This Day All Gods Die Part 8

Davies blinked, but couldn't grasp what he was seeing. Apparently Vector wanted him to look at one of sickbay's status displays. Which one? What difference did it make?

"Davies Hyland," Vector drawled cheerfully, "my intense young friend, you are a genius. Or, as Angus will no doubt say when he gets the chance, a f.u.c.king genius."

"The EEG, Davies," Mikka urged quietly. She might have been on the edge of tears. "Look at his EEG."

Now Davies saw it.

Just moments ago that screen had been effectively blank; filled by the undifferentiated emission of Angus' zone implants. The sensors hadn't been able to penetrate the noise to detect any neural activity. But now a whole series of normal-looking waves and spikes scrolled along the EEG's band-widths.

"He's asleep," Vector explained before Davies could try to guess what the readings meant. "Not blank. Not in stasis. Sleeping." He consulted a readout, then went on, "This isn't exactly natural. These lines"-he indicated a few of the bandwidths-"are too regular. His zone implants are doing this to him. He needs time to heal. But he isn't blank," blank," Vector insisted. "His systems are on-line again. He'll probably wake up when his diagnostics say he's ready." Vector insisted. "His systems are on-line again. He'll probably wake up when his diagnostics say he's ready."

The geneticist grinned at his companions. "Maybe now we have something to hope for."

Without warning a visceral relief gripped Davies so hard that he doubled over as if he were cramping. Mikka croaked his name, but he wasn't able to respond. Pains he couldn't name locked down the muscles in his chest and abdomen, pulling him into a fetal knot. He'd been under too much strain for too long; living on pure adrenaline. Flesh had limits-even his enhanced metabolism had limits-and he'd pa.s.sed them long ago. Shocked by the sudden change in the stimulus of his neurotransmitters, his nerves went haywire, misfiring in all directions; clenching him into a ball. Adrift in zero g, he bobbed against the wall and bounced back as if he'd lost all ma.s.s; all substance.

"Davies!" Mikka snagged him by the arm, stopped his helpless motion. "What's the matter? What's wrong?"

If he could have opened his throat, he would have called Morn's name. But he couldn't speak; couldn't breathe- Vector didn't hesitate. "I'll get some cat." At once he started keying commands for the sickbay dispensary.

No! Davies wanted to protest. No drugs, no cat, don't give give me anything, that isn't what I need, you don't have to be afraid of me, me anything, that isn't what I need, you don't have to be afraid of me, I'm not like that! I'm not like that! Morn was the one who needed cat. To control her gap-sickness. So that she wouldn't try to kill them all. Morn was the one who needed cat. To control her gap-sickness. So that she wouldn't try to kill them all.

Closed in pain as if it were a womb, his image of himself shifted.

I'm not her her.

Here was the proof. When the universe spoke to Morn-when hard g pushed her flesh past its limits-she attempted self-destruct. Or she hurt herself in some way to deflect the impulse. But he had a completely different reaction. He became a killer of another kind altogether. Driven by his terror of the Amnion, and of their desire to use him against his entire species, he sent other people out to die. He hungered for murder, not suicide. And when his body was overwhelmed, he became a universe not of clarity but of pain: helpless as a convulsing epileptic.

He'd figured out how to bring Angus back from stasis.

And he was not not Morn. Morn.

That knowledge seemed to reach depths in him which it had never touched before. The hurt which cramped his muscles and sealed his lungs was his his, no one else's. It was his inability to distinguish himself from her.

He'd saved Angus.

He didn't want any G.o.dd.a.m.n cat.

Before Vector could reach him with a hypo, his chest and limbs began to unlock themselves.

"Vector, he's moving," Mikka announced unnecessarily.

Davies drew a long, shuddering breath. Bit by bit he unfolded himself. When he could turn his head, he did his best to nod at Vector and Mikka. "I'm all right." He hardly heard his own voice, but at least he was able to speak. "I don't need cat. I'm just-" Words couldn't convey what he wanted to say. I'm not Morn. That's important. "I just need sleep."

Vector studied him for a moment, glanced down at the hypo in his hands, then referred the question to Mikka.

"Don't look at me," she murmured wanly. With the heel of one hand, she pressed the bandage over her eye and the corner of her forehead tighter. Maybe she thought that would make her injuries hurt less. "We all need sleep. If he says he doesn't want cat, I say send him to bed."

Slowly Vector nodded.

"I'm going to do that myself," she went on. Her weariness was palpable. "As soon as I make sure Ciro hasn't gone back off the deep end." She sounded defensive as she added, "We might as well rest. We don't have anything better to do until Angus wakes up."

That was her brother's doing, but she seemed to feel responsible for it.

"You're probably right," Vector replied as if he thought she needed the acknowledgment. "Go ahead." He gestured at the console behind him. "I just want to run a few more tests, make sure he's all right."

Mikka nodded; turned toward the door. Then she stopped to put her hand on Davies' arm.

"Thank you," she said softly. When she looked straight at him, he could see that her good eye was full of loss. "As long as Angus can function, we have a chance. If you hadn't brought him back, I'm not sure I could live with what Ciro did to us."

Brusquely she opened the door and left.

When she was gone, Vector dropped his hypo into the sickbay disposal. With a nudge of his hip, he moved himself closer to the command keypad. But he didn't take his gaze off Davies.

A chance, Davies echoed to himself. Not long ago he'd been alone: alone on the bridge; alone with his failures. But now he'd recovered his father. If Morn could come back from the place where gap-sickness and her shattered arm had taken her, he might finally find it possible to be whole.

Drifting again, he swung around so that Vector wouldn't see the tears in his eyes.

Vector cleared his throat. "You're a growing boy," he remarked obscurely. "Give yourself a break. I can handle things here. Do what Mikka says-go to bed."

Sure. Go to bed.

Keeping his back to the geneticist, he pushed off from the surgical table and let himself out into the corridor running along Trumpet's Trumpet's core. core.

Moisture smeared his vision. He could hardly see where he was going.

As soon as the sickbay door closed behind him, he caught a handgrip and stopped. More than anything he needed sleep. Yet he was reluctant to return to his cabin. He'd been through too much recently. His limbs and back still ached from the strain of his seizure. If he found Morn asleep, he would be afraid for her. And if she was awake, he would be afraid of of her: afraid of what she'd become; afraid of her ability to pierce his heart. her: afraid of what she'd become; afraid of her ability to pierce his heart.

Before Trumpet's Trumpet's final escape from the black hole's g, she'd recovered consciousness briefly. final escape from the black hole's g, she'd recovered consciousness briefly. I can't do this again I can't do this again, she'd said to him. When I'm in trouble, the only thing I can think of is to hurt myself. When I'm in trouble, the only thing I can think of is to hurt myself. She'd let the singularity crush her right arm. She'd let the singularity crush her right arm. Self-destruct-I need a better answer Self-destruct-I need a better answer.

That made sense. Too often she'd driven herself to brutal extremes in an effort to keep him alive; keep him human. He didn't want to benefit from any more of her excruciation.

Nevertheless he didn't understand what she meant by a better answer. a better answer. What else could she have done? What else could she have done?

She'd gone too far beyond him. He couldn't imagine what she might have become.

Yet he'd found a way to rescue Angus from stasis. That steadied him. And by degrees the knowledge that he wasn't her her seemed to grow stronger. Maybe it would be strong enough to help him face her. seemed to grow stronger. Maybe it would be strong enough to help him face her.

He rubbed the back of his hand across his damp eyes, trying to clear them. Then he floated down the corridor in the direction of his cabin.

Morn blinked at him blearily as he entered, as if she'd been awakened by the sound of the door. At first she didn't appear to recognize him. After a moment, however, she murmured, "Davies." Her voice sounded rusty with disuse.

He shouldn't have tried to clean the blur off his vision. He didn't want to see her like this: pale as illness; her eyes like dark craters in the fragile landscape of her face. All her beauty had been whetted down to bone. In addition, her entire right arm was wrapped in an acrylic cast and strapped across her chest; but she may not have been aware of it yet.

The sight wrung him. He had a strange sense of dislocation-an impression that he was seeing Angus' handiwork, and Nick's, from the outside for the first time. Somehow being caught and misdefined by her memories had partially blinded him to the cost of her ordeals. Witnessed from inside, that price was at once more extreme and less tangible.

Fresh tears spread across his cheeks. Despite his new knowledge-or perhaps because of it-his muscles tightened again, trying to draw him back into a ball.

But he'd brought Angus out of stasis. That was one burden he no longer had to carry; one disaster he didn't have to explain. Surely he could stand the rest for a few more minutes?

He didn't try to hide what he was feeling from her. Hunched over as if he were bleeding internally, he slid to the edge of her bunk and sagged there beside her, anchoring himself with his fingers in the webbing of her g-sheath.

"Davies." With an effort, she swallowed to moisten her throat. "You're still alive. That's one good thing, anyway."

"So are you." Empathy and weariness hindered his voice; but he didn't care. "I'm glad. You were hurt so bad-I was afraid you might die-or we all would-before I got a chance to apologize."

Morn frowned weakly; swallowed again. "For what?" The drugs sickbay had given her were fading, but they still affected her, clogging her reactions, slowing her comprehension.

He was tempted to say, For letting Nick go kill himself. For sending Sib out to die. But those were secondary hurts between her and him; easier to talk about. Instead he told her roughly, "For not trusting you more. For saying all those nasty things to you."

I'm Bryony Hyland's daughter.

"Half the time I really can't tell the difference between us. It confuses me." Waves of pressure like little convulsions tightened his chest and belly, but this time they weren't strong enough to stop him. "And I didn't want to think about it. I didn't want to be as scared as I would be if I thought about it.

"So I told myself we had to go after Gutbuster Gutbuster because that was the right thing for cops to do. Punish her for her crimes. And I could tell you had qualms about it. You weren't backing me up. So I treated you like you were weak-like there was something wrong with you-because you didn't back me up. because that was the right thing for cops to do. Punish her for her crimes. And I could tell you had qualms about it. You weren't backing me up. So I treated you like you were weak-like there was something wrong with you-because you didn't back me up.

"But it didn't have to do with being a cop." Anger and failure roughened his tone as he explained. "It had to do with being terrified. Gutbuster Gutbuster was after was after me. me. She wanted to give me to the Amnion. And the Amnion want to use me to help them learn how to make themselves look just like human beings. She wanted to give me to the Amnion. And the Amnion want to use me to help them learn how to make themselves look just like human beings. That's That's why I wanted to kill her. why I wanted to kill her.

"You weren't being weak. You were thinking about larger questions. More important questions. Like whose game this is. Who's manipulating us now, and why. And what we can do about it.

"You didn't deserve the way I treated you."

Morn listened attentively until he was done. Her wounded gaze held his face. But after he finished she didn't respond directly. Instead she murmured in a thin voice, "You said was. Gutbuster was was. Gutbuster was after you. She after you. She wanted wanted to give you to the Amnion. What's changed? What's going on? Where are we?" to give you to the Amnion. What's changed? What's going on? Where are we?"

Maybe she was confused herself-by drugs; or by the gap in her awareness of what had happened. Or maybe she simply didn't realize that when he was separate from her he might not be sure of her forgiveness.

A wave of weariness seemed to break over his head. The muscles in his chest stopped clenching. He slumped on the edge of her bunk, shrinking into himself. Of course she wanted to know what she'd missed while she slept. He would feel the same in her place. Apologies weren't as important as survival.

For a moment he couldn't lift his head far enough above his fatigue to answer. But then he closed his eyes and found that if he concentrated just on speaking-if he didn't let himself look at her, witness her condition-he could go on a little longer.

"It's hard to describe," he breathed distantly; putting words together one at a time in the darkness of his head. "The good news is, we got away from Ma.s.sif-5. We're coasting out in the middle of nowhere." He'd seen the astrogation coordinates, but they meant nothing to him. "You saved us when you activated the helm failsafes. Otherwise we would have run into an asteroid. Or gotten sucked back into the black hole.

"Free Lunch was gone." Fuel for the weird energies of the singularity. "There was no sign of was gone." Fuel for the weird energies of the singularity. "There was no sign of Soar. Soar. Mikka took the helm for me, ran us out to the fringes of the swarm. When we got there, we found a major battle going on. A UMCP cruiser-must have been Mikka took the helm for me, ran us out to the fringes of the swarm. When we got there, we found a major battle going on. A UMCP cruiser-must have been Punisher Punisher-was blazing away at Calm Horizons. Calm Horizons. I still don't know how they found us. Or how I still don't know how they found us. Or how Soar Soar did. They aren't supposed to know how to follow a Cla.s.s-1 UMCP homing signal. But the Amnion are so desperate to stop us, they've committed an act of war." did. They aren't supposed to know how to follow a Cla.s.s-1 UMCP homing signal. But the Amnion are so desperate to stop us, they've committed an act of war."

"Wait a minute," Morn interrupted. She put her hand on his arm as if she thought he might not stop for her. "Did you say Calm Horizons? Calm Horizons? The same warship we got away from when we escaped Thanatos Minor?" The same warship we got away from when we escaped Thanatos Minor?"

Davies nodded without opening his eyes. He didn't know why she thought this was important. Surely the incursion was the crucial point, not the ident.i.ty of the intruder. But he didn't have the energy to ask for an explanation. His ability to tell his own story was too fragile.

Slumping deeper into the dark, he resumed, "Calm Horizons "Calm Horizons would have killed us." Like Bryony Hyland. "She had us on targ. We didn't have time to burn. We couldn't go into tach. Not even for a blink crossing. But would have killed us." Like Bryony Hyland. "She had us on targ. We didn't have time to burn. We couldn't go into tach. Not even for a blink crossing. But Soar Soar showed up again. She must have avoided the black hole somehow. Just when I thought we were dead, she opened fire on showed up again. She must have avoided the black hole somehow. Just when I thought we were dead, she opened fire on Calm Horizons." Calm Horizons."

He didn't try to understand Captain Chatelaine's actions. They were a mystery, like the attack by Free Lunch Free Lunch, or the ability of the Amnion to locate the gap scout; impenetrable. As incomprehensible as the oblique physics of the gap.

"Calm Horizons had to hit her instead of us, or else the warship would have been destroyed. The Amnion couldn't take the chance they might miss us with their last shot. had to hit her instead of us, or else the warship would have been destroyed. The Amnion couldn't take the chance they might miss us with their last shot.

"That gave us time. And Punisher Punisher was covering us. We burned like crazy. Then we went into tach. That brought us here." He shrugged weakly. "Wherever here is." was covering us. We burned like crazy. Then we went into tach. That brought us here." He shrugged weakly. "Wherever here is."

He expected Morn to ask why Soar Soar had turned against her masters; braced himself to say, "I have no idea," without sounding angry. But her attention remained focused on concerns he couldn't grasp. had turned against her masters; braced himself to say, "I have no idea," without sounding angry. But her attention remained focused on concerns he couldn't grasp.

As she climbed out of her long, drugged slumber, she recovered her urgency. Her grip on his arm tightened. In a sharper tone she demanded, "Did Punisher Punisher kill kill Calm Horizons?" Calm Horizons?"

He sighed. "I hope so." He didn't have the strength for this. He needed sleep, not more questions. "But we didn't see it. Calm Horizons Calm Horizons was hurt. was hurt. Soar Soar took her by surprise. took her by surprise. Punisher Punisher was starting to get through. Then we went into tach. I don't know what happened after that." was starting to get through. Then we went into tach. I don't know what happened after that."

Pulling on his arm, Morn raised herself to sit beside him. He felt her draw her legs out of the g-sheath and hook them over the edge of the bunk. Her shoulder and her grasp conveyed a palpable tension.

"Calm Horizons is too big," she murmured distantly, as if she were thinking aloud; trying to brace herself against a threat he couldn't see. Surely the Amnion couldn't track UMCP homing signals? "She has too much firepower. If is too big," she murmured distantly, as if she were thinking aloud; trying to brace herself against a threat he couldn't see. Surely the Amnion couldn't track UMCP homing signals? "She has too much firepower. If Punisher Punisher didn't kill her right away, she's probably still alive." didn't kill her right away, she's probably still alive."

Maybe not, Davies countered in silence. He was too weary to argue aloud. She was practically stationary. She doesn't accelerate fast. And Punisher Punisher must have called for help from VI. If more ships came-if they caught must have called for help from VI. If more ships came-if they caught Calm Horizons Calm Horizons before she could go into tach- before she could go into tach- He wanted to finish; needed needed to finish. After that he would be able to rest. For a moment he put his free hand over his eyes in an effort to increase the darkness so that he could concentrate. Then he continued. to finish. After that he would be able to rest. For a moment he put his free hand over his eyes in an effort to increase the darkness so that he could concentrate. Then he continued.

"Angus is still alive. G.o.d knows how he survived being outside in all that." He hadn't suffered any more g than anyone else. But he hadn't had the support of a g-seat or bunk. And he'd been exposed to all the forces of the singularity and the swarm. If nothing else, he could easily have been crushed by rock rushing to answer the black hole's hunger. "But Vector brought him in before we left the swarm. Sickbay says he's going to be all right.

"Other than that-"

His voice trailed away. He had more to relate; but now he needed her to ask him what it was. He didn't think he could go on unless she prompted him; pushed him.

Slowly she loosened the pressure of her grip on his forearm. He seemed to feel some of her tightness easing. Maybe at last she'd become enough aware of him to realize that he was near the end of his resources.

"What's the bad news?" she inquired more gently. "When people tell you what the good news is, there's always bad news."

Again he nodded blindly. He hardly heard himself speak.

"Ciro went haywire. I guess that mutagen made him crazy. Even though he was cured, he still thought he had to do what Sorus Chatelaine told him."

Morn shifted at Davies' side. She may have winced. Or she may have simply nodded. He didn't look to see.

"When Mikka came to help me on the bridge, Ciro left their cabin and found his way into the drive s.p.a.ce. He must have been in there when we burned-All that g with no protection banged him up pretty good. He's lucky he didn't break any bones.

"But it slowed him down. He took too long. That saved us. Before anything failed, we were able to go into tach, get away from Ma.s.sif-5."

Davies waited while a wave of fatigue nearly washed him out of himself. Then he went on.

"He took too long, but he did it right. We've lost both drives. That's why we're coasting. There's nothing else we can do. We still have navigational thrust, that's all. We can't even decelerate. And we sure as h.e.l.l can't cross the gap again.

"We haven't tried to rig any repairs yet," he added as if he were drifting. "Top busy taking care of our wounds." Too tired. "But I don't think we can do it." Or do it in time. "Without Angus, we can't get into the damage control databases. We don't know the codes. And his zone implants have put him to sleep so he can heal. At least that's Vector's theory. He won't wake up until they let him go."

Davies stopped. The hollow dark inside his head seemed louder than his voice, and for a moment he feared that he might start to whimper or moan without realizing it. But he probably didn't have the energy.

After a while he heard Morn ask, "Is that all? Is there anything else I need to know?"

He shook his head. Carried by its own momentum, his head continued rocking from side to side on his weak neck.

"Well, it's bad," she said judiciously, as if she wanted to comfort him by not panicking, "but we've had worse. I was afraid we were still in the swarm. Angus was dead, and we were stuck in the swarm because without him we couldn't escape."

She paused, then mused more to herself than to him, "I guess it's possible Calm Horizons Calm Horizons is finished. That would help." is finished. That would help."

To his surprise he found that he had enough strength left for a small pang of vexation. What was so important about Calm Horizons? Calm Horizons? Was that all she cared about? Didn't she understand the consequences of what Ciro had done? Was that all she cared about? Didn't she understand the consequences of what Ciro had done?

He opened his eyes so that he could glare at her.

"Before he went EVA," he rasped sourly, "Angus activated our homing signal again. None of us can get deep enough into the command systems to turn it off. Eventually someone will come after us." That was a safe bet. "Maybe Punisher. Punisher. Maybe some other UMCP ship, or one from VI. Maybe some other UMCP ship, or one from VI.