Crucible of Time Read online

  Li-Jared gasped, the pain abruptly gone; and, fearfully, he looked across to see if Quin was okay.

  *She is fine.*

  Indeed she was, with two new daughter stones gleaming just below her throat. “I think—” he said, and then they both half leaned and half fell forward toward each other, their arms going around each other’s necks for support; and Li-Jared felt their stones link together, sharing a final cascade of knowledge . . .

  ***

  Quin’s shuttle docked soon thereafter, and Li-Jared walked her to the entry, his head aswarm with the images and memories that had crossed between them. Bandicut, on saying his good-bye, had seen the new daughter-stones gleaming but said nothing to either of them. Li-Jared didn’t want to speak of it just now.

  “Farewell, and be well,” Quin said to him, and he squeezed her hands hard, and then watched her board the Shipworld shuttle that would take her down to Karellendon and her staff and the Council, and all the Karellians who would have to make sense of what was happening to their world. On the bridge, he stood watching in the viewspace until long after the shuttle had dwindled to invisibility.

  “Copernicus,” he said, not turning, “do you think we did all right on this mission?”

  “Co-Captain Li-Jared,” answered the robot, rolling up beside him. “I think we did very well.”

  “I guess it will be one hell of a story to tell Ik when we get back.”

  “Hell of a story for sure,” said Copernicus.

  ***

  The Long View’s own departure seemed almost anticlimactic after the others. After a final palaver over the comm with Torno and the rest of the squadron leaders, Bandicut gave a nod to Copernicus. He looked out to see that The Long View was gliding past and away from the Shipworld fleet like a silent train accelerating out of a station. Soon enough they were plowing through the waves of n-space, on their way to the starstream.

  ***

  Bandicut spent much of the trip sitting by himself in the lounge, staring out at the nothingness of n-space, and thinking about those they had lost or left behind. The vessel felt empty without the Uduon and Karellian passengers. And without Bria. And Charli. As they came closer and closer to the starstream, he started to think more about those he hoped to see soon.

  Li-Jared remained in his cabin for most of the flight out. He spoke little to Bandicut and not at all to Ruall. But when the glowing thread of the starstream became visible ahead, Bandicut asked Copernicus to call him. After some delay, the Karellian appeared on the bridge. He no longer looked angry, exactly, but his countenance was muted. Ruall wasn’t on the bridge; she was out of the ship, searching for any echo of Bria. No one expected her to find any—Dark was quite clear about what she had seen—but no one, or certainly not Bandicut, begrudged her a final search. After all, no one had expected Charli to be alive still, either.

  “What do you need?” Li-Jared asked, gazing forward with his hands on his hips in a humanlike fashion.

  Bandicut walked up and stood beside him with his arms folded across his chest. “I thought we might need your brains, Li-Jared.” He tipped his head and angled a glance at his shipmate. There was no crack in the Karellian’s stolid expression. “We’re beginning a search for any hint that Bria might have survived in some form. You aren’t mad at Bria, are you?”

  “Only for dying,” Li-Jared muttered.

  Bandicut nodded. Hard to argue with that. “We’re also looking for Plato. We’re close to the rendezvous point.” Such as it was. It was pretty hard to specify a parking orbit out here with no close reference points. Dark should be able to find them, though, once they dropped out of n-space. She’d better.

  ***

  Dark did. Plato arrived a little after The Long View, coming out of k-space far enough away that The Long View probably would have missed them, but well within Dark’s sensitivity range. Due to their significant velocities, they did not attempt to bring the ships within visual range, but they did establish holo-communication. The starstream itself had grown to an endless, luminous tube arrowing from one end of infinity to the other. It finally looked large enough to hold their spaceships.

  The holo sprang to life in the center of the viewspace. “Greetings again, Captain Bandicut,” said Captain Brody, his image distorting just a bit in the display. “I trust your flight was satisfactory. Have you had any success in mapping a way back into the starstream?”

  Bandicut answered, “Dark says she can lead us both in, but one at a time. She’ll take you in first.” Getting into the stream was only half the challenge. Since the starstream was a highly elongated, closed loop of highly stressed space, the boundary between the inbound and outbound streams might be a tricky thing to negotiate. They were putting complete trust in Dark for this.

  “Quite acceptable, and we thank you. May I pass communication over to my Executive Officer?”

  “Please. Safe voyage, Captain,” said Bandicut, and then Brody stepped out of view.

  “Captain and Uncle, I’m glad to see you safely here,” said Dakota, radiant even in the holo.

  “Likewise! Are you ready for a ride?”

  “More than ready. Communication lock with Copernicus looks good. But I’m not yet picking up Dark.”

  Copernicus spoke up to answer that. “Dark has located your daughter stones . . . she says she will be making contact in a few . . .”

  “Whoa!” Dakota yelped. “She has made contact. Wow. I might need a minute to . . . never mind, she is giving me nav instructions. Looks like we will be starting our entry run in just a minute. I did not expect it so soon. We need to make a minor course correction to set up our entry.” She leaned sideways out of the picture.

  Copernicus said, “Dark has mapped their entry slot based on their flight path. She’s going to slip in ahead of them and create the opening.”

  Dakota reappeared. “Dark is telling us to fly straight into the wall of the starstream. We detect no entry point.”

  “You are just going to have to trust her. Trust Dark,” Bandicut said. A band of tension once more had a grip on his chest. They were all trusting Dark to do the impossible.

  “Affirmative.” Dakota stepped back, out of the field of view. Then she returned to the center and said, “Roger and wilco, Uncle John. I think this might all happen pretty suddenly, so I’m going to say good-bye, just in case. I’m so glad I saw you. All my love, and give that Li-Jared a big hug for me, all right?”

  “All right.” Bandicut glanced at Li-Jared and mouthed, I am not giving you a hug. “Listen, kiddo. You take care out there, and I hope to see you again someday. We Shipworlders get around, especially the Bandicuts among us.” He felt the stones in his wrists tingle, and knew they were exchanging a last link.

  Then he saw Dark disappear into the starstream, and an instant later reappear back on the outside. She did that twice more, and then on the final time, she pulled Plato inside along with her. There was a tiny flash as they passed through the wall of the starstream, and Plato was gone.

  ***

  Dark remained out of sight for several minutes, long enough to make Bandicut become twitchy and nervous. But finally Jeaves called out, “Dark is returning, along the outside. She stayed with Plato long enough to make sure she was safely on course.”

  “Please tell her thank-you,” Bandicut murmured.

  Soon Dark was back, and then it was their turn.

  Dark dipped in and out a couple of times, before advising Copernicus to skate right across the inbound stream and straight into the outbound. That, she said, would be easier than circling around to the far side and altering their trajectory and momentum to go straight into the outbound stream.

  Easier for Dark, perhaps. For Copernicus, the entry was a pretty piece of flying under stress. The starstream loomed before them like a streamer of clouds lit by a setting sun, expanding fast. Dark floated sideways through the streamer, and The Long View followed in a silent arc, lining up with Dark’s point of entry, and then slipped through like a needle
into a fine fabric.

  It was an elegant entry.

  And then they hit the first boundary layer of moving force—and the viewspace flared and a solid whump went through the floor, and they started shaking. “Whoops,” Copernicus said, his display lights flickering madly. “Half a moment.”

  The shaking intensified. “Coppy?” Bandicut asked, his voice restrained but urgent. The ship jerked sharply to his left. “Coppy?”

  “Almost there,” the robot said cheerfully. “Hang on.”

  Almost where? Bandicut wondered, gripping the nearest support. In the viewspace, something appeared out of the whiteout—a churning plane of flickering colors, slanting toward them and then angling away as the ship jerked the other way.

  “Hold tight, please!” Copernicus called—and with a last, bone-jarring thunk! the shaking stopped, and the ship glided on as before. The viewspace revealed the steady flow of the starstream stretching around and before them.

  “We’re in!” Bandicut cried. “Are we going the right direction?”

  “That’s not easy to tell at a glance,” Copernicus answered. “But I’ve just finished a scan, and yes—we are.”

  Ruall vibrated. “Is Dark still with us?”

  “Still there,” said Copernicus. “She says our course looks good. She’s going to scout ahead.”

  ***

  Not a trace of Bria did Ruall find in or out of the starstream. Riding half in and half out of the local tri-space and the surrounding n-space, she had tested splinter-space, diamond-space, and other dimensional permutations that might conceivably give echo to Bria’s presence, even in her death. It was a hopeless effort. She had expected it, and so it proved.

  It was a bitter conclusion, nonetheless.

  ***

  Bandicut hung out in the lounge, intending to eat a long-delayed meal, and found he couldn’t eat. What would it have been, anyway? Lunch? Dinner? He couldn’t remember. He gave up and returned to the bridge. Five minutes later, Copernicus chimed for attention and said, “I’ve just heard from Dark. She’s made contact with Charli.”

  Chapter 34

  Charli

  BANDICUT FELT AN odd hiccup in his perception of time as he absorbed the news. Contact with Charli—here in the starstream, where he had lost her? It was all coming back to him, though he still couldn’t remember how it had happened—whether she had jumped or been torn away by the Mindaru, or something else entirely. Even after Dark’s report, he had not dared to hope to find her on their return.

  But would this really be her, or just another echo of her, like Charlene-echo, lodged in the thoughts of Deep?

  Ruall voiced what Bandicut could not get out. “Does Dark say whether Charli can speak?”

  How am I supposed to make contact with her? /Stones? Can you help?/

  *We are trying.*

  Copernicus said, “I am trying to establish—”

  And before the robot could finish, Bandicut felt a sudden fire in his wrists. A light blossomed around him, and a voice boomed in his skull.

  /// John Bandicut? ///

  My God! “Charli!” Bandicut shouted out loud. Jeaves and Ruall turned toward him in surprise.

  He felt an explosion of joy in his chest so powerful and incandescent surely everyone on the bridge could feel it, too. /Charli! Charli, where are you?/ He had heard her thoughts, but she was not back in his head. Where in all the starstream—?

  /// John, I’m trying to focus on you.

  You are in one point, but you’re moving.

  Keep your thoughts still, if you can. ///

  His thoughts were about as still as a barroom brawl. Questions and hopes and fears were all crowding to get out at the same time. /Charli, I can’t see you./

  /// Don’t try to locate me.

  Let me locate you.

  It’s hard, because I am— ///

  /Far away?/

  /// Not exactly.

  I am . . . everywhere and nowhere.

  Up and down

  through the starstream.

  It’s strange here. ///

  /Strange. Yes, I can imagine,/ he whispered, although really he couldn’t. Charli didn’t answer right away, and for a moment, he feared he had lost the connection to the quarx. /Charli? Still there?/

  /// Yes. Sorry.

  I was trying something.

  But the movement of your ship . . .

  It takes some readjusting on my part. ///

  /We’re on course back to Shipworld. Charli—listen, I know I should probably build up to this, but is there any chance you could come back and join me? In my head?/

  Charli’s answer sounded wistful.

  /// I don’t think so, John.

  I wish I could,

  but I don’t think it’s possible.

  I think the starstream

  may be my final home. ///

  Though he could not be surprised, Bandicut felt a fresh new pang of grief.

  /// John, I’m glad

  you were successful in your mission.

  Can you tell me about it?

  What about Dakota?

  What was it like to visit Li-Jared’s world?

  Is he still with you?

  Is he all right? ///

  This time Bandicut sighed. /He is here. He is not too happy./

  /// Tell me everything that happened. ///

  Bandicut laughed briefly and spread his hands. /Where do I start?/

  /// At the beginning.

  From the time I saw you leave the starstream. ///

  /Do you have time for a long story?/

  /// John, I’ve got all the time

  in eternity. ///

  ***

  Bandicut told her everything. Not all at once, but over several days of ship-time. He spoke little to his shipmates; when he wasn’t sleeping, he was usually conversing with Charli. It felt so unutterably strange with the quarx on the outside. While he was grateful for this time together, a profound sadness dominated his feelings. Charli was out there, and in a little while, they would be separated again. He missed the friend in his head more than he would ever have imagined.

  They spoke only briefly about the seeming impossibility of getting back together, and then avoided the painful subject. At first he couldn’t bring himself to ask about Charli’s jump into the starstream. What if it had been intentional? But finally, after he had told the quarx everything that had happened—and heard in turn everything Charli could tell him about Ik and Julie—he had to ask.

  /Charli, do you like it here in the starstream? Have you ever been—/ he hesitated, searching for words /— I don’t know—glad you jumped? Or got knocked out of my head? Or whatever happened?/

  The wave of surprise that hit him was almost physical.

  /// What?

  John, I didn’t jump!

  Not intentionally! ///

  /I’m glad. Because it felt as if you did./

  /// No!

  I wouldn’t have done that! ///

  Bandicut searched back in his memory. It had been in the middle of a firefight. Chaos and confusion . . . /Are you sure? When the Mindaru was coming at us? I thought maybe you had some idea that you could—I don’t know—take it on yourself or something./

  /// John—

  jump out of your head during a battle?

  Absolutely no!

  I remember stretching out toward Dark.

  I was hoping to connect with her,

  to find some way to help. ///

  /Oh, you helped, all right, Charli! Whatever you did in that moment, it tipped the balance, and we got away. Even if it was an accident. We were deeply grateful. But also . . . / He stopped speaking for a moment, because he was getting choked up. It took him a few moments to be able to say the words. /I thought you were probably dead, or lost forever. I grieved hard for you, Charli. I truly did./ And as he spoke, he realized he was grieving all over again.

  /// Oh, John—I grieved, too.

  I still grieve. ///

 
Suddenly, from out of Bandicut’s grief came an unexpected burst of satisfaction. /But Charli, we did all right! We stopped a war—and we stopped those goddamn Mindaru when they showed up! And we stopped any more of them from coming up the timestream! At least . . . I think we did. Did we, Charli? Could you tell from where you were?/

  Charli’s laugh seemed to roll down the light-years.

  /// I’m pretty sure you did, all right.

  With help from Ik and Julie. ///

  Bandicut grimaced at that, because what Charli had been able to tell him about Julie and Ik’s mission seemed so strange and unreal to him. /And you,/ he said pointedly to the quarx. /You helped them in their need!/ Against Mindaru in the starstream! Against getting lost.

  It was all making his head spin.

  ***

  Some amount of time had slipped by him—he didn’t know how much—when he heard Charli say,

  /// I really wish I could go back to Shipworld

  with you. ///

  Bandicut had been staring out the viewspace at the slowly passing starstream, and he started at Charli’s words. /Do you, Charli? If you could come back and rejoin me, would you do that?/

  Charli seemed surprised by his question.

  /// Would I?

  Of course I would! ///

  /Well, I’d want you to. But are you sure? You’ve got a pretty incredible spot here—with all of creation laid out for you!/

  /// It is an amazing view, John,

  but I’d much rather be with you,

  and with your friends.

  It’s lonely here, John.

  Infinity is a very large place. ///

  Stunned, Bandicut took a few seconds to answer. His thoughts jumped around. If it was what Charli wanted, surely there was something they could do. Some way to make it possible for Charli to jump back into his head, and make things as they were before? He looked to his stones, to see if they had anything to say. They seemed preoccupied, buzzing with activity in a way that usually meant they were searching for a solution to a problem. /Do you think there’s any way, Charli?/

  /// It would be an extreme long-shot.

  But I’d like to try anyway. ///

  He felt a pulse of hope. /What would we have to do?/