The Oceans between Stars

by Kevin Emerson

  And he also remembered his future, in the skim drone: he’d seen the watch on Phoebe’s wrist.

  Liam leaned toward his earlier self: “Give her the watch.”

  The Liam in the past turned and looked right at him, and he remembered how odd that had been.

  “Give her the watch. Tell her to hide it.” Liam smiled at his earlier self, as if to say, It’s all right, I know what I’m doing. And yet, did he? He wasn’t entirely sure.

  Phoebe started to turn back around, and Liam pushed away, out of the moment, through the timestream as if on a breeze. Okay, what was next? He still needed to come up with a way to get out of that stasis pod. Could he just go to the future and open it himself? But he wasn’t sure if he could move past that moment when his physical body was trapped. Wasn’t that still technically his “present”? Also, even though he was doing this without the watch, wasn’t there still some danger that traveling into the future would alert the Drove, same as when he’d tried it before?

  That moment just before they’d landed still seemed like the best place to start. JEFF had behaved strangely. Maybe Liam could be the cause.

  He pressed himself back into the world again, saw his earlier self and the others in the cockpit as the cruiser entered the Scorpius’s docking bay.

  JEFF got up to lower the landing gear. Liam ducked into the galley as the bot rolled by.

  He wondered if he could just tell himself to leave, to fly off right now, or go back further to tell himself to get out of the Centauri system before they even hailed the Scorpius, but that wouldn’t solve anything—he was the only hope that Mina, Shawn, and the rest of the humans on the starliners had.

  So then, should he warn himself about the Telphons? But he wasn’t sure what good that would do, either. Maybe his best chance was to let the Telphons think they had taken care of him, and leave the Scorpius unguarded.

  JEFF had opened a panel in the floor and was manually cranking down the landing gear. When he stood, Liam stepped out.

  “JEFF.”

  “Yes L—”

  Liam threw a hand over JEFF’s mouth. “Don’t say anything. It’s me, but not the me who’s in the cockpit now. I’m from another time.”

  JEFF leaned and looked into the cockpit. Then back. Liam slowly took his hand away from JEFF’s mouth. “I can calculate no other possible explanation for your appearance,” JEFF said quietly, “unless you are the result of a malfunction in my perception pathways.”

  “It’s really me. I’m here, but I can only stay for a second. Listen, we’re going to be in trouble soon. Is there a way for you to shut yourself down for a while, so that you seem to be out of commission, but then turn back on?”

  “Let me calculate.” JEFF’s eyes flickered. “Yes. I could put myself into a lockdown state that would appear to be a total system failure. I could use Phoebe’s dampener to initiate it.”

  “Okay, good. And when you wake up, I’m going to need you to come find me fast. I’ll be in a stasis pod.”

  “Where?”

  “A couple decks down.”

  “Which stasis pod? My sense was that there are many stored on each deck.”

  “I’m not really sure. It was a blur.”

  “Then I will just home in on your link.”

  “I won’t have my link.”

  JEFF checked the cockpit again. “All of this is extremely complicated.”

  “Yeah, I know, but can you do it?”

  “If you will not have your link, perhaps I could find you via a subcutaneous tracking beacon.”

  “Yes. That will be perfect.”

  “Okay, I will need to inject that in your upper arm. Just wait right there.”

  “No, JEFF, it’s not for me. It’s for . . .” Liam pointed to the cockpit. “That me.” Then he pointed to himself. “I’m going to leave now. Oh, and don’t tell that me about this me. I mean, you won’t, but maybe that’s because I’m telling you not to now.”

  “I am not following.”

  “Just do all this, okay? You’ll need to be shut down for like fifteen minutes. Then come find me.”

  JEFF’s eyes flickered for a long moment. Liam worried that he’d shorted out JEFF’s systems, but finally, he said, “Acknowledged.”

  “Thanks. And JEFF. Don’t forget, or we’ll all die. Make a backup of this conversation log or something.”

  “Will do, Captain.”

  Liam breathed deep and turned in on himself and moved again. He remembered that he had one more stop to make, just a bit further back in his timeline. He pushed along, like swimming in one of those circulating lazy rivers they’d had back at the athletic complex on Mars, the world blurring around him as it ran in reverse. He felt a quiver in his stomach but realized that he felt far less nauseated and achey than he had in his prior trips through the timestream. And yet maybe he should be worried about that, too; what was happening to him?

  He watched himself in the cockpit, the starliners shrinking out of sight, the stars of the Centauri system retreating. He stopped and slipped forward, to the moment when JEFF was just beginning to hail the Scorpius. He understood this now: JEFF and past Liam and Phoebe had no idea yet that the Telphons had hijacked the ship, so if the Telphons and their sleeper agent captain heard JEFF over the link, then they wouldn’t believe the story later about JEFF being broken.

  He pushed into the moment, standing just behind his past self, and leaned down behind his own ear.

  “Tell him you want to hail the Scorpius,” he whispered.

  His past self twitched, and Liam remembered hearing this very voice, his own voice, and felt a strange sort of spiraling inside himself. Past Liam sat there frozen—he’d been confused by this—while JEFF began the hail. “Hurry!” Liam told himself. “Before he talks!”

  Liam watched his past self lean forward, remembered leaning forward and cutting JEFF off, asking to hail the Scorpius himself.

  Okay, everything was in place. Liam let go of the moment, drifting back into the timestream, and as he did so, his insides fluttered with fear. Now he had to return to himself, to stasis, and hope it all worked. But again he wondered: Did he have to just return to his present? Should he at least try going forward just a little, to be sure JEFF showed up?

  Maybe he should even try visiting that moment in the skim drone. Why were things blurry beyond it? Was it because he died there? How? If he knew, maybe he could figure out a way to avoid it.

  And yet, the chronologist had said that was not advisable. And even if it was possible, the Drove might just find him on his way there.

  Liam felt himself winding tighter, his emotions knotting in a ball. Maybe it was simpler than all that.

  Maybe he just didn’t want to know.

  He was nearing his present now, and he felt the terror again, of being locked in that stasis pod, his body going cold. Returning also meant losing control and hoping JEFF would come through and wake him up.

  One unknown at a time, his mother had said.

  Okay. He pressed into himself, like sinking into a frigid gray fog, and the world dissolved around him.

  A gasp, and he was suddenly back. On his hands and knees, the freezing metal floor wavering into focus. His eyes stung, his hands were clammy, body was shaking.

  “Welcome back, Liam.”

  He struggled to raise his head, gulping air. JEFF lifted him gently to his feet.

  “How long was I under?”

  “Approximately twelve minutes. I apologize—my reboot took slightly longer than expected. I had to briefly replay recent conversations to recover my damaged memory.”

  “It’s okay, JEFF. How long until the supernova?”

  “I calculate just under two hours.” JEFF’s head swiveled around. “Do you know the status of this ship? I detect no awake personnel, and without the VirtCom it is impossible to access its systems.”

  “Everyone’s in stasis,” said Liam, glancing back at the pod they’d put him in. “Or worse. And Phoebe—they all left. We nee
d to get to the bridge.” Liam tried to turn and stumbled into JEFF.

  “Acknowledged, but first you need a stasis booster. You were put into that chamber unprepared, and even that short period in hibernation has compromised your systems.”

  “JEFF, I’m not a computer, we can worry about how I feel later—” Liam tried to brush him off, but bright spots bloomed in his vision. JEFF didn’t know the half of it, with the effects of stasis compounded by his time traveling. It made him want to sink back again, try to get outside himself, this weak body that was trapped in the present.

  “I’m afraid this time, Captain, my safety protocols compel me to overrule you.”

  “Fine,” said Liam, still breathing hard. “Let’s hurry.”

  “Allow me.” JEFF twisted and scooped Liam off the ground in his arms.

  “Whoa, JEFF—”

  “Remain calm, Liam. I have you.” He began to wheel across the deck, a sound like crackling electronics coming from somewhere inside his body. “That’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  JEFF rolled to the elevators, and they zipped up to the level where the cruiser was parked. As they crossed the deck, there was a rumble and whine through the walls of the ship.

  “That star is becoming very unstable,” said JEFF.

  “Just hurry.”

  They reached the cruiser and the bot clomped up the stairs and set Liam on the couch. He rolled to the cabinets and returned with two orange pills in one hand and a syringe in the other. “Take these.” He gave the pills to Liam. “And—”

  “Ow!” Liam flinched as JEFF jabbed the needle into his shoulder, the opposite one from where he’d inserted the tracker, and depressed the syringe. “Now both shoulders are killing me.”

  “You will feel notably better in a minute. Please take those pills.” JEFF rolled into the cockpit.

  Liam swallowed the pills dry, then made his way into the galley and filled a cup with water.

  “I am no longer getting a link signal from the bridge,” said JEFF. “Nor can I establish communication with the other starliners.”

  “They killed the active command crews and shut down the bots,” said Liam, joining him in the cockpit. Liam looked at the dots on the navigation holoscreen—the giant starliners just sitting there. “All the passengers are asleep. Is there any way to wake them?”

  “We will need to check the condition of the Scorpius bridge,” said JEFF. “We may be able to reestablish the local link channel to send an activation command to the bots on the other starliners, who in turn can wake up another command crew.”

  “Can you do that in time?” asked Liam.

  “I will not be able to say for sure until I reach the bridge.”

  “Okay, let’s go, then.”

  JEFF put his hand on Liam’s shoulder. “I would advise that you stay with your parents until I determine the extent of the situation. In the event that I cannot for certain get the Scorpius to safety, you must have the cruiser ready to depart.”

  “But you’d come with us, wouldn’t you?”

  “My programming instructs me to pursue the safety of the most lives possible. If there is any chance I can save the millions aboard this ship, then I must do that, even if it means being here past Red Line.” He patted Liam’s shoulder. “You may have to leave without me.”

  “JEFF, I can’t pilot the ship alone, find fuel, all of that.”

  “Let me assess the situation.” JEFF rolled out of the cockpit.

  Liam felt as if he was freezing up inside. “Wait!” He darted out into the living area. JEFF paused on the stairs outside the airlock. “What about Mina? And Shawn? I’m not leaving without them.”

  JEFF’s eyes flickered. “I calculate that you will not accept the reasoning that it is too risky to try to find them in the limited time that we have.”

  Liam clenched his jaw. “Correct.”

  “Acknowledged. In that case, I will access the logs once I am on the bridge and let you know where she is.”

  “Shawn too.”

  “But Liam, what about Shawn’s father? And Shawn’s grandfather? They are on board. Shawn won’t want to be rescued without them. And Wesley’s cousin—”

  “Okay, I get it. We can’t get them all. But Mina . . .”

  “The sooner I go, the sooner I can tell you.” JEFF lowered himself down the steps.

  Liam’s throat tightened. “JEFF, be careful.”

  JEFF reached the deck and looked back. “Thank you, Captain Liam. I will follow all safety protocols.” He raised his arm and saluted, his panda face fixed in its permanent grin, then rolled toward the elevators.

  As soon as the doors slid closed behind him, Liam slammed his forearm against the wall. He hated being stuck here, waiting helplessly.

  He checked his parents’ pods—they were still functioning normally—and returned to the galley, where he found a nutri-bar and wolfed it down. Then he sat in the cockpit, his head still aching.

  He wondered where Phoebe was. Were they even still in this part of the galaxy? Or had they left, perhaps searching out the next starliner to attack? Had they awakened Phoebe’s parents yet, and did they know what she had done? Had she tried to convince them to stop fighting? He doubted they’d listen to her.

  He missed her—she was the only person on his side, perhaps in the universe, unless being with her own people had changed her mind again. He doubted that, too. There was no one as stubborn as Phoebe.

  His fingers drifted to his wrist, wishing he could go back to Mars and find her somewhere before everything had changed, but then he remembered he’d given her the watch. Of course he didn’t even really need it now. . . .

  The cruiser’s link blinked to life: Scorpius Command.

  “Liam, this is JEFF, come in.”

  “How’s it look?”

  “It is more serious than we realized; it . . .” JEFF paused as if he was searching for what to say. “Sorry, Liam, most of my processors are being rerouted. The Telphons wrecked the bridge. All of the comms and guidance systems are down, and they slaved the ship’s central operating systems to some sort of dampening program that is . . . keeping the bots from activating on their usual cycles. Therefore I am using my own processors to m-m-mirror the Scorpius systems while I repair them. . . .”

  “Are you sure you can handle that?”

  “I am uncertain, but I cannot calculate another option.”

  “What about Mina?”

  “Yes, I . . . The logs indicate that she was recovered. So, for that matter, were Shawn. . . .”

  Liam slid down in his chair and pumped his fist.

  “And Wesley. Mina’s stasis pod is stored in Core Two, S-S-Segment Three, but the log does not indicate a more specific location than that. It must have been compiled in haste.”

  “Core Two—wasn’t that the core with the big hole in it?” Liam asked.

  “Yes, Segment Three is in fact the one that was damaged. The hull breach shorted out its systems and gravity, but this actually made it easier to float the stasis pods into position. Each pod has a magnetic lock, which they used to attach them to the walkways.”

  “The segments are huge,” Liam said, remembering how long it took him and Phoebe to get from one end to the other when they had been on the Artemis. “Isn’t there a way to scan for her?”

  “All scanning functions in Core Two are offline. . . . I may be able to spare . . . some processing space to repair them. . . .”

  “No, that’s okay, I get it. You have to focus on fixing the ship.” Liam sat back, clenching his jaw, breathing hard. He checked the time: one hour and forty minutes until red line. Less than a blink of an eye in this universe. He felt like he was melting down inside, his hands balled into fists. He imagined Mina in her stasis tube, in the dark of that core—

  Liam looked down at his shirt. He pulled out the beacon and pressed its green top. It didn’t respond, of course, but Mina’s beacon would still be lighting up.

 
He stabbed the link. “JEFF, I know how to find Mina. You can reach me in the skim drone, got it?”

  “Acknowledged . . . but Liam, remember the time—”

  “Don’t worry,” said Liam. “I got this.”

  17

  TIME TO CENTAURI A SUPERNOVA RED LINE: 1H:37M

  Liam hurried into the cabin. Core Two was depressurized; he should use a space-grade suit to be safe. He pulled one from the closet and slid it on. He grabbed the helmet and a jet pack and had turned to go when he spied his Dust Devils jersey balled up in the corner. He grabbed it and stuffed it in his helmet, then ran for the hatch.

  He climbed into the skim drone, buckled in, and hit the main power. Lights began to flash around the console. Liam flexed his fingers on the controls and his mind slipped—there was the giant star, the supernova imminent, Phoebe beside him. He shut his eyes and took a long, deep breath, fighting the adrenaline coursing through him. Just because he was getting into the skim drone near the supernova didn’t mean that future was destined to happen. Phoebe wasn’t even here. Had to keep his mind on what was happening right now, in the present.

  All systems came online. Liam checked the battery level: 97 percent, even though it had been charging for decades, but the level was holding steady. JEFF’s patch seemed to be working. He detached from the cruiser and moved out from beneath it using short bursts of the lateral thrusters, then flew to the edge of the landing platform.

  Liam surveyed the decks above and below him. Which way would lead to Core Two? But he couldn’t be sure the skim drone would even fit through all the corridors and airlocks. It would be faster to fly outside and through that hole in the side. He rotated the drone and darted over to the airlock, where he sent a departure request. Yellow lights flashed around the perimeter, and the giant inner doors slid open.

  He flew into the airlock. Once the set of doors behind him had locked shut, red lights flashed and all the air and sound sucked away. The outer doors slid silently open in the vacuum of space. As soon as the gap was wide enough, Liam shot out into the dark. His fingers danced over the thrusters, arcing the skim drone along the front section of the starliner. It seemed so much bigger when you were in a ship this small, like it might roll over and crush you at any moment.