The engineer rose again. “We can’t go on arguing about this. But we have no consensus.”
A time shift. It had to be. How long had they argued without her?
“The harvester belongs to you,” Carmen said. “Why can’t I just give it back? One of you can take us home. Give someone on Earth a chance to help you and the Framework. We have smart people there.”
“Our discussion covered our options. If the harvester is returned, the war faction will not relent in their efforts to hand it over. The resulting disruption will be…uncomfortable.”
“Then show the Melded how to build their own. You make spaceships, don’t you? You must have the schematics saved. Make them available.”
The historian answered her. “The harvester is a product of one of our splinter colonies which had hundreds of years to perfect its design and production. Their star system was the last one our fleet visited. They had been destroyed. The harvester was found dormant where it had been undergoing post-production testing. While we recovered it, it would take many years to produce another like it.”
Carmen caught a note of gloom. “And you think the enemy will be back before that can happen.”
“It is a certainty.”
The engineer cocked his head. “It is a supposition. We don’t know. But the enemy has found us any time we linger. Thus our need to depart and bring all we can with us.”
“And what if Carmen Vincent doesn’t understand the consequences, dear spore brother?” the historian asked. “To red shift away means we leave those behind who won’t commit to uploading into the simulation. And we abandon those who would fight.”
“Each must make their choice. We help the ones we can. But we preserve those who are already with us. It is our duty.”
“I take it it’s not just a majority vote?” Carmen asked.
Neither answered. But then she noticed a red light appear next to the historian. It clicked at them and Carmen had no idea what was being said.
She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the med bay, to ignore the simulation around her in its perfect replication of reality. Found herself whispering, “I want to leave…let me go.”
In an instant she came to, her eyes taking a moment to make sense of what she was seeing: the hospital bed and the ceiling of the Cordice home ship. She sat up and disconnected.
She Who Waits’ bed remained sealed. The window was completely fogged by the gas. But a red light winked from the top of one of the two floating miniature blimp bots that lingered nearby.
“Who are you talking to?”
The second bot produced its own red light. “The Primary Executive. He is making another appeal to the Cordice.”
“Disconnect them.”
“It is my duty.”
“You almost died. The Melded were willing to hurt you to get what they wanted. Don’t you see? You have the power here. You can stop acting as go-between and translator unless they agree to certain rules. Rules you get to set.”
“My assignment is to facilitate communication.”
“I understand. But it needs to be between parties who won’t try to steal from each other and won’t clamp a bomb on you when they’re not happy with how things are going. Who are you sworn to serve?”
“She Who Rules tasked me with service to the Framework. There were to be twelve more of my kind. I was to learn at their side. But none made the rendezvous. And She Who Rules perished during the attack.”
“How many of your kind are left?”
“I am alone.”
Carmen tried to imagine it. She had endured stretches of isolation when feeling disconnected from her mom and dad, times when her sister was too busy, and she had her darkest year after her big breakup with the only serious boyfriend she had ever had.
But to lose everyone?
She Who Waits didn’t seem to be willing or able to enter the Cordice simulation. If the journey from their last checkpoint had been as long of a trip as indicated, She Who Waits had been without others of her kind or perhaps any other companionship for many years.
“I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t do much to comfort you. But no one should get to treat you like this. The Primary Executive attacked you. Your assignment isn’t to let him kill you, is it? You don’t owe him anything. There must be others on the Framework that would agree with this. Disconnect them.”
The red light vanished.
“And now, if you’re up for it, put me through to both of them.”
She received her two red lights.
“This is Carmen Vincent. I’m in control of the harvester. I wanted to give it back to its rightful owner, but that’s gotten complicated now that I know it’ll be given to the Melded. I came here for Sylvia Vincent. Mom, I hope you’re listening. You’re not well. The Cordice still have part of you inside their simulation. You need to go back to them and let them help you.”
The Primary Executive barked, “You child! You’ve caused great damage—”
“Stop. From what I can see, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed. If your decision is to go fight the enemy, then do so. But the harvester belongs to the Cordice. Until they have a consensus, I won’t surrender it so you can steal it.”
“By the merciful stars, your interference will cost us everything!”
“I’m not finished. You almost killed two people. I don’t know how justice works with you, or within your Framework, but I’m holding you responsible. You have one translator and you were willing to sacrifice her to get what you want. How many on the Framework are willing to let this slide?”
The red light pulsed, then went out.
