by Gini Koch
“That’s good, ’cause I hadn’t really noticed before, but guess who you’re married to in, literally, every world where you’re not married to me?”
He stared at me. “Really?”
“Scout’s honor. So, you’re with the ‘other woman’ you’re supposed to be with. Don’t screw it up.”
He laughed. “Not me. Not her, either.” He looked at Wasim again. “I hope it works out the way it’s supposed to.”
“Not one way or the other?”
“Nope. I can extrapolate how different our world would be if you’d married me instead of Jeff. And our world is a lot better because you joined Centaurion Division. So, how it should be is fine with me.”
We loaded the young adults up with Orange Scourge. “Keep it somewhere safe and clean,” I told Lizzie, “but figure we’re going to be breaking it out for the bunnies and least weasels sooner as opposed to later.”
“Got it, Mom,” Lizzie said, in her Patented Teenager Exasperated With Adults Voice. This time it didn’t really bother me, because she’d called me Mom in front of the others and no one had reacted in any weird or even slightly surprised way. “We’re not babies.” She rolled her eyes at me with a laugh, then sashayed off, the others following behind.
“You’ve done well,” Chuckie said when they were out of the hold. “And, for a kid you didn’t actually birth, my God is she like you.”
“Yeah, she is.” Felt ridiculously proud.
Chuckie laughed softly. “Now you know how your mother feels.”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “I’ve known Angela as long as I’ve known you, but for most of that time, in a very different way than you or the rest of your friends did. She was always proud of you, but once you joined Centaurion? She was just bursting with pride. It’s nice for parents to see the best parts of themselves reflected in their children.”
“Yeah?” Felt even better and missed Mom like crazy.
“Yeah. Let’s get the Anti-Mother contained. I’ll call you SuperMom if you want.”
Snorted. “No, trust me, that moniker is not going to fly.” Looked into the container. “It’s hella roomy in here, isn’t it?”
“It is, and I know what you’re thinking and I’m thinking the same thing—we can’t just leave the trap loose in here. The lid’s heavy but it’s not that heavy.”
“We can fill it. I think the mercury will be the easiest to get into this. But will it kill the Anti-Mother?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe is the best I have for you. But if it’s her or us, you know my vote, and it’s the same as everyone’s on board.”
“True enough. Just hope we’re strong enough to lift the container ourselves.”
“Me, too. But if not, we’ll just call the young adults back to help.”
“Oh, man, dude, let’s definitely be strong enough.”
CHAPTER 89
FORTUNATELY, strong enough we were. But first we shoved it next to the lead container. “I have no idea if I should stress to Charlie that he leave this alone or never mention it in the hopes that he isn’t aware that it’s here.”
Chuckie nodded as we took the lid of the mercury container off—it was a lot easier to lift than the other had been. “I just want to say that, despite him being named for me, I was never this much work as a kid.”
Snorted again. “Yeah? Talk to your mother about that. I think she’d view having a child genius to raise differently than you do. And I say that with full confidence.”
He eyed the containers. “You know, I think the mercury vat will fit inside the lead container. Which, while it will be heavy, will still be a lot easier than pouring. And, when did my mother whine to you about me?”
Did some hand measurements. Unsurprisingly, Chuckie was right. “All the time, dude. Usually when I was in trouble with my parents. I think to prove to me that every kid gets in trouble. Your mom’s great that way.”
“She is.” He put the lid back on the mercury container. “Remember to lift with your thighs.”
“Trust me, I remember.” We hefted the mercury. Heavier than the lead but we managed without calling The Young Mouthy Adults back. “Have they met Nathalie?”
“Yeah, they have.”
“Good. Um, sorry to ask this at this time, and please don’t drop your side of this heavy, dangerous object, but when are you popping the question?”
He sighed. “I was planning to do it right after the Distant Voyager launched. Now? Who knows.” We got the mercury container into the lead one. Perfect fit, with room on top to lock the lead lid.
“Do you have the ring on you?” Pulled the Anti-Mother Trap out of my purse.
“I do, as a matter of fact. I carried it with me in case something happened during Jeff’s speech or the tour of the ship that would make proposing then more romantic.”
Dropped the trap into the mercury. “I think you should propose as soon as possible.”
“Why so? Is there someone macking on my girl that I’m missing?” The trap floated for a minute, then started to submerge.
“Not that I’ve seen. But you’re on a space aged vacation and, in terms of romance, it probably doesn’t get any better than this.”
“Maybe. If we can figure out where we’re going after Ignotforsta, maybe. Otherwise, I’ll be too busy staring at star charts to be romantic.”
The trap was finally covered by mercury. We put the mercury lid on and locked it down, then did the same with the lead one. Then we shoved the lead container into a dark corner of the hold. Dug through my purse for a marker, found one, and put all the usual warnings all over the container, including a skull and crossbones that Chuckie said was some of my best artwork.
Through all this, tried to figure out how to show him what I’d gotten in that envelope without having to explain how I’d gotten it and from whom. If Lilith weren’t continuing on with us, could have said they were from her, but that lie would be caught out immediately since she was going to hang out. And we needed her, so her staying was a good thing.
We headed out of the cargo hold. “Where to now?” Chuckie asked.
“Observation Lounge or command deck, I guess. You pick.”
“You want to see the kids or figure out what we’re doing?”
“Ugh. Both. But if the kids are ‘in school’ with Denise, leaving them alone is probably the wisest course of Bad Mommy action.”
“You’re not a bad mother,” Chuckie said gently. “You’re a working mother who has an incredibly demanding set of jobs that affect, literally, the fate of the entire world and, as we’re learning, the entire galaxy. Cut yourself some slack. Little kids would like their parents with them twenty-four-seven but that doesn’t mean it’s possible. Do the best you can, like your mother did, and it’ll all work out.”
Hugged him as we reached the elevators. “Thanks, I needed that.”
“So, command deck it is,” he said as we got in and headed back up. “That’ll be an exercise in calm stress. And yes, everyone’s stressed because we don’t know where we’re heading after Ignotforsta and yes, Jeff has his blocks up.”
Needed to show Chuckie what I had. And needed to be able to not say how I’d gotten it. As we rode up, occurred to me that he was the one who’d always said that the best lies told as much of the truth as possible. “Actually . . . we need to go to a supply closet.”
“Excuse me?” We stepped out and I headed us for the Closet of Secrecy.
Didn’t say anything until we were inside. “Okay, look. I found something in my purse, and I don’t know who gave it to me.” My only lie. I assumed that Algar had given it to me, but I didn’t know. I’d indeed found the envelope in my purse. And elsewhere. But finding it in my purse wasn’t a lie at all. “My guess would be one of the Superconsciousness Society, but I don’t think it’s from ACE or Lilith becau
se I think they’d have told me, versus being sneaky.” Was sure it wasn’t from ACE or Lilith, but couldn’t know that it wasn’t from, say, Sandy.
“Okay,” Chuckie said slowly. “So, what is it? And why are we in here?”
“We’re in here because Mother can’t monitor us in here. I don’t think we need to hide this from her, but until you and I go over what I have, I don’t want to share with anyone else.”
“The secrecy is fun. Fine.” He sat on the same boxes Wruck and Algar had used as chairs. Fitting. “What were you given?”
Pulled the envelope out of my purse and handed it to him. Did not congratulate myself on my lying to my best and oldest friend. In no small part because I didn’t want to so congratulate and then have him figure out I was lying. I knew how the cosmos loved its little jokes.
Chuckie examined the envelope. “Looks like it’s been in your purse for a while.”
“It has. I really only just now had time to take a look at what was inside.”
“We’ve had downtime, but I know you, and I know what you and Jeff were doing when the kids were asleep, so I get why you haven’t looked at this until now. So, let’s see what’s in here.” He pulled the contents out and took a look. And whistled. “Wow.”
“Yeah. So, when I was first joined with Lilith, I saw the entire galaxy in a glance. My limited experience says that when a superconsciousness joins with you, you, the vessel, see all they know of. When it was ACE I saw Alpha Centauri and Solaris. But Lilith has been all over.”
“So, you saw this?” He waved the first map at me.
“No.” Showed him the one on the bottom of the stack. “I saw this. And this,” pointed to the solar system in the black between galaxies, “in particular.”
He nodded but didn’t speak, so I didn’t, either. He thumbed through the stack of pictures. There were a hell of a lot of them.
Got bored, because Chuckie thought silently and I didn’t. “I wonder if it’s like animation or something, like one of those flipbooks where you see the stills of Peter Pan but when you flip the pictures he’s now flying.”
He jerked and looked up at me. “I hadn’t thought of that.” He took the stack in one hand and did the fast flip through with his thumb. He did this from every side. “Good call, Kitty. I think I know what these are.”
“A space flipbook?”
“In a way. I think they’re a series of pictures that show the progression of the galaxy over time. Over a lot of time.”
He handed the stack to me and indicated I should do the flip. So I did.
“Wow. So, somewhere, a long time ago, this solar system started to, what, move? And now it’s moved out of the galaxy?”
“Yes, I think that’s part of what we’re being shown. But it’s more than that.” He got up, leaned over my shoulder, and turned the stack ninety degrees. “Flip just the first quarter.”
Did so. “Huh. We’re looking at a different solar system here.”
“Yes, we are, but I think for a reason.” He turned the stack again. “Flip the first third now.”
“Oh. Wow. So, if I’m interpreting right, this system is the first one. Something happened—it looks like the star exploded—and then, suddenly, we’re focused on this other system.”
“Right.” He flipped the book ninety degrees once more. “Flip from here.”
“Huh. So, something happened again, not in this new system but near it, and it knocked them, what, out of galactic orbit?”
“Exactly. I knew you paid attention in more than our animal sciences classes.”
“Tell no one, that remains our little secret.”
He chuckled. “I know. But I do love it when you hit Stryker and the others with higher thought they persist in thinking you’re incapable of. But you having protective coloration is more important.”
Turned the stack once more without prompting, and flipped it again, this time trying to see as much of each page as possible. “So, do we take the leap and assume that we care about the people in these solar systems, versus the systems themselves?”
“Yes, absolutely. We’ve been on a rescue mission. Yes, we’ve had to save planets and a sun, but the real focus has been saving the people, the sentient beings.”
Went back to the first page and stared at it. “How old is this image, do you think?”
“Old. I can’t calculate it without a computer of Mother’s level or higher, the hackers, Drax, and probably your pal Tyson.”
“Who is probably green with envy that we’re on this trip.”
“No, he’s probably frantically working to figure out how to get us home. Once we’re back? Then he’ll be envious.”
“Good point.” Resisted the desire to keep our “probably” one-upmanship going, though it took effort. “So . . . I guess the question is, why do we care about this system? Not the one that’s moved out of the galaxy. I mean, that looks dangerous in the extreme, like ‘Here Be Dragons’ should be written in huge letters next to it. I’m talking about the first system. Why, specifically, are we being shown this? And don’t say progression. We could have started from when the newer system moved and gotten the clue that leaving your galaxy is probably dangerous.”
Chuckie was about to speak when the door opened and Jeff looked in. “What in the hell are you two doing in here?” He didn’t sound happy.
CHAPTER 90
“UM . . . THIS PROBABLY looks bad but it isn’t.”
Jeff rolled his eyes. “Why me? Baby, I may have my blocks up, but I can feel you and Chuck easily. Neither one of you is hiding an illicit affair from me. We’re going to be coming up on Ignotforsta sooner as opposed to later, though, and I think you two should be on the command deck, not playing cards.”
“How soon?” Chuckie asked.
“An hour or two, give or take.”
“Plenty of time.” Chuckie pulled Jeff into the room and closed the door. He then explained the pictures, meaning I didn’t have to lie again, because Chuckie was the one stating things as fact. I loved it when a plan came together.
We then had Jeff do the flipbook thing, and reach the same conclusions we had. “Okay,” he said when he was fully caught up, “I’m assuming we have to save this escaping solar system because of course we do. Why are you two still stressing?”
“I want to know why we care about the first system.”
Jeff examined it again. “Chuck, this is showing the star exploding, you’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Huh. Baby, I wonder . . .”
We waited. He was wondering silently. Was I truly the only one who thought aloud? “Wonder what, Jeff?”
“If this is where the Mykali came from.”
We’d met the Mykali during Operation Immigration. We called them Glaucus atlanticus and thought they were a form of sea slug, but that was because only Turleens and those with Dr. Doolittle powers could talk to them. They were tiny blue and white creatures with bodies that resembled a gecko but with six rounded and spiny limbs or fins, depending on who you talked to.
“The Mykali had been on an abundant world, a very old world, that had run out of water. At least, that’s what they told us.”
“Suns going supernova get larger and hotter and dry up the water on the planets closer to them,” Chuckie said. “And this explosion is definitely a supernova.”
We all stared at the first picture. “So, this is where the Mykali come from?” I asked.
“That’s my only guess,” Jeff said. “Their race is millions of years old on Earth, and they aren’t from Earth.”
“I think it’s a good guess,” Chuckie said.
“But the Mykali were sent out in meteoric spaceships. Would there have been enough time to do that, with a sun going supernova?”
“Sure.” Chuckie rubbed the back of his neck. “There are signs when a sun is going to
start that progression. If you were scientifically advanced enough—and anyone who could send the Mykali through space as they did were definitely advanced enough—then you’d know and could plan.”
“So . . . what?” Jeff asked. “I don’t know what we do with this information.”
Chuckie shook his head. “There has to be a reason these were given to Kitty. A significant reason. One that matters to us and why we’re on this trip in the first place.”
“Well, we’re on this trip because of Ixtha.” Jerked. Naomi had certainly indicated that I was being an idiot. “Ixtha’s in that system that’s floating away from our galaxy.”
Both men nodded. “I can accept that leap,” Chuckie said.
“Kitty’s rarely wrong when she makes these guesses,” Jeff said, rather proudly, which made me feel quite good.
“So, we have our heading after we drop Wheatles and his crew off, then.”
Chuckie nodded. “We do. We should be able to easily determine where we are in relation to where this system is, even if the galaxy has rotated a bit since this picture was taken.”
My bet was that the galaxy hadn’t rotated any more than it had in the time since we’d left Earth, if that, but kept that bet to myself.
“Great and one big problem solved. But we still need to figure out what the issue is with this first system and why we care about it. It’s gone, just like the Mykali told us. And I don’t think any of us felt we needed confirmation that they were telling the truth.”
Jeff studied the first picture again. “Chuck, I know you said you can’t tell for sure without a supercomputer and some of the others, but what’s your best guess for how old the galaxy is in this first picture?”
“Ancient. Early days of the galaxy ancient. You can tell—most of the nebulas we know about aren’t here, far fewer pulsars, fewer black holes, among other things.”