing—an infinite, frightening nothing, with absolutely no connection to the material world.

  And then, he remembered.

  There was a connection! A dispassionate, nonjudgmental consciousness was linked to the fabric of this nothingness, this seemingly infinite void. But would that unbiased consciousness notice his plight? Would it care enough to provide him with the help he needed?

  Bram knew in his very soul there was only one way to find that out: he needed to establish a psychic connection with The Ground of All Being and hopefully achieve oneness. He would then do a thing he hadn’t done in decades—he would pray, and in so doing, hope beyond hope that his prayer was not said in vain.

  •

  Lost in thought, Gloria sat in the Arrow’s mess hall, fingering the nutrient bar she’d ordered. It had been three hours since the ship left orbit, and the consensus was that Bram had succeeded in his mission. According to the computer, they were not being pursued by a nanobotic horde. This knowledge gave her little comfort. Bram was trapped back on New Terra, and she would never see him again.

  Floyd Sullivant sat across the table, talking about something, but she wasn’t listening. The two of them, along with Commander Allison and a few others seated at separate tables, were the only crew present. Their food supply was being rationed; as a result, she found herself trying to eat a rock-hard nutrient bar, accompanied by a chalky-tasting, vanilla-flavored, protein shake. Not the most appetizing meal to spark a conversation. After her debriefing and a quick sonic shower, she’d considered taking her food ration to her quarters and holing up for a few hours but changed her mind. She wasn’t the most sociable individual on the bests of days, but on this day she wanted company, despite having paid little attention to her dinner companion.

  “I don’t understand how it’s possible,” Floyd said, his large, blocky face appearing perplexed. “Can you explain it, Gloria?”

  She’d barely heard the question. “Explain what?”

  “I guess I’ve been talking to myself this whole time,” he said with a sigh, looking frustrated. “I was asking about Bram. How was it possible that he ran so fast? It’s bloody inhuman. I mean, it was one thing for him to read minds, but to run faster than a cheetah? It doesn’t make any sense. Maybe he was an alien, or that mushroom fellow injected him with some sort of—”

  “Please, Floyd! Just drop it, okay?” She couldn’t stand hearing Bram spoken of in the past tense. It hurt too much.

  Relatively speaking, she hadn’t known him long … and yet, it was like she’d known him her entire life. When they reconnected at the prelaunch party and she subsequently took him to bed, she’d felt an immediate connection with the unusual American, one that she’d never felt before. It pained her to think that their relationship would be cut short. She shook her head. Had she fallen in love? Falling in love wasn’t in her make-up. Even if it were true, it was over and done with. She had to refocus and concentrate on her job. She’d simply put up another wall to hide her pain and immerse herself in her work, just as she’d done so many times in the past.

  “I can see you’d rather be alone, Lieutenant,” Floyd said, sounding hurt. “I’ll finish my meal with—” Springing to his feet, he stared over her shoulder, eyes wide with shock. “What the?”

  Gloria was caught off-guard by his behavior. Others were also staring. That’s when she heard a sizzling, crackling hum directly behind her. Spinning in her seat, she gazed uncomprehendingly at a spot less than four feet away, where a tiny, glowing rift was forming in midair.

  With a gasp of fear, she tried to back away from the bewildering event, but the table blocked her path. Poised half out of her seat, she watched as the rift grew larger. A strange golden glow emanated from its ragged opening, causing it to appear otherworldly.

  She heard Commander Allison shout for everyone to move away from the rift as quickly as possible, but she was frozen in place, captivated by its ethereal beauty. As she stared in wonder, something unbelievable occurred: a body fell headfirst out of the rift and landed with a thud on the mess hall floor. In the next instant, the rift disappeared.

  A loud clamor ensued as she stared down at the figure lying on the floor. She could barely believe her eyes: Bram was alive! He lay on his back gasping for air, blood seeping from deep wounds to both shoulders. Gloria suddenly found herself crouched by his side, cradling his head, shouting for help. Commander Allison was yelling into his Bluetooth, ordering Dr. Singh to the mess hall. Floyd was standing nearby, staring down in shock at his wounded friend, his mouth gaping open.

  Bram gazed blearily into Gloria’s tearful yet joyous eyes, offered a weak smile, and muttered, “It’s done. We’re safe.”

  32

  TEN AND A HALF YEARS LATER … IN RELATIVE TERMS

  Hearing the door slide open behind him, Richard knew who had stepped aboard the Arrow’s bridge. He kept his focus on the view screen before him and said, “Good morning, Admiral. I hope you’re feeling well.”

  Admiral Katherine Axelrod placed her hands behind her back and said, “As well as can be expected, Commander. Thank you.”

  Giving her a sidelong glance, Richard saw that her skin still held an ashen pallor, and her eyes were still sunken, showing a hint of dark circles through the heavy cosmetics.

  He turned his attention back to the view screen. “It sure doesn’t look like the Earth we left.”

  With a sigh, the Admiral shook her head. The ship had established orbit a mere seven hours earlier. Most of that time had been spent surveying the planet’s altered topography. The polar icecap was missing, along with most of the planet’s glaciers and a significant portion of the ice covering Antarctica. Their disappearance had caused the coastlines to recede and the shape of the continents to look vastly different, compared to the last time they saw them while departing for the Epsilon Eridani star system. The other stark difference was the complete lack of city lights on the planet’s dark side. During the ship’s initial approach, they’d studied the Earth as it spun on its axis and noticed that every continent was dark. It was a spooky sight to behold. At first glance they assumed the human race had been wiped off the planet, but after undertaking a more detailed survey, they discovered small pockets of human activity scattered across the globe. This brought about a collective sigh of relief, coupled with significant consternation: Lt. Julie Norwood—the ship’s communications officer—had been
trying to establish a line of communication between the ship and a groundside pocket of humanity. So far, her efforts had proved fruitless.

  “We can still decant Bram Waters, sir,” Richard said, lowering his voice. “His abilities would serve us well about now.”

  She appeared perturbed by his comment. “We’ll continue with our present efforts to establish a line of communication and send down a landing party if we receive no response. Mr. Waters had barely recovered from his injuries when he was placed in cryo-sleep. I think we can handle this situation ourselves. Besides, his abilities need to be studied further. We need to devise a way to contain him, in case he decides to use his abilities for his own personal gain.”

  She had a point, Richard thought. Everyone onboard the Arrow owed Bram their lives, but he wasn’t a saint. Anyone with that much power might be tempted to exploit the weaknesses of others. But from what Richard already knew of Bram, he would never do such a thing. He could have used his powers to make himself rich beyond his wildest dreams yet chose to use his talent to help others. He wasn’t a threat; however, the admiral was probably right about one thing: they could do without his help … for now.

  “From our observations, Admiral,” Richard said, changing the subject, “it looks as though the largest pocket of humanity is located in Nepal, strangely enough.”

  “I believe we can safely assume that America was destroyed during the Yellowstone caldera disaster,” she replied. “After consulting with the geology department, I was informed that the rest of the world fell into an extended Dark Age soon after America’s collapse. It would make sense that Nepal, being a remote region of the world, would be less affected by the catastrophe.”

  Months earlier, Admiral Axelrod had been decanted from her cryo-chamber, and, after a long, taxing cycle of therapy sessions, her status as ship’s commander had been reinstated. Richard was relieved. He’d conducted himself admirably in her absence, but it wasn’t the same without her strength of will overseeing the ship. Even so, he was worried. She hadn’t looked well over the preceding few days. He’d suggested she report for a medical checkup, but she’d yet to follow through, claiming she was much too busy with last-minute details.