The Impossible Future: Complete set

by Frank Kennedy

  They were alone. Life beyond the horizon was a mystery. They were hundreds, maybe thousands of miles from civilization.

  He thought back to Ericsson Station. His fellow spec-ops wiped out by an enemy in black and bronze. Percy Muldoon trying to hold them off until his final breath. Soldiers of the Guard willing to kill everyone on the Admiralty’s orders.

  All gone, but to what end?

  “Why us?” He muttered. “This ain’t luck. It can’t be random.”

  He remembered Maya’s words when she gave him new hope of finding Sam. “Some paths are unshakeable,” she said. “The smallest of choices form a greater math than we can understand. Call it the algorithm of life. Whatever else happens, this must be the future.”

  “If it must be,” he said, “then we’re meant to find the way.”

  These words were treading dangerously close to the message he was taught in church from an early age: ‘God has a plan for you.’ Michael never saw such evidence growing up, and lately he doubted God existed – in this universe or any other. But if there is a path …

  A nearby splash broke Michael from his reverie.

  He expected to see Maya or Aldo, but the uniformed soldier wore the same colors and body armor as Michael. His face was distorted by rage and grief, bent on revenge.

  Lt. Kal Carver leveled his blast rifle and fired a volley of flash pegs. Michael reached for his weapon but was too slow. Just like the first time, his armor took the initial impact.

  He blinked again, and Carver disappeared.

  “What?”

  A blast of searing pain radiated above his left eye. Michael cursed and tried to shake it off. He caught Maya and Aldo staring, having noticed his distress. A couple of deep breaths later, he felt fine and offered a thumbs-up.

  “Clear your mind, Cooper. Focus on what’s ahead.”

  He threw open a holocube and sorted through the data package looking for clues to Salvation’s footprint. He found a curious set of numbers emanating from a location 7.4 kilometers east-southeast. The AI clarified these as potential airborne radiation signatures, but they were microscopic and scattered indiscriminately. He ordered the AI to investigate further. Look for them on land. Dig as far down beneath the surface as possible.

  Radiation? From what?

  Michael saw human movement beyond his cube and swiped it away.

  Kal Carver took aim from the far side of the river, again unloading his blast rifle. This time, Michael responded before the flash pegs reached him. Strangely, he had more time. The projectiles, twinkling as they advanced, slowed as they neared Michael’s side of the river.

  So did the river. Then it dissolved.

  The flash pegs advanced, but now he faced them with nowhere to retreat: Ericsson Station, the corridor outside the Anchor lab. Carver preferred revenge over fighting the invaders. …

  The first pegs twinkle. He isolates each, sees their paths, as if able to slow time. Maybe if he reaches out, he might swat them away, one by one, and kill Carver in the process.

  No such luck. They hit him like the first time. Chest. Chest high. Beneath the ribs. Center abdomen. Then higher, as Carver adjusts his aim. The shoulder. A millimeter above the neck brace. A burn on the side of his neck.

  There. That one. He stares at the last incoming peg eye-level. He’s too late. Umph.

  The peg explodes. He lurches. His skull shatters. A lightshow and a white-hot blade tear into his brain. Thoughts, dreams, emotions dissipate like dandelion petals in the breeze.

  A hole opens in the back of his head, and blood gushes. …

  “Fuck me!”

  Michael stood in the Bengalese River, his blast rifle firing at an invisible target. What the hell was that?

  Maya ran to his side. “Michael! Michael, what happened? What are you shooting at?”

  He jerked away at her touch. For an instant, he didn’t know Maya or this world. Echoes from the base fought each other for his attention, rising out of the cold, empty dark.

  Only when Aldo arrived did Michael reset.

  “Come on, 3-L-T,” Aldo said. “What did you see?”

  “It don’t make sense. It felt like a waking dream, and then it was something more. Carver, he shot me in the head.” Aldo handed him a flask of water. “Thanks. It was crazy. Carver was here. Twice. But I know it wasn’t him. Yet it was.” He took a long swig. The water was fresh and crisp. Michael made his way back to the rock where he sat moments earlier.

  “Look, I’m sorry for scaring the shit out of you two. It must be the DR29. They told me not to become too immersed for too long.”

  “Yes,” Aldo said. “DR29’s have always played games with the more hypersensitive brain functions. Memories, in particular, tend to stretch and bend. My fault, Cooper. I should have warned you to take more frequent breaks. Eh. DR29s. Never cared for them.”

  Maya stood over him, massaging his shoulders.

  “Calm yourself,” she said. “This will pass. I think you’re still processing your grief about what happened in the mountain. We’ve only been here an hour. It’s still fresh for all of us.”

  “It wasn’t like my memory bent or twisted. It felt sharper, like I was picking up the pieces I missed the first time. The flash pegs hit just like I remembered, but not the one here.” He rubbed his forehead. “It wasn’t a ricochet, like you said. It went through. It blew my brains out. But I know it didn’t because I sure as hell wouldn’t be sitting here.” He looked around. Eden? Huh. “Or maybe I would. Any chance we all died on Tamarind? If there’s a heaven, this ain’t the worst option.”

  When they didn’t respond, Michael looked up. Aldo and Maya were locked in a biting stare, which gave Michael a chill.

  “We’re very much alive,” Aldo said. “What is heaven?”

  “Never mind. I don’t think Chancellors are allowed. There’s not enough leverage in the universe.”

  Maya laughed. “Good. Your sense of humor is returning. I think he’s snapping back, Aldo. Agree?”

  “No, Maya. I don’t. We have to deal with this now. You wanted to put it off, but he’s remembering.”

  Michael twisted around. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “We have a long road ahead of us, Aldo. Michael, it’s nothing. Aldo and I will sort it out later, after we put some time between ourselves and the station.”

  “I was not wrong,” Aldo insisted and walked away.

  “What the hell’s going on between you two?”

  “I’m old,” Aldo said without turning around. “I’m a coward. I’m easily duped. But I’m not worthless. My eyes work fine. I know what I saw. Now, Maya. Tell him.”

  Michael jumped off the rock. “The fuck is wrong with you?” He pivoted to Maya. “What’s he going on about?”

  She held her hands to her hips and for an instant, glared at Aldo as if he betrayed her. But she dropped the animus and softened her features. Maya the friend, counselor, mentor.

  “Aldo’s right. I wanted to wait on this matter. What you know too soon might affect choices later. Michael, we’re so close to the end.”

  “End of what? Be straight with me.”

  “Fine.” She smiled like a sister wanting to comfort her little brother. “You and I have done some horrible things. We’ve killed many people. Do you still keep count?”

  An unexpected question. “I stopped a while back.”

  “Most of those you’ve killed, you shot them in the head. Yes?”

  “It’s efficient. Flash pegs do the job with a single shot.”

  “Because they’re brutal. They penetrate the strongest bone and disintegrate the tissue in and around their path. Nothing shy of the strongest military-grade helmet can disperse them.”

  He saw the truth in her eyes, but it was too insane to conceive.

  “Maya, spit it out already. Please.”

  “Remember the way Aldo reacted in the lab when he saw you?”

  “Yeah, like he didn’t think …”

  Fuck. No way. Don’t you say it
.

  “When Aldo opened the lab door, you were lying against it. You had a hole in your head as wide as my thumb, and your blood was pooling beneath you. I asked him to help me drag you into the lab. I said you would recover. He thought I was out of my mind. He said our only hope was to jump to Hiebimini and take our chances. He refused to help. Still, I got you inside before the people from Euphrates arrived. I proved Aldo wrong. You were out for less than ten minutes.”

  A chill raced through his blood. This story was sheer madness.

  “Maya.” He caught his breath. His heart raced. “What happened to me in that mountain?”

  “Kal Carver killed you. I saw the smile on his face as he ran away.”

  “No. No, I dreamed it. Why are you …?”

  He pivoted to Aldo, who stood silent, listening to Maya’s story.

  “This can’t be. Shit. I was right. This is heaven. We were killed.”

  “It’s not heaven,” Aldo said. “It’s Messalina. Or what’s left of it. And as for you, Cooper, I’m trying not to jump to assumptions.”

  “Maya?”

  She grabbed him as he wobbled.

  “Michael, remember the jokes you’ve told about escaping death? How people try to kill you, but you always walk away? You’ve called yourself a human whack-a-mole. Yes?”

  “Sure. I’ve had all these close calls but …”

  “Michael, hear me. Kal Carver killed you, and he wasn’t the first. You have died before – in this universe and the other.” She placed a hand over his heart. “It’s all there, Michael. At some level, deeper than you’ve dared to go, you know this is true.”

  “No. It’s luck, Maya. Dumbass luck. It’s …”

  “Sweetie, people can’t kill you because you will not stay dead.”

  He read Maya. He found no deception in her eyes, no manipulation in her heart.

  “You’re saying I’m what? Immortal? That’s impossible.”

  “In your case, yes. You weren’t genetically altered by the Bouchets, like those children in Salvation. You cannot be killed, Michael, because you shouldn’t exist at all. Not in this universe. Yet you do, and that paradox has changed everything that is and will be. You are not just immortal. You are the impossible future.”

  45

  I MMORTALITY. ETERNAL LIFE. Michael used to think these concepts were cool, but they were reserved only for God and kickass sci-fi movies. No. I am a survivor. I make my luck. Nobody just becomes immortal. The idea defied logic, not to mention the key principle of life: All things die. All things. Yet here he stood, his memory crystallizing. There was no ricochet. The flash peg smashed into his skull. A kill shot, like so many he delivered as an assassin for the Solomon resistance and as a soldier holding off Mongol fanatics.

  “I should be dead. I was dead. I don’t know what to say.”

  Maya smiled, acknowledging the breakthrough. Aldo raised his hand, like an ambitious student interrupting the instructor.

  “If I might enter the fray,” he said, “I think you’re overlooking a very important question, Michael.”

  Michael’s mind was numb, trapped inside a fogbank. “What?”

  “How does Maya know these things? The instant I stood over your body, I realized were you dead. But Maya insisted you were going to be all right. ‘It’s not what you think,’ she said. ‘He’s going with us,’ she said. And now she talks of a paradox and an impossible future. I think the first question we need to ask: Who are you?”

  Michael stepped back. Every instinct agreed with Aldo.

  “He’s right. I mean, you just told me I’m immortal, and it doesn’t faze you in the least. You already knew. How, Maya? Who are you? Is that even the right damn question? What are you?”

  She didn’t change expression, giving no outward hint of fear or anger at being discovered. Her smile suggested relief.

  “Michael, Aldo, my name is Maya Fontaine. I was born in Marseilles to Solomon parents. Eight years ago, I joined the equity movement. Last year, I met you, Michael. This year, I met you, Aldo. I have done my best to support you both. I’ve never lied to you. This is who I am.”

  “Except for the bits you ain’t telling us,” Michael said. “How did you know what I was, when I didn’t have a fucking clue?”

  “That’s where my story becomes more complicated.”

  Aldo moved closer, laser pistol in hand.

  “I’ve spent most of my life reporting to people who played games with me. I’m done. Understand? Out with the truth.”

  She swiped a hand through her hair and gazed away, as if wondering where to begin.

  “I can’t tell you precisely when it happened because I wasn’t aware of the presence for some time. Not consciously. My best guess would be in the first months after you crossed the fold, Michael.”

  “When what happened?”

  “For a time, I was inhabited by another intelligence. A sentient being. Benevolent. Inquisitive. Generous. A being who showed me more about life and the universe than I ever imagined.”

  “One of them?” Aldo asked.

  “Yes. A Jewel of Eternity. More specifically, a piece of one. They don’t define themselves in corporeal terms like we do. Chancellor scientists captured many of them drifting in space about fifty years ago. They captured five, but there are thousands. Some segments were later fused with human DNA to create the hybrids. The staggering power of the Jewels turned those hybrids into Berserkers.

  “The rest of the Jewels remained hidden in Chancellor off-book facilities or moved about the universe on their own. You’ve seen them, Aldo. Here. Thirty-eight years ago. You watched from your Ark Carrier. The fire that wrapped around this planet? Five Jewels reuniting at a moment they long saw coming. They rendered the brontinium inert, seeded the planet, and waited for the evacuation to end. Then they went to work.”

  “They did all this?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it was time. It was always going to be time.”

  “And what sort of cudfrucking logic is that?”

  “Aldo, the Jewels are very old. A million years, more or less. They know secrets about the universe we will never discover. They learned how to predict the future. And along the way, they played their part in pushing us to that future.”

  Michael’s memories sharpened. A pattern emerged.

  “The algorithm of life,” he said. “You told me about it on the viewing platform. How you believed the smallest choices formed a ‘greater math than we can understand.’”

  “Yes. The Jewels mastered causality and its infinite paths. They saw the rise of humanity, the formation of the Collectorate, the Fall of the Chancellory, and the end of their own journey.”

  “Which is where?”

  “Here, Michael. Hiebimini. Where all paths will intersect.”

  Michael realized Aldo was also overwhelmed and more than a little suspicious, too.

  “So, let me get this straight. You have been manipulating us. You knew this was coming, and you made sure we got here alive.”

  “No. Michael, I knew nothing with certainty. The Jewel left me months before I ever met you. It never told me what to do, never suggested my path would bring me to Hiebimini. Any number of decisions would have shifted our fates. I only decided to join you on Praxis when I felt pulled toward space.” She turned to Aldo. “I asked to become your aide when I learned of your history with Hiebimini. I saw our paths narrow. The Jewels are right. There is an algorithm, more complex than any human math, and a strong predictor of the future. But not a guarantee.”

  Michael had to ask. “Are you immortal, too?”

  She didn’t hesitate. “No. The best I can hope for is to grow old and die. I can’t see beyond the horizon any better than you.”

  Aldo struck a cynical tone. “When I recognized those stones as being from Messalina, you acted skeptical. You questioned my judgment about the changing river current. You said, ‘I’m sure we’ll find the answers.’ Hah! You already knew t
hem.”

  “No, Aldo. I knew we landed on the right planet. Beyond that, not a clue. Your discovery made me think we were on the right track. I do know this much: We are where we were always supposed to be. The three of us together.”

  Michael wanted to believe her. Maya always had a way to set his mind at ease amid his most dire anxiety, to adjust his perspective toward the bigger picture. As best he could remember, Maya was right on a very important point: She never once told him what to do. Always advised, proposed possibilities, asked rhetorical questions. She rarely judged and never condescended. She was a friend. And yet …

  “A few minutes ago, you said I was immortal, but I was also impossible. What did you mean?”

  “Michael, when I conversed with the Jewel, it was never in words. Only emotions, visions, sounds. The Jewel never showed me the future because it couldn’t. However, it did show me the past. Months later, after I realized you were the man in those visions, I saw the paradox.

  “That week while we hid in the Appalachians, you told me the story of your final day on first Earth. How you, Sammie, and Jamie ran for your lives. Remember? You told me how Jamie sacrificed himself rather than become the monster he was designed to be. You and Sammie tried to stop him, but you were too late. Yes? A pair of machines called Shock Units were waiting. They turned their weapons toward you and fired, but in the same instant, those machines were obliterated, and a nuclear explosion spread across the land as far as you could see. And then, behold, you discover Jamie is alive, and he was responsible for the destruction.”

  “When you put it like that, it’s still hard to believe,” Michael said, as Aldo’s jaw dropped. “He took eight bullets. They tore him apart, but there he was. Right as rain.”

  “Michael, he did not save you. The Shock Units incinerated you and Sammie.”

  “Wait, what? That’s nuts.”

  “Michael, I saw it. The Jewel showed me. The machines killed the woman named Agatha Bidwell seconds before you arrived then they turned their weapons on you. The agony was horrifying but brief. Your screams stayed in my nightmares for months.”