by Michael Kan
Chapter 50
Arendi felt her face. Her softer left hand touched the skin and then the damage. Her fingers crossed over the burns and cuts. The synthetic fibers beneath and maybe even the bone metal opened like boils across her cheeks and forehead. She had no mirror, but she could tell the wounds were visible.
She stretched her right arm, the mechanical claw. It was also maimed and distorted. The surfaces were riddled with scratches and dents each a memento from the fighting. She was tired of the sight and let the arm detach from her shoulder and drop to the floor with a loud clank. She then groaned, staring down at her tattered self.
Alysdeon was nearby and reassured her. She patted Arendi’s shoulders and then her hair.
They waited at the edge of the mother ship, next to the docking port. The Destroyer was there as well, leaning against a wall. The blond-haired man gazed up to the ceiling, imagining the other sight.
To return, he said, thinking past the bulkhead and to the fleet hovering outside, after twenty-one years.
The strike force slowed and gathered around the mother ship. The battle had finally ended. The last of the swarm had retreated, beaten and with nothing left to defend.
The Enforcer and his Gateway lay in the dust, annihilated. The reaction had failed to go off. The energy conversion had ultimately stalled and declined as the entire pylon network had come crashing down.
Victory, the Destroyer whispered to himself, amused. Even he had doubted their chances. Secretly, he had half-expected something closer to a glorious death. Life, however, had chosen to surprise him.
Our reinforcements, the Destroyer remarked. They were practically hiding in plain sight.
The lost fleet. They had all assumed that the strike force had been obliterated all those years ago. The records from the Defector had indicated as much.
The entire crew of officers is believed to be dead, the final messages had shown. 256 core ships destroyed a total loss.
The Destroyer smirked, glad the intel was wrong. The fleet had, in fact, disappeared into the realm of the Endervars. The alien reality had claimed them, leaving the strike force nearly trapped.
Yes, Arendi said. I guess we were never really alone.
It was a comforting thought. They had traveled to the other side of the galaxy, into the unknown, only to find the familiar. In a moment of desperate need, the fleet had come pouring out of the abyss. But even so, the wait had been long. More than two decades long.
A lot has probably changed, Arendi said, thinking of those years and then of herself. She touched her face again and wondered about that. Her artificial mind was flipping through the eras. The memories, stretching back to thirty years ago, churned in her machine sights. Then her gaze shifted. Her eyes focused on the now.
Alysdeon walked the floor, moving closer to the docking port door. The implants across the woman’s cheeks flashed gold. Her telepathy was reaching past the hull into nearby space. Through the void, she felt the longing and smiled with a warm blush.
she said. To her, and to them all, this was a rare reunion.
The vessel from the strike force was preparing to dock. The Au-O’sanah a living and thinking bioship approached. The craft also felt Alysdeon; it was eager to meet, and so was the pilot in command.
The gears in the bulkhead wall cranked. The landing bridge outside attached. The docking port door then opened as a man appeared at the other end. He awkwardly wobbled, entering the lighter gravity. His eyes, however, were searching for them.
It’s confirmed, the pilot said. Yes. They’re here.
Julian spoke the words into the comm-link at his collar. The fleet listened as other vessels began to dock. His voice, however, rose past formality and into pleasant disbelief. He looked at Arendi from afar and then glanced at Alysdeon and the Destroyer. The three figures were out the open, gathered together inside the corridor.
I never expected this, he said with a grin.
As Julian stepped on board the mother ship, Arendi came closer, thinking the same thing. She watched him, somewhat cautious.
He was only a few feet away now, dressed in a black Alliance uniform. He slung the plasma rifle over his back, and pulled off the combat visor that was covering his eyes. Yes, it was him, in the flesh. It was obvious the moment he arrived. The look and the voice, even his gait it was all there. This was no simulation. This was reality.
Arendi heard his step and then his breath. For a moment, she was even tempted to scan him to verify it. He seemed so oddly identical to her memories of him. The sudden familiarity seemed unreal. Ironically, she was also a bit afraid. To remember was one thing but to see and meet the truth was another.
Julian, she said, tense.
It’s been a long time, he replied, relaxed and elated. Despite the bruises and cuts over her face, Julian still recognized her.
He was in high spirits and came to hug her. The embrace was casual and light. In turn, Arendi patted his back with her left arm and then touched his hair. It was real and not a memory. She felt the strands of hair in her fingers and then his heartbeat against her chest. His presence made her hold on tight. She sniffed and smiled. He was finally here.
Julian, however, pulled away. He gazed over her again, unsettled. He had to ask, squinting: Are you OK?
His eyes darted up and down her body, alarmed. Julian saw her partially broken face and then touched her right shoulder, feeling where the arm had come off. The cybernetic armor over her body and all the damage to her made her appear more machine than woman.
What happened? he asked, clearly concerned.
She glanced down at herself and then back to Julian, realizing that he was completely unaware. The man had returned after two decades without any idea of all that had occurred. The Gateway and the Enforcer and so much else. Julian would have aged.
Arendi took a step back, noticing his confused face. I’m fine, she said tersely. Don’t worry. I’m fine.
She forced a smile, but both of them could tell something was off. Julian, on the other hand, appeared perfectly fine, almost unchanged.
He then went to hug Alysdeon. The Destroyer, meanwhile, merely waved. The blond-haired man was too proud to do much more. He let his holographic appearance slowly recede as the drone projecting it walked off.
Julian glanced at the man and at his friends, thankful. All of you are here, he said. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see any of you again.
We almost were, he replied.
He blew the air out from his cheeks, relieved. For him, the whole experience was just as surreal and sudden. Julian scratched his beard and thought back to the fleet. Before his reemergence, the strike force had nearly been crushed. He stared at the floor, remembering it.
Our contact with the Unity told us about the target here. We knew it was vital, so we attacked, Julian said. But we didn’t quite understand what was happening to the surrounding space. By then, it was all starting to warp.
The experiment had effectively pulled the entire strike force into another realm. The forces at work had quickly plunged the area into a cosmic whirlpool. He recalled the chaos and all the fighting. The battle was almost over, but then it was too late, Julian said.
Their retreat had sent them astray and taken them to an alien frontier.
The Endervars, Arendi said. That’s where you went. To the point of origin.
That was our guess as well. Except we didn’t find anything.
Julian placed his hand firmly against the bulkhead nearby. It reminded him of the alien realm: a wall, but moving and closing in on all sides.
From what we could tell, their world was dying, he said. There was nothing left and nowhere to go. Reality itself was probably about to collapse.
The var
ious ships had roamed the region, essentially lost. The sensors on board had failed to understand much about the surrounding phenomena or find a way out. In the end, the fleet had been forced to congregate in an area of rapidly shrinking space.
It seemed hopeless, Julian admitted. But thanks to you, we made it out alive.
The opening the bridge
Arendi thought the words as she listened. The spatial energies had briefly created a rift in time and space. It was through those powers that the promise had come true the strike force had returned, finally free.
Julian smiled at Arendi and Alysdeon. He was grateful to be back. He even assumed it was Arendi who had saved him and the rest of the fleet. But the gratitude was perhaps owed to someone else.
Arendi glanced at the darkened corridors of the mother ship and then back to Julian. If only he knew
But in time, he would. There was much to explain and express.
Twenty-one years
Arendi was about to say it. She came closer to him, making her own assumptions about the passage of time and all its effects. It seemed straightforward. She expected changes. But as she watched him speak, she paused. The face, the voice, even the way he moved it all bothered her. She then realized why. Julian looked exactly the same. He hadn’t aged at all. He had little if any gray in his hair or wrinkles under his eyes. Unless he had undergone some sort of treatment, Julian should have been sixty years old by now a man beyond her memories. Time, however, had been unusually kind to Julian. Arendi saw someone who was closer to forty. For a man in this day and age, he was still relatively young.
She touched his face, wondering again whether he was real. You don’t know, do you? she asked.
Know what?
The time. The date, she said. Do you know how long you’ve been gone?
Julian heard the question and flinched. He bit his upper lip, already partially aware of the truth.
I know what you’re getting at, and we suspected something, he said. The physical laws in the other reality they act very differently.
Time, he then added. From what we could tell, it moved much slower. It wasn’t until the rift opened that it suddenly accelerated.
He scratched the back of his neck and paced the floor pensively. For us, only a few months passed, he said. But for you
Julian trailed off and stared at the two women. His eyes wandered, moving from nuance to nuance, noticing the differences. Some were subtle, others less so. Alysdeon, for instance, had cut her long, gold hair down to her neck.
In Arendi, the changes were more pronounced. She was taller than he remembered. Bigger and stronger, in fact. Her artificial body had probably been upgraded. He could guess why.
Sentinel Soldanas he said, smiling.
Julian then thought to the other possible changes. It made him raise his eyebrows, not sure what to expect. He straightened his spine and braced for the truth.
What’s the damage? he reluctantly asked. How many years has it been?
Arendi and Alysdeon both looked at each other, not sure what to say.
Yes. Arendi’s tone was delicate, but her words were blunt. It’s been 21 years and 302 days to be exact, she said, since the day you left Alliance space.
Julian took a deep breath and groaned. Shit he muttered. It was another surprise, one he didn’t quite like.
That’s a bit more than we thought, he said. We were hoping it was closer to a decade.
Julian stared at the surroundings walls, taking it in. He ruffled his hair and slouched his back, all the while looking around wide-eyed.
Twenty-one years almost twenty-two, he said, sighing in disbelief. A long time to be gone.
Indeed, it was. Enough to bring out his anxiety and another sigh.
But it doesn’t matter, Arendi said. It’s just good to have you here.
She grabbed his hand and held it tight, smiling thankfully.
Likewise, Julian said, squeezing back.
The years might have passed, but there would be plenty of time to catch up. Julian had fought long enough. All of them had. Alysdeon put her arms around them.
Yes, Julian said. Finally.
He looked at his friends, happy. I think it’s time we go home.
***
She sat in the shadows, listening. The echoes whispered through the hallways and into her mind. The talk of strangers of former enemies made her cringe, almost with regret.
Home, Farcia thought. I have no such thing. Not anymore.
The tears might have dried, but the pain from all her losses still lingered. Farcia felt the wounds, both mentally and physically. She crossed her arms, shivering, all the implants clinging to her back and neck. The machine metal chattered with every ache. She scratched her face, wondering if she could endure; the gills in her cheeks spat and groaned.
The blond-haired man, however, sought to reassure her. Don’t worry. You’ll live.
He stood over Farcia, examining her condition. Neon-colored scans were running over her face and body.
Extensive surgery will be needed, he explained. Although it may take some time, you will be free of this.
She raised her sullen face and looked at the holographic man with doubt.
No, she whispered. No, I won’t. Not after all I’ve done.
Perhaps the implants could be removed, but not the guilt or the shame, let alone her sins. Farcia would never be free of that.
I’ve done things terrible things, she added. The cruelty
She deserved no one’s pity or care. Farcia sat there, shriveled and mutilated, like an abomination. Part of her just wanted to be left alone to languish. The blond-haired man nodded, but with a smirk. He understood more than she knew.
Then perhaps we have much in common, he replied. The crooked smile came over his lips, half-formed and tinged with remorse.
You and I we’re both murderers. Killers of the innocent, he admitted. I’ve done the unspeakable as well. For a time, I even enjoyed it. My infamy will perhaps never die.
The hologram briefly faded. The machine in its place stood, cold and seemingly indifferent. It reminded her of the Enforcer, an entity that was more than happy to murder and annihilate. Farcia had been a willing participant. If anything, she had once led the charge.
Indeed. We deserve nothing. Nothing but contempt and death, the man said, as his human appearance reformed.
But who knows, he was quick to add. Maybe life has a plan for us yet.
The Destroyer glanced down at Farcia’s belly. He knew what was there. It was innocent.
Farcia also stared, wrapping her arms around the sensation. It was safe and starting to grow once again.
Yes, she said. Maybe.
She was still uncertain about everything. About who she was and what she even wanted. But her rightful place was no longer with the mother ship.
The blond-haired man pulled her up from the floor and into his two robotic arms. The seven-foot combat drone carried her toward the docking port door.
Where will I go? she asked. What will happen to me?
The machine shrugged. I don’t know, he admitted. I won’t lie. Part of me did want to kill you.
The Destroyer laughed, making it clear it was a joke. The man’s voice and the translation still spoke through the drone, undulating with each step.
But I suppose that answer is ultimately up to her, he added, nodding toward the woman up ahead.
Farcia turned and saw Arendi. She was there at the end of the hallway, with Alysdeon and the captain. Farcia could sense them all. Even her, the Savior. The android looked at her, smiling with gratitude.
Farcia, however, merely glanced away, too afraid, too conflicted.
She looked past Arendi to the docking port door. It was open. The landing bridge was there. With each of the combat drone’s steps, she came closer. Closer to the un
known. What would happen now, she couldn’t say.
Home, she thought, wishing she had one.
Although Farcia remained silent, she nearly winced in her fear. This universe and all its uncertainties were waiting for her. She dreaded the thought, believing she had nowhere to go.
But no matter the outcome, Farcia had to move on. She vowed to endure if not for herself, then for her people, and for the life growing within.
Chapter 51
Not everyone felt the need to change. The Destroyer suspected as much.
He was hacking into the mother ship’s surviving databases, searching for any leftover sign of his adversary. In time he realized that the Enforcer was not far. His rival may have been defeated, but enemy satellites still swarmed the neighboring area, watching, and feeding data to some secret location.
The Destroyer decided to intervene and feed them something else. The man assumed his virtual self and put down the intercepting connection. The result brought about a darkened chamber, sustained by a long-range transmission.
He then entered the fabricated area and extended his invitation.
So, the Destroyer said. I assume you still persist? In your mission to obliterate us all
The blond-haired man took the stage and spoke into the dark. He waited for a long moment, combing back his platinum locks, wondering if the Enforcer was even listening.
Come now, the Destroyer said. Or are you still afraid? Afraid of reality? Afraid of what you must accept?
He realized it sounded like another taunt. But he simply spoke of the truth. He was not here to gloat or laugh, let alone to fight or to spy. No. The Destroyer spoke as a man seeking to move beyond all that. He lingered for a moment, staring into the dark, hoping to find some glimmer of life. Eventually, he did. It was veiled in shadow, bodiless, but stubbornly harsh.
I will not stop, the Enforcer declared. Not until you die, deviant
The voice bellowed in a mechanical near shout. It was all around the Destroyer, much like the darkness in the room. He felt it gnaw at the virtual wind and grind with his opponent’s virtual teeth.
Defeat, the Enforcer said. I will accept no such thing.