Heart of the Nebula

by Joe Vasicek

  “Nina, patch a call through to my mother at K-3.”

  “Understood, mistress. Shall I transmit a recorded message?”

  “No,” said Sara. “I want to talk with her live.”

  It took a little less than a minute for the signal to transmit from the Colony to the moon settlement above Kardunash III where her mother currently lived. That made for almost a two minute delay for live calls, which was why most people opted to send messages over that distance instead. But if Sara was never going to talk with her mother again, she wanted their last call to be live.

  As she waited for the call to go through, she paced a little faster and nervously started biting her nails. It was a bad habit that she’d struggled with as a little girl, and she caught herself before she’d made a mess of them, but that she’d started at all told her that she was more uptight than she’d thought.

  “I’m sorry, mistress,” Nina’s voice came after the two minutes had passed. “Your mother is not available right now.”

  “What?” said Sara.

  “To repeat, your—”

  “No, no, never mind,” she said, shaking her head. “Just—just try again.”

  “Very well, mistress, I will attempt the call again. Are you upset?”

  What do you think? Sara almost snapped, before she remembered that she was speaking to a computer.

  “I’m fine, Nina.”

  “Your heartbeat is elevated. It appears that you are alarmed.”

  “It’s all right. I’ll be fine.”

  “Would you like me to fix you an herbal tea?” Nina asked. “I have several relaxing blends that may help reduce your stress.”

  Sara sighed. “That would be great, Nina. Thanks.”

  “Preparing your tea now, mistress. It will be ready in approximately three minutes.”

  “Thank you, Nina.”

  Sara collapsed back on the couch and buried her face in her hands. How had she never realized that the exodus meant she would never see her mother again? Until now, it had always been a vague and nebulous concept in her mind—just another political action goal. She had never given much thought to how it would impact her life. Now, she almost wished that it wouldn’t happen—that she could stay here at Karduna and nothing would actually change. But that was impossible.

  “I’m sorry, mistress, but your mother is not answering.”

  “Again?” said Sara, leaping to her feet. She paced to the end of the room and back before sitting back down.

  “Would you like me to try again, Mistress?”

  “Yes,” said Sara, taking a deep breath. “Please do.”

  “Very well. Your tea is ready.”

  “Thanks, Nina. I’ll get it right now.”

  She retrieved the tea from the food dispenser and sipped it slowly while standing. Whether it was the blend of herbs or the fact that she finally had something to do with her hands, the tea had a blessedly calming effect. Her breaths became longer and deeper, and the urge to pace the room slowly went away. Still, she found herself glancing at her wrist console, counting down the seconds as Nina attempted the call.

  “I’m so sorry, mistress,” Nina said after the two minutes. “Your mother is not answering.”

  Sara took a deep breath and set her tea down with shaking hands. Was it really going to be this way? Would she not get a chance to hear her mother one last time?

  “Keep trying,” she said weakly. “Let me know if you get through. In the meantime, I’m going to take a shower.”

  “Good idea, mistress. A shower will make you feel much better.”

  It will also give me time to think about what my last words to my mother should be, Sara thought. If she couldn’t get a chance to talk with her, then at least she would leave one last message.

  Nina was right—the shower worked wonders. There was something about the warmth of the water against her skin that made everything feel better. She set the pressure to its highest setting and let the horizontal jets of the shower unit hold her in place. Steam enveloped her like a warm blanket, calming her heart and clearing her mind.

  She thought of all the things her mother had meant to her. Her father had always been difficult to please, but no matter what she did, she knew that her mother would still love her. When they had divorced, it had been a lot harder on Sara than she’d let on. Part of her had wanted to leave with her mother for the moon settlement, but she knew that she couldn’t do that—no matter where she went, the Colony would always be her home.

  As an adult, she’d come to terms with the divorce, but it had always tainted her relationship with her parents. It had often annoyed her how her mother had tried to involve herself in her life from afar. Now, that all seemed so trivial.

  “Nina,” she said as she stepped out of the shower. “Have you been able to get through?”

  “I’m sorry, mistress. I’m afraid I haven’t.”

  Sara sighed. “Very well. Record and transmit this message for her.”

  The tones chimed, indicating that the recording had started. Sara was still naked from the shower, but in a way, that seemed fitting. Her emotions were just as bare.

  “Mom,” she began, “it’s me, Sara.” She stared at herself in the mirror and forced herself to go on. “By the time you get this message, I’ll probably be far away. We’re leaving—it’s the only way to save us from the Hameji.”

  She cringed to think about how her mother would blame her father for all this, but closed her eyes and went on. “The how isn’t important; what matters is that this is the last message that I’ll ever be able to send to you.” A lump rose in her throat, but she swallowed hard and choked it down.

  “I just want to let you know that I’ve always loved you, and that I always will. When you and dad split up, it was hard on all of us, but I know why you had to do it. I never blamed you for the fact that it didn’t work out.

  “I know that I haven’t always been honest with you, and that sometimes I’ve closed myself off from you or pushed you away, but even when—”

  Alarms began to sound in the hallway. A low-pitched hum sounded through the bulkheads, and the walls began to throb. Sara’s breath caught in her throat—she recognized the hum from her voyage on the Freedom Star. It was the sound a jump drive made before it engaged.

  No! she thought desperately. Not now—anytime but now! But nothing she did could turn back the clock and give her the time to say all that was in her heart

  “I love you, Mother,” she said quickly. “Never forget that. Nina, transmit!”

  “Transmitting,” said Nina. “Stand by.”

  The humming rose in pitch and intensity, making the bulkheads vibrate and the floor shake beneath her feet. Sara slammed both hands palm down on the bathroom counter-top, steadying herself. Far away, she heard something that sounded like an explosion. She held her breath as every muscle in her body seemed to tense. Was this the end? Was she going to die? Here in her bathroom, naked and alone—it seemed like such a horrible way to go.

  Her stomach suddenly fell, making her gasp. At the same time, her sense of direction completely reversed, making her feel as if she were upside down on the ceiling. She reached out frantically for purchase, but her perspective seemed to invert like an optical illusion, leaving her on the outside of the room looking in. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth to scream, but before she could, darkness enveloped her.

  When she opened her eyes, she found herself lying on the floor of her bathroom. The alarms were still blaring, but the hum was completely gone. Her sense of orientation had returned, and other than a couple of bruises on her elbows, she seemed to be just fine.

  “Mistress!” Nina cried, her voice frantic even for an AI. “Mistress, are you all right? Would you like me to call for help?”

  “No,” said Sara, standing up. “I’m fine, Nina—I’m fine.” Besides, the last thing I need is someone running in here while I’m naked.

  “Are you sure? I think you need to see a doctor.”

&nb
sp; “That won’t be necessary. Did you transmit the message?”

  “I am not sure, mistress. There was an unknown interruption in the middle of the transmission process.”

  Sara bit her lip and clenched her eyes shut as tightly as she possibly could. She didn’t get it, she thought. My last chance to send a message to my mother, and it failed.

  “Are you feeling unwell, mistress? Your body language is alarming me.”

  “Nina, go on standby until further notice.”

  “But mistress—”

  “That is a direct order, Nina. Go away.”

  “Very well,” said Nina. “Going on standby now. Goodbye!”

  Sara sat down the corner and hugged her knees against her chest. Her shoulders began to shake uncontrollably as she sobbed. More than anything else, she felt like a lost little girl. In more than one way, perhaps she was.

  Part III: The Leader

  Chapter 13

  James walked briskly down the main thoroughfare leading out from the spaceport, one hand on his energy pistol. Except for a few scattered market stalls and a handful of customers, the hallway was empty. Merchants and customers alike stood as if in a daze, their faces etched with the uncertainty and confusion that precedes mass panic.

  They’re an angry mob waiting to happen, James thought grimly. They’re lost and confused and don’t know what just happened, but when they find out, things could get ugly.

  Not on his watch.

  “Attention!” he said in a loud voice. The crowd turned to him immediately, no doubt because of the uniform.

  “What’s going on?” someone asked. “Can you tell us what just happened?”

  “It felt like the whole station just… jumped.”

  “This area is closed until further notice,” he said in a commanding tone. “You are ordered to return to your homes and stay indoors.”

  “What?”

  “Why?”

  “Return to your homes immediately,” he said again. “It’s a matter of station security.”

  The people stared at him for a moment, but one by one, they complied. Instead of fomenting into a mob, the crowd began to disperse, many of them talking in hushed tones with each other as they went.

  James let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. His hand, which had hovered next to his holster, twitched and began to relax. There wasn’t any time to waste, though. His work here was done, but the situation was far from under control.

  Mom and Dad, he thought, remembering the dinner that they had put on for him and Kayla. I have to get back to them—I have to make sure that they’re safe.

  He activated his wrist console and quickly put a call through to Sterling as he half-walked, half-ran to the main elevators. To his relief, Sterling picked up almost immediately.

  “Captain, sir! What’s going on?”

  “I need you to rally all of the men in your area to patrol the main concourse. If you see any civilians, tell them to return to their homes and stay indoors.”

  “What?”

  “Just set up that patrol,” said James. “Make your presence felt. We’re going to get through this crisis all right, but we need to prevent a riot.”

  “Why would the people riot, Sir?”

  “I can’t explain it now, Sterling, but I promise that I will later. For now, I need you to get out there and maintain the peace. Understand?”

  Sterling paused. “Understood, Sir. I’ll do my best.”

  “That’s all I can ask of you.” I just hope that it’s enough.

  James stepped onto the nearest empty elevator and punched the code for the deck where his parents lived. As the doors hissed shut, he lifted his wrist console and put a call through to Sara.

  “Sara? Are you there?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Sara?”

  Again, no response. His console showed that the call had failed to go through.

  James clenched his fist and swore. By himself, he didn’t have the authority to impose the sort of station-wide curfew that they needed to keep the mobs from forming. Only the patrician had that power, but Sara was the only real contact in the patrician’s office that he could go through and she wasn’t answering. Maybe that was a good thing—maybe she had realized how dangerous the situation was, and was busy working to quell the unrest before it started. After all, she always seemed to be at least one step ahead of him. But without any way to contact her, he was completely out of the loop. All he could do was work with Sterling to secure the spaceport and make sure that his parents were hunkered down.

  The elevator reached his deck and came to a stop. James gripped his pistol as the doors hissed open, but the corridor outside was quiet. Eerily quiet. He glanced both ways and set out at a brisk pace toward his parents’ apartment, his hand never leaving his gun.

  By now, no doubt, news had begun to spread that the Colony had somehow jumped out of its Lagrange orbit deep into interstellar space. Confusion would turn to shock, and shock would turn to anger. With the solar collectors no longer gathering energy, the power grid would probably fail, and if the grid went down while the people began to agitate, it could throw the whole station into chaos.

  As if in confirmation, the lights in the corridor began to dim and flicker.

  By the time he reached his parents’ door, he could already hear footsteps and raised voices through the bulkheads above. He drew his pistol and banged on the door.

  “Open up!” he shouted. “It’s me, James!”

  The door slid open, and his mother stared out at him, a look of concern on her face. “James? Where have you been? Why are you carrying your gun?”

  Without a word, James hurried inside and palmed the door shut. He kept watch with his pistol pointed through the doorway until it was fully closed, then locked it with the keypad. Only then did he slip his gun back in its holster and turn to face his parents.

  “James?” said his father, in a tone of voice that demanded answers.

  “It’s all right,” said James. “I just wanted to make sure that we’re safe.”

  “Safe from what?”

  “From—look, why don’t we sit down? There’s a lot to explain.”

  Above them, the shouting got worse, then fell eerily silent as footsteps sounded through the bulkheads. James ushered his parents back into the kitchen, to the table where less than an hour ago they had come to eat dinner.

  “What’s wrong?” Kyla asked, standing by the doorway. “Do we need to go?”

  “No,” said James. “We need to stay here, where it’s safe.”

  He claimed Kyla’s seat, which gave him a view of the main entranceway to the apartment, and motioned for the others to sit down.

  “We all felt something strange after you left,” said his mother. “It felt almost as if… well, as if we were on a starship making a jump somewhere.”

  “That’s impossible,” said his father.

  “Well, that’s what it felt like.”

  “And that’s what it was,” said James. “The Hameji attacked us, so we jumped the station out into deep space.”

  Both of his parents and Kyla stared at him. His father frowned and furrowed his brow, while his mother’s eyes went wide. Kyla looked as if she were ready to bolt.

  “How is that possible?” his father asked. “The Colony is a station, not a starship—it doesn’t have a jump drive.”

  “Actually, Dad, it does.”

  “But—but how?”

  “Let’s open to a news channel,” his mother said, interrupting them both. She toggled the controls on the tabletop, and the wallscreen immediately above them switched to a video feed.

  “—not sure, but it appears that we have left the Karduna system altogether,” said the announcer. “We’re receiving hundreds of videos from citizen-journalists across the Colony, showing the, uh, much changed view outside. As you can see, nothing is where it should be.”

  The camera panned left, and the right side of the screen divided to show
two simultaneous videos stacked on top of each other, each one cycling through a different feed every few seconds. Every one of them showed the milky-white starfield of deep space, with no sign of Karduna or any of the nearby asteroids.

  “Stars and constellations of Earth,” James’s father muttered. “So it’s true.”

  “If you’re just now joining us,” the announcer said, “we are reporting on the anomaly that many of you felt just a few minutes ago. It appears now that it was in fact an FTL device that transported the entire Colony out of the Karduna system. We have no official confirmation from the patrician’s office yet, or indeed any official statement on the incident, but we expect that—”

  The video feed suddenly cut to a static emergency screen, with the word ALERT in bold letters next to the logo of the patrician’s office. James’s parents jumped a little at the interruption, as did Kyla. An alarm tone sounded before the audio cut to a generic male voice program.

  “This is not a test. Repeat, this is not a test. An emergency curfew has been declared throughout the Colony, and all citizens are required to stay in their homes until further notice. Failure to comply will result in detention and arrest. Repeat, an emergency curfew has been…”

  James’s mother cycled through the channels, but all of them were broadcasting the same emergency message from the patrician’s office. There was nowhere to go for news on the unfolding situation except the message board forums, which were no doubt exploding right about then.

  “I’ve seen enough,” said James’s father. He jabbed his index finger on the table, and the wallscreen shut off at once.

  For several moments, none of them said anything. The silence was so tense, it was almost as unpleasant as the newscast. James rose to his feet, mostly to clear his mind. If there ever was a time to think, now was it.

  What was the patrician doing, cutting off the civilian broadcasts like that? The curfew was good—it would prevent any violence in the short term, giving the citizens a chance to recover from the chaos—but silencing the public media was crossing a major line. With a military-enforced curfew and seizure of all the Colony’s broadcast channels, it was as if he was setting himself up as a dictator. Even if their democracy survived this crisis, the people would not forget what he’d done.