Zila leans back in her chair. “Interesting.”
“It’s a what now?” Lieutenant Kim demands.
“It’s an exploration device,” Finian says, wide eyes on the spinning display. “Created by an alien race called the Eshvaren. They launched thousands of them into the Fold, millennia ago. Our friend Aurora used one to unlock her latent psychic potential so she could continue the Eshvaren’s ancient war against …”
His voice fades as he realizes Nari is looking at him like he’s a lunatic.
“It’s a long story, okay? Point is, it’s alien tech. Hard-core.”
BOOM.
The whole station shudders as something, somewhere, explodes.
“WARNING: CONTAINMENT BREACH. EVACUATE DECKS 5 THROUGH 6 IMMEDIATELY. REPEAT: CONTAINMENT BREACH.”
“They must have discovered one,” I breathe. “Here, in this time.”
“It is damaged.” Zila points to the broken edge of the teardrop’s point. “Apparently inert. Project Glass Slipper is attempting to discover the crystal’s properties. Potentially weaponize them. The main fragment is locked in the station core, being subjected to testing with quantum energy harvested within the dark tempest.” She frowns, manipulating the holographic controls. “But there is a much smaller fragment, which …”
The wall hums.
A wall panel above the computer slides away, revealing a cylindrical glass case like the others around the office. But instead of an antique suspended in a thin column of zero grav, there is … a tiny chunk of crystal.
Out in the dark matter storm, that pulse of quantum energy strikes the sail, arcing along the cable toward the station. Forty-four minutes since we arrived, just like always. And just like always, the fragment around my neck begins to glow black in response. But this time, that glow is mirrored in the chunk of crystal floating inside that case. Like twins, their intensity grows, each one exactly the same as …
“Holy shit … ,” I whisper.
My hand drifts up to the medallion around my neck. A medallion that, just like Kal’s cigarillo case, waited ten years in that vault in Emerald City. Put there by people who seemed to know what would happen before it actually did.
“Scar …” Fin stares at the glass case. “This is your crystal… .”
“How … ?” Lieutenant Kim shakes her head, looking between the crystal in the glass and the crystal around my neck. The shape is unmistakable. Identical. “How is that possible? If you’re from the year 2380?”
“I do not know,” Zila says. “But this is it. This is the cause of the loop. An interaction across time and space between the Weapon, this station, the quantum pulse, the Eshvaren crystals. All of it is entwined. Ouroboros.”
The pulse reaches the station.
The structure shudders, the lights around us flickering.
“WARNING: CONTAINMENT BREACH CRITICAL. EVACUATE DECKS 2 THROUGH 10 IMMEDIATELY. REPEAT: CONTAINMENT BREACH CRITICAL.”
Lieutenant Kim and I are staring at each other, the same disbelief in our eyes. Fin and Zila begin trawling through the data, reading as fast as they can. The glow in the medallion is fading now, the after-impression burned in white on the inside of my eyes.
“WARNING: CONTAINMENT BREACH UNDER WAY, ENGAGE EMERGENCY MEASURES DECK 11.”
The station shakes again. Harder this time.
The door to the office slides open and half a dozen laser sights light up the flickering gloom.
“FREEZE!”
Fin sighs. “Oh, for the love of …”
“REPEAT: CONTAINMENT BREACH UNDER WAY, ENGAGE EMERGENCY MEASURES DECK 11.”
I raise my hands for the SecBoys. “See you soon.”
BLAMBLAMBLAM.
16
ZILA
“Aw chakk, what got us?” Finian asks over comms.
“I thought for sure we were safe that time,” Scarlett agrees.
“A core breach,” I tell them, rising from my pilot’s seat. “The station reactor overloaded fifty-eight minutes after the quantum pulse struck it, destroying the entire structure. It seems the damage the station has sustained will ultimately prove critical, no matter what we do.”
“Why didn’t they order an evac?” Finian asks.
“The call to abandon the facility was only made three minutes before detonation. Given the amount of money the Terran government must have spent on this project, I believe what is left of station command was desperately trying to salvage the situation.”
“And we somehow slept through all that?” Scarlett asks.
“You looked very tired. I did not wish to wake you.”
We made the decision to devote our last loop to rest. The cumulative effect of the repeated resets, the adrenaline surges from near misses and the moments before our deaths, and the sheer ongoing effort of mental calculation has fatigued all of us—and of course, we were tired when we arrived here.
When Scarlett realized we had essentially been on the move for well over twenty-four hours, and none of us were resetting feeling refreshed, it was evident that sleep was indicated.
I volunteered to take the first watch, and we hunkered down with Nari—who has also completed over a day’s worth of loops—just inside our entry point by the waste ejection system. We were crowded, but we were safer there than drifting aboard our damaged ship. Until the station went quite dramatically to pieces around us, of course.
Now back in our shuttle once more, I meet Fin and Scarlett in the corridor en route to the loading bay.
“From the look on your face,” Scarlett says, “this isn’t good.”
“I am not certain,” I reply. “But if the three fragments of crystal—yours, Dr. Pinkerton’s, and the main probe—are the cause of the loop, and our way home, and all three were just destroyed in a large-scale explosion …”
“Then this loop always ends,” Finian frowns. “No matter what we do.”
I nod. “Fifty-eight minutes after the quantum pulse.”
“Chakk,” Fin sighs. “That means that even if we dodge all the ways there are to die in that place, we’ve only got an hour and three quarters each loop, give or take. That’s a lot less than I’d like.”
“I am uneasy,” I admit.
“And unrested,” Scarlett points out. “Did you sleep at all?”
“I shall do so during a future loop,” I reply. “I had an opportunity to think while I kept watch. Let us return to Dr. Pinkerton’s office.”
“Nobody step on a cactus this time,” Fin adds.
• • • • •
We reach our destination more quickly each time now, but I am growing concerned we are still not fast enough. Earlier, I thought us efficient in our efforts. Now I am aware that a considerable portion of our limited time is being spent each loop just to access Pinkerton’s office.
But we must know more.
Nari and I work in perfect concert as we retrieve Dr. Pinkerton’s passkey from his corpse, and once we are within his quarters, I am able to navigate through a now-familiar set of menus promptly. We no longer waste time in surprise at the crystal fragment that is a twin to Scarlett’s, or the sheer improbability of our predicament.