Exodus

by Alex Lamb

And yet, she still found his generosity damning. His gentleness implied weakness on her part. She dreaded the dependency and softness his company implied, so it was safer and wiser to leave. That way she could reflect and discover who she’d become. Fortunately, fate had granted her that opportunity, along with a fresh chance to redefine her contribution to the mission. She couldn’t wait to start doing something useful again.

  She wished, suddenly, that she hadn’t changed her face. She missed the blunt planes of her old features. She didn’t want to look like a goddess any more. She wasn’t one. And besides, being a little closer to Ira’s height would increase the fun, presuming they chose to meet again. It was the first time she’d cared in years.

  ‘I’m handing you off to Judj,’ said Rachel over the comms. She’d been handling the docking-pod transfer while the others tended the more mission-critical elements of the refuelling. ‘See you later.’

  Judj would be her closest working partner over the days that followed. He was the one who’d cracked the ark computers. It wasn’t an arrangement she relished but it came with the job.

  Her pod coupled to the airlock blister they’d readied for her transfer. A small waldobot showing a screen of Judj’s face met her in a chamber on the far side.

  ‘Welcome to the GSS Woodlouse,’ he told her. ‘You’ll need this.’ He gestured at a thermal layer floating in a cling-pack on the wall. ‘We have life support powered up but we can’t ramp the interior temperature too much without melting the lake. There’s a way to drain it, but it’s one of the few systems showing signs of age. We’re still figuring out a workaround. That means it’s cold in there.’

  Ann stripped and swapped her ship-suit for the layer while Judj talked.

  ‘I have a little more understanding of what the machine does now,’ he said, ‘and that’s what we’re hoping you’ll be able to work on. The whole thing’s a shell – appropriate for a bunch of crabs, perhaps. Clath thinks that when you turn the machine on, the ship warps in place, essentially becoming invulnerable. What we don’t yet get is how or why the Transcended don’t want us to have that technology. Your skills in modelling and software security will come in handy there. We’ve rigged up a workspace for you on the bridge.’

  Without her shadow and other tools, she doubted she’d be able to help much. But she’d been a scientist and a detective once, before she’d become a warrior.

  ‘I’ll do what I can,’ she said.

  ‘That’s all any of us can do,’ Judj assured her. ‘Here’s a visor and a pair of thermal hap-gloves for you to work with,’ he said, pointing her at a second pack. ‘The interface module linking you to the ship’s systems goes on your belt.’

  Ann donned the equipment as instructed.

  ‘I’ve put a sleeping bag down there,’ he went on. ‘Also a food-fabber, san-box and a little bottle of simpagne I synthesised, in case you feel like toasting your new home. I would after a week stuck in that cabin.’

  Ann felt a stab of embarrassment. ‘You didn’t have to go to that kind of trouble,’ she told him.

  ‘I wanted to,’ he said. ‘Also, you can consider it something of an apology. We haven’t exactly seen eye to eye on this trip and some of that is my fault. I struggled because you’re not the only person who came on this mission to make a sacrifice. But then I failed to cover your ass when it counted. I want you to know I’m sorry about that. I owe you one. I’ll make your stay here as pleasant as I can.’

  Ann stared at the drone and wondered what she was supposed to do with yet more kindness.

  ‘No apology is necessary,’ she said stiffly. ‘Really.’

  ‘Well, in any case,’ said Judj. ‘Welcome home.’

  He opened the door to let her in. A breath of icy air escaped from the tunnel below carrying a faint, unexpected scent of something like artificial raspberry. Pinkish light like a winter dawn spilled through. Here was the ship the Transcended didn’t want them to have. It beckoned to her, promising the twin delights of work and danger. Ann felt her face breaking into a grin and launched herself forwards.

  She soared through the opening, past the chamber with the knife-slots in the walls and down into the boulevard-like passageway they’d seen. Through her own eyes, it looked even grander. As she glided gently towards the floor, a panel in the plating opened up and a large mechanical limb extended.

  Ann frowned. ‘Judj, are you doing that?’ she asked. ‘Is this more help?’

  ‘Um, no,’ he said, sounding confused. ‘Hold on.’

  ‘Crew life of sign detected!’ the interface device on her belt proclaimed. ‘Welcome at Pure Pure Slow Safe Ship.’

  Before her glide could intercept the floor, the limb reached out to gently close around her torso.

  ‘Judj?’ said Ann, feeling concerned now as the arm gripped her. ‘What is this?’

  ‘Please to relinquish host you now,’ said her interface module. ‘New host safe ship-ready supply for kindness.’

  A second arm emerged from the hole, carrying a gleaming white robotic gorilloid body with an empty skull cavity.

  ‘It’s running on a different layer,’ said Judj. ‘I haven’t scanned this subsystem yet. Shit. Compensating.’

  The back of the robot’s head was pressed softly against her face, presumably so her brain could crawl into it.

  ‘Desist!’ she told the interface. ‘A new host body is not required!’

  ‘Host body safe ensure. Assistance detachment need? Help providing.’

  The arm holding her sprouted a dozen delicate pincers and cutters, bearing warpium needles on their tips. They started tickling her scalp.

  ‘Judj!’ she yelled.

  The needles retracted. The arm let her go.

  ‘I have the welcome circuit shut down,’ he said anxiously. ‘I think.’

  Ann wheezed in relief, her eyes still glued to the arsenal of surgical tools arrayed around her.

  ‘Can I recommend extreme caution while you explore?’ said Judj, clearing his throat. ‘As it turns out, the ship may have independent systems cued to detect living tissue.’

  ‘No shit,’ said Ann.

  She’d had enough help for one day. She sincerely hoped the ship would be better at backing off than Ira was.

  14.6: MARK

  Mark found himself standing in an old-fashioned transit pod with clear diamond walls. Around him lay a tunnel drilled through rock, sliding slowly by. He flexed his fingers, testing for latency. If this was a dream, it didn’t feel like one.

  The pod rounded a curve and slowed as it approached a fork in the rail. Two openings lay before him. Through one, he could make out the empty streets of New Luxor on Carter in sun-bleached shades of yellow and pink. The other led to a subterra complex on Galatea, complete with lush, green game fields, white pavilions and a pale blue ceiling.

  ‘Fuck you, alien bastards,’ Mark muttered. ‘What kind of a bullshit metaphor is this?’

  His pod lurched forwards, sliding onto the track that led to Galatea, with Carter disappearing from sight. It carried him out into the underground afternoon, passing lawns filled with laughing, ageless citizens, caught up in endless militarised play.

  A flash filled the air, momentarily blinding him. When he could see again, the fields were black. Air was screaming out. It looked like a boser strike. Those people who weren’t already charred corpses grabbed their throats and clawed the ground. Mark watched, sickened at the gory detail the Transcended had lavished on the illusion.

  A flash came again, and suddenly Mark’s pod was traversing the surface. Actinic flickers of warp-drives could be seen peppering the daytime sky. A bright, momentary lance of light pulsed downwards. A second later, a third of the horizon erupted in a wall of grey-brown haze that swelled towards him at appalling speed.

  Another flash, and now a grit storm buffeted the pod. Everywhere around him fell the columnar lightning of energy-weapons fire. All he could hear was the scream of the storm. It was the cry of a dying world and a dying species – h
is.

  He woke gasping and clutching at the virtual sheets.

  ‘Nice job, fuckers!’ he yelled at the air. ‘Really classy.’

  As his rage subsided, he noticed the new SAP puzzle that had landed in his head. It hovered in his private sensorium, brooding and massive like a swarm of hornets. He regarded it uneasily. This pattern was almost human in format, with a weird remapping of the motivational framework. Control of goal construction and self-validation had all been handed off to an artificial-looking cluster that appeared to take its cues from another system entirely – a different organ, perhaps. Mark didn’t doubt for a moment that he was looking at a model of a Photurian mind.

  ‘Your olive branch is an unsecured program inside my own skull that makes me think like a Phote?’ he said. ‘I’m not running it, assholes. You want to talk, you know where I am.’

  Mark ignored the puzzle and made his way to breakfast, only to find the SAP dogging his mind, appearing in doorways and shadows like a phantom. It hid in the reflection on his butter knife, scowling at him despite its lack of eyes. Mark ate quickly and made his way to the bridge where Palla was flying. Their fuelling star lay far behind.

  He explained the dreams and the ominous delivery that had followed. She listened silently, worry creasing her features.

  ‘Do you think I should open it?’ he said.

  She shrugged anxiously. ‘If they care this much, why don’t they just take you over?’

  ‘Maybe they can’t,’ he said. ‘Or maybe they think I’ll still cave.’

  ‘Then hold your ground,’ she said. ‘Make them treat you like a person.’

  He could tell she was nervous, despite her words. Burning worlds were not a threat to take lightly these days.

  ‘Can I see it?’ she said, biting her lip. ‘The puzzle, I mean.’

  Mark eyed her. ‘Are you sure that’s a good idea?’

  ‘Are you doing what they want now? I’d just like to understand, that’s all. Maybe share your burden a little.’

  ‘I’m not sure I can even copy it from my sensorium.’

  She arched an eyebrow at him. ‘Have you tried?’

  Mark reached into his mind and initiated a send. Her face brightened.

  ‘I’ve got it!’ she said, grabbing his arm. ‘Wow, that’s detailed! They want you to interface with this ugly bastard?’

  ‘That’s the general idea.’

  ‘I don’t blame you for holding off,’ said Palla as she pored over the details in her shadow. ‘I see no security checks, no timeouts, nothing.’ She looked eager.

  ‘I don’t recommend trying to run it,’ said Mark, and wondered if he’d made a mistake by sharing.

  Her expression softened. ‘Mark, I wouldn’t dare. I want to be there for you, that’s all. I can want that, can’t I? Maybe help you fight your battles a bit? It doesn’t need to be more than that.’

  ‘Sure,’ he said uncertainly and let it drop.

  Throughout that day, the puzzle burned, chiming into his subconscious like an unanswered intercom. The image of it sizzled behind his eyes when he shut them. And as they bore down on the edge of the Depleted Zone, his concentration fractured. Headaches plagued him. It felt like someone was tightening a vice on his skull regardless of what meds the ship provided.

  As Mark dropped warp and prepared the ship for its passage back through the Alpha Flaw, he began to wonder if he’d actually make it through alive. It hurt that bad. But the more pain it gave him, the less he felt like giving in.

  ‘I’ve improved on the modelling code I used last time,’ Clath told him. ‘After what happened to Ann, I went back and optimised everything. And then I thought, why not use the data we collected from the Diggory? It spent way more time in the Flaw than we did. And even though the Diggory didn’t have modern sensors, I could still look at what they did see and impute fine-scale curvon readings using our own data as a training set.’ She noticed the anguished impatience on his face and stalled. ‘Anyway, it should be easier going back,’ she added. ‘But it’s still not going to be fun.’

  Her words eased his mind not one whit. Something told him he wouldn’t see the other side. As Palla ran out the lines of feeler-drones, Mark found himself thinking not of the task ahead, but of Rachel. He’d come after her, yet now that she was a feature of his life again he’d tried to avoid her because she made him uncomfortable. How ludicrous was that? Before they both lost themselves in the Zone again, he had to make it right.

  ‘Do you guys mind if I take five minutes?’ he croaked.

  Palla shot him a worried look. ‘Of course not.’

  Mark nodded his thanks and guiltily blinked himself back to the yacht. He found his half-mother in the lounge studying engine diagrams from the ark. She looked up as he walked in, her eyes widening in surprise.

  ‘Mark,’ she said rising. ‘What do you need?’

  ‘To apologise,’ he said, feeling awkward immediately. ‘After this, I may not get another chance. I know I’ve been difficult to fly with and I know I’m not what you hoped I’d be. So, sorry. I’ve done my best.’

  Her expression melted. ‘Oh, Mark,’ she said. ‘You don’t have to apologise for anything.’ She stepped towards him.

  He stood stiffly, struggling for poise. ‘The last war messed us all up. This mission was supposed to be my chance to fix that but it hasn’t panned out that way. But mostly, I want to say sorry for who I was. I was an ungrateful little shit while you were mentoring me. The older I get, the larger those years loom in my mind.’

  ‘No,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘You were great. Working with you when you were young made me the happiest I’ve ever been. You were so wild. That’s what’s so hard about seeing you changed. For all that you’ve grown into someone strong, it’s like you’ve got this millstone round your neck – this fucking crusade you can’t put down. I love you, Mark. I always have. And I hate that war for forcing such a weight upon you.’ Tears crept to the corners of her eyes. ‘I hope we survive this shit so you have the chance to put it down and get some of yourself back.’

  ‘No,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘It’s not like that. The crusade, that’s the good part of me.’

  She shot him an incredulous look. Mark struggled for words. Couldn’t she see how much better he was now that he was working for others instead of himself? His head pulsed with pain.

  ‘I have a new puzzle from the Transcended,’ he blurted, glancing away. ‘Do you think I should solve it?’

  Rachel looked sad that their moment of intimacy had apparently already passed.

  ‘I’m not sure any more,’ she replied. ‘Not after what they did to Ann. If they want to help, why cripple her talents? I used to believe in the Transcended, but why subject humanity to this awful war if the galaxy is really theirs?’

  She tried to catch Mark’s eye while he squinted at the seagulls and struggled for equilibrium.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ she asked.

  ‘Resist being a good little puppet for as long as I can. I’m not touching it until they come out and talk like adults.’ He couldn’t bring himself to tell her how much it hurt. She’d only worry.

  ‘Good choice,’ she said. ‘I’m proud of you. Don’t ever feel like you need to say sorry to me,’ she added. ‘I’m the one who should be apologising. We made such a mess of your childhood. I can’t even begin to say how much I regret that.’

  Mark’s chest squeezed. ‘Don’t,’ he said. ‘Don’t regret that. Please.’

  ‘Okay,’ she said gently. ‘I’ll try.’

  ‘I have to go,’ he said. ‘The others are waiting.’

  He let her hug him and fled back to helm-space.

  Palla watched him nervously as he returned. ‘Are you okay?’

  Mark nodded quickly while his skull squeezed.

  ‘Do you have the strength?’

  He knew they couldn’t fly the ship without him. Making it back through the Flaw without Ann’s talents would be hard enough in the first place.
Clath’s new mapping software could only do so much. If he dropped out now, they’d be stuck until his headaches abated or the Photes caught up.

  ‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world,’ he told them. ‘Let’s do this.’

  He slid himself into flight-control. The rainbow river of the Flaw appeared before him against the backdrop of stars, overlaid with Clath’s optimised vector representation.

  ‘Initiating approach,’ he told them and pushed the ship gingerly into the waiting gap. Almost at once, the puzzle in his mind took on the status of a visual scream. Mark gritted his teeth.

  ‘Need help here,’ he gasped. ‘Getting a little … neural … interference.’

  Palla leapt to his support and snapped open a flight sim for Ira.

  ‘I’m here, Mark,’ she said. ‘Setting up a redundant piloting rig for error correction. We’ll do this together.’

  With all three of them flying, it felt easier. The first violent kink in the Flaw was punishing, the second not so bad, the third almost a breeze. Unfortunately, the stream of unmanageable vectors kept coming as Clath updated her map in real-time.

  In the end, it required twenty excruciating hours. Nothing bad happened. In that regard, their traversal was a stunning success. With the data from two ships and new science to go with it, humanity had finally developed the tools to defeat the Depleted Zone.

  Mark, however, wasn’t in a state of mind to appreciate the achievement. When he pushed the ship to the other side of the Flaw, he caught a mere glimpse of open space before his exhausted mind started to give.

  ‘Help,’ he gasped.

  By then, it felt like his head was on fire. Ira took the helm as Mark tumbled into Palla’s arms, and from there to unconsciousness.

  15: ARRIVAL

  15.1: IRA

  As soon as Mark’s avatar vanished, the engines died. The glass disc of helm-space began to twist and buckle like a bed of snakes.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Palla shouted as warnings filled the air.

  ‘Transcended virus,’ said Judj. ‘It’s back. Hang on.’

  A sphere of security glyphs sprang up around him. They lurched into the yacht metaphor where the walls grew quivering fingers.