by Far Freedom
“I need a witness or a companion for this experiment,” Khalanov said. “How brave do you feel today?”
“You insult my warrior ancestors with that question,” Wingren replied. “But not me. I’ll only say that I won’t disappoint you, as long as you are with me.”
“If we survive this, would you consider having dinner with me?”
“Only if you let me cook.” Wingren felt braver than she ever thought possible. An admiral asked her for a date! A handsome Earthian admiral. A man she liked very much. She strained to contain her excitement. When he activated the cryptikon, those thoughts and feelings fled, replaced by a different kind of excitement.
Khalanov indicated the light and dark patterns that contained the wells of distant reality, glimpses across unknown spans of the universe. “This is the telephone book, to borrow an ancient but useful concept. The patterns are stacked, like pages in an infinitely thick telephone book. We’re presented with a small selection of possible contacts based on some criteria I can’t guess. I can sense that a large percentage of connections are possible but there must be factors that disqualify me from opening every connection. I’ve found only five connections I can make.”
“Most of the images seem static and rather abstract,” Wingren said, “even though they have a disturbingly vital presence. A few have movement and I can guess they are produced by the cryptikons we know about. The former class of telephone book entries are those you can’t access.”
“Exactly. Except for one. When any of the cryptikons activate, that one static image is always displayed on the first page of the telephone book. I receive an impression of distance when I touch the image wells. I can tell the Essiin Museum cryptikon is much farther away than the other cryptikons on the ship. Most of those which don’t allow connection are much farther away than the museum. I haven’t sampled very many of the telephone book entries, but the one we are going to investigate is truly far away. Disturbingly distant.”
Khalanov selected the image of the endless corridors, which he first encountered when demonstrating the cryptikon to the entire crew. He manipulated the controls. The lines and angles filled the engineering bay, starkly real for all their lack of features.
“It looks like passageways,” Wingren said, “but there’s no scale to judge the size, no details to even determine which way is up.”
“Let me position myself into the image. Perhaps that will yield another perspective.”
“Not without me, sir!”
She grabbed his hand. They stepped into the image together. To steady themselves in the strange new environment, they put their arms around each other’s waist. The lines of light and planes of pale color converged at infinity in all directions. The admiral reached with his free hand to try to touch some part of the image. His finger contacted a surface and the image exploded in a flash of light.
Darkness covered them for several moments, then distant patches of light appeared. They stood on something solid but couldn’t see what it was. The image of deep space completely surrounded them. They hugged each other but still swayed from lack of visual clues to their orientation. Finally they achieved a sense of balance, almost as if something gently held them in place.
“Galaxies,” Wingren said. “Clusters of galaxies, rivers of galaxies!”
“We’ve lost contact with the Freedom. This has not happened before. There was always a way to turn around and go back to the cryptikon.”
“Someone is showing this to us. Hello? Can anyone understand me? Is anyone listening? Let us see you.” A dim red star appeared at planetary distance below their feet. It provided just enough light to illuminate something that floated before the backdrop of the galaxies. “It must be a starship. But where is the cryptikon that provides us this image?”
“Is this your ship?” Khalanov asked the presumed entity. The image immediately made the double-sphered object rush toward them. They orbited the starship - or the starship orbited them - so they could view every part of its exterior. They could see no details or irregularities on its surface. It was a perfect geometric shape, as though modeled by computer in a holographic display. “There are no markings. How can we learn anything useful?”
The image shifted, giving them fresh vertigo, flying them down to the surface of the artifact then sinking them into its skin. They saw only gray as they moved through solid material. They emerged into a human-sized volume of living space. Bricks appeared beneath their feet. Wood paneling covered the walls close to them. Light fixtures of primitive design affixed to a white textured ceiling provided illumination. A wooden table appeared in the middle of the room. Khalanov and Wingren walked carefully to the table. They inspected the table closely and touched it.
“It looks ancient,” Wingren said. “It doesn’t have fused joints and the cuts are imperfect.”
“It was made by hand,” Khalanov said, “using traditional carpentry tools. A human could have built this table.”
A rectangular object with a glass face and wood frame appeared on the table. It displayed a two-dimensional raster image of a globe. The globe rotated slowly while details began to appear on its surface.
“This must be a planet,” Khalanov said. “And it’s beginning to look like Earth!”
“It is!” Wingren agreed. “Europe, Africa, North and South America, Australia, Asia. There can be no doubt, despite the poor resolution.”
“What do you want with us?” Khalanov asked. “You know who we are. Who are you?”
The room disappeared as if it never existed. They stood in a light fog on a black surface that could be their own deck on the Freedom. A small patch of color floated toward them through the mist, resolving quickly into the image of a cryptikon. The fog transformed into the maze of infinite corridors. The engineering bay of the Freedom appeared before them.
“That was disturbing,” Khalanov said.
“It was an omen,” Wingren said. “It knows who we are. Maybe it also knows where we are.”
Section 037 Lost and Found
“That was a sad song,” Aylis remarked. “You look like you could use a hug.”
“I can’t sing happy songs yet.” Aylis hugged Zakiya and both sat down in the front row of the theater. Musicians put away instruments on stage. They waved goodbyes with caring expressions as they left the rehearsal. Aylis looked terrible to Zakiya. Somehow she managed to survive the trauma of retiring Setek. Someday soon Zakiya needed to explain to Alex and Koji what really happened to Setek. Aylis had lied to them. So far they seemed to accept that Setek suffered an unexpected organ failure and would be in regenerative stasis for a period of time. “I’m glad you could come hear me rehearse.”
“I didn’t realize we had so many fine musicians on the ship. I didn’t see Direk.”
“The concert was his idea. I’m only singing a few songs. It’s mostly instrumental. Direk will be in some of the ensemble pieces.”
“Is the work on the jumpship continuing? I’m almost hoping you can’t get it operational. It seems such a hopeless mission, with a fatal consequence for failure.”
“There doesn’t seem to be much else we can do. Right now it’s just another activity - like staging a concert - to keep the crew busy. I don’t know what we’ll do when the barbarian jumpship is fixed. I don’t know what we’ll do when all the cannons are manufactured and installed. The future frightens me. What have you been doing, Aylis? I know you can’t let yourself do nothing.”
“Tending to tasks no one else wanted to do. I autopsied the barbarians.”
“Find anything interesting?”
” Some mutations. It will take years and a much greater sample, but I suspect they’re victims of a slightly negative genetic change. They have a shortened natural life expectancy, which would be inconsequential with modern health care. I can also verify that two of them are only a few generations removed from Earth. The third one has ancestors that I can only assume came from the prehistoric diaspora, perhaps neither Rhyan nor Essiin.”
“Nothing to explain their violent behavior?”
“Unfortunately, the potential for violent behavior is probably a trait required for survival of a species.”
“And we will condemn Alex and Koji for a very fine point we put on the application of violence.” They sat in silence for a few moments. Zakiya tried not to think about anything important. So many years had passed in her life. How many ordinary days vanished into oblivion, too uneventful to be retained in memory? She felt old.
“Would it upset you if I told you some things you didn’t know about Sammy?” Aylis asked with concern.
“You also did his autopsy? I don’t think I want to know about it.”
“I didn’t do an autopsy, just a scan. I’ve held back some information about Sammy from before he died. I thought it was in error and would only distract you. But I see no error. The scan confirmed it and yielded another surprise.”
“This is something you need to tell me, Aylis? I think I can take it, but if I can’t, I don’t want to pull you down with me.”
“What are a few more tears for me? I seem to have an endless supply. You would want to know these things about Sammy, Zak.”
“Tell me, then.”
“As you know, genetic analysis inferred that Sammy was either born to parents who didn’t live in the present era, or he was engineered to be unrelated to anyone presently living in the Union. Of course, now we realize he might be related to someone in barbarian space. But I don’t think so. The evidence is too clear that his genetic code doesn’t exhibit the slight drift present in contemporary genetic codes. Since time travel isn’t possible, I assume Sammy’s parents lived in the distant past. He was either produced from ancient samples of DNA, or he arrived in the present by some means of storage. Isotope dating confirms that he was born several hundred years ago.”
“The poor child. The poor, poor child!”
“Why do you say that?”
“I just imagine the worst kinds of things happening to him! I think he must have been raised from an infant by someone who really cared for him, because his basic nature was so good. But then something bad happened. Mai was never able to find the cause of his amnesia, and that, in itself, was a tragic wound. And we know he spent months alone in Africa. Why? It just doesn’t make sense! It continues to anger me!”
“The golden alien you saw - the female named Constant - she seemed to care about him, and the other one didn’t. They knew who Sammy was and they must have been factors in his life. If only we had been able to save Petros! He would have known so many things that would have helped us. And Sammy.”
“What is also troubling, is that Sammy had a mother and a father. I can’t imagine how they lost their son, but they did. I know how they must have felt. If there is any chance that the voice of Milly belongs to a real person, I want to meet her. She must be Sammy’s mother. She must also be in trouble. If only I could help her.” She sighed.
“One other thing, and I’ll let you be. During the scan I found this in Sammy.” Aylis held forth a transparent bag containing a tiny red object. Zakiya looked at it with immediate recognition.
“It’s a gem from Shorty!”
“It’s a molecular machine. Purpose unknown.”
“It knows me!”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ve felt its presence since you arrived at rehearsal, Aylis. I didn’t know what it was. Let me have it!”
“It could be dangerous!”
“I don’t think so.” Zakiya took the plastic bag, opened it. She held the tiny red translucent object in her fingers. It stuck to one of her fingers. She could feel a sensation in the nerves of her finger but it was weak. She placed the red bead on the palm of her hand and it transferred itself and attached to her palm. In a moment the nerves up to her elbow began to tingle but it still seemed too weak. Finally she placed her palm on the back of her neck and waited for another reattachment. She felt a tiny shock at the base of her skull. It began to communicate with no words but only urges that seemed familiar. It wanted to go home. She closed her eyes. “Follow me.” Zakiya stood up and started walking.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for Shorty.”
“The Gatekeeper? The thing that lured Sammy into the space elevator? The thing I saw with Pan’s android on Earth?”
“That’s the one. The one that rescued me from Oz.”
“Shouldn’t we have noticed its presence on the ship?”
“That and other questions need answers!”
“What other questions?”
“How did it get here? Why is it here? Can it open gates to places we may need to visit?”
“I’m not sure I want to know any of those answers. What is this thing doing to you?”
“It’s making me feel strong emotions.”
“Emotions?”
“I don’t think it can help it.”
“How? It’s just a tiny machine.”
“It’s part of Shorty. It needs to return to Shorty. It isn’t being very helpful. I’d say it’s confused and frightened. It should be pointing me in the right direction.”
They walked.
Iggy and Wingren appeared by transmat a few meters away from Zakiya and Aylis. Iggy immediately noticed that Zakiya was agitated and distracted. He turned a questioning look to Aylis. “What’s wrong with Zak?”
“If you need to speak to her, now is a bad time, Iggy.”
“But now is the only time! We have a possible situation. We saw something with a cryptikon that may be very important.”
“Tell me what has happened,” Zakiya said, continuing to walk, apparently fighting some inner distraction. Iggy let Wingren describe their encounter with the distant alien starship. “Put the ship on alert!” When Zakiya walked on without further discussion, the other three were forced to follow behind her.
“Iggy, I must have missed something in the story,” Aylis said. “Why should we put the ship on alert? What’s going to happen?”
“Wingren and I think the alien ship is coming to find us. It’s incredibly far away but it could be here in seconds. I think our cryptikons can be used by it to pinpoint our location.” Iggy contacted Horss. As Zakiya led them toward the hospital, the warning lights on buildings began to glow and flash for attention. Iggy addressed the crew of the Freedom through his shiplink, trying to be informative without causing too much anxiety.
Aylis tried to explain to Iggy and Wingren what was wrong with Zakiya as they followed her into the village commons toward the hospital. They entered the hospital amid the final rush of activity. Zakiya stopped and pivoted in the main entrance foyer, seeking a direction, oblivious to the people who scurried around her. She moved forward, followed by Aylis. In only a few seconds, most of the hospital personnel disappeared.
“Zakiya! Admiral Demba!”
Iggy looked back at the hospital entrance and saw Koji. He sensed the man’s aggressive mood in the tension of his body. He also saw there was no Marine to accompany him. He strode toward them and Iggy instinctively blocked his path to Zakiya.
Zakiya again tried to disengage from the emotional emanations of the little machine stuck to the back of her neck. She touched Iggy to urge him to step aside. She appraised Koji’s demeanor and worried that she misjudged him. He didn’t seem to threaten her physically although he was clearly upset. She didn’t want to put off the search for Shorty but knew she also needed to respond to Koji.
“I demand to see Setek!” Koji stated.
” Setek has been retired,” Zakiya said. “Aylis decided he couldn’t be trusted
420 Far Freedom and was not useful.”
“What right have you?” Koji demanded, turning to Aylis.
“You once claimed you were not alive,” Aylis said. “Neither was Setek. I stopped him and stored him away. Someday I’ll try again to make him alive and whole.”
“I warn you, Koji,” Zakiya said. “We installed in you and in the others a device to make you
unconscious through our shiplink. It was a further precaution against violent behavior.”
“Retire me then!” Koji demanded.
“We don’t think you’re as damaged as Alex and Setek,” Aylis said.
“I must be! I have slaughtered hundreds! I still see their young faces. When you retire Alex, what will I do?”
“You will retrieve him, Koji,” Aylis answered. “Someday you will help us save him.”
“And what of the barbarians?”
“There are too many innocent people who would die in such a war, if we could fight that war,” Zakiya replied.
“Your sentiment will allow civilization to fall!”
“Then it will fall. Why should a handful of people be responsible for the fate of billions?”
“Because people are imperfect. They need help.”
“Are we so perfect, that we should assume that task?”
Koji reacted to someone behind Zakiya. He looked past her to the hospital entrance.
“It’s him,” Aylis said.
Zakiya stood with Koji in front of her and Alex approaching behind her. She assumed Koji was now telling Alex what his fate would be. She felt the pain and sadness transmitted to her by the little gem-like piece of Shorty. She wondered about the alien starship that might be about to visit them. She was too divided by all that was happening at once. “I can’t participate in this any longer!” The urge to find Shorty took priority. She moved away. Alex tried to follow her.
“It’s over!” Koji said to Alex, stepping into his path. “Leave her alone! She will never trust you. She will never trust me. You will never have the ship!”
Alex pushed past Koji and Koji hooked his arm to stop him. Koji and Alex stood close to each other, their bodies tensed for combat. Zakiya shuddered at imagining what violence they could perform. She made up her mind, knowing she would always be a fool about Alex. “Please,” she said to Koji. “Let him follow me.”
“He has no good reason to do that!” Koji argued. “And no moral right!”
“She’s all I have, Koji,” Alex pleaded.