53
The Great Auk rose away from Carner’s Post. Mick peered out of the rear porthole, watching the speck of the old man and Sera disappear below. XJ crept up behind him.
“Mick—would you like to play chess?”
“Set it up.”
“Excellent!”
“I’ll be right back.”
Mick passed XJ, heading through the main artery of the ship. He passed GR, peaked into Axa’s room: she lay asleep, recovering, her arms still mounted to a wall med-unit. FOD sat in the cockpit, pulling the ship into orbit.
“The grav’s going to catch. Sit down,” FOD said.
Mick obeyed and sat in the copilot chair. “We need to talk.”
“Talk,” FOD said.
“What exactly are you using me for?”
“You really want to know? Wouldn’t you—”
“Yes. I want to know.”
“I’ve been tracking you since the anomaly. Trying to get to you. I need you to get a measure of a synthetic radioactive isotope for me.”
“I figured something like that—but I don’t care what I’m getting you. What’s the end goal here?”
“I’m going to end everything.”
“Go on,” Mick said, studying the indifferent cheeks of his pilot, whose hood drooped around the neck.
“Human kind is a mistake.”
He’s a philosopher. A mindless agent of death. Failed protector of Sera. Promise-maker. His ability to keep them, questionable.
“How so?” Mick asked.
The ship jerked into low orbit, then into the vacuum of space. Stars filled the viewscreen. The radar blipped: a tiny dot appeared far on the edge of its screen.
“That’ll be the first scout,” FOD said.
“Don’t change the subject,” Mick said, resentment swelling.
Fancy ship, reading minds, fattened wallet—made that way from expancapacitor assassinations carried out by pawns—coupled with an inability to carry out a single directive—protect Sera—to, with all that tech, not overlook an extra man on board a ship. One guy.
“We’ll be quick to die if I fall off task. You wouldn’t want to die before you get home?”
“Am I under your protection now?”
“There was no way to know. I told her to stay back. She didn’t listen.”
Anger throbbed through Mick. XJ appeared at the door.
“Mick—the game is all set up,” he said.
“Give me a couple minutes XJ,” Mick said.
“But Mick, GR is bothering me. I’d really—”
“I’m in the middle of something, hold on.”
“In fact, we all are. We’re in the middle of an assault,” FOD said. “XJ, make sure Axa and GR are strapped in. Then strap yourself.”
FOD jerked the pilot rod down, punched the accelerator.
“I want to talk with you—truly—but it will have to wait. I may need your help here,” FOD said.
Another blip appeared on the radar screen. Then another. Suddenly there were twelve dots on the radar, each a UCA ship jogging fast toward The Great Auk.
Don’t get hot Mick—Home is still in the cards. Follow his lead. He’s your only shot anyway.
“Whatever you need,” Mick said.
“I can’t outrun them, so I’m going to have to—oh no.”
“What do you mean you can’t outrun them? Isn’t this a military super ship?” Mick asked.
FOD whispered to himself: “I see, just see, skyward, great cloud-masses; Mournfully, slowly they roll, silently swelling and mixing; With, at times, a half-dimm’d, sadden’d, far-off star—”
“Quit the riddles for fuck’s sake. What’s happening?” Mick watched the radar blips peel off the The Great Auk, changing direction.
“Poor man,” FOD said.
Mick looked out the porthole. The atmosphere of Carner’s Post lit with gold fire, then white clouds spread over it, a wave smothering the entire world. He closed his eyes. Visions of the explosion flickered into his imagination. When he opened them, the planet was gone.
“They’ll be after us presently,” FOD said. He jammed a button on his console, punched another, then tore the pilot rod around in a half circle. XJ squealed from the back of the ship.
“They’ve got planet killers?”
“Portable ones. Quantum bombs are incredible, aren’t they?”
“XJ said quantum warfare is outlawed.”
“Law is propaganda. It always has been.” FOD turned to look at Mick. “You sure you want to go home?”
“Yes. Now out fly these ships.”
“No guarantees.”
“Listen—Sera promised her family she’d get them to Utopia. She’s dead, so now that promise is mine.”
“She never asked you to—”
“I’m taking it from her. So I need a guarantee right now.”
The swarm of blips on the radar multiplied, then turned toward The Great Auk. Their speed increased.
“FOD—I need a guarantee.”
“I said I’d need your help. Get down to the engine room—now.”
54
“He’s a fucking terrorist. Force of Darkness—The Singularity—he’s got a bunch of names. And he’s planning to create a G10 quantum black hole—do you understand what I’m telling you?” roared UCA Space Fleet General Sirma.
“What about this planet—we traced a cargo drop—some back rock called Carner’s Post?” replied the Captain’s voice.
“Bomb it—god knows what he’s doing there—what he’s setting into motion.”
“General—to confirm—that’s a Q-drop on Carner’s Post?”
“Drop and follow. I swear to god, if this son-of-a-bitch gets away, it’s your head. But it’s all of ours.”
“Underway, General.”
“You’ve got an entire cohort, don’t you?”
“We do. Drop time is two minutes.”
“So there’s no excuse—do not lose him—understood?”
“How long until the garrison joins us, General?” came another voice from the Captain’s ship.
“Not soon enough. Do not lose him. Do you understand? He’s planning to create a G10 quantum black hole, I repeat—we’re all dead if you lose him.”
“Understood—will report back as we approach.”
“And watch rear cannon fire from his ship.”
“Roger.”
The General snapped off communications with his distant battalion. He turned to his second-in-command, then looked at a picture on his desk: his wife and two daughters stared up at him.
“So he did steal it then?”
“The ship?”
“The Auk?”
“Looks that way.”
“I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but they’re not taking it, even with a cohort—not unless—Jesus, General, there’s no other way. You’re going to have to suicide that entire squad. They’ll need to get in reach and drop the biggest Q in the fleet, running at flank speed. That’s the only way.”
The General contemplated the decision, pondering the many lives it would take to finally bring down FOD.
“Not a word until they’re in range.”
An engineer came into the room, confirming the second-in-command’s fears:
“Sir—The Great Auk is equipped with near-field magnetic disintegrator engines. If they work, the only way to destroy him is to—” the engineer paused, hesitant to overstep his rank.
“We know. Go back to your office and pray to your god. That’s what I’ll be doing.”
55
“Oh dear,” said XJ. From where he was strapped to the wall, which he’d done himself using cargo cables, he watched the chess table. Pawns slid off one by one. The ship jostled back and forth. A tremor rocked them and the whole table spilled.
“There’s always something to upset my games. Sera!” XJ called.
“She’s not here anymore XJ. Don’t you at least remember that much?” GR said from across the bay. A wre
nching sound reverberated from the engine room. Mick shouted but they couldn’t hear what he said.
“What do you mean, she’s not here anymore?” XJ said.
“She died, she died when she boarded the Fogstar. She was so good to you and you can’t even remember that she’s gone,” GR said.
“GR—I must unstrap myself. You are getting out of hand.”
“Do not unstrap—he ordered us to stabilize ourselves, didn’t he?”
“Your alzeimagnetism is progressing faster than I thought. Sera will need to tinker with your central processor.” The queen rolled past, hit the bay door, popped up into the air and disappeared behind some crates. “Oh dear!”
The entire ship vibrated.
“Spacequake,” shouted XJ. Large cargo boxes tumbled, rose into the air. XJ’s bindings ripped. He flew across the room, smacking into a stairwell, bending its banister.
“Are you okay?” GR said after the shaking had stopped. “XJ?”
“Quite alright. Now, to set this board up again.”
56
A voice crackled throughout The Great Auk: “This is UCA Captain Greiz. This is your one and only warning: turn off your engines and surrender. If you do not comply, you will be blown out of the sky. I repeat, if you do not comply, we will shoot you down.”
“Want to test him?” Mick joked through the com.
“Are you in the engine room?” asked FOD.
“Yea. Talk to me.”
“This ship has a manual control panel for near-field disintegrators. I need you to find it.”
“Tell me where to look.”
“Look at the ceiling, follow the blue pipe shaped like an L.”
Near-field disintegrators? Mick saw the piping, followed it.
“Here,” he replied.
“See the yellow knobs? There should be three of them.”
“Yea.”
“Press them.”
Mick punched the tiny buttons. A panel door shot open. Inside was a large cylindrical lever.
“The lever should be in the off position. Flip it now.”
In this age, why the fuck is this manual?
“Because near-field disintegrators aren’t stable Mick. You can’t leave them on. You don’t want them accidentally tripping either.”
“Alright, lever is up.”
“Good. You better get back here and bolt yourself down.”
57
“There is no other way,” repeated General Sirma.
“But sir, there has to be something else.”
“Captain Greiz, you are directly ordered to release your grade 4 Q-charge. Would you rather save yourself so your family dies tomorrow?” Sirma replied.
“Sir...”
He was unable to decide: to suicide the whole battalion was unthinkable—but if it really was FOD, if the story was true, then the General was right.
A G10 quantum black hole—the unfathomable. A universe killer. A reset switch for the entire human race, and everything it had spread to consume.
A scuffle sounded through the com.
“What the hell is going on? Captain!” Sirma yelled.
“General Sirma, this is your lieutenant. The Captain is relieved. He wasn’t prepared to follow your order.”
“Good job, Lieutenant. Your family will know about this. I promise. Now blow that fucker to hell.”
“Roger that. We are go for grade 4 Q-drop.”
The general thought of the calls he would make: Poor lot. All of that life, a waste. All for the sake of stopping a vigilante, an extremist, a terrorist. It must be done. There is no other choice.
58
“So what’s your name?” Axa asked in the cabin of the Fogstar as it lifted off Organ World.
“Name? I’m a number. AY512.3.”
“I can’t believe we’re leaving—we’re going to get killed.”
“Better than what we had, right?”
“I’d never thought about it before. I never questioned it like you do.”
“Well it’s time to start. We only have a little bit of time before everything ends. And here’s what we’ve got to do.”
“What do you mean everything ends?”
“I told you—the Force of Darkness—the most wanted terrorist in the history of the UCA?”
“Never heard of him. You know there’s no news on Organ World.”
“I know—well—I didn’t either. Until I met him.”
“What?”
“He sought me out. Bribed his way in. Needs me to hunt down some Joe in the Bessel system while he works on this G10 black hole.”
“G10 black hole?”
“An everything ender.”
“What’s he want with you? You’re just meat for some off-rock oligarch.”
“He said I have a completely moddable circ system, something to do with how they make organ bodies.”
“So that you can nab this guy for him?”
“Yea—only we’re not going to nab him—we’re going to kill him, steal what he’s got, and go to Utopia.”
“You’re going to screw most wanted terrorist?”
“Yea.”
“Doesn’t sound bright.”
“He’s going to succeed whether I help him or not. It’s hard to explain. He could read my mind. He turned it on, filled it up. I went inside his head.”
“This is all too fucking crazy. Turn around. I’m not going on a death run.”
“I need you.”
“No you don’t.”
“Organs don’t have zone permits. FOD said that no sexbot would protest leaving Organ World, to pick any one. I picked you.”
“You believe Utopia is a real, and we can get in?”
“If this—Mick, I think—and his partner—have the money FOD says they do, then yes. We’ll get in.”
“What’s FOD want with him?”
“He said he didn’t have a plant.”
“Everyone has a plant, it’s in your genes.”
“I know. I can’t explain. But he needs him to finish off the black hole business. And I’m not going to Utopia so I can enjoy it for a couple days and then get sucked into a black hole.”
“Why’s he want to make it so bad?”
“Don’t know, don’t care. I’ll tell you what—I’m having the time of my life,” AY512.3 said, smiling.
“Yea,” Axa looked out the porthole window: the vast beauty of open space, a sight she hadn’t seen in years, engulfed her spirit. The scar of her past, Organ World, receded behind them.“Me too.”
“Anyone asks, we’re husband and wife.”
“They still do that?”
“Marriage? Seems they do some places. And it’s going to be our ticket through the zones.”
59
“Everything good?” Mick asked as he strapped back into the cockpit chair next to FOD.
“Yes sir. None of their weapons can breach a near-field disintegrator.”
“Tech’s changed since my time.”
“You have no idea,” FOD said with disgust.
“Thought you enjoyed the tech—flying this top-secret bird and all?”
“Enjoy? I’ll enjoy the quiet when it’s here—nothing else.”
Strange one. Not the time to pick his apocalypse-driven mind. Sera had an edge, but she had feeling. She was still real. This guy—spouting poetry, a puzzle, detached. He’s lost his compassion for humans.
“We can talk once we get out of this,” FOD said, glancing at the radar. The UCA ships, a swarm of blips, crawled closer.
“They’re moving in fast,” Mick said anxiously. “You okay in the back?”
The com crackled: “We are fine Mick.” It was XJ. “Had a little spill. Nothing so broken it can’t be fixed. Of course, I can’t say the same for our chess pieces. Some are missing.”
“There’ll be plenty of time to find them.”
He’ll have me in Utopia, won’t he? It won’t be me, but it will: what’s the difference between a me-projected-by-his-imagi
nation and the actual me? Who’s to say? Why go home, then? Karen will be the same in Utopia. The boys, Selby, identical. Never know the difference. Hell—even Sera would be there.
“You don’t want to stay,” FOD said. “It’s not the same. Utopia is a lie. Besides that, I’m going to destroy it. Where you’re going, you’ll still have over a thousand years before the end hits.”
“You really think you can end everything?”
“End is inaccurate. Restart. I’m going to restart the universe, and hope humans never rise into existence again.”
“How the hell do you get so bent that you—” Mick froze, watching FOD whip around, frantically search the computer terminal in front of him.
“This is no good,” FOD muttered.
“What?”
“Near-field is working, but they’re not arming anything near-field can stop.”
“What do you mean?”
“They’re suiciding. With a grade 4 Q.”
“4 Q?”
“See that dot?” FOD said, pointing to a slow-moving signature on the radar screen, drifting out from the mass of UCA ships.
“Yea.”
“It’s a Q-bomb. It’s going to take us and their entire fleet with it.”
“They’re sacrificing an entire fleet for you?”
“They’ve figured out what I’m up to.”
“So what the fuck do we do?” Mick said.
“Is everything okay?” XJ said from the hull. No one answered him.
“We have a minute, then it explodes. We have two options.”
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