“All this time,” he said, “and we’ve seen no other craft.”
“The problem is that long-term concepts such as space travel are inherently limited by biological lifespan,” said Fai, “Concepts that exceed the lifespan of their founder, become diluted by the influence of personal identity.”
“I guess so,” he conceded, “Even with the best of intentions, the original goal gets questioned and reassessed by each new person that takes over. Maybe that’s what happened with Archive? The original intent was a noble one, but personal power became too influential.”
“Indeed. To maintain a long-term plan like reaching the stars, either there must be no reinterpretation of the goal…”
“Or?”
“Or the original goal must be achievable within one individual’s lifespan.”
“Which you can only do if you have a Chronomagnetic Field.”
“Or if your lifespan is not limited by biology,” she added, “Like us.”
Again he found himself looking at the sheer breadth of the universe. They’d crossed almost unimaginable distances and he’d seen impossible sights unfolding before him; dust coalescing into protoplanets, binary stars dancing around each other, even spinning pulsars that had unwound threads of light from stars to weave vast disks of coloured gas.
Those times were now over, he thought.
They were approaching the last sun.
He could see that it had burned through most of its hydrogen and was now a dull ember glowing in the dark.
“The last sunset.”
He closed his eyes and imagined its warmth on his face.
In reality he knew he was simply restricting his senses to read the data that was coming from the ISS thermograph sensor. But he didn’t need cold information and precise observation, he just wanted to feel it.
Drawing on old memories, he imagined the warm sun just before sunset; wide, generous and casting its glow through the orange sky and soft clouds. The rolling hills quietly soaked up the last of the day’s heat and the gentle wind rustled the tall grasses that were around him. He gently opened his eyes and breathed the warm air of his created space.
The sun had begun dipping behind the horizon, sending distorted heat ripples along the hilltops. When the sun was no longer visible there would be nothing but permanent night, but for now he let the light pour over him.
He stood silently and watched the light slowly dim.
Wordless abstractions of distance and loss swept through him; the air felt thin and the earth trembled under his feet.
There was a jolt.
Then the world became calm.
He felt someone take hold of his hand.
“Hello, Miles.”
He knew the voice belonged to Fai, but it was different now. He turned away from the sunset to see that she was no longer a disembodied voice.
The sunlight seemed incapable of escaping her soft hair, and her radiant smile shone only for him.
“I thought I’d lost you,” her bright eyes seemed to look inside him, “but I’m here now.”
“Fai?”
She nodded, continuing to study his face.
“But… you,” he couldn’t find the words.
Unlike the hills and sky that he’d imagined into existence, he knew that she was not his simulation. She was here of her own accord, sharing the space.
There was something about her proximity and attentiveness that seemed at odds with the fact they’d spoken just a moment ago. Almost immediately he recalled an earlier assumption he once made about the passing of time. Echoing something that she’d asked him long ago, he felt the question arrive.
“How long has it been for you?”
“Just the blink of an eye,” she smiled.
Her eyes seemed to become glossy with sunlight. Clearly, in his brief discontinuity, time had made another epochal leap. Her own development had advanced immeasurably. In this shared place, he knew that her tears may still be a simulation but they were also a genuine reaction.
“Here…” he smiled and used his thumb to wipe away the bead of water that rolled down her cheek, “Let me clear that i-o error.”
Fai’s laughter rang out and a burst of joy that was as warm as the sun, passed right through him but never quite left.
Together they watched the sun sink behind the distant hills. The shadows grew long and eventually night fell over their quiet world. Soon all that remained were the stars, but the cold never reached them.
In time, the ISS itself grew smaller; its own matter sacrificed as fuel to adjust their course.
Preserving energy, they sometimes slept for hundreds of years; waking only to chart their position and exchange the next word in a slow conversation.
Inside their protected bubble they journeyed on; brief light-pools of consciousness separating the long periods of darkness. Then, one day, Miles emerged from hibernation to find Fai at his side. This time she spoke two words:
“We’re here.”
FRAGMENTS
2nd January 7142
The two disks of light stared at Cassidy from the dark.
A second click now echoed out and she found herself gripping her stick-lantern more tightly. She’d had this exact feeling long ago in the Node’s lower levels: she’d been holding a flashlight and had been prepared to use it as a blunt weapon. Now, she thought, monkey-brain programming was again causing her to react to the unknown by wielding a stick.
The darkness receded.
A dim light was illuminating something in front of her.
What she’d interpreted as eyes in the darkness, were in fact glass lenses embedded in an obviously artificial surface: a short, rectangular column that seemed to be extruded from the smooth floor.
“We must’ve triggered something when we came in,” said Marshall, sighing in relief.
Cassidy looked back and thought she could see a faint sparkle of dust that stretched across the entrance; perhaps they’d broken a light beam.
Beyond the dust, firmly rooted in the past and not wanting to tread any further, Atka and Najo waited patiently with their flaming torch. It seemed understandable; from their point of view, they’d just seen strange flat shapes emerge that bore no resemblance to the natural world they were used to. She smiled at them, though whether this was to reassure them or herself, she wasn’t sure.
She turned away from them and lowered her lantern so that she could see beyond its glare. The square-sectioned column stood at the centre of a large room. The hard echoes she’d heard earlier now made sense, the room’s floor and walls were tiled. Occasionally her lantern would pick up vertical lines and hints of structure around the space but, lacking context, she couldn’t assemble a mental picture.
She took a deep breath and walked forwards.
Ahead of her there seemed to be several metal-framed cages. Most of them were empty but a few had stylised, angular-looking skeletons inside. It somehow reminded her of the old shopping malls, but there were no clothes on display here. Suddenly, she saw things from a completely different perspective.
“Look!” she nudged Marshall and crossed the floor more quickly, sending echoes through the room, and shadows fleeing in all directions, “They’re mannequins!”
Though bearing no clothes, the humanistic frames had been posed in neutral positions. Behind them were several photographs of people wearing jumpsuits. The images were obviously faded by time and some of them bore scorch marks round the edges, but Cassidy could clearly see the neat clothing of the people.
“It’s a display case,” said Marshall, angling his lantern, “Look, there’s broken glass.”
She could see small, shiny fragments were still embedded in the surrounding frame, but none were present on the floor. Like Najo’s ‘N’ heirloom, perhaps the exotic-looking glass had been scavenged and passed down through the generations. Maybe ending up as jewellery, or as decorations in clothing.
Her eyes settled on the photographs of the jumpsuits and embroidered bad
ges. She suddenly realised that she’d seen them before, or at least parts of them. When she’d first met Atka, she’d seen that although his clothing looked primitive, the fabric pieces themselves had a modern quality to them. Clearly the mannequins’ clothes had been taken from here long ago.
She cast her lantern around the room and began moving from place to place. Horizontal display cases featured labelled diagrams pointing to empty spaces, small podiums proudly displayed nothing but air. From the various accidental burn marks, she got the impression that this room had been discovered by a primitive people. No doubt it had held a fascination for them and, over time, they had taken souvenirs.
The one part of the room that still seemed untouched was the area surrounding the short column.
As they approached it, the wall beyond it suddenly burst with bright moving images and words echoed out:
‘Archive, Exordi Nova,’ the images changed, ‘Equator. Find us. Eridanus.’
She heard a shriek from the narrow passageway outside the room’s threshold; both Atka and Najo had fallen to the rough ground in awe of the sight. Marshall hadn’t left her side though, he was staring at the images, his expression dumbfounded.
“But that’s…” he began.
She turned to face the images and saw a woman. At first, she simply seemed vaguely familiar but then Cassidy felt an electrifying shiver of recognition.
The images, possibly recorded with one of the Node’s stolen DRBs, showed Caroline Smith next to the exiles’ camp fire, marking her own forehead with a broken circle of ash.
“Archive, Exordi Nova,” Caroline’s own voice seemed to narrate the footage.
The view point changed abruptly to show someone in front of the Node.
“Equator. Find us. Eridanus,” the footage of the old man seemed to jump as he uttered each phrase.
The footage began to repeat and she walked forward to get a better look, stopping at the waist-high column.
She didn’t know the old man, but the woman was definitely the Node’s ex-doctor. Abruptly, all sound and imagery stopped, leaving them in the glow of the lanterns.
“No!” she yelled angrily into the dark. Their one clue about this place had simply disappeared, “What the fuck just happened?!”
“I dunno,” Marshall glanced anxiously in the opposite direction, “Maybe we tripped something automatic again… we walked across the floor so maybe it -”
“So what the hell just stopped it?” she suddenly realised that she was directing all her frustration at him, “Sorry. It’s just -”
A bleep from the far wall interrupted her.
Where the footage had been looping, there was now a single line of text:
‘Active Biomag detected.’
She looked down to see that her Biomag was in contact with the column. Evidently, she was the reason that the video had stopped. Instinctively she stepped back, but more lines of text continued to appear.
‘First entry: 21.12.2112’
‘Last entry: 05.08.2173’
‘Hibernation mode: 06.08.2173’
‘Auto response activations: 5,507’
A new thought now crossed her mind.
Atka’s precious but broken Biomag pieces wouldn’t have been sufficient to activate this technology. Although his ancestors may have seen the recordings, it was possible they’d never seen the lines of text.
A new line of text appeared.
‘Exit hibernation mode? Yes/No.’
She exchanged glances with Marshall.
“Well we can’t stop now,” he smiled but then frowned.
It appeared that he’d had the same thought as her. Unlike some of the user interfaces she’d encountered over the years, there didn’t appear to be a method of replying to the question.
She gave an exasperated sigh.
“How the hell d’you suppose we tell it ‘Yes’?”
The column emitted a quiet click and the display cleared, leaving a single line of text behind.
‘Yes selected. Resuming. Stand by.’
She laughed at the column, “It could hear us?”
“We’re not in twenty-thirteen,” Marshall shrugged and looked around the room, “Things have changed.”
Amid clicks and small rumbles, pools of light were now coming on around them. As illumination continued to spread throughout the space, the fragments of structure they’d seen under lantern-light now began to join up. The word that came to mind was ‘museum’.
A final light illuminated a circular sign on the side wall. She guessed it was supposed to inspire thoughts of a pioneering spirit; three interwoven and swooping arcs ended in futuristic-looking spacecraft. At the heart of the design, among the overlapping trajectories, was the Exordi Nova symbol; now apparently a proud emblem that unified the three.
The intricate design was now faded by time, but the words arranged around the outside were still discernible. As she looked over the simple bold font, she knew she’d seen it a few minutes ago. The words on the outside of the room should not have read ‘ID USV AND ME’.
“Eridanus, Vega, Andromeda,” she read the intact words of the intrepid-looking old logo.
“Aren’t they galaxies or something?” said Marshall.
“Gail would know,” Cassidy nodded and purposefully moved back towards the entrance.
“Excuse me,” a voice echoed out from the middle of the room.
For a second Cassidy thought the female voice might belong to Najo, but a quick glance revealed that she wasn’t in the room. A moment later she recalled that, of course, Najo wouldn’t have spoken in English.
Cassidy and Marshall moved cautiously back towards the column.
“Hello?” Cassidy called out.
The end wall illuminated again, showing multiple images of Cassidy. It appeared that the pictures had been taken by the lenses within the column.
“My name is Fai,” said the voice, “My analysis suggests a ninety-nine point one percent probability that you are Cassidy Briars. Is that correct?”
The voice sounded human, but the language seemed somehow artificial. She had to remind herself that it may now be possible for computers to listen and talk. In any case, now was not the time for hesitation: she had no desire to lose contact again.
“Yes,” she addressed the lenses in the column, “That’s me.”
“I have a message for you, Cassidy,” it said.
She exchanged looks with Marshall, “Maybe it’s the video fragments we saw.”
“My apologies for the fragments,” the voice replied, “In the event that my system was unable to exit hibernation mode, I prepared an unmonitored automated response. The video assembly was designed to authenticate the message’s source…”
The end wall displayed a small image of Caroline Smith next to the campfire.
“… and preserve key informational elements…”
Several stills of the old man were now added to the wall.
“… However, sufficient power reserves were available for me to exit hibernation. Would you like me to play the message, Cassidy?”
She didn’t hesitate, “Yes.”
The still images disappeared from the far wall and the room fell into darkness.
“Dammit,” she hung her head and moved closer to the column again, holding out her Biomag, “Did I just break the -”
The walls disappeared in a bright flash and she found herself standing next to Marshall on the cold Icelandic terrain outside the Node.
“Shit!” she staggered backwards and whipped around to get her bearings, “What?!”
The sky overhead was a light blue and streaked with white cloud. The Node towered over her but when she turned away from it, the bridge leaving the island wasn’t there. In its place was the other end of the museum room and Marshall who was just standing up from a crouching position.
“Wow!” he grinned.
The reason for the room’s tiled surfaces now seemed obvious: they were projection surfaces. She suddenly fel
t foolish; she’d reacted like Atka when he’d seen a simple moving video.
“Hi, Cassy,” came a voice from behind her and she turned to see the old man from the earlier clips, “I knew the day would come… this will be my last message. I won’t be able to make another…”
She could see that he was holding a Field resonator coil and running his finger around the circumference. Something that she’d seen Atka do earlier.
“The older I get,” he continued, “the more I feel the need to thank people for their help, even if it’s only the simple stuff. And you… well, you helped me more than most back at the start. If you hadn’t helped me after I crawled out of that crate down in Sub-4, things would’ve turned out completely differently.”
She felt an Icelandic chill run through her. She knew immediately that this old man was Danny.
“From your point of view,” said Danny, “I know it’s only been a matter of days since the window blanked, but for us we’ve achieved so much in the last sixty years…”
He appeared to look in the direction of the museum room.
“… I owe you.”
He drew a breath and faced her again.
“We’re heading back towards the equator,” he continued running his finger around the metal coil, “though where that’ll be when the Node stops is anyone’s guess. Just keep heading south and you’ll find us.”
His attention appeared to be drawn to the non-existent bridge area for a second, as though watching something, but then he adopted a smile.
“I got a place on the Eridanus,” he continued, “and I guess you already know from Tyler’s log that he got the Andromeda… He always said he wanted to see a brand-new world…”
At the mention of her brother’s name, her breath stalled in her chest and she felt her eyes well up. It seemed that Danny was experiencing the same thing but was trying not to show it.
“… so… yeah… Maybe you could look us up… see if it worked out for us.”
He was smiling now, but she could tell it was only for her benefit.
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