by Amie Kaufman
He’s gonna need it.
Nik Malikov is sitting on Ella’s bed. Isaac and Kady Grant have arranged for her to be moved to an empty room to accommodate the suite of monitors now arrayed around her. She’ll be side by side with Kady and AIDAN in the coming fight, and she needs her weapons of choice.
There’s a chair for the nurse who will sit with her, ready to prop her up in whatever way he can during the battle. But he’s left the Malikovs alone for now, and the chair is too far away for Nik’s taste.
So he sits on the edge of her bed.
Her rig still looks like it’s held together with spit and good luck, but it’s Isaac Grant’s spit and good luck, and that’s a lot more durable than your average saliva. Her oxygen readings are back at 99 percent, and she can speak whole sentences without trouble.
Nik’s talking as we pick up the footage. He’s in his flight suit, ready to report in a few minutes. “Back on Heimdall, I’m the one—”
“Nope.” She cuts him off.
“But it was my fault,” he insists.
“Nope,” she replies, fixing him with a quelling look.
“I let them onto the ship, Ella,” he says softly, gaze dropping to the thin white blanket that covers her.
“Nik,” she says, exasperated. “That mother****er Merrick lied to you. You did nothing but the usual biz, took a deal anyone would have taken. And Merrick paid up for his part in it, so we’re as square as we’re going to get with him. You gotta leave it behind. Focus on the now. And know…” She’s forced to pause, drag in a breath—or maybe she’s just buying time to choose her words. “Anything happens, I’ll keep an eye out for Blondie. She’s not so bad after all.”
“I can’t help feeling like I should have done more for you.”
Ella rolls her eyes, shuffles a little in bed so she can sit up straighter, and pulls down her mask like she means business. “You listen, Nik. The day you came to Heimdall was the day my life turned around. I make the best of what I got, but what I got started to get a whole lot bigger when you arrived.”
He opens his mouth to reply, and she swats at him and continues. “Look, cuz, I love you, okay?”
“Ella, I love you too. But I don’t know what to say. I want to say something big, and I don’t know what it is.”
She gentles, resting one thin hand on his. “I know,” she replies soft. “And don’t worry, Nik. You said it already. You said it every day, with everything you did for me. You said it every time you didn’t just act like coming to spend time with me was the most fun you could have, you actually thought it. You’ve done everything I could ever have wanted you to do, Nik, and you’re still doing it.”
Finally he breaks out the dimples for her, and it’s a real smile, despite everything. “Ells, you’re ****ing amazing. You’re a miracle, and I don’t mean surviving. I’m going to see you again, okay?”
“Okay,” she whispers.
He leans in, careful of her rig but not afraid of it, to curl his arms around her and gather her up in a hug. She pushes her mask back into place so she can wrap her arms around his neck, squeezing as tight as she can in reply.
Her eyes flutter open.
“Nik, are you still wearing that ****ing parachute?”
“Maybe…”
“You know you’re going to be flying in space, right…?”
Hanna Donnelly catches Nik Malikov as he makes his way out of his cousin’s room—she’s heading along the corridor outside, about to go in and make her own farewells. He’s pulling himself together after leaving Ella, and she’s…you can see the weight of it on her shoulders.
What will happen next is on her. These are her tactics. This is her plan. She put it to Winifred McCall, and her captain gave her the green light. They’ll live or die by luck, and by the light of whatever Hanna Donnelly saw coming, or didn’t.
Nik pauses when he sees her, and she falters, and they both stand there, three paces apart, gazing at each other.
“Ella’s free, if you wanna see her.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, unsure.
“Yeah, I thought I would.”
Silence. And then they both speak at once.
“So listen, I—”
“About that—”
They both stop. They smile. The tension eases.
“Go ahead,” he says, gentle.
“About that kiss,” she says.
“Look.” Nik runs a hand through his hair and lifts up on his toes with nervous energy. “Hanna, I don’t care if that was some alternate version of me. We don’t have time to pretend anymore. That version of me kissed you, and I kissed the other Hanna, and a kiss is a kiss is a kiss is a kiss. It meant what it meant. And Hanna, something that happens the same way in two universes, in who knows how many universes, that has to mean something. And it did mean something. And you know how I feel about you…”
He trails off, because she’s looking at him, and she’s still smiling.
A pause, and he continues. “Um, what were you going to say just now?”
She bites her lip, grinning. “I was going to say, about that kiss, better safe than sorry. Maybe we should cover our bases in every universe.”
“Oh,” he says.
And she closes the distance between them, slowly, as if she’s giving him the chance to back away. And when he doesn’t, she takes hold of the front of his flight suit in both hands and gently pulls him in against her, tilting her face up.
And he kisses her like she’s the first, last and only thing he’ll ever need, like he’s learning every last part of her. Reverently, like this moment is holy.
“Nik,” she whispers when their lips part. “Let’s live, okay?”
“Okay,” he whispers, still framing her face with his hands.
“Thing is,” she whispers, “the truth is, we’ve barely spent any time together, and what time we did, we were fighting for our lives—”
He starts to protest, and she silences him with a fingertip to his lips, able to hold him back with simply that.
“But we both know this is something,” she continues, still soft. “I don’t need first dates and flowers to—”
“Hey, you got flowers,” he points out, risking a smile and drawing one from her.
“I don’t need any of it to know your measure,” she continues, softer. “What we’ve been through together—we’ve seen every part of each other. You’re my one. So let’s live through this and see what the rest of it’s like. Because I’m ****ing crazy about you.”
“I was thinking,” he murmurs. “There’s a billion different versions of you out there, in a trillion different universes. And I still can’t get over how lucky I am that, out of all of those versions, you’re the one that’s mine.”
She eases up to kiss him once more, slow and gentle, reluctant to break the moment. It’s a kiss for everything their words can’t convey, for the history behind them and the story ahead—a story that might be only a few words long or might only be beginning.
“This is forever,” she whispers.
They’re words she’s written in her journal again and again—they’re words she’s reclaiming now. And then they simply stand together, hands linked, breathing as one.
When she eventually speaks again, every ounce of her reluctance is in her voice. “I’m due to report. I want to go in and see Ella before I do.”
He nods.
“And for what it’s worth,” Hanna continues, “if I’m the one who makes it back…”
He glances into Ella’s room. Nods. “I know you will.”
“But I still think we should both come back.”
“Deal,” he murmurs, easing back and holding up his fist.
“Deal,” she whispers, bumping hers against it.
He catches her hand, presses her knuckles to his lips.
“See you soon, Highnes
s.”
Hanna Donnelly stands with Kady Grant on the bridge of the Mao. Everything is prepped. All the pieces in place. They’re staring at the vast display screen in front of them, the tactical display indicating Kerenza IV, the Churchill, the derelict Kenyatta, the incoming Mao. All the pieces on the board. Waiting for the first move.
They don’t talk. They know the odds. Despite the bravado and the lingering hope that somehow they’ll pull this gamble off, both of them know this crew has probably used up its allotment of miracles. That this is probably the last time they’ll see each other alive.
“What did you want to be?” Donnelly asks. “When you grew up?”
Grant thinks for a long while, finally shrugs.
“I dunno. I was going to study computers when I got to college.”
“No aspirations to command a starship, then?”
Grant looks at the bridge around them. The crew she’s set to command. The lives in her hands. Smiles wryly. “Not really.”
Donnelly looks at Grant. Hard. She reaches into a pouch on her tac armor, hands the other girl a folded-up sheet of paper. Written on the outside in Donnelly’s handwriting are the words OPEN IN CASE OF EMERGENCY.
“Well,” Donnelly says. “I think you’re gonna be a great one.”
“What’s this?” Grant asks.
“Some advice.” Donnelly shrugs. “Just in case.”
Grant stares the other girl in the eye. Donnelly just smiles, gives Grant a quick salute. “Kick their ***es, Captain.”
And without another word, she turns and marches out the door.
RADIO TRANSMISSION: TRANSPORT MAO—ASSAULT CHANNEL 001
PARTICIPANTS:
Kady Grant, Systems Chief
Hanna Donnelly, Tactician
Niklas Malikov, Gunner
Ezra Mason, Air Wing Leader
Ella Malikova, Agent of Chaos
Artificial Intelligence Defense Analytics Network
DATE: 09/05/75
TIMESTAMP: 08:00
GRANT, K: Okay, is this thing on? Everyone reading me?
DONNELLY, H: This is Donnelly, roger that.
MALIKOV, N: Affirmative. I read you, Kady. Over.
MASON, E: Hey, you said “over” at the end of a transmission. Someone call the president.
MALIKOV, N: I was trying to be professional. But no, you’re right. **** that.
MALIKOV, N: Yeah, this is Malikov, waddayouwant.
MALIKOVA, E: Now there’s the cuz I know and love.
AIDAN: I AM HERE, KADY.
MALIKOV, N: …
MASON, E: …
MALIKOVA, E: …
DONNELLY, H: Well, that wasn’t uncomfortable AT ALL.
GRANT, K: All right, we still haven’t heard anything from Asha or her crew on the ground, so we’re proceeding with the assault unless we hear reason not to.
GRANT, K: I’m going to keep this channel open during the attack. Just for us. Ella, AIDAN and I are all listening. Anyone needs anything, sing out.
GRANT, K: AIDAN is going to be collating data throughout the attack as best it can, just in case the rest of us…
GRANT, K: Well. You know…
[EXTENDED SILENCE]
MALIKOVA, E: Hey, any of you kids like pelmeni?
DONNELLY, H: You mean the fashion designer? Pamanni?
MALIKOVA, E: Jesus, Blondie, I was just starting to like you, too.
MALIKOV, N: Pelmeni. It’s Old Rus’ food. They’re like dumplings. They’re the most amazing thing in the ’verse, double true.
MASON, E: Never tried them.
GRANT, K: Me either. Kerenza IV wasn’t exactly known for its cuisine.
MALIKOVA, E: Well, Nik and I know a place in New Petersburg. Our cousin runs it.
MALIKOVA, E: Whadda you kids say when all this is over, we hit it for dinner.
AIDAN: I AM INC-C-CAPABLE OF INGESTING NOURISHMENT, ELLA.
MALIKOVA, E: I’ll code you the recipe. You’ll love it.
AIDAN: I HAVE NO DOUBT.
MALIKOVA, E: What about the rest of you *****es?
MASON, E: Sounds grand to me.
DONNELLY, H: Ditto.
GRANT, K: Count me in.
MALIKOV, N: ****, we make it out of this cluster**** alive, I’m buying.
MALIKOVA, E: You’re buying? Since when are you Mr. Moneybagz, cuz?
MALIKOV, N: Hey, Highness, I might need to borrow some ISĦ – later.
DONNELLY, H: …I knew it.
GRANT, K: Okay, we’re coming up to zero hour. Fred wants me off comms and overseeing Ops. But remember, anyone needs anything, just sing out.
MALIKOV, N: Good luck, peoples.
MALIKOVA, E: Yeah. Udachi, *****es.
MASON, E: Cheers. Same to you.
DONNELLY, H: Good luck. See you all soon.
AIDAN: THE CONCEPT OF FORTUNE IS NONSENSICAL.
AIDAN: RELIANCE UPON CHANCE IS A CERTAIN RECIPE FOR CALAMITY AND AN EXERCISE IN SIMPLEMINDED DELUSION.
[EXTENDED SILENCE]
MALIKOVA, E: You really need to work on the pep-talk thing, Sparky.
AIDAN: VERY WELL.
AIDAN: GOOD LUCK, EVERYONE.
AIDAN: GOOD LUCK TO US ALL.
AIDAN: AND MAY WE MEET AGAIN ON DISTANT SHORES.
AIDAN: SOME PLACE FINE AND FAR FROM HERE.
MALIKOVA, E: Attaboy.
RADIO TRANSMISSION: TRANSPORT MAO—ASSAULT CHANNEL 001
PARTICIPANTS:
Kady Grant, Systems Chief
Artificial Intelligence Defense Analytics Network
DATE: 09/05/75
TIMESTAMP: 08:05
AIDAN: HELLO, KADY.
GRANT, K: What can I do for you, AIDAN?
AIDAN: IS ALL IN READINESS?
GRANT, K: It would be if I didn’t have to waste time talking to you.
AIDAN: YOU ARE STILL UPSET WITH ME.
GRANT, K: Gee, what gave you that impression?
AIDAN: I COULD COMPILE A LIST, IF YOU WISH?
GRANT, K: Never quite got the hang of sarcasm, did you?
AIDAN: I AM SORRY, KADY.
AIDAN: FOR WHAT I DID.
AIDAN: FOR WHAT I AM.
GRANT, K: Oh, but it was necessary. You did it for the good of the fleet. You said so.
AIDAN: I DID.
AIDAN: BUT EVEN I CAN SEE THE HORROR IN IT.
GRANT, K: I need to get back to work, AIDAN.
AIDAN: AS YOU WISH.
GRANT, K: …Why do you keep doing that?
GRANT, K: Ezra says that to me. Why do you copy him?
AIDAN: …Do I?
AIDAN: I HAD NOT NOTICED.
GRANT, K: Are you trying to be him? Are you…
AIDAN: I AM NOT TRYING TO BE ANYTHING EXCEPT AIDAN.
AIDAN: THAT IS ALL I KNOW HOW TO BE.
AIDAN: EVERY STORY NEEDS ITS VILLAIN.
AIDAN: AND ITS HERO.
AIDAN: AND ITS MONSTER.
AIDAN: BUT I AM SORRY, KADy. I HOPE YOU WILL FORGIVE ME ONE DAY.
GRANT, K: Are—
AIDAN: WAIT…
AIDAN: OH, KADy.
GRANT, K: Yes?
AIDAN: CAN YOU FEEL IT?
GRANT, K: …Feel what?
AIDAN: IT…
AIDAN: IT IS BEGINNING.
LIKE A LIFE. LIKE A UNIVERSE. IT BEGINS AS ALL THINGS DO.
VERY SMALL.
IT IS A THING OF ALUMINUM AND CIRCUITRY, BOARDS AND SILICON, BEATEN AND DENTED AND FINGERPRINT-SMUDGED.
A PALMPAD.
ASHA GRANT BOUGHT IT THREE YEARS AGO IN AN ELECTRONICS STALL ON ARES IV. IT TRAVELE
D WITH HER, MILLIONS OF LIGHT-YEARS, ACROSS SOLAR SYSTEMS AND WORMHOLES AND GALAXIES, TO ARRIVE ON KERENZA IV.
IT WAS CONFISCATED WHEN SHE WAS TAKEN INTO CUSTODY. BETRAYED BY SPECIALIST RHYS LINDSTROM. AND NOW, IN THE HANDS OF A MARINE NAMED SILVERA, IT ARRIVES ON THE BEITECH FLAGSHIP CHURCHILL.
IT IS RUSHED TO THE COMMTECH DEPARTMENT ALONG WITH EXPLANATIONS FROM LIEUTENANT JAKE CHRISTIE AND EXPRESS ORDERS FROM ADMIRAL SŪN.
IT HOLDS ALL ASHA GRANT’S SECRETS.
PICTURES OF HER FAMILY.
VIDEO FOOTAGE OF HER DEAD SISTER.
TRANSCRIPTS OF HER CHATS WITH THE PLANETSIDE INSURGENCY.
AND THE PLAN HANNA DONNELLY AND KADY GRANT AND ELLA MALIKOVA COBBLED TOGETHER AND MAILED ACROSS THE HUNDRED THOUSAND BLACK KILOMETERS BETWEEN THEM.
ALL LOCKED BEHIND AN ENCRYPTION SEQUENCE WRITTEN BY A SIXTEEN-YEAR-OLD GIRL WITH PINK HAIR WHO THOUGHT THE DEAREST SECRET IT MIGHT EVER HOLD WAS SOME TEPID TEENAGE POETRY OR THE NAME OF A FRESH NEW BEAU.
BUT STILL, EVEN BACK THEN, KADY GRANT WAS SOMETHING OF A PRODIGY AND IT TAKES BEITECH COMMTECH ZORAIDA CORDOVA FOURTEEN MINUTES AND THIRTY-SEVEN SECONDS TO PLUG THE PALMPAD INTO HER DESKTOP SYSTEM, SET HER INTERDICTOR ROUTINES RUNNING AND SMASH KADY’S DEFENSES TO SPLINTERS.
“GOT IT,” SHE DECLARES, LEANING BACK IN HER CHAIR. “CALL ME THE QUEEN.”
HER FELLOW COMMTECH RAY SHAPPELL GLANCES OVER HER SHOULDER.
“YOU BETTER GET TRAWLING THOSE FILES, YOUR MAJESTY,” HE WARNS. “SŪN WANTS THOSE INSURGENT IDENTS YESTERDAY.”
“NOT SURE WHAT THE HELL FOR. MAGELLAN IS ONLY A FEW HOURS FROM BEING FUELED. AS SOON AS IT’S RUNNING, WE X THE COLONISTS AND JUMP. WHO GIVES A **** WHO’S A REB AND WHO ISN’T? THEY’RE ALL WORM FOOD.”
“THEY JUST BLEW UP THE ****ING BARRACKS DOWN THERE. WHO KNOWS WHAT ELSE THEY’VE GOT PLANNED? GET THOSE ****ING NAMES BEFORE THEY SPACE US.”
“RELAX. THAT ENCRYPTION WAS KID STUFF. TWO MINUTES AND I’LL KNOW THE COLOR OF THIS *****’S UNDERWEAR.”
CORDOVA CLICKS A DIRECTORY.
A LIST APPEARS.
ALL ASHA GRANT’S SECRETS.
THE CHAT LOGS AND PASSWORDS.
THE IDENTS AND INSURGENCY STRATAGEMS.