by J. N. Chaney
“So she’s fine?” asked Abigail.
Hygeia nodded. “She may exit the containment unit at any time.”
Abigail put a hand on Lex’s shoulder. “Can you walk?”
When she nodded, Abigail helped her out of the pod.
Lex wobbled, just a little, but seemed to be relatively okay.
A sound beeped in my ear, alerting me to an incoming alert from Carl. “Captain Hughes, something in the system has just triggered a shutdown protocol.”
I whirled around to face Hygeia. “What did you do?”
“Only my duty,” she answered, unmoved.
“What the hell does that even mean?!” I barked.
“Thank you for coming here and allowing me to fulfill my purpose,” said Hygeia. Her construct went completely still for a moment as her eyes flickered briefly in a pattern I couldn’t identify. “Objective complete.”
She lifted her face to the ceiling, eyes closed, as though warming her face on an imaginary sun. Her hard light form pulsed once, glowing bright enough that I had to shield my eyes. When I looked again, she was gone, her entire body evaporated.
“Carl, what the hell was that?” I asked.
“Hygeia altered her own decommission protocols,” he explained. “I tried to prevent it, but by the time I detected the sequence, it was too late.”
“She’s gone?” Abigail asked.
“Yes, Miss Pryar. I’m afraid so.”
I absorbed that for a few beats before breaking the silence. “Lex seems okay. That’s all that matters.”
“Agreed,” said Abigail. “I assume she didn’t delete any records when she shut herself down?”
“None, just her personality matrix.”
“Are you saying we just watched her kill herself?” I asked.
“According to her records, it seems her purpose was to create and test a cure for the disease plaguing the Eternals.” He paused. “She had engineered over sixteen thousand of them before this one, though she never had the opportunity to test it until today.”
“Test it?” asked Abigail. “Does that mean she injected something she didn’t fully understand into Lex?”
“Seconds after the medicine’s delivery, a secondary process was initiated to verify the cure’s effectiveness,” explained Carl.
I felt myself breathe a sigh of relief. “Carl, start going through all of Hygeia’s data. Anything that pertains to this so-called cure. Then find the core’s location.”
“Understood. It may take some time,” he admitted.
“I guess you better get started then,” I said.
He didn’t answer, which I took to mean he was doing just that.
“Gods, I’m glad that’s over,” Abigail said. She brushed her hair out of her face and looked down affectionately at Lex. The girl was leaning against her, quieter than I’d seen her in some time.
My gaze sharpened at her slack expression.
“Abby? I don’t feel so good.” The words came out a little slurred as she went limp and slid to the floor.
9
“Hygeia said she cured Lex. Maybe she just gave her some sort of inoculation,” I said.
I was certainly no expert on the gene degradation that the Eternals had gone through. I didn’t even know the full history of it or how’d they even survived such a disease, but it seemed like finding a cure for it had been Hygeia’s entire purpose all these centuries. If that was the case, then perhaps Lex’s body was trying to adapt to it somehow, or maybe she was having a bad reaction.
At Carl’s suggestion, Abigail and I had put Lex back in what Hygeia had called the containment unit. It had immediately sealed itself again, locking the girl back inside much the same way a healing pod did.
“If that were the case, I don’t think we’d have to put her back inside this pod. You know how fast she heals. This isn’t normal,” Abigail said, shaking her head.
I glanced at the holo displays again. On one, a vaguely familiar shape spun in a circle—a DNA helix, if memory served. “Siggy, get Dressler in here. Let’s see if she can figure out what’s going on.”
His gold aura formed next to me, a far cry from his mobile armor, but preferable. At least to me. I found his hard light construct much more comforting. Not that I’d ever admit it.
“Dr. Dressler and Ms. Brie are on their way,” he said. “In the meantime, I will monitor Lex and begin translation of the sequence Hygeia spoke of.”
Carl still wasn’t done with Hygeia’s drives by the time Dressler walked in and joined us, accompanied by Alphonse, Octavia, and Shaw. That turned out to be a good thing. Lex’s room wasn’t small, but with the pod, six people, and one Cognitive taking up space, it began to feel claustrophobic.
I explained what happened, after which Dressler started muttering to herself.
“Why is it taking so long to translate? It can’t be all that different from the other Eternal dialects,” said Shaw.
“I’m afraid it is, Admiral,” replied Sigmond. “From my understanding, the civilization on Novo lasted nearly two millennia. In that time, the dialect had transformed. As it stands, our records do not contain a codex. I can work on deciphering the data as it pertains to Lex. Unfortunately, it will take a little time.”
He joined Dressler in examining the displays.
“What should we do?” I asked, tapping my side.
Dressler’s answer was simple. “Wait. Your expertise has little bearing here, Captain.”
“Hygeia said the sequence was complete,” Abigail said. “That was over an hour ago. If it was finished, why did Lex pass out? Think about it.”
“I’m not following,” said Octavia.
“Hygeia took the time to come and check on Lex. She said ‘objective complete’ and apparently thought it was a success. Enough to erase herself. She must have had full confidence that the cure had worked.”
Dressler’s eyes were transfixed on the holo. “We may have that answer, actually.”
Shaw twisted around to stare at the good doctor. “And?”
“We already know why Novo was colonized in the first place, as well as Hygeia’s sole purpose,” Dressler said, glancing around the group.
Abigail nodded. “To research the gene degradation issue, same as Janus and his facilities.”
“Precisely. The advancements Janus’ people made could be viewed as progress, even despite the final results, though that was more because of small changes to the gene sequence. It’s why they still look like Eternals but only have slightly longer than average life spans and healing abilities. They only managed to reach a compromise before the Boneclaws came about. After that, all of their research stopped and they could no longer continue their work.”
“Dr. Dressler is correct,” Sigmond said. “The scientists were close, but too ambitious.”
I recalled Janus saying something similar during our first meeting. The implications hadn’t been clear then, but I was starting to get the big picture now.
“What about the Celestials? They must have figured it out,” Alphonse pointed out.
Dressler shook her head. “I’m not so sure. Carl will have to verify after his analysis of Hygeia’s drives, but I think the Celestials are just a more enhanced variation of the Boneclaws.” Seeing our confused faces, she tried again. “They didn’t find a cure so much as they discovered how to guide their own evolution, picking and choosing the right DNA to create what they considered the optimal version of themselves.”
“Eternals are not Celestials,” Sigmond explained further. “In the same way that Transients were not Eternals, though all derived from the same origin.”
“I think I understand now,” said Abigail. “We’re all different kinds of human, and at different stages of the evolutionary ladder.”
I cleared my throat. “What does any of that have to do with Lex?”
“You said Hygeia claimed to have found a cure,” said Dressler, more a statement than a question.
“Right, and that crazy Cognit
ive thought she had it, but that can’t be right,” I said. “She’s healthy, last I checked.”
As far as I knew, Lex was fit as could be, having been examined a dozen times since I found her, by just as many doctors. She’d never been sick, not even once, and every injury had healed faster than I’d ever seen.
“Not thought,” Dressler said, fixing her eyes in my direction. “According to this, Lex did have it.”
I blinked, letting the words process as I tried to understand. “What are you saying? That can’t be right.”
“I can appreciate your confusion. I’ve tested her genes on several occasions for this exact reason. However, I’ve never had the data necessary to locate the gene responsible for the illness. She is also still a child and the degradation had not begun. It still hasn’t, in point of fact.” Dressler linked her hands. “Everything I have studied on the subject says it doesn’t happen until after puberty. Once humans reach full maturity, the cellular breakdown begins, though the effects do not manifest for several decades. Over time, the regeneration of cells becomes less effective, resulting in aging and, in some cases, premature death.”
“That still doesn’t explain what happened to Lex when she woke up from this pod,” I pointed out.
“No, but her vitals and scans are all within normal range. I feel confident saying that she’ll wake up soon. Perhaps a few hours, maybe a little longer.”
Some of my tension eased with this new revelation, and I let out a sigh. “Someone needs to stay with her while the rest of us continue with the job.”
“I’ll take first shift,” Abigail said.
“Works for me,” I said, giving her a slight nod. “Dressler, I want you to work directly with Carl on this to see if Hygeia’s Capsule and shell are intact. If we can find them—” I looked around the room at each of my crewmates. “Well, we might just stand a chance at saving Athena.”
“How could you lose access?” I asked.
Hygeia’s suicide had left us with the opportunity we had been waiting for—an intact shell with which to rebuild Athena. As it turned out, though, obtaining the shell had been the easy part. Compiling a new personality matrix would require precision, and even with Carl and Sigmond doing most of the heavy digital lifting, it still wasn’t guaranteed to work. Neither of them had ever assembled a new Cognitive, after all.
I had already prepped a team outside the building in anticipation of receiving the location for the core that Tartarus still needed. Unfortunately, Carl quickly informed me that he didn’t have the required access.
“When Hygeia self-terminated her matrix, the system locked down high security data as a precaution. I can regain access, but it will take a complete reboot of the facility’s primary system and all its associated processes,” he explained.
“What are you waiting for?” asked Rackham, who was right beside me.
“The reboot might affect the pod that Lex is in,” said Carl. “I will be unable to guarantee her safety if it malfunctions or attempts to restart the regeneration sequence.”
I scrubbed both hands on my face to combat the fatigue slowly creeping up on me. “There’s no question then. We won’t put Lex in danger. Not for Athena’s new capsule, and not for the core.”
“Of course, Captain. I will assist Dr. Dressler until Lex is back on her feet.”
“Well I ain’t gonna sit here and twiddle my thumbs like a godsdamn toddler,” I said, turning to Rackham. “Let’s head back to the ship. There’s something I’d like to have a look at.”
With the research facility mostly under control and Hygeia gone, Alphonse, Rackham, and I decided to board a transport back to Tartarus. I wasn’t too keen on returning without Lex and Abigail, but it couldn’t be helped. Moving the containment unit was out of the question.
I still had to deal with our pursuers. Though they hadn’t shown up yet, the Celestial threat still loomed over us and I was tired of looking over my shoulder. With one final drag of the fresh air, I walked up the ramp and let the door close behind me.
It was time to get back to work.
The ride was short to Tartarus. Once we arrived, Bolin greeted us with a wide smile and clapped me on the shoulder. “Welcome back, Captain Hughes. I hear little Lex found some trouble on the ground.”
I grimaced. “That’s one way to put it. The kid can’t seem to avoid it, but she’ll be fine.”
“Oh, I know exactly how you feel, Captain.” He nudged me in the ribs. “It’s only the beginning. My Camilla was the same. I suspect all teenagers are. Don’t worry, though. You’ll live through it. Right, Al?”
Alphonse tilted his head. “Why are you asking me?”
“Didn’t Dr. Dressler say she wanted a few little ones running around?” I said, keeping my eyes forward as we made our way to the Celestial boneyard section of the ship.
“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” said the Constable.
Unless I was mistaken, he sounded a mite panicked, though you’d hardly know it by his general demeanor. Careful to keep my face and tone neutral, I shrugged and turned to Bolin. “You said in the last update that the pilot training program was showing results. How’s it working out?”
Serious again, he nodded. “Better than I expected. There’s some room for improvement, to be sure, but the program Sigmond came up with is teaching our pilots the basics. There’s another session starting soon. You can see for yourself.”
Rackham declined to join us, citing the need to brief Vick during the next transmission. Alphonse, on the other hand, was excited by the prospect of observing our new pilots. The first thing I noticed when we arrived at the boneyard was that it had been cleaned up. In the past few weeks it had seen its share of fighting, both of which had created piles of debris and heavily damaged several of the old ships. To my surprise, nearly all of it had been cleared out, though the area was still just as busy.
“I see you redecorated,” I said.
“Our people work quickly,” said Bolin.
Alphonse scanned the hangar with admiration. “I have to say, if we can get all of these ships online and operational, it will make for an impressive display.”
“Sure will,” I said. “Still, makes you wonder what the Celestials are playing with if this was just their storage facility.”
“If luck is on our side, maybe we won’t have to find out,” Bolin said.
I chuckled. “Don’t count on that.”
If there was one thing we could be sure of it, it was that a war with the Celestials was imminent. We couldn’t run forever, and we also couldn’t reason our way out of this.
“Captain Hughes!” Chelanah waved us over to one of the newly-modified ships.
I gave her a nod in return. “Glad to see you, Chel.”
“Would you like a demonstration?” she asked.
“Sure. Where is this simulator I keep hearing about?” I asked.
Her brow creased in confusion and she looked at Bolin, who was grinning. “I haven’t told him yet,” he said.
“I see. Well then, Captain. You’ll enjoy this.” She gestured at the strike ship behind her. “The ships are the simulator. Sigmond and Carl both helped me create a training mode. Come inside, I’ll show you both.”
The ship differed a little from the first one she’d walked me through. It was a little bigger and had three seats. From what I saw on the outside, it boasted more armaments too. Since space was limited and Bolin had already seen it, he opted to stay outside and observe the training program through a holo display.
“It also allows him to view all active trainees,” Chelanah explained. “He can critique them in real time or just observe and go over the feed afterward.”
“Smart,” Alphonse remarked. “Reminds me of flight school.”
I glanced over at him. “You went to flight school?”
“I've done a lot of things,” he said with an easy smile.
I leered at the Constable, and not for the first time, I wondered what else I didn’t know abou
t the man. No doubt his time with one of the Union’s most elite branches had taken him all over the galaxy. Places I probably didn’t even know existed. People might look at the younger man who hardly spoke and write him off. But I’d seen him in action and I knew how well-trained and experienced Alphonse Malloy happened to be. I would never admit it to him, but I admired the hell out of that bastard.
“Please take your seats and strap in,” Chelanah instructed.
“Even though we aren’t leaving the hangar?” I asked, a little surprised.
“Standard operating procedure,” she explained.
Alphonse and I exchanged bemused looks and took our seats. I chose the co-captain’s chair and he took the third.
When Chelanah was satisfied, she placed her palm on the hand pad. “Activate training mode. Two teams, A and B. Scenario 1-C, hide and seek.”
As soon as she said it, reinforced shielding slid into place, blocking our view of the hangar. The cockpit went dim and the control dash lit up in a flurry of lights. A large holo display came to life, providing a visual of the space scape that was to be our battleground. Twelve points appeared on the holo map, five blue and seven red. Most of the surrounding area was the graveyard of a destroyed planet. Relatively nearby, a small moon remained. Massive chunks of debris, some the size of a Union warship, floated in the void. Far away in the distance, an orange ball broke up the absolute black of deep space. Beyond that lay the system’s star.
The strike ship’s engines purred to life, the rumble growing slightly as it lifted away from the ground. I almost commented when I remembered it was only a simulation. The sounds were on target but the ship didn’t actually move. Only 30 seconds in and I found myself impressed.
“McCabe, you and Team A are hiding,” Chelanah announced over the comms. “B, you know the drill. Five minutes and the simulation begins.”