by M. R. Forbes
The hologram bowed its head for a moment before continuing.
"The Dread have recently begun to step up their military presence throughout the resistance inhabited regions of the planet. Already, we have confirmed the destruction of bases in Jakarta, Indonesia, Cairo, Egypt, Osaka, Japan, and Kenya, South Africa. Our base here in Mexico is under constant threat, having lost over a third of our fighting forces in the prior three months. Our analysts are convinced that the Dread have tired of our pecking at them for the last half-century, and of passing intel along to you. It may be that we are drawing nearer to discovering their secrets. Or it may be that they have other plans that require ending the resistance once and for all. I don't know, and I don't think I ever will."
He paused again, looking off to the side. He bit his lower lip, clearly uncomfortable with what came next.
"My comrades beyond Earth. I don't know what your situation is. I know that fifty years have passed, and you have been unable to help us. I know that you have been trying your best. I know that some of your pilots and ships have been lost. I'm sorry, my friends. This is a fight that we cannot win. We have tried, but we have failed. The resistance is on the verge of collapse and will be disbanded soon, our larger groups breaking into smaller ones in an effort to evade detection. All of us here are grateful that you did not abandon us to our fate. Your presence has given us a strength that has allowed us to continue for all of these years.
"Even so, the day has come where I must ask that you move on. I know the ship you escaped on was designed to travel much greater distances than you have. If you have the chance to find a better life somewhere else, I beg you to please take it. Please carry on our civilization and our legacy. Maybe one day you will discover the technology to defeat the Dread armor. Maybe one day, you will avenge us.
"This will be the last transmission sent. Good luck, and Godspeed."
THIRTY
The recording ended. The hologram vanished.
The room was still. Silent.
The only sound Gabriel heard was the thumping of his pulse in his ears. The only thing he felt was the heat of his anger and anguish rising into his face, at the same time the skin along his arms prickled from a sudden, intense chill.
What the hell had just happened?
Everyone in the room was in shock, except for Angela, Colonel Graham, and General Cave. They had known. They had heard it earlier.
It was over.
Just like that.
He felt sick. He felt weak. He wanted to cry. To punch something. To close his eyes and not wake up. What was his father going to think when he heard about this? Would he even survive the news?
Colonel Graham picked up the tablet and made the long walk back to his seat. The room remained silent.
Gabriel looked at him as he sat. Graham's eyes were apologetic. He had decided he wanted to keep fighting as much as Gabriel did. It seemed God had other plans.
"Do we even need to hear Guy's report?" Charles asked. "I think the way forward is looking pretty clear."
"Is the Council ready to vote?" Angela asked.
"Aye," they all responded. Even Captain Sturge's wife, Siddhu.
Gabriel had come to argue, but there was no argument left. Even the people on Earth didn't want the New Earth Alliance to help them anymore.
"Okay. All in favor of retrofitting the Magellan and preparing for the trip to Eden, please raise your hand."
Every hand in the Council went up without hesitation like a dozen knives through Gabriel's heart. He felt each one individually, stabbing into his soul and stealing everything he had ever believed in.
Beside him, Major Choi gripped his arm tighter. "It will be okay," she said softly, trying to help him through it.
"Very well," Angel said. "The Council moves to-"
"Um. One minute, Councilwoman Rouse," a voice said from her right.
Gabriel's head felt like it was about to explode, but he still managed to turn it, finding that one of the scientists, the one from the pod, had stepped forward.
"Is there a problem, Reza?" Angela asked.
"Hmm... Well, it's not a problem per se," the scientist replied. "I mean, it is a problem, but it isn't completely- well, it is kind of related to this."
"Reza, we talked about this," the other male scientist said. He had to be Guy. "Your numbers are off."
"Hmm... No. I don't think so. In any case, I think the Council needs to know about this before they make any decisions."
"That's why you wanted to come here? To question our work?"
"I wanted to come to make sure everyone here is informed."
"Informed about what?" Angela said.
Guy moved ahead of Reza. "My apologies, Angela. I-"
"Informed about what?" she repeated.
The man stepped ahead of Guy. "The slipstream calculations to Eden. They're wrong."
"They are not wrong," Guy said.
"They are," Reza insisted.
"Guy, be quiet," Angel said. Guy closed his mouth, his face turning red. "Reza, tell us."
"There was an error made in the slipstream equations. Eden is too far away for the Magellan to reach it. To be precise, Guy's calculations assume a one-year retrofit and project out the slipstream currents to that date, making an estimate of plus or minus three months based on the wave power. I've checked every number three times, and that's just wrong. The travel time is going to be six months at a minimum, and the slipstream variation may be double that based on the planet's location."
"English, please," Lucille said.
"The Magellan was only designed to carry ten-thousand. There are twenty-thousand of us, give or take. If we try to make it to Eden, we'll starve to death," Reza said.
Angela didn't look happy with the news. "Guy?"
Guy made a face at Reza before turning to Angela. "Sarah and I both did the calculations, Angela. We are one hundred percent confident that they're correct. And, unlike Reza here, neither one of us flunked advanced calculus the first time we took it."
"That was a bullshit grade," Reza said, angry at the comment. "Mrs. Ramini hated me."
"Really, Reza?" the female scientist said, finally speaking up.
"Enough," Angela said. "Reza, can you prove the calculations are off?"
"I can show you my work."
"And we can show you ours," Guy said. "Angela, we've known each other for years. You know my work is solid. I'm not the Chief Astronomer because of my good looks."
Reza laughed at the comment, causing Guy to turn on him.
"One more time, Reza, and you'll be staying on Alpha for re-training. Maybe the military wants you."
Reza made a point of clamping his mouth closed before backing up a few steps.
"You can decide who you want to believe," Guy said to the Council. "Sarah and I have fifty years of experience between us. Reza has only been in Astronomy for three years."
Angela looked over the rest of the Council, checking their expressions.
"I trust you, Guy," she said. "I think the rest of the Council does as well."
Reza didn't say anything at that comment. Instead, he stormed from the meeting room.
"General Cave," Angela said. "I expect a full report on the current configuration of the Magellan on my desk in two days, along with an estimate of how long it will take crews working double shifts to refit her. It's clear the Dread have tired of the humans on Earth. What if they get tired of us being out here, so close to them, as well?"
"Of course, Angela," Cave said. "I would like to point out that we have no reason to believe the Dread know we're out here. There has never been any sign of them anywhere near this system."
"There's a first time for everything, General. I don't want us to be here when that happens."
General Cave spread his hands in submission.
"Thank you all for coming," Angela said, turning to address both the Council and the assembled guests. "I hereby call this meeting adjourned." She tapped her touchpad, stopping
the recording. Then she tapped her medallion against the table, ending the meeting.
Gabriel remained motionless in his seat as the Council members got up and began to file from the room. Graham exited without trying to say anything while Major Choi continued to squeeze his arm.
General Cave approached him a moment later, kneeling down to get to eye level. "I'm sorry, Gabriel," he said. "I never intended for things to go like this."
Gabriel stared at him, still unable to find any words. It was over because he had made it out with the message. It was over because he had survived.
"Do you want me to tell your father, or do you want to do it?" Cave asked.
Gabriel was silent. If only he had died, this wouldn't be happening. There would still be an argument left to be had.
"You should do it, Gabriel," Major Choi said.
Gabriel looked at her. He wasn't going to cry in front of them. He pulled his arm away from her, glaring at General Cave as he got to his feet.
He left the chamber without a word.
THIRTY-ONE
"So, what do you intend to do?" Donovan asked, staring at Ehri. Her statement had chilled him to the core. Not because she intended it that way. Because it was true.
"I will observe," she replied.
"You won't call the guards or give us away?" Diaz asked.
"No. I wish to study your critical thinking patterns, threat processing capabilities, and problem-solving skills."
"Even if that means we kill some of your kind?"
"Yes."
"I guess that's why you said you would be better off if we were more alike. No human would ever agree to watch their own kind die in the name of science."
"I have studied Earth history. That may be true more recently, but it was not always so. Do you know of Nazi Germany, and what you called World War Two?"
"I've heard of it," Donovan said. "I don't know the details."
"It was not one of humankind's finest moments," Ehri said. "Though I have been able to draw some parallels between the leaders of that time and the Domo'dahm."
"How do you become the Domo'dahm?" Donovan asked. "Inheritance? Election?"
"Neither. Genetic testing. We look for markers that highly correlate with strong leadership. We call them the pur'dahm. These bek'hai are raised to become Domo'dahm. Of course, only one will, and only if the current Domo'dahm dies. It is extremely competitive. Even so, simply being one of the chosen elevates a bek'hai to what you might call a prince."
"Are they all as violent as the current ruler?"
"Just like I am different from my clones, the Domo'dahm are all quite different. Tuhrik was once a pur'dahm. He abandoned the cell to pursue his desire to study humans."
"So you're saying if we can kill this Domo'dahm of yours, we might be able to get a replacement that will stop trying to destroy us?" Diaz asked.
"It is not that simple. No. My suggestion to you is to find your way out of here. To take what you have learned to your people."
"I thought you were just an observer?"
"It is only a suggestion."
"Thanks for the idea," Donovan said, turning to Diaz. "I'm starting to think; this is a one time opportunity. There's no point in going back to base with nothing but a few alien vocabulary words."
"I agree. We should try to find something more substantial. Something that can help us survive, and maybe even fight back."
Donovan turned back to Ehri. "The other bek'hai in here. Are they armed?"
"Do you mean bek'hai, or clones?"
"Both."
"The soldiers are. Most others will raise an alarm if they see you."
"They won't attack us?"
"Only if they are armed."
Donovan stared at the clone. She had a pretty face. A sweet, compassionate face. She was biologically human. He had to remind himself she was still the enemy. All of her talk of observing could be nothing but talk. They had no way to know if she would raise the alarm as soon as they left this room.
"You're wondering if you can trust me," she said.
"Yes."
She stood up. He held the knife, following her across the room to a blank space on the wall.
"Put your knife to my back." She reached back and lowered her dress enough to expose her skin. "Here. A heavy stab will sever my spine."
"What are you doing?" Donovan asked.
"Earning your trust. Duck down. You don't want to be seen."
Donovan did as she said, pressing the knife to her porcelain flesh. She waved her hand, and the wall turned into a video screen.
"Surhm, Aval, Trinia, your attention," she said in English.
Three identical versions of her stopped what they were doing, turned, and stood at attention before her. The hand holding the knife tensed, as Donovan prepared to stop her from giving them away.
"Dahm Tuhrik has chosen to remain in his chamber for today. Please continue your work as assigned."
"Yes, Si-Dahm," they replied together.
"Also, remember to practice your human languages. Understanding is the key to assimilation, and the future of the bek'hai."
"Yes, Si-Dahm."
She waved her hand, and the screen vanished.
"You can remove the knife now," she said.
Donovan pulled the knife away. Ehri turned to face them. "I have now had the opportunity to steal your weapon and use it against you. I have had the opportunity to signal an alert that would guarantee your capture. I have also shown you that I have not lied to you about Tuhrik's studies. Is there something else you would like me to do to prove that I will not betray you to the others?"
Donovan glanced over to Diaz. She was thoughtful for a few moments and then shrugged.
"I can't think of anything," she said. "It's your decision, D. Trust her or kill her?"
Donovan handed the knife back to Diaz. He trusted Ehri with a certainty that surprised him. That fact gave him an idea.
"I'm going to trust you, but I also have a proposal."
"A proposal?"
"If you want to study humankind, you need a bit more exposure than just the two of us trapped in a maze. The sample size is too small, and you won't learn anything about who we are when we aren't under the gun."
She smiled softly. "What do you suggest?"
"Do a little bit more than observe. Help us get out of here, and then come with us." He figured she would say no, but there was no harm in trying.
The offer seemed to catch her off-guard. She took an involuntary step back. "You want me to help you? You want me to come with you? Why would I do that?"
"You're a scientist. You want to study humans. The best way to do that is to spend time with us."
"Donovan, you can't," Diaz said. "We don't know-"
"I can," Donovan interrupted. "It's my decision, remember? Look, you said it yourself. There's no way we can win in the end. So what's the harm in helping us get out of here, and getting to spend some time in our world? You clearly don't care if some of your kind die in the process, and that's the worst that can happen."
She stared at him in silence. He began to wonder if he was wrong about her. Would she change her mind and raise an alarm instead?
"I admit, I am intrigued by the idea," she said at last. "More than intrigued. I am excited by the potential. But also concerned. The Domo'dahm will send an army to destroy your base once it is located. There is a high probability I will die with you, and all of my learnings will be lost. It is one thing to sacrifice a few bek'hai in the name of science. It is another to sacrifice them for nothing."
"There isn't much I can do about that other than to promise to do my best to keep you alive," Donovan said. "It's high risk, high reward all around."
She was silent again, considering. Finally, she held up her right hand with her index and pinkie finger extended, and the rest of her hand closed.
"Put up your hand like this," she said.
Donovan copied the posture.
"This is how the bek'hai make
deals with one another. Press your fingertips to mine."
Donovan did. The skin on her fingers was softer than anything he had touched before, and he could swear he felt a cool electricity pass between them as they made contact.
"We have a deal, Major. This touch is my bond."
"This touch is my bond," Donovan repeated.
He wasn't sure if that was part of the routine. It just felt right.
THIRTY-TWO
"Follow behind me," Ehri said. "Stay close."
She approached the door to Tuhrik's room, waving her hand and opening it. She took a step out into the corridor, checked both directions, and then continued moving. Donovan and Diaz filed out behind her. Donovan spared a glance back into the room, at Tuhrik's dead body, before the door slid closed. Whatever twist of fate had brought them here and guided them to that room, that Dread, and finally to Ehri, he was thankful for it. He had no idea how they would escape without her.
Even with her, it was no guarantee.
Ehri swept down the corridor, moving to the inner portion of the circular hub. The green light was visible ahead of them, growing in intensity as they drew nearer.
"Where are we going?" Donovan asked.
"The light is a transport mechanism," she said. "It will carry us to another part of the ship."
"That's the second time you said ship," Diaz said. "You mean this city is really a starship?"
"Yes. I suppose you are too young to have seen the bek'hai invasion."
"My grandfather always said the alien ships were massive," Donovan said. "I always figured he was exaggerating."
"All of the bek'hai live within a starship, each one connected to the other through constructed tunnels."
"We arrived through a drainage pipe. We came out in a huge room with a bunch of machines arranged around a central spire."
"A power generator. The energy is sent to the ships around it so that they don't need to cycle their reactors. This allows us to reduce maintenance and keep the ships ready for departure."