Aurora's End (The Aurora Cycle #3)

“—iiiitttt.” Pressing the Transmit button on my intercom, I heave a heavy sigh. “Zil, you and me gotta have a talk about sisterhood an—”

“Is the security detail dealt with?” she demands. “I need you and Finian up in Pinkerton’s office immediately.”

Finian and I exchange a glance, and the station around us rumbles ominously as the klaxons continue to wail. He looks so pretty by the dark light of the storm, but I can hear an uncharacteristic note of fear in Zila’s voice, which is enough to put the brakes on my racing pulse as I meet Fin’s eyes.

“We’ll be right up,” I tell her.

It takes a few minutes, a quiet dodge around four panicked crew, and a lucky escape from a burst of plasma in Stairwell A, but we make our way up to the hab level above. The station continues to quake around us as Fin and I creep along, hand in hand. We step into Pinkerton’s office/antiques collection, and I can see the worry in Zila’s eyes, note the thick black curl of hair she’s chewing on. Maybe for the first time ever, she actually looks genuinely frazzled as she glowers at me. Our good Lieutenant Nari “Hawk” Kim is standing beside Zila, staring at the glowing screens. She looks like somebody shot her dog.

“Where have you two been?” Zila demands.

“Zil, you okay?” Fin asks.

“I asked where you’ve been,” she demands, looking me over. “But given the fact that Scarlett’s shirt is untucked and you have bite marks on your neck, I need not have bothered.”

“We took care of the security patrol, Z,” I say. “Just like we were supposed to. Hence you not getting shot. If we took a little detour afterward—”

“That was foolish and selfish,” she snaps. “There are things I would rather be doing too, Scarlett.”

I admit, my hackles rise a little at that. I glance pointedly at Lieutenant Nari Kim hovering over our Brain’s shoulder, and folding my arms, I shoot Zila a meaningful stare. “Yeah, I bet there are, Z. And nobody’s going to judge if you two—”

“That is not what I meant,” Zila says, flushing as she glances at Nari. “Some of us have more important things on our minds than trivial flirtations. Some of us are trying to figure a way out of this mess!”

Fin looks taken aback as Zila’s tone almost rises to a shout. I make a note to put in a call to the Galactic Book of Records.

First time she’s ever done that.

“Zil, what’s the big deal?” he asks.

“How can you possibly ask that, Finian?” Zila demands. “You know as well as I do the level of complexity I am dealing with here!”

“Look, yeah, okay.” He scratches his mussed hair, shooting me an embarrassed look. “Maybe me and Scar took some time for ourselves. I’m sorry, I should be helping you more. I’ll do it next time—it’s no big deal, right? We’ve got literally infinity to solve this. If we mess things up, we just try again until we work it out and break free of the loop, yeah?”

Zila shakes her head, and returns to her readouts.

“When our next loop commences, I require you to devote your efforts to Magellan.”

Fin blinks, and I almost laugh as I glance at Finian’s backpack, the fried remains of Aurora’s uniglass inside it.

“You actually want me to repair that piece of chakk?” He gestures to the glass cases around us. “Z, you’d get more use out of one of these antiques!”

“I will also require your uniglass. Yours too, Scarlett.”

“What for?” I ask. “It’s not like there’s a network for them to—”

“We can network them with each other.” Zila almost scowls at the screens in front of her. “This system is simply too primitive, and I need all the computing power I can get to perform this math.” She rubs her eyes, her face underscored by the glow of her screens. “Something is wrong.”

Fin shuffles closer to the console, taking this more seriously now. “What do you mean? What’s wrong?”

The loudspeaker cuts Zila’s reply off.

“WARNING: CONTAINMENT CASCADE IN EFFECT. CORE IMPLOSION IMMINENT, T MINUS THREE MINUTES AND COUNTING. ALL HANDS PROCEED TO EVACUATION PODS IMMEDIATELY. REPEAT: CORE IMPLOSION IN THREE MINUTES AND COUNTING.”

And there it is.

The end of the loop.

Dying time again.

The station starts to shake around us, and I take Finian’s hand. Comforted by the strength in his grip, the warmth of his body as I lean against him. But Fin pays no attention, instead staring at the time readout on Zila’s wrist. The digital numbers flash on the timer she sets at the start of every loop.

“That can’t be right … ,” Fin says.

Zila meets his stare, lips pursed. “I was wondering when you would notice.”

“Have you checked this?” he demands. “It’s not a glitch?”

“We noticed it a few loops ago,” Nari says quietly. “Well, Zila did. But she wanted to make sure before telling you.”

Zila holds Finian’s eyes a moment longer, then turns her little death glare on me. “Perhaps if you two were not so distracted …”

“Listen, Zila, I know you’re angry,” I say. “And maybe you have a right to be, but can you put the pointing fingers away for a minute and tell me what the hells is going on?”

The station rocks around us. A mauve light flares, illuminating the tempest outside, the colossal clouds coiling and churning out in the black.

Fin looks into my eyes. “The quantum pulse strikes the sail forty-four minutes into the loop.”

“Right.”

“And Zila told us the core overloaded and the station exploded fifty-eight minutes after the pulse hits.”

“Yeah.” I look back and forth between them. “So?”

“We are one minute from detonation, Scarlett,” Zila says, holding up her wrist for me to read.

I frown at the numbers, bright red against the small black screen on Zila’s brown skin, bathed in the monitor’s blue glow.

“One hour, thirty-two minutes,” I say.

“Correct,” Zila nods.

“WARNING: CORE IMPLOSION IMMINENT, T MINUS THIRTY SECONDS. ALL HANDS EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY. REPEAT: CORE IMPLOSION IN THIRTY SECONDS.”

The station begins to buck wildly, the metal around us tearing, the air filled with sirens, rising smoke, the hiss of venting atmo. I raise my voice above it all. “But if the core explodes fifty-eight minutes after the strike, and the strike happens at minute forty-four …”

Kim meets my eyes, her face grim. “Yeah.”

“Holy shit,” I whisper.

I look into Fin’s eyes.

“The loops are getting shorter,” I say.

“WARNING: CORE IMPLOSION IMMINENT. FIVE SECONDS. WARNING.”

Fin nods and squeezes my hand, his big black eyes wide with fear.

“We’re running out of time,” he says.

“WARNING.”

BOOM.





19



AURI





My head’s pounding by the time we reach the World Ship, and I watch through the Vindicator’s viewscreen as the last sanctuary in the entire Milky Way comes into view.

Kal rests his hands on my shoulders, thumbs pressing in to find the spot at the base of my neck where I always carry my tension. He must have done this hundreds of times in the Echo, patiently talking me down from my fits of despair over Esh’s impossible training tasks. It feels so long ago.

Now we watch together as we draw closer to Sempiternity, a looming shadow floating against the backdrop of a brilliant rainbow nebula. At first, I think not much has changed in twenty-seven years—it’s still a hodgepodge of ships and stations bolted together, towers and satellites jabbing out into the black, docking tunnels twisting away from its body like trailing tentacles.

But it’s speckled all over with lights, except for the upper right-hand quarter. That part’s completely dark, and as we draw in closer and I get a better look, I can see it’s been blasted open to space, twisted and broken. The explosion—or the attack—must have been massive.

“Home,” Toshh murmurs from her seat beside me.

“Good place to keep your heart,” I say.

She looks at me strangely, one brow rising toward her horns.

“It’s an old Earth saying,” I smile. “Home is where the heart is.”