by Isaac Hooke
The team members drew back.
“You, bring that ladder here,” Cora told Lui. “Rest it on the Acceptor.”
Lui grabbed a ladder that was racked against the far bulkhead, and leaned it against the broad Acceptor, which was still attached to the top of the shuttle.
“Shaw, use the ladder,” Cora said. “Climb onto the Acceptor.”
Cora escorted Shaw to the ladder. Shaw started to put Alex down.
“No, bring Alex,” Cora said.
Shaw glanced at Rade. He didn’t nod, didn’t give her any indication that she should obey. Nor did he shake his head, or imply that she should refuse in any way. The choice had to be hers.
Finally Shaw’s gaze returned to Cora, who had kept the blaster aimed at Shaw the whole time. Shaw reluctantly reached up and began climbing the ladder with one arm while holding Alex in the other. Cora stayed well away from the other Argonauts, keeping them in view while the robot followed Shaw with the blaster.
When Shaw reached the top and pulled herself onto the Acceptor, Cora leaped upward with a sudden spurt, arcing over the shuttle and landing on the Acceptor beside her. Then Cora went to Shaw and dragged her away from the edge. Rade could only see their upper bodies because of the angle.
“Where are you taking her?” Rade asked.
Shaw gazed down at him with tears in her eyes. She seemed afraid, but there was something else... complete and utter sadness. She rocked Alex slowly in her arms. The boy shouldn’t have been involved. Shaw’s eyes seemed to plead with him, saying: “Rade my love, my heart, if you can’t save me, please, save Alex. Please.”
Rade resolved in that moment to stun Cora. If it meant Shaw must die when the robot squeezed the trigger, then so be it. Alex would live. That would be the trade.
Before he could act on his decision, Shaw and Alex vanished; apparently the delay that Zhidao had programmed into the Acceptor had passed, and the device activated. Cora’s arms had switched positions so that the blaster pointed directly at Rade.
He dove to the side, but took a glancing blow to his shoulder. The suit armor absorbed the impact.
Rade didn’t have to give the order to fire: the rest of the team let Cora have it. Plasma channels erupted from stun weapons, striking the robot, and sending it into spasms before it dropped to the Acceptor, falling out of view, at least from Rade’s current angle on the deck.
Rade leaped onto the Acceptor at the same time as Surus. He turned the body over to examine the chest piece, but there was no longer any sign of Phant possession.
“Where is it?” Rade said.
“Zhidao must have seeped out after firing the blaster,” Surus said. “These Purples are fast.”
“Argonauts, fire stun rifles at the shuttle!” Rade said.
He hurried to the edge of the Acceptor. While the Argonauts concentrated their fire on the shuttle, Rade shot randomly at the deck, in case the Phant was headed somewhere else.
Without warning the hangar bay doors opened. Since the atmosphere hadn’t first vented, as per protocol, Rade and the others were forced to activate their magnetic mounts to avoid getting sucked out. Fret didn’t mount in time and was pulled into space.
Weapons were lost throughout the party. Rade barely held onto his rifle, gripping it by the strap.
The second shuttle in the hangar bay activated of its own accord and took flight, accelerating into deep space.
The airlock leading back to the outer corridor finally sealed off, thereby containing the breach. Rade landed on the deck as the atmospheric outflow ended. Fret jetted inside a moment later.
“We shot the wrong shuttle,” Tahoe commented, staring out at the open hangar doors.
“Close these doors!” Rade said.
The bay doors closed and the interior began to pressurize.
“Bax, did you detect the Phant aboard the second shuttle?” Rade asked.
“I have analyzed the departing shuttle’s interior camera systems,” Bax said. “I indeed spotted the Phant flowing toward the AI core before it seeped inside and vanished.”
“Bax, fire our undamaged point defenses,” Rade ordered. “Take that shuttle down.”
“I am firing,” Bax said. “But the shuttle is issuing evasive maneuvers.”
“Then we’ll have the mercenaries run it down,” Rade said.
“Unfortunately, the shuttle was jury-rigged to carry some sort of missile launcher,” Bax said. “And it just launched a Hellfire. At high speed. I suspect the Phant is inside.”
“And how did this missile launcher get aboard?” Rade asked suspiciously.
“Unfortunately, it appears while I was hacked, I authorized the transfer of a Hellfire from our inventory to the shuttle,” Bax said. “And had the warhead removed, and the propulsion systems upgraded. Plus I apparently 3D-printed a custom launcher.”
Rade shook his head. “And you did all of this under Shaw’s nose?”
“Yes,” Bax said. “Over the past five hours.”
“Can we catch that missile once we get our engines back online?” Rade asked.
“No,” Bax said. “Nor can any of the Mauraders. It’s too fast.”
“What’s the destination?” Rade asked.
“The inner system,” Bax replied. “I don’t have a precise fix on a destination yet. It’s too early.”
Rade leaped down from the Acceptor and approached the pedestal inside the shuttle. The Time Selector was still in place.
Surus joined him.
“Where are Shaw and Alex?” Rade demanded. “Why didn’t they return?”
“It appears they didn’t make it to the recall site,” Surus said. “They would be dead sixty-five million years now.”
“Then we’ll go back and make sure they make the recall!” Rade said.
“That won’t work,” Surus said. “Because the two of them already missed the recall, even if we intervene and take them to the necessary site in time, the universe won’t allow them to return. Their removal from this timeline has already become a permanent part of history.”
“No,” Rade said softly. “I can’t believe it. Not after all we’ve been through, for their lives to end, like this. It can’t be possible. Why would Zhidao do this? Instead of killing them outright? Why go through all the trouble?”
“I don’t know,” Surus said. “To divert our attention while it fled in the second shuttle? Or to enact some form of elaborate revenge? The motivations of individual Phants can be hard to fathom, as you may have realized by now.”
The ramifications of what had happened finally hit Rade full force. Shaw. Alex. Gone. He felt an immense, soul-destroying guilt. First for deciding that he would allow Shaw to die in order to save Alex. Second for not acting fast enough on that decision.
Rade collapsed on the deck of the shuttle and let his arms fall between his leg assemblies. “It’s over. Done.”
Surus began to pace back and forth while the other Argonauts watched in silence from the bottom of the ramp. Rade hardly noticed any of them. Tahoe and Bender said something over the comm, but Rade didn’t hear.
Surus knelt in front of him and then gripped him by the shoulders, apparently wanting to ensure that she had his full attention.
“There might yet be a way to save her,” Surus told him.
Rade felt the hope welling inside him. “Tell me.”
“There is a potential loophole in the paradox,” Surus said. “I hesitate to say this, because I’m not sure it will work, but...” And then she explained.
When she finished, Rade nodded slowly. “It makes some sense, and it’s the only hope we have. Prep the device to send us back in time.”
She wrapped her glove around the Time Selector and did her usual Phant interfacing. When done, she looked up, defeat etching her features. “We can’t.”
“What do you mean, we can’t?” Rade said.
“I just checked the destination time,” Surus said. “It overlaps with our own. Shaw, Alex and Cora arrived about two and a
half hours after we did, which explains why we didn’t encounter her. The universe won’t allow two copies from the future to exist at the same time, remember?”
“But wait,” Rade said. “The Phant went back to the same time period.”
“Yes,” Surus said. “But in a different host. As inter-dimensional beings, Phants can bend the rules slightly, since we don’t fully exist in this reality. As long as Zhidao stays inside his new host, he will be treated as a single copy by the universe. However, if he attempts to leave the host, he will cease to exist.”
“Well, he returned,” Rade said. “So it looks like he obeyed that rule to the letter.” Rade shook his head. “These time travel laws can get pretty tangled up... all right, so we can’t personally go back. Then we’ll send someone else who hasn’t traveled back before. Or something: the Centurions. Algorithm, Brat, organize a team and get down here now.”
“Roger that,” Algorithm said. “Who would you like to watch over Sil in my absence?”
“Choose one of the remaining Centurions,” Rade ordered the robot.
“The Selector indicates the recall period was set to only an hour,” Surus said. “Which explains why she had trouble making the return trip. When the robots arrive, they won’t have much time to do what they need to do.”
“They’ll succeed,” Rade said. “They have to.”
“I’ve finished patching the system,” TJ announced over the comm. “Zhidao will never be able to use the exploits to bypass our systems ever again. On the plus side, it’s been a learning experience for me. I’ve added the cyberattack to my arsenal. I’ll be able to use it against other vulnerable starships.”
“That’s great,” Rade said.
“You don’t sound too happy,” TJ said.
He realized TJ probably didn’t know what had happened. “There’s been a... hiccup. I’ll update you shortly. Rade out.”
Rade walked down the ramp and joined the rest of the Argonauts while waiting for the team of Centurions to arrive. He stared up at the Acceptor.
The Centurions will succeed.
And if not, he would have to come to terms with the fact that Shaw and Alex were lost to him forever.
twenty-seven
Shaw held Alex in her arms, trying to shield him from the cruelty of this world. Alex was getting heavier as lactic acid built up in her muscles, and her neck was developing a crick from his tight grip, but she forced herself to hang on.
Alex was weeping the whole time. Zhidao had told him in no uncertain terms that Alex must remain silent or the robot would shoot mommy. The dutiful boy had obeyed as best as he was able, and other than the occasional whimper, he had kept his mouth shut.
She gazed down at Rade imploringly through the tears, feeling so helpless. She begged him with her eyes to stun the Centurion, if only to save Alex. The possessed robot would likely get off a shot, and Shaw would probably die. But Alex would live. That was all that mattered at the moment.
Rade, standing on the deck below, seemed to understand, because his features suddenly hardened and his knuckles turned white on the rifle he held to one side.
But then the compartment was gone, replaced by thick vegetation.
She felt the repressive heat immediately, and glanced around in confusion. She was in a jungle of some kind. A lush canopy of leaves shrouded the sky, growing from trees whose trunks were coated in suffocating vines. Lianas hung from those branches, thick cable cords that almost reached to the ground.
The air felt oppressive on her tongue, and smelled of dew and rotting vegetation. She heard the flutter of wings as some disturbed creature—a bird?—flew away from the branches overhead. Birdcalls and squawks echoed through the rainforest, punctuated by the occasional distant roar or cackle.
The increasing burn of lactic acid in her right arm brought her mind back into her body. She shifted her grip on Alex, transferring more of her son’s weight to her left arm to give the right side a rest. Alex also adjusted his own grip so that he wasn’t pulling as tightly at her neck, thankfully, and braced his legs against her sides.
Blue dots drew her attention to her overhead map, showing the location of several Centurions from the Argonaut that were deployed out there, hidden behind different trees and shrubs nearby. She felt an immense relief: no doubt Rade had sent the robots back some time before now, attempting to employ the same strategy he had used the last time he ambushed the Phant.
Cora immediately stepped behind her and dragged her backward by the utility belt, forcing her to retreat. Her feet sunk slightly with each step.
Zhidao. That was what the robot called itself now that its chest piece shone with purple condensation. Zhidao, not Cora. A Phant who had apparently known Rade from the First Alien War.
Zhidao planted his back against the thick bole of a tree, and placed her and Alex squarely in front of him. Though she couldn’t see it, Shaw felt the blaster press into the hinge of her jaw, forcing her to raise her head slightly.
“I know you’re out there, watching,” Zhidao said loudly in that sweet voice Cora had chosen for herself. “Waiting for me to make a mistake and lower my guard. But it’s not going to happen. Drop you weapons and show yourselves. Unless you want me to kill her and the child where they stand. Because you do know that stunning this body with those plasma channels of yours will not prevent me from unleashing two final shots. Do you really want to risk firing? You truly believe I won’t be able to mow down the two of them after you strike?”
Shaw hadn’t considered that Zhidao might be fast enough to shoot her and Alex both. Maybe it was for the best that Rade hadn’t fired earlier.
Centurions leaped down from the trees, and others walked around the boles, coming into view. Shaw checked her overhead map, and saw that some had remained in cover.
“All of you,” Zhidao said.
The remaining blue dots moved out into the open.
“Now toss your weapons away,” Zhidao said, “and turn around, placing your hands behind your heads.”
“Do it,” the lead Centurion, Algorithm, said.
The robots threw their stun and laser rifles away and swiveled, resting their polycarbonate hands on their heads.
The pressure of the blaster on her jaw ceased, and from the periphery of her vision she was aware as Zhidao stepped out from behind her. He fired in rapid succession, taking out three of the robots almost instantaneously. The remaining six reacted before they, too, were shot down, diving away into the undergrowth.
Zhidao continued firing, stepping forward as he did so until he was parallel with Shaw.
A smoke grenade landed in their midst and cloaked Shaw’s vision in darkness.
She turned around and ran across the spongy ground.
Still carrying Alex in her arms, she emerged from the smoke. Branches whipped at face and neck, cutting open her exposed flesh. She kept Alex held closely to her chest as she ran, and shielded his head with one hand. She had forgotten any exhaustion in her muscles, the adrenalin coursing through her veins giving her renewed strength.
Shaw saw flashes of polycarbonate in the trees on either side, mirroring her advance, providing escort. Centurions. She counted four in total, two per side.
She glanced at her overhead map, but when she realized the robots weren’t showing up, she felt a surge of hope: these escorting Centurions had smartly deactivated their comm nodes to remain hidden. The first group was merely a distraction.
Speaking of that first group, only two blue dots remained. As she watched, those final two turned dark.
The conclusion was obvious: Zhidao had gotten them.
Shaw prudently deactivated the comm node in her own Implant and continued running.
But then two of her robot escorts dropped out of the race, vanishing in the underbrush. The other two spun about a moment later, bringing their rifles to bear as they halted.
Shaw heard two loud clangs as something struck the robots, and then silence.
Shaw kept running through the
foliage. Her face throbbed in pain as fronds continued to smack her skin. Her cheeks and forehead felt wet from the blood and sweat.
She wasn’t sure how long she ran like that. Ten seconds. A minute.
She tripped on something, but swung about as she fell so that her body would take the brunt of the impact, not Alex’s. She hit the ground hard.
“Oof.”
Alex had let go of her. She put one scraped arm down on the mossy ground and pushed herself up, dragging her son up with her.
“Are you all right, baby?” Shaw asked quietly.
Alex nodded hurriedly. His face had become soiled, thanks to the fall, but otherwise he seemed uninjured.
Shaw heard the snap of branches and fronds as something approached through the foliage behind her. She spun about, and spotted the ferns quailing in a moving line as the passage of something hidden in the undergrowth disturbed them. She immediately ducked out of sight behind a large tree trunk, crouching to avoid stirring the hanging lianas.
She glanced at Alex and held a figure to her lips. The disciplined child nodded, his eyes wide saucers.
Staying low, and keeping Alex close, Shaw slowly peered past as the rustling grew in volume, and what she saw emerging from the vegetation scared the living daylights out of her. It looked like a giant bird, because of the feathers and the tiny wings it seemed to have. Except no bird had a reptilian jaw filled with sharp, serrated teeth like that. And then there were the claws that were large half-moons attached to the tips of its tiny “wings,” with more razor-sharp talons on its hooves. The thing was obviously a killing machine.
Her military-grade Implant instantly analyzed the structural core and computed a skeleton, based on the creature’s shape, and used the internal database to label the creature a “Utahraptor.”
The human-sized creature was on course to pass a few meters to the right side of the tree she hid behind; when the Utahraptor started swinging its head toward her, she immediately ducked from sight and shrunk her body even lower, hoping to vanish into the undergrowth. There was a large fern beside her, which offered a screen of sorts. She wrapped both arms around Alex and pulled him into her chest, keeping his head well away from the creature as she tried to shield her son with her body.
