*****
Doctor Notani advised him to rest, but there was no way he was going to be able to stay confined to the Medical Center. They ended up compromising. He spent an hour in his former room resting—fitfully—with the doc monitoring his brain waves. He didn’t experience anymore episodes, so she agreed to let him leave… but only after he repeated “I’m fine” a dozen more times, promised to take the pain medication, and to come back if he had any other symptoms.
When she released him, he practically ran into the hall.
He contemplated going back to his quarters, but knew that being alone with his thoughts was the last thing he wanted. He needed to keep busy, and knew exactly where to go.
Turning right, he headed towards his ship: towards the encryption which pulled at him to continue unraveling it. He knew that he was the only person who could succeed.
Determined, he ascended the ramp into his ship and got straight to work. After all of the uncertainties he’d experienced over the past several days, it felt good to be working on something he knew he could accomplish. Coding was what he specialized in, and there was no doubt in his mind that he had written this one himself, but the question still remained: why?
Soon, he was completely focused on solving the problem in front of him, and with each layer of encryption he uncovered, his need to compete the task grew. What had begun as a confusing quandary was now a desperate, nearly obsessive need. He had to unravel this code and gain access to the cargo inside the room. The doors had to open.
Something of great importance was at stake, he just didn’t know what.
He lost all sense of time, all awareness of his surroundings. All he saw was the code in front of him, and his fingers as they flew over the console with an urgency unlike anything he’d ever experienced. He worked tirelessly until the screen went black. He lifted his hands in surprise and watched as a recorded video message began to play.
*****
The video that began playing on the cargo room’s console was of him.
Karo scrutinized his own image: it was obvious that he hadn’t been well when he’d recorded the message. His eyes were bloodshot and ringed with bruised, dark blue circles. He’d lost at least twenty pounds, which made his face appear sunken—he looked haggard.
The recorded Karo ran his palm over his bare head, then lifted tired eyes to the camera. When he finally spoke, his voice was gravely.
“Hello, Karo. If you’re seeing this than you’ve managed to stay out of the regeneration chamber long enough to uncover my secret… our secret. I hope my plan worked: that you’re seeing this many years from now, and have no idea what I’m talking about.” He chuckled, but it was not a happy sound.
“First, you should know that I’m going to alter my memories, and if I’ve been successful, you won’t have any recollection of what I’m about to tell you. I’m not exactly sure how much of my memory will be lost, but hopefully you remember your job at the Department of Space, and that the Scout mission you’re assigned to was supposed to be solo.”
The recorded Karo took a deep breath, and continued with agony marring his features. “The memories I’m making sure to corrupt are the ones of Aevum.”
The man onscreen got a soft expression on his face, and Karo’s mind registered the name.
“This is all about her. Everything is for her.” Karo’s recording smirked. “She’s a fierce one. Somehow she convinced mom and dad to fight the department and be allowed to go on the mission with me; she didn’t want me to be alone all those years. The department didn’t want a battle with the High Council, so they agreed.”
His features grew soft, and Karo’s heart ached. This version of himself was obviously in love. He had a woman whom he was devoted to—that much was obvious—but Karo was frightened of what his recorded self would tell him next. The man looked too beaten for this story to have a happy ending.
“The first few years were wonderful. We explored the galaxy, cataloging everything we came across, and stopping to make contact with any forms of life we discovered.”
His features grew grim and Karo braced himself. Here it comes; the part he’d been loath to hear.
“We had just returned to space after spending a couple of days on a planet, when Aevum began to feel ill. It started as a headache, but quickly became something much worse. She went into her regeneration chamber to fight the illness, but it didn’t heal her.”
The Karo on screen hung his head.
“I thought the chamber was broken. I did everything I could to fix it, but the problem was with the disease. It wove itself into her DNA in such a manner that the chamber wasn’t able to differentiate its DNA from hers. It was able to diagnose the disease, though: she has HCA.”
Karo’s stomach fell. Hypoactive Cellular Apoptosis was a disease that changed the life cycle of cells. Instead of them dying naturally, HCA altered the cellular proteins so that the cells lived far longer than usual, giving them time to degrade and pass along inferior DNA as the cells continued to multiply.
It was a disease that was well known on Siril, and one for which there was no cure.
Anyone who contracted the disease would soon be filled with deformed cells, the healthy ones slowly being taken over. The person’s organs shut down, neural pathways degraded—it was a horrible thing to witness.
Karo’s recorded self began speaking faster, as if he had to rush to get the words out because they were too painful.
“We were going to head home to Siril, but I knew that even if we arrived before she died, they wouldn’t be able to save her. I couldn’t let her die, so the only other option was to find an alien race with technology advanced enough to heal her.
“I headed further into the galaxy as fast as the propulsion system would allow but… she faded too fast. I urged her to go into stasis, but she refused to leave me alone. She thought that the risk to her life was worth it. I didn’t. I tricked her into going into stasis while I continued the search.”
His expression of agony lessened, and the corner of his mouth quirked up. “She’s going to be so pissed.” He shook his head and looked straight into the camera, a flash of humor in his eyes. “Good luck with that.”
Thanks. Karo’s mind churned. Does that mean she’s still alive? No. Where was her chamber? The evidence of her life onboard? There’s no way.
The message continued.
“I won’t bore you with the details, but it hasn’t been an easy trip, and we’re still on the other side of the galaxy. I thought I could find a race to help me, but it’s been…” he glanced away as if looking at a clock. “Four years, three months, and two days. I still haven’t found any advanced enough.”
His expression turned to one of desperation. “The effects of being alone for so long are beginning to be debilitating. I miss her so much. I can’t sleep, haven’t eaten. I work on LINK to pass the time, but I know that she was right: I can’t handle being alone.”
He stopped to rub his eyes, and when he spoke again his voice sounded determined.
“I realized that the best chance for her survival was for me to forget her and hop through time. I’ve worked for weeks to reprogram LINK and alter my base point to remove all memories of her. From now on, each time I’m in stasis my memories will be reset along with my body, and I won’t know that she even existed.
“I’m sorry for having done this to you—to myself—but there’s no other way. I can’t go on like this, and I must; her life depends on me, and I cannot fail! You must save her!”
The message suddenly ended, but Karo remained staring at the blank console, willing it to give him more information. How was he supposed to save someone when he didn’t know where she was?
No sooner had he finished the thought then he heard a loud series of clicks from the cargo door. It had unlocked.
CHAPTER 24
Aevum sat at her console staring at the blank vid screen. She’d just finished watching a recorded message that Karo had sent her. He’d told
her that the solar flare had made impact with Siril’s eastern hemisphere. His tone had been grave, and he didn’t need to tell her that the people on that side of the planet hadn’t fared well.
He’d also explained that his department had decided to accelerate the Scout mission’s timeline. He warned her that in the days to come he’d be working long hours to meet his deadline, and would be coming home exhausted.
His dedication to his job didn’t upset Aevum. What was causing her angst was that he’d also told her that he’d declined the opportunity to be a Scout.
He’d barely mentioned it; he’d said it as one would say a passing thought, but Aevum could see the disappointment etched into the lines of his face. His expression remained ingrained into her mind, and his words replayed over and over.
“I was asked to be a Scout but declined. My commitment now is to make sure that the twelve people chosen are able to leave for space as soon as they can. The sooner they leave, the sooner we can learn of potential risks to our planet, and develop plans for their diminution.”
Aevum’s mind spun. This was his dream: to explore space, push the boundaries and their understanding of the universe. The last thing she wanted was for him to leave—just the thought made pain bloom in her breast—but knowing that he’d be disappointed for the rest of his life was far worse.
She knew that he was declining because of her. She’d opened her big mouth and forced him to understand why single-manned missions were wrong. But she also couldn’t deny that she hoped he didn’t want to leave her.
The fact that he was staying should have made her feel elated—maybe that emotion was inside of her somewhere—but right now all she felt was sorrow. Karo had worked his entire life for an opportunity like this, and she didn’t want to be the cause of disappointment in anyone’s life, especially not his.
How am I going to fix this?
She couldn’t persuade him that he’d be alright alone; she’d never be able to lie convincingly enough to him.
What if he’s not alone? Aevum sat up straight in her chair, and her mind immediately began to run wild with possibilities. What if I went with him?
She loved exploring space. It had always been the favorite part of her work, so it would be a dream to explore farther than anyone, especially if she was sharing the experience with Karo.
Aevum put a palm to her chest, as if that would calm her wildly beating heart. How am I going to make this happen?
The Scouts were scheduled to depart in two weeks. That didn’t give her a lot of time. She needed some very powerful people on her side to convince Karo’s commander of her proposition. Thankfully she knew two people who were potentially capable of helping.
Aevum knew what she had to do.
Her fingers quickly accessed the population’s database through her console and found Kishi, Karo’s mother. Surprisingly, she was able to reach the woman, and after explaining the situation to her, they agreed to meet at Kishi’s home. Aevum wasn’t eager to see Karo’s mother, especially without him as a buffer, but she would do anything to make sure that he didn’t throw away the opportunity of a lifetime.
Bounding with hope, she hurriedly dressed and grabbed her wristunit as she dashed out of her room and, hopefully, towards an exciting new path in her life.
Karo entered his family’s building and felt like he was trudging through the doors. He was happy with his decision to stay planet-side, especially if he was with Aevum, but not even the prospect of a future with her could eliminate all of the disappointment he felt. Exploring the far reaches of space had been a dream of his since he was a child. But Karo now realized that dreams changed.
He would always be a little disappointed that he wasn’t up there with Reus among the stars.
He was lost in thought as he headed up the stairs towards his room to pack another bag of clothing to take to Aevum’s house, but an unfamiliar sound made him stop; conversation came from the nearby sitting room.
His parents often worked late at the High Council Building, and regularly entertained guests at their offices rather than bring them into their private home. Curious, Karo followed the voices, and was shocked to hear another voice that he recognized: Aevum’s. Karo entered the room to see his mother and father sitting across from her.
“What’s going on here?” he asked, perplexed and a little anxious at what he was seeing. Aevum smiled at him but his parents’ expressions were of censure.
“Karincin, that is no way to greet your mother and I, nor Aevum,” his father chastised.
The last thing Karo was in the mood for was a lecture on decorum from his parents but he managed to keep the irritation out of his voice. “My apologies, father, but this is very… unexpected.”
His father’s response was cut-off by Aevum interjecting. “Karo, why don’t you come and sit down. We have something to tell you.”
Karo was not in the mood to deal with his parents, but when Aevum held out her hand toward him, Karo came and sat next to her on the lounger. She sandwiched his hand between her own, and smiled brightly at him.
Seeing her face after such a strenuous day reinforced his decision. He couldn’t help but give her a small smile in return.
“After I received your message this afternoon I contacted your mother and told her what happened,” Aevum began.
Karo’s anxiety was replaced by a wave of dread. It was never good for his parents to interfere with his life.
“Look, if you’re all here to try and convince me to accept the Scout mission, then you’re going to fail. I’m not going.”
“You will go,” Rifka stated flatly. “We’ve already made an agreement with Commander Counnas to reinstate you as a Scout, and in return we’re going to make a sizable donation to your department.”
Karo couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’re bribing my Commander?”
“I am certainly not!” his father retorted.
Aevum quickly interjected. “Karo, the money isn’t a bribe. You’ve told me on several occasions that one of the reasons the Scouts are being sent by themselves is because of the resources required to send multiple people. Your parents are giving your department a donation so that they will retrofit your ship for an additional person to go on the mission with you.”
Karo’s mind spun. Another person? That was great, but solitude was only one of the reasons Karo didn’t want the assignment.
“I appreciate the gesture, but I have not changed my mind.” He turned his body to face Aevum and saw emotions swimming in the depths of her eyes. “I cannot be separated from you for that long. Actually, I don’t ever want to be apart from you.”
Tears gathered in Aevum’s lashes and she smiled. “I don’t want to be without you either. That’s why I’m going into space with you.”
Karo shook his head slightly, sure he was hearing her wrong, but her face showed nothing but sincerity and happiness.
“You’re… you’re coming with me? Why would you do that?”
“Because I love you!” she exclaimed. Karo’s eyes went wide, and hers skiittered away from his, as if she were suddenly embarrassed. When she continued, her voice was softer.
“It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I can’t allow you to throw it away because of me. I care about you too much to let you do that.”
Karo’s mind spun. She loves me?! His heart soared. There was no denying the fact that he loved her too—more than he’d ever loved anyone in his life—but he didn’t want her to give up her future for him.
“But what about your job, your family?” he asked.
Her eyes met his again. “My parents will understand. They’ve always taught me to follow where my heart leads, and that’s to you. As for my job, this is a dream assignment for me, too. What better way to discover and study new cultures than on a long-term space mission? My department will love the idea.”
She said it with such conviction that Karo didn’t know how to respond. Words felt frozen in his throat, so instead, he re
ached for Aevum and enveloped her in his arms. He kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes tightly against the tears that were welling. A single thought replayed in his mind: She’s going with me!
CHAPTER 25
Karo approached the closed cargo door, apprehension and excitement slithering down his spine. He heard Deian and LINK from somewhere close-by, but couldn’t find his voice to call for them. His hand shook slightly as he pressed his palm to the control panel to open the doors. They slid open slowly, as if they’d been closed for so long that they were nearly stuck.
Inside, the room was pitch black.
Karo took one step over the threshold, and blinked a few times to get his eyes to adjust. He saw small illuminations in the dark, and although his legs felt leaden, he forced himself to take a step into the room. He headed for the small lights, which he soon discovered were attached to a much larger object.
His heartbeat quickened while his lungs breathed in air that was stale and uncirculated.
He moved around the edge of the object to get a better look, and felt like he was struck in the chest. The lights were familiar; ones he’d seen daily for many years.
Karo stood in shock as he realized that the object which had been locked away by his own hand was a regeneration chamber. The lights were readouts showing that the chamber was occupied.
Aevum.
She hadn’t been a hallucination; she was real.
Karo’s legs went weak, and he caught himself on the edge of the chamber with his palm. She wasn’t dead! His recording had been right. He hadn’t been alone all these years; she’d been on the mission with him.
Questions swam inside Karo’s head, but he focused on what the chamber’s indicator lights showed: something was wrong with her, and nothing else mattered at the moment other than helping the woman trapped inside.
“Deian!” Karo shouted, no trouble finding his voice this time. “Get Doctor Notani in here right away.”
Adrift (The Sirilians Book 1) Page 20