“Long ago, I left Flora on what was meant to be a hundred-year research voyage.”
“A hundred years out in space?” Carly yelped. She was already starting to get claustrophobic on the Cloud Leopard after only a few months. She couldn’t imagine volunteering to spend a lifetime wandering through the stars.
“Voyages of this length are typical for my people,” Chris explained. “As you can see, we age at a much slower rate than humans. Our lives are long, and many of us choose to fill them with as many new sights, new places, new peoples as we can.”
“So you came to check out Earth, and you liked it so much that you stayed?” Gabriel guessed.
“Not exactly. About forty years ago, your Earth time, a young astrophysicist picked up what he believed were signs of alien life. Specifically, he detected the exhaust from my ship. He was smart and ambitious, and determined to have contact with an alien life-form. I had no immediate plans to visit Earth. But he lured me with a series of distress calls—and he succeeded.”
“So this guy fooled you, super-advanced, hyper-intelligent alien space voyager?” Gabriel asked.
“I’m afraid he did.”
Gabriel thought it sounded like a pretty dirty trick. But he couldn’t help being a tiny bit impressed.
“My ship was damaged upon landing,” Chris continued. “And so I was stranded on your planet, at the mercy of this astrophysicist, Ike Phillips, who wanted to use my knowledge and technology for his own advancement.”
Ike Phillips? Gabriel mouthed at Dash, who raised his eyebrows.
“He didn’t care how it might benefit his species or his world. He dreamed of power and profit—the more he could accumulate, the better. He kept me secret on Base Ten, where I have lived for the last several decades.”
“But Ike Phillips doesn’t even run Base Ten,” Dash pointed out. “Shawn Phillips is in charge.”
“Indeed he is. Now. Ike’s son Shawn grew up in my company. We became what your people might think of as family. And unlike his father, Shawn cares about helping his planet. When the power started going out, he and I came to see that we might have the solution to the energy crisis.”
“You’re the one who told him about the Source,” Dash guessed, his mind racing. Phillips had never mentioned his father, but there’d been whispers around the base, stories of the stern commander who’d once been in charge. If he was anything like Chris said, it was hard to imagine him raising a son like Shawn. “And you helped him build the Cloud Leopard so that we could go and find it.”
“Yes, Dash. This mission is something Shawn and I dreamed up together. It has been my privilege to join you on it, to see these dreams come to reality.”
“So you just want to help the people of Earth out of the goodness of your heart,” Carly said.
“I do.”
“Even though we lured you down under false pretenses, and ruined your ship, and kept you prisoner for the last forty years.” She snorted. “Yeah, I can totally see why you’d love us.”
“Ike Phillips is only one man,” Chris said. “Not all humanity.”
“Sure, that’s what you say now,” Gabriel said. “But you’ve been lying to us this whole time, so who’s to say you’re not lying now?”
“We don’t know that he’s lying,” Piper pointed out, trying to be fair.
“Thank you, Piper,” Chris said.
“Of course, we also don’t know that he’s telling the truth,” she added.
“That’s everything?” Carly said. “There’s nothing else we don’t know?”
Chris sighed. “There are a great number of things you don’t know. The things you don’t know about the universe, about my people, about your own, they would take several lifetimes to learn. There is no such thing as knowing everything. There is only knowing enough.”
Chris was so good at answers that said nothing, Dash thought. He hadn’t minded it so much until now. He hadn’t thought about all the things Chris wasn’t saying.
“I assure you that you can trust me,” Chris said. “You must trust me. Especially now, on this planet. I created all civilization on Meta Prime, I know it inside and out—I can get you off safely, with the element you need. Once you’re back on the ship, I can answer all your questions and more.”
“Here’s one you should answer right now,” Gabriel said. “If you created this place, and you’re on our side, how come Lord Cain was doing his best to kill us?”
“I…well…it seems I’ve lost control over the Cain side of the planet. Originally I believed it might simply be malfunctioning,” Chris admitted.
“But now?” Gabriel prodded him.
“But now I suspect that the person they call Colin, on the Light Blade, must be at the controls.”
“The one that looks like you,” Dash said. “The one you said you’d never seen before.”
“That was true,” Chris said. “But Ike Phillips had many opportunities over the years to extract samples of my DNA. Given Colin’s appearance, given the similarities between his ship and our own, I can only surmise that Ike created a clone of me—one that has my memories, and my knowledge. It is somewhat disconcerting.”
“You think Ike Phillips is the one who sent the Light Blade after us?” Dash said. “He doesn’t sound like the kind of guy who’s all that interested in saving the world.”
“No,” Chris said. “I don’t believe him to be that kind of guy.”
He paused to let that sink in.
Whoever succeeded in this mission would have the most powerful energy source the world had ever seen, Dash thought. Free renewable energy could improve the lives of every person on the planet.
Or it could improve the life of the person who controlled it.
Especially if that person was only out for himself.
“I believe Colin is controlling Lord Cain,” Chris continued, “attempting to delay you in your mission to the advantage of his own crew.”
“That’s pretty sketchy,” Carly said.
“I would agree,” Chris said.
“And if he’s an exact copy of you, doesn’t that mean you’re pretty sketchy too?” Carly added.
“Even a clone has free will,” Chris said. “If everything he knows about life comes from Ike Phillips, I can only imagine the kind of person this Colin has become. He is sure to be ruthless and likely without much respect for the lives and needs of others. So you see, you need my help.”
“Assuming we can trust anything you say,” Gabriel said. He looked to Dash. “What do you think?”
Dash wasn’t just the team leader—he was the one who had gotten to know Chris the best. He was the one who trusted Chris the most. But now he didn’t know what he thought.
He only knew how he felt, which was foolish, and betrayed.
And more determined than ever to collect all the elements—and to do it before Ike Phillips’s Omega team had a chance.
“I think we can finish this mission on our own,” Dash said. “And we can deal with everything else when we get back to the ship. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Piper said.
Gabriel nodded. “Agreed.”
“Agreed,” Carly put in, though she didn’t sound too happy about it.
“Not agreed!” Chris said urgently. “You need me to—”
Dash cut off the radio.
“You really think we can handle this all on our own?” Gabriel asked.
Piper chewed at her lip.
Dash forced a confident grin. “Looks like we’re about to find out!”
“Okay, Gabriel, you’re up,” Dash said. If Gabriel couldn’t figure out how to reprogram TULIP to follow their commands, then this mission was a dead end.
Gabriel pulled out his tool kit and pried open the slogger’s command panel. “I’ve never met a machine I couldn’t get on my side,” he said, studying the complex knot of wires and chips. “No reason to think that’s going to change now. And now that I know the same mind that designed the Cloud Leopard built this little
guy—trust me, I got this.”
He sounded confident enough—but as the minutes dragged on, Dash started to get nervous. Gabriel was still just staring at the inside of TULIP’s head, like he was waiting for a message. Or maybe an instruction guide.
“Are you going to, you know, do something?” Dash asked.
“I’m thinking,” Gabriel murmured.
“Give him time,” Piper said softly. “He’ll figure it out. And if he doesn’t…”
“No,” Dash said firmly. The more unsure he was, the more certain he tried to seem. “We’re not asking Chris. We can do this ourselves. Right, Gabriel?”
But Gabriel didn’t answer. He’d plunged elbow-deep into TULIP’s circuitry, clipping and twisting, severing and soldering. TULIP beeped and chittered.
“Sounds like it tickles,” Dash said.
“You’re not hurting him—er, her, are you?” Piper asked, worried.
“It’s a machine,” Gabriel reminded her. “It can’t feel pain.”
“How would you know?” Piper asked. She was used to people making assumptions about her. There were plenty of things people thought she couldn’t do—and they were wrong. She knew better than to make that kind of assumption about other people. Even when the people were machines.
“Ask it yourself,” Gabriel said, easing the panel shut. “I’m all done here.”
“That fast? You really did it?” Dash asked, hope rising.
“Did you ever doubt me?” Gabriel said. “Wait, don’t answer that.” He patted TULIP proudly on the head. “Go on, girl, tell Piper that it didn’t hurt a bit.”
TULIP trilled happily.
“And now you’re going to help us get some Magnus 7 out of the river, right?”
TULIP trilled again, and to Dash, it sounded a lot like an enthusiastic yes.
—
They couldn’t go back the way they came. Without Garquin, they’d have no hope of getting past the moving checkerboard floor. Even if they wanted to open communications with the ship again, they couldn’t try the targeted electromagnetic pulse—all the doors to the outside were run by electronics. If they blew out the circuits while they were still inside the complex, they could be trapped there forever.
“Is there another way out, TULIP?” Gabriel asked. “We need to get down to the lava river. But not through the main entrance.”
The slogger cheeped happily at him and toddled off down a corridor. Gabriel still didn’t believe that a mining machine like this could have a personality…but he had to admit, TULIP seemed to like him the best.
He didn’t mind.
They followed the slogger through a labyrinth of corridors. They passed hundreds of other sloggers, all of them inert, waiting for Lord Cain’s signal to direct them. Piper wondered what they were thinking, if they could think. She wondered what TULIP was thinking, speeding past all her frozen brothers and sisters. Did she feel sorry for them? Piper did. What must it be like, spending your entire life following someone else’s commands?
Without Lord Cain around to get in the way, it was simple getting to the outside.
The problems only started when they got there.
Problem number one: TULIP took them out by an alternate route, just like they’d asked. And Dash could see why no one went this way. When they passed through the wall, they found themselves standing on a ledge, two hundred feet above the ground.
Problem number two: They’d cut off Lord Cain’s control over the inside of his complex but not the outside. The cannons along the wall were firing and would until they ran out of fuel. Flaming lava balls flew across the river, showering the Alpha crew with a rain of sparks.
But Garquin wasn’t fighting back.
“He doesn’t want to risk it,” Piper guessed. “I bet he won’t fire until we’re safe.”
A single fireball from Lord Garquin’s side could have incinerated the whole Alpha crew in one shot.
“Not sure I like betting my life on alien logic,” Gabriel said.
Garquin’s side was taking a beating. Lava splattered the towering wall, scorching and melting large swaths of machinery. Steel sizzled away, leaving gaping holes in the circuitry. Dash wondered how much the complex could take before it was destroyed.
Piper took a deep breath. It was good to be outside again, under open sky. Even if the sky was lit up by flaming balls of molten lava. “Poor Lord Garquin,” she said.
“Uh, did you forget there is no Lord Garquin?” Gabriel reminded her.
“I know, but…it feels like there is, you know?”
It was silly, but Dash did know. He’d heard Garquin’s voice, followed Garquin’s directions. It was Garquin who’d gotten them into Cain’s complex and helped them find TULIP. And now it was Garquin getting pummeled because he wanted to keep the Alpha team safe. Even though Lord Garquin didn’t actually exist, Dash felt a little bad for him too.
“It’s not our problem,” Dash reminded Piper. Saying it out loud helped him remember. “Or, at least, it won’t be as soon as we can get the Magnus 7 and get off this planet. So let’s get started.”
Piper peered dubiously over the ledge, two hundred feet down. “Are we supposed to jump?”
TULIP squawked at them, then chugged down a narrow ramp clinging to the side of the wall. Slowly but surely, the robot led them through the strange obstacle course that scaled the side of the wall.
“This is insane,” Dash complained as he inched precariously across a foot-wide catwalk. “Who would build a pathway like this?”
“Makes a crazy kind of sense to me,” Gabriel said. “Now that we know this whole planet is basically one big video game. It’s almost fun.”
“This is your idea of fun?” Piper said, looking at him like he was nuts.
Gabriel ducked a splatter of lava, then clung tight to the narrow conveyer belt that would carry them down another twenty feet. “Well…yeah.”
Piper was just glad for her air chair. It was more surefooted than anyone’s legs could be.
Still, she didn’t look down.
After what seemed like an eternity, the path forked. To the right, a smooth, curved surface veered steeply down, like a playground slide. To the left, what looked like a million stairs descended toward ground level. TULIP stopped in between, as if uncertain.
“Which way?” Piper asked the robot.
TULIP beeped twice. It sounded like an apology.
“I don’t think she knows,” Piper said.
“Good thing I do,” Gabriel said, pointing at the slide. “I don’t know about you, but my legs are killing me, and I’d like to get off this planet before it tries killing me. Again. Slide’s faster than stairs, simple.”
Dash agreed with Gabriel that the sooner they got back to the ship—and Carly—the better.
“But is it too simple?” Piper argued, wishing she agreed with Gabriel. The air chair could hover down the stairs, but it wouldn’t be very much fun. “You said it yourself, if this is a planet-sized video game, it makes sense that everything’s so complicated and hard. Why would Chris build in an easy shortcut, so close to the end?”
Dash agreed with her too.
“Uh, because it’s fun?” Gabriel said. “You said it yourself—this place is built to be fun, and slides are officially fun. Definitely more fun than stairs.”
“That’s a really steep slide,” Piper said. “By the time we got to the bottom, we’d be going pretty fast.”
“Duh. That’s the point,” Gabriel said, itching to get started.
“And what are you going to do at the bottom, when you’re going so fast you can’t stop yourself from—”
“Yeah, from what?” he challenged.
“From, I don’t know, from sailing straight into the mouth of some carnivorous beast,” Piper suggested, her voice rising.
Gabriel waved it off. “You’ve got Raptogons on the brain. Wrong planet. Wrong problem.”
“Your way’s risky,” Piper said.
“Your way’s slow. And in cas
e you haven’t noticed, we’re in the middle of a war here. What’s riskier than slow?”
“What do you say, Dash?” Piper asked. “Which way should we go?”
“Yeah, oh fearless team leader,” Gabriel said. “What’s your vote?” Gabriel hated letting Dash decide. Not that he wasn’t a great leader—Gabriel couldn’t deny he was the perfect guy to lead this mission. But having a leader meant being a follower, and he wasn’t particularly good at that. It was easier to listen to a suggestion than obey an order.
He was working on it.
“What’s it going to be, Dash? Pointlessly hard work, or some good, fast fun?”
Dash didn’t answer. They both made sense. How was he supposed to know who was right?
Of course, there was one way: he could ask the guy who built it. The alien who built it.
But no way was he going to do that. No matter what.
—
Safe in the Clipper, the shuttle that would carry them back to the Light Blade, Anna, Niko, and Siena watched the fireballs rain down on Lord Garquin’s kingdom. Their little slogger was crammed into the crawl space behind the seats, a sample of Magnus 7 safe in his belly. They’d succeeded—and they’d done it a lot faster than the crew of the Cloud Leopard.
Down on Meta Prime, Lord Garquin’s domain was burning. Thick clouds of billowing black smoke almost hid it from view. Anna wondered how many more hits it could take before it totally collapsed.
“You almost feel bad for the guy,” Niko said. He shifted uncomfortably in the seat. The cushioning was so thin you could feel the springs and the metal frame. Nothing about this ship, or the Light Blade, for that matter, was built for human comfort. It felt like riding around space in a go-kart. Niko was constantly tripping over misaligned panels, slamming his elbow into half-screwed-in bolts, slicing his palm on sharp edges. Everything felt slapped together at the last minute, like the time Niko hadn’t bothered to start his science project until the night before the science fair. That project had, literally, blown up in his face. Niko spent a lot of his time hoping the Light Blade wouldn’t do the same.
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