by I. O. Adler
“You’re asking me? Is this a polite way of saying you don’t suggest it?”
“My function isn’t to intervene.”
“That’s not an answer. But if the caretaker isn’t responding, then what choice is there? If the Cordice are listening, I’m going to say hello. I’m also going to see if my mom’s okay.”
Diamonds played across the surface of She Who Waits’ skin. “I understand. I will continue to try formal communication with designate caretaker.”
Carmen was left with the feeling that She Who Waits wasn’t telling her something. But the thought of talking to her mom again was too tempting. Had she survived after Peter’s attack? Might she have input on how best to mend relations with the Cordice?
She hurried to the hallway and began to run. She stumbled and fell. The floor’s curve with no horizon and the slightest bounce from the ship’s interior threw her off. She got back up and settled for a fast walk, occasionally using a hand to steady herself. Back inside their sphere, Jenna was still asleep.
Carmen settled into her couch. Thought of the ship. Felt the fire tingle on her fingertips and the lights play across her eyes. Marveled that she could so clearly hear the soft gurgle of the water flowing in the sink.
Seeing the virtual controls pop up again in front of her was a rush.
Had Jenna felt this excited? Carmen forced herself to calm down. Focused on the ship, its location, and then looked for anything else nearby.
The harvester looked like a giant spinning top in its virtual form. All the component spheres had joined together, forming a massive central orb, with sections above and below that corresponded to the power plants and the electromagnetic drives.
At the moment they were passing Mars’s lumpy smaller moon, Deimos, along an elliptical path. The big rock looked like a half-dissolved cough drop, or a grain of sand under a microscope.
Carmen studied an object attached to the harvester that she could only examine externally.
It was She Who Waits’ ship. The vessel looked like a large “X” with a rectangular center. Something glowed at the tip of each “X.” The display marked the craft with its own green node.
Another mark on her display pinged for her attention. The object rode ahead of them on the same orbit and appeared to be miniscule until Carmen zoomed in.
The Cordice home ship.
The main trunk had multiple nodes. The twin rings circling the center were linked with support braces. For a spaceship, it was ugly, but Carmen knew that a sleek design and blinking lights weren’t what mattered. If other races sought out the Cordice for their spaceship needs, then perhaps they knew what they were doing. A large disc rested at the nose of the ship.
In her display, each component had a label. She realized she could access information on any part of the alien craft with a thought. But she remained wary of how long any distraction might take. Her curiosity could wait.
Time to make contact.
“Hello, Cordice,” she breathed. “Is anyone home?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Speaking to the Cordice home ship opened a bright green spotlight on her virtual control that was impossible to miss. The harvester went to work to facilitate her wish to communicate via a pulsing laser on the lower section.
The home ship’s communication node received the message almost instantly.
A new control visual appeared on top of the other ship. A communication portal. With a virtual touch, she’d be connected. She only hesitated for a moment and reached out to the Cordice home ship.
Her planned words of greetings vanished from her mind.
A nightmare filled her vision.
The fractured skeleton of a city stood in rubble among high mountains. Flames danced everywhere. A flying ship with a sheared-off wing careened past and detonated. Bodies lay strewn along a broad avenue, and the matchsticks of what might have been trees lined either side of the street. The sky was orange. The clouds around the nearest peak were swept away as a shockwave scattered them and took down the last remnants of the fallen city.
A huddled group of survivors hid in the stairway of what appeared to be a subway entrance. A tsunami of particulate and superheated air washed over them.
The vision went dark, only to pull back to the view of a green and honey-colored world with numerous smoking red wounds. Rocks streaked towards the planet and peppered the surface. A thousand infernos belched smoke. Geysers of steam rose from an ocean below the largest landmass.
Satellites and starships circled past, some burning in the atmosphere. Larger structures around a pair of moons hung shattered.
The terrible drama continued to play out and Carmen couldn’t stop looking. She wanted to turn away and retreat from the evil dream. Finally the vision faded, leaving her feeling empty. What world had suffered such a fate? Even as she confirmed she was linked to a Cordice communication node, she wondered if this was what Peter Vogel had seen.
Hell.
How else to make sense of it?
During their last moments following their initial abduction, he had somehow tripped upon the connection to the Cordice home ship and had witnessed this scene. It was one thing to believe in a fiery afterlife and another thing to face it. So which secret or not-so-secret sins afflicted Peter’s soul?
The vision had broken him.
But she detected no further options on the communication node. She took a step back and saw the portal remained open. As she again made contact, she again began to watch the apocalypse unfold.
She retreated from the vision, feeling disoriented, and disconnected to catch her breath. She felt certain the destruction she had witnessed was real. Was that the work of the enemy? Had that been the Cordice homeworld? And why did their communication node show it to her every time she connected?
At the sink she splashed cold water on her face. Ate another food bar. Her attempt at direct contact had hit a dead end. Perhaps She Who Waits had finally spoken with the caretaker.
“She Who Waits? Are you there? I wish to speak with you.”
Carmen hoped the harvester would transmit the request. If it didn’t she’d trek back to She Who Waits’ ship. But the alien glided into the room minutes later.
“I tried to connect. I thought I made contact but all I could see was a vision of a world being destroyed.”
“The record is fixed to their communication entry point. They require all who wish to visit their network to see it. It serves as a memorial and a call to joint effort against the enemy.”
“It was their planet, wasn’t it?”
“They lost their terrestrial civilization two thousand years ago.”
“They’ve been without a home since then?”
“The enemy has been waging its war longer than that. But yes, the Cordice were among the first trying to unify any survivors into a coalition. To the matter at hand, designate caretaker still isn’t responding to me.”
“What could have happened since you last spoke?”
“As I mentioned, they have been facing issues of functionality. Their ship is still in operation, but I fear they’ve suffered a breakdown. Perhaps it is of a technical nature. Or perhaps the caretaker has become impaired.”
How long could they wait? If the Cordice had been living on their ship and making plans for thousands of years, these beings existed on a timeframe unlike anything she had ever considered.
“I could bring the harvester in and dock with their ship, can’t I?”
She Who Waits flashed dots of white. “Confirmed.”
“That means handing them the ship without knowing if they’ll release Hamish and my mom. But you’re able to talk with them. And you have a ship and are committed to helping.”
“I am tasked to translate.”
“Which you can’t do since the Cordice aren’t answering. So can you take me to their home ship on board yours?”
“Yes, I can provide this service.”
Carmen considered asking if this would cost her
something but guessed the notion of paying for a ride was silly. But it meant leaving Jenna.
Her sister was awake and had managed to sit up. “I’m going with you.”
“We don’t know what we’re facing,” Carmen said. “Someone has to keep control of the harvester until I find Mom.”
“Is there any indication the Cordice have done anything to come take it back? It’s not going anywhere.” She paused. “What about Barrett?”
Carmen thought about it. “Our best bet is to take him with us. He might be useful. And while I’m sure we can keep him locked in here, if we get hung up it seems cruel to have him stuck inside a room he can’t get out of.” Carmen faced She Who Waits. “Your ship has water and facilities?”
“My ship can care for your physical needs.”
“How long will it take to travel to the Cordice home ship?”
“Several minutes. We can depart when you’re ready.”
Carmen helped Agent Barrett stand. He had fashioned a sling from his undershirt for his swollen hand. As they walked into the corridor he managed on his own after a moment of leaning heavy on her shoulder.
She filled him in on what they were about to do. “You’re not going to try to shoot anyone, are you? Do I need to search you for a backup weapon?”
“That was a mistake. And I don’t carry a backup piece.”
“You could have killed us, or her.” She nodded towards She Who Waits as the alien glided along ahead of them. “I understand if you’re freaked out. I am too. So is my sister. Promise me you won’t try anything crazy like that again.”
“I acted rashly. Hopefully we both understand what’s at stake. It’s hard for me to trust that this is going to end well. But right now it looks like we have no choice.”
“She Who Waits has nothing to gain by helping us. She’s here because it’s her job and the Cordice asked her. For all we know they could have sent a missile or found a way to steal their ship back and kill us. I don’t pretend to have answers for what’s about to happen. I just hope you’ll—” She almost said “play it cool” but stopped midsentence. “I hope you’ll help me get my mom back.”
He nodded. He appeared chastised. She didn’t imagine he had a spare weapon beneath his bulky suit, but anything was possible. For now she would have to trust him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Once in the hold of the translator’s shuttle, they strapped into fixed chairs which self-assembled from the floor. But unlike the crash couches on board the harvester, Carmen’s felt rough and grainy like she was lying on sandpaper. It also wasn’t as well cushioned.
If She Who Waits’ shuttle pulled as many g’s as the sphere had during their journey to Mars, Carmen doubted they’d survive.
Jenna and Barrett settled in without comment. She Who Waits remained at the front of the compartment. The columns moved and merged with the wall. Besides the ever-present hovering red light, which Carmen guessed was part of the communication and translation system, the Dragoman X-ship had no control panel and no portholes.
They were moving. Gently at first, but soon the ship pressed them into their uncomfortable chairs. The g’s never amounted to anything worse than a roller coaster, and only for a few seconds.
Barrett let out a jittery laugh. “This whole trip makes us astronauts. And we’ve now got more flight miles under our belts than ninety-nine-point-nine-nine percent of anyone on Earth.”
Jenna kept her head pressed back and her eyes forward. “I wish there were windows.”
Carmen focused on breathing. It wasn’t just the flight. Her stomach was in knots. This might have been a dream to people like Barrett. NASA had boasted of having a million volunteers for its next Mars mission, which would have included room for an artist. But now she was going to have to negotiate not only for her family but her entire world, and as much as she wished she could hand off the responsibility, Barrett had proven himself unable to act like anything other than a shortsighted government tool.
She Who Waits flashed a dense pattern of glimmering diamonds like carbonation in a clear glass of soda.
Carmen propped herself on her elbows. “Is there anything else you can tell us about what we’re about to do? Since the Cordice requested your help, can we also rely on you to be sure our needs will be understood?”
“I will facilitate communication.”
The curt answer was hardly comforting.
“We’re going to be okay,” Jenna said. “We’re together on this.”
Carmen wished she could be so optimistic. She lay back and closed her eyes.
The ship rotated and began to slow. Carmen felt a moment of dizziness. A vibration rolled through the vessel. Something outside the hull shuddered. A series of clicks followed and then all was still.
She Who Waits moved silently past and stopped at a hatchway. “The atmosphere on board the Cordice ship is intact and compatible. There is a higher oxygen level, but not enough to cause anything but the slightest elevation to your metabolism. Long-term effects are negligible.”
Carmen struggled to climb from her chair and wanted to be first at the door in front of Barrett. He looked like he was about to say something but didn’t. Jenna queued up behind them.
“I can have protective suits fashioned but they won’t be necessary. It would also take some time.”
“If you say it’s safe for us, then let’s not wait any longer.”
A fresh set of nerves had Carmen clasp her hands then cross her arms. She settled for gripping the hem of her sweatshirt as she eyed the doorway. Why hadn’t she asked She Who Waits about what the Cordice would look like? Any manner of monstrosity might be waiting behind the hatchway. Were they bundles of tentacles behind a pillar of sand and glass like the Dragomen? A sting-tailed bug with hundreds of teeth? Or a human with bad prosthetics on their ears and eyebrows?
She chuckled.
Barrett gave her a worried look. “I can do the talking. You got us this far.”
“Don’t even start.”
“This is delicate. I’ve taken a class on negotiating.”
“Remind me sometime to ask if you actually passed any of your training.”
The hatchway shushed open. The warm air hit like a musty blanket. A rank smell permeated it. It reminded Carmen of overripe fruit decomposing on the ground in the summer heat.
But no one was there to meet them.
The hall beyond the hatchway was dark metal. Unlike the harvester, seams ran down the walls and floor. The ceiling had ducts and conduits running along it. It felt less like a spaceship and more like a submarine. Were these the same people who had built the harvester?
She Who Waits wasn’t moving.
“Do we go inside or wait here?”
“Designate caretaker hasn’t responded. I have no further instructions.”
“Could they have missed our arrival?”
“Their computer is awake and facilitated my shuttle’s docking. We did not force access to their ship.”
Jenna craned her neck. “I wonder if they’re okay.”
“Could this be some kind of test?” Barrett asked. “They’re probably listening right now. Maybe they’re checking if we’re really going to give their ship back. Hello? We come in peace!”
“Don’t yell in my ear,” Carmen said. She touched She Who Waits. “Can you go and let them know we’re here?”
“No. I’ve informed them. Their ship will have alerted them to our presence.”
“You didn’t have a problem coming on board the harvester.”
“That was before I finished my assignment of relaying the Cordice message to you. I boarded to tell you in person what I could not over the radio.”
“So what are we supposed to do?”
Barrett sat back down on his chair. “That’s simple. We wait. Take a load off.”
Carmen hated that he was right. They waited. But after what felt like an hour, Carmen was up again and pacing about the shuttle’s cabin. Something was wrong. She and her sis
ter had come a long way to bring back a spaceship they hadn’t taken. And her mom was close. She could feel it.
She stepped into the hallway of the Cordice vessel. Her head almost touched the ceiling. Something about being on board this new ship gave her instant vertigo. The floor felt like it was about to spin out from under her feet. She grabbed a smooth wall and waited for the sensation to subside.
“Get back in here!” Barrett said.
She ignored him and called out as if walking into a neighbor’s home uninvited. “I’m Carmen Vincent. I’ve come to return your harvester. Can anyone hear me?”
He entered the corridor as if to grab her but immediately fell to a knee. He used his good hand to steady himself. “Whoa.”
“We can’t wait any longer. We’re expected. Let’s go find them.”
Jenna had less problem with her balance as she joined them. “I don’t want to be left behind.”
She Who Waits didn’t follow. The diamond pattern filled her from top to bottom. “I’ve taken the liberty of interfacing with their network. But there’s confusion. The Cordice are there but now too many are trying to communicate at once.”
Carmen waited for more, but She Who Waits had nothing else to share.
Both directions of the corridor appeared the same: straight, with a closed hatch at either end of the hallway.
“We’re going to look around and see if we can talk to anyone. Be right back. You’ll wait for us, right?”
She Who Waits didn’t respond. If the diamonds meant she was busy, then she was very busy. The pattern was more intense than ever.
Carmen went towards the closest hatch. Whatever movement the home ship was undergoing afforded them more bounce and less simulated gravity. Walking gave the sensation of being inside a sealed bus on a windy road and trying to walk the aisle, all while coping with a low ceiling.
The portal before her slid open in the blink of an eye as she approached, revealing more corridor. They walked forward and the door snapped closed behind them.
