by M. R. Forbes
Her fatigues kept the frigid liquid from piercing through and into her skin, holding it at bay as it rose to her knees. She slipped on an unseen piece of debris, catching herself against the wall. Then she looked down.
The light pierced the water more easily from close up. She saw a face, slightly bloated but preserved. She stumbled back toward the wall. "Shit."
"Katherine? What is it?" Trevor asked from above.
She got over the initial surprise. She followed the face down to a torso, and then to the debris. A hand was visible there, its complexion too dark to belong to the same person.
"It looks like part of the shaft collapsed onto some people down here," she said. She leaned in closer, looking at the face. It was familiar to her. It resembled the configuration she had run into in the loop station. "It looks like one of Watson's."
A third pop sounded within the ship. A vibration passed along it, almost knocking Katherine over. The sound of bending metal followed. She turned her attention to the sound. A single opening. A mangled but passable area that moved toward the rear of the starship.
Katherine checked the map, confronted with a moment of confusion when she realized that she was off it. She adjusted the schematic to get her bearings.
She was three levels further down than anyone had been before.
57
"I'm outside the boundaries," Katherine said. "Deeper than the map goes. I can see an opening toward the aft."
"Major, you should get out of there," Jackson said. "If more of the ship is opening up, it's only because it's unstable." A fourth vibration shook them, emphasizing his point. "I'm going to reel you back up."
"Negative," Katherine said, taking a few steps toward the bulkhead. "I'm going to see what's through the hole."
"That's not a good idea, Major," Jackson said. "You could get trapped down there."
"It's a chance I have to take, Captain," she replied.
"Kate," Trevor said, switching to a private channel. "You don't need to do this. If we can't reach the engine, neither can Watson. If the XENO-1 is going to sink, let the device sink with it."
"You know I can't. We need it as much as he does. Origin said it has to be on the Dove."
"Why?"
"So the Dove can go into the next recursion."
"Why?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why does it need to go into the next recursion? What's the point? We lose anyway, don't we?"
"The point is that we don't give up, Trev. We keep fighting. We keep trying. Origin said the Mesh is broken, and that we have a chance. This is our chance. If the eternal engine is down here, I'm going to find it."
"Then I'm coming down with you."
"No. Stay up there. There's only one way in or out of this space, and that's through you. If Watson shows up, you have to keep him neutralized. Set up a defensive perimeter with Jackson."
"Is that an order, Major?"
"Does it have to be?"
"No. You have a point. I'll take care of the defenses. Don't go silent on me."
"Affirmative."
Katherine returned her attention to the corridor. The opening was too small for the power armor. She was going to have to leave it.
She disengaged, releasing the bindings and powering down. Then she stepped off, reaching back and taking her rifle from the side. The water was up to her knees now, and the watertight insulation of her fatigues was beginning to lose the battle against the cold.
She pushed on, through the water to the corridor, crouching low and navigating her way through the twisted frame. The passage beyond was also bent, crushing in on itself as damage and time finally caught up to the starship. She had no idea how much time she had, or even where she was going. It didn't matter. If she died down here, so be it. At least she would die trying.
"We're set and ready," Trevor said a short time later. "Nothing is getting through here. Any leads?"
"Not yet," Katherine replied. "The ship goes on forever." She looked ahead. There was still only the one corridor, leading straight back toward the rear. "I feel like I'm being directed. Every other passage I cross is blocked by debris."
"A trap?"
"It feels like it should be, but what would be the point? Watson could have killed me back in D.C. No. I think I'm supposed to be down here. Whatever is going to happen, it's going to happen soon."
"Affirmative. We've got your back."
Katherine kept walking. Could it be that the ship had been altered for her arrival as if it knew the state of the world outside? Or had it all been pre-organized and pre-ordained based on prior recursions? Had she been here before? Walked this corridor before? It all seemed so impossible, and at the same time was the only thing that made sense to her. Who knew what permutations of coincidence could be created when history had repeated some version of itself over the course of infinite time?
It was enough to make her head spin if she thought too much about it. It was better to accept what was, rather than try to understand it. Her present experience was the only experience that mattered to the her that was here now.
Twenty minutes passed. The air grew colder. Katherine was sure she should have reached the back of the ship by now, but the corridor continued. It had changed, however; turning into a smooth, cylindrical alloy that appeared newer than everything else.
Something had made this after the crash.
Something that was probably still here.
She could imagine how the cylinder might have been closed off before, tucked away and hidden so that no one could find it, including Watson. For whatever reason - whether because of the ship's deterioration, past recursions, or her presence - it was open now.
The passage ended at a large sealed hatch, at least ten meters in diameter. It loomed over her, a monument to the secret waiting on the other side. Katherine approached it without slowing, without hesitation, half-expecting it to open as she neared.
It didn't. Not right away. Instead, a small light in the shape of a hand began to flash on the surface.
She finished her journey, reaching the barrier and staring at the panel. She should have sent word back to Trevor and the team. In the moment, she forgot. She had come a long way in a very short time.
She reached out, putting her hand to the light. It glowed beneath her palm. She knew instinctively what was going to happen then, as though she had been waiting for it to happen since the day she had been born. The same way she had known to look for the falling starship before it had appeared in the sky.
A hiss of air, a soft clang, and a rumble. Then the doors began to part. More intense light greeted her eyes; a quickly pulsing blue. It blinded her for a moment, leaving her unable to make out the details of the chamber that was revealed. She could see a large structure in the center, thousands of branches spreading out in all directions from it, reaching around the room and plunging down into the ice below. She could see a silhouette in the center of it, a black outline of a human-shaped figure facing away from her.
Time slowed down. Seconds passed as if they were hours. The brightness began to come into focus, the figure at the center of it all turning toward them, yet still remaining anchored to the core of energy.
Katherine walked toward it, each step an eternity. She couldn't get close enough, fast enough. There was no fear in her. Only an excitement she couldn't completely understand.
Sound. A voice. It was slow at first before reality resumed. She heard the words in her head almost before they were finished being spoken.
"Mother," Kathy said. "You're right on time."
58
"There it is," Captain Verma said, pointing down toward the black splotch in the center of a sea of white. "Not quite what you were expecting, is it?"
Mitchell looked down at his starship, a wave of memory washing over him. He remembered the day he found her, hidden in the asteroid field, guided to the spot by a recording made by Major Katherine Asher hundreds of years before. Everything had changed since then, he k
new. The Mesh was broken. Continuity was destroyed. That past had little to do with this past. This time.
Was it the first time?
He would make sure it was the last.
"Any sign of life down there?" he said.
"Not that I can see," Verma replied. "Quiet as a morgue. Oh. Wait. Thermals are picking up something. Two somethings."
Verma flipped a switch on the center console of the VTOL, activating a small monitor that reflected what he saw on his helmet's visor. The outline of the ship was obvious, as was the ice and rock. Two reddish figures stood close together.
"Guards," Mitchell said. "Someone has to be inside."
"Do we drop in and say hello?" Stoker said. "Or would you rather take them by surprise?"
"You said UEA and U.S. forces shouldn't be in the area," Mitchell said.
"That's right. They've been limiting activity. The ice is apparently unstable, thanks to a warmer than usual climate."
"Let's go with surprise," Mitchell said.
"Yes, sir. You heard the man, Mazerat."
"Yes, sir. Hold tight."
The VTOL shuddered as Verma adjusted course, rapidly ascending away from the scene. It was the same tactic they had used nine hours earlier when they had taken Mitchell and his companions unaware.
"This is my favorite part," Stoker said. "Come on, Colonel, let's give our drop team the good news."
Mitchell followed Stoker from the cockpit to the cramped space at the rear of the craft. The Fighting Fifteenth was already geared up and ready to go, in skin tight black wingsuits that would allow them to swoop in nearly silently.
"Kook, Demon, Dreck, you're on drop detail," Stoker said. "We'll be on the site in t-minus thirty."
"Yes, sir," the three soldiers replied.
"There are two targets on the ground," Mitchell said. "Assume they're unfriendly, but try not to kill them unless you have to."
"Roger," Koos said.
"We'll join you on the ground once it's clear," Stoker said. "Keep things copacetic for us, will you?"
"Affirmative," Sergeant Damon said.
Kook brought them to the side door. "It's damn cold out there, soldiers. Be ready to get slapped in the face."
The statement reminded Mitchell to pull his insulated headgear down and cover his face as the rest of the squad did the same, lowering AR goggles over the white cloth.
Stoker raised his hand, counting down with glove-covered fingers. When he reached his fist, the side door slid open, and the three jumpers hurried out. A blast of arctic air sent a chill through Mitchell despite the protective clothing, his arms starting to burn. He shook them out while the door slid closed again.
"Better buckle up, Colonel," Stoker said. "This part's going to be fun."
Mitchell hurried to the side of the craft, taking a seat between Michael and Max and strapped himself in.
"Hoo. It's been a few years since I was involved in a DFA," Max said, laughing.
"DFA?" Michael replied. The flight hadn't been kind to him, though he had taken it like a real soldier.
"Death From Above, bro," Max said. "Enjoy the ride."
Michael's face paled even more. The humming of the VTOL's engines stopped.
Then they began to fall.
The craft wasn't completely out of control. It had been designed for the maneuver as a way to quietly unload a team of soldiers into hostile territory. While Mitchell didn't think the area around the Dove was hostile, he didn't know it wasn't either. Watson had been making plans for years, while he had only been himself for days.
The VTOL rocked against rough spots in the air, the specially designed and painted surface allowing it to plummet with barely any sound. Mitchell glanced at Daisy, Lyle, and Cooper across from them. Lyle looked the most uncomfortable, his eyes closed as though he were praying.
The repulsors kicked on, howling as they fought to break the descent. Stoker took that as his cue, standing up and heading for the weapons rack. Max was close behind.
Mitchell unbuckled and stood, checking Michael one more time. He was the only one not wearing military gear, his frame too large for standard issue. Daisy had told them to expect a large friend, and they had provided an insulated jacket and pants. Even so, the plan was for him to stay on the VTOL with Verma while the others went inside.
Mitchell was sure Michael would vomit as soon as they did. He had his head resting in his hands, and refused to look up.
"We'll get what we came for, and then we'll find Katherine," Mitchell said, kneeling next to him.
Michael nodded. "Be safe, Colonel," he said softly.
"You've got a lot of guts, Michael," Mitchell replied, clasping his shoulder. "Thanks for helping us get this far."
Michael looked up then, a slight smile at the corner of his mouth. "Yes, sir."
The hatch opened a second time, and he climbed onto the wing and then to the ground with the rest of the soldiers. Koos, Dawes, and Damon had snuck up on the two guards, holding them at gunpoint while the cavalry arrived.
"UEA soldiers, sir," Koos said. "Lieutenant Murphy and Captain Ribisi. They said they aren't authorized to tell us anything else."
"Did they give you any trouble?" Stoker asked.
"No, sir."
"You checked them?" Mitchell asked. The soldiers were wearing what looked like an earlier version of the exoskeletons he was familiar with. The suits were bulkier, but they looked plenty destructive. He noticed the ammunition feeds had been disconnected from the firing mechanism.
"Yes, sir. No resistance and they're clean."
"This area is supposed to be clear," Stoker said to them. "Who did you come with, and what are you doing here?"
The two soldiers didn't answer.
"Lieutenant Murphy," Stoker said, approaching the one on the left. "My name is Lieutenant Colonel Stoker, Fifteenth Infantry, Drop Division, United States Army. What are your orders?"
Murphy was holding his helmet in his hands, his pale face emerging from his insulated headpiece. He glanced over at Ribisi, who shrugged. Then he looked at Stoker. Then he looked over Stoker's shoulder, directly at Mitchell.
"You're too late to save her, Mitchell," he said. "Boom."
59
Mitchell didn't hesitate. He threw himself at Max, who was standing closest to him. "Get down," he shouted.
He didn't see the explosion, but he saw the flash of light and felt the rush of heat from it. He heard the echo of the detonation and the cries of the others nearby.
Then he was face down in the snow, still holding Max. He felt a line of cold air and warm blood on his leg where a piece of debris had cut him.
"Shit," Max said, lifting himself up. Mitchell gathered himself and rose on unsteady legs. Half the squad was down, and the purity of the ice was ruined with bits of metal, blood, and body parts.
"Geezus," Lyle said from his knees nearby.
Corporal Cooper was beside him, alive but wounded, her arm hanging loosely at her side, nearly sheared off by the blast.
"What the heck just - oh man," Mitchell heard Michael say from the VTOL.
"There are medkits near the cockpit," Damon said. She was the only one of the Fifteenth still on their feet. She reached Damon, helping her up and leading her toward the VTOL. "We walked right into a trap, Colonel. We need to get the frig out of here before things get worse."
Mitchell looked at her, and then back at the entrance to the ship. When was he going to learn to shoot first and ask questions later? When was he going to start treating everyone as an enemy?
Never, that was when. He would rather die himself than gun down innocent people because they might turn out to be suicide bombers.
"Things are getting worse," Max said, raising his rifle to his shoulder.
Mitchell followed the muzzle toward the pavilion. Four machines had made their way from its confines. He recognized them immediately, though he had never seen a whole one. He remembered looking at the pieces of them, back on Asimov. Asimov? He felt a chill.
Millie. Another one he had lost.
He got to his feet, bringing his own weapon up. The machines charged, their spider-like legs carrying them forward in a hurry. They didn't have guns and didn't need them. Their weight and the sharp edges of the metal they had been assembled from was more than enough.
"Michael, get back inside," Mitchell shouted, aiming at one of the machines. It was headed right for the VTOL. In fact, they all were.
Watson had gotten here first, and he didn't want them to leave.
Max opened fire, his bullets pinging off the alloy shell of the creations, leaving dents but not stopping them.
"Aim for the legs," Mitchell said, adjusting his sights. He blew three legs out from the first, slowing it down.
Lyle joined the fight while Damon continued helping Cooper toward the VTOL. It was still safer inside the craft than out. Two more legs vanished from his target, and it lost the ability to move.
There were still three more, and they weren't going to be able to stop them before they reached the ship.
Or at least, Mitchell thought they wouldn't until a panel opened on the bottom of the craft and a pair of high-caliber chainguns dropped down. They started firing, tearing the machines to pieces within seconds.
"Hoo. That was frigging close," Max said.
"Are you hurt?" Mitchell asked.
"Just my feelings."
"Lyle, are you hurt?"
"Negative, Colonel."
Damon had reached the VTOL. Michael helped her get Cooper back on board and then returned to the hatch.
"Are we leaving?" he asked.
"You're too late to save her," the Lieutenant had said. Did that mean Katherine was here? Had these soldiers come with her?
"No. Tell Verma to get the VTOL somewhere safe and wait for my signal. Katherine may be in there, and if she is, she's in more trouble than I thought." He looked at Max. "We're going to get her out."
"Affirmative, Colonel," Max said. "Oorah."
Michael disappeared into the VTOL again. Sergeant Damon appeared in the hatch as first repulsors came online, and then the jets.
