Spinward Fringe Broadcast 7: Framework (43 page)

"What's my best option?" Ayan asked. "What's
the next step that will lead to the best outcome?"

"The future changes shape as we have this
conversation. I'm not going to answer that kind of question
directly because I have to keep fine-tuning things with the facts
as they appear. If I simply told you what to do next, the results
would change drastically."

"So you'll give me more information about
something if you see positive affects, less or different
information if you see things sliding in the wrong direction," Ayan
concluded.

"And again, she gets it. The Machine leads
us to the knowledge that the best way to protect the majority of
humanity as this war begins is to direct the attention of the right
people to Tamber. By doing what you thought was right, you and the
crew of the Triton put that in motion."

"The transmission to Earth and Freeground?"
Ayan asked.

"Exactly! Not only that, but the few things
Jacob has said while the Aucharians were watching. That speech made
its way around the Stellarnet. That man might not be the prettiest
boy in the universe, but he sure knows how to get people on their
feet!" Minh exclaimed. "What's more important to you is that Sol
Defence has heard you loud and clear, and they’ve already given you
the Triton. Citadel didn’t agree, but they’re not even playing the
same game."

“I could have prevented Laura’s death if we
had this conversation yesterday,” Ayan said.

“Not a chance. Some things just have to
happen, no matter how painful they are.”

“I wouldn’t have sacrificed her, there had
to be another way.”

“And that’s why this conversation didn’t
happen yesterday,” Minh said. "Just keep thinking ahead, let people
around you do what they do best and remember: the time to debate
and negotiate is over. You and your people have to take action,
keep what you have, and build on it whenever possible."

“And you’re not allowed to give me
instructions? That sounded pretty instructive to me,” Ayan said,
cocking her head.

“Just the drifty, ever-shifty facts, Ma’am.
You’ve already seen what happens if you spend the next couple of
days working your little butt off trying to get the Triton in
shape.”

“Right. Just thought you slipped there.
You’re not telling me very much about the future though, it’s
mostly been all about how the Victory Machine conducted a few ne’er
do wells into taking over who knows how many worlds.”

“One hundred and nineteen including resource
and terraformed worlds. The Victory Machine is using you to adjust
the future for the benefit of humanity. I tell you something,
changes happen, the Victory Machine decides what to tell you next
and the song goes on. If I told you something like, oh, you’re
going to give birth to a litter of kittens on your thirtieth
birthday, and it were actually possible, then your whole attitude
towards felines would take a drastic shift, and I might have
preemptively ended the lives of the whole litter.”

“Okay, I get it, despite the mad example,”
Ayan said. “I haven't said it aloud, but I've been thinking it. We
need the Triton back. Even if we want to settle the colony, we
still need that ship.”

"And if you play your cards right that’ll
happen. Little windows of opportunity that flash by, if you manage
to open a few, you'll improve conditions despite the hell that's
coming. I'll even give you an old school style prophecy to get you
started on the right foot: Watch the skies from the ground. The
toothy-grinned, taller than thou soldier must capture the silver
meteor. Cryptic enough?”

Ayan didn't know why, but she had the
feeling that her time with the Victory Machine was coming to an
end. "Wait! Should we move the civilians to the new colony?" When
Ayan next blinked her eyes, she was standing on a large platform
overlooking the ocean. Instead of walking towards a pedestrian
lane, Minh was leaving via a long gangway that led into a broad
passenger shuttle.

"Wish I could stay for question period, but
we've given you all the information you need to make the right
choices. Follow your instincts, they've never been better."

"Why do you look twenty years older instead
of nine?"

"Some paths can only be travelled one way.
No point in telling you about something you shouldn't try to
prevent. Oh, one more thing! Well, two. Wait, actually more like
three. Two messengers will come with good news. The information
they bring will eventually begin a contest between you and a good
friend. You have to win. Now, a word from our sponsor,” he said as
he turned to walk away.

* * *

In a blink Ayan was in the war room in Mount
Elbrus, the last place she'd seen Roman before meeting him in the
hospital. The dockyard was gone, and across the round table stood
Roman himself, as he appeared months before.

“Shadows fall. Citadel is watching, I'm
sorry," he said solemnly. “They won’t let the Victory Machine make
any more adjustments, save one.”

"It's more than I thought I'd learn about
the future when I woke up this morning. How firm is the future I
last saw, and where was I right before I appeared here?”

"I'm closing my connection to the Victory
Machine, so I can't say. I only wanted to take a moment to say
goodbye," Roman said. He looked weary, half leaning on the strategy
table between them.

"Is there anything I can do?" she asked.
"Any family I can contact for you?"

"My family was killed on Pandem. I'll be
joining with them soon. Energy never dies, and someday mine will
mingle with theirs. There is something else, though. Write my name
on something you know will hit its mark when you start fighting the
Order of Eden. I understand why they were guided to kill so many,
but I hate how good they were at it."

"I'll do it myself, and more than once,"
Ayan promised. "If Citadel has as much power as I think they do,
then why didn't they just act on information from the Victory
Machine themselves? Why leave it in other hands?"

"Because they fear being hated more than
they fear being revealed. Every time Citadel becomes too visible to
the rest of the galaxy they find a way to disappear, but if
evidence that they are directly responsible for all that’s
happened, and their ownership of the Victory Machine gets out,
Citadel will become widespread legend. They’d be dragged out into
the light as villains. Be careful if you end up meeting even one of
them in the future. They’re good at silencing people.”

"Things would have turned out better if they
did their own dirty work," she accused softly. "Wouldn't they?" It
was hard to press when she knew he was dying, that anything she
said would be a part of his last moments.

"Maybe, but there’s no point in debating
that now. I wish I could be a part of the punishment due Regent
Galactic and the Order of Eden, almost as much as I wish I could
spend another day with my family."

"I'm sorry," Ayan offered, regretting her
question.

"Now, I have a gift for you. One more trip
into the future, only this is more of a long-range extrapolation. A
lot further this time. This is a future you’ll have to earn, a
challenge. I wish I could give you more, but this is the end for
me."

"Goodbye, Roman. I wish I could have known
you better," Ayan said.

* * *

The fitful air stirred around her bare
ankles and the loose hem of her long, comfortably fitted dress.
Tucked under her arm was a dark long coat, almost exactly like
Jacob’s but brand new. Guards in armoured vacsuits bearing rifles
made of heavier, higher quality stuff than the weapons she'd seen
used by Triton soldiers were moving between multiple airlocks mixed
in with citizens and military personnel.

When Ayan tried to get a closer look at
their ranks, the emblems on their chests and the letters on their
backs they were a blur. All at once she realized she wasn't on the
Triton. That, aside from some of the standard mechanics of the
place and the transparent ergranian steel, it was a completely
unfamiliar place.

A young man who stood a little taller than
Jacob came from behind and gave her an affectionate squeeze. He was
still in his mid teens, and she hugged him back. While she could
see and feel what was going on, Ayan was not in control of her
actions. When the tall, strong fellow released her she saw the
skull emblem on his chest. It was green instead of white, and under
the half cranium the letters spelled out CHALLENGER instead of
Triton. Why she could read that one and none of the others, she
didn't know, but there was too much going on for her to dwell on
it.

"I didn't think you'd make it, Mum," he said
with a big smile.

"I wouldn't miss it. This might be the last
time I get to see you for a few months." Ayan could feel her eyes
welling up and took a deep breath.

"Don't start gushing, it's embarrassing,"
said a slightly older teen from beside her. She was only a little
shorter than Ayan, and had inherited the pointed chin and heart
shaped face from her mother in spades. Her hair was just as curly,
but had been colour shifted to deep blue. "We couldn't let ya go
off without embarrassing you in front of the other local cadets,"
she said wryly as she took a couple of steps towards him and let
herself be momentarily crushed under his arm.

"Your father wanted me to give you this.
It's a combat coat like the one he used to wear," Ayan said,
passing her son the long coat.

"With passive armour so it's still
regulation," he said, accepting it with a wide-eyed expression that
conveyed more gratitude than his quietly offered "thank you," as he
admired it.

It was almost comical watching his much
shorter sister take the jacket then hold it up high by the
shoulders so he could shrug into it. “Figures, you get the cool
dad, so you get the cool loot,” she said. They both had a British
accent, though her daughter’s was more casual.

Ayan let her daughter’s comment pass. "Your
father wishes he could be here too, it's from him," Ayan said
before adding: "he's very proud of you."

"I'm sure," her son muttered.

"Good luck, don't let them turn ya into a
brainless goon," his sister said as she gave him a quick peck on
the cheek. She turned towards Ayan. "I'm going to meet Zoe in
Dernsu, 'kay?" she said as she practically bounced away.

"Don't let me catch you in the clubs again,
Laura. Zoe's older, you're not ready to go everywhere she does!"
Ayan called after her, a warning in her tone.

"Yeah!" her daughter offered over her
shoulder noncommittally.

"Gotta go, Mum," her son said.

"Remember, I love you whether you make it
through or not," Ayan said, squeezing his hand. “But you try hard
and use your head.”

He smiled and bent down to kiss her on the
cheek. "I know," he said.

He was on his way through the airlock
checkpoint before she was ready to see him go, but then she’d never
really be ready to see her boy leave for Junior Fleet Academy. Even
though she was saddened and nervous at the departure of her second
born, the baby, all her hopes and best wishes went with him. She
hoped to see messages from him soon, but wished for his safety and
success even more.

At a thought, her messaging interface
appeared and she said; "We did all right, Jacob."

* * *

Ayan returned to the present, standing
beside Roman in the hospital room. Liam was standing beside her,
praying quietly. Roman looked like he was sleeping peacefully, but
the scanner results showing on her visor told a different story. He
was in a deep coma, and wouldn't last more than a few days, even
with his battered suit taking care of his immediate needs.

She looked at his peaceful, closed eyes.
"Thank you, Roman. I won’t forget you."

“They sent me in to perform last rights,”
Liam said quietly as he finished a prayer. “The Carthans don’t
believe in keeping chaplains aboard, but the fleet warden didn’t
put up a fight when he lapsed.”

“Is it a problem if I sit here quietly for a
moment while you do that?”

“Not at all. I’m sure it’s a comfort to
him.”

Perched on a stool, holding Roman’s hand in
hers, Ayan gave all that she'd learned some careful thought. Liam
went on with performing the last rites. It was the second time that
day. She couldn’t help but weep quietly. Ayan’s best friend was
gone. A hero few would ever know, Roman, was as good as gone, and
she knew there were hard days ahead.

That would be the last time she could be
afraid, or let it all catch up to her. She knew why Roman showed
her an image of her possible future. It was something to focus on,
to hope for: imperfect but beautiful. Even more than that, it was
something she would fight for.

When Liam finished reciting the last rites,
he reached for the front of the suit. “Now you have to leave,
Ayan.”

“No,” she stepped in his way and pushed him.
“Alaka!” she cried. Her proximity radio picked up her urgency and
transmitted her voice. “Get Liam out of here, now.”

Alaka was in the airlock before she finished
giving the command.

“I have to do this, Ayan,” Liam said. “This
is exactly what I should be doing. I can take this burden and make
things right.” He tried to get past her again, but she had the
upper hand.

The extreme environment suit could augment
her strength more than his vacsuit could his. He knew it, and
didn’t test her again. “No, this isn’t for you,” Ayan replied.
Alaka emerged from the airlock and wrapped his arm around Liam
Grady, guiding him back into the airlock firmly. “Take him back to
the shuttle and don’t let him leave.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Alaka said.

Ayan readied herself for a confrontation the
instant she finished exiting the airlock and came face to face with
Fleet Warden Harrison. The woman had surrounded herself with six
armed guardsmen. “What was that?” she asked, pointing her thumb at
Liam Grady, who was being escorted down the hallway.