The Forsaken Empire (The Endervar War Book 2) (36 page)

Arendi felt her pain. I’m sorry, she said, trying to find some way to help.

But for now, all she could do was hold on.

***

It was hours later, and Farcia felt heavy. The pain had crawled away, but the exhaustion had settled into her muscles and bones. She was conscious again, and she blinked. Her body felt almost afloat.

The warm liquid was all around her, swishing around in her ear. The water and nutrients were filling her gills. She breathed in an almost natural but altered state. The hibernation chamber was attempting to feed and sustain her. Farcia smacked her hands on the glass, nearly panicking. Through the transparent tube, she saw Arendi on the other end.

The Savior was there, but she was looking at several holograms. Farcia saw the shapes floating in the air. She pounded the glass. She wanted out.

The hibernation chamber reacted in automatic fashion. The vents below sucked the water away.

Farcia gasped as she planted her feet on the chamber floor. She was clothed in a skin-tight medical suit. A powerful fan blew over her body. It orbited the interior of the circular tube, emitting heat from head to toe. Farcia heard the jet of air and cringed.

Finally, the door to the chamber opened. She stepped out, nearly staggering. Liquid dripped under her feet.

Arendi caught her by the arm. How do you feel? she asked.

Farcia felt dry. Clean, but mostly dry and withered.

Her tears were gone. The skin around her eyes was faded and gray. She walked the floor, sapped. The white hair over her back was a fluff of curls. She didn’t care to respond, however. She flung out her arm, pushing Arendi away.

Taking another step, Farcia found herself in a room. It was clean and white, walled off into compartments with flat beds. She guessed it was a medical bay of sorts, designed to nurse and heal.

You were falling in and out of consciousness, Arendi said. I’m still not sure what’s wrong.

Farcia clutched her belly and retreated to the side of the wall. She squinted into the bright lights and shook off the glare.

Why do you care? she muttered.

Farcia scowled in her own way. Her eyes were barely open but starting to bleed contempt. She crossed her arms, feeling her own skin and the prison of this body. It was wrinkled and weak, discolored like chalk, but still here.

Why? she asked again. Why keep me alive?

Farcia looked up to the ceiling, thinking of the juggernaut and all it contained. The truth and its pain was all here as well. You have what you want, Farcia added, gesturing toward the surrounding bulkhead. With another few steps, she drifted away to a corner of the room.

Arendi followed. She didn’t care for the friction between them or for Farcia’s derision. Her motives were simple.

You need to live, she said. You’re the last of your kind.

Farcia heard this, rubbing her neck. Although her clothes were off, so was the security collar. The metal brace had been tossed aside. She wanted to laugh, still in contempt.

You pity me, don’t you? she sneered. Even though I’m a killer. A murderer, just like you.

Farcia spoke her version of the truth, hoping it would hurt. She was aware of the knife in her words, wanting to stab again and again.

Now you will always know what you did. We’ve both committed sins. Justify it however you want. But my universe is dead, while yours lives.

Farcia trembled. Her eyes were growing sharp and wide.

Am I wrong? she asked. Should I not despise you? Condemn you for everything?

Farcia stared at Arendi, wanting only to blame. Her motive was just as simple. She sought to hate. It was all that was left. Everything else was dead. Raw emotions told her so. She needed to damn and disgrace.

To her, this war was never over. If anything, it needed to escalate. This whole galaxy, and especially the Alliance, needed to pay and suffer. Too many of her own people had died in the destruction. Farcia could never simply move on and forget. The crude anger inside demanded justice, or at least retribution. She needed to exact punishment.

Now you know why why I killed so many.

It was vengeance. Blind revenge. It was both senseless and vile. But Farcia had committed the atrocity. She had done it willingly, pushing away the remorse. Not even the innocent had been spared.

A chill came over her hands. She spoke, nearly breathless. Her mind was racing through the violence, only to slow and stumble into a pit of doubt. Farcia leaned back against the wall. Slowly, she slipped to the floor, cradling her knees against her chest.

But you didn’t even know my people, Farcia eventually murmured. My people you wouldn’t even be able to imagine them.

She felt nothing. Even the hatred was starting to escape her grasp.

Abandoned I am, she whispered. A relic

Farcia was out of place. She sat in the corner of the room, nestling in a shadow, wanting to evade the light.

It wasn’t always like this, she said. For a time, I traveled the galaxy, trying to find others. Others like me those who made the transfer. Who migrated.

Farcia recalled the search. It had lasted for years. Over ten or fifteen, in fact.

I went to so many places, expanding my mind, trying to reach whoever might be there. But there was nothing. Only bits and pieces. There was no one quite like me. I was the only one the only one who remembered everything.

Her lonely gaze searched the floor. No matter where she traveled, every effort had been useless.

In the end, there was only Red. He was the only one who ever cared. And I killed him.

She was desperate. Insane. A freak of nature. There were so many words and phrases to describe herself. Farcia had heard them all. She hugged her legs tighter, sensing only doom.

Revenge, she thought. Hatred. What had they ever done?

Farcia winced, finding only emptiness inside.

I’ve lost everything. I have nothing.

Arendi listened. Then she sat down in front of Farcia. She realized that maybe she, in a way, felt the same way.

You’re not the only one to have lost something, Arendi said.

As the Savior sat down, Farcia turned and looked past Arendi to the hologram floating in the room. It showed the experiment from all those years ago. Only this time, it showed the project’s ultimate fate.

So you know the truth, Farcia said. About the Captain. Captain Nverson.

Yes. I saw the file.

The Savior took a deep breath. Her voice cracked.

The Alliance strike force, Arendi went on. He was a part of it. The fleet destroyed the experiment. Destabilized the whole process. They attacked, believing it to be a threat.

And now they’re gone, Farcia said. Consumed in the destruction

She said the words hesitantly. She was slow and inexact.

I know, Arendi said. I know.

She ran out of breath and looked off, rummaging for some condolence.

He died fighting for what he believed in, Arendi eventually said. It’s what I expected. It was war.

She pursed her lips, then brushed the front of her hair, thinking and reminiscing. Oddly, she was calm and collected, in spite of what she knew or thought to be true.

Then Arendi smiled. It was sad, but there. The nostalgia offered a brief illusion of comfort. She closed her eyes, wanting to remember.

I wish I could see Julian one more time.

Of course, the warm feelings didn’t last. The memory turned sour as the reality returned and sank in.

He left twenty-one years ago. It was so long ago, Arendi said, trying to find some solace. I always assumed he’d return. But he never did. I even went to search for him, but I found nothing. We weren’t even looking in the right sector. After that, things were never quite the same again. I was lost. It was hard.

Arendi squeezed her right hand. She could feel the anger, too. It was easy to mourn and regret. For a long time, she did.

But eventually I had to move on, she added. I had to. It’s what he would have wanted.

Her fists were briefly tight heavy and hammerlike. Then she let go and vented a sigh. She straightened her collar and opened her eyes. She hadn’t always been like this, either, she realized. Once, Arendi had just been a machine. Immature, fractured, and lost. But the android of thirty years ago had become something more.

Things have changed, Arendi said. But still, I won’t forget him. Or that time.

Farcia listened, raising her gaze. She brushed the hair from her eyes and had to admit that she understood.

She wanted to hate the Savior. But for once, she didn’t feel it.

You’re right, Arendi said. I didn’t know your people. But that doesn’t mean I’m not sorry. I am. I’m sorry for everything, she added. The wars. The fighting. I’ve had enough. The Savior then moved closer and huddled her feet and legs next to Farcia’s.

Tell me your story, Arendi said. Tell me about your people. Tell me about who they were.

Chapter 37

Arendi tried to focus. She didn’t wish to waver. There was still a mission to undertake, and the threat was grave.

Her chief concern was reestablishing contact with the Adamant and salvaging all the data inside the juggernaut. So she entered the vessel’s bridge, trying to work. Arendi could already feel the cold computer in her mind starting to take over. Her artificial systems were fully engaged. A wave of code was streaming from her machine brain and into the juggernaut’s computing core.

It was all emotionless, absent of any organic thought. The whole process was entirely automatic and drone like. Her mind was issuing a hundred and then a thousand commands all at once. The data replicated and launched, following robot logic.

Arendi forced herself to stop. Her machine nature came to a halt. She tried to focus and press on. But she couldn’t. The icy chill in her thoughts was too much to bear.

She stood alone on the bridge and recalled the words. They died. All of them. My world. My universe. That’s how it ended.

Farcia had told her this moments ago. She had even asked Arendi to imagine it: a place almost fourteen billion light-years away. It was hard for her to see or envision such a thing. But still she tried, listening to Farcia’s every word.

For us, things were shifting. It happened so fast

In her universe, time and space operated by very different physical laws. The fabric of reality itself was alien nearly beyond known existence. Life itself eschewed any bodily form. But to Farcia, the place was home. It was, as she phrased it, the true home, populated by billions, if not more.

Then everything changed.

I was just a child when your universe emerged, she said. At the time, your world was just a tiny halo in our sky.

Arendi remembered the motion Farcia made with her hands. The woman had placed her finger in a puddle of water next to her feet and swirled it. For now, it was all she could show; her words and physical gestures would have to suffice.

As for us, Farcia went on. We lived in a static universe. A world of energy, but finite energy. Small, even by your standards. There was only one race, one civilization. For a long time it was this way: unchanging. Only then did we begin to dream. To dream of something more.

Arendi squinted. Dream? she asked.

She didn’t quite understand it. The act was something she herself could only mimic.

Farcia put it bluntly. We were gods.

We were both advanced and ancient. Far beyond your era. At our height, we could even command space and reality itself.

The woman’s lone finger had continued to draw a circle but now stopped.

But then it was over. One day, your universe emerged and collided with ours. At first, we were amused. This was something new. But very quickly it started to grow. In a flash, your realm filled our sky. Then it began to consume.

We tried to seal it off, Farcia said. She touched the puddle in an attempt to grasp and hold the tiny bits of pond. As she felt the moisture, her voice turned annoyed.

You had suddenly become this nuisance. This mess, she said, brushing the puddle away with flick. In fact, we had the chance. We could have extinguished your universe. Crushed you in your infancy. Destroyed you, right there.

Her fingers then clasped hard into a fist. Her hand almost pounded the floor, angry.

But no we couldn’t, she added. Farcia stopped short of hitting the puddle at her feet. She was distraught, but relented. Her weakened fist fell into her other hand.

We realized your universe was alive. It was life itself, she added. We saw the signs of civilization. The potential. The more your universe grew, the more life emerged. 

If only it hadn’t come at the expense of us. You grew, eating away at my universe, piece by piece. Then, eventually, we merged.

She made the motion with her hands, and clapped. Your universe, young as it was, killed most of mine, then absorbed the rest. Sent what remained of my world into a dimension parallel to yours. But even there, we weren’t safe. We lurked in the shadows while your universe continued to grow, obliterating what was left of us.

Her fingers then laced together and touched, and she felt the skin over her hands. She did it delicately, as though the sensation were entirely new.

It was strange. From our realm, we could feel and even hear you, she said. This new universe and the life inside were evolving. Your galaxy, especially.

Farcia looked up to the ceiling, imagining herself staring into a new world. It had once been a bizarre and jarring sight. The very laws and sense of time were at odds with those of the old.

It was dreamlike, she explained. So much of it was vague and undefined, there were only questions. This new sense of infinity. This new unknown. The frontier.

What were you? she asked. What did your existence even mean? We could only watch from a distance. Time in your world moved so much faster. We struggled even to understand.

Farcia sat there, empty. For decades now, she had been inside this enigma this new universe and still she had no answer.

All we knew was that we had to act, she said. If left unchecked, the vacuum of your universe would inevitably have consumed us. The energy sustaining us drained with every moment. Many of us believed we needed to migrate. Others sought to try to control you. But then there were those who demanded your destruction, she added. Even if it meant genocide the death of trillions. They were convinced that your universe wasn’t real. That you were inferior, or some form of virtual life. Not worth saving. Maybe not even real.