were left behind, where Mother’s fleet eventually got to them. We’ve been hiding in the Outer ever since your genocide spread this far.”
Zero slumped against the glass in realization. Stranger made no move to help him up this time, but stood behind him, arms crossed. Zero looked at the assembled black-robed men standing in formation on either side of the airlock, watching him. Silent. Expressions of such loss on their faces...
“No women. Mother’s fleet—”
“Your fleet, Zero. Of course, you never knew. Your Fleur never knew. You were just following orders. The virus killed them all, even after we escaped with half of the system under shield. The catalyst was at work even before the final seal was welded into place.”
“I never—”
“Come on.” Stranger motioned toward the open airlock and the shiver vessel beyond, embedded within miles of solid glass.
“Where are we going?”
“Heaven.”
Zero warily stepped through the airlock and into the confines of the shiver vessel’s passenger area, where two vacuum chairs sat behind the transparent front needle of the ship. Stranger took a seat, and motioned for Zero to do the same as the lock doors cycled shut behind them. They were alone in the vessel, the men of sadness left on the other side of the door. Zero could feel their touch, though, the subtle undercurrent of hatred that permeated every breath.
Before them, through the front of the shiver, the dazzling visual dance of miles of protective shield glass stretched, bending the light of the dying star at the center of this impossible expanse into infinite prisms and rainbows. A bark from Stranger and the vessel responded to his guttural language, firing up the spinners inside of its phase engine, resonating the vessel until Zero felt certain that his teeth were being jarred loose from his skull. He had always hated the resonance of shivers, that sickening vibration that at once tickled your entire body and made you nauseous as it created that perfect phase shift that could cut through anything solid. Whenever he was in a shiver vessel, Zero always felt like he was the slug in the barrel of a common shiver gun, which, in essence, he was.
“How thick is the shield?”
“Thinner than you think. We’ll reach Heaven in no time.”
With a wave of his hand, Stranger signaled the vessel and it was off, phasing at Light X through the globe of glass that protected all that remained of his homeworlds. Zero sat back in the vacuum seat, gritting his teeth against that uncertain shift from solid to near-liquid. He much preferred the comfort of the bowl, the complete immersion in phased gelatin. Traveling in a shiver was the dry-fuck of interstellar travel: plenty of motion, but little pleasure.
Stranger caught a bit of this thought, and shot Zero a sly smile. “You miss her, don’t you?”
The vibration of the shiver was almost too much for Zero to take, an aural onslaught, but he heard Stranger clear enough. “Who?”
“The Catalyst. Poor boy, you loved her.”
Zero was silent, but his mind broadcast all Stranger needed to know.
“We’ll have to kill her, you know. Nothing personal.”
Zero turned. “Right. Nothing personal.”
Stranger’s eyelids drew together in suspicion, but he said nothing. And he heard nothing; Zero’s mind was far too shielded now to read. He watched the needle before them, and the swirl of primaries blending to tertiaries.
Fleur, where are you?
Where am I?
Fleur’s heart lurched into her throat, so sudden and unexpected was her realization. Just a young woman, floating here in the void within the planet that had once held a childhood, a hope, a little stream and ferns and wind blowing in the valley, peace, sunshine. An awful mockery of that childhood swam beside her in this incomprehensible world, a little girl of five, wearing bright pink corduroy overalls and holding in her hand three silver spheres.
Where am I?
Mother smiled that smile,
Zero slumped against the glass in realization. Stranger made no move to help him up this time, but stood behind him, arms crossed. Zero looked at the assembled black-robed men standing in formation on either side of the airlock, watching him. Silent. Expressions of such loss on their faces...
“No women. Mother’s fleet—”
“Your fleet, Zero. Of course, you never knew. Your Fleur never knew. You were just following orders. The virus killed them all, even after we escaped with half of the system under shield. The catalyst was at work even before the final seal was welded into place.”
“I never—”
“Come on.” Stranger motioned toward the open airlock and the shiver vessel beyond, embedded within miles of solid glass.
“Where are we going?”
“Heaven.”
Zero warily stepped through the airlock and into the confines of the shiver vessel’s passenger area, where two vacuum chairs sat behind the transparent front needle of the ship. Stranger took a seat, and motioned for Zero to do the same as the lock doors cycled shut behind them. They were alone in the vessel, the men of sadness left on the other side of the door. Zero could feel their touch, though, the subtle undercurrent of hatred that permeated every breath.
Before them, through the front of the shiver, the dazzling visual dance of miles of protective shield glass stretched, bending the light of the dying star at the center of this impossible expanse into infinite prisms and rainbows. A bark from Stranger and the vessel responded to his guttural language, firing up the spinners inside of its phase engine, resonating the vessel until Zero felt certain that his teeth were being jarred loose from his skull. He had always hated the resonance of shivers, that sickening vibration that at once tickled your entire body and made you nauseous as it created that perfect phase shift that could cut through anything solid. Whenever he was in a shiver vessel, Zero always felt like he was the slug in the barrel of a common shiver gun, which, in essence, he was.
“How thick is the shield?”
“Thinner than you think. We’ll reach Heaven in no time.”
With a wave of his hand, Stranger signaled the vessel and it was off, phasing at Light X through the globe of glass that protected all that remained of his homeworlds. Zero sat back in the vacuum seat, gritting his teeth against that uncertain shift from solid to near-liquid. He much preferred the comfort of the bowl, the complete immersion in phased gelatin. Traveling in a shiver was the dry-fuck of interstellar travel: plenty of motion, but little pleasure.
Stranger caught a bit of this thought, and shot Zero a sly smile. “You miss her, don’t you?”
The vibration of the shiver was almost too much for Zero to take, an aural onslaught, but he heard Stranger clear enough. “Who?”
“The Catalyst. Poor boy, you loved her.”
Zero was silent, but his mind broadcast all Stranger needed to know.
“We’ll have to kill her, you know. Nothing personal.”
Zero turned. “Right. Nothing personal.”
Stranger’s eyelids drew together in suspicion, but he said nothing. And he heard nothing; Zero’s mind was far too shielded now to read. He watched the needle before them, and the swirl of primaries blending to tertiaries.
Fleur, where are you?
Where am I?
Fleur’s heart lurched into her throat, so sudden and unexpected was her realization. Just a young woman, floating here in the void within the planet that had once held a childhood, a hope, a little stream and ferns and wind blowing in the valley, peace, sunshine. An awful mockery of that childhood swam beside her in this incomprehensible world, a little girl of five, wearing bright pink corduroy overalls and holding in her hand three silver spheres.
Where am I?
Mother smiled that smile,
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