Supernova

by C. Gockel

  Volka woke up in Sundancer, in one of the aft compartments. Her helmet was still on, but her visor was open. The ship’s interior was dark. Although her hull was translucent, it was night outside. They were hovering just a meter above a System 11 prairie. Brilliant Odessian stars were above; dry, autumn-thin grasses were below, and here and there great oaks sent shadowy, nearly naked branches to the sky. Nightwing hovered not far away.

  Her head was resting on something too hard to be a pillow, but there was an air mattress below her. The last few hours came rushing back. They’d dropped off their crews at the barracks, and then Noa, James, Sixty, and Volka had been invited back to the Presidential Guest cottage. She’d told Sixty that she was too tired, that she wasn’t walking into the cottage, wasn’t going to talk to the president, wasn’t going to take stims, and was going to sleep, and no one was stopping her.

  The pillow was Sixty’s arm. He’d said he’d needed to recharge and reboot anyway. She closed her eyes and heard the slight hum in his chest, quieter than normal, even considering he was in his suit. He was in power save mode.

  It had been mid-afternoon in Odessa when they’d arrived. She squinted at the Eastern sky. Now, it was perhaps two hours before dawn. Her mind caressed the wave. Carl had left the ship and was with Shissh in her Bengal tiger form, curled in front of the embers of a dying fire. FET12 had been with Orion assisting in the evacuation of the fighters from the emergency gate they’d set up in System Zero. Both of them were aboard Time Gate 11, aiding the Luddecceans who’d escaped the Uriel aboard fighters and hadn’t been returned to their home system yet.

  Sundancer was empty except for Sixty, Volka, and Bracelet … except that Bracelet wasn’t herself; she was just a simple machine for now. Bracelet was still in a Luddeccean fighter that didn’t have a faster-than-light carrier to take it home, and so was TAB. For a moment, Volka panicked, but then relaxed. No one was going to force either AI around while they occupied fighters, and not while they were in System 11.

  The hum beneath her increased in volume.

  “You’re awake,” Sixty said, a gloved hand rising to caress—well, the side of her helmet, actually. “You’re … all right? You feel well, I mean?”

  Volka laughed, not knowing why at first. And then realized. She was happy, she didn’t feel sick, and they were alone, really alone, for the first time in months. No matter what Carl said, she didn’t believe the Dark was really gone, but she did believe they had a reprieve for a little while. Whether that reprieve was a week or a decade, she wanted her life, her life with Sixty, to truly begin.

  And yet …

  Her relationship with Sixty had been almost completely chaste for weeks—a month or months, she’d lost count now. Some of that had been her hormone blockers, and some of it had been that they hadn’t been alone. Still …

  “Sixty, do you still want to marry me?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he replied immediately, but did not move.

  No kiss, no innuendo … there hadn’t been any in a long time. Her mind filled with doubts. He loved her as a friend, that was obvious, but maybe he had doubts. “I might not be able to satisfy you … your programming. Maybe we aren’t compatible—sexually, I mean.” Flushing, she sat up and took off her helmet.

  Sixty sat up beside her. “No one worries if they are compatible with sex ‘bots. That is one of the reasons I want to marry you.” His gaze was direct, intent, but he did not pull her to him.

  Volka blinked at him. “Are you still worried about your programming updates?”

  “Yes.” He was still charging; half of his metal skull was exposed for the cord plugged into his temple. He yanked it out abruptly.

  She remembered what Time Gate 5 had said about machines not usually lying. Was that worry the reason why his lips weren’t on hers? She put her hand on top of his. “I trust your programming.” He’d saved Alaric. She hadn’t doubted he would, but knew he had.

  “It’s not perfect,” he replied, gaze heavier than gravity. “I’ll need to keep tweaking it.”

  “That is true for everyone.”

  For a moment, the silence was profound. Her ears flicked madly, searching for sound she expected to be there but wasn’t, not even sure what that sound was. And then she realized he wasn’t breathing. He didn’t need to, except as an emotional response. He wasn’t breathing at all … because she’d made him forget to?

  “I think you are right.” He wrapped his fingers around hers. “Volka, some of my internal settings … I can remain faithful to you for the rest of my life, but I cannot rely on my monogamy switch. It is too …” His fingers tightened. “If I say ‘restrictive,’ it sounds like I’m trying to weasel my way to infidelity. It’s not that, though. I can be faithful. But the switch is too restrictive. I won’t be able to enjoy even the platonic touch of another human or machine or form meaningful friendships. It wouldn’t be healthy.”

  Through his speech, Volka’s heart sped up in alarm and then clenched in fear, and then became heavy. She tasted bitterness on her tongue. Bitterness at her own selfishness at a sudden memory. “The 6T9 Unit I met in New Grande—that I thought was you—he was set to ‘monogamy.’ I touched his arm, and he got upset. If that is what setting your switch to monogamy means, you’re right.”

  He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it. Her eyes slipped closed as heat spread from the simple touch. But, opening her eyes, she whispered, “That sounds like something you’ve thought about for a while. Why didn’t you bring it up earlier?”

  “Our relationship has been the only thing good in these last few months. I didn’t want to do anything that would disrupt that equilibrium.” He spoke quickly, without inflection. She believed every word. Her brow furrowed. He was Galactican; more than that, he was a “cybernetic consort.” She’d seen what he was without his Q-comm and without his monogamy switch on. He would have been happier if their relationship had been more physical. But he hadn’t wanted to rock the boat, because it had been the one good thing in a horrible time, even if it hadn’t been perfect for him.

  “We should talk about things sooner, not later, starting now.” Volka squeezed his hand. “I want to get married sooner, not later, Sixty. I know we will probably hurt each other sometimes and have more misunderstandings, but that is always going to be true.”

  He squeezed her hand back. “How soon?”

  Volka’s ears flicked as she calculated. “Two weeks.”

  Pulling his hand away, he began furiously patting down his body, to where he used to keep Eliza’s ashes, growling, “Wait, wait, wait.”

  Volka’s ears curled. “Wait … to get married?”

  “No, no, no.” With nervous-looking fingers, Sixty smoothed up his face so all his skin was on, and then began taking off his armor. “I have something.” He stopped. “Is my face on right?”

  It wasn’t. There was a wrinkle in his cheek. She pressed it down, smoothed his synth skin so it lay perfect. “Now it is.”

  He began peeling off his armor, chest plate first, and then the segmented torso section, so he was shiny limbs and normal human—or android, rather—in between. Against his stomach was something that looked like a tiny antenna and a small pouch, made of the same material he’d kept Eliza’s ashes in. He tossed the antenna aside. “Access key.” Clasping the pouch, he paused. “Maybe I should do something elaborate, but two weeks isn’t very long …”

  “Do something elaborate for what?” Volka asked.

  He stared at her. His eyes weren’t perfectly symmetrical. The speckles of color within them varied. The rest of him was perfect. Even the scent of oil. She leaned forward, about to kiss him, but he looked down abruptly.

  Blinking, she pulled back.

  Sixty shook a tiny velvet bag out of the pouch, and Volka’s lips parted in surprise. It looked like something you might keep jewelry in. Opening it, Sixty held it toward her. Inside it was silvery ring with a single purple stone. “Volka, would you marry me in two weeks?”

  Volk
a stared at the ring. How long ago had he gotten it? There had been no time—he must have been carrying it around for months.

  “It’s not a traditional engagement ring. It’s titanium and amethyst. Titanium is excellent protection against radiation. It isn’t conductive, so if I ever short circuit, it won’t shock you. It’s not heat conductive, and seeing as we have come through fire and ice together, that seemed important. You won’t get frostbite or burned by your engagement ring. It’s an amethyst because purple is the complement of yellow, and I like how purple brings out the yellow in your eyes. But well … if you don’t like it, we can get something else.” He didn’t sound like a machine at all. He was practically babbling.

  She pressed her lips to his. She caught him off guard, and he wasn’t prepared for it. The kiss was awkward, and yet she felt heat spread through her. The dull haze that the hormone pills had left in her was gone. She pulled back. “It’s perfect.”

  “Good.” Sixty gazed into her eyes, face very serious. He kissed her again, and it wasn’t awkward at all.

  She had to force herself away. They’d agreed there would be no misunderstandings. “Sixty,” she said. “I stopped taking my hormone suppressants about …” Her ears flicked. “… about forty-eight hours ago. My season will come on in about twenty-four hours.”

  Sixty’s eyes half closed, and his gaze slid to the side, as though he was doing a very difficult math problem, although math would never be difficult to him, even without a Q-comm. “Do you want to be alone?”

  Grasping his hand, she said, “No, I want to spend it with you, but I want to make love now, before … because, because, I don’t want our first time to be when I’m like ….” She shrugged her shoulders helplessly.

  Sixty leaned forward. He put a hand on her cheek. His eyes met hers. “You want to make love to me with your higher processor.”

  His words surprised her; it wasn’t how she would have put it at all, but as he pulled her down beside him, she decided that they fit perfectly.

  30

  Aftermath

  Luddeccea

  “Squeeeeaaaakkkkkk!” Isssh’s shriek from Kenji’s lap made Noa wince, but she only tightened her grip on the sledge her brother rode in, and if anything, increased the speed of her ice skates. Luddeccean pines were a blur behind their veil of snow, and the cold, clean Luddeccean air in her artificial lungs was a revelation.

  Her ether crackled with Isssh’s voice. “You’re going too fast!”

  Carl, wrapped around Noa’s neck like a scarf, lifted his nose. “Faster, steed, faster!”

  “Don’t encourage her!” Isssh protested.

  Bursting out in laughter, Noa half bent over her brother, but inertia kept the sledge and her skates sliding over the ice.

  When they slowed to a crawl, Isssh purred on Kenji’s lap and began to knead the blanket he wore over his legs. “That was, that was—”

  “Fun,” Kenji said.

  “Hmpf,” said Isssh.

  “Like old times,” said Carl.

  Noa smiled. It was like old times. Kenji had been a terrible, clumsy skater, and Noa had pushed him many times when they were small. This was a hundred kilometers away from their homestead, and more than as many years, but the trees were the same. Looking up at the pine-covered mountains surrounding the frozen lake, Noa inhaled deeply, relishing the scent, and then began to pump her legs again, but not as fast. She didn’t want to get back to the lodge. She wanted to enjoy the pines, the snow, and the cold with her brother.

  A whistling noise made her turn, and then a two-person Luddeccean fighter boomed through the sky. Noa tracked it with her eyes.

  “It isn’t a display of military might,” Kenji said. “They’re still searching for the Dark.”

  Noa shivered at his words. She knew Carl and Isssh believed it was gone—

  “We believe it is gone because it is gone,” Isssh said, giving his shoulder an agitated lick.

  “You terrified it!” Carl said, whiskers tickling Noa’s cheek.

  She believed that it was gone, however, “For how long?” Noa asked.

  The werfles were silent, and for a moment, there was only the sound of snow and wind in the pines.

  “Did we do the right thing?” Kenji asked suddenly.

  Carl and Isssh hissed.

  Noa blinked, unsure of what he meant, but then Kenji continued, “We destroyed a solar system …”

  Noa was shocked. Once upon a time, her brother had no doubts.

  Kenji continued, “I told Doctor Zeller that the fuel for the bomb seemed excessively rich, and that such a chain reaction could occur, but she was concerned about it working at all. Maybe I should have—”

  “No,” Noa said, letting them glide. “Don’t put the burden of it on yourself. The Dark would have destroyed all of us.”

  “Our intelligence has been telling me what they’ve been saying in the Republic—”

  Noa’s lips twisted, imagining the soirees among the power brokers of the Republic that Luddecceans might have spied on. “It’s easy to criticize when you are safe, when you don’t have to die, and your loved ones don’t have to die. By decrying Luddeccea’s actions, they get to feel like they are morally superior.”

  Kenji tilted his head and stared down at Isssh. The werfle squeaked and purred. For a few minutes, Kenji was quiet. Noa’s skates and the sledge slid over the ice.

  “I think that I could convince them to let you stay,” Kenji said. “And James, of course.”

  “Them” was the Luddeccean Council and the Luddeccean Premier, essentially the Luddeccean government. He said it as though he wasn’t a part of it. Maybe he wasn’t. On Luddeccea, they still believed in God, and that sometimes He took the form of lions, sometimes He called on his people to fight and to sacrifice, and sometimes He worked through living saints.

  But even with her brother’s reputation for saintliness … “I think that might be pushing your good luck, Little Brother,” Noa said, using an old nickname. Kenji was taller than her, but he was younger.

  “It would,” Kenji agreed, “but I know about the assassins on Earth, and I’d rather you not die, Little Sister.” He’d called her that as soon as he’d outgrown her.

  Noa took a deep breath and doubled their pace. Her skates cut across the ice. She liked the sound of them; it made her think of speed, adrenaline, cold, and freedom.

  “You still haven’t answered my question,” Kenji remarked.

  “We’re safe enough for now on Odessa.”

  Kenji was quiet for only a moment. “But you’ll go back to the Republic. Why?”

  Noa smiled, pleased he’d caught that. “You know me well.”

  She couldn’t see Kenji’s face, but she could hear his scowl when he responded, “I don’t know if I know you. But you said, ‘for now.’”

  She smiled wryly. “So I did. Why do you stay here?”

  “Because they need me,” Kenji replied, and then, “Ah. The same?”

  Noa let them glide again. “System 3’s Senator didn’t act alone. James and I have worked so hard to keep the Republic from falling apart; we can’t give up now.”

  “Do you think it’s possible to keep the Republic together?”

  Their forward momentum ended. They were at the curve of the lake farthest from the lodge. Noa gazed up at the mountains. “James says no.”

  James had said more on the matter. “The Republic had gotten too large. Civilizations are like stars, after they explode outward, they inevitably collapse in on themselves. But what is left over can still provide light and life.”

  “And you say?”

  Noa huffed, watching her breath mist in front of her face. James had a penchant toward the scholarly. She was more practical. “We can help clean up Fleet and Intelligence. We can help keep Sol System safe.”

  Kenji lifted his gaze to the mountains. “Both of those things are good for Luddeccea. I suppose I’ll have to allow it.”

  Noa blinked, and then snorted. Her brother’s
humor was wry, rare, and very welcome.

  He looked back at her. “Don’t die, Little Sister.”

  Her eyebrow rose. He said that from a sledge. His hair was white, and he looked fifty years older than her. Did he know about her body’s rejection of her implants? It was possible, but she didn’t want to dwell on that issue, an issue that was currently not an issue since her latest treatment on Odessa. “You, either.”

  “Hmmm…” Kenji scratched Isssh behind the ears. “You will have to come back more often, to keep us abreast of how things are going with Fleet, of course.”

  Noa smiled. “I’d like that.” She began pushing him back to the lodge. The Republic was changing, and not in good ways. She looked up to the mountains.

  Kenji asked, “Do you think James and Darmadi have gotten to the top by now?”

  Her husband—once the most wanted criminal on Luddeccea and an android—was on Luddeccea, by special invite. Luddeccea was changing, too.

  She scanned the mountain, trying to find the two men. James hated the cold, and he didn’t like skiing, but Alaric had offered—or challenged—and James had accepted.

  Not all change was bad.

  James dug a pole into the snow, slid one foot forward, and then the other, following Darmadi on a barely visible path twisting up Luddeccea’s Mount Evermore. He wasn’t as sure footed; the snow kept giving way beneath him because he wasn’t as light, and his every step was deeper than the human’s. Still, he’d fallen into a comfortable, efficient rhythm, and his greater strength was allowing him to catch up.

  And then he heard the Guard fighter. It passed just over the tree line with a sonic boom, shaking the snow beneath him, and it gave way beneath his left ski. Losing his balance, he slid-staggered sideways down the slope a meter and a half, thankfully coming to a stop on a narrow ledge. Had he been human, his leg might have gotten twisted, but he was undamaged.

  The snow beneath Darmadi hadn’t crumpled, and he hadn’t fallen. Sliding to a halt, he turned back. “Are you hurt?”