IGMS Issue 47

by IGMS

  Martin: I guess I ought to go back to work.

  "I": No, she'll find you. She'll make you look at her.

  Martin: But . . . now that Trish is . . . well . . . maybe I could . . .

  "I": She will take away your 'Love' for the world.

  The subscriber kicks a stone down into the valley.

  Consultation with mainframe would be highly beneficial, but is impossible. Connecting to mainframe would lead Celeste directly to him.

  Martin: You're right. I guess we have to go.

  UnknownObject("We") = ?

  The subscriber is almost over the ridge when the helicopter comes down and releases a swarm of spider-legged disassemblers. He turns and watches holes form in his embankment. All at once, the embankment crumbles and the sea sweeps in. The marsh is inundated. The spiderbots disappear, with the stones, down into the sea.

  Martin: Six years of work . . .

  The subscriber is unhappy, but if "I" starts to worry about that then he will descend into another glitchy loop. "I" needs to find its own embankment, its own HappinessMaximiser function, its own Trish, its own Keith, its own Worklife(). . .

  Martin: Just another illusion stripped away. It was all meaningless

  The sun is setting behind our backs. Most of the valley is in shadow, and the subscriber can almost see the shadow extending over the forests and marshes.

  But, for a brief moment, the light catches on the edge of that long line of walls: one hundred miles of stone embankment. A man is pulling a cart along the top of an embankment. As the subscriber watches, the old man stops and turns towards the sea and throws his hands outward and upward, so that the wind catches the wings of his coat and they flap all around him. The onrushing shadow swallows up first his feet and then his torso and head. For a moment, only his hands shine, almost disembodied, in the sunlight. Then they too are gone . . .

  Intertwined

  by Kate O'Connor

  Artwork by Nick Greenwood

  * * *

  She could feel each of the thirty-seven other navigators again, glowing like supernovas in her mind. It was a relief to be reconnected to the quantum arc after nearly ten minutes out of the system for a routine organic physical. Though downtime was rare, Sinette hated it.

  The quantum arc channeled her mind and energy out into space, entangling her with energy particles that bound together and became her. She drew in a grateful breath as the last twinges of connection to her organic flesh faded. The entirety of the cosmos was in front of her once again.

  Priority Class B transport from Procyon to Carina. Advise ready to engage. The message flickered at the corner of her vision. Sinette accessed the order, downloading the relevant information directly into her neural net. Her energy signature sparked with anticipation. It was a standard run, but it felt like an eon since her last mission.

  She felt Jorin's familiar presence beside her, rippling multihued excitement as he welcomed her back. She embraced him tightly, the weight of separation falling away. "I missed you."

  "Missed you too," he answered with a riot of bright energy bursts.

  She let the moment stretch before the insistent blinking of her nav orders drew her attention away. "Back to work," she told them both, disentangling herself from him and turning to trace potential pathways through the void. She flitted through the first half-million energy filaments that stretched across the galaxy, flashing between the ship and Carina in the space of an eye-blink.

  She slipped forward down a likely-looking filament, only to run headlong into an impasse. "Fragments and frayed filaments everywhere. I can't make it through from this angle." Sinette sighed a cool, cyan plume.

  "Relax." Jorin tugged her back with fond, peach-colored amusement brightening his energy signature. Most of his attention was focused towards his own ship's destination thousands of light-years away. "You know how much more slowly time runs shipside. They probably haven't been waiting more than a minute or two."

  "Thanks for the tip." She answered, laughing. "For the record, I've still been here far longer than you."

  "I should ask a tech next time I'm out. For all you know, we're only seconds apart, old lady." He spun around her in wildly colorful hyperboles.

  She grinned, remembering his first tentative steps among the stars. Even then, they fit together. He had learned quickly, refining his ability to exist in more places at a time, until he was one of the best at it. It meant he was usually quite a bit slower to find a solid path than she was, but he could twist his way through the void when the rest of them were completely road-blocked.

  Sinette turned towards the next sector, still laughing as he finished his spin with a comet-like flare. Layer on layer of filaments spun out in front of her and a flicker of violet heat caught her attention. She reoriented, falling and spinning through waves of thundering energy until she caught up with it. A new pathway spilled open as she tangled with the trail. "Got it!" She called back to Jorin. This path would take her and the ship through to Carina.

  "Go." He answered. "Come back soon!"

  Sinette sent a go-ahead message to the control center. A half-second later, she hooked into the shipboard nav computer and wove herself around the little vessel. Holding her breath, she pulled it onto the pathway, bobbing and spinning until she found equilibrium, holding the ship steady in the center of the rushing current.

  A swooping, sinking sensation caught her off-guard. She paused mid-flight, hanging motionless while she sent out a diagnostic inquiry. The link that connected her back to her physical body wobbled. For a moment, instead of stars above her she was seeing faces. With a desperate flip, she yanked the ship out of the current, dropping it into calm space. Without her to guide it, it would be torn apart if she left it in the current.

  Abruptly, everything was gone. She was being crushed, jammed into a space that was too small, too tight.

  "Jorin!" She triggered her emergency reboot with a thought.

  The quantum link sizzled and reignited. Sinette slammed back into the universe.

  "What happened?" Concern colored Jorin's energy signature. She could feel him slowing his own journey as he turned back for her.

  "Glitch. Signal failed." How long had it been since she dropped the ship? A full second? Two?

  "That way." He shot the coordinates to her. "That's where you were when I lost you."

  She tore down the pathway, using his data to fill in the gap caused by the blip. She sent out bits of herself along either side of the trail, feeling for the ship. All she needed was one resonating particle, one tiny flicker of matter to catch hold of and she would have the ship safely back in her grasp.

  "You can do it." There was a moment's hesitation in his reassurance. He wouldn't have been able to make the grab. No matter how rare it was to be both genetically compatible and intellectually fit to be a navigator, there were maybe two of the thirty-seven other navigators who traced their routes thoroughly enough to have a hope of catching a dropped ship.

  She had done it once before when a meteor strike had ripped the ship she was towing out of her grasp. That time, the ship had never been out of her sight. She pushed herself faster. It had been thirty years since Central Nav lost a ship, an eon in navigator time. She couldn't lose one after so long.

  There. She felt it. The ship was floundering, but the computer reported no casualties. She reconnected and jumped back onto the path. The link trembled again and Sinette locked her functions down to the most basic level.

  Her vision went grey. Something was badly wrong. She could barely feel Jorin as he raced towards her.

  "I've got it." He took the ship from her, his voice barely more than a whisper in her mind, although his energy patterns told her he was yelling. "I'm coming for you."

  There was a sickly yellow tremor in his presence that matched her own fear. He wrapped himself around her, trying to help her stabilize.

  For a moment, her energy signature steadied; then she was slipping away from him as the comforting, fa
miliar darkness bleached away to furious white.

  Jorin was gone. She couldn't find him. Couldn't feel him. Her breath rushed hard and frightened in her chest. The fine net of sensors and microscopic wires that wove through her body and mind and into the quantum arc suddenly ended at her skin. She tried to reach out, grab hold of something, but her arms refused to move. Other than basic survival functions, her organic systems were offline.

  Sinette's skin began to tingle. One by one, the organic components of her brain re-engaged. She blinked, re-integrating organic and mechanical systems. The process was painfully slow. Her memory and processing power were operating at a fraction of their usual efficiency. They must have anesthetized her without shutting down her processing grid.

  She opened her eyes again. A woman stood next to the bed, smiling down at her. "Welcome back!"

  "Back?" Sinette blinked. She moved her numb lips, forcing words past them. "What happened to me?"

  The woman ignored her question. "I'm going to help you sit up now. Would you like that?"

  Sinette pulled her body upright. It was always strange to feel her muscles move under her skin, but the body-movement programing that kept her organics functioning while her mind was in space still worked.

  "Good." The woman reached for her, then pulled her hand back. "How do you feel?"

  Sinette sent an inquiry to the nav network. There was no answering signal. She twisted on the bed, feeling sick. She needed to reconnect. The world was flat, her eyes trapped to a narrow band of color, her mind locked into one place and one time. She had never been completely disconnected before. The techs always left the navigators a link to help them orient themselves. The woman was still watching her, waiting for an answer. "I feel blind." Sinette said finally.

  The woman's expression tightened. "You'll be okay. I'll help you adjust. My name is Rose."

  "Why was I pulled out?" None of this followed any of the navigator protocols.

  "I rescued you." Rose's face twisted.

  Sinette turned fully towards the other woman. Her chest hurt and she felt heavy. "I want to speak with Jorin." Jorin would know what to say. He would stay calm and negotiate this unfamiliar territory with the necessary amount of tact. Sinette shook her head. She wanted the powerful, weightless togetherness that the arc provided for all the navigators. She couldn't do this alone.

  "Who?" Rose shook her head, continuing without waiting for an explanation. "No. You need to listen for a minute. You never gave anybody permission to thread you into that damn machine. You were an embryo when I . . . when I donated you." Rose broke off, swallowing hard. She started again. "I'm your mother."

  "My mother?" Sinette felt sick. Navigators didn't have an organic family. They flew through the stars together, far away from the organic world. "I don't have a mother." She didn't need one. Didn't want one.

  "I was in a bad place when I gave you up. I tried legal channels, but the courts ruled against me." Rose spoke without seeming to hear her. "Navigators who survive integration with the quantum arc are too valuable be given back after the waivers are signed. Too few make it." Anger creased her face. "It took almost everything I had to find you and get you out." Rose took Sinette's hands in hers. "It's going to be alright, baby. I'm going to take you home."

  "You kidnapped me?"

  Finally guessing what she was looking for, Sinette turned her concentration inwards. She thought her way down the vast web of cybernetic pathways that had once fused her into the arc. It was worse than she'd imagined. Whoever had disconnected her hadn't known what they were doing. The infinitely delicate connections were devastated beyond repair. She would never be close to anyone again, never share energy, never fly again.

  "How could you?" Her voice shook. "How dare you?"

  "I had to. You deserve better than a half-life plugged into a computer," Rose answered, staring at her with fever-bright eyes. "You have no idea what you've been missing. Give it some time. You'll see."

  Sinette closed her eyes, blocking out the other woman's face. Her heart hammered faster and faster against her ribcage. She wanted to go home. The air felt like acid in her lungs.

  Jorin!

  She called on every frequency she had access to. Silence greeted her, as she had known it would.

  Sinette turned on the tablet and logged on to Rose's net. She hadn't asked permission, guessing it wouldn't be granted without stipulations. After flying through most of the known galaxies with the best of technology at her back, the internet was disappointingly slow and disorganized. But it had provided everything she needed to know about operating computer systems manually.

  A box popped up on the screen asking for a password. She bypassed it and slid through a few more layers of Central Nav's security. She knew the internal workings of their communication systems as well as her body knew how to breathe. Even from the outside, it was a simple thing to log in as a guest technician. It wasn't really much of a connection to the other navigators, but it was better than nothing.

  She knew they wouldn't be able to reinstall her body. There had never been a navigator pulled out like this before. Every diagnostic she could run on her own came back the same: she was too broken.

  She pulled up a dialogue box, then closed it again. How would she ever explain it to them? She pulled up the box again and typed I'm here, Jorin. I'm here. Chest tight, she sent it. The data stream continued on unchanged.

  S-I-N-E-T-T-E

  The letters of her name flashed across the bottom of the screen, almost faster than she could see. Her hands clenched involuntarily. The pattern repeated.

  Jorin. Her hands shook as she typed his name. It had to be him. He would have been looking since the moment she had fallen out.

  Where are you? What happened? It's been so long. I thought I'd lost you forever.

  Sinette's chest ached with emotion. Time was so different in the arc. For him, it would have been nearly an eternity of searching and grieving. She typed a few commands, making sure their conversation wouldn't be recorded. I'm sorry. The words looked so inadequate on the screen. I was kidnapped. By my mother.

  I thought you were dead. His response came immediately. She could almost hear him, his anger and longing reflecting her own. Are you all right?

  No. Not really. She was going to have to tell him.

  What's wrong?

  They ripped me out. I'm broken. She couldn't feel him through the tablet. She needed to feel him, to have the comfort of a sympathetic presence wrapped around her. Could you tell Central? Maybe they can come find me.

  "Sinette! I'm home!" Rose's voice came from the front door, barely registering as Sinette stared intently at the screen.

  He was silent for several seconds. I'm not sure that's the best idea.

  What? That was ridiculous. She could do it herself, but it would be less painful to have him explain. It was one thing to tell him about the violation of being torn out and the fear it had brought. It was something else again to tell Central.

  He was silent for nearly ten seconds. What will they do if they can't reconnect you, Sinette? Even with just the tech in your organic body, you're too valuable to be let go if they can't fix you.

  "What are you doing?" Rose appeared in the door.

  "Talking to Jorin." Sinette didn't bother to look up as she typed. Her hands were trembling. She hadn't thought about that aspect at all. I don't want to be trapped.

  "Who?" Rose sounded puzzled.

  "My lover." She missed how easy it was to communicate with the other navigators. Words were too small to mean everything she wanted to say. The colors and textures of intertwined energy that let them know each other inside and out seemed an impossible lifetime away.

  "You can't have a lover." Rose's voice was flat.

  "Why not?"

  There was another brief pause before Jorin answered. She could almost feel him tracing down pathways, looking for options, discounting impossibilities, no matter how comforting. I won't leave you stuck there. We'll think of so
mething.

  "You've been with me since you were disconnected." Rose leaned over Sinette's shoulder and studied the tablet.

  "Before that." Sinette corrected her, eyes still on the screen.

  "In the arc?" Rose sat on the edge of the bed.

  "Yes."

  "You have the wrong word." Rose's hands twisted together in her lap. "You were a piece of the network. A lover is someone you are close to physically as well as emotionally. I mean, I'm sure you messaged each other, but it's not the same."

  "It is the right word. With a few notable exceptions, I'm fond of the other navigators. With him it has always been different." Memory flared. "When we're together, we are part of each other." Sinette smiled, though it felt grey and brown as it tangled her mouth, as much pain as joy. "It is blissful." I love you, she told him.

  "It's not possible." Rose repeated. "I'm sure the network doesn't allow for that kind of interaction."

  "We don't use messages to communicate. They're too slow." Sinette cut her off with a furious gesture. "Our bodies are separate, I suppose, but with the quantum system, our energy is everywhere. I can touch him as easily as I can touch this tablet."

  Love you too. Jorin's words were a lifeline. She hated that she couldn't feel the red-gold heat that accompanied those words, the solid, silvery steadiness of his devotion and respect. Forever.

  "I belong up there." Sinette looked up at Rose. "I belong with him. I don't know how yet, but I'm going back."

  "You belong here. You are more than just a computer program, Sinette." Rose folded her arms across her chest, knuckles white as she clutched her elbows. "There are so many things you haven't experienced. How can you know what you're giving up? What did they do to you that made you so afraid to try?"

  "I need him." It was more than that. It wasn't just Jorin. It was sight and sound and waves of energy. It was the scope of the universe as she soared across the galaxies. She wasn't afraid. She was homesick.

  "You want what's familiar. I understand that. But you don't need him." Rose's face was stony. "I don't want you talking to him anymore. You'll only make the transition worse for yourself."