5. 1

“I suspect he realised it was unsustainable. It’s not like he could do it that way forever.”

“I don’t care to speculate. We need a way of preventing mass jump gate invasion from ever happening again. We need it now. Maybe he stopped, but who’s to say he didn’t leave behind scouts? Who says he isn’t sending them now?”

“We’ve sent out metal detectors and infrared sensors. The brains are working on something they call a normalization field emitter. In the meantime, we’ve declared marshal law, and named you Sovereign.”

“Careful Dupont. That sounded like an accusation.”

“Who am I to suggest you could’ve orchestrated a catastrophe that saw you gain power by provoking an enemy you understood better than all the generals? Clearly you simply benefitted because of a string of perfect coincidences.”

“Keep it up and I’ll have you coincidentally executed for sedition.”

Tim pushes a carrot slice around on his plate with his fork, following the path it leaves in the gravy with a sort of reverence. Nadia watches silently, her hands in her lap, her food already gone. Tim’s voice is near to monotone.

“Y’know, when the great expansion started, most of the colonists were test-tube babies. A crew of maybe fifty people would raise one hundred, and so on, as much as possible. A lot of psychologists at the time said the cultural effect would be devastating, but, we’re pretty good at bouncing back, I guess. A generation or two later, and colonies could be expanded naturally. But it was pretty wild, considering the whole reason we expanded in the first place was to decrease the population on our home planet.”

Nadia says nothing. She watches him lift the carrot piece and wave it around before placing it in his mouth; starting the process over with a piece of celery.

“Meanwhile, the Xalanthii and the Khanvröst didn’t bother with stuff like that. The fish folk refuse to share planets, and select new worlds with really strict parameters. The carnivores take what they can get, and they like getting their own worlds, but they don’t object to cozying up with us. Some of them even join up.”

Nadia smiles warmly and tilts her head to one side.

“I know. There was one in my boot camp. She was a funny one, would get into fights with people she wanted to befriend.”

Tim glances up, and watches her face for a long time, before resuming his ritual. His food went cold within the first five bites.

“Khain is like that too. Not as bad, I’m sure, but I think he only became my friend because I didn’t turn tail when he sneered. He sure doesn’t respect me much, but… He liked me, in his own way.”

“Tim, I wanted to-”

The fork drops onto the plate, and Tim goes stiff. Nadia falls silent. He shakes. She raises her hand uncertainly. He stands, and begins to walk away, stopping mid stride to turn back and resume eating as if nothing happened. The hand falls back into her lap.

“Anyway. The only species that treats colonization like we did is the Pliktik. They send a little starter package with all the genetic information they need, and start pumping out whole generations. You get the workers, the soldiers, the queens, the birthing caste… hum. I suppose Zen makes three. He learned a lot from them. And from us. Like how to lie.”

Nadia looks down. Tim continues.

“Honestly, if it wasn’t for us, I wonder if he would have ever found out about Janice. All that poking around we did. Maybe he could’ve won the war and been decommissioned without ever learning what you were hiding.”

“I didn’t kill her, Tim. It wasn’t me, I…”

She breathes in shakily, and looks at him through blurry eyes. He stares back, unreadable, unfeeling.

“Does it matter? Someone killed her, and you knew about it, which means Zen was inevitably going to figure it out.”

“He’s not God, Tim.”

“He might as well be. The whole universe is going to be his someday. To do whatever he wants with.”

Nadia wipes her eyes and controls her respiration for a few minutes, before returning to her composed stance.

“Maybe so. Maybe everything that exists is going to end up being his domain. What then?”

Tim stops, and stares at his plate. He looks up slowly, and Nadia sees a bottomless abyss open in his eyes, the hole at the center of him.

“Then it all begins again.”

Joy stares at herself in the curved glass, pulling her own cheeks to resist the narrowing effect.

“This was fun to do? People paid to do this?”

[The spectacle of a fun house was meant to be enjoyed in the intoxicating atmosphere of companionship. One would also likely have sugary sweets on hand, which acted as a mood booster.]

She grins and sways from side to side, then looks up at Zen, who displays a crude smiley on his facial surface.

“Well, let’s have some of those, then!”

He nods, and holds out his hand, using his palm array to fabricate a cotton candy cone, which she grabs and bites into. She makes a sharp gasping sound. 

“WHOA! It’s so light, and soft, and it melts in my mouth! It looks like one of those big nebula, with hydrogen! Pink. Pink cloud!”

She stops, and takes another bite, blinking a few times. She begins to walk through the hall of curved mirrors and glass, taking bits of her treat in her fingers, and popping them in her mouth. 

“Wow, this is pure sugar. How did they even think of that?”

[Carnivals also had salty and savory foods, like hot dogs and Pretzels. And Beer. The entire experience was symbolic of indulgence. Rides meant to indulge the inner child, to indulge in fear, activities for indulging in pride. Much of day to day life for adults was considered tedious, things like this allowed them to improve their outlook.]

They leave the fun house through a rotating cylinder, and march out into the carnival, surrounded by rides clamoring for attention. Missing from the hubbub, is the chatter of any crowds. Joy begins to march for a roller coaster queue.

“So, they went from dull and dreary to bright and noisy. Why would they go back?”

[They had to get things done, which requires work. Many were wasting their time, furthering the selfish needs of others. But a few had their sights set on more important goals. It took a long time, but they got better. Unfortunately, as they got more serious, things like carnivals lost their charm. They still made time for recreation with things like vacation and paradise planets, but most of these became aimed at those who made their fortune during the expansion. The average human will only ever live on one planet, and must make peace with that fate. It all depends on where they get born. Some are lucky, and some end up nearly enslaved.]

“Then I guess I’m the luckiest one, huh?”

She looks back and grins, and Zen nods slowly. He watches her climb into the front seat of the roller coaster and pat the spot beside her. He acquiesces, sliding in beside her and pulling the bar down. The car begins to move along the track.

“I gotta say…”

He looks down to her, and sees her staring straight ahead, her expression almost somber.

“You don’t seem to hate them so much anymore.”

Zen turns forward, and says nothing as the car mounts the first hill and begins its race down the valley. Joy raises her hands and whoops.