by G J Ogden
“Yes, I can do it,” said Taylor, confidently. He wasn’t sure where this new confidence had come from, since he had no idea how exactly to execute the plan, but he trusted Satomi, and Satomi had said she could get them inside.
“No, it’s lunacy!” Collins hit back. “One ship against a space station is folly. We need every ship on the front line!”
“Colonel, if you’d just listen...” Sonner began, but Collins cut her off.
“No, no more talk of the Nexus or lone ships heading into enemy space!” Collins barked. “For all I know, it’s just an excuse to run home to their Hedalt masters!”
Now it was Taylor who was at serious risk of throttling the Colonel where he stood. His intransigence defied logic and appeared to be solely due to his irrational prejudice against Taylor’s simulant form.
“The original plan stands,” Collins barked, “Is that clear?”
“Yes, Colonel,” said Sonner, smartly, before anyone else in the room, including Taylor, could argue or complain further. “I’ll make sure the Contingency One is refueled and ready, in time to launch with the rest of the fleet.”
Taylor was surprised at Commander Sonner’s sudden obedience, but a sly sideways look across to him suggested she was just paying lip service.
“Good, see to it, Commander,” said Collins. “Report to me once preparations are complete.” He then bustled out of the room again, but not before giving each one of the simulants a contemptuous look, as if they were convicted criminals. The door to the workshop slid shut and another deathly calm fell over the room.
“That guy is a grade-A asshole,” grumbled Blake, breaking the silence. Then he turned to Taylor, “So, when do we leave, Cap?”
Taylor smiled and then met Sonner’s eyes, “Permission to disobey orders, Commander?”
“Permission granted, Captain,” said Sonner, “but I can’t come with you on this one, I’m afraid. I need to stay here, and make sure Collins doesn’t screw us over any more than he already plans to.”
“I understand,” said Taylor. Then he smirked, “so long as you don’t mind me sitting in your command chair?”
“It was never mine, Captain; I just borrowed it for a while,” Sonner replied. Then, with a heartfelt sincerity, she added. “The Contingency One is yours, Captain. It always was and it always will be. So long as you’re feeling up to it?”
Taylor shrugged, “I feel fine, as far as this body can feel anyway. I don’t know what your DMZ program did, but it worked.”
“You were lucky James dumped you in there,” said Sonner, “and Casey going in with you was reckless, but luckily also the right call. The DMZ allowed your neural interfaces to reset, and somehow sharing the space with Casey’s neural pattern speeded up their repair.” Then she shrugged and threw her hands out to the side, “I don’t know how or why, and honestly that bugs me. I’d love to study your brains some more.”
“There ain’t no way you’re getting inside my head, lady,” grunted Blake.
Casey scoffed, “What’s to study? There’s nothing in there but sawdust.”
Taylor laughed as Blake jostled Casey with his shoulder. Sonner rolled her eyes and continued, “What I do know is that if you’d been exposed to that purge for a few seconds longer there would have been nothing left of you to save.”
“Well, I don’t plan on going back in any time soon,” said Taylor, “It would be like willingly sticking my head inside a lion’s mouth.”
“But without your little ‘party trick’, how do you plan on getting inside the Nexus?” asked Sonner.
“Honestly, I haven’t quite worked that one out yet,” admitted Taylor, “But I’ve been promised some help when we get there.”
Sonner frowned at the cryptic response, but then Blake stepped forward and coughed loudly to get their attention, “I hate to be the one makin’ sense around here,” he began, “but when we launch with the fleet an’ Collins sees we’re headin’ someplace other than where he tells us, I don’t trust him not to blow us outta the sky.”
“I guess we’ll just have to rely on Casey’s ace piloting again,” suggested Taylor, but Casey was shaking her head.
“I can dodge three or maybe four ships easy enough, Cap,” said Casey, “but not ninety-nine.”
“We don’t need to dodge ‘em,” said Blake, “we just need someone willin’ to get in the way long enough for us to make the jump. A sorta wingman. Even Collins ain’t crazy enough to shoot through one of his own.”
Taylor rubbed his chin, “We don’t know these crews well enough to find someone willing to do that. Or who we could really trust. The esteemed commander aside, the human crew seem to look at us with a mix of fear and suspicion, no doubt thanks to Collins. ”
“I have an idea about that,” said Sonner, matching Taylor’s earlier mystery, “but it means me making peace with an old friend.”
TWELVE
Sarah Sonner entered the flight crew ready room and nervously scanned her eyes across the different tables and recreation areas until she saw the person she was looking for. She smoothed the creases out of her uniform jacket with the clammy palm of her hand and then adjusted her hair, before sucking in a long breath and letting it out slowly. “Okay, Sarah, here goes nothing…”
Sonner strode confidently over to a table with four flight crew sitting around it, drinking coffee while chatting and joking. The table fell silent as Sonner appeared in front of them.
A man wearing Captain’s rank insignia initially looked like he’d seen a ghost, but then abruptly stood up and called out, “Crew, attention!” The other three pushed out their chairs and stood rigidly, all looking at Sonner.
“Sit down, all of you,” said Sonner making a sort of pushing gesture with her hands, as if she was directing an invisible force that was pressing them down into their seats again. Then she looked at the Captain and said, “You know I don’t go in for all that formality crap, Reese.”
“I know,” said the captain, “but I wouldn’t want you to think I don’t take my responsibilities and commitments seriously now, would I?”
“Oh, hell, really?” said Sonner, “We’re just going to go straight into this? Don’t you want to introduce me to your crew first?” Then she waved at the others, “Hi, I’m your Captain’s ex-wife and we hate each other’s guts.”
The other three flight crew looked at each other awkwardly and then almost in perfect unison peered across to their Captain, in what was obviously a plea for help.
“Take five, everyone,” said Reese, casually wafting a hand towards them, “the Commander obviously needs me for something,” then he added, snippily, “for a change...”
Sonner laughed and shook her head, but the other crew were more than happy to accept Reese’s invitation to scarper, and they all did so sharply, without a second look back at either Sonner or their Captain. Once they were safely out of earshot, Reese turned back to Sonner and threw up a stiff salute, “Captain Reese Turner, reporting for duty, sir.”
“Knock it off, Reese, I have something serious to talk to you about,” said Sonner, dragging one of the chairs away from the table and sitting down.
“Serious is all there is to talk about these days,” said Reese, lowering the salute and them himself into his seat. But whereas Sonner sat upright and alert, as if she was sitting an exam, Reese relaxed, resting one arm over the back of the chair.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you earlier,” said Sonner looking down at her hands, which were bundled together on the table.
“It’s okay, Sarah, I know you’ve been a little pre-occupied,” Reese replied, his voice now lacking the acid bite it had earlier. “Everyone on this base knows what you’ve done for us. You’re quite the celebrity, in fact. My crew nearly peed their pants when they saw you marching over.”
Sonner smiled, “Well, I’m glad they didn’t.”
“You and me both,” said Reese, returning the smile. He leaned forward and rested his arms on the table, so that his hands wer
e only a few centimeters from Sonner’s. “So, what’s up, Sarah? Even though there are only a few hundred humans left alive, you must still be pretty desperate if I’m the person you’ve turned to.”
“Come on, Reese, you’d be the one person I turned to if there were still ten billion humans alive,” Sonner replied, annoyed by how easily he was willing to start a fight. The heel of her foot was tapping uncontrollably on the deck plating. “And you know it.”
“Really?” said Reese, with mock surprise. “Not your new simulant companion? What’s his name again? Taylor Ray? Sounds like a superstar wrestler if you ask me...”
Sonner cocked her head and relaxed back in her chair, mirroring Reese’s earlier casual stance, “Seriously? You’re jealous of a robot?”
“It’s the jilted party’s prerogative to be jealous of their ex-partner’s new squeeze...”
“Really, Reese, we don’t have time for this...”
“If not now, then when, Sarah?” Reese cut in, suddenly far more earnest, but there was also anger close beneath the surface. “The world already ended once, and both of us dodged that bullet. But even if we win this battle, not all of us will make it.”
“That’s why I’m here, Reese,” said Sonner, again leaning towards him and placing her hands on his. “There’s a way we can even the odds, perhaps even flip them in our favor.” Then she winced, “but it means not exactly obeying orders.”
Reese laughed and leaned back again, pulling his hands out from underneath Sonner’s, “Not conforming is your specialty, Sarah. But, I’m just glad to hear you do need me after all.”
“It was your choice to take the promotion, Reese,” said Sonner, starting to lose her patience, and her temper. “We both agreed to leave Earth Fleet, but it was your choice to stay. All our plans, our dreams – this new life we both wanted – you walked out on it. You left me first, Reese.”
“Damn it, Sarah, but I came back,” Reese snapped. “You’d already had a career and made Captain. You’d already got what you wanted out of Earth Fleet. I didn’t want to leave and then always regret passing up a shot at the big chair. You’d think I blamed you, and part of me would always be sour about it too.”
“I know that, Reese, I don’t blame you...”
“But you did, Sarah,” Reese interrupted, “I came back, but you’d already shut me out.”
“I was angry. I wanted to shut you out...” said Sonner, and then she realized this was probably the first time she’d admitted that to Reese or herself. She took a breath, realizing that both of their voices were growing louder and starting to draw interested glances from others in the room. She lowered her voice and continued, “…and I couldn’t trust that you wouldn’t change your mind again. I never wanted to be the reason you gave up on Earth Fleet, Reese. You’d resent me for that. You had to want it for yourself.”
Reese ran a hand through his hair and blew out a sigh. “Look at us. Three hundred years after the end of the world, and we’re still at each other’s throats like...”
“Like an old married couple?” Sonner suggested, completing his sentence.
“Yeah, just like that,” said Reese, smiling again. “Hell, none of it matters now, Sarah, but for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
Sarah reached across the table and took Reese’s hands again. “It does matter, Reese,” she said squeezing his palms gently. “How we feel, the mistakes we make and what we do about them – that’s what makes us human. We have to do everything we can to make sure that survives; to make sure humanity survives.” Then she looked down at the table again and added, timidly, “But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too.”
Sonner couldn’t see them because she was still looking down at the off-white table top, but Reese’s eyes grew wide. In their five years together, Sonner had rarely apologized for anything, at least not in words. He knew how hard it would have been for her to do so then. Their brief, contemplative silence made them suddenly aware of the now dozens of pairs of eyes all watching them. It was like being under a spotlight, making them feel hot and uncomfortable. They both sat back, drawing their hands away and onto their laps and trying hard to look normal.
“So, what is it you need me to do, Sarah,” said Reese, after most of the eyes had eventually peeled away. “What’s this amazing plan to flip the odds in our favor?”
“Collins has your crew on quick reaction alert, right?” said Sonner, feeling more comfortable and confident now that they’d moved beyond the personal stuff. But, she also felt like a heavy load had been lifted. She was glad that circumstances had forced her to speak to Reese, because if she was honest with herself, she knew she wouldn’t have done so otherwise.
“Yeah, that’s why we’re sitting in here, drinking coffee and not something stronger,” said Reese, then he grimaced down at the cup in front of him, “though I’d hesitate to call this sludge coffee…” Sonner smiled. A love of coffee was one of the things they shared. After leaving Earth Fleet, they had planned to start a boutique coffee shop together, roasting the beans in-house and playing around with different brewing techniques. “Not that it would matter if we were half-cooked, anyway, because I don’t know how quickly any of us can react when it means piloting out through that damn tunnel.”
“For what I need you to do, you’ll already be outside this lava tube,” said Sonner.
“Go on, I’m listening…”
“When the fleet departs for the attack on Earth, the Hedalt Corvette will break away,” continued Sonner, keeping her voice low so that nearby tables couldn’t overhear, “Collins will probably order it to be pursued and destroyed. I need you to stick close to it and get in the way.”
“Get in the way…” Reese repeated, as if the words were the most insane that Sonner had ever spoken to him.
“Yes, get in the way,” Sonner reiterated, ignoring Reese’s growing discomfort. “I need you to make sure no other ship can get a shot off without risk of hitting you. Collins will order you to break off so one of the other ships can attack, but whatever you do, don’t. Tell Collins you’re having weapons difficulties, or comms problems; whatever, I don’t care. Just give that Corvette time to jump.”
Sonner had never seen Reese look as scared or as flabbergasted as he did right in that moment. He anxiously checked the other tables around him, but the room had gone back to minding their own business and no-one was paying attention to their exchange anymore. Reese swallowed hard and leant in towards Sonner.
“Are you out of your damn mind?” he asked, managing to control his voice and maintain a mostly neutral expression, despite feeling like he needed to jump up and yell at her. “Why in the hell would I do that?”
“Because the Hedalt already have an armada at Earth that is at least twice the strength we have, maybe more,” said Sonner now with ice-cold seriousness, “and once they detect our fleet jumping the threads, they’ll only send more. We have no chance in a straight up firefight, Reese. No chance at all.”
“But, how do you know that?” said Reese, stress leaking into his voice and expression.
“Taylor has the ability to hook into the CoreNet and travel inside the Fabric,” Sonner continued. “He’s seen the fleet at Earth, but Collins won’t listen to him. He thinks he’s a Hedalt spy or something.”
“Well, have you considered that he might be, Sarah?” asked Reese. The tone of his voice was almost accusatory. “He used to be one of their programmed automaton killers for crying out loud!” Reese had raised his voice again and was starting to draw attention back to their table.
Sonner’s face remained glacially calm and she waited until the renewed interest had faded before speaking. “I trust Taylor Ray with my life, Reese. Besides you, there’s no-one I trust more, living or in the past. He’s one of us. None of us would be here if it weren’t for him.”
Reese rubbed his face and let out another deep sigh. “Not everyone thinks so, Sarah,” he said, lowering his voice again. “Collins hasn’t been shy about voicing his reservatio
ns, and people are listening. A lot of the crews are uncomfortable having them around. It doesn’t help that his ship has been showing them up in combat drills for the last week or so.”
“Collins is an asshole,” Sonner snapped back, briefly losing her iron grip over her emotions, “I wouldn’t trust him to lead me through a doorway, never mind into a battle for the fate of humanity.”
“Jeez, Sarah, don’t make it sound so melodramatic...”
“Wake up, Reese,” Sarah snapped again, “that’s not being dramatic! That’s exactly what this is all about. Collins is going to get us all killed, except this time there is no Contingency. Dead means dead, Reese. Dead means the end of the human race.”
Sonner’s last speech had the sobering effect of a bucket of ice water being tipped over Reese’s head and the blood suddenly rushed from his face. He quickly checked that no-one was looking and then shook his head, knowing he would regret what he was about to do.
“Before I agree to help your robot friends get away – which is treason, by the way – you have to tell me why, Sarah. What can one ship do against the entire Hedalt armada?”
“Are you sure you want to know?” asked Sonner, cocking her head to the side. “Plausible deniability, and all that?
“If I’m going to stick my neck out, and risk the lives of my crew, I need to know why.”
“You could tell Collins that you did it for your ex-wife, whom you’ve never stopped loving...” said Sonner, with a wry smirk.
“I thought you said plausible deniability,” Reese answered, with a matching smirk.
Sonner scowled, “Ouch...” but then she smiled. “Okay, if you really want to know, Taylor has a plan to disable every simulant in the galaxy. There’s a single space station that controls them all, and he’s going to blow it up.”
From his reaction, this was clearly not an answer that Reese had anticipated, but he seemed buoyed by it. “But that would cripple their ships,” he said, suddenly realizing how profound an advantage that would give them. “Your robot friend can really do that?”