“It’s my fault. I messed with the wellness chamber,” Brian told her. “I wanted to improve on the effects that Cuddy acquired in there… so I foolishly double-upped on the sessions.”
Jackie stood still, staring down at him and shaking her head. “I have to pee… um… just stay there.” She heard him mutter, “Yeah… I’ll do that.”
AI orb Bob was telepathically reaching out to him. Captain Perkins… you are needed on the bridge.
Cuddy said, “I’m on my way.” Then, remembering, he spoke the words back telepathically.
“Huh?” Tony queried.
“Not you. I was talking to Bob… I’m needed on the bridge.”
“Okay, but who’s Bob?” Tony asked, though Cuddy was already running down the corridor. In less than two minutes he reached the bridge. The orb hovered there, at the forward console, and for the first time Cuddy noticed that this orb, Bob, was shaped slightly different than the first one. Perhaps more streamlined in its design.
“What’s going on, Bob? Why do you need me here?”
Bob gestured with one of its articulating arms—something else the first orb never did—toward the Viewscape display.
“What am I looking at here?”
“Five Howsh, Marauder-Class, star fighters.”
Cuddy sat down. “I thought there were ten of them? And that they were far off, not an imminent concern.”
The orb hovered back to the board and made a few adjustments to what Cuddy recognized was the ship’s cloaking. “Apparently, the fleet has split. These warships are now on an intersecting course with the Evermore.”
Cuddy, afraid something like that would happen, asked, “How close?”
“Close, Captain. Keep in mind the Evermore has been continuously outpacing FTL speeds by a factor of seven, ever since leaving Sol System. I suspect the Howsh vessels, albeit not nearly as fast as the Evermore, are now traveling at their maximum capabilities as well. Currently, keeping those same joint rates of speed, we will intersect in five days, seven hours, and forty-three minutes.”
“There has to be something we can do… get away from them… somehow?” Cuddy asked.
“The Evermore’s cloaking capability is far superior to that of the Howsh vessels. But enabling the ship with cloaking earlier would have slowed our progress by a factor of 4.3 percent. I thought it prudent to reinitialize the cloaking program now instead, noticing their relative proximity.”
“Good! So we’ll just speed right past them. They won’t see us, right?”
“No, Captain. No cloaking system is perfect. Although an accurate lock on us would be nearly impossible, vessels as advanced as these Marauders will be able to track the spatial aberrations in our wake. Only when stationary will we become completely hidden from their sensor scans.”
“What about the five other Howsh ships? Let me guess, they’re still headed for Primara.”
“Correct. They will reach that planet within eight days.”
Over the next hour, Cuddy tried to come up with some semblance of a battle strategy. The orb was helpful—answered all his questions, then provided just enough technical details to pretty much squash anything he came up with. Cuddy was becoming more and more cognizant of the fact he was not a tactician. He knew nothing of preparing for war; how to formulate a battle plan—and nothing in the old orb’s info-dump-download pertained to the subject. He was reminded, for the umpteenth time, that the Pashier were pacifists. Had they come this far on their journey, only to be crushed by five Howsh warships?
Cuddy leaned back in his seat and exhaled a heavy breath—aware the orb was moving out through the exit hatch. He closed his eyes for a moment and thought of Momma, and his life before he became the being he now was. What am I?
He opened his eyes, realizing the overhead lighting had significantly dimmed. And then he saw him… Tow was aglow, like he’d never seen him before. He moved onto the bridge, his footfalls imperceptible, then sat down in the seat next to Cuddy’s. His smiling face emanated forth both grace and humility.
Cuddy stared back at him. “How is this even possible?”
“You tell me, Cuddy. Tell me how you have come so very far?”
Suddenly, Cuddy felt ashamed—to the point he had to look away. “I have done nothing. I am lost here, Tow, and soon this space voyage will come to its sad, inevitable end.”
“Do you remember, Cuddy, the last time we spoke? On the sub-level deck where you guided me into the heritage pod? Do you remember what we spoke about…?”
The overriding feeling Cuddy was experiencing was immense pride. He felt so honored to be the one to guide his new friend Tow into this swirling mist of glittering lights—into his next stage of existence—or whatever this was all about. Walking side by side, he felt the light touch of Tow’s arm resting on his—light as a feather. He looked down, noting the smile on his friend’s face, his look of anticipation. Of what was—maybe amazing things—surely coming. Tow wondered if, when the time was right, he too would be allowed to participate in this beautiful, otherworldly, ritual. He hoped so.
“Cuddy… listen to me carefully.”
Tow slowed his pace—even as the swirling galaxy of lights glimmered brilliantly before him. More serious now, Tow looked up at him and said, “Cuddy, it will be easy to lose your way; easy to play by the rules of others—those driven by darker impulses. Those who only think short-term, willing to ignore what’s truly there… hidden deep within their hearts.”
Cuddy was reminded of the horrific turn of events Tow and his people were forced to endure over the years. And yet here he was now, the last one. The last Pashier, speaking only of kindness, not spite or revenge.
“But you didn’t survive… none of you survived, Tow. Was it worth it? To be walking into… um… what’s the word?”
“Extinction? Is that what you think, Cuddy?” Tow looked up and gestured to the magnificence around them. “Extinction is not possible… in fact, it’s impossible. It is a term that corresponds only to forms of physicality, but does not exist on subliminal levels. Not really. Think about what truly endures forever. What can’t be eviscerated—either by time or by acts of evil, ever.”
Cuddy thought about that. What could endure throughout time…?
“When you figure that out, the problems, the distress… will disappear. Remember, hope is real when your intentions are in alignment with your true self. The answers will come to you, Cuddy. I promise you that.”
Tow then picked up his pace and his smile returned. Anticipation of what was still to come emanated out from him with the brilliance of a hundred suns. “One more thing, Cuddy. You forget… I am not the last Pashier.”
“Captain Perkins… did you hear me?” Cuddy blinked away the magnificent vision and looked around the bridge. The overhead lights were bright again. The orb still hovered above the forward console, and then it came to him… what endures for all time? Unconsciously, he placed his palm on his chest—over his heart.
Cuddy stood, then, studying the Viewscape display, said, “Bob… we’ve been going about this all wrong.”
Chapter 45
Over the next five days, Cuddy, with Bob’s invaluable assistance, immersed himself into the Howsh’s long, pernicious history. Whatever was available on that ancient alien empire, and stored within the orb’s memory banks, Cuddy needed to know about. All the while, the approaching fleet of five Howsh Marauders was a continual source of tension onboard the Evermore. Cuddy, Kyle, and Tony would periodically check their status on the Viewscape display.