EarthBound

by D M Arnold

  “No -- I need transportation to Earth.”

  “Whatever for? It can't be Agency business.”

  “It's personal business.”

  “Nykkyo, if you were on active status, I couldn't refuse your request. Since you're suspended, I must get approval from your superior.”

  “There's no other way?”

  “No way, Nyk.” Veska's eyes narrowed. “You're not trying to arrange an assignation with your Earth woman, are you?”

  “No -- not an assignation. Please, Veska -- it's important. I'm your friend and son. Remember?”

  His father-in-law regarded him through the circuit. “I remember you were, once.” The vidphone session terminated.

  Nyk entered Seymor's locator code. The session activated. “Hello, Nykkyo. To what do I owe this honor?”

  “Seymor, I need to travel to Earth on personal business.”

  He chuckled. “Lad, I salute your audacity. Your request is, I'm afraid, out of the question.”

  “Aren't there any assurances I can give you?”

  “Nyk, I'd love to have you here. But if word got back to my superiors that I authorized transit for you, they'd have my head on a platter. If there's nothing else...”

  “No, Seymor.” The session went blank.

  Nyk paced around the main living level, then composed and transmitted another telemessage. He went into his bedroom, slipped out of his tunic and lay on his bed. The night land breeze was wafting through the open house and he could hear the surf washing against the rocks at the base of the bluff. He laced his fingers behind his head and tried to relax.

  Thoughts of Suki swirled through his mind. Could Destiny find another way? Doubts plagued him. This is the child -- of that he was sure. He couldn't drive these thoughts from his mind, and the more he thought, the more agitated he became.

  He rose, headed for the storage room and rummaged through trays of drugs. His fingers touched a sleep aid cartridge. He picked up an injector, flipped it open, cocked the roller and loaded the cartridge. Back in his bedroom, he sat on the bed and jabbed the needle into his thigh. A touch of the trigger released the roller and sent the drug into his muscle. He stretched out and an unsatisfying sleep spread over him.

  * * *

  Nyk arose and found a cold breakfast in the storage room. The vidisplay called him from his meal. He pressed his right wrist to the scanpad.

  “Nykkyo, what a surprise!”

  His caller raised his left hand, pressed the heel of it to the vidphone camera and Nyk reciprocated. Nyk stroked his left wrist. Beneath his thumb was a mark Zander made. He recalled a day, years ago, when he and Zander were no older than thirteen each. They were sitting on the beach below the bluff.

  “Are you ready to bond?” Zander had asked him. Nyk looked down at a scalpel, a bottle of healing salve and a polypack containing tiny silicone beads used for cosmetic scarification, a fad at the time.

  Zander grasped the scalpel and Nyk presented his wrist. “You must cut deep but not too deep,” Zander said as he made an inch-long incision beneath Nyk's thumb. The wound oozed blood and Nyk began to feel lightheaded. “You're not going to pass out on me, are you?” Zander made a second, small cut adjacent to the first. He picked up some beads and pushed them into the cuts. Healing salve Zander dropped onto the wounds closed them over the beads, leaving two permanent bumps in Nyk's skin.

  “Now, you do me.” Zander handed Nyk the scalpel and turned his left wrist toward him. Nyk held the blade above Zander's wrist and hesitated. “Come on, don't be a coward!” Zander chided him. “If you can't make the cut, I will.”

  Nyk could feel his pulse pounding in his neck. He drove the blade into Zander's flesh and worked in the beads. Healing salve closed the wounds and he and Zander washed away the blood with seawater. Then Zander tapped his fresh scars against Nyk's. “This will be our greeting ritual.”

  Later, after Zander had left by groundcar for his home in Sudal, Nyk's mother called him into the Residence for dinner. Nyk and his mother frequently dined by themselves as his father often worked late. His mother pointed to the scars on his wrist. “How did you come by those?”

  He looked at his wrist. “I ... I fell against some rocks on the beach, and scraped myself.”

  “Nykkyo, how many times have I told you not to climb on the rocks? What if you had fallen and hit your head? You could lie there half a day before someone missed you and came looking for you. You're not to go on the rocks by yourself.”

  “But Mom -- Zander was with me.”

  “Zander Baxa! That boy is trouble. I wish you'd make a few new friends...”

  “I received your telemessage,” Zander said. “What can I do for you?”

  “I need transit to Earth, on personal business. I can't get there through normal procedures.”

  “Yes, I heard about you smuggling that Earth woman onworld. I'm sure you're at the top of the Agency's shit list. That act earned you some of my respect, Nyk.”

  “You're a Service career man, Zander. You know your way around the Agency. I thought you might have some ideas.”

  “Right. A good operative won't let a few regulations or red tape get in his way. When do you need transit?”

  “Nine days ... Or, sooner. I must be in New York before next Monday noon.”

  “Perhaps I can be of some help. I'm finishing up some business on Altia, and I'll be returning to Floran City on dot-197. Why don't you stop at my apartment and we'll discuss.”

  * * *

  Nyk walked out of the Residence and pressed a control on the exterior panel. The storm shutters slammed down and the house went into a slumber. He loaded his travel case into the groundcar, climbed in and directed it to the train station.

  After disembarking the train at Floran City, Nyk ordered a tubecar and rode it to the apartment building. He took the lift to the 353rd floor and pressed his wrist to the scanpad outside the apartment door. It read: “entry denied.”

  He pressed the doorchime. He pressed it again. The door unlatched and slid open. He walked in. “Senta, I'm just here to get some...” It dawned on him he was looking into a pair of pale blue eyes.

  “Who's there, Andra?” he heard Senta call from the bedroom. She walked out wearing her robe, untied and open. She spied Nyk, pulled her robe closed and tied the belt. “I see you found a means to escape your prison. That's one reason I don't like living in Sudal.”

  “Senta, I'm not returning to you. I came for some personal belongings.”

  She gestured toward a stack of polymer packing crates. “Take them all.”

  “Which one has the crest?” he asked.

  “Top one.”

  He opened the crate and removed the golden pendant. “Where are you going with that?”

  “To the museum. I'm donating it, along with my translation of Koichi's journal.”

  “You finished it?”

  “Yes. My time in Sudal did me some good. Tonight I'm meeting Zander.”

  “Then what?”

  “It depends on what Zander has to say.”

  Senta glanced at Andra and then looked into Nyk's eyes. “What are you doing with Zander?”

  “I don't know. He may be doing me a favor.”

  “Don't get involved with Zander. You and I might have our differences, but please, Nyk -- stay away from him. For your sake!”

  “He's an old friend of mine,” Nyk replied.

  “Senta's right.” Andra shook her head. “Don't get wrapped up with Zander.”

  “I'm late for my meeting with the Kyhana section curator at the museum.”

  “Where are you staying tonight?” Senta asked him.

  “At the hostel.”

  “Nyk, you can stay here if you'd like.”

  “I'll be fine at the hostel.” He headed for the tubecar platform.

  * * *

  Nyk ordered a groundcar from the livery kiosk outside the hostel and directed it to Zander's apartment building. The car carried him to an older section of Floran City
, one not serviced by the tubecars. He rode an outside lift to Zander's floor, found the door and pressed the doorchime.

  The door slid partway open and he looked into Andra's eyes. “Please -- don't,” she whispered.

  “Who's there?” he heard Zander ask.

  “It's Nykkyo.”

  “Have him come in.”

  The door slid open and Andra gestured him inside. Nyk involuntarily scanned her from head to foot. She was wearing nothing but a lifxarpa. The right side was folded down to expose her breast. The sash was secured at her waist in front with a pin bearing the Baxa crest. The loose ends hung to offer her a minimum of frontal modesty. “I'm sorry to interrupt something,” Nyk said.

  “No, not at all. Come in, Nyk.” Zander stood and presented his left wrist for their private greeting ritual. Nyk joined him at the table. Andra took a seat in the corner and sat with her hands folded in her lap. She smiled at Nyk.

  Zander made a sign to Andra. She stood and brought over a basket containing euphoriant inhalers. Zander picked one up and took a hit on it.

  Nyk tried without much success to avoid gawking at Andra. “She's a beautiful woman, isn't she?” Zander said in English.

  “Oh, yes. She certainly is.”

  “The ax'amfinen are reputed to be the most beautiful women in the galaxy. I'd say she's a fairly representative specimen.”

  Nyk declined Zander's offer of the basket. Zander gave Andra another signal and she leaned over him. He whispered into her ear. She nodded, stepped into the apartment's kitchen and returned with two tumblers of a blue, fizzy beverage, handed them to Nyk and Zander, then returned to her seat. Zander lifted his. “Your favorite, if I recall.” Nyk sipped the drink. “I remember once in school, you drank too much of that,” Zander chuckled. “You didn't realize it's intoxicating. It made for an amusing class.”

  “And, you supplied it, if I recall.” Nyk took another sip. “This is made with an herb extract from Gamma-5, I learned from my exobotany training.”

  “Tell me about your travel to Earth.”

  “I must get there no later than noon, Monday. Veska refuses to divert a packet for me without Seymor's approval.”

  “And Seymor doesn't approve. I'm involved in a project there right now and I could use someone to do some legwork for me. How long are you planning on being there?”

  “At least a few days -- I really don't know. What kind of a project? For the Agency?”

  “No, this is something else. I need someone to deliver a parcel to a contact in New York.”

  “That'll work fine, I'm headed to New York.”

  “Then, deliver another parcel to another contact in Oklahoma City.”

  “That's it?”

  “That's it,” Zander said.

  “How do I get to Earth?”

  “What's today?”

  “6636.199” Nyk replied.

  “Dot-199... They're departing dot-202,” he mused. “On dot-202, take a shuttle to the transit platform. Go to maintenance bay four on the lower level. Tell them I sent you.”

  “I've never seen a maintenance bay on the lower level.”

  “Lower maintenance level, beneath the main lower level. They'll take care of you. Do you have communications on Earth?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Good. We can play your return trip by ear.”

  “I'll need money to buy airline tickets and for cab fare. I'm sure my Agency draw account has been closed.”

  “Oh, yes. Good you remembered.” Zander stood and retrieved a polymer case from a cabinet. He opened it and Nyk saw it was full of credit cards. “You still have your other identity documents -- passport and so on?”

  “Yes.”

  Zander flipped through the cards in the case and selected one. He started to close the case, then selected a second card. “What's your Earth name?”

  “Nick Kane.”

  Zander replaced the case in the cabinet and removed a gadget. He manipulated it and inserted the cards. He removed them and they were embossed with the name Nick Kane. “Here you go. Don't forget to sign the backs.” He jotted PIN numbers on a polycard and handed it to him. “Thanks, Nykkyo. This is a great help to me.”

  Nyk stood and Andra escorted him to the door. He ordered a groundcar for the ride to the hostel.

  11 -- Destiny has led me back to you.

  Nyk disembarked the shuttle and stepped onto the transit platform. He found a lift with access to the maintenance decks. The liftcar door slid open. He rode it to the lower level and proceeded to bay four. “Zander sent me,” he said to a group of workers standing near a tender shuttle.

  A worker beckoned Nyk to a corner and handed him a flat pasteboard box and a polycard. Nyk slipped the box into his travel case and examined the card. An address in Brooklyn was hand-lettered on one side, and one in Oklahoma City on the other. “We'll be boarding in half a segment. Don't stray too far -- we don't have the luxury of waiting around for passengers.”

  Nyk had no intention of straying anywhere -- the maintenance level was dark and foreboding. Workers maneuvered tanks and containers on levitating pallets. Some were marked hazardous. He wandered around the tender shuttle, examining it.

  The hatch dropped and a worker called him inside. He sat on a bench along the rear bulkhead. Another worker sat in the pilot's seat. The hatch raised and locked into position, the pressure door closed and the bay depressurized. The spacedoor opened and the tender slipped into the void.

  The craft pulled away from the transit platform. Nyk craned his neck to see where it was heading. A large spacecraft, much larger than a passenger packet, loomed in the viewport. The vessel had two pods attached to the main hull. The shuttle approached a pod and a door opened to admit the tender into the forward bay.

  The worker lowered the hatch. “This is ExoScout 327. You'll want to keep yourself confined to this shuttlebay. They'll divert to Earth as soon as they get underway.” He pointed to the aft bay. In it was a shuttlecar, similar to the one Nyk had used in Wisconsin, except this one resembled a minivan. “Feel free.”

  The workers unloaded some canisters from the tender and placed them on levitating pallets. The pressure door closed and the tender departed. Nyk walked around the aft shuttlebay.

  White indicators glowed above the viewports. He found a jump seat and belted himself in. The viewport shutters closed and the lamps glowed blue. He felt the subjump; then the main warp jump. The indicators darkened and the viewport opened.

  Nyk climbed into the shuttlecar and began prelaunch diagnostics. The pressure door closed and the bay depressurized. He pulled back on the unistick and the shuttle backed into space. As he drew away he appreciated the immensity of the vessel and recalled the 300-series scouts were the smallest in the fleet. He watched the cruiser vanish into her warp jump.

  He tuned the shutlecar's guidance to the comm relay station and pulled into its shuttlebay. In the wardroom he dressed in Earth clothing and picked up his wallet, keys and identity papers. Then he returned to the bay and backed the car into space.

  The shuttlecar's subjump placed him in orbit around a familiar blue orb. He piloted the craft to his landing spot along the Wisconsin country road and guided it into the city, keeping a wary eye for police cruisers. He arrived at the house and pulled into the garage.

  Nyk unlocked the front door. The place was empty. He picked up the phone, heard a dial tone and placed an order for a seat on the 7 AM flight to New York, then ordered a taxi to pick him up at 6.

  He planned his day. It was 2 AM Monday. His flight would arrive at LaGuardia around 10, and he'd take a cab to Suki's house in Queens. He'd be there by 11, in plenty of time to talk her out of her 2 PM appointment. Then he'd run his errand in Brooklyn. He stretched out on the bed and laced his fingers behind his head.

  * * *

  The cab deposited Nyk at Milwaukee's Mitchell airport. His ticket was awaiting him at the counter, and he paid for it with one of the credit cards Zander had given him. He walked to the con
course and sat in the departure lounge. A glance at the placard announcing his flight sent a chill through him.

  It read, “cancelled.”

  He went to the gate podium and stood in line as passengers were rebooked. “We can put you on our 12:50. You'll be in New York by four.”

  “Four! That's too late. I must be there by noon at the latest!”

  “I'm sorry. This flight has been cancelled due to mechanical problems.”

  Nyk picked up his new boarding pass and headed for a bank of payphones. He called Suki's number -- no answer. He called every fifteen minutes.

  The gate agent announced the flight was ready for boarding. The clock in the departure lounge read 12:35. Nyk trod up the jetway and took his seat. He had one more chance. Once airborne, he'd use the air phone.

  He fastened his belt and settled into his seat. The time display on the air phone caught his eye. It read 13:40. The time zone -- Milwaukee is in the central time zone!

  The aircraft taxied to the runway and lifted off. His heart was in his throat as he watched the minutes tick by. 13:55 ... 14:00 ... Her appointment was for two PM. Was he about to experience the ultimate conclusion of temporal interference? What would the other passengers experience as he winked out at the moment the fetus was separated from her womb? No! He never would have been there at all! If he were never there, he couldn't have caused the interference. Would he oscillate between existence and non-existence? Could timespace itself survive such a paradox?

  The airplane droned on toward New York. Nyk continued to watch the time display ... 14:30 ... 15:10. He had no idea what Suki's procedure would be like. Would she be awake or asleep? What would she experience, suddenly shifting onto an alternate timeline? Would she have any recollection of him at all? Would she blissfully wake to a different life, one in which he never existed?

  He heard the announcement for the initial descent into LaGuardia. The time display read 15:45. Nyk was hyperventilating and choking back tears. How long will it take? He pressed his fist to his lips and shut his eyes. An older woman in the adjacent seat put her hand on his shoulder. He jumped. “Are you all right, young man?”