Kelm and Gavin sat down beside the basin across from each other. The whistle of the wind outside rose as the storm picked up. Gavin checked the extractor again to see if he could connect to the Maven, but as before there was nothing. The storm was probably too close anyway, even if the ship had been in range.
Gavin moved his gloved hand so that the smallest sliver of yellow flickered to life, pushing back the darkness. Kelm failed to notice the tiny light. His slumped shoulders and the look of resignation on his face mirrored the same hopelessness Gavin was fighting against.
“Kelm, what if I told you that I could help you recover some of your memories?” Gavin asked, sensing that this was at the heart of his despair.
Kelm’s eyes flashed feebly in the light from the cutter. “What do you mean?”
Gavin paused, suddenly unsure of whether or not he should go on. Kelm had saved him, but he was still a stranger and Gavin had no indication of what his motives or intentions might be. But curiosity about Kelm’s identity overcame his reservations. He decided to take the risk.
“I have a device which allows me to see into the past,” he explained. “It’s called the chronotrace.”
“The chronotrace…” Kelm repeated the word reverently, as if the mere utterance of it had the power to bring back his past. He pressed close to the edge of the puddle and leaned further into the light. “I would do anything to get my memory back.” Though his words were respectful, there was something desperate in his tone that caused Gavin to wonder once again just how safe this man really was.
“I won’t be able to show you everything. But we can look for important things, and maybe those might jar other memories loose.”
Kelm’s face sprang to life. “You would do that? For me?”
“You saved my life, Kelm. I think I owe you at least that much.”
“Yes, yes, that’s true. I hadn’t thought of that—so when do we start? I’m not really that tired, you know. And your machine will be safe inside this cave, protected from the storm.”
“Oh, I don’t have it with me, Kelm,” Gavin said. “It’s back on the ship. We won’t be able to use it until we get back there.”
Kelm’s hand darted across the puddle, grabbing Gavin’s leg. “I don’t want to wait for the ship. I want my mind back now.” He had a gleam in his eye, like a man dying from hunger who had just been told there was no food left.
“I’ll call the ship after the storm. They can’t be far. Don’t worry, we’ll get your memories back, I promise.”
Kelm did not let go.
“What if you can’t reach them? What if the storm doesn’t end? What if it blasts this cave into oblivion, or fills it with sand?” Kelm’s eyes throbbed with urgency.
Gavin now regretted saying anything to Kelm. “There’s nothing I can do about it right now, Kelm, I—”
“But you said you owed me.” Kelm looked more and more delirious by the moment. His grip was fantastically strong. His fingers, whether consciously or unconsciously, started to dig into Gavin’s leg. Kelm’s entire aspect transformed into that of someone trapped in a corner, ready to fight for his life.
“Calm down, Kelm,” Gavin said in as even a voice as he could manage. “I told you I would help you. Don’t you trust me?”
“Trust? Why should I trust anyone? You might drug me too for all I know, lock me up in another cell and take away all my secrets. Maybe I shouldn’t have saved you. To be honest I thought you were dead at first and I thought—well, I thought that I would—and then a voice told me no, I’d better not. And then I thought maybe you would help me. And then you even promised to, and now—now I find out that you lied to me. Just like everyone else. They’re all liars. Schemers. Never telling the truth!”
Kelm had worked himself up into just short of a frenzy. His lips were covered in spittle and his skin stretched tight across his face. Gavin knew that Kelm’s anger had nothing to do with him; he doubted Kelm’s mind was even fully present. He was lashing out and Gavin just happened to be there, but that didn’t change the fact that Gavin was still in danger. He rubbed his fingers together, ready to activate his neutralizer gloves the moment Kelm sprung on him.
“Kelm, I’m not trying to mislead you. I promise—”
“Words! Words! Empty air is all it is!” Kelm screamed. Gavin pulled back in fear and yanked Kelm forward. The maneuver forced Kelm to release his leg or risk falling into the puddle.
Kelm’s eyes fell upon the murky water and he caught his maniacal reflection staring back at him. He looked shocked and afraid of what he saw. The vision seemed to blunt his rage. After a moment, his aspect began to change.
Kelm shrunk back across the puddle, returning to his usual vulnerable, confused state.
“I will help you get your memories back,” Gavin said, massaging his leg where Kelm had been gripping it.
Kelm nodded tentatively and kept staring at the water. “Ah, why bother?” He appeared to be on the verge of tears. “The device probably won’t work anyway. It probably isn’t even real.”
Gavin held his tongue, hoping that Kelm would drop his obsession with the chronotrace of his own accord.
Kelm withdrew from the edge of the pool. He seemed to wither and shrink as he did so. He curled up in a ball on the other side of the puddle. “I should have known better. I knew it wasn’t safe to trust anyone…” he mumbled sleepily.
Gavin eased away from the water and stretched out on the floor a comfortable distance from the unpredictable man.
“Never trust anyone,” Kelm said to himself. “Not even yourself…” The listless look in his eyes told Gavin he had given up on finding his memories. “No hope,” he whispered under his breath. “No hope.”
Kelm closed his eyes, nuzzling his head into his elbow. He let out a weak sigh. Within moments his breathing grew heavy and took on a steady rhythm. Gavin continued to eye him for some time, trying to get a glimpse of his thoughts, but Kelm’s mind remained as turbulent as the storm raging outside the cave. Gavin could make no sense of the dizzying, dancing patterns he saw flitting by. Eventually he gave up trying and drifted off as well, falling into a guarded and fitful sleep.
Kelm was relatively docile during the following day. After their second day together, Gavin convinced him that they needed to abandon the cave if they were to have any hope of making contact with the Maven.
They wandered in and out of storms, across cracked plains, rocky hills, and endless dunes until Gavin did not think they could go one day more. Unlike Gavin, Kelm had no bioseine to compensate for the lack of food and harsh conditions, yet he endured every hardship, stubbornly clinging to life despite his obvious hopelessness and shattered mind. Perhaps it was that very brokenness which allowed him to keep going when a sane man might have given up.
It was near dark when Gavin finally felt a tingling at the base of his neck which told him his extractor had an alert for him.
The Maven is within range, the device informed him. Would you like me to connect to its audio relay?
“Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes,” Gavin rapidly assented. Exhausted as he was, his mind became instantly alert.
“Kelm,” Gavin whispered hoarsely, barely able to make his voice heard over the pestering winds. “Kelm, I found my friends. We’re going to make it.”
Kelm received the news with no visible display of emotion.
Gavin collapsed on the ground and waited for the Maven’s reply.
Halerin was the first person Gavin saw when he and Kelm floated up into the cargo bay, carried inside by the Maven’s axom field generators. Halerin wore a look of joy even if Gavin was too far gone to respond in kind. Beyond him, the bay bustled with activity as a dozen mechanics worked to repair a handful of ships. In addition to the repairs, several ships looked to be of brand new construction. They were vapors, which had previously not been a part of the Sentient fleet. Gavin nodded in satisfaction. Halerin and the Sentients had not been idle while he was gone.
Halerin placed his hand
upon Gavin’s shoulder in the customary Wayman greeting. Gavin returned the gesture with as much enthusiasm as his broken body could manage. Kelm stared blankly around at the open bay, oblivious to Halerin’s presence.
“You made it back,” Halerin said.
“Yes, thanks to you. You kept looking. You didn’t give up. I won’t forget that,” Gavin said, his voice cracking.
“It wasn’t easy. We couldn’t scan the area around Hull for fear of getting into another fight with the Persepolis.”
“Another fight? What do you mean?” Gavin asked.
“They came after the Maven. They hit us as we were boarding the last of the prisoners. It was horrible, Gavin. We had to leave some of them behind. In all that terrible battle, that was the hardest thing I had to do.”
Gavin saw the tortured memory play out behind Halerin’s eyes, the dozens of people left reaching towards the sky as the ship took off, some of them holding children in their arms. The distance soon erased their horrified expressions from view, but they were forever stamped in Halerin’s mind.
“They came after us with lancers outfitted with cross stream weapons,” Halerin went on, “We barely escaped alive.”
“How did you make it?” Gavin resumed his grip on Halerin’s shoulder, both to keep himself upright and because this news hit him hard as well. His sense of relief at seeing Halerin quickly evaporated.
“The chronotrace saved us. One of the energy mesh technicians used it to unlock the code for the Collective’s ship to ship channels. We were able to jam their communications. After we did that, they were forced to abandon the attack.”
“Brilliant,” Gavin said, forcing a smile.
“I guess that’s one of the reasons we call ourselves Sentients,” Halerin said.
As they spoke, Kelm wandered in the direction of the wide bay doors. The ship’s mechanics gave him puzzled looks. When Gavin realized what was happening, he followed after him, trying to reach him before he touched something he shouldn’t or interrupted the repairs.
“Halerin, this is Kelm, the man who rescued me,” Gavin said, spinning a confused Kelm around to face Halerin.
Kelm stared in Halerin’s direction for a moment before turning away and mumbling something about looking for his quarters.
“We’ll find you a place, Kelm. We’re glad to have you on board,” Halerin said.
Kelm ignored him, fixing his attention on Gavin instead.
“When can we use your machine, that chrono device you told me about?” he asked, his beady eyes unblinking.
“Soon, Kelm, soon,” Gavin promised.
Kelm regarded him with rapt attention, smacking his lips together as if anticipating a hearty meal. “Wonderful. Just lead the way.”
Despite Gavin’s promise, he was unable to help Kelm recover his memories right away. There was too much to be done aboard the Maven.
In the engagement with the Persepolis, the Collective forces had damaged the celerium power core. The Persepolis had targeted the Maven’s energy systems specifically. Just like Raif had said, the praxis cruisers were not invulnerable. Halerin had attempted to disable the Persepolis in the same manner, but the Collective fleet was much larger. They whittled down the Maven’s shields before the Sentient forces could do any significant damage.
The crippling of the core had forced them to operate on bismine reserves. The crew of the Maven had been working day and night to repair the damage, but the energy mesh which powered the ship was still extremely weak. Before the battle they had been using celerium to power the chronotrace, but that was no longer possible. Worse, with the reserves dangerously low, they had sent out groups to mine the desert for fresh bismine, but that had proven problematic as well. Quakes continued to wreak havoc across the desert, interrupting several of the mining expeditions. One of the tremors had been so strong two Sentients had actually been killed. And the quakes were only getting worse, increasing both in intensity and frequency.
“It’s too dangerous to travel on the surface now,” Halerin told Gavin as they sat in a small, circular meeting room just off the Command Center.
As Halerin described the quakes, memories of Gavin’s escape from Manx Core came rushing back. The ceiling and walls of that place had started coming apart, followed by the glowing blue streams of neophosphorous, which poured down like blood gushing from a massive wound. He could almost taste the metallic floes again as he recalled the sludge pouring over him and pulling him under. He had never imagined something like that ran through the Viscera. Nor did it seem possible that such a cataclysm could still be raging beneath the surface of the Vast.
“The quakes from Manx Core started days ago,” Gavin remarked. “How can they possibly still be going on?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense. And they’re spreading. We’re more than a hundred clicks out from Oasis and they’ve already made it this far. We’re safe because we’re in the air, but the power requirements to keep us aloft are enormous. We’re running through bismine faster than we can recharge it.”
“How long before the celerium is fully functional again?”
“That’s hard to say,” Halerin replied. “The technicians are baffled by what is going on with the core. Conventional diagnostic tools are useless. The only thing they’ve been able to determine is that it’s somehow repairing itself, similar to the way the velar hull did, but we have no idea how long that will take.”
“But if it’s repairing itself, shouldn’t we be able to transfer some of the power needs back onto the core?”
“That’s another odd thing. Every time we’ve tried to connect it back into the energy mesh it ceases working altogether. It looks like the only thing we can do is wait until the core is fully repaired before reconnecting it.”
“This ship won’t stay airborne forever,” Gavin reminded him. “Not to mention the fact that without the core, we’re limited in the kinds of sequences we can run with the chronotrace. We need to find out what Cyrith is thinking and planning. And we need to find out where they’re holding Adan and the others.”
Halerin’s mind buckled under the weight of so many unknowns. The responsibilities of leading the Sentients had taken their toll on him.
“There’s something else that’s troubling you besides getting back the core and finding Adan, isn’t there?” Gavin probed.
“I was just thinking about all the Werin we rescued. They’ve been asking ever since they got here when we would take them to their families. I was so busy trying to find you and so focused on repairing the ship that I put it off. But I’ve been having nightmares about them ever since we lost the two Sentients to the quake. What about all the people living in the Viscera? We can’t just leave them down there.”
“You’re right. They’re not safe,” Gavin agreed. “Finding them and getting them on board needs to be our top priority, even if it means ignoring the Collective for a little while. We can’t wait until the core is functional.”
“This is all my fault. I should have gone after them earlier,” Halerin remarked, his eyes staring hollowly into space. “It’s just…I thought if we could find you first, you would know what to do.”
“I left you in command and you did what you thought was best. I blame myself more than anything.”
A somber air descended upon the room. The weight of regret worked on Gavin, draining his will. His efforts to save Oasis had failed, and now the same thing had happened with his attempt to rescue Adan. Both had failed miserably, each time ending up worse than if he had done nothing at all.
As helpless as he felt, Halerin felt worse. He had been forced to abandon Gavin and then abandon the Werin as well. Gavin did not blame him for anything. Halerin had done a tremendous job under the circumstances, but Gavin sensed his friend was weary of bearing all these responsibilities on his own. It was time for his burdens to be lifted. It was time for Gavin to take back command of the ship.
“We may be down, but we are not helpless,” Gavin declared. “Hal
erin, head to the Command Center and get ready to set a new course.”
“Where to?” Halerin answered, roused temporarily from his doldrums.
“I’ll tell you after you get there.” Gavin arose and left the meeting room. “First, I have to visit an old friend.”
Twenty-Seven
A Forgotten Friendship
Senya sat across from Gavin as motionless as the bare metal table jutting out from the wall between them.
He gave her a smile. He hoped it did not seem too forced. She returned it with one of her own, an expansive expression which lit up her caring eyes. For all his supposed perceptivity as a memorant, her actual thoughts eluded him. Even so, common sense told him that the little quivers at the corners of her mouth meant that she, too, felt the awkwardness of the moment.
Though her skin showed lines of worry and her straight brown hair hung simply at her shoulders, there was an understated beauty about her.
He hurriedly shifted his gaze to her folded hands upon the table and took a deep breath, still wondering how to begin.
Though Gavin had known Senya for more than a year, even living with her family during a portion of that time, those memories had been erased by the Developers when he went back to Oasis. Nothing from his time with the Welkin remained except for a few second-hand accounts he had received from Adan. He knew that she had three children, two boys and a little girl. Her husband had died several years before Gavin arrived. Everything else was lost.
He opened his mouth to speak, but the words hung in his throat. What to say to a stranger who is supposed to be a friend? Gavin did not feel equal to the task, especially with the news he was about to give her. He lifted his eyes to meet hers. From what Adan had told him, Senya was courageous, strong, and resilient, and the clarity in her gaze confirmed that, but still the words did not come.
The Chronotrace Sequence- The Complete Box Set Page 90