Neptune Crossing (The Chaos Chronicles) (40 page)

He squinted, thinking—if that damn translator hides itself, they'll never believe me. He took another raspy breath. "I just want to be clear. It is through that alien...presence... part of which is still with me here...that I learned of the comet which is on a collision course with Earth. I am on my way to intercept it."

/// Perhaps if you tell them where you are... ///

/Huh? Why?/

/// Could you have gotten here yourself? ///

/Oh./ Bandicut cleared his throat. "My present position—" He leaned to check the nav and read off the numbers. He was almost halfway across the distance between Neptune's orbit and Uranus's. "You understand that I could not possibly have traveled this distance using only the fusion drive. If you doubt that I am using a nonhuman technology—" He hesitated. "Oh, Christ, just
believe
me!" He rocked back in his seat, growling helplessly to himself.

/// It's not an easy thing to convey. ///

/I had this all worked out in my head! I should have recorded it!/

He sighed and continued: "Please convey the following to Julie Stone, exoarch department, Triton Surface: 'Julie, I'm sorry I couldn't have told you sooner. If you find the artifact, you will know that everything I told you is true. If you don't find it, keep looking. It is capable of...hiding. And
please
believe me. I don't know what else I can say. You probably all saw me vanish into space like some kind of goddamn holo effect. Maybe you all thought I was dead. Well, I'm not—yet, anyway. I will return—if I can—after Earth is...safe. I...I lo-, I miss you.'" He hesitated, trying to swallow back the lump in his throat. "Unquote," he muttered. After a moment he added, "Just for the record, Julie Stone had nothing whatever to do with this. She didn't know."

He paused again. "Oh, and Julie, could you please pass on everything I've told you to my niece, Dakota Bandicut, in Iowa City? Tell her...that I am not a criminal, and that I miss her, too. Thanks." He pondered saying more, and finally croaked, "End transmission."

Something was tingling in the back of his mind, the quarx's reaction to something he had said. Even without hearing it, he felt his stomach knotting tighter. /What?/ he muttered.

/// Well...

I just want to be honest with you. ///

He waited, words frozen in his throat, in his mind.

The quarx stirred, and he thought he sensed guilt.

/// I don't really think...

that there's any chance you'll ever return.

I wish...I could say differently.

But I can't. ///

Bandicut closed his eyes, hard. He couldn't speak. This was hardly news to him. Except, there had always been a tiny grain of hope remaining.

/// It's not as if I told you otherwise.

Did I? ///

/No,/ he whispered. /I don't know. I don't remember./ He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut harder, but he couldn't keep the tears from leaking out.

Finally he gave up, wiped his eyes, and got back to work.

*

Napoleon had no difficulty changing the placement of the stone. Bandicut watched in the monitor as the robot emerged from one exhaust bell, glowing ball in its grip, and disappeared into another. It came back out empty-handed, and a moment later, Bandicut felt a momentary dizziness, which he assumed was the stone expanding its field to encompass the ship again. As soon as Napoleon was back aboard ship, Charlie suggested that they resume threading flight at once.

/I want to wait and see if we get a reply from Triton,/ Bandicut insisted. He was feeling morose, but also stubborn. The quarx reluctantly agreed to wait another hour.

Fifty-one minutes later, the comm picked up a signal. Bandicut strained to hear. It was a voice signal, but faint with static, as though improperly aimed. "...EXPLORER...CANNOT CONFIRM YOUR POSITION. PLEASE SAY AGAIN. IF YOU CANNOT RETURN...STABILIZE YOUR ORBIT...ATTEMPT TO ASSIST. WE DO NOT UNDERSTAND, BUT...GAME...OVER..."

Bandicut stared at the comm panel in disbelief. The message continued, repeating itself over and over. Was it possible they didn't believe him—even after the way he'd departed? He swallowed, knowing that it was all too possible. Even if Julie and exoarch believed him...he could just imagine the rulers of MINEXFO trying to wrap their small minds around something like this.

/// I'm sorry.

But I'm honestly not surprised.

Shall we continue? ///

He shook his head, his vision blurred. /Just a minute./ He cleared his throat to transmit, and squeezed the switch. "Triton Orbital,
Neptune Explorer
. This might be the last transmission I can make. I'm about to accelerate again—
threading space
, they call it. So listen to me, and listen good. Are you listening?" He took a breath, then shouted, "YOU DUMB MOKIN'
GOAKS!
PUT A MOKIN'
TELESCOPE
ON THE MOKIN' COORDINATES I JUST GAVE YOU! IF YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME, BELIEVE YOUR MOKIN' EYES! BANDICUT OUT!" He gasped with anger as he punched the comm off.

/// Well said, John...I think. ///

/Charlie, punch it. Let's get moving,/ he said wearily. /And give 'em a good light show, okay?/

As the fusion chamber ignited, he felt a gentle push of returning gravity. And in the rear monitor, he saw an eruption of concentric rings of light and color behind them, as
Neptune Explorer
threaded space inward toward the sun.

Chapter 29

Lonely Crossing

Bandicut's anger did not diminish, and it was only a matter of time before he turned it inward, upon the quarx. /You weren't exactly honest with me, were you, you bastard?/ he said, after stewing in silence for a while.

/// What...do you mean? ///

The quarx's voice sounded weak. Defensive?

/You said there was a fifty-fifty chance we'd come out of this alive. Now, you tell me we're goners. You care to explain that?/ It had taken a little while for it to sink in, that the quarx was changing his tune, now that they were under way and it was too late to turn back.

/// No, I said...well, I mean... ///

/You just said—/

/// —that we won't return to Triton.

But I... ///

Charlie's voice was quivering. He seemed to be straining for words.

/// I never said we would return, John. ///

/Fifty-percent chance! That's what you said./

/// I didn't mean, to return!

I meant...to survive, in some form. ///

Bandicut squinted out the window, imagining a great orrery of planets encircling the sun. /In some form?/ His mood was not improving. /You implied that we might be rescued. Now you're saying, what? We'll survive, but we won't be rescued?/

/// Not by...your people...no. ///

His heart skipped a beat. /What the hell are we talking about, then—the goddamn afterlife? Is this some kind of goddamn theological prediction?/

/// No, no!

I meant survival.

But I have to admit, the chances might be

less than I predicted before. ///

The quarx's voice was definitely trembling.

/// I think I was...optimistic, before. ///

Bandicut caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window. His face was contorted with fear. /
Charlie?
Where the hell will we be—if we're not dead?/

Charlie's voice dropped to near-inaudibility.

/// I can't...say for sure.

But it will be a journey.

Possibly a most magnificent journey... ///

Bandicut's breath caught, and he sat staring at his own terrified reflection in the maneuvering window, thinking about Charlie's journey of millions of years that had brought him here to the solar system. And he suddenly knew that the quarx was not talking about a journey to the other side of the sun. The quarx came from beyond the stars, and that was where he intended to return.

Charlie was quiet for a few moments.

/// Not home, if that's what you're thinking.

That I cannot do.

But...beyond the stars...yes. ///

Bandicut swallowed. /Then where—?/

/// Well, that's the thing.

I really can't say.

But, John—?

Looking at our present situation,

the chances are probably more like ninety percent

that we'll die,

and that will be the end of it. ///

Bandicut stared blankly for a moment. /WHY THE MOKIN' HELL DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THAT BEFORE?/ he thundered.

/// I was...afraid you wouldn't agree. ///

/You were afraid—/ Bandicut felt his breath go out. /You mean, you...
lied
to me? You flat-out lied?/

/// Well, I...weighted some uncertain odds.

I guess, in that, I misled you.

I'm sorry. ///

 /Thanks, asshole./

/// I said, I'm sorry.

It really would be better, John,

if you just went into the final phase of our mission

expecting to die. ///

Bandicut bit back a sarcastic reply. /Well, you haven't answered my question. If we don't die, where do we go? Alpha Centauri? Sirius? Where? Don't I have a right to know that much?/

/// John, I really don't know. ///

/How can you NOT KNOW?/ Bandicut yelled, his emotions sliding completely out of control.

There was no answer.

/CHARLIE?/

After a moment, the trembling quarx whispered,

/// John, didn't you understand from the beginning

that you were giving your life to this?

That nothing would ever be the same again? ///

/Are you crazy?/ Bandicut pounded the console savagely. Maybe the quarx had made it clear enough
then
, but that didn't help him accept it now.

From the quarx, there was silence. Charlie had shut himself off, and retreated into some private purgatory of his own.

*

In the absence of the quarx's voice, Bandicut found himself starkly alone and at a loss for purpose, drifting toward, but not quite into, silence-fugue. He watched the instruments and the stars, and did little more for the rest of the ship-day than tap the armrests on his seat and listen to the vague choir of fugue-voices tuning up for action, just beyond the edges of his consciousness.

Eventually, drawn by hunger, he drifted out of his borderline state and went to prepare a grim, lonely dinner. He mouthed some tasteless soyloaf, thinking about all he had left behind, even his duffel bag with all of his photos, books, memories...

/// You still have your memories.

Those other things were only possessions. ///

He grunted. /You're back, huh?/ The quarx might have been right, but he very badly wished he had those possessions. He thought he might find them comforting, at the end. To say nothing of the people he would have like to see.

And that thought was enough to send him skidding over into real fugue...

*

Dakota's voice made him turn. "Uncle John?" Her green eyes were welling with tears as she prepared to board the train with her grandparents, after the heartbreaking funeral. "When you're back on Earth, will you still come see me?" She glanced at her grandmother, beckoning from the train portal. His heart ached as he chucked her under the jaw. He felt like a hopelessly awkward uncle, and wished he could somehow find a way to show his niece how much he cared. "'Course I will, kiddo," he murmured. "And I expect you to come visit me in space, when you're a little older. Deal?" Deal, she whispered.

He saw her just twice after that, before shipping out to Triton. But he set up the trust fund before he left, in a sudden impulse that in retrospect seemed almost prescient.

"I know what you're going through," Julie murmured, leaning to kiss his cheek. "I'll find Dakota and explain everything to her, don't worry. And I'll wait for you right here, for as long as it takes you to come back. I love you, John—"

/// Your act must be its own reward, ///

Charlie said, breaking through the soft borders of the fugue-dream.

Bandicut started. /Platitudes, Charlie. Tell me—will anyone believe that I really did this? Will they even see the comet go kaboom? Will there be
any
evidence?/

/// Depends on their willingness

to believe what they see.

Maybe they'll see the flash. ///

Bandicut grunted. He suspected that the quarx had not even the slightest expectation that his act would be recognized even if it were seen. /I always thought,/ he muttered, /that when people died heroes, they at least got a little credit for it./

The quarx didn't answer. In the silence, Bandicut drifted back into his own dreamy fugue.

*

The sun grew steadily as the days passed. They were plummeting inward in a steep, S-shaped trajectory, aiming to loop around the sun in the direction opposite to the movement of the planets. On day twenty, they swept through Saturn's orbit and inward toward Jupiter's and Mars's. Not that they would be stopping off, or even able to
see
those planets, other than as remote telescopic images, since the orbits were merely abstract tracings on the nav-screens and the planets themselves were elsewhere in their great elliptical tracks around the sun. Nevertheless, Bandicut imagined conversations with the outposts on and around those worlds, imagined stopping off to have a beer on Ganymede or Phobos, before continuing his mission...imagined Julie at his side...

Their velocity extrinsic to the threading environment was quite impressive now, close to a tenth of lightspeed. It would, Charlie acknowledged, make for a pretty good bang when they hit the comet. It gave him greater hope—if not of survival, at least that their collision would be seen.