by I. O. Adler
“And we’re just supposed to trust that he doesn’t get voted back in and start launching missiles?”
“They’ve invited an arbiter from the Framework to inspect their ship. The remaining missiles are disabled. This vessel has been recalled and will reconnect with the Framework. I’m recommending you tell the Cordice to do the same and join us. I’m going to do what I can to get them on the same page.”
“Why you? You’re a prisoner there. I saw it. Am I to believe you’re able to act as spokesperson now?”
Her mom’s voice held a note of sadness. “Honey, it’s complicated. I see what’s at stake here and understand what’s going to happen. The Melded were willing to save my body in exchange for a chance at the harvester. I’m alive because of them and out of the Cordice simulation. And enough of the Cordice understand that they can’t run from this enemy. We also can’t wait much longer. With the Cordice home ship and its simulation back at the Framework, we can consolidate resources. The harvester will be used for everyone. No one needs to be left behind. With you and Jen here, we can be reunited. We can live.”
“Inside a computer world.”
“If need be, yes. The Cordice will allow it. With their last blight they’re barely in control of their own vessel. The Melded have repeatedly offered to crew their ship. But there’s other ways we can be together. I’m told that Jen isn’t well. She may not have long. But the Melded can help if she’s brought to the Framework. I believe this is the best choice. Come with us. There are others in the Framework who want to chase down the enemy and take the fight to them.”
“You were hooked up to their machines. Are you still you?”
“I’m me. They’re repairing what the Cordice can’t, that’s all.”
“According to the Cordice, you’ve left part of yourself behind.”
“And they’ll give that to me when we’re back together.”
The second red light was still waiting. Carmen had put the Cordice on hold. No doubt they had heard and seen what had almost befallen them. Annihilation, and their world would have ended a second time.
But they had waited this long, so they would keep for a few more minutes. She went to Jenna’s bed. Opened it. Her sister had sunken eyes and dry froth on her mouth. Her abdomen wound was stitched up with the white webbing, but the skin was horribly dark and shot through with red and deep purple splotches. An antiseptic smell barely concealed the fetid odor of sweat and urine.
So there were limits to what the cockroach robots and the bed could do. That Hamish Townes and her mom had survived so long was a miracle. No doubt Jenna was fighting infections. Carmen understood enough to know that sepsis was as big of a threat as the wound. Jenna needed antibiotics, doctors, a human hospital.
But according to her mom there was another option. The Melded.
“She Who Waits? I want privacy. I need to talk to my sister without anyone listening, including my mother.”
The two waiting lights vanished. The blimp bots remained nearby. If they could hear or record, then no doubt anything Carmen said could be relayed. There was no helping that. But she trusted the translator.
Jenna’s eyes were dull as she looked up at her. “Hey, Car. How are you holding up?”
“Like when I was seven and I crashed your bike all over again, a hundred times over. How are you?”
“I miss my boys.”
“Look…Jen…I have to bring this up. I don’t know how to make you better. The Cordice can’t. We have options. You can go inside the Cordice world. Live there, according to Mom. I can’t say what that’s like, but I got a taste of it. Or Mom has a new idea. The Melded are repairing her. She says they can do that with you if we go to the Framework.”
“But you don’t trust her.”
“Am I that transparent? But Mom is still Mom. If this will make you better, then you have to consider it.”
Jenna took a moment to swallow hard. The effort appeared to cause her pain. There was no water available. Carmen gripped her sister’s hand. Jenna surprised her by squeezing back with equal force.
“I don’t want either of those, Car. Take me home.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“Join us.”
The red light on the hovering bot waited for her reply. She needed to answer the Cordice engineer’s renewed petition for her to return to the simulation for another chat. Yet she hesitated.
Her head pounded. Plugging in and out of the communication node was taking its toll. She worried what all of this was doing to her. Did she have brain tumors in her future? Would she suffer a mental schism like what had befallen her mother? Or would this tsunami of a headache fade with a decent cup of black coffee?
She Who Waits had summoned six more blimp bots. The little machines hadn’t wasted time getting busy in retrieving Jenna and She Who Waits. Carmen needed her sister out of the Cordice home ship. The translator had recommended her shuttle. Once there, the Dragoman could repair the shell which kept her atmosphere and body in place.
It felt like they were getting away with a heist as the bots navigated the two hospital beds out of the medical bay. Would the Cordice notice? Would they try to seal up their ship to prevent their leaving? Apparently She Who Waits hadn’t volunteered anything to the Cordice about what they were doing, and Carmen wasn’t about to share either.
The engineer’s polite voice carried an urgent edge. “Carmen Vincent. Now that the Melded have been subdued, we need to revisit the situation. The harvester. Your mother. We sense you are preparing to leave our ship.”
Carmen continued to walk alongside her sister’s moving bed. “We can talk from here. Can everyone hear me?”
“I assure you they can. Our body has agreed to cooperate with the majority of our council. My colleague the historian has apologized for his role in setting your mother free in order to influence the Melded. If you join us, we can better express ourselves. The historian would speak with you.”
“Not in your simulation. I’ll talk from here. Put him on.”
The engineer hesitated. “Our council has blocked his access to the communication nodes.”
“You’ve agreed but you still don’t trust him?” No answer came. “Look, I know nothing about your people. From what I’ve learned, you saved my mom and Lieutenant Townes. But things still sound a bit shaky inside your world.”
“For a minority to work alongside with a majority when it comes to a decision like we’ve faced, it’s proven disruptive.”
“I understand. We’re like that too, if you can believe it. But why haven’t you released Lieutenant Townes? He wasn’t talking to the Melded too, was he? Or are all humans now under a cloud after what my mom pulled?”
The response took a moment. Too many turns of a phrase?
“Hamish Townes’s mind was damaged. What we could recover is here and you can speak with him. We are doing what we can to restore him.”
“And his body?”
“His body has been preserved as we did with your mother’s.”
“Can the Melded actually fix her? If they can, then they can fix him too.”
“They always demand a price. Always.”
She paused as the bots navigated the beds up a previously unseen larger chute. The doors stayed open and waited for her. Her palms were damp as she hurried to climb past them. Once she made the climb up she waited for the trailing bot with the red light.
A loose wall panel caught her eye and a thought occurred to her. “With your ship in the condition it’s in, how could you leave the Framework before making your own repairs?”
“There were too many demands on the resources we brought in. Eventually we decided we needed to begin our voyage and make repairs along the way. We had done what we could for any individuals who wished to leave with us. Most refused. Some fear entering our simulation despite our every assurance. The Melded, for one, distrust our ability to keep a consciousness intact.”
“I get it. So how long do the Melded live if it takes years to
get from star to star?”
“It varies. Some quite long because of their augmentations. Much depends on their original species makeup. They possess technology which preserves their bodies, but it doesn’t shield them completely from the ravages of time. We can satisfy your curiosities. Join us as a guest. We can better speak. You could learn so much.”
Carmen knew a hard sell when she heard one. “At least you’re finally on the same page about your harvester. I’m still planning on returning it. But you have my mother, or at least part of her. I want her restored. And I’m going to ask the Melded about fixing Lieutenant Townes. That means we need to go to the Framework together before any of us get what we want.”
“I understand. We agree and will begin preparations. As you are aware, you must exercise caution in bringing the harvester too close to the Framework. A mistake could prove catastrophic.”
“I’ll be careful. But I’ll get there before the harvester does.”
“Please explain.”
“I’ll be joining She Who Waits and we will follow you. But I need to borrow your harvester for a little while longer.”
***
Carmen remote piloted the harvester towards Earth. She had it configured into a large ring, with a string of spheres ahead and behind. A suite of rooms had fixed furnishings made of up of the gray ship-stuff, which wouldn’t go anywhere during maneuvers. She had also created a separate washroom with a toilet and sink. A powder-blue bathroom rug and a shower stall with hard water stains and it would be home.
Food supplies had been brought over from She Who Waits’ shuttle. There was plenty to eat if you didn’t mind the flavor of stale breakfast cereal.
Jenna, still in the Cordice medical bed, occupied the largest room. Her sister had been sleeping for the past twenty hours. Carmen stood by in a spindlebot and watched, monitoring everything. One of the floating bots remained at her side.
The journey would take almost two days. Carmen had plotted the course to be as fast as possible while pulling minimal g’s during the acceleration and deceleration.
The red light popped up above the bot. She Who Waits spoke. “You haven’t rested.”
“I’m lying down.”
“But your mind works the harvester and your spindlebot constantly.”
“You’re worried?”
“Yes. Designate Sylvia Vincent requests to speak with you. She also inquires of designate Jenna Vincent.”
“Where is she? Did they make it to the Framework?”
“Not yet but they are close. She remains on board the Melded frigate.”
The Melded had handed Agent Barrett over to a sphere Carmen had sent to collect him. He was now safely secluded in his own private room on the harvester with all the amenities needed for a survivable voyage back to Earth. He hadn’t said much since his return and appeared worn out and sullen. She gave him a set of monitors so at least he’d have a view.
Her mother had tried to speak with the spindlebot Carmen had sent to collect him. But Carmen had been juggling a dozen systems on the harvester and hadn’t been able to respond.
Once the exchange was completed, the Melded hadn’t wasted time waiting on the Cordice before starting their journey back to the Framework. It was supposed to take them less than a day. The Cordice home ship would follow, as would She Who Waits’ shuttle with Carmen on board.
The com node pinged for her attention. It was the Melded vessel.
“Car, please answer,” Sylvia Vincent said. “We can still turn around. You and I could travel together. Talk directly. It would be so much better to see each other face-to-face. You don’t have to be alone. I can assist in bringing Jenna back.”
“Later. And I’m not alone. She Who Waits is here. We’ll meet on the Framework. I have to go, Mom.”
She turned off her com. Focused on Jenna.
Her sister hadn’t eaten, but she had taken some water. Carmen checked the readouts on the bed’s virtual display. Body temperature remained elevated. Breathing shallow. But at least Jenna hadn’t gotten any worse. All that could change in an instant. And if it did change, if her sister’s heart stopped or if she slipped into shock, what then?
Carmen had a contingency plan. If Jenna’s health spiraled further, the time would come to see how fast the harvester could go.
After an hour the com pinged again. But she ignored it.
Her mother would have to wait. Seeing her face-to-face was what Carmen wanted too. With eyes on her maybe she could figure out whether her mom was herself or had had her brain wiped by the Melded. But that would happen soon enough. The shuttle’s engines fired. They tailed the Cordice on a trajectory beyond Mars.
The Framework orbited the sun halfway to the asteroid belt and in the opposite direction from Earth. Carmen’s body was getting further away from home.
She had so many questions about what had happened to her mother, their mission, the aliens, and the attack of the enemy. But her quest to find her mom had almost cost Jenna her life.
What nagged her the most was the notion that her mom was just being herself and that her stealing the harvester, abducting Carmen and Jenna, and getting involved with the Cordice war faction and the Melded had all been intentional.
As if Jenna could be spirited away without her sons. As if Carmen could ignore the fact that their world was facing a fate it had no idea was coming.
She tried to remember the last time her mom had been a source of comfort. The memory resided somewhere in the haze of early childhood, the same place where the yearning to be reunited with her originated.
Carmen attempted to send a message to Earth using both laser and radio. Would any of her broadcasts be received before they arrived? Her mother had figured out how to hack the internet, so why couldn’t she? But it wasn’t happening and she had lost patience trying to understand the communication subroutines.
Still, she persisted. She sent her call out on every band frequency and hoped the shotgun blast of repeating messages would find a listening ear.
“This is Carmen Vincent, daughter of Sylvia Vincent. We’re approaching Earth from Mars. I’ll be landing at Garden Village General Hospital with my sister, who will need medical attention.”
The absurdity of it didn’t escape her. What would anyone listening think? A prank in poor taste. But there had to be others like Agent Barrett, be they Homeland Security, NSA, or, considering her luck, the Peace Patrol, who might hear. She considered what their reception might be. Tanks, black helicopters, and lots of guns pointing at them, no doubt, considering their departure and the fact that Barrett wasn’t the one sending the message.
As her voice looped over and over she tried to decipher the harvester’s sensors so she might hear a reply. She gave up after her mind grew too fuzzy to concentrate.
For the moment, watching her sister sleep calmed her.
Fatigue weighed heavy. She’d need to disconnect and care for her own body inside She Who Waits’ shuttle. Her skin was grimy from days of sweat. The thought of a hot bath made her feel faint. She Who Waits had employed the shuttle’s automation to make sure Carmen was cared for with water and food and a small room with a waste receptacle she hoped was supposed to be a toilet.
She Who Waits was out of sight in the shuttle’s front compartment. She had remained in the Cordice hospital bed the obedient bots had brought over. The shuttle’s systems were busy as they began to pull g’s. A whisper-quiet manufacturing printer was creating a new shell for She Who Waits identical to the one that had been destroyed by the Primary Executive’s bomb.
Once the ship’s acceleration eased, Carmen rose to wash her face. No towel, so she settled for drying herself on her sweatshirt.
“Are you there?” she asked.
The red light blossomed above the small pedestal at the front of the shuttle’s compartment. “What do you require?”
“Nothing. I want to know how you’re doing.”
“I am able to perform my task. We can communicate with the Melded or t
he Cordice. I can advise best communication practices with both.”
“Later. I’m going to reconnect soon and be with Jenna. But you were hurt.”
“I am recovering. The rupture to my shell caused momentary blood flow disruption. My circulatory system stopped momentarily.”
“You had a heart attack?”
“My organs are dispersed throughout my body. None can be classified as a heart. But the analogy is accurate to a degree. Do you have cause for concern over my health? If I am disabled my automated systems will care for your translation needs and will continue to process data for the Framework systems.”
Carmen let out a heavy breath. “Look, She Who Waits, I’m just worried about you. That’s it. It’s not because of your job. You got hurt and maybe almost died because of my mom. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
If the Dragoman got the sense of the apology, Carmen didn’t know. Maybe there’d be time later to talk more. Carmen returned to the crash couch and reconnected to the harvester. Tried to quiet her mind, which was racing about what might happen next.
Getting Jenna home was a detour.
Carmen loved her sister and would die for her. But she understood that there was more at stake than a family reunion with her mom. Sylvia Vincent’s actions were logical, if Carmen could separate out the emotional reflex that made her want to contradict anything her mom might say.
An unknown enemy had struck their planet. The alien races who had survived possessed knowledge that humanity needed. She couldn’t leave this behind. Her mother would soon be the first human to meet the rest of the surviving aliens who had taken refuge in their system. Carmen needed to be there too.
The Framework.
For the moment it was nothing more than a distant blip on her sensors. She had a hard time imagining what it was, except a collection of wrecked spaceships belonging to the handful of survivors who had come together after the Big Wipe. They assisted one another. But they were divided as well.
