Dark Space: Avilon

by Jasper T. Scott

  Be safe my son. I’ll be there soon. . . .

  Chapter 22

  An alarm woke Atton at exactly 0400, right after Sync was supposed to end. He blinked, his eyes still bleary with sleep. He couldn’t remember having dreamed anything in particular last night. For the first time in what seemed like forever, he felt rested.

  Atton lay awake and staring up at the ceiling, waiting for the room to snap into focus. As it did so, he saw a wan golden light slowly rising in the room, like an artificial sun. He yawned, and tried to cover it with the hand lying on his chest. When that hand didn’t move, and his real one encountered a pair of naked breasts, he realized that he hadn’t slept alone.

  He rolled to that side and came face to face with Ceyla. Her blue eyes were wide and bright in the light of her ARCs.

  Suddenly the events of the previous night came back to him, and he smiled. He couldn’t remember waking up with a smile on his face . . . ever.

  “Hey,” Ceyla said in a small voice.

  Atton cleared his throat. “Hey.”

  Her lips were a tempting target. Despite the night they’d had, desire was already stirring inside of him.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, leaving the good morning kiss for later. He hoped there would be a later.

  “I’m okay. What about you?”

  Atton hesitated. Small talk wasn’t going to get them anywhere. He wasn’t sure how much time they had, so he just went for it. “Come with me. You’re a pilot, Ceyla, a fighter. You won’t be happy living a civilian life, and you can’t join the Peacekeepers as a Null.”

  Ceyla’s eyes flashed angrily and she sat up, turning her back to him in one smooth motion so that he caught only a glimpse of her breasts before she shut her robe.

  Atton’s heart sank. Her reaction said it all.

  Ceyla turned to him then, her shimmering white robe now sealed all the way up to her neck. “You used me.”

  “What?” He blinked. “You threw yourself at me!”

  “Because I thought maybe you needed a reason to live! I was stupid enough to think that I could be that reason.”

  “I’m going to live. I’m going to live forever.”

  “That’s what you say.”

  Atton reached for her hand, but she withdrew it and stood up from the bed.

  “Ceyla . . .”

  “You can’t have it all, Atton! You have to choose—me, or . . .” She gestured helplessly to their surroundings and her lips twisted into a bitter smile. “Or Omnius’s lies.”

  “He’s not lying to us, Ceyla. He’s just telling us everything he knows as honestly as he can. He can’t tell us that we might have souls or that there might be a life after this one if he has no proof of that. That would be the lie. He’s still a bot at heart, and he’s too logical for such a thing as faith.”

  “Faith can’t be reasoned, Atton, only felt.”

  “Ceyla . . .” Atton took a deep breath. “Is there any way you would agree to come with me?”

  “Even if I did, it wouldn’t be me that goes, and I’m not willing to commit suicide.”

  “Then wait for me. I’ll be back. You can at least be sure of that. Once Dark Space is free and the Sythians are defeated, I’ll join you in the Null Zone. I’ll leave it all behind. Until then I’ll visit as often as I can.”

  Some of the anger left Ceyla’s gaze, and she sunk back to the bed, her eyes shimmering with tears. She bit her lower lip and shook her head. “No, Atton. Don’t. I can see how that looks like a big sacrifice to you, and maybe even a fair trade—me for eternity. But the truth is it’s not fair to either of us. If your clone has a chance to live forever, he shouldn’t give that up for me, because he won’t have a chance to see me in the next life. As for me, whoever I decide to marry, I don’t just want to be with them here and now, I want to be with them in the next life, too. You’ll be dooming me to an eternity of loneliness and despair. You won’t be able to join me where I’m going.”

  Atton frowned, confused by her reasoning. “How do you know my clone won’t have a soul? Maybe the Etherus you believe in will take pity on us.”

  “And allow two different versions of you to live in Etheria? Why not ten? Or twenty? In fact, what’s stopping Omnius from cloning you a million times? Then would all one million of you get to spend eternity in Etheria when you do eventually decide to die?”

  “I don’t think Omnius would clone any one person that many times simultaneously, but hypothetically—why not? We’d all be unique individuals, having departed from the version of me they were cloned from at the moment they began living parallel lives. If this Etherus of yours is a good god, then he’ll judge each of us on our individual merit.”

  “Okay, so which one of you do you suppose I’ll be with in Etheria? Maybe I’ll just choose the one with the personality I like best. What if that one isn’t you? Even if I just have to choose between just two of you—the original, and the clone, which one do I pick? Who’s the real Atton? Maybe I spend eternity with both of you and you’ll have to compete for my attention.”

  “I . . .”

  “There are a lot of paradoxes and dilemmas along the lines of what you’re about to do, and none of them end well for you. In the end they all make your existence look and sound hollow. All the clones living on Avilon are more like organic bots than real living humans.”

  “I’m not doing this for me, Ceyla. I’m doing it so that someone else won’t have to. The Sythians need to be stopped. If your Etherus is as good as you seem to think he is, he’ll see my sacrifice, and he won’t allow me to be punished for it.”

  Some of the tears shimmering in Ceyla’s eyes spilled to her cheeks and Atton winced. He reached out and wiped one of them away with his thumb.

  Ceyla’s lower lip began to tremble and she shook her head. “You said you loved me. How can you just leave me after that? Frek the Sythians, Atton! Haven’t they taken enough from you?”

  Something inside of his chest began to ache and Atton swallowed thickly. “The war is all I know. I won’t be able to settle down and live my life until it’s over. I wake up every morning feeling like a failure and go to bed every night expecting to wake up to people screaming and dying all around me. I still remember the invasion like it was yesterday.”

  “What you’re talking about is post-traumatic stress. You need counseling for that, not more trauma and stress.”

  Atton shrugged. “It helps me sleep at night to know I’m doing my part to end the war.”

  “The war might never be over, Atton. There’s countless trillions of Sythians out there.”

  “Then I’ll have all eternity to defeat them.”

  “I won’t be around to see that.”

  “Yes, you will. I’m not leaving you down here. Please come with me.”

  “You can’t take me with you, and I don’t want to go.”

  He shook his head, and she leaned in toward him. Her hands found his face and her lips found his in a soft, fragrant kiss that smelled like her. He lost himself in that moment, breathing her in desperately. Then it was over and something inside of him broke. His eyes began to burn, and the world grew blurry.

  “Goodbye, Atton.” She rubbed his cheeks and smiled ruefully at him. “I guess you’re not made of ice, after all.”

  Before he could reply to that, the door to their room opened, and a familiar-looking Peacekeeper poked his head in. “It’s time,” Master Rovik said.

  Atton nodded. “Just give us a minute.”

  “I’ve already waited ten. The two of you are breaking Omnius’s heart. He had hoped things would turn out differently.”

  Ceyla flashed the Peacekeeper a sardonic grin. “Really? I thought he already knew how we’re going to choose?”

  “Just because you can read any part of a book doesn’t mean you want to start by reading the end. Now come. The others are already making their choices.”

  * * *

  The choosing ceremony was not what Ethan had expected. They were all w
hisked away to a large, circular chamber with high, vaulted ceilings. On the walls all around the circumference of the room were more light paintings depicting different scenes, what looked like snapshots of human lives. Each painting had one human figure as a subject, but it was just their silhouette, a shadow. The rest of the scene was painted in bold strokes of color. There were scenes of glory and triumph on colorful alien fields of battle, men and women standing together in arms amidst thousands of unidentified bodies. Others showed the scenes from the bridges of giant star cruisers, enemy ships exploding all around. Still others depicted happy families, and scenes of domestic bliss. A few showed scenes of loneliness and despair, of death and privation. Each scene was animated with a few frames to convey its nature.

  Ethan’s eyes fell on a particular painting. There was a male silhouette sitting on a street corner with his head in his hands and an empty bottle beside him. As Ethan watched, the painting came alive. Rain poured down and people passed by, glancing at the man on the curbside. Then a flash of lightning washed the scene away, and suddenly it showed that man lying in bed in the arms of a woman. Ethan stared at the painting, spellbound by it.

  Suddenly the man’s black, featureless face took form—it was his. The woman lying beside him opened her eyes, and he saw a flash of bright color in her irises—not violet, but turquoise, like those of the woman from last night’s dream.

  A hand found his and squeezed. The spell broken, Ethan shivered and looked away.

  Alara’s violet gaze was full of concern. “Are you okay?”

  He shook his head. “Not really, no. I had a bad dream last night.”

  “So did I.”

  He tilted his head to one side. “What was yours?”

  They heard approaching footsteps from the direction they’d come and turned to see Rovik walk in. Atton and Ceyla came in behind him. Ethan’s eyes flicked to Atton then Ceyla, and he realized that they weren’t walking next to each other and they weren’t holding hands. That either meant he’d been wrong about what they’d been doing last night, or it hadn’t worked. Either way, he was about to say goodbye to his son.

  Ethan turned away with a furrowed brow, and Alara shook her head. “I’ll tell you later.”

  Rovik walked to the front of the group. Behind him lay a shadowy section of wall with no light paintings hanging there. As the Peacekeeper stopped and turned to face them, that dark section of wall became suddenly radiant with light. Two doors appeared, one beside the other. One was narrow and glowing bright gold, while the other was wide and glowing a bloody red. To either side stood a pair of Omnies, the red eyes in the center of their heads glowing to life.

  “Welcome to Choosing Day,” Rovik said. “To your left lies the way to the Null Zone. To your right lies Etheria. All around you, hanging on the walls, are scenes that Omnius has drawn from your probable futures, based on the decisions you’ve all already made. No doubt one painting in particular has already caught your eye. That is no coincidence. That scene is yours, drawn from your future. For some of you, it is Omnius’s last warning, while for others it is something to look forward to. Whatever the case, be sure that you choose wisely. Some people go to the Null Zone and die the next day. Others go to Etheria only to leave soon afterward. I hope that all of you will be satisfied with your choice, and I wish you all the best in your new lives. This is the end of our journey together.

  “It has been my pleasure to watch some of you grow and open your minds to the possibilities of life in Avilon. Be sure that you don’t later lose your way. Take it from one who has ascended and fallen and then returned to the truth.”

  Rovik turned and gestured to the gold-glowing door on the right. “Those of you who have chosen Etheria, please approach the door. Single file.”

  For a moment nothing happened, but then the group of refugees surged forward. Ethan watched, horrified as roughly two thirds of the group formed a long line toward the door. Atton lingered near the back of the line, his eyes on Ceyla, one hand held out to her. She refused to even look at him. Ethan grimaced and shook his head. Then Atton caught his eye.

  “You’ll be happier,” Atton said.

  Ethan shook his head. “Save it, Atton.”

  His son looked away, and the line began to move forward. As each of them reached Rovik, he shook their hands and welcomed them with a smile before ushering them toward the narrow, golden door. That door swallowed each of them with its dazzling light, making it impossible to see where they went.

  When it came to Atton’s turn, his son cast one final, backward glance at the people he was leaving behind. He waved. Ethan winced and looked away once more.

  Then they were all gone, off to kill themselves so they could live forever.

  Rovik turned to the remaining people, his eyes skipping over the scattered group. Ethan noticed that besides him, Alara, and Ceyla, there were just two others. He didn’t recognize either of them. Ceyla was hugging herself as if she were desperately cold. Ethan frowned, about to ask her to come stand beside them, but Alara beat him to it, leaving his side to go get the other woman. They stood together. Alara held one of Ceyla’s hands and said, “You’re not alone.”

  Rovik fixed them with a steely gaze. “I had hoped none of you would choose the Null Zone. It’s not too late to change your minds. Now that you know who has left, you can choose to go with them.”

  Ethan noticed that the Peacekeeper was looking at Ceyla as he said that. “No thanks,” Ethan said for all of them. “Let’s get on with it, Blue.”

  “Very well.” Rovik turned to the glowing red door on the left. “The Null Zone awaits you.”

  Their little group started toward the door. Ethan was first in line, but Rovik put up an arm, blocking his way. “What’s going on?”

  “One at a time,” he said.

  “What?” Ethan’s eyes narrowed, feeling suddenly suspicious. “I’m not going in without my wife.”

  “You’ll see her in just a few minutes, assuming neither of you changes your mind.”

  “I thought we get to make our choice by going through the door.”

  “No, that’s just the first step. After that you make your choices in private, in order to avoid any pressure from your peers.”

  Ethan shook his head. “And what exactly do we see through that door?”

  Master Rovik shrugged. “That is different for everyone. Omnius usually issues warnings about the future to help you avoid making certain key mistakes.”

  “And tries to convince us to go to Etheria.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “That’s not fair. If he really cared about giving us the freedom to choose he wouldn’t try to bias our choices.”

  “Biasing someone with the truth isn’t really bias. If you knew your wife were going to die in an accident tomorrow, would you tell her, or let her die?”

  “That’s a stupid question,” Ethan growled.

  “If you didn’t love her, you would keep quiet. It is the same with Omnius. He cannot allow you to walk into disaster if he loves you, but by becoming Nulls you are telling him to leave you alone. Before he does, he will warn you one last time.”

  “All right that’s enough preaching,” Ethan growled. He turned to Alara and took both of her hands in his. “I’ll go first. You already know I’m not going to change my mind, so all you have to do is join me.”

  Alara looked torn, but she nodded, and he turned back to the Peacekeeper. “I’m ready.”

  Rovik gave him a grim look and shook his head. “No, you’re not.”

  Chapter 23

  Rovik lowered his arm, and Ethan walked cautiously toward the broad, red-glowing door. It cast a bloody light on him as he drew near. The drone standing beside the door turned its matching red eye on him, watching his every step as he approached. Upon reaching the door, it hissed slowly open, revealing a corridor as dark as death. Ethan waited, trying to pierce the gloom and see what lay beyond the door. His ARCs responded by amplifying the available light in the room, but
that only made the red glow coming from the frame of the door brighter. Whatever lay beyond the threshold remained cloaked in shadows, as if Omnius wanted to scare them away. Ethan started toward the unknown.

  “Ethan, wait!” It was Alara.

  He turned to her with a lopsided grin that was meant to be reassuring. It did nothing to diminish the panic in her eyes. He blew her a kiss. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “I love you,” she replied.

  “Me, too.”

  Ethan walked into the darkness. No sooner had his foot crossed the threshold than something grabbed him and pulled him off his feet. He cried out, taken off guard. He felt himself being carried—no, floating—down an impossibly dark corridor.

  A deep, resonant voice spoke out of the darkness. “Hello, Ethan.”

  “Omnius,” he replied. “You can put me down, you know. I can walk.”

  “Can you? You’re in utter darkness. You can’t see where you’re going.”

  “I’m sure I’ll find my way.”

  “As you wish.”

  Ethan felt a brief falling sensation—

  Smack.

  He hit the cold hard floor; his teeth clacked together, and he bit his tongue. Then came the ferrous tang of blood. Ethan cursed and pushed off the floor. “You could have let me down gently.”

  This time there was no reply.

  He scowled and started forward, his hands outstretched and groping in the dark. At first it was disorienting, but each time his hands found walls, he turned the other way, and soon he stopped running into them.

  “Where’s this go?” he asked.

  Again, no answer.

  He went on, picking up the pace, impatient to get out of the dark.

  Suddenly Ethan’s feet touched air and he tipped forward. He put out his hands reflexively but they touched air, too, and he began to tumble as he fell. His stomach lurched and wind rushed past him in the dark. He screamed despite himself. “Hey! You sick frek!”

  Suddenly his momentum began to slow, and he saw a dim red light begin growing all around him. With the light he could see that he was falling down what looked like an open lift shaft. Ethan’s eyes narrowed as he floated to a stop at the bottom. Intellectually he knew that he was caught up in some kind of grav field, but it was still disconcerting to see himself floating above the ground, suspended by an invisible force field.