by I. O. Adler
“Maybe you missed it, but it’s here. Our request was simple. We get my mom…we get Sylvia Vincent and Hamish Townes back and you return us home. But the Melded are taking her with them.”
The engineer’s voice was somber. “Yes. They demanded the harvester once we departed from the Framework. We intended to leave peacefully. We never believed they would follow and attempt hostile action.”
“They’re here to steal it?”
“We aren’t willing to fight.”
Carmen waved her arms in frustration. “They can do that? Just take it and you’ll let them? What about this Framework and the other races there?”
“The council on the Framework has no enforcement authority. And not all member species are opposed to the seizure. Most haven’t completed meaningful repairs of their vessels and a few have proven unwilling to do so. We offered any who wish to upload and join us. But a vocal faction agrees with the Melded on their course of action and have declared a willingness to fight against the enemy. A minority among us within the simulation share this wish. They claim that all resources within the Framework should be turned over to their cause, including our harvester.”
“How does my mother fit in here?”
“They believe Sylvia Vincent retains control.”
She took a moment to process this. Why hadn’t the Cordice just told them about her and Jenna? If they were resigned to giving up the harvester, it would get the Melded off their spaceship.
Barrett had emerged from his place behind the console but hadn’t said a word. His face was damp and paler than before. He looked like he had just run a marathon and was ready to collapse.
A second red light popped up next to She Who Waits. The worm’s voice blared.
“Designate Primary Executive is requesting my assistance,” She Who Waits said.
Carmen scowled. “That wasn’t a request. It can wait.”
“The Primary Executive needs me to speak with designate Sylvia Vincent.”
“If he can talk to her, so can I. I’m asking you to let me talk to her first. Is she in there? Put me through.”
The Cordice engineer interjected. “After what your mother Sylvia did during the caretaker malfunction, we’ve restrained her so she can no longer access any systems.”
“What does that mean? She’s in prison?”
“Hardly. She has liberty within the simulation except for any external communications. She took advantage of us when she sent the harvester to Earth to bring you here.”
There was a story there, but Carmen suspected she had little time to hear it. Somehow Mom had duped the Cordice into letting her connect to a bot and had reset the encryption when commandeering the harvester. How long before the Primary Executive found out that her mom didn’t hold the keys anymore?
“Can you let her talk to me?” Carmen asked.
It took less than a second. The voice she next heard, crisp and clear over the Cordice communication system, was her mother’s.
“Hello, Carmen. You and Jenna made it this far. I’ve missed you so much and I love you. We’re so close. You’ve done well. And in a short while, we’ll all be together again.”
Chapter Thirty
Her mom’s voice.
Carmen knew it, and it didn’t sound confused like when they had encountered the mom-bot on board the first sphere. Yet her mother had made hundreds of transmissions during her journey to Mars. Newscasts, voicemail, video mail, and all the interviews during the lead-up to the mission. Barrett had made the point that it could be anyone using their mom’s image, voice, and speech pattern.
Carmen couldn’t shake the fresh suspicion that either the Melded or the Cordice might be willing to deceive her by ruse. They needed her and Jenna’s access to the harvester. Holding on to her mom would be their leverage.
One of She Who Waits’ red translation lights twinkled. The worm blurted a fresh command. She Who Waits replied in a short string of sounds that were as bubbly as the Primary Executive’s words, yet somehow polite.
Carmen didn’t get a translation.
But She Who Waits didn’t move and appeared content to wait and defy what might have been another summons, whether out of duty as a translator to Carmen and the Cordice or because of Carmen’s appeal to her. Her choice begged a new question. Did she or the rest of her kind, the Dragomen, have any preference in the outcome of who controlled the Cordice tech?
“Mom, are you okay?”
“Yes, honey. I’ve gotten used to being inside the simulation. It’s a dozen worlds and a hundred habitats perfectly recreated. There’s lifetimes of things to see and do. I’ve met people who lost their home planets and have learned so many of their stories. But Carmen, there’s an urgency to what happens next.”
“Wait. How do I know it’s really you?”
“What else can I tell you? Ask me something, then. Something only you know.”
Carmen thought of a dozen things from her own childhood, about Dad or their homes during their many moves before settling in Garden Village, California, or about Jenna and the grandkids. But if Barrett was right that the aliens might have the internet downloaded, then what secrets remained?
She leaned closer to the white light above the console. “Tell me something I don’t know. Why space?”
“I don’t understand, honey.”
“You were at the top of the age bracket for Mars candidates. You had two daughters and didn’t live anywhere close to Houston. You knew you weren’t going to get a first or even a second alternate spot. But still you signed up. Jen and I were both still in school. Dad wasn’t well. It was going to take you away for months at a time and if you were accepted you’d be gone for years. How could you?”
It was a question reporters had posed to her mom before using more polite language. Her mom’s answers were always pat, always guarded and pained as if the choice had been a near thing. But Sylvia Vincent had never asked her daughters, and Carmen had never put the question to her so bluntly.
Sylvia Vincent’s announcement to her family had been made over a Saturday spaghetti dinner.
“I’m going to Mars.”
That was it, end of discussion. The likelihood she would set foot on board the launch vehicle was slim. But she would enter the training program and participate in every facet of prep leading up to the mission just like the primary crew.
Her mom let out a sharp breath. “How could I not, Carmen? It’s what I raised you to believe. You could be anything, you and your sister. Nothing can stop any of us. I cared for you and you were never without.”
“We needed our mom.”
“And I didn’t stop being your mother by signing on to the mission. We talked every day when you were around. And I came home every chance I got. I’m sorry about your father. But I couldn’t put my life on hold for him and you shouldn’t have either.”
Had her mother just said that? “Caring for dad when he was going through chemo wasn’t me putting life ‘on hold.’”
“You know what I mean. He made his own choices. I wasn’t going to set aside mine. He left me. And you should have finished college. But Carmen, you know that my work was too important.”
“More important than us?”
“That’s a false dichotomy. You and Jenna are the most precious things in my life. But my career is meaningful. I believed in our mission as a country and as a planet. I still do, especially now. Look at everything you two have done to get here. I’m so proud of you.”
“Jenna lost her leg. We were nearly crushed when coming here. And we don’t know how we’re going to get home.”
“There’s a lot to discuss. But the Cordice helped Jenna and you’re both going to be okay. We just have this situation we need to solve. Now does that pass your test or do you have some Myers-Briggs nonsense in mind to see if I am who I say I am?”
The impatient remark, big words when she got testy, doubling down on how free her conscience was for what had happened between her and Dad…
Typical Mom.
“The Melded took your body. Why did they do that?”
“The Cordice related their debate with the Primary Executive. It appears the Melded leader believes I can be persuaded into giving up control of the harvester.”
Carmen tried to imagine her mom’s face somewhere beyond the white light. “So we give it to them.”
“It’s not that simple. When the Melded leave here they’ll turn their back on the other survivors on the Framework. It’s what the Cordice were going to do. But the Melded have their own plans, and aren’t afraid to use force.”
“She Who Waits explained some of it. It’s not our business. We have no way of understanding what’s involved between a group of aliens. If they’ll let you go, I’m going to tell Jenna to release the harvester into their control. The Melded will have no reason to keep you prisoner. And then one of them might be willing to bring us back home.”
Her mom laughed. “They made it our business when they led the enemy to our solar system. I haven’t been idle since the Cordice took me in. I’ve studied their history and as much about the Framework races as I could. Even if the Melded or anyone else was willing to simply ‘bring us back home,’ I wouldn’t go. I can make you and Jenna safe. And my work here is only just beginning.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means our world has a choice to make. And in case it’s too late for that, at least my family will be preserved from what’s about to happen.”
“This enemy is coming back?”
“Yes. And there won’t be time for Earth to do much about it. But here we have a chance, working with the Framework. With the harvester under our control, we have a say.”
Carmen clenched her jaw. “You mean leverage. You stole the Cordice ship. It doesn’t belong to you. Let the Cordice deal with it before you get the Melded and anyone else mad at us and our entire planet.”
“I know it’s a lot to process. You’re tired. After my first low orbit launch I slept for twelve hours. What I need is for you and Jenna to return ship authorization to me—”
The white light winked out.
Carmen waved her hand over the hologram console. “Mom, are you there?”
When it flashed back to life, Jenna spoke. “Car, it’s me. I was listening. But the Cordice just cut the channel. I can’t raise them.”
She Who Waits only had one of her red lights displayed. “According to the communication signature, it wasn’t the designate engineer but one of the other Cordice council leaders, designate not yet known, who severed your communication. I…please wait…I have new requests for service.”
The guard at the door hurried over. Said something in his metal voice and punctuated the order with his weapon. He was pointing it at She Who Waits.
“I am summoned,” she said, “and I cannot delay any longer.”
Carmen wanted to intervene but the Melded soldier didn’t look like he’d hesitate to fire.
Barrett stepped forward. He had been listening the whole time and hadn’t said a word. But now he addressed the soldier. “Hold on. Let me help you Melded. Take me to the Primary Executive and I can give him what he wants. He’s misread the situation.”
Carmen glared at him. “What are you doing?”
“Fixing this. You’re out of your depth.”
She Who Waits spoke with the guard.
Metal Voice replied to Barrett, the translation loud and clear: “What are you talking about, human? Repeat what you said.”
Carmen touched She Who Waits. “Don’t translate for him.”
Barrett shoved her and she stumbled to the floor. “Listen to me. If your boss wants the harvester, he doesn’t need Sylvia Vincent. Who he needs is his daughter Jenna and I can take you to her.”
As Carmen began to rise, Metal Voice wrapped a scintillating tentacle around her wrist. A jolt shot through her arm that made every part of her body tense up. She collapsed and the world faded to black.
Chapter Thirty-One
The pins and needles ran from head to toe, but the worst of it was an intense itch inside her nose and mouth. Carmen couldn’t move to rub her face of the irritant. She also couldn’t spit and felt as if she might choke if she swallowed. She had a mouthful of saliva that dribbled from her lips.
Voices around her, but none of them human. They all became a blur of sound. At least she could see well enough.
Barrett and She Who Waits were no longer in the audience chamber. Green Eye and Four Arms were back. Green Eye made a soft throat sound as he inspected her. He rolled her onto her back and kept her head propped up. Pressed something to her skin which beeped after a moment. He began fussing with a device while consulting a floating display.
What are you doing, she wanted to ask. Wanted to shove him away. Wanted to scream. But her throat and mouth remained paralyzed. What had Metal Voice done to her?
And where had Barrett gone?
At least she knew the answer to that one. He was handing them all over to the Melded Primary Executive, who would now know that it wasn’t Sylvia Vincent who controlled the Cordice harvester but her daughter Jenna.
She felt a sharp prick on her neck.
“Ow!”
Green Eye was putting away something the size of a thumb drive. He made an entry on the virtual screen, where a ghost outline of a humanoid hovered with body parts both colored and labeled.
The sensation on her skin was replaced by a steady itch. The tension in her throat eased and she managed to cough and spit. She surprised herself when she was able to scratch her nose and she took a moment to massage her mouth to rid it of the awful numbness.
“What did you do to me?”
Green Eye whipped up a pictograph and played it in a few different iterations, but the images told the story. A stick figure got a shock from a round figure, fell down, and was now sitting back up. Did Metal Voice hit her with a weapon or was it contact with his skin that had taken her out?
Whatever had happened, Green Eye had just reversed it.
She struggled to rise, but her legs wouldn’t cooperate. She leaned on the hologram console and managed to sit on it. Green Eye leaned in with a new gadget in hand but she slapped him away. He croaked amiably and put the device into his bag. Crusted blood gummed up the fur beneath his nose and mouth.
“Your boss…he’s not a nice one, is he?”
Four Arms clicked and Green Eye obediently collected his gear. Additional clicks followed, with more than a few of them directed at her.
She couldn’t manage a smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”
The guards took their post at the door. Carmen didn’t think any bluff was going to get her out. She scooched to the end of the console and stared at where the light would appear.
“Jenna? Can you hear me?”
But her sister didn’t reply. Carmen noticed a loose panel the size of an electrical outlet on the floor. Beneath it she found melted wires. The console was no longer warm.
The audience chamber was cut off. She had no way of talking to Jenna unless she could escape. But her every movement felt unsteady. The Melded had her mom’s body while her mind remained locked up in the Cordice simulation. And Barrett was about to hand Jenna over to the Primary Executive.
She sat forward with her elbows on her knees and hung her head.
Not going to cry…
She took a deep breath before considering her guards. “I need to talk to you.”
They ignored her.
“Will one of you come over here?”
Four Arms clicked when Green Eye headed her direction. There was an exchange she couldn’t follow, and it was fast. She had seen several Melded and none of them appeared to belong to the same species. They also weren’t taking the time to write out pictographs like Green Eye had done for her. Green Eye crouched before her.
The “Do you want water?” slideshow began again.
“No, I’m not hungry or thirsty. I just want to know how I can talk to you without
She Who Waits.” She pointed to his wrist device. “How can I get one of those?”
Green Eye responded with a bewildering stream of images and symbols. It was overwhelming and the flashing forced her to close her eyes.
“Stop, wait. Let’s start with letting me try to say something…anything. Can you understand me? Yes or no?”
He made a few starts of a new set of symbols but wiped them. Took a moment to tug at his chin hairs. Then an image of him as a rough drawing appeared and he croaked a two-syllable sound.
“O-vo.”
He repeated the noise a few times and then wiped the picture, replacing it with the stick figure. He thrust his chin at her.
“Is that supposed to be me?”
He waited.
She put a hand to her chest. Her heart was going like a jackrabbit. “I’m Carmen. Car-men. Human. From Earth.”
When it didn’t look like he followed, she made a circle in the air followed by a few imaginary dots. “Sun, planet, planet, Earth.” She pointed emphatically at the third dot. “That’s my home. I’m human. My name is Carmen.”
His mouth was hanging slightly open. Had she lucked out and gotten the one slow alien of the bunch? But she knew this process could take hours, weeks, or a lifetime. The thought that so many of them even used sound instead of psychic waves or smell or who knows what to communicate was amazing. But what sounds were the right ones?
She Who Waits was the key to this.
But Carmen was amazed when Green Eye’s bright eye twinkled. His wrist device played her voice.
“I’m Carmen Car-men human from Earth sun planet planet Earth that’s my home I’m human my name is Carmen.”
She let out a sigh. He had played back everything she had said and turned it into a blur of words. She touched herself. “Carmen.” She then placed a tentative hand on his chest and waited. He flinched. She felt him tremble. Was he as scared as she? Carmen doubted it. After all, he was the one carrying a gun.
“O-vo. O-vo. Ovo.”
“Ovo.” She touched her chest. “Carmen.”