Nebula Awards Showcase 2012

by James Patrick Kelly

  After a short pause, Neuter Kimball said, “Why do you say Leviathan has real authority?”

  “She told me she is the first and greatest of all swales. Isn't that true?” I asked, suddenly worried that I'd been taken in by a swale con artist.

  “She told you?” Neuter Kimball said. “We are not supposed to talk of it to humans, but if she has revealed herself as a god to you, then that is her choice.”

  “A god? Leviathan is not a god. She's just…” I stopped. What was I going to say: an ancient immortal being who created an entire race of intelligent beings? If that didn't fit the definition of a god, it was pretty close. “Neuter Kimball, if you believe Leviathan to be a god, why did you join the Church?”

  “Because I do not want her as my god.”

  “Why not?”

  Another long pause. “I probably should not have said anything about her.”

  Going to see Leviathan to plead the case for Neuter Kimball had seemed like a great opportunity. Now I wasn't so sure. “If you think you will be in any danger from Leviathan, you don't have to go.”

  “Do you believe God is greater than Leviathan?” Its alto voice was plaintive.

  “Yes, I do,” I said.

  “Then I will have faith in God and go with you.”

  Unlike the much larger solar shuttle that had brought me to Sol Central Station, the observation shuttle had room for only two people. I strapped into the copilot's seat next to Dr. Merced, although we were both essentially passengers because the shuttle's computer would do the actual piloting.

  After getting clearance from Traffic Control, the computer spun up the superconducting magnets for the Heim drive and we left the station.

  On a monitor, I watched the computer-generated visualization of our shuttle approaching the energy shield that protected us from the 27 million degrees Fahrenheit and the 340 billion atmospheres of pressure. I held my breath as the shield stretched, forming a bulge around the shuttle. Soon we were in a bubble still connected by a thin tube to the shield around the station. Then the tube snapped, and our bubble wobbled a bit before settling down to a sphere.

  “You can start breathing again,” said Dr. Merced with a wry smile.

  I did. “It was that noticeable?”

  With a chuckle, she said, “The energy shield is not going to fail. It's a self-sustaining reaction powered by the energy of the solar plasma around it.”

  “Yeah, but on the station I can usually avoid thinking about what would happen if for some reason it did fail.”

  “The good news is, if it did fail, you wouldn't notice.”

  “There's a backup system?” I asked.

  “No.” She grinned. “You'll just be dead before you have time to notice.”

  “Thank you for that tremendously comforting insight, Dr. Merced,” I said.

  “Look, we're going to be shipmates for the next couple of days, so why don't you drop the Dr. Merced bit and call me Juanita?”

  I nodded. “Thank you, Juanita. And you can call me…Your Excellency.”

  Juanita snorted. “I can already tell this is going to be a long trip. Oh, looks like our escort has arrived.”

  On the monitor, a swale twice the size of our energy shield bubble undulated closer. A text overlay read Kimball (Class 1, Neuter).

  “Let's get the full view,” she said and pressed a few buttons.

  I gasped as a full holographic display surrounded us, as if we were traveling in a glass sphere. Against the yellow background of the sun, a giant swirl of orange and red swam alongside us. “Kimball” was superimposed in dark green letters.

  “Can I talk to it?” I asked.

  “Computer, set up an open channel with Kimball,” said Juanita.

  “Channel open,” said the computer.

  “Hello, Neuter Kimball,” I said. “It's nice to finally meet you.”

  “It is nice to meet you, too, President Malan, although I hope you will forgive me for not shaking your hand.”

  I smiled. “Forgiven.” I was constantly surprised how much swales seemed to know about our customs and culture, compared with how little we seemed to know of theirs. “And I'm here with Dr. Merced, who is a scientist—”

  Juanita laughed. “It's known me a lot longer than it's known you.”

  “Hello, Juanita,” said Neuter Kimball. “I'm glad you are with us.”

  “Shortly after I began my work here,” Juanita said, “it was the first solcetacean I observed personally. It went by the human name Pemberly back then.”

  “Another swale had transmitted Pride and Prejudice to me, and I decided to seek out humans to see what they were like,” Neuter Kimball said. “You are a fascinating race.”

  The thought came to me that maybe there had been some pride and prejudice between me and Juanita—possibly because she was annoyed that a swale she particularly liked had become a Mormon. But maybe we could work out our differences and—I shoved that thought away. “Swales are also fascinating. I hope to understand you as well someday as you understand us.”

  “Kimball, our shuttle is on a course to take us to Leviathan, so you can just follow us,” said Juanita. “But stay at least fifty meters away from us.”

  “I will keep my distance,” said Neuter Kimball.

  I must have shown my puzzlement, because Juanita pressed a button to mute the call and said, “Solcetaceans and energy shields don't play well together. A few years back, a Class 1—about Kimball's size—was showing off for a couple of observers, and glanced off a shuttle's energy shield. It tore a big chunk off the solcetacean that took months to heal.”

  “What about the shuttle? And the people inside?” Sometimes I got the feeling she cared more about swales than about people.

  After a moment, Juanita said, “This shuttle was the replacement.”

  “What happened?”

  “The shield did not collapse, but part of the solcetacean made it through—probably because the shield works similarly to how solcetaceans hold their bodies together, so the shield sort of merged with the solcetacean's skin. When they recovered the shuttle, they found that the plasma had vaporized part of it, including the crew compartment.”

  “I guess it's good I didn't hear about that before coming on this trip,” I said.

  “Don't worry—this shuttle was built with an ablative shell specifically to withstand that sort of accident,” she said. “So I'm really more concerned with what would happen to Kimball if it bumped into us.”

  “Or Leviathan?”

  “Leviathan's so big, she might not even notice.”

  I spent most of the sixteen-hour trip polishing and improving what I would say to Leviathan to convince her to outlaw coerced sexual activity. I had been a debater in high school and college, so I felt I knew how to construct a convincing argument. But eventually I reached the point where I felt I was making my prepared speech worse, not better.

  “Approaching destination,” the computer said.

  I blinked a few times to clear my eyes, straightened up in my seat, and began looking around. Neuter Kimball's orange and red form moved silently beside us. I scanned the holographic image for more orange and red, but didn't see any.

  “There,” said Juanita, pointing ahead of us. She pressed a button, and dark green letters sprang up: Leviathan (Class 10, Female).

  Staring harder, I noticed a bright spot above the letters. As we drew closer, I could distinguish white, violet, and blue swirling together. “She's not orange or red.”

  “It's all false color, anyway,” Juanita said, “but this imaging system uses color to indicate energy levels. Leviathan is actually hotter than the surrounding solar plasma. We think she carries out fusion inside herself.”

  Leviathan grew in our view, stretching out to fill most of the holographic screen in front of us. The intricate dance of violet and blue amid the white was mesmerizing. Eventually she shone so brightly that I had to squint to reduce the glare. “Aren't we getting too close?” I asked.


  “We're still three kilometers away,” Juanita said. But she added, “Computer, hold position relative to Leviathan.”

  “Neuter Kimball, are you ready?” I asked.

  “I feel a bit like Abinadi going before King Noah,” it said.

  I kind of agreed, but I said, “Try to think of it as Ammon going before King Lamoni instead.”

  “That would be better,” said Neuter Kimball. “But I am ready in any case.”

  Juanita hit the mute. “What was that about?”

  “References to the Book of Mormon. Abinadi was burned at the stake after preaching to King Noah, but King Lamoni was converted by Ammon's preaching.”

  She just shook her head, muttering something about fairy tales, then said, “Computer, set up an open channel to Leviathan.”

  “Channel open,” the computer replied.

  “Leviathan, this is President Malan,” I said. “I have come with my church member, Neuter Kimball, as you requested. We petition you to tell your people—”

  “Silence, human,” boomed the voice from the speaker. “It is not yet time for you to speak.”

  I shut up.

  “You will come with me,” Leviathan said. Her form brightened. There was a blinding flash, then the holographic system compensated and lowered its brightness.

  It took several seconds before the afterimage cleared enough for me to make out shapes. Leviathan still loomed in front, and Neuter Kimball remained beside us.

  “Uh-oh,” said Juanita.

  “What?” I blinked hard, trying to clear my vision. The sun's background seemed blue instead of yellow.

  “I don't think we're in Kansas anymore.” Juanita tapped at her keyboard. “Leviathan ported us to another star—one with a core much hotter than the Sun. Looks like the shield is holding, for now.” She took the Lord's name in vain—or possibly it was a heartfelt prayer for help—and added, “We're stuck here unless she takes us back.”

  “What about Neuter Kimball?” I asked.

  “Only a Class 6 or larger can open a portal on its own.”

  Green letters began popping up on the screen. Unknown (Class 10, Male). Unknown (Class 9, Female). Unknown (Class 10, Neuter). Unknown (Class 8, Male). My eyes adjusted enough that I could see their forms. Dozens of swales surrounded us, all of them tagged Class 8 or higher.

  “What have you gotten us into?” Juanita said.

  I said a silent prayer and hoped for the best. “It's a great opportunity for both of us. Think of what you're going to discover.”

  She took a deep breath. “You're right. It's just that I was prepared to study Leviathan, not sixty Class 8 and up. No one's ever seen more than three or four giant ones together.”

  “Is Leviathan the biggest one here?”

  After checking a readout, Juanita said, “Yes, but not by much.” She pointed at a swale off to the left. “That male is only about 2% smaller.”

  “So it looks like she wasn't lying about that.”

  She nodded her agreement, then said, “Why did you say it's a great opportunity for you?”

  I swept my arm across the view. “These must be the most prestigious swales, the leaders. If I can talk to them, convince them to make a law against sexual assault, then the smaller swales will accept it. That has to be why Leviathan brought me and Neuter Kimball here.”

  “You are wrong,” said Neuter Kimball. Juanita must have taken the mute off at some point.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “This is a deathwatch council,” said Neuter Kimball. “They are here to watch me die so they can tell all swales that my death was deserved.”

  “What?” I said. “What have you done?”

  “I'm sure Leviathan will—”

  Leviathan's voice cut Neuter Kimball's off. “This little one has abandoned me in favor of a human god. Such error I could forgive. But on its behalf, the tiny human seeks to impose its moral code on us. The human's mind is infinitesimal compared to ours. The human's life is short, the history of its race is short. It is the least of us, and yet it seeks power over us.”

  “I don't seek power over—” I began.

  “Silence!” Leviathan thundered. “The human must see the error of its ways. Kimball!”

  “Yes, Leviathan?”

  “Your life is forfeit. But I will grant reprieve if you will renounce the human religion and return to me.”

  I had read of martyrdom in the scriptures and history of the Church all my life. But nowadays it was supposed to be a merely academic exercise, as you examined your faith to see if it was strong enough that you would die for the gospel of Christ. Actual killing over religious belief wasn't supposed to happen any more.

  And I found my own faith lacking as I hoped that Neuter Kimball's faith was weak, that it would deny the faith and live rather than be killed.

  “I am to be Abinadi after all, President Malan,” said Neuter Kimball. “I choose to live as a Mormon, and I will die as one if it be God's will.”

  “It is my will,” said Leviathan, “and I am the only god who concerns you.”

  Tendrils of white plasma reached out toward Neuter Kimball.

  “I am the greatest of all,” said Leviathan. “Bear witness to my judgment.”

  I hit the mute button and said, “I've got to stop this. This is my fault.”

  Juanita's eyes glistened. “I warned you about interfering. But it's too late to do anything now.”

  “No,” I said. “If you're willing to drive this thing into Leviathan's tendrils, it may give Neuter Kimball a chance to escape.”

  She stared at me. “The shuttle's meant to survive a glancing blow. A direct hit like that—we could die.”

  The tendrils closed around Neuter Kimball.

  “I know, and that's why I'm asking you. I can't force you to risk your life to save someone else's.” I hoped I was right about how much she cared about swales—and Neuter Kimball in particular.

  After looking out at Neuter Kimball, then back at me, she said, “Computer, manual navigation mode.” She grabbed the controls and began steering us toward the white bands connecting Leviathan to Neuter Kimball.

  I turned off the mute. “Leviathan, you claim to be the greatest. In size, you probably are.”

  White filled the view ahead.

  “But not in love,” I said, speaking quickly as I didn't know how much time I had left. “Jesus said, ‘Greater love hath no man than this: that he lay down his life for his friends.’ He was willing to die for the least of us, while you are willing to kill the leas—”

  A flash of bright light and searing heat cut me off. I felt a sudden jolt.

  Then blackness.

  And nausea. After a few moments, I realized nausea probably meant I was still alive. “Juanita?”

  “I'm here,” she said.

  The darkness was complete. And I was weightless. Maybe I was dead—although this wasn't how I'd pictured the afterlife.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “I'll tell you what didn't happen: the energy shield didn't fail. The ablative shell didn't fail. We didn't die.”

  “So what did happen?”

  Juanita let out a long, slow breath. “Best guess: electromagnetic pulse wiped out all our electronics. The engine's dead, artificial gravity's gone, life support's gone, comm system's gone, everything's gone.”

  “Any chance—”

  “No,” she said.

  “You didn't even let me finish—”

  “No chance of anything. It's not fixable, and even if it was, I haven't a clue how to fix any of those things even if it weren't totally dark in here. Do you?”

  “No.”

  “And no help is coming from Sol Central because not only do they not know we're in trouble, but also we're in another star that could be halfway across the galaxy. When the air in here runs out, we die. It's that simple.”

  “Oh.” I realized she was right. “Do you think maybe we succeeded in freeing Neuter Kimball?”

  “May
be. But it didn't exactly look like Kimball was trying all that hard to escape.”

  “Well,” I said, “maybe it was thinking about how Abinadi's martyrdom led one of the evil king's priests to repent and become a great prophet. Perhaps Neuter Kimball believed something similar would happen to one of the great swales who—”

  “Whatever Neuter Kimball believed,” she said, her voice acidic, “it was because you and your church filled its mind with fairy tales of martyrs.”

  I bit back an angry reply. Part of me felt she was right. At the end, Neuter Kimball had seemed to embrace the role of martyr. Would it have done so if not for the stories about martyrs in the scriptures?

  And I had been willing enough to risk my life, but now that I was going to die, I found myself afraid.

  Juanita didn't seem to need a reply from me. “And what's the point of martyrs anyway? A truly powerful god could save his followers rather than let them die. Where's God now that you really need him? What good is any of this?”

  “Look, I'm sorry,” I said. “If it weren't for me, you'd be safe at home, and Neuter Kimball would be alive. I've made a mess of things.”

  “Yes.”

  Hours passed—floating in darkness, it was hard to tell how many. I spent it in introspection and prayer, detailing all my faults that had led me here. Biggest of all was pride: the idea that I, Harry Malan, would—through sheer force of will and a good speech—change a culture that had existed for billions of years. I thought back to what I had been told while serving as a nineteen-year-old missionary on Mars: you don't convert people; the Spirit of the Lord does that, and even then only if they are willing to be converted.

  Juanita spoke. “You were just trying to do what you thought was right. And you were trying to protect the rights of smaller swales. So I forgive you.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  The shuttle jolted.

  “What was that?” I asked. My body sank down into my seat.

  “It sounded—”

  An ear-splitting squeal from the right side of the shuttle drowned out the rest of her reply. I twisted my head around and saw sparks flying from the wall.

  Then a chunk of the hull fell away and light streamed in, temporarily blinding me.