by Scott Baron
Once secured and functional, the ships would then return to the surface, where the alien workers could reattach structural components over them, completing the camouflage from the comfort of Earth’s environment.
Four-armed Chithiid-sized space suits were not an additional luxury the base had on hand, and the largest of the Trojan Horse ships could not fit in even the largest hangar by a long shot.
Fortunately for the Chithiid, Vince possessed an excellent mind for engineering, even of the alien variety, and his time was largely spent on the surface, helping them retrofit the vessels that weren’t on the moon, hopping from city to city when he was not lending his expertise to projects being worked on up on Dark Side.
He had most recently been in Philadelphia for several days, installing a rapid-deployment system to a recessed pulse cannon system, but would be hopping a shuttle and returning to Dark Side, and his woman, soon enough.
Meanwhile, out in orbit, the completed vessels were each carrying a skeleton crew as the Chithiid volunteers were shuttled up a few dozen at a time to move on to the next phase of their training.
Running drills aboard an actual ship.
In space.
In the dark.
With the gravity turned off.
The last bit was a protocol of Maarl’s design, and one Daisy thought Fatima would most certainly approve of. In fact, if Fatima didn’t have Sarah constantly running drills both inside and outside Dark Side Base––when Sarah wasn’t helping on the surface, that is––the silver-haired woman would have almost certainly sent her over to train with Maarl’s recruits.
“You will face many hardships when we strike at the Ra’az fleet,” he would tell his men in their pre-departure pep talk. “Ships may become damaged, systems may become compromised. You have all trained long and hard aboard these vessels while they were being retrofitted in the comfort of the planet’s atmosphere and gravity. When you are in space, these are luxuries, and while the vessel’s hide is thick and should protect you from the vacuum, you may be forced to fight in unexpected circumstances.”
The old Chithiid took a long, slow look across his men from his slightly elevated platform. He smiled. They looked good. Good, and hungry to learn more.
“Your next training cycle will teach you to adapt to those circumstances. To view them not as an obstacle, but as a situation you can turn to your advantage. Now, board your shuttles, and good luck. I will see you all back here when you have completed this phase.”
The Chithiid formed lines and began filing into their waiting craft, a little reticent, but nevertheless excited for the next level of training. Maarl wanted them to be ready for anything, and while he couldn’t simulate every situation, learning to move and fight in the dark, and even in zero-g at times, would give his men an advantage.
The first group, after a few weeks and many bruised limbs, had already become proficient in maneuvering through the vessels essentially blind. Their spatial awareness was enhanced, and when the instructors would suddenly shut off the lights, or cut the gravity, or both, they rapidly adapted and continued their tasks.
It was a skill that all involved realized could very well mean the difference between life and death.
“So what do you think, Freya? Is he done?” Commander Mrazich asked as he looked at his friend lying quietly in his cryo pod in Dark Side’s med lab.
“Well, that depends on what you mean by done,” she replied.
“You know what he means, kiddo. Is Harkaway cured of the plague he was exposed to?” Daisy asked.
“I mean, he might be,” she replied.
“No, Daisy, he’s not clear of the plague yet,” Marty interrupted.
“See? That’s not so hard,” Mrazich said. “Thank you, Marty, for a clear answer.”
“But there’s more,” Marty added.
Mrazich shook his head and sighed.
“Of course there is.”
“The thing is, Commander, it could take months, if not years, for him to be purged of the active plague by standard means,” Freya continued.
“What’s the ‘but,’ Freya?”
“But, that was because Mal had her fabricators work in conjunction with the cryo pod to replace any damaged cells, like the last time he was infected waaaay back when. So, he still has the remaining plague in his body, even though we’ve sterilized the rest of the pod.” The brilliant AI paused a moment. “So, uh, I kinda went ahead and inoculated him with the cure.”
“Wait, you can cure the plague now? I thought that was still a ways from being ready for testing,” Mrazich replied.
“It was, but I figured since he’s in there already, we might as well dose him and see what it does. Only, with him being in cryo, the drastic rate that his bodily functions are slowed means we really can’t tell what it’s doing.”
Daisy and Harkaway seemed to have mixed feelings about the news. Fatima, on the other hand, was decidedly optimistic.
“Freya, why haven’t you run a full-scale test of this potential cure yet?” she asked.
“Well, I mean, you know how challenging human conception can be, right?” the AI said.
“Challenging? Seems like breeding has always been one of humanity’s strong suits,” Mrazich said with a chuckle.
“What Freya means is that, given the genetic variances between mother and father, not all zygotes are created immune,” Mal interjected.
“Exactly. Thanks, Mal.”
“You are most welcome, Freya.”
“So the thing is, sure, this should be a cure, but without a proper test subject––not just cells in a test tube––we simply don’t know,” she said.
“And you say this would not only immunize the living, but also protect their offspring before they are born?” Fatima asked.
“We believe that’s what’ll happen,” Marty replied. “But we’re kinda stuck at the moment. The captain is in cryo, so our results are just too inconclusive. We are having the terrestrial guys check around for any pregnant females, though. If we catch one right after conception, we can isolate her from the environment, purge the plague, and test the zygote. If it’s not immune, we just have to wait till it’s born and see if the cure works.”
“Marty, you can’t use humans like that!” Fatima scolded. “Those are people.”
“We wouldn’t hurt them. We’d inoculate them up here in the purified environment of Dark Side, then once they’re born, we’d just put them in a sealed cryo pod and flood it with virus. The monitors would tell us within minutes––if not seconds––if an infection took hold or not. If it did, we’d just flash-freeze them in the pod while we let Mal’s machinery clear the infection, and then we’d start our tests all over again.”
“This process could take years,” Fatima said, shaking her head.
“Well, yeah,” Freya replied.
“But you are confident the cure you have designed will actually inoculate against the plague. For all humans who are not immune?” Fatima asked.
“It looks that way in lab tests, but we can’t say for sure yet,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry, Fatima. We tried. I mean, it’s not like Marty and me––”
“Marty and I,” Daisy corrected.
“I know. Let me talk.”
“Sorry,” Daisy said. “Habit.”
“So Marty and me, we’re like ninety-nine percent sure, but there’s always that one percent chance it fails.”
“And this is why we have begun scanning the population for––”
“I’ll do it,” Fatima interrupted.
“I’m sorry? What did you say?” a very startled Mrazich asked.
“I said I’ll do it.”
“Is she actually offering to be a Guinea pig?”
Yeah, Sis. I think she is.
“But it could kill her.”
I’m sure she knows that.
“But I don’t want her to die. And I’m sure you don’t either.”
Fatima was watching Daisy, well aware there was an intern
al dialogue taking place. She flashed her a warm, knowing smile.
“Daisy, you both know how long I’ve been here. How unlikely my survival was, even on my first day on Dark Side. And now I have a chance to help the cause and return the favor.”
“What do you mean ‘both’?” Mrazich asked.
“Why, Daisy and you, of course, Commander,” she lied, flashing a little wink to Daisy and her invisible ride-along.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Daisy asked, emotion welling up in her chest, making it hard to speak.
“Oh, Daisy. I’ve spent all these years looking down at Earth but never able to set foot on it. Scans and images have shown me the beaches and forests, but I knew it just wasn’t meant to be. But now? Now I have the very real chance to finally breathe the fresh air and feel the sun on my skin without it first passing through a half-foot of UV-protectant shatterproof glass.”
“She really means to do this, doesn’t she?”
Looks that way, Sis.
“Are you absolutely sure?” Daisy asked, the lump in her throat gradually lessening.
Fatima took her by the hands and looked deep in her eyes with warmth and love.
“It’s time to finally go home. I’m an old woman––”
“You’re not that old––”
“Daisy, I am. And I want to go home, or die trying.”
It didn’t take Mal long to set up a cryo pod aboard her ship. She thought it best to have Fatima in the heart of the Váli’s medical facilities in case something should go awry, and the kindhearted woman had graciously humored her.
The ship was nestled safely between the debris field and Earth, floating gently above its beautiful but deadly skies. Freya and Marty hovered quietly to either side, a silent vanguard watching and waiting.
Daisy and Sarah stood by, and Commander Mrazich had even taken a brief leave from the base to join them. He wasn’t about to let his old friend do this without him.
Mal had also rearranged her pods slightly, allowing the med pod to take up an unconventional location in an outer layer of her structure. While that meant it wasn’t as robustly protected by the ship’s bulk as it normally was, it also afforded her the luxury of installing a window where the secondary airlock door normally resided.
“A room with a view, Mal?” Fatima noted warmly.
“Of course, my friend. I thought you would enjoy a clear view. A real one, not over a video monitor.”
“And you were right,” she replied as she gazed at Earth, her eyes welling with emotions that even she had a hard time reining in.
“Are you sure about this?” Mal asked, gently.
“I am.”
Fatima had cheerfully given hugs to her friends on Dark Side before they launched, assuring them it was no big deal and she would see them soon. Now, however, with just the three other passengers present, her guard was lowered.
She hugged Daisy and Sarah in turn, planting a kiss on each of their foreheads, like a loving mother to her little ones.
“You two. You three,” she said with a wink. “Whatever happens, I have faith you will succeed in your mission. You’ve taken on such an important task, and you have no idea just how proud I am of you.”
“You’ll be fine, Fatima,” Sarah said, choked up.
“I know, darling,” she replied kindly, then turned and faced Commander Mrazich.
“And as for you, you old stick in the mud, I expect you to do whatever it takes to see our reclaimed world stays that way.”
“You know I will, my friend.”
She cracked a little smile. “Yeah, I do.”
Fatima looked out the window at the Earth below, a lone tear sliding down her cheek before she climbed up into the embrace of the cryo pod.
“Okay,” she said.
“You’re ready, Fatima?” Mal confirmed.
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Very well.”
The pod sealed around her, the lights cycling to a safe, green color.
“Administering the inoculation,” Mal informed them.
The cure had been designed to be easily spread––colorless, and odorless as it flooded the air. Inside the pod, it didn’t look like anything had happened at all.
“What happens now?” Mrazich asked.
“Now we wait for it to permeate her tissues. The uptake within her body should only take a few minutes. Then we will wait another doubling of that time to ensure maximum absorption.”
Fatima looked calm, staring out the window as the invisible panacea either did its work or didn’t, never once taking her eyes off the planet just below.
“It is time,” Mal informed them a short while later.
The lights of the cryo pod shifted to a very pale blue.
“Five seconds,” she announced.
There was no countdown. Those present were keeping track in their heads anyway. When the timer hit zero, a fine pink mist containing the plague flooded the pod, quickly dissipating and becoming invisible within the volume of air the pod contained.
Fatima glanced at her friends and smiled, then forced herself to let go of that iron-strong survival instinct and take a deep breath.
She began coughing immediately––a deep, racking cough that shook her entire body.
“Mal, do something!” Mrazich shouted.
“There is nothing to do, Commander,” she replied.
Fatima’s coughs diminished a few moments later. She turned to look at her friends.
“Just a tickle in my throat,” she said with a grin. “Is there more?”
“Just a moment, please,” she replied.
The lights of the pod ran through a full-spectrum shift as every cell of her body was scanned, then rescanned, then scanned again.
“I just need to discuss with Freya and Marty,” Mal informed them. “One moment, please.”
The ship went silent as the great minds conferred.
“You think she’s okay?” Sarah asked.
“I hope so,” Sarah replied.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Mrazich said. “I hope she’s okay, too.”
“Wait. He doesn’t know about––”
No. He’s just thinking what we all are.
The pod lights cycled back to a neutral white.
“Now what, Mal?” Fatima asked.
“Now nothing,” she replied as the pod cracked open with a hiss. “Fatima, you are immune.”
No amount of meditative training was capable of stemming the flow of tears that coursed freely down her cheeks. Judging by the leaking eyes of everyone present, it was the one condition in the ship that was contagious.
Fatima slid from the pod and walked to the window, pressing her hands to the thick glass.
“Mal?”
“Yes, Fatima?”
“If you would be so kind, I’ve got a date with that beautiful blue beauty down there.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Daisy and Sarah watched silently from the shore, seated comfortably on the warm sand, soaking in the ocean air. The sisters leaned gently on one another, a sense of unbelievable happiness and calm engulfing them both as they periodically wiped a tear from their eyes.
Standing out in the surf, the gentle waves coming up to her knees, Fatima’s smile was so big and so bright, it looked like it might actually split her face in two. The sheer joy radiating from her was almost tangible.
The wetness on her cheeks, though partly made of ocean spray, was mostly a salty trickle of something else as her eyes welled with overpowering contentment. Her eyes were open wide, taking it all in, as her lungs embraced the fresh breeze. The cheerful cries of the gulls overhead threatened to push her happiness over the top.
Every little thing seemed a miracle, and for the woman who had spent several lifetimes stuck on the moon, it truly was.
They were all being present in the moment, putting aside other concerns for the time being and simply enjoying the now, though Fatima was enjoying it far more than
the others. Still, a little tinge of reality hung in the back of Daisy and Sarah’s minds. The sisters knew very well that they’d have to get back to work soon enough.
“What do you think, Daze? The Chithiid crew up on Dark Side seems to be making some really good headway with the warp tech.”
“Chu got them steered in the right direction, once he pinned down each of their strong suits,” Daisy replied. “It’s really beginning to look like they’ll actually do it.”
“It’s kind of amazing, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. And they might even get a working version far sooner than we expected.”
“Let’s not forget Freya’s input,” Sarah noted. “And all while keeping the time travel thing a secret. You’ve gotta hand it to the kid, she’s really come a long way.”
“That she has,” Daisy agreed. “And Marty has been doing yeoman’s work, helping out, lending a hand between all the different projects up there. He’s an impressive AI, and Arlo has fit in really well too”
“Yeah, he and Finn are almost inseparable,” Sarah noted.
“It’s almost to be expected, Sis. Boys love knives, after all, and Finn has a bevy of them.”
“And he’s a damn good chef,” Sarah added.
“That too,” Daisy agreed.
“See? I knew you liked him.”
“Oh, give it a rest, will ya? Just because I appreciate his culinary skills doesn’t mean I like the guy.”
“You forget, we’re the same person. I know you like him.”
“You do, maybe, but our timeline diverged a long time ago.”
“It’s okay,” Sarah said knowingly. “You don’t have to worry about him running off and hurting you. I know he would never do that to you.”
Sarah groaned and flopped back onto the sand.
“Jeez, Daisy. Can’t you talk some sense into her? Or at least make her shut up?”
“Talk sense into you? Either of you? Fat chance, that. Nope, like it or not, Sis, she’s just as stubborn as you are.”
“With good reason.”
“Obviously,” Daisy agreed with a grin.
