Beyond (28 page)

With no more regard for Salvan, Zak turned and muttered, “Come on. We have more important places to be.”

***

They entered the main laboratory, a giant vaulted structure packed with industrious scientists huddled over exotic instruments that looked capable of performing anything from
neurosurgery
to deep sea diving. Raja leaned over, her pale brown hair cascading in front of her shoulders. She sensed their approach and glanced up. She wore safety glasses, and inside those lenses Aimee witnessed a
kaleidoscope of whirling particles. Cells, perhaps?
Chromosomes?
The goggles were like a microscope strapped to Raja’s face.

Raja lifted the goggles atop her head and beamed. She pinned her shoulders back to show off the front of her suit. It was a heavenly shade of silver from head to toe.

“Raja!”

Raja, who normally looked so pretty and reserved, now stood with the goggles on top of her head, looking like a frog. The straps caught in her hair and the static made the fine strands spike out around her head.

"Aimee—" She stepped up and grabbed Aimee's arms, squeezing them. "I was the first trial. There was no time to go through the proper channels. What was the worst that was going to happen? My fate was already sealed." She drew in a deep breath. "But the effect was instantaneous. The damaged cells were repaired within seconds of the injection."

Raja shook her head in wonder, and then looked at Zak. "There is a material in Aimee's saliva that we've been able to tap into. We produced enough serum to disperse in the Jay-nine. If they report back what we are expecting to hear, the remainder of the ship will be given a dose, and we will be able to manufacture the serum synthetically now."

Zak crossed his arms. His face expressed cautious enthusiasm.

"And Aimee?
All you require from her is that small sample given in the vial? You won't be searching for a way to get inside her?"

Raja's lips thinned. "Not all scientists are like Salvan. As best we can determine, the anti-oxidant stems from something that Aimee ate once—or repeatedly—to the point that it has worked its way into her glands."

"Wouldn't it be easier to determine if you were to slice me open?" Aimee's voice wavered. She wasn't really suggesting it, but she wanted to hear Raja refute the offer.

The zeal in Raja's glance waned. She offered a discreet smile. "No, Aimee. We are not going to
dissect
you. You will be able to help us voluntarily if you choose, and it will in no way be invasive." She paused. "If Vodu recovers from this disease...if we didn't reach him too late, he will dole out Salvan's punishment. If it
is
too late," she flicked her gaze towards Zak, "
you
will determine his fate."

Zak didn't say anything. He glanced at Aimee and his gaze lingered on the singed material beneath her ribs. He took a deep breath and declared, "Let's all hope Vodu lives, then."

***

The wait was not long. Reports were coming back via JOH that all the cases of administered serum in the Jay-nine had repaired the damaged cells, and the disease was completely eradicated. Very shortly thereafter, Vodu himself appeared in one of the
windows
along the wall. He looked tired, but his skin bore a healthy pigment and his eyes were as vibrant and commanding as ever.

"Aimee," he began. "I cannot apologize enough for the acts of Salvan. If we had lost you—" He shook his head to negate the thought. "But his mistake in taking you from your planet,
be
it intentional or not, has saved our race. Our gratitude cannot be measured. I am on my way back to the deck now—" he glanced off the right of the screen and Chara's face joined him. Her hair was lustrous, her skin flushed, and her violet eyes could seduce a monk.

"Zak, I would like you to meet me there," Vodu continued. "I have checked our coordinates." He looked directly at Aimee as he added, "We have less than half a rotation until we reach your solar system. Our greatest gift that we can offer is to return you to your home."

Aimee's eyes locked with Zak's. She could no longer hear Vodu or the metallic clangs of the scientists at work. She was only aware of a buzzing inside her ears, the sound you heard right before you were going to faint. But she wasn't going to faint. Fainting would mean she would lose that connection with Zak. His gaze harbored shadows of pain, resolve, and some unnamed emotion. It was that elusive facet that she held onto. She wanted to cry out,
say something, Zak. Say you don't want me to go
.

"Zak," Vodu called, "the deck."

Zak blinked. He stood erect and nodded at Vodu. "I'm on my way."

Vodu and Chara disappeared. Zak looked at Aimee. He didn't speak, but it was as if she was aware of his heart pounding. It beat as heavy and solemn as hers.

Raja cast a discreet glance between them and murmured something about needing to get back to work. She bowed and retreated. Even JOH spun around and trailed after her.

Still, nothing was said. A few scarce feet
separated
them, but Aimee was wholly aware of him. She could feel the weight of his thoughts bearing down on her. She wanted to go to him—to feel his arms around her and hear him murmur words that would assure her that everything was going to be alright. But he stood resigned.

"I have to go," he whispered.

Aimee nodded. "I know."

She cursed the tears that worked their way behind her eyes. Why was she crying? She would see him again.
Probably within the hour.
After his meeting with Vodu.

"Aimee—"

That was why she was crying. It was that hoarse tone of finality with which he said her name. The tears started to fall unchecked now until his face blurred before her.

"Don't." She heard him say. And still he did not touch her.

"Aimee."
His husky call came again, but she just shook her head and stepped back.
One pace.
Two.

Distance.
She needed distance before she lost it.

Aimee sat on the ledge of the pool inside her room. Her finger traced a pattern in the water as she watched the ripples tickle the border on the far side. She had donned a new suit and now sat facing the window. Space provided a stark black curtain mottled with brilliant fragments, like floating shards of glass.

JOH was nearby with his mouth clamped shut. He looked impatient, but he knew enough not to speak to her now. Still, he practically vibrated with the need to do so.

Aimee stood up and approached the celestial vista. She squinted at the pulsing orbs in the distance. Was one of them Earth?
A half-rotation
.
How long was that? Time was so undefined here. Nearly five years had passed since she walked behind that pond. She was almost twenty-three-years-old. Her body might reflect that, but her mind felt much older.
Much wiser.
And such enlightenment pained her.

She placed her palm flat on the glass. It was not cold to the touch.

Staring at her hand on that clear plane, she noticed how pale it was. They were all so pale on the Horus and now she had become one of them. Zak was not pale. It was not that he was a bronzed California lifeguard, but his skin was the tone of a man who had lived in the sun. How did he retain that?

What did it matter? She was going home.

JOH bobbed beside her as if he was riding the Bonsai Pipeline. She tapped his screen and his eyes slid in her direction.

“You know you don’t have to hit me like that,” he challenged, sounding miffed. “You can just say my name.”

“Well, why the heck didn’t you tell me that long ago?”

“You didn’t ask.”

Aimee shook her head. “Why did I expect that answer?”

“Because you predicted that I—”

“Bah, it was a rhetorical question.
Stop!”

JOH clamped his mouth shut…for a minute. “You seem depressed, Aimee. I thought you would be happy to be returning to your parents.”

“Now you
psychoanalyze as well? What kind of computer are you, anyway?”

“Stop calling me a computer. I cannot adequately translate what the symbols J.O.H. represent, but I am an integrated forecaster majoring in dialect, historical, and informational storage. My reference base scopes the majority of the universe. I am the communications host of this fine ship. I use genetics for identification, although I accept that I recently erred with that attribute. You can be assured that I am restructuring that identity practice as we speak. I am capable of operating most every synthetic function on the Horus with the exception of some rudimentary culinary tasks."

"You don't cook? Do you do windows?"

"Which windows, the ones we use to view the events of the ship or the exterior plated alorium panels?"

Aimee sighed.
"Alright, JOH.
I won't call you a computer anymore."

His frown morphed into a smile.

"But you'd be a little more credible if you had legs," she added.

His black eyebrows crisscrossed. "Nothing more than
mecaw
inconveniences those limbs are."

"JOH, how much time do I have?" She paused. "How much time before we reach my solar system?"

"A little less than half a rotation of the Alphi universe.
The Alphi universe moves like what you would call a cyclone. So that would be the equivalent of—" his eyes flat-lined, "maybe a quarter of your
years
."

90-some days in a universe that moved as fast as a tornado.
She had already begun to formulate her own time-translation during her spell on the Horus. 90 Earth days was something like a week on the Horus. One week and she would be
back
home.

She had been gone for five years.

Had her parents changed? Would they accept that she had changed?

"JOH, I'm going to go take a walk."

He glided towards the door and waited like a puppy with his tail wagging.

"Alone."

If he had a tail, it just stopped wagging.

***

Aimee traveled the corridors of the Horus with confidence. What had initially been an intimidating, sterile world was now vibrant with color and activity as she peered through the
diaphanous
walls, sometimes seeing three chambers
deep. The murals were what fascinated her the most, though. Today she slowed her pace. At least it was some modicum of speed that she had control over.

She studied the images of life on Anthum. As best she could relate, they looked like works of art from ancient Greece.
The buildings.
The gardens.
All the women had long, shimmering hair. Some wore flowing gowns, and some the traditional bodysuits. Men were adorned in outfits similar to the ones they wore on the Horus. Their bodies were bigger though.
Stronger.
And the murals depicted them in various states of construction. One graphic looked like a group at work on the Horus itself. The mural scaled the length of the corridor as she stepped back to take it all in. Platforms were stacked as high as the eye could see, and each platform was loaded with men and woman toiling over the exterior of the ship. Both sexes worked in tandem to lift and haul. There seemed no
delineation
between genders when it came to labor tasks, but there was a very obvious contradiction in physical forms.

Aimee slipped into a lateral transport and tapped the blue crystal on the console. The outside panel dropped open.

Alorium
.
She should have asked JOH more about alorium. She bet she would pass engineering school with flying colors if she knew the composition of the material her planet referred to as glass.

The transporter slid to a stop and she stepped out, glancing in each direction. The corridors were no longer vacant. Groups in animated conversation traveled down the hall, their faces lit up with smiles and no traces of red to be found on their bodies. One woman noticed Aimee and broke away from her friends. She had vivid green eyes and strawberry blond hair, and a healthy blush to her cheeks. She stood before Aimee and wrung her hands nervously. "They tell me that you are the one. You are the one who saved us."

Aimee's face turned pink. She had done nothing. She had spit in a cup.

At a loss for words she was saved when the woman flung her arms around Aimee's neck and gave her a warm hug.

"Thank you," the woman gushed.

"I didn't do anything," Aimee fumbled, but the woman had already let go and jogged back to join her friends. They continued down the hall. For a moment Aimee was alone.

With a weary sigh, she glanced up at the wall and recognized the symbol she was looking for.

***

The door slipped shut behind her. She was swathed in the peaceful stillness of the forest.
Silence.
Even the wildlife sensed her despair and remained respectfully mute. For the most part it was like standing inside a fertile
vacuum, and yet this represented her sanctuary.
A place to connect with her home.