by Kelly Gay
The look Rion sends my way is priceless, her smile nearly contagious as we trail after Keeper. I can practically hear her heart singing and can imagine her awe and reverence. She loves ships, space travel, design… and this vessel is a dream incarnate, a vivid, technological work of art.
A light bridge has already been established. As we cross, Eden’s hull intuitively creates a portal for our entry. I see other bridges below us, where Birth and Clearance and dozens of other monitors load thousands of storage cylinders and environmental compartments into the collection hold.
Inside, the ship is a marvel of translucent, intuitive walls made of hard light and transmutable alloy, allowing us to see through sections and compartments. These can be shifted and changed to one’s liking, closed off to provide privacy, or left open to create space.
“This way.” We rise to the bridge on the central-shaft elevator.
Once we arrive, the bridge forms itself into being; from the bulkhead a streamlined control station appears as Keeper approaches. He is greeted by the voice of the ship’s ancilla.
Rion casually inspects the bridge. “What was she built for?” I can see, as amazed as she is, she wonders why we are here.
“To deliver an extraordinary payload at the Librarian’s behest. Originally, it was my duty to oversee Builder functions on Bastion, and when the time came, to launch Eden and carry out the Lifeshaper’s wishes.”
“What’s the payload?” she asks.
Initially Keeper does not answer, though he eventually says, “It is not for me to tell.”
“So why bring us here?”
“I am in need of your key to begin the departure sequence. The risk is too great to wait. Eden must leave Bastion before we move the shield world into slipspace; her departure is long overdue and I must complete my mission.”
Rion turns to me with a questioning look. I nod my agreement, and she produces the Librarian’s key from her pocket. Keeper motions for her to step to the bridge console and joins her there as two key ports extend. He produces a hard-light key. They insert them together, and Eden is clear to begin launch procedures.
During this process, and without the slightest warning, I hear Keeper’s voice in my mind. “I do not trust the human.”
“She was led here as well as I, pulled through the portal, passing the Precept’s test.”
“As a last resort,” the Builder replies. “The key you bear was meant to be brought here by the Librarian herself. But, I see she has found a way, as she always does, to plan for alternate outcomes, pairing the human’s necessary biology with your Forerunner knowledge and abilities.”
“You think she planned for this?”
“I think it was one of many possibilities.”
He speaks of her as though she is not gone, only elsewhere, and I know this is because he has not become accustomed to this new reality, one in which she no longer exists.
“You said you had need of me,” I remind him.
“Though you are but one, necessity now demands it.”
“I am listening.”
“Bastion needs an ancilla,” he says without preamble.
Surely he does not mean…
“Bastion was always meant to be administered by three complete and unique ancillas—essences, rich minds like yours with memories and experience, emotion and morality, the ability to adapt, learn, and rely on intuition and foresight. The caretaking monitors that greeted you are but indirect copies, purposefully compartmentalized and designed with limited control to avoid corruption as we saw with the contender-class AI, Mendicant Bias.”
How unfortunate the complete essences of Birth, Dawn, and Clearance never made it out of the Domain.
“The current monitors have done an exemplary job, it appears,” I note.
“And if the Guardians find this place? There are things here… This was her laboratory, the Lifeshaper, away from the Council, away from rules and regulations. Her most dangerous research and experiments… If our monitors were to become compromised, or swayed…”
My surprise is profound, for I now see where his thoughts lie. “And you believe I am un-sway-able?”
Humor threads through his tone. “I believe there is good reason for you not to be.”
Odd. I cannot determine his meaning.
“The Librarian’s key,” he continues, “allows unrestricted access and control over Bastion and its caretakers.”
Bastion was always a mirage, a word without context, a suspicion, a belief. Over the years, I filled the holes of its ambiguity with hope, with the hypothesis it was the sanctuary where the remaining Forerunners—those left to reseed the galaxy after the firing of the Halo Array—had gone.
Perhaps I was mistaken. Our arrival here initially filled me with disappointment. We were not greeted by the living, but by ghosts.
Everywhere I go, always ghosts…
And yet… He means to give me control of Bastion.
Eden’s reaction drive comes online, a beautiful buildup of crystal-smooth vacuum energy and power. Rion turns; only a moment has passed for her during my conversation with Keeper.
“Where will you go?” I ask him.
“Beyond this galaxy.”
“Will you come back?”
“I have nothing and no one left to return to. This is my ship, built by my hand. We go together as we were meant to. The gondola will take you back to the tower. I have already sent my imprimatur to the key port in the reception hall.”
“You are assuming I will stay.”
A smirk appears on his face. There is that arrogance again. “I know more about you than you think, Monitor Chakas. Welcome home.”
Keeper retrieves the Librarian’s key from the port and hands it to Rion with gratitude. She takes it and joins me, completely unaware of our conversation.
Before we depart I require one more pressing question answered. If he needs me—if the Librarian needs me—I must know. “What is Eden’s purpose?”
He stares at me for quite some time, then replies, “Atonement.”
CHAPTER 42
The ride from the Nursery to the tower was quiet. Spark stared out at the landscape the entire time, and Rion could see he wasn’t taking in the world below, but was a million kilometers away, lost in thought.
As weird as it was, her gut was telling her something had shifted.
Ace was still parked where they’d left her, just a tiny black fly on the back of an aircraft carrier. But it was her fly, and neither of them was part of this world—as incredible as it was. They simply didn’t belong here.
The transport vessel delivered them to the northwest side of the sky bridge where they could watch Eden begin her maiden voyage.
Keeper was leaving Bastion, apparently.
In a replica of the Audacity.
Whatever was in that ship was intrinsically tied to the Librarian and Path Kethona—how could it not be? Her dreams and the key had been pointing in that direction all along.
A short time later, Eden appeared, rising over the northwestern horizon, her pearly hull a bright flare against the blue sky. High in the atmosphere above her a dark smudge appeared and grew in size, the darkness of the exterior substructure and icy outer layer casting a murky shadow as it opened to allow her passage. Her speed increased and up she went until all that remained was a tiny point of light heading into that dark unknown. She flared briefly and then was gone, leaving a violet streak of processed vacuum energy in her wake.
Without a word, Spark turned and headed toward the tower.
“Hey.” She caught up to him. “I think you’re heading in the wrong direction. Ship’s that way.” She pointed to Ace.
“We’re not finished yet.”
“Well, we need to be. Bastion’s going to parts unknown and we need to hightail it out of here before that happens.”
He didn’t respond.
“Spark.”
“I will need the key.” He held out his hand.
“Okay…” She
fished for it, pulled it from her pocket, and handed it over.
He continued to the tower. Something had gone south; she could feel it in her bones.
In the reception hall, he went immediately to the terminal as she followed, trying to make sense of his sudden change in demeanor.
“And here I thought we only needed a couple gravity plates to carry the key’s treasure. Instead we’re leaving empty-handed,” she said with a laugh, joining him at the terminal, trying to engage him, to get him to open up.
He turned that enigmatic head and gazed at her. Time stretched, and Rion’s heart started to sink. “I am not leaving empty-handed.” He inserted the key.
A pleasant female voice rang through the reception hall with brutal clarity. “Welcome, 04-343 Guilty Spark. Shield world 0983, designation, Bastion, is now under your command.”
Rion’s heart gave a hollow bang.
Silence hung in the air between them.
Stunned, she managed to find her voice. “You’re staying.”
How could he not? Bastion was his. And maybe she shouldn’t have been so surprised. She’d always known he was destined for something momentous.
He bent down, putting one hand on her shoulder, until his face was almost level with hers. “I hear the blood pumping through your veins, Rion Forge. I see the fear in your eyes and the worry in your heart.”
“For good reason. Thanks for pointing it out.”
“I point it out because I too am similarly conflicted.”
His honesty brought a halfhearted smile to her face.
She’d grown extremely fond of him in the time they’d shared together. “Please don’t do this.” It was a weak and selfish thing to say, and she instantly regretted it. “I’m sorry. I—”
“Don’t apologize. It is nice to be wanted.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“I am. I choose to be Bastion’s caretaker. I don’t belong in the past, and I don’t belong in the present. There is no place for me in your world. But here, I am outside of time. I belong. My time with you and the crew has been… most wonderful. I am changed, connected to my humanity in a way I never conceived possible. But it is not sustainable. I cannot be the constant while time comes for you and Ram and Niko and Lessa.”
She was already feeling his loss, but she understood.
“They’re going to miss you.”
“And I them.” Spark gestured in the direction of Ace, and Rion knew it was time to go. They headed out together. “You should be aware… Lessa wants to attend university. I have compiled a detailed analysis of each of her top choices, as well as technology schematics to create an infallible subcutaneous ID chip in order to change her identification. I tell you because I fear she will never tell you herself.”
Rion opened her mouth, unsure of what to say, or even how to react as that little tidbit came barreling out of nowhere, but Spark held up his hand. He wasn’t finished.
“In addition, I have left theorems and blueprints for Niko, as well as a map to certain technology on Triniel that I believe he will find useful for study. I also regret to inform you that Ram is thinking of leaving the Ace of Spades as well. He purchased co-ownership of a tavern in the Erstwhile on Komoya. And Nor Fel has asked him to run the Clearing House—and would like you to be a part of that business venture as well—so that she might retire.”
Rion had nothing.
She was surprised one foot kept falling in front of the other. A warm breeze stirred her hair. They were nearly beneath Ace’s wing now. “Why are you telling me all this?” Because honestly it was kind of breaking her heart.
“It will be difficult for them to admit these things for fear it will hurt you in some way. These are your friends—our friends. And they are nothing if not loyal. Perhaps to a fault. Humans have such short life spans, so very little time.… It is imperative for them, for you, to make the most of it.”
It was all happening too fast. She wanted to slow everything down for a few minutes, to stop and think this through, to come up with a better solution than this.
“I have completed my restoration of Little Bit. He will be an excellent ship’s AI for the Ace of Spades, much on par with humanity’s smart AIs.”
“I don’t know what else to say—you’re rushing me out of here.”
“I do have an entire world to move,” Spark said lightly.
“Right. What if you’re followed?”
“Out here, there is no lingering reconciliation—the way is clear, the jump will be clean. And then I will jump again. I have already initiated portal generation.”
“Then I guess this is good-bye.” And she hated good-byes. It seemed like she was always saying good-bye to someone she cared about.
He laid a hand on her shoulder and she grabbed it, giving it a hard squeeze, and tried like hell to keep her chin up.
“You have seen me as more than just metal and code, and for that—and the adventure—I can never thank you enough.”
“Same goes.” She could hardly say those lame words, much less the elegant good-bye he was giving her. It was all shot to hell the minute she realized he was staying. She drew in a deep, somewhat shaky breath and gave him the best smile she could muster. “Well, you know where to find us.…”
“I certainly do.”
CHAPTER 43
Ace of Spades / Bastion
Rion settled into her captain’s chair and began Ace’s ignition sequence.
“Greetings, Captain,” came Little Bit’s familiar voice.
Rion smiled. “Hey there. Heard you had an upgrade.”
“What?”
Rion laughed and wiped her eyes. “An upgrade?”
“Oh, right, quite right. I did indeed. Many, many upgrades…”
She had to wonder if Spark had intentionally left LB’s predilection of absentminded responses. Knowing Spark’s wry sense of humor, she had to go with a strong yes on that one.
“All systems are online and functioning at one hundred percent. Stealth, however, is still at eighty percent. Are we leaving, Captain?”
“Yes, and we’re leaving hot. Once we clear the shield world, we make straight for the portal. Once we’re out of the portal, plot a slipspace jump directly to Myer’s Moon.”
“An excellent idea.”
The main viewscreen flickered to life to reveal Spark. “You are clear to depart, Captain Forge.”
Two versions of him filled the viewscreen, and damn it, she’d done a remarkably good job at holding it together. He was projecting an image of Chakas, his true, original self, of the man he was, perhaps a little older and wiser now. Tears stung her eyes. She cleared the thickness in her throat. “Really? You’re going to do that to me now?” After all this time.
The Chakas image shrugged and actually threw a lopsided, smart-ass grin her way. A goddamn grin. “Consider it a parting gift.”
And it truly was the best gift he could have given her.
CHAPTER 44
Ace of Spades / Myer’s Moon / November
A full week had passed, and Rion had grown weary of waiting around. The word in town hadn’t changed. Repairs were progressing with the outpost’s small comms array. The star system had been hit with a suspected EMP blast so strong it had affected even the most far-flung outposts, including Myer’s Moon and its ability to communicate with the outside world. The last anyone heard before the event had been a few maydays and brief fragmented transmissions, and there was no way to understand what had happened until comms were restored.
She was tired, irritated, worried, and wanted desperately to find her crew. She and Little Bit argued daily. He remained the calm voice of reason when her patience thinned. He was right, of course. It would make little sense to leave now before the stated rendezvous window was closed.
So she passed the time calculating ways to muzzle LB.
If he suggested one more time that she go for a swim or train the local moon crabs to fish for her supper, she might just go nuclear. And if h
e implored her again to mix the sleep tonic recipe he’d created after analyzing the local fauna, she might just go out for that swim and never come back.
Her dreams—when she did manage to sleep—were recurring since Erebus VII; always ending unfinished at that rift in the valley wall. As though there was something there she refused to see, refused to know… refused to let pass.
During her sleepless nights, she thought about her year-plus with Spark, replaying their steps from their first meeting in the hold, to mixing with the Librarian’s imprint in Africa, using the key, and everything that followed.
Her crew was fractured, Spark gone and the others light-years away. And even when they reunited, what then? Lessa wanted to go to school. Ram had bought the bar in the Erstwhile… Nor Fel had offered her and Ram a job, even. And no one had told her any of it.
If she lost her crew, she wasn’t sure she wanted to start over.
And if she didn’t start over, what was left?
She’d already lost her first family, then the Bergers, then Cade…
Though Cayce was a new aspect that hadn’t been there before. And her visit to Sonata had revealed truths about her mother that Rion hadn’t seen quite so clearly until now. The first good opportunity that came along and she had taken to the stars, leaving her mother behind. Just like her father had done dozens of times before. How that must have stung.
Stung so badly, it prompted Laine Forge to make a new life on a new planet and sever any connection to her daughter that she might’ve had. Not quite, though. Her mother had kept old photo-logs, had even looked at them…
Rion had regrets—many, in fact—but she had none when it came to finding out what happened to her father. He was gone, and she was still coming to terms with it, but her mother was still around. Maybe now was the time to make amends and get to know her brother. Someone had to make the first step.
She paused in her mindless work to stare at the shallow sea, a pretty color of clear blue topaz and sea-foam green. Other than the sea, Myer’s Moon was a hole in the wall, a backwater world with a few scattered towns, a couple of general stores, and a collection of folks who really didn’t want to be found. It was her kind of place.