Ouroboros 4: End (7 page)

Cadet Nida Harper

She was on her own, and it was nice. After they’d arrived on Earth, she’d been moved to the medical bay. In fact, she was in a room she remembered; the same place she’d been taken after the entity had practically killed her outside the E Club.

It was weird, to say the least.

Though there was a bank of whirring, humming machinery on one side of the room, there was no great force field holding her in place.

Maybe the doctors had realized it wouldn’t do anything but leach the Coalition’s power.

If she wanted to, she could command the entity to rip through any force field, crumple any machine, and rebuff any attack.

Sure, she’d get tired, but she fancied she had more than enough energy to make it out of here if she needed to.

Sighing, Nida sat back down on her bed.

She was trying to think through what she had to do. A good cadet came up with a viable strategy for every conceivable alternative. She should be taking the time now to figure out a plan to force the Coalition to believe her. Or, if that didn’t work, to break out and stop the Vex herself.

Instead, all she could do was stare at her left hand. The light blue glow around her palm and fingers held her transfixed.

The entity was still held back by the modified TI, but the shadow of its presence was growing stronger. It wasn’t about to fight her again for control of her body, she was simply becoming steadily more aware of it.

Especially its desperation.

It sang through her mind with every passing second, forcing her hands to stiffen as she propped her arms by her sides.

‘Stop it,’ she told herself in a soft tone that couldn’t carry. Not, of course, that there was anyone to hear her.

The room was empty.

No one wanted to be around her. They were all terrified of her, with good reason: the entity was capable of terrifying things.

Feeling glum, she brought her knees up and hugged them to her chest.

God, she wished Carson were here. He could lift her mood, he could make her believe that somehow she’d get through this.

Though she wasn’t always lucky, suddenly, she got her wish.

She looked up to see the doors across the far side of the room swish open.

Though she had to squint, in a heartbeat she recognized him.

It was completely uncalled for, but she flung herself off her bed and sprinted for him.

Then, just before she reached him, she pulled back, realizing how stupid she was being.

Wincing, she clutched her hands awkwardly before her. ‘Ah, sorry, I . . . ah I’m . . . .’

Carson slowly smiled. Though his face was hooded with fatigue and stress, as his lips curled up, his mood lightened. For those few seconds, it appeared as if the weight of the galaxy was lifted from his armor-assisted shoulders.

She’d stopped a couple of meters away from him, when she’d realized how dumb it was to fling herself into his arms.

Well, now he sprinted across that remaining distance, and all but barreled into her, his arms wrapping firmly and quickly around her back.

He was alone. Harrington and his surly security team hadn’t followed Carson into the room.

It was just the two of them.

So she cried.

It happened all at once.

The stress of being locked up in this room, of being treated like a dangerous criminal, it all poured out of her.

If Carson was surprised or disgusted at her pathetic turn, he didn’t show it. He weighed his hand into the back of her head, supporting her as he leaned closer.

She could smell him, feel him all around her.

It locked out the cold, clinical room beyond.

Soon her sobbing puttered to a stop, and she gave the softest of laughs. ‘Sorry,’ she hiccupped.

‘It’s okay. It’s all okay—they believe us.’

She stiffened, every muscle locking into place as surprise blasted through her. ‘What?’

‘Nida, they believe us. They know about the Vex. They’re going to prepare. Admiral Forest has organized a briefing. It’s in twenty minutes. I’m here to take you to the briefing too.’

She pulled back from him, though she didn’t want to. She had to see his expression. Was he lying?

He stared down at her with a small smile pressing into his teeth.

She waited for him to laugh, or make any indication he’d been lying. When he didn’t, she actually yelped, pressing her fingers into her lips.

This drew a full-bellied laugh from Carson.

‘They believe us,’ he repeated once more. She could see the relief washing down his face. He looked, quite rightly, as if the weight of the world, or the Coalition, rather, had been taken off his shoulders.

He stepped in and anchored his hands against her shoulders, staring into her eyes as he did. ‘We’ll tell them what we know, we’ll do what we have to, and then it’ll all be over.’

He spoke with such certainty, that she was almost carried away by it.

Almost.

The entity, held back by the modified TI, became stronger in that moment. So strong, in fact, she swore she could hear it screaming.

It would lose its chance to fix its mistake. To absolve itself.

She tried to smile, but the move was so stiff, it was a surprise her lips didn’t crack.

Carson’s brow twitched with concerned confusion. ‘What is it?’

She didn’t speak. She simply tried to smile harder.

This was the right thing to do—stopping the entity from ever manipulating the Vex timeline again, and preventing it from destroying any other races in its desperate attempt to help the Vex.

. . . .

It was the right thing to do. No, it was the only thing to do. She had witnessed first-hand what the Vex would do to the Coalition. She knew, with every fiber of her being, she had to prevent that atrocious history from manifesting.

So why did she feel so . . . guilty? Was it just the entity? Was she picking up on its shame and remorse?

Or was it more than that?

Was she scared that maybe there was more she could do to help it? To somehow heal Vex’s timeline? To save the Coalition, without condemning the Vex.

Maybe Carson knew what she was thinking, because his brow now crumpled completely over his eyes. The smile slipped from his face, to be replaced with a thin-lipped frown. ‘Nida, there’s no other way,’ he spoke softly, his voice mirroring the sweet touch of his fingers pressing into her shoulders.

Yes, she knew that.

But it didn’t matter.

She couldn’t push back the guilt.

Unable to keep faking her smile, she took a small step backwards, breaking his grip. Staring at the floor by his feet, it took too long to muster the courage to look at him.

‘Hey,’ he said quickly, ‘we are doing the right thing. We’ve seen what that monster does in the future. The entity started this. All of this. It infected you, it took us back to Vex, and now it wants to sacrifice everyone we care about, too. We can’t let it. It can’t fix Vex’s timeline—it broke it, and it’s been making everyone else pay since.’

Carson spoke so quickly, his words streamed out like gunfire.

Yet, they still glanced off her.

Even his passion couldn’t touch her heart right now. In fact, she brought up a hand and pressed her fingers hard into her breastbone.

Carson watched in alarmed interest. ‘You can’t feel the entity again, right?’

She shook her head, swallowing hard. ‘It’s . . .’ she couldn’t speak. She could barely formulate her thoughts, let alone share them.

‘Hey,’ he ducked his head down until he was staring directly into her eyes, ‘you don’t need to feel guilty. You’ve done all you can. Nida, none of this is your fault.’

His words grabbed her and held her to the spot. She felt them like hooks locking into her stomach, chest, and arms. With a trembling top lip, she started to shake her head. ‘I am guilty. I could have done more. I should never have touched that statue . . . . And the entity . . . I . . . .’

‘Nida,’ Carson spoke loudly, his voice echoing through her cavernous room. ‘Stop blaming yourself; that’s the entity speaking,’ he said, a serious expression shadowing his face. ‘Don’t give into it,’ he warned once more, picking up her hands and lacing his fingers through them.

She tried to listen, she honestly tried to be convinced by his words. It was impossible. No matter what he said and no matter how hard she tried to reason through her guilt, it remained.

The entity would not let her forget. It whispered, hissed, and screamed in her ear. If she did nothing to help the Vex, she condemned them.

The entity’s guilt would transfer to her.

Perhaps Carson reasoned he couldn’t get through to her yet, as he sighed deeply, his uniformed chest punching out an inch. ‘Look, I’ll be here,’ he whispered simply.

She stared at him, lost for words as her thoughts tumbled like an avalanche through her mind.

‘But we’ve got to go now,’ he managed as he half turned towards the door, letting a powerful blast of air through his locked teeth as he did.

Silently, she followed.

She wanted to reach out to him and tell him she was fine.

She couldn’t.

She wasn’t.

The more this situation continued, the more she questioned.

Was there something she could do to save the Vex?

Should she try?

Carson Blake

He could see the guilt was eating her, and it was killing him. Her usual cheerful resilience was gone to be replaced by a heavy, somber silence.

She still walked with him, though, as he led her up, out of the medical bay and towards the Command building.

Thank god Harrington wasn’t here to bully and cajole her—Admiral Forest trusted Carson to deliver Nida to the meeting without incident.

In fact, Carson had been the one to convince the Admiral that Nida was no threat. The modified TI could hold the entity at bay.

Now he wasn’t so sure. As she walked silently beside him, he occasionally stole a glance at her face and body.

Her movements were stiff, her hands locked firmly in front of her as she directed her head to the ground.

Maybe she didn’t want to face any of the gawkers that stared at her as she passed. Maybe she was tired and stressed out.

Or maybe . . . the entity was back. Perhaps a fraction of its insidious control filtered past the TI, and now poisoned her mind.

He felt itchy as he walked. Discomfort rose through him steadily, making his limbs heavy and hot.

Scratching at the skin under his collar, he searched for something to say.

He wanted to pull her out of her funk, wanted to reassure her it would all be okay in the end.

She wouldn’t look at him though. In fact, there was such a detached edge to her gaze as she seemingly stared at her feet, he wondered whether she was seeing anything at all. Her mind was clearly miles away. Or light years, perhaps. Her thoughts were no doubt focused on Remus 12 and the woeful destiny of the Vex.

Carson sighed. It was heavy, it was hard, and it felt like moving a ton of brick as he shoved his chest forward and back.

It was all he could do right now. Just when he’d thought this situation was becoming controllable, it wriggled out of his grip.

Nida looked up. ‘You’re tired,’ she said as her eyes slowly focused on him.

He pressed his lips together, one side kinking up as he shrugged. ‘I thought you were in another world there,’ he remarked. ‘Or on another world,’ he added softly under his breath.

It took a while for her to respond, and it was clear she had to pull her attention off whatever was bothering her. Giving a sigh of her own, she hooked her loose hair behind her ears. ‘I just . . . .’

He stared at her, hopeful she was ready to open up.

‘What if there’s another way?’ she ground to a halt, stopping so suddenly he had to put his arms out to balance, lest he stumble into her.

‘What?’

‘The Vex . . . I can’t help thinking that when we do this—remove the entity from their timeline forever—we’ll be condemning them.’

He had to tread carefully. He wanted to remind her the Vex destroyed the Coalition in the future, and were a cold-hearted race, but he stifled his words.

Reminding her what was at stake wouldn’t help her; she already knew what the Vex were capable of. No, what Nida needed was support.

‘Hey,’ he lowered his voice, glancing over her shoulder to ensure their conversation remained out of ear-shot of the officers and scientists passing through the corridor, ‘I know this is difficult. But you’ve got to trust the Coalition, you’ve got to trust me,’ he added passionately, even clamping a hand to his chest. ‘We’ll find a way to make this right. Our first priority has to be to ensure the Coalition is safe. We must repel the Vex’s attack. That doesn’t mean we’re going to completely abandon them, though. Once the immediate threat is over, the Coalition will look into their situation. Remus 12 and its broken timeline will be studied. I can’t promise you we’ll find a way to save them tomorrow, or even a year from now. But eventually, given enough time, we’ll figure out how to fix what the entity broke.’

Initially she looked unconvinced, her round lips pulled in until only a thin line of pinkish-red remained visible. Yet as he spoke, and his tone spiked with emotion, she shifted. Staring up, not blinking once, she managed, ‘. . . really? We won’t abandon the Vex?’

‘Really,’ he nodded firmly, resisting the urge to hold her shoulders and pull her in. They were smack bang in the middle of the Command building. While he’d revealed his relationship with Nida in front of Harrington, kissing her here would be different.

If Forest saw, Carson would get more than an ear bashing. This was a critically serious time for the Coalition—the head of the Force didn’t have time to hang around and pash cadets in corridors.

Still, the idea kinked his top lip, and he watched as she loosened up. He could see her neck muscles untangle as her shoulders deflated. The frozen, terrified look in her eyes slowly drifted away too. With a sigh, she blinked her eyes closed. ‘I know I shouldn’t feel sorry for it, but I do.’

He didn’t need to ask who she was referring to.

The entity. That cursed being wrapped around her soul.

How she felt sympathy for it, he couldn’t begin to imagine. It had manipulated her from the beginning.

He pressed his lips firmly into his teeth and didn’t say anything.

‘I still do though,’ she opened her eyes, one at a time, ‘I’m not absolving it of all the terrible things it’s done. I just . . . can’t get past how guilty it feels. How desperate it is to fix this,’ as she said the word fix, he swore her tone changed.

It stretched somehow.

His back chilled, a cold sweat darting up his skin and making him shiver.

She didn’t suddenly glow blue and start trashing the place. Instead she took another deep breath and smiled awkwardly. ‘Sorry you have to keep putting up with me. I’m okay now. We should head to the meeting, right?’

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he took the time to stare right at her, hoping to capture her attention completely. ‘Nida, don’t apologize. You’ve been on the front line of this whole fiasco. I can’t imagine what you’ve put up with having the entity inside you. Don’t apologize,’ he said flatly.

Before she could respond, he heard someone clear their throat from behind.

He stiffened immediately.

Turning, he knew it was the Admiral before her tense, irritated expression came into view. ‘We’re waiting,’ she said simply.

Admiral Forest didn’t hesitate—she whirled on her foot, pointing towards the end of the corridor as she did.

If Carson had resisted the urge to hold Nida’s shoulders before, it was almost impossible to stifle the desire now.

This would undoubtedly be her first briefing in front of the Academy Board. While she’d come a long way since this journey began, he’d seen how Sharpe still rattled her.

Nida had a history of getting in trouble, so it stood to reason this would scare her. Heck, it rattled him, and he’d been before the Board countless times.

While he couldn’t pluck up her hand and squeeze it tenderly, he could at least walk closer to her. Shifting slightly he angled her way, catching her expression just long enough to smile reassuringly.

‘We don’t have time to waste,’ the Admiral announced as she marched through the great silver doors before them. With a barely audible hiss, they parted, and she strode quickly into the room.

The boardroom was enormous. It was at least 20 meters squared. Situated at the edge of the building, one side was a seamless, curved bank of windows that provided an astounding view of the bay beyond. There was a large, mahogany table in the middle of the room, easily bigger than a small recon vessel. Dotted in the wood were low-profile, sleek metal bands that provided users with interactive holo displays, and instant access to the full force of the Academy data banks.

The table and the room, however, were not nearly as impressive as the assembled crowd.

The Academy Board was made up of the heads of each discipline, from medicine to engineering, including the active Coalition Admirals that presided over the training of new recruits.

Suffice to say, every uniform was impeccable, every brass button sparkled, and every expression was grim.

The tone was so grave, Carson’s first instinct was to duck out and run away.

He stood his ground, and luckily, so did Nida.

It was harder for her, though. The moment she walked in, all attention zeroed in on her like self-targeting missiles from a Coalition heavy cruiser.

She gulped. She also clutched her left hand so tightly, it was a wonder she didn’t snap the bones.

Admiral Forest paused for a fraction of a second, shot him a look, shook her head, then waved him forward.

Pointing to a chair, she told him to ‘sit,’ tersely.

Though her tone was the kind you used on a dog, not a man, he obeyed.

When Nida went to sit beside him, Forest shook her head. ‘No, stand.’

Before Carson could bristle, snap to his feet, and come to Nida’s aid, Forest explained, ‘you won’t be staying long, Cadet. Though you have been through . . . some extraordinary experiences beyond the remit of an ordinary cadet, you are still not an officer. Even under these extreme circumstances, a cadet cannot attend an Academy Board meeting.’

Though at first Nida looked surprised, she shrugged her shoulders and nodded. Then, quite possibly remembering the Admiral was an Admiral, and Nida really was still just a cadet, she snapped a hasty salute.

Her salute, as always, was faultless. He used to think that was the only thing she could get right, he now knew otherwise.

The Admiral returned the salute, then walked over to the table, grabbed a datapad, and handed it to Nida. ‘Lieutenant Blake has already provided his briefing on your . . .’ the Admiral searched for her words, ‘impromptu mission. Read this report, and tell us if there’s anything he left out.’

The Admiral crossed her arms and waited.

Nida fumbled with the datapad. From her clumsy movements, it was a surprise she didn’t drop it.

She managed to keep it in her hands as she gently pressed her tongue against the corner of her lips and read.

She looked exceedingly uncomfortable and put on the spot.

His heart went out for her.

Before this journey began, he might have chuckled at her ineptitude. In fact, he remembered wondering how the heck she was still in the Academy after her accident on Remus 12.

Now he felt her embarrassment like it was his own. He swore his cheeks became hotter than the surface of the sun.

Carson’s mission briefing was extensive; of course it was, the Vex were a huge threat, and the Coalition needed to know everything about them.

So he’d recreated their entire adventure on Remus 12, to the best of his memory. His summary was at least 100 pages long, and included predicted battle scenarios, and a full inventory and breakdown of all Vex weapons he’d encountered.

It was not something you could read in a few minutes while the entire Academy Board stared at you.

With proper training, you learnt how to skim a report like that, absorbing the important details in quick measure.

Nida didn’t have the training, and it was agonizing to watch her struggling through the report, her tongue pushing out from her teeth.

After a tedious minute or two, the Admiral sighed, clearly realizing Nida wasn’t up to the task.

Before Forest could snatch the datapad back, Nida let the thing drop in her hand.

She stood there in silence, letting her gaze shift to the view momentarily.

He had no idea what she’d say next.

Maybe she’d admit she had no idea how to read such a lengthy and extensive document in such a short period of time, or maybe she had nothing to add.

Then she spoke.

In careful, measured, soft words that nonetheless grabbed the collective attention of the room, she said ‘it doesn’t matter. None of this matters,’ she tapped the datapad against her leg as she swung her gaze away from the view. ‘All you need to know is that for the past 5000 years the entity has been pushing the Vex towards this moment. It has used its extensive power and abilities to craft their culture, making them into brutal, cold, efficient killing machines. It has done everything it can to ensure the Vex will have a chance when their timeline realigns with ours.’

Though she spoke softly, never raising her voice beyond a gentle tone, the effect of her words was electric. It travelled through the room like lightning, sparking fear as it went.

‘Yes, they’ve got weapons. And yeah, they’ll be a match for ours. But that isn’t the point—their motivation is. They know they have this one chance to save themselves.

They know the past 5000 years of their history will be worthless unless they make something of the one day they realign with our time. If they fail, they all die. Their history is wiped clear.’

As she spoke, she faced the view again, her eyes fixed on the bay beyond.

It made the effect of her words all the more powerful.

‘This isn’t going to be an ordinary battle. The Barbarians fight like they have nothing to lose, and they're bad enough. But the Vex will fight like they have everything to lose. You can’t even begin to imagine what they’ll be willing to do.’ She stopped. The words apparently drying up as she kept gazing at the ocean.