Boralene Page 20

  The signals came from the system of a yellow dwarf star roughly 4.6 billion years old circled by eight planets, four rocky inner planets and four outer gas giants, separated by an asteroid belt. The radio waves were coming from the third, a rocky planet which was smack dab in the middle of the zone terraformers considered an ideal distance from the sun for the formation of life. Its size was also nearly smack dab in the middle of the range suitable for terraforming, as was its mineralogical composition.

  In fact, its characteristics were nearly identical to those of Homeworld.

  Surface temperatures within the ideal range for humans, atmospheric density and composition within the ideal range for humans. Strong magnetic field produced by a large iron and nickel core to protect against solar waves, a surface composed of seventy-one percent water!

  Preliminary analysis of the planet's surface hinted that it was teeming with life, most of which was more complex than anything found anywhere but Homeworld, or on the human colony worlds populated with lifeforms from Homeworld. That in itself was a hugely exciting find.

  Following first contact protocols the drone refused to go close enough to the system that it might risk being detected. Which left it a race between whether its long distance sensors would divulge more information on the planet's inhabitants, which looked as if they numbered in the billions based on their population clusters and other visible impact on their planet, before the AI cracked the radio signals and extracted the information they carried.

  It turned out to be a pretty one-sided race: the sensors were still trying to get a definitive image on the planet's inhabitants when his data stream abruptly filled with audio and video fragments.

  Tycho's racing mind immediately plateaued in disappointment at the confirmation provided by those fragments. There could be no doubt the billions of intelligent lifeforms populating the yellow dwarf's third planet were human, although DNA analysis would be needed to confirm it. Scans showed no signs of the wreckage of a starship anywhere on the planet, or the presence of any other technology or artifacts other than those produced by the resident humans themselves, but that didn't change the fact that this wasn't a new alien species at all.

  Then his mind snagged on a specific video fragment and all other thoughts fled. He almost frenetically shifted it to a display in front of the void he hovered in, then stared at it in awe as a surge of familiar and unfamiliar emotions stirred within him.

  The video showed a man, woman, and two young children, a toddler boy and a girl of maybe seven or eight, in a primitive living area in what looked to be their home. The man was seated beside the girl offering what looked like instruction as she jotted solutions on paper to problems from a thick textbook. At one point he gave her a brief hug of approval and some words of praise, and she beamed.

  On the nearby couch the woman was cuddling the boy and reading to him from a picture book, while he eagerly pointed at pictures and identified things he recognized. Soon he tried to turn the pages himself, clumsily skipping several pages in his eagerness, but the woman remained unfazed as she continued reading from the new page.

  Tycho had never seen anything like this before, but he recognized it on some deep level that made his heart ache from its lack in his own life.

  It was a family. A mother and father, both living together and present with their children. Spending time with them and even sharing affection. Being a real, important part of each other's lives.

  He couldn't remember when his mother had stopped holding him, had stopped carrying him in her arms and hugging and kissing him. But he knew it had been years before she sent him away to his own estate when he was eight, as if she was distancing herself from him and preparing for their ultimate wrenching separation.

  A separation she hadn't needed to make. A loss of affection she hadn't needed to choose. The last time she'd hugged him had been as he was loaded onto his new ship to be sent hundreds of miles away from her, before Diana took his hand and guided him up the ramp.

  Tycho had no tears to cry with the sensations of his simulated body disabled, but he felt like he should be crying as he stared at the beautiful sight on that video clip from humans living such primitive lives. Primitive, happy lives. He wasn't sure if he'd be crying for his own sterile life, his parents mostly absent from it, or for the joy of the family he was watching.

  After watching the video fragment, which only lasted a few minutes, several times in a row, he moved on to other fragments. He saw a brief segment showing a huge crowd that had to have numbered in the thousands, tens of thousands, maybe even more, all packed together in exhilarating claustrophobia in an open space between dizzyingly high buildings and cheering as some sort of glittering sphere descended.

  He saw groups of men in some sort of uniforms, and at first assumed they must be fighting or brawling. Then he realized they were engaging in some sort of team sport, witnessed by cheering crowds packed on stands circling the field.

  More. Audio snippets that seemed to be rants about politics or social issues, videos of people celebrating or sharing tragedy or just living their lives. And the more Tycho saw, the more his disappointment that this wasn't a new source of intelligent life became replaced by excitement about what it was.

  This was what had been missing in his life. What he'd been searching for all this time. He'd finally found it, of all places on a bizarre human colony beyond the edge of the explored universe.

  Even if they weren't an alien species after all this discovery was still incredible. Momentous. A place where humans still interacted with each other constantly, not just in family units but in crowded public areas. Even in large groups of thousands or more!

  He had to tell someone. He had to tell everyone.

  But there was one particular person who needed to know first.

  * * * * *

  Tycho was shocked to discover that Callista was almost as excited as he was when she answered his face-to-face, and wondered if she was somehow aware of the amazing news he had to share.

  “Tych!” she said, nearly bouncing up and down in her eagerness. “I was just about to call! You'll never guess!”

  Before he could even try, let alone get to his own incredible news, she held out her hands. Bruce appeared from outside the display's field of view and solemnly placed a squirming bundle of fur into her arms, and she beamed as she cuddled it close. A tiny black nose snuffled enthusiastically across the silvery-haired woman's smiling face, and a little pink tongue lapped at her nose while a tiny black tail wagged frantically.

  “Oh,” Tycho said, momentarily thrown from his own incredible news. “You got a dog after all.”

  Callista's smile wavered, and she gave him an almost hurt look. “That's it? I thought you'd be as excited as I am about our new friend. A new playmate for Lady.”

  “I am. Of course I am, it's great.” He took a deep breath. “It's just that I just made the discovery of a lifetime, and I need to share it with you.”

  The silvery-haired woman stared at him for a few seconds. “I guess you'd better come over then,” she said, still sounding put out. She stroked the puppy's soft fur. “Her name is Princess, by the way. She's only the sweetest little thing you'll ever meet.”

  “I can't wait to, and I'm sure Lady can't either.” Tycho leaned forward, falling back into his own excitement. “But I'm telling you, Calli, this is huge. Just wait, you'll see.”

  Her lips thinned, and it was obvious she was disappointed with how the call had gone. “Then I look forward to seeing you soon.”

  He felt a bit bad for squashing her excitement, and had a feeling she thought he was trying to upstage her. Oh well, she'd understand once she'd listened to what he had to tell her.

  As soon as the face-to-face ended he rushed to his landing pad, where Pilot already had his starship ready, Eva only a few steps behind him. He started the ramp closing while she was still climbing it, and in fact was in such a hurry to share his news with Callista that for one of the few times in his life
he ordered the AI to take the faster rift hub route.

  “Somebody's sure in a rush to get his brain scrambled,” Pilot taunted. “That eager to go on more “adventures” with your new lady love?”

  “Shut up and fly,” Tycho snapped.

  He could almost visualize the AI's nonchalant shrug in his tone. “ETA one hour, forty-seven minutes, thirteen seconds.”

  As he started for his stateroom he felt Eva's hand on his shoulder. “Are you sure about this, my love?” she murmured. “No matter how important your news is I hate to see you suffering rift hub travel.”

  Tycho gave her a tight smile. “Plenty of people go through the hubs. It's unpleasant but not dangerous, just like you're always telling me.”

  “Yes, but you have a stronger reaction to it than most.”

  He blinked; he hadn't known that, and wondered if he'd wanted to. “What? Since when?”

  His companion hesitated. “Since you were born. A genetic abnormality that makes you extra sensitive to rift travel.”

  Wait, what? “Why didn't you tell me?” he demanded. “Why didn't any of my other companions, for that matter?” He glared at the stateroom's display. “Or you, Pilot?”

  The ship's AI answered before Eva could. “If you knew then you might've looked for ways to avoid the experience, like going into stasis during travel. That would've been no fun for me.”

  His companion made an exasperated noise. “It was judged nothing serious enough to be worth making you worry or harming your mental image of yourself.” Her hand on his shoulder squeezed gently. “But I'm still glad you decided on your own to avoid rift hub travel, knowing how traumatic it is for you. And I'm extra worried about you using a hub in this case since you're still under the effects of the neurostim. It will be far more . . . impactful.”

  Tycho grit his teeth at the prospect; he hadn't considered that, unfortunately. “Even so, this is the news of a lifetime. I don't want to waste time.”

  To his annoyance Eva still hesitated. “And the discomfort?”

  “I for one think you should totally go for it,” Pilot offered.

  Tycho threw himself across his bed, burying his face in the comforter. He spoke through it, voice muffled. “Just another thing to experience.”

  “If it means that much to you,” his companion said soothingly. Moments later she settled down alongside him and wrapped her arms and legs around his own limbs, more in restraint than in comfort. “Just focus on me and my voice,” she continued.

  Eva's warning wasn't an exaggeration: The initial rift jump to the hub made him feel like he was caught inside the event horizon of a black hole, mind being slowly pulled into a line as his perception of time slowed in an eternal instant of pure horror. He was barely aware of her voice speaking to him loudly and clearly, trying to reach him. Barely aware of thrashing against her hold, or the sharp taste of the anti-nausea solution she proactively sprayed into his mouth for what would otherwise be a violent reaction once he was through the rift.

  Then it was over. He gasped in relief and sagged into her embrace, feeling beads of sweat slipping down his forehead. “Any chance I'll pass out like I sometimes do?” he groaned.

  His companion gently blotted his face with a damp cloth. “With your system full of stims? I'm afraid not.”

  “I for one am loving this,” Pilot said brightly. “You should do it more often. I can't wait to see how the hub hits you.”

  “Oh, shut up!” Eva snapped, surprising Tycho; whatever his caretaker AIs' overarching purpose for his bizarre, antagonistic relationship with Pilot, his companions always ignored Pilot's snide remarks. They mostly ignored the ship's AI entirely, in fact, unless the conversation between the AI, Tycho, and the companion called for a response.

  This was the first time Eva had ever yelled at the ship's computer, or come to Tycho's defense against his taunts. He had to wonder if it was because he was worse off than usual, and about to be worse off still with the hub approaching.

  Not a pleasant thought.

  Even more surprisingly Pilot had nothing more to say. Tycho's companion held him for a few more minutes as he calmed down, then rolled him onto his stomach and began giving him a full body massage to loosen the muscles he'd tensed beyond the point of cramping during his brief jaunt outside of spacetime.

  She didn't countdown to when they'd reach the hub, didn't mention it at all, for which he was grateful. His only warning that his ordeal was about to begin again was when Eva began pinching various spots on his body, sharply enough to go beyond discomfort to actual pain. Which thanks to his hyperawareness with the neurostim was unexpectedly unpleasant.

  “We're approaching the rift hub now,” she said firmly as he yelped and tried to squirm out from underneath her. “Focus on the sensation, on me.” At that news he froze, closing his eyes and bracing himself. Seconds passed, then minutes, then-

  When the wolf had bitten his shoulder the pain had been slow to come, but when it had he'd thought his arm was being torn from his shoulder. Now it was like the wolf was biting his brain itself, grinding and tearing at it until even with the neurostim's effects he was no longer aware of his body, no longer aware of pain, only aware of the intense wrongness of being outside of spacetime with a mind chemically enhanced enough to be fully aware of that fact in a way he'd never been before.

  Spacetime wasn't just his natural habitat, wasn't just necessary for his survival. Spacetime was him. Only now it wasn't. And it wasn't for a relatively far longer interlude than it was during smaller rifts, a handful of instants rather than the blink of an eye. Infinite eternities stacked together in which universes were born, expanded, contracted back into themselves, or spread out into ultimate heat death.

  He didn't even realize when it ended, only dimly aware of sensation returning as his battered mind pieced itself back together. Somewhere a hypnotic drone gradually became Eva's voice, the sensations of his body returned to him, and he found himself sprawled in a damp patch on the bed that he couldn't even bring himself to care had come from loss of bladder control.

  Tycho lay limp, trying not to think, to feel, or even to exist. He was dimly aware of the damp patch disappearing as his companion ran a portable sonic field over him, of her further cleaning the residue off his clothes and the comforter.

  She brought him water, but gave up trying to get him to drink when he couldn't immediately figure out how his throat muscles worked and coughed it all up again. “Never again,” he croaked. “I don't care how important the news is.”

  “Yes, that was worse for you than I'd anticipated, even beyond what could be accounted for from the neurostim. I would never have allowed it if I'd realized.”

  “I don't care. Just slap me if I ever suggest this again.”

  “I'll do it if she won't,” Pilot chimed in. “I actually found myself feeling sorry for you on that jump, and that's a horrifying sensation.”

  The remainder of the trip went smoothly, all things considered. Compared to the hub the final rift jump was almost tolerable, and when it was finished Eva got to work getting him on his feet and presentable for his arrival at Callista's manor.

  Tycho would've thought nothing could ever make him pass up an opportunity to see Callista, but at the moment all he wanted was to order Eva to do a chemical reset of his brain. After she'd flushed the neurostim and its effects out he could then pass out unmoving for a week, even if his companion had to feed him through nutrient insertion to keep him healthy.

  But he forced himself to focus on his news of the newly discovered planet, building his enthusiasm for it back up. By the time they began their descent to the surface of Rykos 5 he was significantly improved, about to the state he was usually in after a normal rift jump.

  When his ship finally touched down and the ramp descended he was standing at the top, ready to stride down and greet the woman he was officially courting. The lighter gravity was almost a blessing, hiding the clumsiness of his wobbly legs and easing some of the burdensome weight of h
is body.

  Callista was waiting a short distance away holding Princess in her arms. She seemed insistent on introducing him to the puppy first thing in spite of whatever important news he was so eager to share, shoving the squirming bundle at him the moment he joined her at the bottom of the ramp.

  And in spite of everything it was hard not to fall in love with the furry little ball of affection as she licked eagerly at his face. Tycho remembered Laird and Lady as puppies, bigger and less furry but still just as adorable, and felt a brief pang for his fallen friend as he rubbed the velvety fur between Princess's ears.

  The minor distraction of the puppy might've turned into a half hour or more of playing with her and offering advice on her care based on his experience with his own dogs. But after just a few minutes, to Callista's mortification, Princess did as puppies would and had an accident all over him.

  “It's all right,” Tycho told her as he handed the little dog back. It wouldn't be the first time he'd endured the unpleasant sensation today. “Just point me to the nearest cleansing field. And get ready to see more of this kind of thing from your new pet until you've got her properly trained.”

  The silvery-haired woman wrinkled her nose at the pungent smell wafting from his wet shirt. “I suppose it's what I signed on for,” she agreed reluctantly as she guided him to the front doors of her manor, struggling to hold a squirming Princess in her arms as she went. “It's just that in all the romantic notions of owning a living animal, being covered in dog wee wee didn't exactly factor in.”

  “Bruce and Ion will be a great help there, believe me,” he assured her as he passed through the field she pointed him to, the sonic cleansers drying his shirt and whisking away the offending residue.

  “And you too, I hope,” Callista said. Then she became suddenly businesslike, handing her pet off to Bruce and motioning him towards her living area. “Come on, let's hear this big news of yours.”

  Tycho followed her in and settled into his usual place on the reclining chair she directed him to. As she plopped down on her favorite seat across from him he caught a hint of her perfume again.