by C. Gockel
“So would I,” Carl protested mentally.
It was time to do this. Adjusting her grip on Carl, she focused on the holo and said to the Marines, “We think of Mr. Tusker, and how much we need to talk to him.” She stepped closer to the holo, and the eight Marines did the same.
In her mind, Carl whispered, “You do the talking. I’ll do the napping. Winky, wink, wink.”
Volka’s brow furrowed in confusion at that, but there was no time to ask questions. She tried to conjure the urgency she’d felt when Sundancer had thrown her into the dream-memory of the alien vessel...and then her mind slipped automatically into thoughts of the blue beings who inhabited it. The blue child with feather hair and wide eyes. In her stomach she felt the flutter of grief that was hers, Carl’s, and Sundancer’s, and it made her eyes prickle.
She had to think of the Marines and Tusker or this wouldn’t work. Scrunching her eyes shut, she pictured them, but the aliens who’d perished were still in the back of her mind, like ghosts.
Light flickered behind her eyelids, and a man shouted, “What the hell is this?”
Volka’s eyes flew open. Tusker was standing a few meters away in the alien landscape, flanked by the Marines. This wasn’t the environment she’d expected to meet him in—she hoped the Marines weren’t discombobulated—but she kept her eyes focused on the CEO of Echelon. He was bigger and broader in person…if a dream could be “in person.” The glow from his cybernetic eyes and neural port was very bright.
Lifting her chin, Volka answered, “Mr. Tusker, since you won’t answer our hails, we had to bring our request to you directly.”
His nostrils flared. “This is ether sabotage, and I—” He took a step toward her and seven Marines raised pistols. Beside Volka, Young adopted a parade rest.
Tusker backed up. And then he sneered. “I have a kill switch.” Giving a feral grin, he tapped his neural port. His eyes and neural port went dark. A look of triumph flashed across his face but vanished an instant later. “How am I still here?”
Volka and the galaxy didn’t have time for this. “It’s telepathy, Mr. Tusker. It works via the quantum wave. Do not ask me the exact mechanism. I don’t know myself.” God, let him believe her.
“Theoretically possible,” he murmured.
His eyes flitted past the Marines to an alien child peeking from behind a vine that had enormous blue leaves and orange fruit. “What is the point of…?” He waved at the child.
“The telepath responsible for this dream is the starship Sundancer,” Volka replied. “Perhaps you’ve heard of her?”
Tusker nodded, and Volka continued, “This is a place that was destroyed by the Dark—the same entity attacking New Grande right now. The child you see is a member of a race that was annihilated by the Dark. The ship’s trying to convey the urgency of the situation to you.” Her fingers balled into fists. Believe, believe, believe, Tusker!
Tusker touched his temple. His eyes flashed again, and his neural port blinked to life. He scanned the scene and said, “What do you want from me?”
Young replied, “To get close enough to scan your facility for infiltration by the Dark.”
“I don’t want Fleet spying on my research,” Tusker shot back.
“We won’t need to come aboard,” Volka said. “Just within a few meters.”
“It would be for your own protection,” Young added. “And the protection of your research.”
Tusker inclined his head at Carl. “He’ll be able to read my mind and the minds of my scientists. There is a reason I don’t have The One aboard.”
The retort gave Volka hope. He believed in telepathy; many in the Republic didn’t. But how to ease his fears?
Young interjected, “Oh, he is reading your mind right now. It’s too late to hide.”
Carl punctuated that with a tiny, whistling snore and smacked his lips.
Narrowing his eyes at the werfle, Tusker touched his temple and turned in place. Seemingly noticing the Marines’ raised pistols, he eased his hands above his head.
“We are going to scan your facility,” Young said. “We’d prefer to do it with your approval.”
Slowly lowering his hands, Tusker gave him a tight smile. “But if I don’t give it, there will be a horrible misunderstanding between my security forces and yourselves.”
Young shrugged. “It happens.”
Tusker’s gaze shifted to Volka. “You’d never give me this chance if you didn’t need to avoid confrontation—” The lights in his eyes flickered, but she forced herself not to look away. “I’ll make it easier for you if you’ll have one of these telepathic meetings with me again.”
Despite herself, Volka blinked. That wasn’t the answer she’d expected.
Tusker gave her a crooked smile. “The commercial potential of this is phenomenal. A viable alternative to Q-comm, a way to communicate without relying on entangled particles. A way to communicate with anyone, anywhere, in other galaxies without even having been there…”
Volka wasn’t sure about any of that. Sundancer wasn’t galaxies away from Tusker. She’d been light-years from Alaric, but the ship knew him through Volka. Maybe Sundancer was entangled to Alaric through Volka? Her brow furrowed. She was thinking of emotional entanglements, and Sixty had told her that quantum entanglement was physics. It was math—numbers and logic and not at all related.
“This is your ship, isn’t it?” he asked, snapping Volka back to reality—or what passed for it in a starship’s daydream.
“She is her own ship,” Volka replied. “I am only her friend.”
Tusker tilted his head. “Will you return with your friend to my facility for a longer visit?”
Raising her chin, Volka said, “When the conflict with the Dark is over—”
A smirk started to pull at the corners of his mouth. He extended his hand to her.
“—if I’m not dead,” Volka finished.
The smirk vanished. His skin paled noticeably, and he took a step back. After a too-long pause, he whispered, “You’re serious.”
Volka’s skin heated. Another person in the Republic who didn’t believe in the Dark, even though it was practically at his doorstep. “Yes,” Volka replied, nostrils flaring.
He glanced at his outstretched hand and up at her. “I suppose Echelon will have to see that you live.”
Young made a sound deep in his throat, and it occurred to Volka that she was supposed to shake Tusker’s hand. She was a weere from Luddeccea with a sixth-grade education, and it didn’t seem right. But, swallowing her unease, she took the CEO’s hand. She remembered what Alaric had once told her about the etiquette of handshakes—lessons he’d learned from rich relatives. Be firm, but not too firm or they’ll know you grew up on a farm. Don’t hold on too long. You don’t want them to think you idolize them. And look them in the eyes. She realized too late that that lesson was for men’s handshakes, and as a lady, she was probably supposed to just brush her fingers against the top of his and look politely at her shoes.
Tusker smiled, and she could feel his sense of opportunity—it was a warm fire in her belly, a lightness in her feet, and it made her want to lick her lips. So that was what it felt like to be a mogul? It reminded her a bit of spotting a deer in the woods.
Young’s voice rumbled beside her. “Time is of the essence, sir.”
Releasing her hand, Tusker nodded at the lieutenant. “You’ll have it as soon as I’m back in my office.”
The lieutenant's attention turned to her. Volka scrunched her eyes shut and imagined Sundancer’s bridge. Behind her eyelids, the world became darker, and she heard Jerome say, “We have permission to approach!”
Volka opened her eyes and found Sixty very close. In her arms, Carl stretched and yawned. “We make a great team, Hatchling. With you and me together, who could resist us? Although Tusker’s greed didn’t hurt.”
Imagining Sundancer approaching Echelon’s research station, Volka was too busy to pay attention to his words…and yet she f
elt the hair on the back of her neck rise.
An hour after Carl and Volka had declared Echelon free of the Dark’s infestation, 6T9 stood at Sundancer’s bow. They were a few thousand kilometers away from their new target—Xing Corp, the research facility run by Bill Ma. Xing Corp was reacting in the exact same way Echelon had. Outside Sundancer were four fighters that belonged to Xing’s private security. Inside Sundancer, Volka, Young, and seven other Marines were gazing with empty eyes at a hologram of Ma. Cradled in Volka’s arms, Carl was softly snoring, but presumably he was focused on the same individual. Physically, Ma was Tusker’s exact opposite. Ma, famously etherless due to a rare autoimmune condition, wore thick ether glasses. In the holo, they were slipping down his nose. He was startlingly thin, hadn’t bothered to make himself appear fashionably thirty-something, and his salt-and-pepper hair was decidedly rumpled—considering the holo was a publicity shot, that said a lot about the man. Volka and the others were meeting with Ma in another telepathic conference call—hopefully.
6T9 had cut down his power expenditures to the minimum level required to maintain awareness so he could “wake” in milliseconds. He wasn’t running low on power, but time was less noticeable. He didn’t think of the Dark’s disturbing message to him, and he wasn’t as bothered by Volka’s “absence” in a realm where he couldn’t join her.
“We’ve got permission!” Jerome shouted. “That was even faster than last time.”
Volka’s head jerked back, and she and the Marines blinked rapidly and swayed on their feet. Carl’s lips smacked, and he yawned, venom gleaming on his fangs. He opened his eyes, but then promptly shut them.
“Good job, Volka,” Lieutenant Young said, smacking her on the shoulder.
6T9’s vision flashed white, and he came fully online. The lieutenant was on Volka’s left side, and 6T9 was on her right. Pulling back, 6T9 turned, and his hand lifted as though by strings…
Volka replied tiredly, “It was your telling him about our meeting with Tusker that got his attention.”
6T9 caught himself, dropping his arm just before…he blinked, not sure what he’d been about to do. Rip Young’s arm from his socket?
Shaking his head and pulling away from Volka, Young chuckled. “Yeah, those guys are always trying to outdo each other.” Young looked much younger than his six decades of life, but his features weren’t augment perfect. He was very tall and broad shouldered and seemed to get along well with other humans. He was healthy, and 6T9 should be thinking about what he might look like naked, but he wasn’t. He was...circuits flashed brightly within him...contemplating the feasibility of ripping Young’s arm out. That was an overreaction. Obviously. His Q-comm flashed again. And he hadn’t attempted to do it. His eyes narrowed, and he found himself smiling. He was gaining control.
“What is it, Sixty?”
The question came from Volka.
It wasn’t an opportune time to mention the withheld urge for dismemberment, especially since the target of the urge was close by. “Nothing,” he lied, leaning close. “Just...laughing along.” Volka had taken off her helmet, and her ears were forward. Giving in, he pulled off a glove and put his hand behind her ear. Her eyes slipped closed, and all his sensor receptors lit. Was she sensitive there? If she had ether, he’d ask her privately. As it was, he wanted this mission to be over soon. They just needed to get done surveying these enterprises and get home.
Carl, still seemingly asleep, must have requested Sundancer to advance, because Xing Corp’s ring-shaped station was getting closer in the holo.
Opening her eyes, Volka flushed and licked her lips. “I had better help Carl scan the station.”
Her ears were definitely sensitive. Dropping his hand, 6T9 nodded and slipped back into power save mode as Volka padded softly to Sundancer’s bow, Carl snoring softly in her arms.
An hour later, Carl woke up abruptly, and his necklace crackled. “Volka, did you feel anything?”
“Nothing,” Volka replied. Her back was to 6T9, and she looked very small.
“Good, good,” said Carl. Volka’s body shielded him from 6T9’s view, but the creature’s tone made 6T9’s Q-comm conjure an image of the werfle nodding sagely and narrowing his eyes. “You’re getting stronger and more confident. There was nothing that I sensed either, and Sundancer is calm.”
One of the scientists asked, “That means there is not Dark here?”
Volka turned around, and Carl announced from her arms, “That is correct. This station has not been infiltrated, and…” He coughed. “I took the liberty to check out their defenses. They are much better armed than they appear. Any incursion by pirates or infected members of System 5’s forces will not go well here.”
Young nodded decisively. “Time to pack up the armor and move on to the last target. Reich Enterprises, at S5O12.”
6T9 didn’t have a heart, but his circuits lit. One step closer to home…
To Dr. Shore, Young said, “Detach the ship’s armor.” And then he focused on the holo, and it showed their current location and S5O12, a planet at the edge of the solar system. Earth-sized, S5O12 orbited at a thirty-five-degree angle from the ecliptic plane. Scientists theorized that it was a rogue planet that had gotten tugged into S5’s orbit. It took sixteen hours at lightspeed to reach S5O12 from the inner planets, but it had ample water in the form of ice and near perfect gravity, though its core had cooled and its atmosphere been blown away by cosmic rays long ago.
Young released a breath. “We’re ahead of schedule. I hope the CEO of Reich is as easy to convince.”
Young’s eyes glazed over as he connected to the ethernet.
Everyone was busy with various tasks. They were going to have to clear the bridge soon in preparation to stow the armor again. Volka and 6T9 walked back toward the compartments before they were ordered to. Carl began shimmying out of his suit. “I have got to stretch.”
An iris opening appeared in the wall, and, as they stepped into the compartment, Volka whispered, “I hope Reich is as easy to convince, too.”
Carl, orange body half in, half out of his suit, waved a paw. “Of course he will be! Between you and me, Volka, we could convince anyone.” He twisted his body 180 degrees. “Well, not any robot or machine someone. But we could nudge an elephant.” Winking, he resumed pulling his body from the suit.
“What does that mean?” Volka asked.
“Well,” said Carl, succeeding in freeing himself and giving his tail a shake. “An elephant is—”
“I know what an elephant is,” Volka replied.
“Yes, well, they are stubborn creatures. Very resistant to mental nudging.”
6T9’s Q-comm fired. “Carl, did you and Volka use mind control on Ma and Tusker?”
“No!” Volka said, dropping Carl and his suit and smacking a hand over her mouth. Carl jumped, rolled, and blinked up at her when he came to a stop. “Yes.”
“I didn’t mean to,” she exclaimed, turning to 6T9, her breathing in rapid little gasps.
“I believe you,” 6T9 said, scowling.
Hand still on her mouth, Volka looked away. “Oh, no, no. That is wrong…”
Rising to his hindmost paw pairs, Carl flattened his ears. “Wrong? Over fifteen billion lives are at stake in this System alone. Helping make up Ma and Tusker’s minds was the right thing to do.”
“Mind control isn’t the answer!” Volka said. “It...It...is playing God.”
Carl gazed down at a claw. “I wasn’t playing.”
Volka spun around and went to the corner. 6T9 scowled down at Carl. The werfle raised his paws. “It was a joke!”
6T9 rolled his eyes and went to Volka. Her body was shaking, and for a minute, he thought she might throw up. Putting a hand on her shoulder, he turned her around. “It was an accident.” He marveled at how well he understood that now. Seeing James beneath him, with his skin hanging from his face, hadn’t just given him the ability to kill—it had given him the power to empathize. His Q-comm hummed with the strange dichot
omy.
Her face canted upward, but her eyes were still downcast as though she were afraid to look at him. More gently, 6T9 said, “In the moment, you didn’t know that you were doing it. That you regret it shows you have a conscience, but you need to get past this.” His words were eerily close to Captain Darmadi’s when the captain had comforted Volka aboard Time Gate 1—after 6T9 had all but called her a child killer.
Her eyes finally focused on his. “You have a higher set of standards for yourself.”
He thought of how he’d abandoned her to interrogation and solitude when she’d needed him most—all for those high standards. “My standards for you have been unfairly high.” Her lips parted, and he touched a finger to them. “Don’t say angels follow a different set of rules.” He smiled wryly. His Q-comm hummed. “I’d rather serve in hell and see you live than remain ‘angelic’ and have you die.”
Her ears came forward, as though she couldn’t believe what she’d heard.
He couldn’t believe what he said. It wasn’t like him to invoke religion in anything but jest. Where had the words come from? As soon as the query flashed through his circuitry, he knew. The galaxy was at war. This little trip to the outer reaches of System 5 was the easy part. They had been in no real danger. This mission was...a respite. He reached up and cupped one of her ears, wanting to kiss her, but wanting to look at her more. To commit every second left to his eidetic memory. Volka leaned into his touch and closed her eyes.
Carl cleared his throat. “Um...the team’s coming in.”
Volka turned to the door, ears forward, expression resolute. 6T9 remembered her jumping to offer Sundancer’s services as a ferry for troops to New Grande. They wouldn’t go home after this surveillance mission.
His Q-comm flashed white. Should he want to go home? He’d just said he’d serve in hell to see her live. System 5 was one of the most populous in the galaxy. It was a transport hub with the most extensive time gate network. As long as any trace of the Dark existed here, it would be a seeping wound, ready to spread infection to the universe. Not just to Volka, but to all the humans he cared about—Noa, Celeste and Bart, Walker, the Marines aboard this ship, and everyone from his first perilous journey from Luddeccea over a hundred years ago. Static flashed beneath his skin.