The Last Exodus

by Paul Tassi

  “Stop,” she said sternly. “As much as I’m glad you’re awake, I’ll kick your ass if you try to get up.”

  Alpha’s head came into view.

  “Did I not say he would regain consciousness?”

  “Yes you did, Dr. Frankenstein.”

  “Was he an accomplished surgeon on your world?” Alpha asked earnestly. “I am impressed with his survival given our limited medical resources on this ship.”

  Lucas tried to talk, but his voice was hoarse.

  “Can . . . someone . . .”

  Asha fished around and came back with a container of water. She fed it to Lucas and it trickled down his throat and face. It was enough.

  “Can someone explain what’s happening here? Who . . . is that?”

  He rolled his head in the direction of the dead body next to him.

  “Oh, you mean Vlad?” said Asha.

  “What?”

  Alpha chimed in.

  “I do not know why she refers to him as that. Specimen eleven is the reason you are alive.”

  Lucas was woozy from whatever pain remedy he’d been given. He fought to keep focus.

  “Where did he come from?”

  “This is a fun story,” Asha said as she sat on the end of the table with her legs crossed.

  “Specimens one through twelve were acquired on your planet before we met. Part of my mission there was to collect Sorans, humans, for further study. Perhaps your localized species would have some significant biological distinction of interest that the other worlds’ populations lacked.”

  Lucas propped himself up on his elbows. Alpha continued.

  “During the war, I collected a healthy specimen from as many diverse regions of the planet as the ship’s course would allow. They were to be studied on the journey back to Xala, and housed there for further use.”

  Alpha checked a nearby machine that was hooked up to Lucas. He nodded, satisfied.

  “But they’re . . . alive.”

  “Technically yes, but realistically, no.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “When the ship crashed and lost power, they went without oxygen for a prolonged period of time. By the time I was able to restore it, every specimen had ceased all neural activity.”

  “They’re brain dead,” Asha clarified.

  “But how have you kept them kept alive all this time?”

  “The liquid in which they are suspended is what feeds them. Their hearts beat and blood pumps through their veins, but they will never awaken.”

  Lucas didn’t understand.

  “Why have you kept them all this time? I thought you would have eaten them when you were starving, scavenging for parts.”

  Alpha sighed.

  “It was . . . a difficult prospect to resist. But before I met the pair of you, they were to be all that was left of your species when the ship left Earth. They may not live, but their genetic material is . . . valuable. Their preservation took precedence over my hunger.”

  “Why did you keep this from us?”

  “I was not sure how the two of you would react, as it does appear rather morbid. Though I imagine you understand the reasoning. Do you not think that your own scientists captured many Xalans for similar study?”

  Lucas pondered that for a moment. The answer seemed obvious.

  “I suppose so. It’s still a bit bizarre to see. I was sure I was dreaming. I almost think I still am.”

  “You have regained consciousness, I assure you.”

  “And . . . Vlad? What did you do to him?”

  Asha hopped off the table and took over storytelling.

  “When that last bastard showed up, you got blasted pretty bad. By the time I shot him, your intestines were all over the floor. It was . . . unpleasant.”

  She traced her finger lightly along his scar. He was so doped up with painkillers, he couldn’t even feel her touch.

  “Alpha picked you up and raced you down here. He ran off and a minute later came back with poor Vlad here. By the time I could manage to ask where he’d pulled a fully grown human from, he’d already carved out his stomach to replace your ruptured one.”

  She looked over at the Russian on the table.

  “Once you were stable, Alpha showed me the room and explained. We’ve kept Vlad on ice in case you ended up needing any of his other parts. So far, besides the stomach you’ve gotten a kidney, a liver, and about twenty feet of intestine.”

  Lucas turned to Alpha.

  “What happened to the precedence of their lives?”

  “I deemed yours more valuable than his, as you still possess cognitive function.”

  Alpha was always so sentimental. Lucas felt around his midsection with his hands, but again, couldn’t feel anything.

  “We were a transplant and blood type match? For all those organs?”

  “Our medicine has no requirement of such things. The organs have been adapting to your body over the course of the past thirty-five days.”

  Lucas was shocked.

  “I’ve been unconscious for over a month?”

  He felt his face, where there was only light stubble. Had Asha been tending to him, the way he had with her? Though it seemed he had been out of commission for far longer.

  “You should rest now,” Alpha said, typing a few commands into a nearby machine.

  “I’ve been resting for a month.”

  “It is a monumental achievement that you have regained consciousness, but your body is still recovering from the shock of your trauma. Rest now, and you can move back to your quarters soon.”

  When Lucas woke the next day, he found all the wires, save a few, detached from his body and a neatly folded pile of clothes next to him. He unclipped the remaining cords. This time, no alarms sounded. Sliding into a T-shirt, jeans, and socks, he found he had only minimal discomfort where there had been crippling pain. The table next to him was now bare, and his savior Vlad had been carted off to god knows where.

  He found himself able to walk without staggering, and though his head was cloudy, he wasn’t in a daze the way he’d been previously. The door across the hall was still open, and he walked inside once more, now fully aware that the existence of the bizarre room was not, in fact, a dream.

  Alpha’s collection floated silently while Lucas thumbed through some of the menus. There was no personal data, merely scientific notations about their height, weight, estimated age, and a few other variables Lucas couldn’t translate.

  «Strange place, isn’t it?»

  He turned to see Asha leaning up against the doorframe.

  “Soran, huh?”

  «You’ve been gone quite a while.»

  «I suppose so.»

  She reverted back to English.

  “Can you imagine if they were awake? We’d have quite the little party on our hands.”

  Lucas scoffed.

  “I bet we would have lost most of them between Norway, the Sentinels, and the fuel depot. They didn’t have to survive in the wild the way we did. They wouldn’t have been ready.”

  “Can’t argue with that.”

  She walked over to a blond woman whose readout said she was Australian.

  “Boob job.”

  Lucas chortled.

  “What?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “How can you tell with the bandages?”

  “No one that skinny has a rack like that. And trust me, I was around a dozen pair of these a day in my line of work.”

  “Stripping?”

  “Acting, smart ass.”

  Lucas walked over to the floating Frenchman, who looked to be about thirty.

  “What was your show about anyway?” he asked.

  Asha laughed.

  “Ah wow, it seems like a century ago now. It was called Cyberhawks.”

  “Sounds like a 1980s Kurt Russell movie.”

  Lucas slid down to rest on the ground. Asha joined him.

  “It was about Cassidy Clark, a sexy, ass-kicking gover
nment super spy. The big twist was that at the end of season one, you find out she’s an android. We were only shooting the fourth episode when the first ship showed up.”

  “A spy huh? You don’t seem like the government type.”

  “I wasn’t. Cassidy was a cute blond actress they pulled off Gossip Girl. I played the villain, Victoria Ravenholm. She was the CEO of a bio-tech firm by day and ruler of the criminal underworld by night.”

  “I’d say that suits you more.”

  “There was far too much black leather involved.”

  Lucas laughed.

  “Was it any good?”

  “God no, it was awful. I would have been lucky if I ever worked again after that. Thankfully, aliens showed up and I never had to read the reviews.”

  Lucas grinned and Asha fell silent for a long while. She spoke in a different tone.

  “You know you really saved our asses up there,” she said, lifting her head toward the CIC above them. “Mine and Noah’s. If you hadn’t pulled us back, that blast that hit your stomach would have gone right through my chest, and probably into the kid.”

  Lucas shrugged.

  “Nah, that wouldn’t have been a problem. Alpha could have just given you Sydney’s heart over there.”

  He motioned to the Australian woman.

  “Oh, is that her name?”

  “Yeah, and maybe he could have thrown in the silicone for good measure.”

  Asha punched him in the arm so hard Lucas felt it even through his meds, but she couldn’t help but laugh. Her smile faded.

  “But really, thank you.”

  It was the first time she’d ever expressed such a sentiment. And it seemed earnest. Lucas nodded.

  “You should go see Noah; he’s been asking for you.”

  “Asking?”

  Noah lit up when Lucas arrived in the barracks. He crawled over to his leg and pulled himself up by the fabric. After raising his arms, Lucas picked up him up.

  “Ooo-kas!” Noah said excitedly. Lucas beamed.

  “You taught him that?”

  “He’s been to visit quite a lot. And he’s really taken to those chair sessions you started with Alpha.”

  “Ah-fa!” Noah squealed with delight, throwing his arms in the air.

  “Wow, he’s acquired quite the vocabulary. What other tricks have you taught him?”

  Asha folded her arms as she thought.

  “Well let’s see, ‘noo-noo’ is food. I guess he was going for ‘nutrients.’ He says something like ‘hessip’ that I’m convinced is spaceship. His most common words, yes, no, up, down, and the like, are all in Soran.”

  As if he understood, Noah yelled out a word.

  «No!»

  “I’m sure Alpha is loving this,” Lucas said.

  Asha took Noah from him.

  “He doesn’t seem to mind. He’s been in the lab a lot, working around your corpse. Something strange is going on though. He’s quiet. Somber almost. I thought it was just because of you, but now I’m not so sure.”

  Noah was back on the floor, rifling through his toys yelling «Yes!» «Yes!» in Soran.

  “I feel like he’s been keeping something. Maybe he’ll spill it now that you’re awake.”

  The two kept playing with Noah until he wore himself out and fell asleep clutching his favorite holoball. His blond hair had grown thicker, and Lucas guessed he’d gained about ten pounds since he’d last seen him. The past month had been good to him, and perhaps being under Asha’s watchful eye wasn’t quite as dangerous as Lucas initially imagined.

  Over the next few days, Alpha said nothing to them that indicated something was amiss. But the truth was, he said very little to them at all. Before Lucas’s injury, he was almost jovial with the promise of escape to Sora, but now? He spoke rarely of future plans, only concerned with Lucas’s ongoing recovery and the continued functionality of the ship. But he walked around as if in a daze. Sometimes Lucas would pass him in the hall, and he wouldn’t even acknowledge his presence. Something was wrong alright.

  Eventually Lucas had enough. He retrieved Asha from her now reassembled quarters in the armory and the two of them marched into Alpha’s lab, shutting the door behind them.

  “Hello,” Alpha said politely. “What is the purpose of this visit?”

  He didn’t look up from his table. It didn’t seem like he was actually working on anything.

  “What are you doing?” Lucas asked.

  “I . . . uh, I was just calibrating the [garbled].”

  “The what now?”

  “It is a very . . . complex device. I cannot—”

  Asha interrupted.

  “Cut the bullshit Alpha!”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’ve been moping around here for the past month. I thought it was because you felt guilty about Lucas getting shot, but it’s clear it’s something beyond that.”

  “I regret my involvement in his injury. I should have properly scanned the ship before—”

  “But that’s not what it is, is it? There’s something else.”

  “How do you know such a thing? Does your species subset have latent telepathy?”

  Asha rolled her eyes. Lucas answered.

  “It’s a bit easier than that. You’re not yourself. I’ve only been up a few days, but I can see it. Just tell us what’s going on.”

  Alpha sighed. He stood up from his seat at the desk and began pacing around the room.

  “When we made our escape from the [garbled] station, Commander Omicron arrived in the system at nearly the precise moment we activated the core.”

  Lucas remembered the flash he had seen on his screen of Omicron’s face.

  “I thought that’s what I saw, but I wasn’t sure.”

  Alpha continued.

  “As such, our voyage is now doomed.”

  “Wait, what?” Asha said, confused. “We’ve been running away from him this entire time. We haven’t seen him in a month!”

  “Such things do not matter. When he arrived back in the Earth system, we disabled his ship before we departed, therefore he was not able to immediately follow us. His ship would have been stranded for days before repairs were made.”

  Alpha increased the rate of his pacing.

  “As such, I believed taking a day to broadcast the solar storm virus to the station was not putting us at a risk. It seems I miscalculated.”

  “I don’t get it,” Lucas said. “What does that have to do with our journey?”

  “Omicron jumped into the system mere seconds before we jumped out of it. That means when we leave our space-time tunnel, and arrive in Soran space, he will no longer be days behind us, but minutes. The highly advanced long-range core in his craft can be reactivated after previous use in mere seconds, not hours like in most vessels. He will intercept our craft.”

  Lucas began to understand. Asha pressed.

  “So what? We’ll fight him. We took out a hundred sentinels leaving Earth. We blasted through dozens of Xalans at the fuel depot. We can take him.”

  “We cannot,” Alpha said grimly. “Our ship has almost no reserve weaponry, and his craft is the most advanced in the fleet. We exploited a technical hole in the ship’s design that only I was aware of, a trick that will not work twice.”

  Alpha finally stopped pacing.

  “Rather, we will undoubtedly be disabled mere minutes after arriving in Soran space, and then we will be boarded. I will be apprehended and you will be executed.”

  Asha didn’t buy it.

  “We can fight. I’ve killed plenty of your damn soldiers. We all have. We have weapons.”

  “She’s right,” Lucas said. “We can make a stand. With what we’ve lived through, I like our odds.”

  Alpha shook his head.

  “You do not comprehend. Commander Omicron travels with an escort of elite soldiers that act as his personal guard. They are highly trained, and the most deadly fighting force my civilization has to offer. Picking off starving infantrymen o
n Earth or ill-prepared custodians in a remote fuel depot has not readied you for this.”

  They were silent.

  “Commander Omicron himself may be more dangerous than all the members of his squadron combined. As I explained, he is a Shadow, infused with more strength, speed, and intelligence than all of us. His feats upon the battlefield are legendary.”

  “Legends can be exaggerated,” Asha said.

  “Not in his case, I assure you.”

  “So what?” Lucas said. “You’re just giving up?”

  Alpha sat back down at his table, avoiding eye contact.

  “I regret my role in causing this. We should have raided the fuel depot outright instead of waiting an additional day. This all may have been avoided.”

  “And we might have died in the attempt or he might have caught us anyway! There’s no point in thinking like that.”

  Alpha said nothing. Lucas circled around him.

  “The Alpha I know would have a plan. You’ve had one every step of the way so far. As the smartest person left alive in your civilization, it would be a disgrace for you to roll over now without even trying.”

  Asha broke in.

  “What about your family? Your people murdered them. Omicron probably did it himself for all you know. Don’t you want to know why they died? Don’t you want to avenge them?”

  Alpha threw his claw up dismissively.

  “Of course! But such desires are not possible. We do not have the resources to survive this upcoming encounter.”

  “Then make them,” Lucas said. “Build them. It’s what you do. We have time. How far away is Sora?”

  “Forty-three days.”

  “You’re telling me you can’t make us battle ready by then? That’s an eternity!”

  “We have no materials for such projects.”

  “Of course we do,” Lucas said, raising his arms out wide. “Use the ship. Use whatever you have to that isn’t absolutely necessary for us to fly and breathe. There’s more technology in this thing than the entirety of our former planet.”

  “It does not matter.”

  Lucas was growing angry. He shoved his finger into Alpha’s face, inches away from his sharp, gray teeth.

  “It does matter! I haven’t come halfway around the galaxy to die a light-year away from the finish line. And neither have you.”