Supernova

by C. Gockel

  Her ears curled. “If it isn’t destroyed, are we just giving our children something to deal with down the road because we can’t make a hard decision?”

  That was the logical question, and relief flickered through his circuits. Once mercy would have been his only choice; now he could be purely logical. Death for a small group of the Infected now might spare billions later.

  “But I can’t kill children.” Volka’s ears folded.

  The flickers of relief died. He did not want to cause Volka pain. Should he be appalled by his inclination to see this outpost of the Dark destroyed now? He was an M.D., Ph.D. As a doctor, he was sworn to protect human life. As a pediatrician, the fate of children was of the utmost importance to him. And yet, was an Infected human really human? Was the “child” of the Dark really a “child?” It was a collective consciousness. If there were no individuals, there was no distinction between the old and the young, though the newborn had wailed, probably because the neural architecture of the Dark’s newborns was as necessarily underdeveloped as any uninfected newborns. If they were incubated in a human womb and not in a tank, the birth canal would be too narrow for a fully developed mind. Also, as a few unethical scientists had discovered with tank-grown fetuses, humans who spent the first fifteen months of their development in tanks grew up impaired. Humans needed to come out of the womb and interact with the world to stimulate their brains.

  Whatever “software” the Dark installed, it still had limitations of human hardware.

  Which still begged the question. “Is it human?”

  Volka looked up at him. Her eyes glowed in the low light. “Are we?”

  6T9’s shoulders fell. “We are people.” But not human. Not truly members of Homo sapiens sapiens, but Homo sapiens lupus, and Homo sapiens androitus, perhaps.

  Volka’s eyes slid to the side. “It cares for its young, it is capable of reason, it is also a person.”

  “A person, not people?”

  Shrugging hopelessly, Volka wiped her forehead. “Carl’s here.”

  Inner and outer airlock doors abruptly slid open. Sundancer floated outside, her hull reflecting the pink light of the sky. Bracelet and FET12 were peering upside down from her keel, hair hanging down like pendants, ruffling in the slight breeze. They both looked worriedly at 6T9’s feet.

  He glanced down. Carl was standing there on the ramp on his hind two paw pairs. His upper pairs were behind his back, and his little head was bowed. In the past few years, much of his golden orange fur had turned white.

  “Containment is an option.” This was said by Noa.

  Carl’s whiskers twitched.

  “It—every single person it inhabits—has the memory of the faster-than-light technology that brought it here,” James said. “But if the ship it—they arrived on—is destroyed, this planet can be effectively quarantined.”

  Carl padded into the ship, and the door slid shut. To James, he said, “Will Galactic Intelligence see that it is done?”

  James’s gaze became distant. “It’s already being planned.”

  Carl nodded. “That would be enough.”

  6T9 stiffened. The One were less averse to genocide than humans, and yet they were predisposed to more mercy than 6T9 was. Volka said that werfles could only love what they regarded as family. 6T9 remembered Dr. Zeller’s escape from the Republic, how Shissh, Carl, and Solomon had all focused on security, their tails lashing in time, and The One opening the door in New Grande, inhabiting feline bodies yet acting in concert. “Is it your kin, Carl?”

  The attention of every Homo sapiens cyberneticus, androidus, and lupus snapped to 6T9.

  Carl’s tiny shoulders rose and fell. “Probably.”

  And all attention snapped to the werfle.

  Carl’s whiskers trembled. “It is possible it is just convergent evolution. Or maybe we are its descendants, or it is a descendant of us. But it really doesn’t matter. What matters to us is whether or not it is strategic to destroy the Infection here.”

  And there was the little genocidal weasel 6T9 knew and loved.

  Carl’s whiskers sagged. “We think it might not be.”

  6T9 wanted to protest; he didn’t want Volka to face the Dark again, he didn’t want Bracelet, FET12, Sundancer, or their unborn child to face the Dark, but his Q-comm went white. “There are more outposts of the Dark. We haven’t heard from them. It has switched its strategy from offensive to defensive, expansionist to isolationist. Destroy this outpost, and that strategy will be counted as a failure. It might determine it is better to be expansionist again.”

  “Yes, Hatchling,” Carl said.

  Volka sagged against 6T9’s side. It occurred to him she had not been comfortable with mercy. Billions of lives were at stake; of course she had not been comfortable.

  “It’s more dangerous now, of course,” Carl said.

  “What?” said the four descendants of Homo sapiens sapiens.

  Nodding at Volka, Carl said, “It sang a lullaby to its child. It’s creative now.”

  The life support in the ship chose that moment to suddenly cut on, whirring and chuffing as that thought sank in.

  Volka’s eyes went heavenward. “A Republic ship is in orbit.”

  Noa’s eyebrows rose. James went preternaturally still. 6T9’s Q-comm sparked. If it was in orbit, the Republic ship was hundreds of kilometers away, but Volka sensed it.

  She smiled wryly. “They won’t come closer. You told them Carl and I are here. They’re afraid if they get closer, we’ll read their minds.”

  Studying a claw, Carl said, “Like we’d need to be closer.”

  Ears curling, Volka sighed. “I want to go home anyway.”

  Gaze steady on them, Noa’s fingers rose and fell on the armrest, one by one, as though she were playing a silent tune. “We’ll stay.”

  6T9’s eyes narrowed. “With a fractured vertebra?”

  Tapping his temple, James replied, “They are preparing a med team to come to the surface. They’ll be able to get Noa care faster than you could take her to a hospital, even with Sundancer.”

  Volka’s ears came forward. “You’ll keep them honest?”

  James shifted in his seat. “They won’t want to destroy the Infected. This is a fantastic opportunity for research.”

  Volka’s ears went back. “The Republic will try to turn the Dark into something they can control, something they can use.”

  James smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes. “They’ll try, of course. But the Infected will not be harmed.”

  6T9’s processors whirred. It could wind up being disastrous … or not. Maybe it would wind up hurrying the cure for the Dark along. All the samples of the Infection had died with those who suffered from it. “They’ll be safe,” 6T9 said. “Noa and James will make sure of it.”

  “We’ll even make sure that Galactic Intelligence starts circulating some discouraging intel about this system,” Noa said, waving a hand. “Flesh eating bacteria, maybe temperatures on this planet hot enough to melt lead, a distressing lack of mineral resources.”

  “Probably all of the above and then some.” James shrugged. “It’s a whole system we’ll have to keep the Luddecceans out of, after all.”

  6T9’s Q-comm sparked. If the Luddecceans found out … well, Kenji might argue against extermination—he might win. Not out of mercy, but because quantum-teleportation fueled fusion weapons were expensive, and the Luddecceans were still worried about a Galactican invasion. Still …

  “It would be unfortunate if they knew,” Volka sighed, body sagging against him again.

  The Luddecceans had saved the galaxy, and the Republic reviled them for it. Even after Shinar, and System 5, many Galacticans still thought the Dark’s invasion could have been solved diplomatically. Now … maybe the Republic way was the correct way. His Q-comm flashed white. There was no maybe about it. Diplomacy was risky, but this time, warfare was the more dangerous path.

  Scooping up Carl with his free arm, he pulled Volka toward the doo
r and reached out to the ether to release the airlock. 6T9 didn’t know ultimately if what they were doing was the right thing, but he knew what he wanted in that moment. “Come on, let’s go home.”

  Volka scanned the minds of the Galactic Fleet vessels as they left the Infected’s planet. There was no thought of destroying the Dark. There were lots of thoughts of scientific discoveries that would result from opening up diplomatic relations with it—even if those relations had to remain top secret or risk Luddeccean intervention.

  There was no Galactic embassy on Luddeccea at the moment, or Luddeccean embassy on Earth. Those had been disbanded not long after James’s last trip to Luddeccea, when he’d delivered the address to Lauren G3’s server. All official interactions between Luddeccea and the Republic happened on System 11. Eleven had broken away from the Republic in the end. With S11O2 being colonized, and its rich oceans and lands being cultivated, System 11 didn’t need the inner systems anymore. The other outer systems were thinking of following suit.

  Her ears flicked, focus returning to the Republic ships … just in case … She huffed. Still no thoughts dangerous to the Infected, but there were lots of thoughts focused on Carl, Sundancer, and Volka reading their minds and stealing state secrets. She glanced down at Carl. The werfle rubbed two little paws together. His eyes narrowed. “They fear us. Excellent.”

  Sundancer flashed a giddy yellow. “Mom and Carl are being naughty.”

  Sixty squeezed Volka’s waist. “Volka and Carl are making sure that no one aboard the ship wants to hurt the people below.”

  “And we’re giving them nightmares!” Carl smacked his lips as though he’d just had a bite of a delicious rat.

  Rolling her eyes at Carl’s evil plans, Volka leaned against Sixty and found herself smiling. She hadn’t told Sixty she was doing that. He’d just known—and hadn’t thought it was evil.

  Sundancer’s hull went dark. “There are Infected People on the planet.”

  Volka shivered.

  Sitting on the floor, playing a game of Go, Bracelet and FET12 looked between each other. FET12 had gotten new synth skin so he didn’t scare the other children in his classes. He didn’t hide his face anymore, and both he and Bracelet looked worried.

  Volka swallowed, not sure how to explain to Sundancer. The ship could warp the waves like a ptery could cut through the sky, but her wisdom was that of a child. Thankfully, Sixty spoke for her. “The Dark changed. It had to change. The Skimmers changed to fight the Dark, the Dark has changed not to fight.”

  Sundancer’s hull brightened at the words, a silent, “Hmmm …”

  Outside, the planet fell away. It was pale orange and yellow, with icy caps, and only the faintest of blue lines cutting across its surface. The ring was definitely pink. It was very pretty, and perhaps reading that silent assessment, Sundancer did not jump away, letting Volka savor the sight.

  6T9’s shoulders fell, and Volka put her hand on top of his. “What is it?”

  He gazed down at the planet, eyes luminous in its glow, but there were lines etched across his brow. “You told me once that when people spoke of not bombing Planet Zero, they felt … righteous. I do not feel righteous; I feel worried.”

  Volka remembered the event he was talking about. A party in an inner system they had attended with the dire wolves, sometime after the Luddecceans’ role in the Battle Zero had been revealed, but before the Skimmers’ part had been widely known. It had been a cocktail party, hosted by one of New Skye’s celebrities, filled with the rich and the beautiful. It had been so easy for them to dismiss the Luddecceans’ actions. “Back seat hovering,” Sixty had called it at the time. Volka still remembered the vehemence in the Shinar hearts. It was a lot like the vehemence of the devout declaring someone as a sinner. That was God’s role.

  Her ears curled at Sixty’s comment. “Maybe some decisions are never meant to be comfortable. Maybe if they are comfortable, you’re just displaying your ignorance.” There were potentially billions of lives at stake if they were wrong. She felt the baby inside her kick and wrapped her hand around her midriff. They were potentially putting him at risk.

  FET12 said, “It didn’t hurt our family. We were right not to hurt it this time.” FET12 still couldn’t advocate for violence … so that part wasn’t really surprising, but the words “our family” made her ears perk. They were a family—three androids, a telepathic spaceship, a weere, and a werfle and … she massaged her stomach … one exciting unknown. “Once I thought werfles and androids were demons,” she whispered.

  Rising to his hindmost paw pairs, Carl looked at her, aghast. “What do you mean once?”

  Volka raised her eyebrow at him.

  “If you weren’t expecting,” Carl said, putting a paw to his chest. “I might bite you.”

  Volka smiled. “But we are all just creatures trying to find our way in the galaxy, and we found each other and now we’re family. Maybe one day the Dark will be part of our family, too.”

  6T9 drew away from her, FET12 and Bracelet looked at her with wide eyes, and Sundancer trembled.

  Carl coughed. “You know, I’ve seen how the Dark builds families, and I think that I’d just rather it not be that friendly with me, if you know what I mean.”

  Volka’s ears folded. She was an idiot. “That isn’t what I meant …”

  Four heads leaned closer. One spaceship dimmed.

  Volka flung out her hands. “Maybe we’ll find some way to coexist, some way we can’t imagine, like I couldn’t imagine sentient spaceships or …” She gazed up at 6T9, who was still outrageously handsome to her. “Or that an android could love me, or …” She threw her arms out to encompass the universe. “Or that I would someday take day trips to the other side of the galaxy.” The universe held unknown terrors, but unknown and wondrous possibilities as well.

  Sundancer … flickered uncertainly.

  “Don’t get Infected, Mom,” FET12 said.

  Bracelet coughed, and her eyes slid to FET12.

  Carl whispered to them, “Remember, she’s a Luddeccean.” Their eyes widened, they nodded at the werfle, and then they turned back to their game, Carl sliding into FET12’s lap for a scratch.

  Volka’s shoulders fell. She guessed the wonders weren’t so wondrous to them; they were all wonders they were born into.

  But 6T9 gently turned her around and smiled down at her. “Don’t mind the children,” he whispered, setting his arms around her. “My life has become so much more and better than I could ever have imagined.”

  He bent down and kissed her, and at that moment, everything turned to light.

  * * *

  FIN

  And so concludes Volka’s and 6T9’s journey. I started writing this long before COVID, and I fear it struck a little too close to home during the epidemic. Thank you so much for sticking with me until the very end. I am sad to leave! I may come back to visit this universe in short stories or novellas, but any serious return would probably have to star a member of The Dark … and possibly Volka and 6T9’s son—having a true telepathic mom would be a struggle!—and Alaric and Alexis’s daughter. I imagine the Darmadi’s having a girl only on attempt number six, so she’d have five older brothers in a conservative society without a lot of opportunities for women. I imagine she would be a terror.

  I’d love to stay in touch, and let you know about my next adventure. Visit my website to see all my books and stories, and join my mailing list for updates, sales, and freebies.

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