Infinitys end, p.21
Infinity's End, page 21
She paused. “How do I know this isn’t a trick to subdue me?”
“Because you’re right. If they find you, you’ll be killed. And my sister would never forgive me.”
Evie was struck by his earnestness. It seemed—familiar. Out of all the Athru she’d met, Kithal was the most empathetic—something she thought the Athru weren’t capable of. Rockron and Dulthar hadn’t had any compassion. And Esterva—she had been too preoccupied with her own goals to see very far beyond herself. Had she never met Kithal, she would have had assumed Esterva was right about the entire species. But now all of that had changed. “Do I just…close my eyes? How does it work?”
Kithal glanced at the door over his shoulder, still standing open. “No, you don’t experience the passage of time at all. From your perspective I will literally close the doors and then open them again—you won’t even notice anything has happened.” He was rushing her inside, but she could understand why. The longer they stood her talking, the greater the chance they’d be caught. Evie stepped into the device and lay back against the upright table.
“See you in two seconds,” Kithal said and he closed the cabinet doors. Just as Evie watched the pinprick of light between the two doors diminish, she felt as if she were pulled—no, yanked away as if on a string to another place completely. She landed hard on her hands and knees, feeling a coarse grain beneath them. Everything was still dark, until it wasn’t. A purple light shone in the distance, illuminating a pre-dawn sky. Something must have gone wrong—he had tricked her after all. All his talk of having a sister—probably nothing more than propaganda to get her inside this thing, whatever it was. And now she was subdued.
But as Evie stood and glanced around, she realized she was no longer on the Athru ship; instead she was back on Sissk, standing beside the road that led away from Lechal and to her childhood home. In the distance stood the Selasi Mountains, but the whole place had a shimmery quality to it, as if it had been conjured in some way. This couldn’t be because of Kithal—somehow Sesster had pulled her back here, despite the vast distance between them.
“Sesster?” she called out. “Are you there?” Evie twirled in place, recognizing this as Sesster’s mind-place and not the actual place she’d lived most of her younger years.
Evie turned again and saw a figure walking toward her, but it shimmered as it moved and she had to squint in what little light there was to make out the shape. It had to be Sesster, like before, when they would come to this place together. She was impressed at how far his range seemed to stretch now; there had been a time when she needed to be in the same room with him to experience this kind of connection. “I’m so glad you came back,” she said, approaching the figure. “I was afraid after our last conversation—” She stopped short. The wavy figure cleared, but it wasn’t Sesster. It was Cas.
“Evie?” he asked, looking around. “What’s going on?”
“Is it really you?” She approached him carefully, unsure if this was some kind of illusion or not.
“Of course, it’s me, where are we? This looks like—Sissk. But that’s impossible, I was just at my desk—on Tempest. How can I be…” He trailed off, then stared at her. “Is this…the mind-place?”
She inhaled sharply. She hadn’t told anyone but him about this place before, because if there was one thing Cas was good at, it was keeping a secret. “It is you,” she whispered. She ran over to him and threw her arms round his neck, finding he was as solid as she was. He stumbled back.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “You’re alive.”
She pulled back from him. “Of course, I’m alive.”
“But Tos—Rutledge—I figured he would betray you—”
“He did,” she said. “He was in league with the Athru the entire time. They were waiting for us on Claxia Prime.”
Cas screwed up his features and seemed to realize he was still holding her by the waist. He promptly let go. “But why? To what end?”
“The Athru wanted me to join them—they tried to convert me,” she said. “Cas. Esterva is dead.”
His face fell. “Oh, Evie…I’m—I’m so sorry.”
She stopped any tears from welling up. Now was not the time. “I’m just glad you and the ship are okay. I wouldn’t let myself think about what might have happened—”
“I know how you feel,” Cas replied. “But don’t worry. We’re coming to get you. The fleet is on its way to the Horus system, intel or not.”
Evie’s eyes went wide but she couldn’t suppress a grin. “How did you make that happen? The Sil—”
“—are pissed, but they just needed proper motivation,” he said. “Are Sesster and Xax—?”
“Fine,” another voice said, startling them both. Evie turned to see what she had come to think of as the humanoid projection of Sesster came into being beside them. He didn’t so much appear as he dissolved into place, white robes and all.
“Sesster?” Cas asked, dumbfounded. “What the hell?”
“Captain,” Sesster said, his completely white eyes staring at Cas, “I have the ability to reach across vast distances, but I do not know how long it will last. I brought the two of you here while I still could…on Zenfor’s advice.”
“You spoke to Zenfor?” Cas asked. “How?”
“Why? What happened?” Evie echoed, concerned. “What’s wrong with Zenfor?”
He shook his head. “She’ll be okay. She just…had to exact some revenge on a certain former admiral we both know.” The way he said it made Evie think Zenfor hadn’t held back, for which she was glad.
“First I’d like to congratulate you on your promotion,” Sesster said to Cas.
“Sesster—” Evie began, not sure where to begin after their last short conversation.
“It’s alright,” he said softly. “I didn’t fully appreciate your position before. But I think I understand now.”
“What is he talking about?” Cas asked, concern in his eyes.
“He knows about the Coalition’s attempts to hide your original mission from the Claxians.” She faced Sesster. “I’m assuming all the Claxians know.” He nodded. “I never wanted to keep that from you. But I was foolish,” Evie said. “I believed what I was doing was for the good of the Coalition. I believed Rutledge when he told me it would make the Coalition a stronger organization. And yet, deep down, I think I still knew it was wrong.”
“You were trying to keep the peace,” Sesster said. “The truth is I first sensed something was amiss when Caspian came aboard at Starbase Eight.” Sesster’s white eyes settled on Cas. “You had so many secrets hidden in that mind of yours; it was hard not to listen to them all. I knew there was something wrong, and for a long time I managed to willfully ignore it. But during my…exile…I couldn’t ignore the truth any longer.”
Cas stiffened. “It was never my intention to drive the crew apart. Or undermine what you had. My issues with the Coalition ran deep. I was so blinded by hatred I couldn’t see how that hate was affecting those around me. I never should have put either of you in that position.”
Evie reached out to him, taking hold of his hand. “I’m glad you did. Neither of us would still be here if it weren’t for you.”
He smiled, squeezing her hand before it dropped away. “Sesster, we’re on our way to the Horus system. We’re coming to end this.”
“Cas, there’s something you should know,” Evie said. She’d been trying to find a gentle way of saying this, but for the life of her couldn’t figure out how. She just needed to get it out. “The Athru—they’ve…terraformed Earth. It doesn’t look anything like it used to. I think they’ve been strip-mining it to build their fleet here. Over seven thousand ships. I don’t know how the planet could come back from something like that.”
“What?” Cas’s face had gone pale. “How can that be?”
“They’re determined to annihilate you,” Sesster said. “And what better way than to strike a blow at your home planet?”
Cas took a few steps back, apparently in shock. Evie stayed close to him, in case he collapsed. “All those people—everyone I’ve ever known—”
“Esterva seems to think they were amassing some kind of weapon here, but I haven’t seen it yet. Just the ships. But all Coalition outposts in the system have been destroyed,” Evie added. “Except for the defense grid. It’s still there, just no longer operational.”
“I—I can’t…” Cas trailed off. Evie had nothing but sympathy for him. Had she been raised on Earth she’d probably feel the same way. Though, she wasn’t sure she’d feel much pity if Sissk had been destroyed.
“Captain,” Sesster said after Cas had a minute to process the shock. “Part of the reason I brought you here was to discuss this.”
“Discuss what?” Evie asked.
He stared at her, his demeanor calm and measured. “The fact Earth is not your home planet. And it never was.”
33
“I’m sorry?” Cas barked, the incredulity of what Sesster had said reverberating through his mind.
“It’s true. But humanity’s memory is so fragile. Or sometimes, you forget your own heritage because it suits you. About fifteen hundred years ago, there was a concerted effort by humanity to ‘lose’ records of your initial journey to Earth. The idea was humans would feel more protective of a world they considered their own.”
“But that’s…that’s insane,” Cas said. He glanced to Evie who had gone silent. “Right? I mean what about geological records? And…and I don’t know, archeological digs…and…Evie, help me out here.”
“I don’t know, Cas. Sesster doesn’t lie.”
“I’m not saying he’s lying; I’m saying he’s mistaken. Humans are from Earth. That’s just a basic fact.”
“Fact,” Sesster said, allowing the word to reverberate among them. “Facts can be distorted, even changed, through the lens of time. When you first arrived to us you were…lost. And even though you were desperate, you didn’t try to deceive us; you were more interested in learning about us, about exchanging ideas. And you weren’t the first.”
“What are you talking about?” Cas asked. This didn’t make any sense. Humans had been on Earth since the dawn of time—they’d evolved there, then left for the stars, only to find Claxia Prime, their closest celestial neighbor, was inhabited. “The discovery of Claxia set off a renaissance among humanity. It’s what pushed us into the stars, beyond the borders of the Horus system.”
Sesster shook his head. “No. You came from the stars.”
Cas couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was about to throw his hands up and walk away when he caught Evie’s gaze. “Hear him out,” she said. “You owe him that much at least.”
Cas gritted his teeth. She was right. “Okay. But with a healthy amount of skepticism.”
Sesster nodded, folding his hands inside his long robes. “Almost three millennia ago, humanity came to us from deep space on a city-sized ship. By the time you reached us, your population had dwindled to less than fifty-thousand, and many of your people were in stasis, with little promise of ever being revived.” Cas stifled an objection. “Back then you didn’t travel by the undercurrents. You didn’t know how. But you came to us from some place distant, having been in transit for tens of thousands of generations.”
“But,” Cas said, unable to hold himself in. “Where did we come from then? If we arrived here as you say…where is our home?”
“I don’t know,” Sesster replied. “That information was lost to time and the fact your ship had imprecise navigational records. It was impossible to tell where you’d come from. But one word remained in your vocabulary—a word that had always meant home: Earth.”
“I don’t understand,” Evie said. “We came to a system that just happened to have a planet named the same thing?”
“No,” Sesster said. “Before you arrived it was known to us as Menlasa, which meant blue ball in our language. We knew without help; humanity would not survive but another few centuries. Menlasa was without sentient life, so we allowed you to settle there, to make the planet your own. It was better suited for a species like yours, instead of mine. Your ancestors renamed it—as you did all the planets in our system, and our star—except for Claxia. You settled there, making the planet your home and taking care of it, as part of our original bargain.”
“I can’t believe this,” Cas said. “I need to sit down.” Behind him a chair appeared from thin air and he took a cautious seat until he was sure it wouldn’t disappear again. “So, we just stayed on Earth then? Made up our entire history?”
“In the beginning, no. It took years to wake all your people and ensure everyone had enough food and supplies to live. But you had ingenuity. You disassembled your ship to create your first settlement—New Phoenix—and you thrived on Earth. Within less than six hundred years, you’d reached into space once more, eager to explore. Eager to expand.”
“The beginning of the Coalition,” Evie said.
“Correct. It was humans who first proposed a celestial alliance, even after some had splintered off to explore other parts of the system, a group eventually settling on one of the moons of the gas giant Isis.”
“The Val,” Cas said, the pieces beginning to fall into place. “I knew they’d been human once—”
“—and they still are,” Sesster said. “Albeit they just look a little different now. A few millennia on a gravity-heavy world will do that to a species.”
Cas supposed he was right. Genetically they were very similar, despite the Val’s insistence they were not to be considered human or human-esqe in any way. He’d just come to accept they weren’t part of the same species, even though as he heard Sesster talk now that seemed ridiculous.
“This is wild,” Evie said. “So, from there did everything follow like we learn in school? About the founding of the Coalition?”
“More or less,” Sesster said. “The Claxians eventually gave humanity the ability to travel in undercurrents, as is taught, and from there we expanded together to build an alliance of worlds. It was the first time in the long history of the Claxians a visitor had come to our planet looking for peace, rather than to conquer. Had humanity tried to overtake us, we just would have allowed you to stay until you went extinct on your own. But because you arrived with a message of friendship and cooperation, we were happy to become your allies and partners.”
Cas stood from his chair, frowning. “That’s why it was so hard for you to hear about Rutledge’s subterfuge,” Cas said, reaching out for Sesster. But his hand passed right through the robed figure. “That’s why you went into hibernation.”
“I think I knew, intuitively, something had gone wrong deep within our alliance. But without any of my brothers or sisters around, it was too difficult to bear,” Sesster admitted. “I tried to maintain my composure as we observed the destruction brought on by the Athru, but in the end, it was too much. The mental stress was overwhelming.”
“And it was easier to hide yourself than try to face those of us who betrayed you,” Evie said. “So, when Volf announced she was taking the ship back to Hescal—”
“—I did the only thing I could to preserve myself,” Sesster said. “It was not the right decision, and it put you and the ship in danger.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Cas said. “It was ours. For allowing a small group of humans in power to make all the decisions for us. To put what we’d built and kept for thousands of years at risk. I guess…” He glanced out at the horizon to the rising sun just beginning to peek over the bald mountains. “I guess when humans become complacent, they forget who they truly are.” He glanced at Evie. “Comfort has a way of doing that to people. You forget how hard it is to struggle.”
“I suppose,” Sesster said. “I only wish we’d found out before this invasion. Perhaps we could have done something to prevent it.”
“So now what?” Evie’s voice wavered. “What are we supposed to do with this information?”
“I needed you to know, because I don’t want you to feel like Earth is irreplaceable,” Sesster said. “Do not feel like you have to fight to your dying breath to save it. Humanity can live on. You’ve done it once before. But if you are looking to eliminate the Athru threat—they have set up their primary operations on the surface of the planet.”
“What are you saying?” Cas asked.
“I know what he’s saying,” Evie said, her eyes hooded. “He’s suggesting we use the Athru’s own weapons against them—to destroy Earth.”
“What?” Cas felt a wave of nausea pass through him. “You can’t be serious.”
“I would never advocate for the complete destruction of another species,” Sesster said. “But I am also conflicted about these creatures. They seem determined to stay and have vast resources. My people will be subjugated forever. And all of the other members of the Coalition—sequestered on their planets, cut off from everyone else. It’s an imbalance of power.” Cas couldn’t detect any emotion on his “face”, but that only meant he wasn’t letting Cas see how he was really feeling. The intent in his words was clear enough.
“And therein lies a new problem,” Evie said. “I’ve had a chance to get to know one of them—a local. He tells me most of the Athru don’t care for this war, never have. That it is a few at the very top, in power, who follow the strict doctrine of their own genetic code, which tells them to destroy humanity, no matter the cost.”
“Evie, he’s lying to you,” Cas said. “It’s a ruse, to get you to trust them. Remember Rockron? Remember how he said nothing bad would happen?”
“Maybe. But you should have seen the way most of them shied away from me when I escaped. As if they were afraid and wanted nothing to do with me. It was very unlike the Athru we met on Hescal, chasing us down and mercilessly killing us, piling our bodies into strange forms. I’m afraid if we commit genocide on these people, we are no better than those who tried to take control of the Coalition for their own means. It’s just not that simple.”
