two
ANGEL RELEASES him into the land of wake when he unlatches the bonds keeping Atom to the operation table. His handcuffs remain on, of course, as Angel escorts him to the Captain.
Directly in the heart of the cockpit sits Maverick, comfortably occupying the pilot seat. Gold metallic hair glinting over the top of the back cushion. Sunrise over a winter meadow.
Angel projectiles him toward Maverick with a firm shove, and retreats out of the room, out of sight. Atom hits a storage compartment to Maverick's left, and hovers there. Maverick's hands press into the keyboard, expertly dictating a thorough search of the main computer's files. All he would find is Yosef Radix's legacy, but Atom knows Maverick is merely doing his job. Atom is achingly familiar with it, had gone through the same monotonous motions hundreds of times himself. Investigative work could be boring at times, but it's an essential part of working as a Unity Keeper. Assassination is only one facet of the position.
"Humor me, Atom." Maverick's quiet voice cracks the silence. "Have you ever read the collective works of Reever Yerth?"
Atom stares at Maverick's profile. All sharp features and hard angles. Wrinkles deep-set in the corners of his eyes, wrapping under permanent dark eyebags. He's been at this for a long time. Distantly, Atom wonders what this man might have been like as a Cadet. Bright eyed? Eager? Rebellious?
When Atom doesn't answer, Maverick casts him a side-eyed glance. Gold eyes drawing the voice out of him.
"No." Says Atom.
"Not a fan of poetry? Do you like to read at all? It's an ancient hobby, I know. But there aren't many books left. I believe we owe it to our blood to read what we can, before every last book is destroyed."
A pang of loss runs through Atom when he remembers the books he lost in the crash. "I read."
"Good." Maverick's typing picks up speed for a minute, and Atom believes the topic has reached its end, until Maverick's hands go still entirely. "There is a poem written by Yerth that I read in my youth. I didn't think much of it at the time, but something about it stuck, nestling deep into my brain, and it has continued to haunt me decades later. I don't think about it every day, but every now and then it'll resurface. I haven't thought about it for a very long time. But today it is as vivid as it was in my childhood.
"The poem is about a wild coyote. A small, scrawny thing, with sharp teeth and wide gray eyes.
"One day the coyote makes a deal with God. In exchange for immortal life, the coyote accepts the burden to feel the pain of others as if it is his own. At first, his new life is great. His health improves, and he grows bigger. Stronger. And more beautiful. He no longer hungers, and has the energy to run for days and nights without rest. All is good.
"Until he finds an injured rabbit. Shot by a hunter, bleeding out. And the pain he feels on his own body is too great. So he runs away. But the pain follows him. Burrows into his own tissue, deeper and deeper until he hangs on the edge of insanity.
"He returns to the clearing hoping to find the rabbit, not knowing what else to do. The rabbit is gone, but the Coyote was born a natural predator. Following the scent of the rabbit's blood is easy. When he finds it, and the hunter who shot it, the Coyote kills them both and eats their bodies. The pain stops. Until he finds a baby bird, fallen from its nest, crying out for help. He eats it, too. The next day he meets a deer with a slash upon its thigh. He chases down the deer and swallows it whole, growing bigger still. It is the only way he knows to stop the pain. And so he eats, and eats, swallowing misery until no more animals or people remain.
"And when the trees cry out in mourning, he eats them too. And when the wind howls in loneliness he swallows that too. He consumes the oceans, the moon, and even the planet itself. Until all that's left is the void. And at last the coyote is at peace. And spends the rest of eternity in euphoria."
At the end of his story Maverick casts a glance at the starry universe through the large window in front of them. Then he swallows, and seems to come back to himself.
"Is peace the only answer to happiness? I have always wondered this, and always found discomfort in the idea. But maybe I have grown too used to chaos, and bloodshed, to be able to consider any other kind of life. What do you think? What is your idea of true happiness?"
Atom shuffles, and the handcuffs clink at his movement. "I don't know. The only time I ever feel at peace is when I'm asleep."
Maverick taps a finger against the console and addresses Atom directly. "If the coyote came to you in the night, would you fight it? Or would you lay your head in his jaw and pray for a quick end?"
"I would fight. But maybe that's just my training."
Maverick nods, and then says, "Tell me what the device is, Atom."
Atom looks at the navigation screens on the console. Their destination is set for Novo, and the distance marker shrinks in value as he watches the screen. Atom doesn't know if he should be surprised. Apparently, Maverick is a man of his word.
"They say you smuggled a top secret device aboard your ship. And that if you are not apprehended you could cause unknown amounts of damage. If you comply and tell us what the device is, and what it's for, you may still walk away from this with your life."
Atom looks back at him, no longer impressed. "That's a lie. You're going to kill me no matter what I say. I'm already a criminal."
"Atom, they say it's likely to be a bomb. Is that true?"
Atom's silence is answer enough. Maverick nods. And turns away.
The motion churns Atom's stomach. "It's not—I'm not interested in war. This—has nothing to do with that."
"No?" The golden man meets his eyes once more. "Sorry if I have a hard time believing that. What then, is this all about?"
"Salvation." The word spills out of his throat like a prayer. "The ultimate act of Unity. The Device will cause the galaxy to collapse into itself, but the effect isn't immediate. It could take years, centuries, for the implosion to reach Earth. In that time, humanity will realize how pointless it is to fight, to kill each other over greed and power. It will unite them in a time of peace we haven't seen since... since... Before."
Maverick stares at him. Still as a stone.
When at last he talks, his voice is slow and controlled, and his eye contact unrelenting. "At times it feels like my every act, no matter how small, is an act of warfare. Some days I think my own heart pumping blood through my body, keeping me alive, might just be another instrument to this madness. Yet you—a man with a device that will destroy the galaxy, feel innocent?"
"We are a dying race. If I don't do this, our final days will be of suffering and pain. This could change that."
"And if it doesn't?"
"Then my actions will have been pointless. But at least I will have tried to make a difference."
"That's a massive risk to take, Atom."
"Someone has to take it."
Maverick shakes his head. "I don't believe that. There has to be another way."
"And if there isn't?"
"I don't know. But I will not place my head in the jaws of a howling coyote."
His tone has the finality of a door slammed firmly shut. His fingers move across the keyboard once more and he doesn't look at Atom again.
"Angel, take him away. Make sure he eats. We'll Jump in about an hour. I have some things to take care of first."
Angel enters the cramped room before Maverick has finished speaking. He must've been waiting just outside the room. Taking Atom by the straps he hauls him to the kitchen. He takes a food pack and punctures it with a straw. He puts the straw between Atom's lips and retreats.
"Drink up." He barks more than says. Atom obediently drinks and watches Angel, assessing any weaknesses that might be readily apparent. Built like a log and towering several feet longer than Atom, his odds don't look good. But he is still Maverick's subordinate. Delegated to keeping watch on the criminal. There has to be reasons for that. If not physical, then a weakness of character.
He too, will fall. When the time is right.
Atom is bound to his bed for the duration of the Jump. Afterwards, Angel collects him and tosses him into the equipment room. Getting Atom into a spacesuit while keeping his hands restrained takes time, but Angel seems familiar with process. As soon as that's finished, he manhandles Atom to the cockpit and secures him to the passenger seat. Then he retreats to his own ship and undocks.
With only Maverick in his immediate vicinity, the odds start to look much better. Maverick doesn't spare him a glance before commencing moonfall. Atom watches the desolate rock grow closer in the reflection of Maverick's visor and feels his nerves jitter in anticipation.
The landing is quick, and smooth. When the ship at last falls quiet, Maverick takes the ID card still embedded into the console—Yosef's card—and snaps it in half. Then his hands are on Atom. Freeing him from his shacklement to the chair.
With his hands bound, and his leg uncooperative, he struggles to stand from the chair. Maverick helps him up and steers him to the airlock. Atom leans heavily on his metal leg while Maverick finishes gathering supplies. With the exception of an additional patch on his right arm to signify his rank, his suit is identical to Atom's. Mentally he checks off all possible weak points.
Coming to join him at the door, Maverick gives him a brisk look. "Suit check?" He prompts.
"All good." Atom answers.
Unlatching the airlock, Maverick gives it a slight shove and lets it swing open of its own accord. "You will not be returning to this ship." He says this as if it were a comment on the weather.
"What happened to me having a second chance if I told you about the device?"
"That was a lie, of course."
"Of course."
"So where is it?"
Atom turns and looks outside for the first time. A calm falls over him. The two of them will leave this ship, and only one will return.
He feels unbalanced without a sword at his hip, but he would manage. He would have to, somehow.
"It's underground. Buried." Says Atom.
"Where?"
"You know I can't tell you. I'll have to show you. I suggest you bring a shovel."
Maverick disappears briefly and comes back with a shovel. With it, he motions for Atom to exit the ship.
"Lead the way."
"I need my hands, to navigate."
"Not yet you don't. Get off the ship."
Atom eyes the drop. "You want me to jump?"
"Do you want me to carry you?"
Atom walks to the edge and steps off. The gravity here is less than the gravity on Earth, but he still stumbles the landing. Soft gritty sand catches him though, and he quickly scans his surroundings while Maverick climbs down the ladder behind him.
To his right a sun-star burns several times smaller than the sun seen from Earth. A blue-white speck smaller than his thumbnail. In front of him is a wide purple-gray-blue expanse of virgin rock and sand, never before touched by a living being. The horizon is a black line blurred by dust and ice particles hanging low in the air. Night above, rock below, and a dust storm all around. Nothing too interesting.
But to his left is a subtle variation in the scenery. A small rock jutting out of the surface, some dozen yards away.
"That's the first landmark." Says Atom, and he starts walking. Maverick follows close behind. A menacing presence digging into his spine. A knife that would not be twisted free until Atom was in the stars again. Alone.
"How do you know that's the right rock?" Asks Maverick, reasonably.
"It's the only rock. I'll be able to locate it on your map, and use it to figure out where to go from there." He flexes his fingers behind his back for Maverick to see. "I need to use your slab."
"You'll get it. For now, keep walking."
The sand sinks with each step. A low wind picks up as they move further from the ship. Churning the dust at their feet into an ocean of movement. Once at the rock, Atom hopes Maverick doesn't decide to stab him on the spot. But instead he feels a tug on his handcuffs, followed by a click, and then his hands are free. He brings them to his front, slowly, flexing out his stiffness.
Maverick holds out the slab for him to take. Atom accepts it and pulls up the directory of planetary charts. Novo sits at the top of the list, having been Maverick's most recently accessed.
He stares at the barren landscape displayed on the screen unseeing. At last he points at a spot on the map at random.
"We go here."
"That's where it's buried?"
"Nearly."
Maverick extends his arm for the slab. "Go, then."
"You won't cuff me again?"
"Do I need to?"
"Of course not. You have the shovel, and I'm bare handed. I won't try anything yet."
The rest of the walk is tense. Atom discreetly tries to scan the stars above for any sign of Angel's ship but finds no sign of it. When they reach the allocated spot, Maverick draws his sword, and passes the shovel to Atom. Obediently, Atom begins to dig. Sand gives way to clay, and his motions become more labored.
It’s now or never.
He plunges the shovel into the ground one last time, and when it comes back up he keeps swinging, up and around and into Maverick's sword.
It begins with a dull clang, the sound further muffled by their suits. Maverick is ready for it, and jumps back, holding his sword in a defensive position. Atom doesn't look at it. He swings the shovel with all his strength into Maverick's helmet, and throws his own body immediately after, barreling into Maverick with all his weight.
The two of them fall and Maverick tries to roll on top. He finds a grip on Atom's thigh— his empty knife holster— and yanks while twisting his hips to buck Atom onto his back. His thighs spread across Atom's torso. Atom manages to plant two hard jabs into Maverick's crotch before his wrists are wrenched above his head.
Atom thrashes. Maverick makes no move to retrieve his sword.
Existence shrinks to this moment. Atom catches his breath and almost laughs.
If Maverick was acting to kill, Atom would be dead by now. He sees this he inhales this he seethes with this fact. And while Maverick fumbles for the handcuffs Atom unlocks his right glove and tears it free.
A concealed knife is in his palm before Maverick can regain a grip on Atom's wrists. Atom's body feels the cold sink its teeth through his thin underglove and into flesh. He sees only the motion of his action, the arc of his arm as it meets its target. The knife sinks into Maverick's injured shoulder, angled inward, toward his throat. Maverick twitches and clasps both hands around Atom's exposed arm.
Atom watches his face through the glass of his suit. Watches his quick shallow breaths. His golden eyes haloed by white.
"A dead man is the most dangerous man, for he has nothing to lose and everything to gain." Says Atom.
Maverick blinks. His quiet words rasp into Atom's head without urgency. "What is there to gain for you?" Blood runs freely from their point of contact. It slides down Maverick’s water-resistant suit and stains only the sand beneath them. "Oblivion is all that waits at the end of this road."
"This is the only path to Unity."
"Atom," Blood runs from his red lips. "There is always... another... Atom—"
Atom doesn't feel it when Maverick's hands finally fall limp and release him. He yanks the knife free from Maverick's neck. He crawls to his discarded glove and yanks it back over his numb arm. He turns up the temperature of his suit. He picks up Maverick's sword, and slab. He looks up.
The storm has gotten much worse, and Atom has to rely entirely on the map to find his way back to the ship. But as he approaches he sees two sets of lights breaking through the dust storm.
Angel. He must have come down of his own volition. Or maybe it was their plan all along.
He sees the shape of him standing in the doorway to Atom's ship. He doesn't bother sheathing the sword. He knows Angel sees him as he enters the ship's halo of floodlights, sees Angel looking down on him. But Angel says nothing, and doesn't move a muscle. His silhouette stands there, and watches.
Then, a crackle comes over the short-range radio in his helmet. Atom tenses.
"Captain? Are you out there?" It's Angel. "This storm came out of nowhere, can't see a damn thing." Hard voice mixed with static and worry. "If you can hear me, say something."
Sweat builds on the back of Atom's neck. His eyes stay stuck to the figure in the doorway and sourness churns in his stomach.
"Come in, Captain. If you can hear me, let it be known." A long pause fills with the sound of Atom's heartbeat drumming, rolling, picking up speed. "I'm not catching your location signal. If you're saying something, I can't hear you. I'm going to exit the ship and look for you."
The blood in Atom's ears reaches its crescendo. He barely hears Angel's next words.
"I'm exiting the ship now."
The dark shape in the doorway of Atom's ship does not move from its place. A light erupts in Atom's peripheral. It comes from the direction of Angel's ship. His head turns, slowly. And he sees Angel exit his ship, flashlight in hand.
Angel reaches the ground and swings his flashlight in a circle around him. It passes over Atom, and snaps back to him a second later.
"Is that you, Captain?"
Atom's legs kick into motion. Angel watches him approach, and slowly reaches for his own weapon. A short, curved sword.
Atom raises Maverick's heavy blunt blade with his left hand and swings.
Angel puts up a good fight. But Atom is smaller, faster. The sword dives straight through his heart. A clean kill. Angel's body falls at Atom's feet, arms thrown wide to either side. Atom plants his boot on Angel's chest and pries the sword free. Then he turns around.
The figure has climbed down the ladder and now stands in the ship's floodlights. White suit, gold visor. Atom sees himself in the reflection, wielding a bloody sword, death in his shadow.
For a second, the wind picks up and the dust clears. It swirls in a perfect circle, domeing them in clarity. The stranger moves. A single step toward Atom and the dome breaks. Dust instantly rushes in to fill the emptiness.
Atom brandishes the blade. It does not waver in the strength of the storm.
The stranger comes to Atom with empty hands. It moves slowly, but when it finally stops at the tip of Atom's outstretched sword it is much too quick.
It reaches for its helmet and flips up both latches--
—and all Atom sees is darkness. And the darkness moves. It pours and ripples, unfurling to uncover darker shadows still. Churning over itself. Roiling and dripping. And with a swift single curtain it blankets Atom in a heavy calm.
Winter slices his tongue. Cold water slides down his throat in gulps. A million snowdrops prick his skin. Ice coats his lungs, and is thawed by firewood. Cedar sap and burning pine fills his nose. His body shakes with vehemence and when he opens his eyes Atom sees his hometown.
It's January, and he's chopping firewood. His arms are raised mid swing. His dog, Snegurichka, is barking. The sky is black. It's midday. The sun skims just under the horizon. Atom puts down the ax. He's sweating profusely. He calls out to Snegurichka, to calm her, but his voice falls silent. In fact he isn't breathing. Snegurichka continues to bark at something she sees on the road to their house. Explosions of sound in repetition. Atom follows her line of sight to a figure standing motionless in the middle of the path. It glows in the light of the moon, in a brilliant snow-bleached suit.
When Atom next opens his eyes, the world is pure white.
He jolts, and vague shapes snap into focus. A small room surrounds him, brightly lit. An infirmary. On a ship, if the lack of gravity is anything to go by.
Atom takes off his right glove and flexes his hand. It moves, albeit stiffly. But he won't be needing to cut it off, so he wrestles off his helmet and his other bulky glove and kicks toward the door, propelling through it. Slicing down the corridor in a straight line to the front of the ship, with knife in fist.
Tearing through the final doorway he nearly forgets to stop and catches himself on the edge of the control room before he crashes into The Stranger.
It sits in the pilot seat.
The sweat on Atom's neck returns. His hair rises, every follicle shifting in the presence of the stranger. Tilting towards it, seeking.
Bending in prayer.
A wail rises deep in his throat. Atom chokes it, but the thing hears him, and turns its head. The reflective visor reveals none of the horrors lurking beneath it.
"Who are you?" Asks Atom. The stranger does not answer.
"Did Commander Solarius send you? Are you part of—" He gestures erratically. "This?"
No response.
"Are you going to talk?" He asks, "Can you talk?"
Without making a sound The Stranger unlatches from the seat and floats around it to face Atom. In the hard cold light of the ship's interior there is no hiding from it. And it, cannot hide, from Atom. There is only the hard edges of its form. Visual truth.
From head to toe it wears an astronaut suit identical to Atom's. Except stretched across its chest is an old, threadbare nametag. White letters on faded blue.
:: Robby Monroe ::
Atom points at it with his knife. "Is that your name? Robby?"
The thing—Robby—doesn't move. But Atom watches as its limbs sway like waves. Disjointed. Subtle. Don't look and you'll miss it.
"What are you?" He insists, getting louder.
And maybe it's Atom's voice, or the knife aimed at Robby's chest, that prompts it—him—to raise his arms. Robby raises his hands slowly to the latches on his helmet and that’s when Atom lunges, kicking off the doorway for momentum.
He shoves his knife into the center of Robby's chest. The metal slides in with little resistance, not unlike stabbing a pillow. Atom withdraws it, trying to retreat back in the narrow space, as black spidery smoke shoots out of the hole in the suit. The substance juts out in every direction in sharp black spikes, and then expands, softening, changing into a fine mist and then contracting back together into a ball of sharp edges. Back and forth. Pulsating.
"What—the hell—"
Slowly, the substance wriggles back through the hole from which it came and Robby places one of his hands over it.
The two of them hang, suspended and frozen on opposite sides of the room, for an eternity.
Atom slides his knife, entirely clean, into his thigh holster and creeps over to a first aid panel in the wall to his right. He unlatches the lid and digs out a roll of duct tape. Tearing off a wide strip, Atom moves forward. When he reaches Robby, his hands begin to shake again. When Atom touches Robby's hand, the one covering the wound, he elicits no reaction. Glove to glove, he hooks his fingers around Robby's and tugs.
The shadows immediately threaten to bubble out but Atom seals the tear with his duct tape before anything has the chance to escape. Then he retreats.
"Sorry," He says. "But don't— Whatever that is, I don't want to see it. I don't want it anywhere near me."
Stiffly Robby hovers before him and says nothing.
"Shit, if you can't talk, can you at least understand me? You're using my ship," He gestures to the control panel behind Robby. "You got us off the ground and back into space and we haven't blown up. So can you hear me, or not? Do you know what I'm saying?"
The top half of Robby's body bends forward and straightens out again, three times.
"Okay... that's a start. Okay. Where are we headed?" He tries.
Robby raises a finger to the duct tape on his chest and Atom has his knife in his hand in the next second. Robby drops his hand and turns halfway to show Atom the coordinates on the control panel.
The room shifts and an iron calmness befalls Atom.
"I don't know where that is. Listen, I have a job to do. I have to get to the center of the galaxy, this galaxy. And I can't let you get in the way of that."
Robby points again to the coordinates. Atom takes a deep breath. "This is my ship," He says. "I need you to step aside and let me fulfill my duty."
But Robby shakes his head, no, and moves closer to the pilot seat. Atom raises his knife and immediately regrets it when Robby pops his helmet. Sour sweat breaks out across Atom's body as that awful depthless abyssal darkness swarms out to consume him.
It permeates through his skin and Atom chokes on it, tries to fight the weight of it, tries to swim free and goes blind with the effort. It clouds his skull and poisons his bloodstream, buries him in a place so dark his bones weep against the suffocating pressure.
His lungs still scream in agony when he wakes some time later. He comes back to himself with pure clarity, and finds his body still floating in the pilot room. Somehow, still alive. And uninjured.
As his burning eyes fall on the stranger seated in the pilot seat Atom sheathes his knife for good.
"Let's make a deal," He rasps. "Let me get to where I need to go, and then this ship is all yours. I don't care where you take it or what you do with it. I don't need it to get home. This was meant to be a one-way trip from the start. Just take me to the center of the Milky Way. Please."
Robby turns to regard him.
"I won't try to hurt you again, either." He adds. At this, Robby extends a hand towards him. Cautiously Atom clasps it and gives it a firm shake. "Deal?"
Robby nods his head. Yes.
Atom sighs and eases into the passenger seat. He runs off the coordinates of his destination and watches carefully as Robby types them into the computer. Above the keyboard Atom spots his own ID card sticking out of the console. That answers one question. But Atom still doesn't understand the familiarity and ease with which Robby steers the ship back onto its previous course.
So he asks the obvious question, "Are you from Earth?"
Robby shakes his head. No.
"Are you from the research facility? Base Violet? That's where you got on my ship, right? I saw you in the hallway, thought it was just my imagination. Couldn't have imagined you were something like this, though. Whatever you are. Did they create you?"
No.
"This place you're trying to get to... is that where you're from?"
Yes.
"And what are you?"
He makes a hand symbol. Wraps one fist around the other. Then, Hooks his thumbs together and spreads his fingers outward. Puts one hand on his own chest and rests the other on Atom's chest. Solid contact.
It isn't any sign language Atom recognizes.
Shaking his head, Atom sits back and rubs at his throat. For all his stillness Robby might as well be a statue seated across from him.
Could this be space madness? After all these years, has it finally caught up with him? It isn't unheard of. And Atom doesn't immediately rule it out as a possibility. But isn't the recognition of madness itself a sign of sanity? And the frostbite coating his airway is pretty convincing evidence of this creature's existence.
Atom rubs his eyes and redirects his thoughts.
All that matters is completing the mission. If this stranger wants to catch a ride with him, that's fine. But the moment he becomes a nuisance Atom will get rid of him. Somehow. If he can't kill the thing, leaving it deserted on some nameless rock in space will be the next best course of action.
But why wait for something to go wrong? Why not free himself from this cargo as soon as possible? All he has to do is wait for Robby to leave the cockpit. He can't sit there forever, right? Then all Atom has to do is land on the nearest space rock big enough to hold their weight and make up some story about maintenance, maybe even fake a gas leak, anything to get Robby off the ship.
Having him gone will be one less factor to keep track of. One less headache. So Atom settles down, and waits.
Directly in the heart of the cockpit sits Maverick, comfortably occupying the pilot seat. Gold metallic hair glinting over the top of the back cushion. Sunrise over a winter meadow.
Angel projectiles him toward Maverick with a firm shove, and retreats out of the room, out of sight. Atom hits a storage compartment to Maverick's left, and hovers there. Maverick's hands press into the keyboard, expertly dictating a thorough search of the main computer's files. All he would find is Yosef Radix's legacy, but Atom knows Maverick is merely doing his job. Atom is achingly familiar with it, had gone through the same monotonous motions hundreds of times himself. Investigative work could be boring at times, but it's an essential part of working as a Unity Keeper. Assassination is only one facet of the position.
"Humor me, Atom." Maverick's quiet voice cracks the silence. "Have you ever read the collective works of Reever Yerth?"
Atom stares at Maverick's profile. All sharp features and hard angles. Wrinkles deep-set in the corners of his eyes, wrapping under permanent dark eyebags. He's been at this for a long time. Distantly, Atom wonders what this man might have been like as a Cadet. Bright eyed? Eager? Rebellious?
When Atom doesn't answer, Maverick casts him a side-eyed glance. Gold eyes drawing the voice out of him.
"No." Says Atom.
"Not a fan of poetry? Do you like to read at all? It's an ancient hobby, I know. But there aren't many books left. I believe we owe it to our blood to read what we can, before every last book is destroyed."
A pang of loss runs through Atom when he remembers the books he lost in the crash. "I read."
"Good." Maverick's typing picks up speed for a minute, and Atom believes the topic has reached its end, until Maverick's hands go still entirely. "There is a poem written by Yerth that I read in my youth. I didn't think much of it at the time, but something about it stuck, nestling deep into my brain, and it has continued to haunt me decades later. I don't think about it every day, but every now and then it'll resurface. I haven't thought about it for a very long time. But today it is as vivid as it was in my childhood.
"The poem is about a wild coyote. A small, scrawny thing, with sharp teeth and wide gray eyes.
"One day the coyote makes a deal with God. In exchange for immortal life, the coyote accepts the burden to feel the pain of others as if it is his own. At first, his new life is great. His health improves, and he grows bigger. Stronger. And more beautiful. He no longer hungers, and has the energy to run for days and nights without rest. All is good.
"Until he finds an injured rabbit. Shot by a hunter, bleeding out. And the pain he feels on his own body is too great. So he runs away. But the pain follows him. Burrows into his own tissue, deeper and deeper until he hangs on the edge of insanity.
"He returns to the clearing hoping to find the rabbit, not knowing what else to do. The rabbit is gone, but the Coyote was born a natural predator. Following the scent of the rabbit's blood is easy. When he finds it, and the hunter who shot it, the Coyote kills them both and eats their bodies. The pain stops. Until he finds a baby bird, fallen from its nest, crying out for help. He eats it, too. The next day he meets a deer with a slash upon its thigh. He chases down the deer and swallows it whole, growing bigger still. It is the only way he knows to stop the pain. And so he eats, and eats, swallowing misery until no more animals or people remain.
"And when the trees cry out in mourning, he eats them too. And when the wind howls in loneliness he swallows that too. He consumes the oceans, the moon, and even the planet itself. Until all that's left is the void. And at last the coyote is at peace. And spends the rest of eternity in euphoria."
At the end of his story Maverick casts a glance at the starry universe through the large window in front of them. Then he swallows, and seems to come back to himself.
"Is peace the only answer to happiness? I have always wondered this, and always found discomfort in the idea. But maybe I have grown too used to chaos, and bloodshed, to be able to consider any other kind of life. What do you think? What is your idea of true happiness?"
Atom shuffles, and the handcuffs clink at his movement. "I don't know. The only time I ever feel at peace is when I'm asleep."
Maverick taps a finger against the console and addresses Atom directly. "If the coyote came to you in the night, would you fight it? Or would you lay your head in his jaw and pray for a quick end?"
"I would fight. But maybe that's just my training."
Maverick nods, and then says, "Tell me what the device is, Atom."
Atom looks at the navigation screens on the console. Their destination is set for Novo, and the distance marker shrinks in value as he watches the screen. Atom doesn't know if he should be surprised. Apparently, Maverick is a man of his word.
"They say you smuggled a top secret device aboard your ship. And that if you are not apprehended you could cause unknown amounts of damage. If you comply and tell us what the device is, and what it's for, you may still walk away from this with your life."
Atom looks back at him, no longer impressed. "That's a lie. You're going to kill me no matter what I say. I'm already a criminal."
"Atom, they say it's likely to be a bomb. Is that true?"
Atom's silence is answer enough. Maverick nods. And turns away.
The motion churns Atom's stomach. "It's not—I'm not interested in war. This—has nothing to do with that."
"No?" The golden man meets his eyes once more. "Sorry if I have a hard time believing that. What then, is this all about?"
"Salvation." The word spills out of his throat like a prayer. "The ultimate act of Unity. The Device will cause the galaxy to collapse into itself, but the effect isn't immediate. It could take years, centuries, for the implosion to reach Earth. In that time, humanity will realize how pointless it is to fight, to kill each other over greed and power. It will unite them in a time of peace we haven't seen since... since... Before."
Maverick stares at him. Still as a stone.
When at last he talks, his voice is slow and controlled, and his eye contact unrelenting. "At times it feels like my every act, no matter how small, is an act of warfare. Some days I think my own heart pumping blood through my body, keeping me alive, might just be another instrument to this madness. Yet you—a man with a device that will destroy the galaxy, feel innocent?"
"We are a dying race. If I don't do this, our final days will be of suffering and pain. This could change that."
"And if it doesn't?"
"Then my actions will have been pointless. But at least I will have tried to make a difference."
"That's a massive risk to take, Atom."
"Someone has to take it."
Maverick shakes his head. "I don't believe that. There has to be another way."
"And if there isn't?"
"I don't know. But I will not place my head in the jaws of a howling coyote."
His tone has the finality of a door slammed firmly shut. His fingers move across the keyboard once more and he doesn't look at Atom again.
"Angel, take him away. Make sure he eats. We'll Jump in about an hour. I have some things to take care of first."
Angel enters the cramped room before Maverick has finished speaking. He must've been waiting just outside the room. Taking Atom by the straps he hauls him to the kitchen. He takes a food pack and punctures it with a straw. He puts the straw between Atom's lips and retreats.
"Drink up." He barks more than says. Atom obediently drinks and watches Angel, assessing any weaknesses that might be readily apparent. Built like a log and towering several feet longer than Atom, his odds don't look good. But he is still Maverick's subordinate. Delegated to keeping watch on the criminal. There has to be reasons for that. If not physical, then a weakness of character.
He too, will fall. When the time is right.
Atom is bound to his bed for the duration of the Jump. Afterwards, Angel collects him and tosses him into the equipment room. Getting Atom into a spacesuit while keeping his hands restrained takes time, but Angel seems familiar with process. As soon as that's finished, he manhandles Atom to the cockpit and secures him to the passenger seat. Then he retreats to his own ship and undocks.
With only Maverick in his immediate vicinity, the odds start to look much better. Maverick doesn't spare him a glance before commencing moonfall. Atom watches the desolate rock grow closer in the reflection of Maverick's visor and feels his nerves jitter in anticipation.
The landing is quick, and smooth. When the ship at last falls quiet, Maverick takes the ID card still embedded into the console—Yosef's card—and snaps it in half. Then his hands are on Atom. Freeing him from his shacklement to the chair.
With his hands bound, and his leg uncooperative, he struggles to stand from the chair. Maverick helps him up and steers him to the airlock. Atom leans heavily on his metal leg while Maverick finishes gathering supplies. With the exception of an additional patch on his right arm to signify his rank, his suit is identical to Atom's. Mentally he checks off all possible weak points.
Coming to join him at the door, Maverick gives him a brisk look. "Suit check?" He prompts.
"All good." Atom answers.
Unlatching the airlock, Maverick gives it a slight shove and lets it swing open of its own accord. "You will not be returning to this ship." He says this as if it were a comment on the weather.
"What happened to me having a second chance if I told you about the device?"
"That was a lie, of course."
"Of course."
"So where is it?"
Atom turns and looks outside for the first time. A calm falls over him. The two of them will leave this ship, and only one will return.
He feels unbalanced without a sword at his hip, but he would manage. He would have to, somehow.
"It's underground. Buried." Says Atom.
"Where?"
"You know I can't tell you. I'll have to show you. I suggest you bring a shovel."
Maverick disappears briefly and comes back with a shovel. With it, he motions for Atom to exit the ship.
"Lead the way."
"I need my hands, to navigate."
"Not yet you don't. Get off the ship."
Atom eyes the drop. "You want me to jump?"
"Do you want me to carry you?"
Atom walks to the edge and steps off. The gravity here is less than the gravity on Earth, but he still stumbles the landing. Soft gritty sand catches him though, and he quickly scans his surroundings while Maverick climbs down the ladder behind him.
To his right a sun-star burns several times smaller than the sun seen from Earth. A blue-white speck smaller than his thumbnail. In front of him is a wide purple-gray-blue expanse of virgin rock and sand, never before touched by a living being. The horizon is a black line blurred by dust and ice particles hanging low in the air. Night above, rock below, and a dust storm all around. Nothing too interesting.
But to his left is a subtle variation in the scenery. A small rock jutting out of the surface, some dozen yards away.
"That's the first landmark." Says Atom, and he starts walking. Maverick follows close behind. A menacing presence digging into his spine. A knife that would not be twisted free until Atom was in the stars again. Alone.
"How do you know that's the right rock?" Asks Maverick, reasonably.
"It's the only rock. I'll be able to locate it on your map, and use it to figure out where to go from there." He flexes his fingers behind his back for Maverick to see. "I need to use your slab."
"You'll get it. For now, keep walking."
The sand sinks with each step. A low wind picks up as they move further from the ship. Churning the dust at their feet into an ocean of movement. Once at the rock, Atom hopes Maverick doesn't decide to stab him on the spot. But instead he feels a tug on his handcuffs, followed by a click, and then his hands are free. He brings them to his front, slowly, flexing out his stiffness.
Maverick holds out the slab for him to take. Atom accepts it and pulls up the directory of planetary charts. Novo sits at the top of the list, having been Maverick's most recently accessed.
He stares at the barren landscape displayed on the screen unseeing. At last he points at a spot on the map at random.
"We go here."
"That's where it's buried?"
"Nearly."
Maverick extends his arm for the slab. "Go, then."
"You won't cuff me again?"
"Do I need to?"
"Of course not. You have the shovel, and I'm bare handed. I won't try anything yet."
The rest of the walk is tense. Atom discreetly tries to scan the stars above for any sign of Angel's ship but finds no sign of it. When they reach the allocated spot, Maverick draws his sword, and passes the shovel to Atom. Obediently, Atom begins to dig. Sand gives way to clay, and his motions become more labored.
It’s now or never.
He plunges the shovel into the ground one last time, and when it comes back up he keeps swinging, up and around and into Maverick's sword.
It begins with a dull clang, the sound further muffled by their suits. Maverick is ready for it, and jumps back, holding his sword in a defensive position. Atom doesn't look at it. He swings the shovel with all his strength into Maverick's helmet, and throws his own body immediately after, barreling into Maverick with all his weight.
The two of them fall and Maverick tries to roll on top. He finds a grip on Atom's thigh— his empty knife holster— and yanks while twisting his hips to buck Atom onto his back. His thighs spread across Atom's torso. Atom manages to plant two hard jabs into Maverick's crotch before his wrists are wrenched above his head.
Atom thrashes. Maverick makes no move to retrieve his sword.
Existence shrinks to this moment. Atom catches his breath and almost laughs.
If Maverick was acting to kill, Atom would be dead by now. He sees this he inhales this he seethes with this fact. And while Maverick fumbles for the handcuffs Atom unlocks his right glove and tears it free.
A concealed knife is in his palm before Maverick can regain a grip on Atom's wrists. Atom's body feels the cold sink its teeth through his thin underglove and into flesh. He sees only the motion of his action, the arc of his arm as it meets its target. The knife sinks into Maverick's injured shoulder, angled inward, toward his throat. Maverick twitches and clasps both hands around Atom's exposed arm.
Atom watches his face through the glass of his suit. Watches his quick shallow breaths. His golden eyes haloed by white.
"A dead man is the most dangerous man, for he has nothing to lose and everything to gain." Says Atom.
Maverick blinks. His quiet words rasp into Atom's head without urgency. "What is there to gain for you?" Blood runs freely from their point of contact. It slides down Maverick’s water-resistant suit and stains only the sand beneath them. "Oblivion is all that waits at the end of this road."
"This is the only path to Unity."
"Atom," Blood runs from his red lips. "There is always... another... Atom—"
Atom doesn't feel it when Maverick's hands finally fall limp and release him. He yanks the knife free from Maverick's neck. He crawls to his discarded glove and yanks it back over his numb arm. He turns up the temperature of his suit. He picks up Maverick's sword, and slab. He looks up.
The storm has gotten much worse, and Atom has to rely entirely on the map to find his way back to the ship. But as he approaches he sees two sets of lights breaking through the dust storm.
Angel. He must have come down of his own volition. Or maybe it was their plan all along.
He sees the shape of him standing in the doorway to Atom's ship. He doesn't bother sheathing the sword. He knows Angel sees him as he enters the ship's halo of floodlights, sees Angel looking down on him. But Angel says nothing, and doesn't move a muscle. His silhouette stands there, and watches.
Then, a crackle comes over the short-range radio in his helmet. Atom tenses.
"Captain? Are you out there?" It's Angel. "This storm came out of nowhere, can't see a damn thing." Hard voice mixed with static and worry. "If you can hear me, say something."
Sweat builds on the back of Atom's neck. His eyes stay stuck to the figure in the doorway and sourness churns in his stomach.
"Come in, Captain. If you can hear me, let it be known." A long pause fills with the sound of Atom's heartbeat drumming, rolling, picking up speed. "I'm not catching your location signal. If you're saying something, I can't hear you. I'm going to exit the ship and look for you."
The blood in Atom's ears reaches its crescendo. He barely hears Angel's next words.
"I'm exiting the ship now."
The dark shape in the doorway of Atom's ship does not move from its place. A light erupts in Atom's peripheral. It comes from the direction of Angel's ship. His head turns, slowly. And he sees Angel exit his ship, flashlight in hand.
Angel reaches the ground and swings his flashlight in a circle around him. It passes over Atom, and snaps back to him a second later.
"Is that you, Captain?"
Atom's legs kick into motion. Angel watches him approach, and slowly reaches for his own weapon. A short, curved sword.
Atom raises Maverick's heavy blunt blade with his left hand and swings.
Angel puts up a good fight. But Atom is smaller, faster. The sword dives straight through his heart. A clean kill. Angel's body falls at Atom's feet, arms thrown wide to either side. Atom plants his boot on Angel's chest and pries the sword free. Then he turns around.
The figure has climbed down the ladder and now stands in the ship's floodlights. White suit, gold visor. Atom sees himself in the reflection, wielding a bloody sword, death in his shadow.
For a second, the wind picks up and the dust clears. It swirls in a perfect circle, domeing them in clarity. The stranger moves. A single step toward Atom and the dome breaks. Dust instantly rushes in to fill the emptiness.
Atom brandishes the blade. It does not waver in the strength of the storm.
The stranger comes to Atom with empty hands. It moves slowly, but when it finally stops at the tip of Atom's outstretched sword it is much too quick.
It reaches for its helmet and flips up both latches--
—and all Atom sees is darkness. And the darkness moves. It pours and ripples, unfurling to uncover darker shadows still. Churning over itself. Roiling and dripping. And with a swift single curtain it blankets Atom in a heavy calm.
Winter slices his tongue. Cold water slides down his throat in gulps. A million snowdrops prick his skin. Ice coats his lungs, and is thawed by firewood. Cedar sap and burning pine fills his nose. His body shakes with vehemence and when he opens his eyes Atom sees his hometown.
It's January, and he's chopping firewood. His arms are raised mid swing. His dog, Snegurichka, is barking. The sky is black. It's midday. The sun skims just under the horizon. Atom puts down the ax. He's sweating profusely. He calls out to Snegurichka, to calm her, but his voice falls silent. In fact he isn't breathing. Snegurichka continues to bark at something she sees on the road to their house. Explosions of sound in repetition. Atom follows her line of sight to a figure standing motionless in the middle of the path. It glows in the light of the moon, in a brilliant snow-bleached suit.
When Atom next opens his eyes, the world is pure white.
He jolts, and vague shapes snap into focus. A small room surrounds him, brightly lit. An infirmary. On a ship, if the lack of gravity is anything to go by.
Atom takes off his right glove and flexes his hand. It moves, albeit stiffly. But he won't be needing to cut it off, so he wrestles off his helmet and his other bulky glove and kicks toward the door, propelling through it. Slicing down the corridor in a straight line to the front of the ship, with knife in fist.
Tearing through the final doorway he nearly forgets to stop and catches himself on the edge of the control room before he crashes into The Stranger.
It sits in the pilot seat.
The sweat on Atom's neck returns. His hair rises, every follicle shifting in the presence of the stranger. Tilting towards it, seeking.
Bending in prayer.
A wail rises deep in his throat. Atom chokes it, but the thing hears him, and turns its head. The reflective visor reveals none of the horrors lurking beneath it.
"Who are you?" Asks Atom. The stranger does not answer.
"Did Commander Solarius send you? Are you part of—" He gestures erratically. "This?"
No response.
"Are you going to talk?" He asks, "Can you talk?"
Without making a sound The Stranger unlatches from the seat and floats around it to face Atom. In the hard cold light of the ship's interior there is no hiding from it. And it, cannot hide, from Atom. There is only the hard edges of its form. Visual truth.
From head to toe it wears an astronaut suit identical to Atom's. Except stretched across its chest is an old, threadbare nametag. White letters on faded blue.
:: Robby Monroe ::
Atom points at it with his knife. "Is that your name? Robby?"
The thing—Robby—doesn't move. But Atom watches as its limbs sway like waves. Disjointed. Subtle. Don't look and you'll miss it.
"What are you?" He insists, getting louder.
And maybe it's Atom's voice, or the knife aimed at Robby's chest, that prompts it—him—to raise his arms. Robby raises his hands slowly to the latches on his helmet and that’s when Atom lunges, kicking off the doorway for momentum.
He shoves his knife into the center of Robby's chest. The metal slides in with little resistance, not unlike stabbing a pillow. Atom withdraws it, trying to retreat back in the narrow space, as black spidery smoke shoots out of the hole in the suit. The substance juts out in every direction in sharp black spikes, and then expands, softening, changing into a fine mist and then contracting back together into a ball of sharp edges. Back and forth. Pulsating.
"What—the hell—"
Slowly, the substance wriggles back through the hole from which it came and Robby places one of his hands over it.
The two of them hang, suspended and frozen on opposite sides of the room, for an eternity.
Atom slides his knife, entirely clean, into his thigh holster and creeps over to a first aid panel in the wall to his right. He unlatches the lid and digs out a roll of duct tape. Tearing off a wide strip, Atom moves forward. When he reaches Robby, his hands begin to shake again. When Atom touches Robby's hand, the one covering the wound, he elicits no reaction. Glove to glove, he hooks his fingers around Robby's and tugs.
The shadows immediately threaten to bubble out but Atom seals the tear with his duct tape before anything has the chance to escape. Then he retreats.
"Sorry," He says. "But don't— Whatever that is, I don't want to see it. I don't want it anywhere near me."
Stiffly Robby hovers before him and says nothing.
"Shit, if you can't talk, can you at least understand me? You're using my ship," He gestures to the control panel behind Robby. "You got us off the ground and back into space and we haven't blown up. So can you hear me, or not? Do you know what I'm saying?"
The top half of Robby's body bends forward and straightens out again, three times.
"Okay... that's a start. Okay. Where are we headed?" He tries.
Robby raises a finger to the duct tape on his chest and Atom has his knife in his hand in the next second. Robby drops his hand and turns halfway to show Atom the coordinates on the control panel.
The room shifts and an iron calmness befalls Atom.
"I don't know where that is. Listen, I have a job to do. I have to get to the center of the galaxy, this galaxy. And I can't let you get in the way of that."
Robby points again to the coordinates. Atom takes a deep breath. "This is my ship," He says. "I need you to step aside and let me fulfill my duty."
But Robby shakes his head, no, and moves closer to the pilot seat. Atom raises his knife and immediately regrets it when Robby pops his helmet. Sour sweat breaks out across Atom's body as that awful depthless abyssal darkness swarms out to consume him.
It permeates through his skin and Atom chokes on it, tries to fight the weight of it, tries to swim free and goes blind with the effort. It clouds his skull and poisons his bloodstream, buries him in a place so dark his bones weep against the suffocating pressure.
His lungs still scream in agony when he wakes some time later. He comes back to himself with pure clarity, and finds his body still floating in the pilot room. Somehow, still alive. And uninjured.
As his burning eyes fall on the stranger seated in the pilot seat Atom sheathes his knife for good.
"Let's make a deal," He rasps. "Let me get to where I need to go, and then this ship is all yours. I don't care where you take it or what you do with it. I don't need it to get home. This was meant to be a one-way trip from the start. Just take me to the center of the Milky Way. Please."
Robby turns to regard him.
"I won't try to hurt you again, either." He adds. At this, Robby extends a hand towards him. Cautiously Atom clasps it and gives it a firm shake. "Deal?"
Robby nods his head. Yes.
Atom sighs and eases into the passenger seat. He runs off the coordinates of his destination and watches carefully as Robby types them into the computer. Above the keyboard Atom spots his own ID card sticking out of the console. That answers one question. But Atom still doesn't understand the familiarity and ease with which Robby steers the ship back onto its previous course.
So he asks the obvious question, "Are you from Earth?"
Robby shakes his head. No.
"Are you from the research facility? Base Violet? That's where you got on my ship, right? I saw you in the hallway, thought it was just my imagination. Couldn't have imagined you were something like this, though. Whatever you are. Did they create you?"
No.
"This place you're trying to get to... is that where you're from?"
Yes.
"And what are you?"
He makes a hand symbol. Wraps one fist around the other. Then, Hooks his thumbs together and spreads his fingers outward. Puts one hand on his own chest and rests the other on Atom's chest. Solid contact.
It isn't any sign language Atom recognizes.
Shaking his head, Atom sits back and rubs at his throat. For all his stillness Robby might as well be a statue seated across from him.
Could this be space madness? After all these years, has it finally caught up with him? It isn't unheard of. And Atom doesn't immediately rule it out as a possibility. But isn't the recognition of madness itself a sign of sanity? And the frostbite coating his airway is pretty convincing evidence of this creature's existence.
Atom rubs his eyes and redirects his thoughts.
All that matters is completing the mission. If this stranger wants to catch a ride with him, that's fine. But the moment he becomes a nuisance Atom will get rid of him. Somehow. If he can't kill the thing, leaving it deserted on some nameless rock in space will be the next best course of action.
But why wait for something to go wrong? Why not free himself from this cargo as soon as possible? All he has to do is wait for Robby to leave the cockpit. He can't sit there forever, right? Then all Atom has to do is land on the nearest space rock big enough to hold their weight and make up some story about maintenance, maybe even fake a gas leak, anything to get Robby off the ship.
Having him gone will be one less factor to keep track of. One less headache. So Atom settles down, and waits.