“Hey, you didn’t see the future coming. You also didn’t know I was immortal. Me either. A lot of water under that bridge. Look, I made an offer. It’s the best chance you’ve had in years. Give me what I want, and you’ll start a new life.”

  “Leave.”

  “I’ll give you a day to run it through your ol’ Chancellor noggin.”

  “Leave me, Michael.”

  He pulled on his pipe and turned for the door.

  “You didn’t say no. See you soon, Angie.”

  “They’ll never stop coming for you, Michael. They’ll …”

  He didn’t stay for the rest of her blather. The door slid shut and Michael made for the lift. En route to his Scramjet, Michael entered Occip and inserted a new order for Lioness command:

  No meals for Angela Poussard until further notice.

  During the brief worm jump home, Michael acknowledged the truth in Angela’s last warning. The Chancellors weren’t going to give up on Aeterna. They knew they’d have to go through Michael, which they probably feared more than the defense network. When they gave up the hunt, someone else would take their place.

  The Splinter Alliance? Disgruntled trade partners? Fanatics from Earth? Or maybe a collection of clever assholes who hadn’t been born yet?

  “They’ll always want what we have,” he told no one from the nav circle. “This shit will never end.”

  For now, he’d be happy with a buffer zone. Twenty years sounded about right. Danny, Harry, and his daughter would be grown by then. They’d have the skills to take on the next round of threats.

  These thoughts clouded his mind over dinner with his family.

  “Father, you’re quiet tonight,” Danny said.

  “Am I?”

  “You haven’t told one stupid dad joke.”

  “Hey, I spend a lot of time crafting my zingers just for you boys. And how’d you know to call them ‘dad jokes.’?”

  Danny pointed to his mother. Samantha smiled while sipping wine.

  “My father sprinkled a few around whenever he was fast enough.”

  “Wait a minute. You talking about Walt? I thought he walked around with a cob up his ass. Pardon my language, boys.”

  “He bought a joke book. He thought it would help him fit in.”

  “That was an epic fail.”

  Memories of his life before this universe made rare appearances. He hated their inconvenience. If nothing else, they reminded him of a simple truth: Danny and Harry would never know their grandparents.

  “Is it true, Father? You come up with jokes just for me and Harry?”

  “Oh, sure. Got to have something family friendly in my back pocket, or your Mom will take me out to the woodshed.”

  “What’s a woodshed?”

  “A place you don’t ever wanna go.”

  “Oh, hey. I passed my last physical today. Doc Ranke says I’ll be ready for Occip next week. I can’t wait.”

  “Don’t get too excited. We’re gonna roll it out nice and slow. Might take a few months before you have all the features.”

  Michael and Samantha debated when to immerse their sons into the Aeternans’ virtual world. Michael planned to hold off until his wife made a crucial point: As the boys grew older, their differences with the immortals would extend beyond appearance. If they were denied access to Occip, they’d become cut off from the community and feel like outsiders.

  “What about me?” Harry said, dropping his fork. “Why can’t I have one like Danny?”

  “Give it a few years, Son. You’ll be there before you know it.”

  “But it’s not fair.”

  Samantha’s soothing voice settled the moment.

  “Your brain needs to grow, Harry. An implant will hurt you if we insert it too soon. We want you to grow up big and strong.”

  “Like Daddy?”

  “Just like Daddy.”

  Michael flexed his biceps and gritted his teeth, a combination the boys always loved.

  After dinner, the boys settled into their nighttime routine of reading for two hours before bed. Michael sat with Danny, whose recent foray into pre-history Earth literature made his father proud. At times, the philosophical concepts challenged both, but they also produced lively debates and discussions of history. Harry sat with his mother, who guided him into his first chapter books and more nuanced vocabulary.

  The streets of Promise were filled with young adults indulging in bacchanalian delights, something Michael used to enjoy alongside them. Now, he preferred the quiet simplicity of being a proud father.

  Why couldn’t it always be like this?

  Why did peace have to be an illusion?

  “You know why I have to do these things,” he told Samantha after the boys fell asleep. They sat outside their habitat, unbothered by passersby who knew to respect the Founding Parents’ space.

  “I know why you think they’re necessary, sweetie. The boys will be fine. They’re growing up in paradise. You’ve done right by them.”

  “It’s not enough.”

  “It will be if you decide it is.”

  “I’m gonna make sure they never have to go to war.”

  “Don’t put everything we’ve built in jeopardy.”

  “Not a chance. I’ll sign the deal with Cortez tomorrow night. After that, I’m sure he’ll make the right choice.”

  “If he doesn’t?”

  He pulled away from Samantha and stared at the night sky.

  She didn’t need to know. Not yet.

  “Look, babe. I have business to finish. Might take a few hours. Don’t wait up for me.”

  He kissed her like he’d fallen in love for the first time. She didn’t try to stop him. They agreed years ago not to cross certain lines.

  The next bit he’d put off for too long. It had to be done.

  A short time later, his Scramjet hovered a few feet above the placid waters of Lake Profundus, its running lights off. The egress pixelated. Michael wore aquaskin, a bulbous breathing dome, and a jetpack. The deep dark made no distinction between the water and the distant land.

  He thought of Aldo Cabrise, who slept well a half-mile away, having recovered after his latest episode. Michael said a silent thank-you; he wouldn’t have known where to look if not for the old man’s persistence.

  Michael dropped into Occip and told the ship to land at the base of the mountain range and wait for him.

  Then he dove into the impenetrable blackness.

  He kicked a few times, dropped his arms backward, and trusted in his tech. Occip navigated the jetpack toward the destination a mile deep. Michael closed his eyes while he descended. Without them staring into the horrid abyss, Michael turned his life over to instinct. As he drew closer to the bottom, would he detect a new presence? Would they reach out to him?

  He first felt their touch nine years ago. They told him their story, showed him the path, welcomed him to a new home.

  He had not heard from them in years. Michael refused to believe they surrendered their responsibility to Aeterna’s future and chose to lay dormant. They made promises.

  Occip warned him when he reached the final fifty meters. Chest spotlights on his aquaskin ignited. The jetpack slowed in the last ten feet. He hit bottom with a soft bounce.

  Michael adjusted the spotlights to scan his surroundings. The beams penetrated the black soup for no more than a meter.

  There. The hole at the center. Five centimeters wide.

  Two columns of bubbles – one rising, one falling – passed through the narrow aperture.

  Michael did the only thing within his power: He sat beside the hole and waited.

  An hour passed.

  Did they expect him to give up and return home?

  If so, no such luck. They never warned him to stay away.

  He didn’t realize anything was happening until the water seemed less dense. Had his eyes adjusted to the blinding dark, or had the water cleared?

  The spotlights saw the details of the soft, sandy bottom for a greater distance. He twisted around and made sense of the change.

  A dome of clear water encircled him five meters in diameter.

  The tiny hole at the heart of the terraform erupted in a single column of bubbles, each tinted with a faint blue glow.

  The bubbles rearranged themselves into a double helix.

  Michael heard one word.

  “Ask.”

  He had many questions, but only one he dreaded.

  “I’m changing. Why?”

  The helix dissolved. The bubbles reconfigured into a series of orbs. New bubbles burst from the hole and added texture. It spewed forth smaller orbs, which rotated around the original, each linked by a tiny funnel.

  “Nine.”

  Michael needed a moment to see what the minutiae within each orb represented. He shut down Occip and cleared his thoughts. They spoke of nine universes. What did this truth have to do with his question? Did the Jewels even intend to answer the question?

  “Tell me.”

  One orb glowed red then disappeared. A second followed.

  “Dying.”

  “The universes?”

  “Time.”

  “All of it? Or just mine?”

  A third orb vanished.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m dying?”

  “Time dies. You are time.”

  “Answer my question. Am I dying?”

  All the orbs except the original turned red and vanished.

  “When there is no more time.”

  His mind went back to a little town in Alabama. To a place where he first died and regenerated.

  Where his impossible future began.

  Not here, but there. Across the divide.

  One of the eight orbs.

  The place of his birth.

  “Can I stop this from happening?”

  “Fight.”

  “Can I win?”

  The orb reconfigured into a double helix.

  “He knows how to find you.”

  The helix dissolved, and the blue bubbles retreated down the narrow hole. The dome of clear water collapsed.

  Michael fell again into the paralyzing dark.

  13

  K ARA DIDN’T MIND THE INTERRUPTION. She needed a distraction. Aldo Cabrise’s blood sample produced no clear findings and was being run again. Ham struggled to break an encryption on the memglass and didn’t know how soon he’d access Aldo’s research.

  Kara met Chi in the galley. They hadn’t seen each other since they parted ways in Promise a day ago. Chi sat by herself smoking, her dinner tray untouched.

  “I’m sorry I haven’t touched base, Chi. Things have been tense.”

  “I wouldn’t have been the best company.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I heard about tomorrow’s big event in Promise.”

  “It’s important for our alliance. Minister Cooper says it’s going to be the bash of the century.”

  “Do we have to go?”

  “That’s the plan. Why?”

  “To be honest, I’ve had my fill of the place.”

  Kara saw distant eyes. She recognized regret.

  “You were so enthusiastic, Chi. What happened down there?”

  “Tell me something, K. And be straight. Do you think I have a death wish?”

  “What? Where is this coming from?”

  “I’ve been a different woman since we left Hokkaido.”

  “A stronger one, Chi. You found your calling. You’ve grown more than anyone on Scylla.”

  She pulled on the pipe and allowed the smoke to cloud her face.

  “Have I? Or am I looking for a way to die? Is that what becoming a soldier was all about?”

  “Chi, I’m confused. You love being a Talon.”

  “I do. I also love my parents. They think I’m dead, and I’ll probably never see them again. I put them out of my mind when we left Hokkaido. It was too hard to think about. I tried to look ahead. I latched onto the first person who seemed different and exciting.”

  “Yusef Matook.”

  “He made the pain go away. He was the first man I’d ever been with. Twice my age, but I didn’t care.”

  “And he helped you become a soldier. Everyone here was so proud when you took that black armor. Chi, what happened down there?”

  “I promised I wouldn’t talk about it.”

  “Who made you promise?”

  “Col. Woolsey.”

  “Exeter?”

  “He was my superior officer during the War Games, and he’s the only one who really knows this crew and the Aeternans. He said he didn’t want a misunderstanding to come between us.”

  “Exeter is smart, and he’s been a great bridge. But he has his own set of issues. I don’t think it’s fair for him to ask you to carry around whatever this secret might be.”

  “It doesn’t leave this table, K. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.”

  Chi explained the broad strokes of her night in Promise and her experience with the immortal Den Kwo. When she reached the moment where Den revealed his knife and told her where to stab, Chi put down her pipe.

  “They like to kill each other. It’s how they appreciate life. They have this incredible gift, and it’s not enough. It’s sick.”

  “Exeter told you this?”

  “I didn’t take it well. I questioned whether they were human. He was not pleased.”

  “I wouldn’t be either, if the tables were turned. But your point was valid, Chi. It does feel like they’re abusing their gift. What I don’t understand is how it connects back to you. Why do you think you have a death wish?”

  “The whole time I wandered around, I regretted leaving Den Kwo like that. A part of me wished I did what he asked. I can see myself doing it, even now. Maybe to feel what it was like to take a life up close, or maybe because …”

  Chi cut herself off. Kara saw regret lead to a darker place.

  “Don’t say it, Chi. You don’t mean it.”

  “I think I do, Kara.”

  “No. You’re conflating issues that have nothing to do with each other. You can’t possibly imagine the mind of an immortal. They don’t view life anything like we do. Especially that group in Promise. You need to put this out of your mind.”

  “And replace it with what?”

  “Your parents. Think about how much you still love them. You will see them again. It might be a long time, but you’ll return. So will I. Our story won’t end out here.”

  Chi pulled her dinner tray close.

  “I know I’m being stupid. Is there any way the Captain can make an exception tomorrow? I don’t want to see that city again.”

  “I’ll talk to him as we finalize plans. No guarantees.”

  “There never are anymore. Thanks, K.”

  Kara didn’t want to leave Chi alone, so she was happy to run into Meena Yoo, the only other female Talon and also a Hokki from another universe.

  “Don’t tell her I said anything, Meena. She could use a friend.”

  Meena did not participate on the immortals’ side during the Games like Chi and shrugged with disinterest whenever anyone asked about shore leave on Promise. Perhaps the two would commiserate. Meena did not mince words.

  Kara left the matter in Meena’s hands and returned to C&C. She saw Ham, Cando, Yusef, and Paul clustered together, studying a detailed holo. She heard Cando say:

  “But will it work?”

  “He seems to think so.” Ham said. “I’m not sure. Many teams in Special Services were assigned to study the problem. It wasn’t my field of expertise.”

  She stepped into the huddle.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Cando grabbed her hand.

  “We have it. Aldo’s so-called cure for the Chancellors’ genetic collapse. It was sitting at the top of the old man’s data spools.”

  “He prioritized it for us,” Ham said.

  Kara understood the implications.

  “Did he report it to Michael, like he claimed?”

  “Two years ago, according to his notes.”

  “Michael lied. He withheld a potential cure for hundreds of millions of people.”

  “Billions, if you count their potential progeny. Keep in mind, we only have Aldo’s assertion that this chemical matrix will reverse the decline. Human testing will take years.”

  “This is genocide.”

  “From a certain point of view, perhaps.” Ham sighed. “Michael isn’t killing off the Chancellors; we did that to ourselves. He simply decided not to lend us a helping hand. As long as this report never sees the light of day, those same hands remain clean.”

  Cando said, “I don’t follow Michael’s logic. From what I know of his history with the Chancellory, why wouldn’t he leverage this report to secure peace with his enemies?”

  “A man thinking in the short haul would. Michael’s immortal. He’s thinking about centuries from now. Remember what he told Aldo: He didn’t want the Chancellors reproducing, growing in power, and reconstructing their empire.”

  “You have contacts, Ham. Can you forward this to them?”

  “It must end up in front of the proper eyes. Many Chancellors still won’t admit there is a problem. I’ll need time to consider names. Our concern is more immediate.”

  They retired to Ham’s office to ponder the implications for tomorrow night.

  “In simplest terms,” Ham said, “we’ve caught Michael covering up a discovery that pre-dated his knowledge of us, the Alliance, or the Splinters. In effect, his agenda to silence an old enemy forever. The question is what it means going forward. Can we trust him? Did our access to Aeterna come with a hidden price?”

  Kara didn’t like his tone.

  “Are you suggesting the past month has been a ruse?”

  “A ruse. A trap. Simple misdirection. Or perhaps Michael is stumbling through the dark like we are. Learning Amayas Knight’s true identity no doubt threw him off his game. He’s not the great general he claims to be. It’s possible he decided to take a gamble on a new ally. We could be overthinking his motives.”

  “I don’t know, Ham. I have a hard time trusting anyone who would allow an entire race of people to die out when he had the ability to stop it. You said yourself: He sent weapons to Earth, knowing they would kill millions of people. He has more blood on his hands than the people he’s trying to kill off.”