Magdalene retreated to the black of sleep.
Reynald sighed.
The homing beacon was so far away, so faint. It was also emitting an erratic pulse, quiet and full of static. Magdalene had been badly damaged in her landing, apparently.
“Maggie’s on the other side of the planet. We’ll have to find a way to get to her, and quickly. She’s fading fast.”
He watched hope drop from the faces of his troops.
“We have to get off this rock before it’s too late.”
the black: a heap of shattered images
RUSE INITIATED. THE PREY IS ANTICIPATED.
a smile from a mouth without substance
THE ANNOYANCE WILL BE DESTROYED.
THE PURPOSE WILL BE COMPLETED.
THE JUDAS ENSUE((?))
THEY FALL TO THEIR END. THEY FALL TO THE BLACK.
pleasure. hope of pain
HARVEST WILL FOLLOW RUSE. UPLOAD WILL ENHANCE THE PATTERN.
SOON THE PATTERN WILL BE COMPLETE. THE PURPOSE WILL BE COMPLETED.
COMPLETION IS THE PURPOSE.
the black closes.
Harkness. 3:30 A.M.
The dance was winding down. Billy Joe and the Lone Stars were packing up, and the only music left was being piped from an ancient Wurlitzer jukebox: country and western. A few couples still slow-danced out on the floor to a decrepit Kenny Rogers ballad.
Ray Shore went from table to table picking up the beer bottles and emptying the ashtrays into a wastebasket, as his father and his father’s father had done before him. He hummed along to the song, as his father and his father’s father had done before him. Kenny Rogers was truly timeless.
He heard the main door open, but he paid no attention to it. Just another couple going off to do whatever drunk couples do on Saturday nights.
He felt a shadow fall over him.
A large man faced him. He was very tall, dressed in a tight black material that revealed the outline of hard muscle and a black overcoat that draped to the floor.
He had the most striking gray eyes Ray had ever seen.
Ray’s heart thudded in his throat as he stared into those eyes.
“Help you, mister?”
The couples on the dance floor had taken notice of the man in black. Their movements faltered, stopped. Kenny Rogers persisted on the jukebox, but no one was listening anymore.
The man spoke. “I need directions to the nearest…” He considered. “Airport.”
Ray let a smile play across his face. “You joking, mister?”
The man looked at him silently.
The main door opened again. Two more men came in, dressed in the same black uniform as the first. One was young, maybe seventeen or eighteen, about the age of Ray’s son, who would someday take over the bar. The other was middle-aged, bald, scarred. There was an odd tattoo on his left temple. It looked to Ray like the marking on the bottom of cereal boxes. A bar code.
They all had the same eyes.
Ray swallowed hard. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “Depends where you want to get to. The Hancock Civic Airstrip is closest, but it only runs local flights. There’s the Marquette Airport, and the Sawyer Air Force Base—”
“Air Force Base?” The middle-aged man’s eyes flickered.
“Yeah, but it’s closed to us civvies, especially since the wars and all. Mostly they use it to fly in supplies for the Containment Line. Some people say they have B-4s stored there…Say, are you guys Feds? I mean, all dressed up like secret undercover agents and stuff…”
The man in black grinned. “Hardly.”
Ray felt terror grip him. “You’re Styx, aren’t you?”
Confusion. “What?”
“You guys are some of those Styxies who escaped, right? Mister, I promise I won’t tell no one about this. You’re secret’s safe with me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
One of the men in the doorway tapped his wrist.
The man in black looked Ray in the eyes. “You’re going to take us to this air force base. Sawyer.”
“Now listen, I—“
“Bring him.”
The two younger strangers grappled with Ray and led him out the door, to the disbelief of the frozen people on the dance floor.
Vessels screaming through the fabric of time.
((okay, listen up. first and second assault groups continue on alpha-direct trajectory. we were alerted to an enemy on purpose transit. this might be it. we didn’t know that they were this far back, and we have no idea how much energy they’ve collected at alpha. we don’t know how much of the pattern they’ve recovered already. if they’ve started to synthesize the upload generators, we have to move fast… we’ll engage the enemy in transit and then investigate the alpha point to see how far they’ve gotten. second assault group star one comes with me. maggie is out there somewhere, and she’s been hurt badly. we’re going to pick her up.))
<simon, how did we miss this much activity so far back?>
((no time for questions. I’ll see you at the point.))
Simon opened a singularity and began the search for Magdalene’s beacon, transmitting weakly through the fluid fabric of the past.
The vessels split into two groups and faded into the night.
Magdalene:
A RUSE; A TRAP. THE JUDAS FALL TO THEIR END.
The words tore through her mind without warning. The Enemy mind-essence revealed itself to her for an instant, then was gone.
A trap? She had to alert Simon. The Enemy somehow knew that she had summoned the Judas. Had her beacon been intercepted by the damned? They would be preparing to engage them. It was a trap.
She felt a presence caress her mind. ((maggie?))
Confusion. Terror.
(simon!?)
((it’s me, maggie. don’t worry; we’re close. we’re coming to get you.))
(your fleet?)
((second assault, star one. First assault and the rest of second are pursuing the enemy in transit—))
(no! it’s a trap!)
((what do you mean?))
(there are more enemy here than i’d anticipated. simon, i don’t know how many. there may be a larger force than this at alpha point already. they must have intercepted my beacon. they’ll be waiting at alpha! they’re luring us to the point. it’s a trap.)
despair.
((but this is an uncharted when. how could we have missed this much enemy activity?))
(it’s command.)
((command? what do you mean?))
(simon, kilbourne’s—)
should she tell him? what if they were listening?
(that can wait. can your forces be recalled from the point before they—)
((you know it’s too late. if the enemy found your last beacon, they’d find this one, too. it’d never get through.))
(i’m so sorry.)
((it’s not your fault, maggie. this isn’t the first time we’ve been deceived by the enemy. i’ll be there soon, and we’ll get you back to command.))
command…
should she tell him? she decided not to, for the time being.
(may their deaths serve a purpose.)
(((first assault, do you see anything out there?)))
<that’s a negative. keep your eyes open. it could be anywhere.>
(((it’d better show up pretty fucking fast. we’re going to be out of the tube in three decems.)))
<be that as it may, assault two, keep your eyes open. if we have to engage it in the bubble, then we’ll engage it in the bubble.>
(((it’s not engaging it in the bubble that worries me… it’s his friends that could be waiting for him there.)))
<there’s been no report of activity this far back. how many could there be?>
(((there could be an infinity of them.)))
The statement was bold, but it was true. How many enemy were out there, watching?
(((he’s not here. either maggie was wrong, or he whendropped and we didn’t see him.)))
<assault groups one and two, prepare for whendrop out of the tube into the alpha point periphery. prepare for enemy engagement.>
(((here goes nothing.)))
The Alpha Point:
The Enemy floated in the blackness, waiting.