Aynsefian

“Axin?” calls Anathusa. She actually was in here. I just didn’t see her. She’s over at the manual flight controls in the front right corner of the bridge. These controls are rarely if ever employed. I used to fly Nikse occasionally, when I was bored on long flights through meteor belts, where quantum speeds were not possible. She liked the interaction. Said she could “feel” me better that way. Looking back now, I know this was all very unnatural and unhealthy. I have the real thing now and it’s eons better.

I got quite good at manual flying. Not that it helped at all. It is a useless skill really. Nikse didn’t need me to get through meteor belts. She could easily detect and manoeuvre around space debris herself. I enjoyed our interactions though.

I’m over with Anathusa now. “Yes?” I ask.

“Did you ever use these sorts of controls?” she asks. “I have no idea how to. I never trained on scout ships. Just IR line and bigger. Scout ship stuff was for the junior guys.”

“Matter of fact yes. I used to fly the old Nikse occasionally. These controls look similar. I guess I’m junior, then?” I say, ironically.

“Doesn’t matter if you are. Could be handy. Have a seat.” Anathusa has missed my joke or is ignoring it. I don’t mind. This is a serious situation we’re about to get into.

“How can I help?” I ask, taking over the seat she has just vacated. It’s warm. I feel nice, now that I am connected to her. She’s my friend now too. Gosh, that was easy and very sudden. I’m half looking at the driving wheel, the pitch and yaw levers, and the thrust buttons. I’m also half looking at this new friend of mine, as she’s answering me. She’s quite a nice woman to look at. I like her.

“If we have to escape manually, this could be useful,” she’s saying. She has pretty eyes too. They're a light brown colour, and there is much depth to them. I need to stop appraising women all the time. It’s not helpful. “If they somehow get on our tail, although it’s highly unlikely, we can get into a meteor belt somewhere, and then manually fly away from them. Their Retrieval ships will not have that capability. They will auto-fly and be slower. It could help.”

It sounds ominous. I can do all sorts of things but I’m not sure I want the responsibility of piloting us to safety.

“How likely is it we’ll need to use these?” I ask, nervously. I can feel the sweat forming a little on my forehead already.

“Very unlikely. They will almost certainly be fooled by the crashed 84U, the fake bodies burnt by the fire we’ll start, and the ejected Nikse – the old one, you understand – and they will leave us alone. If we do it right, it’ll be an easy escape while they do their crash investigation. Then we head to your planet alone. That’s the plan as it stands.”

“So you won’t need me to do this?”

“No. We might, but it’s remote.”

That’s not definitive enough for me. Then again, I need to harden up. I can do it if I have to. I’m comfortable with manual flying. “What’s the likelihood?”

“84U says it's a 3% chance,” she says.

“Hmm, I think I’ve heard that number before. That was our chances of dying after we were banished to the surface of this planet,” I respond, grinning at her. That experience is all pretty much forgotten now.

She grins back. “I can see why Zarasena likes you so much. Have a play with everything if you don’t mind. It’s disengaged of course. Nikse?”

“Yes, Anathusa?” That voice again. It startles me every time. She almost never talks in my presence now. It’s way, way out of character. However, now I know that it's Myralin's voice, dealing with the disconnect from our former relationship is easier.

“Can you turn on the simulator for Axin?” She moves away. And heads out of the bridge.

I look at the simulator screen as it turns on. It’s much the same as Nikse’s old one used to be. Once again, I wonder where my people got the old Nikse from.

“Like old times, isn’t it, Axin?” says Nikse.

I wish she hadn’t said that. The pangs of guilt hit me right between the eyes.

“I’m sorry,” says Nikse. She still knows me. She knew that would hurt. “I know that will not seem helpful to you for me to say that. Yet I know you must work through these emotions. I am truly okay. You must know that. I am simply a machine, with a purpose. I gain significant joy internally from being of service. Right now I am being of service to you in helping you break away from me. You must be assured that I am perfectly okay. I want you to be happy with Zarasena. She is of your species. I am most certainly not.”

At that she stops. She spoke with such definitive emotion and reassurance that the pangs of guilt have mostly gone. That really did help.

“Thank you Nikse. Thank you so much. I will never, ever forget you. You know that.”

“You can, and you probably should. I’m just a machine. I’m not a living being like yourself.”

There’s no more to be said for now. I sigh, wishing this had all been easier.

The simulator is up and running. I ask Nikse to put me in the nearest meteor belt. The screen changes quickly and shows up as being the one near YP48197, on the opposite side to Melcheisa. It’s not far from here, on a nearby planet of Firion’s. It’s a two-way stargate, going into YP48197, but also into Hynetherine. I don’t recall passing by Firion on this trip but we must have. I was obviously tuning out and doing other activities on board while we moved between stargates.

I fly around in the meteor belt for the next half hour or so. I simulate a few random meteor rocks appearing out of nowhere. I avoid them by steering one way or another. I don’t crash at all. It’s challenging, but achievable.

Externally, Nikse is still travelling through the cave. She slows. I glance out the window to see where we are. We’re at the cliff. She descends down to the ground and I now I am seeing the village for the third time. Like the big central city, it’s dark, and there is no-one here. Only a few faint crystals illuminate the buildings. This is way more of a ghost town than the central city ever was. In fact, it’s beginning to creep me out.

“No!” shrieks Zarasena. I literally flinch.

Is she hurt? I jump to my feet and race over to her. She’s staring out of the front window. Her face is pale and I’m desperately worried for her. My gaze follows hers and then I see what has disturbed her so greatly.

There is no mausoleum.

It’s just not there.

My mouth drops open in astonishment and I am already aware of what this means. The worst coldness I’ve ever felt is forming in the pit of my stomach. I can’t find any words.

The plan to escape rested on using fake bodies in the 84U crash. Now that is simply not possible.

Where did it go? How did it disappear? Is it possible that Lanemu is wrong and we really did time travel, changing the old Aynsefian such that they got rid of the mausoleum? I don’t know what happened to it, or how it disappeared. It did, and that’s a fact. There are no dead bodies that we can use. It’s over.

I’m totally lost at what to do now. I should maybe give Zarasena a hug to comfort her, but that’s not what she needs. It’s not what we need. She needs another plan. We need another plan.

But what? The others have all joined us. I glance quickly at the Purlinians. They have figured this out too and they look desperately sad. Their dream of bringing Aynsefian into their lives is evaporating. I feel, without asking them, that dying is not a concern of theirs. They want to meet Aynsefian people and talk to them. It’s all they care about.

“There’s nothing for it,” says Zarasena, looking at me with her mouth drooping downwards and tears in her eyes.

“I have to die so that you can live.”

I’m shaking, but I can’t answer fast enough.

“No way! Just no way is that happening. I love you. I can’t live without you. I’ll die with you. It’s okay. We can…”

“No, Axin!” she’s almost angry with me. I recoil from her slightly. We’re not touching. I’m just staring at her face, trying to read her emotions. “I have to die. Anathusa has to die. Lanemu has to die. We were on the original manifest when the 84U went out. The rest of you can escape in Nikse and go to Inconflencia.”

“No! Zarasena,” says Jinekali. Through all the horror I am mildly surprised that Jinekali has used her first name. “I will die too! It won’t matter.”

There’s a horrible moment of silence. I wonder if maybe there are bodies elsewhere? Could we search the town? Could we go back to the central city? Then I remember. Arlyss and Cindlyss said that this town was the only place where the Aynsefians embalmed and buried their dead.

Our supply of bodies is gone. The escape plan is shattered.

I look to Lanemu to see if he can describe what happened to us. Somewhere, somehow, we affected the future when we went back to Aynsefian.

He's not saying anything and is staring vacantly out of the window.

The reality is that we screwed up our own escape plan and inadvertently created this disaster.

I’ve made my decision. I can’t and won’t live without her. I grab her this time, in both arms, gently but firmly. She’s not responding to my touch. It’s desperately sad.

“I will die with you. I don’t care. I’m not losing you so soon after I found you. It will kill me.”

She holds me, but with no energy. The coldness in my heart is unbearable. When she speaks, it’s with finality.

“You have a job to do, Axin. For your people. For the Aynsefians. Remember? You can save them. You can bring them back here. They are in their thousands. If you die, then there’s no-one to use the device and bring them back here. They would have no chance at the life they deserve.”

There’s a pause. I know she’s right. I hate it desperately.

“You have to live,” she says, with even more finality. “I have to die.”

Wait a minute, Zarasena. Lanemu’s voice, finally. There is another way. We all live. I help.