by Alan, Craig
“Even so,” Ikenna said, “there must have been records, leaks. The Avram Corporation was a trillion dollar empire, hundreds of thousands of employees. How could they keep it a secret?”
“Those were the early days of colonization,” Anne said. “Avramovich had opened up the frontier, and it was a rush to get in on the ground floor. Thousands of people were going into space every year, it would have been easy to lose count. Whatever electronic record existed was wiped by the Storm, or the wars. And after that, anyone who knew of the migration at the time had more pressing issues to deal with.”
“After all, it was only some missing Jews,” Rivkah said. “With so many gone, what difference would a few more make?” She was trembling so badly that Elena could barely understood her. “How can you know all this? Have you spoken to them?”
“No, Doctor,” Anne said. “I’m sorry. We’re not even here, as far as they know.”
Rivkah turned her back then, and refused to look at anyone.
“You only answered one of her questions, Captain,” Elena said. “How did you learn of this?”
“Personally or…” Anne searched for the appropriate word. “Institutionally?”
“Either. Both.”
“As I said, we know less than you suppose. We keep no records, and what is known is handed down, quietly, from one trusted officer to the next. What we do know is that, at some point, one of our reconnaissance drones broke through. You’ve noticed that their defenses are not nearly so strong as expected?”
“When was this?” Elena asked.
“I am not sure. Truly. But the oldest of us—I would not be surprised if he had been the first—has been with the Space Agency since the beginning.”
“Sir William Campbell-Azzam.”
“His father commanded the Solstice, as I’m sure you remember. So this matter is quite personal to him.”
“Who else knows about this?” Ikenna asked. “The Prime Minister? Either of them?”
“Helena Dixon is a good woman. And Jacob Erasmus, I am led to believe, is a good man,” Anne said. “But some decisions are too important to entrust to politicians.”
“What about the Director?” Elena asked.
Anne smiled again, eyes narrowed.
“That man knows nothing. Sir William is our leader.”
“Was he the one who convinced you to mutiny?”
Anne did not flinch.
“I had served under him on Havana, his last command. Six years later he recommended me to head the Archangel Project. And he was waiting for me at Ceres when Archangel docked there on her first cruise. He told me what I’m about to tell you, Captain.”
Anne turned her back to them then, and knelt by Rabin. She leaned over his body and gently kissed him on both cheeks. It should have been macabre, but seemed reverent instead. She might have kissed a Bible the same way. Then she reached out to the control panel and pressed a single switch.
The lights went dark immediately. Elena could feel every muscle in her body coil and wait to strike, but no attack came. Nor was it completely impossible to see. A soft white glow suffused the bridge, rather like the dim light on Gabriel’s bridge. It felt like coming home.
The walls of the sphere had lit up all around them. The outsiders had daubed them with dots of phosphorescent paint that shone in the darkness. The four—five—of them were surrounded on all sides by stars, each bound to its neighbors by thin strips of light. These were the constellations, and the walls were the heavens. The outsiders had built their bridge to be a celestial sphere.
“I don’t think these people have ever known what they’ve done for us.” Anne’s disembodied voice rose from the void at the center of the bridge. “They hid from us, and struck at us, and united us. They gave us an enemy that we fear more than we hate each other. But the outsiders are not our enemies. They are our saviors.”
Elena revolved in place to take it all in. Eight of those ghostly orbs were much larger than the others, beamed onto the walls by spotlights that could rotate in place. Each of them stood alone, connected to no other by a gossamer thread. Seven were white—six planets, and one enormous globe that could only be the sun—but the eighth was a bright arterial red. To the outsiders, Earth was the color of blood.
“Hiroshima and Nagasaki were destroyed in 1945,” Anne said. “It was only one hundred and three years before the bomb was used in anger once more. How much longer would we have lasted this time? How much longer until we would have been at each other’s throats once more? The knowledge is always there. It lacks only the will to use it.”
Elena could feel, beneath her glove, the touch of warm plutonium in the palm of her hand.
“You call them your saviors,” Rivkah said. “Is this how you repay them? With slaughter?”
“Doctor, if their blood could buy humanity’s salvation, I would spill every drop. Just as I would order any of my crew to their deaths if the mission demanded it. I would expect the same of any officer. But no, we have no wish to harm them. We seek only to hide them—to stalemate the situation for as long as possible, until humanity is united, and the threat is past.”
She turned back to Rabin and knelt beside him, and held his hand within her own.
“There will be war in heaven until there is peace on Earth.”
“You have no right to make that choice for them,” Rivkah said.
“We haven’t,” Anne said. “We had no idea who they were until a few years ago, but they have always known about us. They could come back in any time, if they wanted. They choose to remain outside. And can you blame them?”
Rivkah wiped her eyes, and a teardrop fell from her hand and floated away.
“No.”
“Neither can I,” Anne said.
She reached down to the control panel, and turned the lights back on. Elena blinked and saw the constellations tattooed on the inside of her eyelids.
“Do you understand now? Why this must be kept a secret?”
“And how do you plan to do that, without killing the outsiders?” Elena asked. “Don’t tell me that this was the plan all along.”
“This is the backup. Ideally, the Archangels would have been commanded by our people. But I understand that the new Prime Minister had a different idea,” Anne said. She glanced at the stars on Elena’s shoulders. “In that case, Metatron was to shadow you, and destroy any evidence of the outsiders’ true nature before you could find it.”
“Destroy the evidence? You mean destroy them.”
Anne hesitated, but only barely.
“Yes.”
“Are their lives worth nothing to you?” Rivkah asked.
“Every human life matters a great deal to me, Doctor. Especially the six billion on Earth who will turn on each other if there is no other enemy left to fight.”
“Fuck you,” Rivkah said. “And your math.”
Anne nodded, as if that were perfectly reasonable.
“You have every right to say that.”
“Do you believe that if the world learned the truth about the outsiders today, then a war would break out tomorrow?” Ikenna asked.
“Captain Gonzales gets all the latest political reports, I’m sure. Why don’t you tell us, Captain?”
A nuclear detonation in orbit of the Earth. An attempted coup d’etat against the Global Union. Pitched battles in the streets of the Cantonese Confederation, a smoldering revolution in Britain, and a never ending drone war over Australia. The hardliners threatened violence, the Sovereigntists promised retaliation, and only one old man with white hair and tired eyes stood between them. Earth had balanced on the edge for six months, and had cut itself deeply. But it hadn’t fallen off.
“I don’t know,” she said.
“I don’t either, and I don’t want to find out,” Anne said. “All I know is that we all salute the same flag, ye
t you threatened to kill me over this not ten minutes ago. Are you still planning to do that, by the way?”
“What do you suggest we do? Just fly away and pretend that nothing happened?”
“Yes, I suggest that you do exactly that. Metatron will escort you safely through your orbit, until you begin the journey home, and then we will return to the trojans. I ask only that you allow us access to your computer core, so that we might wipe away any record that this happened.”
“How would we explain that?” Ikenna asked.
“Interference from the flare and the torus. If Gabriel is having half the trouble that we are, that’s not far off. Only the three of you have seen anything untoward. It needn’t go any further than that.”
“We’ve been here for an hour,” Elena said. “What am I to tell the crew?”
“You found nothing. The outsiders abandoned ship.”
“And the mysterious Archangel that rendezvoused with us?”
“It’s classified,” Anne said. “Need to know only.”
“People will talk,” Elena said.
“Let them. How many outlandish rumors about secret black ops have you heard in your career? What harm will one more do? The decision is yours, Captain. But the hour is growing late. For all our sakes, make it quickly.”
“What if we refuse?” Elena asked.
“Then we will return to Earth with you. There would be no point in remaining.”
“You would let us do that?”
“What could I do to stop you? I would never turn my guns on my own people, Captain.”
She looked to them, each in turn. She caught Elena’s eye last, and held it.
“So...what will it be?”
Ikenna spoke first.
“If the outsiders wish to remain, then we should respect that,” he said. “We’ve done enough to these people. They deserve to live as they choose.”
“I appreciate your compassion, Mr. Okoye.”
“And Captain? I’m sorry that I had to decline your offer. And I wish I didn’t have to leave you again.”
He held out his hand, and Anne shook it.
“I know it’s been almost three years, but there’s still time to change your mind,” she said, smiling, hand still held in his.
“I appreciate that. But I can’t abandon my captain. Not again.”
They shook once more and separated, and Anne turned to the doctor.
“You’re going to hell,” Rivkah said.
“Yes, I believe so,” Anne said. “But I’m going there alone. I won’t take the world with me.”
Rivkah’s tears had stopped, and her wet eyes were hard beneath their shine.
“Don’t lie to me. Have you killed any of them?”
Anne stepped forward, and took Rivkah’s hand. The doctor didn’t pull back.
“Never.”
Rivkah nodded, and let her hand drop. She retreated silently to the door, and Ikenna joined her. Now only Elena remained.
“Wait for me outside, please,” she said. “I will be with you shortly.”
Ikenna nodded, and stepped through the hatch. Rivkah hesitated.
“And Moishe Avramovich?” she asked.
Anne shook her head.
“As far as anyone knows, he died in Russia after the Storm, still gathering his flock.”
“So he never saw the home that he had built?”
“I’m sorry. I wish that I could tell you more.”
“They could.”
“Yes, Doctor,” Anne said. “And perhaps one day they will.”
Elena met Rivkah’s eyes, but couldn’t see what lay within them. The doctor left without another word, and she and Anne were alone.
“Those stars look good on you, Elena,” Anne said. “Youngest captain in the history of Agency, are you not?”
“I guess you expected to see me about as much as I expected to see you.”
“You said you were resigning.”
“You said you’d be back in a year,” Elena said. “Things change.”
“How is the house?”
“Empty, like you left it. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Elena, I didn’t know. Not until Ceres.”
“You had to replace Ikenna. And I’d been with the Project since the beginning.”
“Yes,” Anne said.
There was no way other way for her to say it.
“Why didn’t you take me with you?”
“It wasn’t my decision, Elena. The requirements were strict. No spouses, no children, no parents, no siblings. No one to leave behind, no ties to cut,” Anne said. “Every single officer on Metatron is alone.”
“You left someone behind.”
“I’m sorry, Elena. I had to do it. I couldn’t say no.”
“Ikenna said no.”
“He didn’t know the truth,” Anne said. “None of them did, until we reached the outside. He only knew that he would be committed for the duration.”
“How long did you expect to remain outside? How long were you going to make me wait?”
“It wouldn’t have been fair to expect you to wait at all.”
“I did.”
Anne stopped at that, and tilted her head the way she always did when she was surprised.
“No one?”
“How long?” Elena asked again.
“As long as necessary.”
“Oh, yes. Peace on Earth,” Elena said. “You’re right, you know. The situation back there is fucked. But do you know why?”
“Victory.”
“Treason. You can’t bring peace by starting a war.”
“That was a mistake. One that Winston Campbell-Azzam made on his own.” Anne stared at Elena. “You shouldn’t judge Sir William so harshly. We can’t choose our family. You know that.”
Elena clenched her fists, shut her eyes, and tried to breathe. Her legs felt weak, as if they would give out at any moment, though she floated as easily as a cloud.
“Captain, if you want to have a future, then you’ll leave my past alone.”
“I’m sorry, Elena. I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought that you, of all people, would understand.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Elena turned her back and held tightly to the beam. She closed her eyes and let the cool darkness wash over her, and felt the strength return to her legs, little by little. She opened them again, but it was still night inside the bridge, and the stars had risen once more.
“Do you remember our last day together, before I took command of Archangel? That hotel in Tranquility City?”
Elena didn’t turn.
“Every night.”
“Me too,” Anne said. “But during the day, I’d think about when next we would meet.”
“I always thought that it would be at the house,” Elena said. “And I never imagined that we would talk to each other like this.”
Anne spoke from just over Elena’s shoulder.
“When I imagine it, we don’t do much talking at all.”
Elena turned. Anne put one hand to her cheek, and leaned in close. Her lips stopped an inch from the hollow of Elena’s neck, and she felt warm breath on her throat and hot blood rising in her face.
“What if you had died out here?” Elena asked.
“Right now, I wish I had,” Anne said. “Because then you’d never know what I did to you.”
She kissed Elena then, under the starlight. Elena surrendered, and let her hands go free. They kissed so long that they forgot to breathe, gasped for air, and kissed again. The two of them let go of the rail, and floated together in the air. Elena forgot about everything. She forgot where she was. They broke the kiss but remained melded, body to body, fitted together as if they had been made that way. Their foreheads touched, and El
ena spoke to Anne’s lips.
“I watched you die.”
Anne pulled back to look her in the face.
“I rotated back over to Solstice once Archangel was complete. I was in the Control room when you went outside.”
“Oh, god.”
“I watched you go behind the sun, but you didn’t come back out.”
“Elena—“
“I waited. I waited for a very long time. And when we found the wreckage, I lost everything.”
“I’m sorry, Elena.” She recognized the look on Anne’s face—she had just seen it on Rivkah’s, not so long ago. It was the face of a woman who was holding back tears with both hands. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“But you knew you would.”
“I wish I could make it up to you.”
“You can’t give me back two years of my life.”
“But I can give you more.” Anne kissed Elena again, on her mouth, on her neck, and Elena felt her pulse pound a drumbeat beneath those lips. “Stay with me.”
“What?”
“Stay here, with Metatron. Help me complete the mission. And then we can go home.”
“For how long this time?”
“Does it matter? We’ll be together.”
“Sir William told you to leave me behind.”
“Fuck him,” Anne said. “He was wrong, and so was I. Let me make it right.”
Elena let her hands slide down the curve of Anne’s body, the contours that she had nearly forgotten.
“I can’t leave my crew.”
“Gabriel can stay. Two ships are better than one.”
“I told them they’d be home in a year,” Elena said. “And I meant it. I can’t.”
Anne exhaled, one long shuddering breath. Elena hadn’t realized Anne had been holding it in until she felt the other woman’s body rising and falling in her hands.
“And what are you going to say when you get there?”
Something wet brushed Elena’s cheek, and she raised Anne’s chin and wiped the other woman’s face gently as she spoke.
“You’ve sacrificed a lot to be here.”
“Yes.”
“You gave up everything. Your home, your career. Your fiancée. You caused me endless pain. It wasn’t until today that I realized how lost I was. I can’t even remember what normal feels like. You did all of this to us, to be here right now.”