Remember the Starfighter (49 page)

Back in the mainframe room, the cracked, but still functioning display showed the documents to Julian. With a swipe of the hand, he passed through them, each one a public report pulled from Earth’s own cyber network.

The data was new, and downloaded hours ago during that brief moment Arendi had punctured the surrounding interference. Julian glanced at the headlines, but he was far more interested in a seemingly inconsequential detail. It was the date attached to each article, the year ancient. 

“Then it’s confirmed,” he said. “The distortion. It’s really there.”

August 7, 2801. This was the date that persisted through most of the documents. It was also supposedly the correct time on the planet. Only that it wasn’t. 

Outside the Earth, over 2,000 years had elapsed, the galactic eras rolling from one to the next. But somehow, the date had barely changed from within the Endervar shield, the time flow locked into a near stasis.

The pace was almost glacially slow. So slow that, to the people on Earth, only about 19 months had passed since the enemy’s initial invasion.

“It must have something to do with the shield,” Julian said. “Or maybe the gateway itself.”

CORRECT. YOUR PRESENCE ALSO CONFIRMS THAT THE DISTORTION EXISTS.
 

The A.I.’s voice spoke from above, as Julian checked the time on his own comm-band. The device showed a very different, and almost future date, one that corresponded with the Alliance, and the rest of the free galaxy.

He glanced back at the headlines displayed, and saw that the unified government of Earth had also become aware of the distortion. The so-called “temporal effect,” albeit still a mystery, had fractured the time flow across the different continents.

THE LATEST DATA INDICATES THAT THE DISTORTION IS DIRECTLY TIED TO THE GATEWAY.

“It’s the proximity,” explained Arendi. “The further away from the gateway, the slower time moves.”

“But as for us?” Julian asked. “You mentioned something. That it has the opposite effect.”

“Yes. Here in the void, at our present position, time is accelerated,” she said. “About five times the normal rate of the universe.”

Julian then swiped his hand in front of the cracked display screen. The next document appeared, the article published with a detailed photo of the enemy gateway, but taken from below on the surface. It showed an alien tempest in the sky, the breach in reality fueling the surrounding pool of energy.    

“The Endervars,” Julian muttered. “They can even warp time.”

He walked away from the display screen, flexing his right hand. It opened and closed, before he stopped it, and shook his fingers free. 

“The temporal effect.” Julian said. “What does any of it mean?”

Hearing the question, Arendi looked up at the fusion chamber in the center of the room.

“The distortion may not be deliberate,” she said. “It may simply be a consequence of their origin.”

The mystery of the Endervars, it was an enigma Arendi’s creator, Servetus, had tried to penetrate and answer. Throughout all the millennia, the machine had been carefully scanning for the clues. Perhaps the most telling was the temporal effect, and the other properties exhibited by the alien matter. The way the enemy technology seemed to bend the physical laws. To the novice, it would have appeared bizarre, and incomprehensible. But Servetus had studied the phenomena, and formulated the simulations. Assuming that the A.I.’s understanding of quantum laws was accurate, a correlation had begun to emerge.

“So you think they’re from another universe?” Julian asked.

IT IS A POSSIBILITY. HOWEVER, THERE IS A GREATER LIKELIHOOD THAT THE INVADERS COME FROM THE EDGE OF OUR UNIVERSE, WHERE TIME AND SPACE IS ALTERED.

“Altered?”

“Yes,” Arendi said. “We once thought that perhaps the invaders had come from a parallel universe. But then Servetus began noticing the patterns.”

The A.I. had done more than that. Within its own virtual database, it had been piecing together the clues gleaned from the observed data. The end result was a simulation that tried to envision the reality from which the Endervars had come from. It was only a partial map, and much of it was still speculative. But Servetus had been quick to realize it matched with another set of theoretical concepts lodged in its databanks.  

On the cracked screen, the A.I. displayed the simulation’s overall framework, but then overlaid it against existing research from Earth’s scientific community.

It was a near match, the observed data almost synching with the proposed conditions that might exist on the outer edge of known reality.

“That’s over 13 billion light-years away,” Julian said. “In a region called ‘exiled space.’”

CORRECT. THE PROPERTIES EXHIBITED FROM THE INVADERS ALIGN WITH SELECT THEORETICAL CONCEPTS ON THE FORMATION OF THE UNIVERSE.

“But the temporal effect,” Arendi explained. “It likely comes from their part of the universe.”

“It’s as if the two realities are almost colliding,” Julian added, having seen some of the data. “But still... In my mind... That’s the key, isn’t it?”

He looked down at his hand again, and felt the mysterious influence tingle over his skin.  

“I explained to Servetus what you saw,” Arendi said. “The visions. The collapse of the universe.”

“I know. It doesn’t make much sense. But it wasn’t an end. It was something else...”

REPORTS OF THE VISIONS ARE GROWING, AND MATCH WITH THE ACCOUNT YOU GAVE. IN MOST CASES, THE EFFECT IS HARMLESS.

“But in the long term?” he asked. “Are they trying to change us?”

IT IS CURRENTLY UNKNOWN. MORE DATA NEEDS TO BE COLLECTED. THE CURRENT ANALYSES HAVE FOUND NO ENTRY THAT CAN EFFECTIVELY CROSS THROUGH THE ENEMY GATEWAY AND INTO EXILED SPACE.

Julian walked closer to the damaged display. It was another glimpse at the enemy, albeit pulled together from the ancient A.I.

Servetus had been diligent as ever, bringing some clarity to the mystery of the enemy. But even so, it was ill-equipped to delve any further, both exiled space and the human mind, the two areas from which it could not approach.

“The collapse of the universe... Why would they want that? It’s such a strange message.”

AS YOU MENTIONED, PERHAPS IT IS NOT AN END.

Servetus then displayed the next simulation. Although it had been created a day ago, it was grounded in cosmology and quantum mechanics, the resulting theory just one possibility among the many.

What Julian saw echoed his vision. The known universe was on display, but shrinking, eventually coalescing into one point. Then in an explosion, it bloomed again, expanding out, and restoring the natural order once more. Watching the sight, Julian instinctively opened his hand, only to close it, and repeat the motion.

THE ELION WILL REMAIN HERE IN THE GATEWAY, ANALYZING THE NEW VARIABLES AND PREPARING FOR THE EVENTUAL LIBERATION OF EARTH.

BUT AS FOR YOU CAPTAIN NVERSON, IT IS IMPERATIVE THAT YOU CONTINUE WITH YOUR MISSION.

A second later, and Julian heard the alert from his communication band. It was from Arendi.

“I have just sent you a message composed by Servetus,” she said. “It is meant for the Alliance.”

YOU MUST STOP THE OURYAN COLLAPSER. OTHERWISE, BILLIONS OF LIVES WILL BE NEEDLESSLY LOST. BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY, IT WILL LIKELY DO NOTHING TO HALT THE ENEMY’S ADVANCE. THE FULL SCALE OF THEIR ACTIVITIES HAS YET TO BE UNDERSTOOD.

“In all likelihood, they’re expanding across not just our galaxy, but the universe, operating on a macro level beyond what was previously imagined,” Arendi said. “The war will not stop with just one galaxy. Instead, we must learn to turn their technology against them. While we still can.”

FOR NOW, THE ELION REMAINS UNDETECTED. IT IS A WEAKNESS WE MUST CONTINUE TO EXPLOIT. A WEAKNESS THAT MAY LEAD TO THE ENEMY’S UNDOING.

He thought back to the missile casings in the Elion’s hanger bay, and then the other blueprints he had seen. All of them were technologies that could fight the enemy.

“We have to convince the Alliance,” Arendi added. “They need to know that there’s another way.”

“Agreed,” Julian said. “I’ll prep the ship for takeoff.”

But that wasn’t all. Servetus had one other important request.

The door to the mainframe room opened, the large control bot at the entrance. It lumbered forth, carrying the cargo box between its two pincered hands. 

“We have another message we’d like to send,” Arendi said. “This one for Earth.”

It went against everything she once wanted to believe, the act pointless and ultimately superficial. Machines had no need for such things, the appearance just a facade. It should have been a waste of resources, a waste of time, both her logic and Servetus pointing out the inconsistency.

But Arendi didn’t care anymore. She let the sentiment take over, as she stood in the Elion’s lab room, the material on a medical tray at her side.

At first, it was painful to do it. To even look at the damage brought out the shame. But as that first moment passed, she went on and made the careful repairs. Arendi was determined, holding the synthesized skin in her gloved hands.

The physical replica stood only a few inches away. “Miya” she had called it, the android a twin vessel that had once housed her former consciousness. Unfortunately, it had not been a peaceful existence, the damage evident in both body and face.

Arendi had wanted to avoid it — the replica and its scars just a reminder of her horrid past. The humanity that had been ingrained in her programming, how hard she had tried to strip it all away. To try and contain it, even destroy it, if need be. The flesh and the hair all pulled back, the machine that she wanted to be, bleeding through.

Those feelings had been so real, the anger almost uncontrollable. Even with the cold logic, it could do nothing to temper it. The need to just end it.

Remembering the raw emotions, Arendi took a step back.

It doesn’t matter,
she told herself.
Not anymore.

Calmly, she pressed the synthetic peel against her replica’s cheek, and sealed it with the solution. Although the coloring was slightly off, the substance was a close substitute for white skin. 

Arendi readied the next batch, having already finished with much of the face. Hours ago, she had produced the ingredients from the fabrication equipment brought by the Au-O’sanah. The textures and fibers had meshed together to form replacement material, the patches of skin, human lip and strands of hair clean and new.

The body before her stood still, the android shut off, and the eyes closed. Taking the next piece, Arendi placed the skin under the machine’s left eye, filling out the rest of the face.    

She stopped and stared at her former self. The body was nearly whole again, the old scars that had lingered for so long, just a memory.

Arendi was about to continue, when she heard the door open behind her. She turned and saw Julian at the entrance.

“Hey,” he said, only to find himself staring past her. He entered the room and walked closer, noticing the difference.

The android, although powered down, was starting to look almost identical to Arendi. The only contrast was in the replica’s long, but incomplete hair.

“Nice,” he said. “She seems much better now.”

Arendi nodded, placing the vial of solution back on the medical tray.

“Has it all been loaded?” she asked.

“We’ve transferred almost all the missiles and other technologies to the Au-O’sanah. We’ll be ready soon.”

As he spoke, Julian spotted the medical tray, and saw the collection of tools, along with the strands of synthesized hair. He then looked at Arendi, and noticed her placid gaze toward him.

“Listen, I understand if you want to stay,” he said. “This is your home. More work needs to be done here.”

Arendi saw him catching a glance of the medical tray, and then the replica behind her.

“No, no,” she said. “I’m coming with you.”

She stepped away, and began removing the gloves from her hands.

“Our missions are the same,” Arendi added. “I know I can help.”

“But what about Servetus?”

She looked away from him, and pressed the back of her neck.

“My actions, my behavior, perhaps they deviate from the protocols,” she said. “In a way, they always have.”

“But is it what you want?” he asked.

She pondered over the question. In her mind, cycled the thoughts, the emotions never far behind.

What do I want?

She could think back to the logic. The need to follow the set orders.

For so long, Servetus had done so, following the age-old directives of its long-dead master.

Even now, the ancient A.I. called to her. The command codes sent. The takeover protocols knocking at her mind.

How easy it would be to hate him. To despise Servetus and the dead woman she had been based on. The mixture of logic and emotion said so. That Arendi was a tool. An experiment. A project that could be tinkered with. Not a life at all, but expendable. 

Arendi didn’t care for any of that.

She bore no ill-will to her creators. They had simply done their best to save humanity.

Now Arendi was doing the same.

“The choice is mine.” She then looked into his direction. “Yes, this is what I want.”

Julian smiled back.

“I hope Servetus understands.”

“I don’t know if he will. To him, it’s an error that he can’t explain. So I’ve made a backup and transferred a copy of my current state into his databanks,” she explained. “Maybe one day he will understand.”

Arendi walked over to her replica in the room, and saw the quiet face in her midst. Affectionately, she touched the android’s cheek, and brushed back the bangs of the machine’s black hair.

“We will return Arendi,” Julian said.

“I know. I have no doubt.”

Relieved, Julian eventually left the room, and headed back to the Au-O’sanah. But before he did so, he wished to convey one final sentiment. 

“We’ll take off when you’re ready,” he had said. “Glad to have you back.”

As she continued with the final repair, Arendi remembered that statement and smiled. The feeling was mutual.

In the end, it was simple. Julian had meant something to her, and she did not want to leave him. Despite her past, and what her creator had wanted, Arendi could forsake it all. She needed to only look at him, and realize it: she was no longer alone.