existence had been carefully concealed from the Nefrem since the beginning of time. Within this system lay the garden—a miraculous world so very much like the lost Eireki home—which had been chosen to serve a new purpose. A noble purpose. On that planet, balance would be restored and the Eireki would rise anew. From the ashes would evolve a better, stronger Eireki, capable of defeating the Nefrem once and for all.
Wounded, tired and limping, she looked down on the radiant green and blue planet, and asked forgiveness for the crime she was about to commit. Within her, the golden codex fulfilled its purpose: it adapted countless gene sequences to an eons-long program, imprinted them onto a biomechanical seed and spat it at the peaceful planet below.
The seed struck hard, raising inky clouds across the globe. The destruction would bring about change and new growth, while the retroviruses it dispersed became the seeds of resurrection. It was done. Now she could sleep and dream and wait for the children of the Eireki to wake her. She could sleep for sixty-five million years.
Sixty-five million years.
“Sixty-five million years.”
“Marcus? He’s talking. Thank God.”
“You son of a bitch. I thought we lost you.”
She opened her eyes and tried to focus. She was confused, not sure of who or what she was. Then he knew. He knew precisely what was going on. He took a deep breath as the image came into focus, and he looked at the Eireki dressed in strange suits and helmets all around him.
Juliette St. Martin was hovering above him, giving him a thorough, almost frantic, examination. “He’s coming around. I want you to focus on me. That’s good. Tell me your name.”
There was a pressure on the side of his head. He reached up and found a device attached to his temple. It was hard and smooth, but warm. It belonged there.
Juliette’s eyes were full of concern. “Can you tell me who you are?”
After a moment, he smiled and said, “My name is Marcus Donovan, and I am Eireki.”
Chapter 16:
Legacy
“He’s delirious. St. Martin to Shackleton, prep the medical bay for surgery. Donovan’s been compromised by some kind of alien parasite. We’re en route now.”
“Roger that, Doctor. Preparation under way.”
Marcus was still sitting in the molded white seat, and he wasn’t sure how long he’d been out. His head was swimming like he’d just woken up from a fevered dream. Intense images and feelings flashed behind his eyes, but they were slowing down and coming less frequently. Meanwhile, Juliette was not-so-gently trying to pull him to his feet.
“Nonsense. Shackleton, belay that order,” he said, and pushed her away. “I’m fine.”
“Damn you, Marc, it’s in your brain!”
That should have bothered him more, and he knew it. Hell, he could hardly stand getting a flu inoculation, yet here he was with an alien machine plugged directly into his grey matter and it was all okay. The ship assured him it was perfectly safe and necessary.
“It’s okay, Juliette. It’s an interface, nothing more. It allows me to communicate with the ship.” He pulled up memories that weren’t his own, recollections of when the device was first designed and tested. The feeling was indescribably strange. “The interface was originally manufactured… errr, grown I guess, as an emergency fall back in case something interfered with telepathy. Our species has deficient receptor organs, so I needed it to make contact.”
“The ship told you this?” Rao asked.
“More or less.” The process felt completely intuitive, yet words were failing him. It was like trying to describe color to the blind. “I don’t hear voices or anything. I get ideas and feelings from her, and memories. Damn, the memories are something else.”
Part of the device wriggled inside his head, and he convulsed. The spasm was slight, like a nervous tick, but it was nonetheless unpleasant.
“Jeee-zus,” Faulkland said. “You’re a mess.”
Juliette pulled a hypodermic needle out of her pack. “If you won’t come willingly, we’ll take you by force. God only knows what that thing’s doing to you, Marc.” Two crewmen flanked her as she spoke.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Marcus said, and the ship agreed. A pair of ropey tendrils emerged from the ceiling and lowered towards the crewmen. He told the ship that wouldn’t be necessary, and the tendrils paused, then slowly receded. “Believe me when I say this: she’ll be very, very displeased if I’m sedated against my will, and we don’t want to make her angry. Just trust me a little, Juliette.” He gave her a reaffirming nod. “Trust me.”
Juliette’s brow furrowed and her jaw tightened as she considered Marcus’ plea. She finally waved the crewmen away and they stood down. “Fine. But I don’t like it.”
“Of course not. You’re a good doctor. I need you to keep an eye on this thing, alright? Check for signs of rejection. An adverse reaction could kill me.” He could feel that the ship liked Juliette, and he smirked. “So do I,” he accidentally said aloud.
Faulkland leaned over the circular railing with an unusually large smile on his face. He was loving every minute of this. “So, we should all get used to you being double extra crazy?”
“God, I hope not.” As if on cue, the device’s tendrils moved inside his skull again and he jerked. “Just need a little time to acclimate. How long was I out, anyway?”
Juliette had her medical probe drawn and was scanning the side of his head. “About thirty seconds from when it struck to when you started talking. You were in REM sleep.”
Marcus said, “Felt like days.”
The ship informed him that the battle he experienced took several days to complete. “I guess that makes sense,” he replied, then shook his head as he realized he was speaking aloud again. It was going to take some getting used to.
Juliette finished her examination with a sigh, and finally stepped back. “Everything seems alright. There’s a little bit of inflammation around the wounds, but nothing serious. Less than I’d expect, in fact. Let me know immediately if it starts to itch or burn.”
“Will do,” Marcus said with a sigh, glad to have a little space to breathe again. It was bad enough having someone new in his head, let alone being poked and prodded like a lab rat.
His gaze swept the rest of the room, and the place was now familiar, all except for the thirty-some-odd Eireki milling around in pressure suits. That was a little out of the ordinary. He called up memories of the room, and the ship responded with the different configurations it could assume. The variety was staggering. He selected one with an abundance of the molded seats, and the room shifted to accommodate. “Care to have a seat?”
The crew responded with understandable caution. The ship informed him that many were terrified and vividly imagined arms pinning them down and jamming bugs into their heads. He made a mental note about establishing some sort of privacy policy.
“At ease, folks. She’s not gonna bite. She won’t do anything to you against your will, and she’s frankly having enough trouble dealing with one of these things right now,” he said while tapping the device on his temple. “I called up the chairs because it’s awkward being the only person in a room sitting.”
No one sat down. Marcus stood instead and allowed the chairs to melt back into the floor.
Rao was staring at him, and looked to be a thousand leagues deep in thought. If he weren’t wearing a helmet, he’d undoubtedly be stroking his week-old beard.
“Question, Jay?”
“Too many to count. How about this… what the hell happened when you touched the generator?”
“She was asleep and had been for a very long time. When I touched the hollow-drive, it jumped to max output and woke her up. She flew into a panic, like waking up from a nightmare with your heart pounding.”
“If she was asleep,” Juliette asked, “how did the doors and tubes work?”
“Reflex. It’s by design. If she’s incapacitated, her crew would still be able to navigate the ship and escape if
