The Survivors (Book 12): New Discovery

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The Survivors (Book 12): New Discovery Page 10

by Hystad, Nathan


  “We’re going to have to warn our friends at Haven, Earth, and New Spero to be on the lookout for a handsome man of advancing years,” I said, smirking and stroking my beard.

  “This isn’t a joke, Papa. That device in the wrong hands could mean big trouble,” Jules said.

  My smile vanished. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

  ____________

  Jules woke with a gasp. She wiped at her face, feeling as though she was covered by the flesh of the melting Sprites. Her blankets were smothering her, and she tossed them to the side, finding her sheets damp with sweat.

  She told herself that she’d done what was necessary, that she wasn’t a monster, but it did little to appease her guilty conscience. She’d taken a lot of lives the day before, and the expression on her mother’s face would haunt her for years. It was fear: not of the Sprites, but of Jules.

  It was time to wake up, but there was still an hour before most of the morning crew would be moving around the ship. Jules took a quick steam shower, not bothering to braid her hair today. She let it hang long over her shoulders, the curls untamed and wild as she felt. She left the Gatekeepers jumpsuit in her suite and wore a more traditional outfit: jeans and a sweatshirt.

  She caught a reflection of herself in the darkened screen of a computer in the corridor as she strode through the ship, stopping to appraise it. She almost resembled a real teenager, a human with nothing but boys and homework to think about. Only she wasn’t like that; she was alien, her eyes glowing bright green in a constant reminder that she was different.

  “What are you doing up?” her friend’s voice asked. Patty leaned against the wall casually.

  “Me? I thought you hated waking up early,” Jules said.

  “I do, but… there’s this guy I met, and I can only see him… between shifts,” Patty said.

  Jules frowned at the comment. “Wait. You’re seeing someone on the ship? A crew member?”

  Patty only grinned wider. “Maybe. I can’t tell you. I know Jules Parker, and she’ll run to her parents, who will tell my parents, and then I’ll be once again relegated to my bedroom with nothing to do.”

  “But you’re only sixteen… the crew…”

  “Jules, you’re such an old lady sometimes. Come on, let’s get some food. I’m starving,” Patty said, but the idea of eating at that moment set Jules’ stomach inside out.

  “Sure.” Jules followed along. She’d told herself to spend more time with Patty this trip, mostly because she’d done her best to avoid the girl since she’d been kicked out of the Academy all those years ago. Jules did feel like an old lady compared to her friend, but she also had a hard time not giving in and telling Patty how she felt about her brother Dean – not that Patty wasn’t already aware of Jules’ feelings.

  The mess hall was busy now; over fifty uniformed officers were inside, and Jules recognized a few. Sergo and Walo sat with Loweck, and Jules waved at them, passing by the table without stopping. As soon as the smell of syrup and pancakes hit her senses, her stomach unclenched and growled.

  Patty was already layering food on a plate, and Jules laughed. “Where do you put it all?”

  “It’s called the gym. There’s nothing else to do on this ship. You should join me sometime.” Patty glanced at Jules’ stomach, and she self-consciously placed a hand there. She wasn’t out of shape. Patty had a habit of making everyone around her feel a little worse about themselves, in a twisted effort to make herself feel better.

  Jules only took one pancake as a result of the comment, and Patty’s eyes glimmered in success. Jules understood exactly what the girl was doing and turned from her. “You know what, I think I’ll eat with my peers today.” She grabbed three more pancakes, slathered them in butter, dropped a couple of eggs on top, and walked away, leaving Patty stammering something. She ignored it.

  “Good morning!” Jules smiled widely at the bridge crew. “Do you mind if I join you?”

  Loweck kicked a chair out from across the table and winked at her. “Our pleasure.”

  Sergo chewed loudly on something that resembled the center of a yellow flower. Walo slapped his wrist and told him to eat quietly.

  “How are you doing?” Loweck asked.

  “Me?” Jules noticed that all of their gazes were on her. Word traveled fast on a spaceship.

  “We heard about the Tedaus. What a bunch of jerks. Sending you in like that unprepared,” Sergo said, plucking at another petal.

  “It wasn’t like that. They were scared. I don’t blame them. The Sprites were…”

  “Sprites? They don’t sound so bad,” Sergo said.

  Walo buzzed, her sleek wasp-like features darkening. “Would you just…”

  “Sorry. Go on.” Sergo set his food down.

  “They needed help, and we gave it to them. End of story,” Jules said, poking at her food. “Do you mind if we talk about something else?”

  Loweck seemed to pick up on it, and she tapped the table. “We visit Oliarn Dian tomorrow. I met one of the Lucats at Udoon years ago. The environment wasn’t very favorable for him. They thrive with extreme heat during the day and severe cold at night.”

  “Can we speak with him?” Jules asked.

  “The one on board? Sure. We have their language in the translators. He’s a little odd, but I’ve already explained our delay to him, and he was very understanding,” Loweck said.

  “Are you going with the team to the surface?” Jules asked the orange-skinned woman.

  “I am. I should have been there with you last time,” Uncle Zeke’s wife said.

  Jules shook her head. “You didn’t want to be, believe me.”

  “I have to get to the bridge. Walo, you coming?” Sergo asked.

  “Catch you later, Jules.” Walo buzzed as she smiled, before walking off beside Sergo.

  “Are you really doing okay, Jules?” Loweck asked now that it was just the two of them.

  She took another bite, letting the sugar flow through her. “I’m fine. How about you? Do you miss the Academy at all?” This transition couldn’t be easy on everyone. Slate and Loweck had been there for a few years.

  “I do, but you know what?” Loweck’s eyes were bright as she leaned in.

  “What?”

  “There’s nothing I like more than an expedition like this. Stars all around us, the expanse of unknown space. We’re doing really important things here, helping those people from that damned Collector’s ship.” Loweck had been taken by the wraith, and it had only been a year since Jules had saved her while helping the Nirzu relocate to their new planet.

  “Me too. But I miss school a little bit. My schedule was predictable and I saw my friends daily, and had conversations with my instructors,” Jules admitted.

  “I was an instructor, and you’re talking to me. Now we’re friends. Maybe we can make breakfast a new tradition,” Loweck told her.

  “That sounds great. Thanks.” Jules glanced to the doorway and realized most of the room’s inhabitants had filtered out. Shift change. As the last of them departed, a figure stood in the entrance. Her father was in uniform, his hair styled, his beard combed. He looked very serious.

  “It seems you have some pressing business,” Loweck said. “I’d better be getting to the bridge too.”

  Jules left her plate half full and walked with Loweck to Papa’s side. “Can you tell the commander I’ll be a little late? Jules and I have a meeting with someone.”

  “Yes, sir.” Loweck walked off, leaving them alone.

  “Fontem?” Jules asked, and Papa nodded.

  ____________

  Fontem was in the library, where I’d asked to meet. It was empty, with the exception of us, and he was deep in concentration, poring over a computer screen, his fingers typing quickly as he added to his notes. He glanced up, his brown eyes meeting my gaze, before turning to watch my daughter.

  “The great Jules Parker,” he said, nodding his head toward her.

  “Hello, Fontem,” she said,
smiling back at him.

  “What a pleasure. I’ve been wanting to talk with you for a long time. Did you tell her about the Zan’ra you seemed so interested in last time we spoke?” he asked me, and I gave him a quick shake of my head.

  “The Zan’ra?” Jules asked. “Does this have anything to do with O’ri? The one from Regnig’s Stor tales?”

  “We’ll get to that, Fontem. Tell me everything you can about the time-travel device,” I told him, sitting across from him. I pressed aside a stack of books, and Jules took the chair beside me, resting her elbows on the table.

  “It’s more commonly referred to as a Delineator, but that’s a lie,” Fontem said.

  “Why’s it a lie?” Jules asked.

  “Because it’s not commonly known at all. The Delineator is a rough translation into your language, but it was created by a wise being from the far reaches of the universe, millions of years ago,” Fontem said.

  I mouthed the word millions and peered at Jules, who looked as perplexed as I did.

  “That’s right. Millions. The universe is a vast place, and we are but a tiny fragment of it. What you have on record, what your Alliance understands, is the smallest of puzzle pieces that make up the greater picture. It has changed over time, and to some beings out there, a million years is but the snap of a finger on their continuous existence. You can see why they wouldn’t want to meet us. To them, we are insects, specks of dust gathering in their attics, if you can understand the comparison,” Fontem said. He had a way with words, and he spoke with care, his hands moving along with his lips.

  “I get it. There are great and powerful beings out there who don’t give a rat’s ass about us. Does that sum it up?” I asked, and Jules frowned at me.

  “Papa, let him talk,” she said, and I shrugged.

  “Go on.”

  “That’s correct, Dean. But occasionally, a race is caught in their stream, and that was the case for one system too close to these powerful borders to avoid contact. A young woman of the Golmi was abducted by one of their curious youths. She was returned a year or so later, with little memory of her time among them, but she somehow understood the universe far better than anyone had previously. She used this to create…” He pointed at Jules.

  “The Delineator,” she finished for him.

  “That’s right.”

  “But how does it work?” I asked.

  “It’s pretty straightforward. You can select a time to send yourself into, but bear in mind a few things,” Fontem said.

  “What things?”

  “Time is fickle. What do you know of other dimensions?” he asked.

  “Very little. What anyone does. There are multiple planes of existence. I used something called a Relocator to send the Iskios Vortex through to another dimension years ago,” I told him.

  His eyes went wide. “You’ve accessed another dimension, and…”

  “It’s a long story for another time. Please continue.” I didn’t want to get sidetracked. I had a feeling I could sit and talk with Fontem for weeks without tiring of it.

  “Yes. Time is fickle, and all that. Okay, right now, you’re capable of doing so many different things, everyone making choices. Each of those choices would result in a different timeline, correct?”

  Jules and I nodded, trying to follow along.

  “Then, from this very moment, there are branches of time spreading out from each of us, creating thousands, millions, eventually billions of potential futures. Because of this, sending yourself into the future might not result in the future you would have ended up in if you’d naturally progressed through time,” he said.

  I considered this, trying to comprehend what he was alluding to. Apparently, Jules grasped it first.

  “Are you saying that if someone were to send a person through, say, twenty years into the future, that said person might not ever make it back to our timeline as we know it?” Jules asked, not mentioning Lom, but not needing to.

  Fontem nodded. “That’s correct.”

  I felt as though I’d been slapped. All these years of worrying about Lom’s imminent return when Jules was twenty, and now what? “Are you certain?” I asked.

  “As certain as I am that we’re speaking to one another this very moment.” Fontem set his hands on the table and smiled at me.

  “I have to be honest with you. I used this Delineator to send someone away. A powerful man, Lom of Pleva, was after me. He was behind the hybrids the Kraski used to infiltrate our people on Earth for their takeover, and he’s had his fingers in most of the catastrophic events over the decades. I meant to send him far into the future, but in the heat of the moment, with my life at stake, I only managed to throw him twenty years down the line. Are you telling me I may never see him again?” I asked.

  “The odds of him being in the same location, when the time comes, are next to infinitesimal.”

  Jules stood, and I knocked my chair over lunging at her, pulling her into a hug. “All those years of concern he was going to return, all the sleepless night worrying about Jules and my family.” I kissed the top of her head, and she was crying, her tears dampening my uniform.

  “Papa, we’re free from the future,” she said.

  “Wait. I still need to know more. The device. Someone took it from my hiding spot,” I told him, and his eyes grew wide.

  “You lost it?” His words were drawn out and quiet.

  “I did. No one but me or my daughter should have been able to reach it, but we think they did it with a clone.”

  “Everyone thinks it will save them, but it brings nothing but heartache. You’re better without it,” he said.

  “Wait. What about moving back in time?”

  “That’s where things get tricky.” Fontem tensed, his lips sealing.

  “Explain,” I urged.

  “With the future, it hasn’t happened yet, so our decisions will affect it. The past has occurred, and for any given present, the past is known. The line is straight. You can return to any time and find your way to the present once again.”

  “But what of the changes they make? Do those affect our present?” Jules asked.

  Fontem shook his head. “No. They would create a new timeline, one we would call another dimension. We’d never be aware, because we’d continue to live our lives here.”

  My head was beginning to hurt thinking of it. “Are you telling me that if I went back in time, I could choose the place, do anything I wanted, and return to the timeline I originated from instead of the newly adjusted dimension?”

  “That’s the only one you can return to,” he said. “As per the start of the conversation, time is capricious, and not even a device created by a powerful distant and ancient race’s protégé can affect us all. We each are living in our own timelines to an extent, so whatever you do in the past, Dean, or you, Jules, cannot undo what’s already been done by this present. Does that make sense?”

  “Possibly.” I had a lot to consider but hadn’t pieced together how my clone came into play here. The good news was that I might never cross paths with Lom again, just like the Iskios Vortex was gone forever.

  Jules was back in her seat, staring at Fontem. “Tell me of the Zan’ra.”

  “I mentioned races unable to avoid the powerful ancient ones, right?” Fontem asked.

  “That’s right.” Jules nodded.

  “The Zan’ra were essentially touched by a god. Given powers they never should have had, and when the others found out what had been done, each of the Zan’ra were hunted down and destroyed.” Fontem clapped his hands together.

  “No they weren’t,” Jules said.

  “No. Four escaped without a trace. As these gods died off, forgotten in the grand universe, they hid, or so the tales go.” Fontem’s gaze settled on the stacks of books on the table.

  “I think I’m one of them,” Jules told him, and he looked dubious.

  “Is that so? How could you, born of Dean and Mary, be a Zan’ra?” he asked.

  �
��Have you noticed my glowing eyes? I was the one who fixed the portals when the Theos inside failed. I used a portal stone with no table or symbols… I can… do this.” Jules sent a sphere around her, her chair flying halfway across the library in a clatter. She floated, her hair lifting behind her like she was under water.

  I watched this with an odd sort of pride and fear, intertwined into one. Fontem was speechless for a brief moment.

  “I knew it. Regnig mentioned something, and those eyes. The stories I’d heard in snatches about you were too wild to believe, but here you are. What else can you do?” he asked, and I saw Jules’ face slacken before turning to a frown.

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “Perhaps you’re right. Have you ever met another Zan’ra? I’ve read they were always linked to their own.”

  “I don’t understand,” Jules said, extinguishing her energy sphere. She stood there, a normal girl once again.

  I’d forgotten about the symbol we’d spoken of only a day ago. “Fontem, show her your drawing.”

  “The drawing? Oh yes, the one from the cache on the hunk of rock… Where did I leave that?” He fumbled through stacks of papers, moving books to the side, and picked up a loose leaf, passing it to Jules.

  “Four circles and an X through them. This is it! The one from that planet!” she exclaimed.

  This was all too much for us to handle. We were supposed to be on Light, being a crew, completing missions for the Alliance, but we were being tugged in different directions. My family came first, and Jules was my priority.

  Fontem clasped his hands together. “What planet?”

  “I went there a while ago. Saw the icon in my mind and didn’t have a choice. That symbol was over their ancient destroyed cities. Four craters, buildings making the X shapes. It was under the ocean. It wants me to free it.” Jules still stood, and I rose from my seat, staring at the Terellion across from us.

  “I think we’ve found our long-lost god that created the Zan’ra,” Fontem said.

  Twelve

  “Sir, we’re approaching Oliarn Dian. Slowing to in-system engines,” Sergo said. I blinked, clearing my focus as I set the tablet in the side pocket of my chair.

 

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