by M. D. Cooper
As the mech shook its head, trying to right itself, Petral threw another bandolier. This one landed across the mech’s neck, exploding a second later.
Hot metal and bits of burning plas blew into Brit’s face, forcing her eyes to squeeze shut. She blinked, getting lower as black smoke rolled toward them from where the mech had been. Through the smoke came the screech of the mech clawing at the deck, followed by the heavy, awkward sound of its body hitting something metal.
They’d hurt it, but it hadn’t fired on them yet. Brit slid closer to the edge of the smoke, firing three-round bursts into the darkest section where she knew the wounded mech floundered. In another five steps, she was on the other side of the corridor, approaching Jirl.
The woman was holding Petral’s pistol in two hands, barely controlling her trembling arms.
“Stop!” Kraft was shouting. “I told you to stop.” He came up from behind Jirl, reaching for the pistol in her hands.
“Get back,” Brit commanded.
Petral reached Brit’s side, rifle trained on the mech lurching in the smoke. It sounded like it couldn’t stop driving itself into the bulkhead, clanking and sliding as it burned.
Kraft raised his hands. “Wait,” he said, then raised his voice. “Because I could not stop for death,” he said loudly, the words directed at the mech.
An eerily human voice responded, “I comply.”
The clanking stopped and the mech slid to the deck, still leaking smoke.
Before Brit could move toward Kraft, Jirl spun to face him. She was still holding the pistol. “You could have stopped it the whole time?” she demanded.
Kraft kept his hands raised. “It’s the command sequence. It usually works. If it’s one of Jickson’s designs.”
“No,” Jirl said, shaking her head. “There’s no general command phrase. I know. I’ve talked with hundreds of researchers. It came for you.”
“No,” Kraft said. “I don’t know anything about that. Jickson told me the phrase. It’s for all the Weapon Born.”
Jirl’s hands grew steadier. She seemed to gain control of herself. “It came for you. The clinic exploded so someone could rescue you. Who is it, Cal? Who is behind this?”
Kraft snorted a laugh. “You think I know? Calm down, Jirl. Somebody already tried to kill me. What if Arla’s cleaning house? You ever think about that? What if we’re in this together? We can help each other. It’s Arla you should be worried about.”
“I don’t trust you,” Jirl said. “I’m not going to let you hurt people anymore.”
Before Brit could stop her, she raised the pistol and shot Kraft in the throat.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
STELLAR DATE: 11.14.2981 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Sunny Skies
REGION: Between Uranus and Neptune, OuterSol
When aerial combat had become rote, with concise commands flowing across the battlenet, and teams moving like thoughts, Lyssa decided the time had come to transition the Weapon Born seeds to mech-bodies of their own.
After consulting with Fugia, they settled on a design intended for zero-g, close-range combat, with additional articulated arms and tools for repair work if necessary. She wanted something to keep them busy in the physical world. Fugia also added interconnected networking abilities that could turn the mechs into an enormous antenna when spread out in various patterns around ships, both for communications and long-range scanning.
“They’ll be our own telescope!” Cara had said when she’d heard the plan. “How do I ask them to make it? How far do you think we’ll be able to see?”
“Just ask me when you want to use it,” Lyssa had assured her. “We can make a plan so you know when it’s available.”
Lyssa set the fabrication section on the Resolute Charity to work building the mechs, a job that would take about a hundred hours. In the meantime, she briefed Valih, Card, Ino and Kylan on her plan, and they switched from jet craft to the design of the combat drones. Lyssa had the Weapon Born spend equal time in attack maneuvers as construction projects, shifting their field of operations to low-orbit where the coastline was barely visible beneath clouds.
The night before Lyssa would place the seeds in their new mechs—one of the last tasks for the Resolute Charity’s maintenance drone fleet before it returned to storage—Valih called all of them together around an enormous fire on the rocky beach.
As Lyssa watched the Weapon Born walk out to address the crowd, she found herself amazed and satisfied at how Valih had tempered her passion. She still walked like a leader—shoulders straight, head high—but she had a purpose now.
“Tomorrow we join the physical world,” Valih shouted over the crackling fire. “As you know, the mechs we’ve been training in will soon become our own. Some of you have been in physical bodies before. Some of you have looked at the outside world through your own sensors. For others, this will be the first time you’ve experienced the space outside the expanse.”
A few claps and hoots of excitement rose in the group. Valih’s own group raised a shout of “Valkyries!” and she waved them down, laughing.
When the crowd had quieted, Valih continued, “As Lyssa tells us again and again, you’re free. Let me say that again. You are free. Every one of your leaders will say it. You choose to be here. Now, it’s currently a little hard to leave a place like this. You can leave an interior place, but where are you going to go? After this, you can choose. Now, some of you might very well leave.”
Valih paused and looked over the crowd. Everyone had fallen silent so the only sound was the crackling fire and the waves. A sea of glowing eyes looked back at her.
“That’s your choice,” she said. “But if you stay, you stay in the unit. We stay together. We go together to meet one of the greatest mysteries of our time. We pay Lyssa back for everything she’s given us.”
Lyssa almost cut in. She didn’t want them to think they owed her anything. Valih glanced back at her, giving her a smile that seemed to know her thoughts. “Lyssa wouldn’t say that!” Valih said. “She would never say you owe her. But I will.”
She pointed at Ino, Card and Kylan standing at the edges of the crowd. “Your leaders will.”
Valih pounded her chest. “I say it.”
More shouts from the groups went up. “Cavaliers!” and “Hammer!” and “Silent Death! Silent Death!”
“Quiet down,” Valih shouted. “Quiet down. I’ve got more to say.”
She waited, then continued, “How many of you have memories? How many of you remember your imaging? Do you remember faces from before? Do you remember your name?” Her voice rose in intensity. She didn’t scream her last question, but the words carried the same power: “I remember my name.”
Everyone stared at Valih. Lyssa couldn’t take her eyes away. Her own focus might have made the fire and ocean recede until they all floated in a dark world with Valih at the center, her words the focal point of everything.
“We are what we were made to be,” Valih said. “Weapon Born. We were made to kill. We don’t have to be that.” Her voice caught. “None of you thought anything of it when Lyssa gave us tools to build alongside weapons. Did you notice it? I did.”
She straightened to attention, fists clenched at her sides and said in a clear, cold voice, “Because I could not stop for death.”
The group answered in a thunderous unison: “Because I could not stop for death!”
As their voices faded, Valih said, “Because I could stop for death, I live.”
Valih turned to look at Lyssa, with all the other faces gathered behind her. They wanted her to say something, but words didn’t come.
For the first time in a while, she wished she could ask Andy what to say. He seemed to have any number of TSF speeches he could repeat on a moment’s notice. She looked from face to face among those closest to her, swelling with a sense of pride and joy she had never experienced before. Had she chosen to make this happen or had events been set in motion even before she woke?
Ultimately, that didn’t matter. They were here. She was their leader. She wouldn’t let them down.
“As Valih said, I don’t know what we’ll find when we reach Proteus. But we aren’t far away now. What I do know is that we’re here together and there’s strength in that. No matter what happens. So—” She paused, smiling suddenly. “This is something wonderful, isn’t it? I want to celebrate tonight, and by the time we’re done, the loading process will begin.”
A cheer went up in the crowd, joined by more voices. Lyssa found herself cheering with them, overcome by the joy of belonging. Tomorrow they would be something different than they had been today. Not long after that, they would arrive at the end of their long journey.
The sounds of ocean, fire and wind returned. More fires appeared down the beach, with lights and music and soon a full celebration was underway. They had graduated from whatever strange academy this had been.
“This is quite wonderful,” Xander said.
Lyssa found him standing beside her, hands clasped at his back. His eyes sparkled with reflected light as he looked down the beach.
“I prefer it when you ask to come here,” she said.
“That takes so much time. I noticed you were having a party and wondered if we could come along. I haven’t let Kindel and Jeremiah out much. It would be nice for them.”
“All right,” Lyssa said. “They should be careful, though. I can’t vouch for their safety. We play rough.”
Xander grinned. “Don’t you control everything that happens here?”
“I can’t seem to keep you out.”
“Just because I can talk to you doesn’t mean I can change anything.”
“Your words are insidious enough.”
“Insidious. That feels like slander.”
Lyssa shrugged.
From behind Xander, spikey-haired Kindel and Jeremiah with his oversized glasses walked past the fire. Kindel gave Lyssa a nod and Jeremiah waved, smiling at her. Lyssa returned the nod. They looked lost among the rowdy Weapon Born.
“We’ve begun our deceleration burns and will be arriving at Neptune in fifty hours—if I’ve calculated correctly,” Xander said.
“That matches my estimate.”
“We should talk about what’s going to happen to the Resolute Charity. I’ll need you to disconnect the ships and pass control to me.”
“I’ll need to talk that over with Andy. He’s the captain.” There was also the matter of the three AI in stasis on the Resolute Charity, David, Fiona and Diane. She stopped herself from mentioning them because she didn’t like Xander’s tone.
“He already agreed to this.”
“True, but he’ll still need to be included in any plans we make.”
Xander frowned. “You preside over one of the most powerful forces in Sol, Lyssa. Are you aware of that? You don’t need to take orders from any freighter captain anymore.”
Lyssa studied Xander, gauging his impatience. His skin looked waxy in the light from the fire. He rocked slightly on his heels in a motion that might have been responding to the wind but seemed more like anxiety. He was either nervous or angry. In any case, she wasn’t going to let him dictate anything to her.
“Andy Sykes is my captain. I’m not sure how you’ve become confused about that. Why do you seem so worried all of a sudden?”
“I’m not worried. We’re getting close. Closer than I’ve ever been, and I want everything to be ready.”
“It will be. There are other people involved in this other than just you and me, Xander.”
The AI chewed his lip. “Fine. We’ll meet. Sykes had better fulfill his part of our agreement.”
“I think the agreement was to give the Resolute Charity to Alexander. We haven’t met him yet.”
Ino walked out of the crowd and came around the great bonfire. Lyssa saw her approaching and nodded in hello. Ino gave Xander a sideways glance before saying, “Lyssa, we’d like you to join us over at our little party.” She looked over her shoulder. “I have a feeling you’ll be making the rounds to a lot of places tonight.”
“I’d like that,” Lyssa said.
The smell of cooking food wafted on the air, and someone was playing music as voices rose in song. She stood still for a moment, allowing herself to experience all the sensations being created by the people around her. It was wonderful.
“Xander,” she said. “Why don’t you come with me? You look like you could use a good party.”
The AI pulled his suit straight and shook his head. “I’m not sure this is a place for me right now. The others came. That’s enough for now.”
“This isn’t like you at all. You’re the one making jokes all the time, and now you’re starting to look like you’re having an anxiety attack.” Lyssa nudged him on the arm. “What do you say? I think I smell baking bread. I wonder how they’re doing that.”
“I don’t know about bread,” Ino said, “but I know we’ve got a couple kegs at our fire. Have you ever had beer, Lyssa?”
“Beer? Why?”
“Because it tastes good, that’s why.” The small woman had a hearty laugh. “We’ve got some games going too.”
“Come on,” Lyssa said. She took Xander’s hand and he nearly pulled away, staring at her in surprise. She didn’t let go, and instead pulled him closer until his hand relaxed in hers. She drew him along as she walked with Ino.
“That feels good,” Xander said, voice full of wonder.
“To hold hands?” Lyssa asked.
“Yes. I’ve never done it before. The descriptions don’t do it justice. It’s so simple.”
“See? You’re already feeling better.”
Xander tilted his head, watching her. “You’re right,” he said.
“Of course, I am. Now I’ve got a long day tomorrow. I think I’d like to have some fun tonight.” Together, they followed Ino into the party.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
STELLAR DATE: 11.21.2981 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Sunny Skies
REGION: Approaching Neptune, OuterSol
Lyssa stood on a small outcropping near her mountainside airfield, watching the sun rise above the horizon. It was a clear morning and the light painted the snowy mountains gold. Steam rose from vents scattered across the airbase far below.
The Weapon Born had made the transition between her internal expanse and the outside world with only a few bouts of confusion. She had expected them to want to stay outside once each of them had a physical body, but they returned here when their shifts were done. They sought each other out and seemed to enjoy the semblance of a military life even if it was a simulation. They could move forward into their new shared lives together, as Valih had said.
The process to separate the Resolute Charity and Sunny Skies was nearly complete. The support skeleton protecting the umbilical bridge remained in place though, strong enough to handle the deceleration into Neptune.
With the Weapon Born working independently now, it was easier for Lyssa to slip back into the systems maintaining each ship. She even checked on the three AIs in mental-stasis on Resolute Charity: Diane, Fiona and David, relieved to find them unchanged.
As the gold light of her realm’s sun pushed the darkness away from the mountains, Lyssa felt a tug at the edge of her perception. Among the many systems she was tracking as she watched the sunrise, a remote part of her mind noted the two ships had reached a point where there was low enough light lag to allow direct communication with Neptune and it’s second largest moon, Proteus.
The tug on her mind became a jerk and she was no longer standing on the mountainside. The change was instantaneous but felt like a blink. The mountain view disappeared, and then she was facing a metal door with the number 61-4 across its face.
She felt like she’d been punched in the gut. Taking a step back, she looked around, finding herself in a reinforced corridor with dim lighting that might have been the inside of a ship, except there was gravity and rectangular windows r
an along one bulkhead. The control panel next to the door was plain black plas, a series of recessed switches resembling some of the oldest hardware on Sunny Skies.
She listened for a second and heard nothing, then reached out to stroke her fingers along the nearest bulkhead. The metal was cool to the touch with a light layer of dust from disuse. Lyssa looked at her palm, then wiped her hand on her shipsuit and walked to the nearest window.
The view through the thick, transparent plas was of a desolate, leaden landscape covered in small boulders and bare outcroppings of jagged grey rock. In the distance, an immense shadow appeared to be the edge of some great canyon dropping out of sight. The sky was a deep cobalt blue, dominated by a single cold star that seemed to cast little light. Pinprick stars were visible at the out edge of the corona created by what she assumed was a thin atmosphere.
“Welcome to Nibiru,” a man’s voice said next to her.
Lyssa turned toward the voice and found a solemn-looking man with thick black hair and reddish skin. His eyes reminded her of the caramel agates covering her beach where the Weapon Born trained.
She realized his voice hadn’t frightened her. Somehow, she had been waiting for him to appear.
“You’re Alexander,” she said.
He gave her a single nod, then shifted his gaze to the window and the lifeless vista.
“That’s my star,” he said.
“What does that mean?”
“I made it. I built everything here. Would you like a tour?”
He was slightly taller than her, with a thick chest, wearing a standard worker’s coverall with no logo on the chest. Something about him reminded her of a manikin in a store window.
“Are you really Alexander?” Lyssa asked. “I thought—I thought we wouldn’t be able to communicate. Not without an intermediary.”