A World of Worlds

  * * *

  “They’re moving closer,” someone called out from the back of the ship’s large docking area. “We need to scare those animals away.”

  Nanto jumped to her feet. “Animals?”

  Drese looked back at her. “Nantosuelta, did you want to say something?”

  Fury propelled Nanto to the front of the raised platform. She scanned the surviving remnants of the Asterean fleet. “Those poor creatures you refer to as ‘animals’ live on the brink of death. They are cold, and hungry. They need help, not our condemnation.”

  “Help? If we’re not careful, we’ll be cold and hungry, too,” a woman protested. “I have children to protect. We need to explore this planet. Find alternative sources of energy. Food. Water. We cannot do that whilst these creatures surround us.”

  “Maybe we can,” Nanto responded. “Not so long ago, we treated the Morrígan little better than animals, spurning their attempts to warn us of Astereal’s shifting forces. We were so determined to cling to our ancient ways we killed Morrígan in their hundreds, smug in our delusion of superiority, driven by a legacy of fear. Have we learned nothing?”

  Captain Drese stepped forward. “The plight of the creatures on this planet is terrible,” he said in a tone of cool reason, “but my responsibility is to the fleet. We will do what we can, Nanto, when the time is right.”

  “When? You mean if, Captain,” a dark-skinned Paladin called out. “We’re all dead if we stay on this planet much longer. I heard you connected to another orb, Bridge-builder? That you believe our people made it to Earth? Perhaps we should have taken our chances with Niall’Kearey after all.”

  Nanto flushed, stung by the unspoken accusation of her failure. She caught sight of Sorel entering the bay. Her friend looked wretched, exhaustion etched into her bones. Nanto wished the ship’s healer would take time out to rest, but Sorel would tend to the sick until she lay on her death bed. The thought stiffened Nanto’s resolve.

  “I will talk with the aliens,” she said, raising her voice so all could hear.

  “No. The risk is too high,” Drese said, his voice terse. “There is a chance your mind will recover.”

  Nanto faced him, willing him to see what this meant to her. “The time to build trust and goodwill is now. Please, Captain, I have to try.”

  When the meeting dispersed, Sorel found her. “Nanto, I am proud of you.”

  “I wish I could do more.”

  “Nantosuelta, you have always offered more than an ability to bridge space-time.”

  Crushing loss tightened Nanto’s vocal cords. “I should be able to break us free from this accursed place. All these aliens—there must be other planets close by. Maybe another continent on this world—”

  “If Niall’Kearey had wallowed in self-recrimination when the Paladin bridge failed . . .”

  Nanto flinched; she would never forget the families lost on that terrible day.

  Sorel nodded. “Instead he came back, created the bridge that allowed this fleet to escape the black holes.”

  Nanto winced. “I smacked his arm once, thinking him about to give up.”

  Sorel’s eyes widened. “What happened?”

  “He called me a ‘drill sergeant’ and redoubled his efforts. Before the alien ship I used to sense him out there, somewhere. I hoped that one day our minds would connect and he would find us.”

  An image flitted through her mind, a teasing fragment of a reality that was important, so crucial a gnawing fear would awaken her at night to drenched sheets. Her stomach lurched.

  “Did you ever sense our people?” Sorel asked. “Do you know if Niall’Kearey saved them?”

  “I have hope that he did. Remember the orb?”

  “Ah, the eternal paradox that should not be.”

  “There is much we do not understand about the in-between. It sits between dimensions and connects us all. I wish I could explore it one more time.”