Two days after that, Rada announced the ship was ready. They assembled at the port the following morning. The shuttle had been removed, the solder blasted loose, the holes patched. He wouldn't say the Tine looked new, but it did look good. Beautiful, even, and deadly, in the way of swords from ancient Ryukyu. Japan, rather; that had been its name in those days.
He climbed in and found a seat in the main cabin. Rada scanned the displays. When everyone and everything was ready, she launched, boosting out to clearance distance and then braking the Tine short.
She twisted in her chair, floating against her straps. "Where to, buddy? Inner? Outer? Wherever rabbits go to buy shotguns?"
"Earth," Webber said.
"I hear it's large. Any particular part?"
"I'll tell you once we get there."
"They're pickier than most about granting flight plans. But it'll be another two days before I have to call it in."
Webber waited until both those days were up to let her know. There was no point in delaying, yet he understood exactly why he did it: because, until he spoke it out loud, it wasn't really real.
"Idaho," he said, then laughed. "Of all the places in the system, we're going to Idaho."
"What," Lara said, "is Idaho?"
"The Panhandler virus' ground zero." Rada smiled with half her mouth. "Jain was very into xeno history. Figures she'd hide the answer where we made first contact."
"The rabbit isn't a real rabbit," Webber said. "It was my mom's way of telling me to be creative. If the Swimmers ever came back, the last place they'd look for us would be ground zero."
"Love it. But I do hope you can narrow it down a little further. Idaho isn't exactly small."
"Don't worry." Webber stared at the stars, trying to pick out Earth. "I know exactly where to look."
~
The mountain loomed above them, green and tremendous. It was early summer but the morning was crisp. Webber scowled. It had been years since he'd spent time outside of a climate-controlled environment. Some people loved seasons and weather, the cycles and unpredictability of a planetary atmosphere, but Webber thought those people were insane. Why not always be comfortable?
Hiking up the mountain was like traveling back in a personal time machine. She had done this on purpose, he knew, directing him to a spot that could only be reached by the slow, thoughtful, archaic process of walking. Thus subjecting him to hours of time in which to meditate on his childhood, when they had been so happy, before Dinah got sick and Webber began to understand that, in the choice between her kids and her work, his mother would always look to the latter first. This place, this trip—it was pure manipulation.
And it was working. The tang of the pines evoked a thousand memories of hikes, of fishing and swimming in the streams, of running through the meadows with their smell of sweet pollen. Wind rustled the grass and the needles.
It was nice, he'd give it that much. Enough to make you think that maybe humanity should have stopped bludgeoning its way forward after the invention of the mill and the plow. The spaceships, the stations, the warrens…all of them put together were less than this one morning on a mountain nobody wanted.
But we had to press outward, didn't we? Because of the plague and the aliens who'd sent it. It was either learn to build hives in every nook of the galaxy, or be wiped out by those who'd left their homeworld behind.
By afternoon, he found the cabin. It looked like it hadn't been used since their summer vacations: windows broken and shuttered, holes staved in the roof, the dirtiness of a thing being reclaimed by the earth it had been torn from. Webber gazed at it a moment, remembering Dinah running in the back door, tracking mud, their mother too exasperated to yell.
The trail was overgrown with thorny blackberries, but Jain must have passed through it not long ago. And unlike her, Webber had friends to help him clear the way.
The trail led to a centuries-old foundation completely hidden by shrubs and leaves and fallen rocks. There was no agreement on the exact spot the Panhandler had started from—in fact, most theories argued that it had to have emerged at dozens of points at once to achieve such complete, swift, worldwide saturation—but the record of the Ancient United States' outbreak began on this mountain, and his mother believed, for reasons he'd never fully grasped, that the precise location was this old house.
He went straight to the crack in the cement where they used to leave messages for each other. There, he found the video chip.
"Can I watch, too?" Rada said. "Or would you rather be alone?"
He shook his head. "Without you, I never would have found it."
He flipped it on. His mother's face appeared on his device. Strong. Resolved. She was smiling, yet there were tears in her eyes.
"Hi Pip," she said, voice creaking. "I'm so sorry you had to find this."
And then he had to pause it, because he was crying too hard to see.
19
Rada's impatience burned hot enough to char her, but she let Webber take his time. After he calmed down, he wiped his eyes on his shirt, blew his nose in the grass, and resumed the video.
"Because it means," the dead woman continued, "that I won't get to see you again. I had more to say to you, though, which was part of what this was about. Trust me, I considered contacting you through more conventional methods. I knew you weren't dead. But I didn't want FinnTech to know that. If they did, I have no doubt they'd hurt you to get to me."
On the device's screen, Jain Kayle glanced down, possibly to consult her notes. "I'm going to explain everything. Everything that can be explained, at least. But keep watching, okay? Because there will be something more for you at the end. The most important thing I have to say."
She took a deep breath. "For me, this road started years ago. I'll spare you the personal history and fast forward to where it kicks off in earnest: my involvement with Valiant Enterprises."
As she launched into a lengthy explanation, Rada transcribed a summary into her device, something for Toman to wolf down before tackling the main course. With Valiant, Jain had signed on to a program meaning to answer the most perplexing question of the time: why couldn't probes, cameras, or ships make it out of the system? To attempt to answer that question, they'd come up with a number of plans, including inserting a camera into a comet on its way back to the Oort Cloud. Any transmission could give it away, so it was programmed not to Needle home unless certain triggers were met—the detection of engines, biological matter, other transmissions, and so on.
Meanwhile, Jain relocated to Hoth, a free-floating facility on the fringe of safe Outer space. There, she observed the ice, rocks, and vacuum of the deep beyond. Like so many others, she found nothing.
Months later, she got a transmission.
"That transmission is included in the appendices," Jain said. "It is a video of an encounter between a FinnTech ship and an alien vessel."
There in the woods, the four of them turned to each other, swearing, crying out. Webber paused the video until everyone was coherent enough to resume.
"Their communications—also included here—regard the gifting of a technology," Jain said. "The simplest way to describe it is to say it nullifies changes in momentum. If you have this object on a ship, say, and you accelerate, you won't feel anything. This is even bigger than it sounds, because the ship doesn't feel it, either. Not only do you not have to worry about the limits of the human body, but you don't have to worry about the ship's frame. The only limits are its engines and its fuel."
"We saw that." Webber paused the vid again. "That's what was on the Specter."
"The UFO, too," Rada said. "We underestimated how fast it could burn. That's why…"
"You're alive," he finished.
He turned the vid back on. Jain was smiling now, lost in the wonder of what she was describing. "Can you imagine what this means? We can get outside the system. All we have to do is build a big enough engine. And find someone foolish enough to ride it."
She shook her head, gr
inning, then composed herself. "It sounds like a hell of a gift, right? Until you think of the questions it raises. Why do the Swimmers—the people who nearly destroyed us—want us to be able to escape our Solar System? If they want us to have it, why do they want their involvement kept secret? Why pretend that FinnTech discovered it? Is this the first time the Swimmers have contacted us, or is this how FT 'invented' artificial gravity, too?
"The secrecy alone would be reason for gravest concern. Our acquisition of this technology demands it be studied and explored in public. Even if it turns out to be a wholly innocent gesture of reconciliation, a blessing, then there is no reason for it to be controlled by FinnTech. It should be available to everyone."
She narrowed her eyes. "That you are watching this, however, strongly implies it is not an innocent gift. As does the fact that, when we Needled Valiant to inform them of what we'd seen, they locked us down and immediately dispatched a sanitation crew to purge us of our records. I had to hide my copies in a pebble outside the station. Convinced yet? No? Well, how about the fact Valiant is in merger talks with FinnTech?"
"Merger?" Rada said. "No wonder she came to us rather than Iggi Daniels."
"So there you have it," Jain concluded. "One of humanity's largest corporations is striking clandestine deals with our ancient nemesis for technology that will change everything. I don't know what should be done about it. That's why I came to the Hive. Whatever you decide, attached to this message is all the proof you'll need. I trust you to make the right decision.
"In exchange, I ask just one thing: show the rest of this message to Peregrine." She waited a beat, then looked directly into the camera. "Pip, I know you've always resented my interest in my work. I don't blame you. I wasn't there as much as I should have been, especially after Dinah grew ill. But I want you to know…" Her eyes went bright. She sniffed and righted her voice. "I want you to know that the only reason I could pursue this was because I knew that you would always take care of your sister. I'm so proud of you, Pip. I can only hope I've made you proud of me."
She smiled. The recording stopped, Jain's face frozen on the screen, gazing up at Webber. Webber stared through it, cheek twitching. He set the device on a log and walked into the woods.
Rada watched him go, then scribbled more notes onto her device. She wanted more than anything to Needle Toman the news, but she couldn't risk having the evidence intercepted. Not after the lengths Jain had gone to keep it out of FinnTech's hands. No, they were going to have to deliver it to the Hive in person.
Webber walked back five minutes later. His eyes were red, his face puffy. He picked up the device from the log. "Think we ought to see what all the fuss was about?"
He switched over to the attached files. The first was a view of blank space, fixed stars untwinkling on a black field. One by one, they winked off in a line, reappearing moments later. Something was moving across them.
The view cut to a face. Webber shouted and threw aside his device, scrambling back. Rada and the others retreated a step, too. Webber laughed shakily and picked up the pad from the bed of dead leaves.
The face was smooth and egg-shaped. Fist-sized eyes bulged angrily. A thin neck connected the alien's head to a long, tapered body held horizontally above the ground. A score of tentacles, claws, and spindly legs projected from its body.
A nightmare. A Swimmer. The creatures who, a thousand years ago, had smashed humanity's future. Driven them to the brink of extinction. And then disappeared, never to be seen again.
"Holy shit," Webber breathed.
Rada was struck speechless. She had spent years with the Hive, fastidiously hunting down stories, relics, and evidence of aliens in general and Swimmers in specific. Toman had devoted his life to it. Now here she was, watching one in action.
The alien gestured, tentacle tips wiggling. A flat, nongendered voice said, "Hello, you who have traveled to meet us. Is this because you have brought us a decision?"
When the view cut again, it was to a human face. One that Rada recognized: the handsome, happy face of Thor Finn, interplanetary magnate of FinnTech.
"The decision was never in doubt," he said. "Only the details. They're always the devil, aren't they?"
The alien face was expressionless. "There is no devil. Only the Way."
There was more—much, much more—but all it did was back the claims Jain had already made. Watching all of it would have taken hours. Promising they could see the rest during the flight, Rada shut it down and led them down the mountain. The silence of the slopes made her feel as if intelligent life had never existed: rocks, trees, insects, nothing more.
~
With Earth a fading blue dot behind them, Rada stood from her chair and turned to face the others. "I appreciate your help so far, so I'm going to be straight with you. You'll be staying at the Hive until this is over."
"Let me guess," MacAdams said. "You have no idea how long that will be."
"I intend to expose FinnTech as soon as I can. I can assure you that you'll be compensated for your time."
"That's all I need to hear."
Lara raised her hand. "Sounds like you want to set us down like a hammer at the end of a job. What if we want to keep fighting?"
"How do you intend to do that?" Rada said.
"You're going to kill him, right? The ghost in the UFO? Seems to me we may be the only people who've seen him in action and survived."
"I'm not sure how useful that's going to be. I bet this comes down to trickery and firepower."
Lara tightened her jaw. "We're not a bunch of ground-huggers. I'm a pilot and these two are marines."
Rada glanced to the two men. "Does she speak for you?"
"If the price is right," MacAdams said.
"They murdered my mother," Webber said. "I'm in this to the end."
That night, with the others asleep in the cramped bunks, Rada found herself in the tiny galley. She hadn't meant to go there, but now that she was, she couldn't seem to stop staring at the dispenser. She thought she ought to toast Simm. He deserved it. After what she'd been through, she did too. Anyway, without it, she wasn't going to be able to sleep. One drink—slug it back, then go to bed. It wouldn't mean anything. She would wake up tomorrow and be fine.
She got a plastic cup from the holder in the cabinet and set it under the dispenser. Her hand trembled.
Steps shuffled in behind her. She whirled. Though her hands were empty, she put them behind her back. Webber stood across from her, blinking at the hard light.
"Can't sleep?" she said.
"Nodded off for a few," he said. "Then I saw that thing's face. Its eyes. Don't think I'll be sleeping again for a while."
"Me neither. We've all seen the movies. I've seen plenty of drawings. The Hive archives even have three original photographs from the invasion. But nothing can prepare you for seeing them in the here and now."
"It's kind of like sex in that regard." He laughed and leaned against the counter. "Except shocking and horrible and it makes your skin want to crawl off your body."
"So it's like your first time." She grinned, then let it fade. "How are you doing?"
"Fine. Better than fine, honestly. I never expected to hear from my mom again. I didn't want to." He looked her in the eye. "Thank you for finding me, Rada."
"Wasn't easy." She put the glass back in the cupboard. "But good things rarely are."
A few hours out from the Hive, she Needled ahead to inform Toman that he would want to clear his schedule. She included her innocuous-looking emergency phrase in her signature. He replied to inform her he would be awaiting her arrival.
At port, she stepped out of the umbilical to the terminal and bumped right into him. She introduced him to the others, who looked starstruck. Even MacAdams didn't have many words. Toman was gracious with them, welcoming them to the Hive and assuring them all their needs would be tended to, but Rada knew him well enough to see the impatience in his gestures. As soon as he could, he shunted the others off on his ass
istants, hustled Rada to his cart, and peeled out.
In his office—a cluttered place of screens, devices, and bug-hunting paraphernalia throughout the ages—he shut the door, flipped on his security, and turned on her.
"Talk," he said. "Talk talk talk."
"We found Jain's message," she said. "She saw something she wasn't supposed to. FinnTech is sitting on brand new anti-momentum tech. Accelerate, turn, stop on a dime, you won't feel a thing."
His jaw dropped in affront. "Thor Finn solved the Jelly Problem?"
"The what?"
"The Jelly Problem. As in, if you try to fly like fun insists, you will be crushed into jelly."
"Don't get too jealous. He had help." Rada bit her lip. "It was given to him by the Swimmers."
Toman developed a Jelly Problem of his own: his face went slack, his hands dangling limply. "Rada, if this is a joke, stop it right now. Otherwise, I'm flushing you out an airlock. Warning: I am not kidding."
"I know," she said, "I'm not, either. We have the transmissions right here."
He took her device, began to open the files, then made himself stop. "Let's take this to Hyrule. Security's better there. Besides, I have the feeling we're headed there anyway."
He drove so fast the cart all but flew. At Hyrule, he ordered the LOTR to lock the building down and gather at the table. Sensing the gravity of the moment, they flew into action.
As Toman fed the device to the room's main screen, his employees fell silent, listening reverently as Jain Kayle spun her story. None of them uttered a word. Not until the first video transmission played and the alien's face popped on the screen. They shouted, leapt from their chairs, exchanged high fives. Liam and Nora burst into tears that were equal parts joyful and scared. When Rada glanced at Toman, she saw that he was weeping, too.
Between watching the extras and hashing out an initial strategy with the Lords of the True Realm, it was hours before Toman rose, rubbed his eyes, and beckoned Rada to follow. He took her to a side chamber made up like an ancient Christian temple: pews, candles, stained glass, statues of saints.
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