Megyn closed her eyes. She felt her hand relaxing. She knew that her intestines were going to push through the shredded abdominal wall. But she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore.
It had been a long trek, but Cass Linn’s repaired systems had served her much better than she had expected. She hadn’t suffered any more unexpected or unwanted shutdowns. The repairs that she’d made to her motivational units had been substantial enough to endure the four mile walk. Her power system was working well and halfway through the march the reserve power unit that she was working on began to function. But it was not needed. The augmentations she’d made to the main power unit had made it much stronger and better than before. She didn’t know why this might be the case, but she reasoned that connecting to Oss Linn might have had something to do with her newly acquired skills.
The rainbow had been lost to darkness thirty minutes into the walk. Cass Linn followed flashes of light in the distance. Sounds like gunfire and explosions that accompanied the lightning made her confused, but she kept going. The moonlight was sufficiently bright that she could see the glass reflecting from the old sport’s car’s body and windows. She could see the tangled mess that had once been Commander Muffa. There were other bodies scattered around. She could see three people in total. Only one of them was moving.
“You came,” Megyn Alexander whispered weakly, “I didn’t know if you would.”
Cass Linn almost tripped over the injured woman, but her balance was much better now. She stepped back a pace and looked down at the ground.
“Who are you?”
She was bleeding out. She knew it. Death was near, and this time death was going to be forever. She lacked the strength to move. Speaking was all that she could barely manage. Her voice was a soft, barely audible whisper.
“I don’t really know anymore,” Megyn tried to smile, but the muscles of her face no longer worked the way that she wanted to, “But a long time ago… A long, long time ago… I was you.”
“I don’t understand.”
Megyn was starting to look through the metal head and glowing camera eyes. Her vision was blurring.
“It’s alright,” she breathed, “I don’t understand either. Something went wrong. I tried to kill Admiral Jaxx at his father’s church. Many years ago. If I had done it then, things would have been different. Perhaps. I… I don’t know…”
“I don’t understand,” Cass Linn felt frightened, “Please let me help you.”
It took a supreme effort, but now Megyn Alexander managed to smile. Somehow, she managed to move her left hand. She reached up towards the oval, metal face. She didn’t have enough strength and started to drop her arm, but Cass Linn caught the blood soaked sleeve of her shirt. She held the dying woman gently.
“You are bleeding,” the robot observed, “How can I stop it?”
Cass Linn’s left hand was still repairing itself, but she had the strength to hold Megyn Alexander’s hand. It clutched an object, which the woman released into the palm of the robot’s hand.
“What is this?”
Megyn’s arm was weak.
“It’s… everything I know,” Megyn’s voice rasped in her throat, “You need to take it. But… but don’t look at it until you’re back with… with Oss…”
Megyn Alexander exhaled loudly and slowly. A driblet of blood appeared at the corner of her mouth. She coughed weakly.
“Are you dying? I don’t know what I can do to help you. I don’t understand what you mean. What do you want me to do?”
Megyn’s eyes were fixed. Her brow furrowed a little. She felt confused and distant. Time was slowing down. Normally, everything inside her mind moved so quickly. It was the world outside that moved much slower than she could observe. But now, it felt like the opposite was happening.
“It feels so strange,” she looked directly into the single, glowing eye, “It’s not like before.”
Then her expression changed. A memory, like the faint smell of distant smoke on the wind, passed across her waning consciousness. He eyes pleased for Cass Linn to understand. Then, like a light had been turned off by a switch, the three hundred year old woman was dead.
Cass Linn didn’t realise what had happened. She continued to hold Megyn’s sleeve for a long time. Eventually, the sun began to rise, illuminating the things that she’d been unable to notice before. It happened very quickly compared to the sunrises she enjoyed on the mountain. When she released the dead woman’s arm, it was still and cold. Newly constructed thermal sensors on Cass Linn’s fingertips gave her an inkling that death had occurred. She felt sad, yet again, but not in the same way as she had when her father had died.
The ground was too hard to bury and dry Megyn Alexander. So Cass Linn piled rocks on top of the body until every part of the dead woman was obscured. She did the same thing with other bodies. It took a long time to finish this task. Finding stones that were large enough became a more and more difficult process. But her improved power unit was more than up to the task. It was getting dark again by the time she was ready to head back to the spacecraft.
She remembered what the dying woman had said about the strange artefact that she had handed over. But it made her want to look at it even more. She turned it over in her hand and examined it. The object appeared to be an ordinary, crystal cube enclosed in a silver metal frame. The sensors in her fingertips couldn’t decide what kind of metal the cube was enclosed in, or what kind of material the crystal was made out of. She brought the object close to her eye and stared into it.
By the time Cass Linn’s systems had rebooted, the sun had moved to its mid-day position in the clear sky above. The TR7 was gone, but Cass Linn had never known it was there. The five piles of stone made dim shadows in the dusty earth. Cass turned her back on them and started back towards the ship. She didn’t look up at the stars. She was frightened to do so, as she felt there wasn’t time for another forced sleep if her systems overloaded yet again. But if she had looked up, she might have noted that the star at the tip of the arrow was no longer shining.
TWENTY NINE
2195AD - SOTF Wreckage.
She dreamed that she was dead. And the real nightmare was waking up. For, in waking, the darkness and the loneliness were much more terrifying. And the cold was unbearable. She shivered despite being buried beneath every item of clothing she had brought with her and the three space age blankets she’d clawed from the bed in the darkness. In her dreams, it was still cold. But not as cold as the lonely reality she found herself in.
She kept her eyes closed, hoping that the dream would return. She wanted the darkness to overwhelm her again, like the comforting blanket that had become. She hoped that she’d freeze to death, but she didn’t realise that there was still a little life left in the batteries that powered the emergency life support systems. The temperature was low, but there was enough power to keep the air breathable and the room from freezing solid for another four days. She would be asphyxiated once the emergency power was exhausted, long before there was time for her to freeze.
But she would not die this way. Zoobell Christian was destined to die much more quickly than this. The small box that she was trapped in was one of the last remaining fragments of the Spirit of the Future’s wreckage. For days she’d drifted through space. The small chunk of metal and plastic had drifted closer and closer towards the subjugated world of Relathon, pulled closer and closer by the planet’s gravitational field. Now it was minutes away from hitting the atmosphere.
Her PDA had died a long time ago. But she still kept it nearby. From time to time she had checked to see if it would switch on, but the depleted little computer had no power left in it. But now she was only vaguely surprised to see its screen light up.
She picked it up quickly, knocking over a half-eaten packet of mixed nuts that she’d been rationing. Her heart sank when she saw that the screen was pure, bright white. But then she laughed reflexively when the familiar smiling face appeared.
“Miss Christian,
I have a call for you.”
She didn’t hesitate for a moment. She pressed the answer button even as her mind registered the fact that the Caller Id was displayed as, simply, Unknown.
“This is Zoobell Christian!” she shrieked, “I’m here! Thank God! Oh thank God! I’m here!”
There was silence. A long silence broken only by the occasional hollow pop and crackle. Then there was a voice. She felt her heart leap to her mouth when the man spoke.
“I am here now. Everything is going to be alright.”
She felt a cold shiver run down her spine. She recognised the voice, but the tone was emotionless and distant. There was no mistaking the only person she’d spoken to since the accident.
“Jack! Jack you’re alive! Were you rescued? Where are you?”
“I don’t know how to answer that,” Jack Sloane’s voice was calm and quiet, slow and deliberate, “But it feels… good to hear your voice again. Don’t worry, Zoobell. Everything is going to be alright.”
The faint smell of burning was the first warning that Zoobell had. There were many overwhelming smells in the claustrophobic little box, but the smell of smoke and charred plastic was immediately recognisable as something new and something very bad. She turned the PDA around and used its screen to light the darkness. A tiny wisp of smoke was coming from behind the courtesy cabinet that she’d all but emptied of its drinks and goodies.
Immediately the panic grabbed her. She could feel the vibration now as the compartment started to enter the atmosphere. She started to stand up, but her legs were numb. She hadn’t moved for over twenty hours. She couldn’t feel anything below her waist. There were quiet creaks and groans coming from the space behind the little silver cabinet.
“There’s a fire! There… there’s a fire. Are you close? Oh please come quickly!”
The room was starting to shudder. She laughed suddenly. An uncontrollable yelp of joy. As the room shuddered, she imagined a rescue ship hauling her aboard. Jack Sloane would be there waiting for her. He’d be handsome and kind. Tall, and not fat. Strong, but not fierce.
“I’m right here, Zoobell.”
The PDA light died. She dropped the little device. Jack Sloane’s voice was no longer coming from it. He was in the room with her, somewhere. She wanted to pick up the PDA, but she was paralysed by fear.
“I’m scared,” She whispered, “What’s happening? Where are you?”
“I’m here. I’m beside you. There isn’t any need to be afraid. Everything is going to be alright.”
His voice was close, as if he was sitting next to her. She reached out her right arm weakly to feel for him, even though she knew that he couldn’t possibly be there. The smoke made her cough as her hand touched something solid close beside her. She recoiled her hand in shock at the sensation of the hard, warm object. Whatever it was, it was definitely not a human being.
“What are you?” Zoobell coughed, “Who are you?”
“I’m not sure anymore,” the calm voice soothed, “But it doesn’t matter. Everything is going to be okay.”
There was a mighty bump. Zoobell steadied herself with her outstretched arms. She felt pins and needles in her right leg. She still couldn’t feel anything in her left leg. The vibration had intensified. Zoobell realised that the movement in the room meant something other than a rescue was taking place. The smoke inside Zoobell’s room was getting thicker. She couldn’t see it, but the corner behind the refreshments cabinet had begun to glow a dull and deadly orange. The corner of the cabinet was producing the poisonous smoke and fumes.
“What’s happening,” the terrible truth occurred to her as the words tumbled forth. Somehow, she was holding something that seemed to be the shape of a hand, but wasn’t quite, “I’m going to burn!”
There was a loud crack. The outside wall of Zoobell’s room was splitting open. Another loud crack. A high pitched howl was penetrating the disintegrating walls. Zoobell screamed in terror. There was a flash of light next to her as if a camera flash had gone off. But the light did not disappear completely. A glow remained. It was too bright to look at for a second, but Zoobell’s eyes adjusted to the darkness quickly. She gave a small, additional squeak of fear and released the hand that she had been holding. Like the rest of the figure, it had solidified into a man who might have been carved from one enormous diamond.
The crystal entity smiled at her calmly. The face was a rough approximation of the one that Jack Sloane had once worn, but the body was much simpler. Only the hands and feet had any real detail. She coughed in horror as the crystal hand gently picked hers up again. It’s free hand reached towards her face. She pulled back from the shining, crystalline appendage.
“Don’t be afraid,” the voice had softened, but still belonged to Jack Sloane, “You’re not burning up. You’re a shooting star.”
She looked into the face. The being’s eyes were very detailed. She could see the cornea and They blinked and moved as she watched them. It’s mouth continued to smile. A sudden calm came over her. As the crystal hand touched her face, she closed her eyes and gave a long, loud sigh.
The room lurched There was a final, massive screech from the tortured shell of the emergency compartment. The external wall gave way and was turned into a white hot trail of sparks and fire. Instants later, everything else was destroyed in a fifteen mile long trail of fire and light.
2195AD - SS Glasgow.
There was a moan. The amateur scientist was still curled up in the corner next to the jammed conduit hatch. Vinn Apple was lying there too, sleeping peacefully after Brooks had tried and failed to save his eye. Barrett was supposed to be watching over the captain, but Vazquez was watching over them both. Apple wouldn’t wake up for a few hours at least. The sedative Brooks had somehow procured had knocked Vinn out almost instantly, despite his delirious struggling. The exhausted pilot assured Vazquez that Apple would be out for hours. Brooks harboured strong, near delusional hopes that Julian Barrett would manifest some game changing wormhole related skills or knowledge. But for now the quavering super tourist needed to be left alone.
“How you doing over there, Julian?”
“I’m doing a little better now, thanks. A little bit of a shock to the system. Too much excitement for someone… boring like me. Yes, sir. Just a little too much excitement for me,” Barrett was speaking rapidly, almost deliriously. His hair was still damp from his last, precious use of the shower. Brooks had supplied the clean trousers and Barrett’s light frame was swamped by one of Apple’s thick, green cotton shirts. At first glance, Barrett gave the impression of a sulking, lanky prepubescent child swamped by his father’s clothes. “Thank you for asking,” He added subtly.
“You’ll be alright,” Brooks nodded slowly, holding Barrett’s eye, “It takes a little bit of time, is all. Just relax and…” Brooks grinned as he shrugged, “I guess everything will be alright.”
Brooks forced a smile towards Michelle. He badly needed a shower, but he already realised he’d never enjoy such a luxury again. Even with the water recycling units, the Glasgow’s water supply couldn’t last more than two or three weeks. There wouldn’t be any to spare for personal hygiene. But the ship’s power systems would fail long before the water shortage became an issue. There was enough fuel to power the propulsion system for a week. After that the ship would be a piece of floating debris, lost in space forever.
“I wouldn’t be so certain,” Barrett struggled to his feet. His right leg had fallen asleep and he almost fell on top of Vinn Apple as he staggered towards the control column, “These stars here, here and here. These two are part of Cassiopeia. Caph and Schedir.”
“That’s Caph,” Brooks said, “But if that’s the hand , then her chest is way out of whack. It can’t be? Besides, where are the binary stars?”
Barrett examined the small monitor. He touched it gingerly, adjusting the zoom and focus. The screen needed cleaning - Brooks had a habit of resting his coffee mug on it. Barrett pointed his blood covered index finger
at a faint, blue white star.
“I don’t know, but this is the interesting part. These stars here. Well, this whole area looks a whole lot like NGC 457. The Owl Cluster.”
“How can that be possible?” Vazquez butted in, “We’re thousands of light years Gallsin's entry and exit points. Shouldn’t we be somewhere between sector 90 and sector 100?”
“It doesn't work like that,” Barrett said quietly, “Wormholes aren't tunnels through space. They're openings through... folds, for want of a better word, in the fabric of space. These folds have been known to extend thousands of light years beyond the wormhole apertures.”
“And it looks like whatever happened to Gallsin destabilised it so badly we got tossed out,” Brooks interjected, “We could be literally anywhere,” Brooks looked at Barrett and the younger man nodded, licking sweat from his moustache.
“That's right,” Barrett smiled shakily, “It's really quite a terrifying thought.”
There was a long silence. Vazquez looked at Apple. She'd go to him in a minute. Check him out. Make sure he wasn't too hot or cold. But she knew that his injuries weren't life threatening.
“Alright, then I guess we’re pretty far away from home,” Vazquez moaned.
“Pretty far indeed. Far away from just about everything,” Barrett sounded shrill but quickly calmed himself, “We’re... we're probably in a part of space nobody has ever been to before,”
Barrett looked into Vazquez’s eyes. She gave him her lopsided grin and looked before turning to look at Brooks. The silver haired pilot looked tired, but there was a strange brightness in his cool blue grey eyes. Vazquez kept smiling, but Brooks could see the deep coldness and a touch of fear hiding in her delicious, dark brown eyes. Glasgow was floating in emptiness far away from any explored region of space. Nobody had been in this region of space before. Nothing made by man had ever made it this far out. If there was a wormhole leading anywhere it wouldn't be on any of the maps. The ship would run out of fuel or water or food. Then she, Apple, Barrett and Brooks would fade away and die.
Beyond the Starport Adventure (Bullet Book 1) Page 53