*
No-one had spoken for hours now. Once the shouting and anger had finally burned itself out, they had each withdrawn into their own thoughts, reluctant even to look at each other. Galen Jones sat at the table, head held slumped in two of her hands, her face invisible. Qarim Abdul-Jabaar stared into nowhere, a look of great worry on his features. Speed-Metal had gone into some sort of reverie or was lost in deep processing. He hadn’t even moved for three hours. Mackenzie simply stared out into Grey Space, looking at nothing. One wall of the conference room showed the dull emptiness outside the ship. A faint reflection of his own face was just visible out there.
He kept thinking about the look on Galen Jones’s face as he had explained, quietly and simply, all that had happened on Isiur, and what he had done. Her disbelief had been very clear. Even she hadn’t expected it of him. What have you done Mackenzie? You believed them? You went over there and did exactly what they wanted? You actually helped them to set the machine off?
He thought about the people he knew, the worlds he had visited. And about all the other worlds he had yet to visit.
‘How long now?’
‘Fifteen minutes,’ replied the avatar.
‘And tell me, what do you think will happen when we do jump out of Grey Space?’
‘If the Xin are right - if what Metarion told you is true - then we will emerge at Spica 7 and all will be as before. Apart from the relativistic effects of the increased cosmic expansion which will be observable but of no danger to us.’
‘And if the cascading collapse wasn’t interrupted by the particle?’
‘We will instantly cease to exist. On the other hand, if a Small Bang has occurred in our universe and the Xin are wrong about the effects on space, then we will merely be pulverised into subatomic particles within a few nanoseconds.’
He said nothing. He thought about the shining silver lines that formed such dazzling and beautiful patterns on Metarion’s skin. He saw again her smile. Standing next to her, the Draconian, disinterested hatred clear in all its actions.
‘We could remain here you know,’ the avatar said. ‘The fleet has the resources to provide for everyone. We are safe here.’
‘You are giving me a suggestion?’
‘Merely making all the options clear to you. Remaining in this universe is one obvious alternative.’ Her expression was neutral; she didn’t look worried or concerned for her own safety although all ships had a strong and clear impulse for self-preservation.
‘No. A life in limbo is no life. This ship will cross back into our universe and the rest of the fleet will hold here. If we return to give the all-clear, they will follow us to Spica 7. If not it will be up to them to decide what to do. I can’t make this decision for everyone.’
The irony of what he was saying struck him clearly.
‘OK,’ said the avatar.
‘But don’t tell them when we arrive,’ said Mackenzie. ‘Best they don’t know. Give me the countdown but leave them alone.’
‘OK.’
He thought about Metarion again, wondering what it would be like to face death after half a million years of life. He thought about being a boy, imagined Metarion up there watching as he flashed his messages into the sky. He thought about the Draconian, perhaps the last of its species. Whatever had happened, it would be dead too by now.
He thought about his end of the universe nightmares, wondered if they were prescient in some way. Outside the ship, like a reflection in the transparent hull, he seemed to see flowers. He watched as, gently, they closed up for the night, coiling up into buds, tighter and tighter until they folded in on themselves completely and disappeared. It occurred to him that, one way or another, he would at least be free of his nightmares now.
He wondered about who was right, he or Galen Jones. Metarion or the Draconian.
He was thinking all this even as the avatar’s quiet countdown came.
He shut his eyes as she reached five seconds to go, suddenly conscious that his thoughts now might well be the last ones he would ever think. Then he thought about nothing.
‘Now.’
*
He stood there for a long time afterwards, the Higher Than The Sun’s avatar holding his hand lightly in hers. Outside the ship, as it emerged into normal space, the beautiful stars blazed out.
The End