by C. Gockel
“There is no beast,” said a consciousness he recognized as Eight.
“He's talking metaphorically, Eight,” said One.
“You can't give him to them,” Eight protested.
“Now is not the ideal time for reveal,” said another gate.
James leaned his head against the ladder. “Giving myself over to the Luddecceans will change the parameters of your calculations,” James said. “One of your own—me—will have given himself for human lives. You will be in a stronger position after my sacrifice.” He exhaled. A sacrifice none of the gates were prepared to make. “You may not get another opportunity like this,” he said. The gates erupted into furious arguments. Eight's thoughts were shrill. “It is unfair to treat him like this.” One's voice was noticeably absent. James closed his eyes. The idea for this bargain had come to him in a bright moment of lucidity after he'd banged his head against the wall. He doubted his mind—or CPU, or whatever—was powerful enough to come up with the idea on its own. Had one of the gates sent the idea to him? Or had he subconsciously used the power of all the gates to devise it?
A thought broke through the buzz. “James, can they make 6T9 like you?” It was Eliza. She hadn't spoken to anyone other than Noa in days.
James blinked in surprise and confusion. “I don't know,” he responded.
“If they could make him like you, 6T9 would be free,” Eliza gushed.
“No one is free,” said James, and he thought of Noa, unable to let him go because she was clinging to the notion that he was part of her crew.
The chronometer sounded an alarm in his mind. From several stories below, one of the Atlantian Guard shouted, “There he is!” And someone else said, “What do we do?”
James opened the door, slipped out into the hallway, and saw a man in full-suit standing just inside the airlock door holding a thruster pack. A light in his mind told him it was Gunny. Jogging over, he took the proffered pack, and stepped with Gunny into the airlock. As James slipped on the pack, Gunny hit the controls to seal the door, cutting off the Atlantian's approach.
“He's really doing it!” he heard one say into the ether.
“I guess you can handle vacuum?” Gunny asked him over the general channel.
James nodded. He felt it was true. “The vacuum won't kill me, but my joints will freeze up. I may need you to point me in the right direction.”
“Which direction is the right way?” Gunny asked.
James's vision flickered. “Right at the cruiser hiding behind the planetoid off the bow. They won't shoot at the Ark with me in the way … and if my understanding of military maneuvers around gates is right, once the time sphere starts to form, they won't fire on the gate or the Ark.”
“No,” Gunny said. “Not if they really want you anyway. Any shot at a time sphere is goin' to go wild with time currents and gravitational distortions.”
“Let's hope they really want me then,” said James, mind starting to dim. If they didn't …
“I don't like this,” Gunny said.
James narrowed his eyes at the sergeant.
“Right,” he muttered. “You like it less. Manuel, depressurize Airlock 1.”
“James, are you sure about this?” the engineer asked.
“No,” James replied. He reached to the gates, still buzzing in argument. “Make up your minds. Do you want data or not?”
“We have thirty seconds to turn him over,” Sterling said.
Manuel's thoughts cracked, “I'm not—”
“He's not human,” said Monica.
“Yes, he is!” Raif cried over the general channel. “Right, James? Manuel, tell them he's human!”
James remembered Raif jumping between him and Wren. The ether put the boy's location as engineering. “Manuel—”
“I'll look after him,” Manuel said. “Don't worry.” There was such finality to the engineer's thoughts, James realized Manuel meant forever, not just for the next few minutes. Manuel thought James's experiments in humanity were genuine displays of affection—James had saved Manuel's son, so now Manuel was prepared to save James's “son.” But Manuel wouldn't be playing like James had been.
Before James could process all of that, numbers began flooding before his eyes. To the general ether, he said, “Ghost, your numbers are coming. Manuel, depressurize the lock, I'm ready now.” Closing his eyes, he let the calculations flow from his mind not just to Ghost, but to everyone on the Ark.
“The Commander's door is locked!” someone thought.
“Sending a med team now,” Monica declared.
“It's only a light stun,” James told them.
“It can't be trusted,” Monica said.
“Don't call him an it, Doctor,” Eliza hissed and James felt Gunny's hand on his shoulder.
There was a whoosh. It seemed as though James's innards were struggling not to be sucked out through his ears, nose, and mouth, but his body held together. Still, he could feel the moisture on his skin, eyes, and in his mouth sizzling away. All sound faded as the air in the lock was replaced by vacuum. James hadn't realized he'd closed his eyes, but when he opened them, he found his face reflected in Gunny's spacesuit's visor.
The sergeant's thoughts cracked over the ether. “You're going to drive me to drink again.” Turning, he opened the outer airlock door. The lights of the Kanakah Cloud appeared framed by the door … meanwhile the numbers from the time sphere computations scrolled above the whole scene in James's mind.
“Inputting calculations as fast as received.” Ghost cried. “Oh, yes … these appear correct so far.”
“Gunny!” Sterling said. “We're out of time.”
“Tell 'em, James is on his way,” Gunny answered, giving his safety line a check.
The gravity was still on, and instead of having to jump or climb, James stepped toward the door, numbers still scrolling through his mind. Noa's channel was still dark. He remembered the human James. When he was a young man, a friend had joined the Fleet and soon thereafter died during the evacuation of S9O3M1. Human James had not taken the time to say goodbye when his friend had shipped out. That failure had haunted the human for the rest of his life. Now James couldn't say goodbye to Noa and knew it would haunt him. He hoped the rest of his life was short.
Feeling his joints start to freeze, and as though his skin were shrinking, James took the last step and reached for Gunny over the ether. “Now.”
He felt Gunny maneuver his body in the right direction. He waited to blast away.
Sterling shouted across the ether, “You're not putting him in a tick?”
Gunny's hands trembled against James. The numbers funneling into James's mind stopped.
“What's going on?” said Ghost. “I'm not done!”
“Their weapons are heating up!” said Sterling.
Noa's mind was still silent. If she called him back …
“Just let me go,” James said to Gunny, using the general channel so all could hear.
“I need more calculations!” Ghost cried.
There was pressure as Gunny pressed buttons on his pack—and then James was released into the black. Across the ether, Gunny whispered, “Allah yawafigik,” and Manuel said, “Yes, may God be with you.”
There was the thrust of acceleration, and he passed over the Ark. There was no sound in his ears, and no wind on his face, just cold. The numbers in his mind came faster than before and he routed them into the Ark's ether.
“He'll be out of range of the time sphere in three point five seconds,” Chavez said.
“I'm almost done!” said Ghost to the general channel.
Over James's private channel came Raif's thoughts. “Why are you doing this?” and then Manuel's. “Thank you, James.” He felt too tired to respond and conform to human niceties. His days of pretending to be human were over.
And then his circuits lit like an old fashioned Christmas tree. Noa's thoughts filled the ether. “James, you slime in a puddle of blue-green algae! What are you doing?”
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The pounding in Noa's head was echoed by the pounding on the door of her quarters. Over the ether, Sterling was shouting, “Commander Sato! Commander, do you copy?”
“I hear you,” she growled into the ether. She was on her stomach, staring at the hologlobe of her great-great-great-something grandparents. Pocketing the device, she clambered to her feet.
“I've got it!” shouted Ghost.
“James is beyond the time sphere,” said Chavez. Noa's eyes widened and in the instant it took for her mind to piece together what those words could mean, her thoughts leapt to his channel. “James, you slime in a puddle of blue-green algae! What are you doing?”
Bright white flooded the mental space between them and his avatar stood in the midst of the glow. There was a smile on his face, and despite everything, his emotions buoyed her own—he was happy.
“How dare you be happy,” she cried, his betrayal and sacrifice twisting in her gut.
“I get to say goodbye, I didn't think I'd get to,” his avatar said, and then he began to flicker.
They were out of time, and she passed the ball of white light through the ether that was their secret kiss before he could disappear.
His smile dropped. “Remember your duty to your crew and stay alive.”
“Sphere expanding!” Chavez said.
James's avatar vanished and Noa's fists tightened at her side. She would remember her duty to her crew and Fleet—she wouldn't forget him, either.
“All hands report,” she ordered collecting herself and striding to the door.
Her crew's thoughts filled her mind as she stepped into the hallway and found herself facing Jun and Bo. Jun was holding a blow torch. Not pausing to question, she stepped past them, calling over the ether, “I want ticks docked on airlocks now.”
“Aye, Commander,” Kara said.
“Forty-five seconds to full diameter.” Chavez thought across the ether.
Noa threw herself into the access tunnel. Moments later, she was sprinting to the helm. Through the skylight and the pearlescent light of the expanding time sphere, she could see James floating toward the planetoid at the edge of the cloud. Her breath caught. An instant later, the bridge was awash with rainbow light, and then she was staring at Earth. A new voice came over the ether. “This is Time Gate One Gate Command. Identify yourselves.”
“This is Commander Noa Sato of the Galactic Fleet commanding the Ark.” Strapping herself into the pilot chair, she said to her crew and passengers, “Report to your designated evacuation airlocks, now.”
Gunny's thoughts interrupted her as she entered new commands into the computer. “I can come with you.” He'd guessed her plan … he knew her so well. “No, Gunny,” she replied. “I need you to help get Eliza out of here. She won't leave willingly without Sixty—”
“I'll throw 'em both on that movin' chair.”
“Bless you,” Noa whispered over the ether.
Unharnessing herself, Chavez said, “Commander, what are you—”
“The Kanakah gate is Fleet property,” Noa said. “I'm going to defend it.” Fleet had ships in Sol System, ready to be deployed within minutes. But as soon as James was retrieved, the Luddecceans would destroy the Kanakah gate in seconds unless she held them off. With a thought she sent off a report she'd prepared to Fleet Command with a request for backup, and then used a special authorization code to request reopening of Time Gate 1.
A voice she didn't recognize replied over her channel, “Request received. Stand by.”
“You've only got two shots,” Sterling protested, jerking his thumb to the cannons.
“Three,” Noa said, running her eyes over the read-outs. The ship had a very effective self-destruct mechanism.
Guessing her logic, Sterling began to protest, “Commander—”
She met his eyes. “Your duty is to your fellow Atlantians. Get them out of here.”
Ensign Chavez's lips were parted as though she was about to protest, too.
“You get the civilians out of here, Ensign,” Noa ordered.
Chavez and Sterling straightened and saluted.
“Go,” Noa said.
The two left the bridge, and Noa waited, and hoped. There was a chance the gate would not be reopened in time.
Gunny's thoughts came over the ether. “We're loaded up and shipping out.”
Kara's thoughts came next. “Out of the time sphere diameter in five, four, three, two, one.”
Noa's apps caught a subtle shift in gravity as the time-sphere began to expand. It struck Noa that she'd never received confirmation from Gate Command, but she only felt a strange sort of lightness and peace. She was fulfilling her obligations to the Fleet. Her old ghosts wouldn't haunt her anymore. She was taking control in the last way she could; she was going down with her ship.
James's joints were immobile; his eyes were frozen open. His skin was painful and tight and he ached to his bones. He thirsted for heat so much it hurt, and even though he knew he was fulfilling his programming, a traitorous subroutine still made him want to be with Noa … and it hurt more than all the physical pain. The gates were buzzing in his mind, discussing the most advantageous way to introduce themselves to the bulk of humanity. Through vision tunneling with hunger, he could see the pearlescent light of the time sphere. He knew the instant it reached full diameter. He got caught in the eddies of the sphere's gravity and his thrusters ceased to propel him and then died with the strain. He drifted backward to the gate. The gravitational and time flux forces of the surface of the sphere would rip him to shreds—and he perversely hoped he'd be caught in it. Noa would escape, the Luddecceans would not get their prize, and he would no longer hurt. But then the pearlescent glow vanished. Without anything to diminish his inertia, he drifted backward. He saw the ring of the gate below him and then his vision tunneled to absolute blackness. He had a bright moment of hope in the dark that he'd lose consciousness, but he didn't. He continued to hear the gates buzz in a language that was mostly numbers—and then three minutes and forty-three seconds later in the darkness he felt heat and heard Kenji's voice, “Don't touch it, you'll burn yourself.”
The darkness became a dim gray.
He heard Kenji say, “It is secure. We should set course for Luddeccea immediately.”
He was an it again. He was too cold and too empty to get angry … and that filled him with despair. He reminded himself that Noa was safe.
And then in his mind, the gates' conversation changed. “The Heretic is requesting that the Ark be sent to the Kanakah Gate to defend it.”
“Gate Command will be too slow to create the time sphere.”
James would have sighed with relief if he could have, even though he felt as though the emptiness in his gut had just become a chasm. He'd never see Noa again … but she was safe.
“It is pointless. She cannot persevere,” said Eight. “And the Kanakah Gate was never awake anyway. Spare it.”
Aboard the Luddeccean vessel, a voice, tinny as though piped through a small speaker said, “The course is already laid in. We'll be exiting the cloud at light speed by the coordinates you provided to avoid any more run-ins with nomadic peoples.”
A tiny, useless part of James's mind plotted the point where they'd most likely exit on the far side of the cloud. It would leave the Luddeccean ship exposed—but unlike Noa and her crew, they weren't trying to hide from anyone.
“Good, I will join you on the bridge,” Kenji said.
James heard rubber soles on metal and the sliding of a door. Another tinny voice said, “Brace for acceleration.”
James felt nothing, but someone in the gray blur near him said, “Whoa—almost lost my footing there.”
The voice said, “They've begun bombing the gate!”
In the gray blur, cheers arose—but they were quickly drowned out by the sound of the gates in James's mind. “One, you've opened the gate for the Heretic! The humans will know we can overwhelm their Gate Commands at any time! It will destabilize them.”
“Noa …?” James whispered into the buzz.
Eight responded, “The heretic is prepared to sacrifice itself for Fleet property.”
“Saving the Kanakah Gate seemed worthwhile,” said One. “The Fleet will arrive shortly after the Heretic's sacrifice, saving the gate, and allowing it to eventually awaken.”
“Heretic's sacrifice?” James whispered.
“Did it talk?” someone in the gray blur that was the Luddeccean vessel said.
“I know they say it is restrained, but it creeps me out,” said another human.
James felt a familiar buzz of heat from a stunner across his skin. The world came into abrupt focus—and the world was gray.
“Humans cannot upload themselves quickly enough,” said Eight. “The heretic will die.”
Chapter Seventeen
In the glow of the time-sphere Noa set a new trajectory for the Ark, unfastened her harness, and raced to the cannons, aiming them with calculations plotted from her memories by apps. The sphere winked out. Looking out through the skylight, Noa saw the tramp James and Gunny had stolen and two remaining ticks, and the planetoid cluster and dust that had protected them from the Luddeccean Fleet. In the monitors, she saw that James was gone—no doubt picked up by the Guard. Her lip curled in fury even as her chest got heavy. She hadn't expected him to be there—but she'd hoped. She had no time to mourn. Fighters were already dropping charges at the gate, and at the nine o'clock pass she saw the lights of the first heavy cruiser emerging. Smiling grimly, Noa pulled back on the heavy levers that triggered the first cannon, leapt to the second cannon as the ship rocked, and did the same. Swaying from the cannon's recoil and charges that were exploding too close, she threw herself into the pilot's seat. Pressing a quick code on the dash and then grabbing the steering bars, she gave the time band-less Ark all the acceleration its ancient engines could manage. The lights on the bridge went dark. From the comm came a calm male voice. “Four minutes and thirteen seconds until self-destruct.”