Caleb proceeded along the central avenue with a cluster of friends, notably Oryn and Halsted.

  “That exceeded expectation,” Oryn said. “Maya’s losing her grip.”

  Caleb chuckled then nudged Halsted in the side.

  “I thought you went a bit over the top.”

  “Words conquer, my friend.”

  “Yes, but the line between creative rhetoric and parody is thin. Maya wasn’t buying it. Good thing Tess knew when to enter.”

  “Indeed,” Oryn said. “She’s gone above and beyond. If the Council had the faintest hint of her involvement ...”

  Caleb needed to thank her in person. Doc Tess Ranke took a bigger risk than any Revivalist.

  “Has she made progress?” Caleb asked.

  Oryn grinned. “She believes we’re days from confirmation. You were right: The instructions on the hand-comm show us how to engineer immortality. After we know for sure, we’ll make our next move. The Council won’t be able to stop us.”

  A weight fell from Caleb’s shoulders.

  “Good to know my forty days were worth the sacrifice.”

  “A glorious distraction,” Halsted said.

  “I’d love to visit her lab, see the good work.”

  Oryn counseled patience.

  “Stay clear for the moment. She’s in a delicate spot.”

  “Understood. Perhaps you two could join me at the house for a celebratory dinner tonight?”

  Halsted marveled at the invite and said he’d bring wine.

  “I trust we won’t run into your husband. Awkward would not begin to describe the encounter.”

  Caleb’s joy at today’s victory morphed into a simmering rage.

  “He’s not my husband. Not anymore.”

  4

  Battle Cruiser Lioness

  EXETER STEPPED OUT ONTO the hangar deck in a daze. If he suffered from a simple case of information overload, he’d gladly retreat to his quarters, dictate a range of notes, and sort through the rubble.

  No. This was so much bigger.

  A steady hand. That’s what they need. That’s what I’ll provide.

  He straightened his uniform, saluted the deck crew, and returned to his operations center on Level 4.

  Exeter called together his small team. Their first question:

  “Learn anything down there, Commander?”

  The Specialist who asked had no idea how loaded the answer might be. Exeter’s recent encounter with Shoan Gui – or what was left of the man – dominated his thoughts ...

  “I hear you’re a Commander these days,” Shoan said when he regained human form. “Do you mind terribly if we talk?”

  Exeter pulled himself together and searched his mental inventory for the dozens of questions he stored since their last encounter.

  “Be happy to,” he said. “You can start by explaining what you are and what that is.” Exeter pointed to the toxic fog on the horizon.

  Shoan nodded toward the fog with a bemused “oh, that little thing” glance. His irises twinkled.

  “To the Change itself, I must ask for patience, Exeter. I am not allowed to discuss the future. As Judge of the Change, my job is to assess the Aeternan population’s viability. Even a hint of what is to come will undermine my assessment.”

  “Double talk. Speak plain or don’t bother.”

  Shoan did not appear to take offense. He was a spot-on duplicate for the last images taken before the Lake Profundus incident, right down to the bodysuit he wore that day and his hairstyle, part down the middle. Yet he was too polished, an artificial variant.

  “I will try,” Shoan said before adding, “when I can.”

  “Start by telling me who you really are. Do Jewels have names?”

  “Yes, but I’m not a Jewel of Eternity.”

  “Don’t play games.”

  Shoan frowned, as if Exeter had driven a mental dagger.

  “I have no concept of being anyone other than myself. I hear my mother’s voice as she rocks me to sleep on Hokkaido. I play with my mates in the schoolyard. I dive into the ocean off Pinchon and see the wonders of the deep. I savor the tender, flaking meat of a perfectly roasted Kohlna fish. I say goodbye to Aldo Cabrise on his deathbed. These things are more vivid to me than ever. I’m able to see farther and move from place to place with greater ease. But I am not a Jewel.”

  Nothing in the long-winded response felt unnatural. If he hadn’t seen the physical transformation twice, Exeter might have believed he was talking to a man who found inner peace.

  “Would I be wrong to call you an emissary?”

  Shoan winked.

  “I will speak for the Jewels.”

  “After two quiet months, you must be anxious to talk.”

  “To you, Exeter. Only to you.”

  Exeter glanced to his side. The soldier who accompanied him to the Scramjet had disappeared inside the research dome.

  “Talk to me, Shoan.”

  The emissary stretched his hand to meet a cluster of yellow moths and waited for several to alight there.

  “Exeter, do you have a theory as to what the chasm might be?”

  “No.”

  “Good. A free mind is open to discovery. Follow the science, but do not be afraid of what you find. Fear will always be the wrong response.”

  “You said that two months ago. There are many frightened people on this planet. Some have fled. Are we in danger?”

  Shoan blew on the moths, and they flittered away. He watched them with a crumpled smile.

  “When are you not? Danger is an inherent companion to life. I told you how to proceed.”

  “Right. Follow the science and don’t be afraid. For an emissary, you’re coming up short on specifics.”

  He shrugged.

  “Point taken, Exeter. What do you think of the protein discovery?”

  That one felt too on the nose. But he did want specifics.

  “Protein? I ...”

  “Yes. My eyes and ears are finely tuned. Do you have a theory as to how a synthetic protein can suddenly appear in nature?”

  “It didn’t. The protein was always there. The Jewels are allowing it to be seen. What is its function? Is it planetwide? Is it inside us?”

  “Excellent questions. Seek rational answers. Avoid emotion. It’s plain to see, but only if you are willing to see.”

  Exeter cleared his throat.

  “You’re slipping into double talk.”

  “Or you’re not listening. Exeter, they want you to lead. The Jewels are masters in the study of universal causality. They see every possible direction the Change might go, but prefer one. Lead these people.” He tapped his head. “With this.” He thumped his chest. “Not this. What is your motto? ‘When in the throes, do what must be done.’”

  Exeter thought to ask how Shoan knew something so intimate, but the question answered itself. Sonofabitch was everywhere.

  Shoan continued:

  “You executed the traitors in your Admiralty not out of anger or a sense of revenge. You needed to send a necessary message after a period of great turbulence. The Change requires leaders who stand firm in the face of chaos and division.”

  How was he supposed to feel about planet creators anointing him to chart a course through whatever in ten hells lay ahead? Exeter took a new tack.

  “Earlier, you said your job was to assess our ‘viability.’ Care to explain how the Jewels interpret viability?”

  “No. That will be determined through discovery. I have told you enough for today. Take my words. Process them.” Shoan winked again. “You’ll find I’m a surprisingly helpful signpost.”

  Exeter homed in on one word.

  “Today? Am I to take it you’ll see me again soon?”

  “Hmm. Interesting word. Soon. I feel as if I saw you at the Joy Circle in Genoa but seconds ago. So yes, Exeter. I’ll see you again. Soon.” Parts of his body morphed into blue winged worms. “Never forget: Fear will always be the wrong response.”

  He left with a final wink. The swarm gathered strength as it spun around itself into the large fields of bentwheat grass. The yellow moths drawn to the Carbedyne fins followed the flickering creatures.

  Exeter gathered his thoughts from the Nav chair and activated the wormhole drive. Moments later, he stepped onto the Lioness hangar deck and set his focus on the task ahead. When Exeter called his team together, he focused on a piece of Shoan’s instructions ...

  “Learn anything down there, Commander?”

  Exeter responded to Spec. Esme Traut with a sharp nod.

  “Oh, yes,” he said of the protein. “But it doesn’t affect our work up here, at least not yet. I’ll brief you later. For now, we need to expand our scope.” He turned to Lt. Lleyton Mars, best of the group at parsing reams of topographical data. “Lleyton, how extensive are our climatological data spools?”

  The strapping man with a shaved head and thin mustache whistled.

  “You’re talking historical, sir?”

  “I am.”

  “No idea, to be honest. Global climate patterns have been so consistent for decades, they’ve never been a priority for study.”

  “They are now.” He focused on Spec. Harland Cress, who wore a green butterfly tattoo on each cheek. “Bring up live images over the entire hemisphere. I want detailed reports on precipitation rates. Upper atmospheric patterns. Barometric pressure trends. All of it.”

  “What are we looking for, sir?” Cress asked.

  “Any deviations from the historical norm. Don’t begin the study from when the chasm appeared. Assume the climate has been changing in this region in subtle ways for years.”

  Exeter studied the topographic surveys and focused on rivers and lakes within a few dozen kilometers of the chasm.

  “Esme, narrow to a hundred-kay radius beyond the chasm. Then filter out everything except the chasm and bodies of water.”

  She threw up a holographic control module and input parameters.

  “This will take a moment, sir. What are we looking for?”

  Exeter wasn’t sure how honest he wanted to be. Were they ready to handle the reason for his hunch? Best to save it for later.

  For now, focus on the science.

  “I’m guessing,” he lied to Traut, who finished her calculations and waited for the appropriate overlays.

  The holograph cut away a rounded segment of Aeterna and dissolved all else to black. As the land inside the segment dissolved, leaving only the filtered features, Exeter stepped back.

  The chasm dominated from the center, but only as a white blur hidden beneath toxic fog. A network of winding and, at times, jagged rivers intersected each other and a few small lakes. Some coursed through the varying terrains to form what seemed like a fine mesh from this orbital view.

  “Anything stand out?” He asked the team.

  They hesitated until Spec. Cress finally answered:

  “I can’t imagine it’s terribly different than if we filtered most any other region of the planet.”

  Lt. Mars chuckled.

  “Looks like the way I feel after a few hours inside Occip.”

  Yes. That!

  “Blood-shot eyes,” Exeter said. “We’ve all been there.”

  Prolonged use of Occip tended to expose the tiny network of nerves in the sclera.

  “Your point?” Traut asked.

  Exeter remembered Shoan’s instructions:

  “It’s plain to see, but only if you are willing to see.”

  Time to play this out.

  “Eyes are remarkable organs, but their complexity is hidden from view. Blood-shot eyes reveal a hint of what lies within. What if these rivers and lakes serve a larger organ?”

  The team’s silence came as no surprise. Cress spoke first.

  “Are you suggesting they’re directly connected to the chasm?”

  “They have a role. Yes. Look at their patterns. Unless I’m missing it, not one river intersects the chasm.”

  Traut leaned into the filtered image and gasped.

  “You’re right. The closest avoid the edge by at least a kilometer.”

  “How did we miss that?” Mars asked.

  Exeter patted him on the shoulder.

  “Esme, replace the chasm with the land before it imploded.”

  While Traut worked, Cress said:

  “Cudfrucker! Excuse my language, sir. I see what you’re trying to prove. If it’s ...”

  They didn’t have to wait long. The last image of the surface showed its connection to the surrounding ecostems minutes before the Event. Exeter ordered Traut to filter out everything but bodies of water.

  The black cutout confirmed the strange theory he developed after reflecting on Shoan’s advice.

  “Incredible,” Cress said. “No water sources. But the entire region is surrounded by them. The chasm imploded near the intersection of four distinct ecostems, all of which have fertile soil and lush flora. There’s no evidence of creeks or streams.”

  “It confirms your theory, sir,” Mars added. “The Jewels have been planning this all along. It was baked into their design. But for what purpose?”

  “There’s the question we need to explore,” Exeter told them. “If we can determine what role those rivers and lakes play, we might crack the truth. Let’s focus our subterranean scans beneath the river and lake beds. The drones can probe how deep?”

  Harland said they could map down six thousand feet.

  “After that, we hit interference. Been that way since Settlement. The Jewels have never been keen on allowing us to take too close a peek at their handiwork.”

  Exeter stifled a laugh.

  “Given how they responded when Shoan Gui planted explosives at the bottom of Profundus, I don’t intend to stretch our luck. Questions?”

  The team sorted through a plan and went to work.

  Exeter retreated to his quarters to dictate notes.

  He didn’t realize how hungry he was until Rafael coaxed him away for lunch. Exeter waited until he cleaned his plate before discussing the synthetic protein, Shoan’s visitation, and latest revelation about the chasm. The Admiral finished his fruit juice and said he needed a much stronger drink.

  “How much do you intend to tell the Council?”

  Exeter predicted the question.

  “None of it. Yet. Everything we know can only lead to speculation. And frankly, I’m wary of the Council. Not all. Samantha, I trust without reservation. Maya Solis is too protective of the chair; she won’t do anything foolish. But the others? I haven’t had dealings with them in years. I’m especially concerned about Doc Ranke’s agenda.”

  Rafael sighed hard and deep.

  “Almost makes me long for the old days, when the Minister had absolute control.”

  “Yeah. The Cooper regime. The one we conspired to end if Michael crossed a red line.”

  The Admiral nodded.

  “Not our finest hour. Glad he never forced us to act. But you do need to take care, X. Many of our kind are accusing us of denying them the truth. We haven’t been transparent.”

  Exeter called upon more of Shoan’s advice.

  “It’s a double-edged sword, Rafa. If we tell them everything, they’ll fear the possibilities. If we hide everything, they’ll fear what they don’t know. I’d rather take a moderate course for now. If the Council wishes, I’ll send out a broad Occip reassuring everyone that we’re working hard and in their best interests.”

  “It won’t quell the fear.”

  “No, but it’ll tamp down the temperature a few degrees. And the admins in the satellites can pass it on to the pilgrims.”

  Exeter saw skepticism in his old friend’s grimace.

  “Talk to me, Rafa. What is it?”

  The Admiral tossed his napkin onto his plate and slid out his chair.

  “I wonder what to say at the next homecomings. They’re bound to ask before they head down to Promise.”

  Homecomings. Plural.

  “Oh, yeah? Who’s returning?”

  “Three in the next three days. Elinor Rune from her trade mission on Earth. Alexis Cheronov from his military contractor work on Yaniff. And Omri Haffayah, who’s closing his outreach office on Xavier’s Garden.”

  “Damn. Three. That can’t leave many of us in the outer worlds.”

  Rafael shook his head.

  “This many,” he said, linking thumb and forefinger into a big zero. “When they return, we’ll have four to go – all on Amity Station.”

  “Our IC reps.”

  “And the Congress is scheduled to end its session in ten standard days. Know what that means?”

  Exeter nodded. The concept astonished him.

  “The first time every immortal has been in this system at one time since ...”

  “Never. History is about to be made.”

  “Hell of a coincidence, don’t you think?”

  “More than a little, X. They know what’s happened here. Most of their inquiries have gone direct to the Council, but I received a deepstream from Elinor and Alexis yesterday. Both spoke to a common theme: They’ve been thinking about settling in Promise for some time, but since the Event, they feel a sense of urgency.”

  “Why?”

  “They can’t explain it. Funny. This ship used to pass over Promise every day, but I have no thirst the planet will quench.”

  Exeter remembered a time when forty percent of Aeternans lived beyond the system, either serving in the UNF, trading missions, or private enterprises. That number dwindled after the UNF down-sized in the early Seventies and continued to slip at a steady pace over the past fifteen years.

  A worrisome thought nagged Exeter.

  “If the Revivalists wanted to make a case for secession, what better time to do it than when everyone’s home?”

  “Hadn’t thought of that one, X. When Caleb introduced you to the group, you said they were vague on their timetable for secession.”

  “Yeah. Well. I’m not sure how serious they were. I pointed out some dangerous flaws in their thinking. It’s also possible I underestimated their zeal. I’d rather not box them into a corner.”

  Rafael rapped on the table.

  “Which reminds me, did you receive notification from the Council about Caleb?”