“Logtown,” Flint whispered to himself as the twenty-foot-tall wooden gates swung open to allow the cart passage. He didn’t miss the two guns pointing at them, one from either side, where perches sat atop the corners of the fence.
“Don’t mind them. They won’t shoot...unless I tell them to.” Bull thought he made the world’s best joke and laughed hard at his own remark.
Ace let out a nervous laugh, but Flint sat still, not trusting their current predicament. They seemed normal enough, but they were still vulnerable. With a glance behind him, he sensed Bree felt the same way. They hadn’t taken their weapons away, and Flint caught Bree fingering her holster as if she was ready for trouble.
The cart stopped just inside the gates, which swung shut, a thick latch falling down to keep them locked from intruders. Just who was going to try to get inside?
Flint scanned the inside of the fortification and was surprised to see it look so sparsely set up. “Where’s the rest of it?” he asked. Sixty years, and all they had were a few log cabins?
“What do you mean?” Karl asked.
Ace leapt down, landing on the grass without sound. “You had sixty years to do this. I guess we were just expecting… something more.”
Karl walked over to the kid and set his hands on Ace’s shoulders. “Can you repeat that?”
“What? We were expecting more,” Ace said.
Flint saw the look of fear in all three of the colonists’ eyes. He tensed as Karl spoke again.
“Not that part. Why did you say ‘sixty years’?” Karl asked softly.
Others were gathering around them, new faces, all curious to see the newcomers. “What is it? Who are these people?” a woman asked.
More were streaming out from the buildings, and Flint saw a large crop on the far right, where at least a dozen workers were setting their tools down and walking toward the village entrance.
Ace swallowed hard, and Flint stepped beside the boy. “Sixty years. You left through the Rift six decades ago, and the Watchers came thirty years later and attacked the Earth Fleet. That’s why no one has come for you since.”
A collective gasp filled the air. Karl paled. “It can’t be.” He looked over at Jarden, who was lying still, the stasis still intact. “It’s only been two years. Just under two years.”
A cacophony of questions erupted from the colonists, and Flint was swimming in a sea of confusion. Two years? How was that possible? And if it was, then how much time had already transpired back in their own solar system? Was the war over before it began?
“Are you sure?” Flint asked, unable to hide the stupid grin from his face. Of course they were sure.
“Very. Come, we have to get the commander” – Karl corrected himself – “the councilman below to Pilgrim. His wife will want to see him.”
Flint felt better for hearing that. “His wife is still alive? He’ll be thrilled to hear that. How about his kids?”
Jane nodded. “They’re all very much alive. Though they may find his current age a little... off-putting.”
Jarden was one hundred and ten, and his kids would only be nearing eighteen. What would they think of their father?
The questions from the nearby colonists flew around them, making it hard to concentrate.
Karl raised his hand in the air and shouted, “Stop! We’ll learn what we can learn and have a town meeting later. Go back to your tasks. Nothing changes today.”
The voices ceased, and Flint was impressed with the deference they gave the man. A lean woman approached, her dark bangs plastered to her forehead with sweat from the hot morning. “Karl, stay safe.” She kissed the bearded man on the cheek and walked away carrying a scythe in her hand, heading back toward the farming fields.
“How many of you live up here?” Flint asked Jane.
“About four hundred at any given time. We rotate between the Pilgrim and here,” she answered.
“Let’s get suited up. We’re going below,” Karl said.
They carried Jarden again and walked along the left fence line until they reached rocky ground. The dwellings were on the opposite side of Logtown.
Bull and Flint set the councilman down on the rocky ground, and Karl and Jane pressed on the wooden fence, unlatching a secret compartment. Inside sat breathing masks: archaic ones, by the look of them. Flint thought they might be modified fighter masks.
Jane yanked a lever, moving the cubby away, and beneath it was lake water. “This is our access to the Pilgrim.”
“We’re going to swim there?” Ace asked, peering into the depths of the lake.
“Nope.” Jane passed Ace a mask and handed one to Flint before placing one over Jarden’s face.
Flint was tempted to stay behind, but he wasn’t sold on their story. He didn’t want to miss out on any details pertinent to their current situation. Besides, he really didn’t want to separate from the other three people he’d come with. He felt a certain obligation to them, and if anything were to happen to them, he’d never live it down.
“Here.” He handed a mask to Bree, who looked pale as she stared into the water. Still, she wordlessly placed the mask over her face, and they awaited instructions.
Karl stood before them all, and Bull opened another narrow compartment, revealing a large chain. He began to turn a crank, the muscles of his sleeveless arms bulging as he did so.
“We don’t swim. We use a lander that’s on a chain trail between here and the ship. It’s not ideal, but it was the simplest way to move ten or so people at a time, as well as supplies, back and forth,” Karl said. The crank slowed, and Bull clicked the handle into place as the rear of the lander extended up into the air. The space was just wide enough to accommodate the doorway, and with the turn of a manual handle, the cargo hold on the lander sprang open.
“Whoa. That’s pretty cool,” Ace said.
“Get in,” Jane said with a smile. Flint peered down into the ship, revealing a person inside, wearing a Fleet uniform. The man was obviously startled. “It’s okay, Scott. They’re with us.”
Bull helped Flint get Fairbanks inside, and they strapped him down. It was hard staying upright in the forty-five-degree-angled ship under water, but they managed. The rest of them crawled inside the unlit cabin. Scott watched Flint with interest but didn’t say anything. The dash had tiny, dim light bulbs on it, and Flint remembered them saying the Suckers came for anything outputting a certain level of energy.
“Everyone inside?” Karl asked, his voice muffled by the mask. The door to the lander closed from the outside; Bull winked at Flint from behind the lander. He wasn’t coming with them.
There was no water inside their transport vessel, and Flint asked about the protocol with the masks.
“Because we’ve had leaks before, and it didn’t end well,” Jane said as she wound her way to the front end of the ship, beside Scott. Flint was strapped to the middle bench, with Ace to his left and Karl to his right. Fairbanks was in the back again, with Bree beside him.
The lander shook and they started moving, heading deep into the lake. The chains were pulled and rattled against the outer hull, sending clanging echoes through the dark ship. Flint stared out the front viewscreen and saw schools of bioluminescent fish-like creatures dancing in the otherwise pitch-black lake water.
Everyone remained silent, but Flint could feel the questions being held back by Ace next to him. The softly glowing outer lights illuminated the Pilgrim’s location.
Behind him, Jarden came to. “Where are we?” came the gravelly question.
Bree answered him. “We’re going to see your family.”
9
Wren
Wren had been happy to help the captain discover what had befallen the councilman and the others. She still didn’t know if they were alive or dead, but she knew Flint was resourceful. She didn’t think he’d let anything crash-land his ship without taking precautions.
They needed to find a way to get to the surface, and after witnessing the destruction
from the insects, she’d suggested a plan. The captain was going over the details with her crew now, and Wren had slipped away to get some sleep. Only she’d been so wired from the past few days’ events, she’d lain there staring at the ceiling for hours before deciding to come to her lab.
Her progress had been slow, but she was already light years ahead of where she’d ended over two years prior. She’d found the right cells to target, and with a live specimen, it was a much simpler task. She was already going through a few tests and seeing results. At this pace, she figured she’d have a solution in a couple of weeks, which was far from normal.
Wren sat in her office and changed the parameters of her algorithm. She didn’t know what the Watcher’s world looked like, so she used Earth as an example. Earth had over twenty billion people on it at any given time, and she used the program to simulate the effects on the Watchers when infected by the virus if they were on Earth and they targeted New London first.
She watched the red blotches spread out, quickly hitting the rest of Europe, spreading in days over to Africa and Asia before hopping over to North, then South America. It took a total of two hundred days to reach a global devastation event, but this was based on humans and their travel habits. There was no way to predict the Watcher society. She needed to know more about them first.
Wren ran a hand over her thick hair and pushed off from the desk, her chair rolling back toward the doorway. The lights were low in the lab, the blue energy from the Watcher’s cell casting a soft shadow across the space. Wren crossed around the desks and tables, stopping a short way from the cell.
“Good morning, Watcher. How did you sleep?” she asked politely.
It was sitting up now. A small piece of dignity must have been coursing through its veins, because it pulled the large robe tighter around it when she spoke. It had accepted her offer of the clothing and seemed grateful. It wasn’t an animal to be caged. It was a member of a race so advanced, it had the ability to destroy humanity if it so chose. She guessed they’d already chosen that, since they’d invaded.
Wren stared at it, wondering if it had a name, a family, and a home. Don’t feel sorry for it, Wren. Don’t do it. She had a habit of humanizing things, but she didn’t want to with this one. The only way they had a chance was to destroy the enemy. It was obvious the Earth Fleet didn’t consider itself well enough equipped to do this task, so it was up to her to extinguish them another way.
She started to walk away, when he spoke. His voice was low and growly, but he was speaking. Her back was to him, and she couldn’t help but smile as he murmured something. Wren wiped the grin off her face and turned to him.
“Keep talking.” She whispered this quietly, knowing that every word was being recorded by the computers. She needed it to say as much as possible, so Charles could eventually dissect and comprehend the language.
He said a few more phrases, none of them comprehensible, before he stood, stretching out. He paced now, walking back and forth in the confined space. He’d stopped communicating, but he didn’t have to now. Wren could sense a shift in the Watcher. He stood taller, ate his food with less delay, and she attributed most of the behavior adjustment to the robe he now wore. It was dark gray, cinched at the waist with a non-removable strap.
Initially, she’d been worried he’d find a way to hang himself with it, and they’d watched closely to see if he’d attempt such a thing. At any given moment, the system would gas him if they considered him close to killing himself. It wasn’t ideal, but it was a backup. Either way, Wren was thrilled to see him happier. Maybe, just maybe, they could find a way to exchange information, and learn everything they could about his home planet.
Wren decided to get back to her samples and see how the results were coming on the latest batch. She could really use Charles’ help, but the android had been missing since yesterday. Where could he possibly have gotten to, and why didn’t he reply to her messages?
Wren saw the Watcher settle into the corner of his cell, and she went to work. Yes, she was confident she’d find a way to destroy them if it came down to that. She only hoped there’d be another way.
Benson
“Where are you, Jarden?” Benson asked himself as he scanned the planet’s surface. They’d found the remains of the lander after hours of searching. It appeared that the lander was mostly intact, and the chute was used, so they were likely alive. “But where?”
He’d followed their potential path toward the beacon, but the cloud cover had been so intense for the last day that they couldn’t see the lake, let alone anything around it. Finally, the clouds were clearing up, and Benson used Eureka’s cameras to zoom to the body of water, following the edge of it as well as he could. The image was blurry, but he was confident he’d see their outlines, should a person be walking along the rocky edge.
He grew tired of this and scanned to the west side of the lake. Wispy clouds covered the sky, but Benson made out something beyond the white fluff. Was that smoke? The picture was blurry and half covered by clouds, but he swore there was a manmade structure beneath. Maybe a cabin?
“Mr. Benson?” A voice lingered at his open door. He looked to see an orderly nervously waiting for him to answer.
“Yes?”
“The corvette is loaded. Is there anything else you need? Should I let the captain know?” she asked.
Benson’s finger twitched. “No. Keep this between us. The captain already knows about my mission, but it’s a secret between her and me, so please don’t spread the news. She’d be furious.”
The woman’s eyes went wide and she nodded vehemently. “I would never do anything to upset you or the captain. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Benson considered sending her on some errant task to keep her busy for the next two days, but he shook his head and waved her away. She went scurrying down the hall, and Benson looked back to the screen, where the clouds had blown in thicker than before. He set the image to record and got up from his desk.
The corridors were nearly empty; most of the crew were done with their tasks for the twenty-four-hour cycle. Benson often wondered if using Earth days was still a logical choice, but decided there was no sense in disrupting the routines genetically hardwired into humans for so many generations.
He walked down the sixth deck halls, eager to tour the corvette he’d be leaving in. The trip was going to last months, mostly because he didn’t have a Shift drive on the corvette. It had taken all their efforts to get one built in time for the Eureka, and Jarden had squashed his suggestion of using the technology on a backup vessel.
“Wait a moment,” Benson said to himself before returning back inside his mind to continue. There was another option. The skinny kid had brought a modified EFF vessel with him. It had the Shift drive built in. Why had he been so stupid? Benson could get there and back with no one noticing.
With newfound energy, he stopped where he was going and headed to his quarters, where he’d send the orderly back to the corvette to move a few things into the other hangar, the one that happened to house the Shift fighter.
Benson kept his face still, like any good poker player. He felt much as he had in his youth, pushing chips into the center of the table at a high-credit game in Old Moscow. He was credit-committed and hoped his cards were either good enough or the opponent wasn’t willing to call his bluff. Either way would win the hand.
Charles
Charles had tracked down Benson and watched him stride down deck six with purpose. Charles kept his hands on the floor, bent over, using a tool to pretend he was fixing a remote cleaning drone. Something changed in Benson’s eyes when Charles glanced up, and the man turned around, quickly walking back the way he’d come.
He was up to something; that much, Charles could tell. He needed Wren to believe him, but he just didn’t have the empirical proof yet. Charles lifted off the ground, sending the small mechanical vacuum on its way, following at a safe distance as Benson headed toward his quarters.
Charles had been kind enough to input a few suggestions into her work, tweaking a few facets without her knowing it. He could see how to make the virus work, but didn’t know how. It was strange. After being stuck in his own network for so many years on Caliban, near Uranus, it was as if the universe was exposed to him. With a constant link to the Interface, he’d been able to learn anything at any time.
Even now, with the Interface millions of light years away, they’d stored everything relevant on board the Eureka. He was able to read and access most topics of interest, like biology and chemistry; anything regarding their experiments.
Charles knocked on the door, and Wren turned to him. He liked seeing her. She was a friend, and even though the concept was new and exciting, he didn’t doubt it for a minute. He couldn’t keep the details he’d learned from her for a moment longer.
“Hello, Charles. Where have you been?” she asked.
“Following Benson.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. Maybe this was a mistake. “Really? For what purpose?”
Charles let it out quickly. “It was Benson. He caused the disturbance in the recordings. He was inside your lab for eight minutes the other day. I think he was here to see the Watcher.”
To his astonishment, Wren didn’t argue with him. “Makes sense. I’ve always thought there was something off about that man. What was he doing in here?”
“That’s what I’m trying to learn.”
“And what have you found?” Wren asked him.
Charles hung his head in a very human gesture. “Not much, I’m afraid. He’s careful about whom he speaks with and where he’s seen. I was just watching him on deck six, and he stopped abruptly and went back to his quarters.”
Now Wren stood, waving her hands in the air. “You’re seriously following the man? If he catches wind, and he really is doing something suspect, what do you think he’ll do if he finds you watching him?”
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