by Ellen Mint
“That’s…” Nolan’s scales shifted, a pink-peach color spreading across his body and blending away the pattern I grew used to. The human wash didn’t fully reach his face, so it looked like a human wore an alien mask as he prodded at a console. “Difficult to determine from here. I could try to intercept a satellite and…”
“That’s okay,” I said, cupping my hand over his. “I doubt it’ll matter either way.”
I left the night my entire lab was ripped apart. Even if it was still operational, even if I wasn’t instantly fired for seeming to vanish along with the new post-doc, how could I return? Back to being a single cog endlessly rotating its teeth clockwise amongst the massive gears and levers of an industry that didn’t know my name and didn’t care if I lived or died. Every tick was ignored until it wasn’t there, then the gear was held responsible for every fault. But was the gear rewarded when the chimes rang out on the hour? No, that went to the face, the hands, the pealing bells.
“I wanted to make a name for myself,” I said, digging my hands into my crossed elbows. “It’s why I began down this road. Every paper came with caveats, every new discovery with the assumption it was another’s hand behind the wheel. I know science isn’t lone wolves with labs in their basements. But to be recognized for a real achievement would mean…”
“Trini.” He curled a finger against my cheek, pushing back the hair that frizzed in this dry air. I tried to ignore the touch, the gentle glide of his skin against mine, the tender tuck behind my ear. I’d have to forget it all to take that last step forward.
Why was this impossible?
A complex problem: I, a human, wanted to remain in space with a man the universe considered unwanted. But if we were ever caught, I risked death or erasure of my mind. And he, being who he was born to be, would invite constant scrutiny from law enforcement. The probability of escaping so many checks for fifty or sixty years was infinitesimal.
I only had a minute or two to solve it.
P cannot equal NP. That had to be what the Tank told Shiban. What she’d input into the galactic bank and make a fortune on. The universe was a continuous mass of entropy, every object created destined to be destroyed. Every civilization, building, atom, regardless of the energy spent shaping it into something more than its parts, would one day scatter into pieces across all of space.
Unless…
“Forgive me for telling you my foolish plans,” Nolan spoke beside me but I barely listened, my mind churning with possibilities. “I should not have put the idea out there. Settling down on a planet in another species form? It was a momentary blindness. Exhaustion from this race of always having to outthink and outsmart the people trained to do the same to me.”
But if one were to create an algorithm designed specifically to…
“People of my cut do not earn a happy ending. I should know that by now.”
Oh my God. That’s it!
“The answer,” I shouted, bouncing on my heels and raising my hands for the winning goal. “I’ve got it.”
Nolan sighed. “It’s impossible for me to return to a human body and yours cannot handle a…”
“No, the answer,” I sputtered, spinning to a console. At my touch, it kindly switched to rudimentary English and Python. “The whole reason we’re here,” I kept on while digging into my pocket. The small disc from my Think Tank kidnapper rested safely in my palm.
“How? What?” Nolan whipped his head around.
“I’ve been staring at the problem too linearly. Which is stupid, since it’s a fractal problem to begin with and…” My words faded from my tongue as I prodded at the console, inputting all the data downloaded from my brain. The computer, in trying to be helpful, displayed it in place of the windows—including the naked image of Nolan’s human form.
He shifted uncomfortably on his back-bent legs, while I pushed it away from the data stream without a second thought. I had work to do.
“What is all of this?”
“My old research getting the kick in the ass it needs, finally,” I said, my fingers flying over the keyboard that learned from me. Over the past days of work, it developed new keys with a combination of letters I most often used. And it would helpfully place them closer when it assumed I wanted them. Damn, I wish I had this on Earth.
“How did you get this? Did you steal it from the Kirkan?” He turned to me, awe rising at my assumed nimble fingers.
I scrunched my nose and tried to dive deeper into the work. “Not exactly. I got kidnapped by one of the Think Tank members, who turned out to be human.”
“You met a member…? You know a name!” Nolan cried out, his hands rising to the sides of his head as if to plug the pointed ears beside the tendrils.
“She thought I was there to take her job, as if I don’t have enough problems already. When I said I wasn’t, she agreed to let me at least download all of this from my brain.”
“Trini, merciful… You can never tell anyone that. Any of it! To know a member of the Think Tank is to invite death from every corner of the galaxy.” The color of his scales dripped away, leaving him a pale shadow of the background as he faded into the walls of his ship.
I gave a wave of my hand to show I’d already assumed as much and moved on. “Point is, I think I’ve got it,” I declared and pressed the Run button for my algorithm. The computer processed a thousand times faster than what I had on Earth, and in a second a red X appeared across the windows. “Almost have it. Give me another go.”
Hunching over the console, I didn’t feel his arm slide across my shoulders until Nolan whispered near my ear, “You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I do. I am going to finish this. I am not letting some asshole squid steal my work.” I spun away from the rows of numbers into his eyes. The black pools threatened to swallow me up, to lull me into accepting how easy it would be to return home. Chip away at it from the comfort of my living room instead of an orbiting spaceship. But the stars in them solidified my spine and I jerked my head to the crystal ball.
“What does the Oracle say?”
Nolan reached for it without letting me go. “Thirty percent chance of success,” he said.
“What about now?” I asked, trying my new algorithm. It ran into the same red X, but I could feel it getting closer. Just a few more bugs.
“Forty-two percent, forty-three,” he cried in shock, both hands enveloping the orb while I focused on my work. “Trini…?”
“I can do this. I swear. Let me try?” Every endless night had to be worth something. Every dry scream of terror over the past week had to amount to something. Every cold bed in my future wouldn’t seem so bleak if I at least had this win.
Nolan nodded, his body coming into a sharp purple focus. “All right. Let’s do this,” he said and dashed to the controls. Earth sped away, vanishing into a small blue bauble amongst a sea of planets. I only looked up once and prayed I didn’t just doom myself to never seeing it again.
But as my eyes shifted away from the vanishing planet to Nolan, he smiled with his lips. “Upon entering neutral galactic space, we will have to provide a reason why we belong. Without it, they will… Best left unsaid. We have two hours until reaching the Bank. Can you do it by then?”
“Don’t have a choice, do I?” Shit, I hadn’t even thought about the bots and drones flying around and ready to take me out at a moment’s notice. My tongue knocked against the roof of my mouth, clicking away to try and calm the throb of my heart.
Fingers slipped over mine without pressing down. Nolan held me safe even as he piloted the ship. “I have faith in you.”
With that, I dove deep into rearranging the math of the universe.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
IT WAS READY.
Okay, not ready ready, but good enough. I had a working theory at least, and one good run to prove I wasn’t delusional. My eyes slid away from the viewscreen filled with ships of unimaginable design crowded around us like an intergalactic mosh pit. Nolan left the Oracle
ball on the counter, the display settling on the chance of us winning at 50%.
A dead heat. All I had to do was convince the people in charge of the universe’s bank of knowledge that I was right. And do it first.
When a growl that sounded like a vengeful walrus attacking a lion broke from Nolan, I swiveled to him. “The Kirkan is here,” he said, a finger jabbing through the cluster of ships to reveal the square foot of a recognizable one.
“We knew that was a possibility,” I said, trying to be the calm one. It’s not as if the entire galaxy was at stake. Just me, and…him, having a chance to be together. To be more. Why did that clamp on my heart tighter than an imagined imminent threat of the universe exploding?
Nolan snorted, still angry at what Shiban took from him with that rope trick. Not that I could blame him. Did he have another double-cross planned? “You won’t attack the Kirkan, will you?”
“What?”
“In the Bank. I hope you’re not planning to hurt anyone for revenge.”
The ship finished its slow glide toward a hangar and the entire station began to circle around us — or maybe the other way around. It was hard to tell when there was no center of gravity, technically.
“Why would I…?” he began before turning to me. I clung white-knuckled to the disc filled with my answer. One that I’d been strangled, kidnapped, and burned for. By the person I had to beat to the punch before she took everything away from me. From us.
“Trini.” Warm hands curled around my shoulders, directing me up into his eyes. “Vengeance won’t help.”
I nodded slowly, wondering if the dark need in my gut to see the tentacles ripped off of Shiban’s body were why my species was considered primitive.
“Besides, weapons aren’t allowed,” Nolan said off the cuff, causing me to snicker. “We should get the go-ahead in a minute. Are you ready?”
Patting down my attire, a jumpsuit similar to what he wore but without the revealing mesh panels, I tried to calm my breath. It’s just like defending your thesis, except in front of a bunch of aliens and not your department heads. Though, some of them could have been secret aliens. One always ate a lunch of hardboiled eggs smeared in mayo. That had to be an alien in disguise.
“Okay,” Nolan broke my brain’s wheel-spinning panic. “Here we go.”
“Wait.” I grabbed his hand, trying to curl my fingers around his.
“If you can’t do this…”
“Not that. I’ve been thinking, you should take the credit.”
That caused him to rear back, his sharp brow furrowing over the endless eyes.
Shaking my head, I continued, “You’re…you can use the credits more than me. Or whatever counts for currency. If you are the Owner Title then—”
Nolan coughed as if he hadn’t expected that. “But you said…” He tried to offer up a minor defense, but it was impossible to argue with that much coin on the line. Enough to probably buy his father’s moon out from under him.
“Disembark now!” a deep voice shouted from the walls.
“We have to go,” Nolan said. He pulled me off the ship and onto the station of a science bazaar. I can’t say what I imagined to find on this massive convention of the greatest minds the universe could provide. But aliens of all make shuffling around in clusters while glaring at holographic projections of falling numbers between them wasn’t it.
Nolan kept a tight grip to my hand, and for good reason. We only made it a few steps down the ramp, when a herd of aliens with fluffy hair and ears like rabbits if they had four scuffled past. They didn’t look twice at where they ran, just surged through us, ripping me off my feet. If it weren’t for Nolan and his ability to scoop me away, I’d have drowned in an alien bunny stampede.
“Do you still have it?” he asked while putting me back on my feet.
I tapped my pocket, feeling the familiar disc. “I’m okay, too,” I said sharply.
He frowned. “My concern was more in thieves trying to…never mind.”
I know I told him to take credit, but I expected at least a feigned attempt to argue with me. To play humble for a minute then graciously accept my offer. I didn’t even get a single thank you.
“This way,” he called, yanking me off my feet once again as we dashed to a floating escalator. It wasn’t until we both stood upon it that the platform broke from the ground itself and rose into the air.
Nolan released his life-saving grip and I instantly knotted my fingers together. “Trini?”
“It’s fine! I’ve got it. Everything’s good!” I shouted at the top of my lungs.
“Oh…okay. I only thought you’d want to see this.” Nolan pointed past my shoulder and I turned. A massive hive of stark white cubicles lit up with blue light filled the entire station from the ceiling halfway to the floor. I tried to count the number of rows of cubes holding a single person and a wrap-around console, but the bottom faded out of focus. Still curious to get an idea, I peered over the edge of our flying platform without any railings and found an unnerving fog drifting below.
A warm hand pressed to mine, and I jerked up. In an instant, Nolan pinned me to… Oh. I didn’t even realize I’d grabbed his shoulder to steady myself. Blushing, I slipped my hands away and stared at the hive. “What is it?”
“That is the Bank’s research department. A million minds calculating and testing theories both old and new. They are who you have to convince.”
“A million…” I stuttered, my jaw dropping as we flew around the dangling colony of fact-checkers. There’d been four people in the auditorium when I defended. Four! And now, now I had to talk, to prove this barely finished theory in front of a million strangers. A million aliens from the far-flung edges of the universe?
What did I get myself into?
“We’re here,” Nolan said. The platform came to a slow stop before a series of stark white stairs stretching up to what looked like a teal-colored screen. The same blue lights glowed below the stairs, lighting up the entrance like a sci-fi movie theater.
I turned to Nolan, about to make some pathetic joke about it when a hooked blade dropped before him.
“No Yaxha allowed.”
The words rose above the stampede of my heart pounding in my ears, and I swiveled up to find a creature with the face of a pissed off pug glaring at us. Its body bore the kind of musculature you’d expect to find on a gorilla and the legs of a slug. No, sorry, the legs of a centipede attached to a slug. Oh, crap! They fluttered as the man with the sword-spear glared at Nolan.
“I have clearance to attend. I’m a registered bounty hunter,” Nolan said.
“Sure,” the gorilla centipede snickered.
“Here’s my proof,” Nolan said, holding out his hand.
The guard barely glanced at the rotating numbers next to a holographic picture of Nolan. “It’s a fake,” the guard said.
“No, it isn’t,” I declared, butting in.
Nolan snapped his head at me for a second, and I staggered back. “Please.” The occasionally smart ass, and always proud man shrunk as he tried to convince this random person hopped up on self-importance to let us through. Dread sloshed in my stomach at the far too familiar feeling of being asked for papers to prove you have a right to exist.
“Troubles?” a robotic voice snapped out of my nightmares into reality. I spun around and nearly hissed at Shiban striding off a floating platform, my stolen research in her hand. Each rise of the tentacles off the floor caused a series of pops to break through the air. It was nails on a chalkboard for me, my entire body flinching inward with each juicy pop.
“Don’t trust this one,” the Kirkan said. “Yaxha are always trouble.”
Nolan glared but could do nothing as Shiban waltzed up the stairs without anyone saying a word. “Listen, Sir,” Nolan said, pleading with the guard. “What if you let my friend continue on to the theater bank while we work this out?”
What? No. I couldn’t do this by myself. I didn’t even know what I was doing.
> The edge of the hooked blade whipped across my face. I stared in shock at my own paling reflection gleaming off the sword. My entire body froze as the gorilla-pede snarled. “As if this isn’t a Yaxha too.”
“Test her,” Nolan said.
The guard growled again but held up a small light in my eyes. Pain seared through me, causing me to rear back, but it must have been enough as he rolled his lips and declared, “Fine. You can go through. But not you.”
“I can’t… Nolan, what do I—?”
“You can, Trini. Go up the stairs, they’ll help you. I promise.” He wrapped my hands in his and rubbed over the back of them to calm me down. “It’s all up to you now.”
No choice. I nodded and turned to face the unscalable stairs. They towered above me, my Mount Everest, and I had to leave my trusty guide behind. It wouldn’t work. I’d be laughed out of the stadium. Theater? Whatever it was. Or worse, they’d figure out I’m human and kill me on sight. Oh, God, I can’t. I need to get back to the ship.
Even with spittle flying from the pug-face’s mouth, Nolan gazed up at me. He watched with a sad but unsurprised look and his scales shifted slightly brighter. I smiled in response to his and turned to face the climb.
A voice echoed through the chamber, “New data to be entered in the theater.”
Shit, that had to be Shiban. Picking up my feet, I ran two and three steps at a time until I reached the top. For some reason, I expected it to look like a lecture hall. Desks stretched out in rows as the professor rested on an island carved deep at the bottom. But the floor leveled out in a straight shot to a massive screen built into the floor and reaching three stories tall.
Chairs hovered around, most empty, but it looked as if the declaration over the loudspeaker sent people running to fill them. I felt a hand smack into my back and shove me away as two of the bunny people bounced to take a chair.
Numb, I walked down the empty aisle, clinging to my disc to prove I belonged here. Don’t drop it. Don’t lose it. Just hold it tight and keep going.
Voices rose. Fingers and other finger-like appendages all jabbed to me. I ignored it all as I walked to a single desk blocking my path to the screen. There was Shiban, her tentacles undulating as she studied a pile of floating numbers before her.
