Ouroboros 2: Before (20 page)

But just as his palm opened as he went to brush her fringe from her eyes, he stopped himself.

What the heck was he doing?

Stiffening, he took a step back, realizing she could now stand on her own. ‘Alright,’ he said with firm resolve, ‘we have to do this.’ Then he turned sharply to stare at Varo. And he really did stare. In that moment Carson made his gaze as sharp as a knife as he carved Varo up from head to toe, searching for any sign the man would go back on his word. ‘You will keep her safe,’ Carson warned.

‘
She has ordained the destruction of our world; I know what that means. Of course we will do what we can to protect her. Her visions are sacred. They are the ammo we need to fight this war, yet they are the warning we require not to lose. We will not let the government destroy our home,’ Varo said determinedly, his black eyes flashing with passion.

Carson just looked at the guy.

It took a lot of effort to turn away.

Because it took a lot of effort to give in to this situation.

He wanted everything, but he couldn't have it.

He couldn't go to the Central Security Facility with Nida, yet he couldn't leave her side.

. . . . 

So this would have to do. He would have to trust she really could look after herself. And if Cadet Nida Harper failed—which was an unfortunate likelihood given her history—he knew the entity would not. It was frightfully capable of looking after itself.

He just hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Every action the entity made came with a cost.

Sighing heavily and realizing how impossible things were becoming, Carson closed his eyes.

He only opened them again when Cara touched him once more.

Her armor on his, she weighed her hand onto his wrist. ‘You don't have time for regret. Just action. We need to plan. Then we will act. And when you're acting, this situation will no longer cripple you,’ she advised.

It was good advice.

It was what he needed to hear, in fact.

He blinked his eyes open to look at her, then finally nodded his head. ‘Alright,’ he croaked. ‘Let's do this.’

Cadet Nida Harper

She couldn't keep up.

Things were changing so fast.

She had no anchor, nothing secure to hold onto.

She felt as though she were floating in a sea of confusion.

. . . .

Or maybe she did have an anchor.

She had Carson Blake.

And he was like a mountain.

His determination had all the strength of a raging bull.

But even with him at her side, she felt lost.

In every silent moment, she was assailed with one harrowing fact.

She didn't know enough to understand what was happening to her.

Only snippets of information here and there. Only stories. Only clues.

From the mention of the Goddess to what the entity had revealed.

It wasn't enough though.

It didn't stop Nida from feeling as though she were stumbling blindly into a trap.

Neither did it peel back the cold veil that had fallen over her eyes.

It felt as though something was stopping her from thinking, from concentrating long enough to come up with some elusive conclusion she desperately needed to realize.

Feeling suitably morose, she waited out the rest of the day until night fell.

She remained alone. None of the other members of the resistance seemed brave enough to talk to her, and Varo had clearly been warned off by Carson.

So, sitting on top of what looked like an old furnace, she let her legs dangle over the side of the rusted metal.

She tried to think.

It wouldn't work.

She wanted to sleep, but she was too scared to drift off.

She couldn't put up with another one of those visions.

She couldn’t watch the bodies of United Galactic Coalition members floating dead and lifeless in space.

Yet all too soon the hours slipped away, and she turned to see Carson walk slowly towards her.

It was the first time they had been alone since Harya had led them to the city.

She wanted to jump down from her seat and throw herself at him.

But she contained herself barely.

‘
Carson,’ she said in a croaked, barely audible voice.

Before she could clamber down to greet him, he easily jumped up the side of the furnace and sat by her side.

Right by her side.

His leg gently pressed into hers.

Rather than face her, he spent several moments simply staring down at his armored hands.

He wasn't wearing his helmet, so she could see his exact expression.

It was equal parts fear and sadness.

He looked lost, confused, and helpless.

After a bitter breath, he finally faced her. Though he tried to look into her eyes and search her gaze, he couldn't, and quickly turned back to his hands. ‘I'm sorry,’ he whispered.

She wasn't dumb enough to ask why.

Despite his better judgment, Carson was leaving her to attend to the mission.

And despite her better judgment, she was going to let him.

But she didn't want him to go. She couldn't bear the idea of being separated. He was her only true companion in this time and place, her only true reminder of where she'd come from.

Yet the entity had acted. It had convinced him to leave.

That hadn't been her voice telling him to go. Those hadn't been his words.

 . . . 

The entity knew best though, right? It had got them this far, it had protected them through innumerable dangers; it knew what to do.

She just had to trust it.

‘
Nida, I'm sorry,’ he repeated bitterly.

She nodded.

Then silence descended between them.

The room they were in always creaked, the metal walls and ceiling moving slowly under whatever pressure the building above drove upon them.

And as she sat on top of that rusted furnace, her legs beat against the metal as she swung them back and forth.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

She listened to the sound of her shoes striking the rusted iron as she waited for him to speak.

‘
I’ll . . . we'll get through this,’ he promised suddenly.

‘
Yes,’ she answered.

Silence drew around them again. It felt like some kind of veil furling between them, cutting them off from each other.

As she felt that strange sensation and came up with that strange conclusion, she did something spontaneous.

It wasn't the entity forcing the move; it was her. Nida. The Nida that remained deep inside and could not be touched nor changed by this situation.

She reached out a hand and grabbed his. She pressed her fingers and thumbs against his armored gauntlet.

Her heart sung as he reacted to her grip, furling his fingers through hers.

Again they descended into silence, except this time it had a wholly different quality. It no longer felt as though they were alone; nothing separated them anymore.

‘
Were they modern ships?’ Carson suddenly asked.

She knew exactly what he was talking about, even though his question sounded odd.

‘
I think they were from our time, yes,’ she confirmed quietly.

Just as she tightened her grip on his hand, he tightened his grip too.

Now they held onto each other as though letting go would lead to death.

‘
What did you . . . see?’ he whispered.

‘
United Galactic Coalition ships—most of the entire fleet—destroyed in orbit around Remus 12,’ she croaked, her voice so quiet Carson would likely have to use his armor to pick it up and resolve the audio quality. ‘I saw . . . people in space. United Galactic Coalition soldiers. Dead. I saw their uniforms. They were like ours. I saw the broken ships too. They reminded me of our current class of heavy cruisers.’

Carson breathed through his surprise. It was a harrowing sound.

‘
Carson,’ she began. ‘It's . . . not the future,’ she tried. ‘We don't know that.’

He went to smile, but the move turned into a strange, sorrowful frown. ‘The entity had the power to send us to the past. It had the power to decimate the Barbarians attacking the Farsight. It had the power to initiate the Endgame Maneuver. Nida, maybe it can tell the future too.’

That hadn't been what she'd wanted to hear.

She'd wanted, no, needed Carson to reassure her everything would be fine. She had to hear someone tell her the entity's visions were meaningless, were lies, were nothing more than harrowing nightmares.

She didn't want to cry, not now, but she couldn't stop the tears from trickling down her cheeks.

‘
We have to return the entity,’ she stammered. ‘We have to find the dimensional bridge. That will stop everything,’ she choked.

Carson didn't respond.

Maybe because he realized her conclusion was illogical.

They had no idea whether returning the entity to its home would change the course of history. It was a complete guess to conclude that once the dimensional bridge opened and they sent it across, the United Galactic Coalition would be fine.

‘
Do you . . . have any idea what destroyed the fleet?’ he asked quietly.

She shook her head.

Then she broke down.

Her legs stilled; she no longer kicked them against the base of the furnace.

Instead, she pulled her hand from Carson's and crumpled it over her mouth.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she let her tears wash fast and thick down her cheeks.

Carson shifted closer. Furling an arm around the back of her shoulders, he pulled her in until her head rested against his chest.

He didn't say anything.

He simply held her as she continued to sob.

. . . .

How could this be happening?

Barely a month ago she had been nothing more than an ordinary recruit. She hadn’t been special in any way, other than her complete lack of skills.

Now she was in the past, facing a future indistinguishable from hell, with the weight of reality crushing her from every direction.

Carson still didn't say anything, and as she finally twisted to stare up at his face, she watched as a few silent tears streaked down his cheeks too.

He didn't sob though.

His shoulders didn't rock back and forth like hers did.

He simply sat there, stalwart and silent in his grief.

‘
I . . . have to go soon,’ he said after a long pause.

He wouldn't look at her; he locked his gaze on the far wall, and didn't shift it.

‘
Be careful,’ she tried.

As soon as she said that, she realized how hollow her request was.

Be careful?

She didn't want him to be careful; she wanted him to stay here. She wanted this situation to sort itself out without either of them having to sacrifice everything.

‘
Nida, it'll be fine,’ he swallowed. ‘But you've got to . . .’ he trailed off.

Got to what? Be strong? Be capable? Pull her socks up and be an effective recruit?

‘
Got to promise me that if it doesn't work, you do what you have to,’ he finished.

. . . .

That hadn't been what she'd expected.

Because that was horrible. That suggested Carson thought his mission could fail.

She wanted to beg him not to go. She wanted to assure him they could find another way, but she couldn't voice her plea.

Her throat closed off.

She couldn't push the words out.

The entity, it seemed, would not let her.

So instead she simply sat there.

All too soon he was called away.

As he shifted away from her, she felt a tangible sense of loss.

It ached. It felt as if it stabbed through her like thousands of frost-tipped needles, stealing away her warmth and resolve.

She didn't break down again though. Instead, she stared at him in silence.

‘
We can do this,’ he tried as he nodded at her.

She nodded too.

Even though what she desperately wanted to do was shake her head.

No, she wanted to scream. They had to remain together.

But once again, she could not vocalize that burning desire.

Instead, she watched as Carson did something strange.

He reached up and placed a hand behind her head.

Tingles escaped through her belly.

Hot and fast, they were the only thing that could distract her from her grief and fear.

He looked confused for a moment, as if he’d acted on instinct only to realize what he was doing.

With a cough, he shifted back and nodded. ‘You'll be fine. And I’ll be fine,’ he added.

She nodded.

‘
Carson,’ Cara called from further into the room, ‘we have to leave.’

Carson and Nida were out of sight, hidden by the bulk of the machinery around them.

Suddenly Carson pressed close to Nida's side.

As her skin raced with expectation, her stomach kicking and tumbling with the promise of his quick movement, she waited for him to act.

. . . .

Looking into her eyes, his gaze focused but searching, he handed her something.

His gun.

It was still in his leather holster. ‘You need to take this, Cadet,’ he added.

 . . . 

His gun?

From the edge to his movements and the look in his eyes, she hadn't expected he would hand her his plasma handgun carefully concealed by his holster.

Swallowing her disappointment before she could realize it was, in fact, disappointment, she nodded.

She held the holster awkwardly, and this caused Carson to raise an eyebrow questioningly. ‘You do know how to use one of those, right?’

She nodded. ‘Yes. Of course. It was one of the first lessons at the Academy.’

He didn't look convinced. Yet he still took a step backwards, then another. In fact he walked a full five meters before he finally turned. Pausing, he looked at her over his shoulder. ‘Keep safe. And make me proud, Cadet,’ he added, almost immediately wincing at his words as if he found them embarrassing. ‘Just . . . keep safe,’ he repeated one more time before walking off and leaving her on her own.

She stood there in silence listening to his retreating footfall as it echoed over the metal floor.

Then she acted.

She tightened her grip on the holster.