“Hey, Deacon, what year is it?” Letho asked.
“What?” Deacon asked, laughing, not sure if Letho was joking. But when Letho continued to stare at him, Deacon answered. “2350.”
“That’s interesting, because according to the news site clock, it’s 2361.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Yeah, but wait, there’s more.”
Letho began to read the foreman’s final email aloud. It had come from someone on Eursus whose official title was “Chancellor Elan Steigen.” The email had been sent with high importance and forwarded to officials on all active Fulcrum stations.
ELAN STEIGEN ISSUES UNPRECEDENTED FULCRUM RECALL
May 13, 2350
ATTN: Fulcrum Station Officials
Dear Fulcrum directors,
Congratulations! Your mission has been arduous, spanning hundreds of Eursan years. No doubt your forefathers hoped to receive the message that you are now reading.
Food production and clean water distribution have been brought back to acceptable levels in Hastrom City. As such, it has been declared a safe zone, and is ready to welcome all Fulcrum citizens. Upon receipt of this message, all stations will be recalled via internal programming.
The journey back to Eursus is a long one, but our researchers recently discovered hidden functions within the Fulcrum stations’ computer cores. Using remote access protocols, we have enabled deep-space thrust drives on each Fulcrum station. These drives are incredibly taxing on the ships’ power cores, so you may experience loss of non-critical systems, such as uCom services and news site access. These deep space drives will reduce the return voyage from centuries to mere months.
Do not attempt to divert the course being plotted by your navigation systems. Tampering with navigation systems, or attempting to deviate course, will activate system subroutines that will terminate critical support systems, including atmospheric recycling and power plants.
Able-bodied citizens are needed to aid in the rebuilding process on Eursus. Current residents of Hastrom City have been working diligently to fortify the walls that surround the city, as well as partaking in dangerous reclamation missions to add abandoned portions of the city to the safe zone. All Fulcrum citizens under the age of thirty-five and possessed of sound mind and body will serve as needed in these important operations.
Please continue to live your life as usual, enjoying the comforts and leisure activities the Fulcrum station continues to provide. In the event of civic disturbance, station inspectors are authorized to use any means necessary to quell resistance. The infrastructure must be maintained!
All station inspectors are required to re-read their law enforcement handbooks, specifically the section entitled “Returning Home.”
Good luck! May your return journey be a smooth one!
Chancellor Elan Steigen
“So that’s good news, right? We can go home now,” said Deacon.
Letho looked over at the discarded body of the dock foreman, and then back to Deacon. “I think it would be an understatement at this point to say that something is not right.”
Thresha shook her head in impatience. “Don’t you see? All of this—raiding the Fulcrum stations, kidnapping people—it was just the first part of his plan to bring Abraxas back into the physical realm. The second part was to bring everyone back to Eursus, to help bring their race…”—she stammered—”our race, back from the brink of extinction.”
“Well, we were right behind them, so shouldn’t they be here?” asked Deacon.
Maka interrupted, unable to contain his frustration. “I am still confused as to why we are trusting the enemy! Her kind killed my brothers!” he shouted, glaring at Thresha.
Letho had no answer to Maka’s question. And he was crushed to see a wariness in Bayorn’s eyes that he had never seen before. Letho still didn’t know why he had grabbed Thresha’s hand and taken her aboard Deacon’s ship. She had been prepared to die, and he had pulled her away from that fate. Why? Whenever he thought back to the moment, he could only see Sila’s face, the way she had been before. He shuddered, pushing back a vision of her slack jaw, the foul appendage slipping down from between her teeth, slathered in ropy saliva.
Letho realized that he had blanked out for a moment, and when things came back into focus, Maka and Thresha were in each other’s faces, shouting and gesturing. Though Maka towered at least two feet over Thresha, she didn’t back down. Letho knew that a single swat from Maka’s enormous paw would topple her head from her shoulders with the ease of a baby knocking over a block tower. But she had a strength of her own. Letho had seen her rip Jim’s head from his shoulders with her bare hands.
Letho took a deep breath. “Stop!”
Maka and Thresha froze, turning to look at him.
“Listen! I know this seems crazy, but you just have to trust me. She saved my life back there! Crimson Jim was about to kill me, and she took his head off. Ask yourself why she did that. Or why she didn’t do the same to me.”
Letho and Thresha exchanged glances, and her contemptuous sneer melted for a moment.
“Letho, will you step outside with me for a moment so that I may speak to you privately?” Bayorn asked.
Letho nodded. “Deacon, get on the computer and see what you can find. Logs of ship arrivals and departures. Anything.”
“Already there,” Deacon replied.
****
Letho and Bayorn stepped outside the dock foreman’s office and closed the door behind them. Bayorn’s face was dark, his expression unreadable. His irises darted back and forth rapidly, a signal to Letho that his old friend was lost in thought, choosing his words carefully. His lips pursed and he moved to engage Letho in conversation, almost taking a full step toward him, then immediately dropped his head and continued with the brooding routine.
“Bayorn, the suspense is killing me. Can you just spit it out please?”
Bayorn snorted and his eyes flickered like gold coins immersed in water. He had only seen Bayorn’s eyes do that when he was very angry. Suddenly Letho was back on the shuttle so long ago, simultaneously meeting Bayorn for the first time and stepping onto the path toward his supposed destiny.
No. You are not that person anymore. Stand your ground. He is trying to bully you.
“Letho, I have been thinking about what happened on Alastor’s ship. With Sila. With the Mendraga you have brought into our company.”
Letho felt his forehead become heavy. It sloped down like a creased shroud, and his eyebrows met in a hard line that transformed his eyes into shadowed pits. Letho’s mouth drew into a bloodless line, and he fought back tears. He wouldn’t give Bayorn the satisfaction.
“Bayorn, look. Don’t bring her up, man. Not now.”
Letho’s words came in hesitant blurts, like he was struggling to breathe. He dragged his hand through his greasy, blue-black hair, chuckling a little under his breath. He felt his vision began to sharpen, and his hands clenched into involuntary fists. An immediate twinge of pain brought him back from the brink; he had bitten his lip hard enough to draw blood, the coppery taste coating his tongue.
Bayorn nodded. “We must talk about the Mendraga. I cannot understand your choice to save her. She is a child of Abraxas, the one who destroyed our world and forced us into exile. Did you not hear any of the Elder’s words?”
Letho erupted. “I don’t know why I did it! I just—I just did! All right? Are you happy now?”
The shout echoed in the cavernous metallic belly of the Fulcrum station before it dwindled to nothing. Reproach filled Bayorn’s eyes, and Letho felt embarrassment creeping up his neck and blossoming in his cheeks.