FOUNDRY FACILITY: 363

“Is it still considered first contact if you’re not the first to reach another species?” Karianna’s dad, Christofer, mused, the two of them at the end of a white and gold hallway no human had ever laid eyes on. They had made it to the Foundry.

They were standing aboard one of its stations, really standing here on their own two feet, not just in some virtual environment or other simulation.

Karianna smiled at him. “First contact for us. And maybe, if light speed is like a limit for communications for whoever made this place, like it does ours, then it’s first contact for them too. Right? How close is the nearest FICSE ship?”

He tapped his chin, eyebrows crinkling, doing a little quick math in his head. “Not far, but far enough to partially support your crazy idea. The Starstream should reach Lalande’s signal in a couple of years. So, we beat them at that.”

“Slackers.”

He nudged her with an elbow. “Such slackers. The other four, though, they are on the far side of SOL. The Revelation was first, I’m sure. But we haven’t heard from them yet, given how long it takes signals to go back to Earth, then bounce out to us.”

“Hope they’re all safe.”

“Me too, butterfly. Me too.”

Nothing aboard this Foundry facility was familiar; no switches, no panels, no displays or directions, just smooth walls and mysterious accents. The space was bright, light coming from everywhere, and yet nowhere, pure-white like the sun, an amniotic sense of peace filling the atmosphere. Whatever species, entity, intelligence ran this facility had prepared for them, made its internal passages safe, and somewhat inviting for humans. It was starkly beautiful, yet disconcerting.

“First contact” or not, this was an historic event. Karianna marveled at the fact that they had made it. They had really made it. All those years, all those sacrifices, everything she had missed out on not being a normal kid growing up on ye ol’ terra firma, on not getting to go to regular college, party with stupid friends or get into trouble on the weekends, like normal kids, had led to this. Twenty-two years it had taken them traveling aboard one of the five FICSE vessels, the Brilliance. And at age twenty-eight, that was her entire life. Her entire life spent trapped on a starship sent to save humanity by having a conversation.

But what had those kids back home done with their lives? Who could say that before age thirty, they’d set foot on an alien space station and helped to parlay its assistance to save our dying Earth? Not that little bitch from daycare, Jessica. That’s for damn sure. Karianna still couldn’t get over the time that Jessica had tugged on her hair all through that terrible Christmas recital. It was weird how memories like that stuck around. This many years later, why should she care?

It had all been worth it.

Their arrival had gone off without incident. They had approached the facility in their FICSE vessel as planned, and the Foundry had given them instructions to send a small group of leaders, along with a few other personnel. No one had attacked them. No one had made any threats.

The Foundry wanted to talk just like they did.

Captain Kwon had chosen a group of senior leaders, top officers, several linguistics experts, and a few valued crew members, such as Karianna and her dad, to come aboard and make first contact. There were fourteen of them roaming the halls of this vast facility as it orbited the second planet of Wolf 359.

They found it strange that no one greeted them as they disembarked in the docking bay, and that no one was walking around the facility. The halls were completely empty. Many had speculated over what the inhabitants of this station might look like. Were they little green men? Or were they so dissimilar from humans as to be undefinable? No evidence had been presented to support either hypothesis. But this torus-shaped facility, the “space donut,” as some had called it, sure didn’t build its damn self. The facility was six hundred kilometers in diameter, cruising along in a geostationary orbit above a blue gas giant. It had tens of thousands of machines actively working across its surface, a veritable hive of activity building a wide variety of… something. From a distance, it looked like these might be massive fleets of ships, but it was hard to say. Their shapes were strange, hard to catalogue.

Karianna had no clear frame of reference for anything here, only analogy.

Among those who had boarded the facility were Captain Kwon; Roland Donaldson, head of security; his security team of three; the first contact team, five people headed by Johnson Phillip; Leo Nelson, a stuck-up artist around Karianna’s age; Brandon Leeson, one of the ship’s cooks; and a Siberian Husky named Charlie. Their other four hundred and thirty crew members were left on their ship, and by that measure, Karianna felt lucky to be here. Her dad had been a project manager during several major equipment refits and overhauls en route, which had developed techniques for reuse and field fabrication now used by the entire United Exploration Initiative. Not a simple task, given that the Brilliance had no means of acquiring new materials when spanning the gulf between solar systems. He’d used that professional clout to offer her this unique opportunity. Sure, she’d done okay in school, applied herself mostly, was shaping into a valuable member of society, aka the crew, but she knew there were better choices than her. She’d never specialized in any field. Never found a true passion or calling. Why the dog was here was obvious, of course, but Brandon, one of their cooks? She had no idea.

The captain and first contact team were behind a closed door beyond an asymmetrical set of curved walls. That left Karianna, her dad, Brandon, Donaldson, and his security team waiting in the hall. It was hard to tell from here, but the structure at the center of the junction appeared to be an aesthetic choice, like one might install in the lobby of a hotel or government building. It reached from floor to almost-ceiling, the top of it terminating at various distances along its edge. Upon its ivory surface were a thousand different symbols, some almost recognizable, some as strange as reading tea leaves. The linguistics experts had identified them as a kind of language. But neither Karianna nor her dad were convinced. The patterns were not so obvious. They appeared almost like abstract art, a form of emotional expression, not simple language.

Beyond this architectural feature was the room in which the Foundry had called them, and it was very possible the fate of humanity was being discussed. The Foundry had reached out to humanity, declared itself known, offered help. And humanity had come.

Karianna ran her fingers along the grooves of the alien markings, committing their shapes to memory. The surface was smooth and cold, with a mild electrical charge around it, forcing the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. She wasn’t sure if it was something physical causing this reaction, or if it was just in her head. She could see her reflection in the clear, unmarked sections of its surface, her should length raven hair, her darkly lined eyes, heart-shaped face. Normally she didn’t see herself to be all that beautiful, but in this light, this reflection, she liked how she looked.

“It is hard to believe, though,” her dad said, attention focused on some distant point of nothing, his arms crossed, leaning against a section of wall. “It’s what I dreamed about my entire life.”

Karianna withdrew her hand and cut her eyes at him. “Your entire life? How the hell do you think I feel?”

“Yeah, that’s fair.” He paused for a moment, rubbing the stubble on his grizzled chin. She sometimes forgot, given how youthful he was, that her dad was in his early fifties. “With all the drama on the ship the last couple of years, I was starting to worry we wouldn’t make it. For a minute, it looked as if we were going to implode from the inside. Only takes one person to screw it up for everyone else. And in an environment so closed, it’s way worse. I’m still worried he has friends.”

“Yeah,” she said, her stomach flipping end over end. A ticking time bomb that would need to be disarmed one day. She only hoped the captain was prepared to do so. Kwon seemed to hold back final judgement when it came to him.

“Just wish your mom could have been here,” her dad went on. “I know you never got to know her, but she would have loved it.”

“You think so?” Karianna’s breath caught. “You, em, don’t talk about her much. Why is that?”

He shook his head. “We’ve all got our reasons for being out here. I hope you don’t hate me for making that choice for you. There are some who it has been hard on, but I couldn’t have imagined leaving you behind.”

She toyed with the metal bracelets on her wrist, a self-regulating habit she’d formed at a young age, listening to the gentle sound as they clinked together. Her dad had given them to her a little more than a year ago. He’d said nothing more at the time than, ‘Your mother would have wanted you to have them’. And she hadn’t asked for more information. They were a simple set of bands, seven or eight millimeters across, six of them in all, made of a kind of flexible silver material she could not identify.

It was clear that part of him felt bad for bringing her here. But had he had any real choice, just like she hadn’t? She might like to daydream about putting Jessica in her place some random Tuesday in middle school, but all the Jessicas and Karens and Kristies were likely now struggling to survive like everyone else left behind. Things were in a place of somewhat stasis when they left, the decline of Earth on pause, but it would not last.

There was nothing to do in that moment but to wait. To explore. To remain curious. Karianna found herself lost in thought, imagining where this might go from here. Would she finally see her world green like it had once been? Or would this be another bureaucratic nightmare? Could this species offer help, only for it to never get past the governments to reach the people it was meant to serve? Would they get a heroes’ welcome back home? Would her name go in the history books?

“Hey, butterfly,” her dad said, breaking her from her reverie. “I know we don’t talk about these sorts of things that much because you don’t like doing it. But I was thinking.”

She rolled her eyes and was embarrassed at how juvenile the action was, but she knew what was coming and was tired of it. “Oh, God. Not this.”

“I’m just curious. Are you seeing anyone lately?” He smiled. “I won’t get in the middle of your love life. Mine’s been storied enough. But there are several people your age on the ship who haven’t settled in yet. Not terrible choices, either. Thing is, you’re getting older and I just—”

“I’m fine, Dad.” She waved a hand and turned away. “I’m fine.”

“I just get to thinking about these sorts of things at the oddest times. And it’s not like there’s much opportunity to go outside of who you’ve known all your life. I’d hate to see you end up alone. It sucks. I can tell you from experience.”

“I’ll settle down when I settle down. I’m fine on my own.”

He nodded towards the closed door ahead. “What about that kid, Leo?”

“Kid? Dad, we’re both almost thirty,” she said, just as much as for her own benefit as his. It was hard not to see yourself as a kid, given their upbringing, but the reality was they were adults. Sort of.

“I misspoke.” He shook his head. “That guy, Leo. Man?”

“No. Not ever. Leo’s an idiot.”

“But good looking, right? That silver fade, lean muscles, those tattoos. Kind of like me, except I skipped the tattoos.”

“So, you want me dating someone like you?”

Her dad raised an eyebrow and gestured a hand in front of his body. “What’s wrong with all this?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

He raised a finger. “He’s got a great smile too. I’ve seen the other girls after him and far as I’m aware, he’s still single. Certainly not married.”

“Looks aren’t everything. And he’s always single, but not for the reasons you would like to think.”

“Ahh. I get it. It’s because he can’t make up his mind, isn’t it? I’m sure it’s only because he hasn’t found the right one. I know my daughter’s a good catch.”

“Ew. Stop it. Please, stop it.”

Her dad raised his open palms. “Okay, okay. I’ll back off.”

“Thanks.”

“Just don’t be like me. Companionship is important.”

And she knew this to be true. The problem was all the guys on this ship were idiots. The few that hadn’t already settled down in long-term relationships didn’t excite her. They were boring, by the book, rule following automatons. She wanted a little freer spirit, but not Leo’s variety. Maybe it was what living in a place like the Brilliance did to you. Every day was doled out in a single serving dose. This made some people… well… passionless. She had friends, though, right? That was enough. Maybe.

“I believe they’ve come to a decision,” her dad said, pointing up ahead. “Look.”

The door of the meeting area was sliding open, a brilliant slit in a solid white surface widening to allow those beyond to return.

“How long were they in there?” Karianna drew her hand terminal from her pocket. “Thirty minutes? Is something off?”

“It was short. I’ll give you that.”

As they emerged, she could see a mix of expressions on their faces: wonder, curiosity, and annoyance.

“That was not what I had expected,” Captain Kwon hissed, crossing her arms and setting her jaw in a hard line. “We might have to rethink the objectives of this mission.”

“It didn’t lie though,” said one of the linguistics experts, a short, wiry woman named Carla Westman. “It is offering aid. And the aid it offers is far more than we could have ever imagined.”

“I’m not sure what we expected,” Daniel Zercher, Carla’s co-scientist, said. “Were we expecting for it to wave a magic wand and fix it all? I mean, this place is impressive, sure, but it is not God Almighty. Just a machine. A really advanced machine.”

Johnson clicked a few keys on his hand terminal, taking notes. “But in a way, this was better than we had expected. An exchange like this was never even considered.”

Leo Nelson fiddled with a sketch pad and pencil, stepping to the side of the group, furiously recording this moment. He’d been inside with them. Met with the Foundry’s makers. Karianna was curious what he would paint from that moment.

Charlie the dog, over excited and ignored amidst all the action, wove between his legs, nearly tripping him.

“Careful buddy,” Leo said, then was forced to erase a mark he’d made on accident. “There we go. What a moment…”

Brandon crouched and put out his arms. “Here boy. Here.” And Charlie took off, running at him, bowling into the cook.

Karianna and her dad made their way over to the captain’s group, entering the center of the strange hallway decorations.

“What happened?” Donaldson asked and adjusted the weapon slung over his shoulder. “You don’t seem pleased, Captain.”

“They offered us a ship,” Carla interjected. “Not help with Earth, but a ship.”

He seemed confused and turned to his security team. “A ship?”

“But what were they?” dad asked. “What did they look like?”

The captain raised her hands and spun around. “You are looking at it, Mr. Torlen. We grilled it with questions, and it told us that this is the Foundry, and the Foundry is the Foundry.”

“I don’t understand. What species runs the Foundry?”

Daniel shrugged. “Some kind of AI runs it. And funny enough, it doesn’t know who runs it, or even who made it either.”

“How can it not know?”

Donaldson growled under his breath. “So, you’re telling me, we spent over twenty years traveling across deep space to respond to some automated system?”

“It’s more than that,” Kwon said, holding a hand up and rubbing her fingers together to focus. “I was inclined to believe the same at first, but it is not just some simple mechanized system. It’s far, far more. If it were more benevolent, I would say it might be a minor god to some peoples.”

“I thought it was going to give us a ship. That sounds partially benevolent to me.”

“But at a cost. A steep, steep cost.”

Dad scratched at the side of his head. “Just what kind of cost?”

The captain raised her right hand while she tapped her left leg with her other hand. “A genetic donation. Two limbs, arm and leg, as well as a small piece of brain matter from a non-critical area. Once this is complete, you will be able to pilot the ship from a kind of sphere of water used to cushion your changes in acceleration. I imagine it works much like our implants. The Foundry assures us, that it will replace the donated limbs with superior prosthetics to recover mobility, but who can say for sure?”

“It sure liked Charlie,” Leo mused, peering over his notebook at the dog, who was back at his side begging for attention, its massive tongue hanging out the side of his mouth.

“We should be thankful it did not count the dog as the superior visiting intelligence in the room.”

“We used our list of questions,” Johnson said. “You approved them. We worked on those for years, and with the aid of thousands of scientists on Earth. They were the right questions.”

“And they still made us look like idiots.”

“We’re out of our league,” Carla said, and it was hard to argue.

Karianna had an urge to speak up, add her two cents to this exchange, but she was just a guest here at the behest of her dad’s influence. These were the executive officers before her. She was just another one of the children of the Brilliance. These were the grownups. The real grownups.

“What should we do?” Carla asked.

Daniel turned to her. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“I’m not so sure.”

“We can’t let the sacrifice of this trip mean nothing,” Kwon said. “And so there is only one option. One of us must willingly subject themselves to this machine.”

“Can we trust it?”

She considered her words before speaking up. “I believe we can. I feel it in my bones. And the decision does not have to happen today. We have a little time. What an interesting choice, though. To pilot a ship using one’s mind, it becoming like a second skin, a new body to inhabit. It is truly remarkable.”

This idea was intoxicating. Karianna had dreamt about flight her entire life, when she laid down at night, when she ran up and down the halls as a kid with her arms out—or as an adult, when no one was watching. She imagined diving into the stars like an ocean, becoming one with their infinite currents. For someone trapped nearly their entire life on a single starship, could there be anything more beautiful? Could there be anything more free?

Donaldson nodded. “Captain Kwon, it only makes sense for you to take command of this Foundry ship. We already respect your leadership. You’ve taken us this far. You can lead us through whatever is next.”

“Perhaps,” she accepted his comment without argument. “I am willing to undergo the procedure, but we should proceed with caution. We should speak to others.”

“Others who support you,” Carla said, her tone serious.

The captain’s eyes darkened.

“How many ships will the Foundry give us?” Karianna asked, and the attention of the adults washed over her like radiation from a supernova. Her face flushed at the sudden attention. She had to stop thinking of herself as one of the kids. She was an adult now too. She—was—an—adult. “Maybe it can… You know, give us a fleet?”

“Just the one,” Leo responded, tossing her an off-handed lifeline. “Sorry, just the one. And captain, I’m aware I’m speaking out of turn saying this, but there’s another part to this donation you haven’t told the rest.”

“There is,” Kwon conceded, though she did not seem happy Leo had pushed her to do so.

Karianna’s dad leaned in. “Which is what?”

“The Brilliance must be broken down into its base components. We will be given time to evacuate, take a few items, and it will be recycled.”

“I’m sorry. What was that?”

“There’s no going back the way we came, even if we wanted to. The Foundry will not allow it.”

Her dad’s back went straight, his disposition bristling. “Oh, hell no. This is bullshit.”

“It might be, but how can we stop it? It promises a new ship. One to replace what we had. Once this transaction of sorts is complete, we will be sent off into the black, not back to Earth.”

“For what purpose? Are we just to wander the galaxy then? What is this all for?”

“To protect life. That is the Foundry’s directive. To protect life. And so, it does this by helping species, just like us, and in this way. Replace their ship with something better, something more equal to others, let them see the universe outside their home planet.” Captain Kwon gestured at a door beyond the artistic formation in the center of the junction. “All we have to do is send a person through that door who is willing to make a donation. They will be the catalyst for our decision. They will be our new pilot. The ship will be theirs, to be worn as a second body capable of traveling nearly anywhere in the galaxy and armed to protect itself.”

“Armed to protect itself, you say?” a deep, gravelly voice came from behind them, and it made Karianna’s stomach twist. She knew that voice. A voice of many nightmares, many daydreams of chaos and death. The voice of a man who had come close to turning the hallowed halls of the Brilliance into an abattoir.

Her dad whispered. “How in the—”

The captain whirled, her arms crossing. “What are you doing here, Wiggins? You’re supposed to be locked up.”

A bald, fit, slender man with clean-shaven cheeks and a dirty UEI jumpsuit appeared at the far end of the curved architectural feature. +the transporter?+ He was accompanied by seven others, crew members armed with submachine guns, men and women Karianna recognized, each person she had known and trusted her entire life. They had made a choice today, and it was a bad one.

It was Justin, Justin Wiggins, and Karianna had never liked him. He had always made her uncomfortable, leering at her from across the room, sneaking up at strange times and making inappropriate comments about her body, the way her hair fell, the way her clothes fit that day, the smell of her hair. For years she had wanted to speak up but hadn’t done so out of fear. Justin was an astrophysicist, after all, and talented, and that earned him some extra privileges. A bit of protection. A large portion of the crew loved the man too, revered him for his intelligence and quick wit. He was a master debater. A Master of Games. A master manipulator.

As the years went on, it was clear Justin had always had a plan. Then he started having secret meetings behind the captain’s back. Formed a silent harem among several married women on the ship, their husbands unknowing. He had a way of worming into your thoughts, making you question the reality presented to you. Making you question yourself, your sanity. And yet somehow… among all the fog, he always positioned himself as the cure for that confusion.

Karianna had never bought into his shit, but she had seen others do so. She just wanted the slimy man to leave her alone. Regret was heavy. She wished she had said something about him sooner. Her dad would have understood, would have taken action. Maybe the captain would have known what he would later try. How he would attempt to take control of the ship. Two lives could have been saved because of swift action. Two murdered in cold blood by this man.

Donaldson grunted a signal to his team and they raised their submachine guns, spreading out into formation.

Justin gestured for them to stop, a thinly veiled attempt to appear casual, as if they were discussing nothing more than the ship’s work orders for the week. “No need for this to get hostile,” he said. “We’re just here to have a friendly, neighborhood chat about the most important issues facing our community.”

Karianna’s dad reached out a palm and urged her back, encouraging her to step out of their line of sight. The way the walls of the architectural feature were curved made it difficult for Justin to see them where they stood.

“Be very still,” he whispered. “Get into cover if it goes bad.”

She nodded, holding her breath.

“Wiggins, you gave the pacifist life up a long time ago,” Captain Kwon said, taking a step towards him. Charlie barked once, not happy with the tension in the air. “You destroyed the peace aboard our ship. Murdered two of your own.”

“Our ship?” He chortled. “I think you mean your ship. Come on, Bong-Cha. We all know how you’ve treated the Brilliance. It’s been like your personal kingdom, free from any invaders. And who has suffered for it? Certainly not you. Oh, Queen Kwon, with others to do her heavy lifting, her laundry, her cleaning, her hard conversations, oh Queen Kwon, save your sweet cakes for her, your finest vintage, your dark contraband. She will reward you with her benevolence. Queen Kwon. Queen Kwon. Isn’t that what you liked for me to call you in those wee hours of the night when you needed company? To whisper in your ear when our bodies were all sweaty and sticky? All this while we toiled to keep the ship together, one failure after the next, one more busted hydroponics system, one more inoperable water pump, quarters abandoned and families forced to live together. This ship has been kept alive, kept working all these years because of us. Because of our hard work. And you…?”

“You have never respected leadership!” Kwon barked, her back going straight. “The UEI should have denied your entry from the first inquiry. How they did not catch your mental instability baffles me.”

“Respected leadership?” He chuckled, as did those with him. “You mean your constant gaslighting? Your lies. The way you manipulate the people of this crew to make them fight against one another. You don’t want this ship to complete the mission, to go back and save humanity. No. No. No. You just want it for yourself. For the power.”

“She’s a North Korean spy!” one of the armed crewmembers at his side said. Paula. Paula Dickins.

“She wants the power to subjugate the whole of Earth!” Bruce Parsons.

These were people Karianna had known and trusted and were now holding weapons in opposition of the captain.

Justin took a bow, his arms wide. “You heard it here.”

“Who—let—you—out!” Captain Kwon shouted. “How are you here? You should be back on the ship, awaiting your judgement.”

“Funny thing, that… Many of those on the Brilliance don’t see it like that, you know? Like, maybe they thought I should come over here, take command of things. And if I am hearing you correctly, this sounds like a great opportunity to do so. Sounds like we have a choice to make as a species. I had thought to just meet with the Foundry’s makers, strike a deal, depose the queen, but this is far, far sweeter.

“Theres some doors over there. And whoever walks through them takes it all. Is that what I heard? This is the absolute best game show ever. What’s behind door number one? Glad you asked! A powerful ship. A future.” He paused, tapping his lips with a finger. “Just not sure I can let a liar take control of it all. Not someone who is too weak to do the right thing.”

Kwon raised a finger, pointing at him. “Every mission needs a strong leader!”

“I’m so glad that you agree,” he said, drawing a pistol from his jumpsuit pocket. Before Donaldson or the rest of security could stop him, he leveled the barrel at her chest and pulled the trigger.

And pulled again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Justin’s face had become a mask of unbridled rage, a demon inhabiting the body of something that had once been human, his eyes wide, mouth open, lips in a snarl, skin burning red.

Karianna found herself clutching her ears, the sound of each shot like a blow against her body. Kwon hadn’t even hit the floor before the junction erupted into a maelstrom of gunfire.

“Get down!” her dad shouted, shoving her behind one of the bends in the curved walls.

They hid close to the floor, their backs turned away from the fight, looking for a way out. She could see Donaldson and his team fighting back, anger on their faces as they took positions to halt Justin’s group. But there were only three of them, and Justin had eight fully armed crew members, including himself.

Carla was on the ground and unresponsive. Daniel was clutching his arm, screaming. Charlie had run for the hills. One of Donaldson’s people went down.

There was nothing but shouts and the rat-tat-tat of gunfire. The Foundry did nothing to stop it, did not seem to care at all. The facility did not produce guards to break this up. It let them fight this out.

What did that mean?

“Grab the weapon!” a voice shouted, and Karianna eased around the corner to see who it was. One of the Brilliance’s security team, Jaxon Zager, was sliding a rifle across the floor to Leo. “Pick it up!”

“I—eh—” The artist’s notebook and pencils were scattered on the floor, pages covered in blood. He’d been standing close to the captain when she’d been attacked. “I don’t know what—”

Two pops. The cook crouching beside Leo fell. All Leo could do in response was cower, edging his way towards the exit.

“One by one, you’re all going down!” Justin shouted, holding his people back for a moment, the junction going silent. “We can stop this now if you just get out of my way. I’m going for that door. That ship is mine.”

“We can’t let him get it,” Karianna’s dad whispered. “We’ve got to stop him.”

She raised her empty hands. “We’ve got nothing to stop him with. No weapons.”

“I think I can get that dropped rifle.” He pointed to the one near where Leo had been. “I wasn’t a bad shot when I was a kid, and those idiots are just as untrained as we are.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“We can’t surrender. Justin already tried to overturn the leadership of the Brilliance and make it his own. If he succeeds today, humanity is doomed. He will not use this ship for the good of our species. For the good of everyone else. What did the captain say the Foundry’s directive was?”

“To protect life,” she whispered.

“I have no idea what that means in this context, but it certainly doesn’t mean this.”

She swallowed. “But the only way to stop him is…”

“To reach the donation room ourselves.”

And there it was. Justin had forced their hand. There was no time for deliberation, it just needed to be someone who wasn’t him. They didn’t have to defeat him, they just had to beat him through the doors.

“And won’t everyone else on the ship be angry?” she asked and felt foolish even as she said it. What did any of that matter now? Was this just more feeling she didn’t have a place among the adults? No time for that.

“There’s no other way.” He let out a long breath. “Someone has to do it. Someone with a good heart, responsible, and daring. Someone who cares about the fate of humanity, the mission.”

“Ready to give up?” Justin called out. “Are you ready to see the wonder of allowing a superior intellect to control your fate? I promise, I’ll be a benevolent master over you all. I will care for those who care for me. I will show love to those who deserve it, and punishment to those who don’t. We will restore the Earth. We will make a new life for this crew!”

“Over my dead body,” Donaldson replied. “There’s only two ways any of us are leaving this facility. Upright or in a bloody body bag.”

“I do believe you’re right,” Justin replied, and his people fanned out. “We’ve got more guns. Sorry. I like you Donaldson, always loyal, always faithful. Could have used a person like you.”

“Go to hell!”

“Don’t worry, Roland. I’m pretty sure that’s been my fate all along.”

The fight went on, exchanges of gunfire redoubling as Karianna and her dad cowered behind a wall. She could see Leo from where she was, his face stricken with fear. She couldn’t blame him, but this was not the moment. Something had to be done and fast. Justin’s people started making their way around one of the curved walls. It wouldn’t be long before they were on top of Karianna and her dad.

“That’s it,” her dad said, darting across a gap in the walls towards the cowering artist.

“Dad! What are you doing?”

“What I have to, butterfly!” He slid behind a short barrier and recovered the rifle Leo had been too scared to take. After he cleared the chamber, he cocked the weapon and readied to fire from his position laying on his side. “You know what to do.”

Karianna shook her head. “But—”

“There’s no other way, and we know it.” Her dad leaned out of cover and fired at Justin and his people, catching one of their enemies in the chest. “One point for us.”

Donaldson and his remaining team cheered. “Push in on them.” He made some hand gestures, commanding them to change positions. “Christofer! Look out. On your left.

“I’m on ‘em.” He fired several more times, forcing a face back into cover.

She had to find a way across the melee. She could see the door at the end of the hall, but it was too far. It had to be at least thirty meters, and with no cover at all. She had to make a choice, but…

Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement as Justin took aim from a new position and fired. The shot hit its mark, and Karianna’s dad went tumbling backwards, now only half behind cover.

An unstoppable anger overtook her, a mixture of fear, loss, rage, and emptiness. She ran to his side, heedless of the danger, bullets from submachine guns whizzing around her like a culture of a billion nano-machines hard at work.

“Dad,” she choked, sliding into cover beside him and pulling his legs out of the open. “No. No. You can’t.”

He pressed a hand to a bloody wound on his side and began to tremble. “It doesn’t matter. All—that—” His speech was broken, breathing labored. “I—”

“You can’t!” She shook him by the shoulders. “No. No. No. You’re all I have.”

He put a bloody hand to her cheek and smiled, leaving a red mark along her jawline. “You are never alone, butterfly. I’m always with you.” He reached out for the strap of his rifle and pulled it close. “Now go. Before he reaches us. Go. I’ll cover you. Run. Just run. Run for your life. Run for all of us.”

She put her forehead to his, tears streaming from her eyes like a river which had seen too many storms, and squeezed his hand, her bracelets jingling.

“Run,” he whispered.

And she did just that.

Karianna stood and took off for the door at the far end of the junction. Donaldson and his last remaining team member saw her and renewed their efforts to pin Justin down. The last thing she saw was Justin taking aim.

“Fuck you, asshole! That’s my daughter,” her dad shouted, and his weapon fired again and again. “And I’ll be damned if you’ll get her.”

She ran, and ran, and ran, just like her dad told her to. Either she would take a bullet in the back, or she would reach the door. There were no other options. She hated the fact that even though her father lay injured, likely dying, her mind became a jumble of worry over what was ahead. She was committing to give up parts of her body, a literal arm and a leg, so that she could stop this madman from stealing a powerful starship. While some of this excited her, what she might become on the other side, she did not have time to consider everything.

Run. Just keep running.

Projectiles pinged off the walls of the passage.

Run.

Bullets dug into the ground at her feet, bounced off walls.

Run.

She felt her hair disturbed by the passage of one near her right ear, the wind tousling her strands.

Run!

She reached the end of the hall, and the smooth white walls of the Foundry split wide, calling her into its safety. She looked back, and her dad gave a weak smile from where he lay and waved, before crawling his way across the battlefield, searching for a better angle of attack. He might be bleeding and weak, but he was fighting till the final moment.

Anger erupted on Justin’s face, and even at this distance it was not hard to see. He wanted the power, and they were taking this gift away from this dangerous megalomaniac. It was the right thing to do.

Come, a calming voice spoke in her head, the world around her taking on a peaceful, pink quality. Do not be afraid. It will not hurt.

And she listened, turning her back on the battle and stepping forward, the doors to the donation room closing behind her.

This was it. There was no turning back. None whatsoever.

But isn’t that the way of all things in life? Time always marches forward. Decisions can never be unmade.

The world went pure white.

The donation had begun.

The world was silent.

And the Foundry interceded.