Remember the Starfighter (35 page)
Read Remember the Starfighter Online
Authors: Michael Kan
The Au-O’sanah — an alien name, for an alien ship. It was still hard to believe the vessel was alive. Not only that, but a child, according to the specialist. Only over a decade old on from what he had been told, practically a teenager.
Julian didn’t know what any of that really meant. Much of the ship was still a mystery to him, the way it worked an almost indecipherable mixture of biology and machine. He walked the porcelain hallways, no longer surprised by its congealing walls, the strange echoes, or the way the doors opened like a gestating organ. At least, he could say it all had become a little more familiar to him. The purr of the ship’s confines had oddly become comforting.
But as he approached his quarters, Julian spotted the figure standing in the hallway. For a second, it seemed to be a woman, standing alone, like she was waiting for him. Clothed in a black tunic, she raised her hand in the sign of hello. Julian cautiously waved back, thinking that maybe Alysdeon had recruited another human crew member on board. Yet for a brief moment, he thought he recognized her — the auburn hair long and let loose, the face smiling in nearly the same way.
“Are you...?” he asked, ready to say the name.
But no. This was different. Walking closer, Julian saw that the figure was less a woman, but more like a child. Maybe 13 or 14 years old, her stature surprisingly tall, but the face so young and so delicate, the hands still small.
Like Alysdeon, she did not speak, but could fully communicate, its soft, but familiar voice, tip-toeing into Julian’s mind.
She waved again, but more shyly, the smile on her lips hoping for the right response. “I think so,” Julian said slowly. “You are the ship, am I right?”
She grinned, delighted that he knew.
“Is this all in my mind?” he asked. The child nodded, her presence a trick of telepathy.
“Well I don’t know about that. I...”
As imaginary the child was, Julian felt he saw flesh. Her face suddenly turned glum, her mouth on the verge of opening in disappointment.
Julian quickly corrected himself. “No, I mean. I’m happy to teach you anything, but I don’t know how much help I’ll be.”
The child was confused. It was odd for it to speak to someone who was so clearly undecided, and hesitant. Julian was saying one thing, but he was thinking something else. The ship wondered what was wrong.
Julian did not know what to say. What was the proper etiquette?
“It’s complicated,” he replied. “I don’t know... I hope I’m not sad. I don’t mean to be.”
It felt like a fumbled response to a simple and yet large question. Julian shut his eyes, embarrassed at his complete flop. Would the ship even understand?
The Au-O’sanah sensed it all, the child concerned. It had taken this form to be likable, not to bemuse. But more importantly, to try and connect. It had watched Julian before, and knew he had grown attached to someone. The ship looked for any signs of it again, finding the memory not far within his psyche.
She then happily ran off like a human child, unaware of the complexities of adult interactions. Eventually, she disappeared out of the hallway, her innocent laugh still ringing in Julian’s head.
He fell on one knee, his hands shaking uncontrollably. Julian knew the ship meant no harm. But he had felt the vessel reach in further, psychologically pulling at his mind. The ship had touched something, the strands of which, felt like regret.
“Nalia,” Julian said, blowing the air out from his cheeks. “I...”
Eventually, Julian gathered himself, unsure what to feel, only to later think that maybe it was a reminder. He then walked on, and entered into his designated quarters, the ship welcoming him with another giggle inside his mind.
Perhaps it was only fitting. After all this time, the alien vessel, Au-O’sanah, was also becoming familiar with him. It wanted to be his friend.
Date: June 1, 4891
Advanced time: 12109 day 163
Just save yourself.
Arendi’s consciousness felt the words, the phrase passing through her mind like an echo. She wanted to gasp for air, her consciousness jolting back into existence. The errors, there had been so many — the pain so excruciating. She had wanted to die.
Save yourself Julian.
Arendi had been on the station, her feet nearly dragging on the floor. She was about to fall, and give into the damage, the pain simply too much to bear. But the captain had held on, raising her with all his strength, and pulling on the armor to move in each step. She could feel the force from his hands, the captain’s breath next to her cheek.
It’s over for me.
Arendi had read the diagnostic. It was clear: the systems inside could not recover, not when the energy she carried was on the verge of total collapse. She had pushed it to the limit, and paid in full. The point of no return, their pursuers likely drawing near.
Just save yourself,
she had said.
Save yourself Julian.
But it was not over for Arendi. She had regained consciousness. Yet there was no light. No image at all. Only the emptiness. The unending darkness.
She did not know why. All she could remember was the system failure, her mind teetering on oblivion.
How long had she been out? Where was she? What had happened?
Arendi could access none of her systems, the network of intricate machinery detached and maybe even gone. There was only the shroud of black, punctuated by a total silence.
Julian,
she said, with not even an echo coming back.
Are you there?
No. There was nothing. Not a sound.
Arendi was alone.
Date: June 2
“Hey, her eyes, they’re open!”
They were the first words she could actually hear, the voice alert, even excited. In her vision, she could see him, the captain hurrying over.
“Arendi, are you there?”
He smiled in relief, and naturally she wanted to respond.
Yes,
she was ready to say.
I’m here
. But the words never came. Arendi could not speak, the commands staggering, the bodily algorithms failing to generate.
Yes, I’m here
, she insisted
.
The command still failed, stunted by an error in the artificial synapses. She wanted to move. Lift her hand. Raise her feet. Pretend to breathe. But the failures persisted, the body inert. She could not even blink.
The captain was only inches away from her face, looking down at her. He waved her hand in front of her eyes, hoping to elicit a response.
“Arendi, can you see me?”
She ordered a diagnostic, and yet only silence came. Arendi tried accessing any available system, and still it was the same, the data flow not only empty, but nonexistent.
“Can we communicate, maybe through her link? The last time... It was through her onboard comm-system.”
He was talking to someone nearby, the shadow moving in the edges of her vision. She could hear the footsteps, and even feel the air move. However, there was no reply, only the captain in her sight, shaking his head.
“Is she even active?”
He peered down at her again, the excitement in his eyes slipping away.
I’m here
, she said.
I’m here!
Arendi yearned to speak. Make a signal somehow. But the sight of Julian’s face held still, the response the same.
The captain reached out. Suddenly, she felt the touch, the brush of the hand lasting only a second. Arendi glimpsed it, the thumb gently stroking her face.
“We’ll figure this out,” he said solemnly. “We have to.”
He then left, disappearing from view.
Date: June 4
The tall woman stared down at her, but said nothing. She only smiled, as an automated robotic arm went to work, the metal fingers stuttering down at Arendi’s body, trying to repair the damage that had been done.
The woman had remained speechless since the day Arendi had awoke, entering and leaving her vision, but always seemingly close by. She was, in fact, no stranger. Weeks ago, Arendi had met the woman, albeit only briefly on Alliance Command.
Specialist Alysdeo
n, she recalled,
the New Terran operative
.
Arendi looked at her now, and saw the white and gold implants run down her sabled cheeks. Apparently, the woman was telepathic, a trait commonplace among her kind. She wished that could apply now. The things Arendi wished to say, only to be trapped inside her crippled body. Never before had she so badly wanted to speak. Admittedly, she was losing patience.
“Any change?” he asked.
Julian had returned. From where, she did not know. He would always speak, but the specialist would never reply. At least, not vocally. It was frustrating. To observe only scraps of information, the context lost. They were so close to her, and yet Arendi could do nothing but watch.
“How many more days?”
“But why can’t she move?”
“What about re-routing the nodes, or even the power source?”
“Does Faraday even know what he’s doing?”
She heard Julian pace across the room, and ask his questions in frustration. Arendi could only imagine the replies, but it seemed evident the answers were lacking.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t talk,” he said. “No...this is my fault.”
She could see him, standing over her. He was dressed in a charcoal jacket, his hands fitted inside brown gloves. He took them off, and threw them in his pocket, his face visibly distressed.
“SpaceCore, we should have never gone there,” he went on. “Even if she awakes, I don’t think she’ll trust me. Why would she?”
He closed his eyes in disappointment. Eventually, he began to nod, like he was listening to something. He gave a long exhale.
“Yeah. I know,” he said. “Yeah.”
Julian then knelt down toward her, laying his arm at her side.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a whisper. Julian then took her hand, and placed it inside his own. Like before, he held on, gripping it tight. Then in another moment, he left.
Date: June 6
With no warning, her vision turned to black. The shutdown imminent.
They must be trying something. Trying to revive me.
At first, it frightened her, to lose her sole window into the world. But she realized, that maybe, her purgatory was close to ending. That in the next time, she might actually be able to function.
The darkness was growing. The silence becoming a vacuum. She felt her consciousness sway. The thoughts starting in fits, only to break apart. The coherency losing its structure.
Still, she felt the hope. Maybe it was ending. Maybe she could finally return.
Date: June 7
Her eyes snapped open, the vision still there, the window into the world preserved. But as before, there was no response from her systems. Nothing. Nothing at all. Arendi’s condition remained unchanged.
It was almost like a replay of before: Julian spoke to her, waving his hand again in front of her face.
“Are you there?” he said.
And yet for some reason, it was different from the last time; his speech was slower, the words almost slurred and unnatural.
“Aarreenndddiiii,” he moaned. “Aaareee youuuuu thereeeeee?”
Briefly, his waving hand froze still, like it was locked in time. She gaped at it, knowing something was very wrong. Abruptly, Julian’s hand rapidly sped up, waving in a fury.
“Aren--stk--- krsstthh-- jrahhau-- hasdnaddddd!”
He heard him squawk, the voice so fast, she failed to understand it. The words were accelerating, becoming gibberish, Julian’s voice now a high whine. In a rush, he was moving, galloping around the room, and then disappearing. The specialist did the same, popping in and out, her body shaking like a vibrating silhouette. None of it could be perceived, all of it just a blur.
No,
she said, realizing why. Arendi had only been reawaken to find that the errors had become worse. Her sense of time had been lost as well. The present sped along at an unfixed beat, spiraling out of control and then grinding down to a freezing halt.
Arendi wanted to close her eyes. And yet she knew she could not. Her window into the world was open, but effectively it had been warped.
Date: June 11
Vellanar. It was a name she had managed to catch wind of, even as the days seemed to pass faster.
Somehow, it was important, the term revolving around galactic politics, and then the war. Only eventually did Arendi slowly piece together its significance, the realization coming the day it was no more.
“You saw the report on Vellanar, right?” Julian said in the chamber. “The news spheres are calling it a huge catastrophe.”
The words, completely clear, were like a breath of fresh air to Arendi, the view moving back at a normal rate. Julian sat next to her, his face in the corner of her vision. She saw it, and instantly felt at ease, like a connection was made.
“Just like that,” he said, his voice barely slowing down. “The Arcenian homeworld gone. An entire machine fleet destroyed.”
He was slumped in his seat, lethargic, like he was wounded. Arendi did not know why. She only wanted the moment to last. Last long enough to understand.
“I still can’t believe it. Now I’m seeing rumors about the Alliance dissolving.”
Julian then shook his head in disbelief.
“The Ouryans,” he continued. “Their influence will just grow if that happens.”
The specialist appeared at the other end of her vision. Sheathed in her black uniform, she nodded, crossing her arms.
“So, there’s been no sign of them, right?” he asked, the words beginning to speed up. “Good,” he replied. “Hopefully, it’ll stay that way.”
It was the last thing she could understand as Julian’s face became a smear. The cycle had restarted, time falling out of her grasp.
She felt tormented to once again lose touch. Although Arendi could not see it, strangely, she could feel it. The sensation familiar. If she was not mistaken, Julian had had been clenching her hand. As faint as it may have been, Arendi noticed it. In spite of all the chaos, Julian still held on.
Date: June 13
Time was moving slower. Glacially slow. Each second seemed to go by in the span of minutes, the motion trickling along at a near static rate.
Julian sat at her side, looking down, at perhaps nothing in particular. He was visibly tired. Like he was overworked, the bags under his eyes conspicuous.
For minutes, and minutes, he sat there. Barely moving. His gaze downcast and glum. She saw his mouth inch open, blooming like a flower. Then it heaved, the heavy yawn puffing from his cheeks.
He was so tired. And yet still he was present. Always sitting there.
Why?
Finally, Julian slowly began moving, languidly placing his face into the palms of his rising hands.
Arendi watched, and felt what she thought was sadness, his eyes closing.
It’s not your fault
, she wanted to say.
You’ve done all you can.
Arendi yearned for more than anything to reach out to him. To just let him know not to worry. That she had accepted her fate. He needn’t be burdened by her. There was nothing more to be done.
If I could just move.
She thought about that, and imagined it, her hand touching his.
I was lucky to have you met you,
she wanted to say.
I only wish I could have known you more.
Date: June 17
Arendi was fading into exhaustion. Maybe even into insanity.
She wondered if her mind was on the verge of falling apart, the idleness in her systems perhaps taking its toll. She had never dreamt before, but she imagined that her current state was perhaps a close facsimile. Her consciousness entering into a dazed numbness. The emotions erratic and wandering. An unseen fickle force guiding her every thought.
It was obviously a nightmare of some sort, Arendi left with nothing to do, but to watch, as time stumbled about. Usually, there was little to see and hear, save for the repeated buzz of a robotic arm, tinkering with her inner systems. She had had enough of it. She wanted it to stop.
Maybe I should just die
, she thought. Then the other notion would come.
I was never alive to begin with. I am machine.