She Who Waits was out of sight in the shuttle’s front compartment. She had remained in the Cordice hospital bed the obedient bots had brought over. The shuttle’s systems were busy as they began to pull g’s. A whisper-quiet manufacturing printer was creating a new shell for She Who Waits identical to the one that had been destroyed by the Primary Executive’s bomb.
Once the ship’s acceleration eased, Carmen rose to wash her face. No towel, so she settled for drying herself on her sweatshirt.
“Are you there?” she asked.
The red light blossomed above the small pedestal at the front of the shuttle’s compartment. “What do you require?”
“Nothing. I want to know how you’re doing.”
“I am able to perform my task. We can communicate with the Melded or the Cordice. I can advise best communication practices with both.”
“Later. I’m going to reconnect soon and be with Jenna. But you were hurt.”
“I am recovering. The rupture to my shell caused momentary blood flow disruption. My circulatory system stopped momentarily.”
“You had a heart attack?”
“My organs are dispersed throughout my body. None can be classified as a heart. But the analogy is accurate to a degree. Do you have cause for concern over my health? If I am disabled my automated systems will care for your translation needs and will continue to process data for the Framework systems.”
Carmen let out a heavy breath. “Look, She Who Waits, I’m just worried about you. That’s it. It’s not because of your job. You got hurt and maybe almost died because of my mom. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
If the Dragoman got the sense of the apology, Carmen didn’t know. Maybe there’d be time later to talk more. Carmen returned to the crash couch and reconnected to the harvester. Tried to quiet her mind, which was racing about what might happen next.
Getting Jenna home was a detour.
Carmen loved her sister and would die for her. But she understood that there was more at stake than a family reunion with her mom. Sylvia Vincent’s actions were logical, if Carmen could separate out the emotional reflex that made her want to contradict anything her mom might say.
An unknown enemy had struck their planet. The alien races who had survived possessed knowledge that humanity needed. She couldn’t leave this behind. Her mother would soon be the first human to meet the rest of the surviving aliens who had taken refuge in their system. Carmen needed to be there too.
The Framework.
For the moment it was nothing more than a distant blip on her sensors. She had a hard time imagining what it was, except a collection of wrecked spaceships belonging to the handful of survivors who had come together after the Big Wipe. They assisted one another. But they were divided as well.
The Melded wanted to strike out and fight back, willing to risk anything in acquiring the tools to meet their goals. The Cordice were content to run and hide across the chasm of space to a fresh galaxy where they hoped the enemy wouldn’t follow. Judging by the state of their home ship, Carmen thought this was an attempt at a quiet suicide. Meanwhile most of the other marooned, from what she had pieced together, just wanted to do what they had to do to get by, be it hide or continue to move from star system to star system.
Earth had none of these options.
She needed to go to this Framework and wanted to believe she was motivated by the thought she might learn something which could make a difference to her world.
But that was also where her mom was going. She had lost her once and wouldn’t lose her again. Carmen would follow.
Even as the harvester sped towards Earth, She Who Waits’ shuttle was heading in the opposite direction towards the Framework with Carmen’s body on board. She would log into the harvester one last time to deliver her sister before disconnecting and yielding the ship to the Cordice.
That was the plan, anyway.
“Tell me two truths and a lie,” Carmen whispered.
She Who Waits responded after a moment. “I don’t understand the inquiry.”
“Just a stupid game. Never mind.”
Carmen had never graduated and hadn’t even earned her associate’s degree. She’d guessed it wasn’t important enough that the hiring supervisor at the water treatment plant would bother checking. The applicant’s exam had been easy enough to cram for, and the fact she had been hired meant she hadn’t scored too poorly.
As far as her father, for one glorious summer he had toured with a onetime arena headliner past its prime whose guitarist had broken his hand. He’d played to thousands of middle-aged fans keeping the flame alive and had earned himself several more invites for session work.
And Mom really was an astronaut.
Now so was Carmen.
She doubted anyone would forget either of them once she brought her mom back home.
Epilogue
The shadow lurking at the edge of the circular chamber waited until Agent Barrett was once again asleep. It slid from the wall and, if Barrett had his eyes open, he would have registered it as an inky shimmer that caught the light illuminating the interior surface of the sphere.
It made no sound.
It watched Barrett for a moment, listening, smelling, getting a sense for what he was through the faint electrical signals between his cells.
A human. Unremarkable. Weak. Barely advanced enough in their development to warrant attention. How one of his kind had gained mastery over the harvester on which they were now passengers was beyond belief.
Perhaps Barrett
