The Last Builder

by Simeon Graves

  “Ethan, Kit and I made a pact to help people. We’re not pirates.”

  “And I guess I am? I’m sorry to burst your optimistic little bubble, pal, but not everyone we meet – if we meet anyone at all – is going to be all lovey-dovey with us. What are you going to do then?”

  “We’re not defenseless,” Cutler said. “But we’re not going to turn into bullies, either.”

  “We are defenseless, though,” Katherine said, the realization suddenly hitting her. It felt like a pile of stones had been dropped into her stomach.

  Her father sat down across from her. “If we can fix the terrabomb and gather some survivors, we’ll track down a hospitable planet and help them build a community.”

  “And how do you propose we vet complete strangers?” she said.

  “Give someone the gift of a home and see how they treat you,” said Ethan. “Personally, I don’t think vetting is applicable.”

  Her father smiled. “Best news I’ve heard all day. Let’s eat and get a good night’s rest. Tomorrow we’re going to make a bomb.”

  18

  Katherine

  “I’ve never seen anything like this,” Ethan said. He was scrolling through the files on Cutler’s computer, looking at the specs for the terrabomb. It was only a stroke of luck that the computer system storing the files hadn’t been fried, too. Cutler was leaning over his shoulder, while Kit lounged in the co-pilot’s seat, twirling her hair and trying not to let her annoyance show on her face. She’d never felt more like a waste of space in her life. Kit wanted to contribute, but up until now she felt like a liability instead of what they needed: another asset.

  It was enough to make her puke.

  They had just finished consolidating their resources, which meant all their food and medical supplies were now on Waarheid. Kit had already chosen her room and moved her belongings in, but that had taken a single trip. Now, Ethan and her father were pouring over the schematics for the terrabomb, and she found herself getting angrier by the minute.

  “I’m going to take a walk,” she announced, launching herself out of her chair and stalking off down the hallway. “If you guys happen to rekindle a civilization or anything, just holler.”

  “Kit?”

  “I’m fine, Dad,” she said.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, finally catching up with her as she exited The Artemisia.

  “I just need some air,” she said.

  “Kit,” he said, taking her by the hand.

  “I just miss Mom, okay? You’ve got the son you’ve clearly always wanted and I just really miss Mom.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I can’t be a son, Dad. And plus, none of what you two are working on comes naturally to me. Not like it does for Ethan. And I’m sorry, but I don’t think it ever will.”

  “You’re talking crazy, Kit.”

  She brought up a hand to wipe her cheek. “You know what Mom and I used to spend hours talking about? Poetry. From the Ancient Greeks. When was the last time you picked up a book? You stocked this thing with a library, for what? Mom and I used to talk about art and history and literature. Science is so...without fire. Anyway, Ethan’s better at it than I am.”

  “Science can be an art,” Ethan said, appearing in the ship’s doorway.

  “That helps,” she said bitterly. “Thanks, Ethan.”

  She was almost to her room when she heard him call after her.

  “If you don’t mind. I’d like to be alone.”

  “Wait, please.”

  There was a light touch on her shoulder, and it was enough of a pleading gesture to stop her.

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said, “for whatever I did, intentionally or otherwise.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “Just hear me out. You didn’t expect me. I can imagine what it must be like for it to be just the two of you, and then some idiot like me shows up and breaks the bond. I’m not that intuitive, by the way. Your father told me.”

  She stared at his smiling face.

  “You don’t believe me? Your mother’s name was Victoria. You have her eyes and a little of her personality. You went to Juniper Academy. Big school. Lots of ornamentation. There was some professor - Whitmore? Whitman?”

  “Witwick.”

  “That’s the guy. You like the soda they make on the moon. You said you almost stabbed a guy with a screwdriver. You hid in a container of food packets. And you were the one thing that kept that man alive. So can you imagine, I’m asking you, can you imagine what it must be like to hear all that and to come in with no family, no history, no future, a blank slate? To walk into this...this love? And to feel like a slug in the garden of it?”

  A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Thank you,” she said, punching him in the arm playfully.

  “Hey,” he said, taken aback, “it’s nothing.”

  “No, I’m sorry, Ethan. It was selfish of me not to think about it from your point of view.”

  “You are wrong though,” he said. “About science.”

  “Oh, thanks,” she said without a trace of heat in her words.

  “Seriously. Science can be as interesting as art and history and literature. I know you think it’s cold, but that’s only if you’re thinking about what we already know. All those equations, all those rules. It feels stagnant.”

  “And here’s the part where you lecture me about how I’m wrong.”

  Ethan’s lips twitched. “Think about everything we haven’t discovered yet. Think about what people used to call magic but is now commonplace for us. Think about the inventors who created something new. They thought outside the box, they dreamt about a possibility and it became a reality. But look closer. Look out there.” He pointed to an expanse of stars. “In that region is a symphony of physical laws. Alter one, even by the most minute degree, and the entire system falls out of existence.” He ran a hand through his bushy hair. “I don’t want you to be mad at your dad because of me. He’s preoccupied by the terrabomb and I know me being here has caused things to change between you guys, but it’s only temporary. He’s a good guy.”

  “Thank you for helping us,” Katherine said hesitantly. A lot of her fire had cooled, but it still felt strange to exchange pleasantries with this stranger from another world.

  “You’re welcome, Princess.” Ethan winked at her before walking away.

  She laughed and rolled her eyes, and then noticed her father standing off to the side.

  “That was almost pleasant,” he said. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

  “Don’t be,” she said. “This is all still new. I miss how things used to be.”

  “Used to be?”

  “Back on Earth. When I was a kid. When I hated you. When Mom was Mom and everything was wonderful and bright and hopeful.” She stopped herself there. “I thought it was hopeful, anyway. I guess I didn’t know what the word meant. Anyway, I’m glad you have someone here to help with the bomb.”

  He smiled gently. “Just remember I’m glad you’re here, too. You’re my little historian, Kit. You’re going to be the one that writes books and records history. The world needs that as much as it needs the science. It needs to remember its mistakes so that it never repeats them. But more than history needs you, I need you. You’re my sunshine.”

  Her throat was thick with emotion. “Do you think I could get a book? To write in, I mean. And some pens?”

  He smiled. “Dinner’s in twenty, okay?”

  Katherine opened her mouth to respond when Ethan slid into view, looking panicked.

  “The scanners have picked up human life,” he said.

  They followed the boy back to the bridge, where a red flashing light made the dash glow ominously.

  “It’s another warship,” Ethan said. He zoomed up on the ship’s hull. “And it’s from Earth.”

  She looked at her father, dreading the response he finally gave.

  “Greenwood,” he whispered.

>   19

  Cutler

  “Do you know how to land this thing?” Cutler shouted.

  “In theory,” said Ethan.

  “What do you mean ‘in theory’?”

  “I mean I never had to land it before.”

  Cutler groaned. Not only was Greenwood’s ship right on their tail, but they were moments away from potentially crash landing on a foreign planet.

  It was Cutler’s idea, so perhaps he shouldn’t have been taking it out on Ethan. Fighting off Greenwood in the air was not ideal, least of all because they had no idea what sort of damage he could do to the Waarheid. If they lost their ship, they’d be out of luck, especially with The Artemisia dead in the air, too.

  So Cutler had run back to his ship and called up the nearest terraformed planet, Ares II. If they landed, they’d at least be able to take the ships out of the equation and Cutler and Greenwood would be on equal footing.

  Except for the fact that Ethan had never landed Waarheid. Now they were just hoping the crash wouldn’t kill them in the process.

  Trees dotted the ground as far as the eye could see, and just at the horizon Cutler spotted the shining surface of a lake.

  “There’s nowhere to land!” he said.

  “Tell that to the ship,” said Ethan. “It’s got us heading straight for the trees.”

  “Strap in. Both of you. This isn’t going to be smooth.”

  Kit fell into one of the seats along the edge of the bridge.

  “Just land,” Cutler said, “as best you can. Try to avoid the big trees.”

  Ethan’s hand gripped the throttle so tightly that sweat had erupted on his forehead.

  Meanwhile, Cutler kept an eye on Greenwood behind them. The other ship had hailed Waarheid as soon as it had gotten into range, but there would be no negotiations. Greenwood was after Josiah’s drive, and he wouldn’t stop chasing them until he got it—or until Cutler ended this for good.

  “Hold onto something!” Ethan shouted.

  Cutler’s attention snapped back to the window before him. They were already skimming the tops of the trees, and as the landing gear descended, he could feel the resistance as they hit the canopies below.

  “Hold it steady!” Cutler pointed ahead. “There’s a field just over there. Don’t go any lower until we’re just about over it, and then place her down in the middle. It’ll block Greenwood from landing too close to us and it’ll help keep our landing gear intact.”

  Ethan acquiesced, the sweat now visibly dripping down his face, and kept the ship steady until the field came into view. Just as the last trees passed under them, Ethan pulled down on the lever and the ship shuttered, dropped from the sky, and landed none too gently in the field, taking out a half dozen trees in the process.

  The ship jerked to a final stop. Katherine groaned behind Cutler. He tore off his seat belt and waded through the debris that had scattered across the floor when various cabinets and drawers had exploded open upon impact. The ship had come to a rest stuck halfway into the forest. He had to walk uphill to get to her.

  She was buried under a tumble of boxes. He tossed them aside. The panic he felt in his chest lessened only marginally when he saw she was still conscious.

  He cradled her head in his hands. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” Katherine croaked, blinking up at him in confusion. “Just disoriented.”

  “I don’t see any blood. That’s usually a pretty good sign. Just stay still for a minute. You’ll get your bearings. We’re on a bit of an incline.”

  Kit looked over his shoulder, her eyes growing wide. “Ethan.”

  Cutler turned around just in time to see Ethan’s glazed eyes roll up into his head, and his body drop to the floor.

  “Stay here.”

  He waded back across the floor and over to where Ethan had fallen.

  “Hey,” he said, tapping him lightly on the face. “Ethan.”

  “What happened?” the boy said weakly.

  “You must have hit your head in the landing. It’s bleeding.”

  “Hurts,” Ethan said, knitting his eyebrows together. His eyes flickered shut.

  “No, no, no,” Cutler said, tapping his cheek. “Stay awake. You have to keep your eyes open.”

  Ethan’s eyes fluttered open again. “Hurts,” he repeated.

  “I know.”

  Cutler grabbed a jacket from the floor. It didn’t look particularly soft, but at least it was clean. “Anything else hurt?”

  “Head,” Ethan said. His eyes were starting to clear. “Head hurts a lot.”

  “But does anything else hurt? Neck, shoulders, tail bone? You got any broken bones?”

  “Ask my doctor.”

  “Is he okay?” said Kit, kneeling beside him.

  “You shouldn’t be up.”

  “I feel okay,” she said. “Really, Dad.”

  He pursed his lips. “We need to get him to the med bay and put a real bandage on this. Then I need you two to hide while I go deal with Greenwood.”

  “Hiding again? Are you sure that’s smart? There are three of us now. One of us is even a boy.”

  He ignored the comment. “We don’t have a choice. Ethan’s going to need a minute to get his bearings, and you don’t know how to fire a gun.”

  “I don’t think it requires a degree.”

  “I’ll teach you, but not today. Not under these circumstances. You’ll be safer if you can just stay out of sight.”

  A shockwave that shifted the angle of the ship made them flinch.

  “His ship’s landed,” Cutler said, looking up at the ceiling, as if the trouble lay there. He helped Ethan to his feet. “Think you can get him to the med bay on your own?”

  She lifted up Ethan’s arm and threw it over her shoulders. “We’ll take it slow.”

  He leaned forward and kissed his daughter on the forehead. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Dad. Please come back.”

  Cutler slipped his gun out of his hip holster. “I will. That’s a promise.”

  She gripped Ethan around the waist, helping him slowly walk across the debris littering the floor.

  When they made it out of the room, Cutler returned to the window at the front of the ship and took in the scene of destruction before him. Greenwood’s ship had taken out several dozen more trees than Waarheid and had paid the price. Its hull was smoking and there were several dead bodies already littering the ground around it.

  “Here’s to hope,” he said. If Greenwood was still alive, the trick would be to get to him first. If he could take down the leader, maybe his men would turn tail. It was a little overly-optimistic, but he didn’t have a lot to go on right now other than optimism... and luck.

  Luck was not on his side. As soon as his feet hit the dirt, six guns were trained on him. He worked his jaw in frustration. He wouldn’t be able to shoot his way out of this one. He tossed his gun aside and raised his hands in surrender.

  He peered around at the helmet-clad men in front of him. If there was anyone there who could listen to reason, he’d do anything to talk his way out of this one, especially now that he was weaponless.

  “Forward,” the man on the left said.

  Cutler refused to move. Better to test the limits of their patience now and see how far they were willing to go to get him to comply. The man stepped forward and brought the butt of his rifle down on Cutler’s shoulder, sending him to his knees, crying out in pain.

  “Get up,” the man said. “Forward.”

  Cutler looked up at the soldier. There was no emotion there. An obedient servant bred for this purpose.

  As Cutler got to his feet and shuffled forward, surrounded by the small unit, he took his time looking from face to face. Half of them seemed apathetic toward him, but the other half either looked sympathetic or afraid. He could work with that.

  “Hey,” he whispered to the soldier on his right. He looked young. “I’ve got a kid. She’s already lost her mother. She can’t lose me, too.”<
br />
  The kid’s face was stoic.

  “Please,” Cutler said. He forced his concern and fear to the surface, thinking about what would actually happen to Katherine if he didn’t make it out alive. “Please.”

  “Shut your hole,” the man behind him shouted. He emphasized it with a shove in the back with the barrel of his gun.

  Cutler squared his shoulders. These guys were too afraid to step out of line. They were probably either survivors who had little military training, or they were still sick and the government had promised to compensate them with a cure if they joined the army to track down someone they believed had answers or, at the very least, someone they thought was a traitor.

  Cutler’s hands twisted into fists as he thought about what they would do to Katherine and Ethan if they discovered there were two more people on the ship who had an immunity to KV.

  He waited until the blond kid took one of his hands off his weapon to wipe his forehead again and struck out, using his right elbow to break the kid’s nose and his left hand to grab the gun right out of his grip. Before any of the other soldiers knew what had happened, Cutler had one arm around the kid’s neck, using him as a shield against the others.

  “Get me Greenwood, or I’ll kill him and myself. You’ll have nothing.”

  “Let him go,” one of the soldiers said.

  “You’ll shoot your own man? Where does your loyalty lie?”

  “With me,” said Greenwood.

  Cutler turned to see a man approaching, and the soldiers parted to allow him passage. He had a black mask covering his face.

  “Are you sure about that?” Cutler chided.

  Greenwood paused for a moment, and then raised his weapon and shot the human shield Cutler held in front of him. He felt the kid jolt, then go limp in his arms. One of the soldiers let out a small sound of surprise. Greenwood turned to the sound, surveying the line for its origin. When he figured out who had made the sound, he shot him, too.

  “You just killed two of your own men to prove a point,” Cutler said.