Heirs of Earth

by Sean Williams

  “There is a soft inner layer that is easily penetrated,” said the hole ship. “Beyond that, however, is a tougher core through which I do not seem to be making any progress.”

  She cursed under her breath. “Then try somewhere else. There has to be a weak point somewhere.”

  The hole ship shifted to a new location of its own choosing and tried again. Sol knew, though, that there didn’t have to be a weak spot at all. If the Starfish were proficient at matter transmutation—which, given their other capabilities, seemed extremely likely—they could simply build a new hatch out of nothing and blend it seamlessly with the wall after they had passed through it. If something serious had happened to the Trident, Sol feared that they could be stuck in this chamber forever.

  That’s not going to happen, she vowed. She hadn’t come this far only to die in some obscure nook.

  “What about calling for help?” suggested Inari. “It’s not as though we have any reason to hide anymore. The Unfit might have sent someone to see what’s going on. If we can contact them, they might be able to jump in here and get us out.”

  Sol nodded, liking the suggestion. “Cleo?”

  “Ftl is still out,” came the instant response. “This isn’t just the damping effect the Starfish put on us before. Something’s getting through, but it’s garbage. Static.”

  “What about other ships?”

  “I tried searching again, but Eledone gave me the same response. Apart from the seven hole ships we have configured here, there are none in the vicinity.”

  “We can keep trying, anyway. Send a message detailing our situation. If anyone’s listening out for us, they might hear us through the noise. We can’t assume they won’t hear us just because we can’t hear them.”

  The hole ship jetted up to the base of the chandelier and started slicing in a new spot.

  Third time lucky, Sol thought to herself hopefully.

  “Hold on a second,” said Alander. “How many hole ships did you say that Eledone had identified?”

  “Seven,” Samson replied. “That’s right, isn’t it? We brought eight, and lost one probe to the Pllix.”

  “But what about Thor? She took one with her when she left, so there should only be six.”

  “But Eledone says there’s seven.”

  “Then there must be someone else.” Sol looked around the screens at the chamber containing them, wondering if rescue was just on the other side of an impenetrable wall.

  “Either that or Thor survived,” said Inari. “Maybe she’s come back for us.”

  Sol and Alander exchanged glances, and in that moment she knew that Alander was thinking the same thing she was.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Inari, obviously noticing their concerned looks. “That would be a good thing, wouldn’t it?”

  “That would all depend on what she came back as,” said Alander.

  * * *

  “Mayday, mayday. This is Cleo Samson of Rasmussen hailing all UNESSPRO or Unfit personnel near pi-1 Ursa Major on behalf of Caryl Hatzis of Sol. We have an emergency situation and require immediate assistance. Please respond.”

  The light ebbed slightly, giving the words space to sink in.

  Mayday, mayday...

  Thoughts moved sluggishly at first, gaining momentum only gradually. Key concepts settled back into place; mental subroutines locked together, began to turn like cogs in a complex machine.

  This is Cleo Samson of Rasmussen...

  She knew that name, and the voice. What she didn’t know or understand was who she was and why she was hearing these words. She felt as though she had returned from a place far away, a place that had been so full that there had hardly been any room for herself. She had felt squeezed, crushed to the verge of oblivion by nothing more substantial than thought itself.

  ... on behalf of Caryl Hatzis of Sol...

  Her sense of self seemed to explode at the sound of this name, and suddenly she knew who she was again.

  Please respond...

  Respond, yes, Thor thought as memories rushed to fill the gaps. But how? It was all very well to know who she was again, but that didn’t tell her where she was or what she was, for that matter.

  She remembered the Nexus and the mission it had sent her on, to the Source of All. She remembered her transformation into the Conduit and the strange new understandings that had come with that. She remembered her wild flight into the Source, feeling as though she was diving into a sun, as though something more powerful than gravity had gripped her and was pulling her in, sucking her down, tearing her apart....

  Beyond that, though, there was nothing.

  Mayday, mayday...

  Cleo Samson’s message began to cycle through again. She and the others were in trouble—but that they were alive at all was a good sign. The Starfish could have killed them all out of hand, had her mission gone disastrously awry. She considered this for a moment. Did this mean, then, that she had been successful? That she had achieved what she’d set out to do? If so, then that meant the mysterious aliens had listened to what she’d had to say and had come to pi-1 Ursa Major to deal with the Spinners and halt their advance.

  This more than anything convinced her it was time to move.

  She tested her limbs for a response. Sensation flooded in from nerve endings throughout a body that, until she tested it, she wasn’t even sure she had. The whiteness ebbed, and she felt cool smoothness under her. She was lying on her back, staring at the bright ceiling of a hole ship cockpit. She flexed her fingers, raised her knees, turned her head; when she knew that she could, she carefully climbed to her feet.

  Her android body raised itself off the ground and stood, as easily and calmly as though nothing had ever happened to it. That disconcerted her more than anything else. Was she to emerge from her experience completely unscathed? Had anything happened at all?

  “Hello?” she ventured. Her voice, too, sounded the same as ever.

  WELCOME BACK, CARYL HATZIS, Said the Nexus. TEMPORARILY.

  Both hope and fear faded, then.

  “This isn’t real, is it?” she asked.

  NO, IT’S NOT.

  “Then am I... dead?”

  I DID WARN YOU THAT YOU MIGHT NOT SURVIVE THE EXPERIENCE.

  “Yes, I know, but—” She fell quiet, resisting a headache threatening to blossom in her temples. “But if I am dead, then what am I doing here?”

  I HAVE BEEN SENT TO INTERVENE, came the reply. YOUR SITUATION IS COMPLEX ENOUGH TO MAINTAIN THE INTEREST OF THOSE HIGHER UP THE LADDER THAN ME. THEY FIND YOU AN INTERESTING CASE.

  Thor repressed an angry retort. She resented being regarded as some sort of bug on a microscope slide.

  “And meanwhile my friends are still in trouble.”

  WHAT WOULD YOU DO WERE I TO RELEASE YOU? AND WHY WOULD YOU DO IT?

  “Do we have to play this fucking game again?”

  YES. The answer was simple and blunt.

  She sighed, throwing up her arms in resignation. “Okay, but can we at least keep it brief this time?”

  THAT IS UP TO YOU, CARYL HATZIS.

  “What I would do is try to help my friends. And why? Because it’s the right thing to do, of course.”

  HOW WOULD YOU HELP THEM?

  She shrugged. “How do you expect me to answer that when I have no idea what has happened to them?”

  WOULD YOU GIVE YOUR LIFE TO SAVE THEM?

  She couldn’t resist a snort of derision. “Again? I thought I’d just done that.”

  THAT WAS FOR THE GOOD OF ALL THE SURVIVORS. BUT WHAT ABOUT THE HANDFUL YOU CAME HERE WITH? WOULD YOU DO IT FOR SOL?

  Thor fought briefly with conflicting emotions. Resentment of Sol warred with deeply ingrained self-interest. Conscious of the Nexus watching every second of the struggle, she tried as hard as she could to be honest, and to come to the conclusion she needed.

  “Yes,” she said. “I would give my life for Sol. It’s important that she gets back to the colonies. They need her.”


  COULDN’T YOU OR ONE OF THE OTHER CARYL HATZIS ENGRAMS DO THE JOB EQUALLY WELL?

  Her jaw muscles clenched on the answer she hated to give, but knew was the truth. “No, we couldn’t.”

  THERE IS NOTHING QUITE LIKE A SURE KNOWLEDGE OF ONE’S LIMITATIONS AS A STARTING POINT FOR EVERY VENTURE. The Nexus paused as if in thought. YOU MAY RETURN TO THEM AND DO WHAT YOU CAN. WE WILL NOT MEET AGAIN.

  “Wait.” She stepped forward, frustrated that there was no apparent focus for the Nexus. It was everywhere and yet nowhere simultaneously. “Tell me what happened between me and the Starfish. Do you know?”

  don’t you?

  “No. I don’t remember anything.”

  I’M SORRY, BUT I HAVE NO ACCESS TO SUCH INFORMATION. The Nexus sounded almost resentful. THERE ARE THINGS WE LOWER BEINGS SIMPLY CANNOT GRASP FOR VERY LONG. SOMETIMES THE STONES OF KNOWLEDGE ARE TOO HOT TO HOLD ONTO; THEY BURN THE LIKES OF YOU AND I. SOMETIMES IT IS BETTER TO JUST BE CONTENT WITH WHAT YOU KNOW AND WHO YOU ARE, CARYL HATZIS.

  The illusion of the cockpit began to fade, and Thor felt alien thoughts creep into the back of her mind. She clung to the memory of who she had been as the insidious tide rose up and over her, and she became, once again, something else.

  * * *

  Lucia raced a pack of tenacious, clawlike creatures along a series of tubes wide enough to stack ten spindles identical to hers one on top of the other. Giddying eddies and whirlpools buffeted her from side to side. Wild surges of energy distracted her senses. As shock waves rolled back and forth along the massive vessel, its interior was becoming an increasingly dangerous place to be.

  Its many denizens weren’t helping. Reacting to the attack in a thousand different ways—some steadfastly trying to repair the damage as it spread, others determined to keep further incursions at bay—they swarmed in her path like so many hyperevolved insects. Lucia didn’t know if any of them were the Starfish, nor did she care right now. She was simply doing her best to stay out of their way while trying to reach the last known location of the hole ships she had detected.

  She came to a massive junction, a chamber large enough to hold a small moon with dozens of tubes leading in every direction. Cables stretched across the chamber like strings of melted cheese, crisscrossing madly in her path. She dodged and wove through them, pushing her navigational abilities to the limit. At the speeds she was flying, her old probe, Chung-5, wouldn’t have stood a chance. It would have been diced and sliced in an instant like a boiled egg through a tennis racket. Although larger, the spindle had every benefit of advanced alien technology to make it more maneuverable as well as more resilient.

  Her flying wasn’t perfect. Once she brushed against one of the cables and sent it twanging across its length. One of the clawships chasing her mistimed its passage and was neatly bisected; it evaporated in a blast of energy that was powerful enough to send the cable and its neighbors vibrating violently. In the chaos, Lucia managed to duck into a nearby tube and race away.

  “Mayday, mayday. This is Cleo Samson of Rasmussen hailing all UNESSPRO or Unfit personnel near pi-1 Ursa Major on behalf of Caryl Hatzis of Sol. We have an emergency situation and require immediate assistance. Please respond. Mayday, mayday—”

  Cleo’s voice emerging from the electromagnetic chaos that was pi-1 Ursa Major sent her hurrying forward, hoping the tube would keep taking her in the right direction.

  “Cleo, can you hear me? This is Lucia.”

  There was a slight pause as the emergency recording shut down.

  “Lucia?” came Sol’s voice in its place, full of surprise. “Is that really you?”

  “It is,” she replied. “I’m on my way.”

  “We can only just hear you, Lucia. You must’ve just come into range. Where are you, exactly?”

  “I’m heading your way as fast as I can,” she said. “The Trident’s not in good shape, in case you hadn’t already guessed. We need to get you out of there—and fast! What’s your situation right now?”

  “Not good. We’re trapped inside a chamber without a working ftl drive. We’ve tried looking, but we just can’t find a way out of this goddamn place. It’s a nightmare.”

  “Ftl is down right across the system, unfortunately. Just hang in there, though, okay? I’m picking up readings from your hole ships and triangulating on your location. I’ll see what I can do when I get there.”

  There was another small break. “Was that you we saw before?” asked Samson. “In the spindle?”

  Lucia realized only then that her transformation postdated the departure of the Starfish mission. “It’s a long story. Is Peter there?”

  “I’m here, Lucia.”

  Relief flooded through her—and a welcome sense that she was doing the right thing.

  “Peter, I—”

  She didn’t finish the sentence. Something large and powerful on the far side of the tube wall destracted in a series of explosions, sending waves of energy and matter across her. She tumbled, disoriented, as the tube unraveled around her. Her senses dissolved to static as she fought to right herself, clutching at the distant ping that was the cluster of hole ships belonging to Sol.

  I’m coming, she recited to herself. In the chaotic wash that disrupted every attempt to communicate, the mantra helped her focus. I’m coming, Peter...

  * * *

  Harsh static cut Lucia off in midsentence. No matter how Samson tried, she couldn’t reestablish contact.

  “At least we know she’s out there,” said Inari. “She might be able to help if Thor can’t.”

  Eledone was still attempting to slice a way out of the chamber, but with no luck. Whatever material the walls were made of, it was far too tough for the hole ship to penetrate.

  “No sign of Thor yet?” asked Sol.

  “She’s not showing on anything Eledone is giving us.”

  “Yet Eledone still says she’s there?”

  “It seems so. We’re getting a count of seven hole ships, which suggests she is.”

  “I’d like to see what Eledone’s seeing.”

  Alander observed from the side, where he was monitoring vague reports of the Trident’s growing distress. A new display opened filled with complex schematics and several bright points. Eledone was a bright, overlapping cluster in one corner of the 3-D image; the chamber and its walls were shadowy ghosts beyond which lurked dark spaces and ill-defined shapes. There were no other bright points beyond Eledone.

  Sol zoomed in closer to study the layout of the hole ship. Alander could practically hear her counting under her breath. Ever since they’d lost Thor, Eledone had been traveling in the form of two triangular arrangements stacked on top of each other, slightly rotated so that the upper layer nestled into the gaps of the lower layer. There was simply no room for another hole ship in the arrangement.

  “Expand it further.” Sol’s command was instantly obeyed by the hole ship. The bright points swelled into a sphere, not dissimilar to how the hole ships looked in actuality. They bulged from the screen like a strange bunch of grapes.

  “You consist of seven ships, right, Eledone?”

  “That is correct, Caryl.”

  “That’s what I thought,” she said. “So, call me an idiot, but I can only see six hole ships.”

  “There are seven,” Eledone insisted.

  “Okay, so where is the seventh? Why can’t I see it?”

  “I do not know, Caryl.”

  She sighed. “I’m too tired for fucking riddles and games. Just show me where it is, will you?”

  The screen returned to its former appearance and the image zoomed in on Eledone.

  “Goddamn it, Eledone.” she cursed in frustration. “This is what I was looking at before. What am I supposed to be seeing here?”

  “The seventh hole ship, Caryl. It is there.”

  “Okay, okay. Zoom in on it for me, will you?”

  The image ballooned.

  Sol shook her head. “I can’t see anything. Zoom in closer.”

 
The “grapes” expanded until their edges leaked out of the window.

  “What the fuck is going—”

  “Wait a second, Caryl,” said Alander, leaving his station to step up to the screen. He pointed at something in the image. “Eledone, what’s that?”

  Tucked into the join between two of the spheres, almost invisible in the overlap, was a round, white circle.

  “That is the hole ship you are seeking, Peter.”

  “It’s part of you?”

  “No, Peter. It is an independent vehicle.”

  “Then where is it? If it’s not part of you and yet it shows up on this view, then it must be in here with us.”

  “Hands up all of those who can see a suspicious looking sphere floating around in here,” Sol said, her frustration emerging as sarcasm.

  With a sinking feeling, Alander turned to look at where Axford’s body hung contained in its separate section of the cockpit. “Oh, shit...”

  Sol followed his gaze. “What? What is it?”

  Alander moved over to the boundary that separated the ex-general from everyone else. Eledone created an opening in the containment field, which he stepped cautiously through. He winced as the smell of blood immediately accosted his senses.

  “Peter, what are you doing?” said Sol, moving to the boundary also, but stopping at its edge. “We don’t even know if he’s dead yet!”

  “It’s in him, Caryl.”

  She frowned, shaking her head. “What is? The hole ship?”

  Alander nodded. “Remember, they can shrink a long way down when they want to. God only knows what he’s filled it with: weapons, sensors, all sorts of stuff.”

  The others joined Hatzis now, all staring at Axford’s inert body. “He’d be just crazy enough to try something like this, too,” said Samson.

  “When he said he could get us out of Eledone,” mumbled Inari, “I never imagined this.”

  “None of us did,” said Alander. “But if the ship wasn’t activated when Eledone was damaged, then there’s every chance its ftl drive might still be working. All we have to do is get it out.”