Wars

by Alex Deva

  Fine! One man, begged Tiessler. One neutral, normal, present-day soldier, with known loyalties and affiliations, under as little suspicion as possible to double as an alien being. One such person ought to be allowed to accompany the crew and, for heaven’s sake, report something back to him.

  So Zi was temporarily attached to the crew of Starship Doi.

  When would they leave?

  As soon as possible. Right now, suggested Aram. Or as soon as they could transfer whatever supplies were at hand — preferably including a sack of corn and a bag of salt.

  Captain Ileana Toma boarded the waiting Pinion, whose bored commander, having long finished measuring and probing, had resorted to grabbing a notepad and simply drawing the huge starship in pencil. The commander had received instructions to retrieve captain Toma and record everything she would say or do for as long as she was within range of any recording technology. This was only moderately strange to the commander, who had run taxi service before, and knew that after each visit on the starship, poor captain Toma was met by a battalion of debriefing inquisitors. As it happened, captain Toma did make some smalltalk, but offered little of substance. Little did the commander know that she had ferried her first alien being.

  Upon arriving on board Monnet, Toma reported to Tiessler, as per the rules. The colonel signed her tab without looking at her, then turned and floated away wordlessly.

  A crate transport had been tasked with a very quick supply run, which depleted Monnet’s stores of, among others, corn. The little stubby craft flew to Doi, parked above its airlock, and emptied its contents in it as soon as it opened. The two disappointed pilots saw nobody and talked to nobody except their flight controllers.

  As Zi and Aram carried the crates of supplies away from the airlock, Mark sat down next to a wall in One and watched Doina. He still had a vague, absurd feeling of guilt; every time he left the girl alone, someone would get to her. The first time it was that idiot, Gaines; the second time, none other by an alien Builder. Fortunately, she was safe, but he still felt guilty.

  “You can’t be in two places at the same time,“ said the girl, reading his thoughts.

  He grimaced slightly. “That’s a poor excuse,“ he said.

  She laughed. “I’m fine, Mark. Thank you.“

  “Thank you,“ he said. “I might’ve been dead in a metal coffin right now.“

  “Don’t even talk like that,“ she said.

  “Did Toma… the Builder tell you how to fly on FTL?“ he changed the subject.

  “Yes. It’s no different than normal flight, in terms of controls. It’s only faster and with little effects on the flow of time.“

  “Dangerous?“

  The girl smiled and shrugged. “Compared to what?“ she asked, half-serious.

  “Normal operations,“ he did not raise to the bait.

  “I don’t think anyone knows, really. What can happen? When we’re inside Doi, we’re inside one of the safest places in the Universe. Can’t ask for more than that,“ she said.

  I certainly can, he thought.

  “So you now know where this Saudade Conglomerate is?“

  “Not in the same way I know where my house is within my village. But I know how to ask Doi to take us there.“

  “But you can’t show it on a map?“

  “Oh. Sure,“ said the girl, and filled the room with the star field. Mark blinked rapidly and tensed his abdomen, fighting his nausea. “There,“ she pointed to a cluster of stars, somewhere up and to his right. Naturally, she raised herself in the air, with her hand still stretched, and gently floated towards the slowly moving pricks of light. Then, from up there, she pointed back towards the centre of the room: “And we’re right there.“

  Mark swallowed.

  “How far is it?“ he asked, but before the girl could answer, the floor opened. Zi floated up, right in the middle of the star field, gaping and reaching out after some shiny sun or other. He mumbled something in Albanian, and by the time Doina faded away the star chart, Aram popped in as well.

  The floor iris shut, and the two men landed on it, still standing. Zi reached out with his tab to Mark.

  “Inventory complete,“ he said. “Everything’s stowed.“

  Mark took the tab and started going through the list.

  “You alright?“ Aram asked Doina.

  “Yes. Can’t wait to leave! You?“ she grinned.

  “Yeah, kinda,“ said the Dacian. “Never been on another planet. You, Zi?“

  “I’ve been to the Moon,“ said the other soldier affably, “but never to Mars. And no human has ever been elsewhere, as far as we know. Except for a couple of asteroids.“

  “What do you think it’s gonna be like?“

  “What, the Saudade home planet?“

  “If it’s even a planet.“

  The Albanian thought a little. “Huge green fields,“ he said. “Windmills and rivers. A couple of mountains, maybe a few beer breweries.“

  “Malto,“ said Mark, suddenly.

  “Or Stela,“ agreed Zi. “How do you…“

  “Kosovo,“ said Mark. “Met an Albanian or two.“

  “And killed them?“ Zi’s voice was neutral.

  “No, it wasn’t that kind of job. But I did do some mingling and beer-tasting. All in the line of duty, of course.“

  “Of course.“

  “Thank you for the inventory. I’m glad to have you on board, lieutenant.“ He handed Zi back the tab.

  “Awesome to be on board,“ said the Albanian in his usual, strange American accent.

  “But…“

  “I know. This one job, then I’m out.“

  “No offence.“

  “None taken.“

  “And I am grateful because you watched Mark’s back in that virtual complex,“ said Doina.

  “My pleasure. As long as everyone’s clear that I’m not here only to spy on you.“

  Mark grinned. “Yeah, good to know that I can always count on you to knock me out.“

  Zi smiled sheepishly. “Had to be done,“ he said.

  Aram clapped his hands, and rubbed them together. “Everyone ready?“

  They all looked at each other. “Do we need to do anything?“ asked Zi. “Sit down, put our heads on our knees? Buckle up at least?“

  Mark looked at Doina. “Buckle up?“ asked the girl. Then, after a moment’s digging: “Oh… safety belts. Never thought of that. Would anyone like one?“ With a small, simple gesture, she made a five-point, dark red safety harness emerge from the circular wall.

  “Would it make any difference?“ asked Aram.

  “Not really,“ she said, and the thing collapsed into a wet pool, which then disappeared. Zi watched in utter fascination. “In fact, I don’t think we’ll feel anything at all,“ she finished.

  “Good,“ said Mark. “Good.“

  “So, everyone ready?“ repeated Aram.

  They all nodded. Doina smiled, shut her eyes and focused.

  XXXVI.

  “I can’t see,“ said Zi.

  “Me neither,“ answered Aram.

  “Doina?“ asked Mark.

  No answer.

  “Doina, can you hear me? Are you alright?“

  Still no answer.

  “Zi, stay where you are. Aram, step towards Doina, I’m coming, too.“

  “Doi, are you here?“ asked the Dacian, coming closer.

  A coldness gripped Mark’s throat as he reached the position where he mentally judged he’d last seen Doina, and felt nothing in front of him. Rather than stepping, he gingerly probed forward with his foot, and the coldness turned into sickness as his fear turned real: he felt something on the floor.

  He knelt and found the girl’s head. He probed for wetness around it, and Aram’s foot met his knee.

  “I’m here,“ he said. “Doina’s lying on the floor.“

  The Dacian immediately knelt down next to Mark, reaching out with his hands.

  “Is she alright?“ asked Zi, worried, from a dista
nce. “What happened?“

  “No idea,“ said Mark, who thankfully found no blood around the girl’s head. He probed for her neck and quickly searched for the carotid. Gently pressing two fingers on it, he closed his eyes — despite the darkness — and waited.

  A second passed, then two; when the third was almost gone, he felt a faint push, so faint that he wasn’t sure whether it wasn’t his own pulse he was feeling. He held his breath, and counted.

  Four more seconds passed until he felt a heartbeat. Then, four more. Then, only three.

  “She’s alive,“ he said. “ADM?“

  No reply. He tried again. “ADM? Can you hear me?“

  There was only silence. “I’ll find the wall,“ offered Aram, and shuffled away.

  “I need light,“ said Mark.

  “I have light,“ said Zi. “But you said to stay still.“

  “Yeah, what do you have?“

  “Tab’s screen light can get pretty bright on max. I have some proper lights on my suit, but that’s in another room. And there’s lighting kit in the supplies we just brought.“

  “Light up the tab.“

  Shadows suddenly appeared. Mark forced his eyes to stay opened, and looked down. Doina’s body was crumpled on the floor in front of him; he could not believe that he had not even heard her falling. Had they been unconscious while she fell? If yes, for how long? What happened? What went wrong?

  There would be time to get answers later, he decided. For now, focus on the next step.

  Prioritise, fix the worst problem, move to the next. And try not to think about failing again.

  “Zi, come closer,“ he said, without turning. The shades became shorter and darker. The girl's mouth was slightly open and he made sure her airways weren’t obstructed in any way.

  “Wall’s not responding,“ announced Aram. Zi turned the tab slightly towards his voice. The Dacian had his hand on the wall; he tried touching it, pushing it, hitting it, prodding it, but no symbols appeared on it. “I think the ship’s dead.“

  “What’s her pulse?“ asked Zi.

  Mark counted again. The beats had begun coming closer apart, but still not even one per second. “Fifty,“ he answered.

  “Trauma?“

  “Nothing visible on the outside.“

  “Respiration?“

  Mark leaned forward and listened to the girl’s mouth and nose. As a tiny air draft met his ear, he saw her chest rise and fall, slowly but regularly.

  “On her own, shallow but steady.“

  “Turn her?“

  “Yeah, I think we can.“

  Careful not to move Doina too suddenly, Mark gently turned her on a side. He felt for bumps at the back of her head, felt for the shape of her upper spine.

  “Anything?“

  “No,“ he said. “I’m gonna lift her and sit her up next to the wall. Light my way.“

  Holding the girl’s head with one hand, he grabbed her under the knees with the other and got up in one smooth move. He immediately felt nauseous again. Zi’s steadying hand rested behind his shoulder.

  “You good to move?“ he asked.

  Carrying the soft, limp girl, Mark stepped to the wall where Aram was. He kneeled and laid her down gently with her back resting against the wall. First, he tried touching the wall; nothing. Then, he lifted Doina’s soft, little hand and placed it on the flat surface; still nothing.

  “Should I try?“ offered Zi. Aram nodded, and the soldier touched the wall, gently, then pushed a few times as if trying to open an unseen door. But still, nothing happened. He sat down and brought the tab’s light in front of Doina’s face, as Mark was opening her left eye.

  The pupil was dilated, and it did not react to the light. He tried the right eye; same result.

  “She needs a doctor,“ he said, matter-of-factly.

  “Yes, she does,“ answered Mark.

  “Look,“ said Aram, and pointed to the ceiling. The door-iris was open. They all instinctively looked at the floor; that one was closed, or they would’ve fallen through it already.

  “Must be an automatic system, like we had with cars — all the locks pop open on a crash,“ said Mark.

  “I have an idea,“ said Aram.

  “What?“

  “I can go see if I can open the airlock. If we haven’t left, then we can signal for help.“

  “They’ll have all their eyes on us,“ confirmed Zi. “Even if you just lift a finger, they’ll see you and they’ll come.“

  “How are you going to open the airlock?“ asked Mark.

  “Space suit,“ said Aram. “The one I came in.“

  “I could also go and bring some lights from the storage room,“ said Zi, “and a first-aid kit.“

  Why don’t we have a first-aid kit in every room? wondered Mark, and immediately answered: Because I didn’t think about it.

  “Go,“ he said to the others. “Go to the storage first, share the tab’s light. Aram, suit up, Zi get the gear, this way you can both light your own ways.“

  “Come on,“ said Aram to Zi, and walking to the middle of the room, he bent his knees and jumped up. Zi followed without asking any questions.

  The room was again pitch black. Mark put his arm around Doina’s shoulders and felt for a new pulse. It had not become faster, but he thought it was fairly steady.

  What could have happened? The ship appeared to have short-circuited, and likewise Doina’s nervous system. Of course, the two were tightly linked together, so on some level it actually made sense. But why? It had to be linked to the ship’s never-before-tried FTL system, that impossible technology that was alien even to the aliens. Something had gone terribly wrong… that Builder must have made a mistake. One wrong digit perhaps, one badly placed comma — if arithmetics were even involved in such things! Maybe a mistake made centuries ago, during the Industrial Revolution or the Napoleonic Wars… and now Doina had to pay for it.

  Mark’s special box, the one where he locked all the thoughts about Sara and her mother, about his life’s greatest failure, suddenly came into the centre stage of his mind, right under the limelight. He knew that opening it would break him down, and he fought desperately to steer his thoughts away.

  Think strategy. Think next step.

  Tiessler’s people were bound to notice that they weren’t going anywhere. They would…

  Of course. Tiessler. Why hadn’t the thought occurred sooner? He blamed himself. As noises and light came from the hole in the ceiling, he yelled in its direction:

  “Use the tab, Zi. Call Tiessler.“

  The big man appeared at the edge of the opening, carrying a large bag in each hand. He had a flashlight in his mouth, and he muttered something unintelligible, then jumped down. He landed softly, got out of the low-gravity area, put the suitcases down and got the flashlight out of his mouth.

  “No signal,“ he said. “I checked, first thing. But that’s normal, I think. Doi only likes to let radio through when she feels like it.“

  While he was talking, he opened one of the suitcases, and took out three small tripods, which extended telescopically. Each stand had a lamp on top, with an adjustable spread that could range between a spot, a sliver or an omnidirectional source. After setting it to about a hundred and twenty degrees, he turned it on. Part of the room filled with white light; Zi quickly placed the other two tripods at the other ends of an equilateral triangle, and turned them all on.

  “Those are good for sixty hours,“ he said, returning to Mark and kneeling down to Doina. “How is she?“

  “Same,“ said Mark. “So the tab doesn’t connect?“

  “No.“

  “Which could mean that the starship is alive enough to block it.“

  “It’s certainly alive enough to maintain gravity conditions and keep the doors open for us. Must be a separate system.“

  “Or it could mean that we’re no longer near Earth, and she doesn’t care about your radio because it won’t work anyway.“

  “Aram will find out
when he opens the airlock.“

  “Guys,“ came Aram’s voice from the walls. Zi looked around, startled.

  “Where are you?“ asked Mark. “How did you get the intercom working?“

  “I’m in Effo,“ said Aram. “Couldn’t get the outer iris to open. But the one in the floor was open. Effo seems to work just fine.“

  “Can you see out?“

  “Clear as anything,“ came the answer. “I can see all around us. There’s no Earth, Mark. And no cruisers. There’s a big planet about a hundred thousand klicks away.“

  Mark looked at Zi. “It worked,“ he said.

  “Okay,“ said the soldier. “Are we sure it’s the right planet?“

  “I don’t know,“ said Aram. I mean, Effo knows what the planet is, but it doesn’t know what I mean by Saudade Conglomerate.“

  “That’s because that was just a name fitted for us by the Complex,“ said Mark. “The Builders most likely call it by some other name. Doina would know exactly what.“

  “Can’t Effo talk to the starship?“asked Zi.

  “Normally yes, but it doesn’t work now.“

  “Aram,“ said Mark.

  “What?“

  “Is Effo a doctor, too?“

  Aram took his time formulating the question to his trusted little ship; when the answer came negative, he rephrased it a few times until he was sure.

  “Sorry,“ he said. “Effo doesn’t know the first thing about fixing people.“

  “The starship would know how to take care of her,“ muttered the Brit. “But the starship hurt her in the first place. Probably didn’t see it coming, whatever it was that happened.“

  “It’s gonna be tough when we fly back to Earth,“ commented Zi, and Mark was thankful for the implication that Doina would recover, even if the other implication was that they would have to put her through it again.

  “We won’t be going anywhere until we figure out what happened and how we can prevent it,“ he said. “There has to be a way.“

  “First time experiments rarely go according to plan,“ agreed the other. “Particularly first time experiments that are physically impossible.“

  “I could take Effo and get some help,“ said Aram, but even as he said it, he knew it wasn’t a good idea.